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After the End	By : Bloodyrose82 Category: M through R > Queer As Folk Views: 2114 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Queer As Folk, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-After the End
- 2-515
- 3-516
- 4-517
- 5-518
- 6-519
- 7-520
- 8-521
- 9-522
- 10-523
- 11-524
- 12-525
- 13-526
- 3
- 4
- 5
Prologue.

Some people say that time is vital, that it should be watched intently just in case it runs away. They always insist that no matter what they are doing or where they are, they always know exactly what the time is down to the last hour, minute, second.

But there are so many clich�s about time, most of them contradictory, that it�s impossible to know which way to turn. �Time waits for no man�, �Time is a great healer�, and �A stitch in time saves nine.�

Sometimes it feels like time is designed to drive a person crazy: time to get up, time to go to work, fifteen minutes until your next appointment, three to boil an egg, checking if a flight is on time, finding time to relax, picking the right time to tell someone something important: I love you. I�m sorry. Don�t leave.

But what can you do when you�re a man whose life is governed by time as much as the next person�s, and then you make a conscious decision to say �it�s only time�?

There�s only one thing you can do.

You wait.

-*-

I. Brian

You have made a lot of mistakes in your life, but for the most part you push those aside, either pretending they didn�t happen, or storing them away in your head, trying to learn from them as best you can.

You thought that sending Justin away with an idle comment that vaguely suggested you would still be there when he got back, cloaked in some sort of romantic notion that love transcends all barriers, even time, was one of the biggest mistakes you had ever made.

You�re not getting any younger, after all.

You thought your second biggest mistake was allowing him to kiss you.

At the time you didn�t see it as particularly important, and besides, it�s not like you were exactly sober. Or thinking, for that matter.

After all, as far as kisses go, in the scheme of things it barely registered on the scale. There were no tongues, no passionate embrace, no rush of adrenaline to the head that always manages to leave you dizzy and a little off balance.

It was just a kiss. Your lips against his. That familiar Justin-taste, as unique to him as his fingerprints, hiding just beneath the surface of a murky pond of alcohol.

It was just his body, all taut lines and warmth, and god damn so close you could practically climb into his skin.

You�d had many kisses in your lifetime: tiny pecks from Michael; polite barely-touching-cheeks from your mother; sloppy, childish kisses from Gus; hot, sweaty, forceful, demanding kisses that were too powerful to be labelled as kisses, a word you had always considered far too delicate and well�feminine.

You even knew what kisses felt like when they were full of love.

But last night with Justin, that was a first. A gentle pressure that felt so confusing, so fucking right that you felt you may pass out.

It answered a million questions and asked a million more. It allowed you one step forward and pushed you two back.

And he didn�t even remember it when he woke up.

-*-

II. Justin

You woke up with a throbbing headache, and somehow managed to peel back your eyelids long enough to find the door and stumble downstairs. You flopped down on the couch, pulling a cushion over your face in a half-hearted attempt at drowning out the screech from the cartoon Molly was watching.

"What time is it?" you groaned, as your mother placed a mug of coffee next to you.

"Just after eleven," she replied, and you didn�t need to look up to know that she thought any normal human being would have been awake hours ago.

"Why isn�t Molly at school?" you asked, as she started singing along to the theme song of her show.

Your mom removed the cushion from your face, and you squinted up at her, wondering who on earth had the bright idea of making everything so light.

"It�s Saturday, Justin," she explained with false patience.

Saturday.

Ten days left.

You pulled yourself up and grabbed your mug, draining half of it before you felt yourself somewhat entering a waking state.

"Michael and Emmett brought you home last night," she told you, before you had a chance to ask. "They seemed concerned."

"They�re always concerned," you replied, rubbing at your eyes with the heel of your hand. "I think it�s in their job description. "

Your mom clucked under her breath and disappeared into the kitchen. You felt like shit. Christ, why did you do these things to yourself?

You remembered Woody�s, where Emm asked you a bunch of questions you didn�t want to answer. But beyond that�

You had a vague idea that you went on to Babylon, as tiny snatches of drunken conversations with Brian flickered in your head. You had a good idea of how the night must have ended, as well, with Mikey glaring at you as he chaperoned you home. And Brian had probably wandered off to fuck someone in the backroom.

Which may explain why you had gotten yourself into such a state in the first place?

You vowed, as you had many times before, to never get that drunk ever again. It never lead to anything good, and you usually found yourself spending the next day avoiding horrified glances from people who had been sober enough to remember what you had gotten up to.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and you heard your mother getting up to answer it.

"Is he awake yet?"

Shit, it was Mikey. Obviously you had done something stupid after all, and he had turned up to deliver the usual hearty dose of an unwanted lecture.

You wondered who had made him the moral police.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing?!" he demanded as he entered the room.

You started massaging at your temple, barely aware that your mother was bundling Molly into her coat, despite her protests, and mumbling something about fetching more milk.

-*-

III. Brian

You banished the whole sorry mess from your mind as soon as you entered your meeting, and by the time you came back out, a new client on board and his assistant�s number in your pocket, you barely gave a passing thought to the kiss the night before.

Sadly the same couldn�t be said for everyone else in the company, and by the time noon rolled around you had holed yourself up in your office just to get away from the secret smiles and knowing looks.

Ted slipped through the door just as you were about to leave, the signed contract for the new account in his hand, and sat down opposite you.

This was obviously a personal matter, if it was professional he would never have dared to enter your office without knocking first, never mind taking a seat.

"Theodore." You nodded at him and took the proffered contract, glancing over it before adding your initials to the bottom.

"Emmett called," he said. "Made me wish I hadn�t left early last night."

"Indeed." You glanced to the window and checked your reflection, straightening your tie a little. "I�m sure you would have been amused at the spectacle he managed to make of Mikey on the dance floor."

"That wasn�t the spectacle I was referring to."

You regarded him with one eyebrow raised. You hated the look on his face; his little all-knowing smug smile he allowed himself when he realized that you had fucked up big time and were probably kicking yourself for it.

You supposed you could let it go. Perhaps you�d get Cynthia to write it off as a �charitable donation to the community.�

"I don�t want to talk about it," you said, and began shuffling papers around on your desk.

"I bet. You�ve fucked up in your time, Brian, but this really tops them all."

"I�m used to topping everything else," you replied with a smirk. "In more ways than one."

He snorted and continued watching you. "It really was an enormous mistake. It amazes me how you manage to handle your clients so well when you do such a spectacularly awful job of messing up your personal life."

"It was just a kiss!"

There. You acknowledged it.

"Oh yes, just a kiss." He sat back a little, making himself comfortable, looking like he had every intention of staying for a while. "It would have been just a kiss," he continued, "had it been with anyone other than Justin. But as it was, it was a stupid, unforgivable, idiotic kiss. It changes a few things, don�t you think?"

"I think I�m not having this conversation with you," you said a little weakly, and snapped your cell open to check the tiny blinking clock.

Almost time to go.

"You�re not," he agreed, scratching his chin. "You�re just sitting here listening to me."

There was that smug grin again.

"No, I�m not," you replied, standing up and grabbing your coat off the back of your chair. "I�m meeting the Munchers for lunch."

You gave him a look that told him he could play the game as much as he wanted to, that was fine by you, but he should never expect to win.

There was only one thing you had ever really lost in your life.

-*-

IV. Justin

"I did not kiss him!" you shouted. "You were probably just seeing things."

"I was not seeing things!" Mikey shot back. "I know what my best friend looks like!"

You snorted and sank further into the couch. "Just pretend for one moment that I did kiss him, and let me state for the record that I don�t think I did, so fucking what?"

"So fucking what?!" he spluttered, going slightly red in the face. "Do you have any idea of the damage you could cause?"

You shrugged. "None, I imagine. I�ve kissed him plenty of times before and nothing has come of it."

Mikey grunted in frustration and stared down at you from his position in the middle of the room, his arms folded across his chest. "It was different before�" he said, "�before you left."

You sighed and ran one hand through your hair, pulling a face at how it felt, thick with smoke from the club. You longed for a shower. "Why does everything have to be about that?"

"Because everything is about that," he replied, and took the two steps across the room to sink down next to you. "You don�t get it, do you?"

"I don�t think there�s anything to get," you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Why did everything have to be so damn difficult? You came back for Debbie�s birthday, with the intention of spending a little time with your friends, catching up on the direction their lives had taken in the months since you�d left. You hadn�t signed up for the Spanish Inquisition.

"He missed you," Mikey said quietly, and glanced at you sideways. "He�d never say it because it�s not his style. But he did. I can tell."

You pursed your lips and looked back at him. "So what? I missed him too."

He looked skeptical. "Then stop doing this to him," he replied. "Make a decision and stick to it."

"I have," you said stubbornly, and pulled yourself up, peeling your shirt from your chest. "I just don�t think any of you have accepted that yet."

You padded towards the kitchen, your coffee mug in your hand, and placed it by the sink, ignoring Michael�s words floating behind you :

"But have you accepted it?"

-*-

V. Brian

For once, the diner was relatively quiet, for which you were glad. Mel and Linds sat in one of the corner booths, Gus between them, scribbling in some sort of coloring book, JR bouncing on her Grandmother's lap by the counter.

"Hello Sonny Boy," you said, ruffling his hair, and slipped into the seat opposite them.

"Justin�s influence," Mel said, gesturing towards the book as Linds leaned forward and kissed your cheek.

"Nothing to do with art being in his genes then?" you commented, inclining your head towards Lindsay.

She smiled and shook her head. "I�ve been trying to get him into it practically since birth, but with no luck."

"In the womb," Mel corrected. "You used to read aloud the spiel from your art magazines, remember?"

Linds blushed slightly, as if she was embarrassed to be caught out. "Better than explaining the finer details of the differences between Canadian and American civil law," she said, giving Mel a look.

You ducked your head behind a menu, trying not to smile.

"Excuse me?" Mel replied, as she tried to get Gus to eat another French fry which he was blatantly ignoring in favor of chewing on the end of a yellow crayon. "Don�t you think our children should have a choice in the career they pursue?"

"No son of mine is going to be a lawyer," you said, earning a grateful look from Linds. "Isn�t that right Gus?" You leaned forward to get a better look at his picture. "You�re either going to grow up and be an ad exec like your old dad, or you will be a porn star."

"Brian!" Linds chastised, and glanced at Gus as if she thought he had the faintest idea what a porn star even was.

Mel snorted and dragged one of the fries through some ketchup before popping it into her mouth. "God forbid he turns out anything like you."

You held up one hand, smirking at her. "Now, now, Melanie, let�s not get personal here."

Linds nodded, shooting her a look. "My point, if it hasn�t already been lost," she said, "is that Justin was the only one who seemed to be able to get Gus near a box of paints. You should have seen how he was with him at his first show."

Linds got that dreamy expression on her face that she wore every time she was about to launch into another �how cute is our son?� story, and you gratefully took a sip from the coffee that had just been put down in front of you. You�d need all the caffeine you could get if you were expected to be awake through this.

"It was adorable," Mel chimed in, joining Linds in her proud parenthood party. "It wasn�t exactly the right environment for a child. Gus took to a small marble globe that was a part of someone�s sculpture and started rolling it across the floor. We were horrified, naturally."

"Naturally," you replied, trying hard not to sound too sarcastic.

"But Justin got down on the floor and started rolling it back to him," Linds continued. "Apparently the moment he saw Gus playing with it, he marched straight over to the woman who had made it, and brought it off her." She sat back with a smile.

"How sickeningly generous of him," you snorted in reply.

Gus wasn�t even his kid and yet Justin seemed to act like a better father towards him than you could ever imagine being.

"Gus has been enamoured ever since," Mel said, and smiled at you in the familiar way that never quite reached her eyes, implying you had no chance in hell of ever topping Justin�s little gesture.

You cleared your throat and took another sip of your coffee, your mouth suddenly dry. You weren�t sure what angered you more: that Gus was clearly enraptured with Justin, or that Justin was equally enraptured with Gus.

Fucking kids.

-*-

VI. Justin

You finally managed to get rid of Mikey when you declared that you were going for a shower, and that while he was welcome to continue his lecture in the bathroom, you would rather he didn�t stare at you naked and covered in soapsuds.

When your mother and Molly returned you made your own hasty exit, and made your way towards Liberty Avenue, taking the long route to give you time to think.

Maybe coming back was a big mistake, even if you were only in Pittsburgh for less than two weeks. You were glad you had seen for yourself that Brian was okay - nobody had been particularly forthcoming with information when you had asked about him - but mostly you just wished you had told Mikey that you had a big show on and wouldn�t be able to make it on time.

It was frustrating, seeing Brian everywhere and not being able to touch him. He�d always produced a strong tactile reaction in you, and to be in the same room as him without being able to sling your arms around him, and lean against him while he propped up the bar, it was nothing short of torture. The little accusatory glances he kept on giving you didn�t help any. It was as if your very presence was an unwelcome intrusion in his life.

It was like he had moved on.

You sat down on a bench and pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, your chin on top. You didn�t know what you had expected exactly, but it was nothing like this.

On the flight back you were so excited you could barely keep still, and the flight attendant kept on coming round to ask if you were okay. You hadn�t even heard his voice in months, never mind seen him, and you managed to convince yourself that he would be there waiting in some sort of stasis, pining away as he awaited your return.

You knew it wasn�t realistic to expect a reunion straight out of one of Emmett�s old movies, all hugs and kisses and cries of �Don�t you dare leave me again!�, but you hadn�t expected everything to be so�well, normal.

It was as if you had left Pittsburgh in a little time capsule where everything went on the same, day in, day out. Where Debbie waited on an endless queue of tables and Brian moved between the loft, the office, and the club, in an unrelenting loop as if his life was a message stuck on repeat.

You had expected everyone to change because you had, but they were all the same, and you felt incredibly na�ve for thinking otherwise. It was disarming, repetitive, and you missed it more than you allowed yourself to realize.

Suddenly, almost as if you were guided by some unseen force, you jumped up from the bench and flagged down a passing cab. It would be expensive, going to West Virginia, but you had money to spare these days. Not enough to squander thousands on homophobic police chiefs running for mayor, or fast cars and faster men, but you had enough that you could afford to do this on a whim. And besides, who could you ask to drive you there?

Never Brian.

Over thirty minutes later the cab stopped outside. You paid the driver and climbed out, telling him you would call the number he gave you when you were ready to go back. The house loomed high over you, and you almost had to pinch yourself to realize it wasn�t a dream. You had enough of those to last a lifetime.

It felt almost spooky looking up at the front of the house, the windows blank and empty, without Brian pulling your excitedly towards the front door.

Britin hadn�t changed either.

-*-

VII. Brian

You had no idea what to do. It had become an irritatingly familiar feeling these days. There was work and Babylon. Heading over to see Mikey at the store, picking up some random guy and taking him back to the loft to fuck into the early hours of the morning until you decided you were tired enough to kick him out and finally sleep.

It all got rather stale after a while.

As Linds and Mel left, taking Gus and JR with them, you called Debb over for another refill, taking your time as you sipped carefully from the mug, waiting for inspiration to hit.

"No new accounts to work on, hon?" Debb asked as she passed you for the hundredth time that hour.

You shrugged in response.

Her shift finally over, Debb chucked her apron on the counter and strode towards you, stopping with her hands on her hips until you looked up.

"I was just going," you said hastily, and made a move to grab your coat.

"The fuck you are!" she replied. "You can make time to laze around here all afternoon, you can make time to talk to me."

Ignoring your groaned response, she slipped into the seat opposite you and ordered a drink from the transsexual who was on for the evening shift.

"It�s always a fucking novelty getting served in here when I don�t have to do it myself," she said, barking a short laugh, and you smiled back, humouring her.

"I heard what happened last night," she said after she took a sip from her cup. "You�re a fucking idiot, you know that?"

"Your son is going to be in a lot of pain by tomorrow," you responded, your voice low, wishing that Mikey would learn when to shut the hell up. "I suggest you find him and make your goodbyes."

She snorted and shook her head, her curly hair bouncing against her ears. "It wasn�t Michael who told me," she said. "A couple of queens were in here earlier. I don�t know about you but I can�t think of anyone else fitting the description of �hot young stuff with a blinding smile� and �that slutty top who bought up Babylon and turned it into his personal sex palace."

Fucking hell, wasn�t anything considered private these days?

You shook your head and squared your shoulders, meeting her gaze. "Look Debb, I let him kiss me, alright? Maybe I fucked up and maybe I didn�t. But I had no intention of discussing this with Ted at the office, or Emmett when he called me on my cell. I�m certainly not about to discuss this with you."

Debb snapped her gum then removed it, sticking it on her saucer. "I wasn�t asking you to discuss it," she said, smiling sweetly.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"I�m here to tell you to shut the fuck up and listen to somebody for the first time in your life."

Her eyes became hard and you made a face. "Please, spare me. I really don�t need to hear this again. You think I don�t know it was a mistake?"

She stared at you for a second and then calmly picked up a spoon and started stirring her coffee. "Brian, how long have you known me?"

What kind of stupid question was that?

"As long as I�ve known Mikey. Since we were kids."

"Right." She pointed at you with her spoon, jabbing it to punctuate her words. "Jesus fucking Christ don�t you think you should have gotten some idea about me by now?"

You blinked a couple of times and continued staring at her.

"I wasn�t going to tell you that you�d made a mistake," she said, and put her spoon down, folding her hands in her lap. "I think you would have been making a mistake if you hadn�t kissed him."

You gaped at that.

"You heard me, Mister. That kid is god damn in love with you for some reason, and I know you love him just as much otherwise you wouldn�t have asked him to marry you."

"It was just an arrangement," you said, looking back down at your cup.

Debb leant across the table and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look back at her, and gave you a stern look. "Don�t you dare fucking sully it like that."

You hated it when Debb told you off.

She let go of your face and settled back in her seat, her gaze softening a bit. "I know what you�re sacrificing for Sunshine," she said. "Even if nobody else sees it."

You ducked your head and began playing with a napkin, shredding it into little pieces.

"You know what you�ve done," Debb continued, and reached across to cover your hand with one of her own. "And he will too, even if he doesn�t see it yet."

You cursed her half way to hell and back in your head - why did you have to be so fucking transparent? - but listened anyway when she pulled photographs of JR out of her handbag and began punctuating every other sentence with �My Granddaughter�.

-*-

VIII. Justin

You stood looking up at the front of the house for a long while after your cab had left, barely aware of the dimming light or the chill in the air.

Britin looked sad and empty, and you found yourself empathizing. You rubbed a clear spot in the window with the palm of your hand, and peered through. It was dark inside, and you could just about make out the shapes of the kitchen cabinets and the old fashioned stove.

The house stood without furniture, as if it was waiting for something, and you wondered whether Brian had sold it yet. You moved away from the window, wishing you had a key, and tried the door anyway. It was locked. You shoved your hands into your pockets and made your way around the back towards the stables, stopping by the empty stalls.

Buying the house was such a stupidly romantic thing for Brian to do, and you still couldn�t quite understand why he had. It was painfully out of character, you thought, but at the same time a small voice in the back of your head told you that it had been an easy gesture for him to make. It was about money for him, and that had always felt safe. You knew without hesitation that it was more comfortable for him to make a grand, extravagant gesture, like buying the house, that it would have been to allow you to convince him that a picnic for two in the park was what you wanted.

You weren�t sure what you wanted anymore, at least not in terms of the intimacies of a relationship. You knew you could never have anything with Brian that could be termed conventional, and you think you realized that when it felt so awkward during his try at monogamy. It wasn�t Brian, and after all, wasn�t that what the entire argument had been about during all those times you fucked up?

Brian had always been honest and true to himself, and that�s what you wanted. It took you long enough to come to that conclusion as you got sidetracked by passing daydreams of the breeder�s ideological 2.4, but you got there in the end. It was just your luck that when you had found that knowledge, Brian decided that he did in fact want to keep you at all costs, even if it meant pretending to be something that he wasn�t. Something that you didn�t want.

It had all become such a big mess, you decided, as you ran your finger along the top of one of the windowsills at the back of the house, and stood up on tiptoes to look inside, but that didn�t mean you didn�t want it any less.

-*-

IX. Brian

You finally managed to get away from Debbie over an hour later, your head swimming with sickeningly happy photographs of JR with Mikey, and vowed to yourself that if Linds ever managed to take another such picture of you and Gus, you would hunt it out and burn it at once.

You stepped out onto Liberty Avenue and pulled your coat around yourself as you made your way towards the loft for yet another evening of a boring shower (taken alone), followed by a quick glance through your takeout menus before you dismissed them all. Then would take an hour in front of the mirror trying to decide which black shirt made you look the youngest, and then finally you would make your way to Babylon under the guise of working, and prop up the bar while you tried to decide which pretty young thing would be lucky enough to get your attentions for thirty minutes.

You hoped Justin wouldn�t be there.

Your cell phone rang before you were even halfway down the street, and you scowled, snapping it open, and stuck it next to your ear.

"Kinney. This better be good."

"Brian? Is that you?" A strange voice belonging to a female. That ruled out a trick then.

"Who is this?"

"It�s Jennifer Taylor."

Shit. Why did she even have your number still?

"Jennifer, what a lovely surprise! How can I help you?" You put on your best business voice in a hope it would stay that way.

"I hate to bother you like this, Brian, but is Justin with you?"

Obviously the world had gone completely mad.

"No, Justin isn�t with me." Why the fuck would he be? "Is there a problem?"

Pause. "I�m not sure. He came in drunk last night, and--"

You rolled your eyes. "He is legal, Jennifer."

"Yes, I know that. It�s just that Michael brought him back and then he returned this morning looking pretty mad."

Ah fuck.

"Did he say anything?"

"I left pretty quickly, didn�t want to intrude." Of course not. "But he did say something along the lines of �What the hell are you doing?� "

"Right. What�s this got to do with me? I�m a busy man. Places to go, people to do."

"We were supposed to be going out tonight. With his father. They had agreed to be civil, and--"

"Maybe Justin forgot."

"No, no that�s not like Justin. He wouldn�t just forget. I can�t help but think he took off to spend some time alone because of something that was said during the visit from Michael."

"Jennifer, look." You were growing bored of the entire conversation. "If Justin wanted to spend some time alone then that�s probably what he�s doing. If he can live in the Big Apple all by himself then I imagine he can fend for himself for half a day in Pittsburgh."

"Brian." Christ, you hated when a woman�s voice took on that tone. It basically said �do something now or else I will whine at your until your eardrums burst."

"Fine. I�ll call the boys and get back to you. Not making any promises, though."

A sigh of relief. "Oh thank you, Brian. I know I�m silly to worry but he�s been acting so strangely since he came back and--"

"Goodbye, Jennifer." Click.

You stuck your cell phone back into your pocket and ran one hand through your hair. Why the fuck did everyone seem to think that if they needed information on Justin then you were the person to go to?

It was almost as if they thought you gave a shit.

You knew it was useless calling anyone. If Justin had wanted to be alone and he was brooding upon an argument he had with Mikey�well, it didn�t take a genius to work out that conversation would have been all about you.

You mentally ticked off all the places he couldn�t be: no, too public, too far away.

You pulled your keys out as you reached your building, and blinked. Surely not?

The key to Britinn sat swinging heavily on your chain, and you cursed having seen it.

That was one place you didn�t want to go to.

-*-

X. Justin

It was getting colder and you considered calling the cab company back to come and fetch you, but standing at the border of West Virginia, freezing your butt off, seemed preferable to spending an uncomfortable evening making small talk with a father who was only beginning to tolerate you now that you were actually selling a few paintings.

That wasn�t the kind of love you were interested in.

Your head jerked up as you heard a car swing into the drive around the front, and an engine was killed. Maybe Brian had sold the house and this was the new owner turning up. Or maybe you had been mistaken and had somehow told the driver of the cab to pick you up again in a couple of hours.

You were just about to make your way around the house to find out, when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Sunshine, are you there?"

Brian. What the fuck was he doing here? More than that, how did he know you were. What did it take to get some peace and quiet?

You considered ducking into the stables and hiding, half annoyed at yourself that you would even contemplate something so childish, when he strode around the corner, the collar of his expensive coat pulled up around his ears, and stopped and stared straight at you.

You hated moments like this: moments that froze everything in some little bubble as if the world had come to a standstill just for the two of you. You didn�t mind when they were the quiet comfortable type, where the ground sunk away and it felt like you were floating, and the only thing you could do was think about how much you wanted to look at him forever.

But this kind you detested. It was as if everything around you had sped up, the crunching of leaves around the courtyard unbearably loud, the bite of the wind snapping your hair against your forehead like whip-slashes. You wanted to look away but you were pinned like a bug to a board, microscopically intensified under his unrelenting gaze.

"Finally," he said, sounding irritated. "I had to postpone an eventful night at Babylon to come here and find you. Your mother is going out of her mind with worry."

You snorted and tucked your hair behind your ear with numb fingers. "I�ve been gone barely a few hours."

"Yes, well, women get an idea into their heads and there�s no stopping them. Especially mothers."

He stepped towards you and held out his cell. "Call her."

You made a face but took it anyway, your fingers brushing, and made the call. The relief in your mother�s voice was tangible. It was almost embarrassing.

You shut the phone again and handed it back. "She�s going to re-arrange the happy families� play-date she had planned for this evening," you told him.

"Wonderful," Brian said, and turned to leave. "Let�s go."

"No."

"What?" he turned back, looking at you in disbelief. "Haven�t you been here long enough? It�s fucking freezing and you haven�t even got a coat."

"I want to go inside."

You couldn�t have told him why, even if he had asked you, but the desire to see the place where it had all come out - the realization of your schoolboy fantasies - was overwhelming, and you weren�t going to leave until you had.

He watched you for a couple of seconds and then wet his lips. "I haven�t got the key with me."

You cocked your head to one side and smiled. "I could always see through your lies."

He shifted his weight onto the other foot, and you almost felt bad for making him feel so awkward. But it was something you needed to do, and if the way he was avoiding looking at the house was anything to go by, he needed it too, whether he liked it or not.

You raised one eyebrow as he continued to stare at you, and you could tell he was beginning to waver.

"The quicker we do it the sooner you can get back to Babylon and lose yourself in the backroom," you told him, trying to appeal to one of his many vices. "Or we could just come back tomorrow and spend the day here."

That cinched it. He looked at you incredulously and moved towards the backdoor. "Ten minutes, Sunshine," he said. "And then I�m gone."

-*-

XI. Brian

You put the key in the door, trying to ignore the dread you felt creeping up your throat. You marvelled at how in the space of only a few months the house had taken on a menacing air, a physical representation of all you once had, and now you had lost.

You stepped back, holding the door open, and looked at Justin blankly as he pushed his way inside, looking around with the same awed expression he had worn when you had first taken him there to propose.

I�m taking my chance on love.

Fuck love. It was such a ridiculous thing to bet on in the first place. You had told yourself over and over again that the only thing that could be relied upon was fucking. It was clean, even when it was messy, and you could always rely on it cheering you up after a bad day at the office.

In contrast, love was evanescent, like smoke, and you could never quite tell when it would slip from your grasp. You had never been much of a betting man, but even you knew that only fools would waste their money on such insurmountable odds.

You wondered what that made you.

You followed him through into the kitchen, trying to keep your eyes somewhere innocuous like the back of his head, or your shoes, and tried not to watch as he began opening cupboard doors.

"What the hell are you looking for?" you asked him, glad of the distraction.

He turned around, a smile on his face, and held up a bottle of J.D. "I remember seeing it last time we were here."

"What made you think I wouldn�t have drunk it already?" you replied, and watched as he took a swig before offering you the bottle.

"I could just tell." He shrugged and you tore your eyes away, taking a sip of the whisky to give you something to focus on.

You were glad of the warmth.

"Can we go now?" you asked, and put the bottle down on the counter.

Justin shook his head, pulling his sleeves down over his hands. "We�ve barely started," he said, and took a step towards you. "What are you afraid of?"

You tilted your head, thinking about it. "People like Mikey�s faux-hetero friends who have probably forgotten what it�s like to have a nice piece of ass, lesbians who are so masculine they would probably be let into the bathhouse without a second glance, and the pink plate special Debbs tried to pass off as beef stroganoff last week."

Justin threw his head back and laughed. You hated that sound. It embodied everything you missed about him, from the groggy look he wore on his face when he first woke up, to the way he used to slip silently into the shower stall, laughing under his breath, and slide his wet hands up over your skin, the pads of his fingers brushing over your hardening nipples�

"Brian?"

You blinked and he came back into focus. Christ, how fucked up were you that you were practically revisiting your worst nightmare by being in this house, and yet you still managed to get a hard-on?

Justin gave you a strange look and headed for the kitchen door.

"Where are you going?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I want to start a fire," he replied, his eyes boring into yours. "Not afraid of a few ghosts are you?"

-*-

XII. Justin

You couldn�t pretend that it wasn�t difficult going back in there, because it was. It was almost like slipping into a time warp, and you had to pinch yourself as you entered the sitting room and saw the fireplace standing empty as if it wasn�t expecting anyone to ever come back.

This is where it all happened. This is where he told you he was selling the loft and the club and risking everything on love.

Back then, as you paced up and down, your mind racing a million miles an hour, you felt as if you were dreaming, and the effect hadn�t lessened any as you stepped back into the room.

It still blew your mind to think that after all those years of waiting, all those years of standing by and wishing, he finally gave you what you craved.

Be careful what you wish for.

You thought maybe you should have been more careful, or at least more precise, sticking a clause in about how you wanted Brian in his entirety and not some living breathing mockery who looked like Brian, sounded like Brian, but was missing some essential spark.

You didn�t believe in God, but you fancied that if you had then you would be quite willing to repent all of your sins and be a good little boy if only he could promise it would all go back to the way it was before the blast.

As you bent down to pull some logs out of the basket and throw them into the grate, you cursed that night more than any other, which was a paradox in itself. It had forced Brian to admit the truth: that he loved you, but as soon as he had spoken those words that you had always thought would change everything, that would cement the deal, you realized you had known it all along.

It had been there in the way he had let you come into his life, all the while pretending he had been looking the other way. It had been there when he took you in after you had awakened from your coma, and he tried everything in his power to get you to remember. It was there when he let you walk back in after Ethan, despite knowing you had broken all the rules.

It was there in the blood stains on the silk scarf, the lines of the drawing he bought and refused to hide, the pixels of the computer screen he fetched from work and made you realize you still had a future.

It sat in that empty bottom drawer.

You turned from the fireplace and saw him standing in the doorway, glancing tentatively around.

"I�m sorry," was the only thing you could say.

-*-

XIII. Brian

I�m sorry.

You blinked at him and moved further into the room as if you couldn�t believe what he had just said and needed to be closer to hear better when he spoke it again.

"What?"

"I said �I�m sorry.� "

You shook your head. You weren�t going to get into this. Not here, not anywhere. Not ever.

"There�s nothing to be sorry for," you said, and undid the top two buttons on your coat. It was getting unbearably hot.

"There�s everything to be sorry for," he corrected, and took a step towards you.

You stared at him and held up one hand. "No. Enough."

"Why won�t you let me apologize?" he looked a little hurt but you couldn�t think about that right now.

"There�s no reason to," you replied, and turned your back on him, moving over to the window.

He seemed to accept that well enough, or if he didn�t then at least he had developed enough sense not to press the subject.

The silence stretched out as you looked across the driveway, idly wondering whether it was time to get a new car. You�d had the other one long enough.

When you turned back around you saw he had already lit the fire and he sat cross-legged on the floor, right in the spot where�

"What the hell are you doing?" you asked, protesting although you pretty much knew you would go along with whatever he wanted anyway.

He�s always been too hard to resist.

"I told you, I wanted to start a fire."

"I didn�t think you�d be stupid enough to actually go through with it," you snorted.

Justin shrugged and leant back a little on his elbows. "You don�t have anywhere better to be, do you?"

Yes. Always. Never. Never�

"As a matter of fact there is a certain club that is currently missing an owner."

Justin rolled his eyes. "We both know that it will get along just fine without you being there to drink away the profits."

You couldn�t exactly argue with that.

"It�s getting warm in here," he continued, and got that obvious sly look in his eyes. You used to find it endearing but now it just threw you off balance. To respond to it would be a big risk. "Why don�t you take off your coat?"

You almost laughed at how transparent he was being. "Will we get out of here any quicker if I do?"

Justin smiled and took another swig from the J.D. that he must have brought in from the kitchen. "I doubt it, but it would do you good to humour someone for a change. Besides, you�re only going to look a bit silly when you�re forced to take it off in ten minutes because it�s too hot in here."

It was pretty much a catch twenty-two, he�d made sure of that, and you shrugged off your coat, turning to fold it over the back of a chair. You�d be damned if you were going to get it dusty because Justin wanted to play games.

You turned back round and there he was standing right in front of you, so close you thought you could count his eyelashes.

You hadn�t even heard him get up.

"I know there�s a lot we have to talk about," he said, his voice low. "Perhaps too much. But there�s one thing I need to know."

You inclined your head, giving him permission, not daring yourself to speak.

"Did I kiss you last night?"

That was one question you hadn�t been expecting.

"Yeah." You let it out on a single breath.

"Did you kiss me back?"

His eyes were on your lips and it made it difficult to think. You nodded your response.

"Oh." He looked a little disappointed. "It seems a waste," he said, "because I don�t remember any of it."

He took your hand, linking your fingers loosely, and looked up at you. Whatever plan of seduction he had been acting out was seemingly abandoned as you looked back into his face. You couldn�t remember ever seeing him this open, this raw.

"One night?" he asked, sounding unsure of himself. "Just give me one night. I promise I won�t try anything to make this more difficult than it already is. I just want us to talk."

You thought the whole thing was rather pointless because there was nothing more that could be said, but as you let him pull you down in front of the fire, squeezing your hand before dropping it and moving just out of reach, you knew that no matter how the evening turned out, that no matter what conclusions would be reached, this wasn�t something you could have ever avoided.

It was almost as if you had known from the minute you saw him at Debb�s party that you would find yourself having �the talk� with him. You didn�t like it one little bit.

But you figured, as you made yourself comfortable and stretched out your legs, if you could afford to buy him a house, then you could afford to give him this.

-*-

Epilogue.

Some people say that when enough time has passed, no matter how painful something once was, it would always be forgotten, but Justin doesn�t agree.

He doesn�t believe that the important things, the important people that you allow into your life, will ever be forgotten. He thinks that even after you forget to spend every minute of every day thinking about them, they will still be there, their influence leaving an indelible print.

One that no matter how hard you try, you can never wash off.
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