Brian wasn't sure what made him look up just before he got into his Jeep. He and the guys had been in Babylon, but nothing there interested him for some reason. And it was getting late and it was a workday tomorrow, or rather later today. So he left the dance club unsatisfied and a little high.

But he did look up and his gaze fell to the hazy glow of the nearby street lamp. And there he was, all golden, staring back at him. Brian ignored his friends' exasperated cries and walked toward the boy.  That first, close up sight took his breath away. Blue eyes stared back at him from an innocent face, much younger than should have been on Liberty Avenue that time of night.

"Had a busy night?" he asked.

Later, at the loft, when he got his first look at Justin, naked and a little scared, but trying so hard to be the man he wanted to be, Brian knew he was seeing perfection. Perfect, perfect, perfect. Oh, there was the odd little scar here and there that all boys seem to acquire. Even boys too young to know they're gay.

Even now, he's still perfect, despite the new scars. Brian gently pushes the blond hair aside. New scars, acquired by young men who know they're gay and are proud of it, unafraid of it.

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