Something Missing, Something Found

Part 4

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Brian was throwing several pairs of underwear and socks into the overnight bag he took out of the closet. A few pairs of jeans and tee shirts followed, then his toiletries from the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Lindsay asked, standing in the doorway. She couldn't believe he was walking out.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters, Brian."

"If you need to get in touch with me, call Michael. He'll know where I am." He closed the suitcase and walked out of the bedroom. He stopped at the desk and picked up some papers and placed them in his briefcase. Lindsay watched him with tear filled eyes. It wasn't until he closed the door behind him that she let those tears spill down her face.

Brian stood on the third floor landing, suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other, debating his options. He never felt quite so at odds before. He could go to Michael's place and sleep on the cramped sofa, or he could go to Debbie's place and listen to her telling him what a fool he was to leave a wonderful woman like Lindsay. Neither option appealed to him.

"Hey," Justin said, peering out of his loft door. "Having problems?"

"I guess. Lindsay isn't too happy with me right now."

"You want to come in, have a drink, maybe?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea."

"You don't look like you have too many other places to go."

Sighing, he walked slowly into Justin's home, thinking what a bad idea this whole thing was, but realizing he wanted to be there more than anything.

Brian had stayed away from Justin's apartment after the first few days. He looked around, surprised at the decor. Where his place was all modern and leather, Justin's place was tastefully traditional with an artistic flair. Bold earth tone colors adorned the few non brick surfaces as well as the various accessories. Justin watched him as he took in his surroundings.

"So, what's the verdict? Does it meet with your approval?"

"It's very nice. Those your paintings?" he asked, indicating some water colors."

"All mine, unless you think they're no good, then someone else did them."

Brian couldn't help the smile that came to his face. "They're very good. I like them." He looked at Justin. "So, I guess you make a decent living, selling your paintings."

"I do alright. I do some freelance artwork, too. You met my friend, Emmett?. I designed the brochure for his catering business. Some other stuff."

Brian nodded, continuing to look around.

"Were you going someplace special?"

"Not really. I didn't think about where I was going. I mean, I could go to my friend Michael's place or to his Mom's. She's been like a mother to me since I was fourteen." He saw Justin raise his eyebrows. "Long story."

"Well, you could stay here, you know. Being this close to home could be a good thing. I have a fairly comfortable sofa. And I'm a passable cook. Make a mean pot of spaghetti sauce. My mother's recipe."

"I don't think my staying here is a very good idea."

"Don't worry, I won't bite. Unless you want me too, that is."

"That's good to know. That you don't bite, I mean. I wouldn't mind staying here if you're sure it's okay with you."

Justin assured him that it was okay, and Brian settled in. Brian didn't seem to want to talk, so Justin let him alone. He took the opportunity to get some work done on a new painting, while Brian looked over some files he had in his briefcase.

Justin had been to the store that morning and had a package of chicken breasts in the fridge. "Chicken and salad okay for supper?"

"Huh?" Brian questioned, looking up from his papers.

"Chicken and salad?"

"Oh, fine. You don't have to go to so much trouble. I could just eat a sandwich or something."

"Nonsense. It's no trouble. I have to cook for me, anyway. One more piece of chicken won't hurt."

"Sounds good. Can I help?"

"There's some wine in that cabinet. If you want to open it and pour us a glass."

Brian found the wine and poured each of them a glass as he watched Justin working in the kitchen. It reminded him of the times he watched Lindsay fix meals. Finally the meal was ready and they made small talk over food and more wine. Much more wine. "Leave the dishes. I'll do them later. Let's go into the living room."

"Where did you learn to cook like that? That chicken was delicious."

"My mom taught me some, and my friend Emmett is a caterer, and I help him when he needs it. He's showed me a lot, too."

"Catering, huh? I thought you were an artist. You ever sell any of your work?"

"Oh sure. But it's not enough, just yet, to keep me in the manner to which I would like to become accustomed. It did help me to buy this loft, though." He was relishing the close proximity to his beautiful neighbor. He began to realize there was more to him than his looks.  The sad hazel eyes told him a lot about the man. Justin wanted to help any way he could. "If you'd like to talk, you know, I'd be glad to listen."

"I'm not much of a talker. That's one of Lindsay's pet peeves. She complains that I don't open up enough to her. She has to guess at what I'm thinking and she's getting tired of it. She thinks I'm keeping secrets."

"Are you?"

Brian stood up and walked to the large window overlooking Tremont. He didn't want to answer that question as the answers would be too hard for him to handle. "I suppose I am."

Justin remained on the sofa, giving Brian the space he needed right now. A few minutes of silence was punctuated by the ringing of the phone. Justin grabbed the receiver and spoke softly. "I can't come tonight, Em. Maybe next week, okay?" He listened a moment the said goodbye and hung up.

"I'm sorry. I'm taking up your time. If you want to go with your friend, it's alright. I can go to a hotel for the night."

"No. No, that was just Emmett. He wanted me to go to Babylon with a group of our friends. I'd really rather stay here."

"Babylon?"

"It's a gay dance club on Liberty Avenue." As an afterthought, he asked, "Have you ever been there? To Liberty Avenue?"

"I know where it is. I went into a bar there once. Forget the name. It had a big red awning over the stairs."

"Woody's. Did you like it?"

Brian shrugged.

"Have you ever, umm, been with a man?"

"Why would I?"

"Because you're gay. I know it and I'm assuming you do, too. Why are you hiding who you are? Married to a woman, denying your real life."

Brian's eyes turned dark. "It's my life to live the way I want. How I live it is nobody's business but mine. Nobody's. Not yours. Not my wi...not Lindsay's. Nobody's." He turned to the window again. "Let's not talk about this again, deal?"

"Deal. If that's what you really want."

"It is."

Changing the subject, Justin asked if he'd like to watch television or a movie. Brian said he was tired and would just as soon get some sleep. Justin brought a blanket and pillow from the bedroom and laid them on the sofa. "You should be comfortable. I've had several friends who've slept on it before."

"I'm sure it's fine." Brian watched Justin walk away. "Justin, thanks."

He wasn't prepared for the smile Justin flashed. "No problem. Goodnight."

"Yeah, `night." Brian sat down, pulling the blanket across his lap. He hoped Justin didn't see the effect that smile had on him. "What am I doing here?" he thought. "And what am I going to do tomorrow?"

Brian had been unable to sleep. The sofa was comfortable enough, but his mind was spinning at an uncomfortable rate. Too much was happening too fast. He picked up his watch and saw that it was almost two am. He remembered seeing a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen cabinet and hoped a shot of that would make sleep come easier. He opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass and the bottle. As he poured a generous amount into the glass, he was startled by a noise behind him.

"Can't sleep either?"

"Uh, no." He held the glass up. "You don't mind do you?"

"No. Pour me one, too." Brian did and handed him the glass. Justin was shirtless and Brian couldn't help but notice the slight, yet well muscled, chest. He could feel his body responding and mentally pushed the thought away.

"This Emmett, is he your boyfriend?"

Justin laughed. "No. Just a good friend. I've known him for about seven years. Ever since he came to Pittsburgh, in fact."

Brian nodded. "Do you have a boyfriend or someone, you know, special?"

"No. There was someone. It didn't work out."

"Care to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

Justin told him about his life with Ethan. He was surprised he was able to talk so easily about this to Brian. When he talked about Ethan's betrayal, he didn't feel the sadness he thought he would. Maybe he was getting back to normal. He felt Brian's hand on his arm, more comforting than sexual. "You are a good listener. You're easy to talk to." Yawning, he said,. "I need to get to bed." He stood, then on impulse, leaned over and kissed Brian softly on the lips. Brian was surprised about the kiss, but instead of pulling back, he let himself feel the other lips on his.

"Brian," Justin said, when the kiss was broken, "there's so much I'd like to share with you, but you're not ready. I can wait." He didn't wait for a response, instead he headed for the bedroom, closing the door softly.

Brian just stared at the closed door for a few minutes, Emotions he never let himself feel before were coursing through his mind. He laid down on the sofa, pulling the blanket over him. He fell asleep quickly this time, strangely comforted by the soft kiss.

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