On a wintry December morning, Justin’s phone rings. It’s Brian, he’s in the city and on his way to Justin’s Chelsea apartment.

Justin escorts his trick-du-jour to the door, empties the litter box, brushes his teeth twice and brews a fresh pot of coffee.

When he hears Brian on the stairs, he runs out to meet him in the hallway. Justin’s bare feet are flecked with sage-green paint, and Brian still looks like a god.

They grin at each other, and Justin reaches out to brush snow off Brian’s wool coat before pulling him firmly and surely across his threshold.

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