Going or Staying

Chapter 3

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When Justin arrived back at the loft, he was only slightly surprised to find it empty. He pulled a sketchbook out of his bag and settled on the futon to wait. His mind wandered as his fingers idly doodled on the page. Before he knew it, Brian's image stared back at him from the paper, his expression the one of hope and vulnerability he'd worn when asking Justin to move in. "Shit," the blond breathed, tossing the traitorous book to the floor. He'd been so wrapped up in Brian's words and the implications they'd have on his plans that he hadn't considered how hard it might have been for his lover to finally admit he wanted him there. As he was pondering this, the loft door slid slowly open.

In an instant, Justin was on his feet, turning to see the brunette make his way unsteadily into the loft. His spirits dropped as he realized his partner had been drinking, probably while still taking the pain medication he'd been prescribed. Suddenly, all hopes for a serious discussion seemed to fly right out the window. Unsure how his presence would be received, his offered a simple. "Hey."

Brian smiled wryly at the greeting. "Well, well, well," he intoned, his voice tinged with the effects of the few drinks he'd had before leaving the loft. "What do we have here? In case you've forgotten, you don't live here, Sunshine."

Justin cringed inwardly at the words. Had Brian changed his mind about wanting them to live together? Was this his way of taking back the invitation? "I could," he replied, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. "If the offer still stands."

He used the words intentionally, hoping Brian would remember the last time he'd spoken them. They'd made love only moments later. Sure, Brian might recall it as fucking, but Justin knew better. Their relationship had reached a new level that day.

His lover's angry expression told him that this time would end differently.

"Forget it," Brian sneered, waving his hand in dismissal. "You were right, it was a bad idea."

"I didn't say that, Brian," Justin defended himself.

"You didn't say anything!" Brian shot back. Then, with a wry smirk, he added, "And that pretty much said it all, didn't it?"

"I can explain," Justin began.

"No need," the brunette brushed him off flatly. "Like I said, it was a bad idea."

"It was a great idea," the younger man countered. "It was the best fucking idea you've ever had, Brian."

"Ah," Brian shot back sarcastically. "So, you didn't answer because you were rendered speechless with joy, is that it?"

The blond knew that to answer any way but honestly would only make matters worse. "No," he replied quietly.

Before he had a chance to say anything more, Brian effectively cut him off once again. "That's what I thought."

Justin watched as the older man made his way to the counter where the bottle of JB still stood beside an empty glass. Neither had been there when he'd left earlier. "Brian," he hedged cautiously. "You shouldn't be drinking while you're on the meds. I think you've already had enough."

Pouring amber liquid into the glass, Brian raised it in a mock toast. "As I've always said, there's no such thing as enough." With that, he downed the drink in only two swallows.

"I think we need to talk," Justin suggested, trying to take his lover's mind off the booze. "I need to explain why I left the way I did."

"Not like it's the first time," Brian muttered.

The words hurt, but Justin tried to hide that fact. "That's not fair, Brian," he said, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "This is nothing like that."

Brian turned to glare at him. "Funny," he sneered derisively. "Didn't feel much different from where I was standing."

Justin didn't know what to do with that. Aside from exacting a promise that the blond never play violin music in his presence, Brian had never let on how much their separation had hurt him. Deciding to try a different approach, he moved to where Brian was standing and reached out to touch his lover's arm, only to pull back when his touch was avoided. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He paused, contemplating the wisdom of his next words. "Then or now."

Brian let out a mirthless bark of laughter. "You didn't hurt me, Sunshine," he stated harshly. "You did what you had to do then, you'll do what you have to do now. If living at Daphne's is what you want, then don't let me stand in your way."

Figuring this was as good a time as any to broach the subject, the blond took a deep breath. "I won't be living at Daphne's," he stated. "I want to live here, with you." He paused, waiting to see Brian's reaction to his words. When his lover refused to let anything show, he continued. "But it's not that simple right now."

Brian only shrugged and turned to move away. "Fine."

"Wait," Justin said, grabbing his arm to stop him from leaving.

The older man ceased moving, remaining with his back to his lover.

"Brett Keller offered me a job," Justin explained to the other man's back.

Brian turned, one eyebrow raised in slight surprise, but said nothing.

"Assistant art director on the movie," the blond continued. "It would mean staying in L.A. for six months or so."

Something flashed through the ad exec's eyes, but it was too brief for Justin to get a real read on it. After allowing the words to sink in, Brian prodded, "And?"

Taking a deep breath, Justin blurted out, "And I told him I'd do it."

"I see," Brian replied thoughtfully. He hadn't had anything to drink besides the few shots he'd had in the loft, but they'd hit him harder than he'd expected. Now, strangely enough, he seemed suddenly sober. After a moment, he shrugged. "Sounds like the perfect job for you. All those hot, blond, beach boys. Surfer dudes, Malibu parties." He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "Have a ball."

Somewhat in shock, Justin watched his lover turn and walk up to the bedroom. After a moment, he gathered his wits and followed. "Is that all you have to say?" he demanded incredulously.

Brian was sitting on the side of the bed, removing his t-shirt. With a shrug, he replied, "What do you want me to say, Justin? You made up your mind. I'd be jumping at the chance if I were you."

"Yeah, I know," Justin retorted bitterly, memories from the past making their way to the surface. "You'd walk out that door and never look back. I remember."

"That's right," Brian replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "That's exactly what I'd do." Looking away, he muttered, "And that's exactly what you should do."

Justin's anger lessened at the resigned tone of voice. Kneeling in front of his lover, he cupped his chin to turn the tousled auburn head to face him. "Things are different now," he said softly. "We're different." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "We're partners now." When his lover refused to respond, he added, "But the biggest difference is, if I walk out that door, it will be to do a job, nothing more." He swallowed hard and concluded, "And I'll always, always be looking back."

Brian didn't know how to respond to that. He wanted to believe Justin's words, and he did, to a point. Mainly, he believed that Justin believed them. But he was still so young. This was his big chance, the chance to show the world what he could do. How could he possibly know how he would feel about things six months from now? Brian was painfully aware of just how living in Los Angeles for six months could change the younger man's outlook on life. He'd be a different person when he came back - hell, if he came back. And while Brian wanted him more than he'd ever wanted anything, he didn't want to chain him to a promise that he might decide he didn't want to keep.

What's more, Brian didn't think he'd be able to endure endless weeks wondering when the call would come. Wondering when Justin would realize that he didn't want to come back to Pittsburgh.

Wondering when he'd lose him once again.

In a manner honed from years of experience, he plastered a wry smile on his face. "Now, Sunshine," he intoned dryly. "How are you supposed to do your best work if you're looking back instead of ahead?" He got to his feet, breaking the gentle hold the blond still had on his chin, and headed into the bathroom.

Justin followed. "It doesn't always have to be all or nothing," he stated. "I don't have to be in L.A. for another three weeks. I can move in here, and then I'll go, do what I need to do for Rage and I'll be back before you know it and we'll be together again."

Brian braced his good hand on the edge of the counter and closed his eyes. "No," he said quietly after a moment.

"No?" Justin parroted in confusion. "No, what?"

Brian turned to face him, his mask of indifference firmly in place. "You should go, Justin, that's not even a question."

"But?" Justin prodded reluctantly.

"But you won't be moving in here first," he replied quietly. "I won't do that to you."

"Do what?" Justin demanded, anger and panic vying for control of his mind. "What would you be doing to me, Brian?"

"Neither one of us knows where we'll be in six months," he explained as calmly as possible. "I don't want you thinking you have an obligation to come back here. I don't want you to think of this as your home. I don't want…" He paused a moment, swallowing the unfamiliar emotions his words were invoking. "I don't want anything here to hold you back."

"You're not holding me back, Brian," Justin explained, trying to keep the desperation from his voice. "You never have. You always said it was my call where I want to be. Well, I want to be where you are. I want this to be my home. I want to know I have something to come back to."

"Justin…"

"No!" the blond yelled. "I won't let you do this again, Brian!" His voice softened as he stared into the hazel eyes. "I won't let you push me away again for my own good."

"And what about my own good?" Brian demanded, suddenly angry. "Am I just supposed to sit back and let you waltz in and out of my life as the mood strikes? Well, I've got news for you, Sunshine; the sex isn't that fucking good!"

Justin could only stare at him in pained shock.

"And, as you know, I don't do long distance," Brian added with a cruel smirk. "You want a life in L.A., fine. Just don't expect me to be a part of it."

"What are you saying?" Justin asked, his voice not much more than a whisper.

Despite his resolve, the pain in his lover's eyes touched something in him and his expression softened somewhat. "I'm saying, it's been fun," he said quietly but without emotion. "But this is it. It's over. When you walk out that door, don't bother looking back." He struggled to get the next words out despite his cool façade . "There won't be anything here for you to see."

With that, he pushed past Justin to leave the room. At the doorway, he paused. Without turning around, he stated, "I want you gone when I get back."

Justin stood where he was, trying to get his mind around what had just happened. When he heard the loft door open and close a few minutes later, he made his way slowly from the room and started to aimlessly gather his things.

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