Step Away

This tells what happened immediately after the party where Justin learns that he's lost out to Steve.

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The party had been Saturday night. Now it was late Sunday morning and Justin was sitting in his studio, wondering just what the fuck he was supposed to do now. Brian had gone upstairs to their room after the party had wound down and the caterers had left. Justin had thought about joining him, God knew he was tired, but he couldn't bring himself to take the stairs to the top floor quite yet. He knew Brian would be in the big bed waiting for him, wanting to talk to him or at least fight it or make some decisions or fuck or something, but he wasn't up to that just yet.

He had gone to the pantry to get a case of wine for the waiters to pass out, had opened the door and found Brian and Steve in there-like high school students-making out.

Jesus.

Steve had come back from London unexpectedly, at least unexpectedly to Justin at any rate, and had evidently either been invited to the party or had amazing timing.

Either way.

Brian certainly hadn't said anything to him about Steve being back in the country. He would have remembered.

Maybe it was Brian's Christmas present.

Whatever.

So Justin had ended up spending the night on the couch in his studio.

It was the first time that had ever happened. Sure, he and Brian didn't always get along like a well oiled machine or anything like that, but they always made a point of trying not be pissed off by the time they went to bed. They succeeded, too. They didn't go to bed angry. Their make up sex was legendary. It was fantastic and amazing. That sounded like the Ladies Home Journal, but it had worked until last night. He just couldn't deal with it.

Steve still wanted Brian. Brian still wanted Steve and that left him-that left him as the fifth wheel.

He wouldn't play sloppy seconds. That wouldn't happen. He wouldn't share Brian. He couldn't. Maybe there were people who could do that-of course there were people who could do that, he just wasn't one of them. He didn't want an ultimatum or any shit like that. He needed to know which one Brian wanted. He'd been on the fence for almost a year now and it was wearing thin on everyone involved. Justin would be willing to bet that Steve would like to know what was happening, too. He would need to make plans one-way or the other. Brian had to get his act together on this.

But if he wanted Steve…

God, if he wanted Steve then Justin would leave. He wouldn't fight it. There would be no point. He would lose and it would be bloody and he just didn't want to go through with it. Better to make a clean break and just get it over, accept what had happened. What real choice did he have?

Maybe Brian would say he wanted Justin, though. It could happen. They had a history together and good times and they were building a life in New York together. That all had to mean something. He knew Brian loved him. He'd almost said it a couple of times and they had laughed about that, about how close he had been to the words.

Maybe he'd already told Steve. Maybe he'd already told Steve that he was in love with him. Maybe he'd told Steve months ago but was afraid of hurting Justin.

Brian wouldn't be afraid of that.

Of course he would. He might hide it, but it would kill him to hurt Justin and they all knew that.

Maybe that was the only reason they were still together.

Maybe he had been in contact with Steve all these months that Justin had thought him safely on the other side of the ocean working in London. Stupid Twat. London wasn't that far away. It was only six hours by plane and e-mails and the phone-stupid twat. Of course they could have been in touch, in fact they'd almost have to be because Brian was running Steve's old company. Sure, it was Brenner/Vanguard now, but it had been Steve's before the merger and he still handled some of his favorite accounts. Brian had said that was part of the deal that he could still keep his hand in, but not have to worry about the day-to-day operation.

He'd have to have spoken to Brian, at least on a professional level. Of course they'd been in touch.

Shit.

But he had loved Brian since the moment that he'd first laid eyes on him on Liberty Avenue, from that first night he'd gone home with him and the minute he'd felt Brian press inside of his body. He'd loved him since then. Even when he'd left with Ethan, he'd still loved Brian.

He still loved Brian.

Ten o'clock in the morning and he was sitting in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee when Brian walked in, Saturday dressed in jeans and a long sleeved designer tee. There was no point in fighting. It simply was what it was.

"Would you like something to eat?"

"Sure."

Justin got out two more mugs, making an assumption. Brian reached around him and put one away. "Steve didn't stay."

"Why not?" He poured the liquid, leaving room for the extra sugar. "Why didn't you go with him?"

"Because we need to get clear on this."

"I'm clear. You want to fuck him and he wants to fuck you. I got it. Cheese omelet OK?"

"Steve and I are in love with each other."

"Yeah, I got that, too. Hand me the cheddar, please. You want me to leave?"

There was an awkward silence. It went on a bit too long and Justin turned to cracking eggs and grating the cheese. Finally, almost to himself he murmured, "I thought that we were in love." If Brian heard it, he chose not to respond to it.

"You can stay here. His place is big enough and there's no reason for you to be on the street." Neither met the other's eyes. "This is Christmas" (And God Bless Us, Everyone flashed through Justin's mind). "Stay here, I won't put it on the market until at least April. That should give you time to find something."

"Fine."

The silence was back.

"Justin…"

He handed Brian the plate with his breakfast on it. "Don't bother. There's nothing to say."

Justin left the room, going back up to his studio where he started work on what would eventually become a series of paintings that would sell well when they were offered at a charity auction a few months later. They would pave the way for Justin's first successful gallery show. They were large and vivid and angry, they would find a wide audience and allow Justin to pay for a decent two-room apartment and avoid the necessity of a roommate, despite his mother's pleadings that he have one for company. He preferred to be alone.

Finishing his eggs and carefully rinsing and putting the dishes in the machine, Brian went up to what had, until the night before, been their bedroom, stripped and changed the bed, packed enough clothes for a week or so-some suits and some casual clothing, into a couple of bags and left by way of the front door. As he loaded his things into a cab he caught a glimpse of blond hair on the top floor window. Justin was watching him leave.

Around dinnertime Justin made his way down, back to the kitchen before deciding that he'd rather not deal and called the local Chinese place to deliver something. While he waited he wandered through the rooms, impeccably furnished and designed. They were sophisticated and warm at the same time. It was a show place and it was empty.

In the bedroom he saw that Brian had left the closet door open and most of his suits were still there, carefully hung up, always ready for him to decide to wear at the last moment. The shelves were filled with the Egyptian cotton shirts and ties were all designer. There were a few gaps where he had chosen which ones he would take with him for now and Justin had no doubt that they would be the things that in Brian's mind made him look the best, the hottest, the sexiest, the most desirable. There would be the tight tees for after hours and the perfectly worn jeans. He would have taken a couple of his favorite leather jackets and his cashmere overcoat and…he would be beautiful.

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The next few months were, not surprisingly, very different for all of the main players involved. If you were to ask them what had happened you would have gotten remarkably similar stories, but if you had then asked the follow up question of how each one of them was doing with the changes, you would have found three different answers.

Steve probably had the easiest time of it, though easy is always a relative term.

He was both overjoyed and quietly happy that Brian had decided to move into his apartment in Trump Tower. Over the months when he had wondered what would be the resolution to the triangle he had never allowed himself to really believe that he would end up with Brian. He had hoped, of course and would fantasize about how things would be between them, but he didn't ever think it would happen. Not really. He knew that Brian loved Justin and that the feelings were returned ten fold. He knew that they had a history together and that there was a real connection between the two. Brian had been Justin's first lover, his first love and in a very real sense Justin had been the first for Brian-at least he was the first who had mattered. There was nothing like that for anyone and he knew that.

Yes, He and Brian had a lot in common, from their careers to their tastes in art and food and friends and humor and levels of maturity. Sure the sex was good and they found one another attractive both physically and mentally, but for Brian to leave his lover for him? No, he didn't think that would happen.

He was older than Brian was and he knew the value Brian put on youth and beauty.

Yes, he was intelligent and accomplished, but he was starting to find the odd gray hair or two and he was at the point of his career where he was ready to wind down-just the oppisite of Justin who was at the start of his. Brian? Well, Brian was in the middle of his work-in a way he seemed to have been playing both ends of the scale.

In truth, if he hadn't believed that he and Brian could be happy together in the long run, he would never had allowed things to go as far as they did. He had promised Brian that he would do nothing to force his hand as to a decision and he had tried to keep to that-but they'd had to talk on the phone about accounts and clients, about how the agency turnover was proceeding and how the new leadership was working out. There had been conference calls about profit margins and new campaigns. They had e-mailed about this and that and though they had both tried to keep it professional, the genuine friendship between them, the attraction was there no matter how they tried to pretend that it wasn't.

But they didn't meet again face to face until he had flown back to New York for the holidays.

Yes, of course, he had told himself-and he almost believed-that he was there to see his brother and his sister and his mother for a few days. He did see them. He loved his family and he missed them.

He did.

Then he had heard about the agency Christmas party at Brian's place and he knew that if anyone found out that he had been in the city and hadn't gone it would be awkward.

He also knew that was an excuse and the moment he saw Brian talking to Christian, both of them laughing about something or other, the second Brian turned around when someone touched his arm to point out who had just walked in and they had first seen one another it had been like a physical blow.

In minutes they were in the damn pantry practically raping one another and then before things had gone too far and they both still had all of their clothes on, the fucking door had opened and Justin was standing there looking for another case of wine.

They had broken apart, of course and Brian had just said that he would handle it.

That wasn't what either of them had wanted to happen. Honest to God, it wasn't. Alright, maybe they should have known, maybe they should have been able to see what the consequences would be if they found themselves together after almost a year apart, but neither of them wanted Justin to walk in, to find them like that.

Steve knew that the young man's life had been shattered and that he was at least as much to blame as Brian. He knew that. He actually liked Justin. He did. No one had wanted him hurt.

And besides, Steve had honestly never thought that Brian would give up what he had with the young man to take a chance on someone else.

He thought that he had Brian pegged as far as that went.

Brian was too concerned about hurting the young man, too worried about leaving a sure thing-strong, confirmed love-for a crap shoot with some one else after the years and decades that Brian had spent with walls up around himself. No, it couldn't happen. There were too many reasons why it wouldn't work.

But they had fallen in love. They had fallen into the real thing and they both had recognized it for what it was.

And now, a couple of weeks later, they had to try to sort out the pieces.

Brian was in his place now. He had moved in. The moving people had left his clothing and his personal effects a couple of days ago and that was what they were talking about now.

Big as the apartment was, it was somewhat cramped with both of them there and they both knew it would only get worse as time went by. They weren't college kids sharing a dorm room, they were mature men who were used to having their own homes.

More importantly, both of them knew that it would be a mistake to live in a place that was the original turf of either of them. They wanted to start out on equal footing in a home that belonged equally to both of them. That was important.

And they both had acknowledged that they would be together for a long time.

They were a perfect fit. They knew it. It was amazing how good they were together.

"I just spoke to the building manager. That duplex is going on the market next week, but we can have first refusal."

"It's a lot more money than this place will bring."

"Of course it is, but it's twice as big, it's a duplex and it's on the 67th and the 68th floors with views of the park. Besides, your townhouse will bring a million, easy." Awkward silence. He knew that Brian was letting Justin stay there. "When you're ready to sell it."

"It's five million dollars."

"Brian, love, between the two of us and the sale of our two places, we'll pay the place off in less than two years, easily." They each made over a million a year now with the merger and the bonuses they both generated.

"Fine, let's go see it."

"The appointment is in an hour."

Brian gave one of his amused smirks. "You thought that you could manipulate me that easily?"

Steve leaned over and kissed him. "I know you like the best." The innuendo was obvious.

There was a guarded look on Brian's face-Justin had been the best, in his own way. He was becoming the best homosexual that he could. He'd taken it as a challenge that night in Babylon years ago and he was living up to it. He had thrown it in Brian's face more than once and he was succeeding well.

But Steve was the best, too.

They both were and in moments of introspection Brian would occasionally wonder at-marvel at the fact of how it could be that he-he!-had somehow ended up the prize in the tug of war between the two. They both amazed him with their accomplishments and their drive, their intelligence and talent and their quite different forms of beauty.

Though he would likely never admit it, he was astounded by it.

They walked through the new condo upstairs. It was a showplace, as was to be expected. The rooms were large with high ceilings; the windows soared on one entire side. There were working fireplaces in both the living room and the master bedroom, which Steve had fallen in love with. The bathrooms would have given any hedonist new ideas about what a bath should include.

Yes, the building itself was slightly ridiculous and the lobby was an embarrassment of overblown taste, but the condo itself more than made up for it. They would take it, thank you. If the owners would accept their offer of four and a half, they would sign an agreement as soon as it could be drawn up.

The offer was agreed to later that evening-the owners proved eager to sell-and plans were put into place to sell Steve's place now.

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That had been in March. One morning in late January Brian called Justin from his office, getting his cel. Since the new semester had started, he wasn't as sure of Justin's class schedule as he had been a few months before.

"Brian? I'm on my way to class. Can I call you back?"

"This will just take a minute."

"OK. Shoot." That used to be an old joke between them. They both separately smiled at the memory, neither one saying anything about it.

"Just a couple of things. I'm planning to put the townhouse on the market at the end of March. Will that be a problem for you?"

"...No, that's fine."

"Your grades were sent to me here at the office. You made Dean's List. Did you know?"

"I heard." There was a silence for a few moments, then "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm good, Justin. Look, I'm sorry that…"

"Sorry's bullshit. You did what you wanted to do." Angry, bitter. "You know, like always."

This was probably pointless, especially now, but he wanted to get this out, whether Justin wanted to hear it or not. "We wouldn't have worked long term. I knew it if you didn't." He said it as kindly as he could, without anger or accusation.

"Then you know dick. I'll be out of your fucking house by the end of the month." The connection was cut off before the tears Brian could hear starting could come.

Damnit. He hadn't wanted this. He hadn't wanted to hurt Justin and he hadn't wanted to feel like crap because he and Steve were happy. He'd even had a short fantasy that they would all be friends and he and Steve would go to Justin's openings and have dinner together now and then. Justin would meet someone and they could all double for a movie…

OK, the fantasy hadn't lasted more than about fifteen seconds, and if he was honest-as he tried to be-he knew that Justin was on the ropes about this. He was angry and hurt and feeling like a used piece of boy ass and nothing anyone said to him would change that for a while.

He had probably assumed that he and Steve had been together the whole time he'd been working in London and the truth was that though they had been in touch for business, both of them were so intent on not pushing anything that they had usually spoken through intermediaries. They had kept their distance from one another, at least personally.

Sure there had been that late night talk from London about three months ago. Steve had called after some party. He'd been drunk, which was unusual for him and he was lonely. He had talked with Brian for almost two hours, telling him how he'd been hit on by some hot thing and all he could think of was spending the night with Brian, showering together and making love and then talking for hours afterwards the way they had. It had all been so easy and comfortable, the two of them. He missed that, missed the quiet certainty that they were solid and could trust one another. He knew they had that. If he weren't so sure he would have just dropped the whole thing and left Brian alone.

Then, as he started to sober up he had talked about how he would leave Brian alone, that he wouldn't bother him again if that were what he wanted. He would.

Brian had told him that he wasn't bothered, that he could call any time, that they could always talk. He couldn't say more, being Brian, but that was enough for both of them to understand that they were still on.

After that night, Justin's days were numbered.

It was just a matter of time and the only one who didn't realize was Justin and that knowledge was tearing Brian apart. He knew he should tell him, that the kindest thing was to be honest, but the fact was that he did love Justin.

He did.

They were important to one another, had been for years and that wouldn't change if they stopped being lovers.

Justin wouldn't understand that, of course, not for a long time, but it was true.

He even still desired Justin. Their sex life was still as good as ever, but more and more, he missed Steve. He wanted Steve beside him in bed when he woke up and he wanted to be able to walk into Steve's office and see the smile he had gotten used to seeing.

He did. He wanted Steve.

They had never talked about when Steve would return to the States. It had been left open ended and so Brian had no reason to think he would show up at that Christmas party. He honestly didn't.

But Steve had shown up and Justin had walked in on them and now they were buying a home that would belong to both of them and they had even joked about maybe doing the deed when the laws were changed.

They joked about that now and then and both of then knew that they weren't joking.

So a couple of months went by and the duplex, as it would always be called, was signed over. Steve's place had sold quickly, the address being in demand Justin had been told that he was welcomed to stay on for a while at the townhouse but he had refused so their realtor listed that place, too, happy for the extra commission. The townhouse was sold after less than a month on the market. With the improvements that Brian had made, he had turned a nice profit.

Brian had contacted Justin's school as well, giving them the new address to send the tuition bills. Justin had called him at the agency, insisting that he would handle it, thank you and piss off, but Brian maintained that-as before with Ethan-a deal was a deal and he would uphold his end of it.

Justin had, reluctantly agreed, insisting that it would be paid back in full plus interest, as per their original agreement.

Fine. Brian wasn't going to argue. It didn't matter to him and if it was important to Justin, then so be it.

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That's how things stood for another four or five months. Steve and Brian were happy in their new lives and in each other and Justin sort of faded into the background. Brian would think of him, of course, but they didn't call or see one another. Undoubtedly Justin was still in pain and Brian was simply too happy and too busy to dredge up what had become an increasingly distant memory.

Sometimes he was bothered by that, but then Steve would walk into the room or they would kiss and he'd push it to the back of his mind.

It was about eight months after the breakup that Brian was told that there was a Mrs. Taylor on line five for him. Could he take the call?

"Jennifer?"

"Brian, have you heard from Justin?"

"Not in a couple of months. Why, is something wrong?"

"You could say that, yes. Daphne was in New York visiting him last week and she's upset. She said that he'd been drinking and that he's club hopping til all hours of the morning. Do you know anything about this?"

"I haven't seen him since around Easter."

"Well, I know that you two aren't together, but could you maybe at least go talk to him? Daphne told me that this has been going on since you moved in with that Steve person."

"Ah, so it's my fault that he's getting drunk?"

"No, but it's your fault that he feels a need to and that he's all alone in that big city. He'd still be here in Pittsburgh if you hadn't moved him there so you two could be together."

Shit. He hated mother conversations with all his heart and all his soul.

Mothers. Jesus.

"Fine. I'll talk to him."

"See that you do." She hung up and he sat staring out his window for a minute, then "Cynthia. I'm going out for a while. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

"What about your three o'clock?"

"If I'm not back ask Steve to cover for me."

Half an hour later he was walking into the main office at Pratt and asking where he might find Justin Taylor. They were hesitant about giving out the schedule until Brian managed to prove that he was the person paying Mr. Taylor's tuition and he really needed to speak to the lad since he had moved without providing a forwarding address-assuming that the school wanted to continue receiving his money, of course.

He walked up to the studio where the figure drawing class was in progress and went over to Justin's easel.

"Do you have a minute?"

"I'm busy." He was also pale, had lost weight and had circles under his eyes.

"Take a break."

Sighing with none too good grace, Justin glanced at the instructor who nodded and led Brian out to the empty hallway. "What do you want?"

"What's this shit I hear about you clubbing every night til four?"

"What the fuck do you care? It's none of your fucking business what I do."

"Well, yeah, it is. I'm paying for your fucking school. I have a vested interest in you not flunking out."

"Don't worry about it-they love me here." He turned to go back to his drawing.

"How many STD's have you been treated for in the last six months?"

"…I'm insured and I'm clean."

"Now. They can treat clap and syph. Next time it could be HIV."

Justin stopped. "I'm fine. I'm being careful. I just said that you don't have to worry about me."

"I do worry." He was almost embarrassed to admit, but then emotions were never his strong suit.

Justin turned back to him. "I'm alright, I really am, Brian." He pulled out a cigarette, offered one to Brian and they both lit up. "I heard that you and Steve are doing well." He took a drag.

"We're good."

"I saw you in the Village a couple of weeks ago. You both seemed like you were happy." It was thrown like an insult, as though they had committed a public indesecretion or consorted with known criminals.

Fine, time-belatedly-for honesty. "We are happy."

"We used to be happy."

Yes, they had been, for a while. But that was then and this was now. He didn't want to hurt Justin, but he had to tell him this. "Yes, we were, but we're not going to get back together. I'm with Steve now, Justin and I'm not going back either to you or to Pittsburgh or to anything else."

There was one of those awkward pauses when you know that there's this big hippopotamus in the room and someone has to mention it or it'll never leave. "If I ask, will you tell me the truth?" He didn't even have to voice the question.

Brian nodded, looking out the window at the end of the hall. "I did love you. I still do and I think we might have been happy if we'd stayed together." He pulled on the cigarette, stalling, not wanting to hurt the boy. "I just finally realized that I love Steve more." He looked at Justin, didn't dodge. "When Steve came back, when I saw him, I knew he's who I wanted. I always thought the idea was bullshit, but I've found my soul mate." He had a small smile, almost of wonder, "And he feels the same about me." He said it softly, almost as if he couldn't believe it himself.

"And staying with me would have been second rate?"

"You were always first rate, you know that. We were good."

"But he's better?"

"He's not better than you are, he's just better for me, Justin, that's all. And I think I'm good for him." He seemed so sad when he said it. "After a while, I don't think we would have worked anymore. And then it would have gotten terrible for both of us."

"Instead it was just terrible for me."

"It will pass, it will fade. I'll fade." He made a move to touch Justin's cheek in a small caress, but pulled back before his hand made contact. "You can have anyone you want, Justin-you're amazing and talented and smart and you're beautiful. You can have anyone. You'll see."

His answer was a thin smile.

"You'll clean up your act?"

"Does it matter to you if I do?" It was a real question wanting a real answer.

"It matters. You matter." That was it, no appeal. Brian wouldn't change his mind. Justin knew that was the final nail for them together. It wasn't so much that Brian would never take him back, it was simply that he'd found someone he wanted more. Justin had been shifted, as far as Brian was concerned, to the group of friends who made up his family. He was no longer more than that and he had no choice but to accept it or leave. Of course, Brian was fiercly loyal to his family.

He nodded. "Alright. I'll do you proud."

This time Brian did let his hand cup the boy's cheek, like you would pat a small child who'd gotten an A on a math test. He smiled, glad that the problem had finally been dealt with. "Call if you need anything. You know that I mean that. Anything-call me." Justin nodded as Brian turned walked away and down the stairs at the end of the hall, listening to the footsteps disappear.

"But you're wrong, Brian. I can't have you."

 

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