Acknowledging Fears

Chapter 21

Author's Note: Thank you to the What Love Means site for the direct quotes from the episode 410, particularly Leah/Reboot.

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That night when Brian came into the loft, Justin was lying on the futon mattress, sketching madly. Seems he got his muse back, Brian thought, relieved that he had found inspiration. "Hey, Sunshine," Brian said.

The blond looked up and then lit up. He's excited to see me, Brian realized. He belatedly thought he'd missed seeing that expression on his lover's face. "Hey, Brian. How was dinner with Mom? Anything earth-shattering happen?"

"Fine. Craig happened."

"You're fucking kidding me, right?"

Brian slowly shook his head and said, "Wanna join me in the shower while I tell you all about it? It's been a long day."

Once in the shower, Justin found himself wrapped in Brian's arms. It was an embrace so tight that he could barely breathe but knew better than to complain. Still he looked up at the older man and said, "You OK?"

"Not really," Brian admitted. "Your mom referred to me as her son-in-law. You know anything about that?"

Squirming in Brian's arms, Justin couldn't quite meet Brian's eyes. "I think she wishes we were going down the same path as Michael and Ben. That we might someday walk down the aisle. I think it's dawned on her that Molly's the only one that'll give her grandchildren. Or be a mother-in-law."

Okay, this is a slippery slope, Brian thought, as his arms tightened once against on the slippery blond. "She does have a grandchild," Brian reminded him. "And we won't be standing in front of an altar, Sunshine. But that doesn't mean that she can't still hope- after all, that's what mothers do." Except mine whose concept of hope includes trying to change me into something I'm not and never will be.

It took Justin a minute to realize what Brian meant when he said that his mother already had a grandchild. Then he tipped his head back and removed the soap from Brian's hand. "Are you talking about Gus?"

"Well, you're as much his dad as I am."

Holy fucking shit, Justin thought. Did he just say that or am I living an episode of The Twilight Zone? "But----"

Brian gave him a hard look and snatched the soap back, running a loving hand down Justin's crack, probing between his slippery cheeks. "But what, Sunshine?" he asked, finger probing Justin's hole. He felt it slip deeper and deeper and then curled the tip up towards the top of Justin's hole.

"He's your son," Justin said, exhaling sharply as Brian began to move his finger from side to side then top to bottom. He couldn't help wishing it was his tongue instead.

"And you're the one who named him. You're as much as his father as I am."

"I think the munchers would disagree," he pointed out, then gasped as Brian withdrew the probing digit.

"You're my fucking partner, Justin. And how long do you think it'll be before Gus starts calling you Daddy Jus'n? You know it's only a matter of time."

It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it; he'd just never thought Brian had thought about it. Brian turned him to face him and kissed him, tongue ruthlessly plundering the depths of Justin's mouth. When they separated, Justin looked down and realized that Brian wasn't hard. And, he realized with a surge of guilt, that he wanted to feel Brian's dick going up his ass. He wanted to squat over that beautiful cock and then lower his ass down onto it.

"You miss fucking me, don't you?" Brian asked.

Not sure quite how to answer that, Justin settled on a nod. "But I'm not going to the baths or the backroom."

"Not even with my blessing? Not even if I promised that when I can get hard again I'll let you top me at least once a week."

"That's bribery," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well both of us are pretty fucking desperate. Only one of us should have to suffer the indignity of blue balls. No sense in being a martyr, Justin. At the end of the night, I'm the one you'll be coming home to. I'm the one whose bed you sleep in." Reminded of the words he'd once spoken on the dance floor so long ago when he'd leapt off the cliff, assuming Justin would be there to catch him. He couldn't help wondering if he'd be there for him now.

Justin stared at him. "Brian, are you all right?"

Turning off the water, Brian waited to hand him a towel before answering. "Why didn't you tell me your dad hit you when he found out you were gay?"

How the hell did that even come up? "Because I knew how you'd react."

"How would I have reacted Sunshine?"

Sighing, Justin flopped on the bed. "You'd have gone after him. You'd have beaten the shit out of him."

"The only reason I didn't press charges when he attacked me outside of Woody's was because he was your dad, Justin. I'm lucky my ribs were only bruised and not broken. But if I'd known that he'd laid a hand on you, there was nothing you or Debbie could have said to stop me."

"I know," Justin said. "But I didn't want you riding to my rescue like I'm some heroine out of some ridiculous fairy tale. Even then, I didn't want you to solve all my problems."

"What about the Gay and Lesbian Student Alliance?" Brian asked, lying down beside him on the bed.

"You fucked the shit out of me and suggested I hand out condoms. But when my locker was set on fire I didn't come running to you."

Brian remembered how angry he'd been when he'd first heard about that. From Michael, of all people, the least likely candidate to share news about Justin's life. "Maybe you should have."

Justin's eyes narrowed as he stared at his partner. "Do you think that if you'd stepped in Hobbs wouldn't have bashed me?"

"I didn't say that," Brian said, knowing that Justin had the eerie ability of reading his thoughts at times.

"But you still think that. Christ, Brian, he might have gone after you. He might have gotten both of us. Two more tragic victims of gay bashing making the headline of a newspaper. Yet another thing for the interest groups to lobby about in an attempt to get equal recognition for gays. Fuck that. You couldn't have prevented anything." And it's not healthy for you to let that eat you up inside, he thought, realizing it was yet another form of sickness.

"Okay, Simba. I know that it was probably inevitable. That nothing I did or didn't do would have altered what happened that night. But, fuck, I wish you could remember it."

"Why?" Justin asked. "Why is it so important to you that I remember?"

Because it would make everything right if you did, Brian thought. You'd know I love you and I wouldn't have to say it. It wouldn't be something you crave like a virgin craves sexual intimacy. "It just is. Daphne understands that."

"Daphne was there that night. Daphne saw how we were together. It kills me knowing that it hurts you that I don't remember."

"What about hypnosis?"

Justin raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's not covered by my insurance. Besides, isn't that kind of hokey? What if I discover a past life?"

"I'll pay for it."

"Brian."

"I'll pay for it." Brian's words gave no room for a rebuttal.

"You already are," Justin pointed out. "You already are the one paying for the memory of that night."

"I want you to have that night back, Sunshine. I want you to remember that night. Please."

It was rare when Brian Kinney said the word please, much less in a tone that could only be described as pleading. "Okay, Bri. I'll go but I want you to go with me."

"Done." He knew his easy capitulation was not likely to soothe his partner but it was easier than fighting about it.

Justin rolled over to gently lie on top of Brian. "Brian, what happened with my dad?"

Sighing, he looked at the younger man. "You really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

"He lit into Jen about being with a child molester. Then he accused me of not only corrupting you but corrupting her."

Justin couldn't help but snort. But Brian wasn't amused. "He said some shit about how he wanted to kick my ass. So I reminded him that every time he's come after me it's been in a chicken shit manner. That he totaled my jeep."

"Um, Mom didn't know about that."

"Yeah, I found that out. Nice of you not to tell her, Sunshine. Remember making me that horrific hangover cure that your alcoholic grandmother used."

Justin's expression said "sorry" more eloquently than any words could. "So what else happened?"

Brian laughed. "Your dad threatened to talk to the owner. I think he figured he could throw his weight around."

"This is the restaurant where you and I brought the waiter back here, right?"

Brian nodded. "I told him that I knew the owner and he had less credibility there than Kenneth Lay."

"Nice," Justin said, approving.

"He really is the Prince of Darkness, you know." Brian glanced at his lover. "You know he's seeing someone right?"

Justin nodded. "Mom mentioned it. So is she old?"

"Um, no. She's younger than you. I think your mom said her name was Melissa Lancaster."

Justin's mouth dropped open. "My father is fucking Melissa Lancaster! Christ, that must be a wonderful sight to see at the country club."

"Yeah, your mom seemed pretty pissed about it. She told him that he was the one robbing the cradle now. That he needed to take Melissa home for a nap."

He grinned. "Mom said that?"

"Yeah, she really held her own with Craig. Your mom is an incredible woman, Sunshine."

Staring at him for a second, Justin said, "She's grown on you, huh?"

Disturbed to realize that was true, Brian was forced to nod. "Well, we've come a long way from the day when she stormed into my office and gave me a bag of your shit and a check. I think she actually may like me."

"Humph. Well, haven't I always said that you're lovable?"

Brian glared at him. "Don't start that shit."

"So how did she react when you told her about the cancer?"

Still rocked by the calm reaction of Jennifer, Brian spoke slowly. "She was actually cool about it. Asked me about my chances. She didn't get overly emotional or light into me. She asked if there was anything she could do. Reminded me that I need to tell Debbie." Pausing a moment, he took a deep breath, "I told her about the will and Kinnetik. I told her about the DPA."

Justin's mouth gaped and he saw Brian smile slightly, a slight curving of the lips that wasn't quite a smile but wasn't a snarl either. "Um, I thought you wanted to keep that between the two of us."

Answering wryly and remembering his admission of how he really felt about Justin, Brian said, "Your mom has a right to know. She asked me if you were simply convenient."

"What is it with Taylors' and assuming you think I'm simply convenient?" Justin shot back.

"Pretty much my reaction, Sunshine. But I didn't say as much. She knows that we're in for the long haul now."

Allowing that to sink in, Justin reached into his backpack and withdrew a stapled group of papers. "While you were gone I worked on something." He handed it to Brian waiting as the recognition crystallized in the hazel eyes. "I printed it out while you were at dinner with Mom."

Looking at the document he held, Brian took a deep breath. Christ, he thought, this had to be fucking traumatic for you. But you did it because you thought I needed you to do this. "Justin, this is your will. You didn't have to do this."

Sighing, he met Brian's eyes, seeing the faint hint of green in the hazel depths. "I know I didn't have to but I needed to. Put it in the safety deposit box with your copy and the DPA."

"You sure?" You're still only twenty-one and barely that, Brian reminded himself. Even though at times he forgot that there was a decade gap between the two of them.

Justin nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. I made a copy for your files here."

"Our files," Brian lightly corrected. "You know there's a reason I cleared out that file cabinet for you. And I had a key made for you."

All this, Justin couldn't help thinking bitterly, and we still haven't had the moving in discussion. Or a discussion of where the hell we're going in this thing. He was slightly tired of not knowing where he and Brian stood even though they had a partnership that would be filed with the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. But dismissing the thoughts that flittered to the forefront of his mind every time he and Brian seemingly took a step forward, he blanked his expression.

"You okay?" Brian asked, seeing Justin's expression change from open to devoid. It was startling to see that change, he thought.

"Fine," Justin said, knowing that his lover didn't believe that for an instant.

"You eat?"

"Um no. But I think there's leftover Thai. I'll just heat that up."

Staring at his partner and not understanding entirely what the sudden mood change was all about, Brian simply said, "We can go to the diner. Get a greasy burger, fries, and a chocolate shake."

"I'm not Gus," Justin burst out, unclear of why he was suddenly so on edge. After all, this was what he had wanted. Right? Right?

"Whoa. What the fuck is wrong?" Brian asked, confused as to the volatility of Justin's response to a seemingly innocent question.

Pausing a moment, Justin looked down at his hands. Then he handed Brian the sketch pad and said, "You ever feel like the person you think you are is not the person you are at all? That you're just an artifice?"

Maybe going to Miranda was a good idea, Brian thought. Clearly they both needed to talk to someone. He wasn't sure how to answer the question. But then he said, "Yeah. When I turned thirty I felt that way."

Studying him for a second, Justin said, "Brian, did you really want to die? Were things really that awful?"

Christ, how the fuck did we get back to this? I knew that revealing that was going to end up badly, he thought. "I don't know, Justin," he said, semi-honestly. "I downplayed it in Miranda's office. I used a scarf and tied the knot loose enough that I knew that I'd be able to get down after I got off. But I don't know what would have happened if Michael hadn't walked in when he did."

"So you were ambivalent about dying?"

It was Brian's turn to focus his attention on his hands. "Yeah, I was ambivalent about dying. I just wanted to experience the best fucking orgasm of my life. I wasn't analyzing my motivations at the time."

"So were you just stoned on weed?"

"Hey," Brian said, suddenly understanding the dark turn the conversation had taken. "I hadn't done any coke that night or taken amyl nitrite. I was fairly cognizant of what was going on. I certainly had no intentions of kicking the stool over or anything like that." Then he asked, "Justin, if I'd died on the table in Baltimore, what would you have done?"

"I can handle you being sick. I could handle it if it were AIDS, Brian. I can forget that you felt it unnecessary to tell me such an important detail of your life but I wouldn't have forgiven you if you'd died on that table. How I could mean so fucking little to you after all we've been through together. It would have felt like Hobbs and my dad and Ethan meant nothing." He focused on Brian's face and then said, "I'd have gone on because I know you would want me to go on with my life. But I would have wanted to go into that black oblivion after you."

"Fuck," Brian said, burying his head in his hands. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you. I'm not worth it, Justin."

Moving closer to him, Justin said, voice soft, yet ringing in the silent loft. "I don't mean to make a Shakespeare moment out of it, Bri. I know we're nobody's interpretation of Romeo and Juliet but I love you. And I don't like my life without you in it."

"But you've got the Institute and Rage and your mom and sister."

"Don't you know by now that you're the most important thing in my world?"

"And that's fucked up even for us," Brian said, desolation in his eyes. "You ever think that maybe it would've been better if you'd gone to school out of state like in New York?"

Hurt by the implication, Justin said, "I didn't stay to be near you. Really, I didn't. I stayed because the Institute is a good school." Continuing, he said, "And when you were working on Stockwell's campaign weren't you still considering a move to New York? Still imagining yourself in an office on Madison Avenue?"

Since that was true, Brian could only nod, feeling miserable again. "Yeah."

"And what about me?"

"You know Michael told me to take you with me if I went to New York when I was working for that prick's campaign."

Justin shook his head slowly. He hadn't known that. "And your response?"

"I told him that no matter what happened I'd always love him."

Of course. Of course. And Brian wonders why Michael always, always, tries to fuck things up between us? It's because he extends the carrot to him like he's a fucking horse and Brian's the prize. And he can tell Michael he loves him but he can't tell me. It was no use pretending that the oversight didn't hurt because it did. Deep down inside it hurt Justin's soul that he knew Brian loved him and couldn't vocalize the words. At least not to him. God, we are fucked, he thought, disheartened. He was aware that something was changing in him, at least. He felt restless and knew that wasn't a good feeling or a safe feeling. The last time he'd felt this way he'd ended up walking out on Brian. But he knew Brian was trying his best and had the sobering thought that Brian's best simply wasn't good enough for him.

"Justin?" Brian's voice intruded into his mordant thoughts.

Reconciling his darker thoughts to the back of his mind, Justin returned his attention to the present. "Let's go to the diner."

Looking at his lover, Brian knew that things were off-balance once again. Fuck. What the hell did I do now? I'm trying, dammit. I'm trying to be a good partner. I've fucking changed my whole life for him. Threw my fucking rules out the window in an effort to please him. But he said none of that. It wasn't worth the fight and frankly he didn't want to see the blond walk out the door on him again. Because he knew that it would be the final time and Brian simply didn't want to face the reality of not having Justin. Had already experienced that and it was like living a nightmare.

Still he sat there silently until he could meet Justin's eyes without losing it and having another drama queen moment like the one he'd had at Kinnetik. "I need some air. Have the fucking Thai. I'll be back later."

"Brian?"

Grabbing his jacket, Brian simply strode to the loft door, without looking back at Justin, knowing that his partner's eyes followed his every movement. He didn't know that when the loft door slammed shut, Justin curled up in a ball on their bed, on his side of the bed, and began to cry, great gulping sobs that wracked his entire slender frame until he fell into an exhausted torpor.

Brian walked down to the street, unsure of his destination, but knowing he just needed to get away from Justin before they made things worse. It was not surprising when he ended up at the diner. He could see the familiar red wig from the street outside and hesitated a moment before walking inside. Debbie still wasn't speaking to him; he supposed she was still smarting from his ill-advised comments about Vic being lucky he'd gotten as much time as he had.

Taking a deep breath and feeling as though he were facing a Nazi death squad, Brian opened the door and took a seat at the counter. Deb didn't even look at him as he walked in though he knew she was fully aware of his presence. I mean, I'm Brian Kinney, he thought, how can she not know that I walked through the door? Hell, I'm the gay fucking Moses, he thought, realizing his thoughts were heretical to say the least. Throngs of people part like the Red fucking Sea when I walk through the door at Babylon. He was completely cognizant of his narcissism and arrogance but he was tired and hurt and this shit with Justin was going to slowly drive him mad. What the fuck did the kid want? And why do I give a shit?

Kiki, formerly Kenny, saw Brian and looked at Deb and then suddenly grasped the situation. The mother hen and one of her chicks were on the outs, she judged. And from the carefully calculated way Debbie was avoiding even looking Brian's direction, it was clear she was pissed as hell at him. So Kiki went over to him, and said, "Hey, Brian. What can I get for you?"

"Turkey sandwich---" Brian began and Kiki tentatively smiled at him.

"Wheat bread. No mayo. And a cup of black coffee, right?"

Brian nodded. Sometimes predictability was a blessing not a sign that one was boring and rigid in adhering to a routine. When his sandwich came out and Kiki wrapped it up for him in a brown bag, he saw Debbie struggle into an oversized coat that made her look like an Eskimo. Somehow he thought she'd be less than amused at the comparison. Debbie was rather sensitive about her weight and she'd continued working on it even after she and Horvath broke up. Brian wished that she'd find someone to make her happy. She deserved to not to have to live her life alone.

Debbie carefully avoided looking at Brian as she passed by him, so close she could smell the scent of his cologne. She let the diner door slam slightly and then Brian sent a grateful look in Kiki's direction, thankful for her discretion. Leaving the diner, Brian walked out and easily caught up to her, his longer strides matching her shorter ones.

Aware of his presence, Debbie still maintained her fierce demeanor, determined not to make the first move. Little asshole, she thought, still fuming. I love the kid but he still pisses the hell out of me.

Brian took a deep breath and said, "In case you didn't notice, I was in the diner."

Adopting a chilly tone that bore no resemblance to the one that Joan often adopted, Debbie nevertheless gave it the old college try as she said, "I noticed."

Okay, Brian thought, she's not going to make this easy for me. I'm going to have to eat crow here. "Walk you home?"

Hmph. Now he decides to do the chivalrous thing. I'm not some wounded bird although knowing him he'd probably just wring its neck to put it out of its misery, she thought, completely without compassion. "No, that's OK."

Christ, what the fuck do I have to do? I'm fucking sorry. "It's late." Well, Kinney, that's not the most brilliant observation you could have made. But it was accurate.

Biting back a smile because she was aware of what Brian was trying to do. Hell, she'd only known the man since he was fourteen. "I've been doin' it on my own for 20 years. I can take care of myself."

Brian studied the pavement as they continued to walk, aware that she was thawing. Trying to joke with her, he said, rubbing his jaw, "And you've got the right hook to prove it."

A fresh surge of guilt hit Debbie as she realized that she'd never hit Brian before. And that it had come out of left field when she'd hit him. A fresh reminder of hurts that he'd incurred in the past. She turned to look at him slightly. "You workin' late?"

Deciding not to clarify the situation or admit that he'd had a fight with Justin, Brian simply said, "Just gotta get the job done."

Needling him in the way only Debbie could do, she said, "Used to be the reason you'd stay up was because it was still up."

No sense debating what she meant. Brian was fully aware that she thought he lived his life through his dick and she wasn't wrong. "A lot of things used to be."

Debbie sensed the shift in Brian's tone of voice and gave him a considering look from beneath lowered lashes. Something's wrong, she realized. And the kiddo's running scared. But she was still smarting from the slight against Vic's memory and so she didn't bend as she said, "You're telling me."

Christ, Brian thought. What the hell do I have to do to make it up? Debbie's the only person who's ever been like a mom to me. She took care of me when Jack beat the shit out of me and didn't bat a false eyelash when I stumbled down to breakfast in the morning after crawling into Mikey's bedroom window. But he knew that his careless words about Vic had wounded her deeply. "I shouldn't have said what I did. About Vic."

Debbie stopped and turned to him. "You're damn straight you shouldn't have! Not that you were wrong. He was lucky he got those extra years. But it's the way you said it, just tossing it off like it didn't mean a thing! Like his whole fucking life didn't mean a thing!"

Brian took a deep breath. At the present, he realized just how much he valued life and considered himself fucking lucky that he wasn't felled by AIDS. When he looked at Hunter and saw that his childhood was effectively gone, Brian saw the life he could have led if things had turned out differently. If he hadn't gotten a soccer scholarship to Penn and gotten his degree to the immense displeasure of his old man, proving that Jack Kinney's son was better than his old man. But Brian had never lived his life by "ifs" and he wasn't going to start now. Not while he was still able to hold his head up high and know that he was still the reigning King of Liberty Avenue while his lover was the former King of Babylon. Still he hesitated before speaking. More than anyone Debbie's reaction could hurt him. She, like Justin, could wound him without even making an effort. "I can see your point," Brian bit the words out.

"Yeah," she questioned, "so why didn't you see it then?"

Taking another deep breath and steeling himself for the inevitability of impact, Brian said, "Maybe because I didn't know I had cancer then."

It was Debbie's turn to make a full stop as she turned to gape at him with shock and fear racing through her body. "What?" Oh, my God! My poor baby.

"You gonna make me say it twice?" he grumbled, not sure he could.

Debbie stared at him. "I just wanted to be sure that I heard---"

"You heard it."

Oh, holy mother Mary! "Shit! Are you -?"

Brian looked at her, his own expression softening in the cast given off by the streetlight. "All right? They think. But who the hell knows?"

Making a rapid shift to mother hen protecting her chicks, Debbie burst out, "Well, then what the fuck are you doing out here? You should be home, getting your rest, honey!"

Somehow Brian doubted that Justin would let him do that. He fully expected to bear the wrath of the blond upon his return. But he just couldn't stay there and deal with the emotional warfare. And besides every time he slept he kept having these fucking dreams. "I can't sleep," he admitted, hating the vulnerable note that crept into his voice. "I keep having these fucking dreams."

Allowing her concern to show on her face, Debbie said, "Well, force yourself. And make sure you eat. You hear me? You gotta keep your strength up."

Fighting back a smile of his own because even Brian Kinney appreciated being mothered at times, he said, "Yes, mother."

Debbie took a step towards him, reaching for the flaps of his coat and began to button it for him. Then she looked up at him, deciding to broach a subject that she never liked discussing with Brian. That of his own mother. "Does she know?"

Brian shook his head. "So far, just Michael and Justin. And," he paused for dramatic effect, "Theodore."

Agape and disgruntled by the fact that no one had found it necessary to tell her such a big detail of Brian's life, she said, irritated, "And nobody told me?"

Carefully controlling his voice and evening it out, Brian said, with as much quiet as he could muster, "I'm telling you."

Not even Debbie Novotny could miss the gravity of the statement as it passed Brian's lips. Oh, she thought. Poor baby. "How come?"

Flashing a Kinney smirk in her direction, still brilliant but dimmed somewhat in its wattage, he said,"So that you'll forgive me and take pity on me."

Debbie went up on her tiptoes so she could stare deep into his eyes and study his face. Even she could see the lines under Brian's eyes and the shadows cast by sleepless nights. "Son of a bitch," she muttered. But she reached to give him a hug and said, "You gonna be OK, you hear me?"

Brian nodded, grateful for the assertion that he wasn't going to die because of this fucking disease. He simply let Debbie hug him and found himself hugging her right back.

Later that night, Brian let himself into a darkened loft. He sat at the counter and quietly ate his turkey sandwich noticing that there was no disturbance in the kitchen. He figured Justin had either lost his appetite or been very neat. He figured it was the former because in this little relationship he was the one who was anal retentive.

He undressed, letting his clothes fall where they may, and stood for long moments, looking down at the blond sleeping on his side of the bed. He noticed how Justin cuddled his pillow as if it were a lover. God, he thought, when did this become so fucking important to me? When did the loft became a home? He knew the answer: the night he let a seventeen-year-old twink spend the night and worm his way into his heart. Slipping into bed beside Justin, Brian let him stay where he was, content for the moment to sleep in Justin's shadow.

The next day, Justin found himself in the Red Cape. He and Michael had negotiated a tentative truce contingent on Michael's agreement to keep his nose out of his relationship with Brian. But Justin found to his horror that he actually considered asking Michael for help. The no sex thing was driving both him and Brian crazy and neither of them had mentioned their fight the previous night.

Letting some of his fears creep through, Justin found himself agreeing with skepticism to Michael's suggestion that they visit Ben's herbalist in Pittsburgh's Chinatown. Emerging from the shop with a bag of herbs, Justin had no idea that he and Michael had both been accurately pinned down as being bottoms in their respective relationships.

While Justin was busy trying to find a miracle cure for Brian, Brian slipped out of Kinnetik, telling Cynthia he had to take care of a personal errand. His assistant simply raised her eyebrows but didn't ask any questions. She'd learned that it was wiser not to question her hot-tempered boss.

Not sure of where he was going but knowing he had to do something, Brian found himself at his familiar haunt: the steam room at the gym. He wrapped a towel low around his waist and entered the steam room, judging the prospects. Not too bad, he thought. A few caught his eye but nothing spectacular. Christ, have I become so discriminating? He thought. Then, he noticed a potential trick aggressively and obviously cruising him. Stroking himself through the towel, Brian tested the waters. He'd finally decided that Justin's suggestion bore investigation. But he really wasn't into it and, quite frankly, not much was happening. The trick crept up behind him, resting hands on his shoulders, then began to move them downwards, while Brian kept a wary eye on his equipment. Finally deciding it wasn't worth risking humiliation, Brian pulled away and left for the locker room, pained disgust clear as red paint on his face.

A few days later, Brian and Justin found themselves alone at the loft. Brian reclined on the futon mattress as Justin stood at the stove, stirring something. Wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant and unfamiliar scents wafting through the loft, Brian couldn't help wondering what was up. And, unfortunately, it wasn't that.

Finally finishing his Dr. Lao moment, Justin brought Brian a steaming mug, saying, "Here. Drink this."

Looking up at him with wide eyes, Brian snarked, "Smells like yak shit."

Justin couldn't help but laugh. He'd seen all manners of things in the herbalist shop that didn't bear further investigation; too fucking scary. "Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if that was in it, too." Then, smiling, he said, "It's a magic potion from a Chinese herbalist."

Growing reluctant but not wishing to turn down Justin after all he'd done for him, Brian took the mug, and looked at him, saying, "Will it make me small?"

God, I feel like Alice in fucking Wonderland, Brian thought. Justin gave him a brilliant smile and said, "I'm hoping it will make you large. Very, very large."

Grasping the mug with two hands and feeling as though he'd rather throw the vile smelling concoction down the drain, Brian nevertheless drank it like a dutiful little boy. Swallowing and thinking he'd never tasted anything quite so awful, he said, "That is disgusting."

"Who cares," Justin said, meeting his eyes, "as long as it works."

Since Brian put no more store in the ancient practices of Chinese medicine, despite the wonders worked by acupuncturists, than he did in astrology, he remained skeptical, saying nothing. But then he looked into Justin's eye and saw the trust and love shining from the blue eyes and realized that he couldn't really deny his blond much of anything.

He leaned forward and Justin met his lips with his own as they gently kissed. Breaking away, Justin said, "Do you feel anything?"

Brian strove not to feel offended since he knew Justin loved him for more than his dick but they were both being pressed to their breaking point. Struggling for a non-hostile remark, he said, "IF you're expecting my glasses to steam up, I hate to disappoint you."

Justin glanced at him. Oops, he thought. Then he settled for an attempt at humor, "It's supposed to rekindle the fire in your life gate."

Finding the idea of that wholly ludicrous and not worth debating, Brian said, "My life gate?" What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Smiling, Justin said, "I know it sounds ludicrous." Unwittingly he'd echoed Brian's thoughts. Strange how he was able to do that more and more often now. "But if it works for you, who gives a shit?"

Brian turned away and took a few steps in the other direction, facing away from him, hiding the hurt and pain he felt. "Yeah, well, maybe it can stop me thinking about what's no longer there. And that in its place is this piece of plastic. Or from picturing them sucking a bloody, disease-ridden ball out of me. Or from feeling so shitty from having them burn me to a crisp from their raygun that all I want to do is dig a hole and crawl in - only I'm too busy vomiting. Who knows? Maybe then I might even be able to get it up." Brian hated exposing his fears so openly to Justin but then he felt the comforting pressure of Justin's hands on his shoulders as he began to rub his shoulders.

Resting his chin on his shoulder, Justin said, quietly, "There's gotta be something."

Trying vainly at humor and knowing he fell far short of his goal, Brian said, "Well, whatever it is, it's not a cup of Lipton's."

At that Justin found he had no response that seemed even remotely adequate. So he found himself leading Brian up to the bedroom, undressing him, and lying down next to him. It wasn't entirely a surprise when Justin found himself drawn nearer to him, so that he was resting in the crook of Brian's arm.

Looking at Brian, he said, quietly, "It's going to be okay, Brian."

Left unsaid was we're going to be okay. Brian simply stayed silent as he closed his eyes, letting the stability of Justin's breathing coax him into a sleep, that was for once without dreams. Sometimes it was better to put one's hope in a higher power than to try to manipulate the outcome.

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