Mechanical Michaelangelo - Ch 11-20
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Title: Mechanical Michelangelo - Ch 11-20
Author: Mohawk
Rating: Adults Only
Disclaimer: Queer as Folk belong to Russel T Davies, Cowlip, etc, I don't own anything.
Feedback: Is adored
Spoilers: Slight season 1
Summary: What if Brian didn't find Justin when he ran away to New York in season 1? How would Justin cope on his own, in a strange city? Could his art be his only salvation? The title was inspired by Sarah Hall's The Electric Michelangelo

Go back to Ch 1-10

Chapter 11

Justin knew he was there without even turning around. Practically every nerve ending was screaming it out to him. He wanted so badly to turn around, but he refused, he wouldn’t make a big deal of it. He could see Brian walk towards them in the reflection of the glass, stooped low and holding Gus’ hand. Justin’s heart jumped into his mouth.

“Mommy!” Gus screamed when he spotted Lindsey, letting go of Brian’s hand he ran over to her and she leaned down, picking him up and giving him a huge hug. Justin had the feeling he’d been well and truly set up. All pretence of conversation was over as Brian made his way over.

“Lindsey,” Brian said by way of greeting. “Now I understand why you wanted me to bring him over here instead of dropping him off home.” Brian’s gaze landed onto Justin, it looked like Brian knew this had been a set up too.

Lindsey shifted Gus on her him and couldn’t hide a slightly guilty look. “I, we...Mel!” She nodded towards the door when she spotted her partner.

“Hey, Justin,” Mel said, as she came over, not exactly sure of her welcome she settled on giving him a warm smile.

He forced himself to smile back, knowing that if Brian hadn’t been there he would have leaned over and kissed the lawyer’s cheek, at least.

“We’re going out straight from here, no time to go home first. Must dash. Bye sweetie,” Lindsey blurted out in a rush, pulling Mel along with her free hand she left them alone.

They stood in silence for a while, Justin made a pretence of studying the painting opposite them, pretending to get lost in the swirls of colour and the strong brushwork. He couldn’t see a thing though, he was too aware of Brian standing inches away.

“I thought you’d be back in New York already.” Brian stepped closer to the painting, touching the frame briefly.

“Stayed on to do a little business.” He knew as soon as he uttered the word business that the older man wouldn’t take him seriously.

“Business?” Brian turned towards him and Justin glared, his piercing blue eyes flashing with annoyance.

“Business,” he confirmed, “I’m not that seventeen-year-old twink any more, I work full-time, just like you.”

“Of course you do,” he said, tongue in cheek. He was just about to say something else when someone pushed past him and took hold of Justin’s hand, shaking it vigorously.

“Justin, It’s Denton, great to put a face to the voice.” Denton was a tall, muscular built man, his skin covered in a battle of cruel looking goblins in the middle of battle.

“Den, I didn’t realise you were going to be here.”

“Yeah, I’m on holiday, thought I’d pop by.”

“You can’t stop working even while on holiday?” Justin laughed and pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

“Can’t miss an opportunity, now can I? How about you? What brings you to the Pitts?”

“Holiday.”

Denton laughed and clapped Justin on the back. “ I really have to dash off, Bruce is going to show me his equipment.” He had a glint in his eye. “But you have to come to my studio on California, we need to swap techniques.”

“I’m booked solid for the next three months, but we’ll work something out after that. I’ll call you.”

“See you around, man,” Denton went off in search of Bruce, and Justin was again, alone with Brian.

“If I hadn’t known you were talking about tattooing,” Brian said, with just a hint of suggestion in his voice.

“I may not be an ad exec, or work in a fancy office. I may not have finished school and I may never go to college, but I am successful. People want me to train them, they want to learn my techniques, so I’m not Brian Kinney. I’m something different, unique, better. I’m Justin Taylor.”

“My my, haven’t we gotten full of ourselves.”

Justin smiled with satisfaction. “With good reason.”

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Hell yeah.”


***

Brian slid open the door to his loft and Justin stepped over the threshold, unzipping his jacket and flinging it across the floor to land on the pristine white sofa. He unbuttoned his jeans, sliding the denim down his hips.

The older man stood quietly, watching the show. Justin stepped out of his pants and smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “Well? Surely you didn’t bring me here to talk?” He goaded.

Brian took two steps towards him, and crushed his chest against Justin’s, his well-tailored clothes crumpling between them and snagging on the zips scattered over Justin’s t-shirt.

Justin watched Brian’s lips descend on his, just the thought of those lips on his sent blood rushing south.

Their lips clashed, teeth scraping delicate skin, Justin felt a hand in his hair, tangling and crushing his skull closer. He stood up on tiptoes, pushing his body even closer to Brian’s and plunging his tongue into Brian’s mouth.

He tasted so familiar, yet so different. Justin couldn’t put his finger on it, and he didn’t care enough to ponder. He lost himself in their kiss, finesse forgotten as they tasted one another, open mouthed, wet and fast.

Brian ran his hands down Justin’s back, feeling his spine, and cupping his cotton covered butt in his palms, pushing their groins closer together, until Justin could feel Brian’s erection.

Delicate, well trained fingers unzipped Brian’s fly effortlessly, pushing them off his hips enough to get his hand inside. He felt warm velvet against his fingertips and ran them gently from head to base.

Brian groaned into Justin’s mouth, making his own cock pulse with need. Teasingly, he ran the tips of his fingers around the head of Brian’s cock, relearning the feel of it until he grasped the length in his palm, warmed leather sending Brian into sensation overload.

Brian stepped back, letting Justin’s hand slip from his crotch and spun him around. Justin braced himself against the wall, feeling Brian’s hands roughly pull his boxers down enough to gain access.

He heard the tear of foil and braced himself, it had been so long since he’d had sex, a pleasurable fuck with someone he knew he could love if he let himself.

A finger trailed down over the smooth globes of his ass, the urgency from before abated as it found his centre, spreading lube around his hole before sliding in.

Justin groaned and let his head fall forward to lean against the cool brick. His blond hair fell around him, creating a waterfall of shimmering gold in which he could lose himself.

Large hands gripped his hips, fingers digging into the flesh just underneath his t-shirt. Thumbs parted his ass and he felt the probe of cock. Scorching hot as it sunk into him.

The burn fed every nerve ending as Brian worked himself inside, rotating his hips and pushing himself in to the hilt. He stopped as his chest was flush against Justin’s back, gasps of hot air blowing strands of golden hair against the brick.

Justin closed his eyes and revelled in the feel of Brian inside him. His cock strained towards the wall and he jumped backwards, impaling himself even further onto Brian as he felt fingers snake around one sharp hip and grasp his hard length.

It had been so long since he’d felt anyone do that.

He forced his hips backwards as Brian plunged back inside him and jerked him off erratically, rhythm forgotten as pleasure over took everything else. It wasn’t beautiful, it was harsh, angry, punishing and it was the most real fuck he’d had since the last time Brian had been inside him.
 

Chapter 12

With a slight turn of the hip Brian’s softening cock slipped out of Justin, leaving the younger man feeling somewhat empty and alone, even as Brian slumped over his back, hands gripping the front of his t-shirt as his breathing returned to normal.

Justin closed his eyes and committed the feel of Brian’s weight pressed against him to memory. He never wanted to forget what it was like to be with Brian again, he wanted to remember the shape of his cock and how it fitted deep inside him perfectly. He wanted to remember the taste of his skin, the feel of his teeth against his tongue, because he knew he couldn’t keep doing this.

There was no way he could turn the clock back, and just been around Brian reminded him of all the what ifs. He slipped out from under Brian’s arm and walked calmly to his jeans, pulling them up over his lean legs and fastening them with accuracy. He would not rush out of here like a fool.

Confusion flitted over Brian’s face before he realised he was Brian Kinney and he wasn’t supposed to give a fuck. He followed Justin’s lead, pulling on his pants in record time, and waited, fingers through belt loops, as if he was impatient for Justin to leave.

Justin fished into his pocket for a hair tie. He scraped his tangled locks back hastily and tied it tightly, he couldn’t stand the strands around his face right now. He had to get out of the loft, away before it was too hard to leave and he broke down, and revealed too much, becoming the weak little fag he swore he’d never be again.

“Maybe I’ll see you the next time I’m in town.” Justin said, pleased with his even voice. He zipped up his jacket and walked over to the door, hand lingering on the handle.

“On business.” Brian didn’t move, he stood in the middle of the loft, blue denim hugging his thighs, fly open, showing a small swirl of hair.

“Yeah, if I’m on Business.” He slid open the door. “I’m glad we talked.”

“You call that talking?”

“It’s the only kind of talking I ever got out of you, Brian, maybe that was the problem. Later.”

Would things have been different if they’d talked more? Probably not, Justin admitted to himself. After all, what does a gay teenager and a gay twenty nine year old man have in common apart from sex?

He waited for the elevator, knowing the small factor wouldn’t be missed by Brian. Justin had always been too impatient to wait for the elevator when he’d lived there, it was just one other small way he had changed.


Justin walked towards the GLC, realising he’d left his mother and Molly there without a word. The people had thinned out when he returned, just the die hard tattoo enthusiasts and the staff left.

Jen stood waiting in the lobby, with a face like thunder. She strode over to him when she spotted him, brushing past him and pushing open the door. Molly shrugged her shoulders and gave him a sympathetic look before following quickly. The last thing she wanted was to be in her mother’s bad books, also.

Justin followed them to Jen’s car, he hesitated getting in. “ Get in the car, Justin.” She said as she started the engine.

Justin sighed, feeling like a kid again. The journey was met with silence, she didn’t even bother to put the radio on and Justin refused to do something that would only make her angrier.

Molly made a clean break for it as soon as Jen stopped the car, disappearing into her room and shutting the door on them. Justin lagged behind his mother as she walked into the kitchen and started to slam cupboards in an attempt to make herself a cup of tea.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, he leaned his elbows on the shiny surface and waited for the words to tumble from his mother’s mouth. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I don’t believe you, Justin. You left us there.” She poured water into the kettle, turning the tap too far, spraying herself in the process. “He comes striding into the gallery, don’t think I didn’t see, and you go off with him, no protest.”

“So, are you mad I left you and Molly alone, or was it because I went with Brian?”

“You’re back for less than a week and you’re already in his clutches.”

Justin sighed angrily, leaning back in his chair. “We talked.” And he wasn’t entirely lying. It’s what he told Brian they were doing. The fact they talked without words, and with Brian’s dick up his ass, had little relevance on the matter, and his mother didn’t need to know all the details.

“I thought you said all you had to say at Deb’s? All I asked for was this week, with you back where you belong and you’ve spent most of it working. Or that’s what you said you were doing, for all I know you were sneaking out with Brian.”

Justin shot up in his chair, seething. “First of all, If I was with Brian, I wouldn’t have to sneak about to do it, I’m a fully-grown man. And secondly, most importantly, I have a career, If I ever want to get anywhere I can’t miss opportunities.”

“You’re still a kid when it comes to that man.” Jen shook her head.

“You’ve got it wrong, mom. I’m still a kid when it comes to you. You can’t stop picturing me as that rebellious seventeen-year-old. I’m twenty years old, I love you, but you don’t have a say in my life any more.” He paused, taking a deep breath and trying to curb the anger that never really went away when he was around his mother. “Look, I’m going out.” He turned back towards the door, no destination in mind, he just had to get out of his mother’s condo and away from them.

“With Brian?” It was as if his mother just couldn’t help herself, she had no common sense when it came to him.

“If I was, I don’t need to ask your permission.”


***

Babylon was a heaving mass of sweat slicked skin, the pounding music and rotating groins helped the tension flow from Justin’s body. He ordered a shot, tipped his head back and swallowed the liquid in one go, enjoying the burn as it found its way to his stomach.

It took three more shots before the scene with his mother gave him the chuckles. He let the music wash over him as he made his way to the dance floor. With liquid grace he moved his hips, denim running low on his hips, giving a tantalising view of inked skin.

It didn’t take long for willing flesh to press up against his, wandering hands going where Brian’s hadn’t, under his t-shirt and over his chest. He could barely feel Brian inside him anymore, there had been a time when he could feel the other man inside him no matter where he was or who had their dick in his ass. But as the saying goes, memories fade with time, and dicks all tend to feel the same after a while.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of strange flesh pressed against his, sweet smelling flesh that pulsed in time to the music, he felt himself growing hard. He was going back to New York in the morning and he couldn’t wait. It made him feel young and carefree.

At times he hated his mother almost as much as he loved her. Pittsburgh wasn’t his home anymore, and he was going to dance away the hours until he was gone.

It took him a while to realise the hands and groins had disappeared, he opened his eyes, getting blinded by the coloured spotlights at first, then looked up into hazel eyes, deep set into a strong, handsome face.

His heart jumped a beat and he stumbled, giving Brian the perfect excuse to pull him closer, push the younger man’s arms up over his shoulders and grind his hips to the rhythm.

His head lowered to Justin’s, lips brushing against lips, barely at first, before deepening, slowly drinking him in. Brian’s hands tangled in Justin’s hair, still tied back after their earlier tussle at the loft. He pulled the tie out, brushing the lugs free with his fingers until this hair was a golden halo falling around his shoulders.

They stopped dancing, and just swayed instead, wanting to get as close to each other as they could get. Conflicting emotions raced through Justin, he didn’t have a clue why he was doing this.

It would be so much harder to leave after tonight. Harder than it would have been after the sex, because this was more than physical, it was Brian claiming him in front of all the other men who had wanted so much to venture into the back room with the young, tattooed blond.

Tears burned the back of his eyes, tears he hadn’t shed since the night he’d spoken to his father. Justin blinked, battling with the dampness. He would not chose this moment to cry, he would not show Brian how much their dance was affecting him.

The song finished, merging into another, Dancing Queen, getting all the queers worked up into a frenzy, like no other song could. Justin and Brian stayed where they were, swaying, and kissing each other slowly, deeply. Men bumped into them, jostling them over the dance floor, but wandering hands kept to themselves. No one messed with what Brian Kinney wanted, and maybe, just maybe, a few of the old time regulars remembered the fresh faced blond boy that captured Brian’s attention so long ago.

“You heading off in the morning?” Brian shouted over the music, lips touching Justin’s ear. Justin nodded, gloved hands cupping the back of Brian’s neck.

Why did the older man stiff affect him this way? Surely he should be over it by now. He’d been with hundreds of men, some hotter than Brian, but none of them made him feel like he did, pressed against Brian.

“You should probably have an early night.” Brian rolled his lips inwards, against his teeth and Justin leaned back so he could look up into his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He pulled out of the other man’s arms, wondering if it was just his imagination or if he really did have trouble pulling away.

“Later.”

“Later.” Justin walked off the dance floor, ignoring Mikey as he ran over to Brian, wanting to know just what the fuck was going on between them. Justin wished he knew that.

“What the hell is going on?” Mikey shouted over the music, Justin barely heard Brian’s answer.

“We were just talking, Mikey.”

Chapter 13

Justin practically sleepwalked into the shower. He was dead on his feet and wanted nothing better than to slip between the warm, clean, sheets on his own bed. He definitely needed a shower first though, he hated travelling for so long, his clothes were sticking to him and he felt grimy.

He stepped into the small, tiled cubicle and pulled the shower curtain across, twisting the nozzles to medium temperature and letting the warm water beat down over his naked body.

He let the week and a half’s dirt flow down the plughole, the water of home, cleansing his skin. He used Cam’s shower gel, forgetting to unpack his own, and wasn’t nearly as surprised as he should have been when the curtain whipped sideways and Cameron, as naked as he was, stepped in beside him.

It was a tight squeeze, but they’d perfected the art of standing face to face, both of them getting the full force of the spray.

“You OK?” Cam asked, taking the gel from him and lathering his hands.

“Yeah, I promise.” Justin tipped his head back and smoothed back his hair.

“I’ll believe it when I feel it.” Cameron was serious, his face half-afraid, as if he didn’t quite trust Justin, and really, he had no reason to.

“Your brilliant distraction did the trick, I forgot all about it while I bitched to Bren.”

“Still...”

Justin rolled his eyes, and opened his arms out as far as the cubicle would let him. “Just check then, if it’ll put your mind at rest.”

“It will.” Strong hands traced Justin’s body, fingertips running over tattoos, looking for any new lesions or scabs.

The conversation had scared Cameron, usually, when Justin got in one of his moods, he was close enough to go put a stop to it. He’d never tried to help him over the phone before, and he wasn’t quite sure it had worked. He’d learned the hard way not to take Justin’s word for it.

He smoothed his hands all over Justin, spreading the soap as he went, happy that all he was feeling was the slight rise of ink and the natural curves and dips of Justin’s body.

His touch was detached, and it turned neither of them on. They hadn’t gotten a rise out of each other since almost the beginning of their friendship, it was probably the reason why they had remained such good friends.

Justin closed his eyes, letting the gentle rubbing lull him to sleep, he’d perfected the art of sleeping whilst standing, years ago, and Cameron’s hands felt good, safe, concerned.

“Hands.” A voice brought him out of his trance like state and he opened one eye.

“What?”

“Give me your hands.” Cameron spoke as if he were talking to a naughty child.

Too tired to argue, he offered Cam his hands, palms up and gave him a smug smile as his friend touched the palm, then each finger individually. “See? No setbacks.”

“Good, had to be sure, now rub my back.” Cameron turned around, and it was back to their familiar bantering and closeness only two friends could have.

They finished their shower quickly, and Justin dried himself before rubbing his hair with a towel and letting Cam steer him to his room and into his bed. He was just too tired to dry his hair...


***

The studio was like a second home, and he could see Bren working in his office through the crack of the door as he let himself in. “You still working?” He called out.

Bren looked up and grinned. “I only just started. I’m working on a sleeve piece, look.” He nodded at his paper and Justin looked over his shoulder.

“Brilliant, as usual.” He sat down opposite, leaning back in his chair.

“How was the convention? And the GLC gallery?”

Justin fished into his pocket and pulled out a heap of business cards, each multicoloured in design and many showing some kind of skull. “Studios that want talk to us, and maybe do a swap. I spoke to Denton from California.”

“Excellent. The Art Fusion was a success, I gather?.”

“Yeah, a friend told me someone bought all four canvases.”

“Some people just have too much money to spend.” Bren smirked and rolled up his drawing, ready to start preparing for the days clients.

“You can tell me all about it at dinner tonight. And I’m not just talking about the convention.” He raised a pierced eyebrow.

“I take it Cam has spoken to you?”

“Of course, he was worried. It seems you bumped into a lot of old friends.”

Justin snorted and opened up the appointment book, looking at the details for his first customer. “More than bumped into them I'd say.” He thought about Brian, how they had practically ripped each other’s clothes off, how they’d danced and kissed. Yes, definitely more than bumped.

“What’s this?” Justin asked, flipping the appointment book a few months, he seemed to have four days off in a row, that never happened, in all the time he’d worked there.

Bren glanced over. “Daphne phoned and threatened castration if I didn’t give you the time off.”

Justin rolled his eyes, typical Daphne to go right to Bren if she wanted Justin to have time off. “And I don’t suppose my so-called best friend told you exactly what we’re doing in those four days?”

“How the hell should I know? She’s your best friend.”

“Sneaky, and underhand, I might revoke her title. So, are we heading for the Inked Serpent after dinner?” Justin called as he set up his work surface.

“Sure are, the place isn’t the same without you.” Justin chuckled happily as his first customer walked through the door. “Hey Steven.”

***

The Inked Serpent was for loners, for people to get lost in the crowd, and where the crowd left you to it. No questions were asked, and most of the people there had a history as fucked up as your own.

Brands, tattoos, piercings, adorned the body like art, the less clothes the better, and it wasn’t just to get laid. This was the place people came to admire each other, where skin mutilation was classed as art and it was showed like art. A catwalk of ordinary people, special for the few hours a week they’re in the Inked Serpent.

People stared openly, admired skin before butts, and Justin admitted he still got a kick out of seeing someone parading around, showing off a tattoo he had designed and inked.

He sat perched on the edge of a stool, Bren and Cameron sitting next to him, in easy silence. The music was too loud for proper conversation. Justin felt relaxed, the harsh music pumping over his body, the glint of metal piercing skin, comforting. It was definitely good to be home.

It was scary how easily New York had become home, even after the shit he’d gone through to begin with, it was still a place where he was successful, where he’d made friends and fitted in with other people who had no place to fit in.

A local band played their own rendition of an old Iron Maiden song, Justin watched the singer, his hair in his eyes and mouth touching the microphone, bare arms showing tattoos Justin was very familiar with.

He remembered licking the bare flesh, almost as much as tattooing it, he grinned at the memory, getting up off his chair and spinning to face his friends.

“Mosh pit?” Bren shook his head, but Cam allowed himself to be dragged into the fray, letting Justin elbow his way into the middle of what, in this club, passed for dancing.

Music vibrated from the amps, and the singer strutted about on stage, Justin jumped high, holding onto Cameron’s shoulders to get the extra lift. He never thought his artistic temperament would enjoy this sort of music, or this sort of life, but he never felt more alive than when he was here, the harsh beat of drums pounding his ear drums and seeing men wear their tattoos as clothes.

He was in his element here, and it wasn’t about sex, or money, it was about friendship, and family He had in Bren and Cameron what Brian had in Lindsey and Michael, only so much better because neither of them wanted to fuck him.

Chapter 14

Year one and he worried. He masked that worry behind nonchalance, until everyone believed he didn’t care. The way he liked it. One month turned into two and people started to feel less guilty about not remembering him every minute, every hour, every day. Year two and he made contact, although not with him. End of year two the memories faded and no one had to feel guilty anymore.

He took a drag on his cigarette before moaning, leaning his head back against the wall, thrusting his hips forward into a willing mouth.

Year three and he’s back, like the whirlwind that entered in the first place, leaving his mark. The lost boy returns, bringing with it feelings Brian had buried when he failed to find Justin in New York, in year one.

He was mad, anger pushed his blood through his veins and kept his hard on hard.

Justin was still hot, even with the tattoos, though Brian mourned the pale skin. He didn’t pay close attention to them while they’d fucked, the tattoos showed how he’d changed, like a map of his life and Brian didn’t want to read it.

His balls tightened and he came, pushing the trick away he did up his zipper and made his way, unsteadily back to the bar, where his friends stood drinking.

“His lordship graces us with his presence,” Ted said, chuckling and a little envious. Brian smiled sarcastically and draped his arms around Mikey.

“His lordship wants to dance.” He dragged Mikey to the dance floor, and ignored the feeling that told him something wasn’t quite right. His body didn’t fit against Michael’s, and his cock was soft.

Why he wanted Justin so much was a mystery to him. Justin wasn’t his type, not then, and especially not now. He was small, lean, with no pecs to admire, one would even call him feminine looking, until they saw the size of his cock.

Different. It must be the reason why he wanted Justin so much. Breaking in a fresh, young, twink had its advantages, advantages he never got to take full advantage of when Justin ran off. And while he may not be able to get those advantages back, there was definitely something about the new Justin.

He pulled Mikey closer, kissing his forehead, swaying in time to the music. Mikey grinned and gave him a brief hug.

All the thinking was hurting his head, and if he was thinking this intensely it meant he wasn’t drunk enough. Breaking their dance he stalked to the bar, shouting his order and downing the shot.

***

The diner was glaringly bright in the harsh light of a bitter morning. Brian pushed his shades up his nose, hiding the purple smudges under his eyes and protecting his eyes from the glare of the rainbow coloured diner.

He glided into the booth, ordered his coffee and watched as Mikey shoved pancakes down his throat. Brian’s stomach heaved at the sight.

“Coffee, Deb,” he shouted again without looking her way.

“I need something to soak the alcohol up with,” Mikey groaned, and Brian realised that his best friend looked shit. Which made him look instantly better. He took his sunglasses off.

“Some people just can’t take their alcohol like a pro.”

“It was a good night, we should do it more often.” Mikey covered his pancakes in more syrup.

“And what would the professor say about that? Deb, coffee!”

“I only have one pair of hands, you asshole.” She popped her gum for effect and slammed a cup down in front of him.

“Ben’s fine with it, we don’t go out half enough any more, it was fun, last night.”

Last night, without Justin. Brian heard the silent words and refused to listen to them. “That’s what having a husband and teenage son to support does to you. We can’t all be young, free and single.”

“Hardly young anymore, Brian.”

He chose to ignore that comment too.

“I’m glad he’s gone back.” The comment came out of the blue, angering Brian. He hated it when Mikey came out with something from nothing. They weren’t fourteen anymore. “Justin, I mean. I can’t tell you how much of a shock it was when I saw him at the tattoo convention.”

“Oh?”

“I couldn’t believe he’d have the cheek to show his face around here after what he did.”

“His family does still live here, Mikey.”

“Still, he could have got in touch with you, said sorry.”

“It’s been three years, maybe he thought it didn’t matter any more.”

“Well, it does.”

Brian gulped down his coffee, hot liquid burning his tongue, but he didn’t care, the urge to leave was too strong. “Not to me it doesn’t.” He pulled out a few notes, threw them on the table and left Mikey to his pancakes.

He got into his corvette and drive to his offices, feeling a sense of pride at seeing ‘Kinnetik’ above the door. Ted and Cynthia were already there when he arrived.

He waltzed into his office, throwing his jacket over the coach in the corner and turned on his computer, grinning inwardly as Ted came shuffling in, papers in hand.

Being the boss was fucking great.

Chapter 15

Gus couldn’t draw for shit. According to Lindsey, Brian didn’t have an artistic bone in his body and he couldn’t tell the difference between art and scribbles. She obviously could, and the next piece of paper Gus destroyed was stuck to the fridge, in pride of place.

Brian held a green crayon, and coloured the grass in on Gus’ picture as the little boy instructed.

“Have you heard from him?” Brian looked up and hiked Gus further onto his lap, holding him still with one hand.

“Grass!” The little boy demanded when Brian’s crayon stilled. He started colouring again, taking his time to answer, knowing it drove Lindsey insane.

“Who?” It was one worded answers like that which drove her over the edge.

“Brian! You know who, Justin.” She placed dirty dishes into the dishwasher and turned around to glare at her friend. “He phones us every week.” She pressed. “Or we phone him.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“You could phone him you know.” She sat at the table opposite them, staring at him, as if trying to will him to get on the phone to Sunshine.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you care.”

“Who says?” He became neater with the grass, giving it more attention, refusing to look at the mother of his child.

“I heard about your dance at Babylon.”

“A dance for old times sake, now shut the fu-hell up.”

“A dance for old times sake, with the guy who you fu-,” she glanced at Gus, “had, more than once.” She smiled smugly, as if she knew something he didn’t. Lesbians.

“Stop.” Gus demanded, taking the crayon out of Brian’s fingers. “Finished now.” He smiled proudly at his mother, and handed her the piece of paper they had both decimated. Maybe Gus got his artistic talent from him.

“That’s brilliant, sweetie.” She made a big show of putting it on the fridge.

“You could at least call and see how he is.”

Gus wriggled off his lap and went in search of toys. “I know he’s fine. If he wasn’t, you’d tell me.”

“We’re thinking of visiting soon. He said me and my family are welcome whenever we like. He’s going to show us a whole new side to New York, a side you don’t see in the tourist guides.”

Brian smirked, and pushed his tongue into his cheek. “I bet.” He stood up and went into the living room. “I didn’t come here for this shit.”

Lindsey was sure he would storm out, like he usually did when they had words.

“I came to see Sonny Boy. You want a game of football with your old man?”

“Yeah, football, football.” He raced over to his toy chest, throwing toys out and over the floor as he looked for the ball his dad had given him. He pulled it out proudly and they made their way into the yard, for a bit of father and son bonding.

Lindsey watched from the window, her heart happy as she watched them play, the mask Brian usually wore in front of his friends, gone, as he played with his son.

This was a side of him she wished Melanie could see, but he never showed it when she was around. The true father and son bonding was rare, and Linz couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.

Feeling inspired she rushed to find their camera, and snapped a few photos from the window, a new painting conjured in her mind.

Gus kicked the ball at Brian, and he lunged for it, missing it purposely, so it would go in the mini goals set up in the garden. Gus jumped into the air in victory before jumping on Brian’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Brian swooped him into his arms and put him on his shoulders. They were both a mess, covered in grass stains, and for once Brian didn’t complain about his clothes.

“I think we both need a shower, mom.” He settled Gus onto the floor, holding onto his arm before he went running inside.

“Take your shoes off here, I don’t want mud traipsing through my house.” In an alternative universe this could have been their life. Lindsey pointed upstairs. “You know where the shower is.” Brian headed on up. “And don’t forget to take your son.” He turned around, rolled his eyes at her and picked Gus up. “Come on Sonny Boy, let’s get cleaned up.”



***

Owning his own business meant he worked a lot out of office hours. He tapped away at his computer, working on an account, comfortable in nothing more than sweats and an old t-shirt.

He swore when he heard banging on his door. He’d told Mikey he wouldn’t be going out that night. He strode to the door, intent on sending him merrily on his way, only to find the teenage, ex-hustler standing there.

This was a twisted kind of deja vu he could do without. Hunter was definitely the wrong teenager standing at his door. “Go home, Hunter.”

Hunter leaned against the doorway, with cocky youthfulness that all hustlers seemed to master. “Can’t I come in? I’m bored.” He pushed his way in, purposely brushing Brian’s shoulder and threw himself onto the sofa in a way only teenagers could.

“Got anything to eat?”

“No. I’m calling Mikey to come get you.”

“Fuck, Brian, when did you get to be such a stick in the mud.” He pouted, kicking off his shoes and tucking his feet underneath him.

“Five minutes. Then you’re gone. I’m busy.” Stick in the mud? Stuck in the mud, he was not.

“I can do a lot in five minutes.”

Brian went to the kitchen and rooted for a bag of chips he knew was there somewhere. Eventually finding them, he threw them at Hunter. “Practice on those.”

He sighed, and opened the bag. “I bet you didn’t say that to Justin.”

Justin. Why did everyone want to speak about Justin?

“You’re just a kid.”

“So was Justin.” He munched on a handful of chips. “These are good, Ben is such a health freak. He was a virgin wasn’t he? Sloppy, inexperienced, I bet he came in seconds. I have experience.”

Brian snorted and sat back down at his computer, pretending to do something. “Selling your ass on the street isn’t experience.”

“I’m a professional.”

“You’re a kid.”

“A year younger than Justin was when you broke him in. I don’t see what you like in him. So, the tattoos are kind of hot, but he didn’t have those when you fucked him. What did he have?”

“A cute bubble butt and practically no gag reflex to speak of.” Amazing blue eyes and the ability to get under his skin.

“Is it because I have HIV?”

God, Brian hated how the damned kid jumped about from one conversation to another, it was giving him a headache. “It’s because you’re a kid, and more than that, you’re my best friend’s kid, or practically.”

Hunter’s face became serious. “I was sorta seeing this girl.”

Brian looked up in surprise, he’d figured Hunter was as queer as the rest of them.

“Don’t look shocked, I never got the chance to decide whether I liked pussy or cock. I was making up for lost time. Her mom found out about me having HIV and wouldn’t let me see her again.”

“That’s shitty.” Brian didn’t know what to say, he didn’t have first hand experience of HIV, and pussy wasn’t something high on his list of priorities.

“It’s easier with guys. People, straights, I mean, kind of expect it, you know? And guys aren’t as put off by it as girls.” He shoved a few more chips into his mouth, crunching noisily and looking thoughtful. “But she was nice, you know? I felt like I could have gone somewhere with her. Which is stupid really, ‘cos the only place I’m heading is six feet under.”

“We all head there sooner or later, it may shock you to realise death isn’t an exclusive club for positive men.”

“Positive, that’s a weird term to use don’t you think? Like it’s a good thing to have this disease. Negative would be a much better positive. What’s positive about being positive? Makes me feel damned negative I can tell ya’.”


Urgh, Brian’s head started to pound. He got up and headed for the bathroom, swallowing some painkillers and returning to the teenager, that for some reason, had decided to open up to him.

“Are you seeing Justin? Mikey ranted for days about seeing you both at Babylon. Do you think he’ll move back here? I hope not, don’t want to ruin my chances,” he winked suggestively, “plus Mikey will be hell to live with.”

Chapter 16

SIXTEEN Dancing Serpent

Justin stood in the living room of his apartment, canvas opposite the large window that let huge amounts of sunlight filter in. A splattered sheet lay on the floor to protect the threadbare carpet. A large paintbrush loaded with paint whizzed across the canvas, Justin uncaring as the paint sprayed against his bare chest.

His painting had become a lot looser over the years, losing the constraints of school, of people who expected him to paint a certain way, of his own expectations, thinking he could be the next Monet.

He piled on the paint, until his brush could make a grove through it. He loved the texture of oils, loved how he could layer the paint on like fine clothes, and he loved how the dry painting felt under his fingertips when he finished.

It wasn’t often he painted for pleasure anymore. Not that tattoo art work wasn’t pleasure. No matter how much he loved to design tattoos it was still a job and it too was constricting in a way. He had to stick to what a customer wanted, not letting enthusiasm take him into a different direction.

There was a bang at the door and he ignored it. Bren would just let himself in, and everyone else could fuck off. He was feeling inspired. The banging became louder, distracting him.

“Answer that, Cam!” Justin shouted, knowing his roommate could hear it too.

“Can’t. Naked.”

“Why the fuck are you naked?” That man had a serious problem with clothes.

“They’re all dirty, I’m waiting for them to grow legs and walk to the laundry.”

Inspiration well and truly interrupted, Justin placed his brush down, mopped his hands up with an old rag and padded to the door. He opened it with a scowl on his face, ready to bitch at whoever decided to knock on their door at such an inappropriate time in the afternoon.

The bitching died before it reached his throat. In fact, his throat, heart and ability to function seemed to die right there. Brian stood on the other side of the door, looking gorgeous in designer worn jeans and casual t-shirt.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Sunshine?” There was that singsong tone again, it riled Justin enough to shut his mouth and clear his throat.

“What are you doing here, Brian?”

Seeing he wasn’t going to get past the front door any time soon, he walked inside, brushing a light kiss on Justin’s cheek and taking a look around the small apartment.

“Well, not the Ritz, but it isn’t as shoddy as I was expecting.”

How dare the bastard come here and put his home down, something he’d worked so hard to get. He glared and repeated his earlier question. “What are you doing here, Brian?”

“Linz said you’d invited her and her family any time they wanted to visit, and unless you’ve forgotten, I’m family.” He sat down on the sofa, arms spread along the back, and smiled up at him, enjoying how ruffled Justin looked.

Suddenly feeling exposed, Justin went into his room and put a hole riddled t-shirt on over his paint splattered chest, then went out to try and make sense as to why Brian was here.

“You came all this way, because I gave Linz an invitation?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for an important account, I thought I’d look you up, see how you’re doing,” then quietly he added, “you’ve done good.”

Justin’s stomach tightened, and he couldn’t help the warm feeling that settled there. The words were simple, and typically Brian, but they were heartfelt, unlike his earlier comment.

“I thought you could show me the sights you were telling Lindsey about.”

“Somehow, I don’t think those kind of sights are what you had in mind. Plus, I’m working tomorrow.”

Brian raised an eyebrow, “You’re not working now though.”

“No...”

“Then you can show me your local hangouts.”

Justin wasn’t so sure about that, he felt weird mixing his old life with his new. He didn’t want Brian to mock, or belittle it, this was his life after all, and he didn’t want Brian to ruin the achievement.

“Surely you’ve got something better to do...You’ve done your duty for the family, and you can report back that I have electricity, running water and a roof over my head.”

Brian snorted, and pushed himself up off the sofa. “They don’t know I’m here. As for something better to do, would I be here if I didn’t?”

Cameron chose that moment to walk through the living room to the kitchen, naked as the day he was born, and sporting some of Justin’s earliest work. He ignored them both and poured himself a tall glass of Coca-Cola and went back to his room.

“He always walk around the place naked?”

Justin shrugged. “It’s his home.”

Brian looked as if he wanted to say more, but he bottled it and changed the subject instead. “So, we on for tonight?”

“Sure.” Justin still wasn’t so sure about taking Brian to the Inked Serpent, but he didn’t really have a choice.

“Great. I have a few things to sort out, and I’ll be back tonight, about ten-thirty?”

Justin nodded and let the confusion show on his face as Brian kissed his cheek chastely and left quickly.

“So, who was that?” Cameron shouted from his room. Justin jumped slightly, forgetting Cameron was there, and walked into his bedroom, to fill him in on what had just happened.

“That was Brian Kinney.” The answer was as unnecessary as the question. Cameron knew who the tall brunette had been, but the question had got Justin moving and opening up.

“He’s hot.”

Justin sat on the end of Cameron’s bed. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound so sure about that?”

“Oh, he’s hot alright. I just don’t know why he’s here. I thought he would have had enough of me back in the Pitts.”

“Obviously not, sugar,” Cam drawled, then pushed Justin with his foot. “Don’t you need to get ready to go out?”

“We’re not going until ten-thirty.”

“Best get a wriggle on then.” Justin threw a cushion at Cameron’s head and headed out, feeling slightly happier.

***

It took Justin a while to realise he was looking for clothes like he used to wear. He shook his head angrily. It was annoying how he was unconsciously trying to fit in with Brian again.

His wardrobe held nothing even half way resembling what he used to wear, no cargo pants, no FCUK, no trendy t-shirts or button down shirts. Purposely he pulled out his least WASPish clothing, a black and red striped net shirt and tight black jeans. He thought briefly about painting his nails black, but realised he would only be doing it to try and shock Brian.

He didn’t want to antagonize him, but he wanted the older man to realise he was comfortable with who he was now.

He tied the top half of his hair up, showing off the silver studs in his ears and making his blue eyes stand out in his pale face.

Brian knocked on the door, his eyes only widening slightly when he saw Justin’s attire. “Something tells me, we’re not going to a dance club.”

“Oh, there’ll be dancing, but it’ll be my kind of dancing.” Justin pulled Brian out the door. “Later, Cam!”

“Your friend not coming?”

“He’s working the night shift.”

“Oh.”

“He works at a 24-hour porn shop.” Brian laughed and followed Justin as he worked the tube like a pro.

Justin held onto Brian as they walked into the Inked Serpent, heavy metal washing over them, louder than any night at Babylon.

“Who would have known you’d turn out so kinky.” Brian looked around with interest. Noticing the bare, inked skin, and the piercings.

“If you think this is kinky, you’re not the Brian I knew.” Justin leaned over the bar and ordered them a beer.

“Oh, I’m still the Brian you knew, I just don’t know what you see in this thing.” He had to shout over the music, Justin heard every other word, but it was enough.
“I’m not ‘into’ this kind of thing, I am this kind of thing, or haven’t you noticed.” He held out his arms, the net shirt hanging loosely off his frame, giving a glimpse of what was underneath.

“Funny, you never once mentioned tattooing when I first met you, an animator yes, but tattooing, no.”

Justin grinned, trying his hardest to give a carefree attitude. “I went where the wind took me.”

“Don’t you mean my credit card?”

Justin sighed, giving up the pretence of being happy. “Why did you come here if you’re just gonna bitch about that?”

“Fine, why don’t you show me your kingdom?”

Before Justin could reply a strange pair of hands squeezed Brian’s shoulders before running down his bare, unadorned, skin. “Oooh, fresh meat, Justin?”

Justin held back a chuckle and slowly disentangled Brian from one of his regulars. “Hey John. ‘Fraid not. He’s staying a virgin, for the foreseeable future anyway.” Justin winked at John and placed an arm around Brian’s waist, trying not to think about how good it felt.

Brian hated being called a virgin, even if it wasn’t related to his sexual prowess. He just didn’t see the desire in mutilating skin with a design you’d probably end up hating a few years into the future.

Brian kept his views quiet, he had a feeling they wouldn’t go down too well here.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday, Jus, gotta go find me a stud.” John winked and sauntered off.

“Nice friends you have.”

Justin turned Brian’s face towards him, “My friends are the best,” he said seriously, then he kissed him, hard, fingers digging into his strong cheekbones. He doesn’t know why he kissed Brian, he hadn’t meant to, but he wanted to, and he never could resist the other man.

“Justin, Justin, put the gentlemen down.”

Justin paused, mid kiss, pulling away slowly and looking over Brian’s shoulder to Bren.

“Don’t you two look the picture, one pale and unsullied, the other painted and dark.” Bren’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he settled himself onto a stool.

“That’s the first time I’ve been called unsullied,” Brian commented, tongue in cheek.

“Brian, this is my boss, Bren. Bren, Brian.”

“Well, isn’t it nice to meet the guy who got Justin into this wonderful scene.” Brian said with forced cheerfulness.

“Almost as nice as meeting the guy who pushed him into it.”

Justin groaned inwardly, this wasn’t going well. “Come on guys, play nice.”

He still didn’t get why Brian was here. They weren’t sorting anything out, they weren’t fucking, and Brian seemed to hate Justin’s new life, so why was he there?

“Lets dance, Bri.” He pulled at his hand, annoyed when Brian shrugged it off.

He nodded towards the mosh pit. “You call that dancing? I don’t think so. I’m taking a piss.” He didn’t ask for directions, just walked into the crowd, eyes travelling over muscular bodies. Justin tried to hide his hurt feelings from Bren behind a quick smile and a shrug, then disappearing into the mosh pit anyway. He wouldn’t let Brian ruin this for him.

Harsh shoves and flying limbs swallowed him up and he went with the motion, thrashing around angrily, his eyes only straying to the bar looking for Brian occasionally.

It was over twenty minutes before he returned and leaned against the bar next to Bren. Justin didn’t know what they were saying, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He carried on moshing, sweat dripping between his shoulder blades.

“Hurt him and I’ll kill you,” Bren said without taking his eyes off Justin in the mosh pit.

“What’s it to you? Fucking him?”

Bren smiled slowly, showing a mouth full of metal. “You only had to ask, Brian, is the thought of it bothering you?”

Brian shrugged. “Not really, I’m only here to ease my guilty conscience.”

“Of course you are.”

Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN Drown in this Love

The Inked Serpent didn’t go well, and by the time they left, Brian silently following Justin back to his apartment, Justin was ready to call it quits, to hide under the covers and pretend Brian hadn’t come to visit, that he hadn’t gone to the Pitts.

Why was he even following Justin home? He’d probably fucked at least a dozen guys on the way to the bathroom and back.

Justin switched on the lights, glaringly bright after the dimness of the club. Brian looked too good, his hair sweat slicked against his forehead and his bare shoulders glistening slightly.

Justin knew he looked a state, straggled hair around his face, tie knotted at the back of his head, and his skin moist with the mingled sweat of the mosh pit. “What the fuck are you doing here Brian?”

“I already told you that.” Brian walked over to the fridge, frowning at the bottled cola and half-empty carton of orange juice. He picked up the carton, sniffing it slightly to see if it was safe, then took a few gulps.

“Jeez, Brian, this isn’t even your place and you’re acting as if you own it. I know what you told me before, but why are you *really* here? I’m yesterday’s news, the twink that disappeared. You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to declare my undying love and start following you around like a lovesick puppy. You can go home, guilt eased, and forget all about me.” Justin glared up at him. “But first I want to know why the hell you came in the first place.”

Brian dropped the juice onto the counter with a thud, stepping forward and looking down at Justin. “Why does it matter?” Why did he have to explain every god-damned action?

“I want to know why you feel the need to reopen old wounds, why you had to come to my home to do it.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know...” His hands reached out, fingers finding black and red net, bunching it up, pushing him away, then pulling Justin back against him. “I don’t know.” He said, head bowing until he found Justin’s lips with his own.

Justin pressed up against him, standing on his tiptoes and pulled at Brian’s hair, bringing him closer and deepening the kiss.

Brian’s fingers unclenched and went for Justin’s zipper, plunging his hand inside and grasping his erection. Justin moaned into the kiss, thrusting his hips into Brian’s hand. “Bedroom.” He said messily, in between raw, bruising kisses.

They made it to Justin’s room, still bathed in darkness. Brian hesitated slightly, then lowered his head for another kiss, this time long, slow, sucking Justin’s top lip into his mouth, then his bottom lip.

Justin shuffled backwards, clutching onto Brian, making sure he moved with him, until the back of his knees touched the bed and he tumbled backwards, the older man landing on top of him.

The darkness cast a comforting blanket over Justin as he felt Brian’s hand push his shirt up over his chest, he sat slightly, letting him pull it over his head before lying back down.

In the darkness he almost looked like the Justin Brian used to know. He watched as Brian pulled his own t-shirt over his head, his body as toned as it always had been. He smoothed his hands over Brian’s chest, down to his bellybutton and curled into the swirl of hair below.

Brian stopped him before he went lower, holding one of his hands in his own. He reached for the bedside lamp and felt Justin tense. He let his fingers hover over the switch and leaned down, over him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “I want to see you.” He pressed the switch, bathing them both in a soft amber glow.

Justin’s heart jumped into his throat as Brian knelt over him, looking down on skin that hadn’t been bare in years. Vines spiralled down Justin’s arms, disappearing into his gloves. Brian let his eyes travel around his chest, more vines peeking from around his back, curving around his belly button and disappearing into pubic hair. Leaves and thorns from one shoulder trailed down his chest, over a nipple.

It didn’t make much sense to Brian, it was like seeing only half a painting. He opened his legs wider, giving Justin more room. “Roll over,” he whispered.

“Brian-” Justin started, before thinking better of it and rolling onto his stomach, letting Brian see the biggest change in his life.

Brian had no words for what he saw, for the emotion that coiled in his stomach and flowed out through every pore. He leaned down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to a shoulder blade. Only it wasn’t a shoulder blade, but delicate lines of grey, each mark working together, creating a face that seemed to shimmer as Justin breathed heavily.

Brian licked the picture, sure he’d be able to taste it, to taste the pain he could see in the eye of a dragon, the eye reflecting the image of a man, a man that could only be Justin.

Brian sat further back, taking the image in as a whole, the dragon’s head pointing downwards, caught against its own body by a tangle of vines. It’s body twisted down Justin’s spine, each curve entangling it even more.

Brian bent over him, tongue trailing from the bottom of the dragon to the tip of its ear, ignoring the vines that tangled dragon to man and man to dragon.

It stopped being a tattoo the moment he’d laid eyes on it. It was more than injected ink, it was a part of Justin, or maybe Justin was a part of it, vines entangling man and dragon for eternity.

He leaned down slightly, pressing his chest to Justin’s back, making the smaller man jump slightly. Brian held Justin’s arms out, and cheek pressed against shoulder, he looked down the expanse of skin, watching the vines that seemed to come alive, twirl around his arm.
As an ad-exec he should understand the meaning behind the tattoo, it was meant to be a statement after all, but Brian couldn’t think beyond the storm of emotions that seeing Justin’s body had evoked.

It was beautiful, not because the artwork was amazing, or because the technique used was the best, but because Justin was beautiful, and if Brian admitted that to himself, he always had been.

Brian shuffled down slightly, kissing the slight dips of Justin’s spine as he went, occasionally stopping and swirling his tongue around a particularly cruel looking vine, soothing it, sucking it into his mouth, as if he could ease the pain and suffering as he went.

When he reached the waistband to Justin’s pants he sat up and pulled, causing the blond to moan at the friction, and lift his hips so Brian could peel them down his legs easier.

The vines trailed over Justin’s hips and down his legs, but there were other tattoos too, tattoos Brian couldn’t make sense of. He pulled Justin’s socks off and smoothed his hands down lean legs and ankles.

Justin couldn’t take any more and he turned around, sitting up quickly and pulling Brian down, over him, his painfully hard cock scraping across the denim of Brian’s jeans. Brian hissed and pushed the denim over his own hips, freeing his cock quickly, his breath hitching as Justin’s hand grasped it and squeezed.

Brian closed his eyes, and leaned his forehead against Justin’s, trying to get his breathing under control, he didn’t want this to finish before it had even begun. He pulled Justin’s hands away from him, and moved to the end of the bed, kneeling on the floor and pulling Justin until his legs were over his shoulders, and cock, wonderfully close to his mouth.

Brian licked his inner thighs, going from one to the other, and ignoring the throbbing cock brushing his cheek. He dipped down further, massaging his balls with his tongue, causing Justin to wriggle and moan above him.

Brian smirked, enjoying the torment he was causing, and lapped quickly at the base of Justin’s dick before slowing the pace and flattening his tongue along the shaft, causing as much friction as possible.

Justin flung an arm over his eyes, unable to keep them open anymore, he bit into his own lip, trying to keep himself from screaming as Brian’s tongue circled the head of his penis, dipping into the pre-come at the tip before descending over him.

He forgot all about trying not to scream and let the high pitched gasps burst from his throat. He leaned up, uncomfortably, on one elbow, until he was able to thread his fingers in Brian’s hair, holding tight, thrusting into his mouth.

Brian pulled away laughing, his eyes twinkling. He quickly pushed the jeans off, from around his ankles, taking out the condom and lube he’d placed there earlier that evening, and climbed back on top of Justin, kissing him deeply, his tongue exploring Justin’s mouth, brushing the roof of his mouth and duelling with his tongue.

He let his talented fingers work their magic, teasing his cock, before slipping behind his balls searching for the opening his cock had never forgotten.

He covered his fingers in lube, covering rim of Justin’s opening, before slowly working a finger inside. Justin groaned and clutched his shoulders, feeling one finger, then two, work their way inside him.

Brian pushed the blond’s legs over his shoulders and donned a condom, covering himself in the remainder of the lube and leaned forward, guiding his cock to Justin’s waiting ass, pushing in and breaching the barriers.

He pushed himself all the way in until his balls touched Justin’s butt, he stayed like that for a few seconds, trying to regulate his breathing, wanting this to last, wishing the natural prowess of Brian Kinney hadn’t deserted him.

Justin lifted his head, searching for Brian’s lips and almost swallowed his lover’s tongue as the new position had Brian’s cock brushing against his prostate.

Brian smirked against his lips and rotated his hips before pulling out and slamming back in. Justin screamed into his mouth and clutched at his neck, unable to get enough of him, wanting to touch him all over at once.

Brian snaked a hand between them and grasped Justin’s cock. It was almost too much for Justin, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, he wasn’t sure he could take it, but he wasn’t sure he could stop it either. It had been so long since someone had paid him such attention.

He placed one hand over Brian’s slowing the motion slightly, tightening it, moving in sync to Brian’s hips. A tingling feeling started in the tips of his toes, spreading like wildfire up his legs and into his groin, before bursting and shooting throughout the rest of his body like electricity.

Justin’s cock spurted over their joined hands, covering Brian’s chest and mingling in pubic hair. Brian slammed into him one more time, letting go of Justin’s cock and pulling his hips up, closer to him, coming until he was spent, falling on top of Justin like a dead weight.

He lay gasping, his head sticking to Justin’s chest with sweat. Holding the condom in place he pulled out, and pulled it off, slinging it onto the other side of the bed, they’d made so much mess it hardly mattered anyway.

He moved up the bed slightly, rolling off Justin until they lay side by side, both quiet, save the beating of their hearts.

Brian couldn’t stop looking at Justin’s lean frame, seeing come cooling on his stomach and over his hands. Brian trailed a finger nail down his wrist and took hold of his hand, bringing it to his mouth and sucking each finger, while his own fingers worked the Velcro free. He hooked a finger into the leather and started to pull, startled when Justin pulled it away quickly.

“No.” was all he said. Brian sat up, leaning against one elbow, so he could look into Justin’s eyes. “I don’t want anything to taint tonight,” he said so softly Brian barely heard him.

“Nothing could taint this. Tell me what’s wrong.” Brian threaded their fingers, resisting the temptation to pull the gloves off and see what was beneath.

“Nothings wrong, just...just a reminder of how stupid I was back then.” Justin had gotten good at giving explanations without giving away anything, at one time Brian would have been proud, but Justin hadn’t learned this off him, he’d learned it the hard way.

“I let that phone call to my dad colour every other relationship I had in my life,” he admitted. “This is one of the consequences, and I’ll tell you, just not tonight, when it’s been so great.”

Brian smirked and lay back down, pulling the sheet up over them. “Great? I seem to recall biting each other’s heads off and spending the best part of four hours in a dive.”

Justin smacked his shoulder and chuckled softly. “The rest was pretty great though.”

“I’m always great.”

“And so modest with it.”

They drifted off into easy silence, both lost in their own thoughts, happy just to be next to each other, both smelling of sex and satisfaction. “I didn’t know you came looking for me you know. I have this dream where you do find me in that hotel room and we fuck for hours.”

“I was planning on giving you a good seeing to.” Their words were casual, but the underlying seriousness was all too real.

“Fucking cunt stole it off me, beat me up and took off.” Beat him into a bloody pulp, took the only thing he had connection him to Brian and left him alone, he shuddered thinking about it, then smiled as Brian pulled him against him. It rained that night. Rain washed away his blood and eased his aching muscles, ice setting into his veins, only now thawing in Brian’s arms.

Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN Dappled Sunshine

Sunlight peeked through the gaps in the curtains, dappled light playing over sated skin. Justin lightly trailed his hands along the patterns created by the sun’s rays on Brian’s back, enjoying the smooth, unblemished skin, it was just like he remembered it, only better because this was reality, not just a memory.

It was early, but Justin wasn’t tired, he was too happy, too wired, worried, conflicted, confused, all at once. He’d never experienced anything like last night, before, not even with Brian when they’d first met. Justin only hoped that Brian’s good mood didn’t disappear as the sun rose.

Brian rolled over, opening one eye and smirking at Justin. “Now you’ve woke me up you should put that hand to good use,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

Worry disappearing, Justin slowly lowered his hand, pushing down the sheets and knocking into Brian’s erection before grasping it. Justin smiled as Brian bit back a moan. “As much as I’d like to continue this here, we both reek, I think a shower is definitely in order.” Justin jumped from the bed, pulled on his boxers and threw Brian’s at him. “You coming?”

Brian looked at his underwear in disgust, throwing in on the floor again, he followed Justin to the bathroom, naked, a little disappointed when Justin’s flatmate was nowhere to be seen, he wanted for him to see just who had claimed Justin last night.

“It’s a good job I don’t mind skin on skin contact, Sunshine,” Brian said, when he saw the size of the shower.

Justin took off his gloves and placed them on the closed toilet, Brian pretended not to notice, and refused to let his eyes be drawn to his bare palms. The blond would tell him when he was ready, and Brian would try his hardest not to pry.

“This shower is the reason I moved into this apartment,” Justin joked, his eyes twinkling as he stepping into the shower and turned on the taps.

Brian followed him, shutting the shower curtain on them, pulling Justin’s hips into his. “You must have had a lot of guests to perfect it like this.” Brian closed his eyes, water flowing over his face, down his chest, wetting his pubic hair, which practically screamed at Justin to touch it.

“You have no idea.” Justin couldn’t help but compare the shower scene with Cam to this one, but the distraction of Brian’s erection was too much. He pulled at the wiry hair at Brian’s groin, and then cupped his cock in his bare palm. Brian gasped at the feeling. Justin’s hand was scorching hot, and oh so smooth compared to the leather, he’d never realised how much he loved the palm of a hand, the simple beauty of it as it was wrapped around his cock.


***

FLASH TATTOOS are for the unimaginative, ORIGINALS only, inked here.

This was the sign Brian saw from the outside of Justin’s work place. It was an impressive building, two large windows either side of a glass and chrome door, the contrast to the sign was amazing.

Brian stared up at it, and the figures of Mechanical Michelangelo seemed to come to life the more he stared. Men of days gone by, lounging around in their naked glory, the only slight difference was the patterns covering their skin.

He wondered if Justin had anything to do with designing it. He walked through the door, surprised at the amount of light flooding the large reception room. He’d expected it to be dingier for some reason.

The walls were painted a crisp white, the counter silver to match the door and window frames. An old, but comfy looking sofa was pressed against one wall, tattoo magazines scattered on the coffee table in front.

Bren looked up from the counter, then seeing it was Brian, looked back down, flicking through the appointment book intently. “Justin is working.”

It was then Brian heard the buzzing of a tattoo gun and he felt a moments panic, worried that Justin may go wrong and slip, before realising he’d been doing this for years, and just because it was Brian’s first time seeing it didn’t mean it was his first time tattooing.

“I’ll wait. Nice place you have here.” He walked around, stepping closer to the walls and realising there were no designs for people to chose from whatsoever.

One wall displayed a life size photo of Justin’s back, subtly photographed and framed in black. Brian would know that tattoo anywhere, he’d spent the night memorising it after all.

It took him a while to drag his eyes away and look at the smaller photographs surrounding it. Photos of tattoos, the skin red, as if it had only just been inked. Each photo was different, each obviously tattooed by Justin.

He really was talented and he really was a tattooist. Brian knew it, Mikey had told him all about the convention after all, but he hadn’t really thought about what that entailed.

“Fucking fantastic isn’t he?” Bren said. “You don’t get many as talented as he is.”

“Like you?”

“Oh, I’m talented alright. Who do you think inked Justin’s tattoo?” Brian hadn’t thought of that, it was so much a part of Justin it was almost as if it had just emerged from his skin.

Brian moved away from Justin’s boss, eyeing the wall that he gathered displayed Bren’s work. There was a photo of Bren’s back and chest, hundreds of tattoos merging into one.
“If you can pick out which one Justin inked, I’ll stop giving you a hard time.”

Brian laughed, “You call this giving me a hard time?”

Bren shook his head, serious. “No, but you don’t want me to start, believe me.”

“Why does it even matter?”

“It’ll help me believe you really do care about him, that you aren’t cooking up some kind of revenge for what he did three years ago, that you aren’t just messing with him and that you aren’t going to break his heart.”

“Fuck, you’re a twisted son of a bitch if you think that.”

“Which ones?”

Brian sighed, irritated, but stepped closer to the photograph. The tattoos as a whole didn’t do anything for him, there were too many, too cramped, and they didn’t relate to each other.

“That one.” He pointed to a portrait of a young girl, it reminded him of the style Justin used to have, similar to the sketches he’d submitted to the GLC.

“Maybe I won’t have to kill you just yet then.” Bren said as Justin walked his customer out. He gave Brian a bright smile and then turned back, handing the man tattoo care instructions.

When he left Justin sauntered up to Brian, reaching on tiptoes to kiss his lips. “What you doing here?”

“I finished up business early, thought I'd come to see you in the work place.”

Customers chose that moment to walk through the door, Justin gave them a quick wave, then turned back to Brian, knowing they were Bren’s clients. “So what do you think about it?”

“Impressed. Though I'm disappointed you don’t have any ‘I Heart Mom’ designs I can chose from.”

Justin laughed and pulled Brian over to the sofa. “’Cos you get on with your mom so well. Anyway, we don’t do those kind of tattoos.” He pointed to the sign in the windows. “No flash tattoos, if the customer wants to be a sheep they can go to any other tattoo parlour. If they want an original they’ll stay and help design it.”

“A Justin Taylor original sounds kind of hot.” Brian pushed his tongue into the side of his cheek as his hand grabbed at Justin’s crotch.

“No, no, no. No starting anything now, my next client is due any time, and I have to get ready.” Justin pulled himself off the sofa and went behind the counter, reaching for a spare box of latex gloves and tissues before taking them into the back room. A few seconds later he popped his head around the door. “You sticking around?”

“Brian leaned back on the sofa, crossing ankle over knee. “I thought I’d watch a real artiste at work.”

Chapter 19


 
NINETEEN Pillow Talk

Justin popped bread in the toaster and spooned instant coffee into two mugs. Brian could like it or lump it. He frowned, trying not to dwell on the man packing up his things in the other room.

As nice as this weekend had been, it still didn’t answer the questions he so badly needed answering. What the fuck was going on between them? Would Brian admit it, and did Justin want to go through it again, only to have it fall flat around him? He’d been in that low place before, and it’d taken him a long time to pull himself out of it, and only then with the help of his friends.

Justin couldn’t help wishing Brian could stay longer, this weekend seemed as though it was apart from the real world of family, commitment and best friends that wished they could be more, in Brian’s case anyway.

The urge to stalk Brian like he had before didn’t temp him this time around, he lived too far away for a start, and he would not do all the running only to get shit on again.

Justin shook his head, he was thinking like he knew they were going somewhere, this could be nothing more than a goodbye fling for Brian, and if it was, Justin would not let it show how much it hurt him.

The streets of New York were a good place to learn to hide your emotions.

The toast popped up, and Justin swore as he saw the blackened bread. He’d forgotten to lower the time. Cam, for some strange reason, known only to himself and a god neither of them believed in, liked his toast cremated.

Justin rooted in the draw for a knife and began scraping the burned bits into the bin, before buttering it well, hoping it would soak into the toast and make it less dry.

“If that’s for me, I’ll pass.” Brian eyed the toast dubiously, dropping his bag on the floor in the kitchen, he walked over to Justin, standing close, and leaned over, grasping a mug and taking a sip. He grimaced slightly, but kept quiet. Good, he’d drank Debbie’s coffee for years, he should be used to the bad stuff.

“It’s not so bad,” Justin said, almost chocking on a particularly charred piece.

“You keep telling yourself that, Sunshine.” Brian patted his pants, feeling for his wallet and cell phone, assured he had everything he pulled Justin forward, kissing away the crumbs caressing the younger man’s lips.
“I have to go, don’t want to miss my plane.”

“No, we don’t want that, do we?” A part of Justin wanted that, and badly, wanted to lock himself in a room with Brian and fuck for eternity, no interruptions, no responsibilities and no heartache.

“I’m glad you came,” Justin admitted, feeling the need to say something about this weekend. They couldn’t just end it like...*that* and not say something, anything.

“I’m glad I came too.” Brian rolled his tongue into his cheek and leered at Justin.

Justin laughed, rolling his eyes, he should have guessed he’d get no serious, verbal, reply from Brian.

Brian picked up his travel bag, hiking it over his shoulder and walking to the front door.

Justin followed silently, wondering if this would be the last time they’d see each other, if they’d fucked for the last time, kissed for the last time. The thoughts rolled through his mind at a depressingly fast pace.

“I’ll see you next weekend then.” Brian said as he opened the door and walked out casually.

Justin almost missed it, then he almost ran out, an old sunshine smile on his face, he settled for yanking the door open, hands on hips. “Maybe you should ask, I might be away next weekend.”

Brian stopped, turning around, a trademark smirk on his face. “Are you?” It probably hadn’t even occurred to him that Justin could be out of town, at another studio, at a convention, out with friends, hunting for tricks, or something.

“It’s battle of the bands at the Inked Serpent.”

“Oh joy, the bands better be hot then.” With a wave in Justin’s direction he walked down the flight of stairs.

Justin was shocked Brian would be visiting next weekend. He was astonished that he’d agreed to go to the Inked Serpent.


Justin padded softly to his bedroom, flopping onto the bed still rumpled from their earlier activities and let his thoughts wash over him.

A part of him was excited that Brian had turned up, it showed that he wanted something, surely? If it was just about sex he could have got that anywhere on Liberty.

Justin wasn’t entirely sure why Brian had shown up, but that was OK, maybe Brian didn’t know that either.

He rolled onto his stomach, reaching for his cell phone and dialled Daphne’s number. “Daph! You busy?” He asked as she answered.

“Maybe I should be asking if you’re busy?” She asked, that tone in her voice that all females seemed to get when they wanted something.

Fuck, Justin remembered the work diary. If he’d remembered before he wouldn’t have called, he’d have rang Cam instead.

“I’m always busy, so busy in fact, I can’t just swan off.”

“It’s not swanning if it’s booked, though.” He could practically hear the pout in her voice.

“Come on, Justin, aren’t you in the least bit curious to find out what Mary Eccles and Billy Crook have been up to? Maybe he knocked her up and they’re both married now, living with her parents. Euw, can you imagine?”

“I don’t want to imagine,” Justin drawled, “anyway, can we get back to the reason why I called.”

“You mean that wasn’t the reason?”

“You want to talk about what two pricks from high school are up to when I could fill you in on how my trip home went?”

“Fuck, I totally forgot you went home, I’m sorry, how did it go, did you and your mom rip each others throat out?”

“Shut up and I may tell you. Tension is still strife on the homestead, but that’s not what’s important. I saw Brian.” He skipped to the important part, he’d leave his mother to another day.

“Fuck, that fuck! Did you give him what for?”

“I’d say he gave me what for.” Justin smirked, stretching out on the bed, feeling the slight ache deep inside him.

“You didn’t? After what he did? Fuck, he’s an asshole, don’t you have any sense?”

“We’ve sorted it all out now, it’s OK.”

“You actually talked about how he treated you?” Why were girls so damned persistent?

“Well, no, but you know we do our best talking between the sheets.” Phoning Daphne seemed less like a good idea by the second.

“You should have seen his reaction when I told him you ran off. No emotion at all, he’s a shit, and he doesn’t deserve you.” Daphne ranted

“He came to New York this weekend.”

“So what, he shouldn’t have left until he found you.”

He hadn’t quite realised how much pent up anger his best friend had for Brian. He clutched the phone tighter and rolled onto his side, fingers running over stained sheets.

“Don’t be worried. I’m not going to run my life around him, I’m not going to let him hurt me. I’m not that naive little twink that ran off anymore.”

“I know you’re not, and it kills me to think of what you went through to leave that twink behind.”

“Don’t dwell on it, I don’t. And can we get back on track?” And away from the depressing, serious issues of his life. “Three years, and he’s still the best fuck I ever had.” Justin grinned.

“All those talented men in New York and you have to settle for Brian. He’s not good enough for you, even if he is one good fuck.”

Chapter 20

TWENTY Don't Worry When it Rains

Justin hunted through the cupboards, pulling out mugs in place of shot glasses and pouring a generous amount of vodka in each. "Am I a cartoon?" He called into the living room, he heard them converse, then Cam shouted out a smug, "no". Justin sighed irritably, and took the alcohol into their friends.

He set the mugs on the floor in front of his and Cam's friends, and sat cross-legged, closing the circle.

"Is your sugar daddy rich?" One asked, causing Justin to send Cam a sour glare. The last thing he wanted was to discuss his weekend fuck fest with a bunch of horny guys.

The rain battered the windows outside, and thunder groaned ahead. Some of the guys were still dripping wet, but at least they had a warm place to stay.

"I don't have a sugar daddy, I have enough sugar all on my own." Justin knocked back another shot, the vodka warming his stomach.

"Do I have wheels?" Cam piped up innocently.

"Have you told him about us?" Peter was the youngest of them at seventeen, Justin hadn't known him when he'd been on the streets, but the others seemed to have adopted him and he'd started to tag along.
"We had better things to do than talk about you guys."

"Guys, do I have wheels or not?"

"No!" Peter shot out, before setting his interest back on Justin.

"Cam said he's totally hot. An emotional cripple, but hot."

"And just how would Cameron know he's an emotional cripple?" Justin looked down his nose at him, and pushed a mug in front of him.

"Cameron is all knowing, and all seeing, he's just worried that Justin will get shit on." Cameron said in a light manner with underlying seriousness.

"If he's hot, and has enough money to keep me in the manner I'd like to become accustomed, I'd over look the emotional cripple part." Leon sucked on a cigarette and leaned back on his elbows. "Do I have pussy?"

"Euw, and yes."

"Leon's right, man, keep him sweet and have an easy ride."

"Sweet and easy rides aren't in Brian's nature." Justin said. "Do I have a beard?"

Looks of confusion past between them. "Is it a beard? I suppose it could be."

"Not fair, yes or no answers."

"No then, definitely not a beard."

"I heard he was really old." Peter grinned like a kid and Justin couldn't help but laugh.

"He's younger than Bren."

"I don't think any of us have had a steady before, I think it's sweet." Leon smirked, nudging Justin with his foot.

Justin lay on the carpet, looking up at the ceiling, staring lovingly at every crack, because they were his cracks and his ceiling, it gave him a sense of satisfaction and he fell in love with them a little more with each mouthful of alcohol he had.

He didn't want to talk about Brian, he wanted to get drunk with his friends, play silly, childish games, because they rarely had a chance to have simple, honest fun and when they did all get together they had the best time cooping themselves in the apartment, drinking cheap vodka and doing things they never had a chance to as a kid.

Brian wasn't part of that, and Justin couldn't imagine him sitting on the floor with them, having immature fun that had nothing to do with fucking a nameless face. Maybe they would never fit into each other's lives.

An odd weekend here and there wouldn't change that. Justin sat up enough to gulp on the bottle without dribbling.

"Do I wear clothes?"

Peter burst out laughing and pummelled the carpet. "Does he wear clothes, man?"

Cam smiled and sipped at his vodka. "No, you don't. Am I a cartoon?"

Justin looked at Peter and grinned. "I suppose you could be."

"No fair, yes or no answers then?"

"Hmm, OK, no, you aren't."

"Hey, Jus," Leon piped up, changing the subject, "I got this tattoo a couple of weeks ago, it's for shit, can you do a cover up?" Leon pulled up his t-shirt, showing an average tracing and raised, angry skin. He peered closer at him, but didn't touch.

"Shit man, looks infected to me, did you put any ointment on it?"

Leon shrugged, "Never bothered with my other ones."

"You should go to the hospital, get it looked at. No decent tattooist would touch you like that, no offence." Justin felt cold inside, and hoped his friend would do as he suggested.

"We can clean it up a little here, but you'll probably need antibiotics." He got up, stumbling only slightly as seeing Leon's tattoo had sobered him up somewhat. "Bathroom." Leon stood and followed him silently.

Justin changed his leather gloves for latex ones. Becoming a tattoo artist had made him a little pedantic when it came to infection and he needed to be as safe as he could with all his clients. He washed the raw area with warm water first, then slightly soaped it, rinsing it and applying a mild antiseptic cream.

He pulled off the latex expertly and threw them in the bin. He shoved the tube of cream into Leon's hand. "Here, keep it, I have spares."

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. Though I'm mightily offended you went to another tattooist."

"He was hot."

Back in the living room, bodies sprawled over the carpet, they stopped speaking as they saw Justin. "Am I, that fucking monster from Monster's Inc?"

Peter burst out laughing again and the others slowly joined in, Justin took the post-it-note from his head and looked at it, seeing Sulley in big, bold letters.

"Sulley? And you don't call him a cartoon?" Justin pouted, they always cheated at this game.

"It's not a cartoon, it's animation, totally different things."

"And you had trouble deciding if he had a beard or not, you guys are seriously fucked."

"He's a monster, he had fur all over, not just in the chin area."

"So who the hell am I?" Cam pulled his post-it-note of his had and took a look. "Santa? How the hell was I supposed to get that?"

***

The two friends lay facing each other in Cam's bed, listening as Leon and Peter murmured softly whilst getting ready to sleep the rest of the night away in Justin's bed.

The rain still beat against the windows, droplets bursting against the roof, as if trying to get in to them, almost as if telling them it was wrong for them to be inside.

Some people were just meant to be street kids. But not them, god, not them. Justin pulled the sheets up to his chin, basking in the warmth of central heating and soft blankets.

Leon and Peter didn't have that. They had a doorway, a bridge or a friend's apartment, but they had nothing of their own to keep the ice seeping into their veins.

"They're gonna stay as long as the rain holds out." Cam said as if he could read Justin's mind. "They don't resent us because we got out."

"I know, I just...I can't help feeling relieved that we don't have to worry when it rains. My friends are out in it day and night, and I'm just glad it's not me."

"They aren't out in it now, they're sleeping in your bed. They know we're here for them, that we'll take them in, but they also know we aren't a drop in centre. If we can get off the streets so can they."

"We had each other though, and Bren."

"And Leon has Peter and as much as I love Bren, he didn't get us off the streets. He made you work for peanuts, he hated me and refused to let even you, stay with him."

"He thought we'd steal his silver."

"He gave you a career break, but we clawed our way out of the gutter and no one can take credit for that but us. We didn't get this apartment because of Bren, it was our dream long before that."

A dream come true, both of them cleaning up and getting a decent job. Justin didn't like the rain, he could hear each raindrop whisper to him as it exploded against the windowpane, watery voices telling him he didn't deserve everything he'd worked so hard to get.

"Are you going to tell me about Brian?" Cam asked.

Justin stared at him, so close he could barely see Cam's silhouette in the darkness. "You know everything already."

"I know about the past, but I don't know the recent stuff. Why did he visit?" Cam lay a hand over Justin's waist, getting comfortable.

"I don't know why he was here, and I didn't press it."

"In case he ran off, tail between his legs? Literally."

"Something like that. Being with Brian is like a roller coaster ride. Scary as hell, sickening, addictive, all consuming. I wanted it to be different this time. More equal, less turmoil. For that to happen he has to be around, If I push too much he'll probably fuck off and I'll never get the chance to see what could happen with us. Either way I could end up alone, but that seventeen-year-old kid inside me tells me I'll regret it if I don't try." Justin threaded his fingers with Cam's and squeezed. "Who knows, I could realise I hate the fucking sight of him."

Cam chuckled softly and leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss to Justin's lips.

"Maybe people like us aren't supposed to have relationships." Justin's words were starting to slur, alcohol and tiredness taking their toll.

"People like us aren't supposed to have apartments, people like me will probably die before you decide what you want."

Justin frowned and pulled Cam closer, hands wrapping around the worn fabric of his friend's t-shirt. "Don't say it like that, you'll be around for a very long time."

"Are you going to tell Brian?"

"About you?" Justin asked, not wanting to think much about what he would and wouldn't tell the older man.

"About everything," and he stressed the word everything."

"Need to see how it goes first, no point in telling him if we decide we hate each other in a few weeks."
Cameron snorted but remained quiet.

"Do you think the reason we get on so well is because we met at night?" Justin asked suddenly, the rain becoming louder to his ears.

He felt Cam shrug, and heard a soft "Maybe," next to his ear.

"The darkness is like a safety blanket, you can tell your innermost fears beneath it, fears, that in the light of day, are just too difficult to talk about."

"You're a depressing drunk, Justin."

"You didn't drink at all."

"Someone had to play grown up." Cam shifted onto his back and stared at the darkness in front of him.

"I think the darkness is spinning."

"Go to sleep, Jus," Cam said, and he did.

Go on to Chapter 21-30