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How We Got Where We're Going

Allie

Disclaimer: All things QAF belong to CowLip. I take liberties but they own them, I don’t.
Characters: All Queer As Folk characters
Pairing: Brian and Justin
Warning: Entire Thing will be NC-17. Spoilers for like all Five Seasons.

XXIV - When You Need Me

"Accept everything about yourself--I mean everything. You are you and that is the beginning and the end--no apologies, no regrets."
~ Henry Kissinger ~

June 28, 2019 4:47pm

Brian's POV

When I finally step into the elevator it's earlier than I intended on leaving. Usually on Fridays I get home even later than usual, because I always like to tie up the loose ends before the weekend. As I walk out of the office building I am assaulted with thick humid air that makes me sweat almost instantly. Stepping to the curb, I adjust my laptop case and switch my briefcase to my left hand as I hail a cab. I glance up at the darkening sky…looks like rain. When a cab finally pulls up I get in and give the driver the address of the building as I set my laptop and briefcase beside me. I lean back against the hot leather seat as we pull into the beginnings of rush hour traffic. The noise of the city does little to distract me from my thoughts. I can't believe that Melanie and Lindsay thought it would be a good idea to bring along Michael, Ben, and Debbie. I don't know if Gus is ready for all that. I don't even know if he is ready to deal with Melanie and Lindsay. It's not so much an issue of them being there, it's the fact that they didn't give him a heads up. How hard would it have been to pick up the phone and just let us know that they were bringing Michael, Ben and Debbie? Not that fucking hard. Of course, it's not exactly like Gus has been honest with them. As far as I know he's been telling them how fucking great he's doing out here. If that's the case, why would they feel the need to give him a heads up? Whateverthefuck. They still should have called to at least let me or Justin know. I can only imagine Gus' reaction to everyone walking into his studio.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as my thoughts drift from Gus to Justin. I'd been so busy at work that I didn't even notice that he hadn't called me back, and now I can only wonder what happened. Was Amy unable to make a deal? Well, he didn't sign a fucking contract so they couldn't hold him to shit. The fact that Amy did something so…what had Justin said, unprofessional, is mind numbing. What the fuck was she thinking? I know what she was thinking, money. It always comes down to money and getting ahead in this town; no matter what business you're in. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Maybe Amy cut a deal or said it was an error on her part, but that didn't explain Justin's current state of mind. I know him. If he's in his studio throwing paint around it's not a good fucking thing. If it were me I'd have fired her ass, no questions asked. Justin isn't like that though. I know better than anyone how many chances he's willing to give someone. As he said, Amy's been his agent for twelve years. I know Justin's reluctant to throw that much history away, no matter how severe the transgression. I have half the mind to call Amy myself, but I know that would just piss Justin off even more, and now isn't exactly the time to increase his anger.

Christ, angry painting. It's been a few years since he's done that. I remember the first time I witnessed it, I had no idea what was going on. He was just so pissed off and honestly, it freaked me the fuck out. I remember I tried everything to calm him down. I tried talking to him, but he just told me to fuck off. I tried holding him, but he just pushed me away. He kept telling me over and over, "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." It reminded me of the days after he'd been released from the hospital after the bashing. It felt just like that. Eventually, I stopped trying anything and just sat back and waited. I sat on the couch in his studio watching as he painted a haphazard picture with his left hand. Later, at one of his shows, that painting sold for two thousand dollars. Still, having to watch him go through that and not being able to do anything was fucking difficult. I've always, whether consciously or unconsciously, taken care of Justin, and when I'm not able to it bothers me like nothing else. Later, he explained what had made him so angry. Over the years he's only angry painted a few times, but each time it's all come down to one core issue, the bashing. I don't doubt that this time will be any different. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to draw the connections of this shit with Amy to him being pissed off. It's all about what his limits are, what he's willing to admit to himself, and what he's willing to admit to other people about what he can or cannot do. This shit with Rauling's about the time frame and the scale has just brought it right up to his face in sharp focus.

"Mister?" I drop my fingers from the bridge of my nose just as the cab driver turns in his seat. "Hey mister?"

I look out the window and realize I'm at the building. I gather my briefcase and laptop, mumble thanks to the driver as I hand him a fifty, and exit the car. After I shut the door I look up at the building and take a deep breath before climbing up the stairs. I pause at the door and look inside. Everyone is standing in the middle of the gallery in a semi-circle. Melanie's arm is rubbing soothingly up and down Lindsay's back. Lindsay keeps wiping her hand across her cheeks. Ben and Debbie are standing side by side. JR, with Jesus pink hair, is leaning against Michael twisting her hair and biting her lip.

I try to school my irritation as I open the door, but before I even have on foot inside I hear myself asking, "What the fuck are you all doing here?"

Everyone turns around. Debbie's hands fly to her hips as she quips, "Hello to you too asshole."

"Brian!" Michael moves away from JR and walks over to me. He smiles up at me as he wraps his arms around my waist.

"Hey Mikey." I push him back gently. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

His smile fades slightly. "Well…we just all thought we'd surprise Gus and come see him while Mel and Linz were heading this way."

"Yeah well, you surprised him alright."

Michael shifts uncomfortably and looks as if he is about to say something.

"Brian?" I look over Michael and see Lindsay hesitantly making her way over to me. "Can I…" She tilts her head to the corner of the room and I nod. Michael smiles hesitantly at the two of us before returning to JR. When Lindsay and I are out of earshot of the others she places her hand on my elbow. She looks up at me with concerned red-rimmed eyes. I can tell she's been crying. "I think he panicked."

"What did you expect him to do?" I try to keep the sharp edge out of my voice, but fail.

"I don't know, Brian." She quickly wipes a tear from her cheek. "I guess not that."

I pinch the bridge of nose quickly and then sigh. "Look, he just wasn't expecting all of this." I gesture to the others. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"It was a last minute thing, Brian, and I thought…we thought he'd be happy to see us." There is a slight quiver in her voice.

"Hey." She brushes a tear from her face. I push the anger from my voice. "He's happy to see you, okay?" I'm not angry at her necessarily. I'm irritated that this situation has upset Gus.

"I know." She sniffles. "I thought…I…"

"Where is he?"

"In his studio…with Grady."

What the fuck? I raise my eyebrow. "With Grady?"

She nods. "Yeah, Grady came into the studio and asked us all very kindly to leave." She smiles up at me sadly. "He said Gus needed a few minutes and if we could just please wait downstairs." Her eyebrows draw together. "Is he Gus' boyfriend?"

"What? No. Gus doesn't…" I shake my head. What the fuck?

She crosses her arms over her stomach. "It's just…if he has someone…if Gus can…" She bites her lip and looks up at me with so much hope shining in her eyes that I have to look away. A loud bang comes from upstairs and Lindsay flinches. "That's been going on since we got here." I look down at her. "Justin's…"

"Angry painting." She nods. "Look you should go talk to Gus. Tell him why you didn't call him about everyone coming. He's not angry, he just gets…"

"I know." Her eyes shimmer. "He's not better."

I shrug. "Talk to him." Several loud bangs echo throughout the building. I adjust the strap of my laptop case. "I need to go."

I move to walk past her but she places her hand on my arm to stop me. "Is Justin okay?"

"No." I see no reason to lie. Her hand slides off of my arm as I leave her there and head upstairs.

When I reach the second floor I'm torn between going to Justin and walking down the hall to check on Gus. I look up, then down the hall, and sigh.


************************************

June 28, 2019 5:02pm

Gus' POV

I push myself up from the couch, cross the room, and light a cigarette. It's just my family. Fine, I know that. They love me, they care about me. I get that. The problem is that I wasn't prepared for it. I was prepared for seeing my moms and JR, not the others. It's not a matter of feeling uncomfortable in their presence. It's a matter of feeling overwhelmed by it. It reminds me of when I was in the hospital and day after day everyone would be there. They mean well, but sometimes my family is just too much. I take a drag of my cigarette and sit down at the table. For the last few weeks the only people I've been around are Dad, Justin…and Grady. I look over at him. He's leaning back on the couch, his pose making it appear as if he's relaxed, but I can see the tension in the way he's holding his shoulders, and the way his golden eyes are fixed on me. I wonder when I started noticing that kind of shit. I huff and look away from him.

"Do you want me to go?" He asks softly.

I shake my head and take a drag of my cigarette. Maybe I do want him to go. Maybe I want him to stay. Maybe right now I'm not exactly sure what the fuck I want. I just feel fucking overwhelmed. In a way it pisses me off that I feel like this, as if my emotions are a set of jacks that have been scattered across the floor and no matter how many times I try, I can't pick them up when I bounce the ball. They just keep slipping through my fingers. It's just my family. They love me. There isn't a reason to feel as if the world suddenly shifted to the left and I'm barely hanging on.

Taking a drag of my cigarette, I wince inwardly at the expression I saw on my Mom's face when she looked at me right before I left the room earlier. She fucking knew. She saw. I'd spent the hours since JR called with the flight information preparing myself to deal with their visit. I'd been mentally psyching myself up, trying to convince myself that I am okay, that I could be okay for just this one weekend, that I could do it…for them. Well, that plan went all to hell when my breath caught in my throat and I basically ran out of the studio. A loud clatter from upstairs makes me jump, and scatters my thoughts. Fuck. I don't know why, or where it even came from, but it upsets me, more than I thought possible, that Justin's up there angry painting. I'm not even sure what that is, but Grady said it isn't pretty. I have this irrational emotion that knots itself in my body whenever Dad or Justin is upset about something. I wonder if I've always felt like this. I realize that I have, but maybe not to this extreme. Maybe it's stronger from living with them, from seeing them everyday.

I look up just as Grady reaches for my cigarette and puts it out. I didn't even hear him approach me. He holds out his hand and I take it without a thought. He pulls me up and leads me back to the couch. When we sit down, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and I lean against him. This should make me feel nervous, or weird, or like this is wrong, but it doesn't. As much as I want to deny whatever this is that we have going on, I can't. I can't deny the comfort he's offering me. I can't deny that I need it, that I want it. He kisses my temple and runs his fingers through my hair. He doesn't ask me anything, he doesn't say anything, and I'm grateful for that.

"Gus?" I look up just as Dad walks into the room. I feel myself freeze under his gaze. Fuck. His eyebrow slowly moves up his forehead as he crosses his arms.

I push myself away from Grady and stand up. "Dad…"

We stand there looking at each other. I'm not sure what to say because I can't tell what he's thinking. I just wait for him to say something. His eyes move from me to Grady then back to me. "You alright?" He finally asks.

Stepping forward, I tell him, "Yeah…I…" I shrug. "I just wasn't expecting everyone to show up." I stop a few feet away from him. "Dad, stop glaring at him." I whisper.

His eyes move back to me. "Your Mom is probably going to come up here and talk to you."

"By herself?" A muffled shout comes from upstairs and we both look up. "Dad." He looks at me. "You should go…upstairs."

He glances back at Grady and then at me. "What's going on?"

"Dad…can we just not…you know…right now." I grab him by the arm and guide him toward the door. "Just go upstairs Dad." When we reach the door he turns back to me, his eyes interrogating me. It's unnerving. "Look Dad, he's just my friend." I shrug. "Can you just not give me another thing to freak out about right now?" His face softens at that. I know it's only a temporary reprieve, but I'll take it. I just don't know if I can answer any questions as far as Grady is concerned right now.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as we walk out into the hallway. He turns to me and drops his hand. "Look I…" He looks towards the stairs, furrowing his brows. He turns back to me. "Gus, I don't know how long we'll be."

"What do you mean?"

He shakes his head. "Sometimes it…takes him a while to…" He pauses as if he isn't sure how to explain it. Maybe he really doesn't know how to. "Look, we were going to take you, JR, and your moms to Mona's." He reaches into his suit pocket for his wallet. He opens it and hands me two one hundred dollar bills.

"Dad."

"No, go ahead and take them." He shrugs. "I don't know where everyone is going to stay. We only have one guest bedroom…but-"

I can tell that the more sounds that he hears coming from upstairs the more distracted and worried he's getting. "Dad, I'll take care of it."

He looks at me. "I know you're unnerved by everyone being here and-"

I shake my head. "Dad it's fine. I was just surprised, that's all." I'm lying to him. I'm lying right to his face, but I can't help it. I can tell that he's torn between helping me and going to Justin. "I'll be fine."

He sighs. "Okay." He nods his head again just as Mom comes up the stairs. He looks from me to her and back to me. "I don't know when we'll be home."

"Dad, it's fine. I'll handle it." I nod to the stairs. "Just go."

He grabs me by the back of the neck and presses our foreheads together. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will Dad." I say softly.

He pushes me back and looks over at Mom before walking towards the stairs. He stops and looks back at me. I nod toward the stairs. When he hesitates, I walk over and hug him. "Go Dad. It's fine," I say as I pull back. I can tell that he feels bad for not staying around to help me deal with this, but even I can tell that Justin needs him. He nods again before walking down the hall, grabbing his briefcase and laptop that he must have left there, and disappearing up the stairs. I guess Dad isn't so great at fixing everything when Justin's freaking out. Part of me wants to feel upset about it, but another part of me understands how things work when it comes to my dad. Maybe it should bother me that Justin comes before me, but I don't see it that way, after all it must have been hard for him to come to me first. I imagine his initial instinct was probably to go right to Justin, but he came to check on me first. I smile slightly at that. Justin has always told me, "Gus, it's the small things your dad does that mean the most."

I look over at Mom, who's smiling. I roll my eyes. "Come on." I say, turning my back and walking into the studio. I might as well get this over with.

 

***************************************

June 28, 2019 5:15pm

Brian's POV

I take the stairs two at a time, feeling like shit for leaving Gus to deal with the family. I stop and turn around. Maybe I should just go back down there and deal with them and then…"Fuck!" Justin's voice echoes down the stairs. I feel torn between going back to Gus and going up to Justin. I don't like the fact that it feels like I am choosing one over the other. I turn around and climb up the stairs. Hopefully Gus will be okay. He seemed okay…and Grady is with him. Christ, Grady. I shake my head, trying not to think too much about seeing Grady with his fucking arms over my son's shoulders, in a pose that looked far too comfortable for my liking. I don't even want to think about it right now. I'll think about it later…when I have less shit to worry about.

I approach the door to Justin's studio and lean against it to listen: a paint can hits the floor and sounds like a bowling ball as it rolls across the wood, the wet juicy sound of paint hitting a canvas filters into the hallway, the rough strokes of a brush, that same brush or a different one hitting the floor with a clatter, angry muffled words of a man hell bent on taking his frustrations out in the only way he's ever known how. I close my eyes for a brief moment, because seeing him like this is never easy. Watching him when he's like this, and knowing there is nothing I can do but wait it out, fucking blows.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and quietly enter his studio. The room is a mess, paint is everywhere, including on him. An overly large canvas is leaning against the wall. Its surface is almost completely covered in every shade of red, with violent echoes of black. It isn't fully formed, but I can see the reflection of his rage in the piece. Its Justin's insides poured out for anyone to see. He's fucking brilliant, even like this. I move over to the table, set my briefcase and laptop down, remove my suit jacket, and take a seat. I see the tension spread over his bare back that is covered in sweat and paint. I lean against the chair, watching as the muscles of his back tense and flex while he moves the brush over the canvas in long angry strokes. In the middle of a stroke he pauses for a fraction of a second. No one else would have even noticed it, but I did. It's the only indicator I'll get that he knows I'm here until he decides to talk. I lean forward in the chair and watch him. I can tell his hand is cramped by the way he's holding the brush; by the way his arm is twitching and quivering with each move he makes. He's doing his best to ignore it, but I can see the pain cross his face every time he runs the brush over the canvas.

I open my briefcase and go about setting up my laptop. I found that when he gets like this it's better if I have something to do. If I just had to sit here and watch him…well let's just say I'd be unable to stay away from him, and that would make things worse. I spread out my work on the table and glance over at him. His hand is shaking, but he doesn't stop painting. This, I think, is going to be a long night.


*************************************

June 28, 2019 5:23pm

Gus' POV

I pocket the money Dad gave me and walk into my studio. Mom follows quietly behind me. When I'm inside, I turn to the couch just as Grady is standing up. He looks from me to my mom, then back at me. "I'll just…" He reaches down and picks up his bag. I look over my shoulder at Mom before I cross the room. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't really know anything except that I don't want him to go. I don't want to…be alone. When I get to him I take his bag and set it on the floor. His eyes meet mine as they fill with unspoken questions.

I resist the urge to touch him. "Just stay, okay?" I say softly.

He looks at me for what feels like a long time before he nods. I attempt to smile at him before turning back towards Mom. She's by the computer looking through some of my photographs.

I walk over to her and she points to the picture of the sunrise as I approach. "This one is really good." She looks up at me smiling.

"That's what everyone says."

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow at her. She looks at me with soft apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry." She bites her lip. "We should have called and told you they were coming."

"Yeah, you should have." I pause. "Why did you have JR call me?" Her eyes widen as if that's the last thing she expected me to ask. "If you wanted to see me why didn't you just call and ask me? Why did you have JR do it?"

She looks away from me. "JR really wanted to-"

"Mom." She looks at me. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying. She really did want to see you." She takes a step forward. "It was her idea. She kept asking if we could come see you. I told her that she needed to ask you." She pauses. "Plus we wanted to see you too." She reaches up and brushes the hair back from my face.

"Mom." It's really hard to stay upset with her when she does that. She always makes me feel like a little kid, no matter how upset I may be.

She tilts her head to the side. "How are you?" It's my turn to look away. "Gus?"

I look back at her and before I can stop the words they are out of my mouth. "I remember the accident."

Her eyes widen and hope flashes across her face. "Gus."

Fuck. "Don't Mom. It doesn't mean anything."

"It does. It means-"

"No." I shake my head. "Don't."

She takes a step forward. "Gus." She pauses as if she's searching for the right words. "Gus, this can help you."

I scoff. "Help me what Mom? Get better? Move on? Forget?" I start to feel the panic rise up in me. I turn my back on her and look across the room at Grady. Our eyes meet and the panic subsides. "It doesn't mean any of that." Taking a deep breath, I turn back to Mom.

Tears fill her eyes. "But it might help." She says softly. "Has it?"

"No."

"But-"

I throw up my hands. "I'm not Justin, okay? I can't…" I feel the tightness in my chest. "You can't expect…" I take another deep breath. "Look Mom…" I don't know what to say. I can't even believe I told her. Why did I tell her? I shouldn't have said anything, because now she's looking at me as if a wall has crumbled from around me and her real son is back.

"Gus, it has to help." She reaches for me but I bat her hand away.

"Well it doesn't Mom. It doesn't help. It…" My voice starts to crack and shake. I know I'm barely hanging on by a thread. "It just makes it worse."

"Worse?"

I shake my head and take a deep breath. "Can we…not talk about this right now, okay?"

"But Gus-"

"What did you think would happen if I remembered, Mom? Did you think I'd be back to the same person I was?" I feel it coming and I feel powerless to stop it. "Did you think it would hurt less? Well it hurts more. He died Mom! He fucking died!" I swipe at the tears that slide down my face. I turn around and see Grady take a few steps towards me. "He's dead." I whisper. My eyes lock on Grady's.

"Oh Gus." She steps in front of me and wraps me in her arms before I can protest. "Gus." She holds me tightly to her. "I'm sorry."

I swear to god…five fucking years old. I close my eyes and open them slowly. I look over at Grady and mumble, "I'm trying."

"I know sweetie. I know. I'm sorry we expected so much." She pulls away from me and wipes the tears from my face.

"You can't expect me to be the same."

Her brows furrow. "No one expects you to be the same."

"They don't?"

"No. Where did you get that idea?" She cups my face in her hands. "We just want you to be happy again sweetie." She leans forward and kisses my cheek. "That's all we want, Gus."

She pulls back and smiles at me. It feels as if a weight as been lifted off of my shoulders, knowing that they don't expect me to be someone I can no longer be. I'd always thought they wanted that Gus…not this one. "Mom."

She wipes a stray tear from my face. "Honey, the only thing we ever wanted was for you to be better, in whatever way that's possible. We knew you wouldn't be the same. No one can go through what you did and not be affected by it." I look away from her. "That's what you thought? That we wanted you to be the same as before the accident." She wraps her arms around me again. "Oh sweetie. Gus I'm sorry if we made you feel like that."

I grip the back of her shirt, unable to say anything. I've always thought that's what they wanted. How did I not see before that they just wanted me to be happy again? How did I miss that they knew that everything that happened would always be a part of my life? How could I not know, not see?

She pulls back from me and brushes my hair back from my face. "You're still our son and we still love you no matter what." I nod. "Just…" She bites her lip. "Be happy sweetie, and live your life." She leans forward. "Ashley would want that for you too."

I can't stop my lip from quivering when she says that. "I know."

She wipes the tears from my face and smiles at me. "You'll get there sweetie." She smiles a little wider and I can't help but smile back. She pulls me back into her arms. I look over at Grady…yeah, I'll get there.


************************************

June 28, 2019 5:52pm

Brian's POV

"Fuck." I look up from my laptop at Justin just as his hand spasms and the paintbrush he is holding falls to the floor. Angrily, he kicks it aside and grabs another brush and starts painting, this time with his left hand. His right arm falls to his side, his hand clutched in a fist that I know is completely involuntary. I hate what he's doing to himself right now, and I feel fucking helpless. My cell phone vibrates across the table and I pick it up without taking my eyes off of Justin.

"Kinney."

"Hey Dad." He sounds better than he did earlier.

"Hey Sonny boy. Everything okay?"

"Yeah." He pauses. "Is Justin okay? We can still hear him down here."

I watch Justin throw the brush he was holding across the room and pick up another one. "He'll be alright."

He sighs. "Well…we're leaving. I'm taking everyone to Mona's like you said, and then they are going to stay at the SoHo Grand."

I furrow my brows. "They are?"

"Yeah, Grady can get them a discount since he works there."

I lean back in the chair. "Oh?"

"Dad…don't start okay?" He lowers his voice. "I told you he's just a friend."

For some reason I doubt that, but I don't say anything. "Are you going to stay with your moms?"

He laughs. "Um, no. After they check in I'm going to go back to the loft." He sighs. "Are you going to be home tonight?"

I can hear the worry in his voice. "I don't know. Don't worry." I say it softly so Justin won't hear me. "He'll be okay Gus."

"Alright Dad…I'll see you later then."

"Okay." He hangs up the phone before I can ask how he's going to get back to the loft. I'd prefer if he just stayed with his moms tonight at the hotel. The SoHo Grand. I shake my head as I set my cell phone down. Something is definitely going on with Gus and this Grady guy. I furrow my brow, not liking the idea that someone that used to have a hard-on for Justin is suddenly sniffing around Gus. I focus my attention back on Justin and watch as he picks up a can of paint. He looks at the canvas and then at the paint as if he's trying to decide if he wants to throw the whole thing on it. He shakes his head, sets the paint can down, and picks up a brush. I can see the anger slowly leaving him, but he's not ready to stop and he's not ready to talk. I return my attention back to my work as I continue to wait.


*************************************

June 28, 2019 10:07pm

Gus' POV

Dinner was…interesting. After Grady told everyone he could get them a discount at the hotel, they invited him to come to Mona's with us. It wasn't like I planned that, but it was nice. JR kept making faces at me all night and gushing over Grady. In fact, everyone seemed to like him, even Ma, and she doesn't really like a lot of people. I look over at Grady as he gets out of the cab. When he comes to stand next to me I tell him, "I could have made it back by myself."

He laughs. "Are you kidding me? Did you see that look your Ma gave me?" He shakes his head. "There's no way I could have not come with you." He smiles and steps towards me. "Besides, I wanted to."

I roll my eyes and push him away. I look towards the front entrance of the loft building. "Wanna come up?" He quirks his eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes. I grab him by the shirt and pull him towards the door. "Come on."

I have no idea what I'm doing, inviting him up to the loft. Alarm bells should be going off in my head, but…they're not. When we get into the elevator I look over at him and smirk. "I can't believe you and my mom got in an argument over Picasso."

He looks over at me and shrugs. "I can't help it if I don't think he's one of the best artists of all time." He smiles.

"Well, maybe he's not, but you didn't have to argue with her."

He laughs. "She didn't seem to mind." He shrugs. "She made some good points anyway." I study him for a minute. "What?" He smiles at me.

"Thanks…for today."

He nudges me in the shoulder. "You're welcome."

I laugh and roll my eyes. When the elevator stops, we get off and I take him to the loft. Once we're inside he lets out a low whistle. I close the door and look over at him. "You've never been here?"

"Uh, no." He shrugs and follows me as I walk to the kitchen. "Shit this place is nice." I look over at him before I open the refrigerator and get out two bottles of water. "I mean, I knew they had money, but…"

I shove a bottle of water into his hand and scowl. "It doesn't matter does it?"

"What? No." He opens the water and takes a sip. "I was just saying." I narrow my eyes at him. "Really, they could live in a cardboard box-"

I can't help it, I bust out laughing. "Okay, I can't see Dad and Justin living in a cardboard box."

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess not." He walks over to me and takes the water bottle that I haven't even opened out of my hands. His smile fades as he brushes the hair back from my face. "How did you feel, telling your mom about the accident?"

I shrug and look away from him. "I…didn't expect it to go like that." I look back at him. "I guess I was wrong about the whole thing."

He places his hands on my hips and pulls me slightly forward. "Are you glad you told her?"

"Yeah…I am." He leans forward, but I stop him. "Grady."

He steps back. "Sorry." I can see the hurt in his eyes.

I look at him for a minute and think about everything that has happened today, everything that has happened since I met him. I think about how I feel, how I could feel, how I should feel. I can feel that twinge of guilt still in my stomach, but at the same time I feel something else, something for him. Call it want, call it need, call it whatever you want, but it's there. I hold out my hand to him. He looks at me for a minute and then takes it. I try not to think about what I'm doing as I lead him down the hall to my room, but I can't help but think about it. I want him. That's just the truth. I want him and I can't deny it anymore.

Once we are in my room I release his hand and close the door. He looks around. "This is-" I see him spot his painting hanging on the wall. He looks at it, then back at me. "You bought it?"

I shrug as I toe off my shoes. I'd forgotten about the painting. "I liked it."

He walks over to stand in front of it. The only light shining in the room comes from the city lights. "Do you want to know when I painted this?" His voice is so quiet that I can barely hear him.

I take off my socks and walk over to stand beside him. "When did you paint it?"

He looks over at me. "The day after I met you." I open my mouth to say something, but the words don't come. Is he implying that…"Right after I met you I went home and started this piece." He shrugs. "I almost didn't put it in the show."

"Why?" I whisper, not really sure if I want to know the answer.

"Because…" He looks from the painting to me. "This painting is about you."

I glance at the painting. "Yeah." Now that he's said that, now that I know that, I can see it. Maybe that's what drew me to it in the first place. Maybe I knew that all along, but didn't want to admit it.

When I look back at him, he reaches up and caresses my cheek before bringing me forward into a kiss. I wrap my arms around him and press my body to his because I want him. I want him in ways that I haven't wanted anyone in a long time. I slide my hands under his shirt and press my palms against the smooth skin of his back. The heat and chemistry between us grows as our tongues slide against each other and our bodies press tighter together. I pull him with me as I walk us towards my bed.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss. "What?" I ask a little breathlessly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I reach for his shirt and pull it over his head. "Yeah." I toss his shirt aside. "I'm sure." Maybe I'm not really sure, but I can't deny this anymore…and maybe I don't want to.

I kiss him again, sucking on his bottom lip before pushing my tongue into his mouth. I break the kiss by pushing him down onto the bed. I remove my shirt as he kicks off his shoes. When he moves into the center of the bed I join him and straddle his waist. Just as I'm about to kiss him again he stops me. "What?"

His finger traces the long silver chain around my neck until he reaches the small silver key. "What's this?" His voice is soft and low.

I look down, watching as he fingers the key. I close my eyes as my guilt presses down on me. Fuck. I've worn it everyday for two years, and sometimes I forget that I even have it on. I mean, I know it's there, but it's like…it's like it's become a part of me. "It's…" I open my eyes and look down at him. "A key…to a lockbox." I huff out a half laugh, roll off of him, and lay back down on the bed, exhaling as I stare up at the ceiling.

Grady props himself up on his elbow. "What's in it?" He asks as his finger traces over the key that is now resting in the middle of my chest.

I look over at him. "Memories."

He looks up at me. "Of Ashley?" I nod. He looks down at the key and back up at me. "We don't have to do this." He says quietly.

I push him back on the bed and re-straddle his hips. "I want to." I lean forward and kiss him again, unable to stop my need for him, despite the guilt that hangs around my neck. I pull away from him, just enough that my lips graze his when I say. "I want you."

I sit back and grab the necklace. I am about to take it off when he stops me. "I don't want you to regret this."

I take the necklace off and set it on the nightstand. I try not to think about the fact that it's the first time I've taken it off since I put it on. I lean forward and kiss Grady on the lips. "I won't." I kiss my way down to his neck as his hands rub up and down my arms. "I won't." I whisper again. Whether that is the truth or not, I don't know. I'm tired of thinking about it, tired of overanalyzing everything. I want to be with Grady, and… I break the kiss and look over at the necklace on the nightstand, and I'm ready. I look back down at him, brushing the hair off his face. "I'm ready."


************************************

June 28, 2019 10:15pm

Brian's POV

"I was right." I look up from my laptop at Justin. His back is still to me, but he's no longer painting. He turns to me and I try not to cringe when I see the smear of red paint on the side of his face. "About Rauling's." He turns back to the painting. "They need a filler." He sets the brush down and looks at the painting. "This is crap." Quietly, I turn off my laptop and put my papers back in my briefcase. "I asked Amy why she did it." I close my briefcase and put my laptop away. "She said for the money, the notoriety." He scoffs. I lean back in the chair and look over at him. His voice is even and calm, the anger I expected is not there. "I told her if she couldn't make a deal with them that I was going to fire her." I raise my eyebrow at that because it surprises me. "I told her that I couldn't believe she did this." He shrugs. "I told her that out of all people…she should know what I'm capable of." I take a deep breath and wait. "And what I'm not." He sighs. "I told her she should know that I couldn't finish that many pieces in that short amount of time." Anger makes his words sharper. "I told her that she should know that I really can't…paint small scale anymore." His last words are gritted out between clenched teeth. "The fact that I had to admit that, even to her-"

"Pissed you off," I say softly.

He turns around to face me. "It's not like I don't know." He turns back to the painting. "I do know," he says quietly. I push myself out of the chair and walk over to him. "I do know," he says again, as if he's trying to convince himself. When he turns around again he steps forward into my arms. He presses his face into my chest and mumbles, "I do know."

I comb my fingers through his hair. "I know you do."

"She should know too."

"Yeah, she should. She does."

"It pisses me off." He pulls away and looks up at me. "The whole thing just got to me." I reach between us and take his right hand in mine. He looks down at it, then back up at me. "Hurts."

"I know." I say softly. I lead him over to the kitchen area. When we are by the sink I turn on the hot water. Once it's warmed up, I move him in front of me and place his hand under the water. I move my fingers over his hand as I work to help the muscles relax. I want to tell him that painting like this, letting his hand get like this, just because he's angry isn't the thing to do, but now isn't the right time to tell him that. As I work at uncurling his fingers I ask, "When is Amy suppose to let you know?"

"She didn't say." He leans back against me. "But I'm calling her tomorrow." When I stretch out his fingers he hisses. "Christ."

"Justin."

He shakes his head. "I know Brian."

I nod and return my attention to working out the cramp in his hand. When he is able to open and close it by himself, I turn off the water, turn him around to face me, grab a rag off the counter, and dry off our hands. Tossing the rag aside, I look him over. "You're covered in paint." I trace the side of his face with the tip of my finger. "This is disturbing." I say almost to myself.

"Yeah." He agrees even though he really doesn't know what I'm talking about. He fingers my shirt. "I got paint on you."

I look down and see red and black streaks on my white Armani shirt. I look up at him and our eyes meet. "Guess you'll just have to buy me a new one." I roll my tongue into my cheek.

He laughs softly and smiles up at me. "Yeah."

I cup his face between my hands. "You okay?"

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I will be." He shrugs. "I shouldn't let it bother me, but it still does."

I wrap my arms around him and pull him back to me. "Yeah, I know."

His arms circle my waist as he presses his cheek to my chest. "I didn't ask for this Brian."

"I know you didn't." I don't pretend to not know what he's talking about. I swallow hard because I know where this conversation is going.

He presses his body closer to mine. "Tell me about the dance."

I close my eyes. "Justin."

"I know Brian, but…tell me anyway." He pauses. "Please."

I tighten my embrace and lay my cheek against the top of his head. "You were beautiful." I kiss his temple. "You should have seen your face." I laugh softly. "You couldn't believe I showed up."

He presses tighter against me. "Then we danced."

"Yeah…then we danced."

He pulls back from me and looks into my eyes. "And we were amazing."

The corner of my mouth rises in a sad half smile. "Daphne said we were amazing."

He returns my smile and places his hands on my face. "Okay," he says quietly. "Okay." He takes a deep breath, steps back, and grabs my hand. "Come help me get all this paint off?"

I quirk my eyebrow at him. "Are you asking me?"

He tilts his head to the side and then he laughs. "No." He starts walking backward towards the bathroom, dragging me with him.


*****************************************

June 28, 2019 10:35pm

Gus' POV

Now that we are both naked, I pull away from Grady and look at him. He's fucking beautiful, more so than I thought he would be. He's lean and muscular, but not overly so. Spread out against the white sheets of my bed in the semi-darkness, his skin looks even more golden. I lay between his legs and kiss him. Being the same height makes our bodies fit together almost perfectly so that when I press my hips down to his, our cocks slide against each other. We both moan as our hips move together. I remove my lips from his mouth, sliding them across his jaw, down his neck, over his chest and taut stomach. His fingers curl into my hair when he feels my hot breath on his cock, which is beautiful in and of itself. I look up at him as I flatten my tongue over the head of his cock. He arches his neck into the pillows and moans softly. I lap the pre-come off the head before running my tongue down his shaft and back up again. He tastes even better than I imagined he would. When I reach the top of his cock I slide my lips over it and take him into my mouth. His hips jerk up automatically, so I press my hands against him to keep him still. I suck gently on the head of his cock as I press my tongue flat against the underside where the head and shaft meet, applying steady pressure. I lightly run the tips of my fingers over his shaft and his balls before taking him further into my mouth. His fingers curl almost painfully in my hair. "Gus." I work him in and out of my mouth a few times before kissing my way back up his body. When our mouths meet again the kiss is hungrier, needier. Vaguely, I hear the rain that's been threatening all day tapping against the window.

I break the kiss and press my lips to his ear. "Are you a top or a bottom?" I whisper, thinking maybe this is something I should have asked before now.

He huffs out a laugh as his hands stroke my back. "Bottom."

"Good." I press my lips against his pulse point. "That's good." I pull back from him and look down into his eyes before reaching over to open the drawer of the nightstand. I pull out a bottle of lube and a condom.

He laughs. "Prepared." He mumbles. I want to tell him, well I am my father's son, but I doubt he really needs to know that. I just smile at him as I set the condom aside and spread lube over my fingers. His eyes darken as I press my slick fingers over his hole. "Fuck."

"In a minute." I whisper as I press my lips over his nipple. His laugh turns into a moan as I suck his nipple into my mouth and press the tip of my finger into his hole. I work my finger in him until he's open enough for me to enter the second one. I cut off his moan by covering his mouth with mine. His fingernails press into my back as my fingers move in and out of him. Christ he's tight.

He rips his mouth away from mine. "Gus, come on." He kisses my neck and I nod. I remove my fingers and reach for the condom. I sit back as I open it, roll it on, and slick it with extra lube. I want it to be smooth when I finally enter him. I press my hands on either side of him and line up my cock.

I press the head of my cock against his hole and our eyes meet. "Ready?" He nods his head. I push into him slowly as I lean down to kiss him again. He opens up for me and I slide in until my balls are pressed against him. "Christ." I press my forehead to his shoulder. His legs wrap around me as I give him a chance to adjust to me.

"Gus. Gus." He moans as he starts to rock his hips. Fuck.

Slowly I begin to move in and out of him. "So tight." I whisper as I press my lips to his neck. I pull myself away from his body as I quicken my strokes. When the head of my cock starts to hit his prostate with each stroke, he arches his back and moans louder. Christ. I unwrap his legs from around my waist and push them up to my shoulders. When I thrust into him harder and deeper he grips the sheets. Each time I thrust he tightens his ass around me, and I know I won't last much longer. When he starts meeting me stroke for stoke I feel my balls tighten. I reach between us and take his cock in my hand. His head is thrown back. "Grady." I pant. "Grady, look at me."

He pries his eyes open; they are darker than I've ever seen them. "Gus…I'm…" His eyes flutter and then he comes. When he does his ass tightens around me and in a few more strokes I come hard into the condom. His legs fall from my shoulders as I drop down on top of him, both of us breathing heavily. I kiss his neck as his arms wrap around me. After my breathing regulates, I wrap my fingers around the end of the condom and slowly pull out of him. Rolling onto my back I remove the condom, tie it off, and throw it into the trash. Grady moves towards me. I wrap my arm around his shoulders as he presses his cheek against my chest. It almost feels surreal.

"You okay?" He asks quietly.

I run my fingers through his hair and I give that simple question a lot of thought. I've just had sex for the first time in two years. I had sex with someone who isn't Ash. Am I okay? I reach down and pull the covers over us. When we are settled back against the bed I finally answer him. "Yeah." He lifts up his head and looks me in the eyes. "I'm good."

He presses his cheek back against my chest. He lays his hand flat against my stomach. "No regrets?" He asks softly.

I give that question some thought too. I think about what it will be like tomorrow when I wake up and he'll be here. I think about what this means to me, what it means about him and me. I look over at the window watching the rain streak down the glass. "Not a one." I say and I'm almost surprised that I mean it.


********************************

June 28, 2019 10:45pm

Brian's POV

I press into him and wrap my fingers around his hips. His body moves with mine automatically. The warm water slides down our bodies as we move together. I love fucking him in the shower. Justin pushes back into me and places his hand on my thigh, digging his fingers into my skin. I press my lips to his neck. "What?"

"Brian," he moans as I press my cock against his prostate.

I snap my hips and increase the speed of my thrusts. "Is that what you want?" I lick the water from between his shoulder blades as I push into him harder and deeper.

"Yes." He throws his head back. "Yes." He moans.

I wrap my arm around his waist to keep him steady as I reach for his cock and start to stroke it in time with my thrusts. When his ass tightens around my cock I know he's close. I press my lips to his ear. "Come for me Justin."

He arches his back and comes hard, bringing me along with him. I kiss his neck and wrap both of my arms around him. He leans back against me. Slowly I pull out of him and turn him towards the water. He smiles up at me before wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling me down for a kiss. When he pulls back he whispers, "Thanks."

"For what?"

He shrugs. "For being here."

I nod and reach for the bottle of shampoo. He drops his arms from around my neck as I pour some of the shampoo in my hand, set the bottle back on the shelf, and start to wash his hair. "Mmm." He closes his eyes. I swear he's such a slut for me washing his hair. His eyes snap open. "Fuck."

I raise an eyebrow and move him under the water to wash away the shampoo. "What?"

"Mel and Linz are here. I completely forgot."

I scoff. "And Mickey, the Professor, and Debbie."

"What?"

"Surprise." I roll my tongue into my cheek and reach for the soap.

"Shit, how did Gus take that?"

"He was unnerved by it at first, but when he called me before they left here he sounded fine."

He shakes his head as I run the soap over his chest. "I should have been down there."

I set the soap aside and move him under the water. "He handled it." I can already see him blaming himself for not being there when Gus was on the verge of a panic attack. I place my fingers under his chin and lift his head. "He's fine."

"Yeah, okay." He turns and shuts off the water. When we are out of the shower and toweling off he asks, "Are they all staying at the loft?"

I scoff. "No. It seems Grady got them all a discount at the SoHo Grand."

"Grady?"

I hang up the towel on the rack and reach for my pants. "Yeah." I turn to him as I pull up my pants. "I think something is going on between him and Gus."

His mouth drops open. "What?" He laughs and opens the small closet in the bathroom. He pulls out a pair of sweats and puts them on. "That's…" He looks over his shoulder at me as he reaches for a t-shirt. "Why do you think that?"

I slip on my paint stained shirt and button it. "I saw them…cuddling on the couch in Gus' studio."

He turns around, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline. "You're kidding?"

"I fucking wish."

"Wow." He shrugs. "Well…" He shakes his head. "Did you ask Gus about it?"

I cock my eyebrow and hold out my hand. Justin places his hand in mine and we walk out of the bathroom. "Yeah, he told me they're just friends."

"Christ." I look down at him. Our eyes meet. "You don't think…"

I lead him over to the table and release his hand as we both put our shoes on. "I don't want to think about it at all, actually."

When we both have our shoes on, I reach for my briefcase and laptop and Justin slings his messenger bag over his shoulder. I reach for his hand again and we leave the studio, turning off the lights and locking the door. When we exit the building there is a slight drizzle. As I hail a cab Justin looks up at me. "Well…Grady isn't a bad guy."

I glare at him as a cab pulls up to the curb. "He's too old for him."

Justin laughs as he gets in the cab. When I get in beside him he gives the driver our address. "You're kidding right?"

I look over at him and smirk. "I was trying it out."

He laughs and leans against me. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and kiss his temple. "Yeah, I'm afraid we won't ever be able to use that one." He presses his hand against my stomach and yawns. "Maybe they are just friends."

I look out the window. "Maybe." I nudge Justin and he looks up at me. "You okay?"

He smiles at me. "Yeah." His smile fades and his brows furrow. "I'm still pissed at Amy though."

"Yeah, well that's justifiable." I brush his bangs away from his face. "We'll deal with whatever happens."

"I know." He leans his head against my shoulder. "I'll call Rauling's myself if I have too."

"You know I think you should fire her anyway right?"

He sighs. "Yeah, I know."

I let it go at that. He doesn't need me to tell him what he should do. Hopefully when he calls Amy tomorrow she'll have worked a deal with Rauling's…and if not…well I hope he does fire her ass. She's fucking with more than just her career, and I won't sit on the sidelines if it comes down to fucking up Justin's. If things don't get taken care of she'll be hearing from me, regardless of what Justin decides to do. When the cab pulls up to the loft I nudge Justin and we gather all our shit and get out. It's been a long fucking day, and I just want to get some fucking sleep.

When we get into the elevator Justin leans against me again and yawns. "Tired." He mumbles. "Mmm…is Gus staying at the hotel?"

When the elevator stops we get off and walk toward the loft. "No, he said he was coming back here, but I hope he changed his mind and stayed."

We enter the loft and set our respective bags by the door. I lock up and set the alarm. Justin reaches for my hand and we walk down the hall. "Let's just check to see if he's here."

We stop in front of his door and Justin slowly opens it. "Is he there?" Justin closes the door and looks up at me with wide eyes. "What?"

"Yeah…he's in there." I raise my eyebrow. "With Grady."

"With…" I reach for the door, but he stops me.

"Leave them." He tugs at my hand and pulls me down the hall. "Let's deal with it in the morning."

I look over my shoulder at Gus' door. Yeah, I'll deal with it alright. I scoff as Justin leads me into our bedroom and closes the door. Just friends my ass.

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