Title: Christmas Presents

Author: Simon

Pairing: Justin/Brian, natch

Rating: PG-13 language

Summary: Brian gives Justin a present he was hoping for

Warnings: none

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Christmas Presents

Later that night, around twelve thirty, after the house had gone to sleep and they had made love as quietly as they could. Afterwards, Justin lying across Brian's chest raised himself up slightly and looked down at his lover.

"You told me that you were going to Deb's and wanted to see Gus. Was that all bullshit or did you just change your mind yesterday or something? How long have you been planning to surprise me?"

Instead of the snarky answer he expected, Brian spoke softy, without sarcasm. "I've been planning this for a while now and your mother was in on it, too."

"Why?" Justin still wasn't used to Brian going out of his way for him. He knew that he had done it countless times in the last few years, but somehow, it still caught him unawares.

"I thought that it would make you happy, you twat." Justin flashed one of his smiles, even in the darkened room with just a single candle burning, Brian could see it. Damn, it was something.

"I didn't bring your Christmas presents with me. I didn't know you'd be here."

"That's OK. It's Christmas now, isn't it?"

Justin turned his head enough to look at the clock on the nightstand. "Um-hmm. Why?"

"I have one for you, a present, and I want it to be just us without the others around in case it's not what you want."

That was an odd thing to say, even for Brian. "You know I'll like whatever you get me..." He stopped. No, that wasn't really true when he thought about it. There had been that birthday present that had helped push him over the edge to Ethan. He amended himself, "Well, I'll probably love it."

There was a hesitation while Brian seemed to consider something then he swung himself out of the bed that was too small for the two of them and found something in his bag. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he handed it to Justin. It was a small box and Justin stared at it. "...Brian..."

"I thought that, if you would like, we would go up to Vermont to that Inn we were going to stay at last time. I thought that we could get married while we're there—if you want to." Justin could see the tension in the way Brian sat beside him, in the set of his shoulders and the expression on his face.

"Are you sure about this? You said that you'd never..."

"I've changed my mind."

Sitting up, Justin removed the wrapping paper from the velvet box and opened the hinged lid. Inside were the two matching rings.

He looked at Brian. "But why? You said that you'd never want to do this. You said that only heteros and lesbians get married.'

"Yeah, well, I almost lost you twice and I want to—try not to go around that block again." He brushed the longish hair out of Justin's eyes. "Look, I know that there will still be arguments and shit, but I want us together. I thought that you did, too." Brian had expected one of Justin's drama queen responses, tears maybe or laughter, maybe throwing himself into Brian's arms or even having the box thrown at his head. He hadn't thought there would be this silence and stillness from the boy. "Justin?"

He took a breath, turning to Brian, sliding his arms around his neck and kissing his neck, holding them closely pressed together. "Yes, I want this. I want to marry you. I want us to get married." was whispered against his skin.

"Your mother is concerned that you're to young to make this kind of decision. If we do this up in Vermont, it will be binding. It's not like the munchers ceremony. This will stand up in court. If something happens, whether we break up or something happens to one of us, legally it will be just like any other couple. It's not just a question of taking your shit and moving out. You have to understand this."

Justin pulled back a few inches so that he could see Brian's face. He nodded. "I do understand that. It's what I want for us and it's what I want with you." Leaning they kissed gently, their arms still around one another. The kiss deepened, their tongues touched and they were exploring already familiar mouths, their chests pressed against one another, their skin rubbing and causing the friction they both found so erotic.

"Wait."

"What?" Brian's voice was slightly exasperated, he was just about to push Justin over and take him.

"I haven't seen the rings yet."

"Oh, Jesus. They're gold, they're round."

Ignoring him, Justin took one out and held it close to the candle so that he could see the design.

They were fairly narrow and simple in keeping with Brian's ideas about clean lines. There was a subtle pattern hammered into the gold to give a bit of texture, but nothing more. They were understated, almost plain yet still managing to be unique. Inside there was some engraving, but the light wasn't strong enough for Justin to make out what was written.

"It's just our names. Do you mind that they're not more elaborate? We can get different ones made if you'd prefer." Brian seemed nervous about his answer, like the time he had offered to help launch Rage to make up for ruining the work he and Mikey had done.

"No. These are perfect. I like that they're simple. It's almost like they don't need to shout, they just sort of know." He started to put it on his finger, but Brian stopped him.

"No. Not until I put it there. It's bad luck."

"...Brian?" He almost laughed, but controlled himself.

"Irish custom." He wasn't kidding.

"So, we're engaged?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Justin's smile spread. "Is it a secret?"

"Your choice, but I'd wait til at least dawn to break the news to the rest of the household." He rolled Justin over onto his back, spreading the boy's legs with his knees and tearing open a condom package that had been put in the nightstand drawer. Taking it from him, Justin rolled in on and lay back.

"Like this, so I we can watch each other." They began kissing one another, rubbing their bodies together and stroking up and down with their hands. It wasn't more than a few minutes before Brian was pushing inside, Justin's legs around his waist, moving together and feeling the third shared orgasms of the night as they pulsed through each of them in turn. Pulling apart, still kissing, they spooned together on the too small mattress and slept the few hours until morning.

By seven Molly was knocking at their door and walking in without waiting for a response. At least the blankets were up to their waists. For a twelve year old she was pretty sophisticated, but there were limits.

"Hey, C'mon, get up. It's Christmas."

Justin just mumbled, but Brian managed a fairly coherent 'fuck off'.

"No, get up. The presents are all there. Everybody's awake."

"Molly, fuck off for at least another hour."

"You wouldn't talk to Gus like that."

"Like Hell I wouldn't. Fuck off for another hour."

Justin tried another tact. "Molly, we're still tired. Maybe you could go away for a while so we can get some more sleep."

"Yeah, right. Like I believe that you're going to be sleeping."

"Fuck off."

An hour and a half later they made they way down to the kitchen to find everyone else waiting for them. After one glance at Brian's still bleary eyes, his grandmother handed him a coffee cup. "How do you take it?"

"Sugar."

"Merry Christmas, boys. Would you like something to eat? We have eggs and I think there's still some yogurt left. Justin, I know you like pancakes and they're ready to go as soon as I pour the batter on the griddle."

The two men exchanged a look. "Bri? Do you mind if I tell them?"

He gave a half smile and shook his head. "If you want."

"Brian and I are getting married. He asked me last night. We're going up to Vermont in a couple of days, he's arranged everything."

After a brief silence Claudia put her arms around her grandson, squeezing hard and kissing his cheek. "Sweetie, I think that's wonderful. Grandpa and I are as happy as we can be for both of you."

Bill put his hand on Brian's shoulder, rubbing a bit. "You two be happy together, you hear me? I know you had a hard road to get here, so you enjoy it now that you've arrived."

He spoke quietly, without sarcasm. "Thank you, Bill. I think that it will be alright."

He nodded his agreement and probably the hope that Brian was right. "Good."

The rest of the breakfast consisted of talk of the ceremony and the plans that Brian had made, the party that Jen would have for their friends when they got back to Pittsburgh and whether they would tell the rest of the family later that afternoon. The consensus was that was that it would be fine and the others would be happy that Justin had found someone.

Finally, Molly as excited as the rest of them, reminded them that there was a Christmas tree's worth for presents waiting for them. Brian and Justin sat next to one another, Justin sometimes leaning over to kiss Brian's mouth or cheek and radiating happiness to whoever looked at him. The gifts turned out to be an anticlimax after the breakfast announcement, but the sweaters and books and computer software were all oohed and aahed over, as they would be any other year. Afterwards, everyone settled into that midmorning Christmas slump common to all families, the women going to the kitchen to start the day's dinner, Bill watching a football game, Justin helping to cut vegetables and Brian looking through a book of prints by Richard Avedon that he's been given.

Bill turned the game off and asked Brian if he would mind joining him in the study for a few minutes. Taking their beers with them, Bill closed the door behind them.

"I hope you don't mind my asking you in here like this, but with Justin's father out of the picture, I guess that it falls to me."

"Are you going to ask me about my prospects, Bill?" He had the ghost of a laugh on his face.

It was returned. "Only if you want to go into them. From what I've gathered, you could probably buy me out, so I suspect that you'll manage to make ends meet—even knowing how Justin can spend money."

"I do alright."

"I know you do, that's not what I wanted to talk with you about. Look, I think you realize that all we want is our grandson's happiness and Claudia and I—and Jennifer too for that matter—believe that with you he'll be with someone he loves who loves him back. That's more than a lot of people have."

"There's a 'but' coming here, isn't there?"

"Have you given any thought about what might happen if you two break up or if, God forbid, something should happen to you? You're over a decade older than Justin is and from what I gather he's already left you once." Brian gave the old man one of his glares. "I know, no one likes to think about that sort of thing, but only an idiot or a starry eyed teenager goes into marriage, especially one like this, with their eyes closed. You're obviously neither of those things."

"I've already made arrangements so that Justin is taken care of in my will, he's listed on my insurance as well—all of that sort of thing will become effective as soon as the wedding takes place. The papers are with my lawyer." He paused, sipping his beer and forming his thoughts. "Justin left me once and then I almost lost him when he was hurt. If he were gone for whatever reason, I know that I would grieve but I would like to think that I would be able to move on whether whatever it was happened either to him alone or to us a couple. Although, come to think of it, that's probably the same thing at this point."

Bill nodded. "That's you, what about Justin if the situation becomes reversed? Yesterday Jen thought that you had gone down on that plane. You saw Justin's reaction when he heard about that other flight that was lost. Have you considered how young he is? Barely twenty."

"...Are you suggesting that we shouldn't be together because I'll probably die first?"

"No, of course not. I'm just hoping that you've given this some thought. And another thing. I understand that you have a young son?"

"That's right."

"What would your reaction be should Justin decide that he wanted to have his own child?"

"I think my conceiving is a long shot."

He ignored the sarcasm. "Would you be willing to agree to something like that?"

"That would be between me and Justin. If he decides at some point that's what he wants, we'll discuss it then."

Bill nodded, Fair enough. "I hope you won't be offended by my bringing this up, but I understand that you're not close to your own family. You do know that we won't allow you to attempt to estrange Justin from us."

Brian sat back in the wing chair he was in and looked at Bill before replying. "My family and I have pretty much disowned one another. I don't know what Jen has told you, but I don't think there are any circumstances under which that will change. Justin knows this." He took another drink of beer. "I know how important you all are to Justin. I wouldn't do anything to change that. I saw how much his father hurt him a couple of years ago. I won't add to that."

"May I ask what the problems are with your family? I don't want to intrude, but since he's so family orientated, it could affect Justin."

"I don't usually talk about this, but I think you do have some right to know what Justin will be exposed to." Brian spoke in a calm monotone, as though reciting a recipe. "My parents didn't want kids. I was allowed to be born because my mother was afraid that if she got the abortion my father demanded, she wouldn't be able to go to confession or receive communion. My parents were both drunks. My father used to hit me whenever the mood struck, which was every few days. I largely moved out when I was fifteen. By the time I was seventeen, I was supporting myself. A couple of months before he died from cancer, when my father found out that I'm gay, he told me that, in his opinion, I should be the one who was dying. When my mother found out she told me that I'm going to Hell. We're not close."

"I'm sorry."

A ghost of a smile. "That which does not kill me makes me stronger."

"How badly were you beaten?"

"I knew the emergency room attendants pretty well. I had friends I could go to who looked after me. It wasn't all bad. I got scholarships to school, I made Varsity. I got through it." He gave a slight shrug. "I've done alright."

"How much of this do Justin and Jen know?"

"I don't know. I haven't told them any of it. Others might have, we've never discussed it."

"No wonder Craig barely ruffled your feathers."

Brian laughed. "Craig is a lightweight."

Bill liked that. "Yeah, he is. Always has been, I'm just glad that Jen finally got away from him. What he did to the boy is inexcusable."

"It's common enough, his reaction, I mean. I think that Justin is resigned to it now."

"He might be, but he's still young and it's difficult for him. Jen told me what you did for him after he was hurt. We're grateful to you for that."

"I didn't do that much."

"Fine, I'll drop it." The phone on the desk rang once then stopped, someone must have picked up one of the other extensions. "I just wanted you to know that Claudia and I are behind you two. So long as you're good for our grandson, you'll be welcome."

Brian nodded. And when they decided that he wasn't good for Justin anymore, he could go to Hell. Fine, whatever. "Thanks, Bill."

"I've kept you long enough. You go on out with Justin."

Jesus. "I'll see you later." He got up, let himself out and was immediately hit by the tension in the living room. Justin was on the phone, angry.

"...I don't give a shit what you think...we are. We're getting married in a few days and you can fuck yourself...It's completely fucking legal and I'm old enough that you can't do a Goddamned thing to stop us...Fine. That's your choice."

He was about to slam the phone down when his mother took it from him and looked a 'calm down' at him. "Craig...stop shouting or I'll hang up.... that's better. Now just stop this...Justin's right, it's legal in Vermont and all the blood tests and licenses are in order...One day this coming week, I'm not sure...I've known for a few weeks now...why on earth would I tell you? Listen to how you're reacting now..."

Brian had walked over to where Justin was listening to Jen's end of the conversation and put his arms around him, feeling the fury and outrage in the smaller body. "He wouldn't even try to understand."

"Of course not. He can't and doesn't want to."

"He's here because my parents and I invited him...Because he's about to become a member of our family...That's enough...There's nothing you can do to stop it. Both of them is of legal age and I won't do anything to stop them...Because they love each other. Why else does anyone get married?...Craig, just stop that. I'll talk to you tomorrow when you've had a chance to calm down." She hung up and looked at Brian and Justin over by the window.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry, but he'll come around."

"No he won't and fuck him." Brian was still holding him. "He said that if he'd known this was going to happen he would have been sure to kill you with his car when he had the chance."

Brian and Jennifer exchanged a look over Justin's head. "C'mon." Taking his hand, Brian took him upstairs to the small guestroom they'd been given.

Justin sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't want to fuck."

"That's a first." Brian tried a small smile. "I know, just talk." He knelt on the floor between his legs, his hands resting lightly on Justin's thighs. "He's not going to accept us, you know that. If you want him to become dear old Dad again, all you have to do is play the hetero game and he'll welcome you back with open arms. Just tell him that you've realized that it was just a teenaged phase and now you know that what you really want is to marry Daphne and knock her up and you'll be set."

"Brian—he's my father. I know yours was a shit but I miss mine and I want to be able to be with him once in a while, talk to him."

Brian reached up and kissed him gently. "I know. But he's also the asshole who tried to kill me and threw you out. He's screwed your mother in the divorce and he's pulled your college fund, which, I point out, he didn't even pay for. Your mother told me that came from your grandparents for shit's sake."

"Yeah, but, he's..."

"I know. He's still your father. Look, he's a homophobic asshole who doesn't give a crap about you unless you toe his fucking line. Did you really think he'd be happy for us—for you—at the prospect of wedding bells and matching tuxes? That's not going to happen, especially if I'm who you're with and you fucking know that as well as I do."

Justin sat in silence, looking at Brian's face, the hard lines and the anger.

"He's trying to force you into a Goddamned choice—either me and purgatory or him and deliverance. That's fucked and if you have a problem making this decision, you need to rethink the fucking trip to Vermont this week, my little bride to be." Brian stood up, looked down at Justin for a moment then left the room.

Justin heard Brian go downstairs then heard him talking with his mother, though he couldn't make out what they were saying.

Brian hated Craig. OK, he had reason to, but, shit.

Shit.

Fine, Brian was right as far as he was willing to go, but he'd never had a relationship with his own father and had no idea what he had missed out on. Maybe, eventually Craig would come around. OK, he'd probably never really like Brian, but maybe he'd tune down the actual hatred he had going.

Yes, he wanted to go to Vermont, he wanted to marry Brian more than anything, and he would.

Brian just had to understand that he wouldn't give up hoping that he and his father could be friends again.

He heard the doorbell. Fuck. His cousins were here. Fine. Whatever. Going into the bathroom to throw some water on his face, he toweled himself off and went down.

There was the usual bustle of arrival; presents handed over to be placed under the tree, plates with desserts on them for the kitchen, greetings and hugs. Brian wasn't in the hallway. He was likely in the living room to not intrude on the welcome. Besides, he probably wanted a couple of minutes to cool down. He'd be introduced soon enough. Did they know about him? Everyone had heard over the last couple of years that he was gay. They had probably even heard about Brian, one way or another. Time they met him.

"Dave, Sally, Barb—you guys look great." "Come on, I'll take your coats." "How are the roads today?" "Yes, Brian is here—you know, Justin's friend." "I love your dress." "Don't stand here—come in, come in."

The older group headed to the kitchen where the snack food and the drinks were waiting while the younger members of the family headed to the living to get away from the adults. It briefly occurred to Brian to wonder which side of the hall he should be on. He sat on the living room couch, Justin beside him and holding his hand.

"Everyone? This is Brian. Brian, these are my cousins, Dave, Barbara and Sally. Tom couldn't make it, he left to go skiing two days ago."

"Aren't you the guy who showed up at Justin's prom when he got hit?"

"Yeah, thanks, asshole. Brian is the one who called the ambulance and took out the shit who bashed me."

"Your father still not speaking to you?"

"Yeah—we had another argument today on the phone." He glanced at Brian. "He found out that Brian and I are getting married this week and he flipped out."

"Married!...No way—Justin what are you shitting us?"

"I asked Justin to marry me last night. I've already made the arrangements. It's legal up in Vermont so I think we're driving up day after tomorrow."

"So how come we're not invited, you fuck?"

"No one is invited, it's going to be just us and then Mom is having a party for us when we get home."

"So this can be like your engagement party."

"Barb, fuck off, please."

He'd had enough. "I'm thirsty." Brian stood up and headed toward the kitchen leaving the under twenties to talk amongst themselves.

"Brian, here you are. Helen and Ken were asking about you. This is my sister, Helen and her husband—Brian is Justin's friend." Jen was playing hostess. "Can I get you anything?"

"JB, straight up, thanks."

Ken shook his hand, Helen stared at him, impressed by his looks and his body. Yes, he did look good, there was no denying that. Jennifer looked worried that he might decide to get drunk.

The evening went on from there. Brian feeling alternately like a caged display and ignored. His mood became worse and the only good thing that could be said was that he kept his mouth shut rather than voice his opinions.

Justin held his hand and sat close to him when he could, Brian played along for the sake of the relatives—for once in his life.

Finally, after the large turkey had been eaten, the presents opened and the dessert largely consumed, the cousins left for home, loudly saying how they had enjoyed meeting Brian and how they looked forward to hearing how things went in Vermont.

Brain was helping to clear some dishes when Jennifer took him aside. "Please, will you at least think about what I said earlier?"

Controlling his temper, Brian answered, "This is bullshit. He's had over two years to get used to it and hasn't made a fucking inch of progress as far as I can see. Putting it off won't make any difference."

"It might. I'll talk to him and my father said that he'd try, too. You know how important this is to Justin."

"What's so important to me?" Justin was standing in the study doorway.

"Oh, it's nothing, sweetie."

"Your mother has asked me to put off our getting married for a few months or a year so that your father can adjust to the idea."

"Mom—that's—."

"Craig will never come around, you know that. Even if he accepts that Justin is gay, he still hates me as the pervert who corrupted his son."

"Just give us a chance to talk to him, try to make him see reason."

"Do you think that there's a possibility? Brian, if he might change his mind, maybe we should just give it some time."

Brian looked at Justin, seeming to weigh what had just happened and fed up with trying to appease a man who wouldn't be appeased. "He won't change his mind about me. Ever. We all fucking know that. I'm leaving here tomorrow night. If you want to, we'll go to Vermont. If you don't, I'll go back to Pittsburgh and you can do what ever the fuck you want."

TBC

4/20/03

Title: Christmas Presents, Chapter 2

Author: Simon

Pairing: Justin/Brian, natch

Rating: PG-13 language, some mufky-fufky

Summary: Brian gives Justin a present he was hoping for

Warnings: none

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Christmas Presents

Chapter Two

Christmas night, everyone had gone up to bed at least an hour ago except for Brian and Justin who were sitting alone on the couch in front of the fireplace in the living room. The lights from the Christmas tree were still on and cast a soft glow from the opposite corner.

The scene was peaceful, romantic and perfect.

The two men were at loggerheads.

They weren't touching and were, in fact, sitting at opposite ends.

"I told you, I do want to go. I do want to marry you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"But not until you fucking father approves."

"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?"

"And why are you being such a twat about this"

"I'm not being a twat. I love my father and I want to reestablish a relationship with him. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Brian gave him a long look. "Fucking see what you can up with as an answer to that one, Sunshine."

"Yeah, I know. Monster Jack. My father isn't like that. You've never really had a chance to get to now him and he's great—he's ..."

"He fucking tried to kill me, he sucker punched me then tried to kick the shit out of me. He's taken away you college money, he's fucked over your mother and your sister and he's declared you a degenerate. What a fucking prince."

"If he had a chance to meet you..."

"He's met me. I didn't notice us hitting it off."

"Goddamn it..."

Brian had enough. He stood up, prepared to go upstairs for the night. His voice was calm, controlled and quiet. "Justin. That's enough. I'm through arguing about this same fucking thing. Either you want to come to Vermont with me tomorrow night so we can get married or you don't. I'm tired of jacking around with this."

"Brian—he's my father..."

"Well, Sunshine, you're going to have to decide whether you want to be his son or my husband."

Justin heard him go up the stairs, followed by the guestroom door closing.

Shit.

Brian knew that he loved him. He knew that he wanted to get married—he'd been hinting around about it for fucking ever. He'd go now if they could.

But he wanted to be able to talk to his father, too. He loved his father, despite everything. Brian had hated his, with good reason, but Craig was different—or he had been. Shit. Turning off the tree lights, he went up to join Brian.

Opening the door, he could make out Brian's shape under the blanket. He stripped off his clothing and approached the bed as Brian pulled the covers back for him.

Good, at least he was still welcome. He had a flash of the last time they had fought like this—well, not exactly like this. It was when it had fallen apart, the night before he left for Ethan. He had held the covers open for him then, too. They had spooned, Brian with his arm around Justin's waist, stroking his hand. He remembered hearing the labored breathing as Brian remained stoic but knowing that it would likely be the last time they would sleep together.

That had almost been the end. It had almost finished that night.

The memory was still too painful to be easily buried and Justin was stopped by the realization of what he might be doing.

Shit.

He climbed into the bed, Brian on lying on his side, facing him. He turned so that they faced one another.

"I love you. I want us to get married."

"I know that you do, Justin, but you know that your father and I will never see eye to eye on anything. It's not possible and for you to think that we'll all sit down and have dinner together is bullshit."

"Brian..."

"Even if you or your mother or your grandfather or the fucking Pope managed to convince him, I wouldn't be willing. I want nothing to do with him. You can do what ever you want, you can have him over for fucking tea parties if you want, but I won't be there."

"...I'll talk to him tomorrow. If he's willing to see reason, will you talk to him?"

Brian sat up, looking down at Justin. "No."

"You're not even willing to try?"

"Justin, I was willing to try after he hit my car and I was willing to try after he tried to kick my ribs in. I was even willing to try after he gave you that lameass ultimatum in your living room, but I'm not willing to try after the shit he pulled with your schooling and your mother and sister. He's a closed minded homophobic shit who abandoned his family rather than deal with his problems and I won't have anything to do with him."

"Are you seriously telling me that I have to choose between you and him?"

"I'm telling you that you can do whatever the fuck you want, but I won't have anything to do with him and you need to understand that now. You can meet him for dinner, you can take a vacation with him, you can have him over for a fucking game of bridge, so long as I'm not there, but I'll be fucked before I'll willingly set eyes on him again."

Justin knew that Brian would be as good as his word. He would never set foot in the same room as his father. Goddamnit.

"I want us to go tomorrow. I want to get married. If you don't then that's your choice."

There was silence. After a few minutes Brian lay back down on his back, thinking that the conversation was over for now. He felt Justin's hand on his. They locked fingers.

"Who knew that you were planning this?"

"Just your mother."

"The others don't?"

"You think they could keep this a secret?"

"Yeah, I guess." Silence. "Bri?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you maybe keep the door open for in a few years if he comes around?"

"Ask me in a few years."

"Bri?"

"...Yeah?"

"You tired?"

Brian felt the mattress move as Justin rolled back onto his side then over him. Settling on top of Brian, the two men began kissing, slow and gentle with all night if they chose to take it. Justin framed Brian's face with his hands, kissing his mouth, his chin, moving around to his cheek, up to his eyes. Licking lightly over the closed eyelids then back down the other side to the right cheek, the right jaw and back to the mouth.

"I love you, Bri and I want to marry you"

Brian ran his hands up and down Justin's back, along his sides, finally wrapping his arms around and rolling them over, Brian pushing his knees apart as he pressed his full weight onto the smaller man. He could feel Justin's legs come up around his waist, the feet locking behind him, their hard ons pressed against one another, trapped between them.

"Why do you want to marry me?"

Brian began suckling his neck, knowing that he'd leave a bruise, marking him. His mouth moved down to Justin's chest, to his breasts, his mouth fixing onto a nipple, teasing it into a small peak.

"You're the only man I know who's as smart as I am."

"I need a better reason than that."

Justin had taken a condom from the drawer next to the bed where they had hidden them, opened it and was rolling it onto Brian's length. Brian found the small tube and rubbed the gel into Justin's opening.

"You like sex as much as I do."

He began pressing inside

"A better reason."

He was through the ring of muscle.

"You're an amazing lover."

He was fully enclosed, allowing a few moments for Justin to adjust to him yet again.

"You're beautiful and you're rich and I love you."

He began moving slowly in and out.

"You're marrying me for my money?"

Justin grabbed the cheeks of his ass, pulling him deeper, tightening his legs around the strong back.

"Because you're beautiful and I love you."

He was moving faster, Justin began a low moaning with each thrust.

"And when I'm old?"

Faster, harder.

"I'll get on top."

That was the night they found out it was hard to laugh during an orgasm.

As they lay together after, Brian still inside of Justin, his weight on his elbows he looked down and asked again.

"Why do you want to marry me?"

Justin smiled, thinking that he was continuing the joke. He wasn't.

"Tell me why." He was deadly serious, staring at Justin's face, waiting for his answer.

When it came it was as quiet and serious as the question.

"Because I've loved you since the first night I saw you. Because I know that you love me. Because I'm stronger when I'm with you and you make me happy and because we're better people when we're together."

"For how long?" Brian seemed to fear the answer.

"For a long time." He kissed Brian's mouth then did it again. "A long time."

"Marry me?"

"Yes. We'll go tomorrow."

Seemingly satisfied, Brian carefully withdrew, discarding the used condom in the trash, pulled Justin into his arms and finally managed to sleep.

At breakfast the next morning Claudia was about to take egg orders when Jennifer stopped reading the paper long enough to ask if Justin wanted to try talking with his father again.

"I guess so, but I don't know if there's really anything that will be gained by it. I mean, he seems to have made up his mind."

"Sweetie, if you give him some time, he might come around."

"No he won't and even if he does, I don't think that Brian will."

Claudia, Justin's grandmother looked at him. "In-law problems. You know, one of the things that's always just really annoyed the Hell out of me are people who won't put aside their own little issues when the main event isn't about them—you know, the divorced parents who won't go to the same reception, the bridesmaid who refuses to wear whatever color the bride has chosen and that sort of thing. It just seems to me that there are times when one should just keep one's mouth shut, smile and think about something else."

"Lay back and think of England, Grandma?"

"The sounds of England were not what were coming through the walls last night, young man."

Blushing..."God, Grandma."

"Justin, sweetie, it's nothing that hasn't been done before—with some variations in this particular house."

"...Grandma..."

"Your mother and I were commenting before you came down this morning that Brian seems to be what we used to call a strapping young man. I would think that he acquits himself just fine."

"God, this is getting gross."

"You know, Mother, I shouldn't say this..."

"Mom, then please don't."

"Don't interrupt, Justin. Anyway, I accidentally walked in on Brian once and I would think that he would have no problems in that area at all."

Having obviously overheard the tail end of the conversation, Brian walked in, freshly showered. "Would you ladies like a blow by blow?" He leaned over to give Justin a kiss.

"God! Brian."

"Something wrong, Sunshine?" He knelt by the chair Justin was sitting in.

"I feel like I'm at a fucking bridal shower."

"And just who decided that you would be the bride, my soiled dove? I think that at the very least we could vote or trade off or something."

"Brian—fuck you."

"I suspect that you already did, sweetie. Brian, would you like coffee? And when is your daughter planning on making an appearance this morning, Jennifer?"

"She was up late, Mom, I'm letting her sleep."

"Thank you, Claudia. Black, please. Are any of those grapefruit left?"

Jennifer looked up again from her newspaper. "Do you two have any plans today? Have you decided what time you want to leave for Vermont?"

Brian took the empty chair next to Jen. "We hadn't really decided. I thought that we all might go out for an early dinner and then leave afterwards, if that would be alright." He started sectioning the half grapefruit in front of him.

"Are you sure that you want to get that late a start, Brian?"

"It'll be alright. The roads are clear and it shouldn't take more than five or six hours to get there. I need a ride to get the rental this morning, though, if someone can take me over."

They heard front door bell ring. Justin was about to get it when they heard Bill's voice from the living room saying that he'd get it. They heard him talking to a man, but the voices were low enough that that they were indistinct. The others finished their food, chatting for another half hour. As the two young men were about to wander off, Molly finally came in.

"When did Dad get here?"

Everyone stopped moving for a moment and looked at her. "Your father is here?"

"Yeah, I heard him and Grandpa talking in the study when I came down."

"Are you sure that it was Dad, Mol?"

"Yeah, sure. Grandpa called him 'Craig'."

"What were they talking about, sweetie?"

"God, Mom, what do you think? Justin and Brian."

Jennifer saw that Justin had gone still and that Brian had reached over to take his hand. She heard the whispered "It's alright."

She got up saying, "I'll see what's going on", and walked out of the kitchen.

"God, Brian. It's all going to be ruined."

Brian, put his arms around him, holding him. It was a habit they had started years ago, when Brian had thought that he would be moving to New York and again when he had seen Hobbs at the hospice. Justin would become upset over something, Brian would hold him until he calmed. It had happened any number of times. They both understood.

"It will be fine."

Just a couple of minutes later the other three adults came back to the kitchen. Craig didn't seem at all surprised to find Justin enfolded in Brian's arms, the two of them holding one another.

There was no shouting.

"Justin, I had to see you in person about this. I couldn't just let last night lay there the way we left it. Please, would you come talk with me in the study?"

"If you'll talk to Brian, too. If you'll apologize for the shitty way you've treated him all this time."

Brian tightened his arms slightly. "Justin—this isn't the time for this."

"Son, I'd like to speak with you alone, if you would."

"No. If it affects me, it affects Brian. You can talk to both of us. We're getting married this week, remember?"

Craig realized that he had no choice, not with Justin in the mood he was in. "That's what I understand. Justin, please. Look, I know that you're gay. I even accept that. Honestly, I do, but you can't—marry—this man. I've found out things about him that—he's not right for you."

Justin still stood with his arms around his lover.

"I know all about him. What are you going to tell me? That he's slept with a lot of men? I know that. That he's too old for me? He's not. That he uses drugs and drinks too much sometimes? You think I don't fucking know that? I've lived with him; I've slept with him. I know things about him that you've no ideas about. Do you think any of this is going to change my mind?"

"Justin, I just don't want you to get hurt. You know that he's hurt you. He will again."

"And I've hurt him, too. Fuck that. I love Brian. We're getting married this week. I want him and he wants me."

"You're still only twenty years old—how can you know...?"

"I want him. I love him and he loves me. You're wrong about him."

"Justin, please don't do this. At least wait until you're older."

"That's what you drove four hundred miles to say? You said the same thing on the phone last night. You could have saved yourself the trip."

"Son..."

"Please leave. I'll call you when we get back to Pittsburgh."

Taking Brian's hand, Justin made clear that the conversation was over by leading him out of the room and upstairs.

Knowing he had lost on every point, Craig took his coat off the chair he had lain it, put it on and left the house. A couple of minutes later they heard the motor start and the sound fade as the car was driven down the street."

TBC

4/21/03

Title: Christmas Presents, Chapter three

Author: Simon

Pairing: Justin/Brian, natch

Rating: PG-13 language

Summary: Brian gives Justin a present he was hoping for

Warnings: none

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Christmas Presents

Chapter Three

Upstairs in the guestroom Brian held onto Justin while he did his level best not to cry. Usually when he did that, Brian would be come short tempered with him, calling him a princess or a twat. This time he just held on and let the emotions work their way out.

"He just gave up. He walked out and gave up."

"No, he didn't. He just realized that he couldn't stop you and decided to cede a point."

"But he gave up on me, don't you see? He gave up on having a son."

Brian tightened his arms, stroking Justin's back. "Do you think Gus could ever do anything that would make me write him off?"

"Brian..."

"Do you?"

He sighed, somewhat dramatically. "No, of course not, but it's not the same thing."

"Yeah. It is. You father feels the same way about you that I feel about Gus—maybe even more because he lived with you growing up. He's not giving up on anything."

"Your father gave up on you."

"My father was a shit who never wanted kids."

"But he..."

"Justin, that's enough. He's done enough to fuck with your head today. Later today we're taking your family out to dinner then we're going to drive up to Vermont. We'll check into our room, fuck a few times and then we'll get married in a couple of days. After we get back home, you can call him and see him. He'll probably be more accepting of it after it's a done deal."

He considered what Brian had just said. It sounded reasonable, except... "Brian, he hates you. If I were marrying Ethan or some one it would be different. He hates you."

"That's OK. You can see him without my being there."

"But I want you there."

"One step at a time." He pulled slightly back so that he could look at Justin's face. He seemed slightly calmer. "I'm proud of you."

A doubtful smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." Brian kissed him; Justin returned the kiss and ran his tongue over Brian's lips.

"Now?"

"Later. I have to get the car." Disappointed, he accepted the answer.

"Brian?"

"Yeah."

"Am I too young for you?" The question was one that Brian was afraid of, hitting him too close to the heart of too many of his fears. He tried to deflect it.

"Do you think I'm too old for you?"

"Sometimes I do. Sometimes I think that you love me because I'm a young piece of arm candy."

Shit. "What made you bring this up now?"

"Is it true?"

OK, he wanted the truth. Fine, might as well get it out. "That's why I first picked you up. You know that. If that was all I wanted you for, you'd have been gone three years ago."

Justin nodded. "I know. I just needed to hear you say it."

"Fucking princess."

"Brian? I was looking at the rings before I went down for breakfast. They're really perfect. Thank you."

"Good." A quick smile, a head nod and Brian went to get the car.

The lunch—changed from a dinner after they realities of the drive were discussed—with the family as a thank you for welcoming Brian to the family and helping to arrange the surprise for Justin went well. Justin's grandparents had a favorite French restaurant at which they had made early reservations. The food was as good as they expected. There were toasts and champagne, there were good wishes exchanged. The two men were kissed and hugged and finally sent on their way around two that afternoon.

The plan was that they would drive straight through to get to the Inn, but around eight they decided to stop, stretch their legs and get some dinner. An hour later they were back on the road, by about eleven they had pulled into the parking lot of the Inn.

The room they were shown to was charming, complete with fireplace and large canopied four-poster. Brian had chosen it knowing that it was the sort of thing that would please Justin. A middle-aged couple owned the Inn, refugees from the corporate world and New York City. They were fairly used to same sex couples staying with them and remarked to one another how exceptionally handsome the two men in suite seven were, how happy they seemed, how devoted.

They were both exhausted the night they checked it. Between the emotional upheaval from Justin's father and the long drive, really all either of them wanted was sleep. As they were both starting to drift off Brian whispered, "Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking about something and I was wondering how you feel about it."

"What?"

"The loft is mine. It kind of has my mark on it. I was thinking that we might want to sell it and find a place that would be both of ours."

"Brian, are you serious? You'd sell the loft?"

"I think it would be better if we had something that really belonged to both of us."

"I think that would be great, but are you sure that you want to? O mean, we could maybe just change the loft so that it's more like both of us."

"Maybe. That's another possibility. I was going to buy the apartment below mine and make a duplex. It's going on the market next week, but I have first refusal on it."

Justin was excited by the idea; he rolled over onto his stomach, half on top of Brian. "We could do that?"

"Yeah, if you'd like, sure. I thought that I'd get a spiral staircase put in to connect the two. There would be room for a studio for you and maybe a room for Gus. Are you sure that you wouldn't rather just find a new place?"

"The loft is part of you."

"Justin, you're part of me."

"Again?"

"Like this."

The next morning the two men were in the small dining room having breakfast when the owner approached.

"Mr. Kinney? There was a call for you. Reverend Korinda said that everything is in order and if you would just let him know what time you two would like to stop by, he'll be happy to perform the ceremony."

"Thank you. Just leave his number, if you would."

Nodding, the man left.

"Today? Brian, are we getting married today?"

"Unless you have something else you'd rather do."

Justin moved around to Brian's chair, putting his arms around him and kissing him. "No, that's alright. I think I can fit that in today."

"It's not a big formal thing, just us in the man's home. Is that OK?"

"Like I give a shit? We're getting married, that's all that matters."

"You afraid that you were going to be an old maid?"

"Fuck off. Maybe we could have another ceremony later with our friends—you know, like sort of like Lindsay and Mel had."

"You mean with a cake and presents and all of that shit?"

"Fine. Forget I mentioned it."

Brian reached across the table, taking his hand. "Look, this is more than I ever thought I'd do. This was hard enough for me. Don't push your fucking luck, princess."

The sunshine smile was back. "I know. I was just wondering how far I could push you."

"Fucker."

Brian made the call and the arrangements, such as they were, were made. They would go over to the minister's home at five that afternoon, bringing the license and blood tests with them—and the rings.

"I've been wondering about that. How did you get a license without blood tests or my signature?"

"It was remarkably simple. When we were tested last month I asked the doctor to run whatever blood tests were needed for the license and then I got you to sign the application when you were signing the forms to renew your driver's license. I just sort of slipped it in."

"Is that why you were sticking your tongue down my throat? To distract me? You shit!"

"You're entirely too trusting, Sunshine."

A few hours later the two of them were driving the rental car to the further outskirts of the small town they were staying in. Brian had found the Inn close to Sugarbush ski area with the idea that the honeymoon would consist of the snowboarding that they had missed the first time around. The countryside was almost too perfect, the mountains snow covered, the pine trees grand, the landscape charming. It was even perfect weather after the snowstorms of the last couple of days. Amazing. Perfect and never to be forgotten.

Justin exclaimed over almost everything, every bend in the road, every quaint antique shop until Brian was ready to strangle him.

"If you want to buy a fucking quilt I'm going to turn this fucking car around. I don't do fucking quilts."

"But my mother will love this one. The colors are perfect for her and her birthday is next month."

"Justin, I mean it. If this is going to turn you into some domestic twat goddess, I'm fucking calling it off."

"I'm not a domestic twat goddess."

"You're scaring the shit out of me."

"Get the quilt and I'll make it up to you later."

"I'm going to fuck you later with or without the quilt."

"I know."

"Fine, get the fucking thing."

The minister met them at the front door of the small church. It was what you would expect for a small New England town. It was white, had a tall steeple and sat on a tree-shaded street in a quiet neighborhood. The interior was composed of richly colored woods and there were stained glass windows. There was a center aisle.

"Gentlemen, please come in, welcome. I'm Larry Korinda, the minister of the Community Church here."

"Dr. Korinda, Brian Kinney. We've spoken on the phone several times. This is my partner, Justin Taylor."

"Justin, welcome. Do you two have friends or family who will be joining us today?"

"No, just us. We'll be celebrating with our friends when we get home."

"That's not a problem. My wife can act as a witness and so can my sister. You've brought the paperwork? Good. If you'll just give me a minute to go over this we can get started."

Ten minutes later they were standing in front of the alter, reciting the traditional vows. Justin had been surprised when Brian had told him that was what he wanted, commenting that they pretty much covered things.

"To love, honor and cherish...To have and to hold, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, in sickness and in health.... with all my worldly goods I thee endow...so long as we both shall live."

The rings were exchanged, the fit on both of them exactly right. Justin grinned his smile, Brian looked as happy as the night Justin returned to him after the affair with Ethan had ended and they knew they wanted to be together.

Finally it was over, they were kissing and the minister was shaking their hands.

"I've married a lot of couples and I've gotten so that I have a pretty good intuition about how things are going to work out. You two will be alright."

Brian was shaking his hand, accepting his congratulations. "It's taken us awhile to get here and a year ago I would have said you were full of—that you were mistaken, but I think that you might be right."

Mrs. Korinda went through a doorway, returning a moment later carrying a tray with wine and glasses. "If you would, May I offer you a toast and best wishes for your future?"

The toasts were drunk, the deed was done.

They were married.

As they got into the car to go back to the Inn Justin looked at Brian with a question.
"Bri?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you want to get married in a church by a minister? I would have thought that you would have preferred to do the judge or Justice of the Peace thing."

"I don't know. I guess that old habits die hard. You, know. If you're going to do it, you might as well really do it."

"Bri?"

"Yeah?"

Justine smiled that smile if his. "So, we're married, right? This is our honeymoon now, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah—your point?"

"What do you fucking think?"

"You want to skip dinner?"

"You're going to need your strength, you'd better eat."

"Fuck you."

"Yeah."

"God, Brian—again." He was on his back, Brian about him, in him around him. It was past midnight and they had begun making love as soon as they had gotten back to their room after dinner. They had started in the shower, moved to the floor in front of the fireplace and from there up to the bed. They had made love gently, slowly and tenderly and they had made love fast and hard. They were almost sated—for now.

Brian's body spasmed one more time, he groaned loudly into Justin's ear, clenching the smaller man to him, feeling his lover cum between then again.

Finally they simply collapsed together.

After a few minutes, after they had caught their breath and after they had come back to themselves Brian slowly withdrew from Justin, settling in beside him, his left arm resting across Justin's stomach.

Justin took his left hand in his own, looking at the two rings next to one another. His hand paler, smaller, Brian's darker, the veins more pronounced, stronger looking. The rings were the same.

"No matter how long we're together, it won't get better than this. It might be as good, but it can't get better." He pulled Brian's hand up to his mouth, kissing it. "I love you and we'll be together for a long time."

Brian was looking at him, a slight smile on his face, his hand cupping Justin's cheek.

"We will be together and I love you, too." Justin stared at him, almost frozen. "What?"

"You never said that before, you never told me that you love me."

"Bullshit. I said it all the time. This is just the first time I put it into words."

TBC

4/22/03

Title: Christmas Presents, Chapter four

Author: Simon

Pairing: Justin/Brian, natch

Rating: PG-13 language

Summary: Brian gives Justin a present he was hoping for

Warnings: none

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Christmas Presents

Chapter Four

Justin woke early. He was in bed and he was warm and his body had that feeling he got when the sex the night before had been incredible. Smiling to himself, he rolled over towards Brian and opened his eyes.

Brian was still asleep, lying on his back, his left hand resting lightly on his chest. The gold from the simple band glowed with warmth. Justin put his own hand on top of Brian's, softly stroking the long fingers.

They were married. Actually honest to God, wearing rings with a license on the dresser married. Til death we do part stuff, you know—white lace and promises, a kiss for luck and all that shit.

Goddamn.

Sadie married lady.

So, what was he now? Who was he, he should say? Mrs. Brian Kinney? Mr. Justin Taylor? Master Kinney? Who the fuck knew?

What the fuck difference did it make? They were honest to fuck married.

Brian loved him enough to arrange all this and marry him and Justin loved him back every bit as much.

He leaned over, started kissing Brian's shoulder, up to his neck, moving his hand down from Brian's chest to his abs, his navel, his groin, his hard on. Brian's breathing changed and his tongue started moving on Justin's cheek.

More kisses, more stroking, the condom was placed, the lube was used and they consummated themselves again. And again.

After Brian looked down at him and with what little energy he had at that moment he smiled, "My bride", laughed and carefully rolled off his lover—no, his spouse, his husband, his whatever and smiled one of the few real smiles Justin had seen from him.

"I love you, Brian. I mean it. I really love you. I've told you that before, but this isn't the same. It's more—the feelings are deeper and I know that you'll be here and that you didn't have to do this but you did and I just love you so much."

"What the fuck are you babbling about?"

"I know what you've done for me. You've changed your entire life and you don't give a flying fuck what anyone says about it. You've told everyone that you love me, too."

Brian gave him one of his looks, got out of the bed and smacked Justin's butt as he passed by on his way to the bathroom. "Whatever. I'm starved. Let's get some breakfast."

"Fucker."

"Come in here and say that."

It was over an hour before they managed to get dressed and head down to the dining room. Over fruit and cereal and eggs Justin looked across the table. "So, snowboarding today?"

"If you want. You do realize that I've never been before. The last trip would have been my first time."

"You'll be fine. You're coordinated and you're athletic and you're in great shape. You'll do great."

"You've done this before? I mean other than the last time?"

"Well, yeah. I used to go with my parents every winter. They skied and I boarded. Molly skis, too. This one year we went out to Utah—God, we've got to go some time, Bri! The mountains are amazing and the color of the ski is like nothing you've ever seen before and the snow—it's incredible. You'd just so fucking love it." Brian was staring at him. "What?" No answer. "Do I have something in my teeth or something?"

Brian reached his long arm over, his finger tracing a line down Justin's cheek to his chin. Smiling suddenly and with a half laugh, "C'mon Sunshine."

The rest of the day was spent boarding on some of Sugarbush's slopes, Justin showing Brian the basics—which he quickly moved beyond—and then some of the more advanced moves. They made runs down Moonshine and Down Spout and stopped for lunch at Allyn's Lodge at the top of one of the trails. The weather was perfect, about twenty-five degrees and sunny, no wind. A perfect ski day.

A few more runs and they were done for the day. They took the last run down to the main area and made their way back to the Inn. The first thoughts were of a hot shower until they changed their minds and, actually putting on suits, went to the Jacuzzi on the lower section of the public areas.

The large tub was still pretty secluded, the Inn's owners not being stupid. Seeing the two men they knew to be newlyweds go in, the owners quickly—before much could happen—brought in the bottle of champagne and bowl of strawberries Brian had ordered and closed the door as they left.

Hearing the door latch the two of them laughed. The reactions to their being newlyweds as opposed to just being a couple were funny. Before yesterday they were tolerated. They were even, if the looks were interpreted correctly, envied. To be known as newlyweds seemed to open then to all kinds of smiles and cute remarks about their sex life—as if they hadn't had one last week.

There were remarks from the other guests about Brian carrying Justin over the threshold, about not wearing themselves out all at once, about eating a good dinner so that they would have strength when they needed it. One idiot woman had even commented that it was sweet that Justin would certainly be able to keep Brian young. His glare was exceptional, even for him. Justin had simply laughed and commented that, yes, Brian was lucky that way.

The Jacuzzi felt fabulous, especially after a long day on the slopes and a long night with not enough sleep. The water was a perfect one hundred and four degrees and the jets were aimed just where they would do the most good on strained muscles and overextended joints. Both men sank with some gratitude into the swirling water, moaning out how fucking good it felt. They sat across from one another, their legs and feet touching. For long minutes they just sat in the comfort, letting their bodies relax and enjoying the intimacy and pleasure of the setting.

Reaching over, Justin took one of the large berries from the bowl, dipped in the small bowl of cream and fed it to Brian, teasing him just slightly, rubbing the fruit across his lips until the mouth opened enough to slip the berry inside. His finger went in, too, staying just long enough to tease Brian's inner lip. This was followed by a gentle kiss and another berry then a sip of the wine.

Brian next took a berry, dipping it in the champagne, carefully placing it in Justin's mouth and then nuzzling his neck as he chewed and swallowed. His hands moved down Justin's shoulders to his back, pulling him closer, then to his waist to pull the elastic of the waistband down, removing the trunks and running just the tips of his fingers up the front of Justin's legs, up his shins, over his kneecaps, up the center of his thighs to his hipbones and then up to his nipples. All the while Brian continued to mouth his neck and throat.

Justin's hands were moving, too. Over Brian's shoulders and down to his butt, pulling the suit down, moving Brian so that it could be worked down his legs and off.

Naked in the swirling water, Brian pulled Justin to sit on his lap, legs around his waist and his cock pressing against Justin's hole. They were kissing deeply now, their hands clutching one another and their hips starting to grind.

"Now."

"Like this? Here?"

"Yes. Now."

Brian reached for the condom, Justin watching him. The younger man's hand touched Brian's. "No. Not this time. Please, Brian."

Brian's mouth was slightly open, his breathing faster than normal. "You're sure?"

"Forsaking all others, remember? You promised."

They looked at one another for a long few seconds before Brian kissed Justin as carefully as he had the first night when he had known that he was with a virgin. Raising Justin enough so that he could place him in position, Brian pressed his length against the opening gently until it allowed him entrance. His eyes on Justin, they watched each other's every reaction. In a real way it was their first time and they made it last, slow and passionate. The feelings, the sensations without the latex barrier were new to them both and almost overwhelming. It was more powerful than they had imagined, combined with the warm waters and the tickling of the bubbles. It was too much for them to sustain for long.

When their orgasms took them they were as strong as either of them had felt.

They remained where they were, no moving, feeling the after shocks, their arms around one another as their breathing slowed.

Their mouths remained together, the tips of their tongues barely touching one another in light caress.

It was one of the most erotic encounters they had ever had.

Still on Brian's lap, still connected, Justin picked up one of the glasses beside them, taking a sip then giving some to Brian.

A slow smile was on Brian's face, matching the one on his spouses.

"God, that was astounding. You are astounding."

"Ad man hype?"

"The truth and nothing but the truth."

More slow kisses followed.

"We need to get out. You're only supposed to be in here twenty minutes and we've been here over an hour."

"Carry me."

"Come on, lazy twat."

Reluctantly they stood up, gathered their clothing to get back to their room and made their way upstairs. Lying on the bed, Brian asked Justin if he would like to stay in or go out for dinner.

"I don't care. The restaurant here isn't any great shakes, but we can find something if we try."

"You are such a fucking princess. Where do you want to go, my bride?"

"How long are you going to call me that?"

"As long as it pisses you off."

"Fucker.

"There's a place down the road that a guy I was talking to this afternoon at lunch said was really good. A steak place."

"Was he hot?"

"No, but he thought that you were."

"So we know he has good taste. Fine. Call in a reservation, or ask the Inn to do it.'

Justin made the call, then, "Hey, Bri? We should call Mom. Let her know that we got married, OK?"

"Yeah, sure. She's still at your grandparents, right?"

"Hi, Grandma? It's Justin. Is Mom there?"..."Yeah, yesterday"...It's great, I'm so happy I can't believe it."..."Brian is right here, hold on"..."It went well, really well."...No, no pictures, but that's alright."..."Thank you, you know that it wouldn't have gone off as well if you all hadn't helped."..."Very happy"..."No, don't tell anyone, we want to do that when we get back. I'm putting Justin on again"..."Mom? Tell Molly that she can come over whenever she wants."..."We're going out to dinner"..."Snowboarding and I got Brian to go look at some of the antique shops yesterday"..."I know. I love you, too"..."I'm not sure, a couple of days, I guess. We'll see you when we get back. Thank Grandma and Grandpa for us both, OK? I love you."

"She's really happy for us." Justin looked over to where Brian was getting dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a light gray cashmere vee necked sweater.

"C'mon, the reservations are in half an hour, get ready."

"Brian? You look fucking sexy in that."

"I look fucking sexy out of it, too."

The restaurant was a typical steak place that you'd find in a ski town, maybe a cut or two above average. The décor was the usual moose heads on the wall and crossed skis hanging up. The usual fireplace burned in one room. There were old snowshoes behind the bar. The dominant costumes consisted of either Ralph Lauren sweaters or flannel. Brian snidely commented that the munchers would be in hog heaven.

After paying the check, Brian suggested that they might be able to find a place for dancing but Justin seemed anxious to get back to their room. In all honesty, Brian was just as happy to go along. He wouldn't admit it, but it had been a long day and he was looking forward to another round together in that big old four-poster and then a good night's sleep.

Walking outside they saw that the snow predicted earlier had begun while they were eating and a couple of inches had fallen. Not a big deal, the rental had four wheel drive and it was only a couple of miles back.

They got in and started back to the Inn. They'd be in inside of ten minutes, tops.

"Hey Bri?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if I told you, but I've never been this happy, ever." He put his hand on Brian's right thigh and rubbed gently. "I wanted you to know that. I really love you."

Brian glanced over to Justin's face. "I love you, too, Justin." Taking his right hand off the wheel for a second, he squeezed the hand on his leg.

The glance away was why he didn't see the poorly marked turn on the dark, winding mountain road.

Brian hit the brakes, but they were going too fast and the ice under the snow allowed no purchase. They left the road out of control, hitting the tree with full force.

TBC

4/23/03

Title: Christmas Presents, Chapter five

Author: Simon

Pairing: Justin/Brian, natch

Rating: PG-13 language

Summary: Brian gives Justin a present he was hoping for

Warnings: Major character death. Major angst. Angst o'rama.

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Christmas Presents

Chapter Five A

Ending #1

Brian

I knew he was dead.

I knew it as soon as the noise stopped and I turned to look at him, to ask if he was alright.

His airbag deployed. They both did, but if you don't have that belt on it doesn't mean shit.

Not when you hit a tree at fifty miles an hour.

He was sitting sideways on the seat, half off it on the floor, and I could see that his head was at an unnatural angle and he wasn't moving.

I tried to get him to respond to me, to talk or open his eyes or moan or something but he didn't.

A car behind us stopped and called 911.

I just sat in the car holding his hand. I didn't want to leave him and it was so cold there with the heater off. I think I put my jacket over him, but I don't really remember.

I knew that he wasn't breathing, that there was no pulse, but I kept talking to him anyway.

He hates the cold.

I kept telling him that help was coming and that he'd be warm soon, but I guess that he didn't hear me.

His hand was so cold.

The paramedics said that he was killed on impact. His neck was broken and his skull was fractured. They said that he hadn't suffered and that there would have been no pain. He probably didn't know what happened. He looked like he was just sleeping. Honest to shit, he did. There wasn't even any blood. None.

He wasn't even looking ahead when it happened. He was looking at me, smiling because I had just told him that I love him.

He always wanted to hear that shit.

It always made him smile.

The car went off the road, sliding on the fucking ice and hit that tree.

He always wore his seat belt, always.

I was. I was OK. I fucking walked away with a sprained wrist.

He didn't that night and I don't know why. Maybe he just forgot. I don't know.

Was it my fault? Maybe. I was driving. He distracted me with his hand on my leg; he didn't wear his seat belt. Was it his fault?

What fucking difference does it make? What if we had gone dancing? What if we had ordered room service? What if it hadn't snowed? What if we had gone to Hawaii?

What difference does it make?

They took him to the local hospital and declared him dead. They x-rayed him so that they would be able to answer the coroner's questions. The doctor told me that his spinal cord had been severed, so he couldn't have felt any pain. I guess that's good.

They didn't bother testing for alcohol or drugs because he wasn't driving, but they did test me.

I'd only had one beer at dinner and no drugs in over a week, so I was cleared. It was declared an accident, I wasn't charged with anything and they let me go.

The police gave me a ride back to the Inn and asked if there was anything they could do for me. There wasn't.

The owners of the Inn were kind. They did what they could. They ran a bath for me and they offered to pack his things so that I wouldn't have to, but I told them that I was fine and would rather do it myself.

They called a doctor to come look at me.

He said that I was in shock, no shit, and gave me some kind of a tranquilizer and I think a sleeping thing, but neither of them seemed to do anything. I spent the night sitting in a big chair in front of the same fireplace we had made love in front of the night before. I couldn't deal with the bed.

Shock feels numb.

Did you know that?

Shock isn't a bad thing. People talk like it is, but they're wrong. It's how you sometimes have to cope without screaming.

Shock lets you be calm enough to arrange for a coffin for your lover and to make the arrangements to transport him home in it.

Shock lets you pick out the clothes for him to wear in his casket.

Shock lets you kiss the lips of a corpse and pretend that they can still kiss you back, that there's still someone home there who can respond.

Shock is why I could call Justin's mother and tell her that he was dead.

Shock is what happened to Jen, too.

She was quiet and asked how I was. She asked when he would be home as though he was just at the movies. She asked if I had any thoughts about the service and I said that Father Tom would be a good man to conduct it if she didn't mind a priest. I told her that I would ask him to downplay the Catholic side of it. That was fine.

Shock is OK.

I wish that I were still in shock.

It carried me through the funeral and for a couple of days after that, but then I guess it started to wear off and the real world came back into focus.

I stayed in the loft and the others seemed to always be there. I think they worked out some kind of shifts so that I wouldn't be alone. For a couple of weeks there was always someone around. I don't know what they thought. Maybe they were afraid that I'd try to kill myself, but I won't.

At some point I noticed that Justin's things were disappearing and I got angry with that. That shit was Justin's and he was my husband and it was my decision what was to be done with that. I made it clear how I felt about it and then the things stopped going.

One day Debbie was here, I guess that it was her turn, and she yelled at me, really went into one of her rants about how I should cry, that it wasn't natural not to. I remember that I didn't answer her, just looked out the window and tuned her out.

I know Deb; she was trying to get me to break. I know that was what she was doing and I just wouldn't do it, not to her.

I don't know. Maybe it would have helped. Part of me wanted to, I know that. I wanted to cry and scream and pound the floor and kick my feet. I wanted her to hold me and rock me in her arms like I hold Gus when he falls down. I wanted to feel someone's arms around me again. I wanted her to stroke my hair and tell me that it was OK and that Justin loved me and that he had been happy with me and that what we had was wonderful.

I wanted that so bad.

I wanted to feel someone's arms around me like they meant it. I want to be able to believe that it's not just some fucked up sense of obligation that's bringing everyone here and I want them to stop looking at me like I'm going to implode in front of them.

I went back to work a couple of days ago. No one bothered me, Cynthia saw to that.

It was strange to be there. Usually when I walk around people get out of my way because they're afraid that I'll ream them for something. Now they get out of my way because they don't know what to say.

They don't know where to look when I walk into a room. No one meets my eye. I wondered if that was because I'm a gay man who's lost my partner, my lover or just because I'm a widower.

I don't know.

That's a weird word, isn't it?

Widower.

Sounds like a garden tool to eliminate moles or something.

About a month and a half after the funeral Mikey, came over with some Chinese food. I didn't know that he'd be showing up and I was sort of looking forward to being by myself. The Brian Watch seemed to have been disbanded a couple of weeks before.

Anyway, he walked in with this bag of food and I just didn't want it. It had been a crappy day and it was raining and I just wasn't in the mood for him right then.

He wasn't taking that for an answer, though. He just came in and puts this shit on the table by the couch, gets some plates and some chopsticks and starts dishing out this food.

He got steamed dumplings.

Fucking steamed dumplings which he knows I fucking hate. And the egg rolls had no shrimp in them and he forgot to tell them no MSG.

I mean, Goddamnit.

It just got to me, you know? It really pissed me off. Here he's supposed to be my fucking best friend and we've known each other forever and he even can't remember that I hate steamed dumplings and MSG.

So that was when I figured what's the point and it just really bothered me and I started crying.

I just sat there on the edge of the couch with my hands on my knees and I just started to cry and I couldn't stop.

He got up from where he was sitting on the floor and sat beside me and put his arms around me and held me so fucking tight and I held him back and I just cried forever. As soon as I thought that I was done I'd look at something—one of his paintings or my ring or his sweatshirt on the chair and I'd just start again.

Mikey didn't bother trying to tell me all the shit that the others had—that Justin had loved me, that I would never forget him, that he would want me to move on—none of that shit.

I know that shit.

I know he loved me, I know I'll never forget him and I know that he wants me to move on.

Fuck you all.

I'm fucking angry; can't any of them see that?

I want him back. I want to hold him and kiss him and make love to him.

I want to walk in the loft after work and see him standing there waiting to put his arms around me and kiss me. I want to feel him next to me in bed and I want him in the shower. I want to see him sitting in my car and walking in after a day of classes.

I want to see that incredible smile again.

I want to touch him and feel him and hear him rag me because it takes me twenty minutes to fix my hair. I want him to complain because I'm late for dinner or because I forgot his fucking birthday. I want his shit all over like it used to be. I want him calling me at work ten Goddamned times a day and I want—fucking everything we had.

He was twenty fucking years old and that's all he got and he was the most amazing man I ever met and it's all so incredibly fucking wrong.

Somehow we're up on the bed and Mikey is still holding me like he used to when I'd have a run in with Jack. And I realized that I was still crying and I didn't even care.

I want him back. I want the twenty or thirty years that we were supposed to have.

I fucking miss him every minute of every Goddamned day.

I'm afraid to go to sleep at night because if I do I know that I'll dream about him again and I'm afraid that if I go to sleep that this might be the night I don't dream about him and then I'd be losing him all over again.

Doesn't anyone fucking get this?

God, I want him back.

I want that so bad.

Finally, finally the crying stops, at least enough so that I can breathe again. Mikey is still holding me, though. I was sort of curled up against him, which is odd because I'm so much bigger than he is. Then I start thinking that this was usually how I would hold Justin and I'm about to start again and I sort of force myself to stop this time.

Then he asked me if this was the first time I'd cried since it happened and I tell him the truth. That every time I would take a shower I would sit on the floor with the water running full blast on me to drown out the sound and I would cry until the hot water was gone. I did that for a long time, when the Brian Watch was in effect because I didn't want the others to know.

Anyone else would have asked me why, but Mikey knew why. It was private, between Justin and me. He just sort of nodded. He knew.

My eyes were leaking again. I wasn't really crying, but tears kept coming out of them and I couldn't stop.

I told Mikey that Justin was never a threat to him, to us. I don't know if he believed me, but I told him.

He kept holding me.

I finally fell asleep.

In the morning I knew that I had overslept because of the way the shadows were, but Mikey came in and said that he had called Cynthia and she knew I wouldn't be in that day.

OK. Now that pissed me off.

I got up and showered and dressed in like ten minutes and walked into the Agency around ten thirty. Cynthia looked surprised and I told her to never listen to Mikey and get me some fucking coffee and something to eat, even a Goddamned donut.

She was less than two minutes.

When she handed them to me she was smiling and that pissed me off, too. I asked her what ray of sunshine had crawled up her ass.

She just said that she was glad I was back.

Bitch.

I sat at my desk with breakfast, such as it was, in front of me. After a moment I opened the bottom drawer on the left side and took out the picture that had been there for a couple of years, I'd never put it out because it figured that it was no one's fucking business.

I had taken it one day at the loft; he was sitting working at his computer and had just glanced up and flashed that smile when he saw it was me.

I loved that picture of him. I love him.

I would go back to work now.

But first I put him out on my desk where I could see him.

The End

4/23/03

Title: Christmas Presents, Chapter five

Happy version

Author: Simon

Pairing: Justin/Brian, natch

Rating: PG-13 language

Summary: Brian gives Justin a present he was hoping for

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Christmas Presents

Chapter Five B

Alternate Ending

Brian

We hit the tree hard. The ice—I just couldn't stop and then we were off the road and then—BLAM—we were against that tree and everything was quiet like everything was holding it's breath.

The airbags had gone off and then the thing was just lying there in my lap. I turned to my right and—thank God—Justin was sitting there. He looked at me and at about the same time we both said, "Are you alright?"

I was and so was he.

Wear your seatbelt, OK? Just do it.

There were some lights and I heard some people crashing through the woods behind us to get to our car and then I heard them pounding on the windows, asking if we were OK. Shaken up, scared and we'd both be sore later, but we were ok.

Really—seatbelts, wear them.

The people outside had called 911 and the police and an ambulance showed up pretty quickly. Justin and I both walked away on our own power, climbed up the embankment, got into the ambulance, spent a few hours at the local emergency room and were both released with minor bruises requiring noting more than a few aspirin to take care of. I had a minor sprain in my left wrist and Justin had a minor cut to his knee.

A cab took us back to the Inn.

We were both OK.

Shit.

Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up from this nightmare where I thought that Justin had been killed and I had just sat there in the wrecked car knowing that he was dead. I started crying. I just couldn't help it but then I woke up for real and he was holding me and he was smoothing my hair and kissing me and thank God.

I held him the rest of the night and then in the morning I was afraid to let him out if my sight. It was like I had come so close to losing him—first to Ethan and then to a car wreck that I was afraid that if he left the room he might not come back.

I just wanted him next to me and I kept holding his hand or putting my arms around him. You know what? I think he felt the same way about me because he was acting the same way. We were both just so careful of one another after that. I think it was some kind of turning point for us. Somehow we both had a handle on how easily we could have lost it, just how close we had come and I think that was when we stopped taking any of it for granted.

It was odd, in a way. It was like the accident; knowing that we had almost lost one another, let us know what we had.

Alright, we know what we have—I think we always did know, but this really brought it home and it somehow broke down the barriers and let us be tender without embarrassment.

Odd how that worked.

And if I still talked to Father Tom's boss, I think I'd thank him.

We finished out the rest of the week up in Vermont, mostly staying close to the Inn and one more day snowboarding, but I think we were still both too spooked to go out much after that.

It got better, though and after four or five days, we were almost ready to go home and face everyone.

I say almost—I mean, really—how the fuck do you prepare yourself for the family reunion that we knew would be waiting for us?

Justin

Brian has been so different since the accident—OK, not really different, just more, I don't know—quiet and more thoughtful. It's almost as if we were riding along and everything was going so great and then he—we—realized that it could have ended right there.

I think I might have an easier time with it than he's having because I went through the bashing.

OK, I know. He went through it too, but I was the one who was hit in the head and so I really do understand that I can get killed.

That's a weird thought, you know?

But it didn't happen and I'm just too fucking happy to think about it any more.

This married stuff?

It's so great that you can't imagine it. Brian is gentle and kind to me and he loves me and I love him and he doesn't care who knows it or sees it or anything.

Since the accident he hardly let's me out of his sight and that's OK with me. He almost treats me like I'm fragile, or maybe it's that what we have is fragile and he wants to protect it with everything he's got.

He holds my hand now, and he'll walk up behind me and kiss my neck and all that romantic stuff that he used to snark at.

In bed he holds me all night. We always did sleep close together, but now he keeps his arms around me like he wants to make sure that I'm there and that I'm safe. If I get up or move it wakes him up until he knows that I'm alright.

I love him.

God, talk about your simple sentence that's the most complicated thing in the world.

He likes it when I put my arms around him and kiss him right in front of anyone who's around. It's like we've accomplished something incredible just be being together.

I love his looks and his bod, his mind and his intelligence. I love his sense of humor and his snotty comebacks to people. I love that he's so successful and so good at what he does. I love that he's brave and won't cave in to anyone. I love that he's honest and says exactly what he thinks. I love that he loves me and that he loves me enough to marry me.

Does that sound twee?

I don't fucking care. It's true.

I love the idea that he loves me enough that he believes that we'll be together for a really long time and that he wants to share his life with me.

I still can't believe that he's let down his walls—well, most of them—for me.

God, he's amazing and this week he's let me inside (oh, stop smirking) more that I think even he ever thought he would.

I'm just so fucking happy.

Debbie

Well, the asshole finally did it!

I couldn't fucking believe my eyes!

We all went over to Jennifer's place for a just a little after Christmas party and there we were at a wedding reception for Brian and Sunshine.

I never, in all my life ever though that Brian fucking Kinney would ever take that kind of a fall and ever go down the vows and gold rings road, but there the two of them were, standing with their arms around one another's waists smiling and kissing and cooing like a couple of Goddamned turtle doves.

I walked right over to the two of them and at first I didn't quite get that they had actually gotten married all legal like—so I was about to give Sunshine a kiss hello when I saw the ring on Brian's finger.

In all the years I've known Brian, I've never seen him wear any kind of a ring and this one is pretty obvious—gold and right on his ring finger.

So, I pick up his hand and asked him, "What the fuck is this?"

Justin just started laughing and he had that big smile on his face and then he held up his hand, too, and told me that they had gotten married six days ago and that they had just come back from Vermont where they had been honeymooning.

So I just screamed and grabbed the two of them in a big hug which got everyone's attention and I just sort of yelled out, "Hey, they did it, they're fucking married!" Then I held up Justin's hand to sort of prove it and everyone rushed on over and started asking questions and hugging and kissing and congratulating them, and then Jen brought out the champagne she's gotten and it turned into this really terrific party with the two of them—OK, mostly Justin—telling us the whole blow by blow.

And you know what made me smile the most about the whole thing? The look on Brian's face every time he looked over at Justin.

I've never seen that kid so happy, never; in all the years I've known him.

Every time I see that look on his face I want to cry, it make me so happy for him.

After all the crap he's been through, it's about time. The asshole.

Michael

When I got back from Portland Mom told me that she thought Brian might actually love Justin and damn if she wasn't right.

I'm happy for him—OK, I guess for both of them—don't get me wrong, but I'm sort of pissed at Brian.

I mean, here we're supposed to be best friends and he plans this whole thing and goes off and married his twink—fucking MARRIES him, no less—and doesn't say a Goddamned thing to me about it.

At the party at Jen's I took him aside and he asked me what was bothering me, like he didn't know, and I told him.

He got this sort of Brian look on his face and just said, "It was private, Mikey, just between us. Justin didn't even know until a day or two before."

I started to say something about how he could have told me and he just repeated that it was private between him and Justin. He didn't say it nasty or anything, but he made it pretty clear that was that.

Shit.

I guess that he saw that I was hurt he hadn't told me so he tried his old thing about how he loves me 'always has, always will', but it wasn't the same.

I know, but it's not the same.

Cynthia

I absolutely couldn't believe it when he came back from the Christmas break with that ring on his finger.

I'd known for years that he and Justin were an item, well in an on/off sort of way, but I certainly never thought for one second that he'd actually go and get married and seem so damn happy about it on top of everything.

I was starting to get worried until about the fourth day back when he chewed a new one for one of the interns who had forgotten some trivial thing. I suspect that the real problem might have been that she had tried to flirt with Justin when he came in to meet Brian for lunch. The poor thing was last seen headed for the ladies room in tears.

When I started to say something to him about it he told me to fuck off.

You should have seen the look on Vance's face when Human Resources told him that Brian had changed his medical benefits to include his spouse.

He walked right into Brian's office offering his congratulations and hand shaking. He even brought in a couple of those noxious cigars he likes and started teasing Bri about how he always suspected that he wasn't really gay, that it had all been some kind of put on. Then he was saying that Brian and the bride would have to have dinner with him and the third Mrs. Vance soon.

Brian had about enough of that pretty fast, so he just told Vance that he and Justin had gone up to Vermont because it was the closest place for same sex marriages. Oh, and yes, he really was gay, but dinner sounded great.

It was good to have him back.

Ethan

I saw Justin walking down the hall at PIFA and asked him if he might want to come with me to get a cup of coffee or something.

I don't know what I was hoping for with that. I mean, I know we were over as far as he was concerned, but I thought that maybe he'd be willing to, I don't know, maybe think about it or something.

I'd heard that he was back with Brian, no surprise, and I'd even seen them together once at the park with a little kid. I guess that it was probably the son Justin told me Brian had.

Shit. They looked like a picture perfect family.

There was Dad, tall and handsome with Justin, the little woman and the perfect baby on the swing set on a perfect fall day with the leaves falling. They even stopped to get the kid some ice cream.

He told me that he wanted romance; I guess that Kinney finally came through for him.

Anyway, he agreed to the coffee and we went over, got something to drink and sat down. I started to tell him about a concert date that had been lined up and that he might like to come. He was about to say something about it when his cel rang.

Kinney, of course.

His whole fucking expression changed. He got this look on his face like he was listening to God or something. He told Kinney that something sounded good and that he'd be there.

"What was that?"

"Brian's boss wants us to have dinner with him and his wife tonight."

"Why would you go to something like that?"

He told me, very matter of factly, that he and Brian had gotten married over Christmas and it was a dinner for the partners and their spouses. Then he showed me the ring on the hand he'd had in his pocket.

So. That was that.

I got up and went back to the rehearsal room.

Justin

I was sort of worried that after we got home and the excitement died down that it wouldn't be as good as we had hoped that it would. You know, the honeymoon is over and it would become routine.

I was so fucking wrong.

It's better.

Brian bought the place below us and the renovation is almost finished. There's a studio for me to use and a room for Gus. There's even enough room so that Brian and I can get away from one another when one of us wants to be alone. I never thought that would be a problem—wanting time to myself—but it's a good thing once in a while.

Brian and I decided that we would redesign the loft together so that it would be ours, not just his and I had moved in. It'll be awesome when it's done.

The family has all come around. I think that even Michael will be alright when he really gets a handle on the fact that I know that he and Brian are friends and that it's OK. Deb practically beams when she sees us—I think we've become her new poster children for Gay Family Life.

It's a little embarrassing.

Mom is happy for us and we see her every few weeks. Molly likes to show Brian off to her friends and I think he gets a kick out of it. He pisses and moans enough for him to be enjoying it.

Craig and Joan were told about us being married, but we haven't heard from either of them. Brian told me that he'd heard from Father Tom that Joan prays for us to seek salvation.

Whatever.

It bothers Brian, but he's resigned to it, I guess.

I'd still like to be able to talk to my Dad, but I don't think that will be anytime soon.

Brian is, as he would say, fabulous. The most fabulous fag in Pittsburgh.

God, I love him.

Knowing that every night he's going to be there, holding me and making all the bullshit fade away—all the day-to-day crap doesn't matter as much as it used to.

He's been promoted to senior partner. I think Vance is afraid that he'll break away and form his own agency. He's thinking about it, but he wants to build up some money before he does that. That's OK.

I graduate from PIFA in a few months and I've gotten few job offers to sort through. It's weird. I'd feel strange working at Vanguard and I don't think Brian would really like it, so I've ruled it out. It would seem too much like nepotism. Working at another agency would be strange, too—in a way I'd be in competition with Brian. I said something to him about it and he told me not to be a twat. I had to work somewhere, he wasn't about to be my sugar daddy and I still owe him all my tuition money.

He was going to forgive the loan as a wedding present, but I refused. A deal is a deal.

Besides, I told him that I'd rather have that trip o Italy Em had to renege on.

So, that's what we're doing this summer.

It's all working out, better than I'd hoped, in fact.

The look on his face in the morning when we wake up together—it sums everything up.

I love him.

The End.

Again.

4/25/03

54