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This can be read alone, but characters might make more sense if you read "What do you want for your Birthday?" first.

Chapter 1

Justin's POV

I can't believe it's been a year already, actually more than a year, but who's counting? I'm not, nor will I admit that I have a calendar just for counting, that would be fitting of a teenager with a silly crush. Shut up, I know you're thinking that I was. Well, I wasn't. Everyone may have thought that I was, but I honestly loved Brian. Many don't believe in love at first site, but I did, still do, because I experienced it. Course I was also young, naïve and immature, regardless of how intelligent I was. Book smarts are no substitute whatsoever for street smarts, especially when said street is Liberty Avenue and you've fallen for the elusive predator known as Brian fucking Kinney.

So, yeah, over a year since I left…left my life, my home, my friends, my family…and the one person who meant more to me than all the money, fame and art in the world. My boyfriend, partner, fiancée, love of my life, my world. Whatever you want to call him. I know that may sound poetic, romantic, probably maudlin, depressing and pathetic. I hate when I have times like this, nothing to do (or at least nothing urgent that needs to be done right now), nowhere to go, just time, only time…only time… "Whether we see each other next week, next month…never again, it doesn't matter, it's only time." Fuck! I hate when I get this way, when all I can think of is him, Brian, my Brian.

I know we'll be together again someday (no I'm not being romantic, just realistic, because I KNOW), someday soon, if I have any say over that, which I know I do, but I also know where I want to end up, which is unfortunately not up to me. It still bugs me when he said never again. God, I can still picture his face. So many emotions: pain, heartache, loss, sorrow, but also love, devotion, friendship, selflessness. He's always been selfless, even though most don't think it or realize it. He does so much for so many. Each time putting everyone before himself, including me, always me, maybe especially me. I know he wanted me to be independent, to make my own way and I guess in a way, I needed that. I needed to grow and be my own person without relying on anyone.

It certainly wasn't easy and I won't bore you with the details, but it took several months of self promotion and trekking all over this damn city, while finding and keeping a job to help with rent and living. I'm glad I still had money from Rage: The Movie and the comic (and a bit from that show that inspired my move in the first place, but after everything I've been through I understand the need to save as much as possible). That definitely helped with up front and initial costs. But I knew I would need a job so I had steady income and wouldn't have to use up my savings. It isn't until I was truly on my own that I realized how much everything costs and what those expenses mean. Clubbing was certainly out. Not that I had time anyway, but with drinks, cover charges, cab fare, and then trying to sleep long enough to still support myself, and not at a job like the diner where if I was late it was no big deal.

I'm a waiter at an upscale restaurant where I have to be on time and while I'm afforded a slightly flexible schedule (I'm an artist and the whole starving artist thing isn't lost on the management, not to mention with school they kind of understand). I even have a uniform at the restaurant. I mean it's a great place, I wear black slacks, and white long sleeve button shirt with tie and pocket square. As formal as it sounds, it is hot, but it's definitely not the kind of place you could go into the bathroom for a quick fuck. Not that I haven't had the opportunity, to most gay men, it's obvious that I'm gay and I've been propositioned a few times, but I like having a steady income way too much for a quick fuck. Not to mention that if I flirt just enough (more than being friendly, but less than let's go for a quickie) I get fabulous tips from most gay guys and plenty of women (especially when they're in a group for like lunch or dinner without the family).

So, like I said, I have decided to go back to school. I really want to finish my degree. By now I'm successful enough to have had a few joint shows and sold several pieces to smaller galleries and local businesses. But this is art, I may be hot now, but you never know when the next big thing will come along. I know I'm good, brilliant even. I know my art will always be asked for and wanted, but as with anything, styles come and go, there are fads in the art world, too. My art won't be in demand any more, one day, so I need a backup plan.

Because I had actually chosen to leave PIFA the last time to go to LA, it was easy to transfer everything. I originally looked into NYU (I mean who wouldn't, right?), but honestly Marymount was a lost closer to what I wanted to do, and I even get to focus on my preferred mediums: Studio art, graphic design, and (because I really wanted to) gender and sexuality studies. The graduate degree in Arts and Politics sounds truly interesting, but that will have to wait till I'm finished with the school I'm at, not to mention if I did that I'd have to be in New York for that, not living out of state. I know I live in New York right now, and I will be for a while longer, but I also want to go back home. That's right, home, where my heart is (oh, shut up, you always knew I was the hopeless romantic one).

I will finally be done with my degree at the end of this Spring, thank god! I was thinking of inviting everyone here, but some of them can't afford the airfare, and are too proud to accept help. I know Brian *sigh* would be able to pay, but I'm not sure he'll be here. Oh, who am I kidding, he'd come if I ask, but I don't know if I want him to. There are times like this I miss him so much it almost makes me want to quit. And there are those nights when I'm just awake enough to not collapse in bed I imagine he's here holding me whispering sweet "Brian" nothings in my ear. Go to sleep, Sunshine, you're tired, I'll be here when you wake up, ready to pound your tight little ass into the mattress then sucking your cock dry. Great now I'm hard…but I can still hear his voice. It's easy to be hard when thinking of Brian, but it's hard to be hard when knowing he's not here.

I must admit I haven't gone too long without hearing his voice. It took me forever to contact him the first time (well, not literally, but it seems that way). We talk every couple of weeks. It's short and simple. There's nothing much to say and things like I love you, I miss you, I wish I was in your arms, I'm really fucking horny or I want to come home, never seem appropriate. We know, every time we talk that we love each other, it's obvious we miss each other. The horny part – also obvious – we're gay men and he's Brian Kinney. As far as anything else shared, I know I'm here and we both want me to finish what I've started. When I have the time to think about Brian, how he changed and what might happen when I go back home I want to roll my eyes, shake my head, laugh, run into Brian's arms and scream at him all at once.

I knew he pushed me off Mt. Kinney, again. Pushing me away to find my own way. I realize now that he actually did change and through my own thoughts (retrospectively speaking) and the gay grapevine (starting with Debbie, of course) I know that he was willing to stop tricking, be monogamous, and marry me (wow, I still get choked up at that and that's how I know we'll be together again soon, because those thoughts and feelings are still just as strong and powerful as they have always been). I also know that his tricking, drinking and drugging are almost non-existent. Of course it helps that Ted is still my accountant, and oddly close to Brian, so I hear all about him in relation to Kinnetik and Babylon. I know he's rarely at Babylon, unless he's in the office, and as far as Kinnetik, he no longer uses his tried and true persuasion methods of getting accounts.

He also spends very little time in the backroom, and another reason I know he's changed (we've both changed actually), because when he is in the backroom, apparently blow jobs are the only things going on. Which is kind of weird, since that's the only thing I do, as well, when and if I have the time and the need. I never used sex like Brian used it, and while, sure there was a time where I was always horny so fucking all time seemed great, but I didn't need to. Jerking myself off was perfectly suitable, and certainly a lot cheaper, with absolutely no travel involved. Getting a blow job also takes some control out of the picture. Obviously being blown puts you in power and the trick on his knees has very little, but it's a lot easier for him to walk away and say no than when you're actually fucking someone.

Neither one of us talked about it, and there are no rules or agreements or anything. It just seemed to be something we have silently and (possibly) unknowingly agreed on. Blow jobs are a lot less personal and (as much as I hate to say this, but it's unfortunately true) is a glory hole that you know what you're going to get. That's so not the case with Brian and I, he gives the world's best fucking blow jobs, ever (and I know he'd say the same to me *smile* "you can give yourself head?"- only Brian would think that – course then he'd never leave his loft).

So anyway, I know that neither of us is fucking anyone else, and to be honest, I don't want to. Getting a blow job is more exciting than a hand job at home, but when I've had the absolute best, why would I want anything less than that regularly? And let me tell you Brian is the best, at fucking, rimming, sucking, ramming, touching, kissing, making love, whatever we do, and in whatever room, and on whatever surface, he is the fucking best!

It's funny that neither of us fucks others. It's not like we're in a relationship, we're not cheating, we're not even engaged *sigh* any more. Okay that hurt a little more than I thought it would. But, well, I guess you could use the word relationship, but that would be labeling what we have and the only labels we're interested in are the ones in our clothes (well, for Brian anyway). I don't care about any labels. Maybe at one time I wanted that, wanted Brian to admit something, to be or say or do something to prove what I mean to him. Well, if Brian Kinney buying a country manor of my dreams, for his prince, that he would give anything, do anything, be anything to make me happy, and willingly marry me to show me how much he loves me, doesn't prove how much I mean to him, then not a fucking thing in this whole wide fucking world will.

So where was I? Other than the mind wandering to that perfect evening. Brian and I have had some fucking hot moments, loving and romantic moments, too. We've even had long periods of time of being truly happy. But nothing compares to that night. Course the morning that next week when we sent our announcements was pretty fucking hot. The loft is huge and doesn't have tons of rooms, but we fucked in every room in the loft, more than once (definitely more than once in the shower)…but that night at Britin (that really was the manor of my dreams, it was a huge property and after the tour Brian gave me, I knew exactly where I wanted my studio – there was a sun room, over half the size of the loft – that was so well built it looked like part of the house and was completely insulated and weather proof and of course, you could see the enormous back yard), but that night, Brian showed me the rings, said he loved me each time he came, and few times in between.

Do I regret my time away? At times, yes. I know Brian would say no regrets, but I do regrets, but I also wouldn't have changed this time. I am me, I could be who I needed to be, and ( I think Brian did that on purpose) my limited contact with Brian kept me thinking of what I needed to do here, not of what I wish I was doing somewhere else.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. And it's absolutely true, if there's one thing I've discovered (aside from my artistic abilities) is that Brian is it! There are a lot of beautiful men in this city, some of them are close to as sexy, intelligent, hot or talented as Brian, but absolutely, unequivocally, undeniably no one comes close to Brian. I have never felt towards anyone what I have ever felt towards Brian. I fell in love with him (heart, mind, body and soul) that first night with him, and through all the shit we've gone through I have never stopped loving him. And yes that includes all the times I've left, all the times we've been apart.

My loving him was never lacking. Course, I think now I could show it a whole lot better and I know Brian can show it. He always was, he just never used to think about what I thought of all his actions put together. On the other hand, I can be accused of the same thing. I don't see this time in New York as my leaving Brian, it's me seeing and discovering who I am and what I can do, on my own. I'm not quite sure what Brian thinks of my leaving, but still, I think back (again) to the look on his face our last night together and I can only assume he thought I would leave and get so consumed and busy and successful that I wouldn't want to come back.

I'm not sure how that fits into how often we talk, but maybe that's why he keeps it simple. And I'm not going to delve deeper into the Kinney psyche than he's willing because at that point he'll shut down and it'll be a lot longer than normal before I hear from him again. And regardless of what I do here and how long I'm here, I have to hear him. Even if we don't see each other, and we might even go a month without talking. We still email each other (full of unimportant bullshit, but enough to know we're thinking of each other). That contact says something, if nothing else than that he hasn't forgotten me, and (maybe more importantly) I haven't forgotten him.

If that first night at Britin was perfect, then that last night with Brian, at his loft, was indescribable, unbelievable, mind boggling, extraordinary, beyond words, it was too much, too big, too many things all at once, physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually (yes, sex like that, making love to Brian like that was spiritual). I felt it everywhere, still feel it when I think about it, if the soul can feel, it still holds that imprint forever, and it's holding it's breath till I can feel Brian again. It was tender, loving, gentle, open and beautiful. Even more so than the first time he made love to me, more than that night at Britin. It was also laced with sadness and loss, for what might have been, for what we could have had, for all that we meant to each other. His eyes were more open and expressive that night than I had ever seen them. For that look alone, that last look, hug, cuddle, when he held me to him so tight as if I could be absorbed into him and never be able to leave, I had to leave.

Stop what you're thinking, that's not what I meant. I didn't leave him, but leave…I don't know, leave me behind? Leave that fear? Leave that uncertainty? Brian was right when he told me I would regret not doing this, maybe not soon, but at some point I would regret it. And it would destroy me not knowing. Now not only do I know but I know, with a definite clarity and certainty I've never had before, that when I go back, if Brian will have me, we will always be together. I still don't need the ceremony or rings or vows and the stupid golden gardenias or the fucking heterotypical seating chart. I don't even need the manor, although it would be nice if we could look for a place together.

I love the loft. It was definitely Brian, and for a time, it was me, but we're not those people any more, and I wouldn't particularly mind *smile* if we could find a place free of all the tricks and bad memories, you know provided the new place has a shower built for two. Listen to me, planning a future that I have no idea will happen (not that I'm giving up, this is me we're talking about… twink who stalked Brian Kinney and got him). Well if nothing else, I certainly feel better. I know I was feeling sorry for myself. I've been crazy busy lately and with being my last semester and not going home for the holidays and preparing for my final project and waiting to hear about the possibility of my first solo show shortly after graduation, not to mention my whatever the fuck tonight.

And now you're wondering what the fuck? Well, let me tell you, I'd have to agree. Okay, so I don't have a date, I don't do dates…and no this is not connected to Brian, has to do with Brian, nor am I keeping something from Brian. I don't see anyone other than Brian, I would think you would know that by now. I learned my lesson, once, never again (now, and about that, I can say that). I said before, if you weren't paying attention, Brian is it for me. I know this, always has been, always will be.

So now you're wondering what the fuck does any of that have to do with anything? Well, I'm going out tonight, specifically, with one person. I refuse to call it a date, because it's not. First, I'm not going on a date because it's not with Brian, so therefore anyone else gets lower status. Second, I don't even know the guy, it's some friend of a friend, and I've been picked to "show him a good time" – and not how you think. Third, I don't follow the Brian Kinney dates are bullshit logic, and while dates have a purpose and can mean something special to both parties involved, that is the exact reason this is not a date. Dates have expectations and meaning and sentiments attached. There is a sense that going on a date means someone's going to lucky. Well good for him, cause it's not going to involve me. So based on all that, not a date, because with Brian Kinney permanently residing in my mind and heart, there's no way I could consciously agree to go on a date with anyone else, because I know it will never go anywhere.

So now you must be wondering about this friend of a friend right? Why am I going, why me, and what exactly is wrong with this guy that he can't find someone on his own? Believe me, I asked all those questions the moment he suggested it. So there's this guy (oh god, how corny does that sound)…that is the, what was he…oh yeah, best friend's son… no wait, cousin? I don't remember. Anyway, this guy knows the owner of the gallery my last show was in.

This guy has apparently been out of town for while and Stephan wants me to take him around town. I know the guy lives here, when he's here, so he already knows the city. But he travels a lot on business and I think Stephan just wants to set him up with someone since he knows we're both gay. And while he is open and accepting, he's kind of traditional in his views, so that I haven't really talked about Brian all that much because I don't think he would understand the connection we have. But I also can't say no because, hello, owner of the gallery showing my work…if he wants me to meet his nephew or whatever the fuck he is, so be it.

I'll just be very clear when I meet the guy (away from Stephan) that absolutely nothing will happen and we can just do whatever he wants (within reason). Hopefully he doesn't expect anything from tonight. Although if he knows Stephan well enough, and, if I remember correctly, he's around Brian's age, then he'll expect kind of a blind date thing and be prepared for the possibility that tonight won't be fun at all. I know I'm fun, but I can only imagine why he has to be set up, so I'm assuming he would be thinking the same thing. But it's not a blind date (I hate that phrase…shit, even Daph hates that phrase…and she's straight…then again, who wants to ever go on a blind date…do they ever work out?).

Anyway, I need to get ready now for this whatever with this guy I'm meeting. Hmmm…maybe he'll think similar to me (not uncommon for gay guys) and…it would be kind of awkward to ask for a blow job when you technically know the guy, not to mention that would be really fucking awkward if we ever met again. And since he knows the owner of the gallery my work is in, and probably will be again, there's a possibility that we'd run into each other. Not to mention we both live in New York, technically, at the moment. Wouldn't it be just my luck if he's really hot, sexy, smart, arrogant, and is more similar to Brian than me? Oh god! I can't think like that, let's hope he's decent looking enough that I'll attract more attention wherever we go and if we end up at a bar or club he'll be open to me finding a willing mouth somewhere. That sounds kind of heartless, huh? Well, I'd dwell on that, but then again, the guys willing to serve have no problems whatsoever with being the trick.

Whatever, I'll just play it by ear, and see how it goes. It's not like I'm gonna fall in love, right?