I couldn't let New Year's Eve go by without a little appearance by the boys. Just some fluff before I go back to my other stories. Hope you enjoy it.:)

New Year's Eve – New York City – 11:30 p.m. – Post 513

Justin nursed the watered-down glass of scotch in his hand, the sounds of animated conversation and loud music permeating the large banquet room. Outside the expansive windows it was clear and moonless for New Year's Eve; the twinkle of skyscraper lights overlooking the restaurant's 44th-floor balcony, though, sparkled like thousands and thousands of stars and made for a breathtaking view in the inky blackness of the cold, crisp night.

He had managed to part-shuffle, part-push his way toward the windows to get a better look at the view, finding the space a little less constrictive near the exterior walls than in the midst of so many other revelers. Even now after all these years, whenever he was in such a large crowd as this he still found it just a little suffocating. He let out a breath of relief as he pressed his free hand against the coolness of the glass, finding his face reflected back at him as he stood there and admired the panoramic view.

It was a slightly wiser-looking face now, a face transformed by both emotional experience and age, but he still looked younger than his 23 years. He grimaced at the boyish-looking countenance staring back at him; he supposed he would probably always look that way. He sighed as he took a sip from his glass, wondering what he was even doing here; the holidays always did fill him with a certain type of melancholy, especially when he had to spend them apart from his family and friends, and, of course, especially Brian, and this evening was no exception.

He and his partner had made plans to be together on New Year's Eve – they had intended to spend it here in New York City at one of the more exclusive gay dance clubs, partying the night away like they used to do, unmindful of no one else but themselves as they danced together to the pulsating beat of one song after another and waited for the new year to arrive. They had planned to stay there until midnight and then go back to Brian's hotel room, 'celebrating' the rest of the night in true Kinney-Taylor fashion like they normally did by fucking each other's brains out and then falling asleep in each other's arms.

He had been looking forward to it for weeks now; hell, he had been looking forward to it ever since he had left the Pitts months ago, even though he and Brian had managed to see each other quite often since then. This was supposed to be a special night for them; New Year's Eve was always a magical time, especially in New York City. The entire city seemed to come alive and celebrate in one, big, boisterous party. It was a time to reflect back on the past and to look forward to the future, and ever since Brian had suggested they spend it together a couple of months ago he had been eagerly anticipating this day. Unfortunately, though, one of Brian's biggest clients had decided that he needed to take his company in a radically new direction and needed a new marketing strategy to go with it. He wanted to start fresh in January with a bold television and print ad just in time for the Super Bowl, which meant that he wanted Brian to get to work on it NOW, which also meant that his partner had been forced to break off their plans for this evening, much to their mutual disappointment. Justin, of course, having to do the same from time to time because of his own commitments, understood but it didn't make his frustration or dissatisfaction over them not being together any less profound.

So now instead of spending it with Brian, he was standing there in a sea of people who were becoming louder and louder the drunker they became, attending some insipid New Year's Eve party at the insistence of another artist friend of his who had chided him for even thinking of staying home on such a grand occasion as tonight. He had kept reminding Justin that networking was important to an artist, and this event, geared toward the affluent, theater/arts crowd, was perfect for that purpose. His friend had managed to wrangle a couple of free admission tickets to the private party through a contact of his and had insisted that he come with him to break him out of his doldrums.

Justin had reluctantly agreed to go, partly because Brian had told him he would be an idiot not to take advantage of it and partly because his partner had bought him that outrageously expensive Hugo Boss suit for their non-wedding a while back. So with a half-hearted acceptance, he had dusted off the same tailor-made, custom suit that he had thought he would be married in and had taken a taxi with his friend to the Palms Court Restaurant, situated in a mid-town Manhattan high rise, to help usher in the New Year.

He had played the dutiful little partygoer for a while, trying his best to mingle with the other guests, but most were older than he and of the snooty variety. They were dripping in diamonds and Rolex watches, more interested in the latest book on the New York Times Best Seller List or which Broadway actor would be nominated for next year's Tony Awards. At least he had gained some insider trading tips on which stocks to buy through his eavesdropping – if he ever had enough money to buy any, that is. Right now his main concern was merely getting by from month to month with his waiter's job in order to pay his rent, utilities, and food. He had only managed to sell a few of his paintings so far; at least, the article in Art Forum magazine had served to get his foot in the door just enough to have them displayed in some small, off-the-beaten-path galleries, but not anywhere near enough, though, to claim it as a source of survival in such an outrageously-expensive city.

He smirked; in a way, these people here reminded him of the types of friends Ethan had always tried to foist on him when they were together. Only later when he was thankfully reunited with Brian did he realize how much his lover was trying to reshape him into someone he never was. He was never the turtleneck-clad, intellectual kind, standing around with a cigarette in his hand as he discussed the latest classical music CD releases or which French movie was the greatest of all time. He had found those occasions with Ethan to be dreadfully boring and bland, and had found every excuse in the book to leave at the earliest opportunity, kind of like he was feeling right now.

He glanced over at a large, round, chrome clock that had been placed near the top of the entrance door just for tonight to help keep the partygoers apprised of how much longer it would be before the new year was ushered in, finding that he had 25 minutes to go before midnight. He thought fleetingly of just bidding his friend, Aaron, a goodbye and riding the subway back to his apartment, but seeing as though he hadn't glimpsed his friend in ages he thought that might not be so easy to do. Besides, it was close enough now to midnight that he thought he might as well stay. He wasn't sure what the restaurant had planned for the stroke of midnight, but he figured that perhaps it might be worth sticking around just long enough to find out; it wasn't everyday that he was invited to such a lavish event. At least then he could tell Brian that he had made good on his promise to go out and 'celebrate' New Year's, even though without him it wasn't much of a celebration.

"Justin!"

He turned, thinking he had heard someone call his name, but he didn't see anyone looking his way in the mass of bodies.

"Hey…Justin!"

That was definitely someone calling him nearby, he decided; he craned his head sideways to make out Aaron heading his way, a pointy, multi-colored New Year's hat on his head secured by a rubber band. He had a curled-up party horn in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. "There you are!" He said loudly, feeling no pain after having drunk his third beer. "I've been looking all OVER for you, man! Having a good time?"

Aaron was a few years older than Justin, red-haired with green eyes and a stocky, almost football-player type build. He seemed an unlikely type to be a sculptor, but he had told Justin it had been his passion ever since his mom had bought him a six pack of Playdoh as a child when he was four. Having felt like he had been born with a paintbrush in his hand himself, Justin could well understand that feeling; he forced a smile on his face as he stared over at his friend, trying to be courteous in light of Aaron's attempt to help advance his career. "Yeah, sure," he said lightly. "The view here is incredible, too."

Dressed in a dark-gray leather jacket and pants, topped off with a trendy, light-blue satin shirt, Aaron snorted. "Bullshit, Taylor! You're bored as hell!" He winked at his friend as he said, "Now if you were batting for the right team, my friend over there has a girlfriend that would be more than willing to help you out; she thinks you're hot, Cowboy."

Justin followed Aaron's gaze over to a couple of younger women standing near the curved, mahogany bar. One was a wispy, taller blond with a plunging, V-neck, sleeveless royal blue wrap dress while the other one was shorter and slender with long, dark hair and blue eyes; she was clad in a silver mini-dress with a rounded neckline and sparkling rhinestones on her ears and around her neck. The dark-haired woman looked over and smiled seductively at Justin as he groaned inwardly. Whether it was a man or a woman, the signs of flirtation were still the same. Unfortunately, though, she was wasting her time, even though she was very attractive.

"Well, you know that's not going to happen," Justin told him firmly as he returned his attention back to his friend. "Tell me you didn't promise her anything."

Aaron shrugged with a grin. "No," he reassured him to his relief. "But I thought if I at least came over and acted like I was trying, I could score a few points with the other girl later."

Justin shook his head in amusement. "Well, tell her you gave it the old college try, but I'm spoken for." That was true enough, he realized; no one would ever replace Brian. No one ever could.

"Yeah, I know but she doesn't," he said with a laugh. He was just about to ask Justin if he wouldn't mind leaving alone afterward, thinking he might be 'indisposed,' before a sudden thought occurred to him. "Hey, listen! I almost forgot. Maybe you'll get lucky after all," he said with a smirk. Justin frowned as he watched Aaron reach inside his leather jacket and fish out a small, plain-white envelope with the flap tucked in. "Some really hot guy saw us talking earlier and asked me to give this to you." He handed it to Justin, who studied it curiously. There was no writing on the outside to indicate what was inside or who it had come from.

"Who's it from?" Justin asked.

Aaron shrugged. "Never saw him before in my life. But he was dressed to the nines and was sure intent on making sure I gave this to you. He even paid for my drink. Said to make sure I personally handed it to you." He grinned. "I know you're spoken for, as you put it, butI won't tell if YOU won't tell. Quit being such a wet blanket." With that, he called out a "Good Luck" before he quickly disappeared back into the boisterous crowd, leaving Justin once more by himself.

Justin studied the envelope. What in the hell? He glanced around a little self-consciously, trying to determine if anyone was watching him to gauge his reaction, but everyone seemed caught up in their own little cliques of conversation and were not paying him any mind. Furrowing his brow as he bit his lower lip, he cautiously placed his index finger under the flap and opened it, noting there was a matching, white, folded piece of paper inside. Taking one more surreptitious look around him but finding no one watching him, he slowly pulled the paper out and unfolded it to read the message:

No one should be alone on New Year's Eve. You are so beautiful. I really want to kiss you when the ball drops. Please meet me out on the balcony at midnight.

Justin'shands trembled with excitement; Aaron might not have recognized the man, but Justin knew exactly who it was; he would know that handwriting anywhere. He glanced over at the clock, noting it was now 11:59. He had just enough time to work his way over to the French doors leading out to the balcony to greet his 'admirer.'

His heart pounding with anticipation, he placed his watery drink down on the ledge nearby with a decided 'clunk' as he elbowed his way determinedly through the rowdy crowd, not caring about anything else but being on that balcony by midnight. He reached the doors with just thirty seconds to spare as he heard the crowd beginning to count down with one collective shout:

30...29...28...27...26...25

He yanked the doors open as his eyes immediately fell upon a gorgeous, dark-haired man wearing a familiar, custom-made, elegant, black suit with a white silk shirt and a gray-and-white tie; on the small, round, glass-topped table nearby were two champagne goblets and one single, red rose.

Justin's smile threatened to rival the fireworks that promptly exploded in the sky above Manhattan as the clock struck midnight and he flew into Brian's outstretched arms, just in time for their lips to come together for their first passionate kiss of the New Year. At that moment, he didn't care how Brian had managed to get there; he knew there would be plenty of time to ask questions later. As they continued to kiss and he felt his partner's arms wind around his back to pull him in tighter, he sighed in contentment. For now, this was enough – this was more than enough.

A/N: I'm not sure what the brand of suit was the boys picked out in Ep. 513, so I picked Hugo Boss. Hope everyone has a great New Year!