"lay here it's safe here I'll let you be broken open
hide here confide here so we can be broken open
lay here it's safe here I'll let you be broken open
hide here confide here so we can be broken open"

December 2013
**Justin**

"Are you sure Gus won't mind?" Justin was nervous, pacing the apartment.

"For the last time. I'm sure, Jesus," Brian grumbled, checking his phone once again. "He knows who you are, so just fucking relax."

Justin sighed. He couldn't relax, he was so nervous! This was the first time he'd be seeing Gus – Justin couldn't really count the times he spent with the kid when he was just a toddler as anything substantial or meaningful. So really, it was like he was meeting him for the first time and Justin didn't want Gus to think he was trying to take away the time he usually spent with Brian at Christmas.

"Stop," Brian's arms suddenly wrapped around Justin and he pulled him tight. "I'm not going to Colorado without you, and so even if Gus weren't cool with you coming along, he'd just have to deal with it."

Brian's lips pressed to Justin's ear and Justin did relax then, leaning back into Brian's body and letting out a long, deep breath.

"I can't help it," Justin said, "I want him to like me."

"He will," Brian whispered, biting gently at Justin's earlobe, "just don't talk to him like he's still the four year-old kid you remember and you'll get along great."

"Fuck off," Justin laughed, stepping away from Brian before turning around and wrapping his arms around Brain's waist.

Brian phoned buzzed then, and with raised eyebrows he pinched Justin's ass before letting him go.

"And it appears they're here."

Justin's nerves reasserted themselves and he resumed his pacing.

He'd only just moved to New York; he hadn't even finished unpacking all his stuff, boxes of books and art supplies were still stacked in the corners of Brian's living room.

It had been an arduous journey to get to this point. After Justin had returned to Los Angeles in April, he and Brian didn't talk on the phone for almost three months. They didn't speak at all until July, when Brian called to tell Justin he'd be in LA for Kinnetik business.

Justin had found it hard – being in LA alone. He missed Brian every day; sometimes in the morning, or noon, sometimes at night... He thought about calling him so many times, while he also knew it was defeating the purpose of his return to LA by dwelling on Brian. Still, that didn't stop him from thinking about him every day, as hard as he tried not to do so.

But he'd also found the time he was alone freeing. Sure, Brian was on his mind, but it wasn't like before. It didn't pierce his heart to picture the other man's face, and it didn't send him into a dizzying paralysis to imagine his hands on him, or his lips kissing him. This time the thoughts were pleasant (if not a bit distracting at times). Justin would occasionally, almost every week, question his decision to leave Brain back in New York, but then he'd realize it had been the wiser decision. Even with missing Brian, Justin felt stronger being in LA and on his own than he'd ever felt in any other point in his life.

It hadn't all been easy for Justin in the months he was away from Brian though, either. He'd have his good days, but then he'd have a really bad day where he'd feel angry and disappointed in himself for even considering going back to Brian after all the pain he'd caused him; but then Justin would remember the tender moments too, the sweetness that Brian had exhibited not only in their last encounter but also over the years. He'd remember all the reasons he'd fallen in love with the asshole in the first place, and he'd remember the thoughts and the reasons that had led him back to his doorstep in April.

When those thoughts surfaced, it was hard not to call just to check up on him. Justin knew, rationally, that if something happened to Brian Lindsay would let him know, but he still felt a deep anxiety with no contact for months on end. He wondered what Brian was doing; and he wondered who Brian was doing (now that Sean was gone). Justin knew Brian was going out – he had to be, right? – it likely wasn't on the same scale as before. Justin knew Brian was still self-conscious about his scars, but Justin also knew Brian wouldn't (couldn't?) go without sex for all those months. He tried not to let it bother him, even as he grew more sexually frustrated himself. But Justin didn't want to go out and have some random encounter. He didn't want a strange man's hands, or mouth, or dick, on him or touching him or inside him. So Justin bottled up his frustrations and thoughts of Brian doing just that – so when Brian arrived in LA in July it all came crashing out – nearly ending the precarious start they'd begun building in April.

It started with an offhand comment Brian made about a decorative choice in Justin's place. When Justin replied that the 'awful blue' accent wall had been Aaron's idea (one he had secretly hated from the moment the first coat of paint had been put down), Brian scoffed and uttered four words that chaffed Justin the wrong way.

"What an unimaginative asshole."

They'd had a wonderful week together up to that point; Brian had a room in a hotel, but had been staying with Justin at night when he wasn't in his various meetings with the potential clients he'd come to California to schmooze. They'd had dinner, and talked and generally began reconnecting in a more meaningful way. But those four words, and the attitude with which they were delivered, bothered Justin more than he really knew they should.

He knew Brian thought very little of Aaron, he'd made no secret of that from the very beginning, but up until that moment it hadn't really bothered Justin all that much. But there was something in the way he said those words, something in the way he rolled his eyes and the way he seemed to look at everything around him - everything in Justin's home - with a disdainful eye that sent Justin's bottled up frustrations over the edge and he snapped. The camel's back had been broken and he could no longer hold back.

"He was not unimaginative," Justin said, not bothering to hide his annoyance and when Brian simply looked at him with an arched brow Justin felt his rage boil over.

"You know what Brian? You should be kissing Aaron's ass - because without him, I might be dead. He saved me from pain and heartache YOU caused – and this," Justin gestured emphatically between them, "this is only happening now because of him. Because he helped me get over your abandonment, and he helped me learn to live again."

Brian was silent, and Justin felt the briefest moment of guilt as he saw several emotions cross Brian's features – hurt, sadness, guilt – but then Brian's expression cleared before hardening, his jaw clenched tight.

"You're defending him now?" Brian growled through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing with anger.

Justin's heart was racing, his hands balled into fists. He'd thought he was over this - over what Brian had done - but apparently not.

"No. I'm not defending him. But you also have no right to attack him. In fact you have no right to say anything about him at all. You don't even know him, and you don't know what I went through or how he helped me. So just stop," Justin angrily yelled back.

"I can go if you'd like to call up your savior and reunite," Brian's voice was low, his cheeks slightly flushed, and his hands were also balled into fists.

"Oh my God. Stop being such a fucking drama queen, Jesus," Justin rolled his eyes.

Brian's arms crossed in front of him, "Well you've obviously got some unresolved feelings for him."

"No, actually, I don't," Justin sighed, forcing himself to calm down as he moved to sit at the kitchen table, absently thumbing through the stack of mail sitting there, "but I do have some unresolved feelings about you."

A silence descended, thick with tension. Justin heard the automatic ice maker in the freezer drop cubes into the tray before the water ran to refill the trays.

"Go on," Brian said softly, a hint of arrogant anger just barely detectable.

Justin looked up at him and wondered if these feelings he had would ever go away. He wondered if the residual anger and resentment would ever leave him; he wondered if he and Brian would ever really work. The thing was, he wanted desperately to stop feeling the way he felt in that moment – angry, abandoned, unloved - because he knew Brian loved him, and he knew what he'd done all those years ago had not been out of anger, or spite, or as a punishment for some unknown hurt Justin might have caused; but even with that knowledge at the forefront of his mind the point was Justin had suffered a lot of pain from it, and Brian didn't even know the half of it; and maybe he needed to know.

"I don't want to hurt you," Justin said, knowing how trite it sounded but still wanting and needing Brian to understand that he wasn't trying to make Brian feel bad, or worse than he already did, but Brian also needed to know – he needed to really understand the deep pain his actions had caused Justin.

"I can take it," Brian said, his voice even and calm, his face expressionless.

"Yeah," Justin stared at Brian for a moment, "you can."

And he started talking - telling Brian about every dark moment, every emotional breakdown, every drunken encounter he could recall and how it all stemmed from the way Brian's actions had affected Justin. He told Brian about the moment he decided to stop drinking and partying, and how it was Aaron who had helped him from getting accosted and raped in the dance club the last night Justin had anything to drink, or took any drugs. He told Brian about Aaron's patience, and understanding, and caring. How Justin had been awful and cruel and mean yet Aaron had been patient (mostly) and nurtured him and helped him find his way out of the dark pit Brian's abandonment had left him in. He told Brian how he'd thought he and Aaron would have lived a happy life together, married, maybe with kids, if Brian hadn't made his reappearance suddenly that night in Boston, and cast a shadow of doubt over everything Justin had built with Aaron.

"When I saw you, in Boston, and then in New York, and again in Pittsburgh, I slowly realized I wasn't in-love with Aaron. Not like I had been with you, not like I still was with you. Even after all that awfulness around Rage I still felt the connection we had, that we've had since the beginning."

"So you can be happy you 'won', or whatever – because I know you are – but you don't get to be righteous. Not about you and me, and not at Aaron's expense," Justin stated, "because without Aaron, you wouldn't even have me."

"It's too bad you aren't in love with him," Brian said quietly.

"Yeah, it is," Justin agreed and he saw Brian visibly flinch. It was true, though. No doubt Aaron would be the healthier partner, the 'safer' choice, but Justin couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. He couldn't settle for safe, not when the site of Brian still sent shock waves through his body, making him dizzy and weak and breathless for just more of him.

"But I'm not in-love Aaron, I'm in-love with you. And maybe I could have pretended with him for the rest of our lives, but like I just said, when you came back into my life that option went right out the window."

Justin stood and approached Brian who still stood with his arms crossed, defensive in posture.

"Brian?"

"I should go back to the hotel," Brian's face was void of any emotion, and he stepped back when Justin reached out to touch him.

"Don't go-," Justin started but Brian moved suddenly, pressing his lips to Justin's to silence him.

"I'll be back," Brian whispered against Justin's lips, "Just not tonight."

Then he was gone, and Justin spent a restless, sleepless night wondering if he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life dredging up all the crap again.

The following day, Friday, Brian showed up at Justin's just after 7 pm. Justin hadn't heard from him since he'd left the night before and throughout the day had become incredibly anxious as the hours passed and he didn't hear from him. He was certain Brian had run off once again, back to New York and out of Justin's life, and that what they'd barely gotten back off the ground was once again over.

But when Justin opened his door to see Brian standing there, a relief so profound washed over him he thought he might burst into tears. That was when he knew that regardless of the residual pain he still felt over what Brian had done, he could (and would) move past it because he wanted to be with Brian more than he wanted to be without him. And being with anyone else wasn't even an option that he could consider in any seriousness.

"Bri-," Justin started but Brian cut him off.

"No. Now it's my turn," Brian said and when Justin nodded and stepped aside to let Brian in, the other man hesitated for a moment before walking into Justin's place.

Once inside, Brian turned to face Justin, "First of all, I'm sorry."

"No caveats, no excuses. I'm sorry for all of it. For everything. I know I said it before, but I didn't really understand before."

Brian paused and looked at Justin with such openness, his eyes seeming to plead with Justin to understand what he said, to get that he really meant every word.

"I get it now, and you don't know how much I...," Brian's voice trailed off and he swallowed. He was visibly upset, and Justin wanted simply to take him into his arms, but he also knew Brian needed to say whatever it was he came intending to say, he could see how important it was for him – so Justin remained quiet, and he kept his distance.

"I really thought I was doing you a favor, and if I'd had any idea of what you were suffering...of how bad it was…," Brian shook his head, "I'm just so goddamn, fucking sorry. I can't even tell you how much I wish I could take it all back. How much I hate myself for hurting you like that."

When a small tear leaked from the corner of one of Brian's eyes, Justin was spurred into action and finished or not, he grasped Brian's face with his hands, subtly wiping the tear away with his thumb in the process.

"I know you're sorry," Justin said, "and I want to forgive you. I am forgiving you, it just might take a little time before all the pain fades away."

"I just don't...I don't want to lose you again." Brian said softly, "I don't think I could handle it."

"Don't hurt me like that again, and you won't," Justin smiled gently.

Brian nodded, "I can't promise I won't ever hurt you, at least not on purpose, but I can promise I will never leave you again."

Justin smiled, relieved in a strange way. He would have been worried had Brian tried to promise never to hurt him because Justin knew, better than almost anyone, that a promise like that would be impossible for anyone to keep, let alone Brian.

Justin rose up on his toes and kissed Brian, silently begging with his tongue, and it didn't take much before Brian was pulling Justin towards the bedroom, both of them dropping their clothes on their way.

The remainder of Brian's time in LA was nothing but good. The duo spent the next couple days at the beach before returning to Justin's to eat sushi, or Thai, before they'd fuck each other senseless and it was as the hour of Brian's departure approached that he gave himself to Justin; and for the first time in over a decade, Justin topped and Brian bottomed.

They didn't talk about the second elephant in the room at all that week, namely when, or how, or if Justin would be moving to New York. He'd been alone for nearly three months, and felt pretty good - like he might actually know himself again. But throughout the week that Brian was there, and particularly in the last couple days Justin could see he was struggling with himself about something - and Justin assumed it was to do with his continued presence in LA, and no talk of what would happen with their relationship into the future.

Justin still wasn't sure what his future held. He knew he wanted Brian in his life, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to leave Los Angeles just yet. A large part of him wanted to cut all ties and just go to New York, but Justin also refused to go without a way to support himself. He wouldn't be "kept" by Brian, though no doubt the other man wouldn't care if Justin worked or not. So Justin made a pact with himself - he'd move to New York if (or when) he could get a job in animation there.

It was mid-September when Brian finally broached the topic on the phone. After Brian's visit in July they started calling each other a few times a week. They wouldn't talk long, or about too much, but they would check in, and always end the call with mind-blowing phone sex – if phone sex could be mind blowing (and with Brian all sex was mind blowing). But finally it would seem Brian's patience was waning and he flat out asked if Justin ever planned to come to New York - or if he expected Brian to move to LA. That was when Justin confessed his plan, and his continued failure to find a job. Brian offered him work at Kinnetik, just temporary until he found something else, but Justin refused. He had to do this on his own, he told Brian, and he could tell the older man was frustrated at is stubborn insistence about it. But Justin could only laugh. It was one thing about him that hadn't changed; his determination to do things on his own, in his own way. He was no longer a 19-year old dancing as a go-go boy just to pay for college, but a grown man making his own way and he had to do it on his own merits. He had to earn it on his own talents – it was vitally important to him that he do it himself.

Brian said he understood, but Justin didn't quite believe him.

It was rough though, and Justin was losing hope because the hard reality was the animation field was shrinking – particularly the brand of work Justin wanted to do, a mix of computer and hand-drawn. Justin even took a few night classes at Cal Arts to beef up on the current technology in computer animation, to be more competitive. But the simple fact was it was next to impossible to find work – unless you knew someone – and being in LA it was even harder for Justin to get taken seriously by any of the animation houses and studios in New York. For months, Justin slaved away at his portfolio, and for months he got rejection after rejection until there were only a few places left he hadn't tried.

As the months progressed, and when Justin wasn't working his day job, he was spending his time fine tuning his portfolio and sending packages off to the last few remaining studios that hadn't rejected him already. It was just before Thanksgiving that he finally got a call. The New York office of Nickelodean Studios wanted to interview him – but in Los Angeles. Justin, who had been planning to go to New York for the holiday to finally meet Gus, had to cancel his plans so he could prepare for the interview.

But in the end it all worked out; it was worth it – because Justin was offered a lead animator position in the room, and as soon as Justin stepped out of the room, signed contract in hand, he called Ross to give him his notice; then he called Brian. Three weeks later, Justin was officially moving into Brian's place and only a few days after that he was nervously pacing the apartment while he waited to meet (again) Brian's now grown, teenaged son.

"How long will it take them to get here from Union Station?" Justin wrung his hands, his stomach rolling with nerves.

Brian laughed at him, loud and long causing Justin to scowl.

"Fuck. You," Justin growled before involuntarily cracking a smile. He knew how silly it was to be so nervous but this was a big deal. Justin planned to be in Brian's life forever, and as such he was going to be in Gus's life too. It would be disastrous if they didn't get along.

"Maybe twenty minutes," Brian finally answered.

"Right," Justin breathed deeply, moving to the windows to stare out at the glorious view of the Empire State Building.

Justin had been a bit unsure about moving into Brian's place – after all it was a place where Brian had spent time, years, with Sean, and probably other strange men too. And Brian must have sensed that nervousness because he asked Justin on his first night there if he wanted to try and find another place, somewhere they could choose to live in together. But after a few days of being in New York, in Brian's place, Justin couldn't imagine living anywhere else because in the end it simply felt like "Brian" and that feeling trumped everything else.

"Will you please relax," Brian said, moving to stand next to Justin, his hand resting on the nape of Justin's neck as his fingers gently massaged and played with the short hairs there.

Justin tried to offer a reassuring smile when suddenly there was a loud, persistent knock on Brian's door. His heart leapt into his throat and he jumped slightly.

Brian arched an eyebrow before laughing softly and moving to open the door.

Lindsay came in first, grinning broadly and tugging a giant suitcase behind her. Justin calmed somewhat at seeing her familiar smile but when Gus came in after her, his nervous energy escalated again. The various photos Brian had shown Justin had not prepared him for the sight of the kid because he was even more of a clone of Brian than expected – except his eyes; his eyes were Lindsay's. But he was tall and gangly - all arms and legs - only a few inches shorter than Brian. His hair was the exact same shade and had the exact same ridiculous cowlick in the front. Justin watched him grin as Brian enveloped him in a giant hug; it was odd, because even though everything about him was Brian, in that moment he saw Lindsay in him, too.

Then Brian was standing in front of him with Gus at his side, grinning like the proud father he obviously was as he presented Gus to him; or maybe Brian was presenting Justin to Gus? Either way, it was happening.

"Gus, this is Justin," Brian smirked, giving Justin a wink and Justin flashed him back a tiny glare before he turned his attention to the young man standing before him. He might have been a few inches shorter than Brian, but he was already taller than Justin.

"Justin knew you when you were little," Lindsay piped up, moving to stand on the other side of Gus and Justin was faced with staring at the unconventional family. It was odd – even though he had seen Brian, Gus, and Lindsay together so many times back when Gus was a baby, seeing them standing there 13 years later…it was all so very surreal.

"Hi Gus," Justin held out his hand to the young man, smiling warmly and feeling oddly at ease as he realized there was no reason he should be nervous, or afraid of Gus. He was Brian and Lindsay's kid.

"Hey," Gus gripped Justin's hand in return and smiled crookedly while Brian stood next to Gus, an impish grin on his face that seemed to tease Justin for his nerves just moments earlier.

"Great. So, you guys hungry? Shall we go get some dinner?" Brian said, winking again at Justin as Gus and Lindsay heartily agreed.

"So we're not going to Stowe Mountain this year," Brian said. They were at dinner – having just ordered – and both Lindsay and Gus turned to stare at Brian.

"What? Why not!" Gus exclaimed, his voice rising and his face betraying his young, teen anger at the unfairness of the decision.

"Because we're going to Colorado instead," Brian said nonchalantly as he sipped his beer.

Justin bit back a smile as he watched Gus's face register several emotions before he broke out into a wide grin and bounced in his chair, pumping his fist into the air.

"Sweet!" he exclaimed quite loudly, causing several of the restaurant goers around them to look over curiously.

"Thought you'd like that," Brian replied calmly, but Justin could see the joy in his sparkling eyes, and it only made him love the man even more.

They flew first class, of course, and though Justin wanted nothing more than to do it, he refused Brian's incessant requests throughout the roughly three hour flight to join the "Mile High" club.

As they were approaching Denver, and beginning to descend, Justin reached his hand over and ran his fingers up the inside of Brian's thigh before stroking his cock through his jeans and whispering in his ear, "We can join the Mile High Club after we land because after all, we'll still be over a Mile High when we get to the condo."

Brian's breathy groan was all the answer Justin needed and he grinned wickedly, particularly amused when Brian had to depart the plane with his hands over his groin, and even more amused when he ducked into the first bathroom they came too and took an inordinate amount of time before coming back out.

He shot Justin a narrow-eyed glare as Gus quipped, "Did you fall in? Geez, dad!"

"Just you wait," Brian whispered, pinching Justin's butt hard enough to leave a tiny mark, but Justin didn't mind. All the build-up would only mean when they finally got to the condo in Vail, that they'd have on epic night of fucking in store…Justin only hoped the rooms that Lindsay and Gus had in the place did not have shared walls because he couldn't guarantee he could keep all that quiet.

It was on the second day at Vail that Justin's good-time came to a painful end.

The mountain was crowded and a weather system had moved into the Colorado mountains. It was snowing big, fat flakes and obscuring the view save for maybe 20 feet ahead and Justin's quads ached from the effort of staying up on the snowboard. He'd only gone snowboarding a few times before, and though California boasted some awesome slopes they didn't quite compare with the vastness that was Vail and he was quickly learning he wasn't as in shape as he thought.

Justin was halfway through his third run of the day, Gus somewhere behind him cheering him on and keeping him company while Brian was likely down at the bottom of the slope already – unwilling to take it slow like Justin and Gus – when a couple of what looked to be younger kids on ski's whipped right across Justin's path, causing him to twist his body suddenly to avoid a collision. As a result of his sudden turn, his snowboard caught an edge made by some skier earlier in the day and he fell forward, all his momentum pushing him down towards the ground alarmingly fast.

Instinctively, Justin reached his arms out to break his fall and while he did manage to break some of his fall, he also felt something pop in his left elbow while simultaneously his left wrist exploded in white hot pain before his head collided the snow, hard, and he saw stars burst in his field of view, even though he was wearing a helmet.

He laid there on the snowy slope while skiers and snowboarders maneuvered around him. Groaning, he finally rolled onto his back, his left arm hot with pain. His mouth, full of snow, tasted coppery and when he spit there was blood. He cursed under his breath, thankful for the protection of his goggles, as all he needed to add to his apparent list of injuries was one, or two, black eyes.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Gus's concerned face suddenly appeared above Justin.

"I don't think so," he panted back, groaning and wincing with the effort it took to sit up; he could feel his pulse in the throbbing of his wrist.

"Um, what should I do? Should I go get my dad?" Gus's brow furrowed and even through his goggles Justin could tell he was starting to freak out a little bit.

"No," Justin held his left arm to his chest and raised his right hand up towards Gus, "Just help me up."

Gus popped one foot out of the binding of his snowboard, grasping Justin's gloved hand with his.

With Gus's help Justin rose to standing, his feet still secured in his snowboard, but the movement sent fresh shots of pain down his arm making him feel nauseated. He focused on his board, and the crunching of the snow beneath it as he breathed in and out, willing the pain to lessen enough so he could move without feeling like he wanted to pass out.

Gus stood by him, his face still a mask of worry and concern.

Justin smiled as best he could and nodded towards the down-slope of the run.

"Go ahead, I'll be right behind you."

Gus seemed unwilling to go, his expression clearly betraying his doubt that Justin could make it down the slope on his own.

"It's okay," Justin smiled again, this time hoping it looked more natural, "I'll be slow, but I'll make it."

Gus arched his eyebrows in an eerily Brian-like way that almost made Justin laugh out loud, but then he popped his boot back into the binding and with one last doubtful look, took off down the slope. Justin watched until he'd disappeared into the near white-out conditions – Justin was certain the snow had increased in intensity in the ten or so minutes he'd been on the ground – before he groaned out loud again, sighing heavily and really, really not looking forward to the journey to the base of the mountain. He had a feeling it would be a long, painful trip.

Ever so slowly, Justin angled his board and started down the slope. Each shift and turn he had to make to maneuver the people around him sending fresh shots of pain through him, but he gritted his teeth and focused on just the next few feet ahead of him and knowing eventually the slope would end and he'd find himself at the base with access to the lodge, and hot coffee and God-willing, some painkillers.

He wasn't sure how long it took, but it was probably close to thirty minutes before he finally began to make out, through the heavily falling curtain of snow, the dark outline of the ski lift and the surrounding buildings. As the slope leveled out to the base of the mountain Justin sighed deeply with relief, and ignoring the pain in his arm he leaned down to unbuckle his boots from their bindings, ready to give up snowboarding for good.

"What the fuck are you doing!"

Justin freed his feet and straightened back up to standing to find Brian, his face screwed up angrily, and Gus, who looked scared, standing in front of him.

"What?"

"Gus said you fell, hard, that you hurt your arm," Brian stepped forward, his ski boots squeaking and crunching in the snow as he reached a gloved hand out and tenderly gripped Justin's chin, "he said your mouth was bleeding too. What the fuck? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Justin nodded but Brian just stared at him.

"Okay. No," Justin panted.

"Jesus, I almost sent the ski patrol out after you," Brian hands were on Justin, lighting on his shoulders, his face, his head. "How badly are you hurt? Your arm? Is it okay?"

Justin tried to smile, but he could see in Brian's reaction that it had failed to provide any comfort or reassurance that Justin was okay.

"Shit," Brian shook his head and sighed.

"Gus, go find your mom in the Lodge," Brian gripped Justin's uninjured arm and steered him towards the nearby medical office, indicated by the red cross on the frosted windows.

Two hours later, Brian and Justin were no longer at the resort but instead at Vail Valley Medical Center where Justin was getting a cast and an arm sling. He'd broken three bones in his wrist, and severally sprained his elbow in the fall. They'd also done a CT scan to check for a concussion, but that came back clear.

"Guess I'm done for the week," Justin mumbled as they left the Medical Center, the snow still falling fast and furiously, piling up quickly. "And all this fresh powder. Shit. You guys will have a great time on the mountain tomorrow."

"We'll miss you," Brian said and Justin scoffed.

"Yeah, right," he replied, "I think Gus hung back with me out of pity."

"You're probably right," Brian said, "Gus is a pretty extraordinary boarder. But don't feel too bad, he probably just wanted to make sure you didn't eat shit. Oh…wait…"

Justin smacked Brian's shoulder hard as the older man laughed.

"Asshole," Justin snickered.

"What will you do while Gus and I are cutting it up on the slopes?" Brian asked helping Justin climb, one-armed, into the giant SUV he'd rented. It was only a mile back to the condo, but they couldn't walk – it was too damn cold, too damn snowy, and Justin was slightly incapacitated by pain medication.

"Oh, Lindsay and I will hang out. Chit chat. Maybe shop. Or maybe I'll sketch some," Justin laughed. The pain meds were beginning to kick in full force making him feel loopy.

"That should be fun," Brian murmured and Justin heard the sarcasm in his tone.

"Yeah, it will be," he mumbled back, his mouth and tongue feeling heavy and his brain sluggish. The last thing he remembered was Brian pulling the car out onto the snow-packed road and then the next thing he knew, it was morning and Brian was out of bed and putting on his ski pants for another day on the mountain.

"Hey gimp," Brian teased when he caught Justin watching him.

"I didn't injure my legs, jerk," Justin grumbled. His elbow was extremely sore, and his wrist felt four times too big.

"Pain meds are on the nightstand," Brian crawled across the bed, his ski pants noisily chaffing. "And don't worry – I'll help you clean up later in the shower."

Brian lowered his face to Justin's, kissing him long and deep, before jumping up from the bed and leaving Justin alone with an arousal he had to take care of on his own.

Justin and Lindsay headed out about an hour later, planning to settle themselves in the lodge. There was a nice area that afforded a view of the base of the mountain and one of the several ski lifts, with large, cushy armchairs and a giant fireplace made of river rock.

Lindsay had a book with her, and Justin was toting a bag with a sketch pad and a small assortment of colored pencils. It'd been ages since he'd sketched for the fun of it – his work in the concept art world ruining some of the joy of it – but since reuniting with Brian, and watching him with Gus, he was feeling inspired again.

Ordering coffees and claiming a couple chairs near the fireplace, they settled in, each lost in their own world. Justin liked that he could sit quietly with Lindsay without the need for conversation. He liked that the level of comfort their decade-plus friendship afforded them.

Justin was doodling aimlessly, searching for the last little bit of inspiration that would send him down the path to a completed drawing when Lindsay sighed heavily from the opposite chair.

Glancing up, Justin saw her leaning her head back with her eyes closed. The book she'd been reading was closed and sitting on the table that sat between them.

"What's wrong?" he asked, setting his pencil down and lifting his coffee. It was irritating, having only one working arm, as each time he wanted to take a drink of his coffee he had to put down his pencils.

"Can I ask you something?" Lindsay lifted her head and eyed Justin curiously.

"Sure," Justin shrugged.

"Why'd you come back? To Brian I mean?" Lindsay asked and Justin balked a little with surprise at the question.

Opening his mouth to answer he paused, a bit unsure he had heard Lindsay correctly.

"I love him, and I want him to be happy, but what he did to you…," Lindsay trailed off seeming to sense his uncertainty and Justin nodded once in understanding.

"I know it's not my business, but the two of you…I just worry," Lindsay added, "I love you, too, Justin, and I want you to be happy and I want that happiness to come from someone who will treat you right. And, well, Brian doesn't have the best track record when it comes to treating you right."

Justin smiled.

"I know. Trust me," he replied. He appreciated Lindsay's concern, and he completely understood where her worry came from. She'd seen it all with him and Brian – the blissful contentedness, and the dark underbelly. She knew firsthand what kind of cruelty Brian was capable of, but she also knew firsthand the kind of compassionate love and tenderness he was capable of.

"He called me in July, you know," Lindsay said.

Justin looked at her curiously. "No, I didn't know."

"Yeah. Out of the blue he calls and he asks me about those years right after Rage and how you were. How you really were. I didn't even know you guys had reconnected. I mean, I knew you'd seen each other a few times but when he told me he was in LA just to see you I was surprised."

"So what did you tell him?" Justin asked softly. Lindsay had seen and heard a lot of the bad – but not nearly all of it...

"I told him what I knew about that time, which wasn't very much it turns out," Lindsay gazed at Justin with a soft smile. "He told me what you had told him."

Justin nodded.

"Don't be angry with him for it," Lindsay pleaded, "when he called he was so upset and so angry with himself, I'd never heard him so worked up before...I think he might have even cried a little bit."

"I'm not upset," Justin offered a small smile, having a hard time imagining Brian crying. Maybe tearing up and letting one or two slip…but crying?

"I didn't know it was as bad as all that," Lindsay continued, "and I'm so sorry I wasn't a better friend to you during that time."

"Don't be sorry," Justin shrugged, "it's over with, and you had Gus to deal with, and you're own stuff going on. And I probably wouldn't have let you help me anyway. I was a mess and unwilling, or unable, to let go of things, or the pain. I seemed to thrive on it; I lived in it and wouldn't let myself get out. I can't say I'm very proud of my behavior in those years. I was pretty damn reckless and immature."

"Still. I'm sorry," Lindsay pressed.

"It's okay. Thank you," Justin responded, not realizing how much it meant to hear those words. He'd never doubted Lindsay cared for him and considered him a close friend, but he also never doubted she would chose Brian over him every time – but now he wasn't so sure. Might Lindsay have used her clout, her position as Gus's mother, to help try and bring Brian and Justin back together?

"So do I have you to thank for Brian's apology in July?" Justin asked.

"No. Well, maybe. Partly," Lindsay grinned and Justin gave a soft laugh.

"I told him he needed to tell you all the things he was telling me. And I guess he did. Because here we all are," she added.

They were quiet for a little while, the low din of the conversations happening around them somewhat soothing and hypnotic, the warmth from the giant fireplace they were sitting in front of, relaxing. Still, there was one thing Justin was curious about.

"Can I ask you something now?" he said and Lindsay smiled and nodded.

"Brian won't really talk to me about the last few months; do you know how he was, or what he did?" Justin asked, hopefully.

"I'm not sure," Lindsay's expression was earnest and she shrugged, "he didn't talk much about you to me but I think he was lonely because he came to Vermont a lot, almost every other weekend. And I think he worked a lot too. So…," Lindsay trailed off and Justin groaned inwardly. She knew what he was really asking – what did Brian do at night, on the weekends, in his free time – and she didn't know of course.

"It doesn't really matter now, I guess," Justin sighed, resigning himself to likely never knowing what had occupied Brian's free time in the months since his visit to California.

"Is everything okay?" Lindsay asked, her brow furrowing with obvious concern.

"Yes," Justin grinned, "for the first time in a long time, everything is okay – great, really. I'm just scared for when it's suddenly not okay anymore because when it comes to Brian and me that seems to be the pattern. This just feels like the calm before the inevitable storm, and I hate that feeling. I want to hope we're past all that by now."

"You are. So don't go looking for trouble," Lindsay replied and Justin nodded.

She was, of course, right. They were both much older, and far more mature – Justin could see how much Brian had grown up in the almost nine years they were apart. It was shocking, and arousing, to see the change and yet to know it was the same man because even with his newfound maturity, Brian would still say or do things that would throw Justin back in time and he had to assume it was the same with Brian. They were the same men, but different men too, and it was fucking exciting to think about what all they had to learn and figure out with each other, and they had all the time in the world to do it – Justin was more determined than ever not to let anything or anyone come between them again.

Just then Justin felt cold fingers pressing gently on his neck and he turned quickly, ignoring the dull painful throb the quick movement elicited in his injured arm, to see Brian and Gus, their hats and coats covered in a thick layer of fast melting snow. They were standing behind him wearing matching grins and dripping small puddles of water onto the floor.

"You two ready for some lunch?" Brian smirked.

The remainder of the week at Vail passed without incident. The weather cleared after another day of heavy snowfall and the skies were the bluest blue Justin ever recalled seeing – it was inspiring, really. Though Justin lamented not being able to go out and experience the fresh 15 inches of powder on the mountain, he wasn't sad at having to avoid the crowds. As the week ended and Christmas loomed, the resort town grew more crowded with incoming visitors. So much so that the last two days at the resort Justin stayed back at the condo, alternating sketching with doing some preliminary research for his new job.

Justin could sense Brian's reluctance to leave him alone each morning, but Justin didn't mind. If Brian were going to ditch him for someone else, it could only be for Gus, and Justin had to remind him several times that the only person he expected Brian to love more than him was his son.

Justin earned a quickie in the shower for voicing that sentiment.

They flew back to New York on December 24th, and celebrated Christmas in Brian's apartment the following day while a snowstorm blanketed the city. Justin missed LA's temperate and warm (relative to New York anyway!) weather as he faced what felt like never-ending winter in the city, but getting to spend his nights wrapped up in Brian's arms more than made up for the cold, dark, and dreary winter days.

Christmas itself – the gift giving – was more for Gus and Lindsay than for Brian and Justin, and though the latter hadn't talked about exchanging gifts with each other, they each did each get the other a little something. Justin had drawn a picture of Brian and Gus in their snowy ski clothes, wearing matching grins. He'd added just a tiny bits of accent color to the mainly black and white sketch, and had had it framed in Vail before they'd flown back. Brian had been struck speechless when presented with it, and Justin thought he saw a tiny glint of wetness in his eyes before he was tackled to the floor and Brian was kissing him, oblivious to Lindsay and Gus's presence.

Brian's gift to Justin was just as special – a set of three keys, one to the apartment, one for Kinnetik, and one for a brand new Audi. Justin smiled when presented with the small box and though he appreciated the sentiment of the car, his favorite of the three keys was the one to the apartment. It made it officially feel like his home; his home with Brian. After realizing what the keys were for Justin took his turn tackling Brian to the ground and peppering him with kisses before an incessantly teasing Lindsay drove him to the kitchen to prepare them all mugs of hot chocolate.

The remainder of Christmas Day was spent alternating between all of them playing various board games, and Brian and Gus having a rousing few hours yelling and laughing as they played some sort of shoot 'em up video game. Justin found his creative juices flowing wild and free as he watched father and son together and he couldn't make his hand move fast enough to capture all the joy and happiness he saw in Brian and Gus's faces.

The following day Justin had his arm checked out and was given the all clear to stop wearing the sling, given that he was extra careful not to fall or put too much weight or pressure on it. His wrist would be in the cast for another few weeks, and while it was an annoyance and a hindrance (particularly in the bedroom), Justin was simply glad that it hadn't been his right wrist that he'd broken. It wouldn't do to show up to his new job with an injury that would have effectively prevented him from doing any work. His bosses likely would have understood – accidents happen after all – but still Justin was glad not to have to have that conversation.

Lindsay took Gus back to Vermont several days later – leaving Brian and Justin alone to celebrate New Year's Eve together. Brian tried to convince her to stay, but she had made up her mind and was insistent they go back to Vermont. A part of Justin was glad; after all he'd barely just arrived in New York himself and so far had only had a couple days alone with Brian since he'd moved in. He was looking forward to having the apartment back again.

When the door had closed behind Gus and Lindsay, and Brian and Justin were finally alone, the silence was oppressing. Justin had to admit, he already missed Gus's loud and easy laugh, and he missed the proud look on Brian's face and the way he carried himself around Gus – as if he needed to do anything more to be that kid's hero. It was obvious Gus thought the world of Brian, and vice versa as well.

"I miss Gus already," Justin said, giving voice to sentiments he knew Brian felt, but wasn't sure he'd ever allow himself to say out loud. It was interesting, figuring out this new Brian while trying not to assign old behaviors back onto him.

"Me too," Brian said softly and Justin wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his face to Brian's chest, hearing his heart beating steady and strong, "I always do when he leaves."

Justin felt an incredible wave of sadness wash over him and he wanted nothing more than to give Brian the gift of constant happiness he'd finally found in being a father. But he couldn't, so he simply squeezed him tighter and made a silent promise to always encourage Brian's relationship with Gus, no matter what.

They stood like that for awhile, Justin's cheek pressed to Brian's chest, his hands splayed across his lower back as he stroked small circles. Brian's hands in return were on Justin, one in his hair, twirling a strand while the other massaged gently at the nape of his neck.

Finally, Brian started to pull away and Justin reluctantly let him go.

"So, New Year's," Brian smirked and Justin knew the moment had passed; whether he was still hurting or not, Brian wasn't going to admit to feeling any more pain or sadness than he already had.

"What do you want to do?" Brian asked moving towards the kitchen as Justin followed behind.

"We can go to Times Square. Cynthia has tickets to some private party and we wouldn't have to be in the teeming hordes in the street. Or," Brian pulled two bottles of water from the fridge, passing one to Justin, "we could go to Royals. They're having some sort of drag contest I think. That could be fun."

Justin grinned, feeling an overpowering surge of love course through him. He wasn't sure it was entirely on purpose, but since his arrival Justin had seen Brian drink alcohol only once – and even then it was one beer at dinner. He couldn't be sure, but he thought maybe Brian was trying to quit drinking; or at least quit drinking at home and when Justin was around. Sipping his water, Justin made a mental note to tell Brian he didn't have to do that.

"I kind of just want to stay in," Justin shrugged apologetically. "I'd rather just have you all to myself."

Brian's eyes twinkled as he narrowed them slightly and rolled in his lips, "I've got the perfect idea."

The following day was New Year's Eve, and after a leisurely morning fuck, Brian pulled Justin reluctantly from bed and they spent the day walking through Central Park in the fresh snow, then warming up in the Met, wandering without a care and having easy conversation about the art and the people around them. It was one of the most perfect days Justin could remember ever having with Brian and he was bummed when the museum closed and they were forced to head back home.

They arrived back to the apartment just after sundown. As Brian opened the door and they went in, Justin dropped his bag with the art books he'd bought to the floor and was about to take off his boots when Brian began pulling him back out of the apartment and back into the cold night.

"Where're we going?" Justin puffed, his breath created a cloud in the dense, wet, cold air. They were back out on the busy street, Brian tugging him down the sidewalk with a knowing smirk on his face.

"Just for a walk," Brian replied surreptitiously and Justin stuffed his hands into his coat pockets with a sideway's glance at the taller man.

"Mmmmhmmmm," he hummed, immediately suspicious.

Not even half a block later they were climbing a set of metal stairs, up to the raised path of the High Line Park. Justin had heard about the park, and had wanted to see it – but in the summer when it was warm, and full of green and flowering plants, not when it was frozen under a thick blanket of white snow – even if the snow sparkled and glittered under the soft lights that lit the snowy path for them.

The park was quiet, Justin couldn't see another person in either direction, and he followed Brian silently, growing more curious as they traveled further along the path. A few minutes into their walk Justin turned around to look behind him only to see Brian's building lit up looking warm and welcoming and behind it, in the near distance, the Empire State Building, also lit bright and colorfully for the New Year. It was a magical sight and Justin was caught breathless for a moment.

"Hey," Brian's voice pulled Justin back to the moment and when he turned he saw Brian a ways ahead of him, standing under a lamp that gave him a warm, yellow glow, "you coming?"

Justin smiled and hurried forward to catch up to him.

"How much further?" Justin asked as they walked, and walked, and walked. He could hear the traffic on the streets below them as they crossed over each one, following the path of the park – which was seemingly never-ending.

"Not much further," Brian replied, tugging at Justin's collar with an impish grin.

They kept on walking, and Justin took in the contemporary architecture of the surrounding buildings, immediately thinking about how interesting they might be for Molly, as well as the art sculptures that rose up on either side of the park – lit by exterior lights and looking absolutely gorgeous under the freshly fallen, untouched snow. He could see why Brian chose to live in Chelsea. It was really beautiful.

Justin was making a mental note to make sure to come back with his sketchpad in the Spring and again in Summer – and to drag Molly along one of those times – when they rounded a gentle curve in the path and Justin's breath escaped him at the sight laid out before him.

Just up ahead of them was the outline of what looked to be an old warehouse, gently lit up with more of the soft, yellow lights that had been along the entire path. The path itself continued on towards the building, but just before it disappeared under the skeletal looking structure Justin saw a small round table set up, softly lit with candles both on the table and on tall pedestals all around. Next to the table was an ice bucket with what looked like a champagne bottle inside.

"Brian-," Justin started, as Brian kissed his cheek and pulled him towards the table.

"Don't worry, it's sparkling white grape juice," he guided Justin to one of the padded chairs and as Justin sat down he actually sighed out loud as the unexpected warmth of the seat surprised him.

"The cushions are heated," Brian grinned, pulling the bottle from the ice bucket and filling the champagne flutes that were on the table.

"Here," he handed Justin a glass before sitting down in the opposite chair.

"What is all this," Justin smiled, absolutely shocked at the level of planning and obvious and evident romanticism in the gesture. "Did you plan all this in a day?"

Brian shrugged, before leaning forward with his glass held out.

"To new beginnings," he said, suddenly much more solemn.

"To new beginnings," Justin repeated, "and to breaking old habits and patterns."

Brian's mouth quirked slightly in a small smile as he clinked his glass with Justin's.

~The Beginning~

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this final chapter, and I appreciate all your lovely comments through this journey. Cheers!