This was written for lincmikejess at the qafgiftxchange over at LJ. Please go check that out as well :)

Brian was losing him.

He knew it as surely as he knew the sun would rise the next morning.

Brian was losing the only person who had ever touched his heart, and there was nothing he could do about it.

If he had to pinpoint the time he first realized Justin was slipping away from him, it would be when he had returned home from Chicago to find an empty loft waiting for him.

Maybe there wasn't another man – not yet – but Justin didn't like to be alone, so if he went up to Vermont for a week without Brian, then that was just testament to how much he had been hurt.

And, in hindsight, Brian saw that maybe a hustler wasn't the best birthday gift; Justin had been really excited, so maybe he should have gotten him a real present. And maybe he should have picked up those flowers on the way home after all.

But that was all 'maybes' and 'could have beens' – and Brian liked to deal in facts, not suppositions.

So he had screwed up – big time. But that didn't mean Justin was going to leave.

Justin loved him. He wasn't going anywhere.

Then Justin came home from Vermont and the first thing he sees is Brian fucking some guy on their bed.

Looking back, maybe it wasn't the ideal greeting.

But Brian didn't think anything of it.

So Justin seemed a little pissed over what happened. So what?

If they were going to be in this – and God knows he would only ever admit this to himself – relationship, then Justin had to know what he was getting into.

And he did know.

So he could fucking well live with it.

At least, that was his attitude until Justin wanted him to have that picnic on the floor of the loft.

But Brian had had a shit day, and fuck if he wasn't going to go out dancing and get completely hammered.

If it had been any other day but that… Brian probably would have stayed.

Because he knew, perhaps if only subconsciously, that if Brian didn't stay, then Justin would go find someone who would.

And as much as he wished he could deny it, Brian cared for Sunshine. Deeply.

He knew what life was like before he met the annoying little kid who was the only one persistent enough to get in under the wire, and he couldn't go back to that. Not after seeing how things could – and maybe should – be.

He kept his pain to himself, as he had always done.

But then Michael had to make plain what he was trying to ignore – Justin was fucking some other guy.

No, wait, correction: Justin was in a relationship with some other guy.

To placate Mikey's expectations of him, he said some shit about how he did the same thing when he was younger. Feign nonchalance. Pretend he didn't care at all. Show no emotions.

Things are easier when you act like everyone expects you to.

Of course, Brian knew that if he had any brains at all, he would have gone home straight away and made Justin confess everything.

In retrospect, maybe if he had done that, Justin would have stayed.

But, once again, Brian's pride got the best of him.

So he took another bump and drank another shot and let the thumpa-thumpa of Babylon deafen him, even if it was only for one night.

Brian would be lying if he said he wasn't angry.

When Justin came home late – again – he wanted more than anything for Justin to know how he felt. He wanted Justin to feel the pain, the anger and the fear that he would be alone again.

Then again, Brian thought that maybe Justin knew a little something about that; after all, how many times had Brian himself hurt Justin?

But he was still angry, so angry – it was Justin that continually broke the rules after he insisted on them when they got back together. It was Justin that lied about where he was going and what he was doing. And it was Justin that seemingly didn't care enough for Brian to be honest.

So when Justin walked in the door and headed straight for the shower, Brian couldn't help himself from playing with him.

It was childish, sure, to come on to Justin so forcefully and then pull away at the last second – take a shower, you stink – but now Justin must know that Brian knew everything.

Would things change because of that?

Brian hoped so, but in his experience, hopes wouldn't get him far.

Then he met Ethan Gold.

And suddenly Brian knew with a startling clarity that Justin was going to leave him for this kid.

Brian supposed that he really shouldn't be surprised – Justin had obviously yearned for romance ever since his first night with Brian. And who better to find it with than Paganini Junior, who no doubt played disgustingly romantic solos on his violin and brought Justin roses and chocolates in bed?

No, Brian wasn't surprised by that.

What did surprise him was how much it hurt.

He was Brian Kinney, for fuck's sake – he didn't care about anybody but himself.

So why did his heart ache so badly?

Inviting Ethan into the diner when Brian knew Justin was going to be there was another childish act.

Stringing the kid along with promises of commercials and money was rude and vindictive, but it was so worth seeing his face when Brian gave him his card.

The oh-shit-this-is-my-boyfriend's-boyfriend-who-isn't-supposed-to-have-a-clue look was simply priceless, even if it wasn't half as great as the look on Justin's face when he saw both of his lovers sitting together.

Brian would have given anything – even his bed, and he would rather give up a kidney than that bed – to know Justin's thoughts in that moment.

But that didn't matter, because now, finally, Justin had to speak.

Then he's back at the loft, and when Justin says "I'm sorry," Brian wants nothing more than to take him in his arms and just kiss all the hurt away.

But he can't do that, because Brian Kinney Doesn't Do Romance.

He's never felt more constricted and caged in his life, and he only has himself to blame for it.

His anger towards himself funnels out to Justin, and Brian toys with him again.

Stroking Justin's dick while mocking him, then not answering with anything but "It's your choice" when Justin asks if Brian would care if he stayed.

He wishes he could tell Justin everything – every little hope, every silly dream, every emotion he's ever felt.

But pushing people away is easier than breaking down your own barriers.

So he says nothing.

When Justin comes home later and strips in front of the bed, Brian considers turning his back on him.

It would be easy, so easy, to just turn away and not look back.

Justin would get the picture.

He would take his things and leave, maybe going to his little boyfriend, maybe not. It didn't matter.

And Justin deserved better, anyways.

He craved love and attention that Brian just couldn't give him. And Brian wanted Justin to be happy – no matter who he was with.

But Brian simply proved everyone who ever doubted him right by acting selfishly; he didn't want to give up Justin, not just yet.

So he turned back the blankets and invited Justin in.

When Brian put his arm around Justin, he didn't feel any warmth, but that wasn't surprising.

He hadn't felt anything but cold for weeks.

He had decided, even before the party, that he had to do it.

Justin wouldn't leave, wouldn't stop loving him, unless he did something unforgivable.

It was just like inviting what's-her-face to Mikey's birthday.

Michael had been hovering at the precipice – all he needed was a little push.

Brian had done it once, and he could do it again.

It didn't matter what he felt, so long as Justin was happy.

So he took Rage into the back room and fucked him in plain sight.

Justin came in and saw, as Brian knew he would.

And then Ethan turned up, as Brian knew he would.

He came out of the back room just in time to see them kissing.

Justin looked at him once, and then did what Brian couldn't – turned his back and walked away.

He didn't look back.

Brian had lost him.