I didn't hear you leave I wonder how am I still here And I don't want to move a thing It might change my memory Oh I am what I am I do what I want But I can't hide And I won't go I won't sleep I can't breathe Until you're resting here with me And I won't leave I can't hide I cannot be Until you're resting here with me -Here With Me by Dido Brian's POV I walked out of Babylon feeling as though a chapter in my life had come to an end. Mikey had come to me, dragged me from my self imposed exile with a pretty speech and demanded I reopen the club. "You'll always be young and you'll always be beautiful." he'd said. Fucking shit. Even after all he'd witnessed Mikey still didn't get it. I had changed. I'd moved on. But I opened the club. Not for me, but for the Brian Kinney that had once been, for everyone else who thought that's what I needed to do. But only I knew the real reason Babylon had been reopened. I was biding my time. I was waiting. I'd known it would hurt. But despite what everyone thinks, it's not always about me. I ripped my fucking heart from my chest and sent it to New York knowing full well what it meant. I might never see him again. But, I was taking a chance. Justin needed this, at least that what I kept telling myself. The morning he left I woke up alone with a chill at my back that went deeper than skin. My first conscious thought was "Call Justin." But we had decided not to part like two weepy lesbians. I didn't go to the airport with him and we weren't going to talk until his plane touched down at La Guardia. I checked the clock, a half hour. "Fuck!" I refused to watch the clock. With a sigh I stood up to go take a shower. The loft was cold and the hot steamy water was comforting but did nothing to melt the ice in my spine. I showered in a haze and only turned off the water when I caught myself sighing with regret that I was washing the last bit of Justin from my body. "Jesus Christ Justin! What did you do to me?" I scowled. "Little twat." But then I couldn't help but smile when I imagined the sunshine he would have flashed had he heard me talking to him while he wasn't here. Frustrated my eyes moved involuntarily to the clock. "Fuck!" Fifteen minutes. I ran my hands through my wet hair, unable to keep still. I decided to check my email, but he was there too. I scrolled through the mounting list of unanswered emails, looking for anything remotely interesting. Two from Mikey, no doubt wanting to go out and wondering why I hadn't answered his thirteen voicemails; a handful from Lindsay, no doubt preaching about how proud she was of me and what a great opportunity this will be for Justin. Fucking Lindsay. There were a few from clients and an ass load of spam. I was about to log off when I spotted the one name that glowed brighter than all the others. "Justin." I whispered, unable to breath. The email was from that morning, time stamped 6:32 A.M. I tried to avoid it, busied myself reading other things that had, moments prior, bored me to tears. But, as I've learned over the past five years, when it comes to Justin, I can't avoid it. I clicked his name with trepidation, holding my breath and afraid at what I may read. I released my breath in a huffed laugh when I saw what was on the screen. It was a picture of the inside of our refrigerator. In the center of a shelf was a fruit platter with what appeared to be a yogurt dip. Beneath the picture Justin had typed: You are not a lesbian. I am not a twat. Go eat something. I will be fine. Love You-J He always did know me better than I knew myself. As I picked at the food he had prepared and drank copious amounts of coffee I decided to give in to a small amount of my temptation and check the airport's website to see if his flight would be on time. "Fuck!" I was really beginning to like that word. Of course his flight was delayed. Granted, it was only delayed by twenty minutes; but that particular morning twenty minutes felt like an eternity. I had never been one to just sit and watch a lot of television, but I turned it on to distract myself from the blond that wasn't there. Flipping through the channels proved to be an exercise in futility and I grew more impatient by the minute. I finally settled on the travel channel. "Great! Travel! I like to travel…let's watch a program about traveling!" I said to no one in particular. I watched the end of a program about castles in Ireland and was beginning to relax when an announcement for the next program came on. "Next! On the Travel Channel. The Big Apple on a Budget!" "Fuck!" I unceremoniously flung the remote across the room barely missing the ridiculously expensive plasma screen TV and shattering against the wall. There wasn't a single place to go in the loft that Justin hadn't already been. But I guess the problem was really that he was still there. He was gone, but his ghost, his spirit, his energy, call it whatever the fuck you want; that's still there, inside the hole that had once contained my heart. I sighed and gave in to it. I poured myself a drink and watched the clock for the next fifteen minutes until the phone finally rang. "Fucking Lesbiaonic Twat!" His laughter unraveled the knots in my gut. "I love you too Brian." he whispered and I knew his face was lit up like a Christmas tree. I shook my head and wondered not for the first time at how much I had changed. Why were Justin and I the only people who could see it? I had asked Justin that very question the night before while I was still buried inside him, exhausted physically, emotionally. Through his tears he told me that it didn't matter. "We're the only people who matter Brian. The only ones who need to understand." And I believed him. But that morning I finally understood. I knew in that moment that I couldn't just play Mister Nonchalance stand back and let Justin do what he needed to do, act like it didn't hurt like fuck every time I thought about it. I was being honest when I told him that I would do anything to prove my love to him. If that meant sending him to New York with my heart in a zip lock baggie, then so be it. But I wasn't going to let him slip away. I didn't care what I had to do, say or be. Justin was it for me. Last chance Kinney. Don't fuck it up. "Brian?" he asked after my silence had continued a few beats too long. "I missed you Justin." I whispered. "And I love you too." Justin's POV I believed Brian the day he proposed. I know he loves me; hell I've known for years. But when I slid the loft door closed behind me the morning I left for New York, I was one hundred percent certain that I had heard the sound of Brian Kinney's walls sliding firmly into place. I knew he would hurt, that he would drown his soul in the mouths of other men. I also knew that he would never tell me that sending me to New York to chase my dreams would tear out his heart. He was doing that thing again. It was a classic Brian Kinney maneuver where you're out the door doing what you thought you want to do because Brian just convinced you that you wanted it. Then, you're sitting in an airplane terminal an hour later wondering what the fuck just happened. This is why he's making money hand over fist at Kinnetik. He really is a brilliant Add Man. Everyone thinks Brian is a pompous ego centric asshole who only thinks of himself. And he is… but I have never seen anyone sacrifice themselves they way he does for the ones he loves. I've always admired that about him. I was nervous when I got off the plane. I was so certain I'd get the patented Brian Kinney blow off phone call that I had prepared myself the entire flight. Sure, I'd put on a brave face for him; even sent him an email reminding him to take care of himself, eat something…. I'd be fine. But I was scared to death. I sat down in one of the oh so comfortable chairs, pulled my cell phone from my pocket and stared at it. There was so much riding on this one phone call. Would he be the open loving man I left in bed that morning or Mister "I don't believe in love"? I sighed and pressed his speed dial. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding when I heard him answer. "Fucking Lesbianonic Twat!" My face lit up and I was grinning like a child at Christmas. He'd been going crazy. I could hear the desperation in his voice and knew I'd been wrong. The infamous Brian Kinney vault walls were still down. "I love you too Brian." I barely managed to get out. And then he got silent for a moment and my stomach clenched, fear washed over my body. I shouldn't have said that. "Here we go." I thought. Not knowing if I had the strength for what was coming. "Brian?" I managed; my heart in my throat. "I missed you Justin. And I love you too." he whispered, his voice raw, exposed. My heart broke and soared at the same time. I hated that he was hurting but the fact that he actually allowed me to hear that he was hurt gave me hope. "So, you okay?" he asked quietly. "Yeah, just scared, paranoid, feeling inadequate and just generally feeling like I'm making the biggest mistake of my entire life." I laid all of my cards on the table. "Yeah? Well… me too.." he said softly then sighed. "But Justin, we agreed that you need to do this." I imagined him sitting at the kitchen bar, pinching the bridge of his nose like he does when he's frustrated. "Your work is brilliant." I glowed at his praise. He never ceased to make me giggle like a school girl when he complemented my work. Brian sighed dramatically. "I mean, we do need to allow the rest of the world to catch up to the cultural Mecca that is Pittsburgh. We can't leave your brilliance tied up and hostage forever you know." Then, low, sensual and under his breath, "No matter how much I tried to do just that this past week." Blood rushed to my face. I laughed, and then groaned when I remembered how crazy Brian had been the past week. He'd tied me to the bed, to the chaise, to the dining room table; he'd even tied me to himself. I assumed it was his subconscious reaction to me leaving. He never commented and I certainly didn't mind. So I never brought it up. I love it when he takes control, when he makes me beg. The heat spread from my cheeks through my veins and filled my cock, remembering the night he tied our wrists together, almost as if we were being hand fasted. He took me from behind, our hands bound, his body working mine, making me ask, making me beg. I didn't think he realized what he was doing. But now, hearing his low growl of admittance I realized he had been fully aware of what he was doing and why. Yet another sign that Brian Kinney was evolving; so why the fuck was I in New York?