Shivering, Justin approached the place he once called home. He licked dry lips, glancing at the elevator versus the stairs, and opted for the stairs, more time to think, he reasoned. Inhaling, he knocked on the door. It slid back; revealing a man elegantly decked in sweatpants, sans shirt.

His eyes widen, "Justin?"

"Hey, um, do you think I could crash here tonight?" Without an answer he pushed his way in, just like old times. He seated himself on the couch, "This is fine, I got stranded, this was the nearest place," he answered the unspoken question.

Brian opened his mouth, just as someone walked through the still open door.

"Hey, Bri," called a voice. "I got Chinese, your fav..." he spotted Justin. "Oh hey, who's this?"

"Nobody." Justin refused to allow the hurt to show on his face.

"Nice to meet you," He held out his hand, "Ronny." The man stood an inch below Brian, reddish blonde curls cropped close, bangs accenting his striking green eyes. There was no denying it; he was gorgeous. Justin estimated his age to be mid-to-late twenties.

"Justin." He grazed his hand over the offered one.

"Well, I'm going to get some plates, sorry I only have enough for two."

"Oh, that's ok, I'm not hungry." Justin smiled.

"Justin needs a place to crash tonight, I'm lending him our couch." Our...the word cut into his heart.

"Awa...how sweet, always there to help someone. One of the reasons I love you," Ronny teased, laying a smacking kiss on Brian's cheek.

"Love you too," Brian grinned.

Only Justin's well schooled WASP-y training kept him from showing his alarm. He ordered himself to yawn, then stifled it, " Wow, I'm really tired."

He curled up, surrounded by the musty scent of "Brian," trying, unsuccessfully, to block out the sounds of laughter and...love.

Morning came, Justin woke to a dampen pillow as well as mood.

Tip-toeing up to the bed, he observed Brian...and Ronny. They lay curled together in the center of the bed, legs tangled, heads bent, foreheads barely touching. He turned away from the sight.

"Justin," He stopped at the voice.

He pivoted, smiling as brightly as he could, "You guys look good together, and, uh, thanks for last night, later." Waving slightly, it took all his strength not to break into a run, as he made his way to the door.

Brian's steady gaze followed him out the door.

Justin nibbled on his fingernail, as he studied a book.

"Justin, right?" His head snapped up, and the book fell to the ground.

"Oh, shit, sorry man." Ronny stooped down, plucking the book up. "Mine if I join...ohh shit what happened?" His hand moved up to Justin's right cheek, Justin flinched before contact. A bruise lay under and to the right of his eye.

"Oh, that," Skillful, Justin laughed, good-naturally. "It’s so stupid, I ran into a stop sign." He explained.

Ronny's eyebrows shot up, questioningly.

"I was reading, and I wasn't playing attention to where I was going." He shook his head, smiling.

"Ouch," Ronny winced.

"It doesn't hurt...much," He smiled. Silence surrounded them in the busy coffee shop.

"So," Ronny broke the pause, "how do you know Brian, did you guys date?"

"Don't waste any time do you?" Placing a napkin to keep his place in his book, Justin closed it,

"So, that's a yes." It wasn't a question.

"Actually, we never dated." Emphasis on dated. "We were pretty much friends with benefits."

"So, why did you come over last night."

"I had a fight with my boyfriend. He was driving, I got pissed so I got out." Beat. "Without my wallet or my cell." He gave a soft laugh. "I was down the street from the loft, and I figured what the hell."

"I see,"

"So, how long have you guys been living together?" Justin raised a hand to run it through his hair. His sleeve fell down, revealing a bruise. Ronny's eyes zeroed in on it. Justin followed his eyes.

"I know, I know, pretty isn't it?" Chuckling, he pulled it up further. "Fell in the fucking shower. I bruise like a bitch." Multi-colored, about the size of a fist, it was a sight indeed.

"Anyways," He changed the topic, "how long?"

Ronny smiled coyly, "About 6 months,"

Justin nodded, lips upturned, "That's awesome."

"Yep, Brian’s pretty amazing."

Justin bit his lip, nodding. Swearing he would not let go of his emotions.

Justin endured the talk for half an hour, before he broke away.

Glancing at his watch, Justin leaped up, "Oh shit, I'm late, I'm really sorry." Swinging his bag up and over his head, his shirt rode up a tat, Ronny's gaze fell on a hand shaped bruise on the blonde's hip. Jingling of a bell indicated Justin’s departure. He bent his head, absently stirring his coffee.

"You know that kid who was here yesterday?"

"Yeah?"

"I think his boyfriend is abusing him."

Brian's head jerked up, eyes flashing, "What?"

"Hey, don't kill the messenger."

"Explain."

"I ran into him at Starbucks, he had a black eye, a bruised arm, and there were hand prints on his hip."

The next day, Brian called, "Hey, Justin, my art department screwed up an ad. I was thinking you could pay me back for letting you sleep on the couch. Come to the loft."

"Yeah, sure, be there in a few." Justin clicked his phone shut, groaning. Well, you owe him one.

The loft door opened, as Justin raised his hand to knock.

"Get in," Brain barked.

Justin sighed, then kicked himself, he should've figured this was a trick.

"What's going on Justin?" Brian demanded. "Ronny told me about the bruises." Brian wasted no time.

"It's nothing Brian, Christ," he rolled his eyes. "I had a spaztastic week, ok?" He flung himself on the couch.

"He said that they were finger shaped." Their eyes raged war. "Lift up your shirt."

Silently, Justin raised the hem of his shirt. Purple finger bruises lined his hips.

He released the shirt, letting it flutter down.

"Justin..."

"Don't, Brian, ok? I left him." A pause as Justin stood up. "Ya'know Ronny seems like a real nice guy."

"He is."

"Obviously you know we met at Starbucks."

Brian nodded.

"He told me all about his amazing boyfriend." The last word came out tingled with sarcasm. "Snowboarding in Vermont, a fabulous new suit for his birthday…" He trailed off, then bobbed his head, "yeah, the perfect boyfriend." Justin inspected the floor.

"What was so wrong with me?" The whispered words resonated through out the loft.

"I mean, God, something must have been. Was it my age? Or was it just guilt because of what happened?"

Brian sucked in his lower lip, not looking at Justin.

"I did everything you asked of me, I let go of all my morals…I fucked around, did you know I dreaded our 'date night'? I would get physical ill, so I would starve myself." His voice rose.

"I destroyed my body with drugs, my immune system, which was never very high in the first place, is now for shit." He gave a harsh laugh, "I caught the flu in December, I nearly died. And it still was never enough." Silence

Baby steps for the taller man as he made his way towards the shaking man.

"I think I figured it out though, there's something about me that just screams, 'convenient fuck', am I right? That's why you kept me around, because you could call on me and I'd be right there taking it like a man."

Hesitating Brian glanced at the floor, a hand reaching out to Justin.

"Ethan thought that too. Caught him leaving with some guy one night after a concert. He swore that it was just a fellow music student. Made me feel like shit about doubting him. That night his 'fellow music student' showed up with roses, and a promise of sex for his idol." He pursed his lips, eyes glaring in disgust at the pitiful gesture.

Dropping the offering, Brian averted his head.

"Then came Steve, round your age, little older." Full rant, everything screamed complete mental breakdown, arms flying, eyes narrowed, shaking. "He said he didn't want to live together just yet, he was against ‘rushing’ things. I saw him, though, when I started a new job, with his wife and two kids," He spat the last clause. "I was their fucking waiter. He wouldn't even look at me, except when he kissed his wife.

All blood had found its way to his face and ears, the usual pale, near florescent skin, now flushed.

"Now, Mikhail the Russian. God, he seemed just s-- he…" Justin’s voice broke, as he caught a sob from escaping.

"The first time he hit me was during sex. Afterwards, he was all I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I swear it will never again. He lied. That night I came here, I-I," He faulted, "wanted, for just one night, to be back in the only place that ever made sense, where I knew I was safe. A place that held my favorite memories. And maybe ask you to chase away the past year, the way you used to, by just holding me." He rubbed his nose, and brushed red eyes.

"I know I had no right to think that. And when Ronny walked in, and kissed you saying 'I love you', I was like really happy for you even though, I admit, a bit jealous," He shook his head, voice dropping in magnitude. "God, I’m so fucked up. But Ronny’s made you into honest man, congratulations. I wish you the best, you deserve it." Justin step forward, fingertips hovering above Brian’s cheek, "I do wish it could’ve been me." He turned away, looking down, water splattering the floor. He paused at the open door,

"I saw my dad last year. Steve was with me, and he told me all I'd ever be was a whore, and no one can love a whore. I guess he was right."

Brian's mask fell and his emotions lay bared. He lounged forward, catching Justin's hand. He raised a hand and trailed thumbs over his face, catching the tears, and stroking the colored flesh. Justin shuddered, closing his eyes. Tears fell harder, and he looked away. "Don't please."

"You're not a whore," He touched their foreheads together.

Justin broke away. "Don't pull this shit on me. It's what you always do, give me some inkling of emotion, and then..."

Brian cut him off, sealing their lips together.

Justin indulged himself, putting every essence of emotion he had left into it. Breathing sharply, he cut off Brian, stumbling backwards.

"No, I'm not going to be what ruins you and Ronny," he declared. "Don't throw what you have with him away."

"I doubt that's going to happen," informed Ronny, smirking against the door. "No, offense, Coz, I'm not really into the whole incest thing."

Justin's eyes widened. "Sunshine," Brian easily slid back into the nickname, "despite whatever Ronny might have implied," He shot Ronny a sharp look, "we're not together, so you can stop queening out."

"He moved to Pitts a couple months ago, and won't get off his lazy ass and find his-own apartment."

"I'm entirely too cheap," Ronny sighed dramatically, flopping down on the couch.

"You fucking asshole," Justin growled grabbing his ex-lover by the collar, yanking him down to met his eyes. "Why the hell didn’t you say anything!"

"Jus..." Brian began.

This time, Justin cut him off, slipping his tongue home. Brian straightened himself, lifting Justin off the floor. Mouths fused together, hands tangled in clothing and hair. Justin wound his legs about the older man's waist. It had been entirely to long. Justin pulled back, weaving his hands through Brian’s soft hair.

"I’m sorry I fucked up."

Brian brushed his lips over Justin’s, then trailed soft kisses over his cheek. Using his tongue, he traced the marked flesh.

"I’ll kill that fucking bastard," he muttered against the warm flesh of a pale throat.

Justin buried his face in Brian’s shoulder, inhaling the essence of Brian.

And a little Gus action!

Gus peaked over the arm of the couch. Daddy and Jussy were kissing again! He looked at Uncle Ronny. They grinned.

"Daddy and Jussy sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g..." they shrieked.

A shoe sailed in their direction.

"Hey, you could've..." Ronnie picked up the shoe, intending to throw it back, but a glimmer of green caught his eye. Score twenty bucks.

"Come on, Gussy ol’ pal, let’s get some Mickey D's."

Gus's mouth opened gleefully as he sprang from his perch and going at the door in a dead run.