"What do you want me to say Justin?"

"What you feel."

"What you just said about sums it up, don't you think? You shouldn't feel like you do." The man looked down at the table before continuing. "You shouldn't let anyone make you feel that way." Glancing to his left, Brian caught sight of a group of women still looking at them. It seemed that two men sitting across from each other in a restaurant was more entertaining than whatever it was that this group could make in the way of conversation.

"It's not always like that." Justin kept his eyes on Brian's face as the man smiled but still made no effort to look at him again.

"Tell me something." Brian continued with his train of thought when no sound of objection came from the other side of the table. "You were with the music man for a month…how much of that time did he make you feel like you just said?"

"Never. Not directly."

"There." Brian smiled again. "Like I said, you shouldn't have to feel like that with me." Still not looking at Justin, Brian kept his attention on the little group of women who seemed to be straining to hear what they were saying. He'd been running the tip of his finger around the lip of his coffee cup and he made a conscious effort not to ask the group what the fuck they were looking at.

"Aren't you listening to me?" Justin leaned forward a little. "I didn't feel like that because I don't feel…that same…I dunno know …intensity when I'm with anyone else…I just didn't feel that way with Ethan…I liked him…a lot and I liked the things we did together… but it wasn't ever the same."

Turning his attention back to Justin, Brian bit at his bottom lip and kept his eyes set on the pair across from him. Hundreds of miles away from the happenings that they were here to talk about…in broad daylight and with tourists…probably from Tampa…staring at them from the other side of a bank of ferns, Brian held his breath. "I wouldn't bring you roses and I won't. You left over fucking roses and picnics. Bullshit that means nothing."

"It means something to me." Justin kept his eyes on Brian's.

Not blinking, the man continued his thought. "Words. You left over words." Brian pushed his coffee cup away roughly spilling some of the contents to create a stain on the linen tablecloth. "Well let me contribute to some more of your education Justin. Words lie. Promises are what end up hurting the most."

"Maybe you're right…maybe that's part of what I feel right now." Justin shook his head at Brian's words of wisdom. "But for me, what hurt the most is looking back and thinking that I must have imagined all the things that I thought were there." Justin furrowed his brows a little as if honestly replaying some of those mixed messages for the first time. Little did he know that Brian would most identify with this sentiment about being half sure that you imagined all the things that once made you sleep easier at night. "But, I guess I can understand if you see it differently. If you expect nothing then people can't really disappoint you when they fuck up." Blue eyes fixed on Brian's again, the older man took refuge in his dislike of the eavesdroppers sitting a few feet away.

"You think I don't expect anything?" Brian looked down at his napkin again.

"You never made any outright demands. I asked for stuff going into this, you didn't." Justin sat back in his chair again and reached down between his legs to grip the edge of his chair with both hands. He'd made a mistake in broaching this area of discussion now and he knew it when Brian closed his eyes slowly and sat back from the table as well. After all, the events that followed Justin's own demands were proof enough that asking for something and expecting something, didn't mean it would happen that way. In this case, the man making all the demands had broken all the rules.

"I expected the fuck ups. I even expected them from me." Brian whispered his words. He was looking at Justin again and Justin tried to force the tears that he suddenly felt welling up to go away. "Like I said. Words lie, Justin."

"I didn't mean to." Justin's voice cracked at the end of his statement and he looked down again. Something…he was hoping for something to focus on…something to help him get his emotions back under control. Leaning back and looking away from the rest of the tables in the restaurant, Justin focused his attention on the windows a few feet away and on the other side of where they were sitting. Outside it was sunny and the sky was clear and Justin conjured up the image of the city that the stewardess had warned him about. This might be a place for regrouping and forgetting, but he wouldn't get to that part any time soon. "Most of the time you didn't give me anything…and when you did, I think now that you're the one who lied." To describe Justin's last few words as hushed and whispered, would be an understatement and Brian ended up offering the best description of all.

"I remember asking you what the fuck was with the little voice."

"And I remember telling you that it was one way to hear what you wanted. This time, it's to say what I think." His accusing blue eyes on Brian's again, a re-strengthened Justin continued. "You lied Brian. One minute you didn't tell me anything of how you felt about anything, and then the next…and I swear to God that I'm not imagining this stuff, the next minute you would touch me and hold me and there were times that I heard you say it when you thought I was asleep…I'm not imagining that stuff. It was like fucking pulling teeth for you to tell me what your favorite food was when you were growing up, or whether you had a bike or sometimes whether you'd had a good day at work…and then other times, other times were different…and after everything that's happened, I'm sure that I wasn't imagining it. And if that's true, you must have lied."

A few feet away their waiter, noticing the intensity of the discussion, carefully weighed whether or not he should go over to take orders at this point. He'd had the good sense enough to notice that in the time since he'd left, neither man had even considered the menus. Deciding instead to check on his charges at another table, the man walked toward a group of women seated some feet away. These ladies weren't talking as much, but they seemed to share his interest in reading what was happening at the table for two on the far side of the greenery.

"Ladies, can I get anyone a refill for their coffee?" The young man smiled and the group turned politely to look at him. Two silver-haired women on his right tapped their cups and smiled back and he moved around to stand next to them. Refilling one cup slowly and carefully and then the next, the light conversation at the table continued.

"Joanie, just look over there. I'm sure that's your son." A woman in a yellow sun-visor reached across the table to tap her friend's hand and the hand recoiled and folded itself quietly in Joan Kinney's lap.

She'd seen Brian come in and had managed to keep herself hidden from his sweeping take of the place and then his annoyed attention on the rest of her group apparently since he sat down. Hidden behind the greenery, she'd already told these women that the man looked like Brian but she couldn't be sure without her glasses. Furthermore, she'd had to physically restrain one woman who wanted to call to him to make sure. It seemed the days of bragging about her rich, successful son had finally caught up with her. They had all seen pictures but most hadn't laid eyes on Brian since he went away for college, despite the fact that he and his mother still lived in the same city. After all the exaggerations the woman had made in the past, this group wanted to see the wonder son for themselves. It hadn't been lost on any of the group that Joan was acting strangely, and the malicious few in the fivesome even hoped to catch her in a lie.

"I'm not sure and I already told you I don't have my glasses. Besides there's no reason for Brian to be in San Francisco." The woman replied curtly before asking the waiter for their bill.

"I'm still working on my toast." A dentured woman with too bright lipstick spoke up and Joan sat back in her chair again.

"I wonder who the young man is. Do you know him Joan? Brian is sitting right behind the greenery so you'd have to stand up to see if that was him, but the other man, you can see him if you just turn a little." The yellow sun-visor offered again.

"I don't have my glasses Ruth and plus I saw a bit of them as they came in, that man didn't look at all familiar. Now we're not going to catch up with the rest of the tour group if we spend the entire day holed up in this restaurant." His mother still trying to chase the group out of the place, Brian continued to steal glances at the many sets of eyes looking at him from across the restaurant. One woman in a yellow-visor had to have shifted in her seat ten times already trying to get a better look at him. The bank of ferns midway between the two tables obscured her view and the distance apparently made it difficult for the number of them to make out what was being said.

"I didn't lie." The man had returned his attention to Justin's last comment.

"You just tried to make sure that you didn't say anything, but I'm saying that some of the things you said and did…you must have lied because those things couldn't be true."

"How did we get here? Because of things you think I said, or was it because of things that we're both sure that you did?" Point one for Brian, at least that was Justin's scoring of that statement.

"I fucked around on you with one guy. You fucked around on me with an entire city."

"Your rules Justin…and then you started expecting things that you didn't ask for." Point two for Brian.

"But things changed Brian. I know they did. We started tricking together…doing that stuff together…you would tell me about them…I would know what was happening and I would know when it wasn't happening…and it wasn't happening by yourself for awhile…I know that I didn't imagine that. And then you started up again and it was…things changed from the way they were when I asked for those rules and then they changed right back." Justin looked away and out of the window again.

"Nothing changed. Your rules. I lived by them."

"I shouldn't have asked for rules." Justin spoke quietly.

"My point exactly, no point in making rules. Promises are made to be broken." Bringing both elbows to the table, Brian looked across at Justin's profile as the younger man continued to look out of the window.

"That's not what I meant. I meant I didn't want to have rules. I wanted a relationship with you and only you. I thought that if I put you in my place, me having tricks and making you see that, then you would get tired of it and maybe see things from my perspective. I thought it was working when we'd only ever get guys together. I thought that was your way of keeping tabs on me…keeping me for yourself. You wouldn't let anyone else fuck me. You wouldn't let anyone else kiss me, even touch me too much. I thought…" Justin brought both hands to his face and covered it from Brian's attention and then stopped talking.

Silence between them for some minutes and then Justin moved his hands away. The red eyes told anyone else that he'd been crying, but Brian had known that would happen long before the younger man's words ended abruptly. He watched as Justin unfolded his napkin and wiped his face. Brian watched the red welts from the rough seams of the fabric spring out on Justin's cheeks and then quickly fade away. It hurt him to see this and it hurt him to be able to so perfectly and crisply nail Justin for every point he'd raised in the last few minutes. This was not a conversation that Justin could win because frankly, many of the events were his wrongs and because Brian was already too well versed at winning any form of warfare.

Out come the big guns.' Brian thought as he considered Justin's tears.

"How pussy am I for sitting in a restaurant and bawling my eyes out over this?" Justin tossed the napkin on the table angrily and pushed his chair away. He stood up quickly and didn't bother to look at Brian as he spoke. "I guess you were right and even if you weren't, you're too good at this. You want me, but you're always gonna punish me and none of this is ever gonna be your fault."

"Justin." Brian pulled his elbows of the table and stood up too. "Sit down. Please."

"No. I don't want to finish this here." He'd made a sidelong glance at the attention they were already receiving again. He hadn't been as attentive as Brian in observing the nosy group of women but he had noticed them.

Brian nodded a little and Justin moved off towards the door. Pulling a twenty from his wallet, Brian dropped the bill on the table and glanced around looking for his waiter. Finding the man on the other side of the room, he pointed to the money on the table and followed Justin out of the restaurant.

Joan Kinney hadn't been in touch with Brian in the last month, but she still knew enough about the shape of his body, the gait of his walk and the look of his profile to have accurately identified him from across a restaurant and without her glasses. His companion had also left an indelible impression on her as well and she recognized him when she saw him come into the restaurant and when she saw them both leave.

Brian was in San Francisco and his…lover…his boy was there with him…in the same hotel…in the same hotel as the Catholic Women's Auxiliary, Pittsburgh Chapter on their bi-annual retreat.

The walk across the lobby was made in silence with Brian trailing several feet behind. What could he say now that things had played out exactly as the "blameless" part of him had wanted? This was Justin's fault. Justin couldn't follow his own rules and so fuck him, Brian gave him what he wanted. He'd given him someone that he thought he wanted. Brian reached up to run a hand through his hair as he watched Justin, hands in his pocket, walking ahead of him. Justin was right that he'd wanted to punish him, that he'd always want to punish him…but…

The elevator banks were to the left of them now but Justin kept walking straight ahead. Oblivious to the world, the younger man continued an extra two feet or so before hearing and heeding Brian's call that he'd passed the elevators.

Stopping to let Justin catch up to him and wanting to let the other man get in front of him again, Brian tried his best to ignore the palpable unhappiness radiating from Justin's every pore. Justin had unwittingly brought out the big guns indeed because it was this emotion…this raw prideless emotion that Brian most hated seeing and being the cause of.

Mirrored doors opening and a small crowd spilling out into the lobby, the two men stood aside and waited their cue to board their ride back to the thirty-seventh floor. Justin getting on first, Brian stood next to him and the rest of the new crowd followed quietly. Somewhere between the tenth and twentieth floors they'd lost their company but each man, too deep in his own thought, failed to notice. The mechanisms on the car hummed their assent and each kept silent. It was Justin that Brian thought of and it was Brian that Justin thought of. Each trying to come up with something that they could say to pull this flight out of the nosedive that it had entered; something that would convey the fact that this was not where either of them wanted to be…

Looking over at Justin, Brian watched him close his eyes as if physically affected by the fact that Brian's gaze had fallen across his face. Not waiting for the words to come, Brian reached up and set his palm against the back of Justin's neck. He set it there and held on for as long as it took for the tone to sound and the doors to open on to their floor. Just touching him had to be enough for now…

Justin exiting first, Brian followed him and concentrated his attention on the heat of Justin's skin beneath his fingers…still neither said anything…both having figured that Justin's assessment was right. They were going back to their room to finish this one way or another.

"Wait a second." Justin stopped suddenly and Brian let his hand slip away from the back of the man's neck. "I need to ask you something, before we go back." Turning to face Brian, he continued. "What would you have given me if I'd asked?"

"When?" Brian looked at his still reddish eyes.

"When I started to want more…you just finished telling me that you won't do roses or words…and you say I started expecting things that I didn't ask for. If I'd asked, what would you have given me? I mean honestly Brian, I think it took this," Justin glanced around. "This situation… everything that happened, for us to even have a real conversation…we don't have those…so…I don't buy it when you say I didn't ask so it's my fault. If I'd asked, you'd probably have told me to go fuck myself and we'd be like this anyway."

Looking at Justin's face for a long time, Brian said nothing. How could he tell Justin that it wasn't really about asking for something or negotiating terms…for a while there they were friends, lovers, partners…many of the things Justin had begged to be to him way back when they first met, if only Brian would let him. As far as Brian was concerned, he had let him and then…what he thought had just happened all on its own…started to fade away to the point where he was sure that he must have imagined it. He wasn't as detached as people liked to give him credit for and because he didn't verbalize it, didn't mean he didn't feel it.

Finally turning away, Brian found the cardkey and slid it into the lock. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, not having waited to see if Justin would follow him, and made his way over to the windows on the far side of the suite.

Sensing the other man's presence behind him finally, Brian began to speak. Began to say the things that Justin had no right to hear but he would say them once and for all.

"When Michael and the rest of them first started in on me about how many times I'd fucked you, what did I say?" Brian focused his attention on a building across the way. It had a crescent shaped logo on the top and he wondered whether or not it might be a bank.

"Nothing." Justin sat down on the edge of one of the overstuffed chairs that littered the window area.

"When you moved in with me both times and they started on about me taking you in, what did I say?"

"Nothing."

"When people started calling us boyfriends, did I deny that?"

"You didn't say anything. They were just teasing at first. They knew you didn't like the word."

"People said we were in a relationship. Did I deny that?" Brian continued.

"No. We were."

"Debbie said I couldn't keep my hands off you to save my life. Did I deny that?" The man dropped his eyes to look at a street below.

"No. For a while there it was true."

"People like Lindsay and even…Ted…started saying how much I must…love you. Did I deny that?" When the other man didn't answer that time, Brian continued, finally turning around to look at Justin. "It was never about negotiating terms and marking each step with another discussion and a new contract…it just happened and when you didn't notice, it stopped happening.

Looking directly at Brian, Justin cheeks flushed red and his insides became hollow. He'd managed to regroup in the hallway and again Brian had managed to take him down at the knees. This time, not by being the quickest with a response, but by actually offering a real response. Justin opened his mouth to say something and no sound emerged. What did you say when someone told you that it was your fault that they didn't love you anymore?

"So you want me, but I fucked up so much that you don't lo…"

"It doesn't work that way…and that's all I can say."

Brian spoke up again and Justin fell silent. He watched as Brian came toward him and he forced himself not to blink or to shake. "Why does it have to be so muddy Brian? Why can't you just say it?"

Stopping in front of Justin now, Brian reached down to pull him up from the chair and leaned in to reach both arms around his waist. "Shut up and listen?" The air that followed these words out of Brian's throat pushed across the skin of Justin's face when Brian kissed him…hard.

No denials and beyond what Justin could see and touch and taste…Brian didn't offer him any more than he'd given him to start with. You didn't get to handcraft your lover and you certainly didn't get to hand pick your lover…as much as you might have thought you did, the truth was that you fell in love with the packaging as advertised and if you were gonna survive, you had to learn to love the parts that you'd discovered over time. As a result, you jumped for joy when you discovered a pearl and took your lumps if you'd been stuck with a person who killed you softly.

Faults and all, it was a package and the beauty and the wit and the passion came hand in hand with the way this person did things, and the experiences that had forged them.

Reaching up to flatten his palms against Brian's chest, Justin pushed back and away. He'd needed to see Brian's eyes and he forced himself to trust what he saw there. Stepping back a little more, Justin reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. The silence in which Brian had watched him dress earlier, was the same silence that he watched him undress in now. Watching as Justin pushed his jeans and then his underwear down his legs…watching as he pulled off his running shoes and socks and finally pulled the pants free of his legs, Brian didn't say anything and only waited until Justin was done.

Whatever resolution had been reached, it hadn't come in the form of a wordy contract or tearful confessions or concessions. They both wanted this badly enough to know that demands wouldn't work, and a year of misunderstandings didn't disappear in the face of what had been said and what had still been left in the realm of faith…and trust. If Justin wanted to tell Brian with words how he felt, he didn't. If Brian needed to make sure that Justin understood what he'd said, he didn't ask. Reaching for Justin's body instead, Brian pushed him down on the bed and dropped a clothed thigh between Justin's as Justin in turn raised his legs around Brian's waist. Still not kissing yet, the younger man relished the feel of Brian's weight on his body, the feeling of the soft cashmere sweater against his chest, the roughness of the denim across legs, and the cool metal of the buttons of Brian's fly against his penis.

Still not kissing yet, Justin watched Brian's face as the man held firm to him. Brian was the one who closed his eyes first and Justin continued to watch his face as the man's lips inched closer and closer to his. Opening his mouth to his lover's, Justin pushed his hands under Brian's sweater and scratched his fingers across the skin of the man's back. Savoring the softness there as well as the soft sighs from Brian's throat, Justin bucked up a little and pulled him even closer. He was licking over Brian's lips now and he swallowed all of what the man had just shared with him. It was Brian's hand against his cock that drove him over the edge, but it was the feel of Brian's equally hard length against his own that brought him back.

Having pulled the buttons at his fly open, Brian didn't dare himself to pull away from Justin to get what they would need and he felt it when Justin held on to him even tighter.

It may have been a mistake a month ago but the cold against his skin when Brian got up last night had been too painful for Justin to repeat. Knowing the reason didn't make it any less palpable and Justin held on to Brian because they didn't need to fuck…they only needed to make sure that they didn't move from this proximity any time soon. Feeling Brian push against his erection, Justin turned his face to bury his moans against the skin of Brian's throat. Feeling the man reach down to close his fist around both their lengths, Justin's moans escaped the muffling and he tightened his hold on Brian's body. They would have to cum from kissing because he couldn't bear for them to move even an inch to do much more.

Sensing this desperation and his own blood boiling more than it had any right to be from what he would have called high school humping, Brian pushed against Justin's penis again and pushed against Justin's tongue with his own again. Saliva wetting his lips and sweat wetting his cock, he slid and slipped against Justin's body while every inch of his skin felt as if it was being incinerated. The coolness of the air on his back from where Justin had hiked up his sweater was being overlaid with the heat from Justin's fingers and the fire from the little points of torture flowing from Justin's searching fingernails. A deep-breath as Brian dove head first into the kiss again, his body fell into a steady rhythm of rocking and grinding against Justin's. Feeling the muscles of Justin's stomach and thighs go rigid against him and feeling the pulses of wetness hitting his own shaft and stomach, Brian upped the tempo and pulled back to look at Justin's face as he came. The other man's eyes were still squeezed shut as Brian leaned down to plant one kiss and then two against his eyelids.

Brian had once told Michael what it "meant" to him to hold someone close all wet and sticky and for what had to be their thousandth time like this, neither Brian nor Justin made any effort to move.

~To be continued~