What if I told you a story about a man who couldn't feel anything any more?

He had lived so fast and so hard and felt so much in such a short time that he was almost positive that he could not and would never feel anything again.

You might say he was calling way too much drama to the situation and that people had relationships end around them every minute of every day. You might say it was the narcissist in him that made him think what he did in fact ‘feel' was different from any emotion that any human being had ever experienced since the dawn of time. You might say all this, but I can vouch for him.

I've seen it in his eyes and if he chooses to tell you his story, he'll be telling you the God's honest truth.

He does not feel anything any more and he is almost positive that he will never feel any of the things he thought natural before.

So I'll tell you what he told me...

He used to love somebody...somebody he was sure loved him back. He used to be stupid enough to think love could only be good for you and he used to be stupid enough to think kindness and second chances could make the most heartless bastard change his stripes. He doesn't think that anymore. All he's sure of is that people come pre-packaged with all their own shit and all their own demons and that no hammer or no series of sweet kisses can do anything to strip them of their identity.

Justin is nothing like he was when I first met him...

"Sunshine, you gonna have breakfast here or wait until we get to the diner." Debbie's voice bellowed from somewhere downstairs and Justin smoothed his hair as he imagined her in his mind's eye. He saw her standing at the foot of the stairs, one hand resting on the banister and the other firmly rooted on her hip. She'd be wearing something too bright and with too many sparkles for this early hour of the morning but she'd be in all her regal glory under a crown of red curls.

"At the diner." Justin called back as he leaned in to the mirror to take a closer look at his face. He'd showered, dressed already and shaved the few hairs that covered his chin and neck. Running a hand over his cheek, he let himself remember a joke somebody liked to make of him. A joke about him being smooth on both ends...that was a long time ago and the fact that this memory did nothing to him, made that time seem even more remote.

Checking out the redness at the corners of his eyes and taking note of the slight scratchy feeling at the back of his throat, he'd decided that he was getting Daphne's cold. He could fight off this feeling for another few days but by Friday, the chills would be here and he anticipated being just a pathetic as his friend had seemed...begging him to bring her some soup...read her a book...or rub her feet.

Justin pushed away from the sink as Vic came through the door and two had an abbreviated dance as they each misread the direction that the other had planned to go in. Finally getting passed the man, Justin smiled a little.

"Checking to see whether you've gotten more good looking today, huh?" Vic teased as Justin crossed the threshold out of the room. He'd wanted to get something more than the hollow smile Justin had just offered him and had to settle for just that when the younger man turned to look at him again.

Going back into his bedroom, Justin grabbed for his backpack and headed downstairs toward the sound of Debbie's voice. He didn't have classes this morning and an extra shift at the diner would mean that he'd finally have enough in tips to pick up some stuff that he'd been needing.

"It's nice out, so my vote is that we walk." Debbie was pinning her nametag into place as Justin made his way down the stairs. Her vote had also been to meddle a little and ask him why his baby blues looked so moody blue, but she'd fought the urge for the time being. After a month at her place, he'd pretty much kept to himself and besides Daphne, they were all lucky if he revealed much of what was going on with him. Not used to not knowing, Debbie was more than close to the end of her rope.

"If you want." Justin headed toward the door and stepped outside into the brisk morning air. Five o'clock in the morning meant that not many people were up and it also meant not many people were around.

No one to ask questions and no one to expect you to look them in the eye when you passed them by on the street.

Debbie's keys sounded in the lock behind him and before pulling the door shut, the woman made one last minute call for Vic to go straight back to bed when he was finished in the can. Justin wasn't sure that the neighbors or Vic had needed that instruction and the things that would have brought a smile to his lips way back when, didn't anymore.

"Well, we're off then." Debbie came to join him on the sidewalk and Justin turned wordlessly in the direction of the diner. As could be expected, wordlessly didn't last very long and Debbie piped up after a few minutes. "Is that jacket warm enough, because it's pretty cool out here and the last thing I would want is for you to catch cold?"

Considering Vic's health, Justin turned to look at her. "Daph had a cold last week and I think I might be getting it. Vic...".

"I'm not saying it just ‘cause I'm worried about Vic. I'm saying it ‘cause I'm also worried about you." Debbie turned to look at him again. "You barely eat and don't think I don't notice that you put off breakfast till the diner, grab one piece of bacon and maybe some juice and then call that a meal." She'd taken to wagging a finger before continuing. "As much as you're gonna want to roll your eyes, you're a growing boy and you need to feed your body."

Justin lowered his eyes to the ground and wondered how he'd managed to forget his CD player and headphones on his dresser. For him, having to come back to Debbie's had been less about a roof over his head than about living in fast rewind.

Having decided that living like a twelve year old at his mother's would be too difficult, and deciding that Daphne and three other women was out of the question, Justin had settled for the one place where he figured being treated like a seventeen year old wouldn't be too bad. He'd been wrong about his tolerance in that regard since, having lived more freely than he ever wanted to, any going back seemed the failure and the regression that it was.

Brian opened his eyes to the room around him and turned his face into the pillow to block out some of the light. The heat next to his body was not made of sheet or pillow and Brian opened his eyes again to take in the shape of the shoulder that was butted up next to his. He couldn't see this man's face and wandered again when it was that this trick had arrived and why it was that he hadn't left long before the light of day. Men rarely slept over here and then again next to never on a weeknight.

Brian lifted himself on to his elbows before leaning over the back of the man's head to see his profile. He remembered his companion as a bartender from Babylon and now he remembered that the man had met him at the loft after closing. Not having bedded down until closer to four that morning, oversleeping his usual demand that a trick get dressed and get out, had been expected.

"What time is it?" The man stirred under Brian and Brian moved his mouth to his ear.

"Time for you to go." He'd spoken his words above the man's ear before rolling over and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

The bed that he still couldn't just sleep in, but over the last month had taken great pleasure in defiling with the hardest dirtiest fucks, threesomes and orgies that any of the men he brought here had ever experienced.

"Right. I remember this part." The trick who Brian would've talked civilly to and even been friendly with had they had a bar counter between them, was expecting the brush off in these circumstances. He was one of Brian's few repeats and in the few months since the last time they'd gotten together, this man hadn't forgotten the routine.

Brian stood up from the bed and reached for a cigarette from the pack on the table by his bed before crossing the room to his closet. In the time that he'd spent sitting at his bedside and listening to the man behind him he'd been mentally selecting a suit for the day.

"Hey, can you give Michael this for me?" The man spoke up over the rustling of clothing somewhere on the other side of the room and Brian turned to look at him. He watched the man pull a twenty from his wallet and drop it on the bed sheets. "I was in his shop the other day and still owed him some money for something I got. I had it for him last night but I haven't seen him the last couple of nights."

Brian huffed a little laugh around his cigarette before turning to look at his closet again. "Mikey is too busy planning his wedding to come out and play. Either way, I don't make deliveries or pass along messages."

The man watched Brian's back for a little while before stepping into his jeans and returning the money to his pocket. "So when are we gonna fuck again?" The now nameless man, that Brian knew as Mark in any other venue, spoke up again and Brian turned to look back at him before tossing his suit jacket on the bed.

"Are you still here?"

Mark laughed a little and flung his t-shirt over his shoulder before reaching for his jacket. "See you later Brian." He'd turned and picked up his boots before leaving the bedroom and eventually leaving the loft.

Brian for his part followed his lead and left the bedroom soon after. Certain ghosts seemed afraid to come out if he had company here, but came on full force as soon as his company left.

"Sunshine, your order's up." Debbie called across the busy diner to shake Justin out of his trance. She'd watched him stealing worried glances at the door for the last five minutes and frankly was getting annoyed with carrying her section and Justin's section alone. This even though she knew exactly what was at the root of his behavior.

"Got it." Justin muttered under his breath and Debbie shook her head. She'd ignored Emmett's question as to whether Justin would be okay and instead moved off to the back to have a word with him herself.

With Justin distracted from his post, this left Michael, Emmett and Ted to watch as both walked away and left no one to keep watch for the storm that was sure to blow through that door promptly at eight o'clock...although...it would be about five or ten minutes late this morning because it had been up late fucking the night before.

...Every morning in the month since that fateful Saturday night and Sunday morning between them, Brian, who had barely stopped into the diner during the month prior, now arrived for breakfast in the back booth come rain or shine. Whether alone or with the rest of the guys, Brian sat in his usual spot and was waited on by the usual waiter who had that section. If he had the pleasure of being on shift, Justin would take his order without looking at his face and all the while Brian would do every thing in his power to make sure Justin knew he was being tracked and observed for every minute that Brian was in the place.

It made for quite the scene for those who didn't know the circumstances and made for quite the show for those who should have known better than to watch.

This morning would be no different and Brian pushed the door to the diner open before shrugging out of his suit jacket. He'd let his eyes move around the space to find Justin and not seeing him immediately, had removed his sunglasses before walking to the back booth. All eyes met his entrance and all who saw got ready for today's events.

"Let the games begin." Ted leaned in toward Emmett and spoke in a whisper before ducking his eyes back to his food.

Glancing up, Emmett in turn leaned across the table to grab at Michael's arm. "Can't you talk to him...make him stop?"

"Right. Like I told Justin a long time ago, next we'll take on Starbucks and make them stop."

"Howdy boys." Brian threw himself into the booth next to Michael and folded his jacket on the seat next to him. "See any cute twinks today?" He'd smiled humorlessly before turning to scan the place one more time.

"I was just asking Michael, how much longer you plan on torturing him. I mean, you don't talk to him for a month and now that he's depressed and alone with this thing with his friend on the rocks, you take great pleasure in flaunting your new found happiness in his face?" Emmett leaned back in his seat and eyed Brian for a reaction.

"Well never let it be said that I don't believe in spreading the wealth." His mind on spreading both happiness and sadness generously, Brian scoffed a little before offering Emmett and then Michael a sweet smile. Michael had yet to speak up and in Brian's opinion, would do as a fine target until Justin showed his face. "Hey Mikey, what's with the furrowed brows. Ben didn't fuck you hard enough last night?"

"Would you just stop it?" Michael had turned to grab Brian's arm before whispering his words for the man to hear. "Justin is a fucking fall down mess since you started your little campaign of word warfare and it's not funny anymore. No matter how much I used to think he deserved to feel like shit for a while, I think you've actually gone too far."

"Since when does the fact that he works here mean that I can't come in and have breakfast, maybe strike up some friendly conversation with the help. If that help happens to be Justin..."

"Jesus Brian, just leave him alone today okay?" Michael watched as Brian bit at his bottom lip a little before turning to smile at him again. Nothing of what Michael saw in his friend's eyes suggested that Justin would be spared his emotional skinning today.

It was then that Debbie came out of the back and it was then that the half smile on her lips faded away. She'd made a beeline for the table and her eyes never left Brian's face in all that time.

"Leave him the fuck alone."

"Debbie I know that you'd wipe Mikey's ass for him if you didn't think he did a good enough job of it but really, I was just talking to him. After all these years, I think he's used to me already." The smile never reached Brian's eyes.

"You know who I mean. That kid has lost weight and he hasn't cracked a real smile in I don't know how long. You comin' in here everyday looking for him is meaner than anything I've ever seen you do and I want you to stop." Most of the patrons had already turned to look by this point and Brian managed to look beyond the woman to see when Justin came out of the back.

"Whether or not he eats or sleeps is of no concern to me. Tell him to take it up with his fiddler, he's the one who dumped him." Brian had addressed all his words to a Justin who now stood a few feet away and he watched as Justin's eyes closed a little. He'd seen the tension come over the younger man's body.

Brian it seemed was offering Justin the same prescription that he'd started using over the last month. Not eating or sleeping were now behind him and he'd achieved this new phase of peace (through anger) by focusing his issues directly on the source.

"What do you want for breakfast Brian?" Justin brought his pad of paper into view and got ready to take the order.

"Your head on a platter." Ted quipped sardonically and suffered the wrath of at least three sets of angry eyes around him.

Justin for his sake showed no wrath, no surprise and no emotional reaction whatsoever. There was only so much torture that could be inflicted before it became redundant in its intended effect.

"Whole-wheat toast and black coffee." Brian smiled at him and the smile was all beauty and all innocence. "See why he gets better tips than you Deb?" Brian offered his words dryly before settling his eyes on his hands. He'd waited for Justin to move only a few feet away before calling after him again. "Before I forget, I have something for you." He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket before withdrawing the folded cheque and tossing it on the table. "It's about that time of year again isn't it, time to pay in on my investment?" Brian's eyes never leaving Justin's face, he dared him to not take it.

Stripped raw by the circumstances under which Brian was doing this, Justin stepped forward and took the cheque from the table. He'd glanced at it absently and looked up at Brian's face when he noticed the amount was wrong. "It's too much."

"We've been through this already Justin. I can afford it."

"No, I mean, for tuition and books, it's too much money...I think you made a mistake."

"No mistake. I figure with a little extra you can help Mozart pay the rent. You know, feel like a contributing member of your relationship...you were always worried about not being able to do that...before." Brian smiled again and this time ‘wicked' was the only word to describe his smile.

"You know fucking well that they're not together any more." Debbie piped up again and shushed a patron who'd had the nerve to interrupt her by asking for his order.

"I know no such thing. That true Justin? The fiddler take his last curtain call so soon?"

"Write me another cheque Brian. This one's too much." Justin placed the cheque on the table and turned around slowly before he went to get Brian's breakfast order.

From what Brian could see, whatever weight Justin had lost in pounds he'd gained in burdens within just a few minutes of talking to him. Seeing Justin this way made sense to Brian...if he didn't think further than the way he'd felt in the minute when Justin had taken someone else's hand and walked away.

"Come by the loft later and pick it up Justin." Smiling innocently, Brian watched Justin turn to look at him before turning away again.

"If you want to fuck him so bad then do it. Do it fast and stop fucking him over as your idea of foreplay." Debbie offered him this advice before moving away from the table and in the direction that Justin had gone.

For some reason those words stung and Brian closed his eyes slowly.

Somewhere under a foot of ice, a part of him thought about what it would be like to touch Justin again.

Thirty feet away and thirty seconds later, Justin pushed the door to the locker room open and stepped inside. He'd locked it behind him before Debbie could intrude.

His emotions had held up their end of the bargain and they'd let him leave the room without incident and without cracking. Now in this semi-privacy, he'd hold up his end of the bargain and let himself collapse under the weight of nothingness.

He felt scraped and bloody and he smiled ruefully at what he must have done to Brian for him to do this now. Running a hand over his face, Justin wiped away the slow silent tears as they made their way down his cheeks to wet his face.

He looked at them on his fingers and in the palms of his hands and only one thing came to mind.

...red.

They might as well have been red because he felt like he was losing energy as fast as he'd lost blood so long ago. He was losing energy for every tear that he shed in the name of Brian Kinney...and for everything that had happened to get them to this point.

...there was red on his hands.

Some part of this man who felt so little that he couldn't tell he was crying but for the red on his fingers and some part of that man outside in the diner who thought his smile covered the deep cut, were the same on the inside.

For the time being, each one truly didn't ‘feel' anything remotely familiar and each one would keep this up for only so long as they could hold on.

~To be continued~