The place was Lou’s on 5^th Avenue. Standard, smoky sports joint with two middle-aged Romeos hitting on complementing Julietts. Five college jocks, arms on each other’s shoulders were glued to ESPN at the end of the bar while some diva moaned lost love from a jukebox.

Justin tossed wrinkled bills on the bar. His Ziggy-look-alike bartender wordlessly slid a headless beer in exchange. Justin drank deeply, stopped and looked aside when someone sat right next to him despite several empty stools. Shit. Brian.

“I told you not to follow me,” Justin whispered.

“You didn’t say for how long,” Brian was louder. “I almost got stopped for stalking a city bus. Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he took Justin’s arm.

“Would you let go? This is a straight bar.”

Brian kept his hold, scanned faces already drawn to the conversation and announced, “Yes, I’m touching him, but it’s all right because we’re both gay,” with a grin made wider by the jocks’ mad recoil from each other.

“Jesus,” Justin pulled away, slid off his seat and headed for the door. No chance for a peaceful drink now.

Outside, the spit-shower went downpour. Justin hiked his jacket tight around his neck, dodged cars to the center of the six-lane with Brian shouting close behind.

“You’re not losing me!”

Justin stopped and spun around, hair plastered flat and dripping. “Can’t you understand? I have nothing to say to you.”

Brian stopped, also drenched, ignored a blaring car horn as traffic routed around them. “Justin Taylor? Nothing to say? Bullshit.”

“I just needed you to trust me on this, but you can’t, can you? You don’t trust me. I promised I wouldn’t lie to you. But you had to ask, didn’t you? Like you expected I WOULD?”

“OKAY! You want to take it back?”

“I want you to LEAVE. ME. ALONE!”

Justin turned and almost walked into a passing car. It’s loud horn froze him long enough for Brian to catch his arm again. Another car slowed, window down. “Assholes!” the driver yelled and sped up.

Brian gripped an arm around Justin’s shoulders, “If you’re trying to kill yourself, I’m going with you.” He led Justin across the street to the passenger side of the Jeep, pulled his wet pocket inside-out with his keys and unlocked the door.

Justin sleeve-wiped the water from his eyes. “I’m taking the bus.”

“Get in the car,” Brian wiped rain from his own face.

“I’m not going back to the loft,” Justin turned away.

“Get in the car!” Brian snagged his arm.

“Why?” Justin jerked free.

“Because it’s fucking RAINING out!” Brian yanked the door open and leaned forward, eyes rolled up in a sarcastic plea. “Now would you please get in the car?”

Justin slid in as best he could on wet jeans, unlocked Brian’s door in time for Brian to jump in.

Though better protected in his leather jacket, Brian felt soaked, mean and struggling to sound civil. “Where should I take you?”

“My place.”

“Where’s that?” Brian side-eyed, saw Justin shiver. He cranked the engine, put on the lights and wipers and turned up the heat.

“Straight ahead. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

Through the city and back to Justin’s, their talk was formal passenger-to-cabbie. Turn right here. Two more blocks. Slow down. By the time the Jeep parked at a renovated rowhouse, they realized how pathetic they sounded.

The rain let up enough for Justin to hesitate outside the open car door. “Brian? Thanks.” He slammed the door and jogged to one building, heard another door slam. He turned. Brian. “I didn’t invite you in,” Justin unlocked the door and stepped into the hall.

“So call the cops,” Brian stiff-armed the door from closing and let himself in.

Justin exhaled a long breath, faced a stairwell and started down. “Come on.”

The room was a small, clean white-washed square of subdivided basement. Brian watched Justin push through a shower curtain that hung in place of a bathroom door then took in the rest while working out of his jacket. No bed. Mini kitchen. A TV tray with a box of tissue beside a large wing-back recliner covered with a sheet, pillow and blanket. And an art easel with a small stool under a high glass block window. Other artists probably starved in more than this. Yet…there was something…the plants. Large, green…one in each corner near the easel. Giving the niche life, a sense of real.

Justin, rubbing his hair with a towel and holding out another, returned to see Brian staring at the asphalt tile floor. “It’s great for cleaning paint spills. Here.”

Brian took the towel, looked around for a place to hang his jacket and found a hook on the front door. “It’s cozy.” He toweled off his hair, turned to see Justin picking through hung clothing in a small closet.

“I was kinda hoping to have it a little better fixed up before having visitors,” Justin pulled out a robe, draped it on the chair. “This should fit you. Want some tea or instant coffee?” Justin shivered, gripped his arms, eyes wandering to avoid watching Brian.

“I think you should get out of those wet clothes and worry about me later.”

Justin swiped Brian’s pants from his hands. “I’ll just hang these in the shower. There’s an exhaust fan, so they might dry faster.” Justin disappeared into the bathroom.

Brian set the pillow beside the chair, tossed the robe on the floor for his feet then sat down, his long legs crossed at the ankles and feet tapping air as he waited through the sounds of Justin’s undressing. This privacy thing was new. And unsettling. “Justin?”

“What?” Justin pushed aside the curtain.

“I know this thing reclines somehow,” Brian craned over each chair arm, faking clueless.

Justin stalled, strode in naked. “There’s a lever right down here,” he bent beside the chair.

Brian strong-armed him around the waist, pulled him backwards over the chair arm and toward his lap. “Brian! What the fuck are you doing?” He went rigid, tried pushing off with a hand on Brian’s thigh and one on his shoulder, locked his legs on the chair arm.

“Will you just relax?” Brian pulled harder.

“I’m too heavy for this.”

“Then we’ll stay this way all night.”

Justin looked down at Brian, rolled his eyes away, exhaled and settled into Brian’s lap. “You are such an asshole.”

Brian leaned his head back, shut his eyes to enjoy the unusual pressure…and another meaning for cold-cocked. He tensed for a second.

Justin slid his arms around Brian’s neck. “This feels…a little weird. And warm.”

“At least my dick’ll stay soft until you heat up.” Satisfied that Justin would stay put, Brian released his grip, snatched the blanket off the couch arm, flicked it out and covered Justin to the neck. “Bring your legs in.”

Justin raised his knees until his feet cleared the arm then slid his feet onto the seat against Brian’s thighs. That got another jolt.

“Yow. And I thought your ASS was cold.”

“You asked for it.”

Brian tucked the blanket around Justin’s body, taking time to rub his feet, thigh, hip. With his shoulder and arm propped against a wing, he could support Justin’s back with little effort. “You still look good…feel good to me. Nothing’s changed that. Nothing.”

Justin rested his cheek against the top of Brian’s head. From cold and alone, he suddenly felt warm and safe. “Brian-”

“What?”

“Why did you follow me when I told you not to?”

“Because we needed to talk. And you were wrong.”

Brian felt Justin pull back, looked up to defensive eyes. “I’m the one who fucked up.” When Justin shook his head in confusion, Brian went on,“We should’ve talked about the bashing.”

“That’s old,” Justin tightened his arms, leaned his head against Brian’s. Like a need to encase and comfort. “The dreams aren’t so bad anymore.”

“We’re not making that same mistake. Tell me what’s going on with you now. I want to know.”

Justin cleared his throat but still sounded frail. “I’m scared, Brian. More scared than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.”

“You won’t be alone. And don’t even think about ditching me again,” Brian rubbed his head under Justin’s chin, slowly stroked the length of his thigh and hip. “I’ve had a few scary moments myself.”

“You? Hardly. When?”

“That first night you came back.”

“Thanks a lot,” Justin yanked a stray hair.

“Hey!” Brian slapped Justin’s hand, settled down. “I had a…strange dream.”

“About what?” Justin whispered into his hair.

Brian stared at nowhere. His hand finally stopped and spread on Justin’s hip. “I was in the middle of a fire ring.”

“You were burning?”

“No. It was like…my home. I can’t explain it. Then you were there.” He stopped.

“You had a dream…about me?”

“About us,” Brian’s face softened, his hand starting its lazy movements again. “You touched me.”

“Then what?” Justin stroked Brian’s hair.

Brian darkened. He didn’t like the ending – Justin leaving with Ethan. He’d planned this gallant gesture so well…but somehow believed Justin wouldn’t go. He’d closed his eyes to black the scene out. Almost shouted to Justin to come home. But it stayed an internal whisper. The cost of…loving? Agony almost replayed if not for the ambulance that woke him up. “We danced.”

“What about the fire?”

The temptations, doubts, hardships…call it whatever. “It was still there.”

“Mmmm. Flaming passion.”

Leave it to Justin, Brian smiled then winced. “And now would be a good time to shift over. My leg’s falling asleep.” He slid an arm under Justin’s thighs and eased him off to one side while wedging himself to the other. Mental dancing and Justin’s warmth played havoc with his dick.

Justin kept his arms around Brian’s neck, legs stretched across his lap. Their faces level, Justin leaned in and kissed Brian’s lips. “You never told me any of your dreams before.”

“I never told anyone my dreams.”

“So I’m your first?”

“First and only. I’d never tell someone I couldn’t trust.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Brian squeezed Justin’s hip. “Your turn.” Why do you want to leave. “Why are you so afraid?” Were you forced. Sap? Ethan? Chad? Who the fuck did this to you! Hold it. Cool it. Stay…in…control. “Did this…person…threaten you?”

Justin buried his face against Brian’s chest. “No. Just let it alone. Please?”

“If it’s because I blew up…I hated feeling…helpless,” he looked off, sifted his fingers through Justin’s hair. “You were right about the trust thing. So we both fucked up. But if we want to get it back, we’ll have to start SOMEwhere.”

Silence hung until Justin swallowed, shut his eyes. ““It was an accident. We got cut on the same piece of glass.”

Bitter relief. “That doesn’t mean anything, unless you know for sure-”

“It was Vic.”

Brian’s eyes flared open before he managed a calm breath. “Vic.”

“If I…you know…it would kill him worse than anything. But if I don’t say who…people will think…”

“So you pushed me away,” Brian kissed Justin’s hair. “This isn’t the Dark Ages. You don’t have to run around wearing a scarlet A. And fuck what people think. It’s none of their fucking business.”

“I remember things I said about Michael and Ben.”

“Let them be their own talk. Right now…it’s just you and me.” Brian took Justin’s hand and placed it on his hardened cock. “While we’re on the subject…there’s nothing we can’t do that we haven’t always done, as long as we’re careful.”

God, Brian, sex isn’t the answer to everything. Justin withdrew slowly. “Don’t take this wrong. I just…can’t do this right now. You can, you know, stop somewhere. It’s okay.” He gripped a chair arm to pull away but Brian held him down, forcing him to almost beg. “I want you to go now.”

Brian’s eyes moved from one blue eye to the other. Justin could be so cryptic sometimes. But Brian felt a strong read. “Okay,” he whispered. “But before I go, talk to me a little more. I want to listen.”

Brian walked the neon-lit lot to Babylon’s entrance.

“Hi, Brian.”

“Todd. How’s it going,” Brian stated, kept walking.

“Fine.”

“We’re NOT together,” Brian warned as Todd paced at his side.

“I know. We’re just two guys alone, out for another game of back-alley roulette.”

“Back-alley roulette?” Brian grinned aside.

“Yeah. Five chances of catching something curable.”

“All for the pleasure of hot, uncomplicated sex.”

“Yeah, sometimes. But mostly…I guess…if I go out every night, and meet enough people, I’ll finally meet the right one. Isn’t that what everybody does?”

“Not everyone is looking for Mr. Right.”

“Then…what’s the point of taking the risk?” Todd glanced over a shoulder when he realized Brian had stopped a couple steps back. “Aren’t you going in?”

Some desires were just too potent. That electric fever from deep voices moaning and balls slapping, lips sucking. Musky smells of sex and sights of hard muscles pounding. All the sensations that added to the high…of control…and release…more than a drug high, or whiskey buzz. Highs so fucking great while they lasted. Until you came crashing back crawling and sick and desperate for more. To fill a void you didn’t know was there…until someone came along…then you knew. . . and there was no turning back.

Brian took risks. Calculated to his favor. If the odds fell against him, such was life. But it wasn’t like that anymore. Someone else to consider. Someone who might need him to be around for a long time.

“Not tonight.”

Brian walked back through the lot, through the red neon and blue strobes.

Outlined in soft light through his window, Justin sat before his easel in the dark, thinking – I turned him down. He stayed anyway.

Brian walks away; Justin considers his next move.

Song: “The Test” by The Chemical Brothers

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