It was just after five in the afternoon, on April tenth, and the Titanic was just leaving Cherbourg, France, and was now headed onward to Queenstown, Ireland.

 Brian was still on the deck of the ship, looking over the back of the stern and into the water beneath him. He had noticed that his blond beauty had long since finished his work of art, and was now sitting alone on one of the benches provided around the ship’s deck. 

He was wary at first, but then decided that maybe he should confront his new admirer. As Brian walked nearer, Justin visibly shrank back farther into his seat. “Good afternoon.” Brian began as he silently asked for acceptance to sit next to the blond. Justin nodded, and Brian continued back to what he was going to say. “I noticed that you were drawing me back there.” Justin looked up in horror.

“I apologize sir. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.” Justin looked back down, into his lap.

This time Brian was taken by surprise. “Oh, no. I wasn’t offended. I’m quite flattered actually.” They both looked into each other’s eyes. “May I?” Brian gestured towards Justin's sketchbook. “I'm Brian, by the way. Brian Kinney.”

Justin handed him the pad. “Justin Taylor,” he began, “traveling artiste extraordinaire.”

Brian chuckled lightly, but was soon serious as he looked into the charcoal form of his paper reflection. He thumbed through more of the pad, and noticed how detailed Justin's work was.

“Justin…” Brian looked back and forth from the paper to the blonde. “This… this is impeccable work!” he looked at Justin in disbelief. “How…? You can’t be a day over thirteen!”

Justin was slightly angered by the other man’s ignorance, and quickly made sure to correct him. “I, sir, am not thirteen. I am seventeen. And I do think it rude of you to assume something of someone you barely know!”

Brian realized that age was not one of Justin’s favorite subjects. He thought, ‘maybe he’s had a rough life.’ Brian’s eyes were a warm hazel as he looked into Justin's ice-cold blues. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that you look so very young, and your work is extremely breathtaking.”

	“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. It’s just… oh. Never mind.” Justin looked off into the blue ocean before them.

	“No. Please, continue. I’d much rather listen to you, instead of going back to my stateroom, where mother will berate me with questions pertaining to my marriage status before dragging me into another boring dinner party.”

	Justin closed his eyes, before looking back to Brian. “Well, if you insist, I guess I’ll tell my story.” He looked sad for a moment. “Why are you even talking to me? You’re from first class. I’m steerage. Aren’t you afraid I’ll give you a disease or something?” Justin laughed lightly.

	Brian’s face gave off a look of disgust. Justin visibly shrank back. “Of course not. That would be my mother… she’s very much afraid of things like that. I’m practical, and smart enough to know that it’s rubbish talk.” Brian got up. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk, and you can tell me all about yourself.”

	Justin reluctantly got up, and with an audible sigh began walking down the long deck with Brian by his side. “Well,” Justin began, “I was born into privilege, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on January third, in the year of our lord, eighteen ninety-six. My father ran off when I was thirteen, leaving my mother with an astounding amount of debt, and not a penny in her purse. My mother died soon after, and I was left alone until I came across a girl named Daphne. She was a runaway, and had nothing but two dollars in her pocket. We became fast friends, and still are to this day. Anyway, we traveled from Pittsburgh by train, until we reached the windy city. Eventually, and even now I can’t recall how we did it, we got to Los Angeles, and worked odd jobs until our lives brought us to the pier in Santa Monica, where I did portraits for ten cents a piece. We traveled, mainly around Western Europe. We spent time in France, and Spain, until reaching England, where we bought steerage tickets aboard the grandest ship in the world, Titanic. And, here I am, walking beside you now.”

	Brian was absorbed into what Justin was telling him. He understood how it felt; feeling like at any moment, what you take for granted every day could be taken away from you, without a moments notice. Of course, his mother was making sure that with Claire’s marriage to Christopher, it would ensure their survival. “Interesting. That’s sad, about your mother. My father died a while back, and, let’s just say that it hit my mother’s purse hard.” Brian looked out at the deck before him. “I never liked the man much myself. He was a drunk, and beat me senseless for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend, to this day even.” Justin turned and looked at him, sympathy in his eyes.
	“…Sorry.”

	Brian almost laughed. “Sorry is bullshit.” His brow furrowed as he continued to walk by Justin's side.

	“I suppose you’re right about that. If anyone was to say, ‘sorry about your mother dying’ or, ‘sorry you’re so poor, Justin’, I probably would have kicked them.”

	“Justin…” Brian trailed off as his hand went to Justin's back and pulled him in close for a soft embrace. They could both feel a mystical pull of electricity. Quickly Brian pulled away, realizing what he had just done. “I…I apologize. I didn’t mean to. I just…”

	Justin was a little shocked, but he didn’t mind the gesture of comfort. “That’s alright, I don’t mind.” Justin gave him a wink, and began walking on without him.

	Brian ran after him, and pulled him in front of him. “You didn’t tell me that you were…” he trailed off.

	Justin gave a sunshine smile and winked again. “Well, it’s not like you told me either.”

	“Well, isn’t that something… two queers, finding each other almost instantly on the fucking grandest ship in the world.” Brian chuckled heartily, and felt a twitch in his pants at the sight of Justin's smile.

	“What’cha laughing at there, sonny?” a loud booming voice with a southwestern accent asked Brian from in front of them, quickly extinguishing any ‘arousal’ Brian had gotten from the blond.

	“Molly? Is it you?” Brian ran over to the stocky woman and gave her a huge hug, which onlookers gasped at. “I haven’t seen you in years!”

	“Yep, it’s me. In the flesh, err… mink. Heheha!” Margaret ‘Molly’ Brown was a millionairess to a gold mine fortune. She was what Brian’s mother would refer to as, new money. She was a heavyset woman in her mid forties, and had an infectious laugh. Molly Brown was the type of person that grew on you. She fought for women’s rights, and was more often then not seen as a disgrace by a few of her socialite ‘friends’. Brian, however, thought that she was an exciting and innovative woman, and he could see that Justin liked her instantly. 

Molly looked from Brian to Justin, and eyed the brunet again carefully before saying: “So, I see you found yourself a boyfriend.” Brian looked at her, awestruck. “Better not let your mother find out, Brian. She’ll just keep blabbin’ that yer all goin’ to hell and such!” she began walking away towards the dining area. “But, y’all got my approval. Don’t worry ‘bout me boys, yer secret is safe with me.” She waved from behind, and disappeared through the door to her left.

“Wow!” Justin began, amazement in his voice. “She’s good…”

“Yeah… good old Molly. She’s definitely a trip.” Brian looked back to the door she exited through. “I met Molly a few years ago, around my fifteenth birthday. My father had come across her out west, during a business trip.” He looked back to Justin. “Although my father was an asshole to me, I have to say that he contributed to many charities, which Molly had actually got him into.” A gleam of light from the sun made Brian’s eyes sparkle as he smiled.

“She sounds quite amazing.” Justin said as he stopped to lean over the side of the ship.

	Brian stopped and leaned over with Justin. “Yeah, she is.” He looked to Justin, and took his hand. “What are you doing tonight, around nine?”

	“Well, nothing I guess. Why?” Justin was being cautious.

	“Well,” Brian began, “I thought that maybe you and I could continue our conversation.”

	“Mr. Kinney… I…” 

	“Please, call me Brian.”

	“Brian, I’m not so sure that would be such a good idea… what would they say… I'm staying in third class… and I'm penniless…” Justin looked at Brian, his eyes silently pleading him to reconsider. “You have to see these people everyday. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

	“You wouldn’t! And to hell with what ‘they’ think!” Brian gave him a reassuring rub on his lower back and looked directly into to his eyes, serious. “Look, Justin. I feel so alone on this ship. None of them understand.” Brian looked over his shoulder. “They’re way too interested in attending dinner parties and planning cotillions to understand the things that really matter in life.” He hesitated. “…Like building relationships, and making real friends.”

	“Alright… alright…” Justin finally gave in.

“Good. It’s settled then. Meet me here, around nine o’clock this evening, and I’ll take you with me up to the first class promenade deck.” Brian gave Justin a quick peck on the cheek, and then he was gone.

	Justin stood there with his hand to his face. “What in god’s name just happened?”