*Authors Note: Okay I lied about chapt. being longer. But damnit Brian and Justin were being stubborn! Enjoy :) * Justin tried to think of anything but what was going to happen when he got back to the loft. He had been in such a hurry to get out of the grocery store, but now he just wished that this was all some weird dream. That he'd wake up next to Brian and they'd laugh about it. But it wasn't. This was real life. He hoisted the paper bag higher up as it started to slip. He couldn't remember what he had bought, the only thing he knew was that there was food in that bag. Justin had been in such a daze that he was on autopilot in the store, grabbing whatever. As he rounded the corner of Tremont and the apartment building came in sight. The artist found his legs not working. His brain told him to go, but for some reason his body didn't want to respond. After long minutes, he managed to get himself into the building, on the elevator and in front of the loft door. Taking a deep breath he tried to gather himself. This was no time to fall apart. He needed to do this. First he was going to make dinner, then they were going to talk and hopefully it wouldn't be as bad as he dreaded. ~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~~-~-~ Brian flinched only for a second when he heard the door slide open. He didn't even bother to look up from his computer. To afraid that Justin might see the fear in his eyes. For fucking sake Brian didn't do fear, he didn't know fear, he didn't do any of the things he found himself doing. All because of the blonde man standing in his kitchen. He bit back a smile as he thought about him. "I got some stuff to make chicken salad." Jutin said, trying to keep his hands busy by pulling things out of the bag. Brian nodded. "Sounds good." He kept staring at the blank screen in front of him, realizing he had been trying to come up with a copy for his pitch for Remson to no avail. They stood in awkward silence for a while, the only noise filling the loft was the clinking of kitchen utencils from the kitchen and an occasional typing sound. "Umm, where do you want to eat?" Justin asked Brian, almost timid. Brian felt a weird emotion arise. The blonde was never timid around him. Always calling him on his shit. "Where ever." Justin nodded and motioned for the taller man to follow him to the kitcen table. They ate in thick silence. Neither one of them really hungry, just finding the bottom of the plate fascinating. After about twenty minutes, Justin stood up and Brian followed suit. Both depositing the dishes into the sink. Justin wanted to wash the dishes, but knew that he was just stalling. So he let it go and went over to the sofa and sat next to Brian. "You okay?" Justin asked. Brian knew he wasn't just asking about right now. He nodded. "Dazzling." The artist wanted to snap at the sarcasm, but decided against it. He opened his mouth but Brian beat him to it. "I didn't think you'd come back again." The artist nodded. "I know. You never do." "So why did you?" Brian couldn't bring himself to look into the blue eyes. Justin gently place his hand onto Brian's face and guided their eyes to meet. "Because I love you. I love you." "But why? I'm selfish. A prick. I fuck who I want when I want no matter the circumstances. I'm fucking-" "Don't be a fucking martyr. Because you aren't getting rid of me that easy." The blonde said gently. "You know you are none of those things. Sure you may like to have sex, who doesn't? But as for selfish. You would give up your own life for Gus or Lindsey, Michael or Debbie. You'd-" "And you." Brian said shyly. Justin stopped. Trying to absorb what Brian had just said. "What?" It wasn't quite a whisper. Brian cleared his throat. "I said you." The artist didn't know how to respond. "You think I don't care about you. That I don't love you." Brian started. "I do. This isn't about that. This isn't about me not loving you." Justin's mouth fell open. "Then what?" Sighing, Brian really wanted a drink. "It's about...Fuck Justin, it's about you living your life. Your dream. Being able to be what you want to be where you want to be and when you want to be. You lost your life the day you met me. I knew that. I knew that night when I fucked you, that things wouldn't be the same for you. So go...just go back to New York." He said the last part firmly. "I don't accept that. You can't just dismiss me like that. You can't-fuck Brian, when are you gonna get it? When are you gonna pull your head out of your ass and see that I'm here?" They sat in more silence for what could've been minutes or hours. Neither one was keeping track. "Who was she?" Brian had to strain to hear it. "What?" "Who was she? That little girl." "Does it matter?" "To me it does." The ad man sighed, knowing that this was it. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see Justin's reaction. "She's my...daughter." When he didn't get one, he looked over to see the blonde sitting very calmly. "Okay." Brian continued to stare at him. Justin breathed in and turned towards the brunette. "Okay." "What?" Brian was a little taken aback by his answer. "How long have you known?" Brian shook his head. "A month or so." The blonde closed his eyes again. "Why didn't you tell me?" When he got no answer he repeated himself. "Why didn't you tell me?" The taller man shrugged. "I...don't even know what to say here." Justin couldn't think. He had so many questions, but knew that this was probably the best he'd get out of Brian at the moment. He picked up his bag and headed towards the door. Brian felt his whole being go numb. This was it. This was the part where Justin walked out on him for good. Justin turned towards Brian and saw a hint of fear in his eyes. "I'm...I'm...I'll be back tomorrow." He promised. Brian nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow. Get some sleep, okay?" Justin nodded back. "I love you." He added as he gently slid the loft door shut.