The two men continue to try to find a way to stay together, despite their distance apart. Will they eventually succeed? Story Conclusion!

Late Afternoon...

"Brian?"

"Hmm?"

Lying in Brian's arms on the office's couch, Justin murmured sleepily against his lover's chest, "What time is it?" He loved feeling like he was surrounded by a warm cocoon...and how secure he felt when Brian was holding him.

Justin's lips tickling his skin, Brian glanced over at the desk clock before replying, "Almost five. Why? Have a date tonight?" he quipped. For just a second, the thought send a pang of jealousy shooting through him, even though he meant it to come off as a teasing remark; after all, he had never contemplated that Justin might have some other admirers - although he definitely could - but at the same time he thought he could read him well enough to know that it wasn't true. At least, he hoped not. Justin didn't seem like the 'casual fucking' sort of guy, but then again, it wasn't as if they didn't fit into that category to some extent. It was certainly not by design, though, and hopefully they could rectify that just a bit in the coming months. In fact, he planned on spending a LOT of time with Justin as their schedules would allow. He had never considered Justin a one-time thing for some reason, despite their unorthodox method of meeting initially.

He was relieved, then, when he heard Justin chuckle softly. "Somebody's jealous," he sing-songed as Brian snorted in an attempt to belittle that thought, but he couldn't come out and actually ridicule that statement. Little shit. Even though they rarely saw each other in person, somehow he knew him better than most, if not all, of his friends that he saw every day.

Justin smiled, pleased at the thought that Brian could actually be jealous, before he responded honestly, "No, you idiot! I don't have a date. You're the ultimate 'date.' How could I top that?" he asked with a smile.

Brian smirked. "Indeed. Interesting choice of words." Justin rolled his eyes as Brian paused before stating softly, "Maybe one day." Justin's eyebrows shot up at that thought before Brian added, "I said some day, Warhol. Anyone who didn't know what "Manhole Cover" meant isn't quite ready for that yet." He grinned as Justin glared at him before something suddenly occurred to him as they lay there, sated, sticky, and drowsy. Justin always had that effect on him; well, that, and the simple fact that his stamina, at times, even wore HIM out. "Where are you staying while you're here in school? The dorm, I guess? Or more luxurious quarters befitting your Princess status?" He chuckled as he deftly caught Justin's arm by the wrist, just before he would have delivered a stinging blow. The man definitely had quick reflexes!

If Justin hadn't been lying down, Brian had no doubt he would have had his hands on his hips by now. "No, I'm not staying at the Ritz," he told him pointedly as Brian shrugged. "But...I'm also not staying at the dorms. Let's just say it's a cross in-between. It's within walking distance, but it's actually an apartment."

"A dive in some beatnik enclave?"

Justin pried himself out of Brian's arms to sit up on the couch, Brian joining him seconds later. "No!" he told him defiantly. "It's...not very large," he admitted. "But it's cozy."

Brian smirked. "I rest my case; any time someone describes their living quarters as 'cozy,' it's a dive."

"It is not," Justin protested. "It's in a good neighborhood, and while it might not be the most spacious apartment..." He paused to look at Brian's smug, 'I told you so' expression, before he hastened to add, "But it has a good-sized bedroom, a galley kitchen, and a decent-sized living room. And a private bathroom. That's all I need."

"Uh, huh. Well...you know... it can get really expensive living out of a hotel suite. I wonder if there might be a more economical option? You got any ideas?"

Justin turned his head to peer over at his lover, temporarily stunned into silence. "You mean...you...and me...in MY apartment?"

Brian wrapped his arm around Justin's bare shoulder, using his thumb to stroke his lover's skin and sending shivers down the blond's spine. He shrugged. "It occurred to me. We want to spend more time together. You have your classes, I have this new company to get off the ground. When else would we see each other? You DO have a bed, right?" Justin hesitated. "Don't tell me. It's a twin bed whose mattress you picked up at the local Goodwill." He shuddered at the thought. Just how far was he willing to go to be with his younger lover? Probably anything, you doofus; even that, he couldn't help thinking. And it was true. He would. That was how badly he wanted to be with him, and the thought astounded him in a way.

Justin grinned, trying to concentrate amidst the intense feelings Brian's touch was engendering in him. "Well, you're close, but no Goodwill mattress. It's a Murphy bed. And I'll have you know that the mattress is new. I just bought it."

Brian frowned. "What the fuck is a Murphy bed?"

Justin played with a lock of Brian's hair as he described what it was. "It's a bed that folds up flush with the wall, so it's out of sight when not needed. It helps give me more space."

"Will wonders never cease," Brian deadpanned. "And just what size IS this Murphy bed? Big enough for two?"

Justin beamed as he nodded. "Yeah...It's a queen-sized bed."

"How appropriate," was the dry response. He grinned as Justin glowered at him. "But, still...it might be sufficient."

Justin refused to get his hopes up, but couldn't help fervently wishing that the conclusion he was rapidly jumping to was correct as he asked, "What should be sufficient?"

Brian gazed into the fathomless, blue eyes before he softly explained, "Sufficient enough for two, horny queers to fuck, sleep, and fuck some more on a daily basis." Before Justin could comment, Brian quickly added, "After all, I believe in comfort, but I'm also thrifty. Just like the Boy Scouts."

Justin laughed. "Somehow I think you have never been in the Boy Scouts."

Brian smirked. "Believe me, if I had known I was gay at that age, I would have been in them, all right."

Justin snorted before what Brian had said really sunk in. His face broke out into a radiant smile. "You mean you would move in with me when you could stay at some swanky hotel suite, instead? Honestly?"

Brian ignored the skipped beat of his heart in reaction, but couldn't help smiling back at him. "Yeah...I would make the ultimate sacrifice. My creature comforts in exchange for some hot sex with a not-so-ugly-looking blond. Although...I have seen some pretty good-looking wait staff there, though." He chuckled as Justin's lips pressed together in agitation. There was that 'look' again. "Relax, Warhol. I just love yanking your chain," he explained.

The blond glared at him. "Well, keep it up, Dean. And that will be the ONLY thing you'll wind up yanking."

Brian burst out laughing at the indignant expression on Justin's face. He hadn't heard that nickname for him in quite some time - not since the beginning of their unconventional relationship - but it brought back pleasant memories. And he fucking loved it whenever Justin gave as good as he got. He quickly verified with a smile, "Don't worry; you have nothing to be concerned about. It would be hard to match what you give me...very hard." He reached to grasp Justin's hand and bring it down to his cock.

Justin rolled his eyes, not resisting the urge to squeeze the rapidly-growing flesh under his touch before reluctantly pulling away. He could feel his own desire flaring once more, but he tamped it down as he admonished him, "Can't you be serious for one moment? Brian, I really need to know. Would you be happy living in something that would fit inside your own hotel room, twice over?"

"How do YOU know if it would? You haven't seen it."

"True," Justin admitted. "But I know enough about you, and your taste for comfort without even needing to see it. Let's face, it, Brian. You will never be on the Holiday Inn Frequent Rewards Program."

Brian looked aghast. "HELL, no!" he agreed. "But I wouldn't mind being a member of the Justin Taylor Frequent Fuck Program, and living with you would certainly up my point total."

Justin laughed. "How romantic! Now we're getting to the bottom of things."

"You got THAT right," Brian deadpanned, tongue planted firmly in cheek. "And what a bottom it is. You know, you could market that. If I could just find a way to advertise it properly..."

"My 'bottom,' as you so quaintly put it, is only interested in being placed on show for one client...you."

"As well it'd better be," Brian growled as he pounced on Justin, pushing him down onto the couch; his lover squealed as Brian proceeded to tickle him around the waist.

"Stop that!" Justin managed to plead with him in between fits of laughter. Brian gazed into the twinkling eyes of his 'captive,' and his fingers stilled on the warm skin.

Justin gazed up at him quizzingly. "Brian?" he asked curiously, wondering why he had stopped, although he could feel the other man's arousal caught between them, and his own cock hardening in response.

Brian peered into his eyes, into that gloriously beautiful face, the words wanting so desperately to emerge. But he just couldn't for some reason; not those, anyway. Perhaps he could compromise, though. "Justin, I really care about you," he whispered.

Justin gazed into his face, seemingly accepting that statement was the best that he could expect from someone like Brian. At least for now. "I feel the same way," he told him with a smile, although he knew that was just the surface of how he felt. He knew Brian was the ONE, and how deep his feelings ran. One day, he would have the chance to freely tell him that. But for now it was enough.

Brian let out a sigh of relief. "Well...now that we have that out of the way, and our living arrangements have been settled, how about we go see what sort of hovel I've talked myself into?"

Justin, however, shook his head, not feeling self-conscious at all that they had been cavorting naked in Brian's office suite for what had to have been hours now. "Not yet."

Brian acted surprised, but he wasn't. "No?"

Justin shook his head again solemnly. "No. Not until we properly christen our agreement."

Brian grinned as he swooped in for a brief kiss. "I think that can be arranged."

Epilogue - Four Years Later...Campus of SAIC

"Justin, will you please stop squirming? I swear, you're worse than a kindergartner at their graduation!"

Justin huffed as Daphne worked to straighten her friend's tie before using her palms to smooth out the satiny fabric of his graduation gown. "Will you please stand still? They're about to line up!"

"I hate wearing this thing!" he whined. "And why do they have to call it a gown, anyway?"

"Because it's for drama queens?" Brian interjected as he walked into the dressing room where an exasperated Daphne was trying to help his partner get ready. He grinned as Justin glared at him. "Is the esteemed artiste getting impatient?" he asked the young woman.

"What do YOU think?" she replied dryly. She threw her hands up. "By all means, please take over." She shook her head. "I'm glad he only graduates once." She smirked at her friend. "He already has the artist temperament down: sullen and demanding."

"Hey!" Brian chuckled at his lover's indignant reply. "I just hate all this stuffy shit, that's all."

"You go ahead and find us a seat, Daphne. I'm up to the challenge," Brian assured her.

"Gladly," she responded as she pushed some of her thick hair back from her face. "Good luck! You'll need it!" She laughed as Justin promptly threw his cap at her before she told him she would see him after the ceremony. She, Brian, Emmett, Vic and Gus were taking the new graduate out to dinner to celebrate; Brian had initially planned on offering to host it, but to his chagrin Justin had beaten him to the punch. It was a little hard to admit that someone else had the same sort of financial means as he did, but he appreciated his younger lover including Gus in their party. Justin had come to love the little boy just as much as he did, and the feeling was mutual with his son. He adored Justin, who had spent untold hours with him, helping him finger paint, draw; even play in the local park's sandbox with some of his son's toy construction equipment. Because of that - and the fact that both Mel and Lindsay had met Justin a few times, and had grown fond of him - they had agreed to allow Gus to fly out to Chicago to spend the weekend with his father, who had dispatched Cynthia to accompany him, and who was presently keeping an eye on him until the ceremony was over.

Brian walked over to gaze into the crystal blue eyes intently staring back at him. He reached up to finish knotting Justin's tie, his breath catching at the expressive face.

"Hey, I'm trying to breathe here!" Justin grouched as he reached to loosen the snug knot. "Are you trying to strangle me?"

Brian grasped Justin's wrist to stop him, earning a decided scowl. "Ha, don't tempt me! And don't you dare touch that, Warhol!" He smirked at him. "Don't worry; I won't let you suffocate. Do you want to get up there on stage and look disheveled?" He grinned. "But I'll be glad to disrobe you later, though." Justin snorted as Brian briefly stroked his lover's cheek. "I'm so fucking proud of you," he told him softly, instantly earning a misty-eyed smile in return.

"Brian," Justin murmured, grasping his partner's biceps to stand on his tiptoes and deliver a quick reward kiss for his remark. "Stop it," he gently admonished him, feeling his eyes tearing up. He let out a deep breath to steady himself, a little nervous about having to speak in front of so many people. When he had first begun his program four years ago, he never in his wildest dreams thought he would have been selected as the keynote student speaker at his graduation, an award given to the person whom the faculty felt was the most promising artist of the graduating class. "Okay," he told him. "I'll leave it alone, as long as you make sure you follow up on your promise."

Brian was thankful that they were alone in the cramped space that held the gowns students from SAIC would wear that evening for their graduation. Not that he would have cared to show any damn person at all exactly how deeply he felt about Justin. But he selfishly realized that he wanted some time alone with him before he had to appear in front of hundreds of fellow graduates, the faculty, their friends, and family. "Well, you know I always keep my promises. You'll look downright annihilated by the time I get done with you. And if you want to feel suffocated later, I'll be sure to give you something to wrap your mouth around to give you that nice, full feeling."

Justin's face reddened at the mere thought. When Brian got into one of his 'moods' like this, it meant they were in for a marathon of fucking; not that he was complaining. But now he had to try and concentrate on something else, or he would have to explain why he had such a large bulge underneath his graduation gown. Thank God it wasn't form fitting. At least that was one good thing about what was otherwise a silly-looking satin piece of fabric. "Fucker," he muttered as Brian gave him a smug look.

"Sorry, it'll have to be later," Brian told him, laughing as Justin harrumphed back at him. "And who knows? Maybe I'll even return the favor as your graduation present," he added as Justin's eyes widened. That didn't happen too often, but when it did, holy shit. He could count on one hand how many times he had topped. "After all, this is a special occasion. There might be all kinds of surprises coming up," Brian continued mysteriously, enjoying the curious frown on Justin's face. He glanced up at the clock hanging above the closet door. "We'd better come out of the closet, or you're going to be late," he joked with him.

Justin laughed. "Nice segue," he told him. "I think you're a little late for that." He inhaled another breath, feeling his pulse racing the closer it got to 'show time.' "Okay; guess I'll just have to trust you." Brian smiled back at him, pecking him on the lips one last time before they turned to go. "Where are you guys sitting?" he asked him.

"About three rows up in the center," he told him. "So if you get nervous, just look down at us. Or, you can use the standard trick, and just imagine all the big, fat, balding professors sitting beside you in their underwear with their pot bellies sticking out, salivating over your ass while you're speaking."

Justin crinkled his nose in distaste. "Eww... thanks. Now I'll have THAT to think about while I'm speaking, too."

"How about I give you something else to think about?" Brian murmured in the rich voice that Justin had first heard, and had come to love over the phone. He couldn't help leaning in to give Justin a proper kiss this time, even though he knew the coordinator for the ceremony would likely be having an anxiety attack of her own, realizing their featured speaker wasn't on stage yet. He reluctantly pulled back, noticing a sort of goofy, dazed look on his lover's face, as he shook him slightly by the shoulders to get his attention. "Come on, Warhol. Your adoring crowd awaits."

"Including you?"

"Don't stretch your luck." He reached down to retrieve Justin's cap and placed it back on the blond head, making sure the tassle was located on the correct, pre-graduation side. With one last tug on Justin's gown to straighten it out, he smacked his lover on the ass playfully as the two of them headed toward the door leading out into the main hallway.

Later that Evening - Brian's Hotel Suite - Chicago

Justin gazed out at the skyline of downtown Chicago; it was so different than the view from his much smaller college apartment, the one he would have to vacate by the end of the month. It wasn't that he would have minded staying there. He had grown fond of the neighborhood, and it held very pleasurable memories of him and Brian spending many pleasant nights there while he had been setting up the new subsidiary office of Kinnetik. Plus, once Brian had returned to Pittsburgh, it had continued to serve as his partner's home-away-from-home. Yes, it was rather small, and Brian groused about it. But Justin knew it was mainly to maintain his image, and that he didn't seem to mind; not as long as the two of them were together. It was exactly how he felt, too. Only now, he would be leaving Chicago permanently, and heading back to New York City, the capital of the U.S. art world.

He sighed, a sound that was not lost on his lover, who walked up to stand behind him and slide his arms around him. "That's some pretty loud thinking that's going on, Warhol," he whispered in his ear, his breath warm and his voice soothing. It still made Justin shiver. He figured Brian would always have some sort of electric effect on him. He had felt it from the first moment they had seen each other, and from the first instant they had touched. "What's going on?"

Justin smiled, feeling melancholy. "Just admiring the view," he told Brian, which was true...to a point. The lights from downtown Chicago reflecting off the water below were breathtaking, and all of them seemed to twinkle like a million stars.

"Me, too," Brian whispered as Justin grinned, knowing he wasn't talking about the same view. He turned to gaze into his lover's eyes.

"Gus asleep?" he asked. Brian had booked a large, two-bedroom suite for the three of them; Emmett, Vic, and Daphne having departed earlier to head back home. Home. He wondered exactly where that was now. The thought of returning to New York City was thrilling in a way; he already had some leads for possible art showings at a few of the smaller galleries there, mainly thanks to his professors, especially Mr. Faberini, who had continued as a sort of mentor to him while he had been in school. But it also meant leaving Brian - again. Every time they were apart, he missed him terribly. He reflected upon how selfish that sounded. But every time they reunited, it was absolute bliss. And every time they had to part, it was part torture, part hell.

"Yep. Out like a light. Clutching that Picasso Bear you bought him." He chuckled softly. "And I thought Linus had it bad. He loves that bear, Justin." Earlier that day, the three of them had spent some time at the mall downtown, and also at an art supply store a block away; it was Justin's favorite place to go whenever he ventured into the heart of Chicago, and on impulse he had purchased the brown, wirily curled bear with a jaunty beret on his head, a palette in one hand, and an art brush in the other. Gus had been delighted with it, and hadn't let go of it since then. To Brian's amusement, his son had even eaten one-handed, so he could hold onto his newest friend. "You know he even sat that damn bear on top of the toilet seat while he took his bath?"

Justin grinned. "I'm glad he likes it that much."

"Well, it's more typical for the graduate to get a gift, though; not the other way around."

Brian watched as his lover smiled; that glorious, blazing smile of his that only belonged to HIM as Justin replied, "I already have everything I could possibly want. You couldn't make this day any better than it already has been." He turned his head to take in the opulent surroundings. "I mean, look at this place, Brian!" He shook his head as he linked his hands around Brian's neck to pull them closer. "It's incredible! But you know what? As long as I'm here - with you - we could have been in some fleabag hotel on the outskirts of town, and I would have been just as happy."

"NOW you tell me!" Brian deadpanned, smacking his head with the heel of his palm in a mock "V-8" moment. "We could have just stayed in your apartment, then." He laughed as Justin huffed iback at him. "That is...if your lease wasn't up." Brian was quiet for a few moments before he revealed, "Well, no matter. I got the next Andy Warhol a proper gift, anyway." He noticed Justin's eyes light up at the thought, and a smile break out on his face, reminiscent of a young boy on Christmas morning. He briefly thought of how his chance meeting with this amazing man had been the best present anyone could had ever received - and how HE had gotten the best gift of all - before he turned and headed into their bedroom, emerging a moment later with a small, flat package in his hand, which he gave to Justin. "Open it," Brian urged him, watching him closely to gauge his reaction. What he was about to do was break every rule he had ever made for himself, but to his astonished surprise, he found that it didn't make him nervous. At least, not that part, anyway. Perhaps what DID make him anxious was what Justin's reaction would be as he watched him study the unique wrapping.

His heart beating like a trumpet at a high tempo, Justin sat down on the couch to scrutinize the object - wrapped in what appeared to be a cartoon page. He wanted to tear right into the wrapping to see what treasure it held inside, but forced himself, instead, to carefully remove the outside paper as if it, too, were a gift. He found himself wanting to preserve every bit of his time with Brian; hell, he even had the first rose he had given him, pressed into one of his favorite art books back home (although he would never tell HIM that; he figured he would think that was far too sentimental and foolish). Finally, the folded cartoon page fell away, and he was able to see what it held inside: a expensive but simple, butter leather sketchbook with a gold-trimmed, scrolled edge. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface, enjoying the feel of the luxurious leather exterior, and couldn't help smiling in awe. "Brian..." He lifted his head to peer into the now familiar hazel eyes. "It's beautiful." He recognized the high quality of the object he held in his hands.

"I'm glad you like it," Brian murmured, his own heart thumping nervously.

"But aren't you worried that I'll lose this one, too?" Justin teased.

"Oh, I took care of that," Brian told him mysteriously, earning a frown in return. "Open the front cover." He held his breath as he watched his lover do as he was instructed, noticing his eyes widen as he read the small, gold, metallic plate that had been attached with rivets to the upper left-hand corner of the book:

He watched as Justin groaned. "Did you have to use THAT email address?" He felt his face warm in embarrassment. He had been so naive back then.

"Well, I thought it was appropriate...under the circumstances," he explained as Justin rolled his eyes, glancing down at the label again. He waited a few seconds more before he noticed Justin's expression changing, and then he knew. He knew that Justin knew.

"Brian... This isn't my address in New York City," he observed. "What...?" Justin shook his head as he reread the address. "I don't understand..."

Brian took a deep breath to reinforce his fortitude as he explained, "Well, if I'm going to open another branch of Kinnetik in New York City, I figured I needed a proper working space to start out in, rather than trying to work out of a hotel suite." He exclaimed, "It was hard enough to get the one here in Chicago off the ground! It won't be easy," he continued before Justin could respond, "...but it's always been a dream of mine. To play with the big fish in the biggest advertising pond of all. Shit, apartment rentals are so fucking expensive in New York City, though! I may have to start out in Chelsea or Hell's Kitchen, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that we're in the same city together." He brushed his hand through his hair anxiously. "Justin? What are you thinking? I was hoping this was what you wanted... I'm tired of us only getting to see each other occasionally, and Mel and Lindsay have agreed to let me have Gus every other weekend, and also for an extended time during his breaks from school. I mean, I can't have him going back and forth while he's still a..."

He didn't get to finish his statement before Justin jumped into his arms and plastered his lips against his, linking his arms around Brian's neck, the book still clutched tightly in his hand. It would be several seconds before they broke for air, and could continue their conversation. "I take it you're okay with me moving to New York City?" he observed wryly as they finally ended their kiss. He was vastly relieved. He had hoped that would be his reaction, but until now he hadn't been sure.

"Brian... Are you kidding me? Of course I'm okay with it!" He paused for a moment as he thought about all the implications. "But this is a pretty serious step. Are you sure you're doing this for YOU? That it's the best thing for you?"

"I don't say anything I don't mean, Justin. Ever." He paused before adding, "It may take me a while to get there. But I never say anything unless I mean it. So...you're all right with my decision, too? With us being in the same place all the time?"

Justin grinned. "Well, yes... and no." He noticed the look of confusion on his lover's face as he explained," Brian...you don't need to look for a place to live! My God, my father's penthouse has enough room to fit an entire commune! Even with the wait staff, my father way overdid our living space when he bought the apartment. There is NO need for you to look for a place to live. Why go to that expense, especially when you're trying to get Kinnetik off the ground? This way, you can concentrate on building up your company in New York city during the day..."

Brian smiled as he finished his sentence, "...and concentrate on YOU at night." Justin's smile widened as Brian grinned back at him. "I like the way you think, Warhol. Sure you don't want to come work for ME? I need creative talent that thinks outside the box."

"Tempting," Justin admitted. "But you know that's not where my heart lies, Brian. Plus, I suspect we wouldn't get a lot of work done...would we?"

Brian grinned. "Perhaps you're right about that. And...I know," Brian replied softly. "That would be a waste of talent."

"But..." Justin gazed back at him with an impish look on his face.

Brian lifted an eyebrow as he waited for Justin to answer. "But...?"

"...but that doesn't mean we still can't do a little brainstorming at night, or on the weekends. That is, in between 'other activities' that might otherwise keep us preoccupied. My father always insisted on the best quality," he told Brian. "Whether it was employees, products, or even how much insulation there was between the walls of our apartment. He was a perfectionist in every sense of the word." Perhaps that was why it had been so hard at times for his father to demonstrate his love for him, even though he knew he did.

Brian nodded solemnly as he pulled Justin closer into his embrace. "Well, you can never have enough insulation between the walls. Especially when someone makes more noise than a subway train when they're being fucked," he teased as Justin turned red in the face. He couldn't help if it Brian brought out so much pleasure in him, and he couldn't hold back his vocal expression of his 'gratitude.'

Brian's face grew more serious, though, as he asked, "Justin, are you sure? About all of this? I mean, I know I'm sure about opening up another office of Kinnetik in New York City no matter what. But the rest of it is negotiable." Indicating how he felt was always so damn difficult for him to express aloud (in fact, had he ever been this open with anyone else besides his son), but he forged ahead anyway. "I just want us to be closer than the nearest computer for a change, or just conveniently in the same city for a while. Web cams are so overrated, especially when you have the real thing in your arms."

Justin blushed. Just being able to actually kiss and touch Brian so frequently while he had been in school had only made him crave more. How could he ask for anything more than for him and Brian to be in the same city on a permanent basis? And not just any city; New York City. The epicenter of art and commerce. It was a perfect match. THEY were a perfect match; at least in his opinion. "Brian, I couldn't be more sure of anything. Yes. I want it. I want YOU. Move in with me. It makes perfect business sense."

"Just business sense, Warhol?" Brian asked quietly.

Justin reached up with his free hand to lay his palm against his lover's cheek. "You know there's a lot more to it than that." He blinked back the moisture in his eyes as he hoarsely whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "Brian, it's a dream come true. I can have my art...and you. Together in one place. Something I never thought would be possible. I still can't believe it. But it makes me happier than you will ever know."

Brian reached up to grasp Justin's hand, kissing the knuckles before bringing both their hands to rest on his chest. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," he whispered back. "I think I know exactly how you're feeling." He swallowed hard. Reaching to gently extract his gift from Justin's hand to place it down on a table nearby, he took Justin by the hand and led him over to the suite's couch so they were sitting facing each other. Justin lifted his eyes to gaze into his expectantly. Justin's face was also so open, so indicative of how he was feeling, and the love that he could see so clearly shining back at him provided him with the courage he needed to speak from his heart. To finally, at last, tell this remarkable, beautiful, intelligent man how he felt. He shook his head slightly in amazement before he took a deep breath. "Justin...That book I just gave you. It's the best money can buy. It's shiny. It's new. It was expensive." Justin harrumphed in a sort of 'was there ever any doubt?' type of sound as Brian shrugged back at him. "But if I had to choose between that book, or that threadbare one that was left on the subway, I would choose the first one every time. Because that book...that damn, elusive sketchbook that was almost a part of you, of who you are...that sketchbook that gave me my first glimpse of you; that's what led to us meeting. And it was also the catalyst for making me do something that I never in my wildest dreams thought that I would ever do." He rolled his lips under, suddenly feeling almost shy. Definitely awkward.

Justin's breath hitched over the words spilling out of his lover's mouth. "What...what is that?" he asked, as Brian reached to grasp his other hand in his.

Oh, shit, Brian thought as he gazed into the depthless, blue eyes boring into his. They made him both intimidated in a way by their unwavering steadfastness in refusing to look away, but they also emboldened him at the same time. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. Just say it, you coward. "It made me fall in love with you," he finally verbalized out loud as he let pure adrenalin take over. It was something he had known for some time, but until now he had never had the courage to say it. He was relieved to see a radiant smile break out on Justin's face immediately afterward, and even though he hadn't said a word to him yet, he knew. Yes, he knew.

But it still felt wonderful when Justin swallowed hard before responding, "God, I love you too, Brian. So much. If I had known about you before, I would have lost that sketchbook a long time ago; at least temporarily, anyway," he amended as Brian laughed with pure joy.

The two men then met of one accord as they fell into each other's arms, clinging to each other as if they would never let go, and both of them sure that somehow their lives would be entwined for a long time to come.

And they were. Brian's company grew and flourished as each year went by, while Justin's reputation and talent slowly became more and more well known. And each day before Justin awakened (because he was always the sleepyhead between the two of them), he would find one, long-stemmed, single red rose on the nightstand next to his bed. And he treasured each one - as well as the man whose fate had intermingled with his on that one, fateful day at the subway. New York City was, indeed, a wonderful town.