Title: Not this time.

Characters: B/J. (all)

Spoilers: all seasons

Rating: Well, it is Qaf... so go figure.

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine at all. If it were QAF season 5 would have had 12 episodes.

a/n: This story is set 5 years after Justin leaves Pittsburgh to pursue his art career in New York. My first QAF fic.

Justin stood outside of the New York academy of art and took a moment to collect himself together before advancing up the steps towards the entrance. He had dropped out of Art college, more than once, and now he was a guest speaker. It made little sense and as he walked through the hallways toward the lecture theatre he wished that he had said no, but it was too late to run now. The shrine to past artists hung on the walls like reminders of what could have been and Justin let out an agitated sigh at the pretentiousness. If these works of art, all seemingly self-important and jaded was what he was meant to lecture about then he really was wasting his time.

"Mr. Taylor!"

A voice came from the crowd behind him, then a man nudged his way through the wall of chatting students. And as Professor Jacobs came strutting into view tall, dark, handsome, queer and just his type Justin suddenly remembered why he had agreed.

"I'm glad you could make it." The handsome lecturer shook his hand. "I'm a big fan."

"Really?" Justin smiled and looked down at the zipper of the professor's pants; old habits died hard.

"Oh, yes. I've been following you ever since your exhibit at museum 52."

"If all my stalkers looked like you then I really wouldn't mind."

"Maybe we could get a coffee later?" he suggested. "or go back to your studio, you can show me where you work your magic."

"I can work my magic any-time and anywhere."

"Then in that case, Is there anything I can help you with prior to your lecture?"

Justin smiled, slowly ran his hand over the man's shirt until he reached his belt buckle, then pulled him into the empty lecture theatre and shut the door behind them.

"Theadore?" Brian pressed the button on the intercom. "Get your ass in here."

"You called?" Ted walked in and shut the door behind him then just about managed to dodge the file that Brian flung towards his head. "something wrong?"

"Why the fuck did I hire you?"

"Because accountancy is my true calling?"

"You fucked up the turnover numbers." he threw another file at him. "Do them again and do them right this time."

"Thy are right." Ted picked the papers up from the floor and flicked through them, casting a fine eye over the columns. "These all look fine to me."

"Well, look closer."

Brian pulled on his jacket and pulled up the collar. "I have to call the least merry of the merry munchers and see Emmett to discuss the last minute plans for Gus' birthday bash."

"So, Gus is having his birthday bash with you this year?"

"It's my turn," Brian said, "and its costing me a fucking fortune, which is why I'm going to Woody's for some alcoholic refreshment to numb the pain and a good solid fuck. When I come in tomorrow I want either that report corrected, or your ass on a plate. Comprende?"

"Comprende."

Justin spent a good hour and a half going through slides of his work, ranging from the early days before the bashing right through to the ones he had only just competed, answered questions on homoerotic genre and experienced more than a little snobbery from students. But now he was packing up and he couldn't wait to get out of that theatre. A few students came to him and shook his hand, asked for advice and left; now it was just a matter of getting through town back to the studio during rush hour. Just as he was about to leave he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and a familiar voice in his ear."

"Great lecture, sunshine."

"Linds?" Justin turned around and hugged her tight. "You look great."

"Not so bad yourself." she punched his shoulder. "Look at you, Mr. big-time guest speaker."

"I'm just glad its over." Justin hitched his bag over his shoulder and tucked a box of slides under his arm. "I am never going to do it again, no matter how hot professor Jacobs is."

"You want help with these?"

"Sure. Let's walk and talk. What are you doing here anyway, I didn't peg you as someone who needed a lecture in art."

"Oh I don't know," Lindsay smiled and took the box of slides from Justin's hands. "How often do you get to attend a talk by one of the most influential young artists of our time."

"Don't believe everything you read. It's mostly ostentatious bullshit designed by people that like licking my ass. Literally."

Lindsay smiled. "Well, you haven't changed."

"Some say I've gotten worse."

"You seem just fine to me."

They walked through the hallway side-by-side, weaving their way through the thinning crowds.

"So, how is everyone?"

"Great, Gus is really showing interest in art," she said, "and J.R is just loving her new school."

"Mel opened her own specialised practice and Michael and Ben are great." They reached Justin's car and he popped the trunk. "But somehow I'm sure it's not them you mean is it? Or Debbie, or Carl, or Hunter, or Emmet, or Ted for that matter."

"So how is he?" Justin asked coyly; he hadn't seen Brian for almost four and a half years. "He okay?"

"He's good. Fucking like there's no tomorrow."

"No change there then?"

"You're one to talk. Word gets around the art world and word has it that you're the most promiscuous artist in New York – and that's quite a crown."

"I learnt from the best. I never promise anything, I never expect anything, I never lose anything." Justin gave her a smile. "If he taught me one thing he taught me that."

"I don't think that was meant to be the lesson, Justin."

"Then what was it?" Justin asked casually. "Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?"

"Something like that."

"Y'know, you still haven't answered by original question."

"Which one?"

"I asked what you were doing here."

"I was hoping I could butter you up with a little dinner first."

"That just depends," Justin asked, "does it have anything to do with Brian."

"Nothing at all."

"Then come to my studio and I'll get changed."

Brian pulled the twinkie through the door to the loft and slammed it heavily shut. It was early, barely past seven and it was still light, but his search in Woodies had been even easier than he had expected. He was far too young for Brian and they both knew it, but as he yanked down twinkie's jeans and pushed him over the back of the couch age really didn't matter. This was no more about age than it was about love; this was about fucking. Brian pressed his hand between the guys shoulder blades and forced him further over the couch, then with one swift rip of a packet and an experted slip of the condom into his dick he started to do what they had both come here for.

"Nice place." Twinky looked around, his vision jerking from the hard fucking. "Are those original Italian fixtures?"

"Y'know if I wanted to talk I'd have stayed at Woodies." He pulled the nameless twink back towards him as they fucked. "I wanted a fuck, not a cosy chat."

"Maybe next time we could-"

"No next times, once I come you'll be going."

"You never fuck more than once?"

"Only on very special occasions."

"Wha-"

Brian pulled him closer, putting his hand over his mouth. "Why do I always pick the ones the want to be sociable, can't you just be a fucking pervert like the rest of us?"

"I thought we came out to have dinner, not for you could ogle the help."

Justin smiled, catching the eye of a waiter as he passed carrying the bread rolls. "I was just admiring his buns."

"Well you can admire his buns later, but first we have business to discuss."

"Business?"

"Yeah, the gallery sent me here to scout you."

"Scout me?"

"They want you to agree to an exhibit," Lindsay explained. "Two months, fifty pieces. It would be really good for your career."

Justin almost spat out his water, just swallowing it in time for the surprise to hit. "wow."

"We would also like to commission you to do a few pieces exclusively for the exhibit. Of course we would put you up for the duration and pay you very handsomely for the pleasure of having you in Toronto. We were thinking about June, but any time is good for us if you would agree to do it."

Justin smiled. "And that's your sales pitch?"

"Yeah." The blonde leaned over the table. "Is it not good?"

"Linds, I would do anything for you, hell I'd even do it for free but since the offer is on the table I say we drink to it and order some ridiculously expensive champagne on your gallery to celebrate ."

"Just one more thing." Lindsay put her hand over Justin's. "Gus will be ten next Saturday."

"I know, I've been working on a present for him from a picture I took last summer. I think he'll really like it."

"You know what he would like more?" Lindsay didn't wait for Justin to answer. "To see you, to draw with you, to play with you."

"And we will. You can tell him I'll see him loads when the exhibit starts." Justin beamed. "God, this will be my first exhibit outside of New York."

"How about you come to his birthday party?" Lindsay suggested. "He'd love to see you."

"Will Brian be there?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll pass."

"Y'know for two people who never got married you sure do a great job of pretending to be divorced." She sighed. "Anyone would think you hated him."

"I don't hate him." Justin lowered his eyes to the water-glass and ran his ringers around the rim. "I love him."

"Then come." Lindsay tightened her grip on his wrist. "You two parted on good terms, what reason would you possibly have not to see each other?"

"I just gave you one."

Justin pulled his hand away from Lindsay and picked up a menu.

"That should be all the more reason."

"The steak looks good."

TBC...

r&r - always appreciated