In the future, Justin thinks, things will be different.

Brian will mellow. He'll turn quieter with age, less inclined to cat about and drink and smoke and trick and sniff controlled substances. He'll stay home when he's tired instead of going out just to prove things. Babylon won't be his Mecca and tricks will forget they once worshipped at the altar of Kinney, and Justin knows that Brian won't really care. Brian will watch more tv instead of going dancing and his body will thank him in the morning.

Brian will fuck him face-to-face more often, running a hand over Justin's chest and burying his face in Justin's shoulder, nipping softly and marking a spot. He'll whisper things late at night while they watch each other in the dark. He'll be more slow and methodical, not concerned about proving his mettle or some other gay male fucked-up bullshit, and Justin knows he'll reap the benefits of it. The sex will be different, most likely. Not worse or better, just changed. Justin knows one day there won't be a danger of contracting unwanted diseases and no need for barriers and it won't be a discussion or a threat. They'll visit the clinic and read the results and. That will be that.

Brian will gray at the temples and wear distinguished glasses with no frames and when he doesn't shave, he'll be more handsome than Justin can imagine him being. He'll come home and drink a scotch rocks to unwind instead of a beer. He'll eat more ice cream and less carb-free bread until his doctor shows him his dangerous cholesterol levels and Justin has to throw out the Cherry Garcia. Brian will tell Debbie to make them vegetarian sauce for the spaghetti because of the fucking cholesterol in her meat sauce and Debbie will kiss his cheek and wink at Justin behind Brian's back.

Gus will bring his girlfriend to the loft. He will introduce Brian as his dad and Justin as his dad's partner and Brian will be inordinately proud. Justin will watch him put his tongue in his cheek. “They're gay,” Gus will say, and his girlfriend will be small and dark-haired and pretty and she will shrug and go, “Cool,” and Justin will like her. Brian will too, but he'll never tell Gus, but Gus will know anyway because Brian is as transparent as glass to anyone who looks. They'll leave and Brian will look at Justin and Justin will grin at him. “Your biggest nightmare,” Justin will say, “a straight kid.” And Brian will growl and fuck him on the floor and Justin will point out his new gray chest hairs.

Brian will make noises about investments and individual retirement accounts and joint property and Justin will know what he's referring to without Brian having to say it, so they'll visit Brian's tax guy. Brian will shove the paperwork over to Justin without looking at him and Justin will sign it. Brian will glance at him then over the rim of his glasses and Justin will smirk back. Brian will snort and they'll have carried on an entire conversation without words.

Brian will say I love you a thousand times without ever speaking the words and Justin won't take any of it for granted. He will kiss Justin goodbye in the mornings instead of just scoffing at Justin's upturned face. He won't substitute smack on the ass for a kiss. He'll call and ask what Justin wants him to pick up for dinner and make a noise of disgust when Justin reminds him they had take-out the night before. They should probably have something healthy tonight. He'll hang up but then call back and agree and Justin will accept the apology along with the I love you, neither of them spoken aloud.

Things will be different, Justin thinks, and it will be unnoticed from day to day, from now till then. Slow, progressive changes that Brian won't make intentionally and would never admit to if he did, but changes that Justin will wake up one day and notice and won't bother pointing out.

The future's not that far away, if Justin really thinks about it, and he turns his head on the pillow to watch the man sleeping next to him.

Not so far away.

~End