Author’s note: This is the second part of ‘Astonishingly Romantic’, from Justin’s POV. It’s a continuation of the final scene in episode 218.

What am I doing?

I’m standing on the fucking street outside his fucking apartment in the middle of the fucking night, that’s what I’m doing. More importantly, why?

I don’t have a fucking clue. I must be out of my mind.

I’m staring up at the window, trying to decide if it’s too late to knock on his door.

There’s a light on and I can see movement inside. Maybe he’s not alone.

It was a stupid fucking idea to come here. I should go home and come back tomorrow. Or never.

I turn to walk away but I stop after only a few steps. Do I really want to go home? Brian might not be there. Or he might be there with someone, like the other night when I got home from Vermont. Which is worse?

Brian. Fuck. The last time I tried to talk to him was yesterday, when he got home from work. I’d decided that, if I wanted him to be more romantic, I should do something about it. So I did. I bought a bunch of gourmet stuff and arranged it on the floor, just like Ethan had done. I envisioned us sitting there munching on pate and brie, drinking wine and talking. Really talking, about stuff that was important to us. After the wine was gone, we’d make love, right there on the floor. I’d tell Brian that I loved him and he’d tell me…

Shit. What universe do I think I’m living in? Brian would never do something just because I asked him to or because it was important to me. He told me I could go to Babylon with him or I could stay home alone.

I stayed home.

I was asleep when Brian got home. I guess he was alone, or he made the guy be quiet so they wouldn’t wake me up. I left before he got up this morning and I went to Daphne’s after school. After what I’d told her, the other day, about not being some fucking housewife, I couldn’t just sit at the loft and wait for him to come home late again. Daph offered to let me spend the night but I left. I had no intention of coming over here - I was on my way home.

Bullshit. I knew exactly where I was going when I left Daphne’s.

It’s not like I hadn’t been invited. When I ‘sold’ my drawing to him for a song, he told me to come over later and collect.

Well, it’s later, so, here I am.

Yes, there definitely *is* movement in there and I’m fucking freezing out here. I take a deep breath and walk into the building.

I pause several times on the stairs, but I don’t turn back. If he doesn’t want to see me, he’s going to have to *tell* me to go - something that I’m hoping he won’t do.

I stand outside his door, trying to think of a good reason to leave. But I don’t want to; I want to see him. Talk to him. He seems to understand what I’m feeling without me even saying anything.

I can hear him playing inside. It’s beautiful, as usual. Flawless.

I knock, timidly at first. There’s no answer and, once again, I consider leaving. Wait a minute, I tell myself, he probably can’t hear me because of the music. I knock again, louder this time. I pound my fist on the door twice before I hear the locks being unlocked.

The door swings open and he’s standing there. He looks surprised to see me. "Sorry," I say. He says he thought I was one of his neighbors, complaining about the noise. I make some lame comment about them being lucky. He says I should tell them that.

I follow him into the room and drop my coat. He’s standing right in front of me and we kinda stare at each other for a few seconds. I think I should give him some kind of explanation for being here. I tell him I’m here to collect my song. He remains still for another second and then he realizes what I’m talking about, and he smiles. It’s the first time I’ve seen him really smile. It lights up his entire face. That’s when I understand why I came all the way over here so late.

He walks over to the bed and stands on it, as if it was a stage. He asks if I want to hear something technically astonishing. I sit down, on the couch I helped him bring here, and look up at him. "I want to hear something astonishingly romantic." He pauses for another few seconds, thinking. I imagine that he’s trying to decide on the perfect song to play for me. Slowly, he tucks the violin under his chin and begins playing.

Of course, I have no idea what the song is. I haven’t known the name of anything he’s ever played; even when he tells me, I can’t remember it five minutes later. He could be playing ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ and it would sound amazing.

As I sit here and listen, I can’t help thinking about Brian. Beautiful, sexy, infuriating, self-involved asshole that he is. Why does he keep me around when it’s obvious that I’m not important to him any more? For a while, I thought we were on the right track. We proceeded from the trauma of ‘that’ night to the night we made love after Gus’ birthday party. We danced outside Woody’s on the night of the pride parade and he bought me that computer so I could continue drawing despite my gimp hand. We never talked about the future or how we felt about each other, but it wasn’t important, because I thought I knew where we were going.

Lately, though, I don’t think I know Brian any more. I wish I could remember when his attitude changed. What had I done to make him act so callous toward me? Maybe it wasn’t anything that I did. Maybe he’s decided that I’m not the one he wants after all. Maybe he’s pissed because I don’t want to do the threesomes and foursomes that we used to do. I don’t want to change everything about him; I just want him to stay home once in a while and spend time alone with me. Sometimes I think he’s afraid of me; maybe it’s not me he’s afraid of, exactly, but what I represent. I’ve turned into a trap that he’s determined not to get caught in.

There’s just one small problem with my present situation: I love Brian. Madly, passionately, inexplicably. I’ve loved him since the first night I saw him and I truly believe that he loves me too, despite the fact that he takes great pains to show me how little regard he has for love.

So I’m sitting here in this dingy little apartment listening to this incredibly beautiful song being played by a guy I barely know, when all I want is to be at home in bed with Brian. I want, so desperately, to feel like I belong somewhere, to someone. I want to go to sleep and wake up in the same man’s arms. I want to talk about nothing for hours. I want to spend an entire day in bed, not thinking about work or school, and not making plans to go out later on and find a cute anonymous guy to bring back home to fuck. I want someone to love me just because I’m me.

At that moment, I realize why I’m here - the *real* reason - and I know what I want to do next. It’s wrong, I know, but I don’t care. Brian says my first responsibility is to myself, that I’m the only person I need to satisfy. Well, I’m not happy and I’m not satisfied, but I’m gonna be before I leave this apartment.

I stand up and walk to the bed. I take a step up and stop right in front of Ethan. His eyes are closed, as they often are when he’s playing. My face is about a foot away from his; he must sense that I’m there because he opens his eyes. He continues playing as he watches me intently. I stare at him hard, like I’m trying to memorize everything about his face.

Ethan stops playing and lowers the violin. I move forward slowly. He’s still watching me - does he not know what I’m about to do?

I touch my mouth to his, very softly and very briefly. I pull back and he drops the bow so he can put his right hand on the back of my head and pull me toward him. Our lips touch again and there’s nothing quick or gentle about it. His tongue is in my mouth and then my tongue is in his. I feel like I can’t breathe and my fingers and toes are tingling.

Ethan breaks the kiss long enough to bend over and lay his violin down. When he faces me again, he unzips my sweatshirt, very slowly, and he puts his hands on my chest, palms down. They move slowly up my neck to caress the back of my head; he pulls me to him again. I’m quickly losing myself in his mouth and his hands and I don't know how much longer my legs will hold me up.

We’re turning slightly as Ethan lowers himself onto the bed and pulls me after him. He moves his mouth across my face and down to my neck. Pulling my shirt away, he nuzzles my shoulder. I sit up and shrug out of my shirt; Ethan removes his. We strip our pants off quickly and stretch out together on the bed. As we continue kissing, he moves his hands over my body.

After a few minutes, Ethan breaks the kiss and moves his mouth to my ear. He tells me that we can stop, but I have to tell him now. I guess he’s worried that I’ll think he forced me to cheat on my boyfriend. I’m not thinking about Brian right now. I tell him I want him to fuck me and he goes to the bathroom to get condoms.

When he returns from the bathroom, he turns almost all the lights off and crawls back in beside me. I turn over on my stomach and he tells me wants to be able to see my face while we’re making love. He kisses me yet again. I close my eyes and surrender myself to him.

Afterwards, we lay together, trying to catch our breath. Neither of us says anything. His face is close to mine; I open my eyes and look at him. He’s crying, silently, and smiling. Even though it looks weird, I understand exactly how he’s feeling. A year ago, I would have had the same reaction, but not any more. I’ve had to learn how to hide my feelings where Brian is concerned and I guess that has affected other parts of my life too.

Damn you, Brian, I thought. I can’t escape you, not even when I’m in someone else’s bed. As Ethan snuggles against my shoulder, I sigh softly. A few minutes later, his breathing becomes regular and I realize that he’s asleep.

So, I’m lying here, thinking about what Brian would say if I knew where I was and what I was doing. He wouldn’t say anything because he doesn’t care any more. He didn’t care enough to buy me a real birthday present. He didn’t care enough to come to Vermont when he got home from his business trip. I’ve become his live-in whore, available any time he wants to fuck, but not worthy of him spending any quality time with. Well, I think with a smile, he’ll have to find someone else to fuck tonight.

Which he will, of course. He probably won’t even notice that I’m not there.

I still love him. Goddammit. I’d still do anything he asked me to do, without even thinking about it. And I still believe that he loves me.

If that’s true, it leads me back to the question I asked myself while I was standing out on the street, trying to decide whether or not to come up here.

Why am I here?

Ethan is great guy: he’s sweet and smart and very sexy. He has that same arrogant exterior that Brian has. I think he’s trying to hide behind the mask he shows to the outside world, also like Brian. Unlike Brian, he doesn’t have a problem with romance; he can say and do those little things that mean so much to me. He told me about an old boyfriend, who treated him just like Brian treats me. He’s been hurt in the past, just like he thinks I’m going to be hurt in the future. He was trying to warn me, wasn’t he?

My thoughts are starting to stray into areas that I won’t allow them to visit. I will *not* think about the time when Brian and I are not together. Things aren’t very good right now, but it’ll be better. I know it will be.

For now, I’m enjoying spending time with Ethan. He understands about Brian and me; he wouldn’t dare try to break us up. He’s going to have to understand that he’s someone I can go to when I need to get away. Besides, I’m not cheating. Not really. Brian says it isn’t lying when they make you lie. Well, it’s not cheating if he makes me cheat.

As I slip into unconsciousness, my last thought is of a beautiful man who loves me very much.