He sighed, shrugging out of his suit jacket and throwing it on one of the barstools before heading to the fridge.  His hand closed on the bottled water briefly before changing course, picking up a beer instead.  The refreshing liquid slid easily down his throat. Brian drained half the bottle before heading towards the bedroom, intent on shedding his workday armour and getting into his jeans.  Then maybe he’d find something to combat the headache he felt brewing behind his temples.  And then, if he was lucky, he’d be able to work his usual genius and come up with a suitable slogan for Harrington before his meeting with Vance in the morning. 

“Hey.” 

Brian spun at the sound of the voice, nearly tripping on the bedroom steps as he glanced at his watch.  “Hey.  What the fuck are you doing home?” 

“Nice to see you too,“ Justin smiled, stretching languidly on the sofa.  “Class let out early.  Professor got the flu.” 

Brian changed direction, heading toward the living room.  Finding something to work on his headache hadn’t been that difficult after all.  And having Justin undress him was definitely more enticing than doing it himself.  He stopped short when he saw what Justin was doing.  Again. 

“Fuck, Justin.  Turn it off.” 

“Geez Brian, don’t have a stroke.  It’s not like I’m watching Debbie Does Dallas.” 

Brian snorted, rolling his eyes at the scantily clad dancers cavorting on his big screen TV.  “Turn it off.  Now.” 

“Brian, it’s like, the best movie ever!  I can’t believe Chicago won all those fucking Oscars.  Moulin Rouge sooo should have won last year.” 

“As you’ve asserted every time you watch the damn thing, which is more times than I’m willing to count.” Brian closed the distance between them, leaning down behind the couch to drape his arms over Justin’s body.  “Now… turn it off and get naked.” 

Eyes glinting, Justin reached behind him and grabbed Brian’s tie, pulling the older man forward.  “Why don’t you watch it with me?” 

“I have watched it with you.”  Which, he had to admit, wasn’t entirely accurate.  He’d seen the whole movie, yes.  But only in dribs and drabs.  Twenty minutes here, half an hour there.  Christ, that was about all he could handle. 

“Please, Brian?  I know you think Ewan McGregor is hot.” 

“I’d do him.  But you’re the one that’s here.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Justin leaned up, brushing his lips lightly against his lover’s.  Brian felt himself wavering.  “It’s almost over…” 

“Justin--” 

“It’d make me happy.” 

“And I care about that because…?” 

Justin merely grinned, and Brian was man enough to admit that Justin’s grin was often the death of him.  He groaned, allowing himself to be dragged around to the front of the sofa where he dropped to the cushion with an exaggerated sigh.  Justin ignored the theatrics and merely rearranged himself on the sofa so that he was snuggling against Brian’s body.  Brian found his arm wrapping around Justin seemingly of its own accord.  He shook his head as Justin made himself comfortable before glancing at the screen. 

The kid didn’t lie. The film was almost over.  Satine was just kicking Christian’s ass to the curb.  She didn’t deserve him, anyway. 

“She’s such a bitch,” Brian remarked, knowing full well that Justin usually liked to watch his favourite movie in silence.  And though he’d agreed to watch, he most certainly hadn’t agreed to keep his commentary to himself.  Brian grinned. This will teach the little fucker. 

He looked down at Justin’s frowning face.  “What?” 

Justin sighed.  “She’s not a bitch, Brian.  She loves Christian.” 

“Uh huh.  Funny way of showing it.” 

“She’s spent her whole life living a lie,” Justin explained patiently.  “Always having to be what other people expected her to be.  It’s only with Christian that she can be her true self.  That’s not too hard to buy, is it?  I mean, there are people who are like that.  They have this persona that they wear in public, and it‘s only with the person they love that they can be themselves.” 

“Don‘t know what you‘re talking about.” 

“In fact, I’d go so far to say that before she meant Christian, she didn’t believe in love. She believed in fucking.” 

“Whatever.” 

“She probably thought it was honest, it was efficient--” 

“Justin, shut the fuck up and watch the movie.” 

Choosing to ignore the impudent smile that stole over Justin’s face, Brian let his hand absently trace patterns on Justin’s arm as the film continued to play out.  He tried to concentrate as Christian went to the Moulin Rouge to find Satine and got attacked for his impertinence.  He was apparently dragged home and tended to by his bohemian friends.  Despite his best efforts, Brian found his thoughts drifting from the plot to… well, the usual. 

“You know, I’d still fuck him.” 

“Brian!” 

“I mean it.  Bruised, dirty.  He’s still pretty hot.  Toulouse should fuck him.” 

Justin sighed.  “Toulouse is not gay.  For that matter, neither is Christian.” 

“I don’t know.  The way Toulouse looks at him…” 

“Jesus, Brian!  Toulouse is just a friend.  Are you even listening to the dialogue?” 

“Now that you mention it…” 

Justin turned his attention from the TV screen to his lover.  “Well, start!  Toulouse can just see how much Satine loves Christian.  He knows that they’re meant to be together.  And he’s just trying to get Christian to understand that even though Satine acted like a shit, it was just a charade.” 

Brian shrugged.  “Toulouse should keep his mouth shut and stop meddling in other people’s business.” 

“Right.  ‘Cause that’s something you’re so well-versed in,” Justin muttered as he turned back to the television. 

Brian lightly cuffed the back of Justin’s head. 

“Owwww!” 

“Drama princess.” 

“Anyway, we all need a friend that’ll look out for us and be loyal and who wants us to be happy.  AND who’ll point out to us the reasons our boyfriend is being a shit and remind us how much he really loves us, so that we don’t accidentally strangle him in his sleep.” 

Brian laughed.  “Boyfriend?  Unless there’s a ’Crying Game’ twist in this movie that I’ve missed, Justin, Satine is a chick.” 

Justin snorted.  “Yeah, I know.” 

Brian decided to let that one pass.  After all, he was sometimes -- often -- a shit.  Can’t argue the truth.&nbssp;

Brian had determined to remain quiet for the rest of the movie.  He was surprised, then, when Justin broke the silence during the overwrought and ridiculous production number near the end. 

“You know, I think Nini tried to break up Christian and Satine because she wanted Christian for herself.” 

“Who the fuck is Nini?” 

Justin grunted in frustration.  “The woman who told the Duke that Satine was seeing Christian.  Nini Legs-in-the-Air.” 

“Legs in the Air?” Brian snorted.  “Sounds like we have a new nickname for you, Sunshine.” 

“I’m serious, Brian.  Granted, it’s not like she’s Satine’s best friend or anything, but I think she was definitely jealous.  Satine is everything she’s not.  Gorgeous, successful, gets all the hot guys.  Jealousy can make you do weird things.” 

Brian frowned.  “Mikey is not jealous, Justin.” 

Justin looked up at him innocently.  “Who said anything about Michael?” 

“Twat.  Watch the movie.” 

Justin giggled.  “Yes, Brian.” 

As the credits rolled fifteen minutes later, Justin sighed and let his head loll against Brian‘s chest.  “I love that movie.” 

“Really?  I never would have guessed.” 

Twisting in Brian’s arms until he was straddling his lap, Justin smiled.  “Would you ‘come back to me and forgive everything’, Brian?” 

Brian felt his jaw clenching.  He forcibly made himself relax as he wrapped his arms around Justin’s body possessively.  “I already have,” he said quietly. 

Justin’s lip trembled slightly as he ducked his head, burying his face in the soft fabric of Brian’s shirt.  Brian’s hands smoothed along Justin’s back, soothing the quivering body as best he could.  He firmly believed that the past was the past, especially where Justin was concerned.  He had put Justin’s affair in the past, where it belonged.  He only wished Justin would do the same. 

When the boy finally raised his head, his eyes were clear. 

“I love you, Brian.” 

“Justin--” 

“I just want you to know it.  That no matter what happens, I love you.  No matter what life throws in our path, I love you.  I’ll always love you.” 

Brian pulled Justin forward, taking his lips in a gentle kiss.  His headache was gone.  And suddenly, the Harrington account didn’t seem all that important, in the grand scheme of things.   He let his lips trail along Justin’s cheekbone, then nuzzled at his neck.  “Come what may, Justin,” he murmured.  “Come what may.”