Justin wasn't too surprised to see Brian come into the diner in the middle of the day. It was only 2:30 p.m. and it was possible that Brian had gotten caught up at work and hadn't had lunch yet.

Still, it was a little awkward with only two other tables to distract Justin from the fact that his ex-lover was sitting alone at the counter, gorgeous and tempting, eating his usual sandwich with measured bites that were somehow sensual. And was he licking his fingers on purpose? Justin watched Brian press the pad of his thumb against his lips, swiping the mustard off with a twirling flick of his tongue.

"So, Brian, had any interesting accounts come your way lately?" Justin asked, as surprised as Brian that he had caved and started a conversation.

Brian smiled and popped a fry into his mouth. "Well, it depends on what you consider to be interesting."

"Okay, have there been any that you thought were interesting?"

"Nah. They've all been pretty fucking boring." Brian looked thoughtful for a moment. "Although, there was that one account for Charlie Hung's Penile Implantation Clinic based out of New York." Brian made a gesture with hands to indicate a ad board. "Black and white, just focusing on the thighs and torso of a well-toned athlete."

Brian smiled predatorily and Justin felt the familiar stirring of his cock. God, he was always so fucking easy when it came to Brian.

Brian went on, "Wearing just a jock strap. In profile, of course, to accentuate his cock. 'Get Hung' in bold red across the top. Contact information in fine print at the bottom."

"You're kidding." Justin shook his head half laughing. "There's no way. You're full of shit."

Brian grinned, ate another fry, and said nothing.

They lapsed into silence and Justin watched listlessly as Brian finished off his sandwich. Ethan would be showing up soon and he really shouldn't be standing here making small talk with Brian when he arrived.

"Going to Babylon tonight?" Justin asked.

Brian shrugged.

"Isn't it Ass of the Gods night or something?"

"So I heard. Why?" Brian seemed genuinely confused for a moment before sliding into a mocking tone. "Don't you have special plans? What? No roses and champagne with the boyfriend?"

Justin blinked. Brian remembered that today was his birthday. Christ--it'd been a year since the hustler incident. A year since he'd met Ethan. And, yeah, they did have special plans.

"Um, yeah. My mom's having us for dinner, and then Ethan's taking me to the symphony."

Brian nodded, a careful expression on his face. "I see."

Justin leaned on the counter and confessed, "I don't really want to go to the symphony."

"Oh?" Brian ate another fry, looking vaguely interested.

"Yeah. I like it when I go alone, or with Linds and Mel, but with Ethan it's like--" Justin broke off trying to think of a good example. "Well, it'd be like attending a business meeting with you, you know? You'd be all intense and into it, and I'd be not nearly interested enough."

Brian's eyebrows quirked in a good approximation of sympathy. "Sharing in the passions of your husband, having to pretend that they're your own--" he sighed deeply "--lying to keep the peace. It sounds...idyllic. Or fucked up." He shrugged again. "But what the fuck do I know, right? I know fuck-all about romance."

Justin winced. There were some things that he'd always wished he could take back and that was one of them. "Well, there was this one time, when you showed up at my prom? That was...how'd you put it? Ridiculously romantic."

Brian's face softened and he stood up, placing his napkin beside the empty plate. "Well, I'm late. I've got to go."

Justin shoved down his disappointment. "I'll get your ticket."

Brian shook his head, and said, "Keep the change," throwing a twenty on the counter.

Justin didn't bother protesting the size of the tip and he bit down on the inside of his lip as Brian walked out. He missed him. God, he fucking missed him. He mused on that for awhile, sifting through explanations like sand until he came to one undeniable conclusion. Despite it all, he was still in love with Brian Kinney.

Justin looked at the clock. Ethan was late picking him up. And one more truth dropped into place: he loved Brian Kinney to a depth that he'd never love Ethan, or maybe anyone. Ever.

Frustrated and angry with himself for indulging in those thoughts, Justin began to clear away Brian's plate. He nearly knocked the hidden item off the counter, not knowing it was there. Beneath his napkin, Brian had slipped a small white box with Justin's name on it in black marker.

Inside, curled like a small snake, lay Brian's shell bracelet. Justin's throat tightened and tears came to his eyes when he read the note tucked under it.

For luck. Happy Birthday. B.

Justin struggled with his emotions for a moment then tied the bracelet on his left wrist. He'd finally gotten it clasped and folded the note up into a tiny slip to put into his wallet when the door chimed.

Ethan walked in, all smiles and windblown hair, weighted down with a bouquet of flowers.

"For my muse," Ethan intoned solemnly, passing the bouquet over the counter. "Happy birthday."

"You're a cheeseball."

Ethan grinned and shrugged.