Justin thinks years haven’t been kind on his face, all he sees is a cobweb but every time Brian touches those lines, all he sees is every single time Justin smiled for him, and him only
It’s dangerous and he knows it, but as he holds a tired Justin in his arms and soothingly whispers ‘my sweet boy’ to him, he can only hope the light of day will erase the memory of his tenderness
It’s when Justin clings to him, head on his chest, soft breath in the crook of his neck that Brian understands what freedom is: not being afraid of being loved anymore.