Justin took a long drag from his cigarette while lounging on the sofa. He was trying to forget, but the harder he tried, the more he remembered everything: the way Brian always tangled his fingers in Justin's hair whenever they fucked, the smirk Brian shot his way whenever he was impressed with something Justin said, and the taste of Brian's skin on his tongue.

He stubbed out the butt, resigning himself to the fact (with a giant push from Daphne) that he needed to fucking do something, to sneak his way back onto Brian's radar and hope he takes notice.