warning signs

Justin doesn't notice at first. He never thought that Brian's persistent age paranoia would dissipate but he certainly expected to recognize the signs of an oncoming attack. He would've thought that after all these years he'd grown quicker at noticing the subtle changes in Brian's mood and pick up on the 500 nuances there were to his glances, but the thing is, the number of nuances seem to increase exponentially. When Brian started to weigh his steps differently and the timbre in his tone shifted ever so slightly Justin knew something was up; he just hadn't know what.

He'd known Brian's mood had shifted a few weeks ago but he hadn't been able to tell what had triggered it. He tries to construct a memory for himself, because he needs a point of reference. He imagines that it must've been one of the many official functions they attended in the spring. It could have been one of the gallery shows for Lindsay or himself. Or perhaps the Easter office shindig Brian had reluctantly held that Gus had insisted on going to – probably sensing there'd be free liquor and no one to stop him from downing it. Justin can set the scene in his mind: Gus being asked what he would do with his life now that graduation was approaching by some gray haired woman with a fine lined face. Her neck laden with plastic pearls, and lips smeared with a purplish lipstick, mouth wide agape revealing the too white teeth in a broad smile at the youth before her.

So he watches Brian watching him as the countdown begins from the moment the envelope is opened. Because that's the strange thing and what seems to be different this time around. Brian's eyes do linger in the mirror, fingers threading through his hair, but they do so absently and the intense gaze usually reserved for detecting wrinkles looks at Justin's reflection.

Another change is the fucking, like every time one of Brian's attacks are forthcoming the amount of sex increases – almost doubles. But this time instead of fervent violent fucks that resemble miniature competitions that Brian is having with himself it's slow and steady. Brian's hands press onto Justin's back, rests on his hip and his eyes never leave Justin's face.

But it's not just in bed that his movements are different. All the previous age freak-outs have been preceded by overly sarcastic outbursts and provocation. Brian's movements would be all sharp edges and jerks, as if he was struggling to remove himself from his skin; or change it somehow, by staying in the moment resisting the ticking of the clock. But this time Brian doesn't snap at him or anyone else. He moves as languidly as ever, the only difference being that this time around he seems to casually rest a hand on Justin's thigh more frequently And Justin wonders how on earth Brian had become this unpredictable.

Justin doesn't know what to make of all this but he guesses the ball will drop, and his guess is that it will do so when he unveils Gus's graduation present. Justin knows that Brian knows he's been painting something as a gift – after all that is what he does – but Brian doesn't know what the painting is, because as with all the pieces that Justin gives away he refuses to show them to Brian more than 48 hours prior to giving it away.

So when he leaves the door to his studio open for the first time in a while he fully expects Brian to saunter in. And he does. Justin stands in front of the finished piece and Brian stands next to him, looking at the curves and the blending of the colors. But the image on the canvas doesn't seem to bother him in the least. He looks at the portrait of his younger self holding his baby in arms and the only reaction he emits is a drawn out “brilliant” and a crooked smile and Justin thinks that he's never been so confused.

When the day of graduation does roll around Brian hasn't had a meltdown yet and Justin wonders if maybe he was imagining things and that perhaps he's the one with the tumor now. But then the clock ticks away and Brian's hand is on his back as if he were attempting to stop Justin from falling down at any second and he knows that he hasn't been imagining anything. He does however start to wonder if he was right about why Brian has been acting so strangely.

He doesn't get any closer to finding out what's going on until the end of the reception, when the fancy guests have left and no one but the Liberty family occupies the Peterson-Marcus house, Debbie trying to feed everyone with just one more tiny slice of cake and Lindsey pretending to do the dishes while she in reality is adding salty tears to the sink and wrinkling her hands from rinsing the plates much longer than necessary.

Justin stands with Gus when he feels Brian sneaking up behind him, placing his hand in the small of Justin's back, just resting against the fabric of his jacket, not trying to move down or push Justin anywhere. Justin's distracted by Brian's gesture – he still hasn't figured out what's wrong – and has to ask Gus to repeat his question. And when Gus's question about Justin's graduation filter into his consciousness and he notices Brian's face tense up ever so slightly he realizes that it was never about age. There was a time when he'd scold Brian for assuming rather than asking but he knows that's not how things work with him. Justin reaches behind his back and threads his fingers through Brian's, bringing his hand to his side, firmly holding it. He flashes Brian a smile as he gives Gus the only answer he has,

“I missed it. But it's what comes after that counts.”