Justin's at home, using his left hand to cradle his right. Someone's been reading the bitching on the forum. Brian walks in. Justin asks what happened to Brian last night. Brian tells Justin not to ask, but Justin reminds Brian that they have an arrangement. Brian says his balls should have turned to pumpkins for being late, but promises that Justin didn't miss anything. Brian asks how the party went. Justin said it was incredibly tedious and that he left early. So early, in fact, that he quit. Brian takes all of his clothes off like a good man should. Yay! Brian gets into bed like he should as Justin babbles about something I'm not listening to -- something about goals and art and stuff. Justin asks if he can have that five thousand dollars Brian was offering. If he's gonna be a whore, he'd rather be Brian's whore. Justin crawls into bed with Brian and says they'll have to discuss the terms of the loan -- interest rates and whatnot. He says they should have something in writing. Brian pushes Justin down and asks what made him change his mind. Justin says a man needs to know when to ask for help. Justin turns Brian over and kisses him. Brian pulls down Justin's pants. Justin, get a tan, my friend. That ass is crazy white. Justin grabs the condom from Brian's hand and stares at him. They share a look. Justin unwraps the condom, puts it on himself, and starts to roll Brian over. Brian stops rolling like, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The music kicks in loud as Justin gives Brian a soothing kiss, then finishes rolling him over to fuck his brains out. Now I've seen an elephant fly. Thank you for no blue lights, for decent music, for no shitty dialogue -- just good naked thrusting. Best scene of this season. Rock.
Next week, Justin and Michael get a little too close as Lindsay and Melanie deal with scary power tools. Emmett crashes Pickle's funeral service. Brian is jealous of Mikey and Justin's time together. Now this is sounding like the Queer as Folk I'm used to. Thank God. I'll still miss you forever, Pickle, but now I'm less likely to have to see your wrinkled balls swinging over Emmett's legs. And that's adding five years to my life, I know.