"Then let me tell you what I think you want. You want me to almost never talk to you about our relationship, except for short and basically cryptic discussions when we're drunk or stoned or lying in bed after sex. You want me to put my career as an artist in front of everything else, even if I have to leave for days or weeks at a time. If and when I'm gone, you want me to somehow, without words, let you know every day that I'm thinking about you. You want me to do exactly what I want with my life, although it makes you fucking uncomfortable to think part of that involves wanting to be with you. You want to be sentimental and sweet in front of other people on major holidays, and fuck me into the mattress when we're alone. And once in a while you want to go out and get drunk and high and have meaningless hot sex with strangers and then come home and shower and sleep with me. And you want me to not expect you to say you love me unless there's a bomb involved."

I got up and walked over and stood right in front of him. I put my hands on his shoulders and tipped my head back so I could look him right in the eye. "How'd I do?"

He almost smiled. "Not bad." He put his hands on top of mine on his shoulders. I twined my fingers with his. Then he really did smile.

I licked my lips. He smirked. Asshole. "Fine, then tell me, what did I leave out, or what would you leave out?"

"We can skip the last thing. No more bombs. And not all major holidays. And you didn't mention you blowing me, which is non-negotiable."

"OK. I want some things too."

He raised his eyebrow. "This approach didn't work out so great last time."

I laughed. "No, it didn't. But I want some things anyway. I want to live here. I want to paint here. I want to stop feeling like you're going to chase me off for my own good every time I turn around. If I get into any more shows you have to be there for the openings. And I want a complete list of the major holidays you're going to be sweet and sentimental on, and the ones you aren't. I may be willing to compromise on Flag Day."

Brian was biting his lip. And then his tongue was kind of sticking out just a tiny bit. I'd never noticed him do that before. It was pretty adorable. It was Gus-like. It was very distracting.

He seemed to make up his mind about something, and brought his hands to the sides of my head. He worked his fingers into my hair and leaned down and kissed me. I licked just the tiniest bit at his lips, and he opened his mouth up and started sucking my tongue inside, and slid a hand around to the back of my neck, and the other down to my waist and pulled me into him hard. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him pull me in. He shifted his thigh in between my legs and then broke his mouth away from mine. I was almost panting.

"Are we done?" He was smiling down into my eyes.

"Ummm... with what?"

"The conversation."

"Did we decide anything?"

"Yeah, no Flag Day."