Chapter 18: Don't Ask My Neighbor

Lyrics

You're wondering if I care about ya/ Is there's some cause that I should doubt ya/ Oh I can see boy that you don't know me very well/ You're so unsure/ And you run here and there to ask my feelings/ Friends only guess, they can't really say/ Don't ask my neighbors/ Don't ask the friends I hang around/ Don't be afraid to come to me/ Don't ask my neighbors, come to me/ Don't be afraid of what ya see/ You'll find I love you, come to me

Written by Skip Scarborough Sung by the Emotions

• Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Justin

I can see the questions taking form in Brian's brain. Watching the way he takes in and processes information has always been one of my guilty pleasures. The way he seemingly stares off into space; the way his index finger or his thumb dances across his lip... Yeah, it's sexy as fuck! But it's also nerve-wracking when you're the focus of those thoughts.

I can feel each inhale and exhale, as the air exchanges itself within my lungs. I feel like I'm waiting for something, even if I don't exactly know what it is. Brian has that effect on me all the time though. I live in this constant state of anticipation... Or I did until I fucked it all up, trading uncertainty for predictability; decisive actions for the ambiguity of words; a difficult and more rewarding challenge for an easy, well-ordered existence.

I wonder if the excitement, and the constant state of arousal- sexual or mental- is something people in the easy relationships have. Or is it more like what I've experienced with Ethan? Is what Brian and I have more like what they look for when they want to step out of their monogamy-implied existence?

As if picking the thoughts right out of my mind, Brian asks me the question I've been asking myself a lot lately. "Why did you do it?"

"What, exactly?" I think I know, but Brian and I can't afford to have vague innuendos between us just now. It's part of what got us into this mess in the first place.

He seems to pick up on the need I have for full-disclosure, while sitting here in this restaurant waiting for our food. He sips at his Beam, before answering me. "I want to know what made you go to Michael and Lindsay in the first place."

"I thought we had gone over this."

"We did, but I want to hear it without all the anger, Justin. Please. It's important."

I swallow a small sip of my own cocktail, for a little liquid fortification. Talking to Brian is undoubtedly easy most of the time, but this... Well, this isn't. It's hard to explain my own stupidity, without sounding completely absurd. But I have to try, since this is probably the most important conversation I will ever have in my life.

It's the one that could really make or break us.

"Brian, I could use the fact that I'm young as a ready excuse, but I won't. Because a large part of me knew better than to ask them anything. But it was the small, still voice in my head that kept feeding my doubts about myself, since... Going to them was like a physical validation of that same voice telling me that I wasn't what you wanted, or needed; that I was nothing more than an unwanted bedwarmer, and an added responsibility that you grudgingly kept around out of guilt."

"Did I do anything to make you feel that way?"

He's remarkably calm about what I just said, and I want to ask him about it. But for now, I'm content to give him the answers he's looking for. I'm certain he'll do the same thing for me when it's my turn to play Q & A. "It wasn't you per se, Brian. Although I know you are far from perfect, the rest of the world doesn't. Now that's not your fault; it's just the way you are perceived, and that's on them. But in my case, it was okay for you to have your flaws, which were hidden. My flaws- my battered ego- couldn't remain a myth anymore, because everyone could see my gimp hand. Sometimes I would catch people staring at me with envy, pity, spite, or some combination of all three in their eyes. It's hard to be under that kind of scrutiny, when to everyone watching, I was The Twink who caught the Golden Stud."

"Why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"Because there were two things I know you always appreciated about me. Number one was the fact that I was a tenacious little fucker, who let nothing and no one get in my way when I wanted something. Secondly, I was as fearless and determined about living my life as you are your own. Hobbs changed all that for me."

"I still appreciate those things about you, Justin, even if you took a while to get those qualities back. But I still don't understand why Michael and Lindsay? They both have warped ways of viewing me through rose-colored lenses. Why not Ted, Emmett, or Vic? I already know why you wouldn't have gone to Debbie. She would have infantilized you, as much as Jennifer would have. But why not those three?"

I have to think about that for a minute, before rendering my answer. "Ted didn't see you as clearly as he does now. So at the time, he wouldn't have been able to help me through it. So I couldn't go to him with those feelings; same reasoning why I couldn't talk with Mel. I think that view has changed significantly since the incident, and he's- they are both- still learning. As for Em, he saw you as clearly as I did, but his concern was more for me and what I might do. In Vic's case, I know he loves us both and wants beyond anything, other than getting well, for you and I to defy all odds and just be together. I was worried that whatever he told me in those moments, would have been influenced by his need to see that particular result he wanted to happen.

"Michael and Lindsay weren't afraid to tell me- to confirm- what I was already thinking about myself, while cloaking it in concern and certain knowledge of what you could take and wouldn't take. To me, in that time and space, they knew you. Whereas, I wasn't who I was pre-Hobbs and couldn't stop drowning in my own thoughts long enough to remember Brian Kinney, the man not the myth."

"You said Emmett was afraid of what you might do. What were you planning to do, or thinking about planning to do?"

I don't want to answer him verbally, but I know he needs to hear it to understand how low I was just then. "Either end it all, or simply disappear." I see the horrified expression on his face, so I go on to explain. "You have to really understand what it was like, Brian. I was imprisoned in a body that wouldn't obey, no matter what my mind and will told it to do. I was trapped in a nightmare, never really remembering anything, but feeling the terror when I was awake, and yet still feeling all of its aftereffects. I felt as if I was of more use to everyone if I was just... not here anymore. Can you understand that?"

"To a degree, but still better than you might think." He's quiet and takes another sip of his drink, so I do as well. He sighs out a breath, and ask the next question; the one I've been dreading. "So, why Ethan?"

"That's a little more difficult to detail for you, Brian. Originally, I had no intention of furthering things with him. He was just a friend, someone to vent to who didn't know you, except maybe by reputation in the gayborhood. He was my Anti-Brian, my Anti-Michael, and my Anti-Lindsay. He was- is- a fellow artist, who wouldn't be much else without his talent, sort of like me. I could relate to him, because that's how I was feeling about myself at the time.

"Sure, I worked my ass off to get some of the lost mobility in my hand back, but here was a guy with full dexterity, who understood what it would cost him not to be able to fully practice his craft. And he was confident; I was just hoping some of it would rub off on me, in some way. The week I met him... Well more accurately, talked with him, outside of his version of flirting at the concert Mel and Lindz took me to, was the same week that I ended up coming to Babylon, high on some shit I got from Anita and downing almost a full bottle of vodka, asking you to dance with me. When you asked me why I wasn't home doing my homework, I told you that I quit. What you didn't know, and I wasn't in a state of mind to explain, was that earlier that evening Dean Ryasin had come into the life drawing studio, and told me that maybe I should give up trying to complete my studies at PIFA."

"You never told me that."

"No, I didn't. I didn't tell anyone, but Ethan had overheard. The day you made me go back, the day after you bought me the computer to help with my fucked up hand, he came up to me to ask where I had been and if I was alright. He told me he heard what Dean Ryasin said to me, and that I shouldn't buy into the bullshit of professors, who supposedly know more than God. It was what I needed to hear at the time, and as a result he and I became friends. We stayed friends for a few months, before I ever crossed the line with him."

Brian nods at me, as if he understands what I'm saying, and maybe he does. So his next question doesn't exactly startle me, but it is a bit disconcerting that he would want to know this.

"So when did he leave the friend zone?"

"The night of the floor picnic, but then you know that already."

"Not entirely."

"What exactly do you want to know about it, Brian?"

"What brought on the need to have one? Not so much the circumstances in which I said no, but I mean before that. Why did we start crumbling that night?"

"Ethan and I had a small one in between classes. I was hungry so I agreed to it, against my better judgement. I had already called your office to see if you wanted to go to lunch, since I had a few hours to kill. Cynthia said you weren't in, and Daph had a class. So I decided to walk around, and saw Ethan, trying to move this ratty old couch from the curb, up to his apartmrnt. I decided to give him a hand, since it was this little slip of a chair and wasn't heavy at all.

"Anyway, he was talking about what destroyed his last relationship, and it kinda scared me. By Ethan's account, his ex was a lot like you- the type to party hard at every given opportunity. What he said he felt was a lot like I was feeling at the time, like it was hot and fun, but that I needed more of... something. For him, it was commitment as we grew up thinking of the word. Now that I've had a chance to think about it for awhile, I think what I was really looking for was validation from you that I meant more to you than being the permanent trick. I couldn't decide how I was different from them, beyond the fact that I lived with you.

"Afterwards, Ethan had to go to class, and since I still had a few hours to kill, I took the bus to Mel and Lindsay's to see Gus. I don't know; I just needed to have a few carefree moments with the little guy. I knew Lindsay was there, but I didn't expect Mel to be there, too. As I was playing with Gus, Mel remarked that I looked like I had a lot on my mind, and that's when Lindsay said that I probably couldn't find you, which is how I happened up at their place. In retrospect, I detected a little bitterness even then, but I ignored it in favor of spending time with your mini-me. Mel came out to the living room, and asked me if I was alright. I hedged and told her that I was just feeling a little overwhelmed with school and returning to work. I didn't tell her about my conversation with Ethan, although maybe I should have. But then again, you and she weren't on the terms you are now, so it may have been counterproductive to making me feel better about things. I didn't know Lindsay had called your office for you until she came out of the kitchen, and said that you were probably at the Baths that time of day. So I took it into my head to have a floor picnic with you. I didn't want the one I had with Ethan to stay stuck in my memory as intimate, but I suppose it was. It wasn't until later, that we all found out you had gone to the hospital because of Ben."

"So that night, you fucked Ethan." Statement of fact, not a question.

"Yeah, I did. He promised me a song- a romantic one- and while I sat there listening, I felt really alone. I didn't want to be alone anymore," I tell him quietly.

He snorts. "Eat the Meat."

"What??"

"That was the campaign I needed to come up with for Farley's Steakhouse. While I was in the backroom coming up with that slogan, watching a leather daddy get blown, you were getting blown by the violin player. And all I could think of was that I wish it was you on your knees before me."

"Sounds like we both needed to forget that night," I answer him, raise my glass saluting him and then signaling the waiter for two more. He brings them over, telling us our food will be a few more minutes and shooting a wary eye at Brian. Brian glares at him in return, and apparently the waiter takes the hint and scurries back across the restaurant to the bar area. I chuckle briefly, before sobering again. "So anything else you want to ask me?"

"Plenty. But, Vermont... why did you go?"

"I needed to get out of the Pitts, and away from the reminder of you and me for a little bit."

"What do you mean?"

"We weren't really talking, unless we were arguing about something. You were really stressed out working for Gardner; I was still having issues with school and had just finished a shit load of mid-terms. It didn't help that Michael was being a dick about the comic deadlines, and expected me to spend the week working on that instead of relaxing my hand. When I told him about your impromptu trip to Chicago, he seemed so uncaring. It was almost as if he was gloating about the fact that our trip had to get cancelled, so that you could go after the Brown account. It wasn't so much that you had to work Brian- never that- but it was that Michael knew everything about the situation, and I didn't. I had to go somewhere to think, and it was obvious it couldn't be in the Pitts."

"So why didn't you wait for me?"

"It was stifling and there were still no guarantees that you would have been able to go. It seemed the more you did, the more Vance expected you to do. I figured nailing the Brown account was only the beginning of broken promises between the two of us. So why didn't you come to Vermont?"

"Emmett tried to tell me that I should and I was about to, but Lindz called the next day, which was Saturday and asked me to keep Gus for the weekend. Mel had a mega caseload, and she had some bullshit function that had her being summoned to her parents' house. Then Monday morning rolled around, and that was that. Now that I think about it, Michael's constant harassment was notably absent that weekend, even when I went to the Diner for breakfast. Em, Ted, and Ben were there, but Michael wasn't. It didn't even dawn on me to ask where he was. Can't say that I really cared, since I was hiding my disappointment at not being with you for the weekend. Now we know what both Michael and Lindsay were actually doing. By my calculations, around that time Taryn Charles would have had an appointment to get inseminated."

That catches me off guard a bit. I know we have to talk about it at some point this week, but I'm just not ready. I clear my throat and decide to move my timeline up a bit. "So that brings us pretty much up to the party."

"Pretty much. Except there is one more question that I need to ask you, Justin."

"What is it?"

"Now that we've cleared the air, and I understand what was going through your little blond head in your own words, where does that leave us now? What do you want?"

"That's two questions, so which one do you want answered first?"

"What do you want, Justin? Meaning, how do you want this to play out now?"

I sit and ponder his questions for a few moments. What do I want? The first part is easy. Him, now and always. The second and third parts aren't so cut and dry to figure out. I think about all I have ever wanted from Brian- all the things Ethan had given me- but that I've never had the guts to ask for, yet still wanted from the man sitting across from me. Contrary to popular opinion, I never wanted the flowers- just the meaning behind them. I never wanted romance in the traditional sense, but the consideration that usually accompanies such actions. But there is one thing I've always wanted and never got from him.

"I want a first date," I say, before my courage to voice the desire leaves me. The incredulous look on his face is priceless, and I can't help but snicker behind my second glass of Beam.

"You do realize that I fucked the waiter on my last first date, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember that story, which is why I'm sure you won't do that to me."

"Oh? What makes you so sure, Sunshine?"

"You get to see me dressed up in a tailored suit. How often does that happen? And I might even put out, if you're a good boy."

"You'll put out anyway, because I'm oh so good at being bad."

"That you are, Mr. Kinney. But remember, I'm a top with everyone else except you."

We stare at each other, and I can see him weighing his options carefully. I have no illusions that I'm a priceless fuck, where Brian is concerned. But he goes where no other man gets to go on my body, and that alone, is worth its weight in gold. That, along with the fact that I'm just as insatiable and demanding as he is, puts a different spin on this entire outcome.

"Fine. We'll have a first date, but I'll arrange it." At my skeptical look, he laughs. "Come on, Sunshine. When have I ever let you down?" I start to answer, but he beats me to it. "Your birthday notwithstanding."

"I guess I have to trust you, then. Oh, before I forget, George and Malcolm want me to go to this dance competition thingy. They usually go, but due to business needs, they aren't going to be able to make it."

"You're not seriously considering going, are you?"

"Yeah, it's for Wednesday night. It may even give me an idea for the mural for them. I was working on that when you showed up. I'm still a bit stumped, but I know they love ballroom dancing and its many facets."

"Okay, so is tomorrow night okay for this date you want?"

"If you think you can make the arrangements, sure."

"Prepare to be wowed, Sunshine."

"I live to be amazed, Brian."

"You will be. So... does this mean we're starting over, with certain benefits?"

"I see no need to break the system by instituting an enforced abstinence clause into the mix," I say, as if we're discussing nothing of more value than the weather. "That would be setting us both up to fail. We like to fuck too much."

"Damn fucking right we do."

"So to answer your question, yeah, I'd like that."

"What about Ethan?"

"You pick now to get his name right?" We both laugh at that, but then grow serious again. "Technically, we're on a break. But honestly, Brian, and this is just between us, it hasn't been working out since day one."

"What happened to the love that was supposed to last forever, love's eternal refrain and all that other drivel he spouts?"

"Eternity isn't as long as it used to be... especially not when it's with the wrong person."

"And how do you know I'm the right one?"

"I don't. But I'm willing to follow wherever this leads. So..." I raise my glass to my lips.

"To making this work our way, for as long as it lasts." He clinks his glass to my upturned one and takes a sip himself.

"What's between us, is between us, Brian. I promise that the next time there is a problem, I won't try to play Inspector Gadget and guess what the problem is. I'll ask you."

"Deal, Sunshine. Let's leave the guess work to those who will undoubtedly be trying to figure out what the two hottest fags in Pittsburgh are up to."

"I will say this though... I like meeting and living away from Liberty Avenue. Makes it easier to keep my business private."

I can see he's thinking about that seriously, but for right now I think we've come to enough decisions and agreements. It's time to just enjoy lunch and each other. Yeah... I can live with that.