It wasn't fair.

Rage had been *his* idea, after all, *his* dream.

Justin didn't even care about comic books. Captain Astro meant nothing to him.

Michael had only asked him to do the graphics because he couldn't draw for shit, and Justin had only agreed because Michael was Brian's best friend.

And now, Rage was being made into a movie and Justin was in sunny California taking credit for all the work while Michael was stuck in Pittsburgh with a new baby and a mediocre business to run.

It wasn't fucking fair.

Michael sighed heavily. It had been the same for weeks. Mornings were spent doing inventory and bookwork, noon hour saw a rush of school kids stopping by on their lunch break and the remainder of the afternoon would be spent wallowing in thoughts of the blond twink who was on the other side of the country living the life that should have been his.

Wasn't it enough that the kid had swooped in and practically stolen his best friend? Did he have to steal his dream as well? Even in the four months since he'd left for LA, he was still ever-present, it seemed. Brian left Babylon early every night to talk to the kid on the phone for fuck's sake. Brian Kinney! Stud extraordinaire and he was running home to the phone every night like some sort of lovelorn puppy.

Ok, he wasn't actually running, more like sauntering, and only after taking a trip or two to the backroom most nights, but to someone who knew him as well as Michael did, it still seemed wrong. Brian was a free spirit, always had been, doing what he wanted when he wanted and to Hell with anyone who didn't like it.

Until *he* came along.

Michael had noticed the difference from that first night. So much for 'never the same trick twice'. Brian wasn't fooling anybody with those 'early nights' of his. He was fucking Justin. From the very start, he'd broken every rule he'd ever established for that kid.

And Michael hated Justin for it. For changing Brian. For being everything Michael would never be to him. For taking his best friend and his dream and running off to fucking Hollywood. He hated him for all of it.

He was relieved when the ringing phone dragged him away from his thoughts and he answered on the first ring.

"Red Cape Comics."

"Hey, it's me."

Michael's bad mood only intensified at the sound of the blond's voice. "Oh, hey."

"I just wanted to let you know that Brett and I just got out of a meeting with one of the producers. Get this, they actually thought it might be better if, instead of Rage taking JT back to the loft to fuck him, he took him back and gave him some chicken soup. Fucking chicken soup, Michael! Can you believe that?"

"But… that's like… something my mother would do, not Rage. What did you tell them?"

"I told them Rage is a super-hero with super-hero powers and if they wanted chicken soup they should make the movie about June Cleaver."

Michael was only slightly surprised the boy wonder knew who June Cleaver was. "What did they say to that?" He could almost see the smug smile on the twink's face as he answered.

"Brett backed me up and, in the end, they decided to leave it the way we originally wrote it. Jesus, Michael, fucking chicken soup. Can you believe that?"

Michael couldn't help a small chuckle. "Brian would shit."

Justin laughed as well. "Can you imagine the look on his face if he saw his alter-ego standing at the stove stirring a batch of soup?"

Despite his previously bad mood, he felt his spirits lifting somewhat as they talked about Rage. "It would be like the time that guy pulled out his fake plastic ass in the back room at Babylon."

Justin was still laughing. "And don't forget the fake bulge that went along with it. I thought Brian's eyes were going to pop out of his head, and not for the reasons he likes."

They shared another laugh at the image before Michael sobered slightly. "But you're sure they're going to leave it the way it was, right?"

"Brett ended up saying he wouldn't do the movie at all if they didn't," Justin assured him. "That seemed to change their minds fast enough."

"Good. Anything else I should know about?"

"Not really," Justin said on a sigh. "It's a lot of tedious stuff right now. The guy who's playing Icetina has another project lined up so they finished all his scenes and Brett's throwing him a party tonight before he leaves for Asia."

Michael's mood darkened once again at the reminder of the Hollywood life he wasn't a part of. "So should I tell Brian you'll be late with your call?" He heard the bitterness in his own voice but couldn't seem to keep it from coming out.

"Actually, by the time I get out of the studio, I'll barely have time to shower and change before the party. I'll call Brian when I'm on my dinner break at five; he should be home from work by then and I'll be able to catch him before he goes out."

The confidence in Justin's voice rubbed Michael the wrong way. The kid was three thousand miles away and figured he knew Brian's schedule better than his best friend who saw him practically every day. "I don't know about that," he found himself saying.

"Huh?"

"Brian has a late dinner meeting with a client. I heard him talking about it on the phone at breakfast."

"Oh," Justin was silent for a moment. "He didn't mention it."

Michael shrugged his shoulders as though Justin could see the gesture. "I think it was something that just came up this morning. I'm sure he'll tell you when he gets the chance. He's been kinda … um… distracted lately." He had no idea where the lies were coming from, but they rolled off his tongue almost of their own volition.

"Oh." A moment's silence followed the simple word. "Is everything all right there, Michael? Is something wrong with Brian?"

He could hear the concern in the other man's voice and smiled to himself. "Brian's exactly the same as he was when you left," Michael said hesitantly, trying to sound like there was more beneath the words that he wasn't saying. "The same as he's always been. Everything's fine."

"Oh, ok," Justin said uncertainly. "I'm sure I'll talk to him later."

"I'm sure you will," Michael replied, unable to keep the sneer from his tone. "We should both probably get back to work."

"Uh, yeah," Justin agreed. "Bye, Michael."

Michael hung up the phone then picked it up again, quickly calling a familiar number. "Brian Kinney, please. It's Michael Novotny." He waited while Cynthia put through his call. "Brian," he said smiling as his friend answered on the other end. "I was just thinking maybe we could grab dinner together."

"What's the occasion Mikey?" Brian teased. "It's not your birthday."

"Do I need an occasion to eat with my best friend?" Michael bantered back. "Besides, I have some ideas about the store I want to run by you. It'll be like a business dinner. What do you say?"

Brian chuckled. "Sure, Mikey; sounds good. But I don't conduct business at the Liberty Diner, so we'll have to go somewhere else." He waited for the response, knowing how thrilled Michael would be at the suggestion. He wasn't disappointed.

"Great! Do I need to dress up?"

Brian mentally went through Michael's wardrobe. "Wear a pair of dress pants and that black cashmere you got for Christmas."

"Ok," Michael beamed, feeling like a kid who'd just been promised free rein at the toy store. "Where are we going?"

"I'll pick you up at the shop and take you home to change. We'll go from there, good enough?"

"Yeah. I'll see you then."

"Now, I'm late for a meeting. Bye Mikey." The last two words came out in the sing-song voice he often used with his friend.

"Bye, Brian," Michael said with a smile as he hung up the phone. He was practically giddy. Not only would he have his best friend all to himself for dinner, but he'd managed to work it so that he hadn't really lied to Justin either. Well, ok, maybe it was a lie when he said it, but it was true now. That should clean the slate, right? Feeling justified, he tried to busy himself with store business until Brian came to pick him up.

********

Justin's day was busy and he barely had time to think about his conversation with Michael. When he did, though, he felt vaguely unsettled. With great effort, he pushed it out of his mind and concentrated on the work he was doing. By the time lunch rolled around, he realized he needed to talk to Brian if he was going to be productive for the rest of the day and he dialed the office number.

"Hey, Cynthia," Justin said with a smile. "Is Brian in?"

"Justin. Um… sure, hold on a sec."

The next voice he heard was Brian's. "Hey, what's up?" They talked pretty much every night, but Justin never called during the day unless there was something wrong.

"Hey. Uh… nothing, really. I just wanted … I mean, I …"

Brian was chuckling into the phone. "Don't tell me. Being surrounded by images of Rage got you all hot and bothered and you just couldn't wait until tonight for phone sex."

Justin laughed. "Well, that's not why I called, but thanks for the woody, asshole."

"Wish I could help you out, Sunshine, but I've got a client waiting in the boardroom."

"Yeah, you're busy," Justin said, feeling slightly uneasy again. "Michael says you have a dinner meeting too."

"He told you about that, did he?"

"Yeah." Justin searched his mind for something to explain the cold feeling settling in his gut. "I'd better let you go," he finally said reluctantly. "I'll call you tonight."

"Ok, later," Brian replied.

"Later." Justin hung up the phone and looked at it for a moment, running the call through his head. Brian had seemed to be in a good mood, which was always pleasant, but there was something about the way he'd brushed off the dinner meeting. More to the point, the way he'd brushed off that Michael had told him about it. Then again, Michael had been at the diner with him when he was discussing it so it made perfect sense, right? Pondering that thought, he tried to refocus on the tasks he needed to complete.

********

Brian and Michael talked about the usual trivial things on the drive to Michael's apartment and then again on their way to the restaurant. It wasn't until they were seated and had ordered drinks that Justin's name came up.

"I, uh… talked to Justin today," Michael began reluctantly.

Brian nodded slightly as he took a sip of his wine. "Yeah, he told me."

"He did?" The brown eyes were wide and Brian gave him a funny look.

"Yeah, so? What's the matter with you?"

"Um… nothing… I just … What did he say?"

Shrugging, Brian replied, "Just that you told him about our 'dinner meeting'." He raised his fingers to imitate quotation marks at the last two words. He watched Michael's eyes widen again. "Fuck, Mikey. What's your problem?"

Michael's mind was reeling. Ok, obviously Brian didn't realize that he'd told Justin about the dinner meeting before he'd suggested it to Brian. "No problem." He tried to seem nonchalant and took a sip of his drink to stall further conversation. "So, I guess he told you about the big party tonight at Brett's."

"We didn't talk long," Brian replied, aware that he wasn't answering directly. "I had a client waiting."

Michael knew his friend well enough to read between the lines. Justin hadn't told him. He'd thought Brian's dinner important enough to mention but not the party. Interesting.

"Should be a blast," he went on. "Sounded like Justin was really looking forward to it." Ok, it hadn't really sounded like that, but who wouldn't be looking forward to a posh Hollywood bash? "Wonder if Brad will be there."

Brian seemed unaffected. Brad was the young actor playing JT in the movie and Brian had met him the previous month when he'd flown out to visit Justin. "He's in the movie; I don't see why not."

Michael hadn't met Brad personally, but he'd seen pictures. The kid was hot and Justin seemed to genuinely like him. He secretly thought there was more going on between the young men than a purely business relationship, but he'd never voiced his suspicions aloud.

Until now.

"He's hot," he pointed out needlessly. "And Justin sure seems to like him."

Brian shrugged, not much interested in the young actor. "He's OK."

"I think it's good that he has someone his own age to hang around with," Michael went on despite Brian's obvious disinterest. "I bet it will be hard for him to leave that when the time comes."

That seemed to get Brian's attention, though he tried to maintain his nonchalant façade. "Justin's a big boy; he does what he wants."

Michael nodded in agreement. "Still it must be hard, ya know? Living out there in all the glitz and glamour knowing it's not going to last. Leaving the friends he's made."

The conversation was starting to grate on Brian's nerves. "He's got friends here, too."

"Yeah, I know," Michael replied. "But most of them are really your friends and they're all older than he is. I just think it's nice that he's making some friends his own age, like Brad."

Discussion stopped when the waiter brought their meals. They each ate in silence for a moment before Michael broached the subject again. "Brett says they're starting to call them 'the twins'. They're always together from what I hear."

Brian ignored the comment and took a drink. "So tell me about these ideas you had for the store," he said, effectively changing the subject.

The rest of the meal was spent discussing ways to get more traffic through the comic shop. To an outside observer, it would see that both men were completely engaged in the topic, but part of Brian's mind was wondering if there was any truth in Michael's words. Was Justin going to miss LA when he came home? Or would he realize it really was too hard to leave that life and decide to stay? He thought back to their brief conversation earlier. Something had been off. Justin had seemed almost … tentative at times, unable to explain the need to call in the middle of the day, unusually quiet, not telling him about the party. Guilt, maybe? Was Justin trying to tell him what Michael had already hinted at?

"So, what do you think?"

He dragged his mind back to the present as he realized Michael was still talking. "Sounds good," he answered. "I'll come up with something and get back to you."

That seemed to satisfy Michael and they finished their meal with harmless discussion about the goings-on on Liberty Ave. By the time Brian had paid for the dinner, Michael was forming the next part of a plan he hadn't fully realized he'd set in motion.

"Let's go straight to Woody's," he suggested, "then Babylon. It'll be like old times."

"I need to go back to the loft first," Brian informed him. "I want to shower and change."

"Oh." He glanced at his watch and realized Justin might still be on his dinner break. "Would you mind driving me back to my place first?"

Brian nodded once in agreement and they made their way to the car. Once they arrived at his apartment, Michael took a shower and changed into something more casual for their night out. The clock on his nightstand told him that Justin's window of opportunity had closed. "Ready!" he announced with a bright smile.

After turning off the alarm in the loft, Brian headed over to check his messages. Michael could only hold his breath and pray there wasn't one from Justin. When there wasn't, he took that as some sort of sign that he was doing the right thing. As soon as Brian entered the shower, Michael hurried to the phone and turned off both the ringer and the answering machine. If he played his cards right, Brian would be far too wasted to notice once he got home. He was till wearing a goofy grin when Brian returned fully dressed in tight jeans and a sleeveless black shirt. "What?" Brian asked upon seeing the expression.

"Nothing." He shook his head slightly and tried to downplay his satisfied smile. "Let's go."

They played a game of pool and had a few drinks at Woody's before heading to Babylon. Once there, Michael seemed only too happy to remind Brian of how things used to be. Brian had downed his first shot of Chivas Regal and Michael was nursing a beer when the smaller man turned to survey the dance floor. "Lots of choice tonight, huh?" he practically yelled over the music. Brian just shrugged and turned to gaze out at the masses. "Come on," Michael cajoled on a laugh. "Justin's probably having a great time tonight, why can't you?"

"Who says I can't?" Brian replied, scowling as he raised the second drink to his lips and tossed it back. He'd almost managed to rid himself of the doubt that had been niggling at him since dinner. Almost.

"Right," Michael agreed with a grin. "Who says?"

Michael watched closely as Brian proceeded to immerse himself in his past behaviours, smiling when he saw him accept a bump from his current dance partner. It had been a long time since he'd seen this side of Brian and he realized with a pang how much he'd missed it. His smile widened as he watched Brian leading his dance partner toward the back room. Yes, indeed. Brian Kinney was back and, this time, Michael would do whatever was necessary to see he stayed.

It was close to two when Michael finally dragged his best friend from the dance floor. "Come on, Brian. I'll take you home."

"And tuck me in, Mikey?" Brian teased drunkenly.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Michael chuckled as he led his unsteady companion toward the exit.

"Wonder who Justin's tucking in tonight," Brian mused flatly.

"He's a big boy, remember?" Michael tossed Brian's words back at him. "He does what he wants, you do what you want, it's all good, right?"

Brian was quiet for a moment. "No, Mikey," he finally answered, his voice a broken whisper. "It's not good, not good at all."

Michael felt a brief pang of regret at the words. "It will be, Brian. I promise. Now let's get you home and into bed."

Despite his inebriated state, Brian found his eyes tracking to the answering machine when he entered the loft. By the time he was able to voice his thoughts, Michael had him in the bedroom and was helping to remove his clothes. "He didn't call," he said in weary surprise. "He said he'd call but he didn't."

Unsure how much of the current conversation Brian would remember the next day, Michael played it safe. "I'm sure he meant to. He probably just got busy."

"Busy with Brad," Brian murmured.

Michael couldn't tell if the comment was meant to be angry or morose. "He's young, Brian, experiencing life for the first time. That's what you wanted for him, isn't it?"

He'd stripped Brian to his underwear and was helping him under the covers. Sitting on the edge of the bed beside his friend, he waited for a response from the tired man.

"I want him to come back, but …"

"But what?" Michael prodded.

Brian opened sad eyes to his best friend. "But I want him to be happy," he whispered.

Michael stroked a lock of hair from the other man's forehead. "I know," he said quietly. "Maybe…"

Hazel eyes watched him expectantly, waiting for him to finish the thought. He knew he should say something encouraging, but, the truth was, he wasn't entirely sure Brian could make Justin truly happy, not after living in California all this time, doing the job he loved. "Maybe you just can't have both," he finally said.

Brian closed his eyes. "And you're supposed to be my best friend," he said flatly.

"I am, Brian, and no matter what happens with Justin, nothing is going to change that." Michael's tone was insistent. "We've known each other half our lives; nothing comes close to that. We grew up together and now we're both fathers, too. No one understands you better than I do, Brian, no one."

Brian's eyes remained closed as he rolled to his side away from Michael. "Go home, Michael," he whispered wearily. "Just go home."

Michael walked slowly from the bedroom, the tone he'd heard in his friend's voice haunting him. He hadn't seen Brian so open and vulnerable since his father died. No, that wasn't true. He'd been that way after the bashing, sitting in the hospital corridor with that bloody scarf around his neck, tears streaking his tortured face. In that instant, Michael had seen clearly what he'd tried so hard to ignore. Brian loved Justin, was *in* love with him, and it had been tearing him apart not knowing if the man he loved would live or die. Justin had recovered and Brian had barely had a chance to pull himself back together before he'd lost him a second time to the fucking musician.

Glancing toward the bedroom, he vowed that this would be the last time he ever had to see that broken look in Brian's eyes. He wouldn't let Justin return, just to leave again the next time something more appealing presented itself. It was time he acted like the best friend he always claimed to be.

And that meant sheltering Brian from the harm that was Justin Taylor.

********

Justin sat staring at the phone in his hand. He'd tried to call Brian numerous times but had received no answer, not even a message on the machine. The uneasy feeling he'd had all day continued to grow as he wondered what was keeping his lover out so late. He briefly considered calling Michael or Debbie, but one glance at the clock told him that they'd likely be asleep. If something had happened to Brian, someone would have called him, right?

Trying to comfort himself with that thought, he slowly prepared for bed.

********

Michael let himself into the loft early the next morning. He knew Brian would need the car for work and he wanted to make sure his friend wasn't suffering too many ill effects from his night of binging. On his way to the bedroom to rouse the still-sleeping man, his eyes fell on the phone and answering machine. Quietly, he turned both back on before continuing toward his goal.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said quietly, shaking Brian's shoulder. "Time to get up and share your brilliance with the world."

Brian groaned and rolled over onto his back, his eyes squinting against the harsh morning light. "Mikey?"

"I drove you home last night," Michael explained. "I knew you'd need the car for work so I thought I'd pay you a personal wake-up call."

Brian struggled to remember the events of the previous night but groaned again as his throbbing head protested. "Feels like I was hit by a fucking tanker," he grumbled.

Michael chuckled softly. "Well, the one guy was big enough to be one, but from where I was standing it looked like you were the one doing the fucking."

Frowning, Brian tried to make sense of the words. Vaguely, he remembered the burly guy he'd taken to the back room.

Only one of a few if his hazy memory could be trusted.

"Fuck."

"Yeah, you did," Michael summed up, "but now you need to get up if you want to get to work on time."

He briefly toyed with the idea of calling in sick, but remembered the Grafton meeting and rolled out of bed with a groan. "Coffee," he said as he walked unsteadily into the bathroom. A moment later, Michael heard the toilet flush and the shower running. With a smile, he moved toward the kitchen to make the requested beverage.

When Brian emerged from the bedroom twenty minutes later, he was dressed impeccably in a stone grey Armani suit, his hand reaching unsteadily for the cup of coffee awaiting him. He took a large gulp, and then cursed when it burned his tongue. Michael only watched with a hint of amusement until Brian turned toward the phone to check for messages. Seeing he had none, his brow furrowed thoughtfully for a moment. "What time did I get home last night?" he asked.

"Must have been around two," Michael replied with a nervous shrug. "Why?"

Brian's eyes were still trained on the phone and he shook his head slightly before looking up. "No reason. Let's go."

"I was thinking," Michael piped up as they headed for the door. "Tomorrow is Saturday, why don't we take Gus and Jenny to the zoo?"

"Jenny's what, five months old? How much do you think she's going to get out of a trip to the zoo?" Brian asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Well," Michael persisted as Brian locked the door behind them. "Not much, maybe, but it could still be cool. Gus would love it and it could be just the four of us for the day." He watched Brian's expression and saw he didn't look convinced. "Two dads and their kids," he continued as they waited for the elevator. "How many friends do you have that you can do dad stuff with?"

Brian couldn't argue that. And he had promised himself he was going to try to be a better father to Gus. He smiled slightly as he thought about how what a kick the kid would get out of the zoo. Lindsay would probably appreciate some time to herself; without Mel there to share the parenting burden, it was likely starting to take its toll. The very thought of Mel had him frowning again. "Would the Merry Muncher go for it?" he asked, knowing Michael would know to which one he was referring.

"Mel won't mind, I'm sure of it."

Brian considered it some more as they headed for the 'vette. "I'll talk to Lindsay and see if she has any plans," he finally replied.

Michael wore a goofy grin all the way to the comic store.

********

When Justin awoke from a fitful night's sleep, his first thoughts were of Brian. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and knew his lover would be in the office. After taking a piss and brushing his teeth, he sat on the edge of the bed and dialed the familiar number.

"Hi Cynthia," he greeted the blonde on the other end of the line.

"Justin," she replied, a smile in her voice. "Two calls in as many days. I'm flattered."

Justin smiled. "Is Brian busy?"

"He's in a meeting with Stuart Grafton at the moment," she answered. "Want me to put you through?"

He recognized the question for what it really was; she was asking if it was important without wanting to pry. "Um…" he hesitated.

"He shouldn't be long now," Cynthia informed him, sensing the reluctance in his voice. "But if it's urgent, I'm sure he'd want to talk to you."

Justin wished he could be as certain. Now that he knew Brian was obviously all right, he was back to wondering why he hadn't been home to take his call the night before. One thing he was sure of, Brian wouldn't appreciate having a meeting interrupted just to appease Justin's overactive imagination. "No, it's not urgent," he admitted. He tried to summon a smile even though she couldn't see it. "We're just playing a bit of phone tag, I guess. Would you just tell him I called and that I'll have my cell on?"

"Sure," she replied, "I'll tell him the minute he's free."

"Thanks," he answered politely. "Bye."

He hung up the phone and let out a loud sigh before heading to the shower.

********

"Hey, boss," Cynthia greeted him as he approached her desk. "Justin called about half an hour ago. I told him you were in a meeting and he said it wasn't urgent but that he'd have his cell phone on."

Brian acknowledged the information with a silent nod before disappearing into his office and closing the door.

He sat at his desk for a moment just staring at the phone. Justin had been the one to blow off the call the night before, and now he thought it was perfectly fine to call him at the office in the middle of the day. He turned to his computer and brought up the Grafton account. If Justin was too busy partying with fucking Hollywood stars to call, then Brian was too busy with trying to run a goddamned business. Sunshine would just have to learn about priorities.

While he tried to concentrate on the account, a tiny voice in the back of his mind taunted him.

You're afraid to call. Afraid to hear what he has to say. Afraid that Michael was right, that he's found a life he loves more than he loves…

Abruptly, he got to his feet in an effort to cut off the irritating words. He stalked out of the office past a startled Cynthia with only a grumbled 'back in an hour' as explanation.

He didn't really have a destination in mind, but wasn't surprised to find himself parked in front of the baths a short time later. A quick fuck, maybe a blowjob on the side, that's what he needed, not fucking phone calls from a lover who was clear across the country discovering just how much Brian didn't have to offer. He climbed out of the car, engaged the alarm and made his way inside.

Maybe an hour of reminding himself what he had would make him forget about what he had to lose.

********

It was a hectic morning at the studio and the lunch hour was upon him before Justin had time to stop and take a good breath. It had been hours since he'd called Brian's office. There was no way he was still in the Grafton meeting and yet his cell remained ominously silent. Somehow, knowing the uneasy feelings he'd been having were justified didn't make him feel a damned bit better. Anger started to replace concern and he stabbed at the desk phone's keypad, reaching Cynthia's desk once again.

"Hey, Cynthia," he greeted her, his tone bereft of his usual cheer. "Is he in yet?"

"Um, he didn't call you?" she asked.

"No," he grated.

"I gave him the message, I swear," she assured him. "He's in the office, hold on."

"Yeah," Brian replied to the speakerphone.

"It's Justin again," Cynthia informed him, her tone bordering on cold. "Shall I put him through?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he breathed a heavy sigh. The trip to the baths had served its purpose for all of an hour and a half. Since then, he'd felt no better than before he left. Realizing he had to face the call sooner or later, he said wearily, "Yeah, put him through."

"Hey, Sunshine," he practically sneered into the phone once the connection was made. "Have a fabulous time at your party last night?"

"Uh," Justin stammered uncertainly. "Yeah, it was all right, I guess. What's going on, Brian?"

"Going on?" He adopted his most unaffected tone. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit," Justin barked into the phone, his anger growing in the face of Brian's indifference. "Why didn't you return my call?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied sarcastically. "I was under the impression I was trying to run a business here, not a fucking social club."

Justin was silent for a moment. "What about last night? I tried to call …"

"Bullshit," Brian repeated his own word back to him.

"Huh?"

"I was home by two, still relatively early by your time."

"Then why didn't you answer?" Justin asked.

"Because you didn't fucking call!" Brian snapped. "Not that I give a shit, but don't fucking lie to me about it!"

"Brian, I …"

"Look, you've got parties to go to, stars to entertain, you don't have to feel chained to a fucking calling schedule, but don't call here in the middle of the day and whine about me not dropping everything to call you back when it's convenient for you."

"But, I…"

"Don't, Justin," he said, his tone uncompromising. Then, decidedly more weary, he added, "Just… don't. I have to go. I'll… I'll talk to you later."

Justin could only stare mutely at the phone in his hand after his lover had ended the call without another word.

********

Michael was having the best day he'd had in weeks. Just the idea of spending a whole day with Brian had brightened his spirits considerably. There was a moment when he felt a slight pang of regret for what he'd done, but it didn't last long. Justin was going to hurt Brian again sooner or later, he had no doubt about that. Even if he did return from LA, it was only a matter of time before he found something else, or some*one* else to lure him away again. It wasn't fair to Brian to keep him dangling like that, always waiting for him to come back, forever wondering if he would. He was Brian Kinney, Michael's best friend and King of Liberty Avenue for fuck's sake! He deserved better.

And Michael was just the person to give him that. Sure, he'd be hurt for a while, he knew that from what had happened with Ethan, but sooner or later he'd get over it. Sooner, if Michael had any say in the matter. He just needed a chance to realize that Michael was the safer bet, that he couldn't be lured away by fame or fortune or romantic fucking violin players. They had a lifetime of memories between them and now that they were both fathers, they had that much more in common. Justin would never have that, no matter how hard he tried. He'd never have the past that Brian shared with Michael. He'd never understand what it meant to be a father. How could Brian possibly be happy with Justin, knowing that they'll never be able to share those experiences?

The sound of the phone ringing brought him out of her reverie and he answered it practically without thinking.

"Red Cape Comics."

"Hey, Michael."

His expression hardened at the too-familiar voice. "Hey. What's up?"

"That's what I want to know," Justin answered him. "What's going on with Brian?"

Michael carefully considered how best to answer. "Shouldn't you be asking Brian that?"

"I tried, he won't talk to me."

He had to try to keep the triumphant grin off his face as he offered the only advice he could. "He has a lot on his mind right now. You should probably give him some time."

"Time?" Justin repeated the word. "Time for what? What's going on, Michael? Is something wrong? Oh God, is he sick again?"

"No, he's not sick," Michael answered. "Look, Justin, it really isn't my place to say …"

"That never stopped you before," Justin replied harshly. Realizing he wasn't likely to get the answers he needed that way, he softened his tone. "I'm worried, Michael. Brian's acting so weird and I have no idea why. If you know something, anything, you have to tell me."

The pleading tone in the young voice only served to delight Michael further. "Justin, I…" He paused for effect before continuing. "Look, you know Brian. I'm sure it doesn't mean

anything."

"You're sure what doesn't mean anything?" Justin pressed.

Michael sighed. "Fine, but remember you asked."

"I'll remember," Justin replied impatiently. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath before finally delivering what he hoped would be the final blow. "I didn't want to have to tell you this, but Brian's … he's… well, I think he's seeing someone."

"Tricking, you mean?"

"No, not tricking," Michael practically growled. "I mean, you know, seeing someone."

There was silence on the other end of the line before Justin barked out a laugh. "You're fucking kidding me, Michael. Brian Kinney? Seeing someone? What happened to Brian doesn't do love? Brian doesn't do relationships?"

"Well we both know some things have changed now, don't we?" Michael snapped into the phone. "Look, you asked, I told you. He's been seen with this guy a lot. He left Babylon with him last night and they were together again this morning."

That seemed to stop the laughter, Michael thought with a smug smile. He hadn't lied; Brian had been seen with this man plenty. He had left with him last night and he had been with him this morning. Justin didn't need to know the man was Michael. "Hey, Boy Wonder, you still there?"

"Yeah," Justin replied in obvious distraction.

"Look," Michael sighed. "Maybe he just needs time to work some things out. You didn't expect him to be celibate all this time did you?"

"Of course not," Justin practically hissed. All was quiet again for a long moment. "I need to talk to him, Michael."

"I don't think that's a good idea, right now," he replied, trying his best to sound supportive. "You know Brian; you back him into a corner and he *will* turn on you."

"I don't care. I need to know what's going on."

"And what if you don't like what you find out?" Michael asked.

Justin wasn't sure how to answer that. Instead, he went for a question of his own. "You know him as well as I do, Michael, do you really think I'm losing him?"

The voice sounded so vulnerable Michael almost felt bad for the kid. Almost.

"Look, I'll try to talk to him, find out what's going on, OK?" he promised. "If he doesn't want to talk to you right now, don't push it."

"But… if he's … if there really is … someone else, I need to know. I deserve to know."

"Maybe he's just not sure himself yet," Michael suggested. "If I remember correctly, he gave you time to decide what you wanted; you owe him the same chance." His words were met with silence and he surged ahead. "Look, Justin, I'll be talking to him tomorrow. I'll find out what I can and let you know, OK?"

"Yeah," Justin replied bitterly. "You do that."

Michael wore a smug smile as the dial tone indicated the call had ended.

********

Justin emptied the cafeteria tray into the garbage without having eaten a single thing. Michael's words kept running through his mind but he couldn't seem to fully comprehend their meaning. So, Brian had left Babylon with someone last night. Big deal. They hadn't made any promises of monogamy. When he thought back on it, there hadn't been any promises at all.

Not that Justin hadn't tried for one or two. He'd tried promising he'd be back as soon as the movie wrapped up, but Brian wouldn't hear it. He'd said that six months was too long for Justin to be able to know how he'd feel when it was over. When he'd tried to get Brian to promise that the offer to move in would still stand when he got back, he got the same sort of non-committal answer.

Now, as the job was drawing to a close and Justin was finally able to look forward to going home, he wondered if he had a home to go to. Thoughts of the loft had him wondering where Brian had spent the night with his 'trick'. He didn't care what Michael said, until he heard otherwise from Brian, himself, he'd consider the guy just another trick. Had they stayed at the loft? Had Brian fucked him in what Justin already considered to be their bed?

He pushed the thoughts out of his head, determined not to come to any conclusions until he'd had a chance to talk to Brian. And talk to Brian he would, despite Michael's advice to the contrary.

********

Brian hadn't managed to accomplish a single thing since talking to Justin. The fact that Justin hadn't called didn't really bother him; the fact that he tried to lie about it did. He'd checked the machine himself and there hadn't been any messages or any recent calls from Justin's number registered.

The only time Justin had lied to him like that was when… when the fucking banjo player entered the picture. Maybe Michael was right. He talked to Brett on a regular basis and Brett saw Justin every day. It would stand to reason that he knew more about Justin's activities than Brian who was three thousand miles away.

The very idea of the Ian scenario replaying itself caused a cold feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach. Watching Justin walk away had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do and he wasn't about to go through that shit again. At least if he beat him to the punch, his reputation would remain intact if nothing else. Who cared how miserable he was as long as he could still hold his head high?

His thoughts were interrupted as Cynthia announced Michael on line one. With a weary sigh, he took the call.

"Yeah, Mikey."

"Hey. Did you talk to Lindsay about tomorrow?"

Closing his eyes, Brian took a deep breath. "No, not yet. I'll call her this afternoon and let you know later."

"Oh, OK." Michael managed to sound both disappointed and hopeful. "Brian? Is everything OK?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Brian brushed off the question.

"I talked to Justin a while ago. He said you won't talk to him. Is it because of what happened last night at the party?"

Brian's jaw clenched at the words. "Stay out of it, Mikey." There was no way in Hell he'd admit that he didn't have a fucking clue what had happened at that party.

"I'm sure it didn't mean anything," Michael continued, oblivious to the words. "Brett said Brad spends the night at the guest house quite often. I'm sure Justin's just glad to have someone his own age to hang out with."

Brian knew Brett only had one guest house, the one Justin was staying in for the duration of the movie job. If Brad was spending the night there, there was no doubt in his mind that he was spending it with Justin. No wonder he hadn't called the night before; he was probably too busy 'hanging out' with the movie twink he'd apparently become so attached to.

"Like I said, Mikey, stay out of it." He was a little surprised at the harshness of his own voice and knew he had to end the conversation before he revealed more than he wanted to. "I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Ok," Michael said slowly. "I'll see you tonight, right?"

"Sure," Brian said glumly before hanging up the phone. So, Brad had spent the night at the guest house, and apparently not for the first time. Brian tapped his pen on the desk, thinking of what that meant. Justin had always found it more difficult to separate the fucking from the emotions. Since the banjo player, he'd steadfastly avoided situations where the latter would come into play. Now, living so far away, on his own for the first time, he was fucking someone on a regular basis. There was no way this guy was just a trick at this point, if he ever had been. It was time to put the Brian Kinney Golden Rule into effect. Do unto others before they fucking have a chance to do unto you.

********

Justin was on the phone the first chance he got. He had to settle things with Brian before he'd be able to concentrate on anything else.

He was surprised when Cynthia put him right through.

"Well, well, Sunshine, I was just about to call you."

Though the words seemed innocent enough, the tone caused an uneasy feeling in Justin. "You were?" he asked reluctantly.

"I've been giving it a great deal of thought and I've decided this long distance shit just isn't working."

"Brian?" Justin's voice was filled with dread. "What are you saying?"

He took a deep breath. "Look, Justin, we both know things have changed since you left. We can't keep pretending they haven't."

"They haven't, Brian," Justin insisted. "Not for me."

Brian closed his eyes at that, willing the clenching in his chest to subside. "Well, they have for me," he said in a strangled tone. "I don't want to do this anymore, I just … don't."

"You don't… you don't want me?" Justin asked incredulously.

Brian held his breath. Could he do it? Could he actually say the words? If it would free Justin to live his life, then yes, yes he could. "Justin, you're meeting new people, doing new things…"

"Answer me," Justin demanded, cold anger filtering into his voice.

Yes! He wanted to shout. Yes, I want you! He knew that if he said it, Justin would come back to him. Once the movie was done, he'd leave all the Brads and Connors Hollywood had to offer and come home to dingy Pittsburgh, to a life that held only a shadow of the future his current situation promised. Would he be thinking of Brad as he shared Brian's bed? Would he always wonder what could have been until it tore them apart, leaving them both bitter and broken?

"Answer me, goddamnit!"

Justin's voice broke him from his thoughts and he swallowed hard. "I don't want you," he finally intoned flatly.

The stunned silence emanating from the other end of the line was deafening in its density. When the words finally came, they were uttered in a voice choked with emotion. "Fuck you, Brian. Fuck you!"

He closed his eyes as the dial tone filled the ensuing silence.

Another job well done. All those lessons in cliffpushing 101 were certainly paying off.

And Brian Kinney had just moved to the head of the fucking class.

********

Michael flitted nervously from rack to rack in the comic store, trying to keep his mind off the conversations he'd had with both Brian and Justin. He hadn't set out to actually lie in the beginning. He'd just wanted to skew the truth a little, make each of them wonder what the other was up to. Their relationship, if you could really call it that, was volatile enough that it wouldn't take much to shake things up.

Of course, he'd crossed the line into outright lying with his insinuation that Brad had spent the night with Justin. Now he had to hope that Brian would be too proud to confront him with it directly. Knowing his best friend as well as he did, he was counting on Brian acting out of sense of self-preservation. If he suspected Justin was going to leave him again, he'd want to make the first move like he had at the Rage party. By the time the truth came to light, if it ever did, it would be too late to fix the damage already done.

In his own defense, Michael could claim that he'd only been passing on information he'd gleaned from Brett, even if that wasn't entirely true. By then, the movie would be behind them and no one would be able to prove otherwise. Brian might be pissed for a while, but he'd forgive him, he always did. That's what it meant to be a best friend, after all. Of course, Justin was another story altogether; he'd likely never forgive him.

And business partner or not, Michael decided he'd be just fine with that.

********

While the idea of a day at the zoo was suddenly far from appealing, Brian figured it would be better than sitting around the empty loft getting shit-faced. Resigning himself to the lesser of two evils, he picked up the phone and dialed Lindsay's number. A few minutes later, he had the following day's agenda planned and had managed to wheedle his way out of a dinner invitation, claiming that he had a lot of work to finish if he wanted the whole weekend off.

He called Michael and filled him in on the details, grateful that the subject of Justin didn't surface. He tried begging off Woody's and Babylon but, as Michael was quick to remind him, Brian Kinney always went out on a Friday night. After some prodding and considerable whining on his best friend's part, Brian agreed. His life was his own again, after all, he might as well start acting like it.

********

Justin finished off the work day in a miserable haze. Brian's words echoed incessantly in his head until he thought he'd go insane.

I don't want you… I don't want you…

Bullshit.

Brian had never been a very convincing liar and this time was no exception. For some reason, he'd fallen back into his time-honoured tradition of trying to push Justin away, but he'd failed to consider one thing. Justin was no longer the naïve twink he'd been in the beginning. He was a man now, a man who knew what he wanted and he'd be damned if he'd let anyone, Brian included, get in the way of that without a fight.

Brian could push all he wanted.

This time, Justin would be pushing back.

********

Michael sighed in frustration. Brian had been in a somber mood since the moment he'd stepped foot into Woody's. He'd blown off a game of pool, preferring to sit at the bar and brood with a shot of Beam. By the time they'd left to head for Babylon, Michael was hoping the hot men and loud music would improve his friend's mood.

"Maybe you should slow down," he suggested as Brian ordered his second drink since arriving at the crowded dance club ten minutes earlier.

"Maybe you should mind your own fucking business," Brian replied dryly, downing the shot in one swallow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Michael's hurt expression and relented somewhat. Pasting a mirthless smile on his face, he raised his empty glass in salute. "I'm celebrating, Mikey. Why don't you join me?"

Michael offered an uneasy smile of his own. "Ok. What are we celebrating?"

Brian had to think about that for a moment. "Freedom," he finally said with a nod. Ordering two more drinks, he handed one to Michael and raised his own in a toast. "Here's to being able to do whatever, whomever, whenever. Bottoms up, so to speak."

Michael watched as his friend tossed the drink back. "What exactly is that supposed to mean, Brian?"

The proud shoulders seemed to slump slightly as the alcohol hit his system. "It's over, Mikey," he finally said, his voice so low Michael could barely hear him.

But he did hear it and his own pulse quickened. "What is?" he asked, trying to keep the hopeful note from his voice.

"Justin," was all Brian could get out in response.

"Oh." Michael hadn't been expecting such a declaration so quickly. If he'd known it would be this easy, he would have done it months ago. Realizing he'd be expected to play the supportive friend, he asked, "What happened?"

Brian shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he replied, the words slurred. He suddenly felt like he'd had a lot more to drink than he actually had. Between what had happened with Justin and Michael's constant attempts to keep them 15 forever, he was just tired, so… fucking… tired.

Michael didn't like the tone of his friend's voice and hoped it was the alcohol talking even though he was pretty sure Brian hadn't had nearly enough to account for it. "Why don't you let me take you home?"

"Nobody's home," Brian replied glumly. "Don't wanna go."

"I'll stay with you," Michael promised. "It'll be like old times."

Brian had managed to get the bartender's attention and had another drink in his hand, much to Michael's dismay. Alcohol might not be responsible for his current mood, but the addition of it wasn't going to help matters any. "Why don't you put that down and we'll go," he said.

"Ok," Brian said with a grin. He swallowed the amber contents and slammed the glass on the bar. "It's down."

Rolling his eyes, Michael slipped an arm around the taller man's waist. "Come on."

He had a hard time unlocking the door with most of Brian's weight leaning heavily on him, but he finally managed, pulling the heavy steel along the tracks. "In we go," he said, slowly maneuvering them through the opening. He went to close the door, but Brian started to sway and he abandoned the task in effort to keep the other man on his feet. "Let's get you to the bed first," he said on a chuckle.

Brian didn't argue and allowed himself to be led slowly through the loft to the bedroom. He let out a huge sigh as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I had some good times in this bed."

"And you'll have many more," Michael assured him as he knelt to remove his friend's boots. "Right now you just need some sleep."

"No," Brian disagreed, "It's not the same now. It's never going to be the same again."

Michael's anger at Justin resurfaced at the desolate sound of the words. "Don't let him do this to you, Brian, he's not worth it." The last words came out on a hiss that he couldn't hold back.

"That's where you're wrong, Mikey," Brian admitted, trying hard to focus on the other man's eyes. "He is worth it, he always was. It was me who wasn't… isn't … wasn't." He frowned as he tried to decide which tense to use. Finally, he waved a hand absently in dismissal. "Fuck it, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter," Michael insisted. "Don't ever let me hear you say you're not worth it. You're smart and generous and, God, like the hottest guy I've ever seen. You're Brian Kinney, for fuck's sake."

"Brian Kinney," the unhappy man repeated. "Big fucking deal."

Michael grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. "It *is* a big deal! Haven't I been telling you that for years? Being Brian Kinney is the biggest fucking deal there is, don't you get that? Jesus, Brian, most guys would die for a chance with you."

"I don't do dead guys," Brian attempted to joke with a wry grin.

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me, will you? You're everything a man could want. You're sexy as Hell, brilliant, reliable, honest. You don't put up with any shit from anybody and you never turn your back on a friend. Who wouldn't want you?"

"Justin."

The word was spoken so softly, yet it seemed to echo off the walls. "Fuck Justin," Michael finally responded. "God, Brian, if you were mine, I'd…"

"You'd what, Michael?"

Michael whirled to see a very irate Justin standing in the doorway. "Justin!"

"Go on, Michael," he insisted, his tone hard as he made his way into the room to stand before the stunned man. "Tell us what you'd do if he was yours."

"Justin?" Brian croaked from the bed. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'll get to you in a minute," he promised, glaring at the seated man. Turning back to his nemesis, he added, "First I want to know how much of a hand Michael played in all this."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Michael replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I fucking trusted you, Michael," Justin seethed. "You knew how worried I was and you couldn't wait to tell me he was fucking around on me."

Brian was sobering quickly under the circumstances. "What?" He got to his feet. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he demanded.

"I'm talking about the guy you left Babylon with last night," Justin explained, turning steely eyes on his lover. "The one you were still with this morning."

"Mikey?"

"Huh?"

"Fuck, Justin, the only one I left Babylon with was Michael. He brought my car back this morning. What the fuck's the matter with you?"

Justin turned to face Michael. "It was you? You conveniently left out that little detail, didn't you, Michael? You deliberately told me he was seeing someone!"

"You what?" Brian demanded incredulously. "What the fuck, Mikey?"

"He was cheating on you!" Michael yelled, pointing a finger at Justin to draw attention away from his own lies. "With that blond actor twink!"

"Brad?" Justin asked in total disbelief. "Fuck, Michael, he's not even fucking gay!"

"What?" Michael and Brian exclaimed in unison.

"Brad Hampton is straight," Justin answered tightly.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me that?" Brian demanded.

"Because I didn't know you thought I was fucking him!" Justin yelled back in frustration. "What gave you that idea?"

Brian turned to glare at Michael.

"I was only telling you what I heard," he defended himself. "Brett said…"

"Bullshit!" Justin cut him off. "Brett told me he hasn't talked to you in close to two weeks!"

Michael's eyes widened at that. He didn't have a response ready and his mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a minute. "He said you two were always together!"

"Because he wanted me to tell him as much about JT as I could for the fucking role! Jesus!"

"So he didn't spend the night with you in the guest house?" Brian asked with a frown.

"What?" Justin whirled to face him. "Of course not!"

This time when Brian turned to face Michael, his moves were slow and deliberate, his voice low. "Get out."

"What? Brian, you don't mean…"

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." The words were delivered with precision. "Now!"

After an angry glare at Justin, Michael moved toward the door. Hesitating at the top of the stairs, he turned back. "What about tomorrow?"

"Forget it. I can't even stand to look at you right now."

"Brian, I …"

He held up a hand to stem the words. "Not now, Mikey," he said, his voice suddenly weary. "I don't fucking want to hear it now, just … go."

Michael nodded sadly and left the loft.

Justin watched him to make sure he left, and then turned to Brian. He looked at him for a moment before turning and heading wordlessly down to the kitchen.

Brian followed, equally silent. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "So… what are you doing here?"

Justin cut him an icy glare but didn't answer as he reached into the fridge for a bottle of water. He opened it in silence and downed three quarters of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and moving across the floor to stand in front of the windows.

"Look, Justin…"

He whirled from the window. "What, Brian? What can you possibly have to say that hasn't already been said, huh?"

Brian's eyes widened slightly at the obvious anger in both Justin's words and his expression. "I thought… Michael said…"

"And you fucking believed him?" Justin asked incredulously. "Why?"

He shrugged in an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty. "I had no reason to believe he'd lie to me," he finally answered quietly.

"Unlike me, you mean," he replied grimly.

"I didn't say that," Brian shot back. "Don't fucking try to put words in my mouth."

"Oh, right," Justin retorted sarcastically. "Only Michael's allowed to do that; how could I forget?"

"He was only trying…"

"Don't you fucking dare try to defend him to me!" Justin practically screamed. "I sat on a plane for four hours to get back here only to find him practically in our bed so don't you dare try to tell me he was only trying to help!"

"He wasn't in our bed," Brian argued angrily. "He was…" He allowed the thought to trail off as he realized he had no real defense for what Michael had done… to either of them. "OK. You're right, OK? I shouldn't have listened to him."

"You're damned right you shouldn't have," Justin agreed heatedly.

"But you shouldn't have either," Brian added.

Justin looked away for a moment. When he looked back, his anger had dissipated a little. "You're right."

"I didn't think…" Brian ran a hand through his hair as the enormity of what Michael had been doing hit him. "Fuck!"

Justin felt a small pang of sympathy for the other man. Michael had been his best fried for a long time. A betrayal like that would be hard to take, especially for someone who trusted very few. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "About Michael, I mean… I know he… I just ..."

Brian was looking at the floor, shaking his head slowly. "Don't."

Justin knew there were no words to convey his thoughts accurately, so he followed Brian's directive and let it go. "So… now what?"

Brian looked up into a pair of wary blue eyes. "That depends."

"On?"

"On why you came back."

Justin thought about the best way to word his answer and decided the direct truth was best. "I came back for you, asshole. Because this is my home; this is where I want to be. No matter where I go or what I do, I'll always be coming home to you because that's what *I* want to do."

Brian raised one eyebrow but didn't reply right away. When he did, his voice was slightly softer. "What I said on the phone… I didn't … I mean…"

He allowed him to struggle for a moment before a small smile touched his lips. "No shit, Sherlock."

Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head, but he was smiling too. Though he knew Justin had heard what he was trying to say, he still felt the need to say it. "I do, you know."

He nodded in silence, unable to speak around the sudden lump in his throat. Though he hadn't really believed Brian when he'd said he didn't want him, it was still nice to hear that he did. "Yeah, I know. Me too."

"How long can you stay?" Brian asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

"That depends," Justin repeated Brian's words back to him, a teasing smile touching his lips.

Brian's tongue found its way into his cheek as he played along. "On?"

"On whether the offer still stands."

Silence reigned for a moment. "Does that mean what I think it does?" Though his expression remained fairly neutral, there was a hint of hope in his voice that couldn't be disguised.

Justin nodded as a grin slowly spread across his face.

"You're staying? What about Rage?"

He shrugged. "Production is slightly ahead of schedule. There are a few scenes they need to reshoot and the rest is boring wrap-up stuff. Nothing they need me for at this point. I'll need to go back for a couple of days next month for final meetings and the wrap party, but other than that, it's over."

Brian felt a chill at those words, words he'd spoken to Michael only hours ago. Words that now marked a beginning instead of an end.

"So..."

Justin's voice broke him out of his thoughts and he focused on the blue eyes he'd missed. "Does it still stand?" He remembered Brian's reaction last time he asked that question and quickly amended with a smirk, "The offer, I mean."

"Like you fucking have to ask," Brian said, unable to hold back a smile.

A moment later his arms were full of a warm body pressing close to his, soft lips covering his face with urgent kisses. "Oh, God, I missed you so much," Justin practically growled.

Brian held him tighter, never wanting to let go again. Rather than respond with words, he captured Justin's lips in a slow, deep kiss that left no doubt he shared the sentiment. When they finally parted, both men were panting slightly.

"Bed," Brian breathed, kissing his way down the side of Justin's neck.

"Mmmm," he murmured in agreement. They removed clothes as they went, their bodies only losing contact when absolutely necessary. By the time they collapsed onto the bed, they were both naked.

"Brian," Justin gasped. "Brian, wait."

He looked down at his young lover with glazed eyes. "Huh? What?"

Justin searched the hazel eyes for a moment. "I just … I love you," he finally managed on a whisper.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment before Brian smiled and slowly lowered his head to cover Justin's lips with his own, his tongue pushing into the smaller man's mouth as though in an effort to push the words back in, returning them in a way he couldn't with words of his own. Until he could, they'd share Justin's, passing them back and forth between joined lips in a gesture unique to them, the level of intimacy rivaling that of the more sensual act it was so reminiscent of.

When Brian finally managed to drag his lips from those of his lover, he began a trail of warm kisses across his jaw and down the side of his throat, stopping to bite softly at the sensitive juncture where neck met shoulder. His hands entwined with Justin's, squeezing gently as his mouth made its way across the smooth chest where two dusky nubs lay in wait. He rolled first one, then the other between his lips, lavishing attention on them alternately with tongue and teeth until they both stood erect against the pale skin.

Justin moaned softly in appreciation as Brian's mouth moved on, his tongue painting abstract designs on heated flesh en route to its goal. When he reached the dark blond nest of curls, he inhaled deeply, drawing into his very soul the essence of the man he'd been missing.

"Brian," Justin breathed, the word laden with equal parts plea and promise.

Responding to both, Brian took the hard, leaking cock into his mouth, savouring the familiar taste as he slowly engulfed the length in its entirety. Justin's hips bucked into the warmth, a quiet gasp hissing through his teeth at the sensation of being home. He thought he'd go out of his mind when Brian drew slowly back, his tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his dick, his lips sucking hard upon reaching the head. "Fuck!"

Smiling around the mouthful of flesh, Brian reveled in the vocal outburst. God, how he'd missed this! He'd never had a more responsive lover. Not only was Justin able to take whatever he meted out, but he'd embrace it, rework it, marvel at it and then give it back in equal measure with his own unique flair added to the mix. Each time, he was both teacher and student. Taking melded effortlessly into giving and the strength to hold on was realized simply through the courage to let go. It was always fresh and new and exciting, no matter the number of times they'd seemingly traveled the same road. With Justin there was an ever-present awe that two people could come together so completely that it ceased to matter where one ended and the other began.

He lifted his head and smiled warmly into the flushed face of his lover. He'd never be able to voice the feelings coursing through him, but he knew there were better, more meaningful means of communication. Slowly, he kissed his way up the trembling body until he reached the lips anxiously awaiting his arrival. He kissed his lover deeply, one hand reaching out to snag the necessary accessories. When, at last, he lifted his head, he stared into Justin's eyes and pressed the foil-wrapped packet into his hand earning a bright smile in return. As Justin moved to tear open the condom, Brian stopped him, shaking his head slowly before depositing a sweet, lingering kiss on his puzzled lover's lips. Without a word passing between them, he lifted himself off the lithe body and stretched out beside him on his stomach. Blue eyes met hazel in a question both asked and answered in silence.

Justin blanketed Brian's body with his own, his lips leaving a trail of warm kisses across the back of his neck and down his spine until he reached the gentle swell that marked his destination. Parting his lover's cheeks, he blew softly into the crack, smiling at the nearly inaudible sigh that escaped above him. He gently laved the crevice with his tongue, pausing to surround the tight pucker with a combination of nips and kisses. Once Brian's hips were moving of their own accord, he used one hand to snap open the tube of lube, squirting out a generous amount to coat his fingers. He moved one hand in gentle circles on the small of his lover's back while he pressed a lubed finger of the other slowly into the tight channel. A small gasp punctuated the intrusion and Justin kissed one cheek softly. "Shhh," he soothed as he began to move slowly in and out. When he felt the ring of muscle relax around the lone digit, he added another, working them together in a patient rhythm as he slowly stretched the opening.

By the time he'd added a third finger, Brian was gripping the sheets tightly in clenched fists, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in an effort to keep from begging for more. Justin smiled, not needing to hear the actual words. He withdrew his fingers carefully and rolled the condom onto his aching cock, slathering it with lube before positioning himself at the prepared opening. "Ready?"

Brian could only nod quickly in response, his breath alternating between short gasps and shallow pants as Justin slowly entered him. After what seemed like an eternity, he was buried to the hilt, Brian's heat surrounding him in a vice-like grip while he struggled with his own control. Leaning over the expanse of his lover's back, he breathed into his ear before whispering. "I am so going to fuck you."

Although he didn't reply verbally, his ass clenched the other man's dick tightly.

"Stop," Justin instructed firmly. Once Brian complied and relaxed his muscles, Justin placed a gentle kiss just below his ear. "Better," he murmured. "Now get ready, this is going to be a long, long ride."

With that he began a slow tortuous rhythm, drawing out each stroke until he thought they'd both go mad from the excruciating pace. He gripped Brian's hips, raising him to his knees to change the angle and began to thrust deeper and harder for a few strokes before slowing down and starting all over again.

Despite his resolve, Brian couldn't contain the occasional moan as Justin stroked his prostate with precision. "Justin," he finally breathed, the first word he'd spoken since handing over the condom.

Justin smiled and picked up the pace, diving deep into the body beneath him with every thrust, hips snapping, mouth open in an expression of absolute bliss. When he knew they were both close, he reached beneath his lover's body and fisted the leaking cock, stroking in time with his thrusts until they both exploded in mind-blowing orgasms.

He collapsed on Brian's back for a moment, struggling to draw air into his lungs before pulling himself up and off the larger man, dropping to the mattress at his side.

Rolling onto his back, Brian brought one hand to his chest where his heart was still pounding rapidly. "Fuck. I think you nearly killed me."

Justin pressed himself to Brian's side and pinched one nipple hard enough to elicit a small hiss. "Next time you try to push me away, I'll finish the job."

Brian pulled him close and kissed the top of the blond head. No words were spoken, but apologies were made and accepted in the quiet darkness. "What are you going to do about Michael?" Justin asked quietly after a long silence.

"I don't know," he answered in a matching tone. "I still can't believe it."

Justin kissed the other man's chest gently and burrowed closer. "I know."

They were silent for another moment. "I'm glad you're home, Sunshine," Brian whispered.

Justin raised his head to look into the hazel eyes he loved. "Me too," he replied with a smile.

********

Michael was miserable. While he'd still managed to spend Saturday with Jenny, the trip to the zoo had been understandably out of the question. He'd heard through Debbie that Brian and Justin had taken Gus instead. He'd visited the diner and the gym on Sunday, hoping in vain to see Brian and be given a chance to explain. Debbie had tried to arrange a family dinner to celebrate Justin's return, but Brian had told her that they wanted to spend their first weekend alone at the loft. He hadn't made mention of Michael's thwarted scheme or the ensuing hard feelings and to the best of his knowledge his mother was still without that damning tidbit of information.

The bell over the door sounded and he looked up from his books to see a familiar figure entering the store. Jumping to his feet, he rounded the counter in a flash, a hopeful smile lighting his features.

Brian stopped him with a cold look. After a moment, he broached the question uppermost on his mind. "Why, Michael?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't want to see you get hurt, Brian. I'm your best friend, after all. Best friends look out for each other."

"If you were really my best friend, you'd want me to be happy," Brian pointed out rather sadly. "Justin is the one who does that for me."

Michael swallowed hard. "I just thought…"

"No," Brian cut him off. "You wanted, you hoped, you wished, but you didn't think, Michael. If you had, you might have remembered how important trust is to me."

Michael's eyes widened at that. "But… Brian, I …"

"You lied to me," Brian stated flatly. "And to Justin about me. How am I supposed to forgive that?"

"You forgave Justin," Michael pointed out meekly.

"We forgave each other," Brian corrected. "We both fucked up and we both had to work to fix it. It took time, Michael, a lot of time.

The other man was nodding slowly in acceptance of not only the words but their implication. It would take time to regain Brian's trust. In one stupid, self-centered move, he'd jeopardized one of the most important relationships he'd ever had. "I'm sorry," he finally managed, his voice choked with remorse.

"Me too," Brian said sadly. "I need some time. I'll call you."

Michael watched him leave the shop with no promise as to when that call might come. He knew they'd see each other around Liberty Ave.; it would be almost impossible not to, but their friendship wouldn't be the same until Brian once again felt like he could trust him.

There was no longer any doubt in his mind that friendship was all he'd ever get from Brian and he only hoped he hadn't lost it for good.

********

"How did it go?" Justin asked quietly as his partner got into the car.

Brian shrugged. "He apologized." They sat in silence for a moment. "I know what he did," he finally added, turning to look at Justin, "but he's my friend and I don't … I don't want to lose that."

Justin offered a smile; it wasn't one of his best and brightest but it was sincere. He didn't comment on the fact that Brian had said 'friend' not 'best friend'. In the time they'd been together, they had become each other's best friends and they both knew it without having to put a verbal label on it. "I know," he replied, squeezing Brian's hand. "I don't want you to lose that either."

"What about you?" Brian asked.

Justin considered the question. "I hate what he tried to do," he finally replied thoughtfully, "but in a way, I can understand why he did it." He noticed Brian's surprised look and chuckled softly. "I know what it's like to love you, remember? I don't know that I'll ever really trust him again, and he'll never be one of my favourite people, but I don't hate him, Brian. We'll work it out."

He saw the sincerity in those damnable blue eyes and couldn't resist leaning over to kiss his lover softly. Pressing their foreheads together, he smiled. "For an annoying twink who wouldn't go away, you're not so bad," he teased.

This time, Justin's smile was one of the ones that had earned him his nickname. "For a heartless, narcissistic asshole, you're not so bad yourself."

Brian barked out a laugh as he put the car in gear. "Come on, Sunshine, we've still got four months of missed sex to catch up on."

Eager to make up for lost time, they headed for home.

THE END