Friends and Lovers

Chapter 1

Brian glanced over at his partner in the seat beside him and sighed inwardly. This was the second time they were on a plane bound for Pittsburgh with nothing but silence stretching between them.

Of course, this time the reasons for that silence were far different. Before, Justin had been angry after finding out that Brian had tricked, albeit unknowingly, with the man who would become Justin's one real friend in L.A. This time, the silence wasn't the result of anger, but sadness.

"Justin," he said quietly, placing a hand on his partner's leg. "Let it go."

Justin turned sad eyes in his direction. "How am I supposed to let it go, Brian? A man is dead."

"Through no fault of yours, whether you believe that or not."

"Mrs. Tannenbaum didn't believe it," Justin said quietly.

Brian did sigh then. Before leaving, Justin had insisted on stopping by to pay his respects to his late co-worker's family. Richard hadn't been a close friend, but he'd been very patient with Justin and the younger man had liked him. To say the reception they'd received was cool would be putting it mildly. The grieving widow had glared at Justin with accusatory eyes. "Are you happy now?" she'd hissed.

"She was upset," Brian offered in way of an excuse. "You can't take anything she says right now personally."

"It was personal," Justin whispered, staring at his lap where his hands were busy mangling a cocktail napkin. "She blames me."

Brian wished, not for the first time, that they'd never gone to the house. It was still too soon; emotions were still too high. The anger he wanted to feel at the widow for what she'd said to his lover was tempered by the realization that she'd just lost the most important person in her life.

"She was wrong," Brian said quietly to the man who was quickly moving into that spot in his own. "Tell me you know that."

Justin looked up at him in silence for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yeah," he acquiesced. "I know."

Brian smiled a little and took his partner's hand, oblivious to the look they were receiving from a woman across the aisle. "Want something to drink?"

Justin shook his head and managed a small smile. "I'm okay."

Leaning over, Brian kissed him gently before moving his lips to whisper in his lover's ear. "Consider that a down payment."

A shiver of anticipation made its way up Justin's back at the words and his smile grew wider and more involved. "On what?"

Brian was glad for the smile that now graced his partner's lips, as well as the sparkle that had been missing from those blue eyes since their visit to the Tannenbaums'. "On some of the most amazing sex you've ever experienced."

Justin's heart began to beat a little faster just thinking about it. Every time with Brian was amazing. "I think some of those times would be pretty hard to top," he breathed.

"When it comes to topping, I'm the master," Brian murmured with a smirk.

Justin's quiet laugh caused the woman across from them to glare in their direction once again. Brian raised one eyebrow and held her gaze with a challenging one of his own.

"Behave," Justin warned, nudging him gently in the ribs with one elbow.

He allowed his partner's voice to dissipate the anger growing within him, but couldn't let it go completely. "What the fuck's her problem?" he muttered.

Justin turned his lover's face until they were eye to eye. "Whatever it is, it's hers, not ours," he said quietly.

Relenting for the sake of the man at his side, Brian kissed his lover's lips chastely before settling back in his seat. A few moments later, he could tell that Justin's mind was still on the promise he'd made and he smirked as the younger man fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Problem?" he asked innocently.

Justin tried to glare, but couldn't resist a sheepish smile. "Yeah. I think I'd better go take care of it." With that, he left his seat and headed for the bathroom at the back of the first class cabin.

Brian considered his options briefly. Stay and wait for his lover's return, or follow and see if he couldn't lend a hand. With a small chuckle, he decided he'd do what any good boyfriend would when his partner was in such obvious distress. As he got to his feet, he leaned slightly toward the disapproving woman who'd been watching them. "I'm just going to make sure he doesn't fall in."

Her eyes grew wide for a moment before snapping toward the front of the cabin so fast that Brian was almost sure he heard her neck crack. With a satisfied smirk, he casually followed the path his lover had taken.

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The four hour flight, the three hour time difference, the tedium of baggage claim and the usual hassle with traffic made them both appreciate finally arriving at the loft.

"You hungry?" Justin asked as he carried his suitcase to the bedroom. He glanced at the clock and saw it was nearly 8 p.m. "I could order something light."

"After the way Mrs. Turner stuffed you last night, I'm surprised you can even think of food," Brian responded as he followed him up the stairs with two smaller duffels.

Justin couldn't resist a smile. Upon hearing that he was leaving, his elderly neighbour had insisted they join her for a home-cooked meal. It had been a pleasant evening and Brian had enjoyed himself, even though he'd probably never admit it.

"As I recall," he murmured, slipping his arms around his lover's waist and reaching up for a quick kiss, "you did some stuffing of your own last night."

Brian's smirk was in place as his arms found their way around his partner. "As I recall, you weren't complaining."

"Never," Justin assured him, beginning to nuzzle along his jawline. "In fact," he murmured as his fingers found their way to the buttons on Brian's shirt, "I just may be in need of a repeat performance."

Brian put a hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head back to kiss him thoroughly. The heat climbed between them, their heart rates picking up speed as the kiss deepened.

The sound of the buzzer interrupted what was quickly turning into a heated make out session and they both groaned in frustration.

"Fuck," Justin breathed, his forehead pressed against Brian's as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Hold that thought," Brian said dryly, depositing another quick kiss on the younger man's swollen lips before heading for the intercom.

"Yeah?"

"It's me," Michael's voice replied.

Brian pressed the button to allow entrance to the building and then slid the heavy loft door open before heading to the fridge for a bottle of water.

"You're home," Michael said as he entered the loft.

"Observant, as always," Brian responded, holding up another bottle in question.

Michael took it, a small frown on his face. "Where have you been? I've been trying to call you."

Brian was moving past him toward the sofa. "Brett said he'd called you."

"Hey, Michael," Justin greeted his friend as he came down from the bedroom.

"Hi," Michael replied glumly before turning back to his best friend. "Brett did call."

"So then you know what's been going on," Brian surmised. "And you probably know where I've been."

"Yeah, but," Michael protested, barely glancing at Justin as the younger man took a seat on the sofa with Brian, "I didn't know you were going out there. I needed to talk to you."

"So, talk," Brian suggested, raising one eyebrow expectantly.

Michael glanced uneasily at Justin before focusing once again on his best friend. "Maybe later," he muttered.

The other two men exchanged a slightly puzzled, but knowing look. It was obvious from Michael's reaction that he didn't want to talk in front of Justin, but neither could understand it. The two men had grown closer while working on the comic and even more so since the incident in Los Angeles.

"Um," Justin said, getting to his feet. "I'm going for a shower." Directing his next words at Michael, he added, "It's been a long day so I might be a while. If you're gone when I get out, I'll see you soon."

He nodded almost imperceptibly in Brian's direction before going into the bathroom and closing the door.

Brian waited until he heard the shower running before speaking. "Ok, now that we have the privacy you so obviously wanted, what is it?"

He glanced in the direction of the closed bathroom door. "He doesn't seem all that broken up about the movie being cancelled, does he?"

One brown brow climbed slowly upward at the words. "That's what you needed to talk about so badly? Justin's reaction to the movie?"

Michael got to his feet and paced a few steps toward the window and back. "No," he admitted. "I just wanted… I mean …I needed…" He allowed his voice to trail off as he stopped moving and looked at Brian with something akin to despair. "The condom broke."

It took him a moment to digest the quietly spoken words. "What?" he finally said. "You mean, you and Ben?"

Michael nodded glumly, taking a seat on the sofa at Brian's side. "I don't know how it happened," he lamented. "We're always so careful, but it just … we didn't even know until…"

Brian found himself getting angry and got to his feet, striding purposefully toward the bar cart. "What? Until you felt his positive jizz running down your leg? Fuck, Mikey."

He winced at the harshness of the words. "I didn't' think … I mean, we always…"

A moment of silence stretched between them. Without turning to face his friend, Brian poured a drink and downed it. "Have you been tested?"

Michael nodded mutely, then realized Brian couldn't see the gesture. "Yeah," he said, his tone laced with emotion. "Right away. I'm on a preventive cocktail for accidental exposure and I need to be tested again in six weeks and then again at three months and six months." He paused for a moment. "I'm worried about Ben, though. He's devastated, Brian. He won't even touch me since it happened."

Brian sighed and turned to face the other man. "Let me get this straight; you might have been infected and it's Ben you're worried about?" He couldn't keep the slight edge from his voice. He liked Ben, but Michael had been his best friend for half his life. Even the thought of what might lie in store for him filled him with an anger and feeling of helplessness that he was finding hard to contain.

"I knew the risks," Michael replied firmly, "but I love him. It sucks that this happened, that we even have to worry about it at all, but I always figured we'd deal with whatever happens together. Now he seems so …" He let the words trail off, unable to come up with a phrase that would adequately express the way he felt about his husband's current state of mind. "I don't know what to do," he finally concluded sadly.

He sighed and rubbed a hand roughly over his face before crossing the distance between them and pulling Michael into a hug. He wanted nothing more than to be able to tell him there was nothing to worry about, but it would have been a lie and they both knew it. "Does Deb know?" he asked instead, his voice slightly roughened by the emotions churning within him.

Michael pulled back with something resembling a laugh though there was no humour in it. "Are you kidding me? After the way she acted when I first started going out with Ben?"

Brian couldn't resist releasing some of the frustration he was feeling. "She was right, though, wasn't she?"

"Fuck you, Brian," Michael spat. "I didn't come here to hear 'I told you so'. You're supposed to be my best friend."

"And, what?" Brian fired back. "You want me to tell you that everything's going to be all right? Your fucking life may be on the line here, don't you get that?"

"Of course I get it," Michael practically yelled. "I may never live to see my daughter get married and have kids of her own. Believe me, Brian, I get it, but there's shit I can do about it now."

They stared at each other silently for a moment. Both knew what the outcome could be, but Michael was right, nothing they could do now would change it. Their only recourse was to deal with it as best they could.

"So you'll do the tests and worry about the results when you get them," Brian finally said wearily.

Michael nodded slowly in agreement. "And what about Ben?"

Brian wanted to scream that he didn't give a fuck about Ben, that it was Michael who was facing the possibility that he'd been infected, but he knew how Michael's mind worked. He could be whiny when it came to trivial matters, but when the chips were down, he was stronger than most gave him credit for. He had no control over his own situation at the moment, so it was natural he'd focus his concern elsewhere and Brian didn't have the heart to deprive him of that form of escape. "I don't know," he admitted quietly.

Michael could only nod in acceptance, disappointed, but not really surprised that Brian didn't have any enlightening words of wisdom under the circumstances.

Seeing the sadness in the brown eyes, Brian kissed him on the forehead. "Why don't you go home and change. We'll meet at Woody's and have a few drinks, shoot some pool." He might not be able to help where Ben was concerned, but he knew a thing or two about pain management.

"Just the two of us?" Michael asked hopefully. "I don't feel like being around anyone else right now."

Brian considered that for a moment. "Sure, Mikey," he finally said, "just the two of us."

The resulting smile was a welcome one and Brian returned it effortlessly. "Give me about an hour, Ok?"

Michael nodded. "Ok. Uh, Brian? You won't tell … anyone, right?"

"You mean Justin," Brian replied, more statement than question.

Michael looked down at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes to meet those of his friend. "I just don't want anyone worrying about it until we know for sure."

He eyed the other man silently for a moment. "If that's what you want," he finally said, "I won't tell a soul."

"Thanks," Michael replied with a small nod. "See you in an hour." After dropping a quick kiss on the other man's lips, he left to go home and change into something appropriate for a night on the town.

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He heard the shower stop and the bathroom door open, but didn't turn from his place at the window. He'd spent the time since Michael had left gazing out at nothing and trying to come to terms with what he was feeling. It was, he decided, predominantly anger, anger at Ben for exposing Michael to HIV, at Michael for putting himself at risk, at himself for being angry with Michael at a time when a friend should be supportive.

Two warm arms twining around his waist pulled him from his thoughts.

"Now," Justin murmured against his back, "where were we?"

Brian turned, extracting himself from the embrace. "I have to go out."

The initial look of surprise on his lover's face quickly turned to a frown of concern. "Why? I thought we were staying in?"

He had to hold back a sigh as he replied. Justin was like a dog with a bone. He'd simply keep asking questions until he hit upon one that triggered what he perceived to be a telling response and then he'd beat it to death until Brian either caved and told him the truth or snapped and told him to fuck off.

"I changed my mind."

Justin eyed him intently for a moment. "Okay," he said slowly. "I'll get dressed."

"Don't bother." He realized how harsh the words sounded the moment they were out of his mouth and tried for a more gentle tone. "I just have something I need to do." He didn't want to tell him his best friend needed him; that would only send Justin into worry mode. He might inadvertently mention something to Deb and Michael would never forgive him.

"And you don't want me around."

He knew what Justin was thinking and wanted to be able to tell him it wasn't true, but the words wouldn't come. He refused to let them because he knew how easily they could be turned to lies. He was angry and worried for Michael and he couldn't take that out on Justin. He couldn't fuck him when all he wanted to do at the moment was make someone - anyone - pay for the emotions he was being forced to deal with. There were some instances where tricking was just a better outlet. Anonymous, faceless fucks that he didn't care about, that he didn't have to explain himself to later, didn't have to look at.

A self-deprecating smirk touched one corner of his mouth. "Don't wait up."

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 2

As he drove toward Woody's, Brian had a hard time erasing the memory of the look on Justin's face from his mind. He hadn't wanted to leave his lover with the impression that he was going to be out looking for tricks, but, given Michael's request for secrecy, his hands were tied. If he'd acted in any way other than his usual, Justin's curiosity would have been piqued and, as tenacious as he could be, that probably wouldn't be a good thing.

Better to just let him believe he was up to his usual ways.

He was still trying to convince himself of that when he saw Michael waiting for him on the sidewalk in front of the bar. The wide grin he earned upon getting out of the car tugged unexpectedly at his heart and he had to stifle the irritation that feeling invoked. Mikey would be fine. He had to be.

"I wasn't sure you'd make it," Michael admitted in way of a greeting.

"I said an hour; it's been an hour," Brian pointed out without need to confer with a timepiece of any kind.

"Well, yeah." Michael shrugged as they started walking into the bar. "But when you said that, you hadn't told Justin you were going out."

"And you thought he could have stopped me?" Brian asked with a frown.

Michael snorted. "Hardly. I just thought you might be delayed by a good bye fuck or something."

Brian smirked. That was more like it. He'd never felt the need to explain his comings and goings to his young lover, but there were many times when a schedule had been disrupted in favour of a quick fuck - and some that weren't so quick if memory served.

The telltale look on his best friend's face had Michael rolling his eyes. "Get your mind out of Justin's ass," he said, a little harsher than he'd intended. "You're supposed to be here with me, remember?"

Brian curtailed the lewd smile and slung his arm across the shorter man's shoulders. "How could I forget?" he intoned. "Just like the good old days."

Michael beamed at the words and Brian was glad he'd said them. If he was able to keep the worry at bay for even one evening, it was the least he could do for the friend who'd been there for him through many of his own ordeals.

He only wished the cause of said worry could be so easily dispelled.

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After unpacking and putting his things away, Justin found himself wandering aimlessly around the loft. It wasn't the first time he'd called the space home, but somehow it felt different. This time, it wasn't because he had no place else to go or due to a misplaced sense of guilt on Brian's part. This time, they'd be sharing more than a place to live, more than a bed. They'd be sharing a life together. Partners in the true sense of the word.

There had been a point when Justin had doubted his lover's willingness to commit to such a life, but Brian had assured him that this was what he wanted. Them. Together, with Justin never again having to wonder whether he truly belonged.

Absently, he fingered the platinum pendant around his neck, a gift from Brian meant to symbolize and solidify his place both in the loft and in Brian's life. Things had seemed so good after that. They'd had three weeks together in Pittsburgh before Justin had left to start his job in California. Even then, they'd kept in touch on a daily basis, both knowing that the physical separation was temporary.

So why, on his first night home, did he find himself alone in a silent loft?

As though to refute the idea of silence, the ringing of the phone pulled him effectively from his thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Justin?"

"Mom," he replied, closing his eyes briefly.

"I thought you'd be back in L.A. by now. I called to ask how your flight was and was told the number has been disconnected. What's going on?"

"It's a long story," he said on a sigh. "In a nutshell, the movie's over. I won't be going back."

"I don't understand. I thought it was going to take months."

"I really don't want to get into it over the phone," he told her truthfully. He'd managed to avoid details of what had been going on in the last month, but knew he'd have to explain eventually. It was best to do it face to face so that she could see for herself that he was fine. "I'll drop by tomorrow and explain everything."

"Are you all right?" she asked, worry evident in her voice.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise."

"Why don't you and Brian come for dinner? We could all catch up."

"Um. I don't know. He's … in the shower right now. I'll mention it when he gets out."

"Ok. Call me in the morning and let me know."

"I will. Bye."

He hung up and breathed a long sigh of relief. She wasn't going to be happy to hear that he'd kept the violence and the protests from her. At first, it hadn't seemed worth mentioning and then he knew she'd only worry about him. He'd caused her enough worry over the years; why not spare her when he could?

The thought reminded him of someone else who'd been forced to endure more than her fair share of concern on his behalf and he picked up the phone to dial his best friend. A visit with Daphne was just what he needed at the moment.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he said, smiling into the phone.

"Where are you?" she asked. "Is everything OK?"

"I'm home, at the loft, and everything is fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "Why is that the first thing anyone asks?"

"Uh, maybe because you only call me these days when something's wrong?" she teased, only partially joking.

"Yeah," he replied with a small wince. "Sorry about that. Things have been a little crazy lately."

"Apology accepted," she said cheerfully. "So, what's up? When are you going back?"

"I guess the main thing that's up is that I'm not going back," he replied.

"What? What happened?"

"If you're not doing anything tonight, I could come over and make up a batch of my infamous margueritas," he suggested. "I'll tell you all about it then."

"Well, I'm certainly not busy," she informed him with a small laugh. "But where's Brian?"

"Out."

The single syllable spoke volumes and her tone immediately changed to one of long suffering understanding. "I see."

"Daph," he warned.

"Ok, ok. When can you get here?"

"Give me twenty minutes."

"Great. I'll see you then."

He hung up the phone with a small smile. Daphne was always there for him, even if it was to provide a much needed kick in the ass. He headed to the bedroom to change, feeling better just anticipating their evening together.

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"You could let me win one every once in a while," Michael grumbled good-naturedly as they finished up their second game of pool.

"Where would the fun be in that?" Brian quipped, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders and leading him toward the bar. "Two beers," he instructed the bartender.

"Make that one," Michael intervened. He smiled weakly at Brian's questioning look. "The drugs make me kinda sick," he admitted quietly. "One beer's my limit at the moment."

Brian's jaw clenched but he remained silent for a long moment. "How bad?" he finally asked.

Michael sighed. "It's not too bad most of the time. I feel nauseous, but nothing too serious." He paused for a moment. "I'll be on them for at least four weeks. The doctor told me the side effects might get worse by the end."

Nodding shortly, Brian turned to face the bar. "Do you need anything? Money? PEP isn't cheap."

"No, it's not," Michael agreed, turning to face the same way, their shoulders touching, "but we're OK for now."

"Well, if anything changes, let me know."

"I will. Thanks."

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Emmett's voice interrupted them. "I take it this means our baby is back in sunny California?"

Both men turned to face Ted and Emmett.

"Justin," Brian said, stressing the name, "is home, at the loft."

"At the loft?" Emmett repeated in confusion. "Then what are you doing here? I'd think you'd want to spend as much time together as possible before he goes back."

Brian glanced at Ted who only shrugged. It was obvious he hadn't told Emmett about the recent turn of events, even though he was privy to the details since he was the one who'd booked their impromptu flight. He hadn't asked him to keep it to himself, but was glad he'd taken it upon himself to do just that. "He's not going back," he finally said, directing the words at Emmett. "The movie deal is done. He's home to stay."

"Done?" Emmett looked from Brian to Michael and back again. "What do you mean, done?"

"It's over," Michael said flatly. "There was some trouble and the project was scrapped."

"Oh my God," Emmett exclaimed. "That's terrible. What kind of trouble?"

Brian frowned as Michael looked away without answering.

"Michael?" Emmett pressed. "What happened, sweetie?"

The brown eyes that turned on him were filled with anger. "Some homophobic assholes took to sabotaging the set and finally they decided it was too dangerous to carry on so they canned it," he said bitterly.

"Oh my God," he exclaimed again. "Is everyone all right? Justin?"

"Justin's fine," Brian assured him. "He's upset by everything that's happened, but at least he wasn't hurt."

Michael snorted and turned back to the bar, earning him another frown from his best friend.

"Well that's good," Emmett breathed on a sigh of relief. "Poor baby. He must be devastated."

"I'm sure," Michael mumbled, signaling the bartender for a bottle of water.

"So, how bad was it?" Emmett asked.

"They set fire to one of the sets. A security guard was injured," Brian explained as Emmett put his hand to his mouth. "Then the art director was attacked outside his home. He died of his injuries and that's when they pulled the plug."

"Died?" Emmett practically squeaked. "Oh my fucking God, Brian. I had no idea things were that bad out there. When I talked to Justin, he never mentioned a word."

Brian shrugged. "It was just some protestors at first. No one knew it was going to go as far as it did."

"Maybe someone should have," Michael intoned before downing half the bottle of water. Turning, he added. "Are we going to stand here gossiping or are we going to shoot some pool?"

"I can't believe you're not more upset about this," Emmett said with a frown. "Rage was your dream, Michael."

"And now it's over," he replied harshly. "There's nothing I can do about it. I wasn't out there, remember? Now, can we stop talking about the fucking movie, please?" With that, he stormed away from the group in the direction of the pool table.

"He doesn't seem to be taking it as well as he'd like us to believe," Ted observed dryly.

Brian silently agreed as he watched his long-time friend prepare the table for another game. "Well, ladies," he said, downing the rest of his beer and depositing the empty bottle on the bar. "Shall we?"

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"So that's it," Justin concluded his tale. "After what happened to Richard, they decided they couldn't take the chance that someone else could get hurt and they shut it down."

"That's awful," Daphne exclaimed, having heard the whole story. "God, Justin, I can't believe they'd go so far as to kill someone over a fucking movie."

Justin nodded slowly. "I know," he said.

"Brian must have been worried sick."

He grimaced slightly. "He was. And I was so caught up in everything that I didn't even see it."

"Are things OK with you two?" she asked hesitantly.

He had to think about that for a moment. "He told me he loved me last night," he finally said quietly.

He was nearly toppled off the sofa by the force of the push on his shoulder. "Get out!" she squeeled. "He did? What did he say?"

"Remind me again why it is I love you," Justin recited from memory, a small smile gracing his lips. "I'll never forget those words as long as I live."

"I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. "After all this time! I can hardly believe it!"

He shrugged gently. "It's not like I didn't know, you know? But I can't even describe how good it felt to hear it anyway."

"One dream ends and another comes true," she said dreamily. "It's so fucking romantic!"

His smile faltered.

"What?" she pressed. "What's wrong?"

"I just thought." He allowed the words to trail off while he thought about how to describe how he was feeling. "I just thought things would be different now, you know? I mean, he never promised me anything, but I thought …"

"That he'd want to be with you on your first night home," she finished for him. It wasn't hard to know what he was thinking; she'd been thinking the same thing herself. "So, why isn't he? What happened?"

"That's just it," he replied. "I don't really know. Michael came over, they talked, and the next thing I knew, he was going out. Told me he had something he needed to do and not to wait up."

"More like someone," she mumbled uncharitably.

"Maybe it's just too much too soon," he mused.

"You've got to be kidding me," she exclaimed. "It's been more than four years, Justin. How the Hell can that be too soon?"

"But he'd never asked me to move in before," he explained. "Not like this. He said he wanted us to be together, to share more than just a place. You know Brian; you know how huge that was for him."

"I know it's high fucking time he got his head out of his ass if that's what you mean," she replied.

He allowed a small smile at the words. Daphne was always so protective without being smothering. "You know that and I know that, but Brian's still figuring it out," he told her. "I was supposed to be in LA for a few more months. Maybe he just needs more time to get used to the idea."

"You think he's having second thoughts?"

"I don't know," he said with a small shrug. "All I know is that this would have been our first night home together on a permanent basis and he's out probably fucking everything that moves."

"You don't know that," she cautioned.

He snorted. "Please. After all this time, I know how Brian works."

She was silent for a moment. "Maybe you need to talk to him."

"Because that always worked out so well for us in the past," he scoffed.

"Sorry," she said, rolling her eyes. "I was under the delusion that maybe you were capable of learning from your mistakes. What was I thinking?"

He had no choice but to reluctantly accept the chastisement as deserved. "Maybe you're right," he finally said.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "And maybe you're worrying for nothing," she pointed out. "Talk to him. Find out if this is still what he wants. If he's decided he's not really ready, it's best you know now."

He smiled wryly. "And if that's the case, are you up for having a roommate again?"

She saw the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to keep the tone light. "Anytime," she smiled, pulling him into a hug. "Anytime."

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Brian was relieved to see Michael's mood improve as the evening wore on. By the time they'd finished their second game with Ted and Emmett, Michael seemed to be back to his cheerful self.

"That was fun," he exclaimed, coming to stand in front of Brian. "We need to do this more often."

Brian smirked. "Sure. Why not?"

"Up for another game?"

He looked at his best friend practically bouncing in front of him. "I think I'm going to head out."

"What?" Michael asked, frowning. "It's not even midnight. What happened to just the two of us, like old times?"

"For one thing, they did," he replied, nodding in the direction of Ted and Emmett. "Hard to be just the two of us when there are four of us, don't you think?"

Michael glanced over to where their friends were discussing the finer points of the new bartender. "They don't really count," he said, shrugging. "It's just Ted and Emmett."

Brian studied him for a moment. "So who counts? Justin? Ben?"

"Ben's grading essays," Michael informed him.

"And Justin's at home alone because you wanted it to be just the two of us," Brian pointed out.

"So that's it," Michael said flatly. "You're worried about the little wife pining away at home."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Brian demanded, frowning.

Realizing he'd gone too far, Michael took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just … I just wanted a night out to forget everything, you know?"

Unable to resist the sad brown eyes, Brian cupped a hand around his neck and gave him an affectionate shake. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I know."

"Does that mean you'll stay for another game?" he asked with a hopeful smile.

"Why not?"

Brian's soft smile turned to a frown when Michael's eyes squeezed tightly shut, a queasy look overtaking his features. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied quietly, opening his eyes and offering a wan smile. "It just comes in waves. I'll be OK. I'll just go splash some cold water on my face."

"I'm taking you home," Brian said without hesitation.

"No," Michael practically pleaded. "I'll be fine, really." He glanced over at Ted and Emmett. "Stay here so they don't wonder what's going on. I'll be right back."

He was gone before Brian had a chance to argue.

"Brian?"

He turned to see none other than Ben Bruckner standing before him, his expression one of concern.

"Have you seen Michael?"

"He's in the bathroom puking his guts out, I suspect," Brian said coldly.

Ben made a move to head in that direction but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to face Brian's icy gaze. "So, you know."

"Yeah. I know he could be facing a fucking death sentence. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I was making love to my husband," Ben said coldly. "Just like we have every night since we got together. Neither of us planned for this to happen, Brian. I would never ever intentionally hurt him."

He could see the intense sincerity in the other man's eyes and Brian shook his head slowly. "This is fucked."

Ben nodded sadly. "Yeah." He was silent for a moment. "Living with this, you know the risks. You live with them every second of every day, but you never want it to touch those you love," he said quietly. "And I do love Michael, Brian. It's killing me to know what I might have done to him. I just wish …"

"What?" Brian pressed.

He shook his head and sighed. "I wish he'd never met me right now."

Brian considered those words for a moment. "He doesn't."

He barked a wry laugh at Ben's shocked expression. "Look, Professor, Mikey's a big boy. He knew the risks and they were worth taking to him. I, on the other hand, would like nothing more than to take you apart piece by piece for putting him in danger."

Ben straightened to his full height, though his expression was one of acceptance more than defiance. "So why haven't you?"

"Because that wouldn't help Michael," Brian replied, holding his gaze. "It would just hurt him more."

Ben nodded. Glancing toward Ted and Emmett, he asked, "Do they know?"

"For now, it's our dirty little secret," Brian intoned. "Michael doesn't want anyone to know until the final test results come back."

"He started the preventive treatment in good time," Ben offered. "The risk of infection is small, even smaller considering my current viral load."

"That won't be much comfort if the test comes back positive, will it?"

"No," Ben admitted, "it won't."

Brian felt an uncharacteristic sympathy for the man before him. "So, I guess we just wait and hope for the best," he offered.

Ben allowed a small, grateful smile and a nod.

"Ben?"

They turned to see Michael approaching from the area of the restroom.

"I was worried about you," Ben explained, both his voice and his features conveying concern.

"I'm fine," Michael assured him with a weak smile. "Just feeling a little woozy at the moment."

"You should get some rest," Ben suggested gently, putting a hand on his husband's arm. "You ready to go?"

Michael nodded and turned to Brian. "I guess I'll have to take a raincheck on that game," he said sheepishly. "I really don't feel up to it right now."

He had to clench his jaw to keep from lashing out at the man responsible for his friend's current suffering. Unwilling to add to it, he merely nodded. "Right."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

Brian nodded again and leaned over to kiss his friend on the mouth. "Do that."

With a quick smile from Michael, the two lovers left the bar.

"What's up with him?" Ted asked as he and Emmett joined Brian at the bar. "He doesn't look well."

Brian shrugged, not wanting to get into it with them. "Something didn't agree with him, I guess."

"I hope he's not getting that stomach virus that's going around," Emmett interjected with a grimace. "I hear it's nasty."

"Yeah," Brian murmured, thinking about what might lie in store for his friend. "I hear that, too."

"Want to go to Babylon?" Emmett asked, already putting thoughts of Michael and his mysterious illness out of his mind.

He had to bite back a sharp retort. What he wanted was for Michael not to have to take the drugs currently making him ill. What he wanted was to know that his best friend wasn't infected with the deadly virus.

His thoughts trailed off as he caught the eye of a good looking brunet blatantly cruising him. What he wanted was …

"You ladies go ahead," he smirked, already nodding toward the restroom and watching the brunet's ass disappear in that direction. "Something just came up."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin was in bed by the time Brian got home a little after 2 a.m. He rolled over and waited while his lover locked up and ascended the steps to the bedroom. Their eyes met in the dim light from the fixture over the bed.

"Hey."

"Hey."

He hesitated slightly before asking the question uppermost on his mind. "Is everything OK?" Expecting a sarcastic reply, he was surprised by the quiet response he received.

"I don't know."

He could only wait, hoping that Brian would choose to elaborate, knowing full well that if he didn't, no amount of prodding would change his mind.

"I'm going for a shower," Brian said, already turning toward the bathroom.

He quietly watched him disappear into the next room, the implications of those words running through his mind. Even from the distance Brian had been standing from him, he could smell the scent of sex on his lover.

He was still pondering what it meant when he heard the shower stop. It had been a long, tiring day and he wasn't in the mood to press Brian for explanations. If he was honest, he didn't really deserve them. Sure, they were living together for the time being, supposedly ready to embark on a new phase of their relationship, but that didn't mean they weren't still two separate men, each with his own private thoughts. Deciding to leave Brian to his, he rolled over, his back to the bathroom doorway where his lover would be appearing at any moment. He felt the bed dip as the other man joined him and found himself holding his breath, only letting it out slowly when two arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.

Brian kissed the edge of his ear before whispering quietly. "It's not you."

He remembered similar words spoken once before, just prior to Brian's solo trip to 'Ibiza'. He shifted his body, never breaking contact, until they were facing one another. He searched the other man's face for a moment before asking, "Is it you?"

Brian, too, was remembering the last time he'd said those words and couldn't resist a small grimace. "No," he said, kissing the younger man lightly. "No, it's not me."

Justin nodded slowly. "Ok." He wanted to stop there, to just accept that it had nothing to do with them as a couple or whatever they were, but his naturally inquisitive mind wouldn't let him. "Can you tell me?"

The shake of Brian's head was barely perceptible. "Go to sleep," he said softly.

He knew Brian was trying to be reassuring, but it only left him with even more questions than he'd had earlier. Knowing he was unlikely to get any further answers, he closed his eyes and tried to take his lover's advice.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 3

Justin was already awake by the time Brian opened his eyes the following morning. He'd actually slept very little between trying to figure out what was going on with Brian and the dreams his active imagination had produced as a result. He was no closer to any answers and that, combined with lack of sleep, had left him irritable. On any other morning, he'd find Brian's sleepy kisses endearing.

In this particular instance, they were bugging the Hell out of him.

Without a word, he got out of bed and headed into the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. When he returned, Brian was leaning back against the headboard eyeing him warily. "Is there a problem?"

"That would be the question of the hour, now, wouldn't it?" Justin retorted, pulling on a pair of sweats.

Brian's eyebrows climbed at the tone. "And the question of the moment would be 'What the fuck's the matter with you?'"

He turned to face him like he'd just asked the most ridiculous question of all time. "Last night was my first night home, Brian," he pointed out. "Excuse me for thinking that we might have spent it together."

He was silent for a moment. He'd planned on spending the evening at home with Justin, but he couldn't turn down Michael's request in light of the current circumstances. He also couldn't tell Justin that without inspiring a whole new line of questioning. "I told you, I had something to do."

"You mean someone," he retorted, unconsciously using the same words Daphne had the night before.

"That's what this is all about?" he asked, his anger and frustration increasing. "A couple of tricks?" He got up and moved past Justin into the bathroom. "I thought we were past all this teen drama shit."

"This isn't about fucking some trick, Brian," Justin replied. "I can accept that you want to have sex with other guys."

"Apparently, acceptance doesn't mean what it used to," Brian murmured as he opened the shower door and turned on the water.

"What I can't accept is that you obviously need something else from them that you can't get from me," Justin went on, oblivious to the comment. "What does that mean, Brian?"

He closed his eyes briefly against the words. How could he admit that Justin was right without making things worse than they already were? How could he tell him that he'd needed the mindless release that could only come from sex unfettered by emotion? When he opened his eyes and turned to face his partner, his features were carefully schooled. "It doesn't mean anything. It has nothing to do with you; I told you that. Now, are you going to join me in the shower or not?"

"I'm guessing not," was the short answer he received.

Brian nodded once and stepped into the shower alone, leaving Justin to stare at the steamy door for a moment before leaving the room.

Forty minutes later, Brian emerged from the bedroom dressed in his favourite suit to find Justin absently stirring a cup of coffee at the counter. Unsure as to what response he might receive, he walked up behind the younger man and slipped his arms around his waist, planting a soft kiss just below his right ear.

Justin turned in his arms with a small sigh. "I'm … tired," he said in lieu of an apology. "I guess I didn't sleep very well." He put his arms around Brian and reached up to kiss him lightly on the lips. "I get kinda cranky when I'm tired."

"No shit," Brian teased with a smirk. "I wouldn't have noticed."

He offered a small smile before his expression became serious once again. "Are you sure about this, Brian? About us?"

Brian's frown indicated he wasn't sure exactly what was being asked.

"When you asked me to move in the second time, in the hospital in L.A., you thought it would be months before I was actually here. Are you having second thoughts now that I'm here for good? Sooner than you'd expected?"

In response, Brian lifted the small medallion that hung from Justin's neck and pointedly looked at the inscription before meeting Justin's eyes. "I've had second thoughts," he admitted, "and thirds and fourths and they're all the same as my first thoughts. This is where you belong. This is where I want you to be."

Justin's eyes flickered to where Brian was stroking the smooth surface of the pendant with his thumb. When his gaze returned to Brian's, the blue eyes were sparkling. "You can't argue with something engraved in platinum," he said softly, repeating the words Brian had spoken the night of their reunion in L.A.

"Smart boy," Brian replied with a smile. Leaning down, he kissed his lover deeply.

"I'm wishing I'd joined you in that shower," Justin lamented once the kiss ended.

"Sorry, Sunshine," Brian said with real regret. "But I have a meeting in 45 minutes."

Justin nodded his acceptance. "Will you be late?"

"I'll be home by six. If you want, we'll order in and then we'll celebrate your first day home."

"I got home yesterday, you freak," Justin smirked in response to his lover's teasing tone.

"Technically, the day was practically over by the time we got here so it doesn't really count."

Justin couldn't argue with that logic, especially when it was obvious that Brian was actually trying to make something up to him. That didn't happen too often. "Ok, then," he agreed with a smile. "It's a date."

Brian grimaced and opened his mouth to protest the unsavoury term, but Justin quickly silenced him with a long, deep kiss. "Damn," he said once it ended. "I almost forgot; my mom invited us to dinner tonight."

"Can you tell her we have plans?" Brian asked hopefully.

"Depends," Justin replied with a teasing smile. "Do those plans involve me getting fucked into the mattress by any chance?"

"I think that can definitely be arranged," Brian answered in his most seductive voice before drawing his lover into a toe-curling kiss.

Justin's eyes were clouded with lust when he was finally released from the strong hold. "Um … I'll uh …"

"Call your mother?" Brian offered with an amused smirk.

"Right. We have plans."

Brian kissed him again quickly. "Later."

"Yeah," Justin murmured, watching the other man walk toward the door. "Definitely later."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

After glancing at the clock on his desk, Brian began packing up his briefcase. If he left a little early, he'd have time to drop in at the comic store before heading home. He didn't intend to hover, but he couldn't deny he was worried about Michael. Once he saw with his own eyes that his friend had recovered from the previous night's bout of nausea, he'd be better able to relax and enjoy the night he'd planned with Justin.

His quest for reassurance proved to be futile when he arrived at the comic store to find Michael looking even worse than he had the night before.

"Hey," Michael greeted him, somewhat surprised. "What brings you here?"

"Do I need a reason to visit my best friend?"

Michael huffed an amused laugh. "You don't need one, but that doesn't mean you don't have one."

Brian considered the words for a moment as well as the pale features of the other man. "I wanted to see if you were feeling better," he replied honestly.

Michael shrugged as he turned to replace a stack of comics on a shelf behind the counter. "The doctor said it might take some time." He turned to face the other man once again. "Everyone reacts differently. I'll either adjust to the meds and the side effects won't bother me so much, or they'll build up in my system and I'll feel worse as time goes on."

"So that's it?" Brian asked flatly. "You're resigned to feeling like shit for the next six months?

Michael looked down at the counter before turning to rearrange the stack of comics he'd just placed. "I don't have much choice in the matter."

Brian let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. Michael hadn't asked for this. There was no use in making him feel worse than he already did. Deciding a change of subject was in order, he sighed and leaned against the counter. "So, what do you and big Ben have planned for this evening?"

Michael turned, smiling a little at Brian's choice of words. "Actually, Ben's out of town." At the appearance of a questioning look, he elaborated. "They invited him to be a guest lecturer at a symposium in Altoona. It's been planned for months. I was going to go with him, but I got this new shipment in and …" He allowed his voice to trail off with a small shrug.

Brian watched him for a moment. "Now that we have the bullshit out of the way, how about the real reason?"

There was no need to pretend he didn't understand the question. "Things have never been so uncomfortable between us," he replied miserably. "He spends most of his time feeling guilty and I don't know what else I can say to him to change that."

Brian didn't know either. Ben was liable to feel guilty for possibly infecting the man he loved. He didn't think anything would change that save a final negative test result. Even then, the fear would always be there, greater and more prominent than it had been before the scare. While he wished he had some words of encouragement to offer his friend, nothing even remotely appropriate came to mind. "He's just worried about you," he offered, knowing it was inadequate.

Michael scoffed. "Tell me about it. Every time I throw up, he looks like he just took a knife to the gut. I'm not sure who this is harder on, me or him."

Brian had no answer for that, so he pushed away from the counter and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Well, Mikey, since you're a single man again, for the night anyway, what do you say we hit Woody's for a few drinks?"

Offering a wan smile, Michael shook his head. "Thanks, but I learned my lesson last night. An hour from now I'll be puking my guts out as it is. Alcohol will only make it worse. I'm just going to go home and call it an early night."

Brian nodded in acceptance. "Ok, come on, then. I'll give you a ride."

"Thanks," he said with a smile. "It'll only take me a few minutes to close up."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

By the time they reached Michael's apartment, he was looking obviously ill.

"Is it like this every day?" Brian asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.

"It's the pills," Michael explained as they got out of the car. "I take them three times a day. A couple hours later, I feel nauseous for a while, but it passes. The rest of the time, I'm fine. A little tired, maybe, but that's it."

They entered the apartment and Brian looked around. "Don't tell me your foundling no longer rushes to the door upon my arrival."

Michael chuckled. "I'm sure he would, but he's not here. He's spending the night with a friend."

"Oh?" Brian mused, raising an eyebrow. "Male or female?"

"Male," Michael informed him while rolling his eyes. "But it's not like that. They're working on a science project."

Brian tossed his jacket on the chair and took the beer Michael offered before lowering his tall frame into a chair. Michael sat across from him, sipping a glass of ginger ale in an effort to settle his stomach.

"Have you given any thought to where Rage is going to go from here?" Brian asked.

He merely shrugged. "We haven't really discussed it," he said vaguely, his eyes lowering to study the glass in his hand.

His friend didn't miss the evasive gesture. "Is there a problem, Mikey?"

He looked up with a touch of anger in his eyes. "This movie was a huge deal for me, Brian."

"And now it's over," he replied calmly. "That doesn't negate all the work you've done on the comic."

"It's not the same," Michael mumbled, once again looking down at the drink in his hand.

"No, it's better," Brian pointed out. "You have full control over the comic. Yours is the final say on what gets printed and what doesn't."

"Could we not talk about this now, please?" he replied irritably before downing the rest of his drink. A second later, he was running for the bathroom.

Brian closed his eyes against the sound of his friend retching. He hated feeling helpless, but he knew there was nothing he could do to change the current situation.

When Michael emerged a few minutes later, he was pale and sweaty, one hand clutching his stomach. "I guess I drank it too fast," he offered weakly. "I should know better." He doubled over a bit and Brian was on his feet.

"Mikey?"

"I'm Ok," Michael answered breathlessly. "Just … a muscle cramp. It'll pass."

Despite the assurance, Brian helped his friend into the bedroom and pulled back the covers. "Here, lay down."

Michael nodded and removed his shoes before reclining back on the bed.

"Want me to call someone?" Brian asked. "Maybe Emmett could come over and …"

"No," Michael interrupted him. "If he sees me like this, he'll just ask a lot of questions, or worse yet, jump to conclusions. I'm fine."

"You're not fucking fine," Brian grated in frustration. "Jesus, Mikey, I can't just leave you here like this. Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

He tried to muster a teasing smile. "Ben sometimes rubs my back," he suggested, trying to ease his friend's worry. The smile was quickly replaced with an expression of sadness. "It's the only time he does touch me these days."

Brian sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Try to sleep," he suggested quietly. "Maybe you'll feel better when you wake up."

Michael nodded slightly, his eyes already closed. "Glad you're here," he murmured before the physical and emotional exhaustion finally claimed him.

Brian ran a hand through his hair and looked at the clock beside Michael's bed. With a sigh, he got to his feet and made his way into the other room. He took out his cell phone, pressed the button for the loft and waited.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin reached for the phone and checked the call display, smiling as he answered. "Hey."

"Hey," Brian returned with a small smile of his own. "Look, I'm not going to be home as early as I thought. Something came up."

"Oh," Justin responded, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Ok."

"I know your mom wanted to see you. Why don't you pop over there for a visit and tell her we'll still do the dinner thing another time."

"Yeah, sure," Justin replied. "I know she's dying to know what happened with the movie. I could go over and explain things, I guess."

Brian chuckled. "Don't sound so enthusiastic."

Justin couldn't help a small smile that quickly turned into a grimace. "God, Brian, you know what she's going to be like. She'll freak when she finds out what was really going on out there."

"All the more reason she should hear it from you when she can see for herself that her baby boy is still in one piece."

"Ha ha," Justin remarked, though he knew his lover was right. "Any idea when you'll be home?"

Brian glanced toward Michael's bedroom door. "Uh, no, not really. As soon as I finish up here."

"Oh, ok," Justin replied. "I guess I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Later."

He hung up the phone and ran a hand irritably through his hair. He hadn't actually lied to Justin, but he hadn't really told him anything either. He knew Michael didn't want anyone else to know and he would do his best to respect his friend's wishes in that regard.

He only hoped that decision didn't come back to bite him in the ass later.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin had called his mother and was about to leave for her townhouse when the phone rang again. Looking at the call display, he smiled upon seeing Kinnetik's number.

"Forget something?" he practically purred into the phone.

"I didn't," Cynthia teased, "But Brian apparently did."

"Oh, Cynthia," Justin said, blushing slightly. "I thought you were Brian."

"Wouldn't have guessed," she laughed. "Listen, Brian forgot the James file when he left and I know he wanted to work on it tonight. Would it be all right if I dropped it off?"

"Uh, sure," he said. "Unless he's already on his way back for it. He couldn't have left that long ago."

"He left here around 4:30," she replied. "If he hasn't been home yet, he probably doesn't even realize he forgot it. I'll just drop it off on my way home; it's no trouble."

"Yeah, sure, Ok," Justin replied absently. "Ring the buzzer and I'll let you up."

"Ok, see you in a bit."

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before his eyes shifted to glance at his watch. 6:20. Brian had called approximately twenty minutes earlier, yet he'd left the office close to two hours ago. He played back the conversation in his mind and realized that Brian hadn't actually said he was at the office, just that something had come up.

And he knew what that usually meant.

With a weary sigh, he flopped onto the sofa and waited for Cynthia's arrival.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Brian was idly flicking through channels on the TV when Michael emerged from the bedroom.

"Jesus," the smaller man exclaimed upon seeing his friend reclining in one of the chairs. "You scared the shit out of me."

Switching the TV off, he got to his feet. "Feeling better?"

Michael frowned slightly. "Yeah, I guess." He looked at the time. "What are you still doing here?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Brian snapped. "Leave you here alone like that?"

The smaller man's face clouded with anger. "I don't need a fucking babysitter, Brian."

Brian's demeanour softened somewhat. "No, but you don't need to be alone when you're feeling like you are." He paused a moment. "I think you should tell Deb."

"What? And have her here every waking minute? No thanks."

"She deserves to know."

"There's nothing to know, OK? If and when there is, I'll tell her. Until then, butt out."

"Look, Mikey …"

"No, you look," Michael practically shouted. "I don't need my mother and I don't need you telling me what to do."

"No, just to watch over you so you don't choke to death on your own vomit while you're sleeping off the fucking pills," Brian spat.

"Sorry to be such an inconvenience, but nobody asked you to stay," Michael retorted sarcastically. "What? Am I interfering with your playtime? You worried about how many blowjobs you might have missed in the last few hours?"

"Maybe I had plans."

"So who asked you to change them?" Michael demanded. "If these precious plans of yours are so important, what the fuck are you still doing here?"

"Damned if I know," Brian muttered, shaking his head and grabbing his jacket. He opened the door and then turned to face his friend. He opened his mouth to say something, then merely shook his head again before walking out and closing the door firmly behind him.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was close to midnight when Brian wearily entered the loft. He'd intended to go straight home from Michael's, but couldn't shake the frustration he was feeling from their encounter. He hated being at odds with his best friend, almost as much as he hated seeing him suffering the effects of the drugs on his system. Knowing Justin would pick up on the tension he was feeling and not wanting to have to dodge questions all night, he decided to work some of it off before heading home. Two blowjobs at Woody's and a quick fuck in the backroom at Babylon had dispelled some of the angry frustration. Of course, the three double shots of Beam might have helped.

He wasn't surprised to see Justin still up and at the computer. The accusing look he got from his partner silenced the greeting he'd been about to offer and he merely sighed and headed up to the bedroom. He was sitting on the side of the bed, taking off his boots, when Justin appeared in the opening of the glass partitions.

"Busy night?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

Brian smiled wryly. "You could say that."

Justin just watched him for a moment, taking in the sluggish movements and the scent of sex and unfamiliar colognes emanating from the other man. "Cynthia dropped by before I went to my mom's. She brought a file you forgot when you left …early."

"Good ol' Cynthia," Brian muttered. "Could have saved her a trip. I'm not up to working on it tonight."

"That's evident," Justin intoned. "So, now that we both know you weren't at the office, care to tell me what's going on?"

Brian barked a laugh. "When last I checked, Sunshine, you were not my mother. But, if you really feel the need to know my every movement, I was out."

Justin just looked at him silently for a moment before nodding once and turning to leave the room.

"Wait, is this the part where you pack your shit and go crying off to Daphne?" Brian demanded cruelly.

Turning, he surveyed the man still seated on the bed. "Go to sleep, Brian," he finally said dully. Without waiting for a response, he left the room and returned to what he'd been working on.

Brian watched him go and then squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Fuck! He hadn't intended to pick a fight, but knowing he'd disappointed Justin yet again, combined with the earlier encounter at Michael's had left him feeling more than a little defensive. He sat there for a few minutes, trying to figure out a way to make things right with his lover without divulging his best friend's secret. When the thought process proved to be too much in his present state of mind, he wearily stood and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

Justin heard the shower start and breathed out a sigh. They'd never really discussed the role tricking would play in their new living arrangements, but he couldn't help feeling disappointed that Brian was out seeking something else. Was he having second thoughts, despite his earlier words to the contrary? Maybe he was trying to make one of his infamous points. Trying to make sure Justin understood the true state of their relationship. They shared a home, and certain aspects of their lives, but Brian Kinney was still his own man, needing to hold on to the reputation that was so important to him. Justin could understand it, to a point. He'd never asked Brian to change, only hoped that in time he'd come to realize that sex with one person was so much more meaningful than a host of nameless, faceless tricks.

Apparently, that time was still much further away than he'd realized.

He heard the shower stop and waited, listening to the muffled sounds coming from the bathroom. When he heard the sound of bare footsteps approaching him, he let out the breath he'd been holding.

"What are you working on?" Brian asked quietly, his hands gently massaging Justin's shoulders.

Relief washed through the younger man, glad that Brian wasn't intent on continuing with the argumentative behaviour he'd exhibited earlier. "Just tweaking my resume," he answered, glancing up at his lover briefly before returning his eyes to the screen. "I needed to add the movie job, but I was having a hard time getting the right wording without being too detailed."

"Resume?" Brian repeated, frowning. "What for?"

Justin laughed lightly. "They come in handy when you're looking for a job."

"I thought you'd be working at Kinnetik." Brian struggled to clear his head, wishing he hadn't had that last shot.

Justin turned the chair so he was facing his lover. "I want to make my own money, Brian." He held up a hand to stem the words he knew he'd hear. "I know, I earn what I make from Kinnetik, but it still comes out of your pocket in the long run. I'll continue to freelance for you when you need something particular, but I want to get a real job of my own to save some money for school."

"So you're still planning on going back," Brian clarified, relieved. He'd been trying to get Justin back to school for some time.

"I told you I was," Justin replied softly. "I've already registered for courses starting in January. I didn't think I'd be back from California in time for the Fall term. This way, I can work a few more months and save more."

"You already registered?" Brian repeated.

Justin nodded. "Shortly after I moved to L.A."

"I see," was all Brian said before turning toward the bedroom. "Coming to bed?"

It was Justin's turn to frown at the sudden change in tone. Brian had wanted him to go back to school. He would have thought he'd be happier hearing that his plans hadn't changed. Still mulling over the thoughts in his mind, he saved the document and shut down the computer.

After turning off the lights and setting the alarm, he went to find Brian already in bed. He undressed in silence and crawled under the covers, unsure how close he dared get given the other man's recent behaviour. He was relieved to feel strong arms pulling him closer and contently settled into the welcome embrace.

"Brian?" he whispered after a moment of silence.

"Hmm?"

Justin found himself at a loss to verbalize the many questions running through his mind. "I. …nothing."

He knew it wasn't nothing. He'd have to be the totally heartless bastard so many believed him to be not to realize that he'd inadvertently given Justin cause to wonder about his recent behaviour. How was he supposed to allay the concerns his lover obviously had without betraying his friend's confidence?

In true Kinney fashion; how else?

He tilted Justin's chin up until their eyes made contact, each looking at the other for a long moment until Brian slowly leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lover's lips. When they parted, Justin's eyes were still full of questions now tinged with hope.

"Shhh," Brian whispered as the younger man opened his mouth to speak. "Let me answer you."

Justin stared for a moment, then nodded slowly, Brian's cue to continue. And continue he did, starting with a trail of soft, warm kisses along his lover's jaw and down the side of his throat to the spot where neck merged with shoulder. He knew this was a sensitive spot and bit down just hard enough to elicit the gasp of pleasure he'd been hoping for. Satisfied, he continued his ministrations, hands following lips as they tracked a path slowly down the other man's chest.

He continued in this manner, playing homage to every inch of skin before returning to take the now panting lips in his own. After a long, deep kiss, he reached for the lube and grabbed a condom from the ever present dish beside the bed. His eyes remained locked on Justin's as he coated his fingers and slowly stretched the younger man in preparation for what was to come.

Justin had followed Brian's lead, only gasps and moans of pleasure passing his lips in lieu of words. When his lover's fingers brushed his prostate, however, he found himself unable to hold back.

"Brian," he whispered hoarsely, "please."

He removed his fingers and sheathed his cock in a matter of seconds. After placing a soft kiss on the reddened lips of the man beneath him, Brian gently guided him onto his side. His lips trailed across one pale shoulder, his hand moving to rest on the younger man's hip. "Ready?" he whispered directly into Justin's ear.

He could only moan and nod as he felt his lover's warm breath against his skin. Reaching behind him, he found Brian's free hand and entwined their fingers as he felt himself being slowly filled. It was sweet agony, the long slow push that finally culminated in Brian being buried deep inside him. "Oh God, Brian." The words floated on a breathless moan.

The response he received was a soft kiss just below his ear as Brian started to move, slowly establishing a sensual, unhurried rhythm. Justin matched it easily, unable to keep himself from thinking back to the first time they'd been together after the bashing.

"Like the first time," Brian whispered as though reading his thoughts.

With those words, the most important of Justin's many questions was answered. Whatever else was going on, things between them were OK.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 4

Justin wasn't yet fully awake when he realized he was alone in the bed. After glancing at the clock and seeing that it was too early for Brian to have left for the office, he laid there for a moment, listening for the sound of the shower. When nothing but silence greeted his waiting ears, he frowned slightly and rolled out of bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats and made his way toward the kitchen, thinking he'd find Brian having his morning coffee and reading the paper. Instead, he found him sitting in front of the computer.

"Morning," he murmured, slipping his arms around the other man's neck and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Brian tilted his head up to offer a small smile before claiming a more proper kiss. "Morning," he returned the greeting once they'd parted.

Justin looked over his shoulder and wasn't overly surprised to see the resume he'd been working on the previous night on the screen. "Well? Anything you think I need to add? Edit? Revise?"

Brian was silent for a moment before closing the document and getting to his feet. "It's fine," he said simply as he carried his empty cup to the kitchen.

Justin knew that tone. "But...," he prodded.

He refilled his coffee mug and took a sip before turning to face the younger man. "As an employer, I'd be more impressed if I could actually see a degree listed among those accomplishments."

He had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "By the time I'm considering a serious career move, I'll have one."

"Unless something better comes up in the meantime," Brian murmured, turning to dump the rest of his coffee down the sink.

"That's not going to happen, Brian," Justin tried to assure him. "I know how important school is." He noted the skeptical look Brian shot in his direction and amended his statement. "You're right, I resisted going back for a long time, but I know better now. I've had a taste of a career in something I enjoy and I know the best way to ensure I'll have that in the future is to get the proper education."

Brian was relieved to see nothing but sincerity in the blue eyes looking back at him. Justin had grown a lot in just the month he'd been away. Maybe he could stop worrying that something would again distract him from finishing school.

Or maybe he needed to worry all the more.

"You really think any job you can get without a degree and on a temporary basis, I might add, is going to be worthy of your talents?"

Justin couldn't hide a smile as he crossed the room to stand directly in front of his lover, his arms snaking around the trim waist. "That may be the most complimentary thing you've ever said to me," he murmured, reaching up to nuzzle the skin at Brian's neck.

Brian snorted, encircling Justin with his arms and pulling him closer. "I'm sure I've commented on your many talents once or twice before."

"Mmm," Justin replied in distraction. "I meant my art."

"Ahh," he teased. He allowed Justin a moment to continue placing soft kisses along his jaw before taking the smaller man's face between his hands and pulling him back enough so that they could look into one another's eyes. "I may not comment on it often, but I do realize that you have real talent." He smirked. "For art, among other things."

Justin smiled. "You wouldn't let me near a Kinnetik account otherwise; I know that."

Brian smiled and kissed him lightly. "Good. And speaking of Kinnetik, I need to go."

He nodded and backed reluctantly out of the other man's warm embrace. "You busy for lunch?"

"Afraid so," Brian replied, double-checking his briefcase. "I have an appointment with Henderson at noon."

"Mmm," Justin murmured with a smile. "I'm impressed, Mr. Kinney."

"Yeah, well," Brian sighed, closing the briefcase and kissing his lover once again. "You might want to save your awe and admiration until the contracts are actually signed."

"A mere formality," Justin assured him. "It's in the bag."

"Now I remember why I keep you around," Brian teased, picking up his keys and pocketing his cell phone. He cupped his hand behind Justin's neck and kissed him one final time before picking up his briefcase and heading for the door. "Later."

"Later." Justin watched him leave then headed for the shower to start his day.

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It was mid afternoon when Cynthia buzzed Brian's office for what seemed like millionth time.

"Yes," he said wearily into the intercom.

"There's a Mr. Gus Peterson here to see you," she replied in her most professional tone.

He smiled. "Send him in."

Seconds later, the door opened and Gus came barrelling through. "Daddy!"

"Hey, Sonny Boy," Brian greeted his son before acknowledging the child's mother. "Lindsay."

She smiled tightly and nodded. "Brian."

"What brings you here today?" he asked, directing his words at Gus even though they were meant more for Lindsay.

"I need to talk to you," she answered.

Brian could tell by her expression that something was bothering her. "Hey, Sonny Boy," he said to Gus, "do you think you could draw me a picture?"

Gus nodded, smiling, and Brian couldn't help offering one of his own in response. Reaching into his top desk drawer, he pulled out a pack of crayons and a pad of paper.

"I can draw like Justin?" Gus asked, obviously enthused.

"Just like Justin," Brian agreed. He placed the young boy in his chair and watched as he scrambled onto his knees to better reach the desk. Once he was satisfied that Gus would amuse himself for a while creating his masterpiece, he gestured for Lindsay to join him on the sofa.

"What's up?" he asked without preamble.

She sighed heavily. "I had a visit from my mother last week."

"My condolences," Brian offered.

She ignored the barb and continued. "She wasn't happy with the apartment we were in. She said she didn't want Gus growing up in that sort of environment."

"It wasn't exactly the Ritz," he pointed out in a wry tone.

She sighed wearily. "She wanted us to move back home."

"With Mel?" he asked, frowning in confusion.

"With my parents," she practically ground out.

"And you said …" he prodded, waiting to hear what her response had been.

She dropped her eyes to where her fingers were playing with a button on her cardigan. "I guess I thought they'd finally come around," she admitted. "That maybe they'd finally realized I'm still their daughter, regardless of the fact that I'm a lesbian."

Brian only nodded, knowing from her demeanour that things hadn't worked out like she'd hoped.

"The first night I was there, my mother was already playing matchmaker," she told him.

"That's what parents do," he intoned. "They're not happy until they have their children paired off for the rest of their natural lives."

"She invited a blind date to dinner … a male blind date."

Brian stared at her in surprise for a second before barking a harsh laugh. "Don't tell me, she knew about you and the infamous artiste."

"I'm glad I was able to provide you with your daily amusement," she said icily.

"So, what did you tell the misinformed young man?" he asked, trying to make up for his comment.

"That I was a lesbian, what else?" she answered, lifting her chin a fraction of an inch. "Of course, as it turned out, my mother had failed to tell him that little bit of information."

"Of course."

She was silent for a moment, the button once again holding her gaze. "I was such a fool. I really thought maybe they'd changed. Instead, I learn that they thought my ten year relationship with Melanie was merely a distasteful phase that I'd finally grown out of."

"That's fucked," he said simply, not knowing any appropriate words of comfort.

"Anyway," she said, taking a deep breath and straightening her posture. "I obviously couldn't stay there, so I moved back into the house with Mel."

The questioning expression he wore spoke volumes.

"It's not what you think," she informed him with a wry laugh. "We're not together."

"Just living together," he tried to clarify.

"It seemed like a viable solution at the time, but …"

"But.?" he prompted when her voice trailed off.

"She's dating," she said quietly. Looking up, she met his expectant expression with an angry one of her own. "I thought I'd be ok with it, but I'm not. I opened the door the other night and saw them kissing. I wanted to tear her face off."

"Mel's?"

"Mel's, Corrinne's it didn't really matter at the time."

He nodded once in comprehension. "So, now what?"

"I need to find another place to live. And I have, I think," she added quickly. "There's an apartment over on Lincoln that would be perfect."

"That's what you said about the last one," he reminded her.

"This is different. It's the lower half of a beautiful old house. We'd have a lot more room and Gus would have a real yard to play in."

"So what's the problem?" he asked.

"The rent is nearly twice what I was paying for the other apartment."

Realization dawned in the hazel eyes. "I see."

"You did offer to help with the last place," she reminded him quietly.

"And you turned me down flat," he replied.

"Well, now I'd like to take you up on it, if I can," she said, a slight hesitation in her voice.

He reached for a cheque book. "How much?"

"Don't you even want to see it first?"

He shrugged. "If you like it, that's good enough for me."

"I have an appointment to go see it this evening," she informed him cautiously. "I thought maybe you'd agree to come with me."

"Tonight?" he asked, his reluctance obvious.

"When you said you wanted to play a bigger role in Gus' life, I thought that might include showing an interest in where we live," she said, her tone once again icy. "Or was that all bullshit?"

He glanced over at where Gus was still drawing happily. With a sigh, he turned back to face the woman at his side. "What time?"

"Seven," she said with a smile. "Thank you, Brian. You don't know how much this means to me."

He just shrugged uncomfortably and got to his feet as she did the same. She retrieved Gus from his spot at the desk and bundled him into his jacket. "I just know you're going to love it," she was saying to Brian. "I'll have to pay first and last month's rent and the first month's utilities up front."

He nodded. "I'll bring the cheque book."

She finished with Gus' jacket and stood, leaning in to kiss Brian's cheek. "Thank you," she said with a smile. "I'm proud to have you as Gus' father, even though I don't say it often enough."

He nodded subtly. "I'll pick you up around 6:45."

She smiled and nodded.

"Bye, Daddy," Gus said, hugging his father.

"Bye, Sonny Boy," Brian returned with a soft smile.

Once they'd left the office, he sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking at the clock. He still had a few more hours work before he could leave for the day, the new Henderson contract being top priority. He'd promised old Mr. Henderson that he'd have two campaigns mocked up by the end of next week. He'd be lucky if he finished all he needed to do before it was time to go look at Lindsay's apartment. He lowered himself into the chair Gus had recently vacated and picked up the phone, dialing the loft number only to get the machine. Without leaving a message, he disconnected the call and hit the number for Justin's cell. Straight to voicemail. He sighed. "Hey. I won't be home 'till later. Lindsay needs my help with something. I don't know how long it will take, so go ahead and eat if you're hungry. If there's anything left, I'll eat when I get home. Later."

He hung up the phone and sat looking at it for a moment before turning his attention once again to the Henderson account.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was close to six by the time Justin returned to the empty loft. He'd hoped Brian would be there, but wasn't too surprised to find he wasn't. He wanted to know how things had gone with Henderson but he was also anxious to share his own news. While his wasn't at the celebratory stage yet, he was wholly expecting Brian to tell him he'd landed the account. Hopefully, that would be cause for a celebration dinner or at the very least, a celebration fuck. Either way, he'd be happy.

He was still wearing a smirk when the buzzer sounded. "Yeah," he said into the intercom.

"Hey," came a familiar voice.

"Come on up," he said with a smile. Releasing the intercom button, he slid the door open and waited for his best friend to show on the landing.

"You're not easy to track down these days, are you?" she teased. "I had more luck getting in touch with you when you were living in California."

"I was out today," he said, closing the door behind her.

"I left like three messages on your voicemail," she informed him with a pointed look.

"Shit," he muttered, reaching into his pocket to extract his cell phone. "I turned it off during the interview and forgot to turn it back on."

"Interview?" she repeated, making herself at home on the sofa. "What interview?"

He held up a finger while he retrieved his messages, rolling his eyes as his friend's voice got increasingly annoyed with each one she'd left. "Bitch," he teased.

She merely stuck out her tongue as he continued to monitor the remaining messages.

"Shit," he muttered as he retrieved the last one and hit the off button.

"Something wrong?"

"Brian's going to be late. He had to help Lindsay with something."

She shrugged and curled into the corner of the sofa, making herself comfortable. "It's not like it's the first time he's been late. At least he called."

"But I wanted to tell him my news," Justin said, his voice betraying his disappointment.

"Uh, hello? Best friend here," she said, waving her hand in the air to get his attention. "Tell me."

He smiled and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa facing her. "I was taking my resume around and I stumbled upon the greatest job."

"Do tell," she enthused, leaning forward, legs crossed on one of the expensive leather cushions.

"I didn't think I had a hope in Hell of getting anything good, you know? I mean, it would only be temporary and I don't actually have my degree or anything."

She raised her eyebrows disapprovingly on the off chance that he might have forgotten how she felt about that. She'd been trying to get him to go back to school almost as hard as Brian had.

He dismissed the look with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, I thought I might as well drop some resumes off at the major Graphic Design places in town, even though I wasn't expecting much of a response. Most of them told me exactly what I expected, that they didn't hire without a college degree in the arts and definitely not on such a short term basis."

She frowned. "So, then, why all the excitement?"

"Artex Designs," he beamed. "Seems one of their art guys just had a heart attack and will be off for a few months. I got a chance to speak to the owner himself and he agreed to give me an interview on the spot."

Her frown only deepened. "Even though you're not a college graduate?"

His responding look had a tinge of smugness to it. "He was impressed with my portfolio and said it's sometimes more advantageous to hire people who haven't been conditioned through the education system. That way, he can train them the way he wants without having to untrain them first."

Daphne's smile rivaled Justin's best. "In that case, I think it's great. Congratulations!"

"I don't actually have the job yet," he cautioned, "but he did say he was very impressed with me and that he'd let me know by the end of next week."

"Of course you'll get it," she assured him, pushing his shoulder with one hand. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks," he replied with a bright smile. "It's only for a few months, but it will be good experience to let me know if that's the kind of career I'm interested in. By the time the other guy gets back, it'll be time for me to start school anyway."

"Sounds like you lucked out," she laughed.

The buzzer sounded and Justin jumped up to answer. "Yeah?"

"It's me, Michael."

"Come on up," Justin said, rolling his eyes. As if he couldn't recognize Michael's voice after all this time.

"Brian won't be home for dinner," he said as he pulled open the heavy door. "What do you say we go out and grab some pizza or something?"

"Sounds great," Daphne agreed with a nod. Anything else she was going to say was postponed when Michael arrived on the landing.

"Hey," he said, glancing briefly in Daphne's direction. Focusing a cool gaze on Justin, he added, "Is Brian here?"

"No, he had to do something for Lindsay," Justin explained. "Anything I can help you with?"

Michael's snort of disbelief didn't go unnoticed by either of the other two people in the room, but they said nothing. "No. I just came to drop this off. He left it at my place last night."

Justin took the tie from Michael's outstretched hand and frowned slightly. "Ok, I'll make sure he gets it." He glanced at Daphne. "We were just going out for pizza; would you like to join us?"

"I don't think so," Michael replied with a bit of a scowl.

"Is something wrong, Michael?" Justin asked.

Michael looked like he was about to say something, but another quick glance at Daphne seemed to change his mind. "Nothing that's of any concern to you," he said instead. "Tell Brian I stopped by and that I need to talk to him."

Justin nodded. "I will."

"See ya." Without another word, Michael turned and left the loft.

"What was that all about?" Daphne asked, frowning.

Justin was looking at the tie in his hands. "I'm not sure," he said truthfully.

"Well," she exclaimed getting to her feet. "I'm starving and you promised me pizza so get that cute little ass of yours in gear, mister."

He was deep in thought as he placed the tie on the counter. "Yeah," he said, obviously distracted. "Let's go."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Lindsay was practically beaming as they pulled up in front of the house she was once again, temporarily, sharing with Mel.

"It's going to be so perfect," she gushed. "Thank you so much, Brian."

He smiled indulgently. "I can't have my son growing up in a hovel, now, can I?"

"Do you want to come in?"

"Can I show Daddy my new truck?"

Brian turned around to where Gus was buckled in the back seat. "You have a new truck, Sonny Boy?"

"Yep," he replied with a happy nod. "It's red."

Brian looked at Lindsay.

"A gift from his grandfather when we moved back home," she said, tight-lipped.

"At least he didn't take it back when you refused to follow the script."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, Gus, I'll come in and see your new truck."

He'd shown the appropriate admiration for the new toy and was sitting on the floor playing with it, much to the delight of his young son, when Lindsay reluctantly had to put an end to the quaint scene.

"Say good night to Daddy, Gus," she instructed him. "It's time to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed."

Gus pouted for a moment, but then did as he was told, putting the truck away before approaching Brian for a hug. "Night, Daddy."

"Night, Sonny Boy," Brian answered, hugging him close. "You be a good boy for Mommy, you hear?"

He nodded, a big grin on his face, before heading up the stairs.

"You're good with him," Lindsay commented with a smile.

He shrugged uncomfortably. "He's a good kid."

"Yeah, he is," she agreed with a nod as she walked him toward the door. "Thanks again, Brian, and be sure to give Justin our love. We'll have to have the two of you over for dinner once we move into the new place."

He nodded. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Kissing his cheek, she smiled. "I will. Thank you."

She was still smiling as she watched him get into the car and head off in the direction of the loft.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 5

It was shortly after nine when Brian reached the loft. Glancing around the empty space, he thought Justin was out. It was the sound of the shower running that brought a smile to his lips. He would never admit it aloud, but he liked coming home to someone at the end of the day. Asking Justin to move back in was one of the best decisions he'd ever made. He dropped his briefcase off at his desk and headed toward the bedroom, just in time to hear the running water stop. His suit jacket was hung up and he was loosening his tie when a towel-clad Justin emerged from the bathroom.

"Jesus, Brian," he exclaimed on a breath. "You scared the shit out of me."

He felt a little bad about that, knowing that he could have called out a greeting to make his presence known. "Sorry," he offered, closing the distance between them to slip his arms around the warm, damp body of his lover. "A couple more minutes and I could have joined you."

Justin smiled, returned the embrace and offered his partner a proper welcome home kiss. "Mmm," he murmured once they parted. "I'll keep that in mind for later."

"You'd better," Brian said, depositing a playful swat on the cotton-covered ass before turning away to finish changing his clothes.

"Everything OK with Lindsay?"

He nodded. "She's moving into a new place and wanted me to go with her to look at it."

"That's it?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"You were hoping for something more serious?"

"Of course not. I'm just surprised she'd suddenly want your opinion. You hated her last apartment and that didn't seem to matter to her."

"Yeah, well, she could afford that one herself. I guess she figured since I'd be footing half the bill for the new one, I should at least see what I'm paying for."

"And how did things go with Henderson?" Justin asked, flopping down on the bed and watching the other man change.

Brian flashed him a crooked smile over his shoulder. "Weren't you the one who told me it was in the bag?"

Justin sat up quickly, his grin wide. "You got it?"

"You doubted it?" A teasing smirk.

He was on his feet again, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist from behind. "Not for a second," he admitted, kissing a bare shoulder. "But it's still great news."

Brian turned to face him, shirt in hand, and kissed him lightly. "Yeah, it is, but it's going to mean a shitload of work for the next month or so."

"Anything I can help with?"

He was silent for a moment. "It's all under control," he finally said.

"While we're on the subject of good news, I may have some of my own," Justin announced with a smile. "Are you familiar with Artex Designs?"

Brian frowned slightly. "Dwight Matherson."

"You know him?"

"I know enough," Brian replied. "So, on with the news."

"I went to drop off a resume and he was in the office talking to the receptionist. Not only did I get a chance to meet him, but when he heard I was looking for a job, he invited me right into his office for an interview."

Brian snorted. "I'll bet he did."

The smile faded from Justin's features. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head lightly. "Nothing. Go on."

While he did continue, it was with a modicum of wariness. "One of the guys in his art department had a heart attack. He'll be out for a few months and Dwight's looking for someone who can fill in for a while. Isn't that great? It's in my field, and it's only temporary so I'll be done by the time classes start."

"Really," Brian said skeptically. "And what if this guy never comes back? What if the stress is too much for him and he decides to go into another line of work or just retire altogether?"

Justin shrugged. "What if he does?"

"Matherson's not stupid, Justin. He's bound to see what a value you'd be to his business and he's going to do everything in his power to keep you there."

"First, I don't even have the job yet," Justin reminded him, "He's still looking at resumes but he said I'd know for sure by the end of next week. And second, I <i>am</i> going back to school. I made it perfectly clear that I wouldn't be able to work past Christmas, no matter what happens with this other guy."

"Let's hope you still feel that way at Christmas," Brian intoned, moving away and pulling on his shirt. "Is there any dinner left?"

Justin was silent for a moment as he contemplated the change in his lover's mood. "Daphne and I went out for pizza." He had to smile a little at the look of distaste Brian threw his way. "But I brought you home a chicken salad."

Nodding his appreciation, Brian headed to the fridge and retrieved the food and two bottles of beer. He handed one to Justin as he passed him on the way to the table.

Justin waited until he was seated and had begun to eat before he ventured toward the table, taking the seat opposite. "I get the impression you're less than thrilled with the idea."

Brian's gaze rose to hold Justin's for a moment before dropping back to the food before him. "I can't tell you what to do."

"No," Justin agreed, drawing the word out slowly, "but you're my partner. If there's something bothering you, I'd like to hear it."

He sighed inwardly. How could he possibly explain how he was feeling when he couldn't really rationalize it to himself? He didn't really know Dwight Matherson, after all. He'd been at the Kinnetik opening, as had many of the city's prominent businessmen, but Brian hadn't really talked to him except for the necessary business small talk. He had, however, caught him checking Justin out on more than one occasion during the course of the evening. He'd found it rather amusing at the time, knowing Matherson didn't stand a snowball's chance in Hell.

It didn't seem quite so funny now.

If he told Justin, he might think Brian was questioning whether he'd been offered the opportunity based on his artistic merits. Matherson's firm was highly successful; he obviously knew talent when he saw it. Maybe he didn't even remember Justin from the opening. Of course, if he'd been attracted then …

"Brian?"

He pulled himself from his thoughts with a small frown. "Just be careful."

"It's a job, not a tour of duty."

He put his fork down and leaned back in the chair, his gaze fixed steadily on the man across from him. "Matherson didn't get where he is by being stupid," he said. "He knows you're talented, but he also knows you never finished school. He probably thinks he can get away with paying you less than he would someone with a degree."

"I won't accept it unless it's fair," Justin tried to placate him. "Working at Kinnetik taught me the value of my work." He paused with a teasing smile. "Unless, of course, you were paying me more than it's worth because of my other … talents."

Brian rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small smile of his own. "Trust me, I pay for those other talents of yours in many ways, but monetarily isn't one of them."

He smiled, glad that the mood seemed to be lightening somewhat. "And I promise, I'll go over all the particulars with you before I accept the job."

Brian considered that for a moment before nodding once. "And school?"

"Winter term starts after the Christmas break. I'll be there front and centre, ready to take the world of academia by storm."

"If you were working at Kinnetik, I'd be able to fire your ass and make sure you had a good reason to go back."

"But it wouldn't feel like my own money," Justin repeated. "I was thinking, maybe we could open a joint account. I'll put in half of my pay each week and you can match it. Then, we can pay all the monthly household bills out of there."

"Are you serious?" Brian asked with a bit of a grimace.

"Why not?" He frowned. "I want to contribute, Brian. We live here together, remember? I want to pay my own way."

"What about when you start back to school? Who picks up the tab then?"

He shrugged slightly. "If I put the money I made working on Rage in there, then it should cover my share until I'm done school."

"That's your money, Justin. I don't want to use it to pay for the fucking electricity."

Justin could tell that he was getting annoyed, but wasn't about to give in. "But it's OK to use yours? That's fucked, Brian."

"I make more," he said without hesitation. "It only makes sense."

"Not to me. Just because I don't make as much doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to contribute what I can."

Brian rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled wearily. "Look, the bills are set up to come out of the general account every month. It'll be a pain in the ass to switch them over, so let's just leave things as they are. You can contribute other ways."

Justin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Such as?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Pay for the fucking groceries or something."

Justin scoffed. "Yeah, right. You eat like, what, five dollars worth of food a week?"

"So, that should make it even easier," Brian smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't want easy, Brian. If I did, I sure as Hell wouldn't be here. What I want is for us to be equal partners."

"We are."

"Bullshit. You're still paying all the bills, running the whole show."

"I'm not trying to run anything. The bills are already taken care of; it just makes more sense..."

"Yeah, I get it. It makes more sense to leave things as they are. Maybe it would have made more sense if I'd stayed living at Daphne's. Then you wouldn't have to deal with me at all. You could just call me over when you wanted to fuck."

With that, he pushed his chair back from the table and stormed into the bathroom.

"Fuck," Brian breathed, running a hand irritably through his hair. He didn't need this right now. Pushing the plate of food away from him, he got up and followed his angry lover. "Look," he began, standing in the doorway. "You know I wouldn't have asked you to move in if it wasn't what I wanted."

Justin turned with a tired sigh. "I know," he admitted.

Brian opened his arms and waited until Justin stepped into the embrace. "I'm so used to looking after everything myself that I didn't stop to think how that might make you feel. If you want a joint bank account to pay the household bills, we'll set one up."

He looked up with a hopeful expression. "Really?"

He shrugged. "It's still going to be a pain in the ass to change everything over, but if that's what it takes to make you feel like an equal partner in this..."

"Relationship," Justin teased.

"Relationship." Brian feigned a put-upon sigh. "Then that's what we'll do."

He reached up and placed a soft kiss on his lover's lips. "Thank you."

"You can thank me later," Brian replied with a smirk. "Right now, I'd like to finish my dinner. That is, if the floor show is over."

They returned to the table and Brian resumed his dinner. Silence reigned for a few moments while Justin watched him eat. "Does this mean you've changed your mind about not wanting me to take this job?"

He bit back a tired sigh. "I never said I didn't want you to take the job,"

"You didn't have to. It's been pretty obvious to me since I first mentioned it."

He finished what he wanted and put his fork down, pushing the plate away. "What do you want me to say, Justin?"

"I want you to tell me why."

"Why what?"

"The obtuse act isn't as charming as you might think." He was getting annoyed again. "If it's not the idea of me getting a job in general, then what? This particular job? The fact that I'd be working for someone other than you? Talk to me, Brian."

He sighed. "Do we really have to do this now? I have enough shit to deal with at the moment."

Justin frowned. "I didn't realize my life was shit."

"Don't put words in my mouth, Justin. That's not what I meant and you know it."

He sighed in mild irritation. "Ok, fine. Tell me about this shit you have to deal with."

Brian wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "It doesn't concern you."

"You're the one who brought it into our conversation."

"And now I'm taking it out."

"Too late. It's not like I don't know something's been bothering you."

"Then you should know enough to leave it alone."

"It's Michael, isn't it? You've been acting weird since he showed up here the day we got home and he's been acting like an asshole around me. Why can't you just tell me what's going on?"

"Because, I can't," Brian said hotly. "So just fucking drop it, will you?"

Justin looked at him for a long moment. There was a hint of warning in the hazel eyes he knew so well. "Consider it dropped," he finally said dully. Without another word he got up from the table and disappeared into the bedroom.

A few minutes later he heard the distinct sounds of Brian leaving the loft. "Fuck," he muttered, flopping wearily onto the bed.

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Brian exited the building and stood there for a moment. He knew it wasn't fair to tell Justin to back off, especially since he knew it was obvious to his lover that there was something on his mind, but he'd promised Mikey he wouldn't tell. He glanced back at the door, part of him wanting to go back up but an even greater part knowing that, if he did, he'd either be faced with Justin's cold silence or relentless questioning. Both had the potential to lead to an argument that he just wasn't up to dealing with at the moment. Neither was he even remotely interested in losing himself in the sea of warm, willing bodies at Babylon, a fact which surprised him somewhat. Michael was out of the question. Lindsay would be as unrelenting in her questions as Justin.

There was only one place he could think of where he'd be allowed the luxury of being alone with his thoughts. With a sigh, he headed for the car, glad that he'd chosen the sofa in his office for comfort as well as its aesthetic appeal.

No doubt his leaving would generate the sort of argument he was presently trying to avoid, but that was something he'd be able to deal with another time.

Just not at the moment.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 6

Justin awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. He groaned and rolled over, hoping that Brian would pick it up and cursed softly when that proved futile. Reaching blindly toward the nightstand, he snatched the annoying object from the cradle.

"Hello."

"Justin Taylor?"

"Yeah."

"Dwight Matherson."

Justin was immediately awake. "Mr. Matherson. Hi."

"I told you, call me Dwight. Listen, I've given it some thought and would like to know if you'd like to come in this afternoon."

"Come in?"

"I thought perhaps you'd like to see how the business runs, get a feel for the place. At the same time, I'll see how you interact with the rest of the staff and it will aid in making my final decision."

"Oh," he replied, slightly disappointed. "Um, yeah, that would be great."

"Good. If you come in around one, I'll have a chance to show you around a bit before the others get back from lunch."

"Sure, one sounds good."

"See you then."

"Bye."

Justin hung up the phone and flopped back onto the pillow with a small smile. Though he didn't actually have the job yet, he thought it was probably a good sign that Dwight wanted to show him around the place. He could hardly wait to tell Brian.

He frowned at the thought. Brian obviously wasn't keen on him taking this job. He only wished he knew why. When he'd tried to press for answers, Brian had as much as told him that he had other, more important things to deal with at the moment.

It was those other, more important things that had Justin concerned.

With a groan, he scrubbed one hand over his face and looked over at the clock. Nine a.m. Brian must have already left for work without even waking him. He rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. After relieving himself and washing his hands, he exited the room and headed for the kitchen for a glass of juice, frowning as he caught sight of Brian's briefcase still sitting on the floor beside his desk. Returning to the bathroom, he looked into the shower. Dry.

Brian hadn't been home since he'd left the night before.

The sound of the buzzer pulled him out of his thoughts and he headed for the intercom. "Yeah?"

"Justin? It's me, Cynthia."

"Come on up."

He held the button for a moment and then slid the heavy door open. A couple of minutes later, Cynthia appeared on the landing. "Good morning," she said with an uneasy smile.

"Morning," he returned the greeting, stepping aside to allow her entrance. "Can I get you some juice or coffee or something?"

"Um,.. no thanks. Brian asked me to drop by and pick up his briefcase."

He took note of the way she avoided making eye contact and knew she was aware that Brian hadn't spent the night at home. "Sure," he said with a small sigh. "It's right here; I'll get it."

He handed her the briefcase and she hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "And, uh… his grey suit and red shirt."

Justin clenched his jaw, but nodded in understanding. Without a word, he went to the bedroom and retrieved the items, along with a clean pair of socks, underwear and shoes. He put the smaller items into a leather duffle and carried them to the door with the two hangers. "Anything else?" He realized his tone was cold and instantly regretted using it on Cynthia.

"Um, no, that should do it," she said, offering a nervous smile. "Thanks. Have a good day."

"You, too," he said, offering a smile of his own to make up for his earlier attitude. She seemed to relax as she nodded and headed for the door.

Once she was gone, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "A good day my ass," he muttered.

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Michael looked up when he heard the bell over the door, only to frown when he saw who it was entering the store.

"Hey," Justin greeted him with a smile.

"Hey."

He frowned slightly at the glum greeting. "I have an appointment at one, I thought maybe we could grab some lunch and discuss the next issue."

"I haven't decided if there's going to be a next issue," Michael informed him coldly.

"Ok," Justin said slowly, obviously confused. "But shouldn't that be a decision we make together?"

"It was my idea to start it in the first place. If I don't want to do another issue, that's my choice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have stock to count in the back."

Justin watched as he turned around and disappeared into the small stock room. When he didn't reappear after a few moments, he followed him. "What the Hell is your problem, Michael?"

"What makes you think I have a problem?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe your attitude? I know it sucks that the movie got cancelled, but …"

"You don't know shit," Michael replied, his expression angry. "So why don't you just go and do whatever it is you need to do and leave me the Hell alone."

The last thing he was in the mood for at the moment was Michael with a bug up his ass. "Fine," he said shortly. "<i>If</i> you decide you want to do another issue, give me a call." With that, he turned and walked out of the store.

The way Michael was acting, Justin thought he would have delighted in letting him know that Brian had spent the night at his place. At the very least, he would have made it clear that he was taking Brian's side in the disagreement. He'd done neither, leading Justin to believe that he hadn't seen Brian since he'd left the loft. It was obvious he wasn't going to get any clues from Michael that would help him determine how best to deal with his irritable lover.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He might not know where Brian spent the night, but he knew exactly where to find him at the moment.

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He approached Cynthia's desk with what he hoped was a convincing smile. "Hello again," he greeted her. "Is he in?"

"He's between meetings," she answered nodding toward the door to indicate he should go on in.

Upon entering the large office, he found Brian sitting behind his desk with a sheaf of papers. "Hey."

Brian looked up, his expression carefully cloaked in a mask of indifference. "Hey."

"About last night," Justin began. "You were right. I shouldn't have pushed and I'm sorry."

Brian looked up again and studied his face for a moment before looking back down at the work in front of him. "Ok."

It wasn't exactly the response he'd been hoping for, but he knew it could have been much worse. "I, uh, have an appointment with Dwight Matherson this afternoon," he offered. "Just to check the place out and see how I get along with the other employees."

"Plays nice with others," Brian murmured. "Should have put that on your resume."

"If you really don't want me to take this job, I won't," Justin informed him, "provided, of course, you can give me a good enough reason."

Brian looked up once again. After a moment of silence, he said, "Do what you want, Justin. It's your life."

"What about our life?" Justin asked without flinching.

A raised eyebrow was his only response.

"If this is going to make things miserable between us, I don't want it."

Brian sighed. "Why don't we wait and see if you get the job before we fight about it, shall we?"

"We're already fighting about it," Justin pointed out.

"As I recall, it wasn't the job that was the main point of contention."

"You're right. It was me trying to get you to talk about something you obviously don't want to talk about. I had no right to expect an explanation."

Brian forced a small smile. "Well, then, there we have it."

Justin frowned in confusion. "There we have what?"

He breathed a heavy, irritated sigh. "Look, I've got a shitload of work to do here and another meeting in twenty minutes. I don't have time for this shit."

Justin felt his anger building. First Michael and now this. "You seem to have plenty of time for Michael and Lindsay. Let me know when you think you might be able to squeeze me in." Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the office.

Brian threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh. What the Hell was he supposed to do? Michael needed him at the moment, both his friendship and his confidence. Lindsay was dealing with the end of her relationship with Mel and Gus factored heavily into that. He wanted things to go as smoothly as possible for his son's sake and if helping Lindsay would aid in that, then that was what he was determined to do.

As he thought about Justin's words, he was finally able to identify the unfamiliar feeling that had been plaguing him since Justin's return from California. As much as Michael and Lindsay needed him at the moment, Justin didn't seem to. He didn't need Brian to take care of him. He was determined to pay his own way, to share the expenses in the loft that Brian had always shouldered alone without thought or complaint. He was making his own choices, regardless of the fact that they might not be choices Brian agreed with.

In short, he was no longer the twink who craved Brian's attention and acceptance, who relied on him for a roof over his head and food on the table.

And for reasons he couldn't quite define, that realization was making him increasingly uncomfortable.

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"This is where you'll be working," Dwight pointed out. "If you get the job, of course."

"Of course," Justin said with a smile as he wandered around the art department. "You have some good equipment here," he said, impressed with the tools he'd have at his disposal.

"You can't turn out the best work with substandard resources," Dwight proclaimed.

"How many people would I be working with?"

As though on cue, three people entered the room, chatting amicably amongst themselves.

Dwight made the introductions and stood back while Ken, the head of his art department, showed Justin some of the things they were working on. He was pleased with the easy way Justin got along with the other employees and impressed with some of the suggestions the young man made.

"I'd scoop this one up in a heartbeat," Ken informed Dwight with a genuine smile. "He knows his stuff."

"So I see," Dwight chuckled. "Justin, I think we'd best let them get back to work. If you have a moment, I'd like to speak with you in my office."

"Of course," Justin replied with a smile. He politely shook hands with the three employees before following Dwight out of the room and down the hall to a spacious office.

"Have a seat," Dwight offered as he moved around to take his own on the far side of a large desk. "I must say, Justin, I'm quite impressed."

"Thank you," Justin said with a smile. "You run a very impressive business yourself."

Dwight smiled and picked up the resume before him. He looked at it for a moment before replacing it on the desk and leaning back in his chair. "I do have some concerns, however."

Justin nodded slowly. "And they would be?"

A lazy smile crossed the other man's face. "Whether I'd rather hire you or ask you out."

It took a moment for the words to register. When they did, Justin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Excuse me?"

Dwight laughed, a deep, confident sound. "Relax, Justin. I'm not about to do or say anything that's going to land me with a sexual harassment suit. We're both adults, here. I've seen you around and I like what I see. You're attractive, intelligent and extremely talented. I'd like to get to know you better."

He couldn't believe he was hearing this. "I ... uh...Mr. Matherson..."

"Dwight," he corrected casually.

Justin looked at him for a moment before continuing. "Mr. Matherson, I'm flattered, but I'm not interested in anything other than the job. I have a partner."

Dwight smiled. "Brian Kinney."

"Yes."

"Forgive me; I didn't realize the two of you were monogamous."

There was hint of challenge in the tone and Justin suspected he knew exactly how monogamous they were. "We're not," he said evenly. "Just discerning."

He'd expected the comment to get him thrown out of the office and was somewhat surprised when Dwight's smile reflected genuine amusement.

"I'm glad to hear that, Justin."

Justin got to his feet. "Well, I guess this interview is over."

Dwight waved a hand at the chair the younger man stood in front of. "Please, sit down."

Warily, Justin lowered himself once more into the chair, watching as Dwight seemed to study him for a moment before speaking.

"Telling you I've never before hit on a prospective employee won't convince you that it's true, so rather than waste your time and mine, I'll get straight to the point. I'm a business man, Justin, a successful, confident one. I'm not your stalker type, nor am I one to deal in coy signals, hoping you'll pick up on my interest. I saw you, I liked you, I asked you out. That's how I work. You obviously don't share my interest and I can respect that. I've never had need to force my attentions on anyone and I'm not about to start now. As far as I'm concerned, the matter is closed."

Justin nodded and went to rise again, only to have Dwight stop him with a wave of his hand.

"You're still looking for a job, however, and I'm still in need of a talented artist."

Justin's confused frown brought forth another smile from the older man.

"I'm sure you can understand that my pride would never allow for me to ask you out a second time," he teased, trying to ease the other man's mind. "Once you leave this office today, the subject will never come up again. You have my word."

Justin nodded in acceptance. "Thank you."

"I still have resumes to look at, but I suspect that will prove to be a mere formality at this point. I like your style, Justin. Knowing how much you want this job, you could easily have used my interest as a means to secure it. I'd rather work with someone who values honesty and integrity in much the same way I do." He got to his feet and extended his hand. "You'll be hearing from me by the end of the week if you're still interested."

Justin rose and returned the handshake. "The job still interests me a great deal."

Dwight didn't miss the subtle emphasis on the second word and nodded with a smile. "Point taken. I'll be in touch."

"Thank you." Justin offered a smile and turned to head out of the office. Only once he was in the elevator with the doors closed did he let out a relieved breath. "Fuck," he muttered as he rode toward the ground floor.

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Brian let himself into an empty loft. He sighed, admitting, if only to himself, that he'd been hoping Justin would be there. It had been a while since things were so tense between them and he didn't like the uneasy feeling that left him with.

He didn't like it at all.

It was obvious, even to someone as studiously uncommunicative as he was, that they needed to talk. But what could they possibly have to say that they didn't already know?

He was saved from having to answer that internal line of questioning by the sound of knocking.

"You're home," Michael said with a frown once Brian had opened the door.

"And you've once again mastered the art of stating the obvious," Brian said dryly.

"Didn't you know I wanted to talk to you? That little shit didn't give you the message, did he?"

"If you're referring to Justin," Brian said, stressing his lover's name, "then no, he didn't. Of course, the reason could be that we've barely had ten minutes together since we got home."

"I'm sure he could have found a couple of seconds to pass on a message," Michael grumbled.

"Well, you're here now," Brian offered a feigned smile. "What's so important?"

Michael immediately looked uncomfortable. "I just wanted to say …well, you know … to apologize for the other night. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just …" He shrugged, letting the rest of the apology trail off.

"Forget it," Brian said dismissively, heading to the fridge. He grabbed two beers but then remembered Michael's meds and exchanged them for bottles of water. He handed one to his friend and proceeded to uncap the one he still held.

"I haven't exactly been myself," Michael said, after taking a long drink.

"I guess that's to be expected," Brian offered charitably. "I didn't take it personally."

He offered a wan smile. "Thanks. I'm glad. I really did appreciate you staying. I know you probably had plans with Justin. I'm sorry you had to change them."

"I didn't have to," Brian corrected, his voice getting softer. "I wanted to. I'll always be there for you, Mikey. You know that, right?"

"I know that," he replied with a nod and a small smile. "Always have."

"Always will," Brian finished.

They were silent for a moment, unwilling to get any more emotional. "So, how are things with Ben?"

Michael sighed. "Nothing's changed. We haven't had sex since it happened. It's like he's blaming himself, or punishing me, I'm not sure which."

"Christ, it's not like it was planned."

"I know that and you know that, but Ben is still devastated. Thank God no one else knows. I don't know if I could handle their pity right now, or their anger."

"You're not the one they'd be angry with."

"That wouldn't make it any easier," he replied irritably. Regretting the harsh tone, he raised sorrowful brown eyes to his best friend. "What if Ben never gets over this? I don't want to lose him."

He had no answer for that except to pull the other man into a hug. "I know," he admitted quietly.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin had left Artex Designs feeling conflicted about his prospective boss. He'd been excited about the job, but that was before he realized the man had a personal interest in him. Would that make working together too uncomfortable? Or was it as Dwight had said, a closed matter that wouldn't be rearing its head again? And then there was Brian. Did he dare tell him, knowing how he already seemed to feel about Justin taking the job?

Deciding that he really needed a second opinion concerning his dilemma, he headed for the one place he knew he'd find an objective one.

Half an hour later, he was pacing in Daphne's dorm room, recounting all that had transpired in Dwight's office.

"And then I left," he said, flopping onto the sofa. "I don't know what to think now."

Daphne handed him a beer and sat down beside him. "I don't see the big deal. He asked you out, you turned him down, end of story. It doesn't sound as though he took the rejection all that badly."

"He didn't," Justin agreed with a frown. "Maybe that's what worries me."

"What? You afraid he's going to go all 'Fatal Attraction' on you?" she teased.

He glared at her mischievous expression. "Ha ha. I'm glad my misery is such a source of amusement."

"Check your tiara at the door," she retorted. "You should be flattered. Having a rich, successful, hot... he is hot, right?"

Justin shrugged indifferently, but couldn't hold back a smile. "Yeah."

She nodded. "Having a rich, successful hot guy ask you out is not cause for misery. Hell, in my case, It'd be cause for the biggest celebration Pittsburgh has ever seen." She frowned slightly. "Of course, all the rich, successful, hot guys I know are gay. Why is that?"

"Good taste is part of the package," he teased, wincing when she punched him in the shoulder.

"Anyway," she went on. "Like I said, I don't see the big deal. It sounds like he was mature about it. He let you know he was interested, you let him know you weren't, why can't that just be the end of it?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't you think working with him now could get a little... weird?"

"Only if you let it," she said without hesitation. "Surely you've had guys hit on you before." She rolled her eyes at the incredulous look he shot in her direction. "Hey, you're cute, not irresistable."

"I'm not cute."

"You so are," she laughed. "And you know it."

He blushed slightly and shrugged.

"So, if you get the job, you go to work and forget about what happened today. With any luck, he does the same. If not, then you can always quit. I don't see the tragedy here."

"The tragedy comes when I tell Brian," he pointed out.

"Why tell him?"

He considered that. He certainly didn't feel the need to tell Brian every time a guy hit on him. But this was different, wasn't it? This was someone Justin would be working with on a daily basis.

"If I don't, and he finds out later, he'll be pissed."

"How's he going to find out? You think Matherson is going to go up to him and say 'hey, Kinney, I like your boyfriend and asked him out.'?"

Justin snorted at the idea.

"Besides, there's really nothing worth telling at this point. If and when there is, you can tell him then."

"That's reassuring."

"Stop worrying. I'm sure it'll be fine."

He sighed. "Nothing's been fine since I got back here, Daph. Why should this be any different?"

She frowned. "Are things that bad?"

"We kinda had a fight. He left and didn't come home last night."

"I see."

He shrugged. "I thought he probably spent the night at Michael's but when I stopped by the comic shop this morning, I could tell he hadn't."

"Here's a thought, why don't you just <i>ask</i> him."

"He'd tell me it was none of my business." He was silent for a moment. "Maybe he's right."

She didn't like the sound of that. "Tell me what happened," she prodded gently.

He rubbed a hand over his face. "Something's bothering him and he won't tell me what it is. I pushed him too hard last night and he got mad and left."

"Maybe he'll tell you when he's ready."

He nodded. "Maybe. At any rate, I knew I shouldn't have insisted he talk to me, so I went to the office this afternoon and apologized."

"Oh," she said, slightly surprised. "And what did he say?"

"Ok."

"Ok?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, that's it. Ok. Then I told him about me going to Artex this afternoon and he told me he didn't have time for my shit. I told him to let me know when he could pencil me in and left."

She rolled her eyes. "How mature."

He made a face at her before continuing. "Michael or Lindsay call and he flies right over there. I want to talk to him and he doesn't have time. That's bullshit."

"Maybe Michael and Lindsay don't pressure him to talk."

"So you're saying I don't have a right to know what's going on with him?"

She sighed. "No. I'm saying, you have to give him some space. Be supportive, but don't nag him about it."

"I wasn't nagging."

"Ok, bad choice of words, but I know you. You know something's wrong and you want to fix it. But you know as well as I do that Brian's not going to just open up because you want him to. If he wants to tell you, he will. If not, you have to let him deal with whatever it is in his own way."

He considered that reluctantly. "So you're telling me to back off."

"More or less," she replied with a sheepish smile.

He sighed and got to his feet. "Fine. It's not like I was getting anywhere anyway. I'll leave him alone about it and he'll either tell me or he won't."

"Sometimes that's all you can do."

The smile he offered, while small, was the first genuine one he'd felt all day. "Thanks, Daph."

She hugged him tightly. "What are best friends for?" Kissing him on the cheek, she smiled. "Now, go home."

With another small smile, he left the dorm room.

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He was about to slide open the loft door when he heard the two familiar voices on the other side. If Michael was there, maybe it was best he didn't interrupt. Things weren't exactly friendly between them at the moment. He was still trying to decide his next move when a few choice words caught his attention.

"Christ, it's not like it was planned."

"I know that and you know that, but Ben is still devastated. Thank God no one else knows. I don't know if I could handle their pity right now, or their anger."

"You're not the one they'd be angry with."

"That wouldn't make it any easier. What if Ben never gets over this? I don't want to lose him."

Silence for a moment and then Brian's quiet reply. "I know."

His mind was racing. Why was Ben devastated? What hadn't been planned? Before his brain had a chance to absorb the questions, his body was moving, forgetting his desire not to interrupt in favour of the possibility that he might finally find out what was going on. The door slid open and he stepped inside, his eyes glued to the embracing figures before him. "Brian?" he ventured cautiously. "Is something wrong?"

Brian looked from Justin to Michael as though waiting for his friend to say something.

"It's none of your business," Michael said gruffly, having been released from Brian's embrace.

Justin looked at Brian, hoping for a more civil response.

"Justin..." he began, his expression looking tired and pained.

"I have to go," Michael interrupted quickly. "I'll talk to you later, Brian."

Brian turned to Michael with a frown. "I'll give you a ride," he said after a moment.

"You don't have to."

"I insist," he said, his tone brooking no argument.

Michael shrugged and headed toward the door without so much as another word to Justin.

Brian looked at his lover as though he was about to say something, but in the end, he simply touched the younger man's arm briefly before following his friend from the loft.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 7

The ride to Michael's apartment began in silence but it was only a few minutes before Brian got straight to the point.

"What the Hell is your problem with Justin all of a sudden?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Michael said sullenly.

"I'm talking about the fact that you've been a total asshole to him since he got back."

"Just because I don't feel the need to tell him every detail of my life doesn't make me an asshole," he retorted hotly. "It's none of his damned business and I told him so."

"He knows there's something going on and I won't lie to him for the next six months." They pulled up in front of the apartment and Brian turned to face him. "Not even for you, Mikey."

"Then don't," Michael snapped. "If I had known confiding in my best friend was going to be such a burden on him, I wouldn't have bothered."

Before Brian had a chance to reply, Michael was out of the car, slamming the door angrily behind him.

"Shit," Brian breathed, hitting the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. He considered going up to talk to Michael, even if it was just to reassure him that his secret was safe for as long as he wanted to keep it, but he doubted even that would be well received given his friend's current anger.

It was the truth, though. It wasn't his place to tell anyone else what was going on in Michael's life. He, himself, had tried to hide his illness from those closest to him. How could he condemn his best friend for wanting to do the same, especially before they knew, for sure, that there was anything to tell?

Of course, he was also painfully aware that his decision had come back to bite him in the ass. He'd practically thrown Justin out of his life for finding out and Justin had, in turn, read him the riot act for trying to keep it from him in the first place.

But this time it was different. It wasn't his own secret he was keeping, but his best friend's. It wasn't like he even had a choice in the matter. Not really. He'd given his word and there was no way he was going to betray Michael's trust. There was no doubt in his mind that Justin would understand that once everything was out in the open.

Not too much doubt, anyway.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin paced back and forth in the loft, running everything he'd heard over in his head. Something had happened. Something bad.

But what?

He scoured his memory for anything that might resemble a clue but was no closer to finding one when the phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered automatically.

"Justin? It's me, Brett."

"Brett," Justin replied, "Hey."

"How are you?"

Justin shrugged, knowing full well the other man couldn't see the gesture. "I've had better weeks. What's up?"

Brett hesitated only a few seconds, but it was enough to set Justin's already frazzled nerves on edge. God, now what?

"There's really no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just come out and say it. Richard's wife declined to accept the collection we took up."

Justin frowned. In lieu of flowers, everyone who'd worked on the movie had made a cash donation to be given to the widow. "I don't understand."

Brett sighed. "Her brother dropped off the check this afternoon. He seemed genuinely sorry, said the money could have really come in handy and that he appreciated the gesture, but she didn't want anything from anyone connected to the movie. He thinks she may come around once she's had time to deal with the grief, but for the moment, she was adamant that the money be returned. He had no choice but to respect her wishes."

"Of course," Justin said flatly. He wasn't so sure she'd come around, but he didn't say anything. Brett hadn't been there when she had all but accused Justin of killing her husband. Brett's voice brought him back to the present.

"I need to know what to do with your share. Do you want me to mail a check?"

Justin thought about it for a moment. "No. I don't want it."

"Some people took it back, some donated it to charities in Richard's name," Brett offered in way of a suggestion.

He immediately thought of Mrs. Turner, the sweet lady who'd lived next door to him in L.A. She'd told him of the volunteer work she did at one of the local AIDS hospices and how hard it was sometimes to get by on what little money came their way. "I know exactly where I'd like it to go," he said into the phone. "I'll email you the information, if that's all right."

"That's fine," Brett assured him. "I'll make sure it's directed wherever you want."

"Thanks," Justin replied.

"Take care, Justin."

"Yeah. You, too. Bye."

He hung up the phone and stood there, thinking about how many things had changed since he'd set off for what he'd expected to be an exciting new career in the movies. One man was dead, another was recovering from severe injuries, at least two others were facing criminal charges and the movie wasn't going to be made anyway. It all seemed like such a fucking waste.

The loft door slid open and he turned to see Brian enter. He briefly contemplated telling him the latest bit of news but Brian didn't need another reason to worry about him, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway. Maybe after things calmed down, he'd tell him. He remembered Daphne's advice to give him some space and Brian's declaration that he already had enough shit to deal with at the moment.

"Something wrong?" Brian asked with a frown, obviously unnerved by Justin's silent assessment.

Pasting on his best attempt at a smile, he shook his head slightly. "No, nothing."

He didn't look like he necessarily believed it, but after a brief hesitation, Brian shrugged.

"Did you eat?" he asked as he headed toward the bedroom to change.

Before he had a chance to answer, the buzzer sounded and Brian turned angrily to face the door. "Fuck!"

Justin ignored the outburst and headed for the intercom. "Yeah?"

"It's me," Lindsay's voice came over the speaker.

"Come on up," Justin said, glancing sideways at Brian. After pushing the button to allow her entrance, he went to stand beside his lover. "Be nice," he warned.

"Is it too much to ask for a fucking moment's peace?" Brian ground out, moving to pour himself a drink.

Justin watched him with a modicum of concern. Whatever was going on was taking its toll and he wasn't sure who would end up getting the brunt of it once it reached a boiling point. He was saved from further speculation when Lindsay showed up at the door.

"Hey," he smiled, crossing the room to kiss her on the cheek.

"It's good to see you, Justin," she said, returning both the smile and the kiss. "L.A. must have agreed with you. You look great."

"Thanks," he said politely. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thanks, I can only stay a minute."

"So, to what do we owe the honour?" Brian asked from his place at the bar cart.

Her smile faltered a little in light of his tone, but she quickly gathered her composure. "Actually, I need a favour," she began, ignoring the wry chuff of laughter her words invoked. "There's a meeting at the gallery tomorrow afternoon that I can't get out of. I was hoping you could pick Gus up from school and stay with him at the house until I get home."

"Why can't Melanie pick him up?" Brian asked with a frown.

"She's in court."

Brian snorted. "Believe it or not, you two aren't the only ones with full-time jobs."

"But as the boss, your schedule is more flexible," she replied sweetly. "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, Brian."

"I'm not busy tomorrow afternoon," Justin offered. "I could pick Gus up."

Lindsay turned to him, her smile more placating than apologetic. "That's sweet, Justin, but the school will only release him to a parent."

The slightly embarrassed look that flitted across his lover's face was not lost on Brian and served to intensify his irritation. "I'll pick Gus up tomorrow," he agreed, "and while I'm there, I'll make sure they know that Justin is on the approved list of people they can release him to in the future."

"I don't think that's necessary," Lindsay replied dismissively.

"I do."

Her eyes narrowed and she looked like she was about to argue, but instead, sighed and nodded tightly. "Fine. I'm his custodial parent; I'll talk to the school."

He nodded. "Good. Now that that's settled, was there anything else you needed?"

She glared at him for a moment before turning toward the door. "If there is, I'll be sure to let you know."

Justin waited until they were once again alone before turning to his lover. "She didn't mean anything by it, Brian. The school's rules are for the protection of the kids."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Brian snapped angrily. "You're not some fucking psycho off the street for Christ's sake."

Justin knew the anger wasn't solely directed at Lindsay or the situation with Gus and he was slightly grateful for the relatively innocuous outlet. "She said she'd talk to someone at the school," he reminded his irate lover calmly. "Next time a similar situation comes up, it shouldn't be a problem."

Brian only glared at him, not willing to give up on a legitimate excuse to vent the frustration he'd been feeling since Michael's revelation.

"In the meantime," Justin continued in an attempt to get his lover's mind off of Lindsay's visit, "I'm starving. Chinese OK?"

The glare had waned somewhat, but hadn't disappeared completely. "Not that new place. The Kung Po tasted like leftover cat."

"I'll have to take your word for that," Justin murmured as he browsed through the take-out menus. "Back to the Jade Terrace, in that case. You want anything special?"

"A side order of peace and fucking quiet would be nice," he mumbled, resuming his earlier attempt to make it to the bedroom.

Justin placed the order before following his lover to the other room. "How are things going with the Henderson account?" he asked, flopping onto the bed to watch the other man change.

Brian huffed a mirthless laugh. "Things must have gone well with Matherson if he's already got you scouting out the competition."

Justin frowned a little at that. "That wasn't why I was asking. Besides, Artex is no competition. It's graphic art, not advertising."

"I know what it is," Brian intoned, "but ideas are ideas."

"You don't seriously think I'd ever take your ideas and use them to get ahead at another company," he said in a tone of obvious disbelief.

Brian ran a hand through his hair with a sigh before shaking his head slightly and turning back to the closet, leaving Justin to wonder whether he was saying he didn't believe it or just didn't want to talk about it.

"So, how did it go with Matherson?"

Justin shrugged, even though Brian's back was to him. "All right, I guess. I met the people I'd be working with and I checked out the art department. Dwight seemed impressed with some of my ideas."

"Is <i>Dwight</i> on a first name basis with all his employees?"

Frowning, Justin realized he didn't know the answer to that. In the short time he'd been at Artex, he hadn't heard any of the other employees call him Dwight, or Mr. Matherson for that matter. "I don't know," he admitted.

Brian wanted to say that he did know, or at least thought it highly likely that Justin was afforded the privilege of using Matherson's first name because <i>Dwight</i> liked his ass, but he knew that would only start another fight. Besides, despite his misgivings, he thought that working at Artex could be a good experience for Justin and he didn't want to ruin that based on assumptions that could be way off base. He'd do some checking into Dwight Matherson, and if he still harboured concerns, he'd voice them then.

Their food arrived and they shared the meal in relative silence in front of the TV. Unbeknownst to the other, neither man was paying much attention to the CNN correspondent on the screen, each lost in his own thoughts. Brian was still trying to come to terms with what was happening to his best friend and what it could mean for his future good health while Justin's mind was on Brett's call, Dwight Matherson's interest and his partner's recent preoccupation.

Once they were finished eating, not that either of them found themselves with much of an appetite, they cleared away the leftover food and retired to their separate corners, Brian pulling up the Henderson account on his computer while Justin settled in on the sofa with his laptop. After sending the information about the hospice to Brett, he shifted his position, resting his back against the arm of the sofa and turning slightly so that he could watch the man working on the other side of the room. After a few minutes, it was obvious that Brian's mind was on something other than the computer screen before him. There was an underlying anger in his tense expression that couldn't be owed to a difficult account.

"Is everything OK with Michael and Ben?" he finally asked.

Brian looked up with a small, questioning frown.

"I heard you and Michael talking as I came in," Justin went on without apology. "Ben's devastated and Michael's afraid of losing him. Does he have reason to be? Is Ben sick?"

He felt an irrational surge of anger that it was Ben Justin seemed concerned about when Michael was the one currently going through Hell. "Ben's fine," he grated.

"Is it Hunter?"

"Fuck, Justin," Brian snapped. "Ben's fine, Hunter's fucking fine, all right?"

"Don't get mad at me for wondering," Justin bit back. "What was I supposed to think after hearing what Michael said?"

"Maybe you were supposed to think it was a private conversation," Brian snarked.

"I wasn't intending to eavesdrop," Justin replied, eyes narrowing. "If you were that concerned about being overheard, maybe you should have taken your private conversation somewhere else."

"I shouldn't have to worry about that in my own fucking home."

"And I shouldn't have to worry about feeling like an intruder in mine," Justin snapped, getting to his feet. "Maybe you need to make up a schedule, Brian. Let me know when I'm welcome to come home and when I'm not. Save me walking in on another little heart-to-heart with your fucking best friend."

Brian watched as his angry lover stormed into the bedroom, only to appear a moment later in tight-fitting jeans and a silk t-shirt. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he demanded, surprised at the attire.

"Out," Justin grated on his way across the room. Once he had the heavy door open, he tossed a tight, "Don't wait up," over his shoulder before closing it angrily behind him.

Brian sat staring at the closed door for a long moment, contemplating what seemed to be a complete role reversal. Justin wasn't the one who went out tricking when things got heated between them. That was definitely a Brian Kinney M.O. and he didn't think he liked having the tables turned on him in such a way.

No, he didn't like it one bit.

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Justin stood at the bar, working on his second drink and thinking about the recent happenings that had ended up with him being alone at Woody's. He wasn't actually angry with Brian so much as frustrated and concerned. The former because Brian was so obviously upset and Justin had no clue as to why, the latter because he wasn't sure what the fallout would be once it all came to a head. Things had been so good between them when they'd left California to return to Pittsburgh. He'd thought they'd be able to put the unpleasant happenings in L.A. behind them and finally begin building a life together. Instead, Brian was out tricking away his obvious irritation and Justin was being intentionally left in the dark as to the reason for his lover's ill temper.

A reason that obviously had something to do with Michael.

Downing the rest of his drink, he turned and headed for the door, shaking his head silently at the young brunette who'd been trying to get his attention for the last hour. He wasn't in the mood for a quick blowjob in the men's room. He wanted answers and he was damned well going to get them one way or another. Brian might be tight-lipped and stubborn, but Michael had proven time and time again that he was no good at keeping secrets.

A short time later, he was knocking on Michael and Ben's apartment door, hoping to find the former alone, but realizing it probably wouldn't matter either way. This was going to be resolved, regardless of whether or not they had an audience.

When Michael answered, he was obviously surprised to see Justin standing there, but his expression quickly turned to a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you."

"Well, I'm busy…"

Justin pushed past him, uncharacteristically angry. "I don't give a fuck. I'm sick of this shit."

"Hey!" Michael exclaimed, protesting the invasion.

"What's going on, Michael?" Justin demanded.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at the younger man. "I told you, it's…"

"None of my business, yeah, I know," Justin snarked, effectively cutting him off. "And that may be true of whatever's going on between you and Brian, but it doesn't take a genius to know that you're upset with me and that is my business. So either be a man and tell me what your fucking problem is, or knock it off with the adolescent gibes and dirty looks because I've got enough shit to deal with at the moment without you and one of your fucking temper tantrums."

"You've got enough to deal with?" Michael demanded angrily. "What about me? Rage was my dream, you little shit, not yours. You didn't care if the movie got cancelled. That just meant you could come home to your perfect little world that much sooner."

"All this is about the fucking movie?" Justin asked incredulously. "Jesus Christ, Michael."

"Damned right it's about the movie. I trusted you to look after our interests out there. I even helped you patch things up with Brian and what thanks do I get? You screw me over first chance you get!"

"What are you talking about?" Justin demanded, confusion mingling with his anger. "I didn't have anything to do with the movie being cancelled."

"Right," Michael scoffed cruelly. "Brett couldn't wait to tell me how fucking lucky I was to have a partner who'd stand up for the project. Did you even think about me and what this movie meant to me? Or were you too busy trying to prove that Justin Taylor can't be intimidated?"

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked, frowning. "For me to run back here at the first sign of trouble?"

"No! What I wanted was for you to do your job without making things worse. They never would have shut the movie down over a few protestors."

"No, not if it had stayed at that, but it didn't. They attacked me, they beat a man half to death and burned down the set and then they fucking killed Richard. A man is dead, Michael. No movie's worth that."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest once again. "Things don't generally escalate like that without someone adding fuel to the fire."

"And that's what you think I was doing?" Justin asked in disbelief. "You seriously think I would do or say something that would incite them to that sort of violence?"

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Michael snapped.

The colour drained from Justin's face at the words before rising again in a sheet of anger. "Fuck you, Michael," he hissed, storming from the apartment and slamming the door.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 8

Justin wasn't the least bit surprised to find the loft empty upon his return. He was, in fact, somewhat relieved. All the way home from Michael's, he'd been wondering if Brian was aware of Michael's feelings concerning the cancellation of the movie. Had Michael told him that he blamed Justin? That he suspected him of contributing to the escalation of violence? Was that what Brian had been trying to hide from him since their return home?

Part of him wanted to know, but a bigger part didn't. It was bad enough knowing that Michael believed it; it would only be worse to learn that Brian was supporting the misconception or even agreed with it.

One bat to the head might not have been enough for you but it was fucking more than enough for me!

Brian had been truly scared for him and Justin had seen it as a turning point, of sorts, in their relationship. Rather than keeping his feelings to himself like he'd so often done in the past, Brian had let him see his fear, his vulnerability. Was he regretting that, now? Trying to turn things back to the way they used to be and using Michael's anger and disappointment as a means to that end?

God, he hoped not. He was tired of taking one step forward and two back. It always hurt more to have something and then lose it than it did to never have it at all. He didn't want Brian regretting the steps they'd taken toward a real life together. From there, it wouldn't be long before he found a way to take back the words he'd finally spoken, the words Justin had waited so long to hear and had come to cherish like the treasure they were. He'd almost prefer never hearing them to having them discounted or taken back after the fact. Of course, if Brian truly regretted saying them, it was probably best that he knew.

He just didn't think he could deal with it at the moment.

He showered quickly and crawled into bed with a long sigh. There was also the possibility, he conceded to himself, that Brian was unaware of Michael's true feelings concerning the movie. Maybe he knew that Michael was disappointed that the project had been scrapped, but didn't realize he suspected Justin of having a hand in it, however unintentional. Deep down, he didn't think Brian would stand silently by while Michael compared the violence that had plagued the movie set to the incident with Chris Hobbes. The latter would always be a painful memory for his lover and Michael undoubtedly knew that. He wouldn't be so insensitive as to bring that up to Brian.

Of course, he'd never thought Michael would bring it up to him, either.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Brian entering the loft. Quickly deciding his best course of action, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. He heard footsteps approaching the bedroom and pausing at the foot of the bed.

"You awake?" Brian asked quietly. Getting only silence in response, he headed into the bathroom and started the shower.

Justin opened his eyes and let out a small sigh once he heard the water running. He was unsure whether Brian had believed the ruse and a little dismayed to realize he didn't really care. He knew he'd have to talk to him at some point, but at the moment, later seemed like a far more agreeable option than sooner.

Closing his eyes once again, he let his exhaustion and the sound of running water lure him to sleep.

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While neither was overly big on conversation, the near silence that permeated the loft the next morning was uncharacteristically tense. They spoke only when necessary and carefully avoided all mention of the previous night, both stubbornly refusing to be the one to bring it up.

"Don't forget you're picking Gus up from school," Justin reminded him as Brian checked the contents of his briefcase.

"Shit," he murmured, an obvious indication that he had, indeed, forgotten.

"Forget, for the moment, that you're pissed at Lindsay and just think about how much you'll enjoy spending time with Gus," Justin suggested, trying to lighten the mood. "Just the two of you, not a lesbian in sight."

Brian snorted. "In Lindsay's case, out of sight doesn't necessarily mean out of mind. She'll probably leave a list a mile long of things we're not allowed to do, snacks I'm not allowed to give him, words I'm not allowed to corrupt him with." He finished with his briefcase and snapped it shut.

"Gus won't care about any of that," Justin replied with a small shrug. "He just enjoys being with you."

Brian looked up, both eyebrows arched skeptically, though there was a small smile lurking at the corners of his lips. Crossing the room, briefcase in hand, he deposited a soft kiss on his lover's waiting mouth. "Later, Sunshine."

The use of the familiar moniker made Justin feel instantly better. Brian wouldn't use it, not in that tone, if he was still angry. Maybe he could let a little of his own anger slide, at least meet the man halfway. "Later," he replied with a small, though sincere smile.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Though he'd planned on picking up some necessary art supplies, Justin found himself merely walking down Liberty Avenue, taking in the sights and sounds. He hadn't been in California long, but he still felt oddly detached, like maybe too much had happened or too much had changed for him to ever really feel the same about anything again.

He was wondering if his feelings were normal, hoping that they were temporary, when he heard someone speaking his name. Blinking once, he turned to see that Lindsay had fallen into step beside him.

"You looked like you were a million miles away," she said with a smile, nudging his shoulder gently.

"Sorry," he offered, returning the smile. "I guess I was." He frowned a little then, taking stock of her smart attire. "What are you doing here in the middle of the day?"

"I have a million things to do to get ready for the meeting this afternoon and probably won't have time for lunch," she replied with a sigh. "I thought I'd take advantage of a momentary lull to grab something to take back to the gallery."

"From the diner?"

"I'm more in the mood for one of those bagels from Scapelli's," she replied. "At the same time I can pick up something for dessert tonight." She huffed a small laugh. "Not that Brian will eat it, of course."

"Brian?"

She frowned at him slightly. "He's staying with Gus this afternoon. Don't tell me he forgot."

"Of course not," he assured her. "He'll be there to pick Gus up from school."

"Good," she said, with a satisfied smile.

"I just don't know what that has to do with dessert," he admitted.

"I couldn't very well ask him to sit with Gus and not invite him to stay for dinner," she said, looking at him like he'd just grown a second head.

"Actually, you did," he pointed out. "You didn't mention dinner when you asked him to pick up Gus."

"I didn't?" She seemed totally surprised by that news. "Hmm. I meant to. I know Gus would love it, having his Daddy's undivided attention without all the distractions of one of Deb's family dinners."

He still didn't know if he was included in the invitation and was too polite to ask. Her comment about distractions, though, gave him a pretty good idea. "You probably shouldn't mention it to Gus until you've had a chance to ask Brian."

She waved a hand in dismissal of the notion. "He wants to spend more time with his son and Gus likes having him around. I'm sure he won't mind. He's been so busy lately, working and running back and forth to California that we've hardly seen him."

He wanted to point out that she didn't often invite him to dinner when he wasn't running back and forth to California, but thought better of it. "Still, you know Brian. He doesn't like to be blindsided."

"Having dinner with his son is hardly being blindsided," she huffed irritably. "He's the one who came to me saying he wanted more time with Gus. If that was all bullshit, he should tell me now before Gus is the one who gets hurt."

"It's not bullshit," Justin replied, getting angry himself. "He does want to spend time with Gus, but he doesn't need to be doing it out of some misplaced sense of guilt."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You tell me," he snapped. "If he tells you he has plans for dinner, are you going to accuse him of not wanting to spend time with Gus? Claim it was all bullshit the minute he isn't available to answer to your beck and call?"

"That's not what I meant," she answered, her tone softening some.

He took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. "All I'm saying is it will mean more to both Gus and Brian if he's doing it because he wants to rather than to prove his intentions to you. You know he wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it."

"I know," she acquiesced with a sigh.

"Then ask him about dinner; don't just assume he'll want to stay if he was serious about spending more time with Gus."

The last of her anger seemed to melt away with the words. "You're right," she conceded. "I'll ask him." She paused a moment before smiling tentatively. "You're invited, too, of course."

He was tempted to call her on that, to remind her that having him there would seriously damage the happy little hetero family fantasy she seemed to be indulging in lately. Needing Brian to go with her to see the apartment, her insistence that he was the only one who could pick Gus up from school, planning the cozy little family dinner without outside distractions. He wondered, for a moment, whether it was about Brian being Gus' father or wishful thinking, on Lindsay's part, that he could be a replacement for Mel.

"Justin?"

He flushed slightly as he was caught in the less than charitable thoughts. "Uh, thanks, but I should probably stop by my mom's."

He wasn't sure if her expression actually brightened upon hearing his words or whether his own morose thoughts had him seeing simply what he expected to see.

"Another time, then," she said with a smile. "I'll call Brian when I get back to the gallery. Give your mom my best."

With a quick kiss to his cheek, she was gone, hurrying toward the bakery.

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Brian was at his desk, studying the preliminary boards for the Henderson account, when Cynthia breezed in.

"You need to sign these," she said, placing a small sheaf of letters on his desk. "And Lindsay Peterson is on line one."

With a small smile, she left the office, closing the door behind her. Brian picked up the phone and punched the appropriate button.

"No, I didn't forget. I'll be at Gus' school at 3:10 sharp."

"I'm not calling because I thought you'd forget," she chastised him amiably. "I ran into Justin this morning and he told me you hadn't."

"Then why are you calling?"

"Actually, it was Justin who insisted I call and invite you to dinner tonight. It'll be nice, Brian, just the three of us. I know Gus would love it."

"Justin insisted on this, did he?" Brian asked skeptically.

"He said he wanted to go to his mom's. Maybe he was worried you wouldn't eat if left to your own devices."

He knew Justin had seen his mom a couple of nights ago. "As I'm sure Justin - and you - are aware, I've been monitoring my own eating habits for quite some time and haven't managed to starve to death yet," he said dryly.

"Maybe he thought it would be nice for you to spend the time with Gus. He's missed you lately, you know."

"Was Justin invited to this cozy little dinner?" he asked. He didn't like the way Lindsay seemed to dismiss his lover at times and was still angry at the way she'd brushed off his offer to pick Gus up from school.

"Of course I invited him," Lindsay huffed.

He didn't doubt it, but he knew how manipulative Lindsay could be at times. If she said she'd invited Justin, she had. Whether or not she'd been sincere in her invitation was another matter. He'd have to get Justin's take on it. "I'll have to get back to you," he finally said. "I'm not sure what my plans are just yet."

"I see," she said quietly. "Well, once you are sure, let me know. I should be home by six." She paused for a moment. "And Brian, don't get angry with Justin for insisting I call. I'm sure he was just thinking about Gus and how much he enjoys spending time with you."

"I'm sure Justin realizes Gus and I will have a few hours of quality time together this afternoon," Brian replied, his tone challenging. "That's actually more than I've had with Justin at any one time since he's been home."

She was quiet for a moment. "Are you guys having problems?" she finally asked. "If so, you know you can talk to me about it if you need to."

He almost laughed into the phone. Any problems they were having were being <i>caused</i> by members of their extended family; they weren't likely to be solved by them. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Well, good," she said, her voice much brighter. "So I'll see you when I get home and you can let me know whether or not you'll be staying for dinner."

"Yeah."

He hung up the phone and sat going over the conversation for a moment before he picked it up again and dialed the loft.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Justin was letting himself into the loft, arms laden with grocery bags, when his cell phone started ringing. Cursing softly, he managed to wrangle his purchases to the counter before fumbling in his pocket for the small device.

"Hello," he said breathlessly.

"Justin? It's Dwight Matherson."

"Dwight. Hi."

"I've finally made my way through the resumes I received and I'm pleased to say your portfolio continues to stand out above the rest. If you're still interested, the job is yours. You can start Monday."

"Yes, I'm definitely interested," Justin replied with a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Matherson."

"Generally, you'll begin work at 9 a.m., but if you could come in an hour earlier on Monday, we can get everything squared away with personnel before you start."

"I'll be there," he promised. "Thanks again. I really appreciate this chance."

"I've no doubt this opportunity will be beneficial to both you and Artex Designs," Dwight replied. "Have a great weekend and I'll see you on Monday."

"Thanks. You, too."

As he put the groceries away, he tried to muster up the suitable exuberance he thought he should be feeling. Artex was a great opportunity for him and he knew he'd been lucky to stumble upon it, especially as it was a temporary position that fit in so nicely with his plans, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease he'd had since Dwight had expressed a personal interest in him. He didn't think he'd offer him the job based solely on that, but then, he didn't really know the guy.

And on top of that, the confrontation with Michael was still shadowing his thoughts.

As surprised - and hurt - as he'd been by Michael's words, he couldn't help wondering if there wasn't a grain of truth to them. He'd goaded Chris Hobbes - at school, then in public that night in front of Woody's. Even Brian had pointed out that he'd succeeded in making a real enemy. None of that, of course, came close to an excuse for what Hobbes did, but he was willing to admit that he'd been trying to anger him, to humiliate him in front of his friends. He hadn't fully realized, then, what Hobbes was capable of, but he liked to think he'd learned something along the way. He wasn't that kid, anymore. That naiveté and the sense of invincibility that accompanied youth and innocence had been left, forever abandoned, in a parking garage across town.

The phone rang and he absently reached to answer it, glancing briefly at the call display. "Hey," he said into the receiver upon recognizing his lover's number.

"I just received the most interesting call, Sunshine," Brian drawled on the other end. "Imagine my surprise to learn that you insisted Lindsay call and invite me to dinner at Muncher Villa so that you'd be free to go to your mom's."

He rolled his eyes. "That's not exactly the way it happened. I did suggest she call, but only because she was already assuming that you'd be there for dinner."

"I take it from your choice of pronoun that you weren't exactly invited to join us."

"Not in a way that made me believe for a second that she wanted me there," Justin replied absently. "Which is why I told her I'd probably drop by my mom's."

"So, are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Going to Mommy's, Twat."

Justin hesitated for a moment. "As it turns out, I have some shopping to do." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I start my new job at Artex on Monday."

The short pause was now on the other end of the line. "Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Well, time is money, Sunshine. I've got some calls to make."

"Ok," Justin replied, disappointed but not really surprised by the lackluster reaction. "I guess I'll talk to you later, then."

"Yeah, later."

He hung up the phone and stood there for a moment before breathing a sigh and heading for the refrigerator. He'd bought the ice cream in hopes of another session like the one they'd enjoyed on the chaise a few years ago, but thought it might serve a better purpose in light of current circumstances. He didn't bother with a bowl once he had the carton in his hand, but stopped briefly for a spoon before heading toward the sofa.

He was flicking through channels aimlessly, having already made his way through a third of the frozen treat when the phone rang again.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. Since you're planning on going shopping later, I thought you could pick up some things for me."

"Such as?"

"Something other than cargo pants and t-shirts. I don't think that little Italian place you like is big on such attire."

He frowned into the phone, the spoon hovering, forgotten, above the carton of ice cream. "What are you talking about?"

"Dinner, Twat. I've made reservations for seven."

"You're taking me out to dinner?"

"Landing a job at a company like Artex, on a temporary basis and without benefit of a college degree, I might add, would be considered an achievement in some circles and you know how fond I am of celebrating achievement."

Justin couldn't help smiling at the mock sarcasm. "How loathe you are to celebrate anything that doesn't qualify, you mean."

"Well said."

"What about Lindsay?"

"I already called her. Told her I was taking my other favourite blond out to celebrate his new job."

"And she was OK with that?" He wished he'd been able to keep the incredulity from his voice.

"Of course. She even sent along her own congratulations."

"Cool. Dinner at seven, then."

"Lindsay should be home around six. I'll come back to the loft, shower, change and we'll be on our way."

Justin huffed a short laugh. "Yeah, right. The last time we planned something down to the wire like that, you lured me into the shower with you and we ended up being an hour late."

"It was dinner at Deb's. She's used to it."

"Yeah, well, I doubt La Fenice would be quite so understanding and I'd hate to lose our reservation." He paused a moment. "I really need this night out. I think we both do."

Brian didn't comment on that directly, but Justin could tell by the way his voice softened that he agreed. "So what do you have in mind, Sunshine?"

"The restaurant is like a two minute walk from Daphne's place and I wanted to tell her about my new job, anyway. Why don't I just meet you at La Fenice at seven? That way, if Lindsay's a little late or something, I'll be able to hold our table until you get there."

"Hmmm… just two guys happening to meet up in the same place. I like the non-date sound of that."

Justin laughed. "I think you blew the whole non-date thing out of the water when you made a reservation for two at one of the most romantic restaurants in town." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. While Brian might do the odd romantic thing, he didn't like to admit it, and he certainly didn't like having it pointed out to him.

"Maybe I was just hoping to get lucky later."

Justin had to swallow around the lump of emotion that settled in his throat as he was reminded how much he truly loved the man on the other end of the line. "That's a promise."

"Then my work here is done. Later, Sunshine."

"Later."

He was smiling as he returned the ice cream to the freezer. If he played his cards right, his original plans for it would come to fruition later.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 9

Brian let himself into the loft and grimaced at the clock. Even taking the shortest shower in history, he'd never make it to the restaurant by seven. While he hadn't seen the necessity at the time, he was glad that they'd agreed on Justin's plan to meet there. A later reservation might have been better, he admitted to himself, but he was lucky he'd been able to get one at all on such short notice.

Besides, he had plans for a certain blond after dinner and the sooner he could put them into motion, the better.

The phone was ringing as he exited the bathroom after his shower, but he paid it no mind, knowing the machine would take any message necessary. As he was choosing the most appropriate outfit for the evening, Ben's voice rang through the loft.

"Hi, Brian, it's Ben. I don't know if you're there or not, but if you are, I really need to speak with you."

Brian made his way to the phone and picked it up. "Professor."

"Thank God," Ben said. "I'm sorry to bother you but I wondered if you'd talked to Michael lately."

"Not since yesterday," Brian replied, frowning at the tense tone of voice. "Why?"

"I can't seem to reach him. He's not answering at the comic store or the apartment and his cell phone goes straight to voice mail. I was out of town lecturing this afternoon. I'm on my way back now, but I'm still about half an hour away."

"Did you try Debbie?"

"No," Ben admitted reluctantly. "I think Michael's been avoiding her lately. The pills are still making him sick and he doesn't want her picking up on anything. I've been trying to get him for the last half hour and … well, I'm a little worried."

Brian didn't doubt that. Ben wouldn't be calling him if he wasn't more than a little worried. As he remembered the night he'd driven Michael home, his own concern began to grow.

… I don't need you telling me what to do.

No, just to watch over you so you don't choke to death on your own vomit while you're sleeping off the fucking pills!

The words he'd spoken in anger were coming back to him with increasingly ominous connotations.

"What about Hunter?"

"He's having dinner at Jeremy's so they can work on their science project. I could call him, but…"

"But he doesn't know."

"No, and Michael wants to keep it that way. For now, at least."

Brian glanced at the clock. It was already 7:30 and he knew Justin would be pissed, but he'd never be able to relax enough to enjoy their dinner if he was worried about Michael.

"Ok, I'll run by the comic store and the apartment. If I find him, I'll call you back."

Ben breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Thanks, Brian, I'd really appreciate that."

"I'll talk to you later."

He hung up the phone and quickly dialed Justin's cell.

"Hey."

He cringed inwardly at the icy tone of that one word. "Hey. I'm sorry, Sunshine, but I'm not going to be able to get there for a while yet. There's something I need to do."

"Is Gus OK?" Justin asked, his earlier irritation replaced by concern.

"He's fine," Brian assured him. He briefly debated how much he could say. "I just got a call from Ben. He's out of town and can't seem to reach Michael at the store or the apartment."

"Did something happen?"

"To Michael?"

"To Ben. Why is he trying so hard to reach Michael? Is he sick? Or injured?"

"No, Ben's fine. He just… Look, I told him I'd drop by the comic store and the apartment."

"I don't get it, Brian. If nothing's wrong, why is it so important to track Michael down right this minute? And why is Ben dragging you into it?"

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't explain. It's just something I have to do."

Justin was silent for a few seconds. "Fine. Maybe you should check Deb's while you're at it. And don't forget the dry cleaners, the grocery store and the fucking diner. Or maybe he just stopped in to see Jenny Rebecca; did you think of that?"

Brian sighed, hoping it was something that simple. But having seen, first hand, his friend's adverse reaction to the drugs he was currently taking, he doubted it. If he'd fallen sick at the diner or any other public place, someone would have called for help and Ben would have been notified.

But alone in his apartment, or behind the counter in the comic store was a different story, and those images were the ones that had been flooding his mind since Ben's call.

"It's not like I'm going to be scouring the whole fucking city," Brian replied, his own irritation growing. "I'm going to check in at the shop and the apartment like I told Ben I would. It won't take that long and we can still have dinner."

"Unless Michael needs to cry on your shoulder again about what an unfeeling bastard I am and how he's always the injured party. You wouldn't want to miss the encore performance of that, would you?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian demanded, genuinely puzzled by the words.

"Like you don't know," Justin said flatly. "But it doesn't matter. Go do whatever you have to do."

It took a few seconds for Brian to realize he'd been hung up on. Resisting the urge to fling the phone across the room, he returned to the bedroom to dress.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

After checking the comic store and finding it securely locked up, Brian made his way toward Michael and Ben's apartment. As he climbed the stairs, he was glad he'd accepted the key Michael had insisted he carry 'in case of emergencies'.

He had the door unlocked and his hand on the knob, but had to pause to take a deep breath before he'd allow himself to push it open. When he found the small apartment empty, with no sign of anything wrong, he breathed a sigh of relief. Taking out his cell, he dialed Ben's number.

"Hello."

"It's me. He's not at the store or at the apartment. He's probably running errands or something equally mundane."

"He always has his cell on," Ben pointed out. "He worries about missing a call if Hunter or I should come down sick."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Professor," he replied, trying to mask his own concern.

"I appreciate your help, anyway," Ben said. "I'll be at the apartment in about five minutes. I'll check the phone messages and take it from there."

"Call me when you track him down," Brian said.

"I will."

He hung up the phone and was about to leave the apartment when Michael walked in.

"Brian? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he replied, his expression and his tone grim. "Ben couldn't reach you and thought maybe something had happened."

Michael frowned. "I got a call from Jenny Rebecca's sitter. She spiked a bit of a fever and Mel was in court and couldn't be reached." He tossed his keys onto the small table by the door and dropped wearily into a chair. "We spent nearly three hours in the emergency room just to find out she's got a minor ear infection."

"You probably should have called Ben. He was worried."

He couldn't miss the hard edge to his friend's voice. "I had to turn off my cell in the hospital," Michael defended himself. "I didn't know he'd be trying to reach me or I would have found a payphone. I don't see the big deal; it's not like I've never missed a call before."

"Before, he didn't have visions of you puking your guts out and passing out from a bunch of fucking pills."

Michael's eyes widened slightly and he looked at his watch. "Oh, my God, Brian, I totally forgot about my pills." He was hurrying to the kitchen where an array of small bottles were lined up along one side of the counter. "I've never missed a dosage before. What do I do, now?"

"First of all, calm down," Brian advised irritably. "You're likely to grab the wrong bottle if you try to take them during a queen-out."

"It's easy for you to say," Michael snapped. "Missing a dose could throw my whole system out of whack."

Ben could be heard entering the apartment and Michael hurried to greet him.

"Ben, I missed my dosage," he said without preamble. "What should I do?"

"Calm down, Michael," Ben replied, putting his hands on his lover's shoulders.

Michael nodded quickly and Brian rolled his eyes. His same advice had been met with scorn.

"Start at the beginning," Ben suggested. "You didn't take the pills?"

"I was at the hospital with Jenny Rebecca."

"Ear infection," Brian intoned as Ben shot a questioning look his way.

"Right," Michael said. "She'll be fine. Anyway, Brian told me you were worried that I'd had a bad reaction and I realized I totally forgot to take them."

"Ok, first of all, you didn't miss a dosage, you're just taking it late. Take them now, then decrease the interval between dosages for a few days until you're back on schedule. It happens, Michael."

"Oh, Ok," he said, obviously relieved. "I can do that."

Ben smiled. "I'll get them out for you." He kissed his partner on the forehead and headed for the kitchen.

Left alone with his best friend, Michael smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I freaked out."

"Not like I've never witnessed it before," Brian said dryly. "Are you OK, now?"

He nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Good." He glanced at the clock and swore softly under his breath.

"What's the matter?"

"I had dinner reservations with Justin for seven."

Michael looked at his watch. "That was nearly two hours ago."

"Thanks. I was trying to work that one out," Brian snarked.

"Does he know why you didn't show?" Michael asked, frowning.

"I didn't divulge your little secret if that's what you mean," Brian replied irritably.

"But he knows it's my fault. Jesus, Brian, like he needs another reason to be pissed at me right now. Thanks a lot."

Ben brought in Michael's pills and a glass of juice, pausing in mid stride as the tension in the room became evident. "Am I interrupting?"

Ignoring the question, Brian glared at his friend. "I was doing you a fucking favour," he pointed out. "For all we knew you could have been lying here on the floor in a pool of your own vomit."

Michael grimaced slightly before heaving a sigh. "I'm sorry, OK? I appreciate you coming over to check on me."

Ben was about to add his own appreciation to the mix, but thought better of it.

"So, what aren't you telling me, Michael?" Brian pressed. "What's going on with you and Justin?"

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, but his expression was one of regret more than defiance. "He didn't tell you?"

"If he'd told me, I wouldn't be asking you."

"Maybe it would be best if Michael and Justin worked it out between them," Ben suggested reluctantly.

Michael flashed a sheepish look at his husband. "You're just worried Brian will want to kick my ass when he finds out."

"That's not going to happen," Ben said, sending a warning look in Brian's direction. "Though I can understand why he might be angry, considering."

"Considering what?" Brian asked, his tone leaving no doubt that he wanted answers and wanted them now. "What happened, Michael?"

"Take these first," Ben suggested, handing Michael the pills and the glass.

Michael nodded and took the medication before lowering himself into a nearby chair.

"Michael." The tone held a hint of warning and more than a little frustration.

He sighed. "He came to see me last night."

That, in itself, came as a surprise, but he didn't let on. He'd thought Justin had gone out tricking, perhaps giving him a taste of his own medicine. Despite himself, he was curious as to why he'd paid Michael a visit considering how tense things had been between them.

"Go on."

"He demanded to know what my problem was and I told him that I thought he'd let me down when it came to the movie. I accused him of not caring that it was cancelled because he didn't need the money as much as I did."

"That's bullshit," Brian snapped. "You have the comic store; the movie was his only source of revenue at the time."

"I know," Michael replied glumly. "But it's not exactly the same, Brian. He doesn't have to worry about rent or making ends meet."

"Neither do we," Ben said quietly from where he sat across the room.

"But we never know when that's going to change," Michael defended himself. "You could get sick, or Hunter could. And now I have my own meds to pay for and we don't know what's going to happen there."

Ben grimaced and looked away. Brian kept his gaze trained on Michael. "Is that it?"

"No," Michael said reluctantly. "I sort of … suggested that what happened in L.A. was partly his fault."

"What? Jesus, Michael, do you have any idea what was going on out there? Those assholes were out to get that movie stopped and they obviously didn't care how far they had to go to make that happen. How the fuck could that be Justin's fault?"

Michael looked down at his hands. "I thought, maybe, he'd been mouthing off to them or something, trying to prove he wasn't intimidated." He paused for a moment, his expression pained. "The way he did with Hobbes."

Brian was silent for a moment, his expression carefully schooled even though his jaw was clenching. "You said that to Justin?"

Michael looked up, his gaze pleading. "Not in those words, but …yeah. I didn't mean it, Brian, I swear. I know what happened wasn't his fault. Either the prom or the movie. I was just … frustrated and scared and…"

"Fuck!" Brian exclaimed, turning away and stalking toward the window. He stood there for a moment, looking out at nothing, before turning to face his friend again. "He could have been the one killed out there, Michael. You don't have a fucking clue how scared he really was or how hard he took Richard's death." He stormed over to Michael's chair, glaring down at him. "We went to pay our respects to his family and his widow as much as told Justin it was all his fault. How the fuck do you think that made him feel?"

Michael got to his feet, suddenly angry. "I know exactly how that made him feel, Brian! I may not have been out there when all the shit was going on, but I know he could have been killed or hurt again and it would have been my fault! Rage was my fucking dream and it could have killed him! Do you think I would have been able to live with that? Do you think I would have been able to look you in the eyes, knowing what you went through after the prom and knowing I was the one responsible this time? So don't fucking tell me I don't know how he feels! He had no right putting his life in danger for a movie that meant more to me than it ever did to him!"

A heavy silence fell over the room as the outburst took all three men by surprise.

"And I had no right blaming him for making me feel that way," Michael finally acquiesced wearily. "God, Brian, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," Brian said grimly.

"I know," he said, nodding in defeat. "And I intend to, if he'll listen."

Brian looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head and moving away toward the door.

"Brian?" Michael called to him, his voice holding a hint of panic.

Brian turned, but still said nothing.

"I'm … sorry."

"Sorry's bullshit," Brian intoned before letting himself out of the apartment.

Ben crossed the room to put his hand tentatively on Michael's shoulder. "I'm sorry, too, Michael."

He was still staring at the closed door and huffed a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "For what? I'm the one who just fucked up two friendships."

Ben gently turned the other man to face him, lifting his chin until he could look into the sad, brown eyes. "And I could have fucked up something just as important and for the same reasons."

"What are you talking about?" he asked wearily.

"I was blaming you for my own feelings of guilt in much the same way you were blaming Justin. I'm the one who may have infected you and I got so wrapped up in my own culpability that I failed to see that I was keeping you at arm's length at a time when you needed me the most. I'm sorry."

Michael slipped his arms around his husband and pulled him close, his eyes tightly closed against the tears building behind his lids. "I'll always need you," he whispered hoarsely.

Ben kissed the dark head and wrapped his partner in a strong, protective embrace. "And I promise to be here for you from now on. For as long as I can."

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 10

Justin sat practically glaring at the bubbles dancing in his glass as he replayed the evening's timeline in his head.

He'd arrived at the restaurant with five minutes to spare before the time of their reservation and had been shown immediately to their secluded table. The waiter had gestured toward the champagne sitting on ice and had promised he'd be back to pour whenever they were ready. He ordered a glass of the house wine to sip while he waited with pleasant expectation for Brian to arrive.

At seven twenty-eight, he'd received the call from Brian.

Seven thirty-one, he'd ordered his second glass of wine.

The waiter had returned with a sympathetic smile and a small plate of exotic breads and cheeses to "nibble on while you wait for the rest of your party" around eight.

At eight thirty, he'd decided to save the waiter the trouble and had opened the champagne himself, muttering a quiet, generously laced with profanity, congratulations to himself.

He turned off his phone at eight forty-five, unwilling to listen to whatever excuses Brian might call with.

By five minutes to nine, he was receiving glances from more than just the waiter who'd been assigned his table.

Said waiter reappeared at nine, asking if he'd like to order and hesitantly informing him that they couldn't continue to hold the table if he wasn't prepared to do so. He'd managed to muster a suitable, though slightly inebriated, smile as he explained that his dinner companion had been delayed by a family emergency. He'd asked for the bill and promised to relinquish the table as soon as he was finished with his drink.

Which brought him to the present. Two minutes past nine and waiting for the bill for his non-existent celebration dinner instead of the man who was supposed to be sharing it with him.

"Justin?"

He looked up and frowned slightly into the face of none other than Dwight Matherson.

"Dwight. What are you doing here?"

"I was having dinner with a client," he explained. He took note of the empty champagne bottle and the fact that only one glass had been used. "Are you expecting someone?"

"Not anymore," Justin murmured, draining his glass.

Without bothering to ask permission, Dwight took the chair across from the younger man with a small frown. "Are you all right?"

Justin huffed a small laugh. "Of course. I'm always all right. And do you know why?"

"Why?" Dwight asked, with just a touch of amusement.

Justin leaned forward as though ready to impart one of the world's great secrets. "Because I'm not a grown man who plays with comic books and action heroes or a possessive lesbian who wishes she was straight."

He sat back proudly as though he'd just solved the mysteries of life.

"I see," Dwight replied, glancing up at the waiter and discreetly passing on his credit card to take care of the bill. Turning his full attention back to Justin, he asked, "Did they have a hand in what happened to your dinner plans?"

Justin frowned. "Not Lindsay, really. I mean, she was probably late, but she's always late."

"Assuming she's the possessive lesbian, I guess that leaves the comic enthusiast."

"Michael," Justin muttered, reaching for the empty bottle. He looked at it for a moment and then at his glass before turning his gaze back to meet Dwight's. "I think I had a little too much."

"Yeah, maybe," Dwight said with a kind smile. "Do you need a ride home?"

Justin shook his head adamantly and then regretted it as the room started to spin, the effects of the alcohol beginning to make themselves known. "Whoa."

Dwight flashed him a sympathetic smile. "Maybe we'd better get you out of here before that makes a reappearance," he suggested, nodding toward the empty bottle.

Justin grimaced. "Don't give it any ideas."

Chuckling, Dwight got to his feet. "Come on. My car's outside. I'll take you home or wherever it is you need to go."

Slowly, he got to his feet, taking a moment to steady himself before smoothing his hands over his new, silk shirt. "I'm OK."

"Of course you are. Come on." Dwight began guiding him toward the door with just a hand on his back, barely stopping to sign the credit card receipt the waiter was hovering nearby with. "Thanks," he said, smiling at the young man and reaching into his pocket for a suitable tip.

Though he seemed to be studying Dwight thoughtfully, Justin was oblivious to the transaction going on right in front of him.

"What?" Dwight asked, catching the pensive look.

"Is this going to affect my job?" the younger man asked, slurring his words slightly.

"No," Dwight assured him with a smile. "You don't officially work for me yet, remember?"

Justin nodded. "Good. In that case, let's go to your place."

"I don't think so," he replied on a chuckle. "I don't want Brian Kinney gunning for me in the morning."

Pushing him away slightly, Justin frowned. "He doesn't own me."

"Of course not," Dwight concurred, discreetly steadying the other man and guiding him once again toward the door.

"We're not monon… monononog…"

"Monogamous. I remember, just discerning."

He was nodding. "Yeah, that. I can fluck anyone I want, anytime."

Dwight chuckled. "Unless you want the whole restaurant to know about your 'flucking' habits, you'd better keep your voice down."

"Okay," Justin whispered.

Once outside, he took a deep breath and groaned a little. "I don't feel very well."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're likely to feel even worse in the morning."

"Fucking Michael."

"I know."

"You know Michael?"

Dwight was opening the passenger side door and trying to get Justin inside without hitting his head. "No, but you told me about him. Comics, action figures. Remember?"

"That's right!" Justin exclaimed. "You do know him!"

"I certainly feel like I do now," Dwight replied good naturedly. "Okay, where to?"

"I thought we were going to your place," Justin replied, frowning a little.

"And I thought I vetoed that as a really bad idea."

Justin's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let me out, then." He awkwardly tried to get out of the car despite Dwight's efforts to restrain him.

"I can't leave you to wander the streets," Dwight pointed out patiently, "and you're certainly in no shape to drive."

"That's probably just as well, since I don't have a car." He laughed for a moment, then leaned his head back against the seat with a groan. "Oh God."

"Are you going to throw up?"

He swallowed once. "No, I'm just sick."

"Sick as in 'I don't want to hurl all over Dwight's new car' sick?"

The responding sound was somewhere between a laugh and a moan. "No. Just sick. Of waiting, mostly."

"For Brian?" he asked compassionately as he buckled the other man into the passenger seat.

"For … everything."

With a sad smile, Dwight brushed the side of his cheek with one finger, pulling his hand quickly away when Justin leaned into the touch. Blue eyes focused on his and he found himself unable to look away for a long moment.

"I don't want to go home," the younger man whispered.

"Justin, I …" He shook his head slightly and patted the other man's shoulder. "Sit tight."

Closing the passenger door securely, he walked around the car and got into the driver's seat. He turned to survey the man beside him. "I don't…"

Justin reached out and touched his face, effectively cutting off the words. "Don't say you don't want to. I know you do. We both do."

"At any other place and time, I'd say yes, I want to, but not like this."

A look of hurt flashed in the blue eyes. "Not like what?"

"You're drunk, Justin."

He nodded slowly, unbuckling his seat belt and sliding closer to the other man. "Maybe. A little. But not enough that I don't know what I'm doing. That I don't know what I want."

"And what is that, exactly?" Dwight asked, a wry smile touching the corner of his mouth. "Me?"

"No," Justin replied softly. He reached out to touch the older man's face, searching his eyes for a moment before delivering a soft kiss to the side of his jaw. "To be somewhere else." His lips brushed gently across the smooth cheek where he dropped another small kiss. "Where nobody blames me…" Just the slightest contact of his lips to the other man's. "…and nobody cares that Michael isn't answering his phone."

Dwight swallowed hard against the sensations coursing through him. "Michael who?" he said huskily.

"Perfect," Justin murmured with a smile before leaning in for a real kiss.

Pulling away a moment later, Dwight searched the younger man's face. "This isn't what I had in mind when I offered to drive you home. I was trying to be a friend."

"We can be friends, or we can fuck," Justin replied. "Not both. It's up to you."

"Hell, I have too many friends, anyway," Dwight murmured as his lips descended once again.

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Brian had called Justin's cell the moment he left Michael's, only to be greeted by his voice mail message. Quickly, he dialed the number for the restaurant, disappointed, but not surprised to learn that Justin had already left. With a resigned sigh, he headed for the loft. It was empty, just like he'd expected it to be, and he spent a few minutes deciding his best course of action. Did he wait for his lover to calm down and return on his own? Or did he try to find him in the hopes of salvaging at least some of their night together?

It was only a few minutes later that he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Daphne, it's me."

"Brian. What's going on?"

"Long story. Is Justin there?"

"No," she replied slowly. "I thought he was with you. He said you were having dinner at La Fenice."

"We were supposed to," he replied with a sigh, "but something came up."

"Brian." Her tone was hard and he knew immediately what she was thinking.

"Not that," he practically snapped.

"Oh." She was silent for a moment. "Ok, if he comes by here do you want me to call you?"

"I'd appreciate it," he answered.

"No problem. If he comes home, you do the same, OK?"

"I will." Without further comment, he hung up the phone and settled in to wait.

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Justin awoke, momentarily disoriented, and turned his head to see the still sleeping figure beside him. Closing his eyes, he turned away and sat up on the side of the bed as memories from the night before made their way to the forefront of his mind.

"It's still early," a sleepy voice murmured from behind him. "Come back to bed."

Evading the other man's searching hand, he picked up his pants from the floor and began pulling them on. "No, I have to go."

There was a brief silence before Dwight spoke again. "Last night was a mistake, wasn't it?"

Continuing to dress, Justin replied, "I wasn't too drunk to know what I was doing, if that's what you're asking."

"But you regret it."

He paused a moment. "Only if you somehow got the wrong impression."

Dwight propped himself up on one elbow, studying the bare back of the other man as he stood to pull on his pants. "And what was the right impression? The one you tried to give me that day in my office?"

Justin turned as he zipped his fly, his gaze meeting the older man's evenly. "Nothing's changed. I'm with Brian. I'll always be with Brian."

"Then what was last night?" Dwight asked, frowning.

"Fucking," Justin replied, looking for his shirt and finding it in a somewhat wrinkled heap on the floor. "I also wasn't so drunk that I don't remember clarifying that before the fact."

"I know what you said, but your actions spoke differently."

"Yeah, well, contrary to popular belief among the executive elite, actions don't always tell the whole story."

"Don't try to put Kinney's words in my mouth."

Justin sighed and turned to face the other man while he buttoned his shirt. "Look, last night was fun and it was something we both wanted at the time, but that's all it was, a one time thing."

"Kinney's morals have rubbed off on you, I see."

One blond eyebrow climbed slowly toward his hairline. "You thought I was drunk and took me home anyway and you're going to criticize my morals?"

Dwight had the decency to look away at that comment. "You're right," he finally said, shaking his head. "It was stupid and I knew it at the time, but …"

"It wasn't stupid on your part," Justin said sincerely, "and it wasn't a drunken mistake on mine." He shrugged a little. "It just was what it was."

"A one time thing."

"Yeah."

They were both silent for a moment as Justin continued to dress and Dwight watched him.

"So, that's it."

"There is one other thing," Justin said, turning to face the other man. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline that job offer after all."

"Part of your 'fucks or friends, but not both' policy?"

"Something like that," Justin said absently as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it on. He made eye contact with Dwight and smiled a little. "Thanks for being willing to take a chance on me, though. I really do appreciate it." He gestured toward the door. "I'll just wait outside for my taxi."

Without waiting for a reply, he was gone.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Brian was in the kitchen pouring a fresh cup of coffee when he heard the loft door slide open.

"Hey," Justin said, surprise evident in his voice. "You're up early."

Trying to maintain a nonchalant expression, Brian turned to face his lover. "Thought I'd go in to the office and catch up on a few things."

"Oh." It was an uncomfortable silence that reigned for the next few seconds. "Is everything OK with Michael?"

"He was at the hospital with Jenny Rebecca. They make you turn your cell phones off."

"Is she all right?"

"Ear infection. She'll be fine."

"Good."

"I trust you found a suitably entertaining way to spend your evening," Brian remarked casually.

Turning toward the bedroom, Justin tried to keep his answer as indifferent as the question had been, aware as he was that it was an act on both their parts. "Let's see. After waiting alone at the restaurant for two hours, I ran into Dwight. He offered me a ride home and I crashed at his place."

He was on the first step leading to the bedroom when the question he'd been expecting reached him. "Did you fuck him?"

Turning, he found himself unable to hide the anger he still felt toward his lover. "You, of all people, can't possibly have a problem with that. How many guys have you fucked in the week since I've been home, Brian?"

"None that I'd be working with on a regular basis."

"That shouldn't be a problem since I turned the job down … after I fucked him."

There was a brief flash of surprise in Brian's eyes before he forced a small laugh, shaking his head. "Remind me to sit you down and give you a few pointers on how to get ahead in the corporate world, Sunshine."

"This doesn't have anything to do with the corporate world or what you think my place should be in it," Justin stated, further angered at the sneering tone in which his lover used the familiar nickname. "It's about you breaking your word. Do you have any idea how much I was looking forward to having some time alone with you without Michael or Lindsay interrupting with one of their fucking emergencies?"

"It's not like I deliberately tried to get out of dinner. Michael needed me."

"I needed you, too!"

"Lucky for us, you were able to find an alternate source for what you needed." He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. "And on such short notice, too."

As Justin stood staring at the closed door, it was with a sense of hopelessness he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 11

Though he'd arrived at Kinnetik earlier than usual, Brian had yet to do anything productive by the time mid morning rolled around. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, not at all conducive to creativity in any of its forms. The whole situation with Michael was taking its toll, not only on him, but on his … relationship… with Justin.

Justin.

Brian winced inwardly as he thought about his lover. He wasn't an idiot; he knew that his recent behaviour had given Justin cause to be confused and hurt, even angry. What he hadn't realized until that morning was the extent of those feelings. The fact that he'd not only spent the night with Matherson, but that he'd so blatantly admitted to it was testament to just how far things had spiraled out of control.

And then, on top of everything else, Justin had felt compelled to decline the job he'd been so enthusiastically looking forward to. There was no doubt in Brian's mind that he'd turned down the job because he'd fucked him. Likewise, he knew Justin wouldn't have fucked him if Brian hadn't had to bail on their dinner plans. The doubts came in when he tried to figure out how he was supposed to fix things without making them worse.

A mirthless laugh bubbled up in his throat at the realization that he, Brian Kinney, stud extraordinaire and undisputed King of Liberty Avenue, was sitting at his desk trying to figure his way out of the dog house. No apologies, no regrets. Wasn't that the way things were supposed to be? He was who he was and Justin was supposed to accept that whether he liked it or not. And if he didn't like it, that was his problem, not Brian's.

Only somewhere along the line it had become Brian's problem. He didn't welcome the knowledge that he'd let Justin down, that he was still letting him down by sitting at his desk brooding instead of trying to make things right. But how was he supposed to do that without breaking his promise to Michael?

Which brought him to the subject of his friend. He didn't regret making that promise, exactly. Michael and his family had been there for him through some of the worst moments of his childhood and beyond. They'd opened their home to him at times when his own had been more of a battleground than a safe haven. Vic, Debbie, Michael. They'd all been like family to him when he'd been unable to count on his own and when Michael had asked for his trust, it hadn't even occurred to him not to give it.

Freely, but not necessarily without reservation. Reservation in the form of a blue-eyed blond who'd come to be the centre of his world. The world that now seemed to be crumbling around him as he stood aside watching, unable to do the one thing that might still save it.

He'd instructed Cynthia, in no uncertain terms, that he didn't want to be disturbed and merely glared at Ted when he deigned to walk into his office.

"Exactly which part of 'I don't want to be disturbed' are you having the most trouble with, Theodore?" he grated.

"I'm sorry," Ted said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "but I need to know which boards you want to show at the meeting this afternoon."

Fuck. The Grafton account. He was supposed to present the ideas he'd come up with. Thankfully, it wasn't scheduled until two. He still had four hours in which to clear his head and it wasn't going to happen sitting there listening to Ted ramble on about art boards. Getting to his feet, he pocketed his cell phone and his keys.

"Where are you going?" Ted asked with a puzzled frown.

"Out."

"But the meeting … Brian, you've been working on this for a month; you can't just blow it off."

"When I need your advice on how to run my business, I'll be sure to ask for it," he muttered as he reached the door. "Have the boards set up in the large conference room by one-thirty."

"But, which boards?"

Brian shot him scathing look. "The man wanted to see a few different proposals, did he not?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"Then set up all the fucking boards. In the large conference room. By one-thirty. Is there another language, perhaps, that you might find easier to understand?"

Ted shook his head, refraining from rolling his eyes, but just barely. "No, I think I've got it."

"Good. I'll be back in plenty of time to meet with Henderson." With that, he left the office, walking past Cynthia's desk without so much as a word.

He briefly considered the baths, but tricking had lost some of its appeal. In light of what had happened between Michael and Ben, every fuck had become a potential risk, every blowjob a possibility for infection. His practices, while always mindful of safety, were not infallible, not when such a thing could happen to two people as aware and vigilant as Mikey and the professor. How many times had he taken the chance that he might unknowingly take something home to Justin? Syphillis, HIV, any number of other wretched diseases. All for the sake of mindless release, a quick moment in time when he could forget everything going on around him.

He walked aimlessly as the thoughts meandered through his mind and, before he knew it, he found himself outside the comic shop. He stood, staring unseeing at the various items in the window for a moment before going inside.

"Brian," Michael acknowledged him with a small frown. "What are you doing here at this time of day?"

"If you greet your customers with such suspicion it's a wonder you have any business at all."

"I'm sorry, I just …" He was hesitant to bring up the subject of the previous night, remembering how angry Brian had been, but he was concerned by his friend's appearance. He just looked… defeated. Not at all something he, or anyone else, for that matter, would normally associate with Brian Kinney. "Are you OK?"

He stood slowly shaking his head for a moment before answering with a quiet. "No."

"Did something happen with Justin?"

Brian was silent for so long Michael was convinced he wasn't going to answer.

"It's all fucked up."

His concern growing, Michael asked, "What is?"

In lieu of an answer, he merely scrubbed a hand over his face and shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," he finally stated before turning toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

He flashed Michael one of his most charming smiles, realizing they both knew how insincere it was. "I have a meeting. Time to dazzle the masses with my brilliance."

Michael stood staring after him for a moment before coming to a conclusion. Perhaps he didn't have his best friend's brilliance, but he knew a thing or two about making things right.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

While not in the mood for company, Justin nonetheless answered the buzzer when it rang. "Yeah?"

"Hi. It's me."

"Brian's not here," he replied, bristling at the sound of Michael's voice.

"I know. Can I come up anyway?"

He considered telling the other man to fuck off, but the tentative tone in the question gave him pause. Sighing, he pressed the button and opened the door.

Michael arrived on the landing a moment later with a plastic bag in his hand and a sheepish smile on his face.

"What do you want?" Justin asked wearily.

"To apologize," Michael answered. Holding up the bag, he added, "I even brought lunch as a peace offering."

Justin crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing the bag suspiciously

"Cheeseburgers fully loaded and a double order of fries with gravy." Michael explained with a hopeful smile. "I even had Ma throw in some lemon bars."

Though he was still angry, the fact that Michael was making such an effort wasn't lost on him. Silently, he stepped aside and allowed the other man to enter.

Going straight to the kitchen, Michael began unpacking the bag while Justin retrieved plates and the cutlery they'd need. Both tasks were completed in silence until Michael finally turned to face his friend. "I really am sorry, Justin. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"You can't help how you feel."

"No, but I shouldn't have taken the anger and frustration I was feeling out on you. I know what happened wasn't your fault."

Justin put a burger and some fries on his plate and slowly walked over the sit at the counter. Michael joined him a moment later.

"When you stood up to Hobbes that night in front of Woody's I was a little… envious, I guess. I wasn't even out at work and there you were taking on the school bully and his jock friends."

Justin shook his head slowly, whether because he didn't agree or because he just didn't want to be reminded, Michael wasn't sure, but he felt a need to continue. "Then, when I got the call from Brian and went to the hospital, I couldn't help wondering if things would have been different if you'd just …"

"Kept my mouth shut?"

"I was going to say backed down. I wasn't proud of it; I'm still not, but I was willing to swallow my pride, even have you swallow yours if it could have changed things." He sighed. "When Brett was telling me about the protestors, I pictured you standing up to them and all those same feelings came back."

"You were thinking I'd done too much in defense of the movie and I was wondering if anyone had done enough," Justin mused, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked with a frown.

"Everyone thought ignoring them was the best policy." He shrugged. "Maybe if someone had done something sooner, it never would have gone as far as it did."

"Or it might have been worse and more people could have been hurt or killed."

"Maybe."

They sat in silence for a moment, each toying with their food, but neither actually eating.

"I was scared and that made me angry," Michael said quietly. "Mostly at you."

"Because I was the most logical target?" Justin asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Michael turned to face him. "Because you were the one who could have been hurt and I would have had to live with that. Rage was my idea in the first place."

"That doesn't make you responsible for what happened, Michael," Justin replied, rolling his eyes. "Jesus."

"I never said it was rational." He smiled wryly.

"Nothing that happened was because you came up with the idea to do a gay comic." He got up to grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. "Not everyone's world revolves around you, you know."

Michael smiled sadly. "No, not everyone's."

Justin glared as he handed him the water before once again taking his seat, popping a fry almost angrily into his mouth.

Michael, too, began to eat slowly, though his expression was more thoughtful than the angry one Justin wore.

"Ben and I had a bit of an accident recently."

"What kind of accident?" Justin asked, frowning.

"The kind you don't want to have when your partner is HIV positive."

"You mean … you were infected?"

"I was exposed."

Justin took a moment to let that sink in. "Jesus, Michael, are you Ok?"

He sighed. "Right now I'm on a preventive cocktail. I've had some bad reactions to the drugs and that's why Ben freaked out yesterday when he couldn't reach me."

"And that's why he called Brian," Justin concluded, shaking his head. "Why the Hell didn't he just tell me that?"

"I made Brian promise not to tell anyone. I don't want Ma to find out and start bawling every time she looks at me for the next six months."

Justin sat there for a moment, going over it all in his head, the food in front of him forgotten. "So why are you telling me now?"

"Brian came to see me this morning."

"He told you to talk to me?" Justin asked indignantly.

"No, I just … I guess I just realized how miserable he was having to hide it from you. I'm sorry, Justin, I didn't think about the problems it could cause."

"The fact that you were pissed at me probably didn't help either."

He grimaced a little. "Probably not," he admitted.

"I thought you'd told Brian how you felt about what happened in L.A. and that he was taking your side."

"I did tell him. Last night," Michael filled him in. "I already regretted it at the time, but I thought he should know." He frowned a little. "I can't remember ever seeing him that angry with me. That's how I knew something was really wrong when he showed up at the comic store this morning." He toyed with one of his fries, dragging it back and forth through a small puddle of gravy while he thought about what else he wanted - needed - to say. "After Brian left last night, Ben and I had a long talk. He made me realize a few things I hadn't wanted to see until now."

He paused again and Justin remained silent, waiting it out.

"Brian and I have been best friends for most of our lives, but somewhere along the line, things changed. I can claim to be his best friend until Hell freezes over, but you're the one his world revolves around now. You and Gus. Just like my first loyalty is to Ben and Hunter and Jenny Rebecca."

"He'll always love you, Michael."

He smiled. "I know. But not the same way he loves you. I accepted that a long time ago, even though it was hard at first. Then I met Ben and realized that I'd never have with Brian what I had with him. What Brian has with you. I may be his best friend, but you're his partner. Ben made me see that I was expecting Brian to walk the line between the two and that was unfair. Especially when I know that, if the tables were turned, I wouldn't be able to do it."

"That's just because you couldn't keep a secret to save your life," Justin teased.

"Maybe," Michael allowed with an embarrassed smile. "The point is, I'm sorry this caused trouble between you."

"We'll work it out," Justin said, hoping it was more prophecy than wishful thinking. "So what happens now? When will you know anything for sure?"

"I stay on the meds until I get the final test done after six months. From there, I guess it will depend on the results."

"I'll be hoping for the best."

Michael nodded, getting to his feet. "I appreciate that."

Justin hugged him. "Thanks for telling me, Michael. And let us know if there's anything we can do to make things easier."

"I will," Michael promised, returning the hug.

Justin walked him to the door and pulled it open.

"I'd still like to keep this between the four of us for now," Michael said. "I don't want to worry Ma if it turns out to be a false alarm. It's too soon after losing Uncle Vic."

"I won't tell a soul, I promise."

With a satisfied nod, Michael left to return to the comic shop.

Justin had closed the door and was nearly to the bedroom when he heard a knock. Assuming it was Michael, he went to answer, surprised to see Daphne standing outside the door.

"Daph."

"Don't 'Daph' me," she warned, pushing past him into the loft. "What the Hell is going on with you?"

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Brian called me last night looking for you. He promised to call when you got home but I never heard anything. I bust my ass getting over here to see if there's anything I can do and here you are, safe and sound."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he muttered miserably.

She punched his arm - hard.

"Ow. What the fuck, Daphne?"

"I was worried, asshole. You could have called."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know Brian had called you. And I'm sure he would have let you know when I got home, but … I didn't, not until this morning."

She frowned. "If you weren't here and you weren't at my place, where were you all night? Your mom's?"

He closed his eyes briefly. "Dwight Matherson's."

The look on his face had her eyes growing wide. "You didn't."

"I did," he sighed. "I was mad at Brian for blowing off my celebration dinner and when Dwight showed up, I …"

"You thought it would be the perfect way to get back at him?" she asked incredulously.

"That was part of it, I guess," he replied miserably. "Part of it was just Dwight."

"You like him?" she asked, frowning in concern.

"Huh? No! That's not what I meant."

"Well, I don't exactly have a program to follow here," she snapped. "What do you mean it was 'just Dwight'?"

"He never should have told me he was interested in me," Justin vented. "It was always in the back of my mind, making me wonder if that was the reason he offered me the job. Or if somewhere down the line he'd push for something more, thinking I owed him for giving me such a great opportunity."

"So, what? You decided to beat him to the punch?" she asked, still not entirely following.

"Something like that," he sighed. "I went home with him, fucked him, then told him I didn't want the job after all."

"I can't believe you! You were so excited about getting that job and you throw it away for a roll in the sheets? What the Hell were you thinking, Justin?"

"All the wrong things, apparently," he said miserably, rubbing his arm.

She sighed. "I'm sorry I hit you." Grabbing his wrist, she dragged him over to the sofa and sat the two of them down. "Ok, start from the beginning and tell me everything."

He took a deep breath. "Brian blew off our dinner, but he had a good reason, I just didn't know it at the time."

"What was the reason?"

"I can't tell you."

"I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything."

"Not this, Daph. Not now, anyway."

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully for a moment. "Ok, so now you know Brian's reason for missing dinner and you feel like a shit for being pissed at him."

He thought about that for a minute. "It's more that I feel like a shit for being pissed at him for the wrong reasons."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Does he know where you were last night?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And he was glad I, and I quote, 'found another source for what I needed on such short notice'."

"Ouch."

"You don't really think he believes I just need him for sex, do you?"

"If anything, your bonehead move last night proved that you don't need him for that."

"It wasn't the brightest thing I ever did; I get that. Can we just move on, please, and focus on what I'm going to do now?"

She sighed. "We can try. Look, I'm sure Brian doesn't think that all you need from him is sex, but face it, neither one of you are Einsteins when it comes to the relationship thing. If you expect him to know certain things, you may just have to break down and try this newfangled thing called communication."

"I was all for that, but you told me to back off, remember?" he accused her.

"I sure as Hell didn't tell you to back into someone else's bed," she snapped back.

"I know," he replied, defeated. "None of this is your fault. You're right, I should have just told him how I was feeling."

"Now we're getting somewhere," she replied with a small smile. She patted him on the knee and then got to her feet. "I think we could both use a break from all the drama. Come on. We'll get ice cream and you can crash at my place until you figure out what you're going to say to Brian.

He couldn't help looking up at her with a small smile, grateful that she was his friend, even if she still believed ice cream solved most of life's little problems.

"I don't think ice cream is going to help," he admitted.

"Can't hurt," she replied with a shrug.

He shook his head with a small laugh. Yeah, he was definitely grateful.

Friends and Lovers

Chapter 12

Brian left his office feeling like an entirely different man from the one who'd entered nearly ten hours earlier. Grafton had been thrilled with his concepts, so much so that he'd decided to go with not one, but two of the campaign ideas he'd come up with. It meant over a million dollars in revenue for Kinnetik.

And it reinforced the idea that Brian Kinney could sell an idea to anyone.

It was with that mindset that he left the building on a direct course for Michael and Ben's apartment. He loved Michael like a brother and he'd do almost anything for him, but not at the expense of his relationship with Justin. Not anymore.

There was an obvious look of surprise on Michael's face when he answered the door. "Brian. Two visits in one day. Should I be honoured or worried?"

"We need to talk," Brian stated as Michael let him in to the small apartment.

"Ok," Michael agreed uncertainly.

Brian took a deep breath. "Look, I can understand you not wanting everyone to know what's going on right now and I meant it when I said I wouldn't tell anyone."

"And I appreciate that, but …"

"But nothing," Brian snapped, cutting him off. "Did you forget the problems this kind of shit caused in the past? The fucking fiddler? The cancer?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "And if memory serves, it wasn't Justin who couldn't keep his mouth shut in either one of those cases; it was you."

"I know."

"That's it?" Brian demanded. "That's all you have to say?"

Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "If you'd let me get a word in, I'd also say I talked to Justin this afternoon and told him everything."

"Everything?"

Michael nodded. "I explained why I felt the way I did about the movie." He held up one hand when Brian looked like he was going to say something to that. "And, I apologized for what I said. I also told him about what happened with me and Ben."

Brian looked surprised for a moment before his gaze narrowed dangerously. "If you were going to tell him anyway, why all the fucking drama? Do you have any idea what we've been going through since you dropped your little bombshell and asked me to keep it to myself? Or is that what you were counting on? Is that it, Michael? Was this all some fucking test to see who I'd choose between my partner and my best friend?"

"No!" Michael replied adamantly. "Of course not!" He winced as his friend turned away from him in anger. "Brian, I know this has caused problems for you but that's not what I wanted. I just … I needed you as a friend, someone who could understand what I was going through."

"I'm trying, Michael," Brian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I really am, but …" He shook his head as the words trailed off.

"But I was so scared for myself and angry with Justin that I lost sight of the fact that he's my friend, too." He paused for a moment before adding quietly, "And that maybe you'd need someone to lean on while I leaned on you."

It was a long, silent moment before Brian turned to face him. "You're pathetic; you know that?"

Michael offered a weak smile, garnering a similar one from his friend. "Yeah, I know. Self-centered, too, from what I hear."

"You certainly have your moments," Brian replied with a tired laugh.

"Are we OK, then?" Michael asked hesitantly.

Brian hugged him and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. "That'll depend on whether or not I go home to an empty loft," he teased.

"Daphne was on her way up when I left," Michael informed him. "That was hours ago, though."

Brian grimaced. People teased Michael about the way he was always so quick to come to Brian's defense, but Daphne could certainly give him a run for his money in the category of loyal best friends. If Justin told her the whole story, she'd be giving him the evil eye for days to come, if not weeks. And that was only if she decided against tearing him a new asshole. "Great. That's just what I need."

"You're not scared of her, are you?" Michael teased.

"She hits," Brian replied solemnly.

He laughed. "I'm sure she's long gone by now, but if you want to call Justin first, just to make sure the coast is clear, be my guest."

"I'm not sure he'd answer," he replied, only half joking.

"He would," Michael said sincerely.

Brian's answering smile was one of gratitude. "I'll see you later, Mikey."

The sound of the familiar nickname was music to his ears. "Yeah, later."

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Brian's heart sank a little when he entered the silent loft. Daphne had, no doubt, whisked her best friend off for some compassionate downtime and he was faced with another long, lonely night with only his own thoughts for company. He placed his briefcase on the counter and pulled a beer out of the fridge. When he turned around, he was startled to see Justin standing at the bottom of the steps leading to the bedroom.

"Hey," he said, his tone registering his surprise.

"Hey." There was a brief pause while Justin crossed his arms over his chest and Brian wondered if the gesture was meant as one of self-preservation or defiance. "You didn't think I'd be here."

It wasn't really a question, so Brian answered only with a small shrug.

"I told you I was through with running."

"Michael told me Daphne was here earlier. I thought you might have gone out with her."

He frowned. "I thought you talked to Michael this morning."

"I did. And then I stopped in after I left the office to tell him what I thought of all this secrecy shit."

Justin shook his head sadly. "We can talk to Michael and Daphne but not each other. Why is that?"

"I couldn't tell you. I promised Michael."

"I know that," he replied, "and I understand why you couldn't tell me what was going on exactly. What I don't understand is why you couldn't just let me be there for you anyway."

"There was nothing you could do."

"Nothing the tricks couldn't do better, you mean."

One eyebrow rose slowly. "No, that's not what I meant."

They stood staring at one another before Brian shook his head and headed to the bedroom to change.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"What's to say? I trick, you sleep with your potential boss. It's all good, right?"

"That was a mistake," Justin said quietly.

"Why? Because it was more than just a fuck?"

"What? No!"

"Then why did you turn down the job?"

Justin sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "For the same reason I fucked him. Not because I liked him, but because I wasn't sure I could really trust him."

Brian frowned, not liking the sound of that. "Why not?"

"During my second interview, he told me he was torn between hiring me and asking me out. Once I knew he was interested, I started wondering why he'd really offered me the job." He grimaced a little. "I didn't want it turning into another Sapperstein incident, so I bailed."

"But you fucked him first."

"Well…yeah. He's kinda hot."

One corner of his mouth twitched slightly in amusement. "I'm impressed, Sunshine."

Justin wrinkled his nose. "Don't be. I'm not proud of it."

They fell into silence as Brian pulled on a pair of sweats and Justin watched.

"You know we need to talk about all this, right?" Justin finally ventured.

Brian sighed. "I know I won't be able to stop you from talking, if that's what you mean."

"That's a start, I guess," Justin intoned.

"Look, I know how fucked up this whole thing got, but my hands were tied. I couldn't break my word to Michael. He's been there too many times for me."

"That sounds pretty selfish to me."

"He didn't mean…"

"I wasn't talking about Michael; I was talking about you."

"Me?" Brian demanded incredulously. "I'm not the one who wanted to keep the fucking thing a secret."

"No, but you were willing to do it because Michael needed you to."

"And that makes me selfish," he replied, disbelief colouring his tone.

Justin sighed. "Brian, you're always the go-to guy, the one everyone runs to with their problems."

"Because I'm the one with the check book," he muttered.

"There's more to it than that and you know it. Michael didn't need money, did he?"

"No," Brian admitted grudgingly. "I offered, but …"

"But it was your confidence he needed, and your support. And you gave him both because you wanted to. For the same reasons you'd drop everything to pick Gus up from school or to fly down to California at a moment's notice."

"Because I'm selfish?"

"Because you want to be needed," Justin said with a small smile. "Just like the rest of us."

"I didn't ask for any of this shit."

"Maybe not," he acquiesced. "But it comes with the territory when you have people you care about, who care about you."

Brian shook his head and looked away.

"And that," Justin continued, "is what makes you selfish."

Brian's gaze swung around slowly to meet his. "How, exactly, did you little blond brain come up with that?"

"I love you, Brian. I want to be there for you the way you are for me and Michael and Lindsay, but you won't let me. You turn to tricking or God knows what else, but you never turn to me."

"There was nothing you could do," Brian repeated.

"Not about Michael's problem, no, but I might have been able to help with yours. You're scared and worried for your best friend. I'd feel the same way if it was happening to Daphne, and I'd like to think you'd be there for me, not to change it or fix anything, but for comfort and support."

Brian looked away again, but he seemed to be mulling the words over in his mind.

"Just like I would have liked you to be there when Brett called to tell me that Richard's widow turned down our condolence gift."

"What?"

Justin shrugged as the angry hazel eyes bore into him. "She didn't want anything from anyone connected to the movie."

"When did he call?"

"Couple of days ago," Justin sighed. "You were driving Michael home, right before Lindsay showed up asking you to pick Gus up from school."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"You'd already told me you had enough shit to deal with," Justin said defiantly. His voice softened as he added, "And I'd already put you through enough with what happened in L.A."

"Is that why you didn't tell me what Michael said to you?"

He shook his head slowly. "I'm not going to run to you every time I have an argument with Michael."

"But bringing up Hobbes…" Brian sat down beside him on the bed. "Don't tell me that didn't upset you."

He refrained from pointing out that it probably upset Brian more, likely due to the fact that his lover, unlike him, still remembered every detail of that night. "It upset me when I thought you agreed with him."

"I didn't."

"I know."

They sat in silence for a moment before Brian scrubbed a hand over his face. "Are we done with this talking shit?"

Justin had to chuckle at the pained tone to his lover's voice. "Was it really that much of a hardship?"

"That depends. Did we accomplish anything?"

"You tell me."

Brian sighed. "I don't know. I can't promise it won't happen again. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm not exactly the sharing type."

"But you're getting there."

Brian barked a short laugh, shaking his head, and Justin leaned into him, resting against the solid warmth of the other man's body. "I don't expect you to share every little thing, Brian, but I want to feel like you can count on me the way I do you."

"Some would say counting on me is a risky venture at best."

"They'd be wrong," Justin replied, kissing his lover's bare shoulder lightly. "We've had some rough moments, but you always come through for me in the end."

Brian slipped his arm around Justin's shoulders, pulling him closer and deposited a quick kiss on the waiting lips. "The fact that we're both still here could say the same for you."

"It could," Justin concurred with a smile. "If you'd stop fighting it long enough to realize it."

"I'm getting there," he replied, tongue in cheek.

Justin elbowed him in the ribs, then reached up to kiss him. "I love you."

"I wish I could say the same, but you're back to being an unemployed, starving artist and I have my standards, you know."

Before he knew it, he was laying prone on the bed, an amused smirk on his lips and a delectable blond straddling his thighs.

"I was hoping," Justin purred as he bent to place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth before trailing his lips along the line of his jaw, "that maybe there was a successful ad agency here in Pittsburgh that might be able to utilize my many talents."

Brian shuddered as his lover's warm breath washed over his skin. "I might be able to put in a good word for you somewhere," he teased.

"Somewhere where I don't have to worry about the boss being after my ass."

"Oh. Forget it, then."

Justin's mouth had made its way down to the flat stomach and was busy painting obscure patterns there with the tip of his tongue, reveling in the way the muscles twitched in response to his ministrations. "Mmm. Unless, of course, the boss is successful and hot with hazel eyes and a body to die for. I have my standards, too, you know."

"You think you're going to find someone like that in this burg?" Brian teased.

Justin moved up to kiss Brian long and hard. "I already have," he murmured once they parted. "Now I just have to convince him to give me the job."

One eyebrow rose in speculation. "And just how do you plan to do that, Sunshine?"

"By giving him one of my own," Justin replied in his most sultry voice. In seconds, he had Brian stripped of the sweat pants and was busy teasing the shaft to full hardness with his tongue.

"Christ," Brian muttered, his hips moving slightly toward the warmth of his lover's lips.

Justin chuckled before putting everything he had into the most intense blowjob he'd ever given. When Brian erupted down his throat scant moments later, he allowed he limp member to slip from his lips before moving up to kiss his lover, sharing the other man's taste with him.

"Well?" he murmured, nuzzling the skin below Brian's ear.

"The job's yours," Brian replied, his voice heavy with satisfaction.

Justin raised his head to look into the hazel eyes. "Seriously, Brian, I only want it if you can really use me."

"I can really use you. The Henderson account is going to require someone with your level of talent." He shrugged slightly. "And better it be someone who actually understands what I want."

"Are you saying you need me?" Justin teased.

Brian rolled over, effectively blanketing the younger man and pinning him to the bed. "What I need is for you to get rid of these clothes."

With a small smirk, Justin raised his arms and his upper body as much as Brian's weight would permit, allowing the man to whisk his t-shirt away in one fluid motion. He closed his eyes as his lover went to work on his pants, sighing softy when his throbbing dick was released from its confines.

"Perfect," Brian murmured appreciatively as he stroked the now naked body before him with hands and eyes.

"Brian," Justin whispered.

He answered the plea by pushing the younger man's legs up, exposing the tantalizing pucker to his searching tongue.

"God," Justin gasped, gripping the bedsheets with one hand and Brian's hair with the other.

Brian rimmed him to within an inch of his life before reaching for a condom and lube.

When he pushed inside the lithe body, he released a long, deep breath. "Fucking perfect."

Justin moaned. "More perfect if you'd start mov…"

His words trailed into an incoherent moan as Brian established a smooth, deep rhythm, pressing in as far as he could go and rotating his hips slightly to brush against the smaller man's prostrate before slowly pulling out to start all over again.

The pace was slow and unhurried but still rivaled the hardest, most desperate fuck they'd ever experienced in its intensity. It was, Justin realized through a cloud of lust-driven oblivion, the difference between sex and making love and every sensation was pushed to new heights with that knowledge.

As the need climbed between them, all coherent thought was relegated to a fleeting awareness in the back of his mind in favour of just feeling, just experiencing this thing that was theirs alone, that no one else would ever share. He reached the pinnacle in record time, calling Brian's name as he shot his load between their sweaty bodies. Brian followed moments later with a guttural groan.

"Jesus," Justin whispered hoarsely as he lay trying to catch his breath, his lover's slowly softening cock still buried inside him.

With a soft groan, Brian pulled out and rolled to one side, pulling Justin close as though unwilling to be separated. "That was hot."

Justin kissed the hard, sweaty chest gently. "Yeah."

Silence descended upon them as they waited for breathing and heart rates to return to some semblance of normal.

"I was at Kinnetik," Brian finally said quietly.

Justin looked up at him with a questioning frown.

"The other night, when I didn't come home. I was at Kinnetik."

Justin kissed him lightly. "Thank you for telling me that."

Brian huffed a laugh. "Thought I'd practice this whole sharing thing."

"I don't need, or want, for that matter, to know your every move, you know."

"But I promised you we'd be sharing more than a bed when you came home and I haven't exactly lived up to that promise."

"We both fucked up," Justin replied quietly. "I should have told you how I was feeling, what I was thinking."

"Maybe we need to start over."

"Hmm?" Justin murmured, with a small frown.

Before he knew it, Brian was atop him, smiling down into his slightly confused face with a wolfish grin. "Brian, what…"

Brian silenced him with a long, deep, soul-searing kiss. When he finally pulled away, it was to look down at his lover with a much softer smile. "Welcome home, Sunshine."

Friends and Lovers

Epilogue

Justin closed his laptop and leaned back in the chair, wincing a little as he stretched his achy muscles. When the phone rang, he glanced at it only briefly before answering.

"Hey."

"Hey. I'm on my way. Need anything?"

He glanced at the clock and smiled. Just a little after 9 p.m.. Not bad, considering they'd both been burning the candle at both ends for the last couple of months. With Thanksgiving a little over a week away, the Christmas campaigns had long been put to rest and they were already working on concepts for Spring lines.

"Just you. And maybe a good massage."

"You still working?"

"No."

"As of…"

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help a small smile. "About five minutes ago."

"I kicked your ass out of the office because you looked tired. I thought you'd take the hint and get some rest."

"And I did. But then I figured out what was still bugging me about the Prescott graphics and I wanted to try something."

"And?"

"I like it. You'll have to tell me what you think when you see it."

"Okay, I'll be there in ten."

"See you then."

He hung up the phone and stood, surprised at how achy and tired he felt. It was a good tired, though. The kind that came from working hard at something you really enjoyed. He didn't think he'd care to have Brian's job, that of coming up with concepts and trying to sell them to clients and then to a fickle public, but he loved working in the art department, making those ideas come to life on the art boards that were so important to each and every pitch. It was challenging but rewarding and he still got a rush when everything finally fell into place. Not nearly as intense as when a new painting emerged from a blank canvas, and not something he'd want to be doing for the rest of his life, but for the time being, he was enjoying it and the money was good.

Of course, he'd promised Brian he'd be going back to school after the Christmas Break and he was still planning to do so, but even that had worked out better than he'd expected. He'd met with the Dean and had discovered that he was entitled to course credit for the work he'd done on the movie as well as what he was currently doing at Kinnetik. That, combined with the time he'd already spent at PIFA, left him a mere four credits short of a degree. He'd be able to complete them easily within the year and would still have plenty of time for his art.

He heard the elevator lumbering its way toward the sixth floor and couldn't contain a slightly embarrassed smile. He'd probably never admit it aloud, but he still felt a small thrill whenever Brian walked through the door and he doubted that would ever really change.

A lot of things had changed, though. They still had their fair share of disagreements, even the occasional full-blown argument, but the last six months had seen them beginning to adjust to a real life together. They might never be completely comfortable with long, heart-to-heart conversations, but they'd each come to realize the importance of communication in all its forms and their relationship - and they, themselves - were stronger for it.

The heavy door slid open and Justin crossed the room to greet his partner with a kiss. "Did you eat?" he asked.

"Yeah," Brian answered with a nod as he placed his briefcase on the counter. "You?"

"A little. Wasn't really hungry."

Brian smiled but refrained from commenting on how unusual that statement sounded coming from his lover. "Any calls?"

"Just Deb. Wanted to make sure we were still on for Thanksgiving Dinner."

"That's still a week away."

"Yeah, well, you know Deb. She probably starts cooking tomorrow."

Brian shook his head as he dropped the mail on the counter with a sigh. "After tomorrow, she might not feel much like celebrating."

Justin didn't have to ask what he meant. The following day was when Michael would learn the results of his six month test. His doctor had been able to adjust his dosages so that he wasn't getting as sick and he'd been able to hide it from his mother and the rest of the family so far, but he'd no longer be able to keep it a secret if the results came back positive.

And Deb wasn't the only one Justin was worried about if that should happen.

"What about you?" he asked quietly, looking into the hazel eyes.

Brian just shook his head again and didn't answer for a long moment. "Everything else has been going so well. Linds and Mel are back together and Gus is happy. Business is good. We're good. I just …"

"You're afraid to hope for more?"

"I sometimes wonder if one more thing will be the straw that breaks the camel's back. If wanting just that one thing more will be too much and everything else will go to shit."

"Mmm," he murmured, pulling the other man into a hug. "I don't think it works that way. We want what we want and sometimes we get it all, sometimes we don't. But it doesn't have to be all or nothing. If things don't go well tomorrow, the girls will still be together. Gus will still be happy, business will still be good." He pulled back a moment to look into Brian's eyes. "And we'll both still be here. Together."

One corner of Brian's mouth twitched in a small, grateful smile. He pulled the younger man closer and they stood silently in the embrace for a moment before Brian pulled back with a frown. "You're hot."

"You're just noticing that now?" Justin asked, trying for a leering smile.

"I don't mean that, Twat. I mean like feverish. How do you feel?"

Justin briefly considered a playful response, but his achy, tired muscles and the dull headache behind his eyes had him opting for the truth. "Not so good," he admitted, wrinkling his nose.

"That fucking Hewitt," Brian muttered. "I should fire his ass."

"I don't think you can fire someone for catching a bug, Brian."

"Yeah, well I should be able to do something about him spreading it all over the office."

"I'm sure he didn't. He went home as soon as he realized it was more than just a cold. I just happened to be the one working with him that morning. It's no big deal. Hewitt was only out with it for a couple of days. I'm half his age so I should bounce back twice as fast."

Brian sighed. "Fine. Get into bed and I'll bring you something for the fever."

"I already took something," Justin informed him. "It should kick in any moment."

Brian kissed him on the forehead. "I guess that just leaves bed, then."

"It's still early," Justin pointed out. "I'll probably just sleep for the rest of the night so if you want to go out or something, you should go. No sense hanging around here catching whatever it is."

"If I'm going to catch it, I'm sure it already had a chance to gain a good foothold while I was buried balls deep in your ass last night."

"Probably," Justin concurred, wrinkling his nose again, this time in apology.

Brian kissed him again before swatting his ass. "Bed. I'm going to take a scalding shower and see if I can't cut some of those germs off at the pass."

Justin chuckled, shaking his head, but did as he was told. He was tired and achy and the thought of the soft, warm bed was far more appealing than he wanted to admit.

He burrowed under the covers, shivering slightly while he waited for his lover to emerge from the bathroom. He couldn't resist a weak smile as Brian crawled naked into the bed and spooned up behind him.

"You're not actually going to sleep at ten o'clock."

"I'm tired. A certain horny blond kept me up half the night."

Justin closed his eyes and pressed himself closer to his lover's warmth. "As soon as I feel a bit better, you can return the favour."

Brian kissed the top of his head. "Count on it, Sunshine."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Brian was working on his computer when he heard Justin get up and go into the bathroom. He saved the file he'd been working on and headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water and the pain pills his lover would no doubt be needing. When he entered the bedroom it was just in time to see the younger man crawling beneath the covers once again.

"How are you feeling?"

Justin groaned softly. "I slept for twelve hours and I'm exhausted. Everything hurts and the headache's back with a vengeance. You?"

Brian chuckled. "Definitely better than that." He sat on the edge of the bed and shook two pills out of the small bottle before handing them and the water to Justin. "Here. Take these."

Justin did and then collapsed back atop the pillow with a moan. "I feel like shit."

"You look like it, too," Brian said, leaning down to kiss his forehead gently.

"Thanks." He glanced at the clock again and then back at Brian, frowning. "You're going to be late for Michael's appointment." Michael had asked them both to be there when he got his results and they'd willingly agreed to lend whatever moral support they could.

"I'm not going. Ben will be there, anyway."

"But you promised him you'd be there."

"That was before you came down with the plague. I already called him and told him we wouldn't be able to make it."

"What did he say?" Justin asked, a wary expression creeping into his eyes.

"That he hopes you feel better and that he'll call us when he gets his results." He frowned a little as though trying to remember. "And I think he might have mentioned calling Deb and getting her to send over some fucking chicken soup."

Justin reached for his hand and squeezed it weakly. "I'm sorry you won't be there with him when he gets his results, but at the same time, I'm glad you're here."

Brian stretched out beside him and brushed a limp lock of hair from his forehead. "Now who's the selfish one?" he teased with a small smile.

"I guess you didn't corner the market on that particular trait, after all."

"Or maybe I did," he replied, slipping his arm around the warm body. "Seeing as how I'm exactly where I want to be."

Justin tried for a smile, but his bottom lip quivered dangerously. "I love you so much."

Brian huffed a short laugh. "I think that's a definite sign that the drugs have gone to your head."

"I think you're right," Justin acquiesced. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

He looked at him for a minute before leaning down to kiss him gently.

When they parted, Justin smiled. "I heard that."

Brian smirked, though there was an amused tinge to it. "Get some sleep, Twat."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next time he woke, it was to the sound of the buzzer and Brian going to answer it.

"Yeah."

"It's us. We won't stay long."

"Come on up."

Brian unlocked and opened the door before returning to the bedroom. "Michael and Ben are here."

"Did he call?"

Brian shook his head. "I guess he wanted to deliver the news in person."

Justin rolled carefully out of the bed and Brian frowned at him. "You don't have to get up."

"We've all been waiting for this," Justin reminded him. "I want to be there." He pulled on a robe and slowly made his way downstairs to collapse on the sofa. "I never realized how far that was," he moaned.

Brian shook his head in amusement before sobering at the sight of his best friend and his husband in the doorway. "Mikey."

Michael looked at him with a straight face for a moment before breaking into a grin. "Negative."

Without a word, Brian crossed the room and pulled the smaller man into a tight hug. When he finally pulled away, his grin matched Michael's.

"Congratulations, Michael," Justin said with a smile of his own. "I'm really glad."

"Thanks," Michael replied, his smile fading a little. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better."

"You've certainly looked better," Ben teased him amiably. He placed a pot on the counter. "We picked this up from Deb's with strict instruction to tell you to call if you need anything else."

"Thanks," Justin replied. "I will." He glanced over at Brian who had yet to say a word since their friends' arrival. "But I think Brian has it pretty much covered."

His comment got the desired snort of mock derision and he smiled, glad that his lover had recovered from the emotions brought on by Michael's news.

"Trust me, Sunshine, I have ulterior motives for wanting that ass of yours back in good health."

"Please, spare us the details," Michael teased.

"We don't have time for them, anyway," Ben added on a chuckle. "We really can't stay."

"We just wanted to deliver the news in person," Michael concurred. He looked over at Justin with a slightly apologetic smile. "Maybe when you're feeling better, the four of us should go out to celebrate."

"Sounds good," Justin agreed with a nod.

"In the meantime, we'll be celebrating without you," Ben said, snaking an arm around Michael's waist.

"A vision I may never be able to get out of my head, thank you very much," Brian intoned.

Michael laughed. "Ben's taking me out to lunch and then we're taking the rest of the day off. Sort of an early Thanksgiving."

"You both deserve it," Justin said with a smile.

"And both of you deserve our thanks. I know you didn't always agree with my decision to keep it from Ma and the others, but you stuck by it and that means a lot."

"To both of us," Ben added sincerely. He stepped forward and hugged Brian, taking him momentarily by surprise. "Thanks, Brian."

"You're welcome," he replied uncomfortably.

"You too, Justin."

"I'd think twice about hugging Typhoid Mary over there if I were you," Brian quipped.

Ben smiled at Justin. "Rain check, then."

Justin nodded. "Sure thing."

"I hope you feel better soon," Michael said sincerely. "Ma's soup should help." He turned to Brian with a small frown. "Make sure he eats it."

"Oh, I will," Brian replied with a knowing smirk in Justin's direction. "Payback's a bitch, Sunshine."

Michael looked from one to the other and saw the smile of shared remembrance that passed between them. "Since I have no idea what that means, is it safe to tell Ma he's in good hands?"

"The best," Justin replied with a smile.

"He's drugged," Brian explained, rolling his eyes at his partner's comment.

"OK, then, I guess we'll be on our way."

After another round of good wishes, Brian saw them out the door before returning to the sofa to find Justin lying on his back, one forearm covering his eyes. "Do you think you can handle some of Deb's soup?"

"That depends. Do I have to move?"

"You might want to sit up since I have no intention of explaining to Deb how you choked to death on her home remedy."

He pulled himself to a sitting position and groaned. "Forget what I said last night. You should fire Hewitt."

"Maybe I'll keep him on and just make his life miserable for a while," Brian replied as he ladled soup into a bowl and warmed it in the microwave.

"That works, too. As long as you wait until I'm there so I can watch."

"Being sick brings out your more malicious side, I see," Brian chuckled as he placed the soup on a tray and carried it to the sofa along with a bottle of water and a small glass of juice.

"It's always there," Justin intoned. "I just don't have the strength to hide it right now."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They were silent for a few minutes while Justin ate what he could of the soup before placing the tray on the table. As he made a move to lie down, Brian stopped him.

"Uh uh, back to bed for you."

"But I want to stay out here with you," Justin practically whined. "It gets too lonely in there by myself."

"You've slept the majority of the last twenty hours," Brian scoffed. "How would you know?"

Feeling too tired and miserable to argue the matter, Justin allowed himself to be escorted back to the bedroom, pleasantly surprised when Brian stripped down and climbed in beside him. "Are you just going to laze the day away?"

"Why not? If Mikey and Ben can do it, I should be entitled."

"I'm glad things worked out for them," Justin mused, snuggling closer to the other man's warmth. "It was a long six months, though."

"Yeah, it was," Brian agreed. He put his arm around his partner and waited until the blond head was settled comfortably on his shoulder before adding quietly, "But it would have seemed a lot longer without you here."

Justin was silent for a moment before tilting his head to look up at his lover. "I'm the drugged one here, remember?"

Brian arched one eyebrow regally. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I could have sworn I just heard you say something dangerously close to sweet and romantic."

"Great," Brian muttered, rolling his eyes. "Now you're suffering auditory hallucinations."

"In that case, this would be a perfect time for you to tell me that you love me."

"It would, would it?" Brian asked, tongue in cheek.

Justin managed a slight smile. "Only if you mean it. I'd hate to suffer an auditory hallucination that stemmed from pity because I'm so obviously at death's door."

Brian laughed and kissed him lightly. "Drama queen tendencies and a malicious streak. What's not to love?"

Justin smiled and reached up to kiss him before snuggling back into the warm embrace. "Precisely."

They were quiet for a moment. "Brian?"

"Hmm."

"Tell me more about those ulterior motives of yours."

He chuckled softly, tightening his hold on the body in his arms. "Well, first…"

The End