Brian was over the shitty Monday he had when he arrived home. He parked behind Evan’s car, and they met at the front door.

Evan got the mail, while Brian called the elevator.

“What’s up with you?” Evan demanded, handing Brian the bills.

“I’m tired.”

“Want a massage?”

“I want you to leave me the fuck alone,” Brian snapped, getting in the elevator.

“Whoa! What the fuck got into you? Where were you this weekend?”

“Would you stop with the damn questions? If I wanted a nagging wife, I’d have been straight.”

They stomped out of the elevator.

Evan pushed Brian against the wall next to the metal door leading into the loft.

“Get off me,” Brian snapped.

“I want answers!”

“This is all a farce! It will be over in some weeks or months. Just play along.” Brian shoved Evan out of his way, unlocking the door.

“So you want a divorce?”

“I thought that was where we were headed when we agreed to this freak show.”

Evan slammed the door shut, making Brian wince. “You know what I think? I think you want out of this marriage to get back to Justin.”

“And how did you figure that one out?”

“It’s glaringly clear that you’re still in love.”

“You’re delusional.”

“The fuck I am! Deny that you had Taylor for lunch,” Evan demanded.

Brian opened the fridge door so hard that the lamp on top of it rattled. He had to get that thing down, but there was never time for such a simple act. He glared at the casseroles inside, pulling a random one out. He wished Debbie would let them starve.

“No witty answer?” Evan glared.

“If you must know, I had Thai,” Brian explained, throwing the casserole inside the microwave oven. “Besides, I meant that you’re delusional because you think there’s something between us.”

“We were just fine before he came back!”

“We were married for a couple of weeks! I don’t know what you thought we were doing, but this ain’t gonna last.” Brian waved between them. “I refuse to be tied down to anyone, especially to a pompous ass like you.”

“Must I remind you that I own half of your company?”

“What, you’re threatening me now? We’ve always worked well on a professional level. It’s the personal one that’s lacking.”

“We’re not much different, Brian. Do you think I like being married? But I figured if I took that step, I should at least do it with someone I really like and I won’t get bored with.”

“So thoughtful of you. I told you, you can get your rocks off somewhere else.”

“Shocking, I know, but you’re enough,” Evan hissed.

“Well, here’s a newsflash for you: You’re not enough for me. I’m a top.”

“Since when?”

“Since for-FUCKING-ever! You were the only one I allowed to top me back then.”

Evan opened his mouth, then closed it.

“So stop this bullshit that you’re into monogamy and marriage and all the things that make life worth living,” Brian yelled. “If you cared enough, you’d have noticed I’m not satisfied. But don’t worry, we’re going to end this farce of a marriage soon.”

“Brian, I had no idea…”

“Of course, you didn’t. There’s only one person you care about: YOU!”

Brian took the food out of the microwave, which had pinged a while back, but he had lost what little appetite he had.

He went to change into his clubbing clothes, muttering to Evan that he was going out and he shouldn’t wait up.

Brian ended up at Woody’s. He found Emmett nursing a cocktail by himself, and he joined him after getting himself a whole bottle of whiskey.

“What’s up?” Brian sneered, taking a seat across from Emmett.

“Planning a party?” Emmett joked, pointing to the bottle.

“Me and my little self decided to indulge in some old fun.” Brian wished he had stopped by Babylon to track down one of his drug dealers.

“Whoa! What happened?” Emmett asked, concerned.

“I fucking hate this mess! If they didn’t have a real reason to put me in prison, they will soon. I’m so close to murdering Evan.”

“Now, now. You mustn’t harm your husband.”

“Do you realize this is all fake, right?” Brian asked as seriously as possible.

“You’re putting on a pretty good act, then.”

Brian knuckled his forehead, taking a healthy swig from the bottle.

Thankfully, Emmett changed the subject, telling Brian about one of his latest event planning jobs.

By the time Brian decided to leave, he was more than a little drunk. He walked to Daphne’s apartment, amazed that he remembered where she lived. He had been there only a handful of times.

While he waited for someone to answer the door, Brian looked at the bottle in his hand, realizing he was pathetic.

Daphne opened the door, bleary eyed and with her hair sticking up in all directions. She blinked several times, before stepping aside.

Brian shuffled inside, saluting her silently with his bottle, then made his way to the guest bedroom.

Brian didn’t bother to knock; he simply walked inside. Justin was fast asleep. His laptop was open on the nightstand, still playing the movie he had been watching.

Brian placed his bottle on the other nightstand, before climbing in bed next to Justin. Justin mumbled something, snuggling into Brian's warmth.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Definitely. I’m imagining you’re in my bed.”

Brian chuckled, kissing the back of Justin's neck. “I’m here.”

Justin rolled on his back, cracking an eye open. He reached out to touch Brian's face. “Shit! You’re real.”

“I just told you I’m here.”

“And you’re drunk.”

Brian retrieved his bottle, taking another swig of it. “I had a fight with Evan.”

“And I’m your rebound guy?” Justin asked, hurt.

“I’m not sober enough to have round two with you. I just had to be here with you. Go back to sleep.”

“What’s wrong?” Justin sat up, taking the bottle from Brian's hand. “You’ve had enough of this.”

“You might be right. Evan thinks we’re…that our marriage is real. But I opened his eyes. Told him that I hate everything about it.”

“And what did he say?”

“I left.”

“Jeez, Brian. That’s not how you solve your problems.”

“Just shut up. Can we just sit here quietly?”

Justin nodded. He stopped the movie, then closed the laptop, encasing them in darkness. They got under the blanket, their arms wrapped around each other.

Justin pressed his cheek to Brian's shoulder, sighing loudly, as Brian played with his hair.

“I love you,” Justin whispered.

“Likewise, Sunshine,” Brian slurred.

#

In the morning, Justin drove Brian home before going to buy coffee, with the promise to meet him at work.

Brian expected to find Evan waiting for him, and he didn’t disappoint.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Brian mumbled, heading straight for the shower.

“Can I join you?”

“No.” Brian slammed the bathroom door shut in his wake.

He was surprised when Evan didn’t follow him. When he was done, Evan was gone.

Brian took his time getting dressed, fighting off the monstrous hangover.

In front of the building Evan’s car was idling, the passenger door ajar. It took Brian a second to understand that he had waited for him, noticing Brian didn’t have a vehicle.

“What happened to the Vette?” Evan asked, when Brian joined him inside the Mercedes.

“Left it in front of Woody’s,” he answered truthfully.

“Did you go home with someone again? That’s unlike you.”

“Back to one thousand questions? If you must know, I went to Justin’s. I had to talk to someone.”

Evan shot him a look, and Brian wasn’t sure what to read there: hurt, incredulity, shock.

“Nothing happened,” Brian added.

“If you say so.”

“We have to talk when we get home tonight.”

“I agree.” Evan nodded.

Brian was surprised Evan wasn’t putting up a fight.

“I’ve given it some thought, and I decided to let you fuck me. Equal rights and everything…so you’ll be satisfied and happy. But not every night.”

Brian groaned, because by that point they were going two steps forward and ten backward.

“I might even let you fuck me on the desk at work.”

“There are glass doors,” Brian snapped.

“So?”

“NO!” Brian got out of the car when they arrived. He noticed Justin's car parked in his usual spot.

Brian went directly to the Art Department, making everyone freeze at his appearance. Good. The fuckers deserved to be terrified of him for the way they were treating Justin.

Justin was bent over Susan’s desk, pointing to something on her desktop. He threw Brian a smile over his shoulder.

“Where’s my coffee?” Brian asked, noticing only one cup on Justin's desk.

“In your office. I even got Mr. Steele a coffee. I remembered what you ordered last time.”

“I hope you didn’t forget to mention about the spit,” Brian told him.

“I’m gonna let you do that yourself,” Justin joked. “Now let me work on the ad that’s gonna make Kinnetik rise like the phoenix.”

Brian rolled his eyes, amused at the jovial mood Justin was in.

He went to the office he shared with Evan.

Evan was inspecting the coffee on his desk, confused.

“That’s courtesy of our newest artist.” Brian picked his latte, taking a sip. His head was throbbing, and he knew the coffee wouldn’t be enough to chase the hangover. He picked up the phone and pressed the digit to speed-dial Cynthia’s office.

“Good morning, Brian!” Her cheerful voice filled the room.

“The strongest painkiller you have. And the documents for the Eyeconics.”

“Sure thing, boss!”

“What the fuck is with everyone being so happy-go-lucky?”

“You’re just grumpy.”

Brian glared at him, but aimed his glare to a smiling Cynthia who chose that moment to step in their office. She lifted an eyebrow, and he shook his head. Brian was done with giving explanations. He took the pill with his coffee, ready to start the day.