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.

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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.