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.

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

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.

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

"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?"

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

"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."

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

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.