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."

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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."

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.