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.

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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.