kachelofen | FREE PASS, 1/1

A/N: I had a beta for the first time. The idea for the story came from a discussion between myself and moonbrightnites, who was also – you guessed it! – my beta. So, I can’t really claim that this was entirely my idea. I look on it more as a collaboration. Thank you so much, Michelle. It was great fun. ♥

Summary: Set around episode 212. The gang just learned that Brian and Ben had sex at the White Party two years ago. Justin can’t resist asking questions. What-if scenario.

Free Pass

As I slip into the booth at the diner, the atmosphere hits me like a wall. It’s unusual for Ben and Michael to not be talking and not be touching in some way and the space they left between them on the bench is obviously more than physical. It’s a little comforting to know that even these two have disagreements because sometimes I envy them their closeness. I don’t exactly wish for a relationship like theirs, but I definitely wish that mine included Brian being a little more demonstrative with me in public.

On the other hand, sitting here with them, when they’re like this, is definitely not comfortable. It reminds me of my parents when they had a row and were meticulously polite but otherwise ignoring each other at the breakfast table. Then it strikes me as amusing that I just compared Ben and Michael to my parents. They’re not that staid.

“How’s school going?” Ben asks me and it’s probably the first time that he’s making an effort to have a conversation with me. With him, more than with any of the others, I always feel like the teenager I technically still am. Even now he sounds a little paternal, but that may be because he’s a professor and this is how he talks to people my age.

I like Ben. I like how level-headed he can remain in the madness that is Liberty Avenue in general and the gang in particular. I like how he deals with his HIV status with no fuss or self-pity. I like how smart he is. And he’s hot. But that doesn’t mean that we’re best buddies and, quite frankly, I don’t think Michael would appreciate it. And Brian would probably mock me mercilessly for my choice of friends, like he mocks Michael for his choice of partners.

“Fine. We’re doing the Renaissance at the moment. It’s all right, but I prefer Modern Art. It’s difficult to produce Renaissance-type stuff on the computer.” I fall silent because I don’t like to draw attention to the fact that my hand still cramps up all the time. I already wish I hadn’t said as much as I did. Ben’s just the sort of person to enquire solicitously about my health.

“I can imagine,” he starts, but luckily that’s all he has time for, because Brian has just sauntered into the diner and sits down next to me with a cheery, “Good morning, ladies.”

I instantly forget all about my conversation with Ben. Brian always has that effect on me, especially when, like now, he puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me into a kiss. It brings me to the brink of forgetting my own name because this is not a ‘hello, how are you?’ kiss, which would be stupid anyway since we’ve been apart all of five minutes while he was parking the jeep. No, this is a ‘I wanna fuck you right here on this table’ kiss, complete with a thorough examination of the far recesses of my mouth. Did I say I wanted Brian to be more demonstrative? Well, this is a little more than that and, yes, it’s awesome.

When we’re done, he lets go of me and grabs the menu, which he undoubtedly knows inside out by now. I’m left slightly dazed, my heart thumping, my cheeks a little warm and I’m giddy with happiness, as I always am when Brian doesn’t shy away from showing everyone that we’re together. I look around furtively and there are a few envious stares from guys at the other tables, either because they don’t have anyone to do that with or, more likely, because they don’t have Brian Kinney.

Ben’s watching Brian openly with a small frown on his face and it suddenly occurs to me that the only person not looking is Michael. There’s nothing – no eye roll, no envious looks, no amused shake of the head. In fact, there’s no look at all. He’s aimlessly moving the remaining waffle on his plate and that weird way that he has holding his silverware makes him look like he’s just about to stab someone, most likely me. Or maybe Ben, given that they’re obviously in the middle of a spat.

Debbie comes up to us to take our orders and asks me if I can help her out, putting up pictures of dumpster boy all over Liberty Avenue. I don’t really want to, but this is important to her and I suppose I can spare a couple of hours after class today, although when she says she’s roped in Mom as well, I regret it instantly. I don’t want to be seen walking around Liberty Avenue with my mother. That’s just embarrassing. I wonder if this is how Michael feels all the time.

“I can help, Debbie,” Ben says, looking at her, daring her to say no, when she just pointed out how hard it is to get anyone to take an interest in the poor dead boy.

Debbie looks as if she simply wants to ignore the fact that he even exists, but then she nods and mumbles something that none of us can hear. “What about you, honey?” she addresses Michael.

“I’m busy today,” he mumbles, not really looking up.

“What crawled up your ass?”she grouses at him. “You still too busy mourning Captain Ass-tro to care about a real dead person?”

“I’m just busy, all right?” he practically shouts, pushing his plate forward so violently that it almost slides all the way off the table, eliciting a startled, “Hey, watch it!” from Brian as he blocks it from landing in his lap. Michael ignores him and gets up. “I have to open the store.” And with that he stomps out of the diner.

Now, there are a lot of things wrong with this picture. Michael isn’t usually this rude to his mother, no matter how exasperated he gets with her. He also doesn’t usually walk away from Ben without saying goodbye in some sickly sweet way as if one of them is going off to war. And he never ignores Brian. Now that I think about it, he and Brian didn’t kiss either, like they usually do when they meet. Instead, Brian kissed me.

I look at him and by the way he’s studiously not paying attention, I know that he’s not baffled by Michael’s behavior at all, which means that he knows what’s up with him. Interesting. Note to self: find out what’s going on. God, I hope they didn’t have a falling out again. I managed to fix it last time and I’m sure I can do it again, but until then, Brian will be like bear with a sore paw. Or, if I’m lucky, he’ll spend the extra time he’ll have giving some additional attention to my ass. That can’t be a bad thing. Hhm, ice cream kisses, we haven’t had any of those in a while.

Luckily, Brian’s no longer at the top of Debbie’s shit list. No, that dubious distinction has been transferred to her son’s boyfriend, whom she suspects of having targeted him deliberately for the sole purpose of infecting him with a deadly disease. “What did you do?”

“Don’t look at me!” Ben says, glaring at Brian.

Debbie turns to look at the other man whom she habitually blames for everything that goes wrong in her little darling’s life.

“Stay out of it, Deb,” Brian says calmly.

“The fuck I will!”

Brian sighs and gets up. “If you carry on like this, you won’t have any customers left,” he says and walks out without a backwards glance.

I can’t help feeling a little pissed off that my breakfast has been ruined – after starting so well with some unexpected tonsil hockey, too – and I’m trying to decide whether to blame Michael, Ben or Debbie for that. Judging from the way the other two are looking at me, they decided to blame me.

“What?” I ask a little heatedly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Brian didn’t say anything?” Ben asks quietly and if he didn’t sound so worried and desperate, I’d tell him to fuck off.

I shake my head. “Everything’s normal.”

Well, that’s not quite true. When I came back from visiting Mom and Molly on Saturday evening, I couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t at Babylon or Woody’s that night. So I assumed that, since there was no sign of Michael either, that they were off somewhere, doing whatever they do when they’re alone. Talking about comic books most likely.

Brian came home around midnight, completely smashed and proceeded to fuck me all night. Hey, I’m not complaining! And then on Sunday, we stayed in, watched DVDs, fucked, ate – and talked very little. I’m used to Brian having quiet periods and I don’t mind them as long as they’re not directed at me. He nodded in all the right places when I chatted to him, so I assumed he just had something on his mind. He gets like that sometimes when he has problems with an account.

But come to think of it, I can’t even remember the last time we stayed indoors for a whole Sunday. Brian’s not the hang-out-and-chill type.

“You must know something, Sunshine,” Debbie prods.

She thinks she’s so subtle. Call Justin ‘Sunshine’ to remind him that you’re almost his mother and have done a lot for him and he’ll tell you everything. Yeah, that’s not going to work.

“I don’t know anything,” I tell her. And if I did, I wouldn’t announce it at the diner, or anywhere else for that matter, because Brian would never speak to me again. I’m not stupid. I’ve always known that what happens or is said between us, stays between us. “What did Michael say?” I try to deflect the attention to Ben.

“He didn’t say a word all weekend. Almost literally.”

Debbie huffs and walks away without a word. Ben and I look at each other, confirming wordlessly that what we said wasn’t just a smoke screen for Debbie’s benefit, but the actual truth. I decide not to chance any further interrogations.

“I have to go,” I call out to Debbie, as I’m getting up. “Can you cancel my order? I’ll meet you here at four to put those posters up, ‘kay?”

“Okay, Sunshine.”

Debbie can never stay annoyed for long and someone should tell her that she’d have a lot less grief in her life, if she didn’t think that every little shift in Michael’s mood needs to be investigated and rectified – by her. Michael would probably be a lot happier that way, too.

*******

After a full day of classes, I spend two hours walking around Liberty Avenue and beyond, tacking lampposts and walls with pictures of a guy who, in some ways, looks so much like me that I’m beginning to wonder if there but for the grace of God... which is bullshit, of course, and I’m just a little tired.

When I get home, my day suddenly takes an unexpected upturn. I’ve been expecting Brian to be in a foul mood after what happened at the diner. It’s obvious that something’s going on with Michael, which always sets Brian off and I’ve been thinking about it for most of the day. I wonder if it has anything to do with Michael finding out that Brian fucked Ben at the White Party two years ago. That must sting.

Well, it will sting Michael, however irrational it might be. It’s not as if Ben cheated on him. It doesn’t bother me. In fact, I haven’t really thought about it since the night we all talked about it at Babylon, apart from imagining what Ben would be like in bed. But when I think about it now, Michael’s been a little weird with both Ben and Brian ever since. Brian, of course, ignores it, as he should. It was two years ago! No one cares. Even if Brian and I were in a monogamous relationship – and I pray to God that Brian doesn’t hear me even think that – what he did before wouldn’t matter. Michael’s just being his usual drama queen self. And I don’t think that’s the reason for Michael’s snit this morning either, because he was at least talking to both of them over the last few days. He wasn’t this morning.

Anyway, I’m not two steps into the loft when Brian pounces on me. It’s the beginning of a long, drawn-out fuck session that’s only interrupted by ordering dinner and eating it forty-five minutes later. Everything’s forgotten until we take a breather after round four, with him smoking and me wondering if he would allow me to rest my head on his chest, because sometimes he does – just don’t call it cuddling. But I’m too tired to move and the way he wiggles his toes against my leg could be construed as a caress anyway and you don’t ask Brian Kinney for more when he’s already giving you something.

“So what was up with Michael this morning?” Not very subtle, I know, but trying to trick Brian into revealing things that he doesn’t want to tell me almost never works. And if he catches me doing it, he’ll be annoyed.

“Leave Michael alone.”

Yes, definitely a problem with Michael, otherwise he would speculate with me or rather, let me speculate and grunt in the right places. Brian never talks about Michael, although nowadays he’s more amenable to listening to me when I do and even answers the odd question. I wonder if it works the other way round as well. Does he tell Michael anything about me? Probably not, otherwise I would know because Michael can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“I’m just wondering if it’s still about you fucking Ben.”

“Justin,” he says, half warningly and half resignedly. He knows full well that I won’t stop until I find out or he makes me shut up, by storming out, if I’m unlucky, or with his cock, if he’s in a good mood. And he wonders why I always chance it!

“Just saying... it was two years ago. He can’t hold that against Ben... or you.” I shoot him a glance as I say it to see if that’s what’s going on, but he just blows out smoke slowly and follows it with his eyes as it drifts towards the ceiling and disperses. Then he looks at me and it’s kind of intense.

“It has nothing to do with you, Justin.” The words are familiar, but they have nothing of their usual heat when he says them. His eyes have the same look they sometimes have when things are discussed in company that he wants me to keep quiet about. He looks at me then and I know he’s telling me that what he said to me before was for my ears alone. It always makes me feel warm and tingly because it’s so intimate, like a secret between us. So he’s obviously trying to tell me something without saying it. Only, I don’t understand what.

I smile. “Well, you don’t see me sulking because his boyfriend slept with... you.” Phew, that was close! Sometimes I forget that there are things I’m not supposed to say or even think and, quite frankly, I’m getting a little tired of it. But I don’t want this to deteriorate into a discussion about all the things we’re not.

“It’s not quite the same,” he says, watching me still and making me a little nervous.

“I know they’re monogamous, but still... you can’t count what happened before you met. That’s just stupid.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that for you to be in Michael’s shoes, it would be more like me fucking Michael.”

I grin. “Actually, it would be more like you fucking Daphn...” And suddenly about a hundred light bulbs go off in my head. My mouth is stuck in the perfect O position for a few moments, before I find my voice. “You fucked Michael?... When?”

“Saturday.” He keeps watching me closely, with his lips rolled in.

I’m still a little stunned. Didn’t really see that one coming. Then I can’t resist: “How was it?”

Brian laughs. It’s a real belly laugh and so rare for him that it makes me laugh, too.

“That’s all you have to say? Well, I can only hope for Michael’s sake that he gets the same reaction from Ben.”

He sounds... relieved. How did he expect me to react? Angry? Upset? Why would he think that? I’m jealous of Michael only for the things that I can never have: his shared history with Brian, the things he knows that I don’t and even that’s fading as I get to know more and more about Brian. If anything, Michael is jealous of me. I never felt like he was a threat to what Brian and I have. Brian’s not interested in Michael that way.

“Why’d you do it?” I’m genuinely curious. “I thought you didn’t fuck your friends.”

Brian shrugs. “He was upset about Ben and me and I said if he’s so curious what it was like for Ben, I’ll show him. Or something along those lines.”

I wonder if Brian is really so blind that he doesn’t know that Michael was jealous of Ben, not him. But I know that Brian and Michael’s friendship would most likely not survive if the truth was dragged out into the open and Brian knows it, too. He took a huge gamble.

“So you tried to call his bluff and instead he called yours?”

He glares at me and I shrug. It’s pretty obvious to me that he expected – and hoped for – a different outcome. But once he made his offer to Michael, he wouldn’t have backed down, no matter how many misgivings he had. Brian Kinney does not back down from a fuck. Of course, he would never admit that he miscalculated, especially with Michael, whom he knows so well.

“Do you think he’ll come round?” I ask, thinking that this might prove to be beyond even my mediation skills.

“He’ll get over it.” He’s looking back at the ceiling again.

“Will you?”

Snorting a little, he turns away to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray that’s placed on the wood surrounding the bed. “It was just a fuck.” He sounds unconcerned.

I’m wondering if Michael feels the same way. This is what he always wanted and it’s bound to have meant more to him than just a fuck. I’m not surprised that he was upset this morning. And it’s also pretty obvious that Ben doesn’t know yet. I really don’t know him well enough to predict how he’s going to react. He’d have to be deaf, blind and dumb if he hasn’t worked out by now that his boyfriend has a pretty serious crush on his best friend.

Brian turns back towards me and half-drapes himself over my naked body. “So, I’m off the hook for breaking the rules?” he asks with a smirk.

I smile softly, realizing how much he expected me to throw a tantrum about this or something. Of course, if I did, he would just tell me that he can fuck whomever he likes and then go out to prove it.

“You get one get-out-of-jail-free card,” I say jokingly.

“You mean like you did?”

I can feel my heart miss a beat. We never talked about that guy at Daphne’s party after the first morning. Still, I should have known that Brian wouldn’t forget something like that. He’s smiling still, but his eyes are flinty. I made a mistake, I know that. I’ve regretted it ever since and until now I thought that I was forgiven. In fact, I didn’t realize that Brian even cared.

Then I smile. He really does give a shit! Sometimes I forget that, when he takes guys into the backroom right in front of me, or disappears with some stranger after I begged him not to because someone just got murdered on Liberty Avenue.

“Yeah,” I say. “Looks like we’re both out of free passes, so we’d better behave from now on.” When he looks at me like that and smoothes my hair back, I’m convinced that I will never again be tempted to break the rules.

“Looks like,” he says and kisses me. And that’s the last time we talk about it.

*******

Working at the diner, I run into Michael and Ben all the time. For a few days, Michael sort of mumbles something whenever he sees me, but he doesn’t really look at me or talk to me. That would be quite all right, because Michael talking to me is not essential to my well-being, but Brian’s getting more and more snappy whenever I mention Michael’s name as time goes by and I wanna say something to fix this but don’t know what. ‘He misses you,’ is probably not going to cut it this time.

Sometimes I wonder how Michael and Brian’s friendship survived this long. It’s the most dysfunctional I’ve ever come across and neither one of them seems to have much of a clue about anything, so I can only assume that it was Michael forgiving Brian over and over again that kept it together. Which is part of the problem. And if Michael pulls stupid shit like not saying ‘no’ when Brian makes him clearly ill-advised offers, it’s debatable who should be forgiving whom. No wonder Debbie’s at her wits’ end with the both of them after all these years.

I just want Brian to stop hurting.

On Friday, when I start my shift, I see Ben in one of the booths. It’s unusual to see him in here on his own. He gets hit on a lot, which isn’t really what he comes here for, the food is not what he prefers and Debbie doesn’t exactly make him feel welcome. So if Michael doesn’t turn up within the next ten, fifteen minutes, I can safely assume that he’s here for me, which is pretty obvious judging by the look he gives me anyway. I decide not to wait for him to make his move.

“Can I have five minutes before I start?” I ask Debbie. “I’ll make it up at the end.”

“Yeah, you will,” she says, popping her gum and watching me take a seat opposite Ben.

“Hey, Ben,” I try an upbeat tone.

“Hey, Justin. You know, don’t you?”

Wow, talk about getting straight to the point!

“I do now. I didn’t when I last saw you.” Ben is a nice guy. I don’t want to have a falling out with him, although maybe with what happened, he won’t be around much longer. I’m beginning to see Brian’s point that if everybody just fucked around, there would be a lot less break-ups.

“Why are you not upset?”

“Hello, have you met Brian? If I got upset every time he fucks someone, I would do nothing but.”

“Ah yes, I forgot that he’s the whore of Liberty Avenue and you’re his apprentice.”

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about catching anything because your boyfriend slept with the ‘whore of Liberty Avenue’.”

There’s a stunned silence between us, in which I blush furiously for having dealt such a low blow. I can only assume that he hit a sore point with me and I always get annoyed when people badmouth Brian in front of me, whether they’re right or not.

“I’m sorry,” we both say simultaneously and smile for the first time.

“How’d you find out?” I ask.

“Michael finally broke down and told me, about half an hour ago.”

Well, that explains why he hasn’t found his usual serenity yet and is lashing out at innocent bystanders, namely me. There’s a pause while neither one of us quite knows what to say. I look over to Debbie, who’s still watching us, probably trying to work out what’s going on and wonder how she will react. If Brian and Michael don’t manage to patch this up, she’ll no doubt side with her son, because poor little Michael can’t possibly be even partially to blame for this.

And then it dawns on me that this has the potential to screw everything up in our little group. Everybody will take sides and in the end Brian will be left with only me. Well, I suppose with the exception of Michael and Debbie, he won’t miss anyone, although sometimes I think he’s a lot fonder of Ted and Emmett than he admits. And Lindsay will try and run saintly interference and I’m really not looking forward to that.

“What are you going to do?” I ask quietly. I don’t want anyone in the adjacent booths to overhear us because Debbie’s not above interrogating complete strangers when she’s on a mission. It’s debatable whether any of the customers in the diner are complete strangers to her anyway.

“I don’t know. Depends on where Michael wants to take it from here.”

Well, that sounds more like Ben. He must be utterly smitten with Michael because, quite frankly, I don’t get how their relationship works. I mean, Ben’s a professor, what do they even talk about? But then again, I’m sure a lot of people think that about Brian and me, too.

“Well, if he wants to take it to Brian, it’s not gonna happen. Brian’s not interested.”

Ben looks annoyed for a moment and maybe I would be, too, if someone spoke to me about Brian like that. It sounded very disdainful. But then he just breathes deeply in a soundless sigh.

“It’s not about what Brian and Michael are going to do or not do. I know that Brian’s not going to replace you with Michael. Everybody knows that. It’s more about what Michael wishes.”

I give myself a few moments to float on the blissful cloud his words catapulted me onto. Everybody knows that. It always makes me happy when I realize that other people consider us a couple as a matter of course. It makes Brian’s refusal to acknowledge that we’re in a relationship almost irrelevant at times.

“Brian’s just a crush,” I say and give him an encouraging smile. I can see his point. Nobody wants to be with someone who wants to be with someone else. “He just had to get it out of his system.” Of course, I have no idea if that’s even true. Everybody always said my love for Brian was just a crush, too. What I do know is that things are different with Ben than they were with David. I always felt that Michael was only with David because he couldn’t have Brian and Brian was no longer solo. I think David knew it, too. But with Ben there seems to be a real attachment on Michael’s side, which makes it all the more inexplicable that he risked it all for sex with Brian.

“I hope so,” Ben says and looks at me closely. “You really don’t have a problem with this, do you?”

I shrug. “Why would I? Things are different with Brian and me. I don’t have a problem with him fucking you either and Michael obviously does.”

“It’s not the same,” he says a little indignantly and he’s right. Michael can’t really claim that as an excuse for what he did.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that things don’t bother me the way they bother Michael.” I pause and then decide to chance it because I really wanna know and Brian will never tell me. “Can I ask you something very personal?”

“Okay.”

“At the White Party, were you already positive?”

He nods.

“Did you tell Brian?”

“No.”

I nod, a little surprised.

“I never do with casual partners. I’m always really careful and if the other guy wants to do something that would put him at risk, I would obviously tell him, but in general I don’t. At places like that, you always assume that the guy you’re hooking up with is infected with all sorts of things anyway and protect yourself accordingly. At least, if you’re smart, you do. Brian was at no more risk from me than he’s every night. He was careful. I assume he always is.”

That’s true. I’ve never felt endangered by Brian in any way. He would not do that to me. I want you safe. And I want you around for a long time.

“I told Michael straight away,” he adds a little defensively.

“I know. Michael said.”

Ben huffs a humorless laugh and I smile. I suppose the gang’s obsessive need to share intimate details at the breakfast table in the diner takes a little getting used to.

“Did you just come here to tell me?” I ask because this conversation doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and I should really start my shift.

“Of course not. I was looking for someone to be miserable with. You know, misery loves company and all that.”

“Sorry I can’t supply that.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you’re okay.”

I smile again. He really is a nice guy and I hope he and Michael can work it out, because I wouldn’t mind Ben sticking around for a while. I get up and kiss him on the cheek before I go into the back to find my apron. I can’t decide whom I feel sorrier for – Ben, Michael or Brian. It’s a really fucked up situation. And at the back of my mind one thought comes back to me from our conversation. No one wants to be with someone who wants to be with somebody else. Doesn’t that apply to me as well? Only, in Brian’s case, it’s a whole bunch of somebodies. I clamp down on that thought until it goes away and when I come back out of the kitchen, Ben’s gone and I have to dodge Debbie’s questions for two hours before she gives up.

*******

Of course, now that Ben knows, Michael no longer has any incentive to keep his mouth shut about what happened. On Sunday, Debbie takes me to one side and asks me solicitously how I am ‘with all that happened’. For a moment, I’m wondering if she doesn’t know anything and is just sounding me out, but when I give a cautious ‘okay’, she follows her question with, “Brian and Michael have pulled some stupid fucking stunts in their time, but this time they’ve really outdone themselves. Didn’t they stop to think how much this would hurt you?”

“Uhm... I think it hurt Ben more. I’m all right.”

“Well, hopefully it’ll take care of Ben. And I always knew you’re a brave little kid. You don’t have to pretend with me.” She pinches my cheek and I know it’ll be futile to try and persuade her that I really am okay with the situation.

Debbie has done a lot for me and I love her to bits, but sometimes she really is blind. What is it with mothers that makes them think they know what and who is best for their children? I’ve seen how miserable Michael’s been over the past few days and I don’t think it’s because of Brian or, at least, not just because of Brian.

But, on the upside, Debbie doesn’t seem to blame the usual culprit in this because when I leave, she tells me to ‘tell Brian to get his ass in here. I haven’t seen him for nearly a week and I want to know how he’s doing.’ Boy, she must really hate Ben if she thinks that this situation is preferable to what it was before.

I realize that Ted knows when he fails to meet my eyes even once while he’s ordering breakfast on Monday morning. It’s a little frustrating that everyone treats me like a betrayed housewife, but I really don’t care enough what Ted thinks of me to speak to him about it.

Emmett sashays in ten minutes later and enfolds me in a consoling hug, while he mumbles a tearful ‘my poor little lamb’. And I decide that enough is enough. Pushing him off, I look him in the eye and state clearly: “I don’t care. Brian doesn’t care. The only person who cares is Michael. And Ben. Go and hug Ben. He might need it. I don’t.”

He looks a little surprised, but I’m in no mood to discuss this with him and just turn on my heels to get the food for table seven. Emmett sits down and I can hear him say, “That boy’s so fucking brave,” to Ted, making me want to tip the plate over his head or bang my head against the nearest surface till I pass out.

After two hours at the diner to cover the breakfast rush and a full day at PIFA, trying to paint a ‘still life with laptop’ in the Renaissance style while my hand cramps up every five minutes, I come back to the loft a little frustrated, to find Brian reading on the couch. There’s a lingering smell of weed in the air.

“Hey,” he says and turns back to his book.

I’m not in the mood for small talk, so I march over to stand in front of him and glare down until he looks up.

“When are you going to sort out this mess with Michael?”

“Keep out of it. It’s none of your business.”

“Have you spoken to Michael yet?”

“Haven’t had time. I’ve been busy.” He returns his attention to his book.

“Well, make time! Take half an hour out of your busy schedule fucking yourself into oblivion every night and reading...” I grab the book off him and look at the title, “...James Dean: The Mutant King?” I toss it on the coffee table. “Go and talk to him.”

“What’s it to you?” he asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

“I’m sick and tired of being treated like my boyfriend cheated on me. If one more person comes up to me, expecting me to be upset by what happened, I swear I’m gonna punch them. Go and fix it, so that everything can go back to normal.”

He peers up at me and smirks. “You’re hot when you’re pissed off.”

And with that all the blood drains from my brain to a different part of my body altogether and by the time that I land in his lap after he tugs on my wrist, I’ve forgotten that I was angry or what it was about.

When we’re in the shower afterwards, he washes me gently and says, “I’m not your boyfriend.” His voice is soft and I wonder why he always has to pull this bullshit. Would it have been too much to ask that he just let that remark go?

“I know,” I say, too sated and content to be really upset. “But we live together and people assume shit. They don’t understand.”

“As long as you do.” His eyes are warm on me and I have to ask myself why I’m even trying to fix this. He’s been a lot softer since it all happened, spending more time with me and opening up a bit more. Having Michael out of the picture can only benefit me. But there’s an underlying sadness around him that breaks my heart, even more so because he won’t admit that anything’s bothering him.

“Go and talk to him, Brian. He’s your best friend.”

Brian just kisses me and then fucks me against the glass wall.

*******

Brian must have listened to me because two days later Michael’s at Babylon with us and it’s almost as if nothing ever happened. Of course, I’m too caught up in hating my dad and having to find money for my next semester to pay much attention. All I notice is that over the next two or three weeks, Brian spends less time with me again, but that may also be caused by the disagreement we’re having. He wants me to accept money from him and I’m fed up with being dependent. It gets even worse when I start working at Babylon. However much Brian tells the others that I’m just finding a way to stand on my own two feet, I know that he hates it. For a while, I suspect him of being jealous but that just wouldn’t be Brian and when I have a narrow escape at the Sap’s party, I realize that maybe he does know a little more about these things than I do.

Once I’ve accepted Brian’s money, I feel kind of relieved. It was getting really hard to find the time to go to class and I had trouble to even get out of bed in the morning. It’s better this way and while I would’ve preferred to find the money myself, I love that Brian does these things for me. He can talk about investment all he likes, I know what I know.

Michael has other things on his mind, too. Divina Devore is performing at Babylon and turns out to be his father. I suppose we all have our crosses to bear where fathers are concerned. Of course, Michael’s freaking out and Brian spends a lot of time with him, despite seeming to find the whole episode rather amusing.

So about a month after it all happened, people have stopped trying to console me, mainly because the incident never gets mentioned. Michael and Brian seem to be back to normal and even Ben has returned. Or maybe he was never gone and I just never saw him when he was around. I’ve been insanely busy. I haven’t seen much of Michael either, but he’s at Babylon with us tonight.

Brian’s completely high and feeding me E by his preferred method, tongue to tongue. Everything’s bright and beautiful, hmmm, isn’t that a hymn or something? I end up at the bar, where I’m trying to stay hydrated and guarding Brian’s water, while he’s off somewhere, doing something or someone.

“I’m really sorry,” Michael says, suddenly appearing next to me.

I’m a little confused – what’s he done now? – but too hyper to care. I bounce on the balls of my feet and play with a pen I found lying on the bar.

“About... you know, me and Brian,” he carries on when I don’t say anything. God, not him as well!

“Don’t worry about it,” I say.

“But I do. It was a terrible thing to do to you and Ben.”

I look around for Brian, but he’s probably in the back room. If I wasn’t so high, I wouldn’t ask, but I’m curious. “How was it?”

“Awful.”

That really makes me check that nobody is paying attention.

“I hope you’re not going round telling people he’s a bad fuck.” I don’t know what annoys me more about that idea, that it isn’t true or that Brian would hate it.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean it like that. The sex was great. It’s just that...”

“...you weren’t after the sex.”

He looks surprised, then shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t.”

I can almost feel sorry for the guy because I can remember how I felt when Brian told me it was just a fuck after our first night together. How do I know that’s what Brian said to him afterwards? Because I know that it would have been awkward and in those situations Brian always lashes out to cover up how uncomfortable he is. I know Brian.

I’ve started doodling on an abandoned coaster on the bar.

“Why aren’t you angry or upset?” Michael shouts over the music.

“Because Brian does this all the time. I’m used to it.”

“Yeah, but this is different, isn’t it?”

“Not for Brian and me, it wasn’t.”

“Oh.”

I’m really way too high for this conversation. The figure on the coaster is starting to take shape. I’m modelling him after one of the go-go dancers, feeling relieved that it’s no longer me up there. It’s hard to draw on the soft material with a ballpoint pen and I’m just happy that I can manage it with my hand and that I’m here and that everything’s beautiful. That was really good stuff that Brian gave me.

Michael’s watching me. “He’s too hot to be a coaster,” he tells the bartender when he tries to put a bottle on it.

“That’s the magic of Ecstasy,” I tell him, having completely forgotten about our conversation. “Everybody looks good.”

“Good? He’s practically a superhero. All he needs is a spandex body suit and he’s ready to save the universe.” Michael really is a geek, but tonight I think it’s fun.

I look at the figure. Michael’s right, he looks almost like a superhero, so we spin out this conversation a little longer with increasingly outrageous ideas about superpowers and insignias until we end up with E-man.

We’re both giggling and someone slings an arm around both of us. Brian. I would know him without looking. “What are you girls all giggly about?” He picks up the coaster, taps it against my nose and playfully tells me that there will be no more drugs for me.

Ted offers to buy a round and tells us that Fetch Dixon has been nominated for an award. Hopefully, that’ll cheer Emmett up a bit. He’s taking George’s death very hard. I think he really liked the guy, difficult as it is to get my head around that. It must have been awful to be stuck in that toilet with him. I miss having Emmett around because he’s always so much fun.

Then Brian removes the pen from my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor with him.

I’m bouncing more than dancing and Brian’s just swaying and eventually puts his arms on my shoulders, playing with my hair and barely moving.

“Michael apologized to me.”

“What for?”

“The fuck.”

“Ah, that,” he nods a few times, pre-occupied with finding just the right spot on my neck to suck on. “Yeah, he should.”

“Well, if you think that, doesn’t that mean that you should apologize as well?”

“I don’t believe in the same things that he does. He’s the one who believes that you should be faithful to your boyfriend and that you shouldn’t fuck other people’s boyfriends. I don’t.”

I lean my head back to give his mouth better access to where he wants to put it. Despite my intoxication and, you know, being distracted by what he’s doing to a point of incoherence, I suddenly catch on to what he said. Although I’m pretty certain that he hasn’t.

I grin broadly.

Life really is beautiful.

The End.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

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Wow, Betty!!! What an awesome story and such a brilliant what-if scenario!!! Thank you very much and you know I love you, right? ;))) Huge warm hugs from Rena ♥

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