This story was inspired by Brian/Justin/Ethan videos on YouTube featuring some of the following songs: David Cook – Lie, Alexandra Burke – The Silence, Simple Plan – Your Love Is A Lie, The Marbleheads – When He Kisses You, Bobby Vee – Sharing You, Eminem feat. Rihanna – Love The Way You Lie.
We used some of the lyrics inside the story too.

Another night he was studying late.

Another project that kept him late at the library.

Another lie.

It had been going on for a while. Far too long, in fact, for Brian's liking. No matter how much he willed it to stop, it kept happening: Justin would fail to come home, claiming he was busy with school. Eventually, he would return to the loft, an air of secrecy and guilt surrounding him. Then, before Brian could get to him, Justin would slip in the shower alone.

Brian didn't need a flashing sign to know what Justin was doing. He was breaking their rules, again, and Brian was at a loss. He had no idea how to approach the subject. He wasn't even sure he wanted to talk about it. Talking made it real. Besides, what the fuck would he even say? Brian doubted there was anything that could be said to salvage things. At least, not anything he was willing to say. He wasn't going to beg. He wouldn't offer up pitiful outpourings of affection. No fucking way.

He knew Justin was slipping through his fingers, and as much as he vehemently denied having any feelings towards the twat, something was gnawing at his gut when he thought of Justin with someone else. It was an ugly feeling, one which had wormed its way underneath his skin and which he couldn't manage to rid himself of.

Brian was walking on broken glass; he knew it, but he didn't want to admit to it out loud. Confronting Justin was no easy feat. Once said, the words couldn't be taken back, and then it would be over. Then again, if whatever he and Justin had was coming to an end, Brian supposed he would prefer for it to end fast.

The clock read two o'clock in the morning. It was around that time Justin usually returned, offering him a smile and blowing him a kiss on his way to wash off the evidence of the past hours of his life. Most nights, Brian would end up sitting on the edge of their bed, listening to the pipes rumbling and the water rushing, painfully aware of the silence stretching between them. He had become resentfully resigned to this sorrowful activity. How could this have happened to him? How did he end up in this ridiculous situation, being cheated on and being made to feel rejected and lonely? Fuck – he hated this. He hated dwelling on this shit.

In a weak attempt to distract himself, Brian started organizing his briefcase for work. As he gathered some files he'd need in the morning, he found a CD case hidden amongst them. He stared at the man on the cover and his violin for minutes. This person was a total stranger to him, but how familiar must he be to Justin by now? Brian could recall how Justin was once obsessed with knowing him, with mapping him out and discovering him. Is that what he was busy doing with this other man? The thought made Brian ill.

What does he have that I don't?

Disgusted, Brian threw the case across his desk, and started pacing in wait for Justin. That was it – he was going to do something about this mess they were in. Though, if they put too much light on this they'd see through all the cracks. They could stay in the dark for one more night. Brian accepted the silence, but the truth he didn't want to hear, staring him in the face was scary as shit. The truth was going to change everything.

oOo

Justin stared unblinking at a spot on the floor. He was vaguely aware of Ethan's warm body behind him and his fingers stroking his arm.

All he could think of was Brian. It had never been his intention to hurt him, but since Brian would never give him what he needed, he found it in another place. And now he was stuck in the middle. At first it had felt like he was suspended in limbo, but now it was starting to feel like a tug of war. He was beginning to dread the end result, which he suspected would be him being torn limb for limb.

While Justin's love belonged to Brian, he was overwhelmingly drawn to Ethan, who gave him everything he wanted. So where did he belong? Justin felt like he didn't belong to either man. Brian was sharing him with Ethan, and Ethan was sharing him with Brian. It wasn't fair to either of them, or to him. But try as he might, Justin couldn't figure out what to do.

His love for Brian was persistent; it remained a part of him even at the worst of times. He wanted for that to be enough, but lately it simply wasn't. There were still plenty of good times – great times, actually – when Brian made him feel alive, adored, ablaze with passion. But then there were the times when Justin felt outcast and unwanted. It was alarming how quickly Brian could switch from one to the other; it was enough to give Justin whiplash.

Ethan never did that. Ethan was always willing to give. Ethan never made him feel lonely or unloved. Why couldn't Brian give him that? Why couldn't it be that simple?

How the fuck did he end up here?

Closing his eyes for the first time in the past hour, he took a shuddering breath. It was time to head home. That's what the loft had always felt like – home. It had been so for a long while now. Lately, though, Justin felt out of place there. He longed to return to that place where he'd once been, where Brian was his and the loft was theirs. It didn't feel that way anymore. Everything was murky grey and uncertain. Still, he couldn't stay here all night. He couldn't keep Brian waiting and worrying.

Is he waiting and worrying? Does he even care?

With a violent shove, Justin pushed those thoughts far from his mind. He couldn't deal with that right now. It was time to go. He winced as Ethan's arms squeezed him, as if he had sensed that Justin was preparing to depart. Silently, he extracted himself from Ethan's affectionate embrace.

Justin wasn't sure how long this game was going to last. He was playing with fire. It was becoming too much for him; hiding from Brian, holding himself back from giving himself completely to Ethan, knowing that there were two people who cared about him on their own level of feeling love, that there were two people kissing him, missing him, wishing he was with them. Wishing there were two of him, probably. That would make it so much simpler – if he could split himself in two, and give each of them one.

While Justin got dressed, he avoided eye-contact with Ethan. He was hurting two people he loved very much. Before he could slip out the door, Ethan kissed him promising to meet the next day. It was so unbearably bittersweet hearing that promise uttered. Justin knew Ethan would keep that promise, but would he ever be able to return the favor? Should he? He felt as conflicted as he did guilty.

He realized Brian suspected he was lying about his school projects every night, but he knew Brian would never kick him out, or break up on his own. Breaking up meant admitting they had a relationship to begin with, which they didn't. At least, not according to Brian. Justin wished he could figure out what the fuck it was Brian thought they did have. Sure, it wasn't traditional or simple, but it was something, wasn't it? Justin had thought he'd known what it was, once, but the sense of certainty he'd once known had long since disappeared.

On the way home, Justin almost envisioned what was going to happen. He'd get into the loft, greet Brian, run for the shower to wash off Ethan's scent and the smell of sex, before getting in bed with Brian. He felt a wave of sickness hit him. How could he do this? How could he willingly allow Brian to touch him and kiss him and fuck him after mere hours earlier another man had been doing the very same things. What the fuck was wrong with him?

All Justin could hope was making it though another night. With each passing night, his heart kept getting more and more torn. Soon, it would shatter completely. It was inevitable. He knew it was coming, but it terrified him nonetheless. What would become of him? He didn't want to know what the outcome might be. No, that was too fucking frightening. He had to keep pretending everything was going to be okay. He could sustain the lies and pretend that he was really busy with projects. He could do that, if only for a little longer.

The end was near, though. He could feel it, smell it, taste it in the air as he stepped into the loft. It was wrapped tightly around him, constricting him, making it harder and harder for him to breathe.

oOo

The loft's door sliding open announced Brian the wayward twat had returned. A wave of bitterness crashed into Brian, along with a flood of dreaded questions that he didn't dare ask: Where were you tonight? You were with him, weren't you? What were the two of you doing?

As question after question filled his mind, the bitterness intensified. Again, he wondered how this could have happened. How the fuck did he end up here?

Justin tried making his now usual route to the bathroom, but Brian stopped him. He claimed he preferred Justin's smell, which he usually did. Not at the moment when it was mixed with a horrible cheap-ass cologne and the fiddler's sweat. It made Brian's stomach turn. As the scent hit him, so did intrusive thoughts of how it had gotten there. What had the two of them been doing? Where had Justin been touched? Did he touch his lover back? Was it the same with him as it was with them? Fuck – he couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something, anything, to get these nauseating questions the fuck out of his head.

Justin looked so innocent, yet the guilt in his voice as he attempted to escape approaching Brian gave him away. Brian reached for the one solution he could think of. As Brian kissed Justin in a carnal way, he tried to show him he wouldn't find what they had anywhere else. He tried to communicate without words all the insane feelings swarming around inside of him. He felt as though failure was imminent, but he wasn't ready to admit to that yet.

So he kept going. Brian smashed his mouth to Justin's. How does it feel when you kiss, when you know that I trust you?

He sniffed at Justin's clothes, fighting the disgust consuming him. Do you think about me when he fucks you?

Justin gasped into Brian's mouth, returning the kiss. He was trying to apologize and make things right, but both of them knew full well that it was too late.

Brian's kiss told Justin all that he couldn't voice: you can tell me that there's nobody else, you can tell me that you're home by yourself, you can look into my eyes and pretend all you want, but I know, I know, your love is just a lie.

He had no idea how Justin could live this parallel life. How was it possible for Justin to split himself in two like that? To live with him, whilst stealing away to someone else, then returning home as if nothing had happened? Brian had never felt so betrayed, full of rage, and painfully manipulated in his life.

Alive with crackling lust and a consuming sense of possessiveness, Brian pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses on Justin's neck. Their eyes met for a brief moment.

When he kisses you on the neck, do you think of me I used to make you scream?

When he's holding you the way I used to, do you know how it's making me burn inside?

When he's deep inside of you, does he look at you the way I used to? The way I still do.

Justin saw everything in Brian's eyes. He knew. If not everything, then he knew something. And it hurt him. It gutted him.

Seeing such raw emotions from Brian gave Justin a spark of hope. Hope that Brian could open up, desperate to keep Justin around. He returned the rough kiss with everything he had.

Say you love me! Say you need me! Don't let the silence do the talking. Just say you want me, or you don't need me. It's killing me.

Brian pushed Justin to the floor, removing his shirt. Justin tried hiding regret in his smile. He knew Brian would smell him any moment now, better than he could before, and the truth would be plainly evident. The storm in Justin's eyes was something Brian had seen coming for a while. They were headed to the eye of the tornado.

Brian returned to devouring Justin's mouth, biting his chin. His pained moans were more unspoken words.

So lie to me and tell me that everything will be alright. So lie to me and tell me that we'll make it through the night. I don't mind if you wait before you tear me apart. Look me in the eye.

Lie, lie, lie.

You've gotten so good at lying, Sunshine. What's another small lie?

I love the way you lie.

Justin failed to see the silent words Brian was trying to communicate. He was focused on the way Brian was making him feel. His skin felt on fire, every part of his body Brian touched burst into flames.

When Brian unsnapped Justin's jeans and his hand brushed his dick, Justin was sure he'd combust. He hadn't been this turned on in so long. Brian had always made him lose his head, but that night he was on a mission to make Justin explode.

Brian leaned in for another kiss. It was suddenly too much. He knew he couldn't go on with what he'd started.

Smelling and tasting another man on Justin was pure torture. He couldn't bite his tongue forever, while Justin tried to play it cool, hiding behind his little stories. Justin couldn't fool him, and it was time he found out. So he pulled away, bringing their heated coupling to a painfully abrupt halt.

"Why did you stop?" Justin whimpered, lost in pleasure. His lust-filled eyes met dark hazel ones, staring stonily at him. "Brian?"

"Go take a shower," Brian rasped, pushing away from Justin's sprawled body. "You stink."

This is my and ebbj989 (on ao3) first collaboration. We hope you enjoyed it.
The last part coming soon. :)