'Your go sweetie.' Emmett prods, turning to face Michael.

It's nine thirty on a Friday night and we're sitting in Woody's trying to kill time before heading over to Babylon. We've already tried our hand at pool but that was a total bust seeing as neither me or Emmett are any good, Ted was too depressed to concentrate properly and Ben always lets Michael win anyway.

So we grabbed a table instead and started up a good old fashioned round of truth telling. Well Emmett did anyway, I'm just along for the ride, not-so patiently waiting it out until Brian finally finishes up at work and gets his ass over here.

If I'm honest, things have been a bit strained between me and the gang since the whole Ethan fiasco finally limped to its inevitable conclusion, not that they act differently around me or anything- well, no one but Michael anyway, and it's not like I didn't see that one coming from a mile off- it's just that I don't feel as comfortable being back here as I thought I would.

Believe me, back when I was having to force myself to sit through the pretentious soirees hosted by Ethan's friends, drinking cheap booze and listening to them drone on about the latest humanitarian crisis or government controversy as if any of them had the first clue how to go about fixing their hair let alone the entire planet, I'd have given anything to be here again, surrounded by people who talked with their hearts instead of out of their asses and who cared about what was actually right not just what was oh-so politically correct.

But now that I'm here it doesn't quite feel like it used to, everything's the same but a little bit different, these people that I took for granted as constants in my life have moved on in my absence, changing in ways I wouldn't have predicted and leaving me feeling like an outsider in the very group I once fought tooth and claw to get to the heart of.

Even Ben seems more at home here than I do now, leaning back in his chair with an arm draped casually over Michael's shoulder- not that I envy him that of course, especially as his boyfriend's currently flashing a none too attractive, rabbit caught in headlights look as he tries unsuccessfully to come up with a decent question for Emmet's game. 'Umm...what's your favorite thing to do in bed?'

Christ.

And I thought Ted's ten-minute lament about the injustice of Jerk at Work's closure was going to be the low point of the evening. How wrong was I?

Across the table Emmett snickers, causing Michael to blush red and stammer. 'I don't mean just listing the stuff you like, we can all do that...I'm talking about the single hottest act you've ever participated in, the thing that gets you off like nothing else, the thing you can't help but fantasize about late at night even though it makes your cheeks blush red in the dark .'

A slightly stunned silence follows his speech in which I think I just might have seriously underestimated dear old Mikey and that maybe this evening could get interesting after all.

'Like for me,' he continues, pausing to throw a shy smile in Ben's direction, 'it would be the feeling of being tied up, I remember the first time Ben and me tried it and it was the most intense thing I'd ever felt. My arms...'

Or then again, maybe not.

I start to fade out, already feeling slightly nauseous. Michael having sex is one of those things that you suppose must happen now and again, but spend the majority of your time convincing yourself never does. It's kind of like thinking about your grandparents going at it or something. Unless you want to scar yourself for life, it's just best not to go there.

Besides, the whole bondage thing isn't exactly a surprise, Brian told me once that Ben's super into all that stuff and that he'd practically begged Brian to restrain him that time they'd hooked up at the white party.

I couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks after he'd told me, sometimes on the mornings when Brian had to go into work early and I didn't have classes until the afternoon, I'd lay back in bed and let my hand drift slowly downwards, stroking lightly as I pictured Ben spread out on white sheets, fingers clasping the headboard tightly as the muscles in his forearms strained and danced under Brian's touch.

I imagined how Brian would tease him, how he'd smile as he drew out the moment mercilessly, watching with hooded eyes as the professor finally lost his legendary cool and slowly came undone beneath him. I'd groan and squeeze tighter as I pictured the sweat breaking out over Ben's body, the large, warm droplets sliding across his bronzed skin as he threw back his head and panted helplessly at the delicious dirtiness of it all.

For no one knows better than me how beautiful Brian Kinney is when he's in complete control. Other people may enjoy wielding it and some can fake it convincingly, but no one else knows how to own it quite like he does, why, just the thought of the way he revels in each and every last scorching second of it makes my breathe catch and my dick twitch painfully in my pants.

That's why no matter how erotic the thought of Ben being tied up is, no matter how achingly close I'd get picturing his powerful body being captured and tamed, every last inch of him stretched out and willingly offered up to be teased, it was always the image of Brian, predatory and commanding above him, that would push me screaming over the edge.

During the darker days with Ethan, when I'd lie awake at three in the morning, unsatisfied and itching for something that I no longer had the right to ask for, I sometimes thought that maybe he'd conditioned me against my knowledge, training me to come to the sound of his voice or touch of his hand like those dogs that only get hungry when they hear a bell ringing.

It's not that Ethan was bad in bed. He wasn't. In fact he was sweet and generous and attentive, all the things any normal person could have wished for, but somehow whenever I got close to shooting I'd always find my eyes closing and pictures of Brian stealing across my vision. Brian with his head thrown back as he danced to a beat no one else could hear at Babylon, Brian barefooted and relaxed as he stretched out on the couch and watched some old movie, Brian pausing between thrusts to fix me with a serious, loaded gaze, whispering my name like it was the answer to every question life had ever asked of him. Brian. Always Brian.

I should have given up and gone home to him the first time I found it happening, just admitted defeat instead of stringing both myself and Ethan along any further. I should have, but of course I didn't. I was far too proud for that. Proud and guilty and so very scared that it was already too late, that I'd run all the way back to the loft only to find the door locked and security code changed when I got there.

I shudder now when I think about how close I came to losing him, how near I was to never being able to touch him again, to never hearing that funny little sigh he makes just before he falls asleep or feeling his legs reach out to tangle up in mine in the middle of the night.

It could all have been so different but for a few little words, 'No' instead of 'Yes', 'Fuck off' instead of 'Welcome back', 'I never cared about you' instead of 'I missed you'. Not that Brian's ever actually said any of that out loud of course, god forbid the stud of Liberty Avenue should ever risk damaging his hard-won reputation, but then he never really needed to. With Brian it's always been about what he does rather than what he says and, though I may have forgotten that for a while, I remember it well enough now to be able to read between the lines.

It's like when he took me to Babylon two nights after we got back together. It would have been so easy for him to have spent the night cruising other guys, pulling them roughly into the backroom and showing me and everyone else present exactly how little the return of the prodigal Sonny-Boy meant to him.

He could have, but he didn't.

Instead he led me right to the center of the dance floor, pressed himself up tight against me and spent the next hour kissing and stroking me in plain sight of everybody.

I can't remember a time when he'd ever been that gentle with me, draping himself over me like a love-struck kid and staring at me like he couldn't quite believe I was really there with him, unwilling to let so much as an inch of space get between us in case I were to suddenly disappear on him again.

It was incredible and overwhelming and so unexpectedly sweet that it almost made me want to cry. Not that I let myself of course, the rare times Brian lets his guard down like that you have no choice other than to ignore it, any recognition of his behavior or display of affection on your part and he'll close back up so quick you'll wonder if you actually did just see a softer side to him or whether you simply dreamed it.

No, even though it was killing me not to tell him how grateful I was, how happy it made me to be back in his life and how if I'd have had any brains at all I never would have left him in the first place, I bit my tongue and just let it all wash over me, enjoying the moment while it lasted and storing it up in preparation for the next time he acted like an asshole and I started wondering why I'd ever wanted to come back to him in the first place.

'Justin, baby?'

'Huh?' I asked, jumping a little in my seat as I tuned back in to my surroundings, flushing as I felt the weight of everyone's gaze upon my face.

'It's your turn.' Ben smiled encouragingly, his eyes kind in a way that made me feel bad for having ever used him as jerk off material in the past.

'Oh, um, what was the question again?' I asked, as if I could forget. Really I was just stalling for time, annoyed at myself for daydreaming when I should have been thinking up an answer. For most people it would probably have been a pretty easy decision, but when you've spent the better part of the last three years being schooled in the art of lovemaking by the renowned sexual savant that is Mr. Brian Kinney, the job of narrowing down your experiences to pick just one favorite becomes a hell of a lot harder.

'What's you're favorite thing to do in bed?' Ted supplies a little too eagerly, the downcast expression he's been wearing for weeks now suddenly clearing at the thought of getting a much sought after insight into the gay Mecca that is Brian's bedchamber.

I'd have laughed at the obviousness of his hero-worship if I hadn't been so guilty of it myself.

'Yes, do tell baby, I can't even begin to imagine all the naughty things the two of you must get up to.' Emmett teases, his smile only half hiding the genuine curiosity that lies behind his words.

No matter how much might have changed while I was gone, it was strangely reassuring to know that some things would always remain the same; love him or loathe him, everybody wants Brian.

'Ok, well there is this one thing that I particularly like.' I say, unsure how wise it is to talk about this in front of one person who's already slept with him, one who's in awe of him and another who's been in love with him since he was fourteen.

'Don't be shy.' Emmett says, reading my hesitation. 'And don't leave out any of the gory details...those are the best bits.'

I start to smile when suddenly the air shifts around me, shutting my eyes I know he's arrived even before I feel a warm hand on my lower back and a hot whisper in my ear.

'Yes sunshine, speak slowly and enunciate. I want to hear every last word.'

Haven't tried anything like this before, but I just finished watching the series and I loved it too much to let it go! Might be a three-parter if there's any demand for it. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading.