It doesn't make sense that Will insists on driving him home, Bryan thinks. He's not that drunk.

"Whatever happened to you in the past, it's over. You've gotta give it another shot. Lima Theater Guild is doing a production of Les Mis. Auditions are Friday and both of us are trying out."

The words Will said earlier tonight wouldn't shut up in his head.

Somehow he misses the car ride home between one blink and the next, but that doesn't matter too much right now. Will's got the situation under control, Bryan is sure of it. Proving him right, Will finds his keys and gets him settled on a couch.

Warm. Bryan finds something warm and comfortable on his couch to settle against. If he could just rest for a moment, he'd be able to find some words to answer everything Will had done for him tonight.

Maybe he's not drunk on alcohol, but on freedom, on music. Then he thinks that's the kind of thought only a drunk would have. But the heady rush after singing had never gone away. The missing satisfaction that had haunted him for years after he had quit the business cold turkey.

In the bar, he had sworn to himself up and down that he would not start singing. Even when he had gone to his shows, he had kept a respectful silence. The point of no return he had vowed never to cross again. The line Will had invited him over, with a tantalizing, reminiscent duet no less. While his mind had refused, some part of him had broken free, or maybe just plain broken. Too far gone…

His warm pillow tries to move away, but he wasn't gonna take that from his only current comfort. He ends up halfway between a cling and a sprawl, breathing deep to simulate sleep.

Will isn't sure how he ended up on Bryan's couch, underneath Bryan, after offering a friendly ride home, but he's knows he's not going anywhere anytime soon. Not unless he feels like dumping Bryan unceremoniously on the floor.

He's reminded of the hug in the bar. Will thinks about how Bryan hugs with his entire body, like a commitment, or as if his heart would stop beating if he let go.

He's unsure as to what the protocol for such a situation is. The distracting bits of melody escaping Bryan's sleeping lips tug at him. A floodgate had been released, the likes of which Will hadn't been able to handle when he had known Bryan before, and is still unsure if he can handle today. Maybe the distant hostility would have been better in the long run, but Will had a feeling that wasn't an option anymore. And maybe it meant he was a bad person, but the thought made Will glad.

Maybe a little nap would be alright after all. Will nods off, wondering if he really hears some spoken words mixed in with the tunes.

"I like you."


During the production of Les Mis, Bryan finds himself nibbling absentmindedly on the corners of his music sheets and drawing unfortunate comparisons between his marriage and a diet consisting of only sheet music.

Somewhere along the lines his thoughts meander into consideration of the part of him that needs performing and music and audience just as much as his stomach needs food, but the thought only makes him feel less comfortable.

He knows he's not supposed to be the one onstage, but the show merrily goes on, and so does his part in it.

Bryan sits in his dressing room long after the second night's show ends. The crowd had sold out and the evening had culminated in a full standing ovation.

A knock on the door interrupts absolutely nothing, so he answers it quicker than he should have.

"You were brilliant," a bouquet of flowers says. The man behind the flowers smiles brightly as he sets them on the table.

"Just because I was second choice, doesn't mean I was second best. That laundryman obviously had no taste," Bryan begins with a scowl, only to be cut off mildly.

"About that. Do you remember the part where Sue said that the Cheerios used his business for all their dry-cleaning? She neglected to mention that they're practically his only remaining customers. Apparently threatening to close down a man's livelihood by way of taking business elsewhere is a horribly effective way to change a person's opinion of other peoples singing talent." Will spills and gushes the words all over.

The words slap Bryan across the face. Change? Will hadn't been first choice? Only the two of them had tried out for that part, meaning…

"How long have you known?" is the question that finally slipped out of Bryan's mouth.

"Yesterday afternoon, when the show opened. She decided to gloat about how she could, and I quote 'Control every aspect of my feeble, pathetic, and utterly useless existence'." Will's face flashed an expression Bryan didn't quite catch as Will repeated Sue's words.

"So I won. It's not like that's not how it always turns out between us," Bryan shrugged as arrogantly as he could. "Anyway, I'm the only one who gets to run your pathetic little life."

"I know it was stupid of me to think that you might be bothered by me giving up this role for you, but I just wanted you to know anyway," Will said with depreciative scorn.

"And here I thought ego was supposed to be my department," Bryan smirked.

Will began looking distinctly sheepish and uncomfortable. It'd been so long since he had gotten Will on the ropes, rather than the other way around, that Bryan couldn't help but step forward into the edge of Will's personal space.

The same tension lingered in the air here that hung over all their previous interactions. Something unspoken, not even thought about, and certainly never acted upon. Something Bryan didn't want to ignore anymore. After giving in to every one of his other base urges, at the behest of the man before him, one more didn't feel like sin.

Will never got the hug he was expecting when Bryan moved closer and started looking at him like that.

The kiss that had never happened at the bar is what replaced it.

While Will really wanted to continue enjoying the moment, much more than his morals said he should have wanted to, the images of a hastily flashed photo, his wife's pleas as he stalked out, and Emma's surprised face cycling through his head gave him enough fortitude of willpower to pull back and stay back.

At the hurt look on Bryan's face, Will rushes to explain.

"It's not that I'm not willing- Don't think that I don't want- We're married men Bryan. You may be living a lie, and I may be separated, but in the eyes of church and law, we're still bound. I can't do this in good conscience."

"I can not fathom why I am so enamored to this disgusting level of 'goodness' you have always displayed. I guess you're just lucky that way."

"Bryan…" Will said, chastising him for his teasing treatment of the topic.

"Fine, I'm not going to force the issue. I just hope you don't look up at the stars one day and regret not taking this opportunity."

"I'll always regret it, but I still wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had."

"I know, I know, you wouldn't be you. Heh, you've got to be stronger than I am, to outright refuse to live the lie like that. Get out."

"What? Bryan?"

"Go away. I won't be able to respect your wishes if you stay here. Also, I just really don't want to spend any time at all in the immediate vicinity of you right now anyway."

"Oh, I- I'm- … Congratulations. I hope the rest of your shows go as stunningly as your first couple, "Will concedes, exiting with an awkward little wave.


Wilma comes home to find a box of playbills upended and splayed obscenely across the kitchen table. Placed on the top is one for Les Mis, produced by Lima Theater Guild, starring Bryan Ryan. Across the table, the man himself stares silently at her.

"Is this a 'relapse'? Will it be the same as last time?" She asks resignedly.

"No. I've decided. I don't want to live like this, and you don't deserve to be treated this way by me. I'd like to discuss divorce."

She looks absurdly relieved at his words, if a little bittersweet. He feels like maybe he should be hurt that she doesn't protest or try to save their marriage, but he thinks that maybe they've both known that it's been over for a while now. She never knew him before the lie, and while he had convinced himself that he could learn to love her, that hadn't happened no matter how much effort he had put into the marriage.

The split, as they have taken to calling it amongst their friends, really all her friends, is surprisingly quick and amiable. He's sure that they could remain friends, but he thinks that it would be best for the both of them to make the famed, cliché 'clean break'. Either that or it would be easier for him, but he really didn't care about which right now.

He has somewhere he needs to be right now. And immediately after he gets himself cast in another production to satisfy that need, he's heading straight to Will to brag about it.


After the divorce papers are signed, Will doesn't regret breaking it off. He doesn't want to live another unhealthy relationship like that again.

He thought that Emma would be his chance for something like that, but between their individual hang-ups the relationship is no more healthy than his and Terri's was, just in different ways. Maybe if he let some time pass and they both worked at it, something could happen, but right now that felt like compromise, and thinks that he doesn't want that again.

He's surprised to realize that he feels no hostility or jiltedness when she begins dating her dentist. Carl has to know a thing or a hundred about hygiene and sterilization, just to choose the profession he has. What really matters to Will is that she feels safe and comfortable being with him.

Sure it hurts a little to not be that guy for her, but he thinks she maybe understands the feeling when he catches her looking sidelong at Bryan during his increasingly frequent visits to the school.


You'd think he had announced his divorce finalization to the entire world, what with the way Bryan came storming in the next day, waving about similar looking papers while yowling inarticulately before dragging him off to the nearest unoccupied classroom and locking the door.

As soon as the lock clicks, Bryan drops his anger and rolls his shoulders to loosen the tension acting angry had left there. Will supposes that having the rest of the school think he was getting a chewing out over some ridiculous policy or expenditure would be a great cover for if things went bad.

"I thought you said I had already lost my chance with you, fleeting star that you are?"

"Well, I guess you were wrong. Again. Some people just don't give up on their dreams as easily as you do, Will."

"Are those divorce papers real?" Will asks frankly. Bryan doesn't take offence, but rather pride his other props were of such quality that they had Will questioning the reality of this one.

"Signed, dated, and notarized. We are no longer married men. Any more ridiculous objections to add?"

"Just that you're losing even more time by standing over there and talking at me."

Bryan smiles, cocky and satisfied, before sauntering over and trapping Will against a wall with a devouring, full body, no-holds-barred kiss that soon escalated into more.

Will is enjoying the single-minded intentness that Bryan's using to divest him of his clothing, right up until he notices that Bryan's full attention is not on him, and even though he's splitting it with Bryan's other great love, music, Will just can't overlook it. Bryan's going so far as to tap out the rhythm of whatever is going through his head with his one unoccupied foot.

"Put that percussion line in your mouth, why don't you?" Will asks with all the smug superiority he doesn't feel.

Bryan cocks an eyebrow at Will. "I don't really take direction," Bryan says thoughtfully, "But in this case, I think I'll make an exception."

Will decided afterwards that musical blowjobs have spoiled him for any other kind of oral sex. Just the thought of the way that Bryan had humed the bassline all the way through while he tapped and swiped out the rhythm with his tongue made Will lose several seconds.

Although, he is definitely going to have to change what song the Glee Club is doing next week. There was no way he was going to explain why he suddenly got hard after merely hearing the opening bass riff of Pink Floyd's "Money".


"We should have a 'recently divorced' party. For just the two of us," Bryan suggested.

"You just want to make out."

"That and eat cake. Maybe sing a little."

"Singing just means sex to you."

"It's so cute how you pretend to have a problem with that."

"I do have a problem with it! I'm running out of songs I can sing in front of the Glee Club kids."

"Well then, let's just tick another song off the 'safe' list. How do you feel about 'Go Your Own Way'?"

"Damn you."

"You're welcome."


"So I met Terri today," Bryan opened casually.

"Oh god. Is she- Did she-?" Will sputtered.

"Well, I told her how she missed her chance, for both of us, in fact. I also told her how much I had wanted to bone her in high school."

"You what?"

"Of course that prompted her to try to seduce me away, likely in an attempt to have your love and mine too. She did manage to get her lips on me for a second, by the way have you got any bleach or strong chemicals, I've washed like twenty times and I still don't feel clean."

"Bwah?"

"But, as I was saying, I went on to describe to her in explicit detail how much of a better person, kisser, and all around pretty much everything you are than her. She looked mildly displeased as she burst into shrieking tears and fled the room. Does she do this often?"

"Only every time I try to move on with my life," Will groaned.

"Oh goodie, so I can look forward to more sessions of 'bait the bitch'?"

"What about me says 'only psychos need apply'?" Will asked, slumping over and thumping his head against his desk.