Choose
A/N: Well, here's my swing at what I like to call an 'epic' story. Not that I expect it to be super awesome amazing in that sense of the word, but just that it's a multi-chapter story whereas with these two I've just been dabbling in short stories. Kind of taking the edge off and helping me get to this point right here. The one where I present to you: Choose. I hope you enjoy it, cause I sure as hell did when I wrote it.
~SL
Chapter One
There was the soft sound of sheets rustling as a body slid itself back towards the pillows at the head of the bed, deprived of clothing and wearing nothing but a quiet smile of apprehension. Soon after was the little jingle of a belt being undone, a zipper cutting through the silence of anticipated breathing. There was a frown when hands left the zipper and instead of pushing the slacks off the hips, the hands were held out to either side of his body, an enticing tilt of the hips towards the other man on the bed as the first stood at the foot of the bed. The fully disrobed man got on all fours and crawled back to the edge of the bed, grabbing the pants at the legs and tugging, letting them pool around unseen feet. He glanced up, fingers trailing gently upwards from thighs and brushing over a barely restrained erection clothed in black boxer briefs. Those fluttering eyelids, that short gasp and the way the other man's chest heaved just slightly… that was all that was needed for a green light.
"Ben! Ben, wait," Michael called out before his husband went to ride off where they split ways on their morning bike ride to work. Ben looked back, sandy blond hair being tossed by the light breeze, blue eyes hard, but questioning. "Don't I get a kiss?"
Ben almost rolled his eyes, Michael saw it, but kept his mouth in a thin line as Ben leaned over to place a rushed kiss to the corner of Michael's mouth. That was all he got these days, not that he didn't deserve it. Brian was dragging him out at all hours again, something unbecoming to their new lifestyle since moving into their house and fixing it up. They avoided the topic daily, focusing more on Hunter and school, keeping up with Jenny Rebecca through email updates and pictures. Pretending to be like they always were until nine o'clock rolled around and Brian would come knocking on the door, or Michael's cell phone would go off. He'd gotten better, Michael had to credit him. Brian would at least let them enjoy a meal together now before whisking him off to the clubs or some underground party that he didn't want to go to but he had to. They were just the simple demands of friendship. Brian needed him, his company… while he was out fucking up a storm.
But Ben had remained passive at first, still feeling guilty over the incident with his former student. It would have been easier, Michael decided, if Ben had just gone through with it and fucked the guy. He thought that his husband probably would have too if the guy hadn't started spouting off with his romantic ideals about getting infected. Not saying that he thought Ben was an easy man, but there was a reason he'd hit up the White Party so many years ago. Michael couldn't imagine what he had been like back then, but if Brian had slept with him, there was a fairly good idea of the kind of person he might have been. Michael didn't like to think about it too much.
He didn't like to think about their current situation either. How late he would come in at nights. He used to find Ben awake and waiting, not angry, just relieved. Like he expected Michael to run off and never come back. Those nights were good in the beginning. First the wave of relief would wash over Ben and he would break into a smile, gather Michael up into his arms and kiss him. Hard and possessive before pulling him into their bedroom.
That lasted about two weeks, and Michael had honestly never been happier. He had almost wanted to thank Brian for adding a little something to his sex life until the night he had come home and Ben wasn't in the living room. He wasn't even in bed. Hunter had stumbled out of his room for breakfast later on and told him that Ben had left a few hours after Brian picked him up, said something about going to meditate. For a brief moment, Michael thought Ben had just up and left for Tibet, but when he came home for lunch at the same time Michael was, like they always did for a little more than a sandwich, they just stared at each other at the front door. Standing on the porch, a light breeze playing across the scene. They didn't know what to say.
"Fucking Christ," the man groaned, knees wavering slightly under his weight at he saw his cock fully disappear into the other man's mouth. How the hell did he do that? Had the man never heard of gag reflex? In all honesty, being able to deep throat someone was impressive, erotic to watch, but watching this man do it? Christ. It took restraint not to take the man by surprise and just fuck his mouth right there. But he wanted to make the most of it. Two, maybe three hours if they were lucky today. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough to satisfy them, but they took what they had or went without. He shuddered as the mouth latched onto his cock let him go, the air cooling drastically on contact. After that was a flurry of hands on skin, the bed creaking under newly added weight, springs gently protesting as the smaller man was pushed onto his back. No, not eased, pushed. Nothing was going to be gentle. Neither man wanted it that way, not tonight. Sometimes, maybe. But usually they had no romantic notions of these hours in their heads. They didn't come expecting long and slow, drawn out moans between kisses or names being whispered sprinkled with "I love you". They had a need. An overpowering need to feel each other, run their hands over exposed skin, tug at hair, leave marks in hidden places and still look each other in the eye tomorrow.
"I,uh… I came home for lunch," Michael said blankly, keys in hand as he was about to unlock the door.
"Me too."
Michael was expecting maybe an apology, an explanation, where he had gone the night before, but there was nothing left to say. He hadn't even been hoping for Ben to be home this afternoon, let alone wondering if they were going to pretend nothing had happened. He wasn't sure how, but he finally unlocked the door and they entered. Michael had lost his appetite as Ben headed for the kitchen in silence. Michael didn't know what to do with himself as he heart Ben opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen, throwing something together. He hung around the doorway, clinging to the side as he watched his husband with a confused looked. He didn't say anything until Ben looked at him, finally acknowledged him.
"Hunter said you went to meditate?"
Ben was tightening the lid on a jar. "Yeah. Had to clear my head."
"All night?"
"Am I supposed to wait for you to get in at three am every fucking night, Michael?" Ben slammed the jar down on the counter. Michael didn't flinch.
He shook his head. "No, Ben. But at least you know where I am. I didn't even know where you went. You didn't call. You didn't even call me this morning."
"No, I don't know where you are every night," Ben sighed, slamming cabinet doors open and closed too hard.
"What are you talking about? I'm with-"
"Brian." The word hissed out of Ben's mouth. Michael thought that if he could touch it, it would burn him. After carefully avoiding the topic for two weeks, bringing it up now seemed frightening. "But I don't know where you are. Am I just supposed to trust him with you?"
"I'm not your property, Ben," Michael said quietly. "It's not like you're letting someone borrow me and afraid they'll bring me back damaged. I'm a person with a friend who needs me."
"Why does he need you? What about Justin or Ted or Emmett? Christ, Michael…," Ben ran a hand through his hair and shifted agitatedly. "You know what? I can't do this right now. I have to get back to school."
Ben left the sandwich he was making half done and ignored on the counter as he pushed past Michael. He hadn't even taken his coat off. Michael knew he should be upset, but he couldn't find it in himself. Ben needed space, too. He'd been so understanding about Brian for so long.
"Ben?"
He turned around and looked at Michael, feeling himself melt just a little out of the façade he was putting up. But he didn't budge. He wanted to be angry about this right now. It wasn't right that after things had finally settled down in their lives that Brian would come waltzing back in into it, whisking Michael off every goddamn night. Keeping him from their bed, their family and home. Over-the-hill party boy wasn't enough to cover whatever it was Brian was up to. Both Michael and Brian were nearing ever closer to their dreaded 40s.
Teeth sink into pale skin as long fingers pulled hard on black locks, making the cords in the neck flex and stand out. Teeth marks would fade in a few hours, no bruising. They could risk it. They wanted to risk it.
"Brian!" Came the strangled cry, head twisting away but at the same time towards the pressure at his neck as nails dug into Brian's back, leaving thin red lines on the skin as the smaller man pulled him closer, needing more. Something, anything. Just more.
Releasing the skin between his teeth and the hair in his grasp, Brian arch his body towards the man under him, almost relishing in the slight sting of pain from the scratches left on his back. He let his head fall back, chin against his heaving chest as he looked at the flushed, sweating form under him.
"Christ, Mikey," he panted, hair falling into his eyes and he was taken aback at the look he was met with. Dark brown eyes narrowed as he snorted derisively at the nickname. Brian smiled, leaning down to place small, quick kisses over the man's face and neck, moving down his chest. He looked up when he heard another snort.
"Michael," Brian murmured and he felt the tension easy in the other man. Michael didn't like being called Mikey in bed. Sometimes he'd let Brian slip and get away with it. Usually after reminiscing about times when they were teenagers, but for the most part he still saw it as Brian's way of keeping that wall between them. Keeping Michael at fourteen and Brian feeling like he was ruining something too good to be true.
Sometimes, Brian admits to himself that he likes thinking he might be ruining that fourteen year old innocence about the man. He feels a little guilty for thinking it, but not often. He goes back to what he was doing, kissing his way down to Michael's groin.
"Michael," he said again after a kiss, listening to the soft moans of anticipation as he gets lower. "Michael." It becomes his little mantra. Whispering the name every softer after each kiss. The name ringing in his ears. Michael, Michael, Michael.
"Michael," Ben sighs, pushing his glasses up. Michael knows this move means he's agitated, trying to put distance between them. Make the boundaries known. "Just… why? Why him? Why can't you say no?"
Michael leans up against the wall he was clinging to previously, at a loss for words good enough to explain what he wants to say. "Why should I?"
That wasn't what he meant to say, but now it's said and he can't take it back. The look of shock on Ben's face is more than enough to bring the guilt washing over him. There was a time when Ben had finally thought Michael had moved on. That they really would be nothing other than friends instead of that overly strange relationship they slapped the label of friendship onto.
"Because I'm your husband," Ben says quietly, pleading almost as sorrow fills those blue eyes that Michael does love. "Because we have a son, a daughter, a house… we have a life together and he's taking you away from it."
"And from six in the morning until nine or ten at night I work for our son, our daughter, our house," Michael tells Ben. "I'm your husband, I'm their father, I'm a provider for this life too… so why can't I take the night off after everyone's gone to bed? Why can't I be Mikey for awhile again?"
"You can," Ben implores, taking a new direction. Knowing with the wrong move, he's going to lose Michael. "You can, baby. That's fine. And I'm here when you come home. When you're mine again… you know that."
Ben expects to see that telltale blush creep over Michael's cheeks, but he doesn't. He was hoping that late nights and early mornings in bed would flash through his husband's mind, but he knows they're not. Michael is stubborn and focused on one thing right now.
"Except last night," Michael finishes. "Which is fine. You can have your life, too. But not even a fucking call, Ben?"
"I was wrong for that," he admits, the thumb on his left hand twirling that silver ring absently as he's become used to doing when he's worried about their relationship. He doesn't even notice he does it, but Michael does. "And I am sorry… but when do you get to take the night off from him?"
"Brian, you mean," Michael offers. He wants it direct and out in the open now. "If you want me to stop seeing Brian… you should just say so."
"And if I do?" Ben asks, seriously contemplating asking for that. "If I really do ask you to stop?"
"I'd say no," he answers honestly. "But… I'd stop going out as much. It's been a little excessive. Half the time we wind up places I don't even want to be."
Ben closes the distance between them, hugging Michael cautiously. As if he were something fragile that would break if he held on too hard. In a way, it was true. If you tried too hard to keep Michael, you would lose him. He feels Michael tense up slightly, as if expecting something more. When he realizes it's not going to happen, he hugs Ben back. He feels tears burn behind his eyelids and tries hard not to let them fall, but Ben already noticed the change in his breathing and pulls back, holding Michael's face in his hands.
Gently wiping away the falling tears with careful swipes of his thumbs, Ben kisses Michael. It only makes him cry harder.
"Did anything happen?" Ben asks. He has to ask once he breaks the kiss.
Michael shakes his head in Ben's hands. "No. He just won't listen sometimes and it's hard. It's just so fucking hard sometimes, Ben. I'm sorry."
"Stop," Michael demands, voice rasping and body protesting as hands are curled tightly in dark brown locks of hair, tugging gently to get Brian to listen. He doesn't want to come this way. Not the first time today. Brian glances up at Michael and knows. Knows he's been thinking again, the look that flashed through those deep brown eyes. Brian wants to get angry about it, enough to deny Michael exactly what he wants, but he can't. He's just as weak in this situation as Michael.
Brian lets the length slip between his lips as he sits up, more than all business now. "Roll over."
Michael feels guilty now. Not for Ben, but for Brian. He knows Brian hates this position most of all when they're together. No matter how rough they get, letting need take over, no matter how quickly they have to satisfy each other, Brian hates when Michael can't face him, not that he's turned away. And sometimes he physically can't handle seeing Brian instead of Ben hovering over him. Sometimes knowing and seeing are two different things completely and Michael can't handle it. It's more than that, though. Brian gets worried when they have to do this. He knows Michael takes it out on himself more than he should. He gets carried away in the moment and more often than not, when he's like this, winds up hurting himself. Brian doesn't want to feel guilty about it, it's not his fault that Michael would push back against him harder and faster than he could keep up with, but he does nonetheless.
Michael does as he's told, grateful to bury his face in the cool pillows, pulling his knees up under him to raise his ass in the air. He's ready, he still wants it, wants Brian… things just shifted way too fast to process. It always happens.
"Oh God!"
"Fuck, baby, you're so tight."
"Harder! Christ, move or I'll kill you!"
Ben smiles, holding Michael's legs a little wider apart and does as he's told. Somehow they managed to get from the doorway to the bedroom, a trail of clothes leading the way. They were both going to be late. Michael, for opening the shop back up and Ben getting to his next class. Ben didn't seem to care though as he threw his head back, moaning loudly. Good God, makeup sex had to be the best sex there was. Cleansing somehow. Better than meditation, Ben would never admit to it, but found it to be true. Michael just looked so perfect under him, back arching, teeth raking over his bottom lip, hands frantically grabbing at the sheets under them… Christ, it took more willpower than Ben had to hold off as he knowingly played the body under him with skill, steering Michael towards his climax, trying to stave off his own until his lover was satisfied.
The sight was worth it. Michael came with wanton abandon under Ben's loving ministrations. Never really that much harder, faster or adventurous than a new position, or christening the kitchen (and a few other rooms of the house), Michael had expected no less. He was satisfied physically, but something, some part of him remained restless after sex. Rubbing Ben's back absently as he stared up at the ceiling feeling lips pressed moist, soft kisses along his shoulder and neck. He wanted to sigh, express whatever this unfulfilled desire of his was, but he couldn't. They just made up after all. Michael didn't want to rock the boat at all. Still, he never could place what was missing in bed.
"Maybe you should call the school," Michael murmured, turning to place a kiss to the shell of Ben's ear.
"Mm, how come, baby?"
Michael smiled and Ben felt the lips curving against his ear and a cock twitch against his stomach. "Well, I figured we could both take the night off. Let Hunter go out tonight and we can have dinner in bed."
"Well, when you put it that way…" Ben flashed an eager grin before kissing Michael softly. "Missed you."
"Yeah," Michael sighed, closing his eyes as Ben got up to go find his phone. "Missed you, too."
Michael was squirming as Brian took his time preparing his friend for what was to come. Two long fingers probed deeply and slowly took their time stretching and relaxing the tight muscle. All the while, Michael moaned and clawed at pillows, trying to find something solid to hold on to. Brian knew that was why Michael liked being on the bottom, always facing his partner. Sometimes it was because there was a moment when sex transcended into that intangible moment of 'making love' (and damn it all if Mikey wasn't a romantic), but also because Michael could be driven to the brink of insanity. Apparently with little more than two fingers, and he needed to hold on to something. Someone. He needed something solid to hold on to and ride out the frenzied emotions and nerves that went alight with a small, grazing touch to that deepest part inside him.
"Fuck," Michel spat as Brian introduced Michael to a new friend, finger number three. This was the part Brian liked, although he knew himself a sick puppy to do so. This was when Michael started going too hard. As if trying to drown out whatever he was thinking of, whatever guilt he had, with that hard to define mix of pleasure and pain. Right on cue, Michael pushed back too fast to let himself adjust and Brian had to wrap a hand around his hip, holding him firmly in place, otherwise he'd keep going like that. Michael fought the grip, writhing and wiggling, grunting in frustration.
"Gonna hurt yourself," Brian stated, at this point aching to get in the other man.
Michael groaned as he strained against the hand that held him still. "So. Fucking. What."
"What do you mean?"
Michael looked at Ben, feeling guilty. Michael's phone had been going off since ten. They sent Hunter out with more money than any kid his age needed and told him to take his girlfriend out and come home as late as possible. Hunter got the idea and didn't even make a smartass remark. Around three in the morning when he thought Ben was fast asleep, he'd checked his phone, overloaded with texts and voicemails ranging from almost begging for Mikey to come out and play, to nasty (probably drunk) trying to sound like he didn't care where he was, but would it kill him to let Brian know he was at least alive? He had sent a text back, apologizing, smoothing everything over saying they would meet at the diner in the morning like usual. He didn't expect anything back, thinking Brian was busy or asleep but the message was returned in seconds telling him that he was going to be picked up. Now.
"I mean," Michael said, tossing his phone on the bed. "I'm going out and so what if you don't want me to."
"Michael, what happened to taking the night off?" Ben asked, sitting up against the headboard.
Michael sighed. He'd made Ben stay home from work after all. "Okay, okay. You're right. I'm sorry. He's on his way, what if I just get him to stay?" At Ben's look, he insisted not the night. "Just coffee. Sober him up a bit, try talking to him, send him home. The end. It'll be maybe an hour that way, you're right here in bed and I can come right back once I lock that front door."
Michael temptingly crawled on top of Ben and pulled him into a long kiss. Hands were beginning to wander when there was a knock on the door. Michael pulled away and Ben smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes as he waved Michael to go answer the door. Pulling on some sweatpants, he shut the bedroom door and went downstairs to let Brian in.
Brian had rolled on a condom and used a little more lube than he normally would. He couldn't stop the way Michael's body moved (really, he just wouldn't), but he could do what he was able to, to try and reduce any accidents. One day Michael was going to learn his body wasn't as resilient as he thought it was. Hopefully. Michael raised his head, looking over his shoulder to see what was taking so long. Brian didn't like that one bit. Impatience when Brian was trying to take the time to make sure Michael didn't hurt himself too badly, and struggling a little with internal feelings. Half the time, Brian wanted to stop and make Michael talk about it, work through it. But Michael had this idea of what Brian's place was, and it wasn't to ask questions.
Brian propped Michael's hips up higher and got up on his knees behind the smaller man and lined himself up, pushing in with a slow ease that was interrupted as Michael slammed back against him. There was a strangled cry of pain, that gasping hitch as Michael tried to calm himself down and pull away. Brian grit his teeth, keeping quiet until he felt Michael try and pull back, knowing he'd only slam towards Brian again. He leaned over the other man, one hand tangling into the dark hair and tugged back sharply, making him gasp and arch his body in a way that had Brian sweating.
Leaning close to Michael's ear, he tugged his head up lightly to grab his attention as he said, "This is the last time I'm doing this for you, Michael. Mark it."
"Mikey, you can't go out like that," Brian sniffed. Michael rolled his eyes. More like Brian wouldn't be seen with him like this. Brian was dressed to kill with black jeans, a black muscle shirt and his leather jacket thrown over it all. The sunglasses were perched on top of his head, more an aesthetic element than useful at three in the morning.
"I'm not going out, Brian," Michael told him, stepping to the side so Brian could come in. He didn't move.
"Why the fuck not? I told you I was coming to pick you up."
"And I didn't say I was going out. You just keep assuming I'll go with you."
"So far I've been right, haven't I?"
"Brian, you need to come inside and stop yelling on my doorstep at three in the morning, because I'm not leaving this house."
Brian snorted, rolling his eyes as he entered the house and Michael shut the door behind him. He went to go make a pot of coffee, while Brian sat down at the table, leaning the chair back on its hind legs. Mikey looked rumpled, but not sleepy. Maybe agitated, but certainly not pissed off and it wasn't directed at him. That was something at least.
"Mikey, why aren't we going out?" Brian asked as Michael brought him a cup of coffee.
Michael sighed and took a seat at the table. "Because, Brian. I need the night off."
Brian raised an eyebrow. "That's it? Why didn't you just say that? We'll go out tomorrow. Shit, that's fine. You do open that store pretty damn early."
"No, I need the next few weeks off, Brian."
"Going somewhere?"
"Yeah."
"Gonna tell me where?"
"I'm going to go to work, come home for lunch like I always do, close my store at seven like I always do and then I'm going to go home and have dinner with my family and then? Then I'm going to go to bed with my husband and have him fuck me senseless," Michael told Brian conversationally, sipping at the hot coffee.
"So you're leaving me for the professor?" Brian snorted, rolling his eyes.
Michael smiled. "I'm not leaving you. I'm taking time off from you, because I've been taking too much time off from Ben."
"My general consensus of marriage is that you're supposed to have less sex after it happens," Brian drawled, running a fingertip around the rim of his coffee mug.
"That's when breeders get married."
"So… your contrasting theory is that when gays marry, there's more sex?"
"Wanna guess why I never answered my phone until I thought Ben was passed out?"
"Fuck," Brian said with a smile. "Maybe I should get married. Or maybe Mikey's just an animal in the sack."
"You'll never know," Michael said, returning the smile easily. "Besides, what's there to do at three in the morning in the Pitts?"
"Ah, tonight was a fucking party," he said, almost wistfully.
Michael sighed. "Brian, why would I want to go there with you?"
"Because you're hot, Mikey. You would've picked someone up in no time."
"I don't want to pick anyone up. I'm married. I have a husband back in my bed that's waiting for me so we can keep going."
"I don't wanna know about your sex life," Brian muttered as he finally brought the coffee mug to his lips.
"Tough shit. You interrupted it."
Brian set the mug down. "What? Mikey missing out on a little more bondage?"
"God, don't I wish," Michael admitted, surprising himself with it and he looked surprised.
"Oh, losing that spark, maybe?" Brian asked, raising an eyebrow. "Could be the reason you've been going out so much."
"Shut up, Brian. So, I like a little kink once in awhile. I'm sure you're not without your own."
"True, but I'm not married."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Brian snorted. "Well, from what I've been told, when you're in a committed relationship, there should be 'open lines of communication'."
"Ben and I have that," Michael said, eyeing his friendly warily.
"Apparently everywhere but the bedroom, Mikey. I've seen you dance these past few nights. You're begging for something."
"You can tell that… by dancing?"
"It's always been my opinion that you can tell how good someone is in bed by how they dance. I figure I've gotten so good at it, I can tell what they want from how they dance," Brian told him, shrugging as he sipped at the coffee again.
"And what do you think I want?" Michael asked cautiously, leaving his own cup to go cold.
Brian flicked his wrist, checking an imaginary watch. "Look at the time. It just flew by! We'll have to do this again sometime, dear." He got up and leaned over to kiss Michael on the cheek and lingered by his ear to quietly murmur, "Call me when you want to find out."
Michael didn't even process the words. Didn't really want to, honestly. Maybe tomorrow after he had time to think about it. Brian could be more than cryptic when he wanted to be. Did he mean never again like this? When he just didn't want to face the reality that Brian was in bed with him, in him? Or maybe… just never again. Michael didn't want to think about that at all. Not right now with Brian letting him loose in bed, hips bucking in wild abandon as Brian struggled for control over his body. Michael liked that Brian could barely contain himself, even when he was pissed at Michael. And Michael knew he was.
"Fuck," Brian panted, giving up on trying to tame Michael's thrusts. He always did. Brian just let go of thought as he pushed back towards his friend at the unforgiving pace. Slowly, Michael's arms wouldn't hold him up anymore and his torso slipped unceremoniously onto the bed, holding a pillow to his chest tightly as he moaned. Brian grabbed the thin hips tightly, pulling Michael back onto him as hard as he'd been pushing himself before, if not harder.
Still, it wasn't enough. "More!"
"Christ, I'm-" Brian gave up trying to reason with the other man. He was past the point of no return. It wasn't hurting him now, but it would later, Brian was sure of that. Especially as he saw Michael biting down hard on his bottom lip, eyes clenched shut as silent tears streamed down his face. God, he wished it were enough to make him stop. He wished he had the willpower to just. Fucking. Stop. Maybe explain that he couldn't possibly give Michael anything more than he was, or that it was going to be physically impossible to meet his request. Brian was sweating hard from exertion as it was.
He just had to hold out. He needed to hold on to his sanity until Michael came first, and it was hard enough to do when he could even slow down and try to get a grip on himself. Brian grunted, straining to keep himself from just letting go as he wrapped a hand around Michael's straining erection, eliciting a loud sobbing groan from the smaller man. Ah, fuck, he was crying so hard, Brian thought he might just need to pass out afterwards. Brian was determined to talk to him and they were pressed for time as it was. Michael was thrashing about now, straining himself to meet Brian's thrusts, crying out hoarsely as he tried to choke back dry sobs.
"Michael?" Ben asked, coming out of the bedroom and downstairs about half an hour after he heard the front door shut. He hadn't heard anything to pull him from the bedroom and immersed himself in a book. When he looked at the clock and realized Michael still hadn't come back, he worried that maybe he'd gone out anyway.
But seeing his husband sitting at the table, two barely touched cups on the table as he stared off into the dark of the next room, Ben feared something worse than Michael just up and disappearing with Brian behind it. He couldn't place it, but it shook him to his core. Michael wasn't usually one for silent contemplation. He would usually burst back into the bedroom and pace around, throwing his hands about as he vented about the recent encounter. This wasn't like Michael at all and it made Ben more than nervous and wishing he'd put on a little more than boxers.
"Yeah, Ben?"
Ben worked his bottom lip between his teeth before responding. "You okay, babe?"
"Just fine. A little worn out," Michael said, turning in his seat to look at his husband, smiling wanly.
"Why don't you come back to bed. We've got work in a few hours."
"I think I'm gonna take the day off tomorrow."
"You sure?" Ben asked, daring to edge closer to the table. "I mean, you closed early today…"
Michael looked away from Ben and glanced at the front door again. "Yeah. I'm sure."
He got up from the table, picking up the two empty mugs and emptying them in the sink, leaving them there for tomorrow to clean. After all, he would have all day. He rested his hands on the edge of the sink, holding on so tight that his knuckles went white. Why did Brian's words bother him so much? Why couldn't he bother Ted, Emmett or Justin, actually? Justin was a phone call or few hours drive away and Ted and Emmett could always be found at Woody's or Babylon. Why was it always himself that was pulled away from his life, still after all this time?
Michael didn't want to think about it. Or why he always went anyways. What Brian said bothered him. That he was looking for something that he wasn't getting at home. Open lines of communication he had said. What crap. He felt eyes on him and saw Ben standing in the doorway. He smiled in a useless attempt to get his husband off his back and into bed. Ben wasn't moving.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Ben finally asked.
Michael turned around to lean up against the edge of the sink, releasing his death grip. "Ben, we're really… we talk about everything, right?"
He saw that quick twirl of the silver band around Ben's finger and the corners of his mouth pulled tighter as Ben assured Michael they did.
"And we listen to each other, don't we?"
"Michael, of course we do," Ben told him earnestly. He believed that, Michael realized. He really believed that. "What's this about? Did Brian say something?"
"No, no- Well, yeah, but nothing important," Michael sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. Christ, was his life ever going to get easier? Nothing seemed to settle down to a nice content flow anymore. Just short lived periods of happiness before the shit hit the fan.
"C'mon, babe, let's get some sleep," Ben coaxed, closing the distance between them.
"Fucking hell, Mikey," Brian gasped, falling back on the bed to rest for a minute after discarding the used condom. He was still listening to the quiet sniffling from his friend as he tried to hide it by burrowing deeper into the pillows. That raw ache was starting to work its way into his body and Michael hated it. Loved it. What the fuck was wrong with him?
Michael felt good, though. Satisfied and riding that wave of worn out throbbing in his legs and back (not to mention his backside) he couldn't help but just keep crying. This was absolutely wrong, Brian was probably pissed at him and he didn't want to think about the full weight of the words Brian had said to him about an hour beforehand. He flinched when he felt arms try and pull him into an embrace. He didn't mean to, it was just so unexpected and he was kind of floating in his own headspace at the moment. Fully engrossed in himself, he'd almost forgotten his bed partner was still right there with him. Brian was trying to turn him over so they could look face to face and Michael resisted on purpose.
"Mikey," Brian said, trying to get him to roll over. "Michael, c'mon."
Brian shushed the other man, eventually coaxing him over into his arms so he could wipe away the tears and rest their foreheads together as Brian tried to calm him down enough to relax and stop crying. God, all Brian wanted was for Mikey to just stop crying. It wasn't as though it pained him (that much) it was just that much harder to tell him what he had to say and it was probably the worst time to do it, but it had to be done sometime, didn't it?
"I'm sorry," Michael said with a tremor in his voice, the tears finally coming to an end as Brian held him quietly. Brian was just waiting until Michael had finally come back from wherever it was he went during these times.
"It's okay," Brian sighed, combing back a few wild strands of dark hair out of Michael's face. "But we need to talk, Mikey."
There was a moment right after Brian said that where Michael felt as if he really was alone in the bed. Outside noise seemed to be silence and he couldn't feel Brian's arms around him anymore even though he was looking right at the other man. It just wasn't registering. All Michael knew was that if his heart was any louder, it might come out his ears and what the hell was going on?
"I guess after a year it was bound to come down to this, huh?" Michael sniffed, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand, finally coming back to reality.
Brian rolled his lips into a tight line, looking down at his friend. "Mikey, don't do that."
"What?"
"Get started on your 'Michael is so pathetic' line of thinking."
Michael sat up, pulling out of Brian's arms. "Well, so what if I do? It's true isn't it?"
"Mikey-"
"No, Brian. C'mon, admit it. This is pathetic. I feel like the breeder husband cheating on the wife and my only excuse is 'I wasn't satisfied at home'."
Brian propped himself up on the pillows. "And you think I like it any better? In that little scenario, I'm the other woman."
Michael's brief smile looked more like a facial tick than anything else. "Stop it. You know what I mean."
"What can I say, Mikey?" Brian sighed, leaning over to the side table to grab his cigarettes and lighter. He tapped the lighter on the pack idly as he mulled his words over. "I'm tired of this."
"I knew you'd get bored with me one day, Brian. It's why I never even dreamed we'd wind up in bed together."
Brian angrily lit a cigarette in jerky motions, tossing the pack and lighter back on the small table. "Fuck you, Michael. I'm not bored with you. You make it sound like you're a goddamn object. A toy I'll just toss to the side when the newest thing comes out."
"I'm not?" Michael shrugged, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.
"No, you're not. You never were and you know that, you're just being an asshole." A self pitying one at that, Brian thought, but held his tongue.
"Fine. Agree to disagree."
They sat in silence as Brian smoked, occasionally leaning over to the side table to flick ash into an ashtray kept there. Brian would never say he knew everything about Michael, but even when he was clueless, he had a good guess as how to take care of him. He always seemed to know when to play the right cards and it made everyone seem to believe that they were just that in tune with each other. That the years of friendship had given them such depth and insight to each other. Right now, Brian saw them as complete strangers from the best friends they were a year ago.
Michael started to fidget and Brian just waited for it as he ground out the cigarette butt in the ashtray. It wasn't in his nature to be patient.
"So… I guess that wasn't what you wanted to talk about," Michael finally said, right index finger gently touching the silver band on his left hand.
Brian waited as he settled himself back against the pillows.
"Are we ending it, then? This?"
Brian sighed. "I want to say yes, but I can't."
"Why not?"
"Shut up, Michael. It's time for my big dramatic speech."
Michael frowned but kept his mouth shut.
Pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes, he tried to decide where to start this. "Michael, I'm tired of this." Premeditating Michael's leaning forward to interrupt, Brian held up a hand to stop him from speaking. "Not us. Never us. Not what we do here together."
Brian smiled letting a fingertip trace down the side of Michael's arm closest to him. Michael rolled his eyes, biting his tongue to hold back an 'it's all about sex' comment. Brian continued, "I'm tired of trying to figure out what few hours of the day we can sneak to my loft, counting down the seconds until I have to let you go because you're still with Ben. Panicking every time your phone goes off. Being on edge so much that you won't even let me take you out for lunch during the week!"
"Brian, with you it's never just lunch," Michael said sarcastically.
"Mikey, you only think it'll never just be lunch."
"What?" Brian didn't have to look at the other man to know that confusion was written all over his face.
"Mikey," Brian started, turning to face his friend, then stopped himself. "Michael. Michael, you keep putting me in this box. You keep thinking that you know everything about me and how I work."
Michael was hurt. How could he not be? After all these year Brian had the nerve to tell him that he didn't know his best friend at all. Is that what he was saying?
"That's fucked up, Brian," Michael huffed, crossing his arms.
"No, what's fucked up is you and your bullshit way of never seeing what's right in front of you," he shot back calmly, debating on another cigarette. "Before you decide to take this really personally and get all Italian on me, just shut up and listen. I want to be with you, Michael. I'm tired of hiding and never going out anymore. When was the last time we went to Woody's, Mikey? How about Babylon, let alone a dance there?"
"Ben-"
"Yeah, that's the problem."
Michael let his arms fall back to the bed. "It's not that easy, Brian and you know it."
"Why not? Clean break and you're free."
"Yeah? What about the house? Hunter and Jenny? Brian, you were never sure you wanted Gus let alone two more kids."
Brian grunted, getting out of bed and lighting another cigarette. "You don't get it, do you?"
Michael just stared, waiting.
"You think I wasn't planning on all of that? You really think I was just expecting you to up and leave it all behind?" Brian asked, exhaling sharply. "Goddamnit, Michael, what do I have to fucking do to make you fucking understand?"
Michael shrugged. "You could try to just spit it out. You've said everything except what you really want to say."
Brian paused, taken aback. There it was. That infamous way Mikey had of hitting the nail on the head. He didn't know how the other man did it, but he managed to throw anything Brian had planned out of order with just a simple moment of clarity that seemed to disappear as soon as it showed up.
"I want you to choose, Mikey. That's it," he sighed, cigarette resting between his lips as he ran a hand through his hair absently. He let the hand fall to his side limply and shrugged as he looked at his friend, still naked on the bed. "Sorry, but it's time to make a choice and it's either him or me."
"Brian-"
Brian glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Listen, it's almost seven. You have to get going. Don't wanna keep hubby waiting."
He went into the bathroom and there was a hiss as Brian flicked the cigarette into the toilet bowl and turned on the shower, leaving Michael on the bed in a stupor, thinking about what Brian had just said. Was this really happening? Not only had he lost his grip on his home life, but now what made up his love life as well. Fucking hell, Brian wasn't supposed to do this to him. Getting up, he went into the bathroom, watching Brian shower through the glass. He could use one himself and decided to join Brian, who feigned disinterest at the sudden intrusion.
Michael stood under the spray of hot water, enjoying it before reality crashed back in as Brian's arms snaked their way around his chest and waist. God, he'd waited years for this. Just to have Brian wanting him, possibly needing him in a way far more intimate than just friends. He sighed, letting his head fall forward as the taller man nuzzled into the back of his neck. If asked, Michael could tell you the technical things that made sex with Brian different than sex with Ben. Other than that, he was at a loss as to why he preferred one over the other. It wasn't like him at all, his morals usually holding him to what he had always known to be right. In this case, Michael knew he should've been with Ben, his husband. Not to say that he wasn't. No, he knew it would be completely suspicious if Michael had left their marital bed completely. There were more than a few nights a week where Ben gave him what he never thought Brian could. Michael had reasoned it that when he was with Brian, they fucked. There was nothing nice about it and he loved it. There was a large part of him that needed it and Brian gave it to him more than willingly. When he was with Ben, they made love, they had sex. There was that romantic element to it that Michael still wanted and Ben gave that to him. Along with their kids and house and, Christ, their marriage.
But Brian was as tempting as ever over the years. Still going out late, partying, clubbing and making it all look so fucking good even with their age rapidly closing in on them, trying to dictate what was appropriate for them to do. Brian was still wild and that was what Michael loved about it. He told the world to go fuck itself and its rules and fuck aging, because it would never touch him. He could do as he pleased and not have to get tied down into monotony. Brian had been Michael's escape. Always playing Peter and continually showing him that they never did have to grow up. Fuck taxes and bills and renovations and redecorations. All the dinner parties with the neighbors and looking forward to doing the crossword puzzle in the Sunday paper with Ben reading a book next to him paled in comparison to Brian's allure of drugs, music and men until dawn.
"Is it really that hard of a choice, Mikey?" Brian asked, pulling Michael out of his thoughts. Lips pressed against his ear and hands gently roamed up the front of his body.
Michael sighed. "It's all about sex with you, isn't it?"
"I never have led you to believe otherwise," Brian commented, absently playing with one of Michael nipples. Michael leaned into the touch.
"Then why ask me to choose? You can get this from anyone."
"Because I don't want just this."
"What do you want?"
"You haven't been listening to me at all, have you?" Brian asked, letting Michael out of his arms and grabbing a bottle of shampoo. He uncapped the bottle and squeeze it into the palm of his hand and set it back down before rubbing his hands together and working the shampoo into Michael's hair, fingertips massaging the scalp. Michael hummed as a feeling of content washed over him just like the water. It was strange how easy all of this was. They usually showered separately.
"I don't want to choose."
Brian sighed, tilting Michael's head back under the water to comb out the suds. "That's not a choice."
"Don't make me," Michael whispered, eyes closed.
Biting his tongue as he grabbed conditioner, Brian argued with himself for doing this. He knew not to make Michael choose. Hell, wasn't he always the one that told everyone else that if they made Mikey choose, they were going to lose him? It was true for the most part. Someone always lost when they made Michael choose, but it was never Brian. The good doctor had proved that much. Maybe he hadn't been thinking clearly, but that was a lie. Brian had been thinking perfectly since that first time and all he thought about was Michael. Sure it was awkward at first, but they worked around it. Shit, things were perfect for awhile. They spent more time together, went out, hung out. It wasn't always sex. In fact, after that first time, they hadn't slept together for about a month, thinking it was a mistake. But it all went downhill without them realizing it. They stopped going out for lunch. They wouldn't show up for breakfast at the diner together anymore and then no more nights out together unless it was a little rendezvous at Brian's loft. They didn't drink together anymore and drugs were out of the question. Anything that was usually normal for them was now off limits and Brian was tired of it. He missed Mikey, all of him, not just the part that came to his bed.
Massaging the cream into the dark hair, Brian found himself at a loss for words. Especially after realizing that he may not like the choice Michael would make. Michael would be one to spare him pain, and this might be his way of doing it. By asking Brian to try and not make him choose. Shit, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Brian wasn't sure how he had wanted it to go, but not like this.
"Head back," Brian said, running his hands through Michael's hair as he did so.
"Anything I can do to change your mind?" Michael asked, pressing up a little closer to Brian behind him.
"Surprisingly, that won't change my mind."
Brian saw Michael's eyebrows rise in mild shock. "That is surprising. I really don't have a choice do I?"
"Of course you do, Mikey. Me or him, that's your choice."
Michael smiled loosely, righting his head and turning around to face Brian. "You're not going to completely screw with my life, are you? Following me, romantic gestures and foiling plots Ben may come up with to keep me with him?"
Brian snorted, rolling his eyes. "Are you reading trashy romance novels now, Mikey? I don't do romance and if Justin taught me anything, stalking is so six years ago. Has it made a comeback?"
Michael rested his head on Brian's chest, wrapping his arms around his waist. "You know I love you, right?"
"Always have, always will."
He didn't want to think about where this might be going. Michael didn't have a decision made right off the bat and now he didn't even have a best friend to consult about it. To help him or to comfort him when it all went south, because there was no way they were coming out of this clean.
A/N: I'm sure we're all a little confused right now (I am), but the next chapter will start connecting things together. So, leave a review, good or bad. Hey, even make some guesses! Until next time!
~SL