Title: Best Friends
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Michael Novotny had "another best friend" Brian is curious about. A cryptic letter from the past best friend sends both boys into rethinking their own relationship... and beginning their close, unbreakable bond.
Disclaimer: I understand that CowLip and Showtime own the rights to these boys, I'm merely "borrowing" them for the time being. This story made for fun, not for profit. No infringement intended.

Dedicated to... the girls at the Dynamic Duo Haven, thanks for the support.

Best Friends

"So, can I come over after school?" Brian Kinney asked Michael Novotny as they swiveled on their stools in science class, while waiting for their teacher to arrive.

"Sure, I guess," Michael replied, shrugging.

Brian gave him a peculiar look. "Look, if you don't want to hang—"

Michael cut him off. "It's not that, it's just," he paused, not knowing how to say it.

"Just what?" prompted his friend.

"It's just that, you're always coming over to my house. We never go over to your house. I've never even been there once. Why do we always have to hang out at my place? Can't we hang out at yours?"

Frowning, Brian ran a hand through his honey-brown locks. "Because we can't."

"But why," moaned Michael, getting annoyed. Brian always clammed up about going to his place. Was it really so bad?

"Because we just can't, all right? Look, if you don't want to hang out with me, just say so. No skin off my nose," he said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

Swallowing, Michael shook his head. "It's not that, Brian. I do. I just don't know why your house is like a secret. Are you ashamed of me or something?"

Hazel eyes widened and flashed to Michael who sat nervously on the edge of his stool. Why on earth would Michael think that? "Why would I be ashamed of you, Mikey?"

Looking down at his feet, Michael sighed and said, "I don't know. Because I'm me."

God, sometimes Brian really hated how low Michael's self-esteem could be. "That's bullshit, Mikey. You're fine. It's them. They aren't."

"Your parents?"

"Jack and Joan and Claire are just…you don't need to meet them, okay?"

It wasn't okay, but Michael realized he shouldn't press any further with his friend. "Okay," he said softly. "You can come over after Spanish."

"Cool," Brian said with a small grin. He rifled through his jean jacket pocket and extracted a pack of gum. "Want one, Mikey?"

"Sure," he said, accepting the stick of Fruit Stripe gum.

"Brian, Michael, please be quiet," Miss Thatcher, their science teacher warned them. They slinked back on their stools, embarrassed. They hadn't even noticed Miss Thatcher entering the room.

For the remainder of the period, they were on their best behavior. Class ended and they went to their respective lockers to drop off their books, pick up their Spanish books, and then they raced through the halls to class. Michael was finding Spanish more fun with Brian in his class because Brian helped him grasp the language. Brian had been right, it was really similar to Italian.

"I gotta take a piss," announced Brian at the end of class.

Rolling his eyes, Michael asked him to repeat that in Spanish. This time Brian rolled his eyes at him and told him to wait for him at his locker so they could walk to the Novotny house together. When Michael arrived at his locker, he found one of his buddies waiting for him.

"Hey Michael," greeted Pete Fox.

"Hey Pete. What's up?" he asked as he entered his combo to unlock his locker.

"Are you coming over to Eric's after school? We're gonna play Pac-Man and some other games. And his mom is ordering pizza for us."

Shaking his head as he thrust his Spanish book into the back of his locker and grabbed what he needed for his homework, Michael said, "I can't. I have plans. Sorry." He pulled on his jacket while rummaging for a few more things he needed.

His friend frowned. "You always have plans, Michael. Let me guess, you're hanging out with Kinney."

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Michael slammed his locker shut. "Why does it matter who I hang out with? I hang out with you guys too."

"Yeah but, not like before," Pete said faintly, referring to "Before Brian."

Brian, meanwhile had finished in the bathroom and was at his locker when he caught one of Michael's friends talking to him. He saw Michael shifting on his feet and shaking his head. Wonder what that's about, he thought.

"Don't be mad, Pete. I'll hang out with you guys tomorrow. I promise," he added, and he meant it.

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

"I know. And we'll do our usual, okay?" Michael asked with hope in his eyes. He hated whenever one of the guys was upset with him. He didn't like to upset people.

Nodding, Pete accepted Michael's promise. "Okay, see ya Michael."

"See ya, Pete."

"What did that guy want?" asked a voice from behind.

"Ack!" Michael yelped, spinning around 'til he came face to face with a smirking Brian Kinney.

"Brian," he scolded. "Don't do that. You're always catching me off guard," he said with a shake of his head.

"Sorry, Mikey. So what did that guy—Pat—want?"

"His name's Pete and he wanted to know if I'd come over to Eric's place and hang with the guys," Michael informed him as they both strolled out of the junior high school.

"Hmm," was all that Brian would say.

"Hmm?"

"You know, you're free to hang out with "the guys" anytime you want. You don't have to say no on account of me," Brian told him.

"I know," Michael said, his voice soft. "I do still hang with them, maybe not as much as before but, they'll get over it. I told him I'd hang out with them tomorrow." He didn't look at Brian so he didn't catch the disappointment in his friend's face. Brian had hoped to hang with Michael on Saturday, maybe catch a movie or something. As long as it meant that he wasn't at home. Now he needed a new plan.

"Besides," added Michael as they continued down the street. "I wanna hang with you today."

"Cool," Brian said, trying to keep his tone light and not show how much that meant to him, that Michael would give up his time with his other friends to hang out with him.

"Oh, I should warn you," Michael began as they neared a corner.

"About what?"

"Ma will be home. She doesn't work 'til 6 tonight. On the plus side it means she'll make dinner for us so no leftovers."

"What's the warning about?" Brian wondered, confused.

"Nothing, I just. You know how Mom can get."

No further explanation necessary. Debbie Novotny was a one-of-a-kind woman and mother. Brian had never quite met anyone like her before. Brian was unsure of what Michael's mother thought of him. If she didn't like him, she didn't say or act like it. This was good because if she hated him that would mean that he and Mikey couldn't hang out anymore and well, that would suck.

"She's not so bad, Mikey," admitted Brian.

Michael turned to face Brian. "I know she's not. She's my mom and I love her. But she can be uhh," he paused, trying to decide how to describe his mother.

Brian looked expectantly at Michael to finish his thought.

"She can be kind of overbearing, you know?" Michael bit his lower lip, feeling a little ashamed for admitting that about his mother. But it was true.

"Oh Mikey," Brian called his name using a sing-songy voice.

"What?" he asked, growing defensive.

"Nothing. She's overbearing, yes. But that's because you're her little baby boy." Brian said this with a baby voice and Michael scrunched up his face in response, saying that he was not a baby.

"Yeah but you'll always be hers," Brian informed him. "To Debbie, the sun rises and sets in you. Not every kid is that fucking lucky."

Brian grew quiet and Michael grew pensive, wondering what kind of mother Joan Kinney was. His friend never told him and he would always clam up whenever he tried to fish for information on Jack, Joan, and Claire.

"I know. And I adore her. She and Uncle Vic are all I have, you know?"

Brian nodded, knowing how much Michael longed for his father the fallen war hero. One day, Michael would realize that fathers aren't all they're cracked up to be. But for now, well what did it harm anyone to have him worship his dead dad? Brian couldn't think of any.

They walked slowly towards the Novotny house, amiably keeping conversation. "Your uncle means a lot to you, huh?" he mused.

"Well yeah. He's my uncle. And he's uh, he's the closest thing to a father I'll ever have," he added quietly.

There it was. That forlorn look. For some reason, Brian's stomach twisted inside whenever he saw Michael look like that. He wished there were something he could do for his friend, but he knew it was of no avail.

"Who knows," Brian offered, lightening his tone. "Maybe your mom will find some guy and get married. Then you'll have a step dad."

Scrunching up his nose, Michael shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Ma doesn't date. I mean, she does, but not a lot. I don't think she's interested."

"Seriously? But your dad, I mean it's been…14 years."

"I know," Michael replied, stuffing his hands in his back pockets as they crossed the street. "But she really loved him."

"Wow," Brian whistled in surprise. "That's pretty…amazing."

Michael nodded but didn't say anything further and Brian knew it would be wise to switch the subject to something that didn't involve parents, so as they rounded the corner towards Michael's house, Brian started asking him about the latest Spiderman comic book. That instantly brought a smile to his face—it was really neat how something so simple could make that boy smile.

They arrived at Michael's house and the boys bounded up the porch steps, Brian shifting on his feet as he waited for Michael to find his key and unlock the door. Once that was accomplished, Michael let them in and he called out to his mother.

"Hey Ma, we're here," he announced.

Debbie Novotny was in the living room, watching her "stories" as she liked calling them. "Hi baby," she called from her seat on the couch, not looking up.

Michael waited for his mom to greet his friend. Did she not hear him when he said "we're here"?

"Ma?" he questioned expectantly.

"Michael what is it? I'm watching my stories."

Brian took that moment to snicker.

Rolling her eyes, Debbie said, "Ahh, we have a guest."

"That's what I said, Ma. One Life to Live will wait."

"Michael, you know soaps don't do repeats."

"Yeah, yeah but let me guess: Viki and Clint are breaking up. Again. Or Asa is getting married for the 10th time."

Brian laughed at that. "Mikey, I didn't know you were a soap fan."

Michael glared at his friend. "Shut up. I'm not. But Ma goes on and on about them, as if she knows these characters."

"Michael, stop mocking your poor mother. Now come over and give me a kiss."

"Oh Ma," grumbled Michael who begrudgingly walked over to his mother and bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. Debbie returned with one on Michael's forehead, leaving a lipstick print, which made Brian snicker, but this time he kept it to himself.

"Hello Brian," Debbie finally said once the commercial came on.

"Mrs. Novotny," Brian said pleasantly.

"I've told you before, call me Debbie or Deb."

"Sorry, Mrs. Novotny."

"What are you two boys up to today?"

"I was thinking Brian and I would rob a bank and then I could buy EVERY comic book at Buzzy's…heck I could buy the store from him," Michael said with sincerity.

"Michael Charles Novotny," warned Debbie and Michael merely laughed and said he was just teasing. He told her that they were going to hang out and read comics and listen to music and then have dinner. Pretty much what they did every day that Brian came over—which was more and more often lately.

"All right, just don't get up to trouble."

Michael shared a glance with Brian and then promised his mom that they wouldn't. He was about to head upstairs with Brian at his heels when his mom stood up and stopped him. "Wait, Michael, you have mail."

"I do?" Michael asked, knitting his brows together. That wasn't something he often received. "Oooh…is it a postcard from Uncle Vic?" he wondered with eager anticipation. His uncle would send him a new postcard every now and again from some place he happened to wander into—sometimes music stores, other times souvenir shops. Michael had a collection that he taped to the inside of his bedroom door.

Shaking her red wig, Debbie told him it wasn't from her brother. "Not today. It's from Charlie. Charlie Dodd."

The use of his last name was unnecessary. Of course Michael knew what Charlie she meant. His best friend. Immediately a grin formed on his face.

"Really? Awesome. I bet he's going to tell me when he can come to visit. He said he'd try to come out for break."

"I know that you've been waiting to hear about that. It will be good to see him, huh baby?"

Michael nodded in agreement which Brian stood still, sighing to himself. Charlie Dodd this and Charlie Dodd that. Michael was known to go on and on about his best friend. And he told Brian that he couldn't wait to introduce the two of them to each other, so convinced was he that they'd hit it off. Brian could care less. He personally thought this best friend business was overrated. Or maybe that Charlie was.

Debbie handed her son the envelope and watched as he smiled in anticipation. "I can't wait for his visit, Ma."

Debbie told him not to wait any longer so Michael ripped off the back of the envelope and pulled out the letter. Brian was paying close attention to Michael's reactions and was caught off guard by the abrupt change of expression on his friend's face as he read the letter. From excitement to deflation, in minutes.

Upon finishing the letter, Michael swallowed, choking back emotions and shakily stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

Brian wasn't the only one paying attention to him, Debbie carefully watched her son and she noticed his face fall, before he put a mask of indifference on.

"Michael?" she questioned gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he responded quietly, shaking his head.

Well that was a lie, though Brian. Something was obviously wrong with the older teen.

Debbie tried a different approach with her son. "So when is Charlie coming?"

Michael's mask slipped. "He's not." Not looking at his mother or at Brian, Michael promptly ran out of the living room and up the stairs until he reached his bedroom and he slammed his door shut and flopped onto his bed.

"Michael," his mother called after him. "Michael honey come back down here, tell me what's wrong."

Of course there was no response. "Shit," Debbie said, and then repeated it when she realized that she'd said that aloud.

She turned to face Brian and gave him a helpless look. "I'll try to talk to him," he offered.

"Thank. Thank you Brian," she said sincerely, watching as he nodded and then trudged up the stairs.

Knocking softly on the door, Brian heard a muffled voice say, "I don't want to talk, Ma."

"It's me, Mikey."

Sighing as he curled himself into a ball on his bed, Michael told him that the door was open and he was free to enter, if he wanted to. Brian did just that and he frowned when he saw the ball that his friend had huddled himself into. "Mikey?"

Michael didn't respond, he just tried to even his breathing. "Mikey do you need your inhaler? Are you having an asthma attack?" Brian asked worriedly as he listened to his friend's labored breathing.

Michael merely shook his head. He wasn't having an asthma attack. He was just upset. And sometimes when he got upset, he worked himself into a state where he could have an attack.

Not knowing how exactly to approach his friend, Brian kneeled on the floor next to the twin bed and looked up at Michael whose face was red and eyes puffy—if Michael hadn't started crying, he was certainly close. What the fuck had that boy written to Michael?

"Mikey," he said softly.

"I don't wanna talk," Michael said and curled himself further into a ball, a determined look on his face.

Growing uncomfortable in the position he was in, Brian sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, Michael's face hovering over his. He wanted to show Michael that he would be there when and if Michael was ready to talk. So he sat there, not saying a word, just looking at the wall across from the bed. Getting bored of that after a while, he turned to look at Michael's nightstand. There was a photo of his dead dad (the same photo that was on the mantle in the living room), one of Debbie and a man Brian assumed was Michael's Uncle Vic—he could see a bit of a family resemblance, at least between the siblings—and finally one of Michael with his arms around a boy that was the infamous Charlie Dodd. The boy didn't look anything special. Just your typical teen. He had sandy blond hair and green eyes. He was a few inches taller than Michael and was giving him "bunny ears." Michael had the biggest grin on his face. They definitely looked like best friends.

Not that Brian really knew what that was like. Oh sure he had friends at his new school and he'd had friends at his other schools but that was the thing, the Kinneys had moved around a lot when Brian was a kid so he never established deep friendships and then when they moved to the Pitts, Brian was "over" the need of wanting a best friend so he was a bit aloof at times. He had enough to get by. Until he met Michael, that is. He'd never had a friend quite like Michael Charles Novotny. If he felt this way, just months after meeting him, he couldn't imagine what Charlie could have said to him and they'd been friends "forever" as Michael had once told him.

"You can throw that away, you know. Or maybe throw it against the wall. Maybe I will. Smash it to pieces. Because what the fuck is it but a lie?"

Michael's voice was so low, so serious, and so sullen, Brian didn't know how to take it. He'd never seen his friend like this and it worried him. He was used to having these feelings and moods but it seemed wrong for Michael to.

Brian turned to look back at Michael and swallowed when he saw the look on his friend's face. His friend had "hardened" and not in the good way.

"Jaded cynic doesn't look good on you, Mikey," came his new approach.

This pissed him off further. "Who the fuck are you to tell me?"

"I'm your friend. Nothing that best friend of yours said is worth you getting this upset."

"You have no idea. And he's not my best friend. Not anymore; I don't have one."

"Well fucking tell me." Brian's hazel eyes were steely in their resolve. Finally, Michael took the letter which he had crumpled in his fists and handed it to Brian. "Read it," he instructed.

Brian did as ordered and he swore under his breath as he read it. "He's a fucking asshole, Mikey, you don't need him."

"Yeah, well he doesn't need me anymore. He has a new best friend now, someone who's so much cooler than geeky comic book nerd me."

"You're not a geek. And so what if you like comics? Am I a dweeb or something because I do too?"

Michael shrugged. "You're not a loser. I don't care what he says. He's a fucking jackass. He can take his new best friend and he can take his girlfriend and shove them up his ass."

Michael gave him a pointed look and Brian continued. "Why the fuck does he say he was "experimenting"? And what did he mean by "it didn't mean anything and you need to get over it already?"

Michael let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Could he share this with Brian?

"He goes on to say more shitty things about you and your friendship and other things which I have no idea what they mean."

"Ten years, Brian. Ten fucking years, and it's down the tubes in minutes. Fuck him! Fuck you, Charlie Dodd!" Michael yelled as he suddenly sprang up on the bed. "You're not fucking worth it! And you don't know how to kiss either."

Brian was cheering Michael's anger on, he knew his friend needed to release that aggression and then he was left dumbfounded by that last statement.

"Come again?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Michael looked nervously around the room. "I uh, you heard me."

"But how would…Mikey, you and Charlie kissed?"

Chocolate brown eyes nodded. "Yeah and at the time he said it was the best kiss he'd ever had and well fuck, he was the first person—er, guy—that I kissed and I thought it was special to him, and I thought it meant something. I thought *I* meant something to him. Pretty fucking stupid, huh?"

Moving to stand behind him, Brian wrapped his arms around him. "You're not stupid, Mikey. He is. You *are* special and don't let Charlie Dodd or any other fucker tell you otherwise. Are you listening to me, Michael?"

Nodding, Michael relaxed in his friend's embrace, enjoying the feel of the taller boy's arms around him. He had been learning that Brian could be very touchy-feely and Michael loved that about him. He loved to be held and protected.

"Yes, I'm listening. Thank you, Bri," Michael said softly, squeezing Brian's waist.

"Good. Now don't think about him anymore, okay? He's thousands of miles away in fucking Oregon. What the fuck is there, anyway? The Pitts isn't so bad in comparison and New York City is pretty close."

"We should go there sometime. To New York, I mean. Wouldn't that be cool? We could stay with my Uncle Vic. He'd like you, you know."

"Yeah? He go for young ass?"

"Brian!" chastised Michael, stifling a giggle.

"Not that young, silly. He's not a pedophile."

Brian smiled into Michael's hair—hair which was soft and smelled of vanilla. Mikey must have borrowed his mother's shampoo. "That's good to know."

"Then I'd finally get to meet his boyfriend. I think he's afraid to introduce him to Ma," he admitted with a snort.

Brian tickled Michael who yelped in response. "Why, does she have a problem with queers?"

"Ma?!" Michael was incredulous. "Are you kidding me? She's like Vic's greatest champion."

"What about you?"

"What about me? Oh…that…well, she says she's known since I was five that I'm gay." That response elicited a smile from Brian.

"So you are? Wasn't just a one-time thing, kissing that Dodd character?"

Michael turned around to face his friend and gave him a bashful smile. "No, I am. You know." He looked into the hazel depths to see if there was any judgment or repulsion but all he received was kindness.

"I know," Brian whispered back.

Michael had suspected similar about Brian, but he never bothered to ask. He figured it would come out if and when it needed to. He wasn't going to pressure Brian, just because he admitted the truth. Still, he felt so much relief. Ever since he first met the "new kid," Michael had felt a kinship with Brian and it was one that was growing stronger with each day. He didn't know what he would do without him.

"You're my best friend," he confided.

Shaking his head, Brian told him, "Mikey, you don't have to say that because—"

Michael cut him off, holding a finger to Brian's lips. "Shh. It's not cuz of Charlie. Promise. I'm over that—him. But seriously, you're my best friend. I mean, if you want to be."

He was so adorable, and he didn't even realize it. How could Brian resist? There was a part of him that wanted to kiss the finger that lay on his bottom lip, but he couldn't do that; it was too soon. "Okay, Mikey. Do we have to have some sort of special handshake or shit like that?"

Michael burst out laughing and Brian held him to his chest and kissed his forehead. "Nah. But we do have to cut ourselves and mix our blood together so we can become blood brothers. Kidding, just kidding," he added when he felt Brian stiffen.

"There are no rules," he explained. "Best friends are just there for each other when they need it. Like Galaxy Lad and Captain Astro."

"You and the Cap'n."

"That's you. And I'm Galaxy Lad."

"Hmm. I don't know, Captain is a big responsibility. How 'bout I be Superman."

"What does that make me? Jimmy Olsen?" Michael asked with a guffaw.

"No, silly, Lois Lane."

Mouth hanging open, Michael playfully punched his friend in the ribs. "Fuck you, Brian Kinney."

"Dinner first and then fucking. I don't come cheaply or easily."

"That's not what I heard!" claimed Michael and Brian retaliated by tickling his best friend until they were rolling around on the floor, laughing and out of breath.

The End