"I thought the girls were going to go up to Toronto to see you…didn't know they had changed their plans," Michael said, trying to keep the obvious confusion out of his voice.
"They still are. But I wanted to come down to Pittsburgh before that," Brian said. The distance between them had clearly helped; they hadn't argued once since he had arrived at Michael's place unannounced.
Ben walked into the living room, offering Brian a beer. "You'll stay for dinner, right? We haven't seen you in forever. Give me half an hour, and I can cook something up for all three of us."
"Or we could just order pizza…or Chinese," Michael said.
Ben smiled genially. "It's no bother. Brian, what's your preference?"
Brian actually considered the matter; he had been spoilt as of late with almost consistent home-cooked meals. "Sure, why don't you make something?"
Brian noted that Michael watched him intently, as Ben asked him some specifics about dinner before heading to the kitchen.
"Brian, are you okay? You've never actually opted to eat Ben's cooking…"
Brian exhaled loudly. He didn't want to be here, not really. Yet, he had to do this. In person. It was time. If all the non-talking with Justin had shown him anything, it was that he didn't want to waste years and years making a similar mistake.
"Mikey…Michael, listen to me. Are you listening?"
Michael looked at him, confused and worried. "Of course I'm listening," he said, as he moved to sit next to Brian on the sofa.
"I'm sorry."
"What?" Michael asked, uncomprehendingly.
"You're making me repeat myself? I said I was sorry. About…I took it too far with Stockwell. I took it too far. It was a mistake, and we all ended up paying for it…but especially you." Brian grasped Michael's shoulder. His voice might have been casual, but his grip belied the seriousness of what he was saying.
Brian had dreaded having this conversation, even though it was long overdue. But now that he was actually here, it wasn't so hard. In fact, it wasn't hard at all. It was actually easier having this conversation with Michael, than it had been admitting his mistake and weakness with Justin during Christmas.
"Especially you. You shouldn't have lost Hunter. And I'm sorry that I helped make that happen."
"Sooo…this set here…that's my first choice, and they fit the theme. This set here are ones that aren't as good. And these random ones – they're good, but I don't think they really fit with the theme. You're the ad guy. What do you think?"
Brian looked at the photos that Jerome had separated. "It's a hipster restaurant with over-priced food. I think you should raise the price, for starters. Aside from that…" Brian swapped some of the photographs around. "There. I'd go with this set."
"Hmmm…" Jerome looked at his set critically. "I'm going to come back to them in a bit, and see what I think. There's something…not quite right with this selection."
Brian rolled his eyes. "Why do you ask for someone's opinion if you're just going to do whatever you want?"
"Because. I don't know what I want. I was hoping that the bad ideas of other people might guide me to what I really wanted." Jerome stared at Brian. "You've been like a caged tiger for the last few weeks. What the hell on earth is eating you?"
Brian looked around the empty store, and sat himself down in the empty chair behind the counter. "Where's Justin?"
"Painting. Presumably at his place. He's behind on getting material together for the show that woman is throwing together."
"Lucy?"
"Yes, that woman. I knew she had a name. So? Are we going to play twenty questions, or –"
"Is Justin in love with me?"
"Aaaah," Jerome said thoughtfully, biting the corner of his lip. "Isn't that a question better posed to him?"
The irony of Jerome asking him the selfsame question that he had asked Howard was not lost on Brian. "Possibly, but I'm asking you instead. Do you know if Justin is in love with me?"
"Well, that's a silly question. Obviously I know. You know that I know. I know that you know that I know. You're asking me whether I know, so that I will, hopefully, confirm your suspicions. Well, hopeful for you, in any event."
Brian sighed in mild exasperation. "I should've guessed that you'd take this attitude. So? Are you confirming my suspicions?"
"Well, that's another silly question." Jerome looked around the store. "You know what we need in here? A sofa. A couch. Even an ottoman. Something I can lie down on. Not just bloody straight-back chairs." Jerome sighed dramatically, as he plopped down in the other chair.
"Yes, your life is a tragedy," Brian deadpanned. "Can we get back to the subject at hand?"
"What? Oh. Right. Where was I?"
Brian contemplated waiting it out, but then realised that he didn't have the patience for it. "Suspicions. Silly questions."
"Ah, yes. That. Well, these are all silly questions. You know that I know whether Justin is in love with you. Or not. It's also silly of you to expect me to tell you. Because I won't. I really think you should have figured this one out for yourself. Which…I suppose you have, but I'm not going to confirm your suspicions either."
"Wouldn't it be easier for all of us if you do?"
Jerome shrugged. "I heard that the two of you have started communicating with each other about things you should have discussed…umm…approximately five years ago. Progress! Yaaay! So. I don't think I should help you out now. Besides which, what does it even matter? Isn't it a bit too late to be worrying about the extent of Justin's feelings for you? Or the nature of said feelings?"
Brian narrowed his eyes. "Too late? What precisely does 'too late' mean?"
"Oh. My. Gaaaaah. I mean, you are so far in already; it's a bit too late now to worry. Do you even realise that relationships can take more than one…more than one form? Just because the sex and sweat and kissing and bed head are all missing, doesn't mean it isn't a relationship, you know."
Brian stared at Jerome.
"I will tell you this, though," Jerome said seriously. "If I were dating someone…seeing someone…being in a non-relationship with someone…for a year or so, and they hadn't yet said 'I love you,' I would move to an island in the middle of the ocean, fling up a wall of nettles and poison ivy to keep the world out, and curse the human race for the rest of my miserable existence. So…go on. Tell him you're in love with him. Just say it, right now, go ahead, I'll wait. Even a phone call or a text will do at this point, honestly. Like I've said before, subtlety gets you only so far in life."
"We are not –" Brian started.
Jerome sighed. "So that's a no, then? You won't be calling him right now?"
Brian picked up a pen off the counter, and twirled it silently for a few minutes before he spoke. "He's still afraid." He looked up to meet Jerome's eyes. "You know this. He's not ready. He's still afraid. He's still waiting for me to kick him out again."
"Hmmm…possibly. Probably. Possibly." Jerome bit his lower lip again, clearly mulling over something. "You know why Justin is painting right now?"
Brian frowned, thrown off track by the question. "Because…he's behind on getting material ready?"
"That's the bottom line, oui. But. He should have had things ready quite a while back, because the show was to be before Christmas. But he asked that woman –"
"Lucy," Brian supplied.
"Right. Lucy. He asked her to postpone the show – his show – because he knew he couldn't get everything ready on time, with the store and Christmas sales and…you falling sick. This is our business – our bread and butter - but that's his career. That he put on hold, partially…mostly, for you. So…all I know is, between the two of you, someone will be moving to that island in the middle of the ocean, and moving there soon, unless someone does something. And by someone, I mean you."