A/N: Whatever you do, don't panic. Just read to the end. And please do share your thoughts. This was hard to write. A little ouchy.

Brian and Justin had danced for a few songs when Michael walked in. He was annoyed when he saw them together. Clearly, Ethan had not pulled the trigger (calling Justin), or Justin was sneakier than Michael had given him credit for and had managed to hide the phone calls from Brian. He would have to do something. He would have to give Brian a reason to suspect. It was for Brian's own good. Once a cheater, always a cheater. That's what his mom always said. Justin had broken the rules and lied about it. He had humiliated Brian and could never be trusted again. Michael was NOT going to let that twink continue to make a fool out of Brian Fucking Kinney. NO WAY. People were already starting to talk because they had noticed Brian hadn't been tricking. If they only knew that Brian was "in love" with a kid, a kid who preferred some dirty hipster to the stud of Liberty Avenue, Brian's reputation would never recover. He would be a has-been, the butt of every joke.

Michael approached Brian and Justin. Justin's face was buried in Brian's neck, and Brian had his head resting against Justin's. Their eyes were closed. They were slow dancing, but the DJ was, of course, playing house. Michael scoffed. Then he said, "Hey!" brightly.

Brian and Justin both looked up. Justin smiled and said, "Hey."

Michael ignored Justin and asked Brian cheerfully, "Hey, no dance for your best friend?"

Brian looked at Justin, and, when Justin shrugged and departed (ostensibly to rejoin Emmett and Ted), Brian pulled Michael into his arms.

Michael thought he'd best start with a little unrelated small talk. "Ben and I had the greatest day. We went skinny dipping this morning and then spent the day fucking."

Brian stuck his lip out a bit and nodded (as if to say, "impressive").

"Oh … and I won a bid for this comic I've been trying to get my hands on for the last two years …"

"Cool."

Michael couldn't think of anything else to say. He was nervous and eager to get this over with. "So … how have you been? You know, since last night?"

Brian furrowed his brow, but said nothing.

"You know … uh … have you seen any more of Ethan?"

Brian's forehead cleared. "Ah. No."

"Huh." This was one of those, that seems weird … are you sure? kind of huhs.

Brian sighed. "What?"

"Well, you know, he seemed determined, and Justin, well, he seemed …"

Brian clenched a fist but kept his face blank. He managed to sound simply annoyed, "He seemed, what, Mikey?"

Michael laughed and shrugged. "You know, uh, smitten, as Emmett would say."

Brian smiled and nodded. "Did he, now?"

"Yeah … when Ethan came into the diner, he froze, and, then, he just stood there. I kind of thought Justin was gonna cry and run into his arms. It's like he totally forgot you were there or even existed."

Brian nodded slowly, but said nothing. All the tension from the morning returned.

"So … has Justin been acting normal?"

Brian smiled again, almost a genuine smile, and lilted, "That presupposes he ever acted normal."

Michael laughed. "You know what I mean, normal for him … all over you all the time … talkative ..."

Brian's face lost all pretence of a smile then. It had undergone a wardrobe change into an impassive mask. That face, Justin's reaction to Ethan swam in front of his vision once more. He remembered his disappointment that Justin had only called once. The empty loft.

"I'm just saying …"

Brian snapped. "What? What exactly are you saying?"

Michael turned red. He hated it when Brian yelled at him, but saving his best friend was worth a little unpleasantness. "Ma always said, 'Once a cheater, always a cheater.' So … I'd just be on the lookout for strange behavior, missing time, quiet."

Brian put all his energy into faking a smile. His eyes even seemed to dance. "Duly noted." Brian pulled Michael close, in the hope that he would stop talking and patiently waited for the current song to end. His entire body ached, as though he'd run a marathon without stretching first.

Ben walked in at just the same moment. He was happier than he'd been in a long while. He and Michael had both shirked their respective duties for the day and spent it making love, snuggling, and talking. Emmett truly was a genius. They'd made love in the water, on the grass, in the car, in the living room, the kitchen, and then finally in the bedroom. Ben was pretty sure he would not be capable of an orgasm for the next day at least. He had done very little actual work that day, just a couple of hours of grading while Michael ran a few errands and changed for Babylon, but he was exhausted. In fact, he was planning to ask Michael if they could cut their evening short and watch a movie in bed instead. That's when he saw Brian and Michael. Brian had his arms around Michael's waist and had pulled him close, and Michael seemed to be enjoying that closeness. His eyes were closed, his arms were around Brian's neck, and his head was on Brian's shoulder. Ben repeated the way-too-familiar mantra over and over in his head: "They're just friends. They're just friends."

As soon as the song ended, Brian muttered, "Need a drink" and headed in the direction of the bar. But he didn't stop there. Instead he found a dark corner, pulled out his phone and the slip of paper that had been searing his skin all day, dialed the number, and hit the call button. Someone answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Ethan?"

"You got him."

Brian hit end.

Brian's chest suddenly felt hollow, and he broke out into a cold sweat. He passed his hand over his face and glanced up at Justin, still on the catwalk. He was smiling and laughing as Emmett spoke, probably telling one of his goofy down home stories or recounting the details of his latest conquest. Brian was drowning in conflicting urges and emotions. He wanted to fuck Justin, face to face, and slowly, all night, and then squeeze the life out of him. He'd never loved him or hated him more. He shut his eyes tightly and rolled his lips into his mouth, trying to quell the nausea threatening to overtake him. No go. Brian hurriedly walked toward and then out the door, taking just one step outside before beginning to dry heave (he had eaten very little that day and not in many hours).

Unbeknownst to Brian, both Justin and Michael had seen Brian exit. Both were worried. Both followed.

Unbeknownst to Michael, Ben saw Michael watching Brian and followed him toward the door.

Justin reached Brian first. Seeing him huddled over, he started rubbing his back and prodded softly, "Hey …. what's wrong?"

Brian shot up, standing up straight more quickly than he probably should have. He grabbed the wall to steady himself. Then he threw the slip of paper, still clenched in his fist, at Justin. Brian hissed, "That's what's wrong."

Justin was stunned. He gaped and shook his head. "What? I don't understand."

"Don't you recognize your boyfriend's number?"

Justin picked the slip of paper off the ground. He stopped breathing when he saw Ethan's number written in Brian's careful print. His eyes widened. He shook his head and came nearer to Brian. "Brian, this isn't what you think ..."

"No? What is it that I think?"

Justin swallowed hard. He was three seconds away from full panic. "I know you got this off my phone. He called and left a message, but … I … I didn't give him my number."

"Right. Then how did he get it?"

Justin threw his arms out helplessly. "I … I honestly don't know."

Brian nodded slowly. "If his calling was so innocent, why did you lie about it? I asked you who called."

Justin nodded frantically. "And I said it was no one important. He's not."

"Justin …" Brian's voice quaked. He muttered, "Fuck!" He turned away and blinked a few times. Then he closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing. He had to steel himself for what must inevitably come next.

This is the moment Michael bumbled in, though neither Brian nor Justin noticed. Ben watched from the doorway.

When Brian turned back to face Justin, his eyes were dry, and his voice steady. "I want you out of the loft. Tonight."

Tears welled up in Justin's eyes. "Brian," he pleaded, "the call … it's a misunderstanding … "don't do this ..."

Brian replied flatly, "It's already done."

"Brian, please, you're making a mistake …"

Unable to keep the tears out of his voice, Brian admitted, "I did make a mistake. Trusting you." He paused. His voice colder now, he declared, "Now I'm rectifying that." He started to walk away.

Michael reached out to Brian, trying to squeeze his shoulder, but Brian shrugged him off and strode back into the club. Then he really did get a drink.

Justin just stood there. For a long time. His eyes full of as-yet unshed tears.

Michael sat beside Brian. "I'm so sorry, Brian …" He did his best to actually sound sorry.

Brian ignored him.

A little too cheerily, Michael continued, "I'll admit that I saw this coming, but ..." He paused and took a deep breath, again trying to fake upset he did not feel, "But I'm upset that you're upset."

Brian tossed back his drink. He mumbled, "Another" to the nearest bartender.

"He was too young for you. Too immature. He didn't deserve you. I think he was probably just using you. You were his sugardaddy. It's good you got rid of him before he'd made a complete fool out of you."

Brian finished his second drink in one gulp. Rather than ask for another, he growled, "Just leave the bottle."

"I knew Justin couldn't be trusted. I mean, Ethan was always hanging around the diner." Michael's voice increased in volume and pitch, and his eyes widened. "And then that SONG." Michael shook his head in disapproval. "You get Justin a great new phone, and what does he do? Gives that twerp his number."

That got Brian's attention. He growled, "What?"

Michael, completely oblivious to the danger he had wandered into, barreled on: "I mean, I get it. After such an emotional outpouring, how could Justin not give the guy his new number? But still, a dick move ..."

Brian stared at Michael intently. "How did you know he had a new phone?"

Michael's eyes widened. "Um … oh … you know … I tried calling, and I got that message saying he'd canceled service."

Brian played along. Michael knew something he wasn't saying. "Right. Course. So uh Justin gave Ethan his number after the song?"

Michael relaxed. "Oh yeah."

"You saw him?"

Michael nodded solemnly.

Brian pushed his glass away from him, nearly sending it over edge of the bar. Then he took a step toward Michael. In a voice that scared Michael, Brian's too-calm voice, he said, "Mikey, you didn't see Justin give Ethan his number after the song." A statement.

Michael started fidgeting. "What?"

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth for a moment and then continued, his voice still too even, but this time with a dark glint in his eyes, "Mikey, did you give Ethan Justin's phone number?"

"What?" Michael scoffed. "Of course not." He turned bright red.

Brian looked at Michael with hurt and disgust in his eyes. He shook his head and clenched a fist.

"Fuck!"

Michael pleaded, "Brian … wait, I …"

Brian turned away. Then he stormed out. He cursed again (and punched the wall) when he realized Justin had already gone. He allowed himself one more "Fuck!" Then he went looking for Justin. He wasn't sure where he would go (the loft, Daphne's, the studio, his mom's), but he had to find him. Right the fuck now.

Ben had watched their exchange, had overheard everything. He was still watching Michael when Michael turned around, looking sadly in the direction Brian had gone. That's when his eyes met Ben's.

He jumped up off the chair and scurried over to Ben. He could barely manage a weak smile, so he tried to compensate with an overly bright "Hi!"

Ben sighed.

Michael asked quietly, "How much did you hear?"

"All of it. Every word."

Michael squeaked, "I can explain. You see …"

Ben rubbed his hand over his face. "Stop. Just stop. I'm done."

"Wait, what?"

"I thought I knew who you were. I didn't."

Ben walked away. Quickly. He could hear Michael's voice, panicked and desperate, calling him back. Over and over. He kept walking.