Firstly, and most importantly, THANK YOU (- notice it's a big thank you) to rickiebeaumont for giving me the idea for the first part of this fic. I think you suggested over a month ago but I used the idea and I hope it's how you wanted it to be!

Secondly, iiiiiiiiiit's RAGE! =O

What a great episode this was! The scene when they're just sat for hours in the diner is so awwwwww. It is the first time Brian says nothing when Michael calls Justin his boyfriend =D. We learn that Brian is jealous when Justin and Michael spend time together and not with him … Brian becomes his most asshole-ish and then his most brilliant. *sighs happily* Basically it makes me smile all the way through.

So, here are my ramblings…

The morning after Justin falls asleep when Brian's angling for a fuck

oOoOo

Brian was finishing his morning coffee when Justin padded into the kitchen.

"Morning," the blonde said anxiously. He had a feeling there'd be some anger today after last nights events; or lack of them. Brian nodded curtly but said nothing as he rinsed the mug under the tap and left it out on the counter so he, or more accurately Justin, could wash it up properly later.

"You're up early," Justin tried again.

"I'm going to the merry munchers' house. They're trying to refurbish they're attic and someone has to look after their son, probably indefinitely."

"Huh?"

"I've seen Lindsey with a power tool," Brian said with a bit of a smile as he slipped his jacket on and picked up his briefcase.

"Wait, you're going now? I thought you said you'd give me a lift to school."

"Change of plan," Brian shrugged. "You'll have to walk."

"Walk? It's miles."

"It's not that far just," he smiled and placed a gentle kiss on Justin's forehead, "don't fall asleep en route."

Justin closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. He hated when Brian was pissed at him. He'd always shroud his anger with compliments and kisses to the forehead or the cheek or that patch of skin behind his ear. He'd rather Brian just yelled at him and get it over with but that wasn't Brian's style. He never just came out and said anything, not I love you, not I'm pissed at you - he just, let you know.

Brian was already at the door when Justin said,

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Brian asked, turning around as though suddenly completely oblivious to any reason Justin might have to apologise.

"Last night. I was just really tired and…"

"I understand," Brian said calmly.

"You do?" Justin frowned because he hadn't really expected Brian to get this creative energy thing at all. He knew Brian was creative in his own way, he came up with endless ideas for advertising everyday but art, comics that was different and he was surprised someone as logical as Brian would get it.

"You used all your energy up with Michael and didn't have any left for me." Ah, thought Justin, that explained it then Brian didn't get it.

"It's not like that," Justin tried to explain.

"Rage," Brian said to no one, moving his arm across the air in front of him as though pointing to a wide landscape. "Sunshine and Mikey's excellent adventure."

"Are you," he couldn't believe he was going to ask this, "jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Brian snapped, pulling his arm to his side abruptly as though trying to destroy the imaginary sign he'd created.

"You're really moody," Justin frowned.

"It's what happens when I don't get my nightly fuck." And then, in the most sickly, sweetest tone he said, "have a nice day at school, Sunshine." He forced a somewhat twisted smile and turned to exit the flat. Just then, he spotted the preliminary sketches of Brian, Michael and Justin wearing ridiculous superhero outfits on his counter top. "Is this what you spent all night working on?" He asked, picking it up quickly and creasing the page a little.

"Yes," Justin groaned, ripping the drawing from Brian's hands and smoothing it out on the countertop. "Look, that's Rage," he pointed at the sketch of Brian, "that's Zephyr," his finger moved to Michael's sketched face "and the that's JT," he pointed to his own graphite alter-ego and smiled widely.

"No," Brian shook his head. "That's me, that's Michael and this squiggle here appears to be you. And for some reason," he chuckled bitterly "we all look like Emmett dressed us," and as after thought he added, "as twots" as though the whole rant hadn't been insulting enough.

"Brian," Justin frowned, snatching his sketch back and cradling to his chest like a baby. "These are the characters we've chosen."

"Hmm," Brian nodded, "and the story's about…"

"JT gets bashed and Rage saves him."

"Fantasy then," Brian growled and left without another word.

"I wanna talk about it," Justin chased him out of the door. "I can't just forget like you can," he called as the elevator took Brian downwards. "I need to talk about it," he whispered to anyone that would listen but as usual, there was no one.

As soon as he was out of sight, Brian sighed heavily. Brian couldn't forget, no matter what he'd let the kid think. It still occurred to him from time to time how close he was to causing the death of another human being and not just any human being, Justin. The lie was he hadn't saved Justin. He'd just watch the event unfold from his jeep, completely helpless and then he'd rung an ambulance. He was no hero and he hated that Justin and the rest of the world were trying to hail him as one. Only Jenifer had really understood but she'd forgiven him for the unforgivable too. And now Justin was bringing it all up again almost a year later and it was affecting Brian just like before. He couldn't forget but he wouldn't remember, so he did what he always did in these situations. He buried it deep in his subconscious and it was lost within him. He'd become brilliant at building up these walls around his heart and with every buried emotion being used as foundations the walls became just a little stronger. The problem with these thick wall now, however, was they weren't just keeping people out. There was one person who'd already breached the defence and was nestled safely in his heart and with the ever thickening walls, that person would never be able to escape his love. But Brian didn't know that yet … it wouldn't be long until he found out.

This is set earlier on the day that Brian comes home to find his loft littered with Rage, er, stuff.

oOoOo

Brian heard the phone ring but he chose to ignore it. He knew Justin would get it and bring it to him like he always did because Justin always answered the phone, even though it was never for him. It seemed the kid couldn't just let it ring itself out. Brian heard an abrupt click and the ringing stopped and then frowned when Justin didn't appear with the receiver in his hand. He waited for a short while. Sometimes, if Lindsey or Debbie were calling then Justin would have a chat first but when the younger man still didn't turn up with the phone, Brian went to find out what was keeping him.

He was shocked to find Justin deep in conversation.

"Who's that?" Brian asked in a way that was trying far to hard not to be interested.

"It's for me."

"What do you mean it's for you? It's never for you," Brian scowled and then it dawned on him. "Again?" he exclaimed.

"He's got some ideas for Rage and …"

"I really don't care," Brian shrugged beginning to walk away.

"It's not my fault," Justin cried, covering the end of the phone with his hand so that Michael wouldn't hear. "He won't leave me alone."

"Well then," Brian walked over and yanked the receiver from Justin's hand and said into it, "tell him to fuck off!" He handed the receiver back and forced a smile.

Justin placed the phone to his ear before relaying Michael's message of 'creativity doesn't punch a time clock' to his partner.

"Well," Brian seethed under an outer shell of cool, "tell Michael, soon he won't need creativity because I'll punch his goddamn time clock."

Justin couldn't help smile at that. "I'll, er, I'll let him know," he grinned.

"Okay," Brian said slowly. "Now," he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, "I'm going in to work and when I get back," he pointed purposefully at Justin, "I don't even wanna hear the word Rage, got it?"

"Sure," Justin nodded innocently before returning to his phone call.

By the time Brian got back, hearing the word Rage was the last of his problems. Finding his way to his bedroom was the first of them. Every fucking part of his flat was covered in paper, drawings, sketches, notes and ideas and the word that was quickly becoming the bane of his existence was glaring him in the face at every turn. He pushed through the first few sketches that were hanging from some kind of washing line contraption and stood all over the floor pictures only to find that this endless cesspit of Ragian shit continued throughout his entire home.

"Excuse me," he scorned, when he finally spotted the two men responsible for this mess, "but has anyone seen my fucking floor?"

We all know the rest... =D

WARNING: The future chapters may not be suitable for the weak stomached or the faint of heart - something horrible is going to happen and it's name is … Ian! Wait, sorry, Ethan. It's name is Ethan.