A/N: Please do share your thoughts. But be gentle. I promise I'll get B/J back to exclusivity as soon as possible.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" I looked around in disgust. Brandon had walked into the diner that morning and declared that I needed a wingman. He said I should take an hour for lunch. That he had thought of the perfect place for me to meet guys. Thank the universe, he'd come late, and I was the only one still there. I met him at the park. Then he had proceeded to take me to the fucking mall. We were currently in the food court.

Brandon bumped his shoulder into mine playfully. "You and I jumped from child to adult a long time ago and pretty quickly, skipping adolescence entirely, so I'm no expert, but it is my understanding that young people often engage in a strange behavior they call 'hanging at the mall.' Therefore, logic dictates that if you are looking for someone your own age to date, a mall might be a good first step."

I frowned. "Whatever." I looked around. Herds of badly dressed people meandered through and around the tables and chairs. Neoprene. Polyester. Jersey. I made a face.

Brandon laughed. "Stop hating."

I scoffed, "Look at them! Don't they have a decent tailor? Their pants are hanging off of them in every conceivably unflattering way." I pointed in different directions "… too tight at the waist. Nice stomach roll … hanging off the ass. Nice tighty whiteys … too loose in the thighs. Do you have sausages for legs?" I shrugged comically. "How can I tell? And for fuck's sake, sweat pants are for the gym. And NOT those. NEVER those. My grandma wears those to the supermarket."

Brandon shook his head and sighed.

A small herd of goths heading toward Hot Topic surged past. I waved my hand helplessly. "Black eye makeup and lipstick just slathered on. Don't they have access to mirrors? Random chains. Layers. And the shirts. They're shapeless sacks. I can't even ..." I turned away in horror.

"I guess we should have tried hanging at the Armani Exchange. But you know, Justin wears some of this stuff …"

"Well … what he lacks in fashion sense he makes up for in … you know … personality or whatever."

Brandon chuckled. "Is that whatever his perfectly shaped ass?"

I shrugged and looked away. "Maybe."

"What about him?" Brandon pointed at a tall thin guy with brown blond hair. He was wearing John Lennon style sunglasses, with purple lenses, and a fedora.

"Huh."

His outfit was a loose interpretation of a suit. He had on a white long sleeved button down. It was form fitting and made out of a silk blend. Very expensive looking. He had four buttons undone, showing off his slight yet muscular body. He had on a tie, but it hung loose, and a suit jacket that looked almost metallic grey. He had paired all that with skinny jeans. He was definitely the hottest guy here. And apparently the only one besides me who knew how to dress.

I started moving in his direction, but then I stopped abruptly. I turned to Brandon. I was a little out of my element. "What do I say?"

Brandon laughed so hard he actually produced a few tears. "You're … you're asking the hustler? How about … Nice dick. Wanna fuck?" When Brandon could breathe again, he looked at me seriously and asked, both amusement and confusion evident In his voice, "Aren't you kind of an expert at this?"

" … if I want to fuck him in the bathroom. But I'm kind of trying to date …"

"Ah." Brandon pondered. After a minute of thought, he offered this nugget of insight: "Huh. I actually don't know. I've never 'dated' anyone, either. How about 'Hi. I like your hat'?"

I muttered, "Douche" and shoved Brandon lightly.

He laughed. "I'm actually a little serious. Clearly he cares how about how others perceive him. He's put A LOT of effort into looking amazing while also appearing not to have tried. And his style is unique. He wants attention while giving the impression that he couldn't care less. Make him feel special. Noticed."

I breathed out slowly. I could do that. I headed toward Fedora guy.

I was about five feet away when he spotted me. He looked me up and down. Good start. Clearly he was gay … well … or bi. And based on the soft smile that crept across his lips, I guessed he liked what he saw.

I smiled (not too brightly though – didn't want him to think I was weird or obvious) and said, "Hey." I purposely skipped my normal drawl (although that was a sacrifice – my sexy voice usually gave me an edge). I didn't want him to think I just wanted to fuck.

He smiled back. It was bright but not a Sunshine smile. Almost like a hybrid: half laugh, half smile. Hot.

I racked my brain for something smooth to say. Smooth but not sexual. Something to make him feel special …

"You don't belong here."

The guy looked surprised. Pleasantly surprised. Bingo. He quirked an eyebrow.

"You actually know how to dress."

The guy laughed. His laugh was, well, not like Justin's. Not musical. But nice. Soft and rough at the same time. I found myself smiling.

The guy grew more serious suddenly. He stepped closer, maybe two inches away from me, and said in a husky half whisper, "So glad I make the cut. I'm Wren. You are?"

"Brian. Ren like 'Ren and Stimpy' Ren?"

Another soft-rough laugh. "With a 'w.' Like the bird."

"Ah."

"So Brian, you look sexy-serious …"

My eyes narrowed a tiny bit, demonstrating my confusion.

"Are you a lawyer? And is that Armani? Good fit." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I laughed, but I felt a twinge. I was wearing Justin's suit (that's how I thought of it in my head – it was the one he'd given me). I shook my head. "Not yet. Currently a paralegal and a law student."

Wren bit his lip. Alright. That was hot.

"My band is playing tonight at Sammy's. I'd love it if you came. I'll save you a table in front. Bring your friend."

Hmmm. If he knew about Brandon, he must have noticed me before I approached.

"Sure. Wait, what kind of music?"

Wren laughed again. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes like he was thinking. "Mmmm … Blues-y jazz with a hint of funk?"

I nodded. "Doesn't sound too bad."

Another laugh. "I gotta bounce. But I'm looking forward to seeing you again." He took my hand in both of his and squeezed gently. As he passed, he slapped my ass. I actually jumped. He looked back at me and laughed. Then he winked. As he sauntered off, I shook my head. What the hell was I doing?

Brandon gave me a double thumbs up. Mel was gonna be pissed that I had a date. Maybe I could push dinner and just take a long one. Then I wouldn't have to tell her anything.

Unfortunately for me … or so I thought at the time … Justin decided he wanted to BRING me dinner that evening. AND he brought Thai. It was a sweet gesture and normally would have made a train wreck of a workday bearable (I was having zero luck scouring the case law, and my superiors were getting more and more impatient by the hour. They didn't care how I did it or what it cost me. They just wanted results.)

Justin swept into the office library breezily, as usual. He was smiling. "Hey, Brian! I thought you might be hungry." He sat down and started pulling out plastic containers.

I rubbed my hand over my face. "Justin … now's not a good time."

Justin froze. "What? Why?"

I sighed. I really, really, really didn't want to tell Justin this, but I was the one who'd said we should be honest. "I have kind of a date. I was going to sneak away for a couple of hours."

Fuck.

The look in his eyes … His face lost all color. But all he said was "Oh. Cool. Where are you going?"

"To some bar he's playing at."

Justin's eyes widened. "He's a musician?"

I nodded.

"Wow. Musicians are hot." Justin smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Don't let me keep you …" He repacked the food and stood up.

I wanted to say something, but nothing I could say would make this less painful. Or … maybe I could …

I deadpanned, "He's fat."

Justin turned back. "What?"

I nodded in a comically serious way. "Fat. And hideous. Totally unfuckable."

Justin laughed. His musical laugh. Just hearing it made me feel … I don't even know. Warm?

"Brian, don't lie. I'm sure he's hot."

Justin had given me a momentary reprieve (stopped leaving), and I was taking it. I walked around the table, took the food out of his hands and set it down, and then pulled him into my arms. I lifted his chin with a finger (he was purposely NOT looking at me) and looked into his eyes. "I love you, Sunshine." Then I kissed him.

I meant it to be fairly chaste (it was still early enough that many of the partners were still there), but Justin rubbed up against me, more specifically my dick, which caused me to moan softly and open my mouth. He took that opportunity to thrust his tongue into my mouth. I groaned and almost involuntarily slid my hands into his hair and tilted his head, pushing him up against the doorjamb as I kissed him more deeply.

Fuck.

I broke away and looked at Justin, all flushed and panting. Took all of three seconds before I was dragging him into the copier room and locking the door.

Justin was half-naked with his chest pressed up against the other side of the door before I had my next conscious thought. I stopped. And sighed deeply.

"Brian, what's wrong?" Confusion. Surprise.

I growled, "I'm not doing this." I pulled Justin's jeans and boxer briefs back up, kissed him on the cheek, and backed away, ultimately leaning up against the copier. My pants were still undone but on.

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "I just don't want to fuck you in a copier room."

"But you'd fuck the other guy in a copier room?" Justin was jealous. Actually, that probably explained the rubbing and the kissing as well.

I shrugged. "If I were planning to fuck him at all … yes I probably would." There you have it, Justin, Brian in a nutshell.

"Fuck you, Brian!" Great. Now he was hurt and pissed. Didn't he get it? What I was trying to shield him from? The part of me I was trying to hide?

Justin was fumbling with the lock on the door.

But maybe that's exactly what he needed to see. Just as he got the door open, I was behind him. I shut it. Hard.

Justin wheeled around. More shock.

My voice got scary, even to me. "You just want to get off?" I looked into Justin's eyes. They answered my question. And a question I hadn't asked. My eyes must have gotten cold because Justin seemed thrown, maybe even afraid.

But he had to see for himself, so I drawled, "No …" I smiled seductively and pushed my groin up against his. "… you want to get ME off." I smiled my sultriest smile and shrugged. I lilted, "Okay." Then I yanked down my already unbuttoned and unzipped pants and my boxer briefs, grabbed Justin by the shoulders, and shoved him (not exactly gently) to his knees. Now my voice was cold. "So suck me off." I closed my eyes.

Justin looked up at me incredulously. I didn't see this look at first. I waited 10 or 15 seconds. When I didn't feel warm wetness engulfing my dick, I opened my eyes and glanced down.

My voice was still cold. Completely indifferent. "No?" I shrugged. "Whatever." I turned and started redressing. "You can find your way out, I hope."

When I turned around, I asked, in my most jerk-y voice, "Why are you still here?"

Justin's eyes were wide. He looked terrified and disgusted. "Brian, why are you acting like this?"

"That's how I treat tricks. Isn't that how you want me to treat you?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"If I fuck you here, now, this way, I'm treating you no different from the hundred others I fucked in backrooms, alleys, closets, bathrooms, truck stops, parks, parking lots, cars, abandoned buildings, elevators, locker rooms, and who the hell remembers where else. All I gave a crap about was getting off. And maybe seeing what I could get tricks to do. How many I could get to blow me … to bottom for me. That is of course when I was fucking for free. Before that all I cared about was cash, cold hard cash."

I knew my reaction was over the top, but I felt a little sick. This was why we needed to date other people. So Justin had a chance at normal. A chance to find someone "nice." I had never been nice. This moment was Exhibit A. Without even thinking I'd dragged Justin in here and pushed him up against a wall.

"Brian … I … don't know what to say."

I snapped, "Say you're worth more than 5 minutes in a fucking copy room!"

I groaned inwardly. This is NOT how I'd wanted to spend what little time I had with Justin that day. I pulled Justin into my arms. But I didn't know what to say. I had felt the same way when Justin tried to suck me off in the alley outside Babylon. Justin wasn't this person. And with him, I didn't want to be either. But I didn't know how to say that to him without going down a road I DID NOT want to go down.

"I'm sorry, Brian."

"Sorry is bullshit." That is … he'd done nothing wrong.

"I just …" His voice was shaking. I held him tighter.

"You wanted me all satisfied before my date so I'd be less likely to fuck him."

I could feel Justin nodding against my neck.

"I'm not going to fuck him. I'm going to watch his band play and maybe try to have a conversation with him. Remember, we're both supposed to be having new experiences. I've already fucked a few musicians in alleys behind bars and in filthy bathrooms."

Justin pulled away. His eyes met mine, and he gave me this serious look. "So should I be tricking then? I mean, if you want me to have new experiences."

Fuck no. Why not just stab me in the gut and leave me to die?

That's what I thought. What I actually said was … "If you want to you should."

Justin's eyes widened. "You're really okay with it?"

"None of what I just said included the phrase 'I'm really okay with it.'"

"Brian, I still don't get it. I'm jealous of this new guy. You're jealous of Ben."

I quirked an eyebrow. "When did I say that?"

Justin laughed. "The NSA caught your facial expressions on satellite. The secret is out. So why not just save ourselves the pain?"

"Try to relax and get to know Ben or whoever. Don't think about sex or the endgame. Just try to enjoy the conversation or whatever. And if you are attracted to one of them and really, really want to get physical, then do it." Then more lightly, I proffered this sage advice, "If you really aren't that into Ben, you could try the mall. That's where I met Wren."

Justin giggled. "His name is Ren? Like 'Ren and Stimpy' Ren?"

I shook my head. "Like the bird. With a 'w.'"

Justin abruptly took a step back. He must have just finished processing the entire sentence. He gave me a playful shove. "SHUT THE FRONT DOOR! Brian Fucking Kinney went to THE MALL? To pick up guys?"

I laughed and shrugged. "It worked."

I pulled Justin back into my arms. "If we end up staying together, maybe this will have been good for us." I narrowed my eyes, looked up, extended an arm skyward, and philosophized, "Maybe we'll grow as people and our love will … fuck if I know. You get the idea."

"Should we meet later and compare notes?"

I shrugged. "I'll be here until midnight at least. I'm sure Roy wouldn't mind more cookies."