"Well look at you. Don't you look fabulous!" Emmett said as Michael stepped out of the bedroom. He was dressed simply in a charcoal colored button-down shirt and a tie.

"I wore this to work last week and you didn't say anything then." Michael straightened his tie.

"Last week you weren't going to have dinner with a doctor." Emmett gently smacked Michael's hand down, fixing the tie himself.

"It's not too late," Michael fidgeted. I can still call David and cancel."

"And why would you want to do that?" Emmett said. "You were so excited earlier."

"I don't know..." Michael stepped back, beginning to pace. "This is his home, I mean... This means something, right? Is this a new level?"

"Honey, it's just dinner. It's not like he's asking you to marry him." Emmett ran his hand down, flattening Michael's tie. "There. Perfect. You don't want to be late."

"Emmett..."

"Hush, hush." Emmett said. "It's Friday night. Go have some fun."

"But..."

"Go." Emmett playfully scooted him towards the door. "Go have dinner with David. Have a good time."

"What about you guys?" Michael asked, standing outside the apartment.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about us. We will be fine. Now go." Michael hesitated. "Go," Emmett smiled.

Babylon. the hustle and bustle was the same as it had been every night, since the day the boys had first step foot inside. Ted and Emmett made their way up to the bar, backs leaning against it, staring out over the sea of faces on the dance floor.

Ted squinted his eyes a bit, straining to look. "Do you see what I don't see?" he asked Emmett.

"What don't you see?" Emmett said, trying to follow Ted's stare.

"Brian."

Emmett continued to look. "Yeah...well he's probably already in the backroom."

"I don't know anybody who can find somebody to fuck that quick."

"This isn't just anybody we're talking about." Emmett said looking over at Ted. "This is Brian Kinney."

"Right..." Ted said. "Right. Brian. Good point."

Silence. Thank God for Debbie, Brian thought. He had to stop to almost slap himself. He didn't know which was more unbelievable. Him thanking God for anything at all, or for him thanking God for Debbie. Debbie had taken care of him in some bad times, he thought so decided it harder to believe the former. Either way, thanks to Debbie taking Justin in, the kid was out of his hair. And that's exactly what Brian needed right now. To be alone. To think.

Brian sat back in the leather armchair in his loft, flipping through the TV channels. All that was on was a bunch of trash. Late night talk shows where the hosts would only prove to piss him off more, and reruns of daytime soap operas that had been interrupted by a special news report earlier that day. Hitting the cable movie stations, Brian leaned forward a bit, coming to a stop on a staple of his childhood.

Friday night I'm going nowhere
All the lights are changing green to red
Turning over TV stations
Situations running through my head

Brian smiled softly, placing the remote control down. Dirty Dancing. Damn, that Patrick Swayze was still hot. And he thought back. Back to when he and Michael were fourteen, sitting in the bedroom, gazing through the knockoff magazine that Debbie had brought home.

I carried a watermelon.' Brian smiled. That Baby, he thought. So naive, so innocent and flustered. Reminded him of Mikey. Well Mikey in a dress anyway. And she was so in love with Johnny. Enough to make a fool of herself with such a fucking obvious declaration like I carried a watermelon'.

Looking back through time
You know it's clear that I've been blind
I've been a fool
To open up my heart
To all that jealousy, that bitterness, that ridicule

Brian paused, thinking back again. He and Mikey had been paired to work on an English lit project. Brian was sitting in the library, completely unhappy to be there, but better he was there than at home with his father. He would never subject anyone to that kind of situation. And then in he came, little Michael Novotny, the cutest little kid that you'd ever seen in your life. Brian smiled at the memory. But what got him most was recalling the first words out of Michael's mouth. I brought you paper.' After a moment of silence and fumbling for the right words, it wasn't Hi Brian', or How are you?' It was I brought you paper.'

Talk about the obvious, Brian thought back. But with Dirty Dancing still playing on his TV screen, he stopped to think. There had been Michael, so innocent, so flustered so... in love. It was there from that very moment, Brian thought. A love that he himself had never showed Michael. Not in the way that his friend had wished at least. Brian instead had held it back. Masked it with rage, with jealousy. It was perfectly clear to him. Lindsay was right. And although Brian would never admit it out loud, she had hit the nail right on the head. He had been a self involved asshole, too blind to see what was right in front of him the whole time. Michael. The best friend that he would give his own life for. The best friend who had on an almost nightly basis would let Brian climb through the window to his bedroom and hold him, nursing the bruises left from his father. The best friend who had brought him paper.', who was had been too shy to tell Brian that he was in love with him. The best friend who Brian couldn't lose to David Cameron. David could never love Mikey the way that Brian did, with everything that he was. With everything that he ever was and ever would be.

Brian clicked the television off. Nobody could ever love Michael like that, Brian thought. Nobody but Brian himself.