Be My Downfall
(see chapt. 1 for warnings, disclaimer, etc.)
Author's Note : A huge, warm hug for everyone who gave me feedback. You guys are the best.
CHAPTER TWO
For the next couple of weeks, Brian submersed himself in one of the two things he knew best, his work - or, at the moment, his lack thereof. Even he couldn't afford to remain unemployed for long. He also submersed himself in large quantities of alcohol, for it seemed to do the trick better than tricks - so most nights it was just him, and his partner Jimmy Beam.
And I drank alone. Yeah, with nobody else....
If he couldn't get that fucking song out of his head, he'd....
He didn't know what he'd do. About anything. So, why not just lay here in bed, and drink some more - but he was not going to cry anymore like some little heartbroken fag. Why humiliate himself..it wouldn't take away the fact that...no, he wasn't going to think about that.
The fact that he was in love with Michael.
Had been since that breezy, sunny August day in 1984.
He didn't want to be in the Pitts anymore - or anywhere in the whole state, for that matter. Because that would mean seeing Michael. Or rather, Michael and Ben. The happy couple. It was exactly why he was not at Babylon at the moment, fucking his brains out as usual. They would be there. Michael would be there, glowing with a pure, utter contentment that Ben had put there. Not Brian.
He hadn't talked much with Michael since that day in the loft. Or, to be precise, he had avoided Michael. He knew he couldn't trust himself around him, that he might say something - or more dangerously - do something to fuck it up, which would only result in his and Michael's relationship getting fucked up. It was too late for those techniques - the ones he had so aptly displayed when Dr. Dave joined the show uninvited - because he knew Michael wouldn't run to him anymore. Wouldn't allow Brian to mess up what he'd created with Ben. Because he truly was in love with Ben.
Michael was never in love with David. Brian would have known if he was - and caught it, stopped it. Proceeded to wedge himself firmly between them, once and for all. So why hadn't he sensed it with Ben, and used the same methods he would have with Dave?
He'd been too busy creating the illusion that he was so hopelessly in love with Justin. And Justin had took every opportunity to proclaim their 'true love' to entirely the wrong people. They might have an 'open relationship', but the key was that 'open' did not include telling every Joe you know how perfect your relationship was. He knew there was a reason he'd told the little twat to spend the night at Daphe's.
Brian buried his head deeper into his pillow, wishing the bed would just swallow him up and end this self-induced torment. It dawned on him, just as a single, hot tear trailed down his cheek; that he hadn't cried since his father passed away.
He clutched the edge of the pillow tighter, his knuckles turning white. It had been Michael's shoulder that he'd cried on that night. Michael's warmth and strength that he'd clung to. Since he was 14, he had allowed himself to cry only in Michael's arms and presence - making this the first time he'd cried without him there to hold him, to soothe him as no one else could.
Another tear snaked from his eyes before he slowly closed them. Regret, longing, confusion, anger, fear, uncertainty - these were simply too many emotions to be feeling at once, especially for a man who believed that having no emotions was the best possible way to exist. Listen to me, he thought. I sound like fucking Yoda.
Brian felt a crisp tug on his heart as he thought of all the times he'd rejected Michael, turned him down, simply because Brian had allowed himself to lose his reality and find himself in a dream, giving Michael the wrong impression. Or the right one. Fuck if Brian knew right now. Because of his apparent lack of reason, nowadays, Michael pulled away even from lingering kisses. He thought Brian was playing with him, that he didn't truly love him. And even though Brian was entirely responsible for putting those very assumptions in Michael's head, he still felt a wave of poignant anger towards him, for ever even thinking that.
"Michael....why...?"
Brian winced at the hollow sound of his choked whisper. He really was a selfish prick. It was petulant, stupid, and childish to blame any of this on Michael. Just a few years ago, if Brian had wanted Michael, he would have unquestionably been his. But as Michael had said himself that chilly October day of mere weeks ago; they were both changing. Progressing.
In complete, opposite fucking directions.
Brian rolled over, still grasping the pillow to his body, imagining that it could be Michael instead of a sack full of feather's from a Goose's ass. His eyes were drawn against his will to the small, framed photo of himself and Michael that sat on his dresser. He rolled back over.
His mind played over that day - the day he realized Michael was no longer in love with him - for what seemed the zillionth time. That day had been the catalyst for his deeply hidden feelings. He remembered the way Michael had broke their kiss, stopped what Brian had so blatantly started. Remembered how he was to fucking scared to stop Michael from leaving the loft without saying what his heart was silently screaming but his mind was vehemently denying. He had even, to his waking horror, dreamed of that day every night since it happened; and it always ended the same. Michael hadn't broke the kiss, and he hadn't left the loft to return to Ben's arms. Or to arms other than Brian's. Ever again.
But that was only his dream.
And this was only his reality. A shitty one, to be sure.
Michael would be leaving for Massachusetts in a matter of days. He would be gone for three weeks...or so Brian had heard. Not that he'd talked to Michael any, and not that Michael hadn't tried to talk to him. He'd probably just figured that he was depressed over loosing his job, and from the possibility that Justin would be moving to LA for the Rage deal; and given Brian his space.
Wrong again, Mikey. Just like you were wrong that time you found me trying to kill myself.
He couldn't let Michael leave without saying something to him. It would hurt him, confuse him, and raise suspicions. Michael possessed a sixth sense about Brian, too.
So he would give his best friend a wedding gift - in full, unabashed, Brian Kinney fashion.
The next morning, Justin busted into the loft at full speed. Uninvited, of course. Grrreat. Just what Brian needed to assuage his massive hangover.
Justin took one look and his eyes widened.
"Christ! What happened to you?" At Brian's silence, he decided to just forget it. Wasn't important now anyways.
"Well, we finally came to a decision. I'm moving."
Brian didn't look up from his paperwork. Paperwork that involved selling the loft. "Where," he queried, his tone detached; and in Justin's opinion - quite rude. He rolled his eyes at Brian's feigned ignorance. He knew damn well 'where'. They'd talked about it, but now he knew for sure. Didn't he care? The love of his life was moving away. Shouldn't he have more to say about it than one fucking word? He crossed his arms in a pout, angling his hip in comically childish gesture.
"Somewhere larger than life, vast and surreal, where stars revolve around you and-"
"Uranus?"
"Better. Hollywood. One of us has to be in LA, to finish up the formalities of the deal, be available for various purposes, oversee some of the finer details - that sorta thing. Michael and I already know the plot we want, so there's really no reason for both of us to go. I figured I'm the best candidate, anyways."
At that, Brian did look up. It was more akin to a glare, however.
"Because he's getting married, I mean. He has a family to think about. Plus, from the schedule that Brett gave us, it looks like the dates are gonna conflict with his honeymoon."
"Going to Massachusetts to get married is not exactly a honeymoon."
"He told me they were staying in Boston for a few weeks, making a vacation out of it. Sounds like a 'honeymoon' to me."
"Whatever."
"But anyhow...any work or issue that needs to be discussed between us can be done over the phone, or the net. So on the 6th - I'm outta here. Michael will have been gone a week, so there's no way he could go. His trip with Ben is more important than getting rich and living in LA, obviously." Justin didn't try to hide his disagreement with Michael's decision.
Justin studied the man in front of him. He was no less of an enigma to him then the night they'd met. He didn't know whether to beat him at his own game, or stomp out of the loft in huff. He had a feeling he couldn't accomplish #1, and that #2 would accomplish nothing.
"You've been acting rather strange lately."
"Unemployment will do that to man." Brian allowed a sarcastic laugh to underline his words.
"You know, Brian....you could come with me. I bet there are hundreds of agencies in LA that would hire you in a heartbeat...I mean, you'd fit right in - living, working, fucking - in an environment like that. Think of all the hot men! Think of how rich I'm gonna be."
Yeah. At least that would relinquish Brian from the sugar daddy role. Big consolation.
"You already have several people who are interested in the loft...."
"Justin...I can't."
Brian couldn't look at the disappointment that crossed the young face. He'd dashed the poor kid's dreams with three words. Surely Justin hadn't thought, all this time, that Brian was planning to go with him?
"I'm sorry."
Justin was silent for several minutes, his face expressionless, but Brian knew the kind of damage he'd caused.
He was rather good at that, he thought, wincing at the desolation in Justin's eyes.
"Sure. I mean, it's not like I'm never coming back here. It's just temporary. I just thought that since you lost your job, put the loft up for sale, and because Michael-"
"Don't...Justin. Just don't." Brian stood up from the table, walking over to Justin.
"When I said I was sorry, I meant it. I don't hand those out lightly, you know."
Justin stared at the floor. Brian enveloped him in his arms, feeling like a total heel. Justin was selfish and over-confident to think that Brian could just pack up and go because he was, that Brian's life revolved around him. But Brian still felt responsible somehow, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that certain others would think so, too.
He couldn't wait for the flak he was going to get over this. When Debbie found out the first thing he was going to do was bolt the door.
Brian made sure his voice was gentle. "Now go. You've got plans to make. Hollywood's waiting."
Justin didn't smile, or say a single word as he exited the loft. Brian let out a breath de didn't know he'd been holding.
That hadn't been so bad.
He turned, surveying his loft, wondering how much longer it would be his. He didn't know what he was going to do, about the loft, his job....
All he knew was that tonight was the night. Enough sulking, enough moping....
Time to take what he wanted - needed. What was rightfully his.
It was a busy Friday night. Babylon was a myriad of sensual, writhing bodies that glistened with sweat and beckoned wanton temptations. Multi-colored flashes of light dazzled the eyes and quick, bass driven tunes fueled the adrenaline and resonated in one's ears to eventually create a rhythm, a balmy hum. A feast for the senses, the dance floor was flooded and the crowd was hot.
The group of friends gathered at the bar weren't interested in this, however. Not tonight. Tonight was about friendship, remembering, and celebrating a union which signified the merging of two lives as one.
And they were all certainly dressed for the occasion - particularly the most flamboyant of the group - Emmett Honeycutt. His motto for the night appeared to undeniably be along the lines of 'think pink'. Donned from head to toe in soft pink, he made quite the fashion statement, even more so when you took into consideration the attire of his body accessory, Ted Schdmit. Ted's attire was the polar opposite of his boyfriend's - a faded, button-up brown shirt, and faded, brown jeans reflected his personality and general mood for the evening. Emmett would be the first to admit that they definitely clashed.
Ben and Michael, on the other hand, fit together beautifully, in every possible form; from the way Michael melted into the crook of Ben's strong arm to the way their matching black jeans and tees displayed each of their eye-catching attributes. Needless to say, the couple drew more than a few wistful glances, and dozens of admiring ones.
Michael only wished that he felt as good as people kept telling him he looked. It was as if getting married suddenly made you the most cheerful, beautiful person in the world, even if you weren't exactly feeling that way. Or maybe it was because people knew why he was a little gloomy, and were choosing to ignore it, like always.
Brian had been avoiding him. He didn't return his calls and was always too busy for any plans he might suggest. The most he ever saw of him was during hurried breakfast's at the diner, or on the way out or in of Babylon, or at Woody's - but Brian was already on his way out before Michael could even approach him. All the times he had seen his friend long enough to examine him, what he saw - and what he didn't see - frightened him. Terribly.
It was obvious that Brian was taking his fall at the agency badly, coupled with the pending probability of Justin moving away. Two things Brian had found stable in his life were being yanked out from under him like a bathroom rug. Michael thought he was taking the fall on the ass pretty well actually, until these past few weeks.
He couldn't remember (well, he could, but the point was that it had been too long) the last time Brian had looked him directly in the eyes. Or wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Or given him a 'hello'/'bye' kiss. Michael missed them - missed all of it. He had wondered for a short time if he had done or said something to upset Brian, but further inspection had brought Michael to the conclusion that Brian was simply overwhelmed by the reality of losing both his job and Justin in a relatively small span of time. Brian didn't have a whole lot of reasons to stay in the Pitts, and that scared Michael shitless. He'd told him numerous times that he wasn't going anywhere, but then Michael thought of the ad for the loft and a terrible ache grew in the pit of his stomach. Brian had took him along to look at some apartments - nice ones, but smaller - a few months ago, but had shown no down-to-business interest.
Michael was eager to console Brian, to talk to him about it, but held back when Brian distanced himself. It wasn't Michael's place anymore, it was Justin's, he realized. He wouldn't barge in a la Debbie style, but he would be there immediately - the very second Brian said he needed him. It hurt, very, very, much, however, that Brian had evaded him thus far. As if he had took Michael's little 'moving on' speech far too seriously that day.
Right now, he had too many other things on his mind and too many people watching to overtly mull over Brian. Or exactly why that kiss of a few weeks ago in the loft had resurrected long-past Brian dreams. Nope, definitely not gonna think about that right now. He felt Ben's arm shift slightly around him and guilt immediately rushed through his body, causing him to grimace.
"You all right, baby?"
"Never been better." He leaned forward slightly on his toes and pressed a light kiss to Ben's lips.
"Gentleman - I propose a toast." Somehow, Emmett's clothes made his mimicked British accent extremely hilarious. His tone grew serious, and clearing his throat, he continued, raising his glass. "To my best friend, my confidant, and in many ways - the big brother I never had, Michael Novotny. And to his charming, loving boyfriend - soon-to-be husband - who I trust will give him the happiness he deserves; Ben Bruckner. Congratulations boys - here's to you. Cheers!"
Glasses were clinked, downed, and refilled.
"Thanks, Em." Michael extricated himself from Ben to give his friend a peck on the check. He didn't have to worry about showing how much Em's statement meant to him, everyone knew the two were like brothers.
"Don't mention it, sweetie. You know I had to get together a little somethin' for your last official trip to Babylon as a bachelor."
Michael laughed. "I'll still come here, you know. Not much will change."
"Honey - everything will change."
Before Michael could ask him how he would know, since he'd never been married, or just exactly what he meant, Emmett turned to drag a protesting Ted out onto the dance floor. He mouthed a 'help' in Michael's direction, who simply gave him a teasing little 'have fun!' wave.
Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, smoothed over his taut stomach.
"Mmmm...you are just too damn hot tonight. I have this overwhelming urge to get you home right now...." Ben buried his face in the curve of Michael's neck, leaving the invitation seductively open.
"I'd gladly oblige, but we just got here, and Emmett had planned for this to kind of be a 'boys night out' thing before we leave. For old times sake."
"I'm surprised you'd even consider it such...without Brian here."
Michael tensed. Surely to God his overactive imagination had just imagined the sarcastic lilt in Ben's tone when he'd said Brian's name. Of course he had - the notion was ridiculous. But no harm in making sure.
"True, it just doesn't seem like old times without Brian here to fuck the whole the place."
"So where is he tonight? Not like him to skip a Friday at Babylon."
See? There. He'd simply been imagining things. Weekly conversations with a famous Hollywood director could do that to the mind of a simple gay boy, he mused.
Michael shrugged. "Not sure. Just said he had plans tonight."
"He's not the only one who has plans..." Ben nipped lightly at Michael's neck, encouraging Michael to wriggle from his arms, turn to face him, and pull him backwards onto the dance floor with what could only be defined as a very sexy smirk. Was it strange that he didn't want Ben all over him whilst discussing Brian?
Thirty minutes of carefree, lighthearted dancing ensued. Michael would shift over to dance with Emmett (whom he loved to dance with, because he never felt self-conscious or silly...go figure), or Ted, leaving Ben to dance with a handful of pink Emmett. All in all, they had a great time, but for Michael, there was no way it could be just like old times without Brian there to dance with him, to proffer him a tab of E on the tip of his pink tongue. Ben had been right after all.
There was nothing wrong with him feeling that way, he told himself firmly. Brian and he had been coming to Babylon long before Michael had ever came with Ben, or even Ted and Emmett. He couldn't help it if Brian and Babylon where synonymous, and if when the former was missing from the latter, things just didn't feel right.
He forced himself to stop thinking about it and just dance, for Christ's sake. Brian wasn't even there, yet Michael felt suddenly, inexplicably consumed by him.
The gyrating sea that was Babylon's dance floor parted before its unofficial god. Brian Kinney stalked into Babylon, his stride purposeful, his gaze unsettling, striking a tangible mixture of fear and desire into the hearts of admiring twinks everywhere. It was a gaze most of them knew well : I'm not interested tonight. Fuck off.
Still, hands reached and petted, eyes roamed and devoured the lithe, sensual form. No harm in looking. It was obvious he thrived from the attention, the lustful gazes; the knowledge that he held complete power. Not much else was in his withering control at the moment. Wouldn't they all be aghast if they knew the truth.
But all was not lost. He was Brian Fucking Kinney, after all. And he was on a mission. He grinned widely when he spotted his target, but slipped fluidly over to the bar to subtly examine his prey. He didn't want to startle the delicate creature, but lure it too him. Force it to make the first move.
Damn. Michael looked hot tonight. Damn...
He always loved watching Michael dance, almost as much as dancing with him. He could go from completely, adorably goofy to innocently obscene in one minute flat - a fact that always wrecked havoc on his dick. Even more so from knowing that it was reciprocated - Michael loved watching him dance, too.
He continued to watch Emmett and Michael, both smiling, laughing. It was a heart-warming sight - even for a cold old bastard such as himself. He chuckled both from the image in front of him and from the memories it evoked. There had been a time, when Em and Michael had first met, that he had been extremely jealous. They had seemed to immediately click with one another, forming an easy bond that made Brian feel disturbingly threatened. Not in the way he had felt threatened by Dr. Dave, or any man that Michael had dated - but in the friendship way. Michael and Em held about as much sexual attraction for each other as Brian held for Smelly Melly.
He had been fairly hostile and jealous towards Em at first for the mere fact that Michael and he could be so free together - Em could touch, and give the occasional kiss, without his heart aching every time - like Brian's. There were those touches and kisses of Michael's that made Brian feel safe, loved, and cherished, and then there were those that caused the sexual tension to rise to near unbearable levels, that caused him to walk the fine line of fucking everything up. Em didn't have to worry about screwing up his and Michael's friendship - not in the way Brian did, that was damn sure.
After certain events, the jealously had quickly faded, and Brian slowly started to realize why Michael had befriended Emmett so easily. He considered Em a dear friend (though he'd be damned if he was going to admit it) thanks to Michael. Plus, Brian was comforted by the thought that should something happen to him, Michael was not friendless. He was far from friendless. Unlike himself, he thought wryly. Oh, Michael Novotny would never be friendless, he corrected himself - but there were very few he allowed such a closely bonded emotional relationship - Brian, Ted, and Emmett. Couldn't forget the Nutty Professor - yet he didn't quite qualify as a 'friend' in Brian's book of rules, however.
He sipped at his beer - didn't want to get drunk, not tonight - and watched Michael swivel his jean-clad hips to the beat. Had Brian been dancing with him, he would have put his hands on the slim hips, sinking into Michael's rhythm. Hah - that was a really dirty thought to be having about his best friend, he thought sarcastically. But things were different tonight.
Like a bug to a bright light, Michael's unconsciously seductive movements drawled the recipient of Brian's hate thoughts of the moment. Almost as if he was stealing Brian's current ponderings - and maliciously taunting him with them - Ben placed his hands on Michael's hips. It was all in his head, though - they still remained oblivious to his presence. With a scowl, Brian turned to lean on the bar.
He wasn't going to let it get to him. He tried repeating it like a mantra - nope, not working. Still wanted to waltz over and give the Professor a swift kick in the ass.
He needed Michael to come to him. He couldn't wait much longer, to look at his face, to hug him. Dammit - see me, Michael....see me, Michael. Come to me as you always do. I need you. More than I've ever needed you in my life.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the figure that had been tormenting him unknowingly for three weeks walk forward in his direction. Brian turned and presented the smile that always made Michael forget. About everyone but him.
Time for the games to begin.
Michael had finally been able to ignore that tingling Brian sensation and enjoy the moment, live in the now, as Ben would say. Laughing at some hilarious comment Em had just made, he felt Ben's hands brace his hips from behind. Removing his arms from Emmett's shoulders, he turned into Ben's muscular torso and leaned into the familiar body, returning his wide grin.
The grin grew wider when he spotted, over Ben's massive shoulder, an even more familiar body bent over the bar, nursing a beer and staring absently at the wall.
"Brian's here." Ben's smile shrunk a little at Michael's announcement.
Before Michael could notice, however, he removed himself from Ben and walked over to his best friend. He had to refrain himself from running.
Brian hadn't seen him yet, and Michael had no guess as to the kind of reception he would get. But he couldn't help himself from grinning like an idiot. Brian had decided to come after all.
Brian turned his head when Michael was halfway to him, meeting his eyes. The hazel depths were bright and clear, and Michael's heavy heart lifted at the sight. Any pain Brian bore had always been his, too. Brian proceeded to give him that beautiful smile that Michael saw far too rarely, the smile he liked to think was just for him.
Something had him in a good mood, he mused, when Brian held the smile longer than usual.
He launched himself onto Brian and wrapped his arms around his neck, Brian's scent engulfing him, mollifying him. He felt him squeeze him tightly, turning his head slightly into Michael's pale neck; and at that moment, everything was right with the world.
"Brian! I thought you had plans tonight?"
"I did. I do."
Michael ignored the customary crypticness; deciding it was best to just get to the point.
"Where's Justin?"
"With his cock up a tight ass - if he has any good sense."
The response was purely Brian, but the tone wasn't. He almost sounded like he didn't care. Michael felt a brief flicker of sympathy for his friend - he knew how it felt to have a relationship take a temporary trip down shit lane. Before Michael could gently ask what was wrong, Brian projected a wicked grin across Michael's shoulder. Michael turned to see who would be the lucky recipient of Brian's scathing remark, and saw Em, Ted and Ben heading towards them - with Emmett, in all his pink glory, strutting in the front.
"If it isn't the Pink Panther...dum...da... dum...dum dum.." Brian recited the Pink Panther theme dead-on and to the exact rhythm of Emmett's stride. It was all Michael could do not to piss his pants with laughter. Ted could barely restrain himself, if only because of Emmett's warning glance. Ben sort of stood to the side and sulked.
Brian only stopped humming when Emmett gave his shoulder a light, playful shove.
"Your just jealous because I possess a sense of fashion that you don't."
"And I thank the Good Lord every day," Brian said, throwing an arm over Michael's shoulders, the way he used to. Michael didn't realize a simple touch could feel so good. Brian was like his old self - except for the Justin remark.
They all had questions that they were itching to ask Brian - where have you been these past weeks? what are you going to do about your job? why are you clinging to Michael?(Ben's most prominent question at the moment) - but his calm, I'm fine-and-dandy demeanor was oddly unsettling to them, so they kept their mouths shut for the moment. Only Michael remained unnerved; he seemed relieved, in fact. But then, he knew Brian better than the three of them put together, so that was hardly an oddity.
"So what brings the Abominable Snowman out of his cave?" Emmett raised his beer to his lips, threading his arm through Ted's and leaning upon him slightly.
"The usual...I'm out of bones to gnaw on."
Ted cracked up. "You mean boners. What, Justin not sufficing?"
"Theodore, you wound me with your sharp wit. And not that it's any of your fucking business, but I'm looking for a different kind of fulfillment tonight."
"And we all know what you fulfill best."
"Jesus. Don't you all ever get tired of the sex cracks?" Michael's question was earnest, but it was met with snorts of laughter.
"See what I mean?" He spoke to no one in particular, laughing himself at how little he and his friends had really changed.
"Careful boys, Mikey has little virgin ears...Ben's waiting to deflower him on their wedding night. Right, Professor?"
Michael swatted Brian's cupped hands away from ears, giggling. "Fuck you!"
Brian ducked his head to whisper discreetly, but directly in Michael's ear, his voice a husky whisper. "Love to fuck you."
Michael stiffened, blushing furiously. Brian had not just said that to him, and continued on as if he'd said nothing. Michael suddenly felt suffocated, like the whole of Babylon was descending upon him. He had to get out from under scrutinizing eyes. Fast. And attempt to shuffle his badly disheveled brain back into some logical semblance.
"I gotta take a piss." Michael ducked out from under Brian's arm and set his beer on the bar, then looked over at Ben. "Be back in a sec." Ben, who had started a casual conversation with an older, flabbier type of man, just nodded sweetly, resuming his discussion - albeit hesitantly. He looked scared of the dude. Emmett didn't blame him, but wasn't about to come to the rescue, so he grabbed Ted's arm and dragged him back out onto the dance floor.
Brian had felt Michael's shudder, relished it. He'd seen Michael blush, feeling the heat of his frustration.
Making sure his three companions were still otherwise occupied, Brian fought his way through the oscillating mass of flesh that was Babylon's dance floor, and followed his best friend into the bathroom.
Tonight, Mikey, things are going to be different. No excuses, no apologies, no regrets....
Just you and me.
TBC................