Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.

Chapter Three

Will didn't get back to his apartment until almost ten a.m. the next day. As soon as he stepped through the door it hit him that he'd barely changed any aspect of the décor since Michael had moved out. He wondered if, at some subconscious level, he'd always been awaiting the reunion which had at last come to pass.

When he'd left, Michael had still been asleep. Will knew that he should that he should probably make himself breakfast before it was time for lunch, but first of all he wanted to change his clothes. Apart from the time he'd spent at Michael's apartment (for most of which he hadn't been wearing much at all) he'd been in the same outfit for over a day. Michael would have understood the threats the situation posed to the laundry cycle.

He opened the door to his bedroom and let out an involuntary scream (which anyone listening might have more aptly deemed a 'squeal') of surprise.

The object of his consternation stirred irritably. "Shut up. 'M asleep."

"I can see that," Will replied, quickly regaining his composure. "What I want to know is why you're asleep here and not in your own apartment. Or at least," he amended, "The apartment of some guy you met at Boy Barn last night."

Jack propped himself up on one elbow so that he was half-sitting. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Why are you here?" Will countered.

"Waiting for you to get back from your meeting, for lack of a better term for whatever it was you were really up to," Jack replied. "I figured we could maybe try to salvage the evening a little."

Will's anger immediately became deep guilt. "It's five past ten," he offered lamely. What on earth had made him snap like that? After all, it wasn't like it was the first time Jack had chosen to sleep over unannounced.

Jack was grinning. "Well, I see you've carried on your tradition of painting the town red. Staying out till ten! She's a rebel, ladies and gentlemen," he commented to the invisible audience who always seemed to be following him (or at least his ego) around.

"In the morning," Will added.

Jack's eyes widened. "Reese Witherspoon Phillipe, what happened to your three-date rule?" He thought for a moment. "Or have you seen this guy before and just omitted to tell me?"

That was an interesting question. "Somewhere in-between," Will replied. Still feeling guilty about standing Jack up (even though he hadn't known he was doing so at the time) he added, "How about I tell you over breakfast?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jack responded, brightening at the prospect of a meal he wasn't expected to prepare. "I'll have – "

"Cappuccino, oatmeal with strawberries – fresh strawberries," he added, before Jack could correct him, "And a regular bagel with reduced fat cheese. Do you really think I don't know you by now?"

"So quit holding out on me," Jack demanded fifteen minutes later. "Tell me everything."

Everything? That was a pretty tall order. He already knew most of it, and the rest was going to be difficult to explain.

"Well, I've known him for a while – "

"Stalling!"

"So what if I am?" Will replied, suddenly wondering if it was such a good idea to let Jack know right then.

"So I want to know what it is about this guy that you don't want me to find out." Jack paused. "Is he a convict?"

"No."

"A drag queen?"

"No!"

"A woman?"

"Hell, no!"

"So what is he?"

"He's…" Well, there weren't many things left that he could be, since Jack had already exhausted most of the possibilities. Will decided not to put it off any longer. After all, it wasn't as if he was ashamed, was it? "He's… Michael."

From the look on Jack's face, it was obvious that he'd drawn a blank. "Michael…" he mused aloud. "Don't tell me! I know this…" He frowned, deep in concentration.

Will rolled his eyes. "Michael, as in my ex Michael. Remember? I was with him seven years, we bought this apartment together… Ring any bells?"

Jacks paused with the mug of coffee halfway to his mouth. Will felt a sudden and incredible rush of affection towards his friend - with his blue eyes widened in shock and his mouth slightly open, he looked amazingly... sweet, really.

"Will," Jack said after a moment, setting the mug back down on the table and continuing to stare, "That's..."

"I know," Will grinned. "I couldn't believe it either. I mean, after all these years can you imagine that he still - "

"That's ridiculous!" Jack exclaimed. Will was completely caught off guard by this reaction. Jack had always seemed to like Michael well enough; as much as he could ever like someone who took Will's attention and monetary resources away from him, at any rate.

Will tried not to show his alarm. "Why is that ridiculous?" he asked, attempting to remain calm.

"Because..." Jack sighed and stood up, going over to the couch and sitting with his back to Will, as if he could no longer bear to look at him. "Because after everything he's done to you, all the lame excuses he made for just ditching you after all those years - how could you ever trust him again?"

Will sighed. "I suppose I can't expect you to understand," he said resignedly.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Jack asked, turning and glaring at Will.

"It means that you never stick around in a relationship long enough for trust to become an issue," Will replied, his tone cold.

They stared at each other for a moment, eyes locked, both silently reeling from the sudden turn the conversation had taken.

Jack stood up abruptly and headed for the door. "Okay," he said, "You're right, Will. I mean, how would I know if it's just that easy to fall for someone again after you've been over them for years? It's not like I know anything about being in love, is it?"

Will followed him out into the hallway that separated their apartments. "Jack, I'm sorry," he said, pleadingly. "I didn't mean to imply that you're a bad boyfriend – "

"Oh, please, like you've never told me that before."

"So what is the problem, then?"

Jack didn't reply as he pressed the elevator call button.

"Jack – "

"Michael is the problem, Will," Jack said, turning around to face his friend as the doors slid open, revealing the idling compartment. "God, I swear I'll never understand how you can want someone so much when all he ever does is hurt you."

"Why do you even care?" Will asked, almost shouting now. The door of apartment 9B opened slightly and Mr. Zamir's head appeared in the hallway.

Jack sighed and looked at the floor. "Because I hate the way he takes you for granted," he said quietly.

Will snorted. "As if you don't."

Jack looked up at Will with hurt and angry eyes which were brimming with tears. "I don't," he replied simply. He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby.

"Jack, where are you going?" Will asked, raising his voice slightly over the sound of the doors closing once more.

"Karen's," he replied. A second later the elevator began to descend.

Will stared at the closed doors for a second, wondering how breakfast with his best friend had turned into one of the most vicious arguments they'd ever engaged in.

"Fight with your boyfriend?" Mr. Zamir inquired from the doorway, startling Will out of his thoughts.

"He's not my boyfriend," Will replied defensively. "He never has been."

Mr. Zamir shrugged. "Could have fooled me," he said.

Will sighed. He started to go back to his apartment, then changed his mind and crossed the hall to Jack's. He opened the door of 9A and was for once pleased to see the cluttered mess that Jack was either disinclined to clean or simply unaware of. He mostly lived in his own head, anyway. Will sat down on the couch and started sifting through a pile of magazines, figuring he might as well tidy up a little. He knew he should probably call Michael and arrange to meet him somewhere, but right now he didn't really want anyone near him.

The main door was still open, but Will was too distracted to notice when Mr. Zamir picked up the newspaper that lay outside 9C's door and hurried back to his own apartment with it.