Choose
A/N: I'm sure I'll think of more to say, I be a chatty one! But right now I'm just going to thank any reviewers I get while I write this next chapter out. I think it'll be fun. I've been looking forward to it since the last chapter.
Enjoy!
~SL
Chapter Three
Ben didn't know what to do. Black material was fisted in his hands, unsure of what conclusion to draw from it. He remembered the shirt, did think much of it when Michael had come home in one of Brian's shirts (adorably rumpled in the oversized thing, thinking back on it) muttering something about wanting something clean to wear. He knew Michael had been hung over, among other things, but had he really been this blind?
The bed was still a mess, pillows tossed to the floor and the sheets peeled and thrown. In the mess, picking it up (he had assumed that Michael had fallen back asleep and woken up late to open the store), Ben had found the torn black shirt stuffed between the mattress and headboard. Tucked away for what reason? Had it always been there? And why the hell was it ripped?
God, that night was so long ago it was hard to remember everything exactly, but this was the shirt. The only other solid black shirt Michael owned was a long sleeve. And he hated wearing all black. He heard the front door open and shut downstairs, Hunter and Michael doing their usual banter back and forth.
"Ben?" Michael called up the stairs. He'd seen the bike when they gotten home. Michael and Hunter had stayed a little later at the comic shop so Michael could start teaching Hunter about inventory. Apparently, while Hunter didn't like the comics to a fanatical devotion like Michael, he liked the kids that came in and having something to do more than he let on.
Ben felt like he'd been caught red-handed. What did he do now? Talk to Michael about it? Was it anything to talk about? He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and felt rooted to the spot, shirt held tightly in his hands as he stared at it, listening to the footfalls come closer and closer to the door.
"You look like shit, Michael," Ben said calmly as he started blending his morning protein shake. Michael was slumped over the table, a haphazardly buttoned shirt draped over his frame, his hair looking worse than usual from the gel staying in overnight. Red rimmed eyes watched Ben intently despite the disheveled look and Michael winced as the blender roared.
Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter before hunching his shoulders again. "Yeah, thanks, honey." Like he hadn't walked by a mirror. The words were lost in the noise of the blender and when it stopped, Michael closed his eyes in brief relief until Ben started coming towards him from the kitchen, cup in hand.
"I told you not to go out," he said, sitting down almost primly across from Michael, 'I told you so' all about his demeanor.
"I don't care," Michael sighed, crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on them. "I had fun."
"Yeah, I bet. I had a nice, quiet dinner at home," Ben commented conversationally as he opened the morning paper. "Alone."
"I've been doing the same thing for almost a week, I know what its like," Michael mumbled, not lifting his head.
"Gonna hold me to that for the rest of my life, aren't you?"
"You decided to stick with me for the rest of our lives, so yeah, why not?"
Ben sighed, setting the glass down on the table, paper rustling in his hands. "Going to work today?"
"Probably later. I think I need a nap."
"I think you need rehab."
Michael's head shot up. "What the fuck are you talking about? I drank when I went out after a week and now I need rehab?"
"For Brian."
"I don't think they have centers for that and I'd appreciate it if you fucking looked at me when you decide to insult me, goddamnit!" Michael stood up quickly, slamming his hands down on the table to steady himself. Headrush. "Nn. I don't need this from you, or anyone, today. Go to work already."
"Mature," Ben commented coolly, finishing the shake and getting up to put the glass in the sink. "You know, Mike, if you ever wanted to leave… just tell me. A little advance warning so I'm not left trying to figure it out."
"Ben?" The door opened and Michael poked his head in. "Ben, hey, c'mon! Hunter suggested we go out for pizza and a movie. We haven't done that in forever."
"Michael, what is this?" Ben held up the shirt with one hand and waved the other to mention the room in its state of disarray. Michael leaned against the doorframe and looked down at the floor quickly.
Michael shrugged. "I just… I was a little cranky this morning. I meant to clean it up before I left, but I got caught up with Hunter and-"
"And this?" Ben held up the tattered shirt.
Michael squinted and walked closer, taking the material from Ben. "Oh, hey, that's my shirt. Aw, shit, it's ruined, Ben. Where'd you find it?"
Ben watched Michael closely before carefully telling him it was stuffed between the bed and headboard and what, oh what, could it possibly be doing there? Michael shuffled his feet, his grip tightening on the shirt as he avoided Ben's gaze.
"You know the last time I-"
"Yo, dudes," Hunter popped into the room. "Pizza and a movie, remember? There's a ten o'clock showing of that new superhero movie, Michael. We've got enough time to eat if we leave now, otherwise we should just hit the eight o'clock and pig out at the concession stand."
Hunter looked impatiently and expectantly at Ben and Michael. Michael finally met Ben's eyes and tossed the ruined shirt on the bed. Ben knew that look on his husband's face. It was the 'not in front of the children' look, like when Hunter had first moved in with them and Michael wanted to keep their sex life as private as possible.
"Alright, pal," Ben said, smiling as he absently twirled the silver band. "Let's all get out of here and try to get that pizza on time so we don't miss the movie, yeah?"
Hunter smiled and left the room, clomping back down the stairs and Michael let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Oh, God."
"I guess we'll have some things to talk about later?"
The front door shut and Michael let out a hoarse yell, wishing he had something to throw at the door. Was nothing fucking enough for this man? The rings, the wedding, getting his mother to fucking adore him, not just tolerate him! Getting this house and trying to adopt Hunter.
"Fuck you, Bruckner! Goddamn asshole, piece of shit, accusing bastard! How fucking dare he?!" Michael raged on, storming up the stairs. Hunter opened the door a crack to watch Michael breeze past, looking like shit warmed over twice and in for another round as he gestured wildly before going into his room.
Hunter dared to venture out of his room and peer around into Ben and Michael's room, watching the man struggle out of his borrowed shirt, throwing it to the ground in a huff. Michael's back was to Hunter and he heard a wet sniffle as Michael went back and picked the shirt up off the floor, hugging it to himself as he sat on the edge of the bed, unawares he was being watched.
"What the fuck is happening?" Michael muttered, face buried in the shirt. All Hunter could see where bare, shaking shoulders and for once, he wasn't worried about himself and what might happen. He liked Michael and Ben, he wasn't sure if it was love (he wasn't sure about much), but this fighting thing wasn't going to end well.
Hunter gently rapped on the doorframe. "Dude?"
Michael snapped his head up and looked over his shoulder. "Hey, kid. Did I wake you?"
"Uh, to say the least, man. It sounded like World War III is going to erupt," Hunter joked nervously, stepping into the bedroom. "Is… everything okay?"
"I don't know, Hunter," Michael said honestly, scrubbing a hand over his tired face. Ugh. He needed to shave. Michael patted the bed next to him, offering the spot if Hunter wanted to sit. "Couples go through bad times, no one's perfect, but Ben and I… we just seem to be rubbing each other the wrong way more and more. Fight, make up, fight, make up! On and fucking on with no end in sight."
Hunter tentatively sat down on the bed. "What do you think the problem is?"
"I think I want something Ben can't give me at the moment."
"And what does Ben think?"
"He thinks I'm still in love with Brian. Because that's everyone's answer to everything about me!" Michael threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "Brian is my problem. Brian, Brian, Brian. Ma says Brian is my problem, Ted and Emmett say he's my problem, Ben, probably you too if you'd been around long enough. Hell, even Brian thinks he's my problem sometimes."
"Uh, dude?"
"Hm?"
"Maybe Brian really is the problem."
"Aw, man," Hunter exclaimed as the trio exited the theater into the night. "If they had actually made Rage into a movie, it would've been ten times better than that!"
Michael smiled wistfully. "If only, if only. But that movie was good entertainment."
"But?" Hunter looked at Michael expectantly.
"But, they didn't follow the comics at all! Continuity was completely tossed out the window along with anything that a diehard comic fan, which was probably their target audience, would have wanted to see! It was a massacre to the character, the story was crap and the only thing it had going for it was the explosions."
"Feel better?" Hunter asked, grinning as Michael smiled sheepishly.
Ben yawned into his hand. "I think it's about time we called it a night."
"Damn. I wanted to hit you guys up to go to the arcade," Hunter sighed, watching a gaggle of teens jog and shove their way past the exiting crowds.
"I dunno, pal," Ben said. "You worked today, didn't you? Which means you probably didn't get your homework done at all yet…"
"You know me so well."
Michael smiled. "C'mon, what's another hour?"
"Michael, we need to-" Ben stopped and looked over at Hunter. "Another time, pal, okay? Next weekend."
"Aw, but daaaaaaad," Hunter whined, Michael shoved him in the arm playfully.
"You heard the man," Michael snickered. "Besides, you really didn't do your homework."
"Are you spying on me now?"
"No, but I was the same kind of student you are."
"Which is what? Short?"
"Asshole!" Michael exclaimed. "No, I meant lazy. You keep putting it off and putting off telling yourself there's time to do it later until it's due and then, whoops! Still didn't do it."
"Michael's right, Hunter," Ben said, nodding as he took the parental stance in a firm voice. "You need to focus and put some effort into it. I mean, look at how you pulled your grades up last year. You're graduating this year, too. It's extremely important to keep your grades up now."
"I'm only going to community college, dude," Hunter tried to brush it off.
Ben wrapped and arm around Michael's shoulders, the first time they had touched all night. "And there's nothing wrong with that, but it's still important to do well because we want you to bring your grades up to get into whatever school you want after that."
Michael's arm automatically went around Ben's waist. "He's right. You only do two years at community. To get the four year, you need to do your last two years at another school."
"What do I get after just the two?"
"Well, it's an Associate's Degree. It's better than just a high school diploma, but it depends on what you want to do with your life," Ben explained carefully. He wanted Hunter to go to college, to find out what he wanted to do. "Some things require more effort and you don't have to pick right away. You can take your time to find out."
"Any thought about your future at all?" Michael asked, agreeing with Ben. Sure, he'd gotten extremely lucky in his life, but not right away.
Hunter debated on a joke or the truth and went with both. "Well, seeing as I'm now from a family of writers, why not be a writer?"
"I'm going to regret asking this, but what the hell do you mean by that?" Michael asked, too tired to put up much of a fight after exhausting himself on Ben.
Hunter shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I mean it's one of those things, y'know? If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck… it must be a duck! In your case, if it causes trouble and it looks like trouble… It's probably Brian."
Michael laughed. He didn't know what else to do. "That is… so stupid. I'm sorry, it's just that now all I can picture is a duck in a leather jacket and sunglass trying to stand all… I dunno how you put it. Defiant? Like Brian does. And it's just so stupid."
Hunter tried to picture the same thing and he was laughing with Michael soon enough. It was stupid. He figured all this fighting going on was stupid, too, but saying that might be crossing a line. It was better to have Michael laughing than pissed off. Although, when he was pissed off, it was kind of funny, too.
"Dude, maybe you need to talk to Ben," Hunter offered when the laughter subsided. "Or work out a schedule with Brian, y'know? Hangout time, husband time."
Michael sighed, but it did sound like a better idea than anything he had. Wait, why did he have to split his time? Ben was his husband and Brian was his friend, despite what had happened… and how sore he was from it. This shouldn't be a problem.
"It's an idea," Michael said with a small smile. "Thanks, Hunter. Going out with Katie today?"
"Duh," he replied, getting up off the bed. "She wants to meet you guys soon. Can you two be normal in a few weeks for dinner?"
"Is that a parent joke, gay joke or fighting joke?" Michael asked with a tired smile.
"All three."
"We'll see."
The walk home hadn't been eventful, even with Hunter pulling his usual antics ranging from girls, to movies, dirty jokes and then some. He was a good kid for it because Michael knew that Hunter had been noticing the issues between him and Ben for awhile now. He was trying to keep the peace in his own way. Maybe because he had seen his share of fighting between parents in his lifetime, it was probably coming from a deep rooted fear of being left out on the streets again.
Oh, shit, and hadn't Michael been thinking earlier that it would be easier for him if Ben would just take Hunter so he could start off fresh with Brian? He was starting to fear that he wasn't really going to be fit to be a father for JR in the long run. Sure, it was easy now with the girls having her in another country, watching her grow up from pictures and phone calls, but actually being there? When he wanted to dump his son with his husband and go off with the 'other man' without any attachments. He was shit and he knew it.
And tonight, now, when they had gotten home and sat Hunter down at the table to do his homework, both he and Ben had quietly gone up the stairs, Michael behind Ben looking like a sullen child that knew he was going to get a talking to. He didn't want to do this, it was bad enough he played dumb earlier about the shirt, because he'd have to confess to that too.
Then again, Ben didn't have any solid proof against him. It was a ripped shirt and a messy bed. A shirt he hadn't worn in a year and one day of a messy bed. He could stick with his story. There was no other proof, anything except his outburst of misery, but that could just be added to stress, remembering something last minute?
He was still trying to figure it out when they had reached the bedroom. Ben was waiting for Michael to come in and join him, the room still disheveled. When Michael joined Ben, he shut the door quietly behind Michael, who had started to pick up the tossed bedding and rearrange the bed. As if that would put everything back in order.
"Good night out, wasn't it?" Michael asked, trying to make light conversation.
Ben took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. "Late night, but I think we're closer to getting Hunter on the right track for school. That's good."
"I don't think he'd want to disappoint us, but he is a slacker. It's an easy choice to make, but hard to keep your word on," Michael informed, snapping the comforter up in the air and smoothed it out as it rumpled across the bed.
Ben smiled slightly. "Speaking from experience?"
"God, you have no idea how many times I knew I could get an A in a class and just how badly I wanted to but it was just so much easier to break the resolve and watch cartoons instead."
"Couldn't miss the new thrilling episode, though."
Michael smiled wanly. "Sometimes I would use that to convince myself."
Ben smiled and came around to the opposite end of the bed to help Michael spread the sheets neatly, tucking in corners and adjusting pillows Michael tossed to his side. When they were done, Ben stood up straight and leaned back to stretch as Michael shifted uncomfortably as he had picked the torn shirt up off the floor. They had left it on the bed when they went out for the night and Michael needed to toss it aside to make the bed.
Ben eyed it up before choosing to speak. "The last time I remember you wearing that shirt was probably a year ago."
"Yeah, went out with Brian that night," Michael said quietly, carefully.
"How did it get destroyed?"
"That night was so long ago, Ben…"
"You came home wearing one of Brian's. I remember that."
"I guess maybe someone at the club? Or Brian and I got into like, a wrestling match or something. We were kinda fucked up," Michael confessed. 'Wrestling match' was as close to 'fucked my best friend' as he would get until the beans really had to be spilt. In a way it had been a wrestling match.
Michael had been 'accidentally' forgetting his phone the rest of the day. It was the weekend, so he had spent some of it watching TV with Hunter and they had eventually gone out, hitting up the diner for a brunch sort of thing. Surprisingly, they ran into Ted and Emmett along with Debbie.
"Hey guys," Michael said, sliding into the booth opposite them with Hunter following.
"Oh, honey, you just missed Brian. He was on a real tear this morning," Emmett told the two as Debbie came up and ruffled Hunter's hair affectionately as he tried to bat her hand away.
"What'll ya have?" Debbie asked, cracking her gum.
"Waffles," Hunter said. "And… bacon. Instead of toast, more bacon."
"You're gonna have a heart attack at twenty," Michael laughed. "But I'll have the same thing, but with toast, Ma."
"Shit, you boys don't get enough meat at home with Ben's little veggie regime. Well, Hunter doesn't anyway," Debbie laughed, writing it down.
"Oh, and orange juice for us," Michael added on, rolling his eyes as she made off. "So, back to Brian. What happened now?"
Ted wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking. "Dunno. He came in barking orders at Deb then couldn't wait around for his food and got a coffee to go and just hauled ass outta here."
"Said something to her about her 'good little Catholic boy' before he left, though," Emmett added on. "I think that was about the only time he graced the adoring public with maybe a smile."
Michael fought to keep himself from turning five shades of scarlet. That little prayer before bed stunt had been worth it, but he never wanted to hear 'good little Catholic boy' ever again if he could help it.
"What'd you do now, dude?" Hunter asked, snickering at the comment. "Brian's got you on his shit list."
"Far from it actually," Ted voiced, not looking up from the plate before him. "Like Emmett said, that was about the only thing that made him smile."
"Teddy even tried the usual back and forth with him and just, well, got shut down completely," Emmett threw in, fluttering his hands about. "Had his lil ole panties in a twist as Aunt Lula would say."
"We just went out last night," Michael shrugged, grateful when Debbie came back over for a little in between relief.
"What? You and Ben?" Debbie asked, smiling broadly. "Romantic night out?"
"Nah, Michael and Brian," Hunter corrected.
Debbie rolled her eyes. "You boys are too old to keep going out like you do."
"Which is another way of saying I spend too much time with Brian," Michael translated, resting his head in a hand.
"You're a grown married man, Michael," Debbie admonished, hands on hips. "You need the stability and less partying at your age."
"At my age?" Michael asked incredulous. Ted and Emmett kept their smiles hidden as they watched the two go at each other. Hunter was mildly amused, but his attention was waning. "Ma, I'm getting a little older, I'm not dead!"
"You will be if you keep running with Brian."
"Ted and Emmett still go out!"
"Do I look like Ted and Emmett's mother?" Debbie asked with a frown.
Michael sighed. "No, but you could just as well be. You take in every stray you find, so long as they're gay."
Debbie smacked Michael across the back of his head with the pad she used to take down orders with as the bell rang for their order. The diner was pretty quiet with it being after the morning rush and before lunch, just Debbie's back and forth with the cook and the occasional customer besides them. Michael received a cool silence as his and Hunter's orders were placed in front of them. Great, one more person pissed at him today.
"Anyone hear from Justin lately?" Michael asked out of the blue. "Could be why Brian dragged me out last night, why he's all sunshine and rainbows this morning."
Emmett sigh thinking about Justin. Poor kid (because none of them could think of him as anything more than a kid) had a hard start to adulthood. "An email a week or so ago. He's having his first show! Well, his first professional all about him show."
"He should love it then. All eyes on him," Michael said thinly as he reached for the syrup and passed it between himself and Hunter.
With a mouthful already, Hunter spoke up. "I think he called."
"What?" Michael paused in getting a forkful of waffle to his mouth. "When?"
"I dunno," he shrugged and swallowed. "Few days back. He didn't mention he wanted you to call back, so it slipped this fragile little mind."
"Way to go, slugger," Ted commented unenthusiastically.
Emmett slapped Ted's arm gently. "Sweetie, it's alright that he called. Just call him back when you can and say things got busy."
"Nah, he's got the show coming up, I guess," Michael said contemplatively. "It can wait."
"I don't like him either," Hunter agreed carelessly.
"Did I say that?" Michael asked, getting annoyed.
"Nah, but you don't have to."
"Honey, Michael probably just has a little leftover jealousy," Emmett said gently in that southern voice. Ted snorted, finishing off his breakfast. "After all, Justin stole away his best friend for awhile."
"I was not jealous," Michael implored, finally taking a bite angrily.
"Sure, Michael. And I'm a walking representation of sex," Ted threw at him sarcastically.
"Uh, guys?" Hunter tried to interrupt, but was ignored.
"Ted, shut up," Michael spat. "Is it so wrong to want your best friend?"
The table went quiet as if trying to decide to make it a joke that wouldn't go over well or placate the man down as he stared at them almost wildly. They opted for murmurs of 'of course not' and 'perfectly acceptable, hon'. Michael went back to his breakfast deciding for everyone that they should change the topic.
It didn't work.
"So, who'd Brian pick up last night?" Ted asked, pushing the empty plate away.
Michael sighed. Why couldn't they think of something else? Michael didn't know how to answer for Brian. It would be out of character to say no one, it would be wrong to admit the truth and he didn't want lie and mention some faceless person. Michael was… perversely proud that it had been himself. If just for a night. He wanted to tell, ached for someone to know within the group and put to rest their constant, secret pity. Oh, he knew. How could he not know? Both he and Brian just chose to ignore it, and ignore what it was between themselves.
"I dunno," Michael shrugged. "We were fucked up" he turned to Hunter and said not to mention it to Ben, who just nodded and kept eating "and I don't remember him leaving me on the floor. We went to Pistols, the place really changed, and they don't have a backroom… but I was high, so I don't know. We went back to his place though at the end of the night and no one else went with us."
Emmett and Ted seemed to accept this. Blame it on the drugs, it was just that easy. Blame everything on the drugs and questions would stop. Could it really be so easy? Not one of them were thinking that maybe, possibly it had been Michael in Brian's bed last night? Was it really that easy to dismiss him?
The whole day went sour after the diner. When he and Hunter got back to the house, he left to meet up with Katie and Michael didn't care, waving him off from the couch, to which he had taken root with a beer in one hand and flipping channels with the other. This. Sucked.
"I figured you might've been," Ben said, sitting down on the bed. "It didn't seem like just hung over."
Michael still clung to the shirt, not sure what to do with it. Throw it out? He didn't want to. Sit on the bed with Ben? He didn't think he wanted to do that either. What was left? Stand there like a guilty moron, apparently.
"Yeah, well… I left angry that night. Had to let off a bit of steam."
Ben visibly hesitated, thinking hard and trying to decide if it was worth knowing the truth. "Anything happen at the club that night? The reason your shirt got ripped?"
Michael had been given a choice. They all included lying. He could make up a story about someone forceful trying to drag him off. Brian maybe got 'tired of waiting' (he was usually the one leaving everyone else waiting) and tugged him along. It was an old shirt, probably easy to tear, at least it had been.
"Not that I can remember," Michael finally answered, sitting on the bed, feeling the full weight of guilt over him. "But it was so long ago, Ben. Not that it would excuse anything, but… it was so long ago."
He just wanted Ben to drop it. He wanted the world back in order. Probably shouldn't've started this tangle of lies if he wanted that. Oh, and that sleeping with Brian thing on a regular basis. That probably wasn't a good way to keep up 'normal'.
Ben lounged fully on the made up bed, tired and looking forward to his day off tomorrow. "You're right. I'm sorry, I just thought… maybe-"
"Ben," Michael said firmly. "Don't."
"I'm sorry," he said again. "But… things have just been so off and then I came home to this…"
Michael smiled. "I know, but really, you don't think I'm so dumb I'd bring anyone back here if I was cheating, right?"
Ben chuckled a little as Michael's gut churned at another outright lie. "Not a conversation I want to be having, but… no. This is the bed we share. You wouldn't do that. I don't think either of us could."
Michael laid on the bed next to Ben, letting the shirt fall to the floor, forgotten now, and curled up next to his husband. His husband. The man he willingly chose to be with for the rest of his life. Start a family, leave behind a lot of things he thought he would never get, leave Liberty Ave for this man because he wanted a different life. Ben held onto him tightly feeling relieved. Michael didn't lie to him. Sometimes veiled the truth a bit, but always came out fully in the end. That's how it worked and he understood. He thought he understood Michael fairly well.
Michael was a beer away from drunk and probably needed to get to the store soon. He didn't want to go, but the thought of sobering up was worse than a stumbling walk to the store. In the short time Hunter had been gone, he had heard his phone upstairs go off about ten times. Sometimes a few calls right after the other, sometimes there was a wait in between.
Well, wasn't he Mr. Popular today?
Finally aggravating him enough to do something, he made his way upstairs and into the bedroom, snatching it up off the side table, just a second too late and he missed the call again. There were several voicemails that popped up as he ignored the list of missed calls and hit play to listen to them. The first was from Ben.
"Hey, baby, the class went on time" Michael snorted. He was 'baby' again "But I'm going to stick around and do some work on the book. I don't know when I'll be home, but I'll call around seven if I'm not leaving yet." Didn't they just have an argument about that? "I'll talk to you later. Love you."
"I'm sure you do," Michael snorted, hitting 7 to delete.
"Mikey, come out come out wherever you are," Brian's voice flowed. It sounded almost… predatory and Michael shivered inadvertently. "I think we need to talk, don't you? You're always the one who overanalyzes shit and after… uh, this, I can't get a hold of you? I figured you be riding my ass" there was a pause, either he thought to make a joke or was thinking about last night "either way, call me back."
Michael was tempted to save the message, but hit 7 again waiting for the next message.
"Michael," Brian said gruffly into his ear. Ooooh, he was pissed off. "This is bullshit. You think you're the only one who wants to hide away? I stopped in the diner and I… fuck, Michael. Will you… please, call me the fuck back? Sometime before I'm dead would be nice, asshole."
Michael giggled, brain buzzing from the beer and listening to Brian go bat shit crazy over Michael not being at his beck and call. He never knew it could be this fun to leave someone hanging. Hitting 7, he sat on the bed to listen to the next one.
"Would you even come to my fucking funeral?" Michael laughed loudly. What a fucking drama queen! "You're being a bitch and you know it. If you don't call me by four, I'm coming over to drag your ass out. We are going to talk about this whether you want to or not. Are you listening, Michael? I'm going to get you for this."
He hit 7 again, wondering what he was going to get and what for? For last night, which was not entirely his fault, for not answering his phone all day? Maybe for some unknown reason only Brian saw as an affront. He checked the clock, it was 3:30 now and one more voicemail. He smiled widely, thinking it was Brian again.
"Uh… hey," said Ben into his ear. "I guess you not calling back means you're still upset with me. Or maybe you're sleeping it off." His voice sounded tired with the last comment "I, uh… I don't want to fight anymore. Not today at least." Oh, like they could schedule a time for it, then? "I think, maybe, I'll spend a little more time here working and just… get a room or something for the night." Something in that didn't sound definite… like this may not be just a temporary one night thing… "Just… I love you, okay? I'm sorry for the last few weeks. Some cooling off would be good, I think. I love you."
"Maybe we should go on a vacation," Ben suggested lightly. "A weekend away or something small."
"You have classes on Saturday now," Michael reminded, hand running absently over Ben's clothed chest.
Ben put a hand over the one Michael was using, caressing it gently. "I can miss one class. Just let the students know and give them a little busy work."
"Or be a benevolent teacher and let them slack off for a weekend."
"Or be a benevolent teacher and let them slack off for a weekend," Ben chuckled, bringing the hand up to press a kiss to the palm.
Michael snapped the phone shut, angry at the voicemail. Spend the night in a room? Well, at least he knew where his own husband was. Must count for something. He was tempted to call Brian, rant and make him bring more beer over, but it was almost four. Brian said he'd show up at four if he didn't call back. Michael was more tempted to see if Brian would stick to his threat.
And, dare he admit it? On top of the nervousness and confusion… he was excited. And still fairly inebriated as he made his way back downstairs, on the couch in front of the TV with the last of his beers in hand, finishing it off slowly. He was watching the clock more than the TV and didn't think much of it.
Eventually, the doorbell went off and Michael debated on actually get up or not. It was easier to yell for whoever it was to come in than it was to get up off his ass and open the door. So he did just that. When nothing happened, he raised his voice even more and told them to come in. Still nothing.
"The fuck is this nonsense?" he muttered, managing his way to the door and opened it, Brian's sunglass hidden eyes staring (or maybe not, damn those fucking things) right at him.
"At least you waited until after noon to crack open the bottle," Brian commented, noting the empty one in Michael's hand.
"Yeah, well… shut up," was all Michael could come up with.
The corners of Brian's lips pulled up slightly. "Nice one, Mikey. As much as I love your drunken wit, sober it up. We need to talk."
"Oh no, are you pregnant?" Michael snorted, stepping back from the door and waving Brian in with the hand still holding the empty bottle.
"Yes, and it's not yours. I've been having an affair." Brian's tone was deadpanned during the delivery, slight smile falling away as he emphasized the last word.
Michael was tempted to slam the door in Brian's face. "No, no. Affair would insinuate I am having a constant relationship outside of my marriage. I had a mind altering substance driven one. Night. Stand."
Fuzzy around the edges though his words were, the last three were stated clearly and with precision. He would not let Brian hang this over his head. No one would believe him anyway, apparently. Michael wasn't someone you could apparently picture in Brian's bed. He frowned sourly as he wandered away from the door, letting Brian come in or not. It was up to him, but he needed to toss this bottle and get the very last one out of the fridge. Shit. He'd need to go to the store later or Ben would know he didn't go to work and sat around drinking all day. Oh, wait… Ben wasn't coming home tonight.
He missed the look on Brian's face. That borderline 'are you shitting me?' and 'I can strangle you and I will' look. The kind Michael knew because Brian's eyes went dead with just a glitter of power behind them. Something not unlike a wolf eyeing up its prey as it laid low to the ground. Not that he would've seen it with those sunglasses on. Brian had no choice but to enter as Michael (rudely) left him at the threshold and shut the door behind him.
"Did you bother opening the store today at all?" he asked calmly, trying to easy conversation.
"Do I look like I bothered opening the store today at all?" Michael shot back, shutting the fridge with a hip check.
Brian held his tongue. "Who the fuck are you and where is my best friend?" The hold didn't last, apparently.
"He's right here! He's just pissed the fuck off and trying to get drunk in peace!" Michael said, voice raised.
"Why?"
Michael snorted. "Pain management. Whatever."
"Feeling guilty?"
"Honestly? No. But that could be the alcohol talking. I'm just pissed."
Brian leaned up against the doorway, waiting for Michael to continue.
"It's just…" Michael slammed the bottle down on the counter to open it "Ben's staying at a motel or something tonight after yet another fight and Ted and Emmett don't seem to think I could ever get into your bed and Ma… well. You know Ma. She said I was getting old."
Brian playfully clutched at his chest. "Ah, the ultimate nutshot for a gay man. Age."
"Ted's older'n dirt," Michael muttered sullenly. "Don't see Ma telling him he can't go out anymore."
"Wait," Brian said, grinning. "Your mother actually told you, a full grown man, that you can't go out anymore?"
"With you, more or less," Michael clarified. "I can see why, especially after… whatever, but still! I'm not a child anymore!" He stomped his foot for dramatic effect that had Brian rolling his lips inward to hold in a laugh. Sure he wasn't. Mikey was a big boy, after all.
Well, an impressive one, either way.
"It might be nice," Michael agreed, wondering what fresh hell he'd just gotten himself into. He really didn't think a weekend away was going to fix anything. Still, maybe it would help matters. "What were you thinking?"
Ben hummed, thinking quietly. "Nothing special, honestly. Maybe just a weekend in a hotel. No computers, no phones… just us, for once."
"We pretty much have that now, honey," Michael said, trying to be thoughtful. "Hunter's old enough where he's almost never home it's just…"
"Us," Ben finished for him.
Michael nodded silently.
"I think that might be why we should. A little change of scenery, just us together without any interruptions," Ben explained, running his free hand up and down Michael's back.
"Well… maybe," Michael conceded. Really, the idea of being out of touch with Brian, leaving him with no options to get a hold of him might drive him off. Make Brian think that maybe Michael had made his choice. "But if I can get a promise from you?"
"Anything, baby," his husband said earnestly.
"Leave your book at home?"
"Are you done being a whiney bitch now?" Brian asked, done playing as nice as he could get.
Michael's eyes went wide. "Whiney bitch? Me? Oh, that's good coming from Mr. 'Would you even come to my funeral'! I don't pick up the phone for a few hours and you get your dick in a knot."
"Hell, Mikey, c'mon," Brian countered with, not liking to dwell on his own faults much. "I was just frustrated."
"Figured we took care of that last night."
Brian paused, unable to comprehend what that was supposed to mean. "What?"
"The way I see it" Michael stopped to take a drink "It was a right time, right place deal. Convenient for you, easy to give to me. I don't know what else there is to talk about. If you're thinking I've been sitting here bawling my eyes out over you or where my marriage is headed because of this, don't. I've just been drinking and watching cartoons, and you know why? Because I know it'll never happen again."
"Why not?"
"Cause, 'm married," Michael said simply. "Cause you have all of Liberty Ave eatin' out of your pants! Me? Hell, I'm an easy target at best for you. Best friend with the long time crush. Well, you know what? Can't tap the same ass twice. That's your own rule."
Can't tap the-? "Are you letting Hunter write all your drunken rants now?" It was all Brian could think to say, absolutely stunned.
Michael snorted. "Nah, just rubs off a bit."
"Well, don't ever use that term again," Brian said, almost cringing at it. Vulgar, that's what it was. Christ, was he getting old?
Michael finished a good amount in the bottle before flashing a smile. "Either way, nothing to talk about. One time thing. Your rule. The end, bye-bye, see you at breakfast tomorrow!"
"You know you were always my exception to the rules," Brian admitted quietly, flipping the sunglasses up on top of his head. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags were visible. Damn. Brian looked more like shit than he did, and Michael didn't handle the morning after too well.
"Yo!" Hunter said, popping his head in the bedroom. Michael and Ben looked at him expectantly. "Just wanted to say g'night… and I wouldn't mind spending a weekend with 'Granma'."
"You're a nosey little shit, you know that?" Michael asked with a tired smile, not lifting his head from Ben's chest.
"You love me, admit it," Hunter countered with, grinning.
"You know we do, pal," Ben said, smiling. "We haven't really decided yet, but we'll let you know what weekend, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Hunter said agreeably. "Think Deb'll mind if I-"
"Spend most of the weekend with Katie?" Michael finished. "Well, if we got used to missing your loving presence, I'm sure she will, too."
Ben laughed. "You two are worse than siblings sometimes."
"You love me, though," Michael offered playfully, smiling up at Ben.
Hunter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Enough love-fest. Night."
"Night, pal," Ben said and Michael intoned with the same.
Michael was getting tired. Today took way too much out of him. Too much lying. "He's a great kid."
"Yeah… another few months and we might really be his parents," Ben said thoughtfully.
"We aren't already?"
"Well, legally, I mean. I think we can both agree that we've been his parents for a long time now."
Michael closed his eyes. "Yeah."
"Brian," Michael said, because he had no idea what else to say.
Brian shrugged, trying to look indifferent. "Mikey."
"I'm-"
"Married, yes. I was your best man."
"It was-"
"The best fucking night of my life."
Stunned did not even begin to cover it. Michael stood there gaping like a fish out of water, arms sort of jerking time to time as if the hand motions wanted to start before the words did, but there were no words to say and so they stopped moving. What are you supposed to say to that?
"Brian."
"Mikey." Brian was still being defiant about it.
"Get out."
Michael was tired enough that when Hunter offered to open the store for him the next day, he let the kid go to town, grunting pitiful excuses for responses as he shuffled to the table and grabbed the cereal box. Ben smiled and leaned over to give him a quick kiss good morning, to which Michael smiled blearily at.
"Whatcha doin' today?" Michael asked Ben, pouring milk over the cereal. Hunter came back downstairs and asked Michael for the keys to the store. They made a trade as the store key was also kept on the ring that held Michael's house keys.
"Nothing," Ben said, glancing up from the paper. "You?"
Michael smiled shyly. "Nothin'."
"Wanna do nothing with me today?" Ben asked, folding up the finished paper and setting it aside.
Michael pretended to think about it. "Oh, I don't know… there's just so much nothing I have to do on my own…"
"I'll help you," Ben offered. "We'll get both our nothing done faster that way so we can do nothing together."
They looked at each other before they broke into peals of laughter that had Hunter staring at them like they each had two heads before making a show of cautiously backing towards the front door. This sent Ben and Michael into a new round of laughs as Hunter left. Hunter didn't know what was weirder, having them act like a normal cutesy married couple, or down each other's throats.
Brian's face was blank. He didn't know what to do, let alone say. Get out? Obviously that meant leave. Go home. Off the premises. His feet didn't seem to understand that at all. It was like he'd been hit with lightening and stuck to the ground where he stood. Michael wanted him out. Gone. Now. None of that made sense.
"Pretty and dumb," Michael laughed, pushing roughly past Brian to go back to the living room and sat himself back on the couch with some loud, brightly colored animation on TV.
Where the hell was this coming from? Why was… what the fuck?
"Mikey?" Brian finally found his voice, drifting over to the general area of the living room.
"Why are you still fucking here?" Michael bit out harshly, not turning to look at Brian. "Get out. Go home. Sleep off whatever the hell you're on, because you're not Brian right now."
"Why?"
"Because Brian would not be over here-" Michael paused to think about his words "Well, first, Brian wouldn't've fucked me."
"Too late."
"Since he did, I'd bet my life that he wouldn't show up here the next day, sober, and make these off the wall confessions," he decided, much calmer now that he'd thought it out.
Brian thought about this. Michael did know him better than anyone, and he was right about this. Nothing about him suggested this was going to happen. That he was going to be here, dumbfounded that his best friend was going to kick him out because… well, why? Oh, because Brian had this overwhelming urge to rush over, see him again, talk to him and… then what? That wasn't important right now. What was important was to gain back lost ground.
"Alright, let's say, for the sake of argument," Brian said with a tight drawl on the words, trying to sound like he could care less. "I'm high as hell. What does it matter then? You're drunk."
Michael couldn't think of anything to counter with. "Yeah."
"So why should I leave? Aren't we always drunk and high together?"
"Yeah."
Brian huffed. "So why the fuck are you trying to get rid of me?"
"I don't wanna hear it," Michael admitted quietly, never taking his eyes off the screen in front of him.
Brian swelled a little with the knowledge that the conversation had officially tipped in his favor. There was a little swagger to the careful slow walk as he made his way towards Michael's back and placed his hands on the shoulders. Michael jumped, Brian smiled.
"Why not, Mikey?" he asked, playing concerned. "I mean, I'm only high, hypothetically. We both say stupid shit when we're fucked up."
"Because."
"Don't be like that," Brian chastised gently, leaning over so he could speak quietly right into Michael's ear. "I don't like when you hide things from me, you know that. Best friends, remember?"
Michael kept his eyes tightly shut. Brian was not supposed to be this close and he was not supposed to be this turned on by it.
"You need to go," Michael whispered hands curled tight around the bottle in his lap.
Brian clucked disapprovingly. "Nah, Mikey. I said we needed to talk, and we do."
"I said… I told you already."
"Did you mean it?"
"What?"
"When you made it sound I was like a complete bastard that wouldn't take you into consideration at all. Did you mean it?" Brian asked, hard edge to his voice.
Michael opened his eyes. Brian had no right to take that tone with him when all he did was speak the slurred truth about the matter. Wasn't it Brian's pride and joy to be a heartless bastard with little to no consideration to anyone, especially his best friend? Wasn't that just half the fucking joke? That Michael just took the abuse?
He pulled away, leaving Brian to lean against the back of the couch. "Why shouldn't I? You've never 'taken me into consideration' before."
"Bullshit," Brian said, calling his bluff. Where was the proof to that?
Michael scoffed. "Bullshit? How is it bullshit? I've never been in the running to be your bedmate before, but suddenly after all these years, after we fuck up and it happens, now I'm good enough? Now I'm enough to chase after like this?"
"Mikey-"
"No! No, you don't get it. I was over you," Michael spat, turning his body to look at Brian. "I. Was. Over. You."
"Was," Brian repeated slowly. "What happened?"
"You… You fucked me!" Michael sputtered. Did he forget already?
"No," then Brian paused. "Well, yeah, but that's not it, is it?"
"Will you get the fuck out of my house?" Michael asked, enraged. He was trying to keep hold of himself.
Brian shook his head and actually had the gall to walk around the couch and take a seat on it. Even prop his feet up on the little coffee table. Michael was erratic, but Brian could keep steady under pressure. He wouldn't've been able to hold his own in the Ad world without that skill.
"Listen, if you were over me," Brian rolled his eyes. "A little inconsequential fuck wouldn't've changed that. Maybe rethink your… living situation for a bit, but you wouldn't be this close to falling apart. So, tell me, Mikey, why aren't you over me now? You probably never were."
"You're an asshole!" Michael shouted, losing his grip. "You can't tell me that! You can't tell me that… that you liked it! You can't!"
"But I did," Brian countered calmly. "What's wrong with that?"
"You fuck once and that's it," his best friend said miserably. "You're not supposed to…"
"Have I ever done what I'm 'supposed' to, Mikey?"
Michael hesitated. "No. At least now how you should."
Brian waved a hand. "Neither here nor there. The point remains. You keep saying how I should be doing things, but I'm not doing them already. Why are we arguing?"
"Because you need to go home," Michael said blankly. "I… don't even know why you're here."
"To see you," Brian said simply. "My best friend."
"But you said…," Michael stopped, clearly confused as to what just happened.
"Said it was the best fucking night of my life," Brian clarified with a shrug. "I was telling the truth."
Michael was just lost. "You… what? Wait. What?"
"Well, like I said in the messages. We needed to talk and you're usually the one that overanalyzes these things. Figured you'd be off the wall by now."
He didn't have it in him to get angry anymore. Instead, Michael relaxed slightly into the couch as Brian stretched his arms over the back of it. There was a long period of silence where they both just stared at the TV. Michael finally set the bottle down on the table and cautiously curled into Brian's side. An arm fell protectively over him, and though he was bombarded with the events that transpired the night before, Michael felt relaxed. They were okay.
They were really okay.
"This is nice," Michael commented, laying in bed, curled up at Ben's side. "We haven't done this in a long time."
"Then just imagine a whole weekend of this," Ben said.
Michael smiled. "When you promise to leave your book home, I'll think about it."
"Baby," Ben sighed. "I need to work on it some time."
"Does it have to be when we're trying to…," Michael struggled for the right word and came up short. "I thought it was going to be about us."
"It is, but part of me is my work."
"Shouldn't you learn how to put it down, just for a few days?"
Ben didn't want to ruin the moment. They were both so comfortable with each other today. It hadn't been like this since they first decided to settle down and get serious. He needed his book though. He had to work on it, that's what he did. He was a damn writer. What if an idea hit him? If he didn't put it down, he might lose it and he preferred to keep everything in order in his writing, using the same notebook until it was full and moving on to the next until it was completed, each labeled neatly until it was time to type the manuscript up.
"Baby, please don't argue on this," he said finally. "If I'm missing a class I should at least get something done."
Michael stiffened next to Ben, imperceptibly pulling away. He didn't want to be chided and talked down to like a child that didn't understand why he couldn't have the cookie for dinner. Michael understood Ben's work just fine and encouraged it, but this was going to be- What? He had to finally admit it, to himself if no one else. This was probably going to be the last shot they had. He didn't know when or why he decided that, but Michael couldn't stand this anymore and was hoping that if they went through with this little vacation maybe they could work it out.
God, why couldn't they work it out?
Michael sat up and scooted off the bed, pulling together an outfit before leaving the room to head to the bathroom down the hall, leaving Ben frustrated at what just happened. They were just going in circles and it was getting past Ben's point of patient reserves.
"Well," Emmett said, announcing the arrival of Michael and Brian through the diner. "Look who's back in action!"
"Dynamic Duo," Michael smiled, sliding into the booth, Brian following after.
"Superman needs someone to save," Brian said blandly, looking over at the board near the counter for the specials.
Michael sighed. "Why am I always Lois Lane?"
It was a well oiled machine of teamwork to pull off this morning in the diner. Relying a lot on muscle memory and ingrained habit rather than acting on what was bubbling on the surface. Yesterday had come to an anticlimactic end with Brian leaving and Michael cooking for Ben and Hunter when they came home. They had decided without saying that they would never bring up that night again. For Michael, it was pure relief. It meant his mistake would fly under the radar. He still had Ben and Hunter and his best friend and that's what was important.
On the other side, Brian was mentally cursing himself as he left that day for going to Michael's, for thinking the way he had and being as insistent as he had about something Michael didn't want. Didn't want him, not anymore. Shit, was he expecting anything less? Michael got the ring and the kid and upstanding husband of the year, what was the best friend needed for?
A nudge in Brian's side tore his scathing look away from the board and the look softened a bit as he faced Ted and Emmett who were drowning the table in playful banter that was wearing thin on Brian's temper. He wanted to be angry at Michael, but they were better off this way, sweeping it under the rug. Still, the things they had said to each other the other day weighed heavily on him.
"So," Emmett finished his tale of last night's trick with a flourish. "I said to him, 'Honey, if the condom fits…' or doesn't in this case."
Ted and Michael were chuckling and Brian completely missed the entire story and why that was supposed to be funny, but he graced the table with a flicker of a smile. He started tapping his fingers restlessly on the table when he perked up at the next bout of conversation.
"I heard Justin is doing well," Ted commented, meaning to get Brian's attention.
Brian shifted and settled far back into the seat, the corners of his mouth pulled in a tight smile. "Well, when you learn from the best, Theodore, you've got no place to go but up."
"And on your back," Ted snorted.
"Honey, I think it's great Justin is doing so well," Emmett cooed, reaching over the table to pat one of Brian's hands. Brian just gave him a withering look.
"Deb!" Brian shouted at the redheaded woman flitting about the diner. "Can we get some fucking service over here?"
"You watch your goddamn mouth, Kinney," Debbie called back, barely glancing over her shoulder.
"Mikey, why can't your mom ever say she just hates me?" Brian asked, faking a hurt expression. Michael shoved him playfully.
"She doesn't hate you and you know it," Michael said. "But you really shouldn't curse her out when it's busy. You know that much."
"I'm fucking hungry," Brian griped, crossing his arms.
Ted rolled his eyes. "I think we all are, Brian. But you've got to cut Deb some slack, she practically runs the place by herself."
Ted annoyed him. Usually on a daily basis, but with the current mood and situation, Ted really annoyed him. "Yes, Theodore, how rude of me," Brian said, voice dripping with scathing sarcasm as he hoisted himself up and out of the booth and strolled over to the counter where he sat next to another patron. A guy, mid-twenties, Michael noted, struggling to understand what was going on with the dynamic here. He was blond, from the profile Michael could see when he turned to laugh at whatever Brian had said, Michael noticed there was an engaging smile on the man's face.
There was a brief moment of jealousy, a reminder of Justin and how badly things had gone after meeting him. Michael knew Brian's moves like the back of his hand. There was the raunchy greeting, no doubt. The way Brian turned his body towards the other man, receptive. The other man leaned forward, accepting the attention. They hit it off, Michael knew, and it irritated him.
"Michael? Michael?" Ted asked, leaning forward towards him across the table. Michael snapped his attention over to Ted, looking confused. "The guy isn't that hot."
"I'm sorry," Michael said, sparing one more glance towards Brian and his new friend.
"Sweetie, you can look all you want," Emmett said, brushing his hands through the air in a 'don't worry about it' gesture. "Just remember you've got that hot hunk of man back home."
Michael smiled weakly. Yeah. Ben.
"Seriously, Deb," Ted called out. "A little service would be nice!"
"I know that wouldn't be Ted," Deb shouted across the diner, hands on her hips. "Because Ted Schmidt wouldn't be talking to me like that!"
Ted ducked his head down. Emmett and Michael snickered into their hands and he wondered if Brian had looked over. Even passed him –them– a sparing thought.
"Why the fuck do you go to work on a fucking Sunday?" Michael yelled, busting into Brian's office. Brian looked up from his laptop unfazed. His eyes were hard and jaw set, he was in no mood for interruptions, even Cynthia was still home, but closely attached to her cell just in case. He didn't need to be bothered.
"It might be because I run a business," Brian said evenly, leaning back in his chair, letting the kinks out. The way he hunched over the small laptop was no good for his posture, he was sure.
Michael didn't falter in his anger. "Well some of us waited about half an hour at your fucking Loft thinking you were just fucking some trick or sleeping it off!"
"Sit down, Michael."
"No! You don't even get it, do you? I-"
"Michael, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up," Brian said, rising slowly from his seat, chair rolling back quietly. "I'm working, Michael. That thing you've been so conveniently avoiding at every chance?"
The shorter man huffed and threw himself into the overstuffed couch, crossing his arms petulantly. "Some of us need to take time off."
"And some of us have to fix what little hotshot pukes fuck up!" Brian barked, tossing printouts on his desk angrily. Michael started to get the gnawing edge of guilt, but he steeled himself. He didn't want it to edge its way into his anger. He wanted to be angry right now.
"Some of us don't have time to listen to bitching and moaning all day fucking long," Brian added, coming around the desk.
Michael bristled, leaning forward on the couch, glaring hard at Brian. "Bitching and moaning? Oh, well fucking excuse me! Not all of us can be power hungry assholes who don't have time for their best friends."
"Mikey-"
He stood up. "No, you know what? This was a bad idea. Just get back to work."
Unfortunately, heading for the door he'd come in from meant passing by Brian who grabbed Michael by his upper arm, wrenching him back. The movement switched their places and slammed the back of Michael's legs into the desk.
"Michael," Brian said, sounding like he was grinding his teeth.
"You're an asshole," Michael responded, locking eyes with Brian. He wasn't going to back away, his glare said as much. That's what Brian loved about Michael. Give him a good reason and he would stand up just as tall as the rest. Taller sometimes.
Brian grabbed Michael's other arm and squeezed tightly and holding before letting go. Like taking in and holding a calming breath before releasing it. He wasn't angry at Michael. He liked having his best friend around no matter the situation, even if it was during a time a duress and he was being an annoying little fuck…
"Michael," Brian said his name again, calmer. "Calm down."
Michael looked as though that was blasphemy. "No!"
"Calm down."
"You can't make me," Michael argued, struggling against Brian now.
Brian lowered his face until he was nose to nose with Michael. "You are acting like a child."
Michael screwed up his face and it reminded Brian of Gus when he had been a baby, just before he would cry. Oh, shit, Michael wasn't going to cry, was he? Brian hadn't meant to make Michael cry, shit.
"Why?" Michael asked petulantly, but quietly.
Brian was taken aback and straightened up. "Why what?"
"Why did you do this to me?"
Deflated. That was how Michael looked now. Deflated, defeated even.
"What crawled up your ass and died?" Brian demanded when they left the diner.
Michael walked with his hands shoved into his jean pockets, shoulders hunched forward as they made their way to Brian's car. Some days Brian and Michael would drive to the diner together and Brian would drop him off at the comic shop and then get to the office. Today, they felt like they had to, to bring some normality back to their lives.
"Mikey." Michael thought he could hear the hint of a whine in Brian's voice.
"It's nothing," Michael sighed. "Just forget it."
Brian frowned. "Is… this weird? Should we just not even bother trying?"
Michael stopped in his tracks. "What?"
"Do you think we shouldn't even try?"
"Are you saying you don't want to?"
"Mikey, that's not it," Brian argued. "You just… you're acting like-"
"Maybe if you had actually stuck around instead of running off to chase the nearest thing with a dick you haven't fucked, I wouldn't be so pissed off!" Michael yelled abruptly. Brian was taken aback, startled even. A few people on the street paused to give them questioning looks. Most of them recognized the pair, so the outburst was even more intriguing. Brian had the wherewithal to send the scattered passersby a glare. Nothing a queer liked more than gossip.
"Michael," Brian hissed, turning his attention back to his friend. "Could you make it sound anymore like a fucking lovers' quarrel?"
It was Michael's turn to be surprised. "Oh? That's what you think this sounds like? Because this seems normal to me, except I've never called you out on it before."
Brian caught snatches of murmurs from the people that passed by, even looking back over their shoulders at the friends. Christ, this was not going to fly.
"Michael, shut the fuck up!" Brian demanded quietly, grabbing him by the upper arm and hauling him off to a side street that he had parked on. Out of the view of what Emmett constantly call his 'adoring public'.
Michael wasn't going without a fight, pulling himself free as he was shoved into the nearby wall. "Ow! Asshole," he hissed, rubbing the elbow that had hit the brick. It was doing the tingly numb thing when you hit it in just the right spot. Funny bone his ass.
"You're acting like the asshole here," Brian corrected, pissed off as he fidgeted with the cuffs of his suit. "So I went to hit on the piece of ass at the counter, and at the same time get served my breakfast a little faster than you guys. Is it my fault that I was hungry and you three demand the booth every single time?"
Michael snorted. Apparently hungry had a double meaning. "No, but did you have to-"
Brian cut Michael off with a stern look. "Yes."
The shorter man's face fell into confusion. "But why?"
"Mikey, listen to me," Brian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you listening?"
Michael crossed his arms. "Yes."
"We fucked."
"I remember, believe me."
"We agreed that was it."
"Well, not in so many words, but yeah," Michael said slowly, nodding.
"So why the hell are you acting this jealous?" Brian asked.
"And he wants us to go away for a weekend, but he won't fucking leave his book at home," Michael finished miserably.
Brian had walked Michael back to the overstuffed sofa and sat him down. Before he could protest, Brian had settled next to him and pulled him into an awkwardly comfortable embrace. Michael struggled with telling his best friend or not as he tried to relax. It was still strange to have Brian comfort him so… physically. Usually it was from at least an arms length distance, but that was way back when. Recently, Michael's form of comfort from Brian happened in bed, which made this all the weirder. He couldn't picture Brian as someone that wanted to cuddle. Ever. Back when they were kids, well, that was another story.
On the other end, Brian had a hard time listening to Michael. He all but ground his teeth as soon as Michael mentioned Ben, but to try and take Michael away? He had to calm down and rationalize it, though. Ben and Michael were married (in Canada) and they lived together (it was more like glorified roommates, really…) and they had kids together (well, Brian couldn't argue that Hunter wasn't theirs together, but Jenny? Ben hadn't even wanted Michael to have her). Brian had to content himself with the fact that the Professor was fucking up on his own now. Here Michael was, trying his best to keep himself balanced, give his husband the fair shot that he (probably) deserved and Benny Boy was fucking it up. Royally.
"Mikey, it is his job," Brian said after hesitating. Shit, whose side was he on?
"No, teaching is his job," Michael countered. "Writing is what he wants to do."
Brian hummed in thought. "Okay, true. And, you know what? It's an idea he had for you two and all you wanted was for him to leave the notebooks at home for one weekend."
"Exactly!" Finally, someone understood him.
Michael was easy for Brian to understand. He didn't want to be babied or told what to think, or worse yet, what to feel. Gentle prodding would get anything out him, but a nice kick in the ass really let him loose. Nothing was sugar coated then and it was always easier to get the full truth when it came to dealing with Michael. For Brian, acting like he was finally turned on to Michael's viewpoint (when he had been from the start) was a good way to keep Michael appeased until he worked it out without sounding pushy. Because the last time Brian had pushed his idea on Michael, well… they wound up in this mess.
"What are you going to do?" Brian asked, honestly interested.
Michael looked up at Brian, head still resting on his chest. "What do you mean?"
"Michael, you can't just walk away and never give Ben an answer," he said. "He'll never leave you alone about it until you actually tell him yes or no."
Michael started chuckling and Brian looked at him questioningly. "What?"
"No, nothing… it's just," Michael trailed off with another round of quiet giggles. "Well, it's kind of funny you should say it like that."
"I'm still not seeing why," Brian said impatiently.
"It's kind of like you."
"What is?"
"Ben won't leave me alone until I tell him yes or no. Kind of like you."
Brian frowned. "C'mon, Mikey, this is a little different. I'm not asking you away for a weekend."
"I know," Michael smiled gently. "Although, you haven't really told me, straight out, what you are asking me for."
"Are you kidding me?"
The short drive to the Red Cape was unusually quiet as Brian and Michael sat at odds with each other. Michael didn't think he had been acting jealous. It was just fucking rude to get up and leave the table, conversation and all, to go hit on someone else. Brian didn't see it that way. He was thinking it was residual effects of their night together. Michael argued it wasn't with what he saw was logic and Brian argued it was and he just didn't want to admit it.
They both wound up in the car, steam nearly coming out of their ears. They were too pissed at each other to even make passing glances. The thick silence continued when Brian pulled up to Red Cape and the car idled while they sat. Michael finally reached for the handle and pushed the door open and got out.
As Michael was about to shut the door, Brian spoke up. "Mikey?"
Brian could see the physical hesitation in the lower half of Michael's body, before he leaned down to peer through the open door, looking at Brian questioningly.
"You wanna go out with the guys tonight?"
There was a long moment of silence between them as Michael tried to work out the correct answer.
"No, Brian," Michael said finally, exhaling loudly as he did so. "No. I don't think I'm ready for that."
Brian chuckled, rolling his eyes and taking his head with it to look out the window on his door. Fuck. Michael was supposed to light up, smile and say yes. This wasn't supposed to be hard. It wasn't supposed to be awkward. Michael said…
"Okay," he sighed, looking back over at his best friend, giving him a wry smile. "Next week, then." Michael opened his mouth to protest "Nope. Not another word. We're getting back on track."
Michael gave Brian an exasperated smile. Fine. As long as Michael knew Brian was in this for real, for the long haul to keep things going between… that was enough. He hated thinking Brian would've just left him, but it had been worrying him. But Brian was staying, was putting in the effort. The least Michael could do was let him.
"Hey, pal," a familiar voice called over the jingling of the door opening at Red Cape. The store was quiet. There had been a steady flow of customers since Rage had hit, new and old, but without anymore new issues coming out, business had slowed quite a bit aside from the school kids or occasional collector. Since the store was empty, he expected Hunter to be flipping through a comic, or just maybe doing homework or cleaning.
Neither. The store really was completely empty. Door unlocked, store empty… Hunter wouldn't be so careless… would he?
"Hunter?" Ben called out, a little more urgently this time as he headed for the backroom door. He found it locked when he tried the handle and heard scuffling and frantic shuffling from behind the door. A surprised Ben came to find a mussed Hunter standing before him with an equally disheveled blonde girl blushing and breathless behind Hunter, fixing her top on occasion in paranoid spurts.
"Hey, dude," Hunter said with a cheeky grin.
Ben frowned. "Hello, Katie."
"Hi, Mr. Bruckner," Katie said with a tiny wave.
"Hunter, out of there now. Katie, if you don't mind?"
"Yeah, sure," Katie said, face falling. Embarrassed, she gave Hunter a quick kiss on the cheek before darting out of the store.
Hunter sighed and walked back into the store and he knew he was about to be torn a new one. He wandered casually behind the counter. The more distance there was, the better in his opinion.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ben asked, angry in a split second. "You left the door unlocked, the money still in the register! I'm sure Michael told you how to handle it all."
"Yeah, he did," Hunter said with a nod.
"So?"
"Buttons."
"What?" Ben was thrown off track for a moment. "Never mind! Hunter, you can't just leave the place open and unattended! You know better than that. Michael is trusting you to-"
"Where is he?" Hunter asked.
Ben blanched, not quite wanting to answer. "He, uh, he went out for a bit."
"You two were gonna spend the day together."
"Plans get fucked up. This is not the topic, Hunter."
"You guys fight again?"
Ben sighed. Hunter wasn't going to stop unless he answered and there was no easy way to answer this at all. If Hunter knew how upset things were between them… well, Ben didn't want him running off again. That was the last thing he wanted.
"It's just a misunderstanding," Ben explained, waving his hand. "But back to you and Katie."
"I called, she came over, the store was empty so we just… got caught up," Hunter stated plainly.
"You know we like Katie, pal," the older man said gently. "But you can't shirk the responsibility we've given you."
"I meant to lock up, but I got distracted," Hunter shrugged. "Michael said it would be okay if she came over. If she does again, and this happens again, I'll lock up."
"I think, maybe, you're not ready for this yet," Ben said slowly, thinking it over. "It's a big thing and I don't want it interfering with school and you want all your time to be with Katie…"
"Dude, chill out," Hunter snapped, crossing his arms. "It's one mistake, I'm doing my homework. Shouldn't you be more worried about you and Michael?"
"Hunter, don't start," Ben warned.
"Why not?" The younger man demanded throwing his hands up. "This is fucking insane! Every other day you're either at each other's throats or just staring at each other, and man, if looks could fucking kill."
"Enough."
"Where'd he go?"
"I don't know!" Ben shouted, then looked like he regretted doing it. Or admitting it. Hunter wasn't sure. "We were talking about the weekend trip and he wants me to leave my book home and I don't want to and he just got out of bed and left."
"And, as his husband, you have no idea where he would go?" Hunter said dryly.
"I've had enough of your attitude," Ben told Hunter. He was walking a fine fucking line.
Hunter just cocked and eyebrow and tried to look casual. "I might know where he is."
"Was he here?" Ben seemed almost eager to know.
"Nope," Hunter shook his head. "But last weekend, when he came here to set me up, Brian came in. Said some weird shit, man."
Brian, of course. "Like what?"
"Said they 'found a better way to workout'," the young man told Ben with a shrug. "I don't have a damn clue. After that, Michael shoved him out the door. Looked like they were fighting and they got into Brian's car and left. Didn't see him for a few hours until he helped me close up."
There was a stab of doubt in Ben's heart. A better way to workout? Then coming home to a practically destroyed bedroom… That wasn't true at all. Wherever his mind was going, it was the wrong path. Michael said he'd been cranky. It had happened before, messy sheets and pillows strewn. Michael wasn't much of a morning person.
"Alright, pal," Ben said vaguely, still thinking, turning towards the door. "Just remember the next time Katie shows up, okay?"
"Yeah, see you later," Hunter said, watching Ben leave.
Michael was gonna be in deep shit if he didn't turn up soon.
"Ben!" Michael exclaimed, surprised when he was hugged from behind while reaching up on a shelf for a few comics to check out.
Ben kissed Michael's neck. "Hey, baby. Thought you might want to go grab lunch."
Michael squirmed in Ben's arms. "If you let me go, I'd say yes."
"Who said we had to leave for lunch?" Ben went back to attentions at Michael's neck and Michael tried not to stiffen up. They didn't do it often, Ben was usually busy with classes, but occasionally (rarely, really) Ben would show up during lunch hours and Michael was lock up the store and they would sneak away into the backroom. A little afternoon delight, if he was allowed to be corny.
But after Brian? To make love with Ben again after what happened?
Wait, wasn't he the one who insisted things would be normal, he was still in love with Ben and it changed nothing? Sex was something everyone did. Married couples, dating, single people. Sex happened all the time. This was not supposed to be weird. He loved this man and he wanted to stay wi- be! Michael wanted to be with Ben, not stay. He wasn't leaving.
"Babe?"
"Hm, yeah?" he tried to relax and pretend he had been absorbed in the light, tickling kisses.
"Gonna lock the door?"
Oh shit, now or never. Michael wriggled his way out of Ben's grasp, could he even think up an excuse on the spot right now? "Maybe we could get something to eat instead," Michael suggested, giving an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but the diner was so busy today and I wanted to open up on time. I barely ate."
"Aw, baby, you know you need to get a proper breakfast," Ben chastised gently, pulling him back into an embrace. "You've got a crazy metabolism. If you don't feed it, it'll eat you up!"
Michael laughed weakly. "I know, I'm sorry. The guys were giving Ma shit about it, but you know that doesn't make her go any faster."
Ben kissed the top of Michael's head, smiling. "Well, she's stubborn. C'mon, close up here and we'll grab something nearby."
One bullet dodged.
"Whatcha working on?" Michael asked, popping up behind Brian's chair.
Brian sighed. "Why won't you go home?"
"Cause."
"Michael, I'm working."
"Brian, I'm annoying."
"I knew that since I met you."
"Shut up!"
"Ow! You hit like your mother," Brian whined, rubbing the back of his head.
Michael smiled. "You don't know the half of it."
"You really need to go home, Mikey," Brian pushed again. "You know I don't mind you here, but I've got work that has to get done. The presentation is tomorrow, and Big Ben's probably wondering where you've gotten to."
"Brian?" Michael asked, sliding to the side of the chair to sit lightly on the armrest.
"Hm?" Brian had gone back to looking over the campaign. It was almost done, really. A few more tweaks, honestly, a lot more cleavage… there was a joke in there somewhere. He never saw the hand coming at the back of his head. "OW! You little shit, get out of my fucking office!"
"Make me!"
"Don't start this crap again."
Michael stuck his tongue out at Brian, who rolled his eyes. "Real mature, Mikey."
"I'm very mature for my age," Michael insisted, sliding from the armrest into Brian's lap, dislodging Brian's attention from the work as he found himself with a lap full of Michael. Brian held his hands up and away, as if he didn't want to contaminate the scene of a crime.
Michael looked up at Brian. "You look like a dumbass."
"You look like you're doing something you shouldn't."
"I'm inclined to agree," a third voice said, nearly sending Michael and Brian's heads spinning towards the door in shock. Brian was so startled he managed to get up out of the chair, sending Michael tumbling to the floor, one hand reaching out to catch himself on the desk on instinct. This sent the stacks of papers and work Brian had been so focused on previous to flutter around to the floor.
"How the fuck do you people keep getting in here?" Brian demanded to know, sounding exasperated.
"Remember how, when I first moved in, you told me to always lock the door when I left?" Justin said, striding into the room confidently, but slowly as if feeling out the old territory. "You probably should've told Michael the same thing."
Michael clamored to his feet, glaring at Justin. What was he, invisible? Justin beamed back at Michael, all too pleased to have walked in at just the right time. What the hell was he doing here? He saw Brian go over and hug the man, who returned it gratefully.
"How was the flight?" Brian asked, leaving Michael in the background.
Justin shrugged. "Short. I told you I could drive it."
"You would've been too tired to see anyone," the older man argued. "But I'm glad you made it. How's the show going?"
"Opening night was horrendous," Justin sighed. "Pictures, interviews" he waved a hand "I'm glad I've got the status to leave whenever I want now. Almost sold out, though."
Brian clapped a hand on Justin's shoulder, giving him a smile. "Almost only counts in horseshoes and war. Up for a drink tonight?"
Michael cleared his throat, tapping the papers he had silently collected off the floor on Brian's desk, setting the stack down firmly. Justin was here. Justin was here and Brian knew he would be coming. And now? Now he was just… an assistant. A background figure. It felt too much like six years back, suddenly. He was watching, helpless, as Brian reeled the kid in and left him standing there on the sidewalk.
"Mikey, put that down," Brian said, waving him over. "Come out with us tonight."
Michael made his way slowly over to the two, aware of how tall Justin had gotten in a year. His luck in the art world changing for the better instantaneously had affected his wardrobe too. No longer was this a kid playing dress up in Brian's image, this was a full fledged carbon copy. Michael wasn't a label whore like Brian, but he knew expensive when it smacked him in the face. A dark blue silk shirt wrapped in a deep brown leather jacket with black jeans Michael was sure didn't just come off the rack and a pair of undistinguishable (to Michael, anyways) pair of dark brown shoes brought it all together.
Bastard. It didn't have Brian's all black domineering, tailored, don't touch me it's worth more than your life style… but Michael was sure that if you matched price tags, they would equal the same.
Justin raised an eyebrow, giving Michael a hug that was returned halfheartedly. Michael was more upset that Justin was visiting and Brian knew about it and he didn't. Did anyone else know and keep it from him?
"Out with you two?" Justin asked, easing into the next question. "Are you two…?"
Brian couldn't answer quick enough. "No," Michael said, shaking his head. "Still married."
"Ah, well… as long as I wasn't interrupting," the blond said.
"You know how it is," Brian shrugged, an odd mix of emotions Justin couldn't place on his face. "I'm working and Mikey is nothing but trouble."
"Funny, Ma says the same thing about you," Michael muttered. "Hey, I got get going. Help Hunter close the shop and get something going for dinner."
"Well, are you gonna come out with us?" Justin asked. "We could get all the guys together."
"Yeah," Michael said, just wanting to get to the door. "Maybe just Woody's, though."
"Okay," Brian said, leaning over to give Michael a kiss on the cheek. Which wasn't out of the ordinary between them. "I'll get you around eight."
"Yeah. Sorry about work," the shorter man sighed, pulling away and heading for the door.
Justin watched Michael leave and turned back to Brian. "You didn't even tell him I was coming, did you?"
Brian smiled. "Do you really think I should've?"
A/N: Tada! Now, for the reviewer who said I should bring Justin back, that WAS an original plan. Too much angsty-ness not to. As far as the fiddler boy, I can say with certainty, that no, he will not be showing up. Unfortunately, I understood where Justin was coming from during that breakup and there really would be no way in hell he'd get back with him. But that's all I'm saying. Lol
I wanted to thank all the reviewers, because you guys are made of awesome. And to the one who loves Queen: You're my new best friend! XD No one else seems to understand their awesomeness. Lol
I'm sorry this one took so long, but I've been sleeping a little more with my very little free time than writing (I have classes six days a week and an overnight job without any days off, so it's hard lol) and this chapter was a little difficult. Without any smexy action going on, I was trying to find the right tone to strike with the inter-character relationships past and present. I hope I found it. I loved the opening scene with Ben, and the voicemails. Those were my favorites to write!
Anyways, reviews are very much appreciated!
~SL
