Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 19

(Setting: Danny's Townhouse; the same night in late May as in Chapter 18; POV/Brian)

I looked over at him lying on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton shorts. Fuck, he looked good, the muscles standing out on his abdomen and chest. He'd lost weight, though, and was notably thinner than when I'd last seen him undressed. His eyes looked bigger in his thinner face, but if anything, it made him look even more beautiful. He tipped his head, looking back at me questioningly.

"You wanted to talk?"

I wanted to fold him in my arms and make him forget the pain that took away his desire to eat, that kept him awake at night. But he didn't want that, not from me; not now. How was I to make him understand what was going on, when I didn't fucking understand my own actions, much less my feelings? I sat down on the chair nearest to the bed. Sucking in my lips, I tried to think of where to start. Finally, I spoke.

"I'm sorry for what happened, for what you saw." He tensed.

"You're sorry I saw it, or you're sorry that you didn't lock your door, or…" His voice trailed off. He wasn't going to make this easy on me. I hated seeing Danny look at me with such mistrust. He's looked up to me for more than half his life, and now he was looking at me like someone who, shit, like someone who has taken that trust and stomped all over it.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you that I still had feelings for Justin, strong feelings. You have to understand that before Justin, I wasn't even capable of loving someone. It took me five years to really be able to accept being in a relationship. I can't just let that go," I paused in presenting my carefully thought out rationale for my actions and he just flopped back against his pillows with a sigh and interrupted me.

"Forget about it, you don't need to explain it all now. I should have realized, others tried to tell me. You two meant a lot to each other, of course that type of love doesn't end. I was stupid to believe you saw me as anything other than someone to kill time with while you waited for him to come back."

"Wait, Danny, you're not listening. Let me try to get this out. It wasn't what you think, not really." I spoke more forcefully, trying to get him to hear me out. He just looked away, green eyes stormy, jaw set. Damn it, this wasn't getting me anywhere. Why was it I could find the words to sell anything except myself? I moved over to the bed. He gave me a cold look, one that said, "don't even think about it." I put my hands on his shoulders anyway, to make him keep looking at me. I tried not to be distracted by how warm his skin felt, how good it was to have contact with his body, even when it wasn't a prelude to love-making, as it would have been just two weeks ago. Sex wasn't going to solve this, yet sex was how I best communicated.

"Justin and I weren't together when you and I started seeing each other, we really aren't together now. I was still adjusting to being alone again when I met you, and I didn't like it. My old life didn't fit, and without Justin I didn't have a new life. You changed that. You filled the big hole that Justin's leaving left in my life. I'd gotten to the point where I didn't expect Justin to ever come back. Then, that day, he just showed up, and took me by surprise."

"That must be awkward, feeling the urge to fuck everyone who takes you by surprise in your office. Can I assume it's only the guys, or does Cynthia have to give you warning before she enters?"

Danny wasn't good at snide; he's basically too sweet a person, but I had to give him credit, he was giving it a good try. There had to be a way to explain this.

"No, of course not. What I meant was, when I saw Justin, out of the blue like that, all of my old feelings, the ones I'd been trying to get over, just pushed to the front. I tried to stop him, to talk to him about you and me, but he wouldn't listen, he, fuck, I don't know how to say this...." I let go of his shoulder to run my hand through my hair in frustration. Why did I let that happen with Justin like that? In my unlocked office where anyone could have come in? And where the worst possible person to see what was going on did come in?

"You mean he raped you? That little guy, who looks all of sixteen and is the size of one of my thirteen year old nephews?" Danny put on an incredulous expression. I was torn between amusement and annoyance. I ended up with something in the middle, and I heard myself complain, in what sounded precariously like a whining tone:

"You aren't making this easy, you know." At that, he shrugged my remaining hand away and got up on his knees, hands on his hips, pissed off as anything.

"Well fuck me, I'm sorry! I didn't realize I was supposed to be making this easy. I was going for making this as hard as possible on you. My bad. Why don't I make this really easy and tell you to get the hell out now?" Green fire was flashing at me from his eyes. He looked so incredibly sexy like this, mad as hell and practically naked. There had to be something wrong with me, I decided, that I could be so turned on when I was supposed to be apologizing for my over-sexed reactions.

I reached for him again. "Danny...."

"Don't touch me," he growled. "I'm not mad at you for having sex with him, Brian, well, not much. I never said you couldn't fuck around on me. I'm sure when Justin showed up and was all ready to be your loving PARTNER again, it would've taken a stronger man than you to resist him. I can even understand the doing it on your desk, I've heard the stories about how the two of you went at it like fucking bunnies when he worked with you. Working at Kinnetik myself now, I can't help but be forced to hear the gossip. The fact that I don't fuck you at work apparently has some people stumped. But I'm not a teenager and unlike you, I care about maintaining a professional image. I also have to worry about what kind of person I appear to be in case anyone ever wants to challenge my fitness to be raising Briana. I can't risk being a slut in public places like you can. This apparently leaves you wanting more excitement. I don't do backrooms or public rest ooms, or your fucking desk, with your staff right outside your office listening, but I didn't realize until this happened that you were so unsatisfied by what we did have. More importantly, I didn't realize that I was so unimportant to you that you didn't think to tell your former fiancé, the guy who thought you were still together, anything about me so that he wouldn't come back here for a visit and think that I was just a fucking trick that you forgot to kick out after you were done with him!"

Wow. It was probably good he got all of that out of him; all that anger must have been boiling inside him for the past couple of weeks. He was still kneeling on the bed, chest heaving, face flushed, and once again, I had to work hard at controlling myself, to not just grab him and use sex to make everything right. That would have worked with Justin, but Danny wasn't Justin. I simply do not do this relationship thing right. For a moment, I toyed with just giving up. But the thought of not being with him ever again hurt too much. Danny was worth it, just as Justin had been worth all the shit that came with trying to build a relationship. I reached out and took his hand in a firm hold, resisting his attempts to pull it free. I lowered my voice, hoping a calm tone would help calm him. It was a trick I'd seen him use with Briana. I met his hot glare with the most open look I could muster.

"You're right, I should have found a way to tell him about you. I made excuses to myself when it wasn't easy, when I couldn't reach him or I couldn't get him to set aside a time for me to visit. I had this idea in my head that I should tell him in person, that it wasn't the kind of news to give over the phone, even though I learned about his new lover by reading about it in the paper. But the weeks went by, and then it was months, and it no longer seemed as important to tell Justin. I no longer was thinking of him constantly, missing him, because you were with me, and I was happy. When he left, I didn't think I'd ever be happy again. But then we hooked up. And you do satisfy me, in every way. I don't need the thrill of backrooms or public sex, that scene had begun to pall even before I met you. You're exciting enough for me without any of that. I can't believe you don't know that, Danny. You can't think I've just been faking it with you, wishing I had something or someone else. Until this thing with Justin happened, I hadn't been with another man since meeting you at the hotel with Daphne that night. Even when you were hurt and couldn't have sex, I was more interested in watching TV with you than in sex with anyone else." I searched his face to see if I was reaching him. Damn, this relationship stuff is work. It's bullshit that all you have to do is be honest. You still have to hope that your honest motives and feelings are what they want to hear. Of course, in this case, my "honest" actions don't have a really good, honest explanation. I fucked up, no two ways around it.

Danny met my look with his own pensive one, all anger gone.

"So, you were happy with me, but then Justin came home," Danny said flatly. He slumped down onto his haunches. He looked so tired suddenly. He'd had a long, draining day, and now I forced this conversation on him when he was exhausted. It was too much for him, I thought, guilty for bothering him. And what else could I say, when in truth, Justin had come home and I reacted like Pavlov's dog to the sound of a bell ringing? Justin's body took hold of me, his smile captured me, and his tears, his tears ripped me apart as they always did. Danny didn't cry like Justin did, it wasn't a weapon in his arsenal. Justin always cried easily, his emotions so close to the surface, the tears glimmering in his blue eyes, making them look even bluer. Justin was a pretty crier, I realized. Not like Lindsay, who would get all red and splotchy. I wondered cynically if that was why he cried so easily; crying became him. It took his mother dying for Danny to cry, and even then, he'd fought against giving in to it for days, until the force of his repressed grief drove him to the point of collapse. I wanted so much to comfort him, to make him willing to accept my comfort.

"Justin came home and I handled it badly, but now Justin is gone and...."

"And you figured we could go back to where we were? I can be your fuck buddy while the man you love is away? I don't think so, Brian. I have more respect for myself than that, even if you don't." I winced at the bitterness in his voice.

"I know I hurt you, Danny, and I'm sorry, I fucked up, but that doesn't turn what we had into something cheap. You know I cared for you, that I still care for you."

"I don't know that, Brian, I thought I did but I was wrong. You're sorry. I get that. I accept your apology. I even accept that you meant to tell Justin about us, but what I don't know is, what would you have told him? That I was an old friend you were killing time with while he was gone? You clearly still love Justin, and I think that's something you might have made a little clearer to me. I may have been somewhat dense, but I got the distinct impression you and Justin were over and what I saw shows that's not true. What you're saying now is, that you weren't over Justin. Couldn't you have told me that before, well, fuck, just before? And why, if you cared so much for me, did you stay to finish what you were doing instead of coming after me?" He was sitting on his bed now, arms drawn around his knees, looking forlorn. Fuck what he said, I moved closer and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight against my chest. He tried for a moment to break free but I held on firmly enough that he would have had to hurt me to break free, something he easily had the strength to do. Instead, after a moment, he relaxed into my chest, breathing out softly. I put a hand up to cup his chin and turned it so I could look into his eyes.

"I don't know why I did what I did, Danny. But I didn't 'finish what I was doing.' I stopped, not that it changes anything. I never should have started. All I can say is that I didn't expect to react the way I did when I saw him. I didn't go after you right away because I thought, wrongly, that I should clear things up with Justin first so I could go to you with a clearer conscience than I had right then. I also wanted to give you time to cool down, knowing your temper." He smiled slightly at that and I felt encouraged to keep going, slowly stroking his cheek with my thumb.

"I fought with him over you, over the things he said to you; I don't know what got into him. I hate how he's acting right now, but I still love him. I also know that what I feel for you is strong, too. Danny, I lo ...."

"Don't. Don't say it. I don't want to hear it from you now, Brian." He pulled away from my hand and hid his face, speaking against my chest. His voice was so damn sad. I didn't blame him for not wanting me to tell him I loved him. It would ring as hollow as I'd always thought the words were. But it was true, I realized, I did love Danny, maybe as much as I loved Justin. It was a different kind of love, because he was such a different man, but the feelings were every bit as strong. I felt such pain over the hurt I'd caused him. I had to convince him it wasn't a lack of caring for him, but my own stupid confusion over my relationship with Justin, which caused this mess.

"Can't I at least tell you how much you mean to me, that I would give anything to make this hurt go away, to have your respect and friendship back? I'm so sorry for how badly I fucked up, Danny, please believe that and let me back into your life." My own voice was hoarse with the effort of not crying. I threaded my hand through his hair, missing the longer length as I nuzzled my face into its thickness.

"Please Danny, I don't expect things to magically be okay, but let me try? Let me be here for you."

"And what's the status with Justin? Does he know you still want to fuck me? That is what you want, isn't it? We're not just talking playing soccer together. " His voice was muffled as he kept his face down, pressed tightly against me.

"I told him I would be seeing you." I decided to ignore his sarcasm and stick to my unusually euphemistic phrasing. I had to acknowledge, to myself if not to him, that after hearing how he put it, I sounded like an ass. I wanted to have both of them. That wasn't even all of it. I still had to tell him about Simon's involvement in all of this. I hesitated over my next words as I knew it would upset him, but I also knew I had to tell him. I couldn't keep any more secrets about Justin from him if I wanted to have any chance of a future with him.

"He knows I'm going to keep seeing you, but we're supposed to try to make more of an effort to see each other, although I don't see that happening. There's something else I should tell you, Danny."

He lifted his head, a wry look in his eyes. "What? Unless you're going to tell me he announced he's pregnant with your child, I can't imagine what else there could be. I'm still wrapping my mind around the fact that you want to keep sleeping with me while you try to work out your relationship with him. Whatever else there is would have to be pretty good to top that."

"The man he's with in New York," I started slowly, knowing Danny would not take well to the news of who Justin's lover was.

"I was forgetting him," Danny conceded, a small smile creeping onto his face. "That does complicate you and him reconciling. Unless he's more understanding than I am."

"You tell me, you know him better," I couldn't help saying. I watched as his expressive face went from perplexed, to dawning realization, to horror.

"No! Emmett said he was seeing some rich old guy, but don't tell me it's..., wait, I heard that Edward's latest is an artist. You mean Justin...?"

"Is Simon's latest angel. He wouldn't tell me what his specific angel nickname is, but from his reaction when I asked, he definitely has one. And he was furious at the suggestion that there was anything wrong with his 'mentor.' Instead, he went so far as to warn me about you, if you can believe it."

"Bright angel, he calls him bright angel," Danny revealed in a dazed voice. "My agent told me last time we spoke, but I never imagined it was your Justin. I guess blond angel was used. This is too weird, Brian. Why, of all the people in New York, would Edward get involved with your Justin?" He looked up, the worry clear in his eyes.

"Well, at this point, I think he's more Simon's Justin than mine, but I don't think it has anything to do with you, Danny. Justin was already seeing Simon when you and I met again." Danny shivered and I pulled the covers up over him before lying back against the pillows with him still in my arms. He was close to panicking, his upset with me forgotten briefly in his worry over Simon.

"This can't be good, Brian. I'm not convinced this isn't some trick of Edward's, to get at me through you and Justin. And even if it's not, it still isn't a good thing. I don't like Justin. I'm sorry, but he's been an ass to me and there's no reason for me to like him, but I wouldn't want him in Edward's clutches. Didn't you warn him what kind of man he is, the kinds of things he's capable of? If Edward had any idea that Justin was seeing you, he'd be furious. What is the kid thinking of, fucking around on Edward Simon? Edward doesn't share his angels, unless it's for his entertainment, to put a show on for him. They're exclusively his until he's done with them."

"I tried to talk to him about him, he blew me off. He thinks he can handle him, that he is this sweet, generous soul who is helping him out of the goodness of his heart because he is this great benefactor of the arts."

Danny pulled away slightly. "Yeah, that's Edward, he is a fucking Mother Teresa. If Mother Teresa were into boy ass, that is. So, what it comes down to is, you want me to hang around for those periods between visits from your boyfriend, at least until Justin is done with Edward? Or rather, Edward is done with Justin. Is that the plan? Because I can tell you two things, one, there won't be any more get togethers between Justin and you if Edward learns of this one, and two, he'll tire of Justin within the year. He doesn't keep his boys long. You should have your little angel back by the time the rest of his 'angel' year is up. Even you should be able to manage without him, or me, for that long."

"And what if I can't? Manage without you?"

I tipped his head up and looked into his eyes; they were carefully masked, with no expression at all showing on that expressive face. I kissed him then, gently brushing his lips, as his mouth was firmly closed at first. Then, as I just continued to taste him, caressing his lips with my tongue, grazing his bottom lip with my teeth, he opened up to me on an inhaled breath. I deepened the kiss, sucking in his bottom lip first, then moving my tongue inside his warm mouth to tease against his, still just lightly touching and tasting.

"Brian, I don't want this," he spoke into my mouth, his voice husky, and the sound of it made me even harder.

"Yes, you do," I told him, moving a hand down to his hard cock. I rubbed him through the cotton shorts, feeling the dampness from his precum.

"This doesn't solve anything," he managed to say, pulling his mouth away with a groan as I stroked him harder.

"Neither was talking. I know how I feel about you, and how you make me feel. I hope that you'll believe me eventually, but in the meantime, let's..."

"Be fuck buddies? Because that's all you can offer, Brian. Don't promise anything more, don't offer what you can't give." I stilled my hand and started to argue but he shook his head at me.

"No, that's the deal. If I know the game I can't be hurt anymore. No more happily ever after nonsense filling my head. You can see other people, maybe you'll even see Justin, I could be wrong, maybe Edward has changed in the last couple of years. But, this time, I'll be sure to see other people too. When it works out for us to get together, then fine, we'll hook up, as I can't seem to say no to you and mean it anyway." He ground his hips against my hand as he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me, a rough, demanding kiss.

There was something wrong with this deal, but I'd do something about it later. Right now it was enough to be back in his bed, holding him, making him moan.

I pressed him down into the mattress.

Kicking off my boots, I covered Danny's body with mine, not breaking the kiss, the first one with him since he'd left me with only a note the morning after his mother's funeral. I wanted to make him forget his unhappiness, forget his disillusionment with me, forget everything but the pleasure his body was feeling, and who better to administer this brand of pain management than someone who'd spent years perfecting it? I stroked his smooth chest, flicking my thumb over his nipples. He gasped into my mouth and I deepened the kiss, my tongue darting in to caress his. He slid a hand inside my sweater and ran it up my back, kneading the muscles along the way. I could feel him shifting his body to make room for me between his legs, his knees gripping my waist, his erection pressing closer to mine. God, how I'd missed this, missed being with him, feeling his incredible body beneath me.

"Clothes, off," he ordered. I pulled up and away from him for a moment in order to pull my sweater over my head. He watched intently from beneath his lashes but didn't make a move towards helping, just laid there with his arms stretched above his head, his legs spread, knees tipped away, to give me room. I slowly pulled off my belt, and tossed it aside, then moved to unzip my slacks. He licked his bottom lip slowly and it was almost enough to make me come. I was so aroused by the sight of him like that. I hadn't lied when I said I hadn't been with anyone else since the last time with him, and I was aching I was so hard. I stopped what I was doing in order to bend down and suck on that full lip. Then I rolled over to the side in order to pull off my pants. Danny remained quietly watching, his face unreadable, but his heavy breathing showed he wasn't unaffected, that and the fact that his shorts were tenting over his own erection. He lifted his hips up in a silent request for me to pull the shorts off, which I did, of course.

"You are so fucking beautiful," I whispered before leaning down to take him into my mouth. I tongued the tip of his cock, licking away the pre-cum, fondling his balls with one hand as I steadied his shaft with the other. "I've missed your taste." Still, he made no response, just laid there, arms flung back over his head, eyes closed. This passivity wasn't like him, and the silence certainly wasn't. Danny was especially vocal in bed. I lifted my head and looked at him.

"Danny, are you okay?"

"Just fuck me, Brian." He brought his hand to my cock and stroked it, making me harder than I already was. I tried to slow him down, to make love to him, but he just grabbed a condom and ripped the packet open with his teeth. He took me roughly by the shoulders then, and pulled me over his body and down onto my back on the other side from where I'd been. He straddled me, his face blank of any emotion, and for a moment I thought he was going to fuck me, but then he rolled the condom onto my own weeping dick. Crouching over me, one hand firmly gripping my cock to position it, he lowered himself down onto me, without any preparation or lube. I knew I should stop him, realizing that he was trying to reduce this to meaningless sex, but damn, it felt so good, the tight heat of him; I couldn't help rocking up into him. He was biting down on his lip as he concentrated on riding me hard, his hands splayed across my chest, squeezing my nipples, his own biceps and chest muscles bulging. All I could think of was how fucking good it felt, how incredible he looked on top of me. On some dim level, I knew that this wasn't right, that he was hurting himself on purpose, but it felt too good to stop, the sight of his beautiful body moving up and down on me too intoxicating to think of letting it stop. I grabbed his hard cock and stroked him in time to the thrusts, coming even as I felt the hot come shoot over my chest.

"Oh God, Danny," I yelled, then tried to pull him down to kiss his face. He yanked back, lifting himself up and off. He headed into the bathroom, returning a minute later with a damp towel that he tossed at me.

"I'm getting a shower. Please lock the door on your way out." He turned and walked back into the bathroom, closing the door firmly. I quickly wiped myself off and got rid of the condom. I was dismayed to see the blood on it; fuck, I was afraid he was hurting himself. I should have stopped things, or at least slowed it down, but the truth was, I was too horny to do either. Although, realistically, short of losing my hard on, there wasn't a lot I could have done. Danny is far stronger than I am; when he rolled me onto my back, if he had been going to fuck me there wouldn't have been a lot I could have done about it. I winced at the thought.

I walked over to the bathroom, trying to figure out how to fix things. I seemed to be making them worse so far. At least he hadn't locked the door. Inside, he was just standing by the sink, leaning on the vanity and staring in the mirror. From the doorway, I caught his eyes in the mirror.

"What the fuck is going on in your head? " By this point, I wasn't sure whether I was more pissed at him or worried.

"I'm tired, Brian, I don't want to talk any more tonight. You got what you came for, so would you please go the fuck home?"

I considered doing just that. Did I need this shit? But there was just enough of the scared boy I once held in those reflected eyes, eyes that now looked so world weary, that I had to try again. That's the trouble with this caring and relationship shit; once you got started, it was hard to stop.

"Yeah, I got what I came here for, and now what I'm staying here for is that I want you to let me wash you off in the shower," I said softly. I went to get the water ready, the way he liked it, not too hot. Then I gently pulled on his arm to bring him over to the shower. He stepped in with me and let me soap him up. I carefully washed away the blood from his crack, then rinsed him clean. As I washed his hair, he leaned back against me slightly.

"That feels nice," he whispered finally as I worked the shampoo through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly.

"Good." I took my time conditioning it, rubbing it through the dark strands, then rinsing it again.

Getting out, I dried him off, checking to make sure there was no more blood. I wrapped towels around both our waists, tucking another one around his shoulders. He let me take care of him, green eyes watching me. I combed his hair, getting out all the tangles before pushing him gently towards the bedroom.

"Sit down on the chair for a minute, let me change the sheets." He nodded, then curled up in the armchair, seemingly content to watch as I stripped the bed and put fresh sheets on it. He startled me when he spoke, low though his voice was.

"Do you want to stay?" I turned to look at him, trying to read his expression. I hated to see him look so lost but at least there was an expression now, and not that blank face.

"Would you like me to?" He just looked at me, biting his lip again. Poor lip, it would still be swollen tomorrow after all the abuse it took tonight. He had his legs drawn up to his chest and with his damp hair curling around his face, he looked far younger than his twenty-seven years.

"Yeah, I'd like it." He nodded his head, then unfolded himself from the chair and came over to me. He wrapped his arms around me and rested his head against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted, Bri, I just feel like I don't know what's real between us anymore. And I feel like Edward is just too close to me, there's an insufficient number of degrees of separation, if you know what I mean."

"We'll get it all sorted out, kiddo, let's just try to get some sleep now, okay?" He nodded and I kissed him again, a gentle kiss to seal our new peace. Then we got under the covers on the freshly made bed and went to sleep, curled up against each other, both of us relieved not to be alone.

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(Setting: Edward's Suite above his Gallery; Late May; POV/Edward)

"Are you ready to leave, Justin? Those clothes are not quite appropriate, are they?" I looked at the boy, who'd just entered the suite clad in his usual garb of khakis and a t-shirt, both garments bearing evidence of his afternoon's painting. I was in formalwear, Armani of course, and a glance at my watch revealed that the car would be coming around for us in just a quarter hour. He looked back at me innocently and smiled brightly, a bit too brightly in my estimation, triggering my suspicions.

He still thought I was unaware of his little tryst with his old lover, Kinney, thinking he got away with something on me. I couldn't help smiling. Such naivety was charming in its way, especially when it made the boy so easy to read. I didn't exact any punishment; it was enough that the visit was the travesty my sources tell me it was. I was surprised, however, that he would try something again so soon.

I was not aware of any friends he still had in the city, not since the Hispanic waiter left. This could prove more amusing than the evening at the opera I had planned.

"I was thinking of passing on tonight, if you didn't mind, Edward, as I'm in the midst of a creative spurt and I want to take advantage of it. You don't mind, do you, just this one time?" He maintained his gaze into my eyes, but the pretty blue eyes were a bit nervous now, no doubt wondering if I believed him. It wouldn't do, of course, for the boy to feel like a prisoner to my whim.

"Are we back to thinking I am some type of monster? One who keeps you chained either to your easel or my side? Of course you don't have to accompany me if you'd prefer not to do so, Justin." I assumed a hurt mien. Justin immediately looked guilty. Ahh, the games we play. This one is still amusing, my bright angel being so innocent, so fresh. Despite all of his experiences with that man Kinney, and I'm told they were such as would have jaded many a young man, he retained such sweetness of nature. He reminded me of Danny in that respect. Danny in the beginning, that is, before he became so suspicious and resistant. They couldn't be more different in appearances though, and I appreciated that as well. A copy of my dark angel would be bitter. With my other angels, I could at least achieve bittersweet, I thought with a laugh at myself. I had thought Justin would mention meeting Danny, which would have given me the chance to pump him for information, but thus far he's remained silent about his activities in Pittsburgh. Hence, my amusing game of cat and mouse.

"That isn't it at all, Edward. I know you don't need me hanging on your arm to have a good time, and I know I'm free to do what I want. I just feel bad for not telling you sooner, that's all. Time got away from me. But if you want, and don't mind holding the car for a little bit, I can rush through a shower and dress in no time."

"No, no," I protested amiably. "I want you to keep working, by all means! I know enough of artists to know that the muse is not something to ignore, so while genius burns, take advantage of it, angel. The opera is not your favorite activity, I know, so it's just as well that you work tonight and can then enjoy our theater outing later in the week. I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see, the Monty Python one." His face reflected genuine excitement at that news; mixed with relief perhaps?

"Spamalot? That's fantastic, Edward! I've wanted to see that for ages. When are we going?" He came over to me then to give me one of his spontaneous hugs. He really was a sweet boy. Too bad he's trying to cheat on me. I would have to show him that cannot be allowed.

"Saturday night, so try to get all the work done that must be done before the weekend so that you can enjoy yourself. With it being a holiday weekend, you don't want to have to slave away."

"Fuck, I forgot it was Memorial Day weekend already. I'd better buckle down, summer's practically here and I'm nowhere near ready for my show." He gave me his bright smile again, which really was one of his most charming features. "I'll work my ass off to get as much done in what's left of the week as I can so we can have fun this weekend, promise."

"Don't do that, please! Your ass is one of my favorites parts." I looked at him in mock dismay and he giggled. I gave him a kiss then, pressing him close, kneading that delicious ass, and I was pleased to feel his erection, proof that he was still attracted to me. Words can be faked, but "hard" proof was more reliable. Of course, I thought ruefully as I watched him walk back out, deliberately twitching that luscious ass at me, at his age it didn't take much to become aroused.

I waited until he had time to be clear of the hallway outside and called George on the intercom.

"George, I believe young Justin will be going out alone tonight, not with me. I want you to discreetly follow him, don't let yourself be seen, please, and report back to me when you know his destination." George indicated his understanding. That took care of that, I thought, loosening the tie at my neck. I would enjoy a nice glass of wine and relax with a book while I waited. No real point in going to the opera when I didn't have my latest angel to enjoy it with me. The allure of such evenings had long since paled, now all of the pleasure was in seeing it through their young eyes. Not that my bright angel was a particular fan of the more refined pleasures of life. He enjoyed museums and gallery openings, and even the occasional musical, but his lack of a well-rounded education tended to reveal itself when I attempted anything more elevated.

I allowed my thoughts to wander to what it would be like to go to the opera with my dark angel. His formal musical knowledge far outstripped mine, of course, yet it was his enthusiasm that would be the best part of it, not his intellectual enjoyment of the treat. The same would be true of ballet. The few times I was able to watch him at such functions, one could see his whole body reverberate with his excitement as he immersed himself in the experience. I knew he would be the same when he had sex; his body was so sensual, so perfect in form. I unbuttoned my shirt as I reached for the report from the investigator who had kept an eye on Justin in Pittsburgh. I hadn't had Danny followed in several months, there didn't seem to be a need as he had settled into a fairly innocuous lifestyle upon his return to his hometown. It came as a surprise, therefore, to find out that Justin's Brian had been consoling himself with my Danny. Quite ironic, really. I remove the man from my bright angel's life and he pops up in my dark angel's. But it seemed that Justin's little visit threw a spoke in the works there. I couldn't help but be glad, despite the fact that Justin's actions showed a lamentable lack of respect for me. I really didn't want to think of my Danny with Kinney. I could not help but acknowledge the man's physical beauty. And he was reputed to be quite the lover. But no, he wasn't the right one for Danny, whose lack of a serious lover since his return form France just went to prove that he was waiting for me to claim him. I was disturbed by the thought of Kinney using what was mine. I had intended to be the only man to ever plow that tight ass, and if my reports were correct, Kinney had stolen that from me. I didn't really need the reports to reach that conclusion, if ever there were a man made only to top, it was Justin's old love. With Danny, it was sheer stubbornness. I tried not to think about it. There would be time to deal with Kinney later, and I suspected his dismay at losing both Justin and Danny would be punishment enough for the man, who was out of his league with both of my angels.

I looked again at the photos of Danny at his mother's funeral, leaving the Church holding the little girl, standing at the gravesite with all those handsome brothers of his lined up near him, a sister on his arm and still carrying the little girl. My poor boy looked like he was in shock. The caterer's employee who handled the wake said he collapsed that evening. I wished he would turn to me. Even on the brink of falling apart, he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. I sent flowers, of course, and received word from the florist who said that when told they 'couldn't be refused', the flowers were sent directly to the hospital's geriatric ward. Still as stubborn as ever, even in the midst of his grief. That was my dark angel, always determined not to take anything from me. So, of course, I had no choice but to take from him, his acting, his singing, his dancing.

Danny blamed me for his sister, but in her case, I didn't so much take as encourage. She was a junkie; it didn't take me to push her to the edge. Only my naive angel would think she could be saved once she started down that road. Making sure she had the money for her habit was all I did. And she begged me so prettily for it, too. She had recovered a good bit of her looks while Danny lived with her and the child. Not as much as back when I'd slept with her, but enough to remind me why I did. She looked so much like her brother. If the child's birth had occurred a little later, I would have thought she could be mine, but no. She was a couple of months off, and God knows, Angel was spreading them for anyone who would provide her with a fix back then. It was a wonder the child didn't have two heads, yet she was as pretty as her uncle. I wondered if he felt guilty for leaving them, leaving Angel to fight her demons alone. I couldn't help chuckling, of course he did. Danny always did guilt so well, thinking he could save everyone and blaming himself when he couldn't. I once toyed with the idea of pretending to be in a situation where he would need to save me, but I just couldn't reconcile myself to the idea.

The detective had made me a recording of Danny singing at the church service. His voice was as pure as ever. The pictures were spread out before me, his face in close-up, his body as he leaned into the car to fasten the child seat. Lovely. I reached for my belt and undid it. There was plenty of time to kill before George would call. I had no doubt Justin would work for a while before heading out, and he would need to change those filthy paint splattered clothes if he were going anywhere special. I let my thoughts drift as my hand slipped into my tuxedo pants. Plenty of time before going to find my mouse.

*************************************************************************

(Setting: A Club in Soho; later that night; POV/Justin)

I walked into the club, thankful it was one of the smoke free ones that really enforced it since Edward would be suspicious if he smelled smoke on me. I looked around for Miguel. I hadn't wanted to call the apartment he had shared with Juan, as that would have given him a chance to tell me to go to hell, so instead I figured I would go back to the club we'd been at for Juan's good-bye party, and hope to run into him there. I hadn't noticed the night of the party that the crowd looked this rough. Seeing no sight of Miguel, I figured I might as well get a drink and sit for a while. Maybe he would come in later. Juan said it was a hangout of his. I figured I had at least an hour before I should take a cab back to the gallery. Channeling my inner Brian Kinney, I made myself walk over to the bar with as confident a walk as I could manage. I paid for a scotch, then leaned against a pillar to watch the dance floor.

"Well, look at what we have here. Bring that ass over here, blondie, let me see if it feels as good as it looks." The big bear type, all decked out in leather and chains, laughed to his biker buddies as I turned away, ignoring him. Most the guys at the diner who tried lines like that were just messing with me, and most of them were pussy cats in biker clothing, like the pair Brian brought to Mel and Lindsay's anniversary party. I figured the best thing to do would be to ignore it like I did at the diner. My mistake. The next thing I knew, I was spun around and pressed up against the guy; he had one arm around me, pinning my arms to my sides, and pressing me up to his massive chest, while his other hand was fondling my ass in a very uncomfortable, probing way. Fuck!

"Put him down, friend," a soft voice behind me ordered.

"And what if I don't want to, pretty boy? Maybe I'll try you after I get a taste of blondie here." More raucous laughter from Big & Hairy's fan club. I couldn't even turn my head to see who my would be rescuer was as my captor was squeezing me so hard. I could hardly breathe, much less turn around, especially since I was dangling a foot or so off the ground.

"If you don't want to," the soft voice whispered, moving closer so that I could feel his breath against my neck, and his hand insinuating itself between my thighs and Ugly in Leather's groin, "then I'll have to cut your dick off. That is a knife from my pocket you feel as I'm not glad to see you."

Shit, the hard object I could feel relatively close to my own crotch was a fucking knife? I try going out once on my own in the city and this is what I get. Caught between two crazy people.

"Well, fuck, Migs, why didn't you just say he was yours in the first place? Little John, idioto, put the kid down," commanded one of the bikers, a dark, mean looking one with a big mustache. I felt myself dropped unceremoniously, and would have fallen but for a quick hand grabbing my arm and steadying me.

"I get tired of words, Carmen, you hoodlum, I do that all day. Actions are so much more efficient, sometimes. Effective, too. I know you agree." I looked up a bit dazedly, and saw Miguel's white teeth flashing at the biker guys.

"Good point but watch who you're calling a hoodlum, you're the tough man with the knife," the one called Carmen laughed. "Though by the time I could have convinced Little John here that a pretty face like yours masked the soul of one crazy mother fucker, your sangano probably would have been passed out on the bathroom floor after our large friend had had his way with him."

Miguel smiled, coldly this time. "Well, maybe you'd better teach your baboso better manners, you never know who you might be fucking with." He then added something in his rapid Spanish that had the other men all looking at me nervously. I had an idea of what it might be, as I caught the words "Senor Simon" in the mix. They said a quick adios and left the area.

"Well, well, Justin Taylor, my brother was right, you do need a keeper. Coming down here on your own, estupido. Since Little John made you spill most of that last drink, why don't we get you another and then you can tell me why Edward Simon's angel is slumming it tonight?"

"What did you tell them? That I belong to him or something?" Now that the danger was past, I found it in me to be indignant.

"Don't you?" Miguel looked at me mockingly. "Don't bother throwing one of your snit fits at me, pato, I have far too many little sisters to be impressed by un ingrato queen like you. A word of thanks wouldn't be amiss, but in lieu of that, I'll let you buy my drink too."

I flushed. I should have thanked him. While I didn't quite believe that the large guy, damn, why did they always have cliché names like Little John, would have raped me, extricating myself from that situation would have been unpleasant. 'Yeah, unpleasant like a butt fucking without lube is a tad uncomfortable,' that little voice in my head taunted me. Like I needed a voice in my head doing that when Miguel was more than capable of handling taunting duty.

"Thank you, I..."

"Don't know your way around yet, I know, so forget about it, no problem. Why don't we get those drinks and go find a table. Juan's been on my case to check on you anyway so it's good we met up tonight." Miguel suddenly was perfectly pleasant, no trace of mockery in his voice for once, as he signaled to get the bartender's attention. I envied how he did that. Brian could always do it too. I was too short, or too young looking, or something, but bartenders ignored me. Bartenders tended not to be too impressed with your looks; all they cared about was how good a tipper you were. And in truth, my drinks were generally bought for me back in the old days so I never had the chance to develop good skills in getting their attention. While years of waiting on others made me as good a tipper as I could afford, bartenders probably still took one look at me and figured, "broke." And they weren't far off. Edward was generous with providing housing and food, but I relied on my savings for spending money, and that resource was dwindling. It wasn't like I could ask Brian for a loan, and I hesitated to ask Edward for anything when he'd done so much for me. So, I had to be fairly frugal when out. Still, Miguel had certainly earned my buying him a drink. But as I pulled out my wallet to pay, he took a glance at it and pushed my hand away.

"I have it, don't sweat it, I was only kidding. Starving artists should get treated over relatively well off part-time law students and full-time paralegals, at least that was always Juan's argument."

At the kindness, as well as the second reference to my only friend in the city, well, my only friend my age, I amended the thought, I could feel my stupid eyes tear up. Miguel just flickered his eyes at me and otherwise ignored my emotional response. He indicated with a toss of his head that I was to follow him and we walked over to a small cocktail table set against a wall, over in an alcove. It was as much privacy as the bar afforded from prying eyes.

"So, a toast to our Juan, who has been burning up the auditions in L.A." Miguel clinked his glass with mine. I smiled a little bit.

"So, Juan is doing well? I always knew he would. And going out to L.A. was a good idea, huh?"

"Well, he had a bit of a false start, seems there was a little bit of a misunderstanding with the agent as to the type of thing he was looking for, but he got a part in a small independent film and the director, who is an actor too, liked him so much, he put a good word in with this television writer, and now Juan has a part in a new series that was picked up for the fall. So, yeah, he's good. He asked about you."

"What kind of false start? Didn't Edward's contacts help him?" I shifted nervously.

Miguel was inscrutable. Miguel was always fucking inscrutable, when he wasn't being a pain in the ass. A kind Miguel was the only new touch.

"It's not important, it all got worked out and yes, Edward's contact was useful in that he taught Juan some important things, things he needed to learn, so it was all good. You tell me what you've been up to, did you come all the way down here just to dance and get groped by big hairy men?"

I felt awkward, admitting that I'd come looking for Miguel. But, his face was my friend's face, and the familiarity, plus the unusual kindness in his voice, made me want to confide in him as I used to with Juan. I felt the tears start up again.

"Justin, what has he done to you? What is it, baby, we can take care of it, nothing is that bad." Miguel's voice was low and gentle as he bent his head close to mine.

"Justin, are you okay? Is this man bothering you?" I looked up appalled. Edward.

"No, no, of course not, it's..." I stood up, as did Miguel, hovering protectively by my side. I was surprised to see he was slightly taller than Edward. I'd never noticed it when Juan was in the room with Edward, but that was probably because Edward was so much more dominating. The brothers were identical in height and weight, but Miguel had far more presence.

"Ahh, I see now, it is our friend Juan, back from California already, are you? Seeing if Justin will help you out with your next project, perhaps?" Edward's voice was coldly mocking. I started to correct him as to who he was speaking to, when Miguel cut in.

"Just back for a visit, Mr. Simon, one of my sisters is getting married, you know? Family duty and all that. How are you, sir?" Miguel smiled at Edward, in a perfect imitation of his cheerier twin. I stayed quiet. Clearly, Miguel didn't want Edward to know who he was, and I certainly wasn't going to explain that this was Juan's brother. Edward was more likely to be annoyed at the idea of my lying to him to see someone he didn't even know, than Juan, who we'd both "known."

"How nice for you that you could make it all the way back for such an important occasion, and I'm fine, thank you for asking. You're looking as though L.A. agrees with you." Edward looked at my friend's twin appraisingly.

"Oh it does, I can't wait to get back after the wedding. I was so glad Justin could get away from his work long enough to say hi before I have to leave again. I'd just told him I'd be heading out again, Sunday, and what with the wedding and everything, this is our only chance to get together this trip Don't know when I'll be back." Miguel was so ingratiating, I was sure Edward would think something was up. But after looking at him closely for a moment, he just smiled.

"Justin, you should have told me you wanted to meet up with your good friend tonight, I would have made sure you had George or someone to watch over you. This isn't the best of neighborhoods, I'm afraid. No offense, Juan."

"Of course not, Mr. Simon, I'd told Justin the same thing myself, but he didn't want to meet at my apartment, you understand, and he was familiar with this club, so we made plans to meet here. I made sure he took a cab and was waiting for him inside the doors."

Edward nodded at that. "A sensible precaution; a young man of Justin's appearance could attract a good deal of unwanted attention in a place of this type."

"Hello, I'm still here," I informed them, annoyed. For a moment, I forgot that Miguel was just playing a part. What he described was just the type of over protectiveness that Juan used to display. Of course, Miguel had seen it enough to be able to mimic it flawlessly, and he also knew the reaction it caused in me. He grinned at me, unrepentant.

"Well, now that Mr. Simon is here to retrieve you, why don't you head out, Justin, and I'll give you a call when my big career in film pays me enough to afford the minutes. Good thing Tio Ralphie paid for my flight here. And thank you again for the contact, Mr. Simon, he was a big help in jump starting things."

Edward smiled. "I thought he might be, Juan. I'm glad that things worked out for you. My best to your sister. But I'm sure you boys still have plenty to catch up on; Justin couldn't have been here long, so why don't I leave you here? I can send George back in an hour or so with the car and you can just call him on your cell when you're ready to leave, Justin."

"You must know exactly how long I've been here, Edward, didn't you have me followed? How else would you have known where to find me? I don't think this club is any more your kind of place than it is mine."

If I thought I could disconcert Edward, I was foolish. Not for the first time this outing. He gave me a pained look. "I came home early, feeling badly about your working so hard, Justin, and I found you gone. I was concerned that you might have tried joining me at the opera after all, so I asked the doorman if he knew where you headed. He overheard the address you gave the cabdriver when he closed the door for you. Recognizing it as one of the rougher establishments in this area, I thought I would just check and make sure you were safe. I know you aren't all that familiar with the City, angel. Was I wrong to be worried?"

Shit, now I felt guilty, looking at his concerned face.

"No, of course not, and I'm sorry for worrying you. I was planning on working..."

"But then I called him tonight and asked him to meet me, so it's all my fault, Mr. Simon," Miguel smoothly interjected. "I talked Justin into stopping work. I probably should have thought more, or waited until tomorrow, but as I said, my time will be taken up with family from this point on." He smiled at Edward again, his face a masterpiece in innocent regret. Damn, Juan was clearly not the only actor in the family.

"All the more reason for me not to cut your visit short, then. As I said, I'll send George back for you after he takes me home, Justin, unless of course you'd like to invite Juan back to the suite." There was a gleam of interest in Edward's eyes as he looked Miguel over.

"I'd really better be going now," I rushed to say, not wanting Edward to press his invitation for Miguel to come back any further. I knew what that gleam meant, and I suspected I wouldn't be as effective at stopping Edward's advances as Miguel had Little John's. That annoying little voice whispered that maybe I just didn't want to find out if Miguel wouldn't want them stopped?

I hugged Miguel good-bye, still pretending he was his brother. He gave me a kiss on the forehead and told me to be good, then he patted me on the ass.

"He's all yours, Mr. Simon."

"Thank you, Juan, and if you find your time freeing up, please let Justin know, perhaps you can stop in for a drink, for old times sake."

"I just might do that, Mr. Simon, thank you. You take care of that one, he's something special."

"I'm quite aware of that," Edward smiled, putting his arm around me to steer me out of the club. I didn't look back as we walked out to the waiting car, which was double-parked in front of the club. I didn't need to look back to see Miguel one last time. I was conscious of the small business card he'd tucked into my back pocket when he patted my ass. I had a way to reach him now, and a clear invitation to do just that, which made me feel a lot better about dealing with Edward's mood when we got back to the suite. I'd lied to him, and I didn't think he'd be happy about it. But surprisingly, he didn't say anything, beyond noting he was tired and thought he would retire early. Feeling bereft by his seeming lack of interest in spending the night with me, I exerted myself to seduce him. I felt guilty for being so suspicious of him that I'd cooperated in misleading him over Miguel, especially when he seemed so genuinely nice about Juan. I consoled myself with the thought that it would have been awkward to deny that Miguel was Juan when he'd already said who he was. So I treated Edward to an especially good blowjob, grateful that my escapade didn't cause any trouble. I didn't think I couldn't cope with losing him so soon after finding out that I might not have Brian to return home to when this whole thing was over. When did my life get so fucking complicated?

*************************************************************************

(Setting: Same Club in Soho; Same evening; POV/Miguel)

"What happened to your little friend, Miguel?" I looked up from my scrutiny of the tabletop to see the dark haired girl sit down in the seat vacated by Justin. Jenn, she would be able to help me, I thought, after biting back my initial snarling response.

"If it isn't the Cyprian, just the woman I wanted." I gave her my best toothpaste ad smile; it came easily after all the pretending to be Juan that I just did. How my twin managed to be so fucking cheerful all the time was beyond me. I never could have worked for that asshole Simon, much less had sex with him. I grimaced just to think of Juan with that prick. I refused to think that Justin probably had to satisfy the old sicko at that very moment.

"Hey, you watch who you're making frowny faces at, my handsome bobo, and it's Cyprian, not 'the cyprian.' A small but important distinction, as I'm sure an educated man such as yourself would understand."

Jenn grinned impishly at me. She'd been a fixture in this neighborhood for a couple of years now, writing her great American novel, and waitressing to pay the rent. Like Juan, the great American actor. No one in this damn city is just what they do for a living, they're all waiting for their big break. Except me, the great Mexican-American lawyer. Well, almost lawyer. I don't believe in breaks. I believe you get somewhere by doing things the hard way. Not through so-called breaks. But Jenn Cyprian had a point, hooking was one thing my feisty little friend had not turned to in order to get by. Nanny, dog walker, windshield wiper, you name it and Jenn had probably done it, but unlike a lot of girls in this section of the city, she hadn't sold herself. She would have made money at it, too, I couldn't help thinking, she had a fine shape on her and a cute face, not too tall, but pretty fine nonetheless. After that evening with Simon, I wasn't all that sure that Juan could make the same claim to never prostituting himself, no matter how nicely Taylor had presented the "gift" of a thousand bucks. Getting money for sex is hustling, in my book.

I found myself getting pissed off all over again, which was wasted emotion over an argument I'd lost when Juan came back with the money still in his pocket that day after phoning in a panic and telling me what had happened. It was only a short time later that Simon removed him in another one of his acts of beneficence to the arts. Yeah, benefactor my ass. He was removing Juan from being the voice of reason to that stupid shit Taylor. And the so-called break was the chance to do porn in California. Luckily Juan didn't sink to that, and made his own contacts quickly enough. But now I was left with his little fuck buddy to baby-sit, which I hadn't been doing too well, from the looks of things tonight. But when Juan told me how Taylor acted after he tried to warn him, I wasn't feeling too charitable towards the blond. Horny yes, to my chagrin, but definitely not charitable. Now the kid was obviously lonely and upset and not only was I feeling like I should do something, I knew I'd have one pissed off twin if I didn't at least make the attempt to reach out to him. Hopefully he would get the message from my card that I shoved in his back pocket when I hugged him, and call me. But in the meantime, Jenn could really help. If I could talk her into it.

"Jenn, sweetheart, one and only Cyprian, I need you."

"Why do you only say that when you want me to do something? I trust you not, mihito, tall, dark and handsome though you are, puto. No wait," she laughed. "Tall, dark and handsome is exactly why I shouldn't trust you, duh! Rule number 306 from Mami Cyprian's litany entitled "How to avoid men making your life miserable like they made mine."

"306, huh? It comes that late in the list, it couldn't be all that important, and I'm not that ... tall." I smirked at her, causing her to laugh again.

"The list goes in order of increasing priority. But enough of mami, I'll get a rash, tell me what you need poor little Jenn to do for you. Rob a bank? Donate a kidney? Have your baby?"

"Get a job at Edward Simon's gallery."

"Have I mentioned that they're especially fine kidneys? Hardly ever used at night."

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