Chapter 12

Author's Note: For the QAF purists that will notice this. There is a scene with Brian and Lindsay that I did not include here. It's basically Lindsay bitching about Mel and I didn't think it was really important here.

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Brian

The pictures of Mikey I had put up for his birthday still adorn my loft wall. I face them as I work out on my treadmill and the images haunt me; especially the ones of the two of us. I know I did what needed to be done, but what I didn't realize was how much I would fucking miss my best friend.

Fuck it. This is ridiculous. I slow down the treadmill and pick up my phone. I dial Mikey's number and wait.

"Hello?" My best friend's voice comes over the line.

I can't speak. I can't believe I'm fucking speechless. I turn around and walk backwards for a moment because who the fuck knows? Maybe that will help. It doesn't. I finally just turn off the phone. Fuck!

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I've barely made it into my office when Cynthia descends upon me. I'm really in no fucking mood. "The gym called you, your tailor called again, and Ryder wants you…"

I interrupt her. "Well, fuck the gym, fuck the tailor and fuck Ryder!" I pick up my pack of cigarettes. "Would you please get me some aspirin or something? I have a bitch of a headache."

Cynthia snaps the appointment book closed. "Okay." She moves over to my desk and opens it up again, laying it down in front of me. "It's been a week since the usual phone calls from Michael every five minutes." She puts a hand on her hip. "Is he away or something?"

I don't look at her. "Yeah, you could say that," I answer abruptly. She takes that as her cue to leave. Smart lady.

I sit at my desk smoking for a bit, pressing my fingers to my aching head. An idea occurs to me, but I can't fucking believe I'm actually going to do it. I bite the bullet and dial my phone.

"Ted Schmidt," comes the voice over my phone.

"Brian," I reply.

"Brian who?"

Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me. Schmuck. "Brian who do you think? That's who." I answer.

"Oh, I didn't recognize your voice. You know, I don't think you've ever called me."

"Well, today's your lucky day."

"Well, I'm not talking to you, remember?"

Brother, are we still in junior high or what? "Yeah, right, so what are you doing tonight?"

"I haven't thought about it."

"Well, think about it and decide if you want to hang out."

"With you?" comes his shocked question.

"You sound surprised," I smirk.

"Uh, no, surprised would be if I won the lottery, or if an asteroid hit the earth, or if Richard Simmons was straight. No, try dumbstruck!"

Christ, this is like fucking pulling teeth. "So, you're not busy?"

"You have to ask?" he snarks.

"Woody's, after work," I say and hang up my phone. Well, I've hit an all new low, boys and girls. I'm going out with Theodore. They must be serving Popsicles in hell right now.

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Theodore and I sit at the bar in an awkward silence. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking? I'm poking skewers of those fake cherry things into an orange when a drag queen walks by up on the bar. I try to get a peek at her package. Okay, that is so not my thing, but fuck, it's something to do besides stare at fucking Theodore all night.

I finally decide to try and make conversation. "So, how was work?"

I suddenly get a flash of Michael earnestly telling me all about his day at the fucking Big Q. "Fat Marley had this really incredible hickey," he laughs, "and there was this sale on protein powder so every queen in the city was there; except you, of course." I stick out my tongue at him.

The image of Mikey fades and I'm left with Theodore. "Boring," he replies. "Work was boring. How about you?"

Mikey pops back in. "Don't tell me. You took this client to a really fancy restaurant for lunch and there was this really hot waiter, and he signaled for you to meet him in the linen closet, and he gave you this amazing blow job and you went back to the table and the client never knew?"

I smile at him. "How'd you guess?"

I look again and it's just Theodore, sitting there giving me a weird look. "I asked you about work."

"Uh, I took a client to lunch and a waiter blew me in the linen closet."

"Really?" Ted asks in fascination.

And then it's Mikey again. "Liar! You're such a liar!" he laughs.

I chuckle, concentrating on my fucking fruit sculpture and Theodore's back and he shoots me a look that looks like hurt and reproach all at once. He finally speaks again. "So, have you talked to him?"

"Who?"

"Michael."

Wow, I think it took him a whole twenty minutes before he brought that up. "What for?" I ask.

"Oh, for no other reason than he's your best friend."

"Was my best friend."

"Why don't you just call him?"

Fuck. "I told you. He's out of my life and I'm out of his. So would you please shut the fuck up about it?"

A shirtless guy wanders up to us and gets my attention. He looks at me. "Hey, how's it going?"

I look him over, but I'm not in the fucking mood. Fucking Theodore. Fucking Mikey. "I'm not interested," I say to him.

The guy looks away and Ted speaks up. "However, I'm available for safe sex and estate planning." Well, fucking go, Theodore. There might be hope for the loser yet.

"Actually." The guy leans on the bar. "I do have some investment questions." He shoots me a look and you have got to be kidding me.

"Well, I'll tell you what." Theodore looks at the guy. "You help diversify my portfolio and I'll help diversify yours."

Oh my God, that's the lamest fucking thing I've ever heard, but fuck if we aren't heading out of Woody's and Ted isn't leaving with him.

Theodore turns back to me. "You're sure you're okay getting home?"

I light a cigarette. Give me a break. "Yeah, I know the way," I reply.

I turn and see a guy in black leaning against the wall and he's giving me the eye. Eh, I guess he'll do.

He sucks me off in the alley and when we're done, I head out to my Jeep. "Mikey," I call out, letting him know I'm ready to go. I stop short and realize he's not there. Fuck. I get in and drive my fucking self home.

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The next day I find myself standing outside the front door of Casa de la Muncher. I've decided I want to see Gus. No, I'm not avoiding the gym because Mikey's probably there. Don't be stupid.

The door swings open and I'm greeted by the horrifying sight of Smelly Melly in all her Saturday morning muncher glory. "Meet my latest trick," I say, referring to the stuffed bear I'm holding.

She looks at the bear and then back up at me. "I didn't know you were into bears. I thought you were into the young, hairless, not admitted without a parent or guardian type."

I ignore her barb. I hold up the bear and make it speak. "Where's my son?"

"OUR son is taking a nap," she replies coldly.

I move past her into the house. "Well, I thought I'd drop by for dinner."

Melanie follows me into the living room, where Lindsay is standing. "It's two o'clock in the afternoon," Mel points out.

I throw myself on the couch. "Then I'll just hang out."

"Hang out?" Lindsay asks. "Since when do you hang out with the likes of us?"

"Since Michael is out of the picture," Mel retorts. Bitch.

"It's just as well," I play with the bear, not looking at the girls. "Mikey and I were holding on to each other for too long. I mean, when you think about it, what do we even have in common?"

"Your lives," Melanie points out.

"Aside from that," I reply. Lindsay shoots me a look like only she can. "Anyways," I continue. "Things worked out for the best. Thanks to my divine intervention, he's with the good doctor now. Where he belongs."

"I guess it's not too late," Lindsay replies.

"For what?" I ask.

"To fix things," she says.

"Some things are better left broken." I sit up on the couch. "So, what do you say we play a little Scrabble?"

It's not too often I can render two lesbians speechless at once.

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When I can't stand Mel and Lindsay one minute longer, I head back to Woody's. I find a free pool table and begin to shoot.

A potential trick catches my eye, but I shoot him down. "I'm not interested." He turns away.

"Brian, hey," Theodore comes up and places a friendly hand on my shoulder. "How's it going?"

I look up at him. "What do you want?" I sneer.

"To tell you what a great time we had last night," he replies earnestly. A little too fucking earnestly if you ask me.

"I was bored out of my fucking mind," I say as I lean down to take another shot.

"Yeah, well, uh, that's the sign of true friendship," Theodore piles on the bullshit. "That it can accommodate vastly divergent points of view." What the fuck?

Right then another guy catches my eye. "I'm not interested." The guy walks away and I shake my head and move around the table.

"You know, just out of curiosity. How many guys hit on you in a night?" Theodore asks.

I'm trying to play pool here. I don't have time for this shit. "Give or take a hundred and twelve." I shake my head. "I don't know."

"Amazing," I hear Ted mutter. "And I only need one?" Huh?

Another fucking guy approaches the table. I let out an irritated breath. "I'm not interested," I say yet again.

He starts to turn away when Ted suddenly clears his throat. :"Excuse me, uh, you know, uh, tax season is coming up, and you don't want to get caught with your pants down."

I hit the ball hard. Oh fucking brother.

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Justin

It's a busy night at the diner and I'm hopping from table to table. I drop off the last of my orders for a few minutes, pick up my tips from the empty tables, and swing into a booth across from Daphne.

She looks up from her books. "You make a lot of tips," she comments.

"That's cause I'm cute," I reply with a grin.

"And conceited," she adds.

"I could fuck practically anyone I wanted."

"So why don't you?" she retorts. I don't have a ready answer to that and then I notice the door open. Brian. "Never mind," Daphne sighs. "The answer just walked in the door."

Brian moves over to our table and I struggle to maintain a cool exterior.

He looks at me. "Hey." Then he turns to Daph. "How's it going?"

"What, you actually want to know?" I snark.

"Well, I asked, didn't I?" He retorts, and fuck, he looks so fucking sexy. Sometimes I really hate what he does to me.

I lose the attitude. "Everything's fine."

"Good," he replies. "What are you doing tonight?" he finally asks.

Huh? "Huh?" I say out loud.

He snorts. "Are these particularly hard questions?" He leans down into my face. I glance over to Daphne, not quite believing what I'm hearing. Brian speaks again. "Do you want to come over after work?"

Oh my God. Stay cool, Justin. Stay cool. "Really?" I ask. Okay, so not cool. I gather myself. "Sure," I reply. Better.

"I'll have a turkey sandwich," Brian completely changes the subject. "On whole grain, no mayo, to go." He stands up straight and moves over to sit at the counter.

I lean in to Daphne. "Do you realize this is the first time he's ever asked me to come over?" Brian wants me. He fucking wants me with him. I try not to get too excited, but it's not working.

"So, what do you think it means?" Daphne interrupts my thoughts.

At that point, Michael walks in and I watch as he and Brian pointedly ignore each other. I knew it was too good to be true. I really need to stop being such a fucking kid. I finally answer Daphne. "It means that he misses Michael."

"Are those guys really never going to talk to each other again?" she asks.

"Looks that way," I reply.

"So, why don't you talk to them?"

Is she crazy? "Me?" I ask in disbelief.

"Well, I thought you loved Brian and you're staying in Michael's bedroom, which makes you, like, the missing link." I look over at the two men in question and then back to Daphne. I'm not sure about this. I mean, really, what the fuck can I do about it? "Well, go on!" Daphne encourages me.

Fine. I get up and go over to Michael. "Hey, Boy Wonder," he says. "Uh, a couple of lemon squares, to go."

I watch as his gaze slides over to Brian, who is now holding up a newspaper, pretending to read. Oh brother. "Sure," I reply to Michael and move off to get his order. How handy that the tray of lemon bars happen to be right in front of Brian. I start to put them in the container. "Aren't you going to talk to him?" I ask Brian.

Brian is annoyed. "What for?"

"He's right there," I answer.

"Stay the fuck out of it," he replies testily.

I simply raise my eyebrows and walk away. The cook hands me the container with Brian's sandwich in it and I get a brilliant idea. I switch the identical containers. Now, they'll have to talk. I move over to Michael. "You guys should talk," I say as I gesture over to Brian.

"You should mind your own business."

"He's your best friend."

Michael grabs his container from me. "Just give me the lemon bars," he utters as he reaches for his wallet.

"Where's my order?" Brian gripes from his spot at the counter.

I rush it over to him and set it down.

Michael is still standing by the register. "This is a turkey sandwich," He sounds pissed.

Brian opens his box. "These are lemon squares."

Both of them remain firmly in their places, glaring at me. Well, so much for that idea. I quickly make the switch as they throw their money at me and leave.

I make my way back over to Daphne's table. "Well, so much for that idea," she sighs.

I look over at the door where the two stubborn men have just left. "I'll just have to think of something else." I look up at Daphne slyly and she simply smiles.

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When I get to Brian's, he doesn't mention my little snafu at the diner and I'm glad. In fact, he doesn't mention much of anything as he pulls me into the loft. We don't even make it to the bed as he pulls my clothes off and pulls me on top of him on his black chaise lounge. A couple of hot rounds of sex later I mention that I'm hungry.

"When are you not?" Brian rolls his eyes as he answers. I hop off him and make my way to the kitchen. In the freezer, I find a pint of my favorite ice cream. Hmm. Must be left over from when I was staying here. I grab a spoon and turn around.

Brian has settled himself with a bottle of Beam. I take a moment to study his nude form and I have to literally stop myself from going to my bag and pulling out a sketchbook. God, he's so beautiful. I could draw him all day.

I move over to the lounge and straddle Brian's body with my legs, settling my weight on his thighs. "Look what I found," I say, scooping a spoonful of the frozen treat out of the container. "If you're nice I might give you a bite."

"I don't eat that crap and you know it."

"Oh, right," I reply innocently as I dig into the ice cream. I manage to feed Brian bites anyway, in between his swigs of Beam.

Soon I'm digging around in the carton. "One spoonful left," I tell Brian. "Do you want it?"

"No," he replies with a slight grin. "That would be ten more minutes on the stair master." Yeah, like he fucking needs it.

I wave the spoonful of ice cream over his face. "Come on. I want to see you lick it off the spoon." I laugh as ice cream drips onto his face. He's in a really mellow mood and he smiles as he finally opens his mouth and accepts the bite. I lean over and lick the spots where the ice cream has fallen on his skin, and then I move up to kiss him on the lips. "Mmm," I say. "Ice cream kiss." We share another smile. I sit up and toss the spoon back in the carton. "You should eat more, you know. My mom thinks you're too skinny."

He looks at me in disbelief. "Your mom?"

"Mmm hmm," I reply, wiping up a spot of ice cream off his chest and licking my fingers. "She doesn't completely hate you, you know. I told her you were always skinny. Even when you were in high school."

He chuckles at me. "You don't know what I looked like in high school."

Right. "I live in Michael's old room, remember? With all his old high school yearbooks, pictures of you." I laugh and decide to take my life in my own hands. "You were a real geek."

"I was never a geek." He smacks me lightly on the arm.

"Then explain chemistry club."

"That's where I learned to build the bomb to blow up the school." I laugh at him. Christ, only Brian. He looks down at his hand. "But Mikey talked me out of it."

Ahh, the opening I need. "Good thing he was around," I say. Brian shoots me a look, but I decide to push further. "I bet you wish he was here right now."

"Would you shut the fuck up about him?" he snaps.

I laugh again. God, could he be any more obvious. I hop off of him and reach for my underwear. "I bet you're secretly wishing that the phone would ring and that it would be him."

"I said to shut the fuck up!" he yells as he grabs the Beam and takes a long pull. "His life," he starts and then looks away. "Was just going to hang there like a shirt in a closet you never wear."

I pull on my pants. "So, you pushed him away," I reply knowingly.

"It was the only course of action."

I reach for my shirt. "Yeah, but now he hates you." I pull my shirt over my head.

"It's okay," Brian replies, not meeting my eyes. "As long as Mikey's happy."

"God," I say as I pull down my shirt. "You must really love him." I don't think I'm completely successful keeping the envy out of my voice.

"I think it's time for you to go," Brian states.

I chuckle because of course it's time for me to go. I'm hitting a little too close to home with the Michael thing. "It always is," I reply as I walk over to my shoes and gently smack him on the head. "Luckily," I continue as I put on my shoes. "You can't push me away." I lean down so I'm right in his face. "I'm on to you," I tell him. He doesn't have an answer for that one.

I grab my backpack and start to head out when I notice Mikey's Captain Astro comic on the counter. I impulsively decide to take it, hoping that somehow it can help get those two back together.

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I enter the comic book store and sigh in relief. Thank God I finally found him. What a pain in my ass this whole thing is turning out to be.

I move over to where he's standing, perusing a comic and plop my backpack down on the bin between us. "Hi."

Michael glares at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Well, how'd you find me?"

"Well, first I asked your mom, then I called David…"

"Is there anyone you didn't ask?" he sounds annoyed, but I ignore him.

"Then I asked Brian."

He looks back down at his book. "What did you do that for? Look, just butt out! I told you before, this is none of your business."

I know you don't believe me, Michael, but Brian is my business. I ignore Michael again and keep talking. "Yeah, he said that whenever you feel sad or upset, this is where you come. That, just being around all these comics brings the light into your eyes." Fuck, I can't believe I just said that.

Michael looks up at me. "He said that?"

"I guess he knows you pretty well," I reply.

"Well, he doesn't know me anymore."

I open my backpack. "Yeah, that is why he got you this." I pull out the Captain Astro comic and hold it out to him.

"I told him already, I don't want his crummy present," he says as he walks away from me.

"Wait," I call out as I hurry after him. "He misses you." I step in close. "He's miserable without you."

"Well good! He deserves to be."

I look at him and take a deep breath. "He loves you. He'll never admit it but he does."

"Brian doesn't love anyone. He doesn't believe in love, remember?"

Well, ouch. That hurt more than I expected it to. I look back up at Michael. "You're the exception. That's why he hurt you so you'd go back with David. He knew if he didn't, you'd be waiting for him forever."

"That's bullshit!" he exclaims.

I hold up the comic. "This was his way of saying good-bye."

Bingo! I think we finally have comprehension, folks. Michael finally takes the comic and gazes at it.

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Brian

I'm sitting in Babylon having a pretty fucking miserable time. Okay, I admit it. I've been feeling like shit and then Justin had to go and make it worse the other night with his little Mikey pep talk. Fucking little twink! Christ, I don't even feel like going to the back room.

I scan the club and what the fuck? It's like planet night or some fucking thing. The dancers are all holding these glow in the dark collapsible ball things. Who comes up with this shit?

I sense someone looking at me and I turn and there's fucking Michael standing there. Shit! I stand up, not even looking at him. "What are you doing here? You're married now." I take a drink of my beer.

"I can still look," he replies.

"Yeah, well, what's the good of looking if you can't touch?" He gives me a little grin. I sigh. "Want a beer?"

He slips right back into our roles. "How many have you had?"

"A few."

"Too many," he says knowingly.

"Keep track of the doctor. Not me," I retort.

"I never thanked you for my gift."

"Your gift?" I question.

"Your ward tracked me down and insisted that I take it."

Fucking kid. Can't he leave anything alone? "Yeah, well, I'll have to punish him severely."

"It's the neatest thing I ever got," Michael adds.

"I thought so."

He looks at me. "You wanna dance?" I shrug and he grabs my jacket, pulling me onto the floor. "It felt weird not talking to you," he says as we begin to move.

"Well, I never thought about it."

He laughs like a goon. "I heard you were freaking out."

Fuck. "Yeah? Who told you that?"

"Everybody; Ted, Lindsay…"

"Well, they're pathological liars," I interrupt him. "I wouldn't trust them."

"You are so busted!"

I change the subject. "So, how's the happy couple?"

"Are you really interested?"

"Not in the slightest," I reply with a grin.

He bobs his head. "It's gonna be fine. Except he doesn't know that Superman almost died in the crisis on Infinite Earth, or that Batgirl is now in a wheelchair after being raped by the Joker, or…"

"Or for that one special day in 1970, Captain Astro became, Astro Woman?" I finish for him.

"Exactly," he replies with a big smile.

"You are so pathetic."

"Hey!" someone calls to us from the bar and one of the balls comes flying at us.

Michael catches it and I take it from him and open it, placing it over both our heads. "Give it time," I say to him. "He'll learn."

He smiles at me again and I think I will have to punish Justin, but maybe in a good way.

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