Rage Over Hollywood

Chapter 8

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They spent most of Sunday in bed, watching TV between bouts of animalistic fucking and gentle lovemaking. They were both booked on a Monday afternoon flight to Pittsburgh and were looking forward to spending the coming week together… or the week together coming.

Since he didn't plan to be there long, Justin invited Brian to accompany him to the studio on Monday morning. It was the perfect opportunity to give his lover a tour of where he'd be working the next few months.

When they arrived at Brett's office, he rose to greet the two men.

"Good to see you again, Brian," Brett smiled as he shook the ad exec's hand.

"Brett," Brian said, returning the handshake. "This is quite the setup you have here."

Brett shrugged. "It's a place to get the work done," he said modestly.

Brian had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He hadn't been a big fan of Keller's from the first time he'd met the man; something about him just struck Brian as shifty. Of course, after the incident at Keller's party when Justin got hurt, a slight dislike had turned to deep resentment. Justin had been pushed off a fucking balcony and Brian wasn't about to forget who'd done the pushing. Nor was he liable to forgive the fact that Keller had pushed Justin while attempting to save his own skin. He'd be civil to the director, for Justin's sake, but that didn't mean he had to like him.

Turning his attention to Justin, Brett greeted him with a hug like he usually did, garnering a raised eyebrow from Brian. "What did you need to show me?" Justin asked once he was released.

"Right," Brett said moving once again to his desk. "You already have a copy of the revised script, so I thought Michael might like one too."

"I'm sure he would," Justin replied with a smile.

"And I wanted you to look over the boards for downtown Gayopolis one more time. Richard has already seen them and didn't see a problem, but he values your opinion and asked if you'd look at them before you leave."

"Is he here?"

"No. Since Rage is on hold for the moment, he's working on another project as the assistant art director."

Justin nodded and carefully studied the boards. "I don't see anything wrong with these at all," he said, handing them back to Brett. "Of course, after sending them back three times, there shouldn't be."

"Tell me about it," Brett scoffed. "Sometimes I wonder where these artists get their so-called diplomas." As though suddenly realizing what he said, he looked somewhat contritely in Justin's direction. "No offense."

"None taken," Justin assured him with a smile. Holding out the keys, he said, "Thanks for the loan of the car. I left it in the underground garage."

"If you need it to get to the airport, I can always have someone pick it up out there," Brett suggested.

"Thanks, but we'll just take a cab," Brian said with a fake smile.

Justin had to stifle one of his own. It was so painfully obvious that Brian didn't like Keller, but he did make an effort to hide it for Justin's sake. "We have to go back to the apartment for our things anyway, so we'll just get a cab from there when we're ready."

"Suit yourself," Brett shrugged, dropping the keys into his desk drawer.

"Anything new on Victor?" Justin asked.

"No change," Brett answered regretfully. "The security camera was damaged in the fire, but they think they may be able to salvage enough of the tape to maybe get an idea of who did this. If it turns out to be the same guy who attacked you, they may want you to testify."

"It was hardly an attack," Justin said, glancing in Brian's direction. "But if he turns out to be the one who hurt Victor, I'll gladly testify."

"Well," Brett said, looking around on his desk. "I don't think there's anything else that needs your attention at the moment. I have your home number and email if I need to get in touch with you." Looking up at both men, he smiled, then directed his words at Justin. "Enjoy your week off, despite the circumstances."

"I will. Thanks," Justin replied. After saying goodbye to the director, they exited the office.

Justin had called Sandy the day before to tell her of his plans. She'd made him promise to stop by her office before he left. She claimed it was to wish him a good trip, but he suspected she was mostly curious about meeting Brian. "We need to stop by Sandy's office, don't forget," he reminded his lover.

"I didn't forget, Sunshine," Brian assured him. "Lead the way."

Justin knocked on the open office door before stepping inside. "You busy?" he asked the young woman.

"Never too busy for you," she said, getting to her feet and moving from behind the desk to hug him. "I'm going to miss you, you know."

"Me too," Justin said, returning the hug. "But I'll be back in a week."

Sandy released him and turned in Brian's direction.

"Sandy, this is my partner, Brian Kinney. Brian, Sandy Prescott."

"Nice to meet you." Brian smiled as he extended his hand. "Justin's told me a lot about you."

"Not as much as he's told us about you, I'm sure," she replied, returning both the smile and the handshake.

Brian raised an eyebrow and Justin rolled his eyes. Christ, between Mrs. Turner and Sandy, Brian was going to think he talked of nothing else. "I think your name may have come up a time or two," he said with a smirk.

"Uh huh," Brian countered, tongue firmly planted in his cheek.

Sandy laughed. "To be fair, we did run the gamut of topics in the last week or so," she said. "Justin and I share many of the same interests."

"I'm glad," Brian said with a smile. "Justin told me what you did when he was confronted at the apartment building. Good thinking."

She blushed modestly. "Aside from taking off one of my high heels and beating on them, there really wasn't anything else I could have done."

"You may have stopped it from going further than it did," he pointed out. "We both appreciate your efforts."

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?"

Sandy whirled to face Steve who was standing in the doorway with a grin. "Stevie!" she exclaimed, crossing the floor to hug him. "You're back."

"Good God, woman, I've only been gone a few days."

"Yeah, well, Justin had Brian here for the weekend so I was forced to entertain myself," she mock pouted. "Steve, this is Justin's partner, Brian Kinney. Brian, Steve Barlow, my roommate, best friend and lifelong pal."

Justin watched as Steve turned toward where he and Brian stood. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that could only be recognition. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed. "You two know each other?"

His smile faded quickly as he saw Brian's gaze begin to flit everywhere except in his direction. Looking back at Steve, he noticed the man had paled, and the grey eyes that met Justin's were pained.

"Brian?" Justin asked quietly. When Brian finally looked at him, he saw the truth in his eyes. "No way." He looked back at Steve's guilty face. "No fucking way!"

"Justin," Brian said quietly, trying to calm the young man before he worked himself up any further.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Brian," Justin ground out, his voice tinged with anger and pain.

Sandy put her hand on Justin's arm. "Justin?"

As though suddenly remembering where he was, he turned to Sandy. "I'm sorry," he whispered. Without another word, he was gone, oblivious to two male voices calling his name in unison.

Sandy looked between the two men. "You need to talk," she said shortly. "And you'd better come up with a way to fix this." On that angry note, she left her office, closing the door firmly behind her.

Brian looked at Steve briefly and then moved past him toward the door.

"Wait a minute," Steve said, causing Brian to stop, but not turn. "We both just hurt one of the nicest people I've ever met, and you're just going to walk out without saying a fucking word?"

Brian turned to sneer in his direction. "I'm not in the habit of making conversation with tricks." With that, he started to open the door, only to have it slammed shut by a strong hand beside his head. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the other man.

"I may be a trick to you, but I'm also Justin's friend," Steve seethed. "I can't believe that doesn't mean anything to you."

"Any explaining I do, I'll do to Justin," Brian informed him coldly.

Steve dropped his hand from the door, his shoulders slumping imperceptibly. "But will you? Will you explain anything or will you just give him the standard 'it's none of your business who I fuck' routine and expect him to be satisfied with that?"

"You don't know anything about me and Justin," Brian bit back angrily.

"I know more than you think," Steve countered. "Justin told me all about your stud of Liberty Ave. reputation. You think I've never met men like you? Hell, Brian, I've *been* you at one point."

Brian took a step forward until he was in the other man's face. "I don't give a flying fuck who you've met or what you've been. You want to compare conquests? Reputations? We can do that some other time. Right now, my only concern is getting to my partner. If you were any type of friend to him at all, you'd understand that."

Steve was slightly taken aback by the man's anger and hoped it stemmed from a real concern for his partner. "You're right," he said. "Justin's the most important thing right now." He paused for a moment. "You have to know, I never realized, Brian. I never would have hurt him that way."

Brian could see genuine anguish in the grey eyes and knew the man really did care for Justin. "Me neither," he said quietly.

Steve only nodded and gestured toward the door. Brian regarded him in silence for a second, then turned and left the office.

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Sandy caught up with Justin as he was crossing through the lobby toward the doors. "Justin, wait!" she called, not caring who overheard.

In deference to the fact that Sandy was innocent in the whole thing, Justin stopped and turned to face her. She had to swallow a gasp when she saw the devastated look on his face.

"I'm sorry, but I can't talk about this right now," he said, struggling to maintain the tenuous grip he still had on his emotions. Turning from her, he pushed through the doors into the sunlight.

She was still standing there when Brian approached a couple of moments later. He stopped briefly in front of her.

"He left," she said simply.

He nodded. "It was nice to meet you." As she watched the second distraught man leave, she realized there was still a third waiting in her office. With a sigh, she turned to head back, hoping she'd be able to offer some comfort to at least one of them.

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Justin was packing his things when Brian arrived at the apartment. Though the younger man heard him come in, he didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. After twenty minutes of silence in which Justin finished his task, Brian thought it best to try to clear the air.

"Justin…"

His lover turned to face him, his eyes sparkling with anger. "I don't want to talk about this right now," he hissed between clenched teeth.

Brian nodded, hoping that he just needed time to come to terms with his emotions.

"I'll grab my sketchbooks, you call the cab," Justin said flatly as he turned toward his desk.

The cold silence persisted throughout the ride to the airport and the wait to board. Once in the air, Justin placed his headphones on, indicating that he still wasn't interested in talking. Brian was growing irritated by the behaviour, but knew that the plane wasn't the place to get into it, even if he could get the other man talking.

He hadn't made arrangements for anyone to pick them up from the airport, wanting to spend as much time alone with Justin as he could before the rest of the family moved in to claim their time with the artist. He realized it was probably just as well since it would have been obvious to anyone that there was a problem.

When the taxi dropped them off in front of the building on Tremont, Justin grabbed his bag and headed for the door without waiting for Brian to pay the driver. With a heavy sigh, Brian grabbed his own luggage and followed his angry partner up the stairs.

Once in the loft, however, Brian was determined to put an end to the silence. "Justin, I didn't know who he was. Christ, you didn't even know him at the time!"

Justin turned from where he stood looking out the window and posed the question uppermost on his mind. "When?"

Now that they were talking, Brian found himself wishing for the silence again. He didn't want to have to answer the question, but knew Justin deserved the truth. "Last time we were in L.A.," he said quietly. "You were in the hospital and…"

"While I was in the fucking hospital?! Jesus Christ, Brian!"

"You didn't let me finish," Brian said angrily. "You were in the hospital and I'd just heard what you said to Mikey about not wanting me to stay. I felt like shit, Justin. I thought I'd lost you. I went down the hall and puked my guts out, then came back to give Mikey money for cab fare to the hotel."

"And then what?" Justin demanded. "On the way out of the hospital your dick just happened to run into Steve's ass?"

"I went to the hotel bar for a drink. There were some guys there having some sort of meeting. He kept looking over at me, giving me that look, so when the meeting broke up, I took him upstairs."

"So while Michael was taking me back to the hotel, telling me how much you loved me, you were a few doors down fucking my friend?"

"He wasn't your friend then…"

"That's not the point!"

"That's exactly the point!" Brian retorted, his own anger growing. "At the time he was just another trick. Just a fuck. It didn't mean anything!"

"Not to you! But now I've lost one of the few friends I have!"

"Cut the drama, Justin," Brian shot back. "You can still be friends."

Justin couldn't believe what he was hearing and barked out a short laugh. "What?! You think I can ever look at him again without picturing him with you? I'd go out of my fucking mind, Brian!"

Brian realized he really couldn't argue that point. He doubted he'd be able to socialize with one of Justin's tricks. "What do you want me to do, Justin?" he asked, his voice having lost most of its anger. "It's not like I can undo it, now."

Justin sighed wearily. He knew neither Brian nor Steve had set out to betray him intentionally. He'd had a lot of time to think about it on the plane and was glad for the time to be able to sort things out in his head before asking for any of the details. Truth be told, Steve was just a trick to Brian, no different than a nameless fuck in the backroom of Babylon. And Justin hadn't even known Steve when they fucked. There had been an internal battle going on inside his head all the way home. He really had no right to be hurt or angry.

But he was both. And what hurt the most was knowing that his friendship with Steve would never be the same. At the same time, he knew that he and Brian would make it through, and that really was the most important thing.

"I know," he admitted sadly. "I just … I really thought Steve and I could be friends, you know? Aside from Daphne, everybody I hang out with is your friend."

"They may have been my friends first, but they're our friends now," Brian pointed out. With a wry smile, he added, "Hell, most of them like you better, anyway."

"I didn't say they didn't have taste," Justin mumbled.

Brian was silent, wondering if the attempt at levity meant that the worst was over.

"It's just not going to be the same now," Justin sighed.

He realized that was probably true and did feel bad for that. The only thing he could do now was try to make his partner feel better. "If it would make us even, you could fuck one of my friends."

"Ewwww!" Justin exclaimed, scrunching up his nose. "Don't even joke about that, Brian."

Brian walked toward him and slipped his arms around his waist. "Or you could fuck Steve," he suggested once again.

"I hardly think that's a solution," Justin huffed, though he put his hands on Brian's hips to complete the connection.

'Then what?" Brian asked, pressing his forehead to Justin's. "What's going to fix this?"

"Nothing," Justin answered truthfully. "Like you said, nothing can undo it now. But I can deal. I'll always wish it hadn't happened though."

"Me too," Brian admitted uncharacteristically.

Justin pulled back to study his face and saw that he meant it. Offering a wan smile, he said, "You know, it wasn't that long ago something like this would have had me running back to Daphne's."

"It wasn't that long ago I would have told you to leave if you didn't like who I was fucking."

"In either case, we'd both be alone and miserable, and seven hours of not speaking to you is still preferable to seven hours without you."

That statement took Brian completely off guard. Justin had a knack for making him examine things that he'd normally avoid looking at too closely, and when he did, he often found something he hadn't been expecting. A five hour flight with a pissed Justin was better than a one hour flight without him. Rather than voice that sentiment, he smiled slightly and gave his usual response in such situations where emotion threatened to take over.

"Twat."

Justin smiled back, his lover's gentle tone making the word more endearment than insult.

"You should probably call Steve," Brian suggested, hoping that he wasn't reigniting the argument by bringing up the man's name. "I'm sure he's worried about you."

"He had sex with my boyfriend," Justin reminded him. "He can worry until tomorrow."

Brian raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic attitude.

Justin's voice softened considerably. "I just can't talk to him right now," he admitted.

Brian nodded and sucked his lips between his teeth. "Are we OK?" he finally asked reluctantly. God, he sounded like one of those dickless fags he was forever making fun of. The scariest part was, he really needed to know.

Justin offered a small smile. It wasn't one of his best by any means, but it was better than anger or tears. In a quiet but confident voice, he answered the question. "I guess we'll have to be. I'm through with running."

They spent the evening alone in the loft, knowing that they had the rest of the week to see everyone else. While the worst of the crisis had passed, Justin was still somewhat subdued and Brian got the distinct impression that he wasn't interested in participating in their usual pastime. It was almost like he was grieving and in a way Brian supposed he was. Steve had been a potentially good friend and that was now tainted, maybe forever, by something as unimportant as a quick fuck. Feeling that he owed his lover some time, he agreed to take-out and a movie rather than the fuckfest they'd normally have to celebrate the first night together in the loft after a month apart.

When they got into bed later that night, Justin kept to his own side, though he still turned so that he faced Brian.

"C'mere," Brian whispered, lifting one arm so that Justin could take his usual position at his side.

"I just want to sleep, Brian," Justin said almost tentatively.

"I know, Twat. Just come here."

With a smile, Justin moved closer, snuggling in to Brian's side, his head on his shoulder, one arm around his waist. Brian lowered his arm over the smaller man's body pulling him just a little tighter before kissing the top of his head. "Go to sleep, Sunshine."

With a contented sigh, Justin closed his eyes and did just that.

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