Convincing Michael

Brian stormed out of the restaurant, pissed off and swearing under his breath. Fuck, he couldn't believe his friends' reaction to their announcement. Actually, he *could* believe it—he had just hoped, for once, they would see the reasoning behind his actions and fucking have a little faith in him.

He should have known better.

He leaned against the 'Vette's hood, propping his foot against the headlight. The only thing preventing him from heading off to Babylon or to the loft—being anywhere but here—was the fact Justin was still inside. Brian realized the blond was a big boy and could get himself home, but leaving him here would be a really shitty thing to do—bad enough he'd abandoned him inside the restaurant with their weird little family.

Ignoring the sound of footsteps behind him, Brian pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Drawing the smoke deep into his lungs, he stared off into the darkness, not turning around. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Why did you do it?"

Ah, Mikey. Brian had wondered who would be chosen to be the sacrificial lamb, sent out to the slaughter. "Do you care?"

"I wouldn't be out here if I didn't, asshole." Michael stood in front of the brunet, removing the cigarette from Brian's hand. He took a drag, then handed it back. "So, explain. Why let things get this far, then call it off?"

Brian's eyes shifted to the glowing tip, seemingly fascinated with the smoke curling around the end of the cigarette and wafting away in the breeze. "We *mutually* agreed it wasn't necessary."

Michael snorted disbelievingly, "Oh yeah, right. You're trying to tell me *Justin* doesn't want to get married. *Please*. He's been chasing after you for years." He reached for the cigarette again, flicking the ashes onto the pavement. "You know, you're going to end up losing the kid with this fucked up little waltz you insist on dancing with him. One step forward and two steps back, never progressing anywhere."

An arm snaked around Brian's waist as Justin stated to Michael, "Hate to disillusion you, Michael, but there's *no fucking way* Brian's ever going to be rid of me. He's stuck with me for life."

"Kinda like a prison sentence." Brian smirked, sharing a look of understanding with the younger man. "The old ball and chain."

Justin smiled brightly up at his lover then shifted his attention to Michael. His look of happiness began to fade as he tried to clarify what happened inside. "Brian and I had a long talk before coming to the dinner tonight. We decided, *together*, to call off the wedding. We love each other and we feel that what's between us is private. Someday, we might be willing to share with everyone else, but for now…"

Michael studied the couple in front of him, seeing, as if for the first time, the deep connection between the two men. Justin looked to the more-worldly ad man for guidance in the day-to-day bullshit that came their way while Brian depended on the blond to rescue him whenever he was caught up in emotional quicksand. They balanced each other—neither one was truly complete without the other. Michael silently acknowledged that the bond between his best friend and his business partner was at least as strong as his and Ben's, if not stronger.

He smiled and offered, "I'll hold off the rampaging hordes for you while you make your escape. You'd better lock the doors to the loft so you won't be invaded later." Michael hugged both men as he asked, "Are we going to Babylon this weekend?"

"Nah, Mikey—while we might have canceled the wedding, we're *definitively* not postponing the honeymoon. My partner and I will see you sometime next week." Brian smiled down at the blond as Justin grabbed his hand and stepped closer to his body.

Michael laughed as he headed toward the restaurant. Reaching the entrance, he turned around, planning to wish his friends good luck. The words died unborn as he took in the sight before him.

They were a study in opposites—light versus dark; tall versus compact; youthful exuberance versus mature wisdom—yet the passionate but tender kiss they were presently involved in proved beyond any doubt that they were a perfect fit.

No, his friends didn't need his best wishes—they already had what they needed—each other.

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