Eternal Triangle

Dreaming of You

March 20, 2007-Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

The bell on the diner's door rang merrily on Friday at dinnertime as Brian entered. He walked toward the gang's usual booth, tossing a brusque, "Coffee, Deb," over his shoulder to the busy redhead. She gave him a pointed hand signal as he slid into the seat. He smirked back at her then turned his attention to the three men at the table, who were already busy eating.

Ted and Emmett were bickering about whether to hit Babylon that night for their 'Studs 'N Suds' or try out a new club that had recently opened nearby.

Emmett looked over at Brian and asked, "So, Brian, what are you up for tonight? Hot, wet, nearly naked men or a fresh new meat market?

Brian opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by Michael's voice, "Oh, he's coming over to my place-we're going to have a Ewan McGregor film marathon tonight." Michael turned to the ad man sitting next to him and pleaded, "Right, Brian? I thought I would pick up the movies from the video place after I close up the comic book shop tonight and grab some take-out for us as well."

"Gee, thanks Mikey. I'm so touched you're maintaining my social calendar these days." Brian sneered sarcastically, "However, as peachy as all that sounds, I need to take a rain check. I have other plans for tonight."

"Other plans? Do you need to work tonight? Maybe I can come over and hang out at the loft while you're busy." Michael was almost begging.

"Naw, Mikey-tonight I'm going hunting for a piece of blond boy ass."

"What? You're seeing Justin? What about me? You want me to stay home… by myself…" Tears were glistening in his brown eyes as Michael lightly touched Brian's hand, "Come on, Brian, Justin will understand. I really don't want to be alone-I get so…"

Brian squeezed his friend's hand, then gently pulled away. "Justin might understand, but my dick doesn't. It wants to see Justin, so that's what's on the agenda. Gotta keep the cock happy, you know."

Ted and Emmett carefully watched the interaction between the two other men. They were both aware of the strain in Brian and Justin's relationship-and the main cause, as well. Emmett decided to jump in, "How is our little ray of Sunshine these days, anyway? We haven't seen him around Babylon or Woody's lately. I miss dancing with him-nobody in our little group dances like he does."

Ted interjected, "Don't you mean no one else is willing to be seen with you on the dance floor? You and your Hail Jesus moves." He smiled at the thought of Emmett's flamboyant style, both on and off the dance floor. Turning to the young man's lover, he asked, "How is Justin feeling? Last time I saw him, he looked exhausted. He's also lost weight."

Brian nodded thoughtfully. He had been aware of the blond's slowly deteriorating physical condition, but felt frustrated, unable to help. Ever since Justin left, he had avoided Brian, both at work and around Liberty Avenue. "I've noticed. Unfortunately, Justin's trying to deal with whatever is bothering him by himself and won't discuss it with me." Brian silently admitted to himself that he already knew part of the problem-he just didn't know how to handle it.

After Ben's death, Michael had depended on Brian's presence in order to make it through the first few difficult months. Brian and Justin had made sure to include the grieving man in their activities-well, most of them, Brian snickered-but about three months ago, Brian had seen a change in Michael's attitude. His best friend began suggesting that the two of them should spend more time alone together. At first, the two lovers went along with it, thinking it was just another stage in the mourning process.

Brian knew his partner had been more than patient with the situation-however, Justin's tolerance wasn't infinite and eventually, he snapped. Brian was now trapped between the blond's justifiable anger and his friend's need for support.

"Well, you asshole, you need to make him talk to you. He looks like shit." Brian was startled by the sound of Debbie's voice hissing into his ear. He glanced up at her, not realizing she had been listening to the conversation. "He's going to make himself sick if he keeps pushing himself this way."

"Fuck Debbie, what do you want me to do? Tie him up and make him listen to me?"

The exuberant waitress smirked and gestured to Ted and Emmett to move over, sliding into the booth across from Brian. "No, you little shit, if you tied him up, you wouldn't ever get around to solving the problem-you'd be too busy fucking. Corner him-take him out somewhere and force him to talk."

"Shit Ma, leave Brian alone. Justin's a big boy-he can take care of himself." Michael was upset. Everyone was focused on Boy Wonder's problems and ignoring his own.

"Shut up, Michael." His mom glared at him then continued her rant, "You know he's been avoiding the gang, he's been coming into the diner when the rest of you aren't around. That isn't healthy."

Michael sat in the booth, fuming. Shit, even his own mother put Justin first. He had been quite happy with the way things were working out-Justin out of the loft, away from the group and apparently out of Brian's life as well. Until Brian's announcement about his plans for tonight, that is. Michael needed to figure out a way to stop that.

Brian belonged with him-that had become evident to Michael the past few months. He had loved Ben and still missed him, but the time he had been spending with Brian had reawakened his long-suppressed desire for the sexy man.

Emmett quietly suggested, "Perhaps I should talk to him. Brian might be too close to the problem, if you know what I mean." The colorful queen gave Michael a level look.

Michael glared at Emmett. "What the fuck do you mean by that?" he burst out. There was no way he was the problem-the fucking ex-twink was just acting like a drama princess to get attention, like always.

"Oh, nothing, Mikey. Sometimes an outsider is a better person to open up to, that's all I'm saying." Emmett glanced at Brian as he stood up. "You off, Brian?"

"Yeah." The brunette threw some money onto the table then admitted, "Emmett, you might be right, as much as it pains me to say. Justin hasn't exactly been… friendly toward me lately." He looked at Debbie and asked, "You're having a family dinner at your house on Sunday, right? Maybe I can drag him over there-he'll talk to you as well."

"Sure, sweetie. You bring him and between Emmett and me, we'll worm it out of him." She smiled at Brian as he started to leave.

Brian took a step away from the booth then turned, "Mikey, I'll talk to you, tomorrow." He emphasized the last word, hoping to get through to his friend. When Michael slowly nodded, he smiled and headed out of the diner.

He had some hunting to do.

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Justin sat at his drawing table at Kinnetik, tiredly rubbing his eyes. The account he was working on was due on Monday and he was behind on the artwork for it. It wouldn't matter to Brian if his-what the fuck was he to the brunette these days, anyway? Lover? Partner? Ex?-was the one responsible, if the account was screwed up, Brian would have his ass. Not in a positive, life affirming way, either.

He glanced at the clock, noting it was already eight p.m. Shit, he wouldn't get out of here until midnight at the earliest. Maybe if he rested his eyes for a few minutes, inspiration would strike and he could get this board finished at least. He pushed aside the artwork in front of him, crossed his arms, wearily resting his head upon them and closed his eyes. He was asleep within seconds.

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November 12, 1777-Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The blond apprentice slammed the door as he stormed out of his family's home and headed toward the center of town, 'They don't understand. How can we, in good conscience, stand by as our city is occupied by the British?'

Josiah Thayer and his father agreed that the British needed to leave Philadelphia, where they had been living the high life since September-however, Peter Thayer did not believe the family should become involved with the colonists' struggle for independence. A devout Quaker, he firmly believed that war was not the answer.

Josiah, both young and passionate, felt differently. In the past two months, he watched as his friends and colleagues fled the City of Brotherly Love, rather than stand up to General Howe and his redcoats. Even Paul Hazeltine, the man to whom he was apprenticed, had left, leaving Josiah without a master silversmith to study under. He was still able to practice on some small pieces, but without someone to guide him, he wasn't making much progress.

Reaching the town green, Josiah cautiously looked around before sitting down beneath a large chestnut tree near the edge of the green. Once he was sure there were no soldiers loitering about, he drew a folded newspaper from his waistcoat and painstakingly unfolded it, smoothing out the creases. He was soon immersed in the rebellious words printed within.

Josiah didn't know for sure, but he suspected that even possessing a copy of 'The Liberty Crier' would be enough to get him arrested. He was aware that the printer, one Brendon MacKeni, was currently wanted by General Howe and his men for printing what was, to a British Loyalist, seditious material. Josiah believed the writing was inspired.

The articles pointed out the various rights the colonists had lost under British rule. The writer stated that a man had to do what a man had to do, and that publishing the facts about the current political atmosphere was his way of standing up to the oppression currently running rampant throughout the colonies.

Josiah sighed as he finished the last article. He carefully refolded the paper and placed it back in his pocket. The young man felt that Mr. MacKeni was a hero, a man willing to give up everything for what he believed in, and wished he could be the same way.

Looking up at the sun, he realized there were still several hours until supper. He took out his sketchbook from his knapsack and settled himself more comfortably under the tree, prepared to sketch until it was time to go home.

His thoughts wandered as his charcoal flew across the blank page in front of him. He began sketching some caricatures, all showing General Howe and the good King George III in ridiculous situations. Josiah suddenly smiled-maybe this was the way he could stand up to the British-political cartoons. He quickly finished the ones he had started, then closed his sketchbook. It was time to look for the elusive Mr. MacKeni.

Josiah hadn't lived in Philadelphia his whole life for nothing. He had a general idea where the printer might be hiding. He casually walked through the busy streets, heading toward the warehouse section. Once there, he began to question the suspicious workers, hoping to pinpoint Mr. MacKeni's whereabouts. He finally spotted an acquaintance; one he knew was a follower of the rebels. After a quick conversation, he found himself in a narrow alleyway, standing in front of a worn wooden door. He knocked firmly and waited for a response.

The door eventually opened a sliver, allowing the man standing there to see out. Josiah heard a whiney voice ask, "What do you want?"

The young apprentice responded quietly, "I'm looking for Mr. MacKeni. Malachi Hutchinson told me where to find him. I have something he might be interested in for his newspaper."

The door closed and Josiah stood there, unsure whether to wait or leave. Finally deciding it was fruitless to stay, he turned to depart. Just then, the door opened again and he looked up into a pair of hazel eyes…

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March 20, 2007-Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Justin's eyes fluttered open slowly and he looked up into a pair of hazel eyes gazing steadily back at him. Shit, he must have fallen asleep at his drawing table and he'd had another dream. "Shit!"

"Justin, are you okay?" Brian was concerned-he'd never known Justin to fall asleep while working.

"Yeah, I think so." He sat up and rubbed his eyes to clear them. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten. I've been looking for you for hours."

"Fuck! Goddamn it, I'll never get this shit done at this rate." Justin frantically pulled the abandoned artwork back in front of him and reached for a pen. Brian's comment about looking for him finally sank into his tired brain. "What do you mean, looking for me?"

Brian reached over and gently removed the pen from Justin's grip. "I think you've done enough for tonight. You need to get some rest-that's obvious from the fact you fell asleep at your desk. Come on, I'll take you home. We can talk on the way."

Justin was confused. Brian hadn't approached him since he'd moved out of the loft, and yet here he was, saying he had been out trying to find him. "Where's your faithful sidekick?" he asked bitterly.

"Not now, Justin. First things first. You're probably starving, right?" Brian smiled at the question-he'd never known Justin to turn down food. His smile switched to a frown when Justin shook his head.

"No, not really. I haven't been very hungry lately." Justin ran his fingers through his longish blond hair, thoughts racing through his head. He really needed to get back to the apartment and record his latest dream before he forgot the details, but if Brian wanted to spend time with him…

"Well, hungry or not, you're still going to eat. Rumor Central has reported to me that you haven't been taking care of yourself. That shit's gonna stop, right now." Brian gathered Justin's coat and messenger bag and gestured toward the door. "Come on, Sunshine. Get your bubble butt in gear."

Nodding, Justin slid off his drafting stool and reached for his jacket. "Okay, Brian, you're right, as usual." The blond moved to edge past his lover, but was stopped when an arm slid around his waist.

"No, I'm not always right-in fact, lately I've been very wrong about some things. However, that shit's gonna stop as well." Brian smiled down at the young man in his arms and softly kissed the upturned lips. "Now, let's get you fed."

The two men exited the building and headed toward Brian's car. There were many things they needed to discuss and now seemed like the perfect opportunity.

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