"I can’t believe you’re finally here!"

I know I’m squealing like a stuck pig, but his plane was due six hours ago. That’s a long time to be trapped in this dingy concourse, watching the rain beat down on the glass in sheets. I know I could’ve gone home to wait, but visibility was for shit and with my luck, I would’ve just had to turn right around and come back again. They kept delaying his flight in hourly increments so how was I supposed to know it would end up being six total before he was finally able to land?

But it doesn’t matter now. He looks amazing in his tight tank top and worn jeans, barely a hair out of place, even though I know he was a total ass the whole flight—it’s just his way. And I swear, right there he picks me up and swings me around, ignoring the complaints of other travelers who get cut off or accidentally kicked, and it’s like he’s physically lifting the clouds away too. The sun finally peeks through and I’m laughing and squinting as it blinds me and warms my face.

Just like his kiss on my cheek as he sets me down. "I missed you too, Princess," he blows in my ear before picking up his bag again and steering us toward the escalator to the parking garage.

I’m weaving a little, dizzy from twirling around and from having him back in town for a few days. He smirks, the bastard, and slips his arm around my waist to keep me from tipping over. Ah, hell, I let him, without even saying anything about the smug attitude. It’s not like he doesn’t know I have a crush on him. Hell, the whole family knows. I’ve been in love with him for years. Ever since his mom married my uncle and we became sort of like cousins.

I wish it was kissing cousins, but unfortunately, he’s gay, dammit. So, like every other woman in the world, I lust after Brian Kinney like there’s no tomorrow because, well, there isn’t. Not for us. But some lucky guy, like that skycap he’s making eyes at, will wake up next to him in the morning.

Lucky fuck.

***

"Come on, Daph, no fucking way," Brian growls as the taxi turns onto my street.

I’ve spent the entire ride from the airport trying to convince him to do me this teensy favor, and of course, he’s being a selfish prick. I love him to pieces, but he’s a dick most of the time. How easily that’s forgotten when he’s gone for so long between visits. He lives in Pittsburgh now, a schmancy ad man, and only comes home for family reunions, funerals, weddings, and Christmas—if we’re lucky.

"Jesus, Brian, I’m not asking you to fuck him, it won’t even cut into your club time later. Just talk to him for a few minutes. Let me know what you think."

He’s still glaring at me. "It’s not like I have X-ray vision that can see the queer gene," he snipes.

That makes me laugh. "No, but you sure can tell if someone’s hard for you from twenty yards away. And if you’re in the room and he’s gay, he’ll DEFINITELY react."

Brian’s preening a little from the compliment, but still shaking his head. "Why don’t you just ask him?" he says, again, obviously distracted by some paper blowing along the curb as we pull up in front of my building. I noticed he was really only half here with me this whole time, but I’ll get into that later.

"Because he won’t tell me," I explain, again, losing patience as we get out of the cab and pay our fare. "I don’t think HE knows! He’s totally in denial! Isn’t it your duty as a fellow fag to help him see his true path?"

Brian snorts and heads into the building. "My only duty is to my dick. I’m going to shower and then I’m heading to the baths."

Does he realize the redundancy of that statement, I wonder?

"After that," he continues as I slip my key in the lock and open the door, "I’m going to Steny’s, then Boot Camp—it’s still there right?" I nod. "Good, it’s got the hottest fucking guys I’ve ever seen…and that backroom. Jesus," he sighs, rubbing his stomach like he’s hungry and getting ready for a big Thanksgiving feast. "Only then, will I be able to remotely stand being anywhere near that cunt this weekend," he finishes as he slumps on the arm of my sofa, waiting for me to give him the little tour of my new place before he settles in.

He’s already frowning at the sofabed, such a queen, but it’s not like he won’t find another warm bed to sleep in so anyway, so what’s the problem?

Anyway, ‘that cunt’ is his god-fearing mother, if you haven’t guessed. She takes every opportunity to tell him he’s going to hell for his wicked, wicked ways. You think she’d have figured out by now that it only spurs him on.

Which is why I understand it’s time to try a different tactic for the time being. Besides, my roommate’s not here right now anyway so the great outting I have planned for his own good, will have to wait.

That’s all I want really. Just for Brian to talk to him and feel him out, so to speak. I swear the guy’s gay, but he’s so far in the closet he can’t even admit it to himself. And believe me, it’s not healthy. He’s miserable. He’s a great guy—warm, funny, cute, creative—and he deserves to be happy, which he obviously isn’t now.

I know some people would frown on me sticking my nose into it. My neighbor says I should mind my own business because he knows what it’s like to be forced out of the closet by so-called friends (I righteously ignored that little dig because I knew he wasn’t talking about me) and he wouldn’t do it to anyone else. Hence, he was no help.

But I’m not letting that deter me. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t try harder? Oh, I know we hardly know each other. I’ve only had him as a roommie for a few months, he was recommended by a friend of a friend because he needed a place to stay and I needed someone to help with the rent, but it’s working out okay, I think. I like him. We’ll be good friends once he knows he can trust me.

Now Brian’s rummaging in the fridge for a beer, guess he decided to make himself at home without the tour. Not like he couldn’t. Look, stand on one heel and pivot—kitchen—pivot—bedroom—pivot—the other bedroom—pivot—bathroom—and we’re done.

He snags a bottle, twists off the top and grabs his bag as he heads to the bathroom. Fine, let him go fuck his brains out for tonight. I got all weekend to get him to have coffee with my roommate. He’ll do it.

While Brian’s in the shower, I decide to make a couple sandwiches for us. He’s going to need to keep his strength up for his all night fuckfest. Screw that, I’ll run down the street to the deli instead and let Joey make them, he’s much better at it. I let Brian know where I’m going and head out.

Twenty minutes later, I’m back. And Brian’s on the phone. Or he was, he said something like, ‘Are you sure? Please check again’, then abruptly hung up when he saw me. What the hell was that?

"What’s going on?" I ask casually.

He shrugs, "Nothing."

But then he hooks his thumbs in his jeans as he faces me. His body language dares me to question him further. He thinks he looks casual, but not if you know how to read him. Oh, yeah, he’s hiding something. Something that has him preoccupied more than the usual homecoming shit.

But before I can ask anything else, the door flies open and a whirling dervish whips in. "Daph, you are not going to believe it! I got the job!"

"Oh, my god!" I’m squealing again, because this is great news, as one would guess by our bouncing up and down until we collide with Brian.

He’s just staring at us like we have three heads. "Shit, sorry, Bri, this is--"

"Justin," he barely breaths.

Excuse me?!

Then I realize Justin’s in just as much shock. "Brian."

Oh, Christ. How the hell…

"What job?" Brian asks, recovering first. He looks…nervous? Hopeful? What the fuck is going on?

And Justin’s smile fades. "Does it matter?" He looks nervous…and crushed.

Oh shit. The job Justin applied for a couple weeks ago. In Pittsburgh. Some ad agency (no, not Brian’s) suddenly called one day and he was gone and back before we even knew it. If he had said something, I would’ve hooked him up with Brian myself so he had someone to show him around town, but I had no idea they’d managed to bump into each other on their own—and obviously there’d been a lot of bumpin’ that weekend!

"You fucked when Justin had his interview in Pittsburgh!" I blurt out as the pieces suddenly fall together. "Small world," I add helpfully.

But neither man acknowledges me.

"What are you doing here?" Justin asks coolly. Jesus, I’ve never seen him so glum. He’s like a ray of sunshine everyday and now he’s just…sad. What the hell happened between them?

"Family reunion," Brian replies.

Justin just raises his eyebrows, glancing between Brian and myself, and Brian simply arches one back.

A few moments go by. They seem to be at an impasse.

"See, small world," I say again to nudge them along once more. Talk, dammit! I need answers here!

"Why’d you just leave like that?" Brian asks flatly.

I know my jaw just dropped open and now I’m glad no one’s paying attention to me. Brian would be pissed if he suddenly realized someone else had just witnessed that level of vulnerability. Someone walked out on him? I’m pretty sure that’s a first.

Justin averts his eyes then. "I had to catch my plane."

But I can tell Brian isn’t buying it. Neither am I. I watch Justin’s face carefully for his next counter response, but then the phone rings.

Fuck, let the machine get it, I don’t want to miss anything! I glance at the phone, wondering if I can just unplug it quick, if they didn’t mind waiting a sec. I look back and in that short blink of an eye Brian had stepped right into Justin’s space, toe to toe, and he’s rubbing the back of Justin’s neck.

I barely hear him say, "I’ve been trying to find you."

I can’t help narrowing my eyes at him. So, that’s what he’s been thinking about all day. He must’ve been calling around for Justin when I caught him on the phone. And that’s why he suddenly agreed to come back for the weekend. What’d I tell you? Selfish prick. He could’ve at least told me!

Then just like earlier, Brian’s lifted the clouds and Justin’s face just beams. Like I said, not that he doesn’t have a killer smile all the time, but right now Justin could light up the city.

Again, I blink and suddenly they’re kissing like their lives depend on it. It’s really sweet…okay, and hot. It’s impossible not to watch, until they start tugging at each other’s clothes. That’s a bit much for a girl to take if she’s expected to just stay on the sidelines.

Brian lifts Justin up and his arms and legs wrap around Brian’s waist. "Where?" Brian growls.

Justin gasps, "Across… the hall…" as Brian attacks his neck.

So Brian slowly staggers across the room to the door and runs smack into my roommate who’s just come home. Not that Brian or Justin notice, they just plow the poor guy down. Before I can offer my hand and pull him back up, Justin’s apartment door slams shut and we’re left staring at it as it starts to shake on its hinges and some suddenly loud moaning comes through the thin wall. I think Brian and Justin are fucking right there on the other side of the door!

My mind is reeling, I still have a thousand unanswered questions about this little reunion, but at least I got my main objective for the day out of the way. I look at my blushing roommate while he stands in awe of his first brush with the great Brian Kinney and there is now no doubt in my mind that Michael is definitely gay.

He’s rooted to that spot, jaw hanging open and visibly drooling.

Yeah, welcome to my pathetic world, buddy.

Then I suddenly realize I haven’t really done Mikey such a great favor after all.

"Did I ever tell you my dad’s a drag queen?" he says after a moment.

I’m speechless again. Well, well, well… See, I knew we’d be great friends.