Spring Break

"C'mon, Mikey, this will be so great."

"I don't know, I mean, I have to work and it's a lot of money and…"

"You have to come, you have to. I'll be back in Pittsburgh on Thursday night, the flight leaves Friday morning, we'll leave from your Mom's house. I already booked you a ticket. You're going as Bob Smith."

"What are you talking about?"

"He's a geek in my dorm who's not going anywhere, you're traveling on his ID. The trip is sponsored by the school, so you have to be a student to go. It's not a big deal."

"But I don't know any of your friends and I'm not in college…"

"You are so pathetic. I'll see you Thursday." Brian hung up the phone. Ten days in Mexico with about ten thousand college kids for spring break and Mikey was coming, too. This would be awesome.

Michael walked down to the kitchen. As usual, his mother was in the midst of making yet another lasagna large enough to feed Allegheny County. "Mom?"

"Who was that? As if I have to ask."

"Brian wants me to go away with him next week. To Mexico. You think I can?"

She turned away from the oven. "And what are you going to use for money?"

So like her, always worried about that end of things. OK, she had reason. "You know I've been saving from work. I've probably got enough and he said that it would be cheap-the college is getting some group rate."

"You can get off work?"

He helped her with the table, setting out the plates and silverware. "Sure. I haven't taken a vacation since I started."

"You and Brian together. God, I'll have nightmares every time I close my eyes."

"Ah, come on, Ma, you know we always have a good time and we don't get to see each other much. It'll be great, besides, I've never been anywhere, you know that…it'll be educational."

"Yeah, I'll bet. I can imagine what you'll be learning. You just don't go doing anything dumb, you hear me?"

That was it. He knew that he could go.

* * *

Less than a week later Brian was pulling up to Michaels's house, loading the suitcase into the back of the borrowed car and shoehorning Michael into the back seat with three other Penn Students.

"Brian, this is stupid, we can't ride like this. We can't move back here."

"Guys, just shut up. We'll be at the airport in half an hour. Get over it."

"So how come you get to drive?"

"Because I know the way to Pittsburgh International."

"We can read maps, asshole."

"Fuck off."

* * *

The flight down was fairly calm with an underlying air of expectancy-the flight was a charter, the passengers all students on the way to vaca. It was a party flight.

Mikey felt weird about being with all the college kids. The only thing that his semester at Allegheny County was doing was to make him feel like Brian's baby brother and all around jerk tagalong. Damnit, all of Brian's friends were just the kind of guys you would expect someone like Brian to hang with. They were gay, beautiful and as smart as he was. Mikey felt like a rube. Of course, he also noticed that Brian was the best looking and the smartest-some things don't change, after all. Brian would never be second best if he could avoid it. Oh, and no one knew that any of them were queer. It wasn't anything any of the guys said, it just was.

Brian was trying to include him, making sure to sit next to him and slipping him drinks from his stash, but Michael could tell that he was outclassed.

Damnit. He knew that this would happen.

Taking one look at Michael's face, Brian leaned close so that he could whisper without being overheard. "You're my best friend, asshole. They're just guys I hang around with. You're the one who'll be there after they're gone."

Michael had his puppy dog look on his face, the one Brian always though made him look like a cross between a bassett hound and a cocker spaniel. "Really?"

"Mikey, what have I always told you?…Always have, always will, right?" Ignoring whoever might have been looking, Brian gave him a kiss-not one of their really great ones, just enough to let him know that he meant it.

Three hours later the plane landed in Ixtapa. OK, it had been Michael's first flight-OK it had been Brian's first flight, too and the both of them were trying for cool with all they were worth. Brian seemed to be having more success, but that was to be expected, all things considered.

They went through what passed for immigration control, found the buses to take them to hotel and drank the cheap beers provided to ward off the heat from Hell that was surrounding them.

It wasn't just heat, you have to understand. Anyone knows what that it-everyone has been through a heat wave or a blistering day in August. This made that look like amateur night. This was like someone had taken a blanket out of the dryer after it had been set on 'high' for three hours and wrapped it around you on the hottest day of the year and then left you to sit in the sun and you were dressed in thermal underwear to boot. This was heat that pressed down on you like an anvil. It was dry heat that sucked any moisture away from you and left a film of dust stuck to you before the sweat could evaporate.

It was awful. Unbearable.

Dear God, let the hotel be better than this.

The bus was full of loud college kids, none too sober, and Michael thought that he might throw up. Jesus, if the whole week was going to be like this he'd never survive the damn thing and on top of that, Brian's gorgeous friends seemed like they were taking it all in stride, just like Brian. Of course he knew that Brian took everything in stride and that Brian never sweated unless he chose to…and that would only be in a gym and even then it would look just right on him, like a stylist had sprayed him down or something.

That was Brian.

Michael felt like Brian's loser little brother and he sort of hunched into the corner with his face pressed against the semi-opened window. At least the glass was a little cooler than the air.

God, Brian's friends were going to ditch him the first chance they got, he just knew it and Brian would just leave with him and it would be the crappiest week he'd ever spent in his whole life. He just knew it.

The others were laughing and drinking their beers-God, they were probably planning how to get rid of him…a series of scenes flashed through his mind: him being pushed off a boat as it drove off, him being fed poisoned shrimp, him being tossed of a balcony, him being abandoned in the desert, him being set up with a girl…God!

This was going to be Hell.

The bus was getting somewhere. It was turning into a resort and was pulling up to a reception area. Jesus it was hot.

They made their way to the front of the bus and were handed some weird ass tropical drinks with umbrellas in them as they got off the bus. There was a mariachi band playing and the porters were giving Brian the eye. Their luggage was already sitting on the sidewalk and they were shown where to sign in.

Fifteen minutes later their group was getting settled in their various rooms and making plans to meet on the beach in ten.

Michael was having a crisis of confidence.

Thank God that Brian was his roommate.

The others probably weren't even gay. Well, OK, knowing Brian, that was a long shot, but still, you could never assume these things. Sure Brian had been getting more and more heterophobic as time went by, but even he wouldn't…nah, even Brian wouldn't hang with a bunch of breeders, even if they were the best looking guys Michael had ever seen.

"Hey, Brian?" They were in their room, getting their bathing suits on, grabbing the sun block and towels and stuff.

"Yeah?"

"Your friends-they are gay, right?"

Brian stopped dead and went still, his face frozen. "Gay? Fags? You want to know if my friends are a bunch of queers? Do they dance on the other side of the ballroom? Are they fairies? Pansies? Michael Charles Novatny, how can you ask me a question like that?"

"Jesus, Brian-you brought me down here with a bunch of straight guys? God, Brian what were you thi…?"

He leaned over to Michael, put his hand on his shoulder, his expression serious. "Mikey, I think it's time you understood something. I've been giving it a lot of thought. You see, I've grown up a lot in college and I've made some decisions. After speaking with my mother I've become more mindful of the Church's teachings and I've decided that I want to be a good husband and father. I've been waiting for the perfect time to tell you and this seems like…"

Michael stared at him in horror.

"Mikey. I'm kidding. They're as queer as we are."

"Jesus, Brian…asshole."

"You are so pathetic. We're outta here."

Minutes later they were dragging a couple of chaises along the beach, putting them under a couple of perfectly situated palm trees about twenty yards from the surf.

It was fucking paradise. And about thirty degrees cooler than the damn bus had been. Thank God. This may be alright.

"C'mon, Mikey. We're going to learn how to surf."

"…I'll watch."

"Move your ass, Novatny."

"Shit, c'mon, you know I'm a lousy swimmer. I'll take pictures."

"Mikey…now." Three of the others picked him up and hauled him out to the small breakers. Brian, of course, managed to stand up within half an hour. Michael never got off his stomach-but belly boards were fun, too. It was ok. No one teased him-well, not too much, anyway. Brian's friends were nice guys and he was having fun. He really was. They were all cool about him being with them. At least they seemed like they were, anyway.

Michael was sitting by the pool the next day with Chad, just talking. They were hitting it off and Michael assumed that he had as much of a crush on Brian as the others obviously did.

"Me? Nah. I mean, he's hot and all, but he's just a friend."

"You mean you wouldn't fuck him if he offered?"

"…I didn't say that, I just said I don't think of him like that."

Michael gave him a look like he was nuts. "Are you fucking blind? Look at him!" Brian was part of a game of volleyball about twenty yards away. He was shirtless, of course, tanned and beautiful, moving like a fucking panther. The co-eds around the court were practically drooling.

"He's not my type."

"Uh-huh. And why not?" Like he believed this bullshit.

"I'm looking for someone I can be with and be friends with outside of bed. He's just looking to get laid. So we skip the bed part and stick with being friends. It works out better in the long run."

Brian with a boyfriend? That was something that would never happen. Chad was right on that score.

"You think the whole boyfriend thing can work?"

"You mean like true love and a rose covered cottage? Sure, I guess. Why not?"

"It's just that, well, we're different than that?"

Chad looked over at him like he was speaking in tongues. "Different? Why? Because we're queer?" Michael sort of shrugged an 'I guess'. "That's bullshit, dude. We're just people-everyone wants the same thing. You know-respect and friendship and love and all of that. What's different?"

"I don't know. I just don't think it's as easy as that."

"Well, fuck me, of course it's not easy. If it was then Kinney the Fuck King would have figured it out."

They looked over at Brian who was making a connection with some hunk they'd been ogling since yesterday. They were headed for the bar.

Chad started again. "I mean like that. So they'll get a drink, go to a room or some place, fuck and that will be that. In a couple of hours Brian won't even look at him if they trip over each other."

Michael wasn't comfortable hearing Brian being criticized like that. He did it all the time, of course, but that was different.

"Well, I guess, but Brian had things to deal with and I guess he's still working it all out, or something."

"Yeah, whatever. Everyone has things to deal with. So ten years, fifteen years from now, say he doesn't get his shit together and he's still doing the same bump and grind-that would be pretty pathetic, you know?"

"But Brian has to…"

"Hey," he held up a hand to let the bugles ring peace, "I like the guy, too. I just think he needs to get some shit straight in his head, that's all." Michael had his hangdog look on his face. "C'mon, the water's great." Shaking it off, he followed Chad down to the surf line. He was right, the water was great. And he might even learn to enjoy swimming in a place like this.

Around eleven thirty that night the group was in one of the local nightclubs, listening to the thumpa-thumpa, drinking the local tequila and eyeing the crowd-mostly breeders and college kids looking for some fun. Brian and Company, as Michael had mentally nicknamed them, were getting the usual attention.

Well, hell…young, gorgeous and happy was a good combination for attracting the vibes.

They guys started dancing with one another, just sort of in a group. In a few minutes a couple of girls, then a few more joined in. In about three minutes the whole floor seemed to have centered on Brian and Co-the lights pulsing, the music thumping, the bodies moving and it was all moving around Brian who was drinking the whole thing in and laughing.

God, it was another Brian Kinney moment if he'd ever seen one.

A second song started then when that was over a third. Brian was paired off with some blonde babe with a UCLA tee shirt that would probably fit her seven-year-old sister. They were bumping and grinding-OK, mostly grinding and rubbing and-Jesus, why they weren't getting arrested God only knew but it was fucking hot.

Brian caught his eye, leered, laughed and whispered something to Ms Bruin who laughed back at him and nodded, smiling like she could light up the room. The two of them headed for the exit, leaving Michael confused-really confused.

Brian and a girl? This was the apocalypse, right? "Tommy, did you just see what I saw?"

"Brian some beach bunny headed off to make some waves? That's what it looked like to me."

"Tommy…?"

"You want to spend your whole life just eating hamburgers? Sometimes you want to try some chicken, you know?"

Well, shit-actually Michael didn't know. "Yeah, but she's a girl. Brian hates pussy."

"Hey, you never know til you try. Tell you what, tonight when he gets back, assuming he gets back, you ask him all about it." Tommy punched his arm. "You might learn something, dude."

Michael looked liked he had just eaten worms.

"C'mon, Mikey, dance with me, bro. Let's show 'em how it's done."

The next morning Brian finally caught up with his friends at breakfast, wearing fresh clothes and seeming none the worse for wear. With orange juice, coffee and cornflakes in front of him, Brian deflected questions, maintaining that a gentleman didn't tell and besides, it was none of their fucking business so shut the fuck up and leave him the fuck alone.

Half an hour later by the pool, with just Michael for company, he told the tale.

"OK, you saw that I'd hooked up with Deann and damned if she wasn't actually a not half bad kisser, for a girl. So we were walking around, checking out the tourist stalls and making out some more and somehow we ended up at the bar in her hotel."

"Like you needed any more alcohol in your body at that stage, asshole."

"I'm Irish, Damnit, a little respect, please. So, we hung out some more, danced some more, drank a lot more and she was hinting pretty heavily to go upstairs."

Brian stopped, drawing it out, sipping on his after breakfast beer. "We were headed for the elevators, crossing the lobby and…her fucking brother shows up."

"Her brother? Get out."

"No shit. So I think this is it, I'm busted and there goes my chance to walk on the wild side."

"Yeah?"

"So Dave tells Deann to get her ass upstairs or he'll tell their parents and she knows that she'd never set foot out of the damn house if he does that, so...she goes. She's pissed, but she gives me this sad kiss good bye and she's gone."

"And you didn't get back until breakfast because……..?"

"Dave asked me if we could have a talk, you know, just the two of us in private. I'm thinking, 'crap, here's where he tells me to keep my filthy hands off his virgin sister', right?"

Michael nodded, eating this up.

"So we go up to his room, I'm expecting the protective big brother lecture, we walk into the room, he closes the door, turns to me and…"

"And…?"

"He asks me if I'm a top or a bottom."

"You're shitting me."

Brian just laughed, Michael about to tell him how full of shit he was when this blond god walks by, smiles this heart stopping smile at Brian, says something about "Thanks for the talk last night" and smirks his way down to the beach.

"God, you are unbelievable."

"Mikey, you are so completely pathetic."

The next few days were pretty much the same and they all fell into a comfortable routine. Brian would spend the days with his friends, making a point to stay fairly close to Michael but come the night he would take off for his own entertainment which he seemed to find in a never ending supply.

They had fun, did almost no thinking, stayed out of trouble and kept a low profile. They didn't bother anyone and no one bothered them. Their biggest problem seemed to be a shortage of sun block.

The day before they were to leave they made the required trip into the local town for the required souvenirs. Michael found not bad earrings and bracelets made up of silver and various semi-precious stones for his mother, a hand made hammock for his uncle Vic, a hand woven blanket for his bed and a couple of amazingly gaudy pieces of pottery just because he had liked them.

Brian looked at almost everything, buying nothing.

They were all ready to get in their last day on the water when Michael told them he'd just be a minute and doubled back, annoying the others who were all getting hot and tired and cranky and just wanted to get back to the beach. He rejoined them at the cab-a vintage VW bug with few springs about ten minutes later and as they were just about to leave him to his own devices.

"So what did you get?"

"Nothing."

"Asshole."

After their last lunch Michael and Brian opted out of the jet skiing the others were trying to laze under what had become their favorite palm tree on their favorite loungers. Lying down with their towels, books, sun block, sunglasses and beer, they settled in for the afternoon. Shyly, Michael held something out, taking Brian's arm and holding it..

"I got you something, to remember this trip by." He tied it onto his wrist, Brian watching him intently as he did so.

"What's that?" He was looking closely at the bracelet now on firmly.

"Cowry shells. I thought they were pretty. You don't think it's a tourist trap thing, do you?"

Brian could count the times in his life when someone had given him something just because they wanted to, just because they were friends and because someone liked him on about two fingers.

"…Mikey… I like it." He seemed almost shy when he said, unable to meet Michael's eyes.

"Really?" He had that smile he'd get on his face, the one where his someone told him he'd done good.

"…It's great."

Michael held Brian's hand up to get a closer look. "Your initials are on it. That's what took ten minutes."

He was looking at it, admiring it. "I like it a lot, Mikey." Leaning over he kissed Michael like he would do now and then. It wasn't so much sexual; it was more than just sex. It was good friends. Best friends.

"This trip…this has been so great. I never had this much fun before and I sure as Hell never thought I'd ever get to Mexico or anyplace."

"You know I love you, Mikey. You know that. Always have, always will."

"Me too, Brian." They kissed again then pulled apart. It was still a public beach in the middle of the day, no matter that no one was paying attention, there was no reason to be stupid.

"Besides, you're going all kinds of places."

"You really think so?"

"…Mikey, you are so pathetic."

They settled back on their chaises, Michael noticing that Brian would look at his wrist now and then and finger the smoothness of the thing. He seemed to really like it, not like he was just being polite-not that Brian had ever placed much value on that. He'd done it; he'd found something Brian really liked that was just from him, that was special. Maybe he'd even keep it for a while.

The afternoon passed peacefully, with just the two of them keeping one another company.

The last night of the vacation Michael and Brian decided to go out, just the two of them, have some fun and just sort of see where the winds took them.

Michael had just sort of assumed that it would go the way most of their evenings out together ended up. They would start out together, maybe have dinner, then move on to some club or bar. Brian would fine some hot guy, he'd give Michael a look and that would be the end of him either for ten minutes or ten hours, depending how things worked out.

They had dressed up, well as much as a couple of broke kids could while on vacation and headed to a small restaurant Brian had somehow heard about. They had trouble finding it-finally having to ask some locals to direct them to the place. It was off the main road on an unmarked dirt road and through a field to a clearing. The restaurant was just a house. Well, OK, it was a nice-ish house, but nothing that you'd look twice at if you drove by. There were a few cars parked out front, the porch lights on the veranda were on.

Walking up the wooden steps, Brian gave his name as though he was used to restaurants expecting him. The young woman practically tripped over herself leading them to their table, but Brian was used to that reaction and paid no attention.

Their table was on the back porch, for lack of a better description. There were maybe five tables there, all of them small. There was a railing and beyond that was a quiet bay, water lapping and the moon reflected in the water.

It was perfect.

After a short conversation, the young woman left, a waitress returning quickly with a good bottle of wine and clean plates.

It was a fish place, but that was a misnomer. It was a family owned and run restaurant specializing in whatever the local fishermen had brought in that day. This evening there was a large table on a side porch with a large swordfish laid out. It was complete, other than having been gutted. The chef would walk over to it, slice steaks off the side, put them on the open grill beside it and brush some kind of marinade over the things while they cooked in front of you. The other diners would get up as the pieces were done, tong them onto their plates, maybe hit the buffet that held the pasta and vegetables and salad then return to their chairs.

"Shall we?"

They filled their plates, watching the cook for a couple of minutes before sitting down.

"God, how did you find this place?"

"I asked around-you know those guys we were talking to the other day snorkeling?" They were the guides, a couple of local guys. "They told me about it. I thought it might be fun."

"It's got to be expensive, Brian I don't know if I can…"

"My treat."

"God, Brian, you don't have any money and you need what you do have for school and…."

"Mikey, shut up and eat. God, you are so pathetic. Would you rather be out drinking with the boys?"

"Well, no." He looked around the veranda, at the couple and the candles and the water lapping. "This is almost like a date, isn't it?"

Brian gave him a look to freeze a marguerita. "This is not a fucking date."

"Yeah, I know that. I just meant that if either one of us ever went out on a date it would probably be something like this. You think?"

"I think I'm gonna hurl. Christ, Mikey, you make it sound like we're a couple of lesbians. Gimme a break."

"OK…it would be nice, though, don't you think?" Brian gave him one of his glares. "OK, I won't say anything more."

"Good." Brian got up for seconds of the fish. It was fabulous.

"Have you got anything lined up after you graduate? I mean job-wise?"

Brian was savoring his fish. "Grad school, probably for two years. I could get an alright job with a BA, but I can get more money and look at higher jobs if I have my MBA. It makes more sense in the long run."

He'd hoped that Brian would say that he'd found a job in Pittsburgh or someplace nearby, but that wouldn't be what he was looking for. He'd want New York or LA or someplace like that. Chicago at the least. Brian had standards and they didn't include the Golden Triangle. Maybe he'd go to Pitt or Carnegie for his masters.

"Grad school where?"

"Penn. I've already been accepted and was offered a TA, so that should help with the money and contacts."

"That makes sense." He managed to hide his disappointment.

"Mikey, you've got to get out of the fucking Q."

"My Mom needs the money I give her."

"I know that, but there's got to be something else besides that crap-emporium."

This conversation was getting depressing. "Brian, just drop it, alright? I mean, I know that, but I have to help Mom and I'm not as smart as you are. You can go do all these things and I'm just kind of stuck working."

He looked so depressed that Brian decided that something had to be done. Signaling the waitress, he ordered another bottle of wine. "OK, here what we're going to do; on the plane tomorrow, we're going to map out your life, you got that?"

"What about your life?"

"I did it already. It's under lock and key."

"Yeah, right. What's the plan then?"

"MBA. Fabulous job. Partner by the time I'm 30. Drop dead place to live. Piles of money. A wardrobe to kill for." He sipped his wine, thinking. "A twink to jump to my beck and call…And a jeep. A black jeep. Loaded."

"That about covers it." Michael was laughing, Brian seemed serious. "Your twink-blond or brunet?"

"Blond, more of a contrast when we go out together. And he has to be horny all the time."

"And he'll love you madly and follow you like a puppy, giving blow jobs on command right?"

"Until I tell him to get lost."

"A well trained twink, then?"

"The only kind to have."

"Brian, I'll keep that in mind." More wine, neither of them was feeling pain. "This has been like the best week of my life."

"Mine, too."

Dinner was over and the ride back to the hotel was quiet, neither of them sure if they would say too much or not enough if they started talking. Walking back to their room, Brian took Michael's arm. "C'mon." They veered left to the Jacuzzi that was hidden behind a bunch of shrubs and canopied by some palms. No one was there. Brian stripped off in about ten seconds and got in. "Mikey, c'mon."

"What if someone comes by? You're naked!"

"Hey…we're just a couple of guys. Get your ass in here."

"Brian…"

"Michael Charles Novatny…do I have to call your mother?"

"That's not funny." Knowing he was beaten, he took off his clothes, covering as much of himself as he could.

"You could grab a couple of those palm fronds."

"Fuck you." He put a toe in. "It's hot."

"Get the fuck in."

Five minutes later they were both comfortably sitting in hot, swirling water, just enjoying the moment-slightly drunk, relaxed, perfect night and best friends. It didn't get much better.

They were close to dozing, their knees lightly touching, occasionally making contented sounds…it was-perfection.

Then they heard the footsteps.

"It's late." "So what?" "We'll get caught!" "Like anyone cares." "I don't think we should…" "Maryann-come on!" "But …the lights are off and it's probably shut down for the night." "It's right here and of course it's on, don't be such a princess."

"Ginger…Oh, alright, but it's your fault if we get in trouble."

The two co-eds pushed through the leaves. They were wearing bikinis and looked about nineteen. They stopped dead at the sight of the two young men sitting completely relaxed in front of them.

"Oh, we're sorry. We didn't mean to disturb you…"

Brian opened his eyes and looked at them. "We're not doing anything. Get in."

They approached. "We've seen you around with all your friends all week-we were hoping that we could get to know you all a little better."

Oh, God.

The girls giggled and Michael heard something about "…cute"

There was room for them all and the girls were probably slightly drunker than the boys were. They all exchanged the usual "Where do you go to school and what class are you in?" small talk. It was more than obvious that they had come to some sort of agreement about which girl would get which guy and Brian found himself knee to shoulder with Ginger-who had had mentally labeled 'vapid'. Michael had his hands full-fortunately not literally-with Maryann. Both girls went to some women's college in the south. Maryann was from Kansas, Ginger from LA. No surprises there. They were both majoring in health and nutrition, which was as close as you could get to Home Ec in the 90's.

"Oh my God, you're naked!" Brian just smiled at the girl, seeing no point in commenting on the obvious. "Well, alright!"

The two girls exchanged looks and began removing their bras. Maryann was reaching down to her bathing suit bottom when the look on Michael's face let Brian know this had gone far enough for now. "Mikey? C'mere."

Michael slid across the Jacuzzi and into Brian's lap. They began kissing with a serious lack of subtlety.

"You don't mind if we finish what we got in here for, do you?"

The girls stared at them for a second, a long couple of very seconds, in fact, looked at each other and giggled nervously.

"That's not funny, guys, come on."

"It's not supposed to be funny. Mikey, you find this funny?"

"I'm taking it pretty seriously, myself."

"Really, we're fags."

"You are not."

"You prefer queers? And yeah, we are."

"…And your friends?"

Brian just shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint, ladies."

Within a minute the girls were gone. As soon as they were out of sight Michael slid off Brian's lap, both of them laughing. "That was so totally weird."

"Breeders. God."

"Think they'll do anything?"

"Like what? Sneak into our room later to see if we're screwing?"

"I mean like say anything."

"God, Mikey, you are so pathetic. We're leaving in the morning-what the fuck are you so afraid of? They're not even going to be on the same plane. Nothing will happen."

He visibly relaxed against the side, his toes playing with one of the jets. A companionable silence was on them, late night, relaxed, good friends with no secrets. "You know what, Brian? This has been like the best week of my entire life."

Brian had settled into one of his serious moods, rare for him, especially on a vacation. "Me, too. I'm glad you came with me. It made it-really good, having you here." He lifted his right arm out of the hot water, the one with the bracelet on it. "I love this. And I love you for giving it to me."

"I love you, too, Brian."

"Always have, always will."

"…Maybe we could come back next year?"

"Next year is next year. I'll probably have to work. Grad school is expensive."

"Yeah, I guess so…"

"But we'll have this." He meant the trip, the memories. "The others think we're lovers. They think we spend all night fucking."

"Well, maybe you do." He was laughing, but there was some truth to it. He and Brian would never…they never would and they both knew that. They just wouldn't. "Do you ever think about falling in love? I mean like really loving someone and coming home to them every night and worrying about them and all that-maybe even getting married."

"Like fags will ever be able to get married."

"I know, but I mean if we could-would you ever want to?" He saw the look. "No, I don't mean you and me 'we'. I mean queers 'we'."

"I don't believe in love…"

"I know, you believe in fucking. Yeah, right. I bet if you met the right person you'd change your mind."

Brian snorted. "Like that would ever fucking happen." Tequila and a hot tub were a good truth serum. "Who the fuck would ever love me?" It was so low Michael could barely hear it over the sound of the water and didn't know what to say or if he should even let Brian know he'd said that out loud.

Moving across the large tub he kissed Brian the way his mother used to kiss him when she thought that he needed it. "Me."

"Best Friends."

"Yup. Best Friends."

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