Chapter 41: "Haunted"

Fuck. Between Michael and Justin, it felt like everybody wanted a piece of him lately. Brian groaned, rubbing his forehead in attempt to massage away a stress he couldn’t physically touch. Just when the fuck had things gotten so complicated, anyway?
Michael was on his way over. Brian sighed heavily as he walked over to the kitchen island and poured himself a drink. Jack Daniels, straight up. He wasn’t messin’ around tonight. For a moment, he considered snorting some poppers to take the edge off even further, but his thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the intercom.
Groaning, Brian quickly took a large swig of his drink and traipsed over to the speaker.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me,” Michael’s garbled voice came through loud and clear.
Brian shut his eyes hard, but his thumb found the release button to let him in. He had no idea what the fuck he was going to say. He had no idea what Michael was going to say to him, either. He could’ve been on his way up to ream him out, and Brian really wasn’t in the mood for that shit.
Even if he did just have some of the most amazing sex of his life last night . . .
A knock at the door. Brian blinked and gestured with his hand for no one to see. “It’s open,” he called.
Enter Michael. He had jeans on, along with a superhero T-shirt. His typical ensemble.
“Hey,” he said, somewhat timidly.
Brian blinked at him blankly. “Hey,” he echoed.
Michael pulled the door closed, took a couple of steps in and slid his hands down into his front pockets. He sort of shrugged as he looked at Brian.
Brian cleared his throat. “Want something to drink?”
“Um, sure, I’ll take a . . . beer,” Michael said. As Brian headed for the kitchen, Michael let out a nervous exhale.
Brian returned a moment later and offered the bottle to Michael. “Shall we sit?” he gestured towards the couch.
“Sure,” Michael said.
He sat on the couch and Brian sat on the chair. The two sat staring at each other in silence for a good minute. Michael took an awkward sip of his beer.
Brian tapped his fingers impatiently against the armrest. “So,” he began, clearing his throat again. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You know damn well what’s up.”
Brian blinked as his gaze fell to the floor. He took a breath and looked back up at Michael.
“Are you REALLY not going to say anything? . . . still?” Michael stared at Brian with pleading eyes, growing wider and more desperate by the minute.
“I . . . I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
Michael straightened himself up against the back of the couch, irritated. “Something! Anything! It doesn’t matter, just address what happened between us, please! For fuck’s sake, Brian!”
Brian glanced up towards the ceiling, annoyed, and took a drink. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes in front of his best friend. Next he straightened himself up, trying to calculate his response carefully.
“It just . . . happened.”
Michael scoffed. “ ‘It just happened,’” he repeated in disbelief. “That’s all you have to say? After 18 fuckin’ years of friendship? It ‘just happened?’”
“Well what the fuck else do you want from me?” Brian’s irritation ripped through his voice, his tone cutting the air. “Tell me, Michael.”
Michael blinked, becoming still in the shock of Brian’s sudden anger. “Why’d you do it?”
He paused, looking long and hard at his best friend, as if searching for an answer he wouldn’t ever speak. “Why did you make love to me?”
Brian rubbed his forehead, shaking his head ever so slightly. “You really wanna know? The TRUTH?”
“Yes, goddammit.”
Brian leaned forward, set his drink down on the coffee table and looked Michael dead in the eyes. “Because I was fucked up, that’s why.” He took a breath to let the words sink in. “I was upset, you brought me home, I got even more fucked up, and then we were together in my bed . . . and I fucked you.” He shrugged. “That’s what happened, Mikey.”
Michael blinked again. “That can’t be the full story.”
“Wake the fuck up, Michael,” Brian raised his voice, as if it’d help to drive his point home more easily. “That’s what happened. Point blank. Haven’t you ever noticed that the only times I’ve ever offered to fuck you, I’ve been fucked up? Or are you selectively blind to that, too?”
Michael narrowed his eyes again and set his beer on the table. “I thought . . .”
“You thought what?” Brian barked.
Michael’s voice quieted under the pressure. “I dunno, I guess that things were different now . . .”
“Between us?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” Michael started, but hesitated. “Because of her.”
“Sage?” Brian’s eyes narrowed as he studied Michael, sending out unspoken threats. “The fuck does she have to do with anything concerning us?”
“Well apparently not a goddamn thing!” Michael’s voice raised now, into his panicked tone. Tears began to form, bringing an extra layer of shine to his eyes. He took an anxious breath. “You won’t ever fuckin’ talk to me about her, it’s like she’s this . . . secret you have—only I KNOW about it, Brian! And Justin knows! And we feel like we don’t even know who the fuck you are anymore!”
Brian looked away and shook his head. He chewed his bottom lip, visibly pissed off. The anger was still present in his voice, but he spoke quietly, and very bluntly.
“I’m entitled to have one thing in my life that’s private.” He looked back at Michael, his gaze burning right through him, displaying that he wasn’t joking, that he firmly believed it.
Michael softened, ever so slightly. “Of course you are . . .” He swallowed. “I just . . . I thought I was your best friend.”
“You are,” Brian said, not looking at him.
“Well then I just don’t understand why THIS is the thing that you can’t talk to me about—”
“I thought you came over here to discuss what happened between us,” Brian growled, cutting him off.
“I did!” Michael insisted. “Shit, Brian, I can’t get through to you when you’re like this! It’s like you just keep finding ways to shut me out. I’m trying to explain why I feel like you’ve changed, why it feels like other things might’ve changed, too, only you won’t let me.”
Brian sucked on his bottom lip, then looked back at him. “Just stick to talking about us, Michael. That’s all.”
“Alright, fuckin’ fine,” Michael groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’m just not used to there being secrets between us. We’ve told each other everything since we were 14, for fuck’s sake!”
Brian chuckled in a sarcastic way. “Not everything, Michael.” He shook his head, amused. “Not everything.”
Michael rolled his eyes again, and his voice calmed considerably. “Alright, then I’ve told you everything.”
Brian blinked, watching and waiting for him to go on.
“I guess the night that it happened,” Michael’s glance dropped to the table between them. He went on in a rushed sort of mumble. “I dunno, I guess you seemed so upset and so . . . hurt, Christ, I’ve NEVER seen you like that before.” He licked his lips and swallowed, his eyes widening as he continued. “I’ve never known you to get so upset after—to walk out of Babylon at the mere sight of someone . . .”
Brian’s gaze intensified as he continued listening.
“And I dunno, I guess, maybe I . . . took advantage of you, a little bit,” Michael said. He sighed, still unable to meet Brian’s gaze. “I told myself I was taking care of you, but really, I wanted to be the one who was there for you—for selfish reasons.”
He glanced up at Brian, finally. Brian’s eyes were dead serious as he looked back at him.
“I wanted to be able to comfort you, when she’d obviously hurt you—”
“Don’t talk about her,” Brian interrupted. He let out an unsteady breath as he leaned back against the chair, making himself as tall as possible. “The fuck did I say?”
“Fine,” Michael said, sighing. “I just meant I wanted to be the one to make you feel better . . . and yeah, I guess if I’m being honest, I was hoping you’d appreciate it.”
“And that I’d fuck you,” Brian finished.
Michael exhaled. “Basically, yes.” He whispered, shutting his eyes in shame.
Brian chuckled, but not in a happy way. He leaned forward again, resting his forearms against the table, as he looked back at Michael.
“Is that what you’ve been waiting for this whole time? An opportunity for me to get to express my gratitude to you—by fucking you?”
Michael blinked, insulted, and shook his head. “No, of course not.”
Brian tongued at the inside of his cheek. “I don’t believe you.”
Michael sighed. “Alright, well, maybe a part of me has always been hoping for . . . a chance.” He looked at Brian, feeling brave for finally putting it out in the open. “But then again, you already knew that. You’ve known it all along.”
“That’s right,” Brian said bluntly.
“But it’s not like I was just sitting around waiting for an opportunity,” Michael’s tone got more insistent again. “That’s not the only reason I wanted to be around you. You really are my best friend. But okay, yes,” he took a sharp breath in, “I’m . . . in love with you . . . and I’ve always been.”
Brian’s face grew blank. He pursed his lips, glanced down and nodded slowly. He looked back up at Michael again.
“And that’s why it should’ve never happened.”
“What?” Michael blinked.
“Us, Michael,” Brian’s irritation returned. “Us, fucking.”
“You mean, you regret it?” The hurt in his voice was clear with the suggestion.
“It was a mistake,” Brian blurted, practically spitting. His next blink was heavy, and deciding.
Michael’s mouth fell open, his eyes narrowing as the tears came back with a vengeance, coloring them pink. He shook his head slowly. “Is that all you think it was?” His voice came out weakly.
Brian said nothing. His eyes dropped to the floor as he let a long breath out, his shoulders falling.
Michael silently rubbed his face to gather himself, stood up, and escorted himself out of Brian’s loft. He didn’t look back, except for one final glimpse through the slit in the door to see Brian watching him, blank faced, as he pulled it closed.
In the following silence, Brian grabbed his drink and then rested against the back of the chair, letting his head hand drop over the top. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead once again.

---
His vision was blurry as the elevator doors opened. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, but he had to keep it together just a little bit longer. His footsteps echoed through the hallway as he stomped along the concrete floor. Finally he reached his apartment.
No one’s home. I just need to get inside and then I can break down . . .
He sniffled and put his key into the doorknob, only the door opened without him needing to turn it.
Shit.
“Michael, baby, is that you?”
Double shit.
Emmett’s friendly face appeared before him a second later. Michael cleared his throat and looked down at the floor awkwardly.
“I uhh, didn’t think anyone would be here,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, I decided not to go out tonight,” Emmett chuckled. “I was just BEAT from dealing with tweaked-out disco trash all day. Plus I’ve got a huge party to plan starting tomorrow, so I wanted to get a lit-tle time to myself.” He chuckled again, cheerful.
Michael didn’t say anything, just nodded silently. Emmett studied him a moment.
“A-are you okay, baby?” He put a tender hand under Michael’s chin and gently lifted his face. A couple tears had leaked out, staining Michael’s cheeks with their trails.
A gasp.
“Sweetie, come here! Get inside,” Emmett soothed, guiding Michael in with one arm and closing the door with the other. “Come on over here and sit and tell me all about it.”
The two boys sat on the couch. Michael still wouldn’t make eye contact, but his eyes had welled up again. He sniffled.
Emmett’s brows furrowed in concern. He placed an encouraging hand on Michael’s knee. “C’mon baby, tell Auntie Em what’s going on.” His voice was that of a true friend.
Michael blinked, staring off out the window. “I, uhh . . .” He sighed.
Emmett watched him intently, the concern never leaving his face. He sat patiently, holding a space for him.
“Shit,” Michael’s voice cracked as the tears started to fall. “I fucked up, Em. I really did.” He sobbed, his shoulders quaking.
“Oh, baby,” Emmett whispered, frowning. He leaned forward and pulled Michael towards him, allowing his forehead to rest on his shoulder. He rubbed his back as Michael continued sobbing.
“Can’t make any promises, sweetie, but it might help to talk about it,” Emmett soothed.
Michael took a deep, uneasy breath and sniffed again. Emmett swept one arm out to the side and grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table, offering it to Michael. However, his face was still buried in Emmett’s shoulder.
“Here,” Emmett said.
Michael turned his head. “Thanks.” He grabbed the tissue and cleaned himself up a bit, slowing the release of his upset for a moment. However, he felt exhausted from the wave that had just come through him, so he rested his head back down on Emmett’s shoulder.
He took a deep breath. “I fucked him, Em.”
Emmett’s eyebrows furrowed further, this time in confusion. He continued stroking Michael’s back. “Fucked w-who, dear?”
Another deep breath, with a heavy exhale. “Brian.”
Emmett’s backrub came to a screeching halt. “You d-did . . . what?”
He felt he should look him in the eyes to drive the point home. Michael straightened himself up to eye level.
He blinked, one final tear escaping down his cheek. “I fucked Brian,” he repeated. He sounded totally defeated and lost.
“You . . . fucked . . . Brian?!” Emmett’s shock caused his voice to grow so loud, the neighbors probably could’ve heard him.
“Shhh! Jesus, Em.” Michael looked nervously from side to side, as if someone was lurking in the distance.
“Sorry,” Emmett said, swallowing, collecting himself. There was some tension in his voice, in shock still. “Just, uhh . . . needed to be sure I h-heard you.”
“Yeah, you heard me,” Michael sighed. His eyes hung heavily in shame, looking down at the couch cushion between them.
Emmett’s furrowed, concerned brows were stapled in place. “But why? When did this h-happen? H-how did this happen?”
Michael shut his eyes tightly. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He reopened his eyes and saw Emmett’s unwavering concern for him, and had a change of heart. He sighed again. “At least, not right now. Right now I just wanna wallow in shame and hate myself.”
Emmett shook his head. “Sweetie, it’s ok if you don’t want to tell me all the details, but self-loathing is NOT the way to deal with this.” He chuckled, a small smile forming to try to lighten the mood. “Believe me. I know.”
“Hmm.” Michael was not amused.
It was Emmett’s turn to sigh. “Well, I can tell you need some time alone, so I’ll leave you to it. I’m gonna be just on the other side of that door over there, if you need anything. Okay, sweetie?”
Michael looked at him and nodded in appreciation. Emmett offered him a small smile/frown combo, stood up and gave his back one last comforting rub. Michael placed his hand on top of Em’s right before he turned to walk away, holding it for a second as it slid off his shoulder.
As Michael heard the click of Emmett’s bedroom door shutting, he slunk down against the back of the couch. He groaned loudly and brought his hand to his forehead, his head drooped back over the top of the couch. Even miles apart, he and Brian were in the exact same position.
Suddenly, the doorknob to the left of him began to turn. Hearing its squeak, Michael jumped in surprise, shooting up to a tall seat quickly. He turned and watched in fear as the door to his bedroom slowly swung open.
Ben appeared in the doorway. He was shirtless, wearing only sweatpants. He stood there, looking at Michael, his face completely serious and void of emotion at the same time.
“Is it true?” Ben asked bluntly.
Michael swallowed hard, in shock over seeing him standing there. His eyes widened in terror, his heartbeat pulsing loudly in his ear, the thumping in his chest becoming intolerable.
“Ben, what the fuck are you doing here?!”
The serious, deadpan expression remained. He spoke quickly and deliberately, not taking any pauses.
“I had a class get canceled, I was beat, I came home to take a nap. You didn’t answer my question.”
Michael exhaled slowly, his shoulders falling as he studied Ben. His voice came out small. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” Ben said, blinking once, angrily. “Woke up pretty much when Emmett practically shouted that you fucked Brian.” He gritted his teeth at the end, seething quietly.
Michael was cornered. There was no way out. His eyes filled with remorse, now not only for himself, but for Ben.
“Yeah . . . it’s true,” he muttered, about to cry all over again.
Ben pursed his lips, gave one single, small nod and an audible exhale. He stared at Michael for a second, then sucked his teeth as he opened his mouth to reply.
“Well, I guess that makes us even.”
Without another word, Ben turned and stepped back into the bedroom, closing the door loudly behind him. Michael sat there staring at the door, shaking his head in confusion.
“Makes WHAT even? . . . Ben?!” He blinked quickly, his eyes wide with fear and a plethora of emotions. He jumped up from the couch and darted over to the door, but when he tried the handle there was no luck. Ben had locked him out.
Michael sighed, tipping his head forward to rest against the door as he contemplated the steaming pile of bullshit that had amassed in his life recently. Eventually he turned around, put his back to the door, and slowly slid all the way down to the floor. He propped his knees up and rested his head overtop of his crossed arms, burying his face to weep.

---

Something was telling me to go to Brian’s house.
I hadn’t heard from him, just had a hunch that I needed to see him. Rather, that he needed to see me. I could’ve called to check on him, but since I’d been out running errands in that part of town anyway, it seemed easier to just swing by his place.
He could always tell me to fuck off, if he was busy.
As I approached the door someone else was walking in and saw me coming, so they graciously stood and held it for me. I glanced towards the intercom for a half-second, debating if I needed to try that first, but quickly accepted the offer and stepped in after the stranger.
“Thanks,” I said. The man nodded politely at me and walked off up the stairs. I opted to take the elevator.
I sighed as I reached Brian’s floor. I’d done surprise drop-in visits before, but I was especially nervous this time. I didn’t like the nagging feeling in my gut that I needed to be there . . . because something was wrong.
My mind flashed back to our amazing sexcapades in the Vette the previous night. He’d left me so satisfied that I could still feel him inside me. I cherished the full sensation between my legs as I made my way over to his door, knocking hesitantly at first.
“Brian?” I called. His Jeep was outside, so I knew he was there. However, there was no answer. I knocked and repeated my call to him. Nothing.
Maybe he was asleep? . . . or maybe he was already entertaining a guest.
Sighing, I turned away and took one step back towards the elevator. Then, that nagging feeling crept up in my gut again. Tentatively I turned back towards the door, trusting my intuition, and tried the handle. I wasn’t surprised when it unlatched right away. However, I pulled it open slowly, giving him time to tell me to get lost if he didn’t want company, or was in a compromised position.
“Brian?” I called again, quieter this time, concerned.
The loft was totally dark. Practically pitch black, aside from the light from the hallway behind me. My eyes darted all around but there wasn’t a body in sight. Then, a sign of life.
“Hey,” a quiet voice came from the distance, cutting through the darkness.
It took me a second to locate him. He was seated on the chair in the living room, backlit only by the streetlight creeping in through the windows. I could make out only his outline, and a drink in his hand.
I squinted, attempting to see him better. “Hey,” I answered. “Is it ok that I’m here? I can go . . .”
He cleared his throat. “No, it’s ok,” Brian responded. “Come on in.”
“Okay,” I said, and pulled the door closed behind me.
The mood was heavy, and the darkness only exaggerated it. Brian’s voice had sounded extra raspy, which could mean one of two things. He’d either just been sleeping, or he was wasted.
I hesitantly made my way over to the living room, my eyes slowly adjusting to the low light. I could see more of his features now, and make out the clothes he was wearing. I still couldn’t see his face, however. That is, until I was standing right in front of him.
Brian looked up at me calmly, blinking once. It seemed as though he was waiting for me to open up the conversation.
“Hi,” I said. “Um, I’m sorry I didn’t call or anything.”
Brian bit his lip and shook his head. “That’s alright.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m glad.”
Brian cleared his throat again and bent forward to set his glass down on the coffee table. It was nearly empty, and I suspected that it wasn’t his first. Or second. . . . or third.
As he straightened up again Brian patted his lap. “Have a seat, Princess.”
I tried to read his facial expression, but at the moment it was pretty blank. He just seemed distracted. Considering he’d been sitting alone in the dark, he’d most likely been doing a lot of thinking. I followed his command and cautiously sat down in his lap. Brian swept my legs overtop of his and to the side, positioning me closer. He let one hand rest on my thigh, just below my ass.
Now that I was this close, just inches from him, I could see his face clearly. He looked exhausted. Haunted. Yes, that was the perfect word to sum up how he seemed at the moment . . . haunted.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke his cheek. He didn’t pull away, so I stuck with it.
However, he didn’t look at me. Not since I’d sat down in his lap. He stared out blankly ahead of him, blinking every so often, breathing evenly. Apparently he was still lost in thought.
I knew Brian well enough at this point to dismiss my internal debate over trying to repeat the question. Instead I relaxed my head down into the crook of his shoulder, letting him know I was there. I brought a hand to his chest, stroking it lovingly.
A good few minutes passed. The loft was dead silent. There wasn’t so much as the ticking of a clock. The fridge didn’t even hum. Nothing.
Then, finally . . .
“Michael came over tonight,” Brian said. He exhaled heavily. “To talk about what happened.”
Shit, that explained everything immediately.
“Oh,” I said, lifting my face to look at him. “ And how’d that go?”
Brian cleared his throat and then looked at me for the first time since I’d sat down.
“He left crying.” His voice was light, but his sigh was heavy.
“Oh, shit.” My face was painted with sorrow for him. I stroked his cheek again, as he sat there, just looking at me, seeming totally lost.
“Do you want to be alone?”
He said nothing, but his eyes dropped down. I took that as my cue.
“It’s okay, I’ll go. You can call me when you’re ready.”
I stood and gave him a genuine frown as he looked up at me, his eyes saying so many things he wouldn’t utter with words. My heart was so, so heavy seeing him this way. It was painful.
I turned to leave, but was stopped immediately—by a tender, yet firm, hand grasping mine.
Turning back to him, his eyes already lifted and looking at me, a small smile spread across my lips. He wanted me to stay with him. My heart instantly warmed enough to melt the layer of ice coating the loft.
He wanted me to stay.
I held the warmth, along with the little encouraging smile, as I looked down at him. I rubbed my thumb over the hand grasping mine.
“Wanna go to bed?” I asked quietly.
Brian blinked, then lifted his other hand, gesturing for me to lead the way. To my surprise he held my hand throughout our journey across the loft to the bedroom.
We paused at the foot of the bed. I turned to Brian and he looked back at me. I reached out and ran my hands smoothly over his chest, feeling him breathe beneath me. I looked up at him as I grasped his top button and undid it. No hesitation on his face, he just watched me calmly. I focused as I unbuttoned him the rest of the way down. I ran my hands over his smooth, gorgeous chest and he allowed me to slide his shirt off his beautifully toned arms. I placed it on the chest behind him and then guided us over to the bedside.
Once again Brian gestured for me to take the lead. After kicking off my shoes, I climbed onto the bed and sat up against the headboard, sinking into Brian’s ultra comfy arrangement of like a half-dozen pillows. Brian pulled off his socks, then joined me.
At first he sat there, just staring into my eyes. Almost like he was searching for something. I looked back at him calmly, evenly, breathing and waiting for his next move. Wordlessly, Brian scooted himself down and onto his side, resting his head so innocently in my lap. He curled forward, wrapping his arms around me as he gently closed his eyes.
I ran a hand over his soft hair, playing with it gently to comfort him. My other hand rested at the top of his back, between his strong shoulders. I felt his breathing deepen as he allowed himself to relax further, releasing himself from his mental prison, bit by bit.
“It’ll be okay,” I whispered.
Brian rubbed one of his hands over me, as if encouraging me to continue.
“You’re not gonna lose him.”
Brian’s eyes opened, though he didn’t move. He rested there, looking calmly ahead, blinking every so often. I continued playing with his hair.
“He’ll be alright,” I whispered. “He’ll get over it, and he’ll forgive you. You’ll see.”
With a long, silent exhale, Brian closed his eyes again. Hearing that reassurance, it was as if he could finally let himself off the hook. I held him until he fell asleep moments later. I watched him for a while, breathing deeply, sinking further and further into slumber’s embrace.
“I love you,” I whispered, smiling as I gave his cheek one final stroke.
A yawn escaped me. I grabbed one of the pillows around me and positioned it behind my head. I looked down at him, so beautiful and so vulnerable right before me, then I rested my head back and closed my eyes. As I continued playing with his hair, sleep eventually grabbed hold of me.