Daylight filtered through the blinds onto Justin and Brian, sitting on the Loft couch.

Brian kissed Justin, pulled back. “So you blew off Church with Mom.” He was out of his dark tee in a fluid move, set it on his lap.

“I wanted to see you. Can’t stay long, though. I have a lot of work to do-” Justin whipped off his sweater, spread it on the cold leather beside him. “-but I don’t want to get into that. Dinner’s set for next Sunday. Why didn’t you ever come to Mom’s for dinner before?”

“Because you never asked?”

“Oh,” Justin winced. Come to think about it…

“And I probably would have said no anyway,” Brian added. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything offensive.”

“But I want you to be you.”

Brian mulled tongue-in-cheek, let it pass. “Right now…” he unbuttoned Justin’s pants, “…I think we should…” unzipped them, “…unwind a little.” One arm eased Justin back onto the sweater, the other hand stroked hard cock through cotton briefs.

Justin watched Brian shift to stretch out and loom over him. “You know, there are ab-men…pec-men…”

“Up.”

Justin raised his hips, felt a hot hand slide his pants down, spread the tee, squeeze a cheek. “You’re definitely an ass. Ow! No pinching!” he rubbed the spot, dropped flat.

“That was one crack too many.”

“See? Ass. Definitely.”

“What about you?” Brian flung Justin’s pants aside, quickly shucked his own pants and settled between Justin’s legs.

“Umm…eyes,” he closed his as Brian lowered onto him, breaths heavy. “Lips.”

“What a coincidence,” Brian kissed him.

“But mainly…” Justin looked down, grasped Brian’s stiff cock and worked it slowly.

Brian expelled a long breath through his open mouth. Justin’s hand undulated with a sensual touch. So different from tricks who used rigid motions like they were cleaning off a rolling pin. “So you like cock, and I like ass. I’d say we’re a match.”

“I don’t mind a little ass.”

“Are you asking?”

“No. But if I do, you’ll be the first one to know.”

“And if I disagree?”

Justin watched Brian’s eyes drill unblinking. “I’d still like cock.”

Brian dove into a deep, long kiss. He had his own definition of equality: This is what I’m like. This is WHAT I like. No explanation, no apologies. Take it or leave it – equal choice.

Justin kissed back with intensity. I understand, I accept. This is what I’m like. This is WHAT I like. This is part of why I’m with you.

The doorbell razzed.

Motion froze as both eyed the intercom.

“That better not be my fucking Mother,” Brian snarled, dick in retreat.

“Brian.”

“All mothers fuck, or we wouldn’t BE here. Happy?” Brian grabbed Justin’s briefs and dropped them on Justin’s waning passion as he jumped up, yanked his tee from under Justin and got into his own clothes. “I should make the…lady…wait.” He thumped barefoot to the com, pressed the button, “Yes, he’s home,” spun toward Justin whizzing into his clothes. “And I’m not hiding you anywhere, either.”

A knock on the door. A quick scrape open. Emmett. Looking like a bad night.

“Brian. I was…uh…walking by and…is Justin here?”

“Em?” Justin came toward him. “What’re you doing here?”

Emmett met and embraced him. “Teddy and I are over.”

“god, I’m sorry,” Justin held tight. “What happened?”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just the doorman,” Brian rolled his eyes, shut the door and stood watching Justin guide weepy Emmett to the couch.

The doorbell again. Brian buzzed entry without using the com, waited for a knock then shoved the door open. It would serve the old bitch right to walk into a fucking orgy.

Michael. In a mood to kick a dog.

“Ben walked out.”

Brian wordlessly extended an arm toward the living room.

Michael tramped past him, “We got into this-” noticed Emmett and Justin. “Emmett?”

“Mikey,” Emmett sniffled and shuffled toward him, Justin tailing, “Ted left.”

“Ben left, too,” Michael wrapped arms with Emmett.

Brian crossed his arms. “Where’s the fiddler when you need him.”

Justin stepped over to Brian, low-toned from the side of his mouth, “Are you just gonna stand there and be insensitive?”

“You’re right. I’m going out.”

Brian hustled to the bedroom, got into shoes and coat and departed fast enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“What was THAT about?” Michael quizzed.

Justin shrugged, “Brian left.”

“Oh, Babeeee,” Emmett gathered Justin into a crushing hug.

Michael joined with a pat on his shoulder. “You know how he is.”

Justin’s face twisted. These guys were so out of context.

Ben and Ted sat across from each other at a Liberty Diner table – Ben twiddling a teaspoon on a napkin and Ted staring blank as an upright corpse.

“It wasn’t Tom,” Ted finally sighed. “It was the idea of Tom. That somebody…was interested in ME for a change. And had some interesting things to say.” His eyes rose to Ben. “What should I do? I mean…how do I face Emmett again?”

Ben leaned forward on folded arms. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”

“I thought you tried that with Michael.”

“It helps if the other person listens,” Ben leaned back.

“I can video-tape an explanation. I’m good at that.”

“I’m good at writing, but one-sided isn’t communicating.”

Brian slid in beside Ben. “Anyone care to know what I’m good at?”

“A third disinterested party,” Ted sparked.

“Interested ones only.”

“Ben and I are discussing how to settle an argument.”

“You’re arguing about arguing? Is this Seinfeld?” Brian flagged a waiter. “Coffee. Black.”

Ben looked at Brian. “You and Justin are living together, and you’ve never disagreed on anything?”

Brian held back. Living together. Where’d they get that idea-assumption or Justin? “We have a different kind of arrangement.” His arriving coffee made a good diversion.

“Yeah, well…bizarre as it seems, it may be the only one left standing,” Ted muttered.

IfTHAT wasn’t the pot calling the kettle. Brian stopped mid-reach for sugar, pulled back and scanned his morose tablemates. “We should all-”

“-watch a movie? We’re getting into a blame game now, and I think we need to cool off a little,” Justin grabbed the remote, eyed Emmett on the couch beside him.

“Fine,” Emmett crossed his arms.

“Whatever,” Michael sat static beside Emmett.

Justin tapped the control and the room filled with the theme from the original Charlie’s Angels. The men shot each other glances.

“Nah,” Michael scrunched a face.

Justin hit another channel.

“Oh. The Witches of Eastwick. Love this,” Emmett smiled.

Another Blonde-Brunette-InBetween vindication flick. They viewed the screen, then each other’s hair. A round of Maybe-nots and Nahs followed by a channel-change.

“The First Wives Club?” Michael groaned as they all again exchanged glances.

“This is too weird,” Justin clicked the set off.

The loft door scraped open, startling Justin to a stand, the others following suit.

“Honey, I’m ho-ome,” Brian shrilled, “And we have guests.” He slid the door full open, leaving Ted and Ben as wide-eyed as their partners. “Well?” Brian coaxed the men in, casually strode to his bar. “I said the bar was open on Sunday. Name your conversation starter,” he opened a filled cabinet.

Ben stepped in, eyes on Michael. “Thanks for the invitation. But I think we’re leaving?”

Michael raised a small smile. “Yeah.” He moved to lift his jacket from a bar stool, nodded to Justin, Brian, “Catch you later.” He and Ben left, took the stairs.

Emmett touched Justin’s shoulder, gave a quiet, “Bye, Baby,” then to Brian, “You’re not such a Big Bad Wolf,” as he snatched his coat on the way to join Ted, still on the landing. Their grim faces said hopeless-but-not-lost as they took leave.

Brian gave a cheery wave, slammed the door. Two birds with one stone-helping out friends and getting his Loft back.

Driving the deserted streets, Ben took talk lead, glanced at Michael staring straight ahead.

“Did Brian give you some feedback on that pitch?”

“He was busy with Justin.”

“You didn’t even try to ask him, did you?”

“I told you-”

“I heard an excuse. Michael, you’re up half the night worrying…you’re killing yourself over things because you won’t let anybody help you.”

“I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I can handle it.”

“Nobody’s asking you to be a useless spectator-”

“Like David?” Michael crossed his arms in dark memories.

“Forget David. Use your head, Michael. I want you back like before…joking, smiling, butting into people’s lives and bouncing back alive. The guy I love. Not some tensed-up businessman. You can take charge, but delegate. It doesn’t mean you can’t handle it. All it means is you’re sharp enough to know how to handle it better.”

Michael sat in thought, looked over and saw Ben’s periodic glances – like he was waiting for an answer to a question. “I’m listening,” he retorted.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah,” Michael softened. “You want us to be number one again.”

Ben finally smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re not smart. I know your secret identity.”

Ted turned up the heat in a car that seemed too chilly until Emmett finally spoke.

“It’s my fault. We have nothing in common…” he palmed an eye, watched the passing scenery through the side window. “Why do I do these things.”

“Because we DO have something in common,” Ted stared straight ahead. “We were both coming off relationships that were real. And meaningful.”

“Blake,” Emmett whispered.

“And George. I guess it seemed so much easier…because we were there, and available…”

“…to hang onto each other.” Emmett sighed, looked straight at Ted. “We weren’t really ready to move on from them, were we?”

“Maybe not. But we will, and before that happens,” Ted finally looked at Emmett. “I want my friend back. The one who keeps me grounded and pushes me away from doing…exactly what I did.”

Emmett smiled, pat Ted’s hand on the wheel. “That friend never left. He was just here thinking the same things.” Then he perked up. “So. How’s this Tom?”

Ted shied, “You don’t want to know about-”

“Of course I do. Di-ish.”

Ted paused, did a little nod, “We talked about computer programs.”

“How exciting,” Emmett faked a hand-to-mouth yawn.

“It WAS. I’ve been thinking of selling the porn site, and-”

“You never told me that.”

“It’s the kind of boring work talk you save for your friends.”

“I’m not sure why…but I feel honored,” Emmett pulled at his sweater collar,“And why is it so hot in here?”

Ted smiled, turned down the heat. It wasn’t needed in their fresh, unguarded and open atmosphere.

Brian sprawled naked on his back in bed, relieved by the peace and promise of relief.

“Finally,” Justin smiled, lifted a knee to straddle facing him.

“Turn around.” He watched Justin’s head tilt, brow quirk. “Indulge me.”

Justin grunted and did a backward mount that mated cocks, heard Brian’s breath hisswhen he settled his weight. Felt a hand on his back, pushing him forward against rising thighs and knees. He crossed one arm atop Brian’s knees, rested a cheek on it and looked at the two framed drawings on the bedroom wall: his drawing of Brian, and Brian’s sketch of him.

“Brian…why don’t you draw anymore?” His other hand slow-stroked both dicks.

“It’s not in me. Not like you.”

“I always felt…like it flowed through me from somewhere else.”

“That’s bullshit. Your art is you. From you. Nowhere else.” Brian ran his hands along Justin’s bodylines, savored the sassy pelvic tilt Justin always did. Made for better access and great presentation. Then he noticed Justin’s stare. “You can take the one if you want.”

“No. They belong together.”

“Then take them both.”

“They stay here.” Because I don’t need the reminder, but maybe you do. “I’ve got plenty of wall stuff.”

“So when’s the housewarming party?”

“Not till it’s fixed up. I haven’t told anyone yet. Mmmm,” Justin wrapped one arm around Brian’s legs, kept up the hand-job, closed his eyes. “Thought you gave up drawing.”

“I just got inspired.” Brian’s one hand had spread Justin open, the other leisurely fingered lube up, around, over his hole. He watched its responses, smiled-I broke that little cherry. Changed my perspective. My whole fucked-up life.

Justin felt Brian’s heat, his hand guiding him to rise a little, heard the condom wrapper.

Brian positioned his cockhead, pulled Justin’s hips. He watched Justin’s head drop back, felt the little break past his tight ring, heard the long moan. Swore he gained two inches just from the sight and feel of Justin’s taking his shaft, inch by inch, up that beautiful ass. Until all left was the pulsing adjustment prelude to the real ride. He gripped Justin’s waist.

“Lie back. You won’t tip. I got you.”

Justin stretched his legs long between Brian’s bent legs . When his body rested on Brian’s chest, and Brian’s arms locked around him, he felt Brian deep inside and out, closing from all directions.

Brian wrapped around him like a shield against anyone who ever did or might ever try to steal him. Not the best angle for a kiss. But it was the one more thing needed. So they made it work.

I want you to stay here-Brian thought so loudly he almost said it, but didn’t.

I want to come back-ached in Justin’s throat, but his mind said: not yet.

Reservations about living together again.

Song: “All I Need” by Air

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