One bit of QaF

[harahel]

I've only written one QaF, for my sweet J for Christmas last year. Senseing a pattern?

Breaking New Ground

Summary: The pattern breaks. R




"What the hell am I doing here?" Mike asked himself for the fourth time.

It was always the same. The phone call at the most inopportune times. The breathy calm voice on the other end prying him from whatever it was he was doing. And he would go. A dog to it's master, begging for scraps. He would ease, comfort, caress, never taking more then he was given though he gave until he thought there was nothing left.

The wooden door was thick enough that he couldn't hear anything of what was going on inside. He had a key, of course, so that he could walk in on massive orgies any time he felt the need to mentally flog himself. It was a Russian Roulette to walk in. It could be any number of scenes, some completely domestic and ordinary or something bizarre that involved things he had never heard of.

Today....today he was truly contemplating not going in at all. Stop holding the gun to his head for once and go home. To his empty apartment. Because he'd lost another beautiful, funny, smart lover, who adored him. To be fair, he'd lost Ben over three years ago now to the virus he had when they had begun and had managed to keep hold of him for a good five years before he laid him in the ground. It wasn't his fault this time, he hadn't run when it got bad, hadn't chosen someone else over him. No, he had stayed with Ben for as long as it took and when it was over, he found himself wishing for oblivion. For a while, he had been the bereaved widower. Emmett and Ted had been his constant companions, almost choking him with their cheerful sympathy and understanding. His mother, for once, had understood and kept a warm distance, warning Uncle Vic to do the same.

The grief had settled into a dull aching pain of a wound that allowed him to live his life as usual and even enjoy himself without constant guilt. Sometimes, he was even able to forget. Times like now, when he was standing outside this damn apartment, key in hand, phoned in voice buzzing in his mind those solid words that hit him every damn time,

"I need you."

Knowing that he would do it anyway, he saved himself the horrid awkwardness of standing in the hallway like a witless old man, he slid the key home, twisting it in smooth familiarity.

"You're here! Great." Perfect smooth hands on his arms, pulling him inside. No one else is lying about on fashionably odd shaped couches or in the bed that he can catch a glimpse from where he's standing. Click. Blank. This time. "I have this huge decision to make and I definitely need your help to make it."

"All right. What is it?"

"I think you should sit down."

Mike sighed and settled into a soft chair, throwing his coat off over an arm. *He* didn't sit, to much energy to just sit, he had to practically throw himself at the walls.

"Well?"

"I talked to Brian today. He called, out of the blue....There's a job out in L.A., he said he was chatting up some ad exec there and they mentioned needing someone with advanced computer animation skills for a new campaign. He thought of me, he said. Can you imagine? First fucking time he's bothered to call since he moved out there and he gives me a job. It'd be a trial thing, go out work on the campaign for half a year and if it works out they'd hire me full time, if not, I've got a hell of a thing to put on my resume."

And it's as if the world had stopped spinning on it's axis. Mike can feel his chest tightening up. It's happening all over again as he should have known it was. Just like Brian. Always, always. Even to the end, when the prick had left, finally as he had said he would for so long, for the better job, the more glamorous life, leaving Mike behind with memories. At least Brian had had the decency of leaving him with a replacement.

"That's....that's really great. It sounds perfect."

Dark eyes stared at him, evaluating and Mike stared back. Justin had even aged like Brian, becoming more compact with passing days, looking a little weary around the edges in a way that didn't diminish his good looks. Justin was almost as old as Brian had been when the two had met, a stone's throw away from 28 and looking it. Blonde hair had been grown longer, so that some of it was swept back in an artistic pony tail, the rest falling perfectly down the sides of his face. Dark eyes gazed penetratingly into Mike's, thoughts inscrutable.

It had been Brian's last irritating gift to him. Mike thought of it as his way of saying he was sorry for leaving, so soon after Ben had died. Brian had always known what he needed, even when he wasn't willing to provide it. And more then anything, Mike needed someone to take care of, someone who needed him. So Brian, in the six months between getting the job and moving to L.A., had fostered Justin onto him one last time.

At the time, Mike had been too weak to say no, too tired to realize that the arrogant young blonde had started turning to him. Brian and he had long ago ceased to be an item, though the tension was always there when they were in a room together as they frequently were. Instead, they'd become a strange type of friends, sharing dates and comparing fuck stories, avoiding sore spots. They resonated with each other, two pieces of the same cake. Justin had become part of the group, easing his way in over the two years he'd been with Brian as a lover and then when they weren't anymore....no one had wanted the blonde to leave. He'd become the junior member, the one who had, deep down, a little more hope, a little more promise. So Mike, in his grief, had barely noticed that their friendship had deepened, solidified until Brian had moved for good.

Then, it had been glaringly obvious that where Mike should have faltered, losing his constant companion, there was someone else to hold him up, someone with the same demanding needs and thoughtless ingratitude. A carbon copy with it's own special quirks. Someone else who Mike loved deeper then he could explain, who he wanted more then air, but never did touch. Because he was Justin fucking Taylor, young, beautiful, slutty and his best friend.

"It is perfect." The younger man broke off his stare to smile, a little dreamily at the wall behind Mike's head. "I'd even get out of Pittsburgh. Finally...."

"So what's the big decision that absolutely couldn't wait until I was done with inventory?" He had been in the middle of sorting through a huge shipment of his beloved comics, admittedly taking longer then necessary because he'd been reading quite a few, when Justin had called.

The blonde shifted suddenly until he was crouched right in front of the chair Mike had unthinkably chosen. The pose was one of Brian's, another borrowed affection of eschewing furniture as if it would grab and tie one down.

"I want to ask someone to come with me." The blonde said quickly. "But I'm not even sure I should bother to ask. He has a life here, family, job, all that regular shit."

"What? I didn't even know you were seeing anyone...." The lump that had come when Ben died and liked to frequent his stomach and throat, made it's presence known.

"You wouldn't." The blonde said vaguely. "You've always been oblivious when you don't want to see."

"Well....what's the harm in asking?" He shifted the topic, uncomfortable with a reminder of his willful denial of all things not wanted. "If he says no...you get over rejection pretty well."

"It would be different this time." Justin insisted, he shifted again until he was sitting against Michael's legs. Unconsciously, Mike reached out to fiddle with the loose strands of hair. "And I think if I ask him, he'll think I'm joking."

"Why? Because he knows your reputation?"

"I think that's part of it, but he also doesn't think that I like him enough to have a real relationship. It's weird. I feel like I'm doing it all again." The voice is wistful, a little soft and Mike recognized the tone like a distant echo. It was high school Justin in the backseat of the jeep telling Mike, in no uncertain terms, that he was going home with Brian to lose his innocence and nothing anyone could do would stop him. It was Justin, in love.

"Doing what?" Mike asked, trying to ignore the slight tremble in his own hands.

"Seducing Brian. I remember how it was this constant battle with him, always trying to look my best all the time, trying to be more outrageous then him, trying to be the most desirable. I would have done anything to be worth it to him."

"This guy makes you feel the same way?" The real question is underneath, do you want to have another Brian? and Justin seems to hear it.

"Yes and no. I have to seduce him too, but carefully. Differently. It's the same principle though. Always having to be one step ahead, thinking things through way too carefully. If it wasn't worth it, I would be tired. " The petulant, childlike tone was unmistakably Justin's, but it sends Mike reeling into thoughts of Brian. Who had never said things like this to him. Who had never been able to articulate why one blonde twink had set his world upside down.

"So you're not sure if you even want to be with him long term? You're not exactly an expert on lasting relationships." He twirled a single lock around his finger loosely, enjoying the simple tactile pleasure of it.

"Point. But he's been in a few.... I'm getting old, it's time to settle down."

"Ugh. Don't say that. If you're old, then I'm ancient and I don't think I could deal with that."

"I don't mean in years." The blond tilted his head back a little catching Mike's eyes. "I look around the clubs now, the bars, everything and I feel old. Like I've been running for a long time and I've finally reached the end, but I'm afraid to stop." There was a long pause as Mike groped for the right words.

"Just because you're tired of clubbing, doesn't mean you're old. It makes you a little more mature."

"This coming from a man who owns a comic book shop."

"Not like you don't shop there." Mike reminded him with a sharp tug on light hair.

"Owch. Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe I've out grown the clubbing scene, get ready to settle down like Brian."

Mike snorted.

"I know you haven't talked to him a long time, but he hasn't changed that much." Mike informed him. "Brian is still Brian. Every time we talk he's telling me about the new trick who guessed him at thirty."

"True." A small pause. "But I'm not Brian. And I think part of the problem is that this guy....he thinks I am."

"He thinks your Brian? He knew Brian?" Idly, Mike pulled the elastic from the ponytail and began a light scalp message. Justin purred a little, encouragingly.

"Do you remember the time we got really drunk and instead of going out like usual, we made that whole comic about Dick the Talking Penis?"

"How could I forget, Dick holds a very special place in my heart." He chuckled lightly, remembering how the comic had ended with Dick's monologue on his love of small damp places. "But what's that got to do with..."

"Or the time we painted each others toenails green? Or made up ridiculous nicknames for everyone we knew and insisted on using them for weeks? Or when we just went on that roadtrip to Montreal because you'd never been there and I wanted to score with a boy who spoke French? Or the time we locked Ted and Emmett in the bathroom after they had that huge fight and told them they couldn't come out until they were at least friends again? Or when we visited Ben's grave last year and I let you cry on my shoulder for an hour even though it was freezing and we were dressed for clubbing? Or the time we were rearranging all my stuff into this apartment and we talked about where we saw ourselves in ten years?"

"I remember all of that. It wasn't all that long ago..." Mike trailed off, concentrating on rubbing his fingers in a small circles against pale scalp.

"Are those things you would have done with Brian?"

His hands freeze and he fumbled for an answer, flashes of memory twisting together in his mind, some that Justin had mentioned, some that were related. He thought of Brian in Justin's place that day at the graveyard or when Ted and Emmett had had they're blow out.

"No." He answered finally. "It isn't in him to do those things."

Casually, Justin twisted, forcing Mike to releases his hair and turned, resting his arms on the brunette's knees.

"Then why do think that I'm him? You have such neat boxes for everything." There was a soft sigh slipped in there. "My image may be the same, but I'm not him."

"No, you're not. Maybe your new guy will see that too. You should ask him." He manages to say in sincerely, even though he feels torn up inside. Justin is not Brian, but that doesn't mean he loves him any less then he loves Brian. He loves him differently, in a deeper, mellower way that fit his age. He liked to watch him in action as he had once watched Brian, content that the blonde seemed happy.

"You are so dense sometimes!" Frustrated, Justin leaped to his feet, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I can't believe you're making me spell this out for you."

"Spell what out?"

Justin groaned. He grabbed at the nearest chair and drew it close to Michael's, sitting so they were eye to eye.

"Will you, Michael Novotny, come with me to L.A.?"

The silence was so complete that they could both hear the plumbing running.

Mike opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again, trying to process. He stared at the beautiful young man before him. The man, who had held him in winter at his dead lover's grave instead of going to Babylon's closing night celebration, the man who had walked around for a week with green toenails to cheer him up, the man who wouldn't stand for Emmett and Ted breaking up forever without even trying to patch it up. The man who was asking him to leave his life behind and go with him to a city he knew nothing about. The man who might love him. The man who for the umpteenth time in his life, wasn't Brian.

"Yes." He said finally. "If you tell me why you're asking."

"Because when Brian moved away, I barely noticed. You stepped into this void in my life and you fit perfectly. But then....you needed time and I wasn't ready. Then things got stuck in this weird rut. Us, together, but not. Always inches away."

"So what changed?" Mike surprised himself with the evenness of his own voice. This was too much, all at once and everything he'd wanted to hear.

"I told you...I feel worn out. Like I've been playing a part for all this time and I want to take off the mask. I've been playing at being Brian for so long and I thought when I stopped, maybe I wouldn't feel the same way. I do." Dark eyes closed briefly. "Yes?"

"We've never even really kissed....and I'm old, worn out...."

"You were the one who told me that there was more to love then lust. You were the one who taught me that things on the outside can be enjoyed, but you better understand some things from the inside. Besides, you're the hottest thirty-seven year old fag, I've ever met." He leaned forward farther, breathing lightly against Michael's face. "And the kissing is easy."

Before Mike could protest, the edible looking lips that had been part of his daydreams for years were on him. The kiss was painfully gentle as if Justin was trying to not to scare him. A delicate nibble at his lover lip, a soft lick against his teeth. His body reacted without him, one hand curved around the sweet curve of Justin's cheek, the other alighting on a firm shoulder. The blonde tasted like wine and water. When they parted, it was a little breathlessly, their foreheads pressed together.

"Wow."

"I have my talents." The younger man said mildly. "You're not bad yourself."

"Thanks. I'm a little rusty."

"Any other protests?"

Again, silence fell and Mike traced a pattern with his fingers onto the soft flesh of Justin's neck. There was something here, something strong between them that had built for ages then had come pouring out of them in this moment. He thought about Brian, impatient and cold and then of Ben, intelligent and gentle even at the end. He thought about his mother dating and Uncle Vic patiently living life to its fullest until the time bomb in him exploded. He thought about Emmett and Ted and their shared bed. He thought about loneliness, co-dependance and waiting for a phone call at the end of the day that never came. He thought about his life without Justin in it, what it would mean now. He thought, as always, of Brian and how the brunette had handed him Justin on a plate, take my twink please...and Mike had taken without thinking, drawn him under his wing and mothered him because he needed to and Justin needed it. The diffrence between Justin and Brian....Justin spoke. He articulated, he created, he understood.

"I can be ready to go in a week. Marie can take care of the store for the six months and if we both decide to stay, then I can relocate it. We can come back on holidays to see our parents and our friends."

A soft sigh and Justin looks a little sheepish.

"Will you be mad at me if I tell you something?"

"I don't like the sound of that."

"There's no job in L.A. Brian never called....I needed to know, if you really wanted me, if we could do this...." There was a faint suggestion of tears in Justin's eyes. "You chose me. Over Pittsburgh, your friends, your family... Mike....why didn't you say anything? You would have let me go on forever without knowing you would give up everything for me? Typical of you."

"So you set the whole thing up, so you could find out about my pitiful feelings?" Mike felt anger welling up in him and he stood abruptly, almost knocking Justin over. "I don't need to be manipulated like this!"

"There wasn't another way! The job was the only thing I lied about Mike." Justin stood. "And if you walk out that door, I may never speak to you again, no matter how much I love you."

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"Since when?" Incredulous, Mike challenged him. Did Justin even know what love really was? He wasn't Brian....

"Since the first day you came when I needed you. Brian told me he was leaving and I didn't know who to talk to. Everyone else was tired of my drama with him. I thought you might understand and I called and you came, even though you were dealing with you own shit with him and Ben...... You came and you listened and you made me tea. And I knew. I wasn't lying about that, Mike...I've been waiting for the right time, but I needed an excuse. I tried a hundred different ways, but you were so oblivious...." There is no false sincerity in his voice at and when he pulled Mike closer, he didn't resist.

"I don't know..."

"We won't know if we never try. I want you, Mike, for more then someone who is around when I need them. I want to be around when you need me. I want to come home at night, eat dinner and watch some ridiculous movie on a couch. I'm sick of giving my body to anyone willing." He shook his head as if the simple motion to would toss aside years of wild sex. "I don't regret anything. But I do know that it's over. I'm sick of being the biggest, bestest queer in town. Let someone else do it."

"You can't just change in a day."

"I haven't had a trick in three months."

"What?!"

"Since I decided to make a move. I stopped. You didn't notice?"

"I just assumed....wow."

"Ask Trent if you don't believe me. He's been blabbing about it to everyone who isn't you." Justin smirked. "He even tried to tell you once, but you couldn't hear over the music."

"Yes, years of clubbing has made me deaf, I also need glasses to read and find gray hairs..... Wow. Three months? That's a record." He wanted nothing more then to accept this all, burrow into the warmth of the arms around him and never emerge, but something held him back.

"Why didn't you tell me this after dinner tonight? We're meeting everyone...."

"Because I wanted to tell them all. Right away. If your Mom knows and all our annoying friends, we won't be able to run away from each other. No backing out."

"No backing out." Mike repeated. It sounded final.

"Plus, then I wouldn't have been able to do this." A very Justin like smirk made a reappearance on the face that been so somber through he whole conversation.

With exaggerated care, the blonde leaned down and sucked hard on Mike's neck. Marking him.

"Very nice. Would you like to pee on me as well before we go out?"

"Ha ha, very funny. Now kiss me again before you hurt yourself attempting a comeback."

Wisely, they both stopped talking and let their bodies speak for them. It was a bright day and the sun burst into the apartment, warming it from the outside in. It caressed their bodies as surely as a hand and followed them to the couch where they made out like teenagers, finding each other.

By the time the sun had made it's hasty retreat, Mike felt as if they had always been together like this, soft messy kisses and strange conversations. It was as if his life had been on pause, waiting for this afternoon. Now, he was in motion, languid as it was. Now he could breathe and put away the gun. There was no more surprises waiting behind these doors, at least none as cruel as those that had come before. Justin wasn't Brian. He wasn't leaving. He wasn't denying him anything.

Justin tasted like wine and rain and he smelled like the girlie shampoo he used. He bit his lip when he drew and he liked watching cartoons. He kissed like a god, but whined like a child. He was both young and old to Mike, a child that needed him, a man that wanted him and reconciling the two would take some time, but it would be worth every goddamn second.