Golem

After that, Brian and Julian settled into a routine of sorts. A couple of times each week, one of them would call the other and they would go out to dinner or a movie or share a meal at the loft or Julian's house. Afterwards, they would fuck or make love - or both. Sometimes they would have dinner with Lindsay and Melanie or take Gus to the park, and other times they would hit the clubs, taking care to avoid Michael and his friends.

One Monday several weeks after Brian's breakup with Michael, Julian called Vangard to invite Brian out to lunch. Cynthia informed him that Brian was home, ill. Brian had seemed fine at Babylon on Saturday night, so Julian was instantly concerned. He called the loft, but got no answer. He tried Brian's cell with the same result. His concern quickly turning to outright alarm, Julian pointed his car towards Fuller street.

Reasoning that since Brian hadn't answered his phone he probably would not answer his door, Julian used the key Brian had given him to let himself into the loft. The first thing he noticed was the pungent aroma of pot. The second, the cacophony of grunts and moans coming from the bedroom.

The glass louvers were open, and Julian had a perfect view of Brian fucking some hot, young, blond twink. Without a word, he turned and left, sliding the door shut behind him. Outside, he leaned aga against the wall and slowly slid down to sit on the cold floor.

Some time later, the loft door opened again and the blond trick strode out looking smug and well-fucked. Julian was on his feet before the trick was halfway down the first flight of stairs. He walked past Brian, who was standing in the open doorway in his underwear, and into the loft.

"What the hell are you doing, Brian?" Julian asked, his tone conveying worry and hurt rather than anger.

"Right now, getting high," Brian replied honestly, taking a deep puff off a joint. "Want some?"

"Fuck no I don't want some. And that's not what I meant. Why aren't you at work?"

"I'm taking a personal day," Brian said. He sat down on a barstool and took another hit.

"You took a personal day so you could...what? Get high and get laid? That's responsible," Julian snarked sarcastically. "And what the hell were you doiith ith that guy?"

"It's called fucking," Brian snapped. "You can drop the wounded housewife routine. It's none of your business who I fuck, or when, or whether I choose to take one fucking day off from work."

"Whether you like it or not, Brian, you are my business," Julian said gently, throwing Brian completely off-guard. "I'm worried about you. I think you should talk to someone. A grief counselor, maybe."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian asked in a calm voice, honestly confused.

"That guy - he looked a lot like Justin. Same blond hair, same build, about the same age..."

"You think I fucked that guy because he reminded me of Justin?" Brian asked, incredulous.

"Are you saying you didn't?" Julian asked.

Brian re-lit the joint and took another long hit. He exhaled, and then said "I fucked him because he was hot and convenient, not because he reminded me of Justin. Because he didn't. He couldn't." He took another hit. "Justin....Justin had a great ass, and he sucked cock like he was born to it. He could be this sweet, naive kid one minute and completely diabolical the next. He was smart, and funny, and..." He shook his head slightly. "That guy was just some trick. He was nothing like Justin." He reached out to wrap his hand around the back of Julian's neck. "Or you."

Julian relaxed slightly, and Brian gave him a small smile and leaned in to kiss him. Julian turned his head so that the kiss fell on his cheek instead, and he could feel Brian tense up. He reached up to stroke Brian's hair. "Sorry," he all but whispered. "I know it's kind of stupid, but I don't want to taste him on you."

Brian allowed himself to relax again and pulled Julian into his arms. He kissed his temple. "It's not stupid," he assured him. "I need a shower," he added, immediately disentangling himself and heading for the bathroom.

"Want company?" Julian asked, wanting to let Brian know that he wasn't angry.

Brian smiled and grabbed Julian by the belt-loops, using them to lead him to the shower; his acceptance of Julian's offer to join him was his own strange way of letting his lover know that everything was all right between them.

*

The next morning, Julian awoke to once again find Brian's side of the bed cold and empty. Waking alone in Brian's bed had become an almost common occurrence over the last few weeks, and it had long since ceased to throw Julian off-balance. He showered and dressed quickly, took care to secure the loft when he left, and made his way to the Liberty diner.

Debbie barely even acknowledged that Julian was sitting in a booth, waiting to place his order. Since his relationship with Brian had been made public, the feisty redhead had begun to treat him much more coolly than she had previously. He missed their lighthearted banter and her well-meaning advice.

With a sigh, Julian set up his laptop and waited for it to boot up. Regardless of the silent treatment he was receiving from Deb, the diner was still an ideal location for him to work - and he'd be damned if he was going to avoid the place because the head waitress had a problem with his personal life.

After placing his order with the waitress that Deb sent over to him, Julian slipped on his reading glasses and turned his attention to his computer. He read back over the last few pages he had written and managed to settle almost at once into a good rhythm. He had finished a few more pages by the time his breakfast arrived.

Setting his laptop and his glasses aside, he forced himself to focus on his pancakes before they got cold. As he was finishing his meal, Julian noticed someone approach his booth. Glancing up, he saw a familiar face. He recognized the man who was now standing beside the table as one of Michael's friends.

"Hi," the tall man said with an almost shy smile. "I'm Emmett. Honeycutt. I'm a friend of Brian's."

"Yeah. I saw you talking to him at Babylon the other night," Julian remembered. "Please, have a seat," he offered, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite his own. "I'm Julian."

"I know. I've heard a lot about you. Lindsay just adores you," Emmett replied. He studied Julian's face for a moment, his brows drawn together in a quizzical expression. "You look familiar..."

"Really?" Julian asked, amused. It wasn't uncommon for people to recognize his face but find themselves unable to put a name with it or place where they had seen him.

"Oh well," Emmett said dismissively. "I'm sure it will come to me. Probably wake up in the middle of the night and suddenly remember where I know you from."

"I hate when that happens...hours after you've been trying to remember something and it just pops into your head," Julian sympathized with a smile.

"Anyway, I tried to talk to Brian the other night, and he blew me off - as usual. He tries to pretend he doesn't care what any of think and that he doesn't need us, but..."

"Yeah, I know. He has to be the most frustrating man I've ever known."

"To say the least," Emmett agreed. "Well, since he wouldn't listI waI wanted to let you know that even though Michael's living with me, I'm not choosing sides. Lindsay's filled me in on some of the details of what happened, passed on some of what you've told her. If there's anything I can do..."

Julian covered one of Emmett's hands with his own. "Thank you, Emmett. I appreciate it. And I know Brian does as well, even if he'll never say it."

Emmett gave Julian a hesitant, rather sad smile. "I'm glad he has you to look after him," he said. "I suppose I should let you get back to whatever it was you were doing," he added with a glance toward the laptop.

"It's nothing that can't wait," Julian assured him.

"I should be getting to work, anyway. People to see, parties to plan," Emmett replied brightly.

"Another time, then." Julian gave Emmett a warm smile before turning back to his computer. He had just slipped his glasses onto his nose when he heard Emmett gasp and glanced up to see the man staring at him wide-eyed, the fingers of one hand pressed against his lips.

"Oh my Lord," Emmett said is a hushed voice. "You're Chris Cooper."

Julian's burst of laughter drew the attention of half the diner, but he didn't care. "Oh God, Emmett," he gasped when he stopped laughing. "You've actually read the Chance trilogy, I take it?"

"I loved it," Emmett gushed. "Especially the part in the last book, where Chance thinks he's lost Levi for good..." Emmett broke off, his voice choked with emotion. He rolled his eyes up to look toward the ceiling and blinked hard, trying to keep his tears at bay.

"It's just a story," Julian said gently, reaching out to touch Emmett's hand reassuringly.

"Oh, don't mind me," Emmett said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I'm just a sucker for a good love story," he added rather sheepishly.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Julian assured him.

Emmett looked down at the gentle man holding his hand and smiled. He was used to people - even those closest to him - laughing at his emotional displays. Julian's affectionate acceptance was a welcome change. He could see now why Brian had fallen ass over teakettle for the guy, and he allowed himself a tiny twinge of jealousy that he hadn't found him before Brian did.

*

"I met a friend of yours yesterday," Julian called out as Brian stepped into the loft. He looked away from the stir-fry he was preparing just long enough to give his lover a soft, smacking kiss.

"And who would that be?" Brian asked, wondering which one of Michael's friends had been harassing Julian.

"Emmett Honeycutt," Julian replied, concentrating more on his cooking than the conversation.

"What did he have to say?"

Julian looked up again, smiling over at Brian where he lounged against the counter. "That even though you wouldn't really talk to him last week at Babylon, because you like to pretend you don't need anyone's approval or support, that he's not taking sides in your breakup with Michael. He wanted us to know that he's around if we ever need anything."

"We?" Brian asked, clearly skeptical.

"Yes, 'we.' And if you even think of saying 'there is no we'," Julian said, brandishing his spatula threatening, "I'm burning your favorite Prada boots."

Brian straightened and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He hadn't been about to say such a thing, but if he had been, Julian's threat would have changed his mind. He was fairly certain that his lover's eccentricity bordered on psychosis at times.

"I think it's pretty obvious there is a 'we'," he said quietly, gently tucking the hair back behind Julian's ear.

Julian flashed Brian another smile. "Yeah, I guess it is, at that. Our arrangement may be a bit unconventional, but the sentiment's the same." Brian looked vaguely uncomfortable, so Julian changed the subject. "Emmett seems like a very sweet, very caring person," he said.

"Try 'excessively sentimental' and 'overly dramatic'," Brian corrected, not altogether unkindly.

"Exactly," Julian agreed with a bright smile. "I think it's adorable, and I really like Emmett. In spite of his horrible taste in books." At Brian's raised eyebrow, Julian flushed slightly and explained. "He's read some of my earlier works. My very earliest published works, actually. It was this horrible gay romance series, where the main characters have cheesy names and I over used words like 'turgid' and 'impassioned'. I'm kind of embarrased by it, actually. I even decided to use a different nom de plume when I started writing serious fiction."

"How the hell did you go from cheesy gay romance to serial thrillers?" Brian asked, unable to keep an amused smirk from his face.

"Let's just be glad I did," Julian responded as he turned off the heat under the stir-fry and began to dish it onto the plates. "Otherwise, I would never have needed a better and wiser publicist, and I would never have met you."