Golem

Try as they might, the Liberty Avenue crew couldn't get any information out of Michael. And they didn't dare ask Brian. The best they could manage was second hand reports from Emmett, who told them that Michael was spending quite a lot of time with Brian - who never came to his and Michael's apartment anymore unless it was to spirit Michael away somewhere - and that Michael hardly ever slept in his own bed anymore. In front of their friends, Brian and Michael acted much the same as they always had, with one major exception: Brian no longer disappeared with nameless tricks several times a night. In fact, he stayed well away from Babylon's backroom and tricks in general.

"It must be love," Emmett concluded, though he could hardly believe it to be true.

A couple of weeks after the episode in the diner, Michael announced that he was moving in with Brian. Emmett was hardly surprised. The others, however, were taken completely by surprise, despite seeing the changes in Brian's behavior. The two were inundated with unsolicited advice until Brian politely told everyone to go fuck themselves.

It was only after he moved into the loft that Michael realized that Brian wasn't exactly happy. He said and did all the right things, but something was just...off. Michael couldn't figure it out, but he resolved to fix it. If he just loved Brian enough, and showed him often enough, surely things would change for the bettHe tHe tried to talk to Brian once about what was bothering him. Brian hadn't answered, but after that he seemed to be happier. Michael thought that maybe he had just needed a little reassurance.

In truth, Brian had only been made aware of his more telling behaviors and corrected them, effectively hiding his real feelings from Michael.

*

They settled into a routine - the happy hetero-style life that Brian had always sworn he would never live. They stayed in more often than not, snuggled up in front of the TV. They went out on dates, spent weekends in romantic environs, and did all the little things that couples do. Michael was too happy to wonder why Brian was acting so out of character. He assumed that Brian had just needed the right man to bring out his romantic side.

One night, a few months after Michael moved into the loft, Brian didn't come home from work. In fact, he didn't come home until three in the morning. When he did show up at the loft, he was a fucking fall down mess - drunk, at the very least, though Michael suspected he might have scored who-knows-what from Anita along with it. Michael saw the bleakness in Brian's eyes and was taken back to the many times Brian had shown up at his door - piss drunk - after a visit with his father. He was in much the same state now as he had been all of those times. But Brian's dad had been dead for quite some time, and Michael honestly had no idea what else could have affected Brian this way.

The times when Brian had shown up after visiting his dad, he usually rambled drunkenly about his conversations with the man; tonight, he was eerily silent. Michael tried to get Brian to tell him what was wrong, but he refused.

"Leave it, Mikey. Please?" he begged.

Michael left it alone. He undressed Brian, tucked him into bed, and climbed in beside him. Brian cried silently for the first time since Justin's death while Michael held him, never making the connection. Brian felt vaguely guilty even in his drunkenness for turning to Michael for comfort while mourning Justin.

Brian spared Michael the hurt of learning exactly what was wrong that night. He didn't tell him that he had found a photograph of Justin in his desk at work, while looking for something to stave off a headache. He didn't tell him that he had stared at the picture for what felt like forever, tracing the familiar contours of Justin's face. He didn't tell him about the sudden realization that he could no longer remember Justin's scent, or the way he tasted. The sensation of his silky blond hair slipping between his fingers. The feeling of sliding into his body. He didn't explain that he had been so overwhelmed with the pain and guilt of forgetting that he had left work early to drink himself into oblivion at some breeder bar.

He didn't tell Michael any of this. And he likely never would.

The next morning, he apologized for worrying Michael and assured him that he hadn't fucked anyone, that even in his drunkenness he hadn't forgotten his promise of monogamy.

After that, no more was said about that night. They both put it aside, Michael trying to forget it, and Brian trying desperately to remember…anything.

*

As time passed, it became more apparent to the members of Brian's unconventional family that things in the Kinney-Novotny household weren't quite as they were purported to be. On the surface, Brian and Michael seemed to have the perfect relationship. Brian played the role of attentive boyfriend well, and he managed to keep his inner demons confined to the darkest recesses of his mind. Occasionally, the couple would put in an appearance at Babylon or Woody's, but more often they could be found at the loft or having dinner with Lindsey and Melanie.

Lindsey tried once to get Brian to open up to her about whatever problems he and Michael were having, but he insisted that everything was fine and changed the subject. She had to admit that Brian and Michael seemed happy together, but there was something…off. Something she just couldn't put her finger on.

Until one night some three years after Justin's death, when Michael and Brian joined her, Melanie, and Gus for dinner. That night she saw a spark in Brian's eyes that she hadn't even realized was missing.

Whatever had caused the change, Lindsey was glad to see it. It was good to have a little of the old Brian back.

*

A few weeks before Brian's thirty-third birthday, Gardner came to him with a gift of sorts: a file for a new prospective client and an advance copy of the prospect's latest novel. Brian barely glanced over the dossier before tossing it onto his desk.

"I'm not a fucking book publicist," he said.

"You are now," Vance replied. He proceeded to explain to Brian that the potential client - an author named Ian Christopher, whom Brian had never heard of - had been referred to Vangard by a longtime friend. Christopher was a best-selling author who was disappointed with his publicist's mediocre work. Having Christopher for a client could prove to be more than a little lucrative - especially if his father, a big name in the telecommunications industry, was impressed enough to follow his son's move to Vangard Advertising.

Brian had lost some of his drive in the past three years, but he was still ambitious. The money the client would bring in would be great, of course, but the challenge of doing something slightly outside of his usual field was what won him over. He dove into research, learning everything he could about book publicity. He made time to read the massive novel that Gardner had handed over to him as well, and tried not to feel guilty when Michael complained that the potential account was taking up all of his time.

"Its business," he reminded him. He knew Michael was feeling left-out, as he always did when Brian became immersed in his work. In an effort to make peace, he asked Michael to read the novel as well so that he could bounce some ideas off him. Michael, thankfully, was momentarily appeased, leaving Brian to get his work done in peace. An incredibly short amount of time later, Vance scheduled a meeting between Brian and Ian Christopher. Brian had been known to accomplish more in less time, but that had been before….that had been in the past. He'd never felt half as stressed then as he did now. The fact that Michael was back to moaning and groaning about Brian's work schedule wasn't helping matters. Brian ended up walking into the meeting with Ian Christopher almost twenty minutes late and with a pounding headache. Fortunately, Cynthia managed to cover for him, inventing some excuse or other to explain his tardiness.

"Mr. Christopher," Gardner said as Brian strode into the conference room, "My partner, Brian Kinney. Brian, this is Ian…"

"Julian," the man seated by Vance interrupted, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. He stood and extended his hand to Brian. "Julian Cooper-Smythe."

Brian raised an eyebrow, and the man flashed him a smile. Brian hesitated for a moment, taking in Julian's appearance. He was fairly tall, perhaps only an inch or so shorter than Brian, with dark, essivssive eyes and long, coffee-brown hair. He seemed to have an affinity for silver jewelry, if one could go by the hoops in his left ear and the plain bangle bracelet that graced his right wrist. Julian was dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a black button-down shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up above his elbows. Both the bracelet and the dark shirt set off the natural, sun kissed tan of the arm that Julian extended toward Brian, and he idly wondered if the man was that perfect honey-brown shade all over. He processed all of this in a split-second, and then shook the other man's hand, holding on to it a heartbeat longer than propriety allowed. Julian's smile widened in response.

The two men took their seats, and Brian was once again all business. He launched into his spiel, pleasantly surprised when Julian interrupted him often with pertinent, intelligent questions. It didn't take long for Brian to convince Julian tre hre him as his publicist.

With the preliminary research done, Brian could relax a little even as he began work in earnest on promoting the newest Ian Christopher masterpiece. Brian had to admit that Julian's former publicist had been right about one thing - the name Ian Christopher looked much better on the cover of a novel than Julian Cooper-Smythe.