Golem

Things came to a head almost six months after Julian signed with Vangard. Michael decided to surprise Brian at work one day and take him out to lunch, but Michael was the one surprised. As he was making his way up to the front doors of the office building, he saw Brian standing on the steps with an unfamiliar man. He assumed the guy was a client and ignored his presence as he jogged down the sidewalk toward the steps. Just as he was about to call out a greeting to Brian, he saw his lover lean forward and kiss the stranger.

He forgot to breathe for a moment as his whole world came crashing down around him. When his heart started beating again, pounding erratically in his chest, he turned around and walked away.

*

Brian breezed into the loft after work, the same as he always did. Usually he would bitch about work a little, pausing only to kiss Michael on his way to the bedroom to change clothes. But this time when he walked into the loft, he sensed that something was off- kilter. Michael didn't greet him at the door or even say `hello.' He just stood by the window, arms crossed tightly across his chest, staring out at the city beyond.

"Michael?"

"Who is he?" Michael asked, his voice deadly calm and quiet.

Brian felt like he'd had the breath knocked out of him, but he didn't let it show. "Who is who?" he asked.

"Cut the bullshit, Brian," Michael yelled, turning away from the window. "I saw you with some guy today. I want to know who the fuck he is."

Brian looked away, unable to face the hurt in Michael's eyes. "His name's Julian. He's a client."

"A client that you just happen to be fucking!" Michael snapped.

"No," Brian replied calmly, turning to look Michael in the eye. "I never fucked him. I wouldn't do that Michael. I'd never put you at risk."

"You were supposed to say you wouldn't do it because you love me," Michael said in a hushed voice.

"I do love you, Michael. The same way I always have." Brian met Michael's glare unflinchingly, unsure whether he wanted Michael to understand the meaning behind his words. From the stunned expression that settled over Michael's face a moment later, he understood completely.

Michael leaned heavily against the wall as all of the anger flooded out of him to be replaced with disbelief and bone-deep anguish. In a few quick strides, Brian was standing by his side.

"Michael," he murmured, reaching for his friend.

"No," Michael protested weakly, holding up his hand in a defensive gesture. "Don't."

Brian ignored the protest and pulled Michael into his arms. He held him tightly and stroked the back of his neck soothingly. "I thought I could make you happy," he explained in a hoarse whisper. "At the time, that was all that mattered. But it was…it was never what you thought it was, Michael. It was all just some fucked-up version of a fairy tale. You deserve better than that. And so do I."

Michael clung to Brian desperately. He didn't want to hear the cutting words, didn't want to know the truth. He wanted back inside the fucked-up fairy tale, back where he was safe and loved. He didn't like that Brian was, for the first time in a very long time, talking to him about his thoughts and feelings. He had recognized that Brian stopped doing that after Justin died, and he had missed it, but now he just wanted Brian to go back to bitching about work or talking any one of a hundred other safe, normal, things.

But for once Michael's eyes were open. He knew there was no going back.

Pulling away from Brian, Michael clamped down on his emotions. There would be time for drama queen theatrics later. Right now, he had to finish this.

"So, it's over," he said. It wasn't really a question, but it came out sounding like one. Brian didn't answer verbally, but his eyes and his body language confirmed to Michael that it really was over. They were over. "I'm going to Ma's," he said. "I'll get the rest of my stuff later."

Brian just nodded and then watched silently as Michael picked up a duffle bag that he had obviously packed earlier in the day and walked out of the loft.

Relieved in a way, but raw and hurting nonetheless, Brian slowly climbed the steps to the bedroom, undressed, and crawled into bed. He wished idly that he had Gus there to snuggle up with; the small boy's presence always soothed him, even when Gus was in a temper and driving everyone insane with his tantrums. He hesitated for a moment, and then reached for the phone. Hesitated again, and then set it aside, reaching for a cigarette instead.

For a long while, he just lay there smoking and thinking. Finally he forced himself to get up again, dressed carefully in his best fuck-me club wear, and headed out into the night.