Cutting My Losses

The scene that met Brian when he arrived home from work was the same one that had greeted him for the past three days. Justin and Greg were sprawled across his $7,000 white Italian moda sofa eating out of pint-sized containers of Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate-Chocolate-Chunk ice cream. At some point of the day they must have pulled themselves away from the television and sofa to go to the diner because there were empty Styrofoam containers scattered across his coffee table. Brian could only hope that they had the decency to change out of their pajamas before they went. Greg’s feet were propped up on the table in front of him and Justin’s were resting on Greg’s lap. They were watching that god-awful show, House, all the while giving their own little commentary.

“Fuck! He’s so hot, even with the whole morphine addiction and ‘I’m an asshole’ thing he’s got going on.”

“You’ve always had a thing for bad boys,” Justin mumbled around a mouthful of the sweet, chocolate confection.

Brian slid the loft door shut, causing Justin to look up for a second to smile at him before turning back to the television. Brian walked over to the couch, towering over the two oblivious men, and kicked Greg’s feet off the coffee table. “When the fuck are you leaving?”

"Brian." Justin warned in that calm, firm voice he used whenever Gus was on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum.

"When the fuck are you leaving, Greg?"

"Well, I don't know, Bri. I could be here for a week or a month…hell, I might even move here. This loft is pretty awesome,” Greg replied, although he wasn’t serious about the moving in part.

"Do not call me 'Bri.' My name is Brian or Mr. Kinney to you." Brian turned to Justin. “I want him gone.”

"He's a guest, Brian. My guest."

"Well, he isn't my fucking guest, and he's sleeping on my couch, eating my food and watching my---”

"Hey, I could really go for something to eat." Greg had two sets of eyes on him immediately. They must have momentarily forgotten that he was still in the room.

"You're not using my money."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Brian." Justin rolled his eyes and turned to his friend. I’ll pick us up a pizza from Antoon’s. It’s right around the corner.” Justin went into the bedroom to change and emerged minutes later in beige cargo pants and a faded red hoodie. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, guys.” Justin walked out of the loft. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, Greg turned to look at Brian.

"You were killing yourself there, man."

"Excuse me?"

"That yours-and-mine bullshit isn't good for your relationship,” Greg said matter-of-factly.

"So says the person that flew over 2,000 miles to get away from his little boyfriend.”

"Warrick isn't little…by any means." Greg stood up to follow Brian who was walking towards the kitchen. “You know, I may not be a relationship expert, but I do know Justin, and he’s thinking of moving out.” Greg finally had Brian’s full attention.

"I told him he should just stay, but he just kept going on and on about how this place would never belong to the both of you and how he sometimes felt like he was intruding on your personal space. Then he went on this tangent about independence and being his own man, blah, blah, blah. I don’t really remember all of it, kind of tuned him out once he compared himself to some other crazy artist.” Greg let out a small chuckle at his admission before continuing. “I just don’t see his whole reasoning, though. He loves you, and from what I’ve gathered, you love him too. You take care of him and look out for him. You’re even paying for his education. Why---”

"It's just a loan and---”

"It's only a loan because he made that distinction,” Greg pointed out.

"It isn't conditional of our personal relationship."

"So I've heard."

"It's a business deal. An investment,” Brian stated with what he hoped sounded like conviction as he walked over to the refrigerator. He opened the door and peered inside. Take-out containers from several restaurants cluttered the shelves, and from the smell of things, at least one of them was expired. Fucking Greg. Brian pushed past the reeking, leftover Chinese food and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Whatever you say, Kinney. I'm just telling you so you know. Justin’s getting ready to leave this lap of luxury, and if you don’t want him to go, then you need to do something. Just think about it, okay?”

Brian gave a slight nod, really thinking about what Greg had just revealed as he twisted the cap off his water and turned up the bottle to take a swig before setting it down on the stainless steal counter. "You know, Justin still hasn't told me a lot about you. I believe his exact words were ‘He’s my best friend, other than Daph, of course. I’ve known him since I was six. He lives in Las Vegas. He’s a DNA analyst in a forensics crime lab. Anything else you need to know?’ So just how did Sunshine meet a kid from Vegas?”

"And Justin says you never listen. I'm not from Vegas. I'm from California. San Gabriel. I have family in Pittsburgh, though…well, I used to. Now I just have Justin. My parents used to ship me off to Pittsburgh and my Aunt Judy every summer so they could go traveling. Aunt Judy was friends with Jennifer, and Justin used to follow me everywhere. No matter where I was, he would just show up.”

"I know the feeling,” Brian said, reflecting back on some of Justin’s early actions.

"Yeah, he told me about his stint as a stalker."

"I couldn't get rid of him, still can't."

"Like you want to,” Greg rolled his eyes. “You wouldn't believe what happened when I told him I was going off to college and wouldn’t be coming here for the summers anymore.” Greg’s eyes moved to the direction of the loft door as it slowly open. Justin walked in bearing pizza.

"Hey, Sunshine, sit down. Greg was just about to tell me what happened when he told you he was going into college,“ Brian said with a smirk, and Justin groaned in response.

"Please, Greg, do not tell this story. It's embarrassing." Justin set the pizza down on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, now you have to tell it."

"He's right, Jus. I do. It was so cute." Justin just put his head down on the counter as Greg began. “Well, earlier that year I came out to Justin. He was the first one I told. I had known the truth for years, and Justin was 12 at the time. I thought that he was old enough to understand. I gave this really scientific, analytical explanation of it, which, of course, he didn’t understand. I finally just ended up saying that I liked boys instead of girls and would rather have a boyfriend than a girlfriend.

“Well, that summer I had my eighteenth birthday. Aunt Judy threw a small dinner party, and Jennifer, Daph and Jus were the only guests. After dinner everyone gave me their presents, except Justin. He said it was private and he would give it to me later.”

"He didn't offer to give you a blow-job, did he?" Brian inquired.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Brian,” Justin shot back.

"Okay, back to the story now. I told Jen that we were going to hang for awhile. I had to talk to him about the going off to college thing anyway. So after everyone left, I took him up to my bedroom, and he revealed his present. He had drawn this beautiful portrait of me. I still have it framed on one of the walls in my bedroom. Well, Justin gave me the portrait, and then he very politely asked if he could be my boyfriend.” Brian let out a snort, and an embarrassed groan could be heard from Justin.

“Always after the older men, I see. So tell me, Sunshine, how did Greg answer your little proposal? I’m curious.”

Justin looked up from the countertop, his cheeks a little red. "He freaked out at first. He went all fatherly on me and said that I was too young to even be thinking about boyfriends, but I told him that I was mature for my age. After a few minutes, he seemed to gather his thoughts and told me that he was going off to college and he probably wouldn’t be able to visit me in the summers anymore and that we couldn’t really be boyfriends if we never saw each other. He also said that I was his best friend and that best friends can’t really date.”

"Your first heartbreak,” Brian replied, wondering if that was how Michael felt every time Brian shot down his advances.

"You know, there aren't many guys that would turn me down now." Justin gave a mock leer Greg’s way.

"God, don't even joke like that. It'd be like incest. And besides, we’re both taken.”

Justin was sure Brian was going to say something denying that statement, but to his surprise, Brian just nodded slighty as Greg went on about how shocked he was that at eighteen, the first person to ever ask him out was a twelve year old.

XXXXXXXXXX

Brian, Justin, and Greg sat on the floor in front of the sofa, facing the coffee table and television. The television was on some movie channel, and but the volume was turned down low. None of them were really paying attention to what was showing. They were talking, having just started on the pizza.

"So, this boyfriend of yours, what's he like?" Brian said as he took a bite of the greasy mess of pepperoni and extra cheese. He promised himself he would run an extra hour on the treadmill tomorrow.

"Um…well, we work together. He was a chemistry major too. He was born and raised in Vegas, brought up by his grandmother.” Greg picked at his pizza for a moment, stretching some cheese out in a long string as he tried to figure out what else to say. “He can play the piano. Uh…he DJs sometimes. I don’t know. What do you want to know about him?”

"When Brian asks what's a guy like, he's talking about measurements."

"Oh. Well..." Greg looked confused for a moment before trying to respond. “I guess he’s about 6’2”---”

"Not those kind of measurements," Justin interrupted. Greg caught on to what he was saying immediately.

"Now who’s the one with their mind in the gutter, Sunshine?" Brian pushed the pizza box closer to Greg. He had never seen anyone inhale pizza like that. “So how’d you two end up together?”

"Well, like I said, I met him at work. He's a CSI, an investigator. I mostly work in the lab analyzing DNA, but sometimes they let me go out into the field. I don’t get to do any collection or cool stuff like that, but still. Anyway, I had a crush on him almost as soon as I met him. He’s just so…perfect. On top of being built like a god, he’s intelligent and kind. He’s---” Justin could already hear the change in tone that signaled that his friend was about to go off on a tangent about all the things that made Warrick Brown the most perfect person on Earth.

"I am not listening to you expound on the virtues of Warrick Brown for the umpteenth time. Every other week it’s ‘Warrick this’ and ‘Warrick that.’”

"Give me a break. Every other week I have to sit and listen to the virtues of Brian Kinney told by Justin Taylor.”

"Whatever. I gotta go anyway. Daph called while I was at Antoon's. Her car's in the shop and she wanted me to bring her over sometime tonight so she could see you before you go back to Sin City.” Justin pulled on his sneakers and stood up.

"Are you driving?"

"Yeah, I'll just hop in my imaginary car, Brian.” Justin replied sarcastically. “ No, I was planning on taking a cab.”

"Take the 'vette," Brian said, glancing at the keys that were resting on the counter, and Justin looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Okay, Brian,” he said slowly, as if he was talking to an insane person. “Bye, Greg.” Justin grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter and walked out the door before Brian could change his mind.

"So, Warrick has the body of a god? I've been compared to a god once or twice in my lifetime. You got a picture?”

Greg nodded, got up from where he was sitting and quickly moved over to his duffel bag. After unzipping it and rummaging around for a moment, he pulled out his wallet and carefully plucked a picture out from inside of it. "Here's one,” he said, walking back over to Brian and handing it to him. “Yeah, Justin called me that morning after your first night together and told me what happened. ‘I saw the face of God, and his name is Brian Kinney.’ I told him he must have confused the definitions of God and pedophile somewhere along the way.”

Brian lifted an eyebrow. "What'd he say to that?"

"He hung up on me, which really shouldn't have surprised me. He's always had a mind of his own. And I knew I was completely wrong and out of line. I called him as soon as he hung up to apologize. I was still pissed, though, and that’s probably the only reason I said it in the first place. Not to mention that I still thought of him as that little twelve-year-old I left in Pittsburgh. I just couldn’t believe that he went home with a stranger. It was our first real argument.”

"Who won?" Brian asked, still not having looked at the photo Greg had handed of him.

"Well he's still with you, isn't he?" Greg finished his fifth slice of pizza and pushed the box away from him. “That first day or so, I wished he’d never met you, but I got over it. Justin’s going to do whatever he wants so I just sat back and waited for you to break his heart. You did it the next day, and I expected the whole thing to be over.”

"He's a persistent little shit,” Brian said, a slight smile on his face.

"Yeah, he is. He'd mention it if he'd seen you each week. And then certain names kept coming up. Lindsay and Michael and Gus. It wasn’t long before I realized they were your friends and your son. After awhile I figured that he wouldn’t have known so much if you didn’t care about him. So I decided to be happy for him. Justin was happy, and you didn’t seem like such a bad guy. Then there was the prom…” Greg trailed off.

"Your boyfriend isn't bad,” Brian changed the subject as his eyes finally roamed over the photograph he’d been holding. Dark, flawless skin, sparkling green eyes, full lips. Yeah. That Warrick guy definitely wasn’t bad.

"Isn't bad? He's fucking perfect." Greg leaned over Brian's shoulder to look at the picture Nick had taken when the three of them were out at Lou’s.

"I'd fuck him,” Brian said with a nod.

"Like hell you would."

"Whoa, a little possessive are we?"

"Like anyone can be possessive of Warrick Brown. Warrick loves his Grams. He loves his best friend. He loves his sexy ex-stripper co-worker. He loves the guy that mentored him through his entire career. He loves his music and the nightlife and Vegas.” Greg let out a sad sigh.

"And because he loves all that, he can't love you, right?" Brian already knew the answer to that. It was clear as day in the picture that he was holding. Warrick and Greg were in some kind of bar that reminded him of Woody’s. Greg was facing the camera, but it was obvious that neither of them knew that a picture was being taken. Greg’s mouth was open and his hands were in the air as if he was explaining something. Warrick’s eyes were on Greg. He was leaning in close, there was a small smile across his lips, and he looked utterly fascinated by whatever Greg was saying. Brian was sure Greg could be talking about what he ate for breakfast and Warrick would have that same look on his face. “If Warrick didn’t love you, he wouldn’t be with you.”

"So I guess I can tell Justin you love him."

"But then again, if this Warrick guy is causing you so much trouble and you aren't happy, then you should just leave. Get out while you fucking can.” Brian leaned over to pick up the lighter and pack of Marlboro Mediums that were lying on the coffee table. He pulled a cigarette out and lit up.

"Justin wasn't happy so he left. It was the biggest mistake of his life, or so I’m told. Running way isn’t a solution.”

"Isn't that what you did? You took off so you wouldn't have to deal with it anymore?” Brian took a long drag, let the smoke fill his lungs and blew a chain of smoke rings before offering a cigarette to Greg. Greg shook his head no.

"I took a break, a vacation. I didn't leave Warrick. I would never leave him."

"Are you sure he knows that?"

"Why would he think otherwise?" Greg asked, defensively crossing his arms across his chest.

"Why would he think you're committed to the relationship? From what I’ve heard, you guys have been having trouble for the past month or so. At the first sign of trouble, you take off without telling him anything. Hell, you didn’t even leave a fucking note. And you put in for an indefinite leave of absence. You disappeared on him. If you leave every time things get difficult, how is he supposed to know that you want to be with him?”

"Warrick knows I want to be with him." Greg furrowed his eyebrows. Warrick had to know that.

"Like you know,” Brian replied with an exaggerated eye roll. “If you're so unsure of how he feels about you, then most likely he’s unsure about how you feel about him. You haven’t given him any indication that you’re serious about whatever it is you guys have, and you can’t fault him for doing the same.”

"You don't know Warrick." Greg shook his head. "He's not insecure. He knows I love him. I tell him all the time.”

"Words are bullshit. I think running 2,000 miles away without telling him speaks a lot louder than anything you’ve ever said to him.” There was a moment of silence that was broken by the first few bars of “Cowboy” by Kid Rock, playing somewhere behind the sofa.

"Fuck, I hope something didn't happen to Warrick." Greg scrambled off the sofa and back over to his traveling bags. He dug through a few compartments before he found his cell phone.

"Yeah?" he answered, his voice a bit uncertain.

"Where the fuck are you?" Nick demanded in a very pissed off tone.

"Umm...I'm in Pittsburgh."

"And what are you doing in Pittsburgh?"

"Hey, is Warrick okay? He isn't hurt, is he?"

"‘He isn't hurt, is he?’” Nick mocked Greg’s words in a disgusted voice. “Of course he's hurt! Why else would I be calling?” Greg felt his heart stop at Nick’s words. “His inconsiderate boyfriend up and left and didn’t think to let him know!”

"Wait, wait. Just so we're clear, did Warrick get hurt at a crime scene?" Greg asked, a little confused but still very scared.

"What? No. What're you talking about?" Now it was Nick who was confused.

Greg let out a sigh of relief and sat back on the sofa. "Never mind. So what about me being an inconsiderate boyfriend?"

"He's been moping around here for the past three days."

"Moping? Warrick doesn't mope."

"Bullshit. You know that's not true. You saw him after the explosion."

"Nick, I was in the hospital the entire time,” Greg pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess you were. What are you doing in Pittsburgh, man?"

"I'm visiting a friend."

"That's all well and good, but you didn't tell Warrick. What the fuck was that? You know how he jumps to conclusions and blames himself for every little goddamn thing that goes wrong.”

"You seem to think I know a lot more about him than I do, Nick." Greg gave a sigh and sank further into the couch.

"Maybe you're not paying close enough attention. I know he doesn't speak his feelings a lot, but goddamn it, Greg, you know he cares about you. You need to call him.”

"Nick, I'm probably only going to be here for a few more days. I'll just talk to Warrick when I get back.”

"No, you need to talk to him now. Warrick thinks you left him. He thinks the relationship is over. He’s ready to mark this up as another failure, put it behind him and move on.”

"What?" Greg sat up quickly, startling Brian a bit.

"Greg, you're still my friend and everything, but you fucked up big time. I really don’t know if he’s going to listen to anything you have to say. He’s stubborn like that. But if you care about him at all, then you need to call because that stubborn-ass isn’t going to call you.”

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it. I'll talk to you later Nick." Greg closed the phone on Nick's voice, still unable to believe what he’d just been told.

"So that's the Vegas version of Mikey." Brian spoke up. Obviously Greg had forgotten he was still in the room.

"No, Nick isn't trying to get into Warrick's pants. I can't believe you were right. Warrick thinks I left him.” Warrick seriously thought that Greg had left him. And he just accepted it. There were no phone calls, no pleading for another chance. There was no appearance in Pittsburgh, no begging to be taken back. It was like he didn’t even care. Warrick thought he had left him, and he was already moving on.

"So, you're going to call him, right?"

"I'm not sure what to say."

"There's not much else you can do but be honest,” Brian said with a shrug.

"Yeah...umm, you mind giving us a little privacy?"

"I guess I'll go intercept the teenagers before they barge in and give you two a chance to talk.” Brian stood up and put on his shoes and jacket before walking out of the loft and closing the door behind him.

Greg stared at the phone in his hand for a second before pressing three on his speed dial. The phone picked up before the first ring was complete.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Warrick. It's Greg."