A/N: SORRY short chapter again. I know, I know. I promise, I will get to the good stuff soon. A.k.a. Justin in a few chapters... “You take longer than I do!” Emmet banged a fist on the fitting room door. “But I have so much better taste than you do!” Brian reasoned through the ugly metal confinement. “See?” And he swung the door open, nearly landing a surprised Emmet on his ass for the second time that day. Once he had recovered from the near-assault, Emmet sucked in a sharp breath at the sight before him. Damn. He did have good taste. “No wonder he was all over you.” He spun a gloating Brian around, admiring just how well the suit fit him. “And I thought he looked good. God, you two must have been gorgeous, twirling across the dance floor.” He trailed off sadly. Brian’s look fell somber, and he sighed heavily. “So I’ve heard.” He let a slight smile light his features before huffing preparedly. “So. This is it, then?” He took a chance to admire himself in the mirror once more. And then the scene suddenly shifted. He was looking at himself, four years ago. He was looking at himself nervously in his bedroom, wondering if he looked good enough for his Sunshine, wondering how he’d react, how they’d all react. Wondering why the hell he was even going. It was completely against the Brian Kinney code. And for about two tenths of a second, he’d thought about not going, but he’d imagined the sunshine smile he would receive when he walked up to his boy, and that was enough for his assholey resolve to slip. Present Brian smiled sadly as he watched past Brian walk out the loft door, swinging the scarf around his exposed neck. He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey.” Emmet whispered soothingly. “It wasn’t your fault.” The words echoed through his mind, pulling him from the present once again. Justin held a hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly. “It wasn’t your fault.” He whispered, but Brian refused to look at him. Because he knew that if he did, he would lose himself in the bright blue orbs, and it would all come crashing down. And he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let him know how much pain he was in. He couldn’t put him through any more. Brian was supposed to be the strong one. Justin was the one that was always supposed to queen out. It was one of his endearing qualities. But Brian, no, Brian was supposed to be the one with open arms. He was supposed to be the comforter, not the comforted. God, he hated pity. But when he felt slender arms slide around his neck, he willingly leaned into the warm, familiar touch. And that was when it began. The mask had started to slip, the he walls had started to come down, and whatever other metaphors that were used to desribe his unfeeling personality had started to fail. One piece at a time. One Sunshine smile, one lost argument, and one small favour at a time. “BRIAN.” Brian’s wandering concious snapped back to reality as a loud voice echoed through his head. The world came flooding back and he found Emmet’s worried face in front of him. “You okay? I’ve been calling your name for like the past five minuites.” Concern was laced heavily within his high-register voice. Brian cleared his throat distractedly. “Yeah. ‘M fine. Just… got distracted by how hot I look.” Emmet did not look convinced. “Really. I’m okay. I spaced out, that’s all.” Emmet still did not look convinced. “Okay, I’ve already let my emotional guard down about 5 times today, there is no way I’m going to do it again, so don’t even try.” He reasoned. “Now will you please let me in the dressing room so that I can go purchase this ridiculously attractive suit and get the fuck out of here before I die of nostalgia.” He closed his eyes briefly in a vain attempt to gather himself. Emmet stepped aside slowly, but only on the basis that Brian had actually said ‘Please’. “Sure thing, baby.” He whispered quietly. “Sure thing.” The fitting room door closed again, the walls went up again, and Emmett was left alone in the middle of a designer tux shop wondering, yet again, how in the world Justin ever got through to this man. ----------------------------- “I’m putting you in charge of Justin.” Brian explained as he pushed open the shop door. A refreshing springtime breeze whipped across both men’s uniquely sculpted faces. “Oooh, sounds fun.” Emmet squealed michieviously. “In charge of his clothes, asshole.” Emmett put a mock pout on his face. “Do you remember what he was wearing that night?” His tone was serious again. Emmetts face lit up with pride. “What kind of queen do you take me for? I can’t even remember my own fabulously-put-together outfits? I’m appalled, Mr. Kinney.” He replied playfully. Brian smirked slightly. “Oh, I forgot. That’s your only talent. Besides, of course, being the biggest nelly bottom in all of gay Pittsburgh.” He quipped, before turning to look Emmett in the eyes. “I’m gonna need you to get him in that again. For Friday.” He said firmly. Emmet hesitated. “But what if he doesn’t want to wear it? Knowing my baby, he probably has some fabulous ass-hugging ensemble all picked out…” “Then force him to, goddamnit. Tie him up if you have to.” “Ooh, kinky.” “Asshole.” “Love you too, Brian.” “And Emmet?” They had nearly reached the ‘Vette when Brian had stopped abrubtly. “Yeah, Bri?” “I’m the only one allowed to notice the ass-hugging qualities of my baby’s ensembles. Got it?” Emmett willed himself, as hard as he could, not to burst out laughing. “Got it.” He replied with a smile on his face that could nearly rival Justin’s. Nearly. Sort of. Well, not really, but who the hell could? He settled himself into the leather once more as a yawn escaped his lips. “I haven’t worn you out have I?” Brian asked, not the least bit concerned. “No, no.” Yawn. “Of course not.” “Good. Because I’m dropping you off at, uh, wherever you got his quote ‘fabulously-put-together’ outfit.” Emmet looked at him puzzled. “You’re not coming with?” “I… have something I need to take care of.”