~*~ Michael watched impatiently as Brian stumbled from the backroom, obviously drunk or high or God knows what. He knew Brian well enough to know the signs… to know when he was fucked up, and tonight wasn’t any different than the past four nights. Not that he was a fall down mess, but clearly, he was managing pain in true Kinney style. Michael stood his ground, his arms crossed in front of him until Brian finally noticed and started making his way in his direction. “Jesus, you look like shit.” “I’m beautiful.” Brian’s eyes traveled beyond him, eyeing the crowd before he threw his arms over Michael’s shoulders and focused on his face again. “Always beautiful. You told me that once.” “What the fuck’s wrong with you, Brian? You’ve been this way practically the entire time I’ve been here,” he complained. Brian shrugged and closed his eyes, leaning all the way against him. “No preaching. I’m on vacation.” He pulled away and held up a bump, which Michael refused. “This isn’t you being on vacation. This is you avoiding your problems like you always do.” His voice softened. “You know you’ll find another job. I’m sure New York has plenty of agencies more than willing to fight over you.” Brian took another step back and Michael watched him lift the vial and inhale. He sighed, disappointed. “You’ve done enough.” Brian laughed. “Never enough! We’re celebrating! You and me back in glorious Pittsburgh!” “Yeah, just like old times. You getting wasted and me taking you home.” “I’m fine,” he argued, kissing him, no doubt to keep him quiet. “Or I will be when I get another drink.” He turned around and walked away, leaving Michael staring after him. It took only a few seconds before Michael saw the tall, chiseled brunet in Brian’s path. He hurried to catch up… to intervene, but it was too late. Brian was already at work. “Order for me,” he said, his eyes raking down the trick’s chest. “This won’t take long.” Two times in ten minutes. “Brian…” Ignoring him, Brian walked up to the guy and placed his hand on his shoulder. Leaning in, he whispered something into his ear and Michael saw the customary smile and nod as they took off for the backroom. He heaved a frustrated sigh and pushed his way up to the bar, ordering their drinks against his better judgment. Tonight he’d keep Brian happy. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow he’d be able to talk to him and figure out what the fuck was going on. Still waiting for the bartender a few minutes later, he noticed a tall, handsome man maybe a few years older than him leaning against the bar. “Hey.” Michael only halfway glanced in his direction before he said, “Sorry, not interested. I’m just here with a friend.” The guy nodded with a smile. “You’re Michael, right?” “Uhm, yeah?” “I saw you on the dance floor with Brian before he did his disappearing act. He told me you were coming into town.” Noticing Michael’s confusion, he held out his hand. “I’m Tommy.” “Oh shit! Right! Ted and Emmett have talked about you.” Michael noticed the reluctant reaction when he hesitated and then Tommy asked, “Brian hasn’t mentioned me?” He thought for a moment, trying to remember anything that Brian may have said. “You’re one of his accounts, right? At the agency?” “That’s how we met, but I’d say we’re more friends than business associates.” Michael snorted. “I bet that’s interesting.” “What is?” “Nothing,” he answered, shaking his head. “C’mon, what?” Michael took a drink and smiled. He wasn’t sure how far he should go, but then blurted out, “You’re his type. I just figured he would rather have fucked you.” Tommy couldn’t hold back the slight laugh. “What makes you think we haven’t?” “Because if you’re a friend, like you say, you wouldn’t be once he'd had you,” he answered bluntly. “Ahh.” Tommy grinned but held his tongue. He’d let Brian fill Michael in if he felt the need to. The best thing right now was to change the subject. “So, how long are you in town for?” “Two more days. And I’ve barely had a chance to catch up with Brian at all. Jesus, this job thing has him so fucked up.” Tommy shrugged. “I thought Ryder was hiring him.” “Ryder? Marty Ryder? He has an office in New York?” Why hadn’t Brian told him? “No,” Tommy answered, catching sight of Brian heading toward them. “Here, in Pittsburgh.” Michael’s eyes narrowed and it took a few seconds for the information to sink in. “Brian’s moving back to the Pitts?” “That was a waste of my fucking time. Did you get my drink?” Both men turned to see Brian’s disgusted expression. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were moving back to Pittsburgh?!” Brian looked at Michael and shrugged, grabbing the glass sitting in front of him. “Why’s it matter?” He downed it, not caring whether it was his or not. “You don’t live here anymore, remember?” “I don’t care! You should have told me!” Brian’s expression softened and he gripped Michael’s shoulders. “Calm the fuck down, Mikey. It’s not a big deal.” “Well obviously, since I’m the last to know,” he offered bitterly, cutting his eyes at Tommy. Brian sighed. “I suppose you boys have met.” He stopped and stared at Michael before adding, “and you’re getting along?” Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fine,” and went back to the previous subject. “So when were you gonna tell me?” Brian flinched, annoyed. “It’s not written in stone.” Tommy moved in a little closer to Brian. “Since when? I thought it was a done deal.” “Since two days ago when Ryder decided to sell the fucking company.” “Oh, shit.” “Fucker didn’t even have the balls to tell me in person. Sent a letter… We regret to inform you the position offered is no longer available… Pfft.” Michael chided in. “Can he do that?” Brian shrugged. “It’s his fucking company. He can do whatever the hell he wants.” “What about the new owner? Maybe he would hire you,” Tommy offered. “Gardner Vance. Self proclaimed advertising genius,” Brian mocked. “He plans to fire everyone and bring in his own team.” Michael scowled when Tommy’s hand gripped Brian’s shoulder tenderly. “Something’ll open up. Don’t worry about it.” Brian shook his head. “Whatever.” He looked around as if debating, and then asked Tommy, “You have your car?” “Yeah, why?” Brian gripped his arm and began to turn around. “We’re leaving, Michael. I’ll see you later.” “Brian!” He heard Michael’s voice and prepared for the inevitable. There was no way Michael would ever understand. Stopping, he turned back around. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.” “What?!” “You heard me.” “What the fuck? You’re just gonna leave?!” Brian didn’t miss the glare when he added, “With him?!” “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” he huffed. “And since when do you fuck your friends?!” “Don’t play the scorned lover. It doesn’t become you, Michael.” He turned and began walking out again with Tommy following behind. “You fly me all the way to Pittsburgh and then you can’t even keep your dick in your pants long enough to spend any time with me?!” Brian stopped abruptly and spun around. “If I wanted to get laid, I can do that here. I have somewhere to be and I didn’t want you coming because I don’t need you giving me any fucking shit about it!” Michael looked down at his watch, barely making out the numbers in the flickering club lighting. “Somewhere to be at 1:30 in the fucking morning?!” “See?” he said, proving his point. “Shit already.” “Alright, I won’t! I won’t say anything, just don’t shut me out, okay?” Brian sighed, looking at Tommy and then back at Michael in warning. “Not a fucking word.” “I promise.” Knowing he should have stood his ground, Brian cursed his softness when it came to Michael. Now, though he said he wouldn’t, he knew he’d have to put up with a whole montage of rants and lectures that Mikey would insist were for ‘his own good’. Christ, why couldn’t he have just said no? ~*~ They walked to Tommy’s car without a word until finally, Tommy asked where they were going. “Liaison.” “Now?” “What’s Liaison?” Michael asked, sliding into the backseat. Tommy started the engine, pulled out and then answered, “It’s a club on the other side of town. But they’ll be closed by the time we get there,” he said pointedly toward Brian. “They don’t need to be open. There’s just,” he hesitated and leaned his head against the window. “There’s someone I need to see.”