A few minutes later, both men had managed to shoot themselves into a dead tie.  Justin wiped some perspiration from his forehead and leaned over the pool table to line up his next shot - a purple-and-white striped ball in the far right corner pocket - only to stop short when he heard a distinctive ‘tsk, tsk, tsk' sound coming from behind him.  Huffing in exasperation, he straightened up and twisted his upper body around to stare over at his adversary, who was leaning casually against the nearby wall, his arms crossed over his chest with an arrogant smirk on his handsome face.  Where had he seen that look before? He mused dryly. Of course, there was no need to answer that, however.

"What?" he asked, a little peeved.

"You're holding your stick all wrong," Liam told him.  "I'd be glad to help you get it into proper position."

Justin replied dryly, "I know how to hold my stick just fine, thank you."

The other man had the annoying nerve to laugh at him then as he strolled over to lean against the pool table and face his opponent, just as Justin stood up straight to turn around and glare at him. The result was that they almost bumped heads as Liam reached out to steady him, grasping his upper arm to hold him securely.  His touch was like fire to Justin as he gasped slightly at the contact before recovering his composure.  "Do you mind?" he growled as he broke free from the other man's hold.  "You're affecting my concentration."

Liam chuckled in delight over his confession.  "Oh, I'm a distraction, am I?" He bestowed that aggravating smirk on Justin again as his eyes swept over the curve of his ass before coming to rest on the annoyed, blue eyes.  Smiling, he responded truthfully, "Well, that works both ways, mate.  Now are you going to take your shot...Or do I win by default?"

From his place at a small, round table nearby, Emmett and Ted peered over at the two men in amusement, Devon having left earlier to head back to his apartment.  Emmett covered his mouth to hide his smile as they overheard the two bantering back and forth with each other and trading barbs.  "Oh, my God," he deadpanned as they leaned back against the table, their newest drinks clutched in their hands.  "It's like the Brian and Justin show redux."  He eyed the stranger appreciatively as he chewed on his drink straw.  "I'd LOVE for that man to show me the proper way to position MY dick...uh...stick."

Ted grinned as he clamped a friendly hand on the taller man's shoulder.  "How very magnanimous of you," he told him.  "I bet you'd make a very accommodating ambassador to our fair city," he said with a laugh.  The smile on his face faded, however, as he glanced over at the front door and noticed the newest patron sauntering in.  "Oh, boy.  Look who just showed up - and at the worst possible time.  The big, bad wolf."

Emmett followed Ted's line of sight and spied the person he was referring to.  "Well, well, well...This is going to get very interesting. What do you think he'll do?" he asked his friend.

Ted shrugged as they observed Brian looking around the bar, apparently scanning the crowd for his whatever-he-called him. He shrugged.  "Oh, probably what he always does when someone hits on Justin:  act like he doesn't give a fuck and then find a not-so-subtle way to make sure everyone knows that he's off limits."  Both men had been present recently to witness the two men's heated reunion at Babylon, and it was obvious that both men were quite happy to be back together again.  Just how ‘together' were they, however, in Brian's eyes?  Both of them knew that Brian's idea of a ‘relationship' was much different than theirs.

Brian glanced around the crowded, St. Patrick's Day bar and peered in disdain at the sight of so many losers drinking green beer out of clear, plastic cups.  He hated that shit, and wondered just what sort of chemicals went into turning a normally tolerable beer into such a sickly shade of green.  It was even more packed than he had anticipated tonight, he discovered, as he used his taller stature to peer around the bustling room in an attempt to find Justin.  As he did, several men either greeted him by name, or brushed by him ‘accidentally' as he unsuccessfully looked for him and his cousin, but he chose to ignore them.

"Where the hell ARE you, Taylor?" he muttered.  He was confident that Justin was here somewhere; he had promised, and since they had gotten back together, he surmised his former, straying lover would do everything he could to make sure they stayed together.  He briefly regretted the other day when he had practically pushed Justin out the door so he could ‘entertain' his 11:00, however; that WAS a pretty shitty thing for even HIM to do. But there was a purpose and a much-needed lesson for Justin contained in his actions, and to Justin's credit his lover had understood clearly what that lesson had been:  that after what had happened with the fiddler, Justin would have to prove that he was willing to take him in whatever manner he desired.  For like he had told him numerous times before, they were fags, not two love-struck heteros, and he was entitled to ‘scratch his itch' wherever and whenever he wanted.  Besides, hadn't he told the trick that Justin was the guy ‘he fucked more than once?'  That should have told Justin something.

He continued to glance around the room expectantly for him, but no one matching his description appeared.  "Come on, Justin!" he growled in frustration, hating the mass of bodies pressing in on him.  Finally, a flash of bright blond hair caught his eye over by the pool tables, and as the owner of that hair turned slightly toward him, his eyes widened in disbelief and a prominent vein on the side of his neck bulged out in anger.  What the fuck?

"Uh, oh," Ted murmured as they watched Brian turning his head in their direction; he acknowledged them with a cursory nod before his gaze drifted over to the two men sparring at the pool table nearby, and his demeanor immediately changed.  "Bulls-eye."

Emmett nodded.  "I wonder if the 4th of July's about to come early," he murmured, noticing Justin was totally oblivious to the fact that a certain, territorial brunet had just showed up.

Even from their distance, both men could make out the unhappy look on Brian's face as he spied Justin, currently bent over one of the pool tables as Liam stood a few feet away behind him, a goofy-looking grin on his face as he seemingly ogled a certain part of Justin's anatomy.  Emmett and Ted noticed the jealous look on Brian's face quickly transforming into a more customary, ‘I-don't-give-a-fuck' look as he began to thread his way through the capacity crowd toward them.

"Should we tell him?" Emmett fretted as he spoke into Ted's ear in order to be heard.

Ted smirked.  "Nah...What would be the fun in that? Besides, Brian Kinney doesn't do jealous, right?"

Emmett half-smiled; both of them knew better than that.  Even if they didn't, one look at the expression on Brian's face a few moments ago, and it would have been patently obvious to anyone.  "No, of course not," he murmured knowingly as the two exchanged a look between them.

Same Time...

Justin felt rather than saw the look being bestowed upon him as he turned his head from his place at the pool table. Sure enough, his competitor was staring at him with that haughty-looking smile on his face again.  "What now?" he barked in aggravation.

Liam smiled, having enjoyed the ‘rear' view he had just been admiring.  This man was simply fucking adorable, as well as hot, and had the most amazing ass he had ever seen.  He thought fleetingly of what it might feel like to have his dick firmly embedded in such a wondrous piece of flesh before he cleared his throat to bring his thoughts back to the game at hand. There would be more than enough time later to engage in ‘another' sort of game, he decided...once he won their competition.  "Nothing," he replied with a grin.  "I'm about to win, that's all. And it makes me very happy just thinking about it."

"You're awfully damn sure of yourself, aren't you?" Justin huffed out.  "We're tied, remember?"

"Not for long," the other man told him confidently.  "Not if you plan on shooting that way."

"Oh, for God's sake!" Justin growled as he stood up and scowled at the other man.  "You're not Minnesota Fats, so just cut the crap, okay?  I don't know how they ‘shoot,' as you put it, in Ireland, but..."

Liam grinned broadly.  "Well, I'd love to show you how we shoot over there...If you'll just let me.  I'll wager it's not much different than how you shoot over here, though; we just do it with more flair."

Despite his irritation, Justin had to snort over that comment.  "That has to be one of the cheesiest come-on lines I've ever heard; and trust me, I've heard a lot by now."

"I'm sure you have," the other man told him softly as his eyes once more roved over the beautiful form, making Justin blush again.  He frowned, though, as Justin's words sunk in.  "Cheesiest?  I'm not sure what that means exactly...but I think I can probably guess."  He paused for a moment.  "Well, how about this one, then?  I'd love to dive into your pool and have a ball..."

Justin laughed. "No, that's even worse.  Just give it up, okay?  But don't give up your day job...whatever it is."  He studied the other man thoughtfully as Liam walked closer.  "Just what IS your day job, anyway?" he asked curiously.  "Full-time bullshitter?"

"If I could get paid to do that, that would be perfect," Liam agreed with a congenial nod of his head.

Justin couldn't help chuckling as he replied, "Well, for once we actually agree on something."

Liam smiled.  "Well, don't let it go to your head," he wisecracked as he smirked at him.

"You mean don't get cocky," Justin volunteered with a grin.

"Exactly.  Sure you don't want me to show you how it's done?"

"No, thanks," Justin responded confidently as he leaned over the pool table, his cue stuck clutched firmly in his fingers.  "Now watch how the pros do it."  Eyeing the ball, he stated, "12-ball in the right corner pocket," before he slid the stick back and prepared to hit the cue ball.  Just as he let loose with the stick, however, one of the drunker bar patrons decided to accentuate a closing round of "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" by letting forth with a blast from a portable air horn, startling him and causing Justin's aim to go astray.  He watched in dismay as the ball went far left of its target, and promptly landed in the other far pocket.  "Shit!" he cried out in disgust as he heard his opponent laughing.

"Oh, no misunderstanding about THAT," Liam told him.  "That's a foul in any language.  My turn," he reminded Justin as he walked up to stand beside him.  "Sorry about your luck," he murmured none too sympathetically.

"But...that wasn't MY fault!" Justin protested.  "How would I know some asshole would come here in with a damn air horn?  Come on..."

"Sorry," Liam told him with a grin.  "I don't make the rules.  Everyone knows that anytime the cue ball winds up in a pocket, it's a foul and you give up your turn.  I suppose you can always hope I have a rare moment of inaccuracy and don't manage to make my next shot...but I wouldn't hold my breath.  If you'll scoot over just a bit...?"

Justin's mouth hung open in protest.  "But..." he tried again.

Liam grinned.  "Now I know you wouldn't want to go against the rules. If that had happened to ME, would YOU have let me take that shot over again?"

Justin scowled at him.  "No, I wouldn't have," he told him truthfully as he shook his head in resignation.  "Okay, okay...be my guest," he finally decided as he moved a few feet to get out the way.  Somehow he knew what was going to happen before he actually saw it; he watched, holding his breath, as the other man leaned over the pool table and lined up his next shot - the last solid ball on the table before the eight ball needed to win.  Silently tempted to ‘accidentally' jostle the man just as he was about to shoot, he nonetheless remained still as he watched Liam declare where the ball was going to go, just before it landed precisely where it needed to be, squarely in the far right pocket.  Justin rolled his eyes as Liam grinned at him before targeting the winning eight ball.

"Eight ball in right side pocket," he stated before the sharp crack of the cue ball sounded against the last ball on the table, pushing it neatly into the desired hole.  Liam smiled broadly as he turned around to face the loser.  "Well, I don't know when I've enjoyed being on the winning end of a game more," he declared.  "But you were a very worthy opponent," he added sympathetically.

"Thanks; that makes me feel a whole lot better," Justin said curtly as he walked over and hung up his cue stick, watching as Liam did the same.

Liam laughed softly.  "Glad I could be of help.  Now about that dinner..."

"Uh...Justin...?"

Justin turned his head at the sound of Emmett's voice - just in time to see Brian walking up to the group.  "Shit," he murmured.  Could this situation get any worse?  "Hey, Brian," he managed to croak out to his lover with a nervous smile.  To the casual observer, Brian appeared nonchalant. To Justin, however, the brief, almost malevolent look that flitted across his handsome face spoke volumes, and it was quite obvious that he was not happy at the moment.

"Justin," Brian replied evenly as he peered over at the taller, dark-haired stranger staring back at him.  He frowned, thinking inexplicably that he had met this man before.  Probably in a backroom or a bathhouse somewhere, he decided. That was where the majority of his ‘acquaintances' came from. Before he could say anything further, however, the mystery of where he had met this man was quickly solved as he watched the man's eyes widen in surprise and a big smile of recognition break out on his face.

"Janey Mac!  Brian!  How ARE you, mate?"

Justin frowned; how did this man know Brian?  He could only guess under what context that would be.  After all, where did MOST men become ‘acquainted' with him?  He groaned inwardly.  Great; I just agreed to have dinner with one of Brian's tricks.  If it wasn't so distasteful to think about, it would almost be laughable, he decided.

Brian leaned in closer to take a better look at the other man.  So he DID know him. But from where?  He scoured his memory to try and recall which bathhouse, bar, or club he had encountered him in, but nothing came to mind. Was he one of his clients, then?  A waiter somewhere?  Hell, he had even picked up men at the grocery store!  He had to know him from somewhere, but he wasn't about to admit he couldn't figure out exactly where.  Soon, however, that issue was put to rest - just as quickly as the other man spoke again.

Liam looked at him incredulously.  "Don't you know who I am?  You look just the same!  Only...older."

Justin covered his mouth with his hand in amusement.  He still didn't know their tie to each other, but just the scowl on Brian's face at the word ‘old' was priceless.  His bet with this man was instantly forgotten now; replaced with an innate curiosity over their connection.  If this man knew him when he was younger, then he didn't sound like he was some trick.

"It's ME, mate!" Liam declared. When he continued to get a confused look, he realized the reason why.  He smiled, pleased that Brian didn't recognize him.  "Don't you know your own cousin?"

Brian's mouth fell open in astonishment as he realized then why the guy looked at least vaguely familiar. This wasn't the gawky boy he had hung out with at all; however, there was just enough in the voice and in the features to identify him as his cousin.  "Brady?" he finally managed to utter.

Justin's eyes threatened to bug out of his head. THIS was Brian's cousin? The snaggle-toothed, gangly, pockmarked boy that Brian had been heckling behind his back?  The one who Brian said would break every mirror in his loft?  The one whose hair was the color of ripe carrots?  Surely there had to be TWO cousins!  Wait a minute...

Justin finally found his own voice as he asked, "I thought you said your name was Liam."

"It is," Liam replied.  "My middle name.  Who the hell would want to be called Brady? I haven't been called that in years."

Brian frowned, finding himself for once at a loss for words.  "But...but you...you don't look anything like you used to."

"Thank GOD!" his cousin boomed out.  "Braces, hair dye...and a lot of acne medicine do wonders," Liam informed him.  "Oh...and weight training - and the miracles of late-blooming puberty," he added as he gave Justin a wink, missing the dark look that Brian briefly flashed him.  He turned back to Brian as he asked curiously, "So you two know each other?"  His eyes shortly widened in epiphany as he laughed.  "Shit!  I was the man you were waiting for while we were playing pool?" he asked Justin, who nodded.  "How ironic is that?"

"Yeah," Brian replied dryly, not at all happy that his awkward, ‘ugly duckling' cousin had somehow been transformed into the complete opposite.  "Hysterical."

"So...you and my cousin are friends, then.  Or...something more?" he asked, splitting his glance between the two men as Emmett and Ted watched silently nearby, wondering, just like Justin, how Brian would answer that particular question.  That was something they always wanted to know as well.  Just what WERE they?

"Uh..."  Brian felt several pairs of eyes boring into his; not only Brady's...uh, Liam's; and Emmett's and Ted's, and, of course, Justin's. But also all the other bar patrons hanging around nearby.  He cleared his throat as he stood up a little straighter, his height mere millimeters above his cousin's.  "No," he told him firmly as he looked Justin straight in the eye and shrugged casually.  "Just friends."  He smirked then for added effect, an action that he would learn to regret later as he added almost as an afterthought, "Friends with benefits, that is."

He saw Justin's face fall in disappointment for just a brief moment before, to his credit, he noticed his lover's dismay replaced with a veil of indifference; for some reason that he refused to analyze, that bothered him....a lot.

Liam turned to Justin, a silent question on his lips - a request for confirmation.

Justin nodded.  "Yeah...that's right," he answered quietly, his response barely heard above the revelry around them.  "Just...friends."

Liam smiled with delight in response as he told Justin, "Marvelous!  Then I can just drop my bag off at Brian's, and we can be off, then."

Brian frowned; he had expected his cousin to stay with him, but what was that other part about?  "What do you mean, be off?"

"Justin and I had a friendly game of pool, and I was the victor. To the victor go the spoils, as they say," he replied with a smile.

"Really?"  Brian replied, feigning indifference as he idly played with the chalk cube lying on top of the pool table.  "And just what would that be?"

"I get to have the pleasure of your friend's company at dinner," Liam explained as Brian's blood began to boil.  Liam thought he noticed a nervous sort of tic pulse in Brian's neck as he added hastily, "You're welcome to join us, cousin.  After all, we have a lot of catching up to do, don't we?"  Secretly, however, he wanted Justin to himself, but civility couldn't prevent him from extending the invitation nonetheless.

"No thanks," Brian replied to his relief.  "I have other plans," he told him as he stared meaningfully over at Justin.  "But you boys trot along and have fun," he wisecracked.  "I'll go find my own entertainment for the evening."

"Well, if you're sure..."  Liam responded politely.  Inside, however, he was doing somersaults of glee.  After all, his cousin wasn't exactly a dog in the looks department.

"Positive," Brian told his cousin as he continued to stare over at his lover.  Justin, however turned his head and refused to acknowledge his smug expression.

Liam nodded with a smile.  "Great!  Then let me get my bag from the bartender, and we can get going, then.  You have your car with you?"

Brian sighed inwardly; he supposed there was no way he could get around their living arrangement for the week.  But the whole thing was damned odd. "Yeah.  Get your bag; I'll meet you out front."  He turned to the man they seemed to unexpectedly have in common.  "Justin, a word with you?"

Emmett gifted his friend with a sympathetic look as Justin nodded.  "I'll be outside with Brian," he told Liam, who nodded.  "I'll see you later," he told his friends as he turned to go, not exactly looking forward to whatever Brian wanted to discuss.

"Take care, Baby," Emmett called after him as Justin gave him a small, backward wave in reaction.  "Good Luck!"  Justin bit his lip, thinking he was probably going to need it.