The incessant thump of the music made Justin shrink back, and he was a half-second away from changing his mind. He continued on, summoning supreme self-control as the lights swirled and a hundred bodies pressed against him at once. He constantly fought the urge to run, to lash out, to curl up in a little ball and cry. He tried to focus on the pleasure these things used to bring him. The undulating flesh, moving together to the pulsating beat, each one of them high on drugs or alcohol or sex. It used to make him hard just to be standing in the middle of it all. Even without Brian.

Now, it was terrifying. Despite that, having made up his mind, he made his way to the bar. Almost immediately, he spotted Ted, Em, and Michael. No Brian. No surprise. He was about to bail when he heard someone call his name. They’d seen him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Michael was yelling as he was ushered into their circle. He would’ve shot back something smart-assed, but he didn’t particularly feel like butting heads just then.

“He’s enjoying a perfectly respectable night out, just like the rest of us? Aren’t you, sweetness?” Emmet said in his defense, throwing an arm over his shoulder. Justin flinched almost imperceptibly, and Emmet took his arm back.

“You okay?” Ted asked.

“Yeah,” he said, unconvincingly. “I’m great. Just missed the place, that’s all.”

“Brian’ll be pissed when he sees you here,” Michael said, but much of the venom was gone from his voice.

“He around?” Justin asked, knowing exactly where he was and what he was doing.

“Him and some young Italian thing fucked off about half an hour ago,” Emmet contributed helpfully. “He should be done any minute now.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Justin said, asking himself why this had seemed like such a good idea. No longer distracted by the conversation, the noise and the people were getting to him again. He started to feel dizzy. Michael put his hand on Justin’s shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, but Michael didn’t budge.

“Justin,” he said gently, “let me take you back to Brian’s.” Seeing the courageous-but-faltering determination in Justin’s eyes, he added, “Because you look so tired.” He gave a tiny shrug to Ted and Emmet, who were silently mocking his lame attempt at diplomacy.

“Yeah, alright,” Justin said finally, visibly relieved.

“I just need to talk to the guys for a minute. Can you find my car okay?”

Justin shrugged helplessly.

“Okay, just wait here.” He turned to the boys. “I’m going to take him out of here. If anyone asks, I’m in the bathroom or something. Just don’t tell Brian . . .”

“Tell me what, Mikey?” Brian asked, having appeared unnoticed from the back room. Michael didn’t have to answer, because he spotted Justin a second later. His eyes flashed. “What the fuck is he doing here?!”

“Funny, that’s just what Michael sai . . .” Emmet started, then trailed off as Brian stormed toward Justin. Michael followed. The boys just stood there and gaped.

Justin braced himself, waiting for Brian to explode. He didn’t wait long. “Are you insane or just fucking stupid, Justin?” he shouted. “What would possess you to come here? Can’t I have one fucking night to myself?” Justin said nothing, staring back at Brian with anger and hurt. Michael stepped in.

“He’s just on his way out, Brian. That’s enough.” He took Justin by the elbow and walked him out, glaring back at Brian with a look that matched Brian’s own rage.

Brian turned away, a little taken aback. “Well,” he yelled to the boys, a little louder than was necessary to be heard over the music, “what are you gawking at? We all need another drink.”

“Why did you do that?” Michael asked the fuming Justin, still a little shocked at how quickly his normal evening turned soap opera.

“I wanted to go, that’s all.”

“Brian doesn’t take too kindly to being followed around,” Michael remarked.

“Why does it have to be about Brian?” Justin said, still angry but losing his adrenalin rush. “I just wanted to go. Last I checked I was allowed to leave the house.”

When is it ever not about Brian? Michael thought, but simply concluded the conversation with, “Whatever.” Then, more softly, “I can take you to my mother’s if you want.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just wait for the shit to hit the fan at home. Thanks, though.”

Home? Better not let Brian hear you sat that.

“If you say so.” He dropped Justin off at the apartment and headed back toward Babylon. Then he changed his mind and turned for home instead. He didn’t much feel like seeing Brian himself right now.

A little over an hour later, Justin heard the loft door slam and jumped up out of his doze. He looked up from the couch, relieved to see that Brian was, at least, alone. He was probably trashed and pissed off, but after his scene at the club, Justin thought he’d take what he could get. “Hello,” he said feebly.

Brian ignored him and kicked his shoes off. He stalked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, slamming it closed. Then he went to the bathroom and shut the door, all without a word or a glance. In a minute, Justin heard the shower running and sat back. Yup, he’s pissed.

Twenty minutes later, wearing a towel, Brian emerged from the bathroom. “You wanna pass me my cigarettes?” He said to Justin without looking at him, “They’re in my jacket pocket.”

Justin got up and did as he was told, then turned to go into the bedroom. Brian grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “Go sit down.” He ordered. He lit up a smoke and sat down. Justin followed.

“This is getting to be a problem, Justin,” Brian said, taking a long haul on his cigarette.

“What, that I wanted to go out? I didn’t realize I was under house arrest.”

“Don’t give me any of that teenage rebellious bullshit. You followed me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Justin huffed. “I just wanted to see if I could do it.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “And you couldn’t. I could’ve told you that.”

Justin said nothing, scowling.

“If this is going to work, you’re going to have to stop this. I’m not prepared to babysit you every time I go out.”

“So I should just stay here and wait while you go out tricking?”

“You didn’t have to stay here. You could’ve gone to Daphne’s, or anywhere else. I don’t really care. But I’m going to go out without you tagging along.”

“Fine,” Justin said as he got up to go to the bedroom. “Next time I want to do anything I’ll consult you first.”

Brian closed his eyes and rubbed his face. He did not have the time or the patience to keep up with Justin’s behavior. Sometimes his childishness was enchanting. Most of the time, it was a great big pain in the ass. He got up to drink another bottle of water, ignoring the headache that was threatening behind his eyes. I’m getting too old for this.

He finished the water and went to his room, where Justin was lying in bed staring up at the ceiling. Brian removed his towel and got in next to him, keeping his back turned the entire time. He grunted something that resembled “Good night,” and closed his eyes.

“You never used to care before when I came to Babylon.”

Brian sighed loudly. “Go to sleep, Justin.”

“All right. But it’s true.” He rolled over.

A few seconds later, Brian rolled towards him. “You’re right.”

Justin turned back. “Excuse me?” he smirked.

“Don’t get all cocky. I just meant that I didn’t care. And I still don’t. You know perfectly well that I’ll do what I want regardless of whether or not you’re there to watch.”

“So what’s different?”

“What’s different is that now you can’t take care of yourself, and someone has to do it.”

“You don’t.” Justin said.

“Yes, Sunshine, I do.” Brian said, rolling over once more.

“Why?” Justin pushed, but Brian didn’t answer. The subject was closed.

Justin stared at the ceiling a while longer. Maybe he did do it to provoke Brian. He wasn’t quite sure. But if that was true . . .

. . . he thought he got the answer he was looking for.

end