TOWJWAGABI, Part 7
I have no control over this story. I swear, it was supposed to be, like, four parts, a little drama, a little angst, a hug or two, The End.
I promise you that was my intention...
The One Where Justin's With Another Guy, and Brian Interferes, Part 7
Justin usually worked Tuesday mornings before his classes started, so he was already up and out by the time Dan poured himself a cup of coffee the next morning.
Justin had agreed, at least temporarily, to shelve talk of moving out. Dan had tried to get him to explain what he'd meant when he'd said he'd fucked things up, but he hadn't really been able to articulate anything.
Dan was sure Brian Kinney was somehow behind it all.
God, he just didn't get it. Dan couldn't understand how Brian could treat Justin so callously. How could he just carelessly throw out one hurtful comment after another and refuse to see how Justin was reacting? Even before the heightened vulnerability left in the wake of his mother's death, Justin was such a sweetheart, Dan couldn't imagine willfully hurting him.
Dan pictured Brian as one of those kids who cackled maniacally as he yanked the legs off a spider. What possible joy did he derive from upsetting a wounded kid like Justin? It just didn't make sense.
And why in the hell did Justin just lay there and take it? It wasn't like him.
Half comatose from worry and grief, Justin had refused to be diminished by his father's poisonous attitude. Those long days at the hospital, then later the funeral and the wake, Justin had maintained such a proud and ... intractable air about him. Maybe he collapsed in misery once they were alone, but to his sister and everyone else, he was the picture of grace and strength. And no matter how unkind or cutting his father was, Justin defiantly lifted that chin of his and stared his father down with cold, hard eyes; letting that asshole know he wouldn't be broken. Dan had been in awe of Justin.
But Brian Kinney need only lift an inquisitive eyebrow at the kid, and Justin crumbled in defeat. It just made no sense at all.
There wasn't time for Dan to dwell on the subject. Early morning rounds, a routine by-pass and one post-operative infection ensured his mind was only on the task at hand. It was late afternoon when he grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria and headed up to his office to check his messages and e-mail.
He flipped to his e-mail first and scanned his inbox, stopping short when he came to an entry that read:
From: John Kundroh @ mgh.harvard.edu
Re: Teaching Position Approved
Dan stared at the e-mail without opening it for a good five minutes. John was the Chief of Cardiac Surgery at Massachusetts General, long considered one of the top five heart hospitals in the country, not to mention the largest teaching hospital affiliated with the Harvard Medical School.
They'd talked several times over the last few years about a new position John was trying to create there. The position he'd described would be the opportunity of a lifetime for the lucky surgeon picked for the job-the chance to build from the ground-up the most aggressive, state-of-the-art surgical education program in the country, and one that would be emulated by scores of other schools and hospitals for decades to come.
Hands suddenly sweaty, Dan clicked twice to open the e-mail. It read simply Green light finally. Call me between two and four this afternoon.
Dan checked the clock-it was 2:34. He wasted no time dialing John's office.
"Daniel Forrester! I haven't even gotten the return receipt saying you read my e-mail!"
Dan laughed along with his colleague. "You know me, John. Cool and collected all the way."
They exchanged pleasantries, then John got down to business. "I've got two pieces of news for you. We just finished setting the speakers for the Nassau convention and you're on for Thursday morning. Call Cindy sometime next week and she'll arrange your travel."
Dan gave an inward whoop. "Fantastic," he said. "Not that Pittsburgh isn't charming this time of year, of course."
"Of course," John agreed. "Okay, here's the news you really want to hear. I got the okay to hire a chief of cardiac surgery education. We want to have the positional installed by June at the latest so we'll have the summer to prepare."
"And..." Dan led him further, and they both laughed.
"And... I'd like to invite you to apply."
Dan bowed his head and pumped his fist in victory. "Excellent," he said. "This is great news. God, John, just great."
"It's a short list, Dan. You, Carlos Arroyo, Lyle Burton, and Jan Barnes. That's it."
"Impressive," Dan said.
"It is," John agreed. "This is a board decision, I'm only one voice even if it is my baby, so I don't want to make any promises or encourage any kind of false hopes, but I personally submitted your name. We've talked about it enough, you know where my head is, and I'm pretty sure I know where yours is. This is an amazing opportunity, but more than that it's right up your alley. Tailor-made for you. "
"Feels that way to me, too," Dan said with a laugh. "Carlos, Lyle and Jan probably think the same."
"Yeah, they probably do. Listen, we'll get into it in Nassau. You coming alone again or have you managed to rope some unsuspecting victim into tagging along?"
"Hadn't really thought about it," Dan answered vaguely, his mind already churning at a thousand miles an hour as he mulled the potential of what John was offering.
"Well Olga's found another one she thinks is perfect for you."
Dan groaned theatrically. "Isn't it enough that she has you to torture? Why bring little innocent me into things?"
"Personally, I appreciate her spreading the wealth," John said.
"I've begged her not to help me."
"I told you begging doesn't work. Caving in and doing her bidding is your only hope."
"Tell her thanks but..."
"Now Olga thinks you'll really hit it off with this one. He's...uh....well, frankly he's an idiot from what I've seen-he's the contractor in charge of the new addition we're putting on, and it's only dumb luck that he hasn't burnt the place down yet--but Olga says he looks like a young Harrison Ford so you probably won't mind that he's an idiot."
Dan chuckled and shook his head. "Tell Olga I wouldn't have recommended her for the board of the GMHC if I'd known she was just there to pimp for me."
"Duly noted. Consider it a fair warning of future harassment, though. We'll see you in Nassau in a few weeks then. Take care."
"You too, John. Bye."
Dan hung up the phone. His heart thundering. Jesus Christ. This was what if felt like to have the whole damn world offered up to you on a silver platter. The idea had seemed like such a pipe dream, even the last time he and John had discussed it. To have it laid out there for him. Jesus.
Skittering at the corner of Dan's mind was the thought that his life was slightly more complicated now than it had been that last time they'd talked, but...
Shit. Yeah. But.
Dan snorted derisively at the vagaries of fate. Last night he'd been troubled by the idea of Justin moving out, and now...
Now.
Shit.
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Brian found that if he acted like the Knight Street coffee shop was simply a convenient place for him to drive 20 minutes first thing in the morning to purchase a $5.00 cup of coffee, then Justin would too. Justin didn't seem to be one for closely examining motives these days, so he took running into Brian every single day all week long as par for the course.
Brian kept the conversation light, refraining from discussions of Justin's education or career choices. He even managed to reign in most of his opinions regarding the illustrious Dr. Forrester and was rewarded with a Justin who grew chattier by the minute.
Still, a man could only change so much in so little time, and when Justin mentioned that he and Dan were going to Babylon that night, Brian let go with a surprised bark of laughter.
"What's so funny?" Justin asked.
Brian absolutely refused to believe that Justin didn't know what was so fucking funny, and he gave him a look that said Don't be so fucking obtuse.
Justin wordlessly answered with a defiant look that said, I'll be fucking obtuse if I want to, which only further amused Brian.
"Don't let him show up in bermudas, wearing Jesus sandals with socks," he advised.
"It's February," was all Justin said.
The past few days, Brian had merely stood over Justin for a brief chat before continuing on his way, but now he pulled out a chair and sat himself down. "Now what brought this on?" he asked. "Bravely venturing out into the thriving Pittsburgh night life? Inquiring minds, Sunshine."
Justin made a sour face at Brian's amusement and said, "You know, Dan may be reserved, but he's not as rigid as you think he is."
"On the contrary," Brian said, feigning offense at Justin's observation. "I always think of him as being extremely flaccid." He smiled sweetly and stood up to go, but not before pressing an affectionate kiss to Justin's forehead. He snickered when Justin shoved him aside. "See you tonight," Brian promised.
Once at the office, Brian sat back in his desk chair and stared out the window, mulling over what he'd learned so far about the present incarnation of Justin Taylor. In a nutshell, he was playing possum-trying to fend off another blow by being as invisible-as lifeless-as possible.
You could hardly fault him, except, of course, that Brian did. God damn it, fight harder, he thought, ignoring the Michael-voice in his head that said, Why should he have to?
Because was the only answer Brian could think of.
The night they'd met, Brian had asked Justin where he was headed, and Justin had said, "No place special." Brian had promised to change all that.
Brian leaned forward in his chair as a thought struck him. That's exactly what Justin was now rejecting.
Justin was embracing "no place special." Embracing it? He was fucking tongue kissing it for all he was worth.
Brian snorted derisively at the introspection. "Too fucking bad, Sunshine," Brian said softly. You're not fucking rotting away no place special. No more playing possum.
Brian remembered that once he and a kid from school had found a dead possum in the woods behind the kid's house. Well, they'd thought it was dead. Brian talked the kid into poking the carcass with a stick, and it had nearly taken the kid's arms off.
Hmm.
That was a really shitty analogy. Fuck it, he'd work on the analogy part later. Right now he had plans to make and a phone call to place, then he had to fucking get back to work. No way in hell he'd be working late tonight, not when there was a show to see at Babylon.
Brian made sure he was parked at the Babylon bar by 9:00 sharp, drawing some surprised stares from the regulars who knew a Brian Kinney appearance before eleven was a rare sight indeed.
Emmett and Ted had gamely agreed to come along, though that meant Brian had to endure Emmett's constant razzing about Dan and Justin: The Greatest Love Story Ever Told. Brian knew Emmett was baiting him, Emmett fucking knew Brian knew he was baiting him, but there was no way in hell Brian would give that God damned Honeycutt the fucking pleasure of telling him to knock it the fuck off, so he suffered in silence. Not exactly silence, per se. He had some choice comments about Emmett's ensem and the last few guys Em had fucked, but other than that he suffered silently.
He started snickering when Dan and Justin made their entrance at 9:10. Christ, the guy probably turned into a pumpkin at midnight.
Justin looked hot in cargo pants and a tight t-shirt, and even Danny Boy looked passable in black pants and solid black button-down. How very 2001, Brian thought.
It wasn't that Brian wouldn't fuck Dan (once). He wasn't fugly by any means, just... uninspiring. No wonder Justin wasn't drawing anymore. Dan as a fucking muse? Hardly.
Justin noticed them over by the bar and expertly led Dan through the less than thriving crowd. Small or not, the crowd still gave off a vibe that said, "Here comes the prodigal son." Even Dan picked up on it, and he warily turned his head left and right, eyeing the men who were eyeing his lover with recognition and something else. Expectation maybe? Dan probably wouldn't recognize it, but Brian sure did.
Emmett and Ted traded knowing looks before Emmett gave Brian a look that said, Behave. Brian had no idea what he could possibly be alluding too, so he ignored him in favor of a warm smile of welcome at Justin and Dan.
Dan greeted Ted first. "Hey, Bob!" he said, so enthusiastically he startled the man. Brian chortled into his drink, prompting Dan to turn to Justin in confusion.
"Ted," Justin corrected.
"They have beds here now?" Dan yelled over the music. "Don't you want to have a drink first?"
Only breeding and self-control kept Brian from doing a spit-take into the back of Ted's head while Justin snickered into Dan's neck. "No, his name is Ted."
"Oh! Shit. Sorry, Ted." Dan slapped him on the shoulder while Ted shrugged.
"What'll you have?" Brian asked.
"You buyin'?" Justin asked with a grin.
"Round One anyway," Brian said.
"Two Chivas Regal," Justin said, waggling his brows at Dan.
The drinks were served, Justin and Dan toasted Brian in thanks, then clanked their classes together and tossed the shots back.
Dan was looking around like a Midwestern farmer in the middle of Manhattan. Brian found himself doubting the man had ever seen a porn video in his life. His eyebrows shot through the roof at the go-go boys, dressed like Roman warriors for the evening. Brian wondered if Justin had told his lover about his own brief stint as a dancer. Probably another reason the great doctor saw himself as savior to the poor little waif.
Justin was trying to coax Dan into dancing, but the man demurred, saying he needed a stronger alcoholic base before giving it a go.
Tired of watching Justin fawn over his timid lover, Brian sidled up to Justin and said, "Guess who my newest client is?"
Justin made a show of thinking it over. "Pat Robertson?" he said.
Brian smirked at him. "Try again."
"Trojan?"
Brian laughed and bumped Justin with his shoulder. "You're a fucker, you know that?"
"So who is it?"
"Ari Simakis."
The name instantly registered with Justin, who gave a brief nod and starting looking around, as if searching for someone in the crowd. "Mutual friend?" Dan asked.
Justin snorted and shook his head. "Never met him," he said.
"He's an art dealer," Brian said, acting only mildly surprised at Dan's ignorance. "Owns a couple of galleries here and in Philadelphia. He likes to discover new artists and ride up with them."
Given Justin's feigned indifference and Brian's triumphant attitude, Dan knew there was more to the story, so he waited it out. When Justin refrained from asking for further details, Brian offered them anyway. "I showed him some of your stuff, and he said if you can produce five more pieces by June, he'll add you to the Young Artist's to Watch..."
Justin abruptly turned away from Brian and craned his neck, now looking for the bartender. "No thanks," he said. "I've got too much going on."
"Too much going on?" Brian echoed in disbelief. "What, Old Navy having a sale?"
Justin shrugged, growing frustrated at the disappearance of the servers, but Brian roughly turned him back around to face him. "Tell me," he ordered, giving Justin a shake. "Tell me what the fuck you think is more important than a show backed by Ari Fucking Simakis!"
Justin shoved Brian off him. "I already have a job! And a full fucking course load! And I don't want to be in a show backed by Ari Fucking Simakis, and that's all the fucking reason you get!"
"No," Brian said, refusing Justin's reason and his attitude. He closed his eyes for a second and sighed deeply. His hands were back on Justin's shoulders, a thumb absently caressing Justin's neck. "I am sorry your mom died," he said, and Justin's face grew almost comically confused. "I swear to God, if there was anything that could change it, I would do it or buy it or God damn fucking will it to happen, all right?" Justin's eyes filled with tears, and he tried to look away, but Brian wouldn't have it. He followed Justin's eyes, forcing him to keep looking at him. "And I am sorry that I fucked up. Do you hear that? Do you fucking hear what I'm saying?" He pulled Justin close to him and spoke right into his ear. "I'm sorry," he said again, and it felt to him like the words were more intimate, yelled over the thumping beat at Babylon, than any whisper could ever be. "But it's time to fucking wake up now. It's time to come back."
Justin gently disengaged himself, slowly shaking his head at Brian's words. "I'm where I want to be," he said.
"Right," Brian said. "You're where you want to be, being the best homosexual you can be. Is that right, Sunshine?"
The words struck a nerve, but Justin refused to be pulled into it.
"Where are you exactly?" Brian continued, moving in on Justin, his posture just shy of belligerent. "Who are you exactly. You tell me where the God damned fuck you are and see if I believe it's where you want to be!"
Emmett took mercy on Justin-or Dan or Brian; it was a tough call to tell which one of them-and pulled Justin out on the dance floor with him just as Dan turned to Brian and fumed, "God damn it, stop!"
"What?" Brian asked innocently.
"Riding him, picking at him, trying to make him feel like a failure because he's not living up to some idea of what you want him to be."
"Christ, how fuckin' rich is that? You think he's not who I want him to be?"
Dan disgustedly shook his head at Brian. "Leave him alone. He doesn't want to be in your fucking friend's little show, is that so hard for you to understand? "
"You wanna know what I don't understand? How you fucking stroll around like you don't have a fucking care in the world, meanwhile, Justin's so totally fucked up, he's going to throw away the fucking opportunity of a lifetime!"
"I'm sensing a pattern here," Dan said. "You, being the selfless humanitarian that you are, keep offering Justin these amazing opportunities of a lifetime, and he keeps turning them down. You know what? If I were you, I'd just quit offering them."
Now Brian shook his head at Dan, unable to fathom how some fucking first-rate surgeon could be such a useless idiot. "He is nowhere and nothing right now. And if you had any idea who he used to be you'd know how fucked up he has to be to accept the fucking shell he is."
Dan's eyes narrowed. "Who he used to be is the guy you dumped, Brian. If he doesn't want to be that guy anymore, it's hardly my fault."
Brian paused for just a minute, absorbing the blow. "Yeah well, one thing about me, Dan, I always fucking clean up my messes."
"He's not a mess!" Dan barked, then had a new idea and chuckled suddenly, giving Brian a knowing once-over. "And you can't stand it, can you? He's fucking fine, and that's what's driving you crazy."
Justin came bounding up to the bar then, sweating and grinning from ear-to-ear. He jumped up and down and pulled on Dan's arm. "Come dance with me!" he said.
Dan laughed and set his glass down. "I would, but then you won't love me anymore." He stared defiantly at Brian as he waited for Justin to say his line.
"Come on!" Justin urged. "You know I'll always love you, no matter what atrocities you commit on the dance floor!"
Dan made a pretense of judging Justin's sincerity, which Justin helped along by plastering an hideously angelic look on his face. They ended up laughing at each other. Dan kissed him and they headed out to the dance floor.
Brian almost laughed out loud. You think that's gonna put me off? We'll see who's standing at the end of it, Asshole.
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Having said nothing about his potential job change to Justin, Dan was itching to discuss it with Charlie, and they'd made plans to meet for breakfast Friday morning. Those plans had sounded better when he wasn't half-dead.
Half? More like three-quarters.
Justin had popped out of bed at seven. He had a meeting at work for a project then was going to work with some friends on a breakfast cereal account or something like that. Dan was concentrating on not dying so the details were a little jumbled.
Justin had offered to make his grandmother's patented hangover remedy, but then he'd started blithely naming off the ingredients until Dan offered him cash to stop it. Justin had checked Dan's wallet and called him a fuckin' tease.
Dan rolled over and squinted at Justin through one barely-opened eyed. "I followed through last night," he reminded Justin.
Justin had grinned at him, all boyish delight, and said, "Plus I won another free night of drinking from Brian when you didn't pull a bottle of anti-bacterial soap after we were done."
"You really get off on messing around back there?" Dan had asked.
Justin nodded. "I really do," he said. Fully clothed, Justin gently straddled Dan who was lying naked under the covers. "Don't even try to tell me you didn't like having me on my knees, sucking your cock in front of all those jealous queers," he said, rubbing his ass against Dan's hardening dick.
"That could have been the novelty of the public display," Dan tried, but Justin just laughed at him.
"Nope, that was all me. Worshipping at the alter of the Holy Daniel Forrester. And you loved it."
Daniel had smiled and brought Justin down for a kiss. He'd felt a momentary twinge of guilt at keeping the job prospect quiet, and it was that guilt more than anything that kept him from calling Charlie and canceling.
Of course, when he mooched into the diner, all Charlie wanted to talk about was whatever it was that had left Dan in his present condition.
"A dance club?" Charlie hooted when Dan gave him the basics. "And Justin didn't clue me in? I should have been there, God damn it!" Charlie imitated Dan's dancing, white-man's overbite and all.
"Shut up," Dan muttered darkly, while Charlie giggled. "I mean it. I have access to drugs that leave no trace, and I'm not afraid to use them."
"You at a dance club! Jesus, I would have paid thousands to see that. J has seriously let me down here. Would a phone call have killed him?"
"What can I say? He's got my back." Dan chugged the orange juice in front of him and motioned to the waitress for a refill, then he knocked back his coffee as well, coughing around the burn.
Charlie watched him in amusement. "I could've warned him about your two drink maximum. You can't hold your fucking liquor for shit, and you never could."
Dan glared at his brother. "I can hold my liquor just fine. Justin's asshole ex-boyfriend was trying to give me alcohol poisoning. He's such an idiot. Like being able to down half a bottle of scotch is a sign of virility or something?"
Charlie shrugged and seemed on the verge of suggesting the guy might be right, but Dan's glare held him back. "Jesus, this gets better and better. A night club, binge drinking, a pissing contest with an ex-boyfriend thrown into the mix. I don't think I've ever been prouder of you, Danny."
"His ex may have drunk me under the table, but he was as lame a dancer as I was, so I've got that going for me," Dan said.
That stumped Charlie for a few seconds. "I can't picture a world where another human being dances as horribly as you do."
"Yeah, well, the magnitude of his suck matched mine, believe me."
"Weird that Justin would hook up with both of you. What are the odds?"
Dan snickered. "You said it. Shit, you should have seen Justin on the dance floor. Every eye in the place was on his ass. You've gotta admit, his ass is amazing anyway, but when he shakes it to a beat..."
Charlie held up a hand to stop him. "Leave the dishy details for lunch with the girlfriends, won't you?"
Dan just shrugged at him and chugged his glass of water.
"So what in the hell possessed you to head out to a night club anyway? Trying to stay young for your boy toy?"
"No, it's not like that," Dan said. "We go out all the time..."
"Go out," Charlie scoffed. "Sitting around at some boring as fuck dinner party is hardly going out. And as fun as a dinner at Chez Forrester can be, that doesn't really qualify either."
"It's not like he's always trying to get me out to some club, you know. I thought he was over that scene."
"Probably felt frivolous after his mom died," Charlie guessed.
Dan nodded. "Probably. I thought he was starting to come back around, but something about reconnecting with the crowd he used to hang out with, and he's back in a funk again."
Charlie nodded, waiting until their breakfast plates had been set down before he said, "Well, maybe your "business" trip to the Bahamas will cheer him up, right?"
Dan said nothing, but his eyes unconsciously slid away from Charlie's for a beat, and that was enough. "What?" Charlie asked.
Dan shrugged and shook his head. "Just... probably not his thing is all."
Charlie snorted at that. "Right. Who in the hell wants beaches, blue skies and 85 degree temperatures after a beautiful Pittsburgh winter?" Charlie gave him the thumbs-up. "Good call, Bro."
Dan rolled his eyes. "It might not even coincide with his spring break, and even if it does, he's got work and...now that he's back with...well I don't know what the hell you call 'em, but he might not be able to get away."
Charlie shook his head with an incredulous laugh. "Even ole Kevvy managed to get away every year, and he would've fuckin' taken a shift at McDonalds if it meant two quarters to rub together. Believe me, Justin could find a way to fit an all expenses paid trek to the islands into his busy schedule."
"Kevin was not money grubbing. Why do you always..."
"Yes he was! He tried to charge me retail to program the registers at my first restaurant! What kind of fuckin' family loyalty is that?"
"We weren't even living together then!" Dan said indignantly. "And he had to ask a programmer from his office to help, you can't expect...God, forget it. I am not having this discussion with you again."
"All I'm sayin' is if Kevin made it his thing then Justin could too."
Dan was shaking his head again, studying the hash browns on his plate with far more interest than they deserved. "What would everyone think? I can just see August Burkholder's face. I didn't know you had a son, Daniel! And John and Olga Kundroh, staunch advocates that they are, wouldn't be quite so You're Here! You're Queer! if I traipse in with Justin on my arm. I'll probably be politely disinvited from interviewing at Mass Gen."
Charlie got quiet for a beat. "That teaching thing?" he asked.
Dan nodded. "It's a go. I'm on the short list with the John's backing. He's the chief of cardiac surgery." Dan shrugged his You do the math.
"I thought you were a lock for chief of cardiac surgery at Grant."
Dan sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Ed Moss is 52 years old. It's a good 13 years before the position opens up, and then I'll get a whopping 10 years or so myself? I don't want to tread water for that long." He leaned forward, hangover forgotten. "It's fucking Harvard, Charlie. The Holy Grail."
"And if Justin goes with you on vacation you won't fuckin' get the job?" Charlie obviously didn't believe it.
Dan wasn't even sure he believed it, but he tried to sound it out. "He's years younger than the residents in the program. The first three months I've got them, it's all about convincing them that they are brainless, unskilled twits until I train them to be otherwise. So then, what, I invite them over for a barbecue with Justin as the co-host?"
"What does one have to do with the other?" Charlie seemed more curious than devil's advocate.
"I'd lose all credibility. The ethics code forbids fucking around with a resident, but, hey, give me an undergrad, and I'm all over him!"
Finishing his eggs, Charlie washed them down with his last swig of coffee. "You're the worst combination of paranoia and ego I've ever seen. No one thinks about you nearly as much as you think they do."
"Most of them are barely tolerant of the gay thing, and then I show up with a kid who looks like he should be in a TV commercial for Tonka Trucks?" Dan said, incredulous himself at Charlie's easy dismissal of his concerns. "It feeds into every nasty stereotype they pretend not to have, and the bottom line is it just won't fly."
"Who's they?"
"God, Charlie, for once would you leave the left wing liberal semantics alone? You know what I mean."
Charlie obviously didn't think much of Dan's reasoning. He rolled his eyes as he stuffed the rest of his muffin in his mouth. "So, wait for him to graduate. He's got, what, another couple of semesters?"
"Right. Ask the board if they can hold the position for me while my lover finishes college? That oughta go over well."
Charlie shrugged and shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. "I thought things were good with you two."
"They are good," Dan said. "But we're sure as hell not there yet-not throwing in for the long-haul together kind of there. We haven't made plans like that. We haven't talked about anything like that."
Charlie laughed. "Jesus, you have no idea what you miss not fucking around with women. You two are livin' together for months, and you've never talked about The Future? You can't get two feet from a woman's bedroom without making up all this shit up about what's going to happen later. You got an amazing gig there."
Dan studied his brother over the rim of his coffee cup. "You know what's amazing is that every time you get divorced you sit here and shake your head and say you have no idea what happened."
Charlie offered another eye roll. "So do the long distance thing for awhile. He can join you when you're there."
Dan shrugged at that idea. He stared at the wall over Charlie's shoulder, thinking aloud. "I wouldn't hate 600 miles between Justin and Brian Kinney, that's for sure," he said darkly.
Charlie snorted. "We less Zen about the ex sniffin' around than we pretend?"
"Not the way you think," Dan said. "Justin is so blind when it comes to that guy. He makes Justin think he's weak and stupid and worthless and then he circles back around and says, 'Justin, you're so strong and smart!' and Justin buys it-he's all demoralized because the asshole is ragging on him, then he beams when the guy takes it back. It's infuriating."
"Well, sucks to be you all the way around these days, doesn't it?"
"If I do end up in Boston, I'm really going to miss these brotherly chats," Dan said dryly.
Charlie's smile was all sugary sweetness. "Uh huh. Me too."
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I promise you that was my intention...
The One Where Justin's With Another Guy, and Brian Interferes, Part 7
Justin usually worked Tuesday mornings before his classes started, so he was already up and out by the time Dan poured himself a cup of coffee the next morning.
Justin had agreed, at least temporarily, to shelve talk of moving out. Dan had tried to get him to explain what he'd meant when he'd said he'd fucked things up, but he hadn't really been able to articulate anything.
Dan was sure Brian Kinney was somehow behind it all.
God, he just didn't get it. Dan couldn't understand how Brian could treat Justin so callously. How could he just carelessly throw out one hurtful comment after another and refuse to see how Justin was reacting? Even before the heightened vulnerability left in the wake of his mother's death, Justin was such a sweetheart, Dan couldn't imagine willfully hurting him.
Dan pictured Brian as one of those kids who cackled maniacally as he yanked the legs off a spider. What possible joy did he derive from upsetting a wounded kid like Justin? It just didn't make sense.
And why in the hell did Justin just lay there and take it? It wasn't like him.
Half comatose from worry and grief, Justin had refused to be diminished by his father's poisonous attitude. Those long days at the hospital, then later the funeral and the wake, Justin had maintained such a proud and ... intractable air about him. Maybe he collapsed in misery once they were alone, but to his sister and everyone else, he was the picture of grace and strength. And no matter how unkind or cutting his father was, Justin defiantly lifted that chin of his and stared his father down with cold, hard eyes; letting that asshole know he wouldn't be broken. Dan had been in awe of Justin.
But Brian Kinney need only lift an inquisitive eyebrow at the kid, and Justin crumbled in defeat. It just made no sense at all.
There wasn't time for Dan to dwell on the subject. Early morning rounds, a routine by-pass and one post-operative infection ensured his mind was only on the task at hand. It was late afternoon when he grabbed a sandwich from the cafeteria and headed up to his office to check his messages and e-mail.
He flipped to his e-mail first and scanned his inbox, stopping short when he came to an entry that read:
From: John Kundroh @ mgh.harvard.edu
Re: Teaching Position Approved
Dan stared at the e-mail without opening it for a good five minutes. John was the Chief of Cardiac Surgery at Massachusetts General, long considered one of the top five heart hospitals in the country, not to mention the largest teaching hospital affiliated with the Harvard Medical School.
They'd talked several times over the last few years about a new position John was trying to create there. The position he'd described would be the opportunity of a lifetime for the lucky surgeon picked for the job-the chance to build from the ground-up the most aggressive, state-of-the-art surgical education program in the country, and one that would be emulated by scores of other schools and hospitals for decades to come.
Hands suddenly sweaty, Dan clicked twice to open the e-mail. It read simply Green light finally. Call me between two and four this afternoon.
Dan checked the clock-it was 2:34. He wasted no time dialing John's office.
"Daniel Forrester! I haven't even gotten the return receipt saying you read my e-mail!"
Dan laughed along with his colleague. "You know me, John. Cool and collected all the way."
They exchanged pleasantries, then John got down to business. "I've got two pieces of news for you. We just finished setting the speakers for the Nassau convention and you're on for Thursday morning. Call Cindy sometime next week and she'll arrange your travel."
Dan gave an inward whoop. "Fantastic," he said. "Not that Pittsburgh isn't charming this time of year, of course."
"Of course," John agreed. "Okay, here's the news you really want to hear. I got the okay to hire a chief of cardiac surgery education. We want to have the positional installed by June at the latest so we'll have the summer to prepare."
"And..." Dan led him further, and they both laughed.
"And... I'd like to invite you to apply."
Dan bowed his head and pumped his fist in victory. "Excellent," he said. "This is great news. God, John, just great."
"It's a short list, Dan. You, Carlos Arroyo, Lyle Burton, and Jan Barnes. That's it."
"Impressive," Dan said.
"It is," John agreed. "This is a board decision, I'm only one voice even if it is my baby, so I don't want to make any promises or encourage any kind of false hopes, but I personally submitted your name. We've talked about it enough, you know where my head is, and I'm pretty sure I know where yours is. This is an amazing opportunity, but more than that it's right up your alley. Tailor-made for you. "
"Feels that way to me, too," Dan said with a laugh. "Carlos, Lyle and Jan probably think the same."
"Yeah, they probably do. Listen, we'll get into it in Nassau. You coming alone again or have you managed to rope some unsuspecting victim into tagging along?"
"Hadn't really thought about it," Dan answered vaguely, his mind already churning at a thousand miles an hour as he mulled the potential of what John was offering.
"Well Olga's found another one she thinks is perfect for you."
Dan groaned theatrically. "Isn't it enough that she has you to torture? Why bring little innocent me into things?"
"Personally, I appreciate her spreading the wealth," John said.
"I've begged her not to help me."
"I told you begging doesn't work. Caving in and doing her bidding is your only hope."
"Tell her thanks but..."
"Now Olga thinks you'll really hit it off with this one. He's...uh....well, frankly he's an idiot from what I've seen-he's the contractor in charge of the new addition we're putting on, and it's only dumb luck that he hasn't burnt the place down yet--but Olga says he looks like a young Harrison Ford so you probably won't mind that he's an idiot."
Dan chuckled and shook his head. "Tell Olga I wouldn't have recommended her for the board of the GMHC if I'd known she was just there to pimp for me."
"Duly noted. Consider it a fair warning of future harassment, though. We'll see you in Nassau in a few weeks then. Take care."
"You too, John. Bye."
Dan hung up the phone. His heart thundering. Jesus Christ. This was what if felt like to have the whole damn world offered up to you on a silver platter. The idea had seemed like such a pipe dream, even the last time he and John had discussed it. To have it laid out there for him. Jesus.
Skittering at the corner of Dan's mind was the thought that his life was slightly more complicated now than it had been that last time they'd talked, but...
Shit. Yeah. But.
Dan snorted derisively at the vagaries of fate. Last night he'd been troubled by the idea of Justin moving out, and now...
Now.
Shit.
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Brian found that if he acted like the Knight Street coffee shop was simply a convenient place for him to drive 20 minutes first thing in the morning to purchase a $5.00 cup of coffee, then Justin would too. Justin didn't seem to be one for closely examining motives these days, so he took running into Brian every single day all week long as par for the course.
Brian kept the conversation light, refraining from discussions of Justin's education or career choices. He even managed to reign in most of his opinions regarding the illustrious Dr. Forrester and was rewarded with a Justin who grew chattier by the minute.
Still, a man could only change so much in so little time, and when Justin mentioned that he and Dan were going to Babylon that night, Brian let go with a surprised bark of laughter.
"What's so funny?" Justin asked.
Brian absolutely refused to believe that Justin didn't know what was so fucking funny, and he gave him a look that said Don't be so fucking obtuse.
Justin wordlessly answered with a defiant look that said, I'll be fucking obtuse if I want to, which only further amused Brian.
"Don't let him show up in bermudas, wearing Jesus sandals with socks," he advised.
"It's February," was all Justin said.
The past few days, Brian had merely stood over Justin for a brief chat before continuing on his way, but now he pulled out a chair and sat himself down. "Now what brought this on?" he asked. "Bravely venturing out into the thriving Pittsburgh night life? Inquiring minds, Sunshine."
Justin made a sour face at Brian's amusement and said, "You know, Dan may be reserved, but he's not as rigid as you think he is."
"On the contrary," Brian said, feigning offense at Justin's observation. "I always think of him as being extremely flaccid." He smiled sweetly and stood up to go, but not before pressing an affectionate kiss to Justin's forehead. He snickered when Justin shoved him aside. "See you tonight," Brian promised.
Once at the office, Brian sat back in his desk chair and stared out the window, mulling over what he'd learned so far about the present incarnation of Justin Taylor. In a nutshell, he was playing possum-trying to fend off another blow by being as invisible-as lifeless-as possible.
You could hardly fault him, except, of course, that Brian did. God damn it, fight harder, he thought, ignoring the Michael-voice in his head that said, Why should he have to?
Because was the only answer Brian could think of.
The night they'd met, Brian had asked Justin where he was headed, and Justin had said, "No place special." Brian had promised to change all that.
Brian leaned forward in his chair as a thought struck him. That's exactly what Justin was now rejecting.
Justin was embracing "no place special." Embracing it? He was fucking tongue kissing it for all he was worth.
Brian snorted derisively at the introspection. "Too fucking bad, Sunshine," Brian said softly. You're not fucking rotting away no place special. No more playing possum.
Brian remembered that once he and a kid from school had found a dead possum in the woods behind the kid's house. Well, they'd thought it was dead. Brian talked the kid into poking the carcass with a stick, and it had nearly taken the kid's arms off.
Hmm.
That was a really shitty analogy. Fuck it, he'd work on the analogy part later. Right now he had plans to make and a phone call to place, then he had to fucking get back to work. No way in hell he'd be working late tonight, not when there was a show to see at Babylon.
Brian made sure he was parked at the Babylon bar by 9:00 sharp, drawing some surprised stares from the regulars who knew a Brian Kinney appearance before eleven was a rare sight indeed.
Emmett and Ted had gamely agreed to come along, though that meant Brian had to endure Emmett's constant razzing about Dan and Justin: The Greatest Love Story Ever Told. Brian knew Emmett was baiting him, Emmett fucking knew Brian knew he was baiting him, but there was no way in hell Brian would give that God damned Honeycutt the fucking pleasure of telling him to knock it the fuck off, so he suffered in silence. Not exactly silence, per se. He had some choice comments about Emmett's ensem and the last few guys Em had fucked, but other than that he suffered silently.
He started snickering when Dan and Justin made their entrance at 9:10. Christ, the guy probably turned into a pumpkin at midnight.
Justin looked hot in cargo pants and a tight t-shirt, and even Danny Boy looked passable in black pants and solid black button-down. How very 2001, Brian thought.
It wasn't that Brian wouldn't fuck Dan (once). He wasn't fugly by any means, just... uninspiring. No wonder Justin wasn't drawing anymore. Dan as a fucking muse? Hardly.
Justin noticed them over by the bar and expertly led Dan through the less than thriving crowd. Small or not, the crowd still gave off a vibe that said, "Here comes the prodigal son." Even Dan picked up on it, and he warily turned his head left and right, eyeing the men who were eyeing his lover with recognition and something else. Expectation maybe? Dan probably wouldn't recognize it, but Brian sure did.
Emmett and Ted traded knowing looks before Emmett gave Brian a look that said, Behave. Brian had no idea what he could possibly be alluding too, so he ignored him in favor of a warm smile of welcome at Justin and Dan.
Dan greeted Ted first. "Hey, Bob!" he said, so enthusiastically he startled the man. Brian chortled into his drink, prompting Dan to turn to Justin in confusion.
"Ted," Justin corrected.
"They have beds here now?" Dan yelled over the music. "Don't you want to have a drink first?"
Only breeding and self-control kept Brian from doing a spit-take into the back of Ted's head while Justin snickered into Dan's neck. "No, his name is Ted."
"Oh! Shit. Sorry, Ted." Dan slapped him on the shoulder while Ted shrugged.
"What'll you have?" Brian asked.
"You buyin'?" Justin asked with a grin.
"Round One anyway," Brian said.
"Two Chivas Regal," Justin said, waggling his brows at Dan.
The drinks were served, Justin and Dan toasted Brian in thanks, then clanked their classes together and tossed the shots back.
Dan was looking around like a Midwestern farmer in the middle of Manhattan. Brian found himself doubting the man had ever seen a porn video in his life. His eyebrows shot through the roof at the go-go boys, dressed like Roman warriors for the evening. Brian wondered if Justin had told his lover about his own brief stint as a dancer. Probably another reason the great doctor saw himself as savior to the poor little waif.
Justin was trying to coax Dan into dancing, but the man demurred, saying he needed a stronger alcoholic base before giving it a go.
Tired of watching Justin fawn over his timid lover, Brian sidled up to Justin and said, "Guess who my newest client is?"
Justin made a show of thinking it over. "Pat Robertson?" he said.
Brian smirked at him. "Try again."
"Trojan?"
Brian laughed and bumped Justin with his shoulder. "You're a fucker, you know that?"
"So who is it?"
"Ari Simakis."
The name instantly registered with Justin, who gave a brief nod and starting looking around, as if searching for someone in the crowd. "Mutual friend?" Dan asked.
Justin snorted and shook his head. "Never met him," he said.
"He's an art dealer," Brian said, acting only mildly surprised at Dan's ignorance. "Owns a couple of galleries here and in Philadelphia. He likes to discover new artists and ride up with them."
Given Justin's feigned indifference and Brian's triumphant attitude, Dan knew there was more to the story, so he waited it out. When Justin refrained from asking for further details, Brian offered them anyway. "I showed him some of your stuff, and he said if you can produce five more pieces by June, he'll add you to the Young Artist's to Watch..."
Justin abruptly turned away from Brian and craned his neck, now looking for the bartender. "No thanks," he said. "I've got too much going on."
"Too much going on?" Brian echoed in disbelief. "What, Old Navy having a sale?"
Justin shrugged, growing frustrated at the disappearance of the servers, but Brian roughly turned him back around to face him. "Tell me," he ordered, giving Justin a shake. "Tell me what the fuck you think is more important than a show backed by Ari Fucking Simakis!"
Justin shoved Brian off him. "I already have a job! And a full fucking course load! And I don't want to be in a show backed by Ari Fucking Simakis, and that's all the fucking reason you get!"
"No," Brian said, refusing Justin's reason and his attitude. He closed his eyes for a second and sighed deeply. His hands were back on Justin's shoulders, a thumb absently caressing Justin's neck. "I am sorry your mom died," he said, and Justin's face grew almost comically confused. "I swear to God, if there was anything that could change it, I would do it or buy it or God damn fucking will it to happen, all right?" Justin's eyes filled with tears, and he tried to look away, but Brian wouldn't have it. He followed Justin's eyes, forcing him to keep looking at him. "And I am sorry that I fucked up. Do you hear that? Do you fucking hear what I'm saying?" He pulled Justin close to him and spoke right into his ear. "I'm sorry," he said again, and it felt to him like the words were more intimate, yelled over the thumping beat at Babylon, than any whisper could ever be. "But it's time to fucking wake up now. It's time to come back."
Justin gently disengaged himself, slowly shaking his head at Brian's words. "I'm where I want to be," he said.
"Right," Brian said. "You're where you want to be, being the best homosexual you can be. Is that right, Sunshine?"
The words struck a nerve, but Justin refused to be pulled into it.
"Where are you exactly?" Brian continued, moving in on Justin, his posture just shy of belligerent. "Who are you exactly. You tell me where the God damned fuck you are and see if I believe it's where you want to be!"
Emmett took mercy on Justin-or Dan or Brian; it was a tough call to tell which one of them-and pulled Justin out on the dance floor with him just as Dan turned to Brian and fumed, "God damn it, stop!"
"What?" Brian asked innocently.
"Riding him, picking at him, trying to make him feel like a failure because he's not living up to some idea of what you want him to be."
"Christ, how fuckin' rich is that? You think he's not who I want him to be?"
Dan disgustedly shook his head at Brian. "Leave him alone. He doesn't want to be in your fucking friend's little show, is that so hard for you to understand? "
"You wanna know what I don't understand? How you fucking stroll around like you don't have a fucking care in the world, meanwhile, Justin's so totally fucked up, he's going to throw away the fucking opportunity of a lifetime!"
"I'm sensing a pattern here," Dan said. "You, being the selfless humanitarian that you are, keep offering Justin these amazing opportunities of a lifetime, and he keeps turning them down. You know what? If I were you, I'd just quit offering them."
Now Brian shook his head at Dan, unable to fathom how some fucking first-rate surgeon could be such a useless idiot. "He is nowhere and nothing right now. And if you had any idea who he used to be you'd know how fucked up he has to be to accept the fucking shell he is."
Dan's eyes narrowed. "Who he used to be is the guy you dumped, Brian. If he doesn't want to be that guy anymore, it's hardly my fault."
Brian paused for just a minute, absorbing the blow. "Yeah well, one thing about me, Dan, I always fucking clean up my messes."
"He's not a mess!" Dan barked, then had a new idea and chuckled suddenly, giving Brian a knowing once-over. "And you can't stand it, can you? He's fucking fine, and that's what's driving you crazy."
Justin came bounding up to the bar then, sweating and grinning from ear-to-ear. He jumped up and down and pulled on Dan's arm. "Come dance with me!" he said.
Dan laughed and set his glass down. "I would, but then you won't love me anymore." He stared defiantly at Brian as he waited for Justin to say his line.
"Come on!" Justin urged. "You know I'll always love you, no matter what atrocities you commit on the dance floor!"
Dan made a pretense of judging Justin's sincerity, which Justin helped along by plastering an hideously angelic look on his face. They ended up laughing at each other. Dan kissed him and they headed out to the dance floor.
Brian almost laughed out loud. You think that's gonna put me off? We'll see who's standing at the end of it, Asshole.
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Having said nothing about his potential job change to Justin, Dan was itching to discuss it with Charlie, and they'd made plans to meet for breakfast Friday morning. Those plans had sounded better when he wasn't half-dead.
Half? More like three-quarters.
Justin had popped out of bed at seven. He had a meeting at work for a project then was going to work with some friends on a breakfast cereal account or something like that. Dan was concentrating on not dying so the details were a little jumbled.
Justin had offered to make his grandmother's patented hangover remedy, but then he'd started blithely naming off the ingredients until Dan offered him cash to stop it. Justin had checked Dan's wallet and called him a fuckin' tease.
Dan rolled over and squinted at Justin through one barely-opened eyed. "I followed through last night," he reminded Justin.
Justin had grinned at him, all boyish delight, and said, "Plus I won another free night of drinking from Brian when you didn't pull a bottle of anti-bacterial soap after we were done."
"You really get off on messing around back there?" Dan had asked.
Justin nodded. "I really do," he said. Fully clothed, Justin gently straddled Dan who was lying naked under the covers. "Don't even try to tell me you didn't like having me on my knees, sucking your cock in front of all those jealous queers," he said, rubbing his ass against Dan's hardening dick.
"That could have been the novelty of the public display," Dan tried, but Justin just laughed at him.
"Nope, that was all me. Worshipping at the alter of the Holy Daniel Forrester. And you loved it."
Daniel had smiled and brought Justin down for a kiss. He'd felt a momentary twinge of guilt at keeping the job prospect quiet, and it was that guilt more than anything that kept him from calling Charlie and canceling.
Of course, when he mooched into the diner, all Charlie wanted to talk about was whatever it was that had left Dan in his present condition.
"A dance club?" Charlie hooted when Dan gave him the basics. "And Justin didn't clue me in? I should have been there, God damn it!" Charlie imitated Dan's dancing, white-man's overbite and all.
"Shut up," Dan muttered darkly, while Charlie giggled. "I mean it. I have access to drugs that leave no trace, and I'm not afraid to use them."
"You at a dance club! Jesus, I would have paid thousands to see that. J has seriously let me down here. Would a phone call have killed him?"
"What can I say? He's got my back." Dan chugged the orange juice in front of him and motioned to the waitress for a refill, then he knocked back his coffee as well, coughing around the burn.
Charlie watched him in amusement. "I could've warned him about your two drink maximum. You can't hold your fucking liquor for shit, and you never could."
Dan glared at his brother. "I can hold my liquor just fine. Justin's asshole ex-boyfriend was trying to give me alcohol poisoning. He's such an idiot. Like being able to down half a bottle of scotch is a sign of virility or something?"
Charlie shrugged and seemed on the verge of suggesting the guy might be right, but Dan's glare held him back. "Jesus, this gets better and better. A night club, binge drinking, a pissing contest with an ex-boyfriend thrown into the mix. I don't think I've ever been prouder of you, Danny."
"His ex may have drunk me under the table, but he was as lame a dancer as I was, so I've got that going for me," Dan said.
That stumped Charlie for a few seconds. "I can't picture a world where another human being dances as horribly as you do."
"Yeah, well, the magnitude of his suck matched mine, believe me."
"Weird that Justin would hook up with both of you. What are the odds?"
Dan snickered. "You said it. Shit, you should have seen Justin on the dance floor. Every eye in the place was on his ass. You've gotta admit, his ass is amazing anyway, but when he shakes it to a beat..."
Charlie held up a hand to stop him. "Leave the dishy details for lunch with the girlfriends, won't you?"
Dan just shrugged at him and chugged his glass of water.
"So what in the hell possessed you to head out to a night club anyway? Trying to stay young for your boy toy?"
"No, it's not like that," Dan said. "We go out all the time..."
"Go out," Charlie scoffed. "Sitting around at some boring as fuck dinner party is hardly going out. And as fun as a dinner at Chez Forrester can be, that doesn't really qualify either."
"It's not like he's always trying to get me out to some club, you know. I thought he was over that scene."
"Probably felt frivolous after his mom died," Charlie guessed.
Dan nodded. "Probably. I thought he was starting to come back around, but something about reconnecting with the crowd he used to hang out with, and he's back in a funk again."
Charlie nodded, waiting until their breakfast plates had been set down before he said, "Well, maybe your "business" trip to the Bahamas will cheer him up, right?"
Dan said nothing, but his eyes unconsciously slid away from Charlie's for a beat, and that was enough. "What?" Charlie asked.
Dan shrugged and shook his head. "Just... probably not his thing is all."
Charlie snorted at that. "Right. Who in the hell wants beaches, blue skies and 85 degree temperatures after a beautiful Pittsburgh winter?" Charlie gave him the thumbs-up. "Good call, Bro."
Dan rolled his eyes. "It might not even coincide with his spring break, and even if it does, he's got work and...now that he's back with...well I don't know what the hell you call 'em, but he might not be able to get away."
Charlie shook his head with an incredulous laugh. "Even ole Kevvy managed to get away every year, and he would've fuckin' taken a shift at McDonalds if it meant two quarters to rub together. Believe me, Justin could find a way to fit an all expenses paid trek to the islands into his busy schedule."
"Kevin was not money grubbing. Why do you always..."
"Yes he was! He tried to charge me retail to program the registers at my first restaurant! What kind of fuckin' family loyalty is that?"
"We weren't even living together then!" Dan said indignantly. "And he had to ask a programmer from his office to help, you can't expect...God, forget it. I am not having this discussion with you again."
"All I'm sayin' is if Kevin made it his thing then Justin could too."
Dan was shaking his head again, studying the hash browns on his plate with far more interest than they deserved. "What would everyone think? I can just see August Burkholder's face. I didn't know you had a son, Daniel! And John and Olga Kundroh, staunch advocates that they are, wouldn't be quite so You're Here! You're Queer! if I traipse in with Justin on my arm. I'll probably be politely disinvited from interviewing at Mass Gen."
Charlie got quiet for a beat. "That teaching thing?" he asked.
Dan nodded. "It's a go. I'm on the short list with the John's backing. He's the chief of cardiac surgery." Dan shrugged his You do the math.
"I thought you were a lock for chief of cardiac surgery at Grant."
Dan sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Ed Moss is 52 years old. It's a good 13 years before the position opens up, and then I'll get a whopping 10 years or so myself? I don't want to tread water for that long." He leaned forward, hangover forgotten. "It's fucking Harvard, Charlie. The Holy Grail."
"And if Justin goes with you on vacation you won't fuckin' get the job?" Charlie obviously didn't believe it.
Dan wasn't even sure he believed it, but he tried to sound it out. "He's years younger than the residents in the program. The first three months I've got them, it's all about convincing them that they are brainless, unskilled twits until I train them to be otherwise. So then, what, I invite them over for a barbecue with Justin as the co-host?"
"What does one have to do with the other?" Charlie seemed more curious than devil's advocate.
"I'd lose all credibility. The ethics code forbids fucking around with a resident, but, hey, give me an undergrad, and I'm all over him!"
Finishing his eggs, Charlie washed them down with his last swig of coffee. "You're the worst combination of paranoia and ego I've ever seen. No one thinks about you nearly as much as you think they do."
"Most of them are barely tolerant of the gay thing, and then I show up with a kid who looks like he should be in a TV commercial for Tonka Trucks?" Dan said, incredulous himself at Charlie's easy dismissal of his concerns. "It feeds into every nasty stereotype they pretend not to have, and the bottom line is it just won't fly."
"Who's they?"
"God, Charlie, for once would you leave the left wing liberal semantics alone? You know what I mean."
Charlie obviously didn't think much of Dan's reasoning. He rolled his eyes as he stuffed the rest of his muffin in his mouth. "So, wait for him to graduate. He's got, what, another couple of semesters?"
"Right. Ask the board if they can hold the position for me while my lover finishes college? That oughta go over well."
Charlie shrugged and shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. "I thought things were good with you two."
"They are good," Dan said. "But we're sure as hell not there yet-not throwing in for the long-haul together kind of there. We haven't made plans like that. We haven't talked about anything like that."
Charlie laughed. "Jesus, you have no idea what you miss not fucking around with women. You two are livin' together for months, and you've never talked about The Future? You can't get two feet from a woman's bedroom without making up all this shit up about what's going to happen later. You got an amazing gig there."
Dan studied his brother over the rim of his coffee cup. "You know what's amazing is that every time you get divorced you sit here and shake your head and say you have no idea what happened."
Charlie offered another eye roll. "So do the long distance thing for awhile. He can join you when you're there."
Dan shrugged at that idea. He stared at the wall over Charlie's shoulder, thinking aloud. "I wouldn't hate 600 miles between Justin and Brian Kinney, that's for sure," he said darkly.
Charlie snorted. "We less Zen about the ex sniffin' around than we pretend?"
"Not the way you think," Dan said. "Justin is so blind when it comes to that guy. He makes Justin think he's weak and stupid and worthless and then he circles back around and says, 'Justin, you're so strong and smart!' and Justin buys it-he's all demoralized because the asshole is ragging on him, then he beams when the guy takes it back. It's infuriating."
"Well, sucks to be you all the way around these days, doesn't it?"
"If I do end up in Boston, I'm really going to miss these brotherly chats," Dan said dryly.
Charlie's smile was all sugary sweetness. "Uh huh. Me too."
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