The Unapocalypse
by Julad

When he wakes up, he's in Michael's bed, and he's naked.

Michael looks over at him. "That was really fucking stupid, you know that?"

Brian remembers fucking him. It's odd, but he doesn't seem angry.

Michael's shaking his head. "Really. fucking. stupid, Brian."

Is this the awful morning after? The sex felt great, but he's not really at home here. He wants the loft, the shower in the loft. He wants the sunlight coming in from the windows, and Justin for breakfast. Is there a scene he needs to make, to get it over with? Does he have to break Michael's heart so he can leave?

Michael's reading the paper, and he's frowning down at him like Deb might. There's a plate of toast on the bed between them. "Ben's gonna kill me for this. Justin'll queen out, bigtime."

"Michael," Brian says, and he'll let his face show he's confused.

Michael kisses him like Brian kisses Michael, like, 'hi, best friend, I love you.'

"Go home to Justin," he says. "We're good."

"Hey," Justin says, Sunshine in sunlight at home in the loft. "Did you stay at Michael's?"

"Yeah," Brian says. "Kinda. We fucked, actually." Maybe this is the scene that has to happen; maybe he has to break Justin's heart.

He'll let his face show that he's still confused.

"No fucking way!" Justin crows. "Are you shitting me?"

Now he needs coffee. "No," he says, grumpily. "We really fucked. It felt good."

He doesn't want to break Justin's heart. He doesn't want to have this scene. He wants Justin and his shower, and maybe some bacon with sourdough.

"Is Michael pissed off?" Justin asks, approaching with obvious caution.

He needs to lie down on the couch, he decides, and waits for the world to catch up to the significance of this event. It's infuriatingly slow to respond, today, and he's not a patient man. Justin sits down by his feet, and starts work on his shoelaces.

"I guess you don't want to talk about it right now," Justin says, pulling off his shoes, and then peeling his socks away. He takes Brian's feet into his lap and rubs them gently.

Brian wonders if maybe what he needs is vodka, because if there's some complicated emotional subtext underlying all this, he's sure as hell shouldn't be looking for it.

"Coming for a shower?" He grabs Justin by the wrist, and Justin comes, giggling, and then comes screaming his name.

Breakfast somewhere civilised was obviously too much to hope for, so he finds himself ordering bacon and sourdough at the Liberty Diner.

Deb cracks her gum at him. "So, you and Mikey finally did the deed, huh?" She pours him coffee, and then juice for Justin. "'Bout fucking time." Then she moves on to the next table.

He drinks his coffee very slowly, in case it's poisoned.

"Oh, look," Justin says. "It's Michael and Ben!" He waves them over.

Brian drains his coffee in two gulps, in case it's poisoned. Clearly, this is where the great dramatic scene is going to take place. Earlier, there just wasn't a big enough audience, and unlike Ben, neither Justin nor Michael could take him in a fight.

Michael throws himself into their booth. "Hey guys!"

Ben nods at them as he sits down. "Good morning, Justin. Brian."

"He's a bit angry at us," Michael confides to Brian, loud enough for Justin and Ben to overhear.

"I'm not angry," Ben says, very evenly. "I think it's a very positive development, and that you'll both grow emotionally from it. I just would have preferred it if you'd consulted me first."

Michael makes a 'See?' face at Brian while Ben studies the menu. "I told you it was stupid," he stage whispers.

"I think it's great," Justin butts in, bouncing on his seat. "You've been friends forever, and now there's nothing you don't know about each other. Daphne and I feel the same way."

Brian's sure this day can't get any worse, but Emmett and Ted materialise, shoving Brian and Ben along to squish in.

"So, girls," Emmett begins, clutching his hands to his chest. "I hear congratulations are in order!"

Ted's drooling, as usual. "Tell us everything."

Michael shrugs. "It was really nice," he says. "I'm glad it happened." He looks apologetically at Ben. "Although I wish I'd consulted you first. I'm really sorry about that."

"It's okay. I understand, really." Ben slings an arm around Michael's shoulders, and Michael snuggles in with a blissful smile.

By the time he and Justin get back to the loft, Brian's at the end of his rope. "Can you please just yell at me, and get it over with?" he begs. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm really fucking sorry this time, and I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Bri-an," Justin says, all teenage impatience. "I'm not pissed. Unless you plan to do it again. Are you gonna do it again?"

Brian collapses on the bed. "Christ, no."

Justin flops down next to him. "See? I have nothing to worry about. You did it, it's over, you can move on." He props his head on an elbow, and waggles his eyebrows. "And now you know Michael's not the great undiscovered love of your life, maybe you'll consider some of the other applicants for the position?"

After some thought, Brian decides he'll let his face show his relief.

"You're really fucking stupid, you know that?" Justin says, and Brian leans in and kisses him; kisses him like he's only ever kissed Michael.

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