Gale Harold *Piece Of Heaven*


Ari Gold
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Andy Stochansky


Confessions by Teri
Rated R for language
B/M/J-  This is one of three fics.  Michael has left
Pittsburgh.  This is Brian's story
Disclaimer- The characters featured here that appear
on QAF are the property of CowLip and Showtime.  I own
none of them.  This is for private entertainment and
is not making any profit.

The low hum of engines and the canned air wafting over
his face lulled him to lethargy.  He stared out the
window gazing at silvery moonlight glinting off the
plane's wings.  Clouds slipped past like ghostly
images through a murky sea of black.  The woman
sitting next to him in the first class part of the
cabin had tried to strike up a conversation with him,
but soon gave up, frustrated by his one word answers.

A year had past since Mikey had left for New York,
moving on to bigger and better things.  He had
continued, but life echoed hollow since his best
friend was gone.  Business was good.  He had moved up
in the company, landed quite a few major accounts for
the firm, and to anyone who glanced his way, seemed to
be a huge success.

Justin, Ted and Emmett rejoiced in each triumph, but
the one person he wanted to share his achievements
with most was not there.  Michael had not put forth
the slightest effort to contact him.  For the last
year, he had not heard Michael's voice.  He missed it
So here he was, on a plane to New York, spending the
boring hour and a half thinking about his best friend.

Justin had delighted in keeping him informed about
every aspect of Michael's life.  Rage was a giant hit,
all Michael's co-workers loved him, and he was the
reigning genius at Marvel.  He had been involved in a
few relationships, been seen with some of the hottest
guys in New York.  Michael had taken to the city like
a fish to water; he was right at home and thriving.

All of this he had to hear second hand, but the only
person he could blame was himself.  His mind went back
to the moment at the airport when Michael had said
goodbye.  Even now, he cringed at the words that had
spewed from his mouth like daggers.

It had taken him a year to work up the courage to get
on this plane.  For a long while he put the blame on
Michael, angry with him for leaving.  Then the hurt
set in.  They were supposed to be a team, always and
forever.  Having everyone, not only Justin, report to
him about how wonderful Michael was doing, didn't help
him any either.

But one night at Woody's, Justin and Ethan had joined
him for drinks.  They had surprised everyone by
eventually getting along.  But this night, Justin
drank too much and it loosened his tongue.  He had
listened, taking the younger man's words to heart.

Michael was a success, but it was tempered by sadness.
 His trademark smiles, when they did appear, vanished
as quickly as they came.  Justin had heard some of the
people in the office comment on it, wondering what
could have happened to hurt Michael so.  Only Justin
knew that Michael suffered from a broken heart, and
managed to go on in spite of it.   

For days, he had dwelled on this information.  Finally
one night, while circling the floor at Babylon,
keeping tabs on a trick that looked a lot like
Michael, he realized he didn't want to settle for a
look-alike.  He wanted, no, needed his Mikey.

A peek in Justin's calendar during breakfast at the
diner had clued him in to the party, taking place
tonight.  Arranging a few days away from the office
had been relatively simple, for once.  He wasn't quite
sure what he was going to do or say, but one thing was
for sure; this was not something he would be able to
sarcastically, wisecrack his way through.  He was
going to have to confess everything.  

With a bump, the plane landed and sped down the
runway, finally slowing and coming to a full stop at
the jet way.  A short time later found him exiting a
cab, and climbing up a flight of stairs.  He paused
when a doorman held open the oversized, ornate door.
"Excuse me, can you tell me, is this where the Marvel
party is being held?"

"Yes sir," the man confirmed.

He made his way to the front desk and checked in.  Now
all he had to do was find Mikey.

Entering the ballroom, he scanned the crowd, seeking
for his prey.  A laugh to his right caught his
attention.  Justin looked up and smiled at him, then
went back to his conversation.  Why wasn't Justin
surprised to see him?  He would wonder about that
later; he had to get back to the reason why he was
here.  Another search revealed no Michael.  Now what
was he going to do?  Maybe Justin knew where he was.
He started toward the blonde head but then froze.
Michael was coming through a pair of French doors
across the room.

It seemed the whole world slowed, and he was watching
everything, especially Michael, move in slow motion.
He looked amazing.  In the last year, it looked like
Michael had discovered something other than tee shirts
and jeans.  He could tell that the dark chocolate
leather jacket would feel like butter.  A cream
colored v-neck beckoned him to see if it was as soft
as it looked.  The thin leather belt threaded through
loops of tan slacks, hugged a trim waist, causing his
mouth to water.

But more than the clothes, it was the man himself that
was captivating.  He moved with a grace and surety
that drew the eye.  This was a man who knew his place
in the world and was comfortable in it.   He knew
Michael would've changed; this caught him unaware.
Michael had always been hot, but now he was.incredibly

Before he could stop himself, he murmured, "Mikey."
When no response was forthcoming, he raised his voice
just enough to be heard above the crowd.  "Mikey."  

Fathomless brown eyes met his; voluptuous lips
silently formed the word, "Brian?" 

His feet propelled him to the spot right in front of
Michael.  There was so much he wanted to say.  "Mikey,
we need to talk."  His heart plummeted when Michael
shook his head.  He was not above begging at this
point.  "Please, Mikey."

The dark eyes fell from his, locking onto something
further away, but then he felt warm fingers weave
between his, tugging him across the room.  

They reached a balcony that overlooked the city.
Standing at the railing, he waited for Michael to
speak, to scream at him, to at least ask him why, but
Michael stood silently.  With a deep sigh, he turned;
searching the face he had missed so much.

"Why didn't you ever call or write me, Mikey?  A whole
year, and not a single word!  You couldn't even send
me a fucking email?"  As the words left his mouth he
flinched, hearing how it sounded, wondering what
happened to his resolve to do this the way it needed
to be done.

The soft, sure, statement that answered him hurt more
than if Michael would have yelled at him, "You made it
perfectly clear when I left, that you wanted me out of
your life forever."

"Shit!  And you believed me?  How did you think I
would react?  Smile, wish you good luck?"  Michael's
shrug of indifference cut him like a serrated knife,
twisting in his gut.  He wanted to scream to the
heavens, to grab Mikey and shake him, somehow making
him understand what was in his heart without actually
having to say the words. 

He turned Michael around to face him, holding him,
longing to pull him close and never let him go.  But
Michael needed words first.  "I thought we were the
dynamic duo, Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad, Rage and
Zephyr.  Nothing, not even the forces of evil would be
able to separate us.  But you ripped us apart."

Disbelief flared in the inky orbs that looked up at
him.  "I had to grow up Brian!  I might write a comic
book but sometimes I have to live in the real world.
I couldn't follow you around forever.  I've made a
life for myself.  I had to adapt to life without you.

It was just what he didn't want to hear.  Michael had
gone past him, past them.  Reflexively,  he dragged
Michael nearer.  He could smell the spice of  his
friend's cologne, feel the heat radiating from the
body he wanted to caress.  Keeping the pain out of his
words was impossible.

"I know you have.  Justin has told me."  A pained
smile was answer to Michael's shock.  Brian continued,
"Justin has made sure that I know everything about you
since you left.  Sometimes I think he should be the
writer, with all the enthusiasm he has had, regaling
me with stories of your successes."  He swallowed
hard, "And your lovers.  But I don't give a fuck how
many tricks you've had.  It doesn't matter."

"Then tell me what does, Brian."

He felt like he was losing this battle.  The deadness
in Michael's voice scared him.  How was he going to
sell the idea of  THEM?  He was the best ad man in
Pittsburgh; he could do this.  It hit him like  the
proverbial ton of bricks, he needed to remind Mikey of
the past.

"Close your eyes.  What do you see?"

Michael's whisper gave him hope.  "You."

"Tell me." 

He never took his eyes off Michael's face, watching
the movements behind the translucent eyelids as he
sifted through memories. 

"The first time we met, when I showed you where the
school office was.  The two of us on my bed, looking
at that damned magazine."  Brian couldn't contain his
chuckle at the vision that memory brought up. 

Michael continued reciting.  "When you left to go to
college.  Watching you on the dance floor at Babylon.
The smile you had when you held Gus for the first
time.  All the times we shared a bed.  When we got
stuck on the turnpike with the flat tire.  Holding you
while you cried, in the hallway of the hospital,
waiting for news about Justin.  Living through the
aftermath of Justin leaving with Ethan."

But then the axe fell.  "But most often, I see the
hate in your eyes when I told you goodbye."  Brian
reeled inside, but he wasn't going to give up.  This
was too important.

"It wasn't hate, it was hurt."

He was almost afraid of the answer but he had to ask,
"What do you think I see, when I close my eyes?" 

The answer was not was something he
would have said if he were not trying so hard to be

"I dunno, some twink sucking you off?"  Brian winced.
That hurt and it was no more than he deserved.  He
hoped he could convince Michael otherwise; he had to.

"I see you.  I see the frustration in your eyes when
your mom walked in on us when we were 14.  I see the
pain flash in them when I took Justin home.  The hurt
and anger I inflicted when I outted you to Tracey at
your birthday party.  When I accosted you in the shop.
 When I said all those horrible things to you when you

Michael tried to interrupt, but Brian stopped his
words with a finger laid gently soft lips.  "Sshh...I
caused you so much pain, Mikey."  Closing his eyes, he
conjured up other images.  "But then I see the moment
that you took my hand on the hospital roof, the
happiness on your face when I gave you the comic book,
the sultry gaze when I took those pictures for your
ad, the love in your eyes after I kissed you on the

"Don't you see, Mikey?  Even after a year of being
apart, we really are still together." 

"I can't do this, Brian.  I can't give you everything
and get nothing in return.  It's taken me this long to
realize that I don't have to settle for the little
things you dole out.  I want it all; I deserve it
all."  Brian stared at Michael's back.  Hope was
starting to slip away like so much sand in an
"I've never said different, Mikey.  You are the person
most deserving of that."

Suddenly, Michael was toe-to-toe with him, demanding,
"Are you willing to give me everything then?  Are you
willing to be in a relationship?"

Brian wanted to shout 'Yes!' but his heart pushed the
truth out before he could stop it.  "I don't know, but
I'd like a chance to try."  He couldn't lie, not to
Mikey.  He had to be honest, even if it was brutally

Michael turned away again, standing silently erect,
head up, shoulders squared, as if bracing himself
against the pain he knew was coming.

Brian's shoulders slumped.  He had lost.  Apparently,
all the memories they shared were not enough to get
them past all the hurt.  How was he going to survive
without Mikey? 

He had to go, escape from Michael's presence.  But
involuntarily, his hand reached out to sift through
sable locks, one last touch to get him through the
rest of his life.  His eyes slid closed, so he didn't
see Michael's head drop in surrender when he murmured,
"Always have, always will."

He had one last confession to make, for what it was
worth.  "I love you, Mikey."  Somehow that wasn't
right.  "I'm in love with you."

"Do you have any idea how long I have waited to hear
you say those exact words?"

Brian's heart soared, as if on wings. He had not lost
his Mikey, he only had to battle the demons that
threatened to keep them apart.    "As long as it took
for me to learn to say them."