Gift # 18

[mander3-swish.livejournal.com]

TO: sxysadie21
FROM: asm614
TITLE: Promises
GIFT REQUEST: Feelgood friendship. Brian and Ben (friendship)
NOTE: To my fellow Beatles lover: Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!!

“So you’ll be here by Monday night before Christmas Eve, then?” Brian asked, watching the bourbon swirl in his glass. The light from the fireplace across the room made its amber color glow like burning embers.

“Sooner if I can, but I’m pretty sure Margie will make me close the gallery that day,” Justin replied. “Things here have been crazy with the holidays. Granted, it’s good-crazy, but still crazy.”

Brian finished his drink in one smooth swallow. “Where are you right now?”

“Meeting Daphne and Conrad to go skating at Rockefeller…. Would you believe it’s over thirty fucking dollars to skate for an hour and a half? That’s at least two-and-a-half drinks at Barracuda,” Justin complained.

Brian chuckled. “Poor Sunshine. Except, I know you. One foot on the ice and that giant monstrosity of a tree twinkling down upon you, and you’ll be swept away in the magic of the season.”

“I know,” Justin admitted, laughing too. “And I’ve been promising Daph for months that we could do this once the tree was up. It’s just really cold, and I think it’s ridiculous to pay so I can freeze my balls off.”

“That’s true; I do rather like your balls. Try not to let that happen.” Brian smirked to himself.

“I’ll do my best…. Hey, they just got here. I’ll call you later?”

Before Brian could respond, he heard Daphne’s bubbly voice calling hello to him over the line.

“Tell Ms. Chanders and her inamorato hello for me as well.”

“I will. Talk to you later,” Justin said.

“Sure. Later.”

The house was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire. Sometimes, this was desirable, particularly on days when chaos seemed to erupt from every pore of Kinnetik, and all Brian wanted was some peace. Other times, he craved the activity that came from Gus visiting, or Justin home from New York—the respective sounds of video games, or creativity as brushes slapped a canvas. That night, the silence was comfortable.

Brian had just refreshed his drink when a heavy knock on the front door startled him. Late night visitors—especially ones who arrived unannounced—were never good things.

“The fuck?” Brian muttered, checking the security camera. He was puzzled to see that Ben stood on the doorstep, fidgeting impatiently. Hitting the intercom button, Brian said, “Just a minute, Professor,” before heading to the foyer.

“May I come in?” Ben asked as soon as Brian opened the door.

Without a word, Brian stepped aside and gestured Ben into the house. In the brighter light, he could see that Ben looked terrible—he had a grayish pallor and, once he shrugged off his coat, it appeared that he’d lost some weight, even in the brief time since Brian had last seen him.

He followed Brian out of the foyer, politely refusing when he was offered something to drink.

“What’s wrong?” Brian asked, once they were seated in the living room, in front of the fire so Ben could warm up quickly.

Ben sighed. He realized that Brian wasn’t going to beat around the bush like Michael often did, engaging in small talk until he worked up the courage to tackle the elephant in the room.

“I need to ask for a favor,” Ben began. “But first, I need you to make me a promise.”

Brian pressed his lips together and nodded. “I’ll need to know a little more before I can offer you any guarantees.”

“I figured as much,” Ben said. “I need this to stay between us. Specifically, I need your word that you won’t discuss this with Michael, Hunter, Debbie, or anyone else until I’m ready.”

“This sounds serious, Professor,” Brian commented, his tone grim. He didn’t like where this was going already.

Ben frowned, but continued. “This is not about keeping secrets. I want you to understand that, Brian. I have no intention of keeping Michael in the dark, but only once I have some solid answers. It’s the holidays, and Hunter is home. I want our family to be able to enjoy that time, and not worry unless there is something to worry about.”

Brian nodded. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

“I need someone who knows what’s going on. And someone who will be prepared if I have to deliver bad news… in the event that that’s the case.”

Brian’s brow furrowed with concern, but he said nothing as he waited for Ben to say more. The burn of bourbon felt even more pronounced as it slid down his throat.

Ben took a deep breath before continuing. “I haven’t been feeling well for several weeks now… but the symptoms have become more pronounced in the last few days. Michael believes I have a stomach virus or the flu, since both have been going around…. I saw our family physician a week or so ago, and he said as much.”

“But you think it’s something else?”

“Well,” Ben hesitated, “not necessarily. But I can’t say with any certainty that it’s the only issue. I have an appointment tomorrow with my HIV specialist to have some tests that should give me more answers—namely, if this is related to the disease or not.”

“I see,” Brian said, nodding slowly as he processed the information. He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to his next question, but knew he needed to ask anyway. “What’s the worst-case scenario right now?”

Ben shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sighed again. “The worst case is that my viral load is up again. Three months ago, it was virtually undetectable, but… it can change without warning. The cocktail could stop working suddenly, my immune system could crash… it could be any number of things, really.”

“And your current symptoms are consistent with that possibility?” Brian asked, finishing off his second drink.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Brian stood, moving toward the bar as he spoke. “When will you get the results?”

Ben chuckled, though it sounded a bit forced. “It depends on when they’re scheduled with the lab. It could be anywhere between one or two days and a full week. Nice, right?”

“Typical,” Brian snorted. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” he tried again, tipping a bottle of Jim Beam in Ben’s direction.

“Thank you, but no,” Ben declined again. “My stomach has been a bit uneasy the past several days. I’ve been trying to stick to a bland diet.”

“And that’s different from your normal culinary proclivities how?” Brian teased.

Ben laughed genuinely. “Thank you, Brian. I needed that.”

“I only speak the truth,” Brian said with a shrug, though he allowed a small but sincere smile. He returned to his seat and set his refilled glass on the table next to him.

“I know you do,” Ben said, his tone sobering.

It was Brian’s turn to sigh. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his hands. “What’s the best-case scenario?”

Ben considered this. “It will be a miracle if my viral load is still undetectable, but honestly, I would be surprised if that’s the case. Anytime my immune system is severely compromised, my viral load increases…. So, I guess that the best-case scenario is that my T-cell count is decent, and viral load is low, if not undetectable.”

Brian nodded. “Let’s hope for that.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Ben said. “But I have to be honest with you, Brian. There’s a reason I’ve chosen to come to you with this now. I need you to be prepared in case my test results are far from the best case. The truth is, if the tests present any truly alarming results, there’s the possibility that my doctor will want to hospitalize me.”

“That seems a bit drastic, doesn’t it, Professor? Viral loads go up and down, can’t they just adjust your meds and see what happens?” Brian asked, and Ben could see him mentally filtering through all he’d learned about HIV over the previous few years.

Ben sighed. “Possibly, yes. But with symptoms severe as mine have been… if my immune system crashes, and my counts are poor, the consequences could potentially be fatal.”

Brian sat up straight again and gave Ben a sharp look, but didn’t say anything. Ben could tell what he was thinking, though.

“I just want to protect him, Brian. You know how he gets when he starts to worry, and it’s better for everyone if we all just continue with our normal activities—” Ben began, trying to explain.

“And if you get your test results then have to call him up and say, ‘Sorry, Honeybunch, but you’ll be spending Christmas at Allegheny General,’ then that’ll just be it? You don’t think he’ll freak the fuck out then? If he finds out there’s a chance you could die?” Brian snapped.

Ben closed his eyes and winced, massaging roughly at his forehead. “Of course he will. I know that, Brian. And he may be furious at first. But if it means that we can still have a few days of family time before that, it’s better than Michael having to go through all the emotions associated with worrying. I’ll be doing enough of that for both of us.”

“How noble of you,” Brian muttered, rolling his eyes.

“But if I had cancer instead, it would be acceptable to keep him in the dark for a while?” Ben countered pointedly, raising his eyebrows. It was below the belt, somewhat literally, and he knew it, but he needed Brian to try to understand.

“Fuck. You.” Brian’s voice was heated and his words clipped, but his expression conveyed something different. He was scared, even if he would never admit it, least of all to Ben.

Ben waited a few seconds before deeming it safe to continue. “It’s not just about me, Brian. There’s Hunter too. This scares him. It terrifies him in a way that Michael can’t understand, no matter how hard he tries to relate. If Michael knows about this, there’s no way Hunter won’t find out. There’s no way Michael will be able to keep his emotions hidden. Hunter is healthy and happy right now. The last thing he needs to worry about, during Christmas, of all times, is his own HIV status, and what having the disease might eventually mean for him.”

For several seconds, the room filled with a heavy silence. Ben took it as a good sign that Brian didn’t have an immediate retort.

Finally, Brian sighed heavily. “Listen to me. Are you listening?”

“Yes, of course,” Ben replied, trying to prevent his lips from quirking up in the corners. He doubted Brian even realized what he had said, but clearly, it was an indication of Michael’s importance to the situation.

“I want to know what’s going on every step of the way,” Brian said, enunciating his last five words very carefully. “And the second you know something conclusive, you will tell your husband.”

“I will,” Ben agreed, nodding solemnly.

“Good.” Brian pressed his lips together and nodded, seeming to be satisfied for the moment.

Ben glanced out the window, noticing that the snow had started to fall more heavily than it had been when he’d arrived.

“I should probably get back home before the roads get much worse,” he said, moving to leave. “Thank you for everything, Brian.”

“Don’t thank me, Professor. Just stick to your word, and I’ll keep mine,” Brian replied, standing.

“I will. I just don’t want anyone to worry more than they have to,” Ben promised, pulling on his jacket after they walked back into the foyer.

“You sure you want to drive in this?” Brian asked, looking out the front window.

“I think it should be fine by the time I get back to the main roads, but I’ll head back this way if it’s not.”

Brian nodded. “Sure. Take care of yourself, Ben.”

“Thanks, Brian.”

The two men exchanged a brief embrace before Ben left, and Ben pretended not to notice that Brian held on a little tighter than usual.

***

The next day, Brian was in the middle of a meeting when he saw a new message pop up on his phone.

I’ll have the results by Friday.

After glancing up to make sure Ted hadn't moved to a new slide of financial projections, he tapped out a quick message of his own.

You alright? Need anything? Free in 30, mtg now.

It only took a few seconds for Ben to reply back, Thanks, but no. Feeling okay. Meeting M @diner for lunch. Will be in touch.

***

Friday approached quickly for Brian; the week before the holidays always seemed to fly when there was a lot to get done, but he knew that the days had dragged on for Ben. The two men spoke multiple times daily, and Ben kept Brian apprised of how he was feeling on a regular basis, good or bad. True to his word, though, Brian had not said a word to Michael, who, for the most part, didn't seem to suspect anything amiss.

Brian's phone buzzed on his desk about five minutes after he knew Ben's appointment had been scheduled to begin.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Fuck.

Alarmed, Brian snatched his phone off of the desk and replied immediately.

What happened???

Doc is running late. Wait is killing me.

Brian groaned, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

For fuck's sake, Professor. I thought you had the results.

Sorry. No, not yet. Soon.

Do you need company? Can be there in 5 min.

There was a two-minute delay before Ben replied again. Going in now. Will follow up. Thanks again.

And then there was radio silence for the next hour and a half.

***

When his office phone rang in the middle of lunch, Brian jumped on the receiver immediately. "Kinney."

"Your twelve-thirty is here," Cynthia informed him.

"I don't have a—" Brian began to protest, but then his office door was thrown open, and Michael barreled in. Brian was barely able to stand up from his desk before Michael's arms wrapped around him, squeezing desperately.

Looking over Michael's shoulder, Brian saw Ben standing in the doorway, with Cynthia just behind him.

"I thought you wouldn't mind the impromptu scheduling addition," she said lightly, before turning to walk back to her desk.

"Thank you so much," Michael was murmuring into Brian's shoulder.

"Professor?" Brian asked questioningly, as his arms relaxed around Michael's still-clinging form.

Ben's smile was bright as he stepped forward, fully into the office. "I'm fine, Brian. It was just a bad case of the flu, but my CD-4 count is decent, and my viral load, miraculously, is still undetectable. False alarm."

Brian couldn't stop the full grin that broke out on his face, and for once, he allowed it to stay. This was news worth celebrating. He gently worked his way out of Michael's grip.

"Congratulations," he told Ben sincerely, walking around the desk to offer a quick hug.

"I know I left you hanging," Ben said, his tone apologetic, "but once I got the results, I knew there was one person I needed to tell first."

Brian smirked. "Only you would apologize for keeping your word."

"Ben told me everything," Michael chimed in, seeming to have his emotions under control again. "I wish he felt like he could have said something, but I understand why he didn't. I'm just so glad that he had you."

Brian cleared his throat, feeling a little uncomfortable with the accolades. "I barely did a thing."

"You gave me your trust," Ben argued. "And your support. And you didn't let me feel alone, even though you didn't agree with my choices. That counts for a hell of a lot."

Brian opened his mouth to say something, but Michael cut him off. "For once, just allow yourself to be acknowledged by people who love you."

"And now," Ben continued, "we can all move into the Christmas holidays with plenty to celebrate."

Brian contemplated this, as he looked from his best friend, who was beaming under his husband's arm, and thought about Justin, due home in just a few more days.

He really couldn't argue.