"Like anyone would be, I am flattered by your fascination with me
Must be strangely exciting, to watch the stoic squirm
Must be somewhat heartening, to watch shepherd need shepherd
But you, you're not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight."

— "Uninvited" by Alanis Morissette.

Sonny claimed not to remember, but he and Brian had met before.

It was the buzz from his phone that woke him.

Face still pressed into the pillow, he blindly fumbled for the phone on his dresser. The too-bright light from the touch screen burned his tired eyes. He squinted at the text message.

Hot yoga at 8?

A whole slew of rage-infused profanity sprang to mind. Only one person would be so unwise as to attempt waking him at the crack of dawn, especially after the late night he had. Mentally snarling, he dropped his face back into the pillow. His phone chirped again.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

His head was pounding, and the Tylenol was all the way in the bathroom. The best remedy for a brutal hangover was simply sleeping through it— said his professional pre-med opinion— and a certain someone was going to pay dearly if he wasn't able to get back to that soon.

Rather than hurling his phone against the wall, he sent back a succinct response that encapsulated all his feelings.

Hiiiiiiiiiiisssssssss.

The quick reply was just as obnoxious as the cheerful tone that he could hear from all the way across town. Free coffee in it for you!

He considered just ignoring him and going back to sleep. He could turn off his phone. He should.

fie on your coffee!

Yeah right. When had Brian ever been able to ignore him? That would require way more self-respect, not to mention self-control…

You're awake! :D Throw on some sweats and meet me in 20?

Nope. Never should have acknowledged him.

Rustling on the other side of the bed reminded him that he wasn't alone. The brunette whose name escaped him in the cold light of day lifted his head and blinked blurrily at him. "Who's texting you so early?"

Brian eyed him, already wondering how to get this guy out of his room. He might not remember his fling's name, but the steps leading up to him were burned into his brain. Sonny, shining under lights at the Spot, smiling (apologetically, Brian thought) and telling him to dance with this guy.

With his arm securely around Sonny's waist, Will had asked, "Why not?"

Why not?

"Nobody," Brian said. He glanced back at his phone.

Pretty please?

"Persistent nobody," the kid muttered.

"Go back to sleep."

"Kinda hard with that thing going off every second. Tell him to knock it off."

Solid advice, even if it was from a virtual stranger.

Brian sighed.

Brian's freshman year of high school was notable for being the year that the Kiriakis brothers invaded Salem High.

Four beautiful, wealthy boys from a prominent family, and they took the school by storm. There was no ignoring them.

Alex, attractive and talented, jumped straight onto Varsity football when all the other juniors were still on JV. The twins, Vic and Joey, were class clowns, so charming in their double act that even the teachers couldn't stay mad at them for regularly interrupting class. Everyone wanted to be around them, even if it was just on the periphery of their group.

Sonny was the exception. No less attractive, but painfully shy. Sonny kept his head down, going about his business and doing his best not to bring attention to himself. Brian only knew Sonny was in his year because they shared freshman English class. He didn't speak unless spoken to, and he never raised his hand.

Brian knew a little something about keeping his head down, about doing everything in your power to keep people from seeing the real you. And maybe that was why he found Sonny so interesting.

That was an understatement, of course.

Sonny didn't ask for it, but he had Brian's attention pretty much 100% of the time. Brian's assigned seat seemed specifically chosen to torture him because it came with a distracting view of Sonny's neck.

Sitting directly behind him, Brian could count the freckles on his neck— two, there were two— and spend the entire period imagining touching the spot where Sonny's dark hair met his pale skin.

Between an emerging sexual identity, ever-increasing pressure from his father to excel in all things, and the everyday stresses of high school, he felt as if he were going to jump out of his skin at any given moment.

Looking at Sonny made him feel grounded, as if there might actually be a light at the end of the tunnel to make it all worth it.

He didn't really let himself consider the possibility that Sonny might be straight. That outcome didn't fit the fantasy picture he was constructing. Besides, he had something of a sixth sense about these things. He'd been right about Dylan Ryan, the class president. While that fling had been fun, his feelings then didn't compare to this.

Sonny was Brian's first experience with puppy love.

Fraught, irrational puppy love.

He had crushes before, but Sonny arrived just at the right time in Brian's life when crushing became pining, and pining led to embarrassing things like poems written in the heat of desperation (poems that he would hide in the back of his closet) and clandestine attempts at finding out more about Sonny without actually engaging with him.

It was difficult when no one other than his brothers seemed to know anything about him, and Brian couldn't exactly ask them.

In his braver moments, Brian contemplated actually reaching out to Sonny. He considered that befriending Sonny might actually put both of them out of their misery.

Brian wasn't as introverted as Sonny. He was mostly successful at hiding his blistering insecurities deep down inside. He had a lot of friends.

But he suspected that Sonny was just as lonely as he was underneath the façade. The Sonny in his head was just waiting for Brian to reach out so they could get started on finally being happy.

The trouble was that when he wasn't hiding behind a book, Sonny spent most of his time at school with his brothers. He ate lunch with them. They also walked home together.

Brian had never seen brothers who seemed to like each other as much as the Kiriakis boys did. Brian's own brother always yelled at him for any little thing and certainly wouldn't have let Brian cramp his style at school.

But, really, the main problem was that Sonny had never made so much as eye contact with him.

The closest Brian ever came to kicking off his epic love story was a single awkward effort at small talk.

He waited until most of the other students had escaped the room. Then, summoning up all his courage, he finally leaned forward over his desk and said, "Hey, that test was pretty brutal, huh?"

Sonny barely looked up from packing up his stuff. "Hmn."

Not exactly the stuff great epics were made of.

Brian wasn't thoroughly discouraged, though, because he thought he would have more time to get it right.

He didn't.

One of these days, he was going to sit down and diagram out his life so he could figure out how he'd managed to let himself be so spectacularly friend-zoned.

And then, right after that, he was going to determine how someone could be dumb enough to agree to be confined in a humid room heated to 105 degrees with a dozen other sweaty bodies and Sonny Kiriakis.

Sonny grinned at him under his arm as he arched his back up into downward dog position, his hands splayed on the mat in front of him, until his body formed a Sonny arch.

Brian's head was swimming from the heat, and he couldn't decide if the sensation of sweating out his hangover in a sauna while being forced into contortions his body had never known before was exhilarating or if he was about to pass out.

"If I drop dead, then it will be your fault," he muttered.

Sonny bit back his smile. Sonny, who moved through the poses with a flexibility akin to Gumby.

If he was staring, then Brian could always blame the dehydration. Sweat gleamed on Sonny's taut arms, and his tank top, soaked through, clung to his chest.

Unbidden came the thought of running his hands up over the arch of Sonny's spine, of pressing his pounding heart against Sonny's back and letting him hear Brian's soft pants against his ear.

Despite the humid conditions, Brian's mouth watered.

"I knew you'd like hot yoga," Sonny said to him once the instructor was busy adjusting someone on the other side of the room.

Brian snorted. He did not like hot yoga. But Sonny did. And (God help him) he liked Sonny. For no one else would he do this.

"Don't pretend this was for my benefit," he grumped. "I'm only here because Will was too smart to do this with you." Will was clearly the more intelligent between them.

How did he end up as the guy Sonny called when Will wasn't available?

Sonny gave him the same cautious look he always did whenever Brian broke their unspoken agreement and brought up Will, which he often did. Much as he might wish otherwise, Will was always there between them. If it was Sonny's wish for Brian to respect the boundaries between them, then it made little sense for them to pretend Will, the reason for them, didn't exist.

"I only asked you," Sonny said, no longer meeting his gaze. Before Brian's breath could catch, Sonny added, "Yoga isn't really Will's thing."

Smiling grimly, Brian joined Sonny in downward dog pose and let the sweat slide down his face and into his eyes.

As it turned out, the year the Kiriakis brothers attended Salem High was just a flash in the pan.

After the school year finished, Sonny's family abruptly picked up and moved to Dubai. One day there, the next day gone. They left a big Kiriakis-shaped hole in their wake.

Brian spent the summer before his sophomore year depressed as only a teenager could be. Sonny was gone, and all Brian had left of him were the remnants of a one-sided obsession.

Time went on of course.

Eventually, he moved on, too, to other boys and other obsessions, and he forgot about Sonny.

That is, until four years later when Will Horton introduced him to a very familiar boy who still managed to look right through him even when Brian finally had the nerve to speak to him.

Brian watched Sonny down his wheatgrass smoothie with a shameless enthusiasm which suggested that he really, really deserved it.

After 90 minutes of Bikram yoga, he probably did.

Brian had to marvel at this bizarre person sitting across from him. Between the health food, the yoga, the charity work, the "safe zone" business, and his love-can-save-the-world outlook, Sonny was probably the most granola person he had ever known. Brian figured that it was really only a matter of time before Sonny made that final leap into raw Vegan territory and started wearing only organic hemp t-shirts while spouting off about the evils of corporate culture.

The mental image of Hippie-Sonny lightened his mood, and he smiled into his own Mocha latte.

Luckily for everyone, a lifetime of privilege and good breeding prevailed, and Sonny was too diplomatic to ever outwardly judge someone else's views (convenient since he came from generations of Grade-A Corporate America).

He also dressed like he wandered out of a J. Crew catalog rather than out of a thrift store on Haight-Ashbury.

Then again, Brian was pretty sure he remembered Sonny mentioning having lived in an African shack for a year while he trained to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. Sonny refused to offer picture evidence, but supposedly there had been a burly beard and probably tons of whatever the African equivalent was to yak butter tea.

Much to Brian's endless frustration and fascination, Sonny made no sense.

Sonny chose that moment to playfully nudge his arm. "Why are you smiling like that?" he asked. "Are you thinking about that guy from last night?"

Brian's smile vanished.

While Sonny had been globe-trotting and scaling epic mountains, Brian had been there, in Salem, working his ass off to graduate first in his class so he would have his pick of medical schools in two years. He was supposed to be studying that morning instead of trailing after enigmas.

He had better things to do than play games.

"No," he said coldly. "Not at all."

"Uh-oh. Didn't go well?"

Was Sonny really going to play it that way?

"It went fine," Brian said cagily. "For what it was."

Apparently Sonny was going to play it that way, because he looked genuinely baffled when he echoed, "For what it was?"

Brian could feel himself rapidly losing patience. "Sex, Sonny. That's what it was. That's all it was."

Sonny suddenly found his empty cup fascinating. If that wasn't enough, then his blush belied his discomfort. "Oh."

Yeah. Oh.

For a guy who had spent the whole night sucking face with Will to a full audience, Sonny was displaying some surprisingly delicate sensibilities now.

"You didn't come back to the table, so we thought you guys hit it off. Or something."

"Or something," Brian said with a mean smile.

"Maybe if you called him…"

Suddenly, all of the negative feelings from the prior night were there, bubbling over, and Brian found himself seething. "Sonny, I don't want his number. I don't even want to remember his name. I certainly don't want a repeat performance. We're done."

Sonny was doing his best not to look disturbed by Brian's callous attitude. Brian didn't blame him. He was feeling kind of disturbed, too. But he wasn't going to marry the guy just so Sonny wouldn't have to feel guilty about being so happy in his own relationship.

"If you didn't like him, then why did you take him home with you? What was the point?"

Brian didn't bother trying to hide his resentment. "Why not?"

Sonny's eyes widened. Then, he frowned and looked away. He didn't do Brian the disservice of feigning ignorance. Brian didn't know how he felt about that.

"Will was just trying to help," he said quietly.

"Sure. Trying to help himself."

Sonny's sharp look told him that he had finally gone too far. "Don't."

Don't what? Don't insult precious William? Or don't force Sonny to deal with what he and everyone else clearly already knew?

Brian was suddenly so very, very over it. His anger made him feel reckless. He was overwhelmed with the desire to lash out so he wouldn't have to be the only one hurting anymore.

"Do you know why I took that guy home?" he asked, deceptively calm. "Why I slept with him?"

"Apparently not for love," Sonny said with a raised eyebrow. "That really only leaves that other thing…"

"No, seriously. Ask me why. I'll give you a hint: it's the same reason Will wanted me to leave with that guy. Tell him full marks for effort, by the way, but still no dice."

Sonny eyed him warily. "Brian…"

"Will knows why. You know. I know. So just say it."

"Brian," he said helplessly, "you could have anyone you wanted."

Anyone else, he meant.

"Yes, I can," he said. "And last night I did. Now, ask me why I picked him."

Sonny shook his head. "You're being an ass."

Brian forged heedlessly on. He was on such a horrible roll that it was almost an out-of-body experience. "Because he had dark hair. Like yours, Sonny. He was about your height. He drank coffee at my place, and you would not believe how he tasted, who I imagined he tasted like—"

"Stop it. I don't want to hear this."

Tough. As Radiohead would say, "This is what you get when you mess with love."

Brian had been listening to a lot of Radiohead lately.

"I made him beg, Sonny. Begged like I've imagined you—"

The loud and sudden sound of chair legs being pushed back stopped him mid-rant. He stared up at Sonny, who was now standing over him. Poor Sonny was pale as a sheet.

"I love Will."

Sonny's straightforward candor was the thing to finally deflate him. Brian closed his mouth and let the shame move in to replace the anger. He didn't even know what exactly he had been trying to provoke here.

Sonny must have read some of the misery on Brian's face, because he sighed and some of the tension visibly left his shoulders.

"We can't be friends if you're going to do this."

This. What was 'this?' What were they even doing?

Brian smiled sadly. "Why do you think we can be friends at all?"

Sonny's hurt expression made him feel worse, but he still said, "You can't always have everything you want." Who understood that better than him?

If Sonny really thought he could have both Will in his bed and Brian at his beck-and-call… then maybe Sonny was more selfish than he realized. Why should anyone be surprised that a lifetime of privilege had resulted in a subconscious sense of entitlement?

"I don't know what you want me to say," Sonny said.

Brian stood so they were both eye-level.

"Then maybe there's nothing to say."

He turned his back on Sonny and left without another word.

After so long, their reunion left much to be desired.

Ideally, Brian would not have provoked Sonny into a defensive position on their (not) first meeting.

But Brian's brain had gone off the rails at seeing Sonny again— Sonny, who clearly did not remember him— and he had been genuinely upset with Will at the time. Will, who had the nerve to be ashamed of associating with him after all the nights of Brian figuratively hand-holding Neil's potential hookup through his first tentative steps into gay culture.

Once Brian's eyes landed on Sonny, Will's issues had pretty much instantly ceased to be the point.

It had taken all of five seconds for Brian to realize that their reunion came about a year too late.

Because a year prior, Sonny Kiriakis had met Will Horton.

And Brian had lost the game before he even knew he was playing. Lost it to an admittedly beautiful blonde with a heartbreaking smile, but that hardly made him feel any better about it.

Much to his chagrin, Sonny had wasted no time in shutting him down, even when his prospects with Will had looked dim. No charitable ambiguity about it. For Sonny, it was Will or bust.

The thing about Sonny that was (again) so charming and frustrating at the same time was that if he could help it, he left no man behind.

So, despite outright rejecting him, Sonny had still somehow managed to collect Brian into his fold, as if he were some stray at the pound that Sonny couldn't bear to leave behind even if the only place he had for him was in the backyard while the favored pet got to live inside the house.

Simply put: Sonny had invaded his life.

Not even high-school past-tense so much as in the very, very present-tense.

When Sonny had first started hanging out with him and inviting him places, Brian apparently had something very different in mind than Sonny did.

At first, he put up with the "friend dates" because he thought they were just precursors to something more. He thought he was making progress.

What a laugh.

Brian should have known better than to let this happen.

He was never this guy before.

No one wanted to be this guy.

The sad thing was… Well, the really sad thing was that somewhere along the way Sonny had kind of become his best friend.

When something cool or awful happened, Sonny was the first person he wanted to tell. He wanted to forward him funny memes other people sent him. Over the course of a week, Brian had taken out his phone at least three times to text him only to remember that they weren't speaking.

On his dorm wall was a cool vintage print of a Popular Science magazine cover from 1927 that Sonny had found at some flea market and bought because he thought of him. Brian's bookshelves now housed the likes of Keats, Forster, and Mann because Sonny thought that, between Organic Chemistry and Calculus II, he needed an "emotional supplement."

There were playlists he had meant to share with Sonny and movies Brian wanted to expose him to and…

After his mother had asked after Sonny during their last phone call, Brian finally realized how screwed he really was. Without meaning to, Sonny had left traces of himself all over Brian. Invisible fingerprints. Ownership by someone who had no desire to own.

How the hell did he get here?

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Sonny couldn't see him since his head was under the sink, but Brian rolled his eyes. "Sonny, my grandfather was a plumber. I know what I'm doing. Now, hand me that wrench."

Sonny sounded skeptical, but he handed over the wrench. "So, you're like a plumber twice removed?"

"No, but I knew how to fix a leaky pipe before I learned how to ride a bike."

"I never would have guessed that about you."

"I am a fascinating, multi-faceted individual. Take note."

Once the leak was fixed and Brian had saved Sonny the cost and hassle of calling an actual plumber, Brian pushed himself out from under the sink. He tugged his tank top up to wipe the sweat from his face.

He thought he felt Sonny's eyes on him, but when he lowered his shirt, Sonny had already looked away, his cheeks red. "Um."

Something hot and hungry flared to life in his chest. Brian let his fingers brush against Sonny's when he handed Brian a cool glass of what looked like iced tea. Sonny didn't let on that it affected him, but he took a full step back once the glass was safely in Brian's hand.

"I am but a humble merchant and can only pay you in beverages. I hope that's okay."

"Only because I have a fondness for lowly merchants."

Sonny gave him a look. "I said 'humble,' not 'lowly.'"

"Apologies." He pulled off the wet tank top before retrieving his pristine button-up from where it was laid over the counter and safely away from the water.

Brian noted with amusement that Sonny purposely turned away entirely while he was shirtless.

They both looked over when the bell over the door tinkled and Sonny's mother walked in. Her face lit up when she saw Brian.

"Hello, Brian! How are you?"

"I'm great, Mrs. Kiriakis. Thanks for asking."

Her smile was sunshine itself. "Wonderful."

Brian loved Sonny's mom. And not just because she was clearly on Team Brian (though it didn't hurt).

Like everyone else in Salem, Brian had some preconceived notions about the Kiriakis family. Just as he did about the Bradys, the Hortons, and the Dimeras. It was kind of hard not to.

Sonny was a Kiriakis, and that meant a whole slew of baggage. Baggage of the Greek-American mafia variety. Though, Sonny assured him that the mafia stuff was mostly exaggerated and that his Uncle Victor was a legitimate, self-made man. Brian had his doubts about that, but he wasn't about to voice them to Sonny.

If Sonny challenged his assumptions about his family, then Justin and Adrienne obliterated them completely. Sonny made a lot more sense once Brian met his parents, who seemed about as marvelous as parents could get. Brian's working-class dad would have called them "Waspy," but Brian just thought they were glamorous.

Still, Brian was grateful to come from normal, salt of the earth, non-infamous family stock. No one in his family had ever taken a hit out on anyone, and that was something.

"Honey, your father wanted me to remind you to pick up the buffalo wings on your way home. The game is on tonight."

"Don't worry," Sonny told her. "The wings will be there."

"Game?" Brian asked, inserting himself into the conversation.

"The Cowboys are playing tonight on ESPN," Sonny explained.

"Do you like football, Brian?" Adrienne asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh! Sonny, Brian likes football. Isn't that great?" Her hope was so obvious that it made him love her even more.

"It's great, Mom," Sonny said patiently.

"You should come over and watch the game with us. Sonny's uncle Victor has a big screen TV ideal for watching football. "

Ideal. Oh, so posh. Brian loved it.

"Mom…"

"I would love to," Brian said quickly before Sonny could get him out of it.

"Great! I can show you pictures of Sonny when he was in peewee football back in Texas."

Brian grinned. "Oh, yes, please."

Sonny frowned. "That is not happening."

"We'll see," Adrienne said with a conspiratorial wink at Brian.

"We'll see," Brian repeated for Sonny's benefit.

Sonny groaned. "This is unholy." Brian pretended not to see Sonny glance between them with a resigned look on his face.

"Well, I have to be going," Adrienne said, hoisting her purse strap back over her shoulder. "Honey, don't forget—"

"The wings, I know."

"Thanks, love. I'll see you later, okay?"

Sonny obligingly leaned over the counter so his mother could kiss his cheek. "Bye, Mom."

"We'll see you tonight, Brian?"

"Absolutely."

"Great. See you then."

Brian watched Adrienne leave. "I'm running away with your mother," he said. "Just so you know."

It was Sonny's turn to roll his eyes. "Just have her back by dinner and I won't tell my dad."

"No promises. Hey, I didn't know you were a football fan." It was just one more contradiction to add to the pile.

"I grew up in Texas. Being a football fan is kind of required. Texas A&E for college bowl and the Cowboys for the pros."

"Uh-oh, Sonny. You're not in Texas anymore. You're either for the Giants or the Jets around here. Awesome people belong to the Jets."

Sonny made a face. "No one belongs to the Jets, especially not this year."

Brian clutched his heart in pretend pain. "Ouch. Come on. Everyone loves an underdog. "

"You're not an underdog just because you have a bad season."

Brian shook his head mournfully. "I don't know what's worse. That you don't appreciate the Jets or that you support the Cowboys."

"Them's fightin' words where I come from," he said, though there was an amused twinkle in his eye.

"Was that a Texan twang I just heard in your voice? Sonny, have you been holding out on me?"

Sonny laughed. "No. And shut up."

Brian edged closer and gave Sonny a lazy grin. "Oh, well. No one's perfect. Not even you apparently."

He knew he had pushed too far when Sonny quickly ducked around him and started scrubbing at an invisible spot on the counter with his rag. He didn't look back at Brian when he said, "You know you don't have to come over if you don't want to, if you were just being polite to my mom."

Brian inwardly sighed, though he kept his tone light. "And miss out on seeing the inside of the Kiriakis mansion? No way. Unless you don't want me to come?"

Sonny hesitated, clearly weighing the pros and cons. Brian had the sense that Sonny had him on some kind of probation while he made his mind up about him. That was okay with him. Brian wasn't called persistent for nothing. He was a boy who knew what he wanted, and he could be patient.

Usually.

Ultimately, that rumored Texan politeness won out, and Sonny said, "No, it's fine. It's just that… Well, my dad gets kind of passionate. Don't take it personal if he bites your head off when he finds out you support a dumb team."

"Oh, that's it. I'm definitely coming now. In a Jets jersey."

Sonny grinned. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Someone should have warned him.

Technically, Neil had warned him that Will was a handsy drunk, but he had yet to witness it for himself. The handful of times he had spent time with Will in a bar, Will had been all kinds of uncomfortable, as if he expected to be busted any moment just for being there. He never nursed more than a light beer, probably preferring to keep his wits about him.

That wasn't so much the case now.

Will looked entirely comfortable on his perch on Sonny's lap. He had his hands in Sonny's hair and his tongue in Sonny's mouth.

Brian didn't avert his gaze from the spectacle in front of him even when Neil leaned over to whisper in his ear, "This is the most masochistic thing I've ever seen you do."

Brian clinked his beer against Neil's and then took a long drag. "Yup."

Will and Sonny had clearly forgotten they were even there.

This was partly Brian's own fault. Sonny had wanted a boring, old iced tea, but Brian ordered it spiked. Sonny winced at the give-away taste, and then rolled his eyes when Brian winked at him over the rim of his beer. But he kept the spiked drink.

Now, the lightweight was clearly tipsy because sober Sonny had at least remembered to be gracious about pawing his boyfriend in front of Brian.

Will abruptly seemed to remember that they had been having a conversation at some point about his Christmas with the Kiriakis. "What was that yummy dessert thing…?" he asked Sonny between kisses. "With the— um— sesame seeds?"

"Baklava," Sonny said, already pulling him back down for another kiss.

"Right. Baklava. Greek Christmas is awesome."

Brian and Neil shared a commiserating glance. Greek Christmas with the Kiriakis family probably was awesome. Brian would just have to take Will's word for it, but he could imagine that lavish house decorated to gorgeous excess, Adrienne dressed in diamonds and red satin, and the whole family gathered together in front of the fireplace while their butler served them eggnog in crystal flutes. Sonny would probably tell him that it had been considerably less glamorous, with everyone in pajamas instead of satin, but that was precisely why Brian hadn't asked. He liked his version better.

They eventually had to come up for air. Will left Sonny's mouth with obvious reluctance. "Wait, hold on." Will awkwardly lumbered off of Sonny's lap, avoiding Sonny's attempts to draw him back. He wobbled for a moment before righting himself, probably drunker on Sonny than on alcohol. "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Hurry back," Neil said, "or we might have to get Sonny a drink that my grandmother wouldn't laugh at."

"This is strong," Sonny argued.

Neil laughed when Brian mouthed, "No, it isn't."

"Good luck with that," Will said good-naturedly. They watched him disappear into the crowd of bodies.

"Things seem to be going well with you two," Neil said once he was gone.

Sonny looked embarrassed now that Will wasn't busy distracting him from it, but he was still smiling, all flushed and pleased. "Yeah. They are."

"Good for you," Neil said, and Brian fully believed his sincerity. Neil had never gone so far as to admit to having feelings-with-a-capital-F for Will, but one didn't just burst into a room full of Salem cops, all white-knight style, to provide someone with a big, gay alibi if they didn't. Still, Neil was a nice guy. Nicer than Brian anyway.

The lights above the dance floor switched to a rainbow of disco ball colors just as the opening notes of the Dexy Midnight Runner's "Come On, Eileen" began.

"Oh, no. Did we come on '80s night?" Neil bemoaned at the same time that Sonny's face lit up like a Christmas tree at the recognizable sound of Celtic fiddle over drums. "Guys, this is my jam."

"Cheesy, iconic '80s pop? God, it would be," said Brian, shaking his head.

Neil looked at him. "Did he just say that this was his 'jam'?"

Sonny leaned over the seats to pull at Brian's arm. "Dance with me."

"To this?"

"Absolutely to this!"

Brian threw a desperate look in the direction of the Men's Room. "Why don't you wait for Will?"

"The song could be over by the then!"

Neil was already laughing. "Too-ra-loo-ra, guys."

Brian glared at Neil over his shoulder, but he still followed Sonny out onto the dance floor. He had never seen Sonny dance before, but it soon proved something of a revelation.

"Come on, Eileen. Oh, I swear what he means. At this moment you mean everything…"

Brian could only handle watching so many spastic "moves," before he stepped in and grabbed Sonny's flailing hand from the air. Sonny gave in and let Brian twirl him around rather than allowing him to harm any innocent bystanders.

"You in that dress. My thoughts, I confess, verge on dirty. Oh, come on, Eileen…"

After a couple of turns, Brian tugged him closer, and Sonny let his hands fall on Brian's shoulders with a helpless laugh.

"Aw, my dancing isn't that bad."

"You've seen worse?"

When the music finally changed to something decidedly less peppy than "Eileen," Sonny thankfully stopped trying to make him frantically sway back and forth to keep up with the upbeat pace.

"I'm so tragically unappreciated here," Sonny said with a dramatic sigh. "They got me in Africa. No one criticized my dancing in Africa."

"Give me ten international minutes, and I'll prove that to be an absolute lie."

Sonny didn't bother denying it. Hs smile looked wide enough to hurt. The answering ache in his chest was so familiar by then that Brian barely registered it.

Deciding to push his luck, he wrapped his arms around Sonny's waist and gave another playful tug. Sonny adjusted affably, linking his arms around Brian's neck.

Seeing him up close, Brian realized that Sonny wasn't so much drunk as just really, really happy. He had his guard down for once. It was… nice. Even if it was because of Will.

Sonny's smile slowly wilted as he searched Brian's face. "What's wrong, Brian?" he asked.

Without really thinking about it, he reached up and smoothed down some of Sonny's hair that had been mussed by Will's eager hands. He let his fingers trail down over Sonny's flushed cheek. They were so close. If he only leaned forward a little…

Sonny visibly swallowed. He put a hand on Brian's chest in a way that could have been either resistant or encouraging. Either way, they weren't just dancing anymore. Or maybe this was just a natural extension of the dance they had been doing for months now.

"Brian," he said softly.

Brian smiled sadly. "You really don't remember me from high school?"

Sonny stared at him. He looked like he was going to say something, but before he could answer, Will was there, and Brian instantly ceased to be.

"There was hardly even a line," Will said, already putting a hand on Sonny's waist before he had even been extracted from Brian's hold.

Sonny extracted himself. Already feeling bereft, Brian let him go. Will easily folded into the space where Brian had just been, and Sonny took him with a happy sigh.

He was about to make an undignified escape when Will said, "Brian, there's a guy over there checking you out."

He barely spared a glance at his supposed admirer. "Hmn."

"You should ask him to dance," Sonny said. Brian held his stare until Sonny cracked and looked away.

"Why not?" Will asked.

Brian's smile felt tight and unconvincing on his face. "You know what? I think I will."

"You look like someone kicked your puppy," Neil observed.

They were sitting on a beat-up old couch in the Student Union, and Brian was doing his best to be miserable company. It wasn't that hard.

Neil raised an eyebrow at him. "Is this more Sonny angst?"

Was there any other kind?

He looked away, and Neil groaned. "Look at you. You're moping. My dear friend Brian is moping. I don't even know who you are anymore. Whatever happened to the heart-breaker with the heart made of stone?"

Brian rolled his eyes at the exaggeration, but he said, "He lost his mind. And you're one to talk."

"Oh, no, no. I like Will. I do. And if he ever wants to get drunk again and make a very sexy mistake, then I'm game." He paused. "But I'm not holding my breath. You shouldn't either."

"Yeah, thanks a lot," he muttered, sinking lower into the couch. He felt as if there were no limits to how low he could sink. Neil wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know.

"Brian?"

Neil's serious tone caught his attention. "What?"

His friend's sympathetic expression made him feel all kinds of worse. But not as bad as the actual words did.

"As bad as you have it for Sonny, he has it just as bad for Will. He isn't giving him up, Brian. No matter how much he leads you on. So, don't you think it's time you walked away from this?"

Brian's automatic impulse was to defend Sonny, but for once the words didn't come.

Was it time?

He was so tired of feeling lost and pathetic all the time. When was the last time he let someone make him feel this way?

High school, he thought. Same person, different time. He couldn't blame Sonny, not really, because he didn't have a duplicitous bone in his body. He would never believe Sonny capable of intentionally leading him on— that wasn't who Sonny was— but he was capable of being selfish just like the rest of them.

Neil snorted. "You're not even listening to me."

Oh, he was listening all right. But…

He remembered the look on Sonny's face when they were dancing. He remembered how it felt to hold him in his arms. Recalling the memory was like feeling hot and cold at the same time.

But.

When Will offered to buy him a coffee, Brian couldn't bring himself to say no.

Mainly because Will had his hand on his shoulder in that really determined way of his that told Brian that saying no wasn't an option.

If Brian weren't already wary of this conversation, then the fact that Will took him to the Brady Pub instead of to his boyfriend's conveniently owned coffee house would have made him so.

It occurred to him that he and Will had never actually hung out one-on-one before. He had initially met Will through Neil. If it wasn't him, then Sonny at least had always been present. So, this was first for them.

Once they were seated, Brian shot for polite and asked, "So, how have you been, Will?"

"What?" Will finally took his eyes off of the waitress and the tall, skinny guy she was talking to behind the bar. He had seemed distracted since they arrived. "Oh, good. Well, great actually."

"Yeah?"

"Sonny and I are moving in together."

Oh.

Oh.

Will gave him a contrite smile. "Sorry, was I not supposed to say?"

"Congratulations," he heard himself say.

"Thank you."

Later, he would have his private meltdown, but for now Brian knew he could coast through the rest of this conversation. His voice came out hollow-sounding. "You guys must be really excited."

"Yeah. I mean, it's probably a bigger deal for me then it is for Sonny, but yeah."

"It would be a big deal for anyone."

"Yeah, I guess it would."

They kind of lapsed into silence after that, with Brian taking a long sip of his coffee to cover his brooding, and Will going back to staring at the waitress. Brian didn't know what that was about, but it was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

They were moving in together. Will and Sonny. Together. In an apartment or a house or a mini mansion for all Brian knew.

After a while, Will tapped his arm. "Um, Brian?"

"What?"

"I heard you and Sonny had a fight."

Brian steeled himself inwardly and out, straightening in his chair in preparation for a legitimate confrontation. "Did Sonny tell you what it was about?" he asked, curious.

"No. But he came home all upset. Well, the Sonny version of upset. Which looks like it's a lot less upset than most people but still upset for him. You know?"

He did. "What about it?"

Will started fidgeting with the cutlery. "He didn't say, but I think I know what it was about."

"Do you?"

Will was smiling, but it was the sad, self-deprecating kind of smiling that happened when you didn't know what else to do with your face. "You don't think I'm good enough for him."

Brian couldn't help but think about how young and nervous Will had seemed to him when they first met. There was something about him that made you want to take care of him. "It's not about being good enough, Will."

"It's not?"

"No. It's just…" How to put it gently? "Look, there are two kinds of romantic partners: the kind that you date and the kind that you marry. I think Sonny is the kind you marry, and that you've got years of dating ahead of you before you're ready for him."

Will stared at him with wide eyes. "Are you saying that you want to marry Sonny?"

Brian groaned into his hands. "No, Will. That's not… No. That's not what I meant. You're missing the point."

"I don't think so," Will said under his breath.

"I just meant that you're in totally different places."

And yet they were still going to move in together.

"But you and Sonny are in the same place?"

It was a loaded question. A volley capable of opening a whole can of worms. Brian surprised both himself and Will when he said, "Yes."

A silent beat passed, and then he added, "Will, it's… it's not personal, okay?"

"Okay, but it is. We're in love with the same person. That's personal."

It was as if Will had just reached an icy hand into his chest and squeezed. Brian leaned back in his chair as if to put more physical distance between them. "I never said I was… that I was…"

Will gave him an incredulous look. "You are. I mean, if you're not, then what are we even talking about?"

"I don't know," he said, feeling helpless. "I don't know what we're talking about. We probably shouldn't even be talking at all."

Will shrugged. He was doing a valiant job of pretending that this conversation wasn't freaking him out when it clearly was. "Might as well. I like the idea that we could be honest with each other. You know, about this. Since we're both gonna be in the picture."

Brian stared at him. "That's weird, Will."

"Is it? Sorry, this is my first gay love triangle. I'm still learning."

Brian swallowed down the lump in his throat. "You're doing just fine, kid."

"Thanks."

As he made his way over to Common Grounds, Brian told himself this wasn't about crawling back with his tail between his legs.

Everyone was talking about it.

Will had knocked up his waitress.

At that point, it felt petty to stay away. At least, that's what Brian told himself.

Sonny didn't even look up when Brian entered his shop. "We're closed."

"Then you forgot to lock the door."

Sonny shrugged, clearly unconcerned. He was staring at something small and cupped in his hands.

Brian hovered awkwardly over him. Unsure of what else to do with himself, he stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited for Sonny to say something.

"You heard."

It wasn't a question, so Brian didn't bother confirming. "Are you okay?" he asked instead.

Sonny's smile was as empty as his eyes. "Of course I'm okay. I'm always okay, aren't I?"

"What happened?" he asked gently.

"Will is having a baby with his ex-girlfriend. Because she's pregnant. With his baby."

Brian had been expecting Sonny to be upset, but he wasn't sure how to handle controlled, subdued anger. "Is it true that you found out at the wedding?" There were several rumors floating around about what went down, but that was one Brian truly hoped wasn't true.

Sonny's lips formed a tight line. "Standing in that church… Will's dad asked if I knew. Because it would make sense that Will would fill me in on something big like that, right? I didn't know what to say. I had no idea."

Brian sighed and pulled one of the stools around so he could sit across from Sonny. He'd be lying if he said that his mind hadn't initially raced at the possibilities this scandal brought him. He was human. But seeing Sonny feeling so miserable put all thoughts of opportunism from his mind.

"What do you have there?" he asked, indicating toward his hand.

Sonny held up a small gold key. "What's left of the future I almost had."

"What, did you buy a house or something? Or is that Will's key to your place?"

"Not anymore. He dropped it off."

Damn. That sounded official. So, why didn't he feel happy or relieved?

He took a stab at levity. "Well, the whole thing sounds like it would make for an awesome Lifetime movie."

"'Nineteen and Knocked Up by a Gay Dude,'" Sonny said, unsmiling. "It could become a classic right up there with Tori Spelling's 'Mother, May I Sleep with Danger?'"

"Hey, that's funny. Sonny? Are you…?"

The look on Sonny's face… Christ, the look on his face as the angry mask peeled away and Sonny's face just kind of crumbled. "Brian, he lied to me. Over and over again. You warned me. Everyone did. God, Brian, you must think I'm so stupid." He buried his face in his hands. "I am so embarrassed."

Brian didn't even have to think about it before he was up and pulling Sonny off the stool and into a fierce hug. Sonny fought him at first, but it must have required too much work because, after a moment, he just sagged against Brian, letting him support them both.

Brian expected tears, but Sonny didn't cry, not really. Brian felt his harsh breaths against his ear as Sonny struggled to get himself back under control, back behind the wall he usually kept between them.

Brian tightened his hold on him. "I don't think you're stupid, Sonny," he said. "No one does."

"Will does," he said miserably into Brian's shoulder. "And he's right. All these months, and I had no idea. Gabby must have been laughing at me while I was making plans."

"You're not stupid," Brian said angrily, "and you have no reason to feel embarrassed. That's not yours to carry." Will was the one who had the whole world all to himself and chose to throw it away. He should be embarrassed. "I wouldn't lie to you, okay?"

Sonny pulled back just far enough so he could look Brian in the eye. His hands clutched the back of Brian's shirt. They were so close that there was nowhere else to look besides directly into each other's eyes. Brian didn't mind. There was nowhere else he would rather be caught than in Sonny's eyes.

Unable to resist, Brian tucked a strand of hair behind Sonny's ear and let his hand linger there, fingers curling into dark hair. He waited for Sonny to pull away, to dodge him as he always did whenever Brian got too close.

He didn't.

The room had gone quiet around them. Even the dust that floated through the sunbeams cast through the window had gone still. There was something sacred about it, and Brian held his tongue rather than disturb the silence.

His breath caught when Sonny lightly touched his face. Suddenly, they were back on that dance floor, under the lights, the only people there because everyone else had faded away. Except that this time Sonny was the one touching him, and he was the one left staring, wide-eyed, his skin tingling at the contact.

Sonny's eyes were bright but still dry. "I lied to you," he said quietly.

Throat tight with suppressed emotion, his voice came out hoarse. "Really? How exciting."

"Brian…"

"What about?" He couldn't even begin to imagine what Sonny could have lied about that he would ever care about. Sonny could have told him that the sun had gone out and that the world was ending, and he still wouldn't have been tempted from that spot.

"I do remember you from high school."

Brian blinked. Once. Twice.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't comfortable with myself. I didn't want to be gay. I could go whole days pretending to be somebody else back then because I wanted it so bad. But then you… the way you always looked at me… like you're looking at me now. Like you want to—"

Brian kissed him. He couldn't help it.

His moan was so pathetically grateful when Sonny kissed him back. It was five years of want and need and love. Sonny hooked his arm around Brian's neck, locking them together (as if Brian would ever be the one to pull away). Brian finally got to touch the spot where Sonny's dark hair met his pale skin when he cupped the back of Sonny's neck. He traced the place where he knew there were two freckles.

God, it was time-travel, it was now, one moment transcending… He felt loyalty to nothing but this wonderful, perfect feeling.

Brian clutched Sonny to him and turned them so that Sonny's back was against the counter. He pressed in, wanting to be touching everywhere they could be touching. He kissed him over and over. Sonny's hands clutched at his back.

His self-control was so shot that he thought for a split second that he would actually make love to Sonny right there on the counter with the door unlocked and any potential visitors could just be damned. He leaned down so he could pull Sonny's leg up, tucking their bodies together like two jigsaw pieces. Sonny moaned, low, from deep within his chest at the same time he did, just as he was sucking Sonny's tongue into his mouth.

Then, Sonny made a strangled sound and pushed at his chest. He had to push again because Brian's attention was decidedly elsewhere. It took another moment for Sonny's words to penetrate the lust that had taken over his brain.

"I can't."

Brian stared at him, his breaths coming out in heavy pants. Slowly, he let Sonny's leg fall out of his hold. Then, they weren't touching anymore, and it was the loneliest feeling in the world. "Why?" he asked.

Brian imagined that he could actually hear the sound of his own heart breaking when Sonny, with tears in his eyes, said, "I still love him."

He still loved Will. Will, who was too young and had knocked up a girl and lied and lied and lied, and yet he still somehow came out the victor between them. If this were anyone else's twisted love story, then Brian would have pitied the hell out of them.

Sonny's gaze pleaded for understanding. "I don't know how to stop."

That was a sentiment he could empathize with. Brian squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on breathing out the frustration so he wouldn't become it. His hands clenched at his sides. "I know," he said. "I know." Because he did. He really, really did. But damn did it hurt.

"I'm so sorry, Brian."

Looking at Sonny now was akin to looking at the saddest puppy in the world. On top of everything else, Brian couldn't bear it. He pulled Sonny back into his arms and held him.

"It's okay, Sonny," he whispered into his hair, "because I love you."

Love was a bitch.

"We'll figure it out," he said.

He meant everything of course. Him, Sonny, Will. They would find their respective ways eventually. Will would find a balance between what he had and what he wanted. Sonny would either reconcile his hurt so he could still be with Will or he would find the resolve to walk away. It probably wouldn't be that clean and simple, but some things were inevitable.

For his part, Brian had waited five years to kiss Sonny Kiriakis. And despite the horrible grip currently on his heart, it was still worth it because he now knew that he would wait another five to do it again. He would wait forever if he had to. He would wait for Sonny…

… because he was worth it.

Finis.

Notes:

1. Brian's line about the marrying vs. dating kind is paraphrased from a line that always stuck with me from the Felicity episode "Sophomoric."

2. There's a popular theory that Days's Salem is in New York, so I gave Brian a New York football team. No offense meant to any actual Jets fans! It was all for the sake of banter.

3. The Dexy Midnight Runners's "Come On, Eileen" is the best song in the world. Brian is dumb not to appreciate it. Also, I can't remember the specific air date, but Will once commented on Sonny's horrible dancing during the early days of their friendship, so that's canon!

4. The fic title is a hybrid born of Alanis Morissette's song "Uninvited" and the Decemberists's "the Wanting Comes in Waves."