When Julian came in from a long day at the office, the last thing he expected to hear from the living room was a female voice. Not that he and Emmett didn't ever talk to women - he supposed that, technically, they were both actually bisexual. Just not practicing bisexuals.

A high, tinkling laugh and an, "Oh, Emmett!" drifted out to the foyer, and Julian had to resist the urge to throw his briefcase. Okay, so he was a little tired, and sick of the cane he still had to use after the reconstruction of his ACL five weeks earlier, and he'd worked a twelve-hour day - these things were not usually enough to make him want to throw things. He carefully placed the case onto the floor and closed the door, then took a deep breath, trying to will himself to not be violently annoyed.

"Julian, that you?" Emmett called.

"Nope," he forced himself to sound light, teasing. "It's a burglar. Where do you keep the good stuff?"

He relaxed slightly when Emmett came bounding out of the living room and kissed him on the mouth.

"Hey," Emmett whispered into his ear, one hand seeking and finding the spot on the back of his neck that made him melt. "Horrible ex-girlfriend, surprise visit, I swear it's not my fault."

"You're a dead man," Julian said, smiling with gritted teeth.

"Totally not my fault," Emmett said out of the side of his mouth as he turned back the way he'd come.

Julian sucked in a breath and plastered a friendly smile on his face; the one he used on opposing counsel or basketball rivals.

And, yes - there was a woman on his couch. She was petite and blonde and blue-eyed, wearing khaki pants and a white tank top that showed off a golden tan (real) and perky breasts (fake).

"Julian, this is Monica Wells," Emmett said. "Monica, this is Julian Lodge."

Julian shook her hand. It was small and cold. "It's a pleasure to meet you Monica," he said mildly. From the look on her face, she had yet to put two and two together and get "my ex-boyfriend is gay now," not that anything about her made Julian suspect that math was her strong suit.

Julian turned to Emmett. "I'm going to go get changed, E. It's been a long day."

Emmett glanced down at his leg and grimaced. "You need ice?"

Julian sighed. He hated to admit it, but his knee was killing him, and he could feel the swelling against the tight straps of the brace hidden under his expensive suit pants. "Yeah, thanks." he said. "That would be good."

Julian resolutely didn't think about Monica - and oh, he'd recognized that name - while he changed. She was the one who'd been involved in the debacle that had nearly killed Betty. He was kind of shocked that Emmett had even let her into the apartment. It took most of Julian's concentration to get out of the suit and hang it in the closet. By the time he was comfortable in sweats and a tee shirt and the softer brace he wore at home, some of his annoyance had dissipated.

He started up the hall and was surprised when Emmett met him halfway with a pill and a glass of water.

"Trying to drug me into politeness?" he said.

"She's gone," Emmett said, moving closer to slide his free hand around Julian's waist and assist him to the couch, where an ice pack was already waiting on the coffee table. "She bought a clue right after you left and suddenly remembered a prior engagement."

"You get a lot of trans-continental booty calls, then? I thought she was in Hawaii." He quickly took the painkiller and reached for the ice pack.

Emmett brushed his hand aside and settled the ice under Julian's knee. "Did you seriously just use the phrase 'booty call,' counselor?" He grinned widely. "Wait! Are you jealous?"

"Shut up," Julian grumbled, starting to feel a little foolish. He reached for the remote, only to frown as it was easily snatched from his hand.

"You are! You're jealous!" Emmett looked entirely too pleased.

Julian wanted to laugh it off, but found that he couldn't. Damn it, he was jealous. He clenched his jaw and looked away, feeling a blush rise up his cheeks. When the room stayed silent for a long minute, he turned back to peek at Emmett, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

"What?" Julian said, looking back down, and he could hear how petulant he sounded.

"You really are...Julian." He paused. Julian didn't answer. "Julian," Emmett said again. "Look at me."

Julian raised his head to meet Emmett's eyes.

"Why on earth would you be jealous of her? You know I'm not interested in anything she's got."

"Not even the..." Julian made a gesture toward his own chest.

"No," Emmett said. "Not even the tits."

"They're fake," Julian grumbled.

"Yes, I know. She's not a natural blonde, either." Emmett petted his knee gently. "I never knew you had a jealous side."

Julian felt his anger flare, just as irrational as it had been when he first heard Monica's voice. "Well, maybe I've never loved anyone enough to be afraid of losing them before," he said hotly. And, god, he wanted to slap his hand over his stupid mouth. Damned Percoset. He settled for covering his eyes with his hand.

He felt Emmett's arm steal softly around his shoulders and allowed himself to be tilted down to settle against the familiar warmth of Emmett's broad chest. Strong fingers carded through his hair, tracing the patterns he loved against the back of his neck, and Julian let himself relax a little.

"You're not gonna lose me, Stick," Emmett said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," Julian said, his voice muffled into Emmett's shirt. "Okay." He lifted his head, reaching for Emmett's jaw with one hand to pull him into a kiss. He meant for it to be soft, but the touch of Emmett's lips set off a hot, twisting feeling in his belly. Julian straightened and kissed Emmett harder.

Emmett moaned into his mouth, and Julian deepened the kiss. He dropped his free hand to Emmett's leg and slid it up, not stopping until he could feel the soft swell of Emmett's cock against the back of his fingers. Julian pulled away from the kiss and nosed Emmett's head to the side so he could suck hard on the side of his neck, twisting to get the perfect angle.

"God, Julian," Emmett moaned. "Just you. You're all I want."

"Good," Julian said roughly, kissing Emmett again. This time, the kiss slowed down, gentled as Julian got a grip on his emotions. They kissed slowly and softly for a while, until Julian had to ease himself back with a groan, the pressure on his knee too much to bear. Emmett slumped comfortably next to him, their sides pressed tight together.

After a few minutes, Emmett leaned close to whisper into Julian's ear. "She can hold her breath for a really long time, though."

He yelped when Julian pinched him viciously on the thigh.