AT THE END by Ilo

When you're away, I'm feeling empty/ I lose my mind/ But when you're around, I take

for granted/ Most of our time

Honey you say that I'm cold/ And sometimes I'm out of control/ Baby, you know how I

am, at the end, you're always mine

Written by Markus Moser, Nadia Ali

•  Copyright © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Prologue

Brian

Why the fuck would he do that to me? Why? Did I really deserve that amount humiliation, especially in front of all of them? I could almost feel them laughing and pointing saying that I was warned and I finally got what I deserved... A broken heart.

And yet, I know that I pushed and pulled and prodded and that he was bound to rebel. It's not even that it's ‘just his way' as I had been led to believe over and over again. It was more than that. I could see it in his eyes as we stared at each other from across the vast dance floor of Babylon- a kingdom now divided because of a few reckless acts and this huge one bourne of selflessness and self-preservation. I can see out of the corner of my left eye, Michael dancing, rhythmically-challenged as usual; all the while rolling his eyes and with the ever-present scowl on his face.

I honestly wonder what he feels he has to gain from this public breakup of a heretofore unacknowledged relationship. I know that he has finally gotten his wish in so many ways, and yet I am powerless to stop it. He should have been happy and preoccupied enough with Ben to mind his own fucking business. Am I angry with him? Hell yes, I am!

Regardless of what he says verbally, his actions always tell a different story. Emmett and Ted are too engrossed with each other and are missing the silent, staring showdown in the middle of the dancefloor. I'm sure that Mikey won't be able to keep the details of it to himself, even before being asked about what actually happened. As always, he will give more of his opinions, stating them as facts and somehow one of the actual participants of this drama will once again, end up the villain in his extremely biased point of view. It's a surety that it won't be me.

As for Mel and Lindz, they are completely oblivious, as they should be. They are enjoying a rare Gus-free night. I'm also sure they will hear about it before anyone can order coffee in the morning- once again from someone who really knows NOTHING, but tends to think he knows everything. I really wonder if Ben makes him wear a fucking muzzle during sex. Perhaps I'll suggest that to him someday.

But right now... Now, I just have to get through this time- this moment -when my life feels like it is being snatched from me once again. Last time it was at the crack of a bat; this time, in the form of mixed feelings, and signals, and confirmations of nothingness. How could he not know this would happen eventually? How could I not know?

Everything is so fucked up! And this time, it doesn't seem like there is any way forward- or in our case, backwards- from this abyss of uncertainity we've just fallen head first into. 

Justin

The irony in all of this is that I felt the mistake I was about to make the minute I stepped out of the backroom. This is not a new rodeo, for either of us. Things happen, people change, and yet here we are once again, at an impasse. All roads are leading in different directions, no matter how much we don't want them to. I want what I want and he just- I don't know- wants something different?

But when will he learn that different doesn't always mean better? As I feel my heart breaking looking into his eyes from across the club, I know within myself that we have to get off this merry-go-round. It's killing both of us in different ways; killing the people we are growing to be in our own rights. But that doesn't stop the pain coursing through me right now, doesn't keep me from wishing that I could rewind time. It doesn't stop me from knowing that it's over- that we're over.

For something that should have never begun in the first place, I have to say that even with all the ups and downs, we've had an amazing run. My life has changed for knowing him, and behind the sadness and love, I can see that his has too, even if it's not for the better right now. Why the fuck am I doing this? Why am I throwing all of what we have away like it was yesterday's trash? I don't know.

Maybe we'll find a way back to each other or maybe not. I just want him to be happy. The hardest part of loving someone is freeing them. And this is fucking hard, so fucking HARD!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*ADLS

Brian and Justin separated that night, each wrapped up in his own thoughts. Things weren't perfect, but the decision was made in the quiet hours of the night before. Alone together in bed without outside interference, words, or even sex to distract him, and just being held within the strong arms he knew so well, Justin had made his decision to stay with Brian. It wasn't made out of obligation, but some deep-seeded hope that maybe he and Brian could redefine what they had; that they could transform the moments of silence and angst into what was once shared laughter or the talks about everything and nothing they had shared many times over the course of the past two years. He was convinced that Michael was wrong, that Brian was able to feel love and give it in return.

‘That's not Brian' was Michael's favorite mantra.

The thing that Justin still couldn't understand was why he had chosen to confide in the man. A man, who seemed to make it his life's mission during his and Brian's first year together to break them up. It wasn't as if Michael had changed all that much. He'd still made his snide comments about Justin, or meted out his unsolicited advice and innuendos in Brian's direction at every turn. But to Justin, at some of his most vulnerable points in reference to Brian, he'd chosen to go to the one person who seemed to be an expert on the action/reaction theory of Brian Kinney.

But why? What the fuck was wrong with him?! There were so many unanswered and unanswerable questions in this whole puzzle. He needed a break to get off the constant treadmill of uncertain thoughts and almost-impossible dreams, to think and try to make sense of all the jumbled wants and wishes. And then there was Ethan, saying all the things that Justin needed to hear from Brian; whispering words of love that he longed to hear from the man he knew inside and out.

Or at least he thought he did, until tonight.

Ethan was spouting some fucking drivel about Beethoven, but Justin's mind was still on what he'd seen in the backroom. Brian was fucking ‘Rage' on the night that was supposed to be theirs, on one of the most emotionally driven nights of Justin's life. His story was out there for the world to read and enjoy, while for Justin it was his constant nightmare in many ways. Yes, Michael was right to use it- the story was definitely compelling in its own right- but it was HIS. Michael didn't rewrite history... it was HIS STORY, Justin and Brian's history, and it didn't seem to matter to anyone but him.

The tears he felt prickling behind his eyes must have shown because the next thing he knew, Ethan was eating his mouth. Justin responded in kind because in that moment, Ethan was a warm willing person, willing to comfort him. And since his partner was off fucking, Justin decided to take what he could get at the moment. Ethan stopped, a look of triumph momentarily in his eyes as they shifted over Justin's left shoulder. Justin knew what had caught Ethan's attention even before he turned around.

His eyes locked with his lover as Brian took off the mask, hurt and sadness etched in the hazel orbs he knew so well. Justin wanted to run away screaming, to go to Brian and yell at him or to just go home and communicate with Brian the only way they both knew how. But none of those actions were possible. Justin's feet felt glued to the spot. But what made the ultimate decision for Justin was seeing Michael, rolling his eyes at him while Brian remained oblivious to the look of contempt on his best friend's face.

It was always that way with Michael, and Justin needed to get away from there before he did something they would all regret. So, lowering his eyes, he turned away from the man he loved, in favor of the one who said he loved him. It didn't matter that Justin's heart broke a little more with every step he took in the opposite direction; didn't matter that it shattered as he fucked Ethan faced-down into the mattress when they arrived at Ethan's hovel. Nothing mattered anymore, except the feeling of relieved numbness that overtook him as he came in the condom embedded in Ethan's ass, and released the last of the tears he could afford to cry over Brian Kinney. It was done and a new chapter of his story was being written, whether he liked it or not.  

In possibly the most selfless act Brian Kinney could have ever made, he disregarded Justin's decision to stay with him and be miserable. He sacrificed his own happiness to see the light shine in Justin's eyes again; for Justin to once again find the spark that made him Sunshine. Even then, Brian was hoping that maybe one day he would actually be there to witness it come back. It wasn't that he didn't believe in Justin, or that he thought Justin was staying out of obligation. He just knew that Justin wasn't at peace.

He needed to get away from it all, but where would he go? Justin's friends were his friends, and all appropriated by default and close proximity to Brian himself. He couldn't go back to Jennifer and not be mothered to death. Daphne was living in the dorms and concentrating on school. Besides, she had a new group of friends outside of Justin, so where would Sunshine fit into that?

The only one Brian would have reasonably trusted to understand Justin was Lindsay. But now she was out of the question for so many other reasons, primarily because of her part in introducing Justin to the chin rat. Yes, he held her and Michael to blame, but no more than himself. Brian was like that. He would often let them live in their delusions of being right because it boosted their self-esteem and made them feel good about themselves for being ‘right.'

But in this case, they were wrong. Dead wrong! This was not Justin's fault. Okay, some of it was, but Justin had a lot of fucking help from him, too. The non-communication was oppressive, even for him.

If they weren't fucking, they were fighting, with or without words. The monosyllabic questions about dinner, or Vanguard, or homework; the slammed cabinet doors or fridge; the ignorance of attention-seeking behaviors on both their parts, all the while avoiding the big pink elephant in the room is what tore Brian and Justin apart. Justin was the type that needed words to know his place in life. He didn't use to need them, but since the bashing, all of the insecurities that Justin had never had or had repressed came floating to the surface with a vengeance. There were times when Justin would stare at himself in the mirror for over half an hour, looking for what, Brian didn't know, but it was important.

He was probably wondering where the ‘Justin' he knew had gone, much like Brian did on a pretty regular basis when he looked at the young stranger who now inhabited his Sunshine's body. He engaged in the same type of introspection on some days, although he'd never admit it aloud to anyone. It usually happened after an altercation with his mother or Debbie. Justin's self-esteem was wrapped up in this misguided notion of perfection; Brian could relate to that somewhat, since it was how people- including his supposed best friends- defined him as well. Whereas Justin was born with it all- talent, looks, and money- Brian had cultivated it, had carved it out for himself from being dirt poor.

He could now understand how Justin would feel having those things which he valued in himself taken away and not given back through verbal validation. Brian worked excessively so that no one could take his hard-won reputation, both in business and in pleasure, away from him; so that regardless of being loved or hated, Brian would always be admired. Would that he had seen the comparison when his lover was still standing right in front of him, this whole episode wouldn't have happened. But it did, and now it was time to pick up the pieces and move on. 

Brian sped off in his jeep while hearing Michael whine his name incessantly. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone! Michael had gotten what he'd been trying to get all along- or so he thought. Justin was gone, and the last thing Brian needed to hear was another round of Michael's list of grievances against Justin. Just fucking once, he would like to live in his own delusion- the one where Justin would actually be waiting at the loft for him to get home so they could finally fucking talk, after they fucked the anger out of each other, of course.

But it was too late.

Justin had gone with the fiddler and Brian couldn't bring himself to enter that place where he and Justin had spent so many nights in a manner that no one knew about but them. Talking about everything and nothing, singing and dancing, curled up on the sofa watching some stupid brain cell-frying show that Justin loved, or an old movie of Brian's; that was who they were. It wasn't all sex. There was love and a kind of magic, too. And it was fucking gone; he'd seen to that.

Pulling into the parking lot of the William Penn hotel, Brian requested his usual suite hoping beyond hope that it was unreserved. After handing over his credit card information and requesting concierge service, Brian settled into the room with the lights off. The last time he had been in the room was just after he and Justin had started having sex again. There was a Jacuzzi in the bathroom that could fit six, which he and Justin made good use of. Grabbing the requisite bottle of Beam and stepping out onto the balcony, Brian wondered what Justin was doing- no need to think about ‘whom'.

Not for the first time that night, Brian wondered just what the fuck he was doing. Before he knew it, pain sliced through him at the thought that it was fucking over between him and Justin. Brian settled into one of the deck chairs, placing the bottle on the table as he tried to keep the stinging behind his eyes at bay. He was no longer used to being completely alone. Justin had taken those empty places inside of him and filled them with his sunshine smile, lithe body, sharp mind, and no bullshit approach to life.

Where had that all gone? Why wasn't he enough? All of Brian's own insecurities- the ones Justin wouldn't allow to touch him- came roaring back as if their long hiatus gave them the right to torment him. He had to find a way to stop the metaphorical bleeding even as he sat there, feeling like his life support had been cut off. He would get through this; he had to.

But how was the ultimate question.

Misty Blue

Oh, it's been such a long, long time/ Look like I get you off of my mind/ But I can't Just the thought of you/ Turns my whole world/ Misty blue

Oh honey, just the mention of your name/ Turns the flicker to a flame Listen to me good, baby/ I think of the things we used to do

And my whole world turns/ Misty blue

Oh baby, I should forget you/ Heaven knows I've tried Baby, when I say that I'm glad were through/ Deep in my heart I know I've lied, I've lied, I've lied

Oh honey, it's been such a long, long time/ Looks like I get you off of my mind But I can't/ Just the thought of you/ My love, my whole world turns

Misty blue

Written by Bob Montgomery

•  Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Reservoir One Music

CHAPTER 1: Justin

Four months later...

Detached. Dishonest. Disillusioned. Dissatisfied. Distant.

Those five words pretty much describe my reality right now. My glaring mistakes are pressing on my shoulders as if I'm lifting cinderblocks to carry from one place to the next, without taking a break in between. My entire existence is wrapped up in a man that I can't get enough of, while I'm still living with a boy- one close to my own age- one to whom I never should have given a second thought. Why?? Why is the question I will forever ask myself, but what can I really do about it except stick it out?

My life sucks... and I have no one to blame but myself.

Screeee. Screeeech.....SCREECH... That's all I hear when he plays that fucking instrument now. That fucking VI-O-LIN! I so want to toss Ethan and Mischa- the name he calls his violin- down the cellar steps and have him go practice there.

But I can't, because it's his place. What's funny is that I used to think it was romantic, in a bohemian, starving artist, sort of way. Now I relish the silence on days when he is running out for class before I have to. I used to find solace at my job in the Liberty Diner, but then he started invading my life there too. When Ethan would do that, I got the feeling that he would appear there simply to rub it in Brian's face that we weren't together anymore.

If he ever thought Brian would show any outward jealousy, he's a damn fool. If that was the case, then during our non-relationship I think I would have been bailing Brian out of jail more often than not. I tricked just as much as he did, whether it was together or separately. I have to hand it to Brian though... If Ethan's idiocy and my charade bothered him, he gave absolutely no indication. He and I knew it was important to at least have the illusion of cordiality, when, to my mind at least, we were anything but.

There was still a fire there, one that would always burn bright, wild, and hot. Regardless of my immature, spur-of-the-moment decision, it always will. The problem with that is that while I want Brian Kinney with every fiber of my being, I can't have him. And so I'm doing penance for being a pussyboy and not making this thing- whatever it was- between Brian and I really work, for not voicing my fears and frustrations until I had crossed a line that I had absolutely no business crossing... Well at least, not with Ethan.

I'm paying for my passiveness and bearing a cross with a ratty trenchcoat, no real job, and an obsessive use of the word ‘baby.' Bloody fucking hell! It's time for me to get to get to work, because if I don't bring home the bacon, and cook it too, we'll starve. And that would just be too unacceptable to my stomach. I forego using my car in favor of walking to work.

Yes, I have a car. I bought it after quitting the diner and going to work in an upscale restaurant within the Steel building. Ethan would stalk me at work, leaving me open to constant criticism from Michael. While I was taking out the garbage, Michael went on a tirade telling me just how good I was at dumping things and that since Brian and I weren't together anymore, I wasn't wanted. I guess he was right in the sense that my continued presence in the place where ‘the gang' met was awkward.

The fact that Ethan would rub it in Brian's face every chance he got didn't help matters, and just made me downright uncomfortable. The other fags who were jealous of me for riding Brian's dick more than they ever did were also glad to hold me up to ridicule. Since Brian was no longer my protection against them and my ‘status' was relegated to the ‘former' bedmate of King Kinney, they felt they had the right to say whatever the fuck they wanted. More often than not, I found myself having violent urges again- something that I hadn't had in months. Those were a leftover side effect of Hobbs.

I endured it until those tendencies were turned on Michael after, yet another, public insult was rendered and I was two-point-two seconds away from punching him in the lip. He was literally saved by the bell as Brian stepped in through the door of the diner. Without a word to any of them, I took off my apron, told John the cook to tell the boss to mail me my last check and left Liberty Diner for good... A place that was more than my job, it was my home for awhile and represented that last tenuous connection I still had to Brian. It's funny though, because around the time that I bought my Jeep, Brian had traded his in for a Vintage Corvette. I call it the ‘Boyfriend Replacement Therapy 101'.

Get rid of as many reminders as you can, as fast as you can and try like fucking hell never to look back.

Taking the bus reminded me of sneaking out from my former home in Hyland Hills to hop the bus from Downtown to the other side of Liberty Avenue and arrive at the loft, anxious to be naked with Brian. I've often wondered if it's the same one that we've fucked in more times than either of us could count, but I doubt it. I don't feel me and him in this vehicle; truthfully I barely feel ‘me' at all. It's a gas guzzler but it's MINE; something that no one- not Brian and certainly not Ethan- can take away from me. Truth be told, I've barely let Ethan into it at all.

Call me selfish if it applies, but again, it's mine. I've worked for it, earned it using my tips from my former job that Brian had me save. Another quarter of my earnings is invested thanks to Ted, and the excess I've used to buy food and art supplies. Even if I'm not attending school next semester, I still don't want to lose all the progress I've gained back in my right hand. So I've fixed it so I would never have depend on anyone to get me from point A to point B again.

It's definitely a start in gaining some independence of my own. I've been driving for the last few days because of the incessant rain. I honestly thought it would never stop but today is sunny. I was supposed to go and see Gus, but I ran behind schedule. Besides, after the last time I was over there, I promised myself that I wouldn't be alone with Lindsay again.

Despite my wishes, she insists on talking about Brian; what he's up to, where he's been. It's almost like she is taking pleasure in my pain. I chided myself for thinking it the first few times. But now, I'm not so sure I should have. She tends to forget that passive-aggressive doesn't work on me and I can do WASP with the best of catty bitches.

But I choose not to engage with her. Sure, it would be a step up from Michael... A very small step. But instead, I only go now when I know Melanie is going to be there. Ironically she has become my ally in all of this.

When I asked why she was siding with me instead of Lindsay, she told me that she refused to take sides between Brian and I, since we didn't when she and Lindsay had their own problems with cheating, not too long ago. I guess Lindsay was like Michael in that respect. She would purposely forget the important things- like support, forgiveness, and compassion- until it suited her self-serving purposes. I can't fault her for that I suppose. She's loyal to Brian, but that loyalty only extends to when she needs something or feels like she's won some waged war that no one outside of Lindsay's mind knew of.

Another lesson learned at the knees of Nancy and Ron Peterson and other denizens of the Waspdom everywhere.

In any event, I refuse to be around Lindsay any more than I must... And that's when I realize that free will is not the curse I've been thinking it was these last four months; sometimes it really is a blessing. I get to the restaurant in plenty of time for my shift. I grabbed the mail out of my P.O. Box on the way to work, so I can finally sit and read it. I started having it go to a P.O. Box the first time I caught Ethan ripping open a letter that was addressed to me.

His reasoning: ‘Baby we're as good as married. Why hide things from each other? What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine, right? So what does your grandmother have to say?' What the fucking hell have I gotten myself into? was all I could think in that moment.

That was a major argument about invasion of privacy and respecting that I needed my space; an argument where Brian was brought up and thrown in my face. Brian had- according to Ethan- given me so much space, I left him, was the core of his point. But instead of sticking around to agree with his misguided thinking, or argue anymore I grabbed my jacket and before I said something that I may have regretted later. Then I went to the post office before settling down in the internet cafe down the street from Ethan's apartment. I didn't apologize for walking out and neither did he for the things he said, but there wasn't another argument about my mail.

My clothes were another matter. I nearly punched him when I saw him about to put on the Calvin Klein shirt I had accidently packed when I gathered my things from the loft. That was Brian's. It still smelled like his soap and cologne and that certain something that was undeniably him. I told Ethan to take the fucking shirt off and stay the hell out of my clothes.

His response: ‘Justin Baby, that shirt is too small and too tight. You might as well let me have it'.

He made to put it on again, before I marched over to him and snatched the shirt from his hands. I guess he understood because simply rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth and grabbed one of his unclean shirts from the hamper. By the time he left and came back, I had a portable closet in the corner of the room where I kept my art supplies. I made sure that the door of it had a personalized combination lock on it and not a standard Master Lock so that he wouldn't be able to guess it. Call me crazy, but after the mail incident, I didn't put anything past him.

For the first month, it was about adjustment for both of us, I guess. He understood that I had boundaries, and I understood some of his insecurities. It took awhile for him to accept that I wasn't going to ignore my relationships with Emmett, Daphne, and Ted. Gus was still a problem for him, which is why I only go to see him on the days I know Ethan will be in the studio from sun up to sundown preparing for another competition. I'm having my requisite cup of liquid sanity in the form of coffee as I stare at the envelope marked ‘Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts- Registrar's Office.'

I had Ted look over the numbers to see if I could afford to pay per credit. He told me If I planned on living with Ethan, eating only Ramen soup, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and without gas, heat, lights, and hot water for the next five years, then sure I could afford it. I didn't plan on doing any of those things- well with the exception of maybe Ethan- so I withdrew from PIFA, until I could get a loan on my own without Craig's income being considered, or Brian's help. I know that we had an agreement, but I have already been accused more than I can stomach about taking advantage of him. Besides, we're  no longer together, so the contract I made him agree to should be null and void.

In the meantime, I will work on paying him back what he has already covered for me, and work out how to get the rest. One thing is for certain though... No matter how well Rage has done, I will not work with that backstabbing, whining, jealous pain in the ass Michael Novotny, again. Let him find some other artist who he can maneuver and manipulate, because this artist is through with him. I'll have Melanie draw up a contract for him to buy me out and I want Ted to look at the books to make sure that he hasn't been stiffing me simply because he's a greedy little troll.

I really should sue him for ALL the rights, since that is my story, but I won't because of Ben. And that's the only reason I won't. As far as everything else, Michael can go to hell. I tear open the envelope, reading the letter and deciding in my anger, that Brian should join him. The Fucker!!

When I was your Man by Bruno Mars: Brian

Lyrics

Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now/ Our song on the radio but it

don't sound the same/ When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear

me down/ 'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name

It all just sounds like oooooh...

Although it hurts/ I'll be the first to say that I was wrong

Oh, I know I'm probably much too late/ To try and apologize for my

mistakes/ But I just want you to know

I hope he buys you flowers/ I hope he holds your hand/ Give you all his

hours/ When he has the chance/ Take you to every party/ 'Cause I remember

how much you loved to dance

Do all the things I should have done/ When I was your man

Written by Andrew Wyatt, Ari Levine, Bruno Mars, Philip Lawrence, Peter Gene Hernandez

•  Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing

CHAPTER 2

Brian

I suppose I should be happy. I mean, look at me. Successful career. A few good friends. Mountains of tricks.

Things technically couldn't get any better... Well that was, until a little persistent blond turned my predictable existence upside down. And now he's gone. Michael would say ‘good riddance' and perhaps I should echo the sentiment. I mean Justin Taylor was entirely too fucking young, too fucking WASPy, too fucking idealistic, to be with the likes of me.

So, on the surface, I understand why he took up with fucking Paganini Junior in the first place. The bottom line is, he wasn't happy. And I couldn't, or wouldn't give him what he wanted. So I did the only thing I could, I let him go. No...

That's not quite accurate; I pushed him away.

The fucked up thing about it is that I did it for his own good. Justin needed something that I didn't have the time or inclination to provide. I can't even say that if he would have told me himself that I would have been more understanding. There's a good possibility that I would have told him to suck it up, get the fucking lesbianic thoughts running rampant in his head out and let's go to bed and fuck like rabbits. But no...

I didn't do any of those things. Instead, I let silence, and the space that's been between us since he was bashed, fill up with the stuff that he couldn't say, and the things that I wouldn't. I could tell he was struggling, floundering, but he did so in fucking silence. He was suffering and there was nothing I could do. So yeah, I let him go in the hopes that fucking Ian would give the boy who deserved everything, what I couldn't- or wouldn't- give to him; to make Justin happy, and for him to finally find some semblance of peace.

"Brian, are you listening?" Michael asks me.

"Yeah sure whatever," I answer, beyond bored with this entire situation.

"Well? Are we going to Babylon or not?"

I look around the table at Emmett and Ted's faces.

I couldn't curb the sigh which escaped me in that moment. "I can't. I have a presentation to do tomorrow." I really didn't, but had hoped that would be the end of the discussion. I should have known better.

"Ah come on, Brian," Michael said, his voice in full-on whine mode. "You haven't been out with us since the shit with Boy Wonder finally ended!"

I saw Ted and Emmett wince. Even Ben, looked at me with something akin to sympathy. Fuck this! Michael doesn't get a say. "I didn't know that you were keeping count Michael. But let me tell you this, what I do with my time is NOT YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS! Now, I'm going home."

"But Briannnnnnn!!"

"Not one more word, Michael. Not one more. I'll call you and no, that does not mean you get to aggravate Cynthia for breakfast, lunch, dinner and in-between snacks until she is so fed up that she's threatening to quit again for the fifth time in a day. This shit really has to stop, Michael."

"Okay! Okay, I promise not to say anything else about he who shall not be named. Just come out with us."

I stared at him in amazement. The term ‘not one more word' was completely lost on him, or did he just think I meant it just in terms of Justin? I really just want him to shut the fuck up! But then again, Michael was always the type to disregard what he didn't want to hear- or to be more accurate, ignore the parts he didn't feel applied to him. "For the last time, I am going home."

"Fine, then we'll all go with you. Right, guys? We'll make it a movie night, a ‘Boys Night In' party and it will be just like old times, except that Ben will be here this time."

Michael smiles like he just had the best idea that I would automatically agree with. I'm somewhat relieved that his intentional denseness isn't a thing across the board with the other guys. I would hate to have to alienate all of them just for the sake of the sanity Michael apparently doesn't want me to have.

"Michael, I think Brian meant that he was going home alone, and doesn't want company," Ben said, talking really gently as if Michael was a skittish mare. I noticed that he did that sometimes.

"Bullshit! Brian doesn't mind. He wants us there! Right, Bri?"

He looked at me with that doe-eyed innocent look, which usually always got him exactly what he wanted from any of us. But honestly, I couldn't really take being around Michael tonight. I had already had my fill of overbearing, well-meaning ‘friends' when I went over to the Munchers this afternoon, presumably to visit Gus. What I got instead was an attempted dressing down from Lindsay. Bitch!

"Brian," she said to me in that tone which reminded me so much of Joan 'Crawford' Kinney that I just wanted to get up and leave immediately. "Michael said you haven't been out since your split with Justin. That's not really healthy, you know."

I blank-stared at her for a few moments before answering. "Nice to know that Michael has, once again, been running around telling business that isn't his. I've told him and now I will tell you, I have been working. What I do when I'm not has nothing to do with the two of you."

"Oh I know that, Brian. But can't you see that we're worried about you? It's not like you not to fuck multiple hot guys every night of the week. If what Michael says is to be believed, you haven't had sex since the last time you and Justin did. It's really past time to let him go, Bri. He's moved on; so should you." She looked at me expectantly, as if I should be nodding my head agreeing with her.

I huffed again, hoping that she would get the message. But before I had a chance to answer her, Mel did. "Stick a dick in it, Lindsay. And where he puts his own dick is really no one's business, but his. You and fucking Michael... You both have partners and families of your own to tend to. Try minding that!"

"Mel, this doesn't concern you..."

"And it doesn't concern you nor Michael either, Lindsay."

Lindsay changed the subject to what I guess she really wanted to know. "Fine. I'll lay off your sex life, Brian. But what I really wanted to ask was about Justin's tuition. Have you paid it?"

"What the fuck? Again, not business that's yours, Lindsay! But out of some morbid curiosity, why do you want to know?"

She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, wetting her upper lip as if trying to taste the words getting ready to come out of her mouth before she spewed them. I guess she finally decided on what she wanted to say because she cleared her throat before doing so. "Well I figured that if he wasn't going to school this semester, he could probably use some extra money since you aren't supporting him anymore. I thought that maybe I could hire him as a part-time babysitter to help with his expenses."

I think both Mel and I wore twin looks of shock while we listened to her say what was on her mind.

"Why the fuck would you even think that would be possible? Justin has a job and from what I understand, he is making out quite well with it. But it doesn't matter, since he will be in school this semester." I worked hard to keep the anger from my voice, but it must have come through anyway.

"Brian, be serious and reasonable, would you? How is Justin going to... oh my God, you're still paying for him to go to PIFA?! I can't believe this! I thought you were smarter than that, Brian! That money could certainly be used for something else; something important."

That did it! "What? Like some other hair-brained scheme you could come up with to keep me supporting Gus and you? You can't possibly tell me that GUS has run through the five grand I gave you last month already." I heard Melanie gasp. "What, she didn't tell you?"

"Fuck no, she didn't tell me," Melanie yelled. "What the fuck did you need five grand for, Lindsay? And furthermore, why do you need a babysitter at all? Gus isn't anywhere near two yet and according to you, you didn't want to go back to work until he was four years old. You handed me some bullshit about Gus' formative years and how you wanted to be a part of them, and yet you've been bleeding Brian dry? For what?!"

"Well... I... well," Lindsay sputtered.

"Spit it the fuck out, Lindsay! I'm really interested in knowing your answer too," I said.

"Well Michael came to me with a business proposition not too long ago."

"What kind of business proposition could he possibly come up with? He can barely run his own. And just how long ago was this?" I couldn't wait to hear this shit. 

"Well you see, after you and Justin... wait, it was before that really. Michael wants to buy Justin out of the comic, and he asked me to be the new artist as well as his business partner going forward. With all of the sales it's been doing on the internet now as well as in the store, it just seemed like a pretty decent opportunity. Plus, I could work from home even while Gus is with a sitter."

Mel just shook her head at the buffoonery, but I just needed to hear this bullshit again. "So let me get this straight... Michael came to you with an opportunity to buy into Rage while Justin was and still is his LEGITIMATE business partner in it? And you've been accumulating MY money to help Michael shut Justin out of his portion of the comic book proceeds? Not to mention that it was JUSTIN, who developed the website and created an online presence for Red Cape Comics in the first place. But was Michael really planning to buy him out or cut him out?"

I knew by the look on her face just what Michael and Lindsay were really planning to do.

"I... Well Michael... Brian..." Lindsay tried to interject, but I didn't want to hear the next excuse.

I turned to Mel. "You're still Justin's attorney, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also yours. And no Brian, she still doesn't know."

"What?! What don't I know?!" Lindsay screeched, angry that Mel and I had at least two secrets between us that she wasn't aware of.

That was the confirmation I needed. "Attorney-client privilege, Lindsay. That means that my personal business, as well as Justin's, remains just that... PERSONAL. Mel knows the consequences if she violates that, although I suspect she won't. So if you happen to gain information that you shouldn't have, I will assume that she told you, have her disbarred and you will end up on the street. Oh, and since I still have legal rights to Gus, he comes to live with me, so don't push your luck or stick your twitchy nose into OUR business. Are we clear?" I watched with pleasure as Lindsay's face drained of all color, but Mel was quick to reassure me.

"Don't worry, Brian. Should Lindsay have even bothered to search, she wouldn't have found any of Justin's or your documents here. They are locked away in my office safe. So, that said, should we call Ted?"

I nodded. "And aren't we all fortunate that Justin gave me full access to his accounts and hasn't rescinded it as of yet."

I walked out of the house with Mel in tow. Justin had already called Ted, asking if they could meet tomorrow. As for Mel, she called Ted and asked him to meet us at her office. As my financial advisor, he was the only one other than Mel, Justin, and myself, that knew I paid Justin's tuition. But at his insistence, we had a legally-binding contract drawn up for him to pay me back.

If I had my way even now, I would have torn the shit to shreds and Justin would never have to pay me back. He still doesn't, but I know that it's important to him that he does. Fucking hard-headed twat never did learn how to accept help. And I suspect with what I did with Mel and Ted this afternoon, that it won't be any different now, which was another reason I wanted to go home. Justin was coming. I looked back at Ted and nodded slightly, knowing that he would get the hidden message in my action.

After I paid the tuition, I had them type up the letter immediately and I hand delivered it to Justin's post office box. He doesn't know that I know he has one. But the fact that he does spoke volumes, in and of itself. Regardless of all that, Justin will want to know why I did what I did, and I will tell him that talent like his is meant to be shared, not wasted. Besides, I have future plans where Justin's ability will be needed en masse. But first things first, I had to get out of the diner and reach the loft before a little blond boy graced it again. I don't know why, but I know I do.

Turning back one last time to the table, where Michael was still ranting and raving about my lack of appearance within Babylon, I said, "Understand this, Michael and understand it well... What I do with my time or my business is not a concern of yours, nor Lindsay's. I'll call you; do NOT call me first."

And with that parting sentence I left the diner, but not before I heard Michael ask the guys, "What crawled up his ass? I'm just being a concerned friend."

Ted, good old Ted said it for me. "If he needs your ‘concern', Michael, he'll ask for it. Until then, I would suggest that while Brian is concentrating on his career, you should do the same. I went over the books today and..."

I left Ted to explain the deep shit trouble Michael is in if he doesn't find a way to put Justin's share of the profits back by the end of the week. And from the look on Ben's face, I think Michael can forget about Babylon tonight, or in the foreseeable future. I'm fairly certain all the patrons of the Liberty Avenue nightlife will be grateful for that. 

Cry Me A River- Justin Timberlake

Lyrics

You were my sun/ You were my earth/ But you didn't know all the ways I loved you,

no/ So you took a chance/ And made other plans/ But I bet you didn't think that they

would come crashing down, no/ You don't have to say, what you did,/ I already know, I

found out from him/ Now there's just no chance, for you and me, there'll never be/

And don't it make you sad about it/ 

You told me you loved me/ Why did you leave me, all alone/ Now you tell me you need

me/ When you call me, on the phone/ Girl I refuse, you must have me confused/ With

some other guy/ Your bridges were burned, and now it's your turn/ To cry,/ Cry me a

river

I know that they say/ That somethings are better left unsaid/ It wasn't like you only

talked to him and you know it (Don't act like you don't know it)/ All of these things

people told me/ Keep messing with my head (Messing with my head)/ You should've

picked honesty/ Then you may not have blown it/ The damage is done/ So I guess I be

leaving

You don't have to say, what you did,/ I already know, I found out from him/ Now

there's just no chance, for you and me, there'll never be/ And don't it make you sad

about it/ Cry me a river

Written by Scott Storch, Timothy Mosley, Justin Timberlake

•  Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group

CHAPTER 3

Justin

Arriving back at the loft after all these months away is kind of surreal. When I left, I never thought to come back. Well, that's not exactly accurate. I knew that I would be back, but not the reason. There are so many feelings running through me right now.

Sadness. Hurt. Disappointment. Elation that I can see this building without Ethan hovering, and accusing me of missing Brian. Which I do, but that's not his business.

I really don't know what the fuck he expects, but right now I can't think about him. I have to deal with the man I have been successful in not only avoiding seeing for the last four months, but a man I have also not talked to and have managed- except in the case of Lindsay- have not heard about. The day after I left the Diner, I called Michael and told him that he could forget about his dream of seeing Rage be the most sought after comic classic. It only seemed fair, since he was all too happy to take my one and only dream man away from me. Could I have picked honesty instead of sneaking around with Ethan?

Sure. In fact, I had. But I didn't even get the chance to come clean on my own, because Michael just had to tell Brian about something he really didn't understand. Or if he did understand it, he chose to disregard or intentionally forget the pain I was in. So yeah, I may have had no business falling for Ethan's romanticism, but Michael had no business being a self- serving busybody.

Well all I can think is of how happy he must be to have Brian all to himself again. I never understood how or why that was so important to Michael, since he had David first, and he is now with Ben. Brian was more like Michael's dusty collectables than a human being with real feelings. As long as Brian was there where Michael wanted him, he could go ahead and live his life as he chose. But the minute he stepped out of Michael's plans for him, or when Michael wanted to play, Brian had a human-sized monkey on his back and screeching in his ear in order to pull him back into the zoo of Babylon's partygoers.

But I can't even put all the blame on Michael, because Brian Kinney never does what he doesn't want to do. It was evident that he didn't want to love me. Or at least, he didn't want to say that he really did. And that's what really makes me angry, not so much at Brian himself, but at everything and everyone who hindered us... And the fact that he let them. 

I marched up the stairs, determined to tell Brian to take his fucking money and shove it. There are too many strings attached to it. It comes with accusations and opinions; with feelings that I am struggling to keep below the surface. I'm trying my hardest to reorder my life, to make what I want for it a priority. And Brian's help fucks up all of it!

Arriving at the top of the stairs, I wasn't surprised to find the loft door wide open. I stopped to catch my breath when I heard his voice for the first time in nearly five months. "You gonna stand there all night? Although I am a little surprised to see you without your constant shadow hovering behind you." Brian tells me.

"Fuck you, Brian," I say as I step over the threshold. As I do I can't help but be assailed with the memories of my very first time here especially when he tells me to ‘shut the door'. I find myself taking that same nervous inhalation, only this time for a vastly different reason, but I do as I'm told before turning around and starting right in on him. "Fuck you and Father Kinney's School for Wayward Wards and Exes."

"So I see that PIFA sent your reinstatement notice." He crosses over to the minibar, and pours himself a double shot of Beam.

I have to catch myself from asking for a glass to coat my suddenly parched throat. God I hate that he looks this fucking good, especially since I am still in my uniform from the restaurant. Thankfully it was a fairly easy night with great tips and I'm not doused in food from having to double as sous chef as had been the case more recently of late. "I just came to tell you to take your fucking money and go to hell Brian. I don't need it, or you."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"You fucking heard me, Justin. And my words weren't all that difficult for you to understand."

"Yeah I heard you, Sir Arrogance, but why the fuck are you doing this?" Fuck it! If he's not going to offer me a drink, I'll grab one for my damn self.

"What?"

"Why are you insinuating yourself into my life again? You've made it perfectly clear that I'm not welcome in yours, and I don't want to be; not anymore. I've already had to deal with the rigors of your life, and I can say that I found the experience exhausting, and an episode not to fucking be repeated."

"First of all, I'm not insinuating myself into anything. Secondly, we had a fucking deal- one that you signed a contract on- so I'm not about to let you renege on it. What's wrong? Afraid your boyfriend is going to get pissed off because your former beau is still able to easily afford to take care of you? Perhaps if he actually found a job, he might be able to keep you in the style you have become accustomed, hmm?"

Nevermind that I have thought the same things as recently as this morning, but coming from Brian... Well that was just too fucking much! "Where the fuck do you get off making me sound like some fucking kept man, Brian? When have I NOT worked? I didn't fuck you, or start fucking you because you were well off. I'm not a fucking whore; never have been and never will be. So again, FUCK YOU!!"

"Wow! He speaks with passion again instead of the dead thing he has been for the last eight months," Brian says sarcastically while applauding me. "But you forget one fucking thing, Justin. I NEVER treated you as such, or accused you of being that to me."

"You didn't have to, since your fucking friends did time and again."

"This isn't about them..."

"Like fuck it isn't!" I yelled at him. And it felt good to do it. I decided right then that if this was the way the conversation was going to go, I might as well let it all fucking out so that I could leave here with a clean slate, Brian-free. "You want to know how many times I have been called a gold-digger by Michael alone? Two-hundred and forty-three times. You were there for over half of them, and you said nothing to your fucking best friend. You want to know how many times it was implied by your baby mama? Eighty-fucking-six! And again, you were there and said NOTHING!"

"It wasn't their business," Brian yelled back at me.

"No it wasn't, but would it have hurt you to defend me, just fucking once? I guess so, since you never did. I had to deal with all of that. And just when I thought that Michael and I had become fucking friends what does he do? He runs to you and tells you about Ethan, without telling you every fucking thing else."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I would tell you to ask little Mikey but we all know how he is, right? He'll do just what the fuck he did this time. He'll only give you half of the information so that he will get what the fuck he really wanted in the first fucking place. Well your asshole best friend knew how I felt when you cancelled Vermont. Did he tell you that? No? Well let me tell you what I told him. I told him that I want to be with someone who wants only me, someone who wants to stay home once in awhile or at least gets jealous when he sees someone else sucking my dick in front of him. Do you know what the fuck was bringing all that on, Brian? Could it be the fact that I seemed more of a hinderance to you than anything else? Do you know who reinforced that diseased and warped thinking by telling me that I was only with you because you felt guilty? That's right! Your best fucking friend!

"Well after tomorrow, your best friend will need your ass to bail him out of a fucking hefty lawsuit if he doesn't buy me out of the comic at a decent price. He and I were supposed to be partners in that fucking rag. But then I get a call saying that he was going to give me five-thousand dollars for my share of the comic. I talked to an attorney and considering what Michael owes me in online sales alone, he'll be lucky if I don't snatch his fucking store from him and sell it along with his collectibles all in under two fucking hours. So you can take your money, begin the Brian Kinney for Pathetic and STUPID ass Best Friends Who Never Read the Fine Print on A Contract Fund, and fuck off!"

I could see that what I said really pissed him off, but why? Was it because I exposed Michael, or because I told him to fuck off? I doubt that anything I've said regarding him and I will make one fucking bit of difference, so it must be Michael... again. I drop the letter on the coffee table, advising that I will be calling PIFA in the morning to stick with my original plan of dropping out until I can afford to do it myself. I was just about to the loft door when I heard him speak.

"Well then you must be prepared to go to court then."

I whipped around so fast that I nearly lost my balance. "What the fuck are you talking about? You're going to sue me? For what?"

"Breach of contract."

I laughed, I couldn't help it. "So, because I'm suing that whiny bastard, you're going to take me to court?"

"You got it, well partly, but this has nothing to do with Michael."

"Fuck you, Brian."

"Say it one more time, Justin, and I swear I will make good on fucking you. Now back to the matter at hand. I'll be suing you for breach of contract. You know what the stipulations of our contract were, and you're trying to disregard the terms by dropping out of school for the second time in a week. You are a commodity, Justin; an investment, and I refuse to let you out of the contract, even if it was your idea to begin with."

"Brian, that is ridiculous! We aren't together anymore. Besides there wasn't any fine print that I didn't go over so I guess I'll see you in court."

"You are the most stubborn ass..."

"Fuck you, Brian! You're the most arrogant asshole I've ever met. I...I need to get out of here before I say something else."

Before I could get the door unlocked and opened, I found myself slammed against the brick wall beside it and my hair being pulled from behind. I winced at the rough yank as I felt Brian's hand grip my scalp in a manner that I never thought I'd feel again.

"I warned you, Justin," he said gravelly in my ear, and I couldn't stop the quickening within my body that I felt at the tone of his voice. I made to reach for the door and felt Brian press himself fully against my back pinning me in place. "Fuck me, huh? No... Fuck you!" He said before his mouth began attacking the nape of my neck.

SOMEBODY ELSE'S GUY: Jocelyn Brown

I can't get off my high horse and I can't let you go/ You are the one who, you are the one who/ Makes me feel so real, yeah, yeah, yeah/ Oh, what am I supposed to/ Oh, what am I supposed to do baby/ When I'm so hooked-up on you then I realize, oh, I realize/ That you are somebody else's guy/ Oh yeah/ Why you wanna do this to me boy

Can you remember the times we spent together/ Sharing the days in the sun/ Then I found out you were somebody else's lover/ After all the plans were made now they're shattered

Still I can't get off my high-horse I can't let you go/ You are the one who makes me feel so real/ Oh, what am I supposed to do when I hooked so on you/ Then I realize that you're somebody else's guy

That day in September I'm sure you can remember/ That's when all the stuff hit the fan/ You told me a lie and you didn't have an alibi/ But baby yet I still care 

You know I loved you so baby that I can't let you go, no, no/ You are the one who makes me feel so real/ Oh, what am I supposed to do when I'm hooked so on you/ And I realize you're somebody else's guy

Chapter 4

Brian

I heard everything he said about Michael and Lindsay. But they aren't my concern right now, although they will be. Right now, I have him pinned against the brick wall, my hand tangled in the soft, longish blond locks that I haven't touched in more hours than I care to fucking count or remember. I will never tell him of the hustlers I hired for a week straight after he left me- all blond, blue-eyed twinks and all the same horrible fixation with the Gap and Old Navy, but none of them had his hair texture, the smell of his skin, the pattern of his breathing when he is excited or aroused. None of them were him.

But he's here with me, and arguing over fucking money!

"So you want to haggle over money like some fucking whore, Justin?" I growl into his ear. "Well, let me show you exactly how I treat them."

I unbutton his shirt quickly, realizing that he must have come straight from work. Part of me wishes that he'd worn his normal style of shirts so that I could rip it clear off of him. There was a time when I would have done exactly that. But I realize that after I make my point, he still has to go home to Ian. And that shit pisses me off even further!

I bite into his shoulder, hearing him gasp and hiss as I transfer my displeasure into pleasure for him. I know how he likes it. He loves when I'm rough, when I leave no particle of him unmolested; no part of his soul untouched.

"St...St..."

"Don't you dare tell me to fucking stop, Justin! That's not what my whores do."

"I not your fucking whore!"

"And that's what you need to remember, isn't it? You're not! And I've never treated like you were."

"Then why do this?"

"Because..." And I bend his head back again to kiss him, before I tell him how much this fucking hurts; before I let it be known how much the knowledge that he is no longer mine claws at my insides. But he doesn't deserve to know that. That's MY secret!

He left. Yeah, so what. After all, I played my part in that leaving. But this is about me having to find out all that shit he spouted from Michael. And Justin never having the fucking balls to correct my knowledge; about him giving up on me- on us.

Yes, I can admit that there was an ‘us', if only to myself. But he should have known there was after he fought so fucking hard to make it happen. So now he'll pay for my pain with his body. And then maybe I can fucking sleep tonight without dreaming of being inside it, without knowing that the same road my dick travels is the one he allows Ian's to go. Maybe I can exorcise the demon of constant want.

Maybe I can finally climb out the pit of loneliness our fucking stupidity and silence threw us into. Fuck!

I grab at his pants, shoving them down passed his hips. At first, I thought the whimper was his way of telling me to stop, until I felt him push back into me with force. 

"You motherfucking son-of-a-bitch! Would it have killed you to ask me to stay, Brian? Would it? Why are you doing this?"

Instead of answering him, I turned him around and began to eat at his mouth. God, I have missed the taste of him! The plumpness of his lips as they mash hard and angrily against my own, makes me nostalgic and desperate for not to end. Kissing Justin Taylor has always been more euphoric than any drug I have ever taken. I wonder if Ian knows that we had an agreement that Justin broke in order to kiss him.

"Did you like breaking our rules, Justin? Ian doesn't kiss you like this, does he?"

Without giving him time to answer, I ram my tongue into his mouth, trying to touch his tonsils with my tongue. I want to wipe every thought that isn't about me and him clear out of his fucking head. For once in eight fucking months, I want his undivided attention! He pushes me back, trying to get some distance between us.

"Ethan. Ethan. His name is ETHAN! And I don't want to talk about him while I'm standing here with my dick waving at you!"

"Fuck that! We're going to talk about him while I fuck your brains out, Justin. Because I have no doubts that Eeyore did it while he was fucking YOU!" I yelled back at him.

"If you knew anything, Brian, you would know that I haven't been fucked, but was the one DOING the fucking!"

He stills, and I can tell from his reaction that he didn't mean to let that little piece of information slip out. All this time, I've been imagining Justin writhing beneath that raggedy fucker with his ass full of the idiot's dick. But Justin hasn't let the bastard into him? I look at him closely to see if there is any hint of a lie. But the fact that Justin can't look me in the eye, and is biting his lip right now is very telling.

"Not man enough, huh?" I ask, just shy of smugly.

And then it was his turn to shut me up. Justin jumped on me, kissing me as if I was an oxygen tank and he was looking for his last breath. I gave as good as I got, letting all my anger and disappointment- my buried hurt- come forth and color the kiss. He bit my lip then licked away the sharp sting of the action. I fucking hate him right now, but I love what he does to me.

No one else can make me this passionate about anything; nothing and no one else can take his place in my bed!

I move us in that direction, picking him up bodily as he continues to pull my hair while wrapping those surprisingly long legs around my torso. As soon as we reached our battleground, I dumped him in the center of it, wasting no time divesting him of the nearly-discarded pant leg still clinging to him, his socks and his shirt. I tossed them over my shoulder, not giving a fuck where they landed or how rumpled they'll be when he goes to put them back on before leaving me again. Once again, the thought of Justin leaving angers me to no end, and I find myself biting him hard upon his legs. I don't give a fuck if I leave marks.

Justin is MINE! Always has been and always WILL be! And I don't give a fuck how long it takes for him to realize it! I will make damn sure he knows it every time he looks at himself for the next fucking week! I flip him over onto his stomach, watching his ass wiggle as he tries to get some friction on his aching, leaking dick.

But he won't get relief, not until I give it to him. And right now, this isn't about pleasing him. It's about me! I cover his entire length with my body, adding more biting and sucking marks along the way. I want to see stamps along his body. 

"Br...Bri...Brian please...." he moans out to me.

"What?"

"Hurry..."

"No." That simple word has him taking in a sharp breath, as I part his plump ass cheeks and dive in.

I inhale the pheromones centered right there as I begin to tongue fuck his hole slowly, holding his hips stationary so that he can't move away from me. His cries of frustration and pleasure are music to my ears, as I rim him to within a centimeter of cumming, before stopping long enough for the orgasm to recede. Then I start all over again.

Justin is clawing the sheets, still begging for release when I turn him over and take him into my mouth. Deep-throating Justin has always been my own guilty pleasure. His cock is thick and long, and fills my mouth and throat just right. His precum is just the slightest bit salty and always leaves me craving more, even after he shoots fully down my throat. Swallowing around his dick, I can hear his breath hitch, before the most amazing moan escapes him.

I have both of our hands entwined to keep him from snatching me bald, or trying to guide my head to where he wants it. Right now he is completely at my will and mercy; just the way I love him. Bringing him once again to the precipice only to deny him his climax is frustrating him to no end. Now he knows what being without him is like for me.

Frustrating. Sometimes disheartening. It just plain fucking hurts! I want to hurt him the way he has hurt me, but I can't. I know that somewhere inside of him, he still trusts me and I would never destroy that.

But that doesn't stop me from wanting him to remember that it was me in his ass for the next month. Disengaging one of my hands, I reach over to the glass bowl with the condoms in it. I look at Justin lying there, waiting for me to do whatever it is I'm going to do. He's not lying there like some dead thing, or out of obligation. He is still lying there because he needs this.

Does he need to feel ‘us' again, too?

I don't know and I won't ask him; I just know that I do. I put the barest amount of lube on the tip of my fingers before tapping around, reaching under him. Justin automatically put his legs up in a way that would give me easy access to his entrance. Good boy! I waste no time in inserting both fingers at the same time while he once again grips the sheets and lets out a gusty sigh at the first penetration. The sound took me back to the very first night I heard that lusty sigh with the barest amount of pain mixed in.

Even then, I longed to hear it again and again; to be the cause of it, and the end result of it. But unlike that first night though, Justin relaxed instantaneously as if his body has never forgotten the feel of my fingers inside him. He moved and shifted my digits within him, choking back a gasp when my fingers reached his pleasure center and tapped twice before settling into a staccato rhythm against it. Before long Justin was climbing passion's peak again, and I was debating with myself to allow him the release he'd been denied since we had begun this familiar dance of push and pull between us.

Justin made the decision for me. "Fuck... Fuck, Brian! Stop finger fucking me and get your cock in me. NOW!"

I couldn't help the chuckle that left me. Justin has always been a dynamic top, but he was one bossy ass bottom. "But I think I want to stay right here," I tell him, moving my fingers at an even slower rate. That moan of frustration and desire is back full force, and I can't help but smile.

"Fuck yourself on your fingers, Brian. I want your dick!"

"How bad?"

Justin's abdomen contracted so tightly, he would have made any personal trainer proud. But the action was felt in his rectum, where my fingers were playing happily until he squeezed them. I remembered then why I had taken to calling Justin the ‘Nutcracker.' The things he could do with his ass was amazing.

"Fuck me now or I swear, Brian, I'll try with everything I have to break your fucking fingers while they are in my ass. I would hate to see you have to explain that particular injury to your fucking nosy assed friends. I can just hear Michael's whining and Lindsay sounding like a fucking pigeon, cooing over you."

I sighed. First, I had forgotten just how cruel Justin could be. Mentioning Michael and Lindsay, during sex of any kind, is usually enough to make my dick soft. But more than that, I've forgotten how vindictive he can be because now in my head, instead of hearing Justin's moaning and cursing, I have the faintest alarm bells ringing ‘Briannnnn' and ‘Brian' both in the most obnoxious tones of whine and coo. I placed the condom on my dick, then rammed into Justin both as punishment and because I needed to hear him moan loud enough to drown out all the other white noise in my head.

I settled into a driving rhythm, one that had Justin clawing my back, and whispering the dirtiest things in my ear. My blond has always had a filthy mouth when I fucked him, especially when I hit his prostate hard at just the right angle. Most people looking at Justin would never know, that beneath all those mild manners, is a fucking porn star. Justin clamped his ass around my dick, then laughed at the hitch in my own breathing. I leaned down and proceeded to kiss the breath right out of him, giving him the tongue lashing I could no longer give him in words.

He moaned into my mouth, and I knew by the tenor of it that he needed me to drive harder- to speed up. I reached between us and pinched his left nipple, causing his pelvis to jerk tightly into mine. Moving my hands down underneath him, I gripped his ass in both hands, spreading him just the smallest bit wider and jackhammered my way into his ass just the slightest bit further within the already tight fit. My reward was a hiccup and a slight scream emitting from the smart mouth still attached to my own. I kept him there, moving against him, making the smallest circles but keeping all the impact on that bundle of nerves.

I can feel him trembling from the inside out as I keep up my assault. I could tell that he was loving the motion from the way he fused our lips together, even more. The tremors became a full-blown quake and I knew he was right on the brink again. This time I wouldn't stop what was happening. In fact, I moved faster, wanting to speed up my own orgasm and kick his up a notch.

The next time he is fucking that punkass, Paganini Junior, I want him to remember the only man who could make him insensate with pleasure like this... I want him to remember ME! Justin tried to reach between us, heading straight for his cock, but I grabbed his hand and held it high above his head on the pillows. It's my dick that he'll cum from, nothing and no one else! I rammed hard again, adding a little snap at the end of my forward motion, sending him over the edge.

Feeling his walls contract around me, was my version of heaven. He couldn't still the movements of his own hips as he continued to crest, moaning my name then whimpering in relief. I felt the wetness from his eyes slip onto the side of my face, which is buried in his neck as I climax within the condom. First a gasp... Then the moan that Justin always brings out of me...

And finally the sigh which spells relief.

Having Justin again was everything I could have imagined. And for these few moments, he was mine again, not somebody else's guy. By the time I pulled out of Justin, he was already sleeping deeply. I smiled, remembering the many nights that he fell asleep with my dick inside of him, content in the knowledge that this was how it should be. Tomorrow there will be awkward feelings about what we've done tonight.

I cannot honestly say that I feel bad about it, but I know that he will. It was a one-night-only kind of thing; I dare not call it a one-night-stand. It's simply who we are in this place that we used to call home. Perhaps now that this is done, I can call it my home once again. But looking at Justin settle himself into my side, as I draw the duvet over our cooling bodies, that's debatable.

As We Lay- Shirley Murdock

Lyrics

It's morning,/ And we slept the night away/ It happened,/ Now we can't turn back the

hands of time (oh no)/ Yes we've stolen this moment,/ We forgot to face, one simple

fact/ We both belong to someone else/ As we slept, the night away

It's morning,/ Sunlight shines across your sleeping face (uh huh)/ A new day,

Brings reality that we must go our/ Separate way/ What a lovely night, we had (yeah

yeah)/ As we shared each other's love/ We forgot about all the pain we'd cause/ As we

slept the night away

As we lay/ We forgot about tomorrow as we lay (mmhmm, hey hey)/ As we lay/ We

didn't think about the price we'd have to pay(oh no, no no no no no no no)

It's morning/ And now it's time for us to say goodbye/ Goodbye baby/ You're leaving

me,/ I know you got to hurry home to face your wife, whoa/ I would never never want

to hurt her no/ She would never understand/ You belonged to me for/ Just one night/

As we slept the night away

I would never never want to hurt her no/ She would never understand/ You belonged

to me for/ Just one night/ As we slept the night away/ As We Lay/ We forgot about

tomorrow/ As we lay/ We didn't think about the price we'd have to pay... Oh no hey

We should have counted up the cost/ But instead we got lost/ In the second, in the

minute, in the hours/ Hey hey, hey as we lay/ We forgot about tomorrow, as we lay

Whoa/ It's morning (it's morning) (oo oo)

Written by Larry Troutman, Billy Beck

• Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Chapter 5

Justin

Consciousness claimed me but I lay here, refusing to open my eyes and let go of the dream I was having. I know that I've slept deeply from the way my chest rises and falls confined by my skin. Part of me feels guilty for sleeping next to Ethan, while basking in the glow of the most fabulous dream I'd had since leaving Brian. Mostly, I've either stayed awake or woken up in cold sweats from the nightmares that have returned full force. But not this morning.

No. This morning I feel renewed, despite the fact that I'm still mildly exhausted. But I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Within that dream world, where it was just Brian and me, everything was said that should have been voiced a long time ago. I actually had the courage to tell him that for a while now, I haven't been able to trust anyone- even myself- but I trusted him; that he fucked me over while fucking ‘himself.'

That I wished I had had the courage that night to choose him over the easy road I have now. That I needed easy.

It was the first time I had asserted myself in a long time... Even if it was only in my dreams. I still regret hurting Brian, and I know that we have to talk eventually. Maybe without the passion and a bed, it would go smoothly. It definitely wasn't smooth after we finished.

Fuck! I wish I could return to that dreamstate where there were no naysayers, or people who think they know us better than we do ourselves. I wish there really was a place where it was only him and me, and no one else; a place where our problems weren't center stage and Liberty Avenue's latest drama. But talk about wishful thinking. Whether I regret it or not, I was the only one who left in defeat, and everyone knows it.

I sigh, knowing that to think about this anymore will deflate my semi-good mood. I have to get up and fix breakfast and dinner because my schedule is full today. I'll never understand how Ethan survived on the shitty tips he makes. But then again, his parents are basically footing all of his bills and all he has to do is eat or have money for travelling when he goes out of town, I suppose it's easy to make things work. Opening my eyes, I notice a feeling of deja vu, as if I had done this very thing, in this very place before.

And I fucking have.

It takes me a moment to register the ultra-high ceiling, and industrial feel of the place where I rested my head last night. Blinking slowly and reaching up to wipe my eyes again, I keep hoping what I think I'm seeing is just a leftover remnant from my imagination gone wild. I mean, it would stand to reason that since I dreamed of Brian and I arguing and vividly having sex, I would experience a post-somatic hallucination, right? RIGHT?! Oh fuck.

I am so WRONG!!

I fucking hear just how mistaken I am, when the rhythm changed in his breathing signaling his very near ascent from his own slumber. I can't stop my eyes from traveling down the long length of his supine and slender body, knowing that at the end of my perusal there will be an impressive tent in the sheets when my eyes unintentionally caresses his groin. The minute hitch escaping from his half open lips, tells me that I need to get the fuck up and moving before either one of us has a chance to say or regret anything that happened in reality instead of the dream world I was happily cavorting in. I swallowed hard as my body tingled, knowing that before I could escape the bed, I was already caught. It would have been nice to think that I could ever put one over on Brian.

But I can't, not even in this instance. He's blinking at me slowly now. I guess he's entitled to have the same suspension of disbelief moment I already indulged a few moments prior. But it isn't changing the fact that the sun is now peaking over the top of the trees and that in the light of day, I should've left instead of... 

"Morning," he says to me in that sleep-sexy voice, I have always loved.

I couldn't stop the involuntary shiver, working its way up my spine. Brian has always had that effect on me, from the moment I met him. But right now, I can't afford to languish or relish in the fact that I can still feel when it comes to him. No, in fact I should probably be regretting that I do... But I don't.

Looking into his eyes, I see the same emotional questions flitting through my own and know that we are about to enter dangerous territory once again. Now I understand why Brian was always against talking about fucking feelings. Before I let myself get wrapped up in memories and nostalgia again, my ringing cell phone breaks me out of my early morning stupor.

"I, uh... I..."

"Go Justin," he said, turning away from me as he did. "You always do."

And there it is... The fundamental flaw in my character. The people that I shouldn't stand up to, I have no problem telling to go to hell and how fast to get there while riding Satan's pitchfork. But the one person I should be, and could be honest with more than perhaps even myself; the one who accepts me, flaws and all, is the one I seem to always leave. It doesn't matter that he pushes me to make a choice of where I want to be.

The fact is that I always choose to go. Why is that? Do I use the time as a regrouping period in order to make a comeback as some former champion would? Or am I being a coward and seemingly taking the safest way to sanity? After last night's airing of dirty laundry in the place where it all began, I think it's high time that I answer those questions.

I get dressed in silence, stealing glances over my shoulder every now and again, almost wishing that he would look back at me. I know that whether he wants me to stay or not is irrelevant. He wants me to, but would never ask. I know that. But what does matter is what I want, and there is no easy answer to that anymore.

There's no doubt that I will always want Brian. Who wouldn't? Smart, successful, sex on fucking legs; Brian is every man's dream, and at least Lindsay's, too. But that wasn't enough for me before, and I know that it isn't now. Even what Ethan gives me, isn't enough.

Does that make me egocentric? The funny thing is that if I mentioned these thoughts to Brian, he would sanction them saying ‘There's nothing wrong with getting your needs met.' And I may have even bought that idea had I not seen what destruction thinking of only myself had wrought. I looked down at the keys in my hand; the two that I had snatched off my keyring in anger just before I came upstairs and things got heated. The two little objects, which have always meant so much to me, I almost threw at Brian when I walked into the loft.

Part of me thinks that I should return them. I mean after all, it is his loft. It was his before me, and obviously it still is now that I'm gone. But the selfish bastard I can be sometimes says that I've earned these two little silver items, which gives me unlimited access to a one-of-a-kind King. I've earned them in more ways than most people would ever know.

So for now I'll keep them until this- whatever the fuck it is- is settled, for good or ill. But right now, this.... This can't happen again.

I let myself out of the loft, locking the door behind me and setting the alarm. Looking down at my cell phone, I see that it was Daphne calling. As I dial her number, I'm reminded of another time she covered for me. It was the morning after Brian and I began. That time it was my mom; I'm pretty sure this time is about Ethan... again.

"Justin, where the hell are you?"

"Just walking around." It wasn't a lie...well it would have been 5 minutes ago, but that's beside the point.

"Well, your fucking boyfriend just interrupted my morning sex-a-thon with Bachelor number three. He showed up here, supposedly worried, but I get the impression that he was more pissed off than concerned for your well-being."

"Oh shit! I'm sorry, Daph."

"Don't be sorry; Be fucking HONEST. Again I ask, where the fuck are you?"

"I'm on my way to get my car, and then I think I need some time alone. There's a lot going on right now, and I'm just feeling a little... overwhelmed."

She softened her tone. "Are you really okay, Jus? You know we've never kept secrets. If something's wrong..."

"I'll work it out, and then I promise full-disclosure. But give me a chance to work out my own issues. There's no need to put all this on you, too."

"If you're sure," she told me.

I reassured her and hung up the phone. No sooner had I disconnected when Ethan rang the phone. I wasn't in the mood for my own whiny version of Michael Novotny, so I let it go to voicemail in the hopes that he would take the hint and just leave me alone. I didn't have to work today and after last night, I just can't take the questions and accusations. Although in this case, he would be right.

Was it strange that I didn't feel like I owed Ethan any explanation, but when I had to own up to my infidelity with Brian, I respected him enough to give him one? The more I compare my relationship with Brian to my relationship with Ethan, the more I find that there are more flaws and holes in the latter than there ever were between Brian and I. I now understand why people say the grass always looks greener on the other side. Wouldn't everyone be surprised to know that my current situation is full of crabgrass and weeds? But hindsight and all that, right?   

I checked the time on my cellphone, noting that Ethan should be in class now. I walked the distance between Brian's loft and Ethan's place in record time. Once again, I couldn't bring myself to take the bus even though I would have been there within twenty minutes instead of the near hour it took me. Another strange thing I'm noticing as I hold out the single key on a violin keyring is that I have never bothered to put it with my other keys. With the loft keys, I put them back on the keyring with my car keys, almost immediately after I left.

But Ethan's apartment key, I always keep separate. Not to get all philosophical here, but there has to be a reason that I keep one part of my life separate from all others. I suppose I can figure that out while I change.

"Where the fuck were you? And don't tell me Daphne's. I checked with her and she hasn't seen you for two days!"

I'm stunned to see that Ethan missed his class, which he never does. I might have been touched, except that I am taking umbrage at his tone which is that of a parent-child relationship, instead of equals. Not that we really are, but still... "Out," I say as I move around him towards the area where I've stored my clothes. I grab my sketchbook and messenger bag along with my towel, washcloth, soap, and shampoo.

"Is that all you're going to say? That you were 'out'?" He has his arms folded and is tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for an answer. He isn't going to like the one he gets.

"Yes, that's all. You should have gone to class. I could really do with some peace right now."

"Justin, I think you owe me an explanation about where you've been. I'm your partner!"

I sigh. "No Ethan, you are not my partner. We didn't sign any papers to make that happen."

"Is that what you want? You want a legally binding commitment?"

Suddenly, I feel a panic attack coming and I know that I have to get the fuck out of here fast. "No Ethan, that isn't what I want. Right now, I just need to go."

"Not until you tell me why you didn't come home last night!"

"If I wanted you to know, I would have told you when you asked the first time. Now that is all I am going to say, so you might as well stop badgering."

"Justin..."

"Goddamnit, Ethan, LEAVE ME ALONE!" Finally silence, but I can see the hurt look in his eyes. This is what I miss the most about being at Brian's. We didn't have to fill every quiet moment with conversation or meaningless chatter. There was no playing 810 questions every five minutes. "Look Ethan, I just need some time to myself."

"I would have thought that you had gotten that last night. Unless you weren't by yourself?"

I stare at him and he looks down, knowing that he isn't going to get a confirmation or denial from me. I picked up a lot from living with, and loving Brian Kinney. And how to answer questions without actually answering was one of those skills.

"Fine, Justin. Well... I was thinking that since I'm missing one class today, I might as well miss all of them so that we can spend the day together."

"Ethan, I just said that I need time to myself."

"I know, Baby." I cringe at the endearment, which has obviously has gone unnoticed as he continues speaking, "And I promise not to be a bother. I just want to be where you are. I missed you last night. And then this morning when I woke up, you still weren't here."

He moved to grab me around the waist. I let him, but I still say, "Ethan, go to class. You really can't afford to miss a day. You have auditions coming up to travel with the Harrisburg Philharmonic. You would never forgive yourself if you don't make it because you didn't take every opportunity to practice."

At the mention of the HP, I could see that I finally broke through this round of clingy Eeyore... I mean Ethan. Fucking Brian! Anyway, I know that it won't be long before he is gathering his things and making his way out the door, so I resume packing my own supplies.

"Will you be here tonight for dinner?"

What he really means is will I be cooking dinner. I know that was part of the problem with my sudden disappearance last night, and again this morning. Cooking used to be a joy for me, but now it's become a chore. "I honestly don't know. I plan to go to the studio later, so there's no telling how long I'll be."

I can hear the resignation in his voice when he says, "Oh, okay. Well call me and let me know. I love you, Justin."

I stay silent as I watch him move to where his violin and bag containing his sheet music is. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he closes the door behind him. I put everything that I intend taking on the couch, and hurry down the hall to grab a quick shower. I couldn't help but notice all of the marks that Brian had left on me, nor could I quell the pride I felt in the sting the soap caused while washing myself. God, I am quite literally a glutton for punishment.

But even as I stand here under this moderately hot spray of water, I can't stop thinking about last night- all of the joys, sorrows, defeats and triumphs of it. My ass is pleasantly sore and with every move I make, I can still feel Brian deep within me. I know that I have to make some decisions, but one is already made for me, whether I want it to be or not. I know that I said that Brian and I can't happen again, but after last night, all I know is that I can't do without him.

Mother's Finest - "Love Changes"

Writer: Skip Scarborough

You stay awake half the night/ Love is just a perfect chance/ It must be love that's on

your mind/ You're doin' things you wouldn't before, oh.../ 

Love will make you oh, so happy/ Inside, ha, ha, ha (Ha...ha...ha...)/ Love will make

you oh, so sad/ Make you cry, ha, ha, ha

Oh... changes/ That's what love makes you do, hoo.../ Changes/ That's what love

makes one do

Wonder if it's real this time/ Or just another half-goodbye/ You walk around starry

eyed/ Can't believe that love would hurt again, oh...love/ 

CHAPTER 6

Brian

I cringe at the loft door slamming shut in the wake of his leaving. Again. There was so much more to be said without all the anger, but what the fuck... I'm STILL fucking angry! And somehow his confusion about what happened last night makes me even more so. 

But Justin is doing what Justin does. He runs. Not because he can't face what is happening; no, never that. He's running to buy himself time. Well that's fine, because I need some time, too.

Time to think. Time to regroup. Time to figure out just what the fuck I'm feeling beneath all this shit, that's too close to the surface. But I don't have time to analyze all of that just yet. I have a meeting to get to... 

One that was requested just before Justin's arrival here last night, and one that I dare not put off. 

I roll out of bed and decide which suit of armor I'm going to put on today. I can't help but snicker thinking of how many times Justin told me that I hide behind the facade of being THE ‘Brian fucking Kinney'. Be it suit or leather, with a snarky attitude and self-assured poise, I manage to cover up the fact that I'm messy inside, just like everybody else. It still amazes me that he could see that. But right now, it's as if we don't know each other at all anymore. 

He's changing, and I'm not quite sure what to do about it. I’m not even sure if I want to do anything about it at all. Maybe it’s just the natural progression of things, I suppose. After all, he is almost twenty years old. I would like to think we all had some type of epiphany about who we were going to be around then.

But there is something different about him on the inside that I just can't put my finger on... Some new determination to live his life his way. The question is: do I want to go along for the ride, and if I do, will he let me? My life up until I met Justin Taylor was pretty predictable. I had even managed to fool myself into thinking that it was all enough.

But even before the night he was standing under that fucking streetlamp, something was nipping at my heels. I began to metaphorically run faster and faster. However, the night I exited the club after that measly, teeth-grinding blow job, I looked into his eyes and somehow I saw a place that I could stand still for awhile; a place where I could rest momentarily before finding my mental footing again. Justin was only supposed to be my stopping place for a little while. But somehow he had turned into my cornerstone.

I think about all the times, during the past year, we didn't seem to know the right words to say. Sex was never a problem for us. In bed, on the couch, on every available flat surface or against the wall in the living area or shower, we never had a problem letting our bodies speak for us. And last night was no different. As I look down at myself in the shower, I see the telltale signs that Justin's been with me...

The bite marks, bruised imprints of his fingertips as I took him hard and rough. I don't even have to look at my back to know that there is bruising there. Or even the ones around my hips that are assuredly from those boa constrictors, he calls legs. My body is a walking reminder of a night of sexual satisfaction, where nothing got solved. But we definitely relived how this whole episode in our lives called ‘Brian AND Justin’ got started.

I'm still shocked at what Justin revealed last night about Michael and Lindsay. Yeah, I actually listened to him as he ranted. And although I was there to witness some of their badgering and innuendos, there were many instances that I wasn't. As I think back to the Vermont trip, I remember telling Justin that I had to go to Chicago for work and that business had to come first since it paid for the loft and PIFA. Now that I look back at that episode, I probably shouldn't have made it sound as if he was being a burden to me.

He wasn't. Never has been, and never will be. It would have been our first time going away together. The fact is, that yes, I could have taken him with me just so he wouldn't have felt like a millstone around my neck, or that he wasn’t missing out on time with me. It's amazing what one can see when they actually take the time to look. 

I remember the dejected look on his face, I had just chalked up to childhood disappointment. But he wasn’t ever a child to me, so why had I locked him into that category? I couldn't see what Justin was feeling beyond having his hopes dashed. However, now I know that something deeper was going on with him. But what??

The funny thing is that although I didn't tell Justin about the whole job situation and the threats made to my job, I did tell Michael. If Justin went to Mikey with his list of grievances as he said he did, why didn't Michael reassure Justin with the whole truth? Or at the very least, why didn’t he tell me what was really going on with Justin when he went to Vermont anyway? As I continue to get dressed, preparing for my meeting, I now understand just what Justin had said so venomously last night. Mikey knew much more than he had let on from the onset. 

As Justin's friend, why would he let the boy hurt like that? I draw the conclusion that Michael was what my father used to call a ‘fair-weather friend'. As long Justin was playing his part in making Michael's comic book a reality, all was right in Mikey's world and he was Justin's friend. But then there is still the little matter of why he told me only half of the information when he found out about Ethan. In lieu of all I’m just now finding out, I don't trust Michael to be completely honest with me. 

But I do know someone who can tell me what I either didn't see, or ignored completely.

Grabbing my briefcase, I scroll down my contacts list as I leave the loft. I had just finished setting the alarm when he answers the phone. "Brian? Brian Kinney? Who are you and why do you have his phone?"

I couldn't help but narrow my eyes, as I waited for the elevator to come up. "Cut the shit, Honeycutt. I need you to put on your least tacky suit, and meet me at La Monde's in about an hour."

"No can do, Mr. Kinney. You see, some of us actually have jobs whose bosses are a lot less flexible and I needs my money, Honey."

I growled into the receiver. "Fine, I'll pay you double for the missed day. Just call in already."

I heard the slight catch in his breath. "Sounds important. What's this about?"

"Is Michael there with you?"

"He's in the shower."

"Good. Don't tell him or anyone else that you're coming to meet me. It's not a fucking gang hangout or get-together. I'll arrange for a car to pick you up in forty-five minutes."

"Fine by me, Brian. But what should I tell you know who? You know how he is when it comes to you."

"Simple, you follow my instructions of a few moments ago... Tell him absolutely nothing. My meeting with you isn't anyone else's business. If you must, tell him you are meeting with a potential client for your catering business. Even though it hasn't fully taken off, you're still taking odd jobs right?"

"Indeed I am."

"So there you have your excuse. Now hurry up, Emmett." I hung up the phone, breathing a sigh of relief.

Admittedly, Emmett can be exhausting but he is also honest to a fault. He won't bullshit me, and will tell me exactly what I want to know. When I arrived at the restaurant, I saw the woman that I needed to see- or rather- who needed to see me. She always was an elegant dame, and today is no different. I know that I have to talk to her about the business side of things before Emmett gets here. 

As for the personal... Well, Jennifer Taylor was never one to mince words with me. So I have the distinct feeling this meeting she requested won't be any different, despite the fact that Justin and I are no longer in each others' face, place, and space.

"Brian, how are you?"

"I'm doing okay, Mother Taylor. How are things with you and Molly?"

"They could be better, and that's part of the reason I asked you to meet me here."

"What's happened? Has Craig tried again to pull some underhanded shit with you

regarding alimony?" I had offered to call my attorney for her several times, but Jennifer is one of those extremely independent women who very rarely allows for help. Sound familiar? I completely see where Justin gets his stubbornness.

"I promise you Brian, Molly and I are fine. The reason why I asked you here today has to do with Justin." She waited to see my reaction to his name, but realized that she wasn't going to get an averse one. So she continued on with, "Are you aware of what Michael is trying to do to him?"

I nodded. "Aware and shocked, though I'm not surprised. Their falling out at... Well, it was major, even before the..." Fuck! I still couldn't voice the ‘Rage party' aloud. She reached over and touched my hand briefly, in a show of understanding. Before I had a chance to pull it back, she removed it.

She cleared her throat. "The thing is, he went to my attorney yesterday and explained all he wanted to do. I was surprised to know that he had set up an LLC for himself under Justin Taylor Enterprises. Although he was partners with Michael in Rage, his artwork for the comic was copyrighted under the business. This is what's giving him the legal grounds to sue Michael. Any Rage-related graphics have to go through Justin. 

“So the fact that your best friend was trying to freeze Justin out of his share of the proceeds by having Lindsay draw in a sense- you- has landed Michael and Lindsay in some serious copyright infringement trouble. He said that he is through playing nice, and that he is going to take everything away from Michael. I don't think I've ever seen him so... angry."

"I have," I snickered. I couldn't help it, before I cleared my throat. "But in any event, Justin is well within his legal rights. I had Ted look over the books from the proceeds, both in the store and online. I'm sorry to say that Michael is in complete breach of contract, and can possibly be brought up on charges for stealing over half of the proceeds himself while only giving Justin ten percent or less, of the sale on each Rage-related paraphernalia, be it comic book or doll, etc."

"Wow... That's... That's... I can't even believe Michael would do something so shady! Does Deb know?"

"Not yet, but she will. I'm almost willing to bet that as soon as Michael receives the summons, he will go running to her to tell her about it." I know that I am sneering, but I really can't help it.

I thought by now that we were all supposed to be grown and mature. But Michael enjoys playing way too many High School Bullshit games with people's lives. I think the only one who still buys the act IS Deb. But that’s only because she wants to. In a warped way, I think it keeps her from facing the fact that she is aging, too. 

More fool, her!

"So where will all of this leave you and Justin?"

"What do you mean?"

"Brian, this is me you're speaking to, in case you've forgotten. I know that what has gone on between you- what is going on between you- is most assuredly not over. It can't be."

"Why not? Justin has made his choice Mother Taylor. In case you've missed the memo, I'm not it." I couldn't help but drop my eyes. I didn't want her to see what that simple statement did to me every time I thought the same words I just said to her.

"Brian... please look at me. Please." At the plea in her voice, I couldn't not look at her. She was Sunshine's mom, and oddly more of a mother to me in a lot of ways than Joan Kinney could ever hope to be to me, not that she would. "I know that I gave you a hard time, at first. I thought that you were too old, or were going to take undue advantage and hurt my son. But over these last few months, I've watched you with him; watched him with you. You both bring out that special something in each other. I don't see that with Ethan, ever."

"It doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't! You gave me my son back. He's different, but the changes are so minor compared to what they were before you moved him in. The funny thing is that same withdrawn mentality he had when I first asked you to take him- to touch him- is the same desolate look I've seen a hundred times during the last, almost five months."

I swallowed hard. "I... I can't heal him, Jennifer."

"No one's asking you to. That is up to both of you since you are hurting, too. But what you can do is reach him. He's shutting everyone out of what is going on in his life."

"It's his life. He has to want me in it. He gets to decide how he wants to design his life. If I force his hand, then I'm no better than Craig, only better looking and more well-endowed."

Jennifer snickered, but turned serious again. "Brian, he isn't sleeping well. His nightmares are back. I had to pound on the door at Ethan's one day last week for roughly ten minutes, before he was able to rouse himself from sleeping deeply. While I was waiting, I could hear the pleas and screams. I recognized them immediately because of what he was saying, while trapped inside of his nightmare. One name kept coming up, over and over again when he fought to climb out of his slumber. Brian… Brian... Brian... he was crying out for you."

"So what do you want me to do, Jennifer? I can't make him come home." I can't believe that my voice broke at the last part of that sentence, but it couldn't be helped. "How long have they been back?"

"Based on what I've seen with my own two eyes- the fatigue and world-weariness- I would venture to say it was the night he left Babylon and you behind. Ethan is a sweet young man, but he is looking for a wife and Justin is not it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Justin is not prepared to sacrifice his dreams, goals, and aspirations based on some homemaker stereotype that says one of the partners must do all the cooking, cleaning and a host of bullshit society says makes a relationship count. You know Justin has never been into perceived gender roles."

I nod my head, as I signal to the waiter for another double shot of Beam. Just sitting here listening to Jennifer tell me about Justin's night terrors- for that is what they truly are- coming back, is a lot for me to take in. "Does Ian know? I mean does he know of the things that Justin dreams?"

"I doubt it. In fact, I don't even think that Ethan knows much about the bashing at all, except that Justin pissed off a classmate by simply being himself. And I really don’t even think that particular observation came from Justin directly; just someone who knew only a small amount of the situation with Hobbs as a whole. I didn't get the impression that Justin has shared much of himself with the young man, beyond what Ethan thinks he knows about the two of you."

"Yeah well, Justin can be as closed off as a locked box surrounded by barbed wire and an electrified fence when he chooses to be." I know that I'm bitter, but Jenn won't let me live in my one delusion of complete openness and honesty.

"So can you, Brian. Don't think for one moment that I don't hold you equally responsible in this debacle, because I do. You're just as guilty of omission as my son is. Now your reasons for that are your own, although I suspect Justin knows more than he's willing to say. I've always admired that about the two of you. You both have- or had- the ability to see what no one else could see in each other. I remember coming to the loft many times, and seeing how relaxed you both were in each others' presence. But that all changed when you allowed others to interfere, while you said nothing."

Before I had a chance to refute what she said, I heard the nelliest queen of them all say, "She's right, Brian. Had you not let others in between you, this wouldn't be happening."

"Do you want to order a drink first before you berate me? Or are you feeling exceptionally brave today, Honeycutt?"

"I will take that drink, Mr. Kinney, but only because I'm thirsty. It's certainly not because I'm afraid to tell you that you're an asshole, and an idiot for not seeing what your best friend was doing behind your back... and don't call me Honeycutt."

After he ordered his Cosmo, he greeted Jennifer, asking her about business and if she would be able to look for a home for him and Ted. I didn't know that things had progressed that far. Not that I really cared, but it's just showing me how much I have been out of the loop since... 

"So what can you tell me about this shit that I don't know?" I ask. He looked over to Jenn, silently asking if it was okay that she hear it all. "You might as well. Mother Taylor has had no problem telling me what she thinks, so why should you?"

"Brian... well it's just that... I just..."

"Oh for fuck's sake spill, Emmy Lou. I promise not to have the chef come out and slit your throat out. Satisfied?"

"Not by you for a long time," he retorted quickly. This was one of the things I have always enjoyed about Emmett Honeycutt. He wasn't the type to mince words, and could give an insult as quick as he received one. He took a sip of his drink before beginning to speak. "Okay, so here is what I know. Michael befriended Justin for the sole purpose of making his comic book dream a reality. Now, Justin of old would have seen Michael's olive branch for what it was- a temporary and contingent thing- but new Justin was desperate to have someone to help him understand you. I remember asking Michael what the hell he was doing; it seemed as if he did a 180-personality change overnight. His reply was that being friends with Justin was good for business. I couldn't argue since ‘Rage' is all the rage right now. But the whole Ethan mess didn't really start, until the night Ben was in the hospital."

"Bullshit. He was hanging out with Eeyore way before that; since the week after his birthday, in fact."

"Be that as it may, it was just ‘hanging out' up until that point. You're forgetting that Justin also confided in me. Things that he wouldn't tell Michael, like about Ethan's constant overtures, he told me and Daphne. The night he had gone to Vermont alone was really a turning point in how he saw things, and it was because of the conversation he had with Michael while going over the new comic boards that morning. I knew he was going to Vermont by mid-afternoon, and I asked him why he was if you weren't going with him. He said that you wouldn't give a shit, and you were probably taking the weekend to live it up in Chicago. He said that the week away would do him some good. I knew not to question Justin further at that point, but I also knew who to question. The entire dejected look Justin displayed had Michael Strikes Again written all over it."

What do you mean?" Jennifer asked Emmett.

I couldn't help but remember the many times Justin had worn that certain ‘Michael knows Brian best' look. Usually it was after Michael shot off some perceived ‘Brian Kinney-isms' as fact. And truth be told, I never did anything to dispel the myth of mystique Michael always seemed to think I have. Not to Michael, and certainly not to Justin. Fuck, it's been part of me for so long, it really does seem like it's me and maybe parts of it are but not with Justin.

How could he have forgotten that after everything we shared?   

"Michael's favorite line after ‘I'm his best friend,' is ‘Well that's not Brian.' Justin's probably heard it so much since the night he and Brian met that it's probably on a running tape in his head with Michael's voice. Which by itself, isn't very pleasant."

"So when did Michael decide to freeze Justin out of the Rage profits?" I really need to know this.

"I remember him asking Ted how much it would cost to buy Justin out of the comic. This was right after he asked you where Justin was the last night we were all at Babylon together, before the infamous party. Ted told him that it would take money that they haven't even made, as of yet. Michael must have forgotten what he told Ted and I not even a week before, when he blurted out that he had the money. Ted told him that he would look at the books for him, to make sure that Justin would be getting a fair deal."

"And let me guess...Michael stalled for time, and said he already had an artist waiting in the wings."

"How did you guess?" Emmett said, genuinely surprised.

I debated with myself of how much I could actually get away with telling Emmett. I mean, the guy is a notorious gossip- probably the biggest that has hit Liberty Avenue since Godiva herself landed in the Pitts. But I also know that he is completely loyal to Justin. He's like Daphne in gay man form. So making the decision, I begin to level with him about this.

"After Lindsay had the unmitigated gall to ask me if I was paying Justin's tuition this year, she said that she was planning on asking Justin to babysit for her while she took on drawing 'Rage'. I had Ted look at the books from my end yesterday. For some reason, Justin never took authorization on his business accounts, or other important papers from me. Also Mel went over the contract between Michael and Justin with a fine tooth comb. Michael forgot some very important details, when he decided to freeze Justin out: All rights for the artwork of the comic revert back to Justin, as does the graphic arts on the website since Justin designed it, and Rage: Volume I issue 1 in its entirety is all Justin's, since it was based on his personal story. In a word, Michael is FUCKED."

"Without lube," Emmett gasped, upon hearing all that I said.

"I don't even want to know why the words ‘fucked' and ‘lube' would be linked together in the same sentence," Jennifer said, causing Em and I to snicker. "But I do want to know what this means for Justin."

"It means that Justin's lawyer, namely Melanie Marcus, is going to file papers for Michael to cease and desist immediately on all Rage paraphernalia. And he's not allowed to do business online at all. It looks like Red Cape Comics is about to hold a going out of business sale," I answer her.

"You don't think Justin will do that to Michael, do you Brian?" Emmett asked me.

"From what I heard last night, Michael is lucky that this is all Justin is going to do. He's fucking angry, and I don't blame him. Emmett, why didn't you tell me what was going on?"

"I tried. Remember when I had shown up to Vanguard that morning, but you were on some tear with your boss? And then I tried again at Babylon that same night, but Michael kept interfering? Now, I understand why. All of his planning, and plotting seems to be working out exactly the way he and Lindsay wanted it to."

"Lindsay?"

"Oh Brian, you really are blind sometimes," Jennifer chuckled. "Michael may have planned some parts of this, but the rest is all WASP, Darling. Lindsay made suggestions to Michael, and being the weak-willed, easily-influenced man that he is, Michael carried them out. Thus Lindsay gets to keep her hands clean from the fallout."

While still at the restaurant, I made the call to Melanie and told her to go on and file the lawsuit then have Michael served immediately. Mel told me that she filed at the conclusion of our findings yesterday, and that there should be a process server on his way to Michael's shop as we speak. I then left a message on Justin's phone, telling him that I arranged for Mel to deal with Michael and to not give me or her any shit, despite the fact that Gus' birth mother is involved. Lindsay is lucky there isn't much to do to her, since her name isn't on anything official yet. Otherwise, she would definitely be going down with Michael.

But as I sat there, half-heartedly listening to Em and Jenn's conversation flow around me, I decided that it's time that Lindsay and Michael really learn what it's like to be frozen out, a la Kinney style. But regardless of everything else happening, I have to see Justin again... Today... NOW! But I don't even know where to find him.

Ordinarily, I would say he would be in the studio at school. But since classes don't start for another two weeks, I know he's not there. And as I look out of the window into the golden triangle and my eyes fall on blond hair, bent over a sketch pad, I realize that there is no time like the present. I know that most would wonder how I could tell one blond from another since there are so many around; both natural blonds, and those that come from a bottle of peroxide or Miss Clairol. My only answer is that my dick only hardens at the sight of one blond.

And his name is Justin Taylor.  

Ethan

I know that whatever is bothering Justin has something to do with some mail that he's gotten recently. I have been searching everywhere he may have written the code to the combination lock, but I haven't found it yet. He keeps everything in that fucking locker: His clothes, his mail and anything else that he feels is none of my business. But it is my business because in spite of what he says, Justin is my partner. He's my muse, my reason for playing with such verve.

But he's extremely guarded lately. I feel him slipping away, and yet I am powerless to stop it. He's discontented somehow. And it doesn't help that he has a car now. When he was walking everywhere or taking the bus, I could be sure of the places he would go. 

There were only so many places to get to when you didn't have a set of wheels, so it didn't make keeping track of his whereabouts so difficult. I could just show up where he was, and it was perfect. But ever since he got that fucking replica of Brian's jeep, he spends more time in it than he does with me. And I hate it! He barely lets me in it to ride with him.

At least when he didn’t have a car, I had the consolation of knowing if he wasn't working, he was with Daphne. Or at least I used to believe that, until last night! Now I don't know where the fuck he is half the time, and he refuses to explain himself. I have a feeling that it's going to happen more and more. I don't like my Baby not being accessible to me at all times.

And if last night is anything to go by, something has got to be done about that fucking car.

While I was on my way to class, I remember asking him if he was going to be home for dinner. Or more accurately, if he was going to fix dinner tonight, but I couldn't hide my surprise when he said that he would probably be in the studio tonight and didn't know when he would be home. I know that he was talking about withdrawing from school, not sure if he would have the money to attend. I know that I shouldn't be happy about that, but I am happy about the possibility. I know that his mother is struggling financially, so she wouldn't have the tuition money lying around.

His father certainly isn't going to come up off a dime, if it meant that Justin wasn't going to the college of his choice. Justin's father makes me glad that I was born well-off... But then again, so was Justin and look where it has gotten him. So by deduction, that would have left his ex-boyfriend to supply his need to attend school. I would rather Justin just not go, if that was the case.

He belongs with me, on my arm, instead of with the Male Whore of Babylon. Selfish much? Yes and no. I want the best for Justin and I AM what's BEST, not Brian Kinney. It might be selfish of me, but it is also a fact!

But back to this studio: Where is it? I have no idea. I didn't even know that he had found studio space, until he mentioned it this afternoon! There are so many things he is keeping from me lately. He barely sleeps in the bed beside me anymore.

And making love... Well that's become almost non-existent in the last month and a half. Whenever he fucks me it's perfunctory now, as if his only goal is to get off. Sure, I get off too, but the spark isn't there like it was the first time he took me. I don't know what's going through his head.

All I know is that I am losing him, so it's time I step up my game a little bit. I already managed to make him so uncomfortable at the Liberty Diner, that he quit of his own accord. He still talks to Emmett and Ted from his old friends, but that's it. But now, it's time to sever his connection with Daphne. I can no longer trust that he's with her when he is away from me, so it stands to reason that I can't trust her either.

Her first and only loyalty is to Justin, and I know that if things were the same between him and Brian, Daphne would side with Brian, too. No, Justin is mine and anything that stands in the way of us being together, has to be removed at all cost and that includes his friends. I'll have to see to it.

My Dirty Little Secret by All-American Rejects

Lyrics

Let me know that I've done wrong/ When I've known this all along/ I go around a time

or two/ Just to waste my time with you/ Tell me all that you've thrown away/ Find out

games you don't wanna play/ You are the only one that needs to know

I'll keep you my dirty little secret/ Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret

(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)/ My dirty little secret/ Who has to

know?

When we live such fragile lives/ It's the best way we survive/ I go around a time or

two/ Just to waste my time with you/ Tell me all that you've thrown away/ Find out

games you don't wanna play/ You are the only one that needs to know

The way she feels inside (inside)/ Those thoughts I can't deny (deny)/ These sleeping

thoughts won't lie (won't lie)/ And all I've tried to hide/ It's eating me apart/ Trace this

life out

I'll keep you my dirty little secret/ Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret/ I'll

keep you my dirty little secret/ Hope that you can keep it)

My dirty little secret

Who has to know?

Written by Nick Wheeler, Tyson Ritter

• Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group

Chapter 7

Justin  

I decided to come down to the place where all three rivers meet. It's kind of symbolic of the way I'm feeling right now. One side is everything I feel when I'm with Brian- sexy, strong, and satisfied. But on the other side of that is the way I feel with Ethan- self-sufficient, self-assured, and self-reliant. And here I am in the middle wondering if I can be all these things on my own.  

Since this morning, I have given up the notion of happily-ever-afters and am willing to live happily-for-now. Does that mean that I don't believe in love anymore? Not at all. I just believe that it is meant for other people, and I find that I can live with that. I can't help wondering if that was what Brian was trying to teach me all along, but in reality, it doesn't really matter.

What does matter is that I love him, and as unrequited as that may be, I refuse to turn into Michael, still waiting for an unfinished handjob and a level of emotion that will never be returned. The fucked up timing of this realization doesn't even bear mentioning. If it did, I would probably lose my resolve to take what I can get of Brian, while keeping my life as I've come to know it with Ethan intact. Brian was right though: People cause their own pain. And I'm learning to live with the consequences of mine.

That said, I put aside my sketchpad to place one very important phone call. Pressing one for speed dial, I am surprised to hear ‘Teenage Sensation' by GusGus playing in front of me, even as the sunlight has disappeared behind a six-foot-two, impeccably dressed, auburn haired and hazel-eyed cloud.

"You rang?" Brian asks me, with his customary smirk adorning a pair of sensual lips that I would like nothing more than to run my tongue across.

"Obviously, I was just calling you. But what are you doing here?"

Brian folded his lips inward in that way that always made my heart race. "I just had lunch with your mother and Emmett."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'm surprised that your cute little shell-like ears weren't burning, since you were the topic of conversation."

I couldn't help but startle at the revelation. "You didn't tell them about last night, did you?" I didn't want to get my mother's hopes up. She has taken to subtly badgering me of late for not ‘going home' as she terms it. I could understand her point... Well I could if I had a home to go to. The loft is Brian's, and the hovel I am currently staying belongs to Ethan. Whereas this arrangement seemed to satisfy a nomadic fantasy before, it's really  become old now. "Brian, look... it's not that I don't..."

"Forget about it, Sunshine. I know what you mean." He sat next to me in silence for a time. I guess he was as lost in his own thoughts as I was in mine. Granted, to an outsider it was always hard to tell what was going through Brian's mind. Guess I now know what that feels like, and I hate that I have anything in common with those people. "What do you want?"

That question surprised me as it was the last one I expected to hear. "What are you asking?"

He folded his lips in again, this time to buy time. That much I remember about him. It's the act of him choosing his words with care, when there was something really important he wanted to say. Coming to some decision, he asks me to walk with him. I agree, because sitting here seems counterproductive to actually discussing anything. 

When I'm motionless with him all my senses are fixated on Brian, as if there is nothing and no one in the world but him for me. If I am to retain some sense or semblance of autonomy in this moment, I can't be that close to him. He's asking me again what I want, as we begin a leisurely walk down the boardwalk of the Monongahela. I've always found this place peaceful, with the sound of water lapping on the riverbanks. But right now all I can hear is the beating of my own heart and it's disconcerting.

"Why do you keep asking me what I want, Brian? You've made it clear many times that it doesn't matter."

"Are you saying that I am selfish?"

I had to think a moment before answering that question, because in reality Brian is probably the least selfish person I know. Or should I say that I thought I knew? His motives, no matter how convoluted they may have looked, were always pure and with the best of intentions toward their target. I wonder what that says about me and my motives at the moment. "Not selfish, but autocratic. Whatever function I served in your world had to be according to your rules, your need for self-preservation. Looking back, I can respect that. But Brian, in my world, you were my safety net, my safe haven, the only person I thought I could turn to when everything around me was going to hell in a handbasket. I've since learned that you can't be that for me."

He was silent for a time, and I worried a little bit that I may have crossed a line. I've been doing that a lot lately- blurring lines, burning bridges, bulldozing my way through concrete walls, and tearing up one-way streets, only going the wrong direction so that I set myself on a collision course with self-discovery. How fucked up is it that I no longer remember the person I used to be before Hobbs? And here Brian is asking me what I want. The truth, MY truth is that I want him.

I want what we had before the prom, where I thought we were making some real progress. I want to wake up with him again. I want to know that part of Brian which he keeps hidden away from the rest of the world. I want him to feel safe with me. But most of all, I want to know me again.

And the fact of the matter is that I can't have all I want from Brian, if I don't obtain those same things within myself. I can't even bring myself to ask for them, since this isn't fucking Jerry McGuire and I can't ask Brian to complete me. This is real life and that's not his job. It belongs to me and me alone! Yes, two halves make one whole in everything... 

Except where relationships are concerned.

"So where does that leave us? After last night, I thought..."

"What? That I would just come running back to you, Brian, begging your forgiveness for something that we both caused? I've taken you for a lot of things, but delusional was never one of them."

Brian stopped walking, and I turned to face him. I couldn't place all of the emotions I was seeing on his face, except the anger. "I'm not fucking delusional, Justin. And if you would shut the fuck up and let me speak, we wouldn't be on the verge of not speaking again right now! That's what got us into all this shit in the first place!"

I laughed, but there was no humor in it at all. "Wow! Brian Kinney actually wants to talk? Since when?"

"Since there are some things that need to be discussed. If there weren't, I would have had you flat on your back right now within your jeep with your upturned toes scratching the fabric on the roof. I would have you bent like a pretzel and be fucking you to within an inch of sanity, finely-tailored suit be damned. So fucking tell me what you want from me already, because last night wasn't the fuck enough!" He yelled the last part at me, as if almost willing me to get what he was asking for. I did, but he won't get what he really wants from me in the way he's asking. 

"Fine, Brian. We can be fuckbuddies. It's no secret that we can barely be in close proximity to each other and not fuck at some point- the period after the bashing notwithstanding. Since that's all most people thought I was good for anyway, it stands to reason that you do, too."

"Do not presume to tell me what I think, Justin..."

"I won't. But the problem was really never how you perceived me, was it? It was always how your friends did, how the denizens of Liberty Avenue did, and ultimately, how I eventually perceived myself: As your in-house whore."

"You were never..."

"I'm not done." I paused to look at him, delighted by the surprise I saw momentarily grace his face before his mask of impassivity blanketed his countenance once more. "The bottom line is that I don't allow anyone to fuck me, unless it's you."

"Not even Ethan?"

"Especially not Ethan. In all honesty and if you must know, I don't trust him to know what to do with me like you do. Again, our problems were always vertical unless we were fucking standing up. That said, I'll need to see you periodically to get my needs met. Unless it's about business, we don't need to discuss anything else. And I don't want anyone to know about this. It's one thing for everyone to think that this is all we were about; it's another thing for them to know it. If you can agree to those terms, then we can start tonight."

"What about your boyfriend?"

"This has nothing to do with Ethan, and I would appreciate it if we don't talk about him."

"Why not? From the sounds of everything he's said and I've heard, you and he have had plenty of conversations about you and me. Turnabout is but fair play."

I snickered. "This isn't one of Shakespeare's tragedies, Brian. It doesn't have to be. The bottom line is that for good or ill, you are a fever within me. And until I can exorcise the need, this is the only alternative that I can see that is even remotely reasonable. Anything else would be cause for speculation and expectations; neither one of us have time for those."

"What the fuck is going on with you, Justin? This isn't you," Brian tells me, almost in awe of what I am contemplating doing.

"Let's just say I'm under construction... reconstruction, that is. And I don't need any heavy-handed entanglements while I try to figure shit out. I already have my hands full with one possessive brunet; I don't need them full with another." There, that should tell him all he needs to know.

His cellphone rings, and as soon as he answers, I can hear the whining screech on the other end. He holds the phone away from his ear. I suppose it's to keep from going deaf, but I think even the seagulls flying high above us can hear every single disparaging comment about my character, being broadcasted over the airwaves. At first, I didn't know what he was screaming about until I heard the words ‘Rage', ‘lawsuit', and ‘little shit', all in the same sentence. As I keep listening, I know exactly why Michael is pissed off and I can't help but be gratified by that. 

Apparently while I was visiting Mom's lawyer yesterday, Ted and Melanie were busy looking at all things comic business. I knew that Michael was in breach of contract and I was trying to weigh the pros and cons of calling him on it. I can tell by the look on Brian's face that this was the reason why he met with my mother this morning. I can't help but chuckle at the realization that Michael is finally going to be called on his shit in some way. I can't even say that I feel sad about that right now.

Am I bitter at him? You bet your ass, I am! And unfortunately for him, I've learned a thing or two from being a WASP and the housewives obsession with Ivana Trump when she said, ‘Don't get mad, get everything.' So oh hell yeah, I most certainly will!

Brian  

I'm still listening to Michael screech about how wrong it is for Justin to sue him for breach of contract, as well as threatening him with embezzlement charges. "Well Michael, what did you expect? From the sound of it, you did all the things listed within the document."

"How the fuck can you be on his side, Brian? After all that little shit did, how the fuck can you take his side?!"

I rolled my eyes heavenward. If there really was a God, I will have to ask him why He released the plague of pissed-off Novotnys upon me. I could hear Deb in the background, yelling about everything she did for ‘Sunshine' even as Michael is reiterating his own deeds of good will towards Justin Taylor. I want to tell them both to stop blowing smoke up their own asses. But they wouldn't be able to hear me, and frankly I'm tired of wasting my words.

"What do you expect me to do?" I ask him, before telling him flat out, "You were wrong, Michael. Dead wrong!"

"Look, can't you talk to him or hire a fucking lawyer for me? One that will bury him in court?"

I look down at my phone, unable to believe that he just asked me that. "So it's alright for me to talk to Justin, as long as it will benefit you?"

"Well duhh... didn't I just say that?" Michael retorts, as if his logic is undeniable. This fucking guy... And I'm friends with him?! Best friends? I think not!

"No, Michael. I will not talk to Justin FOR YOU. And I will not hire a lawyer FOR YOU, since I don't believe in wasting my money. You should just pay him what you owe him, and then dissolve the business. I doubt he will let you continually use his blueprint for the comic book, or his design for the website." I reach out and draw Justin to me, running my fingers through his hair. Somehow the anger I feel in speaking to Michael right now, and inadvertently listening to Debbie's rantings in the background, drain away the second I touch him. Has it always been like this?

"How can you ask me to do that, Brian? What will I do for money?! It's not like I'm going back to working at the Crap Emporium again." I hear him huff at the thought. 

"Well that is pretty much your only option, shy of going to court. Which I can and will tell right now, you will lose and have to pay what you owe him plus any court fees."

"Fucking Boy Wonder!" He sneers. "So he gets everything and I'll be left with nothing?!"

"Technically you've already had more than your share, which is what has landed you in this shit in the first place," I say, unable to resist pointing that out. "Michael, paying Justin and selling the business- well what will be left of it- are your only feasible options in which you will not escape totally broke by the end of it."

"Well, couldn't you just pay the kid off for me, and that would take care of it? Then I wouldn't have to lose my store, and Justin would be happy to get anything from you. I mean, you could give the little money-grubber two dollars, and he would take it then run away. He'd just be happy because it came from you."

I look over at Justin, who is about two seconds away from snatching my phone and letting Michael have it with both barrels. I have to stop that from happening. Since Justin's proposal- however indecent it might seem to some people- I have been thinking about all that he was saying, between last night and today. Emmett's revelations and Mother Taylor's observations also factor into what my opinion is of Justin's idea of wanting to keep things between us totally private. Listening to Michael's low opinion of the type of man Justin is, I can't find a good reason to refuse Justin's request.

"Fuck you, Michael. Justin isn't like that, and you know it!" 

"Oh no? He's not, huh? Then where is he? You paid his fucking tuition last year, but is he still with you? No, he isn't! He's with that fucking fiddler as a result of some tantrum he's throwing because you wouldn't bend over and kiss his ass!"

"If I were you, I would spend more time worrying about how you are going to solve YOUR problem. I'm out of it and I intend to remain that way."

"Briaaaaaaannnnn, you can't be serious?! You're really going to make me deal with this when we all know that Justin would do whatever you want with just a word? TELL HIM TO FUCKING DROP THIS, BRIAN!"

"NO!" I yelled back, then disconnected the call. Seconds later, the phone rang again and I ignored the call.

Then I called Cynthia to tell her that the Novotnys and Lindsay were not welcome inside Vanguard's walls. The last thing I need is for them to show up at my office, making a scene. With all of the shit going on at the office regarding my refusal to take on the Stockwell campaign, I'm skating on thin ice as it is- partner in the firm or not. Starting my own firm is looking more and more like a sure thing, instead of the risky possibility it was a mere week ago. The good thing is that I already have an artist in mind for the job, if he's willing to work with me. 

But first, there is a little matter of taking care of some more immediate needs. "I see your point about keeping this between us, Justin."

"After Michael and Deb's tirades, I thought you might," he tells me.

"How long do you want this to go on?"

"I thought I already said."

"Not really."

"Indefinitely."

"Indefinitely?"

He chuckled. "Something wrong with your hearing, Mr. Kinney? Although, I don't doubt there could be after having to endure the Banshee of Liberty Avenue and her offspring."

"Point well taken, Sunshine. But on a serious note, do you really only want to talk about business when we're together?" I watched as the moisture crept into his eyes, before he manfully pushed them back. They still glistened in the sunlight, but not a single tear fell. Strangely, I'm a little saddened by that, and now I understand exactly what Jennifer meant when she said that Justin was closing himself off.

"It's all that I can handle at this moment, Brian. I know that you understand that."

I did, but it doesn't mean that I have to like the fact that I do. This Justin was someone I was going to have to learn all over again. But I would do it if in the end, for good or ill, we will banish every single ghost our former relationship had within it. "You have yourself a deal, Mr. Taylor. I'll see you at the loft at nine."

"I'll be there."

"I know." And with that we parted ways, tacitly agreeing to be each other's secret. But I couldn't help but to wonder how long this version of us would last.

What About Your Friends- TLC

What about your friends, will they stand their ground, Will they let you down again?

What about your friends, are they gonna be lowdown, Will they ever be around, Or will

they turn their backs on you?    

Every now and then, I get a little easy, I let a lot of people depend on me. I never

thought they would ever deceive me, Don't you know when times got rough, I was

standing on my own.

I'll never let another get that close to me, You see I've grown a lot smarter

now.Sometimes you have to choose and then you'll see, If your friend is true then

they'll be there with you.

Yo, is it me, or can it be I'm a little too friendly, So to speak hypothetically. Say I

supply creativity to what others must take as a form of self-hate. Only to make an

enemy which results in unfortunate destiny. They dog me out then be next to me, Just

cause I am what some choose to envy.

What about your friends, will they stand their ground, Will they let you down again?

What about your friends, are they gonna be lowdown, Will they ever be around, Or will

they turn their backs on you?

Songwriters: Dallas Austin / Lisa Nicole Lopes What About Your Friends lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, The Royalty Network Inc., Joyce Irby D/B/A Diva One Music

Chapter 8: What About Your Friends

Michael

I can't believe Brian isn't willing to help me out with that little shit! I mean... I did most of the work with sales and shipping. All he did was draw. Okay... okay so fine, Rage wouldn't be what it is without Justin. But I'm sure that Lindsay would have been able to do just as well a job as that little asshole. Well she would be doing it, if I didn't receive these fucking papers from some guy saying that Justin filed a Cease and Desist order- whatever the fuck that meant!

And it didn't help when I called Mel and asked her to explain it. She told me that as Justin's attorney, she couldn't in good conscience talk to me but advised that I should get a good lawyer of my own. She did give me another 'free piece of advice' as she calls it, and told me not to sell or distribute anything Rage related until the matter is resolved. Well FUCK THAT and fuck them! I'll do what the hell I want!

Justin Taylor doesn't own shit; Rage is MINE!

"So what are you going to do, Baby?" Ma asks me.

She was here when that guy came in here, saying that I got served and also during the phone call with Brian. She called and tried to talk to Jennifer for me; to tell her that Justin was wrong but... Uh... Well, that didn't go over so well. Jennifer told Ma that she should let me grow up and take my punishment like a man.

Then Ma... Well, long story short, they aren't speaking right now. But that's just fine by me, since I really wasn't happy with her being friends with Jennifer Taylor anyway. "I'm going to continue on as I have been doing. Justin doesn't own anything, so he doesn't have a say in what I do."

"I beg to differ, Michael," Emmett says, since he heard what was said as he came through the door. "The fact is that you have been cheating Justin out of his money. Ted and I warned you about your penchant for never reading the fine print of a contract."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! Rage was MY idea! All Justin did was draw for it, which is something anyone else could have done!"

"Sure, if you were willing to pay them up front. But we know that you are cheap, Michael, even more so than Ted. Well, unless it's other people's dough you are spending, then you're a veritable imitation of Millburn Pennybags."

What the fuck is this? Pick on Michael Day? Well fuck that, too! But I don't have to defend myself since Ma is already starting in on Emmett's comment. "Michael is not cheap, Emmett! Perhaps if you were a little more cheap, you wouldn't be borrowing money from him all the time."

Emmett laughs. "Michael, when have I ever borrowed money from you that I haven't paid back almost the second I borrowed it? Tell me, so I can pay it back right now," he says, taking out his wallet.

I look away, not wanting to discuss this in front of my mother. But she's insistent. "Tell him, Michael! Tell him how you came to me to ask for the money to keep you and him from being evicted last week. Emmett, you owe Michael for that! If it wasn't for him, the landlord would have put you out. Right, Michael?"

Emmett

I'm standing here watching as Michael's eyes shift back and forth, as if trying to find a way to escape his lies. Sorry Mikey, but there is no escape from the tangled web of your own making; not on my watch! It's time Debbie knows that we were never in danger of being evicted. Although I don't exactly know what Michael used the money for, it certainly didn't go towards the rent. Which I paid, and Michael still owes me for.

"So, Michael, would you like to answer your mother, or should I?" I waited for a few moments, trying to give him a chance to come clean of his own accord, even while Debbie is still squawking and demanding that Michael tells me what he told her last week. I finally couldn't take it anymore so I say, "Debbie, I don't know what Michael told you, but we were never in danger of being evicted. I paid the rent on our place for the next three months, two weeks ago. I had just done a fabulous party for a friend of mine and received my fee, plus a hefty bonus. So I had my own cash, and didn't want to squander it. Although truthfully, I did see this darling outfit at my day job that I am dying to get, which will happen sometime in the near future. Ted has been working with me on my finances, because I asked him to. I'm hoping to get my side business fully off the ground soon. So no, I didn't borrow money from Michael here... In fact, he borrowed it from me. The question we should both be asking is: what the money he borrowed was used for?"

I watch as his eyes well up with tears, while he looks at me dumbfounded and a little hurt. Frankly after what Brian and I talked about in the company of Jennifer Taylor this afternoon, this troubles me to no end. I am so pissed off on Justin's behalf that I can spit fire and chew nails! What's worse is that instead of getting all the facts, Debbie is once again blindly siding with Michael, as if Justin is the one who was wrong. I suppose that's because she isn't aware of what her ‘baby' has really been up to, so she wouldn't know how many of his spun tales are fact or what's fiction.

"Well, Michael... what exactly did you use my money for?" Debbie asks again, as Michael shakes his head in disbelief that she actually has the audacity to ask. 

"I ran behind on some bills," he says quietly, but Debbie isn't letting up.

I, for one, don't feel bad one damn ounce for giving her my part of the story. I keep thinking that if we all did this before, instead of letting Michael play innocent or victim, maybe she wouldn't be so quick to think the worst of us, while protecting her offspring from his own bullshit.

"Come on, Baby. You can tell me," she tries to wheedle him, and it's all I can do not to vomit up my Crabcakes and Cosmos from lunch.

"You might as well tell her, Michael," I say. "I mean, you're already in the hole for hoarding over 80% of the Rage profits all for yourself. So what could you possibly need money for, since your business- the Rage side that is- is doing so well. Even without Justin's share of the money, the sales would have allowed you to take care of everything, and still have some money left over."

"Wait! What did you say, Emmett?" Debbie asks me. "How much is Justin asking Michael to pay back?"

"Roughly about two hundred, but that doesn't include the most recent sales from last night."

"Justin is pitching a bitch over two hundred dollars?! I can't believe this shit," Debbie rants, before I stop her.

"No, Deb. Justin is 'pitching a bitch' as you say, over two hundred THOUSAND dollars."

"WHAT? I can't believe a comic is worth that much money," Deb screeches.

"But it's not just the comic, is it, Michael?" At his continued silence, I tell Deb what she really doesn't know. "It's everything Rage-related: comic books, dolls, t-shirts, sweatshirts, notebooks, book bags, coffee mugs, Halloween costumes, jackets, phone cases and key chains. Oh, and let's not forget the video game being developed, or the actual website which does business all times of the day and night, as well as the copyrights to both the story and artwork. With gay marriage becoming legal here in the U.S. it's no longer an underground, naughty thing to have. Rage has gone global in a very short time, which if you think about it is simply amazing. Justin's story is a major draw and the artwork in it is worthy of the masters.

"In short, Michael has been cheating Justin out of money since the very beginning, acting as some sort of puppet master. I hate to be the one to tell you this, Deb, but that kind of greed adds up. And your baby boy here is either going to have to pay up, or lose everything. Even if he wanted to get another artist to draw Rage, Justin holds the copyright. So none of the characters that are there now could be used as a blueprint without his express permission."

I watch Debbie's stunned face as she processes what I've told her. Michael is still looking down at the counter, refusing to face me or his mother. "I thought you said that Justin didn't own anything."

Again, I feel compelled to answer Deb. "Hell yeah. He basically owns Michael's ass. The artwork and web design are Justin's alone. And what's funny is, that all of this was explained to Michael before he even signed the contract. But in his arrogance and pettiness, Michael never really verified what the fine print said. Did you, Michael?"

"It was just a bunch of bullshit that no one understands," Michael sneered.

"Now that's not true and you know it, since Melanie explained it to you. Basically she told you that the bold print on any contract gives you things, but the fine print takes them away. No, your problem was that you didn't think that Justin would ever notice; that he would be fine with the crumbs you threw at him. You fucked up when you decided to ruin his relationship with Brian."

"Is that what this is about?" Debbie screeched again.

"Not exactly, but I wouldn't blame Justin if it was a vendetta of some sort. It's no secret that Michael was between Brian and Justin more than he was present in his own relationship with Ben, and even before that while Michael was still doing Doctor David. But this is about business, Deb. Do you know that Justin went to his father to ask for the money to continue on at PIFA?"

"Oh my God, poor Sunshine. I can just about imagine what that meeting was like. Michael, if you and Justin were making money hand-over-fist like that, why didn't you give him his money?"

I'm glad that Debbie is beginning to see what her son has really been up to. She, Ben, and Vic have all told her nosy, interfering offspring to stay out of Brian and Justin's problems numerous times. But Michael never listens! And because he doesn't, I still can't help but be a little pissed at Michael on Justin's behalf. So yeah, there is no more sympathy for his pathetic ass left within me!

"Go on, Michael. Tell her why not," I goad. "Tell her that it was your intention that Justin babysits Gus for Lindsay while she draws Rage. Tell your mom how you were punishing Justin for leaving Brian, even though you worked your ass off to make that happen. Oh and let's not forget that you were pissed at Justin for having a relationship with Brian, in the first place.  But let's move on to let your mother know what she really wants to know, shall we? Do tell her what you have done with ALL the money: both the money I supposedly owe you, and what you have squandered Justin's share of the profits on. Deb, doesn't the store look good?"

Debbie looked around, noticing all the little changes inside of Red Cape Comics as if seeing it for the first time. And perhaps she is. There is new lighting over the pristine glass cabinets, with shiny new locks to house Michael's collectibles. The counter is now marble and the windows as well as the flooring are completely new. The place still smells of fresh paint, which Michael had done while he was in Florida and Las Vegas for the latest Comic Cons.

So Debbie wants to know where her money has gone, does she? It went to a few new items that are being proudly displayed in the second half-full area, behind the counter. Well, I hope that Michael is prepared to lose all of this soon, because I highly doubt that he has much money left. And since Justin put a ‘Cease and Desist' order up, Michael is powerless to recoup any of Justin's money. There's no way in hell the store can provide the influx of cash with the ratatat and claptrap he sells outside of Rage.

"Yeah, now that you mention it, Emmett, the place is really looking amazing and... Wait a minute! Is this where Justin's money has gone? Is it?! Answer me, Michael!" She yells at him, and slaps him upside the head.

"Owww... okay! Yes, some of it has gone into improving MY store." 

"And the rest? Where the fuck is the rest?!"

"Gone! That's all you need to know," Michael whines, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. I have never wanted to slap him more in our lives as friends than I do in this moment.

"Fuck that! You will answer me, Michael or so help me God, you will never ever get another penny from me even if you're evicted in just your Captain Astro underwear! Now, where the fuck is Justin's money?!"

He appeared to be thinking about what she was really telling him, before he exhaled a deep sigh. "Fine. The rest of it was used for my business trips, and to up the package with the publisher. Since Rage is doing so well, we needed to increase printing. Justin would never understand how much it costs to actually run a business. He's just a greedy little kid with no responsibilities to anyone, but himself. Meanwhile, I incur expenses just to open the store daily. Plus Ben and I are thinking about buying a house. So I needed money for my share of the down payment."

"So let me get this straight... you are sacrificing Justin for your life with Ben?" she asks him.

Michael shrugged. "Why not, since he sacrificed Brian's life in exchange for Ethan?" And then he stopped, realizing what he just said. "I didn't mean that. I... I..." He barely ducked out of the way when Debbie's hand swung out again. "You can't be hitting me, Ma. I'm over thirty!"

"When you act like you're that old, I'll stop hitting you like I did when you were five! Now you listen to me, you little asshole. You get Justin's money, and you get it fast! Do you know how much fucking trouble you're in?! What if Justin really makes good on pressing charges against you? You could do time in jail, all because you were- ARE- being a fucking idiot!"

Michael snickered then. "Justin would never do that. Not if he wants Brian back, he won't."

I couldn't help but chime in then. "What is that supposed to mean, Michael?"

"We all know that Boy Wonder can't think for himself." Michael answered.

"I will never know where you got that idea, especially since he's suing you for fucking with him. Brian has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, come on. You really expect me to believe that?!" Michael sneered.

"It doesn't matter what I believe. But since I just know he was the first person you called after getting the summons, what did Mr. Kinney say?" I noticed how Michael looked away again, but it was Debbie who answered me.

"He told my dumbass son here that he wasn't going to talk to Justin on Michael's behalf, or get involved in any way."

"Did you believe him, Deb?"

She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, before she spoke again. "Brian Kinney is many things, but a liar isn't one of them. I almost feel sorry for him because my idiotic son has put him in the middle of all this."

"What are you talking about?! He isn't even seeing Justin anymore! In fact, no one has seen that little shit for months," Michael added, although I really wish he would shut the hell up. He just keeps pissing me off, but again I am saved from answering.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't care about him anymore, Michael. Really? I wonder who you are right now. I know I raised you better than this."

"Ma..."

"Don't you ‘Ma' me, Michael. You find a way to fix this shit, because now I fully understand why your best friend wants to stay out of it. Too bad you couldn't be bothered to do the same when it came to him and Justin."

I followed Deb out of Red Cape Comics, hellbent on not being alone with Michael right now. Fortunately for me, I got a call to plan another party. So while Deb heads to the Diner, I'm on my way to the Schickle estate. Had that call come in earlier, I might have been able to ask Brian to extend my use of his car service. I'll call him later though, and fill him in on all the details of the afternoon.

I know that it won't help him, and Baby get back together. But in lieu of our conversation this morning, it may help set his mind and heart at ease. Poor Brian. With friends like Michael and Lindsay, who the hell needs enemies? I just hope that whatever happens, Brian and Justin find their way back to each other.

They are both just so fucking miserable otherwise.

Daphne

I really am concerned about Justin. The fact that he didn't go home last night but wouldn't tell me, of all people, where he was, speaks volumes. But without proof, I dare not even hint at my suspicions. I can only hope that he has somehow come to his senses and left that phony arrogant asshole to go back to the Original. Brian Kinney.

The thing about Brian that I most admired- and still do- is that he owns his shit. There's none of that ‘well it was his fault', or ‘her fault', or ‘I wasn't aware of what I was doing' bullshit. Whereas he may not be completely honest with himself, he sure as hell is honest about himself. Ethan Gold- pretentious jackass extraordinaire- is a different matter altogether. Countless times I've asked Justin what the fuck he was doing with the little bastard, and he would always tell me ‘Daph, I'm not doing anything... yet.'

That right there was a clear indication to me that Ethan was trying some twinkie-la-la bullshit on Justin.

So there is no way I can sit here, and not regret that I didn't run straight to Brian and tell him that both he and Justin were being fools. This is the first time that I was honestly caught between my loyalty to my best friend, and my constantly growing friendship with Brian. I knew that Justin was headed for emotional trouble... And I said nothing. So really, what kind of friend does that make me?

"Hey, what are you over there thinking about?" Phoebe, a mutual friend of mine, Justin, and Ethan asks me.

Ironically, Phebes went to school with Justin and me, but it wasn't until after the bashing that she and I became solid friends. It turns out that she was a volunteer at Allegheny General for over a year before Justin was attacked. So when she heard about what Hobbs had done to Justin, she would spend as many hours visiting him as I would, getting things for Mrs. Taylor and me so that we could watch Justin's therapies or visit with him. She also helped the nurses on duty with him when the moments in the hospital became intense. Our friendship solidified the day that fucking Michael had returned from Portland and he had shown up at the hospital.

The condescending way he spoke to Justin when he'd asked for Brian still burns my ass. ‘You don't need to worry about where he is, Justin. The fact is that Brian isn't coming, so you need to concentrate on getting better so you can move on.'

I wanted to deck the motherfucker for saying that. We had all been in the same situation with Justin, but knew enough about his reactions to redirect his thoughts with a follow-up question. Michael had been told to do the same, but what did he do? He deliberately goaded Justin, while seeming to look innocent in the process. God, I hate him! I always have hated him for the way he treated Justin. And I still do! But first, it's time to answer Phebes.

"I was just thinking about this mess with Brian, Justin, and Ethan." I said, before taking a sip of my coffee. "I just don't understand what Justin is thinking."

"Ethan was pretty upset that he couldn't find Justin last night," she tells me. "He sounded really worried when he called me to find out if I had seen him."

I couldn't help the breath that huffed out in response to her statement. "Trust me when I tell you, it wasn't Justin's well-being that he was concerned about."

"How do you know that?"

"Phoebe, if there is one reason for Ethan Gold to worry, it is the possibility that Justin has wised up and is talking with Brian again."

"Why would he, though? Ethan told me that Justin left Brian because he was a whore and a shitty boyfriend."

I nearly choked on my drink when I heard what that little shit had said about Brian. "Let's get this straight... Brian is a slut, not a whore; there is a big difference. He doesn't get paid to fuck, although from what I hear they really should begin a cover charge for the Backroom of Babylon, since Brian is a regular in there. But he fucks for the pure enjoyment of it. Besides, that particular thought of Ethan's isn't true. And Brian wasn't a shitty boyfriend to Justin. Emotionally stunted, yes. But shitty? Not at all!"

"Ethan said that he constantly cheated on Justin," Phoebe tells me, as if it is already fact.

"No. He never cheated on Justin. In fact, it was Justin who ended up cheating. They have- had- an open-relationship. So it's not cheating if the other person knows in advance about your sexual exploits with other people. The core of the rules were: no kissing others on the mouth, no names or numbers exchanged with tricks and you can't fuck a trick more than once. Justin broke all of those. And although I hate that he did, I also understand why he did it. Justin hasn't been... the same, since the bashing."

"He looks fine to me. But why would Ethan lie to me about something like this? He and I are as close as you and Justin. Even though I'm friends with all of you, I've known Ethan since we were seven years old. He has no reason to lie to me. Maybe you've just misinterpreted how things really were between Justin and Brian."

I bristled a little at that. I mean I could understand her loyalty to that violin-playing pain in the ass, since I feel the same way about Justin. But I draw the line at someone telling me that I don't know my friends, simply on the word of someone who has the abject need to make himself look good. Which he isn't! Time for me to burst that little fucking bubble of 'Ethan Says' right now! "Phoebe, let me tell you exactly how Brian and Justin's relationship- or non-relationship as they tend to call it- went..."

And for the next half an hour, I tell her everything I know from beginning to end. Most of it was from what I observed between the two of them, so that I wouldn't betray any of Justin's confidences. But most of all, I told her what she had witnessed at the prom, and how Brian had come to be there in the first place. That night was supposed to be a declaration to Justin. But in the end, it went tragically wrong.

I told her about Justin's recovery, the part that she didn't see after he left the hospital. I spoke of how Brian put himself at emotional risk while he was trying to help Justin recover his memory. I told her of their fuck-ups and Justin's insecurity. And then I told her exactly what was going on with Justin, strictly from my point-of-view. By the time I finished, she undoubtedly had a clearer picture of what it was like to be the friend of Brian and Justin, pre-Ethan.

"Wow! I mean, I knew some of that, but Ethan was vague on many of the details even though I knew when he and Justin began spending more time together. He made it sound as if he was trying to save Justin from an emotionally abusive relationship."

"Ethan would make it sound like he was some sort of hero, because if he was completely honest, he would have to own up to deliberately going after someone who was in a relationship. Which was something he knew, by the way," I couldn't keep the sneer from my voice. It still fucks with my nerves to think of all Ethan did to get Justin, and the fact that Justin bought the bullshit. Before she or I could continue our conversation, Justin had arrived.

"Hey. What are you two gossiping about?" He asked, as he took his seat next to me. 

"You. And you look like shit, by the way. So, where have you been or should I be asking who have you been with?" I respond.

Justin took his own sip of coffee, and I couldn't help but notice the tremble in his right hand as he did so. It was different than it usually is if he had overworked it. Something was up.  He sighed before answering, "I saw Brian this morning while I was down at the triangle. He'd had lunch with my mom."

"What was that about?" Again, the sip of hot liquid. I know that he's stalling for time and honestly, it makes me want to knock the cup out of his hand so that he can concentrate on answering my questions immediately, instead of taking his time to formulate the answer. He's been doing that so much lately that it's beginning to get unnerving. "Justin, answer the question. Why were your mom and Brian meeting?"

"Okay... okay," he says, and lets out this long-suffering sigh. "It turns out that they were there to discuss the situation with Michael. Emmett was there too, although I'm not sure why. But you might as well know that I'm suing the fucker. Brian had Mel and Ted go over the contract and account books for Rage yesterday. The fucker has been cheating me big time."

Phoebe chimed in. "Why? I thought you guys were friends, so why would Michael do something like that to you? Surely he knew that it was illegal."

Justin laughed, but there wasn't any humor in the sound. In fact, it sounded hurt, angry, and bitter. I had only heard that sound once before when we were in Woody's just after Brian had canceled the trip to Vermont, having to go to Chicago on a business trip. We didn't find out until much later that it was in order to keep his job. But anyway...

I had said to him that regardless of how it looked or what Brian said or didn't say, that he really loved Justin. Justin, in turn, laughed bitterly telling me that ‘Brian doesn't love me; he likes to fuck me, but he doesn't love me.' That sound sent a chill up my spine then, as it does now. And judging by the state of his affairs right now, I don't like it.

"Whether it was illegal or not, in Michael's mind, any way to punish me while he's benefitting from it is the right thing to do. I would say that this started as a result of my break-up with Brian, but I would be wrong since it was being done from the very beginning."

"What are you talking about?" I ask him, because prior to this whole Ethan fiasco, things seemed on the up and up where Rage was concerned. There was a contract and Justin had done all he could to make it succeed, including starting the website using money from three months worth of tips when he worked at the Diner.

"I trusted that Michael had honor, which was a huge mistake on my part. So I didn't bother to check behind him. I fucking should have, since he's been pocketing over 80% of sales since all things Rage began. I just thought that since it was a new comic, it was taking time to grow. How stupid of me."

I reached out to touch his hand. The look on his face is completely hurt and dejected; a far cry from the Justin Taylor that I know and love. "You weren't stupid, Justin. Maybe a little naive when it came to accepting supposed olive branches given by someone, who was just as invested in the comic as you were. But no, you weren't stupid. So what is the plan now?"

"I'm taking the fucking store."

"That's a bit extreme, isn't it?" Phoebe asks him. "That's his livelihood, Justin."

The frown in his eyes spoke volumes, even before he lowered his voice in a very controlled manner. "He's taken everything from me Phebes- more than you could know or could understand."

"Is this just some revenge about Brian?"

Phoebe really needs to shut up! She has no idea about the can of verbal whoopass she is about to open up. But I am surprised by Justin's answer, although I probably shouldn't be. "I will not deny that revenge is part of it, but there is more. With the money that Michael had been willingly withholding from me, I could have been fairly independent by now. I certainly wouldn't have been living with Ethan."

"What exactly does that mean? I thought you were happy living there with him. And you bought a jeep, so obviously you are doing pretty well."

He stared at her for a little longer than necessary. I could tell that he was keeping an iron-clad control on his temper, even if she can't. But in all fairness, she really doesn't understand Justin's way of living before and while with Brian, to what he's currently living in now. I don't know that he is in the mood to explain the difference either. Again, he surprised me by answering her in a reasonably calm tone.

"I bought the jeep out of necessity. Sure I can walk to work, but it takes over forty-five minutes to do so. In inclimate weather, it takes even longer. I can also take the bus, but that isn't something that I want to do. Been there, done that, don't need any reminders of what that was like. So I decided that filling up the gas tank, and paying the insurance would save me money. Plus it is a tax write-off, so it's just good business.

"As far as living with Ethan... the thing is that there are times when I just need my space, and Ethan likes to hover. I hate that I have to share a shower with all the other residents on the floor and that there is never enough hot water when I get there. It also feels like I have more value to Ethan as a live-in housekeeper, since he is probably the messiest person I have ever lived with, including my sister. In short, I need to have my own place now."

I couldn't sit there, and not ask the question that I'm dying to know. Justin just doesn't look well-rested to me. "Are the nightmares back?" He startles at the question, and I know that I'm right.

"They are."

"You know how to cure them again, don't you?"

Justin nods at me even as he says, "I can't go back there, Daph. You and I both know that, so I have to learn to manage them on my own. But I will not ask anyone's permission to have a fucking meltdown after them. Nor will I sit idly and be told that I need to get over them and simply go back to sleep, or be given a host of other suggestions that would make me so overtired that I don't dream."

I couldn't help but gasp at what he was telling me. "He said those things?"

"That and more. But I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay?"

I look him in the eyes, and I know what he's telling me. Phoebe can unintentionally be a dicta-bird when it comes to Ethan. Again, I can't fault her for her loyalty but I also understand that Justin needs his privacy, especially regarding these particular nightmares... And the only man, who has ever been able help him through it.

"So you're suing Michael?"

"I am if he doesn't come up with the money."

"How much?" both Phebes and I asks him.

"Let's just say that I would have never gone to see Craig Taylor about paying my tuition for the semester, if I had my fair share of Rage."

"What the hell? Michael must be off his fucking rocker! Not only that, but where is he going to get the money to pay you back? I'm almost willing to bet that he spent it on toys. I can't believe that Ben is with that... That..."

"Child," Justin supplies for me, even though I know both he and I would use far more colorful phrases to describe that whiny fuck. "Phoebe, don't tell Ethan about this, okay?"

"Why not? I'm sure he would want to help you through this," she suggests.

Again, that bitter laugh springs forth, with the same result resonating within me. I take it upon myself to explain it to her to spare Justin from having to be nice. "Phebes, I hate to break it to you, but Ethan is a jealous, spiteful, and manipulative asshole. Anything that brings Justin into contact with what he considers Justin's former older friends is a cause for contention between them. Now you wouldn't want to be the source of Ethan becoming a clingy, judgmental, scheming twit, would you?" Contrary to her own unpopular belief, Ethan is all those things and more. But I'll let her live in parts of her delusion for the sake of her own sanity... For now, at least.

"Daphne, he just loves Justin so much. I'm sure that if Justin would tell him he would..."

"No, he won't," Justin tells her. "Ethan and Michael are the reasons I stopped working at a place where I was established since high school. They made it so uncomfortable for me to live as normally as I could, in a place that has always represented safety for me. Ethan and Michael- both jealous and manipulative for different reasons- forced me to choose between them and myself. They still do and I'm tired of it! I know that you don't really understand everything; hell I don't understand everything either. But please keep this to yourself.

"Besides, above all Ethan has the Heifetz coming up and you have auditions for yourself, too. So concentrate on that, not my problems. If everything goes well for both of you, this will be but a pebble in the pond, and long forgotten amid all the excitement. So if you won't keep my secrets for me, then do it for Ethan. This competition means so much to him. He doesn't need the added stressof my life to distract him from achieving his goals."

And me too, Justin didn't say, but I heard it anyway. I can tell that what Justin said had finally broken through her innocently stubborn, see-the-best-in-everyone psyche. If it ever came down to brass tacks, I know that she would choose Ethan over Justin any day, since I would do the same for Justin.

"Okay," Phoebe promised him, and I could see the relief flow through Justin.

Now if only I can find a way to get my two favorite men back together, all would be right in my own world.   

Melanie

She's been on the fucking phone with that whiny bastard for over an hour. I keep sitting here at the dining room table, going over these legal briefs, and pretending not to notice the looks of disappointment and the angry daggers shooting my way whenever Michael tells her something else involving business that is NOT hers or his. I don't know who Lindsay thinks she's fooling, but it certainly isn't me! The bottom line is that I can't discuss this with her since Justin is paying me... Or better yet Brian is, but she doesn't need to know that.

What she and Michael need to understand is that just because Justin doesn't come around anymore, does not mean that we ALL wrote him out of our lives.

I don't know the full story yet, but from the bits and pieces I garnered to make some sense of what I am understanding to be a farce of a break-up, Michael and Lindsay have a lot of nerve and a lot to answer for. I nearly fucking decked her yesterday, when she suggested that Justin should be Gus' babysitter while she drew Rage. I mean, what the hell?! I love Lindz- I really do- but she doesn't have even a tenth of the talent housed inside of her entire being that Justin has just within his pinky nail. I was more than happy to review the contract that I had written up between Justin and Michael, if for no other reason than to keep Lindsay from embarrassing herself.

Investigating Michael's part in this... well that's a different story.

First, let me issue a disclaimer: I don't hate Michael. Sure, he is immature and can be extremely clingy and territorial of Brian, even though I can't imagine why. But outside of those qualities, I would like to think that he had inherited the caring spirit he tends to display, from his mother. The problem is that within the last twenty-four hours, my professional opinion of him is warring with everything he presents to the world. How exactly did Michael think that Justin wouldn't notice the missing money sooner rather than later, especially with everything going on between him and Brian?

It truly boggles the mind, especially if you know Justin Taylor! But maybe that's really the problem. Michael and Lindsay are guilty of just seeing a kid, while the rest of us have really gotten to meet and respect the intelligence behind his innocent facade. Hell, he would have had to be intelligent to keep Brian dancing to his tune. Whether it was obvious to Justin or not, those of us who viewed them without the jaundiced eyes of the two unbest best friends saw it. 

But that critical piece of BJ History is less important right now than the situation at hand. The fact is that Michael is either really smart, or he's really, REALLY stupid with an extraordinary mean streak. I'm leaning more towards the latter, and that is truly what's worrying me. Because of this, I now even find myself worrying for Ben, even if I don't know him very well. Michael is not only acting like a child throwing a tantrum, but he's also acting a lot like a scorned lover.

This is the kind of shit divorce attorneys cream over: a jealous ex- be it husband or wife- who basically cleaned out their ex's bank account, to keep the next lover from getting a penny of it. Only this shit is happening in reverse! Michael withheld many thousands of dollars, seemingly in punishment for Justin having a relationship with Brian in the first place. What the fuck? I mean, is Brian Kinney a bridge where the troll named Michael Novotny mandates payment before the billy goat named Justin can get to him?

Or maybe Brian is a prime piece of waterfront real estate, where the fees to build on him are so astronomical that no one except Justin would be willing to jump through all sorts of hoops to own him? Not that Justin would ever try to own Brian in the way Michael and Lindsay would love to mind, but... Whichever metaphor it is, I can tell you one thing, this has the vindictive mark of not only Michael Novotny, but Lindsay Peterson, written all over it.

"Mel, how could you? Michael is our friend."

"So is Justin," I answer her, without looking up from my work.

"Michael was our friend first, Melanie. I don't think that you should have involved yourself."

I look up then, because I can't believe that she is really trying to reprimand me for number one: doing my job, and number two: calling Michael on his bullshit. "Well since Justin is paying me, and has been paying a retainer fee to me since going into business with Michael, I can honestly say that I don't give a damn what you or Michael think. Not only that, but I really don't have to discuss this with you since it is against the law. If I were you, I would at least try to hear both sides of the story before I side with one over the other."

"Like you're doing?" she huffs sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Not really Lindz, since I actually know both sides of the story."

"How? You wouldn't even talk to Michael. You just told him that he isn't allowed to continue his business."

Does she really think I don't know what she's doing? I can sling guilt just as much as she can. Hell, I was born Jewish and no one does guilt quite like the females of my culture. "Nice try, Lindz. But you are forgetting a few details. Number one: I drew up the contract between them so I know what it says. Number two: I did give Michael some free legal advice, as his friend. And number three, which is probably going to get your thong twitching further up your ass, is that this doesn't concern you. Or does it?"

"What is that supposed to mean, Melanie? I was just lending a comforting ear to a friend in need."

I giggled. "Sure you were, Lindsay, and I don't doubt that you thought you were. By chance, did Michael mention how much he owes Justin?" I'm seriously curious about this.

"Of course, he did! And two hundred thousand dollars is outrageous for a mere comic book."

I outright laughed then. "You know, you should really do some research before you pick a side, Lindsay. Although I can't discuss the entire case with you and I won't, I will tell you that your ass is getting away fucking lucky that you aren't being included in the lawsuit. I know that you are the true fucking puppet master, pulling Michael's strings; I've watched you long enough to know the signs. But you see, you two miscalculated just how intelligent Justin Taylor really is. There was a reason that he didn't go to Dartmouth..."

"Yeah. Brian," she sneered.

"Showing your true feelings much, Lindsay? Careful! Your WASP mask is going to slip and everyone will see how mean and vindictive you can actually be."

"Oh come on, Melanie! What's with the accusations?"

"Just calling it as I see it, Lindsay. But for the record, Justin didn't go to Dartmouth because he didn't need a business degree. Justin was, and is fully capable of taking care of his own affairs just fine."

She huffs, derisively. "You mean Brian is."

I shook my head. She and Michael really do have one-track minds when it comes to Brian Kinney. Sadly, it extends to Justin, which is grossly unfair considering he once considered them both friends. "Let me explain something to you, Lindz, and I want you to really hear me. Justin graduated at the top of his class. Of course, he was unable to attend his graduation thanks to a sociopath with a bat. But that's beside the point. Justin is one of the most intelligent people that of all of us, including Brian, know. Yes he is, and even though you and Michael discount Brian and Justin's relationship as strictly sex, I highly doubt that was the case. I sincerely doubt that he would have been able to score 1500 on his Scholastic Aptitude Test the FIRST time he took it, simply by blowing or riding Brian's cock as you and Michael seem to think. Justin once told me that Brian helped him study all the time, and from that score alone, I believe it. Brian doesn't half-ass his way through life, so it would stand to reason that he wouldn't be attracted to ANYONE who did!

"You know, for someone who claims to love and know Brian, you and Michael tend to forget why I fucking hate him sometimes. It's not only because of his lifestyle, but the fact that the man is so fucking smart! He's basically a man who was born with both beauty and brains, which is something that most aspire to, including me. What I would have had to work my entire ass off for, seems to come so effortlessly to Brian. And it does for Justin Taylor, as well. So, both of you may like to think that Brian is pulling Justin's strings, but the fact is that he isn't. Again, you should be happy that other than offering Michael sad and selfish advice, Justin is not suing you, too. My advice to you is to be thankful for that, and stay the fuck out of Michael's orbit. You don't want to crash and burn with him."

With that last sentence, I get up from the dining room table and collect my stuff. I need to get out of the house for awhile, so I also pack my briefcase. It's not that I'm going to the office; it's that I know Lindsay. She is dying to learn the full terms of Justin and Michael's contract. She can fucking keep guessing because no matter where she searches within the house, she'll never find it since it isn't here.

But I know that won't stop her from looking.

Lindsay is a lot like Michael, only more intelligent and manipulative. Well, Michael and Lindsay are probably going to blow a fuse, when they learn what Brian is up to next. And the fact that Ted and I know before they do, will be cause enough for them to throw their three-year-old tantrums. But to know that there are others involved, including the Taylors and Emmett, well that is going to cause their heads to explode. Is it terrible that I can't wait for that to happen?

As I listen to Lindsay, issuing threats and orders from the front porch as I'm backing out of the driveway, I really can't feel anything but exuberance at the idea that I know something she doesn't know. Yep, being with Lindsay while listening to Michael screeching on the phone for over an hour has officially turned me into a ten-year old, which is alright since my partner and her friend have the mentalities of five-year-olds.

Chapter 9- Teenage Sensation- GusGus

Feel my heart slamming against my ribs/ The smell of your body and the touch of your

lips/ You are beyond all imagination/ You are beyond all imagination

Gee, I love you so much/ I can look and I can touch/ I can touch/ My teenage

sensation/ My teenage sensation/ Your skin must be from another world

My limbs are numbed with your pleasure dome/ For the first time, a revelation

Beyond all imagination/ Gee, I love you so much/ I can look and I can touch

And I think maybe, it's wrong/ How young is too young

My teenage sensation...

Songwriters

Birgir Thorarinsson;Sigurdur Kjartansson;Birgir Sigurdsson

Chapter 9- Teenage Sensation

Brian 

Justin walks into the loft like he still owns the place. It's so different from his first night here that I almost smile. Back in a time that seems light years away, Justin was simply a young ingenue who I couldn't wait to introduce to the world of carnal delights. I should have known then that he was going to bring my well-ordered existence crashing down around my ears. If I believed in the Bible, I would have termed Justin as my very own apple.

It was that fucking mythical piece of forbidden fruit that caused all the havoc, according to the church scholars. And Justin Taylor has been the reason for the emotional upheaval within my life. As I stand here watching his approach, I think there may be some truth to the theory. A tempting ass and a gorgeous face have been getting men into trouble since the beginning of time. What the fuck could have made me think I would or should have been immune?

At nineteen years old, Justin is far different from the young innocent that chased me around Liberty Avenue. Even now, his eyes scream of a seductive knowledge that I know isn't necessarily reserved just for me anymore. He prowls around the loft, sure in the knowledge that no matter how fucked up our non-relationship, or arrangement is I still do and always will want him. I wish I could prove him wrong, just this once. But Justin has always- on some fundamental level- been on to me.

"Strip," he says as he stands in front of me. At first, I wasn't sure that he had actually said it; thought it may have been a figment of my own overactive imagination. I mean, I had only been thinking about having his body in my arms again since I left him earlier on the boardwalk. So when he says it again in that low-pitched voice, which always slides across every cell within my body, I can't help but want to comply immediately. But I can't... yet.

"Are we really not going to talk?" I have to know, because even now, I'm thirsty for the easy banter between us that used to be. 

"No we aren't, since we have nothing to talk about. This is just about us getting our needs met."

"You mean you, don't you?"

"Yes."

That one simple word held a wealth of feeling for me. Justin was never one to really ask for what he wanted, or if he did, I would shoot him down, thereby making his wants and needs a non-issue... well at least for me. The fact that we are acting as little more than strangers at this moment is proof of that. "I'll make a deal with you."

"We've already made our deal, Brian. That is unless you want to renege on it?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are we waiting for? I'm here to get fucked, not conversate. You aren't ever interested in talking to your tricks."

"Is that what you consider yourself to me?" I can't believe that this defiant kid... No, not a kid. Justin hasn't been a kid to me since the morning after I met him. I cannot believe that he and I have been reduced to this... non-communication we have going on. It makes me wonder if Michael and Lindsay were right when they said that all Justin and I had in common was a love of cock. But no, that's not true either, since I can remember the times not so long ago that we actually did have long and extensive conversations about everything... That is everything except what we wanted, and what was causing us to implode. "Answer me, Justin. Is that what you consider yourself to be to me?"

"What else, Brian? If there was anything else, you should have said so. I did ask once, but well... that really doesn't matter now, does it? So are we officially going to become fuckbuddies, or is this over before it even begins?"

Justin begins to take off his clothes, and I am reminded of when I did similar to what he is doing, the first night I met him. Then it was a means of distracting him from his teenage ramblings and whatever other misgivings that were running through his blond little head. But this is Justin's way of employing the same tactics for a different reason. He's not slick, and I am still the master of diversionary tactics, even if Justin- now completely naked- is doing an excellent job of distracting me.

"I- um- I want to change one of the terms," I stammer as he moves closer to me, with that come hither look in his sapphire eyes.

"What is it?" He asks, as he begins unbuttoning my shirt, placing soft kisses as he exposes the skin on my chest.

How the fuck am I supposed to think with him doing that? His lips. His tongue. Oh fuck! His teeth. I have to...

"After we're f-finished, I-I want to ask you something." I can't concentrate with the way he's latched onto my nipple, and is alternately tonguing and sucking it. Justin stops mid-tongue roll and looks up at me, cocking his head to the side, trying to figure out what my angle is. I return the look as openly as I can so that he will know that I am serious. Before he can speak, I tell him, "I need to. Please, Justin."

"Why not just ask me now to get it over with, since you're so determined?"

"Because I can't not have you right now." I say as I grab him roughly, and all thoughts of talking fly out of my head as I press my lips to his.

There was no way this was going to be gentle, and I don't think Justin minds that at all. He practically purred as I hastily divested myself of my own clothes, needing to feel his alabaster skin against mine. Moving him backwards, I kiss him roughly and repeatedly as he meets my lips with equal fervor. I couldn't get enough of him nor could I wait to have him again. The steps leading to the bed are just way too much to traverse in this moment so I settle him on the nearest flat surface, the dining room table.

The ‘umph' that was torn from the back of his throat was music to my ears, as I reach under the table to slide out the hidden drawer with my emergency supplies in it. Preparing Justin as I slip on and lube up the condom, I almost cream on myself as I realize he's helping me by sticking one of his own fingers inside himself, right beside the two I'm already stretching him with. My little boy can't wait either, and fuck it all! I'm so gratified by that.

Laying him back on the table, I hastily put his long legs on my shoulders and slide him back down the table towards my waiting cock. I feel, as well as see, the deep inhale and slow exhale as I push in and slide through the outer rim into the cavern of paradise that I know has been waiting for my return. At first, I take it slow because no matter how anxious I am to hit bottom, I don't want to hurt him. Fucking Justin is an event to be savored, and I intend to do just that. As my shallow thrusts become deeper, I feel his legs tightening around my neck.

I can't help but turn my head and bite his calf hard, then lick away the sudden stinging pain. Justin's slight gasp turned into a full-on moan as I continued my assault within him, while still adding little bites to his legs. I could feel one of his toes caressing my ear lobe, and I'm unable to stop the giggling groan escaping me. It was something he did that first night and no matter how many times we have been in this particular position, it never fails to make me respond. I begin to move inside Justin in earnest, feeling him close around me, trying to keep me within him as long as he can.

The constant squeeze and release of his ass milking my cock causes me to move faster and harder until I'm hammering his prostate.

I can tell he's enjoying it, not only from the grunts and groans coming from him, but because he's covering his eyes. I swat his hands away as I usually do, when he tries to prevent me from seeing too much. I don't want Justin hiding his pleasure from me. I don't want him hiding anything from me! Would that I had realized this months ago, then we wouldn't have been relegated to this fast and furious fuckfest.

Justin is bending himself even more in half than he was already, making me go deeper and harder within him. I hear the breath ‘whoosh' out of him as I angle my dick to nail his prostate from a different direction. Over and over, I hear him moan my name like a mantra, a curse, and a prayer and it's driving me crazy with the constant need and want of him. Nothing and no one has ever felt like Justin... And nothing and no one ever will!

I feel the first waves of the climatic contractions flowing in my gut; the answering call rippling throughout his body. I couldn't help but speed up, even as my hand reached out to grasp his. I have never done that with anyone else, only Justin. This was my way of always knowing that he was with me, that he was focused solely on me, that I was the one with him. He laced his strong fingers into mine, holding onto me as he shut his eyes, absorbing all of the sensations buffeting him at once.

I could feel him cresting, the quickening within him coming in faster and flowing to me. As I jackhammered into him for the last time, I finally felt his own tribute between us. His spent cock continued to twitch and relieve itself even as he pulled me closer against him, using his legs to hold me tight. Our lips met in a kiss meant to soothe and calm, but in reality, enflamed us again. I knew that although we were both willing, there was just no way we were going to make it to round two this soon.

So I took advantage of the situation, and asked the one question that has been burning deep within my gut for months. "How did we get here, Justin?"

At first, I didn't think he was going to answer me. He just stared for a minute, and then closed his eyes again. When he opened them, I could see the tears he was doing his damndest to hold back. I realized that I taught him that; taught him to conceal his emotions, even when there was no need to. He took his legs from my shoulders, letting them fall open and off to the side, before shifting beneath me.

I withdrew my condom-covered member from his body, but didn't move away from him. Somehow I knew, even with him being on top of the table, that if I didn't get this answer now I probably never would.

Justin inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before answering. "The answer to that question is simple, Brian. We simply stopped talking, and then I stopped trying. There wasn't a set formula, nor right or wrong answer to how we fell apart. Just that we did."

I rolled his soft-spoken words around in my head for awhile, before I spoke again. "There were a lot of things I should have told you."

"There wasn't a need to, Brian. Or at least, not where you were concerned."

"Okay, I'll give you that." And I will, even if it hurts like hell to admit it now. "But Justin, why did you stop trying? You were never the type to give up on me, on us."

Again the space of ten heartbeats, before he answers. "For awhile, I thought that wasn't what you wanted. I mean, that's basically what I kept hearing from Michael and Lindsay. For a person- the shell of a person- who I was at the time, it was a lot to take in. I kept feeling like Michael was right, in that you had only taken me in because of the bashing." I started to speak, but he held up his hand for me to let him finish. So I do. "I know now that he wasn't correct, but I had already been having some major issues of my own. I was so fucking angry at everything and everyone, especially myself. And then there was you, too. And I was sad. I felt like I wasn't good enough anymore. I wasn't little Mr. Perfect Prep-school boy, who had managed to attract Big Bad Brian. So whatever was said or done; whatever was unsaid or undone during that time, I took to heart."

I thought about all of Justin's actions post-bashing, and could honestly see where I had missed some opportunities to readjust his opinion of himself... And those of me. That kind of negligence allowed for Michael and Lindsay to reinforce his low opinions of himself, as well as allowed a ratty trenchcoat wearing, fiddle-playing fucker to worm his way into Justin's already bruised psyche. As for my own actions... Well...

Those are a little more difficult to explain.

I just wanted us to go back to the way we were before everything went to shit. I wanted US back before Chris Hobbs' bat took away what was supposed to be a perfect night, and a new beginning for us. I wanted to pretend that we were the same Brian and Justin, the two people who could speak volumes inside of the silence, and still get each other. But we weren't the same, and there was nothing I could do to fix what was cracked between us at first, but the exploded into a bunch of unresolved fragments before we even really registered it was happening. But I have to know now...

"Why didn't you ever talk to me about it?"

He snickered. "Fuck, Brian. I can't even believe that you just asked me that. You weren't exactly the poster boy for serious conversations a few months ago. King of avoidance? Absolutely. King of Diversionary Tactics? Definitely. But never a connoisseur of conversation, unless it was some other topic that didn't include us as ‘Brian and Justin- couple.' How was I supposed to broach the subject?"

And you know what? I don't have an answer for him, because he's right. I wasn't willing to open myself up to his close scrutiny. Unlike Michael, Justin wouldn't have talked the subject to death, but he would have wanted answers to some very difficult questions. Even now, I'm not sure what to say to him, or how to answer his last question.

Justin must have figured that out as well, since he's squirming for me to let him up. I do, and all of a sudden, I feel the loss of his body heat even more keenly than I did before. Sadly, it has nothing to do with the fact that I am standing here naked, while watching him redress himself preparing to leave again. But it's that we have now been reduced to stolen moments, and perfunctory pleasure instead of the ease we once had. He had almost made it to the door, when we hear the banging on the loft door, and the screech of my best friend demanding entry.

At first, Justin looks startled, like a deer caught in headlights and I realize immediately what the problem is. Per our agreement, no one is to know of this arrangement. What the fuck are we going to do? If Michael knows, the world knows and based on the level of banging and screeching, there is no way he is going to go away quietly.

Guess I'll have to open up the fucking door.     

CHAPTER 10- For the Love of Money by the O'Jays

Money money money money, money (x6)

Some people got to have it/ Some people really need it/ Listen to me y'all, do

things, do things, do bad things with it/ You wanna do things, do things, do

things, good things with it

For the love of money/ People will steal from their mother/ For the love of

money/ People will rob their own brother/ For the love of money/ People

can't even walk the street/ Because they never know who in the world they're

gonna beat/ For that lean, mean, mean green/ Almighty dollar, money

For the love of money/ People will lie, Lord, they will cheat/ For the love of

money/ People don't care who they hurt or beat/ For the love of money/ A

woman will sell her precious body/ For a small piece of paper it carries a lot

of weight/ Call it lean, mean, mean green/ Almighty dollar

I know money is the root of all evil/ Do funny things to some people/ Give me

a nickel, brother can you spare a dime/ Money can drive some people out of

their minds/ Got to have it, I really need it/ How many things have I heard

you say/ Some people really need it/ How many things have I heard you

say/ Lay down, lay down, a woman will lay down/ For the love of money

All for the love of money/ Don't let, don't let, don't let money rule you/ For

the love of money/ Money can change people sometimes/ Don't let, don't let,

don't let money fool you/ Money can fool people sometimes

People! Don't let money, don't let money change you, it will keep on changing,

changing up your mind

**Written by Kenneth Gamble, Leon Huff, Anthony Jackson • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, T.R.O. Inc.    

Chapter 10- For the Love of Money

Debbie 

I arrived home from work about an hour ago. While Vic and his new boyfriend Rodney are watching the television game show that I really don't want to see, I decided to fix myself a cup of tea and rest my tired feet. Resting my exhausted mind is simply not an option, in lieu of all that I found out this afternoon about my son. I'm sitting here trying to figure out how I raised... How Michael had become such an arrogant, entitled, spoiled, and selfish little shit to have stolen two-hundred thousand dollars from the one person out of the group that needed it the most?

Honestly, if it had been Brian, I probably wouldn't have felt so bad. Sure it still would have been wrong. But with the bonuses Brian receives from each account, and now his partnership with that fancy-schmancy advertising agency Vanguard, I'm sure he could make it back while fucking in the backroom, high out of his mind, or asleep after a night of the same. But to do that to Justin, and from what Emmett said, it's been happening over a period time rather than just the last five months... Well that was just something else!

"What's up, Sis?" Vic asks me. I didn't even see him get up from the couch, before he took the seat across from me.

"Nothing, Vic. Just tired, I guess."

He nods his head. "I can believe that, except that there is that little crinkle in the middle of your forehead. It tells me that you are thinking much too hard for it to be just a simple case of post-work exhaustion. Don't take this the wrong way, but you're a waitress, so whatever you're thinking so hard about regarding work can't be that bad."

I do my best to erase that particular look from my face, while staring at my near-empty tea cup. Vic's gentle smile tells me that I haven't done a very good job of it. I get a good look at my brother, a man who I sometimes consider as my only friend. His blooming relationship with Rodney has put the sparkle back in his blue eyes; the harsh lines of old age and harder medication are seeming less stressful than they were before. Instead, those effects are being replaced by laugh and smile lines, proving that Rodney has been providing Vic with the kind of TLC only significant others are capable of giving.

I've noticed a few of those in my own face after an evening with Carl, who always makes me feel like I'm in the throes of a schoolgirl crush. But, even though I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around finding out the truth regarding Michael, I don't want to worry Vic with the latest episode of ‘Lifestyles of the Young and Ridiculous.' "I'm okay, sweetheart. It's just been a long day. Are you and Rodney finished watching Jeopardy? How did you both do tonight?"

"He beat me by one question," Vic laughed. My oh my, how I have always loved that robust sound coming from my brother! But then he grew serious again. "Come on, Deb, spill. I know that something is bothering you. I didn't just meet you yesterday, you know."

"No, I suppose you didn't, although sometimes it sure feels like it. I sure wish we could rewind back to the carefree times in our lives- the days of Jefferson Airplane and Grace Slick; the days of the Hustle and Studio 54."

"It's nice to take trips down memory lane, Deb. But something tells me it's some situations that are a little more recent bothering you. So spill already and we'll see what to make of it, okay?"

He looked at me, his eyes pleading to help me through what has me so troubled. I could never resist that look from Victor Grassi and he knew it! It's still amazing to me how well he and I have gotten on all these years after being tossed out by Mom- me for being pregnant with Michael; Vic for being gay. We've made it thus far just fine through the tears, heartaches, and pains, both growing and medical. Vic and I always remained close and honest, so I guess there's no reason to keep this from him either, no matter how much I want to.

Hell, I'm still wishing it was all kept from ME! 

"Michael is in deep shit, Vic."

"Again?" I frowned at him when he said that. "Don't give me that Mom look, Deb. You and I both know that Michael gets into situations that are bigger than himself all the time. So which one of the guys did he piss off this time?"

I should have known that Vic would, at least, draw part of the right conclusion based on what little info I had given. It's more than I can say for myself and my shameful behavior earlier today, standing inside Michael's shop. Inhaling deeply, I exhaled before I breathed the name. "Justin."

"Justin? I thought things were going well between Michael and Justin... or as well as could be now that Sunshine hasn't been around much lately. As far as I know, the ‘Rage' business is booming, which should have kept them both happy. So what is the problem?"

"Money."

"Money?"

"Two-hundred thousand dollars of it, to be exact," I say, shock and disbelief still evident in my voice. Just saying it aloud makes me feel hot and cold at the same time. 

"You've gotta be shitting me? I think Emmett and I are in the wrong business. Comics seem to be much more lucrative than cooking!"

"That's the thing. I found out today that there is so much more to Rage than most of us knew. Michael and Justin of course, but also Brian, Ted, and Mel knew how much the business had grown. Well anyway, it seems that Michael in some fit of pique- I don't know- has been withholding Justin's share of the enormous profits made before and after the break-up. Now Justin is suing him, and he could take the store away from Michael. He already had Melanie obtain a cease and desist order, which prevents Michael from selling anything Rage-related, both physically and online. I have a feeling that Sunshine is not making idle threats against Michael. If he doesn't return or come up with the money in a week, I really believe that Justin will take everything away from Michael."

"I don't blame Justin, and you shouldn't either." I started to protest, but Vic held up his hand to stay the argument. "Before you fly off the deep end, Deb, let me explain something to you... I know you. Anything that has ever threatened Michael; past, present, or future, is going to meet with an angry, opinionated, outspoken Deborah Jane Grassi. Forget the Novotny darling, because you and I both know it doesn't count. So I know that as soon as you received this news before finding out the rest of the facts, you had your say at Brian and Justin's expense. Am I right?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. I always hated when he was right, and the smug looks he often threw my way because of it. I know he needed the words so I said, "Yes, Vic. You're right, but.."

"Uh-huh, Deb. Don't try to justify it, because then that makes you sound just like Michael. I love my nephew- truly, I do- but he is just... Deb, I swear his inner five-year-old has been appearing more and more ever since Brian met Justin. Now, I'm just as guilty, although maybe not to the degree that you are, for ignoring Michael's tantrums. We just considered them a part of his charm. But now it isn't so charming, since instead it has now become criminal."

"What are you saying, Vic? Do you think Sunshine will really file charges against Michael?"

"Take the fact that it's Michael out of the equation, and answer this honestly, Deb... Wouldn't you?"

He got up from the table and headed back over to the couch. I watched as Vic rubbed a gentle hand over Rodney's bent head. He had fallen asleep while Vic and I had our talk. The action of Vic covering the slumbering man gave me a bit of a memory from months ago, so much so that seeing it I had to catch my breath. I remembered going over to the loft one day, not too long after Justin had finally regained some of his memory back.

The entire ordeal had been exhausting for both Brian and Justin. I didn't want Brian worrying about feeding Justin, who although he would leave the loft to go for the occasional walk, it wasn't often that he did during that time. So I had whipped up a batch of Chicken Parmigiana, which Justin had always said he loved. I just wanted them to know that although Michael was mired in his own self pity because Brian didn't have time for him upon my son's return to Pittsburgh, I had not forgotten what they were going through. So I took them some food, intent on seeing how Justin was faring and how Brian was holding up under the weight of work and Sunshine. 

When I arrived at the door, before I even had a chance to knock, Brian was standing there with a single finger pressed against his lips. He nodded his head briefly, indicating the area where his sofa was. In the alcove of the window seat, in front of the huge bay window that I always admired, lay Justin. He was curled into himself like a ball and from my vantage point, I could see that he was cradling his right hand. As I busied myself in the kitchen, gathering other supplies so that my boys could eat, I saw Brian cross the expanse of space, lifting the throw blanket he always kept on the sofa along the way.

Maybe it was the way Brian ruffled Justin's hair as he lay there sleeping, or maybe it was the way Brian had put a pillow under Justin's affected hand, before covering him with the blanket- I don't know. But whatever it was, was the single most important glimpse I had ever received into the quandary that made up Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor as a couple, no matter how unconventional they were. I saw Brian, wearing his heart on his sleeve for the first time in many, many years. It made me both happy and sad that day. Happy because Sunshine, that little persistent kid, had reached a place that none of us were sure existed within Brian; sad, because Sunshine would never know it.

That memory of Brian and Justin, when they didn't know they were being observed, makes this situation with Michael all the more difficult for me to understand. How could he not want to see Brian happy? Wasn't he happy with Ben; why shouldn't Brian have the same? The answer, when it hit me, made me angrier than I think I have ever been with Michael before, even when he basically called me a desperate whore for wanting to spend some time with Carl. That hurt, but I forgave him.

This is a situation that I'm not so sure I can forgive him for... and that realization is hurting worse.

Justin 

Brian and I decided that I would hide out in the bathroom. He said that he would get rid of Michael so that I could go, now that we were finished for the evening. I wasn't so sure how to take that comment, but I know that my choice had brought it on. I could live with that. Thankfully, I had put my phone on vibrate as I was coming up the stairs earlier.

Like it or not, any of my time spent with Brian are moments that I still consider precious. So I didn't want any undue interruptions. And by that I mean, Ethan's constant calls. As desperate as I was for Brian's attention, I cannot remember ever being that clingy. Ethan reminds me of the way Michael is so territorial of Brian's time.

It's unsettling, it's unnerving, and it's a definite PAIN in my ass!

My separate conversation with Daphne after we parted ways with Phoebe is suddenly making more and more sense. I should never have moved in with Ethan, especially when I had just recently been living with Brian. At the time, I didn't see any other viable options. Emmett is looking for a house with Ted and Daph has four other roommates. It's one thing for me to stay there occasionally, if I need a mental break.

But to live there full-time? Ummm... NO!

As I'm checking my text messages- most which are from Ethan, Daph, and Emmett- I hear Michael being his normally whiny, pissant self.

"Oh, Brian, come on already. That's it! You're going out with me tonight," Michael demands, and I can just see his stance of folded arms and pouted lips. God, Gus has more maturity and he's still a few months shy of being two!

"I already told you, Mikey. I'm not going out. I have a major account I'm handling and I need to work." Brian answers in that laconic voice he always uses when he's short on patience.

Indeed, he was working alright, I think to myself while going through the other messages. It was hard to contain my snicker.

"Look, if this is about earlier, I already said that I forgive you for not sticking by me in this whole Justin mess," Michael tells Brian.

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes, even though neither of them could see me.

"There is nothing to forgive, Michael. It's between you and Justin. What I find amazing though is that whereas Justin hasn't called me to talk about this, you have been calling me nonstop to beg, plead, cry, and yell about a situation of your own making. Fix it yourself the way Justin is doing, and leave me alone!"

"Why are you being like this, Brian? I said I that I forgave you. Now can we please forget about Boy Wonder and go out? I need my best friend!"

Again, I can see Michael's scrunched up face, reminiscent of the wrinkled entrance to any anonymous rectum. I mean, he IS a walking, talking, and breathing asshole after all. But now I'm sure that  there are even tears in his eyes, designed to make Brian soften his stance. I can't help but be proud of Brian for not giving into Michael, for once. I would like to think that the argument last night and the almost-civil, post-sex talk we had a few moments before Michael came banging on the door, may have had some sort of impact.

"And I need peace and quiet!" Brian sighs. "Go round up the Professor, or drag Emmett and Ted out of their lovenest to go with you, Mikey. I'm not in the mood." 

"Fine!" Michael yelled. "See if I'll be available for you the next time you need a favor from me!"

"That's okay, Michael, since I don't foresee that happening in the future. I'm amazingly busy at work, which hasn't left me much room for outside entertainment so..."

"Oh, I see. Are you finally replacing that blond boy ass piece of trash who used to live here with a mature man?"

"Michael... Justin was far more mature than any of us, especially you."

"Yeah right," Michael huffs.

"Yes, I am. Which is why when he needed to go, he didn't need to ask my permission or have me hold his hand. He made decisions for himself- the right kind of decisions, I might add- and he's learning to live with them. Perhaps it's time for you to do the same."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"Take it however you want to, Michael. In the meantime, I need to get to sleep. Bye-bye."

I hear the loft door slam, but I don't come out of the bathroom. I figured that Brian would need a bit of time to himself to absorb his responses to Michael. I don't think I have ever heard Brian brush Michael off so harshly before, but I can't deny the perverse pleasure I take in it. It kinda makes me hot. My phone vibrates again, taking me out of my reverie.

Emmett: Hey, Baby. I hope all is well. Listen, Daphne told me that you are considering getting your own place.

I text him back. Yeah, I think I need some space from Ethan.

Emmett: What? Trouble in Paradise?

Me: Not so much that as me feeling that I need to be in my own space. Ethan is okay; we're still together. But I'm at a point where I just need a bit of stability for myself.

Emmett: Oh okay... Well if you're interested, I think my new client mentioned something about one of those tiny houses on his vast estate. I think most of them have no more than five-hundred square feet, but the decor is often more elegant than what you see in larger homes.

Me: It sounds like something I would really be interested in. Can you send me his contact info?

Emmett: I'll do you one better, Sweetie. I have to go out there for another meeting tomorrow. You can meet Georgie for yourself and while I'm working, maybe he'll let you tour the grounds. You can also ask questions based on what you see.

Me: Sounds good, Em. What time should I meet you there? I have the evening shift tomorrow, so I have to be to work by five.

Emmett: Perfect. My meeting with him is at one-thirty, so that should give you plenty of time to get back and make your money, honey. I'll text you the address.

I laughed at the last line. It was classic Emmett, and instantly made me feel better about my plan to move out. Hopefully, Ethan will get the prize that the Heifetz Competition is offering so he won't feel so down about things. Don't get me wrong... Although I don't love Ethan and never will be in love with him, I don't wish him any ill will.

We just aren't as compatible as I originally thought. But then, I'd only had one major experience to compare my time with Ethan to. When Ethan and I are officially over, I'll figure out what to do then. But in the meantime, it's just better that I have my own space. Honestly though, it's time.

Me: Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, Em.

Emmett: Toodles, Sweet thang!

"Sunshine, are you going to stay in there all night? I thought the purpose of getting rid of Mikey was so that you could leave," Brian calls through the door.

I pick up my belongings, trying desperately not to let his last sentence affect me. Once again, this is what I wanted and asked for. Sex, without strings or sentiment, is exactly what I need right now. I guess that I am still a little raw from the questions he asked me, but he doesn't need to know that. It wouldn't do either of us any good, except to maybe boost his ego and make me feel insignificant within my own life again.

Fuck that! I have other things to feel messed up about; my new situation with Brian shouldn't be one of them. "Are you sure he's gone? I wouldn't be surprised to find him downstairs, sitting on the stoop, while pouting and hoping that you'll change your mind."

"Ha..ha..." Brian laughed, sardonically. "No Justin, he's gone. I saw him walking in the direction of Woody's. I guess he walked here so that he wouldn't lose his parking spot down by the bar."

I shrug because really, what was I going to say at this point about Michael's logic? Woody's was close, but not that close. It was eight city blocks away and enough to end up soaked by the rain, which is now beginning to tap against the window pane. "Well I guess this is it, until next time. Take care of yourself, Brian."

"I will. I'll call you."

And here we are again, not saying the things that should come out of our mouths, but instead are just living inside our heads. No matter how much either of us want me to stay, it wasn't the agreement. And this is the one time, I need a set of rules to keep me from getting hurt again. It sucks that this is what we have become, but until I regain my equilibrium, this is all we can ever be. I turn and leave, using the staircase before I make a decision that would be detrimental to me right now...

Or before Brian does.

Michael

I can't believe Brian! Fuck! That little shit still has him all fucked up in the head! But I need to get him to talk Justin into dropping this fucking lawsuit thing. I know he told me he was staying out of it, but he needs to change his mind and talk to the little bastard on my behalf.

I really do have to applaud the little fucker for not putting Brian in the middle of this, though. It seems that little Justin has finally realized that Brian belongs on MY side in ALL the ways that matter, and NOT his! But now that Brian has decided not to get involved, perhaps I should to talk to Lindsay about all of this. She may have some ideas on the subject, especially where I'm going to recoup Justin's money from. I just paid the last installment of twenty-five thousand to Taryn, since she just entered her last trimester.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. That's RIGHT! Brian and I are going to be parents!

Now I know what you're thinking... and yes, I- well Lindz- stole Brian's sperm from the loft, and also had Taryn inseminated with my sperm as well. But although Taryn is the oven the babies are baking in, Lindsay donated the eggs. We agreed that I would pay cash for the procedure so that the medical bills would come to the shop, instead of to Mel at home. It's why she couldn't carry the babies herself. Mel would have had a fit, plus if I'm being honest, after the the way the two of them treat Brian over Gus, I want Lindsay to be involved as little as possible.

But I won't tell her that for obvious reasons. She would just get all pissy, and blow my secret out of spite. I know, because I would do the same thing to her if it was my uterus that coughed up the eggs. So in the meantime, as allies, she and I have been extra careful that no one finds out until after the babies are born, especially Brian and Ben. Lindsay and I figured that now that Justin is out of the picture, it would be a good time for Brian to gear his thoughts more toward building our relationship and keeping our children close, since they will all be related now.

I really can't wait to see the look on Brian's face when we present him with the new children, alongside Gus. The only one I really worry about in all of this is Mel. She's the wildcard, and a lawyer; not a good combination! But after Brian gets Justin to drop the suit, or better yet after Justin decides that it's not worth the trouble after having to face Ma and the gang, I'm sure that Mel will be easier to handle. If she isn't...

Well then I'm sure that Lindsay has some ideas of how to get rid of her.

I walk into Woody's, a little wet but nothing like I would have been if I was five minutes later. "Where have you been, Michael?" Ben asks, as he puts his arms around my shoulder and hands me a brandy.

"Just walking around, Ben. I thought you were working."

"I finished up with my student earlier than I thought I would. She's trying to get all of her assignments done in advance, since she'll have to take some time off after the next six weeks. That should put her departure around right after mid-terms."

"Really? Why? The semester just started. Isn't it a little early for her to be cutting out of classes already?"

"It is, but it can't be helped. She's pregnant. So when nature calls, she has to answer."

I laughed. "Yeah, I remembered that from when Lindsay was pregnant. I think she must have gone into false labor every day for a solid two weeks, before Gus was finally born. By the time Gus actually made an appearance, Brian had decided that until they produced the baby, he wasn't going to the hospital again."

"Wasn't that the same night he met Justin?" Ben asks me.

I want to tell him that it was the worst night of Brian's life to date, but I don't. So I just answer, "Yes. Who knew that Gus would be almost two years old so soon? It's definitely weird."

Ben had turned and answered a question that one of his friends had asked him. As for me, I let myself get carried away in the prospect of babies and Brian. Don't get me wrong: I care for Ben. I care for him a great deal, but I will never be in love with him. That position has been filled many years ago in a hallway full of bullies, ready to kick my little nerdy ass.

My hero, my savior, my best friend Brian was always there to protect me, and in return, I gave him my heart. So just as Ben is a blip on my radar, Justin is the former blip on Brian's. As soon as the babies are born though, it should be smooth sailing for both of us. It's why always have, always will continues to be my reality, despite what the naysayers have thought all these years. It's only a matter of time now.  

So fuck Justin, and his threats of a lawsuit! The money has already been well and truly spent on securing mine and Brian's future together at long last. We'll be parents, and loving every moment of it! And that little piece of blond boy trash will just have to deal with it. Oh, I just can't wait!

Chapter 11: Thieves in the Temple- Justin (and others)

Lyrics

Love come quick/ Love come in a hurry/ There are thieves in the temple

tonight/ They don't care where they kick/ Just as long as they hurt you/

There are thieves in the temple tonight

Love if you're there come save me/ From all this cold despair/ I can hang

when you're around/ But I'll surely die/ If you're not there/ Love come

quick/ Love come in a hurry

There are thieves in the temple tonight/ I feel like I'm looking for my soul/

Like a poor man looking for gold/ There are thieves in the temple tonight/

Voices from the sky say rely on your best friend to pull you through/ But even

if I wanted to I couldn't really truly 'cause my only friend is you/ Come on

There are thieves in the temple tonight

Kicking me in my heart, tearing me all apart/ 'Cause me and you could have

been a work of art/ Thieves in the temple/ Baby don't you know I'm holding

on/ The best that I can/ Love please help me be/ The better man/ Better

than the thieves in the temple

In the temple tonight/ Oh, thieves in the temple (Tonight) tonight/ Hurt me/

Love come quick/ Love come in a hurry/ There are thieves in the temple

tonight/ You said you loved me!/ You said I was your friend!/ You were

supposed to take care of me! (Love come quick) {Thieves in the Temple}/

You lie! Love come (Lie!) in a hurry (Lie!)

Thieves in the temple tonight

Written by Prince Rogers Nelson

•  Copyright © Universal Music Publishing Group

Two Weeks Later

Justin

Things are finally starting to go my way. I officially filed the papers against Michael, despite the pleadings of Debbie not to take Michael's store from him. Part of me feels bad because I have to ruin her son's life, but the larger portion of me doesn't give a fuck. Michael has been cheating me from the very beginning, yet treating me and the use of my talent as his due. He betrayed my trust, not only regarding Brian, but because of my business.

Unlike for Michael, Rage and all its contents is not just a hobby for me. My name is on it; my blood, sweat, and tears went into it. Despite the mediocre dialogue, my artwork is what got the comic to the substantial proportion it has grown to be, while being lauded alongside long-time establishments such as Marvel and DC Comics. Even knowing what it costs me to draw for Rage- even if I love drawing for it- how dare he discount what I do for the business, and withhold the financial proof that I haven't labored in vain?! Well he is about to learn a very harsh lesson about fairness, and paying what you owe.

So no, I can't be sorry for that, at all.

The other great thing is that I met with Emmett's client, George Schickle. That's right ladies and gentlemen... The Pickle King of America and beyond is Em's client! I can't help but love that man and his partner for so many reasons- least of which is because I now have three new commissions: a rebranding contract for Schickle's Pickles which Brian agreed to help me with, for a fee of course. Another for a mural, which is going to pay for my new tiny house on his estate.

Also another commission is to be discussed at a later date, but the best news of the meeting is that the tiny house is on wheels. So hooking it onto my jeep I can move it anywhere I choose to live. It needs some work to make it my own, but for now, it will do. I've been moving my stuff, little by little, into the place. Emmett has been a real gem throughout all of this, and Mel negotiated my contract.

Another major benefit is that Mr. Schickle is also on the board for PIFA, so he was able to fix it so that I can forego four of my classes this semester, considering the two commissioned murals and one life studies painting as full credit. Since I was taking six classes, which is a full load, and two of the classes are done online, this freed me up so that I don't have to step foot on campus, except to occasionally meet with my counselor once every three weeks. Because of the artwork for Rage, and my artwork at the GLC back when I first met Brian, George and his partner, Malcolm, are avid fans of my work. The catch in the deal is that one of the murals I have to paint is at his estate in Los Angeles. His former wife, Virginia Hammond recently went to meet her maker- or as George put it Virginia went to hell to become its first lady- and she had what George called ‘atrocious taste' in artwork, including a mural of herself. George and Malcolm want to be able to spend the colder months there, since Pittsburgh has rather harsh winters.

I leave in a couple of weeks to begin working on it, so that by October they are ready to settle in until May of next year.

My only real problem continues to be Ethan... Or at least, that's the case if I don't do something about him quickly! He's become even more clingy than usual, which is saying a whole helluva lot. Sure, I haven't been the perfect boyfriend, but we are both busy. The problem is that when I'm busy, he's not and he simply expects me to change my plans to spend time with him.

Umm, sooo NOT going to happen! But it doesn't stop him from whining, whenever I refuse to do so. Because I already have enough problems with Ethan, I haven't told him any of what has been happening. My fourth project makes it even more difficult to do so, since Brian called me two days after my meeting with George. Of course we fucked, but afterwards, he had a very interesting proposition for me.

The GLC is paying him eighty-thousand dollars to build a campaign for their annual Carnivale. Brian offered me ten-thousand to work with him on it, and I told him that I would. Of course, this is a business agreement, but Ethan will see it as a way for Brian to get back with me no matter what I tell him. Honestly I could say the same thing about his continued association with his good friend LeRoy, but I don't. Perhaps it's because I really can't see any reason to be jealous.

Yes, Brian and I are fucking, but this is strictly about business. We have never, and will never mix the two. I can't say the same about Ethan and LeRoy, especially not when Daphne told me that she saw the two of them looking cozy in the student Cafe. She had gone there searching for me one day last week, and said that her appearance caused the two of them to look as if they had been caught with their hands in each other's cookie jars. Although I know Daph can't stand Ethan, she would never deliberately tell me something that isn't true just to get rid of him.

Considering that I've seen the same looks on them whenever I come into a room where they were alone for an extended period of time, I couldn't negate her assessment. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me, in the least. And isn't that quite telling in and of itself? So, despite of Ethan's objections and whiny pleadings, I'm doing what's best for me. And that includes working with a man, whom I just happen to like out of bed as well as in it.

Ethan will just have to deal with it... Or not. Besides, it will give LeRoy a chance to comfort him if he doesn't. Just call me altrustic!

Lindsay

"Who the fuck is Taryn?" Melanie is standing here in the kitchen, as I finish up the call. "And what the hell was all the fucking whispering about?"

I looked at Melanie, trying my best to think of a way to answer her without either raising her suspicions or outing the truth. "Just a young pregnant girl I met at the GLC. She's a little more than six months along; a college student and pregnant with twins."

There! As close to the truth as one could get, even though it was full of half-truths.

Taryn Charles is the young woman who is carrying my babies. Although Michael believes that one of them is his, he is dead wrong! Yes, so he jerked off in a cup, and pushed his idiotic donation into my hand for my endeavors. But I absolutely refused to have any of my eggs mingle with that whiny pain in the ass to create a child! First, it would be doing a disservice to humanity as a whole, if that asshole was allowed to procreate.

Secondly, the very thought of having to teach Michael's offspring anything as basic as simple table manners, was a most troubling thought. Hell, he hasn't even learned him as a grown man past thirty! So I did what any self-respecting woman in my position would do to achieve what she wanted. While at the fertility clinic, I swapped Michael's sample in exchange for a second one of Brian's the minute the nurse turned her back. You see, I always said that if I was going to have children they would be Brian's or no one's, and I meant every fucking word!

It was rather easy to obtain that additional sample. I found out that Michael, Ted, and Brian had spent the night in jail when a frantic Ted had called Mel to see if she could get them out. Unfortunately- or fortunately in my case- Mel told him that she wouldn't be able to do anything for them at that time in the morning. After they were released and told by Carl, Debbie's boyfriend, that there wouldn't be any charges, I waited until I thought was a good time to go see Brian to find out what exactly had happened. I let myself into the loft, which had the distinct smells of sex and coffee in the air.

I knew that Justin was at the Diner by then, so I had no worry of getting caught. But when I looked into the bedroom, I saw Brian sprawled out on the bed. The sheet and duvet were spread artfully around him, and... Oh I would have loved to have stayed there and watched him sleep all day, but I was on a mission! I looked into the trash can he's always kept between the bed and the bathroom.

There were two filled condoms within it, so removing the ziploc from my purse, I placed them inside. Just as I was about to leave, Brian opened his eyes and asked what the fuck I was doing there; that he didn't recall hearing the buzzer. I told him that I had just used my key to let myself in since I knocked and he didn't answer. A lie, of course, but he had no way to prove otherwise. I told him that Justin must have made coffee before he left and if he wanted some I would get it for him.

He nodded his head, and I headed back down the steps to prepare a cup for him.

"I don't believe it," he grumbled.

"What?" I couldn't help, but ask as I fixed his coffee just the way he liked it- with a ton of sugar. As I stirred, I couldn't help but be a little jealous that Justin got to see Brian in that freshly-fucked, and deliciously disheveled way everyday.

Brian had sat up then. He was stark naked in all his Adonis glory. I felt the little drops of drool surface in the corners of my mouth at the sight. The gorgeous cock that I remembered so well from the one time we fucked, was bobbing in the air before him as if hailing a cab. As I started to make some quip channeling my inner-Mae West, I noticed Brian looking down into the garbage can.

"The twat finally remembered to empty the garbage. I'll have to reward him later for actually paying attention to me when I asked him to this time."

I wanted to tell him so badly that Justin hadn't done what he asked. But then I thought about the fact that I actually did empty the garbage right into the ziploc, carefully nestled within a side pocket of my purse. Well I knew that particular conversation wouldn't have gone well, at all. So I kept my silence, even as I felt the bile rise up from my gallbladder at the thought of Justin's reward. I figured that if things went as planned, Justin was about to become a distant memory soon, so I could live with the reward Brian was talking about giving Justin...

Even if it did anger me that the little blond would have Brian's dick in him, before the night was through.

We had our coffee and chatted awhile about the events of the night before, leading up to Brian's short-lived stint in a holding cell. The conversation was amiable, but then I noticed the time and realized that if I was going to make it to my appointment on time to have my eggs fertilized, I would have to leave right then. We said our goodbyes, then I rushed to the clinic with the stolen sperm. I didn't want any delays, and I certainly didn't want Michael's sperm used. That would have been the ultimate tragedy for me!

Four days later, Taryn was inseminated with the fertilized eggs and the rest is history. We were lucky that the eggs took the first time, otherwise Michael would have been coughing up more money for the procedure to do it all again. I certainly couldn't ask Mel for it to make this goal for me a reality. I had them throw the rest of the samples out when Taryn reached her second trimester, so that Michael wouldn't get any ideas when he discovers that the kids are not his. Let him find his own egg donor if he wants to become a father.

So long story short, instead of two babies, Brian and I are going to have three children, including Gus. I'm so excited to see his face when I tell him!

Taryn has been a godsend throughout the entire process, keeping Michael and I updated on her progress at every turn. It was fortunate that we found her at all. I didn't lie when I told Mel that I had met Taryn at the GLC. Her parents were withholding her tuition money, until she decided that she was no longer a lesbian. That was when the plan to get Brian's sperm and have Taryn carry the babies began to form and take shape within my mind.

Michael had been looking for a way to get Brian to commit to him, and I knew that Michael was already withholding the bulk of Justin's earnings for the artwork on Rage. It was something we talked about a lot before he actually decided to do it. I'd often told Michael that he couldn't expect Brian to support him, the way he would a wife. So the logical approach would be to make himself an equal financially, before trying to get into a relationship with a stellar catch like Brian. Of course, our plan to have Justin babysit while I drew for the comic has fallen through, but I still get to have Brian's children at the end of it, so that it's a win for me anyway.

I told Brian once before that I wanted other children with him. And he had told me ‘no fucking way'; that Gus was going to have to suffice because he was never going this route again. Well regardless of his protests, in a few weeks I will have the physical evidence of exactly what that particular response meant to me. I don't mind waiting, as long as I get what I've wanted all along in the end. The only problem I actually have right now is standing before me, and bitching as usual.

"Lindsay, I find it amazing that you have so much time to tend to other people and their problems, meanwhile Gus is being neglected," she tells me.

"What do you mean, Mel? He's clean and fed. If anyone is neglecting Gus, it's you with your long hours, and this business with Justin's case! Why doesn't he just drop it already?!"

"First, let's get this straight. I work these long hours, because a certain woman decided that instead of resuming HER tenure as an Art History professor, she wanted to stay home with the baby for the first few years. However, instead of spending all her time with her child, she is running around town, plotting and scheming with the Dunce who MY CLIENT, Justin, is suing. Secondly, what Justin decides to do in regards to HIS case is NONE of your fucking business! Once again, you're involving yourself in matters that do not concern you. You keep this up, Lindsay and I'm telling you right now, you're going to have more than a little bit of problems."

"Are you threatening me, Melanie? What are you going to do?"

"I have no need to threaten, Lindsay. I'm Gus' parent, as is Brian. Plus the mortgage is in my name. Do I really need to say any more?"

She looks at me with a small smirk, knowing that she has me right where she wants me. My credit wasn't good enough to get my name added to the mortgage. And even though Mel paid all of my charge cards off, I still have no income of my own to speak of. It's times like this that I really regret having Gus. If I wasn't trying to trap Brian into giving me money while making Mel give in to me, this wouldn't be a factor right now.

I was receiving the best of both worlds with having a personal piggy bank in Brian, while Melanie supported me the way my spouse was always supposed to. If I would have been able to have a normal hetero relationship, Brian and Mel's roles would have been reversed, of course. But my plan to live like the queen I was born to be, while Brian and Melanie were providing for me, was working out perfectly at the time I decided to play Mommy full-time. And it would have continued if only Brian and Melanie had stuck to my plan; if they still played the roles I'd thought up for them... But no!

Fucking Ted had to be the one who told them what I was doing.

Apparently, as their accountant, my spending habits and requests were raising his proverbial red fucking flags. So as a result, Mel made me sign an agreement with Brian that I wouldn't ask him for any more money outside of the child support, which he sends faithfully. This is why I needed to be able to draw Rage. Michael wasn't going to be able to pull the bullshit on me that I suggested he put Justin through. Admittedly, if he tried, I would have been doing exactly the same thing Justin is doing now.

Mel's still standing there, tapping her foot at me with her arms folded across her chest, and waiting for my answer. I exhale a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, Almighty Mel. I get it. You have all the power and I have nothing."

"Cut the shit, Lindsay. You're not getting any sympathy points from me, and there's no one else here to be your audience. Besides, you have something that you've always wanted- a Kinney baby. So why don't you try honoring your responsibility to your child, for once, and leave the grown ass baby named Michael Novotny to dig himself out of the hole he put himself in by listening to you."

She stomps off, while I sit at the kitchen table. Once again, Melanie has bested me, which has been happening more and more lately. Why can't she understand how I feel, for once? I'm not used to being broke. I grew up with money, and am not used to not having it for myself.

Gus was supposed to be my way of reclaiming the kind of wealth I had grown up with. Well no matter, as soon as the other two babies get here, Brian will have to increase the child support. Whatever our household expenses are can be taken care of with one third of the check, but the rest will come to me, which I can live with for now. After all, the only other way Brian will be able to maintain any control over what he pays in child support would be to marry me. So either way, I win!

But before I deal with Mel and Brian's sudden alliance, I do have one more call to make. I need to see if he is aware of what his boyfriend is up to. I look at the time, noting that he should be available right now. As I scroll through my phone for the person I want to speak with, I think of all this could mean if the situation gets any more out of my control. My accomplices in ensuring that Justin is completely out of Brian's life are not doing their jobs adequately enough at all!

I press the option to connect the call. After ringing four times, I thought it was going to roll over to voicemail. So it is with surprise and pleasure as I hear his voice come over the line. "Hello Ethan, it's Lindsay. How are you?"

Ethan

I can't believe what Lindsay Peterson is telling me. Justin? Involved in a lawsuit? And with Michael?! "No, I know nothing about it. He isn't exactly as forthcoming with his business as he was when we first became friends."

"Well you have to make him tell you, Ethan. I didn't hand Justin over to you on a platter for you to lose him the same way that Brian did. If you don't communicate with him, or in this case make him communicate with you, you'll be in the same place as Brian. Except you'll be much worse off because he'll go back to Brian, and there will be nothing that you can do about it."

I know what she's saying is right, but what can I do? Justin won't confide in me. He's being secretive; I don't even know where he is half the time. And even when I do know where he is thanks to the GPS signal, which automatically comes on when he's connected to Wi-fi wherever he is, it's often too far away for me to get to by walking or the bus. Which brings me to my next question...

"Lindsay, where did Justin live before he hooked up with me?"

"With Brian."

"I know that!" I say forcefully, before calming down. "I meant the name of the street."

"He lived on the corner of Fuller and Tremont," she answers me as I pick up my phone to tap into Justin's GPS again. Right now, it shows him on the corner of 4th and Main which means he's at work.

"Ethan, why did you ask me that?" 

"Justin said that he has a studio, and I don't know where it is. I was just curious. Also, who lives in Sewickly that he may know?"

"His family used to live there, Ethan. My family is from there as well. It's a very wealthy area- some containing upper middle-class families to those who have million dollar mansions. Has Justin mentioned spending time there?"

I don't want to tell her that I've been tracking Justin's movements, but I don't want to lie either. "Not really. It's just that he's been helping someone out there on his days off; I was just curious about the area. The last thing I want is for Justin to be in danger, and I not know where he is, or what could have possibly happened to him."

"Well you don't have to worry about those things when he is in that neighborhood. Where you live now is much more dangerous than where Justin and I grew up."

"Ever since he got that fucking jeep, Justin has been pulling away from me, Lindsay. I don't know how to stop it," I said, piteously.

"Well, the first thing you have to do is convince him to get rid of the car. Then you will have more time to convince him that going forth with this ridiculous lawsuit is an expense that the both of you don't need. I will work on Melanie, who is his attorney. Don't worry, Ethan. If you follow my suggestions, you and Justin will be happy again. You just have to learn to close off all his avenues of escape. It's how I've managed to keep Melanie all these years."

"That's right! You both celebrated ten years together, even though the occasion was ruined by Brian's barbaric behavior. How could you both share a child with that monster? I mean the way he hit Michael... I would be afraid to let my child anywhere near him. It's why I'm glad that Justin left him. I would have been afraid that Justin was being hit, too."

"Don't worry about how I allow Gus near Brian," she said, sharply. "You know nothing about him. You just worry about you and Justin. I will take care of everything else, okay?"

"Yeah Lindsay, okay."

Her hard voice had gone back down to smooth and easy-going, as soon as I agreed with her. "Now remember, Ethan. Get Justin to get rid of his car first; everything else could be handled in increments. Remember, you got Justin to leave Brian in the first place, so it shouldn't be too hard to keep him with you."

We disconnected the call, and I have to say that I know she is right. I leave my apartment to go to see Justin while he is at work. I figured that by the time I get there, he should be ready to take his break and he can get us some food from the kitchen, so that we don't have to pay. I keep replaying the conversation with Lindsay in my mind as I walk. I did get Justin to let go of Brian, and anything that reminded him of the man.

There was the job at the Diner, and that ridiculous comic book. Although Michael took care of that for himself by betraying Justin, in the first place. Of course, there are some other situations that also need to be addressed immediately, in order for Justin and I to move forward with our lives, in the direction that I want us to go. After the car thing, I will take care of his association with that little bitch, Daphne. For all I know, she could be the go-between for him and Brian to communicate behind my back.

She's made no secret about her dislike of me. Regardless of how nice I try to treat her, she makes no bones about the fact that she's Team Brian and Justin, instead of me and Justin, so it's past time for him to cut her loose, once and for all! Ted is his accountant, although I don't understand what Justin could possibly need one of those for. He only makes so much money at the restaurant, and that goes towards paying for food and sheet music for me so that I can save my money for when I have to travel. He really doesn't need an accountant, so it's time that Ted is cut off from contacting Justin as well.

The same goes for Melanie, although having his attorney on standby could be useful for me in the long run. I will have to give that continued association a little more thought. The only one I won't systematically get rid of is Emmett. So far, he's been relatively harmless, but if it changes, he goes too. I want all of Justin's focus and attention on making us work!

I want him to be free to travel with me when I win the competition. I want him to not have too much contact with the people we leave behind, nor do I want him to be able rewrite a future, without me being a part of it. That's not what I planned when I started pushing my suit towards him. It's supposed to be about me, having my beautiful partner by my side in all the ways that matter, including supporting ME and my goals... And Justin IS that partner!

He is mine!

When I arrive at the restaurant, I head inside expecting to see Justin. Instead, I see one of the guys who also goes to PIFA. He's the one that helped Justin get an interview to get a job here. It helped that in exchange for his help, I let him cum in my mouth, but still it worked. Justin was officially free and clear of the low-class folks that made up Liberty Avenue, and is working in an upscale restaurant instead.

I asked him if Justin was free for dinner, but he told me that Justin had told him he would be back after his break. "He left with some older brunet dude, saying that they had business," Nick tells me.

"Do you know what time he's due back?"

"About a half hour, man. Do you want me to tell him you came by?"

Inside, I'm fuming! Justin is supposed to be here, not out gallivanting with Brian! I can just imagine what kind of business they are are conducting! Justin won't give me his ass to plow, but that never stopped him from giving it to Brian! It's just one more thing that keeps Justin from me!

Well I know how to put a stop to that!

I tell Nick not to tell Justin that I was here. I have a few dollars in my pocket, so I head over to the hardware store across the street. I leave with a set of tools and spray paint that I'm sure we don't need at the house, so it should be easy to return as soon as I'm done with them. I cross over to the car, noting that Justin must have had it washed recently since it looks almost brand new with a fresh wax job. The longer I stand there looking at the bane of my existence- the thing that enables Justin to keep secrets from me- the angrier I get.

Taking out the wrench, I bust up the headlights first. From there, it's easy to continue. I don't stop until all of my frustration of the past few months is drained from me. I relish the look of the broken glass and dented doors. But I'm NOT done!

Taking the can of spray paint in my hand, I stop to think about what it is I want to say. I think of all the things I've talked to Lindsay about: the lawsuit he's filed against his former business partner, that I knew nothing about; the upscale neighborhood that he's been visiting, that I knew nothing about; the studio, that I have never been to, and this fucking car I'm barely allowed to ride in! The red paint is beginning to burn a hole in my hand just as Justin's secrets, lies, and betrayals are burning a hole in my heart. And this is only the first thing in a long list that irks me about Justin's life before me! "LESSON #1: Secrets KILL," is what came out of the can as I stand here, looking dispassionately at the now-hunk of junk sitting in front of me.

This will surely serve as a reminder that HE IS MINE, and Justin is NOT to keep fucking secrets from me that I have to find out through other people! I'm lucky that Lindsay is pulling for our relationship to work, otherwise I still wouldn't have known what he was up to. I walk around to all four tires and let the air out of them to complete this crime of passion. Maybe Justin will finally learn his lesson from this. But if he doesn't, I'll just keep going until he does!

Justin

The meeting with Ted, Brian, and Mel was productive. When Ted came into the restaurant, I didn't think about it. But when I got to the car and found Brian and Mel in there, I knew it was a pretty serious visit. I ran back in quickly to tell Nick that I was probably going to be awhile and to cover for me if I'm late getting back. He told me it wasn't a problem, and just to call if I was going to be delayed.

We went to Mel's office because all of the documents, pertaining to my case, were there. It wasn't very far from where I worked and if need be, I could walk back. The meeting was very eye-opening about Michael's spending habits with my money. I found out that Michael had gone to the two comic cons and stayed in the penthouse suites at the Four Seasons both times. He also put ten-thousand dollars towards him and Ben getting a house, even though he has horrible credit.

To say that I am pissed off about that alone, would be an understatement. I was pretty much homeless until George offered me the tiny house. Yet here this bastard was buying a fucking house with MY money?! Before I could begin my rant, Ted and Brian assured me that they have already talked to Ben about the situation, and he said that he would try to find out where the rest of my money went. In the meantime, I agreed to let Ben take Michael's name off the mortgage so that he wouldn't end up homeless himself by the end of all this.

My issue is not with Ben; just his asshole partner, and I wouldn't want him to suffer because of it. But from what Emmett tells me, Michael is walking a thin line with Ben since all of this began. Ben told him that all it would take is one more screw up on Michael's part, and Ben would be done with him. I hope Michael screws up! Ben deserves so much better than that whining, cheating, thieving pain in the ass, so hopefully, Ben will think so as well.

I walked to the side of the building, where I parked my jeep to put the new round of papers and contracts in the glove compartment, before heading back into work. At first, I wasn't sure what the fuck I was seeing. My jeep wasn't the way I left it! It was... it was DESTROYED, and all my feelings of accomplishment and autonomy right along with it! I could feel the rising panic swelling within me; feel the life draining from me as I read the words: LESSON #1: Secrets KILL.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Why was my jeep vandalized? More importantly, WHO would do such a thing? Even as I could feel the darkness closing in on me, I pressed the number 1 on my cell phone, praying to God that he would answer. By the time he did, I could only force out the words "HELP ME," before the darkness that I tried to fight finally claimed my last conscious thought.

Chapter 12- At Your Best: Brian (and others)

Chapter 12: At Your Best- The Isley Brothers

When I feel what I feel/ Sometimes it's hard to tell you so/ You may not be in the

mood to learn what you think you know/ There are times when I find/ You want to

keep yourself from me/ When I don't have the strength/ I'm just a mirror of what I

see/ When you feel what you feel/ Oh how hard for me to understand/ So many things

have taken place before this love affair began/ But when you feel, oh like I feel/

Confusion can give way to doubt/ For there are times when I fall short of what I say/

What I say I'm all about, all about

But at your best you are love/ You're a positive motivating force within my life/Should

you ever feel the need to wonder why/ Let me know, let me know

Tell me what it is/ Make believe, no need to make believe/ Look beyond your own/Try

and find another place for me/ Cause At your best you are love/ You're a positive

motivating force within my life/ Should you ever feel the need to wonder why/ Let me

know, let me know

Written by Christopher Jasper, Ernie Isley, Marvin Isley, O'kelly Isley, Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley

•  Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Brian

Hearing the desperate yell of my lover- my true best friend- took me back mentally to a place that I never wanted to revisit. I can still hear the crack of the bat hitting his head and the thunk of his hard fall onto the ground. Panic was trying its best to overtake me again. But I wouldn't, couldn't let it! Justin needed me, and he needed me RIGHT NOW!

Gathering the shreds of my crumbling resolve, I ordered Ted, "Turn the car around now!"

"Why? What's happened?" he asked, even as he made a brisk u-turn in the middle of the Avenue, heading at full speed back to Justin's place of business. 

"I honestly don't know, but Ted... That was him on the phone." My breath caught in my throat and I realized that I couldn't speak anymore just then, or I would break. I could hear Melanie on the phone already calling 911.

"Should I call his mother?" Mel asked me.

All I could do was shake my head, in the negative. I had to get to him. I fiddled around with my phone, looking for the app that would tell me exactly where he is. It was how I was always able to know where Justin was. He and I had agreed to keep the app after the bashing episode specifically in case of moments like this.

It's also the one he keeps separate from his main cell, in case he's unable to get to it. Only four of us have the number to it, and I'm extremely glad that he never leaves home without it. Justin was deep into panic mode this time, there was no denying it by the sound of his voice. So I knew whatever it was that sparked it was very bad. What the fuck could have happened in the few minutes since we'd left him?

Had he seen that fucker Hobbs again? Had someone threatened him in that manner again? These and other questions filled my head, as we turned into the restaurant's parking lot. At first, everything looked the way it did when we dropped Justin off only fifteen minutes before. The cars were neatly parked courtesy of the valet service offered to its patrons.

The employee parking lot was in the back of the restaurant, near the rear entrance. Melanie went inside to confirm that Justin was in there. When she came back, Justin's coworker accompanied her.

"I've been calling him constantly, since the boss asked for him to run the kitchen tonight along with Darren. Ricky called out, saying that there was a problem at home which needed to be taken care of. I don't know where Taylor is but he'd better get his ass back in there asap. I'm not losing my job by covering for him," Nick finished.

"Do you know where his car is parked?" I ask him. Something isn't adding up. "We dropped Justin off in plenty of time for him to get back to work."

"He never came inside."

"Why don't we take a look at his car," Ted says, as he turns away from us to head towards the back of the building.

We all walk back there, including Nick. Something about the kid's stature is just irking me. But because I don't know what it is, I'm not going to say anything to him. I just want to find Justin hale, whole, and perfectly intact. I don't know what I'll do if...

No, NO! I won't think about that right now.

We look around for a while before we spot Justin's car. Or what used to be his car, but now looks like a mangled mess! I rush over to get a better look at the mess and nearly stumble over Justin's prostrate form. His emergency phone is still clutched tightly in his hand, his eyes are closed, and he's murmuring incoherently. I haven't seen him like this in a long time, and my heart breaks to see it again.

A little trickle of blood has pooled around his outstretched hand, leading me to believe that it's because of the shards of glass lying around him. Every protective instinct I possess is warring with my impulse to cradle him until he comes out of his stupor. Thankfully, no sooner than I have the thought, I hear the ambulances in the distance.

"My God, what happened to him?!" Nick looks on with shock and horror.

"That's what I would like to know," Melanie answers, before I could. "Who the fuck would do something like this? Look kid, tell your boss that he is to hand over the security footage from the last two hours to the police when they get here, or I'm going to help Justin sue his ass for lack of security. He won't be able to own or operate so much as a fucking McDonalds when I get through with this place! Hurry the fuck up!"

Nick took off like a shot, in the direction of the employee entrance. Ted moved closer to the car to get a better look, and to see if anything was out of place. Mel bent down next to me, and retrieved the documents that we can only assume Justin had come out to put in his car. 

"Mel, you should go on and call Jennifer," I say, never taking my eyes off Justin's prone form.

I can't stop my hand from reaching out to caress his blond head, hoping that in the middle of his panic attack, he knows that I am here. Thinking back to what Jennifer had said at the restaurant a few weeks ago about Justin's night terrors returning, I can just about imagine what horrible visions are wreaking havoc inside of his mind right now. Again, I have to fight my natural inclination to hold him, to keep him shielded and safe from all this. But I can't. And it fucking sucks that I know I can't.

The ambulance pulls up beside us, having been given instructions from Justin's boss that we were back there. I move away long enough for them to check Justin's vitals and get him hooked up to an oxygen tank. When it came time to heft him into the van, I hopped in alongside the EMTs. "Sir, you can't go with us," the redhead man had the nerve to tell me.

"Like fuck, I can't. I'm his partner," I told him. "You just concentrate on him, and let me worry about what I can and can't do." I was in no mood to deal with the shit storm I already knew was coming because I am with Justin.

"Brian?" Mel and Ted look at me quizzically, wondering what my end game was.

"Ted, I still have his POA. I need you to get a copy of the documents to the hospital. This is why you have the new set of keys to the loft. The same rules apply Ted; no one is to know you have them outside of three of us. They may, or may not have the new ones on file there. Meet me there. Mel, I trust you to call Emmett and Daphne to explain all this as we know it. Also have Jennifer meet me at the hospital. Even though I'm able to make decisions for him, I still need and want her there."

"What about Ethan?" she asks me.

"What about him? If it was up to me, he wouldn't be called at all! He will find a way to make this all about himself, and it's not. It's about Justin."

"I guess I'd better call Lindz and tell her what's happened."

I wanted to decide against it, since she's hanging off of Michael's balls like they're a fucking chandelier lately. But by then the ambulance doors were shutting, and we were on our way to Allegheny General... Again.

Melanie

Oddly enough, I can understand Brian's reluctance for me to call Lindsay or Ethan. Between the two of them, narcissist isn't a big enough term for the egotists. Adding Michael into the mix is a recipe for disaster as well. All three of them will shit bricks, if they are made aware that Brian still holds Justin's power of attorney just as Justin has Brian's. Outside of all the other changes Brian and Justin have gone through, I am suddenly very glad that this wasn't one of them.

I press the dreaded number of my house phone, and get ready to be given the third degree by Lindsay. When she answers, I rush speaking, before she can even say 'hello'. "Lindz, look I just called to tell you that I won't be coming home for dinner tonight. I'm on my way to the hospital with Brian and Ted..."

"Oh my God, what's happened? Never mind, I will find out when I get there!"

"Lindz, there's no need for you to come down to the hospital. I'll update you when find out more on Justin's condition."

"Justin? What the hell has he got to do with anything?!" she answers snottily, clearly not concerned about what has happened to him.

"We found him in the middle of the employees parking lot, shortly after we left him. It was awful, Lindz, just awful! His car was smashed and spray painted, but Justin is... He's..." I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I can't afford to fall apart right now. I can't actually believe that I'm saying this, but I feel bad for Brian. This is the second time he's seen Justin like this.

"Oh well, I'm sure that Justin will be fine. I'll call Ethan to let him know. Now, about dinner... There's nothing you can do there, so why don't you just come home? I've arranged for Dusty to keep Gus overnight, so that you and I can have some real Mommy time," Lindz says, and I can hear the salacious laugh coming through the phone.

"There is plenty that I can do, since I am Justin's attorney. You really need to get your priorities straight, Lindsay!"

"I have mine straight, Melanie! After all, I was trying to do something nice for my partner! But no, said partner has to step in save Justin's ass once again, without thought or regard to my feelings."

"Your feelings... You know what, Lindsay! Take whatever it was you made for dinner and either eat it yourself, or shove it up your ass! I don't care which one you do! If you need me, I'll be at the hospital where MY FRIEND is being taken at the moment."

"Mel, I'm..." I don't give her a chance to finish her statement, before I hang up the phone.

I swear, if I didn't know better I would think that Lindsay and Michael were twins. More and more, I'm seeing a side to her lately that I didn't know was even there. And I have to say, it's disappointing to say the least. But then again, I don't know why I've never acknowledged that it existed before. Maybe I was stuck in my own world of denial.

Things have got to change and I mean soon, if Lindsay and I are going to make it. I refuse to be in a relationship with someone as self-serving as the woman I just hung up on. I wonder if Ben has that same issue with Michael... And there is my problem right there! Anytime I can literally stand here and compare my relationship with Lindsay to ANY relationship that Michael is in, is an automatic fail on my part.

Yeah, she and I are definitely going to have a talk. But right now, I really have to get to the hospital. Lindsay may not be concerned for Justin, but I am. Strangely, that concern is also extending to a man that I thought I hated. But Brian keeps proving me a liar, at every turn.

I'm not sure how to feel about that, after all these years. But for once, I'm glad that although I've thought of him several times as a heartless shit, this is one of those times when I really understand what is between Brian and Justin. It's love- plain and simple. Brian really loves Justin, even if it means letting him go to reach for happiness and achieve his dreams. I honestly can't say that I feel the same way about Lindsay...

At least, I know I don't anymore.

Ted

I went to the loft as instructed, and got everything Brian needed to exercise his rights as Justin's power of attorney. Mel and I tweaked Brian's orders around a bit, so that I would call Em, who would in turn reach out to Daphne and Jennifer. Our reasoning was that Mel would certainly have enough on her plate dealing with the woman Lindz is becoming. Or maybe she has been that way all along and we just chose to ignore it? So with the documents in hand, and Mel calling her partner to explain things, my next stop is to pick Emmett up on the way.

Although we are still looking for a place, and have given up the hope and idea of a relationship between us, he and I are back to being best friends. I can't say that I'm not sad that he and I couldn't really make a go of it. But we're just too different and want different things. However, I am certainly happy that we have gone back to the way things were between us. So our short-lived stint as the porn King and Queen of Jerk-at-Work.net has come to an end.

Thanks to Brian I am helping him by working as a full-time Financial Consultant, while Emmett's catering and events planning business has taken off; also courtesy of Brian's recommendation. So that's why Emmett and I will always be loyal friends to the Stud of Liberty Avenue. And especially to Justin, who has also been working his ass off to help us build our businesses through his artwork, and building a website for each of us. If it wasn't for the two of them taking a chance on us, I'd be in jail right now and Em would be unemployed. It's also why I don't understand Michael.  

I am beyond angry at Michael for what he's done to Justin. Many times, Em and I questioned him on his motives. We all know that Michael is a fair-weather friend, and that as long as he is being served and you're doing what he wants, he'll stick by you. I experienced that firsthand when I was with Blake. Before Vic got arrested Michael was extraordinarily mean to him and took every opportunity to be so.

But that all changed when Vic was falsely accused of flashing a cop in the rest room at the mall. Blake called in a favor from his former dealer and got the information and money needed to free Vic. Suddenly Blake was a hero, until he relapsed and I had to take him to rehab, which he later left again. Michael couldn't understand why that grieved me so and told me in no uncertain terms to move on and that Blake wasn't worth my tears. Michael has a selective memory and conveniently forgot that it was the same man- the one who wasn't worth my tears, according to him- who made it possible for his family not to have to pay the money back from the loanshark Tino referred them to.

In Justin's case, it was a bit different. The young man, who tried to believe the best of everyone got confused when a man who was mean, jealous, and spiteful, befriended him under false pretenses. Michael used Justin's insecurities against him in the most heinous of ways by giving him hope of succeeding with Rage and Brian with one hand, while stealing from him with the other. It was heartbreaking to watch the formerly confident teenager, disintegrate into an unsure shell of himself. I wanted so badly to tell Justin not to trust Michael, not with anything!

But I'm not sure that he would have listened, since he was so desperate just to have some hope to hold onto. Instead, Em and I tried to talk to Michael about it, and were shot down repeatedly, ending with him telling us to stay out of Rage business and mind our own. So when Brian came to me a few weeks ago to review the accounts for the Rage franchise, I jumped at the chance. I felt that something was rotten in the milk from the beginning, even back when Justin was still working at the Diner. And when Justin first quit working there, I was certain of it, although from outward appearances, it was just about Michael and that mangy mutt, Ethan, making it uncomfortable and impossible for Justin to stay.

But I couldn't voice my suspicions to anyone, not even Em until I had proof. So when Brian and Mel gave me the opportunity, I acted on it without hesitation. Now, I know exactly what Mr. Novotny-Bruckner was up to. And I am sad to say that I ever considered the man a friend. Michael was robbing Justin blind, giving him a minute portion of what he really earned, even knowing that Justin had the major expense of college to pay.

Initially, I would have said that this was all about Justin having Brian in a way that Michael never could or would. But I would've been wrong. The amounts of money that Michael has been hoarding is punishment for Justin being born well off in the first place, something that wasn't his fault. If Michael didn't have it, a crime had been committed against him. It didn't matter that Michael was often the villain in his own tale; just that he could, and did, punish the people who had what he didn't.

The irony is that Michael has always been that way, even in regards to Brian.

Brian went to college and earned his degree, while Michael was stuck working a retail job that he hated. I was there each and every time that Brian offered to send Michael back to school to get a degree, and listened to every single complaint and excuse as to why he couldn't or wouldn't do it. So when Brian meets a college-bound, borderline genius and makes him more than a fuckbuddy or best friend- makes him into his partner- Michael's nautural inclination towards jealousy and envy took an even more sinister turn, into a plot worthy of Puccini. And now Brian and Justin are dealing with this new drama, one that the kid certainly does not deserve. I will not lie and say that seeing Justin lying there incoherent didn't affect me.

I remember my own time in such a state, before I slipped into a coma from taking too much GHB. The funny thing is that I made the choice to take it. Stupid, yes, but that's the truth of it and I own it. But Justin didn't elect for any of this to befall him. Who would do such a thing, knowing that young man's history of panic attacks?

I don't give a shit what anyone thinks or says, this was a deliberate act of aggression committed against Justin!

My heart broke to see him just lying there mumbling to himself, unable to move or think rationally; stuck in a waking nightmare not of his own making. I can only thank God that before his mind turned to mush, he had the forethought to call Brian. I have never seen Brian in such a state of distress and shock in my life. I always thought he was heartless, until I witnessed him pull himself together brick by brick in order to issue orders to Mel and I, putting Justin's needs before his own breakdown. I had wondered what was between them, especially after Justin came to live with Brian after the bashing, but I don't have to wonder any longer.

Brian loves that boy! It's plain for anyone to see, except for those who love to live in denial. I really hope that Justin is okay, because if he isn't, I get the feeling that Brian will happily do time in jail for killing the fucker who did this. Emmett jumps in the car and I explain what's happened on the way to the hospital. He calls Daphne and tells her what's going on.

She says that she will call his mom, and meet us there. As soon as we arrive, paperwork in hand, we see the commotion going on in the Emergency Room. Ethan Gold is here, flipping out because he isn't allowed to see Justin. Brian is standing toe-to-toe with the ratty trench-coat wearing violinist, while Melanie has a firm hold on Brian's arm. Emmett runs over to help Mel as Brian looks like he's about ready to separate Ethan's head from his shoulders.

I make my way over to the nurses station, and hand over the necessary documents that would allow Brian to make decisions regarding Justin's medical care. Afterwards, I go and try to reason with Justin's boyfriend, even though to my mind he's biggest mistake. But I'll keep that to myself for the moment. "Ethan, I wish I could say that it is a pleasure to see you. But under this set of circumstances, I won't. What are you doing here?"

"I received a call from Lindsay, telling me that Justin was on his way to the hospital. I don't know why the nurses, or even one of you, couldn't call to tell me that. I don't want that fucker near MY boyfriend! For all I know, he's the reason Justin is in here and not coming home to me, where he belongs!"

I rub my fingers across my forehead, in an agitated manner. The last thing I need- any of us needs right now- is to deal with teenage angst, and young adult histrionics. "First, I can assure you that Brian, Mel, nor I, have any responsibility for how Justin ended up in the state we found him. All I can tell you is that he was found near his smashed up car, and it threw him into one of the worse panic attacks we have ever seen... And we've all seen many! Are you aware of them?"

"No. Well yeah, but I usually just tell him to snap out of it."

I turn to look at Brian out of the corner of my eye, just in time to yell, "No Brian... you are not allowed to kill him. Don't hit him!" I bring my voice down to a soothing level, drawing his attention. "Look, Bri, I know we all might want to at this very moment, myself included. But we have to think of Justin. He needs us here, not awaiting arraignment. Why don't you go to the nurses station and ask to speak with the doctor? I'm sure now that they have the documents, they will be willing to get you the answers you need. Daphne and Jennifer are on their way, and you'll want to be able to tell them something substantial when they get here."

Brian nods his head, and gently pulls away from Mel and Emmett, who only just managed to catch up to him, right before I was able to stop his progress. I have no doubt that if the three of us weren't successful, Ethan's name would have to be changed to 'mincemeat' right now.

"What the fuck?! Why is HE checking on Justin, and not me? I'm his family, not that whore!"

I couldn't help the explosion of anger I felt, directed at this arrogant puppy before me. Brian Kinney is a million times more a man than this wet-behind-the-ear whelp will ever be! Balling my fists to dig my nails in my skin, I inhaled deeply and exhale three times, before I'm calm enough to answer. "Brian has Justin's medical proxy and his power of attorney, in case he's ever in a situation where he cannot make decisions for himself. It was in place long before you, and will remain that way long after you are gone. Make no mistake, Ethan. Justin trusts Brian with his life more than anyone else, regardless of who gave birth to him or whom he fucks. It's something that will NOT be changed."

"Like fuck it won't! Justin and I are going to have a serious talk about this when I go back to see him!"

"Apparently you misunderstand, Mr. Gold. But unless Brian or Justin himself says it's okay, you're not going back there. Now you have two options: you can either go home and wait for Mrs. Taylor to call you, or you can sit here looking like a little lost puppy, waiting to be called from the waiting room. I doubt any of us really cares what you decide to do. But I should warn you that if you continue to annoy Brian, I will have you tossed out of this hospital for the duration of Justin's stay. Are we clear?"

I didn't give him a chance to answer, as I turned away in time to see Daphne and Jenn coming through the doors. In their wake was Vic, Debbie, Ben, and of all people Michael, who was making a beeline for Brian. I looked at Emmett, who had already braced himself for impact in front of Brian, as Michael slammed straight into him. 

"Move, Emmett! I have to get to Brian," Michael demanded.

"No. As you can see Michael, Brian is busy with Justin's doctor. Therefore, I'm sure that whatever you have to say can wait."

"Why the fuck is he talking to Justin's doctor?! His mother is here; she should be doing that, not Brian! The little shit probably orchestrated this whole thing so that Brian would come to his rescue, once again. Shouldn't his boyfriend over there be his fucking hero now?!"

"Be that as it may, Michael, Brian is Justin's proxy and by law and right, he is speaking with the doctor about Justin's condition," Emmett stated calmly, despite Michael's fuming. I couldn't help but be proud of my best friend and ex-lover just then.

"I don't give a shit what a piece of paper says! Brian has other things and people to worry about. You would think he would have learned his lesson from the first time Justin was brought in here when that bat hit him. God, fuck! Why won't the little bastard just fucking DIE already?!"

Before anyone had a chance to move, Michael found himself spun around. All any of us really saw was the right fist, then a hard left uppercut given, in quick succession, to the face of Michael Novotny. As he hit the floor, Daphne stood over him, chest heaving in clearly agitated respirations. She raised her foot and stomped into his midsection, causing Michael's body to bow inward. Ben grabbed her from behind, before she could do any more damage to his partner.

"Let me go, right fucking now!" Daphne screamed. "That fucking little shit deserves that, and so much fucking MORE for the things he's saying about Justin."

I think all of us were amazed that for a small-statured girl, she threw a couple of mean punches. Ben had a hard time containing her, but had just managed to get her far enough away for Michael to get up, unaided.

"I want her arrested! Ma, did you see that little bitch hit and kick me?! I want her arrested for assault!" Michael whined, but it was Debbie's response that really surprised us all.

"Be lucky it was her you little shit, or I would have done it myself! At least, Daphne had the presence of mind to take a slight break before she went back to kicking your ass. I think each of us could guarantee that you would have needed your own hospital bed, by the time she was through. Personally, I wouldn't have stopped!"

"But Maaa...."

WHACK! Deb popped him upside the head. "Don't you open a mouth to me, Michael! You owe Jennifer and Daphne... fuck you owe ALL OF US, including Justin, an apology!"

"I'm NOT apologizing, since I meant every fucking word!" My thought as Michael folded his arms and scowled at all of us assembled was, Pardon me, but did someone lose their five year old? 

"Well if that's the case, Michael, don't bother coming home," Ben said, placing Daphne back on her feet.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?! It's my house, too! This is all Boy Wonder's fault!"

Ben quickly grabbed Daphne around the waist, as she advanced towards Michael again. When he spoke, I was truly amazed by his composed fury. I needed to practice that, because right now, I feel like joining Daphne and placing a few kicks to Michael's ass myself. "No, Michael. It's your own fault! And since you are both a liar and a thief, I had your name removed from the mortgage. That way, when Justin sues your ass, I will still be able to keep MY house. So that said, you aren't welcome there, until you can change your attitude."

"Can he do that?" Michael turns to me, and asks.

It's taking everything in me not to laugh at him right now. One of his eyes is already swollen shut, and there is the small imprint of a fist under his chin. Once again, I can't help but admire young Daphne. "Yes, it's true. Ben was well within the thirty day period for him to change the terms of the mortgage. Since it was just a matter of taking your name off of it, it took even less time," I answer.

Before Michael had a chance to say anything, Emmett gets a look, first of surprise, and then boiling-hot anger on his face. "Oh my God! This is not the first time you said that, is it Michael?!"

"What are you talking about, Emmett?" Michael asks, but the guilty look on his face tells all.

"You know exactly what the hell I'm talking about! Those words are the reason Brian floored your ass at Mel and Lindsay's party, aren't they? And here we all were blaming Brian for hitting you. But it was your hateful comments that caused him to punch you! Well I know one thing, you need to be thanking God right now that Brian didn't hear you say that again, because you wouldn't need a hospital bed; instead, you would need a body bag."

"Ah excuse me, but this isn't about Michael! It's about Justin, and why I am not being allowed to see MY BOYFRIEND!"

I roll my eyes. I had forgotten the little funky-fingered fucker was still here.

"Ethan, for the love of peace and hair grease, no one gives a shit about you or your anger at being denied access to Justin! Brian has his proxy and POA, not you, so get that through your greasy head already! I'm sure before Mrs. Taylor and I showed up, you'd already given your Academy Award- worthy performance. Here's the gist of the matter. No one gives a flying bag of shit if you feel slighted; no one gives a filtered fuck if you cry and throw a tantrum. Most of all, no one gives a FUCK YOUR FEELINGS FRIDAY about whatever the hell you think, spew, chew, or whether you stick your dick in a duck or light socket! THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU!!! So now, unless you want to meet the business end of my fists the way Michael here did, get the fuck somewhere, anywhere that's NOT here and sit the fuck down!" Daphne yelled, just as Brian stepped back into the emergency room.

"He's resting for now. I'm going to sit with him. I'll keep you all updated," and with that bit of information, the rest of us went to have a seat to wait for news of Justin, while Michael silently fumed in the corner away from everyone else.

As for the fiddler, I watched him slink dejectedly out of the building. I knew it wouldn't be the last we'd see of him. But for now, we could all sit back and absorb the peace and quiet for awhile. And that was just about as much good news as the fact that Justin would be awake soon.

Brian

I'm sitting here next to him, just happy and thankful that he is alive. The doctor doesn't think that there will be any lasting damage... Well not physically, anyway. He did recommend that Justin seeks a therapist as soon as possible for the nightmares, and this new trauma that he has undergone. Dr. Wheeler has been with us, since the first time we were in this godforsaken place.

It was nice to see him again, regardless of the circumstances. I know that he genuinely cares for Justin's wellbeing. Nurse Nancy is also here hovering as usual, but again I find that comforting in a weird, morbid kind of way. She was the person I would always get updates on Justin's condition from. When she saw me the first thing she said was ‘Oh, now we're done hiding in the shadows? Take care of him personally this time, instead of running away the minute he wakes up.'

I just nodded my head, knowing that she was right. I should have stayed then, but I will stay now. I won't leave him, Daphne, or Jennifer alone to face the aftermath by themselves this time around. Fiddling with my phone, I put on the original to a song that the artist Aaliyah had remade some years ago.

Although her voice was always- will always be- angelic, I prefer the one my dad used to play by the Isley Brothers some years ago. I remember the first time Justin played it for me, right after I had considered signing the papers to give Mel my parental rights. Justin talked me through it, and told me to hold on a while longer to see if there was a way around the current law. He was right and the law eventually changed, so that both Mel and I could be parents without me having to give my rights away.

He was also so optimistic and hopeful, which is why he played "At Your Best" for me. He wanted me to know what I meant to him in those quiet moments, when it was just us. And so here I am, playing it for him so that he'll know that the feeling is, was, and always will be, returned. I need to make some decisions and some changes. It's actually sad that it took this to get me to see that, but until he can come to terms with what he wants, I'll see where all of this leads.

One thing is for certain though... Justin is my end game, and I'll do what I have to do to win him back.

Chapter 13- The Boy is Mine

The Boy Is Mine

Monica, Brandy

Think it's time we got this straight/ Sit and talk face to face/ There is no way you could

mistake/ Him for your man are you insane

But see I know that you may be/ Just a bit jealous of me/ But you're blind if you can't

see/ That his love is holding me

See I tried to hesitate/ I didn't want to say what he told me/ He said without me he/

couldn't make it/ Through the day, ain't that a shame

But maybe you misunderstood/ 'cause I can't see how he could/ Wanna change

something that's so good/ All my love was all it took (the boy is mine)

Must you do the things you do/ You keep on acting like a fool/ You need to know its

me/ not you/ And if you didn't know it's cause it's true

I think that you should realize/ And try to understand why/ He is a part of my life/ I

know it's killing you inside

You can say what you wanna say/ What we have you can't take/ From the truth you

can't escape/ I can tell the real from the fake

When will you get the picture/ You're the past, I'm the future/ Get away it's my time to

shine/ If you didn't know the boy is mine

You can't destroy this love I've found/  Your silly games I won't allow/ The boy is mine

without a doubt/ You might as well throw in the towel

What makes you think that he wants you/ When I'm the one that brought him to/ The

special place that's in my heart/ He was my love right from the start

You need to give it up/ Had about enough/ It's not hard to see/ The boy is mine/ I'm

sorry that you/ Seem to be confused/ He belongs to me/ The boy is mine/ I'm sorry

that you/ Seem to be confused/ He belongs to me/ The boy is mine!

Songwriters: Brandy Norwood / Fred Jerkins Iii / Japhe Tejeda / Lashawn Daniels /

Lashawn Ameen Daniels / Rodney Jerkins

The Boy Is Mine lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Ethan

I spotted Brian coming out of Justin's room, just as I arrived in the Medical/Surgical unit ward of the hospital. Thankfully, both the hallway and the waiting room were empty as I stepped off the elevator. The last thing I needed was to be halted or assailed by Justin's well-meaning family members. As far as I'm concerned, they are nothing more than parasites and roadblocks to mine and Justin's happily-ever-after. Making my way over to the Nurses' Station, I loudly declared that I have come to see my boyfriend.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Gold, was it?" she asks me.

"Yes, that's right. And I'm here to see my boyfriend, Justin Taylor," I repeated, taking pleasure in the narrowing of the hazel eyes, boring into me from the other side of the hallway. I should have expected that Kinney would make his presence known in this manner. The asshole doesn't have a cordial bone in his body! 

Well, if this insignificant nurse would do her job right, I would have been able to bypass Mr. High-and-Mighty Kinney, heading straight into Justin's room. He should have been awake by now to rescind Brian's supposed authority. Fuck, I should have asked Phoebe to accompany me. She would have been able to bypass all this bullshit, since she still volunteers here every now and then. Next time, I'll remember to do that.

Nancy

His arrogant, and demanding demeanor was not lost on me. I huffed out a sigh, as I am already late ending my shift due to my damn replacement running late. Needless to say, I am not in the mood for this drama, just shortly after eight in the morning. I cleared my throat, a little smirk ghosting on my lips at the display of machismo between the two battling brunets. Brian is standing there as arrogant as I remembered him from a little more than two years ago.

The man always looked as if he had ice water running through his veins, except for when he looked at that blond young man, sleeping peacefully behind the closed door.

Yes, I remembered him well, and spent last night catching up with the man I knew from Justin's first visit to Allegheny General Hospital. The real man behind the uncaring facade that he showed the world at large, was always surprising to behold. I found that there was a whole lot more to the man than I think anyone knows or suspects. Except perhaps for Justin, himself. After being brought up to speed about Justin's progress from his initial discharge until now, I steered the conversation into what I remembered was dangerous territory the first time I had gotten curious about Brian Kinney, and his relationship with Justin Taylor.

Surprisingly, this time Brian was very forthcoming. He told me of the first night he had met Justin, and of the actual events leading up to Justin being bashed by Chris Hobbs- a young man who I'd known for many years and still couldn't stand. And that intense dislike goes for both him, and his asshole father. Brian told me of Justin's return home and the advent of the panic attacks; how frequent and horrible they were, often in conjunction with the night terrors, which continued to torment the young man. But what surprised me the most was Brian's honesty about the real reason the young man standing in front of me was claiming to be Justin's boyfriend, even as Brian still held Justin's medical proxy and power of attorney.

Brian had let Justin go, so that the young man would never regret being with a man twelve years older than him. He let Justin go to experience the fairy tale all parents told their children about relationships and happily-ever-afters. He wanted Justin to learn the difference between actions and mere words. And from what I could see when we sat conversing in the still quiet of the hallways as patients- including Justin Taylor- slept, letting Justin go had cost Brian more than anyone ever knew. It still did.

As I sat there listening to him with non-judgemental hearing, I was again reminded of the man who stood outside of the young man's room night-after-night, looking in on Justin. But who never even entered the small space, to comfort his young lover; another highly-paid punishment for both of them, it seemed. Reeking of alcohol, I always recognized pain management when I saw it. Most people, including me, had self-medicated in the same way, so I never held him in contempt. In fact, I think I understood better than most, since I had done the same when my children died from injuries related to a car accident, years before I ever met Brian Kinney.

Twins- a boy and a girl from my ex-husband and me, perished because of a drunk driver who careened into their limo on their way to the afterparty given at their friend's house. So imagine my surprise when the ambulances pulled up outside of the emergency room where I was working as a Trauma Nurse that night, only for me to see Vince and Vanessa, lying there with all manner of tubes coming from them, blood everywhere on their motionless bodies, two separate gurneys which each held a piece of my soul that would never be returned to me again. Tragedy was tragedy, no matter the outcome, and some people handled it better than others. For the others, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam were insta-healers... Well at least, they were noise killers, if only for a little while.

So no, I didn't and wouldn't judge Brian then, and I wouldn't now.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gold, but you're not on the list to see Mr. Taylor. I'm sure that you are aware of the reason Mr. Taylor was brought in last night, since I saw you having a moment- or a better description would be a tantrum- in the waiting room amongst his other family and friends. Because of the nature of the ongoing investigation, only people on the patient's list on file are allowed to see him."

Ethan narrowed his eyes at me, then turned to Brian, who stood with a nonchalant look on his face. "Fix this shit, Kinney! You know that I have every right to be with Justin, whereas you don't. This is just another of your ploys to get Justin back!"

Brian laughed, really laughed at Ethan. "If I really wanted him back, this is the last place I would pick to wage a suit. Although it does have a certain ambiance for nostalgic purposes, don't you think?"

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be."

"Look. I realize that right now you hold all the cards, so I'm asking you. Let me in to see my boyfriend!"

"Again, the answer is no. Justin needs rest, and like it or not, I'm going to see that he gets it."

"You can't stop me!"

"Same old argument, huh Ian? Well, from my point of view, and from that of the law, I'm doing just that." Brian shrugged at me, and then looked back at the young man in front of him. "I do believe that Nurse Nancy explained it all to you. Were any of the words particularly difficult for you to understand?" Brian enunciated slowly to the greasy man.

Ethan got into Brian's face, and I wanted to pop the little fucker myself for causing such a scene. I was actually surprised Brian didn't when the little man spoke again.

"Listen, Kinney. Justin is no longer interested in the Whore of Babylon! So why don't you go crawl into a bottle somewhere, and leave me to take care of Justin. If you had taken care of him before, he wouldn't be with me now!"

I watched as Brian's nostrils flared a little, before he exhaled a calming breath. "As usual, you are so thick, Ian. You don't, and never did, have the power to steal Justin away from me. And whatever your opinion of me, it doesn't matter, because the person who does matter is laying in the bed within that room, which you are not going into."

"He's mine, Kinney! You would do well to remember that! When he is discharged from here, he's coming home to me! And I will make sure that this proxy, or power of attorney, or whatever, is revoked immediately! Justin and I are together and we will be together. You can't give him what he wants. You never did, and you never could!"

"Is that right?"

"It must be because I'm the one he's with, not you!"

"And you know Justin so much better than I do, is that it?"

"Yes! I know his heart and mind; we share the same soul. You don't even have a soul, but if you did there's no doubt it would be buried in the ass of one in however many thousands of men you've fucked."

Brian laughed again, adding applause. "Wow, Ian. It's amazing that you are able to keep up with my sex life as well as you are. Could it be because you don't have one of your own?"

I could tell, even from where I'm sitting, that Brian's question hit its mark. I almost feared that I would have to call security, because the young man looked as if he wanted to scratch Brian's eyes out. Thankfully, he thought better of going up against that lion of a man.

"Justin and my sex life is none of your business!"

"And neither is mine and Justin's life- before, during, or after you- any of yours. Shouldn't you be running along to class now? I hear there is a really big music competition coming up. My company- or should I say former company, since I've started my own- is one of the sponsors funding it. So saying, they don't, nor do I, like to waste money or time. Unlike them, I've already expended way too much of my valuable time and words on you."

"This isn't over, Kinney!"

"Sure, it is."

"You're not going to have Justin back. I won't let you!"

"As if you can stop it."

"You want to make a bet on it?"

"I don't need to. You should hurry, though. I remember just how much the professors at PIFA get pissed when their students are late. After all, I lived with one of said students."

I watched as Ethan Gold hurried to the elevator, looking back with narrowed eyes at his nemesis. Brian's countenance didn't waver in its arrogance, even donning a small smirk to add to his smoldering good looks. God above, why isn't this man straight?! But then again, thank God he isn't. No woman's heart would be safe from the alluring, captivating, and towering brunet.

That type of magnetism isn't something that is bought, but cultivated and honed to perfection. Sadly for Ethan Gold, it is a presence that he will never possess. No, Brian had not lied to Ethan, saying that he could have Justin back if he wanted to. I have the feeling that the incomparable Mr. Kinney is just simply biding his time. And honestly, from what I've seen of Mr. Ethan Gold, Brian will not have to wait long for Justin to come home to roost; no, he won't wait long at all!

He saunters back into the room with Justin just as I rise up out of my chair. My replacement has just arrived and you know what? I'm not pissed at her anymore. Her tardiness has afforded me a floor show worthy of Jerry Springer- well without the physical altercations, although that was a close call. I give her a rundown of all the patients to be seen and treated, as well as advising her that they all have already had their morning meds.

I also inform her of Justin Taylor's allowed visitors list, and what transpired only minutes before she showed up. I know she'll know what to do from there, so I take my leave. As I'm walking by Justin Taylor's room, I am not surprised at what I see. Brian has climbed into bed next to the young man, and even though his back his facing the door, I know that Justin is awake. I can't hear what they are saying, but I know that Brian's presence is soothing him in a way that even the good drugs can't do.

Justin's slight hand is caressing the length of Brian's arm as the older man's hand that is splayed in Justin's hair makes its descent to the bare skin of his back. Brian pulls him close, and inhales deeply as if Justin is some sort of lifeline. And perhaps he is; maybe they both are that to each other. After a while of observing them, I almost feel like an intruder. Even when they are doing nothing but laying still and talking quietly, it still feels intimate and explosive all at the same time.

It reminds me of what my ex-husband and I used to have before the kids died, eight years ago. I think maybe it's time to give my Norman a call. He seems to think that there is still a chance for us to restore our lives together. After seeing Brian and Justin, I realize that in spite of it all- all the hardships and heartache- I want that for myself, again. I can only hope that Norman is right.

Ben

I woke up this morning, my arm automatically reaching for Michael. Usually at some point during the night, we end up either spooning or he's literally all over me in the bed, with me lying on a small corner somewhere. As I lay there and shift, trying to feel the warmth where his body should be, my sleep-shrouded mind plays back the events of last night to provide me with the answers to ‘Where is Michael?' I still can't believe the animosity Michael has towards Justin; the animosity with which he'd spoken the words that caused all the uproar at Mel and Lindsay's party, several weeks ago.

How could he wish someone dead like that? What happened to the compassionate man I fell in love with, all those months ago? It makes me question my judgement in what I believed I saw in him in the first place. If Michael can manage to turn like that on someone he once thought of as a friend and has known longer than me, then what the fuck does he think and say about me when I'm not around to hear him? It's definitely not a comforting thought, especially coming from another situation in which I trusted a man I thought to be my partner, and was thoroughly betrayed, resulting in me having HIV.

I can't go back to that feeling of hurt and helplessness again, not even if it means that I have to be without Michael.

I take care of my morning ablutions, washing yesterday's anger from my mind as I wash last night's sweat from my body. I come out of the shower, smelling the fresh aroma of french roast coffee, thankful that I had the forethought to splurge on a coffeemaker with an automatic timer. It was a great investment since I no longer have to stand around waiting for the old one to percolate, before I get my requisite dose of liquid sanity. As soon as I'm dressed I head downstairs, pour the egg whites in a pan and scramble them up, pop my whole wheat toast in the toaster and fix myself a quick breakfast sandwich. I barely manage to grab my travel mug as I look at the time and pick up my bookbag to head out the door for work.

I have an early meeting with one of my students, who is taking an early leave of the semester, and I can't be late since she has a doctor's appointment during our regularly scheduled class. As I'm driving to work, I think about the girl I'd met a little more than a year ago. Taryn Charles was one of the sweetest young women I would have ever wanted to meet. I often wondered why she wasn't born back in my straight days. Who knows, if I had met someone like her before I admitted that I was actually a gay man, maybe I would have happily lived my life in the closet with her.

But then again maybe not, since she's a lesbian herself. I worried for her when she told me that she had come out to her homophobic parents and they had put her out. I remembered taking her to the GLC for the first time, and introducing her to Lindsay. I could tell that they were going to be friends, since Taryn and Lindz had a lot in common. Both were born within a world where money talked, and you either fell in line or you got cut off.

Taryn had chosen to get cut off when her parents ordered her to marry the man who just happened to be Justin's attacker at the high school prom. The only thing that saved her the fate of having to marry Chris Hobbs was her finally admitting to her parents that she was a lesbian. The fact that she was older than Chris by a few years wouldn't have made a difference since her mother was older than her father. So, since she was already paid up through her second year of college, her father told her that she had to find a new place to live, and pay for the rest of her education; that he wouldn't support a girl who couldn't obey her parents wishes and be an asset to her family as she was raised to be. So that's the story with her, but now she's pregnant and once again, I can't help but worry for her.

I greet her as I open my office door. I swear she looks about double the size than when I saw her last week. "How are you feeling this morning, Taryn?"

"I'm doing okay, Professor Bruckner. Just can't wait to get these little babies out and to their rightful owners so that I can have my lungs and kidneys back."

I laugh. "I'll bet. Looking at you, makes me happy I wasn't born a woman."

"I know, but the men I'm having them for kind of makes up for it. I love a good love story, so anything I can do to help those guys while they help me, is an honor." she beamed with happiness, and I can tell that she means what she says.

"So tell me how you found these guys." I can't deny that I'm really interested in her story.

Michael and I were talking about adopting Hunter, the little hustler who has been staying with us from time-to-time. But Michael is still adamantly against the idea of Hunter becoming a more permanent fixture in our household. He said that if he was going to have children, he wanted them to be his. I guess I could understand why he would feel that way. Until I met Hunter and had gotten to know him, I had given up on any chance that I would ever have to be a dad to someone's kid.

So it doesn't really matter to me if Hunter and I are related, biologically or not. We basically share blood since we just found out he's positive, too. He's been staying with Deb and Vic, until I can convince Michael to let me take him in. 

"It was actually Lindsay, who introduced me to him. I haven't actually met the partner yet, but according to Michael, he and his husband are working out their problems so that they can raise the children together."

"How long have they been together?"

"Since they were fourteen, but they only just became exclusive a few months ago. Then there was this other guy for awhile. I think Michael calls him 'the twink, who wouldn't leave his husband alone' but he said that he and Lindsay made the gold digger leave Brian. He never did tell me how, even though I asked for future reference. But anyway, now he and Michael are all good again."

I felt the bile beginning to rise in my throat, as she rambled on. It had to be a coincidence of some sort, because I know there is no way in hell that Brian would have ever crossed that line with Michael, MY HUSBAND. Or should I say the man whom I considered to be my husband, up until this very moment.

"Professor Bruckner, are you okay? Do you need some water or anything?" She moved to get up, but I stop her.

"No Taryn, I'm okay. I'm just a bit stunned that this came at such a fortuitous time for you, or that Lindsay knew someone who would be willing to help you out of your situation. How much is this Michael..." I'm hoping that she says any other last name, but his.

"Novotny. Michael Novotny," she says, smiling at me. I smile back politely, when I'm feeling anything but.

"How much is Mr. Novotny paying you to help his husband... what was his name again?"

"I think he said his name was Brian... Kinney? Yes, that's it! Brian Kinney. I kept feeling awful about not remembering the guy's name. You see I've been reading in all the baby books that it's good to talk to the baby, while it's in the womb. I know I won't be a part of their lives, so I decided to talk to them about their dads instead."

I nod even as I sit here and try to get my head around this betrayal. I can't believe that Michael would do something so fucking underhanded as this! "That's a good thing to do, Taryn. So he's paid your tuition then?"

"A bit more than that, actually. He gave me seventy-five thousand, which is enough for school, Graduate school and an apartment in a nice part of town, until I can find a job to keep up with the rent. Since I'm getting a degree in International Business, it should be fairly easy to do. Plus, he's paid for the original procedure, and all of my checkups to date. The doctor told me last week that there is a good possibility that I will deliver early, because there's more than one baby. So I could probably be back in time for finals, or at the start of next semester." Gay Studies for her was an elective course, but has served her well this far into her curriculum. With the advent of Rage being able to go mainstream and the passing of the law allowing gays to get married, being newly out herself will only help her career ambitions further.

"Don't worry about it too much, Taryn," I assure her. "I'm sure that your other professors will forgive the absences. I mean, it's not like they would disobey doctor's orders in this case or any other, if the shoe was on the other foot. You just concentrate on remaining healthy, both before and after this."

She nodded, and then got down to the business of what was going to be covered in today's class. After she was gone I sat there, still fuming about what my so called partner has been up to. I can't believe the shit that he has been pulling. And where the fuck did he get that kind of mo--- Oh my God! Justin's money?!!! He paid Taryn with Justin's money?! I jump out of the seat, trying to calm myself down and trying not to think about the amount of time in jail I can get for murdering Michael, when my office phone rings. Looking at the caller ID, I have to admit that her timing is impeccable.

"Good Morning, Mel. How are you?"

"I'm fine. I have the information you asked me for about Hunter. You're kinda in luck because my colleague just left to go represent Rita Montgomery, in court." 

"Rita Montgomery... Rita Montgomery? No, it doesn't sound familiar."

"It probably wouldn't, unless you mention it to James Hunter Montgomery, her son."

"Wait! That's Hunter's mother? I thought he said that she was in jail for murder."

"He probably thinks that she was. He ran away about a year ago, after she stabbed his father with a kitchen knife. Because he had a history of domestic violence against Rita, she was able to claim self-defense. Ironically, they never tested her for drug abuse. It's just our luck that she was arrested during a drug bust last night, and is as high as four kites right now."

I smile at that bit of news. Hopefully, that means they will let me adopt Hunter. "Will they make her sign her rights away, at this point?"

"I'll let you know about that after I do some more digging into Rita Montgomery's background. I know that Hunter was in placed into foster care before, but she was able to get him back from the State, just before she began prostituting him out. It could be a cut-and-dry matter, unless she decides to fight you on it."

"Okay, that's good news... well at least, moderately so. But listen, you and I need to get together. Are you free for lunch?"

"Actually, I was going to go see Justin during lunch."

"That's even better, since I know where his money has been going."

"Oh? How do you know? Has Michael finally told you?"

"No, but the surrogate mother of his and Brian's children did."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Ben? Have you been drinking on the job? Lindsay isn't pregnant, and certainly not for Michael!"

"I know all of that, but apparently your wife knows more about this than anyone else, except Michael. I just had a very interesting meeting with my student, who just happens to be pregnant with babies that my partner paid for."

She's silent for a time before she speaks again. "Ben, what does Lindsay have to do with this? In plain English, if you please?"

I close my eyes as I relate all of the conversation between Taryn and myself to Melanie. I can tell by the harsh breathing across the phone line that she is having the same rage-filled reactions I had trouble controlling just moments before when Taryn was telling me the story of Brian and Michael's romance. When I finish, I ask her, "So what are you thinking, Mel?"

"I can't even describe what I think right now, Ben, as I'm sitting here in my law office wondering how I can get away with murder. But I think that I have a much better idea."

"And that is?"

"We need to go to the hospital now. Can you get someone to cover your classes?"

"No it's too late for me to do so, but lunch will still work for me since I'm free after that."

"Good. I'll have my secretary clear the rest of my day as well. In the meantime, I think I shall be calling that bitch I live with, and asking her to run a few errands for me. It's times like this I'm glad Brian and I found a way to coexist, without either of us being excluded from Gus' life. He still holds his rights and thanks to third-party adoption, I have the same rights as the two of them."

I wasn't aware of that, but I think it's great and tell her so. "So what should we do about Michael?"

"He hasn't been to your house this morning?"

"He wasn't when I left, but I don't know if he's been there since."

"Okay. Well don't be too concerned about him, for the moment. I think my client, namely Justin Taylor, will give me some idea of how far he wants to take this, now that apparently Brian is about to have another child- children- and this time against his will."

"Why would Justin have a say in that?"

"Because I suspect that Brian and Justin are still more than friends, although I can't prove it. But regardless of that, it was Justin's money that paid for Michael to have the privilege to play daddy."

The venom in her voice catches me by surprise. "You think there is more to this, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Let's just say that Lindsay is a little more invested in Taryn Charles' health and well-being than that of a concerned friend and mother-figure. And one thing I am absolutely sure of, is that there is no way in hell Lindsay would ever let some other broad have Brian Kinney's baby."

"What are you saying, Mel?"

I am intrigued, in spite of myself, by the way she thinks. I'm just a regular guy, and would never be thinking that it could happen any other way, except that Taryn's body released its eggs and the sperm went in to do what it does. Outside of basic biology in terms of women's anatomy, I really don't want to know or envision it. Or better yet, I don't even think I could imagine it if I actually did want to... Again, this situation with Taryn reminds me of why I like being a man.

"There are many factors to being inseminated, Ben. There, of course, is the requisite sperm and egg. But if someone else is being inseminated, other than the natural parents... let's say like a surrogate, the sperm and egg are matched until they take creating a zygote. Then it is implanted in the womb to grow. Therefore the egg doesn't necessarily have to come from the same woman's body that will carry the baby."

"You mean you think Lindsay used her eggs?"

"It's the only way to guarantee that Taryn has no legal claim to the children after birth. Basically, she is just the incubator."

"Why would you think that again, Mel? You never really said." I'm in shock at that the depths of depravity Michael and Lindsay would sink to, and all for a chance to entrap Brian Kinney.    

"Yes, I did. Whereas Michael wouldn't care who the mother is as long as it's his and Brian's sperm that gets him Brian Kinney's child, Lindsay is greedy and territorial in so many ways. She would never, EVER, let someone else bear Brian's child, if she could help it. If Taryn is pregnant with two babies, you can bet your last dollar that not only were Lindsay's eggs used, but Michael may or may not be one of the children's fathers. Lindsay has access to Brian's loft the same way Michael does, or should I say did. Brian changed the locks and codes some weeks ago."

"I think we better have the rest of this conversation with Brian and Justin, at the hospital. I have to get through classes, but will meet up with you later. If you get there before I do, don't start without me. No way I'm missing the fireworks your theory is going to bring."

I hear Mel chuckle on the other end. Even though both of us are hurting in our own ways, we still have to find the humor in this, otherwise we'll explode. "I won't," she tells me.

As we say our goodbyes and hang up, I move around to the picture of Michael's smiling face that I have on my desk. I caress it gently, thinking of all the hope and dreams I had with this man for my future. I realize now that I was nothing more than a placeholder to him, and now Michael will become less than that to me. He will be nothing! I take his picture and tear it to shreds, before dumping the pieces of my broken dream into the wastebasket.

I call the janitor, asking him to remove the garbage from my office and head out to my class before I have a moment to rethink my decision. Michael and I are history, but I'm gratified to know that soon Brian will be a part of his history, too. 

Chapter 14- Dark Horse

Dark Horse by Katy Perry

Lyrics

I knew you were/ You were gonna come to me/ And here you are/ But you

better choose carefully/ 'Cause I'm capable of anything/ Of anything and

everything/ Make me your Aphrodite/ Make me your one and only/ But don't

make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy/ So you wanna play with

magic/ Boy, you should know whatcha falling for/ Baby do you dare to do

this/ 'Cause I'm coming atcha like a dark horse/ Are you ready for, ready for

A perfect storm, a perfect storm/ 'Cause once you're mine, once you're mine/

There's no going back/ Mark my words/ This love will make you levitate/ Like

a bird/ Like a bird without a cage/ But down to earth/ If you choose to walk

away, don't walk away/ It's in the palm of your hand now baby/ It's a yes or

no, no maybe/ So just be sure before you give it up to me

Up to me, give it up to me/ So you wanna play with magic/ Boy, you should

know whatcha falling for/ Baby do you dare to do this/ 'Cause I'm coming

atcha like a dark horse/ Are you ready for, ready for/ A perfect storm, a

perfect storm/ 'Cause once you're mine, once you're mine/ There's no going

back

Written by Kyle Kennedy, Max Martin, Lukasz Gottwald, Sarah Hudson, Jordan Houston, Katy Perry, Henry Walter

•  Copyright © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Brian

Okay so here's the thing that Ethan never got: I gave Justin up. He didn't leave me willingly; I just made it impossible for him to stay just then. Instead of being grateful that I chose not to fight for Justin, the little shit tries to out-arrogant me, and publicly no less. The obvious difference between Ian and me is that I am a King in a world full of Queens. Ian is but a peasant chasing after the Golden Prince of our world... well such as it is in the Pitts.

And he will always fall short of his goal to claim ownership of Justin, simply because Justin Taylor cannot be controlled or contained.

Could I turn this into a competition? Absolutely. But will I? No, because I don't have a need to. All I have to do is present Justin with the facts of what he and I are- with or without sex- and he'll come back to me.

That's the lesson, which took me awhile to understand and embrace; a lesson that Paganini Junior has yet to know, or realize. Justin is a man- an intelligent, passionate and giving man, but he is also selfish when he has to be. He left me because he wasn't getting his needs met and I let him leave me so that he could. Don't get me wrong, I knew that Ethan Gold was a diversion that Justin needed to have in order to restore his self-esteem and manhood, in his own eyes, not mine. To me, Justin has and always will be strong and beautiful beyond measure.

And even though everyone sees him as a twink, they also understand that Justin has substance. They know that he would have to have hidden depths in order to keep me interested; for me to make it known that he was more, even without me saying the words aloud. But to me, their regard of him doesn't matter as much HIM knowing that he's MY twink. He always has been and always will be, no matter where he goes, or how old he gets, Sunshine is eternally desirable to me. But I could only tell new Justin that with so many words and actions.

The trouble really was that I remembered pre-bashing Justin, while Justin no longer knew himself at all. He often referred to himself as a stranger within his mind. And yeah, I suppose I could understand why he felt that way. Instead of knowing he was capable, he was wary of everything, including his own shadow. And yet while he was overly cautious in some things, he had no defenses left against people.

I would imagine that Justin was so desperate to make connections, because he stopped feeling connected to himself in any way. Of course, I didn't help matters by remaining aloof, and apparently at the wrong times since it allowed for Ethan to slither his rank ass between us. Anyway, Justin had to rediscover himself, had to make some hard decisions without guidance, and had to remember that he actually can bear the weight and consequences of his actions. The funny thing about Justin is that prior to the bashing, he had always done that, even if his initial motives were displaced to some degree, like with his parents. Justin was prepared to be miserable, thinking that their divorce was his fault because he couldn't and wouldn't change who he was to suit Craig Taylor's ideals for any reason.

But he would have sacrificed his own happiness if he could have both stopped the divorce, and still attended college.

Now on the surface, this may have seemed like a selfless act on Justin's part. And I will admit that his motives were somewhat pure for his mother's sake. But Justin still wouldn't have done what Craig wanted him to do. He would not have renounced his homosexuality; only would have changed the venue in which he displayed his love for cock openly and proudly, while getting his free education on his father's dime. Justin loves to fuck, and pussy just doesn't interest him.

There was no way he was going to practice celibacy for his tight-assed father's sake, especially since Justin loves nothing more than either fucking an ass, or having his ass fucked. The irony of that episode in our lives is that Justin turned into one hell of a businessman, without having to live out Craig's dream for him. Instead, by simply following his own aspirations and ambitions, Justin is already more successful than Craig Taylor will ever be. He'll get to shape his career into exactly what he wants, without anyone holding his sexuality over his head like an anvil, or dangling their approval in his face like a carrot. Justin is finally becoming his own man, and might I add that as sexy as I've always found him before, his newfound confidence is making him even more fucking irresistible.

As for my so-called ‘best friends', I can't help but notice their differences from Justin. He's never deflected blame the way Michael does, or shifted the focus away from his mistakes while expecting them to either magically disappear, or to be fixed; Lindsay does that. Justin owns his shit, lock, stock, and headache. It may take a while, but he does. I don't think Mr. Romance has figured out that Justin will always crave and need a man equal to him in every aspect of his life, finances notwithstanding. Justin and I don't allow each other to become complacent in our ambition, be it in business or in our pleasures.

It's what makes us great together, able to move and function as a team. But when Justin feels like it's more work to watch you destroy yourself than to help his lover out, Justin will leave. So no, I don't have to fight for Justin's affections in the traditional sense. I already have everything Justin wants and needs; he just has to be reminded of it. And who better to do that than the up-and-coming King in the world of Advertising?

The best thing is that Ethan Gold will never see me coming, but Justin will keep cumming, over and over again, and in every position imaginable.

I walk back into the room to see that Justin is awake. Taking my time to look at him, I wonder what he's thinking. "Did you want to see him?"

"Not now." he answers, as he toys with the blanket covering him.

The silence closes in around us, except for that of the machine beeping to monitor his heart rate. I look at it to make sure that he is still calm. It's been holding steady for the last few hours, so I know that my worst fears are over. When I see him staring off into nothingness, I can't help as the question escapes my lips. "What's on your mind, Sunshine?"

"You. What happened at the restaurant. If I still have a job. Can I even work there anymore, if I do? Take your pick; it's all there."

I cross the room over to him. Debating with myself for a few moments, I go to the other side of the bed and climb in. He doesn't stop me, and I'm gratified that he still feels safe enough physically with me to let me gather him into my arms to hold him. "I don't want you to worry about any of that right now, Justin. Even though we're... not together, you have to know that you don't need to worry about any of it."

"I know. But Brian, someone tried to scare the hell out of me last night." He begins to caress my arm, which makes me tighten my grip on his hip a bit more.

He's right. Someone did try to send him a message, but I don't want to add to his panic by agreeing with him outright. "Oh? What makes you think this wasn't a case of mistaken identity?"

He's silent for a few moments, as if trying to put the pieces altogether. "First, I'm the only one at work who drives a jeep."

"So? There are millions of people who drive the same make and model of your car. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does, Brian, when the person who did this came directly to my job and ruined MY car, which was parked in the employee parking lot."

Okay, I have to give him that. It was my original thought, too. "So let's say that you are right. Who do you think it would be?"

"Honestly?" I nod, and strangely, I'm unsurprised by his answer. "Ethan, but he would never do something like that. It would be too much risk to his hands and arms. He's got passion, I'll give him that, but it's reserved for Mischa."

"Mischa?" What the fuck is he talking about, and who the fuck is Mischa?

"His violin."

I laugh and roll my eyes. "Figures the pretentious asshole would name his fucking violin. So you don't think Ethan would do it?"

"No. This was done with aggression and rage, Brian. Ethan isn't like that."

"You never know, Justin. People never know what they're capable of, until pushed. But there is more to your thoughts, I know."

"Yeah, there is."

"Okay. Care to share?" I ask, when he falls silent again.

His deep contemplations have always worried me the most. It's not that I like Justin mindless. It's just that I know as the gerbil runs amuck in his head, there are decisions he's making. And he's weighing out the pros and cons of each one. I learned that the night we were in the Loft, and he asked me if I would care if he wasn't there anymore.

'It's your choice on where you want to be.' I could kick my own as for saying that to him, even if it's what I believed at the time.

"I need you to have Emmett and Ted go to Ethan's apartment, while he's in class."

"Why?"

"I need them to pack my stuff and take it to my new place. Emmett knows where it is."

That surprised me. I didn't know he had a new apartment, or even that he was looking for one. "I thought you were happy at the hovel with your new love."

"Ethan and I aren't broken up, if that's what you are thinking."

Okay, yeah that's what I was thinking, or at the most, hoping. "So what is it then, if not that?"

"I just decided that I needed to have my own place. Since I was seventeen- even before that really- I've lived with you, Deb, my parents and now Ethan. I need someplace to call my own, even if I never stay there."

It was my turn to fall silent, even as I thought of what he just said. I realize that I can understand what he means, and how he feels. Throughout high school and college, I stayed in the house of horrors known as Jack and Joan Kinney's house, or on Deb's couch or Michael's room, or even the dorms at school. It wasn't until I bought the loft, that I felt I had found where I belonged. Not having to live by someone else's rules, or provide an answer to anyone I felt wasn't owed one, was a wholly freeing experience.

So I think I understand where Justin is coming from on that score. "So just where is this marvelous place you've found? Some dump on Liberty Avenue?"

I feel his smile curve up on my chest, just before he answers. "No. I'll be living in Sewickley on the Schickle Estate. My house, so to speak, is at the back of the property. In exchange for payment, I'll be painting three murals, one of which will be done in California. I leave next weekend."

I couldn't believe what he was telling me. He's leaving? What about our agreement? "When were you going to tell me?"

"Since it's all fairly new, I hadn't decided when or if I was going to tell you. I've only known about it for a week or so."

"What about school?"

"All taken care of. Mr. Schickle is on the Board of Directors at PIFA, and arranged for me to consider the work I'm doing at his LA mansion as four classes. The other two classes I was taking were to be done online anyway, so I can work on them from anywhere."

I swallow hard. Pittsburgh without Justin in it, just wouldn't be the same. "You've thought of everything, I see."

"I have. Besides the time away will do me some good, with everything going on."

"And what about us, Justin? We have a deal." I shift my body to look him directly in his eyes. Justin could hide a lot from a whole heap of people, but his eyes give him away to me, every single time.

"We still do, but it's up to you how you want this to go."

"This was your idea, so shouldn't that be the other way around?"

"Not really, since I have to be in LA for the next four months. That's about how long it will take me to complete the mural."

"So what are you suggesting? I have to be here. I told you that I would be striking out on my own soon, remember?"

He nodded, his hair caressing my arm which was wrapped around him and held him close to me. "I haven't forgotten. I think you starting your own company is a brilliant idea and long overdo, you know that."

"You've always supported that."

"Yeah I have, but I thought you were going to wait a bit longer. What's happened?"

This was a part of a conversation I was planning to have with him, much later. It wasn't something that I wanted to discuss with him, while he was having yet another crisis involving a hospital bed. But I could see that my answer was of the utmost importance to him, and stalling wasn't even going to be an option here. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that. But in lieu of what he and I have been through in the last six months, I didn't believe that I had counted with him as I once did.

I should have remembered that Justin always makes friends, as if they are always going to be there for a lifetime.

The fact that Ethan became more than a friend to him, still rankles. But when I think about it, it kind of makes sense. Whether I admit it to anyone but Justin or not, even while we were lovers, we were always friends. As reluctant as I was to the idea at first, I'm glad of it now. I still have his trust, and the feeling is mutual.

"Gardner has taken on Jim Stockwell as a client, and I refused to work on the campaign. So as punishment for my insubordinance as he calls it, he'd been giving me his shit accounts to deal with, while he devoted his time to Stockwell, and the other big name accounts. The funny thing is that when I won Brown Athletics and wrestled the partnership from him, I had Mel look over the contract. If Gardner didn't agree to my terms, I would have walked away right then and started my own company. Part of the agreement was that I could have the freedom to not work with a client who went against my own beliefs, which clearly Stockwell does. In addition to that, if I walked, all of the accounts that I brought in walked with me if they chose to, and without legal recourse on Vanguard's part. There wasn't a non-competition clause anywhere in my contract."

"Wait! So that means that Brown, and any other company that you've brought in over the last eight months, goes with you?"

"Yeah, but they also have the freedom to choose which company they want to be with- Vanguard or Kinnetik."

"Kinnetik?"

"Yes," I tell him. "And I have you to thank for that brilliant name."

"You do? How?"

I smile at him in remembrance. "Remember the last time we played Scrabble and you beat me?"

"Yeah, I do. You were trying to cheat me out of points. It was one of the last good times we had before..."

"Yeah well. You played ‘kinetic' and so I just added the ‘n' and a ‘k' to replace the ‘c' at the end of it and voila ‘Kinnetik' is born. I've had Ted working on it ever since we caught wind that Stockwell was trying to nail him to the wall, and put Jerk-at-Work out of business. I advised Ted to sell the dotcom company fast, which he did to Garth Racine and got Emmett out of there as well. Stockwell came down on Racine a week later, while Ted and I were already up to our elbows in paperwork to form a new company. Now that all the paperwork has gone through, I have already had Mel contact Vance about dissolving the partnership with my share of the profits for over 80% of the clients. He had to pay me full value of their contracts, which left me a sizeable cushion. 70% of them decided to take a chance on me, which means Kinnetik already has a substantial client base, and has let me pay off the business loan already. We also have a new client, courtesy of Mel."

"Really? Who is it?" he asks as he looks at me in amazement. Wait until the little boy hears who the client actually is.

I chuckle. "The GLC is holding their yearly Carnivale, and wants me to do the advertising for it."

"But you hate the center, and especially the people who run it. Why would you agree to do this?"

"It's for a good cause, and I don't necessarily hate the center; just the people who run it."

"Same thing in my book. So again I ask, why are you doing it?"

I should have known that I couldn't fool him. "Okay, so the first reason is because they are paying me eighty-thousand to do it."

"Brian, they are a not-for-profit. How are they affording to pay you that much?"

"Their main benefactors just happens to be Garth Racine, and a few more of the A-gays. This is Garth's way of paying back the center for helping him out, when they chose to raise some important questions for the community to the mayor-to-be. You were mentioned, by the way."

"What the fuck? What do you mean I was mentioned?"

"They wanted to know why Hobbs was only given the slap on the wrist when it came to you. What he did amounted to attempted murder, and had any hetero citizen done what Hobbs did, they would have been charged according to the law. It came out that there was a cover-up that Gardner was not expecting. Four of the LGBT officers on the force, provided the information to the GLC. Neither Vance, nor any of Stockwell's staffers had knowledge of the questions beforehand. Vance thought to use me as his guiding light when it came to how to deal with the LGBT community for Stockwell, since I'm gay and make no excuses or apologies for being so. That said, I advised the GLC to call his police record within the LGBT community into question. It worked like a charm. Thanks to that, Garth's case was dropped, and considered a ploy to target the Homosexual community as a whole. Federal agents are also looking into Stockwell's service record thanks to Senator Baxter, remember her?"

"Yes, I do. Let me guess. Deb called her."

"Yeah, she did, right after the fall of Stockwell was broadcast on the 11 o'clock news. Who knew that Michael's stint as a Doctor's ‘wife' would pay off this way? So anyway, as Vance and the Stockwell campaign works to cover up his misdeeds, Kinnetik is moving forward."

"Wow! Congratulations, Brian. That's quite a coup for you."

"It is." My chest puffed out with pride, hearing the smile in Justin's voice as he cuddled me close. Okay so I don't mind it as long as he's the one doing it, and no one knows about it. "So do you think amid your busy schedule, you will have time to come up with a poster for the Carnivale?"

"Ah... I knew there was a catch," he says, laughing.

"Of course. It wouldn't be me, if there wasn't. So in exchange for let's say ten grand, do you think you can get the posters ready by next Friday? I would use my art department, but we're already overrun since everyone who came with us wants new campaigns. If Kinnetik is going to be set apart from Vanguard, it makes the most sense."

I could see him weighing his options. With his upcoming temporary relocation to LA, he can see the wisdom of having the extra cash. Mel is still working his case against Michael, but that may not be done for a couple of months. Actually maybe not until he returns to the Burgh. Plus with this new place he's got, I'm sure that he will want to pay for it in advance.

"Yes. I'll do it, Brian, but you'll have to tell me exactly what you want. I've never been to Carnivale before, although I've heard of them in Aruba and Brazil. We were supposed to go to the one in the Bahamas when..."

"Yeah," I say, knowing exactly when we were supposed to go. He had won the King of Babylon contest a week before his prom, and had he not been almost killed and endured countless hours of physical therapy, we would have gone to the Bahamas as we originally planned. Maybe someday we'll finally get there, but I can't afford to hope right now since Justin's life is taking yet another turn that we didn't expect. This time it's a good one though. "So how about it? You want to work with me for old times sake? One for the road, such as it is?"

His smile is everything to me as he answers, "Sure, Brian. If you have my messenger bag, I can get started on it now since the doctor wants to keep me for another day to make sure there aren't any lasting affects from the meds they gave me, or another panic attack."

"I think Ted still has it in his car."

"Then I guess you'd better call him and have him bring it when he comes to collect the key to get my stuff out. Ethan will be in class until 6:30, so there is plenty of time to get my things out of the apartment."

I wanted to ask him ‘why the rush?' but then I remembered that although Justin is a person who thinks things to death, he is also one who acts quickly once the decision is made. I've always hated and admired that about him, but since I do the same exact thing, I can't fault him for it. I'm just glad that he agreed to work with me on this campaign. We were always magic when we worked together on things for Ryder. Fuck, that seems a lifetime ago.

Justin just gets me; I can admit that to myself now. As long as he doesn't know, I can live with that.

I call Ted, who in turn will call Emmett and Justin's mom to let them know that the slacker has finally woken up. Justin clamped the IV and allowed the remaining fluid to enter his body before unhooking the mechanism. He then removed the clamp from his finger, which was monitoring his vitals. I watched him in amazement at how deftly he prepared himself to leave the bed, curbing the urge to tell him to be careful not to pull anything out. It panicked me to think of how many times he may have had to do these things during his last stay at Chez Allegheny.

I stop him just as he puts his legs over the side of the bed to put Ted on hold, and briefly reassure the nurse on duty that Justin is okay and about to take a shower. She asks me if he needs assistance and I respond with a quick shake of my head then lock the door. I usher him to the bathroom, for my own peace of mind, as I'm contemplating my final demands of Ted. I tell him that I don't want Deb here yet, because that means she will bring Michael with her. I heard about the ass whipping he received last night courtesy of Daphne.

Emmett also told me all about them figuring out what Michael said at the party, and I was actually relieved. I know that when it first happened, I let everyone assume the worst, let them all think that I had finally gone over the edge of sanity, instead of just dangling at its brink for the last five years or so. It was easier to let them blame me, and and point their fingers rather than to explain to them that little Mikey was not so innocent; easier to let them believe that I was the actual devil than to have to face the reality that their little angel had fallen long ago. So now that they all know, it shouldn't be any wonder why I want Mikey to stay away. Justin and I just don't need the negativity today.

I retrieved the extra washcloth and towel Ted was thoughtful enough to go back to my place for last night. He not only grabbed me a change of clothes, but grabbed a pair of sweats and some toiletries for Justin, too. I walk into the bathroom where Justin is setting up the water for his shower. Seeing him in that hospital gown, I can't help but feel happy that he's alive and still intent on kicking life in the ass once again. As I disconnected the call with Ted, I reached out, pulling Justin back into the shelter of my body.

"I'm okay, Brian." He looks back at me and smiles.

"I know," I respond, pulling him even tighter against me and burying my face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm..."

"Stop, Justin." I knew he was about to apologize for having to call me, let alone scaring me. "Don't you know by now that I wouldn't have it any other way?"

He turns to look at me, and at this moment, whatever vulnerability I feel, I'm not willing to hide from him. Not this time; not in this moment, within in this place that I have visited countless times without his knowledge. Regardless of how much I loathe the messenger, Ian was right about one thing. If I had taken care of Justin, he wouldn't have had a chance to slip his slimy ass in between us. I know that I have to work at it, but I'm finally willing to...

"Don't, Brian. Whatever it is we're doing right now, is enough. Whether it is wrong to some or right to others, it no longer matters. It's what we both need for as long as we need it. Whatever comes after is just between us, and it's not going to be decided today. So don't, okay?"

Sometimes I forget how well he can read me... When I allow it, that is. It's always been there and he may have forgotten for awhile, but I can see that uncanny ability to read the things that I would rather keep hidden, coming back to him every time we're together. I want it back now; I wish it had never left! But he's still looking at me with those crystal blue eyes, waiting for my answer to just go along with his desires for now.

After all we've been through, I guess I can give him this. I change the subject, and I can tell from the faint huff of laughter, that he's letting me. "So you're leaving in a week, huh?"

"Yeah, I am."

"So how do you want to do this? It's your show."

"You're asking me if I'm willing to give you up for the months that I'm away?"

"I guess I am."

"Let me think on it awhile. I'm sure I'll come up with something. But for right now..." He reached behind him and untied the strings that hid the front of his body from my view. Justin loosened his hand from behind my neck, long enough to let the unattractive garment fall to the floor, before bringing his arms around me again. "When was the last time you played ‘Doctor?'"

I chuckled. Justin had the most adventurous and wild ideas sometimes. "Well, I don't know. Would you like me to check your tonsils, little boy?"

That sly, sexy grin parted his luscious lips as his hands caressed the front of my shirt, stopping to pinch my nipples before travelling further down. Loosening my belt and unsnapping my jeans, Justin had my cock out before I even have time to put my head back and close my eyes. The first tentative touch of his tongue on my tip has me taking a quick inhale, to control myself. Justin's mouth- be it kissing, licking or sucking- has always been my addiction. I can already feel myself leaking, in anticipation, of what he has in store for me.

He licks every inch, using his tongue to bathe it and provide enough lubrication for the easy slide he craves. Once he's satisfied that I'm coated in his saliva enough, he takes me into his mouth, guiding me all the way back, before coming back to the top. He releases the head with a ‘pop' before letting his eyes travel to mine.

"I'm ready for my examination, Dr. Kinney," he says in that sultry, slutty tone I love.

I reach down to caress his cheek, holding his eyes with mine. "You want me to fuck your mouth, little Taylor?"

"Yes," he hisses, just before taking me back into his mouth.

I grip the back of his hair, and slowly pump into his waiting mouth. His lips are like the fluffiest pillows, as I glide back and forth. He moans against the crown on each descent into the hot cavern. One of his hands creeps up to up between my legs to play with my balls, as the other continues its ascension, scratching lightly along the way. His eyes never leave mine as I bend my head to wet the fingers of his hand before the lower to my nipples.

All of the sensations alone can drive me to distraction, but altogether they drive me near the brink of insanity. Justin knows this, and kicks his ministrations up a notch. Before long, both of my hands are locked behind his head, and I'm fucking his mouth furiously. The fact that Justin doesn't have a gag reflex is both my joy and my curse as I drive into his waiting mouth. I feel the tremble in my thighs as I try to slow down my pistoning hips to stay my impending orgasm, but Justin is having none of that.

He begins a low hum in his throat, which vibrates my balls and inspires them to give up their contents. I can't stop and as I look into Justin's eyes, I can see that stopping is the last thing he wants me to do. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, thinking that would help the situation, but it only made it worse. Justin hollows his jaws around my dick, adding suction to my already frenzied movements. I can feel my thrusts become disjointed as the essence pours out of me, and into him. 

Hellfire and damnation, Justin has to be the most talented cocksucker in all fifty states! Or at least our corner of it! Even as a novice, he was always able to unman me almost as quick as we started, controlling me carefully up passion's peak, then making me fall over the edge against my will. And it seems that he has only gotten better with time. I feel him release my spent dick, placing one last single kiss on the tip before rising to his feet.

Without a word, he brings our mouths together. His tongue plunges deep into mine, sharing my taste with me in one of the most carnal kisses we've ever shared. I can already feel my cock refilling as he moves his hands along my body. He breaks the kiss and stares into my eyes. "I think my tonsils checked out okay, Dr. Kinney," he says, cheeky smile firmly in place.

"No doubt about, Mr Taylor. But I think it's time to take your temperature."

I strip off the rest of my clothes and lead him into the shower, making sure that he's steady on his feet. It's been awhile since he and I have had shower sex. I miss it. I miss every single part of our morning routine from the mutual blowjobs to waking him up by rimming him; from the fast, frenzied fucks to the slow, sensual ones we've always had in the shower. I know he's anxious to rekindle them as he steps underneath the water.

While I retrieve the lube and condoms from the toiletries bag Ted brought, I remember the first time I ever watched the water sluice down his lithe form. I had never been so envious as I was of the little droplets which clung to his soft skin. As I soaped him up that first time, I had a pang of regret that we wouldn't get to shower together again at a later time. My no repeats rule was firmly intact then, but little did I realize that Justin was my own personal Get Out of Jail Free card. He broke every single rule I had, and a few more I probably should have had to begin with.

Feeling his hands on me now, I can't even remember why I had any of those uneducated 'failsafes' in place.

After Justin rinsed me off with the detachable shower head, I turned him around. Applying the shampoo in my hand, I work up a good lather before running my fingers through his hair. To hear him moan under my fingers was an instant aphrodisiac. Justin was always my slut when I would wash his hair. As I bend him over to grab the showerhead, I take the opportunity to slip a slick finger inside of him.

The slight hitch of his breath as I continue to push my finger inside of him, before adding the second finger, is music to my ears. Once I finish rinsing his hair, I drop the showerhead and grip his longish locks from behind, while he begins to ride my marauding fingers. "Brian dammit, quit playing around and fuck me," he shouts out as hit his sweet spot.

"But I thought you liked playing ‘Doctor.' Shouldn't you let the doctor decide when it's time to stick the thermometer in?" I ask him, as my hand leaves his head and I open the condom with my teeth. He's becoming more out-of-control by the second. I can't deny that I love when he does.

"Fuck you, Brian. If you don't.....oh my God." His words are cut short, as I replace my fingers with what he was near begging for.

I waste no time with building up as Justin is already riding my cock for all he is worth. It is all I can do to hold on right now. Although we were together only three nights prior to his hospital stay, Justin's body craves cock constantly. I can't help but be gratified by that since it's been that way since I first broke him. He's still the tightest ass I've ever fucked and the hottest man I've ever been with.

Insatiable doesn't even begin to describe Justin Taylor. But I have to wrest control back from him, before I spill much too soon for him to be satisfied. Tightening my fingers on his hips- which I'm sure is bound to leave bruises- I fuck into him hard, attacking the bundle of nerves that will bring him to the brink fast. Just as I know he is about to shoot, I slow down. I can't help but laugh at his curses as his orgasm recedes.

Taking it from the top, I set the rhythm and pace I know he'll feel long after I'm gone. I move us back to the shower wall and settle him on my thighs as I continue to pump into him. Changing rhythm and direction mid-stroke, Justin finally gives himself over to me fully. Easing back, I stir into him as his moans and sighs reach my ears. I continue the easy pace knowing that doing so will heighten his arousal even further.

Gripping his wet hair again, I bring his head back to bite the nape of his neck where I know his hair will cover it. He hisses out his pleasure as I do it again, and gradually increase my rhythm. By the time we reach that steady pace, Justin is chanting, "Fuck me, Brian. Please...please fuck me," in such away where I know that he's mentally entered that place where only he and I exist. I can't help but respond to his entreaty in kind, as Justin's ass clenches and releases my sheathed cock within him.

Using his arms as leverage, I piston him harder, going deeper, and tapping against his prostate with every pass. He's pushing back into me again, eager and begging for more, saying those fucking nasty and dirty things that always make my blood run hot. Justin Taylor has a filthy mouth, and I make sure to reward him for it with a firm smack to his wet rear. The sound of that slap, and the squeal of delight that left him reverberated around the enclosed shower stall, making me want to do it again and again until he spilled his seed into the puddle of water pooling at our feet. So I did, and his release triggered my own as I came in the condom encased within the tight channel of his ass.

I feel him trembling with satisfaction, his near insensate body pressing into me, holding me up against the wall. My own legs feel like jelly as I try to keep us both upright. Justin recovers first and reaches out exhausted hands to shut off the water. We come out of the shower both a little light-headed and definitely giddy as we dry each other off. Then I take care of his five o'clock shadow, which has grown in while he was sleeping.

"That was nice," he says as I dry his face to remove any remnants of the shaving cream.

"Nice? I don't do nice. I do hot. I do indescribable."

"You do me." His smile is almost blinding in the room, and I am once again reminded of why he is Sunshine.

I've missed that smile more than I ever thought I would. But rather than express the lesbianic sentiment, I lean in and kiss him. I've always believed that actions spoke louder than words and although Justin needs words sometimes, I know he understands me right now. So Ethan Gold can believe that he has the upperhand with Justin all he would like to, or that I don't know the man he thinks he's stolen from me. There are many facets to the enigma that is Justin Taylor, and I doubt that his self-absorbed little ass has begun to scratch the surface of even one.

I pull back and smile at him- a real smile, not the one I project to the world- but the one only Justin and Gus get to see. And I know now by the look in his eyes at seeing it, he's definitely heard me. We came out of the bathroom, none too soon as Ted and Emmett began knocking on the door. Although Justin's hair was still wet, mine was reasonably dry. Granted if they sniff a little too closely, they might actually notice that Justin and I smell the same, but Rosencrantz and Guildenstern won't be able to pinpoint that as evidence of Justin and I fucking.

Ted only brought one type of soap back from the loft. But if he had looked in the drawers beneath the towels and other linens, he might have found Justin's soap and other personal effects that I hadn't thrown away when he left. But I'm not about to tell him that.

"I was about to call the nurse for the custodian. Why was the door locked?" Emmett asks.

"I know that you wouldn't have cared if anyone burst in on you while you were showering, but Justin is modest that way," I say back. Justin- the twat- just snickered before climbing back into bed and rehooking everything.

"After the backroom exploits of the two of you, I didn't think there would be any modesty left," Ted joined in. "Anyway though...how are you feeling, Justin?"

"Much better, Ted; thanks for asking. And thank you for everything yesterday."

I rolled my eyes, but I know that Ted knows what Justin is speaking of. Prior to all the drama that landed Justin in the hospital, Ted discovered that Michael had been spending Justin's money paying some hospital bills that were clearly not his own. Ted talked to an accountant friend at his former job Wertschafter's Associates, who handled the hospital accounts, and was told that Michael had paid cash for some lady. Because of the sum, it had thrown up some red flags.

"It was no problem, Justin. I promise to do everything I can to make this right for you. Had I been looking at the books more frequently, I would have seen all this mess with Michael, and stopped it before it got out of control."

"Ted, you can't blame yourself. Michael had everyone in this room fooled. The important thing now is to hold him responsible for it."

"Well, be that as it may, I still apologize for it." 

I interrupt, before I begin to need a bed next to Justin. "Self-pity makes my dick soft, so can we please get to the reason I asked you two here in the first place?" 

"Brian...cool it, will you?"

"Justin seriously, get on with it already."

"Fine. Emmett, I need you and Ted to go to Ethan's apartment to get my things out of there."

"Are you and Ethan finally over?" he asks Justin. I can't help the relief I feel in knowing I'm not the only one who wants that violin-playing scuzzbucket to hit the bricks. 

"No, we aren't. But I do want to go home to my new place, when I'm released from here. I have to figure out how I'm going to get a new car to get back and forth into the city, but I want to go home."

"Don't you think Ethan will have something to say about that?"

"Of course he will, but it's my decision. Ted, did you bring my messenger bag up with you?" Justin asks him, and I'm once again amazed at how he's growing within himself. 

I'm not happy that he won't be living with me again, but I understand his reasons for wanting to live alone for awhile. He digs into the bag Ted hands him, and fished around for the key. I notice that although there are several others on his keyring, the key to Ethan's place is on a lone chain with a violin hanging from it. Again, I feel the urge to roll my eyes. But I can't help to think of what that means, in terms of Ethan and Justin's entanglement.

"Everything you need to gather up is in one corner of the apartment. The lockers detach from each other, and shouldn't be that heavy or difficult to move. The other set of keys has the one to the Schickle tiny house. It should be outlined in green. Do you think you guys can move it all by six today? Ethan has class until 6:30, but I don't want you in the apartment when he gets there. He should come to me if he has questions, not corner the two of you for answers."

"Don't you worry your pretty blond head about it. Teddy and I will have it done in no time. Oh Teddy, you are so going to love Justin's new place...."

Before he and Emmett can be on their way though, a couple of newcomers arrive. Mel and Ben looked relieved, but pissed as well and I can't help but shudder to think of what dear old Mikey, and his cunty sidekick Lindz, have been up to now.

"Ted, Ben and I discovered where Justin's money has been going. And her name is Taryn Charles," Mel announces.  

Chapter 15: Possession Obsession

You know there's something you need/ Right here and now/ To fill the space inside of

yourself/ Money love or power/ When you want to have the number one first run

anyone

You're crazy 'til you own them/ You ought to know better than that/ The more that you

buy the less you get back/ The compulsion to count the percentage of time/ Spent

between two lovers/ Can turn an hour into a crime/ And all the good times suffer/

Though you know it's only jealousy/ You can't help but be/ Haunted by your passion/

Don't you know it's a matter of fact/ The more that you take the less you give back/

It's a case of Possession Obsession/ Just a taste of possession obsession/ Brings a case

of possession obsession/ Gimme Gimme

Written by Daryl Hall, John Oates, Sara Allen

•  Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Michael

I was pacing outside of the fucking music building at PIFA, waiting for that greasy-haired musician to show himself. It's taking everything in me not to run in, and yank his ass away from whatever the fuck he's doing in there. He had ONE job... Only ONE! And as a result of his failure to keep that blond bastard away from Brian, I'm sporting a black eye and a bruised chin!

I wouldn't be surprised if that fucking bitch, Daphne, broke a couple of my ribs when she stomped me in the chest. Who knew that the little bitch was so vicious? But then again, I probably should have expected it since she's friends with a troll like Justin Taylor. The problem is that I can't sue her for the damage she caused me. She's a college student, and it's not like they have a lot of money.

Her parents probably don't have any either, despite the fact that they live in the same upscale neighborhood as Justin did. Plus, I know that the family would ream me a new asshole if I did. It doesn't matter that she assaulted me for speaking the truth. They are angry at me because I did! Which brings me to a whole other problem: Ben.

How dare he take my name off the mortgage?! I paid my part of the down payment- or rather Justin did- but that's beside the point! He owed me that at the very least, but could he just let bygones be bygones? NO! He couldn't!

So now I'm back to sleeping in my old room back at mom's house... Well, at least until Brian moves me into HIS loft. Regardless of everything that is happening between me and Justin, Brian would never let me be homeless. He'll take me in. I just have to find a way to get him alone and talk some sense into him, especially about this whole power of attorney thing.

It's just one more way that Boy Wonder keeps getting his hooks back into my best friend, and soon-to-be life partner. I really do love Ben, but he could never, would never, measure up to Brian. No one ever could. I have to find a way to make Brian see that we were meant to be from the moment we met back when we were fourteen. Now that Ben has removed himself from my life- or seems to have done so, in any event- it's time to get that fucking blond out of Brian's life, for good!

I see that little washed up boy, known as Justin's boyfriend, coming out of the building. He looks rather cozy with that black boy he's talking with, but that's not my problem. If Ethan is cheating on Justin, it's no more than he deserves for what he did to Brian! The tall boy leans down to stare into the musician's eyes, and I have to admit that it's tempting to let Justin know of this little scene, just to see the look of despair and heartbreak that will no doubt flit across his face. Perhaps if he was as absorbed and concentrating on Ethan as he should have been, maybe I wouldn't be getting sued for his share of the profits in Rage.

The same logic applies to Ethan. If he had distracted Justin the way he was supposed to, perhaps I wouldn't be losing everything that I hold dear- my business, my family, my friends. I see them share a brief kiss, and I know that if I don't interrupt them now, the opportunity to get my life back to the way it should be will slip through my fingers. "Sorry to interrupt, but Ethan, we need to talk," I say, loud enough that I know he can't ignore me. I can't help, but fold my arms and glare at the little asshole.

"Lee, I have to go. We'll catch up at class later." I hear him tell the disappointed boy, as he turns towards me and moves away. My foot is tapping uncontrollably as I continue to regard his approach. He looks well-rested despite the fact that his boyfriend is in the hospital. Based on how Lee looked at Ethan when he turned away, I can only assume why. I recognize longing when I see it. "What are you doing here, Michael? And can we make this quick? I can't be late for my Music Composition class," he tells me.

I roll my eyes at him. "As if I really give a fuck whether you are late or not..." 

"You should, since I am planning on asking Justin to come with me when I win the competition. That would leave a clear path for you to Brian's bed, wouldn't it?" he sneers.

"If you had done what I PAID you to do in the first place, that path would already be fucking clear!" I shout at him.

Ethan Gold doesn't fool me, not one fucking bit. He has just as much to gain by maintaining a relationship with Justin, as I did. As grudgingly as I have to admit it, the co-creator of Rage is going to be very well off someday. Justin is extremely talented, and no matter how much I try to downplay or disregard it, he has a bright future drawing to make a living. I can't say the same for Ethan, even if he did get into this school for elite artists.   

"Look, whatever you think of me for accepting your money, I really do love Justin. That money was- rather is- earmarked for our escape from all things Kinney. But I couldn't help what happened last night. I just got so fucking angry, after talking to Lindsay, that destroying Justin's car seemed to be the right thing to do," he stammers.

"You?! You mean you are the REASON he ended up in the hospital last night?! You..." I can barely contain my anger as I stare at him, seething. "You fucking ASSHOLE! Do you realize what you did?! You provided the reason that Brian is stuck playing nursemaid to Justin again! Now Brian will never leave his side, you fool!"

"What the fuck is it to you if he doesn't?" Ethan shouts back at me, before lowering his voice. "I saw your man last night. He's a good-looking dude. Why would you give that up, or jeopardize that relationship for a whore like Kinney?"

"My reasons are my own! But thanks to your colossal fuck-up, we have to come up with another plan."

"Well, I hope you have one, because I sure as hell don't. Justin is hell-bent on remaining friends with certain members of your ‘old-heads' group. And he is extremely stubborn about it. He says that no matter what I feel, he will not cut everyone off simply for my own peace of mind. I'm working on separating him from Daphne, but after what I saw last night, I may have to rethink that."

"That little bitch is going to get hers," I growl at him. Ethan is right though. Without Daphne in the picture, Justin would be more open to reason. He's always been the type to be easily led. I mean, look at what happened with Rage and the profits. Because I managed to gain his trust, I was able to reap all the benefits. "Maybe she's the reason..."

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing." I shake myself out of my reverie, getting back to my business, and the real reason I'm on this fucking campus with teeny-boppers a little under half my age. "Look, you owe me, so do your fucking job! Either convince Justin to leave Brian alone, or return the fifteen grand I paid you to break them up in the first place."

"Or what? You're going to sue me the way Justin is suing you? If you do that, then you'll have to explain where you got the money from in the first place. Now, I will do what it is you asked, but ONLY because I want Justin with me. Your money will provide a vehicle for that. But you might want to convince Kinney to remove the ban from around Justin."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I haven't spoken to Brian since before we all arrived at the hospital for this new crisis in Justin's continuing drama. Fucking Boy Wonder!

"I went to the hospital this morning, only to be told that I couldn't see Justin."

"Why the fuck not?!"

"According to that arrogant prick and the bitchy nurse on duty, they are treating what I did as a crime. There isn't any way I can get to Justin until he's released from the hospital."

"Do you know when that will be?" I can't believe that they are taking this shit so fucking seriously.

"No, I don't. Kinney refused to give me any information, even though he has it all."

"Nevermind, I will find out myself. You just make sure that you DO YOUR FUCKING JOB when he gets out! As for Brian, I'll make sure to keep him occupied. I am his best friend, after all."

He looked at me strangely before uttering, "Yeah, right," and walking off before I could say anything else.

I watched him go, narrowing my eyes and trying to gauge if he told me the truth or not. I honestly don't know what to believe where Ethan Gold is concerned. He reminds me of a smarmy used car salesman; the type to say anything to get what they want. I don't fucking trust him. But I know exactly who I can call to get my questions answered without seeming as if I'm fishing for information on Boy Wonder.

Pulling out my cell phone, I dial Ben's number. I could always trust him to tell me the truth of things. He's honest that way. I let it ring the four times, and am surprised when it keeps ringing. It means that he isn't in class, because otherwise his phone would have just gone straight to voicemail.

Ben is a creature of habit and would have picked up by the fourth ring, if he was available. So I hang up, and dial it again. "What do you want, Michael?" he answers.

Okay... So I wasn't expecting him to still be angry. I smile, hoping that it will calm him through the phone while I ask him what I need to know. "Hi, Ben. I was wondering if you and I could have lunch together. I think we need to get back on track with our relationship. I know that what I said last night about Boy... I mean Justin, was mean, but I was just upset. I really want to come home." He's silent on the other end for a time, so quiet that I actually thought that he hung up. I looked at the screen of my phone, only to realize that it is still counting the minutes since the line has been opened. So I know that he's still there. What the fuck is he doing?! "Ben?"

"Yeah I'm here, Michael, but I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to say that you forgive me, and that we can put this all behind us."

"I can't do that."

"Why not? This has nothing to do with you and me; this is a Justin problem."

"No, this is a Michael problem. And frankly, I am tired of dealing with it," he tells me.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?!"

"Just what it fucking sounds like, Michael! You have a choice to make: Either you give up this obsession with Brian and Justin's relationship- a situation that is really none of your business anyway- or we're through."

"But Ben, Brian is my..."

"Best friend," he cuts me off. "And yes, you're right. Brian is YOUR best friend, but you are certainly NOT his!"

Before I can even process what he says, I lose my temper. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about! Brian and I have been best friends since we were fourteen! You were only his trick! What the hell makes you think that you even know Brian enough to speak about him like this?!"

"Apparently, I know a lot more than you, Michael. But you know what... nevermind this entire conversation. I need to know where to send your shit because I want it out of MY house!"

"IT'S NOT YOUR FUCKING HOUSE!!" I yell, watching as people pass, laugh, and point at me while I'm talking to Ben. I really need to get the hell off this campus now that my business with Ethan is finished.

"Contrary to what you think, and as it has already been explained to you, the house does indeed belong to ME. But then of course, you didn't listen since your mouth is always running. It's amazing really. The stuff that you are supposed to hear, you can't seem to process. But with things that are absolutely, unequivocally none of your fucking business, you are amazingly attentive! You really should see someone about that problem you have, Michael, since it's bordering on insane. I'll send your shit over to your mother's."

He hangs up on me, and I can't help but stare at the phone in shock. How fucking dare he?! This is not the man I have been involved with for the past year. That Ben would never have talked to me that way! I don't know what crawled up his ass, but he needs to fix it quick, because I will not move back into my mother's again on a permanent basis, especially now that she is seeing that fucking cop.

But then again, maybe being there will come in handy.

Ben

I can't even believe that the little fucker had the nerve to call my phone, trying to wheedle me into letting him come home. Okay, so I can believe it! And had I not found out all that I've found out this morning, I might have caved. "How could I have been so fucking stupid?"

"Don't beat yourself up, Ben," Mel tells me. "I'm kinda in the same boat you are. The major difference though, is that you were smart enough not to inadvertently involve a child. The fact that Lindsay and I have Gus makes leaving a helluva lot more complicated."

I can literally feel the sadness flowing off of her in waves. I can't imagine being with someone for ten years and suddenly feeling like you've been duped the whole time. I grab her hand as we walk to the hospital entrance. "Don't worry, Mel. We'll figure something out."

"I don't know how. Even with the third parent adoption and custody agreement that Brian, Lindsay, and I have, if he and I can't prove that Lindsay endangers Gus, we're stuck with her, and she will definitely make our lives hell. I wish there was some way we could make Lindsay really pay for what she's done."

"Providing ovum for nefarious purposes, stealing sperm, and fomenting entrapment, really should be punishable crimes," I say.

We look at each other, and I know that just as I'm thinking of Lindsay being prosecuted, so is Mel. I can just about hear the excuses she would come up with to justify her actions. I guess Mel can too, because the next thing I know we're both laughing. Between Michael and Lindsay, it's a wonder and a gift from God that we have managed to maintain at least some sanity, and a little sense of humor. Without either one of them, I think Mel and I would have ended up wearing state-issued bracelets and matching orange jumpsuits a long time ago.

"If what they did was punishable by law, I'm sure they could have earned fame appearing on ‘World's Dumbest Criminals'. But I think that Lindsay actually outsmarted herself this time," she tells me.

"Oh? How so?"

She cleared her throat before speaking. "Like Michael, Lindsay tends to overlook Brian's intelligence and his vicious nature when it comes to revenge. They tend to see him as the young man he once was, who needed constant reassurance. Although BrianKinney grew up in a two-parent household, it was still a broken life in a lot of ways. As a result, Michael, and then Lindsay, took advantage of Brian's inherent need to be needed. Since you weren't around when Justin first came into our lives, and probably only received an abbreviated and biased opinion from Michael, I will give you my own version. It will be closer to the actual events, rather than what lives in Michael and Lindsay's fantasies. Originally, the three of them were like super glue- where you saw one, you saw the others. Sure Michael and Lindsay had their moments of jealousy over Brian Kinney..."

"What do you mean? I thought Lindsay had grown up with the two of them."

Melanie shook her head. "No, Brian met Lindsay at college. And because they were both in the closet- at least publicly, for the sake of their parents- they formed a bond. Lindsay was Brian's beard and vice versa. Although Brian fucked guys at college, he was pretty discreet in comparison to how he has been in the years since taking Gay PA by storm."

"Okay, so that explains a little more about why Michael would have felt threatened by Lindsay's presence. But why the other way around?" I can't help but be fascinated by Mel's take on the obsession-possession competition between Michael and Lindsay for Brian.

"In order to tell you this, I have to admit I've been lying to myself for as long as Lindsay and I have been together. I cast Brian into the role of enemy- which he shouldn't have been- to give credence to my own denial. Lindsay is bisexual, although she has yet to acknowledge it. Being with Brian allowed her to merge her worlds- so to speak. She could be involved with a man the way society always expects, especially within the WASP nest that Lindsay and Justin were born into, while not sacrificing those urges to be with a woman."

"But that doesn't make sense, since bisexuals don't view sex the way a hetero or homo does. Am I right?"

"That's very true, Ben. Although they would be physically attracted to both sexes equally, they have none of the hang-ups that we homos and the hets do about girly parts or boy bits. For Lindsay, it is more about what her parents think than it is the people she hurts by not staying true to herself. She's physically attracted to both Brian and me, but a man- or in this case Brian- would be the perfect husband for her, while I would be the perfect mistress, since Brian and I actually do share similarities. God Almighty, help me for saying that," she laughs.

I smiled at her. "So you're saying that if given the choice, Lindsay would have picked Brian to marry?"

"Yeah, I am. The sad thing is that I used to hold him wholly responsible for it, even though he never encouraged her in her heteronormative fantasy. He did fuck her once in college, but you know boys at that age. The wind would blow too hard and bam, they're hard. And since a stiff prick knows no conscience, he did what any other college-aged man would probably have done in that situation, especially one with the sex drive of a runaway freight train."

I nod at her candor about the nature of Brian's relationship with Lindsay. "So Michael was jealous of Lindsay and vice versa?"

"Michael thought that if anyone could turn Brian ‘straight', it would be Lindsay. Lindsay was resentful because if Brian was truly gay, which we all know he is, he wouldn't be interested in her sexually. She's missing that crucial appendage for Brian to even blink twice, which Michael has."

"So how do you think they arrived at working together?"

"Oh, that's easy. Take the youthful exuberance that is innate to Michael when everything is going right in his world, the same breeding and education that Lindsay has, then add a fucking near-genius level IQ, an insatiable appetite for sex, with intrinsic beauty and sex appeal that hasn't even begun to be cultivated yet, then you get..."

"Justin Taylor," I say, finally understanding what has held Brian enthrall, even against his will. "Well, now we know why it's so important for them to keep Brian away from Justin."

She nods at me. "Neither Michael nor Lindsay pose a threat to the other. They long ago decided that neither of them will ever have enough of what it will take to make Brian choose one over the other... this baby business and Gus notwithstanding. Brian will never want Lindsay, because she wasn't born with a dick and balls; he'll never want Michael, pretty much for the same reason. Ooh... I'm sorry, Ben," she cringed while apologizing, but I just wave it away. I'm learning just how correct Melanie's observations about Michael and Lindsay are since I've noticed these same things myself, but never put it all into this comprehensive perspective. She continues, "But with the advent of Justin in our lives, Michael and Lindsay see a young man who literally has all of the qualities that made Brian fall hard for him."

"Made? Don't you mean ‘make?'"

"No, I mean made. Brian may not know it or if he does, he hasn't acknowledged it yet even to himself, but he does love Justin. He's in love with Justin enough to see that the young man has what he needs, even if it means pushing him away to go after it."

"You're talking about Ethan, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. But I believe there is more to that situation than meets the eye, too. Do yourself a favor, and watch how they interact when we go into the hospital room. I think you will find some of the answers to the questions floating around in your head," Melanie tells me, smiling.

"How did you get so smart about all of this?"

"It took me a while to see things as I do now. That's not to say that I am Team Brian Kinney all of a sudden. He and I will still disagree loud and often. But we have a few common goals, and a few people whom we love very much and would do anything for. One of them is upstairs, lying in that hospital bed."

"So how should we broach this delicate subject?"

I can see the gerbil in her mind doing backflips and forward rolls as she crinkles her forehead, deep in thought. I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into how she processes the information she's given as a lawyer, playing out worse case scenarios, and preparing a rebuttal to every argument. I can also tell when she has made a decision by the very Kinney-esque smirk on her face, and it's then when I notice how much she and Brian really are alike.

"I think we should attack this head-on, Ben. Neither Brian nor Justin care much for suspense, unless they are reading or watching a movie. We have to capture their collective attention from the onset. Although each have the ability to zone in and concentrate on a multitude of things at the same time, when they are together in the same space their main focus is centered on each other. I always found it funny how they always know, without turning around or seeking out the other, when one of them has entered a room. Their senses gravitate toward each other automatically."

I nod again. "I noticed that too, when Justin was working at the diner. No matter what Justin was doing, it was always as if he could tell when it was Brian who had come in the door. He would get this slight hitch in his breathing, and his smile would always shine a little extra bright. Based on your description, now I understand why. I've never had that with Michael," I say, and I can't help but feel a little sad that I didn't.

"Don't feel bad, Ben. Even after all these years, I can't say that I've ever had it with Lindsay either. There was this one woman though... but she's long gone out of my life."

I can feel her sudden sadness, and I can also tell that this isn't the first time she's thought about that mystery lady. I take her small hand in mine as we board the elevator. As soon as the door closes, I force her to look up at me, and am amazed to see a little tear in the corner of her left eye. "Mel, perhaps when this is over, you should seek her out. I know it may be hard to admit or accept, but our relationships with Michael and Lindsay are over. Now I don't know about you, but I intend to find what Brian and Justin have for myself. Maybe it's time that you do the same."

The door opens on our floor, and as we step out I can tell that she's thinking about it. I watch in amazement as she pushes the thought to the side for the moment, and pulls herself together. She looks at me again, smirk back in place but with narrowed eyes heralding the advent of Dyno-Dyke into our midst. I can see that I'm now looking at Melanie Marcus, pissed-off-Attorney-at-Law instead of Mel, the scorned and disillusioned partner of Lindsay Peterson. Again, she's reminding me of Brian Kinney, but this time in his Rage persona, and I have to tell you, it's pretty fucking scary.

Well I suppose I can definitely call up the residual angry feelings I had indulged when I was dealing with roid-rage and John's death. I can honestly say those same feelings of hopelessness, despair, and desperation, assailed me for brief moments earlier after speaking with Taryn. But now all I feel is anger at Michael and Lindsay. Anger at what they did to me, absolutely. But more so for what they have done, and are trying to do to Brian and Justin.

Those two really have some fucking nerve!

We can hear Justin, giving last minute instructions to Ted and Em regarding some place and Ethan. He's moving out? I guess he is, since I hear Em reassure him that they would get his belongings before Ethan gets back to the apartment. Mel pushes open the door, immediately addressing Ted.

"Ted, Ben and I have discovered where Justin's money has been going. And her name is Taryn Charles," Mel announces.

The silence in the room is deafening as Mel's words sink into each of the occupant's brains. Even I still can't believe what Michael has been up to. The fact that Mel thinks Lindsay is involved, and the reason why, is abhorrent. Justin is the one who breaks the silence first. "Who the hell is Taryn Charles, and what has Michael been doing? We know that he isn't paying to fuck her."

"In a manner of speaking, he isn't, but she's bound to get fucked anyway. Unless we can come up with something else," Mel tells him.

"Why don't we start from the beginning of what Mel and I know, and then hopefully we can all fill in the blanks to get a more complete picture of what the Dastardly Duo have been up to," I tell the group as a whole.

Emmett checks his watch, and grabs one of the two chairs in the room; Ted grabs the other. Mel and I sit side by side, on the loveseat. Thinking that Brian was either going to sit at the foot of the bed or stand at the window, I'm surprised to see Justin move over at the head of the bed and fluff a few pillows before Brian sits down beside him. Although the action is completely innocent and natural, its effect is not lost on the rest of us. I can't help but think back to what Mel said, while we were on our way up here.

Brian and Justin have never stopped loving each other. And it's never been more evident than in the care both of them are showing for each other, even while their actions just seem like basic human kindness. Once they're settled in, all the focus in the room has returned to Mel and me. While I'm filling the group in on my talk with Taryn this morning, Mel's phone rings. I notice as she rolls her eyes, and sends the call to voicemail.

It happens seven more times, before Brian finally breaks. "Mel," he says softly, but we all can see that he's fuming beneath the surface, "is that work-related?"

"No. It's a combination of Lindsay and Michael. You would think the fact that I am not answering would alert them to the fact that I am busy, and don't have time for their shenanigans."

"Then either take the calls, or shut the fucking thing off." Even in the soft command, we all flinch at its forcefulness. We're even more surprised that Mel hasn't taken umbrage with his tone, which is a clear indication to me just how serious we are all taking this latest round of foolery.

She nods, but before she has a chance to turn her phone off, it rings again. She looks down at the caller ID, even while Brian draws Justin a little closer, and curses up a storm. This situation is clearly getting to him, and it's evident that he isn't the only one. I can tell that Justin is deeply affected by the story of Taryn Charles, and how she fits into all of this. They are conversing softly, as are Ted and Em.

Emmett is ready to march out to find Michael to beat the shit out of him. Or at the very least, alert Debbie so that she can. Ted is trying to talk him out of it, saying that they should hear the rest of the story first. Mel takes the call, mouthing to us that it is her office calling. After a series of ‘Uh-huhs' and ‘Did she reallys?' she hurriedly ends the call with a brief, "Let me know if there is anything else. In the meantime, I need you to contact Mason Cowell. I think this is going to get a lot uglier. No, you don't have to call him, since I'm with him now. I'll let him know. Thanks, Sherry."

She disconnects the call, and sits there stunned for a few minutes, before Brian finally asks her, "Do we even want to know what that call was about?"

Mel takes a deep breath before responding, "Apparently, Ms. Lindsay Petersen-Marcus has been extremely busy this morning. Not only did she accompany Taryn to her appointment, but she even managed to squeeze in lunch with her father's attorney, James Wallace."

"Is there some reason that particular meeting should be important? And why call you about it?" Justin asks. I think I have a feeling why Mel was informed, but I really want to hear what she has to say firsthand, not speculate about it.

"There is definitely a reason this is important. I suppose that Lindsay has forgotten that Sherry and Candace, who just happen to be both mine and James' secretaries, are sisters, and tend to speak several times a day. Candace was on the phone with Sherry when my wayward wife came in for her meeting with James. When Sherry asked why Lindsay was seeing her parents' family attorney, Candace- who can't stand any of the Petersons, with the exception of Ron- had no qualms about pushing the intercom button, and the speaker button on her cell phone. Looks like Lindsay can add conniving, cock-riding cunt to her resume. When they finished, James began to advise her on divorcing me, and reclaiming full custody of Gus, while making sure that both Brian and I still paid her child support. Sherry made sure to press the record button on her phone as well, and has sent me the audio clip."

"Gotta love those smartphones," Emmett said. "But if I'm not mistaken, that recording won't be useful unless one of the parties knows they are being recorded, right?"

Mel smiled, and I could see the viciousness in her eyes returning full-force as she looked at Brian, who has an equally devious look in his hazel orbs. Apparently the implication also occurred to Justin, whose Sunshine-bright smile is nearly blinding in its quality. "Let me guess," Justin says, "Candace has a standing order to record any and ALL meetings with any Peterson family member, and therefore permission for the audio is automatically given, since by law only one of the parties has to know they are being recorded. If that's the case, and James didn't rescind his instructions given to Candace on some previous date, Candace did the proper thing in taping the meeting and therefore, it's admissible in court."

"Damn, I've taught you well, Justin. You are absolutely correct in everything you said. The fact that Sherry also recorded it, is another matter. But since the dictation company James uses keeps a running record of all the things they transcribe, it will not be hard to have those records subpoenaed. Not only will Lindsay be losing in the divorce, but she will also lose Gus," Melanie states with an even brighter gleam in her eye.

"Um? How so?" Brian asks.

Melanie gets up and hands Brian her cellphone, after pressing a series of buttons on the screen. As expected, we all get up from our various seats and surround the bed to get a better view of what Mel opened up for Brian to see. "Oh my God, what?! Where.... Oh my God, Mel, what the fuck is she doing?! And with Gus in the car?!"

"What's the problem, Kinney? It's been so long since you've seen heterosex that you no longer recognize it?" I can hear the bitterness in Mel's voice, and I reach out to draw her closer to me. I can feel her burying her nose in my neck, inhaling my scent which seems to be calming her. I knew there had to be a reason that I prefered that chamomile and tea tree oil fragrance. I'm glad that I can be a help to her, even if it's in this small way. Finding out that the person you thought you knew but really didn't, hurts like a motherfucker. "Keep watching guys," Mel says, snuggling even closer to me.

"Is there a way we can fast-forward this shit? I feel my dick getting soft and my balls are trying to disappear into my gut looking at this. Plus you're warping the youngster's brain. Justin may never be able to draw the female human form again, without throwing up every six seconds. You'll stunt his growth! Hell, I may not be able to look another straight person in the eye again without wanting to run fucking screaming for the nearest cock," Brian gripes. Both Mel and I share a giggle at that. Leave it to Brian to come up with plenty of colorful colloquialisms to ease some of the tension. "Oh my God, she changed positions. Justin, save me!"

We all burst out laughing as we watch Brian, trying to burrow himself behind Justin's back to keep from viewing any more of Lindsay's literal mommy porn.

"Get up, Goof!" Justin laughs again. This must be a side of Brian that no one else knows. I suspect that even Michael doesn't know about this Brian, who is so far from his worship-warped image of the man. "Mel, before we lose Brian's brain entirely thanks to the yuckdom on screen, can you tell me where this came from?"

"Gus' car seat and the rearview mirror," she answers, and I have to admit that I am even a little confused, at first. But then...

"Oh my God. You mean she's been fucking with Gus in the car?!"

She nods, and then explains where the cameras in the car are located. "Both of them have a live feed function and a record-for-later feature. I originally got it so that if I was feeling a little down during my day, I could watch a little of Lindsay and Gus from the desk; so that I wouldn't feel like I was missing so much of his formative years. The original purpose changed a few months ago, though. With Sam Auerbach in town for an art show, my trust issues regarding Lindsay and the artist came back full-force. I didn't trust the bitch, especially since they had a brief affair before. I know that she said she had ended it, and I believed that she did at the time. But all of the recorded footage proves that I was absolutely right to do this."

"How many instances are in this folder?" Brian asks. 

"Twenty-eight from the last three weeks. It doesn't include all of the men prior to that," Mel answers. This has got to be the most fucked up situation.

"Why did you stay?"

"Why else, Brian? Gus. First and foremost, forever is Gus."

"Fuck that, Mel! You shouldn't have to put up with her cheating ass, simply for the sake of keeping the peace, or sacrificing your happiness for the benefit of someone else. It's bullshit!"

The room has gone suddenly quiet, after Brian's explosive all-too-brief diatribe. Too quiet. The words, nor the implications were lost on anyone in the room, especially not the man sitting next to him, whose face went blank immediately with Brian's accusations. Pasting a polite smile on his face, Justin spoke. "Brian is right, Mel. You deserve a whole lot more than that."

"Justin I...," Brian started, but Justin held up his hand.

"No, Brian. You're right," he says, shifting his eyes to the wall clock. "Guys, I hate to break this up, but my doctor should be in at any moment with my pain med. So after Ted and Em pick up my stuff, and if it's alright with all of you, we can reconvene a little later after I've had a chance to sleep a bit."

"Justin..."

"I'd really like to be alone when the doctor gets here."

I watch Brian look into Justin's eyes for a few moments, and the emotions roiling through both men are so close to the surface. I wish they would just have the argument already, but I know they won't. I can see the resignation in Brian's eyes when faced with the most inscrutable expression I have ever seen on Justin's countenance. I've never seen Justin's face so blank! And yet everything he's feeling at this moment, can be felt just by the mere act of standing here in the same room with him.

Without another word between them, Brian gets up and leaves the room. After pleasantries exchanged and promises to come back later, we all follow Brian out into the corridor. Or we thought we did, except that he seems to have disappeared. The nurse said that he left, and didn't leave any instructions except to guard his list of acceptable visitors. It looks like it's going to take even longer to figure out how to deal with Michael and Lindsay, especially if the two men who will be most affected by this travesty don't get their shit together... and quickly.  

Phoebe

Oh my God, I don't know what to do. Ethan is my friend but... I can't believe what I just overheard between him the loud brunet man! Justin was right about that man- Michael, I think his name is- there is so much hatred and jealousy within him! But what does it say about Ethan, who took money from the guy to break Brian and Justin up?

I know that I'm supposed to meet Ethan in the breakroom before our next class, but honestly, I don't even want to be around him right now. At least, not until I really process what I've learned and heard these past fifteen minutes. In this short amount of time, all that I thought I knew about a boy I've been friends with pretty much all my life has now officially been destroyed. What he did to Justin's car was just... I can't even say what it was!

I'm just so angry about it; I wish Daphne had hit Ethan, too!

What kind of friend does it make me that I would wish violence on someone I would have thought of as my brother? I wish there was some answer to what I should do now. To most people, my choice would be so simple. Ethan is not the most well-liked boy. Many consider him contentious and pretentious, but regardless he is still respected for his talent here on campus.

More importantly though, he's been my human diary for as long as I can remember. I've shared secrets with him and a love for a great many things, including music. He's my artistic soul mate, and my best friend. However, our shared history has now come down to obeying the law, or honoring a life-long loyalty between us. We all suffer in the end, simply because of two men who couldn't curb, or resist their own obessions.

Because of Michael, Brian lost Justin. And because of Ethan's willing culpability in Michael's scheme, Justin has lost himself. I have a feeling that by the time this is all over, the two men which Michael and Ethan are working so hard to possess, are going to begin fighting back. There are bound to be casualities, and I really don't think anyone is ready for the fallout from Brian and Justin's rebellion. But the question still remains: what should I do with what I know?

My decision is going to bring Ethan's exposure, sooner or later. I just have to decide if I can live with the consequences of saying something, or doing nothing. No... definitely not an easy decision.      

Lindz   

Well, that meeting with James was as satisfying, as always. He really knows how to handle me. The talking portion of the meeting was equally informative. All I have to do is prove Mel an unfit guardian for Gus. Brian as well, which actually might prove a bit more difficult.

But if I can strike up a deal with him, it may all work out in my favor. Now, how to spin this? I could go crying to him, and tell him that Mel is cheating on me again, and I want out. But then if she's licking some chick on the side, it really wouldn't have anything to do with Gus; just as me fucking men doesn't. No, that wouldn't be a good way to go. 

I could bring up the fact that she's working so much, we barely see her anymore. Yes... But then he would just ask me who's paying the bills. No judge would see anything particularly wrong with the main breadwinner of the household pulling some extra hours to make ends meet. I just have to find some dirt on her; it has to be there.

As for Brian, well if he doesn't agree to my terms regarding Gus, and his other soon-to-be children, he can kiss Gus goodbye. Brian's lifestyle, and his public persona, are enough to deter anyone from willingly giving him custody of children. Whereas me, I am the soul very of discretion and an upstanding WASP, even if I am also a lesbian. I still have a little clout in high places. Brian will always be that boy born on the wrong side of the tracks, no matter how successful he becomes. 

Now that Justin is out of the picture- he would have opened up the same doors I would have, and possibly even more- Brian is bound to welcome me, and my connections into his life even more fully. At least, he'd better be! I'm through playing nice, hoping that Brian would see my value as a wife while staying with a woman who no longer satisfies me, or has any more use to me than Michael. And that's another problem... Michael.

I don't know what it will take for him to give up this fucked-up fantasy he has of him and Brian being together, romantically. There is nothing about him that Brian would find remotely attractive. The way he dresses alone makes me cringe. I mean, he's a grown man for fuck's sake and his idea of dressing up is the latest superheroes sweatshirt or a polo tee-shirt, jeans, and a pair of Converse sneakers?! How ridiculous!

How could he even think to be able to hold an intelligent conversation, when he has the IQ of Gus' rattle? What could he possibly have to talk about that is interesting, except admitting that he is a criminal who stole money from a struggling college student? That's really the only thing that Michael has ever done which could make him somewhat interesting on any level. And we all know that he would be so busy bragging about it, that it would never occur to him how his thievery would make Brian look in the process. Michael would do exactly what he did when he was with David.

In his continued quest for self-importance, he will come off looking like a snobbish, uneducated asshole. While he would think everyone was agreeing with him or seeing him as an asset, they would really be pitying Brian for being attached to the airhead. I know, because I found myself doing it one more than one occasion, with both David and Ben. Michael doesn't have breeding or class like Justin does, which is exactly why I needed to get rid of him. A few well-placed and well-timed suggestions, and my bidding was done just as it was last night.

It's amazing how easy it is to play obsessed men, especially those clingy fuckers like Michael and Ethan. While they are too busy trying to one-up each other in the desperation and stupidity departments, I am making definitive and strategic moves to have everything I've ever wanted; everything I fucking deserve, and was born to have. I will have the gorgeous rich man, the adorable son and heir, and access to a hefty bank account so I will NEVER have to nickel-and-dime again, within my grasp at long last. And this current fucked-up situation with Melanie will then be but a distant memory. I just have to keep to my plans, but first, I need to get to my appointment at Dr. Struthers.

Doing the depo-shot, every three months, has been absolutely wonderful. I'm able to fuck as much as I want, and Melanie is none the wiser since there's almost no chance of me getting pregnant. It makes what I'm planning to do to her during the divorce even more sweet. I leave a message for her to pick up Gus on the way home, since I plan to be very late again tonight. Sam is back in town after all, and we have a standing date for another fuckfest. Fuck, I can't wait!    

CHAPTER 16: CRANES IN THE SKY

{Verse 1} I tried to drink it away I tried to put one in the air I tried to dance it away I tried to change it with my hair {Verse 2} I ran my credit card bill up Thought a new dress would make it better I tried to work it away/ But that just made me even sadder {Verse 3} I tried to keep myself busy I ran around in circles Think I made myself dizzy I slept it away, I sexed it away I read it away

Away/ [Refrain 1] Away, away, away, away, away Away, away, away, away, away/[Hook 1] Well it's like cranes in the sky Sometimes I don't wanna feel those metal clouds Yeah, it's like cranes in the sky Sometimes I don't wanna feel those metal clouds [Verse 4] I tried to run it away Thought then my head be feeling clearer I traveled 70 states Thought moving round make me feel better [Verse 5] I tried to let go my lover Thought if I was alone then maybe I could recover To write it away or cry it away Don't you cry baby

Away [Refrain 1] Away, away, away, away, away

Away, away, away, away, away [Hook 2] But it's like cranes in the sky

Sometimes I don't wanna feel those metal clouds Yeah, it's like cranes in the sky Sometimes I don't wanna feel those metal...

SONGWRITERS

SOLANGE KNOWLES, TROY JOHNSON, RAPHAEL SAADIQ

Justin

I've been gone from Pittsburgh for about three weeks, and I'm already missing him. To say that Brian and I weren't on good terms when I left would be an understatement. It's not even that we argued; it's that we haven't. We haven't even spoken more than twenty-six words to each other every time we've seen each other since I was released from the hospital. Admittedly, every time he tried to explain his comments to Mel, I shut down.

It wasn't that he wasn't right; just that I'm still dealing with my own culpability in the matter. He told me that when I'm ready to finally listen, then he'll speak. I just nodded and let the matter go. At least, physically I did. Mentally... well, that's another story.

Being in Hollywood Hills, at the moment, is exactly what I need. Here, I'm gaining much needed time to think, to reflect, and to make some core decisions about how I want my life to go from this moment on. Of course, leaving home wasn't easy, even though it was what I needed to do. The day I got out of the hospital, I went to Ethan's to return his key only to find him staring at the empty corner where my things used to be. 

"Something you want to tell me, Justin?" he asked, still staring ahead as if the space was suddenly foreign to him.

"I think the space being devoid of my belongings says it all, Ethan. But I guess I owe you an explanation at least."

"You're damn right you do!"

"Fine, Ethan. Here it is: I need to be on my own for awhile."

"You mean with Brian..."

"No, I mean on my own. I went from living in my folks house, to living with Deb, then to living with Brian, and up until now, with you. I need my own space."

"But Justin, I thought we were good the way we are, Baby. I loved coming in from school to find you here cooking, or drawing, or whatever you were doing. I really want you here!"

I can still hear the plaintive note he injected into his voice. I think he expected me to just give into it as I had in the past. I couldn't. This was my way of reclaiming myself; to not be anyone's anything. I just simply needed to be my own man in practice as well as theory, for once. 

"Sorry Ethan, but you don't get a vote."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I think we need a break from each other. There is such a thing as too much togetherness, you know."

"That's bullshit, and you know it!"

"No it isn't, Ethan. The bottom line is, I can't sleep here with you in the apartment, and I still have to work and go to school during the day."

"Speaking of school, how are you paying for it?"

I could hear the accusation in his voice, like he already knows. But it's also like he feels that I should somehow be ashamed of what I'm about to say. "Brian and I have a contract. We've had one in place, since before you were born to me."

"So terminate the fucking contract, Justin! Can't you see that he is trying to buy you back to him?!"

"He's doing no such thing, Ethan. You don't know anything about it..."

"I know that you are nothing but the whore's WHORE, if you continue to accept his money!"

"Is that what you really think? That because I accept his help where my own father wouldn't give it to me, it makes me his whore?"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"But that's what you said." I told him, while removing the key from my pocket, and placing it on the countertop in the kitchen. "And on that note, it's time for me to be going."

"No, Justin... Baby, we can work this out. You don't have to leave. Between this lawsuit and the bullshit with the car- no wonder you are having nightmares! I told you being around THOSE people wasn't good for you. We can go to a counselor together to talk about your nightmares. I don't want to lose you!"

"How the fuck did you find out about the lawsuit? Nevermind, it doesn't really matter anyway." I remember sighing in exasperation, first, because someone is, once again, speaking about MY business behind my back, and secondly, because Ethan was showing just how clingy he really is. I have to wonder if I was ever like that with Brian- this stunting and stifling stone, suffocating Brian. I knew that I needed to get out of there right away, before I gave into the urge to yell at him. My need to assert my independence was not his fault, although his behavior enhanced and reaffirmed my decision to move out. "Ethan, I just need some space right now."

"No! You need me, and I need you here with me! You're my muse, Justin," he said to me, and suddenly I felt disgusted with the phrase.

I suddenly understood why Brian snickered and winced at the same time, when I told him what Ethan called me. Ethan used the sentiment as a catchphrase, and to inflict guilt to get me to bend to his wishes. Even though Brian is my muse and source of inspiration even though we aren't together anymore, I would never use that knowledge to try and trick or trap him into staying with me. Michael and Lindsay both do something similar to Brian all the time; I wonder if he'll ever figure that out. Going back into my memory, I continue to analyze my last conversation with Ethan.

"Ethan," I said, praying for patience, "Don't think of this as a separation, but preparation. You have your competition coming up. You'll need all the practice time you can get, be it at the studio or here at your apartment."

That seemed to have gotten through to him. "Okay you're right about that. But you don't have to move out, Baby. I need you here."

"No, you don't. And I need to be somewhere where I can scream or paint at will, or just sleep if I can, Ethan. I need to be on my own."

"So where will you be staying? Can I have the address? I don't even know where this studio where you've been spending your nights is."

"I would prefer if you didn't, Ethan."

"What's on Tremont?"

That brought me up short. Why would Ethan ask about Brian's place? And how does he even know about it, since I never told him where Brian and I lived? "Why?"

"It's just... nevermind. So, can I have your new address so that I can still see you everyday?"

"No, Ethan. If I want to see you, I know where you are and we'll be at school. It will be like we're really dating. No one just fucks and moves right in."

"You did." He sneered at me, but I refused to take offense because he was right to an extent.

Sure, it took me awhile to move in. But I see now that Ethan and I were really only based on fucking. Sure we had conversations about school and life, but really... How much has he actually lived compared to me? That's one of the things I really need to think about, while I'm here in L.A.

My mind continues to drift back to the apartment, and the conversation that made leaving him behind a bit easier.

"And that's why I am moving out. It wasn't fair to you or to me, Ethan. I should never have moved in here, knowing that I wasn't ready for it."

"So where will you be?"

"Around."

"That's not an answer, Justin."

"But it's the only one you're getting, Ethan."

"Fine! Go ahead and leave! It's what you do best anyway!"

"You're probably right. I leave when a situation, or conversation no longer serves its purpose. But I also leave when I need time to grow and flourish; to come into my own as a man. So if insulting me and my penchant for leaving your apartment is what you have to do so that I can grow up a bit more, feel free to do so. It doesn't change the fact that I'm going to my house."

"And how did you afford your own place anyway? Oh, let me guess... Brian?!"

"For your information, Brian doesn't even know where I live."

"Well at least, there is that."

"Why should it matter if he does?"

"Because you are mine, Justin!"

"No, Ethan. I don't belong to anyone, other than myself. That's something that you have never learned in all the time we've been together. I may have wanted to be claimed, but not at the expense of my mind and the ability to make solid decisions for myself. I hate to say it, but Brian understood that, and until you learn it, we will always be at an impasse about this. I'm going home."

"What am I supposed to tell everybody?" he asks, back to using his piteous voice again.

"Tell them whatever you want."

And then I left, closing the door with him standing on the other side with his arms folded and a pouty mouth to rival Michael's, and the instant tear-filled eyes to give Lindsay a run for her money. I just couldn't take any more conversation about my decision. Not for the first time I began to really understand and empathize with how Brian must have felt when having to deal with both Michael and Lindsay at the same damn time. It was unsettling! Which brings me to the conversation about what to do about Michael and Lindsay.

Mel told Brian that until the babies are born, there isn't much he can do legally, if there is anything he can do at all. Technically, it wasn't breaking and entering, since Lindsay had a key that was given to her by the homeowner. The catch is whether he has a case because the key wasn't used for its intended purpose, and that's what needs to be proven. For Brian's part, he's ready to seek custody of Gus based on the videos of Lindsay fucking while he was strapped into his carseat. Mel asked him to think seriously about that for a time, because Brian's work schedule will be hectic with one kid, but now he faces the possibility of having three to care for by himself.

Let's face it: Brian will be a great dad. He already is with Gus, but he's worked his ass off to get to where he is in his career. I can't see how he is going to make it work. Sure we'll all help him in some form or another, but it will still be all Brian. The good news is that Mel also has custody of Gus through the third-parent adoption, and that will help both of them in the long run.

But with the new children, if Brian cuts Lindsay out, where would that leave him?

Ben has already made moves to dissolve whatever he and Michael owned together, and had Ted liquidate it so that Michael will receive his share in a check, so he could officially be done with him. Deb came by the hospital to ream him out for making Michael cry and whine. So we all had no choice, but to tell her what little Mikey has been up to with MY money. At first, she couldn't believe it, trying to come up with every excuse known, and unknown, to man; anything to NOT hold Michael responsible in his own drama. But then when faced with the written proof of receipt copies and the like, she couldn't dispute Ben's feelings in the matter.

Of course, she tried to turn all the blame to Brian, but again none of us would let her. I love Deb, but I'll be damned if I can understand how she could be so blind to Michael's machinations. How does one inspire the thievery of sperm, and then the use of said sperm to aid in entrapment? I know that somehow it happens in hetero relationships all the time, but we're gay men for fuck's sake! Now that I think about it, and as Mel has already pointed out, this has the handprint of Lindsay all over it.

As confused as she is about her sexuality, she's definitely clear that she wants Brian Kinney.

I really feel bad for Mel in all of this. She's done everything, tried to be everything that Lindsay has ever wanted or needed, and because of an obsession on Lindsay's part, she's going to end up alone. Ben said that he's finally going to give that Pos-Men's group a try, so he has a plan to move forward again, even though he loved Michael. Melanie deserves someone to love her the way Lindsay never has; the way she never could. Ironically, I understand Lindsay's motivations since I grew up in that bloodsucking, self-stifling environment, but it doesn't mean that I agree with her use and treatment of Mel or Brian.

Underneath it all, my Dyno-Dyke has a heart of gold, and a strength of will that I have seen diminished daily as long as I've known her, which hasn't been very long. I really wonder who Mel was before Lindsay got ahold of her. I wonder if she'll ever be able to find that person inside of herself again. I certainly hope she will, so that she is never taken advantage of, or for granted again. 

Then there is where I fit into all of this. Based on the math, one or both of those children could be mine. Brian and I haven't talked about it vocally, but I know he's thought about it. I don't know whether to wish it so, or pray that they aren't. Ever since I discovered that I was gay, the question of impending fatherhood was wiped clear out of my mind.

It wasn't until I saw Brian with Gus the night he was born, that it even became a question again. Right now, being a dad in any form isn't on my to-do list. I have too many irons in the fire to devote all my time to children, which is something I would want to do. Babysitting is one thing; you can spoil the hell out of them and give them back. But parenting is something else.

My mom is a prime example of putting your life goals, dreams, and wishes on hold to take care of home and hearth. I don't know that it's something I could do. But then again, there are a million single parents out there, like Deb, who make it work daily and they are to be admired for that. I just don't want to be selfish with a kid involved. I don't want to become another Craig Taylor, who didn't even know we were alive until he needed us to do something for him, like playing the happy conservative family for his business associates at a country club function.

I don't want to become the man whose love was conditional, dangled like a carrot in front of a hungry horse, and based upon how well we performed to his standards and specifications. As soon as we thought differently or acted as an individual instead of a Craig-bred robot, we were disregarded and disabused of the false sense of security we grew to expect. I'm glad Mom and I are free of him, and even though Molly isn't until she reaches her majority, she's a smart girl and will undoubtedly be able to handle the man I used to call ‘Dad.'    

When I arrived home that night after leaving Ethan's place, I actually breathed a sigh of relief, seeing all my things scattered about. Em and Ted left a note, telling me that they left the foodstuffs in the cupboards and refrigerator. I'm still amazed that for a tiny house, with a little over 430 square feet, it sure has a lot of room. I requested that part of the triangular roof be replaced with quadrupled paned glass as well as most of the walls in the front of the house to give me lots of light to draw and paint by. It even has a loft, for either guest or storage, on the other side, a full bath, kitchen and laundry facilities.

All the glass in the house is tempered, in case I ever decide to move the house off of the lot it's on. In short- no pun intended- my house is perfect and exactly what I need.

     (Layout to Justin's tiny house is on far right)

George really made sure that I wouldn't want or need for anything. I had put notice in at my job as effective immediately, since I just couldn't bear to work there any more. After hearing about what happened from Em and Ted, he and Malcolm purchased new paints and canvases to replace the ones that were in the trunk of my former jeep, figuring I wouldn't want any physical reminders of what happened. He was right. When I offered to write him a check to pay him for the items, George waved me off; told me to think of them as a benevolent benefactors, since they are determined to sow into my career.

I couldn't help, but smile at both of the men. Their belief in my art is as strong as Brian's, and I can't help but be grateful for it. And even though I live on the Schickle property, I'm still far enough away that I have my privacy. But still close so that if I needed them, George and Malcolm are readily available. That made me feel a lot better.

The night before I left for LA, the two of them arranged a special dinner for me and invited Em, Daph, Ted, and my mom. They asked me if I wanted Brian to come, but I told them that it was better for both of us that he didn't. It wasn't that I didn't want him there, but just the opposite. I would have loved to see him, to touch him, to look into his eyes for reassurance that accepting this commission wouldn't separate us even more than we already are; to know that in spite of it all, we were still friends. I just didn't want everything we said, or didn't say, scrutinized even by our staunchest supporters in this non-relationship we seem to be teetering on the brink of.

I can't help but be leery about it all, and I think he knows that.

So here I am driving down the street in sunny California, in the car George gave me permission to use while I'm here, replaying all of the events that happened before my departure. I won't deny that I miss home sometimes- well specifically Daph, Em, and yes, even Brian- but some new things have also been happening here since my arrival. The neighborhood, although quiet, is also teeming with big name stars. I think I got a little star struck my second day here. I mean Ben Affleck actually waved at me while I was walking around the neighborhood, so yeah...

This is definitely a different world than what I'm used to. Since Hollywood Hills is located on the northwest end of LA, there are remarkable views and a million things to do. Yet it still gives me the peace and quiet I need right now. My biggest surprise- although it probably shouldn't have been- is that Brett Keller lives right next door. Apparently, he and George share Enrique the gardner and Brett asked if George had come back to LA. So now Brett knows that I will be here off and on for awhile working on the mural for the Schickle Estate.

He came by a few days into me being here, and wanted to talk about the movie. I told him that I would rather wait on it for a month to see if I could settle things with Michael. I didn't go into details, but I did tell him that we were in the process of dissolving the partnership; that until the matter was settled in black and white, it would be prudent for me to wait. He seemed to understand my caution, and said that we would revisit it in a month's time. Outside of that, we've hung out a few times and he introduced me around to a few people, but I couldn't really say who they were.

The parties he took me to were fast-paced, and if you weren't working on a project with a motion picture, you weren't worth standing around to talk to. That was actually fine with me, since I like to people watch. There were any number of actors and actresses who were deeply entrenched in the hetero-closet, but within the parties, anything went. One such A-lister was Connor James. It was kind of funny really.

I would have fucked him, but I got that ‘fellow top' vibe from him. And since I bottom for no one but Brian, he was definitely scratched off the list. That's not to say I haven't found a few boy toys while I've been here; it just means that Connor James hasn't been one of them.

Pulling up into the driveway of my temporary home, I still marvel at the property. The main house is massive and the inside so opulent that I was almost afraid to paint in there. I spent the main part of last week jotting down a few ideas since George and Malcolm really didn't have a direction in what they want painted. Having full creative control in someone else's place is a bit daunting, but also freeing. And it's definitely a bigger canvas than I'm used to working with, but they are convinced that having a Justin Taylor original will be worth a lot some day and increase the value of their home away from the East Coast.

I just hope that I don't let them down. After I saw the oversized mural that Virginia Hammond ordered painted of herself, I decided that anything I paint would be far better than THAT! Jesus, talk about a narcissistic woman with her iron gray hair, clutching her pearls. The sour puss expression of her face would have made any hetero man question why he wasn't gay. She kind of reminded me of Brian's mother.

Now that woman can deflate any man's hard on. YIKES!

Pulling into the parking space behind the house and alighting from the car, I can't help but be in awe of the guest house I'm staying in. It's almost as if George had it designed with me in mind, if you can believe it. With a backdrop of palm trees that feel as if reachable, this place screams serenity.

I walk into the house, heading straight to the kitchen. After washing my hands, I check to make sure that the ground beef has thawed out from when I took it out earlier. It has, so I begin my preparations to make me some mozzarella-filled meatballs in the slow cooker, which will give me some much needed time to work. Settling myself on the daybed outside by my borrowed private pool, I know that I have four hours to take care of my businesses before it will be time to fix the pasta to go with it. Once again, I find myself grateful that Emmett and Vic made me buy another crock-pot for while I'm out here.

Checking my emails, there are the usual ones from Daphne and Mom, wanting make sure that I am doing okay. I hurriedly answer both of them, letting them know that I am fine. If I hadn't, I know that they would have been on the next plane out here just to kick my ass. Then there was the bothersome one from Ethan, telling me what a shit I am for telling him after the fact that I was coming out to LA for a time. He wants a promise that I call him the minute I am free.

Of course, there is the usual I miss you, love you, need you, blah, blah, blah mantras that I am so accustomed to receiving from him. Since I'm not exactly sure what to say to him that I hadn't already said when he found out I was here, I leave that email to answer another time. George emailed me to let me know that he had a package shipped to the main house, and should be arriving today sometime. I shrug my shoulders, get up to open the back screen door and resettle myself as quickly as I can on the daybed. Ted emailed me to tell me that another potential client is asking to meet with me to work on their logo design, and is willing to come to LA to meet me.

I email him back, asking him to send me all of the financial research I know he has done already. Ted is just efficient like that, and I can't help but smile to myself that he is. Carl emailed me to advise that they have a lead or two on my case, and that he will let me know what develops after following them. I'm glad, because honestly, I'm still a bit shaken up about the vandalization of my car. It was literally like being bashed all over again, even if it was more of an emotional pain than a physical one.

That was another good thing about being out here though. I have a chance to heal here, without the overbearing scrutiny for every breath out of rhythm or well-meaning suggestions for calming down enough to sleep as much as they think I should. Here I can be anonymous. I'm just the young artist, painting a mural in the Schickle mansion, not the victim of Chris Hobbs or ex-boytoy of Brian Kinney. I'm not Sunshine or Sweetheart, or any of the other sobriquet people attribute to me, whether flattering or not.

Here in the Golden State, I'm simply Justin Cole Taylor, Artist. And although the nightmares haven't completely gone yet, they are lessening. In fact, they have been even since I moved into my own place. I wonder if that means something... But I won't think of it right now.

Melanie emailed to see how I'm doing, and to let me know that Michael is still trying to fight the lawsuit. According to her, he's been to three different attorneys, and none of them will take his case, feeling like he has no chance of winning and that jail time is imminent if he doesn't come up with my money. A small part of me wants to let him off the hook for Deb's sake, but the larger part- the core of me- is screaming for justice. Michael knew better, but thought, like he has so many times, that everything would be forgiven and forgotten when he was caught. Well not this time!

Because of him, I had to humble myself to beg for money to attend school from Craig Taylor. And that, in and of itself in my book, is unforgivable! I also found out what he said in the emergency room, while everyone was waiting for me to wake up and that had Daphne kicking his ass. Good! I always knew that Michael hated me, but to wish me dead at the hands of a maniac- TWO MANIACS- was just...

I don't even have the words for someone so hateful.

The last email is from Brian, letting me know that the Carnivale posters have been approved by the GLC and are going up, even as he's sending the email. I'm glad of it. They had already pushed back the date for the event twice already, because of funding and scheduling conflicts with the City. So if they hadn't signed off on the poster, they would have been delayed further in order for me redo the poster. Even though it was a semi-rush job, and a matter of clearing up an outstanding account before I came out here, I still wanted to do the overall theme of the evening justice.

That place gave me my start, and the courage to show my work. I couldn't do a mediocre job in return. My earlier doodles from Rage are also being silently auctioned off. I'm kind of curious to see how much they will go for, even if I won't see a penny of it. I'm just happy that my work will be out there.

Just as I close out of my email and open up the illustration program I'm using to work on the mural, the doorbell to the main house rings. Getting up again, I stretch a little as I prepare to make the surprisingly long trek to the front door. I'm still in awe that although the house is grand, it still has a homey feel to it. The open floor plan takes me through the kitchen, massive dining room, and living room leading to one of four corridors that make up the foyer. There's furniture all throughout that was designed for luxury, as well as comfort.

I can't help thinking to myself that George and Malcolm must have redesigned the space to reflect their styles, as opposed to Virginia's. The words staid and stuffy comes to mind, as well as the names Joan Crawford and Joan Kinney when I think of her. Definitely not comforting thoughts! Finally reaching the door, I yank it open expecting to see a UPS or FedEx man, but instead I see...

"Brian...??"

Brian

I couldn't stay away any longer. Call me selfish if you must, since I know he needs time and space. Just because what I said to Mel about staying with Lindsay for Gus' sake was the truth, it doesn't mean that my words didn't hurt Justin. That wasn't my intention. And although I know he knows that, it doesn't change the facts; I know that.

After we all arrived in Justin's hospital room again that night, I noticed his aloofness almost immediately. Sure, he was ever so cordial and polite as always, but the warmth from him was missing. Even sitting next to him, resuming my normal seat by his side, I couldn't feel it. Afterward, anytime we saw each other it was about business. The Carnivale posters he did were amazing, but then I wouldn't have expected any less.

A minor tweak here, an addition to the dark and dangerous concept there, and it was completed. The following day he left for Los Angeles.

Emmett told me that George, and his partner Malcolm, were throwing a little dinner party for Justin's send off. Even though it was agreed that he would be back to Pittsburgh once or twice a month, he would be staying on the West Coast for awhile. So it was a small scale variation on a Bon Voyage party. Emmett and Ted thought that I should have made an appearance, but I blew them off. The truth: I couldn't take not being spoken to with more than a passing interest.

Justin's continued rejection hurt, but of course, they don't know that. And I wasn't about to tell them. In fact, they think that Justin and I settled our differences, which in reality couldn't be further from the truth. The silence between him and I was even more deafening than it was the night before the Rage party when he'd come back home from seeing Ethan. He didn't have to say anything; I already knew.

I remember lying there in the dark with only the light of the moon filtering through the windows, watching him undress, his teary, confused eyes meeting mine head on. The quietness surrounding us had nothing to do with the lack of physical noise; it was all emotional. No more silent screaming within our heads. No more conversations from our lips and limbs. It was just the still quiet in air, fraught with emotional turmoil, radiating from the both of us.

He crawled into bed beside me, his back against my chest. I could feel every breath he took, every silent sigh he released, even as I covered him with the duvet that matched his eyes and moved closer to him, seeking his warmth. My relief was palpable at him being there, but I knew it would be short-lived. While he was out, I had made the decision to push Justin off the cliff. The strange thing- as I think about it now- is that I think he knew, without me saying a word or my actions speaking for me.

Yes, Justin knew and was preparing himself for it, even as he probably hoped I wouldn't do it; silently prayed that I would prove him wrong in that moment when it really counted.   

I can still see that look of resignation the night of that cursed party. I saw it again as he told us to leave his hospital room, under the guise of fatigue. I watched helplessly as he, once again, withdrew himself from me. I don't generally believe in regret. It's normally a useless emotion in my world.

But I really do regret pouring salt in Justin's self-inflicted open wound. Whatever progress we had made up until that point was negated by my harsh words directed towards Mel, a woman who is still being serially cheated on. And all for the sake of my son. But in all my anger at the situation Mel is allowing to suppress her happiness, I caused harm to the man I had supposedly forgiven; a man that I still want beyond all rhyme and reason, and who is my equal in every way that matters to me. How the fuck am I supposed to fix it if he won't fucking talk to me?!

Rather than dwell on all of it, I threw myself into work and it's really paying off. In the first week after Justin's departure, we acquired four of the seven clients we went after. The other three are still reviewing the campaign with their respective Boards of Directors, and that's fine. I did all of the pitches personally, since I just needed to get out of town for a bit. I felt too cold, too lonely, too... something!

But it caused such a restlessness in me, that it was just better for me not to be around anyone who knew me. I held fast to my motto of work hard and play harder in every major city I visited. The tried and true methods of pain management were my friends, and the only things I could trust at those moments. I needed to feel empty, to feel numb, because feeling anything else just fucking hurt too much. Between Michael and Lindsay's betrayal, and then Justin's departure, it was...

Well let's just say that it wasn't fucking fun. By the time I got back to the office, I was exhausted but had resolved to resume my life- well as much of my pre-Justin existence- as I could. Michael and Lindsay kept calling, and showing up at Kinnetik. It was hard to pretend I didn't know what they had done, but that was for the best. At least, until the babies were born.

I still have no idea what the hell I'm going to do, but adoption isn't even an option. I think they both knew that, which is what makes this even harder to deal with. Growing up the way I did, doesn't exactly inspire trust. The only reason Gus is even here in this world is because I thought I could trust Lindsay and Mel to raise him with love and honor. Finding out that the woman I used to look upon as my best girl-friend is a Mistress of Manipulation hurts more than I can ever say, and that just pisses me off!

Lindsay was the first woman after Deb that I ever trusted. So imagine my shock when I found out that instead of being able to confide in the woman I thought I knew, I'm trusting her lesbian lover instead. Mel and I may have our differences, but I know she loves Gus, even if she was jealous of him during the first few months of his life. From what Justin told me, that was normal as the secondary parent. I always found it funny that he knew more about parenting, and the issues that go on between couples, than I did.

But then again, he's a fucking genius and isn't afraid to quote a public service announcement or hundreds of them if it means I have all the information I need to navigate this fatherhood fiasco. Because of him, I can say that I am definitely a better father than I ever thought I would be. Now I just have to figure out how to keep that upward mobility going so that Gus, and the other child or children, don't feel the neglect I grew up feeling. As for Michael and Lindsay, I'll keep avoiding them as much as I can until I figure it all out. Sometimes the best offense when dealing with those two is to say nothing, while thinking of and planning for every possible scenario.

It's when I allow them to goad me, and put me on the defensive that all the problems within my life happen. I mean, look at what Justin and I are going through now. If that isn't proof positive of how dangerous those two can be for my psyche, then I don't know what is.   

Another surprise came for me this week when I received a call from George Schickle. He said he was looking to change the direction his company was being advertised and had heard from Emmett that I was the man to call. I couldn't dispute him there, especially since Schickle's Pickles was currently being represented by VanGuard Advertising Agency. So with Ted and Cynthia in tow, we headed out to the enormous estate in Sewickley. I couldn't help but be impressed with the area, noting to myself that Justin would feel right at home since he'd grown up in elite society.

As for me, I couldn't help but mentally laugh that a kid born and bred on the wrong side of the tracks was about to have a meeting with a man in the top tier of the WASP nest. Meeting George Schickle, and his partner Malcolm, was a pleasant surprise. I could immediately see why Emmett had spoken so highly of him. Even though they had buckets of money, they weren't pretentious as so many are, including Lindsay's parents. It was obvious that George Schickle had far more wealth, and yet he was as down-to-earth and with a wicked sense of humor, as Emmett and Justin.

Getting down to business, he advised that he wanted a modern campaign while honoring the traditions which have built his empire for over sixty years. By the time the meeting was finished, I had sold him on a ‘Dancing Pickle' idea, which paid homage to the dance crazes of the times while adding enough heat and innuendo to the pickles to make it sexy. Children would love the cartoonish feel, while young adults would find the idea of breakdancing and tangoing pickles, suggestive. The older adults would have a bit of a nostalgic feeling, remembering the first time they tasted a Schickle's Pickle, be it while watching a baseball game, attending a drive-in movie, or eating a burger at some family function, or a sock-hop from yesteryear. While we were hashing out more ideas and primary costs for the campaign, he also asked to have a logo overhaul.

As we were conversing, I realized that there was only one artist I knew who could pull this off. Yes, I have a whole staff of talented artists at Kinnetik, but I really wanted something special for George Schickle. Call me crazy, but what he was doing for Justin was... Well there weren't enough words in the language to describe his benevolence towards Sunshine. So to me, it made perfect sense that Justin would work with me on this campaign.

It was then that I told Ted to email Justin, telling him that a new client is interested in a logo, and that said client would be willing to fly out to meet him. George realizing who Ted and I were speaking of, asked why I didn't just call Justin and ask then. Although I didn't tell him everything, I told the older gentleman that Justin and I weren't on speaking terms at the moment. I don't know how much George knew of the situation beyond my vague answer, but the next thing I know, I'm sitting on his private jet and heading to LA with only my briefcase, and the number of his tailor. When I get back, Emmett and I will definitely have to talk about the boundaries of friendship.

But for now... Justin won't be able to avoid me.   

There was a car waiting for me at the airport when I arrived. I was taken to George's tailor, who already had several suits, leisure suits, and casual wear ready for me to try and decide on. After making my selections and adding a few pairs of jeans, a pack of t-shirts and a few pairs of Prada boots to the pile, I was ready to pay for my purchases.

"No need, Monsieur Kinney. Monsieur George says this is his treat, since he insisted you come out right away. We're packing your things in garment bags as we speak."

"But..."

"Ah, no buts, Monsieur. Monsieur Schickle is a very good client, and you must be a special guest to him for him to do this for you. Don't- how do you Americans say?- look gifted horse in the mouth, yes?" Mr. Schickle's tailor, Alphonse, tells me.

"That's ‘gift', Alphonse. ‘Don't look a gift horse in the mouth' is the correct saying." I couldn't help but snicker. Instead of being offended, he smiled.

"Ah...that means I'm getting better! You should have heard me butchering the Americanisms before George began teaching me. Definitely a... a...  trial, as Mr. Malcolm says." He chuckled, and I couldn't help but do so in return.

Whatever nervousness I felt on the way to sunny California, dissipated for just those few moments with the frenchman. Thankfully, he wasn't horribly pretentious as the last one I had a run-in with. Perhaps I should have let Lindsay marry Gui after all. We sure wouldn't be going through the bullshit we are now, if I had. I left Alphonse with a tip worthy of his services, for which he thanked me for and wished me well on my continuing journey.

He handed me his card and told me that if I needed anything, he and his partner, Gene, would be available day or night to dress me. Of course, that could be taken several ways, until his partner joined him at the counter. The taller brunet, Gene, ran his hands through Alphonse's short red-blond curls, as the shorter man leaned against him. I was seeing in action what I had done with Justin so many times before, and how it must have looked to others when we thought no one was watching. It was intimate, making me feel like a complete voyeur.

So simple a gesture, but with a wealth of words being said through the action. I watched as Alphonse turned in his lover's arms, and the sparkling smile he graced Gene with; watched as Gene became mesmerized and enchanted by the man in his arms, until an answering smile appeared on his own lips. I want that back was all I could think, before finally getting into the car to go find Sunshine. 

When we pulled up in front of the Schickle Estate, I think I must have drooled a bit. The Mediterranean-style mansion was definitely a vision straight out of Architectural Digest. Saying it was just plain grand was an understatement. The white building stood tall and pristine, much like the men who owned it, themselves. I couldn't help but feel a measure of peace here.

The only thing that would make this feeling complete was if Justin and I could get our shit together.

Taking a deep breath, I ring the doorbell, then turn my back to mentally prepare myself in case he was less than welcoming once the shock wore off. No matter how hard it has been to admit to myself, life has been rather empty without the whirling dervish known as Justin Taylor, gracing it everyday. He added to my life in a way I hadn't expected or accepted, until he was gone from it. I can only hope he will be willing to do so again. When heard the door began to unlock, I took one more fortifying breath before turning around to meet the blue eyes I've missed, dead on.

No sense hiding anymore.

"Brian??" The blue eyes regarded me, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Shock and elation, mixed with a hint of trepidation blinked back at me.

"Hello, Sunshine."

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I'll get to that in a minute, but first things first..." I grab ahold of him, before he had a moment to even step back to let me into the building. Pulling him to me, I let my lips ghost over his at first, before claiming them as my own.

God, how I have missed his taste; missed the little hitch in his breathing whenever our tongues meet for the first time after being apart for any length of time. I've missed his smile and his voice; the way his arms welcome me as I settle into them. I missed his fingers in my hair, and the sound of the low growl in his throat when roused and aroused. It's that little sound I'm listening for now, as I continue to kiss him. It lets me know that he is fully engaged in the exchange.

When it finally comes, I release him, looking down into his face, pleased to see the dazed and flushed look on his countenance. My golden boy- my Sunshine- is one beautiful man.

"What are you doing here, Brian?" he asks, still a little breathless. Good!

"Business, but also... I- I missed you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

His smile shines brighter than the waning daylight. "Then I guess it would be okay for me to let you in. I actually thought you were the FedEx man. George said to expect a package."

"I know. I'm what you were waiting on." I laugh at the look of surprise on his face. "Let's face it, Sunshine. George Schickle is one sly old fox."

He smiled back at me. "You really don't know the half of it."

We move steadily into the house, as I take in the decor surrounding me. From the opulence of the foyer, I was expecting the interior to look like a museum with expensive or priceless artifacts. I was pleasantly surprised to find it warm and homey, luxurious, but without all the pretensions I would imagine most of the homes in Hollywood would have. It looks lived in, not like a showroom. Justin noticed my awe, and began to tell me that George and Malcolm had the entire interior redone once Virginia Hammond died.

When he told me of the mural, I couldn't help the shudder that went through me. I remember seeing pictures of her in the society pages of the numerous newspapers I tend to read. She always looked so joyless, as if she was always smelling bad meat. She reminded me a lot of my mother. Justin laughed again at my involuntary shudder, and when he asked why, I told him.

"Think of both the depiction of Joan Crawford in ‘Mommy Dearest' and Joan Kinney clutching pearls, with her numerous disapproving looks. Personally I think Virginia had your mom beat in the evil bitch department. No wonder George was happy when she finally kicked the bucket." Justin chuckled.

"So, how did he get the house back?"

"They never divorced. She was determined to take him for everything he owned, even before they married and joined empires. Every time he offered her a settlement, she sent her attorneys back to the table with demands for more. Well now everything she was trying to withhold from George, he ended up with in the first place. Since she died unexpectedly, she never updated her will, figuring she had time."

"Time waits for no man, or woman, for that matter."

"A lesson Virginia and her family learned the hard way. Her son and daughter from her previous marriage tried to contest the will and lost. Needless to say that Hammond and Francesca weren't happy with the million dollar bequeathment for each of them. George had his lawyers pay it out, and sent them on their way. He advised them to invest it wisely, because that was all they were going to get from him. After that, he ended up having to get restraining orders on them and their spouses since they were showing up wherever George and Malcolm were, making scenes, and threatening them. When he finally had them arrested for stalking and continual harassment, they told the judge what their mother had promised them in the event of her death, and were told that it wasn't hers to promise as long as George still lived. They aren't allowed within fifty feet of him, his residences, or his businesses, but George has a PI constantly looking after them, and the security firm he uses checks everything, including what they have done with the million they each received. He's determined that they aren't going to stop his life, or catch him unawares."

I nod as we entered the backyard from inside the massive kitchen area at the back of the mansion. It's an absolute private oasis with the swimming pool, separating the guest house from the main one. The contemporary structure looks as if it's always been here, but Justin tells me that George and Malcolm just built it a year ago when they remodeled the interior of the mansion. It looks almost as if they had Justin in mind when they designed it. The small house has huge windows, which would let in tons of sunlight, especially during the middle of the day.

Again, that sense of peace assaults my senses. But even more than that, I can tell Justin has found a measure of it. Taking a good look at him, I can tell his shoulders look a bit more relaxed than they have been in the last five months. He's still guarded and wary, but I think that has more to do with me being here than anything else. I guess I would feel less guarded too, if I didn't have to worry about other people's motivations all the time.

"So, how long are you staying?" Justin asks me.

"Ready to have me gone already?" That tenseness is back, and I don't like it. "Hey, stop, Justin. I was only joking with you." I watch as he releases the breath that I know he didn't realize he held for as long as it took me to reassure him. This is what we've been reduced to again. I shake my head at the thought.

"What?"

"What, what, Justin?"

"What was that look for?"

"What look are you talking about?" Fuck! This is... awkward, which is something I never thought Justin and I would ever be around each other.

"It doesn't matter. How long are you in town for again?"

"Until it's time to go back for the Carnivale."

"Okay."

"You are still attending, right?"

"I plan to, unless something else comes up."

That causes my ears to perk up. "Like what?"

I can see him hesitating to answer me, before he does. "Nothing really. I've just been spending some time with Brett. He lives next door."

Alright now... "Who the fuck is Brett?" I know I sound... Well I.... Okay so yeah, I'm having issues with my natural possessive streak right now. There, I've admitted it to myself, but he doesn't need to know that. "A friend of yours?" I ask to take the sting out of the implication that I could, in fact, be a little jealous of whomever this fucker is.

"Yeah, Brett is a friend. Well as much of a friend as you can have in this town. Actually, you've met him before."

I pause to think back if I've met any Brett while out with Justin, before things went to shit between us. The only one I remember is: "Brett Keller?"

"Yeah."

"And he lives next door?"

"That's what I just said."

"So why would you be making plans with him?"

Justin shrugs his shoulders, as if that should provide me all the answer I need. And maybe it does for him, but it fucking doesn't for me! I'm still standing here with my newly-acquired garment bag in one hand and my briefcase in the other, sorely tempted to turn around and walk back through the house to get out of here. This fucking tension between Justin and I feels like there is a ton of cinder blocks weighing me down. But I can't seem to will my feet to move in the opposite direction of where Justin is, especially since whatever is going through his mind is causing him to chew his bottom lip.

The ping from his laptop interrupts the uncomfortable silence between us, and I'm grateful for it. If there is one thing Justin and I don't need right now, it is to get into another argument- or in our current state, a non-argument over inconsequential people. Although this is a business trip, this is also about me and Justin. I don't want to waste a second of it over hurt feelings, and misplaced accusations. I think we've already had enough of that.

"Ted emailed me the specs of my new client."

"That's good, since that's why I'm here. You've been requested." I'm grateful for some common ground right now, and if nothing else, Justin and I know how to separate business from all things bedroom-related.

"Requested?" he asks, looking up from the screen briefly.

"Yes. Do you think I can put my bag down somewhere, and then I can fill you in on the main details of this campaign?"

His eyes widen, as if just realizing that he's been less than hospitable. "Sorry, Bri. I was a bit... preoccupied."

"Jeez, I hadn't noticed."

He moved into the guest house before me, and I have to admit it's even more impressive than what I've glimpsed through the open blinds. The floorplan is completely open with floor to ceiling views of the vistas on either side, and a full view of the pool and hot tub in the front. The tour is short, but even the bathroom layout catches my eye. Everything from the waist up is all glass while the bottom half of the walls are made of Italian White Carrara marble- one of the most expensive types per tile. It's pure pleasure to look at with its chrome finishes, and yet it still feels inviting.

I swear George and Malcolm are decorating masters. No matter how decadent the residence and the pool house are, they still feel as if the buildings themselves are welcoming you home.  

We found our way back into the kitchen, where he busies himself checking the slow cooker. I hear the mutter under his breath followed by an expletive I haven't heard from between his lips in a long time. It's been forever since I've heard him swear in any other language than English. The first time I heard it, I was amazed to know that he knew a foreign language at all. The second reason is that I was shocked I still remembered Greek.

"Problem?" I ask, trying to figure out exactly what has him rolling his eyes at the moment.  

"Uh... I hadn't exactly planned on company, and this definitely won't be done until after seven," he answers as if the statement should explain everything. Truthfully, it does, since not everyone is as fastidious about their eating habits.

"I'll tell you what... why don't we just get down to business first, and then we'll figure out what to do about food afterwards?"

I can see the wheels in his mind turning, then finally agreeing that it's a viable solution. "Okay. So tell me what George wants?"

He heads back outside, and I follow him to the daybed. He clears off a small area on the coffee table he's been using to work from his laptop, so that I can spread out the notes from my earlier meeting with George. I hand him the specifics with the targeted demographics, and explain to him my idea for marketing so that it reaches all age groups at the same time, without blowing the budget. He listens to me intently, nodding where appropriate, completely engaged in what I'm saying. I can't help but hope that he'll be just as attentive later tonight, while we're clearing the air.

Justin has never had a problem separating the business from the personal, which again leads me to being pissed with myself for not telling him why I cancelled Vermont in the first place. He would have understood; I know that. It was my own damnable fucking pride that put us here. Hell, I could have even taken him with me, if I had just...

"So basically, you want to use the pickles in different situations. That's good, but it would be a bit morbid to have a pickle eating another pickle, even if it is animated."

I laugh at the imagery his words conjured. "So how would you do it?"

He shifts his laptop into position where I can't see it. I have to admit that I love watching him work. The way the tip of his tongue molests the corner of his mouth, brings to mind all the other things that talented appendage is able to do to me. The way his eyes zero in, centering to the exclusion of everything going on around him, reminds me of the way he looks at me, whether we're speaking or fucking. Each sweep of his eyes across my body feels like he actually touches me; in lust, in anger, in happiness, or in despair.

Whatever emotion he's feeling at any given moment can be found there, and felt deeply within the assessed. It's what makes Justin an amazing artist, untried and untutored though he may be. It's why I can't give up on him, on this; on us. Being bereft of his focus when I've finally become accustomed to it, has made me lonely in a world where I am King. A world where no one really sees me, other than him.

After a few moments, he turns his computer towards me. The work is based simply off of the notes from the meeting, and the brief conversation we had, but I'm amazed that it is almost entirely complete. Justin managed to take the idea and give it action, even though they are in still shots. Each picture has a personality. As I sit there flipping through the slides he's placed in the PowerPoint program, I marvel at how ingenious this idea really is.

It's one thing to have it in your head, but another to see it coming to fruition. It's reminding me of why I fell in love with the advertising business in the first place. And why I have fallen in love with the artist, who just gets me without a plethora of words. I bite my lip to keep from saying the lebianic sentiment aloud, when there are so many things still unsettled between the two of us. Then breathe a sigh of relief when he again focuses on the campaign, and not picking the other thoughts out of my head instead.

"Of course, there are some things that need to be added, like the animation and phasing concepts to seamlessly change from the pickle to the person eating the pickle, but I think this is a good start for now."

"A variation on the adage, 'You are what you eat.' Hmm, not bad," I say, as I continue to study the slides, but I can feel the beam from the satisfied smile gracing his lips. "Not bad at all, Sunshine."

"Well, I aim to please, Mr. Kinney," he snarks playfully, and I find myself sticking my tongue out at him. "Oh, very mature."

"Well I aim to please, Mr. Taylor."

He looks at me, the twinkle still in his eyes. I realize that I've missed this mischievous side of his personality most of all. This side of him always knew how to make me laugh, when I thought everything else around me was going to shit. Or how he would take my phrases and turn them in such a way, where I had to laugh, if they were applied to me. Justin Taylor taught me- and continues to teach me- when not to take myself so seriously that I lose sight of what's really important in my life.

He's the reason I can be such a good dad to Gus, when I spend time with my little mini-me. The reason that after he and I have had one of our numerous arguments, I can forgive myself for saying something cruel, even if it had a measure of truth to it. He's been my conscience more times than I care to remember. But more importantly, he's also been my solace during those times when my life just feels a little bit too much. We're interrupted by the tell-tale grumble of his stomach.

He looks a little embarrassed when he mumbles, "Sorry."

I shake my head at him. "Don't be. I know the routine by now, Justin. When was the last time you've eaten anyway?"

"I think my stomach is still on Pitts time. It seems like I'm hungry as hell every few hours."

"Uh-huh. Don't blame it on you leaving Pittsburgh, three weeks ago," I snicker.

"Hey, I'm a growing boy. What do you expect?"

I look at him closely, noting, not for the first time, that while he is still slender, he's filling out in all the right places. His arms seem more muscular, and oddly enough, he's grown a few inches in the last few months. It's the only reminder I have that he's still under twenty-one most of the time, even though his fake ID says that he should be about sixty now. I silently laugh at that thought, remembering how he used it a few years ago to gain entry to my playground- to our playground. I can still see the confetti raining over his blond head and naked torso, seeming to cling onto him as if never wanting to fall off.

It's how I feel about him now.

I look at my watch, knowing that he'll still be ready to eat again in a few hours since it's only about four- thirty now on the west coast. "So know any good Thai places around here?"

"Definitely, but you might want to change your clothes first. You look like a tourist right now."

"Well Duh, I am one."

"Well since I'm not dressing up, you have to dress down, Mr. Kinney."

I contemplate what he's telling me, and decide he's right. Besides it might be better if we're in public, when we clear up some misconceptions between us. Suddenly I'm even more glad that George Schickle didn't give me a chance to say no to coming out here. I head inside, and pull out a pair of jeans that I know will hug my ass in all the right places, one of my sleeveless tees and a black silk shirt off of one of the leisure suits I've just gotten from Alphonse. Looking at myself quickly in the full-length mirror on the wall, I call it good.

But I know I've made the right decision when I step back onto the patio of the guest house, and see the look of lust immediately flair into Justin's eyes when he looks up from his computer.

"See something you like?" I ask, already knowing his answer, but he clears his throat and feigns nonchalance.

"You look great."

"Well, according to you, I always do."

He raises an eyebrow at me, but I can see the little smirk turn up the corner of his mouth. Grabbing his keys and cell phone, he says, "Let's go."

I follow his enticing ass, noticing the slight twist in it he has which just comes naturally with the way he walks. That was another thing about Justin that I appreciated. No matter how a man's walk stereotypes and separates a gay man from a straight one, Justin doesn't give a shit or buy into the bullshit. He's just who he is without artifice, take him or leave him. He doesn't let what others think of him and his decisions negate who he is anymore, the way it did when faced with Michael's harsh criticisms, or Lindsay's passive-aggressive suggestions.

He's confident now, and it shows. He always has been, even if he'd forgotten for a little while.

We arrived at Thai restaurant in Santa Monica, about a half hour to forty minutes later. How the fuck has it happened that he's being greeted by name already, and he's only been here for three fucking weeks? Justin doesn't bat an eyelash, and is automatically deferred to for choice seating in the place. He picks the table closest to the kitchen that looks out over the water. It's still public, but it's also private enough away from the other patrons so that we can speak freely, without being interrupted or overheard.

The waiter comes back, and I can tell he's interested in both Justin and myself. When he lingers, I help him out. "Not interested."

"I just wanted to wait for Mr. Taylor's order," he tries to explain, stammering over his words.

Justin just looks at me over his menu with something akin to shock, pride, and trepidation all mixed together. "I know exactly what you were doing, and when we're ready, we'll signal for you," I say smoothly. Reluctantly he moves off to tend to other patrons in his area, who were apparently signaling for the check. I still feel Justin's eyes staring at me, while I try to refocus my attention on my menu selections. "What?"

"What, what, Brian?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Hmm let's see... you almost went caveman on that poor waiter."

"I did not. I was just letting him know that if he got any more transparent, he would be mistaken for scotch tape. I did him a favor."

"Really? How is that?" He arches his eyebrow at me.

"I saved him the embarrassment of being turned down by you."

"How do you know I would have? Turned him down, I mean."

I could tell him that he's already sitting with the only man worth fucking in this place. Justin wouldn't have disputed that, but outside of getting a blow job, in his mind, he wouldn't have been fucking the waiter's face. So after steeling my resolve, I decide to give Justin a dose of truthful reality. "Because you want the shit that's between us resolved, even more than I do."

He seems to think about that for a minute, before resigning himself to his own truth. "Yeah, I do."

"So that means right now, we don't have time to play well with others. Now later..."

"Will there even be a later?"

"That's what we're here to figure out, Sunshine."

Justin signals the waiter, who comes back as if his asshole is on fire. And perhaps it is, metaphorically speaking. Both Justin and I look hot, but then again, we always do. He orders for both of us, knowing exactly what I like. After the waiter leaves eager to do our bidding so that he has reason to come back to our table, we both settle in to discuss what has brought us to this desolate place in- dare I say it- our relationship. 

Chapter 17: Out Of Touch

Lyrics

Shake it up is all that we know/ Using the bodies up as we go/ Waking up to fantasy/ The shades all around aren't the colors we used to see/ Broken ice still melts in the sun/ And times that are broken can often be one again/ We're soul alone/ And soul really matters to me/ Take a look around/ You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around/ You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around/ Reaching out for something to hold/ Looking for a love where the climate is cold/ Manic moves and drowsy dreams/ Or living in the middle between the two extremes/ Smoking guns hot to the touch/ Would cool down if we didn't use them so much/ We're soul alone/ And soul really matters to me/ Too much/ You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around

You're out of touch/ I'm out of time/ But I'm out of my head when you're not around

Songwriters: HALL, DARYL / OATES, JOHN

Out Of Touch lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

Meanwhile in Pittsburgh...

George's POV

Noticing the email link on my phone lit up, I go into my office and sit down at my desk. Although I like the fact that I can get mail on my phone- still a revelation considering my age- I find typing on it to be a major pain in the ass. Malcolm often laughs at me because I insist on answering an email from a desktop or my laptop, instead of my inconsiderate mobile phone with the tiny buttons. In case it needs to be said, I absolutely abhor autocorrect, but consider it a necessary evil when my rather large fingertips glide over the wrong letter. Fuck all of that, just give me a keyboard! But I digress...

Opening the email it reads:

George,

I don't know how you figured it out, or who told you. But thank you for shipping this particular package to me. It's time he and I cleared the air.

All my love and respect,

Justin

I reread it several times, before noticing that Malcolm has come into the room. I know how much he and I lived through to get to where we are now. Virginia, and some of our so-called friends, made it especially hard for us to be together. He and I fought through all the viciousness of rumors and sly innuendo. It helped that I was well-off financially and that he was as well.

But it still didn't stop the gold-digging accusations, by any means. People tend to forget that just because Malcolm prefers to do the gardening personally in our area, that he owns brand name floral shops, both domestic and abroad. It just so happens that he loves to play in the dirt, like any other five year old boy. But that's my man! He's a lot like Emmett, in that he doesn't give a shit what people think, feel, or say about him but he's got a generous heart that's been bruised, like Brian and Justin's. If I can aid in their road to together forever, I will do whatever is in my power to do just that.

Putting Brian on the jet was just the first step. Alphonse really likes Brian, and thinks that what I'm doing is a real class act. He still tends to mix up the American terms, but either way, I'm glad he believes that I am. I don't do this for praise, applause or gratitude, but because I believe that everyone should live the life they want and to have the love they deserve. From what Emmett told me about Brian and Justin's tumultuous past, I can't think of two men more deserving.

Not only that, but I'm determined that no one except those who must know- like Ted and Cynthia- are aware that they are together for this week. As for the rest of their friends and family, it's good to keep them guessing. I know the Petersons, and that Lindsay chit. In a lot of ways she reminds me of Virginia; her avarice is so damn strong. So, needless to say it is giving me a great deal of pleasure to thwart her. Nancy has always rubbed me the wrong way, and as she was Virginia's best gal pal, we all know she's a bitch. The proverbial apple didn't fall far from the tree with the Peterson girls, that's for sure. However, I'm not so sure that Lindsay hasn't surpassed her mother and sister in the greed department.

They at least have morals, no matter how questionable they are. But from what I've heard thus far about Lindsay Peterson, she doesn't. Anyway, Brian and Justin definitely need the time alone to work out their issues so that they can withstand whatever other bull is coming at them whenever they resurface.

"Did the package arrive safely, Georgie?"

"Yeah, it did. I was just reading Justin's email to let me know."

"Think they will be able to work it out?"

"I don't know, Malc. I can only hope they will."

"Well if you're pulling for them, then that's all they need, Babe," he says, finishing it with a gentle kiss.

I can't help, but be thankful that the Hide-and-Go-Seek era of our relationship is officially a thing of the past. I couldn't imagine having to relive that time again, but I would if it meant that I get to keep Malcolm to spend the rest of my days with. He's the very best thing that's ever happened to me.

Daphne:

I'm sitting here with Phoebe, going over the notes for my anatomy and physiology class when Ethan rushes in. I pretend I don't see him, because the last thing I want to do is talk to the fool. Every since Justin left three weeks ago, he's been showing up wherever the hell I am every fucking time I turn around. One would think with his best friend sitting right next to me he would pay attention to her and stop zeroing in on me, looking for tidbits as to why Justin isn't responding to his emails. Part of me would feel sorry for him, if I actually liked the bastard.

Justin told me what Ethan said and his accusations toward him prior to his leaving. I wished he would have told Ethan flat out that it was over between them before he left, but Justin is determined not to send the idiot into a tailspin before his competition. Ethan stands to gain a contract with the Harrisburg Philharmonic if he wins the Heifetz Competition, which would remove him from Justin's orbit permanently. That hope and promise is the only thing keeping me semi-civil to the asshole. Phoebe has her own competition to prepare for, but is helping me study in Justin's stead.

She says that it gives her fingers a rest, and I imagine it does. Must be nice to only have to bend your fingers around a coffee cup, instead of keeping them crooked to play a piano for at least three hours a day. And that's what she calls a slack day! I shake my head at the thought, just as pretentious pussyboy arrives at our table.

"Daphne, may I have a word?"

"You just did... six of them, to be exact. Do I look like Vanna to you? This isn't Wheel of Fortune," I respond, already annoyed at the sound of his voice.

"Look, it's important."

"So is me studying to ace my exam. Unlike you, I have a test every week so I can't afford to slack off, or in your case, stalk people."

"You mean to tell me you can't take five minutes to talk to me?!"

"I would, but I really don't want to."

"Ethan..." Phoebe begins, but he cuts her off.

"Not now, Phebes. Daphne, I don't appreciate your tone, or your total disregard for my feelings."

"Boo-fucking-hoo, like I really give a shit what you appreciate. I don't appreciate you tracking me down every time you want information that I can't give you. In case you don't know what state we're in, we are in Pennsylvania, NOT California. If I remember my geography correctly, California and Pennsylvania are about three-thousand miles apart. Justin doesn't have a tracking device in his ass, or fingers. If he isn't emailing you back, he's probably doing what he was sent out there to do, which is WORK. He has a job, which is more than I can say for you."

"Why are you being such a bitch?"

"Better a bitch, who is about to bite you, than the pussy who's hissing and spitting because he isn't getting his way again. Now personally, I'm tired of this conversation Ethan, and on MY campus, no less. Go practice or pray or play with yourself- I don't care which- but just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Turning to Phoebe, he begins to plead. "Please Phebes, talk to her. Tell her that I'm worried about Justin. I need to speak with him. Ever since he moved out, things... Well they haven't been the same."

"Perhaps they would be if you spent more time practicing and less time yapping, complaining about Justin not being at your beck and call," I can't help saying. He really is plucking my LAST nerve! I see my favorite security guard, who just happens to have a major crush on me. And if I had the time, I would certainly take him up on that crush. But there's no harm in flirting to get what I want, now is there? "Derek, hi! What brings you down here?"

"Just finally on break since Charlie came in. How are things with you? Studying for another AP test, I gather."

I twirl my hair, suddenly thankful I left it loose today. "Yep, you got it. But I'm being a bit bothered by a certain visitor to the campus... again... Who is looking for Justin... AGAIN. But even though he knows Justin's in L.A., he refuses to let me be long enough so that Phebes can drill me on some more of these terms."

Ethan has finally gotten the message. "Fine, Daphne! I will speak to you later, and make NO mistake we WILL speak later!"

"Don't count on it, Doofus," I say, as he beats a hasty retreat out of the cafeteria doors. "Thanks, Derek. I almost hope Justin stays gone until after Ethan wins that damn competition."

"Me too, but I'm surprised at you, Phoebe. Why aren't you defending him as you're usually wont to do?" Derek asks her.

She looks a bit uncertain at the question, and something else that I can't quite grasp. "I just... I don't agree with what he's doing, is all. Sometimes Ethan has a tendency to act like a spoiled child, and only cares about his wants, needs, and wishes. Right now, I'm not in the mood to placate, or defend him."

There's definitely something she's leaving unsaid, but I choose to ignore it for now. It's enough that she's not offering any ready-made excuses for the cretin. "I knew I would rub off on you on you one of these days, Phebes. Well we better get back to studying. Thank you for running interference, Derek."

"I didn't do much, but you're welcome, Daphne. Anytime." As he moves off, I turn to Phoebe, "Something you want to tell me?"

"What do you mean?"

I study her a bit more. "I know that there is more to this whole non-defense of Ethan than you're letting on, but in the interests of time and your sacrifice to help me out, I'm going to let it go for now." I watch as she exhales a gusty sigh of relief.

Yep, there is definitely something rotten with Ethan, and I have a funky suspicion that Phoebe knows exactly what it is. But first, I have to get through the test on the Endocrine System. Then Phoebe and I are going to have a nice long chat over some Chunky Monkey ice cream, while she unburdens her soul and explains her sudden aversion to defending all things Ethan Gold.

Cynthia

Oh my GOD, they are here AGAIN!! How many fucking ways can I say that Brian is not in his office and is on a business trip, before the damn Deaf and Dumb Twins get the message?!

"Well, where is he? This is an emergency!" Whiny Twin Wonder has activated his special power of ear-piercing proportions. I'm glad the windows are shatterproof.

"Cynthia, this is no time to be secretive," Now WASPY Twin has added her two cents.

For my part, I'm about to activate my own punch a fucker and slap a bitch power, but I am saved by the timely intervention of Ted. "Lindsay, Michael, what are you both doing here?"

"We came to speak to Brian, but this bi..."

"What Michael means is that we really need to speak with Brian, and Cynthia won't let us into his office to see him."

"I see. Well there is a very good reason for that. It's because he isn't here. He's on a business trip, and will not be back until the GLC Carnivale," Ted says, as if he's talking to people who are hard of hearing. And based on their responses, perhaps they are.

"Well, where is he?" Lindsay asks.

"We need to speak to him," Michael insists. "We've been ringing his cell phone for the last six hours, and he hasn't answered!"

"What if Gus needs him? How am I supposed to get in touch with him?"

Well now, THAT did it for me! I pick up the phone, and hit speed dial number five. "Hello, Mel. It's Cynthia. No, Brian didn't ask me to call. He's on a business trip, but Lindsay is here. Is Gus okay? That's what I thought. Well it's just that she's concerned that if something happens to Gus, she has no way to get to Brian while he's on his trip. Oh he is, is he? Well that's just wonderful news! I'll let Lindsay know. Thanks, Mel. And I'll talk to you at the meeting regarding Justin's lawsuit, tomorrow. Okay, bye now." I can't help but chuckle at Mel's choice words for Lindsay.

Now I have to address the harridan in question, and I can't deny that I will take every ounce of perverse pleasure in delivering Mel's statement. Trying to hold back the wide smile threatening to burst forth, I say, "Lindsay, Mel said that Gus is fine, and just walking around the table, while holding on to it. But that you would know that, if you were at home... where you belong. Instead you are, yet again, following the mindless, mealy-mouth sheep named Michael around, trying to involve yourself in business that isn't yours. She's aware that you took the Idiotman to see your parents' lawyer this morning, because he called her to let you know that you have no case, which is the same thing he told Michael late last week. She says that if you don't find yourself at home within the next thirty minutes, you'll be finding a new place to live. She also said that she didn't think Michael's old room- which he's currently staying in- was big enough for the two of you, since she has all of the money in her account. And as an additional courtesy, she asked me to let you know that whatever is in the household expense account isn't enough to get you a room for an hour at the No-tell Motel at the corner of Liberty and Fourth. So you should choose your next course of action wisely."

"Oh wow... I guess that means you should be heading home, Lindsay," Ted says, jovially. "As for you Michael, don't forget that you need representation by the middle of next week, or you'll be going to court without any."

"Oh, and a small word of warning to both of you: the new security firm we've hired starts tomorrow. So your names and pictures will be given to the guards, and plastered at both the security check-in desk, as well as the front desk. Smile pretty!" I snap both of their pictures in quick succession, inwardly chuckling at the looks of indignation on their faces. "You will not be allowed into the building. If this keeps up, we will contact the company attorney to file restraining orders on you both."

"Bullshit!" Lindsay spews. "Melanie would never dare attempt blocking my access to Brian in such a manner, nor Michael's!"

"Perhaps that's true, but you should probably clean the wax out of your ears since I didn't say Brian's personal attorney, but the COMPANY attorney, which ironically just happens to be your own wife's personal attorney as well. For your infomation, most of the companies around here use the same firm. So I would suggest you both take heed to the warning, as it's the only one you're going to get. Now, since this is a place of business and we have much work to do, I would suggest the both of you GO tend to YOUR OWN business as well. Have a nice day. Ted, we have that conference call in about ten minutes."

"I'll be ready, Cyn. I was coming to bring the financials to your office, when I heard Michael and Lindsay." I grab the folder and head down to my office, listening to Ted as he ushered the two of them out of the building.

"I see you get a little position and you forget who your true friends are, Ted," Michael's whiny voice reached my ears, and not for the first time, I realize that he needs a muzzle.

"I don't think Mel will appreciate hearing about your treatment of me, Ted. I think she and I will have to reevaluate our decision to keep you on as our personal accountant."

I'm proud to hear Ted's sure and strong voice when he responds, "Lindsay, I have been Mel's accountant more years than you have been dating. Therefore, I have a very clear understanding of what she is worth... and what you are NOT. So there is no way in all of God's green and purple earth that you can threaten me with discontinued business since technically, YOU have NONE. I've also never tried to lord my supposed wealth over others."

"As for you Michael, if anything, Brian has only worked to uncover the side of my personality I have kept hidden for many years. I have a career which I love, a solid investment portfolio, and a bank account, which I have come by honestly, through hard work and sacrifice. I've never had to lie to my mother to get her to re-mortgage her house, because all of my ill-gotten gains have now put me in danger of having to serve a hefty jail sentence, as well as pay an astronomical fine simply on the strength of being an envious, spiteful, and stupid little boy trapped in the underdeveloped body of a man. Both of my degrees makes it so that I don't have to worry about being put out of my home, or worry about where my next meal is coming from in case my mother has finally gotten a clue about the little shit I really am. And even if I didn't have all that, I still wouldn't be an entitled, unmitigated jackass with a mouth the size of the Grand Canyon but with a brain capacity the size of a newborn gnat!

"So if having position within a new company with multi-millionaire clients has caused me to forget who my fake-ass friends are, then so be it. I have Em, Brian, Justin, and Melanie to call my true friends. Also Vic, Ben, Deb, and now Cynthia. Who do you have? Have a good day. Fred, can you please make sure they don't re-enter the building under any circumstances?"

"Right away, Mr. Schmidt," Fred, the temporary guard, continues to get Michael and Lindsay out as he responds.

When Ted steps into my office, I can't help but smile and hug the normally painfully shy man. "Working for Brian is doing you a world of good, Ted."

At first, I know he's surprised, but then he returns the embrace. "That it is, Cynthia. That it is."

"Are you ready to present to Dandy Lube?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he tells me as we sit down to go over the latest specs of the campaign. Watching him focus on all of the information, and not just the financials, I beam with pride. I am so fucking proud of Theodore Schmidt! And I know Brian would be, too.

Chapter 18: Don't Ask My Neighbor

Lyrics

You're wondering if I care about ya/ Is there's some cause that I should doubt ya/ Oh I can see boy that you don't know me very well/ You're so unsure/ And you run here and there to ask my feelings/ Friends only guess, they can't really say/ Don't ask my neighbors/ Don't ask the friends I hang around/ Don't be afraid to come to me/ Don't ask my neighbors, come to me/ Don't be afraid of what ya see/ You'll find I love you, come to me

Written by Skip Scarborough Sung by the Emotions

• Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

Justin

I can see the questions taking form in Brian's brain. Watching the way he takes in and processes information has always been one of my guilty pleasures. The way he seemingly stares off into space; the way his index finger or his thumb dances across his lip... Yeah, it's sexy as fuck! But it's also nerve-wracking when you're the focus of those thoughts.

I can feel each inhale and exhale, as the air exchanges itself within my lungs. I feel like I'm waiting for something, even if I don't exactly know what it is. Brian has that effect on me all the time though. I live in this constant state of anticipation... Or I did until I fucked it all up, trading uncertainty for predictability; decisive actions for the ambiguity of words; a difficult and more rewarding challenge for an easy, well-ordered existence.

I wonder if the excitement, and the constant state of arousal- sexual or mental- is something people in the easy relationships have. Or is it more like what I've experienced with Ethan? Is what Brian and I have more like what they look for when they want to step out of their monogamy-implied existence?

As if picking the thoughts right out of my mind, Brian asks me the question I've been asking myself a lot lately. "Why did you do it?"

"What, exactly?" I think I know, but Brian and I can't afford to have vague innuendos between us just now. It's part of what got us into this mess in the first place.

He seems to pick up on the need I have for full-disclosure, while sitting here in this restaurant waiting for our food. He sips at his Beam, before answering me. "I want to know what made you go to Michael and Lindsay in the first place."

"I thought we had gone over this."

"We did, but I want to hear it without all the anger, Justin. Please. It's important."

I swallow a small sip of my own cocktail, for a little liquid fortification. Talking to Brian is undoubtedly easy most of the time, but this... Well, this isn't. It's hard to explain my own stupidity, without sounding completely absurd. But I have to try, since this is probably the most important conversation I will ever have in my life.

It's the one that could really make or break us.

"Brian, I could use the fact that I'm young as a ready excuse, but I won't. Because a large part of me knew better than to ask them anything. But it was the small, still voice in my head that kept feeding my doubts about myself, since... Going to them was like a physical validation of that same voice telling me that I wasn't what you wanted, or needed; that I was nothing more than an unwanted bedwarmer, and an added responsibility that you grudgingly kept around out of guilt."

"Did I do anything to make you feel that way?"

He's remarkably calm about what I just said, and I want to ask him about it. But for now, I'm content to give him the answers he's looking for. I'm certain he'll do the same thing for me when it's my turn to play Q & A. "It wasn't you per se, Brian. Although I know you are far from perfect, the rest of the world doesn't. Now that's not your fault; it's just the way you are perceived, and that's on them. But in my case, it was okay for you to have your flaws, which were hidden. My flaws- my battered ego- couldn't remain a myth anymore, because everyone could see my gimp hand. Sometimes I would catch people staring at me with envy, pity, spite, or some combination of all three in their eyes. It's hard to be under that kind of scrutiny, when to everyone watching, I was The Twink who caught the Golden Stud."

"Why didn't you talk to me about it?"

"Because there were two things I know you always appreciated about me. Number one was the fact that I was a tenacious little fucker, who let nothing and no one get in my way when I wanted something. Secondly, I was as fearless and determined about living my life as you are your own. Hobbs changed all that for me."

"I still appreciate those things about you, Justin, even if you took a while to get those qualities back. But I still don't understand why Michael and Lindsay? They both have warped ways of viewing me through rose-colored lenses. Why not Ted, Emmett, or Vic? I already know why you wouldn't have gone to Debbie. She would have infantilized you, as much as Jennifer would have. But why not those three?"

I have to think about that for a minute, before rendering my answer. "Ted didn't see you as clearly as he does now. So at the time, he wouldn't have been able to help me through it. So I couldn't go to him with those feelings; same reasoning why I couldn't talk with Mel. I think that view has changed significantly since the incident, and he's- they are both- still learning. As for Em, he saw you as clearly as I did, but his concern was more for me and what I might do. In Vic's case, I know he loves us both and wants beyond anything, other than getting well, for you and I to defy all odds and just be together. I was worried that whatever he told me in those moments, would have been influenced by his need to see that particular result he wanted to happen.

"Michael and Lindsay weren't afraid to tell me- to confirm- what I was already thinking about myself, while cloaking it in concern and certain knowledge of what you could take and wouldn't take. To me, in that time and space, they knew you. Whereas, I wasn't who I was pre-Hobbs and couldn't stop drowning in my own thoughts long enough to remember Brian Kinney, the man not the myth."

"You said Emmett was afraid of what you might do. What were you planning to do, or thinking about planning to do?"

I don't want to answer him verbally, but I know he needs to hear it to understand how low I was just then. "Either end it all, or simply disappear." I see the horrified expression on his face, so I go on to explain. "You have to really understand what it was like, Brian. I was imprisoned in a body that wouldn't obey, no matter what my mind and will told it to do. I was trapped in a nightmare, never really remembering anything, but feeling the terror when I was awake, and yet still feeling all of its aftereffects. I felt as if I was of more use to everyone if I was just... not here anymore. Can you understand that?"

"To a degree, but still better than you might think." He's quiet and takes another sip of his drink, so I do as well. He sighs out a breath, and ask the next question; the one I've been dreading. "So, why Ethan?"

"That's a little more difficult to detail for you, Brian. Originally, I had no intention of furthering things with him. He was just a friend, someone to vent to who didn't know you, except maybe by reputation in the gayborhood. He was my Anti-Brian, my Anti-Michael, and my Anti-Lindsay. He was- is- a fellow artist, who wouldn't be much else without his talent, sort of like me. I could relate to him, because that's how I was feeling about myself at the time.

"Sure, I worked my ass off to get some of the lost mobility in my hand back, but here was a guy with full dexterity, who understood what it would cost him not to be able to fully practice his craft. And he was confident; I was just hoping some of it would rub off on me, in some way. The week I met him... Well more accurately, talked with him, outside of his version of flirting at the concert Mel and Lindz took me to, was the same week that I ended up coming to Babylon, high on some shit I got from Anita and downing almost a full bottle of vodka, asking you to dance with me. When you asked me why I wasn't home doing my homework, I told you that I quit. What you didn't know, and I wasn't in a state of mind to explain, was that earlier that evening Dean Ryasin had come into the life drawing studio, and told me that maybe I should give up trying to complete my studies at PIFA."

"You never told me that."

"No, I didn't. I didn't tell anyone, but Ethan had overheard. The day you made me go back, the day after you bought me the computer to help with my fucked up hand, he came up to me to ask where I had been and if I was alright. He told me he heard what Dean Ryasin said to me, and that I shouldn't buy into the bullshit of professors, who supposedly know more than God. It was what I needed to hear at the time, and as a result he and I became friends. We stayed friends for a few months, before I ever crossed the line with him."

Brian nods at me, as if he understands what I'm saying, and maybe he does. So his next question doesn't exactly startle me, but it is a bit disconcerting that he would want to know this.

"So when did he leave the friend zone?"

"The night of the floor picnic, but then you know that already."

"Not entirely."

"What exactly do you want to know about it, Brian?"

"What brought on the need to have one? Not so much the circumstances in which I said no, but I mean before that. Why did we start crumbling that night?"

"Ethan and I had a small one in between classes. I was hungry so I agreed to it, against my better judgement. I had already called your office to see if you wanted to go to lunch, since I had a few hours to kill. Cynthia said you weren't in, and Daph had a class. So I decided to walk around, and saw Ethan, trying to move this ratty old couch from the curb, up to his apartmrnt. I decided to give him a hand, since it was this little slip of a chair and wasn't heavy at all.

"Anyway, he was talking about what destroyed his last relationship, and it kinda scared me. By Ethan's account, his ex was a lot like you- the type to party hard at every given opportunity. What he said he felt was a lot like I was feeling at the time, like it was hot and fun, but that I needed more of... something. For him, it was commitment as we grew up thinking of the word. Now that I've had a chance to think about it for awhile, I think what I was really looking for was validation from you that I meant more to you than being the permanent trick. I couldn't decide how I was different from them, beyond the fact that I lived with you.

"Afterwards, Ethan had to go to class, and since I still had a few hours to kill, I took the bus to Mel and Lindsay's to see Gus. I don't know; I just needed to have a few carefree moments with the little guy. I knew Lindsay was there, but I didn't expect Mel to be there, too. As I was playing with Gus, Mel remarked that I looked like I had a lot on my mind, and that's when Lindsay said that I probably couldn't find you, which is how I happened up at their place. In retrospect, I detected a little bitterness even then, but I ignored it in favor of spending time with your mini-me. Mel came out to the living room, and asked me if I was alright. I hedged and told her that I was just feeling a little overwhelmed with school and returning to work. I didn't tell her about my conversation with Ethan, although maybe I should have. But then again, you and she weren't on the terms you are now, so it may have been counterproductive to making me feel better about things. I didn't know Lindsay had called your office for you until she came out of the kitchen, and said that you were probably at the Baths that time of day. So I took it into my head to have a floor picnic with you. I didn't want the one I had with Ethan to stay stuck in my memory as intimate, but I suppose it was. It wasn't until later, that we all found out you had gone to the hospital because of Ben."

"So that night, you fucked Ethan." Statement of fact, not a question.

"Yeah, I did. He promised me a song- a romantic one- and while I sat there listening, I felt really alone. I didn't want to be alone anymore," I tell him quietly.

He snorts. "Eat the Meat."

"What??"

"That was the campaign I needed to come up with for Farley's Steakhouse. While I was in the backroom coming up with that slogan, watching a leather daddy get blown, you were getting blown by the violin player. And all I could think of was that I wish it was you on your knees before me."

"Sounds like we both needed to forget that night," I answer him, raise my glass saluting him and then signaling the waiter for two more. He brings them over, telling us our food will be a few more minutes and shooting a wary eye at Brian. Brian glares at him in return, and apparently the waiter takes the hint and scurries back across the restaurant to the bar area. I chuckle briefly, before sobering again. "So anything else you want to ask me?"

"Plenty. But, Vermont... why did you go?"

"I needed to get out of the Pitts, and away from the reminder of you and me for a little bit."

"What do you mean?"

"We weren't really talking, unless we were arguing about something. You were really stressed out working for Gardner; I was still having issues with school and had just finished a shit load of mid-terms. It didn't help that Michael was being a dick about the comic deadlines, and expected me to spend the week working on that instead of relaxing my hand. When I told him about your impromptu trip to Chicago, he seemed so uncaring. It was almost as if he was gloating about the fact that our trip had to get cancelled, so that you could go after the Brown account. It wasn't so much that you had to work Brian- never that- but it was that Michael knew everything about the situation, and I didn't. I had to go somewhere to think, and it was obvious it couldn't be in the Pitts."

"So why didn't you wait for me?"

"It was stifling and there were still no guarantees that you would have been able to go. It seemed the more you did, the more Vance expected you to do. I figured nailing the Brown account was only the beginning of broken promises between the two of us. So why didn't you come to Vermont?"

"Emmett tried to tell me that I should and I was about to, but Lindz called the next day, which was Saturday and asked me to keep Gus for the weekend. Mel had a mega caseload, and she had some bullshit function that had her being summoned to her parents' house. Then Monday morning rolled around, and that was that. Now that I think about it, Michael's constant harassment was notably absent that weekend, even when I went to the Diner for breakfast. Em, Ted, and Ben were there, but Michael wasn't. It didn't even dawn on me to ask where he was. Can't say that I really cared, since I was hiding my disappointment at not being with you for the weekend. Now we know what both Michael and Lindsay were actually doing. By my calculations, around that time Taryn Charles would have had an appointment to get inseminated."

That catches me off guard a bit. I know we have to talk about it at some point this week, but I'm just not ready. I clear my throat and decide to move my timeline up a bit. "So that brings us pretty much up to the party."

"Pretty much. Except there is one more question that I need to ask you, Justin."

"What is it?"

"Now that we've cleared the air, and I understand what was going through your little blond head in your own words, where does that leave us now? What do you want?"

"That's two questions, so which one do you want answered first?"

"What do you want, Justin? Meaning, how do you want this to play out now?"

I sit and ponder his questions for a few moments. What do I want? The first part is easy. Him, now and always. The second and third parts aren't so cut and dry to figure out. I think about all I have ever wanted from Brian- all the things Ethan had given me- but that I've never had the guts to ask for, yet still wanted from the man sitting across from me. Contrary to popular opinion, I never wanted the flowers- just the meaning behind them. I never wanted romance in the traditional sense, but the consideration that usually accompanies such actions. But there is one thing I've always wanted and never got from him.

"I want a first date," I say, before my courage to voice the desire leaves me. The incredulous look on his face is priceless, and I can't help but snicker behind my second glass of Beam.

"You do realize that I fucked the waiter on my last first date, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember that story, which is why I'm sure you won't do that to me."

"Oh? What makes you so sure, Sunshine?"

"You get to see me dressed up in a tailored suit. How often does that happen? And I might even put out, if you're a good boy."

"You'll put out anyway, because I'm oh so good at being bad."

"That you are, Mr. Kinney. But remember, I'm a top with everyone else except you."

We stare at each other, and I can see him weighing his options carefully. I have no illusions that I'm a priceless fuck, where Brian is concerned. But he goes where no other man gets to go on my body, and that alone, is worth its weight in gold. That, along with the fact that I'm just as insatiable and demanding as he is, puts a different spin on this entire outcome.

"Fine. We'll have a first date, but I'll arrange it." At my skeptical look, he laughs. "Come on, Sunshine. When have I ever let you down?" I start to answer, but he beats me to it. "Your birthday notwithstanding."

"I guess I have to trust you, then. Oh, before I forget, George and Malcolm want me to go to this dance competition thingy. They usually go, but due to business needs, they aren't going to be able to make it."

"You're not seriously considering going, are you?"

"Yeah, it's for Wednesday night. It may even give me an idea for the mural for them. I was working on that when you showed up. I'm still a bit stumped, but I know they love ballroom dancing and its many facets."

"Okay, so is tomorrow night okay for this date you want?"

"If you think you can make the arrangements, sure."

"Prepare to be wowed, Sunshine."

"I live to be amazed, Brian."

"You will be. So... does this mean we're starting over, with certain benefits?"

"I see no need to break the system by instituting an enforced abstinence clause into the mix," I say, as if we're discussing nothing of more value than the weather. "That would be setting us both up to fail. We like to fuck too much."

"Damn fucking right we do."

"So to answer your question, yeah, I'd like that."

"What about Ethan?"

"You pick now to get his name right?" We both laugh at that, but then grow serious again. "Technically, we're on a break. But honestly, Brian, and this is just between us, it hasn't been working out since day one."

"What happened to the love that was supposed to last forever, love's eternal refrain and all that other drivel he spouts?"

"Eternity isn't as long as it used to be... especially not when it's with the wrong person."

"And how do you know I'm the right one?"

"I don't. But I'm willing to follow wherever this leads. So..." I raise my glass to my lips.

"To making this work our way, for as long as it lasts." He clinks his glass to my upturned one and takes a sip himself.

"What's between us, is between us, Brian. I promise that the next time there is a problem, I won't try to play Inspector Gadget and guess what the problem is. I'll ask you."

"Deal, Sunshine. Let's leave the guess work to those who will undoubtedly be trying to figure out what the two hottest fags in Pittsburgh are up to."

"I will say this though... I like meeting and living away from Liberty Avenue. Makes it easier to keep my business private."

I can see he's thinking about that seriously, but for right now I think we've come to enough decisions and agreements. It's time to just enjoy lunch and each other. Yeah... I can live with that.    

Chapter 19: FOOL'S GOLD

Lyrics

Oh, silly me my dear, for thinking that you'd stay/ Gave you my heart and then you ran away/ Either I'm stupid, I'm foolish, or you're playing me/ But it seems we were never really meant to be/ 
So I thought I would try something new/ I wanted to find out if I could live happy without you/ And it turned out I wasn't living at all/ But I would've never known if you had just played along

Somewhere deep down inside I knew you weren't right/ But breaking your spell was a plan I never devised/ I would've been here forever livin' for you/ But I would've been living forever as your fool

I bit into the apple
I took the wooden nickel, yeah
I was blinded to my core
And I went into the wrong door
And furthermore

I was living a dream believing things that just ain't true/ Oh I can't believe I ever believed in you/ You had me chasing fool's gold/ I was chasing fool's gold/ I was chasing fool's gold, I was chasing fool's gold


*Jill Scott

Lindz

I arrive back at the house after Melanie's undue threats. I don't know what is bringing about her funky ass attitude lately, but I've decided that I've had just about enough! I decided that if she wasn't going to help our friend Michael, that I was going to do so. Unlike Mel, I have a major stake in this fight between Michael and Justin. Even though the money Michael put out for Taryn could be looked at in several different ways, the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy will still come back to bite me in the ass.

After all, Michael has been acting on my well-placed suggestions, and has been since the beginning when we decided that Brian should be with one of us instead of Justin Taylor. That little fucking blond has gotten much further with Brian than either of us ever thought was possible. I don't even want to think about what he did to achieve such a thing. The bashing notwithstanding, what makes him so fucking indispensable to Brian? Yes, okay, so there is some quality in the little fuck that brings all of Brian's protective instincts to the forefront.

Mel remarked on it at Gus' birthday party some months before when Justin recovered part of his memory from the incident in the parking garage. But according to Michael, it had been making an appearance in increasing increments even before then. He told me about the night they were in front of Woody's, and Justin had been in yet another altercation with the boy who later bashed him. Admittedly, Justin had every right to take umbrage that Chris Hobbs and his cronies were on Liberty Avenue, which was supposed to be a safe haven for all things queer in Pittsburgh. Justin had said as much, plus some other things that Michael wouldn't exactly tell me, but Chris had pushed Justin, and Brian in turn got in Chris' face about it.

Michael said that Brian looked as if he was about to separate Chris' head from his shoulders, and if that famous Kinney glare could have done it for Brian, Chris would have been dead. Then there was the situation even before that, regarding Justin's father. It seemed to both Michael and me that if Justin wasn't in the picture, Brian- who would never have been placed in a position to defend us in such a manner in the first place- would be free to go back to being his usual carefree self. We've both noticed the small, but significant changes in Brian since Justin happened upon the scene, and feel that it's completely wrong. I especially feel it's wrong, since none of that couple-like behavior is directed towards me.

And since having Gus didn't seem to inspire him to show me the same level of protection and care he's shown to Justin, he and I having two more children should cement my place in his life nicely.

After all, I'm the only woman Brian would ever want to marry, and that is how it should be. Brian would never consider marrying Justin, and since he can't give birth to little Kinney children, there really isn't anything stronger that holds Brian and Justin together than their love of cock. Brian could, and has, fucked many people without commitment before; he could just go back to doing that again. I won't mind, as long as he takes care of me and the children in the manner that I was born into. No one else is entitled to that promise, and certainly not a piece of blond boy ass like Justin Taylor.

In truth, I always imagined that Brian and I would have three children, after he realized that he loved me enough to do so. Sure, I know he's gay, but he needs a beard for business purposes and that would have suited me, except when I wanted his cock in me. Brian has the most magnificent organ, with a natural curve that strokes my g-spot just right. The only other man I've fucked that comes close to having the same kind of curve is Sam Auerbach, but he has none of Brian's natural skill. There's just something about the way Brian moves within the person he's with that makes them feel like they're the only one that matters in getting off.

The fact that he's able to delay his orgasm until his lover of the moment reaches their peak, and then has an almost non-existent refractory period, is an added bonus. Having sex with Brian is one of those experiences a person lucky enough to do so never forgets. It's why Justin was addicted from that first moment, and no matter whoever he's with, he'll always be addicted to Brian's cock, just like the rest of us. But he has Ethan now, thanks to my interference. That's good, since Justin really should be with a kid his own age.

Oh, I know that Justin isn't really a child, but it doesn't mean that he deserves Brian. One should have to kiss a few frogs before bowing before a king, and Justin hasn't done nearly enough of that yet! He climbed Mt. Kinney and stayed there, until Michael and I knocked his tight little blond ass off. If we couldn't be riding high on the Kinney Express, why should he get to?! So when I found out that Ethan Gold would be giving a recital at the GLC, I told Michael that I thought I found the perfect foil for our plans to drag Justin out of Brian's bed.

Part of me felt bad because I was already messing with Justin's fragile self-esteem by subtly implanting the suggestion that perhaps he really should let PIFA go, after he told me about what Dean Ryasin said. I saw it as my opportunity to get him to do something else that wouldn't draw so much attention to him, in general. Like Brian, Justin is more intelligent than most, and beautiful, which he will only grow to be moreso as he ages. But then he has the temerity to be supremely talented as well, and it just isn't fair that he should have all of that going for him. Beauty, brains, and brilliance at his craft should be something he should have had to work for, just like every-fucking-body else!

So yes, I was jealous enough of his talent that since I couldn't have it, I wanted to it destroyed, too.

But back to how Ethan became involved in this... I knew the young man, having been introduced to him some months before by a mutual friend from the country club my parents are members of. It was kind of fortuitous that he was between boyfriends at the time. His high school sweetheart had just departed for Harvard, and they had decided to call it quits. So I decided to probe and find out if he was looking for a new one, then showed him a picture of Justin.

It wasn't decided until Ethan had flirted with Justin after his recital at the GLC that Ethan agreed to seduce Justin away from Brian. Michael said that offering Ethan money would get the results faster. He was only going to give Ethan a thousand dollars, but I told Michael to increase it to fifteen thousand- five grand to woo, and ten to remove. I reasoned that although Ethan is a college student, and his family is upper middle class, he was still responsible for his travel money. It was our intention that when Ethan traveled Justin would be by his side as it should be, since they are of an age.

We created a backstory for Ethan's dating life. Since Justin seemed to be attracted to tragic heroes, like Brian, we had Ethan tell Justin about his ex-boyfriend, who also loved to party hard and was commitment-phobic. Ethan used the invented story to place certain seeds in Justin's mind as a cautionary tale, and to build his self-esteem up. Then Michael and I would tear it down piece by piece, knowing that he would never tell Brian what we said. Brian not seeing him as a weak little faggot was extremely important to Justin, and it worked to mine and Michael's ultimate advantage. Brian helped destroy his relationship with Justin simply by being himself.

Eventually Justin got tired of all the things Brian seemingly did, and left. Now Ethan says that Justin is being secretive and standoffish; that he has his own house, but no one knows where it is. I wish he had told us all of this when Justin first moved out. Michael and I just found out about the sudden trip to California when we were in the Diner this morning, and Kiki asked Deb if she'd heard from Justin since he'd left. There was some mention of a poster that Justin had created for the Carnivale, and then Michael and I started to put two and two together. If Justin created the poster, then that meant Brian has been talking to Justin in the weeks since the little asshole got released from the hospital.

This news is especially troubling because although Justin is in LA now, we aren't quite certain where Brian is. Neither Ted nor that snob, Cynthia, are being forthcoming about where the fuck Brian's business meeting is. Using Gus hadn't worked to gain any information, because that fucking meddling bitch, Cynthia, had the nerve to call Melanie while Michael and I were standing there demanding that Ted tell us where Brian is. Before I even have a chance to further analyze the situation, Melanie is standing in the doorway, glowering at me.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Lindsay?"

"About what this time, Mel?"

"First, taking that thieving little fucker, Michael, to your parents' lawyer, and then harassing Ted and Cynthia, using Gus as your entitlement to do so. You know, I'm getting pretty fucking fed up with this shit!"

I step into the house, and turn to face her. "Fine! Be fed up, but then you'll be missing out on Gus growing up because I'll be a fucking sonofabitch, before I let you have custody of him!"

"Well unless you grow a dick you can't be a son of anything! And that's the main problem with you lately, isn't it? That you can't be a man, or is it that you can't get one, specifically Brian Kinney? If you were, you still think that you stalking Brian would make a difference in the fact that he doesn't want to be bothered by you every six seconds? Is that it? Well let me disabuse you of that right now, Lindz. He still wouldn't be interested in you, because lately you've become an interfering, nosy, self-entitled shrew! And for the record, I've already filed papers regarding Gus. Your set should arrive at your parents house by the time you reach there."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means that you are not allowed within 50 feet of Gus and I. I'm also filing for divorce. Don't worry, your parents are willing to give you a place to stay. I showed them the tape with you riding about fifty dicks, so they are convinced that you are finally ready to start dating MEN now. Your stuff has already been sent ahead, and they are waiting for you."

She's holding the door open for me, and as I move to say something else in my defense, there is Carl and another three officers coming up the stairs to the front porch.

"Lindz, I would say that it is good to see you but under these difficult circumstances, I'm sure you'll forgive me that I'm not. These are Officers Llywelyn and Rodriguez. They are going to take you to the Petersons Residence in Sewickley. You are not allowed to have contact with Melanie and/or Gus until the matter of your divorce is resolved. I would advise that you contact your attorney for further instructions and legal advice," Carl tells me.

"Mel, surely you know you are making a mistake," I plead with her. "Look, we can work this out. I love you."

"Sure, you do. No, Lindsay, the only thing you love is yourself, and most assuredly Michael's brand of mischief, too. I don't want Gus to become a pawn in whatever game the two of you are playing. It doesn't help that you and I are on opposite sides of the issue as well, and it is disrupting Gus' home life significantly. I've already agreed to keep Ron informed about Gus' progress so any information you want to know, he'll be able to provide you with. Nancy is determined for you to find a cock to ride immediately, and has set you up on several dates already. Her only requirement for taking you in is that you don't mention your ‘female fornicating of ten years, or the bastard child it resulted in.' Well Sweetheart, you were so desperate to return to the WASP nest and high society, now you will. Have a nice life."

I couldn't believe any of this was happening. More importantly, that with what Mel and my parents have arranged, there was no way that I could be a mother to any of my children, without being broke and homeless. I can't even sue Mel for alimony because of a ...tape? What tape?

As if she heard my wheels turning, she whispers to me, "Oh Lindsay, before I forget... Your mother was also adamant about you disassociating yourself from Samuel Auerbach, immediately. The ‘scruffy goat,' as she calls him, is too crude to be allowed in polite society, even though he is because of his career in Art. As for the other men you've fucked in the car with Gus strapped in his carseat, either awake or sleeping, your parents have a copy of all of it and said that they would use it if necessary to bring you to heel. A word of advice, don't cheat on your next victim, unless you're sure they don't have a live feed or recording of your ass in the air. Brian also knows about it, and has agreed with every action I'm taking, so you don't get to whine and cry to him, either. And you certainly won't get to be a parent to Gus... or the others."

My eyes widen at the mention of the others. No one is supposed to know about them! Mel reaches into my purse, and takes my cell phone, as well as the credit cards with both of our names on them and the checkbook. It dawns on me just how at my parents' mercy I really am now, just as I was at Melanie's and Brian's. It really is disconcerting.

But I will find a way out of this; I have to. But...

Carl and the officers usher me to the car, and although I am still dazed about how my life has been turned inside out because of a few indiscretions, I can't help but feel a little betrayed by one of my so called best friends. My first order of business has now become how to make Brian Kinney pay for siding with Melanie. And I think I know just how to do that. But as I reach for my cell phone, I can't help but fucking curse. All of my important numbers were in there, and the very ONE I need, is unlisted!

And with all that my mother intends to do, there's no way I can get out of the house or go anywhere without her shadowing every fucking move I make. I am so fucking fucked!!

Ben

I arrive at what used to be Mel and Lindsay's house. I'm interested to find out if Mel's plan has worked. Since I see Lindsay in the back of the squad car, I imagine it has, but I also know what Mel is going through. I want to be there for her the way she has been for me. I don't think I could have made it through these past few weeks without Melanie, Ted, and Emmett.

They are such wonderful people to have in your corner after a devastation like the one I felt after Michael's betrayal. I'm still feeling some effects after that, like my sudden development of trust issues. But with friends like them, I know I'll be back to happy fairly soon. She opens the door, and the first thing I notice are the red puffy eyes and the blotchy skin, which tells me that she's been crying hard. I open my arms, and she comes into them willingly, which let's me know just how truly hurt she really is.

Mel is a lot like Brian. Neither one accepts gratitude or empathy very well, or often. They brush off any type of vulnerability, content in the knowledge that they are strong people all on their own. But it's times like this that I notice their distinct differences. There are times when life just gets to be too much, and whereas Brian would find the nearest backroom and bar, Mel sits and ponders until her mind begins to question itself as to if she has indeed done the right thing.

She lets herself question what's next, but never makes the move. Unlike Brian, who asks what's next, and immediately jumps into action. I watched him do that when Justin left. I knew he was devastated, but instead of wondering what to do now, he threw himself into his job and as a result Kinnetik was born some months later. Mel needs that kind of focus as well.

"I don't want you to worry, Mel. We'll all help, you know?" I feel her nod against me.

"I just didn't expect this, Ben. I mean, ten years I was with that woman."

"I know. My pain regarding Michael seems minimal in comparison."

"No, not at all. It still hurts, no matter the degree of the injury. The trouble is picking up the pieces. I don't know where to start, Ben."

"I know, but it will come to you. Just promise me something?"

"Sure, if I can," she says, as she pulls back to look at me.

"Promise me... that you're going to bake some of those lemon cookies you made me last week. They have become my addiction. Who knew you could bake like that?"

She beams at me, and then laughs. "I'm just full of surprises, and you're in luck because they are probably cooled off by now. Gus is at Dusty's house, having a playdate. I didn't want him here during... well enough about that. It's cookie time!"

We head into the house, and already the spirit of heaviness that I've always felt here, is lifted. Having the place cleared out of all Lindsay's attempts to turn this house into her very own WASP queendom, has given it an almost peaceful feeling. As Mel and I settle at the table, she broaches the subject of the house.

"I'm thinking about selling this place. Too many memories- some good, most bad."

"If that's the case, then you should call Jennifer Taylor," I advise. "Any idea where you would want to live?"

"Wait, why am I calling Jennifer Taylor?"

"She's an excellent real estate agent."

"I didn't even know she was going to school for that."

"No one did except..."

"Brian," we say together, and then laugh.

"She was trying to decide what she wanted to do when he took over the care of Justin. Craig was being a dick and withholding alimony, while trying to prove Jenn unfit to raise Molly. Brian paid for her to go to school, and arranged for her to become a consultant with Kinnetik when dealing with anything RE related. Although Brian is working primarily in Advertising and Marketing, he's looking to expand his budding empire."

"He doesn't think he's moving too soon?" Mel asks me.

"Not with the way property is being snatched up. With the marriage initiative of the new millennium finally bearing fruit, a lot of people who left the area years ago for Canada are coming back. Brian is determined that he be one of the key owners of Pennsylvania property, so that those who are coming back won't run into homophobic pricks who will deny them access to quality housing simply based on who they choose to sleep with. As long as they pay their rent on time and take care of the property, it shouldn't matter," I tell her.

"Wow, that's admirable of Brian. Has he bought anything yet?"

"A large condo complex at the edge of Sewickley, and another in Harrisburg. Jenn did the negotiations for both of them. They are currently being renovated."

"I gotta hand it to Brian. Sometimes his impulsive tendencies pay off in spades. Maybe it's time I take a page out of his book."

"What do you mean?" I look at her, and I think I'm beginning to see the fire in Mel, which has been suppressed for more years than I can imagine.

"I need to talk to Ted, but if Brian is willing, I think I have a way for turning Kinnetik Advertising Agency into Kinnetik Corporation. I'm thinking that if several companies, including Justin's two businesses, are willing to join up with him to form a Corporation, it will give all the little companies that can be threatened with an influx of newcomers, who are also entrepreneurs, some much needed protection from being swallowed up. And let's face it, Brian Kinney can be very convincing when he wants to be. Look at what his little speech in Justin's hospital room did for me."

I nod, understanding the wisdom of her plan and what she said about Brian's advice to her. "Do you think it will ever be the same between those two?" I know I didn't have to tell her whom I was speaking of.

"There was a lot hurt on both sides. Brian trusted Justin with everything he had, even though he never said. But Justin validated Brian's assumption that people couldn't be trusted by his actions with Ethan. Now that's not to say Justin didn't have reason to do what he did, because let's face it, none of us know what it was like to be the boytoy of Brian Kinney. None of us have had our whole perception of life and our places in it rocked at the crack of a bat. Sadly, Justin did. And it didn't help that the puppet-masters pulling his strings were so good at manipulation, they caused Justin to buy into their bullshit as fact. The pre-bashing Justin would never have bought into their lies and innuendo, but post-bashing Justin did. I think he's finally beginning to get his mental footing back again, after all this time.

"As for whether he and Brian can pick up the pieces of their relationship- for that's what it was even if Brian refused to call it that- it remains to be seen. I just know that if they don't talk soon and make a decision to either work it out or cut their losses and move on, this unfinished business between them is going to ruin even their business relationship. And they work fucking great together! Did you hear that Brian is up for another Clio award from a campaign Justin helped him with back before he left Vanguard? The Brown campaign is the one they're nominated for. Justin was the unofficial animator and artist on the campaign for the print ads, and a consultant when it came to the commercials."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I ask her, incredulously. That fucking kid is just amazing, and the crazy of it is that he hasn't even finished college yet!

"Nope, not kidding. Justin just gets Brian. I've seen them work together a few times in the past. It's like magic! Brian will give the most basic concept imaginable, and then Justin will pick it up and draw it. Then Brian will add another layer to the concept, and Justin gets back in there to add the depth. It's simply fucking incredible that they are that in tune with each other. It will be a shame to see that kind of genius destroyed simply because of their pride, and the jealousies of other people."

"Hopefully they will get their shit together, Mel. I hope they won't let Michael and Lindsay win. Maybe they will see each other at the GLC Carnivale on Friday night."

"They should, since Justin is due to come back. His doodles from the earlier Rage drawings are going up for auction, and as an additional prize, the highest bidder gets to have dinner on Saturday evening with the artist. Justin agreed to it even before Brian asked him about doing the posters, which look fucking fabulous by the way."

"And as ad firm in charge, Brian has to be there. Maybe...."

"Uh-huh, Ben. We are not about to become Michael and Lindsay in reverse. Whatever they do, whatever they decide, has to be between them."

I sigh aloud. "You're right. No playing matchmaker. Where is Brian anyway?"

"I don't know, and Ted is being really tight-lipped about it. He's away on business. I guess they're keeping it quiet, until the deal at least goes through. It must be a really big account."

"I would imagine so." I shrug. "We'll find out soon enough about that, I suppose. Have you heard from Justin at all?"

"He emailed me back earlier. He's doing okay, getting a lot of work done and Wednesday, he's supposed to go to something George Schickle arranged for him. I think he said something about a Dance Competition."

"That should be interesting. I know that Emmett is working on a Dancesport exhibition and reception for George Schickle, as well. I wonder if he and his long-time companion are finally going to tie the knot."

"Maybe, now that Virginia Hammond is dead and gone. WHOO, talk about a battleaxe! I don't know who was worse, her or the ever present thorn in Brian's side, Joan Kinney."

"Well let's hope we don't have to find out. In the meantime, let's call Jennifer and Ted, before I finish all of these cookies. Damn Mel, you're going to have me on the treadmill for the next six months."

We both laughed, knowing that if it came down between eating these addictive lemon cookies and working out, these cookies just might win.  

Deb

I walk into the house, only to find Vic pacing with an envelope in his hand. He turns and looks at me and all I can see is anger in his normally-serene blue eyes.

"You just couldn't help yourself, could you, Deb? You just had to find a way to bail him out. Remortgaging the house again, Debbie? We just got out from under that huge rock because of Brian, and you willingly put us back there again because of Michael's inconsiderate, vindictive behavior! When the fuck are you going to let him grow up?! When you're dead and buried in the ground from working too much and too hard, is that when?"

"Vic.."

"Don't you ‘Vic' me, Deborah Jane Grassi! Don't you dare try to make the usual excuses about him being your son, and how you have to take care of him. Michael is a grown man! Or is supposed to be, at any rate. No, you are an enabler, and as long as he knows he has you to bail him out of any tight spot- any mischief he gets into, and any tantrum he throws- YOU are always going to suffer the backlash. Where's that notorious spine you're supposed to have, the one that never backs down, or gives in to bullies? I have a news flash for you, Deb: YOUR SON IS A BULLY! And you're his willing victim time and time again!" Vic slams the papers down on the table and heads for the door. "Rodney and I have moved. You're welcome to come and visit as soon as we get the house fixed up the way we want to, but Michael is not welcome. It's in the same neighborhood as Em and Ted's place.

"Do yourself a favor, Deb. Move in with Carl like he's been asking you to, and leave this place to Michael. If he wants somewhere to lay his head at night, I'm sure he'll find a way to come up with the money to pay the mortgage. I feel sorry for you, if you stay."

And with that, my brother has left the building. I don't think I've ever seen Vic as angry with me as he is right now, but what can I do? I can't leave Michael. I sit down and think about what he said about Michael being a bully, and you know what? Vic is right!

Michael may not have physically abused me... No, my job, and the extra hours I work to cover Michael's fuck ups do that for him. But he's emotionally abusing me, and he has been for a long time. I think back to the many nights I've stayed up, worrying about how I was going to keep my house while Michael took my mortgage money in the past to invest in his toys, or whatever-the-fuck else he wanted. Meanwhile, his own credit is so fucked up that he can't even take out a loan, and according to the receipts Mel and Ted showed me in the presence of Brian, Justin, Em, and Ben, Michael has exhausted just about all of Justin's money, as well.

But I can't let my baby go to jail. That's just... That's just, too much! No, he shouldn't have taken from Justin like that, and no he shouldn't have paid some woman to have babies in the hope of trapping Brian into a relationship. But... oh shit!

I wonder if they know about Ethan, and what I found out about Michael's involvement with him. Justin has enough worries- he's been through so much- but I don't really want to tell him that Michael paid Ethan to date him. Kiki told me about it when I came in for my shift earlier today. How could the son I raised do something like that? How could he continuously do these things to hurt Justin, knowing what he means to all of us?

One thing is clear though, Michael just doesn't give a fuck about Justin. I really don't think he cares for Brian either, otherwise he would want him to be happy. And I'm even starting to believe that he even doesn't care about me. If Vic is to be believed, and yes I trust my brother, Michael only cares for and about himself. Sadly, once again, he's proven that when he utters the words I love you, he is as superficial and fake as my many synthetic wigs.

His ‘love' is completely conditional, and as toxic as Craig Taylor's was for Justin. It's completely fucked! And the worst part, is that I've helped him think it's right and acceptable by bowing to his wishes, after the initial whine and then the cheese-eating grin of his smile when he gets his way.

With a new determination and resolve, I go over to the phone on the wall. I take one last deep breath to cleanse my apprehension of what I am about to do. I know now, that I deserve a life of my own, and Michael's stunts and bullshit have stopped me from stepping out on the same faith I tell everyone else to have. But I have to fucking find it first! I hear the phone ring, and the voice I am really longing to hear right now answers the phone.

"Horvath."

"Carl, honey. My answer is yes!"

Justin

I'm fucking exhausted, but lying here wide awake. Brian fell asleep after our fourth fuck. I think between the jet lag, good food, great talk, and even greater sex, Brian is officially worn out... Well, at least for awhile. After we left the Thai restaurant down in Santa Monica, we talked some more, just re-learning each other as he drove us back here to Hollywood Hills.

I got the impression that Brian is as intent on making this work, as I am scared that it won't. But we both agreed to try, and that's something. Most would think that I'm too young to be with a man like Brian, but I would beg to differ. Brian is determined not to stunt my growth as a man, or as an artist, hence the whole ‘no boyfriends' remarks. When I asked him what he considers me if not his boyfriend, he said that I'm his partner.

I brighten more and more each time I think about it than I did the first time he uttered the words. So Michael was absolutely right... Brian Kinney does NOT do boyfriends! But he does do his PARTNER, completely, repetitively, and tirelessly. And God I'm so sore right now, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

But as happy as I am at this moment, I know I need to make this phone call. Daphne called me just as we were pulling in to the driveway. It was kinda hard to concentrate, because as soon as the car stopped, Brian was attacking the erogenous zone behind my left ear with a vengeance. I listened with half an ear to her describe what the last three weeks I've been away from Pittsburgh have been like. Ethan keeps harassing her to the point where she is ready to head to the nearest police station and take out a restraining order.

Not only that, but Michael has been hanging around the campus, too. She's seen the two of them arguing, although she doesn't know what they could possibly have to talk about, except me. Ethan is this constant cloud hanging over my head, but I really don't want to be the reason he misses out on his opportunity of a lifetime. I look over at the man who is my own opportunity of a lifetime, and want Ethan to experience what it's like to know he's where he's supposed to be. He's not a bad person per se; just severely misguided and easily led in many ways.

I guess the same could be said about me, while I was lost within my own head for awhile. But the difference between me and Ethan, is that my issues weren't steeped in selfishness. I suppose that happens when you're an only child, and a prodigy at that. I see some of those same traits in Michael, in that he was never taught how to share, or that he couldn't have everything he wanted. I think I appreciate my mom and sister a lot more now.

Even if the context presents a different scenario, with Molly's arrival, I learned from an early age that the world, and its entirety, didn't and will never revolve solely around me and my desires. It's funny how the life lessons most of us were taught as children, translate and reshape themselves to fit into every situation in life. Sure, there are times when we all should be a little selfish, but it should never be at the expense of another's complete happiness. With that thought in mind, I pick up my cell phone, and walk outside. The full moon is high in the sky, illuminating the entire backyard and reflecting off the pool.

The gentle wind filtering through the trees caresses my skin with the warm breeze, allowing the fine sheen of sweat to dry. I smell like sex and Brian, and I find myself getting turned on all over again. But I know I have to stop talking myself into going inside to jump Brian's bones, and deal with Ethan. I really want to take both Brian and Daphne's advice, and break it off officially right now. It's past time for me to have done that since I knew by the second day of moving in with him that we were just spinning tires, and wasting time.

But I never want to be the cause of someone not being able to reach their goals, even if they are responsible for how they greet their own destiny. If Ethan doesn't make it to his personal version of success while he thinks we're still together, then it's all on him. But if he does, I can officially end this charade with a clear conscience. Cold of me? Maybe, but I refuse to let someone else be happy at my own expense ever again.

Michael and Lindsay taught me that very valuable lesson, even as I gave them permission- unknowingly or not- to do it.

Jumping into the pool, I swim a few laps, mentally preparing myself to deal with a clingy, whiny Ethan, which I know he will be. Not for the first time, I wonder why the hell I left the Rage party with him. But in life you don't get do-overs, only the chance to get shit right the next time. That's what Brian and I are doing. We're giving ourselves a chance to get it right this time.

Now that everything is out in the open, and we've made an agreement to speak our minds to each other without fear of rejection or reprisal; to not to go running to anyone else with the problem before we talk, I think we have a good chance. We both think that a large part of our problems was that everyone else knew of our issues, before we did. Yes, Brian and I live our lives as openly gay men, but when he's the King of Liberty Avenue and I'm the one who he fucks more than once, people tend to look for reasons to mess that up. It just so happened that whereas all of Liberty may have been waiting for my fall from the lap on the throne. And those closest to Brian were making sure it happened.

I've steeped and stewed in my thoughts long enough, and I need to call Ethan before it gets much later. Counting back three hours, I notice that it's just one in the morning in Pittsburgh. Ethan should have been home from the studio for a couple of hours, but still would have felt the need to practice a bit more. Lord knows I don't miss that! I shake my head at the thought, and scroll through my missed calls to see that next to Ethan's name is the number twenty-six.

I can't help but release a sigh of annoyance, that instead of practicing, he is finding a whole new way to stalk me even three-thousand miles away. Before it was showing up where I was, and hovering. Now it's showing up where my best friend is, and leaving me countless messages on my phone and emails. Well, it's time to put a put a stop to this! So I push his name on the touchscreen, and listen for the connection....

Ethan      

That fucking Daphne wouldn't tell me anything! Instead, she brings over some rent-a-cop who threatens to have me removed from campus. Okay... okay so what! I've been just showing up wherever she is. I figured that I would wear her down, using the same tactics I did with Justin in order to get what I wanted- or more to the point- what I'm being paid for.

But whereas Justin was nice about telling me to stop, Daphne is just a fucking bitch! If she would just tell me what I want to know, then I wouldn't be bothered with her. My God, I can't wait until Justin FINALLY honors my wishes, and ends his friendship with her! I mean, after all she's a woman; what could she possibly know about being gay?! That friendship should have ended YEARS ago!

Then to make matters worse, I find out from Michael no less, that Brian is out of town on business, but he doesn't know where. He said that Ted, who I know is Justin's accountant, and this Cynthia person- whomever the fuck she is- wouldn't tell him and Lindsay where Brian is. The GPS tracker that Michael usually uses to find out where Brian is has been turned off, and he wasn't answering his phone. Of course, that makes me panic as well. But Justin's has his tracker turned off, since before he left Pittsburgh; even before he left the hospital, in fact.

It's why I've never been able to find out where he lives, so that I could surprise him with a romantic dinner before he left. I still don't understand why he didn't tell me he was leaving. But that just gives credence to my complaints to Michael and Lindsay, about Justin's secrets. Destroying his car did nothing to bring us closer. Instead, it just drove him further away from me...

Fucking three-thousand miles away from me, to be exact!

"Hey, where are you?" LeRoy asks me.

"I'm right here, Baby," I say, placating him.

"Well come back from wherever you are in your head, and I'll fuck you into the mattress again."

He kisses my bare shoulder, and I can't help but moan. Even though LeRoy and Justin are as different from each other as night and day, they both have the same kind of pillowy soft lips, which when applied send tingles straight through to my cock. Also the way they fuck me is different. Lee takes his time, as if savoring me, but Justin... Sometimes I feel like he just wants to get me off, so he can get on with whatever he was thinking about while fucking me.

He wasn't like that in the beginning. He was kind and considerate and passionate. But then his preoccupation with other things started to affect our lovemaking. He would never tell me what was going through his mind, and would consistently dodge any questions I had. I just knew it had something to do with that fucking bastard Kinney.

I mean, it had to be since he NEVER EVER let me top him!

I remember when I tried, and was nearly decked in return. About two months ago, the deep gusty sighs of a man getting pleasured reached my ears as I woke up. At first, I thought Justin was masturbating and wanted to ask why he didn't wake me, so I could join in. It was then that I realized Justin had been moaning in his sleep. Seeing the furrowed brow as if concentrating on the imagined sensation, affected me as strongly as seeing the tip of his cock, leaking against his belly.

The semen glistening against the pale skin in the moonlight filtering through the window was hard to resist, so I didn't try to. I swirled my fingers around in it. Then I set my lips to the head of his dick to drink my fill. His hand had found its way into my hair, and he began to pull and tug gently at first, then with more force as he fucked my face. I was encouraged as I looked up at his sleeping face.

It was so full of passion like I had never seen it before, and knew I wanted to see it while I fucked him.

My own cock was hard and hungry, watching my beautiful blond get lost in the throes of passion, even as he slumbered on. Keeping one hand on his hardened member, I reached over for the lube and condoms, he always kept by the bed. I was going to give him what I knew he was craving. The sounds of his deep moans and mewling cries, encouraged me to keep at him. I put the condom on and slathered it with lube in preparation for what was to come...

Namely ME cumming in HIS ass, for a change.

Spreading his legs apart, I applied my lubed fingertip to the outer rim of the most shapely ass I had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. It wasn't until I pushed my fingertip inside of him, that I heard a low growl emit from him, and felt the strong, near-suffocating grip of his left hand around my neck. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Ethan?"

I think that was the first time I'd ever heard Justin truly angry, but at the time, I didn't understand why. Honestly, I still don't. 

"I'm getting ready to satisfy your body, Baby. You must have been having the most amazing dream. The way you were moaning and writhing and pleading... Oh come on, Jus. Just let me fuck you. You know you want to be fucked."

I leaned in to kiss him, even as he moved his head so that I wouldn't catch his lips. Instead of giving into me and his desires, Justin released his hold on my neck, got out of bed, then left the apartment. I was too stunned to ask what the fuck was wrong with him, or where he was going in the middle of the night. Based on that time of night, everything was closed. It wasn't until later, that I found out he had driven to his mom's house to sleep on her fucking couch.

And when I asked him about it, he told me not to fucking try to top him again.

I knew then that there was only one person Justin bottomed for, and I would never be him. Brian Kinney had ruined Justin for anyone else, especially me! He wouldn't even entertain the thought of another fucking him. It was evident that he'd rather suffer from the want; to remain unfulfilled rather than let me satisfy him. Anyway, from that night on, things between him and I haven't been the same sexually...

Or in any other way, for that matter.

"Ethan, if you're going to keep being preoccupied while I'm trying to make love to you, maybe I should just go home, and leave you to your thoughts," LeRoy's annoyed voice, interrupts my musings.

"Sorry, Lee. I'm just... thinking about the competition. I can't believe it's on Thursday. I guess I'm just super nervous, and excited all at the same time."

"I know, Ethan... I'm a bit nervous for you, too. But we both know you'll do fine. Unless Marta has mastered her nerves at long last, you'll have nothing to worry about."

"But that's the thing, Lee. She's been practicing how to stand up to the pressure. Marta is one of the best I've ever come up against in competition."

"And... Look E, the thing about competition is that it really doesn't matter how flawless you are in practice; it's about who has the better day. It doesn't mean that you aren't good enough, or that you've failed miserably at something you obviously want so badly. It's just about showing up, and doing your best. Let the rest take care of itself. And in the meantime, I'm going to take care of you," Lee tells me, moving to his knees before me.

I hear my phone buzzing, and am tempted to ignore it. But Lee makes the decision for me, handing me my phone just as he sticks the tip of his tongue into the slit. "He- Hello," I say, unable to catch my breath as he does it, again and again.

"Hey, Ethan," Justin says to me. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"N...No, of course not." I try to shift and stop Lee, but he's got his eyes closed and is lost in the sensation of blowing my dick and my mind, at the same time. Fuck! I love it when he does that. I clear my throat, and try to sound as normal as I can. "How are you? How's California?" I can't help the sneer that comes through at the end of the question, nor the slight hiccup emitting from me when LeRoy nibbles the pillar of my cock.

"California is great. In fact, I've had a lot of much needed time to think while I'm here working. I will be back in the Pitts briefly for the GLC Carnivale, and a few other meetings at the end of the week. I think you and I need to see each other. I know the competition is on Thursday, and you should be really busy but try to have a little fun too, Ethan."

"Oh, like you're having in Cali? I don't have time for that, Jus. You know that. This could set us up for life, Baby."

I hear a slight hitch in his breath just before he says, "No, Ethan. It could mean a career for you, which is how it should be. I have my own career goals, and it isn't to be your personal groupie. But this, and some other things, will have to wait to be discussed until after your competition. I just called to let you know that I'm alright, and to STOP fucking harassing Daphne. She's ready to throw you into the Lion's Den at the Pittsburgh Zoo, or into the middle of Meathook, so that a big hairy leather daddy will take you firm in hand, and train you. Those are her words not mine."

And then he lets out a little giggle that I've never heard him use before.

"Justin? Justin, is someone there with you?"

"Why? Is someone there with you?"

"What are you doing?"

"The same thing you are."

That brought me up short, since I'm actually on the phone with him while LeRoy is sucking me off. Does that mean he's also getting sucked off? And if he is, then by whom?"

"Justin, is Brian with you?!" I ask the question, before I can stop myself.

"Why would you ask me something like that, Ethan? As far as I know, Brian is in the same city you are," he answers, but then chuckles, low and deep, again.

"Michael and Lindsay are looking for him," I answer meekly, suddenly feeling a little sick to my stomach.

"I'm not surprised, but I am also not his keeper... and neither are you. Why, of all people, would they seek you out to ask about Brian?"

Again, I'm stumped by his question. I often forget how intelligent Justin is, and just how intuitive he can be when he chooses to. Well I can't very well tell him the truth, now can I? They were there to remind me of my obligations to them for the fee of fifteen-thousand dollars. Also to assure me that if I didn't find a way to convince Justin to accept leaving with me- whether I win the competition or not- they were going to go to the cops and tell them everything about the money AND the car.

I clear my throat before answering him, thinking of all their threats could mean. "They were just concerned, is all. They had heard you left for the west coast while they were having breakfast at the Diner this morning, and weren't able to find Brian. According to them, Ted, and whomever Cynthia is, weren't being very forthcoming so they thought to ask me if I had heard from you. I told them I hadn't as of this afternoon. Why haven't I heard from you, Baby?"

"I've had nothing of importance to say, Ethan and you know me... I don't like to waste words. I figured that since I'll be tied up with appointments for the next couple of days beginning tomorrow, that I would call and ask you to stop stalking the people I know, and get to practicing. Phoebe emailed me, and said that Marta is definitely competing in the Heifetz. So you don't have time to waste, chasing information about me. I want you to concentrate on your goals and do your best, E. Okay?"

I'm trying to absorb everything he's just said, but I can't shake the feeling that my world is about to go to hell in a handbasket the minute the competition is over. "Will you be back in time, Jus? I really want you here."

"No, Ethan. But don't worry, you will do fine. Well, that is if you PREPARE! We'll talk Friday, when I get in. I have to be at the Carnivale most of the night, but maybe afterwards?"

LeRoy is picking up speed on my cock, preparing me for the big finish. I feel the air exchanging in my lungs as I tamp down the urge to moan into Justin's ear as LeRoy uses my dick to fuck his mouth. God, this man gives one helluva blowjob! "Yeah, sure, okay, Baby... I- oh fuck- I'll see you Friday." I hang up, before I scream my orgasm into the receiver.

I hope to God that Justin didn't realize what the hell I was doing, while I was on the phone with him. If anything will make him compare me to Brian, it will be that we are both cheaters, even though Justin says that Brian didn't cheat on him, because he knew of the tricks. I don't buy that shit, but then again, I've never been the cuckold. If Justin is to be believed, Brian was the victim in all this love triangle bullshit. Either way, if I don't find a way to keep Justin, it won't only be my career in danger, but my entire life.

But right now I can't think about it too much since LeRoy has just sheathed that massive dick of his, and I need to be pounded until I forget that I'm fucked and fucked up.

Justin

If Ethan thinks I don't know he was getting blown the entire time he was on the phone with me, he really is more dense than I thought. The fact that I'm not upset about it, is extremely telling though. I simply don't care. So Ethan has a trick or seventeen; it doesn't matter to me. I can honestly say that if I had found out months ago before Brian and I even reconnected, that it wouldn't have mattered to me then, either.

I guess it comes with finally understanding what makes the significant other different from the trick. It's the life you actually share with the person, beyond the bedroom. Part of me hopes that Ethan will decide to make a life with whomever was sucking his cock tonight, but then the other part wants Ethan to be free to achieve his goals without encumbrances. Not all men are like Brian, especially not fairly sheltered, idealistic men no matter what their age is. We all have ideals, even Brian, but we also deal with what's real.

Ethan hasn't gotten there yet, and probably never will. He wants someone who will play second fiddle to him; the adoring fan, willing to put themselves on the backburner, so that Ethan Gold can shine on. I'm certainly NOT that man! But folks say that there is a lid for every pot in this world. So perhaps he'll find his.

And if all else fails, Ethan can have Michael. I laugh loud at that thought.

"What's so funny?" Brian asks me, from the inside of the pool.

"I was just sitting here, imagining what would happen if Michael and Ethan made a go at a relationship."

Brian mock shudders at the thought before saying, "You know... that might not be a bad idea. Michael always did love narcissistic older men. Perhaps it would serve him right to become one to Ethan. As for Ethan, he always wanted a worshipper at his temple of Fool's Gold, and Michael is just gullible enough to be that for him."

"Yeah, but they're both bottoms."

"A double-headed dildo will take care of that."

"And Michael is facing jail time if he doesn't come up with my money..."

Brian has this strange look on his face for a moment, but then he shrugs and says, "Well they approved gay marriages. Perhaps gay conjugal visits will be next."

He and I snicker at that thought. And then when the kiss deepens, all thoughts of Ethan and Michael cease to exists. In the quiet of the night, only Brian and I matter. And that's just how it should be.

CHAPTER 20: Teenage Dream: Katy Perry

You think I'm pretty/ Without any make-up on/ You think I'm funny/ When I tell the punchline wrong/ I know you get me/ So I'll let my walls come down, down/ Before you met me/ I was alright but things were kinda heavy/ You brought me to life now every February/ You'll be my valentine, valentine/ Let's go all the way tonight/ No regrets, just love/ We can dance until we die/ You and I/ We'll be young forever

You make me/ Feel like I'm living a, teenage dream/ The way you turn me on/ I, can't, sleep/ Let's runaway And don't ever look back/ Don't ever look back/ My, heart, stops when you look at me/ Just, one, touch/ Now baby I believe this, is, real/ So take a chance and don't ever look back/ Don't ever look back

We drove to Cali/ And got drunk on the beach/ Got a motel and/ Built a fort out of sheets/ I finally found you/ My missing puzzle piece/ I'm complete

Let's go all the way tonight/ No regrets, just love/ We can dance until we die/ You and I/ We'll be young forever/ You make me/ Feel like I'm living a, teenage dream/ The way you turn me on/ I, can't, sleep/ Let's runaway And don't ever look back/ Don't ever look back/ My, heart, stops when you look at me/ Just, one, touch/ Now baby I believe this, is, real/ So take a chance and don't ever look back/ Don't ever look back/ I'm a get your heart racing/ In my skin-tight jeans/ Be a teenage dream tonight/ Let you put your hands on me/ In my skin-tight jeans/ Be a teenage dream tonight/ (Tonight, tonight, tonight)

Songwriters: Lukasz Gottwald / Ben Levin / Bonnie Leigh Mckee / Katy Perry / Martin Sandberg

Teenage Dream lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Cypmp

Brian 

Okay so let's be honest here... I don't know fuck all about a first date. My first and only date was legendary in and of itself- well at least, it was for my date and the waiter. I only remember the events of the evening, but not their names. So, saying that I don't want a repeat performance of my extremely limited foray into the heteronormative dating experience would be a vast understatement.

Looking over to the clock display, I calculate the time three hours ahead before looking over to the man who has inspired both a high-level of anxiety, and excitement, within me. He's laying there sleeping with the peace of angels, while I am up again before dawn, trying to figure out how not to waste my opportunity of a lifetime. Justin is willing to give me a second chance- to give us a second chance- to see where all this leads. I don't want to blow it. Grabbing my cell phone, and walking over to the sliding door, I make a split second decision that will either make or break my attempt to give Justin what he wants...

Me.

Sitting on the daybed by the pool, and flipping open his laptop, I am startled at first by what I see and then mesmerized by the collage of photos and artistic renderings, which seems to chronicle mine and Justin's history thus far. I sit for a few minutes, looking at the drawings themselves: his first view of me as he stood under the streetlight; another close-up of me as I towered over him and licked my lips when he said he'd been to the Meathook before I asked if he was into leather; meeting Gus for the first time; my face as he danced on stage at the King of Babylon contest. But the one that stuns me the most is the one with him and Daphne, standing as they are watching my approach at his prom. It's the night I wished he'd remember, and the one I prayed I would forget so many fucking times. I wonder if he remembers all of it, and not just bits and pieces, but I won't ask him. I have to wait for him to tell me, if that's what he wants to do.

He may not even realize that he is remembering. And that produces a whole other set of problems for me. I don't know how I'll respond if he asks me to fill in the blanks for him. I don't know if I'll be able to do it mechanically, so that I don't fall the fuck apart in the retelling of one of the most beautiful yet tragic moments of our lives. But I know that I will have to answer him from my perspective if he's going to ever be able to make his peace with it.

I still haven't, but that's not most important; Justin being able to is.

Fighting the urge to slam the lid down on the laptop, and resolving to do what I came out here to do, I put the password JTBKBG9192000 in. I can't help but be thankful that, at least in this, Justin is still a creature of habit. The night he and I met along with Gus' birth was the first of many special moments, good or bad, and also one no one would actually guess since we don't talk about it in public much. I'm certain he never shared it with Ian, because if he did, then the fiddler would have known from the onset that he was like meaningless sex or like the Alphabet drugs of E, K, and GHB - a momentary high, and a diversionary tactic used when one needed to break from reality. After speaking with Justin yesterday, without all the accusatory anger between us, I'm more sure of it now than I've ever been.

That being thought, I dial the one person I know can help me not make a complete ass of myself, while giving one of the people who mean the most to me a day that he'll never forget. The phone rings and I take a deep breath, trying to strive for a modicum of nonchalance when I'm feeling anything but.

"Brian? How goes it in sunny California?" he asks, and I have to smile at the jovial voice on the other end of the phone. Even at eight o'clock in the morning on the east coast, I've never sounded so enthusiastic about life.

"It's been an interesting turn of events since my arrival yesterday."

"Oh?"

"Yes. A whole conversation without one of us yelling, snarking, or storming out, which is a major accomplishment for me and Justin. But he asked me for something that I have no idea how to give him."

"You? The master of words, images, and innuendo, is asking me for help? I'm touched and honored," he tells me. But even with our short acquaintance, I can tell that George Schickle's eyes are twinkling, and there is a small smirk playing on his lips. I really can't help but like the man. If Emmett Honeycutt is Pittsburgh's reigning Fairy Godmother than George Schickle is definitely proving himself to be my Fairy Godfather.

"He asked me for a first date."

"What do you mean by 'first date', Brian? Surely you and Justin have gone on dates before."

I bite my lip for a second, before answering. "We've been on dates, but never in the traditional sense of the word."

"Ah...let me guess, they were fucking dates then." At my stunned silence, I can hear him snicker. "Don't worry, Brian. Malcolm and I have been on a couple of those ourselves, but those days are long past."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope. Malc and I were too hot to trot back in our heyday too. It took some years, between us sneaking around behind Virginia's back to get our rocks off and finally after I left her, for us to become exclusive."

"What changed? I mean, if it's too personal, I'll understand." I couldn't help but ask the question. I never understood what made reasonably intelligent people trap themselves into a union, where everything could go south in a second after almost a lifetime of being together.

"Believe it or not, we did. It turns out that Malc is a top with everyone else but me, and vice versa. He was becoming unfulfilled, but was scared to tell me; same went for me. So ultimately he was tricking, because he thought it was what I needed to do. I was doing it for the same reason. It wasn't until we had a massive screaming argument that the truth came flying out from of both of us. We both had the same stalker, who thought because we both fucked him on separate occasions, he could insinuate himself into our relationship as our third. This person would show up wherever we were, and I thought it was Malc's doing. He thought the same of me.

"On this particular night, we were at the movies and I went to the bathroom, only to return to see the asshole sitting in my seat, kissing Malc. I left the theater and went home, leaving Malcolm to find his own way there. I accused him of wanting the guy, and Malcolm told me that he kept asking when I was coming back from the bathroom, so that we all could leave and fuck. He asked when he was moving in- the whole nine yards- and that was when Malc told me flat out that I had to choose what I wanted. I told him the same thing, because I was becoming pissed to see him with someone else. We made the decision right then and there to be together exclusively, and haven't looked back."

I thought about all of my possessive tendencies towards the sleeping man in the house. It was funny, but towards the end, I found myself getting more and more territorial of Justin. Where watching him fuck someone into oblivion before was fun and hot, it began making me feel like I had something to prove to him after it was done. I think back to that guy Eric, whose cherry Justin took, the same twink who had come to Babylon not two weeks later, when I fucked him. The only thing I think that curbed his tendency toward stalking Justin and I was that he saw us fucking in the backroom, and tried to join in.

Both of us laughed and told him to fuck off loud enough that there wasn't a doubt that he didn't have a shot to replace either one of us in our bed. Nor did he have the experience to even be considered a third in our non-relationship; not that we considered a poly situation in the first place. Based on the fact that Justin allowed the fiddler to turn his head, I would say that Justin was feeling that same level of disillusionment with the whole tricking thing, regarding me. Now that doesn't mean we're ready for monogamy or anything like that. But it does mean that we have to think about the reasons we're tricking in the first place.

Was it because we had something to prove? Was it just for the variety? Was it because we thought it was what the other wanted? George has certainly given me a lot to think about, and to eventually discuss with Justin. But right now, I'd better get back to the reason for this call so early in the morning.

"So George, how do I do this whole first date thing? I decided that if I was going to do it, I didn't just want Justin's undivided attention for a few hours during the evening, the way most dates happen. I want to do something memorable for him, especially since he's waited twenty years to have a first date with me."

Nope... Justin's never had one, not even during high school, and certainly NOT with Bowstring Boy.

George laughs at me over the phone. "Right, and Brian whether or not you admit to yourself, you've been waiting a lot longer to have a first date with Justin Taylor. Perhaps that's why your first attempt didn't work. The right company at the table is a surefire way not to fuck the waiter... or the cook... or the valet... or the..."

"I get it, I get it" I laugh. "No fucking anyone, but Justin Taylor. I think I can handle that, and he's definitely more than memorable in that department."

"I imagine he is. He reminds me a lot of Malc, in our younger days. Let me ask you something Brian... how much do you want this to work out between you?"

I ponder everything that Justin and I have been through in the last few years. Between his fucked-up home existence, the educational nightmares he's endured at the prestigious St. James Academy, my fucked-up relationships with my best friends which are just coming to the light, and the fact that we may or may not have children in common in a little less than two months, I would say for those mountainous reasons alone, I want Justin and I to work out. But I would be lying. I want Justin and I to work because I didn't know I was merely existing through life, until he showed up. I was always an overachiever, but Justin grounds me and gives me purpose.

He's an anchor, where I would otherwise be adrift. These last few months without him have felt remarkably like suffocation, in comparison to feeling like I can breathe freely when he's near me; when he's in my life everyday. Yeah I want it to work for so many reasons, but the most basic of them, is because he's Justin. "I want it to work more than anything, George," I answer, quietly.

"That's what I wanted to hear, my boy. And remember, that no matter the sacrifice of sanity at times, our partners are worth it in the long run. Justin and Malcolm are the type of men built for longevity; don't forget that. Now, having only been to California a few times by your own admission, I don't imagine you are very familiar with Malibu, are you?"

I smile at his deft change in subject. "Nope. I've never been there, although I know it's a coastal town."

"A very wealthy coastal town, my boy. I have a house there, which you and Justin will be staying in overnight or for the rest of the week; I'll leave that up to you guys. It takes about an hour to get there from where you are. Here's the deal, Brian... I will give you the tools to make this first date of yours the last one, but it's up to you what you do with them."

As George and I sit on the phone planning out the last first date of my life, the sun is beginning to make its ascent over the horizon. By the time we end the call, I feel better now that I have a plan and a schedule to keep. One thing is for certain: I am not now- nor will I ever be- built to be a man of leisure. I'm still lying naked on the daybed, watching the sunrise when Justin comes outside. He stretches and I smile as the sleepy, yet alert blue eyes travel the length of my body.

I extend my hand to draw him to me, fitting him into the vee of my legs. As he leans back against me, settling himself in and folding my arms around him, we relish the silence for a time. High above the city, everything seems so far away. I never thought I would love the sound of birds more than I like the sound of traffic, but I do. I can actually hear myself think, and Justin breathing, slow and easy.

I kiss his ear and breathe him in. Just lying here with him, in these serene surroundings, restores me and allows me to think clearly for the first time in ages. I find myself drifting back to part of the conversation with George.

"Brian, I am probably going to tell you the most important relationship advice I've ever heard or read."

"Okay. What is it? I'm not into the whole Shakespearean tragedy, suffer for love thing though."

George laughed again. "No. Nothing like drinking poison or slitting your wrists, is necessary. Besides who would I find to give me a kick ass campaign, if you did some foolish shit like that? No, this is much more simple and a lot more stable-minded than Romeo and Juliet. What tells you that someone loves you?"

"That's easy. Their actions tell me those things."

"How does Justin?"

"His actions and words do."

"And how do you respond?"

"It depends on what he does. If I feel he's trying to run my life or take care of me, I generally light into him."

"And yet, you do those things for him."

"That's different."

"Oh? How so? And make it good, Son, because I'm not following how it's okay for you to take care of him, but not expect or accept him doing the same for you."

Admittedly, I had to think about that. "When Justin does it, it feels like he's trying to turn into Suzy Homemaker or some shit. It feels so domestic that I feel he could be, and should be, doing other things. It almost feels like I'm back in Jack and Joan's house, where nothing is given for free, or without it being followed by some sort of hurt on the backend of it."

"Perhaps that's where the problem is. Misinterpretation of motives can cause hurt feelings and disillusionment. In a sense, you've projected those expectations from your past onto a man with no other motive than to show you the love he receives from you. And you do love him, whether you admit it aloud or not. What you have to do is figure out how Justin receives your gift of love.

"It's a lot like buying a gift for a woman, in a way. Most men would buy their women flowers and candy, thinking that all women like those things. But there is a certain percentage of the female population that has no use for such things, and would rather have a compressor for her car in case she gets stuck somewhere, and needs to fix a flat tire without a man's help. Buying them something practical and useful is more valuable than roses, which will die if not tended properly or candy, which gets eaten in about an hour. Had their husbands or wives taken the time and care to learn what says ‘love' to them, I think many more marriages would have a better shot of working out.

"Bottom line, you can't blanket ‘love', because no two people are the same. It undervalues a person as an individual, and ultimately backfires in unimaginable ways."

I couldn't help but think back to the aborted floor picnic, or Justin's words yesterday. "Justin told me that he didn't want flowers, but was searching for the same kind of intention from me. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense, actually. You were already meeting his physical needs of food, shelter, and in his case, tuition. What he was wanting you to show was that you put him first; that you thought enough of him to know that he was floundering emotionally. You've heard of the term, ‘It's the thought that counts.' This was a prime example of that. The floor picnic fiasco was the same deal, Brian. He needed to know he was important enough for you to forego Babylon, and just talk to him. He was looking for intimacy, which is not the same thing as sex, no matter what most people think."

Just sitting with Justin in the quiet, I understand what George meant now. The one thing Justin always asked for, after the... prom... was my time. Just times when it was just the two of us doing everything, or nothing at all, was all he wanted. But whenever we would end up doing something close to that, Lindsay or Michael would call. Work would be waiting for either him, myself, or both of us.

Enforced obligations of homework or Babylon would always be there to interrupt, or some other family crisis. It's no wonder why we were falling apart; we didn't know how to say 'no' more. And when Justin tried to, I couldn't. I wouldn't break my word to Michael and Lindsay. But in not doing so, I pushed Justin's wants and needs to the backburner, knowing that he wouldn't vocally complain or rail at me the way they would.

To love Justin, he needs quality time. He needs my actions, and sometimes, he needs verbal reassurance that he's as important to me as I am to him. Three basic things that shouldn't be so hard to give, but often seemed impossible for me to do for him. The funny thing is that I need some of those same things from him. For him to tell me I look good, touch me, or let me fuck him in whatever way I need to restore my equilibrium, and I'm pretty okay again.

But the fact that Justin wants to take care of me, is an added bonus. Although, admittedly I didn't always see it that way the first time around. He wants to be whatever I need in that moment where my world ceases to make sense to me. Such a simple desire, but something that I was never used to receiving. Well that has to change if I have any chance of keeping Justin Taylor at my side for good this time.

"We have to get up from here, Sunshine."

"I'm quite comfortable, thank you."

I chuckle at his haughty tone. "I'm sorry, but your human chair is about to leave the area in favor of a shower. I've decided that we are going to have a first date Kinney-style today, which means no work and all play. But we can't do that here."

"Why not?" Justin asks, as he burrows back into me, rubbing my semi-hard erection to full-mast.

"Because we'll just end up fucking all day."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, except that I made reservations and appointments. We have a ways to go, before we get to them. And I'm not cancelling them, so that you can be lazy."

He chuckles. "You do realize that this is a working vacation for both of us?"

"Of course, I do. But in the meantime, I am determined to show you that what you want doesn't intimidate me. This is going to be an all-day date, instead of that heteronormative tradition you were expecting. I don't do hetero, Sunshine." I can tell that he's intrigued now by what I've said, because he's stopped wiggling his enticing ass and is looking into my eyes, trying to gauge the truth of my words.

"You're serious?"

"As serious as Jen is about her pearls."

"Fuck, that's pretty fucking serious. So I guess we better get up then?"

"Guess so."

"But..."

"But what, Sunshine?"

"We have unfinished business first."

I roll my eyes mockingly. "Yes, you can blow me in the shower. How dare I think a growing boy like yourself can go without one of his daily doses of protein? Gotta keep your strength up."

"Uh-huh, and an old man like yourself should know better than to go without yours."

"Hey... watch it with the old shit." We both burst out laughing at my quintessential response to such a comment. "Come on, young man, off to the shower and then we're blowing this pop stand."

Justin helps me stand up and I can't help but grab him to me, delivering a good morning kiss which curls his toes. I drink every grunt and moan from him as he fits his lithe body into mine, grinding our erections together while he stands on the tips of his toes, so that I don't have to bend so far. Just having his sun-warmed skin next to mine in such a manner, arouses me in ways that words cannot describe. Justin has this ability to call up every possessive and protective instinct, which I work daily to suppress, to the forefront. The kiss becomes untamed and I know if I don't stop it soon, we really will be blowing the day I've got planned in exchange for countless fucks.

I've decided to take George's advice, and make Justin wait to get fucked. It should be an interesting day, since it will also be a challenge for me to be this close to him all day while suppressing the urge to ravish him at every turn. But I want to make this memorable for him in so many ways. I owe him that. Pulling back I say, "Come on, Sunshine. Let's get this show on the road."

After very satisfying mutual blow jobs in the shower- but when the hell is it not?- and some teasing touches while getting dressed for the day, we are on our way, and honestly, not a moment too soon. Another two-point-two seconds, and Justin was going to be wrapped around me... And I would have been his willing slave by letting him be. Damn this boy- young man- is dangerous when he sets his mind on seduction. I would say that the student has surpassed the teacher, but I think I still have a few tricks left up my sleeve that Justin Taylor is simply not prepared for.

One of said tricks- no pun intended- begins now.

"Sunshine, we have about an hour until we reach phase one of our destination. So I figured that since you didn't ask me much yesterday, you could ask it now." He seems stunned silent by the offer, and I resist the urge to cackle. I have finally managed to do the impossible! I've surprised Justin, who has always been on to me in some form or fashion. "Well go on, or would you rather put your questions in the form of truth or dare?"

That gets me an eyeroll, and a chuckle. But then, he turns serious. Since I'm driving he takes my hand, before asking the question that I wasn't really expecting right now. "Why do you trust Lindsay and Michael, but not me?"

I'm silent as I ask myself that same question. In light of the events of last week, I have been wondering that same thing. Is it that I like the abuse? Because that's what it is, what it was and what it's always been. "I don't, but for me to explain why it seems as if I do, Sunshine, I have to go back a long way. You prepared to hear it? Because I'll tell you right now, the story isn't pretty and it's not one that even Lindsay and Michael know the full extent of. Debbie doesn't even know all of it, the way she likes to believe. The only one who does is Vic."

"Brian, if it's too personal, you don't have to tell me."

And isn't that like Justin, to always give me an out. But he asked the question, and since it's all tied into the answer, I figure that if we're going to have full disclosure between us, this is the start of it. So taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, I begin to tell him where my trust issues stem from.

"You know some of it, regarding how I was treated by Jack and Joan. But there is more to the reason why she is always throwing her religion in my face, and I ended up at the business end of Jack-the-Hack's fists more often than not. Jack had a twin brother- a gay twin brother- named John." I let the implication of that revelation rest before I continue. "The funny thing about Uncle John is that he was always better than Jack at everything, regardless of the fact that he liked cock. He was born first, he was a first rate athlete and straight-A student. He went to college on scholarship for football and ended up playing tight-end for the Cleveland Browns, circa 1969. When he injured his knee during the playoffs, John decided to take his business degree and redirect his career goals. As a result, John started a sportswear company, manufacturing better equipment for practice and mainstream college and professional games. He would come to visit whenever he was in town on business, much to the dismay of Jack, who was a mediocre student at best, and spent his life working in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. An inglorious job to say the least, but still an honest living.

"To say he was jealous of John would be the understatement of the century. So when Jack knew John was coming for a visit, he would disappear into the nearest pub to drown his sorrows and lament what his life had become. According to Claire, Jack's main issue was that he'd gotten Joan pregnant and stunted any opportunity for self-improvement. He and Joan would fight the minute John left, and Jack would beat and have sex with Joan, something John would never do. Or would he? It wasn't an argument until years later- I think I was about seven at the time- that Jack had punched me for some imagined offense. John had jumped in and told Jack not to hit his kid, meaning me."

"I can just about imagine the stunned silence of that second."

"Yeah... it was so silent in the house you could hear a rat piss on cotton. Anyway, once everyone, including me, recovered from the shock, naturally a fist fight broke out between my dad and my uncle. Jack got beaten up pretty bad by the ‘fucking faggot' as Jack liked to call him. Several pieces of furniture got broken, and Joan called the police. To say that I was blamed for all of it would be an accurate depiction of why Claire and I weren't taken away even then. John made bail, whereas Jack sat in the slammer until he sobered up. Then he came home and he and Joan had it out. Of course she denied everything, but the implication was still out there that I wasn't Jack's kid. An implication that was completely plausible, because John did in fact, fuck Joan during a situation much like I had with Lindsay years later.

"John was out of the house when Jack arrived there, drunk out of his mind, accusing Joan of being an immoral whore, cuckolding him with his own brother. According to Claire, the fight between our parents went on for quite some time before Jack stormed out, leaving Joan battered and bruised. John arrived and was helping Joan clean up from several bruises Jack had put on her, because he thought they were fucking since she was so nice to John whenever he visited. Joan wouldn't stop crying and apologizing that John had to bear witness to the ‘aftermath of one of Jack's meltdowns.' John decided that a drink was in order, but it turned into many more than that. Claire's inherently nosy, but she was also scared out of her mind that Jack would come back and see them in bed together. So she crept into the room and woke Joan and John, before Jack came back. Of course, the cycle of a drunken fight and fuck ensued the minute Jack came through the door, and a little more than seven months later I was born. "

"And since twins basically share the same genetic markers, there wasn't a definite way to prove that you were Jack Kinney's kid."

"Exactly," I confirm. I'm amazed that telling him all of this is coming so easy to me, so I shrug and decide to tell him the rest of it. "And it only got worse as time went by, Sunshine. The more I achieved, the angrier Jack got and beat me for it. He stopped beating Joan completely, and focused his attention on the core of his problem. His faggot brother couldn't have possibly had intelligent male sperm when all he got was Claire, who couldn't get an A on a test even if she had all the answers. That was just too much to be borne, so he took the doubt about my paternity out on me, calling it making a man out of me. I didn't let it stop me though, since I was determined that I wasn't going to become the gay version of Jack Kinney- drunk, miserable and complacent in my own failure as a man, even a gay one. I knew I was intelligent, and refused to rest on my laurels to soothe his bruised ego. I got picked on just as Michael did, but the difference was that I wasn't afraid to stand up for myself. I had been doing it for years at that point, while mentally marking off the days until I could fly away from the Kinney coop.

"So while I was fending off the bullies for myself, I was also fending them off for Michael. In exchange, he would make sure that I went to the Diner and got something to eat that was actually edible; the shit Joan fixed would even make Jesus sick. Eventually, I blew the gym teacher, which you already know about. He was deeply entrenched in the closet, so I did and became his secret, in exchange for an open spot on the Varsity Soccer team. But I only let him fuck me after the championship game, where I scored the winning goal. I learned from him what a top was supposed to do, but I learned how a top was supposed to act from my uncle and Vic."

"So basically, Michael was your entry into Vic's world?"

"In a sense, yes. The other thing was that Michael fed my ego in ways that I needed, at the time. The deeper I suppressed whom I was as a naive kid born into the Kinney household, the more he stuck to me."

"A case of the ‘accidental best friend'?"

"More like intentional hero worship. Being friends with Michael taught me how to be a human chameleon and adapt to any given situation; how to turn a situation to my own advantage. In exchange for that, I protected him in any way I could. Same for Lindsay. Her friendship refined me, to a degree. From her I learned how to be a WASP, without having to take or pay for etiquette classes. In exchange, I helped her to learn how to live outside of the nest, and how to fight dirty when she needed to. When Rebecca Tucci dumped her, I was there to help her pick up the pieces."

"By fucking her?"

"That wasn't exactly how it happened but in a sense, I guess so."

He's silent for a time, and I'm beginning to wonder if I said too much. Hell, hearing my story from my own lips is a lot to take in, but he asked and I needed to tell him. Chancing a glance over to him as he stares out of the passenger-side window, I can see that he's processing all of my revelations. The making of Brian Kinney- Stud Extraordinaire- is a complex story to say the least. The making of Brian Kinney, the man, is even moreso, even while it's still being written. I'm startled when he speaks again.

"So what was the real reason you fucked Lindsay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know that even drunk or high, you never do things without a definitive reason. What was yours?"

I smile at him because only Justin would dare to pick my life apart, and ask the one question no one ever thought to ask me. "I wanted to know if I was definitely gay, or at the very least, bisexual. I thought if I was bi, then life would be a helluva lot easier. I could date a woman, build a life with her, and only indulge my need to fuck an ass every once in awhile."

"So what gave it away that you were completely gay?"

"You mean, besides the fact that I fucked about nineteen guys after I left Lindsay's bed, in the middle of the night?"

He laughs. "Yeah, well there is that. But seriously, what was it?"

"It's hard to explain, but remember how you told me you felt after you fucked Daphne?"

"Yeah. I felt like a human dildo. Sure, I got hard, because I was a fucking kid, and our anatomy at that age isn't exactly known for having dick control."

"That's exactly how I felt fucking Lindsay. There was none of that primitive lust we feel when we're fucking each other, or even other guys. If I'm honest, the whole experience was pretty clinical. She came and so did I, but that was mostly because I was visualizing the hottest guy out of the three I'd fucked at the party before I found Lindz in the corner crying. I wasn't concerned with making it good for her, as much as I was concerned with getting my question about myself answered. Makes sense?"

"It does, since it was the same thing with Daph. God knows I love her, and if ever there was a woman in this world I would marry, it would be her, since our friendship is so easy. But I would spend my life with her living a lie, if I did."

"At least you feel that way about Daphne. I would never marry Lindsay, and I think that fact is more telling about our friendship than anything else."

"You know she's convinced herself that you would. That's why she had Gus and why she's done everything else, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But oddly if I was going to marry a woman, it would have been one like Mel, or even your mother."

He looks at me surprised then. "Why? And my mother? Ewww!"

I laugh at his incredulity. "Sunshine, whether you admit it or not, your mother is a beautiful woman, who has lost none of her elegance, despite having two children- one of whom is almost grown- and a failed marriage to the wrong man. She's also a survivor and a fighter, even if it took her a while to remember that about herself. As for Mel, she's the only woman I know who is as career-driven as I am. She can verbally spar with the best of them, and is not afraid to call me on my shit."

"I wish she had done that with Lindsay."

"She did."

"Wh- what? What do you know?"

"Ted sent me an email telling me of all that we're missing there. Mel has finally put Lindsay in her place- back to the Petersons' house- to find the man of her mother's dreams."

"That's great, and about time too. But I guess that brings up the conversation we've been avoiding for a few weeks, huh?"

"Let's leave that for tomorrow. As for now, we're here." I turn into the parking lot of Oneta's, just off the interstate as George promised. "Come on, Sunshine. Let's get you fed."

He gets out of the car and walks in front of me. I can't help but watch his ass sway back and forth with that walk he has. Apparently, I'm not the only one as I notice a few other male patrons, watching as well. I can't stop the glare which enters my eyes, ordering them to mind their own fucking business and manners. I put a proprietary palm on his back and usher him inside, before I'm tempted to gouge out a few eyeballs to make my point.

"Brian, stop it," he says simply, looking back quickly at me and rolling his eyes before looking ahead again.

"What? I haven't done anything."

"I can feel the heat of your glare, even if I'm not its intended target for once. I'm here with you. This is our first date, so don't ruin it by having me bail you out of jail. Okay?" He turns to me again, and mesmerizes me with the full beam of the smile he has been named for.

I can hear several gasps from both men and women around the establishment we just entered, and I can't help but smile in return. Part of me wants to crow to them that he's smiling just for me, but I think they all know that since his eyes have never wavered from mine. I have the most amazing urge to fuck him right here; to give the entire restaurant the benefit of the Brian and Justin floor show, but I refrain. This is just about us.

So conceding I say, "Okay, Sunshine. Just this once, I'll behave. But if we have another waiter like the one from yesterday, all bets are off. Deal?"

"Deal," he answers, and then seals it with a quick peck of his plush lips against mine.

Before it gets to deepen, we're interrupted by a young woman who clears her throat delicately, and smiles. "Mr. Kinney, I presume."

"You presume correctly."

"Mr. Schickle called and told me to expect you. Your picture doesn't do you justice, sir."

"Thank you. George didn't tell me such a charming young lady was on the menu, or I might have traded this guy in for a new model." That earned me a laugh from her, and a slap in the stomach from Sunshine. "This is Justin Taylor. I believe Mr. Schickle has already placed our order, and requested a table for us."

"Yes, he did. Mom is already busy fixing up her southern style breakfast for you. She figured you'd be arriving about this time, so it should be out momentarily. I'm Colleen, by the way."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Justin says, turning on his WASP manners which come to him as naturally as breathing. "I think it's okay for you to call us Brian and Justin. Have you been in business long?"

She begins to usher us to our table. "Just a little over eight years. Mom and my grandmother started this place right after my dad left us. I'm in my third year of the five year BA/MA program at Pepperdine, studying Business. Mom figures by the time I graduate, we'll be ready to branch out."

"Well when you're ready, call me," I tell her, and hand her one of my business cards. I see her studying the artwork, and can't help but beam with pride. "Justin did it. Once he finishes his own degree, I'm hoping to snatch him up to work for me full-time."

"Brian," he blushes and shakes his head. It's a look that I'll never tire of seeing on him.

"What, Sunshine? Don't ever sell yourself short."

We arrive at the table, and I have to admit the view is breathtaking. The blue of the water is mesmerizing, but not as much as seeing Justin's response to it. It offsets the azure color of his own irises and I know based on his reaction, that with a blink he just snapped a mental picture which will show up in a painting in the near future. When he looks at me, I understand how blessed that water must have felt to have Justin's intent regard it, just for those few seconds. The ocean breeze is blowing through the open doorway, but it isn't so overpowering that it's knocking things over.

It lifts and shifts his hair, much like my fingers itch to do right now. Although the table is near the kitchen, it still gives me the privacy to do just that. He leans into my hand, never breaking the eye contact. Once again, I'm thinking how difficult it's going to be to keep my dick to myself for the remainder of the day. He is simply beautiful, and I have to think with the way he's regarding me, that he's maybe having the same thoughts.

Our waiter comes to the table to take our drink order and I have to say, he's nothing like that blasted Toby at the Thai restaurant. In fact he's fast, efficient and a consummate professional despite the fact that he's obviously gay, and is attracted to both of us. I heard him ask Colleen about the two of us, and his response was that he wished he could find someone who would go to such lengths for him, since his current steady isn't. It kind of reminds me of a conversation I might hear between Justin and his own bestie. But Colleen agreeing with him, lets me know that the talk with George has put me on the right track with Justin. 

Moments later our food arrives, and Justin is trying his best to glean information from me about what we're doing in Malibu. I refuse to tell him anything, but he's apparently enjoying the food enough that he lets my secrecy ride. I have to admit, the spread is pretty amazing with soft-scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, home fries with green peppers and onions, buttermilk pancakes, buttery grits so creamy they resemble the porridge my grandmother used to fix me as a kid, and fluffy biscuits. If we were back in Pittsburgh, I never would have eaten half of the things on this table. But it all just looked too good to pass up.

And I figure if I continue to play my cards right, I'll be working the calories off multiple times in a variety of ways tonight with Justin under and over me, deep into the night. So partaking of this fabulous spread full of carbs will certainly have its advantages. As for Justin, he's patting his foot underneath the table, and closing his eyes every luscious bite. His tongue is mercilessly molesting his lips, making sure to get every morsel of food and butter. Watching him eat has always been an exercise in patience and a prelude to every sexual fantasy I could dream up in that moment, but this...

This was a different experience altogether. The moans and groans he's subconsciously emitting with every forkful he brings to his lips has me ready to pour the warmed syrup over him, and lick him clean. Even the way his lips are caressing the glass filled with fresh-squeezed orange juice, has me about ready to explode. Based on the sudden tight fit of my jeans, if we don't finish breakfast soon, Justin is going to become dinner in more ways than he bargained for. Thankfully, Justin chooses this moment to push back a ways from the table, before I cum in my pants like a green boy with his first piece of ass.

His eyes are glazed and relaxed with this satisfied smile, playing at the corners of his full lips. I have to say that he's never looked more beautiful after an event beyond our sex life. I find myself wishing that he could stay in this peaceful well-sated state forever. The sun has moved a bit and it's shining off of his hair giving him an ethereal glow. I signal for the check and hand over my card. 

While we wait, he and I finish off our coffee, making small talk about inconsequential things, vowing that the next time we visit California at the same time, we'll make time to come here to Oneta's. The lady herself brings my card back, asking if everything was satisfactory. We assure her that breakfast was perfect, and exactly what we needed. She beams with pride and her smile is infectious. She wishes us a great journey and advises me that my next request is ready.

As we leave the restaurant, I remind Colleen to have her mother call me when they are ready to expand. I really want to start on the campaign immediately, since they have satisfied a food connoisseur like Justin singing their praises. But I settle for leaving a hefty tip for Colleen and our waiter, Jason. Justin and I chuckled at the squeals of delight we heard behind us. But I guess a two hundred dollar tip each would do that.          

We approach the car, but then Justin stops and turns me around to face him. Grabbing my face with both hands, he kisses me gently at first, and then more forcefully. I part my lips, allowing his tongue entry, and let him take complete control of the exchange. He pulls gasps, groans and sighs out of me as he changes the landscape of the kiss multiple times to keep me off guard, and show his appreciation. When he breaks off the kiss, I know that I'm the one now with a glazed look in my eyes.

Justin is the only man who could make me feel drunk and giddy by turns, simply by kissing me. And I think he knows it. Ordinarily, I would work extra hard to bring myself back under control to keep him from knowing. But I can't seem to slip the mask I've cultivated for years back into place. His smile is everything to me in this moment.

"In case I forget to tell you later for whatever reason, thank you, Brian."

Even though I was never one for gratitude- either feigned, real, or imagined- I understand why he's giving me his. "My pleasure, Justin." And it is... for better or worse; pass or fail, it really is my pleasure.

Moments later, we pull into the long driveway of George and Malcolm's beach house. He told me on the phone to take Justin in around the back of the house. When we walk around there, I completely understand why. I can't help but feel Justin, practically vibrating next to me, in his excitement. It's infectious, and I find myself looking even more forward to the rest of our time in Malibu.

Let the real adventure begin....

Chapter 20.2 Love Is: Teenage Dream Part 2

"Love Is" Brian McKnight (feat. Vanessa Williams)

[Vanessa]

They say it's a river, that circles the Earth / A beam of light shinin' to the edge of the universe/ It conquers all / It changes everything/ They say it's a blessing/ They say it's a gift/ They say it's a miracle and I believe that it is / It conquers all/ But it's a mystery

[1] - Love breaks your heart/ Love takes no less than everything/ Love makes it hard/ And it fades away So easily

[Brian]

In this world we've created/ In this place that we live/ In the blink of an eye babe, the darkness slips in/ Love lights the world/ Unites the lovers for eternity/

[2] - Love breaks the chains/ Love aches for every one of us/ Love takes the tears and the pain/ And then turns it into the beauty that remains /

[Vanessa]

Look at this place/ It was paradise/ But now it's dying/ I'll pray for love

[Brian]

I'll take, my chances that it's not too late...

Justin

So here's the thing... I just thought Brian and I were just going to have a dinner tonight, and fuck like any other commonplace couple who decides to have a night out on the town. Based on my low level of expectation, I am now standing here in awe of the most spectacular view I have ever seen in my life, and am being reminded of words that Deb had spoken about Brian in what seems a lifetime ago. Brian Kinney never does anything small or quiet. It's always some sort of production to make a point, or to force those of us standing around wondering what the hell he's doing, to take an action; to actually make a decision about what we want and stick to it, instead of merely coasting through life.

In retrospect, I probably should have expected this... magnificence. Should have remembered that it was okay for me to want my ultimate dreams of a first date with Brian to come true. But for the last year or so, I had forgotten that it was actually okay to want the best. To hope that somehow, I was worthy of the effort. And Brian has been reminding me that I am ever since I first opened my eyes to an empty bed this morning.  

His revelations in the car stunned me to no end. I mean, I hate everything Craig stands for, but I still know beyond any doubt, that he's my father. And yet the very idea that he was willing to trust me with such a cornerstone of who he is and why he is the way he is, that... Well, that is just... I hope I can live up to his faith in me; his faith in us.

Brian has always been my endgame. From the moment I met him, there was always this indefinable, undeniable something about him that would never let me go. There's such a vulnerability beneath the steel exterior, that called to a place of strength within me I didn't even know was there. Not until I had to fight with him to make him see it. Not until I had to fight his inner-demons to make him see ME.

And based on his actions so far this morning, I'm not alone in the battle for his heart and humanity any longer. At this moment, all the tears and pain we've inflicted on each other have been worth it. And no matter what this day brings, it will always be, since I know I've now become his endgame as well. I feel like we were here at this precipice once before. But it's different now, because I know I'm not in this by myself any longer; Brian is with me, and I'm not doing the heavy lifting alone this time.

I probably should tell him that I may be remembering the prom, but I don't want him to shut down again; don't want to enforce my will and need to talk about it to him. I called my doctor earlier last week to tell him the reason why I had to cancel my next appointment. He asked if I was still experiencing the same intensity of migraines I had been before I left Pittsburgh. I told him I hadn't. But I did tell him that I was having what seemed to be nightmares, even without having taken the migraine meds.

Extreme night terrors are a side effect of the medication, which is why I had to mention it. I wanted to get his opinion on my next step, especially since it would be a few months before I revisited him. He told me that I should probably talk to a psychiatrist about it, but I really don't want to. The reason I'm even thinking about this now is because of the dream I had last night. It was significantly different from the others I've endured in recent months.

It was actually calm for a time, with a spotlight and a white scarf. The surroundings were going by in a blur, but all I could feel was intense joy while the room was spinning. Vic was there along with Daphne, at separate times but I remembered Daph's dress in the pictures I've seen from that fateful night. I want to tell Brian so badly, hoping that he would give me some insight into why I'm dreaming more and more of the event I couldn't quite remember while awake, but now I do. I don't want to hide it from him and yet, I don't want to hurt him any more than I've already done since that fucking bat-wielding lunatic came after me.

The funny thing is that Brian believes this all happened to me because he dared to come to my prom in the first place; because he dared to make me happy and therefore make himself happy. I beg to differ. This happened because I love him, and wasn't afraid to show him. Sometimes I wonder if he loved me even then. I would like to think so, but without those memories, I can never be sure.

My neurologist told me not to push it, especially in lieu of my recent hospitalization. But FUCK!! I want them back! I want those memories almost more than I want my next breath. Like I told Brian, a lot of our problems stem from me not remembering who we were that night.

"What's wrong?" I hear Brian's voice directly in my left ear, before I feel his arms wrap around me from behind. Before I can stop myself, I'm leaning into his embrace.

"Nothing. This place is fucking beautiful, Brian; a virtual paradise!"

He looks at me sideways, but I can tell the moment he decides to let the matter go for the moment. I release the breath I didn't even realize I held for a long moment. Brian pulls me tighter to him and nibbles my ear, telling me, "The view is definitely beautiful, but I know of something that would add to it immeasurably."

"What's that?"

"Your naked blond little self, glistening after a swim in the ocean. But alas, we don't have time to make my fantasy come true right now."

I can feel the blush creeping into my cheeks, and my dick twitch in my pants at the thought of fulfilling Brian's wish. But then I caught the tail end of what he's just said. "Why not? This is a working vacation, remember?"

"Perhaps it is for you but for me, it's my first date. I don't want to blow it... Well at least, not yet." He winks at me, making the innuendo clear that I'm the it he'll blow later.

I can't help but smile at him. "I'm going to hold you to that. But why the hurry?"

"Because if we don't get into the house within the next thirty seconds, there will be two queens coming out here to drag me in there personally, thinking you will naturally follow."

"They would be right."

"Glad to hear it, Sunshine. Can't have them taking advantage of my sudden virtue, can we?"

I laugh. Brian can be such a clown. "I thought we already took advantage of a supposed virtuous man when we fucked Father Tom. But then again, he didn't sound like he minded."

"Who would when he had the two best tops Pittsburgh has to offer? But that's beside the point. We have a schedule to stick to, so hop to, Justin."

"Okay, okay. Geez, you're bossy."

Brian chuckles. "I guess you've rubbed off on me."

I turn in his arms. and kiss that special spot underneath his chin that makes his breath hitch. "I can rub off on you now, if you let me."

He moans, and I know he would like nothing better than to take me up on my offer right now. But instead he says, "Later, Sunshine. I promise, but we have other stuff to do. Come on."

He pulls me through the entryway, where the wall of glass has been pulled back. The kitchen is all white with stainless steel appliances and countertops. I barely get a peek at it, but it was long enough to know that Emmett would happily die in a space like it. The thought makes me chuckle. When Brian looks at me with the question of why in his eyes, I tell him.

We both end up laughing, and also saying how proud we are of him for striving to live his dream. We continue on through the house until we come to a set of four steps, which leads to a large den. The furniture is expensive, but tasteful and definitely Brian's style. I look over to see him considering... "No, Brian."

"What?"

"You know exactly what you're doing, and so do I. You are not buying a house in Malibu."

"I wasn't thinking that..." he hedges, but I don't let him get away with it.

"No buying, no renting, no leasing. Just no."

He rolls his eyes skyward, knowing that I picked the thoughts right out of his mind. "Fine, but it would be the perfect way to keep this- whatever it is we're doing- to ourselves."

"And we still will Brian, three thousand miles from here, back home in Pittsburgh. If we have any shot of working, it has to be there." Before we can continue the conversation, we're interrupted by a voice with a french accent.

"There you two are, Mr. Brian. I was about to send Gene out there to bring you in by the scrawn of your neck."

Brian chuckles. "That's scruff, Alphonse. Scruff. There is no scrawn-as you call it- anywhere on my neck, or any other part of my body."

He waves his hand dismissively. "Oh, you know what I mean. Now chop-chop..." he stops to consider if that's right, and deems it good before continuing. "...both of you. Gene, you take le petit homme, Monsieur Justin, since I already know Mr. Brian's measurements."

A big hulk of a man moves decisively towards me, and I find myself backing up. He keeps advancing while Brian and Alphonse begin to speak in rapid french. Meanwhile, I keep backing up until my legs give way and I crash down on the ottoman I hadn't known was there. "Brian!!"

The conversation ceases almost immediately, and I can feel Brian's regard on me even before I hear his voice. "Gene, no. Justin, Gene is Alphonse's partner and both George and Malcolm's tailor." I feel his hands around my back as I try to still the tremors, coursing through me. "Sorry, Sunshine. He didn't mean to scare you. He doesn't speak much, because he understands English a lot better than he can speak it back."

Brian speaks to Gene, explaining to him that I'm fluent in the language just as he is. That seems to put the hulking figure at ease, marginally. Brian pulls me to my feet, but doesn't release me from his hold, for which I'm grateful. I look at both Gene and Alphonse. "I'm a little rusty with the language, but I'm sure I'll get it back," I say in their native language, and smile at them. I'm gratified when they smile back at me, in turn. It means they've understood me.

"Great, so formal introductions have been done," Brian says. "Justin, I need you to go with Gene. He's going to measure you for later tonight."

"What's later tonight?" I can't help my curiosity, or my hope that he'll slip up and tell me.

As usual Brian sees right through my attempt. "Anxious much, Sunshine? We're going to a place called Nunya."

"Nunya? Sounds exotic."

"Yeah it is. It's in the land of Nunya as in none of your business."

"Oh, I so hate you right now."

"Well that's too bad, because you're going to love me in a few minutes."

"Really?"

He looks at me with that slow blink that goes right to my cock. "Yeah. But then you already do, so what's a few more hours? Let's just take it moment by moment, okay?"

I see the pleading look laced with excitement in his eyes, and know that I can't deny him this, even if the suspense is killing me. "Okay."

"Now go with Gene. I asked not to see what he's brought with him, until you have it on later."

"You trust me to pick out my own clothes?"

"Not even for half a second." He laughs. "But I do trust Gene and Alphonse. So go have fun like a good little boy and let the man do his job." He kisses me and moves off with Alphonse up the stairs, to the right.

I watch his progression through the glass rail, until he reaches the far door at the end of the hall. God, Brian's walk... Well it's more like a strut, is just so damn drool-worthy. He always walks with such poise and purpose, as if he can't wait to get where he's going. And maybe he can't.

It was that same strut that made me notice him, while I stood beneath a lone streetlight outside of a club that is known as our playground. It feels like a lifetime ago, instead of just a few short years. I'm reminded that I'm not alone by a subtle clearing of a throat to the left of and a little above me. "Shall we go, Mr. Justin?"

"Justin is fine, Gene. I feel kind of old with you calling me that," I laugh.

"How many years do you have, if you don't mind me asking."

"I'll soon to be twenty."

"Ah... you're going to age well then, Justin. You don't look a day over fifteen."

"I guess I could take that as a compliment, except that sometimes a young face is a decided disadvantage."

"Not necessarily. Just think of how many people you fool on a daily basis. That's what works for Alphonse. Because he looks young, people tend to underestimate him. I suspect you have the same thing happen."

"Yeah, I do. It can be especially frustrating where Brian's friends- who are more like his family- are concerned."

"Don't let it be. You can't please everyone, and you shouldn't even try. But more than that, you cannot control people's thoughts and actions; only how you respond to them. Remember young Justin, sometimes the best reaction is no reaction at all. Believe it or not, inaction is also a response, and it confuses those trying their best to get to you."

We walk upstairs, as I ponder what he just said to me. I try to put Brian's inaction regarding Michael and Lindsay into the context as meant by Gene. They had been dogging my heels for months; Michael overtly, but Lindsay more subtly. In the end, I did exactly what they wanted me to do, simply because I mistook Brian's inaction as not caring. As I saw it, he had become immune to the threats and insults that never should have been hurled at him, in the first place.

But maybe he just chose not to respond, knowing it was all bullshit. But where does that scenario fit into what was happening with us?

I get undressed, and as I begin to try on all of the suits Gene has brought with him, I can't let the question go. Yeah we resolved to try again and be different with each other this time. We let each other ask the hard questions, and got some unexpected answers in return... Brutally honest answers, at times. I'm interrupted in my continued musings by the ringing of my phone.

"Hello."

"Justin, my young man, how are you doing? Enjoying your day so far?"

"I'm well, Malcolm. Brian is... Well Brian is surprising me at every turn today. Oneta's was awesome. I'm surprised I was able to walk away with my somewhat trim figure."

I hear him chuckle at my comment. "Yeah, that woman knows she can cook. I usually end up dieting for three months after I've had one of her southern breakfasts. So how is everything else going between you and the Big Bad?"

"That's what I was just trying to figure out. We decided to try again though, so that's something, I guess."

"What's to figure out, Justin? You both love each other and you're willing to try. That's what's important. Sure, there will be trials and tribulations; nothing's perfect. But there are people and situations that are perfect for you. I suspect Brian is one of those people. Give yourself a chance to be happy, Son."

"I'm trying to, but I guess I'm afraid of what happens if we don't succeed."

"What happened last time?"

"You know already. I ended up with a combination of the Chucky doll from Child's Play and the gay male version of Lindsay, while Brian became a workaholic and drank too much." Chucky is who I always think of when Michael starts with his ‘I'm his best friend' litany. That fucking doll was both obsessive in his murderous intent, and manipulative with his innocent looks. I just see way too many similarities in Michael Novotny.

He laughs as he did the first time I described my relationship with Ethan as Lindsay the sequel. He sobers and tells me, "Look Justin, I can't tell you what to do. But I can tell you that the man, who is probably having the same exact doubts, wonders, and worries you are right now, is just as nervous about this as you are. The question is: what do you want?"

"Brian. I've only ever wanted Brian."

"Then that's all you need to know, Son. The rest will work itself out in whatever manner it chooses to. Your only job is to love him the way he wants, and needs to be loved. In order to do that, you have to be yourself. It's okay to see yourself as something more than an extension of Brian, to want to achieve more in your life than just be known as Brian Kinney's lover. It's okay to dream big for yourself and achieve those things you want in life. But trust me, in doing all of that, it will make it all so much better to have the man you love- the man who loves you, flaws and all- by your side. The world, as you have already found out, can be a very dark and cruel place. It's up to us to find the light in our individual worlds, and do everything within our power to keep it shining.

"A wise young woman I once knew told me to mourn the losses because there are many, but celebrate the victories because there are few. It was one of the statements that helped me to make up my mind of what I really wanted from George. So I'm going to pass along that sage advice to you, Justin. Brian is your victory; hold on to him and celebrate every single day you are together. You're a fighter, Justin and it's time to prove that to both, him and yourself. Look at all you've already accomplished in getting your hand back. No, it's not one-hundred percent, but it's proof that you can fight for the things you want and need. You once told me that your art and Brian were like the air you breathe- necessary, vital, and life-sustaining. You can't have those things if you continue to cut and run, Son. And you don't have to sacrifice a fucking thing to have one over the other.

"All you have to do is risk everything; for once Justin, take the gamble and play the cards you've been dealt. And while you're at it, enjoy the journey. See the scenery. Look back every once in awhile to remember the lessons you've learned along the way, but keep moving forward. The road to happiness is never easy and it's neverending. Even the easiest of relationships takes dedication and hardwork, and still has to be cultivated like a beautiful garden. Love is hard work and it hurts sometimes, but I'd rather have it unconditionally, than not at all. It can be paradise or a pain in the ass- and it has been both at times- but I would still take it as long as I have my Georgie. You have to decide for yourself how dedicated you are willing to be, because I can tell you this, Brian is all in. Are you?"

Despite my fear of failure, I nod. "Yes, Malcolm. When I dream of my future, it's Brian's face I see in it."

"Then whatever you both face in life, you put your fear to the side and do it. Fuck all the naysayers, because they really don't know shit! Fuck the yay-sayers, too, for that matter. Any relationship is between two entities, not five hundred! Don't allow others to dictate and decide for you and Brian how it's going to go, or what you two should expect from each other. You two hash it out together, in privacy, and leave the speculation to the people in the cheap seats of your lives. Your relationship to Brian is different from his relationship to Emmett. It's between the two of you ONLY. Got it, kid?"

"I get it now, Malcolm. I was just worrying about what we were going to do when we got back to the Pitts. I had to stop Brian from considering a beach house, otherwise we would never come home. Still might not, if Brian has his way."

Malcolm laughs. "Believe me when I tell you, George and I considered the same thing many times. But in the end, we decided that we weren't going to be forced out of our home, simply because people have no business of their own to mind. If you and Brian decide to move from Pittsburgh, let it be because you both want to and not because you feel forced out. So I take it the job offers in New York are still being considered?"

I had only told Malcolm about them, not knowing what I wanted to do. All I knew at the time, was that staying in Pittsburgh hurt every second I was there after mine and Brian's non-argument. I didn't go looking for the opportunities, but I couldn't just discount them either. "No, I haven't decided anything. I know that Brian wouldn't stop me if I wanted to relocate to New York. But with everything going on, I just don't know. I'm a little afraid to talk to him about it, knowing his penchant for forcing me to make the decision he deigns best for me. But I know I have to, at least, let him know I'm thinking about it."

"You definitely should, but make it clear that you're not leaving him when you do. And do it soon Justin, but not tonight. Tonight is for a long overdue date with romance Kinney-style and celebrating some accomplishments; the first being you and Brian actually talking, and not covering up a wealth of emotion over a false senses of pride. You're both growing."

I laugh at that because he's right. Brian and I are growing up in more ways than one, and it's just between the two of us, without the pressure from people who think they know but have no idea what I had that held Brian, and vice versa. This is our chance to build what we allowed to be torn down, and remake it into what we want. Despite everything that's happened, despite all we've endured, this is our chance to have something real and untainted; a love that is deep and true. One that just is what it is, without having to have someone else's stamp of approval or glares of disapproval...

I needed to be reminded of that. "Thanks for everything, Malcolm."

"No problem. Just be happy, Justin, and that's all the thanks George and I need. You both are becoming so dear to us- like the sons of our hearts- and we want to see you both soar in life. But you can only do that if you're completely honest with yourselves... and each other."

We say our goodbyes, and Gene comes back to me after taking one of the suits to alter it. I step into it and know beyond a doubt that this is the suit I will wear tonight to the land of Nunya. Fucking Brian, I think as I shake my head and smile.

"Problem solved, mon chere?" Gene asks me.

"Most definitely Gene. Merci."

No, our history- both individually and collectively- hasn't been pretty. But it doesn't change the fact that I would rather fight with Brian, than to be without him.

CHAPTER 20.3: Refugio De Amor ( You are my Home) Vanessa Williams and Chayanne- The FIRST Date Part 3

Toda mi vida / He estado buscando / Para alguien que me encuentre / He estado buscando / Esperando por sus brazos / Para tirar de mí / Usted me tomó / In del frío / Y de la oscuridad / Usted me ha tomado / Into tu corazón
Coro / Tú eres mi hogar / Tú eres el que yo vengo / Eres el refugio al que corro / Para mantenerme a salvo del frío / Tú eres mi hogar / Tú eres el amor / eso me completa / Eres el toque / Que me ha liberado / Me miro en tus ojos / Y sé que / Tú eres mi hogar
Eres la luz en la ventana / Cuando no pude encontrar mi camino / Llevaste mi corazón a / Quiero que me coloquen / Aquí además de ti / Tú estás donde siempre estaré / Tú eres donde pertenezco / Tengo Estado buscando por ti / por tanto tiempo
Usted es mi hogar / Usted es el que yo vengo a / Usted es el refugio que corro / Para mantenerme seguro del frío / Usted es mi hogar / Usted es el amor / que me completa / Usted es el toque / Que Me ha liberado / me veo en tus ojos / Y sé / tú eres mi hogar / Y nunca estaré solo

Coro
Bebé bebé
Bebe tu eres mi hogar
Te miro en tus ojos
Te miro a los ojos
Y me haces sentir
Bebé bebé bebé bebé
Tu eres mi hogar
Tu eres mi hogar

All of my life/ I been searching/ For someone to find me/ I have been looking/ Waiting for your arms/ To pull Me/ You took Me/ In from the cold/ And out of the dark/ You have taken Me/ Into your heart

Chorus/ You are my home/ You are the one that I come to/ You are the shelter I run to/ To keep Me safe from the cold/ You are my home/ You are the love/ that completes me/ You are the touch/ That has freed Me/ I look in your eyes/ And I know/ You are my home

You were the light in the window/ When I couldn't find my way/ You led my heart to/ Want them to place me/ Here besides you/ You are where I always will be/ You are where I belong/ I've been looking for you/ For so long

You are my home/ You are the one that I come to/ You are the shelter I run to/ To keep Me safe from the cold/ You are my home/ You are the love/ that completes me/ You are the touch/ That has freed Me/ I look in your eyes/ And I know/ You are my home/ And I'll never be alone

A DAY TO REMEMBER

BRIAN

After finally getting Justin out of the house and away from his new guy-pal Gene, we were on the way to our destination. Really, it's the first of two places. Many that know me could never imagine this since I always project a been there, done that attitude about or on pretty much everything. So when I was speaking to George earlier, he suggested the one thing that I never would have considered if left completely to my own devices while planning this date. That's right, Brian Kinney has never been to an amusement park in his entire life.

Being Jack and Joan's kid didn't exactly inspire these types of field trips. Whenever my class at school would have a field trip to one, I was made to stay home from school that day. Jack wasn't even big on leaving us with barely enough money to buy groceries, so let alone actually have fun with other people. When I would brood about it without saying a word, I was slapped for the silent treatment I was giving. Then slapped again for talking when he asked what was wrong with me, and finally told to shut up before I really got something to cry about.

Yeah... So amusement parks, in words or deeds, were definitely not part of my life. By the time I could go without the parental permission, I was too busy working my ass off to be the best at my job, and building my reputation as King Cock to have time for a childish dream or a teenage adventure into the land wishful thinking. Now though... Now I'm here with Justin, who has probably been to a million of these things, but still looks at it all as if it's his first time.

Every experience with him is fresh and new. And no matter how much he does it, he's always excited, as if the experience will be so much different than the last time. It's that one quality that I've always appreciated about him and what keeps me hooked and high on him more than any drug Anita has ever cooked up in her cousin from Tijuana's bathroom. I often teased him about being a dreamer. But in retrospect, I guess he would have to be.

After all, he's here with me and I've broken one of my most concrete rules for him. I came after him. And now we are about to embark on an adventure, I never would want to take with anyone else... Except perhaps Gus.

"What are we doing here?" Justin asks me, with that megawatt smile on his face. Already I see the wonder in his eyes, as he alternates between the view of the rollercoaster and looking at me.

"Would you believe me if I told you I was a virgin?"

"Yeah, right. Brian, I don't think there is any part of you that is virgin except perhaps the inside of your ear. Wait... you haven't done that have you?"

I look at him with an eyebrow raised, while he is scrutinizing me closely, as if really trying to guess if my Freak-O-Meter has caused me to try cumming in someone's ear. Suddenly both of us burst out laughing, the goofiness of the thought and moment as natural as breathing for both of us. And you know what? It feels so fucking good to just sit here and laugh like a teenaged hyena with him, completely sane and sober. This is something that I would never be able to do with Michael or Lindsay, without being stoned off my ass.

Again, I have to marvel at the difference between my friendship with Justin, and those with people I have called my friends for years. This has been one of the things I've missed the most with Justin. The ability to laugh at the foolish, or the mundane and to not have every word that comes out of my mouth analyzed and misconstrued intentionally to make him feel better, is so uniquely US. Sure, lately we've had lapses in communication during serious times, which led to a lack of these comical moments. But I think if we'd had more of these stuff-and-nonsense occurrences, that perhaps the more serious matters between us wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

So, note to self: Have more of this immediately and make an effort to have at least one hijinx moment with Justin Taylor each day for as long as this lasts. It may not last forever, but it won't be for lack of trying on both of our parts.

We alight from the car, and he's practically bouncing on his toes already. His blue eyes are sparkling brighter than stars in the darkest sky. His face is reading of pure pleasure, and he hasn't even ridden anything yet, including me. I only think of that last part because of the contrast in his countenance when he's in pleasure seeking mode. Right now I'm having trouble deciding when he is more beautiful: when he's free as he is right now or is it when he's both my predator and my prey.

I shake myself out of my reverie, knowing that there is absolutely no way to decipher which way I prefer him. I think that means that I'll take him any way I can get him.

"So what did you mean that you were a virgin, Brian?"

I take his hand as we walk to the entrance gate. There's a line, but it should move relatively quickly since it's still pretty early in the day. "This may come as a shock to you, but there is one thing I've never done in my vast experience of world-weariness. I've never been to a place like this."

His look of disbelief says it all, and suddenly I feel shy. I know that I'm about to say something asshole-ish, but he stops me with a kiss. It was very brief. However, the soft press of his lips convey a series of messages that my befuddled brain barely registers, but my long-ago-thought-dead heart discerns right away even before he speaks the thoughts aloud.

"I wish I could dig up Jack, and kill his ass again for depriving you of the simple pleasure of flying without wings on the swings, or racing against the wind using the wheels of a rollercoaster, or even feeling like the tallest person in the world as you're sitting at the top of the ferris wheel. I could still kill Joan, for being such a weak bitch in all aspects, and not simply because she fell off the Holier-than-Thou train long enough to have an affair, which may or may not have resulted in the magnificent creature before me. But I won't do any of those things, for one simple reason..."

"What?" I whisper, standing as close as I can without pressing my body fully against him. If I do that, we'll be ending this adventure before it even starts because I'll drag him back to the car and fuck him within a centimeter of his life. I can't help but feel lost in his eyes the way he's focused on me, as if he knows exactly what it feels like to be caught in his snare. I can feel the effort I'm making to slow my racing heart and control my exhalations; I can see the same reaction in his eyes as well.

"Because it's given me the chance to make a memory that is just ours, Brian. I'm the first person you're going to ride a rollercoaster with; the first person whose hand you'll hold on the ferris wheel, or taste cotton candy with. The only person you'll ever have the first experience of playing Bumper Cars with. It almost makes me feel giddy and like..."

"Like what?"

He smiles at me, and I swear there are tears in his eyes. Or maybe it's just the way the sun is reflecting in them? I still can't be sure, even as he says, "Like it will be just like my first time, too. In a huge sense it is, since you're the first guy that I like who I'm experiencing all this with. I couldn't stand my cousins, or the idiots at summer camp."

"So I guess that makes you a virgin in your own right too, then?" I can't help but smile at that thought.

"I guess so."

I grab his hand and lead us to the gate. I can already hear the screams from the people on the rollercoaster, and although there is a little apprehension at being one of them, there is also something else I don't remember feeling except one time before in my life. It was on the night of Justin's prom, as I spun him around in the middle of the dance floor, it was then that I received my first taste of unadulterated joy. As short lived as it was, it's a feeling that I never thought to feel again, but am welcoming that feeling right now. And as I look at Justin, with his sparkling eyes and wide bright smile, I know that I'm not alone in it.  

We get our tickets, and decide where we're going first. Justin said that we should start out slow, and build up to the rollercoaster. Since I'm an amateur, I follow his lead to the bumper cars. As we wait in line, I'm actually amazed at how fast it moves. He explains that there are usually not more than twenty cars out at any given time, which I found a little strange since the floor is actually littered with them.

I hear the laughter and playfully-worded threats coming from participants, even as Justin and I stand there making fun of many of them. Whereas I always equated fun with sex of some sort, I have to admit that the platonic display and atmosphere of camaraderie is in a word... Enchanting. Finally it was our turn and although I was loathe to do it, Justin and I separated to get cars on opposite sides of the slippery-floored arena. The whistle blew and the cars started to light up while in the background Prince's "Pheromone" blasted the from the speakers in the corner.

Talk about irony, or in this case, art imitating life... I can't help but laugh as I begin to hunt for my partner, even while I'm being bumped around by the other drivers; can't help but think of this as a type of foreplay as I look around for him. Although there are a million blonds in here, I only need to find one and I'll know the minute I spot him. There... there he is, with the back of his car to me.

Justin is sandwiched between two other drivers, who look as if they are hitting on him by the way he is shaking his head and laughing at whatever they're saying to him. The scene is a little reminiscent of his first night at Babylon, when he took my evening's entertainment away from me with a gyrating ass and a come-hither smile. I steer the car in his direction, keeping him firmly in my sights. Finally, gunning the pedal, I let the car careen into him. I hear the gasp and gusty sigh escape him, even as he whips his head around to face me.

I know there is a smirk on my face, when I see him reach for the downshift to send his own bumper car into reverse. He moves back into me while I send my own car forward again to meet him. The eye contact between us never disconnecting, we continue ramming into each other. I know my thoughts of this particular activity, and its metaphorical meaning, are as clear to him as his are to me. Who the fuck ever thought Bumper Cars could be so fucking hot?

But then again, since fucking is fun to me, it would stand to reason that anything which gives me a chance to ram into Justin would be also. I think both of us are a little unhappy when the ride ends. Next we head over to the swings where an old Whispers song is playing. "And the Beat Goes On," brings back some of my fondest childhood memories- as few and far between as they were. When my uncle came to visit, he taught me a little about old school R&B music, and how it often provided answers to relationships that we would never think to look for.

I thought the lessons were strange, at first. But now that I'm an adult, I understand what he was telling me with this song in particular. I must have heard this song blasting through the speakers on 80's night within Babylon a million times! But it was never more important than when Justin left me for the fiddlefuck. It hurt like hell to pick myself up and dust myself off.

I threw myself into work, work, and more work. Whether it was starting Kinnetik and acquiring Babylon, or fucking, I had to reclaim myself. The irony of actually listening to the words again was that it was the only other way I could tell what- or more importantly who- was missing from my life. Although I always found ways to tend to business even during leisure hours, the unexpected advent of a little blond twink under a streetlamp helped me to put it all in perspective; taught me how to have fun that didn't always involve being buried in someone else's ass; that it was okay to just be for a little while when no one was looking, or even if they were. So listening to it now, while holding his hand on an amusement park ride, drove home what Justin had wanted from me.

But more importantly, it's cementing what I want from him and for myself now. I'll still be the same hard and driven man I've always been, the same overachiever who will always want more and more success. But no longer will I be the man, who keeps chasing the ghost of Jack Kinney looking for approval that will never come. Then when I come home, I'll still be the man that loves Justin Taylor. And I'll be who is loved above all by my Sunshine in return.

"What lesbianic thoughts are running through your head?" Justin asks me.

"Quick! Touch my dick, make sure it's still there," I respond to his laughter. "Seriously, I'm just trying to figure out why we haven't done this sooner."

"Other than your reputation?"

"Well there is that, Sunshine. But seriously, why haven't we?" The rise and fall of the swing is soothing, and exciting at the same time. I really can't believe I'm having fun on such a subdued ride.

He shrugs. "I never thought you would want to go to Kennywood with me, so I never asked."

"Why not?"

"I... I just didn't think I could handle the rejection, Brian. We haven't exactly been in a good place for awhile now."

I couldn't argue with him there. "And now?"

He smiles at me and I swear it rivals the sun. "We're getting there."

"Through heartbreak, trials, tribulation, and interfering idiots, yeah... we're getting there."

He puts his head on my shoulder for the rest of the ride, nuzzling the hot spot behind my ear as I lean into him as much as I'm able. All I can think is that I can't wait to kiss him properly. As if he hears me, he suggests the Ferris Wheel as the next ride. When the Wave Swing stops, we head there.

"You have to get used to the height if you're going to do the rollercoaster, without a nosebleed or throwing up."

"Justin, how many plane rides have I taken?"

"I know, but this is a bit different. 33,000 feet in a fully closed vehicle is a helluva lot different from 330 feet and open. Believe it or not, a rollercoaster can cause more panic," he tells me in that PSA voice he uses when he's educating me. "Do you trust me?"

"I guess since I've never done this before, I have to."

"That's right, you do," he says, as he steps into the already swinging parachute-shaped contraption.

I would be lying if I said I didn't feel the slightest bit of apprehension course through my veins, when the door closed. The compartment wasn't very roomy like on a plane. In fact, I would say that the bathroom on a plane was bigger! But the one plus about this whole experience, was that it put Justin in close proximity. We began our ascension, only to be stopped every few moments.

To say that I was losing patience, would be an understatement. But Justin told me it was to let other patrons on. Still though... Justin decided that now was as good a time as any to distract me, and get me back to on track to relaxing and having fun. And what can I say, except that my man is a genius!

Placing himself firmly on my lap, Justin positioned his leg to stroke my burgeoning erection even as the parachute swung delicately back and forth. Staring into my eyes, he pressed his lips, gently at first and then firmly, against my own. I could feel excitement of a different kind- familiar and forceful- assailing me as Justin kept pecking my lips. For every stop on the way to the top, Justin would give me full-tongue action. Part of me wishes we would never reach the top of the fucking Ferris Wheel so that he would just keep wrapping his tongue around mine.

By the time we did reach the top, I know I was hot and bothered. But Justin called a halt to the activity, so that I could fully absorb the view. I have to admit that seeing the entire park from this height was absolutely amazing. The buildings off in the distance look like dollhouses, and the people resemble ants racing to and fro. The oceanview on the other side of the park, where the rollercoaster is, looks vast and dangerous, with the blue and white waves crashing ashore.

Seeing the tops of the other rides and booths is kind of surreal.

"Kinda feels like you're on top of the world, doesn't it?" Justin asks me, his eyes full of wonder and I know already that he's taken a mental picture of the scenery.

"Yeah, it does," is all I can say in response. But then something else occurs to me to say. "But I think the view I have up close and personal is far better."

He blinks twice in quick succession at me, the blush creeping upon his cheeks. Justin swallows hard, but his voice is husky when he speaks. "You've just earned yourself another kiss for now, and the fuck of a lifetime later, Mr. Kinney."

I smile at him, the one I reserve just for the man in my arms. I know he sees it by the catch in his throat, followed by the low growl before he attacks my lips with fervor. I can't tell you how or when we began moving again, only that for the entire descent back to earth, Justin was a hairsbreadth from ripping our clothes off and fucking me right here in the compartment the size of my closet back at the loft. I hear the attendant clear his throat a few times before both Justin and I register that we've reached the bottom and it was time to get off... THE RIDE! 

I swear an amusement parks tagline should be The Ultimate Foreplay!

"If you guys... Well, if you're both willing..." he begins, but I cut him off.

"Sorry. This twink is mine, and I'm not sharing." I almost laugh aloud at the crestfallen look on the guy's face, but Justin's look sobers me. He looks like I just handed him the winning lottery ticket or something. And once again, I'm tempted to check for my balls.

"They're still there," he whispers to me. We both chuckle again before moving away with my arm around his shoulders and his about my waist.

After waiting in line for almost a half an hour, we are finally on the rollercoaster. Justin chose the last car for us to sit in, saying that it's the best. I thought he was weird and told him so. His caustic ‘you'll see why' should have clued me right then and there. We're going up again and I find myself watching, a little scared as the ground gets further and further away.

Shifting in my seat a little, I keep wondering when the fucking thing would stop going up. Justin grabs my face and with one firm kiss, takes my hand and squeezes it. Before I know it we're fucking falling! He's laughing like a loon, even while I feel like the bottom of my stomach has hit the fucking coaster floor! I look over at him, eyes wide, and all I see before the most wicked curve is a view of the vast blue ocean with a wave that looks like it's headed straight for us.

The coaster makes a sharp turn in the opposite direction, which brings my vision straight to the damn ground then right up another fucking hill! OH HELL FUCKING NO! Justin lets go of my hand to put both of his in the air, and I find myself grappling him for it back before the free fall feeling is back again. Justin is laughing loudly while I watch him, face flushed and eyes bright, taking in every sensation unto himself. Fuck!

He's never looked so alive and beautiful except... Except when I fuck him. I know that there is a reason I'm just noticing this look of gratification, but damned if I know what it is. All I do know is that I never want it to end. That look is putting me at ease on this fucking rolling contraption which is hellbent on swinging me around for dear fucking life.

And do you know what... I want to take this particular ride with this man again!

When the ride stops abruptly, Justin asks, "Finished? Ready to go?"

I lick my lips. "Not by half, little boy. Let's do it again." And we do!

A DREAM REALIZED

JUSTIN

So far our ‘date' has been amazing. I can't believe how great it has been to just be together- no drama, no arguments, no angst- just us! I nearly came in my pants when he told that guy that I was his, and he wasn't sharing me. The guy was hot, but I think it was the first time Brian really took my feelings into consideration regarding tricking. It's not that I mind per se; I just mind when he does it without thought or regard to me.

Brian and I have never been conventional, but I won't deny that sometimes, I need to feel like we are.

I think beyond all the rides, the biggest surprise was his response to cotton candy. He actually offered the woman making it three-hundred dollars so that he could have it whenever he wants. Although I think there was a more sexual reason of why he wanted it, than simply because he fell in love with the taste. I think it had more to do with how it melted in his mouth, and the resulting taste in mine. Brian is ever the hedonist, so it would stand to reason that something as pleasurable as the sweet taste must be had by Brian Kinney on a regular basis.

I was floored when he asked me why I had never suggested that we go to Kennywood before. I honestly thought he would either refute what I said or simply disregard it, but he didn't. Instead he processed the answer, and understood where we were in our respective non-relationship. I guess all of the revelations at lunch yesterday really put things into perspective... For both of us.

I just remember feeling that I couldn't ask him to do something so childish because of his reputation, and because of the way I was feeling about myself at the time. I was afraid that he would see it all as reverting, something my cognitive therapist was a bit concerned about at the time. It took a lot of work on both our parts to get me back to being comfortable in my own skin again. But let's face it... My mind was still fucked.

In some ways, it probably still is.

Which reminds me, I really should tell him about these dreams- both awake and asleep. I just don't want to worry him, or disappoint him if my brain is flicking images at me that just aren't true. It happened again while we were at the park, about the fifth time we were on the rollercoaster. In the vision- which is what I've taken to calling them- Brian was holding me and spinning me, like when the last series of sharp curves would whip us around and around as we got closer to the ground, before stopping abruptly at the end. When he'd put me down from the spinning, it felt like Brian was lost in a kiss with me, oblivious to everything else.

He had to shake me hard, to get me out of my own head. When he asked what was with the dopey look on my face, I lied and told him it was just the constant exhilaration from the ride. If he didn't buy it, he never said. We just went to get some cotton candy, before standing in line to ride again. Who knew Brian would turn into a junk-food and adrenaline junkie, all in the same day?

Guess that's what he gets for hanging out with me. So now we're back in George and Malcolm's beach house, getting ready for whatever else he has planned for tonight. I've been hoping he would drop a hint or spill the secret all day, but Brian is being as tight-lipped as always. When he wants you to know, you know. But if he doesn't, not even the threat of tickle-torture will get him to sing!

I've been trying to guess, but the bottom line is, I have no clue what he's up to. I did hear him tell whoever he was talking to on the way back here that we would be on time for our next appointment- wherever the hell that is.

"Did you have fun today?" Gene asks me in french.

"I have to admit, I had an amazing time! Thank you for asking. Brian hasn't mentioned where we're going tonight, has he?"

He smiles at me. "I've already been warned about that innocent look of yours, Mr. Justin, and it won't work. I value my balls... and so does Alphonse. Mr. Brian has threatened the jewels, if we talk. But on a brighter note, we'll be your drivers tonight."

I leave it alone, because I honestly don't want Brian pissed off. Besides, although my curiosity is killing me, I know Brian. When he does something, he never does it halfway. Gene leads me to where my suit is hanging. I have to admit that it looks even more perfect than it did when I tried it on this morning.

I know he's altered it, but the Egyptian blue silk is fucking decadent. I know that Brian will absolutely love it! I run to the shower to wash the day's dirt off me, knowing that tonight there may not be time before Brian and I are finally in bed together. Today has been like a prolonged foreplay. Neither one of us is particularly patient, but he has been more than I am.

Every time I got close to fucking him, or urging him to let all his sudden inhibitions go, he stopped me. It's so tempting to just jerk off, while the soap and water cascades down my body. But like a fool, I promised him that I wouldn't. I've already broken enough promises to Brian. And although this one is a definite hardship, I'll wait.

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, I take care of the rest of my ablutions. I asked Gene to pick me up a bottle of Tommy Bahama for tonight. I like the scent a lot, and yes I am thinking that Brian will not be able to keep his nose out of my neck for the whole night. Gene also got me the lotion and aftershave, which I apply after taking care of my five o'clock shadow. Finally, it's time for me to put on my suit.

Looking at the crispness of the white shirt, I'm hoping that I can keep it absolutely spotless. It isn't everyday I get to wear a shirt, which cost more than all the tips I've ever made working at the diner. Some of my thoughts must have shown on my face, because Gene assures me that the entire suit, shirt included, have been scotch guarded. I know it seems a mundane thing to worry about, but to me it's quite important. Brian and I have fought over money and the amount he spends on me, more than once.

If I can have at least one less worry about it, then I will take it. I'm surprised- although I probably shouldn't be- when Gene fastens the sapphire cufflinks on my shirtsleeves. He tells me that they are a gift from George and Malcolm. I'm tempted to call them, and tell them to take them back. Like the clothes, I'll be worried about them all night, but Gene stops me.

"Accept the gift with good grace, youngster. This is a special night for them, too," Gene says.

"But..."

"No buts, Mr. Justin. Have I mentioned that I have been warned about you?" He raises his eyebrow in a Kinney-esque fashion, and I can't help but giggle.

"Oh alright. But will you please thank them for the loan. I will hand them over the minute I get to Pittsburgh."

Gene just shakes his head at me, before speaking. "Young Master Justin, you have to learn to let people do for you. What makes you think you are not worthy of such extravagance?"

"It's not that, Gene. I just like to earn it," I tell him, quietly.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, mon chere petit. You already have. You didn't see Mr. Brian's face when he came here to California. He was wound tight as- how do you say- a stringbow?"

"A bowstring," I answer and snicker. Instead of being offended, Gene laughs loudly.

"You all and your Americanisms! I still have much to learn, as does Alphonse. But my point is that, he was worried. He never said, but Alphonse and I could tell. With you here with him though, the light is back in his eyes. He is a different man than he was a mere two days ago. You did that for him."

I think about what he's saying, and I suppose he's right. I've often thought that I didn't give Brian anything, that what he'd given me was worth more than a million times what anyone else ever has. But apparently, I've given Brian something worth more than money... Well at least to him, it is. I've given Brian the freedom to be himself.

I guess when I look at it that way, my gift to him is priceless.

I'm finally finished dressing and peering into the mirror, and I have to admit Gene and I chose well. I look fucking HOT in this color. Everything about me, from the blond of my hair to the blue of my eyes does everything to make this suit pop. The artist in me catalogues this exact hue for future use, while the man I am can't wait to see Brian's reaction to it. Amazingly enough, Gene has found shoes the exact same color as my clothes, which somehow makes me look taller and leaner.

Yes, I'm slender, but not as lean as Brian is. But in this perfectly tailored suit, my usual stockiness in comparison has disappeared. The man is a miracle worker when it comes to clothes.

"You like, Mr. Justin?"

"I love it, Gene. Thank you. Brian's going to cream his pants when he sees me in this."

"He better not, or Alphonse will beat me the same color blue you're wearing."

We both laugh at the imagery of the slender and shorter man going against the human mack truck, standing a little off to the right, behind me. "I promise, I'll protect you, Gene. I'll have to, if Brian ever wants me to look like this again."

"I'll hold you to that, Justin."

We exit the room and as I descend the staircase, I spot my very own version of Prince Charming, pacing nervously at the bottom. I can tell the moment he becomes aware of my presence. His back is to me, but I see the automatic stiffening of his posture and then the subtle shift into his relaxed pose. His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath to gather himself. As he turns toward me, my breath catches in my throat.

I don't think I have ever seen Brian Kinney look so... So... Mouthwatering! The cream color silk suit fits him to perfection, while the bronze shirt and tie sets off his sparkling hazel eyes. Yes, I've seen him wear camel, and beige and brown; all of which I love him in.

But that fucking bronze color has me ready to jump his bones, in a way I never have.

"Down boy," Gene whispers into my ear, with a small chuckle behind the command.

"Sunshine," I hear Brian whisper, as his eyes drink me in from head-to-toe.

It's all I can do not to run down the stairs to him, at that sound of his awe and reverence. I smile at him, and hear his own breath hitch at the action, before he bestows me with an answering smile. "You look amazing, Brian."

"Not bad yourself, Sunshine. Not bad at all," he tells me as I finally make it down the staircase, to rest directly in front of him.

"We'll just go get the car," Alphonse tells us. "Mr. Brian, remember the rules." He calls back as he and Gene exit the house.

I lift my eyebrow in the unasked question. He rolls his eyes and tells me, "We have only five minutes to ‘bask in the glow of each other' as Alphonse puts it, before he comes back in here and drags us out by our ears. Oh, and we had better still be dressed, otherwise other unmentionable parts will be up for grabs."

I laugh. "Gene said something similar... about Alphonse, I mean."

"Oh? Why?"

"I was kinda sorta hoping that my appearance in this suit would make you cream in your pants," I tell him.

"You're damn fucking close, Twat. But Alphonse is a veritable pitbull; I'm not trying to be ball-less. I have a distinct and definite use for them... later."

I know the lust blazing in his eyes matches my own, and I'm hardpressed not to risk Alphonse's wrath for the immediate gratification of being in Brian's arms, having his cock drill me deeper than a rig digs for oil. All day, my body has been at the ready for a culmination that, as it stands right now, is hours away. "I guess we should go then..."

He bites his lip, before silently agreeing with me. Good thing too, since he just heard the patio door slide open.

"Ah-ha! Caught you!" Alphonse exclaims, as Brian and I turn to look at him.

"Yes, you bully. You caught us heading to the front door to leave," Brian says, his voice tinged with mock annoyance.

"Yes, well... From what I've heard of you two, one can never be too sure. Now come along Monsieurs, let's head away to your adventure. All is in readiness."

When we arrive outside, there is a white stretch Rolls Royce awaiting us. "What the hell happened to the car I ordered? Alphonse, this isn't the car," Brian gripes.

"Calm down, Mr. Brian. Upon the orders of Mr. George and Mr. Malcolm, they elected to have you use one of theirs for the evening. Gene and I picked it up from storage, while you were gone this morning. So accept the gift, and get in the car."

"See, Justin? I knew you two were a match," Gene calls out, standing in the doorway of the driver's seat.

"What is he talking about, Justin?" Brian asks me.

I wordlessly roll up my sleeve and show him the cufflinks. He smiles and then says, "Remind me never to look at anything in the presence of these two again. Somehow, everything I even thought about is just appearing out of thin air today."

"What are you talking about?"

He pulls up his sleeve to reveal a pair of chocolate diamond cufflinks as well. "Well if I didn't think of them as Fairy Godfathers before, I certainly do now," I say and whistle low.

"Well come on then, Cinderfella. It's time to go to the ball."

A HOPE GRANTED   

ARGENTO'S- MALIBU

BRIAN

It's funny that I never would have ever thought to do this, before George suggested it. Justin is a total foodie. The fact that he can eat like the activity will be outlawed in an hour, and still keep his twink physique, is as fascinating as it is unfair. So, that said, when I was trying to order ahead, which according to George is how this restaurant operates on a daily basis, he suggested that I order the sampler. Since this Argento's specializes in two of Justin's favorite cuisines, both Italian and Spanish, it seemed the most prudent thing to do.

This is after all, a date of decadence, and Justin shouldn't have to be deprived of anything for one choice over another.

As I requested, Justin and I were seated in an intimate corner of the restaurant, nearest the dancefloor with a clear view of the setting sun outside. I knew the other part of Justin's surprise was going to start soon, so it helped that upon our arrival, our food was almost immediately being served. Our meal started with appetizing soups of Potato and Spinach Gnocci and another bowl of Pasta Fazool. Amazingly, each of these had the right amount of spice and richness, so that the sauces of each seemed lush without being overbearing. I think I may have seen Justin's eyes roll back in his head a few times as he moved seamlessly between the two dishes.

I almost laugh aloud at the little moan, which escapes him every time he takes a spoonful, thinking what would the WASPy Mother Taylor think of her baby boy having several mini-orgasms, while dining in public. He stops midway to his mouth, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What?" he asks.

"Enjoying the food?" I can't help the smirk that I'm sure is gracing my lips.

"Very much so."

"I know."

"Oh really? How?"

"Justin, we've lived together. I can always tell when you're indulging in two of the things that bring you the most pleasure. Since you aren't blowing me under this table right now, the little moans, groans, and gasps can only mean that you are satisfying that oral fixation you have in another way."

Justin puts down his spoon with this dreamy expression on his face. "I swear, Brian... I can certainly understand why you are considered one of the best ad men in the business. Your words provide such vivid images in your audience's mind."

"Does that mean you are willing to be my captive audience?"

"I was captivated the moment I saw you... and fascinated the moment we met; that hasn't changed."

"Sure, it has."

"How do you figure?"

"I'd like to think my allure has grown since then."

He smiles at me then. "You have no idea just how much it has."

Both Justin and I exchange smiles then, knowing that even at this moment in time, we are the subject of speculation, innuendo, and curiosity. It is ever thus wherever we go out together. For me, it's just natural, but sometimes it makes Justin a little uncomfortable. Not tonight, though. Tonight, he's welcoming the attention.

I guess it helps that I am completely focused on him, and he knows it. He's receiving something not even my clients get when I know there is a multi-million dollar deal on the table. Justin is getting all of me. Not the me that everyone else sees. But the one, he's always suspected I've kept hidden.

Before the next round of dinner will be served, we are treated to one act from the Dancesport Exhibition. One of the men doing the Argentine Tango looks familiar, and not in a positive life-affirming way. Justin must notice my regard as he turns to me with narrowed eyes, which become wide a second later.

"What is Dijon doing on the dancefloor? I thought he was a flight attendant."

"He is and..."

"A first class fuck? I know, since I've had him before," Justin tells me.

I frown at that, trying to remember the time we've fucked Dijon together. Oh fuck, we haven't! I look over at him, and I can tell by that secret little smirk he has on his face that he has figured out what I was doing. His look transforms to sultry, and he does that slow blink I absolutely love. "So... when did you fuck him?"

I could see him debating with himself, whether to tell me or not. "The night you told me that it was my choice where I wanted to be."

"I thought you went to Ian that night."

"I did."

"So how did you end up with Dijon?"

"Ethan and I had a disagreement, so I left. I went to Woody's to think, to calm down, and try to dissect my life that was already falling apart. He was nice to me." He shrugs, as if it was no big deal. And maybe under the circumstances at the time, it wasn't. But now...

"So does that mean if Emmett was there and nice to you, you would have fucked him, too?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You don't fuck your friends."

"And that youngster, is where you fucked up."

He smiles at me and raises his glass in acknowledgment, but says nothing. I know that he knows it's where he went wrong with Ethan, and the core reason why the fiddler was able to keep Justin confused. There is a line there- a fine line- that should never be crossed. It's why, no matter how much I may have fooled around with Michael, both during our formative years and later, I would never cross that line with him. Well that, and the fact that I just could never want him like that.

Em is the only one I have crossed it with, but that was before we actually became friends; same as Justin. They were both only supposed to be one-night stands, and both have turned out to be my best friends. I stop to think about that for a moment. Justin's my best friend? Yeah, I suppose he is.

He's been there with the most sound advice- not just what I wanted to hear, but what I needed to hear- so many times. Especially more than Michael, and much, much more than Lindsay, which is amazing in a way since I have known him less time than the other two. What's more is that he's always given it with my best interests at heart, and without any hidden agenda. That realization sheds an entirely different light on this new beginning. I actually think that I'm seeing who Justin really is, clearly, for the very first time.

And yeah, I definitely like what I see.

"What are you thinking?" he asks me.

Before I get a chance to answer, we are interrupted by a subtle clearing of a throat and the view of a pair of long muscular legs standing in our seated view. Justin's eyes meet mine across the expanse of a very nice bulge, which is at eye-level. His eyes travel upward first, and I can tell that his breath has caught in his throat when he views the owner of said nice bulge. I laugh when my eyes come to rest on the owner as well.

"Hey, shouldn't you be on the floor, dancing? Don't tell me you left your partner to come over here and interrupt us."

I've always found the deep booming laughter engaging, considering his speaking voice is actually a high tenor. "No, I shouldn't be dancing unless it's between you two in a manwich in the middle of Babylon. But alas, I'm here doing my familial duty."

"What do you mean, Dijon? Brian and I distinctly saw you dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Was that the Argentine Tango?"

Dijon smiles at Justin, a twinkle in his light brown eyes. "That was indeed the Argentine Tango that Damien was performing. He's the dancer in the family."

"Damien?"

"Damien St. Charles is my twin brother, and a DanceSport Ten Dance Champion. I'm but a lowly flight attendant." He sighs dramatically.

"Lowly my ass, Jon," a voice that sounds remarkably like Dijon's belts out. Justin and I both have to do double takes because as much as they look alike when they are apart, is as much as they do when we are faced with them side-by-side. "If it wasn't for you, half of us would never be able to travel in the luxury you afford us when we're traveling for competitions and exhibitions like this one."

Dijon blushed, but brushed the compliment off. Turning back to us, he says, "What are you two doing here in Cali? Getting back together, I hope?"

Both Justin and I didn't know how to answer that, but we were saved- for a few moments at least- by the questioning from Damien to Dijon.

"So this is the infamous duo of Liberty Avenue you've told me so much about?"

"In the flesh, Damien. Brian and Justin's exploits on Liberty and beyond is the stuff of legends. So was their very public breakup." He looks sideways at the two of us again, before turning fully.

"It wasn't a breakup per se..." I begin, only to be cut off by a very large palm.

"Yes, it was. Deny it all you'd like, Kinney. But you were in the dreaded ‘R' word with the little blond dynamo here. Although not many were happy about it, I was! No matter how much you would love to cover the fact that you have a heart, you definitely do. Remember the night you put me in a cab after snatching my keys, because of the shit I took from Anita? You saved my life that night."

"Well having you drugged and drunk on the road was not only bad for unsuspecting people, but bad for Babylon's business as well."

He laughs at my attempt to disregard his claim that I'm some sort of hero to him. "Whatever the reason was, I owe you a shitload of thanks. And unlike some people, I only want your happiness. Although others were willfully blind, I was not; Justin made you happy, whether you acknowledged it or not. And as for you Justin, I hope that the disastrous little episode called Ethan is officially over?"

"Not exactly," Justin answers in a voice so small, he sounds thoroughly chastened. I don't even think I've heard him at first, until Dijon speaks again.

"Well he should be! All is not what it seems with that little rat, who should have been introduced to a bath and a comb long since."

"Dij..." Damien interrupts, but the tall queen stops him.

"No, Damien. Justin should know... but okay, tonight is not that night."

"What should I know?" Justin asks, and I can't deny my own curiosity at the question.

"The next time I'm in the Pitts, I'll make it a point to invite you to lunch so I can tell you what I know. But for now, young Stud, I think you need to take care of the seasoned Vet here. I just came over to say hi and to tell you both that it was good to see you together again. Oh, and don't worry.... I won't even tell Em that I saw you two. I know that some would never be happy to see or hear that you two are sharing the same air again, let alone whatever else you may be sharing later," he says, the innuendo evident in his voice.

Justin and I breath a sigh of relief at that. It wasn't that we were ashamed of each other; we just aren't ready for the scrutiny again. I know that soon we are going to have to talk about how to handle everything when we go back to the Pitts. But for right now, we are both just going to enjoy our time together, family-and-friend-free. The clearing of Damien's throat brings me out of my brief reverie.

"Dijon, it looks like our table is filling up, and the next couple should be ready to dance soon. See? Look, there's Ramone and Adrien."

"You're back with Ramone?" Justin asks.

"Yeah, even though he can be a bigger dick than the one he has, I still love the idiot," Dijon answers Justin, with what sounds like both weariness and wistfulness in his voice. I recognize the inflection because I've had it many times over the last four months, whenever I thought or talked about Justin.

I don't know what compelled me to reach out and touch Dijon on the shoulder, but I do. Feeling my gentle squeeze of understanding, he looks me in the eye and nods slightly in acknowledgement. He and Damien moved off as Justin and I retook our seats, heads turning as they passed each table. Looks like Justin and I weren't the only ones mesmerized by the sight of the identical twins with the light brown eyes.

"I can tell them apart. I'll bet you can't," Justin teases.

"Bullshit. But how?" I refuse to admit that I can't.

Justin smirks at me, knowing without me saying anything that for a change, my penchant for observing people has been stunned to a standstill for the moment.

"They both have dimples."

"That's true for Dijon. He has two twin dimples at the small of his back. I noticed them when I took him from behind."

Justin snickers in response. "I know that, but there are also dimples on their faces. Dijon's is on the left and Damien's is on the right." Just then both of them smiled and I wanted to pop Justin upside the head for the smug look on his face.

"Well you should notice that, since you are an artist, after all."

"And you probably would have noticed, if you weren't picturing the three of us in bed naked."

I burst out laughing; I can't help it. Justin has always been onto me when it comes to my penchant for undressing my prey with my eyes, even during the most mundane of tasks, including conversations, no matter how pointless. "I will not deny that the three of you would make one helluva human ice cream sandwich."

"You're such a perv..."

"And you would have me no other way."

Before he can respond, we are interrupted again and automatically I feel my hackles rise. Fuck! It's going to be a long night.

A WISH FULFILLED

CONNOR

Brett tried to warn me that this was a potentially bad idea, but I can't see that it is. Justin Taylor is a beautiful man, one that I would really like to get to know personally, in bed and out of it. I won't deny that when I saw him at the last few parties, I was tempted to approach him then, but I got a strange vibe from him. It was a little closed off, and yet he looked open to certain possibilities. I was hoping to change his mind over time, but seeing him sitting at the table across the room with a sexy stranger has sped up my timetable to woo him softly.

I didn't get where I am in life by being soft or timid, and although I don't know who that man sitting with Justin is, I suspect he is just as aggressive as I intend on being. I drag Brett along with me for two reasons: one is to make a formal introduction and two is to distract the stranger.

"Justin, it's good to see you again," Brett begins the conversation as we finally traverse the sea of humanity to stand in front of the gorgeous duo. I can't deny that the stranger looks even more tasty close up, but I suspect he's a top and that no matter how much money and connections I offer him, he would never bend to me. Now Justin, on the other hand...

"It's nice to see you as well, Brett," Justin responds in kind. "Are you and Connor enjoying the show?"

"I was enjoying it, but I think I'm enjoying the view from over here more," I tell him, capturing his eyes. I love the blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"That's nice of you to say, Connor. I'd like to introduce you to my companion, Brian Kinney, CEO of Kinnetik Enterprises. Brian, I'm sure you know who Brett Keller and Connor James are."

"Not particularly," the smoky-raspy voice proclaims with a touch of... is that disdain?

"Brian... the man behind ‘Rage,' I thought that was you. You're looking well."

"Of course I am, but how have you been, Brett?"

"Fine....just fine. I'd be even better if I could convince Justin to give the go-ahead to start pitch and production on the comic book. Connor, here, is interested in playing the lead character."

That was the opening I was looking for to regain Justin's attention. "So Justin, how about it? I'll bet I would look hot in the skintight costume of the superhero."

"I'm sure you would, Connor. But the co-creator of the comic and I are having a bit of... creative differences."

"Besides, aren't you a little old to play Rage," this Brian character states.

"Well you're mature, at least in comparison to Justin, so what's wrong with him trading up?" I was certainly not going to let him get away with that old remark, without a scathing retort of my own. Brett interrupted whatever Justin was about to say, and effectively closed off Justin from Brian's view, as I waited for Brian Kinney to acknowledge my insult and agree to clear my path to Justin. I couldn't resist saying more, in a voice that bespoke of a certain knowledge about the little blond being entertained by Bretty. "You think you can satisfy that little wildcat in bed, or out of it? Come on, Kinney, I know your type. You look at Justin, and think he's easy. I did too at first, but you aren't going to be able to keep him in style. I can show him the world, things he's only dreamed of seeing and then at night, I can fuck him so hard and so long that he wouldn't even remember his own name- let alone yours. Why don't you save your breath and stop wasting his time, and your own? He'd be much better off with someone like me, rather than a heartless bastard like you."

I think my words are getting through to him, as he sits back in the chair. I can see each of my accusations of his character turning over in his mind, as he mulls over how he feels about them. I can tell when he's made a decision to respond, but I didn't expect said response to begin with a small suppressed snicker, or the sardonic smirk which followed it. Again his voice shivered through me, reminding me of smoke-filled nights and palpable sensuality, but I put that to the side to really listen to what he was saying.

"The difference is, that unlike Rage, I'm here in the flesh with one of the most amazing men in creation. I don't have to pretend to be an integral part of his story- OUR story- because I live it every single day I'm with him. If Justin decides to let you play dress-up in my character, you will always be but a passing thought. He would never think of you at all. Besides..." he leans towards me, looking me straight in the eyes, "Justin only bottoms for the real Rage, so if that's what your interests in him is, you're wasting your time. But hey, feel free to continue to do so. I'm at least being nice in telling you to fuck off gently. Justin has no such compunction, or tact for all that he looks like an angel. As a matter of fact, I think it's time that I took my little Beelzebub to the dancefloor."

He stands up and it's then that I get a really good look at the man, who would be my nemesis. Tall and lean, Brian Kinney smells of Armani Code- the cologne I just did a photo spread for- with a hint of sex surrounding him. The pheromones just pour off the man, acting like a beacon beckoning his target without even trying. I wonder if it's that way for him all the time, even as I watch him approach the other side of the table where Justin is still sitting speaking with Brett. Without looking directly at Brian, it's almost as if his body detects when the older man is within his reach.

Justin extends the hand that just moments ago, was wrapped around his wineglass and draws Brian close to him to stand in between him and Brett. Brian leans into him, whispering in Justin's ear. Whatever it was he must have said to elicit the brightest smile I have ever seen on anyone, causes my own breath to catch. I noticed the same reaction in Brett, who now stood there with a bemused expression on his face. After Justin promised Brett that they would catch up again soon, the couple moves off towards the dancefloor where a romantic song in spanish is playing.

I understand the words, and by the way Brian and Justin are looking at each other, it's clear they do as well, which just makes my blood boil. I mean seriously, what does that guy have that I don't? I have fame, fortune, and a future that could really include Justin, if he would just give me a chance. The fucking would also be awesome. Justin's ass is made to caress and grip a cock.

Suddenly I can't help the surge of envy aimed at Brian Kinney, knowing that Justin's tight tunnel only accepted the notably well-endowed cock of the brunet. The silk slacks do absolutely nothing to cover either one of the bulges in their pants, even while they are dancing close together. They look fucking HOT together. But more than that, the affection they feel for each other reaches beyond the dancefloor and covers everyone in the vicinity. Even I can't help but be affected by it.

This is the one time I can honestly say that having a front-row seat is a distinct disadvantage.

As I continue to sit here in awe, and stewing in my jealousy while watching Justin being twirled, and then pulled hard against the real-life Rage's chest, it's just now starting to really register that something big is happening between them. Between the song, "Refugio de Amor," and the movements, which seem as if they've danced this particular dance a million times the air is charged with an anticipation that it's impossible not to feel... An expectation I know intuitively will increase my envy of Brian Kinney on many more levels, than just having Justin in his arms. I watch as he places a single kiss on Justin's full lips, only to pull back and make eye contact with the blond, before moving in again. It is quite possibly the sweetest, the most erotic, and the most undeniably powerful thing I have ever witnessed between anyone, gay or straight.

What I don't get is the gasp emitting from Justin, and the look of shock. Nor do I understand the lone tear, making its way slowly down his cheek from the left corner of eyes, whose gaze never wavered from Brian's.

"Oh my God, Brian... I remember," he says, and I have to wonder what they are talking about. But based on the look of elation and fear on Brian's face, I know that Justin remembering whatever it is, is momentous in their lives. And whereas we're all spectators at this moment, it still feels as intimate as if they are sharing some deeply-guarded secret.

"Are you sure?" Brian asks him, folding his lips in, awaiting Justin's response.

Justin nods. "Yeah, and you were right. It was ridiculously romantic."

Brian grabs Justin to him, kissing him for all they're worth. It seems to have gone on and on, until finally they needed to pull back due to the need for oxygen. But instead of moving away or pretending like nothing happened, which is what I would have expected from the hardened and closed off man Brian Kinney seems to be, he brings his forehead down to Justin as they both close their eyes again. Somehow, this action on their parts seems even more intimate than the sweet kisses. Or even the torrid one, everyone in the room just witnessed.

I ask Dijon, who seems to be in the know about the couple dominating the middle of the dance floor, what the big deal is. To say that I am completely shocked by his answer, and the tears in his eyes would be an understatement. I mean the man is 6' 5" and muscular to a degree without being grotesque, despite his voice being rather high pitched. He looks as straight as I am, or better yet as the world thinks I am when I'm on the red carpet. Why the fuck is he crying?

"He's finally home; he remembers," he said, as if that should explain everything.

"What? He remembers what?"

"Don't you know the story of Justin Taylor?"

"No. There's a story? I just thought he was a hot piece of ass, I might pursue." If the look he gave me could kill, I would be bleeding, dead, and stinking by now. I ignored it, because I am genuinely curious. "So what is the deal with him?"

He huffs out an exasperated breath. "Quite obviously, you've read Rage..."

"Yeah. If Justin agrees to it, then we're going to try to make it into a movie. What about it?"

"The ‘JT' character is Justin Taylor." Once again, I'm a bit confused, so I look for him to continue. "The first issue of Rage- The Bashing- is Justin's personal story. He was bashed by a fellow student at his high school prom, which he attended with Brian. He lost a good portion of his memories leading up to two weeks before the prom, and including that night. Originally, Justin asked Brian to the prom and he said no, and told him to find someone his own age. So Brian showing up to Justin's prom was not only a surprise to everyone there, but to Justin as well. Of course, he would have wanted to remember it, since the Stud of Liberty Avenue all but proclaimed to those assembled that Justin Taylor was his. Brian Kinney would never have done that before... But he did it for Justin. And he's doing it again now." Dijon continues to impart information regarding Brian and Justin's reputation, especially telling me that Justin only bottoms for Brian, and that they both are world class fucks. "They fight together, they fuck together, and they kick ass together. I feel sorry for the fuckers, who dared to try to break them up for good. Now that Justin has ALL of his memories back, there's going to be some serious hell to pay. Justin is two things, that looking at him you would never expect."

"Oh yeah. What's that?"

"He's extremely intelligent. But as nice as Justin is, if he gets angry, he can be as mean or meaner than the man currently holding him. And Brian Kinney can be pretty fucking vindictive when crossed. That's the other thing no one would expect about Justin Taylor. For all his angelic looks, the boy could probably wield a pitchfork better than Satan himself, and would give a dazzling smile while doing it. You would probably do well to remember that, Connor."

I look over at the couple, understanding so much more about Brian's protectiveness and possessiveness towards Justin now. The chemistry between the breathtakingly stunning couple is powerful, and blinding in its intensity. All I can do is mourn the loss of Justin, even as I hope that he has, once again, found himself and his happiness in the man whose forehead is still pressed against his. I suspect that now that Justin has his memories back, Dijon is right. Someone is going to have hell coming for them in the form of a seemingly innocent looking blond with a vicious temper.

Worse yet, they- whoever they are- won't even see him coming.

Give Me The Reason- Luther Vandross

Lyrics:

What's there to say, there's not much to talk about

And whatever happened to all of the love that we vowed

Yes, it's true/ And there's nothing new/ You can say

Give me the reason to want you back/ Why should I love you again

Do you know, tell me how/ How to forgive and forget

Give me the reason to love you now/ It's been a mighty long time

And the love that used to be/ Ended the day you walked out

Never knew I'd ever be/ Standing alone and outside

With no one to love

I was secure and so glad there was you to love

What in the world would I ever do without us

But it's getting clear/ That I have to get over you

Give me the reason to want you back/ Why should I love you again

Do you know, tell me how/ How to forgive and forget

Give me the reason to love you now/ It's been a mighty long time

And the love that used to be/ Ended the day you walked out

Songwriters: Luther Vandross / Nat / Jr Adderley

Give Me the Reason lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Gopam Enterprises Inc

Melanie

Ben and I have developed a routine of sorts. While Brian is out of town, he's been helping out with Gus. Although I have been leaving the office early, Ben picks Gus up from Dusty for me and meets me at the house. If I have to spend a bit more time working from home, he hangs around and grades papers or chills out with Gus. I've told him that he doesn't have to, but he just waves me away, telling me to let the boys do their thing and go be brilliant.

As a result, Gus doesn't seem to miss Lindsay at all, which is what I initially feared would happen when all of this drama began.

Consequently though, I spent last night almost wishing her greedy ass was still around. Gus is teething, and to say he isn't happy would be the understatement of the year. If one looks closely, his two bottom teeth are just this side of visible and honestly I can't wait for the little fuckers to make their appearance so that just maybe I can get some sleep while it's still dark outside. But all in all, I'd say that Gus and I are doing pretty alright. I haven't killed him and he hasn't given me innumerable gray hairs or driven me completely insane.

But the day is still young.

Another thing that has been annoying me to no end is Lindsay's phone, which has been ringing off the hook since yesterday. Even as I lay here at just after nine in the morning, the offending electro-leash is ringing again. I debate with myself about answering before deciding to put me and the annoying bastard calling out of both our miseries. Before I even have a chance to say ‘Hello' the caller is frantically telling me his problem.

"My fucking God, you finally answer your goddamn phone! Lindsay, it's Ethan. The police just left here, asking what I know about the situation regarding Justin's car. You have to help me!"

What the actual fuck?! What... I decide to just play along, until I can find out exactly what he knows and how the harridan fits into this. I mean seriously, why would Ethan Gold be calling Lindsay when we all know that Justin is out of town indefinitely... Well at least, until Friday night?

Adopting that supercilious tone Lindsay is known for, I ask, "Ethan? What the hell are you calling me for?"

"Oh my God, haven't you been listening to a damn word I said?!"

"Perhaps if you calmed yourself and spoke succinctly instead of the jumbled bullshit you're spouting, I would have understood you the first time. So... what's the problem?"

The sound of his inhale and exhale annoys me to no end. It reminds me uncomfortably of Michael, when he's being called on his shit. It's nasally and wheezy, all at the same time! I suddenly have a new respect for Justin. Having to hear breathing which is reminding me of a whiny mosquito would drive me fucking bonkers, let alone his voice.

It's always reminded me of what Michael would sound like if he was born WASP. Yikes!

"Look... Lindsay, the police were by my place this morning, asking what I know about Justin's car."

"And do you know something about it?"

"You know damn fucking well that I do! And so do you! Don't you remember that you told me to talk Justin into getting rid of the car? Well the more I thought about it, the more I didn't want to fight with Justin about it..."

"So you took matters into your own hands? Is that what you're saying? Are you telling me that he ended up in the hospital, because of your actions that night?" It's taking everything in me to keep playing the part of Lindsay, when all I really want to do is yell at this little asshole.

"Lindsay, you know this already. Why are we rehashing it?! You and Michael told me that if I didn't get Justin to go away with me the minute he got back into town, that you both were going to go to the cops about the ten grand and the car. It's a good thing that the five grand is mine to keep, since I think I'm going to need a lawyer. You think your wife could help me out?"

"No, she can't."

"Why the fuck not?!"

"Because she's Justin's attorney. So no, Ethan, she's not going to defend your actions, especially when she cares a great deal about him. Your best option right now is to own up to your crime."

"I didn't commit a crime. What I did was done out of love!"

I'm thoroughly appalled that this fucker thinks scaring the hell out of Justin, and sending him into a panic attack of epic proportions, in any way remotely displays love. "Ethan... Ethan, what you did was selfish! It was not done because you love Justin. But if you really do love Justin, go to the police and tell them what you did to his car. If they have to come and get you, it will be worse."

"What are you saying, Lindsay?"

I've officially had enough of this little turd, and playing the Lying Lindsay game with him. I can't believe that bitch and Michael!! To involve this young boy in their schemes... But he certainly isn't innocent, either. "Wait, ten grand? What did you use the money for? Have you spent any of it yet?"

"No. That's the money for me and Justin, remember? The money Michael gave me is to help Justin and I make a new start."

"How are you going to do that when he has no intention of leaving with you?"