Close to Home II

+ One +

Brian hit the icon for his e-mail. The computer screen changed and he scanned down the list of e-mails. That was when he spotted it. An e-mail from BB, just what he was looking for. He couldn't keep the smile off his face as he clicked the mouse and the message came up.

"Hey, PP, I've been up for hours. Why haven't I heard from you? BB"

Brian grinned. He had known Justin for a little over three weeks and he was beginning to find out how different they were. Brian rose at the crack of dawn and began the day with his exercises that kept the upper half of his body in tip top shape and his useless lower half as flexible and firm as possible. Justin, on the other hand, tended to get up around noon and spent the daylight time painting and the wee small hours of the morning on the computer. Brian was often up in those wee small hours, but that was because he couldn't sleep. Lately they had been spending those hours together, and occasionally the whole night.

And that's where the problem arose. If Justin stayed the night, Brian invariably woke his lover when he arose to do his exercises. The loft wasn't exactly conducive to privacy or quiet. Even with the glass partitions closed Brian's activities would awaken Justin who was nothing if not grumpy when he was forced to get up too early.

They had reached a kind of compromise. Justin would come up from his loft to play late in the evening. When they were through he would reluctantly drag himself out of Brian's bed and go down to sleep in his own. Brian had learned to love sleeping with Justin and always felt slightly abandoned when the blond got up to leave. However, there seemed to be no other reasonable solution.

They would e-mail when they were ready to get together. They could have called on the phone but the e-mails were homage to how they had first met over the internet. It worked for them. Usually some time after lunch Brian would check his e-mails and find one from Justin. Sometimes he would not receive the expected e-mail and would send one of his own. Often it was returned with a bit of an apology and an explanation that Justin had been struck with an idea and was painting, or he had an appointment that he had forgotten about, or he was busy with something else.

They made it policy to always have dinner together whenever possible. They enjoyed eating together, going over what had happened during their days and spending time with each other. Sometimes circumstances kept them apart, but most nights they cooked together in Brian's loft. Justin did most of the cooking, but Brian helped and was actually reasonably proficient in the kitchen if he wanted to be.

One night as they sat eating the roast chicken that Justin had prepared a thought struck Justin.

"Brian," he began, "do you have any friends?"

"Does that seem so fucking impossible to you?" Brian demanded. Justin waited. He had quickly learned that Brian's reaction to unexpected situations or questions was a sarcastic retort. After a long pause where Brian seemed to be thinking about his answer, he finally said, "I used to."

"But not anymore?" Justin wondered aloud.

Brian shook his head.

"What happened?" Justin asked.

"The fucking wheelchair happened," Brian said dropping his fork with a clatter. "What the fuck do you think?" The disgust was clear in his voice and in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Justin said softly. "I … I just wondered."

"Do you have any friends?" Brian demanded. There was a cruel edge to his voice.

Justin wished he had never brought this up, but it was too late to go back. "Yes, I do."

"Like who?" Brian demanded.

"My best friend is Daphne."

"How come I've never met her?"

"She's a resident at Pittsburgh General Hospital. She doesn't have a lot of free time."

"Oh," Brian said calming down a little.

"Did you have a best friend?" Justin asked calmly. He really wanted to know. He hated the thought of Brian locked away in the loft never seeing anyone from the outside world. If Brian did have a best friend, Justin wondered how that person could have abandoned the man in his time of need. Justin knew Daphne would never do that to him.

"Yes," Brian almost whispered.

"Did he come to see you after the accident?"

"Do we have to talk about this?" Brian asked with a sigh.

"No, we don't have to. I just wanted to know. I wondered where he or she is."

"It's a 'he'. Michael Novotny," Brian said shaking his head like it hurt to remember. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about Michael, wasn't sure that he could. But he also knew that Justin cared about him and asked because he wanted to know, not to criticize or preach. For some reason he felt obligated to answer. Brian took a deep breath and plowed ahead. "After … after the accident … I didn't want to see anybody. I … I didn't want anybody to see me."

"I can understand that," Justin said. He could only imagine how it must have been for someone as gorgeous as Brian to suddenly be half the person he used to be. That must have been how Brian would have looked at it. He wouldn't want others pitying him or giving him false encouragement. He wondered how soon Brian had been told that he would never walk again. He must have had hope that he would walk again, at least at first.

Brian studied Justin. He knew that the young man didn't really understand what it had been like, didn't understand how his life had been ripped away from him in a split second. That car crossing into his lane and slamming into the Jeep should have killed him. Sometimes he wished that it had. But somehow he had survived even as the crippled creature that he now was.

"Brian," Justin said softly.

He heard Justin say his name and it pulled him back from the morbid thoughts that still assaulted him all too often.

"I'm here," Brian said letting out a long, slow breath. "I drove them all away," he added suddenly.

"What?" Justin asked not sure that he had heard correctly.

"I drove all my friends away. I refused to talk to them. I told the nurses to keep them out or I wouldn't cooperate with my rehab."

"But rehab must have been much later," Justin said trying to understand.

"It was. I put up with their cards and flowers and well wishes and fucking plastered on smiles and cheerful attitudes until I couldn't stand it another second. I knew if I had to make nice with one more of them I would start screaming hysterically. So … I told the nurses that I would not have anymore visitors for any reason. At first they didn't believe me, the nurses or my friends. They all thought I would relent and allow visitors after a while, but I knew that I was doomed to be alone."

"Doomed?" Justin asked. "Didn't you just say that it was your choice?"

"I just gave them the out they had been looking for," Brian said ruefully.

"How could you know that?"

"I was … am a fucking cripple. Who'd want to be around me?" Brian's voice was filled with bitterness.

"Me," Justin said simply. Brian looked up into that face full of acceptance and love. "I don't think you should have made that decision for them."

"Well, it's too late now. The decision was made and I don't have any friends … anymore."

"What about Cynthia?"

"Cynthia works for me … or for Ryder. She's not a friend."

"It sure seemed like she was your friend when…" Justin stopped. He didn't want to remind Brian of his aborted attempt at suicide. He and Cynthia had rescued Brian.

Brian looked over at Justin. He knew all too well what Justin was referring to. He knew it had been a stupid and useless attempt when he was at a very low point. He refused to dwell on it. "Cynthia is an employee," Brian stated. "She merely did what was best for the company."

Justin laughed out loud.

"What?" Brian asked.

"You are such a fucking enigma!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know that Cynthia saved you from … yourself," Justin said not wanting to use the word suicide. "You thought so little of yourself at that point, and now, you're telling me that you're the best thing that ever happened to your advertising firm. How can it be both ways?"

Brian smirked. "Nobody is better than me at advertising." Then his eyes turned dark. "Nobody used to be better than me at picking up tricks … and fucking. But now…"

"Nobody's better than you now … at fucking, I mean," Justin grinned.

"Thanks for the compliment," Brian said sticking his tongue in his cheek with that skeptical look he wore so often. "But since you do most of the work when we're fucking, I'd have to say that nobody's better than you."

"Compliment accepted," Justin said with a big grin. "But it is a two way street."

"Yeah, and lately I seem to be on the receiving end of that street."

"Are you complaining?"

"Not really," Brian said thoughtfully. "But it's not something I ever thought I would be doing … so regularly. Just another example of…" Brian didn't finish that statement.

"… of how things have changed. Change isn't always a bad thing, you know," Justin said philosophically.

"Yes, Aristotle."

"What does change have to do with Aristotle?" Justin asked.

"I don't know. I was just trying to think of a fucking philosopher, since that's how you sounded." Brian looked thoughtful. "Didn't he write about the four basic elements? And then in the Middle Ages the scientists spent all their energy on alchemy trying to transmute elements from one thing to another."

"Lead to gold?"

"Yeah. See, you can make a connection between anything."

"Six degrees of Kevin Bacon?" Justin asked with an evil grin.

Brian chuckled. "You know, your mind is almost as weird as mine. It's what makes for interesting advertising … taking unrelated ideas and making them come together in a new way. It's the basis of humor too."

"I learn something every day that I hang around you," Justin grinned.

"Twat. You knew that already."

Justin nodded. "I didn't get 1500 on my SAT's for nothing."

"Fifteen fucking hundred!"

"That's right," Justin gloated. He knew very few people could match that achievement. "What did you get?"

"Never mind," Brian replied.

"I guess I can let that one go," Justin said knowing that Brian probably got less, not that Brian wasn't incredibly smart.

"How charitable of you!" Brian retorted.

"I'm sorry I even mentioned it."

"So am I."

"Brian?"

"It's … all right. Now I know what I'm up against."

"You're not up against anything. I wasn't bragging. Honestly! It just came out."

Brian chuckled. "You're so gullible. I'm not mad or jealous or anything…" Brian got a mischievous glint in his eye. "In fact, if you're a very bad boy I might tell you what my SAT score was."

"Do I want to know?" Justin asked not sure what to make of this turn of events. It couldn't possibly be that Brian had a better score, could it? "You don't have to tell. It doesn't matter anyway."

"Right," Brian agreed but that little smirk was still evident.

"So, do you want to watch a movie or something?" Justin asked standing up and gathering the dishes they were done with.

"I guess…" Brian said.

"Sounds like you'd rather do something else," Justin observed loading the dishwasher.

"I'd kind of like to see a new movie," Brian admitted.

"You mean one we can rent? Which one?"

"No …" Brian said slowly. "I mean a movie at a movie theater."

"You do?" Justin asked staring over at Brian.

"Yes, I do."

"And just what movie would this be?"

"Shall We Dance."

"Isn't that the new Richard Gere movie?"

"That's the one."

"It's about dancing or something, isn't it?" Justin asked wondering why Brian would want to see something like that.

"What was your first clue?" Brian asked with a smirk.

Justin stuck out his tongue at him. "So you want to go out to see this movie?"

"Yeah."

"My, aren't we getting adventurous!" Justin teased, although he was very glad to hear that Brian wanted to get out of the loft.

"I wouldn't do this for just anybody."

Justin smiled. "I'm glad you feel confident enough with me to try it," Justin said.

"It's not for you. It's for Richard Gere," Brian smirked.

"Well, shit!" Justin reacted.

"And you too," Brian chuckled softening his answer.

"I didn't know you were a Richard Gere fan," Justin said.

"What's not to like? He's gawgeous, to quote a friend of mine," Brian said playfully.

"Who's the friend?"

"Um …" Brian hesitated. He had already told Justin about Michael. He wasn't sure he wanted to start talking about Emmett. "His name's Emmett."

"I didn't know you liked older guys," Justin replied.

"Emmett's not older," Brian said with a frown.

"I meant Richard Gere," Justin said filing away Emmett's name for future reference. "He is pretty cute, even with that grey hair. And there were all those rumors about him being gay."

Brian smirked. "Probably true too," Brian said.

"Isn't he married with a couple of kids now?" Justin asked.

"And your point would be…?"

"Um, nothing. Let's look on the internet and see where the movie is playing," Justin said.

"And if it's wheelchair accessible," Brian added. He hated having to think about that, but it was a reality of his life.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When they returned from the movie some time later, Justin was tangoing all the way up in the elevator.

"Dance with me, Brian?" Justin asked as they entered the loft.

"I can't dance in this contraption," Brian grimaced.

"Sure you can."

Justin took Brian's hand and led him into the middle of the loft. He held Brian's hand as he twirled and moved around. Gradually Brian got the drift of what Justin was doing. He began to turn and move the chair in sync with Justin's movements. Justin went over to the stereo and put on one of Brian's old CD's. Some group began singing "Save the Last Dance for Me". Justin began moving to the beat of the music and Brian followed along. They moved flawlessly in the middle of the loft. As the song drew to a close, Justin twirled around and landed in Brian's lap leaning back across the chair.

He started giggling as Brian leaned over to rub his lips against Justin's. Soon the kiss deepened and Justin sat up so he could get more purchase against Brian's body. They kissed and kissed until they were both panting and hard.

"Want to fuck in the chair?" Justin gasped. "Just like the first time."

Brian nodded trying to catch his breath. Kissing Justin was a workout in itself. He wanted to suck the boy totally into his mouth and Justin seemed to devour Brian's mouth with such fervor that neither ever wanted to stop.

"Get undressed, my darling dancing partner," Justin giggled.

"Bossy," Brian said with a smirk.

"That's me, BB. Remember."

"I know only too well," Brian said. He began removing his clothes, as he watched Justin divest himself of his garments.

Justin's cock sprang free and stood proud and tall. He dropped to his knees in front of Brian and began to work his magic on Brian's cock. When Brian was hard and leaking, Justin sheathed the erect cock and climbed aboard. He impaled himself on Brian's cock and rode it for all he was worth. His mouth was locked with Brian's during most of the enterprise. Both men moaned as their orgasms neared. They were so in tune with each other and this was the ultimate expression of their passion.

With a final downward thrust Justin squeezed Brian's cock and they both blew their loads. Justin clung to Brian's neck trying not to fall off the wheelchair as he slumped against Brian in exhaustion. Brian's strong arms encircled Justin's slim body and pulled him close. He held on tight as his orgasm receded and the world came back into focus.

"You are … amazing," he gasped against Justin's ear.

"Back at ya," Justin whispered licking the side of Brian's face. "That was … powerful."

"I think we could use a shower," Brian groaned as Justin moved and Brian's spent dick slipped out of its recent home. Both gasped at the sudden lost.

"I never want you to leave me," Justin said softly kissing Brian's lips. He meant Brian's dick leaving his ass, but he also meant Brian in his life. He never wanted to lose this man that now meant everything to him.

"Me either," Brian replied kissing back.

Reluctantly Justin stood up and they made their way up to the shower.

Some time later they lay side by side in bed.

"Stay with me tonight?" Brian asked. "I won't do my exercises until you wake up," Brian promised.

"Okay," Justin agreed sleepily. "We should maybe think about some other sleeping arrangements since this doesn't seem to be the most practical way of doing this."

"I want you beside me every night," Brian admitted.

"I like that too."

"I sleep much better."

"I do too," Justin grinned, "until you get up and start clanking around with the weights."

"There must be some other arrangement we can work out," Brian said frowning.

"Uh huh," Justin said as he started to drift off.

But before he thought about that he had to find one Michael Novotny. He knew Brian needed friends in his life and he intended to see that he had them. He would start with this Michael and see how things went from there.

Close to Home II

+ Two +

Justin stood outside the comic book shop. It was kind of a rundown neighborhood. The store sure didn't look like much. He wondered how anybody could make a living from a place like this.

Slowly Justin opened the door to the store. There were a couple of kids looking at bins of comic books. A man about Justin's height with dark hair and dark eyes was behind the counter. He was talking to a customer that seemed to be buying something. Justin was surprised that there were that many customers in the small store.

The man behind the counter glanced up when Justin entered. He gave a little smile of welcome. He had a pleasant face. He wondered if that was Michael Novotny.

Justin made his way over to a rack of comics. He began looking at them and turning the rack. All the while his attention was really on the man behind the counter. He had googled Michael Novotny and had come up with this business. He had trouble believing Brian's best friend would run a comic book store, but this seemed the most likely of the results he had found.

The customer left and the two boys took their selected comics over to the man behind the counter. As the man rang up the sale he kept glancing over at Justin. Justin began to wonder if he was making the man nervous, or if the man was making him nervous. He was beginning to wonder if trying to find Brian's best friend was such a good idea. This man certainly wasn't what he had expected.

Finally the boys left and the store was empty except for the two of them. The dark haired man came out from behind the counter and approached Justin.

"Can I help you find something?" he asked in a soft voice.

"I'm not sure," Justin said unsure what to say to this man that might be Brian's best friend from so long ago.

"Well, if you tell me what you're interested in, maybe I can help," Michael suggested.

Justin stared into the brown eyes. This man seemed like a kind man. "Brian Kinney," Justin said suddenly.

"What?" Michael said obviously taken by surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said 'Brian Kinney'," Justin repeated.

"You know Brian?" Michael asked, his eyes getting very large.

"Yes, I do. Are you Michael Novotny?"

"Yes, I'm Michael," Michael said with a strange look on his face. "How do you know Brian? And what the fuck do you want?"

"I have gotten to know Brian very well over the last few weeks. He mentioned that you two used to be best friends." Justin watched Michael's reaction. Michael blinked like Justin's words had hurt him somewhere deep inside.

"Yeah," he sort of sighed, "we used to be."

"What happened?"

"If you know Brian, then you know what happened," Michael said frowning at Justin.

"You mean the wheelchair?"

"Yeah, and how it changed Brian."

"Would you expect it to do anything other than change him?" Justin asked. It sounded like Michael was blaming this all on Brian. Justin didn't like that one little bit.

"You don't understand," Michael said shaking his head.

"That's why I'm here," Justin stated, "to understand. I want to know why you abandoned your friend."

"Abandoned! Fuck! I didn't abandon him. He refused to see me. He drove us all away. How could we remain friends when he wouldn't fucking talk to me or answer my calls or let me into the hospital?"

"He got out of the hospital eventually," Justin said flatly. He tried to keep his voice level and not sound too accusatory. "Did you try to see him then?"

"Brian was in the hospital for a long time," Michael said slowly. "I don't know when he got out. I guess I just gave up after a while."

"What kind of best friend gives up?" Justin demanded.

"He didn't want anything to do with us," Michael tried to explain. "It wasn't like I had a choice."

"You did have a choice. I can't believe that a best friend would just walk away from their co-called 'best friend' in the hospital who had been in a terrible accident and was confined to a wheelchair and had no one else to rely on. I wouldn't call that being a best friend! Not by any stretch of my fucking imagination."

Justin was about to walk out when Michael caught his arm. "You don't understand," Michael said.

"And just what do you think I don't understand?"

"That Brian was … is a very proud man. He didn't want us to see him crippled and confined to a wheelchair."

"So you left him alone for his own good … to preserve his pride? Unfuckingbelievable!" Justin said in amazement.

"It was what Brian wanted," Michael said looking at the floor. He couldn't stand the look of disgust on this guy's face, maybe because he knew he was in the wrong in the way he had treated Brian. Michael had wanted to be Brian's friend, and he did regret walking away from the man.

"I can believe that was what Brian wanted at the time, but it's almost three years since that accident. Didn't you ever wonder what happened to Brian?"

"Of course I did! I'm not heartless."

"Sounds pretty heartless to me. Couldn't you pick up the fucking phone? Or walk over to the loft on your two good legs?"

"Brian's still at the loft?" Michael asked the surprise evident on his face.

"Where did you think he'd be?"

"I … I don't know. I guess I thought he would be in a … facility of some sort."

Justin made a face of disgust. "Just because his legs don't work doesn't mean that he's a vegetable. He's still a fucking human being. He's still Brian."

Michael studied Justin's unforgiving face. He knew he had done the wrong thing in following Brian's wishes, but he hadn't been able to do anything else. And … it had been easier to walk away, if he was truthful to himself. "Is … is he all right?" Michael asked in a small voice.

"He's still in that fucking wheelchair, and he always will be. But…" Justin paused for effect, "… he's alive, has a job, a new son."

"A son?"

"Yes, his name's Gus."

"Holy shit!" Michael said with a big grin. "Brian's a father." He shook his head in disbelief. "Is he married?" Michael asked as the thought struck him.

"No, he's not married. He's still gay," Justin said slowly. "Did you think being in a wheelchair turned him straight or something?"

"No, no, it's just that I couldn't imagine how he would have a son … under the circumstances."

"Maybe you should discuss that with him."

"Do you think he would talk to me?" Michael asked.

Justin heard the hope in Michael's voice. He suddenly felt slightly sorry for Michael, but the man had brought this situation on himself by turning away from his best friend in his time of need. "Truthfully I don't know," Justin admitted.

"He doesn't know you're here, does he?" Michael asked.

"No."

"So he doesn't want to see me?" Michael asked tentatively.

"I just thought I needed to see who he still calls his best friend."

"He calls me that?" Michael said with a smile.

"Yeah," Justin said. That was sort of what Brian had said.

"Are you building this into something it isn't?" Michael asked warily.

"I just thought you should know that Brian's still around. I know that he won't contact you, but I thought maybe…" Justin let his voice trail off.

"You want me to call him?"

"Only if you want to."

"I … I don't know. It's been so long."

"Yeah, it's been a long time. It's up to you now." Justin turned to leave.

"But … I … can't you tell me more about Brian?"

"I've probably told you more than I should. It's your move now," Justin said and walked out the door. As he closed it behind him, he hoped he had done the right thing in hunting down this man. Brian might not see it that way, but he wanted Brian to have his life back, to have a normal life with friends and family. He hoped this would work out for the best.

-----

When Justin arrived at the loft that night Brian was working on something on the computer.

"Hey," Brian said as Justin came in.

"Hey."

"Where have you been all afternoon? I left you a couple of e-mails and I even called," Brian said.

"Missed me that much, did you?" Justin grinned. He was always pleased when Brian needed him or missed him or said that he wanted him around.

"Just wondered where you were," Brian said nonchalantly. He had actually been a little worried. "I … like having you with me all the time," Brian admitted.

"That just earned you lasagna and Greek salad."

"Sounds delicious," Brian said with only a slight hesitation.

"I picked up takeout from Luigi's on the way home. I'll set it out now if you're ready to eat."

Brian finished what he was doing on the computer and then helped open a bottle of chardonnay to have with the dinner. Soon they were eating the food in happy contentment.

"So what were you doing this afternoon?" Brian asked chewing on his lasagna.

Justin debated telling him about his visit with Michael, but if Michael chose not to call, Justin didn't want to get Brian's hopes up for nothing. Or bring the wrath of Brian down on himself for interfering.

"I had some shopping to do," Justin began. "And I ended up going into a comic book shop."

"Comics? I didn't know you were interested in them," Brian said continuing to eat his dinner. Comics didn't seem to ring any bells or attract Brian's attention.

"I'm not particularly, although they are graphic art … of a sort."

"Do I detect a slight trace of snobbism?"

"No, not really. Some of them are really pretty good, at least from the art end of it. I don't know about the stories."

"Didn't you ever read Superman as a kid?"

"Sure, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Brian said. "I even belonged to a comic fan club."

"You didn't?" Justin gasped in amazement. "For what comic?"

"Captain Astro."

"Who's Captain Astro?" Justin asked never having heard of a comic book by that name.

"He's a gay superhero."

"No shit! Gay?"

"Yeah, Michael started a fan club for Captain Astro. He and I were the only members," Brian said shaking his head at the memory. "We got T-shirts and drew Captain Astro on them with marker. We were such nerds back then." Brian smiled slightly as he remembered.

"I think it's kind of sweet that the two of you did that. Do … do you miss Michael?" Justin asked holding his breath as he waited for a reply.

Brian shook his head. "I … guess … I do … sometimes," he admitted slowly.

"You could call him," Justin suggested.

"No, I don't think I can … not after all this time … and the way I treated him."

"Surely if he was your best friend he would forgive you … under the circumstances."

"I don't know. It's too late."

"It's never too late."

"According to who?" Brian asked.

"According to me," Justin replied with a smile. "Why not give Michael a call?"

Brian stared at Justin. "Dinner was delicious," he said.

Justin knew the discussion was over. One thing he had learned about Brian in their short history together - when Brian changed the subject, don't try to go back to the previous one. That was asking for a fight. And that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

"Are you done?" Justin asked as he stood and started gathering up the dishes.

"Yeah, want some help?" Brian asked adding his plate to the pile.

"I'm good, and I didn't have to cook tonight."

"You know you never have to cook," Brian said stressing the word 'have'. He wanted to make it clear that he wasn't expecting Justin to cook all the time.

"I know how much you love my culinary masterpieces," Justin said with a grin.

"You mean the mega-cal specials you come up with?" Brian teased.

"You love my specials. Seems to me you clean your plate every time."

"I do love your cooking. After years of takeout and eating alone, having you here with me is … not half bad."

Justin snorted. He knew Brian meant that as a compliment. "Not half bad" from Brian meant it was actually very good. It never ceased to amaze him how much trouble Brian had giving compliments about anything. He wondered if that was because he never received compliments as a child. Brian had told him a bit about his family, enough to know that they should be pictured beside the word dysfunctional in the dictionary.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Justin said.

"It was meant that way," Brian replied. He didn't know why he couldn't just straight out tell Justin that he loved his cooking, loved having dinner with him, loved doing anything the young man wanted.

"Why…" Justin began and then thought better of saying anything more.

"What?" Brian asked.

"Nothing, never mind."

"Come on now. We said we were going to be truthful with each other. Tell me what you want to know."

"You won't like it."

"So tell me anyway," Brian said getting annoyed.

"Why do you find it so hard to take the initiative, to say what you mean, when it involves feelings?"

Brian stared straight ahead. He frowned as he thought about Justin's question. "How the fuck should I know?" he finally blurted out.

"See, I knew it would make you mad," Justin said.

"I … I'm not mad," Brian said keeping his voice even. "I don't know the answer to your question."

"I think you do," Justin replied staring at Brian with those unwavering blue eyes.

Brian knew he wasn't going to get out of this lightly. He would have liked to have told Justin to fuck off, and in the past that would have been exactly what he would have done. But somehow in the short space of time that he had known this wonderful and often infuriating man, Brian knew that he could not say that to Justin because he never wanted him to go away. He had come to mean far too much to Brian.

"I … I don't like emotions, feelings. I don't trust them," Brian said hesitantly.

"But you trust me, don't you?" Justin asked.

"Yes, I do."

"Then why do you refuse to tell me what you're feeling?"

"Sometimes I just can't. I don't know how to do it."

"We'll work on it together," Justin said with a smile. He had also learned how far he could push something with Brian and this was about it.

"I'll try," Brian said with a note of hopelessness in his voice.

"That's all I ask. And … I have another reward for my very special student," Justin grinned at him.

"Do you now? And where is this reward?"

"Why it's up in the bedroom."

"And does it involve nakedness and touching and rubbing … things together?" Brian asked with his own grin.

"Have you been reading my mind?" Justin asked batting his baby blues at his lover.

"I don't have to. You have a one track mind." Justin smiled as he sat on Brian's lap and let the man ride them both up to the bedroom. "Sometimes a clear sense of purpose and an unwavering search for fulfillment are misinterpreted for a one track mind," Justin explained on the way up the ramp.

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with a one track mind, especially when it's on the track that yours takes all of the time."

Justin giggled as Brian pulled up by the bed and snaked his hand under the waistband of Justin's jeans. Justin felt his cock respond immediately. He and Brian had worked out the best ways to make love, but he never needed any help in getting started. Brian just had to touch him and he was hard. With Brian it was a bit different but they seemed to have managed very well.

When they lay spent and satisfied on the bed sometime later, Justin rolled over to look at Brian. He was so beautiful, and with the chair not in the picture at the moment, he looked normal and happy. Justin wished it could be like this for Brian all the time.

"Stay tonight?" Brian asked.

"Okay," Justin replied. He liked sleeping with Brian but he didn't like being awakened at the crack of dawn by Brian doing his exercises. He could stand it for this one time. But it seemed that more and more often Brian was asking him to stay. They needed to make some new arrangements if this was going to be what happened every night.

"Go to sleep," Brian said.

"Sure," Justin replied although he wasn't very sleepy. Justin knew how strenuous their coupling was for Brian even though Justin did a lot of the work. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

He had never been happier than these last few weeks with Brian. The man was a handful, and Justin was still learning, but he knew he had very strong feelings for the man, and Brian seemed to return those feelings. They did need to improve their living arrangements though.

And then there was the question of Michael. He wondered if he had made the right decision in seeking out Brian's best friend. Only time would tell if Michael would call. He had done his best to make that happen. Now all he could do was wait.

Close to Home II

+ Three +

Several days had gone by since Justin had made his trip to the comic book store. There had been no call from Michael, at least none that Brian had mentioned. Justin was pretty sure Michael would tell Brian what had prompted him to call and Brian would be either pissed at Justin or would thank him for his intervention. Either way Justin would know that Michael had followed through on his suggestion. Brian said nothing, so that could only mean that Michael hadn't called.

Justin could hardly believe that Brian's best friend would not pick up the challenge that Justin had laid down in front of him. He knew he had done just about everything he could to make Michael contact Brian. About the only thing left would have been to beg Michael to call. Justin was sure that Brian would never forgive him if he did that.

What puzzled Justin was why Michael didn't want to rekindle the friendship. He had seemed genuinely eager to hear about Brian. He also seemed to regret that he had walked out of Brian's life. All he had to do to make things right was to pick up the phone. But he hadn't done that.

Justin put some of the finishing touches on his latest piece of artwork. He was trying something a little different. He had discovered that if he sketched something, usually a person, and then encapsulated the sketch in thick paint that expressed the emotion he had tried to capture in the sketch, he got some interesting results. He had finished one of Gus surrounded by baby blue with royal blue accents to show how special the baby was. He had added some hints of deep pink and red, the heart colors, because the little boy was so loved by all three of his parents.

Now he was working on one of Brian in his wheelchair. You saw the man from the back so no one would know it was Brian, except of course for Justin and Brian. Justin thought that would be the way Brian would want it. He was trying to capture the feelings of loneliness and despair and anger that had radiated off Brian when he had first met him. Justin wasn't sure he had the right combination yet, but he was getting close.

His next piece would be Brian's face. Everyone would see the beauty that Justin saw, and they would also feel the peace and happiness that Justin had witnessed develop in Brian over the last month. He liked to think he had a lot to do with these new emotions that Brian was experiencing. Justin smiled as he cleaned his brush.

It was late afternoon so Justin decided to make his way up to Brian's loft. He knew they had bought tenderloin of pork the day before and Justin decided that he would roast it for dinner.

When Justin shoved back the loft door, he expected to see Brian working at the computer. That was usually where he was. No one was behind the desk, but the curtains had been drawn back on one of the tall windows. Brian sat in front of it staring up at the sky.

"Is something wrong, Brian?" Justin asked softly.

There was no answer so Justin moved across the apartment to stand beside Brian. He looked at the man's face. It was expressionless, but Justin was sure he could see fierce emotions flicker across it.

"Brian, what is it?" Justin asked squatting down so he could look at Brian's face dead on.

"Have you heard the news today?" Brian asked.

"The news? No, why?" Brian shook his head. "Brian, tell me what the fuck is wrong."

"It's … it doesn't matter."

"It fucking obviously does matter! So tell me!"

"Christopher Reeve died this morning."

"Christopher Reeve? The guy who played Superman?" Brian nodded. "I don't …" Justin hesitated and then it dawned on him.

"He was confined to a wheelchair. Didn't he fall off a horse or something?"

"Yes," Brian whispered, "and it was a lot more than being confined to a fucking wheelchair."

"Why are you so upset?"

"Go home, Justin. Just leave me alone for now," Brian said.

"I don't want to leave you like this. Please tell me what this is about."

"Justin, I need some time alone. Please, just go."

Justin wanted to take Brian in his arms and hold him tight. He wanted to make everything all right, but he didn't even know what was wrong. All he could do was follow Brian's wishes. He moved over to the loft door. No roast pork tonight, Justin thought.

"Brian," he said aloud, "if you want me I'll be home. Or call … or e-mail."

There was no response so Justin left the loft drawing the door quietly shut behind him. He hoped Brian would call. He needed to know more about what had happened.

As soon as he got home he went on the internet to see what they were saying about Christopher Reeve. The most recent pictures of Reeve were kind of frightening. He had lost all his hair and he seemed kind of grotesque. They had pictures of Reeve as the young Superman when he was so strong and handsome. Justin wondered why Brian was so upset about Reeve's death. Wouldn't you want to be dead when you had to struggle even to breathe?

Justin continued reading and to his amazement he discovered all the things that the crippled Christopher Reeve had been involved in. He read about his fight to walk again and all the research that had been spurred on and funded by Reeve's efforts. According to one report that Justin read, Reeve, a quadriplegic had recently been able to move one of his fingers and had taken breaths on his own without a respirator.

He was a major advocate of stem cell research which according to the articles Justin read held great promise in healing spinal cord injuries. Justin read on and on. He had been reading for over two hours when his computer sounded indicating that he had an e-mail.

"Brian," was Justin's first thought.

Justin quickly clicked on his e-mail program and with a sigh of relief he opened the e-mail from Brian. It said:

BB,

I'm sorry that I was so abrupt with you, but I needed some more time to come to terms with the death of Christopher Reeve. I guess you're wondering why on earth I should be upset by the death of a movie star, but he was so much more than that, so much that I can hardly express it. That's why I'm sending you this e-mail. I thought if I could put my feelings down in writing it might make more sense.

Do you believe that I am actually writing about feelings? I don't. I can hardly believe that I'm doing this, but I want you to understand. The fact that it took the death of this man to make me do this is very significant. It should give you some idea of what he meant to me and to many other people confined to wheelchairs.

Christopher Reeve became my hope, my inspiration that I would someday walk again, my reason for living on some of the black days that I went through. If you know anything about the man, you know that his condition was a hundred times worse than mine. And yet I never fucking heard him complain once. He took up the cause of spinal cord research and relentlessly went ahead making researchers take notice and inspiring them to try new techniques. He raised mountains of money for research too.

But the thing about him that was so significant was his unalterable belief that one day he would stand up from his wheelchair and walk again. And if he could do that, then so could I. He truly believed that day would come, and because he believed, so did I. I guess that's what threw me for a loop today when I heard that he was dead. It was kind of like a part of me died with him. I lost that faint hope that I might someday lead a normal life.

Christopher will never get his chance to walk, and it struck me that now I wouldn't either. It left me feeling so empty and hopeless. I still feel that way, but I guess I've come to terms with some of it. I have you, just like Christopher had his wife. She never wavered in her faith in him, and I'd like to think that you will do the same.

If you want to be with me, come on up. The door's open.

PP

Justin logged off his computer and locked up his loft. He would stay the whole night with Brian. He knew the man needed him and he intended to be there.

As he climbed the flight of stairs to Brian's loft, he thought about Brian's words. He wondered what it must have taken for Brian to write that e-mail, and expose his innermost thoughts and fears. He knew that Brian liked to appear strong and invincible even from his wheelchair. He hated people to pity him or think that he couldn't do things for himself. That is what had kept him locked up in the loft, alone, for so long. Maybe this was a breakthrough of some sort.

True to his e-mail the loft door stood open. Brian was at the windows looking out into the now black night sky. "Come in," Brian said softly.

"Are you feeling a little better now?" Justin asked coming over beside Brian.

Brian nodded ever so slightly. Justin knew he was far from all right. "Sit down, please," Brian said indicating his lap.

Justin sat down and put his arms around Brian's neck. His lips sought the soft ones that he loved so much. The kiss was tender and gentle and lasted for a very long time. Justin rested his forehead against Brian's.

"I'm sorry, Brian," Justin whispered. "I spent all the time since I was here reading about Christopher Reeve and all he has done for spinal cord research. I think I understand a little better why you were upset."

"That's good," Brian said glad that Justin had taken his worries to heart. "But I don't want to talk about it right now. I need you. I need you beside me and inside me. I need to be close."

"I need that too. And I'll try to always be there for you."

"Thank you."

They made love tenderly, carefully, cherishing each touch and each moment. It was an affirmation of life, that Brian was still alive, and that they had a future ahead of them. When they were through they lay on Brian's bed, fingers entwined, facing each other.

"Do you feel a little better now?" Justin asked.

Brian looked into the blue eyes but didn't answer. Justin leaned closer and kissed Brian gently on the lips. They just lay there for several minutes, neither making a sound.

"I'm not sure what I feel at the moment," Brian finally said. "I wish I could feel positive. You have changed my life so much already, but now…"

"I understand that this is hard for you, but don't give up. Okay? Just don't give up."

"I'll try."

"What if you did something positive instead?" Justin asked suddenly.

"Like what?"

"I don't know…" Justin replied wracking his brain to come up with something. "What if you went back to Ryder full time?"

"You mean work at the office?"

"Yeah."

"Why the fuck would I want to do that?"

"It would … it would mean that you had reclaimed your place in the world."

"I have my place in the world," Brian stated with a frown.

"What? The twelve hundred square feet of the loft? The world's a lot bigger than that."

"It's twelve hundred and eighty to be exact. And it suits me just fine."

"Maybe it's too fine, too comfortable, too easy."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was reading all that stuff about Christopher Reeve it struck me how in your face he was prepared to be. He made personal appearances all the time. He was always available to help promote new research or to help in fund raising. He never hid away or backed away from meeting people."

"And you think that's what I'm doing? Hiding away here in the loft?"

"Aren't you?"

Brian stared at Justin. He knew the man was telling him the truth. He just hated to admit it to himself. He had hidden here for two years before Justin found him. Justin had made him go to the hospital for the birth of his son. Justin had convinced him to go out for coffee. Justin had taken him to visit Gus. Justin had changed his life.

But the big question was, could he change it any more, even with Justin's help? Did he want to change? Could he stand to change? He still hated people looking at him, pitying him. If he went back to work at Ryder he would have to see people every day and they would see him. Many of them would remember what he had been before and the comparison with what he had become could be nothing but bad. He didn't think he could stand that.

"I don't think I'm ready to do that," Brian finally said.

"I don't think that's what Christopher would have said."

"Fuck you! I'm not Christopher Reeve."

"That's for sure."

"And what the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that he never gave up. He must have been afraid all the time. Can you imagine what it must have been like not to even be able to breathe on your own? I read where the machine quit on him a couple of times and he almost died. But he never let his fear conquer him. He fought against it … all the time. And I guess that's what I'm asking you to do, Brian. Fight it, fight for what you want your life to be, fight for us, fight for Gus and the strong young man he will grow up to be. Don't you want to see him grow up?"

Brian swallowed several times. He couldn't get his tongue to work to reply. He felt like he was drowning. "Of course I want to see my son grow up," Brian managed to get out after a minute or two. "I … I want him to be proud of me, just like I'll be proud of him."

"Then don't give up. Try to move forward. I'll be beside you every step of the way. That is, if you want me to be."

Brian pulled Justin toward him and his arms captured the slim body. Justin had to know that Brian wanted him right by his side. He couldn't imagine a life without Justin there beside him. How quickly things had changed. He wondered if he could keep changing. Justin had no idea how hard it was for him. Every change upset his neat, orderly world, and meant hours, days of adapting and finding a new routine. Brian sighed heavily.

"I understand that it's hard Brian," Justin whispered against his throat. "But it will be worth it."

"How can you know that?"

"I'm an optimist," Justin chuckled.

"Do you really believe that your optimism can cancel out my pessimism?" Brian asked.

"I don't think you're so pessimistic," Justin said softly.

"What? Just a coward?"

"I think you've been depressed after this news."

"So I'm a depressimist?" Brian asked.

"That's a good word for it," Justin chuckled. He always enjoyed the way Brian's mind worked with words.

"Glad you find me entertaining," Brian said cryptically.

"What if you talked to Ryder about coming in mornings or afternoons, just for half days to begin with?"

"And why would that be a good idea?"

"It would let you settle into a routine and see if you liked it. If things bothered you, you would only have to be there for a few hours. Then you could come home and leave it all behind you."

"You see," Brian said with what might be construed as a smirk. "You think it's going to be awful, that I'll only be able to stand a few hours of it, that I'll want to run home."

"That … that's not what I meant," Justin contradicted. However, that was basically what he thought. He had tried to give Brian an out and the man had seen right through it. Sometimes Brian was just too smart.

"I like things the way they are," Brian stated.

"Fine," Justin said. "I won't bother you about it anymore."

Justin had quickly learned that pressing Brian to do something usually meant that he would dig in his heels and refuse to do it at all. Sometimes by giving in and letting Brian make his own decision, the man would make the one you wanted him to. That was all Justin could hope for now.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Justin asked after a minute or two.

"Yeah, I'd like that … if you want to," Brian admitted with some hesitation.

Justin chuckled. "I want to. I like being with you."

"Except for the mornings."

"It's all right," Justin said trying to make things easy for Brian.

"I've been thinking about that," Brian said.

"You have?"

"Yeah, but…"

Before Brian could finish his statement the phone rang. Brian reached for the cordless sitting on the nightstand.

"Yeah," he said. It better not be a fucking telemarketer. "Who's this?... What?… Yeah, yeah, I remember... I guess so… I, I suppose that would be all right… Okay, tomorrow morning."

Brian hung up. He flopped back on the bed staring up at the ceiling. Justin waited for him to explain the call.

When nothing was forthcoming, Justin ran his hand along Brian's arm and asked, "Who was that?"

"Michael."

"Michael, as in Michael Novotny, your best friend?" Justin asked in amazement.

"The very same."

"What did he want?"

"He's coming over tomorrow morning."

"Wow!" Justin reacted.

Brian turned towards him. "I wonder what brought this on after all this time."

"I guess you'll find out tomorrow," Justin said.

"I guess I will."

Close to Home II

+ Four +

Justin awoke to the sound of Brian doing his exercises. Brian was banging weights and grunting. Justin was pretty sure that it was all an effort to wake him up. He opened his eyes and through the frosted glass partitions he could see the shape of Brian on the bench pressing weights.

Justin closed his eyes again and thought back to that phone call last night, the one from Michael Novotny. He had been surprised that Michael had finally called. It had only taken him a week to make that decision. Justin knew that his role in all this was going to come out, but there was nothing he could do about it. Brian would either be happy he had contacted Michael or he would be pissed. It would probably depend on how Brian's meeting with Michael went. He would know by tonight.

Justin opened his eyes and focused on Brian's shadow through the partition. He wondered if Brian had given any thought to his suggestion about going back to work at the office at Ryder. He had planted the seeds. He wondered if they would take root. He hoped that they would. He wanted Brian to have a good life, a full life, and that meant getting out in the world, not staying locked in the loft all the time. Going back to work at the office could be that first step to a new life. There was nothing more he could do about it. It was up to Brian now.

Thinking over their conversation last night, Justin vaguely remembered Brian starting to say something about their living arrangements, but then the phone had rung. He wondered what Brian was going to say. It would be so much easier if the loft had more privacy, if they had a separate bedroom where he could close the door and sleep while Brian rattled around with his weights or entertained guests. But it was a fact of life that this was where Brian lived and there was next to no privacy.

Justin groaned and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He needed to get up and go to his own loft before Michael arrived. He stood up and scratched his balls. As he went into the bathroom to piss, he felt Brian's eyes on him. But he said nothing, just kept moving. He was not ready to talk yet. Maybe after he splashed some water on his face he would be more communicative, but he doubted it. He just wasn't a morning person. He wanted a couple more hours of sleep. That's all there was to it.

When Justin came out of the bathroom he gathered up his clothes and threw on enough to get him down to his apartment. He stepped down from the bedroom and saw Brian drinking one of those God awful protein guava juice drinks that he was known to imbibe in the morning. Justin wanted to throw up as he looked at the foul concoction.

"I'm going home," Justin muttered as he passed by.

"And a cheery good morning to you too," Brian snarked.

Justin growled and kept going. "Let me know how your visit with Michael goes."

"If he shows up."

"You don't think he will?" Justin asked turning back to look at Brian.

"Let's just say that I'm not getting my hopes up. It's only been two years since I last saw him. We can probably pick right up where we left off," Brian said sarcastically.

"At least give him the benefit of the doubt."

"I don't think I can stand your overwhelming optimism first thing in the morning," Brian said with his tongue in cheek.

"Fuck off, asshole," Justin retorted as he headed out the door.

Brian chuckled and then his face sobered. He didn't know what to expect from this visit with Michael. He didn't know if Michael would be pissed at him for having been driven away by Brian's tactics in the hospital. Michael might hate him for what he had done and be coming by to tell him off. Brian wasn't even sure how he felt about Michael anymore. He was a little ambivalent about their relationship. He knew on some level that he had always hoped Michael would try to get in touch with him when he got out of the hospital. But so much time had gone by. He wondered what had precipitated Michael's call. He should find out in a few minutes.

Brian logged on to his computer and decided to leave an e-mail for Justin. He thought for several minutes trying to decide what he wanted to say. Finally he started typing.

Hey BB,

I know I was a bit of an asshole as you so graciously labeled me before you left. Thanks for staying with me last night and leaving before Michael arrived. I know you want us to have privacy, and that's probably a good thing since I really don't know what to expect from this visit.

Michael and his family were very important to me when I was younger. I have missed them, but I've refused to think about it for such a long time now. I guess I'm nervous about what Michael has to say to me. I would hate for him to tell me to fuck off, and then just leave.

You know, there are a lot of things that I'm afraid of. I'm just beginning to realize that. This meeting with Michael is one of them. Don't they say that fear of the unknown is the most common. That's what I have. Fear of the unknown Novotny factor has me quaking in my chair. I know I'm rambling, but it's time for Michael to be here and he isn't.

I wonder if he's not going to come at all. I want to know why he called. I want to settle a few things. I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't show up. Shit! Am I pathetic or what?

I hope you have a few more hours of sleep. Maybe you'll come cheer me up when you wake up. I might need some TLC. Michael's already five minutes late. Shit!

I don't know what else to say. I'm just trying to use up time until Michael gets here, if he comes at all. The buzzer! Gotta go, Sunshine. Talk to you later.

PP

Brian buzzed Michael up without saying anything. He thought their first words should be face to face. He pulled back the loft door hearing the elevator start its ascent. Brian could feel his heart racing and his breath becoming somewhat ragged. He was hyperventilating. Jesus Christ! He needed to get a grip.

Brian tried to catch his breath. He couldn't believe how much this meeting meant to him. He had to appear cool, calm and collected. He couldn't let Michael see his trepidation. He had to find out what the man wanted after all this time. If he wanted to be friends again, that was one thing. But if he wanted something else and couldn't care less about Brian as a friend, then Brian didn't want to betray his feelings. Brian never wanted to give away what he was feeling.

The elevator stopped and the gate was pushed up. Brian stayed on his side of the loft door but looked out at the man who emerged from the lift. It was Michael looking like he always looked, Big Q T-shirt and jeans, dark eyes and a goofy smile. His hair was different but it looked good on him.

"Brian," Michael said with his smile getting even bigger.

"Mikey," Brian breathed in response.

Brian wheeled his chair back so that Michael could come in. Michael looked like he might have wanted to come closer, maybe give Brian a hug, but he hesitated and the moment was lost. Michael looked around the loft.

"Things haven't changed too much," he said.

"Not in the loft," Brian said cryptically.

"It … it's good to see you again," Michael said staring at Brian.

"It's been a long time." Brian hoped that that didn't sound like an accusation. He didn't mean it that way.

"Yeah, too long."

"What prompted you to call?"

"Justin."

"Justin?"

"Blond guy, about my height, read me the riot act."

"Justin, fuck!"

"You know who I'm talking about, don't you?" Michael asked with a frown.

"Did … did he tell you that I wanted to see you?"

"No, he didn't say that. Did you … do you want to see me?" Michael asked unsure what was going on with this guy Justin.

"I'm always glad to see you, Michael," Brian said trying to keep his answer non-committal but not too negative.

"Like you were in the hospital?" Michael had to ask.

"That … that was a bad time for me," Brian said softly.

"It was a fucking bad time for all of us!"

Brian grimaced. Here it comes, Brian thought. Now he's going to tell me off and walk out. They stared at each other neither wanting to break the silence, neither knowing how to break the stalemate.

"Why did you drive us all away?" Michael finally asked.

He wasn't yelling. He hadn't walked out. He sounded like he really wanted an answer to that question. "I couldn't stand it anymore," Brian almost whispered his reply.

"Stand what?" Michael demanded. "Stand us? Stand the hospital? Stand people caring about you? Stand me?" The hurt in Michael's voice was obvious.

"All of the above," Brian said sadly. "I couldn't stand anything. I hated myself, hated what I had become, hated that fucking hospital, and the futility of it all. I couldn't face one more sympathetic face, one more fucking day!"

"We cared about you," Michael said in an accusatory tone. "We all did our best to help you, to make it easier, and you locked us out."

Brian shook his head. "Don't you understand that nothing could have made it easier? I didn't want it to be easier. I just wanted it to … to be over. I should have fucking died in that accident. It would have made much more sense."

"Well, fuck you! You didn't fucking die. You fucking lived, and you were still our friend. Or we thought you were … until you refused to see us."

"I wasn't your friend then. I wasn't myself. I wasn't anything."

"You'll always be Brian fucking Kinney … and I will always love you, you big asshole."

"Mikey," Brian croaked in a strangled voice.

Suddenly Michael had a hold of Brian and they were hugging and kissing and everything suddenly seemed like it used to … almost.

"I love you, Brian," Michael said with tears in his eyes.

"You too. Always have, always will."

Michael stepped away and wiped at his eyes. Brian took a deep breath and tried to steady his pounding heart.

"We're a couple of blithering idiots," Michael said.

"Fucking lesbos!"

They both chuckled at the reference.

"Speaking of lesbos," Michael said, "I hear you're a father."

"Have you kept in touch with Mel and Linds?" Brian asked surprised. They had never mentioned it.

"No, haven't seen them in ages. Justin mentioned that you were a father, and I kind of assumed that it would be Lindsay," Michael explained.

"Don't think I could find anyone else to impregnate?" Brian smirked.

Michael looked at Brian and glanced at the chair. The direction of Michael's eyes was not lost on Brian and he shuddered involuntarily. "You can always find someone, Brian," Michael stated. "You could always have your pick … male or female. Nobody doubts that."

"Don't fucking lie," Brian reacted. "Those days are long gone."

"If they are, then who's this Justin?"

Brian thought about that before he answered. "That's kind of hard to explain. He lives in the loft below this one." Michael's eyebrows went up at that statement. "He … we … he has been coming up here a lot lately. I … like him."

"I'd say he likes you too, if he went to all the trouble to track me down for you."

"I didn't ask him to," Brian said feeling the need to make that clear.

"He couldn't believe that your best friend would abandon you."

Brian looked up startled. "He said that to you?" Michael nodded. "I'm going to have to talk to that boy."

They looked at each other for a minute not sure where to go with this reunion. "Would you like some coffee?" Brian asked. "I could make a pot."

"Sure," Michael said with a grin. He always was so easy.

"Have you got any pictures of your son?" Michael asked. "I'd like to see if he looks like his dad," he teased.

"Have a seat. I'll put the coffee on and then you can have your fill of Gus pictures."

"Gus? Is that his name?" Michael asked sitting down on the sofa.

"That's his name," Brian replied. "Good butch name, don't you think?"

"Not bad."

"The other choice was Abraham," Brian said as he finished filling the coffee pot and switched it on.

"No shit! I'm glad you chose Gus." Michael smiled mischievously at Brian as Brian came over to the living room.

"That was Justin's choice." Michael was surprised that Justin would have had any part in the naming of the child. He'd have to find out more about this before he left. Brian hesitated for a moment. "Michael, I'm glad you came today, for whatever reason."

"I'm glad I did too. Now where's those pictures?"

Brian brought out the little album of pictures that Lindsay had given him. Suddenly he was glad to have them and have someone to share them with. When the coffee was ready, Michael helped Brian bring it over to the sofa and they sipped it as they talked. Brian found out that Debbie and Vic were both doing okay. Vic seemed to be stronger lately although they had thought he might die not so long ago.

"I'd love to see Vic again," Brian said. Vic had been his mentor on and off through his teen years. Vic had worked in New York when Brian had first met him, but he had taken Michael and Brian under his wing whenever he was home for a visit. "And Debbie too," Brian added. The woman had been more of a mother to him than the warden ever had.

"They'd love to see you too," Michael said.

"Even after the way I treated them?"

"We … were upset when you shut us out. We tried to see you so many times, and then you left the hospital and we didn't know where you were. They wouldn't give us any information."

"I told them not to," Brian admitted.

"Where did you go? I called here and came over several times, but there was never anyone here. I thought you had moved away."

"I went to a convalescent hospital. They taught me exercises and how to live in this fucking thing," Brian said smacking the side of his wheelchair. "If you can call it living."

"You look pretty alive to me."

"Do I? Until … until recently I would have argued that with you."

"And what happened recently to change that?" Michael asked.

Brian wasn't sure how much he should reveal, but he knew Justin was in his life for as long as the young man chose to stay there. "Justin," was all Brian said.

"Are you going to tell me who he is? Is he your neighbor or your boyfriend?"

"I'm not sure what he is," Brian answered truthfully. "He is a persistent little twat, and … and I like having him around."

"So he is your boyfriend?"

"In an unconventional, non-defined kind of way I guess he is," Brian admitted. He wondered what Justin would say if he knew Brian had just told that to Michael.

"You're smiling," Michael told him. "Every time you mention Justin you smile."

"Do I? He's made such a difference in my life in the few short weeks I've known him. He's given me a reason to care about living."

"More than Gus has?"

"I wouldn't have been at Gus' birth if Justin hadn't forced the issue … in his own unique way."

"I'll have to get to know this Justin," Michael said with a grin.

"I'd like that, Mikey, if you want to stick around in my life," Brian said staring into Michael's eyes.

Michael knew that was a question. "I never wanted to be out of your life, Brian," he said softly.

"So what have you been doing since I last saw you. Still working at the Big Q?"

"I'm proud to say that I told them to fuck off. I have my own business, a comic book store," Michael said proudly.

"A comic store!" Brian snorted. "Jesus, Mikey, are you ever going to grow up?"

"No, asshole. I'm going to be like Peter Pan, and stay young forever, and read comics forever."

"Remember that pathetic Captain Astro club that we started?" Brian asked. Now he knew why Justin had been asking all those questions.

"Yeah, the founder and the only other member," Michael grinned pointing to each of them.

"And have you found someone?" Brian asked. He hoped Michael was happy, happier than he had been until he had found Justin.

"His name's Ben. He's a professor at Carnegie-Mellon."

"Wow! Mikey has a professor. You always hated school."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Michael chuckled.

"Are any of the others still around?" Brian asked. He hated to have Michael know that he was still interested in Temmett and their pathetic lives.

"You mean Ted and Emmett?" Michael asked with a laugh.

"The very ones."

"They dated for awhile," Michael said and waited for Brian's reaction.

"Well, fuck me!" Brian reacted. "And what happened?"

"They finally came to their senses and realized they made better friends than lovers."

"That must have been a relief for everyone." Brian shuddered at the thought of the two of them together.

"It was," Michael laughed. "Ted's still at Wertschafter's and Emmett's trying to start up a party planning business with Uncle Vic."

"No shit!"

"Emmett still works at Torso though, until he can get enough business to do the party stuff full time."

"And do you make a good living off the comic store?" Brian asked.

"I'm okay. It was tricky at first. I took over Buzzy's old place when he retired to Florida."

"That's where we were supposed to go," Brian said somewhat wistfully. "Two old queens living out their days in West Palm."

"Things change."

"Yeah, lots of things."

"I should probably get going," Michael said looking at his watch. "Uncle Vic's looking after the store until lunch time. I better get back."

Michael started towards the door, Brian trailing behind in his wheelchair.

"Michael," Brian said as his friend pulled open the loft door. "Thanks for calling and coming today. It was … nice, catching up."

"Yeah, it was."

Michael buzzed for the elevator. "You know," he said turning back to face Brian, "we could do this every once in a while, if … if you wanted to."

"I'd like that," Brian replied. Michael's smile was enormous.

"I'd like that too. In fact, Ma's having a family dinner next week. You remember those, don't you?" Brian nodded. "Why don't you come? Ma would love to see you, and so would everybody else. You could bring Justin, and Gus, and maybe the Munchers."

"I … I don't know," Brian said thinking about the steps up to Debbie's front door. He was not going to be carried in like some fucking invalid, even if that was what he was. Brian saw the look of disappointment on Michael's face.

"It's not because I don't want to come. It's just that … your mother's house isn't wheelchair friendly."

"Oh," Michael said. "I never thought about that. Let me see what I can do."

"Don't … don't worry about it," Brian said quickly. "I'd like it if you came by again though."

"Count on it," Michael said with a smile as he pulled down the gate of the elevator.

Brian watched him disappear from view and then went back inside the loft closing the door behind him. He had a lot to think about and then there was a certain blond who needed a good talking to.

Close to Home II

+ Five +

Justin rolled off Brian and stretched out beside him. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wiped his stomach. He tossed one to Brian who was removing the condom.

"So are you going to tell me what Michael had to say?"

"I'm sleepy," Brian replied.

"It's four o'clock in the fucking afternoon. You're not tired."

"You wore me out," Brian said with a smirk.

"You are a colossal asshole."

"Moi?"

"Either tell me what Michael had to say or I'm leaving," Justin threatened.

"Okay, okay. What do you want to know?"

"How did it go?"

"It was awkward at first, but I'd say we were both happy to see each other."

That sounded like a good thing. "Did he say what made him call?" Justin asked. He figured they might as well get this out in the open.

"He missed me." Brian smothered his smirk. He wasn't going to let Justin off too easily.

"What? Out of the blue two years later he just decided to try your number and call?"

"Something like that."

Justin heaved a loud sigh. "So what did he have to say for himself?" Justin asked deciding to come at this from another direction.

"He has a boyfriend, Ben, and he owns a comic book shop."

"Does he call it Captain Astro?" Justin said referring to their conversation about comics.

"Funny you should bring that up. We did talk about Captain Astro."

"You did? That's a coincidence."

"Yeah, big coincidence," Brian agreed stifling the urge to laugh.

Justin fidgeted. He was sure Brian knew that he had sought Michael out and encouraged him to call Brian. Why didn't he just say so? "Why did he abandon you?" Justin finally asked.

"You know, he told me that he had a visit from some blond boy who asked him how he could abandon his best friend. You wouldn't happen to know who that blond boy might be, would you?" Brian glared at Justin in mock anger.

"Fine! Fine! I'll admit it. I went to Michael's store and told him off for leaving you all alone in the hospital. I told him he should call. Are you fucking happy now?"

"Ecstatic!"

"So are you mad at me?" Justin asked wrinkling his nose and trying to look cute.

"Furious!"

"Briiiaaan," Justin whined.

"Yeeessssss!"

"You are the most frustrating hunk of flesh I have ever met."

"You shouldn't stick your nose in where it doesn't belong," Brian said rolling towards Justin.

Justin put out his hand and held Brian at arm's length. "Am I forgiven? Did you like getting together with Michael? It worked out all right, didn't it?"

"Yes, yes and yes," Brian said with a grin.

"Oh, thank God. You had me worried there for a minute."

"More than a minute," Brian smirked.

"Don't you ever quit?"

"It's been a long time since I had anybody to torment. I'm enjoying myself."

Justin burst out laughing at that comment. It was stupid and pathetic and so … Brian. "I'm always happy to be of service," he snorted.

"Except in the morning," Brian reminded him.

"I can't help it if I'm a night person."

"We need to talk about that," Brian said seriously.

"We do?"

"But not right now. I have something I want to ask you."

"And what's that?" Justin would have liked to talk about their living arrangements and Brian being a morning person and Justin a night owl. It would have to wait for now.

"Michael wants to meet you."

"He did. I thought I just confirmed that."

"Apparently you didn't give him much of a chance to talk."

Justin snorted. "Maybe not," he replied.

"He invited us to dinner at his mother's next week," Brian said watching Justin's reaction.

"Are we going?" Justin asked with a smile.

"I … told him that his mother's house isn't really wheelchair friendly."

"What did he say?" Justin asked with a frown. He hoped Michael hadn't said something stupid that upset Brian.

"He said they'd try to do something. But I told him not to bother. His mom's a waitress. She doesn't have a lot of money. I don't want her spending money on a ramp or other useless stuff."

"You are a sweet, considerate man," Justin said sliding closer to Brian and giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"If you get to meet the rest of my friends you'll soon learn the error of such a thought."

"There's no error. I'm on to you."

Brian actually smiled and pulled Justin close. He held on tight for a moment and then released Justin with a sigh.

"I should really be furious with you," Brian said looking into the blue eyes.

"Why? I thought you said you were glad I contacted Michael."

"Because … now I want more."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I want my old life back, and that can never be," Brian said sadly.

"I know you're not going to get out of that wheelchair anytime soon, but you can still have friends and family and a good life," Justin stated boldly.

"You are such a Pollyanna," Brian said with a smile.

"That's me, Justin P. Taylor."

"Twat!" Brian reacted kissing those adorable lips. "What did I ever do without you?"

"Not very well," Justin said seriously. "So, are we done talking? I'm hungry."

"Christ! You're always hungry."

"Just a snack to tide me over till dinner," Justin giggled as Brian tickled his tummy.

"Do you think we could…?" Brian hesitated.

Justin knew they were getting to the real crux of the problem finally. "Could what?"

"Could we maybe have a family dinner here?" Brian asked and looked away not wanting to face Justin if he refused.

"Brian, it's your home. You can do whatever you want … and I think it's a great idea."

"I could never do it by myself. I'm asking you to be here and … help me."

"Of course, I will, you big goof. Why do you even have to ask?"

"I do have manners," Brian protested.

"Only when it suits you."

"What does that mean?"

"How many times have you ripped my clothes off without so much as a fare thee well," Justin ranted giving his best imitation of an elegant lady from a Victorian movie.

Brian laughed his ass off. "I'll keep you around just for entertainment value."

"Thanks, I think."

"As for ripping your clothes off, do you want me to stop?"

"Hell, no," Justin said rolling on top of Brian and giggling. "I was just making a point."

"Thought so," Brian chuckled running his hands down Justin's back and squeezing the perfect globes of his ass.

"Umm," Justin groaned. "I really am hungry," he said with that luscious pout. At that point Justin's stomach rumbled ominously so Brian let him up, sorry to lose the delicious weight that had been atop him. He watched Justin's bubble butt disappear down the steps and head for the kitchen.

Brian smiled to himself. Justin really was a wonderful person, so confident and self-assured, so kind and gentle, so smart and forthright, so sexy and horny. What more could Brian ever want in a partner, and that was the way Brian had begun to think of Justin, as his partner. He couldn't even remember his life before Justin had arrived on the scene.

The buzzer went off indicating that someone was demanding entrance down below.

"Will you answer that?" Brian asked starting to get some clothes on.

Justin walked naked to the button by the door and asked," Who is it?"

"Trey," was the one word answer.

Justin buzzed him up. He pulled open the loft door and then walked back up to the bedroom. "Trey's on his way up. I better get dressed."

"Even though Trey's straight, I bet he would appreciate that ass."

Justin giggled and wiggled his butt in Brian's face. He was pleased with the groan that his actions produced. "Thanks," he said with a chuckle, "but I think I'll cover it just the same."

Justin climbed into his jeans while Brian hiked himself into his chair. He was rolling down the ramp when Trey appeared in the doorway.

"That wasn't your voice just now," Trey said. "You got company?"

"A very bad blond boy has been driving me insane," Brian said with a smirk.

"Sounds like your idea of heaven," Trey laughed.

"Pretty much," Brian said sticking his tongue in his cheek. "What brings you by? Got another new toy for me?"

"Not exactly. I was wondering how you were doing with…" His voice trailed off as Justin appeared from behind the glass screens. He was pulling on his T-shirt.

"Hey, Justin," Trey said. "Was that you on the intercom?"

"Yep. I was just going to get something to eat. Want anything?" Justin asked.

"No thanks. I was wondering how you two were getting on. Since you're just getting dressed at five in the afternoon, I guess that answers my question."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Brian said with a smirk, even though he knew Trey was right. "I was up early and had company this morning," he said smugly. "Justin only came up a little while ago."

"Long enough for the two of you to get naked," Trey teased. "And who was this company?" Trey liked the fact that Brian was having more contact with the outside world. He had been trying to get the man to do that for as long as he had known him. This Justin was certainly having an impact on Brian's life.

"Michael."

"Michael, as in Novotny, your best friend?"

"The same."

"Well, fuck me! How did that happen?"

"Courtesy of that very bad, blond boy I mentioned before."

Brian smiled at Justin who grinned back and took a little curtsey in acceptance of his role. Justin then continued rummaging through the fridge for something to eat. As usual his efforts were proving fruitless.

"You are one ballsy little fella," Trey said in praise of Justin's actions.

"You don't know the half of it," Brian replied sucking in his bottom lip.

Justin shrugged and grinned at them both. He finally picked up an apple from the bowl on the counter. It would have to do till dinner.

"I'm thinking of having a party," Brian said suddenly.

Justin choked noisily on the apple he was eating. Brian had said a dinner, a family dinner, not a party.

"A party?" Trey reacted. "Who the hell are you and what happened to Brian Kinney."

"The new and improved Brian Kinney is standing, pardon me, sitting right here in front of you."

"Brian," Justin said with a tone of caution in his voice. "I think you should take this a little slower. You don't want to bite off more than you can chew."

"I can handle it all," Brian said confidently. "You said you'd help me. And you're invited to the party, Trey," Brian said with more energy than Trey had heard in a long time.

"Just tell me when. I'm always ready to par-tay."

"I'll have to let you know, "Brian said. "We're still in the planning stage."

"Well, I should be going," Trey said. "I stopped by to see how you were doing and everything seems to be fine, better than fine."

"I'll show you out," Justin said walking with Trey to the elevator.

"I take the stairs," Trey said.

"I know, but I'm concerned about Brian. I think he's jumping way too fast into things that may not turn out the way he wants."

"You could be right. This is a major about face for him."

"What do you think I should do?" Justin asked not liking to have his worries confirmed.

"Try to slow him down a bit, but don't crush this enthusiasm for life. It's great to see him looking so alive."

"It's a fine balance. I'm not sure I can do it."

"Do your best. That's all anyone can do. And by the way, you have worked miracles with him already."

Justin beamed with pleasure at Trey's praise. He tried to control the elation he felt as he watched Trey go down the stairs. He hoped his face looked normal as he went back into the loft. "Should I order dinner?" he asked Brian as he tossed the core of his apple into the garbage can.

"What did you and Trey cook up out there?" Brian asked. He didn't like being played for a fool.

Justin was about to make something up, but one look at Brian's face and he decided that the truth was a better idea. "I'm worried about this party thing," he said. "I wanted Trey's advice."

"So did you two decide that I couldn't handle it?"

"No, no, we didn't. He told me to maybe try to slow you down a bit, but he thinks your enthusiasm is great."

"Why should I slow down?"

"Brian, you just met Michael after two years, and you haven't met any of the others yet. Do you want to do that in front of a room full of people, at a party?"

Brian hesitated. He hadn't thought about it like that. He wondered how emotional that might be. Could he really handle all that? Brian shook his head.

"Do you see what I mean?" Justin asked.

"I guess so, but I still think I can handle it," Brian stated as much to convince himself as Justin.

"Fine," Justin said, "it's your decision."

"But," Brian said hastily, "there are some drama queens to contend with in all this."

"You mean besides you?" Justin asked with a smirk.

Brian snorted. "You'll know what I mean when you meet Emmett."

"I'd like to meet your friends, but a small dinner seems like a better way to do that than a party."

"Okay, I get the message," Brian said backing down. The more Justin talked the more Brian had to agree with his worries. "So, will you help me with a small dinner here, just for family members?"

"Deal," Justin said, "and if you want to have a party later on, I'll help you with that too."

"Come here, you," Brian said huskily.

Justin moved over to the man and slid onto his lap. "Are you all right with that?" he asked really concerned about Brian's feelings. The last thing he wanted to do was put a damper on Brian's wish to meet people and renew old ties.

"Justin knows best," Brian said with a little kiss to Justin's nose.

Justin wrinkled said nose and smiled at Brian. "You think I'm right?" he asked.

"I see no harm in taking this a little slower," Brian admitted. "It might have been a bit too much for my delicate sensibilities." Brian's tongue was planted solidly in his cheek.

"You are so full of shit," Justin giggled. "I just have your best interests at heart, you know."

"I know. I appreciate everything you have done for me."

"It means a lot to me to hear you say that."

"Then I guess I better feed you if I want to keep you around," Brian teased.

"And do you want to keep me around?" Justin stared into the hazel eyes.

"For a long, long time," Brian whispered.

Justin's radiant smile lit up the loft. Dinner was forgotten for a while.

Close to Home II

+ Six +

Plans for the dinner were progressing. Brian had called Michael and asked him to clear it with Deb for having the dinner at the loft instead of her place. Michael had said that Debbie was chomping at the bit to see him, but Brian had asked him to tell her and everybody else to wait until the dinner. He thought it would be better if he saw them all at once. That way he could get all the reunions over at the same time.

Justin tried to convince Brian that it was a bad idea to wait to see everyone. He wanted Brian to let at least Debbie come over first. Brian was adamant about getting it all over at the same time. One major spurt of emotion would be plenty as far as Brian was concerned. Justin was worried that it would overwhelm Brian, but he couldn't seem to convince the man of that without sounding way too negative. It was a bone of contention between them, but finally Justin backed off, in spite of whatever misgivings he had, and agreed to let Brian do things his own way.

Meanwhile they had talked about what to serve their guests. Since they didn't have a big table they decided it would be best to do it buffet style and then have everybody sit around in groups to chat while they ate.

Justin still had grave concerns about how the whole thing would go down, but he didn't want to push Brian too much. They got along really well most of the time and he wanted to keep it that way.

One morning a few days after Michael's visit with Brian, Justin was awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of a buzzer. He was in his own loft having left Brian's bed some time before midnight. He groaned as his foggy brain finally registered what the annoying noise was. He sat up and cursed as he left his nice warm bed to go to the intercom.

"What?" he demanded.

"Thank God," a female voice replied.

"Who is this?" Justin demanded frowning. It definitely wasn't any female voice that he recognized.

"Um … is this Justin Taylor?" the voice asked hesitantly.

"Yes, what do you want? Who are you?"

"My … my name is Debbie Novotny. I came here to see Brian Kinney, but he won't answer the buzzer … or I should say that as soon as he heard my voice he refused to let me in."

Justin grimaced. He had been afraid of something like this. "What do you want me to do about it?" Justin asked. He didn't like being caught in the middle.

"I was wondering … if you would let me in, so that I can go up to Brian's loft," she said sweetly.

"Obviously he doesn't want to talk to you."

"But that's the problem. What's going to happen at this fucking dinner if he can't even face me now?" she demanded. Justin could hear the frustration and near panic in her voice.

"Maybe you better come up," Justin said reluctantly. "I'm in 3A. Don't go to Brian's. We need to talk."

"Thanks," she said as he buzzed her in. He quickly went to put on some clothes.

A few minutes later there was a knock on his door. Justin was not prepared for what stood there. He knew that Debbie Novotny was Michael's mother and Brian's surrogate mother, but this woman didn't look like any mother he had ever seen before.

"Debbie?" he said tentatively. He wanted to be sure who he was talking to.

"That's me," she stated. "Aren't you just the cutest thing?" She cracked her gum and looked him up and down.

"Have a seat," Justin said. "Would you like some coffee?"

"I'd like to see Brian, is what I'd fucking like."

"I'm putting on some coffee," Justin said. "I need it even if you don't."

Justin went into the kitchen. He threw several furtive looks at Debbie as he made the coffee. He couldn't believe this was the woman that Brian thought so much of. He knew you weren't supposed to judge a book by its cover, but this was some cover. Then the thought hit him that if this was Brian's chosen mother, what the fuck must his actual mother be like? He shook his head not able to comprehend that thought.

While the coffee ran through Justin went back to the living room to talk to Debbie. "What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly. "Brian didn't want to see anybody until the dinner."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" Justin asked. Even though he didn't think it was a good idea either, he wanted to get Debbie's take on it.

"How well do you know Brian?" she asked.

"I'm getting to know him."

"You don't know what he was like before," she said looking at the floor.

"No, I suppose I don't, but what does that have to do with now?"

"Brian … Brian had a hard time growing up. His parents are…"

When Debbie hesitated, Justin said, "Assholes."

"More like fucking assholes. Has Brian told you about them?" Debbie asked. She was surprised that Brian would have confided much about his family. This kid must be something special. She looked at him through new eyes.

"Assholes is about the extent of the information I have," Justin admitted.

Debbie shrugged. "When Brian was having it hard at home, he would come to us. He was good at hiding what was really going on. We all suspected but could never prove … abuse."

"I thought as much," Justin frowned.

"Anyway, Brian became very good at facades. In fact he's a fucking expert at them. He built this asshole persona all his own. Fuck 'em once and throw them away, never show that you care about anyone. He was tall, handsome and everybody wanted him. He could do anything he wanted."

"And he did."

"Exactly. Until the accident. That … had to be the fucking worst thing that could have happened to Brian."

"He's said as much," Justin said softly.

"You probably wonder why we let him get away with shutting us out of his life," Debbie said looking into Justin's eyes.

"Yeah, it's pretty hard to imagine, since you all tell me how much Brian means to you."

"And that's why we let him do it. Every time we had to lift him or help him to the bathroom or clean up his mess or fucking straighten his bed, I could see another little piece of him die. He couldn't stand not being able to look after himself. But worse than that, he couldn't stand us seeing that he couldn't look after himself. All of his facades were gone. He tried to build new ones but they didn't work anymore. He was stripped bare and he couldn't stand it. So, when he told the hospital to keep us out, I let that happen. I told Michael to stay away. I told all of them to stay away. I … I was fucking terrified that if he kept having to face us, it would be the end of him. He would see that it ended. You understand what I'm saying?"

Justin nodded. He got up and went to the kitchen to get the coffee. He did understand what Debbie meant. One of his first encounters with Brian had been the day Brian tried to kill himself. Debbie obviously understood Brian pretty well. This concept of facades was something he hadn't thought about but it made perfect sense.

"So what are you doing here today?" Justin asked as he handed Debbie a mug.

"I was told to stay away," she said as she stirred her coffee.

"I know. I tried to convince Brian not to do that, but he wouldn't budge."

"Then you understand the danger of what might happen?"

Justin grimaced. Debbie was expressing his worst fears that everything would go horribly wrong at this dinner. He feared that Brian might be upset having so many people around all at once. He hadn't had anybody around for years. But the other fear was that Brian might break down, become openly emotional, let that façade of aloofness crack and break. That would destroy Brian all over again.

"I'm worried that he will become very emotional, and he hates public displays of emotion, especially his own."

"You're pretty fucking quick on the uptake," Debbie said with a grin.

"Thanks, but the question is how do we stop this potential catastrophe?"

"That's why I'm here."

"What are you planning to do?" Justin asked. He had no idea what Debbie had in mind.

"First I have to get in to see him," she said looking pointedly at Justin. He nodded. "And then I know I'm going to fucking blubber like a fucking idiot when I see him."

Justin smiled fondly at her. He could see that she really did love Brian. "And…?"

"And then he's fucking going to blubber right back."

"How do you know?"

"I've looked out for that little asshole since he was fourteen years old. I fucking know."

"And what will this display of emotion accomplish?"

"It will show Brian what's going to happen when he meets his old friends … and Vic. I'll tell him that each of us needs to see him separately first. We need to talk to him and tell him that we miss him. We need to do it privately, not in front of everybody. I want to be the first."

"I agree," Justin said.

"That's it? You agree. Well, what the fuck are we waiting for?"

"He's going to be royally pissed at you … and at me," Justin warned.

"I fucking know that, but it has to be done."

"Then let's go," Justin said getting up and heading for the door.

They took the stairs taking their time and thinking about how they were going to handle what lay ahead. At Brian's door Justin decided what he thought was the best way to play this out. "I'm going to knock and open the door," Justin said. "Then I'm running like hell. You're on your own."

"You're a fucking big help," Debbie said with a glower. "Save yourself. I'll take on the lion in his den."

Justin smiled trying to feel reassured that this was for the best. He sincerely hoped no one lay dead or dismembered after this was all over. He tapped on the door, pulled it back and beat a hasty retreat down the stairs.

"Hey, Sunshine," Brian called, "you're up early today."

When no reply came, Brian looked up from his computer. He turned towards the door and found Debbie standing in the opening not sure whether to proceed further into the loft or stay where she could make a quick getaway.

"Debbie?" Brian said his face trying to conceal the myriad of emotions that flowed across it.

"It's me, kiddo," she said softly.

"How did you get in?"

"Some blond kid…" she replied with a nervous laugh.

"I'll kill him."

"Don't do that," she said hastily. "Brian, you … you look good, honey."

Brian could hear the catch in her voice and it hit him right in the heart, his little used heart that had lately found something to love. He tried to think of a snappy answer but nothing came to mind. "You look … just the same," Brian managed to finally get out.

"Are you taking good care of yourself?" she asked taking a few more steps into the loft.

"I'm doing okay."

"I … I can't tell you what it meant to me when Michael told me he had seen you. We weren't even sure that you were … still alive."

"Takes a lot to kill me," Brian said with a shake of his head. Although, there had been a few times that it wouldn't have taken much. "Want to sit down?" Brian asked.

Debbie nodded and moved to the sofa. "I hear you have a son," she said with a smile. "Do you have any pictures?"

Brian swallowed and picked up the little album that Michael had looked through. He handed it to Debbie. She flipped it open and he watched her examine each picture running her fingers lightly over Gus' little face, making little oohs and ahs as she did so.

"He's beautiful, just like you," she said when she was finished.

Brian looked into her eyes and all the old memories came flooding back. Memories of Debbie wiping his eyes and bandaging his cuts, holding him when his ribs had been kicked in, lecturing him about being a man and making the right choices, chewing him out when he'd made some colossal mistake, beaming with pride when he accomplished something big … or something small, just being there when he needed her. He saw the same recognition in Debbie's eyes. He felt her heart reaching out to his and his reached back. Suddenly she was beside his chair holding his head against her ample stomach. She ran her fingers through his hair and whispered his name. And the tears flowed and flowed … from both of them. Brian held on to her as if his life depended on it, and sometimes his life had depended on Debbie.

"Mom," he whispered.

"My boy, my sweet boy," she repeated again and again.

They stayed like that for a long time. Thoughts and memories swirled through their minds as the emotions played out. Finally Brian pulled back, cleared his throat and brushed the remaining tears from his eyes.

"I … I don't know where that came from," he said softly.

"I do," Debbie replied. "It came from your heart … and mine. I missed you and you missed me."

"Maybe … just a bit," he replied with a touch of the smartass that she knew so well.

She swatted him on the arm and chuckled affectionately. "Asshole," she felt compelled to say.

Brian laughed at that familiar term. She had called him that so many times over the years, in frustration, in anger, in love.

"So," she said reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose. She handed him one too and he used it. "What do we do now?"

"You could start by telling me why you came here when I asked you not to."

"Still defiant after all these years," she said staring at him. "You know I never do what I'm told. Brian," she began with a more serious tone, "I knew this would be what would happen when I saw you, at least on my part. I didn't want to do that in public, and I thought maybe you wouldn't want that either."

"Yeah," was all he said.

"I love the idea that you want to have this dinner, but I really think you should see everybody separately first. We've missed you and want you back, but none of us wants to do this in front of everybody else."

Brian thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, sure, like Ted will break down as soon as he sees me," Brian said trying to make it sound like his usual sarcastic comments about Ted. It didn't come off quite the way he intended.

"He will, you know," Debbie told him.

Brian shook his head. "So you think I should postpone the dinner for a bit?" She nodded. "I guess it wouldn't hurt."

Debbie breathed a sigh of relief. He had understood. Her mission had been accomplished.

"Are you both still alive?" Justin asked from the still open doorway.

"Blond boy, get that exquisite ass of yours over here!" Brian ordered. "I am going to have to spank you so hard."

"Promises, promises, big man," Justin joked. He could tell Brian had recovered from all the emotion. He had listened from the stairwell until it was all over. Justin moved over to Brian leaning down and kissing Brian gently. The hazel eyes looked into his and then the asshole pinched his ass … hard. "Ow, you son of a bitch," Justin reacted swatting Brian hard on the arm.

Debbie giggled watching the interaction. She was pretty sure Brian had met his match in Justin. That boy sure as fuck didn't back down. She couldn't imagine anyone who would be better for Brian than Justin. "Is that my cue to leave?" Debbie asked with a chuckle.

"Some people just have no manners," Brian stated giving Justin the raised eyebrow treatment.

"And we all know who that is," Justin replied eyeing Brian.

"Vic would really love to see you," Debbie said. "Can I send him over?"

"Tomorrow, Deb," Brian asked.

She could tell that he had had enough for one day. "Shall I send one a day, like the vitamins?"

"My daily dose of family and friends. Cure's what ails ya, if it doesn't kill ya," Brian scoffed.

"And you be nice to them," Debbie warned as she headed for the door. "And reschedule that dinner. I've never been to a civilized party in the loft. I want to experience everything at least once in my life."

"Debbie," Brian said catching her in the doorway. "Thanks."

She nodded and disappeared from view.

"Are you okay?" Justin asked touching Brian's shoulder.

"I think so."

"Was it bad?" Justin asked trying to get Brian to talk about it. He had heard it all from the stairwell.

"It was … okay," Brian said. "Besides, you heard it all, didn't you?"

"You knew I was listening?" Justin asked in disbelief.

"Not till you walked through the door at the most a propos moment."

"I just wanted to be sure I was handy if you needed me."

"Of course," Brian said sticking his tongue in his cheek.

"I mean it."

"I know you do," Brian admitted pulling Justin down for a kiss. "And you were right."

"About…?"

"I wouldn't have wanted to do that in front of everybody," Brian said cautiously.

Justin knew Brian's emotions were still pretty close to the surface. "See, Justin does know best."

"I'll never doubt it again," Brian said with a mock solemn face. "I think Debbie's right too. I'm going to see them individually. Can we put off the dinner for a bit?"

"Not a problem."

"Are you ready for your spanking now?" Brian asked with a smirk.

"You were kidding, right?" Justin asked his eyes very big.

"I never kid about spankings."

"I have a feeling I should run," Justin giggled.

"I'd never catch you. We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Justin giggled more. "Maybe not. I haven't been spanked since I was three."

"I promise this will be nothing like that spanking," Brian said his voice getting husky.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Justin asked staring at Brian and feeling his cock get hard just at the thought.

"For you to shut the fucking door."

"Oh."

Justin moved to comply with Brian's request. He hauled the door across with a little flicker of trepidation. They had never done anything like this. He wondered if he would like it. His cock was telling him that he would. He turned back to Brian with his sunshine smile.

Close to Home II

+ Seven +

Vic Grassi released Brian from the hug he had held him in for several minutes. Each man wiped at their eyes and looked slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm so glad to see you," Vic said after a bit. "You look good."

"So do you," Brian replied. He could feel his heart stop pounding out of his chest and start to pump at a more normal rate. This reunion business was a fucking lot harder than he thought it was going to be. "I heard you were pretty sick."

"Ach," Vic dismissed Brian's concern. "We're survivors, you and I. Are you coping better now?" Vic then asked.

"Yeah."

"But you never get used to it, do you?"

Brian shook his head. "I hate every fucking minute of being in this fucking chair."

"I understand," Vic replied, and Vic did understand. He had his own "chair" to deal with. "Deb was so happy to see you yesterday. She was walking on clouds when she came home."

"I owe her … and you a lot," Brian said.

Vic just nodded not saying anything more. "She told me about a certain blond boy that she met here," Vic said with a mischievous grin.

"Justin," Brian replied with a smile.

Vic watched Brian's face. He could tell that the man had found someone special in this Justin. He hoped to meet him soon. Vic wanted to see the man who had tamed the mighty Kinney, even in his weakened state.

They spent about an hour reminiscing and catching up. Vic could always make Brian laugh, and Brian's escapades had been a source of vicarious thrills for Vic since his HIV status had seriously limited what he could do. Brian didn't have any of his usual escapades with which to regale Vic, but he told him about Gus' birth and the coincidence of his internet contact living just downstairs.

When Vic got ready to leave he turned to Brian and said, "You know, Brian, we could have been having a chat like this two years ago. That's a lot of time to waste."

"I know that now, but back then it wasn't possible. You're wrong about us having this conversation. I wasn't capable of talking civilly to anybody. I was so full of anger and hate. Nobody would have wanted to be around me, and therefore, they weren't." Brian shrugged his shoulders at the fait accompli he had orchestrated.

"I'll take your word for that," Vic said slowly, "but let's not waste any more time."

"I have a reason to live now," Brian said softly. "I don't want to waste another minute."

"You're a lucky man. I hope you appreciate that."

"And I never fucking thought I would agree with you, with anybody, on that point, but I do."

"I'll be looking forward to that dinner in the loft," Vic said with a big grin. "I might even bake a cake."

"This was nice, Vic."

Vic nodded and left. They had said everything they needed to say.

-----

Brian sat with the curtain pulled back staring out at the rooftops that he could see from his window in the loft. Theodore Schmidt had just left. It had been interesting.

He had always known that Ted envied him, wanted to be him, but then again way back when, everyone wanted to be him. Brian recalled the sadness in Ted's eyes when he had entered the loft earlier. Brian had felt pity radiate from the man and that made him angry. But then he had felt something else, compassion and loss. It had taken him a bit to realize what was going on, but then it hit him. It was almost like when Christopher Reeve died and Brian had lost hope of ever having a normal life. Seeing Brian still in the

wheelchair had somehow been the same sort of thing for Ted. Ted's idealistic vision of Brian had been lost, and it was sad for both of them.

Of course they didn't speak of any of this, but they both knew. They had, instead, made small talk and had caught up on what each other was doing careerwise. Like Ted had a career, stuck at Wertschafter's for the rest of his fucking life. The man was so pathetic, and he didn't even realize it. Although, maybe he did, and that was why he was always so sad and self-deprecating.

Brian had felt the emotion that swirled around them. But neither of them had given in to it. They had been stoic and civil and had even joked with each other. In some ways this had been the easiest of the reunion moments. And also the hardest, because it was all surface, just like the old days when Ted was the butt of Brian's jokes, and he always had some smart critical remark to make about Brian or his actions.

They shook hands when Ted was leaving. He had expected a hug, but they hadn't been able to get to that point. They were still playing the game, like everything was as it used to be. And they fucking knew that nothing was the same, and never would be again.

Brian turned from the window and propelled himself over to his computer. It was still early. Ted had come to see him before going to work. Brian decided he should leave an e-mail for Justin.

Hey BB,

It's only eight-thirty in the morning and I've had an interesting day already.

Ted just left. You'll have to meet him. He's … different. I don't quite know what to say about our meeting. We chatted. Said nothing. And he left. But it disturbed me. Ted doesn't seem to have changed, and I guess I have. I felt …funny around him. I wonder if it will be like that with Emmett too. This reunion business is exhausting. I'm going to do my exercises and take a nap.

Come up when you can.

PP

-----

When Justin arrived at the loft for dinner, he wondered what state Brian would be in. Emmett was supposed to have visited in the afternoon, thus finishing the "family" reunions. Justin pulled open the loft door and not seeing Brian, he called the man's name.

"I'm up here," Brian said rolling out of the bathroom.

"All done with the meetings with old friends," Justin said cheerily.

"Emmett never arrived."

"He didn't come?" Justin asked. "That's strange."

"Emmett was never the most reliable person," Brian said with a shake of his head. "Actually, I take that back," he added with a frown. Justin looked questioningly at him. "At first look, Emmett would appear to be a flaming flake, but that's not really who he is."

"Who is he?" Justin asked getting the food out for dinner.

"That's a hard one to answer. Emmett can be fierce. He's a very proud man and he feels things … intensely. I think that's why we were never closer. I couldn't take his intensity. I found it embarrassing."

Justin nodded knowingly. He could understand how the Brian he first met and the one he was before the accident might find intense emotion very disconcerting. He seemed to deny there was any such thing. "So what do you think happened to Emmett? Why didn't he show?"

Brian shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't want anything to do with a cripple."

"Brian," Justin said with a warning in his voice.

"I don't know," Brian admitted, "but I'm not going to worry about it."

"Good, then help me make the salad," Justin commanded.

Brian rolled over to the kitchen and commenced chopping. He would never admit it to Justin but he actually liked being in the kitchen, as long as Justin was there. They could make their dinner together and talk and joke around. Brian had begun to find this time the most enjoyable part of the day, well, almost.

"What the fuck put that goofy look on your face?" Justin asked with a smile as he surveyed Brian with knife poised and a happy grin on his face. "Contemplating murder and dismemberment?"

"I was thinking about something."

"Well, that sure as shit answers my question?" Justin snarked.

"I …" Brian started to say something.

Just then the buzzer went off. Justin moved to the door to answer it.

"Yes?" he said into the intercom.

"Brian?" a strange voice inquired.

"No, it's not Brian. Who's this?"

"Um … I think I have the wrong apartment," the voice said hesitantly.

Brian had moved over to where Justin stood. "Emmett, is that you?"

"Um … yes."

"Aren't you sure?" Brian demanded with a chuckle.

"I'm sure who I am. I'm just not sure who you are and whether or not I should come up," Emmett said in his breathy, somewhat agitated voice.

"You haven't been invited up yet," Brian responded. "You were supposed to be here two and a half fucking hours ago."

"Still a stickler about time," Emmett's voice responded teasingly.

"Stickler about time? I was always late."

A loud snort could be heard over the intercom. "Fashionably so, or so you always told us. Or else something had come up, and we all knew what part of the anatomy that was."

"Fuck, Emmett, if you're going to talk dirty, get up here." Brian pushed the button to release the door.

Justin had watched and listened to the exchange in fascination. Emmett didn't seem to hesitate to call Brian on his shit, but he had seemed very reluctant to come face to face with the man. Justin had to wonder what was going on.

"Do you want me to get out of the way?" Justin asked. "Dinner can wait."

"No, stay," Brian said. "Emmett missed his moment of privacy by being so late."

"I was thinking about your privacy," Justin said truthfully.

"I want you here. Besides you shouldn't miss an opportunity to meet Mr. Emmett Honeycutt."

"If you say so," Justin said going back to the kitchen to assemble dinner.

Brian pulled back the loft door as the elevator came into sight. Brian could see Emmett through the bars of the gate. He looked the same. Brian backed up his chair leaving lots of room for Emmett to come into the loft. He wasn't sure how this encounter was going to play out.

Emmett stepped through the door looking very uncomfortable to be there. "Brian," he said formally with a nod of his head.

"What bug got up your ass?" Brian asked bluntly not sure what to make of this Emmett.

Emmett looked reproachfully at Brian, but then seemed to change his mind. "Who was that on the intercom?" Emmett asked looking around.

Justin waved from behind the counter where he was getting the chicken and vegetables ready to go in the oven.

"That's Justin," Brian said proudly.

"Oh," Emmett reacted. "He's a cutie pie. Does he live here?"

"No, he doesn't. Not yet," Brian said with a grin towards Justin. Justin looked flustered. They had never even talked about actually living together. "Justin Taylor, come meet Emmett Honeycutt."

Justin dried his hands on a towel. He and Emmett walked towards each other meeting at the corner of the counter.

"What are you making?" Emmett asked as he shook Justin's hand. He looked at what Justin was about to pop in the oven.

"Chicken breasts and roast vegetables," Justin said.

"A little dab of butter on each breast and a splash of rosemary really ups the flavor."

"Thanks," Justin said not sure he wanted to be told how to cook his own dinner. "I already used basil on it."

"I hope you don't mind me suggesting that. I'm in the party planning business," he said proudly.

"I'll try anything … once," Justin said sprinkling rosemary over his chicken and adding a dab of butter to each breast.

"I thought Michael said you were still working at Torso," Brian interjected. Emmett had hardly spoken to him since he arrived.

"I am, but I have two parties this week and things are looking up. I'm hoping to quit Torso soon."

"Emmett," Brian said, "is something wrong?"

"Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?"

"Obviously something is," Brian said staring at the man in his fuzzy jacket and skintight red jeans. "Why don't you take off your coat and tell me what the fuck is going on?"

"I don't think I'll be staying that long," Emmett retorted. When Brian said nothing, just stared at him, Emmett added, "I probably shouldn't have come."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because … because…" Emmett hesitated.

"You've never been one to beat around the bush," Brian stated.

"Bush! Eww!" Emmett reacted.

"Emmett," Brian said in a tone that made it clear he had had about enough.

"I feel like I'm in a 'B' movie," Emmett said and then took a deep breath as Brian glared at him. "A bad 'B' movie, and I'm not going to cry." He sucked another breath as Brian and Justin waited. "I am so fucking mad at you for locking us out of your life. I swore I would never speak to you again. That's why I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here." Brian opened his mouth, but Emmett raised his hand to stop him. He wasn't finished and he was going to get it all out. The man had asked for it. "I think you treated your friends in a … a disgustingly shabby manner … and then … and then we did the same thing to you." Emmett plowed ahead. "I can never forgive myself for abandoning you. I came here to the loft many times looking for you, but there never seemed to be anybody home, and we didn't know where you had gone. Finally I gave up on you, and I'm so sorry." Emmett was doing his best to keep the tears from escaping.

"Emmett, it's not your fault. That was the way I wanted it. The way things were, back then, I couldn't handle any more people, or TLC, or fucking pity. I had to get away. I didn't want to deal with … anybody."

"Couldn't you have fucking told us that instead of just refusing to even talk to us, having us banned from the hospital, fucking disappearing on us?"

"I … I guess I should be the one apologizing," Brian admitted.

"Well?" Emmett said standing with his arms crossed and waiting for the aforementioned apology to be uttered. The tears were firmly banished.

Brian looked for a moment like he was ready to kill his former friend. Then slowly he released a breath and said, "I'm sorry."

"Omigod! Omigod!" Emmett wailed. "Teddy was right. You have changed."

"Of course I've changed. Everything's fucking different."

"Teddy was so upset after he saw you," Emmett began spilling his guts. "He thinks his idol has vanished … and maybe he has."

"Idol? I'm nobody's fucking idol."

"Humph," Emmett snorted knowing many people who had idolized Brian Kinney, the stud of Liberty Avenue. He decided it was maybe best to let that one go. "I should probably leave," he said heading towards the door.

"Is it that hard to be around me? You just got here," Brian said.

"No, no, that's not it. I thought you would want to get rid of me after what I said, and keeping you waiting so long."

"Take off that fucking coat and sit down," Brian ordered.

"My, my," Emmett cooed, "masterful as ever." He removed his coat and hung it by the door.

"Would you like a drink?" Brian asked.

"I'd love a cosmo."

"That fucking shit! I don't think we have the makings."

"Yes, we do," Justin volunteered. "I bought some cranberry juice yesterday."

"Ooh, a man after my own heart. Let me help you make them, sweetie," Emmett said moving behind the counter and checking out the ingredients. "I make a dynamite cosmo."

"Want one Brian?" Justin asked.

"Fuck no! I'll have a beer."

Both Justin and Emmett chuckled quietly. "Some things never change," Emmett said with a nod of his head. He began assembling the cosmos as Justin took Brian a beer. When Justin returned Emmett had just about finished the drinks.

"Those look good," Justin said. Emmett handed him one and Justin took a sip. "Yummy," Justin said.

They heard a loud snort from the living room.

"Shouldn't you be talking to him?" Justin asked.

"I don't know what to say to him," Emmett whispered. "He isn't the same Brian."

"He's not so different. Just be natural with him."

"I'm hardly 'natural' about anything," Emmett giggled. "I'm a little uncomfortable around him."

"Would you two princesses stop whispering," Brian demanded. "If you're going to talk about me, do it in front of my fucking face."

"I was saying that I don't quite know how to talk to you," Emmett stated deciding to take the bull by the horns, so to speak.

"You open your mouth, force air through and words come out, not necessarily sensible ones, however," Brian explained in that voice that proclaimed he was speaking to someone dumber than dishwater.

Emmett choked on his cosmo. "Some things haven't changed."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Brian asked out of the blue. "We have enough, don't we, Justin?"

"With what you eat, we've got plenty," Justin replied. "Say yes," he mouthed to Emmett.

"I don't believe I've ever been asked to dinner at the loft. I'd love to stay."

"You've never had dinner here?" Justin asked Emmett.

"Brian wasn't exactly the dinner party type."

Justin looked over at Brian who merely shrugged. "It seems there are still a lot of things I need to learn about Mr. Kinney."

"And a lot that you should leave untouched," Emmett admonished with a little giggle.

"Oh, like what?" Justin asked.

"Emmett, shut the fuck up," Brian interjected.

"If I'm not allowed to talk, then why am I staying?" Emmett declared.

A loud groan came from Brian knowing that he had lost this battle. Justin would never allow him to drive Emmett away until he had gained all the information he wanted from their guest.

They had an amiable dinner after all. Emmett complimented Justin on his cooking and they polished off a couple of bottles of wine. The earlier tensions seemed to be forgotten, as Justin probed Emmett about Brian's earlier life. Brian even contributed some sarcastic remarks about his past lifestyle, and they were all able to laugh at them.

When Emmett was ready to leave, he leaned down and hugged Brian affectionately. "I'm so glad I decided to come see you. I almost didn't," he said rather tearily.

"I … I'm glad to get reacquainted," Brian admitted. "But I can't say you've changed very much."

Emmett raised an eyebrow. "Unlike some of us," he said looking into Brian's eyes.

"Hopefully for the better," Brian replied.

"Definitely for the better," Emmett cooed. "And methinks you have this fine, and I do mean fine, young man to thank for it."

"Back off, Honeycutt," Brian growled. "He's mine."

Justin smiled and leaned down to give Brian a kiss. "And I wouldn't have it any other way," Justin stated.

"Well, if you need help with your little soiree, just give me a call," Emmett said handing Justin one of his cards.

"I might take you up on that."

"Ta, ta," Emmett called as he headed down the stairs.

"That was … interesting," Justin said with a chuckle as he closed the loft door.

"Emmett Honeycutt is an acquired taste."

"Well, I like him. He seems very … genuine," Justin said thoughtfully.

"In a genuine flaming queen sort of way," Brian said affectionately, "and he is a good friend."

"Absolutely," Justin agreed as he leaned in for another kiss.

Close to Home II

+ Eight +

"Justin … oh, Justin," Brian singsonged close to Justin's ear.

The blond turned over and batted at the annoyance.

"Justin," Brian cooed his hand sliding in under the duvet and finding Justin's cock.

Justin wriggled around and let out a tiny mewl.

"Justin," Brian persisted a wicked grin on his face.

Justin shifted slightly and moaned. Brian's hand slid up and down his length.

"Justin," Brian said once more using his best sex-filled voice.

"Hunh," Justin replied his eyes fluttering open. He felt Brian's hand on his dick and Brian's warm breath at his ear. He opened his eyes further and glanced at the smirk on Brian's face. "Fuck!" he reacted. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing," Brian said with a grin.

"Get some toys of your own," Justin griped pulling Brian's hand off his now rigid dick.

"I like these toys," Brian grinned.

"What the fuck time is it?"

"Seven in the morning. We fell asleep and you forgot to go home."

"Shit! Why couldn't you just let me fucking sleep?" Justin asked snuggling down into the covers.

"I need to do my exercises," Brian explained. "I thought you would prefer me awakening my sleeping beauty with a hand job, instead of me clanking around with my weights."

"How fucking considerate of you? Why did you have to do either?"

"I do have a routine that I follow," Brian said feeling that he was being blamed for something that wasn't his fault. Justin obviously didn't know how important his routine was.

"Fuck the routine. I want to sleep."

"Then go the fuck home," Brian said rolling over and grabbing the bar above the bed so that he could hoist himself into his chair.

"You are one annoying son of a bitch. You fuck me till I drop, and then you don't have the decency to let me get a good night's sleep."

"You've been asleep for hours," Brian protested.

"And I need hours more, so piss off."

"Justin," Brian said ominously.

Somewhere in the back of Justin's sleepy mind, he realized that this was Brian's house, not his own. "Fine," he said tossing aside the duvet. "I'm leaving. Enjoy your loft. Enjoy your exercises. Enjoy jerking off because, big boy, you'll get nothing from me." By this time Justin had pulled on his jeans. "Ta, ta, to quote Emmett," he called as he yanked back the loft door. "Asshole," was his parting shot.

"Try not to get any cheerier in the morning. I won't be able to stand it," Brian yelled as the loft door clanged shut behind the fine piece of ass. "Fuck! That went well." Brian shook his head as he glided down the ramp from the bedroom. He might as well get his exercises out of the way. There wouldn't be any other kind of exercises for quite a while, if Justin's attitude held.

Some time later Brian had finished his morning routine of exercises and was freshly showered. He felt energized. He hadn't felt that way for so long … ever since the accident. That is, until the delectable blond downstairs had come into his life. Everything had changed with Justin's arrival. Brian smiled at the thought. Even stuck in his fucking chair, life was pretty good. He rolled over to the computer.

Morning BB,

Or it will probably be afternoon by the time you read this. I'm sorry I woke you, but I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. What could be so bad about waking up to a handjob, especially when it isn't your own hand?

Anyway, when you get this, I have a request. I'd like to go see Gus today. Would you like to go with me? I enjoy your company, and it gives me someone else to talk to besides Gus and the munchers. You know!

PP

Brian decided he might as well do some work. It would be a while before he had any hope of receiving a reply from his cranky lover on the floor below. He was about to turn away when the computer pinged indicating an e-mail. He clicked on it and a big smile crossed his face at least for a fleeting moment. He read:

PP,

That should stand for "positively pissed" because that's what I am. You wake me up, kick me out and then want a favor. You have some colossal nerve! If I didn't like you so much, I'd tell you to go fuck yourself, but I'd rather do that myself.

As you can see it's not afternoon. I couldn't fucking get back to sleep, so I've been painting. Got some great stuff done too. You'll have to come down and see what I've been doing. I think you'll like it.

As for going to see Gus, I'd love to. He's such a sweet little boy. What time do you want to go?

BB

Brian decided he better answer right away, because Justin didn't sound too pissed with him at the moment.

BB,

Come up when you are ready to go see Gus. I'll call the munchers and tell them we'll be there this afternoon.

Don't stop painting if things are going good. I know you should take advantage of the muse when it strikes. We can go when you want to take a break.

Thanks for being so gracious after my rude and insensitive actions this morning.

PP

Brian smiled to himself at that last line. He hoped Justin would see the humor in it and they could put the morning grumbles behind them. He really needed to do something about their living arrangements.

PP,

Does that stand for partial a "pology"?

You are incorrigible. I have no idea why I let you get away with stuff, but I don't seem to be able to help myself.

I'll be up around one. I should be ready to take a break by then.

Later, BB.

Brian smiled. Justin almost always made him smile, except when he was grumpy in the morning. And even then, Justin's grouchiness could elicit a smile from Brian. He was so … loveable.

Shit! He was going to visit the munchers and here he was thinking like one. He shook his head, or maybe it was an involuntary shudder at the thought. He needed to get to work.

-----

Brian sat in his wheelchair, his son cradled in his arms. Gus had been up for a while and was starting to get tired, ready for his nap. The eyes, so much like his father's, looked up into Brian's face. The baby gurgled and then the eyes slowly closed. Brian swayed slightly in his chair, gently rocking the precious little body he held. It never ceased to amaze him, the feelings that would overwhelm him when he held his son.

"Is he asleep?" Lindsay asked softly as she came in from the kitchen. Justin and Lindsay had been talking in the kitchen while Brian had some time alone with his son in the living room.

Brian nodded and handed the little bundle to his mother. She made her way upstairs to put Gus in his crib for his afternoon nap. When she returned, Brian was still sitting in the same spot. Justin must still be in the kitchen.

"Brian, is everything all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, just thinking."

"Want to join us in the kitchen?"

"In a minute. You go ahead," he said. He had been thinking about how to propose to Justin that they find a house together or at least a bigger apartment where they could have some privacy. He didn't like having to wake up a grouchy Justin in the morning, but he liked the thought of not sleeping with Justin every night even less.

When he finally hauled himself into the kitchen Justin was finishing up a sketch of Lindsay. Brian could tell they had been having a chat about art. Justin always looked a certain way when he was fully immersed in the art scene. That was when he was most animated and alive, except of course when he was being well and thoroughly fucked.

"So what are you two cooking up?" Brian asked.

"Lindsay's going to come see my latest pieces on Thursday. She's going to bring Gus, so I suggested that we all have lunch at my place. Okay with you?"

Brian was about to make some comment that he didn't like having his life planned for him; he might just be busy, but he bit his tongue. He realized he wanted to have lunch with Justin and Lindsay and his son. There was no reason to be snarky about it.

"That sounds fine," he said instead.

"Good, you can see my latest work at the same time," Justin said with a smile.

"Don't I get a private viewing?" Brian said tongue in cheek.

"Anytime, big guy," Justin cooed back at him. Brian felt his groin tighten and then a pain ripped through his abdomen. He sucked in a breath and tried not to moan.

Lindsay cleared her throat. "Should I go check on Gus?" she asked with a chuckle.

"No," Brian said trying to keep his voice normal. "We should be going anyway. I'm glad you're coming for lunch … if the artist is up by noon, that is," Brian said pointedly. The pain was subsiding. He would be fine. However, he reminded himself, this wasn't the first time he had had abdominal discomfort in the last week. He should go see Dr. Johansen … maybe tomorrow.

Justin scowled. "I'll be up," Justin said testily.

"Is there a problem?" Lindsay asked watching the interaction.

"Justin isn't much of a morning person," Brian explained, the pain now completely gone.

"Is that causing problems?" Lindsay wanted to know.

"We're going to have to make some other arrangements," Brian said staring into Justin's eyes.

Justin felt his heart leap. He wondered what Brian meant. He knew what he wanted Brian's words to mean, but he wasn't sure he and Brian were on the same page.

"Let's get going," Justin said as he gathered up his sketchbook and pencils. They needed to discuss this in private.

-----

"Do you want to stop somewhere, have a coffee and talk?" Justin asked as Brian drove away from Lindsay's in his van.

"I need to get home," Brian said brusquely.

"Oh, okay," Justin shrugged. "We can talk there."

"I … I …" Brian took in a deep breath and a grimace passed over his face.

"If this is about changing our living arrangements," Justin said with a chuckle, "I hope our discussion isn't going to be as painful as the expression on your face would indicate."

Brian let out a soft moan and the look of pain on his face increased. Justin noticed beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Brian, are you all right?" Justin asked looking more carefully at the man.

Brian shook his head. "I … I think we better go to the hospital," Brian managed to choke out. "Something's wrong."

"Can you drive?" Justin asked knowing that he could never drive the van, aside from the fact that there was no seat for the driver to sit in. He suddenly felt very helpless.

"I think I can make it," Brian whispered. "The pain is subsiding a little."

"Pain? Where do you have pain?"

"Abdomen."

"Do you know what's wrong?" Justin asked.

"Might be my bladder," Brian gasped as another wave of pain claimed him.

Justin grabbed the steering wheel making sure they stayed on the road until the wave of pain subsided. "We're almost there," Justin said. "Pull into emergency and I'll get help."

Brian nodded trying to hold on until he got the van into a parking place and Justin leapt out. By the time Justin returned with an orderly Brian was slumped over the steering wheel in more pain than ever. The orderly was able to unlock Brian's chair and he was quickly wheeled inside.

The triage nurse started with her questions and Brian managed to give his doctor's name. He said that he thought it might be his bladder. He had been having some trouble keeping on schedule and had not been eating his regular food. Justin listened intently to this thinking about all the food he had prepared without ever considering that it might not be good for Brian. They had had a lot of takeout over the last few weeks too. He had made Brian eat pizza several times, and then there was the spicy Thai food and Italian with all that cheese and rich sauces. How could he have been so stupid, so thoughtless?

When Brian doubled over in pain once again the nurse called the orderly to take Brian back to a cubicle. Justin was allowed to go with him. They waited for what seemed like forever. Finally the emergency room doctor came in after Brian had had another bout of severe pain. He gave Brian a shot of something to relieve the pain and said that Brian's doctor was in the hospital and was coming down.

The shot seemed to be a big relief to Brian. He started to look and feel better as he had no more severe pain. After about twenty minutes another doctor arrived.

"Dr. Johansen," Brian said with relief as he looked at the tall man with slightly graying hair.

"And what have you been up to, young man?" the doctor asked as he took Brian's vitals once again. "I thought we had a pact not to meet like this until you were at least seventy-five."

"Sorry, Doc," Brian said with a crooked grin. "I couldn't hold up my end of the bargain."

"It says on your chart that you thought it might be your bladder."

"I … I …" Brian looked over at Justin. He wasn't sure that he wanted to discuss this in front of Justin.

"If you want me to leave, I will," Justin said. "But I'd like to stay if there's information that I should know about."

"Doc, this is Justin Taylor. We've been … seeing a lot of each other lately."

"Nice to meet you, Justin," Dr. Johansen said shaking Justin's hand. "Do you want to discuss this in private?" he asked looking over at Brian.

"Maybe Justin should stay," Brian said. He felt Justin's fingers slide in between his own and squeeze to give him reassurance. That gave him the strength to continue. He knew Justin wouldn't run out on him, at least not yet. "I've been having some trouble urinating," he admitted, and Justin could see Brian's embarrassment at discussing this in front of him. He was about to volunteer once again to leave when Brian added, "I think I've gotten too far off my schedule and have been eating the wrong things."

Justin groaned. "It's all that takeout and spicy food I've been serving you."

"It's not your fault," Brian said quickly. "I know what's good for me. I could have told you no, but I thought I was handling it."

"It's not spicy food per se, Justin," the doctor explained. "It might be too much milk and milk products."

"Like cheese and sauces?" Justin asked.

"That certainly doesn't help."

"Shit!" Justin reacted.

"And if you're having trouble voiding?" Brian nodded. "If you're not eliminating properly and urine is sitting in the bladder… Have you been keeping up your intake of fluids?"

"Probably not as much as I should have," Brian admitted.

"Then I would say from your symptoms that we either have a case of bladder stones or possibly an infection. I'm going to send you for an ultrasound so we can see what's in there. And I'll send in a technician to draw blood and get a urine sample so we can check out the infection."

"Okay," Brian agreed.

"I had no idea I needed to be careful about Brian's food," Justin said shaking his head.

"He should have told you," the doctor said pointedly looking at Brian. "Paraplegics can have many complications from their condition. Brian is very lucky that he has been able to train his bladder and bowels to void. Otherwise he would be on catheters all the time, and they present even more possibilities for infection. But he must maintain a certain diet and a constant routine. If he hasn't been doing that, it's no wonder he's in trouble."

"I'm so sorry," Justin said looking from the doctor to Brian.

"Let's hope we've caught this soon enough," Dr. Johansen said. "I can give you some literature about what you need to do for food, drink and routine." Justin nodded his thanks. "Let's get these tests underway and see what we're actually dealing with."

Dr. Johansen left the room to be replaced almost immediately with a technician who drew Brian's blood. Justin held on to Brian's hand wanting to talk but not knowing what to say. He felt so guilty about his part in all this.

An orderly arrived and wheeled Brian down to ultrasound. Justin was told he would have to wait in the cubicle until Brian returned. Alone in the small space Justin felt tears behind his eyes. He had been so stupid treating Brian like he was absolutely normal, when clearly he wasn't. He should have thought about the consequences of being in a wheelchair, but Brian made it seem so natural, and most of the time he forgot about the damn thing. Justin decided he would do some serious reading about the implications of being confined to a wheelchair. He owed that to Brian and to any possible future they might have together. He would read the pamphlets that Dr. Johansen had said he would provide. He would start to make better choices for both of them, if Brian still wanted him around.

By the time Brian returned Justin had worked himself into quite a state of worry and frustration and fear. Brian looked at him glumly as they wheeled him in.

"What happened?" Justin asked.

"Had the ultrasound. Now we wait," Brian said without any enthusiasm.

"Did they say anything?"

"The technicians aren't supposed to comment."

"So you know nothing more."

Brian shook his head. "If you want to go home … and paint, that's fine," he said looking at the floor not at Justin. "I'll be all right. Who knows how long it will take for the results."

"Do you want me to go?" Justin asked softly. He wondered if this was Brian's way of gently forcing him out of his life. Maybe Brian thought he would be better off without him. Then Brian would be able to follow his routines and schedules and eating habits. He wouldn't have anybody pushing him to do things he didn't want to do, and to eat things that were bad for him. Maybe everything he had tried to do for Brian had been a big mistake, and now Brian realized it too, and was pushing him away.

Brian stared into the blue eyes. Justin had no idea what Brian had gone through all those months ago, the rehab and the training and the endless adjustments to every part of his life. Maybe it would be best if they ended this now before they got in so deep they would both be hurt. The only problem with that was that Brian was already in too deep. He had banked everything on this young man, and he hadn't been so happy in such a long time. There was no way he could let Justin go. Even if it was selfish on his part, he knew he needed Justin, needed him profoundly and deeply and totally.

"I don't want you to go," Brian whispered. "I never want you to go."

Justin leaned in and kissed Brian softly and tenderly. "Then I'm here for the long haul," he whispered back as the tears started to flow from both of them.

Close to Home II

+ Nine +

Justin lay in Brian's bed looking at the man sleeping beside him. They had finally come home from the hospital after waiting for what seemed like hours and hours for the results of the ultrasound and blood tests. The results had not been good, but they could have been a lot worse.

Dr. Johansen had finally returned to tell them that Brian had cystitis, an inflammation of the bladder, and he had two small bladder stones, one of which was lodged in the top of the urethra and that was what was causing the pain and Brian's inability to void completely. Brian was on an antibiotic to reduce the inflammation and prevent more bacteria from invading the bladder. There was a possibility that Brian could pass the stone, which was small and might be reduced in size by another drug they had injected. Passing the stone would be painful, but also the most non-invasive way of dealing with the problem.

Justin still felt like he had majorly let Brian down. He should have been more careful about what they did and ate. He shouldn't have been so grumpy in the morning. He now understood Brian's need to do his exercises. They were a large part of keeping his body functioning properly, and Justin had given him a hard time about it.

When they had finally returned from the hospital, Brian was exhausted. He was feeling a little strange from the drugs he had been given and he immediately went to lie down. He was asleep within five minutes. Justin had lain down with him to make sure he was okay and to help if he was needed.

Justin sat up. He should go get a few things from his loft. He was going to stay the night with Brian. He wouldn't let the man down again. He slid off the bed and watched Brian to make sure that he was sleeping peacefully. He went down to the kitchen and looked to see what was in the refrigerator. He knew he had some pork chops and fresh vegetables in his fridge. He decided to go get them and a change of clothes that he could have for the next morning.

When Justin returned not ten minutes later, he glanced into the bedroom and saw an empty bed. "No!" he yelled as he raced up the ramp. "Brian?" he called looking around panic starting to set in.

"In here," Brian croaked from the bathroom.

Justin raced into the bathroom. Brian was slumped in his chair sweat covering his forehead and looking pale and sick.

"What the fuck happened?" Justin asked kneeling down beside him. "I was only gone for a minute." He felt tears well up. He was such a fuck-up. He couldn't do anything right. He had been AWOL once again when Brian needed him.

"I think I passed the fucking stone," Brian groaned. "It hurt like a motherfucker."

"Are you okay? Should I call the doctor?"

"No, no," Brian groaned. "I think the worst is over. The doctor said it would hurt. Fuck, it hurt! Did I tell you that it hurt like a motherfucker?" Brian asked.

"Yes, I heard you," Justin said standing up and wetting a facecloth under the tap. He used it to wipe Brian's brow. He ran it under the cool water again and applied it to Brian's forehead. Brian was starting to look a little more like himself. "I bet it hurt like a motherfucker," Justin added with a chuckle.

"You fucking think this is funny?" Brian demanded.

"No, no, I just thought that you were feeling a little better. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me."

"Me too."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"For now. Don't forget there's another fucking stone still in there," Brian said starting to regain some of his color and a more normal voice.

"And I bet it'll hurt like a motherfucker when it decides to come out."

"When I feel better I'm going to spank that little ass of yours," Brian threatened.

"Hey, it's not so little."

Brian chuckled. "Get me out of here. I hate that fucking urinal."

Brian seemed to be regaining his control. Justin wheeled him down to the living room. "Are you hungry?" Justin asked. It was almost eight o'clock, a long time since lunch.

"Not really, but I should eat something. It helps to keep me on schedule," Brian said with a rueful grin.

"I brought up a couple of pork chops and some carrots. Does that sound all right?"

"Sounds fine," Brian agreed.

"Brian, from now if I'm doing something that's bad for you, fucking tell me."

"Okay."

"I mean it. Today was one of the worst days of my life. I don't want to go through that ever again. And I'm sure you don't either."

Brian smiled slightly. "Is there any of that cranberry juice left from the cosmos you and Emmett made?"

"Yeah, why? You want a cosmo?"

"Hell no! But cranberry juice is good in helping prevent calculi."

"Calculi? Like calculus?"

Brian snorted. "No, grasshopper, calculi are the bladder or kidney stones caused by too much calcium and other minerals."

"Oh, shit! I have so much to learn."

"I'm amazed that you want to," Brian said sadly.

"Brian, I'm here because I want to be. Understand?"

"Yeah." But somehow Brian found it hard to believe that Justin could really want to be anywhere with a cripple and all the fucking shit that went along with that.

-----

A couple of hours later Brian had decided to go back to bed. He had had no further abdominal pain, and he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not. He kept telling Justin that it could be the calm before the storm. When the next bladder stone decided to move, it could be excruciating. However, he was actually hoping that the medicine would do its thing and help dissolve the stone or at least reduce it in size.

Brian lay in his bed trying to sleep but not finding any success in that attempt. He could just make out Justin's shape on the couch through the glass partition. He seemed to be reading or sketching or something. Brian wasn't sure, as his image was distorted by the frosted glass through which Brian observed him.

A sigh escaped Brian's mouth. Justin's distorted shape made him think about distortions in other things, like his fucking life. The human brain was funny in the way that it made connections between things. Ever since that life shattering car accident everything in Brian's world was thrown off kilter. Nothing was right and true anymore. It was all filtered through the distorted lens of his fucking wheelchair.

Brian glanced down towards Justin. He knew the young man was very upset about what had happened. Justin felt responsible for feeding Brian the wrong food and not letting him keep to his schedules of exercise and eating. But it hadn't been Justin's fault. Brian had wanted to do what Justin suggested. For once in the last three years he had been able to be normal … almost. He ate what normal people ate, and he did what normal people wanted to do … most of the time. And now he was paying the consequences. But it had been worth it, even though that bladder stone had hurt like a motherfucker. It had been nice to pretend that he was normal and not distorted. Even if it had only lasted for a little while.

He let out another sigh, this one loud enough to be heard by anyone in the loft, and, of course, there was only one other person there.

"Brian?" Justin asked. "Are you all right?"

"Can't sleep."

"Want some company?"

"Um…" Brian hesitated. He did want company but he didn't want to sound needy. "Yeah," he finally said giving in to his need to have contact with Justin.

"Want a massage?" Justin asked coming up and sitting on the side of the bed. "It might relax you."

"That would be nice," Brian said.

"Roll onto your stomach," Justin said.

Brian turned over and Justin started to knead his shoulders. "There's some oil in the medicine chest in the bathroom," Brian said.

"That will feel good," Justin said as he stood up to go get it. He returned with the bottle and squirted some into his hand. He rubbed his hands together warming the liquid. Slowly he began smoothing the warm oil across Brian's shoulders and down his back. He climbed onto the bed and knelt astride Brian. His hands worked at the tense muscles in the shoulders and down the spine.

"How low should I go?" Justin asked.

"Just play it by ear," Brian whispered already starting to feel drowsy from the sensation of Justin's warm hands all over him.

"I won't hurt you … will I?" Justin felt compelled to ask.

"I'm not made of porcelain or lace. You won't hurt me."

Justin continued his slow methodical kneading and rubbing. He felt Brian relax and very soon the steady breathing beneath him told Justin that Brian had fallen asleep. Gently he stood up and climbed over Brian to lie down beside the man. Justin brushed the hair away from Brian's eyes and studied the sleeping face.

"I won't let you down again," Justin said as he leaned in to kiss Brian's cheek.

Hours later Justin stood up from the computer and stretched. He glanced at the time on the screen. It was 3:52. "Shit," he mumbled. He had spent hours researching paraplegia on the web. He had read everything about it that he could find, concentrating on medical conditions resulting from paraplegia, and on how to care for paraplegics and about foods good and bad for paraplegics. He had found all kinds of other stuff that he wanted to ask Brian about too, but that would have to wait for a bit.

Justin made his way up to the bedroom. He stared at the sleeping Brian before shucking off his clothes and climbing in beside him. He leaned in to kiss Brian's cheek again and to renew his promise to stick by Brian at all times and be there when he was needed.

-----

The next day went by without incident. Justin roused himself when Brian got up about seven a.m. He had barely got to sleep, or so it seemed, but he was determined to get up and not be grumpy. He made coffee and consumed several mugs of it while Brian did his exercises. He made breakfast for them, encouraging Brian to drink his cranberry juice and keeping a cheerful face on everything he did.

When Brian started working on the computer, Justin cleaned up the kitchen and watched Brian every chance he got. He would always manage to look away before Brian caught him, but he wanted to make sure that Brian was not having any further pain or discomfort.

"You could go down to your loft and paint," Brian suggested when Justin finished in the kitchen.

"Oh, no, I'm going to sketch and I can do that here," Justin declared.

"Suit yourself," Brian said with a shrug. He went back to work on the campaign he was designing. Whenever he looked up, Justin would look away. He wondered if Justin intended to keep him under twenty-four hour scrutiny. It was kind of endearing. Brian gave a shudder at that thought. He had been hanging around the munchers too much lately.

Justin made lunch and then dinner. He changed the sheets and made the bed. He ran the dishwasher. He swept the kitchen floor. Anything that could possibly need to be done, he did it.

By bedtime Brian was ready for some time alone. He suggested that Justin might want to go to his loft and paint for a bit or check his messages. Justin said there was nothing down there that he needed to do. He thought he'd go to bed early too.

They each followed their nightly rituals of getting ready for bed. Brian had a shower and then Justin had one. They brushed their teeth and climbed into bed. Justin wondered about initiating sex, but he didn't know if Brian was up to it. The bladder problems had taken a lot out of him, and Justin didn't want to push anything and cause more problems. They stared at the ceiling.


After a bit Justin turned on his side and studied Brian's profile. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine. You don't have to ask me all the time."

"I'm just concerned."

"I know."

Facing Brian, Justin slid his hand down Brian's arm that lay on top of the duvet. When his fingers reached Brian's he linked them between Brian's so that they were locked together. Brian turned his head to take in the look on Justin's beautiful face. They lay staring at each other in silence. After a bit when Brian showed no signs of going to sleep, Justin decided they might as well talk.

"Brian, can I ask you something?" he began.

"Like I could stop you."

"If you want to sleep, just say so," Justin said defensively.

"I'm teasing. What do you want to know?"

"Are there any other things I should know about you being in a wheelchair? I don't want to be responsible for causing more problems."

"There's tons of stuff, but most of it you don't want to hear about, believe me!"

"What … what do you mean exactly?"

"I mean that I spent the first year after the accident learning about my body, relearning so many things that everybody takes for granted. Things that I could no longer assume would happen," Brian added not sure how specific he wanted to get about this.

"Like what?" Justin had to ask.

"You've just lived through one example," Brian said with a grimace.

"Hunh?"

"Urinating," Brian said like that explained everything.

"I … um … I was reading on the net last night about problems people have…"

"People, as in paraplegics?" Brian asked.

Justin nodded not wanting to say the word. "How come you don't have catheters?"

"I see you did your research," Brian said with a bit of a grimace. "A lot of paraplegics do have to be catheterized. I guess you'd say I'm lucky in that the spinal damage was very low in the back and it's only a partial lesion. That's why I have some sensation down there."

"So you don't need a catheter? You can do it by yourself."

"I suppose you could call it that, but it doesn't fucking happen automatically anymore. I basically had to learn to piss and shit all over again."

"Oh!"

"I've done it through training my body to follow a routine, and by eating and drinking the right things every fucking day."

"And I screwed that up for you," Justin said shaking his head.

"Stop blaming yourself. I wanted to do those things. I could have told you that I wouldn't eat the pizza or that cheese sauces weren't good for me. But I didn't do that because for once it was nice to be like everyone else. I thought I could handle it."

"I should have read more about paraplegia when I first met you. Then I would have known."

"Don't you get it? I didn't want you to know about para-fucking-plegia. I wanted to forget all about it. And you were the first person in a hell of a long time who saw me, and not the chair. It was like this fucking contraption didn't exist for you, and I loved that you felt that way. You know, the fucking bladder stone was a small price to pay for the enjoyment I've had over the last weeks."

"Even though it hurt like a motherfucker?" Justin teased.

"Even though…" Brian smiled.

"But …"

"But what?" Brian sighed.

"I still want to know what other things I should or shouldn't do," Justin persisted.

"Don't get testy when I clang around doing my exercises … every day … without fail."

"Okay, even if I have to get up at the crack of dawn, I'll do that."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about our living arrangements," Brian said.

"Can we do it later? I want to find out what else I need to do to help you."

"Don't try to help me too much, would be the first thing," Brian stated. "I'm not an invalid. Well, I am an invalid, but I don't want to be treated like an invalid."

"Okay, so I'm getting the don'ts. How about some do's?"

"You have the pamphlets on foods I should and shouldn't have."

"Yeah," Justin said. He had read them thoroughly several times. "What about sex? Have I been doing that right?"

"Um…"

"Shit! What have I done wrong there?"

"Nothing, you do everything very masterfully."

"Briiiaaan," Justin said with a warning in his voice. "Tell me the truth."

"I … I shouldn't have anal sex," Brian finally said closing his eyes to block out Justin's reaction.

"Fuck! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to do it for you," Brian said simply.

"Well, no more!" Justin declared. He couldn't believe that Brian had let him do that and not said anything. Jesus, he could have really put Brian in jeopardy.

"I don't think every now and then should be a problem."

"Isn't that what you thought about the food?" Justin challenged him.

"Yeah, I guess it was. I could discuss it with Dr. Johansen," Brian suggested.

"All right, but make sure you do. I'm not going to cause any more problems. Have I been doing anything else wrong?"

"Justin, it's fine," Brian replied. He didn't want to be discussing this at all. He didn't want to hurt Justin's feelings and make him feel even worse.

"It's not fine. Tell me."

Brian groaned. "I … I have little sensation in my penis. When you work with me and I get an erection, I can usually get off, but..."

"But what?" Justin asked frowning.

"The most sensation I have is along the line where the feeling to my lower extremities ends. When you touch me there, it drives me wild."

"It does?" Justin asked with a grin. "Show me where."

Brian threw back the duvet and ran his finger along a line at his groin. "That's the area."

"I see," Justin said letting his fingers trace the same line. He watched Brian's face. The man sucked in a breath and started to almost pant. "Feel good?"

"Fuck, yes."

Justin grinned. He leaned down over Brian's groin and used his talented tongue to follow the same path his fingers had taken before. Brian groaned. Warming to his task, Justin nipped along the same area. Brian arched his back and moaned. His breath came in short gasps. Justin's hands found Brian's cock and he pulled gently. As the cock began to fill he stroked up and down the shaft, still nipping and licking at Brian's groin. Brian's moans grew louder and he grabbed a fistful of Justin's hair. Justin squeezed Brian's balls rolling them around and tugging gently. His mouth continued to work along the line that Brian had shown him. Brian gasped and arched and moaned and mewled. The sound was driving Justin crazy. He wanted to ride Brian's now full cock, but he wanted to pleasure this man even more.

"Oh, fuck, Justin," Brian panted feeling things he hadn't felt for so long.

"Am I doing it right?" Justin asked as he looked up into Brian's face with a wicked grin playing about his lips.

"Just about fucking perfect," Brian groaned as Justin continued to flick his tongue and nibble on the now super-sensitized area.

"Can I ride it?" Justin asked indicating Brian's now fully engorged cock.

"You have to ask?"

Justin quickly rolled on a condom and positioned himself above Brian. As he slowly sat down Brian held his dick to the ready. When Justin was fully impaled, he stroked along that sensitive line on Brian's groin that he now knew by heart. Brian moaned.

"Oh God, Justin."

"We can make this really good for both of us," Justin smiled as he began to move up and down slowly. His hands caressed and squeezed along the sensitive area on Brian.

Brian reached for Justin's cock as it bounced in front of him. He began his own rhythm, stroking in tandem with Justin's movements. As Justin rode him and continued to stroke and massage the area Brian had shown him, Brian thought he would explode or incinerate. He had felt nothing like this in so long. As good as sex had been with Justin since they met, this was far beyond that. Justin moaned and whispered Brian's name as he bounced above him. Suddenly Justin cried out and shot his load all over Brian. Brian felt, actually felt, something constrict his cock. It had to be Justin's hole contracting around his dick. He rose up slightly off the bed and cried out as the orgasm overcame him.

When Justin slid off him, Brian looked down at his softening penis. Maybe the world was all right after all. Maybe everything wasn't quite as distorted as he had thought. He pulled Justin close as they dozed, wrapped around each other all sticky and gooey. And it felt so right.

Close to Home II

+ Ten +

It was almost a week since Brian had been forced to go to the hospital with the bladder stones. He had had some discomfort, but nothing like the first stone that he had passed. He was scheduled to see Dr. Johansen tomorrow, and Justin was determined to go with him.

Brian grimaced. He never thought he would want Justin to leave him alone, but he did. The man had become obsessed about being there for Brian, as he called it. He stayed every night at the loft. They ate all meals together. Justin worked on some sketches while he was at Brian's; that is, in between cooking, cleaning, tidying and fluffing the fucking pillows. He rarely went to his own loft, only to get clothes as he needed them. Justin occasionally left the loft long enough to shop for the both of them. He bought only the foods on the list that he had read in one of the pamphlets. He prepared them meticulously as was indicated in the same pamphlet. Brian couldn't fault anything that he did.

At first it had been fun spending every minute together. They had watched TV and worked side by side. They had cooked together and eaten together. Justin was most solicitous. If Brian needed anything Justin was up in a flash to get it. That had been cute … for a while. Now it was becoming nothing short of annoying. Brian couldn't even get a bottle of water from the fridge without Justin holding the door open for him. It made him feel like he was two years old or a complete imbecile or a fucking invalid. And Brian did not want to be any of those things.

And then there was the hovering, and Brian hated hovering. Justin was always there watching everything that Brian did, asking questions all the time, checking that Brian was feeling all right. It was like he was afraid that if he blinked at the wrong moment, Brian would become sick again, and it would be his fault. All this care and attention was driving Brian insane.

Brian ran his hand through his hair as he sat in front of his computer. He had been pretending to work while Justin cleaned in the kitchen. He could feel Justin's eyes on him the whole time. He didn't know how many more furtive glances he could take before he blew a gasket.

He wanted to tell Justin how this was affecting him, but he knew how seriously Justin had taken his past mistakes. Brian was afraid that if he asked Justin to back off and give him some space, Justin would be hurt. The last thing Brian wanted was for Justin to leave him … totally alone. He couldn't stand that to happen. He just didn't know what to do about this situation. He wanted things back the way they used to be.

"Justin," Brian said hoping he could carry this off.

"Yeah?" Justin said coming out from behind the kitchen counter.

"I … um … I was thinking that I might ask Michael to go with me to … um … see Dr. Johansen tomorrow."

"Oh?"

Brian could hear the hurt in Justin's voice. "You know … I told you that he offered to help any way that he could. I thought this would give us a bit of time to be alone instead of just talking on the phone. We could get reacquainted while I wait to see the doctor. I haven't seen him face to face since that day he first came here, and talking on the phone isn't really the same. And … and, it doesn't look like we're going to have that fucking family dinner any time soon."

"We can have the fucking dinner whenever you feel up to it," Justin retorted. He didn't like the sound of this at all.

"It's not about the dinner."

"Wanna tell me what it's really about?" Justin questioned. He could sense there was more to this than an hour spent with Mikey.

This wasn't turning out the way Brian had hoped. "Justin, it's just a fucking trip to the doctor."

"That you don't want me to come on with you…" Justin gulped. He would not get upset. Brian could take anyone he wanted with him, and obviously the man didn't want him.

"I thought … I thought you could use a break," Brian said hoping that didn't sound as pathetic to Justin as it sounded to him.

"Don't you mean you could use a break?" Justin demanded the light beginning to dawn. Brian was sick of him. That had to be it.

"You're here every day all day. Your work has to be suffering. I haven't seen you paint since you decided to stay here."

"I didn't want to bring all my crap up here. I was just thinking of you," Justin said softly.

"I know," Brian sighed. He wished Justin would stand up to him and assert himself. He missed the old grumpy, snarky Justin. This new one got on his nerves. "You could go to your own loft and paint for an hour or two," Brian suggested.

"I don't want to leave you alone."

"Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm fine."

"Like you were the day we went to see Gus?"

"No, not like that. I think we've solved the bladder problem for now." Shit, he hated discussing shitting and pissing. Bodily functions weren't something to be talked about.

"So you want some time with Michael?"

"Yeah."

"Couldn't you invite him here?"

"Of course I could."

"Then do it."

"Justin, you need some time to work on your paintings," Brian repeated.

"Like while you're at the doctor's with Michael."

"Yeah, like that," Brian said brightening since Justin seemed to be more receptive to that idea.

"Maybe you'd like me to spend a lot more time in my own loft," Justin said testing Brian's reaction.

"I'm all right now. I don't need you…"

"Got it! You don't need me. You don't want me here. You can manage on your own."

"I can, you know," Brian felt compelled to say.

"Then let's just give you that opportunity," Justin stated. He would get the fuck out of there while he still had some of his dignity intact. He would not stay somewhere he wasn't wanted. He walked to the sofa, grabbed his sketchbook and stomped towards the door. "I'm sure you'll be just fine without me. I didn't realize I was in your fucking way."

"Justin…"

"Don't try to explain. I'm not totally stupid. I can tell when I'm being eased out of the picture. You go ahead and get Michael to take you to that appointment, and while you're at it, get him to come and cook and clean and jerk you off. I'm out of here." Justin pulled the loft door closed as forcefully as he could. Sometimes he would love a good, old fashioned door that you could really slam. He ran down the stairs fighting back the tears.

"Justin," Brian called but he knew it was no use. Well, he had got his wish. The old snarky, stand-up-for-himself Justin was back. And that Justin would leave him alone. No more hovering or furtive glances or sunshine smiles or gentle touches or scorching sex. Shit!

-----

"Okay, Mikey," Brian said. "If you can be here around two that should give us enough time to get to the doctor's office. "See you then."

Brian cut the phone connection. Michael would go with him to his appointment with Dr. Johansen. He had seemed pleased that Brian had asked him. Maybe this would turn out to be a good thing. But it didn't change the fact that Justin was still mad at him. Brian stared at the phone that he held in his hand. He had tried to call Justin three times since he had left. What was one more?

Brian dialed willing Justin to answer. The rings finally ended with the answering machine picking up.

"Justin," Brian said. "Justin, please pick up. I know you're there. Let me explain." Brian waited. There was no reply. Maybe Justin wasn't even there. Maybe he was out getting a decent fuck from someone with two good legs. Brian could hardly blame him if he was. That's what he would have done if he had two good legs of his own.

Brian set the phone down on its base. He thought about wheeling himself out to the elevator and going down the one floor to Justin's loft. But what good would that do? If Justin wouldn't talk to him on the phone, he sure as shit wouldn't open the door and talk to him.

Then it hit him. He would compose the perfect e-mail and send it to Justin. He could make him listen if he chose the right words and put them down just so. He could sell himself. He could convince Justin that he should forgive him. He could make Justin see that he was trying to make things easier for him, that he needed some time for his own life. He could show Justin that he cared about him and wanted him around. He could make Justin come back, if he could only find the right words. He could do it.

Brian rolled over to the computer and called up the e-mail. Now all he had to do was figure out what to say.

Hey BB,

I'm sorry about what happened earlier. If you had given me a chance to explain, you would understand that I wasn't trying to drive you away. Come up and let's discuss this.

Brian read what he had written and immediately deleted it. It sounded much too casual, like nothing major had really happened. Brian knew that was not the case. Justin would see that e-mail as condescending. He needed to try again.

BB,

I wish you had stayed a little longer. I didn't want you to leave. I'm sorry about how it must have sounded about me taking Michael to the appointment instead of you. I never meant to upset you. I want you here. I need you.

Brian read over this text and immediately deleted it too. It sounded too apologetic and needy. If nothing else came from this flare-up between them, they at least needed to understand the need for space and independence. Brian remembered that he had intended to talk to Justin about new living arrangements. He wondered if they had a bigger place if they could have got through this medical problem without being in each other's face. He started another e-mail.

BB,

I'm not going to apologize for what happened tonight, because I think we need to sort out a few things. Please read the rest of this before you delete it. It may be one of the most important things I've ever written.

When I first met you, you treated me like any other person, and that was what I loved about you. I never felt like a cripple. You got me to venture out into the world again. You helped me reclaim some semblance of my life. I want to thank you for that.

Ever since I had the episode of bladder problems things have changed. You've started to treat me the way they did in the hospital. That's why I stopped seeing my friends back then. I couldn't stand their worry and pity and their need to never let me be alone. There are times I actually like being alone. I lived alone for a long time and I've been alone a lot ever since the accident.

I wish I had been able to tell you all this before you ran out, but I was afraid as soon as I started to say I needed some space, you would take it the wrong way, and you did.

You have become very important to me since we finally met. I can't envision my life without you. I want you near me. I need you. Maybe just not hovering over me twenty-four-seven.

I hope that doesn't sound like a put-down, because it's not meant that way. I want to go back to how we were when we first met. Do you think we can do that?

PP

Brian read through what he had written. It was the truth and it was heartfelt. It also sounded sappy and much too needy. He thought Justin might respond to it, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to lay himself bare like that, especially when Justin might not even be able to go back to the way they had been.

Brian's finger hovered on the mouse. He rolled the cursor back and forth between delete and send. He didn't know which to do. He felt like he needed to know Justin was still willing to try to make a go of their relationship before he told him all these personal thoughts. He was about to push delete when he changed his mind and put the e-mail in the draft section. Maybe later.

BB,

I miss you … a lot.

PP

Brian hit "send" before he could change his mind. He was such a fucking coward and he had so little experience with this relationship shit. At least he had told Justin that he missed him. He hoped Justin would respond to that admission.

-----

Brian drove slowly along the streets that would take him and Michael back to the loft. Michael was like a kid in a comic store.

"So what is that switch for? Is it hard to brake? Do you think I could learn to drive your van? Wouldn't it be fun to take a trip somewhere in the van?" Michael jabbered.

"Four way flashers, no, no, and I don't think so," Brian replied to the string of questions.

"You're in a shitty mood today," Michael reacted. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just peachy."

"Fuck, Brian, I thought we were going to spend some time together and you've hardly said ten words to me since I arrived at the loft. Something's going on."

"Nothing."

"Is it that Justin guy? Where was he today? Is that what the problem is?"

"Just shut the fuck up about Justin."

"So it is Justin," Michael said surmising from Brian's reaction that Justin must be the source of Brian's foul mood."

"It's not Justin," Brian stated. He wished Michael would just give up.

"What did he do?"

Brian groaned. He did not want to discuss Justin with Michael. "When is your mother having another family dinner?" he asked hoping to change the subject.

"She isn't. She's waiting for you to have it."

"Shit!"

"Don't you want to have the dinner now?"

"I don't think I can pull it off."

"I thought this Justin was going to help you do it," Michael said. He wondered what had happened between these two if Justin was no longer willing to help with the dinner.

"He's going to be busy with his art," Brian said hoping Michael would leave it at that.

"Too busy to give you a few hours on one day? Some friend!"

"He is a friend and he is busy."

Michael stared at his friend who maneuvered the van into its parking space. "You might as well tell me what he did," Michael said.

"He didn't do anything," Brian said lowering the lift so he could get out of the van.

"Then where is he? Why won't he help you?"

"I drove him away."

"You fucking did what?"

"You heard me."

"Why the fuck would you do that? I could tell the guy really cared about you."

"You could?" Brian asked wondering that it would be so obvious to Michael.

"Yes."

"He's mad at me. He won't answer my calls or e-mails."

"Why don't you go see him? He lives one floor down from you, doesn't he?"

"He won't talk to me."

"When did all this happen?"

"Yesterday."

"He should have had a little time to cool off by now. Why don't you try again?"

"I don't think it will do any good," Brian said as they made their way into the building. They got on the elevator.

"Should I push three or four?" Michael asked.

Brian hesitated for a split second and then barked out, "Four!"

-----

Justin finished up the abstract he was doing. It was dark and mean looking … just like Brian. That was how he felt about the asshole at the moment. He mixed what he could only describe as a cold red and smiled at the concoction. It was perfect. He practically threw a blob of it at the painting. It landed slightly off center. Perfect, Justin thought. It represented Brian's cold, uncaring heart.

Justin wiped his hands and started to clean up the paints and brushes he had used. Every few seconds he glanced at the painting. He really liked the effect and the heart was a nice touch.

However, he knew he didn't really feel that way about Brian. He had tried to do everything for Brian, and if he was truthful, he had probably overdone it. The strain of being on duty twenty-four hours a day, and then being cheerful all the time on top of that had begun to wear on him too. If he had been in his usual frame of mind, he knew now that Brian's words wouldn't have upset him so much. But it had felt good to get all the anger and hurt out in the painting. Maybe now he could come to terms with what Brian had said and done, and his own reaction to it, or maybe that should be his own melodramatic over-reaction to it.

Justin was drying the last of his brushes when he heard someone pounding on his door. He frowned, wondering who it could be. No one had buzzed. He wondered who could have managed to get to his door through some other means.

"Brian," he thought, his hopes soaring. He quickly opened the door only to see Michael standing there. "What do you want?" Justin demanded. Michael wasn't one of his favorite people at the moment.

"I need to talk to you," Michael said walking into the loft as Justin stepped back.

"Oh no! Is something wrong with Brian? What did the doctor say?"

"There's nothing wrong with Brian … any more than already was. But he is in one fucking mood, and you're the cause of it."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. What the fuck did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything. He told me he didn't want me around … so I left."

"But he does want you around."

"How do you know that?" Justin asked with a frown. "Did he say that?"

"Not exactly, but he was like a bear with a sore paw the whole time we were at the doctor's. He said he's been calling and e-mailing and you won't answer him."

"He could have come down here to talk to me."

"You don't know what Brian was like," Michael said hesitantly. Justin looked at him quizzically. "Brian never went after anybody. The fact that he even vaguely admitted that he misses you is a major about-face for him."

"It is?"

"It is."

"So you think I should just forgive and forget?"

"I think you'll make up your own mind about that, but give him a chance to explain."

"Why did you come here?" Justin asked curious about Michael's role in all this.

"I think we both want the best for Brian. He's had a hard time of it. You came after me and got us back together. I thought I'd return the favor," Michael grinned.

"You think I'm the best for Brian?" Justin had to ask.

"What I think doesn't matter. It's what he thinks. Don't wait too long," Michael said as he walked back to the door.

"Michael," Justin said. Michael turned to face him. "Thanks for doing this."

"I've always said I'm Brian's best friend. I'm just trying to live up to that title."

Justin closed the door behind Michael and decided maybe he should go listen to his messages and read his e-mails.

Close to Home II

+ Eleven +

Brian sat at his desk staring at his computer. He was supposed to be working but he was actually thinking about Justin and what he could do about the current situation with the young man. Suddenly the computer pinged indicating he had mail. He started to click on it, and then hesitated. It might be Justin and that would be good. It might not be Justin and that would be bad. It might be Justin telling him to fuck off and that would be the worst of all. Brian took a deep breath and opened the e-mail.

Hey PP,

Seems like you have been trying to get in touch with me. I thought you wanted me to leave you alone, so that's what I've been doing.

The terseness of your one and only e-mail left me gasping for more. I marvel at the amount of time and effort it must have taken you, a seasoned ad man, to reduce your thoughts to the bare essentials and convey them in so very few, but yet such carefully chosen words. I can't express how impressed I am. I'm beginning to think PP must stand for "Pure Poo".

If you want to talk come on down.

BB

Brian chuckled out loud. "Pure Poo", the little twat! Then he stared more closely at the e-mail. It didn't sound like Justin was mad. The paragraph about "Poo" sounded tongue in cheek, but the "Poo" part sounded like Justin didn't believe him. Then there was the invitation or request or ultimatum for him to go down to Justin's loft. Brian wished he knew which interpretation to make of that statement.

He started to shut down his computer, but changed his mind and after clicking a couple of times, he printed off a sheet. He folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. Wheeling over to the loft door, Brian hesitated. He wanted to make up with Justin, and this overture made it sound like Justin was ready to get back on better terms with him, but…

Brian thought back to all the times he had refused to go after anybody, and technically that was what Justin was demanding, that Brian come after him. Sitting in his chair staring at the door, Brian weighed his options. He wanted Justin back. He could call and maybe convince Justin to come up, play the cripple card. But he didn't want to do that. He suspected maybe this was a test Justin was putting him to, and he didn't want to fail. He had never chased after anyone, but he had never had to. They always came to him. But that was then, and this was now.

Like he had a choice anyway! He knew he was inexorably tied to the beautiful young man downstairs. He had known that from the first moments he had sensed Justin's presence in the building. And when Justin had returned his interest, it had been the best day of his life. He wanted Justin and he would go to the ends of the Earth to get him. He might as well admit that to himself.

He pulled back the loft door feeling confident and scared and elated and worried. He wondered if this was what love felt like. He was maybe going to take the chance to find out. He hit the button for the elevator.

As the elevator descended Brian felt his heart pounding in his chest. "Calm down and don't fuck this up," Brian whispered to himself.

The elevator began to slow and Brian could see the door to Justin's loft. It stood open. Brian had to grin. The little shit did know him pretty well. He pushed up the gate and rolled out, yanking the gate down behind him. He knew Justin would hear it and wondered if he'd come to the door. When no one appeared, he rolled over to the door and peered inside.

"'Bout time you got here," Justin said. He was sitting on his sofa staring at the door.

"Been sitting there long?" Brian asked sucking in his lips.

"Just since I sent the e-mail."

"Fucking sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Maybe," Justin said with one of those smiles.

At that moment Brian knew whatever he had to do to get Justin back and have those smiles, he would do it. He was so fucked. "I did miss you, you know. It wasn't 'poo'."

Justin chuckled. "I thought that might get your attention."

"You do believe that I missed you?" Brian asked with that funny grin that made him look like a guilty, little boy.

"I believe you, big guy."

Brian smiled. It sounded like the old Justin might be back. "What made you finally answer all my pleas for reconciliation?"

Justin snorted. "Pleas? You call those pleas? 'You didn't let me explain, Justin. I miss you, Justin.' Humph!" Justin imitated Brian's falsetto that he used when being sarcastic.

"A lot," Brian added. "I missed you … a lot."

"Yeah, I saw that part in your five word e-mail," Justin griped. "You are the master of brevity."

Brian snorted. "One of my best ad campaigns was three words," he bragged.

"Oh, and what were the three words?"

"Eat the meat," Brian declared.

"Eat the fucking meat?" Justin asked in amazement. "What the hell was that for?"

"Steakhouse."

"Shit!" Justin reacted shaking his head.

"So you didn't say why you finally decided to answer my pleas," Brian persisted.

"Michael."

"Michael?" Brian said in bewilderment.

"He paid me a visit after your doctor's appointment."

"What the fuck for?"

"He thought I was being unreasonable and making you miserable."

"Miserable?"

"Like a bear with a sore paw to quote the man."

"I'm no bear," Brian said doing his best to look offended.

Justin giggled. "But you do have your moments," Justin teased.

Brian snorted. "So are we all right?"

"No."

Brian glanced at Justin. He tried to keep the hurt out of his eyes. "We're not?" he asked tentatively.

"I don't know what I did that made you want to send me away," Justin said. He had a pretty good idea but he wanted Brian to tell him.

"You…" Brian hesitated.

"Just fucking say it," Justin said.

"You were … hovering."

"Hovering? I was fucking worried about you."

"I know, but it was too much." Brian drew in a breath. "I want you to read something," he said slowly. Justin stared at him wondering what it might be. Brian reached in his pocket and drew out the sheet of paper. He handed it to Justin. "Read it," he whispered.

Justin unfolded the paper with some trepidation. He had no idea what Brian wanted him to look at. He began reading:

BB,

I'm not going to apologize for what happened tonight, because I think we need to sort out a few things. Please read the rest of this before you delete it. It may be one of the most important things I've ever written.

When I first met you, you treated me like any other person, and that was what I loved about you. I never felt like a cripple. You got me to venture out into the world again. You helped me reclaim some semblance of my life. I want to thank you for that.

Ever since I had the episode of bladder problems things have changed. You've started to treat me the way they did in the hospital. That's why I stopped seeing my friends back then. I couldn't stand their worry and pity and their need to never let me be alone. There are times I actually like being alone. I lived alone for a long time and I've been alone a lot ever since the accident.

I wish I had been able to tell you all this before you ran out, but I was afraid as soon as I started to say I needed some space, you would take it the wrong way, and you did.

You have become very important to me since we finally met. I can't envision my life without you. I want you near me. I need you. Maybe just not hovering over me twenty-four-seven.

I hope that doesn't sound like a put-down, because it's not meant that way. I want to go back to how we were when we first met. Do you think we can do that?

PP

Justin finished reading the e-mail and looked up at Brian. He knew there were tears in his eyes. "When did you write this?"

"Just before I sent you the shorter version."

"Why didn't you send me this one?" Justin had to know.

"I … I'm not good at talking about stuff like that and I thought you might tell me to fuck off."

"Jesus, you are dumb about stuff."

"I am?"

"I would have been up at your place in a shot if you had sent this."

"You would?"

"Fucking tell me when something's bugging you. I did figure it out you know, even without this letter. But I would have got it a lot sooner if you had sent it."

"You have it now," Brian said with puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah, I won't hover anymore. But you scared the shit out of me, you know. I … I was afraid I was going to lose you."

"Justin, I'm not going to sugar coat it. Life with a … cripple isn't easy, and it won't get easier, only harder."

"I told you I'm in for the long haul … if you'll let me."

"I'll … let you," Brian said fighting back the tears of relief that Justin's statement engendered.

Justin practically leapt from the couch and landed in Brian's lap. His lips sought the ones that he had become so familiar with and that he wanted so much. A moan escaped both of them as tongues battled and air was sucked out. Finally Justin released Brian's mouth.

"Fuck, I missed you," Justin gasped.

"How long has it been?" Brian breathed.

"Months, years."

"Don't you mean decades or centuries?"

"I really am sorry, Brian. I wasn't getting enough sleep. I know I was watching you all the time, but I was waiting for something else bad to happen. I was afraid, and I was trying to be chipper…"

"Chipper?" Brian asked with a snort. "I like you better when you're more like a wood chipper than pretending to be sweet."

"Hey, I am sweet," Justin declared.

"Yes, especially the way you taste," Brian grinned, "but I'm kind of fond of grumpy, sarcastic Justin too. However, I would like to show Sweet Justin how much I think of him."

"You would? I like the sound of that."

"Maybe you should close the door before I begin."

"Is it going to be X-rated?"

"Triple X."

"Ooh, I'm getting all hot and bothered."

"And I haven't even started."

Justin shut the door to his loft and turned back to Brian with a smile. "Ready?" he asked.

"Want a ride?" Brian said indicating his lap.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Bed."

"Okaaay," Justin said with a giggle as he slid onto Brian's lap.

Justin had an actual bedroom so Brian wheeled them into it and stopped by the bed. He looked tentatively at the bed. Getting in and out of it would be difficult without his grab bar, but he hadn't done all those exercises for nothing.

"Off, bouncy butt," Brian commanded as Justin stood up with a giggle. It was good to play again. Justin was about to offer to help Brian get onto the bed when he thought better of it. He stood waiting. "Get out of those clothes," Brian ordered as he hoisted himself out of his chair and onto the bed, emitting a loud grunt as he did so.

Justin began divesting himself of his clothes. He watched Brian shove off his jeans, shirt and shoes. He wiggled his underwear out from his butt and pulled it down his legs. Justin was naked by this point and watched with interest.

"What?" Brian asked sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Um … nothing," Justin said with a frown. He'd talk to Brian later. Right now he wanted Brian to show him how much he had missed him. "Where do you want me?"

"Lay down."

Justin slid onto the bed and stretched out on his back. Brian turned onto his stomach and pulled himself across the bed towards Justin's body, his feet hanging over the edge. He reached towards Justin and ran his hand down the man's chest and continued down his thigh bypassing his groin. Justin moaned slightly.

"Stay still and enjoy," Brian said with a smirk.

Justin closed his eyes and snuggled into the comforter that covered his bed. He felt Brian inch closer and then the soft, sure lips starting kissing him everywhere. Brian started at his hip and worked his way up his side to his throat. He nuzzled and nipped at the hollow at Justin's collarbone. Justin moaned louder as that spot had always been one of his most sensitive. Brian licked across his nipple and then chewed gently on it. Justin's hand came up to grab a fistful of Brian's hair and his back arched off the bed. He let out a loud gasp.

Brian waited until he settled back down and then went to work on the other nipple, eliciting the same reaction. He looked down to Justin's cock which was red and full and leaking. Brian kissed down Justin's stomach, and then with his mouth he pulled gently at the hair around Justin's cock. When Justin moaned again Brian moved up to his navel and rimmed it thrusting his tongue inside and causing Justin's moans to grow ever louder.

"Jesus, Brian, you're killing me."

"This is just the beginning," Brian grinned as Justin opened his eyes to look in the hazel ones.

Brian shoved himself down so that he could get at Justin's thighs. He pressed the man's legs apart and finding no resistance he kissed up one thigh and down the other. He made sure not to come in contact with Justin's cock. Justin whimpered.

Brian spread Justin's legs farther and pushed them up so he could lie between them. He took one of Justin's balls into his mouth sucking and rolling it around. When he released it, he immediately started working on the other one. Justin's whimpers increased in volume and he panted as he felt the tingles of orgasm course through his body.

Brian waited for Justin to calm again and then proceeded to lick along the perineum. He nuzzled and sniffed and kissed the sensitive area.

"Brian," Justin cried out. "I'm going to come."

"Not yet," Brian said sticking two fingers in behind Justin's balls. Justin felt the urge to shoot immediately dissipate. He took a couple of deep breaths.

"God, Brian. I don't know how much more I can take. You're driving me insane."

"That was my intention," Brian smirked.

"Asshole," Justin grumped.

Brian chuckled and then sucked Justin's cock into his mouth just holding it there as Justin gasped and thrashed around beneath him. Slowly he worked his mouth up and down the shaft spreading precum and saliva. He could feel Justin thrusting into his mouth and knew he couldn't prolong this much longer. He swirled his tongue around the tip of the cock and sucked hard once or twice. He shifted so he could reach Justin's ass more easily and he squeezed the globes.

Justin moaned, "Brian, oh God, Brian."

Brian did three things in quick succession. He sucked Justin's cock into his mouth down to the hilt. He shoved his middle finger up Justin's ass, and then he swallowed around the cock halfway down his throat. Justin rose off the bed with an almighty groan and shot his load down Brian's throat. Brian swallowed it all, sucking every drop, until Justin sighed and flopped back exhausted on the bed.

Brian pulled himself up the bed till he was lying next to Justin. He rolled the lithe body towards him holding him tenderly against his chest. He could feel Justin's heart pounding against his own and he ran his hand up and down Justin's back until he felt the man's breathing slow to near normal.

"Did that show you how much I missed you?" Brian whispered.

"I don't think I could stand any more graphic display than that," Justin whispered back. "That was breathtaking."

"I guess I haven't lost my touch after all these years."

"And you've been letting me do all the work," Justin said with a chuckle and a gentle slap to Brian's chest. "If I had known you could do that, I would have let you do everything."

"I don't do that for just anybody."

"Oh?"

"Only very grumpy, but special … friends."

"Friends?" Justin asked looking into Brian's eyes.

"Lovers," Brian admitted.

"Singular, please," Justin said.

"Christ, you're demanding."

"Yep, get used to it."

"I'd love to," Brian admitted slowly.

They held on to each other for a few minutes. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" Justin asked.

"I'd like to, but the bathroom is a problem. I probably should go home."

"I'll come with you, but I think I'll go home later on, like I used to."

"I've been wanting to talk to you about that."

"You have?"

"You know I have, so listen." Justin nodded and kept his mouth shut. He hoped this was going to be the speech he wanted to hear. "I … like sleeping with you, and I do mean sleeping, not just the other stuff we do." Justin grinned. This was good. "Neither my loft nor yours is really suitable since we have such different needs and work schedules. Am I right?" Justin nodded again. This was going in a very good direction. "So I was thinking that we could sell these places and find something … together." Brian waited. Justin smiled and said nothing. "So what do you think?"

"I think I like the way you think," Justin grinned. "What should we get, a bigger apartment or a house? What part of town do you want to be in? How much can we afford to spend? Do you want…?"

"Whoa, slow the fuck down," Brian said. "We don't have to decide everything right now."

"I know, but I love the idea, and I thought we should get right on it before you changed your mind."

"What makes you think I'm going to change my mind?" Brian asked with a frown.

"Weeeelllll…" Justin said. He let the word dangle. He was very happy about Brian's suggestion and he didn't want to ruin the moment, but there was something else he wanted to discuss with Brian.

Brian heaved a huge sigh. "Tell me," he ordered.

Justin was about to bring up the subject when he thought better of it. Now was definitely not the right time. He wanted to bask in the glow of Brian wanting them to live together. That was more than enough for now.

"I was thinking that I could get my mother to look for a place for us," Justin suggested.

"Your mother? Why the fuck would you want to do that?" Brian asked.

"Because she's a realtor."

"You never told me that," Brian said rather sheepishly. He had almost met Justin's mother at the art gallery when Justin's show opened, but she had made a hasty trip out of town to help a sick aunt, and so their paths had never crossed.

"Well, duh! Did you think I was going to get my mommy's suggestions before I could choose a place?"

"I've never met your mother. In fact I hardly knew you had one."

"Everybody has a mother, Brian," Justin said in that 'I'm educating the great unwashed' voice of his. "Don't you?"

"Not so's you'd notice."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked with a frown.

"Debbie Novotny was much more of a mother to me than my own fucking mother ever was. My father called her the warden. She was/is cold, unfeeling and disgustingly religious. She gives the term mother a very bad name."

"I'm sorry," Justin said staring into Brian's eyes. He knew Brian had had a rough childhood, but the way he described his mother was … scary.

"It's in the past. Let's leave it there."

"So can I ask my mother to start looking for places for us?"

"Why not?"

"Yee haw," Justin crowed. "I can hardly wait."

"Who would think that the prospects of a good night's sleep could get you so excited?"

"It's not the sleep. It's that you asked me to live with you, that we're going to be together … permanently. That is what you meant, isn't it?"

"I guess you could interpret it that way," Brian said with a smirk.

"Asshole," Justin reacted pushing his obnoxious lover away.

"Take it easy, pushy puss."

"You're PP, I'm BB. Remember," Justin said with a chuckle.

"Okay then, Bossy Butt. Let's go up to my place and discuss what kind of living arrangements we should have."

"That's the best idea you've had since you suggested living together."

"It may be the best idea I've ever had," Brian said as he maneuvered himself into his chair.

Justin beamed at him from the other side of the bed as he started to put on his clothes. Things were really looking up.

Close to Home II

+ Twelve +

Brian drove his van towards his latest appointment with Dr. Johansen. He was pretty sure everything was fine. He felt great and he had had no more recurrence of the bladder problems. Justin was extremely careful about what they ate, and Brian had decided to be a lot more careful too. This time Justin sat beside him in the van, and Brian was content to have it so.

"Brian," Justin said, "if you hate this van, why don't you get a car? Maybe something sporty?"

"Is that your expert opinion on the subject?" Brian asked sarcastically.

"It was just a suggestion."

"Well, keep your suggestions to yourself."

"Why? What's the problem about a car?"

"Okay, okay," Brian sighed rubbing his hand across his face. "Let's suppose I have a really great car."

"That sounds good," Justin said with a smile.

"What do you picture?"

"How about a Mercedes Kompressor or an Infiniti M45?"

"Christ, you do have expensive tastes. What the fuck kind of house are you going to want?" Brian demanded.

"Only the best. That's all I ask, just the best," Justin chuckled.

"Okay, let's look at the Mercedes. Which model?"

"Oh, the little sports convertible."

"With how many doors?"

"Two, I think. Why?"

"You're me in the chair. You roll up to your little black Kompressor. Tell me what you do."

"I … open the door, hoist myself into the driver's seat. The car will be fitted with hand controls."

"Of course. So now you're in the driver's seat. What next?"

"I close the door and drive happily away," Justin said smugly.

"Really. Didn't you forget something?"

"I … I don't think so."

"Where's your wheelchair?"

"Oh, shit, it's still back where I got in the car."

"Exactly. So go back to when you hoist yourself into the driver's seat. What are you going to do with the chair?"

"Um … put it in the back seat."

"There is no door to put it through. How are you going to get it in there?"

"If it's a convertible, I could lift it up and drop it in," Justin said with a grin.

"Right, if the top's down. That will be great in January too."

"Oh. Won't it squeeze through between the back of the seat and the door?"

"It's possible, but it's a struggle. I've tried it, but it tends to scratch the car or the chair."

Justin groaned inwardly. Trust Brian to want everything perfect. "Well, what about the Infiniti?"

"Every car with four doors is basically the same. You get in the front seat. How do you get the chair into the back?"

"If I open the back door before I get in…"

"Yes?"

"The door's in the way."

"Exactly."

"So there's no way to do it?"

"Not that I know of."

"Unless, of course, you take me with you."

Brian snorted. "Now that's the best reason I've heard for getting a car." Justin smiled at him. "But you can see why I ended up with this van. I was … alone and I needed to be able to travel on my own with no help and no bother, and I could afford the van."

"Okay, I get it," Justin said deflated. He thought for a moment and then brightened up. "There's a Saturn car, the Ion, I think it is. It has back doors that open the opposite way."

"It does?" Brian frowned.

"That would work, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," Brian said.

"Can we check it out?"

"Are you trying to bankrupt me? Cars and houses and dinner parties and God knows what else?"

Justin giggled. "You have all that money. You might as well enjoy it."

"And you're going to see that that happens?"

"Bien sur, monsieur."

"French! I am so fucked."

"Like Morticia Addams?"

"Oh fuck, yes. I loved that show."

"Me too. It was strangely wicked … and exciting."

"You are a bad influence," Brian said.

"I'm just trying to spice up your life."

"Let's save that till we get done with Dr. Johansen," Brian said as he pulled into the handicapped space at the front door of the building."

"You do get great parking spaces with the gimpmobile."

"Yeah, one of the perks of useless legs."

"Let's go," Justin said. "We can look at cars when you're done."

Brian groaned for effect as he wheeled himself off the lift of the van. It might be interesting to check out the Ion and see what it was like.

-----

Several hours later Brian and Justin returned to Brian's loft. Brian had a clean bill of health from Dr. Johansen and the papers for his new Ion that should be delivered in about six weeks. He shook his head as he set the papers on his desk.

He wasn't sure exactly what Justin did to him, but he seemed to have no self control where it came to his blond lover. Justin's enthusiasm was infectious. He could see the fun in almost anything, and he was not above baiting or tricking or cajoling Brian into trying anything. And the strange part was that Brian always enjoyed whatever Justin suggested. He had locked himself away in the loft for so long, and now the whole world seemed available to him once again. At least that's what Justin made him believe.

"Have you talked to your mother about possible houses or apartments?" Brian asked.

"Um…"

"What's wrong?"

"Maybe we should get another realtor."

"Why?" Brian asked frowning. He had a sneaking suspicion but he wanted to be sure.

"She … she's very busy," Justin said looking away.

"Too busy to earn a sure commission and commissions off both our places as well?"

"Brian…"

"She doesn't want you hanging around a … cripple, does she?"

"Will you stop calling yourself that!"

"I only use it when I'm made to feel like one."

"She … has some problems with us being together," Justin conceded.

"She hasn't fucking met me, so it has to be the chair."

"She just thinks I should take things slower."

"Like ten years from now."

"She's not a bad person."

"Of course not. She's your mother, and she's perfect. I have such a fucking headache. I'm going to lie down."

Brian wheeled himself up to the bedroom and hoisted himself onto the bed. He did have a headache. All the joy of a clean bill of health and buying a sleek new car was lost with this latest revelation. Brian knew Justin was close to his mother, and he could only imagine what her disapproval of their relationship would mean to him. He wondered if their days might be numbered. He rubbed his temples, trying to make the throbs of doubt dissipate.

"Here," Justin said standing above Brian.

Brian opened his eyes to see Justin standing there holding out his hand containing some extra strength Excedrin. Brian pushed the hand away. "Fuck off!" he barked.

"Take the damn things. I don't want to put up with your moaning and groaning."

Brian grabbed the pills, threw them in his mouth and took a swig of water from the bottle on the nightstand. "Happy?" he asked with a glare.

"Ecstatic," Justin snapped. Then he softened. "Brian, just because my mother doesn't want the job of finding us a place, doesn't mean that we can't find one. There have to be at least a thousand other realtors in Pittsburgh."

"Yeah, sure."

"Come on. I'll go look in the Yellow Pages right now."

"Sure, Pollyanna, you go right ahead."

"You know, sometimes I just want to wring your neck. You are so pissy … and exasperating!"

Justin stomped down the ramp and went to find the fucking phone book. He wondered why he bothered. It took next to nothing to put Brian into one of his moods. Maybe this relationship crap wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He grabbed the Yellow Pages and started thumbing through the real estate section.

He knew he didn't want anyone except his mother to find them a place. He wanted her to be happy for him, happy that he had found someone to love … most of the time. He glared up at the partitions that hid Brian from view. He wanted his mother to accept his choice in a partner. Even if Brian drove him nuts there was no one else he wanted to be with. There was no one else that he wanted to share his life with. He didn't think there ever would be anyone for him except the annoying, petulant, sexy, funny, smart … asshole up there in the bed. He slammed the phone book shut.

"Call her," Brian said from the bedroom.

"Who?" Justin asked.

"Your mother. You know you don't want any other realtor."

And clairvoyant, Justin thought with a little snort. "What makes you think that?"

"Partner's intuition."

Justin chuckled. "I was just sitting here thinking about what an annoying asshole you are, and then you go and say something like that."

"Proved your point?"

"But what good will it do to call her?"

"Invite her over. She's never met me. Maybe I can charm her pants off."

"Shit, Brian! Stay out of my mother's pants."

"Fuck, don't put that image in my aching head. I'll be scarred for life."

"You really want me to call her?"

"Yes. Invite her for dinner … if you want to cook."

"If I invite her for dinner you're getting out of that bed and helping. That is, if she'll even come."

"Give it a try, and I'll help you. I'm starting to feel better."

Justin sighed. He wanted his mother to come over and he wanted her to look for a house for them. He wanted her to meet Brian … and like him. He wanted her acceptance. But … he didn't want her to turn him down. He wasn't sure he could stand that.

"Go on. Call. I'll kiss it all better if she refuses," Brian called.

"Asshole!" Justin snorted.

"Call," Brian said sternly.

Justin picked up the phone and held his breath as he dialed.

-----

Two hours later Justin turned down the roast and vegetables that were just about done. His mother should be there already, but she wasn't. When Justin had called and practically begged her to come to dinner, she had given in. Now that the agreed upon time had come and gone Justin began to wonder if she had merely said yes to get him off her back. She must have changed her mind and decided to stay away.

"She's only fifteen minutes late," Brian said. He sat on the sofa having decided to vacate his chair for a bit and try to appear normal when Mrs. Taylor arrived.

"She's not coming," Justin said shaking his head.

"I used to be late for everything."

"You're not my fucking mother."

"Thank God."

"She's very punctual. She would be on time, if she was coming."

"If she doesn't come," Brian said philosophically, "there'll be more roast for each of us."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Justin glared at him.

"I was hoping," Brian said with that little grin.

"Hmmpfff," Justin replied.

"Come here and I'll make you feel better," Brian said with that husky voice.

"Promise?"

"Absolutely."

Justin took a step towards Brian when the buzzer went off indicating someone was at the front door.

"She's here," Justin said with a grin forgetting all about Brian's promise. He ran to the intercom to buzz her in. "Top floor," he said. "Are you ready for this?" he asked looking over to Brian.

"As ready as I'm going to be." Brian felt that little twist of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach.

Justin pulled back the loft door as the elevator came into view. He could see his mother's somewhat apprehensive face staring at him through the grate.

"Hi, mom," he called and went out to lift the gate and give her a kiss. "I didn't think you were coming."

"Hi, sweetheart. I was showing a house and the couple kept wanting to go back for one more look." Jennifer Taylor kissed his cheek and glanced nervously towards the open door.

"Did you sell it?"

"They're thinking about it."

"Come on in, mom, and meet Brian."

"Sure," she said plastering on some semblance of a smile.

They walked into the loft. Brian looked at them from the sofa. "Hello, Mrs. Taylor. You'll excuse me if I don't get up."

"Of course," she said flustered by Brian's statement. Was he putting her on? Was he being sarcastic? He was a handsome devil. Devil probably being the operative word. She could see the wheelchair parked at the end of the sofa where Brian sat.

"Mom, why don't you have a seat in the living room? Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Love one, honey," Jennifer said as she made her way slowly towards Brian.

Brian noted her nervousness. It matched his own. He patted the sofa cushion next to him and she sat down at the other end leaving as much room between them as she could.

"I don't bite," Brian said.

"I'm sure," Jennifer replied with a nervous chuckle.

Brian thought she didn't seem sure about that at all. "So, do you think you could sell this place for me?" he asked having had enough of the useless small talk.

"It's a … lovely loft, very modern and … slick."

"Don't you mean sleek?" Brian asked.

She had the good grace to blush. "Yes, of course."

"Want to list it?"

Justin appeared with three glasses of wine. He handed one to his mother who took it and drank greedily. She hoped it would steady her nerves. This man her son had found was certainly … different, and very disconcerting.

"I told Brian that you preferred not to look for a house for us," Justin said sitting down.

"I … I think you might be better with someone else," she said hoping that sounded like a reasonable explanation for her reticence.

"Someone we don't know and can't trust?" Brian asked sarcastically.

"Of course not," she said annoyed at his tone.

Justin stood up. "Dinner's ready. Why don't we eat before the meat turns to shoe leather?"

"Why don't we?" Jennifer agreed. Anything to get off this subject. "Can I help you?" she asked Justin.

He nodded and led her over to the kitchen. He pulled the roast out of the oven and turned to find his mother staring at Brian who was hoisting himself off the couch and into his chair.

"You could get the vegetables out for me," Justin said handing her a hot pad.

Jennifer dragged her eyes away from Brian. How could her son saddle himself with a … cripple, even if he was a handsome cripple? This was happening way too fast. Justin obviously didn't understand what he was getting into. She had to do something before it was too late.

"Justin…"

"It's too late," Justin said like he had read her mind. "I love him, and we're going to be together no matter what you think about it. I'd rather have your approval, but quite frankly I don't need it."

"Then why did you invite me here?"

"It was Brian's idea."

"It was?"

"He wants me to be happy, mom. He thought maybe if you met him you might think differently about him."

"He's different all right," Jennifer said with a sigh as she dished out the vegetables while Justin carved some meat. She was trying to ignore the handicap but Brian was so in your face about it. She knew it wasn't politically correct to feel this way, but this was her son's life.

Brian had rolled over to the counter by this point. "Want me to do anything?" he asked.

"Pour some more wine to have with dinner," Justin said with a smile.

Brian rolled back to the living room and picked up Jennifer's glass and his own. He held the stems between his knees as he returned to the table. He set them on the table and turned back to the kitchen. Justin handed him his glass and the open bottle of wine. A look of … support and reassurance passed back and forth between the two men. Brian then took the wine to the table in the same way as before and filled each glass.

Jennifer watched all this noting how Brian handled himself. She had also seen the look that passed between them when they were close to each other. She began to realize that her son was very serious about this man and there didn't seem to be much she could do about that.

Dinner progressed with lots of small talk and a bit of joking. Jennifer seemed to relax as the evening wore on. They decided to retire to the living room for coffee. Justin said he would bring it over which left Jennifer to walk with Brian to the other end of the loft. She glanced into the bedroom on the way by. This man certainly had good taste if his loft was any indication, and he had chosen her son. She wished she could be happier about that.

Brian decided to sit on the sofa once again. He managed the exchange without any trouble, pushing the wheelchair around the end of the couch almost out of sight. Jennifer sat down beside Brian.

"I know you don't like the idea of your son being with me," Brian said quietly. Jennifer opened her mouth to protest, but Brian continued before she could formulate her lie. "Don't bother denying it. I told Justin to invite you tonight because I thought I might be able to change your mind about me. I'm not helpless. I don't need Justin to take care of me. I'm perfectly capable of doing that for myself. But I do need him. I need him in my life. And he wants to be here. I hope you can accept that."

Jennifer hesitated. She wanted to tell him that her son would be better off with someone else, but she knew Justin didn't think that. She admired how Brian handled himself and the way he dealt with issues face on. He seemed confident and self-assured, not someone who would depend on her son for everything. Maybe some of her assumptions had been wrong.

Before she could say anything Justin arrived with a tray of coffee. Justin held the tray out to his mother. She took a cup and sipped hers black. Justin extended the tray to Brian who took a cup and loaded it with sugar. She watched Justin's face as Brian shoveled in the heaping spoonfuls.

"Diabetes," he mouthed.

"Back off," Brian mouthed back. Then they both grinned.

Jennifer took a deep breath. "So when do you want me to list your lofts and start looking for your new home?"

Close to Home II

+ Thirteen +

"Where's the fucking corkscrew?" Brian demanded banging around in the drawers in the kitchen.

"Sitting on the fucking counter next to the fucking wine bottles," Justin retorted. He was arranging the food on the dining room table.

"Fuck!" Brian reacted.

"Calm down, Brian. It's just a party. And it's your friends."

"And your mother."

"And your son … and his mothers."

"And your best friend."

"And yours."

"What the fuck are we doing this for?"

"It seems to me that it was your idea. Shouldn't it be me asking you that question?" Justin asked with a wry grin.

"Can we call them and cancel?" Brian asked with his puppy dog eyes.

"Sure, they ought to be here in about five minutes. You could meet them at the door and tell them the party's cancelled."

"Maybe you could…"

"Fuck you, Kinney. There are a lot of things I would do for you, but that isn't one of them."

"You're no help at all," Brian griped.

"I'm no help? What the fuck have I been doing all day? I've cooked and cleaned and slaved over a hot stove to make this party perfect for you, Asshole!"

"I know, I know," Brian said contritely. "I'm just nervous."

"You'd think this was the first fucking party you'd ever thrown."

"It is."

"What? You've never hosted a party?"

"Unh unh." Brian grunted. "Just orgies."

"Christ, one of these days we have to sit down, and you can tell me the saga of your former life."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Justin asked.

"Might turn you off me."

Justin snorted. "I can't imagine that it's any worse than some of the things I've learned so far." Brian raised his eyebrow in that quizzical look. "Shit!" Justin said wondering what Brian's life must have been before he ended up in that wheelchair.

"Do you need any help?" Brian asked deciding changing the subject might be a very good idea.

"I think we're ready," Justin said. "Emmett should be here any minute with the hors d'oeuvres he promised to bring."

The buzzer indicated that someone awaited without. Justin went to the intercom and buzzed them in. He did a last minute scan of the loft. They had moved all of Brian's exercise equipment against one wall, leaving the bench out front for people to sit on. They had brought up some extra chairs from Justin's loft and grouped them near the ramp to the bedroom. Everything seemed to be in its place. This was as good as it was going to get.

As Justin pulled back the loft door, Emmett's head came into view on the elevator. "Hi, hi, hi," he called. Justin raised the gate for him and he carried his two large trays into the loft. "Where do you want these, sweetie?" Emmett asked Justin.

"I'll take one over here," Justin said indicating the coffee table by the sofa, "and you can put the other one on the counter."

"Hey, Brian," Emmett called seeing the man sitting near the end of the kitchen counter. "Want to try one of my delicacies?" He extended the tray towards Brian.

"They look good, but I don't think so," Brian said not sure his stomach could take anything at this point.

"Still watching your figure?" Emmett asked. Even Brian had to chuckle at that.

"Thanks for offering to bring the hors d'oeuvres, Emmett. Justin has had his hands full all day, and I'm not much help."

"You are so," Justin piped in.

"Highly debatable," Brian countered.

"You two are so cute together," Emmett gushed watching the two of them banter back and forth.

"I don't do cute," Brian said sternly.

"Yeah, just like you don't do relationships," Emmett teased.

The buzzer indicated that some other guests had arrived. Justin went to let them in. Emmett watched Brian glance apprehensively at the door and fidget with the position of his chair.

"They're your friends, Brian," Emmett said trying to reassure him. "They're happy to be invited here. They're glad you're back."

"Am I … back, I mean?"

"Bigger and badder than ever."

"You are so full of shit!"

"I know, but you love me anyway."

Debbie and Vic came through the loft door. Vic carried what could only be a cake box. Debbie grinned from ear to ear.

"I told you I'd bake a cake and it's a masterpiece," Vic crowed taking his box to the kitchen.

Debbie came and gave Brian a big hug. "I'm so happy to be here, kiddo," she said.

Gradually the rest of the guests arrived. Brian tensed up when Jennifer and Molly walked in. He busied himself filling wine glasses so that he didn't have to meet them directly. He saw Ted and the munchers arrive carrying a sleeping Gus. Everybody made a big fuss over the baby until Lindsay brought him over to Brian.

"We should put him up in the bedroom so he can sleep in peace," she said.

They made their way up the ramp, Brian leading the way. He took the baby carrier from Lindsay and held it in his lap. He stared at the sleeping face of his son before setting the carrier in the middle of the bed.

"I guess we should get back," Lindsay said when Brian made no move to leave.

"You go ahead," Brian told her. "I want to look at him for a few minutes."

Quietly Lindsay made her way back to the rest of the group. Michael and Ben had arrived. Michael wanted to know where Brian was. When Lindsay told him, he immediately went to find Brian in the bedroom.

"So this is your son?" he said as he arrived beside the bed. "He looks just like you."

"Then I guess he must be mine."

"I want you to meet Ben."

"Um … sure, Mikey. Where is he?"

"Come on." Michael led Brian down the ramp and over to a tall man … that Brian knew he had fucked before. Was it at the White Party? Just before his accident? Brian shook Ben's proffered hand seeing recognition in his eyes. They needed to talk. Michael blathered on about Ben being a professor and how happy they were. Brian said all the right things, all the time wondering what would happen if Michael found out Brian had fucked his boyfriend.

The buzzer indicated that some other people wanted in. Brian released the door and waited for them to appear. It was Trey and Cynthia.

"Did you two come together?" Brian asked with a mischievous grin.

"Asshole," Cynthia responded.

"We met at the front door," Trey said. "Looks like a great party, Brian."

"Thanks Trey, Justin's in the kitchen. Why don't you take Cynthia over to get a drink?"

Trey nodded and as they walked towards Justin, Cynthia turned and grinned at Brian. "I'll see you Monday morning," she said.

He gave her a little non-committal grin and turned back to the door. Brian had seen a young girl hovering behind Trey and Cynthia in the doorway. She must have come up with them. "Hey," he said to her. "Are you Daphne?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "You must be Brian."

"What gave it away?" Brian asked waiting to see how she would answer that.

"The wheelchair was my first clue."

"Did you need more than one?"

"Justin said you were gorgeous, and he was soooo right," she grinned.

Brian liked her immediately. She was honest and forthright and didn't spew bullshit and she thought he was hot. "You're very fuckable yourself," Brian responded. He took her hand and pulled her closer. He could swear she was blushing through her dark skin.

"I think you're entirely too smooth, Mr. Kinney. You could sweep a girl … or a boy off their feet."

"You think so? Even from this sitting position?"

"I'd say you already proved that with Justin," she giggled.

"You say the sweetest things, Miss Daphne."

"Hey, Daph," Justin said coming up beside them and giving Daphne a kiss on the cheek. "I see you've met Brian."

"Oh, yeah."

"What does that mean?" Justin asked.

"Get me a drink and I'll tell you," Daphne said dragging Justin towards the bar. She glanced back over her shoulder giving Brian a big smile.

"Pretty girl," Ben said coming up behind Brian.

"Yeah.

"Brian, I…"

"Ben, I didn't know it was you when Michael told me about his boyfriend," Brian said.

"How would you? We barely spoke."

"Yeah," Brian snorted, "just fucked."

"I think it might be wise to keep that between the two of us. What do you think?"

"I think that makes perfect sense, professor," Brian said staring into Ben's eyes. He could see relief flood those eyes as he finished his sentence. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Ben said moving away.

Brian sighed. Things just got better and better. He wondered what was next on the horizon to fuck up his life.

"Bri?"

"Hello, Theodore," Brian replied. "I didn't see you come in."

"That's me, the invisible man."

"Are you seeing anybody these days?" Brian asked more to make conversation than that he really cared.

"'Fraid not."

"Same old, same old?" Brian sighed. "I heard you and Emmett were an item for a while."

"I'm surprised that made it onto your radar screen."

"It didn't. Michael told me."

"Of course."

"Listen, Ted, you don't have to run yourself down all the time," Brian said wondering why these words were coming out of his mouth.

"It's kind of redundant when there are people like you to do it for me."

"Not anymore."

"No? I won't know what to make of my life," Ted said in mock horror.

"You have a life?" Brian asked.

"Apparently we all have lives and they keep right on going, even when life throws us a curve."

"Yeah," Brian agreed.

"I'm really pleased you're doing so well, and this Justin of yours is … dynamite."

"He's pretty special, but don't let me catch you getting your fuse anywhere near him," Brian warned.

Ted smiled but raised his hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said. "And Bri, it's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Brian said feeling much more like admitting that than when Emmett had said the same thing to him only minutes before.

Brian was sitting in his wheelchair, mulling over what Ted had said, when he felt someone else come up behind him. He sighed as he turned to see who it was.

"Brian, I don't think you've met Molly. This is Justin's sister," Jennifer said.

"Hi, Molly," Brian said looking at the pretty freckle-faced teenager.

"Hi," she responded obviously sizing him up. Jennifer moved away to let them talk.

Someone else who doesn't like me, Brian thought. "Nice to meet you. Justin told me he had a sister."

"He mentioned you too," she said warily.

"Only good things, I hope," Brian replied.

"Depends on what you mean by good."

This was really going well. When in doubt, go for the truth and see what shakes down. "Did he mention the chair?"

"Yeah."

"Does it scare you?"

"A little bit."

"Why?"

"How do you do … things?" she asked.

"Any … thing in particular?"

Molly blushed and then tried to think of something intelligent to say. "How long have you been … injured?"

"Almost three years."

"Is it hard?"

Brian looked into her eyes. He saw sympathy, but he didn't think it was pity. "All the time."

"I'm sorry."

"You had nothing to do with it. It was an … unfortunate accident."

"Do you love my brother?" she asked boldly.

"Yes," Brian said wondering if his face showed the surprise he felt at admitting this to a perfect stranger.

"That's good then," she replied and walked off to find her mother.

"Did the mollusk give you the third degree?" Justin asked bringing Brian a shot of Beam. "I thought maybe you could use this."

"Thanks. I knew there was something I liked about you," Brian grinned. Justin let him throw back the drink before he leaned in and gave Brian a sweet, gentle kiss with just a hint of tongue. "Did you call her mollusk?"

"Yeah, that was her nickname when I wanted to bug the shit out of her."

Brian snorted. "She wanted to know if I love you."

"Oh? And what did you tell her?" Justin asked curious about Brian's reaction to that question. Justin knew that Brian loved him, knew it deep inside, with every fiber of his being. But he had to wonder how Brian would answer that question to his sister.

"One word answer - YES!"

Justin smiled one of his best smiles and leaned back in for a deeper and much more demanding kiss. When he finally released Brian's lips, the man whispered breathlessly, "Can we send them all home now?"

"Not yet," Justin chuckled. "Go, circulate."

"Yes, dear," Brian said wheeling over to where a group sat on the sofa.

-----

Brian lay on his bed, Justin riding his cock for all it was worth. He had become very expert at triggering reactions in Brian. His hand snaked across Brian's groin along that sensitive line. He was almost ready to shoot and he wanted Brian to come with him. Simultaneously he clenched his anal muscles, squeezed Brian's groin with his hands and leaned in for a kiss. He felt Brian groan and the shudders passed through both of them as they shot their loads.

Justin allowed himself to sink down on top of Brian. He had learned that this did not hurt his lover and Brian seemed to like it when they stayed in close contact. He could feel Brian's dick slide out of his ass, but he didn't mind because strong arms came around his back and held him close. He sighed contentedly while he waited for his breathing to slow down.

After a few minutes he rolled off Brian's very comfortable chest and grabbed a tissue to clean up. He watched Brian slide the condom off his flaccid dick. They were so good together.

As Brian tossed the condom into the wastebasket, he emitted a soft chuckle.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Justin asked looking at him strangely.

"Your sister."

"Why? What did she do?"

"She wanted to know how we did … things."

"She did not!"

"Yes, she did," Brian said with a laugh.

"Fuck! What did you say?"

"I turned it back on her and asked what things?"

"You didn't! What did she say?"

"She changed the subject."

"Lucky for you. I wish I had been there for that conversation," Justin said.

"She probably would have made you answer her."

"Would not!"

"Would so!"

"You are such an asshole," Justin said punching him in the upper arm.

"Ow!" Brian reacted.

"Was that before or after you told her that you love me?" Justin grinned.

"Before. She seemed quite satisfied with my response to her love question," Brian said smugly. He could barely believe how easily that answer had tripped off his tongue.

Justin gave him one of those blistering smiles and leaned over for a kiss.

"I think the party went really well, don't you?" Justin asked.

"I don't know. I have nothing to compare it to."

"Then take my word for it," Justin stated.

"They sure ate enough food and left us with a huge mess to clean up."

"It's not a big mess. We can clean it up in an hour or two tomorrow."

"That's good. It needs to be done before Monday morning," Brian said with a self-satisfied look on his face.

"Why's that?" Justin asked.

"I'm going in to Ryder for the morning."

"You are?" Justin smiled. "Just Monday … or every day?"

"You are never satisfied, are you?" Brian demanded trying to look angry. Justin merely grinned. "I'll try it Monday, and if it isn't too horrible, I might go back."

"Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?" Justin asked playing with one of Brian's nipples. He knew this had some interesting results especially when his other hand stroked Brian's groin. He would do that in a minute.

"Are you … proud of me?" Brian asked and Justin could see that he was serious.

"Yes, I am. And everybody was very impressed with you at the party."

Brian snorted. "Like I care what they think."

"You do, or you wouldn't have been so nervous beforehand," Justin challenged him.

"It was because I'm a party virgin. I didn't know what to expect," Brian protested.

"Hearing you and virgin in the same sentence is pretty … unfuckingbelievable."

"Christ, what the hell did they tell you about me?" Brian demanded.

"They said a few things, but not nearly all I want to know."

"Later," Brian said with a smirk.

"Oh, Mom told me she has three places for us to look at. We could go tomorrow or Monday afternoon when you come home from work."

Brian smiled. He liked the sound of that. He was getting a new car, a new home, and a new job … sort of. His life was changing so much, and all for the better. But the most important part of it all was right here in bed with him. Without Justin he would have none of the other things.

Justin's hand brushed gently across Brian's groin, and Brian groaned in response. "Let's talk about that later," he moaned as the pressure of Justin's strokes increased.

"Later," Justin whispered as his lips captured Brian's.