Justin smiled tightly at his next customer.

He was a regular. A Brandon Something-or-the-other, who thought himself to be the up and coming Stud of Liberty Avenue; but he was really nothing more than a wannabe Lothario and a poor imitation of the true Stud. This man, while charming and handsome, had neither the dark, sexy good looks nor the charisma of the current stud; and he was only setting himself up for disappointment in a land where King Kinney reigned supreme.

Not that Justin would ever tell Kinney that; nor had he ever sampled any of Kinney's charms himself being a man with a healthy amount of self-respect and enough sheer stubbornness to back it up. He was all too aware of Kinney's love-them-and-leave-them-panting-for-more persona and he had absolutely no intentions of falling down that rabbit hole, fruitlessly chasing after a man that simply did not want to be caught.

And Justin would; chase him that was if he'd ever gotten a taste. Because he was realistic and had seen the man in action and no one could resist going back for a second taste of nirvana based on the long trail of broken hearts the man had left in his wake.

Had he been a younger, much more naive man, and had he actually ventured out to the Avenue as he'd planned a few months after his seventeenth birthday; and had he actually met the man before learning of his reputation, Justin had no doubt that he would have been one of the brokenhearted many. But, instead of hitting Babylon as he'd intended, Daphne had dragged him off to a college bar she knew and he'd met Ethan instead.

But that was an entirely different story and one that didn't need repeating.

Justin nodded his head, barely holding back his impatience as the other man droned on and on, plying him with all his best moves and come-ons in the hope that Justin would finally fall into his bed. One that Justin had absolutely no interest in and he was hard pressed not to simply give in and yawn in the annoying prick's face.

Fuck, where was Daphne when he needed her?

Oh, that's right – she was at home sick with the 'flu,' which he had a feeling was more of a hangover than the actual flu given the fact that he knew damned well she and 'her girls' as she called them had hit Babylon without him last night. And why a bunch of straight women wanted to go to a gay club, he had no idea; but he was pretty sure that he'd overheard Daphne mutter something about wanting to 'enjoy the scenery without being mauled by the wildlife,' or the like the last time he'd asked her.

He'd never understand women; thank God he was gay.

Justin ran his hand through his hair before taking the proffered ten-dollar bill that the lewd libertine waved in front of his face. Barely quelling the urge to roll his eyes, Justin grabbed it and stuffed it into the drawer, groaning internally when Brandon winked and told him to keep the change. Stuffing the five and some change into the tip jar, Justin sighed in relief when Brandon finally moved away and was replaced by someone else. He wasn't certain how much more he could take of the other man's antics.

Smiling at Todd, Justin didn't even have to ask he wanted; it was the same each and every time despite Justin trying to get him to step out of his comfort zone – a tall Caramel Macchiato with a brie, apple and ham breakfast croissant. And if he was feeling adventurous, he'd add a smear of apple chutney.

"The usual?" Justin asked with a smirk.

"Yes, Justin," Todd responded with an exasperated smile. "We go through this every single time. I'm a creature of habit and see no need try anything new."

"That's because you've never tried our Raspberry White Chocolate Muffins," Justin enticed with a teasing smile, making the other man roll his eyes.

"Just the Macchiato and the sandwich please," Todd huffed, pulling out a twenty.

"Fine," Justin sighed, ringing up the order. "But mark my words; one day I will tempt you with something you cannot resist. And then, I will mark it down in history as they day you finally caved to good sense."

Todd opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut in annoyance when he was interrupted by the jackass leaning against the counter staring at Justin's ass.

"You can tempt me any time," Brandon purred; he licked his lips and leered, his eyes slowly running down Justin's body as if he wanted to eat Justin alive.

Which he probably did. Asshole. Never in a million years.

Justin sent Brandon a withering glance; which seemed to go over the other man's head as he just grinned unrepentantly, making Justin want to stab him with a spork. Impractical? Yes; but oh-so-satisfying if he could pull it off. He was certain he could find a stainless steel spork somewhere; and if he couldn't, then he'd have one custom-made.

Turning back to Todd, Justin huffed in irritation and shared a commiserating look with the other man; both of them found Brandon to be insufferable on the best of days and a complete and utter waste of time and space on the worst. And then there were days like this where Justin seriously considered homicide knowing full well that between him and Daphne they could so get away with it.

No one would miss the little snot.

Handing Todd his change, Justin smiled when the other man stuffed a couple of dollars into the tip jar, and then took a centering breath before he annihilated the asshole still looking at Justin as if he were a prime cut of beef. He once again reminded himself that blood on the floor was unattractive, unsanitary and so not the statement he wanted to make for his quaint little coffee shop and café. No matter how artistically splattered.

He sighed and prayed for strength.

Typically, even on the worst of days, Brandon didn't get to him; he could usually ignore the asshole. But he was having a particularly shitty morning today and it was only half over. As, not only had Daphne, his baker, bailed on him this morning; meaning that he had to be in at four in the fucking morning to take her place, on his day off! But then his morning cashier called in sick with the same 'flu.' And since September was one of Daphne's minions, he had a feeling he knew just when this so-called 'flu' came on.

This was followed by the fact that the order he'd been counting on this morning came in late and was missing half of his ingredients. That meant that he had to get a little creative with the menu as he couldn't do several of the planned menu items. Thank God he didn't actually have a set menu for the café otherwise he'd be seriously pissed.

And then to make matters worse, his first customer of the day had been his ex-boyfriend, Ethan; who had recently decided that if he hung around the café, casting cow eyes at Justin long enough, that Justin would cave into his dubious charms once more. It was ridiculous as Justin hadn't even been the one to end the relationship with the cheating bastard; Ethan had gone away for some gig in Europe and had fallen in love with, and married, some idiot teenager, who claimed that Ethan was the love of his life.

Funny, how lifetime loves only last six months when you're eighteen. Bet Ethan was kicking himself over that one; especially since Justin was having none of his bullshit when he decided to re-enter Justin's life, spouting his usual 'but we're soul-mates' and 'you're my muse' rhetoric. And then proceeded to hang around like a bad smell testing the numerous ways Justin could tell him 'no way in hell' much to his annoyance.

Could this day get any worse?

Justin turned to the next customer and then smiled with genuine warmth and amusement; Drew grinned back, but Justin knew that the other man's attention wasn't on him at all, but on the tall, effeminate and flamboyant man two back in the line. Honestly, the continuing dance between the Ironman quarterback and his friend Emmett was just gold; he really wished the two of them would stop fucking around and just get on with it already, putting them all out of their misery.

"Hey Drew, what can I get for you today?" Justin asked, internally rolling his eyes when Emmett snuck a quick glance at the football player and then whispered slyly to Blake before they both giggled.

Idiots. All of them.

"I'll have a large Earl Grey with room for cream," Drew said, his eyes trained on a smirking Emmett. He smiled and then looked back at Justin. "And I'll take two of your Cranberry Orange muffins for me and a Chocolate Banana muffin as well for the coach."

"Bob is going to hate you for that," Justin laughed, ringing up the sale. "You know his wife has him on a diet and he can never resist those things."

"I know," Drew smirked, a devilish glint in his eye. "But that's what makes me his favorite; I take those Honey Bran muffins she insists on sending with him and replace them with the Chocolate Banana and what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"You know you aren't fooling her," Justin snickered, handing Drew his change; and then he sent an exasperated look towards a leering Emmett, who was practically drooling as he stared at the Ironman's ass. "She's well onto your games."

"I know," Drew laughed, shoving his change into the tip jar; but his eyes strayed to Emmett once more. "She's taken me aside and told me exactly what she'd allow in terms of 'breaking' his diet. And on that, what the coach doesn't know won't hurt him."

"You're terrible," Justin shook his head and then huffed with exasperation as Emmett's and Drew's gazes collided, but they still didn't do anything about it. "Do me a favor? Ask him out before I lock you two into the supply closet and throw away the fucking key. This is getting ridiculous."

"I will," Drew promised, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he licked his lips and leered at a flushing Emmett. "Soon; but for now, I'm having fun."

Justin huffed again and waved him off; well, at least he'd tried.

Shrugging his shoulders, Justin turned to the next person in line, and had just smiled at Leda when he heard the tinkle of the door bell. Glancing up, Justin groaned and nearly beat his head against the counter – because there in the doorway, her nose firmly stuck in the air, stood Lindsay Peterson with the true Stud of Liberty Avenue on her arm, preening like a queen as all eyes turned towards her.

Wrinkling his nose, Justin sighed and pinched the bridge of it, and realized that, yes, his day could indeed get worse. He really should not have tempted Fate that way. Looking up, he stared balefully as the problem child of the reality TV show called Pittsburgh Princesses strolled into the café as if she owned it and braced himself for the cameras and drama that always followed her.

And sure enough, there were a few shutterbugs, one lone cameraman, a sound man and other apparently necessary staff entering on her heels; fuck, this was the last thing he wanted to deal with today.

A spin-off of The Real Housewives series, the Princess series focused on the affluent, spoiled and pampered daughters of said Housewives and gave a bad name to the wealthy and elite, (his own family on his maternal side included), due to their over-the-top, entitled and obnoxious behavior.

Not to say that the wealthy couldn't be arrogant and entitled all on their own; in fact, Justin despised the vast majority of them because of the airs they put on and their view that they were better than others just because their bank accounts held more zeros than the average person. But, he also couldn't help but count, and resent, the number of times that Molly had run afoul of protesters, who painted his sweet, well-mannered and good-natured sister with the same brush as these beastly brats.

His mother had raised them right; and had they acted like these petty, insipid, pampered princesses, (Pipp for short), she would have tanned their hides.

Although, he did have to smirk at the scowl on Brandon's face when Brian Kinney stepped through the door, an indolent smirk pasted on his face. That alone made his entire week; especially when Kinney looked the other wannabe stud over and then dismissed Brandon as unimportant, forcing the other man to storm off in a high dudgeon.

He might just have to thank Kinney for that somehow; perhaps with his cock in Justin's…no, bad Justin! Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!

Justin sighed, his eyes traveling over the dead sexy brunet, and momentarily wished that the man wasn't such a playboy; because damn, he was fucking gorgeous. And most definitely hazardous to his heart; especially when Kinney homed in on him and a deliciously sinful smile spread across his face. And then a hot hazel gaze followed in its wake, slowly sliding over Justin's body like caress, heating it from the inside out.

Fuck, how did he do that? Every time Brandon did it, Justin just felt the need for a shower; and not of the cold-I'm-about-ten-seconds-from-ripping-off-your-clothes variety, but of the, ugh-I-need-to-slough-the slime-off-my-body variety. But with Kinney, Justin was very tempted to say fuck his principles and beg the other man to fuck him in the back office. At least twice. Maybe three times.

Christ; he needed to get a grip.

Reluctantly dragging his eyes away from the brunet God standing in the doorway, Justin smiled at Leda and decided to ignore Pipp and the God for now; he had other customers to wait upon. Leda sent him a knowing smirk that had Justin glaring silently at her; which, in turn, just made her laugh and place the usual order for her and Mel, who was sitting at a table near the window. Evil bitch. He just knew she was laughing at his reaction to Brian, having been on the receiving end of more than one of his rants on the Stud.

Leda found it utterly amusing that for as much as he professed to not like Kinney and his love-them-and-leave-them ways, Justin also lusted after him like a dog in heat. What? He was human and the man was a God as he'd said earlier. Sue him!

Snickering, Leda opened her mouth, likely to tease Justin further about his fixation, when she was jostled to the side. Snapping her mouth shut, she turned her head and glowered at a simpering Pipp, who was doing her damned best to look sexy, but really only looked as if as if she'd been nailed in the head with a two-by-four. And just who she'd intended that look for, Justin didn't know; but he hoped like hell it wasn't him.

The mere thought of having Pipp panting after him turned his stomach.

Kinney stood beside her, a camera bag slung over his shoulder and his face fixed into a mask of boredom, but Justin could see interest flickering in his eyes as they studied his ass. Squirming under that lecherous gaze, Justin flushed and fought the urge to shiver when their gazes clashed and Kinney smirked knowingly before slowly licking his lips.

Licking his own parched lips in response, Justin squirmed again as the other man's eyes darkened and dropped to his mouth, staring at it with an intensity that made him shiver in truth this time. And then he quickly looked away and took a steadying breath, focusing on the till in front of him for dear life as he absently rung up Leda's order and took her money. Not that it helped any. He could still feel Kinney's scorching gaze on his body and it was making him envision all sorts of deliciously decadent and wicked things that Kinney could do with the tongue poking in his cheek.

This was so not helping his minor obsession with the man.

Handing the money over to a still sniggering Leda, Justin grinned when Leda stuffed a five in the tip jar and then shouldered her way past a simpering Pipp, purposely jostling her as she passed. Pipp huffed, but stared lustfully after Leda as she made her way to her table, all the while licking her lips in appreciation. That was not going to end well given the glare on Mel's face; which, if looks could kill, would have had Pipp splattered all over his pristine oak flooring. Because, then Justin would have to resurrect her and kill her himself for destroying his floor since blood was a bitch to get out.

Glowering at Pipp, Mel cracked her knuckles audibly and stared her down; Justin could almost hear the eerie whistle of a cowboy showdown and the howl of the wind in the background as Mel contemplated putting Pipp in her place. And that frightened him as Mel was a scrapper and he wanted nothing to do with that; not in his shop.

Luckily for him, he didn't have to as Pipp got the message and swiftly turned to (her date?) Kinney and fluttered her lashes. Kinney rolled his eyes at her syrupy smile and went back to being bored with the world. And really, Justin had to admire his dedication to looking as uninterested as possible with the woman at his side. Sadly, Pipp didn't seem to get the message as she giggled and flirted and cast cow eyes at the very obviously gay man. Her obliviousness was rather astounding.

Sighing, Justin couldn't help wondering if she was playing straight or gay today given that she was eyeing him, Kinney, Leda and Mel in equal intervals. He could never tell with her fluctuating sexuality from week to week. Not that there was anything wrong with having a fluid sexuality; but why she wouldn't just break down and admit that while she mostly liked women, she also liked a bit of dick on the side, he didn't know. There was nothing wrong with simply saying you were bisexual.

Justin looked at Pipp one more time and then resolved to ignore her.

"Hey, Emmy Lou," Justin smiled at the flamboyant man in front of him, mentally snickering when Pipp scowled at his blatant snub. "How's tricks?"

"Divine as always, darling," Emmett simpered, fluttering his lashes and preening when Drew looked over at him from his usual table; one that amazingly gave him the perfect view of the order line. Wonder why that was? "Divine as always."

"You are terrible," Justin snorted, shaking his head at his friend's antics. He looked over at Blake, who just rolled his eyes at the ongoing flirtation between Pittsburgh's premiere party planner and their favorite out-and-proud Ironman. "When are you going to put that poor man out of his misery?"

"As soon as he gets the balls up to ask me out, darling," Emmett smirked, blowing a kiss at an equally smirking Drew. "A Queen like myself needs to be worshiped; and until that happens, the boy will just have to pant and ogle from afar."

"You're as bad as he is," Just said, rolling his eyes. "One of these days, I'm going to get the two of you in the same place and I'm going to find a closet and lock you both in."

"Mmmm…" Emmett licked his lips. "Please do."

"Incorrigible," Justin laughed, secretly enjoying the interactions between Emmett and Drew as much as they annoyed him.

He flicked his eyes to the side and grinned inwardly at Pipp's annoyed expression at being ignored; nothing less than she deserved. Honestly, over-entitled, spoiled brats annoyed the shit of him. This one in particular given the things she'd said about Molly; but that was another story. He glanced at Kinney again and inhaled sharply when he found smoldering hazel eyes riveted on him.

Fuck! What was it about him that sent Justin into a tailspin?

Mesmerized, Justin stared into them, his body flushing once more under the power of that gaze; and it took everything in him to not grab the other man, slam him against the counter and have his wicked way with him. A flicker of a smirk flit across Kinney's mouth as if he were all too aware of the track Justin's thoughts had taken. Justin tore his eyes away, silently cursing his susceptibility to outrageously gorgeous brunets.

"So, what can I get for you?" Justin squeaked; and then he cleared his throat, his cheeks heating further at Emmett's wide and knowing grin. Fucker!

"I'll have a large Pumpkin Spice Latte with extra whip and a drizzle of caramel," Emmett said, his grin broadening at Justin's obvious discomfort. He'd get the asshole back for that later. "And one of those divine Chocolate Turtle muffins and whatever Blake wants."

"Em…" Blake protested as his eyes flicked between Kinney and Justin curiously. Fuck. Justin just knew that he'd be getting a call about this tonight. "You don't have to…"

"Nonsense." Emmett waved Blake's protests off with a flick of his hand. "I owe you for lunch the other day. I still can't believe that I forgot my wallet; so embarrassing."

"It was the diner," Blake huffed. "It wasn't like it was a hardship by any means."

"Still." Emmett shrugged, rolling his eyes and shoving Blake's ten-dollar bill away when he tried to hand it to him. "A lady always pays her debts."

"Fine," Blake said; he rolled his eyes and stuffed the ten into the tip jar instead. Justin smiled; his cashiers and baristas were going to be happy campers at the end of the week if this kept up. "Two large regular coffees, one with an extra shot, both with room for cream, please; and two of your lemon and poppy seed muffins."

"Boring!" Emmett intoned, drawing the word out as he handed a couple of twenties over to Justin.

"We're eating breakfast," Blake huffed, defending his choices to Emmett as he usually did every time the came in. "Not dessert."

"Still boring," Emmett stated without remorse, pinning Justin with a gimlet eye when he tried to hand him his change. Shaking his head, Justin stuffed it into the tip jar. Oh, yes; definitely a bunch of happy campers this week. "But whatever you want, darling."

And then with a jaunty wave, Emmett stepped away; he walked over and leaned against the pick-up counter, his ass jutting out strategically, and again, within perfect view of a drooling Drew. Snorting, Justin exchanged an amused, but exasperated, look with Blake as he too stepped away from the counter. He stood by Emmett, carefully out of the line of sight of the two men, who were eye fucking each other yet again.

Rolling his eyes, Justin turned back to the line and nearly groaned aloud when he realized that there was no one else in line. Frantically looking around the café, Justin looked for anything else that he could possibly do rather than deal with Pipp; but alas, he could find nary one pressing thing to occupy his time until Hunter came in to relieve him of his cashier's duties, which should be any time now.

Mentally sighing, Justin fixed his face into a polite mask, drew on his inner WASP and smiled that smile that his mother taught him – you know; the one that seemed friendly, but really said eat-shit-and-die. He was pretty sure that Pipp would recognize it for what it was being a WASP herself, but wouldn't comment as it would be far more embarrassing for her to call him out on it than it would be for him to do it. After all, she really wouldn't want the world to know just what he thought of her.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a chilly tone, all the while still smiling that smile.

Pipp fixed an equally frosty smile on her lips, finally recognizing him for who he was. Yeah, that's right you mindless bitch; bet you won't forget me anytime soon. You want to take on one Taylor, you get the rest of us on your ass. And I'm considered to be the nice one; you so don't want Mommy Taylor riding that flat, uninspiring ass of yours.

As for Kinney, he snorted at Justin's lack of enthusiasm when greeting Pipp, instantly drawing a scowl from the woman at his side. Kinney just stared back blandly, completely unaffected by her ire, and arched a brow as if to say, 'fucking get on with it.' Pipp huffed at Kinney's lack of defense and then turned back to Justin with a haughty expression.

"I'd like a large, decaf, soy latte with an extra shot and cream," she demanded, her lips curled into an unattractive sneer.

Not that Justin thought she was all that attractive to begin with; even if he had been attracted to women instead of men. Oh, he supposed that she was pretty in a purely aesthetic way; he couldn't deny that, but then she opened her mouth and it marred any smidgeon of physical attraction she possessed. Mentally rolling his eyes, Justin grabbed a cup to write down the order and then paused as her words finally registered.

"Excuse me?" Justin asked; he looked at her incredulously, uncertain if he'd heard her correctly. Kinney smirked and then chuckled a little at his expression.

"A large, decaf, soy latte with an extra shot and cream," Pipp said with a haughty tilt to her nose; and really, Justin wondered how she didn't drown when it rained with her head tilted to that degree. Although, she likely had some poor minion on standby just to hold her umbrella. "And make it snappy; I don't have all day."

Justin just stared at her uncomprehendingly for a long moment; then he looked back at Kinney, who'd covered his mouth to smother another laugh at this point, just to make sure this was actually happening and not some weird, sleep-deprived hallucination.

"Is this a prank?" Justin demanded, looking around the café suspiciously. "Is that why that guy over there has a camera? I thought Ashton Kutcher hosted Punk'd. Although, I would much prefer being pranked by your companion than Kutcher..."

"Why would you think it's a prank?" Pipp huffed, her mouth pinched with annoyance. Justin goggled, still unwilling to believe that she wasn't fucking with him in retaliation for his earlier actions; but Pipp just stared back and gestured for him to get on with it.

"Are you serious?" Justin demanded yet again; there was no way that someone could be that…actually, he didn't even have words for what he thought of her order as his brain simply refused to comprehend this level of utter mindlessness.

"Of course I'm serious," Pipp huffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder; and then she preened when she saw that everyone was staring at her. She somehow failed to notice the incredulity and disdain in their expressions; not that Justin was surprised by it.

Or maybe she just ignored it; any attention was good attention to most of these twits.

Shaking his head to clear it, Justin once again looked at Kinney for clarification, but got none when the man just rolled his eyes and shrugged. Justin then looked back at Pipp and said, "Wait, so let me get this straight…you want a decaf coffee with soy milk; and then you want me to add an extra shot of espresso and cream to that?"

"Yes." Pipp blinked and stared back at him as if this was a perfectly reasonable request; which to her, it likely was. But Justin was having none of it.

"No." Justin stated; because he was just fucking done at this point.

He'd already had a shit day between having to be in at fucking four in the damned morning, followed by serving the masses because Daphne and her minion called in sick. He'd had to completely revamp his menu on the fly because the idiots at his supplier couldn't get a fucking order right. And then he'd had to listen to the simpering and whining of Romeno, the wannabe famous fiddle player.

He was so not dealing with this shit today.

"What do you mean no?" Pipp demanded; staring at him as if she couldn't believe that he'd dared to refuse her order. Justin stared back implacably.

"Exactly what I just said," Justin stated, completely unmoved by what he sensed was the beginning of a WASP temper tantrum. He'd sparred with better and had come out the victor; this wannabe, nouveau riche bitch had nothing on him and his counterparts. "No. If you want caffeine and cream added, just order a fucking regular coffee with cream."

"I don't appreciate your attitude," Pipp huffed, flicking her hair yet again.

Justin just arched a brow and contemplated whether or not he could grab his scissors fast enough and chop the offending hair off before she'd even noticed. It would certainly solve one annoying issue; even if it left many more in its place.

"First, you rudely ignore me…" Pipp complained to no one in particular, an aggrieved expression on her face as she started to get wound up.

Justin looked at her blandly. I'm rude? I'm not the one who pranced her way in here as if she owned the fucking world, cut to the head of the line without so much as a by your leave and then acted like a spoiled bitch when she was rightfully ignored.

"…While I was standing there, right in front of you," Pipp continued, working herself into a fine tizzy. "And now you're refusing to make my order? Just who do you think you are?"

"Justin Fucking Taylor," Justin stated; ignoring Kinney's snort as he mockingly held out his hand to Pipp. "Nice to meet you. I'm the guy who has the right to refuse or offer service as I choose; and I chose to serve the people who actually waited their turn in line before some snotty brat who barged to the head of it."

Pipp's mouth gaped open. She blinked; and then she blinked again in astonishment before her mouth snapped shut and pinched as if she'd sucked on a dozen lemons. Her nose scrunched as if she'd smelled something foul. Likely her attitude.

"Do you know who I am?" she demanded haughtily, making Justin roll his eyes; like he could ever forget the entitled bitch much to his annoyance.

But instead of responding, Justin made a loud, game buzzer sound, sending the rest of his patrons, all of whom were avidly watching the scene, chuckling. Kinney just leaned against the counter with a small smile, his rapt gaze bouncing between Justin and Pipp as he too watched them with ill-concealed amusement.

"Wrong question." Justin said, smirking when Pipp frowned in confusion.

"What?" she asked uncomprehendingly.

"You asked me if I knew who you were," Justin reminded her; and then he lifted a single shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. "And I said – that's the wrong question to be asking."

Pipp stared at Justin, unsurprisingly flummoxed by his statement. Despite being a so-called WASP, subtlety was often lost on her. And as he'd said before, a war of wits this was not.

"And just what is the right question?" Kinney asked in a silky tone, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. He'd obviously caught onto Justin's game.

"Ah! There is intelligence in this one." Justin grinned and pointed at Kinney, who preened at the acknowledgement. "At least one of you possesses it." Justin turned back to Pipp with a condescending smile. "The right question is – do I care who you are?" He paused for a drawn out moment, relishing Pipp's sour expression. "And – if you couldn't tell from my demeanor – that would be a fuck no."

"Well, I never!" Pipp huffed, one hand pressed to her chest.

Justin smirked and gave her a thorough once over.

"Yeah, I can easily believe that," he snickered, not bothering to maintain his mask of politeness at this point. The kid gloves had come off long ago and he didn't give one fuck if Pipp, and others of her ilk, never graced his door again.

Pipp gasped and looked even more affronted if that were at all possible.

"Because, in order to do that, you would have to remove the stick from your ass," Justin continued, his eyes sliding appreciatively over a still preening Kinney; and then he flicked them back to the apoplectic woman in front of him. Puce was not her color. "As, I'm not certain if you noticed this; but that man is queerer than a three-dollar bill and has no interest in that thing you call a puss…"

"I'll have you fired for this!" Pipp cried, cutting him off; which was likely a good thing, as friends or not, Leda and Mel would have kicked his ass if he'd used that word.

"No you won't." Justin stated confidently; as the owner of the café, there was no way that would ever happen. Honestly, know thy enemy before you engage in battle.

"Let me speak to your manager and we'll see what they think about that," Pipp hissed; although it ended up having all of the effect of a drenched kitten on Justin.

"Sure!" Justin quipped with a bright grin; he made a big production of moving away from the counter, paused and then leaned back against it and gave Pipp an even larger smile as he asked. "What can I do for you?"

Snorting with amusement, Kinney smirked and then had to look away when Pipp glared at him; but Justin could tell by the shaking of his shoulders that he'd caught on and was desperately trying to hold back on his laughter. Unsuccessfully so.

"I told you to get me your manager!" Pipp demanded, her cheeks flushed with temper.

"And I just did," Justin intoned with another bland smile; one that broadened as Pipp's eyes widened in comprehension. "Justin Taylor – manager and owner of this fine establishment since…well, since I opened it three years ago. How can I help you?"

Pipp just stood there, her cheeks brick red with embarrassment at her mistake, and silently fumed at a smirking Justin. Kinney walked a few steps away and leaned against the bakery display, huffing and wheezing as he tried to contain his mirth.

"Can't exactly fire myself," Justin blithely said; and then he cocked his head thoughtfully. "Although, I suppose it could be interesting to try. How would one go about that without looking completely crazy do you think?"

Pipp remained silent, while Kinney dropped all pretense of containing his amusement and gave a full belly laugh much to Pipp's irritation.

"I suppose I could look at myself in the mirror and tell myself that way," Justin mused, scratching his chin as he stared off into the distance. "But then I'd just be talking to myself and that is a whole level of crazy I don't want to touch." He paused and then turned back to Pipp with an earnest look. "Maybe I should make a video? And then I can send it to myself and watch it. What do you think; do you think that might work?"

Pipp spluttered, her cheeks flaming as she looked around the café, finally noting the laughing patrons around her. All of whom had been caught by the far-too-gleeful cameraman and other assorted film people that followed her on a routine basis.

Yeah, take that you bitch; bet you'll think twice about coming after my sister next time, won't you? This is nothing more than you deserve and only a small taste of what's in store for you for fucking with the Taylors. Scurry off while you can.

"I'm never coming here again!" Pipp haughtily announced with a flick of her hair; not that anyone in earshot cared. In fact, Justin wouldn't be surprised if he actually got even more customers if they actually put this on the show.

"I'll try to survive the heartbreak," Justin said, his tone dry as the Sahara. "Be sure to pass that on to your friends for me. It would spare me from having to deal with more self-entitled, prissy little princesses like you."

Pipp attempted to stare him down one last time, but Justin just leaned further into the counter and gave a negligent wave, hoping that it would send her on her way. Huffing she spun on her heel and gestured to Kinney, who just shook his head in disbelief and continued to lean against the display case with a grin. Mouth agape, Pipp stared at the deserter for long moment; and then huffed, turned an unattractive shade of purple and flounced off, her camera crew scurrying out behind her.

Sighing, Justin waited until she and her entourage were out of sight before he slumped against the counter. He dropped his head into his hands and pressed his fingers against his temples, trying to fight back the headache blooming behind his eyes. Fuck this day.

Taking a few deep breaths, Justin ignored the rustle of clothing as Kinney moved from the display case to stand in front of him. And then he took a few more as he tried to regain his composure before he confronted the very sexy man leaning against the counter. Feeling a bit steadier, he finally looked up and met the amused, and frankly interested, hazel eyes that continued to laugh down at him. They stared at each other for a long moment before Justin smirked and tilted his head to the side.

"Welcome to Taylor Made Confections; and how may I deflate your ego today?" Justin snarked wearily, returning Kinney's frank appraisal.

"Marry me." Kinney demanded, a genuine smile on his face.

Justin's brows shot into his hairline, surprised that such a comment even jokingly spilled over love-them-and-leave-them God Kinney's lips. And then he smiled – that bright sunshine grin that he been told melted the coldest of hearts – and quipped.

"Well, that's a little sudden; how about we start with a date first?"

"So, then Nadia told Jinni that there was no way in hell that she was going to be attending her tea party until she apologized for stealing her dress," Lindsay prattled on, forcing Brian to roll his eyes and bite back another yawn.

Why he continued to subject himself to the woman's utter mindlessness, he didn't know. But it likely had to do with the fact that her contacts were endless and had been very lucrative to his fledgling photography business in the beginning, and a fool he was not. His mother hadn't raised any fools. And now, it seemed as if he was stuck with her.

"I mean, she didn't literally steal her dress," she continued on as if he gave one shit for the endless dramas of her social set. "She just went and bought the dress that Nadia had been eyeing for the past week out from under her. And good thing too since Nadia would never have been able to carry off that particular shade of…"

Brian rolled his eyes again and tuned her out as he had better things to occupy his mind than the latest scandal in Heteroville. Specifically, the reason they were in the car and headed towards Taylor Made Confections; or well, the reason he was heading for the popular coffee shop and café. It had nothing to do with the coffee or the award-winning baked goods (as carbs were evil and detrimental to his hard-worked for ass).

No, it had everything to do with the proprietor of said shop – a particularly hot little blond with a bubble-butt that wouldn't quit.

Justin Taylor.

Now that was a treat that he couldn't wait to taste.

If he could ever get the elusive blond to pay attention to him that is.

Justin Taylor had been on his radar from the first moment that he'd stepped onto the dance floor at Babylon. It had been a particularly slow night and the pickings had been…well not slim, but he'd had most of them. And the ones he hadn't, didn't measure up in one way or the other. To be honest, he was kind of getting bored with the entire game, but had yet to meet anyone worth the time and effort beyond a quick fuck.

And that was when he'd seen him.

Brian leaned against the railing of the catwalk with his friends – Michael, Michael's 'husband' Ben, Emmett, Ted and Ted's boyfriend Blake – gossiping about God knew what, as he looked for his next trick. His eyes swung out across the sweat-slicked bodies, writhing and grinding against each other on the dance floor, including several of whom were trying to garner his attention, and barely stifled another yawn. Not a one caught his eye.

What was with the lack of pickings lately? Had he really gone through all the fuckable men in Pittsburgh? If that were so…well, that was just sad. He couldn't have fucked them all; could he have?

Sneering down at the dance floor, Brian rolled his eyes in disgust at the thought. That couldn't be it, because there were still several hot guys present; ones that he knew he hadn't fucked just yet. He just didn't want to. It was just all so…tedious these days.

So, maybe it was just him; maybe he was just tired of the same old games, with the same old tricks, who all eagerly rolled over onto their backs, or stomachs or knees, all for a crack at his dick. There was no challenge anymore; and frankly, he was bored.

Or maybe, God forbid, he was finally growing up and…

And then a trick moved to the left and he saw him.

Brian's breath caught and held in his chest as his gaze homed in on the most beautiful man that he'd seen in a long time. Heart racing triple time, his eyes raked over the slim blond dancing with the aforementioned unworthy trick, and he had to wonder how he hadn't noticed him sooner. And then the trick moved again, blocking his view of the delectable blond, much to his aggravation; and he no longer wondered why he'd missed him, as the slender blond was several inches shorter and smaller than his dance partner.

At least, he hoped that he was just a dance partner and not a boyfriend; it would seriously fuck up his newly formed plans for the evening if they were together.

"Move the fuck out of the way…" he muttered under his breath as he craned his neck to catch another glimpse of what had to be new meat. No way would he not have noticed the blond before this – not with that bubble butt; one that was made for fucking.

And fuck, he knew how to move it too.

Brian smirked as the blond pushed away from the trick, easily evading his reach as he moved back into Brian's line of sight; only to start dancing with another undeserving wannabe trick, whose eyes lit up like he'd just been told that it was both Christmas and his birthday, all at the same time.

The blonde smirked up at the redhead; he slowly slid his eyes over the trick's body; and then, as if deeming him worthy of his time, spun around and pressed against the other man, back to front with his ass neatly cradled against the redhead's groin. And then he began his mating dance once more, teasing and taunting the man with the sinuous roll of his hips until the trick was panting and ready to come just from that alone.

Little prick tease; he'd love to show him what happened to little boys who played games; and all night long at that.

Brian gripped the railing, his knuckles blanching as he avidly watched the beautiful blond, his eyes closed as he lost himself to the music; Blondie took up and discarded tricks right and left as he cut a path through the dance floor, leaving a trail of disappointment in his wake. And fuck, if Brian didn't want to be the one that he stayed and spent the night with that evening.

Actually, he definitely wanted more than one night with the audacious tease; he couldn't see one night being enough given the blonde's bountiful gifts. And –

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"What do you think, Brian?" Michael asked, cutting through his blond-fueled haze just enough to register the question, but not enough for him to care to answer.

"Don't bother," Emmett tittered. "I know that gleam in his eyes. He's on the hunt; and we don't even exist in his world right now."

Brian absently flipped Emmett off, his eyes only for his chosen prey; thus proving Emmett's words and making all of them laugh. Whatever.

Tuning them out once more, Brian licked his lips as he watched the little blond build up hope with each new trick, and then dash it as he moved on with a careless shrug and bright smile. Always remaining elusive, always giving just enough, and then moving on to his next victim before anyone could get too amorous.

And he decided right then and there that, by hook or by crook, the luscious, little blond would be in his bed by the end of the night.

No way in hell that was he going to let all that beauty be wasted on a sub par trick; which surprised the hell out of him as he didn't typically go for twinks. He preferred his men to be older, taller, darker and of the gym bunny variety. The ones that proclaimed that they were an exclusive top, but by the end of the night were whining and writhing in his bed, begging to be fucked.

He didn't do short, blond waifs, even if they did move like sin incarnate; but there was just something about this one that had him captivated.

Keeping his eyes anchored on the blond, Brian grunted a halfhearted goodbye to his friends, turned on his heel and stalked down the stairs to claim his prize; which the blond was, whether he knew it or not.

He couldn't wait to feel that tight, compact body moving against his; only he wouldn't be fobbed off so easily by the hot little blond like the others had. He'd played this game a lot longer and could easily hold his own.

That was, of course, when his phone decided to chime (not that he heard it over the music) and vibrate, alerting him that he had an incoming call or text.

Cursing under his breath, he eyed the blond and briefly considered ignoring it; but he also knew that Claire was ready to pop any day now and she could be a vicious, vindictive bitch when ignored. And he didn't want to be on the end of her temper, especially if she was in labor; he'd been her birthing coach after all, since she'd decided she didn't need a man to have the children that she'd always wanted.

Fuck his life.

Sighing, he reluctantly pulled out his phone and checked the message; and sure enough – his sister was in labor and demanding his presence at the hospital for the birth of his godson, John. Swearing under his breath, Brian was torn between wanting to be there for his sister and wanting a taste of the beautiful blond twink that he just knew was going to be spectacular once he got him into bed.

He glanced back over to where the blond had last been dancing; and then swore again when the blond was nowhere to be found. He spun in a circle, searching the bars, the bathroom line and the smaller dance floor in the back, but nothing. Either the tempting, little blond had made his escape or he was in the backroom, finally taking pity on one of the poor sots he'd been teasing all night.

Fuck his luck!

Growling his displeasure at the thought, Brian shoved the phone back into his pocket and walked out, fuming that he'd lost the little blond. But he remained determined in his intended pursuit and knew that there would be other days; he was, after all, Brian Kinney and no man could resist him for very long. He'd just have to keep a look out for the beauty on another night.

If only it had been that easy.

It should have been that easy; but Fate was a fickle bitch and decided to make him work his ass off to acquire his chosen prey this time. And it seemed that the longer he was denied a taste of his newest obsession, the more he wanted him.

This determined pursuit was so unlike him.

But he couldn't help himself much to his friends' amusement; and if he had to listen to Emmett taunting him one more time, he was going to gag him, wrap a bow around his ass and then tie said ass down in Drew's bed. He was certain that Drew would thank him for his thoughtfulness; and Emmett would as well in the end. You know, once he was done being annoyed that his game was up after the post coital glow had worn off.

In fact, the only ones who hadn't supported his determined pursuit had been Michael – but that was only because he was equally as determined to set Brian up with one of his comic geek friends and that was…just no – and Lindsay. Why? Because for some reason she still stupidly believed that if she shoved her tits in his face long enough, he would suddenly decide that dick wasn't his thing. And again, just no.

Not that he cared if she approved or not; he wasn't in the business of reassuring delusional twits. She had Buffy or Muffy or Biffy, or whoever the fuck was her best friend this week, to soothe her wounded ego every time Brian shot her down. In fact, he couldn't wait to see her expression once she realized where they were headed. He knew she hated Justin Taylor with a passion and he couldn't wait to rub it in her face.

Maybe then, she'd catch a clue.

"And then Jinni told Nadia that it was a good thing she bought the dress first as Nadia would have looked like a…" Lindsay blathered on completely oblivious to his disinterest.

Then again, maybe she wouldn't.

Brian bit back a sigh, shared an exasperated look with her unfortunate cameraman of the day; who then rolled his eyes and made a face, making Brian smirk. The things they both had to put up with for their jobs. He was pretty sure the guy's name was Brad or the like, but Brian usually only referred to him as Hotlanta as, one – that had been the slogan on the shirt he'd been wearing when they met the first time – and two – he had certainly lived up to said slogan when Brian had fucked him later that night.

Hotlanta sighed, rolled his eyes again and looked out the window, utterly bored to have been assigned to Lindsay once again. Brian didn't blame him as he felt the same way most days, but that was neither here nor there. As he said, he had more important things to contemplate and he turned his thoughts once more to the blond mystery that kept him up, in more ways than one, most nights.

The second time he'd seen Justin, had also been the time that he'd finally learned his name since the assholes he'd asked were closed-mouthed about the blond. At first he thought it was because they were annoyed that he was more interested in Justin than them; but then he'd had the misfortune to run afoul of the lioness that was his best friend and their reticence made much more sense.

He hated to admit it, but he was still quaking from that brief meeting.

Brian leaned against the catwalk railing, for once alone as Emmett had spied his poison for the night, Ted and Blake had left and Mikey and Ben were on some life-reaffirming couples bullshit that Brian had paid no attention to. He couldn't see how communing with nature and those twits that ran the GLC was going to 'strengthen their bond' and remind them of their place in the 'grand circle of life' but to each their own.

Frankly, he thought it sounded boring as fuck and he'd rather reaffirm that he still had a dick by finding a nice tight ass to plow; which he'd happily get on with if anyone looked even remotely appealing. Unfortunately, since the night he'd seen Blondie, everyone else seemed to pale in comparison; which was seriously fucking with his ability to even get his dick sucked, let alone enjoy a quick, mindless fuck in the backroom.

He needed to have his head examined.

Annoyed by his thoughts, he scanned the dance floor, determined to find someone at least passable to suck his dick and then paused. A wicked grin spread across his face when he spied a familiar blond once again holding court in the middle of the dance floor, with a ring of drooling idiots surrounding him, all hoping to be the one he chose.

Like hell.

Brian certainly wasn't going to miss his chance now that there was nothing to stand in his way – Mikey was off braving the wilds with Zen Ben; Lindsay was stuck with mommy and daddy at some must be seen at charity event; and Claire was tucked away at their parents house taking advantage of the extra hands so she could actually sleep. And the others, well he wouldn't have cared if they were here as they knew how to entertain themselves and certainly didn't need his help with that.

There was no way in hell that Blondie was slipping through his fingers tonight.

Striding down the stairs, he kept one eye on Blondie and the other on navigating his way through the crowd, blatantly ignoring the come hither looks sent his way. Been there, done that and he had his entertainment already lined up for the night. Smirking as the crowd that had built up around the blond groaned at his approach, Brian came to a stand still a few feet from Blondie, licking his lips as he watched the blond shake and shimmy.

Running his eyes slowly over Blondie, lingering on one spectacular body part, he pushed the remaining stragglers out of the way and pressed himself against the luscious bubble-butt that he'd been obsessing over for the past two weeks. The blond looked over his shoulder in surprise, not expecting someone to be so bold as to enter his personal space, and then stopped and stared, his eyes wide as their gazes collided. And then he swallowed and shrugged, as if trying to keep his cool, and then pressed his delectable ass into Brian's crotch and continued his tantalizing dance.

Brian hissed in pleasure and wrapped his arms around the blond, further invading his space and pulling him firmly against him, and then smirked again when Blondie made a startled gasp at his audacity. The blond made to pull away, obviously used to calling the shots, but Brian held firm and then smiled when after a few seconds of tension the blond sunk back and pressed against him in acquiescence.

That's right little boy; I'm the one in charge now.

He slid his hands up under Blondie's shirt and licked a stripe up his neck and jaw line, humming when Blondie tipped his head to the side to allow him better access. And fuck did he smell good – musk and clean sweat, the faint remnants of a subtle cologne that suited him and a hint of citrus that must have been from his soap or shampoo.

And he tasted even better.

Grinding his dick against that spectacular ass, Brian let Blondie lead their dance as this was one skill that Brian did not possess. The best he could hope for was a sexy sway and grind; then again, dancing was never a priority in his mind and was only a prelude to much more fun things to come. He didn't need to do it well because his words, looks and reputation had the men falling all over themselves to suck his dick. They didn't care if he could dance as long as he left them begging for more.

But for some reason, this blond had him wanting more than just a quick fuck in the back room for the first time in his life; and if it meant spending more than the usual two to five minutes swaying to the beat to get him there, he'd do it. Plus, it gave him an opportunity to see what he was getting – you could tell a lot about the way a man fucked by the way he danced. Usually. He was the exception to the rule on that; while he might not know how to dance he certainly was more than adequate at fucking them into the bed.

Groaning when Blondie took that moment to grind his ass into Brian's cock in retaliation, Brian spun him around and yanked his body against him. Staring into dazed blue eyes, Brian smirked and then captured the pretty pink lips that had been haunting him for the past two weeks. Blondie startled at first, and then groaned and opened his mouth when Brian licked against the seam and nipped at his lower lip to gain entrance.

Cupping the back of Blondie's neck, Brian drove his tongue between the parted lips and proceeded to devour the other man, licking and sucking and teasing until Blondie was a writhing mass of desire. He chuckled and shoved his thigh between Blondie's and rubbed, instantly gratified when he felt the other man's hard dick against it.

Blondie hissed and pressed even closer, if at all possible, and began to ride Brian's thigh much to the surprise of the other dancers around them. And Brian couldn't help feeling a bit smug knowing just how elusive and in control this particular blond liked to be on the dance floor. He pulled back from the temptation of Blondie's lips and flicked a quick look around; and he couldn't help thinking, 'I've still got it. That's right; watch and weep boys. This one is all mine!'

And then he dove back in, not about to give the blond a chance to stop and think and potentially flee once more. Not this time. Blondie didn't know it yet, but he was his .

Brian didn't know how long they'd stayed like that, hands running over each other, hips connected and lips sliding over any sliver of exposed skin they could find; but he'd just been about to suggest they go back to his loft when he came eye to eye with the lioness – a.k.a Blondie's best friend. She stared at him for a full minute with murder in her eyes and then turned her attention to Blondie with an outraged screech.

"He's fucking gone again!" the lioness said, effortlessly pitching her voice over the music and startling Blondie out of his groove much to Brian's disappointment.

"What?" Blondie asked; he looked around with a bewildered frown on his face as if he was trying to figure out where the lioness had come from.

"Justin!" the lioness hissed, drawing Blondie's – Justin's – attention back to her once more. "Are you paying attention to me!? He's gone again!"

And it was great to finally have a name to go with the face.

"Daphne…" Justin sighed, obviously more than a little exasperated by his friend's interruption. He waved his hand between Brian and himself, an incredulous look on his face. "Can't you see I'm a little busy!?"

Daphne huffed, glared at Brian once more and then grabbed Justin's hand.

"Not anymore!" Daphne spat and yanked the protesting blond away from Brian; which only served to piss Brian off.

No way! No way in hell was this happening again!

But when he moved to reclaim his prize, the lioness hissed and cast an evil eye his way. Brian halted, briefly taken aback by the hostility and challenge he saw in cold, brown eyes; it was enough to stop him in his tracks, wondering what he'd ever done to piss in her cornflakes. She gave him an evil little grin and then turned to a spluttering Justin.

"Let's go!" she hissed, tugging on the blonde. "I can't believe he's fucking gone again and you need to deal with this now before I kill your brother!"

"But…!" Justin exclaimed, but it fell on deaf ears.

"You'll thank me later," Daphne said, spinning on her heel.

"No, I won't…" Justin muttered, tugging fruitlessly on the hand that held him in its steel grip and dragging him away.

Brian couldn't help but agree with the sentiment; but like all people when met with an unmovable object, he didn't quite know what to do to regain the upper hand. He'd never been so thoroughly cockblocked in his life; and he didn't like the experience one bit.

"Do you even know who you were dancing with?" Daph demanded as she looked at Justin over her shoulder.

"A hot guy?" Justin asked sarcastically; Brian couldn't help snorting at the comment, gaining himself a bright, sunny smile from the other man. One that left him breathless.

Brian stared at that smile, stunned by how it transformed the other man; and the only word that he could he could think was, 'beautiful.' Justin cocked his head a little and his smile brightened just that more when he noticed Brian's less than subtle reaction. Brian shook his head and tried to regain his composure, but then Justin dipped his head and gave him a flirty little look through his lashes, making his dick stand at attention.

Fucking tease.

"Honestly," Daphne said, snorting at what had to be Brian's poleaxed expression; and then she shook her head and turned around, dragging a resistant Justin with her. "You've heard of the man's reputation, but didn't bother to find out what he looks like? Un-fucking-believable. Now on to your pain in the ass brother."

"Daph, I'm not getting involved in yours and Chris' tragedy of a relationship," Justin spluttered, but seemed resigned to having his night ending. "I like my balls right where they are – functioning and attached to my body."

"You better," Daphne threatened as they plowed through the crowd. "I might seriously kill him this time…"

He tried to get his evening back on track once Justin and Daphne had left, but after finally getting a taste of the beautiful blonde, no one else looked even remotely palatable. It was like Justin was a fever beneath his skin; and one that wouldn't be quenched until he had the beautiful, sassy blond in his bed.

"Brian!" Lindsay snapped, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Are you even listening to me!?"

Brian bit back a sigh and rolled his eyes.

"No." He arched a single brow at her annoyed huff. "What? You knew the answer long before you even asked me; so don't give me that look."

"It would behoove you to pay attention to what I'm saying," Lindsay scolded, obviously irritated that Brian wasn't hanging off her every word the way she did with him. Not that he gave one shit about it. "You never know when it might pay off later in life."

"Please," Brian snorted. "You know I have absolutely no interest in the whom-is-fucking-who-behind-whose-back game within your little menagerie of acolytes. As I've always said; unless it's my dick in your ass or mouth, it's no one's fucking business."

"Well," Lindsay huffed, one hand on her chest. "You don't have to be crude about it."

This time he did roll his eyes and snorted once more.

"What's up your twat?" He asked as the car came to a halt in front of Taylor Made Confections. "This is the way I've always been; and I have no intentions of changing that. Fuck, it's like you don't even know me some days."

"I know your mother taught you better manners than that," Lindsay griped, digging through her purse for God knew what. Hopefully not whatever God awful perfume she was wearing; he'd nearly choked and his eyes had teared up when he had first gotten into the car, the cloud of scent was so thick around her.

"My mother?" He outright laughed at that statement; his mother wouldn't know good manners if they bit her on the ass. "The hippie wannabe who swears like a sailor when she stubs her toe? Are you sure we are talking about the same person? Because I guarantee that my mother would have probably beat me to it. Now can we please get out of the car? I have more important things to do today."

The 'and it's not pandering to you,' was obvious, but went unsaid.

Lindsay growled under her breath and pasted a fake smile on her face as she signaled for her driver to open her door. Brian shook his head at her antics and opened his own door, desperate to get out of the sedan before he suffocated on Eau de Lindsay; a scent that was specifically crafted for her, but reminded him of something his Grandmother Kinney would wear.

And that was not a compliment no matter how much he loved his grandmother.

Brian sighed and wondered once again why he put up with this insufferable woman; it must be that his stories endlessly entertained his mother. She got a kick out of Brian constantly thwarting and shattering all of Lindsay's heteronormative, white-picket dreams starring his truly. It had become a bit of a game between the two of them to see who could come up with the most creative way to say, 'no way in hell.'

So far, he was winning.

He couldn't help smiling when he thought of the loud, cheerful, brash and mischievous woman. God he loved her. He couldn't have asked for better parents and he was thankful for hers and his father, Jamison's – or Jamie as his mother Catherine called him – support over the years; especially when he came out with a bang and burned the closet down during high school.

Although, in truth, she wasn't his mother at all, but actually his aunt. His birth mother and father had both been killed in a car crash after his father had stupidly driven home drunk one night when Brian was a baby. They had been out, carousing at his father's lodge, celebrating some promotion Jack had gotten at work, when he decided that the five drinks he had didn't mean shit and wrapped their car around a telephone pole.

Luckily, it had been a single-car accident and the asshole hadn't taken anyone, but his idiot wife along with him; and that Brian and his sister had been at said aunt's house that night. Otherwise, he would not be here to stalk…err…tantalize his favorite blond. He had often wondered what his life might have been like had they lived, but it was fleeting and he really couldn't complain about the life he had lived.

You couldn't miss what you had never known.

And speaking of entitled, delusional people, Brian grimaced when Lindsay immediately latched onto his arm as she swanned into the coffee shop and café as if she owned it and him. He was tempted to shake her off, not wanting to fuel said delusion, but went along with it at the moment if it meant getting her ass through the door sooner.

He had a blond to tempt.

Brian casually looked around for his chosen prey when his eyes fell onto a familiar, scowling face. He smirked internally when Brandon tried to square up and get in his face; the idiot never could get over the fact that Brian turned him down for a fuck and had subsequently stolen his chosen trick of the evening. He was tempted to say something just to piss the other man off, but instead turned away, knowing that ignoring him would piss him off even more.

He smirked when his ploy worked and Brandon stormed out of the coffee shop, accidentally leaving his coffee behind. He did so love to irritate the other man. When Brandon had crashed onto the scene, determined to steal the Stud title, Brian had quickly and effortlessly quashed the other man's ambitions, leaving him to look like a fool and frothing at the mouth angry. But hey, if you can't stand the heat…get the fuck out.

Shaking his head, he pushed aside his wayward thoughts and homed in on the reason he was going out of his way to visit said coffee shop. His eyes clashed with the deep, cerulean blue ones that seemed to stare straight into his soul. They slid over him covetously and he couldn't help the sinful smile that slid across his face. God, the things he could, and would, do to that ass.

Flicking his eyes back up, he grinned and a jolt of lust shot down his spine when he noticed that Justin was giving him a similar treatment. Their eyes clashed for a second time and the blond blushed and reluctantly turned to the next person in line, who just happened to be Leda, a.k.a the woman who stole the hottie lawyer away from Lindsay. Her words, not his. Frankly, he thought the two unsuitable and his cousin (by marriage), Mel, was much better suited to Leda than Lindsay any day.

Not that he'd mentioned that to Lindsay; he much preferred to save his ear drums from her caterwauling and screeching. Instead, he'd introduced Mel to his business partner – Leda was also a photographer, but she focused on landscape and architecture rather than people – and the rest had been history. And thank God for that.

He'd rather…

"Stalking your favorite blond again?" Emmett asked sotto voce as he and Lindsay passed, yanking him from his thoughts.

He'd halted next to Emmett and Blake to answer when he noticed Lindsay puff herself up and flick her hair much to Em's annoyance. Barely quelling the urge to roll his eyes as Lindsay mistook Em's words and preened, Brian refocused his attention on the tall Queen and glared at the simpering man. He was not stalking anyone!

Yet. Well maybe a little; but could anyone who seen that bubble-butt blame him?

"Not that I blame you; that bubble butt is to die for," Emmett unwittingly echoed his thoughts. "So, much better than some others' attributes." He then paused to look pointedly at Lindsay. "Or the lack there of…"

Lindsay scowled, huffed, flicked her hair again and stalked off at the implied insult. Brian just shrugged and sniggered, while Blake coughed politely and covered his mouth to hide a grin; Em just watched her leave with a bland expression, completely unrepentant; and then he cast a sly look at Brian, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Why; if I weren't so enamored of a certain someone," he continued, flicking a flirtatious smile Drew's way.

Brian did roll his eyes then – and he'd been doing a lot of that this afternoon; if they didn't get their act together soon…he was going to lock them in his studio bathroom and force them to end this endless dance before they drove them all insane.

"I'd be all over that myself," Em said, fluttering his lashes and fanning himself as he looked over at Justin; and then he smirked at Brian's scowl.

"Hands off, Honeycutt," Brian growled.

"Oh, my, my, my," Em twittered; and then outright chuckled when Brian just continued to glare at the Queen. "Someone's got it bad…why, one would even think that the Big Bad is a wee bit infatuated with our darling little…"

"Fuck off," Brian huffed and stalked off.

"Now, now, Big Bad," Em called, but Brian ignored him and went to stand by Lindsay, who had insinuated herself next to Leda and was obviously trying to jump the line. Much to the entire shop's annoyance. "No need to get testy! And don't call me Honeycutt!"

"Think we'll see him at Babylon?" Blake asked, but Brian tuned them out.

He didn't really want to hear his friend's far-too-knowing words and sly innuendos. Plus, he had more important things – or was it people; or really, one person – to do.

Justin glanced over at Lindsay just as Brian leaned against the counter, his face fixed into a weird amalgamation of annoyance and perturbed. Brian fixed a bored expression on his face; mostly to hold back a snort at Lindsay's poor attempt at looking sexy. He could have told her it was wasted on both Justin and Leda's parts, but he was far too amused by her antics to stop it; especially when both Leda and Justin just rolled their eyes and ignored her.

Put out, Lindsay swiftly turned to him and fluttered her lashes. He gave her a bored look at her syrupy smile and went back to imaging his favorite, and thus far elusive, blond pinned to the counter as he plowed into him over and over again. But Lindsay didn't seem to get the message as she giggled and flirted and cast cow eyes at him, prattling on about something or another. What exactly it was, he didn't give a fuck.

Instead he focused back onto Justin, his dick twitching as their eyes clashed again and Justin's lips parted slightly and his cheeks flushed a delicate, aroused pink. A noticeable shiver wracked Justin's body as Brian held his gaze and licked his lips, a slow knowing smirk stealing over them. He couldn't help wondering if the blond was thinking about their time in Babylon as well – their bodies pressed together with hands and lips and teeth and tongues exploring every inch of exposed skin that they could find.

Fuck; he needed to get this tempting little morsel in bed soon before he lost his God damned mind.

Justin licked his lips nervously, drawing Brian's attention to them; he stared at that perfectly shaped mouth and imagined all the things that he wanted to do to it and have it do to him; most notably, having them wrapped around his cock. Justin squirmed, flicked a quick lustful look over his body and then just as quickly looked away.

Leda smirked at the two of them and said something to Justin, but Brian – too busy imagining all the ways and places he could violate that body – didn't hear it. In fact, he was just about to say something to draw the blonde's attention back to him – where it belonged – when Lindsay's prattling finally broke through his lustful haze like a bucket of ice-cold water. He shook his head to clear it and stared at the woman in disbelief, certain that he had heard her wrong, but her next words proved to him otherwise.

"And just think, Brian," Lindsay gushed, as if she hadn't just been eyeing him, Justin, Leda and Mel in equal measures; this even with Leda rudely jostling her as she left the counter. "We could share a house! This way you'd be able to see your son or daughter every day and you'd never have to miss out on a single thing…"

"Wait, what!?" Brian exclaimed, aghast at the very idea.

No way! No way in hell was his sperm touching anything in or on or even around that woman! He would rather go celibate for the rest of his life than ever chance the certain hell his life would become if he gave into her whims. He was an out and proud man that in no way wanted to be stuffed back into a closet – one that he'd burned the fuck down when he came out – by someone with designs on his pocketbook.

No way in hell!

"I knew you weren't listening to me!" Lindsay bitched; but Brian didn't give one fuck. That Lindsay even had the balls to ask him for his baby makers floored him.

"Well, now you have my full attention," Brian griped as a cold-sweat broke out over his body; his heart palpitated, and his stomach roiled at the mere thought of being bound to this insipid woman. Maybe it was time to cut the ties; he certainly didn't need her patronage any longer. "And I pray to all the divinities that I did not hear you correctly. You want me to what?"

"Just think of it, Brian," Lindsay simpered, fluttering her eyes, a syrupy smile pasted on her face as she placed a hand on his arm and leaned into him. "With your genes and mine, we would make beautiful children together. You wouldn't even have to be an active part of his or her life. You could just be…an uncredited cameo in his or her life."

"Joy," Brian muttered, just barely quelling the urge to shove Lindsay off of him. He stared at her with an implacable frown. "And just why would you think I'd agree to that?"

"Well, I was just being considerate," Lindsay smiled coquettishly and gazed coyly through her lashes. "I wouldn't want you to have to give up your current lifestyle just because I was having your baby. But if you really wanted a larger part of his or her life, I'm sure we could come to…some sort of arrangement."

"I'm gay! G-A-Y GAY!" Brian spelled out, just in case there was any question in her mind. While Lindsay had no problem swinging from team to team, the mere thought of pussy made Brian want to hurl; and he had no intentions pretending otherwise just to fit in so-called polite society. "So, just how would you suggest we go about that?"

"Well, you know…" Lindsay let the words, rife with innuendo; linger in the air between the two of them. "I wouldn't be averse to…."

Brian threw-up a little in his mouth at the thought. Like seriously, and actually, threw-up in his mouth. The bile rose up, burning an unrelenting path, and coated the back of his throat; his stomach churned at the visual that Lindsay had so ruthlessly inflicted upon him and he threw-up in his mouth. It was a first, but certainly not the last time if he didn't shut this shit-show down right the fuck now.

"GAY, Lindsay," Brian emphasized again, just so that there was no question about it. "So very fucking GAY; which means I fuck asses, not twats."

"No need to be crude about it," Lindsay huffed.

But if I didn't; you would be planning your happily ever after and my living hell in your head. And just no fucking way.

Brian just stared her down and she huffed again, noticeably offended by Brian's abject disgust. Like he fucking cared as it would likely take him weeks to get that image out of his mind. Where the fuck was the brain bleach when you needed it?

"Well, there of course is always the donor option," Lindsay huffed petulantly, her arms crossed over her chest. "We could go to a clinic, where you would…do your thing." She paused and jerked her hand in a well-known motion, a disgusted frown on her face. "And then the doctor would take care of the rest."

Brian just stared at her incredulously. Because seriously, what the fuck? But Lindsay either didn't notice his expression or, more likely, ignored it as she prattled on.

"And just think…" Lindsay waxed on, a whimsical smile on her face and a disturbing glint in her eyes as she envisioned their so-called life together. "You'll be able to make your mother a grandmother! You can't tell me that Catherine wouldn't be thrilled to have another grandson or granddaughter. I mean, she's been gushing over Claire's pregnancy from the moment that she found out about it and you know she has often lamented that she might never have a biological grandchild by you…."

He shut that right the fuck down with three words and a glare.

"No fucking way."

"But…" Lindsay said with a frown, but Brian wasn't about to let her get another word out.

"I would rather superglue my tongue to my deceased birth mother's twat," Brian said with an emphasis on deceased. "And she has been dead for nearly twenty-seven years."

"Well, I never…" Lindsay gasped.

"And you never will if I have anything to say about it," Brian stated implacably, casting a gimlet eye upon her. She just fluttered her hands, obviously ruffled at his words, and then looked away, a tight smile on her face.

Brian sighed and clenched his hands to stem the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose; he had a bad feeling that she hadn't really given up on her quest for his baby makers, but was just pausing to regroup. Not that it would do any good. If he ever had a child – IF he had one – he certainly wouldn't be an 'uncredited cameo' in said child's life. He would very much be an intrinsic part of it and raising his son or daughter himself.

He would never allow someone, mother or not, to raise his child while he flitted in and out as drop-in dad. Not only would his dad be disappointed in him, but his mother would actually kill him if he even considered giving into Lindsay's half-baked plans.

Drawing in a deep breath, he shook off his aggravation and turned back to Justin, smirking when he noticed that the other man was once again purposely ignoring Lindsay to chat with Em. Lindsay huffed and puffed and gasped in annoyance, but it seemed that Justin was far better at this game as he just continued to smirk and watch her affronted behavior through the corner of his eye.

And then deep-blue eyes flicked towards Brian and the blond drew in a sharp breath as their gazes collided once again. Brian stared back, letting his eyes tell the blond exactly what he wanted to do to him and soon. Justin fidgeted, his cheeks stained pink as he chewed his bottom lip and stared right back, the blue darkening to almost black as his pupils dilated, and fuck if Brian wasn't tempted tell all these fuckers to get the fuck out while he pinned the blond to the counter and fucked him within an inch of his life.

Brian smirked as Justin tore his gaze away and seemed to be muttering to himself under his breath before he turned to Emmett with a bright smile. He squeaked, cleared his throat and then asked Emmett what he wanted while Emmett just grinned at him knowingly. Then Em looked over at Brian and raised a single brow as if challenging him to get off the pot and do something about it. Like he was one to talk with the never-ending tease that was his and Drew's so-called courtship.

He swore that the two of them was just drawing this fucking thing out to annoy all of their friends. It had been going on for over three months now, with no end in sight. If they didn't hook up soon, Brian was going to get drastic and give Emmett something to get jealous about, rather than all the faux games they liked to play.

And speak of the devil; or the other half of the equation. Brian turned to an approaching Drew with a smile. Brian took a moment to appreciate and admire the other man; but had no intentions of taking it beyond that. While he appreciated how well the man was put together, he would never poach.

Plus, he was too invested in a certain blond spitfire to care.

"Drew," Brian greeted as the other man leaned against the display counter next to him; not that Drew's attention was on him. "Long time no see."

"Hey Brian," Drew said, his eyes firmly attached to Emmett's ass; Brian huffed and rolled his eyes. Drew blushed and snapped to attention. "I just wanted to thank you for your work on the Brown Athletics shoot. I was really uncomfortable at first, being the only one standing around in his underwear, but your suggestion put me at ease."

"Not a problem," Brian purred and smiled, flicking a lewd gaze over the man in front of him. Hey, he might be obsessed with his spitfire, but he wasn't dead. "Trust me; it wasn't a hardship at all."

"Yeah," Drew smirked. "I suppose getting to see all those hard bodies nearly nude wasn't much of a hardship for you."

"It's a tough job," Brian sighed, one hand flung dramatically over his heart. "But someone has to do it."

"And you do it well," Drew intoned solemnly.

"Well," Brian said with a put upon frown. "I don't want to toot my own horn, but…"

"Spare me the false modesty," Drew snorted and rolled his eyes. "I know better."

Brian and Drew shared a smirk and then laughed, drawing all eyes to them. Brian looked over at Em and Justin, who were both pretending that they weren't trying to listen; his smile broadened and he turned back to an equally smug Drew.

"Speaking of the photo shoot," Drew hesitantly said. "I wanted to hire you for another."

"Sure," Brian nodded; he was a bit surprised given that the Brown shoot was only a few weeks ago and he didn't imagine that they'd need more; but maybe he needed some headshots or the like. "Just have your agent contact Cynthia to work something out. I'm a bit busy for the next two weeks, but after that there should be a few openings."

"Uh…actually," Drew hedged, his cheeks turning a bright pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. Brian arched a brow; that was an interesting reaction. "I…I'll just give her a call myself; this is more of a private matter."

"Really?" Brian couldn't help but purr the word, drawing a bark of laughter from the other man; but it did succeed in relaxing Drew, as he had intended in the first place.

"Not like that," Drew chided; Brian pretended to be disappointed. "I just want to do a special, private shoot. Something a bit risqué; something that might catch the eye of an…someone I admire."

"Seriously?" Brian asked, staring at the man a bit incredulously.

Oh, it wasn't like Brian hadn't done such shoots before; he had. But he remembered all too well how shy Drew had been just posing in his underwear for the Brown shoot. That he seemed to be asking for…nudes if he understood this right, was a bit surprising.

Drew nodded a bit sheepishly and flicked a look over at Em.

"Why not just send him a dick pic," Brian asked, a bit exasperated. "That will perk his interest a whole lot faster than anything I can do."

"I'd prefer a tasteful dick pic, thank you very much..." Drew huffed.

"A tasteful dick pic?" Em asked as he left the counter and headed towards the pick-up area. "Is there such thing?"

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," Drew said, staring intently at Emmett.

Brian huffed as the two eye-fucked each other for a few seconds; and then Em pranced his way over to the pick-up line and leaned against the counter, his ass prominently on display. Drew licked his lips and stared, his eyes boring into Em's ass as if he could will Emmett's pants away with the sheer power of his mind.

"You're pathetic." Brian griped. "I thought it was bad when Michael was trawling the Emergency Room for unsuspecting accident victims for a date, but at least he got one."

"All in good time, my friend," Drew grinned his eyes lingering on Em's ass. "All in good time." He flicked his gaze over to Brian as he walked back to his table. "I'll give you a call later this week to set up an appointment."

Brian nodded and turned back to Justin, who was staring at an annoyed Lindsay with a deer in the headlights look. He looked around his shop, obviously looking for anything else to do than deal with Lindsay; but when he came up with nothing, he gave a resigned sigh and turned to her, looking as he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Can I help you?" Justin asked in a chilly tone, all the while still smiling that smile that told Lindsay that he wanted her to eat shit and die.

Brian snorted and couldn't help feeling amused; it was a look that he'd often seen on Lindsay's face when she had to deal with someone she didn't like or thought was beneath her. That it was now being given to her, and by someone from higher up in society that she – yes, he'd heard all about that ad nauseam - it did his heart good.

Finally someone wasn't afraid to dish a little of her own back.

Lindsay fixed an equally frosty smile on her lips; or, at least she attempted it. It was a decidedly pale and weak thing in comparison to Justin's frost king impression, making her come off more like a mewling kitten rather than the Ice Queen she attempted. Justin just yawned and fixed her with a bored stare, completely unmoved by her shenanigans.

Brian snorted and then watched in rapt fashion as Lindsay gave her order to an incredulous Justin, who shot down each of her efforts to needle him with aplomb. And really, it had Brian's dick leaking and twitching in his pants as Justin annihilated her time and time again, leaving Lindsay a huffing, puffing, confused mess.

It was, quite simply, a beautiful thing to watch; especially when Justin outright refused to cater to her whims and instead of answering her demands to know why, he made a game buzzer sound and informed her that she was asking the wrong question.

Which, of course, had him insinuating himself into the conversation as, judging by the uncomprehending look on Lindsay's face, they would still be standing there hours later while Lindsay tried to figure it out. And he didn't have time for that shit.

"And just what is the right question?" Brian asked with a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face, knowing exactly where Justin was going with this.

"Ah! There is intelligence in this one." Justin grinned and pointed him; he preened at the acknowledgement. "At least one of you possesses it." Justin turned back to Lindsay with a condescending smile. "The right question is – do I care who you are?"

Justin paused and Brian couldn't help relishing Lindsay's sour expression; Justin really needed to teach him how to do that. He'd been trying to shut the insipid bitch up for years, while the snarky blond managed to shut her down in mere minutes.

"And – if you couldn't tell from my demeanor – that would be a fuck no." Justin smiled that diamond-sharp, fuck-off smile once more.

And it just made Brian want him even more; because fuck, that was hot!

They exchanged a few more insults, mostly weak and pathetic on Lindsay's end, with Lindsay saying she'd never come back and threatening to boycott the shop. Not that Justin seemed to care; in fact, he invited her to tell all her friends to stay away as he didn't have the time to deal with 'self-entitled, prissy little princesses.'

That just seemed to infuriate Lindsay even further and ramped up Brian's own desire to have the luscious blond. Lindsay attempted to stare Justin down, but Justin simply leaned against the counter and gave a negligent wave and a bland, butter-couldn't-melt-in-my-mouth smile. Lindsay huffed, her cheeks a mottled red as she spun on her heel and gestured to him that they were leaving, but like fuck was he going to get into that car with her and listen to her bitch.

His mama didn't raise no fool.

Plus, he had a blond to pin down, (in every delicious way possible), while he held him captive and his guard lioness wasn't around.

Waving her off, Brian watched as Lindsay's mouth gaped and she turned an unattractive shade of purple; and then she flounced off, her camera crew and laughter following in her wake. He waited until she threw herself into her waiting sedan and zoomed off before turning to the much more interesting enigma slumped against the counter.

Brian watched in fascination, his interest in this man gaining by the second, as Justin took in a few weary breaths and regained his composure. And he couldn't help a snort of laughter as the blond looked up at him, a hint of mischief sparkling in tired eyes as he smirked and tilted his head to the side.

"Welcome to Taylor Made Confections; and how may I deflate your ego today?" Justin snarked wearily, returning Brian's frank appraisal.

"Marry me," Brian demanded, slightly surprised as the words came out of his mouth; but then he mentally shrugged and went with it; because why the fuck not?

Justin's brows shot into his hairline, evidently as surprised as Brian that that such a comment even jokingly spilled over his lips. And then he smiled – a bright sunshine grin that could melt even the coldest of hearts – and quipped.

"Well, that's a little sudden; how about we start with a date first?"

Brian smirked and then leaned forward onto the counter, putting their lips just a hair-breadth away from each other as he whispered, "What are you doing Friday night?"

"Nothing special." Justin swallowed thickly, but held his unwavering gaze.

Brian leaned further into the other man and he relished the soft gasp as his lips brushed softly against Justin's as he murmured, "I can change that."