Brian sighed and stared at the building, shining like a beacon, in front of him; and then pinched his nose again, praying for the strength to deal with whatever madcap adventure his fiancé  and his morons in crime had managed to land themselves in this time. He opened his eyes and glared balefully at the hospital’s emergency room doors and vowed that if those idiots managed to get his fiancé  injured once again, there would be hell to be paid.

 

He swore to God, all three of the little menaces were a threat to his sanity.

 

This is not how he expected his evening to end when he’d left for Chicago this morning. Fucking Leo. If he hadn’t called Brian in a blind panic over fucking nothing, he would have been here tonight; and then Justin would be currently lying in their bed, happily sated and sleeping, instead of doing God knew what with his minions this evening.

 

At least he managed to wring another million dollars out of the tight-fisted bastard; that, at the very least, had made up for the fool’s errand the man had him running. It was good to have his wife, Lucille, on his side. Her love for Brian and Justin, far outweighed Leo’s need to save a buck and she’d loudly let him know it.

 

Heaving another sigh, Brian pulled out his phone, sent a quick message to his reinforcements, (because no way in hell was he dealing with all three of the little menaces on his own), and then shoved it back into his pocket before walking through the doors. He looked around and took another deep breath – God, he fucking hated this place – and then he strode over to the admissions desk.

 

“Can I help you?” the nurse behind the desk asked.

 

“Yes,” Brian said from between clenched teeth. “I’m looking for my fiancé, Justin Taylor. He was brought in here earlier for…well, I don’t know what for, but I was told that he was at this hospital and needed a pick up.”

 

“Yes, one moment,” the nurse said, looking through her computer. “Yes, he’s still here; he’s in room six. If you’ll go through that door over there, it will be down that hall and the third room on the left.”

 

“Thank you,” Brian said, still just barely holding onto the reins of his temper; it wasn’t her fault that his fiancé was a complete idiot when he, Emmett and Blake got together.

 

Brian strode over to the door, opened it once the lock was released and then stalked down the hall, bracing himself for whatever idiocy he was about to face. Pausing outside the curtained off room, Brian took another deep breath and strained to hear the conversation before he entered, but the three stooges were talking far too low for him to hear anything. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or worried about that.

 

Pulling back the curtain to the room, Brian opened his mouth to ask what the fuck happened and then snapped it quickly shut. He gawked at the sight before him and blinked. And then he blinked again, but the sight remained.

 

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he demanded as he stared at the three of them.

 

All three migraines-in-waiting startled and snapped their heads towards him, their eyes wide with apprehension. As well they should be. He should have been at home celebrating his newest triumph with his fiancé, not picking him up from the fucking emergency room after one of their so-called spa nights.

 

And then Emmett just preened, completely unfazed by Brian’s glower. Not that Brian was all that surprised; the self-proclaimed nelly bottom never put much weight in Brian’s moods, easily calling his bluff most of the time. And really, he had reason to preen given the fact that he still looked as good in his costume, (which he was fairly certain was one that Lana Turner had worn in The Postman Always Rings Twice), as he did when he first made it about ten years ago.

 

Blake flushed and shifted uncomfortably, picking at his Captain Astro costume as if trying to make it less form-fitting. And why the hell Blake was wearing Mikey’s costume, he wasn’t sure; and really he didn’t know if he wanted the answer as he was certain it would just irritate him further.

 

And Justin was sitting on the exam table, in tan chinos and a bright blue button-down, which was open and parted so that it framed a gauze pad taped over his lower abdomen. Brian arched a brow at the bandage, but the twat just grinned at him and refrained from answering the unasked question.

 

He too was wearing what Brian assumed was a costume based on the other two idiots in the room; or at least part of the costume as the rest was folded next to him on the bed. And between the burgundy spot coat lying there (which had to be Emmett’s as he would have burned it if he’d found that travesty in their closet), the obnoxiously bright, royal-blue shirt and the overly large, red and yellow tie (made of construction paper no less), it was one he immediately recognized.

 

As he should given the numerous times he had to watch that fucking movie with his fiancé; it had gotten to the point where Brian had trashed the damned tape in order to preserve his sanity. Not that it had worked as Justin had just gone out and bought the damned DVD as soon as one was available. And no matter how many times Brian ‘misplaced’ it; the DVD seemed to reappear just in time to haunt him on movie night.

 

But he digressed.

 

“Do I even want to know?” Brian asked, arching a single brow when Emmett and Blake shifted uneasily and Justin rolled his lips under in a classic, ‘I’m not saying anything’ look.

 

“Uh…” Justin hedged. “Probably not?”

 

“But you’re going to tell me anyways.” Brian said. It was a statement, not a question; and one his fiancé better be prepared to answer right the fuck now since it meant dragging his ass out of bed at four in the fucking morning.

 

“I don’t have to?” Justin said hopefully, his words lilting into a question by the end.

 

“Justin.” Brian stated implacably; it was just one simple word, or name in this case, but it spoke volumes to his fiancé. Evidenced by the way Justin wrinkled his nose and screwed up his face; he knew he was in deep shit when Brian used his name and not his more commonly used nickname.

 

“Well, it all started with spa night at Emmett’s…” Justin began hesitantly.

 

“It always does...” Brian interrupted; he crossed his arms over his chest and shot Emmett a baleful look as he’d known the Queen was responsible some how. Emmett just shrugged and studied his nails. Well, they’d see about that when Drew got here.

 

“And there might have been a few bottles of champagne…” Justin continued.

 

“As there always is,” Brian huffed, rolling his eyes. He had a bad feeling about this.

 

“And then we got this brilliant idea…” Justin informed him, twiddling his fingers in his lap while he shot his best ‘I’m sweet and innocent’ grin at Brian. A look that hadn’t worked on Brian for many, many years; but Justin couldn’t resist using it on occasion.

 

“Oh, I can’t wait for this…” Brian deadpanned as he leaned back against the wall and waited for his fiancé to regale him with his and the moron squad’s latest bout of mischief. Had he mentioned that he had a bad feeling about this?

 

 

“So, what are the plans for tonight?” Blake asked as he sipped his sparkling apple cider. He was lounging on Emmett’s chaise lounge, while the other man was busy painting his toenails an obnoxious neon green color.

A color that Justin wouldn’t be caught dead in simply because Brian would mock him endlessly for it; and Justin so didn’t want to deal with that. It was bad enough that Brian teased him for the muted colors that Emmett did use to paint his toenails. Like hell was he going to listen to Brian bitch about allowing Emmett to infect him with his poor fashion and color choices. It wasn’t worth the headache.

“No idea,” Justin shrugged and took another sip of champagne.

 He was still feeling slightly guilty about drinking it in front of Blake. But when they’d offered to drink the sparkling cider in support of Blake’s sobriety, he’d waved them off and told them to enjoy themselves. It wasn’t going to bother him in the least and well – no one gets between Emmett and his bubbles. Or so Blake said.

“Brian isn’t going to be home before midnight tonight due to a late flight in,” he continued, scrunching his nose in distaste. “And he absolutely refused to let me meet him at the airport because, and I quote, ‘I have a dick, not a twat and don’t need my fiancé running towards me in some lesbionic movie montage to kiss me hello.’ End quote. Asshole.”

“But, of course, he will be expecting you to be waiting at home for his welcome home fuck,” Blake replied with a dry smile; smirking when Justin rolled his eyes and Emmett giggled.

“Of course,” Justin huffed; he downed the rest of his glass and poured himself another and then downed that too. “But he’ll just have to wait; I told him I had plans tonight and if I could work it into my schedule, he might get a quick fuck in before I fall asleep.”

“Ohhhh…” Emmett sing-songed, shaking a finger in Justin’s direction. “Your ass is going to be in so much trouble for that one, Baby.”

“I know,” Justin grinned; and then squirmed in the most pleasant of ways, knowing just how his fiance would take his defection out on his ass. And he was very much looking forward to it.

“Literally!” They all said together, laughing while they clinked their glasses together.

“Oh, the trials and tribulations of being Brian ‘Fucking’ Kinney’s fiance…” Emmett lamented, pressing his hand dramatically to his chest.

“Well, someone had to do it,” Justin smirked, toasting them both with his flute.

“And you do it so well,” Emmett said sotto voce, and then snickered and dodged when Justin struck out with his foot.

Silence fell between them as Emmett went back to painting Blake’s toenails, this time using a tiny paint brush to make tiny neon yellow and orange flowers. And how Blake managed to look at them without being blinded, Justin didn’t know. But he really had to give him brownie points for putting up with Emmett’s eccentricities.

“I don’t care what we do,” Blake said after a few minutes of silence. “Ted is at home working since his slave-driver of a boss called him at five this evening and demanded the new numbers for that account that he landed yesterday by tomorrow morning.”

“Sorry…” Justin sighed and grimaced, knowing Brian would be breathing down the poor man’s neck for the rest of the night.

“Eh…whatever,” Blake shrugged. “As Brian always says…”

“Sorry is bullshit!” They all grinned and sing-songed the words together.

“Besides, I needed a break anyway,” Blake said; and then he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been a bitch of a week at the clinic.”

Justin and Emmett grunted their commiseration; it had just been one of those weeks for all of them.

Justin had been dealing with this idiot assistant-manager at the gallery he was showing at in three weeks; he’d felt like hitting his head repeatedly against his desk when he’d had to explain to man for the fifteenth time just which way his painting, Hedonism, was hung. He would have thought the fact that he signed all of his paintings in the right bottom corner was a huge clue, but apparently this guy had the brain of an amoeba. 

He'd had finally gotten so sick of dealing with the asshole, that he'd turned the whole thing over to Brian. It was amazing how fast he got it then.

And then Emmett…well it was best not to mention his latest run in with his current Bridezilla as there wasn’t enough champagne in the world to dull that particular headache. But let’s just say it involved fluorescent orange and neon green bridesmaids’ dresses, rubber jellyfish floating in water centerpieces (to reflect how they met when she was stung by one), and a menu more at home at a carnival than a wedding.

(“Seriously; she wants me to add deep-fried American cheese sticks to the menu, Justin! American cheese! And not even the good stuff; but, you know, like that processed stuff you get at a carnival or on a boardwalk somewhere!  I could have handled it if we were going to do a fancy, dressed up version with an artisan cheese; but American cheese!!! I just can’t…”)

Hence why they were here now, drowning their sorrows and headaches with copious amounts of chilled pink champagne; and what lovely champagne it was.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Emmett shouted, startling both Justin and Blake. He bounced in his seat and clapped his hands. “I know! We should go out tonight!”

“And this would be different from every other night, how?” Justin asked dryly.

“You didn’t let me finish, Baby!” Emmett huffed, waving off Justin’s commentary with a negligent wave of his hand, even as he went back to Blake’s neon nightmare.

“My apologies,” Justin tipped his re-filled flute in his friend’s direction. What number was this again? Five? Six? Fuck if he could remember; and really, did it matter at this point? “Pray continue with your great vision, Oh Fantabulous One.”

“Why, thank you, Baby,” Emmett preened; and then he leaned forward with a wide grin. “So, as I was saying; we should go out tonight! Except, instead of wearing our boring, every day club gear, we should dress as our favorite character from our favorite movie! I have the perfect wig for your costume, Baby!”

 

 

Brian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the need to interrupt his fiancé’s narrative to make one very valid point. “How many times have I told you to ignore Emmett’s champagne-drenched ramblings? It always leads to no good.”

 

“Hey!” Emmett squawked. “I resemble that remark!”

 

Brian sent a baleful glare in the other man’s direction, just daring him to say anymore; but thankfully the Queen, very well-versed with the infamous Kinney Glare, snapped his mouth shut and just started humming quietly to himself. Rolling his eyes, Brian turned back to Justin and looked him over once more, and then prayed for strength.

 

He had a feeling he was going to need it.

 

“So, I get your costume,” Brian said, pointing at his fiancé; and then he pointed in Emmett’s direction. “And even Emmett’s costume…” And then he paused and stared at Blake completely perplexed by the sight in front of him. “But why the hell is Blake wearing Mikey’s Captain Astro costume?”

 

“Ummm…” Justin hummed, his eyes darting to look everywhere but at Brian. Brian just sighed internally and braced himself for whatever was to come. God, help him; remind him once again just why he fell in love with this twat? Justin licked his lips nervously and asked. “How did you know that it was Michael’s costume?”

 

“Are you seriously asking me that question?” Brian asked, staring at his fiancé incredulously. How was that even a question?

 

“You’re right,” Justin huffed. “My bad. Who else would have an adult-sized Captain Astro costume in pristine condition and wear it non-ironically.”

 

“So?” Brian prompted undeterred; Justin wasn’t going to squirm out of this explanation. No matter how hard he tried to wiggle his way out of it.

 

“Well, my costume was, as you pointed out, easy,” Justin explained; Brian didn’t miss the way he was still avoiding the question, but decided to wait him out nonetheless. “Everyone knows my favorite movie and I had all the items except for the tie; and I easily made that. And Emmett already had his costume made.”

 

“Yes, yes, get on with it,” Brian demanded impatiently. “The Captain Astro costume?”

 

“Well, while Em and I were talking about our costumes, Blake got real quiet,” Justin hedged and then quailed when Brian heaved a heavy, annoyed sigh; he hurried on with his explanation. “And then we realized we had a slight problem…”

 

“There always is…” Brian commented dryly. He was not at all certain that he wanted to know more at this point; it would likely only lead to more annoyance.

 

 

“Uh, guys…” Blake hesitantly inserted into their excited chatter.

“Oh! Sorry, Blake,” Justin exclaimed, embarrassed that he and Emmett had been ignoring their friend totally while they excitedly made plans for their costumes and tried to figure out how to get the final missing pieces.

“So, what or who are you going as, sweetie?” Emmett asked as he headed over to his closet to pull out the burgundy dinner jacket that he’d been telling Justin about.

“Well, that’s kind of the thing,” Blake admitted with a sheepish grin. “I don’t really have a favorite movie; so, I don’t know?”

Justin paused in crafting his tie and sent Blake an odd look; how can you not have a favorite movie? And then he shrugged. Well, he did know that Blake didn’t watch much TV and he wasn’t a big fan of going out to the movies, so he supposed it would be difficult to choose a favorite when you don’t really watch them.

“Well, is there a particular cartoon or movie or even book character that you like?” he asked, throwing out a few other suggestions for consideration.

“Not really?” Blake shrugged a bit helplessly. “Nothing that really stands out in my mind.”

At that point Emmett halted in his search to look at Blake a bit oddly; Blake blushed and squirmed, but just jutted his chin out in a defiant angle. Justin shrugged again. While he’d never had a problem with such things, he did know that Brian was another who would have problems with finding a costume. Not that he’d wear one in the first place.

Unless it was Rage; he might be able to get Brian in a Rage costume. And wow, didn’t that lead to some very deliciously, naughty thoughts. He’d have to file that idea away for later consideration. But for now, he needed to focus on the current conversation before his interest in seeing Brian dressed in tights made itself obviously known.

“Well, do you have any old costumes that you can use?” Emmett asked, as he pulled out a black wig and the dinner jacket for Justin.

“No,” Blake said, again with a sheepish smile. “I usually donate them to the clinic after I use them every year. We all do that so that those less fortunate can come during Halloween or whenever to purchase them at a minimal price.”

“That is so awesome!” Justin said. “I should look into that; normally I just donate it with my regular clothing to Goodwill or the like.”

“Yeah, but that does leave a problem, Baby,” Emmett huffed, bringing them back to the matter at hand. “Just where are we going to get him a costume? Nothing I have would fit him and Britin is too far away to grab one of yours.”

“Uh…not that I’d want any of Justin’s to begin with…” Blake teased, ducking when Justin threw a pillow at him. “I really don’t want to be wearing his or Brian’s fetish wear.”

“I’ll have you know that I have more than that, thank you very much,” Justin huffed. “I am not a complete deviant.”

“Sure you aren’t…” Blake taunted, laughing when Justin flipped him the bird.

“Well, any ideas?” Emmett asked impatiently, obviously wanting to get on with it; Justin cast him an apologetic look and hummed.

“No…actually, wait…” Justin jumped out of his chair and slowly circled Blake, who was still lounging on the chaise. He eyed him thoughtfully and then grinned. “Would you say that you’re about the same size as Michael?”

“Yes…” Blake trailed off hesitantly, a little unnerved by the glint in Justin’s eye.

Emmett stared at Justin in complete confusion, obviously trying to figure out where he was going with this line of inquiry. Justin arched a brow and drew a symbol on his chest. Emmett cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, and then his eyes widened and his mouth rounded in an ‘O’ as understanding dawned.

“Oh, that’s perfect, Baby!” Emmett cooed, clapping his hands excitedly. “He’d fit in it perfectly! And then we could go to Michael’s house and prank him; he’d be so out of it from sleeping he wouldn’t know what hit him…”

“What on Earth are you two talking about?” Blake huffed with exasperation.

“Why Mikey’s Captain Astro costume,” Justin said with an all knowing smirk. “The one he wears every fucking year to Babylon’s Fright Night Ball.”

“Ugh,” Blake grunted in thinly veiled disgust. “Must I? Can’t I just…I don’t know…put on some jeans, a white T-shirt, a black leather jacket and slick my hair back and go as Danny Zucko or something?”

“Uh…no offense, sweetie,” Emmett said, patting him consolingly on the arm. “But you don’t really have the presence to pull off Danny. Putzie maybe, but not Danny.”

“Fuck you very much,” Blake said, flipping Emmett off for good measure.

“No thanks, sweetie,” Emmett smirked, sashaying his way back to his closet to get his own costume. “I get plenty of that from my Drewsie.”

“Oh, come on,” Justin cajoled. “It will be funny. Can you imagine how Michael would shit his pants when he saw you in his costume?”

“But…” Blake sighed and trailed off, utterly resigned to his fate as Justin and Emmett fixed him with their puppy dog eyes. “Fine; but anyone asks, I want it noted that I’m doing this under protest.”

“No you’re not,” Emmett pish-poshed, waving his hand negligently in Blake’s direction. “You think that it’s as funny as we do.”

 

 

“This was your ‘brilliant’ idea?” Brian demanded, staring at his fiancé as if he had grown an additional head; and not the fun kind.

 

“It seemed funny at the time,” Justin shrugged nonchalantly. The little twat couldn’t even be bothered to look ashamed at his less than stellar idea.

 

“Six bottles in, I’m sure anything seemed funny at the time,” Brian huffed and rubbed his hand over his face. Why had he wanted an explanation again?

 

Which is when his fiancé showed the depth of his maturity and stuck his tongue out at him; Brian merely arched his brow and dared the little twat to disagree with him. Justin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest in response. And just why Justin had a bandage on his belly was a mystery to him; but he was certain he’d eventually find out.

 

“So, correct me if I’m wrong,” Brian drawled. “But wouldn’t you first have to go to Mikey’s to get the costume, thus waking him up?”

 

“Nope,” Justin said, a smug grin on his face as he popped the ‘P’ at the end. “It seems that Jenny took a liking to it recently and kept trying to wear it; and you know how Michael is about that damned costume.”

 

“Unfortunately, we all have been witness to that…” Emmett muttered under his breath.

 

And yes; yes they had been witness to that travesty. He’d never forget the day when some trick knocked into Mikey while he was wearing it and Mikey snagged his sleeve on the catwalk railing. He thought the world was going to end then and there with the epic level meltdown and tantrum that Mikey threw. He was absurdly proud of, and possessive over, those God awful, butt-ugly scraps of spandex.

 

“So, he’s taken to storing it at Deb’s house,” Justin finished with a flourish. Brian narrowed his eyes; that still didn’t explain how the twat had gotten the costume. Whether it was at Mikey’s or Deb’s, it was still out of reach.

 

“Of course, he has,” Brian said, deciding to humor his brat for the moment; and then he arched a brow as he pointed out the flaw in his explanation. “But again, how did you manage to get it; since I know that Deb goes to bed early on Friday nights as she has the early-morning shift on Saturdays.”

 

“Uh…” Justin hedged, looking sideways at his two minions. “Well, about that….”

 

Oh, this should be good.

 

 

“Shhhh…” Emmett shushed them; and then completely contrary to it, let out a loud giggle as he stumbled into Blake’s back.

“You shhhhh….” Blake shushed him back, and then he too started giggling; likely because Emmett was still snorting and giggling to himself.

“No, you shhhhh….” Emmett argued, completely failing to recognize the fact that he was making more noise than Justin and Blake together with the way he was laughing and snorting and trampling through the bushes like a drunken orangutan.

“I’m not the one that sounds like a herd of buffalo stampeding through the bushes,” Blake countered with no little amount of exasperation. “Honestly…”

“Will you both shut up!?” Justin huffed; then he rolled his eyes and continued to make his way through Deb’s backyard. “I swear, I should have left you in the car and done this myself. With the number of times that Brian has snuck in, and that I have snuck in and out, while I was living here; I have it down to an art.”

“You do realize that Deb was aware of what the two of you were doing, right?” Blake felt the need to point out as if Justin wasn’t fully aware of the fact.

“Of course.” Justin shook his head his friend’s statement of the obvious. “Deb is many things, but stupid is not one of them. But as long as I didn’t wake her, she was happy to turn a blind eye to what we were doing. Now either be quiet or go back to the car.”

Blake held up his hands in a placating gesture, while Emmett continued to snort and giggle. Something that came to a quick halt when Justin spun back around, glared at him and mimed zipping his lips. Emmett nodded and reciprocated the motion, making Justin roll his eyes and continue through the backyard. 

“This way,” Justin whispered, heading for a very familiar tree. “If we climb this tree right here, it will take us to Mikey’s old bedroom; Deb never locks that window out of habit.”

“Never?” Blake asked incredulously.

“Brian used to sneak in from his parents house several times a week,” Justin shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal of it; he knew his fiance would not appreciate them mulling over why Brian would need to escape to his best friend’s house in the middle of the night. “She always left it open so that he had a safe place to go and wasn’t just roaming the streets at night. Now it’s just a bad habit.”

“Ah,” Blake said, quickly dropping the touchy subject; much to Justin’s relief.

They quieted down after that as Justin jumped up and grabbed the lowest branch, and swung himself up into the tree as he’d done numerous times before. He quickly climbed the tree, heading directly for the window as first Blake and then Emmett joined him. He slowly slid the window open and then carefully climbed through it, holding his breath until he landed safely in the room.

Brushing off his hands, he turned and watched his friends until they were both safely in the room as well; and then he spun around in a slow circle to take it in. Thankfully, Deb had long since changed it from Michael’s room into a sewing nook and office for her and Carl. Justin didn’t know how he would deal with the shrine to Michael’s childhood.

“Thank God they got rid of that wallpaper,” Emmett whispered, looking at the light yellow walls. “I have no idea what Michael was thinking.”

“Seriously,” Justin shuddered. “That stuff used to give me nightmares when I stayed here. You don’t know how many times I was tempted to paint over it.” He paused and gave the others an evil grin. “Mostly just to see Michael queen out when he came up and saw it.”

“I would have,” Blake snorted and then shrugged, not really understanding the big deal.

Justin snorted himself at the reaction; Blake had never been privy to the horror that was Michael’s room as Justin and Emmett had been having lived there. But he should’ve heard enough about it to realize that he was the lucky one.

“Okay; so, my best guess is that Michael is storing it here with all the other shit he used to store here,” Justin said, pointing at the closet. “And likely still does unless Deb finally got pissed and dumped it. Honestly, why he kept some of this shit, I have no idea.”

“Mementos,” Emmett said absently; and then he shrugged when Justin and Blake looked at him. “I once had the misfortune of having to sit here while he took a walk down memory lane one day; he’d actually had all this shit in his apartment and then moved it here when I moved in. And since he was giving me a place to live, I felt like I should at least pretend to listen. You’d be amazed at how many of those stories started, “And this is when Brian and I….”

“No I wouldn’t,” Justin snorted, having been privy to Michael’s Brian obsession for years. “I recall the Brian and Mikey Show all too well when he and I first started dating; or whatever the fuck it was that we were doing. It doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

Emmett and Blake both nodded in sympathy; they were all too aware of how many times Justin had wanted to drop kick Michael into traffic in order to put them all out of their misery. Thankfully, Brian was less patient with Michael’s bullshit these days and less likely to put up with Michael’s temper tantrums.

“Now,” Justin murmured, opening the closet. “It should be…yup, predictable as always; here we go.” He pulled out the costume, which was in a suit protector, and shook his head. Michael would leave his one good suit to hang unprotected in his closet at home, but God forbid something happen to his Captain Astro costume. “I wouldn’t even be surprised if he has a backup or two in here.”

“Of course, he does, Baby,” Emmett snickered, rifling through the closet and pointing out another plastic protected costume. “He wouldn’t want to go with out should one of them be damaged in any way.”

“Let’s go,” Justin smirked, walking towards the window, costume in hand. “I’ll climb down first; and then you can drop the costume down to me and climb down yourselves. And whoever comes out last, don’t forget to close the window.”

“I’ll do that,” Blake volunteered; likely because he was afraid that Emmett was too blitzed on champagne to remember to close it.

Justin handed the costume off to Blake and then quickly climbed down; he stood under the window and held out his hands, deftly catching the costume as Blake dropped it. Then he leaned against the house to wait for Emmett and Blake, who quickly do the same. As his friends reached him, Justin placed a finger over his lips and pointed towards the gate. They nodded and quietly snuck back through the backyard toward the gate and then sucked in a surprised breath at the sight greeting them.

Swallowing thickly, Justin squirmed and stared at a very amused, yet exasperated Carl, who was leaning against the fence with arms crossed. He just stared at the three of them, seeming completely and utterly perplexed by Justin and Emmett’s costumes; and then he looked at Blake and the costume in Justin’s hand and raised his brows. Justin opened his mouth to explain, but Carl just shook his head and held up a hand.

"I don't want to know,” he said, and then shook his head again as he headed for the kitchen door where he paused and sent a stern look over his shoulder. “Just, next time; call before you raid Michael's closet. And for God’s sakes; use the front door."

 

 

“He should have just hauled your asses in to teach you all a much needed lesson,” Brian huffed, shaking his head at his fiancé.

 

“It will never happen;” Justin stated confidently. “Deb loves me too much.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes, but couldn’t refute the twat’s claim. He knew very well how much Deb loved her little Sunshine and woe the day that any man tried to harm one hair on his pretty blond head. He really didn’t want to be the person standing between them.

 

“I’m almost afraid to ask what happened next,” Brian muttered; but rather than take the usual out, Justin quite cheerfully continued his tale for once; which made him all the more suspicious of the brat’s shenanigans that night.

 

He was acting far too gleeful for Brian’s comfort.

 

“Well…” Justin drawled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “After Carl chewed us out; we went back to Em’s for libations and to allow Blake the opportunity to change…”

 

“Christ,” Brian muttered, staring at Justin and a miraculously standing Emmett. “It’s a wonder that you two are conscious.”

 

“Practice,” Justin said, waving off his concern with a dismissive flick of his hand. “So, after some much needed refreshments, and Blake changing, we decided that now would be a great opportunity to get back at Michael for that thing that he did that I refuse to acknowledge to this day…”

 

“You really need to get over that,” Brian huffed. “It’s been two fucking years.”

 

“Never,” Justin hissed, his eyes flashing indignantly. “He deserves all the misery I can rain down on him for that; I was scarred for life.”

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Brian tried to say, but wisely shut up when Justin glared at him in utter disbelief; he really did not want to debate this with his fiancé once more.

 

“SCARRED! FOR! LIFE!” Justin hissed again; and then he crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Brian, daring him to argue.

 

“Fucking drama princess…” Brian muttered under his breath, knowing full well that said drama princess could hear him.

 

“I heard that!” Justin exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.

 

“You were meant to,” Brian huffed while the other two morons tried to make themselves inconspicuous; but Brian really was not going to be dragged into this conversation yet again. It was bad enough the first time around. “So?”

 

Justin glared at him for a full minute longer, but Brian just stared him down until he finally caved and continued with the tale.

 

“So, after we left Em’s, we went to Michael’s,” Justin said, and then added with a proud smile. “Luckily, I still have his key, so no breaking and entering necessary…”

 

“Well, that’s a relief…” Brian grumbled sarcastically.

 

 

 

The boys stealthily made their way up the walkway of Ben and Michael’s house with Justin in the lead. Well, as stealthily as three grown men in costumes could; especially with one dressed in spandex and a cape and the other was in short-shorts, a midriff top and wedges. Which is to say, not stealthily at all; and based on the looks they got from a couple of Michael’s neighbors, it was a damned good thing it was too dark for anyone to identify them, otherwise Justin would never hear the end of this from Brian.

Justin slid the key into the lock, opened the door and then stepped through, allowing his minions…he meant friends to follow in his wake. He closed the door after they entered, and then had a hasty conversation made mostly of gestures and facial expressions before Justin and Emmett both huffed, threw their hands up in the air and dragged a suddenly reluctant Blake up the stairs with them.

As they reached the landing, Justin once more placed his finger against his lips and took the lead, startling when a door suddenly opened in front of them. Freezing mid-step, they held their breath and stared at the door with apprehension until Hunter poked his head out of his room. Fuck! Justin had forgotten that Hunter was visiting this weekend.

Hunter just stared at them incredulously, his eyes widening as they slid over their costumes; and then he snorted, rolled his eyes and then quickly closed the bedroom door without saying a single word. The three of them looked at each other, exhaled a breath of relief and shared a hysterical giggle before finally getting themselves under control and heading down the hall to Michael and Ben’s room.

They paused outside the bedroom door, and had yet another conversation made out of gestures and facial expressions before Blake huffed and slowly opened the door, wincing when it creaked as it opened. He silently made his way in by the light of the reading lamp by the bed and headed for the bed to wake Michael up; only to be halted when he stumbled over some sneakers in the middle of the floor and crashed into an open chest at the foot of the bed.

Justin and Emmett winced, and watched through a slit in the door as Michael spluttered and flailed, shooting straight up in bed, with comics flying up into the air and hitting the floor around him. He snapped his head back and forth, rubbing at his eyes in the low light as he searched for whatever woke him up; and then, when he spied a bent over, virulently cursing Blake rubbing his shin, he squeaked and hugged the headboard

“Wh – who is it?” Michael called out, staring at the hunched over figure in front of him with wide eyes. “Who’s there? Show yourself or…or I’ll call the cops!”

Blake hissed, sent a glare over his shoulder towards a silently laughing Justin and Emmett and then he stood up straight to face a cowering Michael.

“No need to panic, my friend,” Blake said, reaching out one hand to placate the other man. Justin wheezed and leaned against a silently shaking Emmett, nearly crying with laughter at the expression on Michael’s face. “I mean you no harm! I just wanted to meet my number one fan…and to ask a favor.”

“Captain…” Michael asked hesitantly, his eyes wide as saucers as he stared at Blake’s costume. “Captain Astro…is…is that you?”

“Yes, indeed it is, my friend,” Blake intoned, splaying his legs and firmly placing his fists on his hips in a comically superhero pose, sending Justin into even more helpless laughter. “Who else would it be in this suit? I just popped in from Asteroid Beta 7 to meet you, as I said; and I am in desperate need of your help.”

“But…” Michael trailed off, his brow pinched with confusion; as if he was trying to remember something. “But, you’re dead; they killed you off…”

“Ah, but your belief in me has restored me and brought me back to life,” Blake informed the other man, sealing it with a broad, cheesy smile. And Justin just couldn’t…he couldn’t breathe because he was laughing that hard. “And I wanted to thank my number one fan for never giving up on me and believing that I will one day rise from the ashes to save the day once more.”

“Did you really?” Michael asked; staring at his idol in wonder.

And that’s when Justin had to take a few deep breaths and reassess the situation. He had expected some minor confusion on Michael’s part when he first woke up; but, he had also expected him to call them a bunch of assholes and chase them out of the house once he became more alert. And that hadn’t happened yet.

He exchanged a confused glance with Emmett, and then they both peeked through the slit in the door to see if they could figure out what was going on. And that’s when Justin noticed it – the dilated eyes and the spaced out look on Michael’s face. Fuck! He must have been tripping on something hard for him to be that out of it. He exchanged another look with Emmett; one that asked, ‘should we stop?’ And then they snickered.

‘Nah! This was gold!’

It seemed that Blake had also picked up on Michael’s altered state, as he looked over at the door, but when Emmett and Justin failed to appear, he gamely continued on.

“Uh, yeah,” Blake said, his tone less certain than before. “Sure.”

“But where is Galaxy Lad?” Michael asked, looking around the room in confusion.

“Uh, well…” Blake trailed off as if looking for an acceptable response; and then he rallied in spectacular fashion, making both Justin and Emmett silently giggle. “I left him behind as trying to transport two people through the dimensional rift would have been too difficult; so, I thought that I would deputize you, my dearest fan and friend, and make you my sidekick for the night.”

“You did!?” Michael asked excitedly, pushing the blankets away as he bounced out of bed.

“Yeah,” Blake nodded authoritatively. “Sure. Why not?”

Justin and Emmett clutched onto one another and sniggered as they continued to listen to and watch the drama playing out in front of them. He had to give Blake major props; he had barely even hesitated before naturally slipping into his role. Although, maybe they should call this off. It really wasn’t fair to fuck with Michael when he was like this.

“Oh, but…” Michael trailed off thoughtfully. “I don’t have my costume; and it’s too late to go to my mother’s to get it.” He paused, slowly looked Blake over with some disappointment and then said. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to show you up.”

Justin huffed and looked at Emmett, who rolled his eyes at Michael’s unwarranted sense of ego. Seriously? Did he seriously just say that? He couldn’t believe that he was actually considering going easy on Michael just seconds before; and then he bigged himself up. Fuck that! He didn’t feel bad for the little shit at all.

“You’re a lot smaller than I thought you’d be,” Michael huffed, giving Blake a critical once over. Justin rolled his eyes; like Michael had any room to talk.

“And that is why I need your help,” Blake said, his voice hardening as he bristled under Michael’s critical gaze; oh, Michael done fucked that up. Blake was his only chance of mercy and he killed that with nine little words. He smiled a not entirely pleasant smile and continued. “Morphisto has been up to his usual nefarious shenanigans and hit me with a shrinking ray. I need your help tracking him down in your world, so that I may confiscate the ray gun, reverse engineer it and set myself back to rights.”

“You mean he jumped dimensions too?” Michael asked, forgetting all about Blake’s appearance as he was sucked back in by his words.

“Yeah,” Blake nodded, he cocked his finger into a pretend gun. “That’s it.” He paused and looked Michael up and down. “And as for your costume; not to worry! We will find appropriate gear for you at one of your local Mega Marts.”

“Mega Mart?” Michael asked, his brow pinched in confusion.

“Yeah,” Blake nodded. “You know, one of those big, discount department stores?”

“Oh!” Michael exclaimed and then nodded his understanding. “Those are called the Big Q here. We have one not to far away from here!”

“Awesome!” Blake clapped his hands together once; and then he walked over to the chest. “But first let me close this.” He closed the lid gently as Michael watched him in confusion; Blake shrugged and explained. “We wouldn’t want anyone to mess with the dimensional rift; you know how dangerous that can be.” Michael’s eyes brightened and he nodded vigorously. “Now then, we’re off to Big Q to find you an appropriate disguise and then off to track down Morphisto.”

Justin and Emmett snickered and then quickly scurried away from the door as Blake turned on his heel and headed for it. They hid in the shadows as Blake sailed through the door, not looking at them once, and Michael pranced behind him, only stopping long enough to slide on a pair of slippers and throw on a sweatshirt over his tank top. And the two of them strode noisily down the hall and sailed out the front door.

They waited for about thirty seconds, Emmett taking that time to send a message to his and Drew’s driver, and then they quietly made their way down the hall towards the stairs. They paused as they reached Hunter’s door and he once again popped his head out.

“Just so you know,” he huffed, glaring at the two of them. “I’m not bailing your guys’ asses out tonight no matter how much you beg. I have a date tomorrow morning and I refuse to be late to it because you guys are acting like idiots.”

And then he pulled his head back in, closed the door and went back to bed. Justin and Emmett looked at each other, snickered and shrugged. That was perfectly fine with them. They hurried down the stairs and out the door just in time to see Blake’s car heading down the street towards the Big Q.

 

 

Brian silently stared at his fiancé for a long moment, uncertain whether he should be proud of the elaborate, albeit unintentional, prank; or if he should tan the little shit’s hide for causing the growing headache building behind his eyes. Perhaps both.

 

“Honestly, we didn’t think he’d take us seriously,” Justin groused waving his hands around in exasperation; Brian just cocked a brow, because did his fiancé really expect him to believe that load of shit? “I mean, who in their right mind would actually believe that their favorite comic hero came to life and jumped out of their comic book just to meet their number one fan?”

 

“No one ever said that Michael was in his right mind, honey,” Emmett drawled as he scrolled through his phone, looking as serene and unperturbed as ever.

 

“I would have thought that he would have noticed that Blake looks nothing like Captain Astro,” Justin huffed indignantly and then sent an apologetic look Blake’s way. “No offence intended.”

 

“None taken,” Blake waved off the apology with a smile.

 

“How was I to know that he had been drinking and had a couple of hits of Anita’s special mix this evening?” Justin asked huffily.

 

Brian’s brows rose at that admission and he couldn’t help but wonder at the anomaly himself; and how Justin knew given he supposedly wasn’t going to Babylon tonight. But he supposed that was yet another mystery for later.

 

“He rarely goes to Babylon anymore!” Justin continued his rant unheeded and Brian just let him go because he always derived far more useful information when he did. “And never without Ben! I figured that with Ben gone at that conference, he’d spend the night at home doing whatever boring, Stepfagville shit he always does.”

 

That explained a lot.

 

Brian rubbed his hand tiredly over his face and wondered once more what Gods or Fates or whatever controlling interest you wanted to believe in made him fall in love with what had to be the most aggravating man on Earth. Because he wanted to file a complaint.

 

After he reminded the little twat why listening to Emmett was a bad idea.

 

“And just where is Mikey now?” Brian asked as patiently as possible; which, granted, wasn’t much, but he had mentioned his developing migraine hadn’t he?

 

“Um….” Justin faltered and cast a panicked look at his cohorts in crime and Brian couldn’t help another internal groan. “Well, that’s kind of a long story…”

 

“Justin.” Brian stared at him implacably.

 

“Well…” Justin hedged again; and Brian could practically see the hamsters scurrying in his brain as he tried to decide how much he should reveal. “You see…”

 

“Justin.” Brian stated again; this time lot more firmly. “I swear to fucking God, if you don’t stop stalling, I’m going to call Daphne and she can deal with you!”

 

“That’s not fair,” Justin pouted; which usually worked on Brian, but not this time.

 

“Ask me if I care?” Brian asked pointedly.

 

“Fine,” Justin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest once again. “So, after Blake took off with Michael to Big Q, Emmett and I stealthily…”

 

“Stealthy?” Brian snorted in disbelief. “You and that Queen!?”

 

“It’s Michael.” Justin pointedly said, defying Brian to disagree; which he couldn’t.

 

“Point.” Brian conceded. “You were saying?”

 

“So after Blake took off with Michael…”

 

 

Justin and Emmett sat in the back of the black Lincoln Continental that Emmett apparently had at his beck and call, with Drew’s driver Charles in the front silently waiting for further instructions, staring at the Big Q. As they had been for the last five minutes; and Justin had to admit that he was getting a little antsy. Although, he was just glad that they had managed to catch up to Blake so quickly.

When he had watched Blake pull away with their only mode of transportation, Justin had silently cursed their luck, even knowing that Emmett had arranged for another ride. He was certain, that despite the liberal dropping of clues as to where Blake and Michael were headed, that they would miss them and then where would they be?

After all, he reasoned that it would likely take Charles a while to get ready and that they’d be standing in front of Michael’s house for twenty to thirty minutes at least. If they were even still there and hadn’t been arrested for loitering because Michael’s neighbors were assholes. So, when Charles pulled up in less than ten minutes, Justin was surprised to say the very least. But thankful; oh so very thankful.

“So how should we do this?” Justin finally asked, prodding at a suspiciously quiet Emmett. “Should we just wait here for them; or go in?”

“Oh, we are so going in,” Emmett smirked, putting away the phone he had been tapping on for the last five minutes. “No way am I missing this.”

Justin’s eyebrows shot into his hairline at that comment, but he refrained from asking what brought it on as he was far too annoyed with Michael to care. However, as much fun as it would be to go in and watch Blake utterly fuck with Mikey, he did have to bring up one very valid and concerning flaw in that plan.

“But what if Michael sees us?” Justin asked, arching a single brow.

“Please, Baby,” Emmett snorted derisively. “Do you really think he’d notice anything with his hero there in the flesh. A hurricane could blow through and he still would be standing there hanging onto every word that Blake said.”

“Point,” Justin conceded; and then opened the car door and proceeded to get out.

“We’ll be right back Charles,” Emmett said as he too opened the door and got out of the car. “Keep the car running.”

“As you wish, sir,” Charles nodded, and then simply picked up a book to read as he waited.

Justin shook his head as he shut the door and was still amazed that the other man was willing, and seemingly ready, to put up with any of their weird requests or antics. In fact, he hadn’t even startled or looked at them oddly when he’d pulled up in front of Michael’s, despite their odd attire. Then again, given some of the things Emmett wore when he went out clubbing, perhaps Charles had grown immune to such things.  

“How on Earth did you get a driver so fast anyways?” Justin said, finally asking the question that had been niggling the back of his head as they walked into Big Q.

“Drew always has Charles on standby when we have one of our boys nights,” Emmett shrugged, as if it were nothing more than he expected; which he likely did given the way Drew indulged him. “He said that he didn’t want to inflict the world with what I called driving after I’ve had a touch of the bubbly.”

“Uh…Em,” Justin trailed off as Emmett stumbled a little on the perfectly flat mat in front of the door; he wobbled a bit before righting himself and continued on without care. “That was more than a touch of the bubbly.”

“Well, of course,” Emmett said, rolling his eyes at Justin’s statement of the obvious. “I knew that Charles was on standby and so, I indulged.”

“Right,” Justin said a shade doubtfully, but allowed his friend the lie if it made him feel better. Who was he to judge given the way Brian always bitched about his driving?

“Not to mention that Blake was also here to play designated driver,” Emmett continued with an unconcerned shrug.

He did have a point; even if it was a failed point at the moment given the way they hadn’t thought things through and had gotten stranded at Michael’s. And now, he was doubly happy for Drew’s overindulgence of his Queen. As, while they could have called a cab, they wouldn’t have had the freedom to follow Blake without exorbitant cost. Justin opened his mouth to say just that, but then he spotted Blake leaning against a fitting room door and suddenly nothing else was as important.

“Shhh…” Justin hissed to a humming Emmett; he pulled his friend behind some high shelving and pointed towards where Blake was standing and trying not to look utterly bored and uncomfortable. “There they are…”

“What on Earth…” Emmett asked as the door slowly opened.

Justin had to agree as Michael came out and struck a pose, looking far too proud to be wearing what he was wearing. Although, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could be he supposed. Michael was strutting around, talking excitedly to Blake in a black, long-sleeved, knit shirt, black leggings with a red Speedo over them and red converse. He also had on a black cape, a red half-mask and a red watch on his wrist. And honestly, Justin would have been embarrassed to be seen in public in that outfit, but it was Michael, so…

“Well, that’s not nearly as bad as I would have been,” Justin said a bit grudgingly; Blake must have been feeling a little guilty again. “Blake seems to be playing it nice tonight. I would have put Michael in a hot pink girl’s tank top, some black hot pants, fishnets and a pair of fuck me boots; mask optional.”

“Which is why Blake is Captain Astro and not you,” Emmett said dryly

“Plus, he didn’t have a costume,” Justin snorted, knowing full well that his friend would have gleefully allowed Justin his rein if he’d been Captain Astro.

“Plus, he didn’t have a costume,” Emmett agreed, and then giggled; likely at the image that Justin had painted of Michael’s potential costume.

And then he sobered and quieted as Blake nodded firmly and then strode past them towards the checkout lanes, with Michael bopping along after him like a faithful and excitable puppy. Justin just shook his head and wondered for the dozenth time what the hell Michael was on to not have sobered up by now. Because really, he needed some of that shit; he could give it to Brian and perhaps live out that Rage fantasy…

No, bad Justin; bad – just say no to drugs.

The Rage fantasy on the other hand…Justin licked his lips and couldn’t wait to ask Brian if he would indulge in a little role play.

“Are you sure you can afford to get this?” Michael piped up as they all drew closer to the cashiers, dragging a reluctant Justin from his lustful thoughts. “Will your money work here?”

“Not to worry,” Blake waved off his concern while flashing his credit card at Michael, being quick enough that the other man couldn’t get a good look at it. “This card here has the ability to detect what monetary system is in use and convert my currency to the appropriate one in whatever universe I am in.”

“Really?” Michael asked, his eyes wide as he tried to get a better look at the card; but Blake easily fended him off with a stern look.

“Yes,” Blake said in a clipped tone, a single brow raised in admonishment; Michael quailed and shrank away from him. “It’s a very advanced program that’s only available to me and those in my quadrant. You won’t tell anyone will you?”

“No,” Michael nodded enthusiastically, obviously happy to share a secret with his hero. Justin snorted and had to give Blake props for the explanation. “Of course not.”

“Good.” Blake gave a firm nod and quickly paid for the items, while having the cashier stuff Michael’s old clothing into a bag for him. Justin had a feeling he was going to be paying Blake back at a later date, but it was so worth it. “I can’t let our secrets get out like that; but I trust you, as you’re my number one fan.”

Michael preened and then followed in Blake’s wake as they headed back to his car. Justin and Emmett looked at each other and snickered; and then they quickly headed out to a waiting Charles to begin the next part of their adventure.

 

 

“Wait, how the fuck did you explain to Mikey the fact that Captain Astro was driving Blake’s car?” Brian interrupted, wondering how on Earth they pulled that off.

 

“Easy,” Justin shrugged. “When Morphisto hit him with his ray gun; it took away his ability to fly as well, so he appropriated the nearest car.”

 

“And he believed that shit?” Brian asked incredulously.

 

“Anita’s. Special. Mix.” Justin emphasized each word to make his point. “He was barely coherent; trust me, he didn’t notice anything.”

 

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for strength.

 

“So anyway,” Justin continued blithely, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Once we picked up his disguise, that’s when the real fun began.”

 

Brian heaved a heavy sigh and just knew he was going to regret asking.

 

 

“So, where are we going?” Michael practically yelled, as he scurried towards Blake and his car, which was only a row away from where Charles had parked. 

“The only place one can go when they are new in town,” Blake informed him as he hit the automatic locks and opened his car door. “The YMCA.”

Justin looked at Em as they huddled behind a nearby SUV and clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud at Blake’s choice of venue and words. He recalled all too well how much Blake had bitched about the song when Emmett had put it on and danced to it earlier, complaining that it was going to be stuck in his head for the rest of the night and vowing to kill Emmett for it.

Not that Emmett had cared; he’d just grinned and continued to dance and sing along.  

“The YMCA?” Michael asked with a bewildered look on his face.

“Yes,” Blake nodded decisively. “I have it on good authority that Morphisto was headed there as it was ‘the place to go.’ Something about being able ‘to hang out with the boys’ and having everything that men enjoy. It sounds exactly up Morphisto’s alley.”

“Okay,” Michael said, drawing out the vowels; but he obviously didn’t want to question his idol’s conviction. “Well, the nearest YMCA is on Liberty Ave and Tenth Street.”

“Excellent,” Blake said as he waited until Michael got in the car before he followed, his voice ringing out as he shut the door. “You can be my navigator.”

And then Blake started the car and drove away.

Justin stared after the car in disbelief and then doubled over with a loud bark of laughter, with Emmett following in his wake. They clutched onto each other, snorting and laughing, as they stumbled back to their waiting car, barely able to stand, let alone walk under their own speed. But they finally made it back and quickly got in the backseat.

“Oh my God,” Justin wheezed out between laughs. “I can’t believe that Blake actually said all that shit with a straight face.”

“He is good,” Emmett snickered, holding his sides as he tried to catch his breath. “He didn’t break character once. To the YMCA on Liberty and Tenth, Charles.”

“As you will, sir,” Charles nodded; and then he put the car into drive and followed.

It took a humor- and laughter-filled ten minutes to reach their destination, which was also rife with speculation as to what on Earth Blake planned for Michael there. But they finally reached the YMCA just in time to see Michael and Blake run through the doors. Cursing under his breath, Justin quickly exited the car and ran up the stairs with Emmett on his heels, but it was to no avail. Michael and Blake were nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” Justin hissed as he looked around the foyer; but no matter how much he willed it, neither Michael nor Blake appeared. “Well, this sucks; I wanted to see what Blake had planned for Michael next.”

“Me too,” Emmett huffed; he pouted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Now what do we do?” Justin asked, scratching the back of his head as his wig was starting to itch.

“I guess we just wait until they come out,” Emmett suggested with a shrug, waving his hand at the open doorway. “What else can we do?”

“True,” Justin sighed, looking at the foyer one last time before he headed towards the door, shoulders slumped. “Still disappointing though.”

“We’ll torture him for it later,” Emmett commiserated; he flung his arm around Justin’s shoulders as they walked down the stairs and headed over to the waiting sedan. “He should have known to stall a bit until we got here.”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed as he leaned against the car “Hopefully…”

Justin paused and looked up when he heard a familiar shout coming from above; but when nothing else happened after a minute, he shrugged, got comfortable and decided to watch the usual Liberty Ave show. People laughed and chattered as they walked by, barely even giving Justin and Emmett more than a quick once over as they headed down the street. It said a lot about the usual Liberty Ave attire that they barely even stood out amongst the other denizens.

He yawned and was about to suggest that they get back into the car to wait when a familiar voice shouted from above.

“This way!” Blake shouted. “Morphisto just climbed out this window and is climbing up the sign to the roof. We must catch him now or we’ll lose him!”

“Holy shit!” Emmett exclaimed as he and Justin looked, mouths agape as they spied Blake hanging out of a window and gesturing to someone in the room.

“Guess Blake isn’t playing nice tonight,” Justin snorted as he watched Michael enter the frame. “Is he seriously going to get Michael to climb the sign?”

Emmett simply shook his head and shrugged as he watched the drama unfolding before him, his jaw still agape as he saw Michael lean out the window to look up.

“Why don’t you go first,” Blake suggested, an evil little smirk on his face; not that Michael noticed as he was too busy looking for Morphisto. “That way I can brace you if you slip.”

“Guess so,” Emmett commented in an awed tone.

“That’s fucking evil,” Justin squealed gleefully, practically bouncing on his toes as he watched Michael and Blake confer with each other. “I love it.”

“Are you sure about this?” Michael called out to Blake, a thread of nervousness in his voice as he started to climb out the window and onto the ledge. “Wouldn’t be easier to take the elevator and stairs to the roof?”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Justin conceded; although, he was a little surprised that Michael had the presence of mind to ask such a question. Maybe the drugs were wearing off. “Good to know he has somewhat of a self-preservation streak.”

“No, he’ll be expecting that.” Blake shook his head firmly. “Best to go this way; here, let me give you a boost.”

“Oh my God,” Emmett hissed, his voice still rife with awe as he watched Michael climb onto the ladder and head up it. “He’s actually doing it.”

“A small self-preservation streak, obviously,” Justin snorted, his hands clasped as he watched Michael’s ascent. God, he wished that he’d thought to bring his camera with him because this was gold. “Very small.”

“Do you see anything?” Blake called as he leaned out the window.

“No,” Michael shouted back down to Blake as he clung to the ladder. “There is no way to get to the roof from here; the ladder stops at the next floor.”

“Damn it!” Blake cursed virulently; and really, he was getting way too into the role. Justin had to wonder if maybe Blake was a closet comics fan. “He must have used his Gravity Boots to go the rest of the way; come on down and we’ll find another way.”

“Uh…” Michael said with a tremor in his voice, his eyes wide as he stared at the ground beneath him. “I can’t.”

“Why not,” Blake asked; he leaned further out the window to see if he could figure out what the problem might be.

“I’m stuck!” Michael screamed and then squeezed his eyes shut as he continued to cling to the ladder rungs.

“You’re stuck!?” Blake exclaimed, looking all around Michael, but there was nothing to get stuck on. “How on Earth did you get stuck? There is nothing to get stuck on.”

“I suppose this isn’t the time to mention that I’m scared of heights?” Michael whimpered.

“What!?” Blake cried, staring at the other man in disbelief.

 

 

“We tried to talk him down,” Justin quickly explained when he saw Brian's thunderous expression. “But every time we thought we’d finally convinced him to climb down, he’d look at the ground like an idiot – despite Blake telling him not to – and he’d just cling to the ladder even tighter.”

 

“How the fuck did they get into that part of the building in the first place!?” Brian exclaimed as he dug his fingers into his eyes.

 

“Uhhh…” Justin rolled his lips under as he once again dodged and then outright refused to answer the question. “You probably don’t want to know that.”

 

“Justin!” Brian huffed, starting to lose his patience.

 

“No, really,” Emmett piped up. “You don’t want to know.”

 

Brian merely arched a speaking brow; he’d be the judge of that.

 

“Plausible deniability,” Blake added solemnly.

 

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Brian cursed, wanting the throttle his fiancé for all of this bullshit; but first he needed an accurate view of what all this bullshit entailed. And then, he was so tanning Justin’s hide. “All right; so, then what happened?”

 

“Uh, well,” Justin said, looking a little squirrelly. “We had to leave rather quickly.”

 

“Leave?” Brian asked with a dark look on his face.

 

“Yeah…” Blake drew the word out as he too looked sideways at his partners in crime; and Brian dreaded what was to come. “There were pol…uh…people coming.”

 

“And Mikey?” Brian prompted, getting a bad feeling about what they weren’t saying.

 

“He didn’t want to let go?” Justin said, although it lilted into a question at the end.

 

“So, you just left him there!?” Brian demanded, looking at all three menaces incredulously; why was he not more surprised!?

 

“We were going to get help!” Justin exclaimed as he defended his and his minions’ actions; Brian arched the brow of death at that comment and Justin quailed and pouted before muttering under his breath. “Eventually.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes; screw spanking – he was never letting Justin out of the house again. He caused far too much mayhem when left unsupervised.

 

“And just how did you end up here?” Brian asked, still curious as to why the fuck he had been called in the middle of the night to pick his wayward fiancé up from the hospital.

 

“Weeeeeeeeellllllll….” Justin drew the word out and Brian’s temples throbbed in sympathy; because he just knew that he was going to, yet again, regret asking.

 

“Justin.” Brian said tiredly; and really, he’d used the twat’s name in exasperation far too often tonight.

 

“We all decided to get tattoos to commemorate the evening…” Justin started, only to be cut off by an irate Brian.

 

“You did what!?” he exclaimed, staring at a cowering Justin.

 

It was at times like this that he truly questioned his fiancé’s intelligence, fifteen hundred SATs bedamned! Everyone knew that you didn’t go get a tattoo while drunk. You almost always regretted it in the end.

 

“Hey, you said you liked tattoos,” Justin huffed defensively.

 

And Justin was right; he did love a tastefully, well-done tat, on the right person. He and Justin had even talked about Justin’s desire to have one done at some point, but he never thought that the idiot would go out and do it on a whim. While drunk at that!

 

“You know what,” Brian huffed. “I’m not really sure I want to know at this point.”

 

“I did try to warn you,” the unhelpful twat pointed out.

 

“Justin.” Brian was just done at this point.

 

“So, anyways,” Justin continued blithely. “We decided to get tattoos to commemorate the evening…except there was an itsy bitsy problem…”

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Brian said with a sardonic smirk.

 

 

“Are we seriously just going to leave him hanging there?” Blake asked as they headed out, but this time all in the back of the Continental as Blake was tired of driving.

“You were the one who got him to climb the damned thing,” Justin pointed out, but he worried his bottom lip as he looked out the back window as they drove off; while Michael irritated him, he didn’t necessarily want anything bad to happen to him. “And I don’t see you rushing to his rescue, Captain Astro.”

“I just feel kind of bad,” Blake sighed as he too looked out the back window.

“Not to worry,” Emmett reassured them, unflappable as always. “I called over to Meat Hook and they sent a couple of the boys out to go rescue him. He’ll be fine.”

Justin sighed, but did feel a bit better knowing that a rescue was in sight. He turned back around to find Emmett texting with someone on his phone.

“So what’s next on our list,” he asked as he looked over at Emmett and Blake.

“Well,” Emmett drawled as he finished tapping in a message on his phone. “Remember how you wanted to get that tattoo, Baby? Well, I texted Ricky and the boys, and they are going to take us after hours. I thought what better time than now to get them?”

“Are you serious?” Justin asked, getting excited again. He’d been dying to get a tattoo for a while, but kept putting it off because he hadn’t found something he liked.

“Yup,” Emmett nodded. “I figured we could all get a little something to commemorate the evening; as I know that Blake has been considering one as well.”

“I have been, actually,” Blake admitted a bit shyly, surprising Justin as he knew the other man shied away from needles these days. Bad memories he said. But he supposed this was different. “And I know exactly what I want. I even have a picture of it on my phone.”

“Oh?” Justin asked as the car stopped and they got out at the corner of the street; he knew they’d have to walk the rest of the way as the tattoo parlor in question was in an odd little alley that wasn’t passable. “What are you going to get?”

“I want to get a mandala, also known as the endless knot, on my wrist,” Blake said, showing the picture on his phone as they walked down the sidewalk. “It means eternal harmony; and I like the idea of looking at it as a reminder for the struggle that I, and Ted, and other addicts go through every day in an effort to achieve that.”

“I like it,” Justin nodded; and then he wondered if he and Ricky could create something that he’d like as well. He’d always liked his work.

“And there is no reason to ask what you’re getting,” Emmett smirked at Justin as he entered the shop. “Isn’t that right, Sunshine?”

“Well, I’ve made it no secret that I’ve wanted to get a sun around my navel for years,” Justin huffed, rolling his eyes as he followed Emmett in. “So, no.”

"Wait...” Brian interrupted once again, ignoring Justin’s exasperated look; like he had any leg to stand on with his antics tonight. “How the hell did you get Ricky or the others to agree to tattoo you while you were still drunk?"

"Please," Justin snorted; he stood up on the stool at the end of the bed and wagged his ass in Brian’s face. "Have you seen my ass? It’s sizzling."

 

Brian narrowed his eyes as the brat sat back down with a smug smile and tried to rein in the sudden frisson of irritation and jealousy that coursed through him. He wasn’t a jealous man by nature, but every now and again, his more possessive side emerged and ached to lash out at anyone that dared to even look at his man. Something the little twat was well aware of and took great joy in provoking.

 

“All I had to do was bat my lashes and swish my ass in front of the guy and he was fucking eating out of my hand…” Justin continued in a smug tone.

 

“That better be all he was doing…” Brian growled, ready to take the impertinent brat over his knee and show him exactly what he thought about that comment.

 

“Please,” Justin drawled, even as he looked quite pleased with the reaction he evoked in Brian; yet one more transgression to add to his growing list. “Like I would settle for anything less than your cock; why bother with mediocre when I can have the best?”

 

And Brian was torn between wanting to preen – because fuck yeah he was the best – or kill the little twat for putting him through all this bullshit.

 

“May I continue?” Justin asked silkily as he stared at Brian through his lashes.

 

“Oh, please do…” Brian said, gesturing for him to continue.

 

 

“Em!” Ricky welcomed exuberantly, yanking the tall Queen into his arms. “It’s about time you got here; I thought you were chickening out.”

“Ricky! So good to see you, sweetie.” Emmett greeted just as enthusiastically, thumping Ricky on the back before he pulled away and beamed at a petite, red-headed woman. “And Charity! I didn’t know you’d be here. How long are you staying?”

“For about a week,” Charity said, hugging Emmett before she threw a teasing look Ricky’s way. “Or, for as long as I can tolerate being around my brother.”

“Which means two days at most,” Ricky snorted, dodging when Charity took a swipe at him. And then he turned and rubbed his hands together as he stared at Justin and Blake. “So, which one of these gentlemen is my victim for tonight?”

“That would be the cute blond with the fantastic bubble-butt,” Emmett tittered and pointed at Justin, causing the other man to pale slightly when he finally recognized Justin. Although why, Justin hadn’t a clue.

“Are you trying to get me killed?” Ricky complained in a plaintive tone. “Please, tell me that Kinney isn’t going to hunt my ass down and eviscerate it for touching his twink?”

“Hey!” Justin huffed, but was only mildly offended by the other man’s words. He knew all too well how weird people could be once they found out he was dating Brian.

“Just telling it like it is, sweetheart,” Ricky smirked. “Everyone on the Avenue knows better than to mess with Kinney’s boy; I don’t want this coming back to haunt me.”

“Brian is fine with it,” Justin said with mild exasperation; and then he grinned. “And if he isn’t, not to worry; he’ll take it out on my ass rather than yours.”

“You shouldn’t sound so gleeful when you say that, Baby,” Emmett snickered, wagging a finger at a smirking Justin. “We’re going to start thinking you enjoy it.”

“Please,” Blake snorted as he showed the other tattoo artist, a blond man that Justin didn’t recognize, what he wanted done. “Was there ever any doubt about that?”

Ricky, Charity and Emmett all laughed at Blake’s comment, while Justin pretended to pout; but he couldn’t hold it for long. When you’re right, you’re right.

“All right then, Princess,” Ricky snickered, patting the table in front of him. “Sit your cute little ass on the table and tell me what you want.”

Justin hopped on the table and he and Ricky started discussing what Justin wanted done while Blake sat at another table and Emmett chatted with Charity at another station. Justin showed him some black-ink tattoos that he liked, but explained that he actually wanted it done in color with the predominant color being yellow with hints of orange and maybe even red. Then, once they decided on a design, he laid down.

“So, you never did tell us what you were getting, Em,” Justin said, only flinching a bit when Ricky started his work.

“Oh, I’m not getting one; no pain for me, thanks,” Emmett said with a negligent wave of his hand. “I’m just going to get a henna-design on my wrists from Charity over there.”

“But…” Justin trailed off, feeling a bit put out that Emmett wasn’t joining them on this particular part of their venture. “I thought…”

“This was for you, Baby,” Emmett soothed, likely hearing the chagrined note in Justin’s voice. “Besides, I can never decide what I like enough to make it permanent; this way I can try something new every time I come in.”

“Oh,” Justin said and then conceded that the henna would be the better choice for his friend given that new information. “That makes sense.”

They all continued to chat and laugh with each other as the time slowly ticked away into the wee hours of the morning. And then finally, when Justin thought he couldn’t take staying still any longer, Ricky announced that he was done. Excited, Justin looked at the tattoo in the mirror, and quite pleased with how it turned out, told Ricky and then waited until the other man bandaged him up before he paid, giving the man a generous tip.

And then, when Blake and Emmett were finished with their own artwork and paying, they all left the tattoo parlor in plenty of time for Justin to meet his three o’clock ‘curfew.’ They slid into the car and were on their way back to Emmett’s house so that Justin could pick up his car and drive back to Britin, when he noticed a problem.

“Fuck; what the hell,” Justin hissed, rubbing at the bandage on his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked, as he waited for Ted to pick up, so he could tell him that he was planning to stay with Emmett as he didn’t want to go back and get his car.

“My tattoo,” Justin hissed again. “It’s burning.”

“Well, you knew it was going to hurt, Baby,” Emmett stated slowly and fixed Justin with a weird look. “Kind of goes with the territory.”

“Yeah, but not this bad,” Justin agreed, scratching at his stomach as the sensation grew and was quickly becoming more and more uncomfortable. “It feels like it’s on fire; and it itches like crazy.”

“Well, you did make sure to test the pigments before getting it, right?” Blake asked, hanging up his phone when he still couldn’t get through to Ted. Justin and Emmett looked at him curiously “I just mean; with your allergies, I would think you’d want to check that out prior to…”

“Shit!” Justin cursed, interrupting Blake’s thought; of course! Why hadn’t he thought of that himself!? “I didn’t even think of that…”

“Right,” Blake drawled and rubbed his hand over his face. “Well, then; we should probably get that checked out.”

“Charles,” Emmett said, getting the driver’s attention and rerouting them to the emergency room. “Can you take us to the hospital, please?”

“On it, sir,” Charles nodded and changed course.

Fuck! Brian was so going to kill him!

 

 

“Soooo…” Justin finished with a flourish, blatantly ignoring the irritated look on Brian’s face. “It turns out that I’m allergic to the yellow pigment.”

 

“You’re allergic!!!” Brian hissed, desperately trying not to throttle the little twat where he sat. Of all the reckless, idiotic…

 

“Mildly,” Justin said, pinching his thumb and finger together. “Just, you know…a tiny bit.”

 

“Just a tiny bit!?” Brian shouted again; and no he wasn’t overreacting fuck you very much. He couldn’t believe that Justin was taking this so lightly!

 

“Yeah,” Justin said, and then attempted to placate his seething partner when it looked as if he might pop a blood vessel then and there. “It was a very mild reaction.”

 

“Justin.” Brian explained with as much patience as he could; which, after everything he had been told that night, was minuscule at best and nonexistent at worse. “You do realize that this is kind of permanent, don’t you?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Justin said with a confused frown. “That was the point?”

 

“So, how the fuck are you going to deal with the fact that you’re allergic to the fucking pigment when you can’t get rid of it!?” Brian demanded, unable to process why his typically intelligent fiancé was being so absurdly dense about the whole thing.

 

“Oh!” Justin burst out once understanding dawned. “Oh, no! There is nothing to worry about. The doctor assured me that once it heals it won’t be an issue. Until then, I’ll be on a Benadryl regimen to take care of the symptoms.”

 

Brian just stared at Justin.

 

“It will be fine,” Justin assured him; Brian just cocked a brow and refrained from saying a word at his fiancé’s pithy reassurance. “Really.”

 

“I can’t…” Brian face-palmed and shook his head in despair. “I just can’t.”

 

“It could have gone a lot worse knowing my allergies,” Justin pointed out.

 

“If that was supposed to reassure me, you failed miserably,” Brian said as he glared balefully at his fiancé. “Is there anything else I should know about?”

 

Justin cocked his head thoughtfully to the side and then shook it. “No, I think that about covers it.”

 

“Fine,” Brian spat, once again pinching the bridge of his nose and praying for strength. He seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. “Then can we get out of here?”

 

“Yeah,” Justin chirped happily. “The doctor said I could go as soon as you got here. I just need to stop and get my prescriptions filled.”

 

“Fine,” Brian huffed and let it go at that for the moment.

 

“So…thanks for coming to our rescue?” Emmett smiled tentatively at Brian; the other man just glared at who he considered to be the instigator of this whole mess, however.

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t thank me just yet,” Brian said with a silky smile. “I messaged your partners before I got into the hospital and they should be waiting for you in the lobby.”

 

“Shit…” Blake cursed and then groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

 

“Maybe that will teach you to not drag my fiancé into your shenanigans.” Brian told him, far too pleased the mayhem he was about to create in their worlds. It was tit for tat in his opinion. “Especially you; as the sober one, you have no excuse.”

 

Blake, at the very least, had the grace to blush and look somewhat ashamed.

 

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Brian continued as he waited for his partner to finish dressing. “I have a certain blonde, bubble-butted brat to punish for dragging my ass out of bed at four in the morning. A whole hour AFTER his curfew.”

 

“Fuck,” Justin muttered under his breath; and then he slumped and accepted his fate as he put on that travesty of a dinner jacket and followed Brian out the door.

 

“Oh, there will definitely be some of that, little boy,” Brian promised, looking forward to having his fiancé at his mercy. “But not until after we fill your prescriptions, and after we rescue Mikey from the boys, AND after I spank your pert little bottom.”