My life couldn't have been more perfect.

I had a successful career as a painter, exactly what I had wanted to do since I was a child. My commissions brought me enough to have my own condo and to travel to places I only dreamed of reaching.

Then one day, if possible, my life got even better.

Of course, I didn't see it as that when my phone rang at eight on a Saturday morning after I had been bar hopping with my best friend the previous night. With a huge hangover and no desire to answer the phone, I still picked up.

It was Steven, my agent, bearing wonderful news. I had to do a portrait for a very important person. He couldn't even tell me the name, but he said he would arrange for me to be picked up next Tuesday from in front of my building and taken to the mysterious person.

When the fateful day arrived, I dressed smart and packed my best brushes and canvas. It wasn't something uncommon for me to paint celebrities. I had done it before, and I always kept it a secret. Even though it was hard when Daphne or Emmett, my best friends, begged, but I held my ground. The contract sworn me to secrecy. Besides, it got out in the news after a few months and everyone that knew me could figure out who had done their portrait.

A big Caddy limousine pulled up in front of me. A large man stepped out through the passenger's door.

“Mr. Taylor,” he greeted me.

“Uh, hello.” I eyed him dubiously.

He opened the back door for me. “Let me help with your bags.”

I slid in the car, surprised to find it empty.

I heard the trunk door shutting, then Big and Bulky got back in his seat in the front.

“Uh, sorry, but where is the person I have to meet?” It was the first time I felt unnerved when I had to meet a potential client.

“We're taking you there,” Big and Bulky answered, exchanging a look with the driver. “Would you prefer a car ride or plane ride? By car we will reach our destination in approximately five hours and by plane in less than one hour.”

“Where are we going,” I demanded, seriously getting worried about my safety.

I saw Big and Bulky exchanging another look with the driver, before he turned to me. “We can't divulge, though I can promise you that you are perfectly safe, Mr. Taylor.”

“That's what all mass murderers say before they kidnap their victim.”

“I'm afraid you'll have to take my word. So would you rather drive or fly?”

“Fly,” I answered curtly. The sooner we reached the destination, the better.

Who knows what woods we might encounter on the way if we drove?

I shuddered, huddling in the corner of the large backseat. I pulled my phone out to distract myself by chatting with Daphne, only to have it snatched from my hand by Big and Bulky, scaring the shit out of me in the process.

“Dude! I'm not calling the police. I believe you. You're the good guys. I'm talking to my best friend,” I explained.

“Where we are going—Who are you meeting—It's all confidential,” he said sternly.

“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “Now, can I have my phone back?”

“Of course.”

I didn't like his creepy smile. Inconspicuously, I checked my phone, sure he had done something to it. At first look, it seemed fine.

Daphne, I might not make it to dinner tonight. I'm meeting the new client. He's out of state, I think.

The phone pinged in my hand moments after I sent the text message.

You lucky cunt! Have fun!

I snorted. She was absolutely crazy, but I wouldn't have her any other way.

Don't call me tomorrow first thing in the morning. Wait till noon.

Sure. I have the graveyard shift at the hospital so I'll sleep until evening.

Take care. =)

I pocketed my phone as we reached the airport. Soon, I would know our destination.

Big and Bulky opened my door and I realized we were on the runway next to a small private airplane.

So much for knowing the destination.

As I followed the big guys up the stairs, I hoped I would meet the extravagant client. No such luck, of course.

The hottest flight attendant I had ever met brought me a drink, asking if I wanted anything else. There was something I wanted, all right, to introduce him to the Mile High Club.

“No, thank you.” I smiled, taking a gulp from my glass.

If I looked for too long at the flight attendant or too suggestively, it went unseen by Big and Bulky, for which I was grateful.

I lost many a client when they found out I was gay. Especially parents who wanted me to paint their child.

“So you're a bodyguard or something?” I asked, trying to make conversation with Big and Bulky.

“An agent,” he answered curtly.

“I see. Secret Agent Man.” I couldn't help but chuckle. “And does Mr. Agent have a name?”

The man's blue-gray eyes narrowed at me, and I took it as a hint to shut up.

I managed to doze off having nothing else to do and being bored out of my mind.

Once we landed, we got in another limousine SUV. I stayed glued to the window to get a peek at some touristic attraction of the city I was in, and then I saw the Washington Monument.

My stomach squirmed uncomfortably.

No way.

I glanced at Big and Bulky, busy speaking on his phone in quiet murmurs.

What are the chances that today I meet the President?

No sooner than the thought entered my mind, we were on Pennsylvania Avenue—the road that led to the White House.

Holy shit!

I wished I could text Daphne about this, but I knew I had to be even more careful than ever before.

We pulled up in front of the huge building. I had never visited it, because when my school had the trip planned I had ended up getting chicken pox from my baby sister. I resented her for weeks.

“This way, Mr. Taylor.” Big and Bulky led the way inside the building. He had my bag over his shoulder. He checked me and my bag thoroughly before leading me to the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, pressing a finger to his earbud, then like in the movies he confirmed The Painter had arrived to his sleeve microphone.

The Painter would be me. For a brief moment, I was sad I didn't have a special name like the President himself, you know...the Eagle.

I fidgeted, looking around, taking in the grandeur of the place.

“Never seen it?” Big and Bulky smirked.

Dazed, I shook my head. I needed someone to pinch me. This wasn't real.

“I bet you figured out who you're going to paint. The President is waiting for you.”

That sounded alien to my ears.

We proceeded upstairs to the second floor. Big and Bulky turned many corners and I knew I would get lost if I were left on my own. He stopped in front of a room. “This is the Yellow Oval Room. The President prefers it for non-formal meetings.”

I nodded, my mouth dry and my heart beating out of my chest.

He knocked once, before poking his head inside, then he opened the door wide gesturing for me to go in.

I walked in on jelly legs.

“Shut the door,” a soft voice said from the other side of the room.

I didn't have enough courage to look up, so I did as instructed, then deposited my bag on the floor.

“Well, come closer.”

Don't trip, I repeated in my head as I took a few steps to the elegant sofa.

There he was. Standing by the window, a glass of whiskey in hand.

God. I gulped thickly, doing my best not to undress him with my eyes. He was the hottest president we ever had. Hands down.

Tall and lean, always dressed impeccably. Chestnut hair, which I noticed was longer than the last time I had seen him on TV. Those plump, kissable lips. Chiseled jaw. Hazel eyes that could melt ice, yet turn the most torrid fire into ice.

“Hello,” I mumbled.

“Whiskey?” He offered with a small smile.

“Uh, sure.”

I usually told myself all celebrities were normal people just like me, but this was a special case. I was feet away from the President of the United States of America. He appeared to be as normal as the next guy, but he wasn't. He was a higher species.

I accepted the glass with trembling hands.

“So... Justin Taylor, famous painter of Pittsburgh, are you surprised to find yourself here?” the President asked, amused.

“You can say that...sir.”

He scoffed. “Don't. Please.”

“Oh...okay.”

The President traced the rim of his glass, watching me squirm. He probably got off on how nervous I was.

“Shall we sit?” He waved to the sofa.

“I guess.” I shrugged, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa. When he kept eyeing me amused, I plucked my courage to talk. “What did you have in mind for the portrait?”

His eyes hardened and I realized I made a mistake, only for the next second for the President to laugh loudly. “You don't beat around the bush, do you?”

I averted my eyes. “I'm sorry. It was quite blunt to ask that, but I'm curious why me.”

“Why not you?” He glanced to the right, and I followed his eyes.

“Holy fuck! Is that my painting?” I swear, my heart stopped for a nanosecond. My first try at still nature was above the mantle-place in the freaking White House.

“It's not the only one I have,” the President went on.

I turned to gape at him. I willed my mouth to close, but the shock was too grand.

“You're quite talented, Mr. Taylor. I want to hire you as my painter.”

“Y-your painter? What does that mean?”

“That means you don't have to find yourself another job until my term is over.”

“I thought you wanted your portrait done,” I said in disbelief.

“I do. I also want other pieces of art that you can create.”

“I'm sorry, sir. All I can offer is the desired portrait. I promise to dedicate all my time for however long necessary, but no one can buy me.”

“That's not what I meant. Though, I understand you and appreciate your sincerity.”

I sighed in relief. For a second, I thought I had kicked a huge opportunity with my pride.

“Where would you like to pose? I'm afraid to ruin any part of this house.” I managed a small smile.

He returned my smile. “I was thinking of Camp David or my home.”

I blinked. “I think I lost you,” I laughed nervously.

“You must know the President has a residence at Camp David. Everyone knows that. But I was thinking of taking a break from this madness and going home for a few days.”

“I'm sorry, I thought you lived here,” I mumbled.

“I do, though I have my own house. I wasn't born here and nor would I remain here after my term ends,” he explained gently, like I was mentally challenged. And maybe I was, because I couldn't think clearly around him.

A stretching silence settled between us.

I looked around the room, taking in the beautiful architecture. Then my eyes settled on the man beside me.

I was surprised to find him watching me.

“When are you free, Mr. Taylor?”

“Uh, I have a few free weeks coming up. I guess, it all depends on your time, sir.”

“Would you quit calling me that?” The President sighed loudly. He stretched his hand to me. “Brian Kinney.”

I stared at his hand for a long moment, before I grasped it in mine. So big and manly. I had to cross my legs so he wouldn't see my preteen reaction.

If only his brief touch gave me an instant hard-on, I wondered what would happen if he touched me for longer. Then I shook my head, and focused on the present moment.

The President had just presented himself to me as the man.

“Justin Taylor,” I said lamely.

He smirked, dropping my hand. “Well, Mr. Taylor, is it all right if I contact you by the end of the week with details? I haven't decided yet where I want to go.”

“Sure.” Thinking that was all, I stood. “So, I guess this is it.”

“In a hurry to leave?”

My eyes widened. “Oh, I thought...”

“Ben says you haven't visited the White House before.”

“Ben,” I repeated, dumbly.

“My security man. He brought you here.”

“Oh, Big and Bulky.” I chuckled.

The President threw his head back, laughing loudly. “He'd love the nickname. Shall I give you the grand tour?”

“You?” I gasped.

“Is there something wrong with me introducing you to my house?” the President teased, standing and downing his drink.

“No. I thought you were busy...”

“I'm not needed anywhere at the moment. So would you like to start the tour?”

“Yeah. I'd love to.” I grinned, feeling so much excitement.

We went out of the room and back the way Big and Bulky had brought me. The President started with the library, saying it was his favorite place.

“Can I ask how you escaped the customary visit to the White House as a student?” he asked, while we walked through the rows of books.

I might have blushed. “I had chicken pox, no thanks to my younger sister.”

“Ah, don't look so put out. You're getting the tour by the President himself. Not many have this privilege,” he joked.

I grinned, tracing a finger over the spine of the books in front of me. “It feels surreal,” I admitted.

He leaned closer as if he didn't want anyone to hear which was crazy since we were alone. “I'll let you on a secret. I've never seen the White House until I became president.”

I snorted, watching him incredulously. “Must have been interesting.”

“You have no idea. Ben is a life-saver. I got lost more times than I care to admit.”

“That's why you earned the title as the Never on Time President.”

“Fashionably late is in trend.” He shrugged.

I got the most thorough tour anyone ever got. I was aware some of these rooms were closed for public visits, especially the ones from upstairs.

He even showed me the Lincoln bedroom, which he admitted it was his favorite bedroom in the house.

We moved the visit to the grounds. The second we stepped outside the house, Big and Bulky along with his clone, appeared from out of nowhere, walking a few feet behind us.

“Don't mind them,” the President said quietly.

The South Lawn was beautiful and inspired me so much that I couldn't wait to get home and paint.

As we walked, we kept the conversation light, about the architecture and funny stories from various visitors of foreign countries, but never about his family.

I knew he was the only president we ever had to be single, but openly acknowledge he had a son. Most American families were in his situation, divorced or separated, so his social points were higher than anyone else's. He wasn't into bullshit to portray a happy family, when it was clear his relationship had ended badly.

No one knew who the kid or his ex-wife were. He never discussed it, always saying it was part of his private life and he would prefer if it was kept it that way.

I couldn't hold my tongue about this anymore. “Okay, I know you're the first single president, but you don't even have a dog.”

He chuckled. “Actually, I have one. I hear it's a must. If you think about it, I'm the model President. I have a child and a dog.”

“But you're not a family man.”

“And apparently no one gives a shit about it. I'm still liked by the people.”

“You've done more than anyone before you,” I admitted. I wanted to compliment him about insisting on equal rights for gay people, but that would be a dead give-away.

“Ah, you mentioned not meeting my dog. Brace yourself,” he said lightly.

I didn't have time to brace myself. Before I realized what happened, I was flat on my back with a huge bear of dog on top of me, breathing on my face, licking me enthusiastically.

“Bruce!”

I pushed the dog's head away to stare at the President, towering over us. Thinking he had forgotten my name, I mumbled that my name was Justin.

He chuckled, dragging his dog off me. “I know your name, Justin. This is Bruce.” He petted the beast's head.

“Oh. Holy shit. He's huge.”

“He's a Caucasian Shepard. And he's still young, only two years old.” The President stroked the black fur.

“So all things big in this house start with B?” I laughed nervously. “Big and Bulky there. Bruce here.”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling. “Brian here,” he added on a seductive voice, or so I perceived it.

I realized my mistake too late. “Oh. I didn't mean...”

“Brian.” Big and Bulky called from his spot a few feet away.

The President looked up, frowning. “I'll be right back. He's big and silly, so don't worry. He won't bite,” he explained, pointing to his dog.

I sat up on my knees, reaching a tentative hand to stroke the dog's head. He closed his eyes, whining.

“Huh. So Bruce, you must live like a king here.” I ruffled his fur. I found his collar in his thick fur. The tag read Bruce on a side, and on the other were the President's initials.

“Mr. Taylor, I'm afraid we have to cut our meeting short. Duty calls. Drew will take you home.” The President gestured to the other Secret Agent.

I sat up, brushing the grass off my jeans. “It's okay. I'll have to get my bag.”

“Drew already has it in the car for you.”

“Brian,” Big and Bulky said urgently.

“I'm coming, I'm coming. Later.” The President shook my hand again, maybe squeezing it a little more than necessary, before hurrying after Ben.

Bruce ran after him, his tail wagging in the air.

I went to where Drew was waiting for me, and after a final look at the big house, I got in the car. I had a feeling I would never see it again. It felt like my dream was coming to an end, when in reality it had just began.

By Friday, I was certain it all had been a nice dream.

I was at Liberty Diner with Daphne, doodling on a napkin while she prattled on and on about some new hot doctor at her hospital.

“Are you listening to me?” she demanded, snatching the napkin from under my pen. “Who's B.K.? Your new boyfriend? Why don't I know about him?”

Shit. I was already making childish mistakes.

I couldn't even say that he was my client. I had no idea if we had a deal or not.

He had surely left an impression.

I thought of him constantly, and when I had seen him on TV the other day, it seemed like he was a different person. I had known only the ruthless man, leading the country, but now I knew about the real side of our President. He was a truly fascinating man.

My phone rang. A private caller. It took me a second to make the connection. He was calling me.

“Hello,” I breathed out, feeling like a stupid teenager talking with his crush on the phone.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor.”

That velvety soft voice was going to be my undoing.

“Have you decided?”

He chuckled. “How are you? I'm fine, thank you for asking. What about you?”

I might have blushed, averting my eyes from Daphne's knowing smile. “Uh, I guess I'm eager to know if we have a deal.”

“I thought that was already decided. Did you arrive home safely that evening?”

The President cared about me, enough to ask about my trip.

“I had your man keeping me safe,” I joked. “Thank you. Drew was much nicer than Big and Bulky.”

He laughed quietly. “Ben's a great guy, don't diss him.”

“Maybe he's selective with the people he's nice with.”

“Give him the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, are you free this weekend? I'll send Drew to get you since you have bonded better.”

“I can come on my own, you know that, right?”

“You wouldn't find the house. I've decided to retreat to Camp David for the weekend. How soon can you be here? Tomorrow morning? Tonight?”

“Tonight,” I repeated skeptically.

“Is there something wrong with tonight? Do you have plans?”

“Well, it is Friday night...but I can always cancel my non-existent plans. Send Drew, please.”

“I'm a step ahead of you, Mr. Taylor. Drew is already in Pittsburgh,” he explained softly.

“What? I'm not at home now. I better head there.” I got up from the booth and ran smack into a wall, or so it felt. When I peeked at the man I had bumped into, I gasped. Drew.

“Did he already find you?” The President was having too much fun with this.

“How?” I wasn't sure who I was talking to—the man on the phone, or the one in front of me. Then I had a flashback of Big and Bulky stealing my phone. “No way,” I gasped. “You had me traced.”

“Ben didn't trust you. Believe me, I chided him for doing such a thing without your consent, but I guess it helped us now,” the President explained.

“I'm not sure how to feel about this. Okay. I'll go pack for the weekend. See you soon, I guess.”

“Later, Mr. Taylor.”

After we hung up, I chanced a look at Daphne who was openly gaping at Drew. To his credit Drew didn't seem to mind he was in a place filled with queers.

Holy fuck! He knew.

He would tell the President.

I might lose my dream job.

“I...have to go,” I told Daphne, lamely.

“Who's the hottie?” She nodded to Drew, now standing near the door, waiting for me.

“It's a long story...and it's confidential. Take care. Tell Emmett I'm sorry for standing him up again. I haven't seen him in weeks.”

“Don't worry your bubble butt. Have fun!”

With a kiss on her cheek and a few bills near my plate, I followed Drew outside. There was a large Caddy waiting for us again.

“You can stay upfront. I'm driving,” he explained.

“Sweet.” I jumped into the car, immediately being surrounded by the leather smell. “One thing, though...”

“My job is to protect, not talk.”

“Thanks, Drew.”

We drove in silence to my condo.

“Do you mind coming with me? I have many things to get if...uh...the President wants to start the portrait.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Justin,” I said instinctively. I wasn't used to being addressed so politely.

Inside my condo, I offered Drew a glass of water, before I rushed to pack. Clothes, toothbrush, art supplies, sketchpads, all was thrown chaotically in an over-beat duffle bag.

“Done.” I came to a skidding halt in the kitchen doorway.

Drew was inspecting the pictures on my refrigerator door. Most of them were of me and my friends, Emmett and Daphne, along with some I should have taken down ages ago that had me and my ex smiling.

“You have nice friends,” he stated.

“I thought you weren't a talker.”

“I'm stating the obvious.” He grabbed my bag, but I could see his eyes lingering on Emmett's picture.

Really? Could he bait for my team? He was the epitome of straight man.

In the car, my stomach did somersaults. I hadn't been this nervous since the time I came out to Daphne.

“I hope you don't mind, but we're going to drive there,” Drew said after a while.

“Sure.”

“So better make yourself comfortable. If you're tired, you can recline the seat.”

“I'm good, thanks.” He really was nicer than Big and Bulky. I should come up with a name for him as well...maybe Teddy Bear. As ferocious as Drew looked, he was a marshmallow on the inside.

A few hours later, my phone pulled me from a deep conversation with Teddy Bear. He insisted Tom Cruise was still hot, which proved my theory that he was queer too, but also proved he had bad sight.

“Can I?” I asked, holding my ringing phone.

He gave me an amused look. “You know Ben was fucking with you, right? As long as you don't say anything regarding Brian, be my guest.”

“Emmett,” I greeted my friend, relaxing back in the leather seat.

“What is Miss Daphne telling me about not seeing you for the third week in a row?”

“Uh, yes...New client,” I explained lamely.

“Most be loaded. Daphne said he sent a gorilla after you.”

When Drew snorted, I realized he could hear Emmett, too.

“Uh, something like that.”

“If he's handsome, tap that.”

“Emmett,” I hissed, beyond embarrassed.

“Is he there with you?” he asked, clearly amused.

“No, but have some decency.”

“Oh, so it's some fossil wanting their painting done for the grandchildren.”

“No. He's not a fossil. Look, can we not talk about this? You know I can't tell you who I'm doing.”

“So you plan on doing him? Good job, baby!”

If my face got any hotter, someone could fry an egg on it. And Drew wasn't helping one bit, laughing under his breath.

“If you keep this up, I'll have to hang up,” I threatened Emmett.

“There's so much dirty in that sentence you just uttered...”

“One more word and I will never mend your broken heart after you fall for every trash available!”

“Ouch. Shutting up.”

“Good. So...how have you been?”

“I sold a cute t-shirt to this bear of a guy. God, baby. He was totally hot!”

Drew's eyes snapped to me, and I raised an eyebrow. He frowned, slowly returning his attention to the road, while Emmett babbled about the muscled man who had visited his store.

“...and I have this distinctive feeling I've seen him before somewhere, though I don't know where.”

“The backroom of Babylon?” I supplied, rolling my eyes.

“No, it was somewhere else.”

“We're getting near. You should end your phone call. You can talk once you get there,” Drew instructed.

“Uh, listen Emmett, I have to go. I arrived at...my client's. See you next week. I promise.”

“All right, sweetie. Have a nice weekend.”

“You too.”

There were two Marines at the gates. They nodded in greeting to Drew.

A shiver ran down my spine as we pulled up in front of the cottage.

I only managed to unbuckle my belt when the door opened. I was too shocked to speak when I saw none other than the President himself.

“We meet again, Mr. Taylor.”

“Not like you didn't know I was coming, or where I was when we spoke earlier. How many people do you stalk like that?”

“Only the important people.”

I huffed. “I should feel safe with you, but knowing you're aware of every step I take...it's scary.”

“I'll have Ben take the tracking chip out of your phone.”

I waved my hand around. “What's done is done.” I didn't think beyond this weekend. I should have accepted his offer, probably.

After we started walking to the house, I noticed he was dressed casually. Over-washed jeans and cable knit sweater never looked better on anyone else.

Inside the house was warm, a deep contrast to the chill outside.

“Let me show you to your room.” The President seemed more relaxed in his vacation home. “Here.” He opened a door, switching the light on.

“Thank you. It's really nice here.”

“I'll be downstairs. Take all the time you need.”

I freshened up after the long car ride.

I found the President downstairs, in the sitting room. He was by the fireplace, leaning against the side of the mantel piece.

“What do you think about this pose?”

I approached slowly, scratching my ear nervously. “You might get uncomfortable standing for so long.”

“So you propose we do this sitting?”

“It’s better that way, sir. We can take as many breaks as you want.”

He frowned, coming closer. “I thought we were over you calling me sir.”

“Right. Uh, it’s odd and not polite to address you casually. You keep calling me Mr. Taylor,” I pointed out.

A slow smirk spread on his face. “Of course. Let’s sit down and discuss my portrait, shall we…Justin?”

“Sure, sir.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Say after me: Brian.”

My eyes widened.

“Go on. Bri-an.” He laughed.

I chewed on my lip, before clearing my throat. “Brian,” I whispered, not looking him in the eye.

“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

“Not really.” I managed a small smile.

“I was thinking a neutral color for the background….and the main picture focused on me, mostly my face.”

“I see. Can I offer you my humble opinion? I’ve done portraits before and I know what looks good.”

“Of course.”

“We will focus on your face as you want, but I want some shoulder and chest into the portrait. How do you think you want to be dressed? I’m thinking a tie would look sophisticated, but too formal if you want the portrait for your pleasure.”

“For my pleasure?” The President barked a loud laugh. “Who do you think I am? Dorian Gray?”

I blushed and stammered an apology. “I mean for yourself, to hang it in your house…”

“So I could tell people I’m hung?”

I had no idea how to take his jokes. Were these sexual innuendos? I thought he was straight.

Christ. If he turned out to be gay…I could ruin my career...and his.

I decided to test my theory. The worst that could happen was for him to kick me out.

“I thought you already told people that.”

He watched me surprised, smiling broadly. “Aren’t you a smart boy?”

“I have my moments,” I said modestly.

He stood up, startling me. “It’s getting late. We can start working on the painting first thing tomorrow morning. I know you artists prefer the natural light.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. I had said too much earlier. He was probably upset, and putting a distance before I ran my mouth even more.

Retreating to my room, I crawled in bed and prayed this commission would end well. Being alone with Brian scared me.

At some point during the night, the acute need to piss roused me from a deep sleep. I blindly stumbled to the bathroom across my room, then since I had woken up, I went to grab some water.

On my way back, I hurried since I was barefoot and it was fucking cold.

I got under the surprisingly still warm blanket and tugged it around me, shivering. A loud groan of protest made me shoot out of the bed, tumbling on the floor, hugging the blanket around me.

The nightstand lamp was turned on, and I blinked against the harsh light.

Brian was sitting up on the bed, his hair tussled, watching me curiously.

“What are you doing in my bed?” I asked stupidly.

“I should ask you that since you’re in my room.”

It took me a beat to realize I got in the wrong bedroom. I wanted to die of embarrassment. 

“If you wanted to get in my bed, you could have asked. You don’t look half bad, so I might have accepted the offer,” Brian said with a wink.

“What?” I shook my head. “I’m really sorry. I went to grab some water and then…I got in the wrong room.”

“You don’t say?”

“I’ll go back.” I scurried out of his room, only to realize I still had his blanket around me. I returned it to him, finding him watching me amused. “Your blanket.”

I put it at the foot of the bed, before running to my room and diving under my cold blanket.

The next morning, at first, I had no idea where I was, then I remembered the President’s proposal. Then last night’s events came crashing on my head like a bucket of ice cold water.

When I gathered enough courage, I adventured to the kitchen.

Brian was at the table eating egg white omelet.

Huh, he cooked.

“Good morning!” He beamed. Maybe he had forgotten about last night. “Tell Matilda what you’d like to eat.” He pointed to an elderly woman by the stove.

“Just some cereal and milk.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Make him an omelet and fried bacon.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not hungry.”

“I hear sleepwalking drains you of calories.”

“Ugh. I was hoping you’d forgotten,” I mumbled.

“Well, it’s not every night when a hot, young, blond boy comes uninvited in my bed.”

I blushed crimson. “You should have told me that your room was next to mine.”

“Now you know.” His words held more meaning than I cared to comprehend so early in the morning.

After breakfast, he took me on a walk to show me the surroundings. I had to stop him at a fallen log and dig into my backpack for the sketchpad. Before I could pull it out of my bag, Big and Bulky appeared from thin air, placating me to the ground.

“BEN,” Brian shouted, irritated. “For fuck’s sake! Does Justin look like a serial killer to you?” He took my hand, hoisting me up, dusting my shoulders and butt off dead leaves. “Are you okay?”

“I…yes. Actually, my ass hurts,” I admitted shyly.

“Do you have anything to say?” Brian glared at Ben.

“How could I know what he’d pull out from his bag?”

“I’m sure that small backpack is filled with hand grenades.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Stop this. I mean it.”

I expected an apology from Big and Bulky, but it never came.

“Do you still want to sit here and sketch? We could go back inside the house,” Brian suggested, still holding my elbow.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here to sketch for a while. The view is inspiring. You could head inside.”

“Ben, follow me,” Brian barked, strutting toward the house.

I gingerly sat on the log, watching their retreating forms. I guessed Brian was really upset with Ben. With a good cause too. He always attacked me or thought I was set to hurt the President.

Hours might have passed, I wasn’t sure, but when a large shadow obscured my light, I looked up to see none other than Big and Bulky. He offered me a mug of hot cocoa, sitting next to me.

“Is this poisoned?” I had to check.

“Like I’d tell you.”

I eyed him nervously.

“Brian would leave me dickless if I harmed you. It was his idea I came here to make peace.”

“Well, I get it. You want him safe, but do I look like a bad guy to you? I didn’t even know where we were headed the first time we met…when you chipped my phone.”

“It’s my job to protect Brian. Everyone is a potential threat in my eyes,” he explained seriously.

“Okay, I get it. Though, now you know I don’t have any hidden intentions, besides painting him,” I confirmed, taking a sip from the hot cocoa. “This is delicious. Thanks.”

“It’s Brian’s special recipe.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have strict instructions to bring you back inside before you turn into a Popsicle.”

“Lead the way.” I laughed, seeing more and more what a funny guy the President was.

“This is never going to work,” I muttered, agitated.

I was preparing for my latest show at the gallery and nothing went the way I wanted. The futuristic painting, created of many small painting pieces was fucked up by the idiots who put it up.

One of the portraits of an old client was set in a place no one was going to look, and that was one of my best pieces.

The piano guy who had to play canceled when he got the flu. I had to call my ex to show his violin skills. No one had heard of a violin player at an art gallery, but that was the least of my troubles.

I had specifically numbered all my paintings and placed the corresponding number on each part of the walls in the gallery. I couldn’t be there 24/7 to hold their hand.

Brian’s portrait was occupying most of my time. Over our weekend together, two weeks ago, I had only managed the outline. And I was trying to work with that and whatever other small sketches I had made of him.

I had only seen him one other time in between then and now, when it took me two hours to pluck the courage to call the number he had given me. Surprisingly, it was a woman's voice who answered, but I figured he had better things to do than to answer his phone. After much stumbling over words to explain who I was and why I was calling that number, I was connected to Brian. He was extremely busy. I knew that. I was up to date with the news. There was an influx of visits at the White House from foreign officials.

Brian squeezed in some time for me, which made my heart beat faster, especially when he said, “For you, I can always make time, Mr. Taylor. Drew will be with you shortly.”

My visit was brief. He sat at his desk, reading articles, ruffling through papers, browsing the Internet, while I sat on a sofa, sketching him. I caught only bad angles, or so I thought at first. Then when I got home, I noticed I had caught all the fine details, like his chiseled jaw that went for miles, the deep look in his eyes when he concentrated, the curve of his slightly crooked nose, the snarl on his lips when he shouted at the poor lady for bringing him shit coffee.

“If the puzzle painting isn’t the way I want by opening hours, I swear no one is getting paid,” I yelled at the four people trying to re-arrange the pieces the correct way.

“Easy with the claws, tiger,” Emmett called from the doorway.

“Coffee.” I rushed to his side, grabbing my mocha from his hands. “You’re a life-saver, you know that?”

“Who upset you? Tell me. I’ll set them straight.”

I giggled. “Straight as a boiled spaghetti?”

He was the epitome of gay with his flamboyant lifestyle and his love for bright colors.

“Are we going dancing after your show?”

“I suppose…”

“If you won’t go out on your birthday, then when?”

“Okay, you win. I’ve been busy with my new client’s portrait and organizing this show. I need some time for myself.”

“You really do, baby. You need to relax.” Emmett winked.

#

The show turned out to be a huge success. There were more visitors than I expected, but I guessed people had left their houses for last minute Christmas shopping and saw the fliers for my show. Whatever brought them here, I was glad they visited, even if most of them only looked.

I was in front of a small sketch of the landscape in Camp David, many trees and the setting sun—one of the best views I had there.

“That’s exquisite.”

My heart jumped in my throat when I heard the melted honey voice in my ear. Whirling around, I noticed Brian. He was under disguise, wearing a long beige trench coat with the collar up and a beanie pulled down his forehead.

“Hi.” He smiled brightly.

“Hi,” I repeated dumbstruck, glancing around. I spotted his two goonies by the doors. Daphne and Emmett were staring at us from the other side of the room. “Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Before you comment on my stalking tendencies, I’ll have you know that your birthday is public information.”

“Any excuse to see me, Mr. President?” I had no idea where I got the courage to tease him like that. Maybe it was the wine I had sampled earlier.

His eyes widened. “Don’t give away my secret identity,” he said playfully.

Emmett came rushing to my side, and I could see Big and Bulky watching apprehensively. Emmett clung to my arm, pressing his lips to my ear. “That’s the hot guy I told you about! The one who came into my store two weeks ago!” He pointed to Drew, not so subtly. “And I just figured out where I’d seen him before. You wouldn’t believe it!”

I caught Brian’s eye, apologizing through a look. He had angled his face away from Emmett, in case he looked too closely.

Though, Emmett was relentless and oblivious. “I saw him a couple of days ago on TV. He’s the President’s bodyguard.” He lost some of the exuberance, eyeing me thoughtfully. “What is he doing here I wonder…”

“No idea.” I shrugged, seizing Brian by the elbow. “Uh, I’ll have to cancel our plans again. Sorry, Em,” I said over my shoulder. “Hurry,” I urged Brian.

“Was that your friend?”

“He’s really wonderful, though he can get a little too…enthusiastic about things,” I explained.

“Fascinating.”

We got in the back of his Caddy.

“So why are you here? The real reason.”

“It’s my painter’s birthday. I can’t take you out to dinner, so I brought dinner to you. If you don’t mind, that is.” He looked almost shy, like a little boy.

My phone pinged in my pocket, but I ignored it. Brian sort of asked me out on a date.

The President asked me out.

Me.

Justin Taylor.

When my phone kept beeping like crazy, Brian started laughing. “Someone lost you.”

“Ugh. I bet it’s Emmett. Give me a sec.”

I focused on my phone where I found an influx of messages on WhatsApp.

Where did u go?

HOLY SHIT! Baby, way to go!

That was HIM, right?

I need deets!

Then there was Daphne.

You cunt! You’re abandoning us for the first piece of hot ass!

OMG! Emmett just told me.

No way! You didn’t! The President?... Really?

And to make the whole thing complete, Ethan had written me too.

I thought we had plans together.

Can I drop by your place later after your trick leaves?

Brian’s gasp confirmed my suspicious that he was reading over my shoulder.

“I’ve never been so insulted in my life. Me! A trick?”

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized profusely.

“I’m never the trick! Tell him, Ben. I have tricks, but I am never the trick!”

As he kept talking I could hear the hint of amusement in his voice, then his words sank into my head.

“Uh, you have…tricks…sir?”

“Oh, like you haven’t figured it out yourself by now. I’m queer.”

With the corner of my eye, I could see Ben cringing, but my sole focus was on Brian admitting his sexuality.

“It all makes sense,” I mumbled to myself.

“Now you understand why I keep my private life as secret as possible?” He eyed me fearfully.

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone…and I will have a talk with my friends to keep their mouths shut too. Your secret is safe with me, Brian.” I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

He cracked a small smile. “I hope you like Thai. That’s what I ordered.”

I realized we pulled up in front of my building.

I panicked, knowing what a mess was inside. “Uh, maybe we should go to a hotel….I mean, you should stay at a hotel.”

“Is there enough space to sit on the couch?”

“I guess.”

“Good. I’m coming in. You two can go to the hotel. I’ll be fine.”

I saw both Ben and Drew about to protest, but they thought better of it.

My night was going to end wonderfully. I already knew what was going to happen when we reached my condo.

“I apologize in advance for the mess,” I said, unlocking the door.

When I stepped inside I was shocked by how clean my place was. For a wild second I feared I got in the wrong apartment, then I saw Bran’s smirk.

“I’m not sure whether to punch you or kiss you.”

“Judging by the fact that uh...Big and Burly, was it?...could kill you with a snap of his fingers, I’d choose the second option. That’s a win-win.”

“Bulky,” I blurted out automatically.

“Sorry?” Brian frowned, opening the bags of food sitting on the table in the kitchen.

“Big and Bulky, not Burly.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re a twat?”

“Not especially.”

“Well, you are. Now join me. I have a feeling we’re going to need the strength.”

“Is that so, Mr. President?”

He responded by pinning me to the wall next to the kitchen door and shoving his tongue down my throat. All rational thoughts flew from my mind.

I tugged the beanie from his head, throwing it away, before grabbing two fistfuls of his hair. I had wanted to do that from moment one. It was just as soft as I had predicted.

His fingers deftly unbuttoned my dress pants, going for the gold. When I felt his slightly cold hand on my dick, I bucked into him, moaning into his mouth. He stroked me slowly, mirroring his hand actions with his tongue.

I was going to lose my mind. “Brian,” I breathed against his lips.

He pulled away, resting his forehead on mine. “My name has never sounded better on anyone else's lips.”

“That's so corny, Mr. President.”

“Are you going to drop the mocking, Painter Boy?”

“I've only just begun.” I stroked his hair, smiling. “I have to admit, you're an excellent kisser.”

“You're not so bad yourself.” He caught my lips in another searing kiss. “I don't always indulge in dessert, but when I do, I prefer it before the main course.”

I giggled, unable to stop the sound from exploding out of me. The euphoria of being in the President's arms, kissing him, being invited to bed by him, it was too much.

“Bedroom is that way.” I pointed with a shaky finger to the spiral staircase leading to the upper floor.

Interlacing our fingers, he pulled me up the stairs. I stumbled a lot, and nearly took him down with me when my foot slipped off a step.

Upstairs where was my bedroom and studio, and the bathroom, I let him look around for a moment to take in the room.

“Is that bed sturdy enough?”

I snorted in laughter. “It is.”

“Did you test it?”

“That's highly inappropriate. I'm not going to tell you about my former lovers who visited that bed.”

“Lovers? As in plural?” Brian looked impressed.

“Do I look like a virgin boy to you?” I huffed.

As soon as I uttered the words, I realized I had just lied. I was sure Brian was a Top, and I hadn't given my ass to anyone yet.

“Problem, Painter Boy? Drowning in your little lies?” Brian smirked, closing the gap between us. “Don't worry, I promise to be gentle.”

I tugged him to the bed, sliding his coat off his shoulders. It was beyond me how we were still dressed for outside. Brian draped his coat on the back of a chair, taking his boots off. I followed his lead, before pushing him on the mattress and crawling up his body.

I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then unzipped his pants. I burrowed my nose in his boxer briefs, inhaling his scent, wrapping my lips around the tip of his dick through the fabric. He shifted under me, and I took it as a sign to help him out of his clothes. Each article of clothing flew over my shoulder until we were both naked.

God, he had a body to die for.

Who would have thought our President had a beautiful six-pack? Or that he was hiding a nine inch dick in his pants? Or that for some crazy reason he wanted me?

Brian laid me on my back, taking the lube and condoms from the drawer I pointed out.

He sat straddling one of my legs, tugging at my dick, eyeing me amused.

“Are you a Top?”

“Does it make a difference now?” I knew he was going to fuck me. And for once in my life, the thought of having a dick up my ass didn't scare me.

“So you're a Bottom?”

“Both,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“So you're versatile.” He smirked.

“And ambidextrous.”

“Really?”

“I can punch you with both hands if you don't get your dick in me pronto!”

“Shall I call Big and Bulky?” he teased.

I grabbed his dick, squeezing hard. “I don't want to make it on the news for being the guy who killed the President.”

“Hmm...maybe Ben was right, after all.”

“Brian, can you stop teasing? If you keep stroking me like that I'm going to come like an inexperienced teenage kid!” I barely finished talking when my toes curled and I painted his chest in cum. “Shit.”

He wiped a dollop of cum off his abs, before sucking on his fingers. “Well, that was unexpected,” he commented.

I tugged the pillow over my red face.

Brian lifted the pillow, kissing me slowly. “You taste delicious.”

My dick jerked back to life at the compliment.

I wanted to reciprocate, or even blow him, but then Brian retook his position between my legs, one lube-coated finger probing my entrance.

“Yess.”

“You're so tight,” he said, surprised. “Tell me, Painter Boy, has really no one else been here?”

I nodded jerkily, breathing through the slight pain for another finger joining his first. “Only a fake dick. Much smaller than....” I gestured to his cock.

He grinned, slowly stretching me, all the while stroking my dick, bringing it back to full mast.

I had never come twice during sex. Before, it was either a hand job, or blow job, or fucking. Not both.

When he ripped the foil, my heart jumped in my throat.

He was so beautiful, focused on rolling the latex on his dick, his tongue peeking out of his mouth.

“Put your legs on my shoulders.”

I did as instructed, which brought us impossibly close.

Carefully, Brian pushed into me, breaching me slowly. I could feel my face scrunched up in pain.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It hurt.

“Does it always hurt?” I gasped out, squeezing my eyes shut.

“It gets better. You have to relax,” he instructed softly.

A few pushes and pulls later, I relaxed enough to enjoy the feeling of him moving inside me. His eyes stayed on mine, wide and dilated, filled with lust. Then he braced on his elbows on either side of my head and started fucking me the way I knew he wanted, the way I needed.

I had been an idiot to deny myself this pleasure. Having a hard dick up my ass was possibly the best thing about being gay...and I had missed out because I was too scared of hurting.

Though, if I thought about it, none of my former lovers could come even close as being called a Top, and maybe, subconsciously I was saving this for the best. Brian was the best.

I arched my back, meeting him thrust for thrust. He reached to grab the headboard, plowing into me. The friction between our bodies was enough to have my dick erupt between us, once again taking me by surprise. It was a night of firsts on so many levels.

With an inhuman growl, Brian came, slumping on top of me. He lay there for a few seconds, settling his breathing, before he pulled out, taking the condom off and heading into my bathroom.

When he returned, he pulled his boxer briefs on, searching his pants pockets.

For a wild second, I thought he was going to pull the wallet out, mistaking me with one of his tricks. Then I noticed a box of weed.

“Do you mind?”

“No...” I rolled out of the bed, tugging a pair of sweatpants on. “I'm kinda hungry, though.”

“We worked out an appetite there.”

It was then when I understood he wasn't into sentimental bullshit. He was into fucking. Just that. Getting off.

I led the way downstairs, blinded by my tears.

I shared something very important to me with him. And he took it for granted, not even asking if I liked it. That was a given, but still, the thought would have counted.

While Brian rolled a joint, I heated our food.

We took it to the living room where we sat on the floor on the plush carpet.

Eating Thai and smoking pot was a deadly combination. Too soon, we were both high as a kite.

I was currently on my back, grinning at the ceiling. Brian had hilarious stories from where he had traveled.

“I almost got caught once,” he confessed. “I was in London. The man who took me places to visit their touristic attractions was a total hottie. So we ended our tour in my bed at the hotel.” He glanced at me. “You have to know I always kick my tricks after fucking them. We were both too drunk after visiting a bar, so we fell asleep. I woke up next morning with the Prime Minister at my door, checking if I was okay since I had missed our breakfast date. Lucky, Jamie was dressed by the time the Prime Minister pushed his way into my room. I gave him some lame excuse that I was talking with Jamie about my schedule for the day.”

“I bet he bought your explanation...what it with you rolled out of the bed.”

“You have a point, but the man is a diplomat. He'd never say anything.”

“I'm sure it's difficult to keep this a secret,” I said thoughtfully.

“You have no idea. I used to be quite the player in college. It took a lot of dough to keep all my tricks quiet.”

I burst out laughing. “I have this image of a long line of hot guys and you handing them packs of money, threatening to cut their balls off if they said anything about your adventures from college.”

“You're not very far off,” he joked.

I stretched, sighing heavily. “So how is it? To be the President of the U.S.A.?”

He scrubbed at his face. “Don't get me started. The excitement died down three hours after I was installed into the White House. It was around four in the morning when I got the call about Stockwell's death and all that shit was dumped on my head. I had no idea about half of what was going on.”

“Oh, I remember that. The Chief of Police in D.C., right?”

“The one and only. I dug deep to solve the case and keep the country's faith in police. The fucking idiot was so deep in the black market of drugs and prostitution, I still have no idea how that case was solved.”

“You know there was a dead kid in the dumpster behind the diner on Liberty Avenue? His murder was later on linked to Stockwell's friend, Keith or Roger or whatever...a police officer from Pittsburgh. He committed suicide when Horvath, the actual Chief, went to arrest him.”

Brian rolled on his side, working on another joint. He lit it up, handing it to me. “I had no idea, but now that you say it, I remember reading somewhere that Stockwell had a friend in the Pitts.”

“And...you know his friend was into twinks? He picked them from a bar, used them, then dumped them...literally.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“I worked at the diner as a bus boy, then...since Horvath sort of started dating Debbie, my boss, though they started on the wrong foot, I got involved. I befriended one of the hookers and went with him to that bar. He pointed out the cop and I worked my magic.”

Brian choked on his smoke. “Did you fuck the cop? The one who killed twinks? Were you dropped on the head a lot as a baby?”

“My intention was to fuck the cop, but Hunter, the guy who brought me there, came after us...and the cop ditched me for him. Next thing I know is Hunter giving Horvath a sample of DNA...cum. That's when Debbie and Michael, her son, started coddling the little shit. Eventually, he turned out all right, when he stopped whoring around.”

“Where were you three years ago when I needed this info?”

“Trying to help as best as I could,” I answered cheekily.

Brian puffed from the smoke. “And this is why I should be closer to the people. Such little things...small town heroes like yourself...should be appreciated publicly.”

“Uh, please don't. Yeah, maybe some of those who do good deeds on a regular basis would appreciate to be noticed by someone higher than them, especially by you, but not me.”

“It could be a very intimate award ceremony.”

I smirked, snuggling into his side. “Like, me servicing you on my knees.”

“You're the one being awarded.”

“No way! You'd kneel before me?” I gasped.

“Who said anything about kneeling?” Placing the roach between my lips, he slid down my body, pushing my pants down and engulfing my cock in his mouth.

“This is a story to tell my grandchildren. The President went down on me.”

“If you want to scare them to death, sure.”

“And he's a dope.”

“Hey, now! Be nice to the guy blowing you.”

“If you bite me, Ben will have a real reason to hate me.”

He laughed, taking me back in his mouth and sucking with vigor. It was the laziest and hottest blow job I ever got. Brian stopped every time I was on the brink, pouting his lips so I pressed the joint to them, then he returned to driving me crazy.

I was so turned on that I pointed him out to the sofa where I had condoms and lube hidden under the cushions.

Our second round of sex had nothing gentle about it, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I screamed so loudly I expected my neighbors to call the police.

When I came, white blinding light flashed before my eyes and I collapsed back on the soft carpet. Brian lay on his back next to me, grinning like a fool.

“One could get used to this.”

I watched as he lazily scratched his stomach, before turning to meet my eyes, raising a brow.

“Oh, I should answer to your statement?” I teased.

“I think I'll want another painting.”

“The current one isn't even done. But it's catching shape. It looks more like a portrait every day.”

“And I still can't see it?”

I nodded in confirmation. “I want it to be a surprise.”

“Whatever you say, Picasso.” He stood, heading upstairs.

He looked too at ease in my home, like he had been there all his life. It made a warm feeling spread through my body.

A knock on the door startled me. I wasn't expecting anyone, but figuring it was one of Brian's goonies, I tugged my sweatpants on and went to answer.

I was assaulted by an inebriated Ethan, clinging to me and saying he missed me.

I was too stunned by Ethan's appearance on my doorstep to react.

I was in the process of peeling him off me, when Ben and Drew came running up the stairs. Ben narrowed his eyes at me.

“Is this man troubling you?”

I smiled gratefully at Drew, but I knew they would hurt Ethan if I said yes. As much as he got on my nerves, I still cared for him to some extent.

“It's okay. Thanks.”

I took Ethan to the kitchen, installing him on a chair with a glass of water in front of him, then I joined Drew and Ben in the sitting room. Their eyes were locked on the scene of crime...the carpet in front of the sofa where there was the tied condom and the bottle of lube.

Our attention was drawn to a stark naked Brian bounding the stairs. He came to a skidding halt next to me, staring at his bodyguards.

“What's up, boys?” Brian threw an arm around my shoulders. Still gloriously naked.

I glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Ethan was still there, before I gently pushed Brian toward the stairs. “You should get dressed.”

“And you're needed back,” Ben said seriously.

“What wasn't clear about this weekend being off?” Brian snapped.

“It's Gus,” Ben hissed.

Brian's whole demeanor changed before my eyes. From the playful man he was not that long ago, he seemed to have aged ten years. “What's wrong with him?”

“There was an incident. Lindsay demanded you get there.”

Brian ran up to get dressed. He was back in five minutes, heading straight to the door, but then he stopped and smiled at me. “Later.”

I couldn't help but smile back like an idiot.

After locking up in their wake, I remembered about Ethan being in my kitchen. He had fallen asleep with his head on the table.

As I pulled him up and toward the stairs, I thought of what Ben said. Who was Gus?

Was it a code for something?

Was it an actual person? If yes, then who?

“You're here.” Ethan beamed, waking a little.

“You're in my home, of course I'm here. Now get in bed and sleep. I have shit to do.”

“Won't you join me?” He slurred out.

“Sleep, Ethan.” I tucked him under the blanket after ripping the sheet off the bed; then I grabbed my sketchpad and coal pencils and headed downstairs.

I cleaned up after our fuck on the carpet, then curled up on the sofa.

I could fill in all the pages with Brian's face. He was so expressive, but I focused on sketching some of the features that would help with my portrait.

Gentle fingers on my face roused me from sleep. I stretched, rolling around and brutally waking up when I hit the ground.

“Fuck.”

“Hey, Jus. You okay?”

I cracked an eye open, and moaned. Ethan.

It took me a moment to remember the previous night. So beautiful. Harshly interrupted by Big and Bulky and Teddy Bear stealing Brian. Ethan’s appearance.

“Why are you here?” I picked myself up, scratching my head as I went to make coffee.

“You told me to come over once you were done with your trick.”

“I didn’t! You assumed. Besides, Brian isn’t a trick.”

“Brian,” he scoffed. “He looked like a loser.”

I snorted, busing myself with pouring grounded coffee in the machine. After adding water, I pressed the button. Not ready to face my ex, I pulled two mugs from the cupboard, sugar, cream, teaspoons. When it was absolutely nothing else to do, I turned to see Ethan smiling at the photos on my refrigerator’s door.

“We were so happy, Jus. What the fuck happened?”

“Are you kidding me? You fucked up, remember?”

“Can you ever forgive me? I know I’m asking for a lot...”

“It’s too much, Ethan. You promised me forever. I guess our view of forever is different. You went after that guy with the first occasion. You have no idea how much it hurt.”

“I had no idea you came to surprise me!”

“Or you wouldn’t have done it?” I snorted. “Please, let’s not rehash this old argument.” I knuckled my forehead. “I knew you’d get the wrong impression from the second I called you to fill in for my show, but I was desperate. Speaking of the show. It was beautiful, thank you.”

“You weren’t even there.” He pouted, still gazing at our photo. “Who is this Brian?”

“It’s new. Let’s not jinx anything.”

“He looked vaguely familiar.”

“Remember my confidential clients? He’s one of them, so if you ever figure it out…keep it to yourself. I mean it.”

“Must be someone important. I had no idea you did your clients.”

I had no idea what to say, so I shrugged. The coffee maker beeped, giving me something to do.

We sat at the table, waiting for the coffee to cool enough so we could drink it. I grabbed my smokes, my hands shaking as I lit myself one.

The first pull felt like heaven.

He scowled, still disapproving of my bad habit. “Are you ever going to quit? These things kill.”

“Shut up, Ethan.”

“Why do you still have that photo?”

Christ. It was too early for this shit.

Placing the smoke between my lips, I reached for the photograph of us, snatching it from under the magnet. Acting on impulse, I ripped it in front of him.

For a second, it looked like he was going to cry, but next thing I knew he was storming out of my house, the door slamming in his wake.

Good riddance.

I carried my coffee to the couch where I found my phone. A zillion of messages on various social media applications.

I scrolled through them, before deciding to call my best friends. I made a conference to have both Daphne and Emmett on the line.

“Happy birthday,” Emmett shouted.

“Hello, guys,” I greeted them through a yawn.

“Someone had a long night, huh?” Daphne teased.

“Not quite. He had to leave early. I guess it’s not easy to be…him.”

“So, baby…How is it to fuck the President?”

I palmed my face. “Emmett! I’m not going to answer that.” I inhaled from my cigarette. “Listen, I called you both to have your word that no one will know about this.”

“Oh, no! I already told everyone at the diner,” Emmett gasped, making my heart stop. I swear it fucking stopped beating for a second.

I choked on my smoke. “What?” I roared.

“I told you not to use that joke,” Daphne chided him.

“For fuck’s sake, Emmett! I died for a second. No one knows about Brian. Stop scaring me.”

“I wish I could have seen your face.”

“So…plans for today?” Daph inquired.

“Paint? I’m behind the schedule, having to babysit those idiots at the gallery.”

“Oh, right! Donna said you sold six pieces and to let you know that.”

“Which ones?”

“The puzzle piece is one of them,” Daphne explained. “Not sure which others.”

That was expensive. I hoped the person who got the puzzle piece would be able to assemble it the right way.

“Uh, guys, I have another call. Catch you up later?”

Biding their farewell, I answered to the private number. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi,” I breathed into the phone.

“Good morning! I hope I didn’t wake you,” Brian said softly.

“Been awake for a while. Is everything okay?”

“My son is a drama princess. I have him with me until after New Year. I’m close to raising the white flag already.”

“It can’t be that bad. How old is he?” Justin smiled at the image of Brian playing with a little boy.

“He turned five in September. Gus, I told you NOT to bring him inside.”

“But he’s all alone and cold out there.” I could hear the small boy’s plea. I had a feeling Gus had brought Bruce into one of the otherwise pristine rooms from the second floor.

“Your argument is invalid,” I chimed in, giggling when I heard Brian ready to protest.

“Why don’t you come babysit him, while I run the fucking country? Guuuuusssssss.” There was a crash from the other end of the line. I could hear the boy mumbling something, while I worried he had injured himself. “Nothing important, no, Sonny Boy. That was just an invaluable China vase here since fuck knows how long.”

“Maybe you should restrict his access to all rooms. Or have someone stay with him?” I advised.

“I tried that. Ben brought him to my office ten minutes later, because Gus started crying. Apparently, he is scary to Gus.”

“I get it. Big and Bulky is terrifying.”

“Sit on the damn sofa! Dooon’t. No, please don’t start crying. Fuck, Justin. I have to go.”

Acting on impulse, I blurted out the most stupid thing ever. “Do you want me to help?”

Thank every deity up there, Brian had already hung up.

Obviously, whatever we had, if we had anything at all, was too new to meet his son. Especially, when he was the fucking President. And I was a mere peasant who could be tossed to the curb once the portrait was done.

If all I had with Brian was the few weeks that it took me to complete his portrait, I would cherish them and enjoy them to the fullest.

It wasn’t like this could go anywhere. I was smart.

What could come out of this? Was Brian going to introduce me as his lover to the people?

I snorted, slouching on the sofa.

Whatever time I got with him, it was going to be the best of my life. Even if I was going against my rules to go back in the closet, deeper than ever before. Brian was worth it.

He wasn’t hiding because he was ashamed, he was hiding because well…being gay was still taboo, and he was leading the country where all kinds of people lived. He set an example. He was already breaking too many White House rules, being a rebel without having a family. No one needed to know he is gay. 

After shopping for Christmas with Emmett, I was exhausted. Though, a brief nap was all I needed to get my energy back.

I had managed to advance with my painting. Brian’s portrait looked amazing.

I was currently working on his hair. I had found a particular photo on the internet that made his hair look shiny and silky, exactly how I knew it was. So I used it to help me mix the colors.

The doorbell rang loudly, startling me. I wasn’t expecting anyone. 

Wiping my hands hastily on my dirty, paint covered clothes, I rushed to answer. I hoped it wasn’t Emmett with more shopping plans, or Daphne with cooking plans, or worse…carol singers.

It was neither of them. Just Big and Bulky looking worn-out.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor.”

“Ben! Hi.”

I had no idea why he was here. Brian was clearly busy with his son. I didn’t fit in that equation.

“Better get ready. Pack for a week or so.”

“What? Uh, come on in.” I gestured for him to step inside.

“Brian invited you to his house. Are you declining?” Ben raised a brow, amusement clear on his face.

“Sure. I mean, sure I’ll pack. You look tired,” I noted, retreating upstairs.

He followed me. “With the devil’s spawn around, even the dog is tired.”

“Does Brian know how you speak of his child?” I threw clothes in my duffle bag.

“He calls him that, so he must know better.” Ben cracked a smile.

I nearly dropped my toothbrush. He can smile. He’s human.

“Is that the painting?” Ben nodded to the easel.

I froze. “Shit. Uh, yeah. I was hoping to be done by the end of the year.”

“Brian won’t mind.”

“Do I have time for a quick shower? I stink.”

“Sure thing, sir. Take your time. I’ll wait in the car.”

Ben grabbed my bag and was halfway to the stairs, when I called after him. “Stop calling me sir. I’m just Justin.”

After the quickest shower ever, I got dressed, covered the portrait, then rushed downstairs. The Caddy was on idle.

I slid in the passenger seat, getting an odd look from Ben. Shit. I was used to riding up front with Drew.

“I could go in the back if you mind,” I offered.

“He might not mind, but I do. I’d get bored here.”

I whirled around to find Brian sprawled in the backseat, grinning at me. Not thinking clearly, and too excited to see him again, I climbed between the front seats, landing on top of him.

Ben snorted in laughter, while Brian gasped, before hugging me tightly. I crashed my lips to his, but he pulled away, glancing to his right, apprehensively. I followed his gaze, and my eyes widened.

There was a mini replica of Brian, dozing off.

“He’s so cute!”

“Don’t wake him.” He kept me on his lap as Ben started driving. “He appears to be the sweetest child, until he starts running. I grew ten white hairs in the span of three days.”

“Aww, poor baby.” I pressed my lips to his temple. “Is his mom busy?”

“She’s off to see fucking Madrid with her gir…partner.”

I frowned. “She has someone else? Isn’t that like cheating?”

“So this is cheating?” He kissed my lips softly. “We were never married. She’s my best friend. I helped her with Gus, because she wanted a child.”

“And couldn’t she find someone? A nice guy? Or was this strategy to get in the White House?”

“He’ll get along with Gus. Both ask too many questions,” Ben chuckled.

Brian sighed heavily. “I’ll tell you the whole story someday.”

It took me a few minutes to realize we weren't headed for the airport. I glanced at Brian to find him staring out the window, lost in thought.

I decided not to ask questions. I trusted him. Wherever he took me, I would go.

It still felt incredibly unreal. I was sort of, kind of, dating the President. I fucked him, well...he fucked me, but that was technicalities.

I felt his phone vibrating against his chest pocket—and my shoulder, before it started ringing. He extracted it swiftly, casting a worried look at his son, before answering.

“What, Jane?” He listened intently, groaning. “You've got to be kidding me. When did it happen?”

I saw Ben suddenly on alert, his eyes looking at Brian through the rearview mirror. They could talk through looks, because Ben nodded, swerving the car right on time to get the exit for the airport.

Brian pushed me so I slid between him and his son, as he brought out a mini laptop from his travel bag. He started clicking away, murmuring into the phone.

Something terrible was happening, and I could feel my limbs shaking.

“Yes, I can fucking see,” he snapped suddenly. “Give me all the details you have. I'll be back in less than an hour.” His voice was tense. “And...Jane, find out if...if Lindsay...” He swallowed thickly.

After hanging up, he kept his eyes on the laptop, clicking away.

“Sir?” Ben's voice startled me so bad, I jumped. “We're here.”

Brian put a hand on my knee, squeezing. “Tell Sam I need to get back, Ben. I'll wait here. Only I am going back. You are going home with Justin and Gus. And you'll guard them with your life.”

My stomach did somersaults.

Ben nodded, sliding out of the car, leaving us alone.

“What happened?” I had no idea how I could still talk.

“There's been an attack in Madrid. All I know is what I see on the news.”

Madrid. Attack. “Wait. Isn't there where Gus's mom is?”

“Yes,” he answered tensely. “Listen, Justin. I want you to listen to Ben. He'll take you to my house. I hope to make it there before Christmas, but no promises.”

“What about your son?” My mouth dried. “He'll be so scared to wake up and find you gone.”

Sighing heavily, Brian leaned over me, pulling Gus until the little boy was on his lap. The laptop was on my legs and the images I saw made my stomach turn.

God, I hated terrorists.

“Gus. Gus, you have to wake up, kiddo.” Brian stroked his head.

“Are we there yet?” The child mumbled, scrubbing his eyes and looking around. His eyes landed on me.

I offered him a small smile.

He burrowed into his father, searching his eyes.

“This is Justin. I told you we were going to get him from his home. There's a slight change of plans.”

“We're not going to the manor?”

“You are. You, Justin, and Ben. I have to go back.”

“I don't like Ben,” Gus mumbled.

“You already have something in common with Justin.” Brian snorted.

“Ben is scary,” Gus told me.

I nodded emphatically, ready to cling on any thread to befriend him.

“I will try to come home soon, but we discussed this. My job is...well, it's different than any other.”

“Daddy's got a super special job.”

“Exactly.” Brian smiled, kissing Gus's forehead.

There was a tap on the window. Brian rolled it down.

“It's ready, sir.” Ben was so tense, I bet he could snap any moment if he bent the wrong way.

“I will call as soon as I have a free moment. Listen to Justin and be good.” Brian kissed Gus again, cuddling him close, before getting out of the car and allowing Gus to take his seat.

I tried not to show how disappointed I was that I didn't get a kiss.

With the tinted windows, I didn't see him rounding the car, but when the door on my side opened and an arm pulled me out, I might have screamed.

Brian snorted, pressing me against the side of the car. After looking around like a hawk, his lips mashed against mine. “I'll see you soon. Please, take care of my son.”

That was such a huge responsibility. “I promise.”

“If you need me, tell Ben. He will contact me.”

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. I threw my arms around his neck, sniffing.

“Don't let him see you like this. He doesn't know. And I don't want him to know,” Brian instructed.

“Of course. Sorry.” I wiped my eyes. “Go, see what you can do...Take care.”

He nodded solemnly.

Then he turned and left.

I got back in the car, only to find the door on Gus's side open and the child missing. Fuck. Then I looked up and saw him running after his daddy, clinging to his legs.

Brian brought him back, a hand rubbing his back, as he whispered things into his ear. He met my eyes, smirking. “Good luck.”

“Wha’?” It was the most intelligent thing I could say.

Next thing I knew, Gus was sitting next to me, scrutinizing me. “So you paint?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to be a painter too.”

“It's a good job.”

“You get to play with all these pretty colors.”

Oh, fuck. Now I understood Brian.

“Maybe I could teach you?”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Sure.”

When Ben got behind the wheel, I instructed him to make a detour by my condo. We had stuff to get.

I didn't know anything about children, but I was determined to win over Brian's kid. Though, alarm bells rang in my head. If the kid got attached to me, and after I finished the portrait we never saw each other again...it would hurt him.

We needed to have a serious talk—Brian and me.

“This is so cool!”

I saw Ben with the corner of my eye, as he cringed.

I smiled at Gus. He was coating his little hands in the not yet dried paint I had on my pallet, before leaving multicolored hand prints on my white walls.

“Gus, stop this. Let Justin pack up,” Ben said sternly.

“Let him play. I don't mind.” I decided against taking Brian's portrait with me, knowing I didn't have the time to work on it, but I grabbed a few sketchpads, colored pens, coal pencils, even some of my acrylic paints and brushes.

Gus listened to Ben, going to stand by his legs, staring at his palms. Paint dripped on the floor, and before Ben could scold him for that too, I picked the kid up and took him to the bathroom.

“Let's wash your hands.”

“Ben is upset,” he whispered.

“Ben doesn't know how to have fun. I love to finger-paint too. There's something about feeling the gooey texture on your fingers.”

Gus beamed, then focused on helping me take all the paint off his hands.

With more clothes packed, along with my art supplies, I was ready to head on to this new adventure.

The drive to Brian's house was filled with Gus talking my ear off about his art projects in school. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and he stared at me intensely, stopping his word vomit.

“Are you okay?” I checked.

“Can you help me with a super secret project?”

“Tell me what you have in mind, and I'll see if I can.”

“We have an art project about the person we love the most in the world. I want to draw Daddy. Will you help me?”

Ben turned to me sharply, narrowing his eyes. I realized I had to choose my words carefully when I declined Gus.

“We'll see what we can do, but you know we don't have to be obvious.” When Gus eyed me curiously, I remembered to use small words. He was a child. “We can't reveal your dad's super secret identity.”

“We can draw him like my hero.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” I grinned at him.

I had a feeling we were getting closer to the destination. We were on a long road with no houses in sight. Figures, Brian's house would be as safe as all his others.

“Jus?”

It was the first time Gus addressed me on my name, or a part of it, at least. “Yes, Gus.”

“Do you know that Daddy is really my hero? He saved me last night.”

Ben snorted, masking his laugh with a cough.

“Oh, yeah? What happened?”

“I stumbled at the top of the stairs. Daddy caught me before I could fall.”

Jesus. He was a real troublemaker.

All I could hope was that Gus wouldn't get hurt on my watch.

When Gus glued himself to the window, I figured we had arrived.

Holy fuck! The house was huge. And gorgeous. Like my ideal dream home country manor.

“I wish Daddy allowed Bruce to come with us,” Gus mumbled.

“Whenever you two are together, things break. Expensive things. Irreplaceable things.”

“It wasn't my fault Bruce waved his tail into that vase.”

“Brian said you were pulling at his ear.”

“I was playing with him!”

“I bet it hurt him,” I interjected, not wanting Ben and Gus to fight. “You don't pull at his ear. You pet his head, brush your fingers through his fur...that's how you play with him.”

Ben pulled the car in the garage. “Okay, everyone out.” His attempt at a joke, left Gus watching him warily.

Loaded with our bags, we walked through a corridor into the house. The door led to the hallway.

Gus immediately ran up the stairs.

I placed a hand on Ben's arm, making him glare at me, so I dropped it. “He's a kid. That's all I wanted to say.”

“I know that,” he snapped.

“Do you? You can't control him.”

“I have to protect him.”

“From other people. Like I said...he's a kid. Kids fall down, pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and are running toward a new adventure the next second.”

To cement my statement, Gus rushed back downstairs, stumbling over his feet. He landed on his knees in front of me, so I helped him up. He looked unperturbed, not even a tear in his eyes.

“Ben! Ben! Look what I found!” He showed him a firetruck. “I thought I lost it!” He cuddled the toy to his chest.

“That probably has a year worth of dust on it,” Ben muttered. “Can you keep an eye on him while I check with the staff taking care of the house? They live in the cottage there.” He pointed to a wooden cabana, close to the trees, a few yards away.

“Sure. We'll be around.” I nodded.

“Let me show you the manor, Jus.” Gus grabbed my hand, leading me to the sitting room. “I love to sit in front of the fire with Daddy. He tells me cool stories, but Mommy doesn't like them. Mommy always com-plains about Daddy's stories.” He shook his head, taking me to the kitchen. He tugged me down so I crouched by his side. Gus cupped a hand to his mouth, leaning to my ear. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yup.”

He pointed a little finger to the cupboard in the corner. “Miss Sally keeps the cookies in there.”

“Does she now?” I laughed.

He nodded seriously. “Of course, she doesn't know that I know. Mommy always says only one.”

“Then you should listen to your mom.”

Gus got a mischievous look in his eyes, I had only seen at Brian. “Daddy sometimes allows me two when I'm super good.”

I chuckled. “We'll see about it.” I stroked his head, smiling.

“Let me show you my room! It's so cool!”

We took the stairs carefully. Judging by the door, I could tell his room was every little boy's dream. Brian adored his child.

There was a big Donald Duck cartoon pinned to the door.

“Pat his tummy,” Gus prompted me.

“Uh, what?”

“Like this, silly.” He rubbed his hand to the duck's tummy.

To my surprise the bleak opened. “Quack, quack. Hi, Gus!”

Gus beamed up at me. “It was Daddy's idea.”

“Cute.” I smiled, allowing him to enter his room first. Just like I suspected.

Race car bed in place.

The solar system hanging from the ceiling.

There was some sort of measuring device to the side of his closet. Gus went straight to it, gluing his back to the wood.

“Measure me! I bet I grew again.”

I indulged him, raising the handle about two inches. “How long has it been since you visited?”

He scratched his head. “Last summer probably. I don't see Daddy much. I miss Daddy lots.”

“I bet you do. My dad used to be very busy when I was young too.”

Gus's brown eyes widened. “Is he still busy?”

I shrugged, silently wondering why I had brought up my sack of shit father in the conversation. “I have no idea. I haven't talked to him in a while.”

“I bet you miss him,” Gus said seriously. “Oh, look at my cool alien spaceship! It even flies!” He carefully picked up a round aircraft, placing it at my feet, before clicking a few buttons on a remote control. “Uh huh.” His lower lip trembled when nothing happened.

“That runs on batteries. Maybe they're no longer good. You haven't used it in a while,” I explained. “Can I take a look?”

Gus handed me the remote, sniffing.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed the remote controller was turned off and the batteries were in place. Solving the problem, I handed it back to Gus. “Try it now.”

Carefully, he pushed the big button, then squealed when the spaceship lifted off the floor. He directed it to the hallway, then he was running out.

“Hey, hold on!” I rushed after him.

We found Ben downstairs, pacing agitated, talking on his phone. He spotted us at the bottom of the stairs, and approached after hanging up.

“Is everything okay?”

“It's the first time we come here when Brian didn't call beforehand. If any of us thought about it, we would have remembered Sally mentioning she was pregnant in September when we were here for Gus' birthday. She gave birth to her child two weeks ago. She's home with her husband. I told them to not even think about coming here.”

“Oh, so what do we do?”

“I know how to cook,” Ben said seriously. “The problem is that Brian needs me back. I just got off the phone with Drew. He's on his way here. Can you take care of Gus for a few hours?”

Too much information thrown at me in such a short period of time. “Okay. I can do it.”

“Good. Then I'm off.” Ben went to Gus, dodging the flying spaceship right on time. “I have to go. Be good for Justin.”

“Great. I like Jus.”

“That's good then.” Ben cracked a smile, patting the child's shoulder. “I wrote you some emergency numbers on the notepad in the kitchen.”

I nodded, walking with him to the door. “Do we have anything to eat? Gus might get hungry.”

“There should be snacks. You can order take-out. The proofed companies are in the notepad as well. I really have to go.”

“Okay, thanks. Bye.”

Ben shook my hand. “I guess you're all right.”

“Gee, thanks.”

After closing the door, I turned to find Gus watching me curiously. “Do you want to work on the special art project?” I asked.

“Can I have some water, please?”

“Sure, come on. Turn that off. You don't want the batteries to run out.”

While searching for water, I found we had pretzels and Gus's praised cookies. I grabbed two bottles of water and a bag of pretzels. “Come on. Show me to a room where we can get dirty. We don't want to upset your daddy by dirtying this whole house.”

“My playroom.” Gus ran up the stairs.

I found him into a room on the last floor. It was an open-space room. He even had a mini easel installed there, which showed me how serious he was about painting.

We sat on the floor and I handed him my sketchpad and pencils. Unlike other children who got upset when they didn't manage to draw the way they wanted, Gus was the picture of calm. He used the eraser a lot, trying harder.

I helped him by making a quick sketch of his daddy in superhero clothes.

He copied it as best as he could, better drawn than many kids his age. He even added an eye-band like Zorro’s.

“What's wrong?” I wondered when I saw him frowning. “It turned out real nice.”

“I'm thinking what letter to put on his chest.”

“D?”

He gave me a disbelieving look. “P. If anyone asks, I'll tell them it's from Perfect.”

I gave him a watery smile. “Sounds like an amazing idea.”

Gus handed me the pencil. “Can you draw it? I might ruin the pretty drawing.”

“It's your special project.”

“Please, Jus.”

“Okay, okay.” I focused on penciling a nice P that wouldn't look too complicated for a five year old to make. “There you go. We're going to paint it tomorrow.”

“It looks real pretty! Thank you, Jus!” He hugged me tightly.

“It was all you, kiddo. Now how about a bath and then to bed with you. It's pretty late.”

“I'm kinda hungry.”

Shit. I had forgotten to order take-out.

My phone rang, and after pressing my finger to my lips, I answered. “Yeah?”

“Hey, I'm almost there. Did you two eat?”

It took me a moment to figure out who it was on the other side of the line. “Drew? No, we didn't eat. We were just talking about it.”

“Then get ready. We're going shopping. Brian told me to do the groceries before arriving, but I decided to take you with me.”

I laughed. “Okay. We'll get ready. Are you close?”

“I'm pulling up in the garage.”

Shopping with a five year old was draining.

He wanted everything, especially the colored boxes, no matter what was inside. He threw a huge tantrum about not getting him a box of nails, and at the moment, Drew was talking sense into him that we wouldn't buy all the pineapples available because they were pretty.

In the beginning, it was funny, but it was getting to be too much even for me.

I plucked Gus off the floor where he had thrown himself, screaming at the top of his lungs, and placed him in the cart. “If you're good, we'll get you more cookies.” That seemed to do the trick because he quieted.

Between Drew and me, shopping was efficient. We filled the cart to the brim.

While we loaded the bags in the car, Drew surprised me with asking if I would mind if we dropped by the diner.

“I bet you don't feel like cooking at this hour. We could buy a sandwich. It will do.”

“Are you sure? You saw what people frequent that place. I don't want to scare Gus.”

Drew chuckled. “I'd love to see Brian's face when Gus tells him about the place we took him to eat.”

“You can't! He'd freak.”

“Oh, please. We have a few places like the diner in DC, too. His moms take him there from time to time.”

It was then when I wondered for the first time if Lindsay was gay too. It would make sense.

Before Drew could get in the car, I stopped him, dropping my voice. “Do you know anything?”

He shook his head solemnly. “Brian will let us know whatever the outcome.”

“I hope Gus's mom is safe.”

“You mean moms.” He smirked at my confused look. “Oh, Brian didn't tell you.”

“No, but I figured. Gus dropped a momma here and there, and I should have made the connection since he called Lindsay mommy.”

“You're smart too.” He touched his heart theatrically.

The backdoor of the Caddy opened and Gus poked his head out. “Are we going to eat? I'm telling Daddy you starved me!”

Drew rolled his eyes. “Do you mind staying with him again? Having a booster chair is the last thing I want in my car.”

I laughed, joining Gus. “We'll eat soon, buddy.”

We arrived at the diner on the busy evening shift.

Debbie spotted me from the door, waving like crazy. I led Gus and Drew to the back booth where only Emmett was sitting with his back at us.

“Sunshine! I've missed you! Who are your friends?” Debbie asked, eyeing Gus curiously.

I glanced at Drew, unsure what to answer. “Drew Boyd. Nice to meet you, ma'am.”

“None of that ma'am bullshit.” She waved him off. She pointed to her name tag. “Name's Debbie.”

I scratched the back of my head. “And this is Gus. A friend's son. We're babysitting,” I explained. “Hey.” I grinned at Emmett who finally turned to acknowledge us.

“Baby!” He enveloped me in a big hug. His eyes widened as he pulled back, staring dazed at Drew. “Well, hello, handsome.”

“Stop flirting with the security,” I hissed into his ear, shooting Drew an apologetic look. To my surprise, I found Drew staring at Emmett just as fascinated as he had been when he saw him in my picture.

I decided to leave them make goo-goo eyes at each other, while I went to the other side of the booth next to Gus. “Try not to feed him too much sugar,” I told Debbie, unimpressed by the amounts of sweets on her notepad.

She tapped my nose with her pen, keeping her smile in place. “I want to hear all about this.”

“Gus is my client's son. I can't divulge his name.”

“Daddy has a super secret identity.” Gus nodded proudly.

“So burger with fries and a sundae.” Debbie pinched Gus's cheek. “What about you?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Turkey sandwich. No mayo.”

She turned to Drew, breaking the spell between him and Emmett. I sat next to Gus, helping him out of his jacket.

“He's a total cutie,” Emmett said dreamily.

“Thank you,” Gus answered promptly. It made us burst out laughing.

“What do you want? Like father, like son,” I joked. “So you met Drew back then?”

“Yeah. He visited my shop. God, I wish I could see him wearing that top on the dance floor at Babylon.”

“Negative.” Drew shook his head.

“How did this happen? Last I saw you, you were tired from Christmas shopping.”

“Brian dropped by to surprise me with a visit to his private home. Things got in the way...and I'm babysitting his son with Drew.”

“Can I help?” Emmett begged.

“I won't be stuck alone with Gus while you two...No.”

Drew cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked Emmett, pointing to the spot next to him.

“Be my guest.”

God. I rolled my eyes. They were disgusting without even doing anything really.

Dinner was quiet, except Emmett asking Drew various inappropriate questions, he obviously couldn't answer. They weren't subtle at all about liking each other, because even Gus leaned into me, tugging me down until his mouth was at my ear.

“Do you think Drew likes, likes your friend?”

“It seems so,” I whispered back.

Gus threw them an inconspicuous look. “They're so different. Drew is so big and powerful. Your friend is so thin and that color of his shirt is yucky.”

I laughed, glancing at Emmett's neon orange shirt. “I guess you're right, but opposites attract. Like yin and yang, and the negative and positive of magnets.”

Gus frowned, probably lost at my complex answer. “Just like you and Daddy, right?”

“M-me and d-d-aa-ddy?”

“Yup.” He nodded. “Daddy is so tall and important and loves his clean clothes. Well, you are kinda short and your clothes have paint on them.”

I knew he didn't mean it in a bad way. He was a child, for fuck's sake, but he was so right. My place wasn't anywhere near Brian. I was so different from him.

“I guess,” I answered, deciding to placate him. No need to drag that painful conversation.

By the time Gus finished his dessert, he looked ready to fall asleep. I nudged Drew under the table, showing him the nodding off child next to me. He smiled, standing.

“I'm going to pay. Get him dressed.”

I had learned my lesson at the store not to dare attempt at arguing to pay.

While I maneuvered a sleepy Gus in his jacket, pulling the hat over his head, I saw Emmett getting dressed too.

“Don't argue. You'll need me.”

“You only want to tag along because of Drew. Besides, I'm not sure if it's okay.”

“Drew said it was.”

My phone rang, and it took skill to pull it from my pocket, while holding Gus in my arms.

Private caller.

“Hi!” I couldn't wait to hear Brian with good news.

“Justin, is Gus okay?” I could tell by his voice that something was wrong.

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but we ate at the diner.”

“It's okay. Listen, I have to go to Madrid.”

“What?” My mouth dried.

“I don't have any news about Lindsay or Melanie. You can ask Drew all the questions you have.”

“Do you think...?”

“I hope not. Hold on.” I could hear him talking outside the phone to someone. “I'm about to take off. Is Gus awake?”

“Barely. Let me see if he is awake enough to talk to you.” I bounced the little boy in my arms. “Hey, I have daddy on the phone.”

Gus burrowed his nose into my neck, mumbling unintelligibly.

“I guess he's too sleepy. I'll let him know you love him.”

“Thanks. I'll try calling from there, but I have no idea if we're allowed to use phones. I don't even know if we'll land in Spain.”

“But what the fuck happened?”

“Do they need a reason to mass kill people? Fine. I'm hanging up, Greg! I guess I'm taking orders too.” Brian chuckled a little.

“Let me know if you're okay. And if they're okay too,” I added.

“Later.”

Before I could return his standard farewell, I was met by the dial tone.

Drew returned. “Ready? You okay?” he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Is Gus too heavy? Want me to get him?”

I shook my head, the lump in my throat making it hard to talk.

“I think he talked to your boss on the phone,” Emmett explained.

“Oh, I see. What did Brian say?”

I bit on my lip, gulping thickly. “He's going to Madrid,” I choked out.

Drew paled. “Are they...dead?”

I shrugged, shaking my head, stifling a sob.

“What are you talking about?” Emmett watched us, scared.

“Didn't you hear about the attacks in Madrid? His mommies are there,” I whispered, nodding to Gus. “He doesn't know.”

“That's horrible.” Emmett wiped a tear from his eyes.

In the car, Emmett sat upfront with Drew, while I cuddled Gus in the backseat. All we could do was wait and pray everyone was safe.

At the manor, I took Gus to his room, changing him in his pajamas, before heading downstairs. Emmett and Drew were unpacking our grocery shopping.

“Drew, maybe you could show me where I can sleep. Ben didn't have time.”

“You could sleep in Brian's room. I bet he won't mind.”

“I don't know...”

“Let me check what rooms have clean bedding. Sally's husband, Frank, texted me earlier that he came to change the bedsheets.”

While Drew went to inspect the rooms, I put away the food on autopilot.

“It's going to be okay,” Emmett said softly, hugging me.

“You don't know that. I'm afraid to even look at the news on the Internet.”

Drew returned. “I'm afraid there are only three rooms cleaned, aside from Gus's. Brian's, ours—the security, and a guest bedroom. Emmett should have the guest bedroom. I'd give him Ben's bed, but I won't sleep and I don't want to keep him up if I'm on the phone. That leaves you with Brian's room.”

“Fine,” I said. “Where is it? I'm so tired.”

“Two doors down from Gus's room, on the left side.”

“Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Try to sleep.” I bid them goodnight, hugging Emmett and thanking him for insisting to come with us, before I headed upstairs.

I burrowed under the blanket, wishing Brian was there with us and not miles away, probably scared, searching for his friend, and solving country and world problems.

My last thoughts, before falling asleep were: Why did I have to fall for the President?

Three agonizingly long days had to pass before we had any news from Spain.

The television channels and internet websites weren't much help, and mostly they fueled the panic with horrifying news about the supposed attackers or number of victims.

I returned to Brian's room after putting Gus to bed and assuring him once again that his daddy and mommies will be back soon. He sensed something was wrong, and kept asking when he would see them again.

I killed time by sketching, until my cellphone rang from beside me. I accepted the call as fast as humanly possible.

“Hello?”

“Justin?”

To hear Brian's voice was such a relief. The sleepless nights and worried minutes spent waiting for any good news vanished in the blink of eye.

“Brian, I've been so worried! Is everything okay? We're keeping track of the news. Drew is constantly on call with your men. I'm trying to keep Gus calm, because he feels that something is wrong...”

“Justin,” Brian called loudly.

Realizing I was rambling, I shut up, embarrassed. “Yes?”

“It's not that I'm not happy to hear your voice, but what the fuck are you doing with Drew's phone?”

“What? This is mine...” I pulled the device away from my ear, and gasped. Shit. I didn't own such high tech phone. “Shit. I think we switched them when I went to give him something to eat earlier. He's barely left his room.”

“Could you please put Drew on the phone?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” I was already on my way downstairs, trying not to pout like a child.

“And Justin? Get your phone back, because after I hang up with Drew, I'm going to call you. I'd rather not greet my security with dirty talking,” Brian joked.

I giggled. “Sounds like a date. I'll give you Drew.” I entered Drew's room to find him munching on a sandwich, looking through my phone, smiling. “Permission to kill Drew, Brian?” I asked loudly and seriously.

“Why would you do that?” Brian asked confused.

“Sorry, kid. Your phone was too tempting.” Drew smiled apologetically, handing me back my phone. “Wait. That's my phone! Is that Brian you're talking to?”

“I'll leave you to talk to Drew. Later,” I said, giving Drew his phone back.

Once back in my room, I pulled up Whatsapp and wrote to Emmett.

Hey, Em. Just letting you know I talked to B. He's fine. Don't call, because I'm gonna talk to him soon. He's on the phone with Drew now.

Great news, baby! Know anything about Gussy’s mommies?

Nope. Will keep you posted.

I had to wait over an hour for Brian to call.

“Hello, stranger,” I cooed.

“Hello to you too.” Brian sighed heavily. “I hear Gus has been an angel.”

“You have no idea. Poor kid senses something’s wrong. I keep him distracted as much as I can.”

“I spoke to him a few minutes ago. Drew was kind enough to pass him the phone. Even though I’m tired as fuck, it kind of energized me to hear his voice. Now he’s in Drew’s room on a video conference with his moms.”

I chuckled. “I doubt there’s a conference, Brian. Speaking of his moms. Are they both okay?”

“Yeah, they were in the hotel when it happened. Lindsay had tried to contact me, but of course, it was impossible what with all communication channels being cut off.”

“Especially the ones directed to you.”

Brian laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t think of that. Anyway, I want to apologize from keeping you away from your life.”

“It’s not like I had anything else planned. Well, I might need Big and Bulky to protect me from our President. I had to do his portrait but I got stuck with his kid.”

“Don’t worry about the portrait right now. That’s the last thing on my mind.”

We lapsed in a few moments of silence, where I scrambled for something to say. I didn’t want the phone call to end.

“So what are you wearing?” I blurted out, eventually.

The only answer was Brian's heavy breathing.

“Okay, forget about my stupid question. When are you coming back? It’s not that I mind staying here with Gus and Drew, but it’s stupid…I miss you. Brian? I know. I’m an idiot. I don’t even know you. Actually, I think I know you better than you know me…not that I’m a stalker or something, but—”

“Justin! Christ! You can talk…”

“Sorry. I guess I’m nervous. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

“I figured. Let me answer your questions,” Brian said softly. “We’re returning tomorrow if everything goes well. But I have to go to Washington. I’ll send the girls over there, along with Ben.”

“Oh, what horrible holidays…”

“I’ve got so much to do. Cynthia, my secretary, blew up my email inbox. Duties over duties, and on top of that, I have to appear on a few TV shows to talk about Spain. I can’t postpone any of these, and I can’t have anyone else do it for me. Though, I might talk Schmidt into wishing the people the customary holiday greetings.”

“Is that part of his duties?” I had no idea what exactly the Vice President did, except being second to the president in command.

“If it’s not, it will be.” Brian laughed. He cleared his throat. “You mentioned what I’m wearing…well, I’m not. I finally found the time to take a bath.”

“And you’re naked?” I squeaked, hating the way my voice sounded.

“No, I’m bathing dressed, twat!”

“Is Big and Bulky waiting at the door with a fluffy towel?”

“Ben is in his room, doing probably the same. Keep talking so I don’t fall asleep. I don’t want to be the president found drowned in a bathtub in his hotel room in Spain.”

I laughed heartily. “Want me to talk dirty to you?”

“You know that as secure as this line may be, it’s listened by someone, right?”

“They’ll have a field day.”

“And I’ll have a horrible life if anything gets leaked. I’m going to see you soon, Justin. If you want to go home tomorrow when the girls arrive, please tell Drew to drive you.”

“I might do that. I don’t want to intrude in the family reunion.”

oOo

“Gus, chill,” Drew grunted from his spot at the kitchen table.

The kid was restless ever since he found out his mommies were coming back. He had woken me up at the crack of dawn and begged me to make cookies, then he was busy decorating them.

Drew and I relaxed while he was occupied with the cookies, but when he got bored of that, we decided to keep him entertained by setting up the tree. Drew had bought a big tree the other day, and as many decorations as he found.

At the moment, Gus was running around the house wrapped in tinsel, singing carols at the top of his little lungs. I totally understood Brian, and how he must have felt when the girls had dropped the kid off at the White House.

I was running after him, worried he might get tangled in the tinsel and fall.

We heard a car pulling up in front of the house, and Gus threw away the globe he was about to hang in the tree, before zooming to the front door and jumping up and down.

Drew joined us, unlocking and opening the door in time for me to see two elegant women stepping out of the Caddy. Ben had their bags at his feet.

“Moooommmyy! Maaammmaa!”

“GUS!” I shouted at the same time as Drew.

I snatched his jacket and scarf from the hanger by the door, and rushed after him, after stepping into my boots.

“Sweetheart,” the blonde woman said softly, hugging him tightly.

“Still a troublemaker,” the dark haired woman commented, throwing me a smile.

I returned her smile, kneeling beside Gus and handling him in the jacket. He wrapped his arms around my neck. “This is Jussy! He’s super cool! We painted lots!”

The blonde woman eyed me horrified. “I’m so sorry. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Oh please. He was an angel. Until he heard you were coming back. Then I got why Brian called him the devil’s spawn.” I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Shit. Sorry. That was rude.”

“No worries, hon. We live with him every day, so we know how he gets. I’m Lindsay, by the way. And this is my wife, Melanie.”

I shook their hands, before standing. On my way to the house, I bumped into Ben, who was carrying two heavy suitcases.

“Hello, Ben,” I greeted him, hoping it was okay.

“Sir.” He nodded.

“I told you to call me Justin,” I groaned. Drew was much more relaxed and easier to talk to than Ben.

While Gus had his reunion with his moms in the living room, I took Drew aside.

“Hey, do you think you can drop me off home? I don’t want to call a cab here…”

“You’re not leaving!”

“Yes, I am. Gus is back with his moms, who are safe. He no longer needs me. Besides, I have to work on that portrait for your boss,” I added, chuckling.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do it.” Drew nodded.

.

.

.

“You didn’t have to walk me inside,” I mumbled, unlocking my apartment door.

“You have these heavy bags. Boss would be mad at me if I didn’t take care of you.”

I chuckled nervously. “Yeah, he wants his portrait too much to let anything happen to the painter.”

Drew deposited the bags in the hallway, facing me. “You know there’s more than that. I've worked for Brian since his campaign started. I don’t know how much he told you about his private life, but let me tell you one thing, kiddo. He’s never been interested in anyone longer than one night.”

“I’m aware that this will end when the portrait is finished.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Drew winked.

I shook my head, not ready to get my hopes up. My eyes widened when we saw Emmett climbing down the stairs in only MY silk robe.

We stared at each other for a long minute, before Emmett barreled at me. “Baby! You’re home! You always told me I’m welcome if I need a roof above my head. It was terrible! My place was evacuated last night after the idiot above me set his apartment on fire.” He paused, finally spotting Drew, watching him concerned. “Drew! Well, isn’t this a surprise?”

“Are you okay, Em?” I wrapped an arm around him. “It must have been terrible. Why didn’t you call me?”

“It happened a short while after we exchanged those texts. You said you were expecting a call from Brian.”

“Fuck! You’re more important.” I shot Drew a look, when he snorted. “You know what I mean. Emmett could have been seriously hurt.”

“I’m fine, baby. It was like in the movies. A fireman rescued me and climbed me down the window.” Emmett grinned, fanning himself.

I smiled, despite the serious situation. “So your place is gone?”

“Sadly, the whole building is gone. My clothes!”

“Hush. We’ll get you new ones.” I rubbed his back, consolingly. 

“The important thing is that you are okay, Emmett. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” Drew said, looking between the two of us.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” Emmett looked disappointed.

“I have to exchange places with Ben, while he heads back to Washington.”

We said goodbye, before I locked up after Drew. Taking a big breath, I turned to Emmett, who was watching me amused.

“So I’m stuck with you?”

“It’s temporarily, until I get a hold of Michael. He’s not answering the phone. I hope he can host me in the spare bedroom until I sort out what I’m gonna do.”

“Good. It’s not that I don’t want you here, Em….but this place is…”

“Big enough for only one person, I know.” Emmett walked to the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee. You go take a shower, then you have to tell me all about your time with that cutie pie.”

“Gus or Drew?” I joked, heading up the stairs.

“Take your pick,” Emmett called loudly, making me laugh.

I felt terrible for arriving at Debbie’s half an hour later than I should have. Christmas dinner at her house was a tradition, and I had never been late before.

I totally blamed Brian. I was sucked into the portrait when I realized it was getting dark. A look at the clock had me frenzied.

Sadly, Emmett had gone to Debbie’s since morning to help her, and he wasn’t home to remind me, which resulted in me to rush.

The door opened. Michael narrowed his eyes, jerking his head for me to get inside.

“Some of us are hungry,” he said in greeting.

“I’m terribly sorry. I lost track of time.” I shrugged out of my jacket, hanging it by the door.

“Sunshine! At last! What kept you?” Debbie asked worried.

“I was busy painting.” I rubbed subconsciously at my paint dirty hands.

“You have a commission now? At Christmas?” She hugged me tightly, gently cleaning my cheek with her thumb. I must have had paint there too.

“Happy Christmas, Deb.” I kissed her cheek.

“Now we can eat,” Michael declared, taking his seat at the table.

I sat next to Emmett, across from Michael and his uncle Vic. Debbie sat at the head of the table.

“So new commission?” Deb asked.

“Yeah. You know I can’t talk about it,” I said, digging in my food. I was famished. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate, but it wasn’t something new. I always forgot about the world outside when I painted.

“Is it someone important?” Vic inquired.

“You have no idea,” Emmett answered, smirking.

I elbowed him, glaring. “Keep your big mouth shut!”

“You know? Why does he always know more than me?” Michael lamented.

I bit my lips to keep from saying something harsh, but the truth was that Emmett was a much better friend to me than Michael. We got along well, but I wouldn’t confide in him with such important things. Emmett, at least, knew when to shut up. Michael didn’t.

“Is it that man with the child you came with at the diner?” Debbie joined our conversation.

“Uh, Drew is the bodyguard…if you may. Please, stop asking questions,” I begged.

“We always find out, in the end,” Michael pointed out.

“And you will this time, too…if B—, if he allows it.” I pushed away my plate, losing my appetite. My stomach squirmed with nerves. I was always extra careful with keeping the identity of my clients hidden, but this time round, I had to be even more cautious. It drove me crazy.

The conversation switched to Emmett moving in with Michael, and I was grateful for the distraction. I picked at the food on my plate until my phone pinged on the table, next to me.

It was a new WhatsApp message from a number I didn’t know.

Happy Christmas, Painter Boy!

I didn’t have to be a genius to know who it was. I replied quickly.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Eagle! =)

A laughing emoticon popped up on the screen, soon followed by words. No one knows I got this pre-paid number. I’m a rebel.

I laughed, realizing what a big child Brian could be. Is there a chance for them to find out?

His reply came ten minutes later, in which I avoided eye-contact with my companions, especially Emmett, who kept smirking.

Speaking of sneakiness…Your number one fan nearly discovered my secret. =P

My number one fan? Are you talking about yourself at third person? Do you have multiple personalities, Mr. Eagle?

Don’t be a twat! Big and Burly paid me a visit. I had to stuff my new phone down in my pants.

I snorted, hoping I didn’t look like a lunatic to my friends.

Tsk, tsk. You’re slow, Mr. Eagle. Big and Bulky! Get your man’s nickname right.

Right. Bulky. I should remember that. I still want to see his face while using the nickname.

Hey! I have patent rights to it! I’ll sue!

There was no response after that, and I hoped I hadn’t crossed the line.

Sorry. You can use my nickname for your security.

Still no response. My heart slammed against my ribcage, making me think I ruined everything with my big mouth. I had no idea how to flirt.

Did I upset you?

It was a joke.

Only when we had dessert in front us, did Brian answer.

Painter Boy, let’s get something straight. I’m not one of your little friends who answers you promptly. You nearly made my dick hard while I had a debrief with Big & Bulky.

Just so you know, I might not answer promptly, but this is the number you’ll always be able to reach me.

I smiled at the two messages I got from Brian.

“Chatting with him?” Emmett leaned into my side.

I beamed at him, before focusing on my phone, typing back a message. Cute. I’ll keep that in mind. (btw…it’s not my fault you shove your phone down in your pants. There’s this great invention…pockets!)

Smart ass! I’ve got to go. If you aren’t busy in about an hour, turn on Fox News.

I won’t miss an opportunity to see you

I wasn’t sure where the courage to write that came from, but there was no going back once I hit sent.

The only proof that he read my words was the two blue check marks.

After eating more than humanly possible, we moved to the living room. Vic turned on the TV and left it on some Christmas movie.

I wasn’t below begging to change it to the news channel, even if they would eye me worried. I was never interested in watching the news.

I allowed Debbie to distract me with mindless conversation about my previous show, about what I planned to do in the near future, my New Year plans, the usual.

To my relief, the movie ended five minutes before the nine o’clock news. I slid closer to the remote controller, and when no one looked, I started flipping aimlessly through the channels, keeping a light conversation with Vic about the movie we had just watched.

When I reached Fox News, I made a show of dropping the controller. I knew from experience that the batteries always fell from their place and rolled under the sofa, when it happened. They didn’t disappoint.

While Michael groaned to being stuck watching the news, knowing no one intended to move off the sofa to search for the batteries, I gasped.

They were showing images from Madrid, and saying that soon, the President would join them to discuss the aftermath of the attack.

Emmett gave me a pointed look, which I ignored.

When the show began, I had to stifle my shock. Brian looked worn-out. I had seen him plenty of times to know when he looked tired, and now he looked downright ready to drop. The host introduced him, as if he needed any kind of introduction, before speaking briefly about Madrid, and asking Brian why he was called there when it clearly wasn’t safe.

Brian leaned his forearms on the desk, looking at the camera. Despite the dark circles under his eyes and tired look on his face, he looked the epitome of sexy. His hair was fixed, not a stray disrupting the neatness; the suit he was wearing was dark blue with green hues, making his hazel eyes even more beautiful, there was a light dust of hair on his jaw, making him look hotter than anything.

“Hello! First of all, let me say a few words. Despite the horrible news from Spain, I hope everyone has wonderful holidays with their families and friends.” He flashed his brilliant smile. “You asked about my trip to Madrid.”

I was curious what he was going to saying. It was part of his secret.

The host nodded. “Yes, Mr. President. Everyone is curious of why you went to a definitely not secure place.”

“As you must know, we have a wonderful relationship with Spain. Their Prime Minister was scheduled to visit us in January, but now he might not be able to leave his people. I had to be there to help a fellow country in need, and because of a more personal matter.”

“Personal? Do you mind me asking?”

I could see Brian's brows knitting in the middle of his forehead, as he contemplated the question. He glanced to the side, probably to one of his men, before focusing on the host. He was going to choose his words carefully, if he planned to reveal anything.

“As everyone knows, I have a child,” he started in an even tone. “His mother, a dear friend of mine, was gone to Madrid on a trip. I couldn’t very well try to solve the problem from here.”

“Oh, no! Is your friend all right?”

“Thankfully, yes. While there, I lent all the possible help to the Spanish government so they can catch the terrorists as fast as possible. We’re passing a dark time, and I hope that one day we’re going to be able to live without being afraid of some…maniac taking our life.”

I jumped out of my skin when Debbie laughed next to me. “Maniac! That’s sure gonna get him some reputation.”

It was true, that such language wasn’t probably acceptable for the president, but I knew he could say a lot worse. Maniac was to put it mildly.

Her comment spurred a string of answers from the others, while I tried to pay attention to Brian's words. Sadly, he was drowned out by Michael’s loud voice and Debbie’s even louder arguments.

I exchanged an irritated look with Emmett. He was closer to the TV, and came to my aid by upping the volume a little from the button on the flat screen’s side.

The show was wrapping up, sadly.

“On a lighter note, I suppose that now you are going to relax with your family?” the host asked.

Brian chuckled. “I sure hope so. Let’s pray nothing else is going to happen until the end of the year. Even I could use a break.”

I laughed, knowing how true his words were.

“He needs a break?” Michael snorted. “All he does is sit around in that fancy White House, showing his pretty face to us from time to time.”

“That’s so not true,” I snapped. I was vaguely aware of the host asking Brian about trying for a second mandate coming year, but I was too upset with Michael’s narrow-minded thinking to focus on the answer.

“Oh, he might have plans to run again! Did you hear that, Baby?” Emmett exclaimed.

“He did a lot of good for us,” Debbie said. “Especially for gay people. Kinney is really one of a kind.”

I smiled at her, gratefully. “Exactly! Who would have thought of us having the President on our side?”

“That’s it for tonight, folks. We had President Kinney as our guest. Thank you again, sir. Have peaceful holidays with your family.”

Brian smiled. “Thank you! Happy holidays, once again.”

The camera stayed on him as he got out of the chair, shook the host’s hand, before heading out of view. Commercials came on, and everyone started moving around me.

Michael shoved us from the couch so he could find the remote controller’s batteries. Vic went to get a second helping of dessert. Emmett excused himself to the bathroom. Debbie helped Michael in his quest for the batteries.

I went to the kitchen and slumped in a chair, pulling my phone out.

That was a nice speech. I’m curious if you wrote it yourself…and if the person proof-reading it had to change many curse words into something decent.

His reply came as I poured myself a glass of wine.

Ha ha! I have someone who writes my speeches. I’d never be so eloquent. Of course, in a live TV show, I have to improvise, but I always have some lines prepared.

‘Maniac’ was all you, I bet.

You caught that, uh? I couldn’t remember the name Sammy told me. Ben made sure to shout it at me when I joined him after the show. I was supposed to say ‘extremist’…fancy, huh?

Poor you! So now headed to spend some time with your family?

Yeah. We’re headed to my other residence…you’ve been there when we discussed the portrait. I can’t wait to spend some time with Gus.

I’ll be immersed in your portrait. I nearly missed family dinner because of you. I added an upset emoticon.

Sorry…not sorry.

“Why did you isolate yourself, Sunshine?” Debbie called for me. “Join us!”

I plopped next to her on the sofa, grinning.

“Who are you talking to? Did you get a boyfriend and didn’t tell me?” she wondered.

I shrugged, turning my eyes to my phone, when it buzzed in my hand.

If you need to refresh your memory, let me know.

I JUST saw you.

You know what I mean, Painter Boy. Just tell me the word, we’ll make it happen one way or another.

I couldn’t believe it. Brian wanted to spend more time with me. ME! I was virtually a needle in the haystack, but he wanted me.

After so much whiskey and the little pill Emmett insisted I tried, everything was beautiful. Babylon seemed sparklier than usual.

The music tonight was a mix of the best of nineties and two thousands dance songs.

“You have to stay hydrated, baby.” Emmett joined me in the middle of the dance floor, handing me a bottle of water.

I grinned, chugging down the contents, and after I sated my thirst, I dumped what was left in the bottle on my head.

I let the bottle fall from my hand, not really caring about it at the moment, before I wrapped my arms around Emmett’s neck.

“Dance with me!”

Emmett wasn’t one to decline a dance, so he accepted my offer. Two songs later, he was whisked away by some other guy.

I went to the bar for a refill. The bartender already knew what I wanted, pouring me a full shot glass of Beam.

“Cheers!” I saluted him, before downing the drink.

I remembered that we had come with Michael, but I had no idea where he was. Another drink later, I could care less about Michael’s whereabouts.

I returned to the dance floor, moving to the wild beat as I made my way to my favorite place – in the middle of the dancing queers.

A broad chest collided with my back, and I tilted my head to see a tall and lean guy. Urgh. He was the new sensation of the club. Brandon or something. I wasn’t going to become a notch on his bedpost.

“Sorry, buddy. You ain’t find what you’re looking for here,” I shouted over the loud music, dancing away.

I spotted a cute twink I had a while back, and decided to get reintroduced with his ass. He smiled widely when he saw me, following me to the backroom. That was the place where the action was – the best part about Babylon, in my opinion.

I took the guy’s hand, leading him toward the back, before pushing him against the wall.

“I missed you. This is the best present for the new year,” the guy exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes, putting a hand over his mouth, while I worked our pants open. “Quiet,” I said into his ear. After prepping him hastily, I stroked more lubed over my latex covered dick and dove into his ass. He was tight and felt amazing, but it was definitely the combination of alcohol and drugs that had me so horny. And definitely the constant teasing texts from someone I wanted to fuck me ten ways to next month.

This release was going to help me focus, and I deserved a break from everything.

It was New Year’s night, after all.

When I was done with twinkie, I left him to get dressed, heading back to the bar. Emmett and Michael were there, chatting over a cocktail. I cringed, not in the mood to talk.

“Are you all right, Justin? You look a little flushed,” Michael said, concerned.

I accepted my Beam from the bartender, before rolling my eyes at Michael. “Orgasms do that to me.”

Emmett choked on his drink. “I thought…”

“What? That I’ll wait around like a virginal boy until he comes to me? Please, Emmett.”

“What are you two….” Michael frowned, but his words were downed by a loud voice on the microphone, inviting everyone outside to celebrate midnight.

Downing my glass and slamming it to the counter, I made my way outside, away from my inquisitive friends.

A drag queen was sweet enough to offer me a whole bottle of cheap champagne. Unopened. Must be my lucky night.

I stayed toward the back of the alley, away from the crowd on Liberty Avenue. Crowds and loud noises still weren’t my friends. I wished I hadn’t been such an idiot and left my friends. They could be there for me in case I got hit by a panic attack.

As everyone started chanting the countdown, I clutched at my bottle of cheap bubbly wine, preparing myself for the fireworks.

I was so focused on the moment they would boom that I failed to noticed someone else’s presence in my hidden place. I even placed the bottle down, so I wouldn’t break it.

I still jumped when the fireworks started, cursing myself.

But I fell into the person’s arms when they spoke.

“Happy New Year, Justin!”

My heart was beating out of my chest as I stared at Brian, upside down. He helped me back on my feet, smiling.

“Brian!” I threw my arms around him. “Happy New Year!”

He leaned closer, searching my eyes, before devouring my mouth. I had missed him more than I was ready to admit. He pressed me against the wall, getting handsy, his lips latching on to my throat. I fisted his hair through the beanie he was sporting. It was probably part of his cover, but I didn’t care if we were seen, at the moment.

“Justin? Baby, are you okay? Tell me, you’re okay!” Emmett’s panicked voice came closer.

“Shit.” I pulled away from Brian, looking toward the figure approaching. Thankfully, he was alone.

When he noticed Brian, he stopped, looking between the two of us. “Oh. I see everything’s under control. Please do all of us a favor and take him home.”

“Emmett,” I hissed, embarrassed. He just acted like a parent.

“Friend of yours?” Brian asked in a tight voice.

“Don't you remember him from the gallery? Didn’t Drew tell you about Emmett? They sort of hit it off.” I giggled, enjoying the way I made Emmett blush.

“Oh, so you’re the one to blame for my suddenly air-headed security.”

Emmett shrugged, not regretting it. “I’ll let you two….” He walked backwards, showing me thumbs up.

“God, I’m sorry about him.”

“Are you okay, though? He sounded really concerned. And you were sort of hiding here when I saw you.”

“It’s a long story.” I looked around. “Where’s your car?”

Brian looked like a guilty child. “I’m incognito. I had Greg fly me here, then took a cab to your place. Of course, you weren’t there….then…” He gave me shy, small smile.

“The tracing device. I should hate you.”

“But you don’t.” He winked, kissing me softly.

It took me a full minute for his words to sink in. “Wait! Wait! Wait!” I pulled away from his insistent mouth. “You mean no one knows you’re in Pittsburgh?”

“Aside from the pilot and a marine sworn to silence who drove me to the airport…no.”

“Do you have a tracking device, too?”

“Obviously. By the time they figure out I’m missing…”

“The whole country will think someone abducted the President. I don’t want to go to jail, Brain! I don’t look good in orange.” I stared at him, scared. His plan was flawed. I admired his rebellious side, but not when he put me in danger too.

“Don’t be a twat! I’m with you. You’re safe.” He hugged me tightly.

I could see people returning inside Babylon, but I was rooted in our hidden spot, behind a dumpster.

“People won’t know you came to me….everyone will think I kidnapped you,” I moaned, hanging my head. “And all this now…when I started getting along with Big and Bulky.” I protested, making Brian laugh.

“So wanna head to your place and fuck? Or maybe you want to go back inside?”

“Are you completely insane, Brian? Everyone will recognize you! It will be like walking inside with a nuclear bomb in my arms and lying that it's not what it looks like.”

“You’re being melodramatic.” He took my hand, leading the way inside Babylon.

“Brian!” I tried to stop him, but he was restless.

He flashed the security man a blinding smile, making the poor guy take a double look at who walked into the club. I fished a fifty from my pocket, pushing it into his hand.

I was supposed to be the drunk and high one, not Brian. I caught up with him easily. He stood amazed, just outside the metal curtain.

“Wow! This place is fantastic!”

“Yup.” I hooked my arm around his, tugging him back. “But please…let’s go. People will notice. Chaos will ensure. I don’t want to be arrested.”

“Calm down, Painter Boy. The worse that can happen is me being shipped back home and being grounded. I can see Ben doing it.”

“Ben is scary,” I admitted.

“Let me enjoy my freedom before they come after me with the straight jacket.”

I sighed in defeat, allowing Brian to walk inside. We went to the bar, and no one had spared him a look so far. It was dark enough to not see faces well, the flashy lights made it hard to focus on features. Maybe we could be lucky enough to enjoy a drink and a dance without being discovered.

I waved to the bartender, showing him I wanted two of my favorite drink, before I looked around.

My eyes locked on Emmett’s, a few feet away.

He stopped mid-sentence, arms suspended in the air, making Michael look back at what had grabbed our friend’s attention.

“Your friends?” Brian whispered, accepting the drink.

“No….Don’t.”

He interlaced our fingers together, walking to Emmett and Michael. “Hello.”

Emmett choked on his spit, before starting to gasp for breath. Michael stared at Brian with his jaw unhinged.

“Justin…” he said dumbly, not taking his eyes off Brian. “This is the freaking President!”

“Shhhh!” I clamped a hand over his mouth. I glared at Brian, who was amused by the situation. “I told you this was a terrible idea.”

“What’s going on here?” Michael insisted. “You are the President, right?”

“Yes, I am. I thought I’d pay your friend here, a visit. He’s not a very nice host at the moment,” Brian joked, catching my eye.

“Sorry guys. We’re kinda rushed. I said one drink and one dance. Drink that so we can move on to dancing, before we’re outta here,” I demanded. “And Michael, please don’t run your big mouth. Emmett, it’s okay. Breathe deep.” I patted his arm, before leading Brian between the dancing queers.

I did my best to keep his face hidden between my hands as we kissed while we danced. It was everything I ever wanted, and never thought I would have. Dancing and making out with the President in the middle of Babylon. A story to tell my grandkids.

Three songs later, we left. We stopped for another drink, and I was well and truly drunk.

If it wasn’t for Brian’s quick reflexes, I would have spilled myself down the stairs. He pulled me into his arms, kissing me deeply. I moaned, dry-humping his leg.

“I live nearby.”

“I know.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around me.

We retrieved my forgotten bottle of faux champagne, opening it.

I felt safe in his embrace. Despite it being New Year’s night, there weren’t many people on the streets. As we walked to my building, it started snowing, and it was the most romantic thing ever. And we shared the bottle.

“Thank you,” Brian whispered, kissing my cheek, as we reached my building.

“Uh?” I frowned, noticing the Caddy parked half on the sidewalk. Shit. We had visitors.

“Tonight I felt normal for a few hours. Let’s face the music.”

We took the stairs.

“I wonder why they didn’t come after you in Babylon and chose to wait here.”

“I left my phone at your door. I feel like a child about to face the parents after doing a bad deed.” His tone indicated giddiness and wariness.

We stepped into my apartment. The door was broken, which made me angry.

Ben and Drew were pacing in the living room, talking on their phones.

Ben spotted us first. He hung up, approaching us like an angry lion, ready to strike. He kept his narrowed eyes on Brian, before turning to me when he reached us. He pushed me up into the nearest wall, hands on my throat.

“BEN,” Brian thundered, pushing him away. When I was released from the vice grip, Brian stroked my hair. His body was tense. “If you want to be angry at someone, be at me. I’d even let you punch me if it makes you feel better, but don’t you dare turn on Justin.”

Drew came closer, huffing. “What the hell was in your head, Kinney?”

“Exactly the same as it was in your head the other day when you were distracted by talking to Justin’s friend. You nearly ran that red light with me and Gus in the backseat. So don’t start pointing fingers.”

Drew looked down, but it seemed Ben wasn’t moved by any of it.

I wondered if he had a heart somewhere in there.

“So he calls you and you come to him without letting either of us know? How did you get here?”

“Greg flew me. And Justin didn’t call me. I wanted to be with him tonight. I missed him. It was a surprise,” Brian explained.

“I still don’t see why you didn’t tell me or Drew. We’d have come with you,” Ben yelled.

“That’s the problem, Ben. I didn’t want anyone with me. I wanted it to be just us. And I had the most incredible time I had in a long while, without worrying about anything, without you two breathing down my neck.”

“It’s our job to protect you, sir!”

“Ben’s right. We have a job—to protect you. Sadly, you can no longer be one of the people, Brian. You are the President,” Drew said quietly.

“We never had such sort of issues with you acting up until this man appeared in your life.” Ben glared at me.

I got some of my courage back, and took a step closer to Ben. “Listen up, Big and Bulky. Brian needs some time off. I bet you do, too. Everyone needs a break from whatever they do. I guess he discovered he can be himself and relax with me. So don’t you dare try to take it away from him!”

It was quiet for a long time. Ben blinked, staring at me down his nose, before he barked a loud laugh.

“Did you just call me Big and Bulky?”

I groaned, defeated. “That’s all you got from my speech?”

He glanced at Brian, sighing. “I’ll lay off your back, but we always have to know when you come to visit Justin. One of us can come with you.”

“I’d be glad to be the one you chose, sir,” Drew offered. “I promise to visit Emmett while you stay with Justin. Win-win.”

“Thanks, Drew.” I smiled, grateful.

“Okay, now get out of here. And don’t let the door hit you on your way out,” Brain muttered.

“What door?” I snorted. “They made sure to rip it off hinges.”

Ben went to put it back. It stayed shut, but it was clear I needed a new door.

“We’ll buy you a new door, Justin. Come on, Bruckner.” Drew pushed Ben out of my apartment.

I stomped to the kitchen, pulling the fridge’s door open, and snatching two bottles of water.

“I fucking hate Ben, did I mention that?”

Brian stepped behind me, rubbing my shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Did he hurt you?”

I gingerly touched my neck. “I’ll be fine.” I spun into his arms, resting my forehead against his shoulder. “It was too good to be true…our wonderful time at Babylon.”

Brian ran his hands over my back, kissing my head. “I’d rather remember that time, instead of what waited for us here.” He swallowed audibly. “I get it. I’m the most important person in the country. I can’t go missing without telling someone, but I missed you so fucking much. I thought I’d go crazy if I didn’t see you.”

I melted at his words. “I missed you too, Brian. Let me run ahead and cover your painting. I don’t want you to see it before it’s done.”

He nodded, opening a bottle of water.

A few minutes later, Brian joined me upstairs, smiling when his eyes fell on the bed. I blushed, taking my clothes off with shaky fingers.

I couldn’t get over the image before my eyes.

Brian Kinney – our President – lay sprawled naked on my bed, smoking. He watched me through lust-hooded eyelids, as I sat Indian style at the foot of my bed, sketchpad in hand.

Brian offered his cigarette to me, smiling. I accepted it, shading my drawing.

“Are you about done?” Brian asked, stretching and yawning.

“Almost. A few more minutes. I think you can move, since I’m mostly done.”

“Can I see?” Brian sat up and leaned forward, turning around until his head was on my lap. “Hi.” He grinned up at me.

“Hey.” I smiled back, dropping a kiss on his mouth, before placing the cigarette between his swollen lips.

While he finished the smoke, I finished my sketch.

“Ta-da!” I turned the sketchpad toward him, so he could see my rough drawing. It wasn’t my best work, but I had done it in half an hour, so I was proud of it.

Brian leaned over the edge of the bed, crushing the butt of the cigarette in the ashtray on the floor. Then he took the sketchpad, his eyes taking in every detail of the drawing. Then he fixed me with a look, I could read admiration and surprise in his eyes.

“So?” I chewed on my lower lip.

Brian placed the sketchpad away, so gently, as if afraid to ruin the drawing, before he faced me. “Wow! Justin…wow. Now, I can’t wait to see my portrait.” His eyes flitted to the covered easel.

“Not happening, Mr. President,” I teased, pushing him on his back and straddling his hips.

His hands came to rest on my thighs, before moving up to my chest, his thumbs flicking my nipples. I bit back a moan, bucking my hips, showing him how ready I was for another round.

He arched a brow. “Up for one more?”

I smiled broadly, feeling my cheeks heating. I lost count how many times we had fucked, but I couldn’t get enough of him.

“Wanna ride me?” One of his hands grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer, while his other hand found its way to the crack of my ass.

“I…Fuck…Yeah…Oh, fuck! Brian…” I shuddered above him, his touch making me shake as sparks of arousal flooded my veins.

“So responsive. Did I mention how hot you are?” Brian nipped at my bottom lip, two fingers stuffed in my ass. “Put it on me.”

I felt a condom foil being placed in my hand. With shaky fingers, I ripped it, then rolled the latex on his hard dick. I couldn’t get enough of touching him.

Brian batted my hand away playfully, slowly guiding his erection to my entrance.

I arched my back, anchoring myself with my hands on his knees, as he pushed inside. He was so big and I doubted I would ever get over the way it felt when he breached me the first time. As he found a rhythm, I slumped on top of him, pushing back, meeting his thrusts and moaning into his neck. When he arched his neck, exposing his throat to me, I latched on the skin available, making him moan like a slut.

The hand that wasn’t in my hair, wrapped around my dick. After that, it was a matter of minutes before I spilled between us, taking him with me.

“Fuck, Justin. I don’t ever want to leave your ass.”

I chuckled, lifelessly, allowing him to roll me on my back. I had grown used to being pushed away after fucking. Brian wasn’t into cuddling, and I secretly made it my mission to show him how wonderful cuddling could be.

“I can make you a replica, so you can stuff your dick in it at night and fall asleep like that.”

Brian turned his head to stare at me incredulously. I was busy laughing at my stupid idea, even imagining it, when Brian slid closer.

One of his hands stroked my cheek, his nose nuzzled mine. “If that’s what you want, it can be arranged.”

“What?” I breathed out, dumbly.

He kissed me sweetly, just below my nose. “How would you like to spend the night at the White House?”

“Pinch me. This isn’t real.”

He twisted my left nipple, making me cry out. “That real enough for you, twat?”

“You’re not…joking? What about everyone…what if people see?” I couldn’t believe what we were discussing.

“My employees know better than to run their mouths or point fingers. There are few that know my preference for dick, but it doesn’t matter. No one will say anything, Justin.”

“When I finish your portrait. I will bring it myself. You’ll like it so much, you’ll keep me overnight to thank me.” I winked.

“Then hurry up and finish it, Painter Boy.” Brian smacked my hip playfully, rolling out of the bed.

He went to the bathroom, leaving the door open.

There were a lot of things I was learning about him. Brian was not a prude. It was such a contrast to the image he had to show to the country, and how he actually was in real life.

I got under the blanket, my eyelids drooping, but I tried keeping them open until he returned. When I felt the bed dipping behind me and his slightly cold body flush against my back, I squeaked.

“Wanna warm me up, Painter Boy?” His dick was hardening. Impossible. He was some sort of superhuman.

“Again? Are you kidding me?” I groaned. “If you aren’t into somnophilia, then you should stop while you’re ahead.”

Brian laughed hotly against my neck, his arms wrapping around me. There was yet hope for him and learning how to cuddle.

“Fine. We’ll leave the next round for when we wake up.”

“Great,” I slurred, burrowing closer into his arms, as sleep took me.

oOo

I woke up alone.

I was deliciously sore all over.

The night before came back to me, and I couldn’t help but smile. Despite the little problem with his security, we had a wonderful time together.

When Emmett had moved in with Michael, he had stolen my silky robe, and I hated him for it. I was reduced to wrap the bedsheet around myself, as I went downstairs.

When I reached the living room, I could hear voices from the kitchen. Figuring it was one of his goonies, I went in there relaxed.

I froze in the doorway, nearly dropping the sheet.

Brian was leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, having an easy conversation with none other than my mother. She was seated at the table, a little tense, but keeping the polite conversation flowing. A real WASP, my mother.

“Mom,” I squeaked, feeling my legs shaking.

“Justin, honey!” She got up, hugging me tightly. “You have to stop giving me tiny heart attacks. When I rang the bell, I noticed the door was opened. I thought you were robbed. Or worse. Killed! Then as I made my way inside…I saw Mr. Kinney here descending from your room…in too little to call decent. When I realized who was in front of me … Though, he was kind enough to explain the situation, before I could faint from shock.”

And she could talk a storm.

“Yeah…I’m sure this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve walked on in here.”

She blushed. “No, it definitely doesn’t beat the time I found those guys butt naked in your living room.”

“They were my models, Mother! And they weren't naked, they had boxers on.” I threw Brian an embarrassed smile, shuffling closer.

He beamed, opening his arms for me to snuggle up. “Justin, honey,” he mocked mom’s words, making me step on his toes. “Had a good sleep?” he asked against my temple.

“Yeah. Sorry about her. I forgot about our tradition to start the New Year together.”

“I’m good at distracting people.” Brian shrugged, noncommittally. He leaned down, kissing me.

I felt eyes on us, and pulled away from Brian to find Mom watching us, surprised.

“How much did Brian tell you?” I asked, busying myself with pouring coffee in my mug.

“That he’s discovered your paintings a couple years ago, and decided to hire you to do his portrait.”

“That’s correct.”

She sat back down. “What I don’t understand…”

I sighed heavily. “Please don’t say what I think you want to say. I don’t sleep with my clients! Well…Brian's the only exception.”

“Brian?” She frowned. He waved at her, smiling around a sip of coffee. Her eyes widened. “You call the President on his name?”

I bit back a laugh. “Mom, I think I know him on a level that’s appropriate to call him on his given name.”

“That you do, Painter Boy.” Brian smirked, rubbing my arm.

Mom stared at us, blinking from time to time. I expected a lecture, but to my surprise, she took another sip from her coffee, before standing.

“I better leave. I expect you to call when you’re available. Molly misses you.”

“Sure. I’ll call you later.” Reluctantly, I left Brian's side, walking Mom out. “Tell Molly I love her and will see her soon.”

“Will do.” She nodded somberly. “You be careful. This is a lot of trouble…what you two are doing.”

“Mom…” I grabbed her elbow. “I hope it’s not necessary, but I’m still telling you. Don’t talk about this.”

She gave me a pointed look, like I was crazy, before leaving.

I returned to the kitchen. Brian was ransacking my cabinets for cookies.

Before I could ask how he felt about the impromptu visit of my mother’s, his phone rang. Mouth full of Oreo, he answered.

“Ben. Good morning!” Obviously, it didn’t sound at all like that, his words distorted. He swallowed, laughing. “No, you moron. Though, Painter Boy would probably like to gag me. I’m having breakfast.” He listened to whatever Ben was telling him, while I retrieved my mug. “No, I think that was pushed to the fifth. Cynthia told me so a few days ago.” He frowned, stuffing another biscuit in his mouth. “Tell Theodore to email me…” Pieces of biscuit flew from his mouth as he talked.

I tried not to laugh as he picked at the crumbs on his chest, while firing instructions to Ben. Then he started licking his fingers, his eyes meeting mine. They darkened, and I felt my dick waking up.

“Just email me everything. I’ve gotta go.” He hung up. “Someone’s naughty,” Brian drawled.

“I’m naughty? I’ve done nothing. You make eating Oreo downright pornographic.”

He laughed loudly, biting on a biscuit, leaning closer, nudging my lips with the other half of the biscuit. The chocolate goodness melted in my mouth, and then his tongue invaded my mouth and I had no idea if he was kissing me or running after pieces of Oreo. It was sexy as fuck.

This round started against the counter, with me sucking Brian off, and ended with me flat of my back on the kitchen table, legs spread in the air. Best fuck ever. Hands down.

We migrated to the couch, leaning into each other, basking in the afterglow.

Until his phone pinged. Then it pinged again. And again.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” I asked, drawing lazy circles on his leg from my position, half draped over his chest.

“Nah. It’s my email.”

“We’ll never get a quiet moment, huh?”

“It makes it more interesting…sneaking around.” He winked, kissing my forehead. “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he shouted when his phone rang from the kitchen.

I lounged on the sofa, half listening to him talking on the phone, half dozing off.

Dating the President was a full-time job.

Some time later, I felt his fingers combing through my hair.

I opened my eyes and found Brian dressed.

“Sadly, I have to go. I wanted to stay the night again, but it seems running the country is more important than plowing your ass.”

“Priorities, sir.” I giggled, mock-saluting him.

“Twat.” He kissed me softly. “I’ll text you later.”

I nodded sleepily, walking him to my broken door. “Can you have Big and Bulky do something about this? It’s seriously not safe.”

“I’ll have a talk to him.”

After another long and heated kiss, he was gone.

I puttered around, miserable, until I decided to do something productive and paint. The next time I checked my phone, the sun was going down. I had a dozen missed notifications from WhatsApp. Daphne. Molly. Eagle.

I opened the last thread, gasping at the influx of messages.

Hey, Painter Boy! I’m missing a sock. If you find it, please return it to its other half. =)

Funny story. Plane’s out of fuel.

For some unknown reason…you’re ignoring me. Are you still upset about the door? Big and Bulky will send a team to repair it first thing tomorrow morning.

Justin? You’re starting to worry me.

Don’t make me come back to check on you!

The last message was sent little over half an hour ago.

Hey, Eagle Man! I was painting. I get in my own little world when I do it. :*

Not a second later, at the top of the screen, I noticed that Eagle was typing.

You scared the shit out of me! I thought someone broke into your place considering the door isn’t closing. Don’t you ever do this again!

Sorry? What can I do so you’ll forgive me? Phone sex? Sexting?

Sexting? What’s that?

I laughed, nearly dropping the phone. I had gotten bolder around him, so I decided to show him what it was, instead of explaining.

I miss your big hard dick fucking me so deep I can still feel you inside me the next day. I’m touching myself thinking of your tongue on my nipples.

I had gone too far, but I was curious of his response.

Fuck, Justin! You can’t say things like this. I’m having a tea party with Gus at the moment.

Ooops? Let me know when you’re all alone in bed tonight. I promise to keep you entertained. ;)

There was no response. All I could think about was Brian having a tea party with his son – cutest thing ever.

Some hours later, after I met Daphne for dinner and was back home, ready to drop, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I was ready to ignore it, but hoped it was Brian.

You were saying something about dirty talking? Work your magic, Painter Boy.

At the beginning of February, I could proudly say I was done with the portrait.

It was my best work so far.

I called Steven in the afternoon, letting him know the President’s portrait was done. Surprisingly, he hadn’t pestered me with questions during the process, like he usually did. I emailed him a picture, knowing he wanted to see it, then told him that I would like to deliver it in person. Steven accepted my offer.

The upside of having my agent’s residence in Los Angeles was him not interfering with me interacting directly with the clients and delivering the painting myself.

While I heated some leftover lasagna from Debbie, I typed Brian a message.

You have some free time this upcoming weekend?

No

Aww…I’ve got something of yours =)

Did you find my sock? =))

Dork! No! It’s probably been abducted by the aliens. Guess again.

Hmm…your ass is mine…

Guess again…

I’m out of ideas =)

Here’s a hint: the reason we met.

Your talent?

You’re close.

The phone rang in my hand, as I opened the microwave oven’s door. It took skill not to drop the plate.

“Hey, Eagle,” I greeted him teasingly.

“You finished it,” Brian said exuberantly.

“Yep. It’s gorgeous. You should see it.”

“Hold on.” His muffled voice called for his secretary, and I heard him trying to clear his schedule for the entire weekend. Then he was telling someone to come get me. “I hope you don’t have plans tonight, because I sent Ben to get you.”

“Ugh. You know how much I love Ben.”

“Drew is still out of commission since he visited your friend and got the flu. I have him quarantined.”

“Poor guy.” I laughed. “Though, Emmett was really sick and he wanted Drew…It’s my fault for begging you to send him.”

“He’d have gone anyway. I’ve never seen Drew so smitten.”

“Same goes for Emmett,” I whispered. “Same goes for me,” I added.

“What? You’re smitten with my security?” he laughed, making me groan.

“I’m smitten with you, Mr. President,” I blurted out, turning red.

There was a long pause. I knew he didn’t do feelings, but I had to let him know how I felt. All my insecurities coming alive now that the painting was complete.

“I’m quite smitten with you, too,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you soon. Be nice to Ben.”

“If he is nice to me too,” I joked.

.

.

.

I wrapped up the portrait, getting it ready for the trip, before pulling my bag from the closet. Since this whole thing with Brian started, I had a bag prepared on stand-by. I never knew when I might end up with one of his goonies on my doorstep to whisk me away. It had happened a few times.

When the doorbell rang, I rushed to open, wondering with what Ben had traveled. About forty-five minutes had passed since I had talked to Brian.

It wasn’t Ben on my doorstep.

Michael had a huge smile on his face, clutching a letter.

“Hey, Mike. I’m in a bit of a rush…”

“You wouldn’t believe it! Do you remember that guy you made a painting for? He was some big director from Hollywood who promised us to turn our comic into a movie.”

“It’s water under the bridge…” I went back to my room, with him following.

“He contacted me, saying one of his friends who has a press company would help us revive the comic. Please tell me you want it.”

“Rage was a fantasy of mine…I doubt I can revive a fantasy.”

Michael pulled out of his pocket a rolled issue of our comic. “Look!” He pointed to the main character. “Who does he look like?”

“My fantasy guy?” I frowned.

Michael groaned. “He looks like President Kinney. Just look, Justin. Think about it…”

My eyes moved from Rage’s features to Michael’s pleading eyes. I could see what he meant, but Rage was a part of my life I had left behind once college ended.

“I have a career now…as a painter. I’ll have to talk to my agent about this, you know?” I asked.

I heard keys turning in the lock, making me insanely angry. I stormed down the stairs.

Ben was in my living room, spare keys in hand.

I snatched them from his hand, shaking them in his face. “These are Brian's! I doubt he gave them to you to sneak up on me.”

“Hello to you too, Mr. Taylor,” he said unperturbed. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was upstairs.”

Ben looked up, his eyes growing wide and his pupils getting slightly dilated.

I turned to see what grabbed his attention. Michael was coming down the stairs, comic book in hand, wearing his Batman t-shirt, and hair mussed up from running his fingers through it.

I side-eyed Ben, completely taken with Michael, then noticed Michael checking out Ben, as well.

To my complete shock, Ben smiled, offering Michael his hand. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. Ben Bruckner.”

“Mi-mich-ael Novotny.”

“A pleasure meeting you, sir.” Ben glanced my way, eyes narrowed. “Where did you keep him locked up?”

“Uh…?” I was too surprised to think coherently. Did everyone around Brian have to be gay? And Ben interested in little, mousy Michael? I leaned into the back of the couch for leverage.

They kept staring at each other like they were fucking without actually doing it.

I hated breaking the miracle of Ben showing he had a heart.

I walked closer, pinching his arm, making him yelp and glare at me. I smiled, pointing to my room upstairs. “Help me with the painting. Be careful! I’ll kill you slowly if you tear it.”

I was about to go after him and get my bag, when Michael stopped me. “Why are you surrounded by the hottest men?”

“You should ask Brian that. Ben’s his man. And he’s not usually so nice.”

Ben returned with my bag on his shoulder and the painting under his arm. “Ready, Mr. Taylor?”

“Yeah.” I pushed Michael out of my apartment. As I locked up, I was aware of them exchanging numbers.

Brian would probably kill me for turning his tough bear of a security man into a cute, little cub.

Outside, while Ben stored my things in the back of the Caddy, I turned to Michael, who was craning his neck to check Ben’s ass.

“Shoot me up with ideas for Rage. I’m not promising anything, but we can see if it goes anywhere.” I shrugged.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He squealed, hugging me.

“I have my moments. Now let me go, before Big and Bulky squishes me like a bug.”

Ben feigned hurt. “I’d never.”

I huffed. “Only because you respect Brian too much, or I’d have been long dead.”

He waved to Michael, getting behind the wheel.

I got in the passenger seat, throwing him a look. He refused to meet my eyes. It amused me to no end.

“Nerds are my weakness,” Ben admitted after a long while.

“I figured. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“We’re driving. So you have time to tell me all about Michael.”

It was going to be a long ride.

It was dark outside when we pulled in front of the White House. The lights in the front lawn made it look bigger and intimidating.

I had to get through the same process as the previous few times I had visited Brian. I allowed Ben to scan me and check my bag, before I followed him upstairs.

We went to the West side of the building. Many people were still there, milling the corridors.

Ben stopped a passing man, who looked just as intimidating as him. He could pass easily as Will Smith’s brother, bulkier, more intimidating, but you get the idea.

“Hey, Vance! Do you mind escorting Mr. Taylor to Mr. Kinney? He’s the painter.”

Vance’s frown left his face as he watched me curiously. I figured he knew about me, or maybe he was confused at why was a painter seeing the President.

“Of course, sir. Follow me, Mr. Taylor.” Vance spun around, and I had to keep up with his long legs.

At some point, we passed a stream of people. Some were on the phone, others had pads and pens in their hands, heading somewhere hurriedly.

Suddenly, Vance stopped after taking me through a set of doors. It was quieter in this part.

“Hello, Ms. Morrison. I’ve got Mr. Taylor. Mr. Bruckner said the President was expecting him.”

The curly-haired blonde woman stood from her desk, smiling. She was wearing a pale pink tailored skirt and a cream colored dress shirt, looking like she stepped out of some magazine.

“I’ll take it from here,” she said joyfully. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced on your previous visits.”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” I had no clue who she was.

“Oh, it feels like I already know you. I am Cynthia Morrison.”

My eyes widened. She was the hero who endured Brian on a day to day basis. “I’m Justin, but of course, you know that.”

She smiled, waving to a sofa. “Mr. Kinney is on a phone call. I’ll let you know when he can have you.” She went to a side door, prompting someone to bring beverages for a guest.

I was about to tell her that it wasn’t necessary, when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Did you take a detour to Alaska, Painter Boy?

I glanced at Cynthia, now sitting at her desk, clicking away. Why would she lie about Brian being busy?

I’m close… =)

Well hurry up and get your bubble butt here!

Are you busy? I had to know.

I can always make time for you. Now let me wrap up some things before you arrive.

I fidgeted on the sofa, understanding he was indeed busy.

The only other door leading outside the room I was in, opened and Brian appeared in the doorway. His shirt was rumpled, sleeves rolled up, and hair mussed up.

“If we want the element of surprise…you better get me Blake…last week!” He barked at his poor secretary.

I cleared my throat, making him look my way sharply.

His eyes widened, and his hand slipped from the door handle. “Well, if this isn’t a surprise!”

I went to him, stopping a good foot in front of him. He quirked a brow, grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer. “Blake. Now,” he snapped at Cynthia.

Once in his office, with the door tightly shut behind us, he kissed me briefly. It left me leaning into him.

“Cameras,” he whispered.

“We wouldn’t want another scandal around the President,” I joked.

“Don’t be a twat. Sit down. Whiskey at discretion. I hope to be done in half an hour tops.”

“If you’re busy…I can always…” I trailed off, unsure what I was suggesting.

“See if you fit under my desk? We said no to presidential scandal, Justin.”

I turned red. “I meant that—”

Cynthia barged into his office. “Mr. Schmidt will bring Mr. Wyzecki tomorrow.”

Brian frowned, stacking a pile of papers on his desk. “Do I want to know why you sent Schmidt after my Director of Communication?”

“He offered to get him yesterday when I mentioned you wanted to announce your...” She eyed me, clamping her mouth shut.

Brian rolled his eyes, leaning his ass against the desk, arms folded over his chest. “Justin knows I want to run again.” He caught my eye, grinning. “I’m going to make it official on Monday.”

“I still think it’s too late to announce it.” Cynthia held her head high as she talked. It showed that she didn’t take any bullshit from Brian.

“I’m the goddamn President. I can announce my candidature any time I damn well please!”

Once Cynthia was dismissed, Brian slumped in his leather chair, rubbing at his forehead. Then his eyes met mine, and a smile spread on his lips.

“Fuck it!” He stood, extending a hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

I slapped his hand, making him laugh.

We walked side by side toward his private bedroom, on the other side of the building. I did my best to ignore the stares and whispers.

Brian was stopped every few steps, checking things, chatting with various employees, signing on dotted lines. It felt like it took us a lifetime to reach his room.

Bruce was sitting guard at his door. His ears perked up when he heard us, then he waved his tail when he saw us, not moving an inch.

“Hey, buddy!” Brian crouched to pet his dog. “Sorry I didn’t have time for our walk earlier.” He scratched behind the dog’s ears.

“Do you think he wants out now?” I asked, joining them on the floor.

“Nah, someone took him out. I hope Ben brought your things to my room.” He winked at me, standing up.

Bruce was the first to get in the room when Brian opened the door.

“You allow him in here?” I asked, surprised.

“Sometimes. If you don’t want him, he can sit just fine outside my room.”

“Nah. I don’t mind him.” I petted Bruce, making him whine and loll his tongue out.

Brian unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off, and throwing it on a chair. “Give me a few minutes to freshen up. Careful with Bruce. Don’t overexcite him.”

I sat on the stool at the foot of the bed, fidgeting.

I had no idea what to do – I could unwrap the painting and wait for Brian to come out of the bathroom finding it on display, I could undress and surprise him with my naked bod on the bed, or I could sit there like a frozen virgin about to have his first time, staring at the bathroom door like it was a bomb ready to blow up.

Even Bruce gave up getting my attention after a while, heaving himself half under the stool, sighing dramatically.

Brian returned dressed in a silk bathrobe. He stared at me amused. “What's up?”

I dried my clammy hands on my jeans, offering him a small smile. “I want to show you the portrait.”

“And that has you acting like a spaz?” Brian chuckled, advancing until he was standing in front of me. “I love all your work, Justin.”

“But this is you! Your portrait,” I protested.

Brian went to the small table by the window where the portrait lay. He carefully peeled off the paper protecting it, then gasped.

I stood a little to the side, biting on my thumb, watching his eyes widening as he stared at my art. He brushed the back of his fingers to the canvas, soaking in the feeling, then he looked my way. I suddenly felt small and under the microscope with Brian's intense gaze on me.

“Justin,” he breathed out, returning his attention to the portrait. “Wow. I mean...I've never...”

Encouraged by his reaction, I teased, “Speechless, Mr. President?”

“God, I'm usually more eloquent. You have a special trait to make me lose my train of thought, Justin.” Brian stepped closer, cupping my cheek. “All your art is spectacular, but this portrait...it's simply beautiful.”

I shrugged modestly. “I had a perfect muse.” I reached out a hand to thread it through his hair. “You were an exemplar model, even when it was particularity hard to have you around to get down the details, but for that I spent endless hours on the internet, having the perfect excuse to drool over your photos.”

Brian laughed, hugging me tightly. “Thank you.” He kissed me long and hard, making me forget how to breathe. “You know what we never talked about?”

“Your kinks,” I replied without missing a beat.

Brian opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, before chuckling. “There's that, I agree. But I was aiming for the material part.” He pointed to his portrait, rubbing his fingers together to show me he meant payment.

“Oh! I thought you had that covered with Steve, my agent.”

“We only signed a contract. He told me that you choose the price at the end.”

I sighed, because it was true, but I usually talked with Steven about it. We had failed to talk much since he assigned me this job. “I'm not sure, Brian.”

“This looks pretty expensive, Mr. Taylor, so don't sell yourself cheap.” Brian narrowed his eyes, imagining I was going to say a small price.

“I can't tell you a price right now. Let me run it by Steven. He has to approve it.”

Brian fought a smile. “I already talked to him about this. He told me your usual charge for something like this.”

“Oh, my God!” I could feel my cheeks heating. “It sounds like you know the price. Look, as an example, the last portrait of something so small – head and shoulders – was around $1,500. Yours might be a little...What?” I pulled away when Brian furrowed his brows. “It's not too expensive, right? Shit. It is.”

“Justin!” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Why do you sell yourself so cheap? Damn. I'd pay ten thousand without blinking.”

“You'd...what?” My mouth was as dry as the desert. He surely was joking.

“Okay, I'll make you a deal. I'm not paying less that five thousand, so you better tell your boss that price.”

“But it's insane! The most I charged someone was three thousand and that was because Steven interfered when the man wanted a nude. It was this extravagant middle-aged man with a beer gut and hairy chest, all gross, but I sucked it up. Steven told him the price upfront for what he wanted, but not before checking with me if I would be okay painting something like that.”

Brian scowled. “I can only imagine.”

“It wasn't that bad. He kept fucking up the lower half of the portrait because he got hard, but at least he was decent looking down there if you get what I mean.” I winked, unsure how we got talking about the only commission I wanted to forget I ever did.

Brian dropped his hands to the hem of my shirt, pushing it up until his fingers were on my stomach. “That's wonderful news, Painter Boy. You do nudes.”

“Oh my....Brian! No way!”

“I remember I allowed you to sketch me on the New Year's night.”

“That was different.”

“We can do it off the record. I did tell you that I want to hire you as my painter. You didn't believe me.”

I pressed my forehead to his shoulder, shuddering when one of his wandering fingers brushed my nipples. “Steve will kill me.”

“He doesn't have to know.” He kissed my neck, tweaking my nipple. “Say yes, Painter Boy.”

“You can be very persuasive, Mr. President,” I whispered.

“That's my superpower.”

I laughed nervously. “Let me think about it.”

Brian undressed me slowly, kissing every newly uncovered part of my body. “Of course, there will be rewards, such as a reserved spot in that bed...” He nodded to his bed, quirking a brow. “You'll have someone to accompany you back home whenever you want...”

“Whoa! Back up! You want me to, like, move in? Are you absolutely nuts?”

“Is that any way to talk to your president?”

“When he's slightly crazy...sure.” I bit my lip, toying with the bathrobe's tie. “And there will be no payment.”

“Unless it is in sexual favors. You wanted to hear about my kinks,” Brian said against Justin's nipple, licking and sucking at the pebbled skin.

“What have I agreed to?”

“Nothing yet.” 

Unlike what Brian had promised, our weekend together was filled with Brian locked up in his office with the Director of Communication, Blake Wyzecki. He planned on announcing to the country that he wanted to be in the office for four more years.

I stayed out of his hair, spending my time with Drew, who was significantly better, the flu almost gone. He showed me various rooms in the house, I doubted I was allowed in, but it helped with the boredom.

On Saturday, I saw Brian exactly twice – in the morning, when we showered together, before he rushed to meet Blake; then we had a late lunch together, but he didn't stay for long, and he was distracted by his phone.

For dinner, Drew took me to a small restaurant, telling me about the amazing fish they served. Fish wasn't my favorite dish, but I had to admit, it tasted decent. We kept the small talk going, mostly him asking facts about Emmett, and in turn, I learned quite a lot about Brian.

He walked me back to Brian's room, knowing I would get lost otherwise.

I waited for Brian until my eyes closed. At some point, I thought I heard the door opening and closing, but I was too tired to check if Brian was indeed back.

Sunday brought dark clouds and heavy snow, which wasn't that terrible a sight for a first thing in the morning. Though, I was distracted by the warm body behind me.

I rolled around slowly, trying not to jostle the mattress too much. When I faced Brian, I was rewarded with a glorious sight.

Brian was lying flat on his back. His mouth was slightly open as he wheezed lightly in his slumber. One of his arms was bent under the pillow, the other was curled over his toned stomach. The blanket was bunched up on his right thigh, leaving little to imagination when half of his morning wood was on display.

I was torn between waking him up with a nice blow job, or sketching him. I opted for the second idea, knowing there would be other mornings when I could wake him up with my mouth servicing his dick.

Halfway through my drawing, Brian moved the hand from his stomach to his dick, stroking lazily. My brain nearly melted at the sight.

From my position at the foot of the bed, wrapped in half of the bedsheet, I hurried to sketch the voyeuristic display in front of me. Being engrossed in catching every detail, I failed to notice Brian's other hand searching for me next to him.

He startled me so badly, I yelped, when he shot up, looking around confused and utterly adorable. His eyes settled on me, then dropped to the pad clutched against my chest.

My heart was about to abandon my ribcage. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so scared.

“Working on your part of the deal, Painter Boy?”

His rough morning voice was going to be my undoing. They would have to put on my tombstone: Killed by the President's husky voice.

Brian sat on his knees, in all his glory, before crawling to me. Yup. He was set to kill me this morning.

He pried the sketchpad from my hands, sparing it a look, before placing it on the bench at the foot of the bed. Then he pounced and I found myself sliding off the bed, but my hips were on his lap. The idea of him fucking me in that position turned me on faster than anything else.

“Brace yourself,” he demanded, probing my hole with a finger.

I was grateful for the bed's poster, clutching at it with a hand, while the other was somewhere on the soft carpet. Of course, when Brian breached me, I excelled at a sort of hip bridge with both my hands firmly planted in the carpet and my hips arched off the bed. Only my legs stayed locked at the ankles behind Brian, who thankfully kept a strong hold on me.

He thrust into me restlessly. I moaned loudly when each time he managed to press into my spot. I needed a hand on my dick, but I was afraid to lose balance, besides, the sweet torture was so worth it. I loved being on the brink of orgasm, unable to reach it. And by the looks of it, Brian loved seeing me like that.

He took pity of me eventually, pulling me up so I was on his lap, limbs wrapped around him. I took charge, moving faster and fast, kissing him sloppily, my fingers clutching at his back. Brian moved one hand under my ass for leverage and one fisted in my hair. After that, I didn't need much more to find completion.

Falling apart in Brian's arms, seeing the blissed-out look on his face, made me realize how lucky I was and that I should cherish every moment I had with him.

I was still waiting for some dark force to pull me away from his haven and back to my dull life.

#

“Seven thousand should do it.”

I stared blankly at Steven. He had never thrown himself at such high amounts of money.

“You get all of it. The money is all yours.” He raised a brow in challenge.

I swallowed hard. “But it's a lot. I've never charged anyone so much. It's not even a full-body portrait.”

“If it were, we'd have charged double this amount.”

“Are you kidding me?” I hissed, not wanting to attract people's attention.

It was a small coffee shop where we met, so pretty much everything we talked could be heard by unwanted ears.

“Are you doing this because of who he is?” I added, before Steven could answer.

“Ah, don't get defensive. I know how you get attached to all your subjects….”

“Are you kidding me?” I repeated incredulously. “Look, Steve…I'm done. For good.”

“What's that supposed to mean? Should it scare me that I'm going to lose you, Taylor? Young, talented artists who want to make a name for themselves are everywhere. They only need an agent to guide them.”

“Maybe I don't need you anymore.”

“Why are you so cool and defensive suddenly? You never complained before,” Steven said, utterly confused.

“You never exaggerated so much with pricing one of my paintings.” I stood up, taking my paper cup of coffee. “I won't charge Brian such an insane amount of money only because he's the—” I clamped my mouth shut, furtively looking around. “Expect a lengthily email from me regarding me quitting this job.”

Steven reclined in the chair, eyeing me amused. “You do realize that if you quit now, you won't get a dime from this painting, right?”

I glared daggers. “I don't give a rat's ass about the money. But you're free to tell Brian about how much you want for the painting done by the artist who just quit working for you. Farewell, Steven.”

“Justin, wait!”

I was already crossing the street illegally, only to be far away from the asshole, so he didn't have a chance to catch up with me.

After the incredible weekend spent with Brian, I returned to my hellish life in shitty Pittsburgh. Steven was in town and he had arranged a meeting for us on Monday morning.

If he wanted to ruin my week, he had managed it brilliantly.

I stormed into the diner close to lunch rush hour, slumping at the counter, on a stool.

“Sunshine!” Debbie waved from near the kitchen, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” I called to her, pulling my phone out. I had no idea how to tell Brian what I had done, but he should know since Steven was going to contact him.

After telling Kiki to place the order for a burger and fries for me, I finally got the courage to tap the name Eagle.

I laughed at seeing our last conversation on the application. It was about Bruce and how he had attacked Brian, making him fall in the snow that now covered the White House's yard. There were even pictures of them on the media.

You should know that I am breaking it off…It's a long story. Let me know when you can talk.

I left it at that, deciding to give him all the details when he called.

“What's with the long face?” Debbie touched his shoulder, making him turn around in his stool.

“This day gets worse by the second.”

“We missed you this weekend. Michael told me some hot guy picked you up.” She winked.

“Ugh!” I covered my face with my hands. “I think Brian selected his people based on their sexual orientation. Ben, the one who thought from moment one that I was after Brian...like I was out to get him killed or something, turned into the biggest softy when he met your son. I had high expectations from Big and Bulky, but it seems that a look at Michael, and he's all ga-ga.”

Debbie laughed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You should have heard Michael! He couldn't stop talking about this man.”

“Hey, Deb! Is that TV still working?” One customer approached, interrupting our chat.

“Depends on what you want to watch,” she replied, challengingly.

“The President's speech. It's all over the internet that the President has to say something important regarding the elections from next year.”

“Oh, shit,” I gasped.

How could I forget the reason I had to share Brian with his Director of Communication throughout the weekend?

I helped Debbie set the TV. In less than half an hour, Brian was going to announce to America he wanted to be their President again.

I sat next to the small TV, eating my food, with Debbie hovering. I ignored her, since it wasn't my place to say anything. She would hear it from the man himself soon.

My phone vibrated next to my plate. I unlocked it quickly, and choked on my fries.

Why are we breaking up through a text? Don't I deserve more? Is it because I'm running again? :(

“Fuck! Fuck, no!” He thought I meant breaking up with him. I was such an idiot for omitting to say Steven's name. “Can I use the back exit?” I asked Debbie.

When she nodded, I was already dialing his number, running for the exit to have some quiet and privacy.

“Pick up, pick up, pick—” Click. “Brian! I was talking about St—”

“The number you are trying to reach doesn't exist.”

My legs gave away.

I was the worst.

Brian was going to change his mind about running as President again, because he thought I didn't agree. How could he? I had praised his choice at every turn since I found out.

But why shut his phone?

Why did the number not exist?

“Sunshine, it's starting.” Debbie's voice from the door leading to the alley, pulled me from my panic attack. “Everything okay?”

“Not sure,” I mumbled, following her inside.

I took my seat by the TV. There was already live footage from the porch in front of the White House.

Brian was having a heated conversation with Ben and Drew. Then Blake pulled him aside away from the camera's view. I kept my eyes on his bodyguards. Drew was on the phone, and Ben was looking toward the spot Brian had disappeared.

Ten minutes later, he approached the stand. He was wearing one of his dark suits and a beige coat over it. The whole speech was a loud buzzing to my ears, but judging by the gasps around me, Brian had kept his promise. He announced the world that he was running again.

A hand grabbed my elbow, pulling me out of the diner. Emmett was glaring at me, his phone gripped in his hand.

“How fucking stupid are you?”

Oh, figures. Brian confessed in Drew, and Drew called Emmett.

“Justin, you're both such...idiots!” He lifted his phone to his ear. “I have him here. Whenever he can talk, I can pass the phone to Justin.”

“Maybe I don't want to talk to him?” It was a big lie, but I was upset for being shut down before I could explain myself.

We sat on the cold, rainbow colored bench in front of the diner for another fifteen minutes. Then Emmett put his phone in my hand, going inside for hot cocoa.

“Justin?” Brian's strained voice came from the other end of the line.

“No, Santa Claus. Why did you shut your phone? It was a matter of miscommunication!”

“I didn't shut my phone. Ben caught me sending you that last text message. He broke it into pieces, giving me a speech that could conquer my old man's speech when he said I wouldn't get anywhere in life.”

I snorted. “The joke's on him.” I decided to question him about his family another time, because he never talked about them.

“So what were you saying about breaking up?”

“Not us. Oh, you're so considerate and wonderful,” I told Emmett when he brought me a mug of hot cocoa. “Right. That was for Emmett. As for my vague text, I meant that I'm going to quit working for Steven. Whenever I get home later today, I'll write my resignation letter. If he contacts you about an exorbitant amount of money for the portrait...don't give in.”

“We talked about this, Justin.”

“The money won't get to me since I'm quitting. It's up to you if you want to give him seven thousand or not. And if you want to give the money to me, you better accept rejection.”

“But Justin…I won't pay him for someone who isn't working for him, but I will pay someone who poured months of his life into a portrait.”

“I don't really care about the money, Brian. I ended up with something much better out of this – you.” I smiled, hugging the mug of hot cocoa to my chest. “And I'm aware we'll face many ups and downs, but I'm ready to face them together.”

“We're already facing one – our method of communication has been discovered. Though, I confirmed it with Ben that we can use the email.”

“I'll text Drew my email, but make sure to delete it after you save it for yourself,” I said seriously.

“Perfect. I will say talk to you soon, but I don't want to lie. Look, I'm headed for a small press conference. Why did I do this to myself?”

“Because you're the best,” I cheered, making him laugh.

justin.taylor17@gmail.com – use it wisely.

It had been a month since I last heard from Brian.

After quitting to work for Steven, I took Michael up for re-branding Rage. We were still brainstorming for the first new issue of the sequel, but none of our ideas led to an eventual plot that would catch the audience's attention.

I was in the middle of the bed, looking over the old issues of Rage, I had pulled from Mom's attic. We had left it to a point where anything could happen. Rage and JT were getting married, which was something alien back in the day. Now it was a reality.

Michael had found his old notes on possible future scenarios, but I didn't want to bring a villain from the first new issue.

So far we had three main ideas: villain disrupting their serenity, JT and Rage still going strong and being happy, or them having been driven apart by unknown events.

I hated all the ideas.

I needed a break from all the thinking, because I could feel my brain hurting.

My salvation came from a new email. When I first noticed there was an unread email, I almost shut the laptop, fearing it was Michael with more silly ideas. But fearfully, I clicked on the tab, and gasped when I saw the email address and subject.

B-Kinney (bkinney@gmail.com)  
Subject: Hello Painter Boy

I clicked on the subject line, opening the email.

From: B-Kinney
To: Justin Taylor
Date: March 29

Hello Justin!

It's been insane around here. I bet you already know the domino that followed my speech that day. I'm slowly losing my mind.

I finally had a few days off and spent them locked in Lindsay's house. But I got to stay with my little man, so that's a plus.

How are you? I miss our constant message exchanging.

Did you find another agent? Are you busy working?

Let me know.

Brian

I smiled at seeing his email, and I had to read it three times before I clicked the reply button.

From: Justin Taylor
To: B-Kinney
Date: March 29

Brian!!!

I guess I'm at advantage for seeing you often on the TV or on the internet. I can tell you're tired. It must be tough to get everything ready for such a big deal.

I'm glad to hear you got to spend some time with your son. I bet he missed you a lot.

As for me…not much to say. No, I haven't tried finding a new agent. I've done one small commission for an old client, who contacted me directly.

Michael gave me an idea about reviving a comic book we had worked on together when I was in college. Rage. Not sure if you heard of it, or even if comic books are your thing.

If by asking whether I'm free or not, you want to send one of your goonies to get me, my answer is YES, PLEASE! Rescue me from my own head.

Besides, I miss you like crazy. There. I wrote it. All shreds of dignity gone.

Justin

I hit refresh for five minutes straight with no remorse after sending that email.

From: B-Kinney
To: Justin Taylor
Date: March 29

Hearing you are free is all I wanted to know.

How soon can you get ready? I have a surprise for you.

Brian

From: Justin Taylor
To: B-Kinney
Date: March 29

In less than an hour...exactly the amount of time your men need to get here.

Justin

I sent the email, then jumped out of the bed. I pulled my empty travel bag from under the bed, and was headed to the closet when the doorbell rang.

“Not now,” I moaned in protest. I wasn't ready for any of my friends.

I rushed downstairs, unlocking the door and pulling it open. I gasped, jumping up, clapping, then throwing myself at Brian.

He was fighting amusement, but I blamed my behavior on how much I had missed him.

“This is the best surprise, Brian!” I kissed him hungrily, still hugging him. I was afraid to let go.

He walked us backwards into my condo, shutting the door with his foot.

Clothes flew in all directions, and we christened the entry hallway. Brian fucked me like I was the last drop of water in the desert, but I was right there, meeting him thrust for thrust. Our mouths clashed, muffling the way we cried out each other’s names.

“Never again for so long,” I gasped later as we slid down the wall.

“If you agree to my suggestion, you'll get sick of me soon,” he said quietly.

“I remember you mentioning me moving in. I'm still saying you're crazy.”

Brian searched in his abandoned pants, coming out with a rectangular something. “I believe you don't have a passport, so I pulled in some strings…and with a little help from your friends…Voila!”

I took the passport from him with shaky hands. “You…Brian! Seriously?”

“You're welcome. Let me help you pack. I'm going to show you the world.”

“Taking a break from being the President? Is that a thing?” I laughed uneasily.

“I've got about five to six weeks of traveling ahead of me. I'd go crazy without you. Please come with me.”

“As what? Brian…Don't make any hasty decisions. Think with your brain, not your heart, or worse, your dick. I'll still be here when you come back.”

“Justin, this past month has been hell. Not being able to talk to you, misplacing the paper I wrote your email on, virtually no time to steal Drew's phone and call Emmett to get you on the line…You have no idea how I felt.” It was then when I realized that seeing Brian so vulnerable and open and almost desperate meant only one thing – I wasn't the only one falling.

“What am I packing?” I snatched my boxers on.

“A few changes of clothes. We're buying on the road.”

“Cool. I got myself a sugar daddy.”

Brian slapped my ass, as he followed me upstairs. “I'm your sugar POTUS.”

I burst out laughing, headed to my closet. I was almost done when Brian cleared his throat.

I turned to see him looking through one of the issues on the bed. For unknown reasons, I was embarrassed knowing he was looking at something I had done when I was nineteen.

“This is graphic and raw and…the reality. I like the technique and the coloring,” he commented, not looking up from the issue in his hand.

“Uh, thanks?”

When he finally met my eyes, he raised a brow. “This is the Rage you've been talking about?”

“Yeah. Forget that. I'm done.”

Brian collected all the issues from the bed, tucking them under his arm, then he took my hand. “Light reading during the plane ride across the ocean.”

I made sure all appliances were unplugged, the knobs of the faucets were closed, the stove was off, then I locked three times, and was ready for this new adventure.

Outside, Ben was leaning against the hood of the Caddy. He held his hand up, stopping us before we could step out of the building.

“Shit.” Brian tugged the hood over his head, scowling at me, before leading me out.

Sure enough, there was a large group of people coming our way.

I allowed Brian to get in the car first, while I handed Ben my bags to stack in the trunk. When I joined Brian, he had the hood down and was reading the first issue of Rage.

It wasn't that I was ashamed, but that was a huge part of my life. A part of my past no one knew about, except my closest friends.

I pulled my phone out, but stopped typing Emmett a message.

“Does Emmett know about this? I was about to text him, but…”

“He's aware we're leaving. He made plans with Drew to meet when we visit Paris. Always the romantic.” Brian rolled his eyes.

“I see.”

I focused on my phone, typing to Emmett, then Daphne, and lastly to Michael. He would scalp me when he found out I was leaving when we were working on Rage.

“This is a horrible story,” Brian said after some time. “How the hell did you come up with this morbid scenario?”

“Michael wrote the lines. I tweaked with them only. All the drawings are mine,” I explained, feeling slightly hurt at him saying the story was horrible.

“Then Michael has a twisted mind,” Brian concluded, ignoring the way Ben glared at him in the rearview mirror.

“It’s based on a true story,” I admitted in a small voice, feeling incredibly small and vulnerable. When Brian looked my way, I shrunk into the door, not meeting his eyes. “It's my story.”

“We got that settled. You both worked on this.”

I groaned. “I'm JT. Rage was the angel I saw during my coma. He saved me.”

“What?” Brian drawled the word, sliding closer. “Did someone hurt you? Bashed you?”

I closed my eyes, suddenly unable to breathe. I pushed Brian away, but he wouldn't budge. With jelly fingers I tried getting the window down, but found out it was impossible to do it in my condition.

“Air,” I gasped, bending over.

I was aware Brian was talking to Ben in hurried whispers, then a rush of air hit me as the window rolled down slightly. Brian held me tightly, stroking my hair.

“I'm so sorry for bringing this up,” he whispered. “I had no idea.”

I sagged into his side, still not confident enough I could talk. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would start screaming or sobbing uncontrollably.

“You're okay now. You're safe,” Brian said into my ear, kissing my neck. “No one will hurt you again.”

It was lie.

He couldn't know that, or make such a promise, but his presence and soothing words calmed me enough.

.

.

.

At the airport, I nearly had a heart attack when I realized we weren't using the small jet plane I knew so well. We were going to travel in Air Force One.

I was handed a security man's jacket to blend in. Ben instructed me to walk and act normally, because there were other security men around who didn't know about my existence and wouldn't hesitate to put me down.

I was near the ladder when Drew intercepted me. He nodded curtly, jerking his chin toward the plane. I got the memo that I had to go inside on my own.

I was halfway through the stairs when I looked back down and saw Brian near Ben, looking tall and intimidating even in casual jeans and a gray hoodie.

Inside the plane, I felt lost.

All the movies I had seen regarding this very plane didn't prepare me for the enormity that was Air Force One.

I had no idea where I would stay or if Brian wanted me close to him, but my confusion turned to panic when an agent dressed in a suit approached me, asking for my badge. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

It didn't take a genius to understand I shouldn't be there.

The man looked to the side, then two big security men had me against a wall, asking how I got through the cordon of police. One of them was saying something in his sleeve that sounded like they were going to keep Brian away because of a security breach.

“Release him,” Brian's cold voice demanded from a foot away.

The big guys stepped away immediately, looking confused and suspicious.

It was then that I realized most of the staff was already on the plane. All his people were there, including Ben to Brian's right side, a hand on his gun hostler, and Drew on the other side with his gun out.

“It's okay, guys.” Brian patted their backs. He came to me, touching my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Your people have no manners,” I joked, because what the hell could I say.

Brian sketched a smile, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me close. He looked at everyone around us.

“Let's have one thing clear: from now on – no one attacks Justin again, or you'll answer to me. Before you all start asking…” Brian stopped, clearing his throat. I gasped, realizing what he was about to do, and I couldn't do anything to stop him. He was coming out to his staff. “This is Justin Taylor, the painter who stole my heart. You better treat him as you treat me, if you value your job.” Brian guided me toward what I believed to be his room.

“It's not much, after all this is a plane.”

I stared in awe at the bedroom, before turning to face Brian. “I'm actually speechless at everything that happened.”

He reached to stroke my cheek. “Oh, don't remind me. I told Drew to come in with you, knowing something like this would happen. Did he listen? No.”

“Please, don't be mad at Drew. He's a great guy. And your security men attacking me…I see where they're coming from, but you…Oh, God! You came out, Brian!”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Most of them already knew I am gay. They weren't expecting to see someone able to put up with me enough to join us on this trip.”

Before I could reply, there was a knock on the door.

Brian opened it abruptly, eyes narrowed at the woman in front of him.

“We're taking off in fifteen minutes, sir.”

“Right. Thanks for letting me know.”

She hovered, and I could see Brian growing annoyed. “Anything to drink for you and… ?” I could see her hand waving to me.

“We'll let you know after take off.” He shut the door in her face. “Damn it!”

“Is this how you treat your staff?” I laughed, shrugging out of the jacket. It was like one hundred degrees hot on the plane.

“If you need the bathroom, it's through that door. I'll be…You know what? I'll wait for you.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, gratefully, rushing to the bathroom.

The leather seat was so comfortable, I slept better than in my bed. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was Brian in the seat across from me. He had my comic book on his chest, dozing off, with his feet up on the seat next to me.

I took the bottle of juice Mary, the woman from before, had brought me after taking off. After a few sips, I decided to get up and stretch.

Of what I could see out the small window, we were somewhere across the ocean and it was dark.

I stepped over Brian's stretched feet, deciding to take a left. It was wise, because to the right it looked like I was returning to the front of the plane. Of what Brian had mentioned, the security was next to the guest section, where we were sitting.

“Hi.”

I jumped, startled at the word being addressed to me. It was the big guy from the White House, the one who looked like Will Smith. “Hello.”

“Did you get lost?” He quirked a brow, checking his phone, then typing something, before his eyes bore into mine.

“Uh, not really,” I mumbled. “I was looking for Drew?”

“Through this door.” He pointed behind him, before accepting a call, and heading to the front of the plane.

I stared after him, before shaking my head and knocking on the door he had pointed. It opened a moment later by Ben.

“Ah, the little troublemaker.” He ushered me inside.

“What? Oh...uh...hello.” There were at least ten secret agents. They barely acknowledged me, which I had no idea how to take.

“Grab a seat.” Ben pointed to three vacant seats.

I shook my head. “Can we talk outside a little? I was looking for Drew, but you'll do.”

Ben huffed, guiding me outside and through a door on the other side of the stairs in front of us. “Talk.”

“Look, I have no idea what I'm doing, how to act, what is expected of me...what they think of me...”

“Justin, what happened earlier was a terrible misunderstanding.”

“Where's Drew? Tell me that Brian didn't punish him.” I didn't want anything like that to happen to Drew because of me.

“He's with the pilots, or that was the last thing I know of his whereabouts. Brian will let it slide eventually, but you must realize that he cares a lot about you and your safety.”

“Which brings me back to what the hell is going on? How do I fit in?” I waved around. “I don't want to jeopardize anything. If Brian takes more rushed decisions about me, regarding me…I'm afraid of what he'll do next.”

“If you think that he's going to come out to the world, you don't know him, Justin. He told his staff what they already knew, but he did it so they'd know to never cross you.” Ben sat in one of the leather seats, patting the one next to him. “As for the countries we're going to visit and what role your presence will play – that's something to talk to Brian. I found out what he wanted to do when we pulled up in front of your apartment.”

“I'll be totally fine left unattended. I doubt I can get in trouble. I'll be like any tourist,” I said quietly.

Ben cupped my shoulder, looking at me seriously. “You're dating the President of United States, Justin. You can't blend in. You can't do anything normal ever again. If Brian accepts the idea of you roaming the streets of the cities we visit, it will be with a Secret Agent beside you.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it quickly, realizing he had a point. “Can it be one of you two?”

“Sadly, no. I'm the Head of Security, and I usually stay close to Brian. Drew is the next best man in the security department. I bet Brian will make you choose someone from the department. And whatever you do, stay low key and be careful what you say to anyone.”

I nodded. I already knew all this without even being told. It kind of went with dating the President as Ben had said. There were unwritten rules.

“BEN! Have you…Justin! You disappeared,” Brian said accusatory from the doorway.

“I decided to test the parachutes.” I laughed, but stopped abruptly when they stiffened. “What? It was a joke. Have you seen the movies around this plane? People always end up leaving through the escape pod and using the parachutes.”

Brian nodded to Ben, before steering me back to the room next to the security. “You see, Justin…Despite what those movies portray…there's no escape pod or parachutes on Air Force One.”

I stared out the small window in horror. “That's a joke,” I laughed uneasily. “Tell me, you just joked.”

“Sadly, no. This is supposed to be the safest plane ever to be made.”

“And so was Titanic supposed to be the best ship of her time! She sank during the first trip.”

Brian laughed, sitting down and pulling me on his lap. “It's going to be okay. I'm here.” He kissed me slowly. “What were you and Ben talking about?”

I shifted until I sat across his lap, my feet dangling over the edge of the armrest. “Well, we were discussing the possibility of me visiting the cities we will be in as a sort of normal tourist. Ben said you'd feel comfortable if I had a Secret Agent with me.”

“Is this what you want? I know I can't visit without being surrounded by agents. I won't subject you to that, so one guy will do. Is there anyone you'd like in particular?” He threaded his fingers through my hair. “Wait. You haven't even met them. We'll have a meeting with them soon.”

“I was going to ask for Drew, but he's your best man—”

“He's all yours. It should serve him right to be stuck with a brat instead of me.”

“Hey!” I mock punched him in the shoulder. Brian pulled me closer, kissing me softly.

“Mr. President—I apologize, sir.”

Brian looked toward the door where the Will Smith's bulkier brother was standing awkwardly. “Will, what?” Brian demanded, when the man kept staring at us.

I snorted, covering my mouth with both hands. “For real? His name is Will?”

Will frowned, meeting Brian's eyes, silently judging the President's choice in men.

“It's just that you look a lot like Will Smith. Well, taller and more muscular. You get what I mean,” I babbled, realizing I sounded like a tool.

Will smiled brightly – the first smile I had seen at him. “Can't say he has bad taste in men, sir.”

Brian chuckled, stroking my leg. “Well, he's with me. Now, why are you here?”

“Right. Joe and I worked on the security plan for the trip. When you have some time, we're in your office.”

“Tell everyone to be there in ten.” Brian let his head fall back against the seat, closing his eyes after Will left. “Never a quiet moment.”

I patted his chest, getting up. “You go do your thing. I'll try to find your suite and take a nap.”

“You're coming with me. Then we'll have something to eat, and then we'll nap together. Sound good?” Brian stood, stretching and revealing a silver of skin, making me want to lick it. “I wouldn't drag you into this meeting, but as you pointed out earlier, you'll need someone around too.”

.

.

.

Brian’s office was a conference room actually. There was the security detail on a side of the table, and on the other side sat the Vice President, the Chief of Staff, the Communication Director, and a few others I had never seen in my life.

There was an empty chair at the head of the table near his staff. On the other head of the table was Ben.

Brian kicked his foot in the Vice President’s chair. Schmidt got up and everyone to his left moved a chair to their left so his previous seat would be mine. I seriously hated all this.

Brian sat in his chair, pulling the files on the table closer to him. He looked through them, while I slouched in my seat, wishing I could become invisible. Everyone was goggling at me.

“What’s this about? You couldn't find a hotel in Madrid to accept Bruce?”

That was a surprise. I had no idea we had Bruce with us.

“There were changes made in the legislation and administration,” a woman dressed in white suit pants said in a small voice.

“There has never been such a problem. You better solve this issue, or there will be consequences.” Brian sifted through the files. “Why are we a day short in Paris?”

“As you may be aware the president’s wife has some health problems. We discussed this and figured that after the official meeting, we could move forward with the trip.”

Brian extended his hand and a pen was pressed into his hand. I was surprised at how in-tune he was with his people and how changed he was. I already knew how professional he could be, but from the lovable man I knew to this ruthless man…wow.

“We’re staying the extra day in Paris. I want the day cleared of any obligations.”

All the eyes turned on me, and I squirmed.

Brian caught my eye, then he looked toward the security detail. “Drew, I want you with Justin all the time.”

Drew chose to nod, instead of arguing.

“Will, you’ll stay with Theodore.”

I tuned Brian out as he appointed each secret agent to someone on his staff. I tried to visualize my future during this trip. At least, I would have Drew with me, and not some stranger.

Brian shot a few more directions, complained about some points on the files, then dismissed everyone. He told Ben to inform Mary that we would dine in his bedroom, then he led me away from the conference room.

Outside the room, a mousy man stopped Brian. “I won’t take a lot of your time, sir.”

“What’s up, Rick?”

“When would it be a good time to have a short article ready for your arrival in Madrid?”

“Damn in.” Brian waved Rick to our former seats in the guest area. He touched my hand. “You can go to the bedroom. I’ll be right there when I’m done with Rick.”

I nodded, not ready to be subjected to more stares.

I wasn’t sure if anyone on the staff judged me or didn’t approve of Brian's relationship, but I didn’t feel welcomed.

Mary brought our dinner, then I was alone with my thoughts. I picked at the food when about an hour had passed since I had left Brian with Rick.

The door opened when I was stubbing peas in each fork tooth.

“That took longer than expected,” he said in apology. “Sometimes, it gets to be too much.”

I walked to him, placing my hands on his shoulders, massaging slowly. “Life gets to be too much for everyone, Brian. Let’s eat. I plan on relaxing you.”

“Sounds perfect, though I’ll have to see Theodore after we eat. Something came up.”

I tried not to show how disappointed I was. I had known from moment one that I was embarking on a ship facing stormy waters. No relationship was easy, but when one dated the President of United States, some sacrifices were expected.

“What’s the plan for when we land?” I asked, sitting back at the table.

“You’ll have to check in with Drew. He’s going to be your shadow.”

“I didn’t mean the exact moment when we land. All of it.” I waved my hands around. “Am I going to stay in the same room as you?”

“I’m still thinking about it,” Brian admitted. “While Ben’s security arguments are solid, I brought you along because I want to see you at least at night and a few minutes in the morning.”

“You don’t think we could see each other during the day?” I mumbled.

“I’m afraid there’s literally no time. I’ll be up early every morning. If I don’t have to grab breakfast with some official, we’ll eat together. Then my whole day will be meticulously planned ahead. When I’ll return to my room at night, I usually have enough energy to shower and fall in bed.”

“Where I’ll be waiting for you,” I said with conviction. I didn’t want to think that his hectic schedule would put a damper on our relationship.

Brian leaned closer, kissing me softly. “I insisted on the free day in Paris because I want to spend it with you. It doesn’t matter if we go out undercover or stay locked in the hotel room, but that time will be ours. We might have such days in some other cities, but I’m not making promises.”

I threaded my fingers through his hair. “If the press sees us?”

“I got that covered. Rick is the Head of the White House Press. He’ll get a hold of a professional camera for you. You can use it for taking pictures. If we’re seen together, you’re the official photographer.”

“Sounds cool.” I winked. “Can we have a naked photo session, Mr. President?”

“You’re the dirty kind of photographer, I see. You want to leak compromising photos of me to the press.”

“Never!” I laughed. “They’ll all be for my self-love sessions when you’d be too tired to do much else.”

Brian narrowed his eyes. “I’m never too tired to fuck, Justin.”

I did my best in trying to listen to Drew talking about the history behind the buildings we were seeing, but the architecture and beauty of them was far more fascinating.

It wasn’t that Drew was a terrible tour guide, but he tended to get in the most boring details ever.

Though, I should suck it up, since we were stepping all over Brian's rules. He had told us to have fun in Madrid, stressing the city’s name. It was obvious he knew me far too well to understand I couldn’t be kept away from the beautiful buildings Spain had.

Drew and I saw some of the important attractions of Madrid, even crossing paths with Brian once, but of course we merely kept walking, instead of stopping on the side of the road and gawking at the cars passing by. I never understood why people did such things. Even if I didn’t know Brian personally, I wouldn’t have stopped there to wave and look. I knew for a fact that Brian wasn’t even looking out the window.

During our lunch, I had pulled up Barcelona’s map on my phone. Drew took his baseball cap off, running a hand through his short hair.

“Justin, I love my job.”

“Please. No one has to know we’ve been there.”

I had no idea how good I was at persuasion until Drew caved to my puppy eyes.

Our adventure in Barcelona was coming to an end. We had to catch the train back to Madrid, but according to Drew’s last phone call with some other Secret Service colleague, Brian had plans for dinner. He wouldn’t know I wasn’t in our room, waiting for him.

We were in the train on our way back when Brian called Drew, demanding he wanted to talk to me.

“Justin,” Brian snapped.

“Hey, Brian! How’s your day been?”

“When you get back, I want you in our room. We need to talk.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll be there in about two hours? Tops. There’s so much to see…” I shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

“Put Drew back,” he muttered, making me thrust the phone into Drew’s hand.

I tuned out their conversation, as I stared out the window, chewing on my lips.

“He knows,” Drew said once he hung up.

“How?” I whispered. I feared this outcome, because why else would Brian be so upset? He had been so happy that morning.

Drew leaned closer. “Don’t look – and by that I seriously mean don’t look! There is a man several seats behind us. He’s been following us the whole day.”

My heart stopped. I stared at Drew with wide eyes, feeling panic settling into my bones.

“I didn’t have the heart to put a stop to your enthusiasm. I knew Brian wouldn’t let me off the hook so easily. I put your life in danger when I didn’t follow you on the plane like he had instructed me.” Drew readjusted into his seat, his shoulders slumped. “So he had George following us.”

“Oh!” We weren’t targeted by some murderer. I punched Drew in the shoulder as hard as I could. “You scared the fuck out of me!”

He lifted a brow.

“I thought we were in danger!”

“Oh, we are. Brian could fire me over this. You’d be at the end of his wrath, too.”

“I’ll talk to him. Everything will be okay,” I said quietly. I had to talk sense into Brian.

I was aware that we had disobeyed a direct order from the freaking President, but Brian couldn’t expect me to stay put when we were visiting Spain. It had been a dream of mine to see the Dali museum, the churches, the Gaudi buildings.

When we stepped out of the train, George fell in step with us. He was the usual built for a special agent, but unlike Drew, he was wearing his suit and ear piece. He escorted us to a limousine outside the train station.

The ride to the hotel was filled with tension.

The day’s adventures were catching up with me, and I could feel my eyelids drooping, but sleep was the last thing I could think of. Brian was waiting for me in the room he had fought with all his security detail to have me in. No one had been happy to hear he wanted me in his private suite.

I felt small and stupid as I allowed George to escort me through the hotel. He knocked once on the door of our room, and when Brian opened it, George disappeared down the hallway.

Brian grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me inside. The door slammed shut in my wake.

He caught my face between his fingers, glaring daggers. “If you ever scare me like this, you’ll be in deep shit, Taylor.”

“What?” I grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand away. “Look, I’m sorry I made Drew step all over the rules. Don’t fire him, okay?”

Brian shot me an amused look, then engulfed me in a big hug. “When Ben pulled me aside after the meeting with the Prime Minister, telling me that you were headed for the train station…”

“What? You thought I was going to run away?” I laughed nervously. “I wanted to see Barcelona.” I placed my cheek against his shoulder, breathing into his scent. “I promise to always listen to Drew. Please tell me, I still get Drew as my bodyguard.”

“No way. I’m going to think of someone else. It was a mistake to assign Drew to you. You two get along too well, but he should have remembered his job when he agreed to forget my orders about not leaving the city without my knowledge.”

I gasped, pulling away. “You mean, if we’d have told you we were going, you wouldn’t be so upset?”

“Granted I allowed your trip…maybe, maybe not.”

“I got you something.” I fished for the shell bracelet in my pockets, then presented it to him on my open palm.

Brian touched the cowry shells softly, meeting my eyes. He pulled up his dress shirt’s sleeve. “Put it on me.”

I fastened it to his right wrist before he could change his mind.

“Thank you.” He kissed me slowly, his tongue doing sinful things. “Ready for dinner?”

“I thought you had plans for dinner?” I asked. “I'm going to shower and hit the bed. Don’t worry about me.”

“Justin, you are my dinner plans. You can go ahead and freshen up, but remember that we had reservation for nine. We’re already late.”

I dropped my hands, staring at him in shock. “You…we…public? I think…”

“Stop worrying. Go and freshen up.” Brian pushed me toward the bathroom.

#

The restaurant was one of those food establishments, I would have looked at, drooled over their food, then carried on to a street corner fast-food place.

During the ride to the restaurant, I discovered Brian had closed it so we would be the only two people dining in there. The Caddy parked in a back alley.

Brian touched my hand before I could open the door. He shook his head.

Will Vance opened the door for me, ushering me toward the back door. Not far behind, I could hear Brian and Ben following us.

The staff greeting us was professional and didn’t bat an eye at who was in their restaurant. They led us to a table already set.

“You can start by bringing us the wine,” Brian told the man waiting on us.

I looked around, amazed with the beautiful place and the architecture. I noticed Ben and Will a few tables away, stoic and on alert.

“So how was your day?” I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Not nearly as exciting as yours,” Brian said, smiling.

“Oh, come on! I said I was sorry.”

“I understand you want freedom to do whatever you want, but unfortunately, not when you’re here with me.” Brian pulled his chair closer to mine, taking one of my hands. “I’ll understand if this isn’t the way you want to live your life.”

“Would you shut up? This is exactly how I want to live my life – because I get to experience it all with you! I promise to be more careful and listen to Drew when he says we can’t disobey your orders.”

“As subtle as an elephant,” Brian said, chuckling. “While you were showering earlier, I’ve been thinking. You can keep Drew, but I swear to God, if you as much as leave his side for anything, I’m going to assign Trevor to you.”

“Who’s Trevor?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“Trevor is the best I have after Ben. He’s a former SEAL.”

“Oh, fuck.” Those guys scared the fuck out of me. “I promise to be a good boy.”

Brian nodded, relaxing back in the chair.

The waiter brought us wine and appetizers. I picked at the food, keeping small talk with Brian about his day. In turn, I told him a little about my day. He seemed captivated by my story.

“So what’s next on the agenda?” I asked, during second course.

“We have Rome, then London, Paris, and a few other cities. I usually have at least one day off in every city. We’re going to see how often we can do this, because even in my off days, I have meetings.” Brian sipped from his wine. “I’m dreading the campaign back home.”

“You’d be gone a lot, huh?”

He nodded. “You’re more than welcome to tag along if I don’t bore you to death during this trip.”

“I’d love to accompany you, Brian. It’s not like I have a contract anymore. I could use some time away from painting.”

“Besides, you plan on picking up reviving Rage,” he said, amused.

“If the ideas we get aren’t worthy, I’m not doing it. That was something I agreed to do for money during college, and because Michael loves comics, and there weren’t enough gay superheros out there.”

.

.

.

Back at the hotel, I gave Brian a massage that ended up relaxing him so much he fell asleep. I didn’t mind, because I knew how tired he was.

In the morning, I felt Brian kissing my mouth, but I was too sleepy to focus on his words. It was hours later when I managed to get out of the bed.

I wasn’t sure where to find Drew, but I didn’t have to look too far. He was in front of the door of our suite. I felt horrible, knowing he had stood there, waiting for me.

“Hey,” I greeted, running a hand through my hair.

“Good morning,” he answered curtly. “You should grab a jacket, as well. It’s windy today.”

I ducked back inside the room and returned with my leather jacket. “Are you mad?” I had to know.

“I have no idea if you’ve ever had an argument with Brian, but let me tell you one thing: it’s not pretty.  It’s not because he’s who he is. It’s because I caved to your Bambi eyes and had no self-control.”

I chuckled, but stopped shortly. We stepped into the elevator. “I’m sorry, Drew.”

Drew kept his head held high, eyes hard.

“Is it okay if I ask at the reception what sightseeing do they recommend?” I asked, unsure. Now, I would probably ask even if I was allowed to use the restroom. I hated that Drew was in trouble because of me.

“No need. I’ve got a list of Brian-approved things we can do.” He pulled out of his jacket a piece of paper.

I snatched the list, reading Brian's messy handwriting.

Museo Reina Sofia – that was something I had planned on visiting.

Prado Museum – we had seen it the previous day, before the impromptu visit to Barcelona

Royal Palace and Gardens – could be interesting

Puerta del Sol – we had seen it in passing. I even got a picture of it.

Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza: Fine Arts Museum – I couldn’t help but smile. It was the third museum on the list. Brian knew the way to my heart.

Basilica de San Francisco el Grande – the last building we had visited yesterday, before heading for the train station.

“We’ve got some museums to see,” I told Drew.

He smiled, walking outside the hotel.

I stopped in my tracks when I noticed Brian's limo outside. “What’s this all about?”

Drew nodded, pressing a hand to his earpiece. “I have Warhol and I’m headed for the town,” he murmured into his sleeve.

I snorted. I liked my new code name. I had always admired Andy Warhol.

“We’re taking the bus,” Drew told me, just as the sliding doors of the hotel opened again.

Brian was accompanied by an elegant woman, smiling and looking jovial. I had come to know him so well, that I could tell how fake the smile was. His eyes caught mine, one of his eyebrows raising.

Drew pulled me out of the way, pushing me down the street.

I glanced back over my shoulder, to see Brian by the limo’s backdoor waiting for the woman to get inside. He seemed to have a hushed conversation with Ben.

“I didn’t manhandle him,” Drew snapped, pulling out the earpiece.

I laughed, hooking my arm around his. I grinned at him when he shot me an odd look.

“So we’re taking the bus,” I said casually.

“I have tickets for our ride. We just need to figure out where’s the bus station. On the map it didn’t look that far from the hotel.”

Brian’s limo spent past us, and I couldn’t help but feel butterflies in my stomach. Who would have thought I would fall so deeply?

Rome was gloomy. All the buildings with heavy history made the weather bearable, but around three in the afternoon, I pulled Drew inside a pizza house. The rain had begun pouring too hard for us to keep walking around.

I asked for a cappuccino, while we decided on what pizza to get. Drew opted for plain water. I had quickly learned that he only drank water while he was on duty.

After browsing the menu several times I decided on a Margherita, while Drew chose the one with salami.

“Think they’d add some pineapple on it if I say prego?”

“First, I can tell why you get along with Emmett so well. Pineapple on pizza? Excuse me while I’m gonna barf. Second. Prego means you’re welcome from what little Italian I know. You could try per favore, but then again…they might bring the last remaining relative of Capone and kill you. Pineapple on pizza is blasphemy!”

“I agree,” a think Italian accent said from behind me.

I turned to see our waiter smiling friendly. I returned the smile.

“But if you want that, we can have it arranged,” he said, still looking at me.

“We’ll have Margherita and Salami pizzas,” Drew ordered for us.

The waiter nodded. “Anything else you might need, call for Antonio.” He pointed to his name tag.

“Who would have thought Italians were so friendly? I had a biased opinion about them,” I mused.

“He was flirting with you. Of course, he was friendly.”

I frowned. “Are you sure? I didn’t catch it.”

“Because you only have eyes for Brian.”

I drank from my warm beverage, sighing. “I barely saw him three hours in total since we landed in Rome yesterday. I knew it was going to be crazy, but not like this.”

“And this is just the beginning. I joined his Security team when he arrived at the White House, but Ben and Will have been with him all through his campaign as well. Campaigns are brutal.”

“So I should decline his invitation to join him in America, too?” I chewed on my lips.

“He asked you to … Believe me, it’s draining. I have it easy now, watching over you.” He stopped talking, pulling out his vibrating phone. “Yes,” he answered. “At some restaurant, waiting for our food.” Drew glanced at me, then turned to look out the window. “It’s pouring, man.”

I hoped that whoever was on the other end of the line didn’t want us to move anytime soon. My feet hurt from walking so much and I was famished.

“How’s that gonna work?” Drew’s sarcastic comment grabbed my attention. “Fire alarm? Empty the whole establishment because he can’t keep it in his pants?”

I lunged for the phone, checking the caller ID. Ben. Good, at least I knew him.

“Tell him it’s a terrible idea. Even though I want nothing more than to see him right now, I won’t scare and evict a whole restaurant based on…” I trailed off as Brian's Caddy pulled up in front of the pizzeria.

“I can’t stop him, Justin.”

“Holy fuck.” I shot up. “Tell Antonio to pack our food.” I was running to the door before Drew moved. I arrived at the Caddy just as the back door was opening. I dived inside, toppling over Brian.

He eyed me amused, quickly shutting the door.

“We have to abandon Boyd,” Ben said urgently, already peeling off from where we were parked. “That was so stupid! I don’t even know whose fault it is.”

“Did anyone see Justin getting in?” Brian asked, steadying me when I was flung into his side while Ben took a sharp turn.

Drew’s phone was still in my hand. When it started vibrating I stared at Ben’s name. “Why are you calling me? Shit. Fuck. I took Drew’s phone.”

“He’ll get back to the hotel on his own,” Brian pacified me. “I bet he’s been abandoned before on a mission.”

“But this isn’t a mission, with all due respect,” Ben muttered, dialing another number. “Hey, Will. We have a situation…”

Brian pressed the button for the window dividing the front and back of the car. We were encased in silence and the sound of rain hitting the metal roof and the windows.

“Do you usually go around closing food establishments only to have your way?” I joked.

“Only when the people inside them are in between me and my man.”

I beamed, snuggling into his side. “You have the rest of the day off?”

“I have a brief conference with the States later tonight, but I’m all yours. What do you want to do?”

“I’m still hungry,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

The divider window rolled down. “Bad news. Justin was seen climbing into the car. There’s already a picture in the media, but he’s a blur of black jacket and blond hair.”

I took my jacket off, chewing on my lower lip.

“It will be fine.” Brian rubbed my back.

“I’ll drop you off at the back of the hotel. There will be someone to escort you to Brian's room.”

I nodded seriously.

“It’s my fault. I didn’t think of the consequences of jumping into the president’s car.”

“It’s my fault, if you want to blame anyone,” Brian said harshly. He snatched his phone out of his pocket. “Not now, Rick.” He hung up the next second.

Ben slowed as he approached the employee entrance of the hotel. I was barely out of the car when Ben accelerated, splashing water over my jeans. The next second a tall security agent was next to me, an umbrella over my head.

I was ready to dismiss him, but I slumped my shoulders, walking to the door. An employee was coming out for a smoke, and he gave us a double look when we passed him, but I was beyond caring. I was numb from the cold and the eventful past half an hour.

The man by my side never said a word as he took me to the elevator, standing in the corner to make room for more people to step inside. As the doors slid closed, I saw Brian and Ben coming through the front doors.

We walked silently to the presidential suite. My shadow produced a key card, and I was grateful for that. Mine was in the jacket I had left in the car.

The door shut behind me, and I was surprised the agent hadn’t followed me inside.

I went straight for the bathroom. Despite how hungry I was, I needed to get warm. So I started a bath, while waiting for Brian.

“I don’t want anyone to disturb us. The world can end,” Brian shouted, before the suite door was slammed shut.

I was already in the bathtub when Brian appeared in the doorway of the bathroom.

“I’m really sorry, Justin.”

“Well, it was bound to happen. I didn’t expect it to be so soon.” I pulled my knees up, hugging them.

“I ordered room service.”

“I wonder if Drew will bring our pizza whenever he gets back.”

“Will is on his way to rescue Drew.” He knelt at my side, touching my cheek.

“Join me,” I whispered.

Brian left his clothes in a rumpled heap on the bathroom floor as he joined me.

“Good thing it’s raining. I’m gonna abuse my hoodies,” I tried to lighten the mood.

“Ben’s right. I was so incredibly stupid…” He took my hands, stroking his thumbs over my skin. “But I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” I admitted.

Brian parted my legs, leaning between them to kiss me. “Having you here is so convenient,” he said against my lips. One of his hands ran down my thigh, clamping down behind my knee.

I couldn’t help but groan in pleasure. That spot was so sensitive for me.

“What would you have done if I weren’t here?” I had to know.

“Drew would have called a very discreet and select company that provided amazing stress-relief.” Brian was bent over my neck, kissing up and down as he talked.

I could feel my blood turning to ice. “What,” I hissed, pushing him away.

“What?” He frowned, watching me confused.

I stood up, water dripping from my body. “Do I mean that little to you? Am I really convenient?” I snapped.

Brian stared up at me from his spot kneeling in the bathtub. When his eyes widened, I knew he figured out what he had said. He caught my wrist, before I could step out of the tub.

“Shit, Justin! That’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m no saint, but….” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Fuck. I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if you weren’t here.”

“Would you have told me?”

“Would it have made you feel better if I told you that I was sleeping around?” he challenged.

I gulped thickly, feeling tears at the back of my eyes. “The thought would have counted.”

Brian stood, helping me out of the tub.

While we toweled in silence, I thought of how difficult it must be for him. All the more reason to stop his ways of getting some, now that I was in the picture.

“Look, I can hear your wheels turning. Since I first met you, I’ve only had a handful of escorts. It was mostly in the beginning…And in the past month, when I was probably a lot to handle to everyone, Sam, one of my security guys, walked me to my room from the office. He whispered that he took liberties to relax me.” Brian rubbed a hand over my shoulder. “The man waiting in my room was nothing I wanted. I let him blow me before I told Sam to kick him out.”

If I thought his honesty would make it more bearable, I was mistaken. I had a blowjob or two at Babylon too, but we hadn’t been so serious back then.

“The next day, I packed up and went to Lindsay’s. I never had second thoughts about my sexcapades, but I couldn’t help but see your disappointed face in my head. The same face you have now.”

I met his eyes, blinking back the tears in mine. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I never had this. I don’t know how to do steady, Justin.”

“Like I do?” I could hear my voice raising on the edge of hysteric. “I’m an artist. I fall in love too quickly, then someone new catches my interest.” I reached up to touch his slightly stubbly cheek. “Until you.” I knew we weren’t at that point where heavy confessions were made, but I had to tell him how I felt. “I never felt like this before.”

“That makes two of us,” Brian whispered, wrapping his arms around me. “Tell me we’re okay.”

“If this is the worst we can fight, I can handle it.”

He smiled against my forehead. After planting a kiss on my hair, Brian pulled me to the bedroom. “Make-up sex is something else. Or so it’s said.”

“Let’s find out.”

I jumped on the bed, just as there was a knock on the door.

“There better be an alien invasion,” Brian muttered, snatching a robe, before heading to the door. Soft words were exchanged, then Brian joined me on the bed. “Drew’s back. Your pizza is in the sitting room.”

I grinned, remembering how hungry I was. But food would have to wait. My hunger for food dimmed in comparison to my hunger for Brian.

“Why is there a heart shaped post-it note on the box?” Brian asked, as he rolled a condom on his erection.

“I made an impression.” I laughed. “Drew thought Antonio was flirting with me, but I couldn’t tell. I only have eyes for you, Mr. President.”

“Jesus. That’s the epitome of corny, Painter Boy.”

“Just get your dick inside me,” I said impatiently.

Smirking, Brian crawled between my legs, breaching me slowly with lubed fingers. It never ceased to amaze me how careful Brian was every time we had sex. When he deemed me ready, he pushed into me slowly. His head was thrown back and all I wanted was to suck on his Adam’s apple.

God, this man was going to be the death of me.

We clung to each other, moving slowly, sweaty skin sliding against sweaty skin. I didn’t want to name what we were doing, because it would mean admitting to myself how hard and fast I had fallen for Brian.

After the bad weather in Italy, we had a warm spring day in Paris.

“If I bore you, feel free to leave me alone. I promise not to go anywhere anytime soon.”

We were in a small park, and I kept myself entertained with my sketchpad. Drew sat next to me, eyes everywhere.

“I love my job,” he muttered.

“Fine! But at least relax.”

Drew sighed loudly, pulling his phone out. He had checked that thing a million times since early morning.

I focused once again on my sketch of the landscape. The whole city was filled with art and history which inspired me so much I had to buy a sketchpad and several charcoal pens.

“Okay, I hate to interfere, but we have to go.” Drew stood, smoothing his dark sweater. It was the first day since we had started the trip that I saw him not wearing something casual.

“Aw, but I’m almost done. Go buy a coffee, or something.” I squinted up at him through the sun.

“I have to get you back to the hotel, before I go to the airport.”

I abandoned my sketchpad on the bench and stood up. “Is Brian sending you home?” I tried not to show how panicked I was.

He eyed me amused. “Emmett lands around six. If we leave now, I’ll make it to him in time.”

I checked my phone to see it was a little after four. “The hotel is not that far…”

“Absolutely not.” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Look, I bet Brian doesn’t have the whole team on his ass. Call someone to replace you.”

Drew snorted. “I can’t believe you, Justin.” Thankfully, he called one of his colleagues.

I tried to get back in the right mindset to finish my sketch, but Drew was hovering and pacing like a caged lion. The replacement arrived, and after Drew instructed him not to take his eyes off me because I was slippery, he left.

I had no idea I could blush so badly. I wanted to strangle Drew for his out of place commentary. So what if I had tried ditching him several times during the day, but he wasn’t interested or didn’t allow me to go wherever I wanted.

An idea came to me. This guy wasn’t as paranoid as Drew. 

“Hey! Think La Conciergerie is still open?” I caught the guy’s eye.

“Let me check.” After a scroll through his phone, he nodded.

“Cool! Let’s go!”

We weren’t very far, so we walked there. I found out his name was Matt and he had served in Iraq for several years before he returned home. Hearing his stories from war was like a prequel for visiting the medieval fortress. I had no idea such stories could spook me, but when we left and I noticed dusk had settled upon the streets, I shivered.

Matt graciously offered me his suit jacket. I wanted to decline it, but I chose to accept it since the spring night was cool.

“Do you want me to call someone to pick us up, or would you like to use public transport?” Matt asked.

I chewed on my lip. This was my only opportunity to see the cemetery where many artists have been buried. It had been on my bucket list since I found out it existed.

“There’s something else I want to see,” I said firmly.

“I’m afraid most of the museums have closed for the day.”

“This place never closes,” I explained. “I’m talking about the Père Lachaise Cemetery.”

Matt actually smiled, and I was sure he would start laughing at me. “Let me find the fastest route there.”

On our way there, he explained that he had wanted to see it for years, but being part of Brian’s detail, he never had the opportunity to explore the city in his previous visits.

“You should thank Drew for calling you to replace him,” I joked.

“I might as well.” Matt grinned.

The alleys in the cemetery were dimly lit, and it gave the whole experience an eerie feeling. We spent a few moments in silence in front of most of the graves, discussing their habitats’ music.

As we were walking to the exit, Matt’s phone rang. “Ben,” he answered promptly. “I have him right here with me. What’s the problem?”

I could hear Ben’s agitated voice, but I couldn’t make out the words.

“Everything is under control—Uh, fine. We’re at the Père Lachaise Cemetery.” Matt stopped me right outside the cemetery.  “Yes, I know how to get there. Okay.”

“Let me guess, someone lost me,” I laughed.

“Drew texted Ben that I replaced him as your detail and that we were headed to the hotel.”

“Oh.” I gasped.

“Yes. I can imagine anyone would have been worried knowing that piece of information. Come on. We have about ten minutes to walk to our rendez-vous.”

“Pardon my French.” I laughed again. It was probably my last laugh before I faced an angry Brian.

“That’s what we call the meeting point in military talk.”

“Oh, I see.”

When we reached the spot, Brian’s Caddy was parked there. Ben was leaning against the hood, arms crossed across his chest. He looked as intimidating as ever.

“If it isn’t Big and Bulky,” I cried out.

Ben threw me a sharp look. “Wait right here,” he told Matt, before grabbing my elbow.

“Hey! I thought Brian told you repeatedly to stop manhandling me.”

“What happened to going straight to the hotel?” he snapped.

“Drew wanted to get me back to the hotel so he could go after Emmett. When Matt replaced him, I could continue exploring the city.” I shrugged. “Where are we going?” I asked, apprehensively.

We were headed toward the river.

“I’m going to drown you,” Ben muttered.

“What?” I shouted, stopping abruptly.

He dragged me toward the shore. He was too strong, and I was starting to freak out.

Then I saw a cruise boat. I didn’t need to see inside to know Brian had rented it for us.

“You oaf!” I punched Ben’ shoulder, regretting it the next second. My wrist hurt like hell. “Never joke again.”

“Duly noted. Now, step inside. You’ll be safe.”

I didn’t feel safe at all when the ship rocked on the water. As I walked into a room decorated with several tables and chairs, I could feel we were moving.

Brian was seated at such a table, sipping from a glass.

I tried to gauge his mood, but he had the best poker face in the world.

“Hey,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his cheek, before I took a seat opposite him.

A waiter appeared from the shadows asking what would I drink. I chose vodka. I was going to need all the courage to face this stoic Brian.

“Never scare me like today,” Brian said gravely once we were alone.

“Scare you? How did I scare you?”

“Drew told Ben you’d be in our room, when you weren’t there and Drew didn’t have an answer for that, I thought of the worst.”

“That I decided to run away with a Parisian guy.” I rolled my eyes.

Brian's jaw clenched, his hard eyes glaring out the window. “I didn’t want to tell you.” He caught my eyes in an intense stare. “The press is doing their best to find out who’s the blond man that jumped into my car in Rome. I was informed today that they believe the blond man is close to me somehow because one of my best security men is with him all the time.”

I was aware I should breathe, but I couldn’t locate my lungs. My heart was in my throat. “Holy hell,” I choked out.

“Yeah, so you see…I thought you were discovered.”

“Fuck.” I reached across the table and linked our fingers. “I finished my tour of the city with Matt.” I wet my lips. “Does the press know Matt? I won’t mind keeping him.”

Brian squeezed my fingers. “That’s a good idea. Though, you won’t need him until our next stop. Tomorrow you’re all mine.”

“You still want to go through with whatever you have planned? After everything?”

“I can’t say I’m thrilled teetering on the edge of being thrown out of the closet, but I won’t allow the press or anyone else to stay in between our happiness.” He downed his glass, smiling. “I didn’t close the Eiffel Tour for two hours at sunset for nothing.”

My eyes widened. “You didn’t,” I gasped. At his indulgent smile growing, I rolled my eyes. “Of course you did.”

“Anything for my Painter Boy.”

I emptied my glass of vodka. Brian was never a romantic, and I had no idea what to do with this new version of him.

“So how was your meeting with…what is his name?” Politics was not my thing.

Brian laughed. “You know I consider all my meetings boring. You better tell me about your day. I hear you saw quite a few attractions.”

I nodded. As I delved into how Drew skipped the line to the Louvre, the waiter brought us food. Brian must have already ordered.

I kept talking as we ate. The wine paired with the duck made me lightheaded. I refused to admit that I might be slightly drunk.

Brian topped our glasses, before he pulled me outside on the deck. Or whatever it was called.

The fresh air made me realize we were visible to the people walking along Sienna. I was suddenly on alert, looking around like a hawk.

“I ditched the security for a reason. Don’t take their job,” Brian said amused.

He propped against the wall separating us from the room we had been in. I leaned against the railing, wine glass in my hand.

“Sadly, we can’t ever do normal stuff,” I reminded him.

“This is normal enough.”

“How much did you pay that guy for secrecy?”

Brian huffed. “He’ll talk. Not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but by the end of the week all his friends will know he waited on America’s President.”

“And his lover.” He avoided eye-contact. I wasn’t ready to label us.

“He doesn’t have to know who you are to me.”

“We haven’t been subtle, Brian.”

“Stop worrying. Besides, no one can see us here. Right now.”

“Is that so?” I stepped closer, into his personal space, pressing my chest to his. Then we were kissing, and I forgot his job title or the semi-public spot we were in. It was just the two of us in the world in that moment.

“I can’t wait to show you Paris from above tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to experience that with you.”

“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Brian raised a brow.

“I trust you to hold my hand if I freak out,” I joked.

Brian kept him arms tightly around me, holding me from behind as we stared at the glorious view of Paris at twilight.

I had several pictures to help me paint this whenever I would get my hands on a brush and some oil paints.

Brian's hot breath against my ear made me shiver. I tilted my head to meet his eyes.

I shouldn’t have been surprised to find him watching me.

“Let me guess. I’m more interesting than the view.”

“You are.” He spun me around, stroking my cheek. “You’re beautiful, Justin.”

I bit on the inside of my cheek, as I blushed horribly. I couldn’t duck my head to hide, like I usually did when someone complimented me.

“So are you, Brian,” he said, teasingly, trying to mock my voice.

I laughed nervously, pressing my forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sure you know by now that I don’t know how to take compliments.”

“You should get used to it, because I plan on reminding you of how hot you are for the rest of your life.”

I took a step back, forgetting my fear of heights. “What?”

Brian took one of my hands, his face wary. “That is if you’d put up with me for that long.”

I blinked, shaking my head. “Whoa! What about…I mean…you think…you want this after you retire?”

“There won’t be a moment I don’t want you, Justin.”

My mind was spinning at his confession.

“I doubt we’ll be able to hide this for much longer, and if the thought of being part of the madness that is to come when people find out I’m gay doesn’t scare you…” Brian twined our fingers, smiling boyishly. “I have a proposition.”

“I’m here to stay for as long as you’ll have me,” I admitted.

Brian smiled brightly. “I bought a small house in Silver Spring. It’s close and there’s a long street that leads there from the White House.”

“Holy shit!” I covered my mouth, because I couldn’t believe how invested he had become in our relationship.

I kept waiting for him to wake up and realize he was in another league and wouldn’t want anything to do with me, but he just proved to me how much he cared for me.

“What about my friends?” I mumbled, aware I was possibly kicking the opportunity of a lifetime. “My whole life is in Pittsburgh.”

“There are several art galleries in Washington DC. I know the owner of a select one if you’re interested. You’re free to visit your friends, but I’ll be selfish and keep you close.”

“There are roughly four hours’ drive from Pittsburgh to DC. With the way your guys drive…”

“You’re afraid,” Brian said softly. “That’s why you’re stalling and finding excuses.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, turning to look at the landscape. “This whole relationship scared me from moment one, Brian. There is so much that could go wrong…”

“And I keep stepping all over my rules to prove to you that I’m one hundred percent into this relationship. Hell, if someone asked me last year whether I saw myself in a relationship, I’d have laughed in their face.” 

“I want everything you said,” I said softly, turning to face him. “I know—I knew from the moment we first fucked that this was going to be difficult, but I had no idea how hard I’d fall for you. That’s what is scaring me.”

Brian smiled, wrapping his arms around. “You’re so blind. Can’t you see that I fell too? I wouldn't have done so many reckless things if I wasn’t in love with you.”

I grinned into his neck, embracing him. “Yes,” I said loudly.

“Yes, what?” He pulled away a little to frown at me.

“Yes, I’ll move in the house you bought. Yes, I’m ready to face the show when America finds out their President likes dick.”

He laughed heartily. “You had me worried there for a second.”

“You, worried?” I teased.

“It happens.” He shrugged. “Let’s head back down. Our time is almost up and we don’t want to run into anyone.”

#

During the ride back to the hotel, Brian showed me pictures of the house. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a pretty spacious family room, a dining room, and a garage able to host two cars. It was more than I ever dreamed of having.

“I might turn one of the rooms into my studio,” I thought aloud.

“That won’t be necessary. Unless you really want to paint at home. I can talk to my friend and find you a studio downtown.”

I chewed on my lips as a large smile spread across my face. “I’m moving to DC.”

“You are.” Brian kissed me wetly. “Just wait until we get in our hotel room. I’ll show you how happy you made me.”

Ben cleared his throat from behind the wheel. I separated from Brian with a pout. He caught my eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Sorry, Justin. Change of plans. I’m dropping you off on the way. You’ll return to the hotel with Matt.”

“What the hell?” Brian snapped, taking my hand.

“You don’t want to be seen just yet, do you? Besides, Mr. Schmidt called while you were in the Eiffel Tower. He’s waiting for you in the lobby for a short meeting with Mr. Armand.”

“Fuck.” Brian pulled his phone out, scrolling through his contacts then pressing it to his ear. “Theodore,” he sneered. “What the hell don’t you get that this is my free day?”

I looked out the window, tuning out Brian arguing with the Vice President.

When the car stopped near the sidewalk, I spotted Matt at a table on the patio of a cafe place.

I chastely kissed Brian's lips, before slipping out and hurrying to Matt. I heard the Caddy pulling back into traffic just as I momentarily became blinded by several flashes from cameras pointed at me.

I tugged the cowl of my hoodie over my head, running inside the cafe and straight to the bathroom. Matt could come save me from there, because I wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

I locked myself in one of the two stalls, keeping my nose in the hem of the hoodie. Brian had lent me his hoodie when mine got too dirty to wear. I wasn’t complaining about wearing something of his, especially at the moment. His cologne was imprinted in the fabric.

There was a commotion outside the toilet door, then there was a knock on my stall’s metal door. “You okay?”

Relief flooded me when I heard Matt’s voice. “Is it safe?” I whispered.

“Want me to lie?”

My shoulders slumped in defeat as I came out of the stall. Matt bumped my chin, winking.

“Thanks for making my job a hell lot more interesting.”

I scoffed, keeping the cowl over my head with one hand.

“Stay behind me,” he said seriously, cracking the door open to check if anyone was in the hallway. “Crap.” He closed it tightly, pressing a finger to his ear piece. “I’m trapped with Warhol in the bathroom of Cafe La Vie en Rose.” A few seconds passed. “Negative. No windows.”

I chewed on my thumb. I had the urge to scream at the top of my lungs in anger. Why did it matter to those people if I got out of the President of America’s car? He had several of such cars around the city so enemies wouldn’t know which one he was in.

“That’s a bad idea, Boyd.”

I looked at Matt when he mentioned Drew’s name. His free hand was on the gun, which slightly terrified me.

As much as I loved action movies, this was my life.

Matt turned to me. “Drew will rescue us in about fifteen minutes.”

“Are we in danger?” I finally found my voice.

“No.”

“Then why are you…” I gestured to his gun.

“It's instinct.” He didn’t drop the hand, as he pressed his finger to the ear piece again. “He’s safe, Mr. President. I have it under control.” Matt caught my eyes, smiling. “Of course, sir. I will.”

“I hate this,” I mumbled, leaning against the wall.

“I didn't have so much action since Iraq.”

I glared at him for enjoying the situation too much.

The fire alarm of the building blaring loudly made me jump out of my skin. I was deep in thought about the possibilities of hiding our relationship.

The first instinct was to bolt for the door, but then I remembered who was on the other side. While I was contemplating whether or not I was ready die here, I noticed Matt wasn’t even surprised about the alarm blaring.

Drew.

Drew was here to save me.

“I don’t hear a word you’re saying,” Matt muttered in his sleeve. “We’re coming out.” He grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Keep the cowl on.”

Then we were running outside, mingling with the scared patrons. Once in the street, Matt sprinted to the corner of the street, then pulled me in an alley. A small French car was stopped there.

I dove for the backseat, while Matt got in the front.

“We have to thank Mr. Kinney for bringing such entertainment in our lives,” Matt said, amused.

Drew barked a loud laugh. “What’s next, Justin?”

“Why would I tell you my next grand move?” I managed to say, though the whole thing had left me more shaken than I wanted.

While we drove to the hotel, I Googled Brian's name. I choked on my spit when the first picture I saw was of my freaked face staring into a camera outside the cafe.

“Justin,” Drew called my name, worried.

I gasped for breath, unable to explain.

“I think he has a panic attack,” Matt commented.

The car stopped, then strong arms pulled me out of the car, keeping my head down. I was vaguely aware we were in the hotel lobby.

“You need to pull out of this. Brian will kill both of us,” Drew begged. “What happened?”

“This,” Matt’s flat voice said as the elevator doors closed. He was holding my phone.

At the presidential suite, Brian was outside the doors. I fell into his arm, finally allowing the events to catch up with me as I bawled. I wasn’t used to such adrenaline rush and the news of being discovered terrified me.

I was vaguely aware of Brian firing instructions to Drew and Matt, then we went into the suite. We lay on the bed spooning for what felt like hours. I appreciated that Brian didn’t say anything. All I needed was for him to hold me tight.

There was a knock on our door a while later, and he pulled away after dropping a kiss to my head.

“We thought of a cover story,” a deep voice said.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Brian muttered.

“You were never in that car. Justin is your photographer, like we first discussed. One of the cars from your motorcade dropped him at the cafe while you returned to the hotel through a different route.”

“That’s why your ideas scare me, Will.”

“Is it that bad?”

“It’s that good,” Brian said, slightly amused. “Go tell it to Blake. Tell him you have the green light from me to say whatever lie you can come up with to keep the truth hidden for a little while longer.”

When Brian returned to the bedroom, I was sitting up in the bed.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked.

“I bet you heard my conversation with Will.”

“I mean…the plan about you coming out,” I whispered.

“I’ll talk with Blake during our plane ride to Berlin. You can join us.”

“I think it’s better if you say something yourself…If people find out from the media…it’s gonna be…”

Brian nodded. “If we can keep this hidden until we reach home, I’ll set a press meeting on the lawn where they can take pictures of us. If it’s alright with you.”

“We established that we’re in too deep for something so small to scare us.”

“You just had a panic attack, Justin!”

“I was scared of what the world would say about you!”

“You’re a twat,” he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I think our plans for the evening involved this bed in other ways than what we used it so far.”

“Playing coy, Mr. President?” I teased.

“I’ll show you coy.” He pushed me on my back, divesting me of my clothes.

When we touched down on American soil, I couldn’t have been happier to be back home. I said my goodbye to Brian in the plane, before Drew whisked me away to the usual black Caddy. He was my designated driver.

“Think you can turn off the radio?” I asked, relaxing in the passenger seat.

“Tired?”

Our last stop had been Turkey, which was fucking far away. I had been on the longest plane ride ever and I was ready to drop. We hadn’t slept much, preferring to perfect the plan about when Brian would come out.

I hated doing this to him, but it was clear we couldn’t keep the relationship hidden.

Brian even shrugged to my question about people not voting for him anymore when they found out he was gay. He was ready to show everyone who he really was.

I dozed off during the car ride to Pittsburgh and dreamed of a parallel world where Brian and I were two simple people meeting at Babylon.

“We’re here,” Drew said softly, shaking my shoulder.

I closed my mouth, aware I might have drooled in my sleep. Blinking, I noticed the entrance of my building to my right.

We hadn’t decided when I might move in the house Brian had bought, but it was clear that I had to get used to the idea of saying goodbye to my condo. And to my friends. I closed my eyes as tears gathered, ready to spill.

Drew pulled out my bags, which had multiplied because Brian insisted I buy whatever I wanted during our trip. I walked ahead of Drew, jingling my keys on my little finger.

“Stop,” he hissed when we reached my landing.

I turned to him, but froze when I saw his gun out. He put a finger to his lips, pointing to dim light spilling from under my front door.

Holy fuck.

“Unlock it slowly and step aside,” he instructed in a hushed voice.

It took me twice the time to do the task due to nerves. I couldn’t believe that my condo was broken in. This was a safe neighborhood.

When Drew shouldered the door open with his right arm extended in front of him, more light flooded from the inside as several voices shouted “Surprise!”

Too soon the excited voices turned hysterical.

I pushed inside past a stunned Drew to find Emmett, Michael, Debbie, and Daphne at the bottom of the stairs.

“Wanna put that down, baby?” Emmett asked tentatively.

Drew pulled the safety of his gun, pushing it pack in the holster. “You’re all idiots.”

“How did you get in here?” I couldn’t remember giving any of them a copy of the new keys set.

“Your mom was generous to lend us her key when she heard we wanted to surprise you,” Daphne explained. “Can’t say this wasn’t a real surprise, huh? It’s not every day when you’re at gun point.”

Justin chucked. “Sorry. We’re a little tense after everything.”

“I wouldn’t come to the diner any time soon if I were you,” Debbie said quietly.

“So everyone knows?” Justin mumbled.

“Only people who don’t know you might buy the whole photographer story,” Emmett quipped up. He went to Drew’s side, kissing him. “We didn’t think—”

“It’s not your fault,” Drew said. “You should be glad it was me and not Ben.”

I froze during my hug with Daphne. I couldn’t even think of what Ben would have done were he in Drew’s place.

“Speaking of…Is there any chance he’ll come by?” Michael wondered.

I scrubbed at the back of my head. “I have to tell you guys something.”

“I’ll bring in your bags,” Drew offered, disappearing out the door.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine? Don’t tell me Mr. High and Mighty dumped you over this scandal,” Debbie cried out, hands on her hips.

I fought a smile. “Nothing like that…Actually, Brian asked me to…” I gulped, looking away as tears pooled into my eyes. “Brian bought a house and he wants me to move in there. I said yes.”

“Oh, baby,” Emmett wailed, rushing to my side and hugging me tightly.

“It’s not like you’ll live together. What does this mean? Are you his kept boy?” Debbie demanded.

I blushed furiously. “No, Deb. It’s the only way we can be together. It’s not like I could move into the White House.”

“I’m glad Brian decided on the house,” Drew commented, returning with the last of the bags. “Only Ben and I know how many times we told him bringing you to the White House was a terrible idea.”

“I’m glad you talked sense into him.” I returned his smile.

“Wait. This means I won’t see you anymore?” Emmett pouted, going to Drew and hugging him tightly.

“You’ll visit me…and you’ll be able to see Drew. Same goes for you, Michael.” I put an arm around Daphne’s shoulder. “I promise to visit too.”

“When are you moving?” She asked.

“Soon. We haven’t set a date yet, but the sooner the better.”

I insisted for Drew to stay long enough to sample the goodies Debbie had made, but then he excused himself, saying he had to go. Emmett followed him outside and didn’t return for a good fifteen minutes.

I told them about what I had visited and shown them some of the things I had bought, but a couple hours later they got the hint that I was dead on my feet.

Michael lingered, helping me clean up, for which I was grateful.

“Oh, wait until you see it.” I went to my satchel, pulling out two sketchpads. “I was inspired during the plane rides and this happened. If you can work with it and create a story line…I wrote some things too, but you know I’m shit at story-telling.”

“Whoa!” Michael perked up, sifting through the drawings. “This is pretty amazing.”

I shrugged. “I guess Brian reminds me of Rage, like you said. I had the source of inspiration close.”

Michael laughed. “Can I take these?”

“Sure. If you need more or anything changed, let me know.” I walked him to the front door. “And I mean it. You’re welcome to visit.”

“It would be weird not having you around.”

“Believe me, I know. I won’t know anyone there, and I doubt Brian would be able to be with me that often. I’ll need company.”

“Count me in.” Michael winked. “See you, Justin.”

After I locked up, I went upstairs and fell face first on the bed. My phone ringing woke me up.

I noticed my phone was on the bed next to me though I had no recollection of dropping it there. Bright light coming through my window made me squint at the screen. It was an unknown number.

“Hello,” I answered warily, ready to hang up if it was one of my new adoring fans.

“About time you decided to pick up.”

“Brian?” I tried making my brain work.

“This phone is Ben-approved. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah.”

“Not very eloquent this morning, Painter Boy.”

“I slept for like twelve hours…and I’m still tired.” I rolled around in bed, tugging the pillow over my head.

“I had a meeting with Theodore and Blake when we got to the White House, then I went over to Lindsay’s when she demanded that Gus missed me, and I got back around ten at night. I had to wake up before eight and have breakfast with a senator. Now I’m getting ready for a press conference. Am I boring you?”

“I’m falling back asleep,” I admitted.

“Fine. Save this number. I’ll talk to you later when you’re awake,” Brian scoffed, hanging up.

“Sorry,” I said to no one in particular, closing my eyes.

.

.

.

Several hours later, I woke up. I was vaguely aware of a phone call from Brian, but that was impossible. We had the email for that.

Though, a look at my phone showed me an accepted call from a strange number around noon time. It was close to four in the afternoon at the moment.

I must have been really tired to sleep for so long.

I also noticed a text message from my mother.

After a shower, I decided to call Mom and meet for dinner if she could. I hadn’t seen her or Molly in too long.

“Hey Mom,” I said in greeting when the call connected.

“Honey! How are you?”

“Good…” I sat on the edge of the bed, looking around my bedroom. Soon, I would have to put this behind and move on. “Busy tonight? I was thinking of taking you out for dinner.”

“How can I refuse such an invitation? Though, do you mind if I bring your sister? Tucker is gone with his group of bikers for the weekends.”

I rolled my eyes at hearing about mom’s young boyfriend. “Sure. I miss Mollusk.”

“The usual restaurant?” Mom asked.

“Yeah. Around six, okay?”

“Perfect. See you there, sweetie.”

After hanging up, I saved the unknown number as BK, then dialed it. When I was ready to hang up, thinking I had imagined the whole conversation with Brian and the number was a scam, Brian's soft voice answered.

“If the Sleeping Beauty hasn’t awakened at last!”

I scoffed. “You kept me up the night before and I can’t say I slept much during the plane ride.”

“Yeah, you were more preoccupied with drawing your superhero.”

“I was inspired. Anyway, how come you are allowed a phone?”

“My security understood that I needed a fast way to communicate with you, because the email is anything but fast. Especially when you’re at the receiving end.”

“Hey! I’m an artist. I don’t have time to check my email every five minutes,” I defended myself. “So how are you?”

“Done for the day. I’m in my room with Bruce.”

“Nice. I should get ready. I’m having dinner with my mom. I plan on telling her about moving.”

Brian sighed heavily. “I’m really sorry to put you in this position, but should I remind you that I’m a selfish person?”

“Don’t worry, because I’d rather be there with you than miles away. Especially after this trip…I won’t be able to live without you.”

“More traveling is coming up soon but by then I hope to have our relationship out in the open. I’m still talking to Blake how should we proceed for everything to go as smoothly as possible.”

“Any ideas? What happened to a press conference on the lawn where they could see us walking around?” I asked.

“Blake dismissed that British royalty bullshit the second I said it.” Brian laughed.

“It had its flaw, but it was a good idea,” I admitted.

“Anyway, I was thinking to accept the invitation to Carnegie.”

“Oh.” I had no idea about that.

“Yeah, they heard I recently purchased a painting from one of their former students and they wanted—” 

“Are you making this shit up?”

“Actually, no. There was this official letter waiting for me on my desk. It caught my eye because it said Pittsburgh.”

“And you’re going to talk to them about me?”

“Who said this was about you?” he teased.

“Stop being an ass, Brian.”

“Such a way to talk to the President.”

I groaned, not in the mood for a silly banter. “When are you coming over?”

“Next week. I’m waiting for their reply. I suggested Wednesday.”

I took a shuddering breath. “Think we could leave together? And go…home?”

“That’s up to you and if you’re ready to leave your hometown so fast. If you want that, I can clear off the rest of my week so I can be with you home,” he said quietly.

“Let me know what they answer.”

“Good luck with your mom.”

Little did I know that I needed more than luck for my conversation with Mom.

At the restaurant, I found Mom and Molly already seated at a table near a wall fountain. They had their backs at the door, and I took it as advantage to surprise them.

I bent between them, hugging them tightly.

Mom gasped, her hands going to her heart. Molly squealed, jumping out of the chair and hugging me.

Despite our differences, I had grown to love my little sister. She was a preteen now, having left behind the bratty child I used to know.

“Justin! You’re late. I thought you forgot,” Mom said, standing up and hugging me.

“I ran into an old client just outside the restaurant. Sorry.”

I sat opposite them, placing my drink order as soon as the hostess appeared at our table.

“Oh, you never said what you plan on doing now that you stopped working for…what was his name?” Mom frowned, fingering the leg of her wine glass.

I wasn’t quite ready to delve into the news, so I went with part of the truth. “I want to rediscover myself and focus on a new show. My very own solo show planned and painted by me.”

“I know you have a name to yourself, but do you think an art gallery would accept working with you just like that?”

I smiled in thanks when my drink arrived. I needed it more than I thought.

“Can we catch up while we eat? Then we’ll worry about my future,” I suggested.

The waiter took our orders, and it didn’t escape me the way his eyes linger on me. Apparently, it didn’t escape Mom, either.

“So how was your trip?”

“I bet you made the wrong impression if you watched the news.”

“You have to be careful. If people find out about this fling, he risks his whole career.”

I gasped, not believing what she just said. “You think this is a fling?”

“You can’t possibly expect something to come out of this, Justin. I thought you were smart enough,” she scolded me.

The food arrived, but the shrimp reminded me of the paella I shared with Brian in our hotel room in Madrid in our first evening there.

“If that’s what you think, then you’re wrong.” I downed my drink, hoping someone was going to refill it pronto. “I wanted to tell you after we ate, but Brian bought a house for us. It’s close to…his current residence,” I explained, not ready for the whole restaurant to hear our conversation. I had a feeling Mom was going to forget about being a WASP and start shouting.

She started laughing, which made me insanely angry.

“That’s so romantic,” Molly commented, mellowing me a little.

“I think so, too.” I smiled at her. I turned to Mom. “I’m aware we won’t ever have a normal relationship, but I won’t trade what we have for anything in the world. I love him, Mom.”

“Love?” She scoffed. “Justin, if I had known you would get in over your head, I would have had a serious conversation with you on New Year day, when I found him in your apartment.”

“He loves me, too.”

“Did he say that?” She challenged.

“Yes.” I glared at her. “Brian plans on coming out. For me. He’s ready to show the world who he is.”

She paled. “I don’t think America’s ready for another assassinated president. And for what? For a fling he has with a painter?”

I slapped the napkin on the table standing up. “I’m done. Do you even hear yourself?”

“You’re making a scene,” she whispered.

“I’m making a scene?” I shouted. “You think people are going to kill Brian because he’s gay? I thought you understood and accepted me. I was wrong, if that’s the first thought that crosses your mind.”

“Justin, you know I accept you. I’ve been supportive all your life!”

“You should be happy for me. I finally found someone wonderful to spend my life with.”

“He’s wrong for you. You’re from different worlds,” she cried out.

I was aware we were turning heads, but I was beyond caring at how angry she made me.

“You can’t change my mind. I’m leaving by the end of the week. I’ll leave all the documents for the condo in the kitchen so you can sell it.”

“Don’t make any hasty decision that might affect your future.” She was standing up as well, her eyes wild. She probably grasped how serious I was.

“My decision to leave has never been more cemented than now. I was afraid to leave behind my hometown, my family, my friends…but you know what? Anywhere is better than here.” I stepped closer to her. “Brian plans on supporting me to become an independent artist. He suggested I should invite you guys to the new house so I won’t get bored. So please stop trying to act as if you know everything. Because you don’t.”

“Do you honestly believe this relationship can last more than a year?”

“Just a few more months and it’s one year since we first met,” I snapped.

“Things will change when he comes out. You won’t be able to carry that much weight around.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.” I turned to Molly, crouching at her chair and hugging her. “I’m sorry, Mollusk. I can’t stay for dinner.”

“Don’t go, Justin. If you go away, I’ll never see you again.”

I touched her elbow, not letting her words get to me. “I promise to steal you away for a weekend in Washington DC. You said you didn’t get to see much during the school trip.”

She brightened, nodding.

I hugged her tightly, kissing her head. Then I stood up and faced Mom. She was staring at me blankly.

“Goodbye, Mom.”

“Justin.” She reached out, but I escaped her, walking briskly outside. I rubbed at my wet eyes. Crying was the last thing I wanted.

I walked aimlessly, thinking over the conversation I had with my mom. I couldn’t believe the things she said. I had no idea she thought so little of my relationship with Brian. I might not have had enough faith in our future, but I knew we felt strongly for each other. Brian's gesture in buying the house and his words of love had cemented my belief in us.

My feet carried me to the diner. I stood out like a sore thumb in my suit, but I had dressed nicely for Mom.

Debbie spotted me when I was trying to find an empty booth so late in the evening. She installed me at the counter.

“What happened to you?”

“Can I have some fries and a hamburger?”

She gave me a pointed look, before heading to the kitchen. I knew she would be back with more questions, but for now I had a few moments to myself.

“I saw you on the news. You’re the President’s photographer?” A young kid slid next to me at the bar.

I hung my head, remembering how Deb had warned me about the diner. “It’s just a job.” I shrugged.

“Must be fancy. So you actually know him?”

The kid wasn’t leaving. “Who?” I tried humoring him until Debbie returned with my food.

“The President. Duh.”

“Duh.” I mimicked, rolling my eyes. “Now scamper off. I’m busy.”

I wasn’t usually mean, but after the evening I had, I couldn’t tolerate any bullshit.

“Wanna talk about it?” Debbie asked softly, pushing the plate in front of me.

I picked a hot fry, dipping it in the garlic sauce. Thankfully, I stopped before shoving it in my mouth. I had a bad allergic reaction to garlic when we had dined at some fancy restaurant in Berlin. Also thankfully, there was an EMT around with an Epi Pen. I hadn’t seen Brian so scared before.

“Not a fan of garlic anymore?” Debbie asked. “Planning to hit the clubs and you don’t want to keep the tricks away?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m allergic to it, apparently. Long story,” I added, when she lifted a brow.

“Is there something you’re not allergic to?”

“Dick?” I shrugged.

We burst out laughing, and it lifted my mood tenfold.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said as Debbie replaced the garlic sauce with ketchup.

“Everything okay with You Know Who?”

“Perfect.” I smiled broadly, but my smile fell when she looked concerned at me. “What?”

“I expected a joke about You Know Who. Now you really have to tell me what’s wrong.” She leaned on her elbows against the counter top.

“Things with Brian are perfect. You already know I’m moving there. And you were supportive,” I exclaimed.

“Oh, so your mom doesn’t agree.” Her face fell. She touched my cheek, making me want to cry at the motherly gesture.

“She went as far as to say Brian would be assassinated if he comes out as gay. She also said we have a fling, and he can’t be invested in a relationship with an artist.” My voice shook as I spoke. “This just proves that deep down she hasn’t accepted me as gay, as a painter, as who I am. My mom doesn’t understand me at all, and I lost her for choosing Brian.”

“Oh, kiddo!” Debbie came round, and wrapped her arms around me. It was all it took for the floodgates to open.

I appreciated it that she didn’t say anything else, because there was nothing to say.

When I left the diner, it was close to ten at night. It used to be the time to hit Babylon, but I stuffed my hands in my pockets and shuffled home. Halfway there, I knew I didn’t want to be alone, so I stopped to think about where I should go. Daphne needed her sleep, or she was already on her graveyard shift at the hospital. Emmett was most likely at Babylon. That left Michael.

I found the front door of his building open. After taking the stairs two at a time, I stopped at his door, then knocked twice.

I was about to call and check if he was home, when the door opened. He looked sleepily at me.

“Shit. You were sleeping,” I muttered.

“Not anymore. What happened to you?” He stepped aside, inviting me inside.

I stopped at his wet bar and grabbed the bottle for vodka. He kept it there for when I visited, so I took liberties to drink from it, forgoing a glass.

“That bad?” He fell on the couch.

I sat next to him and told him all about my conversation with Mom. I was proud I had left all my tears on Debbie’s shirt. Michael didn’t need to witness my bawling.

“So this means you’re really leaving,” he concluded.

“This time next week, I’ll be in DC.” I took a pull from the bottle.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table where I had thrown it earlier. It was Brian. For the first time, I didn’t want to answer. I couldn’t talk to him at the moment without breaking down.

“Tell him I’m in the bathroom,” I instructed Michael.

“But that’s the President!”

I rolled my eyes. “Just fucking do it. If you don’t answer, he’ll send his goonies to check if I’ve been abducted or something.”

“I won’t mind if he sends Ben.” He picked the phone, answering it. “Hello, this is Michael speaking.”

I slapped my head. He was such a tool, but I guess talking to the President was intimidating when you weren’t intimate with him enough to forget about the title.

“Exactly, his best friend.” Michael grinned, beaming because Brian knew him. “No, actually…Justin’s in the bathroom.” He shot me a panicked look.

“What?” I mouthed.

Michael gestured between us and the phone. I groaned, prying the phone from Michael’s sweaty hand.

“I’ll call you in the morning, Brian. I had the worst evening ever.”

“So now you have a personal assistant answering your phone?” he teased.

“Goodnight.”

“Hey, what—”

I hung up, feeling like shit. Tomorrow – please. I sent Brian that text message, before switching off the phone.

We ended up working on a solid plot for the new issue of Rage. By the time I fell asleep on Michael’s couch, I was feeling a lot better than I had when I left the restaurant.

On Tuesday, while I was busy packing with Emmett’s help, I got a phone call from Carnegie Melon. I was invited to accept an award of sorts. I was so shocked, it took me a minute to say I would be there. I hadn’t expected to be involved in Brian's visit to the university.

I wasn’t ready to step all over my pride and ask Brian if he was involved in this award, because I hadn’t talked to him since I had hang up on him on Saturday night.

“Who’s coming to get you?” Emmett asked later, while we shared take-out in my desolately bare living room.

“Brian, I think.”

“B-Bri-an?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s been invited by Carnegie to talk about their best student since he has recently purchased a painting from him. And that’s why they called me earlier. They want me there to give me an award.”

“Act surprise.” He winked.

“I’ll do my best.” I checked my phone by instinct, wondering why Brian hadn’t said anything for so many days. “So…hypothetically…”

Emmett quirked a brow, smiling indulgently.

“If you hang up on your boyfriend, and he doesn’t say anything for three days straight…is it a matter of too much pride or is he too upset?”

“I thought you weren’t such a queen if the poor man hung up on you. He’s a busy man.”

“I hung up on him,” I admitted. “It was the night I had the fight with Mom. I was at Michael’s. I didn’t want to talk to Brian right then.”

Emmett gasped. “And he didn’t call back?”

“I had shut off my phone.”

“Are you an idiot?”

I scowled. “You’re not helping.”

“Did you try calling him?”

“Well…no.” I shrugged.

“You are an idiot,” Emmett groaned, slapping the phone into my hand. “Do it now.”

I was afraid to call Brian, knowing he would be super upset.

After five rings, the call connected. “Call you back in an hour,” Brian said in a hushed voice. There was rumor in the background.

“Sure.”

“So? What was that?” Emmett demanded when I put the phone down on the floor.

“He was busy. He said he’d call me later.”

“And he answered, even though he was busy. He looooves you.”

I grinned. “Yeah, I was an idiot,” I admitted in a small voice.

We continued packing, until my whole life was in boxes in the entry hallway.

Brian's hour had come and gone. It was night and I was eating leftovers while watching a random movie on my laptop.

The sound of keys in the lock made me freeze, then I was running downstairs. I tripped over something on the stairs, and landed hard on my knees right in front of Brian.

“Right where I wanted you,” he joked, but his voice sounded cool.

I stood up slowly, rubbing my knees. I had no idea it could hurt so badly to fall on your knees.

Brian took a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry. I was a tool.”

“A proud idiot, I’d say,” Brian whispered into my hair. “Come here. Let me see your knees.”

“I’m fine.”

He still installed me on the couch, bringing two frozen bags of vegetables from the kitchen. He sat next to me, taking my legs over his lap, keeping the frozen bags over my knees.

“Blake has a plan.”

I looked up at Brian's face. His features were barely visible in the dim light coming from the moon. If I wasn’t afraid he was going to bodily restrain me from moving, I would go switch the light on.

There was a knock on my door. I startled, but Brian called out, “Come in!”

A moment later, light flooded the room. Ben was standing in the hallway with Brian's bag.

“Leave it by the stairs. Thank you, Ben.”

“What happened to you, Picasso?” Ben walked closer.

“He threw himself on his knees when I came in.”

“I fell,” I muttered, blushing horribly.

“So did I.” Brian grinned cheekily.

It took me a moment to realize what he meant. I grinned back.

“If you’d point me in your friend’s house direction before I barf…”

I glanced at Ben. “What? Oh. You mean, Michael?”

“Yes.”

After giving him the address, we were left alone. I refused to let Brian carry me upstairs, even though my legs felt stiff from the abuse they had suffered. I took the stairs one at a time.

“I’ll tell you some other time what happened on Saturday.”

“I already know. Your friends are gossip machines.”

“But how could you know? Only Michael and Debbie know what happened.” I wasn’t aware Ben had Michael’s number, and even if he did, they weren’t yet that close.

“Let’s just say I borrowed Emmett’s number from Drew’s phone and found out Michael’s number. I was afraid I had killed him for a second, because he stopped breathing when I explained who was on the phone.”

“I can’t believe it!” I cried out. “They didn’t say a thing.”

Brian smiled mysteriously. “So your friend was kind enough to catch me up with what had upset you so badly that you would hang up on me.”

“I was afraid I’d break down if I talked to you in that moment,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry to hear you had to fight with your mother. She looked like a nice, sensible woman.”

“She is…most of the time.”

Brian pulled me into his arms. “Let’s sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I’ll tell you over breakfast.”

#

In the morning, only when I arrived in the kitchen, I remembered about Brian’s visit. He was at the kitchen table with Michael and Ben.

I had to rub the sleep out of my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.

Michael was grinning from ear to ear, which proved he had a night to remember. It was then when I became aware of slight pain in my knees, and looked down to seen them an angry red, but thankfully not swollen due to Brian’s insistence I kept the frozen bags on them.

“Good morning!” Brian grinned broadly. “Coffee? Doughnut?”

I noticed my favorite doughnuts in town sitting on a plate on the table.

“Oh, my God!” I grabbed a chocolate one, throwing myself on the chair next to Brian. “Thanks, Mike.”

“It was Ben’s idea to bring doughnuts. I was all for stopping by the diner to get pancakes.”

I turned my attention to Ben, trying to remember if I had ever stopped him on the way out of town at the doughnut house. It was a possibility. When he winked, he cemented my thought.

“How are your knees?” Brian touched one of them gingerly under the table.

“They hurt a little, but I can walk. I can’t believe I tripped like that.”

“If you’d have cracked your head, the headlines would have said you died upon shock of seeing the President in your house.”

Sadly, Ben’s attempt at a joke brought a tense silence in my small kitchen. Michael leaned to whisper in his ear, keeping his eyes on me.

It proved Ben had selective hearing when it came to what happened in the backseat of the Caddy. He had been there when I told Brian about the story behind Rage.

I intertwined my fingers with Brian's on my thigh. “You said you’d tell me over breakfast about the plan.”

Brian squeezed my hand, taking a gulp from his coffee.

“We’re going to show up together at the university and take it from there. Blake suggested we should act naturally.”

I choked on my bite. I wasn’t expecting for him to come out so soon. In my hometown.

Brian thumped on my back, staring at me worried.

I stole his coffee, talking several gulps to wash away the doughnut. I regretted it a moment later, having forgotten he liked the whole sugar on earth in his coffee.

“I have to dress up,” I finally said.

“I won’t bother with anything fancy. I’ll wear a shirt and dress pants,” Brian explained.

“No tie? Good. But I can’t wear a t-shirt like I had planned. All my dress shirts are rumpled and in one of those boxes.” I pointed to said boxes.

“Lucky I took two shirts with me. You can have the blue one.”

I smiled, returning to my food. I stole at look at Michael, and was happy to finally see him happy. We had waited forever for him to find someone after several failed relationships.

We went upstairs to get dressed, while Michael said he had to go the store. He made me promise we would see each other before I left.

When we made it outside the building, a while later, I stopped at the front door, staring at the Caddy.

“Come on.” Brian took a deep breath, pulling me after him by the hand. If anyone saw us, it wouldn’t matter. The whole world would know soon enough.

“Hello!” Drew turned from the passenger seat to wave at me, then he nodded curtly at Brian.

It never ceased to amaze me how close friends they were, but they still respected him.

During the short ride, I tuned out the radio talk between Ben and Drew and the whole security team. Brian kept an arm around my shoulders, looking out the window.

When we rolled to a stop in front of the stairs leading to my previous school, I felt a panic attack approaching.

Brian kissed me wetly. “Stay strong. I’m right here with you.”

“I should be the one saying that,” I said nervously.

“Don’t look at the cameras. Focus on my hand.”

The back door opened. Brian stepped out, stopping near Drew. I took a shaky breath, then got out as well. The shouts and flashes from the cameras reminded me of the last time this happened while we were away in Europe.

Then Brian's warm hand enclosed mine, squeezing tightly. He strolled confidently toward the entrance.

I was proud of my legs for not betraying me, as I walked along Brian, trying not to look around. Drew caught up with me, walking close to my side, while Ben was on Brian’s other side. I could bet there were snipers on the building, and the security guard we just passed was clearly part of Brian’s security. The old man who had been guard since forever had never looked younger or so in shape, I thought, amused.

In the entry hallway we were welcomed by the dean. The shock on his face was visible. It took him a minute to gather himself and speak.

Brian dropped my hand for a moment to shake hands with the dean, before placing his hand on the small of my back.

“Thank you for inviting me, Dean Thompson. I took liberties and brought the artist with me.”

I tried to smile, as I met the dean’s wide eyes. “Hello, Dean Thompson. Thank you,” I said, my voice shaking horribly.

The dean nodded several times, before waving to a hallway. It led to the ceremony hall of what I could remember.

“Relax,” Brian whispered, leaning into my side.

I stiffened further when we approached the big room. We had to cross the whole room to get to the stage.

It took me a moment to realize we weren’t in the room I initially thought. It was the one next to it. It led to the backstage. No unwanted interaction until later.

“Tonight – alone in our home.”

I peeked at Brian. His eyes glinted with mischief. But he had done. He relaxed me.

“I wasn’t expecting…” the dean stumbled over words. “We had something different planned.”

“Please proceed according to your agenda,” Brian said.

The dean disappeared on the stage. I looked around to see Ben and Drew a few feet away, hands over their earpieces, whispering in their collars. Then I looked at Brian to find him watching me.

“No regrets?” I whispered.

“None. I’d retire happily at thirty-seven.”

Ben cleared his throat, while I stared confused at Brian. I thought he was closer to forty, but my information might have been wrong. He never told me his actual age.

“Forty-one. Whatever.” Brian glared at Ben over his shoulder.

I grinned, looking away, knowing if Brian caught me he would be upset. All I knew was that age was a sensitive subject for him. Though, he had aged like fine wine, and I planned on showing him that for the rest of our lives.

I became aware of the dean’s voice talking about my academic studies and the shows I had during college, then how my career path led me to paint a life-changing portrait.

Someone from the staff rolled an easel past us toward the stage. Whatever it held was covered by a dark cloth.

“You didn’t,” I shouted when I figured he had brought the portrait.

“Of course, I did. I had to show the world how talented my man is.”

If my face got any hotter it would catch fire.

“Please, welcome the artist himself: Justin Taylor!”

“That’s you.” Brian pushed me toward the curtains.

I had never been good at this. One reason I chose this career. Talking to people was not my thing.

“Hello,” I said into the microphone at the center of the stage. “I wasn’t sure where this career would take me when I chose it. All I’ve ever known was that I wanted to paint.”

The dean made a hand gesture telling me to keep talking, so I summed up my career from the moment I left college to the moment I was offered to paint a portrait for a very important person. That’s when Dean Thompson interfered.

“Shall we bring the important person on the stage?” he asked, just as the curtains opened and Brian strolled to us.

If I didn’t faint or barf during this, I would call it a success.

Brian stopped near the easel, accepting the mike from the dean.

“Hello everyone,” he said warmly. “It was a chance encounter that I crossed paths with a painting of Mr. Taylor’s. It was love at first sight. I can’t tell exactly what attracted me to it, but then I searched his work and discovered what a talented young man he is.” Brian smiled brightly. “Maybe it was the idea of living in the same era with a contemporary artist of such talent and one of my whims – to have my portrait done.”

I ducked my head, as Brian pulled the cloth off the portrait. I peeked at it, as the crowd gasped. I had forgotten how beautiful the painting had turned.

Brian stepped closer to me, still smiling. I could feel my whole body shaking. This was it.

“During the hours spent together working on this masterpiece, I found something more important than my whim achieved.” Brian curled his fingers around mines, holding eye-contact. “I discovered what a wonderful, intelligent, funny man Justin is.” Brian turned to the crowd, who had stopped breathing apparently. Or maybe that was just me not breathing. “I fell in love with him.”

I squeezed Brian's hand, breathing through my nose. It wasn’t the time to faint. The whole world would think Brian was dating a sissy.

One – two – three minutes of silence. Then the questions exploded. More photos were taken.

Brian whispered to me to smile as he kissed my forehead.

Later that night we were naked in my bed, sharing a cigarette, scrolling through the news. The outcome varied. It was to be expected the Republicans wanted the cocksucker impeached. Some magazines had short articles posted promising details in the morning. Most of the gay magazines applauded Brian and were proud of his courage to come out while being the President of the USA. But even a few gay magazines criticized him.

Brian closed the lid of my laptop while I was raging about Out’s article. I used to like that magazine. They called Brian bad names, ending with #notmyPresident

“Forget it.” He placed the laptop on the nightstand.

“Your phone has been ringing nonstop ever since your speech,” I reminded him.

“It’s out of battery now.”

“Do you think that will stop them? Brian, when we get to DC…”

“I don’t want to see anyone until Monday. No one will disturb us.”

I wanted to believe him, but I had a bad feeling that he would be summoned to the White House when we arrived. I wasn’t ready to spend my first night in our house alone.

“If they can’t live without me there, you’re coming with me,” he said, as if reading my mind.

I rolled around, guilt eating at my gut. What if our decision destroyed his career?

Brian spooned me, kissing that spot behind my ear, making me shiver. “I love you, Justin.”

My eyes opened wide. I turned to face him, then I kissed him passionately. “I love you, Brian,” I whispered against his lips when we separated.

.

.

.

In the morning, I woke up alone once again.

When I arrived downstairs, the boxes were gone. Brian was at the window, his phone pressed to his ear, whispering hotly that he wanted to sue someone or another.

I felt like barfing as I shuffled to the kitchen. I couldn’t find any cup or glass. Brian had sent everything with the other stuff. I wanted coffee.

“Hey you.” Brian caught me around the waist, kissing my neck.

He was awfully affectionate, but this was him. I had grown used to it during our trip.

“Hey,” I mumbled.

“No good morning kiss?” He pouted.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth. Someone stole my toothbrush. I don’t even have coffee.”

“I wanted everything sent before we left. Come on, we’ll stop by somewhere to get coffee. There should be chewing gum in the plane.”

After the coming out show at Carnegie, we had gone to Debbie’s house where a small farewell party had been held. It had been a surprise orchestrated by Brian and Michael. I had no idea when they had become best friends and a scary duo at that.

So today we were leaving. No stopping for other goodbyes.

I put on a band t-shirt and my trusty khakis, the only things I had saved from being shipped with the boxes. I had a small bag with some clothes and necessities. Sadly no spare toothbrush.

At the front door of my building, I groaned loudly at the party awaiting us.

“Put your shades on your nose, and don’t mind them.”

Drew and Ben were on the other side of the door. They shouldered their way through the paparazzi, loading us safely in the back of the Cadillac.

“I feel like a celebrity,” Brian joked.

“I feel like having an aneurysm,” Ben grunted. “No offense, Justin, but it was much easier when I discreetly brought escorts to Brian’s room.”

“Oh, live a little!” Brian scoffed. “We need to stop for coffee somewhere.”

No one answered, but we stopped in front of my favorite doughnut house, I wanted to hug Ben. Drew demanded for us to stay put as he went to get coffee and food.

On the way to the airport, I focused on my coffee and doughnut, while Brian sipped from his mocha and scrolled through the headlines. He snorted out at some point.

“This is a good one. Hear this: Would Mr. Taylor become the First Gentleman now? Or this: The White House has seen a lot. All we need now is a Female President. Voting for Hilary Clinton anyone?”

“Glad this whole thing amuses you,” I mumbled.

“Oh, come on Justin. If we don’t laugh louder than them – they won.”

“First Gentleman,” Drew commented, slightly amused.

Brian clicked on that headline. “Oh, look! They already have us married with three point five kids. How sweet.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, same sex marriages are allowed all over the country,” Ben said.

“I’m aware,” Brian said tersely. “I fought for that vote.”

I plucked the phone from Brian’s hand. “What did you tell me last night?”

“Up for one more?”

I hoped Ben and Drew weren’t paying close attention, but when they laughed, I blushed lightly. “Forget about it.”

Brian slid closer, stealing a kiss. “I have to know what to expect when I get back. I’ve dodged Blake’s calls, but I’m afraid he’ll install himself in the guest bedroom if I don’t answer him soon.”

“After take-off,” Ben suggested. “Up for one more?” he joked, stepping out of the car.

“He’s funny,” Brian said to no one in particular.

We were ushered into the plane with just a few photos taken and a lot of questions shouted at us – left unanswered.

.

.

.

“You’re unusually quiet. Are you alright?” Ben came to sit across from me.

From the moment we had been up in the air, Brian had his phone out and was pacing up and down the aisle.

I kept my eyes out the window, fiddling with one of the safe belt’s ends.

“Justin?” Ben insisted, leaning his elbows on his knees.

I glanced at him. “What if we made a huge mistake?”

“Let me tell you a story about how close to outing himself Brian was one time. It happened toward the end of his first year in the White House.”

I nodded to show I was listening.

“He was at a private party. The senators had brought over escorts to entertain them.”

“Females,” I said, realizing why Ben was cringing.

“Yes. Brian kept fetching the young man who was there to refill their empty glasses. At some point, one of the senators joked that Brian seemed to favor their waiter more than the girls. Brian said that the boy was far more entertaining. Of course, the drunken men didn’t catch the not so subtle look Brian had thrown the waiter. That’s when I knew for sure he was queer. I had my guesses before, but I thought my radar was broken.”

I chuckled. “Didn’t you say you knew Brian from when he was a mere candidate?”

“The subject of our sexual preference never came up,” Ben said seriously, but there was a twinkling in his eyes. “When we left the party, I pulled Brian aside, asking if he’d like me to arrange a private meeting for him and the waiter. I had never seen Brian as pale as in that moment. I told him it was natural and I understood him. He accepted my offer.”

“Did you discuss it further?”

“Some days later when we were traveling, he asked me how did I know.”

“I found it so odd and funny when I found out that not only Brian was gay, but his top security services men were gay too.”

Ben squared his shoulders, straightening in the chair, looking somewhere behind me. “As we all know, our sexuality doesn’t define who we are or what we do.”

I jumped a mile when a hand clamped on my shoulder. I looked up to see a sheepish looking Brian.

“Sorry to startle you. Can we have a word?” I made to stand up, no idea where he was taking me. Brian kept me in my seat. “Ben,” he added.

I was aware my cheeks were burning in embarrassment as I glared out the window. I could hear Brian arguing with Ben and Drew from somewhere behind me. This plane was not as big as Air Force One and there was no place to hide.

Not long later we landed. I was given a black cap to keep over my eyes as we walked to the car.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, once we were alone in the backseat.

“I’m afraid I have to go to the White House. I know I told you to come with me, but it’s up to you…”

“People already know.” I shrugged.

“The news will eventually die.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“Until we’re yesterday’s news…we have a long way to go.”

I kept my head on his shoulder all the way to the White House. There used to be a time I was thrilled about my next visit to that place. At the moment, I was dreading our arrival.

“What the fuck?” Brian snapped when we approached his home.

“Protesters,” Drew said tersely as the car drove slowly through the masses shouting.

Brian hugged me tighter, kissing my head. “I’m all for giving them a show.”

“Blake might kill you,” Ben said seriously.

“Take us to the underground parking,” Brian demanded.

Ben spun the car toward the door leading to the underground garage once we were through the gates.

We walked to an elevator flanked by Ben and Drew. This building was supposed to be one of the safest out there. Though, all those movies had to have a root of truth somewhere. Ben and Drew were our shadows until we reached the West Wing.

I was too afraid to speak up and tell Brian that I would rather hide in his room.

No less than five people ambushed Brian when he rounded a corner. He kept them at a safe distance through a fierce glare, but they become our shadow, trailing after Ben and Drew. Near the door of his office, Blake strode toward us.

“Inside,” Brian muttered, strolling through the open door.

I scurried after him, avoiding the Marine at the door. His eyes were judging.

Blake slammed the door shut, making me jump. “I’d like a word in private with you.”

“Whatever you want to tell me, Justin can hear it as well.” Brian opened his laptop, then turned on the TV. “I want them gone.” He pointed to the crowd outside the gates.

Blake snapped his fingers. “Ooops. My magic is all dried off.”

“That’s something only Schmidt would say.”

“So now I’m not capable of making dry jokes?”

Brian spun to him, finger pointing. “Do you think I’m blind? I’m well aware of your relationship with my Vice President. It’s your goddamn job to keep this insanity from escalating any further.”

“But you took us all by surprise yesterday.”

“If you’d have listened to me when I told you that I’m going to show America who I am when I went to Pittsburgh…” Brian huffed. “Besides, we talked about it.”

“I never thought you’d do it. Remember, you had another desire to let everyone know about—”

That was news to me, so I perked up from my seat on one of the sofas.

Brian waved his hand through the air sharply. “We had both agreed that it would be a too great shock for the people to hear gay marriages were legalized and that their President was gay.”

Oh, it made sense, I figured.

“And now not only did you come out, you showed the whole country who you’re dating. Do you realize this guy won’t be able to show his face in a corner store without three armed security services at his side?” Blake pointed at me.

My heart constricted. I hadn’t thought about that, but he was right.

Brian met my eyes, and I could detect a hint of regret and sadness. His eyes moved to the TV. “If they’re not gone by morning, have them bodily removed. I have done nothing to offend their sensibilities.”

Blake walked backwards, muttering something under his breath, before he disappeared through the door.

Brian went to the door, exchanged a few words with the Marine stationed there, then returned inside. He paced for a few minutes then came to sit next to me.

“So no corner store shopping in the near future,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

There was a knock on the door, then two men stepped inside. One was tall and full of muscles, reminding me of The Rock, while the other was around Brian's height but more fit. He was also older than other Secret Service guys I had seen.

“Sir, you wanted to see us?” The first one spoke in a deep voice.

“Yes.” Brian took my hand, bringing me up to my feet. “Justin, please meet Hank and Thomas.”

They offered out their hands to shake mine, while I returned the handshake a little bemused.

“You’ll work closely with Matt in taking care of Justin.”

“Brian,” I protested, finally catching up what he was doing.

“Shush,” he hissed. “Ben will run you over the fine details of what this job entails, but let me make one thing clear: a single hair on his head is harmed, and you’ll wish you were back in the desert held prisoner by the Talibans.”

This was ridiculous.

Brian spun to me. “And if I hear you disobeyed them, you’ll be in heaps of trouble. I won’t be able to run the fucking country while worrying about you weaseling your way out of the security’s hands.”

“It happened once. And I had the security with me,” I reminded him.

“Don’t worry. None of them are going to repeat Drew’s mistake.”

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling like the berated child. I knew that I would get my own security, but not so soon, not so strict. Blake was right. The plan was faulty – people knew who I was. In fact, they knew everything about me.

“Hank, please escort Justin to my room.” Brian touched my elbow. “I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

I touched his hand, smiling. “How about you take your time then meet me at home?” I stressed the last word.

Brian nodded. “There’s a set of keys in my room. Please, do have a talk with Ben before you take Justin anywhere.” He kissed my cheek. “See you later.”

I left the Oval Office with my new shadows in tow.

“I’ll find Ben. You take him to Mr. Kinney’s room?” The one who I thought to be Hank asked.

“Sure,” came the curt reply of Thomas.

As I trailed along the fifty-something years old security man, I avoided all the long stares. When we reached the other side of the house, nearing Brian's room, I got enough courage to talk.

“So you’re Thomas, did I get it right?”

“I’m Hank actually. Here you are, sir.”

I had a feeling these guys wouldn’t be as friendly as Ben and Drew. But then again Ben wasn’t that friendly in the beginning, only after he found out I had a friend named Michael who he wanted to bone.

I didn’t linger in Brian's room. I took the spare keys for the house, then followed Hank out. He took me to a room where Ben was sitting at the head of a table. Matt and Thomas were there, so were several others I didn’t know.

“Christ. Why did you have to bring him in here? We’re going to discuss any scenario and we don’t want Mr. Taylor scared,” Ben chided Hank. “Sit.” He pointed him to an empty chair.

Ben escorted me out of the room. It made me feel more and more like I didn’t belong there. Ben kept a hand on my back as he walked purposely.

“Remember our conversation on the plane? I’m certain we’ve made a mistake.” I played with the keys in my hand, avoiding eye-contact.

“Stop worrying and allow us to do our job. You’ll be able to have the life you want if you listen to us.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Ben opened a door. “This is my office. Don’t touch anything. Just stay put and Matt will be here to get you when we’re done.”

“I could wait in Brian's room,” I offered.

Ben shot me a look that made me slump in his plush chair, head tucked into my chest. The door shut behind him.

I looked around, determined to ease my nerves and get used to this.

Ben’s desk was empty spare a computer, a landline phone, and his gun. My eyes stayed on his gun for a long time, before I got up from the chair and looked around the office. There were no pictures, though there were several awards on display. I stopped at a particular one, my eyes bugging out. He had the Purple Heart.

What terrible things had led to him achieving such glory?

Was Brian the one to hand it to him?

I was in the backseat of a Mercedes C class, zooming down the road taking me home. Matt was no longer the jovial guy I had come to know in Paris. His answers were short and professional. I tried telling him that we knew each other, but apparently now that I was officially dating Brian, everything had changed.

Thirty minutes later, we parked in front of the house. It was even more beautiful than in the pictures.

I opened the door and stepped out. Not two seconds later, Hank and Thomas rushed from the car behind us to flank me, while Matt rounded the car.

It took me a second to realize that I had lost privilege to open doors for myself. To apologize without words, I handed Matt the key set.

He snatched them from my hand.

We walked to the front door. I expected them to check the perimeter, but after Matt had the door unlocked, I was ushered inside. I barely had time to admire the décor, because Matt led me to the kitchen.

The small, white table with the four white chairs made me fall in love with the place a little more.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Taylor,” Matt said softly.

I sat in one of the chair. He sat across from me with Thomas to his right. Hank chose to stand by the sink, facing the door behind me. After looking at the other two, I noticed Thomas had his eyes out the window, and Matt was staring at me.

“No one is going to jump me here,” I protested. “Can I at least take a look around? You guys are ruining my experience in seeing the house for the first time.”

Matt pulled out a list and placed it on the table. “This copy is yours. We want to run it by you before we allow you to accommodate.”

I took the list, skimming over it. There was a lot of ‘Mr. Taylor is not allowed to’ and ‘Mr. Taylor should not be alone at any time’ and ‘If by some unfathomable reason something happens to Mr. Taylor, or he gets lost in a crowd, operation Extraction is in motion immediately.’ The list went on and on.

“Am I even allowed to breathe without you guys checking if I do it correctly?” I groaned.

“This is nothing to joke about. Ben said you’d be difficult,” Matt muttered.

“You know I’m not difficult! If you’re not up my ass twenty-four out of seven, I don’t mind company that keeps me safe.” I glared at him.

“Well, I’m not your company. I’m not your friend. I’m your protection – and so are these two. If you listen to us, we get along. You don’t listen to us, we’ll have a problem,” Matt explained quietly.

“Fine. Now can you leave me so I can have some peace?”

“We are not going anywhere,” Hank said sternly. “Maybe you didn’t hear Matt correctly. We’re your protection, Mr. Taylor.”

I stood up, heading to the door. I spun around when I heard their chairs scraping against the floor. “I dare any of you to follow me!”

I spared a look at the living room and sitting room, before I took the stairs to find the master bedroom. I closed and locked the door behind me. The canopy bed was soft as I crawled in the middle of it.

What the hell had been in my head to accept this insanity?

Why didn’t we think it through? Doing it so publicly, the whole country – fuck, the whole world – knew who Brian was dating.

I curled up, closing my eyes.

.

.

.

I startled awake by knocking on the bedroom door.

“Go the fuck away,” I shouted, ready to put up a fight. Couldn’t I get any peace? Did they have to come and check if I had been abducted?

“It’s me,” Brian answered softly.

I sprinted to the door, unlocking and wrenching it open.

The smile on his face fell when he took a good look at me. I hastily touched my tear-stained cheeks, then dove into his arms.

“Please make them leave. I don’t want them in our house,” I begged.

“I already talked to them. Ben might have not been clear. The house across the street is for the security,” he explained.

“Oh.”

Brian brushed the back of his hand over my cheek. “I’m sorry I upset you so much. It was never my intention.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to wrap my head around all…”

“It took me a while to get used to the security, but they become shadows in the background if you don’t mind them. There is rarely a situation for them to show their faces.”

“So I won’t have Matt on my ass if I go to the corner store?” I checked.

“Definitely not. I’ll have him murdered if he goes anywhere near your ass.” Brian walked me backwards in the room. He pushed me on the bed, grinning. “They’ll keep their distance. You’ll see that they’ll become your friends soon.”

“Matt said they’re not my friends. They’re my protection. I thought I was kinda friends with Matt after all we’ve been through in Europe.”

Brian shot me a puzzled look. “Damn. I wonder what Ben told them to scare them so badly.”

I rolled around so I was on top of Brian. “So Ben took me to his office while they had their little meeting. How on earth did he get a Purple Heart?”

Brian placed his hands on my sides, not meeting my eyes. “Why don’t you ask him? Now…time to christen this bed.”

I licked my lips. “Are we alone?”

“Yes.” He kissed me deeply. “All yours until tomorrow afternoon when I have to go to a TV show, then I’m back here until Monday morning.”

“Perfect.” I hurried to undress him, afraid our time would be up any moment.

Brian stilled my hands on his shirt. “My phone is downstairs. The country could burn and I wouldn’t care.”

I bit on my lips, amazed how much he cared for me, how willing he was to forget his job just to be with me.

By the time we were naked, I was a mass of neediness with desire coursing through my veins. Brian took his time to prep me, before pushing me against the pillows. I hooked my legs around his waist as he slowly inched inside me.

As much as I loved the slow lovemaking, I wanted more. I lifted my hips faster, and when Brian kept my thighs in a vice grip, I flopped him on his back, taking charge. I kissed his throat while bouncing on his lap.

We found our completion too soon, but I knew there was more to come.

“And when we met you were a Top?” Brian chuckled.

I blushed horrible. “I’ve always been a Bottom, but I never found the Top to satisfy me.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “You have a way with words, Painter Boy.”

I rolled on my side, tracing patterns on his chest with my fingers. “If I did, I’d be the Writer Boy. But words don’t come easy...so I paint.”

“Please keep talking in clichés.”

“You’re in a good mood, Mr. President.” I winked, diving in for a kiss.

“Fucking usually puts me in a good mood.” He stretched out, before swinging his long legs over the edge of the bed. He came to my side, taking my hand. “Let me show you the house. The guys said you locked yourself in here after hearing about your unfortunate future.”

I pulled on my boxers, while Brian chose to remain naked. I would probably never have so much confidence as him, but with that body, I would too be eager to show it to the whole world.

We walked around slowly, Brian pointing out rooms and what they could be turned into. We agreed I would use his study as my place to draw if inspiration stroke while at home.

“Can you give me the name of that friend of yours with the gallery? But don’t tell him I’m coming. I want him to decide based on my portfolio.”

“Let me give you his number, but you can drop by to the gallery,” he said.

In the kitchen we found Brian's phone on the counter. He peered at the screen, frowning. “Shit,” he spat.

“What,” I whispered, afraid to hear his answer.

“There’s a fucking dinner party at the Russian Embassy this Saturday.” Brian typed furiously, muttering when his phone pinged with answers. Then he simply called whoever he was talking to.

I busied myself by checking the cabinets and fridge. The pantry was fully stocked.

“What do you mean plus one,” Brian hissed. My hand froze on an apple I had grabbed. “Justin is not ready for that shit. And frankly, neither I am.” Brian groaned, leaving the kitchen.

I stared at my apple. Was I ready for a fancy dinner at Brian's elbow? Nerves swarm in my stomach.

Brian returned to my side, visibly upset. “Up for your first event as First Gentleman?”

I rolled my eyes. “Please never call me that.”

There was a knock on the front door. When Brian made his way to the hallway, I grabbed his shoulder. “Put some clothes on.”

“Like you’re any more dressed.” But he disappeared up the stairs.

I cracked the door open to see Ben on the porch. He pushed his way inside, sparing me a look. “Where’s Brian?”

“Upstairs?”

“What the hell happened to his phone?”

“If it isn’t Big and Burly, or was it Bulky?” Brian shot me a smile, descending. He had a silk robe on him.

“Bulky,” I mumbled.

Ben rolled his eyes. “I got a hold of Mrs. Wonderlust.”

I tried not to laugh at the name, not knowing who the woman was.

“Good. Did she agree to lend me some of her boys?” Brian asked eagerly.

“The price is absurd.”

“The price doesn’t matter. Did you get to meet these two boys? They look so much like Justin it’s uncanny.”

“You’re paranoid,” Ben exclaimed.

“Is that any way to talk to me, Bruckner?”

“When you lose all your sense, YES!”

“What’s going on,” I asked in a small voice. Brian wanted call boys that looked like me?

Brian turned to me, beaming. “I had this genius idea earlier. You gave me this idea, actually. I want to hire two escort boys as being you – tricking the press with your whereabouts.”

“That’s not half a bad idea,” I agreed after a little thinking.

Ben huffed. “Well, you’ll have to talk to Mrs. Wonderlust yourself. She’s not willing to allow some of her best escorts to be tired or unavailable if a customer wants them.”

“In what part of my speech was I not clear? I want them. As in I want them to ditch that old bitch and work for me. They’ll sign a non-disclosure contract and live in nice places.”

“Is that such a good idea? To trust them so much?” Ben checked.

“They’ll have a bodyguard each. They’ll be too afraid to cross them. I was thinking…Vinnie and Scott.”

Ben snorted. “That sounds better. They’ll live in constant terror with a Navy SEAL on their tail, but such is life. They’ll do it for the money.”

“That’s what I hope. Go back and don’t return without them,” Brian demanded.

“This gets all sorts of complicated,” I mumbled.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Brian was in a sour mood during the drive to the Russian Embassy.

The TV show he had been invited to the previous day was brutal. I had been in our home, shouting at the flat screen whenever the anchor asked some inappropriate question. Like, when did Brian have this resolution about being gay. Or, why did he choose a painter and not another politician or higher rank society. That one had earned him a speech from Brian filled with colorful words. I could almost see Blake and Rick strangling Brian for what he had said. Then the anchor had asked about Brian’s son, curious if he was indeed Brian's. I had a good laugh over his way of explaining as politely as possible that he was indeed Gus’s dad and that he didn’t even had to touch Gus’s mom in the process of creation.

Needless to say, he had come home close to one in the morning angry. I hadn’t been able to relax him, which resulted in the ticking bomb I had next to me at the moment.

I was afraid he would do something stupid if anyone crossed him tonight. I couldn’t have that, not when I was a mass of nerves. I needed him by my side.

When we arrived, Brian kept a hand on the small of my back, walking with his head held high, ignoring any outstretched hand. I stayed close, doing my best not to gawk at the grandeur of the place.

Vladimir Sokolov was the Ambassador of Russia. He welcomed both of us warmly. Brian had told me that Russians detested gay people, but we shouldn’t fear Vladimir’s reaction. He had recommended Brian some discreet places for his previous trips to Russia.

Vladimir’s wife was tall and slim, with sharp features, unlike her solid, round faced husband. Katrina immediately stole me, and soon I found myself in a room full of women.

“I apologize…I promised Brian to stay with him,” I backpedaled out of the door.

If they thought I was the ‘woman’ then they clearly didn’t understand what gay meant. I found Brian through a heavy door. The husbands were in here drinking vodka and smoking cigars.

“Where did you disappear?” Brian brought me back under his protective wing.

“His fucking wife thought I was the little woman and took me to the wives room,” I hissed.

Brian sighed heavily. “Whiskey?” He nodded to his glass.

“Whatever works.”

“So I hear you’re a painter,” one of the men said, joining me while Brian poured my drink.

“Right.” I glared daggers at Brian's back, urging him to hurry the fuck up.

“What is your name? I invest in art. I bet I heard of you.”

I sincerely doubted he heard of me. “Justin Taylor.”

“Of course.” The man nodded enthusiastically. “Kinney, you never said your man worked with Luke.”

Brian turned his inquisitive eyes to me, while handing me my drink.

“Luke Dawson?” I asked. “We painted a mural together some years ago.”

“Luke is Gary’s brother,” Brian explained, pointing to our companion. Oh, so I had Gary Dawson the New York Governor in front of me.

I had to get used to meeting such important people.

I couldn’t say I hadn’t met my fair share of low budget actors or entertainers, but nothing at this scale. I had to expect this since my boyfriend was the President of the Unites States of America.

As the evening progressed and we went to the dining room, I found out the other guests weren’t so happy about my presence there. I kept close to Brian, but when he was invited to talk business with the other men, I ended up with the wives.

They stared at me as if I was some rare exhibit, intrigued by my successful career and how I planned to continue painting now that I was dating the President. I made the mistake to say I wasn’t some kept wife. They stopped talking to me after that. The truth hurts, I figured.

I kept myself entertained with the wet bar. The bottle of vodka was getting emptier by the minute.

“Care to join me for a smoke outside?”

I spun around at Brian's voice from the doorway. I sprinted to him, stumbling a lot due to the vodka’s effects.

He stared at my glass. “I abandoned you to the vultures,” he said in apology.

“It wasn’t that bad. I explained to them I wasn’t a kept wife.” I shrugged, following him out on a balcony.

“I heard them complaining to their husbands about your cheek.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you are ever invited to such things, forget me home.”

“Unfortunately, you’re a package deal. Especially now in the beginning. People expect to see us together.” Brian inhaled from his cigarette.

“So I haven’t seen my shadows around,” I commented.

Brian glanced at me, at first confused, then he smiled. “Because you’re not supposed to see them. Just know they are there keeping an eye on you.”

I nodded. “Do you have to go back to these men?”

“If you want to leave, I’m sure they can survive without me. We’ve discussed what they wanted.”

“Yes, please.” I was pleasantly surprised he agreed to leave together, instead of sending me home alone.

#

I arrived at Artful Work on a gloomy Friday. Mr. Simon Walsh had accepted to see me in hopes to get a spot at his gallery.

Matt held open the backdoor of the Mercedes, an umbrella already open in his other hand. I kept the art portfolio close to my chest as we made our way to the doors of the gallery.

As I had grown used to his behavior when we were somewhere, he slipped away, supposedly looking at the art displayed. In reality, he kept an eye on me from afar. When we went to stores, he was the designated cart pusher, or if it was the small kind of store, he was always a few aisles away.

In the past few weeks, I had grown used to Matt accompanying me everywhere. Brian had spent a total number of seven days in our home. I hadn’t seen him in almost a week. He was at the White House getting ready for one of his electoral campaign trips.

“Hello! Welcome to Artful Work!” A woman dressed sharp approached me.

“Hello!” I returned her smile. “I’m Justin Taylor, here to see Mr. Walsh,” I explained.

She nodded. “Please follow me.”

She led me through the storage room toward an office space. She knocked on a door, then waved me inside.

I looked over my shoulder, suddenly uneasy not feeling Matt’s presence.

Mr. Walsh was at a sleek, chrome desk. “Mr. Taylor.” He stood up, greeting me. “Nice to meet you!”

“Hello! Nice to meet you too.”

“I half-expected you to cancel with this weather.”

I shrugged. “Why let it be an impediment for my future?”

“I like the way you think. Please.” He led me to a set of couches.

We sat down. There was a box holding a variety of tea bags on the table and a hot water pot.

We worked on our cups of tea in silence. I already liked it here, and Mr. Walsh was exactly like Brian had described him. Unlike other owners of galleries he wasn’t greedy for money.

“Should I show you some of my art? I brought only a few of the pieces that could be carried.”

He nodded, extending his hand. I placed the heavy portfolio on his palm. “I also took liberties to research you, Mr. Taylor. I hope you don’t find it as an invasion of privacy, but I know you couldn’t have brought over some of your bigger paintings.”

My heart squeezed. He knew who I was. Nowadays if anyone Googled my name, the search results would be linked to Brian’s name, not my art.

“There are some photos of most of my paintings,” I explained in a small voice, nodding to the portfolio.

I drank the tea while he looked over my art. At one point, he started asking about my old paintings, and I explained everything he wanted to know.

“You also wrote here that you dabbed with digital art.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, embarrassed. “That’s uh, something I did in college for money. I drew the art for a comic book. My friend created the plot.”

Mr. Walsh’s eyes widened. “Rage! I knew your name was familiar.”

“You’ve heard of my comic book,” I said dumbly.

“Of course! It was so refreshing to see someone daring enough to create a gay superhero.”

I scrubbed at the back of my neck. I wasn’t going to start talking to him about my shitty life back then. “I plan on picking up on reviving Rage,” I said.

“Let me know when the new issue is coming.” Mr. Walsh grinned. He closed the portfolio with a loud thump. “Let’s talk about your plans regarding painting.”

“I’m currently trying to find a studio in town so I wouldn’t have to turn one of the rooms home into a studio. Then I plan on going back to my favorite compositions: landscapes, still nature, maybe some portraits.”

I walked into the danger zone without thinking. I realized it only when Mr. Walsh seized me up with a knowing smile.

“Do you think President Kinney could be persuaded into displaying the portrait you did for him in my gallery?”

“You’ll have to ask him.” I chose the diplomatic answer.

“That’s fair.” He nodded. “We have quite a few empty walls, but I’m thinking you might need a whole section. Did you have the time to check out the gallery?”

I shook my head, dazed. A whole section for me?

Mr. Walsh took me on a tour of the gallery. I spotted Matt here and there, but my main focus was on the art on the walls. It held the kind of paintings you found in museums. I definitely didn’t belong in such a posh place.

“This is one of the sections I want to fill.” Mr. Walsh flipped the light on in a small room. There were three large walls and five dividers in the middle of the room. “What do you think?”

“I don’t belong here,” I blurted out.

“You have no idea how well you belong here, Mr. Taylor. The first painting I stumbled upon when I searched your name was Midnight in Paradise.”

I was surprised the first picture he had found wasn’t of me cowering behind Matt or hiding my face while trying to shop for a new couch. The couch had been one of the few things in the house I didn’t like, and Brian had told me to go shopping. If I had known what a disaster it would be, I would have stuck with the flowery patterned couch.

Half an hour later, I left the gallery after securing that section as mine. Their next art show would be in less than a month, but Mr. Walsh said he expected my new collection by later in the year when a big event was held there.

In the car, Matt kept it on idle for a while, checking his phone. I chose to do the same, and was surprised to find an email from Brian.

To: Justin Taylor
From: Brian Kinney
Date: July 2

Justin,

What do you say about a couple of days in Camp David? That is unless, you’d rather visit your friends in Pittsburgh.

BK

I had no idea why he wanted to go all the way to Camp David when we could enjoy his off days at home. It looked like he had some free days coming up.

While I was trying to understand the mystery behind his email, I realized the Independence Day was in two days. I wasn’t going to say no if he wanted to spend it together somewhere.

I replied shortly that we would talk at home.

Matt cleared his throat, making me focus on him. He was turned in his seat to look at me.

“Do you still want to go to the art supplies store?”

I was surprised he remembered I mentioned that in passing the other day. “Yes.”

By the time September rolled by, we had a nice routine.

Brian made a personal effort to spend every weekend with me, either at home, or at the White House. If I had to go there, it wasn’t much fun because he was closer to his job which held him busy until late at night.

Sometimes, he spent a few days at home during the week, too. It all depended on his schedule and if he could solve whatever problem from a computer or his phone.

I had turned the garage into my painting studio. Brian had tried to help me find a spot somewhere in the city, but I liked Matt’s suggestion. Because it had been his bright idea to convert the unused garage into my studio.

Between Matt and me, it took only two weeks to have the place just the way I wanted it. Ever since then, I had more or less lived in my studio.

Ideas came constantly and sometimes I had to stop my current work to outline a new one. I wanted to have everything ready for my show in November.

I had attended the one in August to see what it entitled, and it had been breathtaking. I couldn’t wait to be one of the artists displayed in Artful Work.

Brian was currently traveling for his presidential campaign.

I was staring at the painting on the easel in front of me, wondering if a tint of orange would ruin the blue hues or not, when my phone buzzed from the working table.

I wiped my fingers on my overalls's pants leg, accepting Brian’s call.

“Hey, stranger!”

“Justin, it’s a long story but you have to go get Gus from school.”

“Shit. Are the girls okay?” I hadn’t seen them often, only a handful of times since I had moved here.

“Lindsay was hysterical when she called earlier, but Ben answered because I was in a meeting. The thing is you have to get Gus and keep him home until I find out what the fuck happened.” He groaned loudly. “Just two fucking minutes, Will,” he snapped. “Right, I have to go. Remind me why I put myself through this hell again.”

“Because you like being the President?”

He snorted, hanging up.

Brian’s phone call left me feeling uneasy. Something must have happened to one of the girls for them to not be able to get their son from school. I tried not to panic when I realized I didn’t even know where his school was, but after a look at the phone, I knew I had to get a move. It was a little after two in the afternoon.

Instead of calling Matt, I rushed out of my studio and crossed the street to the little house our security lived in.

I knocked on the door, rocking on the balls of my feet.

Hank answered mildly surprised. He was dressed in a tracksuit, like he was planning to go for a jog.

“Mr. Taylor.”

“Hey, uh I just got off the phone with Brian. He told me to get Gus from school. The thing is…I don’t even know where the school is. I was hoping you guys could point me in the right direction.”

“School lets out around three of my knowledge. Here’s what we’re going to do. You go back home and change.” At that he gave me an once-over, scrunching his nose. “And I find out the kid’s school.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“See you at the car in five minutes, sir.”

No matter how often I told them to stop calling me ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Taylor’, they never listened.

In our bedroom, I tugged at my dirty clothes, putting on a pair of khakis and the first clean t-shirt I found. I stepped into my sports shoes, and sprinted downstairs and out the door. I locked up, and turned to find Matt at the backdoor of the Merc with the door open.

“Hey! Where’s Hank?”

“At home. I know where Gus’s school is. I used to drive him not that long ago, but things changed after our trip to Europe.”

“Oh.” Now I felt terrible. I had stolen Gus’s driver.

“Don’t worry. His moms are doing an amazing job with him.”

“Don’t they have security too?” I asked, curiously.

“Ms. Peterson doesn’t agree to it. It had taken a lot of convincing from Mr. Kinney to have me as Gus’s driver.”

“So now they drive him to school and back? No tail?”

Matt laughed, probably for the first time since our time in Paris. “Everyone Mr. Kinney knows and is close to has some sort of tail. Most of them have invisible tail which is better for their own good.”

“I wish I had invisible tail, too,” I mumbled.

“You’re too important to Mr. Kinney.”

I blushed furiously, keeping my eyes out the window.

When we parked in the school lot, I noticed there were teachers with children outside. They were probably waiting for parents to come get their kids.

Matt led the way to the right side. That’s when I noticed a forlorn Gus. Hopefully, he hadn’t thought he was being abandoned.

“Matt,” Gus exclaimed when he noticed my security.

Matt smiled brightly, crouching down so he could hug Gus. Over Matt’s shoulder, Gus saw me. His eyes widened, then he ripped away from Matt and wrapped his arms around my legs.

“Jus!”

“Hey, little guy.” I picked him up, despite how heavier he had gotten. “I have orders to steal you.”

“Awesome!” He fist-pumped the air.

I noticed Matt exchanging a few words with Gus’s teacher, who was openly gaping at me. That was something I would never get used to.

“We’ll be in the car,” I called to Matt.

“Is Daddy in the car too?”

“Sorry, kiddo. He’ll be back this weekend. He’s in Austin at the moment,” I explained.

“It’s really hot there, right?”

“I suppose. So how have you been?” I deposited him next to me in the backseat, buckling him up.

While Gus started telling me about his school and his life, Matt returned. Gus stopped abruptly, leaning to tap Matt’s shoulder.

“Maaaaatt?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Can we go do our thing? Jus won’t tell anyone,” Gus whispered.

Matt chuckled. “Sure thing.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“You’ll see.” Matt grinned through the rearview mirror.

“So Mommy is busy? You’re driving me again?”

“Yeah, your mom was busy. And no, this is a one-time thing.”

“I miss you.”

“I’m Justin’s driver now,” Matt supplied when Gus pouted.

“Matt’s cool.” Gus beamed at me. “Way cooler than Ben.”

“Anyone’s cooler than Ben,” I laughed.

Though, I had grown real close to Ben. The Independence Day free days had been spent at Camp David where Brian surprised everyone by bringing Emmett and Michael for me. His security men were more excited than me, in the end.

It was also over those days spent there when I found out the story behind Ben’s Purple Heart. To this day I wished I hadn’t asked. On his first mission in the Middle East, he had lost his best friend in a mine explosion. Ben had explained that it was his turn to explore the perimeter, but Conner had offered to switch knowing Ben hadn’t slept in over thirty hours. Not long after Conner had left their tent, the explosion had taken everyone by surprise. Ben had taken down no less than ten enemies that were closing in alerted by the explosion. He had sustained multiple gunshot injuries, but hadn’t stopped until all the enemies were dead and he retrieved his friend’s body.

After a stop to McDonald’s, we went home. Gus was in awe of the place, exclaiming that he hadn’t known his dad had bought another house.

“It’s for us. Of course, you’re welcome to join me so I don’t get bored while your dad is busy running the country,” I explained.

“Sounds cool.”

We ate in front of the flat screen, watching cartoons.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Gus started fidgeting. He was curious if his moms would take him home soon. So was I, but no one had called with instructions. I suggested Gus to wear one of his daddy’s t-shirts and sleep in the guest bedroom if he was tired.

It was half an hour past nine when my phone rang. Ben.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Hello Justin. I finally managed to get hold of Lindsay,” he said.

“Okay…”

“It turns out she and Melanie forgot their son’s birthday was this weekend. They’re in a frenzy to get everything ready. Brian already talked to Gus’s teacher and she said it’s okay if he stays home tomorrow.”

“Why? It’s Friday. I bet he’d like to go to school.”

“It’s up to you if you want to take him to school. It was a suggestion. Anyway, we’re returning on Saturday. Brian wants to make it for Gus’s party.”

“So where’s the party held?”

“I’ll text you Lindsay’s number so you can talk to her.”

“That’s better. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Goodnight, Justin.”

“Night.”

.

.

.

In the morning, I woke up around nine. There was a note on the table in the kitchen from Matt telling me he had taken Gus to school. I felt horrible.

In my defense, I wasn’t used to children under the roof.

After my coffee was brewed, I went to my studio. Not long later, Matt dropped by. He told me not to worry and that he would get Gus in the afternoon.

I wanted to join him, but I appreciated that he told me he didn’t mind because inspiration stroke around the time we had to leave.

I was working on my latest piece when the garage door flew open, and I jumped startled. Gus barreled to me, squealing.

“Matt told me I’m having another sleepover!”

“Yes. You know I don’t mind.” I ruffled his hair, immediately regretting it when I left blue paint on his brown locks.

“You put paint in my hair,” he said slowly, staring at me horrified. He looked so much like Brian in that moment, it was uncanny.

“Nothing a bath won’t cure.” I took his hand, only to have him wriggle out of my grasp, scowling at his blue hand. “Oh, come on, Gussy. I thought you liked to paint too.”

“You’re too messy.”

I laughed, ushering him inside the house.

After a bath, I had him installed in front of the flat screen with the take-out Matt had left in the kitchen. If I hadn’t been so caught in my paintings, I would have cooked.

While I stood in the living room doorway, looking at Gus wrapped in Brian’s bathrobe, his wet hair sticking in all direction, picking at his food while he stared at the TV, I realized that I didn’t have anything for Gus’s birthday. I wanted him to have something from me, because I knew Brian would buy him something.

I picked my sketchpad and a pen, curling on the love-seat, away from Gus. I drew him in all his adorableness.

When I looked up from my drawing, I noticed Gus fast asleep curled up on the couch. I put the throw over him, knowing that if I moved him, he would wake up. Then I went to the bedroom, getting ready for bed myself. 

Toe-curling screams woke me up terrified. I ran downstairs, afraid something happened to Gus.

The light in the entry hallway was on. Gus was sitting up on the couch, still screaming, while Brian stood frozen in the doorway of the living room staring at him in horror.

I pushed past Brian, crouching next to Gus, rubbing his back. “It’s just your daddy. Shh.”

Gus took a huge breath, finally closing his mouth.

I could see all the lights on in the house across the street, and before I could wonder whether or not they heard the screams, the front door was slammed to the wall. Not three but five armed massive men stormed inside.

Gus cowered into me.

Brian finally snapped out of his stupor, ordering the security to leave us and that no one was in danger. Only Ben lingered, his eyes on me and Gus. Brian had to push him out of the house.

“Fuck.” I heard him cursing as he locked up. Then he joined us, sitting next to Gus. “I’m so sorry, Sonny Boy. I had no idea you were on the couch.”

“You scared me real bad, Daddy.”

Brian pulled him on his lap. “Like I said, I’m very sorry.”

“You stink.”

I covered my mouth not to laugh at Gus’s raw honesty.

“I guess I need a shower. Let me tuck you in and then I’ll freshen up.”

“I can take him to bed. You go shower,” I offered.

Gus clung to my neck as I walked to his room.

“So what exactly scared you?” I was curious.

“There was a bang noise and then I saw someone in the doorway. Even when I knew it was Daddy, I couldn’t stop screaming.”

“Aw, buddy.” I kissed his head. “Do you want to sleep with us?” I asked, remembering that’s what I used to do when I was scared as a child.

“Can I?” His eyes widened.

“I don’t see why not.” As much as I had missed Brian more than anything else, we had to compromise.

I took Gus to our bedroom, getting comfy under the blanket.

When Brian returned in only a towel – thank heavens, he had the towel, because I knew him – he stopped in his tracks.

“Come on, Daddy. We saved you a spot.” Gus patted the empty space next to him.

Brian quirked a brow at me, as he stepped in a pair of boxers. He came to my side, leaning down to kiss me. “Missed you, Painter Boy.”

“Missed you too. I hope you don’t mind, but Gus is pretty shaken.”

“I’d be too if five armed gorillas barged into my house after I already had one scare,” he muttered, upset. “Just wait until morning.”

“Hey.” I caught his hand. “Don’t be mad at them. They had no idea we weren’t being murdered. Hell, the way Gus was screaming, I thought someone was chopping him alive.”

“Gross,” Gus mumbled.

I poked my tongue out at him.

Brian laid down on his son’s other side, snuggling him close.

“You still stink, Daddy. I’m really okay. I’ll sleep in the other room.” He crawled out of the bed, heading to the door.

I slid closer to Brian taking a sniff. Oh. He had drunk and he had smoked.

“That’s why I prefer to make a cameo appearance and not have him full time.” Brian laughed.

“So were you partying?” I asked curiously.

“After the rally, there was a private party. Politics and whiskey was on the table. There was this guy who kept bringing me glasses of whiskey like they were candy.”

“He wanted you drunk to take advantage of you,” I whispered.

“Little did he know I’m a Stepford husband these days.”

I chuckled, snuggling into his side.

Brian got handsy under the blanket. I was afraid Gus would hear us, but my need for Brian won the fear of being discovered.

.

.

.

In the morning I woke up feeling hot. There was a heavy weight on my chest. Cracking an eye open, I found Brian's head on my stomach, his arms wrapped around me. From the man who got out of the bed after fucking, he had come a long way.

I stroked a hand through his hair, and he stirred. I felt his soft lips kissing my abdomen. “Mhmm,” he hummed sleepily.

“Wow. I don’t remember the last time I woke up and you were in bed with me.”

“I think it happened last week,” he said in a rough voice.

“You were awake and on your laptop back then. Now you were sleeping.”

“I can’t sleep well when I’m not home,” he admitted.

“Aww.”

“Not a word.” He turned to face me, narrowing his eyes.

There was a knock on our door. “Are you guys awake yet? I’m hungry.”

“I’m the worst dad in the world.” Brian sat up, yawning and stretching.

“Coming, buddy,” I called out.

We didn’t bother to get fully dressed, just the boxers. I should have known by now that there was a possibility to find one of the security men in the kitchen.

Thankfully, it was just Drew. He was with Gus at the table, helping him pour maple syrup on a stack of pancakes.

“Spoil my kid, by all means,” Brian grunted, stopping at the coffee maker.

I rolled my eyes at Drew, then leaned over Gus’s chair, hugging him. “Happy birthday, kiddo!”

His eyes lit up. “You know!”

“Course I do.” I kissed his cheek. “So how old are you now?” I asked, even though I knew.

“Six.” He beamed, turning his focus on his breakfast.

Brian sat next to Gus with his mug, ruffling his hair. Gus grinned at him.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter and watching them. It wasn’t often when I could see this relaxed Brian. He was currently declining Gus’s offer the share his breakfast. Brian was always careful with what he ate to keep himself in shape.

“You want some?” Gus turned to me.

“They’re yours, Gussy,” I said softly.

“Drew made lots. Come on. Or you don’t eat sweets like Daddy?”

“I love sweets.” I joined them at the table, accepting a couple of pancakes. “Really good.” I nodded to Drew.

“If I hadn’t chosen this path, I was thinking to go professional in the football career or as a cook. But I guess the pleasure in playing football or cooking wouldn’t be the same if I did it as a job.”

I shrugged. “You’re talking to the wrong person. I’ve wanted to become a painter since I was three. It still hasn’t lost its charm.”

“I want to be a painter too,” Gus declared. “What about you, Daddy?”

Brian locked his phone, placing it on the table, catching my eye. I could tell he had no clue what we had been talking about.

“We were discussing what career we’d have chosen if we hadn’t chosen what we’re currently doing,” I supplied.

“Easy. I’ve always been fascinating with digital art and the creation of an advertisement.”

“Oh. Sounds wonderful.” I nodded.

“Anyway, we have a surprise for you, Gus.” Brian downed his coffee. “Are you finished?”

“What surprise?” Gus was already out of his chair.

“Let’s get dressed.” Brian scooped him up, carrying him under his arm out of the kitchen. I could hear Gus’s gleeful laughter from all the way upstairs.

“How mad is Brian about last night?” Drew asked, taking one pancake from Gus’s abandoned plate.

“I totally understand why you all barged in here. Gus fell asleep on the couch and he was startled awake by Brian’s appearance.”

“Oh. Poor kid. I tried telling the others it was Gus screaming, happy to see his father.”

“He was scared, Drew.”

“Yeah well. Matt was sure it was you screaming.”

I scoffed. He shrugged. “I’ll let the others know we’re ready to leave in half an hour.”

.

.

.

It took us an hour to get ready to leave.

We were currently piled up in the back of the Merc. Gus was bouncing in his seat, glued to the window.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused when we didn’t take the route for the girls’ house.

Brian pursed his lips. “Can’t tell.”

“Whoa! I’ve always wanted to come here!” Gus exclaimed a while later.

We stopped in front of a large building. It was an old warehouse turned into children playground. They were supposed to have all kinds of cool games. I knew of it because Brian had told me about it some time ago when we passed it on the way to the airport.

Before I could follow Gus out of the car, Brian pulled my hood up. The place looked deserted as I walked toward the building with Hank beside me. Gus was skipping ahead of us, holding Matt’s hand. When we reached the entrance, I looked behind to see Brian wearing a baseball cap, flanked by Drew and Ben.

Inside the building, there was a wide reception area and through a set of glass doors I could see the large room. It was decorated for a birthday party with garlands and balloons and a table stacked with presents.

Gus was glued to the door, waving at his mommies and friends on the other side.

Brian joined us, walking to the reception desk. The lady didn’t seem fazed at who was in front of her, which made me realize Brian had planned this for a while.

The glass doors opened and Gus ran inside, shouting gleefully.

Brian led me inside with a hand on my back. “We won’t stay long.”

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t mind his child’s birthday party, but when he gave me a long, heated look, I knew the reason behind our early departure.

“Brian, you shouldn’t have!” Lindsay approached us.

“I’ve told you for months not to worry about his birthday,” Brian replied.

We turned to watch Gus running around the room with the few friends he had as guests. They climbed on some kind of tree, but soon got bored and dove for the ball pit. I could say I envied them. I wanted to play in that thing too.

I realized I was standing in the middle of the room staring at the ball pit. Brian was at the refreshment table with Lindsay and a couple other parents.

“We missed you, Justin.” Melanie came to my side, hugging me.

“Yeah, we’ve been busy,” I said lamely.

“You know that you can visit us without Brian, right?”

“Oh. I didn’t want to intrude,” I said. As much as I liked them, I didn’t consider myself close to them. They were Brian's friends, his family. “Besides, I’ve been painting for the best part of the past couple of months.”

“That’s true. You’re going to have a show in November of what I hear.” Melanie smiled.

I nodded, telling her about the theme and what I planned on doing. Lindsay joined us, interested in my art.

After a while when I looked around for Brian, half-expecting him to be in a corner on his phone, I gasped. He was on the plush carpet with all the children around him, telling them a story judging by their delighted faces.

“You don’t see that every day, huh?” Lindsay giggled.

“I have to admit, I didn’t take Brian as a big child lover.”

“As long as they behave, they’re alright. He’ll get bored soon, trust me.” She winked.

I noticed the other parents on a set of couches chatting. “So they’re used to see Brian?” I nodded to them.

“Not really, but judging by how much we pay for Gus’s private school, we expect discretion.”

“I guess.”

When all the children were coaxed to eat something, Brian pulled me aside by the hand. “I’m about done.”

I laughed. “Don’t you want to stay longer with Gus?”

“He has the time of his life with his friends.”

After taking Gus aside and explaining we were leaving, but we would see him again soon, we left.

In the car, Brian invaded my personal space, whispering dirty things in my ear. I couldn’t wait to get home.

It was middle of October and I was finished with my new collection entitled Landscapes. I had painted all the breathtaking landscapes I had seen during our trip to Europe.

I was busy with thinking about the best spot to display each painting, as Mr. Walsh had promised I had veto over everything.

There was loud knocking on the front door. I abandoned my notepad on the kitchen table, going to see who was there so early. It was barely eleven on a rainy Thursday.

Drew stood on the porch, eyeing me warily. I could see Matt sprinting through the rain toward us from the house across the street.

“Hey! What’s up?” I stepped aside so they could come in.

“Get dressed,” Drew demanded.

“I am.” I looked down at my t-shirt and khakis.

“A suit would do.” He spun to Matt. “Get the others. Meet us at the White House.” Drew then turned back to me. “Today, Justin.”

Curious about why I had to wear a suit, I went upstairs to put on my best suit after freshening up a little. When I returned, Drew was pacing in the living room on his phone.

“Yes, I have him. . . I think it’s best if Brian tells him in person. . . Good. See you there.” Drew spotted me in the doorway and scrubbed a hand through his short hair. “Come on.”

“What’s going on?” I insisted.

“Brian will explain soon.” He opened the umbrella as I locked up.

Inside the car, I tried to coax him into hinting at what the fuck was going on, but he was tight-lipped.

When we arrived at the White House, Matt was there to escort me to Brian. He was in the Yellow Room, where we had first met. Matt waved me to go inside, taking his spot standing by the door.

I took a deep breath and went inside, not knowing what to expect.

Were we breaking up?

Was it too much for him?

Did he change his mind about being President and was dropping out two weeks before the election?

Brian was at the window, his hands linked behind his back. I could see how he tensed up when he heard me.

“Hey…” I stopped in the middle of the room.

Brian turned to face me, looking tired. I hadn’t seen him much in the past week. He had attended more presidential debates than I thought was possible.

“Justin.” He strode to me, taking my hand. He rubbed his thumb over my palm.

“Are you going to explain what’s going on?”

“You look beautiful,” he said, eyeing me up and down.

“Brian,” I hissed.

He suck at his lips, before meeting my eyes. “Blake got a fabulous idea. My scores will get higher and our relationship will be more credible if we…” He scowled, looking away.

“If we, what?” I frowned.

“If we made it official,” he said.

“Didn’t we?”

Brian groaned. “Marriage, Justin. Blake thinks we shout get married,” he spat.

I dropped his hand, gasping. “What?” When hurt flashed on his face, I tried to explain that I was too shocked to act naturally. “It’s not that I don’t want it, Brian. I never thought it was an option for me as I grew up…then I knew it wasn’t an option for us because…well…”

“Well, it is an option now.”

“I see you don’t want it.” I kept my eyes on his tie so he wouldn’t see I was close to tears.

“It’s not that I don’t want it, Justin. True, I never wanted anything like this, but with you…I want it all,” he whispered, stepping closer and embracing me.

“Then?” I asked into his shoulder. His familiar smell comforted me.

“I don’t want to coerce you into this just because I might get golden points with people who don’t even know me.”

“It’s a tie now, right?”

“I’m above Jeremy with five percent.”

“Let’s do it. For us,” I added when his face hardened.

“There won’t be a honeymoon.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You might have to move in here with me.”

“Are you finding excuses to escape it, Mr. Kinney?”

“We’re crazy, you know that?”

I beamed, kissing him with hunger.

A knock on the door separated us. Ben poked his head inside, nodding to me, then focusing on Brian.

“Are we ready?”

“Yes.” Brian took my hand.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused.

“To get married, dear,” Brian sneered.

“What? You mean now?”

“No, I was thinking next year.”

“But what about our friends?” I could feel fear gripping at my insides.

“We can renew the vows in the future and invite anyone you want. Now we’re doing all I hate: a political move.”

I walked beside him, trying not to freak out. I was getting married. To the President of USA. In a few minutes I would be Mr. Brian Kinney…or whatever it was called when two men got married.

“Can I keep my name?” I asked.

Brian laughed loudly, relaxing a little. Even Ben chuckled. “You can do whatever you want,” he said quietly.

When we got in the car, I became confused again. Weren’t we getting married?

“We’re headed to the City Hall,” Brian explained. “Relax. No one expects us so when we arrive it will be fine. I can’t say the same about when we leave.”

When we arrived, everyone was taken by surprise to see the President strolling through the city hall’s corridors. We were surrounded by agents, so I didn’t exactly see where we were going. We stopped inside a room.

The lady in front of us seemed to be the only person so far not taken by surprise.

“Hello Susie,” Brian greeted her, taking her hand. “Thank you for squeezing this impromptu visit in your busy schedule.”

She waved him off, smiling. “Hello, Brian. Glad I can help.”

Brian returned to my side, placing a hand around my waist. “Susan and I met in college. She was one of my few friends.”

I nodded. “Hello,” I told her.

Her smile brightened. “My! It’s an honor to meet the man who tamed the beast.”

I blushed, while Brian snapped at her to shut up and start the charade.

It wasn’t as painful as I thought. We had to repeat after her and sign on the dotted line. Everything else would be taken care of after our departure.

Judging by the agitated agents by the door, we had been discovered. Brian held my hand in his left hand and the marriage certificate in the right hand.

Ben whispered something to Brian, but I didn’t catch the words. Brian brushed him off, leading the way outside. He stopped before anyone could open the door.

“Shit.” He turned to Drew. “Do you have them?”

Drew placed a small velvet satchel in my palm.

“Open it,” Brian urged me.

I did so with shaky fingers, having a feeling I knew what was inside. Two white gold wedding bands. Brian held out his left hand. I put one of the rings on his finger, then he did the same for me. I didn’t want that moment to get away like it didn’t matter, so I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him slowly.

“I love you,” I whispered against his mouth.

“Love you too,” he whispered back, resuming our position from earlier.

When the room’s door opened, we were assaulted by reporters. Our security pushed them away so we could walk toward the exit safely.

“No interviews?” I asked Brian.

“Maybe outside if they’re nice.”

Outside we couldn’t escape. The stairs were blocked by reporters and people gathered to see what was happening. I did my best not to cower behind Brian.

There were a billion questions shouting at us, most of them curious of what were we doing there in the middle of the day.

Brian held a hand up, surprisingly silencing everyone. The ones holding microphones edged closer.

“Good afternoon,” Brian started jovially. “I see we can’t do anything without you knowing, huh?”

I kept my eyes on Ben’s shoelaces which were untied.

“This was supposed to be a private moment, but I guess I lost the privilege of privacy when I became the President.” Brian brought me closer, keeping an arm around my shoulders. “So you better hear it from us. Today, Justin and I decided to tie the knot.”

More questions exploded around us, and I braved a look up only to find everyone watching me. I returned to staring at Ben’s untied shoelaces.

I could hear Brian explaining that it was an important date for us and we wanted to remember it, and that further living arrangements would be discussed. This didn’t affect his candidature. He couldn’t wait to explore marriage with the man he loved by his side. He fed them all sort of bullshit and they ate it up.

When we finally made it to the car, I sighed in relief.

“You know, you’ll have to stop acting like a scared ostrich,” Brian muttered.

I glared at Ben and Drew for laughing at Brian’s stupid joke. “I have no idea how to act around them.”

“You learn. I hated the spotlight, but it came in conflict with my job…so I learned how to compartmentalize. You won’t get used to it, because every time they take you by surprise…even when you expect it, it’s just as terrifying as the first time it happened. But you’ll learn to live with it.”  

“I guess you’re right.” I nodded. “So you said something about this date being important to us. What was that?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out by yourself.” He smirked. “Last year…on this very day…you visited me for the first time.”

“Holy shit,” I gasped. “It’s true.”

Brian grinned. “So I’m off for the day. We can have a very short honeymoon. I have to be in New York at seven tomorrow morning.”

I laughed because what the hell could I do after that statement.

“We should switch our phones off, first. I bet our friends will set them on fire with calls,” I declared. “I mean, can you imagine Debbie’s reaction?”

“I don’t know about Debbie, but I bet Michael will faint,” Ben joked from up front.

“And Emmett will be inconsolable for not being able to throw you a party,” Drew added, laughing.

“Debbie might think I knocked you up.”

I gasped, choking on spit, because those were pretty accurate descriptions of my friends. “What about the girls? Gus?”

“Gus might be bummed he wasn’t there. But Lindsay and Melanie…they’d be happy to not be involved in the fuckery.”

“So we’re still on for renewing the vows in five years time?”

“Better let Emmett know that so he starts planning,” Drew offered.

Brian took my hand, kissing my fingers. “Anything you want.”

Before Christmas holiday, Brian suggested we should have a much deserved honeymoon at his residence in Aspen. What neither of us could anticipate was getting stranded there for eight days.

Brian had the genius idea to go by ourselves on this trip, which wasn’t such a bad idea at the time. I was sick by the constant company with some security man breathing down my neck.

Though, Brian's timing to release his men from their duty couldn’t have been worse.

Our trip to Aspen was supposed to be a secret, but I was forever grateful for telling Emmett in passing at the election party that Brian and I might go to the mountains to celebrate his victory and our honeymoon.

Of course, no one had asked Emmett about us. He was in another state. He was virtually no one to Brian's team. Until Drew cancelled their Christmas plans due to an emergency, which was President Kinney and his husband missing.

On our part, we had accepted our fate on day three since the avalanche had blocked all access to the road, leaving us virtually trapped inside the house.

We had food and water.

We kept ourselves warm experiencing the primal survival one-on-one act.

On day six, Brian joked that I had his permission to eat him if we ran out of food.

It wasn’t the most enjoyable experience, I had to admit.

One could do as much fucking until even that become boring.

We swapped childhood stories and talked about our future – if we ever survived this trip.

It turned out to be a honeymoon to never forget.

Currently, we were on a blanket in the sitting room, basking in the afterglow, watching the last embers of the wood dying in the fireplace. We were royally fucked.

“Now what?” I whispered, truly worried for the first time in the past week.

“The snow will melt eventually,” Brian felt around for his cigarettes.

“By then, Schmidt would be President, because you were declared abducted by the aliens.”

Brian sat up with a horrified look in his eyes. “Fuck.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “So, what’s the plan?”

Brian grimaced, turning to face me. “Up for one more?”

“We’re going to die here, you realize?”

“Stop being melodramatic. It’s been, what, five days…”

“Eight days, Brian. That was the last wood around.” I pointed to the now burned out wood in the fireplace.

“There’s still wood around,” he said pointedly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, because it wasn’t time for sexual jokes. “Are you willing to set your dick on fire?”

“Don’t be a twat,” he drawled, smoking slowly. “I meant…the chairs, the table. Someone is bound to realize we’re here. There are not many options for where I could have gone.”

“We haven’t told anyone about this! Now, more than ever, I realize the importance of security and why they have to know my every move.”

“Whatever.” He lay back on the blanket, frowning at the ceiling and holding his cigarette between two fingers. “Do you really think they’d instate the twenty-fifth amendment?”

“Who knows? Have you ever been MIA for eight days before?”

Brian palmed his cheek. “If we die, I vow to haunt Theodore for eternity,” he said in a shaky voice.

I was about to answer when a loud rumbling noise had both of us on alert.

“Another one?” Brian groaned, grabbing my arm.

The sound before the avalanche hit in the wee hours of our first night here was something ripped out of horror movies. Then came an eerie silence which stretched for days.

“I don’t think so,” I said warily.

We stayed quiet, listening to the terrible sounds coming from outside, before patches of light were visible at the window. Not a moment later, the windows were broken and a large amount of snow fell into the house along with several Secret Service guys dressed in skiing equipment.

I snatched the blanket to cover my nakedness, while Brian stood, grabbing a cushion to keep in front of his dick.

“I’d applaud your spectacular entrance, but I can’t.”

The men started taking their ski masks off, talking into their collars that they found Eagle and Warhol, and that we appeared to be unharmed.

“Good evening, Mr. President,” one of them said, approaching us.

“Evening, Brandon,” Brian replied, awfully relaxed for the situation we were in.

“We should get a move,” the man still standing by the window commented. “The conditions aren’t the best and the chopper might not be able to fly.”

“If you’d kindly turn around so we can get dressed…” Brian made a spinning gesture with his finger.

“Our things,” I gasped, hurriedly pulling on my sweatpants and the T-shirt Brian had torn in his haste to get it off me earlier.

“There’s no time,” the third agent said urgently.

Brian only had his sweatpants on, but he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. We took our battery dead phones, and allowed the extremely professional men to guide us outside. We were both barefoot, but I was the only one to cry out at the coldness.

The guy Brian had called Brandon swung me his arms, probably over and done with my hissy fit. “Follow my exact steps, sir,” he said over his shoulder.

I poked my tongue out at Brian, over Brandon’s shoulder. My amusement died down a moment later when Brian vanished from sight.

“Brian,” I shouted, twisting in Brandon’s arms.

The other two men pulled him from under a large pile of snow, and I could tell he wasn’t okay. He allowed one of the men to support his weigh.

The helicopter was on idle not that far away from the house, but the swim through the snow felt like we had walked for miles.

Inside the lukewarm transportation vehicle, we were both wrapped in thick blankets and offered hot tea.

“Are you alright?” I checked, bumping Brian's shoulder.

“Besides, fucking freezing, I’m fabulous.”

A phone was extended to Brian. “It’s Vice-President Schmidt, sir.”

Brian accepted the phone, shivering violently. “Theodore, I can’t even die in peace.”

“You’re alive! We were scared out of our minds, Brian.”

“It’s a relief to know I haven’t been replaced,” Brian said tersely.

“Officially, unofficially, I’ve been running the country for the past three days. It took us a while to realize you were MIA, and we couldn’t have the world to know we had lost our president.”

“I wasn’t lost,” Brian protested, sneezing loudly. “Can we do this when I get home?”

“Of course. I’ll gather everyone for an emergency meeting.”

As much as Brian wanted nothing more than to soak in his bathtub and regain feeling in his toes, he knew the meeting was more important.

“Who else knows about this?” he asked warily.

“The whole country. You were scheduled for several interviews and I covered your ass until I couldn’t anymore.”

“Fucking fabulous. Gather the press on the lawn. We’re going to make a dramatic entry and then a hasty exit. Keep the meeting for tomorrow.”

I held the cup of tea between my palms, rocking back and forth. A laugh bubbled up my throat when Brian hung up with the vice-president.

He threw me a dirty look. “What’s so funny?” he barked.

“Just imagine the stories after our adventure.”

He rolled his eyes. “All I can imagine is Ben following us to the fucking bathroom to make sure we don’t get flushed by accident. I have to make sure everyone will understand that it was our unilateral decision to go on this trip without security. Everyone will blame the secret services for how careless they are.”

“With all due respect, it was a childish decision, sir,” the oldest from our three rescuers said in a firm voice.

Brian pursed his lips, sipping from his tea.

When we got closer to landing, we were offered spare clothes from the equipment the team had in the helicopter. It wasn’t much, just thick black pants and a fleece shirt. We kept the borrowed military boots untied.

The crowd outside the gates was astonishing, and it showed how loved Brian was by the people.

Inside the gates, there was a group of reporters waiting for interviews, but what caught my eyes as we landed was two stoic figures near the helipad.

As soon as we touched down, Brian was up and he jumped out of the chopper. I followed him on shaky legs, because after all, this had been my first trip in a helicopter.

I allowed Drew to help me down, while I refused to meet his eyes.

Brandon brought our blankets, for which I was grateful since the December night was merciless, especially after our adventure through the snow.

Brian extended a hand to me, and I took it, before we walked to the press. Ben and Drew were right behind us, and their silence terrified me. I noticed Matt and Hank near a pillar, eyes on me.

Brian stopped behind the microphone, holding his free hand up. “Good evening,” he said softly. “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “We’ve decided to celebrate our honeymoon in my Aspen residence. Let’s leave it at: Mother Nature offered the President a secluded romantic gateway.”

There were some laughs and a general rumor of excitement and anxiety.

“I will take no further questions.” He sneezed loudly, before smiling shyly. Several voices blessed him. “Thank you,” he answered courteously, then he steered me inside the house.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Blake taking Brian's place behind the microphone trying to stop the chaos of questions being shouted at us.

“Not a single word,” Brian said to Ben when he stepped closer to us. “I’d like cold medicine and hot tea into our room,” he told one of the staff members standing pressed against a wall.

The woman nodded hurriedly and disappeared out of view.

Two sets of footsteps followed us, until Brian stopped in front of the presidential bedroom. “Go inside. Start a bath,” he whispered, nudging me to the door.

I hated that he was going to fight with Ben and Drew. My feet kept me rooted just inside the room.

“What.” I heard Brian's lifeless voice say, which meant he had no fight left in him. “Say you’re disappointed. Say you’re going to resign. Say something, don’t just stare at me, Bruckner!”

“We thought you were killed!” Ben’s words knocked out what little breath I had in my lungs. “We thought someone abducted you for ransom,” he continued in a hard voice. “I haven’t slept since the day I understood you were missing, which was after two days of no sign of life from either of you.”

“I wasn’t missing,” Brian groaned. “Like I said outside, my decision to give Justin a romantic, secluded honeymoon turned out to be more than we bargained.”

“It’s no joke, Brian. I’m at cross-swords with everyone from stalling them from replacing you with the vice-president.”

“Thank you,” Brian said sincerely. “Anyway, how did you figure out where we were?”

“Is that all you have to say?” Ben spat.

“I had to cancel my plans with Emmett, and while I didn’t want to alert him about you and Justin being missing, I mentioned it had to do with your absence. He was put out we couldn’t go skiing like I had promised him, and hopefully bump into you. That’s when he told me how Justin mention to him in passing that you planned on spending some time in Aspen,” Drew explained.

I had to hug Emmett extra hard next time I saw him.

“Thank you, Betty. Take them inside,” Brian's voice talking to the woman bringing our warm beverage had me sprinting to the bathroom.

While the bathtub filled, I sat on the closed toilet seat, hugging myself. The adrenaline rush from our rescuing was dying off, and I could feel my body going into shock.

For the first time in days, I realized we could have died in there.

“Justin!” Brian's loud voice and his cool hands gripping my wrists grounded me. “Breathe with me,” he said softly.

It took several tries to even my breathing, before I collapsed into his arms, sobbing. He hugged me tightly, rubbing my back.

“Shh. We’re safe. We’ll face the consequences of our trip to Aspen in the morning. For now, let’s warm up and sleep.”

“I heard what Ben told you,” I gasped out. “He’s so right.”

“But we survived. Nothing bad happened.”

Brian undressed us and we sank into the hot water. He kept me in his arms for so long the water started cooling.

When we returned to the bedroom, he brought a plate of cheese to the bed, along with two steaming cups of tea and cold meds.

“My allergies could have kicked in,” I said around a piece of cheddar cheese.

“But they didn’t.”

“We could have died of hypothermia.”

“Justin. Forget it. Let’s focus on the future, which isn’t bright at all.” He scrolled through his phone. “My end of the year is filled with meetings, and I can’t escape a visit to Buckingham in the first week of January. I kept postponing it, but Cynthia can’t seem to push it around anymore.”

I decided to take a leaf out of his book and stop thinking of the past. I had a show to plan for mid-January.

Later, there was a knock on the door, and I went to answer, while Brian was in the bathroom. Ben seemed to have mollified, but his blue eyes were hard to read. He offered me his phone.

“I think your battery died, because I had your mother calling me. She called Debbie, who asked Michael for my number.”

I was surprised to hear my mother wanted to speak to me after her speech some months ago.

“I’ll call her from my phone. Thanks,” I said softly.

He nodded curtly, spinning on his heels.

“Ben,” I called after him. After checking if Brian was still in the bathroom, I stepped out of the room, wrapping the bathrobe tighter around my waist. “I told Brian it was stupid not to tell you or Drew.”

He turned and narrowed his eyes, reminding me of how much he hated me in the beginning. “You know, Justin…Brian has never acted so volatile and reckless before he met you. I’ve lost count of how many moronic decisions he has taken since you came into his life. Somehow, he’s still here, which is a wonder.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is it my fault he wanted to be normal for a few days? To forget about carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders?”

“Of course, I knew you’d take it personally. I was just stating a fact.”

“Maybe you are jealous you can’t be with Michael, and you unjustly decided to take your envy on me,” I said pointedly. “You can ask him to move to DC, I’m sure he won’t say no.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped.

The doors behind me were snatched open. Brian's hands cupped my shoulders as he pulled me against his warm chest. “You’re fired,” he said firmly. “I will not accept anyone from my staff speaking like that to my husband.”

Ben stared at Brian incredulously.

Brian squeezed my shoulders, before looking down the hallway. “Hey, Marine. I want Bruckner removed from the property.”

“Brian…” Ben said, shocked.

“That’s Mr. President to you. Come on, Justin.”

“Wait, wait.” I kept a hand on Brian's chest. “Wait,” I repeated loudly when the marine guarding our corridor complied to Brian's orders. I didn’t know his name, sadly. “Stop! You can’t fire your head of security.”

“I just did.” Brian tried to steer me into our bedroom.

“No.” I noticed remorse in Ben’s eyes. “I baited him. You most likely heard what I told Ben. I wanted to get a reaction out of him, because I couldn’t stand the silence and the cold shoulder they have been giving us.” I turned to Ben. “Ever since we landed, I felt seventeen and scolded by my parents for staying out too late. I’d like to think we are all mature people here. Just say what the fuck you have to say.”

“He said plenty,” Brian muttered.

“Say we were idiots for leaving without telling anyone,” I continued. “Tell Brian he is grounded and you’re going to follow him to the toilet if need be. Just say fucking something.”

Ben cleared his throat. “As the former head of your security, Mr. President, I felt like the biggest failure in the world when we couldn’t find what had happened to you. I haven’t felt so helpless since Iraq.”

Brian waved to the marine to release Ben from his grasp, before he pulled Ben in a hug. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

I caught the marine’s eye, and he looked moved by the exchange between Ben and Brian.

“Now, go to bed. We have some rules to redefine in the morning. You’re…un-fired.”

I snorted, and even the marine behind Ben cracked a smile at Brian's lame joke.

Ben nodded through tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry for the things I said.”

“You were right. I have been acting out of character ever since I met Justin, but I guess love makes you act irrationally.” Brian shrugged. “Now go. Both of you.”

I ran to Ben who was about to turn around and leave, and surprised him with a hug. “My suggestion still stands.”

“I might have that talk to Michael. Sorry again, Justin.”

While Ben and the marine turned the corner, I returned to Brian, and we went into our room.

“You’re too much, you know.”

“Your temper will land you in a shitload of trouble, Mr. President,” I teased. “You should be so glad to have me around to save you from yourself.”

The following morning, I called my mother after breakfast with Brian on the patio. He had to abandon me halfway through our meal when Ted demanded his presence in the meeting he had scheduled for nine o’clock.

We hadn’t slept much.

The rescue team had saved us around ten at night, and by the time we arrived at the White House and with the whole debacle that waited for us, it was past three in the morning when we had fallen asleep.

“Justin, honey,” Mom cried in relief when the call connected. “I’ve been worried sick.”

I hadn’t spoken to her in almost half a year, and I would lie if I said I hadn’t missed her. Us, speaking again, could have happened under different circumstances.

“Hello, Mom,” I said in greeting.

“Oh, honey! Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No…just feeling stuffed up. We might have gotten a cold out of this adventure.” I sipped from my coffee, watching as Bruce did laps of the lawn, enjoying the snow.

“All I could think was all the awful things I said to you. I’m so sorry, Justin.”

“Have you changed your mind about how you feel regarding our relationship?” I had to know if I could entertain any ray of hope in her ever accepting me.

“Molly was so upset about how you left that day, she didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

I was aware of that. I had convinced my sister to forgive our mother for not knowing better.

“I was so wrong, Justin. President Kinney must love you a lot for how he came out, then I had to find out from the TV that my son got married. I was showing a potential customer the TV was working in the apartment he wanted to buy, when I saw you and the President telling the whole world you got married.” Her scandalized voice made me laugh.

“The invitation must have gotten lost in the mail,” I mumbled.

“Oh, Justin. Can you ever forgive me?” She sounded heartbroken.

I ran a hand through my hair, leaning back on the legs of the chair. “Let me talk to Brian, but clear your schedule, just in case. We wanted to bring our friends to Camp David for Christmas,” I said slowly.

“You want me there,” she gasped.

“Well, didn’t you just say you missed me and you wanted to beg for forgiveness to both of us?”

“Did you tell him what I said?”

“I don’t keep secrets from my husband,” I muttered, leaning across the table to grab Brian's abandoned cigarettes. “Listen, I’ll let you know what we decide. I have to get ready. I have somewhere to be.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. I had promised Lindsay to volunteer at handing gifts to children at an orphanage.

Brian had joked that I took my role as the dotting wife too seriously. But it was my pleasure to help the children, to make them happy. I loved charity work, because I knew the ones at the receiving end didn’t have any expectations.

“Of course. Take care, honey.”

After we hung up, I put the phone next to my plate. That was the moment I noticed the date on the small screen.

We were supposed to be in Aspen for five days tops, but we ended up being there for eight. I had completely missed my birthday, what with the battery dying.

I tried to remember how we spent day seven, which had been my birthday, but I came up blank. Our time stranded there blended in together making my head hurt.

I knew Brian was busy, but I had to share with him how we had failed to celebrate the day I was born.

What did we do on day 7? I just realized that was my birthday.

His reply came after I finished my cigarette, in form of an emoticon covering its mouth in horror.

The news of it being December twenty-third also meant I had completely missed the appointment at the orphanage. Which led to a long phone call with Lindsay where I apologized for not helping her, and she shushed me, saying all that mattered was Brian and I were safe.

After calling Daphne and Emmett too, I returned to our bedroom with Bruce.

I occupied my time with sketching the dog who had fallen asleep under the desk.

Brian came back in the early afternoon. He immediately took off his shirt, throwing it toward the hamper and missing by a foot. To my surprise, he didn’t pick it from where it had landed.

“I’m headed to the gym. Wanna join me?”

Something had upset him during his meeting, and he had to burn off some steam.

“Only if we hit the sauna after,” I said playfully.

He stopped from rummaging through his closet for a sweatshirt, and turned to stare at me in surprise.

“Raincheck. I just got a better partner.” He took the in-ear headphone out of his ear. “You better not be all talk no action, Painter Boy.”

“Shit.” I felt like a tool. “Who did you just cancel on? I’ll never get used to that ear piece.”

“Don’t worry. It’s just Ben, and he wasn’t in the mood to spot me, so you better live to my expectations.”

“Do you want me to spot you?” I cried out. “I’ll decapitate you with the heavy weighs.”

“And you were just back in Ben’s good graces,” he lamented.

“Brian, I’m serious.” I knew my strength, and I knew what Brian could lift. I had seen him and Ben at the gym. Hell, I touched and admired his muscled arms every chance I got.

“Get a move, Justin. We’re having dinner with Schmidt and Wyzecki at seven. Plenty of time for a work out and then a steamy sauna session.”

“I’m not spotting you,” I insisted, as I changed into work-out clothes.

“Anything you say, dear,” Brian joked, leaning closer to kiss me. He pulled away before I could open his lips, and even turned his head to the side. A moment later he sneezed four times in a row. “Fuck me. I’ve been sneezing the whole morning.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. And I feel stuffed up, we’re definitely coming down with something.” I rubbed his back soothingly.

We walked slowly to the gym, talking about my phone call to Mom. As we approached the stairs, an agent appeared from around a corner scaring the crap out of me.

Brian squeezed my fingers, as he rolled his eyes to the security man. “We’re going for a run in the gym.”

The man nodded, but followed us to the underground level.

I tried to keep up the conversation I was having with Brian, but I was aware of the man’s eyes on us.

When we stepped into the gym, Brian wriggled his fingers at the security man, closing the doors in his face. “Remind me why I didn’t fire Ben for good.”

“You mean that’s Ben’s idea? To have us followed even inside the house?” I gasped.

“We’re the delinquents, Justin. We have to be supervised so we don’t abandon ship while it sinks.”

I snorted, heading to the stationary bike.

Brian got on the treadmill after turning on the music on the audio system by the door.

“So…are we still on for the reunion with our friends at Camp David?” I asked curiously.

“I guess, unless Ben decides we shouldn’t leave the house for the foreseeable future.”

“He’s welcome to join us. Especially when we plan on bringing Michael.” I winked.

“Would you mind calling everyone to ask if they still want to come? I have a morning talk show and then around noon, I’m scheduled for the national television to wish everyone a happy Christmas and yada yada. Fuck,” he groaned. “I think I lost the speech they wrote for tomorrow.”

“Careful what you improvise.”

“I’ll ask for another. It’s fine.”

We lapsed in silence for a couple of songs.

“Can I ask Mom to come for Christmas?” I asked after overthinking this subject.

“Of course, Justin. I’d actually like to prove to her how much I love her son and that I’m willing to forgive her for hurting you.”

“And for saying you’ll be assassinated when everyone finds out you like dick,” I reminded him bitterly.

He smiled indulgently, stepping away from the treadmill. He came to me with his white towel hanging around his shoulders. He cupped the back of my head, bringing me closer so we could kiss.

“You look hot on the bike.”

I flushed as sparks of arousal coursed through my body.

His hand dropped to my bicep, squeezing it. “Let’s work those arms, too.”

I allowed him to pull me away, nerves making my stomach tiny.

“Lay down.” He pointed to the bench press.

Brian worked on taking away most of the heavy weighs, before he took the spot above my head. He lifted the barbell easily, and when I took it in my hands, I felt my weak muscles making my arms shake uncontrollably.

“Shit. I can’t.” I panicked when my right hand cramped up. As an aftermath of the bashing I had suffered from the worst homophobe in school, my right hand stopped cooperating when it got tired.

Brian immediately saved me, and crouched at my head, stroking my hair. “I didn’t think it would hurt your hand,” he apologized.

I sat up, running an end of the towel around my neck over my eyes to get rid of the unwanted tears. I felt like a failure in that moment.

“I hope you’re not crying,” Brian said gently.

I gritted my teeth together.

“Justin…” He came to my side, squeezed my shoulder and tilting my head with a finger under my chin. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t deserve what happened.”

I had sugar coated my story to him about my bashing. It wasn’t like I knew exactly what happened, because I couldn’t remember anything. But shortly after my confession to Brian, he had searched the internet about details.

“Let’s hit the sauna,” he suggested softly.

#

We ended up late for dinner, but Brian had managed to help me relax thoroughly.

After we repeated with details the story behind our time buried in snow in Aspen, we moved on to other topics, for which I was grateful. I knew we were going to have to retell the story several more times, but after putting aside my fears about what could have happened, the events leading to us getting stranded there became a boring subject.

We were waiting for dessert, enjoying the privacy of the secluded section of the select restaurant we were dining in, when I caught sight of Drew and Matt leaving their spots. Ben stood next to the large potted plant, his eyes focused in the direction the others had gone.

I wasn’t the only one to notice the activity from our security. Blake had a better view than me to the world outside out secluded spot.

“Mr. Taylor,” Matt said softly. “I apologize for interrupting. There is someone here who spotted you and insists he is a big fan of yours.”

Brian lifted a brow at me, pressing his tongue inside his cheek.

I shrugged, following Matt away from our group. I gasped in surprise at the person in front of me. It was one of my former acquaintances, who I had lost touched when he had moved out of Pittsburgh some years ago. Billy used to play the piano at most of my shows.

“Billy!” I hugged him tightly.

“Hi, Justin. Damn, you’re hard to get a hold of,” he joked.

I glanced at Matt, who was hovering. I knew he wasn’t likely to move away. “Well…you know…”

“Oh, you’re with him?”

Of course, the whole world knew who I had by my side.

I glanced behind my shoulder, but found Ben and Drew shoulder to shoulder blocking everyone’s view to our table.

“Uh, are you in town? Do you have a gig?”

“Working out the details for one. I was invited to play for a charity concert on New Year’s night,” Billy answered.

“If we’re in town, I’d love to come by,” I promised. “Here, type your number.” I handed him my phone.

I heard Matt clearing his throat, and met his eyes. He shook his head slowly.

“I’ll call you,” I told Billy. “It was great to see you.”

“You too, Justin.”

Once he departed, Matt held out his hand, wriggling his fingers.

“I’m entitled to have friends outside Brian's circle,” I spat.

He pressed his lips tightly, as I stepped around Ben and returned to my chair.

“Sorry about that. It was someone I used to know from Pittsburgh,” I explained.

Brian threw an arm around the back of my chair, continuing his conversation with Ted about the budget campaign. I idly wondered if he was capable to hold a conversation with Ted or anyone from his team that didn’t have to do with work. Especially when it was outside working hours.

Christmas time at Camp David was something else.

Michael agreed to move to DC in order to be close to Ben.

Emmett eagerly agreed to become Drew’s kept boy, though, by the end of the conversation, he was planning to throw parties for politicians.

I had the much-anticipated chat with my mother, and we put aside all her worries. Brian showed her at every turn how much he loved me and how I wasn’t a fling for him. He had shown the whole country I wasn’t a fling when he married me and came out. He could have lost everything in that moment, but he took a chance on our love.

“You’re quiet. Everything okay?” Emmett invaded my safe spot.

I was curled on a futon near the window in the sitting room. I kept trying to sketch, but all my inspiration had gone down the drain for weeks now. The only remotely decent thing I had drawn was Bruce, the other day.

Emmett leaned even closer, checking my sketchpad. “Oh, that’s gorgeous,” he said softly, glancing at Brian and Gus playing chess, in front of the fireplace.

“It’s shit,” I hissed, placing my sketchpad and pen on the windowsill. “My head is in a million places and I can’t concentrate.”

“I’d say you need a vacation, but you just had one.”

I snorted. “It really was a vacation, you know? It was just the two of us with no care in the world.”

“Christ, baby. When Drew not so subtly said you and Brian were missing, I was so scared. Then I remembered your confession about going to Aspen.”

“I’m forever grateful for your conversation with Drew being the trigger to save us. Brian is brushing off how badly that trip could have ended, but I’m aware we were going to die there.”

“Stop with the pessimism, Justin. Now, tell me what exactly is bothering you. The last time you have gone through a dry spell it was after you broke it off with the fiddler.” Emmett squeezed my shoulder, and I hated how well he knew me.

“Fuck if I know, Em. I have everything I could have ever dreamed of…” I shrugged. “I’m stressed, I guess. Maybe after January when Brian is officially back in the Oval Office…”

“You read the news, too, huh?” he said gently.

I kept my eyes on Brian and his son, laughing and moving chess pieces across the board. “I’m not sure if Ben or Drew told him. Maybe he heard the rumors, too. We don’t talk about work when we’re alone.”

“But that’s not work, Justin. It’s your lives. Do you suppose there is such a group out there? People who want to harm someone so important just because of his sexual preference?”

“It was too good to be true, Em. Everyone had taken in stride all the rushed decisions Brian had made in the past couple of months: coming out, marrying me, moving me into the fucking White House.”

“I guess, people didn’t expect he would be re-elected.”

“Everyone fucking adores Brian, and you know it. Only I know how many people I heard praising him. And I don’t mean queers. I mean everyone.”

“But then he showed his true colors, so to speak.”

“I’m fucking terrified, Emmett. Every single time he has to give a speech, or go on the national television, I feel sick.”

Our serious conversation was interrupted by Gus, who I hadn’t noticed had abandoned his daddy.

“You’re summoned,” he said seriously.

I laughed, shrugging at Emmett, before following Gus to where Brian was sitting crossed-leg in front of the fire.

Gus skipped away as soon as he brought me to Brian.

I sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his back. He brought my head closer, kissing me slowly, but somehow it had an edge to it. When I pulled away to check his eyes, I saw them a shade of stormy green which meant trouble.

“I don’t want you to panic,” he said softly.

“Too late,” I mumbled, already panicking at the look in his eyes.

Brian showed me a piece of paper with what I recognized as Ben’s handwriting.

The Jeep keys are in your nightstand. You’re taking Justin and leaving as soon as we turn in.

Drew and I will make sure the others are safely home without causing too much stir.

Go to the house in West Virginia. Absolutely no one knows about it.

Burn after reading.

PS: Ditch your phones in the woods.

My head spun as I stared at Brian with wide eyes and a knot in my throat.

I had just talked about this with Emmett.

Fuck.

Brian chucked the paper into the fireplace, and we watched it burn until it was ashes.

“Huh. Guess your mom could predict the future,” he said jokingly.

I punched his shoulder, before I pressed both palms to my face when the floodgates opened. Brian hugged me tightly, rocking us on the spot.

“Please, calm down, Justin. We don’t want to alert anyone.”

I escaped to the downstairs bathroom to wash my face and get a grip of myself, but my hands were shaking uncontrollably and there was a general nausea that incapacitated me from acting normal.

I bumped into my mom when I left the bathroom.

“I’m turning in,” she announced. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I threw my arms around her, not sure when I might see her again. “Thank you for coming. I love you.” I couldn’t remember the last time I had said those words to her.

She seemed taken aback, but replied that she loved me, too, before heading to her room.

I stopped in the kitchen doorway, watching Drew talking in hushed voices with Michael and Emmett. They looked like they were going to faint, which meant, he was telling them about how everyone had to leave pronto.

I continued to the sitting room, but found it empty. After retrieving my abandoned sketchpad and pen, I went to the bedroom I shared with Brian.

Ben and Brian were busy throwing clothes in a black duffle bag.

Brian froze, and I could see for the first time how terrified he was.

Ben’s hand went to his gun, but he relaxed minutely when he noticed it was only me.

Brian pulled me inside the room, closing the door. He gripped my elbow so hard, it started to hurt.

“If the police stop you on the way there, well…they’ll let you pass when they see your face,” Ben said. “Everyone is on alert. The CIA and FBI are working to find this group.”

“But what happened?” I managed to ask.

“We had intel about this house being targeted. Everyone knew you had come here for the holidays.”

“I want these people alive,” Brian spat. “I want a go at them.”

Ben pressed his lips in a hard line. “Negative, Brian. Whoever finds them first, will put them down. They are a threat to your life.”

I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling faint. All the threats we had read about on the internet and this group of angry people wanting Brian dead were our reality now.

“Drive carefully. One of us will come and get you when it’s over.” I heard Ben as if through a tunnel, because my hearing was buzzing. “The code of the panic room is your son’s birthday.”

“I know, Ben. I was the one to put it there.” Judging by how snappy Brian was, he was terrified.

“How would we know it’s you when you come to get us? We need a code for that,” I heard my voice saying.

“You think we won’t recognize Ben or Drew when they come?” Brian snorted.

“He’s right. We might have to send someone to move you or save you from there if need be,” Ben said thoughtfully.

“What, you want me to come up with a word?” Brian groaned, and I looked up to see him pacing.

“It can be a phrase, or a word. But nothing obvious, like…The Eagle and Warhol are being saved.”

Despite the serious conversation, I laughed. Ben shot me a hard look, reminding me of how professional he was.

“I’ve still got my pride,” Brian said slowly.

“It’s probably the only thing you have left,” I mumbled.

“That’s the phrase,” he snapped.

Ben nodded, then after a moment of indecision, he clapped Brian's shoulder. “Be careful, buddy.” Then he was out of the room.

“I think I’m going to vomit,” I grunted, sliding off the bed and wrapping my arms around my stomach.

“We’re going to be okay, Justin. We have practice to being stranded somewhere.”

“I don’t understand how you do it. Everything is a joke to you. You could be killed any moment, and you…”

Brian crouched in front of me, pressing a finger to my lips. “I’m fucking terrified, Justin. But if I don’t laugh harder than them, then I lose.”

I threw my arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.

He stroked my hair, kissing my temple. “We’ll be alright.”

#

It was dark outside when we sneaked into the garage and climbed into the non-descript black Jeep Wrangler. There were not license plates, which explained Ben’s fear about the police stopping us.

I offered to drive, but Brian shoved me into the passenger side, rolling his eyes.

The engine made too much noise in the quiet night, but we would soon be too far away before anyone could wonder what car was leaving.

The marine at the gate, saluted us, and Brian did the same. Then we were on the road.

There a paper map with a post-it note with a smiley face on the dashboard.

“Ben is hilarious,” Brian mumbled.

“Remember, we have to dispose of our phones,” I said quietly.

“Fuck.” He patted his pockets. “I guess I already did. I left it on the nightstand.”

“I can throw mine out the window,” I offered.

“Hold on to it a little more.”

I was a jittery mess with every mile we put between us and the house in Camp David.

Judging by the way Brian was gripping the steering wheel, he wasn’t doing any better.

I didn’t dare say anything. I was afraid I would start crying again, or somehow upset Brian more than he was.

About an hour into our trip when we were zooming at dangerous speeds down I-70, the car swerved, throwing my shoulder into the door.

Brian cursed a storm, but kept the Jeep as steady as possible until it stopped on the safe lane. He was an amazing driver, because we would have been seriously injured if I were the one behind the wheel.

“What happened,” I gasped, feeling my heart slamming against my ribcage.

“A tire exploded,” he explained, pointing to my side.

Now that the initial fear had subsided somewhat, I could tell the car was lower on the front right.

“Was it shot?” I had to exclude the most plausible reason.

Brian rolled his eyes, unbuckling his seat belt. “I bet no one checked the air pressure in the tires before this impromptu trip. Come on.”

“Are we walking now?”

“Justin, get your butt out so we can change the tire.”

“You know how to do it?” I asked, shocked. I sure as hell had no clue what to do.

Brian got out of the car, and I followed. He kept muttering under his breath, as he came on my side to check the damage.

It took us about forty minutes to do it. I was grateful I hadn’t ditched my phone yet, because we used the flashlight to accomplish our task.

When we were back on the road, Brian took my phone, throwing it out of his open window. I felt my whole life crumbling when I heard the sound it made when it hit the asphalt. All my contacts, my clients, my future…gone.

As we approached my hometown, Brian chose the route to avoid going through Pittsburgh. I kept him updated with our location by reading the signs and constantly checking the paper map on my lap.

“Closest small town?” he asked suddenly, worry in his voice.

“Five miles away.”

I didn’t ask why until we approached Bentelyville, and Brian pulled in the first gas station.

“Go to the ATM across the street and withdraw as much cash as you can. Different transactions, not all at once. If the card gets stuck, leave it there and come to the car.”

I nodded, accepting both his and my card. He leaned over me to open the glove compartment, and I tried not to stare at the amount of cash stashed in there. He pulled out two bills of fifty, pulled his black beanie low on his forehead, then left the car.

I felt like the biggest delinquent, as I kept my face hidden from the ATM camera while I kept feeding it Brian's card and withdrawing different amounts – one hundred, six hundred, three hundred, fifty, then I inserted my card, but managed only two withdrawing transactions of two hundred and one hundred, before the machine started screeching and red lights went off.

I sprinted toward the Jeep, hugging my jacket close, which held all the money I had managed to get.

I heard someone screaming for me to stop, but I dove into the car, and I barely had the door closed when Brian peeled off.

He kept his eyes on the side mirror.

“Come on, no,” he protested when a cruiser sped toward us.

“What are you doing?” I cried out when he floored the acceleration.

“I’m going to lose the fucker.”

“Ben said we shouldn’t resist if we are pulled over.”

“Watch me resisting. Do you really think this small town cop knows what’s going on? Put your seatbelt and be quiet.”

I did as told with shaky hands.

The cruiser stopped chasing after us eventually, but Brian didn’t let off the acceleration pedal.

I relaxed enough to start taking the money out of all the places in my jacket I had stashed it.

“Keep it in separate places. Put some in my pockets, keep some in yours, and the rest in our bag.”

I did as instructed, and when I had it all stored away safely, I relaxed in my seat. Brian reached over the console to take my hand. He squeezed my fingers, and I was grateful for the small gesture.

It was close to three in the morning when we passed a sign near Raccoon Creek State Park stating we were three miles away from crossing into West Virginia.

After drinking the shitty coffee Brian had bought in the gas station, we had to stop for a piss. Brian joked about how he was doing everything he had ever wanted to do when he dreamed of becoming a rebel. We had disappeared in the middle of the night with no word, we had withdrawn more cash than anyone knew what to do with, we were fugitives, we had been chased by the police, and we just pissed in the woods.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, moving his hands to grip the steering wheel better. He had kept a relaxed hold onto it until now.

I checked the windscreen to see what earned that reaction, and I knew our fun trip was coming to a crashing end.

There were several cruisers blocking the whole road, checking every car passing.

“How abrupt is the off-road?” Brian craned his neck to look through my window.

“This might be a Jeep, but you’re not an off-road driver. I’m fucking scared too, Brian. Besides, these guys surely know about what Ben told us.”

He huffed. “If I don’t make the news about another shot president, I’ll make the news about the president who got arrested for resisting the police.”

“Don’t even joke about being killed,” I snapped. “Just go through with it.” I nodded to the officer waving our car closer.

Brian snatched the beanie off his head, stopping next to the policeman. As Brian rolled down his window, the man flashed his light into our faces.

It was hilarious how he dropped the flashlight, his wide eyes staring at Brian. Then he looked at me, then back at Brian.

“Sir,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Good morning. Are we allowed to pass through?” Brian held his sarcasm as much as possible.

“I’m afraid…I know the situation.” The officer waved one of his colleagues to check the car coming from behind us.

I stopped paying attention to what Brian and the cop were discussing, because the car behind us looked exactly like the one I had seen on the opposite lane when we had stopped to piss in the forest.

They parked too far behind us, and I could hear the engine being revved.

“Brian, start the car,” I shouted when I saw the car behind accelerating toward us.

Brian shot me a look of pure fright, before he glanced in the rearview mirror. He swerved off the road, and the other car went full speed into the barrier of cruisers. They caught fire instantly, and our tires caught dirt as Brian pressed the acceleration to escape the mess.

I froze when I heard gunshots behind us, then metal grazing metal.

“Keep your head down,” Brian instructed. He finally managed to get the car back on the road, speeding away from the burning cars and the lone person shooting at us.

“Relax. We’re okay. I need your eyes on the road,” Brian insisted.

I could feel my whole body shaking, as I managed to look around. My mirror was shattered.

I turned to look at Brian, to make sure he was unscathed. His narrowed eyes were on the dark road and his fingers gripped the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.

“That’s what the police officer was telling me. We can’t go to the house. There was an explosion in the area not long ago. Someone knew about my very private residence.”

“Oh, God. What are we going to do?” I asked in a surprisingly steady voice.

“I have only one idea.” He met my eyes, and I knew my fear was reflected in his. “Did your mom manage to sell your condo?”

“No. I still have some old paintings in there. She deposited them there after the gallery downtown closed.” No one would expect to find us there. And I was certain that this group of homophobes didn’t know where I used to live. “I don’t have the keys anymore, though.”

“That’s the least of our worries. We have to ditch this car.”

We stayed quiet, until I realized we were headed to the house in West Virginia, the one which had blown up according to the cop. Smoke was visible from miles away.

“Trust me,” Brian said softly, when he parked away from the many fire trucks and police cars.

“What are you doing,” I demanded.

“Just wait for me here.”

“Are you going to steal a cruiser?” I insisted, unsure about Brian's new ambition to be a bad boy.

He laughed quietly. “Now, that’s an idea. Just trust me, and wait here.” He leaned over to kiss my brow. “Get all the cash out of the glove compartment. There’s some under your seat, too.”

While I was busy doing as told, I kept stealing glances out the windows. The duffle bag became really heavy.

I held the bag against my chest, watching as one of the firemen was staring at our car curiously. It would be a matter of time before he alerted the cops around.

I wished Brian would hurry in whatever he was doing.

I jumped out of my skin when a sports car zoomed down the alley leading from the house. Everyone jumped out of the way, before they started chasing it on foot.

I lowered in the passenger seat, trying not to vomit or faint at how scared I was.

Was that one of the bad guys?

Tired screeched near the Jeep, and I clutched the bag tighter in my arms.

“Get in, Painter Boy,” Brian shouted, honking loudly.

My body was on autopilot, as I spilled out of the Jeep and ran on jelly legs to the Corvette. I threw the bag in the small place behind our seats, while Brian revved the engine.

To my astonishment, he leaned out the window, waving to the policemen running toward us.

“Later, boys,” he said, amused, before flooring the acceleration.

I was propelled into my seat, and hurried to put on my seatbelt.

“What the fuck are we doing?” I groaned.

“Trying to save our asses.” He adjusted the rearview mirror. “Yeah, you can try catching me in that old piece of shit cruiser.” Brian shifted the gear, making the speed needle lean dangerously in the right side. I didn’t dare to focus on how fast we were going.

It took us less than twenty minutes to return to Pittsburgh with his hectic driving. The engine protested loudly when Brian slowed to a decent fifty miles per hour.

“Know of any small but good hardware store?” he asked casually.

“Yeah. There’s one around the corner from where I live…lived.”

“You’ll have to guide me,” he said at the first red light.

“Or I could drive,” I offered. “You must be tired.”

“We’re almost there. Just tell me left of right, so we can get to your condo before dawn.”

“So…this car…” I tried distracting him.

Brian chuckled. “I was wondering when you’d comment on my pride and glory. You know I never get to drive myself, but whenever I escaped to the house in West Virginia, I took advantage of the empty roads in the area and took the ‘vette for a spin.”

“It’s a cool car. I had no idea you loved speed.”

“Justin, if I were behind the wheel all the time, I’d get in a shit load of trouble with my security for leaving them in a cloud of exhaust smoke.”

I laughed, and it felt good to dissipate some of the tension. The heavy cloud looming above us was bearable as long as we had each other.

At the hardware store, Brian slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, taking my hand, and leading the way inside the store. The owner was an old man, who I knew from my previous trips when emergencies like a new light bulb, batteries for my mouse, a broken faucet sent me in search of a good hardware store.

The man didn’t recognize me, thankfully. He eyed us warily, but it was because of the black beanies covering our foreheads and half of our eyes.

Brian filled the hand cart with necessities, though I couldn’t understand why he needed a wood file, hammer, and a box of paperclips.

After we paid with cash, Brian pulled me into the closest 24/7, where we ransacked the shelves. The clerk asked us amused if the apocalypse was coming and he didn’t know.

We were sorting through the bags when a loud explosion came from outside. The glass doors shattered.

Brian dropped the bags he was holding, staring at the parking lot. I followed his direction, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see his car carbonized.

“Hurry,” I hissed, snatching the bags he had dropped, when I heard the store clerk calling 911.

While everyone was running in the direction of the explosion, we were going the other way. Thankfully, the front door of my old building was open, and we took the stairs two at a time.

“Now what?” I stopped in front of my door.

Brian wheezed out through gritted teeth. “We’re breaking into your condo.” He pulled out the wood file and hammer.

I kept watch so we wouldn’t be discovered by any of my former neighbors, but everyone was distracted by the explosion at the corner of the street probably.

“It’s time for a career change. I’ll be an amazing thief,” Brian preened, opening the door ten minutes after he had set to work.

Once we were inside the condo, with all the locks turned, I slumped on the stairs, gripping my hair.

The sense of faux security gave me hope that we would be okay, but after all the attempts on our lives in the past five hours, I had no idea what to expect.

“I want to know for how long have you known about these threats,” I mumbled.

“A while.” Brian sat next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

“Brian,” I insisted.

“From the day after I was declared the winner. At first, it looked like empty threats. The reason why I insisted to take you away to Aspen was to give Ben time to focus on finding these people.”

“Instead, we almost did these homophobes a favor and put ourselves out.”

“Instead, we got trapped in Aspen, which was counterproductive to giving Ben time to find these people,” Brian said gently. “I hope they took everyone home safely.”

I hugged myself, rocking slowly. “What if you step down?”

“They win. And chances are, they’ll still kill me when I’m living my mundane life.”

“This is not normal,” I shouted, gripping my hair. “For fuck’s sake! We are in the twenty-first century. So what if you’re queer? So what if the next president is a woman? We had a black president. No one tried to kill him.”

“Justin, calm down. We have to be quiet and make it look like we aren’t here.”

“I can’t be quiet. You said you wanted a go at these guys. You’ll have to beat me to it.” I started pacing, but I could feel my body crashing. The adrenaline of our trip was wearing off, and I was going into shock.

“Let’s take a shower, relax.”

I allowed Brian to take me upstairs, and under the hot spray, we both held each other for so long the water turned cold.

Brian upped the heat while I went to look through the duffle bag for what clothes he and Ben had packed.

“Did you even put any of my clothes in here?” I protested.

“Of course. Just dump the whole thing on the floor. Ben was already working on the bag when I went to our room,” Brian explained.

I turned the bag upside down. Along with money stored in socks by me, our clothes, our toothbrushes, something else fell from the bag. I stared at the handgun in shock.

Brian picked it off the floor, turning it around to check the chamber.

The reality of what our lives had become left me woozy.

After I stepped into a pair of boxers, I sat on the couch, staring out the window. I tried not to think of anything, but it was difficult to shut off my brain.

Brian lounged on the couch with his head on my lap. He lit himself a cigarette, smoking slowly, keeping his eyes closed.

“Are you tired?” I asked, stroking my fingers through his hair.

“I don’t think I can sleep.” He offered me the cigarette butt, and I accepted the calming effect of the nicotine. “What about you?”

“Same.” I rested my head against the back of the couch. “How long do you suppose it will take for them to be caught?”

“Hopefully before we run out of food.”

“Shit. The food.” I slipped from under him and took the frozen products to the freezer.

Brian joined me with the bags holding the fruits and vegetables, storing them into the fridge.

“It’s a good thing you still have power and running water.”

Once we were done putting everything away, I went to hug him. The walls were closing in, and not even familiar smell of my condo made me feel any better.

“Distract me.”

Brian tilted my head with a finger under my chin. “I wasn’t sure you wanted that. I figured sex was the last thing on your mind.”

“If these are my last minutes with you, I’d rather spend them on your dick.”

“Why are you such a twat?” Brian pulled me upstairs, stopping at the foot of the bed. “We’re going to survive. I won’t allowed anyone to hurt you.”

I cupped his cheeks between my palms, and kissing him deeply. Brian lowered me on the bed, his fingers tugging at the waistband of my boxers.

“Fuck. Condoms.” Brian pulled away, staring at me anxiously.

“We’re clean. We got tested before our trip to Aspen.”

“I’ve never. . .” Brian winced, sitting on his haunches. “Not without protection.”

“Brian, stop overanalyzing, and fuck me.”

After taking my underwear off, Brian started stroking my dick slowly. Somehow, he was still gloriously naked after our shower.

I admired every inch of perfection that was his body. I lifted one leg, bending it at the knee. “Bring some hand cream. I saw you packed that.”

“Maybe it’s my downfall. I can’t believe I didn’t think to pack lube and condoms. Or buy any from the store.”

Brian hurried down the stairs to retrieve the hand cream.

I kept stroking myself to keep unwanted thoughts from filling my brain.

Brian flipped me on my stomach, going for the gold. “Remember our first time? You thought you were a Top.”

“I am,” I retorted into the pillow. “I was…until I met you,” I averted, when he spanked me loudly.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“Care if I demonstrate?” I rolled around, trying to push him against the mattress. But I had somehow forgotten he was a pack of muscles.

“I’m intrigued. I might allow you only out of curiosity, but after I had my fill of your delectable ass.” Brian leaned closer to kiss me.

I was too shocked the kiss him back for a few moments. “I love you,” I declared against his lips.

I felt him smiling against my throat as he moved to pepper kisses down my neck and shoulder. Brian took longer to prep me, but it was our first time doing it raw. This bed had seen at lot of our firsts. It definitely belonged into a museum, stating that was the bed where the first ever homosexual president had fucked the man who later became his husband. Hopefully, it wouldn’t become the bed where said president and his husband were found dead.

“Let me know if it hurts,” Brian whispered, shifting lower on the bed.

I groaned at feeling the wet tip of his dick touching my hole for the first time. I arched my back when he breached past the entrance. Brian clutched at the thigh of the leg I had thrown over his shoulder, while the other hand was firmly glued to my hip. His lips parted and his eyes closed the more he slid inside me.

“Fuck,” he gasped when he was seated deep. Then he started moving, I forgot about being quiet or that our lives were on the line.

Brian tried to keep me quiet by kissing me while moving urgently inside me, taking me to new highs.

I had no idea it could feel so good. The difference a slim latex barrier could make was unthinkable.

If we survived this, we weren’t going back to condoms if I had a say.

The more days passed with us hiding in my condo, the slimmer the chances for anyone to find us were.

In reality, no one knew where we were.

Brian had the genius idea to write down each day of our stay in the condo. According to the paper pinned with a magnet to the fridge door, it was the fifth day of the new year.

We had been in here since Boxing Day. Food was becoming an issue, but we had started to portion everything a couple of days ago.

Since we had no phone or radio or TV, we had no idea what was going on outside.

Brian spent his days at the window, staring at the sky.

I wasn’t one to judge, because if that kept him sane, I wasn’t going to stop him.

I occupied my time with filling my sketchpad with various drawings.

Our relationship hadn’t been more solid than it was now. We discovered many things about each other, that had never come up during the early stages of our relationship.

On the eleventh day of January, I knew I fucked up when I accepted the pistachios from Brian. Less than half an hour later, all the tale-tell signs of a bad allergy attack kicked in.

I had stopped taking my meds two days into our stay here. We hadn’t packed them. No wonder, I felt like I was dying.

I sneezed and blew my nose for the hundred time in the past five minutes, trying not to focus on how I felt my throat closing in. What I needed was an epi pen and my prescribed drugs. What I would get…a cool place six feet under.

“Try to sleep. I’ll be right back,” Brian said as he bounded down the stairs dressed for outside. He had his beanie tugged low on his forehead.

“Don’t.” I could barely hear my voice.

The panic attack that hit me the second the door closed behind Brian triggered my allergy attack. I focused on my breathing, crawling to the window to open it and try to breathe in the cool air from outside. It didn’t work.

My heart hammered against my ribcage with every ragged breath I took.

I wanted to cry in terror, but also laugh at the irony. Here I was sure the homophobes were going to kill us, when I was going to die because of my own stupidity.

I was vaguely aware of someone next to me and a pinch in my leg, before I succumbed to the blackness.

When I blinked awake, I was amazed to still be alive.

I was in bed, and Brian was crouched by my side, gripping my hand. His terrified eyes searched mine, before he blew a sigh in relief.

“Fucking Christ, Justin. You scared the living shit out of me.”

“I’m a moron. Thank you.” I squeezed his hand.

“I got your Zyrtec.”

“Did you use my prescription?”

Brian grimaced. “I took the gun with me…just in case. I threated the pharmacist to give me all the Zyrtec she had and five epi pens. I also bought three tubes of lube.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re something else.”

“Thank you,” he said, amused, pressing his tongue in his cheek.

“I need to eat something. I feel faint.”

“I made you a sandwich. Don’t move.” Brian hurried downstairs, and I stared after him, amazed at the lengths he had gone to make sure I was safe.

He had literally saved my life.

Brian returned a few minutes later with a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of whiskey. We ate and drank on top of my bed, contemplating what was actually going on and whether or not the Feds were making any progress in catching this group.

“I can always go into the wild and bring you food, dear,” he joked, leaning against the pillows and lighting himself a smoke.

“I still can’t believe you threatened someone with a gun.”

“Anything to make sure you’re alright.” He offered me his cigarette, taking a gulp from the bottle. “I’ve been thinking…we have to send Ben a message. No one knows we are here.”

“I’ve been telling you this for days. But how?”

“Beats me.” Brian accepted back his cigarette, staring at the ceiling. “We need a cell phone.”

“We aren’t going to buy a phone. It can be traced.”

“We will use it just once.”

I lounged on the bed, resting my head on his lap. His fingers combed through my hair as he looked lost in thought.

“There’s another option. You won’t like it.”

“Try me,” I mumbled.

“We steal a car and return to DC.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“It’s been three weeks since we left, Justin. I trust the FBI had found and decimated this group by now. Their only problem is that they have no clue where we are.”

I sat up, turning to stare at him excited, feeling hope for the first time in weeks. Ben had my phone chipped. We were saved.

“What,” he deadpanned.

“How rational can Ben think in such critical situations?” I asked slowly.

“He’s a SEAL, Justin. Where are you getting with this?” Brian lifted a brow.

“My tracking device.”

Brian stared at me as if I had grown another head. “Did you miss the part where I threw your phone out of the car?”

I fell back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I felt utterly stupid. “You’re right.”

Brian placed the bottle next to the empty plate, and stubbed the cigarette in the ashtray. “Come on, I didn’t start my career as a robber so we won’t use the lube.”

I laughed, because only Brian could lift my mood with such silly declarations.

He handed me the blue bottle, then undressed and lay on his stomach in the middle of my bed.

I stared at his glorious ass for a few long moments. It made him look over his shoulder, lifting a brow.

“Do you need a special invitation? I want to know all about Painter Boy, The Mighty Top.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. This was another first my bed would experience.

“We have to donate this bed to a museum,” I voiced my thoughts, as I started to massage his hole slowly. “It has seen a lot of our firsts.”

Brian snorted into the pillow, but lifted his ass, silently encouraging me to keep pushing my fingers into him.

I took my time in prepping him, because I had no idea when he had last bottomed, if that had ever happened. The thought of being the only want to top him made my heart swell.

“Has anyone been here before?” I asked when I had two fingers up his ass. He was so tight, I was going to last all but two seconds.

“Even I started from the bottom,” he huffed, flopping around to face me. “But only once. I knew it wasn’t for me.”

I stared at him with wide eyes. “So, you’re practically a virgin.”

“Just like you were when we met.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning between his legs to kiss him. “Let me know if I hurt you. I’ll try to be gentle.”

“I’m not going to break,” he promised.

I kept our eyes locked when I pushed into him for the first time. It was pure bliss. I had never felt a tighter and hotter ass around my dick. It took all my willpower to stall my movements when Brian winced.

He brought my head closer, kissing me slowly, which was all the encouragement I needed to continue. He gasped softly when I was deep inside him.

Then we started a torturously slow pace, which had us sweaty in a matter of minutes.

I wasn’t sure I had been so close to anyone else. It felt like we were exchanging something sacred, and I rejoiced that Brian didn’t demand a faster pace.

When I spilled into his ass, sooner than I wanted our lovemaking to end, Brian flipped me around, already pouring lube on my hole. It didn’t take him long to find completion.

We lay across my bed, breathing harshly for a while.

“You’re decent.”

I glanced at him, stifling a smile. I slapped the back of my hand over his abdomen. “Brian…”

“You need practice.”

I stared at him, as my amusement grew. I couldn’t believe he was hinting at me topping again. I had gone into our previous round without expecting an encore.

“Really?” I managed to ask, when he kept his hazel eyes on me for so long I forgot how to breathe.

“Don’t sound so surprised. You had an amazing teacher in me.”

I rolled my eyes, turning to stare at the ceiling, trying to contain my boisterous smile.

#

According to the calendar Brian kept religiously, we were day seventeen in January.

He was standing at the windows in the living room with his hands linked behind his back. I kept myself entertained with sketching him in that position.

“I’ve been watching this nondescript blue sedan for a while now,” he said, spinning on his heel.

I stopped shading his arm, looking at him, confused.

He pointed out the window. “There’s a blue Toyota Corolla across the street. No one has been near it since we arrived here. We’re leaving tonight.”

My stomach tightened, because in our little bubble, it was easy to forget there were people out there who wanted us dead.

“Grand theft auto?” I joked.

Brian came to kneel at my feet. “I’d fucking kill to know you are safe.”

His words chocked me up. “But we are safe here!”

“Justin, we’re almost out of food. The whole country probably thinks I’m dead in a ditch.”

“You want to return to the White House?” I took his hand, playing with his fingers.

“It’s the best shot we got. Face it. No one will find us here.” He stood, walking up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I hurried after him.

“We’re packing our bag and we wait for nightfall.”

It took us a couple of hours to have our clothes and some food stuffed into the duffle bag. The cash was once again stuck in socks and at the bottom of the bag.

We had a light late lunch of what was left in the refrigerator.

The idea of taking that car and heading to DC terrified me more than our trip coming here.

We were currently sitting on the couch, sharing a cigarette. My eyes were on the wood file and the gun sitting on the coffee table. Our bag was by the stairs, ready to be picked so we could leave.

The sun was setting, and my nerves made me so jumpy than when I heard noises on our floor landing outside the door, I made a sound I wasn’t proud of.

Brian stroked the back of my head where he was keeping a hand.

At the sound of keys jiggling and several voices right on the other side of my door, I shot up.

Brian grabbed the gun, cocked it, and pointed at the door, stepping in front of me.

“I told you, he hasn’t been here since he moved in with President Kinney.” That was my mother’s voice.

I clutched at Brian's elbow, trying to relax him.

“Ma’am, step aside,” a deep voice ordered.

“Shit,” Brian spat under his breath, keeping the gun pointed at the opening door.

Two SWAT team members appeared into the condo, followed by several men in suits. They were definitely Secret Services or FBI or CIA.

They all drew their guns. “On the ground.”

It took me a moment to understand why they considered us the bad guys. We had out beanies on and our faces weren’t visible in the darkening room.

Brian lifted his hands, then made to take off his hat with his free hand. His gesture ensured chaos. One of the guys tackled him to the ground, and my heart stopped when I heard a gunshot.

Brian grunted, shoving the agent off him, then he stood up with the beanie in his hand.

“Took your sweet time, boys.”

The agent was still on my floor, but he slowly got up, holding his bleeding shoulder. I couldn’t believe Brian shot someone.

My mom came inside when she heard Brian's voice, but one of the suits held her.

“Your code, sir. It’s procedure.” The man kept his eyes on Brian.

“I’ve still got my pride.”

The man motioned for everyone to drop their weapons, and he allowed Mom to come to us.

I hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder. Brian kept a hand on my back, but soon he joined the leader of the group.

“I had no idea you were here! You didn’t say anything,” Mom wailed. “I was so scared, Justin.”

“It’s a long story, but this was the only place we could go…” I pulled away enough to brush my tears. “How did they think we might be here?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. Marty, the man Brian is talking to, came over earlier demanding the key to your condo. I had to come with them.”

“We have to go. I’m sorry to cut this short, Jennifer,” Brian said, joining us.

“Of course. I expect a call as soon as everything is under control,” she demanded.

“Yes, Mom.” I hugged her once more, before I took Brian's hand.

I noticed one of the SWAT team member had our duffle bag. We were escorted outside to a black sedan. The bag was stowed into the trunk, and after Brian and I were in the backseat, Marty and his colleague got in the front seats.

“Will the agent I shot be okay?” Brian asked after a while.

“He’ll survive. Reed is mortified for not recognizing you, sir,” Marty said over his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to shoot him. He grabbed my hand and I squeezed the trigger.” Brian shook his head, before closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat.

I intertwined our fingers between us, and he clutched tightly at my hand.

I became aware of Marty talking in the phone. “I got them, Ben. They’re safe. We’re headed to the airport.” A lot of noncommittal sounds followed, before Marty turned to us, offering Brian the phone.

I elbowed Brian, making him aware his attention was needed. He accepted the phone, leaning into the window.

“Hey, Ben…Yes, I’m safe. Yes, so is Justin.” He grimaced at whatever Ben told him. “Can we postpone this shit? Tomorrow morning sounds fabulous. I owe you.” Brian handed me the phone.

I took it, surprised Ben wanted to hear I was okay from myself. “Hi,” I said, unsure.

“Baby, I was so fucking scared!” Hearing Emmett's voice was everything I needed to hear and I had no idea why. He was my closest friend, second to Daphne. “How are you?”

“Hey, Emmett. I’m okay. I have no idea what happened in the world in the past couple of weeks…but we were safe.”

“Ben was just over here to let me know that everyone was still trying to find you.”

“Where are you? Home in Pittsburgh?”

“Actually…I’m at the house Brian bought for you two in DC. I’m here with Michael.”

“We will see you soon. Look, we’re close to the airport.”

Brian briefed me on what Ben had told him. The homophobe group was caught before New Year, which meant we had been missing for half a month.

We would know details about what happened to the members of that group when we landed. For now, we were in a small, private jet taking us home.

I dozed off for a few minutes, and when I looked around I couldn’t see Brian. Thinking he was in the bathroom, I stared out the small window waiting for him. When ten minutes passed, I decided to check on him

I found him at the back of the plane, talking to himself.

I tried not to spy, but it was hilarious how he was talking to the bottle of water.

“I'm queer! And to anyone who takes pity or offense, I say, "judge yourself." This is who I am.”

I applauded, making him drop the bottle. He scowled up at me.

“Don’t stop. You were so poetic.”

“I’m working on my speech.”

“Maybe you should let your people do it for you,” I said softly, sitting across from him.

“Not this time.” He snatched the bottle off the floor, placing it on the table. “If it were for me, I wouldn’t have run across the country like a scared, little faggot. I’m ready to remind all the homophobes, they have a gay president and they should deal with it. As long as I don’t fuck them, it’s none of their business.” His eyes widened. “That’s a good one. I should add it. Hey, Kip,” he shouted at the flight attendant. “Can I have a paper and pen?”

“Right away, sir.”

“You’re not serious,” I gasped, watching as Kip brought Brian a small notebook and a pen.

“Thanks.” He immediately started scribbling.

“Brian…” I had to talk sense into him.

“They can’t impeach me because I’m gay.”

“No, but they will make your life hell.”

“I did more good to this fucking country than any other president. I kept all my promises. And if I knew something was not reachable, attainable, I made sure not to create illusions.”

“I know,” I cajoled, stroking his arm. “Don’t act hasty.”

“I’m not. I can be loud and angry, too. They have no idea they upset the wrong person.”

It was futile to stop Brian. I had more chances to arm wrestle Ben and win, than to make Brian listen to me.

#

It was the little hours of the morning when we rolled through the gate at the White House.

I had a sense of déjà-vu when Ben and Drew greeted us as soon as we got out of the car.

“Hey! Nice to see you,” I said in greeting.

They both shot me small, relieved smiles.

Brian walked with purpose inside. He had worked himself out over his speech, and now he was angry.

“What’s up with him?” Drew whispered in my ear.

We stopped at the stairs. Brian cupped my cheek, kissing my brow. “Go to bed. I have to talk to Ben and Drew, then I’ll join you.”

I was ready to protest, but I knew he had to do this on his own. “Don’t stay up too late,” I warned him, heading up the stairs.

“Welcome back, sir.”

I jumped out of my skin at the voice that greeted up on the upper level. I shot Matt an annoyed look, but it was a relief to see him. “It’s good to be back,” I replied. “And, call me Justin,” I repeated for the thousandth time.

Matt escorted me to the presidential bedroom, before he joined the marine at the end of the hallway.

I took a hot shower, before I crawled in bed. It felt fantastic to be in this bed, where I actually felt safe for the first time in weeks.

I tried to wait awake for Brian, but eventually sleep won. I was vaguely aware of the mattress dipping and arms wrapping around me.

#

In the morning, we had a quiet breakfast, before Brian led me to his office. He was short with everyone who tried to stop him during our walk through the corridors, and once inside his office, he started pacing like a caged lion.

“What’s the plan?” I dared to ask.

I was getting tired of watching him wearing a path in the carpet.

He stopped at his desk, shoulders tense. “I will allow Theodore his five minutes of glory while he rambles about keeping the country alive without me, before I make my entrance.”

“Okay…”

He turned around to face me, leaning against the desk. “I stayed up until four to work on my speech. I dare any television to ban it. The printing companies would have a field day, for sure.”

“Brian…can I see the speech?”

“You’ll be just as surprised as everyone else. Nothing you, or Blake, or Ben, or Ted…or even Santa tell me, will make me change my mind.”

The door of his office opened to reveal Vice-President Schmidt, followed by the communication director, and Ben. Ben seemed surprised by my presence, because he muttered something in his sleeve, keeping his eyes on me.

I would rather be anywhere than in that room where chaos was about to explode.

“We’re ready in five,” Ben said loudly.

“Good.” Brian went to the mirror next to the fireplace, straightening his tie.

I felt sick at my stomach when the doors leading outside opened. I could see the sea of reporters waiting like sharks, ready to sink their teeth in the helpless, bleeding animal.

“Go, make me proud,” Brian joked, pushing Ted to the doors.

He left with Blake.

I tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but my ears were buzzing. With the corner of my eye, I saw Ben attempting a conversation with Brian, only to be brushed off.

Brian came to me, pulling me up from where I was sitting on the couch. He smoothed my dress shirt, smiling tightly.

“Keep an ear for when I say your name. I want you next to me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but chose only to nod. I refused to look at Ben, knowing he wouldn’t approve.

Brian cocked his head to the side, and I became aware of Ted’s voice praising Brian and me, saying how lucky we were to have found refuge in the last place anyone expected.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Brian declared loudly.

I sighed in relief at the same time a Ben.

“We’re walking outside together. Hand in hand.” Brian took my hand, squeezing my fingers.

I shot Ben a panicked look, but he shook his head. I knew it wasn’t wise to argue with an upset Brian, but this was ridiculous.

“Here is proof our president is back in a better shape than ever.”

Brian chuckled at Ted’s introduction, as he led me outside. I hoped I wouldn’t faint, or puke.

“Thank you, Mr. Schmidt,” Brian said softly, taking his spot at the podium where the microphone was. Brian looped his arm around my waist, holding me close. “Good morning!”

I looked around, seeing the intrigued, amazed, scandalized faces in the crowd.

“As we are all aware by now, our lives have been endangered by a group of people who thought themselves better than the rest of us. They believed being gay is still considered a capital sin, and we deserved to die.”

I wanted to die of mortification, especially when I saw the reporters gasping and looking amongst themselves, probably checking if they had heard Brian correctly.

Brian went on, unperturbed. “We have news for everyone who still shares their beliefs. Being a homosexual isn’t a crime. Attempt murder is a crime, though.”

I dug my fingers into Brian's side, hoping to make him stop, before he got himself in deeper.

“So…as long as I don’t fuck you, it’s none of your business what I do…who I do. I'm queer! And to anyone who takes pity or offense, I say, "judge yourself." This is who I am.”

I had to put a stop to this insanity, but I had no idea how.

A hand shot up somewhere in the sea of stunned reporters.

Brian cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes at the man. “Yes?”

“Jeremy Fraser. Out magazine,” the man said in introduction. “I admire your courage for this speech, sir. But with all due respect, if any other queer was in your situation, they would have ended up dead, but not before being scared out of their minds for being hunted.”

Brian dropped his hand from around me, and grabbed the edge of the stand with both hands. I kept a hand on his back, because I knew he was about to rip that guy a new one.

“If you think, for a second, that I wasn’t scared out of my mind while being hunted, you are wrong. I am the best and worst example that for these homophobes, social status doesn’t matter. Justin and I had to leave in the middle of the night with a vague idea of where we were headed. Our lives were put a stake several times during the trip. When all our plans were met with proof this group of homophobes was a step ahead of us, we took refuge somewhere no one was able to find us. Granted, it took weeks for the Secret Services to locate us.” Brian reached one hand to take mine. “We were worried and scared in the place we had to hide. I had fought with every politician about the laws favoring gay people, especially so such traumatizing events could be avoided. No one should be afraid to be who they are, simply because a larger group of people believes they are being superior and have a God complex.”

Another timid hand rose from the front row. This woman didn’t say who she was, though her question upset me. “Are you going to walk away, Mr. President?”

“I will eventually return inside, thank you for asking.”

She didn’t dare reformulate her question.

A shaky voice from the back of the crowd came over the rumor that started. I caught only Simon something, New York something, and part of the question…if they were caught what would Brian had done.

Brian waited a moment for everyone to quiet down, before he answered, “I had a weapon, thanks to my bodyguard. To answer your question, without a doubt, I would have shot them. But I believe any person in our situation would have done the same. And that is a legitimate way to use a weapon, before I hear questions about abusing of weapons or gun control.”

Blake not so subtly sent us back inside, saying there would be no further questions at the moment.

Inside Brian's office, all I wanted was to run for the hills, but he kept me at his side.

Ted was sitting on the couch along with a few other men I had only seen on TV, and I couldn’t remember their names. Ben, Drew, and Matt were by the door leading out of the office.

Blake closed the patio doors harshly, making me jump.

“I won’t take any questions, either,” Brian said calmly.

“You fucked yourself over. Without lube,” Blake spat.

“Not my style.”

“This is serious, man. You’ll keep the press busy for months with this speech.”

“Good. I need them off my back to focus on more pressing matters.” Brian went to sit in his chair behind the desk. “Were you scheduled for today, Steve?” He focused on one of the men on the couch.

“I obviously didn’t realize you would be busy. We can reschedule.”

“Of course not. I’ve been meaning to meet with you for at least two months. There was never a good time.”

Brian turned to Blake, pointing to the door. “Dismissed. Ted, stay.” His eyes met mine, and they softened considerably.

“I’ll go over to see Emmett and Michael,” I said, before he could give me any instructions.

“Okay. Take Drew with you. Matt…” He waved Matt closer, and it was my cue to scurry out the door with Drew on my heels.

“Impressive speech,” Drew commented.

“Don’t,” I begged. “Let me change out of this shirt, and we can go.”

It didn’t take me long to discard of the formal shirt and replace it with a sweater and my winter jacket. Drew was in front of our bedroom where I had left him.

“The car is in the garage,” he explained, leading me to one of the elevators. “I bet you don’t want to face the reporters.”

I cringed. “I refrained from stepping on his foot, or simply slapping a hand over his mouth multiple times during his speech,” I admitted.

“You should have heard Ben groaning with each word out of Brian's mouth.”

“How much trouble is he in?”

“There are people around him for this very reason. Everyone has their own task to aid to him – how he talks, how he dresses, how early or late he is to some event, how safe he is…”

I climbed into the passenger seat of the Cadillac. Drew joined me and patted my shoulder.

“Stop fretting. Brian is a grown up, and so is everyone in his staff. At the end of the day, he’s still the President of the United States, and can do anything.”

“Even when his speech has done more wrong?” I protested.

“Why do you say that? Maybe you should watch the interview and pay attention to his words. After the initial shock at what he was saying, I decided to detach and listen to his speech from a simple gay man’s perspective.”

I lowered in my seat instinctively when we arrived outside, but no one could see inside. Some of the lingering reporters tried a peek at who was leaving the White House, but they could only see their reflections in the black tinted windows.

On the drive to our home, I tried to remember Brian's words, but I had been too horrified by what he was saying for his message to sink into my brain. I could bet every TV channel was playing it on repeat, and I would get to see it once we arrived at our destination.

I expected Emmett to tackle me when we arrived home, but Drew and I stepped into the hallway, and no one appeared to hug me.

It was true, they didn’t know I was coming.

From the living room, I could hear the end of Brian's speech, which explained why neither Emmett nor Michael came to check who had arrived.

I toed off my boots, and joined them in the living room.

Emmett sprang to his feet. He seemed ready to jump into Drew’s arms, but he spotted me.

“Oh, Baby! I’m so happy you’re alright.” Emmett hugged me tightly.

“Hey, guys. It’s been a while,” I said softly. “We can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Hey, Justin.” Michael came closer to hug me, too. “I loved the part where Brian admitted he was ready to become a mass murderer, but he is still against weapons.”

“Can we talk about anything else?” I begged.

“Are you allergic to cats?” Emmett asked out of blue.

“No. Remember, Ethan had a cat,” I said, unsure why I brought my ex up, but it would explain to Emmett that I was definitely not allergic to cats.

“Good. We adopted a stray. She lives here now.”

I choked on my spit. I looked around, not spotting the cat. “Where is she?”

“Around here, probably sleeping,” Michael said, shrugging. “I tried to keep Emmett from doing this, but Ben helped with buying food and a scratch mat and some toys.”

“What the hell are we going to do with the cat? We don’t live here at the moment.”

“You can bring it with you,” Drew suggested.

“Do you want the dog to eat her?” I could only imagine Bruce salivating at the sight of the cat.

“We’ll figure something. Now, come eat something. You lost weight.” Emmett ushered me toward the kitchen.

“We shopped for a couple of weeks’ worth of being trapped in there. But as the time period of our stay at my former condo prolonged, we had to cut the food ratio.”

“Didn’t you sell the condo?” Michael asked, confused.

“That was the plan. Mom never found a buyer. Besides, after the gallery downtown closed, Mom sent my paintings there, instead of shipping them to this address. She was probably worried.” I shrugged.

“That was genius. No one even thought of that as a potential place where you were hiding,” Michael said, amused.

“Not even Ben and Drew…” I mumbled.

I noticed Drew going into the hallway, answering his phone.

I tried to pay attention to Michael and Emmett arguing about our safety in my condo, but my eyes were on Drew. He was pacing, which meant no good news.

I joined Drew as soon as he hung up. He stared at me with a blank expression, making my stomach twist uneasily.

“Hank is across the street if you need anything. I suggest you stay here with your friends. We’re taking Brian to New York.”

“What? So sudden?” I was confused.

“Well, his speech deserves the evening news prime time, along with him.” Drew rolled his eyes.

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be safe with us.” Drew patted my shoulder. “I’ll say my goodbye to Emmett and go.”

I went to the living room, and slumped on the sofa. I would have never guessed the turns my life would take when I agreed to embark this relationship with Brian. If I ever considered my life dull, now it was anything but that.

Michael joined me, and sat next to me. “I hear you’re staying here.”

“I have so much shit to do. I have a show at the end of the month,” I reminded him. “I might be able to push it out to February, but no further.”

“Oh, and are you anywhere near done?”

“Somewhat. I worked on this new collection restlessly until the re-election. Then all my energy and inspiration went down the drain.” I rubbed at my eyes, trying not to think for how long we had been aware of the threats.

Emmett came into the living room with three glasses and a bottle of vodka.

I had to laugh, because it reminded me how the three of us used to do this every other week, if not more often depending on our schedule.

“I missed this,” I admitted.

“I know, Baby. You look like you need a drink…or ten.” He filled all the glasses, rising his. “To more reunions like this.”

Michael scowled at Emmett, rising his glass. “To Justin and Brian's safety.”

I touched both their glasses, spilling some liquid on the carpet. “Amen…to both.” I downed my glass, fully aware I was getting drunk.

“Whoa! This glass is bigger than what we had,” Emmett gasped.

I took the bottle, topping my glass. “To friends.”

“So what did you do locked up in your condo?” Emmett inquired.

I gave him a long look, because it was obvious we had fucked like rabbits with nothing else to do.

“Did you still have a radio or TV in there?” Michael asked curiously.

I shook my head, taking a sip from my glass. “We fucked if it wasn’t abundantly clear. And we created morbid scenarios about being discovered fossilized after a decade.”

Emmett laughed loudly. “Sounds like something you’d come up with.”

“Actually, that was all Brian. I had left all my morbid scenarios about dying in the cabin in Aspen.”

“Shit. Somehow I forgot we almost lost you twice in the span of a month.” Michael winced, taking a drink.

“For this year, we’re going to cancel December. I also demand refunds for this one that passed.” I downed my glass. “Fuck. I never expected such adventures when I decided to date Brian.”

“And let’s not forget how we found lovers in Brian's security detail,” Emmett said, amused.

“That’s crazy,” I laughed, already feeling the effect from the vodka spreading through my body. It didn’t stop me to pour another glass for myself. “I really hope the shock of Brian's speech dies down fast.”

Emmett rubbed my back, and I leaned into his side.

“It might be a while,” Michael quipped, his eyes fixed on the flat screen.

I grabbed the remote control, upping the volume. CNN was replaying Brian's speech, and I paid attention to his words, like Drew had instructed me. It was true, if heard from an outsider’s point of view, it didn’t sound terrible. Brian had spoken in a way to reach to every member of our community, as he usually did. Though, his speech wasn’t as chiseled as everyone was used to hear. In all reality, his words sounded more honest because they were his and not created by an army of people who were paid to write such things.

“God, Justin, you can ask Michael if you don’t believe me, but I cried when I heard Brian's speech,” Emmett said with emotion in his voice. “This man loves you so much.”

I stared at the way Brian had held me close, often looking at me. I hadn’t noticed his eyes on me. I had been too busy looking at the reporters.

It was clear, from Brian's every gesture, every word, every look, how much he loved me. Hell, I knew how much. He had fired a weapon at someone to keep me safe.

“And Ben looks ready to shoot him,” Michael laughed.

“Everyone was upset with Brian, me included. But now…I’m starting to see why he insisted to use his own words. As crude and crass as they are, it’s a part of him shared with the people.”

Emmett touched his glass to mine, grinning. “You always sounded poetic when you were drunk.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered.

At some point during the day, the cat they had rescued appeared in the living room. She came to inspect me, before going to sit on the windowsill and look outside.

Emmett offered to make lunch, but I wanted to order take-out. After all the vodka I had ingested, I wanted fast food.

It was in the late afternoon when the food arrived. Michael went to open the door, and not a minute later, I heard Hank’s voice asking what was going on.

I could vaguely recall a conversation with Matt, not that long ago, where he told me to let them know when I ordered take-out and from where. And to always use the address from the house across the street.

Well, fuck.

After the delivery guy left, Hank came inside the house with Michael. He stared at me disapprovingly.

“I forgot the deal. Cut me some slack,” I muttered. I brushed past him, on my way to the kitchen to get my burger.

“After what you’ve been through, you forgot,” Hank thundered, stopping me in the hallway.

“Yeah. Go ahead and shoot me for my lapse of judgement.”

Hank stepped back. “I apologize, sir. I’m only doing my job.”

I sighed loudly. “I know, Hank. Now, can I go and eat something?”

“Of course. If you need me, I’ll be across the street.”

“Sure. And Hank? Call me Justin, for Christ’s sake,” I protested.

He nodded, before disappearing out the door.

I joined my friends in the kitchen. Emmett was standing by the counter, looking worried.

“What did we do wrong?” he asked.

“We shouldn’t have ordered for this address. Did you have take-out food before?” I asked, curious if the policy applied if only I was here.

“No. Drew or Ben came with food, or I cooked,” Emmett explained.

“I see. Well, hand me a burger.”

“How do you get used to have them on your ass all the time?” Michael wondered, looking out the window at Hank going into the house across the street.

“You don’t,” I mumbled. “It took me ages to accept Ben and Drew. I knew they were there for Brian's safety, but they drove me crazy in the beginning. Especially Ben. Now, I have Matt and Hank. They’re my shadows.”

“Damn,” Michael whistled.

I took a bite from my burger, famished.

“Well, I guess you have to get used to them. Brian is the most important person in the world, and you are second most important.”

I scoffed at Emmett's words. “Definitely not.”

“I’m sure Brian will agree with me,” he retorted.

“Because he’s biased. Anyway, you two should be happy for having such mighty boyfriends.”

“Oh, oh!” Emmett clapped. “I’ve tackled a plan to expand my party planning career for politicians. Drew told me about a party at the end of the month at Senator Baxton’s house. I already talked to her husband, and I’m meeting him tomorrow to talk details.”

“Wow. That was fast. Well done, Em.” I bumped his fist. “It’s her birthday, right? I think Brian mentioned being happy to miss the hag’s birthday bash at the end of the month.”

“She’s very sweet and kind,” he defended his client.

“Whatever you say. So, you have a company to cater the party?”

“That’s the tricky part,” Michael said, amused. “He’s been on the phone constantly trying to find a catering service.”

“No one has heard of me here. I even tried contacting some of the friends I made in Pittsburgh, but they weren’t much help. They don’t know anyone here.” Emmett pouted.

“I could try and talk to Lindsay. She uses such a company for all the birthdays and anniversaries,” I offered.

“Oh, Baby! I’ll be forever grateful, or I’m going to bake and cook for an army all through next week.”

I stood in front of Brian's portrait, which was protected better than Mona Lisa. I hadn’t stopped to simply enjoy my work of art until that very moment.

Sure, I had admired my work when I was finally done painting it. Then, I caught glimpses of the portrait when I visited Brian's office, but I had never soaked in the beauty of my dearest painting.

I had allowed for it to be displayed in my show, though I had complete veto for the place it was hung. It was in a separate room with limited access, because I knew how Brian's portrait was going to steal my show if it became the centerpiece.

“The artist has an amazing eye for the human form.”

I spun around to stare at Brian. He was supposed to be out of state for the week.

“Hi,” he added, smiling softly.

“Hi,” I whispered, going to him and wrapping my arms around him. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“Pittsburgh’s youngest and most talented painter has recently relocated to Washington DC, and he has his very own show. The catch? He has painted the president, and the portrait is on display.”

“I missed you,” I laughed, kissing his nose.

Brian grinned, glancing at his portrait. “You have incredible talent, Justin.” He stroked my hair, meeting my eyes. “I took a chance when I contacted your former agent. I have seen your art, but then again I have seen other paintings from different artists. Something in the way you draw pulled me in.”

“You never told me this,” I said, shocked.

“Then I saw pictures of you, and the choice was easy to make.”

“Always a romantic.” I rolled my eyes.

Ben joined us, looking on alert. “People approaching this room in twenty seconds.”

“That’s my cue,” Brian said, and with another kiss on my forehead, he turned to leave with Ben.

I foolishly hoped he would stay, though I knew he had dropped by for me.

Brian and Ben were close to the side door when a small group appeared in the main doorway. They were talking about me.

I made sure to keep my back to them, curious what they had to say.

“I always say artists are so lucky. They meet the coolest people. Take this no-one from Philadelphia…he met President Kinney,” a girl said with envy in her voice.

It was on the tip of my tongue to correct her and explain I was from Pittsburgh.

“And he didn’t only do his portrait,” a man commented. “This painter did the president.”

“Guess the president was desperate and had nowhere to choose from…if he settled for a painter.”

“Must be hard to find a good lay from his position,” the girl laughed.

I spun around, ready to give them a piece of my mind, but the words got stuck in my throat. Brian was standing in the middle of the room, with Ben hovering. The three people in the doorway seemed frozen.

“Please, apologize to my husband,” Brian said through clenched teeth.

My heart did a flip at the way he addressed me. I looked at the group, and found their eyes on me.

“We meant no disrespect, sir,” one of the boys said in a hurry.

“Now, apologize to your president for how you spoke about him,” I demanded, going to stand next to Brian. I grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

Everyone from the group stammered an apology, before they scurried away.

Brian raised a hand to Ben, who was ready to say something in his sleeve. “Fuck them and their preconceived ideas. Justin's show is far too entertaining to depart so soon. Let’s stick around,” he told Ben. Then, he pulled me closer. “Show me around, Mr. Taylor.”

“That’s Mr. Taylor-Kinney to you, Mr. President,” I teased.

“You’re a twat,” he joked.

I steered him to the door. “It’s been a while since you called me that.”

“It’s been a while since you acted like one,” he retorted, amused.

“He’s lost his mind. I need all the backup in the world,” I heard Ben saying hurriedly in his sleeve. “Eagle on the loose.”

“Take a chill pill, Big and Bulky,” Brian said seriously.

I laughed loudly, managing to attract attention upon us. Thankfully, after the people who stopped inspecting my art to check the source of the noise got over the shock of seeing their president mere feet away, they returned to looking at my paintings.

“I’m so proud. You got his nickname right,” I said enthusiastically.

“Give me the grand tour, Painter Boy.”

“This way, Mr. President,” I said courteously.

I hadn’t allowed him in my little studio at home, and all the paintings on display were new to him. It helped that he loved art and I could hold a pertinent conversation with him about the style of my paintings.

Our tour of the gallery was interrupted by some brave persons coming to shake Brian's hand, others were interested in talking to me. Ben seemed ready to have a meltdown when a loud group came to talk to us.

Shortly after escaping the group, I had to abandon Brian when someone was interested in a commission. It took no less than half an hour to have a deal with Mr. Thompson.

When I looked around for Brian, I couldn’t see him, which meant Ben had managed to take him away.

Matt approached me a short while later, leaning to speak in my ear. “Whenever you are ready, let me know. Mr. Kinney said you have dinner reservations for eight-thirty.”

I checked my watched to see it was a little after eight. “Let me see if it’s polite to leave early.”

Matt nodded, slipping away.

I knew by now not to worry, and that if I lost track of him in a room full of people, I only had to head to a door or look around, for him to materialize next to me.

After having a few words with the curator, I was ready to escape.

On my way to the door, I was stopped by several more people and it was only polite to talk to them and shake their hands. My mother was a WASP, and she had raised me accordingly.

I nudged Matt through the door when I finally reached him, making him laugh. “Hurry, before I’m late.”

“You already are late,” he said seriously.

I climbed in the backseat of the Cadillac, and checked my phone for the first time since the show had begun.

I had a few apology messages from both Michael and Emmett about not being able to make it, my mother missing her flight, even Lindsay excusing herself for unpredictable changes in her schedule.

Brian's surprise visit at my show had made me forget about being bummed about all my friends being otherwise engaged and not being able to be there for me.

“We’re here,” Matt announced suddenly.

I looked up, confused at why we were in front of the fanciest restaurant in town. I had been sure we were going to dine at home, though the dinner reservation made sense. I was curious about what secret section of the restaurant Brian had booked only for us.

Matt walked me inside.

The place looked completely deserted. Until my eyes landed on a big table near a large fish tank. Everyone was at the table: my mom, her boyfriend, my sister, Emmett, Michael, even Debbie, the girls, Gus.

Brian stood and came to greet me, smiling. “Congratulations, Justin.”

“What’s this?” I asked, trying not to start crying. His gesture spoke loudly about how much he loved me.

“I thought you’d love to have the whole family here for the big night. I’m sure you were confused why everyone had to cancel, that’s why I decided to brighten your time at the show and drop by.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I gasped, blinking through my tears.

“It’s true. I am,” he replied, grinning.

“I love you!” I threw my arms around him, kissing him long and hard.

“I love you,” he said emphatically.

We walked toward the table, but my mom intercepted us, extracting me from Brian's arms to hug me tightly. I was soon hugged and kissed by everyone, while I kept trying not to cry at the surprise.

When we finally settled, Brian and I sat in the middle of the big table so I could talk to everyone. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Drew and Ben sitting next to Emmett and Michael, they were part of the family, too.

“Consider this the wedding reception we never had,” Brian whispered into my ear.

“Thank you. This is the best surprise,” I said, cupping his cheek.

He smiled softly, leaning closer to kiss me. “Anything for you.”

Such stolen moments when I had around all the people I loved gave me hope for our future. In four years’ time, we would be able to have a quiet life surrounded by our family and friends. Of course, Brian would still be an important name in the country, but the attention wouldn’t be so much on us.

All we had to do was survive for the next four years while Brian would still be president.