Every Wednesday evening at 7pm EST, Brian Kinney’s cell phone would ring. There were no fucking special tones to be heard, just a simple business-like trill, but no matter where in the world he was, or who he might be with at the time, that call would never go unanswered.

A client dinner he wasn’t able to avoid?

He would politely excuse himself and find a quiet corner with relative privacy. There, he could focus solely on the mystery caller, and give his undivided attention for the next fifteen minutes. His regular clients smiled indulgently and waited patiently for their favorite ad man to return to them; Brian Kinney was well worth the wait.

Those who were new or prospective accounts were quickly placated by Brian’s right-hand man, Theodore Schmidt, who would murmur a few practiced words of explanation in his most confiding manner. Only the biggest assholes would still be disgruntled, but Brian Kinney didn’t give a fuck about them; no one was keeping him from his 7:00 call.

On a business trip in a time zone far removed from the East Coast of the United States?

No problem. Brian Kinney would ask for a wake-up call thirty minutes in advance of the magic hour. He wanted to be alert and coherent even if it was fucking 4:00 am where he was; nothing was going to make him miss that call.

The majority of the time he was right where he belonged; either in Pittsburgh or New York City, and if his phone hadn’t rung by 7:15, then Brian Kinney’s finger was pressed firmly to his speed dial, frown in place until the proper connection was made, and his call was answered by a familiar voice located in a middle class home in the suburbs of Toronto.

Brian Kinney wasn’t a family man by any conventional definition of the word. As a matter of fact, combining the words, “Family Man” and “Brian Kinney” in the same sentence would most likely be hazardous to just about anyone’s health. Quite frankly, if Brian Kinney ever thought that about himself, it would have probably sent him sprinting to the nearest rest room so he could vomit in peace.

Yet Brian Kinney had a family just as non-conventional and complex as the man himself. The family he’d had the misfortune to have been born into, he had rejected as kin many scars and bruises ago. His mother, sister, and her offspring were as dead to him as his father was; and the late Jack Kinney was most definitely the original fucked-up family man.

No, the individuals that Brian Kinney had somehow become attached to over the years, and considered his true family, had eventually done what his biological family would never do;  accepted him the way he was without one shred of DNA in common with him, save for his weekly caller; his son, Gus. But this curious fact was just fine with Brian Kinney.

On this particular Wednesday evening, as the golden hour approached, Brian Kinney was in his favorite place in the universe, thrusting steadily into the tight ass of his life partner, Justin Taylor, in their massive four-poster bed ,in the bedroom of their elegant country mansion, in the outskirts of Pittsburgh.

Brian sank back on his heels and pulled Justin’s  back tightly against his chest, both men cursing and grunting as the new position deepened their coupling that extra inch that triggered both of their orgasms and sent them flopping together onto the cool sheets as they panted together in post-fucking bliss.

Brian carefully pulled out, smacking Justin’s ass lightly as he rolled over to grab his cigarettes from the nightstand. As Justin leaned closer to steal a kiss and a puff, Brian wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, holding Justin in place for a deeper exploration of his mouth.

Brian released his hold as his cell phone rang, and Justin smiled widely at him as he jumped up, heading toward the bathroom and a relaxing shower. “Say ‘hey’ to Gus for me.” He called over his shoulder, swaying his ass seductively as he retreated.

Brian felt the slightest twinge of regret as he watched his partner enter the bathroom for a solitary shower, but the continued ringing of his phone regained his attention. Deciding to make sure that Justin would need a second shower at some point this evening, Brian had every intention of joining him and punishing that teasing ass in a most pleasant way. Later.

A smile that few people were ever fortunate enough to see crossed Brian’s face as he flipped open his phone and stubbed out his cigarette after one last inhale.

“Hey Gus!” he said in greeting, feeling like a lesbian at the happiness that fucking flowed through him whenever he spoke with his son.

“Hi, Brian.” A feeling of dread came over Brian as he heard Lindsay’s voice in his ear.

“What the fuck Lindz?” Brian knew he was overreacting; that there was most likely a perfectly simple explanation for Lindsay being on the other end of the phone and not Gus, but Brian was also a pessimist by nature, and subtlety was not one of his strengths. “Where’s my kid?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Justin approaching him, a frown marring his smooth features, the ipod he had retrieved from the dresser on his way back to the bathroom clutched tightly in his hand.

“Uh…Brian…Gus doesn’t want to talk to you tonight.” Lindsay spoke softly, the regret and sympathy in her tone making Brian want to throw the cell phone against the nearest wall. Instead he gripped it hard enough that he knew his skin would bear the imprint of the phone long after he hung up from this call.

“Spit it out Lindsay! What the fuck is going on up there?” He rose from the bed and began to pace in front of the French doors that led onto the bedroom balcony, the tension apparent in every muscle in his body.

“Relax Brian.” Lindsay said in a soothing tone that only made Brian want to scream in frustration. “He’s just a little upset right now about a project he’s working on in school.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Brian asked, removing the phone from his ear and glaring at it as though it were at fault.

Justin was watching quietly from the shadows, unsure of the exact situation but knowing by Brian’s half of the conversation that Lindsay needed to get to the point quickly before things started to get really ugly.

“Gus has to do a project on his genealogy.” Lindsay said, still speaking in the low soothing tones people used to try to calm a wild animal getting ready to pounce. “You know, a family tree?”

“Yeah Lindsay, I attended middle school too; I know what goddamn genealogy is. What’s the problem? He lists your Peterson WASP’s on one side and Mel’s Marcus Meshugenah’s on the other and it makes for one fucked-up dysfunctional muncher menagerie.  It’s a guaranteed A+.” Brian stopped pacing suddenly and cradled the cell against his shoulder as he fumbled for his smokes and lighter impatiently.

“Brian,” Lindsay was whispering now. “He wants to do a family tree for all of his parents…both of his mothers and his father, but he’s worried you’ll be upset if he asks you about your family.”

“Fuck!” Brian dropped down roughly onto the side of the bed, unlit cigarette forgotten in his mouth. “He’s fucking afraid to ask me? What the fuck have you and your husband been telling him about me?”

Brian tensed as Justin slid in behind him on the bed, hands lightly resting on his shoulders, squeezing gently until Brian relaxed fractionally.

“That’s not fair, Brian.” Lindsay scolded gently. “Your son isn’t stupid. Don’t you think that after all these years he’s been curious about why he’s never met the Kinney side of his family? You’re not exactly subtle when you don’t want to discuss something, you know.”

“But to think I’d yell at him for even asking about it? Christ, Lindsay my own son is fucking afraid of me!” Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and Justin’s hands moved to the back of his neck to begin a gentle stroking. The one thing that had always terrified Brian about fatherhood was that Gus would someday reject him; and that he would deserve it for being a shitty father just like Jack Kinney.

“He’s not afraid of you Brian! Stop queening out and listen to what I’m saying. Are you listening?” Lindsay was using her best don’t-mess-with-mama voice now.

Brian rolled his eyes at the familiar question being used against him, but he only sighed and mumbled back, “Yes, I’m fucking listening.”

“Good. What I was going to suggest before you had your diva moment, was that maybe you could send Gus an email tonight and let him know that he can ask you anything he wants about your family via email. That way he won’t be worried about upsetting you, and you won’t have to open your mouth about the people you rightfully despise. Then, I’ll make sure he calls you tomorrow night to thank you, and you can move on from there.” Lindsay paused and let out a deep breath. “He loves you Brian, and nothing will ever change that. You are not the monster that Jack Kinney was.”

Brian had his doubts about her last statement and always would, but he had to admit that Lindsay’s idea was a good one. He knew that if he tried to talk to Gus about his grandparents, his hatred was bound to bleed through in his voice, and it would only reinforce Gus’s belief that he was upsetting Brian by bringing it up, and Brian never wanted to make his son feel guilty.

The truth was that Gus did have a right to know something about his heritage, and the names of those people who were technically his flesh and blood. His son was twelve, and old enough to start making his own decisions. But he couldn’t really do that well, if he wasn’t comfortable enough to ask Brian and his mothers to help him figure out who he was and where he came from.

Brian decided in that moment that he needed to grow up a little bit too, and truly be the masculine influence he had once jokingly told Justin his son would need. It’s not as if Gus wanted to meet his frigid grandmother and useless bitch of an aunt. That was a bridge that Brian hoped Gus would never want to cross. He didn’t really believe in fate, but Brian knew opportunities should be taken advantage of whenever they came knocking. And Brian was tired of letting his disastrous childhood overshadow every aspect of his adult life.

He turned to press a kiss onto Justin’s worried forehead and held his gaze as he found the strength to approach this much too long interrupted conversation with Gus.

“Lindsay, put my son on the phone. It’s time I introduced him to the crooked branches that make up the Kinney side of his family tree.”