Barefoot Blond by samcdee, Tagsit, Jazzepoet
FeatureSummary:

 

BB - Barefoot Banner.jpg

 

Brian Kinney needs a last minute date to join him at a client’s wedding, so he grabs the first available guy he sees - a naive, sheltered, and unsophisticated blond boy that he saves from a mental hospital. A boy who’s got a very unusual past. This is the story of their adventure together. Oh, and Justin doesn’t like wearing shoes for some reason . . .

*Reader's Choice Award, Favorite Friendship: Brian/Justin and Justin/Animals*


Categories: QAF US, Reader's Choice Award Characters: Brian Kinney, Justin Taylor
Tags: 100k+ Word Count, Abuse/Child Abuse
Genres: Alternate Universe, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Pairings: Brian/Justin
Challenges: None
Series: Barefoot Blond Series
Chapters: 25 Completed: Yes Word count: 104081 Read: 62555 Published: May 04, 2016 Updated: May 31, 2017
Story Notes:

Written for NaNoWriMo 2015!

NOTE: This story is loosely based on the movie "Barefoot"


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. This site holds no connection to and is not endorsed by: Channel IV, Russell T. Davies, Showtime, CowLip Productions or any of the other writers and producers of either the UK or the US/NA Queer As Folk series. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

 

1. Chapter 1 - Lithium by samcdee

2. Chapter 2 - Smells Like Team Spirit by samcdee

3. Chapter 3 - All Apologies by samcdee

4. Chapter 4 - Heart Shaped Box by samcdee

5. Chapter 5 - Come As You Are by samcdee

6. Chapter 6 - In Bloom by samcdee

7. Chapter 7 - Scoff by samcdee

8. Chapter 8 - Spectre by samcdee

9. Chapter 9 - Take It Eeeeeeeasy by samcdee

10. Chapter 10 - Where Did You Sleep Last Night by samcdee

11. Chapter 11 - About a Girl by samcdee

12. Chapter 12 - The Man Who Sold The World by samcdee

13. Chapter 13 - Scentless Apprentice by samcdee

14. Chapter 14 - On a Plain by samcdee

15. Chapter 15 - You Know You're Right by samcdee

16. Chapter 16 - Something in the Way by samcdee

17. Chapter 17 - You Know You're Right by samcdee

18. Chapter 18 - Dumb by samcdee

19. Chapter 19 - Aero Zepplin by samcdee

20. Chapter 20 - Talk to Me by samcdee

21. Chapter 21 - Negative Creep by samcdee

22. Chapter 22 - Rape Me by samcdee

23. Chapter 23 - Pennyroyal Tea by samcdee

24. Chapter 24 - Opinion by samcdee

25. Chapter 25 - Love Buzz by samcdee

Chapter 1 - Lithium by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Welcome to our new collaboration! Hope you enjoy the adventure!

 

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Chapter 1 - Lithium.

 

Brian was rudely awakened by a heavy slab of meat slamming down over his chest while a Mack Truck that seemed to have driven into his bedroom roared into his ear. It took him at least five minutes to pry open one eyelid, encrusted as it seemed to be by an unknown substance which had the adhesive power of superglue and the consistency of dried up cream cheese. When he did get his eye opened, he discovered, to his dismay, that it was actually some meat head gym bunny lying in the bed next to him, snoring so loudly it was probably going to cause permanent hearing loss, and not a Mack Truck. Brian would have preferred the Mack Truck.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” Brian bellowed as he threw the unwanted meat slab - which now appeared to be the humongous oaf’s gargantuan arm - off his chest.

 

“I’m the guy you fucked last night, asshole,” the Trick replied incredulously, as if wondering how the handsome, newly-titled asshole next to him could ever forget him, or his stellar lip service.

 

“Oh, right . . . Were you any good?” Brian asked grumpily, rolling out of bed and plodding off towards the bathroom to empty his bladder, find some eye drops and brush his fucking furry teeth.

 

“From the way you were begging for more, I must have been the best fuck you’ve ever had,” the trick boasted to Brian’s retreating back.

 

“Yeah, right! The best fuck I’ve had while I was so fucking high that I could barely get off and which I couldn’t remember the morning after, at least,” Brian hollered back over the noise of the running water in the bathroom sink. “Now would you kindly do me and yourself a big favor and get the fuck out of my loft before I have to wake up enough to kick you out myself.”

 

“God damned fucking asshole . . .” the big lug was muttering as he searched the floor around the bed for his missing clothing.

 

“Yes, I WAS the one fucking your asshole,” Brian snarked, albeit weakly, as he shuffled out of the bathroom and directly past the trick on his way to find the only substance that was likely to make him feel even vaguely human again - Coffee.

 

“I left you my number but don’t bother using it princess, because you won’t get another go at this ass EVER again,” the oafish trick snapped when he finally stomped out of the bedroom a few minutes later.

 

Brian’s only reply was to snort into the depths of his steaming coffee cup. This guy really must have been clueless if he didn’t know that Brian Kinney did NOT do repeats. Especially not repeats who were overly talkative, way too needy and hadn’t had the good manners to get the fuck out the night before. All Brian wanted at that precise moment was a little peace and quiet - not a prissy, prima donna drama queen whose feelings were hurt and who thought whining about it would make Brian reconsider kicking his ass out as soon as possible. Brian silently followed last night’s fuck de jour to the door, beyond ready to rid himself of this loser.

 

With one hand still cradling his precious coffee, Brian slid the loft’s heavy metal door open, figuring that opening the door for the guy was as polite as he needed to be under the circumstances. Since he was more focused on his coffee than the trick, though, it took him a couple seconds before he realized that last night’s fuck hadn’t yet left.

 

“What do you need, a fucking platinum plated invitation? Get the fuck out already, I’m not a fucking valet bucking for tips here.” Brian demanded, shoving at the monstrous shoulder a bit in order to try and get the trick moving.

 

“Back off, man. I’m going already. But I’m not going to plow over the lady standing in your doorway to do it,” the Meat Head griped and shrugged Brian’s hand off his shoulder.

 

Finally, sidling through the door around the surly blond leaning obstructively against the door frame, the trick made it out the door and headed straight down the stairs.

 

“Good Morning, Brian!” Cynthia managed to bite out testily as she gave his naked body a quick, appreciative, once over before sauntering inside.

 

The new pair of Jimmy Choo’s she was wearing made annoyingly loud tapping noises on the hardwood flooring and caused Brian’s head to throb even more than it had been before the woman’s arrival. His condition wasn’t made any better when his assistant began unloading a virtual mountain of paperwork from her leather satchel and piling it on his desk. Brian really, really did NOT want to deal with paperwork this morning. What he wanted to do was go take a long - make that a very long - hot shower, then go back to bed for a couple of hours and then, maybe, eat something that would help sop up the leftover alcohol still gurgling around in his stomach. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that Cynthia was on board with that plan.

 

“You’ve got to deal with this shit, Brian,” Cynthia demanded, grabbing Brian by the shoulders as he tried to slip past her and into the bathroom undetected. “We’ve got four collection agencies coming after us, the electric bill is almost two weeks overdue and you’ve maxed out all but one of your credit cards. I can’t put them off forever, Brian. And this,” Cynthia handed Brian one last letter, this one printed out on creamy, expensive letterhead, “is the most recent letter from the bank about the balloon payment on your start up loan, which comes due in less than a month!”

 

“What do you want me to do Cynthia? It’s not like I can magically make money fall from my ass!” Brian growled, tearing himself out of her grip and tromping up to the bedroom where he reluctantly forwent his shower and instead pulled on a pair of jeans.

 

“What you need to do is get us some clients, Brian! Isn’t that the whole reason behind starting your own advertising agency, hmm?” Cynthia could even out-snark her boss when she got this angry.

 

“I’m working on it, Cyn, but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” Brian tried to hold back his temper while he explained it all again. “You know that both Liberty Air and Remson backed out on their promises to follow me when I left VanGuard. I’d been counting on that income to get us by until we landed some new clients. And I’m close to landing both the Brown and the Telson Tire accounts, but it’s a slow process and it might be another six weeks or so before that’s all finalized.”

 

“Well, what the fuck are we going to do in the meantime? Isn’t there someone you know that you can borrow some money from until we can get those new contracts signed? Seriously, Brian, if we don’t do SOMETHING right now, there won’t be a company in six weeks time,” Cynthia looked more worried than Brian had ever seen her and that, in itself, scared Brian more than the stack of collection letters.

 

“Fuck . . . I don’t know,” Brian racked his brain trying to come up with some kind of solution. Most of his friends and family were even more broke than he was. The only person he could think of who would be even remotely tight enough to have any kind of savings was Ted. The problem with that, though, was that Ted was in rehab at the moment, battling his unfortunate crystal addiction. Brian had been so busy starting up his own agency that he hadn’t seen either Ted or Emmett in weeks, and only knew Ted was in rehab because he’d overheard Michael and Debbie moaning about it the other day at the diner. But, maybe, if he could track down exactly which program Ted was in, he might be able to . . .

 

“I might have an idea, Cynthia!” Brian stated with renewed hope. “I know a guy who might be able to help us out with a little short term loan. Just . . . just give me until this afternoon to see if I can pin him down, okay.”

 

“Fine. I guess I can do my juggling act and hold these guys off for a little while longer, but seriously, Brian . . .” Brian put a hand up, silencing whatever protest Cynthia had planned on making.

 

“Just give me a couple hours. And, in the meantime, keep working on that list of prospects I gave you last week. There are some good possibilities on there, and I just know one of them will pan out eventually,” Brian tried to reassure both himself and his assistant as he gently guided her back towards the door.

 

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“I’m here to see Ted Schmidt,” Brian announced himself through the little round metal screen set into the plexiglass window of the reception desk at Brighton Psychiatric Hospital.

 

It had taken him most of the day to track down which rehab program Ted was in. Now it was after eight in the evening and visiting hours were up at nine. But Brian hadn’t gone to all this trouble just to give up now. He simply had to see Ted. It was his last hope.

 

Ten minutes later Brian was admitted through the locked doors and seated in the dingy, not-too-clean lounge area across from the main reception desk while someone from the staff went to find Ted. It seemed like a pretty quiet night. There were no other visitors waiting in the lounge and once the guy manning the reception desk went off to find Ted, there wasn’t anyone else in the room with him. It was creepy and way too quiet and the atmosphere made Brian’s skin crawl.

 

It seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time to track down Schmidt, too. Brian tried to sit patiently, but there was nothing to do and only pale grey walls to look at. There weren’t even any magazines in the lounge to distract himself with. So, by the time there was some actual activity in the corridor near the waiting area, Brian had been up and pacing for several minutes.

 

Of course, when there finally was some kind of action, it was like a total circus. The main door opened and a whole crowd of folks came traipsing in, including a police officer, two nurses, and someone wearing a long white lab coat who was probably one of the doctors or therapists here. In the middle of the crowd was a small statured blond boy who looked dazed, confused, and cowered at every touch. His pale, soft-looking cheeks were tear-streaked. His blue eyes were looking around him in a panicky shifting fashion, as if he was seeking a way out. The cop’s grip on his arm was very obviously preventing that. The poor kid looked like he should be in bed since it was a school night rather than here in this sterile ward for the mentally challenged.

 

“Welcome to Brighton, Justin,” the lab-coated one said in that fake soothing voice that all headshrinkers used, which in Brian’s opinion would only make a panicked person even more frightened. “We’re going to take good care of you here. Now, just come this way and Nurse Cybil will show you to your room.”

 

The boy looked wildly around him one more time. For a brief moment the kid’s eyes met Brian’s and seemed to be begging him for help. Brian was too stunned by the beauty of the boy and the whole fucked up situation to say anything. He just stood there, watching mutely as they hustled the scared youth away, his head turning so that he could keep looking at Brian over his shoulder all the way down the long corridor until they went around a corner and the boy was lost from sight.

 

Brian had the strangest urge to follow them. He felt like he should be saving the boy or pulling him out of here. Which was just crazy considering where he currently was. Brian didn’t know anything about that kid. And the fact that he was brought in by the police did not bode well. But, then again . . . nothing about that little blond struck Brian as dangerous or violent. He just seemed scared and lost and in need of a friend. And Brian found that even if he didn’t know the guy, he’d be more than happy to be that friend.

 

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“Have a seat, Justin,” the man who’d introduced himself as Dr. Gillcrest said, gesturing to the chair in front of the big desk in the small office.  “Now, tell me what’s bothering you.”

 

“I-I want to go home. PLEASE! I want to go home. I don’t want to be here . . . I don’t want to be here . . . I don’t want to be here!” Justin kept repeating over and over while tears streamed down his face.

 

Justin wasn’t exactly sure why he was at Brighton in the first place. He figured that maybe it had something to do with the police coming to his house to take his mother’s body away. At first he thought he would be arrested for killing her and that they were taking him to jail... not to a what? Hospital? Mental institution? Well whatever it was, Justin felt it was the wrong place for him to be.

 

“Justin, please calm down,” Dr. Gillcrest ordered in his calming voice. “No one is going to hurt you here. But I do need to ask you some questions. Okay?”

 

Justin tried his best to be calm and not panic. He nodded to the doctor. He would try to answer the questions, but right now he was just so confused. He didn’t know what was going on so he didn’t know how much he could tell this man.

 

“Justin, do you know where you are right now or why you’re here?” Justin chewed at his lip pensively and then shook his head. “As I said before, you're at Brighton Psychiatric Hospital. You left a note for the mailman telling him your mother was dead and asking what you should do. Do you remember that?” Justin nodded his head again but didn’t say more. “That’s good. So, can you tell me what happened to your mother, Justin? Do you know why you’re here?”

 

Justin looked around him at the various people in the small room who were all staring at him. He hated all the people. He wasn’t used to being around so many people. But he knew that what he’d done was bad - really, really, bad - and he knew that he would have to pay for it sooner or later. The voices had always said he was a bad boy. So that must be why they were all looking at him now.

 

“B-b-because of the voices,” Justin confessed, his own voice was so low that the contingent in the room had to strain to hear him.

 

“I see,” Dr Gillcrest mumbled to himself, steepling his hands together and looking over them at the seemingly innocent boy who just might be a murderer . . .

 

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“Brian I would love to help you with the start up capital you need for your agency, but I don’t have any money left to lend. When I went on my little crystal binge, I pretty much fucked away every cent I had . . .” Ted grimaced as he made his confession, one of many that he’d have to make over the long months of his recovery. “I’m sorry Brian.”

 

Brian paced the small space nervously, knowing that he was well and truly fucked, and not in a positive, life-affirming way either. Ted was his last hope and now he didn’t know how the hell he was going to pull this off. Brian had people depending on him to come through and get his business off the ground, and he’d be damned if he let them down. He would just have to think of something else.

 

“Sorry’s bullshit, Ted. Besides you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I got myself into this mess and I’ll damn sure get myself out of it . . . somehow.”

 

After a couple more minutes of idle chatting, Ted shuffled off back down the hallway towards what Brian assumed were the patient rooms. Brian ran an agitated hand through his hair, trying to think. Trying to pull a miracle out of thin air. While he was pacing around the lounge area, wandering back and forth in the cramped space between the seating area and a large bulletin board displaying announcements for the patients and staff which blocked most of his view of the entranceway, Brian was distracted from his own worries by the sound of a new commotion. He leaned over, peeked around the board into the hallway and noticed the blond kid he’d seen earlier being led back down the opposite hallway from where Ted had disappeared. It looked like the entourage he’d had before, including the cop, was now gone. This time the boy only had one clinical aide still with him - a burly, sour looking male orderly who had one hand gripping the boy’s arm tightly and his other hand plastered on the young blond’s ass.

 

“You just come with me, Sweetcheeks,” Brian heard the orderly crooning as he manhandled the boy through the corridor. “I’ll take care of you real good. We’ll just stop in the bathrooms here for a minute or two. That way we can get you nice and clean . . .”


“But, I-I-I don’t want to go to the bathroom. Dr. Gillcrest said I should go to my room. I s-s-should do what the doctors say, right?” The little blond was trying to pull out of the big guy’s hold and back away, instinctively knowing that this oaf meant no good.

 

“It’s okay, Sweetcheeks. I’m a kind of doctor, too. And I just want to do some tests first before we get you settled for the night. Don’t worry, you’ll like these tests.” The big ape said, now gripping the kid tightly with both hands while he tried to drag him into a nearby bathroom.

 

‘Yeah, right! Tests my ass’, Brian thought. He decided to follow the pair into the bathroom. As luck would have it, there was a privacy entrance so that, when the door was opened, no one in the corridor could see inside. Brian walked to the end of the wall and peeked around the edge. The blond youth was pushed up against the bathroom’s tiled wall and struggling against the orderly who was holding him in place with one meaty hand and was using the other to pull the kid’s pants down to bare his pubes. The orderly had slipped one hand down into the kid’s open pants and was roughly fondling his dick, and at the same time was bent over and slobbering all over the kid’s neck and jaw trying to steal a kiss even as the boy thrashed his head wildly back and forth and pushed at the orderly with his hands - to no effect.

 

“No. No. Please. I want to go to my room. I don’t like these tests . . .” the kid was saying in a panicky little voice that was barely audible.

 

“Get your fucking hands off that kid!” Brian screamed as he flew around the wall into the bathroom proper and tore the abusive pervert off the boy, following up with a powerful right cross to the man’s jaw while the guy was still too surprised to respond in kind.

 

Brian turned to the boy and gently took hold of his hand. The kid hesitated a moment, but then, looking up into Brian’s dazzling hazel eyes, he relented and squeezed Brian’s large and comforting hand with his own smaller one. Brian smiled down at the little blond beauty and then led Justin out of the bathroom and down the hall in the direction of the patient rooms.

 

The medical Bluto was still reeling from the blow to his jaw and decided that getting into the beautiful blond patient’s ass wasn’t worth him landing on HIS ass again. Where the fuck had that cockblocker come from anyway? It really didn’t matter though, because he wouldn’t be making that mistake again. At least not until he found some other way to get the pretty new blond boy off by himself.

 

“You . . . you hit that doctor. You hit him in the face. With your fist. Why did you hit him?” The blond kid was stumbling along beside Brian as they walked, looking back over his shoulder at the bathroom entrance more than he was looking forward or at his feet.

 

“First off, I don’t think that was a doctor. No real doctor would be doing that kind of ‘test’. And nobody should be touching you there unless you want them to. Secondly, You . . . you gotta watch out for yourself kid. People lie and pretend they’re something they’re not all the time, and usually they are up to no good . . . case in point.” Brian warned distractedly as he continued to tow the boy down the hallway looking at the plaques on the wall next to each room. “Now, what’s your name, Kid? We need to find your room and get you settled before that big oaf decides to come looking for you.”

 

“Well….how can I tell who’s good or bad? I mean, do they wear a certain type of clothes? Or wear their hair a certain way?” Justin asked totally ignoring Brian’s question, curious to find the answer to his own.

 

“What?” Brian was no longer paying attention to the boy since he’d reached what appeared to be the patient rooms and was busy reading the names by each door as they walked past.

 

“Good and bad people. I asked how you can tell who they are?” Then Brian’s momentary charge finally remembered that the stranger had asked his name. “And it’s ‘Justin’.”

 

“Justin . . .” Brian was so focused on the name issue it took a while for him to grasp the sense of the boy’s other questions. “Ummm . . . good and bad people? You just know, don’t you?” When Brian noticed that Justin still seemed confused, he stopped and took a really good look at the younger man. The kid just stood there and looked up at him with those big innocent blue eyes that seemed so trusting and naive. Maybe this kid really didn’t know . . . “Well, I guess there isn’t any outward way to tell if a person is good or bad. They don’t wear badges or hold up signs or anything.” Brian uncomfortably started explaining. “You can just tell by the way someone treats you. If they hit you and scream at you all the time, or constantly put you down, it’s a pretty safe bet that you’d be better off staying away from them. And if they touch you against your will, like our Meathead friend back there, they’re definitely bad. You just have to listen to your gut most of the time though. Trust your instincts. You’ll know if someone’s a good person.”

 

“Listen to my gut,” Justin repeated, laying one hand on his stomach as if he was taking Brian’s advice literally. Brian chuckled lightly at Justin’s innocent and almost child-like actions. This kid was certainly a refreshing change all right. A bit odd, maybe, but kinda sweet nonetheless. Adorable even. Brian quickly shook his head to free himself of such a lesbionic thought.

 

“Yeah . . . Hey, is this you? Justin Taylor?” Brian pointed to a plaque next to one door that had Justin’s name hastily scribbled on it. When the boy nodded and smiled, Brian pushed the door open and gently shoved the kid inside. “Good. Now, go get yourself settled and make sure you watch out for that guy who was pawing at you. Don’t let him get you alone or cornered again and you should be all right. And if he does try something, you scream like hell until someone comes to help you. Okay?”

 

“Got it Mr . . .” Brian regarded Justin quizzically for a moment then realized he hadn’t given the kid his name.

 

“No ‘Mr.’ . . . It’s just Brian.” Brian held his hand out and the boy tentatively stretched his own out to grip and shake it. “Nice to meet you, Justin Taylor. Now, you take care of yourself.”

 

“Okay ‘Just Brian’. See you later,” Justin responded sullenly still holding onto his belly with one hand as Brian made a quick exit.

 

Brian wasn’t even three steps out the door of the kid’s room before his cell phone started to ring - the special Cake ringtone; ‘Short Skirt, Long Jacket’ - that told him it was his assistant calling. “What’s up Cynthia,” Brian barked as soon as he tapped the icon to accept the call.

 

“Listen to my gut,” Justin said again, looking away from a departing Brian and down at his stomach as if it would spout some profound truth. “Listen to my gut!”

 

Justin’s gut was telling him that this ‘Just Brian’ was the very first good person he’d ever known in his whole life. And he wasn’t about to let him go so fast. He didn’t like this place at all. The room was cramped and there were already two other people in there who he didn’t know. He didn’t like the way the hospital smelled. And so far nobody had been very nice to him here. So, his gut was telling him to get the hell out of there and go with ‘Just Brian’. Picking up the messenger bag that was sitting on his pre-made bed he quickly exited the room on a mission to catch up with his new friend.

 

Brian was still on his phone as he waved to the staff member manning the front desk. He waited patiently until the guy hit the release mechanism that would allow the door to open. As soon as he saw Brian heading through the entrance, the guy at the reception desk went right back to the stack of charts he was supposed to be updating and was completely oblivious to anything else that was going on out in the corridor. Brian meanwhile was so involved in the news Cynthia was giving him that he didn’t see the small blond shadow that scurried after him and caught the door right before it latched closed again. The same shadow that followed the harried Ad Exec out into the darkness of the night.

 

End Notes:

11/1/15 - Not bad for our first day of Nano, huh? 

 

Chapter 2 - Smells Like Team Spirit by samcdee
Author's Notes:

We're having so much fun writing we thought we'd go ahead and give you another chapter today. Enjoy! 

 

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Chapter 2 - Smells Like Teen Spirit.

 

“What’s up, Cynthia?”

 

“Brian you are NEVER going to believe what’s happened. It’s the best news we could have hoped for!” Cynthia gushed so much Brian could almost hear her enthusiastic smile over the phone connection.

 

Brian wasn’t really big on playing twenty questions when it came to important information about his business. He was especially not in the mood for games after learning that the one person he thought he could count on for a little assistance, could offer absolutely zero help in the funding department. Maybe his irritation was evident to Cynthia, even though he didn’t say anything, because she immediately started in on a full explanation.

 

“I finally got through to one of those contacts on the list you left me, Brian. Accelerate Corporation! And, because I’m really THAT good, I even managed to finagle a meeting for you. See, it turns out Adam Dennison, the CEO, is a huge supporter of gay rights and was a major backer for the Basic Rights Oregon Foundation - the group that was instrumental in pushing through the Equal Marriage initiative in Oregon a few months ago. Well, Dennison’s son and his partner are now getting married themselves and I got YOU an invitation to the wedding,” Cynthia crowed, obviously proud of her negotiation skills.

 

“How the fuck did you do that? I’ve been trying to get Adam on the phone for weeks now,” Brian was just as impressed by his Assistant as he’d always been.

 

“Well, I kinda had to promise that you’d be making a substantial donation to the Basic Rights Oregon Foundation . . . Which you WILL do as soon as we get his account and are flush again, so it’s not a total lie,” Cynthia elaborated.

 

“You are fucking amazing, Cynthia,” Brian praised her. “Once we actually have enough money to start paying employee salaries again, remind me to give you a raise. A very small raise . . . for the time being. But you know how huge Accelerate is? If we win this account it will solve all our financial problems. And I know I can win Adam over if I just have a chance to pitch to him. You are truly a miracle worker!”

 

“I’m so glad you are as excited about this as I am Brian, and everything should smooth over soon enough, but . . . Well, the only hitch is that the happy couple is getting hitched THIS WEEKEND. So you’re going to have to get your ass in gear and get to the airport, like, right now. I’ve got you the last two seats on the red eye from Pittsburgh to Portland tonight. It leaves in just over three hours though so you better get a move on.”

 

“No problem. I’ll just stop by the loft and pick up a suit or two and I’m good to go . . . Wait, why TWO tickets?” Brian paused on the sidewalk outside the hospital to hear Cynthia’s explanation.

 

“Ummm . . . Well, there is one. Other. Contingency . . ." Cynthia trailed off, not really wanting to divulge this part of the plan to win over Accelerate and save their collective asses. “You have to show up with your . . . boyfriend,” Cynthia cringed, imagining the withering look Brian was probably casting her way - sure that if Brian’s eyes could shoot fire, she would have been incinerated by one of his glares a long time ago.

 

“That is just fucking great! How am I supposed to show up with a boyfriend when I don’t have one, let alone believe in the concept of ‘boyfriends’?” Brian snarked into the phone.

 

“Well, I didn’t know what else to do, Brian,” Cynthia tried to explain. “Dennison was going on and on about his kid’s wedding and I was trying to lay it on thick, you know. And, well, one thing led to another and before I knew it I was agreeing with him that you were just as excited about the change in the law here in Pennsylvania. Then he sorta made a comment about how you could be the next one getting married and I didn’t really correct him . . . So, when he asked if you would like to bring your boyfriend or partner with you to celebrate the wedding, I didn’t have the heart to tell him you’re like the biggest slut in the world and think that the idea of marriage is only slightly less distasteful than eating pussy.” Brian could hear Cynthia’s amusement over that image even through the phone. “So, the bottom line is . . . you need to come up with a boyfriend, or at least a date, for the wedding. And, if you pull this off, then Dennison will meet with you and hear your pitch on Sunday afternoon.”

 

“Fuck, Cynthia! How the hell am I going to come up with a date for a wedding in less than three hours?” Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes closed, thoroughly exasperated at the circumstances and scrambling to try to come up with someone - anyone - who would be willing to participate in this stupid charade.

 

“I’m sure Michael wouldn’t have a problem pretending to be your boyfriend . . . he practically thinks he is already anyway," Cynthia snickered.

 

Brian sighed, and hoped that she was right. Before he could say anything more though, Brian felt a gentle tap on the back of his shoulder. Spinning around, there was Justin - the kid he thought he had left upstairs in his room in the mental ward. He was standing there nibbling on his lower lip, looking uncertain yet hopeful, with a battered old messenger bag draped across his chest and no shoes on his bare feet.

 

“Hey ‘Just Brian’! I did exactly like you told me and listened to my gut,” Justin said excitedly, rubbing his belly for effect. “My gut was telling me that I didn’t like it at the hospital, and that I should be with a good person like you.”

 

“Justin? Justin, you can’t be out here. You need to go back inside. Does anyone know where you are? Don’t you know how worried they’ll be when they find you’ve gone? And where the hell are your shoes?” Brian gently, yet firmly, took hold of the boy’s shoulders, trying to turn him around and guide him back inside.

 

“But I don’t like it in there. I don’t want to stay there. They aren’t good people. You said to listen to my gut and my gut says they aren’t good people,” Justin wiggled until he’d freed himself from Brian’s grasp. “So I’m coming with you.”

 

Brian briefly closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose again. He could tell a migraine was brewing between his eyes. This was all he needed right now.

 

“You still have to go back, Justin. Not all the people inside are bad - just that one orderly. The rest of them are there to take care of you. To make you better. You can’t just wander around outside without a jacket or shoes or anything, Justin.”

 

“I don’t like shoes. They hurt my feet,” Justin stated matter-of-factly, still smiling trustingly up at Brian. “And I’ve never had a jacket. I was never allowed outside before.”

 

“Enough! I don’t have time for this,” Brian raised his voice, too exasperated by the craziness of this situation to try and stay calm anymore or to figure out the state of the little blond mental patient. “Come on. I’m taking you back inside!” He roughly grabbed hold of the kid’s wrist and started to tug him down the sidewalk.

 

“NO! NO. No. No no no nononono,” Justin’s emphatic cry quickly changed to a panicky repetition as Brian watched the boy begin to hyperventilate and crumple to the ground.

 

Brian immediately let go of the boy’s wrist and knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry, Justin. I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. Just breathe, okay. That’s it. Breathe. Take deep breaths and slowly release them. Good boy. Good,” Brian tried to talk the kid out of his panic attack all the while rubbing the kid’s arms in a soothing manner.

 

Eventually, Justin calmed down enough that Brian was able to get him to stand again. He carefully wiped away the tears that had run down the soft, pale cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. A tremulous smile took form on the beautiful blond’s pink lips at the care which ‘Just Brian’ had taken with him during one of his attacks.

 

As Brian gazed into the trusting blue eyes still swimming with unshed tears and that gentle, yet welcoming smile, he had an epiphany - he could take his barefoot blond to the wedding as his boyfriend. Wait! What was he thinking; he couldn’t take Justin to the wedding. Both the hospital staff as well as the local police would no doubt be searching for the runaway sprite by now. Maybe Cynthia was right, he should at least try to get Michael to go with him to the happy homo festivities. At least then he wouldn’t be in danger of committing three types of felonies including kidnapping. Brian needed to get to Babylon asap before Michael happened to disappear and time was definitely of the essence. There was only one problem . . . what to do with Justin?

 

“Listen to me, Justin. Are you listening?” Justin nodded silently, eagerly awaiting more of ‘Just Brian’s’ words of wisdom.

 

“I have something very important to do and if you can behave yourself you can come along. But you have to understand that eventually you’ll have to go back to Brighton.” Once again Justin looked crestfallen at the mere mention of having to go back to the facility. Brian truly hoped Justin understood that he couldn’t just take him home with him. It wasn’t really his style to begin with, but Justin’s unique situation made it even more impossible in the grand scheme of things. For the moment, though, he would indulge the runaway for at least a little longer.

 

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A short while later Brian and Justin walked up to the entrance of Babylon, ignoring the string of curses and obscenities being hurled at them for completely skipping the line. They were immediately granted access and soon found themselves in a sea of hot, sweaty, beautiful, writhing bodies. Normally, Brian would be scoping out the club for his first conquest of the night, but that would have to wait for another time. He had to find Michael so that he could convince him to play the role of his date. Then they had to get their asses to the airport in order to catch their flight. But it was a damn shame - the offerings tonight were exceptional and it would have been his distinct pleasure to sample as many of the goodies at the club as was humanly possible.

 

Justin was wide-eyed with fascination over the sights and sounds. There were men in really skimpy underpants dancing on platforms with bars around them and people were shoving money in there. He wrinkled his nose a bit as that really didn’t seem all that clean to him.

 

“Just Brian, did you see that - those men aren’t wearing any clothes! Why aren’t they wearing clothes? And what do they do with the money once they take it out of their undies? Do they wash it so that they won’t get germs or get sick?” Brian was, however, saved from answering the young blond when his reason for being there finally made an appearance.

 

Brian spied Mikey standing at the bar taking a swig from his bottle of beer. He pulled Justin along with him and, without bothering to explain anything, Brian launched right into his pitch to his best friend. “Hey, Mikey.” Brian grabbed a hold of the beer bottle and took a gulp. “Want to take a trip to Portland, Oregon? I need a ‘boyfriend’ to attend the wedding of the son of a prospective client with me. Think of it as a vacation; all expenses paid.” Brian made air quotes when he mentioned boyfriend, the bottle of beer he swiped from his friend dangling between the thumb, ring, and pinky fingers of his right hand.

 

“Sorry, Bri. No can do. I have tickets for Comicon this weekend! Captain Astro is supposed to be there and will be signing autographs and everything! I can’t miss that! It’s the first time he’s ever attended one of these cons. It’ll be EPIC!” Michael exclaimed enthusiastically “Anyway, I don’t think Ben would be too crazy about the idea of me going to Portland of all places, and putting on a charade pretending to be your boyfriend.”

 

“Damn it, Mikey! Can’t you act like a grown up for ONCE in your life for christ sake? Captain Astro will always be there, but you only get to be my ‘boyfriend’ once. And I think that Ben would understand that it’s only business. Besides, this is an important client that I can’t afford to miss out on.” Brian was feeling frustrated by Michael’s intransigence - he rarely asked his friends for favors but, inevitably, when he did, they always failed him.

 

While Brian had been pleading his case to his best friend, he hadn’t noticed that Justin had slipped away. It wasn’t until he heard the symphony of whistles and catcalls for some nameless gogo boy to “Take it off, Sweetheart!” that he paid attention to the fact that the left side of his body was decidedly cooler than it had been a few minutes prior. To Brian’s dismay, the nubile blond had managed to get up on the bar and was dancing with the go-go boys. Justin had his shirt off and there were already some dollar bills tucked into the waistband of his unbuttoned cargo pants. He looked to be having a blast.  

 

“Shit!” Brian grumbled and headed in the direction of Babylon’s newest dancing queen.

 

“Justin! Justin, come down from there.” Brian grabbed at the boy’s ankle in order to get his attention.

 

“But Just Brian, dancing is so much fun, and that fat man over there offered me $100 for a hand job . . . I was so excited. I've never had a job!” Justin exclaimed, bouncing a bit on his toes and gingerly pulling the bills from his waist as soon as Brian had managed to coax him down off the bar. “These will need to be washed.” Justin scrunched up his nose as he handed the bills over to Brian.

 

Brian took the handful of wadded up bills and shoved them into his pocket. “Justin . . . I know it’s fun to dance. I like dancing too, but right now I’ve got something else really important I need to do and I can’t be running after you. So, please, just sit here on this barstool and stay put for a bit. Okay? Please?” Brian pressed him down onto the first empty seat he found and hoped the boy could stay out of trouble for at least a few minutes.

 

“Okay, Just Brian. I’ll stay here. But, if that guy with the job comes back, can I tell him yes? I’d really like to have a job, you know. I’ve never had any money of my own before. Although I don’t know exactly what a hand job is . . .” Justin looked at Brian with those artless blue eyes.

 

“No you can NOT tell him ‘yes’ Justin. It isn’t the kind of job you're thinking of,” Brian sighed “Remember what I told you about trusting your gut? Well . . . this is DEFINITELY one of those times when you need to listen very carefully.”

 

Brian reluctantly left Justin sitting on his bar stool, the boy’s eyes almost popping out of his skull every time he noticed something new and outrageous - which there was always a lot of at Babylon. But Brian was running out of time. He had to find someone to play his boyfriend for the weekend. This potential client was just too important.

 

Unfortunately, twenty minutes later Brian still hadn’t secured himself a date. He’d asked Emmett - who was preoccupied with hosting a wedding that weekend and couldn’t get away. He’d asked all the guys he thought of as friends and then had to resort to other options. He’d hit up at least five of the best looking gogo boys who he happened to have casual acquaintances with. He’d even asked Todd, the ubiquitous backroom bottom boy who could usually be counted on to agree to ANYTHING. But so far Brian was batting a big old zero.

 

After Brian was shot down by Todd, he slumped back against the wall of the backroom, at his wits end over what to do. Brian had a pretty wide circle of sex partners but when it came to friends he was pretty much dry in the well. Looking around him, all Brian saw were a bevy of used up tricks that he didn’t really care to ask because there was no way he could bear the thought of spending more than ten minutes with any of them.

 

While he was figuratively pulling his hair out over what to do, he happened to look over to the far corner and saw something that really shouldn’t be in Babylon’s infamous back room . . . a small blond man-child.

 

“Fuck! Justin, what the hell are you doing? Did I not tell you to wait for me at the bar?” Brian pulled the kid away from where he’d been perched on the arm of a reclining chair watching avidly while a rather rowdy threesome had been going at it.

 

“I know you said that I should tell the hand job man ‘no’, but he was being kind of pushy and my gut said he wasn’t a good person. So I had to leave the bar to get away from him. Then a guy came by and told me that if I really wanted to see a show that I should come back here. He said that this was where the action is.” Justin looked back over his shoulder at the trio he’d been watching even as Brian ushered him out of the room. “Did you see what those guys were doing, Just Brian? They were NAKED! Was that what the guy meant by ‘action’? I thought maybe they were filming a movie or something - you know how they always say, ‘Action’ when they start filming a movie? I saw that once on television. But those guys didn’t look like they were acting to me, though. They were pretty serious . . .”

 

Brian pulled the sweet blond after him and as far away from the backroom as he could get him. Justin kept looking back with intense interest at the various acts and stages of undress of the occupants. Brian didn’t think it was possible to be as naive as this kid seemed to be. He wondered again briefly exactly what had brought Justin to the mental hospital in the first place.

 

“In fact, it looked like what they were doing was kind of painful. That one guy was yelling ‘Oh, God! Oh, God!’ and he even started crying at one point. Do you think they’ll need a doctor after they leave? Maybe we should call one for them just in case," Justin offered, his face etched with worry and concern.

 

“No. Justin. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Thankfully, Brian was interrupted before he had to get into the nitty-gritty of explaining anal intercourse to the ingenue by the pinging sound of his cell phone indicating a new text message.

 

Cynthia: ‘Brian where the hell are you? Have you arrived at the airport yet? If not, you better hurry. We can’t afford to buy you another ticket if you miss this flight!’

 

“Shit!” The expletive was uttered loudly and was threaded with frustration as the brunet roughly jerked his fingers through his hair; his shoulders slumping in defeat.

 

“What’s wrong, Just Brian?” Justin asked with a note of concern in his voice and in his expressive blue eyes.

 

Brian looked at the boy standing in front of him. The kid WAS nice looking and seemed like he could be easily managed. When it came to date material, Brian could probably do worse. And since nobody else seemed interested . . . At this point Brian knew it was crunch time, so in his mind he only had two options. He could lose his only ticket to success or he could just say fuck it all and take Justin with him. For all intents and purposes, Justin was here, available, and if Brian were honest with himself, the only person willing to go with him anywhere.

 

“Say, Justin, how would you feel about going to Portland?” Brian asked as he moved them both out the front entrance and waved down the first available cab.

 

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End Notes:

11/1/15 - Artless, innocent Justin . . . He's just too cute, isn't he? 

 

Chapter 3 - All Apologies by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian and his last minute 'date' are on their way to Oregon . . . high altitude high jinx ensue . . . Enjoy! 

 

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Chapter 3 - All Apologies

 

Justin was wearing the complimentary headphones given to him by the airline and bouncing around in his seat, singing along with Moby loudly enough to wake the dead. A good majority of the passengers were getting extremely annoyed at the blond neophyte’s exuberance. Brian had to admit that it was a tad bit embarrassing and the young man was drawing far too much attention for Brian’s comfort.

 

“Justin, can you please tone it down just a bit?” Brian tapped on the blond’s wrist to get his attention. “People are starting to stare and we wouldn’t want the nice pilot to come back here and ask us to leave.”

 

“WHAT WAS THAT, JUST BRIAN? THIS MOBY MUSIC IS REALLY HOT! AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT THE ANNOUNCER MAN SAID. I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, REALLY. MY HEADPHONES DON’T FEEL HOT. THEY’RE NOT EVEN WARM. I REALLY LIKE THE MUSIC THOUGH. I’VE NEVER HEARD ANYTHING LIKE THIS. MY MOTHER NEVER LET ME LISTEN TO MUSIC LIKE THIS.”

 

Brian removed the offending object from Justin’s ears as gently and with as much patience as he could. “Where the hell did you grow up, Justin?” Brian lost his temper just a little bit but immediately tried to rein it back once he saw the hurt look in those big blue eyes. “Don’t you know you can’t yell like that in an airplane? The people around us are trying to sleep. That’s why it’s called a ‘Red Eye’. Because if you don’t get any sleep you’ll have red eyes in the morning. Now, you don’t want to have red eyes when you meet my client tomorrow, do you?”

 

Justin looked totally crestfallen. “I-I-I’ve never been on an airplane, Just Brian. And . . . I didn’t know I was yelling. I couldn't hear because of the music. I’m sorry.” Justin turned to the passenger sitting in the third seat of their row and again apologized. “I’m sorry for yelling.” Then he leaned over the seat in front of them and apologized to all those people as well. And then he did the same for the people behind them . . . Brian stopped the boy before he got up to go personally apologize to the people in more distant rows.

 

“Okay, Justin. That’s enough. I’m sure everyone will forgive you if you just stop singing out loud and yelling about being sorry.” Brian towed the boy back down to his seat and buckled him in.

 

Now that Justin was once again seated, he reached under the seat to retrieve his tattered messenger bag. Opening up the clips, he fished around, pulling out various items including some of the clothing Brian had borrowed for him at the last minute from random gogo dancers at Babylon. Finally, he pulled out a well worn pencil and sketch pad with somewhat frayed and bent edges. After setting the bag back under the seat, he made himself comfortable and flipped through the pages until he got to a new page and started scratching out a sketch.

 

Brian watched in fascination as a portrait of himself began to take form from the lines, scribbles, and finger smudge shadings of those delicate, artistic hands. Justin managed to draw with his right hand and use the left for smudging and blending in the shaded areas all at the same time. It was truly amazing and very entertaining to watch; even the seat neighbor to Justin’s right was riveted by the show.

 

“So you're an artist?” Brian commented quietly.

 

“No. I'm not anything, really. I just like to draw,” Justin responded, not looking up from his sketch. “Besides, my mother said I wouldn't amount to anything. I think that means that I'm not supposed to be an artist. Or anything else . . .” Justin's voice died away as he went on with his drawing, leaving Brian with an unpleasant taste in his mouth after that particular maternal comment - one that was far too similar to what he'd heard from his own parents on occasion.

 

The seat neighbor glanced up and looked at Brian with an appalled and sorrowful look upon hearing this sweet young man repeating his mother’s opinions.

 

“Well, for the rest of this trip, Justin, we’re going to say you're an artist. Okay?” Brian proposed.

 

“But . . . I'm not . . . And I'm not supposed to lie, Just Brian.”

 

“It's not lying, Justin. It's pretending. We're going to pretend you're an artist with my advertising company. It's part of my plan.” Brian gave their nosy seat neighbor a nasty look when he caught the man paying far too much attention to their conversation.

 

"What's the difference?" Justin asked laying down his pencil and looking up at Brian with those confused yet beautiful crystal blue eyes.

 

“Huh?”

 

"What's the difference between lying and pretending? It's the same thing isn't it. I can't lie, Just Brian. Barney always said that lying will only get you into trouble and I don't want to be in trouble.”

 

Brian laughed out loud at Justin’s all too innocent, unjaded way of thinking.

 

“Fuck Barney! I promise you, you will not get in trouble, Justin. And who are you going to believe? Me or some guy in a ratty old purple dinosaur costume, huh? Besides, when you see actors in a movie or on TV they are just pretending, right? They’re not really doctors and lawyers or even homeless. So just think of yourself as an actor who is only pretending to be an artist.” Brian smiled softly and added as an afterthought “Although judging from what I can see - which is really good - there won’t be too much pretending involved.” Justin looked unconvinced, but didn't argue so Brian figured it might be alright after all. “Now, it's getting late, so why don't you put that stuff away and try to get some sleep. Okay?”

 

"But . . . I'm not tired, Just Brian."

 

“Well, then just sit quietly and eat your peanuts.”

 

“I already did,” Justin said, looking so adorably innocent Brian couldn’t help but smile and ruffle the kid’s golden tresses.

 

“Fine. Well, then, go ahead and eat my peanuts," Brian offered.

 

"I already did," Justin softly confessed, giving Brian a shy but guilty glance through silken lashes; his cheeks pinkening in embarrassment.

 

"Justin . . . Okay, just put your headphones back on and listen to some more music, then. But NO singing!” Brian suggested, leaning his head back against the small coach seat and closing his eyes in an attempt to get at least a little bit of sleep.

 

He wasn’t at all surprised when a few minutes later, he felt the petite blond’s warm body snuggled tightly into his side and his breath tickling his neck as he whispered in his ear. "Goodnight, Just Brian, I hope you don’t have red eyes when you wake up.”

 

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“Excuse me, Sir,” Brian was rudely awakened by a tapping on his shoulder to find one of the flight attendants crouched next to his seat. “I'm afraid we have a bit of a problem. Your . . . friend . . . has been in the bathroom a very, very long time. I'm not sure what's going on, but perhaps you could come help?”

 

"Um . . . Uh, well, sure. Whatever,” Brian stuttered, only half awake, but got to his feet and followed the flight attendant towards the lavatories in the rear of the airplane.

 

The attendant indicated which of the two johns Justin was apparently occupying. Brian rapped his knuckles sharply against the door. There wasn't any immediate reply.

 

“Hey, Justin? Justin, what's going on in there? Do you need something? If you're done you need to come out already, someone else might need to get in there,” Brian tried to sound reasonable and calm as he cajoled the young blond out of his hiding place.

 

"I-I-I can't figure out how to flush the toilet, Just Brian,” Justin’s voice came through the doorway sounding upset and very distressed.

 

“He's a first-time flyer," Brian explained to the flight attendant who was still hovering nearby. “It's okay, Justin. It's just a little different than your usual toilet. You see the knob on the wall behind the bowl? Push that.”

 

“It says ‘flush’ right on it," the unhelpful flight attendant added with some exasperation.

 

“The letters are all worn off," Justin commented, still from inside the john.

 

Brian gave the flight attendant a knowing smirk. “That's okay, Justin. Go ahead and push it.”

 

Which Justin apparently did, judging by the loud whooshing noise they all heard from where they were standing in the hallway outside the lavatory. Unfortunately, the loud whooshing noise was accompanied by a loud screaming noise, as the door to the bathroom flew open and a panic stricken Justin fell out of the small cubicle into Brian's arms. Pretty much the entire rear section of the airplane was startled awake by the young blond’s high-pitched screeching. None of them looked particularly happy with the method used to awaken them.

 

“I don’t like that bathroom, Just Brian . . . the toilet is all funny and kind of stinky, and way too noisy. And it was kind of scary, too.”

 

"You did fine, Justin. Just fine. Now, let's go back to our seats and try to sleep some more, okay?” Brian led an unprotesting blond boy back down the aisle towards their seats near the center of the plane.

 

With a little bit of effort, Brian managed to get the boy resettled in his seat, his sketchpad and pencil in hand, and quiet enough so that he himself could drift back into a light doze. He was starting to wonder how long this flight could possibly be and also if there was any way he could force the energetic young blond to try and sleep. Would it be completely out of line to get the kid stinking drunk? At least that might put him to sleep. Brian abandoned that thought, but settled on at least getting the young man a beer. That would keep him occupied for at least a little while, right?

 

Justin happily accepted the aluminum can and small plastic glass handed to him a minute later by the flight attendant. Brian wasn't paying too much attention - he was trying to block out the babbling as the boy explained that his mother had never allowed him to have sodas or anything else out of a can but that he'd always wanted to try one of these drinks after he saw it on television. All Brian could think of after that comment was that he'd never met a more sheltered person in his life. In a way, Brian was rather honored to be in part responsible for introducing all these new life experiences to the boy.

 

All these new life experiences including, apparently, Justin's very first taste of beer. The unsuspecting youth took a healthy mouthful of the brew. His eyes bulged out a bit and the next thing Brian knew, a yeasty beer geyser was sprayed on the back of the seat in front of Justin and the splatter made its way onto Brian and Justin’s right side neighbor. Justin of course, was wearing the bulk of the spew and sat there frozen in place looking like he was about to cry.

 

Brian dropped his head back against the headrest, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Just when he thought the situation couldn’t get worse, it did. The flight attendant came bustling over with towels to wipe down the back of the seats. Unfortunately, the row still smelt like a brewery as did the three passengers sitting there.  

 

“I’m sorry sir, but if your friend here continues to cause problems, we’ll have to ask you to disembark at the next layover.” The flight attendant was completely exasperated with the mischievous blond.

 

“Yeah, yeah. He doesn’t get out much . . .” Brian offered a little petulantly, getting a little pissed off at the flight attendant’s irksome tone of voice. “But, really, you guys should be paying us to fly with you - where else are you gonna get all this free entertainment?” He shot back with his snarkiest smile, causing the flight attendant to frown at him and quickly tramp back down the aisle to commiserate with his companions.

 

As soon as they were mostly mopped up, and Brian had quelled the little blond’s repeated attempts to apologize some more, he pulled out his cell phone, flipped it into ‘Airplane Mode’ and pulled up the Sudoku app he sometimes played with when he was killing time. Picking the easiest level, he handed the phone over to the kid, who seemed to pick up on the game concept quickly - as soon as he got over exclaiming over the tiniest television screen that he’d ever seen. Brian figured that Sudoku should at least keep the boy quietly entertained for a few hours, so he once again leaned his seat back and tried to get some shut eye.

 

Brian had apparently figured wrong, though . . .

 

“Sir. Sir, I’m sorry to bother you again, but your friend . . .” the prissy flight attendant was once again tapping at Brian’s shoulder with that disapproving look on his prune-like face.

 

“What the hell has he done this time, Poindexter?”

 

The attendant led Brian up to the front of the plane, shoving aside the privacy drape between the main cabin and the first class seats, then pointed to the second row of seats - one of which now held his missing blond boy. Justin was still playing the game on Brian’s phone, but he had spread himself out across both large, well-cushioned seats, the leg rest extended and his feet up. He had also appropriated one of the much nicer sets of headphones that they gave out to the first class passengers and his head was bopping along to whatever music he was listening to as he quietly hummed. In front of him, he had a line of small plastic bowls set up on the pull down seat tray - most of which were empty, but with the last two still containing a sampling of peanuts.

 

“Justin, come on. Get up. You can’t sit here.” Brian said as he knelt down next to Justin and pulled off the headphones. “We have to go back to our own seats.

 

“Why can’t I sit here, Just Brian? I was just getting comfortable. And those other seats are too small.” Justin smiled sweetly at Brian, giving him a quick flutter of his long golden lashes.

 

“But we didn’t pay for the big seats, Justin.”

 

“Can we pay for them now?”

 

“No. We can’t. You have to come back and sit with me.”

 

“But, Just Brian . . .”

 

“What is WRONG with your boyfriend?” the snotty flight attendant asked in a condecending voice, looking to the First Class flight attendant to back him up in dealing with this apparently disruptive passenger.

 

Brian stood and with one step was right up in the man’s face. “Nothing’s WRONG with my boyfriend. What the fuck’s wrong with you? It’s not like he’s hurting anything here. He just doesn’t understand the rules. So just back off already, Poindexter!”

 

“WELL . . . I never!” the attendant scoffed as he turned to leave..

 

“Maybe you should someday. Of course, you’d have to take the fucking stick out of your ass first!” Brian rejoined and then turned to Justin, adding in a much gentler tone, “Come on, Justin. We have to get back to our seats before they throw us off the plane.”

 

“Can I take the peanuts?” Justin asked, cradling one of his bowls in his hands as he crawled out of his comfy nest.

 

“Those are First Class peanuts, sir,” Poindexter said imperiously.

 

“You can take my peanuts, young man,” offered the passenger in the seat on the other side of the aisle with a friendly smile.

 

“I already did,” Justin stated sheepishly.

 

The passenger gave an amused chuckle, “So you did. Just let the kid have the bowl of nuts. I’ll take care of it. And while you’re at it, let them both stay in first class. There are plenty of free seats. I’ll even pay for it out of my salary. This young man reminds me of one of my grandsons. Let me introduce myself, I’m the CEO of this airline, Stan Kingston.”

 

Justin smiled back at the man with his gloriously huge sunshiney smile and then waved before crawling back into his nice BIG seat after hearing the robust gentleman’s announcement. Brian shook his head, amazed at the way this little blond imp managed to somehow, once again, get his way. It was truly amazing watching the innocent kid work his wiles on almost everyone around him.

 

“I’ll go get our stuff from the back. You stay put for once, please, Justin,” Brian ordered.

 

“While you’re at it, please make sure you bring his SHOES,” Poindexter not-so-kindly reminded. “We DO have a rule that passengers are not supposed to be walking in the aisles without their shoes on.”

 

“I don’t like shoes, Angry Man . . . they hurt my feet," Justin explained, holding out his bare feet and wiggling his toes as evidence. “And those floppy shoes you borrowed from the guy in his underpants at the dancing place really don’t fit right anyway, Just Brian. They’re too big. They make me trip when I try to wear them.”

 

Brian turned fifty shades of red as everyone in first class looked over at him, waiting for an explanation. Kingston chuckled from his nearby seat. The two waiting flight attendants smirked at him. But, instead of answering, Brian simply turned his back on them and stalked into coach to retrieve their stuff.

 

When Brian returned, he was relieved to find Justin where he’d left him. Brian took the aisle seat and stowed their bags under the seat in front of them, relaxing back into the much more spacious seats with a hefty sigh. Justin smiled over at him and held up his bowl of peanuts in order to share his bounty. Brian huffed a little amused laugh and took a peanut.

 

“Just Brian . . . Did you really mean it when you told that Angry Man I was your boyfriend?” Justin asked a little shyly.

 

Brian rolled his eyes and again shook his head, not really sure how to deal with this kid and all his awkward questions, but knew that he didn’t want to hurt him. “Yeah . . . I guess I did,” Brian conceded.

 

With a blinding smile aimed at Brian, Justin cheerfully proclaimed, “My mother told me I'd never be anyone's boyfriend . . .”

 

“Yeah, well, I guess she was wrong then!” Brian stated and stole another peanut out of Justin’s bowl.

 

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End Notes:

11/2/15 - Forgot to mention in the first couple of chapters that this story is a QAF adaptation of the movie 'Barefoot' . . . which is itself a remake of an earlier German movie of the same name . . . If you haven't watched it, and you like very sweet little romcom's, it's worth the time. TAG

Chapter 4 - Heart Shaped Box by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian and Justin have arrived at their hosts' home. But, before they can get settled in for the weekend, Justin's got some more new experiences to suffer through. Although, suffering isn't really the word I'd use here . . . Enjoy! 

 

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Chapter 4 - Heart Shaped Box

 

The limo service arranged by Adam Dennison to pick Brian and Justin up at the airport pulled into a gated driveway some 50 minutes later. Justin had spent the entire drive fiddling with every gadget in the back including the television, the stereo, the refrigerator, all the light switches and the built-in tablet-style computer console. The driver alighted from the car and was at the side opening the door for them before they’d even had time to reach for the door handle. As soon as they exited the limo, they were greeted by a stylishly dressed middle aged man, who promptly gathered up the meager belongings the twosome had in their possession.

 

“This way if you please, sirs . . .” intoned the butler in a polite but crisply stuffy voice.

 

The way that Justin was looking around at the grounds and now inside the mansion, you would think his head was attached with a ball-joint swivel. Justin had never seen such beautiful flowers before, and all the glass furnishings looked to him like a sea of diamonds. The house looked like something from that show ‘Dallas’ that his mom always liked to watch - although she had never allowed him to watch it with her. He was so busy looking up and down and all around him that he tripped over his own bare feet. Twice he almost fell. Thankfully Brian’s strong arm around his waist kept him from landing on his ass.

 

Once inside the impressive mahogany and glass front doors, the butler handed off their bags to a young chambermaid, and then gestured for them to follow him down a long, marble-floored hallway. If Brian hadn’t kept hold of Justin’s elbow, the boy would have long since wandered off to examine some detail of the extravagant furnishings more closely. After pulling open another set of double doors, the butler ushered them into a large room furnished with wall to wall bookcases, large comfortable leather chairs and couches and small desks around the perimeter. In the middle of the room, Adam Dennison and his wife were both lounging on one of the butter soft leather sofas enjoying a snifter of brandy while Adam puffed at a large cigar and Mrs. Dennison paged through what appeared to be some fashion magazine.

 

“Mr. Brian Kinney and Mr. Justin Taylor,” announced the butler in a very self-important voice before he backed out of the room, closing the doors in his wake.

 

Both of their hosts stood up and started to walk towards Brian and Justin with polite smiles of greeting on their patrician faces.

 

“I’m an Artist!” Justin announced enthusiastically, completely out of the blue. “I work at Brian’s company. As an Artist. I draw. And paint. And . . . draw.” Justin proclaimed with a nervous smile while bouncing on the balls of his bare feet.

 

“Well, that’s very . . . nice. Isn’t it?” Mrs. Dennison responded with a confused look on her face as she looked over at her husband for guidance before extending her hand to shake Justin’s. “I’m Simone Dennison. You must be Justin. And you, of course, are Brian. It’s so nice to meet you. We’re thrilled you two could come join us in the celebration of our son’s wedding.”

 

Meanwhile, the man of the house stuck out his own hand towards Brian. “Kinney? Nice to meet you in person - although I’ve already heard a lot about you by reputation alone,” Dennison put on his business hat and motioned for them to be seated “Good of you to come all this way. I was very impressed speaking to your assistant. She sounds like a woman who knows what she’s talking about and she told me that your advertising could do wonders for my company. I certainly hope she’s right, young man.”

 

Never one to be outdone, Brian let his own business persona take over and extolled what he and his company could do.

 

“I’m confident that you’re going to love what we propose. My company is an agile boutique agency, with fresh ideas, which means we can cater to your specific needs better than any of the more established advertising firms out there. We have created what I believe will be the perfect advertising campaign that will increase your national market share.” Brian patted the large art portfolio that was slung over his shoulder where he had all the materials he would be showing the man when he finally got a chance to do his presentation.

 

“I look forward to what you have to show us,” Dennison nodded stiffly. “However, I’ve been warned by my wife that I’m not allowed to talk business at all until Sunday afternoon or she’ll take the pruning shears from her rose garden and castrate me with them.” Dennison laughed heartily at his little joke while Justin cringed away from Simone Dennison, backing up until he couldn’t go any further and was actually standing on Brian’s shoe clad feet, holding both his hands in front of his own crotch protectively.

 

“Are you alright dear? Do you need to avail yourself of the facilities?” Simone asked with obvious concern.

 

Justin shook his head violently from side to side and scooted around Brian’s body so that the larger man was between the dame with the purportedly bloody shears and his own very delicate anatomy.

 

*Ahem* “Yes. Well . . .” Clearing his throat, Dennison wasn’t sure what to make of the strange little blond’s behavior, but he supposed that since the boy was an artist, some eccentricities had to be allowed for - wasn’t that true about all artists? “Anyway . . . Simone and I won’t keep you down here yapping all morning. I’m sure you two are exhausted after taking the red eye from Pittsburgh.”

 

“My eyes aren’t red. They’re still blue. I checked in that mirror on the door when we got in the limo at the airport,” Justin piped up from his hiding place behind Brian’s shoulder. “Just Brian’s eyes were a little red, but then he put these drops in them. Now they look just like always - a pretty brown with gold and green and little speckles of black. He’s got the prettiest eyes I think I’ve ever even imagined. If I still had my colored pencils I could draw them. But I had to leave my colored pencils at the house when they took me to the hospital . . .”

 

“Well, isn’t that just special, and how wonderful of you to bring it to our attention.” Brian interrupted before Justin could blurt out anything more about hospitals or his mother. “I think we DO need to freshen up and rest a bit before all the festivities start tonight.”

 

“Of course. Please forgive us for keeping you standing here,” Simone graciously apologized. “Alfred. Would you please show our guests to their room.”

 

With all the niceties seen to, they took leave of their hosts and followed Alfred up a huge curving staircase that looked like it could be right out of ‘Gone With The Wind’. Justin’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head at the sight of such opulence. Brian was almost as impressed, but he was better able to contain his awe. And, mostly, when Brian looked around him he just saw the huge dollar signs that winning this guy as a new client would mean to him and his fledgling agency. Everything was riding on this weekend. Shit! He hoped that coming here for this wedding - and bringing a crazy little blond mental patient as his date - wasn’t the worst possible way to go about everything.

 

“You’ll be in the Sunset Suite, gentlemen,” Alfred announced when they reached the end of the long hallway that led into the west wing of the house. “Everything should be prepared for you, but if you need anything, simply pick up the house phone on the desk and press ‘0’ to reach the housekeeping staff. Enjoy your stay.”

 

Alfred wasn’t even all the way out of the room, though, before Justin was tugging at Brian’s shirt sleeve and hissing at him in a loud stage whisper. “Just Brian, we can’t share a room. We’re not married. My mother always said . . .” Justin was in high anxiety mode over the single room and bed they were given.

 

“Justin, I don’t care what your mother said. We don’t need to be married to share a room. Trust me, there is nothing wrong with it.” Brian tried to calm the anxious boy.

 

“. . . it’s not proper and you can get pregnant sharing a room and there’s only one bed.” Justin continued on in a breathy panic as if Brian had said nothing at all and was really working himself into a tizzy. The distraught boy was twisting his fingers together and bouncing again as well.

 

Brian just closed his eyes for a moment in aggravation and tried to remain patient. He so did not want to get into a discussion about the birds and the bees.

 

“Justin! JUSTIN!” An exasperated Brian walked up to the agitated blond and gently grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into the stormy blue eyes. “Listen to me . . . Are you listening? It’s okay for us to share a room and a bed. Remember, for this weekend we’re boyfriends. There’s nothing improper about boyfriends sharing a room or a bed, and neither of us is going to get pregnant.” Brian didn’t want to go into all kind of details . . .

 

“Are you sure that it’s okay for boyfriends, Just Brian?” Justin sounded relieved but still uncertain.

 

“Yes, I’m sure. I share beds with other guys all the time. Besides you’re too old to be listening to everything your mother tells you,” Brian stated in a tone evidencing much expertise. “By the way, how old ARE you, Justin?”

 

“I turned nineteen a few weeks ago. My mother made my favorite cake - chocolate chocolate chip! It’s the only time we ever have cake.” Justin seemed wistful, as if he was looking inside at some singular memory that Brian didn’t think he should intrude on.

 

“Well, that’s good. At least you’re legal. I mean, it’s bad enough that I basically kidnapped a mental patient, at least it wasn’t an underaged mental patient,” Brian muttered to himself, shaking his head. Lifting up his arm and taking a whiff of his pit, Brian recoiled at the stench. “Shit, I fucking stink. I’m taking a shower first and then I think we BOTH need to get a nap in before tonight.” Brian shucked off his shirt and tossed it on the bed next to where Justin was already seated staring at Brian with eyes as big as dinner plates.

 

“Ummmm….I-I think I should leave, Just Brian.” Justin stammered nervously then whispered conspiratorially “You . . . You’re taking off your clothes out here?”

 

“Duh. If I shower with my clothes on they’ll fucking get wet! And I think you should stay put here in the room where I know you won’t be getting into any more trouble, Justin.” Brian ordered, giving the boy a menacing look to enforce his directive. “I promise I’ll only be a few minutes. Then you can shower, too.”

 

Brian took Justin’s lack of response as tacit agreement with his plan and immediately started unfastening the pair of slacks he’d worn on the airplane. The moment Brian shucked his slacks down below his hips, however, Justin let out an ear-splitting shriek and dived under the pile of decorative throw pillows that had been displayed artistically on the bed. He even pulled one large purple and green striped cushion over his head so that he couldn’t see out from underneath at all.

 

“Justin! For fuck’s sake, what’s the matter with you now?” Brian asked, his patience with the kid’s endless stream of odd behavior finally running out.

 

“You don’t have any clothes on, Just Brian! You . . . You’re naked! And your . . . your thingy is just . . . it’s just dangling  there . . .” Justin’s voice, although muffled by the pillow, sounded mortified.

 

“Fuck! Justin. What the hell am I going to do with you? Damn it! Come out from under that pillow before you suffocate.”

 

Brian stalked over to the huddled shape cowering under the pile of pillows, grabbed hold of one ankle and pulled the boy out from under his makeshift shield. Although he’d managed to get the blond innocent up into a standing position, Justin continued to shield his eyes from Brian’s naked body with the big purple and green pillow. Brian tried to grab it, but Justin fought him, and jerked the pillow back again, this time wrapping his arms around the cushion as tightly as he could.

 

“Put the fucking pillow down, Justin, and look at me. Look at me! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being naked. Shit. I don’t have anything you don’t have yourself.” Brian admonished.

 

“But . . . But, I’ve never seen anyone naked before, Just Brian. I mean, other than myself. And well, that was only when I took a bath or something. Because my mother always said it wasn’t right to . . .”

 

“Fuck what your screwed up mother said, Justin!” Brian was totally losing it now, disgusted once again by the fucked up teachings Justin’s mother had filled his head with. “You know what? As soon as we get back to Pittsburgh, I’m going to go find your mother and give her a piece of my mind. I can’t believe she told you all this crazy ass shit. No wonder you’re so confused by stuff out here in the real world. Didn’t she realize how much she was fucking you up with all this nonsense?”

 

“She’s dead.” Justin replied in a small, sad voice from behind his pillow.

 

“What?”

 

“You can’t give her a piece of your mind. She’s dead.”

 

In his haze of anger and impatience, Brian wasn’t sure he’d heard Justin correctly. Did the kid just say his mother was dead? Brian’s frustration immediately drained away and he was left feeling guilty for haranguing the kid.

 

“Justin . . . I didn’t know . . . I didn’t mean to . . .  Shit.” Brian ran a hand through his already tousled hair and took a deep breath. “Hey, please, put the fucking pillow down, Justin. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be scared or ashamed of. Okay?”

 

Reluctantly, Justin let the pillow slide down far enough so that his eyes were clear but he couldn’t look any lower than Brian’s chin. Brian couldn’t see the rest of his face, so he didn’t know if the boy was upset by his unthinkingly unkind words about his mother or what. But, shit, those big blue eyes were so full of pain and grief, it fucking melted Brian’s heart.

 

“Justin. I promise you. There’s absolutely NOTHING wrong with seeing other men naked. Men see each other naked all the time - like when I go to the gym and change clothes in the locker room or take a shower. It’s considered completely normal. You shouldn’t be ashamed of being naked around other men either. You’re beautiful. You’ve got a beautiful body - well, at least what I can see of it. So, please, just put the pillow down, okay?”

 

Slowly, Justin lowered the pillow from his face but kept his eyes closed for a split second more before looking up at Brian.

 

“Good boy. Now, look at me, Justin. See. There’s nothing to be scared of, right? I’m just another guy,” and Brian did a slow pirouette so that Justin could look at all of him. He might have imagined it, but he thought he saw a spark of attraction in those expressive blue orbs. “Nothing scary, right?” Justin shook his head and smiled a little even. Brian decided to press his luck a little, hoping that Justin wouldn’t go into total meltdown mode. “Now, let’s compare.” And he reached out, grabbed hold of the hem of Justin’s shirt and, before the boy could voice a protest, pulled it off over the golden mop top. “See? We’ve got the same parts up top at least. Nothing scary at all?”

 

With a shyness that was totally innocent but also somehow totally erotic as far as Brian was concerned, Justin looked down at his own chest and then at Brian’s. He took a slightly tremulous hand and rubbed it along his own pec and across the nipple, making it instantly pop into a delectable bud. He giggled a bit since the erect nipple was sensitive and tickled a bit. With his other hand, he reached out tentatively and rubbed a finger along Brian’s nipple too. Brian sucked in an aroused breath as his nipple stiffened at the untutored touch. He must have moaned too, because Justin looked up, seemingly shocked or worried by the sound.

 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Just Brian . . . I just wanted to see if you were ticklish, too.”

 

“You didn’t hurt me, Justin. I like when you touch me. In fact, I wouldn’t mind in the least if you touched me again.” Brian moved cautiously closer to Justin as though he were a skittish colt, picking up Justin’s hand and laying it back against his own chest right over his heart.

 

Justin smiled up at Brian so openly and brightly he practically glowed. His small soft hand trailed lightly over Brian’s pec, teasing at the nipple again, and then slowly trailed lower down to Brian’s abdomen. The hand stopped well above his navel though - clearly Justin wasn’t quite ready for THAT. But that didn’t mean Brian was ready for this explorative little interlude to stop yet, either.

 

“Would you mind if I touched you too, Justin?” Brian whispered, his voice dropping an octave due to the waves of desire that were sweeping over him.

 

Justin didn’t answer with words, instead he mirrored Brian’s motions, reaching out for his hand and placing it on his own chest in answer. At that moment Brian knew that no matter what happened after their game of make believe, he wanted to be a part of so many of the firsts that Justin was sure to experience. Without thinking, Brian leaned in and gently brushed his lips against Justin’s. Those soft, tender lips. Brian didn’t know if he’d ever kissed lips that were that soft and warm and so very sweet. And he would have gone on kissing them, too, if Justin hadn’t abruptly pulled back, looking up with concern into Brian’s eyes.

 

“I suppose that my mother was wrong when she told me that kissing would lead to pregnancy too?” Justin asked with a hint of mischief in his stance.

 

“I’m pretty sure that YOU don’t have to worry about getting pregnant any time soon, Justin.” Brian replied and then leaned in for yet another taste of those velveteen lips.

 

Before the kiss could really develop into anything more, though, Brian felt Justin’s hand pushing against his chest. He relented easily. No sense in pushing things too far too fast with this neophyte. They had all weekend, right? With a knowing smile, Brian stepped back and let his hand drop from where it had been caressing Justin’s slightly muscled pecs. Shit! He didn’t have to look down to know that he was already half hard. And if just seeing a naked man had spooked the kid, Brian knew seeing him in all his horny glory would probably not be good. Brian now needed that shower more than ever - although it looked like it would have to be a cold shower.

 

As Brian disappeared into the bathroom, Justin watched his retreating form with a smile, touching his lips lightly and wondering when they could do that again. Maybe Brian was right and his mother had been wrong about everything she’d ever told him. He knew he had a lot of learning to do.

 

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End Notes:

11/3/15 - Next up, the boys meet the grooms . . . and make a rather unpleasant discovery. Off to write more. Bye! TAG

Chapter 5 - Come As You Are by samcdee
Author's Notes:

It's time for the Rehearsal Dinner . . . as well as a host of new experiences for our wide-eyed Justin. Enjoy! 

 

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Chapter 5 - Come As You Are

 

Brian was waiting for Justin in the foyer with Mr. and Mrs. Dennison, wondering why it was taking the kid so long to come down from their room. It was almost time for all of them to head into the Banquet Room for the rehearsal dinner and, as far as Brian was concerned, the sooner the dog and pony show was over, the better. He was starting to worry a bit at how tardy Justin was, and was just about to head upstairs to find him, when the young man in question started to make his way down the ostentatious staircase.

 

Despite Brian’s inherent understanding that Justin was a little different than most other people, he still wasn’t prepared for the sight of his delinquent date’s choice of dinner attire. To start with, Justin was, of course, shoeless, That, in and of itself, wasn’t so bad. Brian could even deal with the rather tight, cock-defining black leather pants that hugged Justin’s obviously well proportioned package and showed off his perky bubble butt to excellent advantage. But what he wasn’t prepared for was the barely there, two-sizes-too-small, indigo button down shirt woven with shimmering threads, which in the bright light of the huge chandelier that hung over the staircase was almost completely see through. Brian could definitely see the definition of the boy’s pecs and the dusky colored nipples that peaked through the thin material.

 

Justin himself was undeniably aware that his clothing was a little on the risque side, since he was trying to cover his nipples with the palms of his hands as he minced his way down the stairs in the overly tight pants. Unfortunately, none of this helped Justin to keep his balance, and as he neared the bottom of the stairs he tripped and unceremoniously tumbled the rest of the way down. Brian sprang forward to help him up with the assistance of Alfred the Butler and another guest that Brian hadn’t yet been introduced to.

 

The Dennisons, trying to be polite hosts, averted their eyes and said nothing about the ensemble or the kid’s baseball slide to the floor. Luckily, one of the maids entered right at that moment and announced that dinner was served. Everyone pulled their attention from the more than mortified boy and filed their way into the Banquet Room to take their seats.

 

“Justin, are you okay?” Brian asked with concern as he noticed that the blue eyes were welling up with unshed tears.

 

Brian quickly checked the kid over for open wounds or broken bones but didn't find any serious injury. Normally, Brian Kinney wouldn't have acted so solicitous, especially not towards someone who'd just made a total fool of himself - in front of a potential client no less. On top of that, they hadn’t even known each other for a full twenty-four hours. But there was just something about this kid that made Brian act uncharacteristically protective.

 

And the weirdest part was that they hadn't done anything more than share that one chaste kiss before they showered earlier in the day. After that, Justin had reverted to his usual shy self, and Brian had respected the kid’s space. Yeah, they had both lain down together in the same bed with Brian taking a nap while the kid doodled in his sketchbook, but other than the kid snuggling up against Brian's side, nothing had happened. So, why it was that Brian felt so enthralled over the silly little twat was a complete mystery to him.

 

“I'm okay, Just Brian. I'm just . . . I just don't know how to pretend right, I guess. I-I’ve never been anywhere and this place and these people - they're so fancy. I don't know how to act around them. And these clothes you borrowed for me . . . They don't seem to fit right, Just Brian. I don't want to mess up your plan though . . .”

 

“Shhhh. It's okay, Justin. I know you're doing your best,” Brian rose to his feet and pulled Justin up with him. “About the clothes - we didn't have time last night to get you anything better, and right now I'm afraid I can't afford to go out and buy you something more appropriate, but we’ll figure something out. Okay? In the meantime, try not to worry so much because even though the outfit isn’t quite right for this affair you are stunning. Just be yourself and don't let all the ‘fancy’ people intimidate you. Remember, for this weekend, you're the artist boyfriend of a really gorgeous, super-successful advertising genius. None of these other losers can say that, so you're already way cooler than them right from the start! Just go in there, walk straight and tall, with your head held high like you belong here.”

 

Justin sniffled a little but nodded his head, squared his shoulders and let Brian pull his shirt straight. When he was as presentable as he was gonna get considering his choice of apparel, Brian placed Justin’s hand into the crook of his arm and led him into the large dining hall where the evening’s events were supposed to take place. Most of the guests had already arrived and were seated around a huge table that appeared to seat at least twenty, if not more. Alfred gingerly showed them to a pair of vacant seats on the far side of the table just a few seats down from the head of the table where Dennison was holding court. Simone was seated at Adam’s right hand. To her right was a young man that Brian hadn’t yet been introduced to, but judging from the resemblance, Brian figured that was probably the Dennison’s son, Marvin.

 

Brian nodded affably to his hosts as he politely pulled out Justin’s chair for the boy and then assumed his own seat. No sooner was he seated though, when the man sitting next to Marvin, uttered a strangled little squeak and promptly began to choke on the sip of champagne he’d just taken. The coughing and sputtering of course drew everyone’s attention to the gasping Groom Number Two. Groom Two got himself under control and downed the rest of the glass in one gulp, but not before Brian Kinney had gotten a good look at the man and realized that Marv’s intended was a former trick of his. Brian didn’t remember the guy’s name - he NEVER bothered to remember names - but he did remember the really memorable time he and the guy had enjoyed at the Chicago White Party about three months ago. Brian remembered this trick particularly well since they’d had a rather wild night together involving handcuffs and a leather riding crop. It really WAS a small world after all . . .

 

Brian immediately looked away from the guy, thankfully distracted by the glass of champagne that a waiter served him right at that moment. He wasn’t usually one to let a former trick cause him any awkwardness. Not even a former trick who was apparently slated to marry the son of a potentially ass-saving client. Brian decided he’d just ignore the guy and hope he returned the favor. That was always the best way to handle these things.

 

“Oh My Word! It’s like drinking perfume!” Justin exclaimed, his happy voice ringing loudly through the clamor of the table. “I’ve never had champagne before . . . This . . . this is wonderful,” he smiled at his seat neighbor to his left, still marvelling at his first taste of champagne, and easily providing the table with a distraction while Groom Two mopped himself up.

 

“Well, I would hope so considering how much this stuff costs per bottle!” Mr. Dennison chuckled, as did the rest of the guests, while Justin took another approving sip from his glass and grinned at everyone.

 

That seemed to be the signal for the usual round of toasts to begin. Mr. Dennison stood up and gave the first speech welcoming all the guests and saying how thrilled he was to have them join in the celebration of the marriage between Marvin and Allistaire. Everyone raised their glasses to the soon-to-be-shackled pair. Next, Simone joined her husband and they jointly went into a little speech all about the sweeping legal changes that allowed same sex couples to be legally married and thanked all their guests for joining them in supporting such a wonderful cause. Dennison even made a point of singling out several of the guests who were particularly generous supporters to their ongoing political work in this area, and included Brian in that number based, apparently, on the donation that Cynthia had promised on his behalf. Brian demurred with grace and a charming Kinney smile.

 

After the requisite toasts and well wishes had been doled out, the first course of dinner was announced and the formally attired waiters butled around the large table making sure to serve each guest quickly and efficiently. Justin was in the process of animatedly telling the older gentleman on his right all about how he was an Artist at Brian’s company and that they had a plan, when one of the waiters came up on Justin’s right and placed a large crystal plate in front of him decorated with a garnish of lettuce and sprigs of parsley and some kind of unidentifiable light-brown, gelatinous, molded substance placed dead center.

 

At first Justin flinched away from his plate with an almost horrified expression. Then he bent forward and took one long, very audible sniff before exclaiming, “It smells like cat food! Just Brian, I can’t eat this. I THINK it’s ‘Fancy Feast’. That’s cat food!” Justin again turned to the elderly gentleman on his right and reiterated, “I think it’s cat food!” Then, looking down the table to where Simone Dennison was sitting looking offended, Justin raised his voice even louder and asked, “Are you really going to eat this, ‘cause I think it’s cat food.” Brian slid down an inch or two in his chair before leaning in to Justin and attempting to quiet him down.

 

“I’ll have you know that’s $300 a serving imported French pate de foie gras,” Simone answered in her snootiest society voice. “And, it’s Marvin’s favorite.”

 

“Actually, it’s really NOT!” Marvin answered from his seat as he too pushed away the plate full of pate.

 

“You know, they force feed the geese until their livers distend. It’s so sad,” piped in Allistaire, who seemed happy to be able to insinuate himself into the conversation. “I saw a documentary on it one time. I actually cried.”

 

“Oh, damn it all! Alfred, take this crap away and bring in the salads!” Dennison ordered.

 

“I’m sorry, I did it again didn’t I, Just Brian? I keep messing everything up.” Justin leaned in and whispered to Brian, his voice sounding worried.

 

“No, Justin. You didn’t mess anything up. If anything, your timely intervention prevented us from having to eat cat food and then pretend like we enjoyed it. We should all thank you.” Brian reassured his date with a surreptitious squeeze to Justin’s thigh under the cover of the table cloth. Justin’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink because of both the gentle touch as well as the note of approval in Brian’s voice.

 

As soon as the pate was removed and the salad course was served, the conversation around the table drifted into more normal topics. Brian found himself caught up in a discussion with the middle aged woman seated on his left about the democratic party and its chances in the next election cycle. He still kept one hand on Justin’s thigh though, being mindful to keep his hand from roaming further. With half an ear, he was also listening in on Justin’s conversation with the gentleman who had turned out to be an art dealer from Seattle. And, to Brian’s utter amazement, he noted that Justin was more than holding up his end of the discussion - talking coherently about modern art and abstract impressionism in the twentieth century. Apparently the little blond Pretend Picasso actually DID know quite a bit about art and artists. Which only added to the enigma about who Justin Taylor really was and spurred on Brian’s curiosity. There was clearly a lot more than met the eye to this crazy little imp.

 

“So, Kinney, tell us about this new advertising agency you’ve started,” the booming voice of Adam Dennison broke into Brian’s moment of reverie and essentially put Brian back into the spotlight for the whole table. “Considering the economic downturn we’re in right now, isn’t it a bit risky to be starting up a new agency?”

 

“Well, I know that some people may say it’s the wrong time to start a new business and that it’s an economic death sentence,” Brian straightened his tie and continued. “But I say . . . Don’t believe a fucking word of it. This is probably the absolute best time to go into business.”

 

Brian’s comment, stated so succinctly, shut up both Dennison and most of the rest of the gathering, although their host was still looking at him a bit doubtfully.

 

“Actually, Adam,” Justin burst into the lull in the conversation, eager to back up his boyfriend, “Just Brian and I have a plan. And it’s a very good plan. But since I don’t want you to be castrated with Simone’s rose garden shears - which would be very messy and painful and ruin this nice dinner - we can’t tell you about it until Sunday.”

 

Justin’s comment earned him a round of tittering laughter and several smiles. Even Simone now seemed appeased and ready to forgive him for the pate incident. It was rare that anyone listened to her when she tried to curb her husband’s penchant for conducting business at every possible opportunity - including social events where she thought his business acumen wasn’t totally appropriate. So Justin’s little reminder to her Adam went a long way towards the eccentric young blond artist ingratiating himself with her.  

 

“Thank you, Justin, dear. At least someone around here listens to me,” Simone cooed and gave the boy a huge smile.

 

The rest of dinner thankfully passed uneventfully. Afterwards, the entire assembly was ushered into an adjoining sitting room for after dinner drinks and conversation. Brian and Justin were formally introduced to Marvin and his fiance as well as several of the younger members of the wedding party. Initially Brian figured that Allistaire would be the only familiar face among the crowd, but unfortunately, once some of the grooms’ other friends joined them, Brian realized he recognized at least two other faces from that notorious White Party.

 

The conversation, as always at this type of event, circled back around to the happy couple; how they met, when they realized they were in love and all the sappy things the couple had ever done together. Brian felt like he was about ready to throw up. However Justin seemed enthralled by the conversation. As soon as there was a break in the ongoing Marvie/Allikins Lovefest, Justin piped in cheerfully about his own relationship.

 

“Just Brian is MY boyfriend,” Justin crowed. “I’m the artist boyfriend of a really gorgeous, super-successful advertising genius. Isn’t that cool! My mother said I’d never be anyone’s boyfriend and now look at me! Oh, and I’m an artist!”

 

Nobody really knew WHAT to say to that, until one of the grooms stepped in to save the conversation. “So, how long have you two been together?” Marvin asked Justin.

 

“Going on two days now!” the bouncing boy enthusiastically claimed. “Brian saved me from this bad guy who was pretending to be a doctor. Then he took me out to this dancing place where I almost got a hand job, which is when we decided on our plan and then came here.”

 

The room had gone deathly silent with everyone more befuddled than ever. Brian just opened and closed his mouth like a guppie struggling for air as he wracked his brain for a plausible explanation. Justin looked just as glowingly happy though as always.

 

“Justin can be so literal sometimes . . . what he means is that we’ve been together for the last two days traveling.” Brian clarified, hoping that this would satisfy the guests. And to further distract them he looked over to one of the other guests and said, “Do I know you from somewhere? Your face is very familiar.”

 

The man he addressed was one of those he’d recognized earlier. This guy had been staring at him pretty much nonstop ever since they’d left the dining room. Not that Brian really wanted to confront any of these guys or raise the specter of old fucks, but he wanted even less to take a chance that someone would push Justin for more information. If anyone were to ask the kid questions about his family or pry for details on how they met, Brian’s little charade would be uncovered. Brian therefore chose the lesser of two evils and opted to take on the White Party contingent.

 

“I was in Chicago a few months ago and you could be this guy’s twin . . .” Brian speculated, raising that Kinney eyebrow and looking the dude directly in the eyes.

 

“Well I’m surprised you would remember ME, but now that you mention it, I was in Chi-Town on business not that long ago and happened to stumble into this club on the Eastside of the city where YOUR name was being bandied about quite frequently. From what everyone was saying, you have a certain . . . reputation, Mr. Kinney.”

 

“I have a reputation with regard to a number of things. You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Brian let the words drip like venom from the fangs of a deadly snake. He really didn’t know this fuckwad and he’d be damned if he was going to sit idly by and be subjected to the fucking inquisition.

 

“I was talking about your reputation as a total slut who’d fuck anything that moved and damn the consequences . . .” the guy stated with a nasty grin as his eyes shifted sideways, alighted on Allistaire briefly and then refocused on Brian with a heated glare. “I just hope I’m wrong and that your sense of discretion is stronger than your self-restraint.”

 

“I’m a little more discerning than that. I didn’t fuck you after all . . . So, what’s this? Sour grapes? But, whatever. And, on that note, if nobody minds, I would really like to take my vociferous little boyfriend here and turn in for the night. I’m sure Allistaire and Marvin understand . . . young love and all you know.”

 

Brian didn’t wait for a reply from the room’s occupants as he swiftly pulled Justin to his feet and escorted him toward their temporary quarters. Justin was just a bit tipsy after indulging in the freely flowing champagne during dinner, and he tripped along at Brian's side, ogling more of the gaudy decorations and art on the walls of the mansion as they went. Once they finally got into the Sunset Suite, the kid was still so wired up, that Brian worried it would take a lot more effort to get him settled down.

 

Once they entered their room, Justin did this little spin and pulled Brian along. “Let’s dance, Just Brian!” Justin rose up on his toes and laced his hands around Brian’s neck swaying his body softly from side to side.

 

“Not right now, Justin,” Brian was worn out not only from the red eye flight the night before but also because he’d been traipsing after Justin all evening. “Aren’t you tired? I mean, I took a nap but you didn’t sleep at all, I don’t think. You’ve got to be about ready to drop.”

 

“No! I’m not a bit tired and I couldn’t possibly sleep,” Justin let go of Brian’s neck and spun around and around again until he got dizzy and had to stop, although he didn’t stop giggling. “Don’t you understand? I never did any of this before. Before I met you I never went anywhere or did ANYTHING! My mother said it wasn’t safe to go outside so we never left the house. NEVER! And now that I’m here, I don’t want it to ever stop. I want to dance and drink more perfume and talk about art with old men who smell like burnt wood and beer. And I want to play games on telephones that look like miniature televisions and fly in airplanes that have scary loud toilets and endless supplies of peanuts. I want to ride in limos and cars and taxis. I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t want to miss anything!”

 

Justin looked over at Brian, his face glowing with passionate enthusiasm. Brian realized that someone acting as Justin was would normally set his teeth on edge and make him want to run. But even Justin's most annoying behavior was accompanied by such innocence and exuberance; an exuberance that Brian, even as a child, was never allowed to show. Somehow, that made Brian happy and let him see things that he had missed. He felt like he was seeing the wonders of the world through Justin's unsullied eyes for the very first time.

 

At the same time, Brian felt overwhelmed by how incredibly beautiful this crazy wild child was. He couldn’t help himself. That zeal was not only infectious but also downright captivating. Brian felt the stupor and tiredness melt away as he walked over and took the boy in his arms, spinning them both around this time. He even caught himself laughing along in a complementary way, his glee matching the boy’s joyous mirth.  And he didn’t even bother worrying that this was all completely out of character for Brian Kinney.

 

Before he could stop himself, Brian took another look at that sweet laughing face and then pulled the boy into his arms for a delightful, tender, yet chaste kiss. The so-soft lips were intoxicating. Brian felt himself harden with the innocent passion the kiss invoked. However, while he would have been content to keep the kiss brief and light, Brian was pleasantly surprised when the tip of Justin’s tongue brushed against his lips instinctively requesting entry before deepening the kiss and letting his tongue explore the wet heat of Brian’s mouth. The kissing went on and on and on. Strangely, though, Brian was not feeling at all pressed to move things along. For once, he was perfectly happy to just make out like a randy teen for some indeterminate period of time. It wasn’t until the boy’s inexperienced but intrepid hand snaked it’s way under his shirt and the agile fingers started to caress the skin of his belly that Brian started to seriously overheat.

 

“Fuck, Justin . . . If I don’t stop now . . .” Brian pulled away and huffed a breath trying to clear his head - both of them. “I . . . I . . . I think I need another shower.”

 

Brian abruptly turned on his heel, practically fleeing from the hot young blond that was too innocent and far too inexperienced for all the things that had already popped into Brian’s mind. For now, Brian would have to curb his wanton desires for his blond traveling companion. Brian secretly hoped though, that some day in the not so distant future he could introduce Justin to a broader range of the pleasures of the flesh. But, until such time, a cold shower and a visit from Rosy Palmer would have to do.

 

Brian was so involved with his relief methods that he didn’t even realize that he’d left the bathroom door ajar. Pretty much all of his grey matter was concentrated on his hard and throbbing dick to the exclusion of all else. He vaguely realized that he was probably moaning a bit loudly. He might have even been aware through his lust-filled haze that he was repetitively panting out Justin’s name. He really didn’t care though. It just felt so good and he was so incredibly turned on that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

 

“Justin . . . Justin . . .”

 

Justin had been a little disappointed when Brian had basically run away from him so abruptly without any real explanation. He was still standing there in the middle of the floor of the guest room and looking around him, savoring the way his lips were still tingling. He was also surprised by the fact that his willy felt hot and was doing stuff that his mother would probably tell him was evil or sinful. It didn’t feel evil though. It felt wonderful. And, while he was still standing there trying to make sense of all these new feelings and experiences, he heard Just Brian calling out his name. So, of course Justin went to the bathroom door to see what Just Brian wanted. Through the crack of the door, Justin could see Just Brian under the shower with his head thrown back and his hand on THAT part of his body, with his fingers curled around IT and his arm moving rapidly.

 

“Um . . . Just Brian,” Justin called out through the partially opened door. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be doing THAT. My mother always said not to play with my willy for two reasons. One, because it’s not a toy like a doll or a train set. And two, it can lead to pregnancy.”

 

Hearing those words in Justin’s voice was as good as a cold shower. Brian’s erection withered to flaccidity in record breaking time. “Right . . . Thanks for the warning, Justin.”

 

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End Notes:

11/5/15 - Next up, the day of the wedding and we also learn a little more about Jusin's background . . . Off to write more. TAG

Chapter 6 - In Bloom by samcdee
Author's Notes:

So, you wanted a little more insight into Justin's past . . . Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 6 - In Bloom

 

After the jackoff interruptus of the night before, Brian made sure that the bathroom door was securely closed and locked when he showered the next morning. He was feeling a bit horny after not only going to bed unsatisfied but also spending a restless night with his little blond dynamo alternately curled up asleep at his side or sprawled all over the top of him. Once he’d even woken up to find Justin’s warm small hand unconsciously resting on his lower abdomen only centimeters from his half-hard dick. Needless to say it hadn’t been the most tranquil night he’d ever spent. No wonder Brian was tired and randy as all get out when he’d finally woken up this morning.  

 

On top of all that, Justin had slept fitfully most of the night. It had taken Brian quite a while to get Justin calmed down enough to get to sleep in the first place. The tipsy little sprite had been dancing all over their room and giggling for a good half hour before Brian finally coaxed him to the bed. However, even Justin, with all his seemingly bottomless energy, finally gave in to the nearly 36 hours of constant activity they’d experienced since they’d met. Unfortunately, that exhaustion didn’t equate to a calm night of sleep for the kid. He had woken Brian at least twice, thrashing through some nightmare and crying out inarticulately in his sleep. Both times Brian had managed to quiet him without Justin even waking. It was incredibly disconcerting to Brian, though. And it made him wonder just what horrors a sheltered kid like Justin might have suffered through in order to engender those kind of nightmares.

 

It wasn’t at all reassuring to find Justin missing when Brian did finally wake up. The bed next to him was already cold, so the boy had to have been gone for a while, too. But, because of his continued concern for Justin, all Brian had time for this morning was a very quick and ultimately unsatisfying whack off in the shower. Then he was determined to go hunt down his wayward blond.

 

Brian was still dressed in nothing but a towel though, when there was an insistent knock on the guest room door and, without waiting for an answer, it was pushed open a crack. 

“Sorry to bother you, Brian,” Simone Dennison apologized as she openly ogled the acres of golden skin that weren’t covered by Brian’s towel. “But, I thought maybe you could come and have a little heart to heart with Justin. According to my cleaning staff, he’s been up since dawn cleaning the bathrooms.”

 

“The bathrooms?”

 

“To be specific, right now he’s in MY bathroom . . .” Simone clarified with a small but affectionate  smile.

 

“I’ll be right there,” Brian replied as he grabbed the first pair of pants he could find. Brian seemed to be on autopilot unconsciously sliding the rough material over his slim hips. Unfortunately for the irritated brunet, he didn't notice that the trousers he currently sported were Justin's. They were too short and way too tight, but Brian didn’t have time to find his own so he just dealt with it as he scurried down the hall after Simone Dennison.

 

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Brian followed Simone to the other wing of the huge house and into the master bedroom suite. She indicated the way to the bathroom and then, giving him a sympathetic smile, she excused herself. Brian was thankful that he wouldn’t have to do this - whatever it would entail - with an audience watching. He padded up to the bathroom quietly and leaned around the edge of the doorframe without saying anything, trying to get an idea of what he’d have to deal with before he made himself known.

 

Inside the opulent marble and chrome furnished bathroom, Brian found Justin on his knees in front of the sink, dressed in a pair of Brian’s jeans and one of his tee shirts, with a scrub brush in one hand and a bottle of all-purpose cleaning spray in the other. The boy seemed intently focused on the section of the marble topped countertop that he was wiping at furiously. The boy’s usual sunshine bright smile was conspicuously absent this morning - replaced by worry lines where his brows were furrowed and the corners of his mouth drooped.

 

“Justin?” Brian finally spoke up after watching for several long moments.

 

“Just Brian! Good morning,” the blond iterated, his brilliant smile returning as soon as he looked Brian’s way.

 

“Justin, you know you don’t have to do that, right? I’m pretty sure the Dennison’s have a whole staff of cleaning people to scrub their toilets and shit for them,” Brian said as he stepped into the room and then sank down to one knee so he’d be on the young man’s level while they spoke.

 

The boy simply shrugged and once again concentrated on his self-appointed task, “It's what I do. I did all the cooking and cleaning for my mom. I’m used to it.”

 

“Yeah, well, even so, you don’t have to do that here. We’re guests. You’re not expected to clean anything all weekend.”

 

“My mother said this is how you earn love . . .” Justin admitted in a pained little voice, avoiding making eye contact with Brian while he spoke.

 

Brian was literally floored by that little maternal tidbit - he rocked back onto his heels as he grappled with the instant surge of rage he felt as a result. “Well, your mother didn't know what she was talking about, Justin. You just love people ‘cause you love them. And anyone who says you have to act a certain way - or fucking clean their toilets - in order for you to EARN their love is just full of shit! That’s not love - that’s indentured servitude.”

 

Justin’s already hunched shoulders sagged a little more but he was still frantically scrubbing at the same spot on the edge of the marble counter. Brian gently reached out, curling his fingers around the thin wrist and tugging carefully until the boy’s arm relaxed and the hand holding the scrub brush flopped down into his lap. Justin’s gaze remained lowered, locked on that brush, as if it were the only anchor holding him to this place and time.

 

He couldn’t bring himself to meet Brian’s eyes, but after a few silent moments, the boy did finally speak again. “I don’t deserve love, Just Brian . . . I . . . I . . . My mother is dead . . . because I killed her.”

 

“Justin, what are you talking about? What do you mean you killed her?”

 

Brian didn't believe what he was hearing. Justin, a murderer? How could this sweet innocent young man ever do something like that? He must be mistaken. Maybe Brian heard him wrong. How could Justin believe that he was a murderer?

 

“My mother . . . I-I-I think it was because of the voices . . .” Justin's reply was so hushed that Brian found himself having to lean forward to hear - and even then he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.

 

“Voices . . . So, there were voices? Is that the reason why…” Brian let the rest of the question remain unspoken, not sure he really wanted to know any more.

 

While Justin continued to simply sit there lost in his memories, Brian’s mind was reeling. There had to be more to the story and he knew he shouldn’t let his mind jump to conclusions - especially conclusions that he didn't really want to reach - without giving Justin a chance to explain further. But he also knew that he didn't want to have this discussion here; there was no telling who might be listening in. And Brian still had a mission to complete and a client to win, damn it. Justin's confession - if that's what it was - would have to wait.

 

“Come on, Justin. Let's . . . Let's go back to our room, okay?” Brian gathered the trembling young man into his arms and guided him to his feet. “It'll be okay, Justin. Somehow, it'll be okay.”

Justin seemed almost back to his normal self - well, normal for Justin at least - by the time they muddled their way through the large buffet brunch their hosts had laid out in one of the smaller dining rooms. At least, judging by the humongous quantities of food that Justin managed to shovel into his face, his appetite wasn’t being affected by his restless night and early morning house cleaning drama. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself - sampling pretty much everything on offer and ecstatically exclaiming over all the new foods that he’d never tried before.

 

Brian was actually a little grossed out by the way the kid was piling all sorts of odd taste combinations together. He could sort of see the mango and papaya relish that the boy slathered on the popovers. He could even stomach the eggs benedict served with lobster, crabmeat and asparagus spears. And, while Brian would never touch the gooey cheese encrusted baked breakfast casserole himself, he didn’t think Justin was completely out of his mind when the boy ladled an extra couple of spoonfuls of sour cream on the top of his hearty serving. But, why in the world the kid who refused to eat pate thought it was a good idea to garnish his scrambled eggs with the smelliest green cheese Brian had ever encountered and top the whole thing off with a healthy dolop of black caviar, he had no clue.

 

When Justin finally made it over the the table where Brian was waiting with his dry wheat toast and egg white omelet, he was juggling three large plates of food. Brian winced at the mere thought of ingesting that many calories in a single meal. Justin didn’t seem to notice. He just dug right in. However, when the kid got to the caviar garnished eggs, he made a rather unpleasant face as soon as he tasted the salty delicacy.

 

*Bllllaaaaahhhh* Justin shuddered as he stuck his caviar-coated tongue all the way out and let the half-masticated mess drip back onto his plate. “I think they added too much salt to these eggs, Just Brian. They’re icky. Somebody should tell Simone’s cook. Maybe the salt and the sugar got mixed up - I did that one time and put salt on my bowl of strawberries and it was horrible. Of course, my mother made me eat it anyway because it’s bad to waste food. But somebody should tell them before they do it again!”

 

“It’s not the eggs, Justin. It’s the caviar you put on top,” Brian explained, using the tines of his fork to point out the little black roe.

 

“Caviar? Really? I heard about caviar in a movie my mother let me watch once. I’ve never had it before though. Hmmm. I’m not sure that I want to eat little fish babies,” Justin commented and then immediately set about carefully scooping every single tiny black egg off into a separate little dish. “If we throw them back into the ocean will they still hatch and become fish? That would be neat. I read a book about sturgeon one time - those are the fish they get caviar from. They’re really big fish. And endangered. Do you think we can save these babies?”

 

“I don’t think so, Justin. I think once they’re processed for eating that’s it.” Brian explained, noting the momentarily crestfallen look on his breakfast companion’s face.

 

“Oh, well. At least I can say I’ve eaten caviar now. Even though I didn’t really like it. But I think I’ll skip the fish babies next time I have eggs.” Justin grinned sunnily at Brian, already over the sadness of the demise of all those baby sturgeon, and went back to sampling everything on his various plates.

 

Brian picked at his own breakfast aimlessly. He was was still ruminating on the shocking disclosures of the morning. Looking at Justin now, though, he just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that his radiant, guileless, golden boy, whose smile was almost more blinding than the rays of sun streaming through the windows of the dining room where they were seated, was responsible for someone’s death - let alone the death of his own mother. The kid looked more like a beam of sunshine than a heartless killer. It just didn’t make any sense. But there had to be something in his past that would account for the disturbing nightmares and the occasional bout of depression. There had to be more to the story. Brian found, to his surprise, that he was now invested enough to want to investigate further and, if necessary, help in any way he could.

 

“Are you going to eat all of that, Sunshine?” Brian asked when he noticed through the haze of his personal musings that the boy was finally slowing down.

 

“I have to clean my plate, Just Brian. It’s not polite to waste food,” Justin said, although he was eying the remainder of the bounty on his plates with a doubtful expression.

 

“Bullshit! That’s another of those fucked up rules your mother told you that you should completely disregard. If you’re full, you don’t have to eat any more. Period,” Brian announced and immediately stood up, removing the plate Justin had been pushing his food around on. “It’s not healthy to stuff yourself just because you don’t want to waste food. But, in the future, if you’re concerned about wasting food even when there’s a large variety of foods you would like to try, just put a little of each thing on your plate. You can always go back for more.” Brian lectured, mentally berating himself for sounding more like Justin’s father at the moment than his date for the weekend.

 

“That’s a great idea, Just Brian!” Justin looked so innocent and appealing right at that moment that Brian simply had to lean over and kiss those soft coral pink lips once again - so much for feeling fatherly.

 

“You do know, Sunshine, that my name isn’t really ‘JUST Brian’, right? You could simply call me ‘Brian’ . . .”

 

“I thought that was a funny name, but since you never said otherwise . . .” Justin’s cheeks had turned a delicate shade of crimson in embarrassment, “Brian it is then!”

 

Brian pulled the beaming boy up out of his chair and wrapped his arms around the slim waist. As the bashful smile got even bigger, Brian felt his own lips succumbing to a similar silly smile and, for once, he didn’t even mind. Yeah, if he were home and knew that his friends or acquaintances were watching, he would probably feel ridiculous. But here, now, with this intriguing and enigmatic young man in his arms, it seemed perfectly natural to be standing there smiling at each other like a couple of lovestruck dorks. Oh, how the mighty Stud had fallen . . . but what the fuck! He was expected to play the role of the happy, tolerant, patient boyfriend for his hosts until he officially won the Accelerate Corporation account. Right? And wasn’t this how boyfriends acted?

 

Brian figured that was as good an excuse as any for why he was acting so completely out of character.

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“Damn it! There’s a fucking stain on this tie,” Brian tore off the necktie and threw it down on the bed in a fit of pique. “I really liked that tie and I was planning on wearing it on Sunday when I pitch the campaign to Dennison . . .”

 

“Wow! How many ties do you have, Brian?” Justin was peeking into the tie travel case that Brian had brought which contained about six ties. “And why are they all black?”

 

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“That’s NOTHING, Sunshine. You should see my closet at home. I probably have about fifty ties total. Of course most of them I don’t wear much because they’re out of season or last year’s style. And I only brought black with me because that way they would all go with any of the suits I usually travel with.”

 

“Do you think any of them would go with THIS?” Justin asked with evident doubt as he held up an atrocious black and white, sequin studded jacket that was decorated with bright red cuffs and collar and appliques representing the four suits of a deck of cards on the left breast pocket. That jacket was only marginally worse though than his second option which was a shimmering gray lame jacket that looked more like a used garbage bag than a dinner jacket. Neither would be helped much by the addition of a necktie, no matter how elegant that tie might be!

 

 

 

“Shit . . . Sorry about that, Sunshine. Those were the only suit jackets any of the guys at Babylon had on hand. “Look, I have to go do this cocktails thing with Dennison and his cronies, but I’ll try to get back up here and help you figure out what to wear before the wedding. Okay?” Brian unthinkingly left a quick peck on Justin’s cheek before he zoomed out the door, still in the process of tying on the replacement tie, before Justin had even had a chance to reply.

 

Justin was still sitting there on the bed staring blankly at his wedding garb options, his hand covering the cheek where Brian had left his last kiss, when Simone Dennison tapped at the open guest room door. Justin looked up at her with a confused and dazed glance that went right to the older woman’s heart. This young man was certainly endearing even though he was sometimes a bit odd . . .

 

“Justin, dear, how are you getting along? I was just passing by and I saw you looking so lost . . . Is there anything I can help you with?” the motherly woman asked, stepping a few feet into the guest suite.

 

“Oh, I’m fine, Simone. Thank you.” Justin responded politely and gave her that winsome smile of his.

 

“What DO you have there?” Simone couldn’t contain her curiosity over the clothing she saw strewn across the bed next to where Justin was sitting.

 

“Brian said he’d come up and help me figure out what to wear to the wedding after he has cocks and tails with Adam. But I don’t think either of these is going to be right.” Justin looked up at Simone and shrugged a little helplessly. “Brian borrowed these for me from some of his friends . . .”

 

“Goodness . . . who exactly are these friends of Brian’s? Card Sharps, Strippers or Drag Queens? Maybe all three?” Simone asked as she picked up the black, white, and red clown suit and scowled at it. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” She added and tossed the jacket back where she’d found it. “I think you’re right, though, dear. These will NOT work. Not for you, at least. Now, let me think . . .” Simone pulled Justin up to his feet and then walked around so she could look at him from several angles. “Hmmmm. Yes . . . Yes. I think you’re about the same size Marvin was back in college. And, if I’m not mistaken, we should still have several of his old suits around somewhere. Yes! I think this will work. You just come with me, dear, and we’ll have you all spiffed up in no time!”

 

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“Excuse me, Alfred. Have you seen Justin around? He was supposed to be waiting for me to help him get ready for the wedding, but I was a bit late getting back to the room and now I can’t find him anywhere.” Brian had been searching frantically for his lost little blond boy for over a quarter of an hour now and was starting to get a little frantic since there wasn’t a lot of time to get ready for the wedding.

 

“I believe he’s with Mrs. Dennison, sir. They should be down shortly,” the unflappable butler announced and immediately scurried away on whatever errand he’d been on when Brian interrupted him.

 

Brian was partially relieved to know that Justin wasn’t completely lost, but he also didn’t know what to think about his slightly crazy date hanging out with Mrs. Dennison for long periods of time. Justin WAS prone to saying things . . . Oh, well. There was no helping it now. All Brian could do was hope for the best.

 

Luckily, Brian didn’t have too long to stew over the ramifications of Justin and Simone bonding. Just as he was about to turn and head back up the stairs to his room to freshen up and recheck his own clothing, Adam Dennison came down the stairs and waved him over. Since Dennison was sporting a large happy grin, Brian assumed that Justin hadn’t done anything to embarrass him too badly.

 

“If you’re looking for your boyfriend, I’m afraid that my wife got hold of him and they’ve been having some ‘Girl Time’ together. Better prepare yourself, Kinney,” Dennison teased, pulling Brian around so that they were both standing together at the foot of the massive staircase and looking upwards.

 

Within seconds, Simone Dennison came into view. She was wearing a beautiful peacock blue evening gown with a tasteful spray of rhinestones sprinkled down the split seam that showed off a slim, well-toned left leg and a low-cut decolletage. She was a very handsome woman for someone in her mid-sixties and looked quite nice even in the rather revealing gown.

 

“Good evening, Gentlemen,” Simone demurred as she regally descended the stairs and assumed a place by her husband’s side. “I’m sorry if we kept you waiting, but we had a lot of primping that needed to be done this afternoon. I think you’ll be very pleased with the result, though.” Simone tittered and actually batted her eyelashes at Brian in a coy manner that would have annoyed him if he thought for even a second she was being anything other than friendly. “Now, may I present to you my very dear friend and my personal ‘Ken’ doll for the day, the new and improved, Justin Taylor.” She raised her arm and pointed to the landing above.

 

All eyes swooped upward to the top of the stairs and Brian held his breath, nervously anticipating what was to come. Only a heartbeat later, though, all his breath left him in a huge whoosh as he got his first glimpse of Justin. The boy - the man, Brian mentally corrected himself, since THIS was no mere boy anymore - had moved out of the shadows of the hallway and was now posed at the top of the stairs looking down on them and waiting for Simone’s signal before he descended. Of course his hostess hesitated, giving the two waiting men time to admire her creation in full.  

 

And there was a LOT to admire. Instead of the mussy and borderline kooky kid that Brian had known for the past two days, he saw a beautiful, graceful and very stylish young man. Justin was wearing an elegant cobalt black suit with narrow-cut trousers, a ludlow fit jacket with a narrow satin shawl collar. Beneath the jacket was a matching, crisply starched black shirt. There was a stunning dark lapis blue satin tie and matching pocket square that pulled the whole ensemble together. Oh, and Justin was even wearing shoes for once - a pair of highly shined black dress shoes that almost made the shoe diva in Brian go into shoegasms.

 

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Even beyond the suit, the youth looked spectacular. Brian thought that he’d had his hair trimmed and a maybe even a facial. He looked radiantly happy and so fucking beautiful that Brian couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Brian wasn’t sure how it was possible for that dazzling sunshine smile to have gotten any brighter, but somehow Justin had managed it. And the sparkling blue eyes, accentuated by the dark blue tie, seemed to strike a reciprocal glint in Brian’s own usually somber hazel eyes.

 

Brian knew he was going to be the envy of every fag at this shindig.

 

“Sunshine . . . wow. . . You’re going to outshine the grooms! You’re absolutely gorgeous!” Brian gushed, moving so that he was closer to the foot of the stairs.

 

“It was Simone’s idea . . .” Justin blushed and tried to deflect the praise he was so unaccustomed to receiving.

 

“Well, young man. Get down here so I can show you off properly,” Simone ordered, with a glowing smile of her own at how well her surprise was being received. “Come along!”

 

Justin, in his need to please Simone, hurried to accommodate her request. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t really used to wearing shoes, and between that and moving so fast to meet her demand, he missed a step. He stumbled, almost falling, except that Brian had already been on his way up the stairs at the time and was able to steady Justin with an outstretched hand, preventing the youth from making another undignified deja vu tumble down the stairs. The only thing injured this time was his dignity - which was quickly healed by the approving look in Brian’s eyes.

 

And, without any further mishaps, the young couple was heading out the door behind their hosts on the way to the wedding.

 

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End Notes:

11/7/15 - Next up, the wedding! 

Chapter 7 - Scoff by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Our beautiful boys get to strut their stuff at first the wedding and then at the reception. Let's cheer them on! Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 7 - Scoff

 

Brian was more than thrilled to walk into the large church hall where the wedding was taking place with GQ Justin on his arm.

 

The whole way over to the church in the limo with the Dennison’s, Justin had been going on and on about his ‘Beauty Spa Day’ with Simone. The kid sounded tickled pink to have been so pampered, and it was all new to him, so he was pretty much raving over every little bit. From what Brian could gather amidst the disconnected jumble of words, Justin and Simone had started off with facials and massages. Justin had liked the facial - although he made sure to tell everyone that he HAD already washed his face himself that day - but he wasn’t sure if he liked the massage part, mostly because the masseuse had kind of scared him.

 

“Her name was Helga. She was really, really, really big!” Justin was explaining while Simone just sat back and listened with an amused smile. “You wouldn’t believe how big she was, Just Brian!” In his enthusiasm, Justin even forgot to drop the ‘Just’ from the Brian. “Her hand was bigger than my whole head.” He held his own hand up to his face in demonstration. “Simone said it was okay, but I really didn’t know, especially when Helga told me to take off all my clothes and get up on her table. I know you told me it was okay for boyfriends to be naked together and that there was nothing you had that I didn’t have too, but I don’t think Helga has the same pieces. She had these big huge bosoms and when she bent over me I was even kinda scared that I would suffocate under them . . . and, anyway, I didn’t think it would be right to be naked with Helga. She isn’t my boyfriend. In fact, I don’t think she is even a boy but, then again, I’m not really sure because I’ve never seen a girl who was THAT big, you know? So, anyway, I took off my shirt but not my pants and then I got up on the table. She said to lay down on my tummy. And then she did all these THINGS to me. It was wonderful. I mean, at first I wasn’t sure I liked it because when her hands touched my back it was really hard - her hands are really hard, like hammers - but then, after a while it felt good and all my muscles got sort of sleepy. I didn’t let her rub my front parts though. I didn’t think I wanted her hammer hands near THOSE parts. But it was still nice to have my back be all sleepy.”

 

When the kid finally stopped to take a breath he found that all three of the other passengers in the limo were laughing at him and he blushed a dark pink. But he was still smiling. Brian found himself once again thinking - against his will - that this kid was fucking adorable. It just added to the mystery about why he was in that mental hospital in the first place.

 

“After Helga left, Simone and I had a mani/pedi!” Justin proceeded to show Brian his shiny, freshly buffed and trimmed nails. “That’s short for manicure and pedicure, not a petty little man - which is what I thought at first too. It means they do your fingernails and toenails all pretty. Don’t they look nice? You should see my toenails, too! They’re painted the same color as my tie with fine silver glitter! I wanted to have my fingernails the same color but Simone told me you probably wouldn’t like that. She said I could do my toes any color I wanted though. So I choose the blue. Now I’m color coordinated right down to my toes!” He grinned happily as he started to reach down to remove a shoe in order to show Brian this work of art.

 

“That’s okay, Sunshine. You can show me your color coordinated toes later tonight.” Brian all but grabbed the boy’s hands to stop him from the display, giving Justin a slightly amused grin. ”Thanks, Simone. I think Justin really enjoyed your little treat,” Brian turned to thank their hostess for all her efforts. “And that suit is amazing. I’m really grateful. We were running late on our way to the airport so we didn’t have time to pick up clothes for Justin . . .”

 

“Say no more, Brian. It was my pleasure. Justin and I had a fine old time with our ‘Beauty Spa Day’, as he calls it,” Simone waived off Brian’s thanks with an elegantly manicured hand of her own. “Frankly, I enjoyed the company. Being the mother of three boys - even if one of them IS gay - didn’t give me much opportunity to engage my more feminine side. So it was nice to have Justin for company for the day.”

 

Brian nodded appreciatively, and before he could manage to talk himself out of it, he leaned across the space between the two bench seats and kissed Simone’s cheek making their hostess blush. “Still, thanks.”

 

“Well then . . .” Simone patted her cheek lightly right where the kiss had landed. “Would anyone care for some Champagne? It’s never too early to start celebrating.”

 

Justin remembered drinking the wonderful Champagne that had tasted like liquid perfume last night, and he was thrilled that he was going to get to try more of it. He didn’t even mind that it made him feel silly or that his head would get fuzzy after a while. Everything was just wonderful here with Brian and he wanted to try it all.

 

“I would love some of that ‘Liquid Perfume’, Simone. It was really good when I had it last night, even though it made me a little goofy. And anyway, I like being goofy because it makes Brian goofy too, and when we are goofy together we dance all night long.” Justin giggled and looked up at Brian adoringly.

 

Simone, sitting just a few feet away, couldn’t hide her amusement listening to her new found friend. She thought that she would really miss this engaging young man when he had to leave. It just wouldn’t be as interesting without him around. Taking another quick moment to revel in her musing, Simone set about pouring Justin a glass of Champagne, smiling yet again at the way his face instantly lit up the moment the first taste passed his lips. It also didn’t escape her notice that Brian hadn’t so much as glanced anywhere else BUT at his adorable blond since they’d gotten in the car - save for when he gave her the brief kiss that he’d placed on her cheek. It was obvious to her that Brian was well and truly smitten with his young Justin, and that Justin felt the same. She wanted them to experience all the happiness that their hands and hearts could hold. These young men had a few less miles on them than she and Adam did, so they would have plenty of time to figure things out.

 

Before they'd finished their champagne, the limo pulled up outside the large church where the wedding would be celebrated. The Dennisons were first out, of course, but they politely waited for the younger couple to join them before they all made their way up the front steps. Then the parents of the groom were swept off to see to their pre-ceremony duties. Brian and Justin were escorted to places on the right side of the aisle by a friendly, and obviously gay, usher. The usher was giving Brian one of those looks - the kind that Brian would have normally jumped at, right before he jumped the usher - but this time, Brian only had eyes for his Sunshine.

 

Justin was still staring at all the wondrous decorations around them in the church, his eyes wide as saucers, when the organ music started to play. The boy actually jumped off the seat a little at the first note - startled by the large, loud sound. Brian huffed a little laugh at the kid - he was consistently amazed by seeing the world through Justin’s untainted eyes - but found the music a bit loud himself now that he thought about it.

 

As the first notes of ‘Oh Promise Me’ began to play, the flower girl (Allistaire’s youngest sister) started her passage down the aisle, tossing out rose petals as she went. The sweet young girl looked almost like a daisy herself in a beautiful pale green dress with a little white camisole top and flowers adorning her hair. There was a hushed chorus of adoring ‘Ohhh’s’ from the grandmothers seated on both sides of the aisle as the girl passed. But when she neared the pew where Brian and Justin were seated, the blond man’s echoing ‘Ohh’ was immediately followed by the boy bolting out of his seat, crouching down on the carpet behind the girl in order to pick up as many of the fallen rose petals as he could and a quiet, “Psst. I think you dropped these.” All before Brian realized what was going on or could stop his interfering OCD date.

 

“That's kinda the whole point,” the saucy little flower girl said, looking at the kneeling blond man with a contemptuous eight-year-old glare.

 

“Sunshine. Just leave it. I'll explain later,” Brian said as he pulled the boy back into the pew next to him.

 

“But she dropped her flowers, Just Brian. Won't she need them later?”

 

“No. She'll be fine, Justin . . . Just relax and watch. Okay?” Brian hissed and wrapped his arm around the boy so he couldn't possibly bolt again.

 

Next, both grooms started their descent down the aisle hand in hand. Allistaire and Marvin were positively stunning in their matching black Vera Wang tuxedos with satin pewter-colored vests and complementary pewter houndstooth patterned ascots worn with pristine white wing tip tuxedo shirts. Each ascot was embellished with a creamy white pearl stick pin that matched the simple, yet lovely white roses on each man’s lapel. They walked sedately, but with light steps, arm in arm all the way down the aisle. When they arrived at the appointed spot before the minister, Allistaire and Marvin turned so they were facing each other and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes.

 

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Allistaire and Marvin . . .” the preacher intoned as soon as the pair was positioned in front of him, which served to quiet down any lingering noise from the assembled crowd.

 

Except, of course, for Justin. "They're so beautiful," Justin's voice rang out clearly through the almost silent church. "They’re like beautiful dolls, they're so pretty.” Tears were running unheeded down his flushed cheeks, and his sniffling was audible for several rows in either direction.

 

“Here, honey,” the elderly woman seated in the pew behind them handed Justin a wad of crumpled Kleenex which she pulled out from the depths of her ample bosom. “I never go to a wedding without being prepared.”

 

The boy nodded at her, accepted the tissues and dabbed at his eyes. Brian just gave an incredulous look as the lady pulled another tissue from her cleavage as if it were some kind of pop-up tissue box. There was even a small corner of the next tissue peaking out between those plentiful globes waiting to be plucked free. Brian shook his head ‘no’ when she politely offered him one, and turned back to his own sniffling date.

 

“Fucking weddings . . . they make even the toughest guy develop a twat and turn a whole church full of fags into a bunch of sniveling lesbians . . .” Brian muttered under his breath even as he snaked an arm around Justin's shoulders and squeezed the young man with the leaking blue eyes tighter to his side.

 

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With the nuptials officially done and over, everyone headed back to the Dennison’s mansion for the reception. The wedding party had taken over the limo, of course, so Brian and Justin were forced to ride back to the huge mansion in Portland’s West Hills with one of the other guests instead. Unfortunately, their designated ride turned out to be one of the other White Party revelers that Brian recognized from the rehearsal dinner the night before.

 

“So how did you enjoy the ceremony, Stud?” the party goer sneered accusingly, looking directly at Brian via the rearview mirror. “I’m surprised you lasted through the whole thing. I figured you'd burst into flames when you first stepped foot into the church.”


“It was short and sweet. Just the way I like anything that has to happen in a church,” Brian replied succinctly without letting on that the man had in any way insulted him. “And speaking of the fires of hell, aren’t you the hypocrite? Based on what I remember from our time together in Chicago, I could say the same about you and your predilection for getting gang banged by any and all comers. And I do mean CUMMERS.”


“Pot meet kettle, big man, because if I remember correctly you weren’t exactly wearing a chastity belt, my friend. In fact, the way I saw it, anything that was still moving, you tried to screw. I heard you were cumming buckets over just about every single ass in sight,” the driver said with a backwards sneer. “I ALSO very vividly remember one particular partner of yours from that evening - even if you don’t. This specific partygoer probably shouldn't have even been there, of course, since his own ‘Partner’ didn't know about that party or that his finance was in attendance. But that’s between the two of them, of course. What I do recall about you, though, Stud, was the way you treated poor Allie like a piece of trash the next morning when you threw him out of your room practically naked at the same time you were showing in your next trick. It would be a real shame if someone were to find out about all of that.”


“Well, Kettle, at least I wasn’t everyone’s cum bucket. And, as for whoever it is you're alluding to that seems to have been someplace they shouldn’t have been, that's hardly my fault, now is it? I didn't force anyone to bend over or drop to their knees for me and ‘Allie’ should have known to get the fuck out before he wore out his welcome. I think you're probably more upset that I didn't fuck YOU, than that I treated your friend like the trick he was. But you know what, go ahead and blab if you think that'll help your friend out in some way. I’m sure that I could entertain the guests equally well with a recounting of your debauchery. And I’m not your friend, asshole.”


At least the mutual exchange of barbs was cut short at this point when the car pulled up to the front entrance of the Dennison’s mansion. Brian barely waited for the car to come to a stop before he was bustling himself and Justin out. There was nothing Brian hated worse than hypocrites. Except maybe hypocrites who were pissed off because he hadn't fucked them and who were now willing to rat someone else out for revenge. I mean, really, Allistaire hadn’t said anything, so why would this guy care that much? Brian figured it was just another case of sour grapes gone really bad. But it did leave him with a very uneasy feeling.


Justin was looking up at Brian with a very confused expression on his face. He wondered why they were talking about pots and kettles, coming buckets (whatever the hell those were - as opposed to buckets you'd already gone past, maybe?) and tricks. Were there going to be magicians at the party doing card tricks or making little balloon animals? He didn’t think so, but it would be a nice surprise if that happened to be the case. But what confused him further, was what Allistaire had to do with the pots, kettles and coming buckets that Brian and their driver were so angrily fixed on. Justin figured it must have been some pretty important cookware for them to be shouting at each other about it like this. Justin may not have understood what was going on between them, but he would be sure to ask Brian about what he’d overheard when they got inside. Something felt very off to Justin and it made him uncomfortable.


The festive atmosphere inside rapidly dispelled Justin’s unease though. There was music and beautiful flowers and food and so many people. It was like a scene out his mother’s favorite television show - Dallas - with all the gorgeous people in their most elegant clothing. Only this time it was real and Justin got to be a part of it. It was enough to take his breath and hold it captive for an eternity.


When Justin froze just inside the doorway to the ballroom where the main festivities were being held, Brian looked at the boy and then quickly pulled him aside. “What’s wrong, Sunshine?”


“I’ve never been to a party before. There’s so many people . . . What am I supposed to do?”


“You’ve never been to a party? Any party? Ever?” Brian was pretty much speechless at this shocking disclosure. “What about a birthday party when you were a kid? Or maybe for the holidays?” Justin was shaking his head at each of Brian’s suggestions, though.


“No, not ever. Not birthdays or holidays, or any day. My mother always told me that parties were the devil’s playground, and I didn’t want to go to Hell because of all those sins you’d be trapped into at a party. My mother said that the kinds of people who went to parties would be committing too many sins to count.” Justin confessed sadly. “Besides, there was never anyone to have a party with. My mother didn’t like for people to come into the house. And I wasn’t allowed to go outside . . . Until the day my mother died and they came to take me to the hospital, I’d never been out of my house.”


“Shit, Justin . . .”


Brian had no idea what to say in response to that disclosure. He couldn’t really fathom the kind of life Justin had lived under such stringent restrictions. To never be allowed to leave his house was bad. But to never have even SEEN a party? To never have had any experiences at all outside what little he could glean about life from the narrow perspective of a television screen? To have been told, repeatedly, that everything that was fun or happy was somehow evil? It was as if Justin had been his mother’s own personal POW, for her to torture whenever it suited her sick, twisted, sadistic fancy.


“Well, once again, your mother was wrong, Justin. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and parties are supposed to be enjoyable,” Brian insisted. “You don’t have to be nervous. Now, repeat after me, ‘my mother didn’t know shit’!”


Justin giggled, wrinkled up his nose adorably and shook his head, unable to say that word even though Brian told him to.


“Come on Justin, say it,” Brian prodded him further. “My mother didn’t know shit. And I’m allowed to have fun and go to parties and kiss my boyfriend whenever I want! You can do it, Justin. Come on. Just say it!”


“My mother . . .” Justin still hesitated, but Brian was looking at him expectantly and nodding his head encouragingly, so the boy took a deep breath and went on. “My mother didn’t know . . . ‘s-h-i-t’,” Justin spelled the word since he still didn’t think he could SAY it. “And I’m allowed to have fun and go to parties and kiss my boyfriend . . . and paint my toenails blue!” *hehehehe*


“That’s my boy!” Brian praised him and then swooped in and kissed him smack dab on his pouty raspberry lips, which kept his newly excited blond quiet for exactly 2.5 seconds.


As soon as their lips parted, however, Justin continued on with his laundry list of things he’d found out he was allowed to do. “Oh, and almost get hand jobs from big fat men in dancing places. And drink perfume and eat fish babies and . . . And . . . What else am I allowed to do this weekend, Brian?”


“And dance!” Brian exclaimed as he heard the band start into a new song.


Brian immediately gathered the eager boy in his strong arms and began waltzing him into the reception. After a few minutes of fancy spins and dips, the music changed to a song with a more upbeat tempo. Maroon 5’s “Moves Like Jagger” came blaring through the speakers and the former waltzing boy instantly became a Soul Train line dancer. Brian just stepped back, slackjawed, and watched his little foundling in awe as the boy bumped and grinded his way through the middle of the dance floor.


“Justin, how on earth did you ever learn to move like that?” Brian asked when the boy took advantage of a transition in the music to freeze in place momentarily.


“Ummm . . . from watching VH1.” Justin blushed so prettily that Brian had to turn his head to keep from outright laughing at Justin’s endearing discomfort. “That’s kinda all my mother would let me watch. That and TVLand and sometimes Nick at Nite. I liked VH1 the best though. I love to dance.”


“Well, why don’t you show me some of those fancy moves. I’m sure I won’t look half as good as you doing it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”


“Sure! I can even teach you how to do the electric slide . . . I’ll go see if the music man will play it.” Justin ran off excitedly in the direction of the D.J. booth, whispered something into the man’s ear and, just as quickly, he was back at Brian’s side pulling him into the middle of the makeshift dance floor, explaining to Brian the basic steps of the Electric slide. “Shuffle three steps to the right, then to the left, three backward steps, two front dips and a hop turn on the left foot. See, it’s easy!” Justin beamed as he just started gliding and sliding in circles all around a baffled Brian.


And, while Brian muddled through a couple of halting steps, egged on by the dancing queen, the music started up and Justin took off. Brian did his best to follow along - which was saying a lot for someone who previous to meeting Justin wouldn’t have been caught dead line dancing. Luckily for everyone at the reception, there were a few other folks there who actually knew the dance. They immediately joined Justin and by their example encouraged others to come up and try as well. Before long, there were about forty people up on the dance floor boogie-ing their little hearts out in unison and the grooms hadn’t even arrived yet!

 


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“It’s Electric!…..Boogie woogie woogie…. He’s sure got the boogie!” The music kept playing, and everyone kept turning and dipping, following along behind the bopping blond boy, and having such a damn good time that when the grooms did finally arrive, no one even noticed.

 

Finally, after the third repetition of the song, the D.J. let the music fade out and the dancers all cheered, with the celebration ending in a standing ovation for Justin and Brian since they had started the whole thing. Justin was flushed from the exercise and looked more angelic than ever. Brian took a step back and joined in the applause for his talented date, eventually encouraging Justin to take a bow before the kid could scamper off the dance floor.


And Justin had even managed to get through the whole dance with his shoes ON!

 

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End Notes:

11/9/15 - Lot's of disclosures about Justin's past. Hope this answers some of the readers' questions . . . although there's still more to come. And, we're off to write more. TTFN! J.S.T.

Chapter 8 - Spectre by samcdee
Author's Notes:

The Wedding Reception . . . You'd think Brian and Justin would have a good time, right? Wrong . . . Read on and you'll see. J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 8 - Spectre.

 

Brian and Justin were sitting at one of the large round tables that had been set up in the back of the ballroom. Brian was sipping at a scotch while Justin was digging into the plate he’d filled with every single food item offered on the elegant buffet table nearby. Brian was enjoying just watching the kid eat. He was always so enthusiastic about food and was willing to try pretty much anything. And the faces he sometimes made when he tasted something - both the look of rapturous joy when he found something yummy and the look of revulsion when he absolutely hated whatever it was, were equally amusing.

 

“Well, it looks like you found the food already, Justin,” Simone Dennison teased the boy as she came up from behind their chairs. “I do love to see a boy with a healthy appetite. Unlike some others I’ve seen tonight,” the motherly woman gave Brian a stern look indicating that she’d noticed he seemed to be drinking his dinner calories.

 

“Don’t worry, Simone. Justin’s eating enough for both of us tonight. In fact, if I don’t hold him back a little, you might not have enough for the rest of the guests by the time he’s done,” Brian chuckled at the same time he reached out to steal a carrot stick off the younger man’s plate, earning him a reprimanding look from Justin for daring to touch his food.

 

“Then I guess we should let him keep at it as there is plenty to go around,” Simone patted Justin’s shoulders approvingly. “But, while our young friend is so engaged, perhaps I can borrow you, Brian? You see, one of the benefits of being the mother of one of the grooms at a gay wedding is that you can commandeer all the beautiful young men to dance with you and they really don’t dare to tell you no! So, what do you say, handsome?”

 

“I would be honored, Simone,” Brian agreed readily and stood up. “I’ll be right back, Sunshine. And remember, you don’t have to eat EVERYTHING you see.” Brian kissed the top of the golden mop of hair before offering his hand to Simone and then escorting the lady out onto the dance floor.

 

Justin would have said something as the pair moved away, except his mouth was too full. Instead he just devoted even more of his attention to the plate in front of him. He thought that next he would try the two bacon wrapped concoctions. One of them had some weird looking soft brown pear shaped thing inside and the other was white round and flat looking on two sides. They looked kind of interesting and definitely something that he’d never had before - except for the bacon that is. Generally speaking, anything wrapped in bacon had to be good, right?

 

“Mind if we join you?” Justin looked up as a voice intruded upon his gustatory efforts. There was a group of about five men all approaching the table with their own plates. Justin, his mouth still full, merely nodded to let them know they were welcome to join him at the empty table. The man who’d spoken - Justin thought it was the other passenger from the car whose driver was so worried about that crazy cookware Brian had been discussing - took the seat right next to Justin’s. The rest of the group of men quickly assumed seats as well before everyone started in on their own food.

 

“So, do you like those stuffed figs and scallops?” the man sitting two places down asked, pointing at the bacon wrapped things that Justin had been tasting. “Marv’s mother loves them, so they turn up at every party she throws, but not many people are willing to try them.”

 

“These brown things are a bit squishy and there are these crunchy little bits in them, but it’s sweet and bacony tasting so I like that. The white things are kind of fishy tasting and a little gritty, like sand or something. But, overall, they’re not bad,” Justin gave his food review with a thoughtful smile.

 

“Hey, Marv! Allie! Join us,” the passenger man next to Justin waved over the two grooms who had just happened by with their own servings of food.

 

In short order, the grooms, along with the pots & kettles man who’d driven them earlier, had also pulled up chairs and joined the table full of hungry men. Everyone except for Justin seemed to know each other and they were all chatting and joking away. Justin felt a little out of his element. He looked around to see if Brian was anywhere nearby, but his boyfriend was still off dancing with Simone. Oh well, Justin would simply have to try and figure out these new people on his own.

 

“Hey, Marv. Isn’t that the same suit you wore to the Truman Gala a couple years ago?” one of the men sitting on Justin’s right asked as he pointed to Justin’s apparel. “I think you even had a tie about that color. I remember it because it matched your date’s eyes.” The speaker elbowed the groom in a joking fashion while giving Allistaire an amiable wink.

 

“I think you’re right, Chester.” Marv replied, giving Justin’s outfit another look. “You’re Justin, right?” he asked, addressing the blond directly. “You came with Brian Kinney. We haven’t been formally introduced yet, I’m Marvin.” The groom reached around and offered Justin his hand. “Now, tell us . . . that IS one of my old suits, isn’t it? I bet you my mother had something to do with that. She just loves to play dress up whenever she can corral a willing - or not so willing - victim. She’d still be dressing ME on a daily basis if I hadn’t moved out! Hah!”

 

“If you mean Simone, then yes. She did lend me this suit. She wasn’t very impressed with the suit that I’d brought and she told me you wouldn’t mind. Thank you for letting me borrow it.” Justin admitted, a little shyly.

 

“No problem. You can keep it if you want. I don’t think I even fit into it anymore, unfortunately.” Marv graciously offered. “Besides you probably look better in it than I ever did. Even that tie is the perfect color with those eyes of yours.”

 

“Thank you! That’s just what Simone said. And that’s also why I picked a matching color for my toes!” Justin immediately reached down and started to tug off the shoes and socks he was wearing so that he could finally show someone his beautiful, sparkly, blue toes. “See! I’m color coordinated all the way down to my toes!” Justin propped his left foot up on the edge of the table next to his plate of food so that everyone around could see the toes in question.

 

Justin’s actions raised a hooting round of laughter as the guys all pointed and laughed at the youth’s unfettered antics. At first Justin was happy that they all seemed to like his toenails. But then the laughter went on just a bit too long and the guys were all pointing at him and whispering between themselves as they laughed. He quickly realized that it wasn’t a genial, happy kind of laughter. There was an edge of cruelty to it. He thought about what Just Brian had told him that first night they met and he listened to his gut. His gut told him that these fellows were not just being friendly and laughing with him, they were laughing AT him. He promptly pulled his foot off the table and slouched down in his chair, tucking his once again bare feet underneath him and trying to make himself disappear.

 

“That was very cute, little one. You’re a hoot, but I wonder what Brian sees in you,” the passenger guy said, although his tone didn’t match his words and it made Justin feel like he was being insulted even though he couldn’t tell precisely how. “I wouldn’t think Kinney would go for the dumb blond type.”

 

“You’re implying there’s any type of guy Kinney wouldn’t fuck? I don’t think he gives a damn who, or what, he’s fucking. He probably didn’t even notice that Blondie here had a brain - albeit a simple one - all he sees is the cute face, hot ass, and nice package. You don’t think he actually talks to any of his fucks do you?” Injected the red-headed usher from his place across the table.

 

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Marvin remarked, looking at his friends and wondering where all the hostility was coming from - and noting at the same time that Allistaire was the only one not saying anything, just sitting quietly and looking a bit green. “We just met the guy last night. I can’t believe you’ve all taken such a dislike to him this fast.”

 

“You don’t know Kinney, Marv. He’s got a reputation - even here in Portland.” The usher said, backing up his statements. “From what I hear, he’s notorious all up and down the east coast as the biggest slut in the gay community. They claim he’ll say anything, do anything, fuck anything . . .”

 

Justin had been listening to this discussion and all the while growing more and more uncomfortable. He didn’t like the way all these men were talking about his Brian. He didn’t like that they seemed to talk about HIM as if he wasn’t even there. And he didn’t like the hatred that was emanating from most of the men at the table. Finally, feeling overwhelmed and not wanting to sit there and listen to any more, Justin obeyed his instincts and made a quick decision to leave. He pushed back his seat and started to stand. Before he could get away, though, Pot & Kettle Guy reacted by getting to his feet as well and grabbing Justin’s arm.

 

“Don’t listen to the guys, Justin. They don’t mean anything by it. It’s just the usual gossip, you know,” Pot & Kettle Guy said in a voice that was probably meant to be reassuring but which came off sounding demeaning to Justin’s ears. “Let’s go dance and I bet, by the time we get back, they’ll have moved on to cutting down some other schmuck.”

 

Justin had thought to protest, but before he knew it, Pots had him out on the dance floor with his arms around Justin’s waist. Justin had always been taught to be polite, which meant he couldn’t just walk away from this man even though he really didn’t feel like dancing with the Pots Man. He didn’t want to cause trouble for Brian by being insulting to another guest at Adam and Simone’s son’s wedding. He didn’t want to do anything that might ruin Brian’s big plan. And his mother had also told him you could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, so he resolved himself to be nice, dance just one song with Pots and then try to get away quickly and smoothly.

 

They’d been dancing together quietly for some time - Justin mostly too busy trying to keep his barefeet out from under the other man’s bulky shoes to notice anything else - before Pots again started speaking. “So tell me, little one, how well do you know your ‘boyfriend’ exactly?” Chester, aka Mr. Pots & Kettle, hissed in Justin’s ear as he slowly led the blond youth around the dance floor. “I’m curious to know how you met. I mean, Brian Kinney is the last fag on earth I’d expect to show up at an event like this with a boyfriend in tow. I thought relationships gave him the hives or something. So tell me, how’d you meet? Did he pick you up in a bar? Maybe he took you home to his lair after fucking your brains out in some sleazy club’s backroom?”

 

Justin tried to pull away at this point, but Chester had a tight grip around the young man’s hips and just wouldn’t let him go. Both the man’s words as well as his tone were turning ugly and Justin didn’t want to listen to any more. His gut was screaming at him to get away from this man. The frightened youth looked around him but didn’t see any familiar faces. Justin had no idea where Brian had gone to but he didn’t see either his boyfriend or Simone out on the dance floor anymore. He really wanted to get away from Pots but he simply didn’t know how.

 

“Hey, don’t be in such a rush, Blondie. I’m just trying to figure out what it is that Kinney sees in you,” Chester cajoled, squeezing Justin even tighter against himself and reaching around with one hand to grab onto Justin’s rear. “I mean, yeah, you’re hot and all, but there’s got to be more or he wouldn’t be wasting his time on you. You must be one phenomenal fuck to have even got him going back for seconds - that’s pretty much unheard of for Kinney, you know. But even that wouldn’t be enough to hold Kinney’s attention for more than a nanosecond.” The hand on his backside was now kneading at Justin’s butt and the boy could feel the other man’s willy rubbing up against his stomach. “I’ve got half a mind to take you upstairs, strip you out of that monkey suit and then fuck you myself, just to find out what it is that has Kinney so enthralled with you. But then again, I’m not really into sloppy seconds - especially not Kinney’s seconds.”

 

 

“I . . . I don’t want to dance with you anymore . . .” Justin gasped, trying ineffectively to push against the rather burly man’s chest.

 

“Sure you do, Blondie. You’re gonna dance with me and tell me everything I need to know. Kinney sticks his dick in lots of guy’s asses, and I’m sure your’s is tighter than most, but I really just HAVE to know what is so special about you. What is it that is so fucking special about YOU that Kinney didn’t just throw you away like he did Allistaire or any of the thousands of other guys he’s fucked this year alone. So, Blondie, either you tell me now, or we go upstairs together and I’ll find out for myself.” Chester followed up that threat with a lick and a nip to Justin’s earlobe. “Would you like that, Blondie? You would, wouldn’t you? You’d probably love it if I shoved my hot, hard cock up your ass and gave you a good sound fucking.”

 

“L-L-Let me go . . . I . . . Sh-shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Justin stammered, his voice panicky but barely audible over the loud music, right before he went limp in his dance partner’s arms, becoming dead weight. Chester, who hadn’t been expecting that response, let go of the boy and Justin slid to his knees, rocking back and forth and mumbling to be let go, all the while covering his ears with his hands.  

 

Brian, who had been standing on the far side of the room talking with Simone and Adam, slowly became aware of a growing commotion coming from the other side of the reception hall. It seemed that most of the dancers were now just standing around a knot of people on the far edge of the dance floor. Brian could hear a growing wave of concerned whispers and then several of the onlookers began to look in the Dennisons’ direction. Adam, being one of the hosts, quickly excused himself in order to go sort out whatever was causing the uproar, and both Brian and Simone trailed along curiously in his wake. As soon as Adam had elbowed his way through the gaping crowd, allowing Brian to see through the throng, he discovered the cause of the disruption.

 

There was his little blond ray of Sunshine, huddled in a tiny ball of misery and panic on the edge of the dance area, moaning and rocking back and forth while that Asswipe from the White Party was looming over the kid. Justin’s hands were up in a defensive stance, trying to shield his head, and batting away any hands that reached out to touch him. Brian could see from the way that the boy’s shoulders were heaving that he was probably hyperventilating. And the way the people were pressing in around him certainly wasn’t helping matters any.

 

“Get away from him! Fucking stand back and let him breathe, damn it! Can’t you morons see he’s having a panic attack! Get the fuck back already!” Brian snarled as he pushed his way through the crowd. Crouching down beside the rocking figure, Brian gently placed his hands on the boy’s arms in order to sooth him, “It’s me, Justin. It’s Brian. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re okay. Just calm down. Shhhhh. Come on, Justin. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay . . .”

 

It took several long minutes before Brian felt Justin’s trembling start to subside even a little bit. It didn’t help at all that numerous good samaritan types kept trying to help - their looming presence only serving to make Justin cringe a little more. But gradually Justin became calm enough that Brian’s worry turned to anger. He didn’t know what the hell happened to Justin to turn the usually happy and carefree boy into this quivering mess, but he was damn well going to find out.

 

“Does ANYONE want to tell me what the fuck happened here?” Brian demanded. When it seemed that no salient information would be forthcoming, Brian became even more irate. “Somebody better tell me what the fuck happened to my boyfriend in the next sixty seconds or I’m going to start channeling my abusive, drunken, Irish father and give you all something to really regret.”

 

“I don’t know what set the kid off, Kinney. All I know is that one minute Chester was dancing with him, looking pretty chummy, and then the next, your boy just collapsed.” Marvin stepped forward and offered that little tidbit of information, pointing out the guy that Brian recognized as their asshole driver from earlier. Now things were making a bit of sense.

 

“Ahh…. Now I think I understand what this is all about,” Brian nodded and moved so that he was standing chest to chest with Chester. “What the fuck did you say to him, Mr. Sour Grapes? Huh? You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? You’re just so damn jealous that I fucked your friend Allie instead of you at that White Party in Chicago that you had to go and take it out on a completely innocent kid like Justin. I always said there’s nothing like jealousy to turn a disgruntled fag into a vengeful queen.” Chester had been backing away from Brian this whole time, but eventually came up against the edge of a table and subsequently had nowhere else to retreat. “Well, fuck you! If you want to know the truth, the reason I DIDN’T fuck you is because you’re a TROLL and I DON’T do pity fucks!”

 

“Allistaire?” Marvin had unfortunately picked up on his brand-new husband’s name from the midst of Brian’s diatribe and was now gaping at his just wed groom. “Is this true? Did you let Kinney fuck you at a….. a White Party? When? And why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Oh, fuck it all!” Brian yelled, realizing too late exactly what he’d let slip in his anger at Chester. “Grow some balls, Allie-kins. If you’re going to fuck around on your fiance less than three months before your wedding, at least have the decency to tell HIM about it since all your friends apparently already knew. You really should know better than to trust a bunch of fags with a secret of that magnitude. What are you, mentally deficient? Of course he’s going to fucking find out, you idiot!”

 

“Fuck you, Kinney!” Marvin, who seemingly had forgotten his husband’s infidelity in favor of taking out his angst on Kinney, was now nose to nose with Brian and his posse of groomsmen and friends were standing right behind him.

 

“Stop it! All of you just stop!” an imperious voice interrupted the melee before Brian and Marvin could come to actual blows. Brian immediately turned to find the owner of that voice, Simone, kneeling on the floor next to Justin. “Marvin, you need to calm down. This isn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation,” Simone ordered in that voice that all mothers seem to have and which all children instinctively know means business. Next, though, she turned that voice on the other party to the incipient brawl. “Brian. I think it would be best if you take Justin, get yourselves calmed down, then get your things and leave. I’m sure there’s more going on here than meets the eye, but this is hardly the time to hash it out and right now, more than anything, Justin needs you to get him away from this crowd.”

 

Brian looked at Simone’s serious face and then over at the still shaking blond boy crouching next to her. She was right - Justin was just barely holding it together and looked like he was about to relapse into full out panic at any moment. This truly wasn’t the time to take on either Allie and his betrothed or Chester the Molester. He needed to get Justin out of here and somewhere the boy felt safe so that he could finally recover. With that in mind, Brian carefully bent down, collected his recovering boyfriend from Simone and gently lifted Justin up to his feet. “Thank you for your hospitality, Simone. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

 

With the still trembling young man securely in his arms, Brian walked them both out of the reception and headed up the stairs while the eyes of all present followed their every step. Justin was still unsteady on his feet, but with Brian’s arm around him, the boy managed to stumble along. Brian took his time, not rushing Justin, and not giving a damn how long it took to get them to their room. Especially since all they were going to do was pack up and leave.

 

This trip certainly didn’t turn out the way Brian had hoped thanks to that asshole Chester.

Barefoot.jpg  Barefoot.jpg  Barefoot.jpg  Barefoot.jpg

End Notes:

11/11/15 - Mean old bully boys and Chester the Molester! But, never fear, Brian and Justin's adventure is really only just beginning . . . J.S.T. 

Chapter 9 - Take It Eeeeeeeasy by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian and Justin find an unexpected way to get out of Portland . . . Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

 

Chapter 9 - Take It Eeeeeeeasy.

 

The taxi pulled up outside the Portland International Airport in front of the ‘Departures’ area. Brian helped Justin out, grabbed their bags and then pulled out his wallet. The $35 fare from the Dennison’s house took almost all of the cash Brian still had on hand. He silently fumed over the waste of money and time that this entire fiasco of a weekend now represented. But there was nothing he could do about it now. So Brian just paid the cab driver and then guided Justin into the terminal building.

 

They joined the queue at the Liberty Air counter and waited their turn in line silently. Justin was still not entirely back to his normal bubbly self. Brian had spent more than a half hour while they were still back at the Dennison’s trying to calm the boy. Not only was Justin upset about the encounter with Chester the Molester, but he was also feeling guilty that his little meltdown had ruined things for Brian. Brian had tried to explain that Justin wasn’t to blame for either Chester’s behavior or the fact that his own promiscuousness had finally caught up to him and bitten him in the ass, but the boy was convinced it was all his fault somehow. Which made for a very subdued and brooding blond boy. Brian didn’t want to stay where he wasn’t wanted any longer than necessary, though, so as soon as Justin seemed capable of walking on his own, Brian packed them up, called a taxi, and got them the hell out of there.

 

Their biggest problem was that Brian had no idea what they were going to do now. He’d been pretty much counting on winning the Accelerate account in order to get his finances flush enough for him to carry on. Without the money from that account, he didn’t really know what the fuck to do. While they were standing in the line waiting at the airport, Brian did a quick mental accounting of his situation and it wasn’t pretty. He had a little over twenty dollars in his wallet and maybe another hundred or so in his bank account. He had one credit card left that still hadn’t been maxed out but didn’t know how much credit he had left on there. It couldn’t be much since he’d been living off his credit cards for a while now. He was now stranded in the airport in Portland, Oregon - in the company of an escaped mental patient, no less - they had no place to sleep, very little money and he wasn’t even sure he could get them back to Pittsburgh.

 

Not exactly the way Brian wanted to spend a Saturday night.

 

Thankfully the line at the Liberty Air counter was fairly short. When it was their turn, Brian led Justin to the ticketing agent’s station and asked about the availability of flights to Pittsburgh. The first flight out wasn’t until the morning, of course, but at least it did have two seats available. Brian wouldn’t be happy about spending the night in the airport, but he didn’t have much choice. The real bitch of it all was that the price of the tickets, one-way and purchased at this late a date, was pretty astronomical: $475 each. Brian winced when he heard that price quoted but handed over his credit card and gave up a silent prayer to the banking gods that it would work.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir, but your card has been declined,” the ticketing agent dashed his hopes a minute later and handed back his card. “Is there perhaps another card we can try for you?”

 

“Shit . . . Um, no. Thank you . . .” Brian shook his head, sighed and let his shoulders slump in defeat - he knew it was hopeless and he didn’t have any other credit cards left.

 

Brian quickly bundled Justin off to the side of the ticketing area and then deposited both the boy and his bags into chairs in the waiting area. Justin was eyeing Brian with a worried frown on his beautiful face and wringing his hands worriedly but not saying anything. Brian squeezed his eyes shut tightly and pinched the bridge of his nose. His mind was reeling but he wasn't coming up with any good ideas about what he should do next. And he just couldn't stand seeing that nervous yet reliant look the boy kept darting in his direction.

 

“Fuck!” Brian wanted to scream but only allowed himself that one, brief curse and a silent moment of despair.

 

“Brian . . . ?” Justin's uncertain voice finally broke through his moment of self-pity and set him off, pacing around the waiting area chairs while he tried to come up with some plan.

 

Brian figured that altogether he probably had about $500, give or take - roughly the same amount as a single airline ticket. But, even if he could somehow scrape together that much, he knew he couldn't just abandon Justin here, alone in the airport. So what were his other alternatives? How the hell was he going to get the both of them all the way back across the fucking country? What he'd do with Justin once they DID get back to Pittsburgh was even more problematic, but he couldn't even think that far ahead. First he had to get them out of Portland at least.

 

“Excuse me,” a raspy voice interrupted Brian’s pacing. He turned to look for the owner and found a portly, rugged-looking, dark-haired man wearing a flannel checkered shirt, overalls and dirt encrusted boots, standing next to the chair where Justin was sitting. “I couldn’t help but overhear a bit of your dilemma, brother, and I just might have a solution for you. Let me introduce myself. The name’s Daniel.”

 

Brian looked the guy over and instantly pegged him as trouble. He had the slick, shifty eyed-look of a petty criminal. Normally, Brian wouldn’t come near a guy like this. But . . . well, at this point, what would it hurt. They didn’t have much left to lose. Brian reluctantly reached over and accepted the man’s proffered hand.

 

“Perhaps I could buy you two gentlemen a cup of coffee while we talk?” Daniel offered, gesturing down the hallway that led from the ticketing booths to the concourses where there was a convenient Starbucks just a few yards away.

 

“Sure. Why not. Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go hear what this nice man has to say,” Brian grabbed the bags in one hand and helped Justin to his feet with the other.

 

Ten minutes later they were all seated around the small molded plastic tables that were set up around the Starbucks kiosk. Justin was slurping noisily at a hot chocolate, Brian was blowing on his mocha latte and Daniel was sipping at his own black Americano. And the longer the genial small talk went on the more uncomfortable Brian was feeling.

 

“So, like I said, I overheard back there that you didn’t have enough for airfare to wherever you’re heading and I figured I might be able to help you guys out,” Daniel finally spoke up. “I’m heading out of town myself - relocating because of work - and my plane leaves in just a few hours. In the meantime, I’ve managed to sell off all the crap I’m not shipping except for one item: this old RV I picked up a while back. I actually drove it here to the airport tonight because I already sold my car. My buddy was supposed to pick it up tomorrow and follow up on selling it for me, but once I heard about your problems I thought maybe we could help each other out and then my buddy would be off the hook too. So, what do you say . . . You guys need transportation and I've got an RV I need to sell.”

 

Brian stared at the guy, trying hard to see into his brain. He knew this was too good to be true. It was going to be trouble. But, of course he was already in trouble anyway, right?

 

As far as he could see, his options at this point were limited. He couldn't afford the airfare to get both him and Justin home and he'd already decided he wouldn't abandon the kid here. He might be able to borrow the money for the airfare from his friends or Cynthia, but that option really rankled - Brian hated owing money to anyone. Renting a car to drive the almost three thousand miles probably wasn't going to be much cheaper than flying. Plus, if they drove, it would take at least five or six days, so they'd have to either pay for hotels along the way or sleep in the car, which didn't sound all that pleasant and could really add up. Two bus tickets would be substantially cheaper but that long a trip would no doubt take upwards of a week and Brian just could NOT imagine being stuck on a bus for THAT long. Same thing with a train.

 

The more he thought about it, the better the idea of an RV sounded - which just went to show how truly desperate Brian was since, under any other circumstances, he wouldn't be caught dead in one of those monstrosities. However, if they were going to drive anyway, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have a built in bed in the back of their vehicle. It would save on hotels at least. It would be less confining than a car - more leg room. And, based on the sleaze factor of the creep sipping coffee across the table from him, Brian figured he could buy the damn thing for pretty fucking cheap.

 

“What's the catch?” Brian asked bluntly.

 

“Well, you see, I don't have the title with me . . .” Daniel explained with a nonchalant look and a shrug. “It must have accidentally gotten packed and shipped with all my other stuff. But, it'll be weeks before I get everything unpacked, find it and can send it back here to my buddy so he can sell the beast. And I'm not going to lie to you, I could use the money now. But that works in your favor, since it means I'll have to sell it to you for practically nothing.”

 

“And how long would we have before the cops pull us over and arrest us for grand theft auto?” Brian asked, not at all fooled by the man's flimsy explanation.

 

“I swear to you. It's not like that at all. I really just don't know where the hell I put the title.”

 

“Mmhmm.” Brian rubbed his face. “So how much is this bargain deal gonna cost me? You heard the lady at the ticket counter say my credit card was declined. How exactly do you think I can afford to pay you for this RV?”

 

“I'm willing to let it go for a measly $500 - in cash.” Daniel offered, looking at Brian greedily.

 

“Fuck that. I could rent a car that wasn't stolen for $500,” Brian replied with a sneer. “Come on, Sunshine. This was a waste of time.”

 

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Daniel grabbed hold of Brian's jacket and towed him back down to his seat. “I'm willing to negotiate. Tell me what you've got on you.”

 

Brian did a quick mental calculation, figuring in gas prices and the cost of food for a few days . . . “Two hundred bucks.”

 

“Fuck! That's ridiculous. No fucking way, man. You're not getting out of Portland if that's all you got. Come on. Work with me here . . . How about four hundred?”

 

“Two-fifty,” Brian countered.

 

“Three.”

 

“Two-fifty,” Brian replied. “That's all I can afford. Take it or leave it. Oh, and you don't get the money till I see this mythical RV AND you prove to me it can drive us at least around the airport loop for fifteen minutes without breaking down.”

 

“You're killing me, man,” Daniel complained but then paused and stared at Brian for several long minutes. When Brian simply stared back and didn't look down or away, the guy must have known there wasn't any chance Brian would cave. “Shit! Fine. But I'm only doing this because I'm short on time and cash. You don't know what a great bargain you're getting.”

 

Daniel was muttering to himself about fucking stingy city slickers even as he was showing Brian and Justin out to the parking structure where their brand new home on wheels was waiting.

 

“Here she is boys . . . your ticket to freedom”

 

 

“Oh . . . Brian! Look at this! The glasses all stick to the side of the cupboards!” Justin was raving over the glasses. He’d just finished raving over the miniature refrigerator and the tiny oven and stove top. Before that he’d been raving over the miniature everything in the bathroom. Brian had been more interested in the built-in wine cooler and the mini-keg hooked up to the tap attached to the countertop. The first thing he’d done upon entering the RV was pour himself a glass of beer while Daniel showed him how to get the behemoth started up in order to drive.

 

BB - RV.JPG

 

Then Brian had made Daniel drive them around the airport loop road for about fifteen minutes just to make sure that the damn RV actually ran. When it had passed that test with flying colors, Brian and Daniel sat down at the built-in dining table and Daniel made out a handwritten Bill of Sale for the vehicle. Brian knew that the document wasn’t worth the price of the paper it was written on, but at least he’d have that in hand if the cops later pulled him over and accused HIM of stealing the RV. Not that it would hold up in court, but Brian would at least try to play dumb and thought he could avoid jail time if the worst case scenario came to pass. Brian also managed to get Daniel to show his license for proof of identification. Daniel was pretty fast about showing it but Brian was able to memorize the license number and state of issue. That was all Brian could think of to try and protect himself. He hoped it was enough. As soon as Daniel had the $250 that Brian had managed to get off his credit card at the ATM inside the airport, he’d bolted.

 

Since then, Brian and Justin had been combing through the contents of the RV. The damn thing was really fucking magnificent. To start with, it was thirty-five feet long. It had a living room, kitchen, dining area, a toilet and a full bath/shower, and a really nice sized bedroom with a big king-sized bed. Everything was pretty compact but it was still really elegant, amazingly well engineered and surprisingly roomy. There were even these little extension things on the sides that you could slide out when the vehicle was stopped that added another six feet of space on each side. There was a built in big-screen television and even a built in computer station. The damn thing even had a fucking electric fireplace in it! Brian’s first couple of apartments hadn’t been nearly as nice as this fucking RV and had probably been smaller.  

 

 

BB - RV Cockpit.png  BB - RV interior.jpg

 

 They’d also soon discovered that the thing was totally equipped with everything they’d need and a lot of stuff they couldn’t possibly imagine ever using. Both the refrigerator and the freezer were fully stocked as well as the pantry. The rest of the cupboards and closets were full as well. There were even clothes in the bedroom closet - just another indicator that the thing was stolen, as far as Brian was concerned, since Daniel hadn’t been at all worried about clearing out any of ‘his’ stuff before he practically ran away from the parking area with Brian’s money. Justin was apparently having the time of his life going through every drawer, cupboard and closet and discovering all the amazingly small things that the RV held. And Brian was enjoying watching the boy’s discoveries while at the same time putting off his first attempt to try to drive the beast.

 

The prospect of actually driving something as big as a fucking house was daunting. Daniel had briefly shown Brian the basics but he was still feeling rather intimidated. The instrument panel on the dashboard looked more like an airplane’s dash than what he was used to in a regular car. And the operating manual - contained in a fat three-ringed binder secured in a little nook next to the driver’s seat - looked formidable. There was no way he’d get through all that in less than a week. But, after they’d been sitting there in the parking lot for more than a half hour, Brian’s uneasiness about hanging around and his fear of being in a most-likely-stolen RV, got the better of him and he decided it was time to head out.

 

So, taking the bull by the horns - or in this case the RV by the steering wheel - Brian finally turned the key in the ignition, listened to the huge diesel 360 horsepower engine roar to life and then pulled out of the parking space.

 

Driving a vehicle that was thirty-five feet long, over eight feet wide and that weighed more than 24,000 pounds was definitely an experience that Brian had never expected to have in this lifetime. Even just keeping the damn thing centered within the lines of the lane of traffic was a huge endeavor - he found he was constantly oversteering and even occasionally veering into the other lane. He also kept getting distracted by the small in-dash monitor displaying video feed from the rear facing camera that showed what was going on behind the RV. Every time a car came zooming up and started to pass them, Brian would see the motion through the camera, get startled and have to stop himself from veering off to the right. He didn’t dare change lanes - he was too scared - so he ended up just inching along with the slowest traffic in the right hand lane whenever the traffic was heavy.

 

Thankfully, it was a Saturday night, so as soon as Brian got away from the traffic around the airport the going got a lot easier. Meanwhile, Justin had taken over the operating manual and used it to figure out the onboard GPS system. Once that was set, the bitch-in-the-box took over the navigation and simply told Brian when to turn. That helped relieve Brian’s nerves to a large extent. He didn’t have to figure out where to go, just how to drive.

 

Eventually, Brian figured out that the little sticky dots that had been applied to the windshield were a good guide to tell him when he was properly aligned in the traffic lane. As long as he kept those dots lined up with the lines painted on the highway, he was good to go. After that, he felt he could relax a little - at least as long as he was only going forward. He didn’t even want to contemplate trying to turn the damn thing or *gasp* back up!

 

Luckily, they made it out of Portland proper in good time and hadn’t caused any major traffic accidents in the process. Justin and the GPS had managed to guide them onto Interstate 84 headed east. All Brian had to do was drive straight forward from that point on. And, since Brian was still nervous about getting out of town as quickly as possible, he decided that they’d just drive through the night without stopping. The more distance they put between Portland and themselves the better, as far as Brian was concerned.

 

The RV’s gas tank was pretty close to full when they’d started. Justin, who seemed to be speed reading through the operating manual as Brian drove, informed him that they had an 80 Gallon gas tank and that the vehicle should get 10-12 MPG. Which meant that this whale could go a fucking long way between fill ups. Brian hoped he could hold out as long as the fuel supply did.

 

Despite the excitement of this new adventure, however, his co-pilot didn’t make it very long. It had already been a very long day with a lot of other activities and memorable moments, and it had been after ten pm when they’d revved up the engines and started out of Portland, so it was really no wonder. They’d been driving for less than two hours when Brian looked over and noticed that Justin had finally conked out on him - falling asleep in the passenger’s side captain’s chair with the operating manual binder still open on his lap. Brian continued on down the darkened highway, pacing himself against the long-haul truckers and the other late night denizens of the interstate. When he started to get a little sleepy, he rifled through the rack of well-used CD’s attached to the back of the driver’s side sun visor and found an old favorite. Before long he was singing along to the Eagles’s Greatest Hits Album, hoping to ‘Take It Easy’, as he drove his new RV down the highway.

 

Brian just hoped that nobody who knew him would ever find out about this little road trip of his.

 

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End Notes:

11/12/15 - So, can't you just see Brian in an RV . . . The humorous possibilities are endless. More fun adventures coming up soon. J.S.T.

Chapter 10 - Where Did You Sleep Last Night by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian and Justin's first night on the road . . . Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 10 - Where Did You Sleep Last Night

 

The Eagles kept Brian company for a good while as he sailed on down the highway. However, about six hours into the trip Brian finally gave in to his exhaustion and pulled into the nearest rest stop. Brian wasn't surprised to find that the lot was more or less empty at this ungodly hour of the morning. As soon as the monstrous machine was safely parked, Brian killed the engine and stood to stretch his stiff limbs. The clock in the dashboard read four thirty am. All the while Justin stayed happily sleeping, curled up in the captain’s chair, although the operating manual had made a new home on the floor.

 

“Hey . . . Sunshine, get up and come to bed.” Brian woke Justin with a quick brush of his lips to the youth’s temple and a gentle shake.

 

“Mmmm...what? Where are we, Brian?”

 

“Somewhere between Bumfuck City and Hicksville, USA. But don’t worry about that right now, come to bed before your body turns into a gigantic knot.”

 

Justin let himself be led into the deceptively spacious bedroom and climbed onto the more comfortable bed. Brian toed off his shoes and divested himself of his shirt before sliding in behind Justin and spooning his body around his warm blond. Both of them were sound asleep in seconds.

 

The sound of a car horn honking woke Brian up some time later. The sun was now shining through the RV windows, so he must have been sleeping for at least a couple hours. He found he was still lying in the same position as he'd been in when he'd fallen asleep - curled around Justin's smaller body with the kid’s bubble butt nestled up tightly against his crotch. His nose was buried in a mop of golden floss that tickled but also smelled so wonderfully earthy, like sandalwood and a hint of vanilla. The boy put off some serious body heat, making their nest under the comforter toasty warm. The whole arrangement felt really good to Brian. He was amazingly comfortable and didn’t even mind when the stray thought that this might be considered ‘cuddling’ drifted through his mind.

 

Laying like this with Justin, though, was making it nearly impossible for Brian to tamp down his lust for the boy. Brian’s arm was wrapped around the lithe body, his fingers splayed dangerously close to the younger man’s respectably-sized morning woody. It didn’t take long at all for Brian to find himself growing as hard as a steel rod. Really, all it would have taken was about half an inch of movement and they would both be in deep shit trouble. He knew that, because of all the bullshit rhetoric his mother had filled his head with, Justin wasn't even close to being ready for anything more physical than the kisses they’d already shared, but maybe there was a way he could ease his blond boy into the sensual realm.

 

The more Brian inhaled Justin’s unique scent, the harder he became. He had to hold himself back or he would have been rutting against that firm, plush ass like a fucking teenager. And the warmth of the body pressing back against his own wasn’t helping to keep him calm or rational. Matters were getting serious here. Brian knew he had to get some relief soon, or he was going to explode in his pants. There was only one thing he could do: he was going to have to wake the boy up and then give him a formal orientation into what a hand job really entailed.

 

Brian wormed his hand up underneath the hem of the t-shirt Justin was wearing, allowing his fingertips to brush softly against the bare patch of sleep-warmed skin and draw enigmatic little figures on his stomach. The boy squirmed a little but didn’t totally rouse. If anything, the kid snuggled down even more firmly into the pillows.

 

“Justin . . . Justin . . . Hey, beautiful. Time to rise and shine. I thought maybe I could show you another of those things that boyfriends can do together, but I need for you to wake up first, okay?” Brian offered, conveniently forgetting that now that they weren't at the Dennison’s they didn't have to pretend to be boyfriends anymore.

 

“Boyfriend things?” Justin asked sleepily while innocently wiggling his ass against Brian just the tiniest bit. Brian growled deep in his chest then leaned in and lightly nipped at Justin’s ear lobe.

 

“Yes, boyfriend things, you sweet little tease. But ONLY if you’re okay with it.” Brian stressed.

 

Justin turned to face Brian, his pupils slightly dilated. “Is this going to be one of those things my mother would tell me would lead to pregnancy?” Justin asked with complete candor.

 

“Most definitely,” Brian chuckled at the boy’s continued naivety, thinking he'd have to get around to explaining about that particular issue fairly soon - but not right now. “But I promise I won't get you pregnant, Sunshine. And I also promise you'll like it. A lot.”

 

Justin wrinkled up his nose and screwed up his face as if thinking about the prospect very seriously. Then, with a genial shrug, the kid capitulated. "Okay,” he said and then he yawned widely.

 

“Okay, indeed,” Brian echoed.

 

Brian let his right hand move down lower until his fingers paused at the button on the waistband of Justin's chinos. He nimbly popped the button, all the while staring into Justin's eyes to make sure that he wasn't moving too fast. All he saw though, was an open innocence, tinged with a hint of expectation, so he quickly hurried on and pulled down the zipper too. When Justin still hadn't shown any signs of distress, Brian boldly reached inside and rubbed his palm over the boy’s hot hard length through the damp cotton of his briefs. Justin let out a little *unh* noise - halfway between startlement and pleasure - and the pace of his breathing increased but otherwise he didn't seen to be nervous or afraid and his eyes clouded over with lust.

 

So far, Justin was simply lying there, waiting for Brian to do what he was going to do, completely open to whatever new experience his boyfriend had planned for him. The boy had no pretense or preconception about what was happening. He was just living in the moment, completely trusting, completely open . . . And, fuck, if Brian didn't find that to be the most erotic thing he'd ever seen before. With a little growl, Brian dove in and snatched a kiss away from those tempting popsicle pink lips. Then he pulled back and reminded himself that he needed to slow down before he scared the kid.

 

When he saw that Justin remained unworried, still looking up at him with those trusting blue eyes and the corners of his mouth crinkled up with a hint of a smile, Brian determined it was safe to carry on. He smiled back as he very deliberately slid his hand up towards the waistband of Justin's briefs, hooked the tips of two fingers over the edge of the elastic band and slowly but inexorably tugged them downward. The pretty pink cock contained within jumped right out, as if happy to be finally freed from the constraining briefs. Brian was not at all disappointed to find that the relatively small statured boy came with a better than average sized cock attached. And right now that cock was hard and dripping precum and a lovely dusky rose color and Brian couldn't wait to grab hold of it.

 

“You . . . you’re touching my . . . my willy,” Justin observed incredulously in a hushed and breathless voice as Brian's hand closed around his dick.  

 

“Yes. I certainly am,” Brian chuckled quietly. “And I'd really like it if you would touch me the same way, Sunshine.”

 

For a moment, Justin looked more shocked by that request than he had been by any of Brian's actions. Brian watched as the boy chewed at his bottom lip nervously for a few seconds. Then a tentative hand reached out towards the already unbuttoned fly of Brian's jeans. Since Brian hadn't bothered with any briefs himself, there was nothing standing between the boy’s questing digits and Brian's cock, which was already proudly peeking through the gap of his fly. Justin stretched out one very cautious index finger and just barely brushed against the tip of the straining red head.

 

“Huh . . . It's so soft and smooth . . . Like silk. But warm too,” Justin stated his initial observations with such eager candor that Brian would have broken out laughing if the touch hadn't also been so maddeningly arousing. “Oh! It moved when I touched it!” Justin giggled and jerked his hand back momentarily. “Such a pretty color - a dark purpley red. That would be a hard color to match with my paints but I think I could come close . . .”

 

“Justin, you don't have to analyze the color right now,” Brian was being driven mad by the lightly tracing fingertips and barely there touches. “See how I'm holding you. It feels good, right?” Brian's fingers were wrapped firmly around the boy’s cock and his hand was slowly stroking up and down. The boy nodded. “Good. So, you could hold me like that too and it would feel just as good for me.”

 

Justin’s grip was experimental and not very firm, and his fist barely moved, but at least it was less aggravating than those teasing little butterfly-light touches. Besides, it hardly mattered how proficient the boy was - Brian was so fucking ready to burst it really wouldn’t take much. The only thing holding him back was his desire to make this good for the kid as well. He smiled at the younger man, nodded approvingly and then increased the pace of his own motions.

 

*Mmmmmm* The boy’s quiet moan proved that he didn’t hate what Brian was doing. “That feels . . . That feels so NICE . . . It’s like you’re touching my willy but I feel it in my tummy.” Justin’s eyes fluttered closed so he could concentrate on the nice feelings even better. “It’s all wiggly inside me.”

 

“Good. It’s supposed to feel like that, Sunshine. It should feel nice and wiggly and make your gut clench up and your balls feel like they’re on fire . . .” Brian was feeling all of that too, and he had to take a couple deep breaths to pull himself back from the brink. “Just keep moving your hand like that. Stroking me up and down. Long, tight strokes - but not too tight. See? It feels so good. Doesn’t it feel good?”

 

“Oh . . . Yeah, it feels good, Brian. Really good,” Justin’s breath was coming in short panting gasps now and he was bucking his hips into Brian’s hand on each downstroke. “Feels . . . feels . . . Oh, Brian! Just . . . Just Brian . . . Just Brian! OHHHHHH!”

 

The boy’s body convulsed and Brian felt the dick in his hand pulsing while his palm filled with a wet warmth.”Yes!” Brian let himself go as well and groaned through the release as his own cum shot out into the boy’s fist. And then they both just laid there, panting and smiling at each other, until Justin broke the spell with a hushed giggle.

 

“Welcome to your first hand job, Sunshine,” Brian moaned huskily, leaning in to kiss the invitingly breathless lips.

 

“THAT was a hand job? That fat man at the dancing place wanted to do THAT to me?” Justin was amazed. “For money?”

 

“Well, I assume he wanted YOU to do it to HIM, but that’s the basic jist,” Brian grinned at the kid’s look of disgust.

 

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t let me take that job, Brian. I don’t think I’d like doing that with a fat, ugly guy as much as I did with you.” Justin looked at his wet, sticky hand and his nose wrinkled up with a faintly displeased look - whether at the mess or at the idea of the fat ugly guy, it wasn’t clear.

 

Brian couldn’t help himself, he just had to push the kid a little bit further. So, lifting up his own hand which was still dripping with Justin’s jizz, he ostentatiously stuck out his tongue and licked up a large globule of the goo. Justin’s eyes got wide for a second before he copied Brian’s motion, lifting his own hand up and sticking out his tongue uncertainly until just the tip touched his dripping finger. The little pink tongue zipped inside and Justin smacked his lips a bit as he savored the taste.

 

“Hmmm. Salty. Kinda like the fish babies,” Justin judged and then shrugged at Brian. “You know, I did that one time by myself,” he admitted with a shy smile. “Well, I didn’t taste it. But I touched my willy like that . . . And it felt good, but not as good as doing it with you. And I was so scared my mother would find out that I never did it again.” Justin looked away as if embarrassed to admit he’d ever done such a depraved and wanton thing.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself, Sunshine. Or even touching other guys. And you shouldn’t be scared or let anyone tell you it’s wrong, not even your mother.” Brian advised, lifting the boy’s chin so he could look directly into those guileless blue eyes. “How could anything that feels that good be wrong, huh?”

 

"I guess my mother was wrong about a lot of things, Brian. Maybe she didn't have anyone to show her how good this feels." Justin replied, shrugging and then nestling back into Brian’s shoulder.

 

Brian’s arms just naturally found their way around the kid’s body until he was holding the smaller man close to his chest. He let his chin rest on top of the boy’s head and sighed. And he wondered how it was he’d managed to end up in this moment, lying in bed with the most adorable and yet confounding young man he’d ever met while taking a break from driving a stolen RV across the country. Brian also wondered how it was that someone who was so sheltered - and seemingly even more damaged than he was himself - could be so fucking amazingly insightful.

 

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Brian had only let himself wallow in bed snuggling - although he refused to consciously acknowledge that’s what it was - for about five minutes before he decided that they needed to get moving again. With one last kiss to Justin’s forehead, he was off to go investigate the RV’s shower situation. While Brian was in the shower, Justin’s stomach was saying it was time for breakfast. Brian might be right - maybe he didn’t have to cook or clean to earn love from people - but if he could make Brian a really great breakfast, he figured it certainly wouldn’t make Brian like him any less. Besides, after the little ‘lesson’ Brian had given him a few minutes earlier, Justin really wanted to do something to show him how much he cared about the enigmatic brunet. And they had to eat anyway, right? So Justin set his mind to preparing something that his boyfriend would really love.

 

While he had been searching around the RV’s kitchen the day before, he’d found, among other things, a bag of Kona coffee and coffee filters and all the fixings he’d need to make one of his favorite breakfast dishes. First, he got down the bag of coffee, measured out the grounds and poured water from one of the gallons of spring water he found in the fridge into the coffee maker to get a full pot brewing, knowing even from his short time with Brian that the man needed his morning fix of caffeine. Next, he went to the fridge and pulled out butter, eggs, sweet roasted red peppers, green bell peppers and onions. He also found some frozen spinach in the freezer along with what looked like freshly grated parmesan cheese.  

 

He quickly set the frozen spinach in another container to thaw in the microwave and proceeded to chop and dice the other veggies. After getting all the vegetables prepared to his liking, the dozen eggs were cracked and whipped up with parmesan cheese, salt, pepper, and a half stick of melted butter. Then, after squeezing out the excess liquid from the spinach, that was tossed into the mix along with the other vegetables. Another short search in the drawers and cupboards where all the pots and pans and baking items were stored unearthed a large rectangular glass baking dish, into which the mixture was poured and evenly distributed. Next, Justin placed a few of the larger pieces of the roasted red peppers on top and added a bit more parmesan cheese.  As he was putting these last finishing touches onto the egg casserole, the oven beeped in readiness to receive its bounty. Justin placed the pan in the oven and set the timer for 40 minutes.

 

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Right about then, Justin heard Brian emerging from the shower. Perfect timing the boy thought. He snatched up the operating manual from where it had been left on the floor and trotted into the bedroom with it. Brian was pulling on a pair of jeans - Justin looked away quickly, because even after what they’d done earlier that morning, he still didn’t feel right about the whole NAKED thing. Justin counted to twenty in his head, sure that that was more than enough time for Brian to get his pants on, and then turned back to find his boyfriend smiling indulgently down on him.

 

“Hey, Brian!” Justin started off, feeling strangely shy around Brian all of a sudden, but trying to ignore the weirdness. “I need you to go start the generator for us. I’m cooking us breakfast, but the appliances will drain the RV’s battery if we don’t either hook up to a power source or else run the generator. There’s a picture on page 58 that shows how to do the generator. Can you do that while I finish the food?”

 

“Generator? I don’t know . . .” Brian accepted the book that Justin was trying to shove into his hands and looked down at the open page. It did indeed show a picture of something vaguely mechanical looking and the title on the top of the page read, ‘Generator Operation’. But that didn’t mean that Brian would be able to work the thing. Generally speaking, he left all mechanical devices and anything requiring the use of hand tools to the dykes.

 

“It’s easy, Brian. You just follow the diagrams. See,” Justin pointed to a picture and then turned the book around sideways so that Brian was actually looking at the diagram the right way up. “As long as the propane tank isn’t empty, all you have to do is flip that switch and then turn that knob. Then you pull that long string thing and the generator should start right up.”

 

“Okaaaaaaayyyyyy. Where the hell is this generator thing, though,” Brian was looking around him at the corners of the bedroom as if expecting a generator to pop up out of thin air.

 

“It’s not in HERE, silly. It’s down in the basement.” Brian looked confused at that, wondering how a moving vehicle could have a ‘basement’. “The ‘basement’ is what they call the storage areas that are down underneath the living quarters. The generator is in the back storage area. You can access it through the rear hatch. See here, on page 27.” Justin flipped back several pages in the manual and pointed Brian to another diagram, this one showing the exterior of the RV with labels for all the different hatches and doors around the outside.

 

“How the hell do you know all this, Sunshine,” Brian asked, picking up a clean shirt off the bed and pulling it over his head before grabbing the manual back out of Justin’s hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever been out of your house before you came to the hospital. But somehow you know all about RV’s?”

 

“Not ALL about RV’s, Brian. Just this RV - well, at least what’s in that manual,” Justin voiced confidently, already turning back so he could return to the kitchen and his breakfast preparations. “I’m sure other RV’s are different, but most of the stuff I read about this one seemed pretty straight forward.”

 

“JUST what’s in THIS manual? You’re telling me you read the whole manual?” Brian asked, following behind the boy while he looked again at the book that was probably about three inches thick. “When the fuck did you have time to read this whole damn manual, Justin? We’ve only had the damn RV for about 9 hours and you were asleep for most of that time.”

 

“I read it before I fell asleep. I’m a pretty fast reader,” Justin seemed unconcerned about how wild that statement sounded. He was busy peeking into the oven to check the status of his fritatta and then happily puttering around the kitchen area.

 

“Fuck, Sunshine,” Brian was practically speechless at the boy’s offhand disclosure, although the more he thought about it, the fact that the kid was a champion speed reader and probably had a photographic memory to boot didn’t really seem that odd.

 

Odd was par for the course with Justin.

 

“Fine. I’ll go do your generator thing, Sunshine. But if I’m not back in an hour, send out the search parties,” Brian warned, as he climbed down the stairs, pushed open the RV’s door and made his way outside to try and look manly and mechanical.

 

While Brian was occupied with the generator, Justin, humming a happy tune, went back to the refrigerator and pulled out some fresh fruit: strawberries, clementines, blueberries, a red delicious apple, and a green apple. Justin brought all the fruit over to the sink and cleaned them. As he worked, Justin continued to hum and soon his booty was joining the act. He cut the strawberries into quarters, peeled the clementines, and cut the apples into cubes as he danced around the tiny kitchen. He arranged the pieces of fruit in little round glass bowls that he’d found in the really cool cupboards where all the dishes were stowed in clever racks that prevented them from breaking while the RV was in motion. The look of the fruit bowls was both colorful and appetizing. These were placed at the table along with spoons so that it could be eaten with their coffee while the egg dish finished baking.  

 

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Right as he was adding some napkins he’d found in another drawer, the lights inside the RV flickered and Justin heard the generator kick in. Soon after, Brian came strolling through the door with a jaunty little step, looking rather pleased with himself. He sauntered over to where his blond was still puttering around in the kitchen and wrapped his long arms around the boy’s thin waist, depositing a kiss on the tempting neck just because he could.

 

“Good job getting the generator started, Brian. Now, sit. The coffee is ready and I’ve put together some bowls of fruit. The eggs will be done in a few minutes.” Justin advised happily.

 

“Wow! Aren’t you a regular ‘Suzy Homemaker’,” Brian teased, but still obeyed the boy’s directions and moved over to slide into the bench seat at the built-in table. “He can draw and cook, too. You’ll make someone a great wife someday, Sunshine.”

 

“I told you, I did all the cooking and cleaning for my mother. I’m actually a pretty good cook. Well, at least that’s what my mother always told me,” Justin stated, with more than a hint of pride. “But, my name isn’t ‘Suzy’. It’s Justin. And I’ve never made any homes - just the occasional frittata . . . Oh, and, I think you have to be a girl to be a wife, Brian.” Justin looked over his shoulder at Brian with exasperation. “You DO know, you say the strangest things sometimes, right?”

 

Brian snickered but didn’t bother replying to the boy’s non-sequitur. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he’d come back inside and smelled the aroma of whatever it was Justin was preparing. He also really needed that coffee. So he wasn’t lax in helping himself to both the mug of coffee and the delicious looking fruit bowl. Justin slid into the other bench seat and sat with Brian while they both enjoyed some of the fruit and sipped at some sweet black coffee. As they were enjoying the fruit appetizer, the timer went off on the oven. Justin jumped up, grabbed the oven mitts and checked the status of the egg concoction by slipping a knife in it to check for doneness.

 

Everything must have been fine because Justin immediately removed the casserole from the oven and placed it on the stovetop to cool. Next, he dug out two dishes from their rack in the cupboard, wiped them off and set them on the table. After a couple of minutes, Justin cut up the casserole and brought it to the table too, using a wooden cutting board to protect the table from the hot baking dish. Brian was salivating over the scrumptious looking dish even before Justin could get his serving plated.

With his first bite, Brian was moaning with gustatory delight. The texture was that of a quiche but without the crust. The flavors of the different vegetables complemented one another and the parmesan cheese definitely added a savory bite. Brian rapidly followed up his first bite with a second and even a third before he took a break long enough to compliment the cook.

 

“Shit, Sunshine! This is fantastic!” Brian stated with a groan of satisfaction as he cut off another piece and forked it into his mouth. “I’m going to put on 10 pounds before we make it back to the Pitts if you keep cooking like this.”

 

Normally Brian was a picky eater, but this was too tasty to pass up. Before he knew it, he’d devoured the whole thing and Justin was already spooning out a second serving onto his plate. Brian only hesitated a split second, reasoning that it WAS mostly vegetables after all, before he started forking in that plateful as well.

 

As Brian finished up the last of his frittata and fruit, and then leaned back to sip the rest of his coffee, he looked around himself. For the first time since they’d left the Dennison’s the night before he finally had a chance to relax and think about things. The RV he was sitting in was more like a fucking penthouse on wheels than the image of a typical camper he’d always had in his head. Yeah, it was more than likely stolen, but as long as they didn't get stopped by the cops before they got home, he could always figure out some way to turn it in to the authorities in PA. And in the meantime, it certainly had a nice enough bed. Even the shower, while tiny, wasn't too bad. Plus, he had the bonus of a hot looking blond cook and bedwarmer. Things could be a lot worse. Now all he needed to do was plot out their route home and get a move on to Pittsburgh.

 

Getting up from the table Brian got himself another cup of coffee, gave Justin a brief kiss, and proceeded to look over the atlas he’d discovered while Justin cleaned up the dishes and stashed any leftovers in the fridge for later.

 

Oh, happy trails!

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End Notes:

11/13/15 - Hot or not? Tell us what you think. Next up, the road trip really begins. Anybody out there ever driven across the country? Got any favorite funny road trip stories. Leave us a comment or email us and we might just include your story in our story! J.S.T.

Chapter 11 - About a Girl by samcdee
Author's Notes:

What will Brian think of to take up the time while they're on the road? Bet he never thought he'd be forced to go visit tourist attractions . . . Oh, and there's always long empty lengths of road to encourage deep conversations . . . Poor Brian! Enjoy! J.S.T.

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Chapter 11 - About a Girl.

 

By the time the boys had cleaned up and stowed everything - and Brian had figured out how to turn the generator off again - It was after nine am. Brian seated himself back behind the steering wheel and took a deep breath before twisting the key in the ignition. Now that it was daylight and there were a lot more cars moving around him, he was feeling a renewed sense of dread at having to operate this whale of a vehicle. Even just pulling out of the rest stop was nerve wracking, with all the smaller, more maneuverable cars zipping around him. Luckily the RV parking at the rest stop had been set up so that the big rigs could just pull in and then pull right out again without having to back up. Brian was not ready for backing up.

 

Justin had immediately assumed the navigator’s role. The captain’s chair where the second passenger sat was offset a little behind where the driver was positioned - this was because the main door in and out of the RV was on the right side at the very front. From his chair, though, Justin could not only see the in-dash GPS display, but by swiveling his chair around, he could access the built-in computer console set into the countertop behind him. This made Justin the perfect navigator with all possible modern adventure technologies right at his fingertips.

 

 

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The boy had the GPS system up and running before Brian had even reached cruising speed on the interstate. With the operating manual in his lap for guidance and the computer’s operating manual open on the counter next to the monitor, he was already busy typing and tapping away. Brian was too busy trying to concentrate on keeping the behemoth on the highway and within the lines of his lane of traffic to worry much about what the boy was doing, though. He was pretty sure he just had to keep driving eastwards for about another two thousand plus miles. That was more than enough to keep him occupied.

 

“This is SOOOOO cool, Brian!” Justin announced enthusiastically after they’d been on the road for less than five full minutes. “The GPS is tied into the computer thingy so you can see the maps on the computer. And then I used the moving thingy to point an arrow at this green dot on the map and it showed all sorts of pictures of stuff around here that we can go to. There’s museums and restaurants and parks and hiking trails . . . Oh, and it shows the closest gas stations - which will be good when we need to get more gas for the RV - and campgrounds . . .”

 

Justin was quiet for about two minutes while he apparently figured out how to use the computer’s mouse to explore all the adventure potential coming up on the road ahead. “So, we’re about five miles from a town called Baker City, Oregon. There’s a museum there and something called a Farmer’s Market today . . . OH! Oh, oh, oh, Brian! Did you know that we’re following along the Oregon Trail right now! This highway parallels the original trail road. And there’s a museum right off the interstate we can go to. Can we, Brian! Can we, please. Please! I read a great book once about a kid on the Oregon Trail and all his hardships and . . .”

 

“We can’t stop at every fucking roadside attraction and tourist trap we drive by. If we did, it would take us fucking months to get home and I don’t have that kind of time, Sunshine.” Brian snarked. “Besides, I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in seeing some redneck’s idea of a good time. Next thing you know you’ll want to stop and see the World’s Biggest Ball of Twine or Carhenge or the Leaning Tower of Cow Pies or some other shit. I might have been forced into driving an RV, but I haven’t sunk THAT low yet!”

 

“Yeah . . . you’re probably right. It probably wouldn’t be all that interesting anyway . . .” Justin’s crestfallen tone matched the dejected face Brian could see reflected in the mirrored surface of the dashboard.

 

Justin closed up the computer manual book and turned in his chair so that he wasn’t looking at the computer anymore. A quick sideways glance showed Brian that the boy was now just staring dispiritedly out the window and all his effervescent excitement from just a moment before had evaporated. Brian hated that he’d been the one to dash the kid’s excitement and also how easily the younger man had let himself be defeated. And he also hated that the poor kid really hadn’t had any life to speak of before last week - seeing as how his mother never let him out of their fucking house. Could Brian really deny the kid the chance to see one or two grammar school attractions and interesting curiosities?

 

“Fuck! You’re killing me here, Sunshine. You know that, right?” Brian whined, reminiscent of his best friend, Mikey. “Fine . . . We can go see the fucking Oregon Trail thing, Justin. But you only get one hour. And no more than one field trip a day, so choose your roadside attractions wisely. Oh, and I won’t go see anything having to do with cow shit - I don’t care how excited it might make you.” Brian relented with a scowl. “So, where the fuck do I turn to get to this magnificent ancient trail?”

 

“Yay! Thank you, Brian. Thank you. Oh, and you need to take the next exit,” Justin directed, and before Brian knew what hit him he was driving his whale-sized RV across sagebrush covered plains towards some hetero tourist trap that he wouldn’t normally have been caught dead in.

 

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The narrow little two lane highway that they had to drive down from the interstate to get to this wondrous adventure spot was a bit of a challenge for Brian. It wasn’t really technically wide enough for his Whale and another car to pass at the same time. He had to sort of swerve partially off onto the shoulder every time another car came down the road. But, somehow, Brian managed to keep them out of a ditch. After about five miles of this, they pulled through a gate with a big sign saying they’d arrived at the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. Brian parked the RV in the lot - which thankfully had RV parking spaces that he wouldn’t have to back out of - and had barely turned off the engine before Justin was down the stairs and out the door.

 

The first thing the boy did was run off down the little side trail that led from the parking area to where a ring of authentic replica Conestoga Wagons adorned the prairie. Along with a bevy of ten year old boys, there for the day with their scout troop, Justin spent several minutes climbing in and out of the realistic wagons and reading all the informative educational plaques. Brian just stood off to the side, shaking his head at the kid’s antics and taking the opportunity to smoke a cigarette. When another parent joined him and asked which of the horde of kids was his, Brian laughed uproariously and pointed to Justin, who was now dressed in a printed cotton shirt, a leather blacksmith’s apron and a cowboy hat, and was busy showing another visitor the cool pile of horseshoes and other ironmongery he’d found in one of the wagons. The other parent gave Brian an odd look and then moved away to finish his cigarette in peace. Brian couldn’t resist the temptation, so he headed over directly to where Justin was and gave the young man a big sloppy wet kiss right on his lips. The leader of the boy scout troop immediately moved the rest of the boys away from him while Brian chuckled.

 

As soon as Brian could get Justin out of his dress-up clothes, they headed into the main museum. The permanent exhibits were mostly a bunch of hokey dioramas that Brian couldn’t have been bothered with. Justin, though, seemed spellbound by everything he saw. He made Brian sit with him to watch a video presentation on the rigors of the trail that gruesomely detailed the numbers of folks that died from various causes along the way. Then Justin spent the next twenty minutes working alongside two little girls to help them pack up a wagon with all the essentials they’d need on the trip - it was an interactive exhibit so every time they thought they’d got the load right, they’d push a button on a nearby console and were told why whatever they’d picked wasn’t quite right.

 

Brian meanwhile wandered around, not really finding anything much to hold his interest for long until he reached a little side alcove with a plaque indicating this part of the exhibit was called, ‘Sinners and Saints: Indelicate Stories of Emigrants in the West’. That actually DID interest Brian slightly so he headed inside to view the less than savory stories of the REAL people of the west. The gist of this exhibit seemed to be that the original emigrants were quite the bunch of alternative thinkers. Brian was fascinated to read about all the characters who’d made up those original settlers. And, because they were so far removed from the strictures of civilization, the West seemed to be quite the haven for folks who just otherwise didn’t fit in.

 

 

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There were drawings and original manuscripts from the time and also headphones placed along the walls of the exhibit giving more information on the different facets of the stories that were to be told. Brian came across a particularly eye catching themed story set, ‘To Have and To Hold . . . Clothes Make the Man’, which told the tale of several cross-dressing emigrant women who chose to live their lives as men . . . and mostly got away with it. Apparently, to take advantage of some of the freedoms granted to men, more than a few women took on male roles. A couple of these - the exhibit specifically noted a Charley Parkhurst, who’d made a living as a stagecoach driver in California, and an Idaho resident going by the name Joe Monahan, who made a great deal of money in the mines, but lost everything before settling into cattle ranching - managed to pull off their masquerades for decades, only to be found out after their deaths to have been women, not men. Brian had to respect anyone, male or female, who had the balls to be who they wanted to be in contravention of society and he lapped up those stories. Who would have guessed that Drag Kings had been around a century before it was fashionable?

 

There was also a large part of the exhibit dedicated to the Native American peoples who were known as Two-Spirited. Brian was fascinated to find that, almost two hundred years ago, gay people in North America were not only accepted but also revered by at least a segment of the nation. And, from what he read, the emigrants that followed the Oregon Trail were at least tolerant of these Two-Spirited People as well. Too bad the practice hadn’t held up in the intervening hundred or so years.

 

In fact, Brian was so caught up in this particular exhibit that he didn’t have any idea how much time had passed. When Justin finally tugged on his shirt sleeve and told him that the allotted hour for this field trip was up, Brian was actually a little reluctant to leave because he’d just started reading yet another interesting account about how women in the Oregon Territories were given the right to divorce their abusive husbands right from the very beginning - probably because there were so few women in the territory at the start and they therefore held a lot more power. But, Brian didn’t want to be caught out breaking his own rules this early in the game, so he let his Sunshine pull him out of the museum and back to the Whale of an RV.  

 

“Brian, wasn’t that exciting? I’ve never seen so many interesting things in one place before. And look . . . someone even gave me this cool T-shirt.” Justin proudly pushed out his chest in order to display his lucky acquisition.

 

 

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Brian groaned, only now realizing that this trip would likely involve even more tacky t-shirts on his Sunshine’s behalf. Maybe he could just pretend he didn’t know the boy for the next two thousand miles? Based on the way Justin was hanging on Brian’s arm and jumping around him like a chihuahua on crack, that didn’t seem likely though. Guess he was going to have to learn to deal with novelty tee’s. When Justin leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, Brian decided that it wasn’t such a bad deal after all.

 

As soon as Brian got the RV back onto the Interstate heading southeast, the drive became a bit tedious. There was basically nothing to see outside except endless rolling hills covered with sagebrush and piles of dirt. There weren’t even very many towns through this stretch so there was nothing to break up the boredom. They did stop in a little truck stop at a place called ‘Farewell Bend’, Oregon to get Justin a soda and Brian a new pack of cigarettes, some condoms, and lube - just in case, you know. Justin of course scurried off to read the Historical Marker sign, but other than that, there wasn’t much else going on in Farewell Bend. Brian was happy to wave goodbye when they finally pulled out.

 

 

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Once they were back on the road though, Brian started feeling antsy. He’d never spent this long cooped up with one guy before. It was far too quiet and there weren’t any distractions to keep them occupied. There was just Justin sitting there, drawing in his sketchbook, or playing games on the computer. Sometimes the boy would even start to hum softly. None of which did dick to lessen Brian’s slight sense of anxiety. He kept thinking that something he wouldn’t like much was about to happen.

 

“Brian?”

 

And here it is, thought Brian, almost relieved when the kid started into the conversation that he’d been half expecting.

 

“Why was that Chester guy yelling at you about cookware yesterday? He sounded so mean. What was so special about those pots and kettles anyway? And what is a coming bucket?” Justin asked with his trademark innocence - eliciting the expected groan from Brian.

 

“We weren’t really talking about cookware, Justin. Do you know what a proverb is? Chester was accusing me of doing something that he was just as guilty of doing himself. That’s what was meant by the Pot calling the Kettle black - they’re both just as black because they both get blackened by the fire. That’s the basis of that proverb.”

 

“Okay. That makes sense, I guess. But what about the coming buckets? Is that a proverb too?” Justin inquired.

 

“No, that was me being nasty back at Chester for saying all those mean things,”  Brian paused trying to think of some way of easing the kid into this discussion. “You know that white stuff that came out of your penis this morning when we gave each other a hand job? The stuff you said tasted salty? That’s semen, which is more commonly known as cum.”

 

Justin was still a bit confused, because he still didn’t know what that had to do with buckets. Or why Brian would be doing THAT with Chester - Justin hadn’t liked Chester much and he didn’t think Brian had been fond of him either. So why would Brian offer him a job? The young man didn’t say anything, though, he just sat and looked over at Brian with a quizzical look on his beautiful face. Brian took another brief pause before forging ahead.

 

“You see, I first met that guy Chester at this party a few months ago. And while he was there, I saw him going off to have sex with many, MANY, men. He wasn’t very particular about who he went off with either. He just let them use him however they wanted, and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t always being careful. My saying that he was a cum bucket implied that I didn’t think he was being careful and using protection when having intercourse and was being filled by that white stuff aka cum.”

 

“But he said that you went off with a lot of men too - that you were just as black of a kettle. Does that mean that just like Chester, you’re a cum bucket? And how would you get filled with it. Did you taste it all . . . like this morning?”

 

Brian couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy’s unjaded rationalization. But a second later, when he realized that Justin had basically NO concept of sex at all and that he was going to have to explain EVERYTHING, his laughter died. Shit! Brian really did not see himself in this role. He was much better at demonstrations than explanations. But, that didn’t seem like it would be enough in this situation. So, with an exasperated sigh, Brian launched into a full-out explanation of the birds and the bees . . . with a decidedly gay tilt to things.

 

When he was through, Brian looked over at his companion and noted the stunned expression on the boy’s face.

 

“You mean . . . people actually do that stuff? To each other? You put your willy . . . there? I . . . I . . . Wow! I didn’t really ever think . . . I mean, wow . . . And people LIKE that?” Justin seemed pretty lost for words. “Have YOU ever had someone put their willy . . . you know, back there?”

 

“Yep. I have. And I liked it, too!” Brian admitted, enjoying the even more shocked look on the boy’s face.

 

“But . . . wouldn’t it hurt? I mean, it must have hurt A LOT.” Justin was remembering the size of Brian’s willy from this morning, and he looked down at his hand, gauging the size of THAT by the size of his palm and getting even more worried. “How long did you have to stay in the hospital afterwards, Brian?”

 

Brian laughed so hard at that question that his eyes teared up and he almost ran the RV off the road. “It’s not THAT bad, Justin. I mean, yeah, it can hurt a little sometimes, but that’s a part of it. And once you get past the small amount of pain, it’s really fucking wonderful. It’s actually one of the best parts of being a gay man.” Brian started to explain but then he had a brilliant idea that would also get him off the hook for at least a little while.

 

“My mother told me about sex, Brian, but she never said ANYTHING about this,” Justin tried to explain his mother’s sex education teachings. “She said that if two people kissed, that one would get pregnant and a baby would come nine months later. She never said anything about my willy or . . . or putting it there! And I think she was talking about a girl and a boy kissing, because I did think that only girls could have babies, although she didn’t really explain that part either and I got a little confused sometimes by everything she would say.”

 

“If you really want to understand, Justin, I’m probably not the best teacher . . . well, not while I’m driving. I’d be happy to show you more about what happens between two boys once we’re stopped. But in the meantime, why don’t you fire up that computer and check out the ‘Joys of Gay Sex’. It’s a book, but I’m sure you can get it through the internet. It will explain everything. Well, everything about gay sex. If you want to know about straight sex you’ll have to talk to someone else or look it up somewhere else. That shit grosses even me out.”

 

So, for about the next hundred miles, Justin was pretty much engrossed by his research. Brian kept hearing these little amazed screeching noises from the vicinity of the computer. He didn’t want to interfere though, so he kept his attention focused on the road. There was a lot of clicking and ohh and ahh’ing, so Brian figured that Justin was going beyond just the rudiments of sex positions. And, about the time they were coming up on the road signs indicating they were getting close to Boise, Idaho, he heard Justin sigh as he shut down the computer once again.

 

“Wow! I really had NO idea, Brian.” Justin finally broke the silence, turning around in his chair to stare at the road ahead of them. “And, you say you’ve done . . . these things?”

 

“Well, I don’t know exactly what THINGS you’re talking about, Sunshine. But, given my past . . . Let’s just say it’s probable that I’ve done most of what you’ve come across.” Brian admitted.

 

“And you LIKED it?” It was said more as a statement of fact than as a question. And then Justin fell silent again for a time as he processed all he’d just discovered while Brian waited to see what would come next. “Hmmmm. I guess that I have a lot more to learn about boyfriends than just about kissing and hand jobs and tasting like fish babies . . .”

 

“That you do, Sunshine. That you do. But, one thing at a time . . .” Brian contemplated all the possibilities of what might happen over the many, many miles yet to come on their journey and groaned.

 

Brian just hoped that his now much too tight pants, which were painfully constricting his hard cock at the moment, wouldn’t remain that way for the entire trip.

 

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End Notes:

11/14/15 - Coming up, the Leaning Tower of Cow Pies . . . Just kidding! But more fun adventures will be coming soon. J.S.T.

Chapter 12 - The Man Who Sold The World by samcdee
Author's Notes:

How do Brian and Justin fit in with the typical denizens of an RV park? Read on and see! Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 12 - The Man Who Sold The World

 

“THIS is a ‘Campground’?” Brian asked for the tenth time as he pulled the RV into the slot they’d been assigned by the ‘Camp Host’. “I know I’m a city boy, and I’ve never actually been camping myself, but I always pictured a campground as something involving tents and lots of trees and nature and shit . . . This place is basically a glorified parking lot.”

 

Brian looked around him at the RV Campground that Justin had found online and insisted that they stop at for the night. It was mostly just a flat parcel of ground with rows of cement pads set up for RVs to pull into. They were all spaced about fifteen meters apart without anything between one slot and the next. There were a few spindly looking trees scattered around, but nothing that screamed out woods let alone forest. Each parking spot did have a fire pit with a metal surround and flip top grill attached - which was kind of campground like, Brian figured. And, as it turned out, the space they’d been assigned to was on the edge of the campground so that on the right side of their RV there was nothing but a big open field - which was as close to ‘Nature’ as it looked like they were going to get.

 

“Cool! They’ve got a swimming pool, an exercise room and even a hot tub,” Justin gushed, reading through the brochure that the Campground Host had given them when they’d pulled in. “Can we try out the hot tub, Brian. I’ve always wanted to try one. They sound so cozy.”

 

“You’re just proving my point, here, Sunshine,” Brian stated as the RV rolled to a stop and he carefully set the parking brake. “Instead of a campground, I feel like I’m being lured into the Borg Collective, where I’m assigned a slot and then hooked up with wires and hoses to the collective mind.” Brian looked down at the flyer he’d been given that showed how to get the RV connected to the camp’s power and water lines. It looked even more complicated than that generator thing had been. Shit, why wasn’t there ever a helpful dyke with power tools around when you needed one?

 

“Please, Brian! I’ve never been in a swimming pool or a hot tub before. Please, can we go!” Justin followed Brian down the stairs and out the door of the RV, hopping around like a mexican jumping bean and begging Brian pathetically.

 

“Stop jumping around! Yes. You can go to the pool, Sunshine. But not until you help me get this thing hooked up to all the wires and cables and shit. Camping my ass . . .”

 

Brian stood in front of the standing reciprocal next to their RV pad and stared at the metal box where he was supposed to somehow connect his new RV to the camp’s power grid and cable television service. There were lots of empty holes where he assumed he’d have to plug something in. He just didn’t know what to plug in. He looked back at the RV as if some helpful wires and cables would just snake their way out of the vehicle and attach themselves. That didn’t happen though. It was looking like Brian was going to have to get mechanical again.

 

“Here, Brian,” Justin, thankfully, came running to his aid with the operating manual opened to a new page showing even more technical diagrams. “There should be cables and stuff behind that panel there. And you hook them up like in this picture . . .”

 

Using that guide, Brian did manage to find the panel that, once opened, revealed a mishmash of different cables and wires. Apparently some of those wires were supposed to be inserted into the box next to their parking space. Which ones went where was the problem. There seemed to be a lot of them and they were labeled with strange abbreviations that didn’t seem to correspond to the abbreviations on the flyer the Host had given him. It took Brian several tries to realize that these weird wires were designed to fit in a particular way. By the time he was able to figure out the pattern, his hands were painfully swollen both from the effort and because he’d scraped his knuckles more than a few times. But he thought he probably had at least the power and the cable hooked up right.

 

The water service was another matter. Nestled inside the rearmost storage hatch Brian found three gargantuan tanks full of liquid. Hanging on the hatch door, there was a hose that Brian assumed was supposed to be used to hook one or more of these up to the camp’s water supply. The question was, which tank did he attach it to?

 

“Howdy, Neighbor!” The loud, gregarious, southern twanged voice startled Brian so much that he dropped the hose he’d been holding and then bumped his head on the metal frame of the hatch when he bent to pick it up. “Welcome to the Twin Falls RV Park! Mabel and I are set up next door, so I thought I’d mosey over and introduce myself. I’m Hank Pearson.” The short, rosy faced man with the shaggy grey beard and enormous pot belly held out his hand congenially towards Brian - Brian shook it but dropped the hose again in the process. “Looks like you’re in need of a hand . . . or four.” The portly man laughed so robustly that his shaking belly and increasingly rosier cheeks reminded Brian of a bearded mall Santa. “I’m an old hand at this RV shit. Me and the Mrs. have been back and forth across the country about five times now, so I can pretty much hook up one of these rigs in my sleep. Let me see that hose and I’ll have you set up in no time. Here, hold this for me, son,” Hank passed his beer can to Brian, took the hose from him and in less than five minutes had them hooked up to the water supply.

 

“See . . . nothing to it youngster. Hope you were paying attention. You don’t want to be getting your black water tank mixed up with your fresh water tank. Har har har har!”

 

“Hank, Honey, I thought you and our new neighbor could use a couple more beers,” a petite older woman with a big gap-toothed smile interrupted, handing one of the Coors tallboy cans she was carrying to her husband and the other to an appreciative but surprised Brian. “I’m Mabel. I’m this one’s better half. I hope he hasn’t talked your ear off yet. He does tend to make friends a little too easily. But, then again, that’s one of the good things about living in an RV - there’s always someone new that hasn’t already heard all of Hank’s stories. And it’s better that you have to listen to them than me for the thousandth time.” Despite her slightly bitter words, the woman was looking at her man with a doting smile and Brian got a very contented feeling from the couple. “Now, don’t you be shy if you or your wife need anything. I’ve got just about everything you could imagine tucked away in our RV. So, if you need anything for dinner fixin’s just send her right over. You hear!”

 

“Thanks, but I don’t have a wife. I have a . . . Justin!” Brian hollered the name loudly, seeking reinforcements before having to deal with the ‘neighbors’ on his own any longer.

 

“Hey, Brian. I was digging in the closets and drawers and stuff and I found swimsuits for us so we can go to the pool,” Justin said as he poked his head out of the RVs door, waving two smallish pieces of clothing in the air as evidence.

 

“Well. Hello there, young man. We were just getting acquainted out here. I’m Mabel and this is my hubby, Hank. Welcome to Twin Falls,” said the grandmotherly woman.

 

“Hi! I’m Justin. It’s very nice to meet you Ma’am, Sir. We were just going to head to the pool. Would you like to come for a swim with us?”


Mabel chuckled softly and replied that they were thinking of heading over there in a bit themselves. And then, she proposed, the boys could come back over for another beer after their swim. Justin gave her one of his blindingly happy smiles and then ducked back inside to get changed into his swimsuit.

 

“Hmmmm. Well, that boy’s quite a little cutie, isn’t he? Now, you said you didn’t have a wife, and since there’s no resemblance between you two, I’d say you couldn’t be brothers. You’re not old enough to be his father. So that leaves nephew or step-son . . . or?” Mabel winked in Brian’s direction, fixing her shawl tighter around her shoulders and moving closer to Hank.

 

“Uh . . . Justin’s not my nephew, and I’ve never been married.” Brian nervously rubbed the back of his neck, uncertain of how much disclosure was deemed safe in this situation. But, since both Hank and Mabel just kept staring at him expectantly, Brian finally decided to just get it over with and hope for the best. “Justin happens to be my . . . my boyfriend.” Brian cringed at using the ‘b’ term, but figured that was the easiest thing for these folks to understand.

 

There was an awkward moment of silence before either Mabel or Hank could find the words to respond to this confession. “Oh . . . Well, I uh . . . Now, that’s different. Isn’t it, Hank?” Mabel seemed a bit tongue tied and flustered but not all that taken aback by Brian’s disclosure.

 

“Son, what Mabel is trying to say is . . . Well, what she means to say is . . . We never met no gays before, but I’ve seen a lot of different things in my life - lots of different types of people, too - and I try not to judge. You two seem like decent folks so far, so I guess it’s all good. No worries,” Hank clapped Brian on the shoulder amicably and smiled from behind his large-framed, tinted-lensed glasses. “Now, I’ll just grab us a couple of drinks and we’ll all head on over to the pool. You ever had a Coors Clamato before? No? Well, you’re gonna love it.”

 

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Brian was still sipping at the weird but surprisingly good tasting beer/clam juice/tomato drink that Hank had forced on him while the two men were sitting by the pool watching Justin cavorting in the water as Mabel did some kind of water aerobics in the shallow end. The young blond had instantly made friends with the two children who’d already been in the water - probably grandchildren of some of the park’s other RV residents - and the three of them were currently splashing around and trying to teach Justin how to swim. Brian was wondering how someone like Justin, who’d never been in a swimming pool before, was going to manage without drowning. Brian was a pretty strong swimmer himself, but he really didn’t relish the idea of having to dive in and rescue the boy either. Although, so far, Justin seemed to take to the water as easily as a baby otter, so maybe he was just a natural in this too.

 

Right about the time that Hank started to get up to go get them two more drinks - the man drank like a fucking fish, no wonder he had rosy cheeks all the time - Brian’s cell phone began to ring.

 

“Brian! Thank fuck, you finally picked up. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day!” Ted’s petulant voice screeched into Brian’s ear as soon as he’d answered the call. “Where the hell are you, anyway? You may not know it yet, but you’re already downwind of a Category Five Shitstorm and you need to get back here and deal with it right away.”

 

“Slow the fuck down, Theodore! I’m not even in the state. How could I be in any trouble?” Brian replied with a touch of annoyance.

 

“I think that’s WHY you’re in trouble, Brian,” Ted sounded worried even after he’d calmed down enough that he wasn’t yelling into the phone. “So, I was in the lounge this morning after breakfast and I heard a couple of the hospital staff talking about this patient who’d gone missing. Then I hear them talking about some video from the security cameras that seemed to show the guy leaving the hospital on Thursday night with a tall, thin, dark-haired, good looking guy. They were speculating that this dark-haired guy had either helped the patient escape or maybe even kidnapped him. Did you hear me, Brian? KIDNAPPED!” Ted yelled the word and Brian had to jerk the phone away from his ear to avoid going deaf. “Next thing I know they’re showing copies of the video feed and whose picture do you think I see . . . Please tell me, Brian, that you didn’t take home a cute little blond trick that you met somewhere around the hospital the night you came to visit me. Please?”

 

“Shit!” was Brian’s only reply.

 

“Fuck! That’s what I was afraid of,” Ted sounded defeated. “Brian . . . I saw the picture of the kid, and I know he looks adorable, but from what I hear this guy is seriously unhinged. They were saying he’s a dangerous schizophrenic. Apparently he was being held here for observation until the cops could decide whether or not he was sane enough to be charged with some violent crime. They wouldn’t tell the rest of us patients what the kid was accused of, but they kept telling everyone that he was dangerous and if we knew where he was at that we needed to tell them for everyone’s safety.” Ted’s voice had all of a sudden become much quieter, as if he was now worried about being overheard.

 

“It’s not like that at all, Theodore,” Brian insisted immediately, indignant that anyone would think that little Sunshine was at all dangerous or violent . . . notwithstanding the kid’s own admission about what had happened to his mother. “I didn’t kidnap him. He just sort of followed me out and then refused to go back. And I wasn’t going to force him. Besides, I don’t know what happened to Justin, but I really don’t think he’s all that crazy. I mean, besides the occasional panic attack and not liking shoes, I think he’s highly functional. Maybe even brilliant, in an unconventional way. But, it doesn’t really matter, because we’re on our way back to the Pitts. It might take a few days though.”

 

“Well, just hurry the fuck up already. I didn’t tell anyone that I recognized you, Brian, but it’s only a matter of time till somebody ID’s you. I mean they DO have your name on the visitor’s log and I’m sure they’ll be asking around. I won’t lie outright, especially if the cops start asking questions, but I won’t volunteer anything either. So, please, Brian, just get back here before they start asking me shit!”

 

“I’ll do my best, but things are a little . . . complicated right now,” Brian wondered just how much to explain to his friend, but then, as he watched Justin do a cannonball into the pool with a joyous look on his face, he decided that his friend just wouldn’t understand anyway. “We’ll be there when we get there, Theodore. I gotta go. Later.” Brian hung up and determined not to worry over Ted’s little rant since there really wasn’t anything he could do about it just then anyway. Instead, he decided to go join the kid in the pool after all.

 

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After Justin was thoroughly waterlogged, Hank and Mabel had dragged them both back to their RV and forced them to join in what turned out to be a group BBQ. Several of the ‘neighbors’ were brought over and everyone introduced to the campground’s ‘Gay Boys’. Brian felt like an exhibit at the zoo - with everyone coming over to meet him and Justin and making a point to tell them about every single gay person they’d ever known in the past including their cousin’s odd children and those nice young men who’d lived down the block. They were all extremely polite, but Brian still felt like they were some curiosity that was being ogled. Justin however seemed like he was in seventh heaven as all the grandmotherly types fawned over him, insisting that he eat seconds of every single dish and making a point to send him home with extra helpings of dessert for later in the week.

 

After all the food was cleared away, Justin was drafted into playing a vicious game of Uno with the ladies seated around the picnic bench between the two RVs while the ‘men’ all sat around in camp chairs drinking and swapping stories. Brian was apparently included in with the ‘men’. He got to listen to a lot of stories from several of the older gentlemen who’d toured in Viet Nam, found out that Hank had ridden with the Hell’s Angels for about five years in his youth and that Bill used to race formula one race cars and even held the world’s land speed record for about two hours back in 1986.

 

Brian suspected that, even though they were all dealing reasonably well with the introduction of two gay men into their select circle, all these ‘manly’ stories were merely overcompensation. Brian didn’t think they’d be impressed by his tales of how he’d once managed to buy the entire Armani spring collection two months before it was actually released or how he’d fucked every hot guy, gay, straight or undecided back in the Pitts. Mostly he just sat quietly and sipped his Coors Clamato.

 

Until, that is, Hank spoke up. “So, what about you Brian . . . what do you do for a living?”

 

“I’m in advertising. I just started my own agency back in Pittsburgh. I was actually out in Oregon trying to drum up a new client.” Brian began.

 

Before he knew it the whole group was spellbound by Brian’s tales of the cutthroat world of advertising. They seemed suitably impressed when they heard that he’d actually won a CLIO award and a couple of them had even heard of a few of the campaigns he’d done while back at Ryder or Vanguard.

 

“YOU’RE the ‘Eat the Meat’ man? Mabel and I loved those commercials! That was a brilliant campaign. The ads were so memorable - you just couldn’t forget them. We still go to Frawley’s Steak Houses whenever there’s one around!” Hank chuckled, recalling that those commercials were funny yet a bit salacious. “Not bad for a young whippersnapper such as yourself. And, I may seem a bit of a hick, but even I caught that double entendre.”

 

“And my granddaughters were agog for those ‘Pool Boy’ wine coolers just for the labels!” Bill added his two cents in. “Those things tasted like piss water but the local liquor store couldn’t stock them fast enough.”

 

“Well, with ideas like that, I’m sure you’ll go far, young man,” Hank lauded Brian, who now felt just as manly and accomplished as the rest of them.

 

About that time, though, Justin came over, plopped down in Brian’s lap and started yawning. It had been a long couple of days and they hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, so Brian determined it was time to call it a night. He made their excuses, handed out a few of his business cards to the ‘guys’ - who all promised to pass them along to various friends and relatives they knew who might need Brian’s services.

 

And then Brian bundled his beautiful blond off for their own private time in their own little piece of RV heaven.

 

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End Notes:

11/16/15 - Should Brian hurry to get back to the Pitts and turn in his escaped blond mental patient companion or take his time and enjoy this adventure? Hmmm. Let's see . . .  J.S.T.

Chapter 13 - Scentless Apprentice by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Before the boys get back on the road, Justin has a few new tricks he'd like to try out . . . Maybe Brian won't really want to get back to Pittsburgh so fast after all? Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 13 - Scentless Apprentice

 

Brian was having the oddest dream. At least he thought it was a dream. He hoped it was a dream. It HAD to be a dream. He couldn’t really be tied down in a circus tent while a tiger cub licked at him all over. Could he? And that little tiger tongue was so ticklish too. It was licking at his chest, then at his stomach and even moving down to lick at his cock. All the while the cub was purring. The licks were very light and raspy and wet and ticklish and felt oh so good. And Brian really didn’t care anymore if the baby tiger was going to eat him or not because it felt so amazingly good.

 

*Mmmmmm* Brian moaned out his approval and tried to shift closer to the tantalizing cat tongue but the ropes binding him wouldn’t let him get his arms free.

 

Then the tiger blinked at him with piercing blue eyes and giggled at him.

 

Which didn’t seem right. Tigers didn’t giggle did they? This tiger cub apparently did though. And it did it again, before starting back on it’s tortuous tickling tongue work all up and down Brian’s torso. The tickling caused Brian to squirm again, but he still couldn’t get free from the ropes binding his arms in place.

 

But then the little tiger cub did bite him - on the inside of his right thigh - not hard but hard enough that Brian didn’t just squirm. He bucked upward, trying to escape before the tiger bit him again. He really didn’t want to be eaten alive, even if it was by a hungry little tiger cub with cornflower blue eyes that giggled. Next the voracious cat began to nibble at his hard and swollen cock, and the fact that the little cub seemed determined to eat his cock first was especially worrisome to Brian. He started to struggle in earnest now, thrashing in his bonds and trying to pull away from the giggling, maddening tiger who just kept coming at his cock again and again and was giggling maniacally now . . .

 

Finally, after thrashing back and forth frantically for several dreamish minutes, Brian managed to get one arm free from the ropes that had him tied down to the table in the middle of the circus tent. He tried to bat the tiger kitten’s head away from his sensitive parts, but the kitty growled at him. Before Brian could do anything, his hand was pushed away again and he was being devoured once more.

 

The voracious little tiger kitten proceeded to clasp his eager lips around Brian's throbbing cock while the wicked little tongue twirled and glided around the head and shaft and the mouth sucked at him hungrily.  

 

In his dream, Brian tried to hold back but then couldn’t take it any more. Grabbing ahold of the tiger kitten’s lush golden mane with his free hand, he gave a shout as his dick released it’s thick white nectar down the tiger kitten’s throat. It was at that point that Brian realized all of this felt far too real to be a dream. His eyes popped opened wide. This wasn’t a dream - it was better. He found himself lying naked on the RV’s bed with a very self-satisfied azure-eyed Justin Kitten kneeling between his thighs and licking a dollop of cock cream from his lips while the boy continued to contemplate Brian’s spit-glistened dick. Brian’s one hand was still fisted in the blond tresses and his other arm and both legs were snaggled in the tangled up sheets so tightly that he couldn’t move them any more than he had been able to in his dreams.

 

“Damn, Sunshine! I take it you really liked those videos you watched yesterday . . . not that I’m complaining mind you.” Of course Brian wasn’t going to complain about getting the best damn wake up call he’d ever had - hands down - even though he was amazed at how much of a natural his shy boy turned out to be.

 

“Did I do that right?” the now bashful Sunshine Cat asked.

 

“You did it more than right, Justin. It was damn near perfection.” Brian reassured the little neophyte while he continued to pet the golden mane.

 

“Oh, good. The stuff I read on the computer called that a ‘Blow Job’. I really want to get good at all kinds of jobs, you know. But I’m not sure why it’s call a BLOW job, because, as far as I could tell from the instructions on the computer, I think I was supposed to suck not blow. Shouldn’t it be called a ‘Suck Job’? Or was I actually supposed to blow, too? That was a little confusing.” Brian was torn between laughing at the oddball questions of the boy and kissing him for all of his ingenuous enthusiasm, but settled on only freeing his other arm so he could pull Justin close and wrap him up in a tight embrace.

 

“It’s called ‘Blow Job’, because if you do it right, you make the guy you’re sucking blow his wad,” Brian explained with an indulgent grin. “Or, at least that’s what I always thought. But you’re right  - the name is a bit confusing. Either way, though, you did great, Sunshine. And I have to say that I’m rather proud of you for even trying. From what you’ve told me so far, I doubt your mother would have approved. But it’s good that you’re going after what YOU want instead of simply taking your mother’s word as gospel all the time. It’s good to try new things and spread your wings a little, Sunshine.”

 

Justin both beamed and blushed at the praise as he turned to partially hide his face in Brian’s chest. Up until just four days ago, his whole life had been governed by his mother’s decrees - whether they were stringent rules or mere whims - and his whole world had been bounded by the confining walls of their home. Justin hadn’t realized how much life he had missed out on. But now that he’d caught a glimpse of what else was out there, he was so thirsty to try it all. And the fact that Brian was proud of him for taking the initiative meant more to him than anything else.

 

“Now, my little naughty kitty, I think it’s time for a shower.”

 

“But, don’t you want to eat breakfast first, Brian?” Justin protested

 

“I’m not particularly hungry . . . for food that is. But if you were to join me in the shower, my appetite could be satisfied all the same,” Brian replied with a waggle of his brow and a lusty grin that even a relative innocent like Justin apparently understood.

 

“But my mother said . . . Oh, right. We’re not listening to what my mother said about boyfriends anymore, are we?”

 

“Not in the slightest, Sunshine . . . not in the slightest.“

 

“Well, just as long as you’re sure nobody’s going to get pregnant, because my mother seemed to think that would be a very bad thing . . . although, now that I think about it, she never really did explain why that was so bad, either. She did tell me all the time, though, that she wished I’d never been born . . .” Justin’s voice faded out at the end and Brian’s heart did a little fluttery thing that was very uncomfortable.

 

Instead of letting himself think about Justin’s words or that fluttery thing, however, Brian decided to distract them both. And the best way to do that was to simply hurry his delectable little morsel into the shower, where Brian had some definite plans on how to further the tyro’s education about exactly what boyfriends were allowed to do. Fuck Justin’s mother and all her psycho babbling. Damn her for messing with his Sunshine’s head and filling him with so much fear and self-doubt. It was time to show his boy that the real world - while it WAS often scary and could be dangerous - also held pleasures that he’d never even dreamed of.

 

So, without saying anything further, Brian bustled his blond out of the bedroom and off to the very compact bathroom area. The shower in the RV wasn’t exactly large, but Brian thought that if they didn’t mind being pressed tightly together they could still work things to a satisfactory conclusion. At first, Justin - the intrepid soul who’d just given his first blow job without any qualms whatsoever - seemed a bit embarrassed at the idea of getting into the shower with Brian. The kid was just such a contradiction and always left Brian guessing. But Brian bent and kissed those bubblegum pink lips and hoped that with it he was kissing away any lingering trepidation.

 

 

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After that the blond seemed much more tractable. He let Brian guide him into the shower enclosure, leaning as far as he could to one side so that Brian would have enough room to get in himself. Once they were arranged and had managed to get the door closed, Brian started the water, shielding the nozzle with his hand until it heated up sufficiently. Then, with gentle, massaging hands, Brian soaped up the boy, paying special attention to the rather generous cock the boy sported. All this soapy attention made his little blond tiger kitten purr in libidinous pleasure.

 

Once his dirty little kitten was rinsed clean all the way down to his toes, Brian kissed his way back up Justin’s inner thigh until his nose nudged against the boy’s plump balls, causing Justin to gasp at the unexpected touch and tense up again. Brian took his time caressing and kissing the lean thighs for several minutes until he felt the boy relaxing again. He then turned his head and very deliberately kissed and licked the soft skin of the boy’s sack. This time the boy’s gasps of surprise were accompanied by a moan of pleasure. Accepting this as tacit permission to continue, Brian worked his way up to the spongy pink tip of Justin’s very impressive cock. Slipping his lips over the flaring head, Brian took in the boy’s generous endowment clear down to the root, his nose pressing into the boy’s pubes that now smelled like the sandalwood patchouli soap they’d found in the RV shower. Justin let out a little squawk at the unexpected new sensation and then Brian could feel him melting into his touch as the brunet’s ministrations continued.

 

While Brian’s left hand was holding Justin’s butt cheek to keep him in position, Brian’s other hand had worked its way to the boy’s perineum, gently massaging along the exterior of the prostate and then inching slowly backwards. Eventually, one adventurous finger located the tiny pink pucker nestled between the luscious globes. Brian ran the pad of his middle finger along the wrinkled folds of skin in soft circles. He could feel the muscles slowly relax and give a little as he tapped out a sensuous staccato on that virgin opening. The accompanying soft moans pouring out of Justin’s beautiful mouth were the most intoxicating thing Brian had ever heard. His own cock was at full mast again just from those sounds - no touching required!

 

“Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh . . . Just . . . Just Brian . . . OH MY!” Justin’s vocabulary seemed to have vanished along with most of his inhibitions.

 

“You like that, huh?” Brian inferred, letting Justin’s cock slip from his mouth momentarily and causing the blond to whimper in protest.

 

With a quiet chuckle, Brian returned to his work, taking Justin all the way in again. Justin sighed appreciatively. Brian promptly resumed his sensual ministrations to Justin’s turgid cock. Brian could tell by the way Justin’s dick was throbbing and jumping in his mouth that his lad was almost ready to cum. At just the right moment, Brian pushed the tip of his middle finger - the one that had been busily tapping on the relaxed and ready pucker - just the slightest bit inside, which immediately elicited a scream of surprised pleasure from his horny sex kitten as Justin precipitately unloaded several spurts of his sweet cum down Brian’s welcoming throat.

 

“Wow . . . that was incredible, Brian. My mother must have been either stupid or even crazier than everyone thought for thinking that there was ANYTHING bad about that.”

 

“It was truly my pleasure, Justin,” Brian chuckled superciliously. “Although I doubt your mother ever had a Brian Kinney blow job, so I guess it’s understandable.”

 

“You know what, Brian, fuck my mother. It seems that she was pretty much clueless about EVERYTHING!”

 

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Brian managed to get the RV unhooked in a much shorter time than it had taken to hook it all up the evening before. Justin wasn’t even done stowing away all the breakfast dishes before Brian was settling himself into the driver’s seat and looking over all the dials and such in preparation for getting back on the road. After that call from Ted the evening before, Brian thought it would be prudent to haul ass back to Pittsburgh as fast as this motel on wheels could go. Although Brian didn’t have a clue what he would do once they got back there and the thought of sending Justin back to that hospital made him a little uneasy. But what else was Brian supposed to do?

 

As soon as Justin was ready - and had taken two minutes to run next door and say a quick goodbye to Hank and Mabel - Brian ordered the boy strapped into his seat and they were pulling out of the RV park. Justin was gushing about how fun it had been to stay at the park and meet all the nice neighbors. He had the bag of chocolate chip cookies that Mabel had apparently gotten up early to bake just for him sitting right next to his chair so he could nibble on them as they drove. And he was already busy at the Devil’s Box - which, he explained, was what his mother called both the television and any type of computer, and probably the reason they’d never been allowed a computer in their house - researching where he wanted to go for his one allowed field trip for the day. Brian had never met ANYONE with even a tenth of the enthusiasm of this kid. He was just so damn excited about everything, it was fucking endearing - a term which Brian found himself thinking despite the overtly lesbionic connotations of that word. And all of a sudden their end destination seemed far too close for Brian’s liking, even though they were still several hundreds of miles away.

 

They’d barely pulled out of the town of Twin Falls, though, before Justin announced he’d found his outing for the day and Brian was immediately forced to dial back his plans to make a few extra miles. Justin’s time with the Devil’s Box had turned up a fabulous attraction just a few miles to the east of the RV park where they’d spent the night - Shoshone Falls. Justin begged prettily and, before he knew it, Brian was driving towards the huge waterfall on the Snake River that, according to Justin’s research, was known as the Niagra Falls of the West. At sixty-five meters, it was actually taller than Niagra and spanned over three hundred meters across the width of the river. At the height of it’s spring flow, this waterfall boasted a flow rate of over one hundred cubic meters of water a second. Justin spouted all these facts proudly as Brian drove the short distance to the small park where they left the RV so that they could do the quick loop hike out to the overlook viewing spot.

 

 

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Brian actually got the boy to put on a pair of shoes for the hike down to see the falls since the trail was made from the local stone - a crushed amalgamation of basalt and other volcanic rock that had lots of sharp little pieces and would likely cut up the kid’s feet. The land around the falls seemed barren to Brian. There wasn’t much vegetation, just a few trees and shrubs, and the soil was sandy or rocky in turns. It was already shaping up to be a rather warm day and even though the hike was short, Brian loudly regretted the fact that they hadn’t brought along a water bottle. This discussion brought to Justin’s mind the factoid that, while travelling along this relatively barren and hot stretch of the Snake River where game was scarce, the emigrants would routinely come down to Shoshone falls in order to refill water casks and trade with the native peoples for fish. Since the falls acted as a natural barrier to all fish migration further upriver, this was one of the prime fishing spots for the local Shoshone, who caught enormous quantities of salmon and sturgeon here and were happy to trade with the pioneers.

 

When they made it to the overlook, both Brian and Justin were awed by the power of the huge thundering falls, which were almost deafening even from the distance and relative safety of the observation platform on the cliffside. And, while the surrounding land was desolate, the falls and the cliffs around them were absolutely majestic. It was a striking sight. Even Brian had to admit it had been worth the stop and the short hike to see this particular wonder of nature . . . even if he was feeling overly touristy. But, since Justin was gushing over the experience and thanking Brian repeatedly every other sentence for taking him there, Brian didn’t feel too bad about wasting just a little more time before heading home.

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The drive through the rest of Idaho and the panhandle of Utah was fairly uneventful. The landscape throughout most of southern Idaho consisted mostly of low, rolling, rockstrewn hills covered with sagebrush and not much else. Then the road turned southward and they cut through the hills, eventually dropping down into the basin of the Great Salt Lake. The closer they got to Salt Lake City, the more varied the scenery around them became. On their left side, the huge range of the Wasatch mountains sprang up out of the flat plains at their feet and towered over the land below. The forbidding, almost vertical-looking hills were almost as barren as the land they’d just left up in Idaho but the rocks themselves were amazingly colored - red and pink and dark black and a few were still topped with snow even though it was early summer.

 

 

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Meanwhile, on the right side of the RV, they started to see hundreds of interconnected lakes and wetlands - some with a crust of white around the edges where the salty water had evaporated away enough to leave a sheen of pure salt - all of which were simply teeming with every single kind of bird imaginable. Justin was raving about every bird he saw. Brian was so startled a couple of times by his boisterous blond’s exclamations that he almost ran them off the road. Even while driving, though, Brian could see the little lakes and ponds teeming with birds. There was one pond full of these grey and white birds with such long legs they looked like they were on stilts. Another pond had islands of huge white birds that Justin claimed were pelicans - although Brian highly doubted that since pelicans were ocean birds, right? Then, a few minutes later, just as Brian was starting to relax again, they were both startled when a huge flock of pink and black birds almost dive bombed the RV as they swooped across the highway.


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“Pink birds?” Brian knew he hadn’t been drinking yet that day, so he wasn’t sure why he was seeing anything pink flying across his field of vision.

 

“They’re FLAMINGOS! Flamingos, Brian! Flamingos! Isn’t that the coolest thing ever!” The boy was already clicking away at some bird-watching site on the computer which confirmed that, yes indeed, the Great Salt Lake was home to both flamingos and pelicans - both of which species migrated in during the warmer months in order to enjoy the salty waters of the lakes hereabouts along with some other species that were more commonly thought of as ocean birds.

 

After a little bit of prodding, Brian was induced to pull the RV over into a small roadside pullout so that Justin could hop out and ogle the birds for a few minutes. Brian joined him, although he tried to pretend that he wasn’t all that interested in a bunch of feathery dust catchers. The swarming multitudes of different, brightly colored and very raucous birds were mesmerizing though.

 

“Wouldn’t it be fabulous to be a Pink Flamingo? I love their bright pink feathers and long necks! And I could eat all the shrimp I wanted because that’s all they eat. That’s why they’re pink, you know,” Justin expostulated gleefully. "Or maybe being a Pelican would be better . . . then I could swallow my food whole!"

 

Brian flinched and unconsciously put a hand on his denim clad cock following Justin’s Pelican statement because - OUCH.

 

“Justin, being any kind of bird would not be conducive to giving blow jobs. Really, no beak is getting anywhere near my dick.” Brian stated frankly, enjoying the way the kid’s blush turned his face almost as pink as those crazy birds’ feathers.

 

Justin continued to laugh after they got back into the RV and he took up his position in the Captain’s chair. But because he just couldn’t get over the idea of being a flamingo - and because he’d just happened to find several bottles of nail polish in the RV’s medicine cabinet that morning - he proceeded to paint his toes flamingo pink and then embellished them with a white hibiscus design. Brian thought about objecting, but then decided not to bother, especially since it seemed to keep the kid happy and quiet for the next fifty miles or so while he worked to maneuver the enormous RV through the traffic of downtown Salt Lake City.

 

 

Thankfully, with Justin and the GPS as his guides, Brian managed the interchange and veered  off I-84 and onto I-80 heading towards all points east. They stopped for gas at the last truck stop before leaving Salt Lake City proper. Brian wasn’t happy at how much of his meager remaining cash got sucked into that seemingly bottomless gas tank, but that was the way things went. Brian chalked it up to necessity and soldiered on down the winding highway.

 

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End Notes:

11/18/15 - Did you like? Justin's getting so adventurous! And so is Brian! Who knows where their RV will take them next? Off to think up new adventures. J.S.T.

PS. THIS CHAPTER PUTS US OVER OUR NANOWRIMO GOAL OF 50,000 WORDS! GO US! YAY!

Chapter 14 - On a Plain by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian and Justin take on the great state of Wyoming . . . Enjoy! J.S.T.

*****Chapter dedicated to Lorie & Lightning - Thanks for the tips on pet skunk etiquette!*****

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Chapter 14 - On a Plain

 

The rest of Monday afternoon was spent zooming along the interstate through southern Wyoming. Brian was thankful that the speed limit through this stretch was 85 mph, since there was absolutely nothing to look at outside except piles of rocks and the faster they got through this bareness the better. They’d taken a short break at a rest stop just outside of Salt Lake City where Brian had stretched his legs and Justin had made them both sandwiches. Thank the RV gods that the kitchen had come fully stocked, because Brian was already getting nervous about whether or not they’d make it all the way back to the Pitts before his money ran out. Then it was back in the RV and back on the long, long, endlessly long road.

 

Justin had long since finished with his toenails and spent most of the rest of the afternoon either drawing in the ubiquitous sketchbook or reading a pulp novel he’d unearthed in one the of RVs many cupboards. Brian enjoyed the quiet for a while, but eventually even he - loner that he was - felt like the silence was too heavy. This unprecedented situation - this enforced long term intimacy with another guy - was wreaking havoc on Brian’s usual stoicism. He found himself actually WANTING to talk. Of course, he had absolutely no experience with initiating genial conversation unless it was something to do with his work or the juvenile stuff he usually found himself discussing with Michael and his other friends. So it took him a while to find a suitable topic of conversation.

 

Looking over at Justin once again, Brian noted that the kid was already more than two-thirds done with the novel that he’d just picked up an hour or so before. “You sure do read fast, Sunshine,” he commented. “So, if you never left your house, how did you learn to read and other stuff?”

 

“My mother taught me,” Justin answered, laying aside his book and smiling openly over at Brian. “She taught me lots of stuff - reading, math, geography, and other stuff,” Justin shrugged. “She liked to play word games too, so we did that a lot. She loved Scrabble. We played Scrabble just about every day . . . Of course, you HAD to let her win. ALWAYS. Or else she got . . . weird . . .” Justin’s gaze drifted off out the window as he was remembering something that Brian thought he probably didn’t want to know about. “We didn’t have a lot of books, though, and it got pretty boring reading the same books over and over and over. When I was little my mother used to go out of the house more often and I remember that sometimes she would go to the library and bring home picture books and even chapter books for me to read. That was nice. But she didn’t go out much after I got to be about ten. We did have an old set of encyclopedias from the 1950’s though. I read those a lot. And I got to watch the Devil’s Box sometimes, when my mother was feeling indulgent.”

 

“And here I thought I had it bad,” Brian muttered, thinking about what this kid had experienced in his nineteen years of being held captive in some tiny house. Then Brian added, aloud, “I used to practically live in the library. My folks weren’t much for books, so we didn’t have many either. But I would hit the library just about daily when I was a kid. It was about the only safe, warm place I could go when I needed to get away from my bitch of a mother or my bastard of a dad.”

 

From there the conversation flowed much more freely. All through the rest of the afternoon’s drive, Brian and Justin talked. They shared stories about their lives. Brian even found himself telling this kid who was practically a stranger some of the horrors of his own youth - things he’d never told anyone, not even Michael or Debbie. Eventually they moved on to talking about Brian’s hopes of starting his own ad agency and he even opened up about the problems he’d had so far with that, as well as his fears of failure. Justin shared a little about himself and his childhood, but his stories were limited just like his life had been. And Justin had no plans for his own future - he’d never been encouraged to have any by his controlling mother - but while talking with Brian, he started to think about things a little more. Maybe he could actually have a plan now? And even though the very concept of some nebulous future out here in the real world threatened to cause an upsurge of panic, the tendrils of that novel idea started to take root in Justin’s mind.

 

As the day started to wind down, Brian felt himself getting tired. It didn’t make much sense since all he’d done all day was sit in a chair and drive, but he was more exhausted than he would have expected. So much for his idea to get a move on. And they were still only about halfway across Wyoming. It seemed that this fucking state just went on and on, though. Unless he was prepared to drive through the night again, it didn’t look like they’d make it out of Wyoming today. He figured that they might as well find a place to hunker down for the night and then get a fresh start bright and early the next morning. Brian put his little blond navigator on the case and in no time the kid had found another RV park about twenty-five miles down the road in the town of Rawlins.

 

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Right afterwards, the RV drove past a large sign off the side of the highway announcing that they were now passing over the Continental Divide. Justin, with input from his Devil’s Box, quickly started spouting all sorts of facts about the Continental Divide. And normally Brian would have let the kid go on with his little PSA. Unfortunately, Brian had his own PSA to impart this time so he interrupted Justin’s prattling.

 

“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian’s tone as much as his words probably helped get Justin’s attention. “You can tell me more about the Continental Divide later, okay. But, before we stop for the night, we need to discuss how we’re going to work things at this place.” Brian fumbled a little, not knowing exactly how to explain what he was worried about without scaring the shit out of the kid. In the end though, there wasn’t any easy way to approach the conversation Brian knew had to happen. “I don’t want you to get too freaked out, Sunshine, but I do need to warn you a little bit about how we should act around people here in the boonies of Wyoming. See, Wyoming isn’t well known for being either tolerant or accepting of people like us. Wyoming’s one of those places where the saying, ‘Where Men are Men and the Sheep are Afraid’, isn’t just a joke. So we need to be careful about how we act while we’re here.”

 

“People like us?” Justin asked, clearly confused. “What do you mean? People with scary parents? People in RVs? And what do sheep have to do with it, Brian?”

 

“Forget the sheep, Sunshine. What I meant was people who are ‘gay’,” Brian clarified.

 

“Why wouldn’t they be accepting of happy people? That makes no sense, Brian. Why would the state of Wyoming not want happy people to come here?”

 

“Not ‘gay’ as in happy, Justin. I meant ‘gay’ as in homosexual . . . As in men who find other men attractive. You know, like in the book I had you read yesterday - The Joys of Gay Sex. That kind of ‘gay’.” Brian tried to explain even though that look of confusion remained fixed on the young blond’s face.

 

“Oh. Well, they did all look very happy in those pictures. I just thought that’s why the book was called that,” Justin seemed completely unfazed by the concept of ‘gay’.

 

“Justin, ‘gay’ is a term used to describe people who find others of their same gender sexually attractive. Primarily, men who like men. Men like me . . . and I assume like you too since you seem to find me, at least, attractive. That’s what I mean when I use the word ‘gay’,” Brian explained further. “Unfortunately, there’s a lot of people out there who don’t approve of the idea of two men being together. And a LOT of those kinds of people seem to live here in Wyoming. So, while we’re here we just need to be a little more careful. You don’t want to be blurting out that we’re boyfriends.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense, Brian,” Justin seemed disposed to argue the point. “Why would anyone else care that we like each other? None of the people back in Portland seemed to care that I was your boyfriend. And Hank and Mabel didn’t care - or the rest of our Idaho neighbors. So, why would Wyoming people care? Anyway, what do you mean by ‘we need to be careful’?”

 

“Well, the Dennison’s were very accepting, Justin, and their son Marvin is gay too, so they’re used to the idea. I was actually surprised that Hank, Mabel and the rest of those folks in Idaho were so welcoming - I hadn’t expected that since Idaho and Utah are so predominantly Mormon and that usually means anti-gay. But I doubt we’ll have the same luck here in Wyoming. Shit, it’s been less than twenty years since a couple of homophobic fuckers here in Wyoming tortured and killed a kid named Matthew Shepard just for being gay. So, while we’re here, we’re going to be careful, even if I am probably being overcautious. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Brian caught a glimpse of Justin’s face as he mentioned the Shepard thing and didn’t like the fear that he was seeing, but knew that the far-too-trusting boy needed the warning nonetheless, so he simply forged on.

 

“You see, Justin, there’s a lot of people out there who don’t think two men should be together. They think being ‘gay’ is wrong,” Brian tried to explain something that even he didn’t always understand. “They think that sex should ONLY be between a man and a woman. Mostly, I think they’re just scared because they don’t understand. They might claim it’s because their religion says being gay is evil or bad, but I think they just don’t like us because they can’t deal with anyone who’s different. Or they think that because we’re gay we’ll attack them and try to force them all into anal sex or something. Stupid fuckers!” Brian found himself getting angry and had to force himself to calm down enough so that he wouldn’t scare Justin.

 

“I guess I never really thought about it before,” Justin seemed contemplative. “All the books and television shows my mother let me watch always had just a boy and a girl together. But then, when we were on the airplane together and you called me your boyfriend, I just assumed that it was okay. I mean, I don’t know much about stuff like that,” Justin blushed again prettily before continuing with his revelations. “But, I DO like you, Brian. A LOT. And it doesn’t feel bad or wrong to kiss you or . . . or the other stuff we do together. It feels really nice. So, I don’t understand why anyone else would think it was wrong. Maybe, like my mother, they just don’t know how nice it feels? Do you think they know about that book, the Joys of Gay Sex? If they all read that, and saw how much fun it all looked like, maybe they wouldn’t be so scared anymore.”

 

“I DON’T think that would work, Sunshine,” Brian chuckled at the idea of mounting a Nationwide gay sex education initiative. “But, whatever, the bottom line is that they don’t like us and there’s a significant number of these homophobes who are downright nasty about it. Even violent sometimes. And I don’t want you to get hurt, which is why we need to be careful.” Brian saw the sign indicating they were nearing the turn off for Rawlins and decided it was time to wrap up this conversation for the time being. “You’ll have to trust me on this. I just want us both to be safe. So, while we’re here, we can’t kiss or hold hands in public. And you probably need to watch what you say a little more than usual. For instance, you shouldn’t call me your boyfriend. Okay?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. But it sounds to me like more pretending, and we already know I’m not very good at pretending,” Justin was chewing on his lip worriedly.

 

“You’ll be fine, Sunshine. I’m sure we’ll both be fine . . .”

 

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The RV park in Rawlins wasn’t much to look at. It was even bleaker than the one in Twin Falls. Basically, it was just a flat gravel parking lot right off the interstate with power and water hook ups and picnic tables separating the various rigs parked there. Luckily, Brian managed to secure a slot off to the side of the main park area with a tiny bit of grass under the picnic table even. There weren’t a lot of RVs in the campground this evening so they were able to spread out just enough to feel like they had a little privacy, but it wasn’t much.

 

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Brian had made Justin stay inside the RV while he was signing them into the campground. He still wasn’t sure the younger man would be able to maintain a low profile while they were there. He realized he was probably just being paranoid, but Brian wasn’t taking any chances.

 

While Brian was setting up the RV connections, Justin grabbed a box of Lucky Charms from the RV’s pantry to snack on. The boy sat down at the nearby picnic table, snacking on his oats and marshmallow bits while watching Mr. Manly showing off how, after two whole days of doing the RV thing, he was now a complete and total expert. Of course, the connections weren’t exactly the same as they’d been back in Idaho, so Brian was still scratching his head, muttering to himself and looking at the hook up box ten minutes later. In the meantime, something furry scampering around in the small patch of grass under the wooden table caught Justin’s attention.  

 

Putting down the cereal box on the bench beside him, Justin bent over the bench seat to get a better look. At first, it appeared to be a kitten. He reached out his hand and the little thing came over for a sniff. Justin promptly scooped up the bundle of black and white fluff and brought it out from under the table. He soon realized his mistake when he got a closer look at the black fur with the distinctive white stripes. This wasn’t a lost kitten but a baby skunk. He recalled seeing skunks on a show he’d watched on Animal Planet. This one didn’t look all that scary, though. Holding it in the palm of his hand, Justin petted the little critter with the index finger of his other hand.

 

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Luckily the baby skunk seemed to be unconcerned about being handled by the human and was enjoying the attention. Justin reached into the box of Lucky Charms and offered one of the marshmallow bits to the fuzzy baby in his hand. The little guy gave it a sniff and immediately began nibbling on it hungrily.  

 

As Justin continued feeding his foundling skunk, he noticed some additional movement in his peripheral vision. The boy turned toward the source of the movement and there was the mother skunk waddling her way over with the rest of her kits in tow, heading straight towards where Justin was sitting.   

 

 

With a huge welcoming smile, Justin slowly made his way down to the ground to sit cross legged, bringing the box of cereal along with him. He reached into the box and pulled out a handful, extending his arm to the mamma and her brood, all the while showing that the young one he had in his hand was safe and had actually curled up and fallen asleep after its snack. Mamma was receptive - she eagerly sniffed at the offering and began snacking too. This appeared to be the signal for the babies to join in. Justin slowly lowered his hand and placed the cereal and marshmallows on the ground. The skunks seemed to really enjoy the marshmallow bits the most and those were eaten quickly before they moved on to the cereal pieces.

 

 

As the babies each had their fill, they toddled their way over to Justin. Some scampered their way into his lap and some curled up against his legs. Justin was tickled pink that these little babies trusted him so much - not to mention the mom not feeling threatened by his presence. He was pretty sure that the Animal Planet show had said that skunks could get really stinky, but these little guys didn’t seem too threatening. Not long after that, the mamma skunk finished eating and made her way closer to Justin as well. Justin had another handful of cereal ready in case she wanted more. He placed this pile closer to his leg, hoping that he would gain more of her trust and be able to pet her, too.  

 

Eventually, the mamma came closer and Justin got his wish. He showed the mamma skunk the little guy he still had sleeping in his hand. She gave it a sniff, seemed to be satisfied with what she saw and checked on her other little ones that were resting nearby before settling down herself.

 

By this time, Brian had finally finished his manly RV tasks. He turned around, looking for Justin, and was instantly alarmed at what he saw - Justin was surrounded by skunks! He was about to shout and storm the group in an attempt to save the boy, but then he noticed that they all seemed rather happy together, so he paused. Then Brian glimpsed the box of Lucky Charms sitting in the grass next to the boy’s feet and correctly surmised that both the skunks and the boy were happily fed. Apparently even smelly wild animals could sense the innate goodness and kindness in this boy. Only Justin could have accomplished something this incredible.

 

Deciding to remain where he stood - hopefully far enough away from any potentially stinky creatures that he wouldn’t get sprayed even if they changed their minds about being calm and friendly - Brian took out his phone and snapped some pictures. The boy was glowing with happiness. Brian thought the skunks were too. That was just too weird. But, also, too Justin.

 

“Justin . . .” Brian said quietly, trying to get the kid’s attention. “You DO know those are skunks, right?”

 

Justin glanced over at Brian, his face shining with delight and gave Brian a nod of his head in the affirmative. “Yeah, and they're so nice and sweet. They even like to cuddle.” Justin beamed, his voice tinged with something akin to pride. “Maybe we can we take one of them home with us? I'm sure that I could take care of it. All I’d need is a box of Lucky Charms,” implored Justin.

 

Brian looked at Justin in utter disbelief at the suggestion. Pet skunks? What the hell? Surely Justin realized that traveling with a skunk was not a viable option . . .

 

“Sorry, Justin, but we can NOT take one of the babies. The mother skunk would probably be sad if one of her babies went missing. Not only that, but not all states will allow a wild animal like a skunk as a pet. And let’s not forget about the stink factor. Right now they’re all happy and snuggly, but they WILL spray if they feel threatened or scared.” Brian explained his reasoning quietly and calmly so as not to agitate his gentle blond OR the skunks in his care.

 

Though Justin was disappointed, he knew Brian was right. He would feel terrible if he caused the mamma skunk any distress. “I guess you’re right, Brian. I would hate to cause the mom to get all upset. I suppose I’ll just enjoy them while I can.”

 

“How about I take some more pictures so that you can remember them, Justin.” Brian offered, taking out his phone once again and snapping more pictures of the skunk family asnooze on Justin’s lap. “And then you can send them all on their way . . . and take a long shower.”

 

The skunk family snoozed for a while longer but eventually woke up. Justin gave them all some love and attention along with some more Lucky Charms and some water poured in the cup of his hand from a bottle Brian rolled to him. Once satisfied, the mamma skunk corralled all her kits and they toddled back to where they came from. Justin sat there watching them go as Brian took more pictures to commemorate the event.

 

“Come on, Justin. It’s shower time!” Brian held out his hand to help Justin up, giving the boy’s arm an extra little playful tug so that he almost fell into Brian’s chest. They both laughed and Justin beamed up at Brian with one of his extra-sunshiney smiles.

 

“Well now, I figgered I’d seen just about everythin’ in my day, but I ain’t never seen nobody charm a damned skunk before,” stated a loud male voice from a few meters away off behind Brian’s back. Brian quickly dropped Justin’s hand, took a step back away from the younger man and turned around slowly to confront their new guest. “So, I guess you two ain’t from around these parts, are you? If you were, you’d as soon a shot them fucking stink bombs as made friends with ‘em. That particular little mamma skunk’s been giving me no end of trouble around here, what with spraying the campers’ dogs and raiding my garbage. But you just waltzed right in here and got ‘em tamed in no time. That’s definitely a first for me.”

 

“Well, that’s Justin for you. He seems to make friends pretty much wherever we go,” Brian replied cautiously, at the same time moving so that he was between Justin and this hick.

 

“Name’s DeSylvio,” the man said, holding out his hand towards Brian as he approached. “I’m the owner of this place.”

 

Brian accepted the proffered hand and shook it, making sure to exert a firm grip as he gauged the man’s threat level. The man was older - probably in his fifties or so - and at least six inches shorter than Brian but stocky. He probably outweighed Brian by a good fifty pounds, although it was mostly flab not muscle. The man’s skin was a dark sun-burned brown and looked like it was as tough as leather. His thinning salt and pepper hair was cropped short but neatly trimmed. The man’s clothing was rugged too, although it looked like it was at least decent quality. From what Brian could see, DeSylvio was probably what would pass for prosperous out here in the wilds of Wyoming.

 

“Well, since you boys seem to have at least shooed off my skunk problem for the rest of the evening without anyone getting sprayed, I guess I owe you one,” DeSylvio reached into the back pocket of his well-worn pair of jeans, pulled out his wallet and extracted two business cards. “Here you go. Give those to the manager and he’ll set you two up with passes for the miniature golf course and a free hour with the pedal bikes. My compliments.” Brian accepted the gift with a nod and then handed them off to the little blond who was now bouncing on his toes with anticipation at the idea of having even more fun with Brian.

 

“Thanks. That ought to keep Justin busy and out of trouble for at least a little while,” Brian replied with a sideways glance to calm the boisterous bouncing boy.

 

“No problem. Enjoy yourselves,” DeSylvio took a step away from them but then turned back with one final word. “Just a word of caution though . . . I’m more of the ‘Don’t ask, Don’t tell’ sort myself, but there’s a couple of the residents here who might not be such forward thinkers, if you get my drift. If I was you two boys, I’d steer clear of Buster and Cletus Wheeling - they got their rig set up aways down at the far end of Row B. Just so’s you know . . .” Then he turned and sauntered away without another glance back.

 

“Shit!” Brian muttered under his breath, reaching up to rub at his neck, which was still a bit stiff from his day of driving and was now feeling even tighter due to the additional stress of meeting their campground’s host.

 

“Brian? Is that one of those people who don’t want us to be happy?” Justin asked as he peeked around Brian’s shoulder and watched DeSylvio walking away.

 

“Actually, HE was probably one of the better ones around here. But, like I said before, we should definitely be careful.”

 

“Does that mean we can’t play small golf or ride bikes? Cause that would make me even more happy and since they don’t want us to be happy here in Wyoming . . .”

 

“They don’t mind you being happy, Sunshine, as long as you’re not so happy that you’re ‘gay’,” Brian clarified as he led the younger man back to their RV for that shower and some dinner before heading off to the miniature golf course for Justin’s happy but not gay entertainment.

 

By the time they actually made it to the RV Park’s little putt-putt golf course, the sun was setting and dusk was coming on. Justin had been so excited by the idea of ‘small golf’ that he barely made it through dinner. Brian himself was groaning at the idea of having to do something as tacky as putt-putt golf, but he didn’t like leaving the boy alone in this environment. So, if the kid wanted to putt-putt, Brian was resigned to putt-putt too.

 

 

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The tiny little putt-putt course set up near the front of the campground area wasn’t very impressive - it was only eight holes and not very creative, but it WAS apparently the only entertainment around. There were a few other RV Park denizens playing already and even one or two Rawlins natives. Brian and Justin joined the parade of golfers and waited their turn whenever there was a bit of traffic on the course. Since he hadn’t wanted to wait long enough to eat dessert, Justin had brought along the remains of his bag full of chocolate chip cookies from Idaho. In between holes or when they were forced to take a break until the groups playing ahead of them moved on, Justin would seat himself on the railing that surrounded the course and munch on a cookie. It was all so fucking domesticated and small-town America that Brian felt like bolting from the poor excuse of a course in the shortest order possible, but he didn’t say anything since he didn’t want to ruin Justin’s fun or offend the locals.

 

By the time they were nearing the last few holes, it was getting rather dark and Brian and Justin were pretty much the only players left. Brian was busy looking over a particularly crooked bank shot for the next hole while Justin was sitting and nibbling on his fifth or sixth cookie when the boy’s excited squeak distracted the putter. Brian looked over his shoulder and saw Justin’s little black and white friends from earlier coming back down the nearby trail and heading straight for the kid with the cookies.

 

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“Look, Just Brian! My friends are back! Good thing I still have a few cookies left,” Justin plopped his butt down in the dirt and crumbled up a handful of cookies, depositing the results in several little piles on the ground around him. “Aren’t they sweet! I don’t know why that unhappy man who owns this place doesn’t like them. Mamma Skunk seems very nice to me.”

 

“Yeah, well, that’s probably because you’re the only one around here not trying to shoot her,” Brian offered as he took his next swing and expertly potted the ball with only the one stroke.

 

“Well, I’d spray him with stink too if he tried to shoot at me,” Justin asserted as he backed away from the supping skunks in order to take his turn on the course.

 

Justin didn’t have Brian’s years of experience playing pool to help him line up his golf shots so he wasn’t coming even close to matching Brian’s three below par score. This was frustrating the younger man a bit and he was trying to emulate Brian as best he could. When he couldn’t figure out the last hole though, Brian relented and came over to help. Standing behind Justin, with his hands covering the youngster’s, he explained the angles, force and timing needed to get the ball through the spinning windmill that would mark the end of the game. Justin listened carefully, lined up his shot and then let Brian guide him through the swing . . . And he sunk the ball with only one stroke!

 

“I did it! I did it! Did you see that, Just Brian! I did it!” the effervescent blond was bubbling away, jumping up and down for joy and then ended his happy dance by bouncing himself right into Brian’s arms.

 

“Lookie here, Buster. I think we found us a couple of uphill gardening, shirt lifting, faggoty golfers.” A nasally twanging voice came out of the gloom from over near the little shed where the golfing equipment was stored and startled Brian and Justin.

 

“Stay behind me, Justin,” Brian ordered in a whisper as he moved deliberately around so that he was sheltering the younger man from whomever was speaking.

 

“I think you’re right, Cletus. I think we got us a pair of certified big city homo-sexuals here. They probably didn’t get the memo that we don’t take to their kind here abouts. But now that they know, I’m sure they won’t mind us escorting them out of town, directly. So, what do you say, fellas? You gonna move along nice and quiet like or are we gonna get to have a little fun here first?”

 

“Last I heard, boys, Mother Nature owned this glorious place, not you two redneck breeders,” Brian snarked back at the two hulking menaces that were just now walking towards them as they edged around the railed off miniature golfing area. Brian raised up the metal putter he’d been using while golfing, hefting it over his shoulder in a threatening stance, before he went on. “So, how about you two just go back to fucking your sisters or cousins or whoever and we’ll just mind our own business and be out of your god forsaken state soon enough.”

 

“Ooooo! This one’s uppity, Buster! I think he needs to be taught some manners,” snarled the first voice again, while the body it went along with paced slowly closer to Brian and Justin’s position.

 

“I think you’re right, Cletus. How ‘bout we wash their dirty faggot mouths out and then show ‘em how we treat butt-fucking, fudge-packing, rump riders here in God’s Country.” The second shadowy figure separated from the first so that he was now coming up at an angle on the other side of the set upon pair.

 

“Sunshine,” Brian whispered again, thinking as fast as he could even while he tried to keep both their would-be attackers in his range of vision. “Reach into my right pocket and pull out my phone. Got it?” Brian could feel Justin nodding his head against the sleeve of his shirt. “Good. Now, as soon as they get near enough, I’m going to try my damnedest to take both these fuckers out with this golf club. And in the meantime, as soon as you see me start to swing, I want you to run as fast as you can back to the RV, lock yourself inside and don’t come out for fucking anything. And while you’re there, call the fucking police - not that they’ll be much help in a hick town like this, but we can always dream, right? You understand, Sunshine?”

 

“Yeah . . .” Justin’s voice was small and frightened and Brian hated hearing that tone but figured there wasn’t much he could do about it.

 

“Get ready, Sunshine. Here they come . . .”

 

Brian was ready to come out swinging. He might be outnumbered but he had a solid metal club in his hands so he was confident he could at least do a fair amount of damage to these two. At the very least he hoped to slow them down enough so that Justin could get to safety. That was assuming that Justin didn’t panic and just collapse at their feet, providing the perfect target. But Brian didn’t really have time to worry about that possibility, since the two bruisers were now only about three meters away from them.

 

Which is when first Cletus and then Buster discovered that it pays to have friends no matter where you travel and that sometimes even the smallest friendly gesture can net some big rewards.

 

As Cletus neared the railing that circled the golf course, his big cowboy booted foot happened to stomp on the tail of one of Mamma Skunk’s babies who had previously been scared away from his cookie crumb feast by the yelling man. The little furball had hunkered down behind a clump of grass - the only shelter the baby could find on such short notice - but was separated from his mother and the rest of his siblings. When the heavy tread of the big old redneck landed on his tail, the baby screamed in protest, sounding just like a human baby. The noise scared the piss out of Cletus, who jumped back about two feet . . . right into the path of the angry mother skunk who was on her way to rescue her kit. And, with an almost perfect aim, Mamma Skunk twisted around until her rear was pointing the right direction and shot a stream of skunk spray right into the big bully’s unsuspecting eyes.

 

“FUCK! ARRRRGGGGHHHHH! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” Cletus ran screaming away from the unseen - but definitely smelt - attacker and ran right into the railing, tripping himself and flipping over right onto his face. The impact was enough to knock the oaf out cold.

 

Buster, who, because of the rising darkness, hadn't yet figured out what had caused his brother to bolt, started to run towards the spot where Cletus had fallen. Unfortunately for him, that happened to be right where Mamma Skunk was standing, still holding a defensive stance until she was sure all her babies were safely away. Buster was only a little more than a foot away when Mamma let go with a second blast of oily skunk spray, perfectly directed right up into this second target’s face. And, since Buster wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, the idiot ran the exact same way as his bubba Cletus had, fell over the exact same railing and landed on his head as well.

 

As soon as all the threatening creatures had ceased to struggle, Mamma Skunk raised her snout in the air and trundled off towards the trailhead with an affronted air -  the kits following in her wake.

 

“Well, Justin, it looks like Mamma Skunk told those good-old-boys what was what! Apparently, making friends with the wild life really does have some benefits! I don’t think those two will be bothering us for a while,” was Brian's laughing comment as he and his boyfriend turned on their heels and walked away, leaving the two stinky would-be bullies to the mercy of Mother Nature.

 

 

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End Notes:

11/20/15 - Apologies offered to any readers from Wyoming . . . We didn't mean to single you out, but your state just happened to be on the boys' route home. Now, what mischief can Justin get up to in Nebraska, Iowa or Illinois? We'll see . . . J.S.T.

Chapter 15 - You Know You're Right by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Justin decides to take on the task of teaching Brian how to have fun! You should have fun reading! Enjoy! J.S.T.

 


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Chapter 15 - You Know You’re Right.


“But, Brian, we didn't get to do the pedal bikes yet,” Justin begged again as Brian tried to stay firm about getting on the road early the next morning.

 

“Justin, it already feels like we've been driving for days and we’re still only in fucking Wyoming. At this rate we won't make it back to Pittsburgh until fall. We really need to get going. I have to get back and somehow figure out how to save my ass and my new company from bankruptcy.” Brian tried to explain one last time, apparently to no effect whatsoever judging by the frustrating yet adorable pout on Justin's face.

 

“You promised, Brian. You promised one fun thing a day. And you told me back in Portland that you never make a promise you won't keep,” the sunshiney blond insisted, and since he was right about the promise, Brian groaned but gave in.

 

“Fine! Shit, Justin - you sure are good at arguing. Maybe we should have had you pretend to be a lawyer rather than an artist back in Portland,” Brian grumbled before rolling out of bed and pulling on his jeans from the night before. “You have ONE hour. And then we’re leaving.”

 

“Yay! This will be fun. You'll see Brian. The girl at the office who got us the small golf clubs even told me which trail to go on. The trail goes up over the continental divide again. And the girl said we might see some pronghorn antelope or even elk,” Justin was energetically pulling on his own clothes - some of which he'd appropriated from the stores found in the RV which almost even fit the kid.

 

“So, what's with you and the wildlife, Sunshine,” Brian had to ask. “What are you? The reincarnation of Charles Darwin or something? Are all your adventures now going to involve potentially smelly or dangerous wild animals? Cause if so, I could just leave you out there in the woods with all your new friends.”

 

“I don't know, Brian. I mean, I never got to meet any live animals at all before my mother died. I barely ever even saw any animals because of never leaving the house - except for sometimes when I'd watch the neighbor’s cat through my bedroom window. My mom didn't approve of pets or anything. But I really liked the Skunk family, so I just figured I might like antelope families too,” Justin explained with unarguable Justin logic. “Besides, I never had ANY adventures before I met you. So you're at least partly to blame for how my adventures are turning out. And there weren't any animals at the waterfall in Idaho or the museum in Oregon. ”

 

“That's true. I guess out here in Bum Fucked Egypt, where there's nothing else but wild animals - and dumbass hicks even stupider than the wildlife - we are a bit limited in our adventure potential. Hopefully, once we get back to the realms of civilization, you'll have more options and I'll get to avoid the more furry and/or feathered local wildlife,” Brian conceded, wondering to himself if there was any chance of seeing the type of wild life he was more accustomed to seeing - the kind you would find in the backroom of a gay club.

 

Once they were finally dressed - all except for Justin’s usual lack of shoes - Brian ushered the boy out of the RV and they headed off towards the office together. Despite the fact that they were off on another amusement-filled outing, Justin wasn’t being his typical bouncy self. From the looks of him, the boy was doing some deep thinking. Brian counted down in his head from ten, and just as he got to ‘one’ the boy piped up just as expected.

 

“Brian? What kind of adventures do YOU go on when I’m not around?” Justin asked with his usual quota of curiosity. When Brian just shook his head and looked back at the boy with confusion, Justin elaborated. “You said that all MY adventures seem to involve animals. Which implies that your’s don’t. So I just wanted to know what other kind of adventures there are? I’d be happy to do your kind of adventures if that would make you happier. What kind of adventures do you usually do?”

 

That question made Brian snort with laughter. “I don’t do any adventures, Sunshine. At least not the same kind you’re talking about.”

 

“Why not?” Justin seemed totally perplexed. “I know that I never had any adventures before I met you, but that’s because I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. And, back then, even if I had been allowed out I probably would have been too scared to do anything. But you’re not scared of anything, Brian. So I would think you’d be out doing fun stuff every day.”

 

“Sorry, Sunshine, but real life doesn’t work like that,” Brian shook his head and thought about how to explain. “You see, most of the time I’m too busy working to waste time on the type of adventures you’ve been taking us on the past few days. And, I guess, even if I wasn’t busy with work, I probably wouldn’t do any of this silly touristy stuff. That’s just not my style.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense, Brian. Okay, I understand if you’re too busy working. Working seems like it’s important to you. But you can’t be working all the time. So why wouldn’t you want to go out and have fun? How is ‘having fun’ not your style? You’re the funnest person I’ve ever met, Brian!”

 

“Well, since you’ve now met about twenty people total, Sunshine, I guess that makes you an expert on fun!” Brian teased as he held open the door to the RV Park’s office.

 

“I may not know a lot of people, Brian, but I do know that you deserve to have fun. I may not have much experience with adventures, either, but I think I must be better at having fun than you. So, from now on, I’m going to make it my job to teach you how to have fun. And you can teach me all the other stuff like about sex and real life and all.

 

The same teenaged girl from the night before was manning the office desk and looked up with a surprised and slightly shocked smile on her face at Justin’s last uncensored words. Brian groaned and looked around quickly to make sure that nobody else was within hearing range. Justin was correct in that he really wasn’t very good at pretending to be something he wasn’t.

 

“Don’t worry. The Wheeling brothers are still back at the hospital trying to get themselves deskunked. I doubt they’ll be in any shape to give anybody shit for at least a couple more days,” the young lady commented with a grateful grin. “And thanks. I hate those two motherfuckers with a passion. They’re always hitting on me and are too stupid to understand the meaning of the word ‘No’. Or, for that matter, the meaning of the words ‘Statutory Rape’, either. I’m actually enjoying my day without them.”

 

Brian and Justin accepted the girl’s thanks as well as the keys to unlock the pedal bikes which were chained up outside. Brian had to admit that they did look like they’d be a lot of fun. They were four-wheeled, like an ATV, with fat tires and built low to the ground so they would be sturdy while out on the rugged trails in the area. They looked like they could handle pretty much anything. And, since the terrane in the vicinity was mostly flat, except for the occasional dry wash, they shouldn’t have any trouble.


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The girl, whose name turned out to be Missy, gave them a short instructional course on what NOT to do with the bikes and then set them loose. Justin claimed to know the way, saying he’d memorized the trail map he’d picked up the night before, so Brian let the boy take the lead. In no time they were headed off down a dirt track towards the northwest. About fifteen minutes later, after an easy climb, the trail topped a small ridge with a sign that read, ‘Great Divide Basin, Red Desert’.

 

“This is so cool, Brian,” Justin said hopping off his bike to pose by the sign so that Brian could take his picture. “Right now we’re about seven thousand feet above sea level. On this side of the line, all the precipitation flows off to the Atlantic Ocean,” the kid explained before hopping over to the other side of the sign. “And on this side, any precipitation that falls just stays in this big alkali basin and never flows anywhere! It’s called the Red Desert because of the color of most of the rocks. It’s one of the driest places in North America. It gets only about 10 inches of precipitation a year - mostly snowfall in the winter. But because it’s so dry and hard to get to, there aren’t many people living here, so it’s a great place for that wildlife you were worried about earlier.”


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Brian did have to concede that the view from their little ridge was pretty amazing. The land was mostly flat, but off in the distance he could see some interesting and colorful rock formations including one dark-colored protuberance that looked like teeth pointing up at the sky. It certainly was desolate though. The only view more splendid than the scenery around them, Brian thought, was the view of Justin’s beamingly happy face as the boy contemplated the landscape and spouted off additional interesting facts about the neighborhood. Okay. Brian supposed it was worth the lost time if he got to see this beautiful boy enjoying himself so thoroughly.

 

They followed the trail down off the ridge and toodled around for about another half hour. There were a lot of rocks to see. Justin seemed fascinated by the geology of the area and was constantly giving Brian more information than he wanted or needed. Mostly Brian just nodded and let the boy babble. When Brian noted that they’d been out for a good forty minutes, he took over the lead and headed them back up the trail towards the RV Park.

 

The trail here looped around through another dry wash ravine that bordered on a fenced off stretch of plains. The track they were following actually rolled up and down along this part of the path, making the ride feel a bit like a roller coaster. Brian and Justin were both laughing and goofing off so much that neither of them noticed the small family of Pronghorn napping in the sagebrush just beyond the fence until their loud approach scared the group off. Brian got a pretty good picture of one of the males before it got too far away.


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Then, while they were still giddy about that little bit of excitement, the bikes rolled over yet another little bump in the trail and they came to within five meters of one of the most glorious sights either had ever seen - a beautiful Golden Eagle perched on the fence post ahead of them. Brian had never been this close to such a large bird. The bird itself was more than two feet tall and the way it was perched on the post it towered over the two of them. It didn’t seem particularly worried about their approach either. It just sat there and glared down it’s cruelly sharp beak at the two humans with its beady black eyes as if sizing up whether they were edible or not. While the two men froze in place, afraid to either confront it or scare it off - Brian wasn’t sure which - the huge raptor raised up on it’s feet and unfurled its wings, flapping them a couple of times before tucking them back into place at it’s sides. Brian was awed. The wingspan of the bird had to have been more than six feet. When it agilely picked up one foot and menacingly stretched out it’s talon-clad toes in their direction, Brian decided that it was time to move on and give the majestic creature it’s space. Brian and Justin carefully rolled their bikes back a few meters and then detoured around the site, leaving the Golden in solitary possession of his fence post and the land around it.

 

 

 

When they finally made it back to the RV park, Brian found himself telling Missy all about their adventure while Justin, for once, remained uncharacteristically quiet. Brian was simply too impressed by the Golden Eagle to maintain his usual taciturn composure. He’d never been that close to any creature that impressive and he knew he was gushing but really couldn’t stop himself. Missy, who’d lived in the area all her life and probably seen the same eagle or it’s relatives a hundred times, just nodded her head and smiled at him indulgently. Brian really didn’t care though. He just hoped the picture he’d snapped with his phone turned out to be decent because he planned to wow his friends with it as soon as he got home.

 

“See! I knew you knew how to have fun, Brian,” Justin said once they were finally headed back to their RV. “I think you just need more practice. Don’t worry. Just stick with me and I’ll make sure you have lots more fun before we’re through.”

 

Brian chuckled, but he couldn’t deny the truth of the boy’s words. He was pretty sure that he would indeed have a lot more adventures as long as he stuck with Justin. And he just might have a little bit of fun along the way, too!

 

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As soon as they got on the road again, and Brian fell into his long-distance driving mode, things in the RV got quiet again. It was about 180 miles from Rawlins to the Nebraska border, which meant at least three hours of driving. Brian was starting to wonder just how fucking big this country really was. What in the world made him think DRIVING back across it was a good idea?

 

Gradually, as they moved eastward the countryside around them became less and less barren. The windswept rocks dotted with sparse sagebrush started to give way to fields of dry grasses. Eventually the mostly flat landscape cut through by large ravines also gave way to more rolling hills. About an hour or so after they crossed over into Nebraska, they finally saw water for the first time since the Utah border and after that the highway followed along the North Platte River for awhile. It was rather refreshing to see water. And along with the water there were now trees and bushes and, a little farther on, they started to see farmland with fields of wheat or corn. Strangely enough, it seemed that all the fields on the south side of the highway through this stretch were wheat while those on the north side were corn. They joked about this for a good hundred miles - corn on the left and wheat on the right - and wondered if all the local farmers got together and planned it that way on purpose.

 

They stopped at a rest stop just outside of the town of North Platte and made some lunch. Brian took the opportunity to walk around and stretch his muscles as much as possible. Who knew driving was this hard on your body. He really could use a break.

 

“Justin, you don’t by any chance know how to drive, do you?” Brian asked, even though he knew it was unlikely.

 

“Sorry,” Justin shook his head and looked guilty - he’d seen Brian rubbing at his neck and wished he could do something to help.

 

“How would you like to learn? I don’t think I can keep this up indefinitely. You’re going to have to drive for at least some of the way or my back’s going to give out,” Brian proposed, thinking that this was as good a chance for the boy to take up driving as any.

 

“I-I-I can't drive,” Justin stated adamantly.

 

“Of course you can. I’ll teach you,” uttered an exasperated Brian.


“My mother said that's another of those things that lead to getting pregnant. She was pretty insistent about that one too, Brian. I don’t think I should . . .” Justin said in his best PSA voice.

 

“Justin! JUSTIN! Listen to me! Are you listening? YOU won’t get pregnant! Boys can’t do that.” An exasperated Brian walked up to the agitated blond, gently grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into the stormy blue eyes. “Boys can’t get pregnant, only girls can, and it takes more than just sharing a room or a bed or driving.”  Brian didn’t want to go into all kind of details, at least not here in the parking lot of a highway rest area

 

“Even so, Brian . . .” Justin was so hesitant about voicing whatever was bothering him that Brian momentarily thought about shaking the words out of him. Finally, the boy went on. “It’s just that I can’t really do those kinds of things. I don’t know how. I can’t do things like other people, Brian.”

 

“Bullshit, Justin! What do you think you’ve been doing the last few days?” Brian looked into Justin’s scared blue eyes waiting for a response that never came. The boy just shrugged. “THINGS! You’ve been doing all sorts of things, Justin. Like any other person.”

“It’s only because I’ve been with you, Brian. But I don’t think I can do this.”

 

“Justin . . . You can do anything in the world . . . You just have to want to,” Brian tried to reason with him, but the way the kid flinched away from his gaze told him that Justin perhaps wasn’t ready for this.

 

“Fine. Well, maybe you’ll change your mind later, Sunshine. But . . . In the meantime, we better get back on the road. Pittsburgh isn’t getting any closer while we sit here yapping.”

 

Brian extended his arm and pointed back towards the waiting RV. Justin headed in that direction, his shoulders a little droopy and his head down. Brian sighed. He would wait for now and not push. But, since he’d already said that he wanted Brian to teach him real life stuff, maybe Justin would change his mind sometime soon? Brian could only hope that change of attitude came before his back gave out.

 

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It was already after six o’clock when the RV finally rolled into an RV park in Grand Island, Nebraska. Brian didn’t think he could drive any more that day. In fact, he didn’t know if he could actually even walk after sitting cramped in that RV for a solid eight hours of driving time. He did manage to make it over to the office and register them into the campground for the night. It took the last forty bucks he had in his wallet, though. The stress of that didn’t help Brian’s back much. He would have to hit an ATM tonight or tomorrow morning and hope there was more in his bank account than he’d previously thought.

 

“Do we have to pretend to be unhappy again while we’re here?” Justin asked out of the blue as they were heading back out to the RV in order to move it around to their assigned slot. When Brian just looked at him with confusion, Justin tried again. “You know. Like in Rawlins? Where you told me not to act happy. Or at least not so happy that they knew we were gay?”  

 

“I don’t know, Sunshine,” Brian looked around him and saw only another Small-Town-America RV park. “I don’t think you could ever act unhappy enough not to be ‘gay’ - we tried that back in Rawlins and it really didn’t work, remember? But I guess we’re probably safe enough here. As long as we aren’t making out on Main Street, we’ll probably be okay.”

 

“Oh good! Because I have another idea about how to teach you to have fun!” Justin shoved a flyer he’d picked up in the RV Park Office into Brian’s face. “Look! It’s the Nebraska State Fair! We could go there tonight! You’d have lots of fun!”

 

“Shit, Justin!” The only thing Brian wanted right that minute was to lie down somewhere and rest his aching back, but . . .

 

Justin’s face started to crumple - the boy thinking that Brian was about to quash his latest funtime plan.

 

Brian just couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t bear to be the one who’d stifle any of the boy’s freedom. Not after the childhood Justin had suffered through.

 

“You know you’re going to kill me with all this fun before we ever make it back to Pittsburgh, right?” Brian relented. “Fine. We can go to the Fair. But not until after I spend an hour or so soaking in the hot tub so that my back no longer feels like a pretzel.” Instantly, Justin started happily hopping up and down like a grasshopper in a field of ripe wheat. “And don’t even try to tell me that your mother wouldn’t approve of us sitting in the hot tub together or that we’re going to get pregnant! I’m not going there again!” Brian ordered, causing Justin to giggle as he climbed eagerly up into the RV, already trotting towards the bathroom to find their swimming suits. “By the way, weren’t you just telling me how you can’t do things like other people? Then how is it you seem perfectly capable of manipulating ME into doing shit like going to a Hicktown Fair? Huh?”

 

Justin came scampering out of the back waving the suits in his hand. “Well, maybe I CAN do some things. But only things that are fun. And only with you, Brian.” Justin shrugged, raised up on his toes to leave a sweet little kiss on Brian’s lips and then dropped back while he smiled adoringly up at Brian. “Because you really are the funnest person in the world. You just don’t know it yet.”

 

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End Notes:

11/21/15 - Yay! We made it out of Wyoming . . . Now we just have to struggle through the wilds of America's Heartland! Off to write more sickeningly sweet scenes for you! J.S.T.

Chapter 16 - Something in the Way by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Justin continues with his mission to teach Brian how to have fun. Brian seems to be learning almost as much as his Sunshine on this trip! Go, Brian! Enjoy! J.S.T.

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Chapter 16 - Something In The Way.

 

Even with all the activities available at the fair, Brian wasn’t at all surprised when Justin homed in on the animal barns first. They’d been here over an hour now, and still all Justin wanted to do was pet one smelly farm animal after another. Meanwhile, Brian was itching to get out to the Midway where there were some pretty exciting looking rides. That was more what Brian considered fun. Wasn’t that why they were here at the Fair in the first place? So they could have a ‘Bumper Crop of Fun’? Of course, since Justin had set himself up as the arbiter of all things ‘fun’, Brian was at his mercy for the time being.

 

 

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“Isn’t she the sweetest little baby you’ve ever seen,” Justin was cooing as he fondled yet another animal. “I wish we could take her with us! She wouldn’t take up much room. And she’d be even more cuddly than the baby skunks, don’t you think, Brian?”

 

Brian looked over to see what type of farmyard beast his little blond was now demanding that they adopt. Brian was not at ALL pleased to note that this time Justin was standing next to a pen filled with a huge white sow and her litter of about a dozen piglets. Justin had already apparently made fast friends with one of the more inquisitive piglets who was trying its best to get out of the pen and into Justin’s arms. The squirmy little pink thing was kind of cute, Brian had to admit, in a Babe The Pig kind of way. But then again, he didn’t want it to end up in their RV for the remaining thousand miles of their journey either. Especially not if he’d be expected to share a bed with the thing in the process.

 

 

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“Justin . . .” Brian struggled with the gentlest way to make his point, and then got inspired when he looked over at the other occupants of the pen. “Sunshine, do you see the mother pig over there?” Brian pointed to the cute little piglet’s fifteen hundred pound mother who was rooting in the grass a few feet away. “Your little friend here is admittedly cute right now, but THAT’S what she’ll look like in just a few months. Do you really want to try and cuddle with her when she’s that size?”

 

 

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Justin tilted his head to the side and wrinkled up his nose adorably as he contemplated the enormity of the huge Middle White sow. “Hmmmm. Mamma Pig is a bit large, isn’t she? She wouldn’t fit in the RV, I don’t think. Oh well. You’re probably right, Brian. Baby piggies need to stay with their huge mommies. But she is sweet.”

 

Brian was relieved to see Justin give the little piglet one last pat and then compliantly move away. He was also happy that this seemed like the last barn full of animals, so that meant that he could finally entice his young blond charge away towards the more lively areas of the Fair. Really, it was bad enough that Brian had let himself be talked into doing something as tacky as going to a State Fair, but how the fuck had he let himself get railroaded into spending any time at all in the animal barns? This little blond mental patient must have some kind of sneaky superpowers to make Brian Kinney act so out of character.

 

Once they got back onto the Midway, Brian felt at least a little bit better. The sun was just setting and the lights were starting to come up. It was at least festive enough to make him forget that he was in the middle of Nebraska at a fucking State Fair. He could do this, right? Justin was wrong that he didn’t know how to have fun. Brian just had a different definition of fun . . . and he didn’t think his neophyte ward was ready for THAT type of fun yet, so he’d just have to make do. And the best place to start on that endeavor was the carnival rides.

 

 

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Brian looked into his wallet to see if he had enough to buy them some ride tickets but was immediately reminded that he’d spent his last cash at the RV park. Damn. Well, he’d just have to visit the ATM that he’d seen back by the entrance gate. Although Brian did make a mental note to talk to Justin about making the remainder of his adventures less cash dependent.

 

“Sunshine, I need to go to the ATM and get some money so we can go on a few of these rides. You can just sit tight here and wait for me, okay?” Brian directed, sitting the younger man down on an empty table at the edge of the food court area. Justin didn’t seem concerned about Brian leaving him - he simply smiled, pulled his sketchbook out of the backpack he’d appropriated from the RV and started doodling. “Don’t wander off. I’ll be right back,” Brian warned.

 

The ATM was on the far side of the Fair complex, so it took Brian a while to make his way over there. He also had to stand in line behind the other cash poor shleps waiting for the machine. He eventually did make it to the ATM, popped in his bank card, pulled up his current available balance and then groaned aloud. Despite the fact that they’d been pretty frugal these past few days, Brian’s account was sorely depleted. He now had less than fifty bucks in his checking account. There was probably still enough on his one last credit card to buy another full tank of gas for the RV, but that was all. There was really nothing left for groceries or anything else. And, after tonight, they probably couldn’t even afford the fees for another RV park. It looked like they’d be parking on the side of the road to camp the next few nights. It was definitely going to be a close call whether or not they’d make it back to Pittsburgh.

 

Brian took out $20 - enough for a couple rides tonight - but that was all he was willing to invest in Justin’s idea of fun. And they wouldn’t get to splurge on dinner at the Fair either. He hoped that the groceries in the RV would hold out for the rest of the trip - after watching the way Justin ate, he wasn’t sure about that, though. Oh well. Brian was doing the best he could. It would have to be good enough.

 

Brian was still stressing over his money woes as he was walking back towards the food court area where he'd left his blond. When he got close enough, he looked up, hoping to glimpse the boy obediently waiting for him as directed. Unfortunately, the first thing he noted was that there seemed to be a huge commotion taking place right around the place where he'd left the kid. Where Justin was supposed to be sitting all alone at an empty picnic table, there was now about twenty five people milling around and hovering over the table. Shit! Knowing the way trouble seemed to follow the boy around, Brian was instantly worried. He hoped Justin hadn't gotten scared when Brian hadn't returned as quickly as expected. What if the kid had had another panic attack. Or worse, what if someone had taken offense at one of the oddball things the kid said sometimes?

 

Brian broke into a sprint, covering the short distance in only seconds, feeling a bit panicky himself.

 

“Justin! Justin, what's wrong?” Brian viciously elbowed his way into the crowd swarming the picnic table through which he could just barely see a blond head. “Justin! . . . What the fuck?”

 

“Brian!” Justin beamed up at the frightened brunet as soon as Brian made enough headway through the throng that his little blond could see him. “Look, Brian. I’m an artist! For real! I’m not pretending this time, either. All these people want me to draw their pictures. And they’re even giving me money. I didn’t have to do any hand jobs either! Isn’t that the coolest thing ever?”

 

Justin held up his sketch pad that currently displayed a black and white drawing of the two fair-goers sitting across the table from the happy little blond boy. Lying on the table next to Justin’s backpack was a small stack of ten and twenty dollar bills. Off to the side of the group, Justin’s last customer was standing there showing off his own caricature drawing - this one done with a bit of color that featured the guy’s bright red t-shirt and showed him smirking. Brian had to admit that it was a pretty good likeness for a caricature. The crowd of folks all eagerly waiting in line for their turns seemed to agree

.

 

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For about the next hour or so, Justin continued to scribble away at a frantic pace drawing sketch after sketch. Brian contented himself with just watching while he held the kid’s money. It was amazing how much dough the novice artist was raking in. Brian took over the job of negotiating Justin’s fees - charging ten dollars a pop for a single black and white sketch, fifteen for a sketch with more than one subject and twenty for a colored sketch. Justin was incredibly fast at these little drawings, too - which meant that he was able to pop off one every ten minutes or so. In no time at all, Brian had over a hundred dollars in his hands. Not bad at all for a kid who until just a few days before hadn’t even been allowed out of the house he’d grown up in. Brian was really proud of how great the kid’s sketches were being received and how much money Justin had been able to make because of that fact.

 

When Brian noticed that Justin’s sketching was slowing down and the artist had to take a couple short breaks to shake out his hand, he figured that it was time to call it a night. As soon as Justin finished the last sketch he’d been working on, Brian stood up and addressed the crowd. “Sorry, folks. I think that’s about all Justin can do for now. If we don’t stop now, he won’t be able to draw anything tomorrow.” There was a huge groan of complaint from those who had been waiting. 

 


Brian could already tell that Justin was about to cave in and take on another customer, so he jumped in and intervened by taking away the sketchbook, stowing it in the backpack and physically lifting the boy out of his seat.

 

The masses dispersed after that, albeit with a lot of grumbling. Justin was frowning - looking back over his shoulder at his lost customers and dragging his feet. Brian ignored him and swiftly bundled his entrepreneurial artist away, heading swiftly down the the midway.

 

“But, Brian . . . All those people were waiting for me for so long. I shouldn’t just leave them there like that,” Justin was still complaining a good five minutes later. “I liked drawing pictures for them. It was fun and they all seemed to like me so much. Are you sure it was time to stop?”

 

“Yes, Sunshine, I’m sure. I saw the way your hand was starting to cramp up. That was a sure sign that you’d done enough,” Brian insisted.

 

“It was really nice that they all gave me money for my pictures, wasn’t it? Did we get a lot of money?” Justin asked, a little mollified by Brian’s show of concern for him.

 

“Actually, yeah. You made a fast $130, Sunshine. Not bad at all for your first day as a working stiff.”

 

“I’m not stiff, Brian. My hand IS a little tired - it’s not stiff, though. See,” Justin flexed his fingers in Brian’s face before continuing. “But $130! Wow! That’s really a lot, isn’t it? We’re rich, Brian!” Justin’s smile somehow grew even brighter and threatened to outshine the neon lights of the Midway. “I hope it’s enough so that you won’t have to be so worried about money and how to get us home anymore,” the boy added with a wink. “I know you were worried about money stuff. I saw the way you looked when the lady at the RV park took your money this afternoon. But now that we have all this money it’ll be okay, right?”

 

“You shouldn’t be worrying about all that, Justin. I’ll get us back one way or another. I’m the one that talked you into going to Portland with me in the first place, so it’s my problem about how to get us back. Not yours. And, anyway, this is your money, Sunshine, not mine,” Brian said, pulling the wad of cash out of the front pocket of his jeans and handing it to it’s owner. “You earned it with your hard work and your art while I just sat there watching. You can spend it however you want. I don’t expect you to be supporting me while we’re on the road. You keep your money and do something fun with it.” When Justin hesitated to take back the money, Brian simply tucked it into Justin’s jean’s pocket. “Now, come on. I want to take you on a couple of these rides and then we can head back to the RV Park and see what else is still in the fridge that we can make up for dinner.”

 

“No!” Justin stopped dead in the middle of the pathway, tugging on Brian’s hand to make him stop too. “No, Brian. That’s not right!” When it looked like Brian was going to argue with him, Justin cut him off immediately. “No, Brian. It’s really not right. You’ve been taking care of me all this time. You took me away from the scary hospital and you’ve taken me to all these interesting places. You’ve shown me so many new things and taught me all about everything in the real world. AND, so far, you’ve paid for everything. But, that’s not right. I want to help. I want to take care of you too. So you have to take this money and use it to take care of both of us . . . If I had more money I’d give it all to you.” Brian opened his mouth intending to protest, but Justin turned to him, placed his fingers over Brian’s lips to stop his words and looked up pleadingly into the beautiful hazel eyes. “You’re the only person in the whole world who even cares that I’m alive, Brian. You’re the only one who’s ever seen me. I was invisible before I met you. You’re making me into a real person, Brian. A person who isn’t scared of the world on the outside. And that means so much more than anyone could ever know. So you’re going to take this money - and if I can figure out how to get more, I’ll give that to you too - and you’re going to let me take care of you a little bit too. And teach you about having fun. And compromising. Because that’s what boyfriends do, right?”

 

“Justin . . .” Brian fully intended to protest, but was stopped again, this time by Justin reaching around behind his neck and pulling his head down so that he could reach Brian’s lips with his own.

 

“I might not know anything about the real world or sex or having jobs or anything like that, Brian,” Justin added as soon as the kiss ended. “But I do know that we should be taking care of each other. That’s what people who care about one another do. And you’re not going to ever convince me otherwise. So stop trying to argue with me, because I just won’t listen.” Justin kissed Brian solidly, without any of his usual reticence, and then hit him with one of his blindingly bright smiles before he shoved the wad of greenbacks back into Brian’s hands. “Now . . . you are going to take me on all of these rides and then buy us dinner with that money. And then we’re going to go back to the RV park and you can teach me how to do some other boyfriend things. And don’t even try to argue, Mr. Kinney, ‘cause it won’t work.”

 

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re an annoying little twat, Sunshine?” Brian asked with a teasing little tilt to his head.

 

“My mother told me that pretty much every day of my life,” Justin admitted but without seeming too upset by the thought. “Well, she never used the word ‘Twat” but it was the same sentiment . . . What exactly is a ‘Twat’ anyway, Brian?”

 

“Something I hope you’ll never have to worry about, Sunshine,” Brian laughed at the abrupt, and very welcomed, change of subject. “Well, fine. If you insist that we HAVE to use your money, Sunshine, then I say let’s get started on that plan. First one to the ferris wheel gets to choose what boyfriend thing we do next.”

 

Brian took off running down the crowded midway full sprint, dodging the startled people all around him, and making Justin laugh out loud. The blond boy started running after him. The folks in their path moved out of the way quickly, thinking that they were acting a little crazy. And for once, Brian Kinney didn’t mind in the least that he was acting like a kid.

 

Three hours later, the two ‘boys’ finally took their last ride down the giant slide after having stuffed themselves with corn dogs, onion rings, sodas and funnel cakes. They’d been on every single ride at the Fair at least once - the Zipper three times, since it turned out to be Brian’s favorite - and Brian had even won Justin a plush pink and white stuffed piglet at the ring toss game, commenting that here was his piglet to cuddle with. When a kindly looking little old lady offered to take their picture, they readily agreed, and even made use of the head-in-hole wooden cutout stands.

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The two fully stuffed and exhausted boys finally agreed they’d had enough fun for one night right about the time the carnies started to close up the midway. Despite their wholesome midwestern surroundings, Brian put his arm around Justin’s shoulders and even kissed him on the cheek as they ambled past the now almost deserted carnival area. Justin slipped his arm around Brian’s waist and squeezed him back.

 

“This was the best night of my life, Just Brian!” Justin proclaimed, his eyes glinting with a hint of wetness as he looked up at Brian so adoringly that it scared the older man - it also made him feel guilty, because Brian knew he would have to give his boy up in the not so distant future.

 

Brian was taken by surprise when, a moment later, the boy stopped in his tracks and pulled the taller man around so that they were looking at each other face to face. Their eyes locked. Their elated smiles matched. And Brian found himself thinking that he’d never had more fun in his entire life than he’d had with this crazy, innocent, untamed, little blond boy - not that he’d be admitting that fact aloud any time soon.

 

“By the looks of things, it was the best night of your life too, Brian. You should see your face right now. You look so happy and beautiful. I told you I could teach you how to have fun!” Justin punctuated his words with a kiss that spoke all his feelings for this wonderful man. “Now, let's go do more boyfriend things together. I want to try this thing I read about - I think it was called snowballing - it sounds like fun! Can you still do it in the summertime though? Cause I don’t think there’s any snow around here . . .”

 

Brian’s shoulders shook with laughter at Justin’s suggestion. The kid really was an adorable little shit, he thought to himself.

 

“I don’t think you're quite ready for that Sunshine - but I’m sure we'll think of something.”

 

 

End Notes:

11/23/15 - According to the maps we're looking at, it looks like the boys will only have a couple more nights on the road before they're due to hit Pittsburgh. Of course, a lot could still happen in two days, right? Who knows. You'll have to keep reading to find out. J.S.T.

Chapter 17 - You Know You're Right by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Something fun to offset the drama of spending the holidays with your family who probably doesn't know you really ENJOY reading gay porn? J.S.T.

 

Chapter 17 - You Know You’re Right

 

The roaring of a loud diesel engine outside the bedroom window woke Brian up. It must still be pretty early, though, since there wasn’t too much noise going on outside around the RV park. Brian was sort of getting used to the noises that came with living in an RV - he could almost gauge the time of day by how many of their fellow ‘campers’ were up and about and making noise while they loaded up their rigs for the road. Judging by the fact that he only heard the one engine, therefore, it couldn’t be that late yet.

 

Which was a good thing because Brian really didn’t feel much like moving just then. I mean, who would want to get up or even move when you woke with your arms full of pure, unadulterated, naked Sunshine? Wouldn’t anyone in his position want to simply lie there and wallow in the warmth, the acres of flawless alabaster skin and the feel of a rather generous and nicely hardened cock pressing against your hip?

 

The feel of that lovely young cock brought to mind just how eager innocent little Justin had been to get back to the RV and start exploring all those new ‘boyfriend things’ the evening before. Brian recalled the feather light touches, the teasing little kisses, the playful, inexperienced groping that eventually led to much more serious fare. The kid’s inexpert yet enthusiastic experimentation merely egged Brian on and inflamed his needy libido. Before he knew what was happening, he had the boy pinned under him and was assaulting him with bruising, ravenous kisses, each one fanning the fire of their mutual need. It was truly the most sensual and intimate experience of Brian’s entire, long and far too promiscuous life. And that was before they’d even gone beyond the kissing stage.

 

But the more they kissed and groped, the harder it was for Brian to remember just how unsophisticated and unprepared Justin was. Justin was so open and willing. He was completely unjaded and had absolutely no preconceptions about sex. He was just totally willing to let Brian do anything he wanted. And, oh fuck, Brian wanted . . . He wanted to devour this boy. He wanted to touch and taste every single millimeter of him. Maybe it was the simple fun they’d had earlier at the fair, or maybe it was just the enforced closeness and Brian’s lack of any other outlet for his desires over the past week, but right at that moment he felt like he wanted to immerse himself in the boy and never mind if he would be able to resurface.

 

Before he’d even thought about what he was going to do, or whether he was moving too fast for the eager youth, he found himself stripping the boy’s clothing off him. He just couldn’t wait to see every single inch of that perfect little twinkie body. Luckily, for once, Justin didn’t let his innate shyness make an unwelcome appearance. Of course, that was probably because the kid was so wrapped up in the myriad sensual sensations that were swamping his senses that any modesty he might have had was simply swept away. Brian found that the boy was soon kissing back as hard and almost as desperately as he was himself.

 

Brian no sooner had that delectable body fully unwrapped, than he knew he wanted to touch it all. And, yes, they’d dallied a bit here and there. There had been that one hand job, the blow job and the shower the other morning, but none of that was enough anymore. Brian let his hands glide over the silky smooth skin, down the lightly defined chest, over the narrow waist and the slim hips, over the strong thighs and the slightly furred calves. Then the hands moved - almost of their own volition - back upwards, stroking the insides of the quivering limbs. He was surprised when Justin subconsciously welcomed him by spreading his legs widely, making Brian’s job so much easier. His hands just kept on drifting up and up and up, Justin not making any demure when Brian eventually rearranged the pliable limbs so that the boy’s ankles were resting on his shoulders, giving the older man unhindered access to what lay below.

 

Justin might not have known what he was doing at the time, but his body already instinctively knew what it wanted. Brian’s fingers were only lightly brushing across a thigh, his intention to move lower, when Justin’s hips naturally arched up as if pleading for a more intimate touch. With that tacit invitation, Brian ran his hand from thigh to ass in a slow caress until his thumb brushed lightly against the tight folds of Justin’s sweet pink pucker. Looking up at the questioning blue gaze, Brian let his mischievous side prevail. His fingers circled down to the tightly wrinkled folds of Justin’s opening for a few brief moments, playing, tapping at and caressing the sensitive folds of tight muscle he found there.

 

Brian wasn’t deterred by Justin’s gasp of surprise when the young man first felt his boyfriend’s fingers going THERE again. “Brian . . . Oh, Brian . . . I-I-I really like it when you do that, Brian . . . When you touch me there, it feels . . . Why does it feel so good?” Justin stammered out in between deep gulps of air.

 

Brian didn’t answer except to chuckle quietly with his lips pressed up against the skin of the kid’s taut abs. This young man was so fucking endearing it was crazy. Even a jaded sexual predator like Brian didn’t seem immune to the kid’s innocent wiles. It just made him want this nymph even more. Want to share even more firsts with the enthusiastic little tyro.

 

Brian continued to play for a little while. He was trying so hard to hold himself back. He knew he couldn’t rush Justin or he’d scare the kid off. But it wasn’t long before the need to taste his boy took control. With that all-consuming need pushing at him, Brian urged Justin to roll over onto his knees, raising that delectable, untried ass in the air. Brian spent a second or two caressing those bounteous globes with sensual appreciation before again letting his thumbs glide back down the silken valley between. Once there, he tenderly pulled the cheeks apart and ran the pads of both of this thumbs along the crevice towards the untried hole.

 

When he felt another surge of desire overtaking him, Brian finally lowered his head to get even closer. He inhaled the innocent musky scent of his virginal boy. That intoxicating aroma went straight to his cock. Then he extended his tongue and allowed himself one small, trial taste. He could feel Justin’s muscles tense with surprise, but he held the boy’s hips still with his hands so that he wouldn’t have to stop.

 

“Brian?” The kid was panting so heavily he could barely get the words out. “Why . . . Why are you . . .  Your tongue . . . Why are you putting your tongue there? Are you . . . Are you supposed to do that?” A gasping Justin protested, twisting his body around almost in half in an effort to try and see exactly what it was that Brian was doing.

 

“Do you like it, Sunshine?” Brian asked, pausing in his ministrations to let the boy think over what was happening. When Justin nodded with a bashful grin, Brian smiled back at him. “That’s why I do it - because it makes you feel good. And I really want to make you feel good, Justin.”

 

“But . . . But, isn’t it  . . . dirty?” The final word was whispered like he was passing on a filthy little secret.

 

“Maybe a little, but I think you taste great, Sunshine. And sex is always a little dirty . . . if you do it right that is. If you don’t get a little messy, you’re probably not having any fun. Plus, there’s nothing dirty or wrong about my making you feel good,” Brian explained as best he could without scaring the boy with too many details.

 

Justin didn’t voice any further complaints, so Brian continued on. He tentatively licked, sucked, and nibbled at the tender star, causing Justin to jerk and buck with every motion. The boy was very obviously not prepared for this newest boyfriend experience, and yet a moment later Brian felt him already pushing his ass back towards Brian’s questing lips and tongue. And, from the lust-filled moans that Brian could hear escaping the boy’s lips, his Sunshine appeared to like his first foray into rimming quite a bit.

 

Brian carried on with his tender assault for several more minutes, then decided to move on and try something just a tad bit more advanced. With a silent appeal to the gods of gay sex for guidance, he speared his tongue deep into the heated tunnel. Justin squawked and wriggled but didn’t do anything that would make Brian think his boy wanted him to stop. After a few plunging forays, tongue fucking Justin’s ass with abandon, Brian slowly added a finger to the mix, slipping his index finger in until he was able to massage the walnut-sized gland inside. Each time Brian would tap at his prostate, the boy almost convulsed with the previously unknown pleasure. The novelty of being fingered had Justin’s body twitching, wriggling, twisting, and writhing, each motion accompanied by appropriately surprised and at the same time wanton vocalizations. In no time at all, Justin was a total moaning mess and Brian loved every single second of it.

 

“B-B-Brian, your finger . . . It . . . It feels so amazing. I didn’t know my body could feel this way . . . What . . . What are you . . . What's your finger rubbing against in there? It makes me feel like I’m on fire.” Justin moaned hedonistically.

 

“That, Sunshine, is your prostate. And the fact that I not only know how to find yours but I actually know what to do with it, is one of the greatest privileges of being gay,” Brian explained succinctly. “Now, stop analyzing everything and just enjoy it. I promise that you’ll like everything I’m going to do to you. You don’t have to think about it all so hard, okay?”

 

Justin gave a jerky nod of agreement, his eyes fluttering with the intense pleasure as Brian continued to massage his sweet spot from the inside. Judging by the boy’s reactions, the more experienced man thought that maybe his neophyte was ready for even more fun. Brian briefly halted his sensual assault on his horny little lad, to retrieve a packet of lube. He opened the travel pack of Astroglide and liberally coated his fingers - rubbing them together to warm the gel. Then paused in order to give his boy a bit of a head’s up.

 

“Justin, I want you to relax a little more for me. I'm going to put another finger inside you, but you need to tell me if you start to feel uncomfortable, okay?” Justin didn’t say anything - not that he could amidst all the panting and mewling.

 

Brian went ahead and added another finger along with his still probing tongue. With his free hand he reached around and began expertly stroking Justin’s cock in time with his oral thrusts. The three sensations combined were a powerful fusion of pleasure. Justin’s already loud moaning escalated exponentially second by second. Finally, with a loud *Brian, Brian, Brian*, Justin shot his load, squeezing the fingers and tongue that were still up his ass, and his dick pulsing fiercely in Brian’s other hand. As Justin collapsed like a puddle of goo, Brian took his cum spattered hand and wrapped it around his own hard and needy cock. It only took a few firm tugs, and he was coming almost as fiercely as the blond who was collapsed next to him.

 

“Brian? Does EVERYONE know about this stuff? You know, the boyfriend stuff? The . . . the prostate and the tongue thing and . . . well all the rest of it?” Justin asked with evident curiosity a few minutes later.

 

“I don’t know. Why, Sunshine?”

 

“Because, if they all knew about how fucking good this stuff feels, they would ALL be gay! In fact, I don’t think anyone would ever get out of their beds if they knew how good this feels. The entire world would just stop. Don’t you think?”

 

“I need to get gas for this behemoth,” Brian announced as they pulled into the parking lot of the big box ‘Superstore’ right off the interstate on the west side of Lincoln, Nebraska. He pulled the RV up in front of the store’s main entrance and handed over several twenties out of the stash Justin had earned the prior night. “Why don’t you run into the store and pick up some groceries while I’m fueling up, Sunshine. I think you probably need some more Lucky Charms and some milk, right? I’ll gas up and then meet you inside. Okay?”

 

Justin looked up at the huge building, chewed a little nervously on his bottom lip but then took a deep breath and nodded to Brian. He got out of the passenger-side Captain’s chair and started to head down the steps towards the RV’s door. He still looked a little hesitant about heading into the store on his own, but he was trying not to show that to Brian.

 

“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian yelled, leaned over to pick up the kid’s seldom used shoes and tossed them at the retreating head. “They won’t let you in the store without shoes on. I’ll be in as soon as I get the gas. Don’t worry. Nobody here will bite you . . . unless you ask them nicely.”

 

Justin looked back at Brian with evident confusion over that last quip, but all Brian did was laugh and wave him away. Justin shook his head, gave Brian another of his 1000 watt grins and then went on his way. Brian watched until the kid was all the way through the big automatic sliding glass doors before starting up the RV again and pulling around to the side where the store’s gas station was set up. He pulled under the canopy by the farthest gas pump, got out and started to fill up with diesel. He was just finishing up ten minutes later when his cell phone began to ring insistently. Brian set the nozzle for the gas pump into its cradle and grabbed his phone before it could go to voice mail. He didn’t even get to say ‘hello’ though before the person calling was screaming at him.

 

“Where the fuck have you been, Brian?” Cynthia’s voice was shrill and not at all like the usually calm and competent tone Brian was more accustomed to hear from his stalwart assistant. “I have been trying to reach you for two days now. Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone and where the hell are you?”

 

“Calm yourself, Cynthia. Shit! You’re going to have a stroke if you don’t sit the fuck down and take a breath in between cursing at me,” Brian hissed back, trying to keep his voice down since he was in publc.

 

“I’ll fucking calm down when you tell me where you are and why the fucking police were at my house on Monday looking for you?” Cynthia responded, a little less volubly but with no abatement of her obvious anger. “I’ve been calling everywhere trying to find you. I even called the Dennisons, who said you left on Saturday and they hadn’t heard from you since. What the hell happened out there, Brian?”

 

“I’m in Lincoln, Nebraska, of all fucking places. I didn’t have enough money for plane tickets so I’m driving. I’ve been on the road for three days now and the reason you haven’t been able to reach me is because I don’t think they even had cell phone service in most of the places I’ve been. Have you ever been to Rawlins, Wyoming - let me tell you, it’s not exactly a thriving metropolis - the highest form of technology I saw there was the windmill on the putt-putt golf course. So don’t give me shit about not being able to reach me,” Brian explained and in the process vented some of his own frustration at his slow progress. “Anyway, I’m on my way back to the fucking Pitts and we should be there in another day or two, so keep your panties on.”

 

“Fine. That explains where you are now, but what about the fucking police, Brian? They had a warrant for your arrest! I truthfully told them I didn’t know where the fuck you were, but unless you tell me EXACTLY what the hell’s going on I’m going to march right down to the police station and tell them where to find your moldy ass,” Cynthia sounded serious, but Brian didn’t really know what to tell her - he was kind of overwhelmed by this news himself. “They said something about you setting free a dangerous, possibly psychotic, criminal and used the word ‘kidnapping’? What were you thinking, Brian? This just isn’t like you.”

 

“It’s a long fucking story, Cyn. I don’t even know where to start . . . suffice it to say that the person I invited along to Portland to pose as my boyfriend for the Dennisons is just a little different,” Brian knew that was a huge understatement but wasn’t sure how else to describe Justin. “I didn’t fucking kidnap him or anything, though - that’s all a pile of crap. And he’s not psychotic or anything. He’s . . . I don’t know what he is, but I don’t believe that he’s dangerous or crazy.”

 

“Well, since your degree in Psychiatry is a little outdated, I don’t think your assessment is going to be the one that matters, Dr. Kinney. You better get this guy back here ASAP and return him to his keepers or they’re going to throw your ass in jail,” Cynthia’s snark was back, which told Brian that she must have forgiven him at least a little bit for going MIA. “In the meantime, you better come up with a way to save your company. It didn’t sound to me like things went all that well with Adam Dennison given that you apparently left before even giving your presentation. We were counting on that account, Brian. Now what are we going to do?”

 

“I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do, Cyn . . .” Brian slumped back against the side of the RV dejectedly.

 

Right at that moment, however, Brian noticed a Nebraska State Trooper’s patrol car pulling into the shopping center’s parking lot, which reminded him of the other legal issue that he currently had - the fact that he was driving around in a most-likely-stolen RV. Standing around here and moping about his problems wasn’t going to solve anything. What he needed to do was get the fuck back to Pittsburgh and hopefully he could straighten everything out once he was there. But if he got picked up now in a stolen vehicle, this whole farce would come crashing down around his ears. The best thing he could do would be to get the hell out of here and get back to the Pitts as fast as fucking possible.

 

“I gotta go, Cynthia. Just hold down the fort for a little bit longer. I should be home in two days - three tops - and I’ll try to figure out what to do next by the time I get there. Gotta go. Later,” Brian terminated the call, turning his back as the patrol car drove past and pretending to fuss with the gasoline pump.

 

It was high time to find his escaped mental patient companion and get the fuck out of Lincoln.

 

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Brian finally located his errant kidnapping victim standing in the middle of the frozen foods aisle and looking around himself as if he was lost. The shopping cart waiting in front of Justin contained a gallon jug of milk, an extra-large box of Lucky Charms, some powdered sugar donuts and a loaf of wheat bread. Other than that, though, the cart was mostly empty - which didn’t make much sense since the kid had to have been in the store for more than twenty-five minutes by the time Brian found him. Brian suspected that Justin had simply been standing there frozen in the frozen foods section for the majority of that time.

 

“Sunshine?” Brian approached with caution. “You okay there?”

 

“Huh?” Justin acted like he was just waking up upon hearing Brian’s voice.

 

“You look a little shellshocked, Sunshine. What’s wrong?”

 

“Um . . . there’s all this stuff . . . I just never saw so much food before. And . . . and other stuff, too . . . and there’s so much of it . . .” Justin’s eyes were flickering around him, as if unable to focus on any one thing before they were drawn off to see another wonder. “I had no idea there was a store like this out there. It’s so big. And there’s so much stuff . . . Too much stuff . . . I don’t know what to get . . . How do you decide what to buy when there’s this much stuff?” Justin’s befuddled voice wavered at this point.

 

“Well, it may be a lot of stuff, but you did manage to find the ice cream aisle, Sunshine. That's a good place to start. What flavor are you interested in?” Brian decided that it would be best to lighten the atmosphere a bit.

 

At the mention of ice cream, Justin’s eyes immediately began to sparkle with anticipation, “Ice cream? I love chocolate! And vanilla is really nice, too!” Justin was distracted by this suggestion sufficiently that he finally moved . . . only to end up a few feet away with his face and both hands planted against the glass door of the ice cream section. “They have strawberry too! Oh, and peanut butter - I’ve never had peanut butter ice cream. Is it any good? What’s Chunky Monkey? Caramel . . . Pumpkin . . . Cherry . . . This one says it has gold fish in it? Who’d want to have fish flavored ice cream, Brian? Is there anything they DON’T put into ice cream?”

 

Brian had to play referee or else Justin would have spent hours going through every possible ice cream flavor offered - which ended up being quite a lot, actually. In the end, Brian allowed him to get three pints - one chocolate, one whole bean vanilla (Brian’s favorite) and one Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food (because Justin still couldn’t believe anyone would put fish in their ice cream). After that experience, Brian was exhausted and ready to get the fuck out of there. He did want to stop and pick up some toiletry items though, so they had to detour through the main part of the store. The only problem with that idea was that it was virtually impossible to get Justin to walk more than a couple feet at a time before he was distracted by some other new and unusual product that he just had to examine. At this rate, Brian figured it might take hours to get him back out to the fucking RV.

 

The boy’s running commentary followed them throughout the entire store, much to Brian’s embarrassment.

 

As they passed the meat counter: “I thought bacon was made out of pigs, Brian - so, how can they have turkey bacon, turkey bologna, and turkey pastrami? What are rocky mountain oysters - I thought oysters were fish from the ocean, how could they live in the mountains? Ewwwww - why would anyone eat a chicken’s foot. Did you see that, Brian? They have chickens’ feet for sale over there! Why would you eat that?”

 

Walking past a colorful endcap display of chips and dips: “Yuck! Pickled onion potato chips? That sounds disgusting!”

 

Down the aisle that held various canned items: “Kraut juice? Is that like sauerkraut or are they talking about German people - cause I saw a movie once where they called these German soldiers, ‘Krauts’. But that wouldn’t make sense, would it? They wouldn’t make juice out of German soldiers . . .” And also: “Powdered goat milk? That sounds weird. Do they grind up the goats into a powder and then add it to the milk? I don’t think I’d like that very much.”  

 

Even the foods marketed towards children for their summertime fun gave Justin trouble: “Frog Spit popsicles? Ehhhhh! I don’t know why freezing frog spit would make it any more yummy. But, ooooooo! Look, Color-changing Jello! That sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Brian?”  

 

On top of the delays caused by the endless questions about all the strange products, Justin was further waylaid every time they passed one of the obsequiously smiling marketing people offering free samples of food. The first time a handsome young man came up holding out a tray of crackers topped with the latest processed food-like spread substance, Justin happily took hold of the whole tray, tore it out of the host’s hands and started scarfing down cracker after cracker as he continued to thread his way through the aisles. It took both Brian and the young store clerk a good five minutes to explain to the boy that he wasn't supposed to take the whole ‘plate’ of food. After that Justin was more polite - well, mostly - and only took three or four (or five or six or more if he really liked whatever it was and Brian wasn't right there to stop him) samples from each offering. Somehow word must have gotten out though, because it eventually got to the point that the marketing folks actually closed up shop and scurried away whenever they saw Justin approaching. So much for Justin's free lunch.

 

Brian finally lost it when Justin almost insisted that they purchase something that said it was Organic Garlic Shampoo. No fucking way was Brian going to put up with either of them smelling like garlic all day because of their shampoo. He physically dragged Justin away from that display and just kept on walking until they were in the checkout line - to hell with getting more condoms and lube, that had probably been just wishful thinking anyway.

 

In the end it took Brian almost a full hour to drag Justin out of the store. They'd only bought about ten items. Brian figured they'd count the grocery store as Justin's one adventure for that day and call it good. Oh, and he'd do all the shopping - alone - from now on.

 

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End Notes:

11/26/15

Chapter 18 - Dumb by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian's panicking over the news he got from Cynthia that the cops are now looking for him . . . J.S.T.

*****Warning - NOT a light, happy, fluffy chapter. Sorry, folks.*****

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Chapter 18 - Dumb.

 

As Brian was pulling out of Lincoln, Nebraska, that phone conversation with Cynthia kept reverberating through his mind. He was in such a shitload of trouble that he didn't really even know where to start to fix it all. All he could think of was that he needed to get back to Pittsburgh as soon as humanly possible. Once he was home, he'd figure everything out. He could fix this, right? Right?

 

However, Brian's desire to get home as quickly as possible was tempered by a cautionary voice in his head that warned him to be as inconspicuous as possible in the meantime. He really would prefer to get home first and then - when he had the backing of his name and his family to rely on - he could start to unravel the legal mess he was in. He was pretty sure that if he got pulled over before then, especially in some little podunk town in the middle of nowhere, things would be substantially harder to resolve. So, when they passed a sign indicating an exit that would lead them off the interstate and onto a more southern but essentially parallel route, Brian took the turn. His hope was that no law enforcement types would be looking for him off the beaten track, so to speak. Even if this less travelled route was a little bit slower, he hoped it would be safer.

 

Justin had seemed pretty bushed after their shopping adventure earlier and had been sitting there quietly ever since they left Lincoln. Brian glanced over and saw the boy doodling happily in his sketchbook with an introspective smile. That meant, though, that for the rest of the drive heading south from Lincoln towards Nebraska City and from there on down to St. Joseph, Missouri, there weren't any distractions from his internal monologue. Which also meant that Brian finally had no more excuses to delay thinking through his current predicament. The conclusions he was coming up with, however, were not at all peaceful or reassuring.

 

So, yeah, from the start of this Brian had sort of been joking with himself about ‘kidnapping a mental patient’. He wasn’t serious about it, of course. And at the time he hadn’t known anything about Justin’s past or the allegations regarding his mother. Now though, it looked like at least the police were serious about that kidnapping thing. And even if he could prove he wasn’t guilty of kidnapping - because the kid HAD come with him voluntarily - there was still the possibility that the authorities would say he was somehow aiding and abetting an escaped criminal. It was a Catch 22 - either way you looked at it, Brian was going to be in trouble as long as he was ‘harboring’ the little fugitive.

 

He didn’t believe for even a second that Justin - this shy, gentle, beautiful boy who was scared of his own shadow half the time - was guilty of murdering his own mother. Not unless there were some pretty major extenuating circumstances. It just wasn’t in Justin’s nature to do ANYTHING mean let alone violent. And, well, even if he did hear voices . . . Brian didn’t think that would have been enough. Besides, in the week they’d been together, Justin hadn’t exhibited any behavior Brian would consider psychotic. He hadn’t caught him talking to anyone who wasn’t there. Outside of the occasional panic attacks, the kid seemed as sane as the next guy. However, as Cynthia has pointed out, it really wasn’t up to Brian to make that kind of psychological diagnosis. For all Brian knew, the kid was a raving lunatic and had just been really good at hiding it over the past few days.

 

And what exactly was Brian planning on doing with the kid once they got back to Pittsburgh anyway? He’d been so focused on merely getting the two of them back home, that Brian hadn’t really thought things through beyond that point. Once they got back to the Pitts, he’d have to take Justin back to the hospital, right? The kid didn’t have anywhere else to go, as far as Brian knew and he wasn’t going to just dump him on some street corner, wish him well and then drive off. Assuming that Justin really did need some type of mental health care - whether he was schizophrenic, psychotic or just suffering some kind of post traumatic stress thing that caused the panic attacks, he still needed someone to help him - the best bet for him to get that help would be at the hospital, right? Brian certainly wasn’t equipped to help the kid. There were days when Brian wasn’t sure he could take care of himself. In that case, the hospital was probably the best place for the kid. So either Brian would have to take him back to the hospital himself or the cops would take him there after they ‘rescued’ the kid from Brian.

 

The question then was, how would he deliver Justin back to the hospital and at the same time keep his own fine ass out of jail? Damn he had one hell of a conundrum to deal with. The longer it took to get the kid back where he belonged, the more likely it was that Brian would get caught. And didn’t Brian have enough problems of his own - his company was about to go under, he’d fucked up the possible contract with Adam Dennison, he still somehow had to deal with the probably-stolen-RV he was driving and he was on the verge of financial ruin. He didn’t really need the added stress of a runaway, possibly deranged twink. No matter how much he’d come to care about the little neophyte. It was inevitable that the cops WOULD catch up to Brian sooner or later since Brian had every intention of returning home to his business and his family, so it wasn’t really a question of whether Justin would be taken back to the hospital, just when. And in the meantime, Brian really just did NOT need this shit. He needed to simplify his life not make it more complicated. And the boy definitely qualified as a complication.

 

The bottom line was that the sooner he could get the boy back to the hospital - or at least out of his own hair - the sooner Brian could get on with sorting out his own fucked up life. So, exactly how was he going to work this? Brian could just call the damn hospital and have someone come to get the young blond, or he could drop him at the nearest police station. Although that was a bit problematic, seeing as he was driving a stolen vehicle and, according to Cynthia, there was an APB out for his arrest. Brian didn’t want to be arrested the minute he drove up. But dropping Justin off somewhere wasn’t necessarily a bad idea - it just couldn’t be at the police station or anywhere else the cops were likely to be looking for him.

 

Right as Brian reached this conclusion, he came up on a road sign announcing that they were now entering St. Joseph, Missouri, population 77,147. Brian followed the signs that would take him to the cut off that would eventually land him on highway 36 East - the route he’d settled on earlier that would eventually get him to the Pitts via a more southern, less travelled, route than the interstate. Right before the first exit he came to once he was on the cutoff, there was the usual spate of signs indicating the services available on the side streets - gas stations, restaurants and parks. One sign in particular caught his immediate attention, though - the big blue sign indicating that the local Greyhound Bus Station was just off this exit. On an impulse, Brian pulled off the highway and headed in the direction indicated for the bus depot.

 

The Bus Station wasn’t a bad alternative place to leave the kid, right? It wasn’t like he’d be just be out on the streets somewhere. At least in a well travelled bus station, in the middle of the day, Brian figured that Justin would be safe. It also meant that Brian wasn’t actually turning the kid in to the police station or some hospital. It meant that Justin would at least have a choice about where he went next. If the kid didn’t want to go back to a mental hospital, he could get on a bus and go somewhere else. Brian would make sure he left him with whatever money was still unspent from the Fair drawing gig. With that, Justin could conceivably go wherever he wanted. He wouldn’t HAVE to go back to Pittsburgh or that hospital if he didn’t want to.

 

It was the best possible solution, right? Brian would be rid of all responsibility for the kid. He would be able to legitimately tell the cops that as soon as he found out about Justin being officially wanted by the police they had gone their own separate ways and that he therefore wasn’t guilty of helping the escapee. That should get him out of at least a little of the legal hot water he was in. And the kid could go wherever he wanted. Or, if he didn’t want to go anywhere, Brian was sure that someone at the Bus Depot would help Justin - they might call the cops and turn the boy in, but it wouldn’t be on Brian’s conscience.

 

Brian pulled the RV into the Greyhound station lot about five minutes later. He had to take up four parking spaces with the huge vehicle, but that seemed the least of his worries. Brian picked up the backpack the boy had been using and surreptitiously carried it to the back where he stuffed in a few changes of clothing and then zipped all the cash he had on him into the small front pocket. When he came back out, Justin was already waiting next to the door.

 

“I need to stop and make a few phone calls, Sunshine. Why don’t you bring your sketchbook. You can draw while you wait for me inside.” Brian suggested, leading the boy down the steps and out the RV’s door.

 

Justin followed him without complaint as they walked in through the sliding glass doors at the front of the station. Inside, there were rows and rows of hard brown molded plastic chairs connected by metal frames. Brian led the boy over to an out of the way row and tossed the backpack on a free seat.

 

“I’ve . . . I’ve got to make those phone calls. Stay here . . . If you want, I put some money in the pocket of your backpack - there’s some vending machines over there where you can get food or drinks.

 

Justin looked at Brian with confusion. “I don’t need any money, Brian. I’m not hungry yet. We can make sandwiches in the RV later for lunch.”

 

“Well . . . Uh . . . just in case, the money’s there.” Brian was fumbling around, trying to figure out what to say, shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot.

 

Brian’s nervous behavior wasn’t lost on the boy. Justin started chewing at his full lower lip - a sure sign that he was feeling anxious, too. Brian found he couldn’t look Justin in the eye.

 

“You’re not going to be long, are you?” Justin finally asked when Brian didn’t seem to know what to say.

 

“No . . . I won’t be too long.” Brian reached out and grabbed Justin’s hand, giving it one last squeeze and then, rolling his lips in so that he wouldn’t be tempted to blurt out anything too sentimental or too incriminating, Brian nodded and turned to go without saying more.

 

Justin stood there in place, watching the entire time Brian walked back down the aisle and out through the big glass doors. Brian could feel the expectant blue eyes burning a hole in the middle of his back. He didn’t dare look back though. He didn’t want to see the pain or the fear he suspected he’d see in those expressive blue eyes. As he was leaving, however, he couldn’t avoid seeing the reflection in the window next to the door - the reflection of a small-looking barefoot blond boy standing all alone in the middle of the big room and looking around him as if he was lost.

 

Before he had time for second thoughts, Brian rushed out of the building and back to the RV. With every step he had to fight the urge to run back inside. He felt like such a shit. He also felt almost as lost as the boy had looked in that last glimpse he’d caught. He couldn’t stop the crushing waves of guilt from washing over him. But this was for the best, right? This was the only solution to get him out of trouble with the cops and at the same time give Justin a choice about what he wanted to do with his life. It really was the logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

 

 

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Back inside the Bus Depot, Justin watched as Brian walked away from him without looking back. He knew that Brian wasn’t going to make any phone calls - he’d seen Brian talking on his cell phone and he wasn’t so stupid or so naive that he didn’t know Brian could make a stupid phone call anywhere, anytime. He didn’t know why Brian was leaving him here, but he had a really bad feeling about all this. Justin plopped down into the chair next to the one where Brian had tossed his backpack, looked around him at the unfamiliar surroundings and all the strange people and tried to stave off the flickers of panic that were licking at the corners of his consciousness. Brian had said that he wouldn’t be long. Justin had to believe him. He trusted Brian. Brian wouldn’t leave him here. His boyfriend wouldn’t do that.

 

Brian tried to shake off the misgivings he felt even as he was starting up the RV’s engine and putting the beast into gear. He simply wouldn’t think about Justin. There was no reason for him to feel guilty or sad. Didn’t he always say that he never did regrets? Brian Kinney had to look out for Brian Kinney, right? And he’d done the best he could for the boy. Justin would be fine. Right? It was time to let someone else take care of the kid from here on out. Brian wasn’t some fucking social worker. He wasn’t a damn lesbo either - so he shouldn’t be feeling so fucking upset over this decision. It was a done deal and he would just move on, right? Right?

 

However, no matter how much he tried to talk himself out of it, Brian knew in his heart of hearts that Justin would definitely NOT be fine. As he pulled back onto the highway, heading towards Illinois and all points east, Brian kept picturing in his mind the couple of times he’d seen the boy lapsing into the beginning stages of a panic attack. He heard over and over again in his head all the slightly too naive things the boy would say - the way he had no defense mechanisms at all and would tell people anything. How could someone so utterly innocent ever be safe in this crazy, fucked up world. Someone was bound to take advantage of him - probably sooner rather than later. Which immediately brought to mind the too-handy orderly back at Brighton Hospital - the one he’d saved the kid from when the creep wanted to take the boy aside for ‘tests’. Justin was not equipped to handle any of that shit on his own. Was he?

 

Meanwhile, back at the Greyhound station, Justin was frozen in the seat he was still sitting in. He felt like the world was closing in around him. There were so many people around him now and he didn’t have Brian there to reassure him or give him that little bit of self-confidence Justin had come to rely on when facing new situations. The older couple sitting in the chairs across the aisle from him were whispering and the old lady actually pointed at him. Justin didn’t know what they were saying, but it scared him even more. He was shaking and felt a tear escape from the corner of his eye as he looked around, desperately trying to figure out what he should do. Where should he go? How long would it be before Brian came back for him?

 

“Excuse me, son. Is there something I can help you with,” Justin was temporarily pulled out of his escalating bout of panic when a kindly looking older black gentleman wearing a blue uniform shirt came up and spoke to him. “You look a little lost.”

 

“Uh . . . um . . . I don’t . . . I don’t know . . . My b-b-boyfriend is just making a phone call,” Justin finally stammered out, his voice cracking and betraying the edge of anxiety he was just barely keeping back. “It shouldn’t be long.”

 

“Is there a reason you aren’t wearing any shoes, son? There’s a rule here in the station that you gotta have shoes.” Justin looked down at his bare feet and then back up at the man with a clear look of apprehension on his face.

 

“I don’t like shoes very much, they hurt my feet, sir.”

 

“It’s not like I’m gonna turn you in or anything,” the man rushed to reassure the panicky boy. “I was just worried. Maybe your feet are going to get cold?” Justin picked up the backpack and started rifling through it, looking for his shoes, but clearly he’d forgotten them again. “Are you sure you’re okay, son?” Justin gave over looking for the non-existent shoes, looked doubtful for about ten seconds and then nodded very hesitantly. “Well, if you need any help, just let me know, I’ll be right over there, okay?”

 

Justin watched the nice black man walk away. He didn’t know what to do though. He didn’t know how long it had been but he was beginning to worry that Brian might not come back after all. Then what would he do? Where would he go? Justin didn’t know anyone. He didn’t even know where he was, really. And there were so many strange people. He wished that he could just go back to his home - to the house he’d grown up in. It didn’t matter that his mother was gone or that he’d be all alone. At least he’d be back somewhere he knew. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where people wouldn’t look at him and point.

 

Justin looked over to the big desk where the black man was now standing. He could see the man talking on the telephone. The man was looking directly at him while he talked. Justin didn’t like that. He didn’t like people he didn’t know talking about him. But there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t do anything. He could only sit there, rocking back and forth, worrying and getting more and more frightened the longer it took Brian to get back to him.

 

 

Even as he was barrelling down the highway at fifty-five miles an hour, Brian found he kept looking over his shoulder at the seat where Justin should have been sitting. It seemed so wrong that it was empty. The boy should be sitting there, sketching, reading one of the pulp fiction novels he’d scrounged out of the RV stores or even just clicking away at the computer. Everything felt so wrong all of a sudden. When the RV was forced to come to a halt a few miles later due to construction, Brian made the mistake of looking down at the floor next to Justin’s chair and saw the boy’s abandoned sneakers. He shook his head - not at all surprised that the kid had once again forgotten his shoes, but now even more concerned because he knew the boy was stranded in the middle of nowhere without even a fucking pair of shoes.

 

 

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Brian finally pulled to the side of the road after driving another 30 miles down the highway. “Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!” He pressed his forehead against the coolness of the steering wheel trying to collect himself. He just couldn’t do it. How could he be such an asshole? Justin was probably scared out of his mind being alone in that cold bus station for so long. He didn’t even have any shoes, for fuck’s sake! Not to mention the fact that Brian couldn’t stand the thought of some low-life stranger taking advantage of the kid’s kindness and naievity and subsequently pawing at HIS blond. Sweet little Justin was too unprepared for that. Not to mention that he was too beautiful and he had that absolutely perfect ass and he was so fucking adorable when he got excited about trying new ‘boyfriend things’. Brian just couldn’t bear to think of anyone else showing the kid those things. And if he just walked away like this, Brian would probably never see the kid again. That thought alone caused a stabbing pain to knife through his chest that definitely wasn’t heartburn.

 

“Fuck this!” Brian just could not do it. He couldn’t leave Justin behind like this. He didn’t care if the police, the CIA or even the whole Justice League was coming after him. He wasn’t going to let it end like THIS. If possible, he didn’t want it to end at all. There had to be something he could do to help the kid - some way to make this right. Even though it seemed hopeless, and he would probably end up in jail, Brian just couldn’t walk away from that sweet, innocent, young blond boy who had somehow snuck in under the wire and taken up residence in Brian’s previously walled-off heart. Nobody before had even attempted to scale Mount Kinney, but somehow this intrepid little blond had done the impossible and managed to conquer the previously crowned Brian Fuckin’ Kinney.

 

His mind made up - AGAIN - Brian put the RV in gear, pulled back out into traffic and at the nearest turnabout headed back to the Greyhound station to get his boyfriend, breaking every speed law known to man in the process.

 

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“Um . . . Can you help me. I want to go home, please.” Justin had finally worked up enough courage to approach the counter and the nice black man.

 

“Oh, baby . . . Well, that depends upon where home is. Where do you want to go?” the kindly man asked.

 

Justin simply shook his head, the tears now streaming down his face without check. He didn’t really know where home was anymore. He didn’t know where he wanted to go. He just knew that he didn’t want to stay here in this cold scary place.

 

Just then, though, Justin looked up and saw, in the shiny chrome frame surrounding the board announcing the arrivals and departures of all the buses, a familiar reflection. He spun around. About twenty paces behind him stood a worried and contrite Brian Kinney.

 

Brian sighed and looked down at his feet. He didn’t know what to say. He was just so relieved to find Justin still there and apparently all in one piece, even though he could see that the younger man was shaking with fear and tears were coursing over his countenance. He felt even more guilty right then than when he’d left. How could he ever make it up to the boy?

 

“No more phone calls?” Justin asked with a watery half-smile.

 

Brian shook his head and replied with all the sincerity he could muster. “No. No more phone calls.”

 

Justin nodded and tried again to smile through his tears. Brian simply held out his arms and let the boy rush into his embrace. It wasn’t until he had the boy wrapped up tightly, the kid’s head tucked securely under his chin, that Brian Kinney once again felt that things were going right in his world. He would somehow make this work.

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End Notes:

11/28/15 - So, now that Brian's had his little epiphany and decided he needs to keep Justin, how exactly are they going to get out of the mess they're in? You'll have to keep reading to see. J.S.T.

Chapter 19 - Aero Zepplin by samcdee
Author's Notes:

And the adventure continues . . . right after Brian makes up to his barefoot blond boy for almost abandoning him. How will they get out of the impending legal storm they're heading right back into, though? You'll have to keep reading to find out. Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 19 - Aero Zepplin

 

Justin was still sniffling and shaking more than a half hour later. Brian didn’t really know what to say. He felt like a total shit - still - and would have happily done anything to make it up to the boy, but he simply didn’t know what exactly to do. Comforting crying twinks was so far out of his normal comfort zone that it didn’t even have a zip code. And he’d been pathologically opposed to apologies since the age of about ten due to his own shitty childhood. But he knew he had to do something - he already missed the easy camaraderie they’d had as short a time ago as that morning.

 

“Sunshine . . .” Brian finally broke the silence and then once again faltered because he couldn’t come up with one single word to follow with. Clearing his throat, Brian bravely gave it a second try, “Justin, I want you to know that . . . Fuck! I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, Sunshine. Please bear with me. I guess I just panicked, you know. I’m in a metric fuck ton worth of shit and I thought . . . well, that doesn’t matter, but . . . I don’t even know what to say to you right now, Sunshine. Basic human emotions are not my strong suit . . .”

 

Brian’s monologue drifted off as Justin continued to sniff in sadness and betrayal. Brian could see that betrayal clearly every time he snuck a peek over at those expressive tear-filled blue eyes and saw the boy’s defeated posture. He needed to have Justin understand what was going on. He decided it was time to tell the boy the truth.

 

Taking a deep breath, Brian continued, “Justin, I need you to listen to me and try to understand what I am saying without panicking. Please.” At Justin’s nod of agreement, Brian began to speak, “The hospital thinks that I’ve kidnapped you and apparently they called the police. According to my friend, Cynthia, there’s an arrest warrant out for me - which means that they’re looking for us. The people at the hospital are claiming that you are dangerous to yourself and others. I left you at the bus station . . . well, it was mostly just to protect my ass, but it was also because I didn’t want to be the one to have to turn you back over to the authorities at the hospital. I thought that by leaving you at the bus station, it would be an opportunity for you to go where ever you wanted and be your own person. At least that way, you’d have a chance to decide what YOU want to do. Of course, as I was driving away, I realized that you were probably too scared to take advantage of that opportunity and then the thought of you being all alone and scared, really unnerved me. I realized that I . . . well, I care about you, Sunshine. I don’t want anything to happen to you. We seem to get along pretty well, you know. And, you . . . fuck it, you seem to fill a void that I didn’t even know was there in my life. So, that’s why I came back . . . I don’t know how we’re going to fix this shit we’re in . . . But I do promise that I will do whatever I can to help you and . . . and . . . and I won’t just abandon you ever again. But, I can’t promise that you won’t have to go back to the hospital for at least a little while until I get everything sorted out. I know that sucks, but I don’t know what else I can do . . .”

 

“I was so scared at the bus station, Brian, but I knew that you would be back for me. I just knew it. I listened to my gut just like you told me to.” Justin earnestly told the guilt ridden brunet, “But, Brian, I really don’t want to go back to that hospital. I didn’t like it there. I want to stay with you.  You . . . You make me feel safe and happy . . . and I never felt that way before. Ever.”

 

“Justin, can you please forgive me and know that I will never do anything like that again? I promise.” Brian wanted his blond to know that he was serious about this - and he would never make a promise he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep.

 

“I forgive you, Just Brian. Now, we need to fix this cluster fuck.” Justin said with determination.

 

Brian was completely startled by this declaration and the boy’s unprecedented use of so much profanity, although he was also just a bit proud of him at the same time. It also made Brian aware that Justin understood exactly what was going on and, even if he was afraid, he was ready to do what needed to be done. Brian just hoped he COULD fix it - and he silently vowed to do whatever he possibly could to make it so.

 

“Yeah, Sunshine. We’ll fix this clusterfuck. Somehow.” Brian stated with a smirk as Justin grinned one of his sunshiney best in Brian’s direction. All was right between them again.

 

 

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Once the wild wanderers had finally put the rustic charms of Missouri behind them, they crossed over into the Prairie State. Illinois was more of what they’d seen so far times ten. There were cornfields, cornfields, and more cornfields on top of that. But there were also lots of rolling green hills and big farmhouses decked out to display the occupying family’s middle-America, small town pride. Brian was NOT looking forward in the least to stopping in any of the miniscule hick towns surrounding them - he’d had his fill of homophobic encounters to last a lifetime. Meanwhile, Justin - who’d finally regained some of his usual cheerfulness - was again immersing himself in his Devil’s Box, soaking up as much information about the area as he could.

 

“OH. MY. WORD. Brian, I wish you could see this. It turns out that Illinois is a very interesting state,” Justin exclaimed excitedly

 

“Somehow, Sunshine, I find that hard to believe. But then again you can’t go by me . . . the only place I’ve ever been in the state is Chicago.” Brian was so relieved that the rapport they previously had was back. He’d never admit it out loud, but he really did enjoy these verbal documentaries that Justin frequently dispensed.

 

“That’s too bad, Brian. If you had gone to Champaign you could have visited the U of I campus and seen a Fighting Illini game - isn’t that a funny name: ‘Illini’? Or you could have gone to Peoria to visit the whorehouse Richard Pryor grew up in. I once saw that actor - Richard Pryor - on the television, but then my mother made me change the channel because she said he was a godless heathen. Ooooo . . . did you know that the Chicago Bears were once the Staley Bears?” Justin was animatedly recounting each of these facts as they caught his attention. “The team was organized in the city of Decatur - I wonder who ‘Staley’ was? Oh, and it says here that the ice cream sundae was invented in the city of Evanston as a way to get around religious prohibitions against going to soda fountains on Sunday’s after church.”

 

Brian had to smile at the kid’s enthusiasm. Honestly he couldn’t see what was so amazing about any of these things, but if it made Justin happy he wouldn’t deny him.

 

“It says here that Lincoln’s tomb is in Springfield. We’re not that far away, Brian, can we go see it?”

 

Well . . . there were always exceptions.

 

“I don’t think so, Justin. The only way we’re going to see anything related to good old Abe, will be by way of reaching in our pockets and pulling out pennies or five dollar bills.”

 

“Well, okay . . . I’ll just look at the pictures then. It’s kind of a pretty looking monument. See?” Justin swiveled the monitor around so that Brian could just barely see it when he craned his neck around for a quick peek.

 

 

While Brian wasn’t really interested in wasting any more time on tourist traps like some creaky old monument, he had noticed that it was getting close to dinner time. Although he’d relented about trying to find some way out of dealing with the legalities of Justin’s situation, he was more determined than ever to make some serious miles and get back to Pittsburgh where he thought he had at least SOME chance of fixing all of this. Brian’s main concern at the moment was trying to stay as far off the law’s radar as possible. However, he figured that they could at least take a little time out to have a good dinner, especially seeing as they hadn’t had any lunch other than the free samples back at the Superstore in Lincoln.

 

“Justin, I know you want to see more of the sites, but we really have to keep moving along. I tell you what, though, why don’t we visit Springfield long enough to have a little dinner?”

 

Well, it wasn’t exactly Lincoln’s tomb, but Justin was happy to stop for a taste of the local fare.

 

“Sure Brian, we can go to this place called Carter’s. It says here that they have the best Walleye in town. Mmmm . . . I can’t wait to taste it.”

 

“What the fuck is ‘Walleye’, Sunshine?” Brian really was NOT sure about letting the imp choose where they were eating - the kid would probably have them eating out of a shack off the highway somewhere.

 

“Well, I’ve never had it,” Justin admitted candidly. “But according to everything on the Devil’s Box here it’s the best fish ever made in the entire Mississippi River Basin.”

 

Brian gave a preemptive groan - he could already imagine the type of greasy, deep-fried gunk he was going to be subjected to - but he figured he owed it to the kid after everything else today, so . . . “Fine. Tell me how to get to this Wondrous Walleye Emporium of yours, Sunshine.”

 

“Just go straight down I-72, enter town on Dirkson Street and turn down South Grand Avenue.”

 

And before Brian knew it, he really did find himself standing in line outside an olive drab painted shack, right off the side of the main drag, waiting his turn to order greasy fish plus his choice of two sides and a cold non-alcoholic beverage. Yep . . . this is what he got for letting the crazy blond mental patient choose their dinner accommodations.

 

 

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Once they’d put in their order Brian and Justin seated themselves at one of the none-too-clean picnic tables set up in what was probably once a parking lot. Justin didn’t seem to care about the unsanitary state of the table. He just plopped down and immediately struck up a conversation with the young, thin, caramel-skinned man sitting next to him. It seemed that, as long as Brian was around to give his self-confidence a boost, the younger man didn’t have any qualms about talking to strange people. After shifting around on the uncomfortable seats for five or ten minutes while he listened to the conversation, the young lady behind the window was calling for them to pick up their order, so Brian got up to take care of everything.

 

“Here you go, boo . . . you want some hot sauce to go with that?” the young lady asked Brian cheekily.

 

“I think I’ll pass on the hot sauce, but I’ll take some extra napkins if you don’t mind.”

 

The brash young lady handed Brian a handful of napkins. Brian winked at the attractive young woman, spreading his charm around just because he could. Then he grabbed the tray full of food and carried everything back to the table where his adventurous blond was waiting.

 

 

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“This food looks great! I bet it tastes even better.” Justin smiled brightly before diving headlong into this new culinary delight. For the next several minutes all Brian heard out of the boy were a series of almost erotic moans, indicating the height of Justin’s ecstasy over his food. “Oh, Brian. This is SOOOOOOOO good. This is waaayyyy better than even the Devil’s Box said. Try it, Brian. Try it! It’s not greasy at all and the fish is moist and flakey and kind of sweet. Mmmmmm. It melts in your mouth.”

 

Brian took a look at his plate of fried fish. It did smell delicious. He had to agree that it didn’t look greasy from the outside and even the fried Okra looked edible. Certainly much better than what he’d get at the Liberty Diner, where the fish platter practically swam in an ocean of grease. Brian picked up a small piece and took a tentative bite of his food.

 

An uninhibited moan of pleasure slipped from Brian’s throat, “Well, fuck me . . . this is fucking delicious!”

 

A half hour later, Brian had not only finished his own order of Walleye, Fried Okra, and Creamy Cole Slaw, but he’d split a second order of fish with Justin. Brian truly had never in his life eaten anything that delicious. It no longer mattered to him that it was served out of a shack off the side of the road. It was food for the gods and it deserved recognition as such.

 

Going back up to the window where the nice young lady took orders, Brian handed over his card. “Is the owner available by any chance,” Brian asked on a spur of the moment whim. “I happen to be in advertising and I would love a chance to talk to him or her. I have never been so impressed with a meal in my life. And I think I could do great things for your little business here.”

 

“Actually, my Daddy, Clifford, is the owner. He works mostly out of the Decatur location, though. My Aunt Lula manages this site. She’s also the cook . . . Hey, Aunt Lula!” The girl hollered over the noise of the simmering steel pots and pans and the hissing fry vat. “There’s a guy here with a card who says he can do great things for you.”

 

Two minutes later, a rather buxom older woman shuffled over, wiping her hands on a towel as she came over. “Well, hello, Honey Child - you be one fine looking young man. And what’s this about you doing great things for me? Hopefully it’s with those sweet lips of yours,” the woman winked as she wet her own lips in an obvious invitation “Mmmmnm. You look tastier than a plate of my catfish, Honey. Course, we’ll have to make sure my husband, Jimmy, don’t find out about any of these great things - I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t approve. Hahahaha!”

 

Brian Kinney - a man who regularly engaged in public sex, who wasn’t averse to public nudity and who had engaged in so many wild sexual escapades that he couldn’t even remember them all - found himself actually blushing at the lustful way this woman who was old enough to be his mother was looking him over like he was the next item to be served up on her menu. “Ma’am. The name’s Brian Kinney. I’m in advertising. And since I’m not all that keen on taking on your husband, I’m glad to say that what I was proposing had more to do with sheets of paper in a magazine or newspaper than sheets of cotton in your boudoir. But, it could still be great for both of us. . .” Brian goodnaturedly flirted back, including a saucy wink of his own.

 

Brian and Lula spent the next hour and a half sitting on the picnic benches outside the restaurant and talking business while Justin busied himself drawing some more. It turned out that Carter’s already had a second location in Decatur and the owners were thinking of expanding even more. Brian didn’t normally work with such small enterprises, but he was just so impressed with his meal that he figured he could make an exception - and it wasn’t like he was overly busy right then either. Brian scrambled a little but managed to come up with two or three rather exciting advertising ideas right there while they were talking. Justin, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, got involved and sketched out some rough samples using Brian’s ideas. Lula was duly impressed and simply raved over their extemporaneous brilliance.

 

After a while it also came out that Lula’s cousin was a big wig working for Shaw’s Catering - which happened to be the management company that oversaw another restaurant chain that just happened to have multiple restaurants all over Illinois, Iowa, Indiana, and Michigan. Lula was so pleased with the ideas that Brian had come up with right there on the spot for her little business that she offered to pass his card on to her cousin. Brian promised to get something together for Lula and Clifford as soon as he made it back to Pittsburgh.

 

Before they could make good on their escape though, Lula hustled back up into the kitchen and rifled through a pile of papers underneath the register. When she emerged again, she was holding out a card of her own. Brian took it, noting that it was a guest pass offering the bearer a free drink at some local bar called ‘Zoobabies’.

 

“My son Trevor is a bartender at that there club. I have a hunch it’ll be your type of place. You give my Trevor that and tell him his Mama said to treat you guys nice or he’ll be in hot water come Sunday dinner. Now, I gotta get back to work. It was real nice meeting you two boys and I can’t wait to see what you come up with for our advertising.” And then Lula was gone and Brian and Justin finally managed to get themselves off that picnic bench and back over to the RV.

 

Brian looked at his watch and noted that it was now getting on towards nine pm. So much for his desire to push through and get home as soon as possible. He looked at the guest pass in his hand and was really tempted to just toss it and hit the road. They could at least get a few more hours of driving time in. But, not only had Lula been nice, she also had that contact with Shaw’s, and Brian could use every possible contract lead he could get. He didn’t want to offend Lula by not taking her up on her hospitality. So . . . it looked like they were going to this club. At least long enough to make an appearance. He just hoped he wouldn’t totally gag at having to spend some time in the typical breeder club you’d find in this kind of podunk burg. But what the hell - he’d do a lot more than just show at some breeder club in order to win a lucrative account for his fledgling business. And then, maybe, after their appearance, they could drive for a few more hours afterwards?

 

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When Brian and Justin pulled up in front of Zoobabies, Brian’s first thought was that this was definitely no Babylon. Justin, on the other hand, was feeling a bit anxious - there seemed to be a lot of people milling around and they were all being rather loud and rowdy. The noise coming out of the building, although muted by the walls, seemed incredibly loud to him. He really wasn’t sure he was going to like this place all that much. He already felt klutzy due to the uncomfortable shoes that Brian had made him put on before they left the RV. Justin inched his body even closer to Brian’s and clung to the taller man’s arm with a fierce grip. Brian merely patted Justin’s hand reassuringly and kept walking towards the building’s entrance.

 

The first thing Brian noted was that the alley apple building was in serious need of an overhaul - the old bricks were crumbling a bit in places and definitely in need of a power washing - the parking lot was as narrow as a needle, and the cars adorning it held little promise that anyone half-way decent looking was in attendance. But when they stepped inside, the scenery was completely different. The tables, chairs and bar were all fashioned from polished cherrywood. There was italian marble tiled flooring throughout the quaint little establishment. It was nice enough, Brian thought at first, although it looked pretty much like any club anywhere. Once he’d got a better look around him, however, Brian felt a smile break out on his face and his body relaxed. Now THIS was more like it!

 

Behind the huge bar that took up an entire wall of the building, there was an immediately visible glass and chrome display case containing a panoply of various types of lube, dildos and boxes of condoms. From what Brian could see, there were more dildos displayed behind the bar than bottles of liquor. That, in and of itself, seemed to portend good things. When Brian turned around and surveyed the clientele, he was almost ready to go back and kiss Miss Lula! She’d sent them to a gay bar! Probably the ONLY gay bar in the area, considering they were in the middle of nowhere. He knew there was a reason that he really, really, REALLY liked Miss Lula! Now Brian was even more committed to making her ad campaign the best it could possibly be.

 

Once he knew what he was looking at, Brian felt right at home. He grabbed Justin’s hand and led him through the throng towards the middle of the bar. As they passed by the dance floor Brian noted that it was small but functional. Of course there were the usual throng of hard gyrating bodies grinding against one another, which in Brian’s opinion was a very welcome sight. Brian was only slightly impressed, considering the fact that he’d been in bars like this hundreds of times. Justin, though, was looking around himself in awe. It was just like the dancing place Brian had taken him to that first night they’d met. The flashing lights and glitter raining down on the patrons seemed magical. All the beautiful men seemed to glow like dirty angels losing themselves in the music and the joyous atmosphere. The pounding beat of the music was calling to him. Justin couldn’t wait to shake a tail feather on the cozy little dance floor. He hoped that this time they’d get to stay longer and do more fun things than they had at the dancing place back in Pittsburgh.

 

“Come on Brian! Let’s dance,” Justin was bouncing on his toes and tugging on Brian’s biceps - all his anxiety forgotten now that he’d felt the driving beat of the music - trying to urge his boyfriend forward. Brian wasn’t quite ready to bump and grind, much to Justin’s disappointment. Instead, Brian guided the boy over to the bar where he took advantage of the free drink card and made sure to tell Trevor that Miss Lula had sent them. Trevor gave Brian a big luscious, white toothed grin and made sure they got the top shelf stuff for their free drinks.

 

 

 

Justin made a face at the awful tasting stuff that was served to him in the small tumbler. He’d tried a sip or two of the beer that Brian had been drinking throughout the week - which had providentially been part of the RV’s stores - but hadn’t liked it much. He decided he liked whatever this was even less. Brian laughed and instead ordered the boy a Coke, which Trevor supplied with another grin. Justin slugged the drink down and then turned to watch the dancers, his toes tapping to the beat, added to the occasional uncontrollable bouncing wiggle when the kid just couldn’t stand NOT to move any longer.

 

Eventually, Brian took pity on the boy’s obvious enthusiasm, grabbed his hand and led the kid out to the middle of the dance floor. Justin was deliriously happy. This was even better than the dancing he’d done back at the wedding in Portland. It felt so free. He closed his eyes and simply let the music take over his body, content to feel Brian’s hand on his waist or neck or arm, just so long as he knew Brian was still there protecting him. He didn’t even mind the unwieldy shoes he’d been forced to wear. It took a couple of song rotations before the twosome started to work up a sweat. When Teena Marie’s Square Biz started to play, they just couldn’t hold back anymore. Brian pulled Justin’s body in close to his own, grinding their hips together, holding Justin tightly and then kissing his lips with a hard-driven insistence. At first Justin was a little shy about Brian kissing him in front of all these people. But, when he looked around and found that they weren’t the only ones doing boyfriend things, he was able to relax a little and go with the flow. They danced and flirted shamelessly with each other - hands roaming, teasing kisses and shy smiles - all while giving their bodies a thorough workout.

 

After that, they danced and danced and danced, seemingly forever, only stopping to hydrate with bottles of water every so often. Justin thought about trying to warn Brian about how, according to his mother, this kind of dancing would lead to pregnancy . . . but decided that was probably another of those things Brian would tell him was complete bullshit. So Justin kept quiet and simply enjoyed the dancing. Much too soon, the club was beginning to close and it left Brian and Justin wondering what to do next. Honestly, there wasn’t much else they could do other than going back to the RV and calling it a night. The problem with that idea was that all the belly rub-style dancing he and Justin had been doing had both of them extremely turned on.

 

Justin, for one, didn’t want this night to ever end. He was a little worried about why dancing like this had made his willy so hard - it hadn't ever done that before when he had danced alone back home. He was only slightly reassured that it wasn’t something he’d done wrong when he noted that Brian’s willy was just as hard. The untried boy was also unsure why he felt all those squiggly feelings in his gut - like there were caterpillars inside trying to worm their way out. He didn’t know what to do to make the squiggly feelings stop and he didn’t know if he liked them. The only thing that seemed to quell the squiggling was when he pressed himself tightly up against Brian. But that only seemed to lead to other inexplicable feelings, like making his body feel all tingly and feverish. It was very confusing. Justin thought that it was a lot like what happened to him when he and Brian did those boyfriend things that Brian had been teaching him. He really liked learning all those things. Maybe this kind of dancing was sort of a boyfriend thing too? If so, he wouldn’t mind doing more of it.

 

Brian couldn’t believe that he’d just spent a whole evening in a gay club and hadn’t yet fucked anyone. That had to be a first. He knew he couldn’t leave Justin, though. Especially after what had happened earlier in the day. However, he could tell by the flushed look on Justin’s face that he wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with his own unquenched desire on his own. The boy was as fully aroused as he was, possibly more. Maybe Justin was finally ready to push himself a little further than the experimental experiences they’d shared so far. Brian decided it was time to get his randy little blond back to the RV. And then Brian would see what other ‘boyfriend things’ the brave little boy was in the mood to try.

 

End Notes:

11/29/15 - Ooooooo! You're so going to LOVE the next chapter . . . It's a biggie! In soooooooo many ways. Heheheh. Off to write! J.S.T. 

PS. The authors have no affiliation with Carter's Fish Market - Jazzepoet did grow up in the area and had so many fond memories of their Walleye, though, that we just HAD to throw them a shout out! If you're in the neighborhood, go check it out. We promise that you won't be disappointed.

Chapter 20 - Talk to Me by samcdee
Author's Notes:

This is a BIG . . . NO, HUGE . . . chapter! Be prepared. Lot's going on here! Also, it's pretty much ridiculously romantic so be careful and don't let the sweetness send you into diabetic shock or anything. Read on if you dare, and . . . Enjoy! J.S.T.

*****Chapter dedicated to our wise helpers in the LLLC! Thanks for helping with the smut! Remember, all of you are far above average!*****

Chapter 20 - Talk to Me

 

Brian’s ardor had cooled off a bit by the time they got into the RV and pulled out of the tiny-assed parking lot next to the club. It was really late, and he had already consumed a few drinks, although he wasn’t so inebriated that he couldn’t drive, he was incredibly tired. And he was still torn between his sense of urgency driving him to get back to Pittsburgh as quickly as possible and his more carnal desires. One thing was for certain, though - nothing was going to happen while they were still sitting around in the parking lot of this club. So, in the end, Brian found himself heading back onto the highway and driving east.

 

Justin, meanwhile, was quietly watching the road pass by as he looked out the window. In his mind, he was once more reliving all the fun they’d had this evening and wondering if he should say something to Brian about all those tingly feelings that made his tummy feel funny while they were dancing. This had been one of the best night’s of his life. He loved being with Brian. He loved the way he always felt safe and protected when Brian was near him. Even the scary, loud dancing place hadn’t felt so intimidating with Brian by his side. And he knew that there were a lot of troubles ahead of them - not the least of which was the fact that he might have to go back to that hospital - but he knew that as long as he had Brian it would somehow turn out alright. It just had to. Justin didn’t think he could bear to be away from Brian now.

 

They hadn’t gone more than five miles past the city limits when Brian felt another wave of fatigue wash over him. There was no way he was going to be able to keep driving tonight without the risk of him falling asleep at the wheel. Luckily, right about then, he saw a big brown highway sign indicating that there was a County Park off the next exit and the sign included the symbol indicating that there was camping at the park. That would have to suffice. He quickly took the exit and followed the rest of the signs to the park. When they arrived there wasn’t anyone at the check-in booth, so Brian just drove right on into the almost deserted park.

 

Brian pulled the RV into one of the oversized parking spots near the edge of the Park’s border and set the parking brake. This wasn’t like one of those fancy RV parks - there wasn’t any electrical or water hook up - but it was quiet, there were a lot of trees separating each of the campsites and they actually had a nice view of the lake. This was a lot more like what Brian thought ‘camping’ - even camping in what was basically an apartment on wheels - should be like. If they wanted electricity, he’d have to go out and do that thing with the generator again. But, since it was really late, he thought he’d just skip it for now. They could always do that in the morning.

 

Justin was still just sitting there in the second Captain’s chair looking sort of dreamy. The boy was even still humming the tune to one of the songs they’d danced to earlier. He looked so fucking adorable with that half-way sheepish grin on his face - and Brian couldn’t for the life of him even think up a different adjective to use other than ‘adorable’ despite how stupidly lesbionic that term was. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was because Brian was still feeling the last twinges of guilt for his actions back in St. Joseph, but before he knew it he had grabbed Justin’s hand, towed the boy up out of his chair and pulled the beautiful young blond into his arms where he proceeded to slowly sway back and forth to the song the kid was humming.

 

Justin smiled up at him with such a brilliant, glowing, incandescent smile that it didn’t matter that the only light inside the RV was the moonlight trickling through from outside. It seemed as bright as day to Brian. Before long Justin was getting into the dancing as much as Brian was. They were back to where they’d been on the Zoobabies dance floor - their bodies molded tightly together and their groins grinding hotly and dangerously close.

 

Justin’s humming was interrupted at that point by a deep body moan and the boy looked up at Brian with that look of pure sexual curiosity that the older man just couldn’t help finding endearing no matter how exasperating it was at the same time. “Brian, I know it’s probably not true, but my mother always said that dancing like this - you know, so close to another person and . . . well, the way you’re rubbing up against me and all . . . well, it’s another of those things that can get you pregnant. I know that all the times I danced by myself that it didn’t lead to that, but . . .” Justin once again verbalised one of his mommy-isms regarding pregnancy.

 

“Well, I’m not sure about that, Sunshine, but I do know it can lead to some more of those ‘boyfriend things’ we’ve been trying out . . .” Brian trailed off playfully. “And, like I told you before, in our case, there’s absolutely no way in Hell it could lead to either of us getting pregnant. You know what? Tomorrow, while we drive, I think it’s past time for you to use that Devil’s Box for a little sex education research, Sunshine . . . Your mom certainly told you a lot of crazy ass shit, didn’t she?”

 

Justin nodded sagely, looking a little saddened by the reference to his deceased mother. “That’s true. My mom DID tell me a lot of crazy assed shit . . . I guess I didn’t really believe most of what she said. But it was hard sometimes to know what was real and what wasn’t. I didn’t have anyone else to talk to, you know, so it wasn’t like I had any way to tell what was real and what wasn’t . . .“

 

“Can I ask you something?” Brian thought that this was as good a time as any to bring up the subject that he knew they’d have to breach sometime. “Did you . . . Did you really kill your mother, Justin?”

 

Justin froze in place.

 

Brian could see by the sparkling of the moonlight that Justin’s big blue eyes had teared up. “Yes . . .” Justin replied in a small voice that was barely audible.


“Was it the voices? Did voices tell you to do it?” Brian pressed even though he knew this conversation would probably cause Justin significant pain - but he just had to know the truth.

 

“No,” Justin answered right away, without any hesitation. “No, the voices, they didn’t tell me things, they told my mother things . . .”  

 

Brian was instantly relieved but he wanted to make certain. “So you DON’T hear voices?”


“No.”


“Your mother did?”

 

“Yeah . . . Yeah, they used to tell her things all the time,” Justin answered with a melancholy air of remembrance. “And sometimes it was just silly stuff, but mostly it was scary. That’s why she yelled all the time . . . And then, one night, she just screamed and screamed and yelled for help and she just wouldn’t stop . . .” Brian could feel the boy’s shoulders begin to shake and there was a stifled sobbing that Brian could just barely hear before the boy finally went on. “I didn’t go to her, Brian. I didn’t go to her. I was too scared. I just . . . I hid in the closet in my room . . .” Brian squeezed the boy tightly, trying to reassure him with his body since it felt like adding any words would simply be too jarring. “And then in the morning, when I finally came out, she was dead . . . There was blood and . . . and I didn’t know what to do . . .” Finally the quiet sobbing broke out into full-fledged, panic-stricken wailing.


After several long minutes, when the crying had finally abated a little bit, Brian finally spoke. “Justin . . . Justin, listen to me. Are you listening? That is not you killing your mother. That’s just her dying. You didn’t kill her. You need to stop saying you killed your mother, because you didn’t. It’s not your fault.” When Justin mutely shook his head in denial, Brian once again insisted. “Justin, It’s NOT your fault!”

 

“Don’t you see, Brian? It is my fault; I should have helped her when she was screaming for it. I should have saved her from herself, Brian!” Justin continued to cry uncontrollably “I was too much of a scared little coward to help my own mother, and because of that she's dead. She's fucking dead and I. Am. To. Blame.”

 

“No, Justin. No. People make their own pain. You didn’t cause that and you probably couldn’t stop what was happening to her. She was sick, Justin. You had nothing to do with that.” Brian found himself holding the boy even tighter, his hands feathering through the thick blond tresses, his lips leaving little consoling kisses on the boy’s temple and in his hair until the sobbing had died down to mere sniffles again. “You know what? This has been a fucking bullshit excuse of a day for both of us, Sunshine. I feel like I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster, and I don’t even do emotions. Let’s . . . I don’t know . . . Let’s . . .”

 

Brian looked around him trying to find something - anything - that would distract them both and give them time to rein in their raging emotions. The sight of the clear waters of the lake glinting in the starlight outside was the first thing that caught his attention. Moonlight . . . a stroll around a lake . . . fresh air and stars above . . . It was an idea. So what if it was a ridiculously romantic idea that Brian wouldn’t normally be caught dead engaging in. There wasn’t anyone around here who knew Brian, so there was no reason to worry about tarnishing his asshole stud reputation, right? And his Sunshine seemed like he definitely needed a bit of a break.

 

“How about we go take a little walk around the lake, Sunshine? I think the fresh air would do us both a world of good, besides I could teach you how to properly stargaze.”

 

Justin wasn’t quite sure what Brian meant by stargaze, but the walk sounded nice. And maybe Brian was right, a nighttime stroll could be just what he needed to help get his mind off of his mother. So he nodded in acceptance. Soon Brian had grabbed the old throw off the back of the sofa and then they were exiting their motor home and heading for the lake shore.

 

The stars WERE absolutely stunning in their ethereal beauty. You couldn’t ever see stars this clearly in the Pitts . . . too many bright lights and skyscrapers. But out here in the boonies, it was as if they had descended so low that you could almost reach out and touch them.


As they walked, Justin held tightly onto Brian’s arm, nervous that he might lose his way in the dark if they lost contact. Eventually, his hand slipped down Brian’s arm and, as Brian felt Justin’s fingers brush against his own, he couldn’t resist the urge to let their hands intertwine. He smiled as he chuckled to himself. No one on Liberty Avenue would believe this scene. Brian ‘Fucking’ Kinney holding hands while walking in the moonlight. He could scarcely believe it himself. This was even worse than Brian Kinney driving an RV or Brian Kinney going to the Fair. Oh, well. What the folks on Liberty Avenue didn’t know . . . wouldn’t bother Brian.

 

They walked quietly, hand in hand, for several minutes. When they neared the shoreline, Brian unfurled the blanket he’d grabbed onto a patch of damp sand next to the lake and then pulled Justin down to lie next to him on it. It was a warm night, so luckily there wasn’t any risk of getting chilled. And nobody else was around, so it felt like they had the whole lake to themselves. The moon was full and provided an abundance of light, which caused Justin’s white-blond hair to practically glow in the dark. And the way that the younger man was looking up at Brian from where he was lying on his back on the blanket, let his whole beautiful face be lit up by the moonbeams. Brian could see every feature perfectly delineated by the silvery light - the prominent, high cheek bones, the broad forehead, the turned up nose and those full, pouty, provocative lips . . . Brian simply couldn’t have resisted kissing those lips if he’d tried. And he really didn’t have any incentive to resist. So . . .


Brian, who was propped up on one elbow, leaned over and slowly lowered his mouth down until their lips were just barely touching. This first kiss was so fleeting it felt like a brush of butterfly wings. Then Brian felt his eager blond taking a bit of initiative. The boy kissed him back and added a tentative lick across Brian’s lips. He rather liked how bold the little imp was getting. As a reward for the brazen behavior, Brian pressed down and applied more pressure to the next kiss, opening his lips to allow the boy’s tongue access inside. And then he was thrilled when the shy nymph actually took the invitation in stride and began to explore inside all on his own initiative.


“Are you going to show me some more ‘boyfriend things’, Brian?” Justin breathily whispered from kiss swollen lips when he finally came up for air a few minutes later. “I have all these tingly, squiggly feelings in my tummy and . . . And . . . And further down it’s even more tingly . . . They started when we were dancing earlier - I don’t know why . . . But, I think I like them . . . And . . .  And . . . Oh, Brian!” This last exclamation came along with Brian’s hand reaching down to that spot ‘further down’ where the boy was feeling so much tingling, but bypassing the hard cock he found there he instead pressed evocatively on the spot behind Justin's balls.

 

“I would very much like to show you all about THESE boyfriend things, Sunshine,” Brian replied, nuzzling into the soft folds of warm skin at the crease between the boy’s shoulder and neck and revelling in the warmth of the slightly sweaty skin he found there. “But I'm not sure you're quite ready for the full experience yet . . .”


“I want to, Brian. I want it all.” Justin vehemently stated, and then he looked away, becoming shy all over again. “I-I-I read about anal sex in the Joy of Gay Sex on the computer . . . At first I thought it sounded kind of icky but then, after I looked at all the pictures . . . well, it didn’t look so bad. Those men in the pictures looked really, really happy - maybe even gay - so I’m pretty sure they were enjoying what they were doing. I bet they were feeling all tingly, too, you know. And . . . And, well, it says if you’re careful, then it won’t hurt as much. So, I-I-I really want to try that . . . to feel . . . to feel it all with you, Brian. I want to be your boyfriend in every way possible.”

 

The boy’s naivety was so fucking arousing that Brian found it hard to stop himself - to say what he knew should be said to caution the unwary youngster. “I want you to be absolutely sure about this, Sunshine. I want to do this for you, but I don’t want you to feel obligated or taken advantage of,” Brian tried to explain matter-of-factly, attempting to be as up front and honest with Justin as he could, even though it felt so odd to be talking about this stuff when normally Brian would have just fucked first and tried to avoid any and all discussion later. “This is not to be taken lightly, Justin. Once I pop your cherry, there’s no going back. And, no matter what I do, it will hurt a little. That’s a part of it. But I can promise that you will also feel pleasure like no pleasure you’ve ever felt before.”

“I know what I want, Brian. I’m sure. Really, I’m sure! And I don’t feel obligated - I feel special and safe when I’m with you. I know you’ll always take care of me. And I . . . I want to feel even more special. Because, if they make me go back to that hospital . . . well, I can't bear the idea of being separated from you, Brian, but if they do make me go there, then I want to have this to remember. I can hold this memory close to me whenever I get scared or feel alone . . . You . . . You're the only one who ever cared about me or about how I felt, Brian. So, I want to take this from you and then I’ll have you for always, no matter what they do to me,” Justin stressed as he reached up with one hand and softly stroked Brian’s stubbly cheek.

 

“If that happens, Sunshine, you know I’ll do everything I can to get you out of there. I promise.” Brian looked deep into the eyes that were shadowed by the shifting moonlight so that only a sliver of blue showed.

 

All the while they’d been speaking of these carnal delights, bits and pieces of clothing had been disappearing almost as if they’d melted away under the moonlight. In the end, they both lay naked under the huge full moon. Brian was even more blinded by the brilliance of Justin’s perfect pale skin once it was fully revealed. It made him want to run his hands, lips, and tongue over every inch of it. If the moonlight could kiss that silken alabaster expanse, then so could he. But the distraction of seeing Justin bared in the moonlight was short-lived as the boy’s continued worries brought him back to the moment.

 

“I don’t want to think about that, Brian. I know you said that I might have to go back there. Back to that hospital. But I just don’t want to think about that right now. Right now I just want to think about you and your lips touching me and that thing you do with your hands when you . . . when you . . . when . . . when . . . Yes, when you do THAT. Ohhhhh!” Justin whispered, with a growing edge of lust in his voice as Brian’s hands obediently slid back up so that the boy’s nice thick cock was firmly gripped in his palm.

 

Brian was almost overcome by the boy’s panting pleas and had to pause briefly to get his own libido in check. When he thought he had himself back under control, he let himself squeeze the twitching, pulsing dick in his hand a few times in order to coax out some precum for use as lube and then, reaching around to palm the full globes of Justin’s ass, he started to rub at the tight virgin hole that he intended to claim that night. When Justin’s panting progressed towards full blown moaning, Brian slipped his wet finger inside and carefully began to massage at the tight, ring of muscles guarding Justin’s untried depths. 

While his hands were otherwise occupied, Brian’s mouth left a trail of light, gentle kisses down the boy’s chest and stomach until he was finally able to nibble at the tip of Justin’s beautiful mushroom-shaped cock head. Justin made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a moan, and Brian actually giggled at the sound of it. As he did, the vibrations this caused brought about another soft moan from the now overly aroused younger man. Brian found that he craved those sweet, uninhibited and totally prurient sounds, and silently made a plan as to exactly how he would coax even more of them out of his oh-so-responsive partner.

 

As Brian continued to work his finger just inside Justin’s perfect little pucker, his other hand was busy flipping open the tube of lube. He efficiently squirted some inside the waiting pink knot and continued until he had spread a very generous amount on his hand and all around Justin’s hole. He wanted Justin to feel as little pain as possible and was determined to use all his experience and skill to prepare him as well as he possibly could. 

Feeling Justin writhing and flailing beneath him, Brian determined that it was past time to add another finger in order to move things along. He poured even more lube on his hand and, as he began to push gently but steadily with his second finger, he felt it enter just as he began to let his thumb caress the space between Justin’s sack and the prize he could barely wait to partake of. Another new sound escaped from somewhere deep inside Justin’s throat and it was almost Brian’s undoing. It was a combination of a squeak, a moan, and a whimper - and it was totally fucking hot and far more erotic than anything one of his more sophisticated partners had ever uttered. As much as he wanted to make sure Justin was ready for what he had planned, Brian knew that if he didn’t move things along soon it would all be over before it even began.

 

“Oh . . . oh . . . oh, Brian . . . Just . . . Just . . . Just Brian . . . I need . . . I need . . . something, Just Brian. I need something. I need you, Brian. Please.” The sweet little neophyte was so tongue tied and frantic with need that he could barely get a word out, and on top of that he didn’t really know what it was he was asking for, just that Brian was the only one who could supply whatever was lacking.

 

“You want my cock inside you, little boy? Are you ready for this? Do you need to be filled?” Brian growled, using every bit of his strength to maintain some semblance of control.

 

“Yes, Brian. YES!” Justin nearly shouted out his need as he reached down his hands, grappling loosely along Brian’s naked flesh, desperate to grasp at any part of Brian that he could.

“Okay, Sunshine. Just relax. I’ve got this. I promise I’ll take care of you. And, after tonight, no matter where you are or who you’re with, I’ll always be there with you.” Brian said as he reached over for the condom packet and, ripping it open with his teeth, offered the contents to Justin. “Go on. Put it on my dick.” When Justin hesitated, Brian smiled and gave a few more instructions. “It’s easy, Sunshine. You just take out the little latex disk, put it on the tip of my cock, and then roll it down.” Brian guided the boy’s hands and they effectively rolled on the condom together, turning it into another form of foreplay. “Rule number one - Always use a condom. No exceptions. Ever,” Brian added in the requisite safety lecture without ruining the mood.

 

Just feeling Justin’s fingers brush across his cock was exquisite torture. He didn’t think his dick had ever throbbed this hard in all his long and rather promiscuous life. Before he knew it, Brian had positioned himself between Justin’s legs and instructed the boy to put his legs on Brian’s shoulders. Brian normally preferred to take a trick from behind, but this was no trick. This was his Sunshine. Brian really wanted to see Justin’s face and look into his eyes as he took his virginity. That way he could make sure that he was doing it right and that the boy was truly enjoying it. When they were finally settled, Brian placed his sheathed cock at the boy’s most intimate entrance and slowly pushed forward.

 

“I-I-It hurts.” Justin panted out following a soft sound of pain. “Does it always hurt so much?”

 

“Sorry, Sunshine, but that’s always a part of it.” Brian rubbed Justin’s belly in a soothing motion, “Now, just relax and push . . . That’s it.” Brian spoke softly and patiently, guiding the boy through the process of accepting the sensual intrusion, and in no time at all he was able to slip his dick further into the tight and welcoming heat of Justin’s body.

 

After a few slow, careful motions, he found himself fully seated inside this new lover’s body. With extra care, he slowly began to rock in and out, increasing his pace and depth each time he felt the boy’s body relaxing just that much more. Finally, when he was able to glide along without any further resistance, he settled into a steady, relentless pace that should eventually bring both of them to the ultimate of pleasures. And, a moment later, Brian could tell when he managed to graze the boy’s prostate by the youth’s swift intake of breath and the startled, aroused moan that Justin simply could not hold back. Shit . . . His boy was so exquisitely responsive and tight that Brian wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last. Yes, this was definitely going to be one transcendent experience for the both of them.

 

Brian transitioned into a maddeningly slow, steady rhythm, allowing his novice lover to fully adjust to the feeling of being filled. At the same time, he kissed Justin’s sensuous lips on every down stroke, loving the way the blond instinctively raised his hips further to meet Brian’s thrusts. The more experienced, older man took this as a signal to speed up the pace just a bit. The driving pace combined with the moonlight above made their sweat covered bodies look like bejeweled works of art. Brian knew he wouldn’t last too much longer and hoped that Justin was truly as close as he thought.

 

“Damn you feel so fucking good, Sunshine,” Brian whispered as he continued to pump into the boy’s welcoming heat.

 

“Brian . . . t-t-the t-t-tingling in my t-t-tummy is getting s-s-strongerrr . . .” Justin panted “A-and i-it feels like my willy is going to explode.”

 

“That's a good thing, Sunshine! Don't fight it. Just let it all go. Just let go and come with me.” Brian instructed as he continued to angle into the lad’s prostate.

 

With a deep growl coming from who-the-fuck-knows-where, both men came simultaneously - Justin in between their two bellies, and Brian filling the condom embedded deep in Justin’s ass; both men shaking from their violent releases.

 

Eventually, Brian lowered Justin’s legs from his shoulders and collapsed onto the quivering mass of satisfied Sunshine. Gently he withdrew from Justin’s body, kissing him in the process to lessen the empty feeling that was sure to follow. Then they both laid back on the blanket and stared up at the stars while their individual heartbeats gradually slowed.

 

“Brian?” Justin’s hushed yet overjoyed voice eventually penetrated the silence that surrounded them on the lake shore. “I don't care if my mother was right and I DO get pregnant. I wanna do that again and again and again . . .”

 

Brian chuckled at the boy’s declaration. He had to admit, if only to himself, that he didn't want this encounter to be just another drive-by rumble in the sheets either. Regardless of how things had played out, he had come to genuinely care for Justin. And for reasons Brian wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge yet, he didn’t want to let his sweet (did he just use the term sweet to describe a man?) blond go.

 

“Well, Sunshine, I don’t think that will be a problem. In fact, I’m all in favor of that plan. We can definitely do that again . . . and again . . . and again,” Brian replied, emphasizing each ‘again’ with another tender, sleepy kiss deposited on whatever piece of skin he managed to find with his lips.  

 

Justin snuggled closer into Brian’s warm body and whispered in a barely audible “Okay. But, maybe after I take a little nap first . . .” before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

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End Notes:

12/1/15 - Well, we did a fabulous job for NaNoWriMo - even if we do say so ourselves! We easily met the 50k word goal, and in fact managed over 80k words in one month on this story! Go us! We didn't quite manage to finish the whole story, but it's almost there. So, please keep reading and we'll do our best to get the whole thing wrapped up for your as fast as we can. Thank you to all who have read, sent kudos or commented. You guys make it all worthwhile! J.S.T. 

Chapter 21 - Negative Creep by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Things are certainly heating up for our boys . . . maybe not in ways you'd like to see though. Hang on to your hats, folks, and enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 21 - Negative Creep

 

*Ahem* Brian heard a displeased male voice clearing its throat somewhere above him at the same time he felt something hard poking into his back several times. *Ahem*

 

Brian pulled the corner of the blanket down about two inches, which was enough to uncover his eyes. He still wasn't completely awake and it took him a minute or two once he was able to see to figure out where he was. The warm, pliant body that snuggled down further under the blanket next to him certainly helped jog Brian's memory. But all he could see of the man wrapped around him were a few tufts of white-blond hair that stuck up from under the blanket about an inch in front of his face. The only other things Brian could see from his current viewpoint were a stand of dark evergreen trees a couple meters away, a sandy swathe of dirt in front of the trees and a slightly dirty cowboy boot that was shuffling in the dirt and occasionally poking into his side to help prod him awake.

 

“Good Morning, Sir,” announced the cowboy boot’s apparent owner from somewhere up by the treetops. “Welcome to Clear Lake Park. I'm the ranger in charge of this facility and it looks like I'm also your wake up call this morning. You have five minutes to get yourselves up, pick up your clothing and everything else and get back into your campsite before I give you both tickets for littering, public nudity and - if that's your RV over there - failure to pay the overnight camping fees.”

 

“Sorry, Sir,” Brian answered in a raspy, half-awake voice. “It was really late when we pulled in last night and there wasn't anyone around to pay. As soon as we’re presentable, I'll come over and pay last night’s fee.”

 

“See that you do,” the cowboy boot’s voice admonished as it started to move out of Brian's line of sight. “And, since this is a family friendly park, just keep in mind I won't be happy if you two give any repeat performances of whatever seems to have gone on here last night.”

 

“Wouldn't dream of it, Sir,” Brian responded as he tried to get his brain awake enough to figure out how to move his body.

 

The idea of just staying where they were after he and Justin had made love on the beach the night before had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. They'd both been exhausted, sated and happy to just stay where they were all tangled up together on the lake shore. Brian had merely pulled the blanket over the top of them and they'd both drifted off to sleep almost immediately. In retrospect, it didn't seem like it had been wise. Not only had they had to endure the unpleasant wake up call from cowboy boot guy, but Brian remembered why it was never a good idea to sleep on the hard ground all night. His back was throbbing painfully and he was so stiff he could barely move. And, while there was a nice warm pocket of air trapped inside the blanket with them, the rest of the outdoors just outside their blanket was ridiculously cold. In order to get up, they'd have to leave the warmth of their cozy little nest, run naked across the shore area - which was now well lit up by the breaking dawn - struggle to find all their clothing and somehow get back into the RV before they froze to death. THIS was why Brian didn't do ‘camping’.

 

“Nnnnnmmmmhhhh. Brian, do we HAVE to get up?” the blond tufts of hair mumbled from under the blanket somewhere down by Brian’s shoulder.

 

“Well, that IS what the cowboy boot ordered, Sunshine. So I suppose we will have to follow it’s directions or it will come back over here and start poking into my back again. And they don’t call them ‘shit kickers’ for nothing. I, for one, would prefer not to get the shit kicked out of me.” That pronouncement caused the blond hair tufts to giggle, and those happy vibrations helped to wake up at least one part of Brian - a part that was currently trapped between his belly and Justin’s thigh - although that part wasn’t very interested in doing anything involving going out in the cold. “Down, boy,” Brian ordered his rebellious piece of anatomy. “Come on, Justin. If we go back to the RV, I can start the generator so we can have a nice hot shower, breakfast and then go back to sleep for a couple hours on a real mattress.”

 

“Hmmmm . . . that does sound more comfortable. I think I slept the whole night with a boulder under my right hip anyway,” the blond hair tuft seemed motivated enough that it started to wiggle and move around under the blanket. “But, how do we get back to the RV, Brian? I’m . . . I’m not wearing any clothes, you know. *hehehe* Won’t people see us? Naked? And won’t it be cold out there?”

 

“I told you, Sunshine, there’s nothing wrong with being naked. Who cares if someone sees you without your clothes.” Brian explained again.

 

“But . . . but . . . but they’re not all my boyfriends, Brian. I just don’t want other people to see me. And it would still be cold . . .” Justin had turtled his head up from under the blanket, but was still gripping its edge with white-knuckled hands.

 

“Fine, Justin. You keep the blanket,” Brian conceded chivalrously. “Just wrap it around you and you’ll be warm and safe from all the prying eyes. I’ll gather the clothing up and then meet you up at the RV. I think I’d better start the generator first thing if we want to shower and cook breakfast or else we’ll kill the battery. But, please, make coffee before you do anything else, Sunshine.”

 

Brian then threw back the blanket, exposing them both to the chilly early morning air and causing Justin to squeak before the youth pulled the blanket back around himself as quickly as possible. Brian chuckled and slapped the boy’s plump blanket-padded posterior with his palm as he painfully climbed to his feet. Brian stretched and yawned - not really caring over much who the fuck saw him buck naked at the crack of dawn in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere - before he stooped over and started to pick up the various items of clothing and litter around their little lakefront nest. Justin meanwhile gathered his blanket tighter around him, and ran pell mell towards the RV.


Brian took his time pulling his jeans on and then slowly ambled his way back up the short path towards the parking lot. It was now late enough that some of the other residents of the park were starting to stir. There was one older man who was out walking his annoyingly loud mop dog in the grass along the edge of the parking lot - Brian grinned at him and nodded as if he always took strolls around county parks at dawn while only half dressed. The man just stared and the little dog just kept yipping at him, so Brian continued on his way.

 

Back at the RV, Brian pulled open the hatch where the generator was and tried to remember how the fuck he’d managed to get the thing started that one time back in Oregon. Unfortunately, he didn’t have either Justin or the manual with him this time, and he hadn’t had any coffee yet either, so he was feeling even more mechanically-challenged than usual. He vaguely remembered he had to flip this one switch, and then didn’t he have to twist that knob . . . ?

 

Justin had made it back to the RV in record time. He promptly pulled on some clothing and then went to start making coffee as Brian had directed. He probably should have started right away on getting something prepared for breakfast, but instead he was daydreaming about the sensual activities of the night before. He could still feel Brian where he’d been inside him. It had all been so amazing. Brian had been amazing. And he was so gentle and sweet. Justin was profoundly grateful that Brian was his boyfriend and was so very VERY good at doing boyfriend things.

 

*Knock, knock, knock* The loud hammering on the RV’s door brought Justin out of his reverie abruptly. He jumped up from where he’d been sitting at the table and hustled over to the front where he leaned down and unlatched the door. Through the glass panel in the top of the door, Justin could see a man in a rather ugly, brown felt hat standing a few paces back with his legs spread in a wide stance and his arms crossed. The man had a quirky half-smile on his face but underneath that weird little smile Justin thought the guy was sort of laughing at him. Justin instantly took a dislike to the guy. He didn’t know what to do though, so when the man made a summoning gesture at Justin through the window, the boy hesitantly opened up the door.

 

 

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“Morning, Sir. I’m Officer Assum with the Illinois State Police. Is this your RV?” the brown-clad man asked Justin as soon as his head was clear of the door.

 

“No. It’s my boyfriend’s,” Justin answered but then fell silent because he didn’t know what else to say to this man who was now frowning at him.

 

“Boyfriend?” ‘Officer Asshole’ - as Justin kept thinking of him - sneered out the word with distaste.

 

“Just like I told ‘ya, Clyde,” the cowboy-booted park ranger who’d roused Brian and Justin earlier piped up from where he was standing a few meters away over by the trooper’s squad car. “There are two of them. This one and an older guy. Brunet. They the one’s you said you were looking for?”

 

“Don’t know yet, Bubba. This one here does fit the description of the boy they’re looking for. I heard this morning that they thought he’d been sighted over in St. Jo yesterday, but that don’t mean he couldn’t have driven out our way,” the trooper was nodding and looking Justin over as if he was sizing him up for an orange prison jumpsuit. “What’s your name son?”

 

Justin had been thinking the whole time the conversation between Asshole and Bubba was going on. There was no way he was going to let this local yokel do anything to his Brian. And, if at all possible, he didn’t want to go back to that hospital. So, there was really only one thing Justin could do . . . pretend again.

 

“I’m Cletus Wheeling. I’m from Rawlins, Wyoming,” Justin answered and then grinned at the officer with what he hoped was his most disarming smile.

 

“Cletus, huh? Funny . . . You don’t look like a Cletus to me,” Officer Asshole replied with a disdainful sneer. “You got any ID on  you, Cletus?” Justin shook his head. “Course not. Now, where is this boyfriend of yours, son? I’ve got a few questions for him.”

 

“My boyfriend ran off that way into the trees when he saw your car driving up because he thinks you’re going to throw his sorry ass in jail,” Justin advised, pointing over his shoulder at the thickest patch of trees around the park.

 

“He did, did he?” Officer Asshole turned to look over at the copse of trees, an avid look on his face as he contemplated the possibility of catching the fugitive. “I’m going to need you to step over here and wait for me by my car, Son. I’ll be right back . . . AFTER I catch your boyfriend.”

 

“Couldn’t I wait in the RV?” Justin asked, looking back at the warm interior of the RV where there was hot coffee waiting. “I think I’d actually rather stay inside. It’s kinda cold out here.”

 

“Son. Step away from the vehicle,” the police officer demanded and waited with a stern expression until Justin had complied before he entered the RV to make sure the vehicle was secure.

 

A minute or so later, the officer climbed back down the RV’s steps and emerged back into the bright June morning. “What did you say your boyfriend’s name was, son?”

 

“His name?” Justin echoed, caught out for just a second. “His name is-is-is Hank. Hank Pearson. He’s from Twin Falls, Idaho.”

 

“Yeah. And that’s about as likely as you being named Cletus, Sweetheart.” Officer Asshole replied with another deprecating smile aimed Justin’s way. Justin simply kept smiling at the man and he looked so pathologically innocent that even a hardened police officer couldn’t find it in his soul to doubt the boy. “Which way did you say ‘Hank’ went now?” the officer asked finally after staring the boy down for about a half a minute. Justin pointed to the woods again and renewed his sunshiney bright smile. Officer Asshole looked at the young blond with a confused expression for several seconds before shaking his head as if he was confused. “All right. This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to wait right here until I get back. You hear me?” Justin nodded vigorously in agreement. “I’m going to go round up your ‘boyfriend’ and when I get back here I’ve got a metric fuck ton of questions for the both of you. So you stay put right here. Okay?”

 

Justin nodded ingenuously and just kept smiling until Officer Asshole stomped off towards the treeline at the edge of the park. Justin looked around as soon as the policeman was out of earshot. Bubba, the park ranger, was still loitering nearby keeping a watchful eye on Justin.

 

“I hope he’ll be alright,” Justin said, pretending to be talking to himself and not the ranger. Then he looked up at the other man artlessly, as if just noticing that he was still there, and added, “Hank has a bit of a temper. He doesn’t really mean anything by it, you know, but . . . well, if he feels trapped he might get . . . you know . . . a bit . . . nasty?” Justin tried not to gloat when he saw Bubba look worriedly after his buddy Asshole. “Officer Asshole should probably have called for backup before he headed off alone after Hank . . .”

 

Bubba looked around him as if he thought he’d suddenly gain inspiration from the parking lot. “You wait right here! You hear me boy?” Bubba ordered with a growl when it didn’t look like he’d found any inspiration.

 

Justin nodded again obediently and then watched silently until Bubba had trotted off in the same direction as Officer Asshole.

 

As soon as the park ranger was far enough away, Justin ran to the side of the RV. “Brian? Hey, Brian!” Justin hissed as loudly as he dared. “They went off into the woods to look for you, Brian. Get in the RV and get the engine started. I’ll be right back!” Justin ordered.

 

“Justin? Justin! Get back here, Justin. We need to get the fuck out of here,” Brian hissed back from the spot where he’d been cowering behind the far side of the RV and hiding from Officer Asshole and Ranger Bubba.

 

Since there was no immediate answer, though, Brian simply darted around the front end of the RV and climbed inside. As soon as he was inside, Brian seated himself in the driver’s seat and started to buckle up. Through the windshield Brian caught a glimpse of a blond-headed streak of lightning running up to the state trooper’s car. He couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what the hell Justin thought he was doing. Brian thought briefly about going back out there and physically pulling his blond back into the RV so they could get the fuck out of there, but before he could do anything, he saw Justin reach in through the patrol car’s open window, pull out the car keys and then sprint down to the lake shore where the boy tossed the keys as far out into the water as he could. Two minutes later Justin was back inside the RV and strapped into the passenger’s chair, urging Brian to ‘Drive!’.

 

“What the fuck did you do, Justin?” Brian asked as soon the boy was seated.

 

“I threw his keys in the lake so he can’t follow us,” Justin stated as if it was not only obvious but entirely logical.

 

“Why?” Brian couldn't help but ask even as he turned the key in the ignition and smiled as the RV’s engine roared to life.

 

“Cause, if you go to jail, we can't be together,” Justin stated matter-of-factly.

 

“Shit, Justin . . . You are hard core!” Brian scoffed as he pulled the RV out of the park’s gates and headed them back towards the interstate.

 

“I know,” Justin stated with pride and a cheeky grin. “Now, just fucking drive already!”

 

So Brian did.

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“So, ‘Cletus’, what’s your next brilliant plan?” Brian asked as soon as they’d driven a few miles down the highway and hadn’t yet seen any police cars following them. “I doubt that our state trooper friend back there will take kindly to having to fish his car keys out of the lake. And we still have at least a day of driving to get us back to the Pitts. I just hope he doesn’t call out his buddies to hunt us down before we get there.”

 

“Sorry, Brian. I just . . . I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want that man to take you away or make me go back to the hospital. But I’m sorry if I messed things up even worse,” Justin apologized, chewing on his bottom lip with vigor.

 

“I know, Sunshine. I know . . .” Brian sighed. “Actually, I don’t really think you could make it any worse, so don’t worry. I just hope we make it home before the real shit hits the fan. Although, I’m not sure what good it will do us to be in Pittsburgh when it does hit. If we could maybe at least get someone at that hospital to listen to your story. Now that you’re not quite so overwhelmed, you could at least try to explain what really happened with your mother. The big problem’s going to be to get them to hold off on arresting me until after they take the time to listen. Unfortunately, most law and order types aren’t really big on listening. They tend to shoot first and ask questions later.”

 

“Do we HAVE to go back?” Justin questioned plaintively. “Can’t we just go somewhere else? Somewhere that nobody knows about me?”

 

“I’m in a lot of trouble, Sunshine . . .” Brian commented, trying to figure out how he was going to explain all this to Justin so that the boy would understand.

 

“That’s why we shouldn’t go back, Brian.”

 

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, Justin. I have to go back. I have a life there. I have family, friends, my son. I also have a business that I’m trying desperately to get off the ground. And I owe a lot of people a lot of money right now, so if I don’t get Kinnetik up and running soon, I’ll end up in even bigger trouble. I don’t see any alternative for me,” Brian rationalized.

 

Justin really wanted to trust that what Brian was telling him was true. He wished there were some other way for them to get through this mess. But wait . . . Brian had a son?

 

“You have a son, Brian? You never said you had a son. How come you never mentioned him before? How old is he? What’s his name? Who’s taking care of him while you were in Portland?”

 

“Slow down, Sunshine. Yes, I have a son. He’s three. His name is Gus. He lives with his mothers - my friend Lindsey and her partner Mel are his primary parents - and I’m sure they’re taking good care of him. And I didn’t mention him because . . . well, because I didn’t know how to tell you exactly - I don’t talk to people about him much. It’s something I like to keep mostly private. His mothers and I have a very unique arrangement - most of the time I’m only his father and allowed to see him when they need money from me. Believe me when I tell you it’s a pretty fucked up situation. I know I don’t see him a lot and I’m not really much of a father but I don’t want to just disappear on him either.”

 

Justin could feel Brian’s sadness as he talked about his son. Justin felt helpless because he couldn’t figure out what to do to make his boyfriend feel better. “We definitely need to go back then. You have to be there for Gus. And we have to fix that whole situation with his mothers. I know what it’s like to have a mother who thinks she knows best when she’s really just bonkers. I can’t imagine what’s it’s like to have TWO crazy mothers. But I won’t let them hurt Gus or you, Brian. So we’ll just have to go back, deal with the hospital people and then fix Gus’ mothers. And we’ll find you some money for your business, too.”

 

Justin thought about all of that - all the things that Brian needed to do and that he now felt compelled to do as well because he wanted to help Brian in any way possible. And it all of a sudden dawned on him that, for the first time in his life, he was thinking about the future. His future. And the fact that he actually HAD a future. For so long his mother and the small house they’d lived in had defined his whole world. There had never been a chance for him to think about any future because he just couldn’t see anything beyond the walls of that house. Beyond the limitations his mother had set out for him. She’d constantly told Justin that he wouldn’t be anything because he wasn’t smart enough or talented enough or brave enough. His whole life he’d been told what he COULDN’T do. There had never been a time where he’d been encouraged to even wonder about what he COULD do. Now, though, for the first time ever he was catching glimpses of some nebulous time called the ‘future’ and was starting to think about what that would be like. What he could do in the future. What he wanted to do to make that future better.

 

It was fucking frightening as hell.

 

But then Justin looked over at Brian and realized he didn’t have to face it alone. THAT was his future. Brian was his future. Or at least he hoped that Brian was his future. And he would do almost anything to help Brian. If only he was brave enough or bold enough to try. Well, there was no better time to start than the present.

 

“If I had any money, I’d give it all to you, Brian,” Justin announced as boldly as he could. “Maybe I could sell some more of my drawings or something. How many do you think I’d need to sell so you’d have enough money to fix your business?

 

Brian looked over his shoulder at Justin and smiled - a real smile that made the green glints in his hazel eyes sparkle - but didn’t say anything. When Brian turned back so he was once again concentrating on the road ahead of them, Justin could tell that the worried look was already back on his boyfriend’s face. Justin didn’t want to see that look in Brian’s eyes anymore. He liked the happy look much better. So maybe he would have to start thinking about that future that he’d never dared to contemplate before and figure some things out for himself and for Brian.

 

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End Notes:

12/10/15 - I think we're finally coming out of our post-NaNoWriMo slump here. And just in time to get to the really good parts of this story. Off to go write more! J.S.T.

Chapter 22 - Rape Me by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Brian and Justin are almost home . . . will they make it in time and be able to resolve all the problems waiting for them? You'll have to read to find out. Enjoy! J.S.T.

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Chapter 22 - Rape Me.

Brian had been seriously booking it all day. They’d only pulled over once, about two hours after they left Clear Lake, Illinois, in a little roadside rest stop. They’d stopped just long enough for Justin to make them something to eat and for Brian to ingest another half a pot of coffee. Brian knew they were less than a day away from home, if they could just keep going, and he had his hopes set on getting there before nightfall.

 

Justin had meanwhile been sitting there quietly, thinking and drawing and dozing off and on all day long. He was remembering, over and over again, the night before and the wonderful things that Brian had done to him. He was still a little sore, but that only served to keep the memories fresh. And the tender way Brian had treated him both before and after they’d had sex, made it all worthwhile. Justin was so in love with that man already, he could barely stand it.

 

Interspersed with those wonderful memories, however, were flashes of some of the other things he’d learned about his boyfriend. These reflections weren’t nearly as pleasing. Most notably, he couldn’t shake the thought of Gus’ mothers and their treatment of Brian out of his mind. How could anyone deny a child the love of a parent? Especially a parent who was such a kind and caring person as Brian Kinney? Furthemore, how could Brian be denied access to his own son? Justin was both angry for and at Brian. He was angry at Brian for not being firmer with those women who were supposed to be his friends. Didn’t they realize Brian wasn’t a walking blank check for them to fill in at will? Regardless of what those silly women thought, Justin promised himself that he would treat Brian with the love and care he deserved. And these thoughts just wouldn’t leave him even as they sped down the highway on the way back towards Brian’s home.

 

Unfortunately, their late night out dancing, combined with the poor night’s sleep that Brian had received because of sleeping rough the night before, meant that the tired brunet was flagging by early-afternoon. A couple of times Brian had even caught himself with his eyes halfway closed, jerking awake with a start. No matter how much he wanted to rush home, Brian knew he had to take a break or they’d probably end up in the ditch dead after he fell asleep at the wheel.

 

As soon as they crossed the border into West Virginia, just before they hit Wheeling, Brian pulled off at the first exit that indicated there was a gas station and restaurant. When Brian saw the huge, mostly empty parking lot that surrounded the truck stop, he had a brilliant idea. And, if this worked, not only would he get a well needed rest, but it might help Justin gain a little more self-confidence. Brian pulled the RV to a stop at the far edge of the large paved area, turned off the engine and then looked over at his silent blond companion.

 

“Sunshine, I’m going to teach you how to drive,” Brian announced matter-of-factly.

 

Justin’s eyes got huge and his mouth dropped open in surprise before he shook his head furiously. “Oh . . . No, Brian. You can’t do that . . .”

 

“Yes, I can. And I will, Justin,” Brian insisted, getting up out of the driver’s seat and moving around until he was standing behind the blond’s chair. With a confident grip, Brian physically lifted Justin out of his seat and manhandled him till he was in the driver’s seat with his hands nervously white knuckling the steering wheel.

 

Ten minutes later they were still sitting there and the only progress Brian had made was to get Justin to turn the key in the ignition so that the engine had once more purred to life. The older man had repeatedly explained what each of the pedals did and how to steer. Justin, however, was still just sitting there looking as pale as a ghost and practically frozen solid.

 

“Let’s recap,” Brian sighed as he went through the instructions for starting the vehicle moving one more time. “To start, press the brake down, shift into drive and then slowly press down on the gas pedal. It’s easy. Brake, gas, go! You can do this, Justin. It’s easy, right?”

 

“No. No, that’s hard, Brian,” Justin shook his head again, looking at Brian with a panicky grimace. “I-I-I can’t do it, Brian. I can’t. What if I accidentally press the wrong pedal and kill us or worse?”

 

“You’ll be fine, Sunshine. Now, just drive us to the other end of the lot,” Brian ordered.

 

“No!”

 

“Justin . . . It’s okay. I’m right here. You can do this. I know you can. It’s just brake, gas and go.”

 

Justin turned back so he was facing forward and examined the prospect ahead of him with a look of sheer terror on his face. Finally, with a look of resignation, Justin screwed up his courage and decided to try. First, though, he shook his hands out as if to get a better grip on the wheel. Sadly, as his left hand flailed around it accidentally came into contact with the lever that sprayed the windshield washer fluid and set the wipers going at full speed. And, while he was trying desperately to turn that off, he then hit another button that caused the RV’s super-loud Hadley air horn to blast away at its full 145 decibels - which was enough to scare the crap out of everyone in a half mile radius and, nearer to hand, caused Brian and Justin’s vision to blur momentarily as the noise was so loud that it caused their eyeballs to vibrate. Justin’s scream was almost as loud and lasted long after the air horn’s blast died away.

 

“I-I-I can’t! I can’t, Brian!” Justin’s shoulders sagged with defeat. “I can’t do this. I can’t do things like normal people.”

 

“What do you think you’ve been doing the past week, Justin?” Brian demanded, looking at Justin expectantly even when the boy turned a confused glance on him. “THINGS . . . “ Brian waved his hands in the air as if to encompass all the adventures they’d had on their trip so far.

 

“But I’ve only done those things because I’ve been with you, Brian. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t know how. And I would never have done any of those other things without you helping me.” Justin maintained.

 

“That’s not true, Sunshine.” Brian was adamant. “You followed me out of Brighton Hospital all by yourself - I never told you to do that. And after that you flew in a plane, you danced at a wedding, you’ve taken me on adventure after adventure while we drove across the country together. This morning you even outsmarted a state trooper, Sunshine. And you did that all on your own without my help.”

 

“He wasn’t very smart,” Justin qualified with a dubious shake of his head.

 

“No. He wasn’t very smart . . . But still, Justin, don’t you see? You can do anything you want. Anything in the world. ANYTHING. You just have to want to try. And I know you can do this too.” Brian insisted again.

 

For about ten seconds Brian thought that Justin was going to take a stab at it. The boy looked at his hands lying on the steering wheel and gulped a big breath of air into his lungs before slowly letting it out. But then, as he watched, Brian saw the shadow of all the doubts Justin had been subjected to all his life creep into the boy’s face. Brian could tell that the younger man really wanted to believe that he could do this too. But all the negativity his mother had heaped on him for the first nineteen years of his life were too heavy of a burden. With a sad little shrug of his shoulders, Justin let his hands fall from the steering wheel and he looked over at Brian with the most heartbreaking look of defeat.

 

“I think I need more time, Brian,” Justin whispered with an almost guilty sideways glance at his boyfriend.

 

Brian might have even argued with him if not for the momentary distraction of his phone - which was right then sitting in the cup holder on the dash - chiming to let him know he had a text message. “Okay, Sunshine . . . we’ll try again later. Why don’t we take a break and at least get something to eat at the diner over there before we get back on the road. If you go get us a table I’ll be along in a minute.”

 

Justin bolted - obviously more than willing to take the out that he’d been given - darting out of the RV and trotting across the broad expanse of the parking area towards the truck stop’s restaurant. Brian picked up his phone. The text message he’d received was from Cynthia, insisting that he call her ‘IMMEDIATELY!!!!!’ Brian sighed, not at all looking forward to whatever message his assistant would likely be relaying to him, since it wasn’t likely to be pleasant. He knew he couldn’t put her off any longer though. Brian had been basically incognito for an entire week now and the time when he could hide from his troubles in this fashion was rapidly coming to an end.

 

Brian climbed out of the RV, much more sedately than Justin had a moment earlier, and hit the speed dial for Cynthia as he slowly ambled across the pavement.

 

“It’s about time, Brian!” Cynthia’s greeting did not come across at all cordial. “Where the fuck are you? The police came to see me again this morning and they didn’t seem at all amused when I told them that I still had no real idea where you were.”

 

“We’re on our way back, Cyn. I promise,” Brian assured her. “We’re actually pretty close. I should be there by tonight . . . tomorrow at the latest.”

 

“Good. Because you have a shitload of shit to clear up once you’re back,” Cynthia seemed a little placated by the knowledge that Brian’s return was imminent. Of course that only allowed her to move on to discussing one of the other myriad of things she was worrying about. “Are you sure you’re okay, Brian? The police . . . they warned me AGAIN that this Justin Taylor you’re with is really unstable . . . They told me that he’s wanted for MURDER, Brian, and that he was only at that hospital for a determination as to whether he was sane enough to charge with the crime. They were really insistent that he’s dangerous. Are you sure you’re safe with him around?”

 

“Fuck, Cynthia! Justin’s not like that at ALL! Those fuckers have no idea what the hell they’re talking about,” Brian’s anger came through the phone line as clear as day and was enough to shut his assistant up. “It doesn’t matter though. I’ll . . . I’ll clear that up as soon as we get back, too.”

 

Brian stomped through the doors of the truck stop, looking around to figure out where the restaurant entrance was so he could find his little blond, while trying to figure out how to end this unpleasant phone conversation as expeditiously as possible.

 

“Okay, but . . . I’m just worried about you, Brian,” Cynthia went on, not yet reassured. “And, on top of everything else, you’re facing serious criminal charges now too. I just don’t know HOW this is all going to work out.” Brian’s normally unflappable assistant sounded earnestly worried, which wasn’t helping to assuage any of Brian’s own fears. “You know that you’re going to have to turn this Justin guy over to the police, right? And even then, I doubt you’ll just skate free without some major legal repercussions. You ARE planning on turning this kid over to the police, right?” When there was no immediate response from Brian, Cynthia restated her demand. “Brian? You’re going to take the kid straight to the police, right? Right?”

 

“Shit! Yes. Yes, of course I’m going to turn him over to the police, Cynthia. I don’t really have any other choice, now, do I? But . . .” Brian was just about to explain that he was first going to get a lawyer involved because he didn’t want to simply hand Justin over when he knew the kid hadn’t done what they were accusing him of, only that’s when he turned around and noticed that the boy had been standing behind him and had overheard at least some of his conversation.

 

“You . . . You said no more phone calls, Brian . . .” Justin accused, backing away from Brian with a devastated look on his usually sunny countenance. “You promised me Brian! You said that everything would be fine . . . but . . . but you were lying to me. You’re just going to hand me back over to the hospital, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” Justin turned and ran straight for the RV.

Brian had been too stunned at first to do anything - he knew instantly what Justin had heard and what he must have thought. When he finally gathered his wits, he hollered after the boy’s rapidly retreating back, “Justin. Justin! Justin, wait!” But it was already too late by then as the younger man had reached the RV. Brian started sprinting across the parking lot, waving and yelling to try to get the boy to stop, but already knowing that it wouldn’t do any good.

 

Getting into the driver’s seat, Justin shakily started the ignition. He tried to remember what Brian had said earlier about driving the mountainous vehicle; brake, gas, go. He moved the gear shift lever into ‘Drive’ first, then, before he had a chance to rethink things, Justin instinctively pressed his right foot down on the gas pedal, and the home on wheels took off like a shot. The initial shock of the RV’s power was enough to make Justin yelp. He was so intimidated by the machine that when he saw himself careening headlong toward a group of semi’s that were parked at the far edge of the paved area, his first instinct was to close his eyes and just scream. Luckily, he also jerked on the steering wheel at the same time making the RV curve in a sharp turn to the right.

 

The RV made a complete doughnut before Justin let go of the wheel completely. It then fishtailed, swerving back and forth a few times, before the monstrous machine collided head on with a nearby dumpster and finally came to a halt. Brian watched in horror as the scene unfolded - his only concern was that Justin was not seriously hurt. When the vehicle came to a screeching stop, Brian ran as fast as his weary legs could carry him, intent on attending to whatever Justin’s injuries might be. When he reached the wreckage, he wrenched open the door and scrambled up into the RV faster than he would have thought it was possible for him to move, thanking a God he hadn’t believed in for years when he saw Justin sitting there, panting and looking scared but not otherwise injured. It seemed that Justin was only a little shaken up by the ordeal. Brian dropped to his knees, feeling weak as the relief flooded through him.

 

“Justin . . . talk to me. Are you alright? Justin?” Brian reached up one hand to grip at Justin’s knee.

 

“Brian?” Justin looked down at the man kneeling before him, his face still splotchy and awash with tears.

 

“Yeah, it’s me, you silly twat,” Brian responded affectionately, not being able to prevent the smile that spread across his face.

 

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Once Brian had got Justin calmed down and the RV pulled off to the side of the parking lot again, Brian led them both into the diner. They were still sitting there at one of the booths, Justin rubbing his bare feet together nervously under the table but neither one saying much. Brian wasn’t sure what there was to say. Justin was the first to break the silence.

 

“I’m so sorry Brian. I’m always making a mess of things,” Justin started to apologize, but then his anger resurfaced. “I was just so upset because I feel like you haven’t been honest with me. Was it all just pretend, Brian? Did you ever really want to be my boyfriend? Were you always planning to take me back?”

 

Brian turned to look out the diner window so that he wouldn’t see the disappointment in the young man’s eyes.

 

“No, it wasn’t ALL pretend . . . I mean, yes, at first I guess I WAS only pretending to be your boyfriend. But then I got to really know you and everything changed, Justin. You . . . you made me care about you in a way that I have never felt about anyone before. A way I didn’t think I ever could.” Brian had to look away from the intensity in the youth’s big blue eyes but he kept on talking nonetheless, trying to explain something that he himself felt was inexplicable. “I don’t want to take you back, Sunshine. But I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t have any other choice. Taking you back was the only way I knew of for both of us to avoid getting into any major trouble. Of course I was going to get us a lawyer first, but I figured we’d still have to turn ourselves in eventually. I had hoped that, that way, I could at least avoid going to jail, because I won’t be much help to you from a jail cell. But, unfortunately, I don’t see any alternative now. The police are probably already on the way after your little driving adventure, and . . . well, I don’t see any way to keep the people at the hospital away from you - at least for a little while,” Brian could see the tears starting to build up in the young blond’s eyes at this admission. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying to help you, Sunshine. I’ll do whatever I can. That IS a promise. Okay?”

 

“I don’t want to go back there, Brian. I don’t . . .” Justin reached out across the table and grabbed ahold of Brian’s hand. “I don’t want to be there without you.”

 

“You’ll be fine, Sunshine. I know you’ll be fine. You just have to be strong. And you have to tell the doctors what REALLY happened to your mother. You have to make them understand that you’re not really crazy. You’re not the one who heard the voices.” Brian insisted, trying desperately to get his point made before they ran out of time - and judging by the distant wailing of police sirens approaching the truck stop, their time was short.

 

“I’ll try, Brian. I’ll try . . . Am I going to have to live at the hospital for a long time, though?”

 

“I don’t know. I really don’t know,” Brian shook his head.

 

“No one’s going to know where I am. Nobody even cares where I am or what happens to me,” Justin finally let the tears overflow and drip down his cheeks.

 

“I’ll know, Justin. And I DO care,” Brian asserted, leaning forward so that he could look into the big watery blue eyes and hopefully convey his sincerity.

 

Outside, the sirens wailed even louder as three police cars barrelled off the interstate and pulled into the truck stop’s parking lot. Out of the corner of his eye, Brian could see that one of the police cars pulled up directly behind the parked RV. The other two came to a screeching halt right outside the doors leading into the restaurant.

 

“You’re not going to forget me, Brian, are you?” Justin asked in a hushed, doubting voice.

 

Brian smiled softly at the young blond and tucked an unruly strand of hair behind his ear before replying, “Not a chance Sunshine . . . there is no way I could ever forget you,” Brian conceded before he leaned across the table, supporting his weight with his arms on the table top, and moved in to tenderly kiss the beautiful, sweet, pouty lips of his favorite barefoot boy.

 

Which was when the glass doors to the restaurant were thrown open and four West Virginia State Troopers in their green on green uniforms stormed into the room. Out in the parking lot, Brian could see the one cop parked next to the RV talking on his radio - probably calling in the plate numbers - while he inspected the damage to the front end of the vehicle. Brian calmly sat back down on the bench seat of the booth and just waited for the inevitable.

 

 

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“Brian Kinney? You’re under arrest . . .” Brian didn’t bother even trying to listen to the words that were barked out at him by the fattest of the four troopers aiming their guns at the pair as they rushed up to the booth where he and Justin were sitting. Brian was more focused on maintaining eye contact with the now cowering blond boy. He wanted to stay calm and keep a cool head in order to show the younger man that there was nothing to be afraid of. It wasn’t easy, though, with the fat trooper physically pulling him out of the booth by his arm and then shoving him face down onto the ratty, unclean carpeting that covered the diner’s floor. He remained stoically quiet through the Mirandizing process and did his best to keep an unassuming air about himself. The only time Brian almost lost it was when Justin cried out - taken by surprise when one of the troopers grabbed his shoulder in order to lead the boy away - but by then Brian was handcuffed and wouldn’t have been able to do much to protect his Sunshine anyway, so his momentary struggle was easily quelled.

 

All he could do was watch, silently, as Justin was led away. The panicked look in the blond boy’s eyes as he strained to keep sight of Brian even while he was tugged out the door and dragged over to the nearest waiting police car, was heartbreaking. Brian could barely stand the look of abject fear and betrayal he saw in those sorrow filled eyes. He tried to smile and nod reassuringly to the boy, but knew that his effort probably fell flat. He himself had no illusions about the heaping huge pile of trouble they were both now in.

 

And Brian didn’t have any idea how he would fix things this time - if it even could be fixed - or whether or not he’d ever see his beguiling barefoot blond again.

 

End Notes:

12/13/15 - Yes . . . we were cruel and left you with a horrible cliff hanger. You'll have to leave lots of comments complaining about this brutal treatment. Meanwhile, we'll be off typing and working our little fingers to the bone in order to get you a resolution! J.S.T.

Chapter 23 - Pennyroyal Tea by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Sorry to leave you with that cliffie for so long . . . but because you were good, patient little readers, we finally have at least a partial resolution for you. Yay~! Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

Chapter 23 - Pennyroyal Tea

 

It had taken two hours, but Brian had finally been booked and was currently awaiting his official one call to an attorney. The West Virginia police were being complete asswipes though and insisting that his one and only call had to be local. Brian, of course, didn’t know a fucking soul in West Virginia. And who the fuck made up these stupid rules anyway? It was the 21st century, people! Why the hell couldn’t he call someone in Pittsburgh? It’s not like it was in another country or even that far away.

 

After about fifteen minutes of arguing - followed by Brian’s agreement to pay the fucking five dollars it would cost them for the long distance call - Brian was finally allowed to make his phone call.

 

“Melanie? It’s Brian . . .” Brian spouted as soon as the line connected and he could get a word in edgewise over Mel’s complaints. “I know everybody’s been looking for me but that’s not important . . . No. No, I’m fine . . . Well, yes, I AM calling from the jail in Wheeling, West Virginia - your caller ID isn’t wrong - but I’m not the one that you need to worry about. I don’t care what happens to me. I’ll be fine here for the moment . . .  I don’t need your services right away, Mel. I’m not the one who’s in danger. I need to retain you for someone else . . . Yeah, I need you to get on your legal eagle high-horse and go down to Brighton Psychiatric Hospital. Your client is Justin Taylor . . . He’s nineteen, blond, beautiful, and about to be railroaded into some kind of unwanted psychiatric lockdown for something he didn’t do. He’s the one who needs your immediate help, Mel. I can wait . . .”

 

 

Late on Thursday evening, Justin found himself once again sitting in the office of Dr. Gillcrest after the police officers had transported him from West Virginia back to the Brighton Psychiatric Hospital in Pittsburgh.

 

The whole afternoon after they’d dragged him away from Brian had passed by in a daze. Justin had been carted around in police cars for what seemed like forever. First they’d taken him to some local hospital back in Wheeling where he’d been poked and prodded until the doctors there declared him to be physically sound. Then the cops had taken him to a police station where he’d been toted from one office to another, had his fingerprints taken, photos taken and lots of other bureaucratic nonsense done - all of which required very little input from him, thankfully. Then, after all that was completed, Justin had been put back into yet another police car and driven for a long, long time until they’d arrived back here at Brighton where they’d started a week before.

 

This time though, Justin wasn’t almost catatonic with shock from the death of his mother. He was still a little disoriented after the crazy afternoon and he desperately missed Brian, but he wasn’t so overcome by his emotions that he couldn’t function. He knew he needed to tell the doctor the truth about his mother and the voices. He had promised Brian that he would so that they could be together. And he knew that it was also the only way he could help get Brian out of the trouble he was in because of the help he’d offered to the beleaguered blond mental patient.

 

So far, though, nobody was listening to Justin.

 

He’d tried to tell the police back in West Virginia that he wasn’t crazy and didn’t need to go to the hospital. He’d tried to tell the people at the first hospital they’d taken him to as well. He’d even tried to tell the people who’d been in charge of re-admitting him here at Brighton. So far, though, nobody had been willing to listen. He was getting kind of pissed about the way they were treating him, like he was either stupid, a criminal or both. And, by the time he’d been granted an audience with the all-mighty Dr. Gillcrest, Justin was just about out of patience.

 

“Dr. Gillcrest, I’m not crazy. I know you think I am, but I’m really not. Brian talked to me and explained to me that I’m not crazy . . .” Justin started off, explaining his reasoning once more, only to be again interrupted before he could adequately clarify things.

 

“Now, Justin. Mr. Kinney should never have taken you out of here. And he’s hardly qualified to make any diagnosis about your mental state . . .” the crotchety doctor pontificated.

 

“Brian didn’t take me out of here,” Justin insisted, finally letting his anger have free rein. “I followed him out after he saved me from one of the nurses trying to do bad things to me in the bathroom. And he wasn’t trying to ‘diagnose my mental state’, whatever the hell that means. All Brian did was let me talk and he listened to me. Then he told me the truth about what was happening to me, which is a lot more than I can say for you or anyone else here.”

 

“Justin, I know you think that Mr. Kinney wasn’t trying to influence your actions, but I’m not sure that’s true. You’re not really a very good judge about what’s in your best interest right now, I’m afraid. From what I saw when we had our initial session, Justin, I think you definitely need some professional help. That’s all we’re trying to do here - help you. Now, I suggest you go back to your room and try to get some rest. I’ll send a nurse in with some medication for you that will help you sleep. And then we can talk some more tomorrow morning, once you’re a little bit calmer.”

 

“I don’t want any medication and I don’t want to go back to that room. I don’t want that dumb nurse touching me. And I don’t need to calm down. I just need to see Brian!” Justin demanded, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to maintain some semblance of control over his emotions before he started to totally panic.  

 

Just as Dr. Gillcrest opened his mouth to further elucidate as to why, in his professional opinion, Justin’s desires had no bearing on anything, there was a loud knock on the door, and a petite dark haired woman, dressed in a professional-looking pant suit, barged in. “Hello, Doctor. I’m Melanie Marcus, and I’ve been retained as Justin Taylor’s attorney.” She handed the gaping doctor a business card and then proceeded to move around the office until she was hovering protectively over the fidgeting blond boy. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with my client alone for a moment, Doctor.”

 

“I-I-I don’t think that’s advisable, Ms . . .” Gillcrest looked down at the card in his hand, “Ms. Marcus. Mr. Taylor is currently under my medical care and I haven’t yet had a chance to fully evaluate his condition. From what we’ve been told by the police, it’s probable that Mr. Taylor is unstable and possibly even psychotic. I simply can not allow you to be left alone with a potentially violent, mentally unstable patient, Ms. Marcus.”

 

“I. AM. NOT. FUCKING. VIOLENT!” Justin protested vehemently, swiping his arm at the same time across the edge of the doctor’s desk and knocking all the objects he came into contact with to the floor.

 

Melanie took a step back, a little startled by the outburst, but then remembered what Brian had told her. She squared her shoulders and turned back to confront Gillcrest, the full extent of her bull-dyke lawyerliness flaring out over the entire room. “Doctor. As far as I know, Mr. Taylor has not yet been either formally charged with any crime nor adjudicated as being incompetent. And, until such time as he has been determined - by a court of law - to be unable to participate in his own defense, he is entitled to the same legal rights as any other citizen of this country. So, until you can prove to me otherwise, Mr. Taylor is entitled to the benefit of counsel. Which means, that I’m fully within my rights to demand that I be given access to my client - in private - so that I can advise him accordingly. If you disagree with any of that, you’ll have to get a judge to issue an order to stop me. And, in the meantime, I suggest you get the fuck out of my way and don’t try and keep me away from my client unless you want to get slapped with a lawsuit yourself, DOCTOR Gillcrest.”

 

Gillcrest sputtered and protested a little while longer, but in the end he gave up and not-so-graciously allowed the lawyer and her client to have his personal office in which to meet for a time.

 

“Sorry about that, Justin,” Mel finally turned toward the cowering boy and let her lawyer’s frown be replaced by a genuine smile. “I didn’t mean to come off so cold and harsh - that’s just the lawyer in me. My name’s Melanie. You can call me ‘Mel’. I’m a friend of Brian’s. He called me and basically ordered me to get down here to help you as soon as possible. Are you okay?”

 

“I . . . I don’t know. Nobody will listen to me. I’ve been trying to tell them what Brian said . . .” Justin hesitated, still not very comfortable around strangers, even if this woman was a stranger that said Brian had called her.

 

“I know this all seems a bit overwhelming, Justin. I’m sorry you have to deal with any of this at all,” Mel started off, sitting in the spare office chair next to the nervous boy. “While I was waiting for you to be extradited and transported to Pittsburgh, though, I had time to do a little bit of research into your situation. I was able to get a copy of the police report from when they first came and took you into custody as well as a copy of the Medical Examiner’s report. Using that information, I did a quick online background search on your mother. My research turned up some very interesting information . . .”

 

Mel paused and waited a moment while Justin visibly pulled himself back together. Justin slowly quieted and settled into his chair more comfortably. When the youth seemed to have his emotions back under control, she continued.

 

“First of all, there are some huge fucking discrepancies surrounding the case built against you for your mother’s death. The police officers who were first on the scene at your house were total newbies and had no real experience with this kind of thing. I think it’s pretty obvious that they jumped the gun. They based their whole suspicion of you on the fact that when they arrived you were sitting next to your mother, covered in her blood and that there appeared to be signs of a struggle. That, along with the note you left for the mailman and your subsequent apparent confession to ‘Dr. Donothing’ here, are all they have to go on. However, the preliminary report from the Medical Examiner indicates pretty clearly that your mother’s death was a suicide,” Mel pulled a copy of the report out of the file she had in her brief case. “See here? The ME clearly states that the wounds on her wrists and abdomen were self-inflicted. Add to that the medical history which the ME was able to dig up that indicated your mother had a long history of mental illness and had been diagnosed as schizophrenic in her teens, and the case against you pretty much falls to pieces, Justin. The only thing keeping you here is your own confession which, if Brian’s correct, you are ready to recant. Based on that, I don’t think these guys have any grounds to hold you here.”

 

Justin looked at the paper the woman - Mel - was holding out to him but didn’t understand any of it. What he did understand, though, was that she didn’t think that the doctors and the police could keep him here. Finally, after everything he’d been through over the course of this interminable afternoon, it looked like there was some hope. All he had to do was take back the words he’d said that made everyone think he’d killed his mother. Which was still hard to do, because of the tremendous guilt he continued to struggle under. However, Brian had told him he had to explain and Justin was determined to do just that.

 

“My mother heard voices all the time. It could be very scary sometimes. That night . . . I heard her screaming - she was calling to me for help but I was too scared. I didn’t go help her. I hid in my room . . . It went on most of the night. But then, after she was quiet for awhile, I went to see if she was okay. There was so much blood. . . I tried to stop the bleeding . . . Because I couldn’t save her, I felt as though I had killed her. When the police came, that’s what I was trying to tell them. I’m sure I wasn’t making much sense - I was just so upset. But I know now, thanks to Brian, that it wasn’t my fault. There wasn’t anything I could have done to save her from herself.” Justin explained as fully as he could.

 

“That makes perfect sense, Justin,” Mel reached out and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and the boy looked up at her gratefully. “All you have to do is say what you just said to me to Dr. Gillcrest, okay? I promise to make him shut up long enough to listen to you. That should be more than enough to get you out of here. And if that doesn’t work, I promise to personally call and wake up every single judge in the county until I get ahold of someone with the authority to release you who WILL listen.”

 

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By the time Mel had managed his release from the hospital the night before, it had been late and, since Justin didn’t have anywhere else to go, Mel had magnanimously offered the boy her guest room. The young man had been so grateful to the attorney for getting him away from the dreaded hospital that he hadn’t had time to worry about what came afterwards. So, when Mel had showed him into the small, kitschy guestroom, all Justin had been able to do was crawl under the covers and happily fall instantly asleep.

 

Waking up in an unknown place alone this morning had been a whole other experience. Justin’s general fear of strangers and anxiety about the unknown - especially the unknown outside of the small house he’d grown up in - immediately reasserted itself. It took him more than a half hour to work up the courage just to get out of bed. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he’d had to take a piss so badly, he’d probably still be huddled under the covers. However, once he’d visited the bathroom, he realized he was excruciatingly hungry, and then he couldn’t do anything other than venture down the stairs in search of sustenance. Hence, his current journey into the unknown.

 

Justin warily made his way downstairs towards the sounds of happy, chattering voices. They seemed to be coming from the rear of the small main floor. Justin also sensed a wonderful aroma of fresh baked yumminess of some kind coming from the same direction. He cautiously followed his nose from the landing at the bottom of the stairs, past the living room and down a hallway towards an open doorway near the back door.

 

Justin took a peek around the corner into the room and the first thing he saw was a young boy with dark hair sitting at the kitchen table chattering away with a tall blonde woman who was standing at the stove. Justin cautiously moved closer to get a better look at the kitchen’s occupants. When he got a good look at the young child, he was surprised to see the little boy looked so much like his Brian. So much so, that he was mesmerized by the sight. As Justin stood there and mentally catalogued every bit of the boy, the child looked up and returned his stare with an equal amount of curiosity. The young child gave Justin an innocent smile, waving his chubby little hand haphazardly, before he ambled over to Justin with outstretched arms silently asking to be picked up. Justin smiled back, crouched down, scooped the boy up and placed him comfortably on his hip. Gus then proceeded to lay his head on Justin’s shoulder, relaxing in his arms.

 

“Wow, you’re even more cuddly than a baby skunk or a baby piggy,” Justin exclaimed as Gus burrowed his head into the crook of Justin’s neck.

 

The quiet comment finally drew the attention of the blonde at the stove. The woman turned around suddenly and almost dropped the blueberry muffin she’d recently excavated from the muffin pan in her oven-mitted hand when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her. The sight of her normally shy three year old in the arms of this stranger was pretty shocking. Gus never took to people he didn’t know that quickly. It made the nervous mother wonder just what magic influence the boy was exerting. It was probably the same thing he’d used on Brian - who was notoriously even less inclined to form emotional bonds with strangers than her son was.

 

“Umm . . . Hello? You must be Justin . . . right?” the blonde woman asked, surprising Justin with her words even though he’d known she was there. “Please forgive me for sounding a little rude, but how in the world did you manage to captivate Gus so quickly? He’s usually much more reticent around people he doesn’t know.”

 

“I think I’m just naturally good with all kinds of babies,” Justin opined artlessly. “You should see what I can do with a box of Lucky Charms and a litter of baby skunks.”

 

“That’s . . . interesting, Justin . . . I’m glad to say we don’t have any skunks nearby, though. However, we do have a pretty stinky little three year old boy. So, why don’t the two of you come sit down at the table and have some breakfast. Gus, come to mommy. I’ll get you settled with a muffin and milk.”

 

Gus shook his head and refused to leave Justin’s arms. He simply buried his face even deeper under the fringe of Justin’s shaggy blond hair and tightened his hold around the boy’s neck. Justin, who didn’t seem to mind in the least, simply walked over to the table and sat down, situating Gus snugly on his lap. “It’s okay. Gus can stay here. We’re still getting acquainted.”

 

Lindsay decided - wisely - to pick and choose her battles, so she allowed Gus to remain where he was. Instead of fussing over her son, she fussed over the breakfast preparations. She deposited a basket of fresh baked muffins on the table and then brought over an already cut up and buttered muffin with a sippy cup of milk for Gus. Lindsay asked what Justin would like to drink and served him a cup of coffee with a generous dose of cream after the boy had voiced his preference. Then, for lack of anything better to do, Lindsay sat down at the table with her own cup of coffee and muffin and observed the interaction between her son and this enigmatic young man.

 

Justin immediately busied himself helping Gus with his muffin, taking bits and pieces from the plate and feeding it to Gus like a baby bird. Gus returned the favor by breaking off a piece of muffin from Justin’s plate and feeding the older boy that he found so incredibly interesting. Justin obliged, opening up his mouth widely so the toddler could shove the scrap of yummy food into his mouth. They were both full of giggles and effervescent joy for the rest of the meal as they took turns feeding each other.

 

Lindsay was very surprised, yet totally enchanted, by the sight of these two feeding and laughing with one another. She had NEVER seen Gus take to someone this quickly. Of course, she found herself almost as easily won over by the young man’s charm and innocence. And even though she’d already heard a lot of disturbing things about this boy’s past from her partner - things that made her hesitant to let the young man get this close to her son - she found she was almost as unwilling to resist him as Gus appeared to be.

 

“You’re just as sweet and cuddly as your Daddy, Gus,” Lindsey heard the boy saying, causing her to laugh outright at the incongruous description of Brian Kinney.

 

“Are you sure you just spent the last week with Brian Kinney?” Lindsey had to ask. “Maybe it was some other Brian. You know, one that was actually sweet? Because it couldn’t have been our Brian. NOBODY has ever accused our Brian of being cuddly. Not that he doesn’t have his own, gruff charms . . . but cuddly? Never!”

 

“Are YOU sure you’re not talking about some other Brian? Because MY Brian is smart, sweet, generous, thoughtful and the most cuddly person I know. He’s the best boyfriend on the planet and he loves me so much that he would do anything to protect me. He taught me all about being happy and having adventures - although I had to teach him about having fun, because he gets so worried about me all the time that he forgets. He also told me all about how much he loves Gus and I know he wishes he could spend more time with his son. He’s pretty much the most wonderful man in the world.” Justin couldn’t understand how this woman could call herself Brian’s friend, when it seemed she really didn’t know him at all.

 

“Yes, Brian Kinney . . . He was due to be transferred from West Virginia this morning . . . I know that, but I’ve been waiting on hold for more than thirty minutes now and nobody can tell me what precinct he’ll be extradited to . . .” Mel walked into the kitchen with her cell phone pressed to her ear, looking aggravated in the extreme by whatever she was listening to. “No. Don’t you dare put me back on hold . . . No. I don’t want to wait while you check . . .” Mel’s voice rose enough that both Justin and Gus cringed away from the note of anger. “Damn it! They fucking disconnected me. AGAIN!” Mel slammed the cell phone down on the kitchen counter with a scowl before she turned to the rest of the crew watching her and tried to school her features into a less aggressive look.

 

“Problems, Hon?” Lindsey asked, as she solicitously poured out a fresh mug of coffee and handed it over to her harried partner.

 

“Yeah. Those incompetent fools in the Pittsburgh PD couldn’t find their ass with both hands and an anatomy textbook.” She complained as she grabbed a muffin of her own out of the basket sitting on the table. “Nobody knows what the fuck happened to Brian after he called me last night from West Virginia. They can’t find his in-processing documents which means, technically, they don’t even have him in custody.” Mel plopped down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and continued to pick at her muffin. “Of course, once I’ve found him, we still have to figure out a way to get him bailed out, which won’t be easy seeing as Brian is a little short on funds these days.

 

“But . . . now that the hospital has released me, why would they still have Brian in jail?” Justin found the courage to speak up in spite of how intimidating he still found the aggressive bull dyke lawyer lady. “You said that the police weren’t going to pursue charges against me. You said your judge friend ordered them to let me go. So, why is Brian still in trouble?”

 

Mel sighed heavily before deciding on the best way to explain the complicated situation to the young man. She wasn't sure how much legal jargon Justin would understand, so she opted to keep the shop talk to a minimum.

 

“Well, Justin, the reason for that, is that Brian is being charged with a buttload of different violations, including Grand Theft Auto. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s also being charged with Obstruction of Justice.” Justin looked at Mel quizzically wondering if she would explain what she meant further. Mel saw the question in his eyes and quickly continued. “What that means is that Brian stopped the police from doing their job . . . or at least they think he did. They feel like he got in the way and want him to be punished for it. And even though the charges against you aren’t being pursued, because Brian took you out the state while you were under investigation for a crime, they feel like they still have grounds for pursuing an obstruction claim. Of course, it’s totally bogus, but knowing the Pittsburgh PD, we’ll probably have to go to court before we can get it dismissed. And, in the meantime, Brian’s stuck in jail unless he can find the money to post his bail. Which, based on what my contacts at the courthouse are telling me, is probably going to be at least $5,000. In other words, Justin . . . Brian’s fucked and we’re not likely to see his ass any time soon.”

 

“But I miss his ass . . . and the other parts of him too. I wish there was something I could do . . .” Justin pouted.

 

Justin lapsed into futile thought, knowing that he’d never be able to accumulate such a vast sum of money. He’d have to sell drawings for the next year or more to earn that much. And the only other potential source of income he’d ever even contemplated - giving hand jobs at $100 a pop - didn’t seem all that palatable anymore. But even assuming Justin was up for that means of earning a living, he calculated it would probably take him a long time to find the fifty or more takers he’d need to come up with enough money to free Brian. If only he’d had more practice with those other types of ‘jobs’ Brian had been teaching him about - he was sure he would have been able to earn the money faster.

 

 

“Uh . . . Well, if you really feel that way, Justin . . .” Mel interrupted his fruitless musings. “There is one other thing that I think you should know about,” Mel sat up straighter in her chair and, after a meaningful look at Lindsey to get her spouse’s tacit permission to broach the subject, the lawyer continued on with her one other big revelation. “Shortly after your mother’s death, the detectives investigating her death found a large manila envelope in your old house that contained a substantial number of legal documents. Among these documents, there happened to be estate papers and a will.” Melanie paused briefly before revealing the next part of her surprise. “You’re lucky that I have an in with an old college buddy who works at the precinct that took the original 911 call for your mother - he told me that when the documents were examined, it was discovered that your mother had a trust worth millions of dollars, all of which now reverts to you as her only heir. Sooooooo . . . if you’re really serious about helping Brian, the money shouldn’t be a problem, Justin.”  

 

“It’s more than not a problem, Ms. Attorney! Brian can have all of my money if he needs it. I might not be able to help him with his business, but if I can bring him home, then do whatever you have to do to make it happen. All I want is to have my boyfriend back.”

 

Mel and Lindsey looked at each other, a little disconcerted by the use of the term ‘boyfriend’ with respect to Brian Kinney, but neither had the heart to explain to this impressionable boy that he was suffering from delusions. It seemed cruel to disabuse the boy of his innocent fantasies about a man they knew would never return the sentiments this young man espoused. But, if he really did WANT to help bail out Brian, who were they to protest?

 

“That’s very generous of you, Justin. Of course, that’s assuming, that the stupid cops can actually figure out where they lost him. I’m going to call Carl Horvath and see if he can find out anything.” Melanie headed off into to the other room as she dialed Carl’s number, desperately hoping that she could finally start getting some real answers.

 

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End Notes:

12/15/15 - Not much more now before the big climax. Can't wait to see the boys reunited . . . but how will Brian handle the reconciliation? You'll have to keep reading to find out. J.S.T.

Chapter 24 - Opinion by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Rescuing Brian from the Pittsburgh PD . . . and whatever comes next. Enjoy! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 24 - Opinion.


Brian was roused yet once more from another futile attempt to get some sleep by the door to the holding cell clanging open and then shut again. Fucking assholes! By the time they’d finished carting him all over most of the West Virginia panhandle and significant portions of Western Pennsylvania the evening before, it had been pretty late. And, even after they’d thrown him into this holding cell in some unidentified Pittsburgh police station, he still hadn’t been allowed to just rest. The damn precinct they were holding him in must be one of the busiest in the whole fucking city. The traffic in and out of the the cell had rivalled Babylon’s backroom on a weekend. At one point there were sixteen men crowding into the small 15’X15’ space that only had seating for six, max. And, while Brian Kinney wouldn’t normally back down for anybody, he’d taken one look at the three hundred pound redneck with the swastika tattoos on both biceps and decided that he didn’t want to pick that particular battle - the gentleman in question grunted his thanks when Brian gave up his seat on the bench and moved off quietly to stand in the farthest corner.

 

Of course, the crowded conditions weren’t the only reason that Brian hadn’t been able to sleep. Part of his unrest came from the fact that the Desk Sergeant just happened to let on to the fact that Brian was gay when the cop had first thrown Brian into the cell. Like Brian had really needed the warning to, ‘Keep your fucking dick in your pants, cause we don’t allow no funny stuff in here, Faggot!’ Why was it that getting tossed in jail for the night didn’t seem nearly as hot or pleasurable as all those porn videos he’d watched? But, well, after being outed to his redneck cell buddies like that, Brian didn’t exactly feel comfortable enough to close his eyes even for a moment. Fucking Homophobic Pitts PD Pigs!

 

Meanwhile across town in Muncherville, Mel had finally gotten through to Carl. The helpful detective had eventually been able to locate the lost prisoner and had promised to look further into exactly why Brian had been so conveniently lost in the first place. Forty-five minutes later, Mel and Justin were walking into the correct precinct, with the documentation regarding Justin’s inheritance in hand so that they could finally bail out the dangerous miscreant otherwise known as Brian Kinney.

 

Even knowing where Brian was, however, didn’t make their task all that much easier. The Pittsburgh PD didn’t seem to want to give up such a hardened criminal. Mel had to exert a lot of her bitchy jewish dyke lawyer skills in order to get the reluctant Desk Sergeant to even admit they were holding Brian in their facility. And then there was a drawn out dispute over whether or not Brian was eligible to post bail without having to wait until he’d gone before a judge. When Mel had finally resolved that little legal peccadillo to Brian’s advantage, she still had to argue the validity of Justin’s trust claims with the bail bondsman before he would accept that as collateral sufficient to guarantee the bond. In other words, it was a very long morning.

 

By the time Mel made it back to the station house lobby, she was beyond stressed out and two miles past ready to get this whole ordeal over with. Unfortunately, Justin wasn’t where she’d left him and nobody seemed to know where to find the kid. Mel had been worried that the poor inexperienced waif would be hiding somewhere scared out of his mind and she immediately commandeered several of the station’s employees to find the little lost one. She probably should have saved herself the stress, though . . . After a five minute search, Mel finally located the errant blond boy sitting next to a rather haggard-looking Drag Queen waiting to be processed on charges of solicitation.

 

It looked like the friendly young man was in the middle of disclosing his entire life story to his new bosom buddy. “. . . my boyfriend. He’s in jail for kidnapping me, but of course that’s just all pretend ‘cause I wanted to go with him, you know. But the police didn’t know that, and now we have to bail him out of jail. But the good news is that I found out my dead mother - who I didn’t REALLY kill - left me bunches of money, so I won’t have to try and give a lot of hand jobs or blow jobs in order to raise enough money for Brian’s bail. I’m really not all that good at those kinds of jobs yet, although Brian was teaching me before he got arrested and all . . .”

 

“Oh, Sugar . . . with lips like THOSE, I’m sure you’re better at those kinds of jobs than you think! In fact, I’d be more than happy to let you try out your skills on me - I promise to give you an honest critique . . .” offered the lady, whose long blond wig was askew, sequined minidress was partially torn causing one breast to have become a little misaligned and whose makeup was worn away in spots with darkly smudged mascara and a hefty five-o’clock shadow marring what was left.

 

“Thanks, for the offer, Miss, but I don’t think Justin will need your services,” Mel interrupted, grabbing Justin by the elbow and quickly hurrying the boy away from his new friend.

 

“Hi, Ms. Attorney. Did you know that that woman is ACTUALLY a man? She? . . . He? . . . She even let me feel her willy to prove it. I didn’t know there were men who were women out here in the real world. Isn’t that so cool? You just never see stuff like that on television . . . or at least not the television my mother let me watch.” Justin was spouting as Mel hustled him along so quickly that Justin was nearly tripping over his feet.

 

“Justin, you need to be careful about who you talk to in a place like this. The people you meet here aren't exactly on a pleasure vacation, Sweetie. Most of them are not nice at all and they’re definitely NOT desireable friends.” Mel whispered a warning to her young companion as she hustled him down the corridor.

 

“That doesn’t make any sense. Miss Kandi Kane over there was very nice. And Brian’s nice too, even though he’s in this place somewhere too,” Justin tried to protest, standing up for his new friend, but he didn’t get time to say much before they were standing outside a mesh-wire gated entryway and his little speech was interrupted by the harsh, loud buzzing sound that rang out, indicating that the gate was being electronically unlocked.

 

The next thing that Justin knew, the door at the far end of the hallway was being pushed open and a very frazzled looking Brian Kinney was being led towards them.

 

Brian looked like hell. His clothing was rumpled. His hair was sticking up every which way, his eyes were red-rimmed and circled by dark, tired smudges, his cheeks were shadowed with two days of beard growth and his complexion was lined and worried and grey. However, as soon as the guard leading him out of the holding cell area moved out of the way enough that the prisoner could see the two people waiting for him at the end of the hallway, the careworn face lit up with relief.

 

“Sunshine! You’re here! Are you okay?” Brian was shooting out the questions even before the guard had let him through the final gate.

 

“Brian!” Justin was bouncing on his toes with anticipation as soon as he heard the slightly rough baritone of Brian’s voice - Mel had to hold the boisterous blond back with one hand or he would have rushed Brian’s police escort to get to his man.

 

“Shit! I’m so glad to see you, Sunshine. I was so fucking worried about you having to go back to that hospital,” Brian admitted, immediately wrapping Justin in his arms - as soon as the guard released his grip on Brian’s arm - and squeezing the boy so tightly that the youth could barely breathe.

 

“Yeah, yeah . . . Move it along, Kinney,” the guard ordered, giving Brian a shove to get him to move so he wasn’t blocking the path. “You two can have your little fairy reunion someplace else. Nobody around here wants to see that shit, faggot!”

 

“Oh! You must be one of those ‘good-ancient-boys’ whose necks turn red and who don’t seem to like happy people. You should move to Wyoming with the rest of your kind . . .” Justin looked at the guard with disdain before ignoring the big buffoon and turning back to Brian with a kiss. “He’s just lucky I don’t have a Mamma Skunk with me today or I’d show him what happens to anyone who talks mean to MY boyfriend!”

 

“You probably would, Sunshine,” Brian snickered, delighted that his shy little boy hadn’t hesitated for even a minute to stand up to the homophobic bully. “But, he’s got a point that there’s better places to have our reunion than in the hall of a police station. How ‘bout we move this reunion back to my loft?”

 

“Nice, Kinney . . . Can’t you even keep it in your pants long enough to say ‘Hello’ to me or to acknowledge my Pro Bono legal representation that helped to get you out of the slammer?” Mel commented from her place standing behind Justin.

 

“Oh . . . Hey, Mel. Thanks for getting my Sunshine out of the psycho ward,” Brian replied offhandedly to his lawyer as he curled his arm around Justin’s shoulders and began to walk towards the exit, his eyes never leaving Justin’s smiling face for long. “And thanks for bailing me out. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can . . . although I don’t know how soon that will be.”

 

“Lucky for you, I didn’t need to bail you out, so you don’t owe me anything, Brian.” Mel replied, following on the heels of the couple in silent disbelief over Brian’s words and actions with regard to this little blond newcomer . . . who she noticed had lost his shoes somewhere since the time she’d brought him into the police station.

 

“You didn’t?” Brian looked at Mel over his shoulder with a quizzical stare. “Then who the fuck did? I seriously doubt that the Pittsburgh PD just let me walk out of here out of the goodness of their homophobic little hearts . . .”

 

Mel simply tilted her head in Justin’s direction, causing Brian to freeze in place and scrutinize the younger man.

 

“Sunshine?” Brian queried, viewing the boy, who still came off as completely unprepossessing and naive, with an inquisitive eye.

 

Justin’s brilliant smile enveloped him. “Guess what, Just Brian? My dead mother left me bunches of money! Isn’t that neat? Here,” Justin tore the sheaf of papers Mel had been holding onto out of the unsuspecting Attorney’s hands and shoved it at the tall, momentarily befuddled Brunet. “It’s all yours. I hope it’s enough to fix your business, Brian. If not, I’ll work on getting up to speed with those hand jobs and stuff. Or maybe I’ll try drawing some more. I just know that somehow we’ll be able to fix things for you. Especially now that I know I won’t have to live at the hospital any more.”

 

Brian looked down at the papers in his hands. The title on the first page read, ‘Walter A. Taylor, Revocable Living Trust’. A little lower down on the page, Brian saw a figure with more than six decimal places in the number. Brian was completely overwhelmed by the implications of this pile of papers and his first impulse was to shove it all back into the young blond’s hands and run out the door. His impulse must have shown through to his aspect, because the next thing he knew, Brian felt Justin’s soft hands cupping his face with evident concern.

 

“Brian? Are you okay? Isn’t it enough money?” Justin seemed so worried. “I’m sorry if it’s not enough, Brian. I don’t know much about money and real life stuff . . . I guess I could get a real job or something to help you out some more if you think that would be a good idea . . . Hmmmmm . . . I don’t really know how to do anything though, you know. And I don’t even know where I’m going to live . . . I mean, I’m glad I won’t have to live at that hospital, but I don’t really want to go back to my mother’s house, either - there’s just a lot of really not nice memories there. But . . . Wow! I just never had to think about the future or what I was going to do . . . It’s . . . It’s . . .  It’s a lot to think about, isn’t it, Just Brian?” Justin’s attention drifted off into a hazy other-place where his frightening unknown future loomed up at him with such enormity that he was struck speechless.

 

By this point, they’d reached the front entrance of the police station and Mel was holding open the doors for the boys - watching Brian with unbridled curiosity to see what he’d do when confronted with such an overt display of sentimentality. Despite the fact that Brian had explicitly sent her off to help Justin even before himself, she was all prepared to see the Brian Kinney she knew shoot down this presumptuous kid and bolt. Wasn’t that Brian’s MO? No relationships, no regrets. How had he put it the one time Mel had asked him about his wanton lifestyle? ‘In and out with the maximum amount of pleasure and the minimum amount of bullshit’? Yep. That was ‘The Kinney Way’. And, unfortunately, this poor, unsophisticated boy really had no idea just how fast he was about to be kicked to the curb.  

 

 

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“Justin . . . I can’t take this,” Brian turned toward the boy as soon as they were outside on the sidewalk in front of the police station. “Thank you for bailing me out - I promise to pay you back as soon as I can - but I can’t take any more of your money.”

 

“Of course you can, Brian.” Justin seemed very confused by Brian’s refusal. “I told you the other day when we were driving that, if I had any money, I’d give it all to you. So, here. Take it. I hope it helps you.”

 

“I know what you said, Sunshine, but I just can’t take your inheritance . . .” Brian started to insist before he was rudely interrupted by an officious officer of the court.

 

“Of course Brian won’t be taking your money, Justin,” Mel asserted grabbing the stack of important legal papers back out of the momentarily speechless brunet’s hands and depositing them safely back into her own soft-sided leather briefcase. “Now, why don’t we just drop Brian off at his loft and then we can head back to the house. You’re more than welcome to stay with Lindsey and I until we get all the legalities of your trust worked out and you figure out what you want to do next, Honey. I’ll contact the attorneys that drafted these documents - who I assume will be handling the rest of the estate work - and let them know what’s going on. We should have the matter resolved in a few weeks. In the meantime, we can go back to your mother’s house and get your things together. Then we’ll help you decide what you want to do next.”

 

“But . . . But what about my Brian?” Justin questioned, looking at the man over his shoulder as Mel towed him away with a firm hand on the youth’s elbow

 

“What about him?” Mel began, dismissing Brian without even thinking about it. However, when she noted that Justin was no longer following behind her, Mel stopped and turned to look at the impressionable young man. “Justin, there is one thing about Brian that you need to know,” Mel continued, knowing that what she was about to confess to the impressionable young man would likely break his heart but thinking that it was her responsibility to educate the overly naive youngling. “I’m not sure who you think Brian Kinney is, Justin. However, I don’t think he’s the romantic hero you seem to have conjured up in your imagination. You see, Brian is not the kind of guy who’s interested in taking care of some inexperienced twink. To be completely honest, Brian’s a total slut. He is not the type to settle down with just one man, no matter how cute or endearing he might be. If you think that he’s going to take you in, offer to let you live with him or something like that, you’re deceiving yourself. And, even if he did something as completely out of character as that, sooner or later he would get tired of you and toss you away like trash. All you are to him is just another ass to fuck and a mouth to stick his dick into.”

 

At first Brian was ready to cave into Mel’s expectations of him. He didn’t have a lot of examples to use to dissuade her of her negative opinions about him. But then, as Brian watched Justin, he was surprised to see that his blond defender wasn’t buying any part of the hateful image Mel was trying to evoke. Instead, Justin was getting very angry at what Mel was saying about HIS Brian. The absolute trust Justin was showing in him, gave Brian more confidence in himself than he ever remembered having and he decided it was time for him to step in.

 

“Justin, please don’t listen to what Mel is saying,” Brian insisted, turning to look at the fuming blond in an attempt to convince him that his trust was justified. “Yes, I know I’ve treated other men in that way, but that’s not the case with you. I wouldn’t treat you like that, Sunshine. You’re different. I’M different when I’m with you. I swear it.” The blindingly brilliant smile that Justin beamed at him in response to his plea was all the reassurance that Brian needed before he turned to confront his detractor. “And, Mel, don’t you EVER speak to Justin that way again. I know that your biased views about me might have some justification due to my past actions, but that’s not all I am or am capable of. Besides, you’ve always hated me, so you’re hardly the most impartial judge. And you really don’t know anything about what the two of us have been through over the past week or how I feel about Sunshine.”

 

Mel rolled her eyes at Brian’s purportedly sincere declaration of his emotional attachment to Justin. From all the evidence she’d seen to date, she didn’t think Brian Kinney was capable of caring about anyone but himself. She couldn't understand why Brian was putting on such a show when he knew damn well he was not being truthful. It was one thing for him to put on airs to try and charm a trick, but Mel wasn’t going to sit back and let him seduce a sweet, unsuspecting kid like Justin. Especially not when it seem like the whole charade made her look like a fool and a liar. Mel was not going to let Brian get away with these lies - she was determined to come out on top in this little battle of wills.

 

“Oh, come off it Brian and cut the bullshit already,” Mel snarled. “You know damn well that you have as much feeling for Justin as you do for a snail crushed under the heel of your precious Prada leather boots. Why don't you do the decent thing for once and leave Justin alone - let him move on with his life. You can get your dick sucked somewhere else for once.”

 

“You know, Mel, I really appreciate your help on the legal front, but you’re still a total cunt.”

 

Brian was struggling to keep his anger in check as Mel continued to paint the most unsavory picture of him she could in order to keep Justin away from him. But . . . maybe she was right. Was he really the best candidate to help Justin truly become the man he was meant to be? Could he handle all the emotional baggage that comes with not only sharing your bed with someone, but your life as well? What did he really have to offer a beautiful, talented, unsullied young man like Justin? Maybe Mel was right and he really would revert to character and do something crass or hateful or insensitive - something that would hurt Justin? He’d only had one short week of experiencing this thing with the boy, right? And all that was while they were under very special circumstances - away from his usual life, his usual haunts, as well as the pressures of his job, his family and his friends. What’s to say he wouldn’t screw things up with Sunshine now that they were back in Pittsburgh?

 

While Brian was struggling with his self-doubts, Mel finally wound down on her anti-Brian diatribe, leaving both herself and Brian staring at Justin. Mel had set forth all the logical arguments why nobody should trust someone like Brian. Brian wasn’t sure she wasn’t right, but he still hoped, deep inside, that his Sunshine wouldn’t believe the worst of him . . . even when he sometimes did himself. They both knew, however, that the choice would ultimately be Justin’s to make. They’d each had their say, and now it was up to the boy to decide who he believed. Who he believed IN. Both Mel and Brian fell silent as they stared the youth down, trying to will him to make the decision that they each wanted him to take.  

 

Justin looked back at the two antagonists, his expression clearly showing anger but giving nothing away as to what he planned to do.

 

“Well, Sunshine. The choice is yours. Tick, tick, tick.”

 

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End Notes:

1/2/16 - Happy New Year to all our readers! Thanks for such a great 2015. And now, to wrap up this story . . . J.S.T. 

 

Chapter 25 - Love Buzz by samcdee
Author's Notes:

Everyone ready for the big happily-ever-after ending? If not, turn back now, because here it comes! Thank you to all our readers and to the LLLC for keeping us writing. Hope you all enjoyed the journey with our Barefoot Blond and his Just Brian! J.S.T.

 

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Chapter 25 - Love Buzz.

 

“Well, Sunshine. The choice is yours. Tick, tick, tick.”

 

Justin was angry, confused and scared. So much had happened to him in the past week and he hadn’t had much time to process it all yet. But he did know one thing for sure - HIS Brian was a kind, generous, caring man who had done more for him than anyone else in Justin’s entire life. He’d taken in a scared, naive little boy and shown him how to be a man. All the horrible and derogatory things that this Ms. Attorney was saying were wrong. They had to be wrong. That wasn’t his Brian. Either she didn’t really know him as well as she thought, or she was just plain lying. And Justin was no longer going to sit back and listen to anyone talking down about his boyfriend.

 

Justin, his face determined and clearly hinting at some of the anger he felt, looked from Brian to Mel and stated emphatically, “I’m going with him.”

 

To say that Mel was rendered speechless was the understatement of the millennium. She couldn't believe what this sweet young man was saying. Why would Justin choose to be with someone like Brian Kinney? I mean, yeah, he was good looking and, from what she’d heard, he was a fantastic fuck, but didn’t this kid understand that that was ALL Brian was? Mel felt it was her obligation to make Justin understand that he was about to make a very detrimental mistake.

 

“Justin you should really give this a little more thought. You don’t really know Brian that well - you only met him a week ago, right? I’ve known the asshole for a lot longer and I can assure you that you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for,” Mel countered, trying to reason with the boy in spite of the stubborn set to the youth’s shoulders. “Besides, I didn’t actually hear Brian offering anything other than to take you home for a celebratory fuck. What are you going to do afterwards when he kicks you out without so much as a ‘Thanks for the Memories’?”

 

Justin looked at the adamant expression on Mel’s face and for just a minute he started to doubt. She seemed so sure about what she was saying. Sure that Brian was somebody completely different from the person that Justin thought he’d grown to love over the past week. But then the boy looked at Brian again, saw a flicker of repressed insecurity and fear in the beautiful green-gold eyes and knew that he couldn’t possibly have been wrong about this man.

 

“The first day I met you, Brian, you told me that the only way to tell if someone was good or bad was by the way they treat you,” Justin stated, his surety in the man he knew he loved shining out along with his sunshiney smile. “You said you just have to listen to your gut and trust your instincts. You told me that I would always know if someone’s a good person as long as I listened to my gut. And my guts tell me that you are the best person I’ve ever met, Just Brian. Nobody can convince me otherwise.” Justin shuffled forward until he could slip his hand into Brian’s larger grasp. ”Besides, you’ve never lied to me, Brian. You promised me you would do everything you could to get me out of that Hospital and you did - you sent Ms. Attorney to help me. You also promised you would never just abandon me. I believe you, Brian. I believe IN you.”

 

Brian felt entirely overwhelmed by the unbridled trust his boy offered him. No one had ever given him such a wondrous gift. No one had ever had such unshakable faith in him. In fact, usually it was just the opposite - people expected him to be the one to fuck up. But Justin believed in him and that was all that mattered. Brian thought that maybe it was time for him to trust his gut instincts too. This slip of a boy was turning his world upside down - but in a good way. As he looked down into the soft blue eyes of this young man, he was momentarily frightened by the realization that this kid had somehow turned all of his fundamental rules and laws and principles - all the precepts that he’d put into place to maintain control over his life and protect him from life’s harsh realities - into irrelevant vanities. It seemed that none of his rules applied to Justin. Maybe they didn’t even apply to Brian himself anymore. But his gut was telling him that Justin was what he needed in his life and that he’d be insane if he let this young man get away.

 

“Always trust your gut, Sunshine,” Brian replied, with a real smile that somehow managed to escape from behind the usual Brian Kinney mask.

 

Justin’s return smile was so brilliant that Brian could almost feel it radiating like the summer sun against his skin. And, without warning, he found he just had to kiss those invitingly sweet cotton-candy-pink lips. He gathered up his boy in a passionate embrace and voraciously drank at the fountain of that sunshiney smile. Little Justin, who had certainly come a long way in his boyfriend lessons over the course of the past week, kissed back almost as passionately. So passionately, in fact that the world around them sort of disappeared for several minutes.

 

*Ahem*

 

They were eventually interrupted by the disapproving noise of Mel clearing her throat. “I think you’re dead wrong about this, Justin.” Mel had to state one more time for the record. “But, it’s your call to make. I’ll tell Lindsey to make up the the guest room just in case though. I figure Kinney will be done with you by say . . .” she looked at her watch, “no later than six pm. Just call me when you’re ready and we’ll come pick you up.” Mel smirked at Brian maliciously. “Now, if you’re through examining my client’s tonsils, Mr. Kinney, I’d like to get the fuck out of here. I do have a life outside of saving your ass.”

 

“Don’t get your thong in a twist, Mel,” Brian groused as soon as he came up for air, ignoring Mel’s prediction about how long his commitment to Justin would last. “I’m allowed to kiss my BOYFRIEND hello after not seeing him for almost two whole days.”

 

“Wow! That’s impressive. You used the word ‘boyfriend’, in context, and your head didn’t even explode,” Mel kidded him with a curious smile as she gestured towards the parking lot where her car was waiting. “Next thing you know, we’ll see pigs flying past the car.”

 

“Really? Flying piggies? That would be so cool. Where are they,” Justin was dancing in place, looking up at the sky and searching desperately for the flying piggies.

 

“It’s a figure of speech, Sunshine.” Brian stated with a hint of amusement in his voice as he grabbed Justin’s shirt tails and reeled the boy back in. ”If you’re in such a fucking hurry, Mel, don’t let us hold you up. I can always call a cab for Sunshine and myself.” Brian reached for his pocket and found it empty. “Shit! I forgot to get my phone and keys and shit back from those fuckers. Come on, Sunshine, let’s go get my shit and then we can get the hell out of here.”

 

“Ok. Have it your way, Kinney,” Mel said, turning on the heel of her stylish pump. “Good luck, Justin. I’ll let you know what happens with the estate stuff as soon as I hear anything. And, don’t hesitate to call if, or rather when, you need anything.”

 

“Thank you, Ms. Attorney, but I think Brian and I will be just fine,” Justin responded as politely as he could before turning his back on the woman and following Brian back inside the station house. “Brian? I thought you said that Lindsey and Mel were your friends?”

 

“They are. Mostly.”

 

“Well, then, I think you need some new friends,” Justin asserted, catching up to Brian and slipping his hand through the crook of his boyfriend’s arm. “They’re really not very nice to you. I mean, Ms. Attorney did help get me out of the hospital and get you out of jail, but she seems kinda . . . mean.”

 

“I believe the word you’re looking for, Sunshine, is ‘bitch’,” Brian added with a snarky smile. “But, I’m kinda stuck with them, you know, because of Gus. So, we just have to grin and bear it.”

 

“Ok. If you say so . . . But, I’m still going to have to have a talk with them about the way they speak about you. Especially in front of Gus. They can’t talk about my boyfriend like that and get away with it.”

 

Justin’s determined pout gave Brian a little internal thrill. He rather liked the idea that someone was willing to stand up for HIM for a change. Maybe this ‘boyfriend’ thing wasn’t all that bad after all?

 

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It took another twenty minutes of delay and paperwork before Brian’s personal items had been returned to him. Then they spent an additional ten minutes tracking down Justin’s missing shoes. Brian threatened that, if Justin wasn’t going to wear them on his feet, he would duct tape them to his hands so that he would stop losing them. Justin simply laughed, entertained by the thought of wearing his shoes on his hands instead.

 

Finally, as they were heading back out the door, Brian turned his cell phone on in order to call for a taxi. He didn’t get even the first number punched in, though, before the phone started to ring. The distinctive notes for the song, ‘Short Skirt, Long Jacket’ by Cake indicated that Cynthia was trying to reach him. Brian cringed, knowing that he was about to get bitched out once again, but accepted the call nonetheless.

 

“Damn it, Brian! Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you all night. You promised you'd be back in Pittsburgh yesterday . . .” The tirade went on and on, so loudly that Justin could hear every word even though he was more than two feet away. “I can't do the job you're paying me for if you keep disappearing for days on end like this, Brian . . .”

 

“Whoa! If you'd stop bitching long enough for me to get a word in edgewise, Cynthia, I'd tell you that I'm back in the Pitts already. What's the fucking problem now?” Brian yelled back, not really happy to have to deal with whatever the latest crisis was before he’d had a chance to get a shower and some sleep, and not really caring how grouchy he sounded anymore.

 

“Well, to start with, Simone Dennison has called three times wanting to make sure you and - I quote, ‘your sweet little blond boyfriend’ - are alright,” Cynthia started to explain. “It seems that ever since I called there earlier in the week she's been worrying about you two. She even sort of apologized for whatever the hell happened back in Portland. It sounds like your escaped mental patient date made a big impression on the sentimental Mrs. Dennison. I promised to have you call her as soon as you got back. I really think if you play this right, Brian, we might still have a chance at her husband's account, and fuck knows we need it.”

 

“That's fantastic, Cyn! Hah! Sunshine strikes again!” Brian thrilled, communicating his happiness to the Sunshine in question with an affectionate squeeze to the young blond’s waist and a quick kiss to the boy’s temple. “I'll call Simone right back . . . Or better yet, I'll have Justin call her! Let him work a little more of his special magic on her. That should do the trick. What else?”

 

“Well, actually, the phones have been ringing off the hook the past couple of days. I'm not sure what the hell you've been up to while you guys were on your cross country odyssey, but it looks like you might have managed to drum up a shitload of new accounts in the process,” Brian could hear the excitement in Cynthia's voice even over the phone line. “You've got messages from all over the place . . . A Frank Pearson called and said his brother Hank gave him your card - he's got a gourmet meats business in Kansas and wants you to do an ‘Eat The Meat!’ type ad campaign for him. Also, somebody by the name of ‘Bill’ called from Idaho and wants you to call him back about advertising for his Outdoorsman chain of stores. Then there was a Cliff Carter and also a Wilford Carter, both from Illinois. Wilford said he's with Shaw’s Catering and his cousin Lula insisted that he hire you to do his advertising or she’d ‘fricassee his gizzards’. And finally, the owner of a club called Zoobabies in Springfield, Illinois left his number too. Basically, it sounds like we’ve got a crapload of work to do if we're going to be getting all these accounts.”

 

Brian was so stunned by this stroke of good fortune that it took him a several moments to respond. “Wow . . . I mean, I know I handed out a few business cards along the way, but you never really expect that much of a response that quickly . . . Wow!”

 

“Maybe I should send you on the road more often, huh, Boss?” Cynthia sounded upbeat but slightly stressed. “Anyway, it sounds like you made quite an impression, no matter where you went. Way to go, Rainmaker! The only problem now is that I have no idea how we’ll manage to get five new campaigns up and running at the same time - six, if we can land the Dennison’s. We’re going to need help - lots of help - right away. Starting with an art department.”

 

“Hahaha! Now THAT’S the kind of problem I like to have, Cynthia,” Brian couldn’t stop laughing over this windfall of business. “Hang on a minute, Cyn.”

 

Brian turned to Justin who had been standing nearby, listening in on Brian’s half of the conversation. “Sunshine, I know you had your heart set on making a living via hand jobs, but do you think I could talk you into becoming a full-time artist instead?”

 

“You mean drawing pictures and stuff, like what I did at the Fair?”

 

“Well, more like what you did when we were talking to Miss Lula at Carter’s Fish Market. You’d be drawing pictures for me and the businesses I’m going to do advertising for. It would probably mean that you’d have to eventually go back to school and learn some additional skills, like computer graphics and drafting, but I’m sure you’ll be terrific at it. I can also provide any tutoring you may need. What do you say? Wanna work with me, Sunshine?”

 

“YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Yes! I would LOVE to work with you, Brian! I really, really, really want a job. I like the idea of making money of my own and at the same time helping you and your business. This is perfect. Plus, I won’t have to pretend to be an artist that works for your company anymore because I’ll really and truly be one! Besides,” Justin lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, “I know you said you’d teach me more about hand jobs and blow jobs, but I think I’m really better at drawing than that other stuff anyway.”

 

Brian responded with a kiss planted right on the sweet bubble-gum pink lips of this intriguing and beguiling boy before lifting his phone back to his ear. “Looks like I’ve got at least one artist for our Art Department already, Cynthia!”

 

“Oh . . . that reminds me. I got one other odd phone message last night,” Cynthia added as an afterthought. “Somebody by the name of Phil Lind from the Nebraska State Fair called. He wanted to know if Mr. Taylor was available to work in their Caricature Booth full time. It seems his niece got her picture drawn by Mr. Taylor and he loved it.”

 

“That would be a ‘No’ Cynthia - I think Mr. Taylor will be too busy drawing pictures for Kinnetik for the foreseeable future,” Brian chuckled at the idea of his talented little blond being so in demand all of a sudden. “Start calling everyone back and set up conference calls with all of them. It looks to me like Kinnetik is finally in business! Now, is there anything else that can’t wait until our new Artist in Residence and I have had a chance to get home and get a shower?”

 

“Just one more, Brian,” Cynthia interjected quickly before Brian could hang up on her. “There was another message - this one from a Melody Gibson - who was calling about the RV her ex-husband Daniel was supposed to turn over to her as part of their divorce settlement. She seemed to think you had information on where her Neerdowell-Ex might be or at least where the RV was?”

 

“Ah! That explains so much . . .” Brian responded, glad to hear that the ‘stolen’ RV they’d bought and subsequently wrecked wasn’t precisely stolen after all. “Call Ms. Gibson back and tell her that the RV is currently in Wheeling, West Virginia . . .” Brian hesitated as he tried to come up with some way to explain away the damage to the vehicle, but while he was thinking he came up with another alternative. “On second thought, Cynthia, why don’t you ask Ms. Gibson how much she wants for the mansion on wheels - keeping in mind that it’s now got a bit of body damage. Who knows, maybe Justin and I will make a habit out of these cross-country trips where we drum up accounts out of the blue?”

 

Justin beamed at the thought of seeing all those interesting hidden away places they’d been to again. Or maybe even seeing some of the places he’d read about that they’d been forced to bypass. The idea appealed to him all the more because it sounded like Brian wanted to share the experience with him. Justin knew that Mel had been wrong about Brian treating him badly and his statement to the person on the other end of Brian’s phone call was all the reassurance he needed. What with Brian offering him a job as a ‘drawer’ for his advertising agency and now his intimation that the two of them would be making future trips together in the RV, Justin started to relax a little and let go of the nebulous fears he’d been harboring about that hazy concept known as his ‘future’.

 

While Brian was finishing up his phone call, Justin’s attention continued to drift while he contemplated that subject . . . THE FUTURE . . . it had always seemed to Justin that the phrase didn’t apply to him. He’d never had a future before. At least not one that HE would have been responsible for arranging. But now, in just one short week, all the constraints put on him and his future had disappeared. His controlling mother was dead. If Ms. Attorney could be believed, he had more than enough money to cover any of his physical needs. And, on top of everything else, Justin now even had a job doing something he enjoyed and thought he could do well. So what else was there? What else did he have to sort out in order to have a future?

 

While Justin was still mulling these things over, Brian had finished his conversation with the mysterious Cynthia and was now dialing the number to call them a taxi. Sometime while they’d been standing there, Brian had grasped Justin’s hand, and was even now holding on, seemingly not even aware that he was doing anything so ‘couple-y’. Justin squeezed Brian’s hand, and the larger hand squeezed back automatically. Justin really liked the feeling of the large, warm fingers wrapped around his own smaller hand. He had really enjoyed being Brian’s ‘boyfriend’ for the past week. Of course, now that they were back in Pittsburgh, Justin didn’t know where exactly they stood any more. Were they still boyfriends? Brian had said he wouldn’t abandon him but he hadn’t ever said that they would continue to be boyfriends. It had all been pretend - at least at the beginning - but it felt like it had become more . . .That part of the future, though, was still uncomfortably vague.

 

Admittedly, Brian had talked about them going on more trips but would that just be part of this job? Would Brian still want an unworldly, ignorant, know-nothing like Justin around now that they were back on his home ground? Justin knew he was naive and not highly educated. Why would someone like Brian - strong, handsome, clever and worldwise - want to be boyfriends with someone like him?

 

And, even more worrisome, Justin still didn’t know where he was expected to live from now on. He couldn’t bear the thought of going back to his mother’s house. That place symbolized everything horrible and traumatizing about his previous life. He wouldn’t go back there. What he wanted was to go with Brian. But Brian hadn’t yet said out loud that he wanted Justin to stay with him. That they would continue to be boyfriends and live together and keep on doing all those gloriously naughty boyfriend things. Justin didn’t care what happened - he didn’t even care if he got pregnant - just so long as he got to keep doing boyfriend things with his Brian.

 

“Ready to go home, Sunshine?” Brian asked as the yellow cab turned the corner at the end of the street and started to pull up to the curb.

 

Brian had said the word ‘Home’. Did he mean it? Did he mean that he wanted Justin to share HIS home? Justin had to know and, regardless of the answer, he knew his feelings for Brian wouldn't change . . . even if the answer broke his heart in the most terrible way.

 

“Brian . . . Where IS home?” Justin asked in a shy voice pitched just above a whisper. “I don’t . . . I don’t know if I have a home anymore.”

 

Justin’s question seemed to throw Brian for a loop. He paused, turned so that he could focus on the youth’s face and was surprised to see the depths of confusion in the unguarded blue eyes. “Justin, I just assumed . . . You know you can stay with me, right?” Brian offered hesitantly, noting how the words he’d hope would reassure had somehow fallen flat. He took a deep breath and decided to try again. “Sunshine, you definitely DO have a home and it’s with me. I want you with me Justin. I guess I thought you knew that. But, just to be clear  . . .  well, I want you to live with me.”

 

“You mean like boyfriends who live together?” Justin had to ask because he didn’t want to misunderstand anything this important.

 

“Yes. Like boyfriends - if that’s what this is. To be honest, I don’t really know exactly what it is we’re doing. I’ve never even thought about this kind of thing before. I’m not sure I’ll be very good at it, either. But I do know that I want to keep on doing whatever it is that we’ve been doing . . . that is, if you’ll have me?”

 

“I don’t know . . .” Justin started off, keeping his head turned to the side so that Brian couldn’t see his expression clearly. “My gut tells me that being your boyfriend will be a lot of hard work, but . . . I suppose we could always try it. I guess I could learn to put up with you.”

 

“You little twat!” Brian responded, grabbing the boy around the waist and tickling him mercilessly as soon as he finally caught sight of the boy’s irrepressible grin and realized he was being teased. “You think I’M hard work? Me? I’m a piece of cake. Try learning to live with someone who’s constitutionally incapable of wearing shoes. Now that’s definitely going to be a problem. I mean, I won’t be able to take you anywhere, Sunshine!”

 

“But shoes hurt my feet - you know that, Brian.” Justin chuckled softly, leaving a quick kiss on Brian's lips as the older man bent to open the cab door for his Barefoot Blond. “Besides, once you get me back HOME, I don’t think I’ll need shoes. At least I hope I won’t, seeing as you promised me a lot more boyfriend lessons . . .”

 

“Well, you just might have a point there, Sunshine. Boyfriend lessons really should be done barefoot. Yep, you just might have a point,” Brian stated as he climbed into the cab behind the best damn thing that had ever happened to him and pulled the cab door closed behind him with an emphatic, final clap.

 

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Which leaves us not at the end but at The Beginning . . .

 

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Love Buzz

[Inspiration:  A cover song sung by Nirvana from the group Shocking Blue]

 

Would you believe me when I tell you

You are the queen of my heart

Please don't deceive me when I hurt you

Just ain't the way it seems

Can you feel my love buzz?

 

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End Notes:

1/12/16 - Yay! It's really done. And have you EVER read such a sickeningly sweet ending? Hope you enjoyed it. We certainly enjoyed writing it for you. Ta ta for now! J.S.T.

This story archived at http://www.kinnetikdreams.com/viewstory.php?sid=37