November 2000

"So I was like, ‘yeah, of course I want to go,'" my best friend since elementary school, Daphne, said as we walked down the hallway towards our English class. "I mean, who the fuck wouldn't want to go to Miami for Spring Break?"

"Lucky bitch," I mumbled. "I wish my parents could take me somewhere for Spring Break..."

Daphne looked at me with sorrow in her eyes, since my parents had just recently announced that they were getting divorced. Already it was getting ugly with their fighting over the marital property, money, and who my eight year-old sister Molly and I would live with. "Oh... Justin-"

"It's okay," I said to her.

A moment later, Chris Hobbs shoved me into the wall, causing me to drop the book I had been carrying, yelling out "faggot" as he walked ahead of me.

Neither of us noticed that one of our teachers, Mr. Kinney, had witnessed Hobbs's display of douche bagginess.

"Mr. Hobbs!" Mr. Kinney yelled out after seeing the asshole shove me.

Hobbs lifted his chin as he met eyes with Mr. Kinney. "What?"

"Are you going to apologize to Mr. Taylor for bumping into him?" he asked Hobbs, meeting my eyes for a brief moment.

"I wasn't planning on it," Hobbs replied in a smart-ass tone.

Mr. Kinney raised an eyebrow at him as if daring Hobbs to defy him.

Hobbs chuckled dryly before turning to me. "Sorry," he said, obviously not meaning it in the least.

"Alright, get to class, Mr. Hobbs," Mr. Kinney said, pointing to the open doorway of his classroom. "We're discussing European Renaissance Literature today."

"Ooh, I can't wait," Hobbs mocked as he walked toward the room.

Mr. Kinney, whose first name was Brian, was without a doubt the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my seventeen years on Earth. I placed his age around thirty. He was tall, over six feet, and had an athletic, but not too muscular, build. He had amazing chestnut-brown hair, incredible hazel eyes, a masculine square jaw, and a strong chin. The hair always looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, but I imagined that it took him several minutes in front of the mirror with at least one styling product to accomplish that every morning and he was always clean-shaven. I often noticed that he would smirk in amusement when a student would say something dumb, although he would try to hide it by rolling in his lips the next moment so he wouldn't offend the student, making him look even sexier if that were possible.

His usual school wardrobe consisted of a long-sleeved, collared dress shirt, a tie, and a pair of slacks, perfectly pressed. Each piece would vary in color and he would mix and match, making it seem like he had a very large selection of clothing at home. He would often wear a suit jacket that matched the slacks when walking through common areas of the school, but would always take it off in his classroom. A white cowry shell bracelet would sometimes peak out from under his right sleeve and he had a small greenish tattoo on the inside of his right middle finger. I took a good look at the tattoo one day and saw that it said RESIST. What he was trying to resist was a mystery that sometimes kept me up at night pondering the possibilities.

I first had Brian, er, Mr. Kinney as a teacher in English Composition during my sophomore year at St. James Academy in Pittsburgh. Although that was the first time I had him as a teacher, I had noticed him during my freshman year around the campus and was immediately attracted to him. That was around the same time that I realized I was gay.  

I never really had much interest in writing in the past, but Mr. Kinney made me fall in love with it while taking his composition class. That was the same year he had organized a book club, which I immediately joined just to be around him more. I had managed to recruit several other students to join to impress him, mostly girls who would stare at Mr. Kinney all dreamy-eyed like I did, and he appointed me president of the club after the other members soundly approved. Mr. Kinney loved classic novels and would always choose books for us to read that I would end up loving, too, such asPride and Prejudice, Moby-Dick, and Journey to the End of the Night.

I took an elective poetry class when I was a junior, which Mr. Kinney taught. I was unfortunately put in Mr. Horner's American Literature class that same year and I hated it. It wasn't that I hated the subject; I hated Mr. Horner, whose teaching method was totally archaic. I got a D during the first grading period and it was the only class where I didn't get an A. I let that fact slip to Mr. Kinney the day after receiving our report cards. Knowing that I was a better student than that, he pulled some strings with my counselor to move me to the American Literature class that he taught during another class period. It required me to move around my entire class schedule, but it was totally worth it since I earned all A's in his American Lit class for the rest of the year. Plus, that gave me two different classes with him as my teacher, so that was awesome.

It was safe to assume that Mr. Kinney was not married, since there was no ring on his finger. He did, however, seem to be taken with Miss Peterson, one of the art teachers at the school. They were both assigned to cafeteria duty during my lunch period and they would spend most of that time talking to each other. They would make a lot of eye contact and Miss Peterson seemed to enjoy touching Mr. Kinney on his arm while talking to him.

I hated her with a passion. The school required us to take at least one art class in order to earn our diplomas and I took the only class I knew Miss Peterson did not teach during the previous year - photography.

I had Mr. Kinney as a teacher for two classes again for my senior year, English Literature and Creative Writing, the latter of the two being an elective. He took over as the director of the drama club at the beginning of the school year and I, of course, joined. We had just finished up with auditions for the year's Christmas play the previous week, which was going to be two performances of Joe Landry's It's a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play, and Mr. Kinney had chosen me to be the stage manager.

Mr. Kinney walked over to me and bent down to pick up the book I had dropped, The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, which we were currently reading for Book Club.

"So, are you enjoying this one so far?" Mr. Kinney asked as he handed it to me.

"Yes, it's wonderful," I replied, looking deep into his eyes.

Christ, he was so unbelievably gorgeous...

He sighed before saying, "I talked to Dr. Perkins this morning and he said no."

I frowned in disappointment. Dr. Perkins was the head dean of the school and always had to approve which books we could read in Book Club. Mr. Kinney had recently requested permission for us to read The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. The book was quite controversial when it was first published in the late eighteen-hundreds, as it contains "homoerotic overtones".

"Can't say I'm surprised," I said to Mr. Kinney.

"Well, that doesn't mean you can't read it for yourself," he said. "We could discuss it privately some time, if you'd like."

My mouth dropped open a bit and I felt some drool trickle out of the side of my mouth. "Uh... yeah," I stammered. "That... that would be great."

He smiled at me right before the bell rang. "Shall we get to class, Mr. Taylor?"

Daphne, who had been standing next to me the whole time, chimed in: "Uh, is it okay if I come to class, too, Mr. Kinney?"

Mr. Kinney looked at Daphne in surprise, as if she had just magically appeared. "Yes, of course, Miss Chanders. I beg your pardon."

Daphne smiled at Mr. Kinney before the two of us walked into the classroom, Mr. Kinney following and closing the door.

She and I took our seats next to each other in the front row while our fellow students quieted down. Mr. Kinney began taking attendance. I never understood why, but he would always call out everyone's names from his roster, although he knew all of us by face by that point.

Immediately after Mr. Kinney called out my last name, Hobbs, who was seated in the back of the room, yelled out "queer" before I could say "here."

Mr. Kinney looked up from his roster. "Mr. Hobbs, if I hear you say one more derogatory word toward one of your classmates, I will send you to Dr. Perkins's office."

There was a collective "ooh" throughout the room.

"But if I get another office referral, I'll get suspended," Hobbs said, sounding a bit scared. "Coach will throw me off the basketball team if I get suspended."

"Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut, Mr. Hobbs," Mr. Kinney replied.

This created another "ooh", which Mr. Kinney put a stop to by telling everyone to hush. He grinned at me before finishing up with attendance.

Mr. Kinney always seemed to find a way to make me to love him more.

It wasn't as if the animosity Hobbs had toward me was unearned, but I wasn't the only guilty one between us. During Spring Break of our junior year, Daphne had been dating the equipment manager for the football team and had gotten us invited to a party that one of the football players was throwing while his parents were vacationing in Europe. Someone brought a keg and although I normally didn't care for beer, it was all the alcohol they had. I had downed about four plastic cups of what I was told was Miller Lite and made my way to an upstairs bathroom to pee.

The door had been closed but unlocked and I opened it to find Hobbs lying on the tile floor, drunk off his ass. He told me to go ahead and take care of business and he grabbed me by my ankle when I tried to leave the room. He asked me to stay there with him, which surprised me since Hobbs had never said two words to me in the past. He didn't seem to even know my name, but I knew his since he was a popular school athlete. With that year's quarterback graduating at the end of the school year, Hobbs had already been selected to be the next season's quarterback. He was also a shoe-in to take over as the basketball team's captain our senior year, which he subsequently did.

I sat on the floor next to him and he laid his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his dirty-blonde hair.

"Mmm... that feels good," he purred.

I smiled and continued to play with his hair. I had known Hobbs since junior high and had developed a bit of a crush on him over the last couple of years, so I was enjoying myself.

He sat up a bit later and looked into my eyes. Without saying a word, he started kissing me. I could taste a hint of vomit in his mouth, but I didn't care. I had never kissed a boy before or done anything beyond kissing with a few girls, which had only been out of curiosity. Hobbs put his hand up my shirt and played with my left nipple and I quickly undid his jeans. His massive cock was hard as a rock and I pulled it out of his boxers and began to stroke it.

Hobbs soon grabbed the back of my head and pushed it down to his crotch. I took as much of his cock into my mouth as I could and sucked it. He lasted all of fifteen seconds before shooting into my mouth. His cum tasted awful and I spit it into the toilet. He didn't even notice, since he had his eyes closed as he recovered from his orgasm, whimpering with every exhale.

I tucked him back into his boxers and managed to zip up his jeans before some girl began banging on the bathroom door. She yelled for us to get the fuck out and I somehow managed to pick Hobbs, who probably had a good thirty pounds on me, up off the floor and dragged him into the hallway. Hobbs then pushed me away and headed back downstairs, nearly falling down several times as he held onto the banister for dear life.

A couple days later, I took Molly to a park near our house while our mother was out running errands. I was on the swings with Molly, me just sitting there idly while Molly swung back and forth, when someone came up behind me and pushed me forward into the sand below. I turned over to see who the hell had done that and found Hobbs standing over me, the sun shining brightly behind his head.

"Hey, faggot," he yelled at me. "I see you're taking some time out of your busy butt-fucking schedule to take your baby sister to the park."

I looked up at him with what was surely a look of pure terror on my face. By that point, Molly was standing beside me and crying, begging Hobbs to not hurt me.

He bent forward and growled in my face, "If you ever tell anyone what happened the other night, I swear on my dead grandmother's grave, I'll fucking kill you."

I quickly nodded before he walked off and I was thankful I hadn't pissed my pants.

I became Hobbs's favorite object of ridicule after getting back to school once break was over and it continued to the present day. Fairly certain that he intended to follow up on his threat, I never said a word to anyone, not even Daphne, about why I had suddenly become Hobbs's enemy. Several teachers and other classmates had noticed this, but all I would say was that Hobbs didn't like me for some reason and that it wasn't a big deal.

I listened intently as Mr. Kinney read the poem "On Monsieur's Departure" by Queen Elizabeth I* aloud from our textbook when a spitball landed on my desk. I turned around and saw Hobbs glare at me, a plastic straw in his hand. I turned back toward the front of the class and felt another spitball hit me on the back of my head.

Fucking immature jerk...

Daphne saw it that time and scoffed in disgust. She turned around to look back at Hobbs for a moment before interrupting the reading of the poem.

"Some gentler passion slide into my mind," Mr. Kinney recited, "for I am soft and made of melting snow-"

"Mr. Kinney!" Daphne yelled out.

"Shut up, Daph!" I said through gritted teeth.

"Is there a problem, Miss Chanders?" Mr. Kinney asked.

"No, there's no problem," I answered for her. "Please, continue, Mr. Kinney."

His eyes shifted between me and Daphne for a few moments before he picked up where he left off.

Later that afternoon, I stayed behind like I normally did on Thursdays after Book Club let out at four o'clock to help Mr. Kinney straighten up the desks and pick up any food wrappers or soda cans anyone had left behind in his classroom.

"So," Mr. Kinney said to me, "have you chosen which college you hope to attend yet?"

"Not really. I applied to five different schools that offer English degrees," I answered.

He snorted a bit. "Nearly every school in the country offers an English degree."

I felt myself blush a bit. Smooth, Justin.

"Oh."

"What schools did you apply to?"

"Brown, Dartmouth, NYU, Penn State-"

"Carnegie Mellon?" 

"Yes, there, too," I said.

"That's where I received my bachelor's," he said with a smile. "Actually, I know someone who works in the English department there.

"Really?"

He nodded as he walked behind his desk to retrieve his jacket from the back of his chair. "His name is Ben Bruckner. He earned his bachelor's in English there like I did, but we didn't actually meet until last year. He was two years ahead of me, so we never had any classes together. He also received his Master of Arts in Literary and Cultural Studies, since he wanted to teach at a college level."

"Were you hoping to teach high school after getting your degree?" 

"Actually, no. I only decided to major in English because I wasn't interested in anything else. I always loved to read and write, although I do more reading than writing these days. You can do a lot with an English degree, not just teach. I decided I wanted to teach in my junior year of college. I student-taught a sixth grade English class during my senior year and hated it. Pre-pubescent kids drive me nuts, so that's why I teach high school."

I chuckled. "I have an eight year-old sister, so you're preaching to the choir. She almost makes me not want kids of my own, because she's always in my way and snooping in my room."

"My older sister is a walking birth control advertisement, since she has two bratty sons. They always break something when she brings them over to my place to nag at me over something," he said with a shake of his head. "What did you score on your SAT, out of curiosity?"

I took the SAT near the end of my junior year and was pleasantly surprised when I received my results over the summer, finding that I had scored a total of 1500, only 100 points off from a perfect score.

"760 in verbal, 740 in math," I answered proudly.

Mr. Kinney whistled. "You could get into any school you wanted with a score like that. My score was somewhere in the 1300s. I'll bet every school you applied to will accept you. A few out-of-state schools accepted me, but I decided to go to Carnegie Mellon because my best friend begged me not to leave Pittsburgh, since he was going to the community college. I have nothing to compare it to, but the English department at Carnegie is great."

"Daphne really wants to go to Carnegie Mellon, too, for biology. She hopes to go to med school someday. My dad wants me to go to Dartmouth, since that's where he went. I told him I want to be an English major, but he wants me to be a business major like him."

Mr. Kinney flipped the light switches off before we both walked into the hallway, heading toward the exit at the end of the hall. "If I had done what my old man wanted me to do, I wouldn't have gone to college at all," he said. "I would have started working in a factory somewhere in town right after graduating high school, and I'd be pretty miserable if I did. If you want to earn an English degree you should do it, because it'll make you happy."

I smiled over at him as he opened the door for the both of us. "My dad says I'll make more money with a business degree, though."

"Do you plan on teaching after earning your degree or would you want to write professionally?"

"I'd like to be a screen writer or a novelist," I said.

"You certainly have the imagination and writing talent to be a successful writer. I'm sure you could do anything you set your mind to."

"Thanks," I said, smiling widely.

Let's not embarrass ourselves by wetting our pants and/or crying like a little girl, Justin...

"Granted, I don't make loads of money doing what I do, but I make more teaching at a private school than I would a public school," Mr. Kinney said.

I scoffed. "With what it costs to go here, I'd hope so."

I didn't know how much tuition to St. James actually cost, but I was sure it must be steep since my classmates all seemed to come from upper-class families.

"Great students like you make my job very rewarding, though," he added, making me blush.

He then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I pulled out my own pack from my pocket and he raised his eyebrows as he lit up.

"Are you even old enough to smoke?" he asked.

"I'll be eighteen next month."

"Seventeen and eleven months isn't eighteen, kid," he said. "How do you even buy cigarettes?"

I paused with my lighter in my hand, a cigarette dangling from my lips. "Uh..."

He gave me a knowing smile. "Let me see it."

I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth. "See what?"

"The fake I.D." he said while holding his hand out.

I sighed and pulled my wallet from my back pocket. I handed my fake I.D. over to him.

He looked at it with an amused grin. "Twenty-two? Yeah, right; you look like you're twelve. Where'd you get this thing?"

Daphne's twenty-year old cousin Jordan made fake I.D.s in his mom's basement and charged fifty bucks a pop, and Daphne and I bought ours from him last year. I only wanted mine to buy cigarettes with, but Jordan insisted that it say I was over twenty-one in case I ever wanted to buy booze or get into a club. Since Jordan also said that we shouldn't have our real names on it, my I.D. said that my name was Paul Montague, a character from Anthony Trollope's novel The Way We Live Now.

"I... I don't want to get anyone in trouble," I said nervously.

Mr. Kinney shook his head before holding the I.D. out to me. "At least you didn't waste your money on it - it looks pretty real... Mr. Montague.

I slowly took it from his hand. "You're letting me keep it?"

"I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't. I got my first fake I.D. when I was fifteen after I started smoking. It didn't even have my picture on it, but I used it for nearly two years before a convenience store clerk took it from me and threw me out of the store."

I smiled at him and suddenly realized that we were in the middle of the faculty parking lot standing at the rear of a black Jeep.

"How do you normally get home?" he asked me as he pulled his keys out of his jacket pocket.

"My house is only like, a fifteen minute walk away," I said, finally lighting my cigarette, figuring he was cool with it. "Daphne's parents bought her a car last year and she gives me a ride in the mornings and afternoons when I don't stay after for a club. Otherwise, I walk home."

"Why isn't she in Book Club or Drama Club with you? The two of you always seem to be joined at the hip, otherwise."

I shrugged. "She hates to read and gets stage fright when she has to talk in front of people."

Mr. Kinney faked a gasp. "She hates to read?"

"Unthinkable, I know," I said with a laugh.

"Why don't I give you a ride home?" he asked. "It's getting cold out."

All alone in a car... with him... a teacher?

"Uh... no, it's okay."

He walked over to the passenger side of the Jeep and unlocked the door. Pulling the door open, he turned to me. "Come on, there's no reason for you to walk in the cold when I could just as well drop you off."

I sighed in defeat before getting into the Jeep. He got into the driver's seat and turned the engine over. "Rock You Like a Hurricane" by the Scorpions started to play quietly through the sound system.

"Are you in any other clubs besides book and drama?" he asked me.

"No, just those two."

"Well, aren't I special?" he said in a smug tone as he pulled out of his parking space.

"I'm not in those clubs just because you're the advisor of them," I claimed, although it was total bullshit. No need for him to think I was love with him or something... which I totally was.

Mr. Kinney frowned as he looked forward out the windshield. "And here I was under the impression that I was your favorite teacher."

"You are," I quickly said. "I mean... you're a great teacher and you happen to teach my favorite classes."

He looked at me after stopping at the exit of the parking lot. "Well, I wouldn't be lying if I said I wish I had more students like you. Now, do you want to tell me where you live or am I going to drive around in circles all evening while we continue to kiss each other's asses?"

I chuckled, since that was the first time I had ever heard him use a curse word. I told him what cross streets I lived near and he turned right.

He dropped me in front of my parent's house - or, rather the house I lived in with Mom and Molly, since Dad had moved out the previous week - a few minutes later, telling me that he wouldn't mind dropping me off on club days in the future, which were Mondays and Thursdays.

I nodded and giggled a little too girlishly before walking into the house.

"Whose Jeep was that you just get out of?" my mother asked from the couch in the living room the moment I walked in, scaring the shit out of me.

"Jesus," I said with a hand over my chest. "Just someone bringing me home from Book Club."

"Someone from school?" she asked.

I smirked at her. "No; I hitchhiked, Mom."

"I couldn't see who the driver was from the front window is all," she explained.

"What, are you spying on me now?" I asked her as I sat my backpack down on one of the armchairs.

"No, I was passing by the window and saw you getting out of an unfamiliar car."

"Well, I wouldn't have to ride around in unfamiliar cars if you'd give me a car of my own."

She sighed. "Justin... now that your father and I are going through a divorce, the last thing I need to worry about is giving you a car. That would require me to either give my car to you and buy another for myself or find you a cheap, used one, plus pay for the insurance and gas for yours."

"I told you I'd get a part-time job to pay for my gas and insurance," I said.

"And I told you that I don't want you working while you're still in high school. I'm going to have to get a job, actually, to make ends meet, although it won't be easy for me to find a job that pays decently, because I haven't worked since before you were born."

"As if you won't be getting child support and alimony from Dad," I said in a smart-ass tone.

"I will, but it won't be enough to support the three of us in the lifestyle that we're accustomed to. After you move away to go to Dartmouth next year, your father won't have to pay child support for you anymore."

I sighed and sat down on the couch next to her. "I haven't even been accepted yet, Mom. I won't start receiving acceptance or rejection letters until at least February."

Mom placed her hand on my knee and smiled. "Sweetheart, it's a given that they'll accept you, since your father went there, you scored 1500 on your SATs, and you have a 3.9 GPA."

"It would have been a 4.0 if I hadn't gotten that D in Horner's class..." I muttered. "But I don't know if I even want to go to Dartmouth. Carnegie Mellon has a great English department, from what I hear, plus that's where Daphne wants to go."

She hung her head. "Justin, you know your father expects you to go to Dartmouth."

I stood up and walked around to the other side of the coffee table. "I know that, Mom, but... I have to do what will make me happy, not what will make Dad happy."

"Also, you shouldn't go to a school just because your girlfriend wants to go there," she added.

I exhaled slowly. Although I had been friends with Daphne since she and her family moved to their current home three houses down from us back in grade school, my parents were under the belief that she and I were dating. Sure, I spent nearly all my free time with Daphne, but I never once called her my "girlfriend" in front of anyone.

I had officially come out to Daphne that summer, although she claimed to have known for quite some time but was waiting for me to tell her I was gay instead of asking me if I was. Daphne was my "beard" it seemed and she appeared to enjoy playing the role, so I was fine with my family assuming that we were boyfriend/girlfriend.

"I don't want to go to Carnegie Mellon just because Daphne wants to go there," I said to my mother. "I wouldn't even have to move out of the house, because the campus is right here in Pittsburgh. Dartmouth is like, 600 miles away in New Hampshire."

"NYU and Brown are hundreds of miles away from here, too. Not very far by plane, though."

I picked up my backpack and starting heading toward the stairs. "We can't decide anything until after I get my letters in a few months. I have a paper to write," I said over my shoulder before going up to my room.

After hanging up my school uniform and changing into a t-shirt and jeans, I grabbed the cordless phone we keep in the hallway and called Daphne. I plopped down on my bed after she picked up.

"You'll never guess who took me home after Book Club let out," I said to her.

"Uh... Jake Gyllenhaal?"

I scoffed. "Yeah, because he spends so much time in the Pitts. Mr. Kinney offered me a ride."

"No shit?" she squealed, as she was completely aware of my crush on our teacher. "He actually drove you home?"

"Yeah. I walked him out to his Jeep and he practically demanded I let him take me. He even said he'd drive me home on Mondays and Thursdays from now on, so I won't have to walk in the cold."

"Aww... he wuves you," Daphne said in a baby voice.

"I wish," I said with a snort. "So, what are you up to?"

"I'm supposed to be doing a History assignment, but I'm dicking around on my computer instead. Do you know that club on Liberty Avenue called Babylon?"

"Yeah."

I had heard of it, but certainly had never been there before. It was supposed to be the best gay dance club in town according to what I'd read online.

"Well, I'm on their website-"

"Why the fuck would you be on their website?" I interrupted.

She ignored me as she continued, "...and I see that they're having what's called an ‘Awesome Abs Contest' there tomorrow night at ten."

"And why would I care?"

"Because you like guys with six packs, and... I think it's time, Justin."

"Time for what?" I asked as I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling.

"Duh!" she yelled. "It's time for us to finally go to Babylon."

I sat up quickly. "Daph... no."

"Why not? You're gay."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"And as your best friend, I want to support you however I can and that includes going with you the first time you go to a gay club."

I sighed. "I... I don't even know what I would wear."

"Just wear your regular clothes. With your perfect ass and hair, you'd look fuckable in anything."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Thanks."

"So... are we going to go?"

I thought about it for a few seconds. It would be an interesting experience...

"Okay."

I spent the next day with a knot in my stomach knowing that Daphne and I were going to Babylon for the first time that night. I had no idea why I had agreed to go in the first place. It certainly hadn't been the first time that Daph had brought up the idea of the two of us going to a club on Liberty Avenue, the street that everyone in town knew of as "the gay street." In fact, right after I had come out to her that previous summer one of the first things she had said to me was that she could hardly wait for us to go to a gay club together, as if it had been a life-long dream of hers or something.

On one hand, I was looking forward to going. I did not personally know any other gay people and knowing that there were places in my hometown of Pittsburgh where other people like me congregated to dance, drink, and who knows what else was tantalizing.

On the other hand, I was terrified to go to Babylon or any other club on Liberty Avenue. I had no idea what it was really going to be like, being around all those gay people.

There had been one night a couple of months before when I told Mom and Dad that I was staying at a friend's house, but instead I hid out at Daphne's until about midnight before asking her to drop me off on Liberty Avenue. I walked around for a little bit, mostly just gawking at the people walking around, before some greasy-looking creep tried to pick me up. I told him no and he told me to go home to my mommy.

So I did.

I made it to a pay phone and called Daphne's cell phone - since my parents claimed that I was too young to have one of my own - breaking down in tears as I begged her to pick me back up. I felt like such a pussy. She did turn around to come and get me, but berated me about my wanting to go without her for my first trip.

"I'm not going to let you chicken out this time," Daphne said to me on Friday morning in her car on the way to school. "I'm going to be with you every step of the way. Ooh, we're going to have so much fun!"

I smiled over at her apprehensively.

My classes seemed to drag by that day. I had a test in calculus, which I could hardly focus on. At least I had Mr. Kinney's Creative Writing class the following period. We had an assignment that was due the following Monday, but I had finished mine already and had turned it in to him at the beginning of class the previous day.

While my fellow classmates worked on their papers around me, I spent the class period alternating between reading The Count of Monte Cristo and staring at Mr. Kinney, who was grading papers at his desk. We made eye contact for a moment before I quickly looked back down at my book.

Daph lectured me again about how I'd better not wimp out on our plans during lunch. I could see Mr. Kinney and Miss Peterson talking to each other where they usually stood together during cafeteria duty. They normally smiled and laughed while they spoke, but they seemed a bit subdued that day... maybe even somber.

As always, I got to see Mr. Kinney again later that afternoon during English Literature where we continued our discussion about Renaissance Literature. His somber attitude from lunch did not carry over and nothing seemed out of the ordinary as he read a section of John Milton's poem Paradise Lost out loud. Hobbs must have left his straw at home, because I went the entire class period without any spitballs hitting me in the head.

Once school finally let out at three o'clock, I met Daphne at her locker as I always did and she drove us to her house. I ran home and let myself in. Mom and Molly weren't home yet so I went up to my room, rifled through my closet before selecting a pair of dark blue jeans and a tight maroon long-sleeved shirt, and went back over to Daphne's before they could come home. I had already told Mom before leaving for school that morning not to expect me home before my curfew, which was at eleven on the weekends. I knew, however, that she would conk out around nine and it would probably be after midnight before I actually got home that night.

Although it had taken me ten seconds to chose what I was going to wear that night, Daphne tried on and modeled at least five different outfits before settling on a fuzzy hot pink sweater and some black pants. She then fussed with her hair for about a half an hour, using nearly a whole can of hairspray and tons of hairclips to achieve a French twist.

Ugh, girls... I'm so glad I was born with a dick.

After Daphne wasted another twenty minutes putting on her makeup, we got back in her car and went to the mall. We did some window shopping to kill time, stopping by Spencer's Gifts to laugh at the vibrators and bachelorette party favors on display before grabbing some dinner at the McDonald's in the food court.

"So, are you excited?" Daphne asked me with a mouthful of French fries.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I guess so."

"You guess so?" she repeated. "Justin, we're going to the Mecca of queerdom tonight! I think it's going to be a fucking blast. I can't wait to see all the hot guys that will be in that abs contest. Oof!"

I shook my head at her, although I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "God, Daph, you are such a fag."

She gave me a big toothy smile.

Once we had made it over to Liberty Avenue, it took us nearly twenty minutes to find a parking spot and then about five minutes to walk to Babylon from the car. We knew that it was a popular club and that it was a Friday night, but we both groaned when we saw how long the line was outside the building. We could already hear the upbeat dance music playing from the inside. Luckily we had gotten there around nine when the doors opened, but it was almost ten before we made it to the brawny doorman who looked like he wrestled grizzly bears in his spare time.

Daphne and I both showed him our fake I.D.s, and even though he eyed us wearily, probably not believing for a second that we were both twenty-two, he let us inside. We both paid the cover charge, which according to the sign at the podium was $5 when you got there before eleven and $10 after, before checking our coats.

I grabbed onto Daphne's hand as we walked towards what had to be the main area of the club, since the music was getting louder the farther we walked.

"Ready?" she asked me.

I looked over at her and nodded before we pushed our way through heavy black chains hanging from the ceiling in the large doorway.

A techno song I had never heard before was blaring over the sound system and I could almost feel my organs rattling around my chest from the booming bass. There were bright spotlights moving around the huge room, giant disco balls hanging from the ceiling, and multi-colored flashing lights. Every so often, sparkly confetti would fall from the ceiling. Although it was still early, the dance floor was packed with men in various stages of dress and undress dancing with each other.

I suddenly felt like a fish out of water.

"Do you want to go?" I asked Daphne, who was looking around the room with her mouth wide open.

"Why? We just got here," she yelled to me. "Come on, you chicken!"

She pulled me farther into the crowd where there was a small opening and faced me. She raised her arms over her head as she started dancing along to the beat of the music, a big smile on her face. I quickly got with the program, letting loose as I listened to the words of the song that was playing, the female singer's voice auto-tuned.

We been broken down/ to the lowest turn/ and been on the bottom line/ sure ain't no fun... *

Suddenly, Daphne looked over my shoulder and started laughing. I turned to look and saw that a very attractive guy with brown hair was dancing behind me.

"Hey," he said into my ear.

"Uh... hi," I replied.

"Haven't seen you around here before, pretty boy," he purred.

Daphne laughed. "He's new!" 

I wrinkled my face at Daphne, silently begging her to shut up. Soon, the guy grabbed me by one of my shoulders to turn me around to face him and put his hands on my waist. I awkwardly placed my hands on his firm biceps as I danced with him.

"What's your name, baby?" he asked me.

"Paul," I said, deciding to use the name from my I.D.

He pouted his lips. "Oh... you're much too pretty to be named ‘Paul.'"

I shrugged. "Well, that's my name."

"I'm Curtis. Let me buy you a drink."

He tried to pull me away, but I planted my feet. "Uh, no thanks. I don't want to leave my friend."

He looked over at Daphne. "Alright, bring her with. I'll buy her a drink, too!"

I motioned for Daphne to follow us and after we walked several feet, pushing our way through the crowd, we made it to a large bar area.

"What'll you have, sweetheart?" he asked Daphne.

"Oh, her name's Erica," I said to Curtis.

Daphne's I.D. claimed that her name was Erica Buchanan. "Erica" was after Erica Kane on All My Children and "Buchanan" was after the One Life to Live family.

"Get me a Slippery Nipple!" Daphne said to Curtis.

"What the fuck is that?" I asked her.

She leaned in close to me. "I don't know... I've just always wanted to order one."

I was in no mood for a mystery drink, so I told Curtis to get me a Jack and Coke. I used to sneak sips of my dad's Jack Daniels that he poorly hid in the pantry before he moved out, so I knew what it tasted like.

"You better give him money for those or he'll expect you to fuck him," Daphne advised me after Curtis put our drink orders in with the bartender.

Looking at Curtis's profile, I didn't think that sounded like a horrible plan, but all the same I insisted on giving him some money for them.

We received our drinks about ten minutes later, during which time the Absolute Abs Contest began on a raised stage that was set up on the other side of the dance floor. A very tall, skinny drag queen who called herself Belladonna was hosting the contest and called for the contestants to come on out... "again," she added with a laugh.

Several guys, all of them with their shirts off and oiled up, filed out onto the stage. From where I was standing, each of them appeared qualified to be up there.

There were several hoots and hollers from the crowd and Daphne yelled out along with them. I shook my head the next time I caught her eye.

"What?" she asked me with a smile.

Belladonna introduced the contestants by name one by one, giving funny little "facts" about each of them, such as one being addicted to strawberry-flavored lube and another who worked summers as a golf caddy to Rick Santorum.

After each of the contestants flexed for the crowd and after conferring with the judges to the contest, whoever they were, Belladonna announced the winner - a very muscular guy with perfectly chiseled abs named Robert who, according to Belladonna during her introductions, could crack walnuts with his butt cheeks.

The music started again after the contest ended and Curtis dragged me back out to the dance floor. Daphne followed behind us and caught the eye of butch-looking lesbian.

Daph gave me a shrug as she started dancing with the woman.

Good grief. I didn't think homosexuality was contagious, but...

A few other men had gathered around me and Curtis and one of them managed to push him out of the way to dance with me. He wasn't as cute as Curtis, but he was a lot more handsy. I had to tell him that I wasn't interested twice for him to go away.

I danced with various other guys, mostly other young, skinny guys like me who I'd learned in my previous online research were called "twinks."

Soon I had to take a piss. I asked one of the twinks where the bathroom was and he pointed to an area off the side of the bar.

I told Daphne that I'd be right back and made my way through the crowd, which had grown over the hour or so we had been there. I made it to the wall adjacent to the bar and found an open doorway that I assumed led to the bathroom.

I started walking down the hallway, which was lit with blue lights. I didn't get very far in before noticing that there were men making out and even, holy shit, fucking against the walls. The sound of groans and grunts was flooding my ears over the music.

My brain told me to turn around and get the hell out of there but my feet continued to take me farther inside, where I found an open area. There were men on their knees giving blowjobs, men trussed up in slings suspended from the ceiling, and even an area where men were shackled to the wall as they were being whipped or fucked. My eyes continued to roam around and I felt myself get hard at all the sights.

I was in there for nearly a minute before some scary-looking guy approached me.

"Hey twinkie, wanna suck me off?" he asked in a deep voice.

"No thanks," I said before turning around to leave the way I had come in. I hardly made it two steps before something familiar about one of the men in action caught my attention.

Walking closer and squinting against the poor lighting, I realized that I was watching Mr. Kinney fucking Robert, the guy who had won the abs contest, from behind.

"Mr. Kinney?" I asked in surprise, the words popping out of my mouth involuntarily.

He turned to look at me, taking a few moments before the recognition hit him.

"Justin?" he said, quickly pulling out of Robert, who groaned loudly in response.

I looked down and saw Mr. Kinney's condom-covered cock, which was big enough to probably choke a horse with, hanging out of his open fly.

Oh... my... God.

"Hey!" Robert yelled at Mr. Kinney in annoyance. "I wasn't done, asshole!"

Ignoring Robert, Mr. Kinney quickly tucked his dick back into his pants without even removing the condom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mr. Kinney asked me.

I moved my mouth in an attempt to speak, but no words would come out.

A moment later, Mr. Kinney walked over to me, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and started dragging me out of wherever the fuck it was we were.

"I said what the fuck are you doing here, Justin?" Mr. Kinney roared into my ear.

I was surprised he even knew my first name, since he always called me "Mr. Taylor" at school.

"I... I just," I sputtered. "I've never been here before and I was looking for the bathroom, and-"

"Yeah, well, you found the backroom," Mr. Kinney yelled over the music.

Without either of us saying another word, Mr. Kinney dragged me through the crowd and out to the coat check area. Now that the lighting was better, I could see that he was wearing a shiny gray short-sleeved button-up shirt and a pair of tight black jeans.

He looked so fucking sexy, it should be illegal.

"I had no idea you were gay," I finally said to him.

"Well, now you know," he said in an annoyed tone. "You should never have come here - you're only seventeen, for fuck sakes!"

Hearing the man say "ass" in his Jeep while driving me home the day before had made me blush, but now I had heard him say "fuck" three times in the last two or so minutes.

Wow, who knew Mr. Kinney had a potty mouth... along with a huge dick?

"You need to leave, now," Mr. Kinney ordered, over-enunciating each word.

"No, I can't," I pleaded. "Daphne's somewhere inside-"

His hazel eyes opened to the size of saucers. "You brought Daphne here with you?!"

"No, she brought me. Coming here was her idea."

He put his hands on top of his head, grabbing handfuls of his hair. "Holy shit," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm in Hell. I'm living Dante's "Inferno"... the second circle*, if memory serves me."

I smiled at him for bringing up a work of literature at a time like this. "I won't tell anybody about this, Mr. Kinney, I swear."

He dropped his hands and looked at me with a hard glare. "You're God damned right you're not telling anyone. For one thing, you're not even old enough to be here and you had to use a fake I.D. to get in." He then paused before muttering, "I should have taken that fucking thing from you yesterday when I had the chance. If I had known you were going to use it for anything other than buying smokes..."

I looked down at my shoes.

"And two," he continued, poking me on my chest to get my attention, "nobody at school, besides Lindsay, knows that I'm gay."

"Lindsay?" I asked.

"Miss Peterson," he clarified. "We've known each other since freshman year of college."

"So... you pretend that you're straight at school?"

He scoffed as he stepped closer toward me. I could smell booze on his breath, along with the combination of sweat, cigarettes, and spicy cologne from his body.

I wished that I could bottle up that smell...

"I don't pretend anything," he said. "I've just never told anyone other than my friends, because it's no one at St. James's fucking business who I fuck. They may even fire my ass if they found out, so this stays between us, got it?"

I nodded. "I won't tell anyone," I repeated. "I mean, if you want to have sex with your boyfriend in-"

"My boyfriend?" Mr. Kinney said before shaking his head and chuckling. "That guy wasn't my boyfriend. I don't do boyfriends. He was just some trick."

I contemplated that for a moment. I was relieved to hear that he was single, but it was pretty unsettling to know that Mr. Kinney would have sex in public with some random stranger.

"Well, you're secret's safe with me," I assured him again, unable to look him in the eye.

"Good," he said before pointing back toward the dance floor. "Now go back in there, find your little girlfriend, and get the fuck out of here. I'd better not ever see you in here again, understand? You can go to Pistol, Boy Toy, Popperz, or the fucking Meat Hook for all I give a shit, but never here."

I nodded again before he pushed me by my shoulder to go back inside to get Daphne, but not before I finally did find the bathroom, which was almost as busy as the backroom.

Daphne hit me with a million questions as I pulled her out of the building by her hand and up the street in the direction of her car after retrieving our coats.

"What the fuck happened?" she yelled.

"Nothing... we just have to go."

"Did someone do something to you?" she asked as she practically had to run to keep up with me.

"No, no one did anything to me. We just can't go back there again."

"But I don't understand," she said in a whiney tone. "We were having a good time!"

"All good things must come to an end," I mumbled.

Like my perfect image of Mr. Kinney, for instance. Before that night, I used to imagine what Mr. Kinney was like in real life. What kind of house did he live in? What did he like to do in his spare time? What types of music did he listen to? What did he wear when he wasn't in his normal school attire? It was all a big, open mystery and because I had no idea of what he was really like, it was fun to picture all types of different scenarios.

But never did any of these scenarios involve Mr. Kinney going to a gay dance club, picking up a stranger, and fucking said stranger in a seedy orgy room. Sure, I had dreamt of the possibility of Mr. Kinney being gay many times, but he was only ever attracted to me in those scenarios. The thought of him having sex with some random man had never crossed my mind.

Not only was that perfect image of him shot to Hell, but I then knew that Mr. Kinney was kind of an asshole with the way he had ordered me out of Babylon like he owned the place and demanded that I never come back.

I understood how he didn't want the whole world to know that he was gay, especially the Powers That Be at St. James that could very well fire him solely because of his sexual orientation. I wasn't exactly "out and proud" myself at school.

He did not, however, have to be such a dick to me. Sure, he probably never expected me or another one of his students to catch him in a place like that, but I thought that he overreacted to the whole thing.

I spent the weekend dreading going back to school on Monday, since I would have to see Mr. Kinney again during the two classes I had with him as well as after school during drama club. Since I was going to be the stage manager in the play, I would be working closely with Mr. Kinney in getting the show together, which was the main reason why I signed up for the position in the first place. Now that I had discovered Mr. Kinney's dirty little secret and gotten an angry lecture from him, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be around him at all.

Since my only other option was to drop out of school, which was not going to happen, I really had no choice but to grin and bear it around the man in the future.

I walked into Mr. Kinney's classroom for his Creative Writing class the Monday after catching him in the backroom of Babylon. He normally stood outside to monitor the hallway before the bell rang, but he was not out there on that morning. I took my seat in the front row and tried to look invisible while waiting for him to walk into the room.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the class period, but Mr. Kinney still had not come in yet. About a minute later, an old lady with short, blonde hair and glasses that everyone called "Mrs. G" walked into the room.

I wasn't sure what the "G" stood for, but I knew that her last name was difficult to pronounce, which was why we all called her Mrs. G. She used to be a history teacher at the school until a decade or so before. She had retired as a full-time instructor, but often returned to the school as a substitute teacher. Mrs. G was a sweet old bird and we all loved her dearly.

"Good morning, everyone," Mrs. G called out.

"Good morning, Mrs. G," we all answered.

"Mr. Kinney will be out for the next couple of days so I'm going to be filling in for him," Mrs. G informed us.

"Why?" I asked in concern. I wasn't exactly looking forward to seeing Mr. Kinney that day after our confrontation at Babylon, but I could not recall any time before when he needed a sub for his classes. "Is he sick?"

"I read the email that Mr. Kinney sent to the office this morning, and he said that he needed to take some personal time off."

"But what about Drama Club after school today?" I asked. "I'm the stage manager for the play."

"I'm sorry, dear," she said. "Dr. Perkins is going to announce over the intercom later that the club meeting won't be held today."

"Do we still have to turn in our stories today?" a girl named Natalie asked from behind me.

Mrs. G shook her head. "Mr. Kinney will collect those on Wednesday when he comes back."

A few people whooped in happiness and I could have sworn I heard some of them slapping high-fives from the back of the room.

Mrs. G put the home video version of Cats into the VCR and turned down the lights. I had gone on vacation to Manhattan with my parents when I was fifteen and we saw the show live on Broadway. I had originally thought I'd be bored out of my mind but I ended up loving it.

I learned after coming home that the show was based T. S. Eliot's book of poetry called Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. I managed to find an original copy of the book, which was first published in 1939, in great condition on Ebay soon after and I read it a few times a year.

We watched the Jellicle Cats sing and dance around the stage until the bell rang. After that, I suffered through my Chemistry class wondering what could have happened to cause Mr. Kinney to stay home from work for two days.

Was he so mortified after seeing me at Babylon that he couldn't dare to show his face at school? I quickly shook that thought out of my head, since it was so ridiculous. If Icould gather the balls to go to school that day, Mr. Kinney certainly could have, too.

Shit, he certainly had the balls to fuck people in public... I saw them myself.

After Chemistry let out, I walked to the cafeteria for lunch. I got a piece of pepperoni pizza, some greasy, salty fries, a bowl of green jello, and some chocolate milk before sitting down at the usual table.

I half-listened to Daphne and our friend September gab about how cute one of the basketball players looked that day, although he looked the same as he did any other day in my opinion, while I picked at my food. I looked around the cafeteria at one point and saw Miss Peterson standing in her usual spot, without Mr. Kinney at her side, of course.

I remembered Mr. Kinney telling me at Babylon that he and Miss Peterson were friends outside of work. I was going to go out of my mind if I didn't find out why Mr. Kinney suddenly needed some time off, so I got up and walked over to Miss Peterson.

She looked at me as I approached her. I had never had a cause to speak to the woman before then and I was sure she didn't have the slightest clue who I was.

"Hello, Mr. Taylor," she said to me with a small smile.

I looked at her with a puzzled expression for a moment. "You know my name?"

"Yes. Brian... sorry, Mr. Kinney has told me about you," she said. "He said you're an extraordinary writer."

I felt myself blush. "Thanks," I said to her, although it wasn't like she was the one complimenting me. "Speaking of Mr. Kinney, I was wondering if you knew why he's not at school today."

She pressed her lips together for a moment before quietly saying, "Brian's father passed away Thursday evening, but I'm sure that he'd appreciate it not becoming public knowledge."

"Oh, I won't tell anyone," I said. Hell, I was already keeping one of his secrets... "I thought I noticed during lunch on Friday that the two of you looked kind of sad."

Miss Peterson nodded. "That's when he told me. Brian and I went to college together and I met his father a few times."

"I bet they were really close, huh?"

Although my dad and I hadn't spoken since he moved out of our house a couple of weeks before, I knew I'd be devastated if he died.

She looked down at the floor before glancing at her watch. "You should probably get back to your table and finish your lunch."

I stood in front of her for a few more moments. I took a breath to ask her if Mr. Kinney was taking his father's death okay, but decided not to press her further after she looked back up at me with her brown eyes filling with tears. Instead, I nodded and turned to go back to my table.

Daphne looked at me quizzically after I sat back down. "Since when do you talk to Miss Peterson? I thought you said she was the Devil in a skirt."

Daphne was of course well aware of my infatuation with Mr. Kinney and knew how jealous I was of Miss Peterson over her connection with him. "I just wanted to ask Miss Peterson if there was anything wrong with Mr. Kinney."

"Is there?" Daphne asked.

"No... he's fine. He just needed a couple of days off," I fibbed as I stabbed at my jello with a plastic fork.

Mrs. G had us quietly read the beginning of Shakespeare's Hamlet, which we were required to cover that semester during Mr. Kinney's English Literature class that afternoon. I had read the play on my own before and skimmed though a few pages as I continued to think about Mr. Kinney.

Although I didn't know him on a personal level, besides knowing that he was gay and that he had a big dick of course, I couldn't help but feel terrible for him after losing his father. It was almost like when John F. Kennedy, Jr. died the previous year; I had never personally met the man, but I was still sad that he was gone. John-John was a very sexy man and died tragically after crashing his private airplane. Mr. Kinney didn't die, obviously, but knowing that he had to be going through a hard time nearly broke my heart.

I had Economics and French at the end of the day, and I was only physically present for both. Like Mrs. G had said, Dr. Perkins announced that Drama Club was cancelled that day shortly before the final bell rang.

I rode home with Daphne and she could tell that I was out of sorts. We would normally spend our trip back home bitching about the homework we had to do that night or gossiping about our classmates, but she was doing all the talking that afternoon as I stared out the window.

We were about a block away from our houses when she blurted out, "Alright, already! Will you tell me what the fuck is wrong?"

"Huh?" I asked as I turned to look at her.

"You've been acting weird since we left Babylon the other night and I didn't even hear from you all weekend," she said as she pulled into her parent's driveway and cut the engine. "What the fuck happened when you left me to go to the restroom at the club? And don't tell me ‘nothing.'"

I sighed. "I sort of stumbled into a... uh, orgy room while I was trying to find the bathroom."

Her jaw dropped and the piece of watermelon Bubble Yum gum she had been chewing fell out. "What?!"

"Yeah. I walked down a dark hallway and there was this big room where a bunch of guys were fucking," I said as I mentally pictured Mr. Kinney's naked ass and manhood for the millionth time. "I swear it was like, straight out of a low-budget porno movie."

"Holy shit!" she said, ignoring the wad of gum now stuck to the right lapel of her school blazer.

I plucked the gum off of her blazer and held it in front of her face. She opened her mouth for me to deposit it back in.

Daph chewed for a few moments as the gears turned in her head. "So what, did you do anything while-"

"No!" I yelled. "As if."

She giggled. "Well, you were gone for like, ten or fifteen minutes; I didn't know what the fuck you were doing."

"You were too busy dancing with your girlfriend to miss me," I said to her with a smile, referring to the butch lesbian that Daph had caught the eye of.

"Oh, shut up!" she yelled, pushing me on my shoulder. "I told Sheila that I was straight and only there to offer you moral support."

"And I had to peel her off of you before we left," I reminded her.

I ribbed Daph over Sheila for a few more minutes before we got out of her car. She asked if I wanted to come in and watch some TV, but I said that I had too much homework to do.

In reality, I was eager to get home to look in the recent newspapers that were in a recycling bin we kept in the garage. I grabbed the ones from the last few days and took them up to my room. I figured that Mr. Kinney's father's obituary would have been published no earlier than Saturday, so I looked in that one first.

Sure enough, I found the obituary for a Jack Charles Kinney in Saturday's paper. The small black and white photo showed a man who looked a bit like Mr. Kinney. The obituary stated that Jack was only sixty years old and had died after a long battle with cancer. He had served five years in Vietnam with the Army. He was a former member of a local steelworker's union and of the Eastway Kings bowling team. Jack had bowled a perfect game in 1984, which led his team to win the local championship.

His surviving family members were listed as his wife of thirty-three years, Joan, their two children, Brian and Claire, and Claire's two sons, John and Peter, along with a brother, two sisters, and several nieces and nephews. His parents and another brother had preceded him in death.

There would be a visitation between six and eight that evening at a local funeral home, followed by the funeral service and burial the next day.

Molly always had dance class on Mondays until five o'clock and she and Mom came home around five-thirty afterwards. I met them in the foyer in the only suit I owned, which Dad had bought for me a couple months before, "Because every man needs at least one decent suit," he had said.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Mom asked me.

I had spent the time since getting home trying to come up with a good excuse as to why I would be going somewhere dressed like that and decided that the truth was the best option. Mom knew that Mr. Kinney had been my favorite teacher for the past three years and I hoped she wouldn't find it odd that I'd want to make an appearance at his father's visitation.

"Mr. Kinney's father died and I thought I'd stop by the funeral home this evening to pay my respects," I said.

She smiled and placed a hand on my cheek. "That is so sweet of you, honey."

I smiled back at her. "Is it okay if I borrow the car?"

"Sure," she said as she dug her keys back out of her purse and handed them to me.

I arrived at the funeral home a couple minutes after six. Although Jack Kinney's viewing had just begun, the small parking lot was fairly full. I had been to that particular funeral home once in the past when Daphne's grandmother died two years prior. I remembered that there were two different viewing rooms - one to the left of the foyer and one to the right.

I walked into the funeral home and could immediately see that the doors to both viewing rooms were open and that both rooms were occupied. Next to each door stood a sign with the name of the deceased along with the times of the evening viewing and actual service. Jack Kinney was in the room on the right while a woman named Ida Reynolds was in the other room.

I went into the room on the right and saw that there weren't many people there yet. Two young boys, who I guessed were Brian's nephews, were sitting in the front row. The boys looked bored out of their minds, each with a Game Boy firmly in their hands.

After taking a look around, I did not see Mr. Kinney.

A woman with shoulder-length brown hair was standing next to the open casket at the front of the room. She was loudly sobbing, wailing things like "Oh, Daddy" and "Why, God?" while an older woman with short gray hair stood next to her.

"Claire, please try to get a hold of yourself," the older woman said to the other one.

"Daddy died, Mother!" Claire snarled. "I'm allowed to fall apart!"

"Fine, fall apart," Claire's mother said in a dry tone.

Mrs. Kinney looked down at her husband for a moment before turning around, where she met my eyes. "Hello."

"Hi," I said to her.

She surveyed me from head to toe before looking into my eyes again. "Did you know my husband?"

"No... I'm actually one of Mr. Kin- uh, Brian's students," I replied, feeling like I was in some kind of trouble with the way the woman was staring at me with a cold expression.

Mrs. Kinney puckered her lips and looked around the room. "Well, it doesn't look like he's here yet."

I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say as the woman continued to stare at me while Brian's sister carried on with her blubbering next to her.

"Why don't you take a seat?" she finally suggested. "I assume that Brian will show up late, as always."

I nodded again before walking back up the aisle and taking a seat in the third row. I sat there for the next half hour or so as more people continued to come in. Most of them were older men around Jack's age and I assumed that they were either former coworkers or bowling buddies of his. Each of them took a slow walk by the casket, greeting the two Kinney women and giving them their condolences.

A few minutes later, a small group of people around Brian's age walked into the viewing room. I immediately recognized one of them as Miss Peterson, along with a very pregnant but otherwise petite woman and four men. All but Miss Peterson took a seat on the other side of the aisle from me in the third row.

Miss Peterson approached Mrs. Kinney, who was still standing stoically beside her husband's casket. I could hear their voices over the classical music that was playing quietly over the sound system.

"Hello, Mrs. Kinney," Miss Peterson said. "I don't know if you remember me - I'm Lindsay Peterson."

Mrs. Kinney looked at her for a few seconds. "Ah, yes, you dated Brian in college."

"Yes, that's right," Miss Peterson said.

Dated? Bullshit... more like bearded for, I imagined, which made me assume that Brian was not only closeted at work but also with his family.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Miss Peterson said.

"Thank you," Mrs. Kinney quickly replied, seemingly already tired of everyone's sympathy.

Miss Peterson looked down at Jack for a few moments before turning around to join her friends. While walking up the aisle, she locked eyes with me. "Mr. Taylor?"

"Hi, Miss Peterson," I replied.

"How nice of you to come," she said, giving me a small smile.

I shrugged, trying to be aloof without having a damned clue what to say. "Yeah, well..."

"I guess Brian's not here yet?" she said while taking a look around the room.

"No," I confirmed.

"Yeah, where is he anyway?" one of Miss Peterson's male friends asked. "I talked to him this afternoon and he said he'd be here."

"He still has time," another one of the men said.

"You know how he's always ‘fashionably late,'" the pregnant woman said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, how rude of me," Miss Peterson suddenly said before motioning for me to get up to walk over to the group. "Guys, this is Justin Taylor, one of Brian's students. Justin, this is Ted, Emmett, Ben, Michael, and Melanie," Miss Peterson said as she pointed each person out to me.

I waved awkwardly at the group.

"Well, aren't you adorable?" Emmett said to me with a big smile. He had a gap between his front teeth, but I still thought he was rather attractive, albeit effeminate.

"Em, this is a wake," Ted scolded his friend. "You're not here to pick anyone up."

"Yeah, and he's like, fifteen," Michael said, looking at me impassively.

"Justin's a senior," Miss Peterson informed him.

"And I turn eighteen next month," I added.

"Ooh..." Emmett said quietly, smiling at me again.

Ted lightly smacked Emmett's shoulder. "Down, boy."

Miss Peterson shuffled past the men to take the last seat in the row next to Melanie.

Another few minutes passed before I went into a small room towards the back of the building, where I knew from my prior visit was where snacks and beverages were put out. I helped myself to a couple of chocolate chip cookies and a plastic glass of red punch.

Emmett joined me a minute later. "God, I hate funeral homes," he griped as he picked up a sugar cookie.

I snickered. "I doubt anyone particularly likes them."

"Well, I imagine funeral directors do at some level," he said.

We both chuckled quietly.

"I'm guessing you're a friend of Mr. Kinney's... I mean, of Brian's?" I asked Emmett, feeling weird calling Mr. Kinney by his first name.

"Sort of. I live with Michael, and Michael is best friends with Brian. We hang out at a lot of the same places, though."

"Have you seen Brian lately... you know, since his dad died?" I asked.

"Yeah, I saw him at all the usual places over the weekend."

I decided not to ask where those "usual places" were, but I assumed that Babylon was one of them. It was safe to assume that he would have seen Mr. Kinney there in the past few days. I, of course, had seen Mr. Kinney at Babylon that previous Friday night, which would have been the day after his father died. He certainly gave no indication that he was in mourning.

"So, he was still out and about, although his father had just died?" I asked, knowing that I was being nosey but not giving a fuck.

"Yeah," Emmett said. "He told us about his dad's death on Friday evening, but otherwise it's been business as usual."

Michael walked into the room and shoved a peanut butter cookie into his mouth. "Count on Brian to be late to his own fucking father's funeral," he grumbled to Emmett.

"This is just a visitation; the funeral's tomorrow," Emmett said.

"I know, but we're all here... and we're here for him, not for his dad."

"Did you try to call him?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, but it went straight to his voice mail."

I threw my glass away and went outside to stand on the front porch. I pulled my cigarettes and lighter out of my jacket pocket and tried to light up, but the lighter wouldn't ignite after several tries. I then walked over to my mom's car in the dark parking lot to use the built-in lighter and found a black Jeep parked a few spaces away.

I walked closer to the Jeep and noticed someone was sitting behind the wheel. After walking over to the driver's side window I found Mr. Kinney inside, his head resting back against the headrest with his eyes closed.

I knocked quietly on the window so I wouldn't startle him, and he opened his eyes and looked over at me, looking very surprised to see me.

After turning the key in the ignition, he rolled the automatic window down. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh... I asked Miss Peterson during lunch today why you weren't in school and she told me that your dad had died. I looked through the newspapers when I got home and saw that his viewing was tonight."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

I bit my bottom lip before saying, "I wanted to see if you were okay."

Mr. Kinney chuckled. "Thanks."

I shuffled my feet nervously. "Um... why haven't you gone inside yet?"

He sighed. "To tell you the truth, I don't know why I even came this far."

I looked inside the car and noticed an open bottle of Jim Beam bourbon sitting between his legs. "Why do you have that?"

He looked down at the bottle. "People often drink alcohol to get drunk, Mr. Taylor."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I know that."

"And I'm choosing to get drunk on this wonderful occasion," Mr. Kinney said before picking up the bottle and taking a swig.

I looked at him, puzzled. "Wonderful occasion? Your father is in there lying in a casket and your sister is crying her eyes out!"

He looked at me and smirked. "You went inside?"

"Yeah. Your friends are in there wondering where you are."

Mr. Kinney sighed again. "Get in," he said, motioning toward the passenger side with a tip of his head.

I walked over to the other side of the Jeep and opened the door. No sooner had I closed the door did Mr. Kinney turn the engine over and begin to back out of his parking spot.

"Where are we going?" I asked him, feeling a bit of panic.

"We're getting the fuck out of here."

"But... but your friends are-"

"Fuck my friends," Mr. Kinney snarled as he peeled out of the parking lot.

"But Mr. Kinney-"

"We're not in school, Justin, so call me 'Brian.' Hell, anyone who's seen my dick can at least call me by my first name."

I felt myself blush. "Brian... uh, you shouldn't be driving when you've been drinking."

He turned the volume knob on the radio and AC/DC's "Back in Black" blared over the Jeep's speakers. "Thank you, Mr. Public Service Announcement, but I'm fine."

We rode for several blocks before stopping in front of a house. Mr. Kinney... I mean Brian cut the engine and we sat there for a few moments before I asked him, "Where are we?"

He snorted. "Home sweet home."

I looked over at the modest two-story house. "You live here?"

"No. I grew up here, and my parents... well, now just my mom still lives here."

Brian took another sip out of his whiskey bottle before offering it to me. I shook my head, not feeling at all comfortable about drinking in front of my teacher.

"Justin, I'm sure that you and all the other kids at St. James grew up in a big, fancy house where your parents never had any trouble paying their bills and everyone was happy. But I grew up in that," he said, pointing over to the house.

I sat there silently while I waited for him to continue.

"That... hell hole where half the time we didn't have running water or electricity because my fucking father would drink and gamble away his paycheck before he'd pay the bills. Where everyone would always live in fear of the next time he would fly off the handle and take his frustrations out on us, which would happen at least once a week. ‘It's your fault,' he'd say. ‘It's your fault that my life fucking sucks. It's your fault that I work my fingers to the bone, working sixty hours a week to keep a roof over your heads.'"

I felt my eyes well up and I couldn't help but reach over and place my hand on Brian's right forearm.

He used his left hand to hold up the whiskey bottle. "This is what killed him. He drank every single fucking day of his life and even after he was diagnosed with liver cancer he kept on drinking because he didn't give a fuck. Then the cancer spread everywhere and he only stopped drinking when he was put in the hospital last month."

"God... Brian, I'm sorry," I said, trying to hold back my tears.

He looked over at the house again. "Don't be. I didn't even come out to him until a couple months ago, after he told me he was dying. Do you know what he said? ‘You picked a hell of a fucking time to tell me you're a fairy. You should be the one dying.'"

I huffed out a breath, my anger rising over a man I had never met. "Asshole," I whispered.

Brian nodded. "That was the last time I saw him, but my sister took it upon herself to give me updates on the old man's condition until he croaked last week. I had to make the funeral arrangements when I finished up at school on Friday afternoon because Claire wouldn't get out of bed and Mom was too drunk."

"Is your mom an alcoholic, too?" I asked.

He nodded again. "It was the only way she could put up with him, although she never drank nearly as much as he did."

I looked at the half-empty bottle in his hand. "What about you?"

Brian looked at me with a blank stare for a few seconds. "What about me?" he finally asked.

I sat up straighter and pulled my hand off of his arm. "You said that both of your parents were alcoholics."

"Yeah, and?" he asked, looking a bit angered and impatient.

"Well, people who had an alcoholic parent are more likely than the average person to become an alcoholic themselves. Your odds go up, since both of your parents were alcoholics. Many studies have shown that alcoholism is genetic."

This public service announcement was brought to you by Justin Taylor.

Brian coughed before looking down at his watch. "There's still about an hour left of the viewing. The old man's not in the ground yet, unfortunately."

His avoidance of my inquiry spoke volumes. I decided not to press him further as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from his parent's house.

We rode back to the funeral home without saying another word to each other, the stereo playing a rock song that I didn't recognize being the only relief from the silence. After getting back and pulling into his previous parking space, Brian cut the engine.

The two of us sat in the Jeep as we both stared at the funeral home in front of us, Brian tightly gripping the steering wheel. The bottle of Beam was still between his legs. If I had not been there with him and already questioned his drinking habit, I imagined that he would have knocked back more of it to find the courage to go inside.

Brian made no move to get out of the car and after several tense seconds, I asked him, "Are you going in?"

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before letting the wheel go. "Well, I'm already here, so I may as well."

Before we could get out of the Jeep, Miss Peterson and the group that had accompanied her began making their way out of the building.

"Shit," Brian whispered. He placed the whiskey bottle on the floor board and ordered, "Don't get out until I'm inside."

Brian grabbed his keys and got out of the Jeep before quickly walking over to his friends.

"Hey, where are you bitches going?" I heard him say.

"We got tired of waiting for you," Michael answered him.

"And Mel needs to get home so she can put her feet up," Miss Peterson added.

"You guys all promised that you wouldn't make me go through this alone," Brian said in a stern voice, sounding very much like a teacher scolding a student.

They all collectively dipped their heads in guilt before turning to go back inside, Michael putting his arm around Brian's slender waist before ushering him in.

I waited a few seconds before getting out of the Jeep. I reluctantly got back into my mom's Mercury Grand Marquis and pulled out of the parking lot.

I understood why Brian didn't want his friends to see me getting out of his Jeep, lest they see him fraternizing with a student. It was bad enough that I had shown up at the viewing uninvited.

I continued on my way home as silent tears began to run down my cheeks. I had spent most of the day feeling sorry for Mr. Kinney, my beloved English teacher who had just lost his father, and I was now crying for Brian, a man who came from a horrible home and drowned his sorrows in booze. I'd bet my CD collection that he often attempted to find solace at the bottom of a bottle and I was now worried about the real possibility of him hurting himself after drinking too much.

********************

I had absolutely no interest in going to school after my alarm clock woke me up the next morning. I went through my classes in my head and realized that I would have no tests or anything to turn in that day. I also recalled my mom saying over the weekend something about a luncheon being held that afternoon at the YWCA for the local breast cancer charity, which she co-chaired.

Mom normally had breakfast on the table by the time Molly and I had gotten up and dressed, so I went downstairs and walked into the kitchen in my pajamas. She had six pancakes cooking on her electric griddle and there was a pan of turkey bacon frying on the stove.

"Hey, Mom?" I said in miserable tone. "I don't think I should go to school today."

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked as she walked over and placed her hand on my forehead.

Oh, over-protective mothers...

"It's my stomach," I said, trying not to end up in the doctor's office.

"Are you feeling a little queasy?" Mom asked.

"Uh-huh," I groaned dramatically.

"Aww," she said as she gave me a light pat on my back. "My poor baby. You go back to bed and I'll call the school for you and tell them you're sick, okay?"

"Okay," I said as I turned to go back upstairs.

"I wish I could stay home to take care of you today, sweetheart, but I have that charity luncheon to go to. It'll take up most of my afternoon, since I'm going to help clean up when it's over. Then I have to pick Molly up from school and take her straight to the dentist and then to her Girl Scout's meeting. We won't be back until six-ish."

I smiled widely, since my back was to her. "Oh, that's okay. I'll be fine here by myself."

********************

I called Daphne to relay my lie about why I would not need her to drive me to school that morning. Once Mom had finally left to go to her luncheon, I quickly dressed in a black sweater and slacks before walking to the city bus stop at the end of our block. A cold front had come thorough during the night and I could see my breath as I waited for the bus to come by. I was wearing my heavy winter coat with a black hat and gloves, but I was still shivering slightly in the wind.

Although winter was still more than a month away, snow flurries began to fall as I rode to the cemetery where Jack's obituary indicated he'd be buried in. His funeral had begun at ten and it was too late for me to go by that point. It was around eleven by the time the bus dropped me a few blocks from the cemetery, which was a couple of miles from the funeral home.

I walked around the sprawling grounds for a good twenty minutes as I looked around for an open grave with the usual machinery to lower the casket, and I found one just as a line of vehicles with the tell-tale orange flags on the roofs began to make their way over. The procession was led the black hearse and a black limo as the snow started falling more steadily.

I didn't know how many other burials were taking place at the cemetery that day and I hoped that I was at the correct grave. I sighed in relief when I saw Brian's sister, her two sons, and Mrs. Kinney exit the limo. I saw that Brian had driven himself in his Jeep, which was towards the end of the line of vehicles.

My relief was quickly replaced by fear as the casket was pulled out of the back of the hearse and carried to the gravesite by the pallbearers, who I guessed were Jack's friends that had been at the visitation the previous evening. I ran over and sat on the ground behind a large tombstone several feet away as the family made their way over to the grave.

Although I had cut school specifically to be there for Brian's father's burial, I suddenly felt like I was intruding. Still, I really had no choice but to sit behind some random person's tombstone as a priest gave a short sermon at the gravesite. I could distinctly hear Claire shamelessly wailing throughout the sermon.

"Let us pray," I heard the priest say a few minutes later. "Dear God, as we stand beside this open grave, in this silent city of the dead..."

Since I knew everyone would have their heads bowed during the prayer, I took that opportunity to look around the tombstone at the burial service. There were a few people with umbrellas open over their heads and Brian was standing alone under one on the other side of the closed casket from his mother, sister, and nephews. I did not see any of his friends that had been at the funeral home during the visitation and I figured they all had to work, since it was a Tuesday morning.

I noticed that Brian was the only one in the group who did not have his head bowed during the prayer, and he looked around absently until he met my eyes. His upper body jerked in surprise at seeing me.

Shit!

I quickly ducked back behind the tombstone as the priest ended his sermon with the customary "Amen."

Although it was quite cold out, I began to sweat a bit as the casket was lowered into the ground and everyone began making their way back to their cars. I silently willed Brian to go back to the Jeep without coming over to me, but he clearly did not posses telepathy.

"Justin, what the fuck are you doing here?" Brian asked as he walked over to stand in front of me.

"Uh..." I said as I stared at Brian's legs, physically unable to look up at his handsome face.

"Get up," he ordered me.

I closed my eyes for several seconds, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could just disappear before standing up. Luckily Brian was about six inches taller than me, so I stared straight ahead at the knot in his very nice blue and white striped tie.

"Why aren't you in school?" he asked.

"I... I'm playing hooky," I confessed. "My mom called in sick for me."

Brian scoffed. "You're supposed to do something fun when you cut school, not go to a stranger's burial. Haven't you seen Ferris Bueller?"

I finally looked up at his face and gave him a guilty smile. "I don't have a Ferrari. Fuck, I don't even have a piece of shit car, so..."

He chuckled. "How did you get here, then?"

"The city bus."

"Come on," he said as he grabbed onto the sleeve of my coat, dragging me over to the Jeep.

"Where are we going?" I asked after he turned the engine over.

"I'm taking you home."

"No," I said rather forcefully. "I don't want to go home. I... I want to stay with you."

Brian looked over at me as we waited for the cars in front of us to move. "Well, my mom is expecting me at the house, since everyone's meeting there."

"Okay," I said.

"Did you tell anyone at the funeral home last night that you were my student?"

I thought back. "Yeah, I told your mom I was."

Brian sighed. "Well, I'm sure there will be plenty of liquor at the house. Hopefully she'll get so smashed she won't remember. If anyone else asks, you're just a friend. If they comment about how young you look, just laugh it off."

We eventually made it over to the house that Brian took me to the previous evening, although we were forced to park down the street because of all the other cars that had made it there before we did.

We walked into the house where a woman that Brian informed me was his dad's sister was collecting everyone's coats. After she took ours, Brian and I made our way into the kitchen. As he had previously suggested, there were several bottles of wine and booze on the counter and Brian poured himself several shots of whiskey into a glass tumbler. He gave me look as if he was daring me to comment about the drink in his hand as he passed me a can of Coke that he had pulled out of the refrigerator.

I didn't say anything but a quiet "thanks" for the Coke. There was a fruit and veggie tray on the table and I loaded up a small paper plate to satisfy my hunger, since in my rush to leave my house that morning I didn't eat anything.

It seemed that everyone was standing around the Kinney home as they socialized with each other, so Brian and I were able to stake a claim on the loveseat in the living room.

"I'll be back in a minute," Brian said before getting up and placing his drink on the coffee table before leaving the room.

I quickly chowed down on the relishes and luckily Claire came into the living room with a platter of finger sandwiches a few minutes later.

"Would you like a sandwich?" she asked everyone as she walked around the room, still bawling her eyes out.

"Christ," Brian grumbled as he sat back down beside me. He placed a bowling bag between us and unzipped it. "Don't buy her bullshit tears; she's milking this for attention."

I looked over at him curiously.

"Claire is a cunt," Brian whispered. "Dad couldn't even stand her. Mom can't stand her. Her husband couldn't stand her. Her fucking kids can't stand her."

Speaking of the kids, Brian's nephews ran into the room and made a beeline for him. They each noticed the bowling bag.

"What's in the bag, Uncle Bri?" one of the boys asked.

"Grandpa's head," Brian said as he reached into the bag. "Wanna see?"

The boys both screamed and took off running as Brian pulled a green and blue bowling ball out and sat it in his lap.

"Would you like a sandwich?" Claire said to me after walking over to us.

I reached out and took a couple of sandwiches, not caring what was on them. Brian waved her away without taking anything.

"Excuse me, everyone," Claire announced. "Now that we're all here, I think it would be nice if we all shared some memories of Daddy."

Brian sighed loudly beside me.

Claire looked at the priest sitting in a chair near us. "Father, would you start?"

"I must confess, I didn't know him well," the old man said. "He never came to mass."

"Oh," Claire said, looking around the room nervously. "Um... anyone else?"

Everyone looked at each other as they hoped someone would speak up.

Several seconds later, Brian cleared his throat.

"I'd like to share a memory... something we can all treasure. Like the night that he found out that you were pregnant with me," he said as he glanced over at his mother, who was standing a few feet away with a glass of red wine in her hand. "He told Mom to put on her most beautiful dress, took her to the most expensive restaurant in town, poured her a glass of bubbly..."

Brian chuckled before he continued. "Oh, get this - he leaned over and he said, ‘Joanie, you're getting yourself an abortion, because I don't want another fucking kid.'"

There were a few gasps heard around the room.

Brian then looked at his sister. "Claire, do you have anything that you want to share?"

Claire gasped out a couple of breaths before running out of the room.

The gathering understandably began to thin out after that. Mrs. Kinney soon excused herself, thanking her guests for coming before going upstairs.

Several minutes later, I looked over at Brian. "Shouldn't you go upstairs to see if Claire is alright?"

"And why the fuck would I do that?" he asked as he put the bowling ball back into the bag and placed the bag beside the couch.

"Well... she seemed really upset by what you said."

Brian tossed back the rest of his drink. "Fine, but you're coming with me."

"Why?" I asked as he stood up.

"Because you're making me go up there, now come on."

I stood up and followed Brian up the stairs. We came to a closed door, where we could hear Claire sobbing in the room behind it.

Brian opened the door without knocking and we found Claire lying on the bed. I assumed this had been her old room, since there was flowered wallpaper and a framed picture of a younger Claire in a cheerleading uniform on the wall.

She turned her head when the door creaked open and she immediately jumped off of the bed and threw herself at Brian.

"You shit!" she screamed at him as she began beating on his chest with her fists, pushing her brother into the wall. "You shit!"

Without even thinking, I grabbed Claire and pulled her off of him.

"Calm down!" I yelled at her.

"Who the fuck are you?" she screamed at me.

Brian shoved Claire away from me and she fell onto the floor. Brian then took me by my hand and pulled me out of the room. Claire got up and followed us down the stairs, screaming at Brian about what a piece of shit he was. He found our coats in the dining room, and after he grabbed the bowling bag we walked out of the house without another word.

After leaving Joan Kinney's house, Brian and I practically sprinted down the street to get to his Jeep. We both jumped in and Brian quickly pulled away from the curb.

"Holy shit!" I yelled, breathing heavily. "You were right - your sister is a cunt!"

Brian chuckled. "Well, Claire has yelled at me plenty times over the years, but she's never hit me before." He rubbed his chest with his right hand. "I'm probably going to have some bruises."

I looked at Brian somberly. "So, uh... was it true what you said in there; about your dad, I mean?"

He nodded while continuing to look straight out the windshield as he drove. "The old man told me several times throughout my childhood that he never wanted me, that Mom should have gotten rid of me like he'd told her to. Mom, being the good Catholic that she is, wouldn't hear of it. Shit, they'd only gotten married after she got knocked up with Claire. It seems that they had used the ‘pull and pray' method of birth control, but they were a couple of Fertile Myrtles. Pop got a vasectomy after I came along."

I shook my head in disbelief. "My parents had to try for two years to have me the old fashioned way. My dad has slow swimmers."

"The sperm that became you was the Little Engine that Could, huh?" Brian asked with a smile.

"Apparently," I said with a laugh. "They had to go through a few rounds of IVF to have my sister eight years ago."

He whistled quietly. "That shit's expensive. I couldn't imagine wanting a kid so damned bad that you'd pay out the ass to get one. Fuck, I couldn't imagine wanting a kid, period. At least fags like us don't have to worry about that silly shit."

"Speak for yourself," I told him. "I may want to have kids someday. I couldn't imagine having one any time soon, but maybe in the future."

"Yeah, maybe you and Daphne could have a couple of rug rats someday," Brian said in a sarcastic tone.

"Why not? Even though I doubt we'd make them naturally, I'd love to share a kid or two with my best friend."

"Christ, are there no real homos left these days? First the munchers, then Michael..." He suddenly bit his bottom lip, as if he had said too much.

Brian parked the car somewhere and shut the engine off, but I was too interested in what he had to say to look to see where we were.

"What about the munchers and Michael? I know who Michael is, but..."

He looked at me and sighed. "You know that Lindsay - Miss Peterson - is a lesbian, right?"

I shook my head vigorously.

"Well, did you see the little short-haired woman that was with her at the funeral home last night - the one that looked like she had swallowed a basketball?"

I nodded.

"That's Melanie, Lindsay's lover. They've been scissoring for the last five years."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh..."

"And Michael, who's also gay and has been my best friend since we were fourteen, is the father, although that was accomplished with him wacking off in a cup and Linds using a turkey baster-type thing to impregnate Mel eight months ago."

"Artificial insemination," I stated.

"Thank you, Dr. Ruth."

"Dr. Ruth is a sex therapist, not an OB/GYN."

Brian stared at me blankly for several seconds. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

I made the zipping my lips and throwing away the key motion.

"But before the girls went to Michael for his sperm, they - well, Lindsay - came to me first. She wanted me to be the father of their child and she wanted to carry it. I told her ‘fuck no,' even though I would have signed my rights away after the baby was born so Mel could adopt it and I wouldn't be financially responsible."

"Why did you say no?" 

"I reminded her of how bigoted the folks at St. James are and how they'd most definitely fire her for not just being an unmarried pregnant woman, but a dyke, too. They'd probably fire me along with her if they found out that I was the one responsible for making the bastard child. So that's how Mel ended up enceinte with Michael's spawn. She's been out and proud at the law firm she works at for years and Michael owns his own business, so neither of them has to worry about losing their jobs. I told Mikey not to do it, but he was so excited over the thought of having a wrinkled little time clock reminding him of how old he's getting that he didn't listen."

I thought about all of that for a moment. "But Lindsay and Melanie would have been the ones raising the baby, right? Why didn't you just donate your sperm for Melanie to carry it?"

"For one thing, I have absolutely no interest in being anyone's father."

"But you wouldn't have really been the father," I pointed out. "Just the sperm donor."

He leaned his head back on the headrest and sighed deeply. "Like I told Lindsay, the last thing this world needs is another descendent of Jack and Joan Kinney running around. It's bad enough that Claire has two of them."

"And for another?" I asked.

"Mel and I fucking hate each other with an extreme passion. I'd jump off a bridge before I'd procreate with that bitch."

I waited for him to elaborate, but it seemed like he was done talking about it. Instead, I finally looked outside the Jeep and noticed that we were on a street lined with buildings accented with rainbow decorations. Two men walked past us on the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

"Where are we?" I asked, although I already knew.

"Liberty Avenue."

"I've never been on this street during the day before. It looks so... tame, compared to how it looks at night."

Brian gave me a tiny smile before opening his car door. "Come on, I'm fucking starving."

I walked beside him as we made our way towards the end of the block. "Why didn't you eat at your mom's house?"

"Because I lost my appetite as soon as I walked in the door."

Brian opened the door to a building on the corner, which upon walking in I noticed was a diner. It was around 1:30 by that point and there were several empty booths available on the right side of the room.

I followed Brian over to a booth and sat down on the bench seat across from him. Soon after, a woman with curly red hair and bright make-up approached us. She was wearing a rainbow-patterned vest adorned with several large buttons, one of which was a name tag that read Debbie. Her pink t-shirt under the vest said Stop Staring at My Tits in black letters. I quickly looked down at the table.

"Hey, sweetie," Debbie said to Brian. "How'd things go today?"

Brian shrugged. "Get the kid a menu and bring me some coffee."

Debbie turned to look at me. "Well, who is this gorgeous little thing?"

I couldn't help but smile at her. "Hi, I'm Justin."

"You're a little ray of sunshine, you know that?" She then turned to Brian and whispered, "Since when do you bring tricks in here for lunch?"

Brian looked up at the woman. "Who do I have to blow to get a cup of coffee around here?"

"Alright, alright," Debbie said before turning around and walking behind the counter on the opposite side of the room. She returned carrying a cup of coffee and a laminated menu. "Can I get you something to drink while you decide what you'd like, Sunshine?"

"Sweet tea, please," I answered.

After she walked away to get my drink, I said to Brian in amusement, "She called me ‘Sunshine.'"

"That's Michael's mom, by the way. She's been more of a mother to me than Saint Joanie ever was."

Debbie came back with my tea and I ordered a double bacon cheeseburger with everything and some onion rings. Brian ordered a dry grilled chicken sandwich and a garden salad with fat free Italian dressing.

"Are you on a diet or something?" I asked Brian after Debbie left to put in our order.

"Gotta keep my girlish figure," he said before taking a sip of coffee.

We spent our lunch time chatting about the upcoming holiday play and The Count of Monte Cristo, which I had finished reading over the weekend for Book Club.

Once Debbie came by to collect our empty plates, she asked me if I was interested in some dessert. I looked at the chalk board behind the counter and saw that they were advertising their apple pie ala mode, so I ordered that. Debbie brought it out to me a few minutes later and I dug in with gusto.

"Christ," Brian said. "How the fuck can you eat all that shit?"

"I'm a growing boy," I answered with a smile.

"You're almost eighteen," Brian needlessly reminded me. "You're probably done growing by now."

"Almost eighteen?" Debbie repeated as she sat our bill down on the table. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Brian! Since when do you fuck someone who's not even old enough to vote?"

"Relax, Mother," Brian said to her as he pulled out his wallet. "He's one of my students and I'm not fucking him."

"I kind of crashed his father's burial earlier," I added.

"Shouldn't you be at school, though?" Debbie asked me.

"Trust me, Deb, Justin can afford to take a day off. He's an honors student and scored a 1500 on his SATs," Brian said with a smile as if he took great pride in bragging about me.

"Well, good for you, Sunshine!" Debbie said. "And it was pretty sweet of you to be there to support Brian today. Me and all of his friends had to work unfortunately or we would have been there, too."

"Oh, don't worry," Brian said. "You didn't miss a thing... other than dear old Joan getting sloshed and Claire being an attention whore, making everything about her."

"Same old, same old," Debbie mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Debbie walked away a few moments later after the cook rang the bell. Brian tossed a stack of bills onto the table.

"How much was mine?" I asked him, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet.

"It's on me," he said. "It's the least I could do after what you witnessed at my mom's house."

I thanked him for paying my portion of the bill and after I finished my dessert and we waved good-bye to Debbie, Brian and I walked back to the Jeep. It had stopped snowing and what had come down earlier that day had not accumulated.

We only exchanged a few words as Brian drove me back to my house. I knew that I would see him again at school the next day, but I was sad that our time together was coming to an end.

Brian pulled the Jeep up in front of my childhood home and I suddenly began to feel extremely worried about him.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm just glad to be done with this whole fucking debacle."

"You're not going to do anything to, uh..." I began to ask, but I bit my lip before finishing my sentence.

"To... what?" Brian asked.

I sighed. "You wouldn't do anything to hurt yourself, would you?"

Brian chuckled. "Relax, Sunshine. I'm not going to go on a bender or anything just because my old man died. He's been gone for a few days now and I'm handling it fabulously."

I smiled a bit after Brian repeated the nickname that Debbie used for me. "Well, it's just that he's now dead and buried... it's like, more official now; that he's really gone."

Brian put his right hand on my knee and squeezed. "I appreciate your concern Mr. Taylor, but I assure you that you don't need to worry about me. I survived a life with Jack Kinney and I'm sure I'll survive just fine without him."

I covered the hand on my knee with my own. "Okay. Well, if you ever need someone to talk to..."

He gave me a smile. "Thanks."

Before I even realized what was happening, Brian's lips were locked with mine. It was a very tender, G-rated kiss, but it was the most amazing kiss I had ever received.

Brian suddenly drew back and grabbed onto the steering wheel with both hands.

"Shit... I'm sorry," he said in a panicked voice.

"No... it's okay," I said to him.

We both sat there like statues for several tense seconds before he finally said, "You should get going."

I tried my best to hide my disappointment.

"Yeah... okay," I said before removing my seat belt and opening the car door. "Um... I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Brian said, not daring to look at me.

I had barely closed the passenger door before Brian took off.

I tried to act as normal as possible as Daphne and I walked down the hallway toward Brian's Creative Writing class the day after his father's funeral and burial, although I was nervous as hell knowing that I was about to see him for the first time since the kiss in his Jeep. Daphne was bitching about having to go to her recently-turned vegetarian aunt's house for Thanksgiving dinner the following Thursday.

"Why the fuck would my mom drag us over there when she is well aware that Aunt Tonya refuses to serve meat in her house?"

"I don't know," I mumbled a moment before Brian stepped out into the hallway looking as handsome as ever in a forest green button-up, dark gray slacks, and a matching striped tie.

"I mean, what's Thanksgiving dinner without a turkey, for God's sake?!" Daphne yelled to no one in particular.

"Amen, sister," Brian replied, high-fiving a giggling Daphne before she walked into the classroom ahead of me.

"Good morning, Mr. Taylor," Brian said to me, his hazel eyes reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead.

Okay, I guess we're on a last-name basis again...

"Mr. Kinney," I replied before going in and taking my usual seat.

"I know that Tonya and my mom trade off on who makes dinner each year," Daphne continued, "but couldn't she have waited until after the holidays before swearing off meat? Maybe my parents will let me eat at your house instead, because I know that your mom always makes a big-ass turkey."

The bell rang and Brian... uh, Mr. Kinney closed the door behind himself before walking over to his desk.

"My mom's not making Thanksgiving dinner this year," I said to Daphne.

"What?" Daphne asked. "But I thought she cooked every year."

"She told me and Molly over the weekend that she doesn't feel up for it," I said, looking toward the front of the room to see Mr. Kinney glance over at me as he rummaged through his brief case.

"Oh, because she and your dad...?" Daphne said, letting the rest of the sentence go unsaid.

"Yeah," I answered sadly. "Dad's going to his sister's house up in Butler and Mom wants me and Molly to go with him."

"Are you going?"

"Molly wants to, but I really don't want to be around my dad right now."

Daphne nodded in understanding. "What will you and your mom do, then?"

I shrugged before Mr. Kinney began taking attendance. After getting though his roster, he asked everyone to pass their short stories up to the front of the room saying that he expected nothing but great submissions since everyone had an extra two days to work on them.

Once he placed the papers into his brief case, he silently dropped my completed story that I had turned in early the previous week onto my desk. The assignment was to write a four-page, double-spaced and typed fantasy/adventure story.

I wrote mine about a ten-year old boy named Johnny who dreamed one night that he could fly. Johnny flew to different cities around the world and met a sketch artist in Paris, a pastry chef in Venice, and a mime in Berlin. After Johnny woke up in his bed the next morning, he promised himself that he would really go to those cities when he was a grown-up. I based Johnny on a younger version of myself, since I hoped to travel around the world in the future.

There was a big "100%" written in red ink in the right-hand corner of the top page along with notes in Brian's elegant handwriting stating, "Perfect sentence/paragraph structure, interesting plot and characters, and satisfying conclusion. Bravo!"

Although I wasn't surprised at the grade I received, I silently questioned when Brian had read my paper. Was it before or after his father's death? I had handed it to him the previous Thursday at the beginning of class and he was informed of Jack's death later that evening. With his comments being so upbeat, I guessed that he read it before Jack died. Or maybe he read it after and my feel-good tale temporarily cheered him up? But would it have been before or after I caught him in flagrante delicto in the backroom at Babylon on Friday, or after Monday night's viewing, or...?

I was pulled out of my state of contemplation when Daphne tilted in her seat to look at my grade, her curly pony tail coming into my field of vision, and whispered to me, "So, how's his dick taste?"

I quietly gasped and looked up at Brian who luckily didn't appear to have heard her as I wondered if she somehow knew about how close I had gotten to our teacher over the last few days. I had told her absolutely nothing about my previous afternoon with Brian, letting her believe that I was at home sick all day.

I blushed for a few moments as I replayed my and Brian's kiss in my mind for the millionth time before remembering the little game that Daphne and I had played for years, where one of us would accuse the other one of fucking the teacher when we would get an A on something as if that were the only way that we could ever get a good grade despite the fact that each of us were honors students.

"Delicious," I whispered back before Brian told us to open our textbooks.

Many times throughout the class period while he lectured us over anecdotes, I looked up and caught Brian staring at me and he would quickly look away. I already had a half-wood after trying to imagine how his dick really tasted and each time I met his eyes, my own dick would twitch in my pants.

Halfway through eating a ham and Swiss sandwich that I bought in the lunch line, I looked over to where Brian and Miss Peterson normally stood during their cafeteria monitoring duties. He was once again looking at me and he licked his lips before turning his head to say something to Miss Peterson.

That little peek of his tongue made my dick leak a bit.

During my afternoon English Literature class, Brian asked a few of my classmates to read the different characters' dialog aloud from Hamlet*. The first scene unfortunately had the word "cock" appearing a few times and several of my gutter-minded classmates chuckled each time it was read. Said "cock" was, of course, a bird, but alas...

I had managed to keep my own cock under control that far, since had I refrained from looking up at Brian. He called on me to read Horatio's last two paragraphs at the end of Act I, Scene I, where I had to say "cock" once. I could practically feel Brian's eyes burning into me as I spoke, but I didn't look at him until the scene was finished.

More of the same happened the next day, which was a Thursday and the day of our Book Club meeting after school. I caught Brian blatantly staring at me many times throughout the day, but we didn't speak to each other anymore than was necessary until he excused our club meeting at four o'clock.

I put on my coat and slung my backpack over my shoulders. I wanted to hustle my ass out of there and run home, but I didn't want to disappoint Brian by not helping him straighten up his classroom like I normally did at the end of our meeting.

I had my back turned as I gathered up a couple of candy wrappers that others had left behind and jumped as I heard the door to the classroom close with a loud thunk.

"Justin," Brian said, causing me to turn around to look at him.

I immediately felt myself break out in a sweat as my pulse suddenly picked up. "Yes, Mr. Kinney?"

He gave me a little smile. "I believe I told you that you can call me ‘Brian' when we're alone."

"Yes... Brian?" I nearly whispered, suddenly aware that we were indeed alone for the first time since he had driven me home two days before.

"Look, I..." Brian began, pausing to scratch his head as he briefly looked toward the windows. "What happened between you and me in my Jeep the other day..."

I waited for a few moments while watching him chew his bottom lip.

"Yes?" I asked.

"It shouldn't have happened," he finally blurted out. "I mean, you're my student and I could get into a shit-load of trouble if anyone-"

"I haven't told anyone, I swear," I insisted. "I would never tell anyone."

He closed his eyes for a moment, a brief look of relief on his handsome face. "Well, it was completely inappropriate, nonetheless. Hell, I should have just driven you home right after I caught you at the cemetery. Taking you to my mom's house was-"

"It was a mistake, I get it," I said forcefully, tears welling up in my eyes as I silently begged him to stop talking about it. "I shouldn't have gone to the cemetery or to the funeral home the night before. I had no right to barge into your personal life like that."

"Hey," Brian said as he walked closer to me. "It's not that I don't appreciate you showing concern for me after you heard about my dad's death, but-"

I stepped around him to throw the candy wrappers away in the trash can beside his desk. "But I should have stayed the fuck away," I finished for him. "I hear you loud and clear."

I grabbed the doorknob to leave.

"Justin, wait," Brian said, effectively halting my movements.

"Why did you kiss me?" I stage-whispered as I stared at the wooden door in front of me.

He didn't say anything for several seconds, so I turned to look at him. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes searched my face.

"What?" he asked.

"You heard me," I said, taking a few steps toward him. "Is it because you were somehow feeling vulnerable, since you had just buried your father and I was showing my concern over you, which made you want to kiss me, or... are you attracted to me?"

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah," he whispered.

My breath caught in my throat. "Wh... which one?"

"Well, both... but especially the second one."

I walked over to the desk closest to the door and sat down heavily. He then sat on the corner of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

I took several deep breaths while tons of questions flew through my head. I verbalized the most pressing one: "For how long?"

Brian chuckled a bit. "Uh... I don't know."

"Can you give me an estimate, because I've been in love with you since I first saw you back in my freshman year," I blurted out, which I immediately regretted. I looked down at the desk. "Shit... I don't really mean, ‘in love,' I just mean that I've... had a crush on you. A major one."

He chuckled again. "Well, I remember always thinking that you were a cute kid, what with that blonde hair of yours and those big, blue eyes... you look like a porcelain doll. But I guess I first started noticing you as more than just a ‘cute kid' at the beginning of the school year."

I looked back up with him.

I must have had a curious expression on my face, because he continued, "It looked like you grew up quite a bit over the summer."

I smiled. "Yeah, I grew three inches and put on about ten pounds, plus I gained a shoe size almost overnight. My mom had to buy me a whole new wardrobe and I had to get new school uniforms."

"You didn't just get taller," he said. "You look more mature than you did last year. You lost the baby fat in your cheeks and you just look more... manly, I guess."

His voice deepened towards the end of that sentence, causing my manly bits down below to come to life.

We sat in silence, just staring into each other's eyes for a few seconds until we heard what sounded like keys jingling outside the door. A janitor opened the door and was surprised to see us.

"Oh, I thought everyone would be gone by now," he said.

"Sorry," Brian said as he walked around his desk to retrieve his suit jacket, top coat, and brief case. The two of us walked out into the hall and began heading toward the exit.

"Want a ride?" he asked me as he held the door for me.

"Sure," I said.

I was hoping that once Brian and I were in his Jeep that we would continue on with our conversation. After he turned the engine over, "Panama" by Van Halen quietly poured out of the speakers. Instead of turning it down so we could hear each other better, Brian turned the volume way up before lighting a cigarette and pulling out of his parking space.

We listened to David Lee Roth screech for a minute before Brian made a right at a stop sign when he should have turned left to take me home.

"Where are we going?" I yelled over the music.

"Somewhere that we can talk," he yelled back. "Unless you needed to go straight home..."

"No... just as long as I'm home by six for dinner."

I soon realized that he was driving toward a park - the same park where Hobbs threatened to kill me if I ever told anyone about the blow job I gave him at that party. We eventually parked near the empty play area and Brian shut the car off.

"I figured with it being as chilly as it is, there wouldn't be anyone here," he said.

I nodded and looked around aimlessly. After several seconds of listening to nothing but the sound of both of us breathing, I finally said, "So..."

"So..." Brian repeated, at a loss for words.

"I have a question," I said to him.

He raised his eyebrows a bit, which I guessed was his permission to ask away.

"How long have you known that I'm gay?"

He snorted out a laugh. "Well... I've certainly never thought that you were straight."

"Why not? I mean, how could you tell that I wasn't?"

He gave me a give me a break look. "Have you heard of the concept of gaydar?"

I shook my head.

"Have you ever looked at a man before and thought, ‘He has got to be gay'?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Uh... yeah, like when I met your friend Emmett at the funeral home the other night."

Brian tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "There you go. Some guys are more obvious than others - proud queens like Emmett, for instance - but I had no doubt about you, either. Your flame's not as bright and you may be able to fool others who don't pick up the signs. Luckily I usually have no problem passing as straight. Someone would have to be in a fucking coma to not notice Emmett, though."

"Yeah," I said. "I guess Daphne has a decent gaydar, because when I came out to her over the summer, she went, and I quote, ‘Well, fucking finally, shit! When are we going to Babylon?'"

We both laughed.

"Have you ever tried to fuck her before?" Brian asked me.

"No... we gave each other our first kiss when we were like, twelve and we've kissed a few times since then, like this one time a couple of years ago when her parents went out of town for a night and she had gotten a bottle of peach schnapps from her cousin-"

"But never anything more than kissing, right? And I'm safely assuming that sheinitiated it."

"Right, and from what I remember, yes."

"I must admit that Daphne is a very pretty girl," Brian said. "Any straight teenage boy would have gotten in her pants a long time ago or at least tried. You didn't, even when you were drunk, so that was a big clue for her that you probably don't like pussy."

Just the word pussy made me cringe. "Yeah, you're probably right. Plus, I've only kissed two other girls before, besides Daphne, and nothing else ever happened. My last girlfriend broke up with me when I was fourteen because I always pulled away when she tried to French me."

Brian chuckled and then sighed a few moments later. "Justin?"

I looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Like I said back at school, whether we like it or not, you're my student and I'm your teacher, which means that nothing can happen between us."

I let out a scoff. "Why did you bring me here to repeat that, instead of just taking me home?"

He sighed again and shook his head. "I really don't know."

I smiled and asked, "Is it because you wanted to be alone with me a little bit longer before having to say goodbye for the day?"

He was obviously trying to hold back a guilty grin. "Yeah, I guess so."

I unhooked my seat belt so I could lean towards him. "What if I wasn't your student, Brian?" I asked in a breathy voice. "Like, if I was just some guy you met at a club?"

Brian chuckled. "Even if you weren't my student, nothing serious would happen between us, because like I said at Babylon, I don't do boyfriends. If you were just some guy I came across and we fucked..."

I slowly licked my lips. "Uh-huh?"

He stared at my mouth and exhaled a shaky breath. "That would be that. We'd fuck once and then it would be over."

Since Brian was at least entertaining the possibility of us getting together and that very moment may have been my one and only chance with him, I decided to throw a Hail Mary pass. With my left elbow on the arm rest between us, I reached up with my right hand and lightly trailed my index finger along the left side of his jaw.

"At least I'd get to be with you once than never at all," I said as I looked into his eyes.

Brian let out a little growl before grabbing me behind my head and crushing his lips against mine. I soon felt his tongue push through my lips, and because I had little experience with French kissing, I just let him explore the inside of my mouth. Apparently he was enjoying himself, because he moaned before putting an arm around my back and pulling me closer, practically into his lap.

Just as quickly as the kiss began, Brian ended it by roughly shoving me back over to my side of the Jeep.

"No!" he yelled, breathing heavily. "No, Justin... we can't."

"But I want to!" I yelled back. "You won't be taking advantage of me or any authority you have over me. Besides, the age of consent in Pennsylvania is sixteen and I'll be eighteen in three weeks, anyway, so-"

"That doesn't matter! If we got caught, that would be it for me. I'd be fired in a heartbeat and would probably never be allowed to teach again."

"No one would ever find out!" I insisted. "It would just be our little secret."

"No!" he yelled again. "It's not worth the risk. My career is much more important to me than a piece of blonde boy ass."

It felt as if he had just slapped me across the face. I knew that he was right, but his words still hurt. I straightened up in my seat and put my seatbelt back on.

I then looked out through the windshield and confidently said, "Well, I graduate in May. I've wanted you since I was a freshman, so waiting for six more months isn't going to kill me."

I could see him still looking at me in my peripheral vision, but he turned away a few seconds later and started the car again.

Jon Bon Jovi serenaded us with "Livin' on a Prayer" as Brian drove a few blocks over to my house, neither of us saying a word. He turned the volume on the stereo down as he pulled up to the curb.

"Thanks for the ride," I mumbled as I unhooked the seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

Brian suddenly grabbed my left arm to stop me from climbing out of the Jeep. "Six months really isn't that long over the course of a lifetime," he said.

I had to think for a few seconds about what he could have been referring to and remembered that it was the length of time before he was no longer my teacher.

I gave him a smile, and he raised my left hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. I couldn't help but giggle like a little girl, knowing that he was practically making a date with me, even if it was just for one night after graduation.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Brian said as he released my hand.

All I could do was nod before getting out of the Jeep and practically skipping into the house.

It took every bit of restraint I had the next day to not dance out of the house, singing about how fucking great I felt and how great I knew I looked. Sure, I had been told many times before by many different people throughout my life that I was "cute", or "adorable", or even "beautiful". I saw how many guys at Babylon and on the street of Liberty Avenue had looked at me, along with hearing many of their suggestive comments about what they wanted to do to me, but knowing that Brian wanted me, even if it was for just one night, made me feel truly beautiful for the first time in my life. Sexy, even.

"You look self-satisfied," Daphne said to me after I climbed into her car to leave for school. "I'd even go as far as to say ‘supercilious.'"

"We all know you got 700 verbal," I said as she backed out of her driveway. "Stop showing off."

"And you got 760, yeah, yeah..." she said. "You didn't call me last night, you know."

I knew, because I was too busy formulating a plan. Once I had gotten inside the house after Brian dropped me off, I yelled a quick "hey" to my mom before running up the stairs, stripping off my clothes, and jumping into the shower. My dick had been at least half hard since Brian admitted to me in his classroom that he was attracted to me and I desperately needed to relieve it.

After jerking off while remembering the feeling of Brian's lips on mine and being pressed against his body, I tried to think of a way that I could see him outside of school again. I knew I'd be seeing him on Saturday morning when everyone involved in the Christmas play would be meeting in the school auditorium for the first full read-through of the script and I may have been able to get him to drive me home afterward. And although he had banished me from ever going to Babylon again, I was hoping that because we had gotten closer since he had told me to never return to the club maybe he wouldn't mind. As territorial as he seemed to be about Babylon, I was guessing that it was his usual stomping ground and I might just find him there later that night.

"It's not like you had to call me after you got home from your book club meeting or anything," Daphne said, "but you normally do to tell me about at least one brilliant or insightful thing that Mr. Kinney had said about whatever book you're reading."

I shrugged. "Brian gave us a new book to read and I couldn't put it down last night."

"Brian?" Daphne repeated.

Shit.

"Mr. Kinney," I corrected.

She looked over at me curiously. "Since when do we call teachers by their first names?"

I didn't want Daphne to know that Brian had given me permission to call him by his first name because that would have brought about a million questions from my extremely-nosey friend.

"I call him ‘Brian' in my head and it just slipped out of my mouth," I answered, not exactly lying.

"O...kay," Daphne said. "And what piece of literary masterpiece did ‘Brian' give you to read this time?"

"Lord of the Flies*."

"He's making you read a book about flies? Eww," Daphne said, fake-shuddering. "Once again, I'm glad I'm not in that stupid club."

I chuckled. "It's not really about flies; it's about a group of young British boys that are in a plane crash after escaping a nuclear warzone. They crash onto an remote island in the Pacific and-"

Daphne interrupted me by letting out a fake snore.

"Oh, shut up," I said, pushing her gently on her shoulder. "It may not sound as interesting to you as one of your Baby-sitters Club** books..."

"Hey, I stopped reading those years ago!" she said in defense.

"But you still have the whole damned series on the bookcase in your room," I pointed out.

"Not the whole series. There are over a hundred books in the original series. I only have, like, thirty of them, plus a few of the specials apart from the original series."

"I saw one of them sitting on your nightstand a couple months back, so don't pretend like you don't read them anymore."

Daphne responded by sticking her tongue out at me.

"I still love you, though... even if you do have terrible taste in books," I assured her.

As she and I later walked down the hall toward Brian's classroom, I had to bite my lips to keep from giving him a ridiculously huge, goofy smile. He was standing outside the doorway, as usual, dressed in a crisp white shirt, a red-and-black striped tie, and black slacks.

God, I could have ripped his clothes off and licked every square inch of him right there on the tile floor...

"Good morning, Miss Chanders, Mr. Taylor," he said to us.

"Good morning, Mr. Kinney," Daphne and I answered together before walking into the room.

Daphne then whispered to me, "Or, should I say, ‘Brian'?"

"Shut the fuck up," I answered through gritted teeth as we took our seats.

"You're so in love with him," she whispered.

"And I'm so going to find a new best friend," I joked.

******************

I put Phase One of my plan into motion as soon as I got home from school that Friday afternoon. I had already told Daphne that I had an assignment I wanted to get done that evening, so I wouldn't be able to come over and watch Some Like it Hot for the hundredth time. After hanging up my coat and dropping my backpack on the couch, I walked into the kitchen and found my mom at the breakfast table.

"Hey, honey," she said to me, only glancing up for a moment as she concentrated on several papers spread out in front of her.

"What's all that?" I asked her as I looked into the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Bills," she answered in a frustrated tone. "Money is going to be tight around here until I find a job and your father and I work out how we're going to handle our finances."

I pulled out a chair next to her and slowly sat down. I almost felt bad about the load of bullshit I was about to give her.

"Um... Mom, is it okay if I borrow the car for a few hours tonight?"

She pulled off her reading glasses and looked at me. "What for?"

"I'll use some of my allowance to put gas in the tank before I come home," I insisted.

She gave me a little smile. "That's okay, sweetie. I just want to know where you plan on going, since you normally ride with Daphne. Is she having car trouble?"

"No." I took a deep breath before saying, "There's a guy in my Economics class that was talking today about how he wants to see the new Arnold Schwarzenegger movie that opens tonight, but his girlfriend doesn't want to see it and he's been having trouble with his car lately. I knew that it wouldn't be the kind of movie that Daphne would want to see either, so I asked him if he'd want to go grab a bite to eat before going to the seven o'clock show with me tonight; if you'd let me use your car, that is."

"What guy?" Mom asked me a few seconds later, seemingly after sorting out everything I just threw at her. "Do I know him?"

"Uh... no. We've never hung out outside of school before, but I've known him for a few years."

"And since when do you like Arnold Schwarzenegger?" she asked with a chuckle. "You don't even like action films."

I shrugged nonchalantly, silently hoping that this wasn't going to turn into a game of Twenty Questions before I ultimately confessed to my ruse. "It's a sci-fi/action film. I saw the preview for it on TV and thought it looked interesting."

She shook her head in disbelief. "You know where my keys are... and drive carefully."

I stood up to give her a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Mom."

*******************

I walked into the Liberty Avenue Diner around six that evening, not surprised to see that it was busier than it had been on the afternoon Brian had brought me there after his father's burial. I looked around hoping to either spot Brian, one of his friends I had met at the funeral home, or Debbie the waitress. Every booth was full, but I did not see Brian's glorious face or awesome head of hair in the crowd.

"My, my," someone with a deep, but feminine voice said at my right side.

I turned to look at who it was and jumped a little when a tall drag queen wearing a curly brown wig and tons of makeup smiled down at me.

"Don't tell me you're all by yourself, baby doll," the queen said.

I smiled and looked at the name tag on the lapel of her baby blue, fifties-style dress, which said Kiki.

"Um... I'm actually looking for someone."

"Who might that someone be?" Kiki asked.

I bit my bottom lip as I continued to look at the people scattered around the restaurant. "Brian Kinney."

Kiki laughed. "Who's not looking for Brian Fucking Kinney? Am I right?"

Several patrons seated around us spoke up, agreeing with her.

I looked down at Kiki's red stiletto heels, her manicured toenails peeking out. "Well... have you seen him today?"

"No, but I'm sure that he and the boys will be around eventually," she said. "In the meantime, did you want something to eat? The Pink Plate Special today is a fish sandwich with fries and a side of creamy coleslaw."

"Sounds good," I said as Kiki led me over to an empty stool at the counter. She left to put in my order and I soon recognized Debbie's booming laughter coming from the back of the room.

I smiled over at Debbie as she walked behind the counter a few moments later.

"Sunshine!" she squealed.

"You remember me?" I asked in surprise.

"Sure! I could never forget a gorgeous smile like yours," she said as she reached over and patted my cheek. "Are you here all by your little self, honey?"

I tried to play it cool. "I was hoping to run into Brian, actually."

Debbie narrowed her eyes at me. "You were, were you?"

I took a sip of the Dr. Pepper that Kiki had brought me. "Uh... yeah."

She chewed her gum for a few seconds as she stared at me. "Huh."

We both turned to look toward the entrance when the bell signaling that the door had been opened chimed.

"Whoever told him that he looked good in those velvet bell bottoms is a fucking liar!" Brian's friend Emmett said to the two men following behind him.

One of the men I remembered from the funeral home as Ted. The other was the man of the hour: Brian Fucking Kinney.

Although I was hoping that Brian would come into the diner, I had not planned on what I would say or do if he actually did come. Now that he was there, I seriously debated jumping over and hiding behind the counter.

"Hey, Brian!" Debbie yelled as she pointed at me. "You have a visitor."

Fuck me.

I turned to look at him, giving him an awkward wave. "Hi."

Brian first looked at me in shock and then amusement. "Well, well, well. Mr. Taylor."

Emmett smiled as he walked closer to me. "Aren't you that cutie patootie from the viewing?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Uh... yeah, I guess so."

A booth behind me magically seemed to become available at that moment and Debbie directed the three men to take it as Kiki carried my food out to me.

"Bring his plate over here, Kiki, so Cutie Patootie can join us!" Emmett yelled.

I turned to see that Ted and Emmett were sitting on one side of the booth while Brian sat alone on the other side. I picked up my drink and placed it next to the plate Kiki had left behind before taking the available spot next to Brian.

"So, are you stalking me now?" Brian asked me.

I picked up my sandwich. "A man's gotta eat."

Brian snorted out a laugh as I took a bite. "And of all the places in town..."

"Where are Michael and Ben?" Debbie asked the group.

"Michael's closing the shop tonight," Emmett answered.

"And he said that he and the professor ‘might' join us later," Brian added, pivoting his body so that his back was against the wall. He placed his right foot on top of his left knee and as a result, his right shin was pressed against my left thigh.

"The professor?" I asked Brian, my face suddenly hot from the contact of our bodies.

"Michael's boyfriend is the English teacher from Carnegie Melon that I told you about, remember?"

I nodded.

"Since the two of them have been seeing each other though, they spend most of their free time between the sheets," Emmett said, wiggling his eyebrows. "I should know - I hear them going at it constantly."

I remembered seeing Ben at the funeral home and I wouldn't blame anybody, male or female, for wanting to fuck him as often as possible. Way to go, Michael.

"Did you introduce them to each other?" I asked Brian.

"No, I met Ben when I went down to Miami in November of last year for the White Party. Fags from all over the world fly in to attend that party every year, but two alumnus of Carnegie Melon somehow ended up meeting there, a thousand miles from the Pitts."

"You never told us you met Ben at the White Party," Emmett said.

Brian shrugged. "Anyway, Mikey bought a comic book store down the street a couple months ago and one day Ben walked in-"

"You fucked him, didn't you?" Ted asked Brian.

Emmett gasped dramatically, grabbing onto Ted's arm to brace himself. "You did! Otherwise, you wouldn't have even talked to him!"

Brian opened his mouth, taking a few seconds before he could form any words. "It... it's not a big deal."

"What's not a big deal?" Debbie asked as she carried over a tray with their drinks on it.

"Brian fucked Ben last year at the White Party!" Emmett shouted loud enough for the whole block to hear.

Debbie promptly dropped the tray, the three glasses shattering as they hit the floor.

Those in the diner that were not already looking towards our table after Emmett's announcement were certainly looking after the sound of Debbie dropping the tray rang through the room.

Kiki and another server rushed over to help Debbie clean up the mess but Debbie remained standing, her eyes burning into Brian.

"Please, dear God, tell me that you used a condom!" she yelled at him.

"Of course I did. I always use a condom."

"And have you been tested since then?"

"Yes, I get tested every six months, without fail," Brian insisted. "Still negative."

Debbie made the sign of the cross on her chest.

I looked over at Emmett and Ted curiously.

"Ben's positive," Ted quietly informed me.

I mouthed oh and looked back over to my left at Brian, who was staring down at his hands in his lap. "Well, at least my trick told me beforehand and we didn't forget the condom, unlike some people I know."

I looked back at Ted, who was guiltily biting his bottom lip.

Before I could ask about what Brian was referring to, Debbie pulled her order pad out of her apron. "Okay... so, what will you boys be having?"

"I'm not hungry," Brian said before he motioned for me to get up so he could get out of the booth.

"Where are you going?" I asked him.

Instead of answering me he yelled to all the gawkers, "Show's over! Nothing left to see here," as he walked towards the door.

I was only about halfway finished with my dinner, but I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, threw a ten-dollar bill on the table, and ran after him.

He was crossing the street as I stepped outside onto the curb.

"Brian!" I yelled.

He turned around to look at me once he made it onto the sidewalk. He waited for me to join him on the other side of the street.

"Where are you going?" I asked him again.

"Nowhere that seventeen year old boys should go," he answered in a bitter tone.

He began walking away, but I quickly caught up with him and grabbed onto his arm.

"Let me come with you," I said as I looked up into his eyes. "Please?"

Brian looked up to the dark sky for a moment, probably asking someone upstairs what he did to deserve a little blonde stalker like me before sighing. "Come on," he said.

We started walking again and, taking a chance, I linked my arm through his. He looked down at where our bodies were then joined but did not pull away or tell me to let him go.

We walked over to the next block before Brian pulled me over to a short set of concrete stairs going up. I looked up and saw a red awning over the stairs which had a profile of a white rhino and the word Woody's printed on it. I remembered passing by the place on my few trips to Liberty Avenue before but was unsure of what it was.

After walking up the stairs and into the building, I realized that Woody's was a bar. There were several men lingering around the bar area and the two pool tables as well as many sitting at the tables scattered around. I followed Brian over to the bar area where he quickly caught the attention of the bartender.

"Get me my usual and a Coke for Blondie here," he said to the man.

"Just a Coke?" I asked Brian.

He smirked at me. "Eh, what the hell? It's not a school night. Put a shot in there for him, Russ."

I watched as Russ poured a few shots of Jim Beam into a glass.

"So, is Jim Beam your drink of choice?" I asked Brian, remembering the bottle of it that he had on the evening of his father's viewing.

He shrugged. "My old man used to buy it because it's cheap but more drinkable than many other cheap whiskeys. There are a few different brands that I prefer - Jack Daniels, Jameson, Maker's Mark, Johnnie Walker..."

"Do you only drink whiskey?"

Russ sat our drinks on the bar and I pulled out my wallet.

Brian pushed my hand away. "Put it on my tab," he told Russ.

We took our drinks to one of the empty tables and put our coats on the back of the chairs we took. "I'll drink anything but champagne - that shit makes me puke."

I snickered. "Too sophisticated for your taste buds?"

"Must be, because I can usually hold my liquor no matter how much I drink. Lindsay brought me to her sister's wedding a few years back, where I spent half the night on a bathroom floor at the Edgewood Country Club reception hall after only two glasses," he said before tossing back his drink.

I stirred mine with the straw that Russ had throw in. "So... um, I guess that Michael doesn't know about you and Ben?"

Brian snorted a laugh as he reached into his coat pocket for his cigarettes. "He's probably gotten no less than ten phone calls by now letting him know. I've never told him and I'm guessing that Ben hasn't either, because Mikey would have asked me about it."

I took a sip of my drink. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked as he lit up.

"Well, I was the one that asked you if you'd been the one to introduce Michael to Ben, and if I hadn't, your time with him would probably still be your dirty little secret."

He blew the smoke out of his nose, which always made me sneeze when I did that. "Fuck it. It happened before Ben and Mikey met. What's in the past is in the past."

"Yeah, but he might get mad that you didn't tell him about it," I pointed out. "I mean, I know that I don't know Michael, but-"

Brian picked up his empty glass, got up, and walked back over to the bar without a word. I followed him a few seconds later but stopped a few feet away, unsure of how to approach him. Michael was obviously a touchy subject for him for some reason.

I took a few breaths before calling out to him. "Brian?"

He didn't turn around, so I walked over to stand next to him.

"Brian... I'm sorry."

He looked over at me with a little smile. "You said that already."

"I know, but-"

He interrupted me by putting the filter end of his cigarette in front of my lips. I took a pull off of it.

"You talk too much sometimes - do you know that?" Brian asked me.

I laughed/coughed out the smoke from my lungs. "Yeah... I've been told that once or twice. It gets worse when I'm nervous."

He nodded as Russ the bartender handed a replenished drink to him. "I've noticed."

One of the pool tables opened up as we returned to our table.

"Do you play?" Brian asked me, pointing to the table.

I shook my head.

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"I'm not an athlete," I said with a shrug.

"You don't have to be an athlete to play pool," he said as he walked over to the table and sat his drink on the edge. He began racking up the balls. "With that 740 in math I'm sure you'd be great at it."

I smiled, touched that he remembered my math score on the SAT. "What does math have to do with it?"

"You use geometry to calculate which angles you need to bank the shots into the pockets," he explained.

"I don't even know how to hold the stick right," I said.

"Cue," he said.

"Huh?" 

He grabbed one of the sticks off of a rack on the wall, rubbed a small cube of blue chalk on the tip, and handed it over to me. "It's called a ‘cue,' like in ‘cue ball.'"

"Oh... I thought you meant ‘queue,' like a line," I said as I took the cue from him, feeling like an idiot.

He tossed back his second drink and put his cigarette in his mouth. "Come here."

I walked over to him and he grabbed onto my shoulders to turn me around so that my back was to his front.

"Alright. Hold the cue in your right hand," he mumbled around the cigarette as he bent me forward over the table. "Put your left hand on the felt."

I was very aware of the position he had me in and that my mouth was wide open in shock. I did as he told me and placed my left hand onto the green felt, and he positioned it so that my index finger wasn't touching the felt. He then directed me to place the end of the cue under my index finger and over the knuckle of my middle finger.

"Okay," he said, shifting behind me and, as a result, rubbing his now-obvious erection at the top of the crack of my ass.

"Now, pull your right hand back," he whispered into my left ear as he pulled my hand back, "and..."

He forced my hand to smack the tip of the cue into the cue ball, which broke the triangle of balls on the table and scattered them around. None of the balls went into any of the pockets.

"Just like that, but since you didn't pocket any balls, it's my turn," he said as snubbed the cigarette into an ash tray on the edge of the table.

Brian then grabbed a cue for himself and chalked it. "I'm going to go for the stripes, so yours will be the solids." He pocketed the yellow-and-white striped ball. "If you sink a ball, you get to take another shot."

I nodded in understanding as I watched him set up his next shot, which gave me a great view of his ass in the snug blue jeans he was wearing that evening. He tried to pocket the blue-and-white ball, but missed.

"Your turn," he said as he leaned his cue against the wall and pulled me over to the other side of the table. He helped me get into the correct position again, where he once again bent over my back and rubbed his hard dick on my ass. "See how you need to angle the shot so that the cue ball will bank off the side and hit the red solid?"

"Yeah," I croaked out, unable to move for several seconds.

"How about you hit it this time?" he whispered into my ear, although his right hand was firmly wrapped around mine.

"Okay," I whispered back before striking the cue ball, which banked at just the correct angle and knocked the red solid ball into the corner pocket.

Brian ran both of his hands down my sides as he stood up straight. "Perfect. Do you think you can set up your next shot?"

I looked around the table, where I noticed that we had accumulated a little audience. I then looked back at him. "Can you show me again?"

He smiled. "Sure."

Although it was my first time playing pool, I seemed to be doing a good job. I only had two solid balls left on the table, not including the eight ball. Explaining the rules of the traditional "eight ball" game to me, Brian said that the black eight ball is only pocketed after one player or team has no more of their balls, either stripes or solids, left on the table. Pocketing the eight ball won the game.

Of course, I was only doing well because Brian had helped me line up all of my shots, draping his body over my back as he showed me the best angles to bank the cue ball. With his help, I had only missed two of my shots.

I didn't think my dick had ever been that hard in my life and I could feel how hard he was each time he got behind me. I was sure it didn't help either of us that every time he helped with my shots he would rub my shoulders, biceps, back, or sides after each one.

I narrowly missed pocketing the solid purple ball which was marked four and Brian began to take his next turn.

"Eleven in the corner pocket," he called out.

"What's the ‘Meat Hook?'" I asked him suddenly, causing him to wildly hit the cue ball, missing the red-and-white ball marked eleven by a mile.

Brian cleared his throat before looking over at me, his eyebrows raised. "What?"

"The Meat Hook," I repeated. "I just remembered you mentioning it at Babylon last week. Is it a restaurant or something?"

Brian chuckled as he placed the butt of his cue on the floor. "No, it's a leather bar with a BDSM dungeon in the back."

I had heard of that term before but wasn't quite sure of exactly what it was.

He must have noticed the uncertainty on my face because he continued: "It's for people who are interested in the bondage, discipline, sadism, and masochism fetishes... people who either like to dominate their sexual partners or like to be dominated, which can include bondage and various forms of discipline."

"Like... what kind of discipline?" I asked, slowly walking closer to him.

He exhaled slowly before quietly saying, "Physical, which can include paddling, flogging, and orgasm denial, and psychological discipline."

I stopped walking when our bodies were just inches apart. "And how would you psychologically discipline someone?"

Brian stared at me for several seconds before finishing his third drink of the evening. "Uh... various ways, depending on the level of the dom/sub relationship between the participants. Different forms of humiliation and punishment."

"Like what?" I asked in a breathy voice.

"Well, there are different forms of behavioral training if the two of them engage in a 24/7 dom/sub lifestyle," Brian began to explain in a volume only meant for me to hear. "Let's say that the submissive in the scenario, or the ‘slave', disobeys his ‘master' whether intentionally or accidentally. The master could verbally let their slave know that they are displeased and put their slave in a ‘time out' to think about what they did before physically punishing them.

"The master could also exert complete control over their slave's life, having total say in the slave's daily schedule and how they are to act around their master. The slave may wear a collar, a leather cuff, or some type of jewelry to acknowledge they are ‘owned' by their master.

"If the participants just do it as kink every once in a while, the dom could tie up or restrain their sub in some way, maybe along with blind folding and/or gagging the sub, and then leaving them there for a certain amount of time. There's also public humiliation, if the couple goes to a club like Meat Hook or invites other people to their home to participate."

I nodded slowly and licked my dry lips. "How do you know about this stuff?"

Brian took a breath to answer, but was cut off when Emmett's voice called out, "Brian? I am so fucking sorry."

Brian turned to look at his friend, who had Ted standing at his side.

It was then that I noticed how starkly different Emmett and Ted were from each other.

Emmett was wearing a button-up silk shirt with various colors and patterns splashed on it and a pair of shiny black pants - probably pleather. Draped over his arm was a light-purple coat that looked as if it was made from ostrich feathers and his fingernails were painted blue. His brown hair was spiked with gel and glitter sparkled on his smooth face. His blue eyes were lined in black. A thick metal chain necklace with a rainbow-colored peace sign charm hung from his neck. The short boots on his feet were red with black laces. He was roughly Brian's height, which was an inch or two above six feet, and I estimated that he was in his late twenties.

Ted, on the other hand, was wearing a black wool coat over a navy polo shirt and khaki pants. His dark-brown hair laid flat on his head and he had a five-o'clock shadow. While I wouldn't classify Ted as a handsome man, he was attractive in his own way. He was just a bit taller than me, around 5'10", and was probably in his mid-thirties. I wouldn't have ever guessed that he was even bisexual, let alone gay.

What those two could have in common was a total mystery.

"Sorry about what?" Brian asked Emmett.

"About that... thing at the diner," he answered.

Brian sighed. "Well, you weren't wrong - Ben and I did fuck at the White Party last year."

"Yeah, but I didn't have to blurt it out like that," Emmett said, picking some lint off of Ted's shoulder for him.

"I would expect nothing less of you with a juicy piece of gossip like that, Emmett," Brian said as he walked over to place his cue back on the rack. He then went over to retrieve his black leather jacket from the chair he had placed it on earlier. "I'm out of here."

"Wait," I said to him, passing my cue over to a man standing nearby.

"Sorry, Sunshine," Brian said as he put his jacket on. "Babylon beckons."

"It's a little early, though, isn't it?" I asked, pulling back my sleeve to look at my watch. "The doors don't open for another hour."

"It's never too early for the boss," Brian called over his shoulder as he made his way to the door.

The boss?

I looked at Emmett and Ted in shock. "Does Brian own Babylon?"

"You didn't know that?" Emmett asked me.

I shook my head.

"Yeah, he bought it about two years ago after the previous owner was busted for tax evasion," Ted said. "I thought that it was a bad investment at the time, but so far it's paid off in spades. Hell, he used the profits to buy the comic book store for Michael's birthday this past September."

"Teddy's an accountant," Emmett explained to me as we all took a seat at the table that Brian and I had previously occupied.

"How could he afford to buy a dance club?" I asked Ted. "Being a teacher can't paythat much, can it?"

"His teaching salary just barely pays for his living expenses. He used the profits of his book sales to buy the club as well as his loft and all the obscenely expensive things in it. He lives a rather extravagant lifestyle."

I looked between the two men. "What books?"

"Brian published four erotic gay novels," Emmett said. "They're amazing."

My mouth dropped open. "I had no idea."

"He used a pen name so they wouldn't be traced back to him," Ted said. "He wrote the first one during his freshman year of college and he found a small publishing house to release it. It had moderate success in the U.S. and the publisher requested a second one. That one was noticed by a British man living here in the States who had a friend that was a publisher in the U.K. They bought the rights to Brian's first two books and they sold very well in Europe."

"They were even translated into French, German, and Italian," Emmett added.

"His last two books were only published in Europe and did even better, but then Brian developed writer's block and was unable to finish a fifth book before the publisher's deadline."

I always loved to read and write, although I do more reading than writing these days.

I remembered Brian telling me this on the afternoon he had first given me a ride home from school. It never occurred to me that he may have written a book in his earlier days.

I played with a loose thread on the cuff of my shirt and asked, "Did he ever finish the fifth book?"

"Not that we know of," Emmett said. "He gave us copies of the last two books, since they weren't released here."

"And what name did Brian write under?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Ace Morgan," Ted and Emmett both announced.

"‘Ace' like the playing card or the fact that Brian excels in everything he does," Emmett said.

"And ‘Morgan' after his mom's maiden name, which he got a kick out of seeing printed on the cover of a gay novel," Ted finished.

I nodded slowly, unable to look either of them in the eye during my next question. "Were any of those books about... BDSM?"

"Actually, yes," Emmett said with a smile. "The first two books touched on it a bit, but the third and fourth were all about it."

The three of us spent the next hour or so talking about Brian's books, with Ted and Emmett giving me all the raunchy details from each one.

Brian's first book was called Fork in the Road which explores a shy teenage boy from a conservative family, the boy's first sexual experiences with men, and his subsequent coming out at eighteen. The second book was called Step out of the Ordinary where a young man works his way through college by becoming a hustler. The third book was called Begging for It where an experienced "master" meets a "vanilla" man and the master first begins training his new slave. The fourth book was called Screaming for More where the men from Begging for It take their relationship to the next level by having a collaring ceremony and moving to a full-time dom/sub lifestyle.

I then knew that, without a doubt, I needed to get my hands on those books as soon as fucking possible. I also wondered if any of the details from the books actually came from Brian's real experiences. He at least did some amount of research for each of them.

Emmett announced at 9:15 that he was ready to go shake his "groove thing" at Babylon. We put our coats on and walked out to the sidewalk in front of Woody's.

"Uh... I should probably get going," I said to the guys, pointing my thumb in the opposite direction of Babylon where I had parked the car. I didn't want to piss off "the boss" by sneaking into his club after he banished me the last time.

"Well, it was nice talking with you, Justin," Ted said as he held out his right hand for me to shake.

"Wait a minute," Emmett said, a pout appearing on his face. "You're not coming to Babylon with us, cutie?"

"He's just a kid, Em," Ted mumbled to his friend. "We're not his babysitters."

I pretended like I didn't hear that. "No, I-"

Emmett stepped to my left side and put his arm around my shoulders. "The only time back in my hometown of Hazlehurst, Mississippi that I ever got to go dancing when I was a teenager was when me and my cousin Shelly would take our grandma's old Buick up to Jackson and sneak into a club. Not a gay club, of course, but it was better than nothing."

Before I knew it, I was being led across the street and to the end of the block where the entrance to Babylon was. Unlike when Daphne and I had gone together, Emmett, Ted, and I walked straight to the front of the long line and up to the bouncer at the door. This bouncer was the same one that was at the door the previous week - the gigantic man that looked like he wrestled grizzlies for fun.

"Good evening, Bruce," Emmett said to the bouncer.

"Good evening Mr. Honeycutt, Mr. Schmitt," Bruce replied in rumbling bass tone.

Emmett gestured towards me. "This is our new friend, Mister... um..."

"Taylor," I filled in.

Bruce nodded his head at me before motioning for the three of us to come into the building. We walked over to the podium where customers were to pay their cover charge, but after Ted and Emmett each showed the man behind the podium a card and introduced me to him as their "friend", we were able to go straight to the coat check area without having to pay a dime.

"One of the perks of being friends with the owner," Emmett said as he showed me the laminated card, which had Emmett Honeycutt and Babylon VIP Access typed on it. "We get to bring in one guest for free and we never have to pay for drinks, either."

Emmett ushered me onto the dance floor which was just as loud and crowded as it had been on my previous visit. We began dancing together with Emmett shaking his ass without a care in the world.

"Where did Ted go?" I asked Emmett at the end of the song after noticing that the man in question was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, Teddy's not much of a dancer," Emmett yelled into my ear as the next dance song began to play. "He's probably standing near the bar, clutching a bottle of Sam Adams Light while every man that passes by him turns him down."

"I thought you and Ted were together."

"Oh, God, no," he answered, chuckling. "Don't get me wrong - it's not that I wouldn't date him, but we're too good of friends to ever cross that line. Teddy's a total sweetheart and has a great body under those drab clothes, but not very many guys hang around him long enough to see it."

"How did you meet him?" I asked.

"Teddy became Brian's accountant about six years ago and he helped Brian invest the money from his books in various stocks and bonds. About a year later, Brian made a shitload of money when he sold one of his stocks that had like, tripled since he'd bought it and he brought shy little Teddy here to thank him for suggesting he buy the stock in the first place. I already knew Michael and Brian by that point, since my roommate at the time was good friends with Debbie and her brother.

"Although Teddy had been out since college, he had never been to a place like this before and was terrified, poor thing. I ended up spending the evening with him and we've been best friends ever since."

I jumped when I heard someone loudly clear their throat behind me. I turned to see Brian standing there staring down at me, hands on his hips, looking pissed as hell.

"Didn't I tell you to never come back here again?" Brian yelled at me over the music.

"Uh... I guess I forgot," I lied. "But you forgot to tell me that you own this place when you told me that I was to never come back here again."

"Come on, Brian," Emmett cooed as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Let the sweet little boy stay."

Brian placed his hands around Emmett's wrists and pulled his arms off of me. Without another word to Emmett, Brian put his right hand around the back of my neck and marched me to the metal staircase leading up to the second level of the club. He kept his hold on me all the way up the stairs, across a catwalk, and over to a closed door.

He let me go long enough to unlock the door and then steered me inside and over to a black leather couch pushed against one of the walls. He forced me to sit and he remained standing in front of me.

I looked around the small room, which had cream-colored carpeting and was painted red. A cherry-wood desk was adjacent to the couch on top of which sat a black computer, an open bottle of Beam, and a partially-filled glass of the brown liquid. A beautiful abstract painting hung on the wall behind the desk. I could still hear the music playing from outside the door, but it was muffled quite a bit.

"Nice office," I remarked. "It seems to be well-insulated."

Brian crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. "You're really testing my patience, Justin."

"Are you going to put me on the club's black list? If there is such a thing, I mean?"

"Yeah, we have a black list. But no, I won't put you on it. People have to do somethingreally offensive to get on that list."

"Like what?"

"Fucking in the backroom without a condom will certainly get you banned from coming back. Fucking on the dance floor or in the bathroom and then refusing to take it to the backroom will, too. It's an unspoken rule that women aren't allowed in the backroom and we recently had to ban a couple of dykes that kept sneaking back in. Hustlers know not to come around because you can get it in the backroom for free. We've had to ban a few rude newbies that hadn't gotten the message. Being rude to one of the employees will get you kicked out, but probably not banned unless you piss me off, too. Of course, getting into a fight on the property will get you banned and possibly arrested if someone gets hurt. Getting caught bringing in your own alcohol will also get you banned, because that's taking away from our drink sales which is where we really make our money."

"What about using or selling drugs?" I asked.

He laughed. "Probably half of the people that come through the doors are here to look for a score. There are three dealers who regularly do their business here without stepping on each other's toes: a drag queen named Anita who stakes out the bathroom and sells various pills and powders, minus coke; a leather daddy everyone calls ‘Hog' who exclusively deals coke in the backroom; and a little Puerto Rican dude named Enrique who sells weed and mushrooms under the stairs. Who knows how many other small-time sellers are out there, but one of the main three will usually run them off if they become competition." 

"And you're okay with all of that?"

"That's how it's always been, at least since I've been coming around here," Brian said. "Most of the drugs I've tried throughout the years I bought from a dealer here."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You do drugs?"

He exhaled roughly, probably scolding himself internally for divulging that bit of information to me. "I'm a club boy, Justin. Of course I do drugs."

"What kinds of drugs?"

"You name it, I've probably tried it, but nothing that requires sticking a needle into my body. Even I'm not that dumb."

"But... why?" I asked. "I mean, why would you do any drugs?"

"Most drugs just heighten your experiences. I've had some bad experiences while on various drugs, sure, but I usually enjoy myself. You've gotta live to learn and I've learned what I can and cannot handle through trial and error. Probably the most fun I've ever had in my life was the first time I dropped acid right here in this building on my twentieth birthday."

"And I guess you're okay with underage kids coming in here? Aren't you supposed to be twenty-one to go to a club?"

"Legally yes, but letting kids with fake I.D.s in here isn't a big deal compared to the other shit that goes on under this roof. I came here my first time a couple weeks after I turned eighteen."

"How old are you now?" I asked him.

He raised an eyebrow. "How old do you think I am?"

"Thirty-three?" I guessed.

"Fuck. You," he growled, punctuating each word. "I'm twenty-nine."

I shrugged innocently. "I figured early thirties, so... I didn't think you'd be that sensitive about your age."

He snarled at me for a moment. "Alright... you're welcome here at Babylon, but I don't want you to ever bring Daphne or anyone else, or to ever discuss what goes on in here with anyone. Also, I don't want you telling anyone in this building that you are my student or anyone on Liberty Avenue, for that matter.

"It seems that Emmett has taken a liking to you, so I want you to stick with him when you're here. Hell, you can go and help Theodore prop the bar up if Emmett becomes otherwise occupied. The two of them are here almost every night."

Brian then grabbed me by my upper arms and pulled me to stand. "However, I don't want you to ever go into the backroom. You're way too innocent to be around that kind of environment."

"I'm too innocent? What happened to, ‘You can go to the Meat Hook for all I give a shit'?" I asked, throwing his words back at him.

He smiled. "I didn't really mean that. You had just found me fucking some guy and you didn't even know that I was gay at the time."

"And how do you know about how innocent I am? You don't know what I have or haven't done."

Brian went to sit on the corner of his desk, picking up his glass. "Alright, stud. Educate me on the sexual history of Justin Taylor."

I looked at the painting behind the desk again. "Well... I haven't done much."

"You've never fucked before, either as a top or bottom," he confidently said.

I felt myself blush a bit. "No."

He finished his drink before saying, "And you've never given anyone head before."

"Yes, I have," I blurted.

"To whom?" he asked, ever the English teacher utilizing the appropriate who/whom usage.

"That... that's none of your business, sir," I emphatically stated.

He gave me a devilish smile. "Someone from school, perhaps?"

I looked down at the carpet, unable to speak.

"Who was it? I'd bet it was some closet case like that asshole Chris Hobbs."

I raised my head to look at him, my mouth and eyes wide open.

"Ah-ha!" he yelled, pointing at me accusingly. "No wonder he treats you like shit. I knew that something had to have happened between the two of you."

I covered my face with my hands. "Oh God."

"Was that what he said when you were blowing him?" Brian asked seductively.

"No!" I yelled, pulling my hands away. "Maybe... I don't remember. It was several months ago and it only happened once."

Brian chuckled.

"He was drunk," I added.

"Of course he was," Brian said, still smiling in amusement.

"Please don't tell anyone about this," I begged, putting my hands together in a praying motion. "No one else knows. I promised him I'd never tell anyone."

He walked over and placed his hands on the sides of my neck. "Hey, you have a lot more dirt on me than I do on you, so your secret's safe with me, Sunshine."

I smiled a bit as I looked up into his eyes. "Thank you."

He looked down at my lips for a few seconds before leaning in and giving me a short but sweet kiss.

"Fuck," Brian hissed as he pulled away.

I put my hands on the back of his head and pulled him back to me, locking my lips with his again. I felt him eagerly return the kiss, our tongues soon dancing together. I could taste the remnants of the whiskey in his mouth and I vowed then to only drink Jim Beam in the future.

I reached down with my right hand and cupped his dick, which seemed to be just as hard as it had been when we had played pool earlier that evening at Woody's. He moaned into my mouth and roughly shoved me against the door, knocking the wind out of me a bit.

I continued to rub Brian through his jeans as I sucked on his tongue, but I was aching for more contact as he grabbed my ass with both hands. I popped the button on his jeans and lowered his zipper, and I found that he was not wearing any underwear when his cock sprang out of his open fly into my hand.

Holy shit... I didn't know how the hell he fit that thing in his pants, especially when it was as hard as it was at that moment.

I started jerking his long, thick cock as we thoroughly ravaged each other's mouths. He soon began thrusting into my hand, moaning and whimpering out each breath. I felt my own cock crying for attention, but I silently told it to be patient.

I wasn't sure if something clicked in Brian's head about a minute after I started to stroke his cock but it was as if he had suddenly realized what he was doing and who he was doing it with. He abruptly pulled his head back, yanked my hand off of him, and jumped away as if I had just burst into flames.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Brian yelled, somehow stuffing himself back into his jeans. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and paced the floor for a moment before looking back over at me with a scowl on his face.

"Brian," I said, my voice quivering in sadness that the beautiful moment was over.

He pushed me out of the way before wrenching the door open and storming out of his office.

I began to follow after him, making sure to close the door behind me. Brian was a few steps in front of me, shoving men out of his way as he walked across the catwalk and back down the stairs. I stopped on the third step up from the floor so I could see where he was going, and I choked back a sob as I watched him elbow through the crowded dance floor and turn into the hallway leading to the backroom.

That son of a bitch... He let me get him all revved up only to go and try to find someone else to finish the job in the one place that he forbade me to go?

Fuck that.

I employed Brian's crowd-clearing method and stalked across the dance floor, ignoring my upper-class manners and not apologizing to anyone that I had to shove out of my way. I then walked down the hallway and into the backroom, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim blue lighting. I could see at least a dozen men in various sexual configurations but I didn't pay much attention to them like I had during my last visit.

I found Brian standing a few feet in front of me, seemingly scoping the place out. He obviously didn't think I'd have the guts to tail his ass because he was looking everywhere but directly behind him.

A shirtless, muscular brunette with a goatee and a nipple ring approached Brian not five seconds later, and Brian walked over to an open spot against the wall. Goatee followed him, and Brian must have sent him some kind of telepathic signal, because Goatee dropped down to his knees and opened Brian's fly without a word exchanged between them.

It was then that I had some idea of why they called him "Brian Fucking Kinney" at the diner - he didn't even have to try. He was like the God of Fucking... or something to that affect.

Well, fuck you, Mr. Fucking Kinney.

I walked over to stand a few feet behind where Goatee was kneeling. He must have been working some special magic on Brian's cock, because the owner of said cock had his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, and his hands grasped around the back of Goatee's head.

I employed Brian's attention-grabbing method of loudly clearing one's throat, which seemed to work because his eyes immediately popped open and locked onto mine. That was the only movement he made however, and he continued to allow Goatee to work his magic.

If he was angry about me breaking his rule about going to the backroom, he didn't show it.

One of my fellow twinks, a skinny brunette around my height wearing a tight t-shirtstepped in front of me a few seconds later, blocking my view.

"Hey," he said to me.

I was well aware of what the backroom was for by that point, so I decided to just go for it.

"Want to suck me off?" I asked him out loud, since I didn't think I possessed telepathy like Mr. Fucking Kinney did.

He gave me a big smile. "Yeah."

There just so happened to be empty space along the wall immediately to the right of Brian and Goatee, so I walked over to stand next to Brian, our shoulders no more than two feet apart. I also decided to employ Brian's method of letting the trick do all the work by allowing the twink to open my fly and pull down my pants and underwear enough to expose my cock. Luckily, my anger towards Brian had done nothing to kill the erection that he had given me in his office.

I turned my head to the right to look at Brian as - shit, I didn't even know his name - wrapped his hand around the base of my cock and licked the tip of it. I suddenly remembered that no one had ever touched me like that before, and I felt my knees buckle for a moment before forcing myself to stand up straight. I really did not want to lean against the wall, since I didn't know how many different loads of jizz had been previously deposited on it, but it was the only way for me to remain upright.

The twink - he looked like a "Joey" to me - licked and sucked around the head of my cock which was no doubt dripping pre-cum. It felt good but I was mostly focused on Brian's profile since he seemed to be refusing to look at me. I glanced down and saw that Goatee must have been deep-throating Brian's cock because the tip of Goatee's nose was brushing Brian's pubes with each bob of his head.

I would have been impressed by Goatee's skills if I wasn't so pissed off at the man he was servicing.

Once again taking a page from Brian's playbook, I grabbed onto Joey's head with both hands and forced him to take more of my cock into his mouth. I gasped at the sensation of Joey's hot, wet mouth surrounding me and I knew that I wasn't going to last very long, especially when he moved the hand that had been around my cock down to play with my balls. His other hand gripped the back of my right thigh.

My gasp must have caught Brian's attention because he finally turned his head to look at me. We stared at each other as we continued to fuck our respective trick's mouth, both of us moaning our approval. I could feel Brian's hot breath on my face.

I felt Joey swallow around my cock and accidently banged the right side of my head into the wall as his throat restricted around my shaft. I pumped into his mouth three more times before I came, unable to keep my eyes open or hold back from yelling out in pleasure. My orgasm must have set Brian's off because he followed me a second later, shouting just as loud as I had.

It took every bit of strength I had to remain standing, my whole body vibrating in the afterglow of the first blowjob I had ever received. Joey was kind enough to fix my clothes for me, and I turned my head to look at him as he stood up in front of me.

I felt like such a slut.

"Thank you," I said to him, minding my manners.

"My pleasure," he answered with a smile. "You have a beautiful dick."

I couldn't help but laugh, never hearing that part of my anatomy be complemented before. "Again, thank you."

Joey gave me a quick kiss before heading off towards the back of the room, not sticking around for me to return the favor... not that I was especially willing to offer.

It was then I noticed that Brian and Goatee had disappeared. I walked a bit farther into the room but did not see Mr. Fucking Kinney anywhere.

When the alarm blared at nine the next morning, all I wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. It was a Saturday but I was due at school the next hour for our first cast read-through of the script for the Christmas play.

I had gotten home from Babylon the night before a little bit after eleven, which was much earlier than I originally expected. After the incident with Brian in his office and his sudden departure after the backroom blowjobs, however, I decided to get the hell out of there and drive home. I had stayed up watching infomercials until four AM, too upset to fall asleep any earlier.

I threw on a gray sweater and a pair of black jeans before stumbling down the stairs. My mother, who rarely ever slept past sunrise even on the weekend, was doing the crossword puzzle from the newspaper and drinking coffee at the kitchen table.

"What are you doing up so early?" she asked me.

"Play rehearsal, remember?" I mumbled as I took a coffee cup out of the cabinet.

"Oh, that's right. Can I make you something to eat before you go?" she asked, not waiting for my response before getting up to open the refrigerator door.

"No, I'll just have some Cheerios," I answered.

Ever the loving mother, she pulled the cereal box out of the cabinet for me. "How was your movie last night?"

I bit my bottom lip as I dumped a couple spoonfuls of sugar into my coffee. "I didn't really care for the ending."

"Oh," she said sympathetically. "Well, I hope you had fun spending time with your friend. What was his name?"

I carried my cup over to the table, unable to look at her. "Joey... uh, would you mind dropping me off at school? I may be able to get a ride home from someone; otherwise, I'll walk home."

"I planned on staying home today to do some cleaning, so you can take the car."

I smiled up at her as she placed my bowl of cereal and a spoon in front of me. "Thanks."

********************

I parked Mom's car in the parking lot closest to the entrance of the school's auditorium and went inside. It wasn't quite ten o'clock yet but it seemed like everyone from the cast and crew had arrived.

All except Brian, that is.

There were a few students sitting in seats out in the audience talking and laughing together while the others sat or stood on the stage. Miss Peterson, who was in charge of set design, was standing towards the back of the stage with students from the set crew. My friend September, who had been chosen to play one of the five characters in the play, was sitting on the edge of the stage.

"Good morning, Justin," she said to me, a bright smile on her face.

God, I hate morning people...

"Hey, September," I said as I hopped up to sit next to her.

She started babbling about some reality TV show that I had never heard of before and I half listened as I alternated between watching for Brian to walk through the door and looking down at my watch. I wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing him but he was the director of the play so his presence was required.

At a quarter after, Miss Peterson walked over to me. "Shouldn't Mr. Kinney be here by now?"

As she often did, Miss Peterson was wearing a long floral skirt that day. I felt odd talking to her from where I was sitting, as if I were talking to her twat, so I stood up to look at her face.

"Yeah, he should have been here fifteen minutes ago, at least."

She pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her cardigan. "I'll call him to see what the hold up is."

Miss Peterson walked to the edge of the stage where she could have some privacy to call Brian. She walked back over to me with a look of concern on her face a couple of minutes later.

"I called Brian's loft and his cell and didn't answer. The cell goes straight to voice mail so he must have turned it off last night; he's good at that."

I let out an angry sigh. "He'd better not have forgotten about this rehearsal... it's his fucking play."

Miss Peterson looked at me in surprise.

"Pardon my French," I said sheepishly.

She smiled. "We just spoke about this yesterday at lunch so he shouldn't have forgotten about it."

"It's no telling what time he left Babylon last night," I said to no one in particular.

"You know about Babylon?" Miss Peterson asked, more surprised at that than she had been at my cursing.

"Uh... yeah," I said, looking down at the stage floor hoping she wouldn't press me for details.

"Hmm," Miss Peterson said. "Well, I would go by his loft to check on him but I can't leave when I'm the only faculty member here to supervise everyone."

"I'll go," I blurted out.

Fuck, what was wrong with my mouth that morning? It was like it wasn't even connected to my brain...

"You know where he lives?" Miss Peterson asked, her eyes wide.

"No," I quickly said. "But I have my mom's car, so..."

"Okay," Miss Peterson said as the two of us walked over to the short staircase leading down to the main floor. "He lives at Six Fuller Street on the corner of Tremont Avenue. The outside door doesn't always close all the way, but if it is closed you can only get in if someone in the building buzzes you in. He's the only one on the fourth floor right where you get off the elevator."

********************

I found myself at the corner of Fuller and Tremont about fifteen minutes later. Tremont was three blocks from Liberty Avenue running parallel. I looked around for Brian's Jeep but did not see it parked anywhere on the street.

I found the building that was marked 6 Fuller above the main wooden door, parked across the street behind a black El Camino with orange flames painted on it, and got out of the car. I could see that the door to the building was not closed all the way so I didn't have to be buzzed in. I pushed the door open and found a set of concrete stairs leading up as well as an old wooden freight elevator. The elevator was already at the landing so I stepped inside and pulled the wooden grate down.

After riding up to the fourth floor, which was the top floor of the building, I pushed the grate up and stepped out. Just as Miss Peterson had said, there was a gray metal door right me.

I saw no doorbell so I knocked. I waited for several seconds, listening for any noises or footsteps from inside. I heard nothing so I knocked again.

"Brian!" I called out. I knocked once again a few seconds later but there was still no answer.

I began to feel worried by that point, wondering if he was even in there, and if he was, if he was okay. I grabbed onto the door handle to see if the door was locked or not and was able to pull the sliding door over to the right. I only opened it wide enough for me to fit my head in.

I looked inside the loft where I could see a large, open room with a beautiful wood floor. Two black leather jackets laid on the floor along with a black pair of boots that had obviously been carelessly kicked off. There was a partial wall several feet in front of me and the wall had several frosted glass panels in the middle of it that blocked the area behind it. The wall had openings on each side and there were two steps leading up to a raised platform behind the wall.

"Brian?" I said again.

I heard a groan and pulled the door open a bit wider so I could walk inside.

"Hello?" I said.

"Who's out there?" I heard Brian rasp.

I didn't say anything but continued to slowly walk into the spacious room. I looked over to my left where I saw a kitchen area with an island built across from the stove and sink. There was a round white table with matching chairs placed across from the refrigerator at the far end of the wall under a set of windows covered with silky white curtains.

I turned to look in front of me again when I heard one of the glass panels creak open only to find Brian standing there in his birthday suit, his morning wood on full display.

"Christ!" he yelled when he saw me. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

I couldn't help but gawk at the gorgeous man whose naked body was pure perfection.

"Weren't you supposed to be somewhere this morning, Mr. Kinney?" I asked him, my dick hardening in spite of my anger at him.

He scratched his bed-rumpled head, squinting at me. "Uh... the Bahamas? I don't fucking-"

"The rehearsal, asshole!" I yelled. "Everyone's at the auditorium waiting for you. Miss Peterson told me where you lived so I could come and make sure you weren't dead or something."

"Shit," he said, looking genuinely upset about sleeping in before turning around.

"Hey!" he yelled at someone. "Get up!"

"Huh?" I heard a man groan. "What time is it?"

"It's time for you to get the fuck out!" Brian yelled back.

He then walked down the stairs on my left and asked me, "Do you know how to make a creatine and soy shake?"

I scoffed. "No."

"Would you please pour me some guava juice, then?" he asked, pointing toward the refrigerator. "I have to take a shower."

"I'm not your butler," I snapped. "I'm going back to school. See you there."

"I'll have to call a cab unless you have a way to get us both there," Brian said as he rubbed his eyes.

Brian's overnight guest - a bald guy whose arms were heavily covered in tattoos - walked down the stairs carrying his shoes. He sat down on one of the steps to put them on.

"What's up?" he asked me.

I stared at him blankly before looking back at Brian. "Why would you need to call a cab? Where's your Jeep?"

"It's still parked behind Babylon. What's-His-Name drove us last night," he said, motioning towards the tattooed man.

Tattoo chuckled. "Yeah, you were really fucked up."

Brian glared at the man before walking back up the stairs and turning to the left into what had to be the bathroom. I could distinctly hear Brian taking a piss in the toilet, letting out a groan of relief.

"I have my mom's car so I can drive us. I'll drop you at Babylon after rehearsal," I yelled to Brian.

As I turned to walk to the kitchen I noticed a large painting of a bald, naked man on the wall behind the bathroom. A black chaise lounge chair sat between it and the dining room table.

I started looking through Brian's cabinets where I found one containing glasses and coffee cups. While I was pouring Brian his juice Tattoo grabbed one of the jackets from the floor and finally walked out of the loft, leaving the door open and taking the stairs.

I put the bottle of juice back into the refrigerator before checking out the rest of the loft. The right side of the room contained an office area with a computer desk as well as the living room. There was a white couch flanked by two glass end tables facing the windows opposite the ones over the dining room table along with a glass coffee table sitting on a furry white area rug. Towards the back of the room was a large TV with two white chairs facing it.

I assumed that the building was originally some type of warehouse or factory before being converted into apartments. Four steel beams held up the high ceiling, and the heating/air conditioning ducts were exposed overhead.

I had always tried to imagine what Brian's home looked like but it was never anything like what I was looking at. That glamorous loft with its expensive-looking furnishings, however, was the perfect place for a man like Brian.

I took the stairs on the right side of the panel wall up to what was obviously Brian's bedroom. The king-sized bed took up most of the space and was covered in wrinkled gray sheets. A black comforter laid crumpled at the foot of the bed. A row of eight long, unlit fluorescent light bulbs were attached horizontally to the wall above the bed.

Beyond the bed I could see the open doorway to the bathroom. I quietly walked towards the bathroom where I could smell either Brian's shampoo or soap wafting out and could hear the shower running.

I bypassed the bathroom to go over to Brian's closet which had sliding frosted-glass doors. I slid one of the doors open where I found all of Brian's beautiful suits hanging. I ran my hands along them stopping to peak at a few of the labels: Armani, Dolce & Gabbana, Hugo Boss, Gucci, Prada.

No wonder he looked so damned sharp at school - the price of just one of his suits could buy me a used car.

I opened one of the drawers of the dresser to the left of the bed and found a bunch of wife beater tanks and t-shirts all in black and white. The drawer beneath that held button-up shirts, several of them black and white. The next one held sweaters in various colors. The bottom drawer held black and blue jeans.

I was looking through the top drawer of Brian's dresser which was full of black and gray boxer-briefs and socks when Brian walked out of the bathroom.

"See anything you like, Sunshine?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

I jumped back and saw that Brian had a red towel wrapped around his waist. His hair and perfectly-toned upper body were dripping wet. He had skipped shaving but even with dark stubble covering his face and neck he looked good enough to eat.

"Uh... sorry," I said as I backed away from the dresser.

"If you were going to play with my undies, I'd rather you do it while I was in them," he said in a sultry voice, grabbing a pair of gray boxer-briefs from the drawer.

I felt a rush of heat flow through my body before I remembered that I was supposed to be mad at him. "Get dressed. Your juice is on the counter."

I walked back down the stairs and sat in one of the dining room chairs, keeping my head turned so I could not see into the bedroom.

"So, that guy was pretty ugly," I yelled over my shoulder.

"What guy?" Brian asked.

I snorted out a laugh. "Damn, did you forget about him already? I'm talking about that Hell's Angel that just walked out of here."

"Like he said, I was really fucked up last night. He drove an El Camino for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, I saw it out front... So, I guess if you get enough drugs and alcohol into you you'll bring just about anyone home, huh?" I asked bitterly.

"Well, they have to have a dick," he said. "I'd have to drink and drug myself blind before I'd take a total troll home, though, which rarely ever happens."

I waited for Brian to walk out into the kitchen, wearing a maroon sweater and black jeans, before asking my next question. "What did you take last night?"

He walked over to the counter and picked up his glass of juice. "Beam, of course... smoked a little weed, snorted some coke." He took a few gulps of the juice. "And little bit of Special K."

"The cereal?" I asked, imagining someone crushing up the golden flakes and snorting it like cocaine.

"It's a nickname for ketamine," he answered. "It's a dissociative anesthetic - kind of like PCP but so much better. PCP makes me want to fight while K makes me want to fuck."

"Jesus, Brian! You're going to kill yourself putting all that shit into your body."

"Oh, please, I've been doing it for years and I'm still here."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what all the addicts say before they die!" I yelled at him, tears welling up in my eyes.

Brian laughed as he walked over and ruffled my hair. "You're such a fucking drama queen, Taylor... maybe you should have auditioned for a part in the play instead of asking me to make you the stage manager."

He finished his juice before putting the glass into the sink. "Let's go, kid."

I was so angry at Brian that I neglected to say a word to him as we rode the elevator downstairs and walked out to my mom's car. He told me to stop by a Dunkin' Donuts on the way to the school.

I took the caramel mocha latte and the bag containing a Boston Kreme that Brian had ordered from the girl in the drive thru and handed them to Brian. He wolfed down the donut in the time it took me to turn back onto the street.

"Damn, this is good. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday," he said with his mouth full of the pastry.

"Well, you're the one who stormed out of the diner yesterday evening before having any dinner," I reminded him.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin before picking up his coffee from the drink holder in the center console, neglecting to comment.

Remembering why Brian had left the diner so abruptly, I asked him, "So, did Michael and Ben ever come to Babylon last night?"

"Oww, fuck, that's hot," Brian hissed after taking a drink of the coffee. "No, Mikey and the professor were no-shows."

"Do you think that means maybe no one told Michael about your and Ben's hook up?"

"I don't fucking know... I'm assuming that the rumor mill somehow managed to stay contained within the four walls of the diner. Or maybe Mikey did hear and he went to confront Ben about it first before re-claiming his territory by having sex with him all night afterwards."

I pulled into the school parking lot a few minutes later and we both hustled inside. Brian apologized profusely to the cast and crew about being late, calling himself a dunce for forgetting to set his alarm clock the night before. Everyone forgave the charming bastard and we were able to get started with the script read-through.

We finished up about two hours later and since it was then nearing one o'clock, everyone was ready to leave to find themselves some lunch. Brian and I hopped back in the car and I began steering us towards Liberty Avenue.

"Are Mommy and Daddy ever going to give you a car of your own?" Brian asked as he looked at the pink steering wheel cover under my hands.

I sighed. "My parents insist on perpetually treating me like little kid. They say I'm too young to have a car since they were both in college before they had a car of their own. They won't even give me a fucking cell phone."

"Doesn't your family own Taylor Electronics?" Brian asked, referring to the store my father opened using a small business loan when I was in elementary school.

"My dad runs it, yeah."

"I'm sure the store brings in a nice monthly revenue stream so he should be able to buy you a car. Hell for what he charges, compared to chain stores, I'd sure as fuck hope so."

"He brings in enough to pay our country club dues at least," I said. "Things are about to change, however, now that my parents are getting divorced and my dad will have two houses to pay for."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that," Brian said sympathetically.

"Don't be. Mom found out last month that Dad has been fucking around on her for years. From what I heard through the walls, she was only able to pry the information out of the son of a bitch after discovering during a routine exam that she had gonorrhea."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, but my meek little mother is trying to keep things quiet among their hoity-toity friends, so she's not wanting to take his ass for all he's worth like she ought to. That would get too many tongues wagging."

"Wouldn't want that," Brian said sarcastically. "That's why the institution of marriage is such bullshit - people thinking that they're fucking fortune tellers going to spend the rest of their lives with one person."

"Some people do," I pointed out. "Both sets of my grandparents were married for years and years, although both of my grandpas are dead now."

"Even if married couples do stay together until one of them dies that doesn't mean they were happy. My parents sure as hell proved that."

We were on Liberty Avenue by that point and I pulled into an available space a short distance from the diner.

"Babylon is the next block up, you know," Brian said.

I cut the engine and unhooked my seatbelt. "It's past my usual lunch time and I'm hungry. You don't have to come in. I'm sure you've walked from here to Babylon thousands of times before."

Brian sighed before getting out of the car. Together, we walked across the street and into the diner.

We saw Ted and Emmett and who I remembered as being Ben and Michael sitting in a booth close to the entrance. They all had half-eaten plates of food in front of them.

"Cutie!" Emmett yelled the moment he saw me.

I gave him a smile as Brian and I walked over to their table. "Hey."

"Sit your hot little buns down here," Emmett said to me as he pushed Ted closer to the wall to make room on their side of the booth. Brian then sat down across from me, next to Michael.

"Guys, you remember Justin from the funeral home, don't you?" Emmett asked Michael and Ben.

"Yeah... you're one of Brian's students, right?" Ben asked wearily.

I nodded.

Ben looked around Michael to address Brian. "Is it wise for you to be fraternizing with a student like this?"

Brian cleared his throat before getting the attention of the passing waitress. "Coffee, Betty, and a turkey on whole wheat, no mayo."

"Sure, Brian," she said. "And what would your adorable little friend like?"

"He's not my little friend," Brian mumbled.

I gave Betty my brightest smile. "He would like a Coke and a burger with fries, please."

"So," Michael said to Brian after Betty walked away. "I heard something very interesting last night."

"Uh-oh, here we go," Ted said.

"Showtime!" Emmett tittered.

"And what was that, Mikey?" Brian asked, looking down at the chipped table top.

"Apparently you and my boyfriend fucked at the White Party last year," Michael casually stated.

"He wasn't your boyfriend at the time," Brian said. "Besides, who haven't I fucked in this burg?"

"Haven't fucked me," Michael said.

"Or me," Emmett chimed in.

"Or me," Ted added.

After a few seconds of silence on my part, Brian shot me a dirty look.

"Or me," I said, catching Ben's relieved expression.

"That's because I don't fuck my friends," Brian said.

So, apparently I was Brian's "friend" now...

"Ben was a stranger to me then and how the fuck was I to know that he'd eventually start dating my best friend? I mean hell, I didn't even know he was from Pittsburgh at the time."

"You couldn't have known," Michael said. "Anyway, I think it's hilarious."

"How so?" Brian asked.

"Because of course you've fucked Ben," Michael said in an amused tone. "He's only the hottest man on the planet."

"I'm sorry but that title is already taken, thank you very much," Brian said as he looked at the manicured nails of his right hand. "No offense, Professor."

I couldn't help but smile at Brian's audacity... although he wasn't wrong.

"Anyway, I'm fine with it," Michael claimed.

"Really?" Emmett asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't be," Ted mumbled.

There were several seconds of awkward silence at our table before Emmett turned to ask me, "So, baby, are you coming to Babylon again tonight?"

"Again?" Ben asked, looking over to glare at Brian. "You actually let him into your club?"

"Pass the sugar," Brian said to Ted, pointing at the container of sweetener packets pushed against the wall.

"I wasn't planning on it," I answered Emmett.

"Oh, but you have to!" he whined. "I was only able to dance with you for five minutes last night before the Big Bad Wolf stole you away from me."

Ben shot Brian another perturbed look.

"I won't have a ride," I said. "I actually need to get the car back to my mom soon or she'll wonder where the hell I've been."

"Teddy can drive you tonight," Emmett said, looking over at his friend. "Right, Teddy?"

"Uh... sure," Ted said.

"Yay," Emmett said, clapping his hands together.

I looked up at Brian who seemed to be barely containing his anger.

"Unless you don't want me to," I said to him.

He scoffed. "It's not like I'll have to worry about the two of you ending up in the backroom together."

"And why not?" Emmett asked defensively. "You think that just because we're both bottoms that nothing could ever happen between us?"

We're both bottoms?

"Huh?" I asked Emmett.

"Well, duh," Brian said. "If I ever saw the two of you in bed together, naked, I'd only assume that the heater went out and you were trying to use your body heat to keep each other warm."

I looked between Emmett and Brian, perplexed over both of their comments, but decided to focus on Brian's.

"Oh, really?" I asked him.

"Really," he affirmed.

I responded to that by reaching over to grab Emmett and plant my lips on his.

Emmett quickly got with the program by wrapping his arms around me and heartily kissing me back, neither of us coming up for air until several seconds later.  

"Mmm," he said, licking his lips. "That was yummy."

I admit that I got hard kissing Emmett although I wasn't particularly attracted to him. I was a seventeen year old boy, however, so it didn't take much stimulation.

I gave him another peck before looking back at Brian, a shit-eating grin on my face.

"Touché," he snarked.

********************

All of us walked out of the diner after Brian and I finished our meals. Michael and Ben left together, hand-in-hand, most likely to go home and fuck. Brian lit a cigarette and walked away without a word to anyone, heading towards Babylon.

After getting my address from me, Ted said that he would come by to pick me up at eight.  

"No, wait," I said to him. "How about you pick me up at the bus stop at the south end of my block so my mom doesn't ask me about the strange car in front of our house?"

"Teddy doesn't drive a ‘strange car,'" Emmett said as he pointed to a silver convertible parked across the street. "He drives a Volvo."

Emmett gave Ted a kiss on his cheek before Ted got into his Volvo and took off.

"Well, I guess I'll go home to get some beauty rest before tonight," Emmett said to me. "My apartment is only a few blocks away."

"Hey," I said before he could walk off. "About that kiss..."

"I know, honey," he said with a smile. "You were just trying to show up Brian."

I looked down at the sidewalk. "Yeah."

"You're obviously in love with him," he added.

I looked back up into Emmett's baby-blues, smiling guiltily.

"I saw your synchronized blowjobs in the backroom last night," he confessed. "I was back there with a stud of my own and all eyes were on the two of you. The way you two were looking at each other, you could have come spontaneously without any tricks swallowing your cocks. Hell, I think the whole room did, just watching."

I felt my face redden. "Well, any kind of relationship I have with Brian outside of school is forbidden. In fact, I shouldn't be seeing him outside of school at all or I could get him in a lot of trouble. However, I doubt that anyone else from St. James would let themselves be seen on Liberty Avenue..."

"You're a senior though, right?" Emmett asked.

"Yes, thankfully."

"Well then, you're only his student for, what, six more months?" 

"That's what I keep telling myself but it doesn't make me want him any less, in the interim. I've had a crush on him since the first time I saw him in my freshman year. My attraction to him was what made me finally admit to myself that I'm gay."

Emmett pointed out, "You're a red-blooded gay boy, of course you would be attracted to Brian Kinney."

We laughed.

"Um... what did you mean earlier when you said, ‘We're both bottoms'?" I asked.

Emmett put his arm around me. "Honey, I've been around the block plenty of times and I know a fellow bottom when I see one. Sure, maybe you feel the urge to top every once in a while, but otherwise you love nothing more than a stiff one in the tush, am I right?"

"No! I mean-" I started to say, feeling myself blush again. "I'm a virgin, so..."

"But you've at least put a dildo in your ass before, haven't you?"

I frantically looked around, hoping that no one was listening. "I... no."

"No?" Emmett repeated. "You mean, you don't even own a dildo?"

"I've never even been in a sex shop before, so I haven't had the opportunity to buy one," I said, feeling like a major prude.

"Oh, you poor little thing," he said, putting his hand on my cheek. "Don't worry, sweetie. Auntie Em will save you."

Emmett took me down the street and into a store halfway between the diner and Babylon. I quickly realized that it was a sex shop by all of the phallic toys and man-on-man porno magazines on display.

"Alrighty," Emmett said, walking me over to a large selection of dildos on the wall. "We need to find you something in the Goldilocks territory: not too big, not too small, but juuuuust right."

"I'm... I'm guessing that you own...?"

"Oh, several," he confirmed. "That one's my favorite."

He pointed to a purple dildo that was as big as a man's fist and forearm and laughed when he saw me recoil in horror.

"I'm kidding!" he yelled. "But I do own this one, though."

Emmett then pointed to a blue dildo that was roughly the size and length of Brian's cock.

"Looks just like Brian's," he said, reading my mind. "But not that color, of course."

I looked at him in surprise.

"Oh, just because I personally haven't had the pleasure of experiencing Mr. Kinney's nine inch monster that doesn't mean I haven't seen it at full mast enough times to save it in my mind's eye. I've seen him in action many times over the years."

"So, he does get around a lot, huh?" I asked sadly.

"If you had every fag in town drooling at your feet, you would, too."

I took the "Brian-sized" dildo that Emmett pointed out from the shelf and read the packaging, seeing that it was indeed nine inches long.

"Well, it's not like I don't get offers..."

"Of course you do, sweetie. You're absolutely beautiful and you have the most perfect bubble butt. And despite what someone may think, I'd do a lot more than just warm you up in bed if I had the chance."

I smiled. "Thanks."

Emmett ran his finger over the package in my hand. "But, you're saving yourself, right?"

In the end, Emmett determined that the nine-inch dildo was too big for a beginner like me and talked me into choosing a flesh-colored one that was only six inches long with a smaller girth. Considering that I would be sticking the thing up my virgin ass, I agreed that the smaller one was the better choice.

While Emmett perused over a large display of lubricants, I went over to a shelf filled with paperback books, which all appeared to be novels. I quickly skimmed the last names on the spines and nearly squealed for joy when I found Ace Morgan printed on one of them - Brian's penname.

I pulled the book from the shelf and saw that it was his second publication, Step Out of the Ordinary, where the main character becomes a hustler to put himself through college. The picture on the cover showed the back of a thin brunette walking down a darkened street, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Blurred figures stood at the curb at the end of the block.

I walked over to Emmett and showed him the book, which was used but still in good condition.

"Look what I found."

Emmett smiled. "I could loan you my copy, if you'd like."

"How about I buy this one for myself and after I read it, I'll borrow the other three from you? I'm a very fast reader."

"Sure," he said before showing me a bottle lube. "This is a good one to use with toys."

We soon made our way to the counter where a guy with numerous facial and ear piercings stood behind the register.

"Well, who have we got here, Honeycutt?" the man asked as he flashed me a creepy smile.

"Don't call me 'Honeycutt,'" Emmett snarled. "This is Justin. Justin this Phil, but everyone calls him ‘Rat.'"

He sure looked like a rat, with his beady eyes and huge front teeth.

Rat rang up my purchases but Emmett stopped me when I tried to pull out my wallet.

"No, baby, let me. Consider it a ‘Welcome to Queerdom' gift."

I chuckled. "Thanks."

We then went next door to a clothing store called Torso which Emmett said was where he worked. The sales clerk - who was even more flamboyant than Emmett, if that was even possible - gave him a hard time about being given the weekend off.

"You're fucking Billy, aren't you?" the clerk asked Emmett.

"When the mood strikes," Emmett answered before taking me over to a rack of shirts.

"Who's Billy?" I whispered.

"The owner of the store, who I would never fuck. Jesse over there knows that. It's just a little game we play when one of us gets better hours than the other."

I couldn't help but crack up laughing. "My friend Daphne and I do the same thing with our teachers when one of us gets an A."

Using his 25% off discount, Emmett bought me an icy blue, short-sleeved button-up shirt that shimmered in the light and a pair of black rayon pants. He instructed me to wear the outfit that night guaranteeing that no one, including Brian, would be able to keep their eyes off of me.

Although Emmett said that he only lived a few blocks away, I offered to give him a ride home. He, in exchange, gave me some tips on how to use the dildo which turned out to be much more complex than just lubing the thing up and sticking it in to the hilt. He also explained how to properly clean it and how I could use it to practice my fellatio skills, if I wished.

He gave me a quick kiss goodbye before sashaying into his apartment building.  

I pulled into our driveway about fifteen minutes later. Before going into the house, I put the smaller sex shop bag into the larger clothing bag.

"Hi, honey," Mom said from the living room when I walked through the door. "You've been gone for hours. Your rehearsal ran pretty late, huh?"

"Um..." I said as I looked down at the black shopping bag in my hand, which had Torsoprinted on it in hot pink. I safely guessed that Mom had never heard of the store before and wouldn't know what street it was on. "No, I stopped for lunch and went shopping."

Mom began walking towards me. "Ooh, what'd you get?" she asked, ever the shopping fanatic.

"A shirt and some pants," I said as I started walking up the stairs. "I'd show them to you, but I have some homework to do."

I shut and locked my bedroom door in case she decided to follow after me. I took the sex shop bag out and spread the contents on my bed. Along with the dildo, lube, and Brian's book, Emmett also bought me a black velvet bag to store the dildo in and a tube of pain relief ointment in case I had some soreness or inflammation after using it.

I shoved everything but the book in between my mattress and box springs before sitting down to read the book's jacket. Inside the back flap, which often contained a picture of the author and some biographical information, it only contained a short biography:

Ace Morgan has written for numerous publications, including The Advocate, The Gay & Lesbian Review Worldwide, and Pittsburgh Out. Mr. Morgan's first novel, Fork in the Road, won a Lambda Literary Award. He is currently at work on his next novel and lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Much like the man behind the pseudonym, this "Mr. Morgan" seemed like quite an enigma.

I wanted to dive right into the first chapter, but I wasn't lying when I told Mom I had homework. I put the book under the mattress and sat down at my computer desk to work on an assignment for Brian's creative writing class, which was due the upcoming Wednesday.

For this assignment, we were to write a letter to our freshman selves. The letter must have included a paragraph about something fun that had happened to us within the last three years. The next paragraph had to include a story about something stressful or difficult that had happened over the past three years that we did not handle very well along with some advice to our younger selves for how better we could have dealt with it. Lastly, the letter was to include a goal that we did not accomplish within the last three years with a promise that we would do whatever it took to accomplish that goal in the near future, preferably before graduation.

The "fun story" part was easy. During Winter Break the previous year, I went with Daphne's family to Manhattan. We went ice skating at Rockefeller Center, saw theRadio City Christmas Spectacular show, and watched "the ball" drop on New Year's Eve in Times Square. We also ate way too much and walked so much that we had blisters on our feet. It was not my first trip to Manhattan nor the first time her parents had invited me to go on vacation with them, but it was the most memorable vacation I had ever taken. The best part was getting to experience it with my best friend.

The "stressful or difficult story" part was tougher to narrow down. I was currently going through the most stressful period of my life, which was in part due to my parents' divorce. I wasn't exactly shocked the previous month when they told me and Molly that they were separating, since I had noticed for a few years prior that they hadn't seem very happy together anymore along with hearing them fighting for several days after Mom found out about Dad's indiscretions. Still, it was a big disruption to our lives.

The trouble was that I saw no problem in how I was handling the situation. Prior to them splitting up I had always been very close to my dad. Although I feared the day that he found out I was gay, since he never seemed to be very tolerant towards gay people, he seemed to be clueless. He had even given me the "safe sex" lecture when I was fifteen, stressing to me the importance of using a condom specifically to prevent pregnancy. I promised that although I planned to hold onto my virginity for the foreseeable future, I would always be careful and he never brought it up again, thankfully.

Now that I knew my dad was a cheating bastard, I didn't want to have jack shit to do with him and I told him so when the last of his boxes were loaded onto the moving van. He said that he understood and would let me come to him once I had "cooled off." I didn't see that happening any time soon.

The other source of stress I was experiencing at that time was the thing with Brian... whatever the "thing" between us happened to be. I had so many conflicting emotions towards him it wasn't even funny. He scared me, angered me, intrigued me, and turned me on to the point that I was almost constantly walking around with at least half a boner.

I had learned so much about him over the past week and most of it was pretty disturbing. He was gay, which was great for me but potentially devastating for his career at St. James Academy, a notoriously conservative private school and, as a result, forced him to live a double life. He came from a seemingly loveless home where he was raised by two alcoholics with an absolute cunt of a sister. He didn't seem to be coping with the recent death of his father; more like ignoring it all together, really.

To top it all off, Brian was obviously in denial of his copious drinking and drug usage. From the online research I had recently performed, it seemed like he was a "high-functioning alcoholic" and I feared that it was only a matter of time before it all caught up with him.

Oh, and there was also the fact that Brian was most likely a sex addict who exposed himself to who knows how many diseases on a nightly basis. Paired with his drug and alcohol problem, he was setting himself up to potentially be physically taken advantage of by an overzealous man who didn't respect the word "no," if he hadn't already.

I knew that I could have probably been handling my "Brian problem" better, but I wasn't quite sure how. Maybe I shouldn't have gone to the cemetery on the day of his father's funeral but it seemed like he needed someone there for him at his mother's house that afternoon, specifically when Claire flipped out on him. And maybe I should have refused the ride home from him on the day we confessed our attraction to each other, since things quickly turned physical in the Jeep.

And yes, maybe I shouldn't have gone to Liberty Avenue the previous night. Sure, we both seemed to enjoy our little game of pool at Woody's but I really shouldn't have gone to Babylon after Brian told me to never come back, especially after I learned he owned the joint. If I hadn't gone, I wouldn't have ended up in Brian's office with him, where we were just a few breaths away from fucking if he hadn't put a stop to it. That led to me defying him again by following him into the backroom but the subsequent events were quite enjoyable, at least.

I knew how much trouble Brian could get into if someone from the school were to catch us in a compromising situation and it got back to the higher-ups. He would definitely be fired and maybe even face criminal charges. Although I was over the age of consent and nearly eighteen, Brian still held a position of power over me and he could have been accused of taking advantage of his position as my teacher. Plus, everyone would then know that we were both gay, including my family and Brian's colleagues and family. The story would no doubt make its way to the press and both of our names would be dragged through the mud. Both of our futures would suffer.

The question I needed to ask myself was: Did I regret one second that I had spent with Brian outside of school over the past week?

The answer was simple: Hell no, I didn't!

Next question: Was I going to stay away from Brian, biding my time until after I graduated and we were able to spend a night together without fear of repercussions, which included staying away from Liberty Avenue?

Again, simple: Hell no, I wasn't! Not as long as Brian still wanted me to come around, that is.

I was too distracted with my thoughts of Brian to continue working on my assignment by that point, so I retrieved his book from under my mattress, stretched out on my bed, and started reading. I only stopped for a few minutes to go downstairs and get a plate of the chicken tetrazzini that Mom had made for dinner to bring back upstairs with me.

The story started out with the main character, Jake Hammond, living at home with his parents and younger brother as he attended his sophomore year of college majoring in architecture. Jake had known since he was a child that he was gay but never acted on his desires to be with men. In fact, Jake was known as quite the ladies man within his social circle and had slept with several young women in his time. No matter how many conquests he had made however, Jake dreamed about the day he would meet the man of his dreams and finally come out to his friends and family.

After a bad break-up with a girlfriend, Jake called what he thought was a gay escort service that unfortunately turned out to be a sting operation, resulting in Jake being arrested for solicting sex. Having no prior criminal record, Jake was given community service in exchange for no jail time or felony charge. Embarrassed and disgusted, Jake's parents promptly kicked him out of the house and cut him off financially. He then felt like he had no choice but to turn to prostitution to support himself. Jake's first sexual experience with a man occurred with a John.

I was about halfway through the book when I put it back under my mattress and began getting ready for Babylon. I put on the outfit Emmett had bought me, rubbed a little bit of gel into my hair, and sprayed on some Tommy cologne.

I looked at myself in the long mirror on the back of my bedroom door and smiled at my reflection.

"I'd fuck me," I said out loud.

I walked downstairs at five minutes to eight and took my coat from the closet next to the front door.

"Going to stay at Daphne's!" I yelled over my shoulder.

"Wait a minute!" I heard Mom yell back from the direction of the dining room. She walked into the foyer and looked at me from head to toe.

"Where are you going in that get-up?" she asked in amusement.

I shrugged. "We're going to meet some friends at the mall."

She eyed me wearily for a few moments. "Alright... have fun."

I put my coat on and opened the front door.

"Don't I get a kiss goodbye?" Mom asked as if I were a five year old leaving for his first day of kindergarten.

I held back a sigh as I leaned in and kissed her cheek.

I was standing at the corner where Ted was supposed to pick me up, nothing but one lonely streetlight above me, when I heard Daphne say "hey" behind me.

"Jesus," I said, putting my hand on my chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," Daphne said with a smile. "What are you doing out here standing in the dark? I glanced out my bedroom window and saw you."

Shit.

"Uh..." I said as I searched for something to say.

Why else would I be standing outside when it's 40 degrees out, in the dark?

"I'm waiting for a ride."

"From who?"

"Whom," I corrected.

She rolled her eyes. "Where are you going and why didn't you tell me that you had plans tonight?"

"I don't have to tell you everything, Daph," I practically growled at her.

She took a step back, an offended glare on her face. "Since when? You've always told me everything... what's going on?"

It was at that moment that Ted pulled up to the curb, Emmett riding shotgun. Music was pouring out of the sound system, a song that I recognized from the part in Pretty Woman when they go to the opera.*

"Hey, Cutie Patootie!" Emmett said as he got out of the car. "You look absolutely scrumptious."

He lifted my chin and gave me a loud kiss on my lips.

"Uh, hello," Daphne said, getting Emmett's attention.

"And who is this pretty little thing?" Emmett asked, a big smile on his face.

"This is my best friend, Daphne," I answered, pushing Emmett towards the car.

"Well hello, Miss Daphne," Emmett drawled, reaching his hand out to her. "It's a true pleasure to meet such a beautiful young lady. Emmett Honeycutt, at your service!"

Daphne slowly took Emmett's hand, mystified by the tall, flamboyant creature clad in a lime green velvet coat standing in front of her.

"Hello," she repeated, at a loss for words.

"Can we get going, please?" Ted grumbled from inside the car. "I wanted to get dinner before having to drive clear across town to pick the kid up, but noooo, somebody had to take two fucking hours to get ready..."

"That's Teddy," Emmett informed Daphne before folding down the passenger seat in order for me to get into the back of the car. "He's usually a sweetheart, but he's very hangry at the moment."

"Cover for me, Daph?" I asked as Emmett and I took our seats.

"Uh..." Daphne said, still reeling from her exchange with the lime green queen.

Ted zoomed away from the curb before Daphne was able to answer me.   

********************

Emmett and I were dancing together to "This Is Your Night**" at Babylon a couple hours later when Emmett sing-songed in my ear, "Somebody's watching you... look over your left shoulder."

I turned and looked up at the second level balcony. Brian was wearing a red button-up shirt (probably my favorite color on him) and holding a beer. His eyes were burning into me, a hard look on his devastatingly handsome face. I gave him a little wave and he turned away to talk to the man standing next to him.

"I thought he said he was cool with you coming here?" Emmett said, obviously catching Brian's death glare.

"He did. Maybe seeing you and me together is making him jealous."

Yeah, right...

Emmett chuckled. "I couldn't imagine having a teacher who was okay with me going to a gay club... especially one that was gay and owned said gay club. Hell, I certainly never had a teacher who looked half as hot as Brian."

"Yeah, lucky me," I mumbled.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom after the song was over. While I was waiting in line to take a piss, I saw what I safely guessed was a drag queen who was dressed up like Charo. She was standing beside one of the sinks, a pink plastic Caboodle case on the counter next to her.

Recalling the conversation I had with Brian the night before about the various dealers around the club, I walked over to her and cleared my throat.

"Excuse me, uh, ma'am, but are you Anita?"

She smiled at me, revealing a set of less than healthy teeth. "That would be me, querido," she crooned in an exaggerated Spanish accent.

I got closer to her and asked just above a whisper, "And, is it true that you sell drugs?"

Anita stepped away from me. "What are you, a fucking cop?" she asked, her voice dropping a few octaves and the accent completely gone.

"No!" I said, panicking slightly. "I'm only seventeen."

Smooth, Justin... smooth.

"I... I'm just..." I stammered. "I'm just trying to-"

Anita put a hand on my arm and gave me a light squeeze. "Relax, querido," she said, her Charo voice back on. "This is your first time, I'm guessing?"

I nodded.

"Well, what are you looking to try?"

I really should have thought this through...

"Uh... I don't know," I replied sadly.

She began to get a bit impatient. "How much money do you have?"

I had about $50 in cash on me but I did not want to spend too much. "Not a whole lot."

Anita sighed dramatically as she opened up her Caboodle and started rummaging around. "If you want to start off slow, I have some weak shit for five dollars a hit. I have the good shit for ten. Make you feel muy, muy bueno. The really good shit may be too rich for your blood; not for beginners."

"And what's the ‘good shit?'" I asked.

"Ecstasy. Takes about twenty minutes to kick in, then you'll dance your sexy little ass off all night."

That sounded like exactly what I needed because I was feeling como una mierda at that moment. "I'll take one of those then, please."

I pulled out my wallet and handed her a ten. She put the bill in her bra and gave me a tiny little zip lock baggie that held one round yellow pill with a smiley face stamped on it.

"Swallow it whole, don't chew. Tastes como la muerte," she advised. "Enjoy, querido."

********************

About forty-five minutes later, I was dancing with a hot guy that smelled like a dirty foot but I didn't give a flying pig's ass. I was feeling absolutely... fucking... great. I had lost my brand new shirt two or three songs earlier. The silver confetti falling from the ceiling was sticking to my sweaty skin, effectively turning me into a sparkling disco ball.

Dirty foot guy was grinding his hard cock into my lower belly as he cupped my ass with both hands but I hardly even noticed. What I did notice was that the strobe light, which had been flickering at a steady rate earlier in the evening, was now flickering along with the rhythm of the lyrics that were being sung... something about welcoming you to the female singer's filthy mind.***

"Wow..." I said as I looked around in amazement. "That is so... cool."

Become a recluse, enjoy the abuse/It's better to just get high

"Fuck yeah, it is!" I screamed before whooping like I was a cheerleader at a football game.

Dirty Foot cheered along with me before covering my wide open mouth with his, making me believe for a second that he was attempting to resuscitate me. Since I was pretty sure I was still breathing, because I was still able to smell him, I assumed that he was actually trying to kiss me. His breath didn't smell much better than the rest of him did, but I found myself eagerly kissing him back, because... kissing.

Dirty Foot and I sloppily made out for the next two hours... or until the "Filthy Mind" song was over, however long that was.

"Holy fuck, I'm really thirsty!" I yelled when I was able to come up for air. Without even saying "smell you later" to Dirty Foot, I began to make my way over to the bar.

There was a sea of people waiting to be served but I shoved and wriggled my way past all of them.

"Hey!" I yelled at one of the bartenders. "I need some water!"

No one seemed to be paying any attention to me, so I smacked my right hand on the bar several times to rouse them.

Ooh... my hand felt like putty and fireworks. I was looking at my hand as if I had never seen it before when Ted came up on my right side.

"Hey, kid," he said.

"Look!" I told him, holding my hand out to him.

He inspected my hand for a moment and shook his head. "Are you okay?"

"I need some agua!" I answered.

Ted was obviously blowing one of the bartenders because he handed me a bottle of water soon after.

I cracked it open, threw the lid somewhere over my shoulder, and began chugging.

"Whoa," Ted said, pulling the bottle away from my lips. "You're going to drown if you're not careful."

Some of the cold water had spilled down my chin and chest and it felt awesome. I ran my free hand over my chest and giggled.

"What are you on?" Ted asked.

I looked at him to answer and tilted my head to the side when his eyes seemed to triple in size right in front of me.

Trippy, man... Charo didn't say anything about this.

"Uh... the good shit," I answered, not remembering the name at the moment.

"Oh, Jesus," Ted groaned. "Just what I need - to babysit Brian's rolling twink."

"I'm not Brian's twink!" I yelled, lurching myself forward and chest-bumping him, dropping my bottle in the process. "And I don't need a babysitter, you asshole!"

I turned on my heel to walk away and heard Ted yell to me, "Be careful, okay? The last thing I need is the king holding me responsible..."

His voice faded away as I stumbled back through the crowd. I wandered around aimlessly for who knows how long, the floor seeming to tilt under my feet and me with it as I marveled at all the colors and shapes around me. I could actually see the notes of the music drifting around in the air above the dance floor and each note was a different color that matched its tone. Some of the notes were sparkly and shrill. Others were muted and quiet. It was all so pretty... and really fucking weird.

I jumped when a pair of strong arms encircled me from behind. I smiled when I looked down and saw that the arms were covered in red sleeves rolled up two well-developed forearms. The right wrist had a cowry shell bracelet on it.

"Where're you going, little boy?" Brian's sexy, slightly raspy voice purred into my ear.

I leaned back and rested my head on his chest. "No place special," I purred back. "Why are you here?"

"I own this dump, remember?" he said, his warm breath feeling like fairies dancing across my cheek and ear. "Theodore summoned me, telling me that my inquisitive student has been shopping in the men's room."

I groaned loudly. "Fuck, what is he, the captain of the buzzkill police?"

Brian turned me around and I looked up at his gorgeous face, which seemed to be glowing as if he were an ethereal being from Heaven.

"Are you an angel?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "No, young Anakin Skywalker, I'm not."

"Oh, that movie fucking sucked," I said with a snorting cackle. 

"Yes, it did," he confirmed. "All five or six times I saw the damned thing."

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. "We've never danced before."

Although a fast techno song was playing, we began swaying slowly back and forth. I closed my eyes and felt the two of us floating weightlessly.

"Mmm..." I crooned. "If an airplane suddenly crashed into the building, I would at least die happy."

Brian's laugh vibrated against my ear, sending chills throughout my body.

My body then decided that it was the perfect moment for my stomach to empty its contents all over Brian's sexy red shirt.

I later found myself lying on the black leather couch in Brian's office, the room spinning around me as I tried to keep from ralphing again.

Brian had changed into a black v-neck shirt that he conveniently had on hand. He was sitting at his computer desk at that moment grading papers.

"I am so sorry about your shirt, Brian," I repeated for what had to have been the tenth time.

"I said that it's okay," he said, not sounding very convincing. "That's why I keep an extra shirt here, although I'm usually the one doing the puking on myself, not some tweaked out twinkie."

"But I ruined your other shirt! It was such a nice fucking shirt..." I wailed.

"You've seen my wardrobe - I have tons of shirts. Now, get up."

I looked up and saw that he was suddenly standing beside me, holding his hand out to me. I reached out to him and he quickly jerked me up off of the couch as if I were lighter than a feather.

"Whoa!" I said, grabbing onto him tightly, burying my face between his pecs. "Damn, you're strong... and you smell like sandalwood and magic."

"It's Gucci Envy. Now, let's go, sonny boy. I'm putting you in a cab home."

"No! I can't go home. I told my mom that I'm staying the night at Daphne's. Our parents think we're dating."

Brian burst out laughing. "Her parents actually let you spend the night with their precocious daughter?"

"Yeah... Daph's mom even put her on the pill so I won't knock her up."

The laughing continued.

"Fuck you," I said, pushing Brian away from me before grabbing onto him again to keep upright. "Your mom thinks that you and Lindsay dated in college, so there."

"Touché," Brian conceded. "By the way, what happened to your shirt?"

I looked down and saw all of my pale flesh, which was still flecked with silver confetti. "I don't know... it's probably being used as a cum rag in the backroom by now. Would you happen to have an extra, extra shirt up here?"

"Sorry. I guess I'll just have to parade you half-naked through the joint while we gather up Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Maybe one of them will let you crash at their place for the night."

We went back down to the dance floor, which was louder and brighter than ever. I tried to keep my eyes closed as Brian dragged me by my hand through the crowd, lest I imagine Bugs Bunny giving a blow job to the Incredible Hulk on one of the go-go platforms or something.

Brian walked me along the length of the bar, stopping to ask one of the bartenders if they had seen Ted lately. The answer must have been a negative, because I heard Brian yell "fucking Schmidt", which made me burst out in giggles.

"What?" he yelled in my face.

"You said ‘fucking Schmidt,'" I squealed, gasping for breath. "That sounds like ‘fucking shit.'"

"Yes, I'm aware," he snarled. "He probably split after Emmett found a trick to go home with."

"Ooh, lucky Emmett," I said, finishing my sentence with a burp.

And then Brian said the most beautiful thing I had ever heard come out of his mouth, even more beautiful than the time he recited How Do I Love Thee?* in class:

"Fuck... I guess you're coming home with me."

Brian took me to claim my coat from the coat check counter, walked me out to the small parking area behind the building, put me in his Jeep, told me to stay put while he went back inside to get his coat and briefcase, came back out about five minutes later, and then began driving in the direction of his loft all while I had a goofy smile frozen on my face.

"You're sleeping on the couch," Brian sternly informed me.

"Aww... you're no fun," I griped.

It took no time to get to the loft, since Babylon was only a few blocks away. My legs seemed to be made of spaghetti noodles at that point so Brian had to practically carry me into the building and hold me up while we rode the elevator to the fourth floor.

Once we got inside his loft, Brian sat me on a barstool and made me drink a bottle of water.

"I should have warned you about Anita's E," he said. "I don't know where the fuck she gets it, but it's hit or miss. Sometimes it's pure but other times it's absolute garbage. The tab you took may have been laced with PCP, meth, or some other shit. Or, it may have been pure but you're just not used to it.

"One time I took something she was touting as E and I eventually became convinced that my body was not mine anymore... like I was somehow outside of myself. I sat on one of the couches at the club for a good three hours completely unable to move, although I imagined the entire time that I was shaking my ass off on the dance floor. It wasn't too terrible until I pissed my pants because I couldn't get up to go to the fucking restroom."

I covered my eyes with my hands. "I'm never doing drugs again, ever."

Brian snorted. "If I had a nickel for the number of times I've said that..."

The next thing I knew, Brian was stripping off all of my clothes.

"Wha... what are you doing?" I asked, hoping that he had changed his mind about me sleeping on the couch.

"I'm putting you in the shower. You're covered in glitter and you reek."

"Blame Dirty Foot for that last one," I mumbled.

Luckily, Brian did not ask me to explain.

I still couldn't stand up without falling over, so Brian joined me in his big walk-in shower. My dick had been hard for most of the night, so being within reach of a wet, naked Brian Kinney was doing me no favors.

Especially when he was rubbing his soapy hands all over my body.

I gasped and held my breath when he ran a hand through my pubes, over my unbelievably hard dick, and down to my balls. I then babbled something that vaguely sounded like "holy shit, that feels so good, don't stop" before grabbing the back of Brian's head and plastering my lips on his.

He returned my kiss for several seconds, his hand still cupping my sack before pulling away.

"Justin..." he began to say.

"Get out of your head and kiss me, dammit," I growled before attacking his mouth once again.

That time he complied without a breath of protest. Better yet, his hand found my dick once again and he only had to stroke it for about ten seconds before I came. If he hadn't been there to hold me in his strong arms, I was pretty sure my whole body would have turned to jelly and flowed right down the shower drain along with my jizz.

Once I was able to move again, I clumsily grabbed onto Brian's gigantic dick and began to jerk him off. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep up a steady rhythm so he wrapped his right hand around mine and helped. Our lips and tongues danced together beautifully as we brought him off.

We spent a few more minutes washing and fondling each other before getting out and drying off with his lush red bath towels. More accurately, Brian dried the both of us off while I leaned against the sink.

He then carried my boneless body to his bed.

"What happened to the couch?" I slurred as Brian pulled the covers up to my chin.

"Shut up before I change my mind," he answered before turning off all the lights and lying down beside me.

I wanted to savor the experience of Brian spooning me, but I was out within seconds.

I woke up the next morning with my head pounding. I had no clue where I was or why I felt so shitty. I also had no clue why I was naked, because I never slept naked, especially in November.

I slowly cracked open my crusty eyes and looked around, eventually realizing that I was in Brian's ridiculously comfortable California king bed. The owner of the bed was lightly snoring next to me, looking like an angel I knew that he wasn't.

The pounding in my head got louder, so loud that it somehow woke Brian up.

"Who the fuck is that?" Brian grumbled as he threw off the covers and got out of bed.

"Huh?" I said, still trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

Charo... yellow smiley-faced pill... guy that smelled like feet... hurling all over Brian's shirt... mutual jerking off in the shower...

Brian put on a silky blue robe and walked to the front door. I heard him pull open the sliding door and say, "Linds, what're you doing here?"

Linds? Lindsay, as in Miss Peterson?

Oh no.

"I told you yesterday that I'd come by this morning so we could talk about the play, remember?" Miss Peterson answered.

"Oh... yeah, that's right," Brian said. "But my place is not fit for visitors at the moment."

I heard a pair of shoes clacking on the wooden floor, clearly not retreating. "Tell your trick to get out so we can get started. I brought some homemade zucchini bread - your favorite."

"Well, I appreciate that Linds, but-"

I did not hear the rest of what Brian said due to a wave of nausea suddenly forcing me to bolt out of bed and into the bathroom, where I promptly began to pray to the porcelain gods.

A few moments later, I realized that I was no longer alone in my vomitous misery.

"Who...?" I heard Miss Peterson ask as her obnoxiously noisy shoes came closer. "Is that Justin Taylor?"

I was too busy gagging to respond.

"What is he doing here, Brian?" Miss Peterson shouted.

"Stay out of this," Brian sternly warned.

"Are you kidding me? Since when do you fuck your students?"

"We didn't fuck!" Brian said. "Right, Justin?"

I wanted to unfortunately affirm Brian's statement, but all I was capable of at that moment was slumping onto the cold tile floor and moaning.

"Then why else would he be here, naked?" Miss Peterson demanded to know.

The two of them continued to yell back and forth, their exchange sounding like gunfire in my head. They eventually took their loud mouths into the other room leaving me to suffer in peace.

Brian returned to the bathroom a few minutes later.

"She's gone," he said.

"Lovely," I replied, shivering and cold-sweating on the floor. "I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking. I always wake up this way."

He flushed the toilet before dragging me back to the bed.

"She won't say anything," Brian said as he sat down next to me. "She's not happy, but we won't have to worry about her."

"Are you sure?"

"She's a lesbian who works at a proudly homophobic school and lives with a lesbian who is knocked up with a gay man's child, whom she plans on secretly adopting after it's born. Yeah, you can bet your ass that Lindsay will keep her fucking mouth shut."

I looked at him in surprise. "You would rat her out if she ratted you out?"

"No, but she doesn't know that."

Brian force fed me some Advil, coffee, and a few pieces of Miss Peterson's zucchini bread that she had left behind. I then took a hot shower (with only my own hand to keep me company, sadly) and felt almost human.

He insisted on taking me home around noon, saying that he needed to go to the gym and grade papers for the rest of the day. Brian loaned me one of his long-sleeved black shirts which I was grateful for since it was rather chilly outside.

Neither of us said much on the way, minus some shared complaints about how several homes already had Christmas decorations out despite the fact that it was only the weekend before Thanksgiving.

Brian stopped the Jeep a block down from my mother's house and shifted into park.

"So..." I said.

"So..." Brian echoed.

"So, um.... I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow?"

He nodded. "I'll be there."

I slowly turned to open the door, but Brian stopped me by grabbing the collar of my coat and pulling me over to him. He then gave me a kiss that was so intense, I was surprised my hair didn't catch on fire.

"Later," he whispered after he released me.

All I could do was smile before getting out of the car and nearly floating down the street to my house.

I let myself in and went upstairs to my bedroom, fortunately without running into my mother or sister. I changed into some clean underwear and pants, leaving Brian's shirt on. It was a couple of sizes too big for me but I wasn't going to pass up the chance of wearing one of his undoubtedly expensive Ralph Lauren shirts.

I sat down at my desk and turned my computer on. I soon saw that Daphne had sent me an instant message at 8:22 the night before, which said:

YOU BETTER FUCKING CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!!!!!

Imagining that she was pacing the floor of her bedroom waiting for my call, I grabbed the cordless phone and dialed the number for her cell.

Sure enough, she answered on the first ring.

"You want to tell me what the fuck that was last night?" Daphne demanded.

"Well, hello to you, too," I said.

"Seriously, Justin," she snarled, "who were those guys and where did you go with them?"

I thought for a few seconds, saying the first lie that popped in my head. "I met them in the bathroom at Babylon... you remember, the night we went?"

"You met them in the bathroom at Babylon?" Daphne repeated, her voice dripping with bewilderment.

"Yeah... remember how I took so long?"

"I thought you took so long because you stumbled into the orgy room?"

Fuck... she remembered everything.

"Yes, but I eventually found the bathroom where there was a line to use the toilets and I talked to Emmett while we waited."

"About what?"

"I... I don't remember. Like, what's your name, are you having a good time, just small talk."

"Okay," Daphne said, clearly waiting for me to continue.

"I guess Emmett thought I was cute or something, because he gave me his number."

This time, Daphne waited in silence.

"And... I called him a few days later and he invited me to go to Babylon last night with him and his friend Ted."

"What time did you get home last night?"

"Like... midnight," I said, the guilt for lying to her increasing.

"It's 12:38 in the afternoon and you're just now getting on your computer and calling me?"

I sat there with my mouth open, searching for an excuse. "I didn't look at my computer after I got home... and I'm allowed to sleep in on a Sunday."

She paused for several seconds. "Justin, why didn't you just tell me what was going on before now? You never keep secrets from me."

I closed my eyes, feeling like a total piece of shit. "I know, I just-"

"I know you've never had a boyfriend before, but-"

"I don't have a boyfriend!" I said a little too forcefully. "Especially not Emmett... I mean, he's a nice guy, but he's totally not my type. You of all people should know that. I mean, you saw him."

"Okay, sorry," Daphne said. "You're right."

I didn't know why I was so fired up all of a sudden - perhaps it was a residual effect of the yellow pill or the fact that I was pissed at myself for lying to my best friend - but I subsequently proceeded to show my entire ass in my next statement.

"You know Daphne, I'm allowed to have a life that doesn't include you, so stop with this third degree bullshit. Christ, you sound like a jealous fucking girlfriend or something."

"Well... fuck you, too, asshole," Daphne said before hanging up.

"Shit," I said to myself.

I later sent a few instant messages and an email to Daphne apologizing to her for what I had said, telling her that I was a piece of shit that didn't deserve her as my best friend, but she never replied. She also did not pick up when I tried to call her back. Her mom even lied for her when I called their home number, telling me that Daphne had a headache and couldn't come to the phone.

I had my mother drive me to school the next morning, telling her that Daphne would not drive me because she was mad at me. When Mom asked me what had happened, I told her that I didn't want to get upset by talking about it.

That certainly was not the first time I had lied to my mother, but I felt guiltier than I normally did for doing so.

My day significantly improved when I saw Brian that morning during his Creative Writing class. He looked as delicious as ever in a crisp white button-down shirt, navy blue tie, and gray pants.

I hung on to every word that he spoke, staring at that beautiful mouth of his and remembering how it had felt on mine, in particular that scorching goodbye kiss from the previous day. I watched his right hand as he wrote on the chalkboard, thinking back to how amazing it had felt wrapped around my cock...

"Mr. Taylor?" Brian suddenly called out.

"Yes, Mr. Kinney?" I answered.

"Would you please tell the class what a ‘dystopia' is and give an example of one from a work of literature?"

"A dystopia is an undesirable community or society, such as Airstrip One in George Orwell's classic 1984*," I answered, recalling the reading assignment I had completed the previous evening about narrative settings.

"Why was Airstrip One such an undesirable place to live?" Brian asked.

"Its citizens lived under constant government surveillance and were not allowed to live free lives."

Brian's gorgeous hazel eyes lingered on my face for several seconds before he gave me a small smile. "Excellent, Mr. Taylor."

I nearly came in my pants, I was so happy to have pleased him.

Before class ended, Brian passed out everyone's graded writing assignments from the previous week. I had turned mine in early and had already gotten it back, but when he passed by me, he put a piece of paper face-down on my desk before moving on.

I turned the paper over and read the hand-written note, which told me to meet him in the locker room at lunch.

Don't make me wait, it explicitly instructed.

I had to bite my lips to keep from screaming for joy.

I had barely stepped into the dank, silent room room when I heard the unmistakable sound of Brian clearing his throat in the direction of the showers. I walked around but could not find him. I then remembered that there was a private changing room off to the side, which was where he was impatiently waiting for me.

"Get your sexy ass in here," he growled before pulling me inside and closing the door.

Brian shoved me against the wall and attacked my mouth with a vengeance as if he had been hungrily anticipating this moment since our last kiss. He quickly divested me of my blazer before going to work on my belt and zipper.

Before I even realized what was happening, Brian was on his knees and my dick was down his throat. I gasped as he went to town on my dick and all I could do was reach down, grab onto his hair, and try not to cum immediately like the inexperienced teenager I was.

I managed to last for nearly a minute before losing it, whimpering like an injured puppy as he licked me clean.

"That... that..." I breathlessly said.

He stood back up and smiled at me. "I know. Now, growing boys need to go to the cafeteria and have their lunch."

I smiled back at him. "You don't want me to return the favor?"

"Oh, I'd love nothing less but although we are in a school and I am your teacher, I plan to teach you the fine art of fellatio outside of this building," he informed me before giving me a quick kiss and walking out, leaving me to put myself back together.

Once I got to the cafeteria, I loaded up a tray with a beef burrito, some potato wedges with a fistful of ketchup packets, cherry cobbler, chocolate milk, and vegetable medley (since I did need something healthy) and headed toward my usual table. I immediately noticed that Daphne was absent.

"Hey," I said to September, "where's Daph?"

She pointed over to the Jock Table where Daphne had wedged a chair next to Glen Reeves from the swim team.

"She and Glen had an amazing IM session last night," September explained.

I took a bite of my burrito as I watched Daphne laugh at something hilarious Glen must have said.

The sudden smell of Gucci Envy and cigarettes made me look away from Daphne and over to my left. Sure enough, Brian was standing beside me, a predatory smirk on his face.

"You must have nearly two thousand calories on your tray there, Mr. Taylor," he remarked. "I wish I had your metabolism."

I wiped my mouth with the whisper-thin tissue paper the school offered as napkins. "Well, growing boys need to eat. What did you have for lunch today, Mr. Kinney?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I had some delicious, high-protein chicken."

I instantly broke out in a sweat.

"Mmm," was all I could say before he turned to leave.

September watched Brian walk away before looking at me curiously. "Uh, that was weird."

I had already seen Daphne during Brian's creative writing class that morning where she had blatantly ignored me. I decided to attempt a conversation with her before English Literature class began.

"Good afternoon, Daphne," I said as I sat down at the desk beside her.

She took her textbook out of her backpack and stared forward at the front of the room, her lips slightly puckered in annoyance.

"I saw you sitting with Glen Reeves during lunch. What's going on with him?"

The girl sat there like a living statue.

I sighed. "Well, when you do finally decide to talk to me, I'm all ears."

Brian soon entered the room, took roll call, and immediately dove into our study ofHamlet. I was of course enthralled with Brian's lecture of the classic play, listening intently as he read Mr. Shakespeare's fancy words while pausing every so often to explain what a character meant in simpler language.

Chris Hobbs and one of his cronies in the back of the room, on the other hand, were not at all interested with the subject matter given that they were whispering and snickering throughout the class.

"Mr. Hobbs," Brian summoned.

"What?" Hobbs gruffly answered, clearly annoyed that his monkey business was being interrupted.

"Since you are obviously oh-so invested in our discussion, I'm sure you'll have no problem explaining to the class what exactly Prince Hamlet meant during his famous ‘what a piece of work is man' speech*."

I turned to look at Hobbs, who looked like the proverbial deer caught in headlights.

"Uh," Hobbs said as he flipped through the pages of his book. "He meant that, uh, man... you know, men are real pieces of work. Like, they're basically... yeah."

The classroom burst into a fit of laughter. Even Daphne, who had maintained a rather dour expression throughout the lesson, couldn't help but snicker at Hobbs's display of utter stupidity.

I looked back at Brian, who was biting his lips as he always did as he tried not to break. "Fascinating, Mr. Hobbs. Men are real pieces of work. Don't you agree, Mr. Taylor?"

I immediately composed myself, thrilled that Brian had once again acknowledged me during class. "Yes, Mr. Kinney, they sure are... some more than others."

Brian smiled for a moment at my audacity before saying, "But please, Mr. Taylor, tell us what Hamlet was referring to in his conversation with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Act II."

I then recalled Brian referring to Emmett and Ted as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern at Babylon and I couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"Hamlet meant that although he recognized that humanity was a beautiful thing, he could find no joy in the company of others following the death of his father."

"Correct," Brian said, surely proud and/or turned on by my brilliance.

"I can certainly empathize with him," I continued. "I mean, my father is still alive, but my parents are currently getting divorced. He moved out a few weeks ago and I haven't spoken to him since."

Brian nodded slightly, as he was already familiar with my family situation. "That's too bad."

"But... at least he's still alive. I could reconcile with him one day, if I chose. Unfortunately, not everyone gets that chance."

Brian then squinted at me, clearly realizing that I was referring to his relationship with his not-so-dearly departed father.

I was potentially putting myself at risk of really pissing him off, but I decided to roll with it. "Hamlet was depressed after losing his father and everyone in town knew. Not everyone reacts the same way to the death of a parent, however; some choose to ball up the pain inside and self-medicate. They may even end up hurting themselves in one way or another, if they're not careful." 

Brian sat on the edge of his desk, attempting to maintain a detached facade. "Yes, that's true."

"In Act II, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were sent to check on Hamlet and he was kind of an asshole to them."

There were a few giggles throughout the room.

"Pardon my French," I said.

Brian waved his hand. "Go on."

"Hamlet was being a bit condescending to them because he didn't know of their true intentions for coming to see him. Maybe all Hamlet really needed was someone to talk to... someone he could really talk to about his pain from losing his father instead of putting up a tough exterior."

Brian stared at me for several seconds. "Maybe," he finally said.

There were only a few minutes left in the class period so Brian wrapped up the discussion and assigned us a set of questions on Act II from our textbook to be completed that evening. The bell rang soon after and I got up to leave.

I stopped when I heard Brian clear his throat, pretending to busy myself with looking for something in my backpack. I could see him walking towards me in my peripheral vision as the room emptied.

"What the hell was that?" Brian quietly asked.

I looked up at him as innocently as I could manage, blinking slowly. "What was what, Mr. Kinney?"

He took a breath to elaborate but stopped when he realized that students from his next class were beginning to come into the room.

"I'll see you in the auditorium later for rehearsal?"

I nodded before leaving for my next class.

As I was walking to the auditorium at the end of the day, I unfortunately ran into Hobbs and three of his jock buddies just outside the door.

"Well, look who it is: Mr. Shakespeare," Hobbs said in a condescending tone.

I attempted to pass him but he blocked me by stepping directly in my path.

"I bet you feel really smart, don't you, because you can understand fucking Shakespeare's gibberish?"

"All I did was read the cliff notes," I said, trying to deescalate the situation so he would leave me the fuck alone. "I can let you borrow mine if you want."

He leaned in and yelled right in my face, "I mean, what kind of a guy likes fucking Shakespeare, anyway?"

"Yeah," his followers chimed in behind him.

"A fucking faggot, that's what," Hobbs answered himself.

I wanted to say something but decided to keep my cool as he ran his mouth.

Hobbs laughed, obviously very proud of his ingenuity. "Yeah, you and Kinney are a couple of Shakespeare-loving faggots."

At hearing Brian's name I instantly lost it, shoving Hobbs as hard as I could.

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed.

Hobbs fell back into his friends who looked absolutely shocked to see someone actually stand up to their leader.

"You son of a bitch!" Hobbs yelled as he launched himself at me, punching me in my left eye before tackling me to the floor.

Hobbs's cronies cheered him on as Hobbs wrapped his hands around my throat and squeezed.

"I'm gonna kill you, motherfucker," he growled in my face.

Luckily, someone pulled Hobbs off of me before I lost consciousness.

That someone was Brian, who was holding Hobbs in a full nelson. I sat up and noticed that the members of the Christmas play production, including Miss Peterson, had filtered out into the hallway in response to the commotion.

"What is going on here?" Miss Peterson asked.

"That little son of a bitch shoved me!" Hobbs yelled as he struggled to get himself out of Brian's strong grasp.

"You fucking deserved worse, you piece of shit!" I screamed back.

"Enough!" Miss Peterson yelled. "Brian, let him go!"

Brian complied although I'm sure he would have loved snapping that bastard's head off.

"Everyone involved, go to Dr. Perkins's office, now!" Miss Peterson ordered.

Hobbs, his friends, Brian, and I all silently walked to the office. I was directed to sit in a small conference room while the others went into the dean's office to tell their side of the story. Brian stayed in the conference room with me.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked.

"He called me a Shakespeare-loving faggot, so I shoved him."

Brian snorted. "So? He's not wrong."

I huffed out a breath, deciding not to reveal that Hobbs had also included Brian in his declaration.

"That doesn't make it okay for him to use that word, especially when he let me suck his cock that one time. He seems to forget that I have dirt on him."

Brian sighed and sat down at the table next to me. "That's exactly why he's such a shit to you. He's a dumb, immature asshole just taking his insecurities out on the easiest target."

"Am I just supposed to take it?" I angrily asked.

"You're supposed to be the bigger man and show that you're not going to stoop to his level," he said as he lightly rubbed a finger under my left eye, which I could feel starting to swell. "You're going to have one hell of a shiner there. The next time you decide to fight someone make sure you block them from hitting that pretty face, okay?"

I smiled. "I'll try."

My mother soon joined us in the conference room, demanding to know what had happened. I told her that Hobbs had been giving me shit for months and I just couldn't take it anymore. My mother and I were eventually called into Dr. Perkins's office where I explained my part of the fight in few words, admitting that I was the one who put my hands on him first.

I was given three days of suspension from school which was the standard punishment for fighting. Since it was a Monday and we were off on Thursday and Friday for Thanksgiving Break, that meant I was not allowed back until the following Tuesday. Dr. Perkins informed me that Hobbs had also received three days.

Overall, standing up to Hobbs was really not worth it since I was a nerd who actually liked going to school.

Molly was spending the evening with our father so Mom and I were alone when we got back to the house. I grabbed an ice pack for my eye and she started making some turkey sandwiches for us.

"Alright," she snapped as she sat my plate down on the kitchen island in front of me. "Are you going to tell me what actually happened today?"

"I already told you - Hobbs has been giving me shit all year and today he got in my face, so I shoved him."

"Giving you shit about what?" Mom asked, surprising me since she rarely ever cursed.

I shrugged, trying to come up with something. "He just doesn't like me... I guess he's jealous that I'm a better student than he is. We have a few classes together and the teachers call on me more than they do him. Today during English Lit, I was able to answer a question that he didn't know and it pissed him off."

I wasn't lying, at least.

"Well, you shouldn't have put your hands on him," Mom said. "I'm not saying that it was okay for him to punch and choke you, but you should have gone to a teacher or someone in the office and told them about his verbal abuse before it ever turned physical."

"I know," I said before taking a bite of my sandwich.

Mom looked down at her plate but did not move to eat. "Justin... I have to ask you something."

"What?"

She turned and walked to the laundry room, returning with a long-sleeved black shirt on a hanger.

Brian's black Ralph Lauren shirt.

Oh no.

"Whose shirt is this?" she asked.

I chewed for a few seconds and swallowed. "Uh... Dad's?"

She shook her head. "It's a size too big for him, and when he moved out I made sure that he took every stitch of his clothing with him. He also never owned anything Ralph Lauren and I found this in your room this morning while gathering dirty clothes to wash. Now, do you want to tell me whose shirt it really is?"

I took a deep breath, deciding it was finally time to come clean.

"Mom... the shirt belongs to the guy I've been dating."

My mother looked a bit confused, understandably. "The guy you've been dating?"

"Well, we're not technically dating, but we've been seeing each other for a little while... romantically, for the lack of a better term."

"So you're...?" she nearly whispered, seemingly unable to say the inevitable word.

"I'm gay," I finally said, the weight finally off of my shoulders.

She closed her eyes for a moment before giving me a small smile. "I know."

I tilted my head. "You know?"

She nodded. "I suppose a part of me has always known, at least since you were four or five."

"How?" I asked incredulously. "I've only known since I was fourteen."

"Well... mostly with your interests and temperament. You were never really into masculine hobbies. You hated watching violent movies and sports, no matter how much your father tried to get you into them. You liked playing dress up with my clothes and always wanted to play with my doll collection. Plus, there's the fact that you've always loved Madonna and Elton John."

"Shit, you could have told me, saving me years of confusion!" I said, waving my hands around.

Mom laughed. "What was I supposed to say when you were that young? ‘Honey, I think you're gay.' Then you would have asked, ‘Mommy, what does gay mean?' opening up a big can of worms."

I laughed along with her.

Wow... this was going better than I ever thought it would.

"When you and Daphne began spending so much time together in junior high, I figured that you were just a straight guy with some feminine qualities," Mom said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"Oh, Daphne also claims to have ‘always' known I was gay. She was actually thrilled when I came out to her over the summer, saying it was so cool to have a gay best friend."

 "Well, now that I know the truth, I have to say that I'm relieved. It's nice that I don't have to worry about you getting her pregnant anymore."

"Deidra put her on the pill two years ago," I said, referring to Daphne's mother.

"She told me. That's the only reason why I ever let you stay the night with her, though accidents do happen. I know what goes on when straight teenage boys and girls are left alone. Now I know you were just having innocent slumber parties."

"We usually spend the night talking about the cute boys at school, flipping through entertainment magazines, and watching chick flicks."

Mom looked at the black shirt still clasped in her hand. "So, I'm guessing that your boyfriend goes to your school?"

Well...

I knew that I had to be careful in keeping Brian's true identity safe, but I also wanted to stay on the honesty train we were delightfully riding on.

"No, he doesn't."

"Then how did you meet him?"

I took the shirt from her, removed it from the hanger, and began to fold it. "He owns a business on Liberty Avenue."

"Oh," Mom said in surprise. "He's older than you, then?"

I nodded.

"I didn't know that you hung around that part of town."

"I haven't for very long," I said, staring down at the shirt in my hands. "It's nice to be around other people like me. I'm pretty sure I'm the only gay kid at my school."

Mom put her hand on my shoulder, prompting me to look into her eyes. "Please just tell me you're being safe, Honey."

"Honestly, I feel safer on Liberty Avenue than I do at school these days," I said, gesturing to my busted face.

"No, I meant that I hope you're being safe with... with boys."

I tried not to cringe, since the topic of sex was something I had never felt comfortable talking to my mother about. "I actually haven't gone all the way yet, but they've lectured us more than once at school about safe sex, so don't worry."

Mom smiled before finally sitting at one of the bar stools and picking up her sandwich. "Are you going to tell me about him?"

"Uh... what do you want to know?"

"Judging by the size of that shirt, I'm guessing that he's a big guy."

I couldn't help but smile as I pictured Brian in my head. "He's about six foot two and has a great body. Not too muscular, but perfectly toned all over."

"Ooh," Mom said, giggling like a school girl. "What else? Is he good looking?"

"He's absolutely gorgeous. He has brown hair, hazel eyes, and a strong, chiseled jaw."

"I'm guessing since he has his own business and an expensive taste in clothes, he has money?" she asked, ever the upper-class WASP.

"Yes, he's very comfortable and fashionable."

We ate our sandwiches for a bit, the silence welcome after the bomb I had just dropped.

"You know what? I just realized that I didn't even ask you his name," she suddenly said, chuckling at her silliness.

Ladies and gentleman, please step off of the Honesty Train at this time.

"Emmett," I answered.

Minus the fact that he wasn't as gorgeous as Brian, had blue eyes, and wasn't a rich business owner, the description was otherwise accurate.

"Emmett," she repeated. "Well, I hope I get to meet him some day."

"I've only known him for a couple of weeks," I quickly said. "I don't know if it'll actually go anywhere. It's definitely nowhere near the ‘come meet my mom' stage."

"You're obviously special to him, since he's letting you borrow his designer shirts," she pointed out.

"Maybe," I said, hoping against all hope that I could have anything resembling a real future with Brian and that he legitimately cared about me.

I later went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, frowning when I saw that, just as Brian had predicted, I was developing one hell of a shiner as a result of Hobbs's punch to my left eye.

That fucking asshole...

I went to my room and fired up my computer. I soon saw that Daphne, apparently one to never ignore juicy gossip, had sent me an instant message saying:

OMG, I heard you got into a fight with Chris Hobbs after school??!!!!1????!!!!!

I typed out my reply:

You heard correctly.

Less than a minute later, my mother came to my room with the cordless phone, informing me that Daphne was on the line.

"So, I guess you're talking to me again?" I said in lieu of a greeting, lying down on my bed.

"I'm still mad at you, but I'm putting that aside for the moment," she informed me. "What the fuck happened?"

I gave her the full account of the fight, omitting Hobbs's statement of how Brian was also a faggot.

"He actually put his hands on your throat?" Daphne asked, her voice full of disgust for that piece of shit.

"He really might have choked me to death if Mr. Kinney hadn't gotten there in time to stop him."

"Jesus... Mr. Kinney is like, your hero now, huh?"

"Yeah," I said with a giggle. "As if I didn't already have enough to worship him for."

She had no idea just how much there was...

"Are you okay now?" Daphne asked.

"I have a black eye, but otherwise I'm physically fine. I'm suspended until Tuesday."

"That sucks. If you want, I can bring your homework to you after school each day."

"That would be great, thank you. Luckily, teachers normally don't assign much homework around Thanksgiving."

"True," she said. "That is something to be thankful for."

"Also, Mom hasn't mentioned anything about me being grounded for getting in a fight, so that's also great."

I thought for a moment about telling Daphne of my coming out to my mother, but decided not to in fear of having to lie about the discovery of The Shirt.

Instead, I asked her, "Did you read the email I sent you yesterday, apologizing for being so mean to you?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I did."

"I really am sorry, Daph. I see how you may possibly be feeling left out, since I've been sort of excluding you from my life a bit."

"It's not like I don't understand... I mean, I get it. You're a young gay man, and you want to go out and be around other gay men without having to drag your fag hag along with you. I just wish you hadn't been such a shit to me."

"You didn't deserve it. You're my best friend and I love you."

She groaned. "I love you too, asshole."

We laughed.

"So... Glen Reeves?" I asked.

"Well, you know that I've always thought he was cute, and I sit next to him in calculus. When I was pissed at you yesterday, I looked up his email address in the school directory. At first I pretended like I needed homework help. We ended up chatting on Yahoo for like, two hours."

"Aww, how romantic," I said.

"Shut up," she grumbled.

We talked for a few more minutes about Glen before hanging up.

I got back on my computer to check my email and lit up when I saw that I had one from bkinney71@hotmail.com.

The subject line read "Fight Aftermath."

I opened the email, which stated:

Justin,

After you and your mom left the school, Dr. Perkins called me into his office. Hobbs and his friends told him how I pulled him off of you, which goes against the school code of how teachers are supposed to react when students get into fights. We are actually not allowed to physically break them up, unless a student is potentially at risk for severe injury. I told him how the asshole was CHOKING YOU, and that was why I pulled him off. Perkins said that he did not have the sole authority to decide whether my actions were warranted or not.

I am suspended with pay until the board of the corporation that runs the school reviews my case, whenever the fuck that will be. Hobbs also told Perkins that he is going to sue me for assault... we shall see if he follows through.

BK

I tried not to puke up my dinner as I read Brian's email a second time.

I replied:

Holy fucking shit. I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?

JT

I waited for the rest of the evening for Brian to answer, but he never did.

I woke up at my usual time of 6:30 AM on the first morning of my school suspension, immediately remembering that I did not have to go to school that day. While some kids would be happy having a week off from school, it only took a couple of hours for cabin fever to begin to creep up on me.

My mother had a meeting that morning with a friend of hers who was a realtor. At first I thought that she was going to tell me that she would have to put our house on the market, but she instead announced that she was interested in becoming a realtor herself. After her meeting, Mom would be volunteering at a local homeless shelter with getting them ready for Thanksgiving, which meant that I would have the house to myself until five when Mom brought Molly home from her dance class.

I had checked my email after getting up to see if Brian had ever replied to me, but I was left disappointed. I couldn't help but worry about him and feel guilty for the predicament he had found himself in. If I hadn't shoved Hobbs, then Brian wouldn't have had a reason to intervene in our fight. I could only imagine what he may have done after sending me his email. He could have been passed out in an alley somewhere after an all-night bender, for all I knew.

Brian's name was not listed in the phone book, so I had no way of calling to see if he was alright. I sat around for another couple of hours, refreshing my email page every few minutes while trying to occupy myself with homework. I gave up waiting around 10:30, getting dressed and walking down to the bus stop at the end of the block.

I rode the bus to Fuller Street, which took over an hour after having to transfer busses twice. I then had to walk four blocks over to the corner of Fuller and Tremont, where Brian's building was located.

The front door to the building was locked, so I pushed the buzzer for Brian's loft. There was no answer after several seconds, so I pushed it again... and then again... and again.

I finally gave up before looking up and down the street, trying to find Brian's Jeep parked at the curb. I did not see it and I did not know if there may have been a parking garage somewhere for tenants to park.

"Fuck me," I mumbled to myself.

"I'd love to, sweet thing" a passing old queen said, waggling his eyebrows at me before going on his merry way.

Not knowing where else to go, I walked in the direction of Liberty Avenue and eventually ended up at the diner. I walked in and looked around for Brian but did not see him.

It only took a few seconds before Debbie walked over to me. "Sunshine!" she squealed, stopping short when she noticed my black eye. "What the fuck happened to your face?"

"Oh... nothing," I claimed as I looked down at my feet.

"Nothing, my ass!" Debbie yelled as she grabbed my chin and jerked my head up to get a good look at me. "Who did this to you?"

"A jerk from school... it was stupid."

Debbie let go and gave me a stern glare. "Well, I hope you got a lick or two in while you were at it."

I held up my unscathed right hand. "This is for writing, not fighting."

She snorted and shook her head. "I guess that's why you're here and not at school in the middle of the day, huh? Suspended?"

"Yeah... um, have you seen Brian lately? Like, in the last day or so?"

"Hmm..." She paused for a moment to think, scratching her head with her pencil eraser. "He was in here Sunday afternoon. Why?"

As far as Debbie knew, Brian was just my English teacher, having no idea what had been going on between the two of us over the past few weeks.

"Oh, uh..."

"You and him aren't engaging in any ‘afterschool activities', are you?" she asked, as if the truth was written on my forehead. "Because he could get fired if he got caught fucking one of his students, you know."

I looked around frantically, making sure that no one was listening. Luckily, it seemed that the people sitting nearby were busy with their own conversations.

"We're... we're just-" I sputtered.

"Well, whatever the two of you are up to, be careful, alright? I don't want to see the two of you on the evening news like that Mary Kay Letourneau and her little baby daddy."

I gave her a small smile. "Neither do I. Uh... would you happen to have Brian's number? I really need to talk to him about something, but he's not answering the email I sent him."

Debbie sighed before pulling out her order pad. "Don't tell him I was the one who gave this to you, okay?" she said as she scribbled out a seven-digit number. "The last time I gave one of his fans his number, he gave me all kinds of hell and changed it."

"I promise. Thanks," I said as I took the paper from her.

I went outside to hunt for a payphone and ran into Emmett on the sidewalk.

We didn't even get the chance to say hello before he was grabbing my chin and demanding to know what had happened to my eye, which I quickly explained away like I had with Debbie.

"Does this have anything to do with how Brian was acting last night?" Emmett asked.

I pepped up at the mention of the man I was searching for. "How was he acting?"

"Oh, honey," Emmett began, putting his arm around my shoulders. "I got to Babylon around eleven and normally Brian's not there that late on a school night. But there he was, drunk as a fucking skunk as if he was in Cancun on Spring Break."

"He was?" I asked sadly.

"I caught up to him at one point and tried to ask him why he was there that late, but all he said was, ‘Fuck off, Honeycutt,' before disappearing into the backroom."

I realized that Emmett was leading me back to the diner.

"Oh, are you on your lunch break or something?" I asked him.

"No, I go into work at one on Tuesdays and I always stop by the diner beforehand. Tuesday's lunch special is codfish balls. Mmm!"

I chuckled. "Is there a payphone nearby I can use?"

"You can use my cell, sweetie," he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Thanks... you can go ahead inside and I'll bring this back to you after I'm done," I said, wanting some privacy.

Emmett gave me a peck on my forehead before going into the diner. I dialed the number Debbie had given me and sat down on a rainbow-painted bench.

The line rang four times before going to voicemail.

Hey, this is Brian Kinney. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

I ended the call before leaving a message as his sexy voice had suggested, not knowing what the hell to even say to him. I sat there for several seconds with Emmett's phone in my hand, shivering slightly from the chilly fall breeze.

Before I could get up to take the phone back to Emmett, it suddenly started vibrating while Paula Abdul's "Cold Hearted Snake" played out of the tiny speaker. The display indicated that Brian was the caller.

"Shit," I hissed before answering. "Uh... hello?"

"What the fuck is wrong with your voice, Honeycutt?" Brian snarled.

"This isn't Honeycutt, this is Justin... you know, Taylor?"

He was silent for a few seconds before asking, "Why are you on Emmett's phone?"

"He let me borrow it," I said, almost sounding as if I were asking him instead of telling him. "I saw him outside of the Liberty Diner."

Brian yawned loudly before asking, "And why the fuck are you at the diner?"

"I... I was looking for you. I came here after stopping by your building."

"Oh, so you were the annoying motherfucker who kept pushing the buzzer earlier," he said.

"Yeah," I said with a chuckle. "That was me."

I could clearly hear Brian taking a piss in the background. "Well, what do you want?"

"You didn't answer my email yesterday and I wanted to see if you were okay. I mean, that was some pretty alarming news you shared with me."

"Nobody was more alarmed than I was," he said before flushing the toilet.

"Can I come over?" I asked.

I was back at Brian's building about ten minutes later, happy that he had let me in that time after I had pushed the buzzer again. It was so cold out I thought my nipples would break off at any moment.

Brian answered his door wearing nothing but a pair of black sweat pants. He immediately grabbed my chin to inspect my face, just as Debbie and Emmett had.

"Holy shit!" he growled, looking at my hideous purple bruise and swollen lower eyelid. "I should have broken that fucking asshole's neck when I had the chance."

"You would be in jail now instead of just suspended from work," I reminded him, loving placing my hand on his arm.

"Jesus, your hand is like an ice cube," he said, jerking away from me. "Get in here and warm up."

I walked inside as he shut the door behind me.

"It's barely forty degrees outside. It's supposed to snow tonight," I said.

Brian groaned. "I hate this time of year. Someday, I'm going to move to Miami so I won't have to freeze to death up here anymore."

"That sounds nice," I said as I walked over to his couch.

"Plus, I wouldn't have to fly down there every Thanksgiving, because I'd already be there," he said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Why do you fly to Miami for Thanksgiving? Do you have family down there?"

"No, you met my fucking family, remember? I go to Miami to get away from them and go to the White Party*. The last thing I'd want to do is eat turkey with those assholes."

"What's the White Party?" I asked. I remembered Brian saying that he had met (and fucked) Michael's boyfriend there the previous year, but I did not know what it was.

Brian joined me on the couch and sat his coffee cup on the table. "It's held in Miami every year on the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. There are several other smaller parties around town over the weekend, too. Thousands of queers, all dressed in white, gather together to donate money to HIV/AIDS research... and do tons of drugs, drink, and fuck."

I raised my eyebrows. "Huh... and you go every year?"

"This would have been my fifth year going. I normally fly out on Wednesday evening and get home late on Sunday, and then I drag my ass back to work the following morning and pretend like I haven't been partying for the past four days."

"You said this would have been your fifth year... I'm guessing you're not going this year?"

"After the little incident yesterday, I figured I'd better not go," he said, his voice dripping with irritation. "Hopefully I can get a meeting with the school board on Monday, and I don't want to be all fucked out and hung over. As much as I'd love to blow off steam in gay paradise this weekend, I've decided to be responsible and stick around here. Besides, this is the second Thanksgiving weekend that I've owned Babylon, and the guy that manages it for me said we had a pretty great turnout last year. I'm sure I'll be able to find plenty to occupy myself. There's going to be a Big Dick Contest on Friday night and I may just volunteer to judge."

I couldn't help but feel jealous over the thought of Brian being with other men and measuring their dicks. I was under no illusions that since we had begun fooling around he wasn't still fooling around with others, but it still made my skin crawl just thinking about it.

"Brian... I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

"For what happened yesterday. If I hadn't started that fight with Hobbs, none of this would be happening. We would both be at school right now as usual and you would still be going to Miami. Plus, I wouldn't look like Rocky after going a round with Creed right now."

My mother was correct when she had reminded me the day before of my aversion for violent movies, but I did sort of enjoy the Rocky franchise, mostly because Stallone was hot as hell in his prime.

"Are you ever going to tell me what actually caused the fight?" Brian asked. "You were very vague yesterday. I know it had to be something major for you to physically confront him over, because he's been giving you shit for months and you've never retaliated until now."

I wrung my hands. "Well, you know how I said he called me a faggot? Well, he calledyou a faggot, too."

Brian slammed his cup on the table, causing some of the coffee to splash out. "That's it? I may lose my fucking job and get sued because some closet case called me a faggot? I've been called worse by much better than Chris fucking Hobbs, I'll have you know."

My eyes welled up. "I just couldn't let him get away with saying that about you. He doesn't even know you."

"So the fuck what?" Brian yelled. "Let that little cunt run his mouth. What the fuck difference does it make? Again, he wasn't wrong - we're both a couple of cock sucking faggots. He knows first-hand that you are."

"Please, don't remind me," I said, tears streaming down my face by that point. "If I hadn't given him head at that party-"

"Fuck regrets. There's no use regretting your bad decisions. All you can do is either forget them or try your best to remedy them. And fuck apologizing; I didn't have to help you yesterday."

"Are you saying that you would have let him choke me out while his fucking friends and everyone from the drama club just stood there watching?"

"Of course not," he said. "I would never let anyone hurt you, so long as I was there to stop them."

"Then you did have to help me. Again, if I hadn't shoved Hobbs, he wouldn't have-"

I didn't get to finish that sentence, because Brian shut me up with a kiss.

At some point while Brian and I were kissing, I had lost my hat and coat. I didn't mind one bit because I was more than warmed up.

"You talk way too much sometimes," Brian murmured against my lips.

"I'm sorry... I just-"

"Shut up, Justin."

We continued to make out for several long, sumptuous minutes until the rude sound of Brian's cell phone playing Van Halen's "Eruption" ruined the beautiful moment.

It was Brian's lawyer calling for a meeting to discuss his suspension, due to a last minute cancelation freeing up his calendar that afternoon.

Brian drove me home, giving me a very quick kiss before practically shoving me out of the Jeep. He promised to email me later to let me know how the meeting went.

I puttered around the house for the rest of the day, periodically checking my email. Daphne brought me my assignments before dinner and nearly screamed when she saw my black eye. She used some very colorful and unladylike language during a rant against Hobbs, which earned her a warm hug and kiss from me. I was very happy to have her back on my side.

My mother and I had a talk about her financial future after she had come home that evening. It was going to take a few months for her to become a licensed realtor, since she had to take some classes and pass an exam beforehand. In the meantime, things were going to be tight within our household. My father was apparently being a total dick to her with their divorce proceedings, proposing that they sell the house, split the profits evenly, and have her move into a cheaper home with me and Molly. He was also trying to get out of paying her alimony and for her legal fees, despite the fact that he had all the money and was the one who had fucked around and destroyed their marriage.  

Brian finally sent me a very short email at nearly nine o'clock that night saying that his lawyer was able to set up a meeting with the school board on Tuesday at 10 AM. I sent him a reply asking if his lawyer had any idea what his chances were in having his suspension overturned, but he did not get back to me. I contemplated calling but did not want to annoy him.

Following a rather sleepless night, I got up the next morning and asked my mother to drop me off at the diner after taking Molly to school. Although she was adamant that I not work while I was still in high school, I insisted on trying to find a part-time job to help her make ends meet. I had remembered seeing a "part-time help wanted" sign in the window when I was there the previous morning.

I walked into the diner around 8 AM. It was very busy with every seat filled. I managed to catch Debbie, who was nearly frantic in trying to keep the hungry homos happy. I soon found myself wearing an apron and bussing tables, Debbie having immediately hired me after I had inquired about the job. I had been unaware that she was actually the manager of the place. She was so happy that I was free to start immediately that she didn't even interview me.

I was sweeping the floor after the morning breakfast rush had died down when Brian walked in. Although he normally looked like a million bucks, he was looking rather rough that morning. His hair was a mess and his eyes were heavy. He sat down at a booth and began to look at a menu.

I walked over to him and asked, "Are you okay?"

He jumped as he looked up at me, as I was clearly the last person he expected to see at that moment. "Jesus, what the fuck are you doing here, and in an apron?"

Debbie suddenly appeared at my side and put an arm across my shoulders. "He's saving my ass is what he's doing here. Say hello to the Liberty Diner's newest employee."

"Hello," Brian grumbled.

"Why the fuck aren't you at work?" Debbie asked him.

"I figured Mikey would have told you by now, or at least this talkative little shit," Brian said, pointing at me.

Debbie gasped. "Did you get fired? What the fuck happened? Did they find out about the two of you?"

"I'm on paid suspension, I broke up the fight that produced his black eye, which is against school policy, and no," Brian answered, counting each of his answers on his fingers. "Hopefully, I'll be reinstated next week."

She looked between the two of us, more questions on her tongue. Fortunately, the cook rang the order bell.

"I'd better hear the whole story later," Debbie said before turning to pick up some plates from the window.

"Hey!" Brian yelled at her. "Are you ever going to take my order? The food's terrible, but this is a fucking restaurant!"

I brought the cranky man a cup of coffee and sat across from him. "What happened to you last night? You look like shit."

"I slept in my office at the club," Brian said as he poured way too much sugar into his coffee.

"Why?"

"Because I was too fucked up to drive home."

I sighed. "I really wish you would take better care of yourself, what with your drinking and all the drugs you take. I worry about you."

"Thanks Mom, but I'm fine," he snarled.

Debbie returned a few seconds later, order pad in hand. "Alright, alright. What would you like, Mr. Wonderful? Let me guess: two eggs up, dry wheat toast, and half a grapefruit?"

Brian tapped his nose and pointed at her.

"Back to work, Sunshine," she said to me before walking away to put in his order.

Brian ate his breakfast and left without saying goodbye.

Debbie and I sat at a table in the small break room off of the kitchen around 2 PM.

"You did a great job today, kiddo," she said.

I shrugged. "All I did was clean tables and refill coffee cups."

"Well, it's an important job. I can't serve people when the tables are piled up with dirty dishes. Maybe soon you can start serving, which is where the tips roll in. I know you have school to worry about, but you can work up to twenty hours a week whenever you're available."

"Thank you so much," I said. "I can't go back to school until next Tuesday, so my schedule is basically free until then."

"I won't expect you to be here tomorrow. I'm sure your family has Thanksgiving plans. I'm taking the day off, myself."

"Actually no, I really don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow. My parents are getting divorced right now, so it's kind of awkward at our house."

"Oh, Sunshine," Debbie said, placing a hand on my arm. "That's terrible."

"My little sister is spending the day with our father and Mom will be volunteering at a homeless shelter. I'll probably just sit at the house and watch movies all day."

"No you won't, because you'll be coming to my house for Thanksgiving," she announced.

"I will?"

"You sure will. My brother and I always have a great big feast, so there will be plenty to fill you up."

Debbie gave me her address and instructed me to be there at one o'clock sharp, bringing nothing but my appetite.

Just like that, I found myself figuratively adopted by Debbie Novotny.

I was just about to call my mother to come and pick me up when I was informed by Kiki the transgendered waitress that I had a phone call.

"Hello?" I said into the phone, assuming that it was my mother struck by telepathy.

"What time do you get off?" Brian asked me.

"About five minutes ago."

"I'm coming to pick you up."

He hung up before I was able to respond.

I called my mother to let her know that I had been hired part-time at the diner and would be home later that evening, saying that I had dinner plans. She was happy that I had found a job so quickly and told me to have fun on my "date with Emmett." I did not correct her.

Brian pulled up in front of the building a few minutes later, AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" blaring out of the sound system.

"Is it cool if I take a shower at your place?" I yelled over the music. "I smell like a fried egg."

"Where we're going, your stench will fit in," he said.

"And where is that?"

"To pay my respects to Jack Kinney. You not-so-subtly reminded me in class the other day that I haven't exactly been taking his death all that great, as if I don't haveenough on my plate right now with this Hobbs debacle. I ought to give the old fuck a proper send off and be done with it."

Brian drove us to a bowling alley a few blocks away from his mother's house. He stripped off his leather jacket before we went inside revealing a bowling shirt that said "Eastway Kings" on the back, which I recalled was the name of Jack's bowling team. Jack's name was stitched on the chest. He also grabbed Jack's bowling bag from the back of the Jeep.

"I'm really not a good bowler," I confessed as we walked in the door. "I haven't been since I was a kid."

"You're still a kid," Brian reminded me.

I chuckled. "Since I was a much younger kid."

He paid for our rental shoes and one game for each of us. It was fairly packed, and the lane they put us on was right next to where several middle-aged guys were playing.

While I picked out a ball, Brian put our names on the scoring machine, having me go first.

I waited to throw my ball while one of the old guys threw his. He got a strike and gave me a sneering grin.

"Let's see what you're made of, Sunshine," Brian said, giving me a firm swat on my ass.

"Don't break a nail, Princess," the obviously-straight guy who threw the strike snarked.

Ignoring them, I proceeded to throw my ball directly into the gutter and almost fell on my face, causing the old guys beside us to burst out laughing.

"Fucking fruitcake!" one of them called out.

"Alright... heteros one, homos nothing," Brian conceded to the old guys.

My next roll was also a gutter ball, but I managed to stay upright that time.

"I told you I sucked," I said to Brian as I walked back to the seating area.

"I plan on having you demonstrate just how much you suck later," Brian loudly announced as he went to take his turn.

Oh my...

He then threw a strike, his throwing form absolutely perfect. I couldn't help but jump up and scream in excitement.

Brian turned around, threw his arms up in victory, and stuck out his tongue. "That's right!" he yelled to the straight guys. "The fucking fairies got a strike! The fucking fairies got a strike! The fucking fairies are jumping up and down!"

I hopped over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. "That was awesome!"

"The fucking fairies are gonna celebrate," Brian said before dipping me and giving me a huge kiss for everyone in that bowling alley to see.

We finished our game - Brian scoring 225 to my attrocious 38 - and left. It was nearly dark out by that point.

"That was all around embarrassing," I said once we were back in the Jeep.

"You... certainly have room for improvement," Brian said, rolling in his lips. "Combined together, we did pretty damned good."

"I bet your dad used to take you bowling all the time," I said.

"You bet wrong. He only took me a few times over the years, and I think I did even worse than you did today the last time he took me. One of my friends in college was on a team and he taught me how to play properly."

I ran a finger down his bare right forearm. "So... are we going back to the loft? You can wash the bacon grease out of my hair."

"We have a stop to make first."

Brian drove us to his mother's house and parked.

"Are we going inside to see your mother?"

"Fuck no," he said as he got out and grabbed the bowling bag from the back seat.

I also got out and watched him as he took the ball out of the bag. He held the ball out in front of him for a few seconds before rolling it down the street. It clattered down the pavement and soon disappeared from view.

Brian threw his arms up and called out, "So long, Jack... you son of a bitch."

He turned around and caught my eyes, staring at me with a hard glare. I almost feared that he was going to give me a second black eye before he grabbed me in a tight hug.

We stood in the middle of the dark street, the cold wind blowing around us. He was shaking and I soon realized he was crying into my shoulder. I held onto him tightly, thinking for several seconds of something to say to him, but kept my mouth shut.

I woke up the next morning in Brian's bed. I was not hung over or throwing up, so that was a big improvement over the last time. I could also recall every glorious thing that had happened the night before.

Brian and I had gotten dinner at a gourmet sandwich shop on the way back to his loft, neither of us speaking much as we ate. I imagined that he was feeling vulnerable after his breakdown in the street and neither of us wanted to address it. There was also the fact that I was greatly enjoying a delectable French dip sandwich and was too busy eating to converse.

Honestly, I nearly had an orgasm eating that fucking sandwich. Everything should be served with a side of au jus.

We took a long, hot shower together once we had gotten to his place and that was only the beginning of the fun we had that night. He and I did nearly everything that two gay and naked men could have done together without actually having sex. We jerked each other off, we exchanged blow jobs, and he rimmed me. I begged him repeatedly to fuck me, to let me feel him inside of me, but he claimed that I wasn't "ready yet."

I couldn't have been more ready, dammit.

Brian was still asleep next to me, his breaths quietly whistling in and out of his nose. I slowly moved closer to him and started peppering light kisses on his face and his neck, then down to his chest and his belly. He sighed and carded his fingers through my hair. Taking that as encouragement, I went further south to his enormous morning wood.

I spent several minutes worshiping his cock, licking and sucking as Brian whimpered in delight. I had learned the previous night that I was going to need a lot of practice before I was able to take all of his (holy shit) nine inches into my throat. I instead took as much as I could manage, and his warm cum filled my mouth a minute or so later.

As much as I adored Brian and wanted to please him in every way, I could not lie... his spunk did not taste good. I had learned through hours of internet research that cum was only slightly tolerable at best. If you were able to successfully deep throat, at least it would bypass your taste buds, sliding down without your mouth even knowing about it.

As I swallowed Brian's load, I swore at that moment that I would become an expert cock sucker and the gorgeous man sleepily smiling at me was going to be the owner of the cock on which I perfected my technique.

"Morning, Sunshine," Brian said as I stretched out beside him.

"Good morning, Mr. Kinney," I cooed back at him.

Brian obviously did not mind the taste of his own cum, because he gave me a long, tongue-filled kiss.

All at once, I remembered that I had not called my mother since the previous afternoon, and knowing her, she was probably frantic with worry about where I was.

"Shit, what time is it?" I asked.

Brian looked over my shoulder at his alarm clock. "11:32."

"I need to call my mom, so she doesn't think I'm dead or something."

He handed me the cordless phone. "Dial star sixty-seven first, so my number doesn't pop up on the caller I.D."

"Oh yeah, good thinking," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek for his brilliance.

I dialed my mother's cell phone number while Brian got up to use the bathroom. The line rang three times before she answered.

"Hey, Mom."

"Justin! Thank God! Where have you been?"

I closed my eyes as I prepared to lie to her. "I stayed the night at Emmett's house."

Mom sighed. "I figured, but I wish that you had told me beforehand. When I woke up this morning and didn't see you in your bed, I got worried."

"Maybe if you had bought me a cell phone like I've begged a million times, you could have called me," I offered.

"Maybe you can buy one for yourself, now that you have a job," she countered.

"True. Anyway, the manager of the diner insisted I come to her house today for Thanksgiving, so that's where I'll be later. She's actually the mother of Emmett's roommate."

"That was very sweet of her to invite you. Be sure to thank her for me."

"I will."

"Well, I'm at the homeless shelter in the middle of peeling about two hundred pounds of potatoes, so I need to let you go," she said.

"Okay. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I love you."

"You, too, Sweetheart. Bye."

I hung up the phone and noticed that Brian was standing in the bathroom doorway. "You stayed the night at Emmett's house, did you?"

"I was hoping you hadn't heard that," I said, covering my face in shame. "I came out to my mother on Monday night, after she found your black shirt in my room, and I said that it was Emmett's... and that he and I have been dating."

Brian burst out laughing. "Oh, that's rich."

"I had to tell her something!" I yelled.

He laughed a few more seconds before adding, "And you're spending Thanksgiving at Deb's house?"

"That part is true. I'm supposed to be over there at one, but I really need to go home and change first. I can't very well wear the nasty t-shirt and jeans I wore yesterday."

We stopped at a gas station for some gas and coffee before going to my house. Since I knew it would be empty, I invited Brian in.

He marveled at the huge family portrait hanging on the wall in the living room. "Wow, how disgustingly perfect you guys look."

I looked at the picture, which had been taken two months prior. My parents, Molly, and I were all dressed in our Sunday best as we smiled for the camera. We were the model of the perfect American family.

"Yeah... you can't tell from looking at it that my parents had a huge fight the night before that picture was taken. Mom had found some weird charges on the credit card, probably stuff that Dad bought for one of his whores."

"Family portraits are usually pretty deceptive," Brian said. "We used to have one just like that at my house. If you looked at it closely, you could see that I had a black eye from dear old Jack. Mom tried to cover it with makeup, but it was still pretty swollen."

I changed into a navy blue sweater and gray slacks and put a little gel in my hair before we left. Brian drove us to Debbie's house but made no move to get out of the Jeep.

"I guess I'll see you later," he said as he idled at the curb.

"You're not going in?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't invited."

"I'm sure Debbie would love to have you. What else did you have planned for the day?"

"I was originally going to be partying in Miami today, so nothing."

"Debbie would freak if she knew you weren't going to have a Thanksgiving meal," I said as I opened the door to get out. "Come on."

Brian sighed and turned off the engine. We walked to Debbie's front door and Brian opened it without knocking.

Several heads turned when we walked into the small house, which had an open floor plan. I immediately saw Ted, Emmett, Michael, Ben, and a cute blonde guy in his twenties sitting around the living room. Debbie, Miss Peterson, and an older man were working in the kitchen while Melanie, looking like she was going to pop at any minute, sat at the dining room table.

"Oh, Jesus," Melanie groaned. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Brian put his arm around my shoulders. "I believe Justin was invited."

"I meant you, asshole," she clarified.

"Now Mel, be nice," Debbie said as she and the older man walked over to us. "I'm glad you guys came. Justin, this is my brother Vic."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, shaking his hand warmly. "Is it okay that I brought Brian?"

"Of course!" Debbie said, taking our coats. "The more, the merrier."

"No, it's not!" Melanie yelled.

"Please forgive my partner," Miss Peterson said to us. "The baby is due in four days and she's miserable."

"I didn't notice anything different from her usual behavior," Brian quipped as he gave Vic a hug.

We walked over to the living room area, where Planes, Trains and Automobiles was playing on the TV.

"I didn't see you at Babylon last night," Michael said to Brian.

"No, you didn't," Brian confirmed.

"Justin, this is my boyfriend Blake," Ted said, indicating the twink at his side.

I heard Emmett snort in disdain, which caused me to look at him curiously. He responded by getting up from his chair and wrapping me in a hug.

"Blake nearly killed Teddy two months ago. He had the balls to show up at Woody's last night," Emmett whispered in my ear before releasing me.

I then looked at Blake, who had stood up to greet me. I forced a smile as I shook his hand.

"Blake, this is Brian's boyfriend Justin," Emmett said before I could introduce myself.

Brian made a gagging noise behind me. "No, no, no, no... He's not my boyfriend."

"Then why in the hell did you bring him here?" Michael asked. "Isn't he your student?"

I looked around and noticed all eyes were on Brian.

"Uh..." Brian said, for once looking speechless. "Deb invited him, right Deb?"

"You showed up together," Ben pointed out.

"He needed a ride."

"Yeah, and he was probably already at your place this morning, wasn't he?" Melanie sniped.

Miss Peterson chimed in. "Did he spend the night with you again?"

"Again?" Michael nearly shrieked. "How many times has he spent the night, Brian?"

"They're going to fire you," Ben said. "You know that schools have zero tolerance for... whatever this is."

"You'll never get another teaching job," Miss Peterson added.

"Not if they don't find out," Brian said.

Ted spoke up. "I really thought you were smarter than this, Brian."

"He's already gotten you suspended," Michael said, glaring at me. "Are you going to let him make you end up in prison, too?"

"We're doing nothing illegal," Brian said. "He's seventeen, which is past the age of consent in this state."

"Are you seriously going to let some little blonde piece of ass destroy your life?" Michael yelled.

"Enough!" Debbie snarled. "I don't exactly condone what is going on between them, but this is Thanks-fucking-giving! Vic and I have been up since the crack of dawn preparing this meal and we're going to enjoy it together, dammit! Now, everybody get your asses over here and sit down!"

We all took a seat at one of the two tables, which were covered in beautiful tablecloths and place settings. Brian and I sat at a small card table with Michael and Ben while everyone else sat at the main dining room table.

"Michael, do you want to say Grace*?" Debbie asked.

Michael let out a big sigh before bowing his head and quickly rattling off, "Bless us, O Lord, and these your gifts, which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," a few of us echoed.

"I was hoping for something a little more heartfelt, son," Debbie snapped. "Whatever, let's go ahead and get started."

We all grabbed our plates and made a line to the kitchen counter, which was covered in various dishes with traditional Thanksgiving foods. I loaded up my plate with turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, corn, and two dinner rolls before retaking my seat.

"Holy shit," Brian said as he sat down, looking at the mountain on my plate. "Where are you going to put all that?"

"Oh, I'll find room," I said as I picked up my fork to dig in.

"Save room for dessert, everyone," Debbie said. "We've got pumpkin pie, pecan pie,and chocolate cake."

"So, Teddy," Emmett said a little too loudly. "Why don't you regale us with the story of how you and Blake first got together?"

Ted chuckled uncomfortably. "Uh... we go to the same gym."

"Not how you met," Emmett said, scoffing. "I meant, how did you guys first hook up?"

"I noticed him on Liberty Avenue one night," Blake said.

"He actually followed me from Woody's to Babylon."

Brian reached over and pinched my earlobe. "A little blonde stalker."

I stuck my tongue out at him between bites.

"Yeah, and then what happened?" Emmett insisted.

Debbie sighed. "We all know what happened next."

"No, we don't all know," Emmett said. "Justin, do you know what happened next?"

"No," I mumbled around a mouthful of the most delicious sweet potatoes I had ever tasted.

"Em, please," Ted pleaded.

"Oh, alright, I'll tell him," Emmett said, over-exaggerating his words. "Teddy brought Blakey-poo home with him and Blakey-poo made Teddy take GHB - the date rape drug."

"He didn't make me take anything," Ted snapped.

"And then Teddy had a seizure and lost consciousness, and Blake ran out of there like a bat out of hell," Emmett continued.

"I called an ambulance after I got outside," Blake said.

"Oh, well bless your little heart!" Emmett yelled, slapping the table with both hands and standing up. "Where the fuck were you when Ted was lying in a coma afterward, huh?"

"Cut it out!" Debbie yelled. "Emmett, go eat on the couch."

"Gladly," Emmett said, picking up his plate and wine glass and depositing himself in the living room.

We all ate in silence for a couple of minutes until Melanie let out a grunt.

"Ow," she said through gritted teeth, rubbing her swollen belly.

"Are you okay, Sweetie?" Debbie asked.

"Yeah, I've been having these fucking Braxton-Hicks contractions for weeks."

"Well, you did lose your mucus plug yesterday," Miss Peterson said.

"Gross!" Brian yelled. "We're trying to eat over here!"

"Does that mean the baby's coming?" Michael asked, worry in his voice.

"That means it'll be any day now and it can't come soon enough, in my opinion," Melanie said.

"Are you going to be taking time off of work after she's born, Linds?" Ben asked.

Brian barked out a laugh. "How would she explain that one? ‘Oh, excuse me, Dr. Perkins? My lesbian lover just gave birth to our gay friend's bastard child, so do you mind if I have a few days off?' That'll go over like a fart in church."

I couldn't help but giggle. That man was such a hilarious asshole.

"I was going to feign the flu and take a few days off," Miss Peterson answered, ignoring Brian.

"But Miss Peterson, what about the Christmas play?" I asked. "We still have a lot to do and the first performance is like, two weeks from now."

"You may as well call me ‘Lindsay' when we're out of school," she said, turning in her chair to speak to me. "Anyway, I assumed that Brian would have told you the play has been canceled, due to his little, uh... unplanned sabbatical. It's too late to get another teacher to direct."

I looked at Brian. "What?"

He picked up the bottle of red wine from the center of the table and refilled his glass, avoiding my eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked him.

"Ooh, lover's quarrel," Emmett sang out from the couch.

I put my fork down, my appetite gone. "How long have you known?"

"Since Monday, when Perkins suspended me," Brian finally admitted.

"You've known for three days and you didn't tell me? Even during all the time we've spent together?"

"And just how much time have the two of you spent together?" Michael asked.

"That's really none of your business, Michael," Brian said before looking at me. "You were already upset about the fight fallout and I didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh, so you were afraid of making your little boy toy upset, but you have no problem with the fact that Lindsay's been walking around with your dirty little secret for almost a week, nearly sick with guilt," Melanie said.

"Mel," Lindsay warned.

"No, this is bullshit!" Melanie said, heaving herself out of her chair. "If you were straight and having sex with a female student, it would be completely unacceptable. We would all be lined up to turn you in. But what, since you're both men, that makes it okay?"

"No one's saying that it is," Debbie said.

"Then why are we all just sitting here while the two of them parade their little affair right in front of us?"

"We are not ‘parading' anything," Brian said. "It's not as if I'm fucking him on top of the dinner table."

"I wouldn't complain if they did," Vic admitted.

Debbie gave Vic a light slap on his shoulder.

"I guess the two of you are just going to continue fucking until you get caught and expect all of us to keep it a secret?" Melanie asked.

Before either of us could answer, we were interrupted by the sound of Melanie's water breaking all over the floor.

As one could imagine, things got a bit hectic in Debbie's house after Melanie's water broke. Melanie froze in shock where she stood, Michael almost passed out, Ted reverse ate all over his plate, and Debbie started chanting "I'm gonna be a grandma!" over and over again.

Lindsay and Ben soon got Melanie out to Lindsay's car to take her to the hospital. Ben had to come back into the house to retrieve Michael, who was shaking and hyperventilating at that point as the reality of his impending fatherhood had finally hit him.

Debbie and Vic cleaned up the river of fluid that Melanie had left behind while Ted cleaned himself up. Ted then politely thanked our hosts before he and Blake left, much to Emmett's delight.

Once the chaos had died down, Emmett and I volunteered to put the leftovers away. I was about to ask Brian to help with the dishes, but he snuck out the back door before I could.

After everything was put away and the dishwasher was turned on, I noticed that Brian still had not come back into the house. I put on my coat and went outside.

I found him sitting on top of an old wooden picnic table smoking a joint. I took a seat next to him.

"It's cold out here," I said, pulling my collar up higher around my neck.

Brian blew out a big plume of smoke and held out the joint in front of my lips. "Yeah, it's supposed to snow tonight."

I took a puff and held it, fighting the urge to cough it out. I had only smoked pot a couple of times before but did not remember it tasting that strong.

"Now you see why I prefer to go out of town on Thanksgiving," he said.

I started laughing/coughing out the smoke. "Why, because someone's water always breaks?"

"No... fucking drama. It's impossible to put a bunch of nutcases like us in a room together without someone flipping out eventually."

"If we hadn't come, it would have been a peaceful meal."

"Fuck no, it wouldn't have been. Emmett still would have been in a bitchy mood because of Blake being here and Melanie's water still would have broken. Our presence only added a tiny bit of fuel to the fire."

"You don't think her yelling at us caused her water to break?" I asked.

"I'm certainly not taking any responsibility and neither should you. It's not our fault she got all riled up after sticking her nose where it didn't belong."

I leaned into him and put my head on his shoulder, already feeling a bit buzzed. "Well, I guess it was slightly better than if I had gone to Daphne's aunt's house with her, because at least there was meat here."

Brian chuckled. "You can't have Thanksgiving without turkey."

"Fuck no, you can't. It's un-American."

We finished the joint before going back into the house. Debbie, Vic, and Emmett were in the living room having dessert and watching the beginning of Mommie Dearest.

"Help yourselves, boys," Debbie yelled to us. "I'm not serving today."

Expecting Brian to pass on dessert, I was stunned when he cut himself a huge piece of chocolate cake.

"I really shouldn't get stoned on a food holiday," he muttered as he carried his plate to the living room and sat down on the recliner.

Not knowing which to choose, I cut myself a small piece of each of the two pies and the cake before joining Emmett and Debbie on the couch.

"Oh, my mom wanted me to thank you for inviting me today," I said to Debbie before taking a bite of the pumpkin pie, which was fucking delicious. I couldn't tell if it was actually good or if the marijuana was making it good, but I didn't give a shit.

"We were very happy to have you, Sunshine," she said. "You're welcome any time."

"It's always nice to have an adorable little blonde over at the house," Vic added with a wink.

"Uh, only as long as that little blonde didn't nearly kill my best friend," Emmett said. "I can't believe that Teddy brought that piece of disco trash here with him."

Debbie patted Emmett on his knee. "I didn't know who he was when they walked in the door. I've seen Blake in the diner a few times, but I didn't know that he was the one who put Ted in the hospital until you told me when you walked in and saw him."

"I just wish Teddy had more self respect than that," Emmett said sadly. "He deserves so much better. Sure, Blake is adorable and I've heard through the grapevine that he's great in bed, but-"

Brian snorted and said with a mouthful of cake, "Yeah, I know exactly how great."

"You fucked Blake?" Emmett and Debbie asked simultaneously. I would have asked, too, but my mouth was too full of pecan pie, which was even tastier than the pumpkin.

"Duh," Brian said before shoveling more cake into his mouth. "I took him home with me from the gym one afternoon a year or so ago."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Debbie told Brian.

"That boy is a cock sucking champeen," Brian added.

Emmett held up his hand in a stop motion. "Please, spare us the details."

"I'd like to hear more," Vic said.

Brian obliged the older gentleman. "He had zero gag reflex."

"Neither do I!" Emmett yelled. "So what? Being skilled in the art of dick swallowing doesn't make him a good person! He-"

Emmett's rant was interrupted by the phone on the kitchen wall ringing. Debbie answered it, and it became quickly obvious that she was talking to Michael.

She returned to the couch a couple minutes later. "Melanie is only two centimeters dilated, so it's going to be a very long night."

Brian nearly choked on his cake. "Well, I've lost my appetite. Let's get out of here."

I assumed he was talking to me, so I got up and put my empty plate in the sink. We put our coats back on, said our final thanks to our hosts, and left.

Once Brian and I got back to the loft, we both collapsed onto his bed and took a nap.

It was dark outside by the time I was woken up by what sounded like a horse running up a flight of stairs but was actually Brian running on his treadmill on the other side of the glass panels.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and sneakers while running faster than I could probably ever run, even if an ax murderer was chasing me.

"It's going to take me a half hour to burn off that cake," he huffed out. "You shouldn't have let me eat it."

I scoffed. "Oh yeah, blame me for having no self-restraint."

He pushed a button on the control panel in front of him, speeding up the treadmill. "If I didn't have any self-restraint, I'd be fucking you right now."

I stood in front of the machine and asked, "Why are you restraining yourself from fucking me?"

Brian stared into my eyes for several seconds as he continued to run. "Plausible deniability."

"You sucked my dick in the school locker room, among other things that go way beyond the acceptable teacher/student relationship," I reminded him.

He sped up the treadmill even more. "I'm sure you can find a movie or something to watch on TV."

I flipped through the channels and found the edited-for-TV version of Die Hard to mindlessly watch while Brian finished his run. I heard him turn off the treadmill, go into the bathroom, and turn on the shower.

I was disappointed that he did not invite me but decided after a minute of pouting to strip off my clothes. Instead of joining him in the shower, I went over to his bedside table and opened it. I was hoping to find some lube and was not disappointed; instead, I was actually a bit shocked at the number of bottles he had in stock. I grabbed a bottle of plain old KY Jelly and laid down on Brian's bed so that my feet were pointing towards the bathroom door.

I squirted some lube into my right hand and began to slowly stroke my cock. Being the seventeen year old young man that I was, it took no time for it to come to full attention.

Once I heard Brian turn the water off, I bent my knees further and opened my legs wide. He gasped a bit when he walked into the bedroom a minute later.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes locked onto my junk.

"Oh... nothing," I casually stated as I continued molesting myself.

"That's what I thought," he said as he rubbed a towel over his wet hair. "If I knew any better, I'd say you were trying to tempt your teacher into doing something that would get him in big trouble."

"You may as well seal the deal, Mr. Kinney. Judging by our twin hard-ons, it won't take either of us long to finish."

He walked closer to the bed, a sly grin on his face. "I want to see you finger yourself."

"Wh... what?" I stammered, my breath quickening as I fought the urge to come.

"Do you ever stick your fingers up your ass when you jerk off?" he asked, rubbing a hand over his own hard dick.

Oh, Christ...

"Sometimes."

He smiled and threw the lube bottle onto the bed. "Go ahead. Do what you do when you're alone."

I put more lube on my hands and reached between my legs with my left hand. I ran the tip of my index finger around the rim of my hole before pressing the tip in, watching as Brian's eyes grew wide with desire. I pressed my finger in farther, arching my back and moaning from the painful but somehow still pleasurable burn.

I was hoping he would offer to lend a hand or at least a finger, but he instead said, "I want to watch you come, Justin. You're going to do this all on your own."

That fucking asshole.

Since Brian wasn't going to join in, I decided to close my eyes and imagine how it would feel if it were his hands on me, his long fingers slipping inside my hole. Adding another finger and pushing in farther, I pressed against my prostate. I slowly stroked my cock, wanting to come very badly while also wanting the pleasure to last as long as possible.

"Do you think about me when you do this all alone in your bedroom, Justin?" Brian asked.

"Uh-huh," was all I was able to say, my bottom lip involuntarily rolling between my teeth.

He chuckled. "Jesus, you have no idea how hot you look right now."

I added a third finger and started to squeeze and twist my cock with my right hand. Finally conceding to the fact that I wasn't going to last but a few more seconds, I opened my eyes and saw that Brian was jerking his cock while watching my little show with lust-blown eyes. He threw his head back and groaned, and we both shot our loads at the same time.

I laid on the bed like a dog in the sun, panting and sweating. Brian threw a wet wash cloth on my belly a minute later.

"Well, that was nice," he said. "However, you need to work on your seduction technique."

"Excuse me?" I said as I started wiping up my mess.

He opened his underwear drawer and picked out one of his many pairs of black boxer briefs. "Get dressed, we need to get going."

"Where?"

"I'm going to Woody's and Babylon after I take you home."

I slowly sat up and watched as he started riffling through his dresser for an outfit for the night. "Why can't I come with you?"

"Because it's time for you to go home to your mommy. You've been with me for the last twenty-four hours and I need a break."

I threw my cum rag at him, which landed somewhere on the floor behind him. "I didn't know I was such a fucking nuisance. Here I thought we were having a good time together, but I guess not."

We got dressed, took the elevator downstairs, and walked out to the Jeep in silence. He turned the volume of the stereo way up, David Coverdale shrieking "Here I Go Again" into our ears.

He dropped me off at what was becoming the usual spot down the street from my house. I unhooked the seat belt, but before I could get out of the Jeep, Brian yanked me over to him.

I actually did not want to kiss him goodbye, I was so angry at him.

"Let go of me!" I yelled, trying to push him away.

He grabbed me behind my neck and nearly slammed our mouths together, hurting my teeth. I struggled against his strong grip for a few seconds before remembering that it was Brian Fucking Kinney kissing me and gave in.

It was impossible to stay mad at the son of a bitch.

We kissed longer than two men sitting in a car in the middle of conservative white suburbia ever should, roughly however long Def Leppard's "Love Bites" is.

He finally let me go at the end of the song and whispered "Later", my signal to leave. I reluctantly did without saying another word to him.

My father brought Molly home around eight o'clock that evening after spending the holiday at his sister's house. I had not seen him since the day he moved out a few weeks prior, and any day that I had to see that philandering asshole would have been too soon. Although Dad could have just dropped Molly off without coming into the house with her, he chose that evening to accompany her inside.

Mom and I were at our dining room table playing a game of Monopoly, which had been a tradition of ours on Thanksgiving evening for the past several years.  

"Hello, Craig," Mom said to my father when he walked into the room, not appearing any more happy to see him than I was.

"Jennifer," he said before looking at me. "What the hell happened to your face?"

I had to think for a moment about what he was referring to, as I had nearly forgotten about the Hobbs-induced black eye. It had started to fade from an angry bluish-purple to a sickly green at that point.

"Oh... I got in a fight on Monday at school," I said before picking up the dice to take my next turn in our game, rolling a five.

"A fight?" Dad repeated. "Why am I just now hearing about this?"

"Because you don't live here anymore, Craig," Mom gruffly explained.

"That doesn't mean I'm not still a part of my children's lives!" he yelled.

"You're not a part of my life anymore!" I yelled back.

"Why are you yelling at Daddy?" Molly asked from behind our father.

"Molly, go to your room," Mom ordered.

"Why?" she asked, her bottom lip quivering.

"Molly, now!" Dad barked at her.

My sister's cute little face crumbled in sadness before she turned away, the sound of her cries trailing through the house as she ran up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door closed.

"Way to go!" I said, gesturing in the direction of the stairs. "Now both of your kids hate you."

Dad put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Justin-"

"You know what? Whatever it is, how about you go and tell the slut you're currently fucking, because I don't want to hear it," I said before moving my battleship five places over to Tennessee Avenue, which I already owned.

After several seconds of silence, Mom said to Dad, "You heard him."

Dad left without another word.

"Your turn," I said as I picked up the dice and held them out to my mother.

She took the dice from me and smiled.

"I love you, Sweetheart."

I returned her smile. "I love you too, Mom."

********************

I was working at the diner the next morning when Michael called a little past ten o'clock to inform Debbie that Melanie had given birth to a healthy baby girl after nearly a full day of labor. Melanie and Lindsay chose the name "Jenny Rebecca" after a Barbra Streisand song that I had never heard.

After how Melanie had yelled at me and Brian the afternoon before, I couldn't help but hope that her labor had been very painful.

I was bussing a table around noon when Brian, Emmett, and a very tired-looking Michael and Ben walked in.

"Hey, busboy!" Brian yelled at me from across the room.

I responded by turning around and flipping him the bird.

Emmett laughed before Brian asked me, "Do you think we could get some water?"

I went behind the counter to retrieve four glasses of water, carrying them over to their table with my not-so-clean fingers in their glasses.

"Jesus," Michael griped as I sat the glasses down. "You work here now, where Brian eats nearly every single day? Why don't you just leave him alone before you get him in even more trouble?"

"If you'd like to complain, I suggest you speak to the manager," I said before flicking my wet fingers in his face and leaving to clean another table.

"Ma!" I heard Michael bellow.

I was standing at the urinal a bit later when Brian joined me in the otherwise empty men's room. I had barely finished pissing before he grabbed me by my shoulders and shoved me into a stall.

He pushed me against the stall panel and planted a tongue-filled kiss on me. I pushed him away a few seconds later.

"Okay, I'm confused," I said.

Brian reached down and wrapped his hand around my rock hard dick, which I had not gotten the chance to tuck back into my underwear.

"On the contrary, you feel pretty certain to me," he said as he started stroking.

"Wha... what are we doing, Brian?" I asked, trying to contain myself.

He tilted his head and kissed me right below my ear before saying, "I know for a fact that you are well aware of how the male orgasm is achieved, Mr. Taylor."

"No," I said, pausing for a moment to let out a strangled moan, "I mean, what are we doing with us?"

"The fuck if I know," Brian said before exchanging his hand for his mouth.

It took me about ten seconds to cum, the sounds of my pleasure echoing off the walls.

Brian stood back up and kissed me.

"Mmm... that's a much healthier dessert than chocolate cake," he said before walking out of the bathroom, again leaving me to put my disheveled self back together.

I walked back into the dining area and saw that Brian and the others had left. I then went over to their table to gather up their dirty dishes when Debbie stuck a twenty dollar bill in my face.

"I was instructed to give this to you from a gentleman at this table for your, as he called it, ‘excellent service.'"

I took the twenty from her and put it in my pocket. "I was given much more than I gave."

Debbie tilted her head in confusion. "Huh?"

I shook my head. "Never mind."

"Well, I'm about to drive my old jalopy over to the hospital to meet my new grandbaby," Debbie informed me. "Would you like to come with me?"

"I appreciate the invitation, Deb, but I don't think I'd be welcome. Melanie's not exactly a fan of mine."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that's true. Maybe someday she'll warm up to you."

"After I graduate and I'm no longer Brian's student, perhaps."

"Do you think that you and Brian will still be... what the fuck are you and Brian doing, anyway?"

"I don't think either of us really knows," I answered sadly as I stacked up the dirty plates.

"Sunshine, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, and I stopped trying to tell Brian how to live his long ago, but I have a bad feeling about this. You boys are playing with fire, and it's only a matter of time before one or both of you get burned."

Debbie squeezed me on my shoulder before leaving.

I worked a couple more hours before taking the bus home. It took nearly an hour and I could have called my mother, Daphne, or even Brian to pick me up, but I wanted to ride by myself.

I used that time to think about Brian and whatever the fuck was going on between us. The one thing that I was absolutely sure of was that I was completely in love with the son of a bitch. He was gorgeous, brilliant, and, when he allowed himself to be, very affectionate and caring. I was fairly certain that he at least liked me, that it was more than just physical attraction for him. I doubted that he would risk his teaching career just to get his rocks off.

The only thing I wanted more than anything was for us to be together with a real relationship. I wished that we didn't have to keep our involvement a secret, minus his friends, most of which did not approve of us. I also wished that he didn't feel the need to hold back from me sexually. Sure, we were having a lot of fun with each other, but I was ready and fully willing to give myself to him. We had already established that he was a top and I was a bottom, so we were a perfect match. I knew that my first time (or even the first few times) would be painful as hell, but if I was going to experience it with anyone, I wanted it to be with Brian. I hated that his conscience was preventing him from fucking me. A young, horny gay man could only live on hand jobs and blow jobs for so long.

I knew that Debbie was totally right - it really was only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan. The odds were stacked against me and Brian that we could make it for another six months unscathed. We had only been... fraternizing for less than a month and we had already seen a shitload of trouble. I had gotten into an argument with Daphne, practically been forced to come out to my mother, and gotten myself and Brian suspended after the fight with Hobbs. It was a real possibility that Brian could lose his job and even if he did absolve me of the blame, I knew that I would feel guilty for the rest of my life if he was fired. I assumed that if Brian would have ever been fired, it would be after the school found out about us, not because I needed Brian to rescue me from an asshole like Chris Hobbs.

Once I got home, I took a shower and had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I knew that night was the "Big Dick Contest" at Babylon and that Brian and the boys were definitely going to be there. I gave Emmett a call and asked if he could have Ted pick me up around eight, and he was thrilled that I wanted to tag along.

My soul intention for going to Babylon that night was to see Brian and go home to his loft with him, so I wanted to look extra hot. I went through my old clothes and found a baby blue t-shirt that was a size too small and paired it with some black cargo pants that really showed off my ass. I mussed my hair up with some gel and sprayed on some Tommy cologne.

I walked downstairs around 7:55 and put on my coat, preparing to go outside to wait for Ted and Emmett at the curb as I had before. My mother unfortunately caught me before I made it out the door.

"Where're you going?" she asked. "And don't say Daphne's, because you're obviously dressed to go out and party, not have a sleep over."

I actually was dressed for a sleep over, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

"No, I'm not going to Daphne's," I admitted, figuring that the truth was the best way to go. "I'm going out with Emmett and his friends tonight and I might not be home before tomorrow morning."

"Emmett's picking you up here?" Mom asked, her face lighting up. "Could I meet him?"

Fuck me.

"Uh..."

"Oh, come on," she goaded. "I won't embarrass you or anything. I just want to meet the man who my son has been spending so much time with lately."

I watched out the front window for Ted's car, which pulled up in front of our house a few minutes later. I went outside, where Emmett was climbing out of the car to let me in the back seat.

"Hey, Sweetie!" Emmett called out, wrapping me in a big hug.

"Uh... Emmett, my mom wants to meet you before we go," I said uneasily.

"Oh, okay," Emmett said, slightly caught off guard.

Emmett told Ted to hold on for a minute and began to walk towards the house, but I stopped him.

"I have to warn you... I told my mom that we've been dating."

He snorted out a laugh. "You what?"

I hung my head in shame. "Yeah... I couldn't tell her who I'm actually seeing, you know, and she knows that I'm dating someone, so-"

Emmett held his hand up. "Of course. I'd be honored to be your fake boyfriend."

We walked up the driveway and inside the foyer arm-in-arm, where Mom was waiting for us.

"Mom, this is Emmett. Emmett, this is my mother Jennifer Taylor."

My mother took a few moments to give Emmett a thorough inspection. I did not think it were possible for him to look more flamboyant than he did at that moment. He was wearing a pink sequined newsboy cap, his lime green coat, and pink camouflage pants. His face was heavily made up and he was sporting long false hot pink eyelashes. His nails were even painted glittery pink.

Mom was understandably speechless.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Taylor," Emmett greeted, holding his hand out to her.

She stuttered for a bit before taking his hand, which he promptly kissed, leaving an imprint of pink lipgloss.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Emmett," Mom finally managed to choke out.

"Well, we need to get going," I said, shoving Emmett toward the door a little rougher than necessary.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Taylor, your son is in very safe hands," Emmett assured her.

All Mom could do was give him a forced smile and wave us goodbye as we made our way back to Ted's car.

Ted, Emmett, and I made a quick visit to Woody's where, much to Emmett's chagrin, Ted met up with Blake. I looked for Brian, but he was not there.

Being VIPs, Ted and Emmett (along with Blake and I, their guests) were later let in the door at Babylon ahead of the long line. Wanting to stay as far away from Blake as possible, Emmett dragged me away from the couple and out to the dance floor after we checked our coats.

We danced through one song before I said to Emmett, "You know, I think you ought to cut Blake some slack."

Emmett took a step away and glared down at me. "Excuse me?"

"Well, Ted's your best friend and as long as he's dating Blake, you're going to have to be around the two of them. Ted has obviously forgiven Blake for what he did-"

"I will never forgive Blake," Emmett snapped. "You didn't see Teddy lying in that hospital bed in a coma, hooked up to a bunch of machines. Brian was just about to pull the plug before Teddy woke up."

"Brian? Why would Brian pull the plug? I mean, why would it even be his decision to make?"

"Because Teddy gave Brian his power of attorney in case he was ever unable to make his own medical decisions."

This surprised me, as I did not see Brian and Ted as that close of friends.

Emmett continued, obviously seeing the confusion on my face. "Teddy knew Brian would be the only one who would have the guts to do it."

I slowly nodded in understanding. "Ah."

"Because Brian's a heartless asshole," he added.

It was my turn to be offended. "No, he's not! Brian is the most caring person I've ever met."

Emmett barked out a laugh. "Well sure, he's fucking you, so of course you'd think that he's sweet as pie."

"We're not fucking!" I blurted out.

"You're... you're not?" he asked in shock.

"And he definitely has a heart!" I continued, not wanting to get into the particulars of my and Brian's sex life if I didn't have to. "You didn't see him after he finally said goodbye to his father. You weren't the one who held him when he cried!"

"Okay, okay!" Emmett said, trying to make peace. "I'm sorry. I've just never thought of Brian as anything more than a guy that lives to party and fuck."

I was holding back tears as I said, "That's only a small part of him. He's so much more than that, but he doesn't let anyone see it. He acts all big and bad, but it's just an act to keep people at a distance so they can't hurt him."

Emmett tried to hug me, but I pulled away from him and started to shove my way through the crowd, which seemed to be growing thicker by the second. The "Big Dick Contest" that night had apparently brought in homos from every corner of the state.

I went over to one of the dancing platforms and stepped up on it to get a better view of the room. I looked over the dance floor and up on the balcony for Brian but did not see him.

I eventually made it to the bar and asked one of the bartenders if Brian was there. All I got was a "yeah" before said bartender started to mix a drink for someone.

Not wanting to search for him in the backroom and finding him balls deep in some lucky bastard, I took the stairs up to the second level and walked to the door of Brian's office. I noticed the door had a peephole and I made sure to stand in front of it as I knocked.

I saw movement behind the peephole a few moments later, but the door did not open.

"Brian!" I yelled. "I know you're in there, so open up!"

He finally opened the door, looking sexier than I ever thought possible in a sleeveless black shirt and jeans. He also looked positively pissed to see me.

"I should have known that you'd be coming tonight," he said in annoyance.

"I caught a ride with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern," I quipped as I tried to move past him into the office.

Brian blocked me with his arm in the doorway. "Did I say you could come in?"

I looked into the office and saw that there was a man I did not recognize sitting on the couch. There was a mirror on the coffee table and it didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what it was for.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"That's none of your fucking business," he growled. "Now, take your little ass back downstairs before I throw you out of here myself."

I stumbled back a few steps as if he had just hit me. "What's your fucking problem, Brian? My dick was down your throat just a few hours ago and now you're treating me like I'm a piece of garbage!"

He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. "I'll be on the balcony at twelve for the contest. Try to stay out of trouble until then."

Brian then slammed the door in my face.

I understood completely why the others thought he was a heartless asshole, though that was certainly not the first time Brian had been a shithead to me for seemingly no reason. Just because I wasn't surprised, that didn't make me feel any better.

I stomped down the stairs and went back over to the bar area, which was busier than Grand Central, to get a drink. I was about to give up being served any time that week before I saw Emmett's sparkly hat a few feet away.

I soon had a martini glass with some kind of red liquid in my hand, which I discovered upon drinking was a Cosmopolitan. I didn't much care for cranberry juice because I always associated it with the time I got a painful urinary infection as a kid, but I tossed the cocktail back nonetheless and handed the empty glass to Emmett.

"Lord ham turkey!" he said. "Trying to get drunk, are we?"

Instead of answering him, I took his glass that had more of the piss juice in it from him and gulped it down.

"I'm guessing that you ran into Mr. Sweet and Caring?" he asked as he took the second empty glass from me.

I hiccupped and gave him a fake smile. "Indeed, I did. Um... do you know if Brian has ever been diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder? Like, bipolar or something?"

Emmett laughed. "Not that I know of, but that would explain a lot. But first, he'd have to go to a shrink, but I doubt that would ever happen unless he was brought into the looney bin wearing a straight jacket."

I really needed to ask Brian if I could get one of those VIP cards, because Emmett was soon able to get himself another Cosmo ahead of all the other thirsty queers.

"This one's mine, you silly goose," he told me before taking a sip to claim ownership.

I rolled my eyes before looking at my watch. There was still more than an hour left before the contest was supposed to start, and despite the loud music and all the men dancing around me, I was bored.

"Hey," I said to Emmett. "Do you ever go to the backroom?"

He nearly choked on his drink. "Once in a while. I usually find something that tickles my fancy out on the dance floor, and we either go back to my place or his to fuck in privacy. The backroom is just so... Brian."

I grabbed Emmett's hand and started pulling him towards the backroom, causing him to spill the rest of his Cosmo on himself and the floor. We eventually made it to the long blue-lit hallway where we walked past a blonde twink getting taken from behind by a very large gentleman.

"Hey Todd, how's it going?" Emmett said.

"Fine!" the twink replied.

I led Emmett further into the room and stopped when I found an empty patch of wall. I pushed Emmett against the wall and started to kiss him.

"Whoa, little doggy," he said as he pulled away from me. "I'm only supposed to be your pretend boyfriend, remember?"

"So?" I said before kissing him again.

Emmett let me devour his mouth for a few more seconds before he pulled away again. "So... we can't do this, Honey."

"Why the fuck not?" I said, my words slurring slightly from the alcohol, which was beginning to make my tongue, teeth, and eyebrows tingle.

"Because this is not the place to make out; it's the place to suck and fuck. And you're my friend, and I don't fuck my friends."

I rested my forehead against his chest, feeling like a complete jackass. "You're right... I'm sorry, Em."

"Don't ever apologize for kissing me," he said before grabbing me under my chin and tilting my head up to look at him. "Your teacher taught you very well. Speaking of the devil, how about you go find him, bring him down here, and have him ravish you as he rightfully should in a room like this?"

"He's upstairs in his office snorting coke or whatever the fuck else you snort off of a mirror," I said.

"So, a typical Friday night for our dear Mr. Kinney. Now, I'm going to go and get myself another Cosmo and hopefully I'll be able to drink it all without getting it stolen or spilled."

Emmett gave me a little peck on my lips and departed, leaving me alone in the darkened orgy room.

Although I wasn't particularly attracted to Emmett in a sexual way, my dick couldn't help but stand at attention in response to our little make out session. I recalled how easy it was for me to find a willing cock sucker the last time I was in that room and decided that I was going to see if I could duplicate my previous outing.

I walked around the room for a little bit, checking out the action. There was a guy getting his ass eaten, another getting a blowjob, and a guy in a sling getting fucked. I saw three guys engaged in a threesome where one guy was being fucked while the guy that was fucking him was being fucked by the third guy... a train, as I had learned from porn.

I watched the three guys in utter fascination, amazed by how well the three of them worked together in pursuit of their common goal of orgasm. The guy in the middle of the train must have been having the most fun, since he was not only fucking someone but was also being fucked simultaneously. It was also a position with a lot of responsibility, lest he cut the fun short before the front guy and the caboose were finished.

It wasn't until the guy in the middle, whose pants and underwear were pooled around his ankles, turned his head in my direction that I even thought to see if his looks warranted that much attention from not one but two gentleman. I thought that his profile looked familiar and I found myself walking closer to the group to get a better look at the juicy center of the train.

That was when I locked eyes with none other than Chris Hobbs, the juicy center in question.

"Tay-" he began to say, but lost his ability to speak when he came with a loud groan.

Just as I thought it would, his orgasm stopped the entire operation. The caboose shot his load in response to Hobbs cumming, but the front guy was apparently not finished yet.

"Hey!" the front guy yelled over his shoulder.

The poor guy was left unsatisfied after Hobbs rudely pulled out of him without so much as a hand to help him finish. The caboose was apparently content, since he pulled out of Hobbs and silently went on his merry way.

Hobbs turned towards me in shock, his half-hard cock still covered in the used condom.

"Taylor?" he was finally able to say. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. "What am I doing here?"

It was as if he suddenly realized the position he was in, because he quickly yanked the condom off, threw it on the floor, and pulled his pants back up.

"This... you... I..." Hobbs babbled.

I made a show of tilting my left ear towards him so I could hear him better. "Yes? I'm listening."

He looked as if he was going to cry. "You can't tell anyone about this."

And that was how Chris Hobbs became my bitch.

I draped my arm across his shoulders. "I would never tell anyone about this, Chris... provided you do something for me."

I went up to the balcony a few minutes before midnight. Brian joined me right as someone announced over the sound system that the Big Dick Contest was about to begin.

The bitchy Brian from earlier in the evening had been replaced by a very happy and horny Brian, no doubt a result of whatever he had snorted in his office with whom I assumed had to be his dealer. He stood behind me and wrapped his strong arms around my torso. Like an attention-starved puppy, he rubbed the side of his face on mine and nuzzled my ear with his nose. I could feel his hard cock grinding into my lower back.

"Hey Sunshine," Brian said before giving my earlobe a lick.

I hugged his arms tighter to me as I tried to focus on the night's entertainment.

The host for the contest, Belladonna, was the same drag queen who had hosted the Awesome Abs Contest the very first night I had come to Babylon with Daphne. Belladonna introduced the five contestants as they lined up on the stage with their backs to the crowd. Belladonna then instructed the men to drop their pants so she could measure them with a ruler.

"Why do they stand with their backs to us?" I asked Brian. "We can't see their dicks that way."

"We sometimes get undercover cops in here and we don't want to get slapped with public indecency charges," he explained as he reached down and started rubbing me slowly through my thin pants.

"Then how can you have the backroom, where men are always naked and fucking?" I asked before letting out a little whimper from the attention he was giving me.

"Every club on the street has one, plus there are a couple of bath houses where mendo not go to get clean. The cops don't have the manpower to raid all of us. As long as they don't hear about any prostitution or underage sex going on, they don't do anything. We try to keep it fairly tame here in the main area."

"Oh, what is this - five and an eighth?" Belladonna said to the only black guy on the stage. "Now, contestants are reminded that they must be at least six inches. That is the rule of thumb, and quite frankly, I've seen bigger thumbs."

The crowd laughed as the black guy was pushed off the stage.

"I thought black guys were notorious for having big dicks," I said.

"That's a total myth," Brian said before imitating Forrest Gump's slow southern drawl. "Dicks are like a box of chocolates - you never know what you're gonna get."

Belladonna measured the last contestant on the stage, a white guy who could not have been taller than five feet, and announced, "Ten and five sixteenths, we have a winner!"

"See what I mean?" Brian said with a chuckle. "Dude probably can't get on a rollercoaster, but he could choke a whale with that dick."

We soon made our way downstairs to the dance floor, where Brian and I started grinding to the beat of some techno house song. His hands were soon cupped firmly on my ass and his tongue was all over my jaw line and neck.

"I'm gonna fuck you," Brian said into my ear. "I'm gonna fuck you all... night... long."

I groaned in anticipation. "Really? What happened to ‘plausible deniability?'"

He answered by kissing me long and deep, nearly swallowing my tongue in the process. I could taste whisky in his mouth along with an odd bitter flavor.

"Whoa," I said as I pulled away before he swallowed me whole. "What all have you taken tonight?"

"Just a little coke, no big deal," he said before going back to my neck.

"And you've been drinking, too, right?"

"Yes, Mom, I've been drinking, too," he answered in annoyance. "So the fuck what?"

I grabbed his head and forced him to look at me. "Mixing cocaine and alcohol is really dangerous. You could have a heart attack and-"

"Christ!" Brian yelled. "Will you get off my ass?"

"I... I'm sorry," I said, seeing the possibility of me getting Brian's glorious cock up my ass that night quickly fading away.

"I mean, how the fuck have I lived this long without you lording over me?" he continued ranting.

"Brian, you know how much I care about you," I said as I put my hand on his cheek.

"Get the fuck off of me!" he yelled before shoving me away and disappearing into the crowd.

Fuck me and my big mouth.

By that point, the buzz from the alcohol I had consumed earlier had worn off, leaving me feeling tired with a slight headache. I thought about trying to find Brian, but decided not to in fear of pissing him off even more.

I claimed my coat and walked down the street to the diner. It had been snowing on and off for the last day few days and it was coming down quite heavy then. I ordered a BLT, fries, and a strawberry milkshake, eating them slowly at the counter while I worried about Brian getting home safely that night.

I was just about to call a cab to take me home when Emmett, Ted, and Blake walked in the door. I nearly cried when Emmett came over and wrapped me in one of his comforting hugs.

"Hey baby, I didn't expect to see you here," Emmett said.

"Yeah, well... better luck next time, I guess."

Emmett lightly patted my back. "I hear you. It was an unsuccessful night for me, too, after I left the backroom."

I smiled as I remembered my discovery of Hobbs. "It wasn't all bad. Quite successful, now that I think about it."

"Huh?" Emmett said as he looked at me curiously. "I thought ‘success' would have been getting Mr. You-Know-Who to take you home and finally deflower you."

I shrugged. "It'll happen eventually."

I joined the three of them at a table and distracted Emmett while Ted and Blake made goo-goo eyes at each other. Emmett invited me to stay the night as his place, which I happily accepted.

Ted dropped me and Emmett off around two AM. We went up to the third floor apartment and fell asleep on the couch while watching It's a Wonderful Life on AMC.

Michael discovered Emmett and I still asleep on the couch together the next morning and blew up in a crazed fury. Apparently, he did not like me for neither Brian nor Emmett, though Emmett assured him that he and I were only friends.

"Does your elevator not go all the way to the top, Michael?" Emmett asked. "We still have our clothes on, for the love of Liza!"

Michael didn't care, not wanting me to spend another minute in their apartment. He gave me a ride home in his Toyota Corolla, his hatred for me nearly boiling over.

"How's the baby?" I asked as we rode along the snowy streets.

"Fine," he practically barked in response.

Michael stopped in front of my house. As I was getting out of the car he said to me, "Do me a favor and leave my friends alone, okay? Especially Brian; he doesn't need you interfering in his life anymore."

I chuckled before saying, "First of all Michael, I will do whatever the fuck I want. Secondly, Brian will definitely do whatever the fuck he wants, and if what he wants to fuck is me, then it's none of your fucking business."

I slammed the door and walked up the driveway, not even thanking Michael for the ride.

The rest of the next three days went by in a rather boring blur of sitting around, watching TV, reading Brian's novel Step Out of the Ordinary for the third time, and jerking off. I worked the morning shift at the diner on Sunday, hoping Brian would show up, but he never did.

Tuesday finally rolled around, which was the first day I was allowed to come back to school after my suspension from the fight with Hobbs. That was also the day that Brian was to have his meeting with the school board to see if his own suspension would be lifted.

My mother had received a phone call from a school board secretary the day before requesting that she and I attend Brian's meeting, since I was of course involved with the incident that resulted in Brian's suspension. I was called to the office shortly before 10 AM and was instructed to go to a classroom down the hall.

I walked into the classroom, which apparently did not normally have a class held in it during that period. I saw eight unfamiliar people sitting at the desks, which I was told were members of the school board, along with Dr. Perkins. Chris Hobbs, Brian, and my mother were there. Hobbs's parents, who I recognized as members of our country club, were also there along with a man I assumed was Brian's lawyer. I sat down at a desk beside my mother.

"Alright, it appears that all interested parties are present," Dr. Perkins said from his place at a podium at the front of the room before beginning to read a piece of paper in front of him.

"We are all here concerning an incident that occurred on Monday, November 20th at approximately three PM here at St. James Academy. On that date and time, students Justin Taylor and Christopher Hobbs, both of which are seventeen year-old seniors, got into a physical dispute in the hallway outside the school auditorium. Brian Kinney, a full-time English instructor here at St. James since 1994, broke up the fight by physically pulling Christopher off of Justin and placing him in some sort of headlock. Another instructor, Lindsay Peterson, saw Mr. Kinney with his hands on Christopher and told him to let Christopher go, which Mr. Kinney did. I immediately suspended Mr. Kinney with pay until the incident could be reviewed by this board.

"As is stated in Article 3, Section 5, Paragraph 4 of the 2000-2001 St. James Academy Instructor Handbook, which Mr. Kinney acknowledged having received and read at the beginning of the school year, instructors are prohibited from getting between fighting students unless he or she believes it is absolutely necessary to prevent serious injury.

"Mr. Kinney, in explaining his actions on November 20th, said that he believed Justin was in danger of serious injury, as Christopher was observed by Mr. Kinney straddling Justin on the floor and having his hands around Justin's throat. It is up to the board today to determine whether Mr. Kinney's actions were warranted and whether his suspension from his duties as an instructor at St. James Academy should be lifted. If this nine-member Board decides in a majority vote that Mr. Kinney's suspension should not be lifted, Mr. Kinney will therefore be terminated."

It took everything in my power not to burst into tears and/or throw up.

Brian was first asked to stand at the podium and tell his side of the story. He kept it fairly short and sweet, saying that he had been inside the auditorium when he heard shouting out in the hallway and found Hobbs straddling me with his hands around my throat. Seeing a student in danger, Brian said that he grabbed Hobbs under his arms and pulled him off of me, admitting that he may have held Hobbs a little too long before Lindsay told him to let him go. He realized afterwards that what he had done could have gotten him in serious trouble, but he did not regret it.

"I would not have been able to live with myself if I hadn't done something to prevent one of my students from getting seriously injured on my watch," Brian told the board, glancing at me for a moment.

I was asked, along with my mother, to stand at the podium next. Dr. Perkins asked me to tell everyone what had happened, emphasizing that I not leave out any details.

I decided that I may as well tell the whole ugly truth in a speech I had been rehearsing for the past day.

"Chris and I have been having problems since March of this year. You see, he discovered during a party that he and I both attended during Spring Break that I'm gay. Since then, Chris has been very disrespectful to me, calling me derogatory names and going out of his way to make my life here at school miserable. I made the mistake of not letting my parents or anyone at school know of what had been going on.

"Last Monday, Chris and some of his friends saw me in the hallway as I was going to the auditorium for a Christmas play rehearsal. I was going to be the stage manager and Mr. Kinney was directing. Chris started yelling in my face, making fun of how I like Shakespeare."

I looked directly at Brian as I said, "Chris told me that Mr. Kinney and I were a couple of Shakespeare-loving faggots."

Brian's eyebrows went up in surprise. I knew he kept his sexuality very guarded at school, but it wasn't as if I had just outed him; I was only quoting Hobbs, and hopefully no one thought that what Hobbs had said was true. Hobbs himself didn't even know for a fact that Brian was actually gay.

"I snapped, finally deciding that I could not take his abuse anymore and would not tolerate him saying disrespectful things about Mr. Kinney, whom I greatly respect. I shoved Chris and told him to shut up. Chris punched me in my eye - you can probably still see the bruise - and tackled me to the floor. He then put his hands around my neck and told me he was going to kill me. His friends were cheering him on and did nothing to stop him. I thought I was going to black out before Mr. Kinney pulled Chris off of me. I fully admit that shoving Chris like I did was wrong, but he could have seriously hurt me. If Mr. Kinney hadn't been there to stop him, Chris might have actually choked me to death, for all I know. He's certainly strong enough to do it if he wanted to and I'm not strong enough to fight him off."  

A few of the board members asked me some follow-up questions, but nothing much else was garnered.

Next, Hobbs and his parents were asked to go to the podium for Hobbs to tell his side. He admitted that everything I had said was true - he had been tormenting me for the past several months because I was gay, which ultimately led up to our fight. He also admitted to calling me and Mr. Kinney faggots, punching me, and choking me.

Hobbs then did exactly what we agreed he would do after I had discovered him in the backroom.

"If I may, I would just like to apologize to Justin for everything I've done to him lately," Hobbs said. "Justin is actually a really nice, smart guy and he does not deserve the hell I've put him through. Now that we're both back at school after being suspended for our fight, I promise that I will be nothing but respectful to him from now on. Also, I ask the board to please bring back Mr. Kinney."

"Chris!" his father snarled at him.

Hobbs ignored him as he continued, "I'm actually glad that he was there to stop me before I really did hurt Justin. I've always had an anger problem; if you look at my student record, you'll see that this is not the first fight I've been in at school. I was almost kicked off of the football team on two different occasions because of several ‘unnecessary roughness' calls."

Hobbs finished his little spiel by saying, "Anyway, Mr. Kinney is a great teacher and he should not lose his job because of this. It would be a huge loss to St. James if he were fired because of my actions."

I looked over at Brian, who had his mouth hanging open in astonishment.

If only he knew that he had me to thank.

After Brian's meeting adjourned, with the school board members saying that they would take a vote later that afternoon on Brian's fate, I spent the rest of the school day feeling like I had a swarm of bees in my stomach. I couldn't even eat lunch, I was so fucking nervous.

Daphne could sense something was wrong as I sat at our lunch table and stared at my greasy piece of pizza.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I wanted so badly to tell her everything about me and Brian, but I knew I couldn't. It wasn't as if I did not trust Daphne to keep it a secret, as I had always been able to confide in her about everything, but never anything that big.

I shook my head slowly, unable to look at her. "Nothing."

"Bullshit, you look sadder than you did when Jack died at the end of Titanic," my best friend said.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I cried my fucking eyes out when he died and still do every single time I watch that fucking movie. No tears today, though."

"Then what the fuck is wrong?" she demanded to know.

I shrugged, deciding to tell her what was bothering me at that very moment. "I'm just worried about whether or not Mr. Kinney will be allowed back at school. It would really suck if he were fired, especially if it were partially my fault."

"Yeah, that would greatly reduce the amount of eye candy around here," Daph admitted.

"What about Glen Reeves?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "What's going on with you and him lately, anyway? I thought you'd be sitting with him instead of at the Nerd Table with us."

"Hey," September said in a defensive tone. "We are not nerds; we are young, sophisticated intellectuals."

I looked at September and asked, "Okay... how about the ‘Yuppie Table?'"

She smiled and nodded. "I like that."

Daphne glanced over her shoulder at the Jock Table where Glen was sitting with his buddies. "I told him that I wanted to sit here with you today since you've been gone from school for so long. But as far as what's going on with us... I don't know."

"Have you guys done the nasty yet?" I asked.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "That's none of your business."

"Oh come on, I tell you everything," I claimed, the guilt of my secret love life scratching at me once again.

Daphne leaned in and whispered, "Well, we've fooled around some. He wants to do more and so do I... I think. Only, he's a lot more experienced than I am and I do not want to come off as a total freak who doesn't have a clue."

"So practice first," September interjected, making both Daphne and I jump as if we had forgotten she was even there.

"Nah," Daphne said, wrinkling her nose. "I've heard horror stories about the first time. If the guy isn't careful, it can be really painful."

"Ugh, you have no idea," September said. "When me and Jeremy did it the first time, it hurt so much. The next time he wanted to do it, I told him that I wished he'd been gentler before and he was all, ‘That's why I don't like doing it with virgins - you girls are so fucking whiney.'"

"Maybe if you did it with someone who was also a virgin, it wouldn't be so bad," I offered.

"Someone like you?" Daphne asked.

"Aww, that would be so sweet," September cooed. "Who better to lose your virginity to than your best friend?"

"September, I'm gay," I pointed out.

"So? That's even better!" September all but shouted. "You won't have to worry about it being weird afterwards, because it'll be purely physical. Think of it as a favor you're doing for each other."

Daphne and I looked at each other with slightly curious expressions before the bell rang.

I saw Daphne again during English Lit class where our sub Mrs. G was trying her best to interpret Hamlet. I wished like hell that Brian was there and hoped that he would be back very soon.

Daphne passed a note to me during class that said: Are you thinking about what September said?

I honestly was not, but I gave Daph a slight nod anyway. She must have noticed that I was bothered by something and guessed that had to be it.

I had my Economics and French classes before the school day was over. As always, I met Daphne at her locker so she could drive us home.

We spent the short ride to her house with Destiny's Child serenading us with songs from their Writing's on the Wall album.

Daphne pulled into her driveway and cut the engine in the middle of "Say My Name."

We sat there for a few seconds, neither of us moving to get out of the car before she said, "Would you actually... do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, although I knew and was hoping to prolong the inevitable conversation.

"You know - swap virginities with me?"

Fuck.

I fake-laughed as I stared at the dashboard. "That concept has always sounded so weird to me, as if your virginity is an actual thing you can just hand over to someone like it was a piece of gum. Like, here you go, enjoy."

Daphne giggled. "Yeah... but would you?"

I finally looked at her. "Daph, must I remind you that I'm a fag?"

"I'm well aware, but you've never fucked a guy before," she stated as if it were something she was absolutely sure of.

"No, but I'm not totally inexperienced," I confessed.

Her mouth dropped open. "When... and with who?"

Fucking fuck. I really needed to learn when to keep my mouth shut as Brian had suggested to me more than once before.

"It's whom," I said, correcting her as I often did when she used incorrect grammar.

Daphne scoffed. "Whatever, you fucking geek. Tell me."

I unhooked my seatbelt and grabbed the top handle of my backpack at my feet. "I have a lot of homework to catch up on."

She grabbed onto the sleeve of my coat before I could escape.

"Oh no, you don't. You're not going anywhere before you tell me who you've..." She paused and gasped. "Holy shit, not that Emmett guy?"

Hell, Emmett already approved of me using him as my fake boyfriend with my mother, so I may as well...

I sighed. "Yeah."

Daphne looked almost disgusted. "You said that he wasn't your boyfriend! You even got all pissed at me when I even suggested it!"

"Well, I was embarrassed, I guess," I claimed. "I mean, he's not technically my boyfriend but we have messed around a few times. He's not my usual type but he isattractive. He's really nice and he's a great kisser, too."

I was proud that I wasn't lying about that last part.

I could see Daphne trying to restrain her abhorrence of her memory of the flaming queen she met before. "But... you haven't had sex with him yet, right?"

"No, I'm technically still a virgin," I said, that time sad that I wasn't lying about that part either.

She bit her lip before asking, "Well, even though you like guys, if you had to have sex with any girl on the planet, like if the future of the human race relied on it, could you even entertain the thought of doing it with me?"

I took a breath to answer, but she interrupted me.

"I mean, I'm not a total troll, am I?"

"No! You're beautiful, Daph. Yeah, I'm sexually attracted to guys, but I can still recognize an attractive girl when I see one. Hell, if I were given the chance to fuck Reece Witherspoon, I probably would."

Daphne laughed before confessing, "I would fuck her, too!"

"Maybe we could even have a foursome with her and Ryan Phillippe, huh?" I offered.

"That would be fucking hot!" Daphne said as we both laughed like two hyenas.

We finally calmed down before Daphne asked, "Will you at least think about it?"

"Yeah, I'll think about fucking Ryan Phillippe," I said with a smile.

She smacked me on my arm. "No... you know what I mean."

I slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'll think about it."

Satisfied with my answer, Daphne finally let me go home. I said hello to my mother, who was helping Molly with her homework in the living room, grabbed the cordless phone, and went to my room.

I quickly changed out of my school uniform into a pair of jeans and a baby blue sweater before dialing Brian's phone number, which I had memorized by that point. The line rang six times before his voicemail picked up.

"Hey, this is Brian Kinney. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

I had no idea what the fuck to even say but went with, "Hey Brian, it's Justin... Taylor. I was just wondering if you've heard anything about, well, you know. Um... give me a call back or send me an email. I... I hope they made the right choice. Uh, alright, bye. Oh wait, this is Justin Taylor, if I didn't say that before. Okay, bye."

I hung up the phone and smacked it against my forehead. "Fucking spastic idiot."

I then realized a few seconds later that I, the fucking spastic idiot, forgot to check to see if I had received an email from Brian, since that was the way we had communicated in the past. I nearly broke my neck tripping over a pile of dirty clothes on the floor as I ran to my desk chair to turn on my computer.

It turned out that Brian had not sent me any emails, thought I really wasn't expecting him to. I recalled the last conversation I had with him where he got pissed at me for nagging him about his drinking and drug use. I hoped that his anger had only stemmed from the chemicals in his system and that he wasn't still mad at me.

I sent Brian a to-the-point email asking if he had heard from the school board.

I paced around my bedroom for the next hour, the cordless phone in my hand as I willed it to ring, before I decided I could not wait anymore. I checked my email one more time, pouted when I saw that Brian had not replied, then put my shoes on and stomped down the stairs.

Mom was in the kitchen chopping up some raw chicken breast.

"Hey, Mom, can I borrow the car?"

"What for, honey? Dinner will be ready in an hour."

I said the first thing that popped in my head. "Emmett's car is on the fritz and he wanted to take me out to dinner tonight."

Mom turned and narrowed her eyes at me. "Emmett, huh?"

"Uh, yeah. You remember Emmett."

She chuckled. "Oh yeah, I remember Emmett... couldn't forget him if I tried."

"So, can I have the car?"

Mom sat the knife on the cutting board and sighed. "Justin... about this Emmett."

I put my hands on my hips, prepared to defend my fake boyfriend to the death. "What about him, Mother?"

Her mouth hung open for a few moments as she searched for what to say. "He's... I don't think he's right for you."

"Why not? You've only met him once and only for like, five seconds, so how would you even know?"

Mom made a creaking noise in her throat, clearly struggling with what to say next. "He's just... I mean, when you described him to me before, I never pictured... that."

"That what, Mom?" I asked, although I was more than aware of what she meant. I was sure that my mother never pictured her sweet, naïve gay son with a flamboyant fairy like Emmett Honeycutt.

I would have laughed, if I didn't have to continue with my charade.

"Look, I'm sure that Emmett is a very nice man," Mom said. "He must be, in order for you to want to spend your time with him."

"Yes, he is very nice," I said in a smart-ass tone.

"But honey-"

"As long as I'm happy, what should it matter?" I yelled, my eyes spontaneously welling up. "So what if he wears make up and colorful clothes? Can't you at least be happy that I'm happy? Would you rather I date a guy who looked like Brad Pitt but was a total asshole?"

I would date a guy who looked like Brad Pitt even if he liked skinning puppies in his spare time, but I was trying to make a point.

Mom looked down at the floor and sighed. "No, you're right, I'm sorry. It was wrong for me to judge the book by its cover."

I blinked my crocodile tears away before asking, "May I please borrow your car so I can take my boyfriend Emmett out on a date? I'll be home before nine."

Mom turned back to her dinner preparation, clearly ashamed of herself. "Yeah, my keys are in my purse. Be careful."

I felt like a total shit, but I grabbed Mom's keys and my coat before zooming out of the driveway.

I drove straight to Brian's loft and slowly circled the building, not seeing the Jeep parked anywhere. Undeterred, I parked across the street from the building and nearly screamed with joy when I discovered that the front door was unlocked.

The elevator was not waiting at the landing and in spite of how sadly out of shape I was, I ran up the three flights of stairs, completely out of breath when I reached the top.

I knocked on Brian's door, which he did not answer. I knocked again several seconds later, even calling out his name once I could breathe again and form words.

He did not answer, so I boldly tried to pull the door open.

It was locked.

I waited for the elevator to take me back to the first floor, deciding then that I was going to drive up and down Liberty Avenue until I spotted the Jeep.

I cruised around the gayborhood for about ten minutes and found what I hoped was Brian's Jeep parked just down the street from Woody's. I had to park two blocks away and hustle my ass down the slick sidewalk to the bar.

I let out a sigh of relief when I found Brian sitting on a barstool at the main bar area, but frowned when I saw that he was there with Michael. Sitting with them were Ben, Ted, Emmett, and Lindsay.

I debating sneaking out before I was seen, but my fake boyfriend's voice cut through the air.

"Oh my stars and stripes! Get your hot little ass over here, cutie!" Emmett yelled.

I walked over to the group and gawkily waved. "Hey, everyone."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Michael snarled.

"Michael!" Lindsay scolded.

He ignored her. "Isn't it a school night, little boy?"

"Yeah," Brian confirmed before smiling at me and saying, "we both have school tomorrow."

I gasped and squealed, "You get to come back?"

Brian spread his arms victoriously. "I'm reinstated immediately."

I let out a girlish scream before running over to Brian, wrapping my arms around him and planting a kiss on his delicious lips for the first time in days.

"That's awesome!" I yelled.

Brian put a finger in his ear closest to me and wiggled his hand. "Yeah, it is."

Lindsay slid off of her barstool and said, "Well Brian, congratulations again, but I've got to get home to Mel and J.R."

"Give my little sweet pea a kiss for me," Michael said to Lindsay.

"I'm surprised the old ball and chain let you out at all," Brian mumbled, hugging Lindsay before she said her goodbyes and left.

I took Lindsay's empty stool, which was luckily between Brian and Emmett. I said the first thing that was on my mind.

"So... my best friend Daphne wants me to take her virginity," I announced to the group.

Brian choked on the sip of beer he had just taken.

"She wants you to fuck her?" Emmett asked as if he was making sure he heard me correctly.

I smiled and nodded.

"Gay men and straight girls sleeping together - isn't that one of the signs of the apocalypse?" Ted asked.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" Brian asked, although he was already well aware of my sexual history.

"Lots of times," I claimed. "When I was fourteen, I had sex with four girls at summer camp. When I was fifteen, I had an affair with my mom's best friend. When I was sixteen, I made it with Mrs. Elstead, my geometry teacher."

All the guys looked at me with surprised faces.

"No!" I yelled. "No!"

"You asshole!" Ted said.

Brian laughed. "Oh, trust me, Mrs. Elstead used to be quite a fox, but then she put on fifty pounds after she got married."

Emmett put his arm around my shoulders. "How do you even know you can even be with a woman? Do you even think you could get it up?"

"At his age, he could rub it against a tree and get a hard-on," Brian said.

Michael cut in and claimed that he had been with a woman back in high school... only after he gave her five bucks for a blow job because she charged everybody five bucks.

"I don't consider what straight people do in bed to be sex," Emmett said. "It's just not sex without something up your butt."

Blake, who I hadn't noticed was absent from our merry group, walked past us without stopping. Ted got up and ran after him.

Emmett leaned in and said into my ear, "Teddy thought Blake stole his wallet, but we found it between my couch cushions. Hopefully Blake will stick to his guns, not wanting to be with someone who would accuse him of being a thief, even if Teddy did have a good reason to think he was a thief."

Ted returned to finish his beer a minute later, a look of defeat on his face.

The guys soon decided that they were going to go to the diner for a bite. After everyone took care of their bar tabs and put on their coats, Brian pulled me aside.

"Come sit in the Jeep with me for a minute," he said.

"Brian," Michael brayed like an old donkey. "Come on. We're ready to eat."

"I'll meet you guys later," Brian said through gritted teeth as he pulled me to the door ahead of their group.

The two of us walked out to the Jeep where Brian promptly lit a cigarette. I lit one also and settled into the passenger seat, wishing he would turn the heater on.

"I'm so fucking happy you have your job back, Brian."

"I don't know what the final vote was, but at least five out of the nine had to vote to keep me."

"All nine of them should have voted to keep you," I said confidently. "It would have been a fucking disgrace if they had let you go."

Brian took a deep drag from his cigarette and nodded. "I have no idea why Hobbs would stick up for me the way he did. Of all people, you'd think he would be passing around a petition to have me canned."

I held back a smile, happier than a pig in shit that my plan had worked. "It's a mystery."

He looked at me blankly for several seconds. "Justin, now that I have my job back, I think it would be wise if we stopped seeing each other."

"Wait... what?" I asked, not wanting to believe that Brian had just said what I thought he just said.

He sighed and motioned between us with his hand. "This - it has to stop. I almost lost my job because..."

I waited for him to finish his sentence, but instead he just continued to smoke his cigarette.

"Because what?" I demanded after several seconds of silence.

"Because of you!" he finally yelled. "Because I let things get way out of control. You just kept pushing, and I let you worm your way into my life and my bed. I must have been out of my fucking mind to ever let it go this far. Yeah, we've had fun, but I need to stop letting my dick make my decisions and use my head for once. I even gave you a blow job on school property, for fuck's sake!"

I really didn't want to cry in front of him like a little girl, but I couldn't help it.

"What about what your heart is telling you?" I asked as fat tears spilled onto my cheeks.

He looked at me like he had never heard of such a concept. "Huh?"

"You can't sit here and tell me everything that's happened between us these past few weeks has been purely physical. We both know that you can fuck anyone you want on this street, but despite the fact that it could destroy your teaching career, you've repeatedly fucked around with me, minus the actual act of fucking."

Brian stubbed out his cigarette in the dashboard ashtray and stared at the steering wheel. "What can I say? I guess I'm a sucker for pretty little blonde twinks."

I scoffed. "Oh, give it up, Brian. You have feelings for me and more than just those in your pants."

He shook his head, unable to look me in the eye. "It doesn't matter how I feel about you, because it's not worth it to risk my career. Someone needs to be the adult here and that unfortunately has to be me, despite what an immature degenerate I pride myself to be in my personal life."

Deep down, I knew he was right. I had known since the day I decided to go to his father's funeral visitation that I was overstepping the teacher/student boundaries and it quickly escalated from there. True, he was the one that first kissed me, but I had shamelessly continued to tempt him to go further. Then again, he was supposed to be the adult and probably should have done something to stop the madness.

That's what I knew in my head. My heart, on the other hand, felt like it was literally ripping apart inside of my chest.

I discarded my cigarette and crossed my arms to keep from embarrassing myself by climbing onto his lap and crying on his shoulder.

"So are we just supposed go back to school tomorrow and pretend like these past few weeks never happened?" I asked. "That every hug, every kiss, every blow job-"

"Yes, that's exactly what we're going to do," Brian gruffly answered before I could continue listing all of our transgressions. "And I would appreciate it if you'd stay away from Liberty Avenue, especially Babylon."

"I still work at the diner," I pointed out.

"Well, if you see me there, treat me as you would as if I were any other customer. Don't call me, don't email me, don't show up at my loft, don't go around looking for me... just leave me the fuck alone, alright? If you want to be with someone so badly, maybe you should fuck Daphne. Hell, the two of you would make an adorable couple."

A new river of tears began pouring out. "That's not what I want! I want you! I love-"

"You can't have me!" he said, smacking his hands on the steering wheel for emphasis.

"What about after I graduate in May?" I asked pitifully, hoping that there was light at the end of this dark tunnel. "We won't have to hide anymore."

"Who knows we're we'll be then," he said to the steering wheel. "You'll be getting ready to go off to college and I'll be planning a trip to Europe that I intend to take this summer. In the meantime, I don't need any distractions."

Brian then reached over me and pushed opened the passenger door. "Now, go do your homework."

I took a tear-choked breath before getting out of the Jeep.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Kinney," I said before slamming the door closed.

********************

It took every ounce of strength I had to get up, get dressed, and get my ass off to school the next morning. I would have stayed home, but I knew I could not miss any more days and still keep my grades up after my suspension. Daphne knew that I was upset about something during the ride to school, but I told her that I had been suffering from a headache all night and didn't get much sleep.

In reality, I didn't get a wink of sleep after I had somehow managed to drive myself back home without crashing the car. Knowing that sleep was going to be impossible and wanting to prolong my emotional suffering for whatever reason, I stayed up watching Titanic, The Lion King, and Ghost, movies that never failed to turn me into a sobbing mess.

I had to excuse myself during my Calculus class, which was right before Brian's Creative Writing class, to dry-heave in the bathroom. Just knowing I had to see him the next class period was making me a nervous wreck.

I dragged myself to Brian's class after Calculus was over, where I found him standing at his usual post outside the door during the passing period. He immediately locked eyes with me as I made my way to his classroom.

Of course the asshole looked like he should be on the cover of GQ with his designer suit, perfect hair, and body like a Greek god. I didn't know whether I wanted to strangle him or drop to my knees to suck his dick right there in the hallway.

"Hello, Mr. Taylor," he said to me, a slight smile on his gorgeous face.

"Mr. Kinney," I replied. "Welcome back."

His smile widened. "I'm glad to be back."

I walked into the room and took my seat next to Daphne.

"Mr. Kinney's back," she said as if I hadn't just walked right past him two seconds before.

"Couldn't miss him," I answered dryly.

Daphne gave me a curious look. "I thought you'd be thrilled, since you were nearly shitting your pants yesterday over whether he'd be allowed back at school."

Luckily, the bell rang before I had to come up with a response to her inquiry. Brian closed the door behind him.

"Good morning, everyone," he called out as he walked over to his desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Kinney," my fellow classmates replied.

I refrained from joining in the greeting and busied myself in flipping through my textbook.

"First of all," Brian began, "I must apologize for my absence these past several days. Some of you may be aware of what transpired last week before Thanksgiving Break occurred, but we're not going to talk about that. We have a lot of work to do before the semester ends, which is only three and a half weeks away, and we don't need any distractions."

I looked up and saw that his dreamy hazel eyes were on me. He quickly looked away after I caught him.

Don't need any distractions - that was exactly what he had said when he dumped my sorry ass the previous evening. That's all I was to him, a distraction.

I somehow made it through the class period without producing any tears or vomit. I even managed to eat half a cheeseburger and a couple of potato wedges during lunch, despite Brian being in the cafeteria with me during his monitoring duty.

Daphne noticed that I was picking over my food.

"Jesus," she said, knowing what a voracious appetite I normally had. "Are you getting the flu or something?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm just worried that I'm not going to be able to catch up with all of my assignments."

"I brought some of them to you while you were gone and even turned some back into your teachers," she reminded me. "Plus, you were given time extensions on some stuff. You'll be fine."

"I know, I just..."

I paused and looked up, the overwhelming feeling that I was being watched forcing me to investigate. Sure enough, Brian and Lindsay were both staring at me. I was sure by then that Brian must have told Lindsay that he broke things off with me, though I could not judge by the look on her face how she felt about it.

I would bet that he had told the whole gang at the diner after I took off. I could imagine Michael dancing in the street with joy.

"Did anyone else watch That 70's Show last night?" September asked.

"Yes, it was so good!" Daphne answered, distracting me with a discussion of what had happened during the episode that I missed.

I had to see Brian again during his English Literature class later that afternoon. Hobbs was also there and gave me a nod as he walked by me on the way to his desk in the back of the room.

At least I didn't have to worry about him anymore.

Once class began, Brian repeated his little apology and the "we don't need any distractions" bit. That time, I turned and looked back at Hobbs who was hanging his head in what appeared to be shame.

After taking attendance, Brian started a discussion of Act IV of Hamlet. I tried to follow along, but my lack of sleep caused me to slowly begin to sink down in my chair and lay my head on my desk. I soon drifted off to sleep.

"Mr. Taylor!" Brian suddenly called out, waking me up from my slumber.

I raised my head and slurped some drool back into my mouth. "Yes, Mr. Kinney?"

"Are we breaking into your naptime?" he asked me in scathing tone.

 I heard a few giggles throughout the room.

"As a matter of fact, yes, you are," I answered groggily.

Brian looked surprised by my response. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, so if you'll excuse me," I said before putting my head back down and closing my eyes.

There were more giggles, hoots, and amused exclamations from my classmates.

I heard some shuffling at the front of the room, followed by Brian's dress shoes clacking on the floor as he approached me.

He slapped his hand on my desk in front of my face, causing me to nearly jump to the ceiling. I saw that there was a slip of paper under his hand.

"Go to the office," Brian ordered before turning on his heel and walking back to his desk.

I looked at the paper and discovered that it was an office referral, of which I had never before received in my entire academic career. Brian had checked the box next to "defiance" as the reason for the write-up and recommended "verbal warning" as punishment.

I got up and walked towards the door, glancing at Brian over my shoulder.

"Farewell, fair cruelty," I said, quoting Viola from Twelfth Night before I left.

The school counselor was not happy to see me since she knew I had just been suspended for fighting. She told me not to be rude to Mr. Kinney or any other instructor ever again and recommended that I spend the rest of the class period writing a letter of apology to him.

I sat down on a chair outside of the counselor's office and pulled out a spiral notebook.

I wrote:

(Not-So) Dearest Brian Fucking Kinney,

The counselor said I should write you a letter of apology, so here we go.

I'm sorry you're such an asshole. No, actually I'm NOT sorry... because it's ALL your fault! I fell asleep in your class because I was too busy crying my fucking eyes out last night over YOU to sleep.

(No Longer) Yours,

Justin

P.S.: Kiss my ass, go fuck yourself, and go to Hell, you fucking piece of shit!!

I read my juvenile words over and chuckled to myself. I could be an immature degenerate, too.

Figuring I ought to write a serious apology, I flipped to another blank page and wrote a second letter:

Dear Mr. Kinney,

I apologize for falling asleep during your class today and being disrespectful afterwards. I did not sleep very well last night, but I should not have dozed off on your time. I will not let anything like this happen again. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to remedy this unfortunate incident.

Sincerely,

Justin Taylor

Reading the letter a second time made me feel like I was going to hurl again, but I figured that it was much more appropriate than my previous letter. I hoped that dear Mr. Kinney got instant diabetes after reading my sugary-sweet words.

I debated for a minute which letter I should give to him before looking at my watch and seeing that the class period was almost over. I tore both pages out of the notebook and folded them separately. I wrote Brian on the outside of the letter to Brian Fucking Kinney and Mr. Kinney on the other one. I got an envelope from the office secretary and stuffed both letters inside, leaving the outside of the envelope blank.

After the bell rang, I walked back to Brian's classroom and found him standing outside the door once again. I handed the envelope to him without saying a word. His long fingers grazed over mine as he took it from me.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully until after the last bell rang when I met Daphne at her locker. While I was waiting for her to finish loading up her backpack, Brian walked past me and silently dropped a folded piece of paper at my feet. I quickly bent down, picked the paper up, and stuck it in my coat pocket.

"Hey, I need to use the restroom before we go," I said to Daphne.

"We'll be home in like, five minutes," she said as she continued to rifle through her locker. "Where is my fucking-"

"I'll be right back," I said before practically sprinting to the men's room down the hall and into an empty stall to read Brian's letter.

Dear Mr. Taylor,

I greatly appreciate and accept your apology. It is unlike you to be anything but attentive and respectful in class, so I do not foresee an incident like this to happen again. I hope you are able to get a better night's sleep tonight so you may join in our discussion of Hamlet with your usual enthusiasm tomorrow.

I assigned the five questions on page 386 in our textbook to be turned in tomorrow at the beginning of class. Please be sure that your answers are in complete sentences.

Sincerely,

Mr. Kinney

I turned the letter over and made sure that there were no more pages. Indeed, it was only one page and only included a response from "Mr. Kinney."

Not a word from "Brian Fucking Kinney."

That fucking asshole.

After reading through it two more times to be sure there were no hidden messages or meanings, I put the letter back in my pocket and stomped back down the hallway to meet Daphne.

"Damn, did you have to take a shit or something?" she asked as we made our way to the exit.

"No," I answered curtly.

Once we were in Daphne's car and had our seatbelts fastened I asked her, "Daph, do you remember the conversation we had yesterday?"

She froze with her keys in her hand. "Uh, yeah."

"I think we should do it... today."

Daphne and I stopped by a drug store to pick up some condoms before going to my house. I knew that Mom was going to be at the community center organizing the annual Christmas parade until dinner time and Molly would be at Dad's for the evening, so we would have absolute privacy for a couple of hours.

We went up to my bedroom and I flinched when Daphne closed the door, suddenly feeling as if I were trapped.

"How long do you think this is going to take?" she asked.

I shrugged, having no idea how long it usually took for heteros to fuck. "I don't know... about an hour?"

"Because I have to be home before five," she said, luckily looking just as nervous as I was. "Should we get undressed?"

"I guess so," I answered before taking off my school blazer.

She took off her own blazer and we each continued to slowly remove our clothes and drop them on the floor. Once we were down to our unmentionables, I pulled the covers aside and we sat down on my queen sized bed.

I reached over and ran my index finger under one of her pink bra straps.

"Can I leave this on?" Daphne asked, her voice quivering slightly.

"Uh, yeah, if that will make you feel more comfortable," I said, relieved that I wouldn't have to see her bare tits.

She smiled in gratitude before leaning in and kissing me.

We made out for a bit while we laid ourselves down in my bed. It was a bit chilly in the room, so I pulled the sheet and blanket over us.

I soon found myself lying on top of Daphne, nestled between her legs. She rubbed her soft feet on the backs of my thighs as we continued to kiss.

She was actually a pretty good kisser, better than I remembered when we had last drunkenly made out a year or so before.

Not nearly as good as Brian, though.

I pulled away from her as memories of all the glorious kisses I had shared with that bastard crashed through my brain like a tidal wave.

"Are you okay?" Daphne asked, staring up at me with her big brown eyes.

I nodded and resumed kissing her, using all the tricks that Brian had taught me.

I had to remind myself: This is Daphne, God dammit, not Brian... not Brian. Brian doesn't want you anymore. You might not ever get to kiss him or do anything else with him ever again. Hell, maybe you'll even like this. Probably not enough to ever want to do it again, but still.

I rutted my completely flaccid, underwear-covered cock against her panty-covered lady bits, willing my little buddy to cooperate.

At his age, he could rub it against a tree and get a hard-on.

I recalled Brian saying that the previous evening at Woody's. As it turned out, he was very, very wrong.

It didn't take long for Daphne to notice that I was having technical difficulties.

"Um... do you need some help?" she asked.

I closed my eyes and nodded regretfully.

We repositioned ourselves so that I was on my back and Daphne was straddling me.

"Just relax, babe," she said before she started peppering kisses on my face, neck, and chest.

Daphne continued to trail her lips down my body, her tongue joining in the journey. She pulled my boxer briefs down and wrapped her hand around my dick, encouraging it to get with the program.

Although I had desperately tried to block out all memories of Mr. Fucking Kinney moments before, I resigned myself to the fact that the only way I was going to be able to get through this was if I did think about him.

I closed my eyes and remembered the last night I had spent with him, which had been exactly one week prior on the night before Thanksgiving. It felt like it had been much longer than that.

We had stayed awake until dawn kissing, fondling, licking, and sucking. He had made me cum five times, once without even having to touch my cock as he rimmed me. It had been the greatest night of my life and we didn't even actually fuck. Knowing I still had that to look forward to, hopefully with Brian, made me feel optimistic for the future of my sex life.

I could almost smell Brian as I thought about him, the musky aroma of manliness that emanated from his pores combined with his expensive French shampoo and soap, Gucci cologne, and cigarettes. I had never really enjoyed the smell of male body odor until I first gotten a whiff of Brian's pits and crotch. I could almost cum by just smelling him.

"There you go," Daphne said, interrupting my walk down memory lane as she continued to stroke my dick. "You're actually bigger than I thought you would be."

I looked down and saw that I had a raging hard-on, all because of Brian Fucking Kinney and his man stench.

"Thanks," I said, as if I had anything to do with the size of my cock.

Satisfied with herself, Daphne got up to open the box of condoms that were waiting for us on my nightstand.

I put my head back on my pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

Seriously, why in the fuck did I agree to do this? Did I honestly think that I, a nelly cock-sucking queer, could actually engage in sexual intercourse with a female, no matter how beautiful she was? Reese Witherspoon probably couldn't even get me hard without me having to imagine that I was fucking her husband instead.

Daphne climbed back into bed and handed me the condom.

"Maybe you should put this on," she said, her nervousness beginning to return.

I pulled my underwear the rest of the way off and tore the condom wrapper open. My dick had already wilted back down to half a wood.

"Shit... I'll be right back," I snarled before getting out of bed and stomping to the bathroom.

I slammed the door closed and sat the condom down on the counter.

"Alright," I said, looking down at my sad excuse for a penis. "You can do this. We can do this. It's just sex. People do it every day. Hell, there are probably straight people fucking right now somewhere in the world. There's probably at least one couple in Pittsburgh going at it at this very moment. It's natural, like breathing. You can last long enough to get through this."

I looked up and stared at my reflection in the mirror, almost disgusted with what I saw.

My blue eyes were bloodshot and puffy, although I was glad to see that the Hobbs-produced bruise around my left eye was nearly gone. My skin looked even paler than usual and I had a pimple starting to grow on my chin. I had forgone shaving that morning and although I could usually get away with skipping a day or two, the stubble seemed to age me by a few years.

Shit, was that a wrinkle on my forehead? Maybe I needed to start using my mom's anti-wrinkle cream that she paid a small fortune for.

The inspection of my face was cut short when Daphne knocked on the door.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute!"

"We don't have to do this, Justin."

"No... no, I want to," I lied.

"No, you don't," she said sadly. "You can't even keep an erection."

"Yes, I can!" I yelled, feeling then like my manhood was at stake and that I had something to prove to her, myself, and the world. "Just get back in bed and get ready."

"Okay," Daphne said uneasily.

I then recalled that there had been an underwear ad in a magazine we had in the bathroom, so I quickly thumbed through one of them and found it. I didn't know who the model was, but he was sexy and wearing nothing but a pair of white briefs. I was sure his very large package was enhanced with a sock or something, but I didn't give a damn at the moment.

I jerked my cock to that picture until right before I was about to come, then I quickly rolled the condom on and stalked back to my bedroom like a tiger on the prowl.

"Alright, let's do this," I said as I settled back between Daphne's legs.

She giggled uneasily as she looked down at what I was about to give her. "Uh... just go slow, okay?"

I knew that my erection was very tentative, but nodded in understanding. "I'll try."

We resumed kissing again as I got myself into position to enter her. She had taken her panties off, but I didn't want to touch her down there with anything that wasn't covered in a condom.

"Put it in a little bit at a time," Daphne instructed.

"Okay," I said, already feeling my cock softening at the prospect of being inside of her even a little bit. The fact that she smelled like baby powder, which is probably the unsexiest fragrance on the planet, didn't help at all.

The more I tried to put it in, the softer my dick became. It was like trying to stuff a wet piece of gum into a keyhole.

I sighed heavily and collapsed on top of her, not even caring at the moment if I was cutting off her air.

"Fuck!" I yelled into the pillow under her head.

Daphne put each of her hands on my back and patted me. "Well, I guess we're done here."

I turned my head and whispered into her ear, "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. You can get off of me now."

I rolled off and turned my back to her, not bearing to see the disappointment on her face. I hoped that she would get up, get dressed, and get the hell out of there, but instead she spooned behind me.

"It's okay," she repeated as she held me.

I took several deep breaths, willing myself to remain calm, but tears were soon streaming out of my eyes.

Daphne lifted her head a moment later to look over at me. "Are you crying?"

"No," I choked out.

"Justin, it's not that big of a deal," she assured me. "You're gay... it's understandable that pussy turns you off."

"That's not why I'm crying!" I yelled.

"Okay, then what is it?" she asked as she sat up.

I rolled over onto my back and decided that it was time to finally tell her the whole ugly story. I could no longer live with the truth by myself.

"It's Brian," I said.

She tilted her head. "Brian who?"

"Brian Kinney. You know, Mr. Kinney, our teacher? I've been lying to you, Daph."

She waited for me to continue, a look of confusion on her pretty face.

I sat up and dried my face with the sheet. "I haven't been dating Emmett. I've been dating Brian Kinney."

"You..." Daphne said, slowly beginning to back away from me. "Hold on, what?"

Daphne got up and put her panties back on, and I looked away so I wouldn't have to see her naked lower half.

"Brian and I have been seeing each other, but he broke up with me last night."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "You've been fucking our English teacher?"

"No! I told you I was still a virgin and I wasn't lying about that. We have messed around though, but we haven't fucked."

"Justin!" Daphne yelled. "He's our teacher!"

"I know!" I said before hanging my head shamefully. "I'm in love with him, but he doesn't want me anymore. He said that now that he's back from his suspension, it's not worth it to keep seeing me and have his job threatened again."

She sat back down but kept her distance from me. "How long has this been going on?"

"Remember when Brian missed a few days of school earlier in the month? His father had died, and I skipped school on the day of the funeral and rode the bus out to the cemetery. We had our first kiss later that afternoon when he drove me home. It moved pretty quickly from there."

"He kissed you on the day of his father's funeral?" Daphne asked, obviously grossed out by the thought.

"I was surprised, too. I don't even know why I went."

I decided to start from the very beginning, telling Daphne about my discovery of Brian fucking a guy in the backroom the night she and I went to Babylon together, how I had pretty much started stalking Brian after Jack's funeral, and when Brian had finally given into his desire for me the night I had taken E and puked on him.

As I continued to talk, Daphne became more intrigued with my dirty little adventures.

"Shut up. He actually gave you a blow job at school?" she asked, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"It was all his idea, too. It was so fucking hot. The danger of being caught made it even better."

"So, how big is his...?" she asked, looking mighty curious.

"Oh, he's enormous. Like, nine inches hard and very thick."

"Ouch," she said before bursting out laughing. "I was worried that you would be too big, but he would rip me to shreds!"

"Hey, I almost had that thing up my ass. Imagine having to give him a blow job!"

We laughed for a bit before she asked me, "So, why didn't you guys fuck? I mean, you did everything else."

"He said it was so he could claim ‘plausible deniability,' as if not fucking me would be his saving grace. I never understood it."

"Maybe that was his one way of keeping a feeling of control," Daphne guessed.

"Maybe," I said.

"Do you think he loves you?"

I raked my fingers through my hair. "Sometimes I think he might, but after how he dropped me like a bad habit, I don't know now."

We had to cut the conversation short when we heard Mom come through the front door. We quickly hopped up and got dressed.

"Daphne, promise me you won't tell anyone about this," I whispered to her.

"Of course, I won't."

"Seriously, if anyone found out, or if Brian found out that I told you-"

"Justin, I swear on our friendship that I won't tell a living soul," she assured me.

I gave her a hug just as my mother walked in front of my open doorway.

"Aww, what's this about?" Mom asked us.

I hugged Daphne tighter. "I just love my best friend."

Once Daphne had gone home and I wolfed down half of the pizza that Mom ordered the two of us for dinner, I had just enough left in the tank to do my assignment for English Lit before passing out from sheer exhaustion.

I woke up the next morning feeling well rested, but I still felt like hot garbage emotionally. I had hoped that telling Daphne about my relationship with Brian would have made me feel better, as if getting the weight off of my shoulders would help, but it didn't. It wasn't as if telling her would help me get any closer to getting him back.

At least, that's what I had thought before getting in Daphne's car that morning to go to school.

"So, I was up half the night thinking about you and Mr. Kinney," Daphne said without so much as a good morning.

I groaned. "Gross... please don't picture me and him while you're in bed."

"No, not like that," she said, swatting her hand in the air. "I was thinking about how you are going to get him back."

"He doesn't want me back," I said sadly.

"You don't know that. For all you know, he's been absolutely sick over letting you go."

"Doubtful," I said with a scoff. "He probably spent the evening on Liberty Avenue getting his dick sucked by at least half a dozen different guys. Besides, I'm surprised that you would want me to get him back, since he is a teacher and our relationship is completely taboo."

Daphne acted as if she hadn't heard me. "Do you think he'll give you a ride home after Book Club today?"

I looked at her like she was nuts. "Yeah fucking right. It's probably against school policy for teachers to give rides to their students, and if it's against policy, Brian probably won't do it."

"What if you asked him nicely? I mean, it was really shitty of him to dump you, but I've always thought that Mr. Kinney was a nice man."

I laughed dryly. "Brian is not nice. You have no idea how big of a cold-blooded asshole he's capable of being, even when it's completely unwarranted."

We rode for a block in silence before I asked, "Daph?"

"Yeah?" she replied.

"We're okay, right? I mean, after the... thing yesterday?"

She reached over and patted my knee. "Yeah, we're fine."

"I'm sure you'll have much better luck with Glen Reeves, anyway."

"We'll see," she said as she pulled into the school parking lot.

We went our separate ways at the front hallway inside, bumping shoulders in solidarity before we parted.

I walked towards Brian's classroom for Creative Writing later that morning and found Daphne talking to Brian out in the hallway.

"Oh, hey Justin," Daphne said as if it were the first time she had seen me that day. "I was just telling Mr. Kinney how it's so unfortunate that you'll have to walk home in the cold after your Book Club meeting today."

I looked at Brian, who narrowed his eyes at me for a moment before looking back at Daphne.

"According to the weatherman, the wind chill is going to be below freezing all day," she informed me.

"The weatherman said that, did he?" I asked my mischievous best friend.

"Yes indeed," she confirmed. "And I remember you telling me how Mr. Kinney gave you a ride home from Book Club once before, so I took it upon myself to ask him if he wouldn't mind giving you a ride home this evening."

It was my turn to narrow my eyes. "You did, did you?"

"Yes indeed," Brian said.

Daphne continued, "I would come back here to pick you up myself, but I promised my mom that I would help her put our Christmas tree up this evening. Plus, I know that your mom is busy with organizing the Christmas parade and won't be able to pick you up, either. So what do you say, Mr. Kinney? You won't force Justin to freeze his tushy off while he walks home later, will you?"

The bell rang, signaling that class was to begin.

Brian smiled at Daphne, though it was obviously not genuine. "No, I wouldn't want Mr. Taylor to freeze his anything off."

"Then you'll take Justin home tonight?" Daphne asked, although she was looking directly at me with a big shit-eating grin on her face.

Exactly which home she was referring to, his or mine, was left in the air.

Brian fake-smiled at me, his face looking as if it were about to crack open. "Sure, I'd be happy to take him home tonight. Now, let's get to class, shall we?"

The three of us went into the classroom, and Daphne and I took our usual seats.

"I'm gonna kill you," I whispered to her as Brian did roll call.

She winked at me and whispered back, "You're welcome."

Brian did not call on me at all to answer any questions during class, which was unusual but not surprising given the current state of affairs. Our topic for the day was adjectives.

"Miss Chanders?" Brian called out.

"Yes, Mr. Kinney?" Daphne replied, her cheesy smile still glued on her face.

"Could you please give me another word for annoyed?"

"Um..." Daphne made a show of tapping her pen on her chin as she searched her mind. "Aggravated?"

"Aggravated," Brian repeated. "Good word. How about another synonym for annoyed?"

"Irate?" Daphne offered.

"Yes, irate is a good one, too," Brian said, his eyes sliding over to me. "Now, Miss Chanders, would you say that ‘annoyed,' ‘aggravated,' and ‘irate' are positive adjectives?"

Daphne shook her head. "No, they're all negative."

"Cantankerous," I said.

"What was that?" Brian asked, looking rather annoyed with me for speaking up without being given permission.

"Another synonym for annoyed,'' I explained. "Petulant... crotchety... grumpy..."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Thesaurus," Brian said.

I flashed him a fake smile of my own. "You're very welcome, sir."

Daphne snorted and coughed to cover it up. "Pardon me."

The rest of the class period passed without incident. The bell rang at the end and Brian stopped me before I could leave the room.

"Mr. Taylor, may I please speak with you?" he said.

Daphne looked at me slyly before she left to go to lunch. "See ya, Justin."

Brian waited for the rest of my classmates to depart before he closed the door, leaving the two of us alone.

He turned and snarled at me, "What the fuck did you tell her?"

I feigned ignorance and abhorrence for his colorful language, even placing a hand over my heart. "Whatever do you mean, Mr. Kinney?"

Brian suddenly grabbed me by the front of my blazer with both hands and shoved me into the wall.

"I mean, what the fuck did you tell Daphne about us?" he hissed into my ear.

Jesus Christ, was he ever sexier than when he was angry. I honestly had never felt more turned on by his show of masculinity and aggression. I knew that he had to feel my erection poking into his hip.

"I assure you, sir, that I have no idea what you are talking about," I said, injecting my voice with bogus fear for him, as if we were performing a scene. "Now, would you please release me?"

Ugh, he smelled so fucking good....

Brian held me in place for a few more seconds before complying with my request.

"Alright, you little shit," he said as he quickly smoothed my blazer with his hands. "If that's the way you want to play."

I slowly licked my lips. "Oh, I love to play, Mr. Kinney."

Brian let out a low growl deep in his chest before opening the door and waving his arm for me to proceed through. "I believe it's your lunch time, Mr. Taylor. It's beef and noodle day, if I'm not mistaken."

"Indeed, it is," I said as I passed by him.

"Don't push me, ‘cause I'm close to the edge," I sang out into the empty hallway, knowing that Brian could hear me. "I'm trying not to lose my head, ha-ha-ha-ha*."

I brought my tray of beef and noodles to our lunch table a bit later.

"What happened?" Daphne asked me anxiously.

I stabbed at my food and shoved my loaded fork into my mouth, ignoring her question.

"What did he say?" she prodded.

"What did who say about what?" September asked, forever feeling left out of my and Daphne's conversations.

Daphne took my cue of stuffing her mouth with beef and noodles to avoid answering.

I found Brian a minute later performing his cafeteria monitoring duty, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. He looked absolutely petulant, crotchety, and grumpy.

Brian tried to ignore me later that day in English Lit, but I was like a fly in his ear. As he tried to make his way through the end of Act IV of Hamlet**, I repeatedly raised my hand with a question.

"Yes, Mr. Taylor?" he asked for the fourth or fifth time.

"Mr. Kinney, do you really think that Polonius was actually being eaten by worms or was Hamlet just being facetious?"

Brian sighed. "That's up to your own personal interpretation of what happens after we die, Mr. Taylor."

I raised my hand again.

"Yes?" Brian said, his voice heavy with the word of the day - annoyance.

"What do you think happens after we die, Mr. Kinney?" I asked.

He flashed me another one of his fake smiles. "I don't believe that is an appropriate topic for this particular setting. Now, may we continue with Hamlet, Mr. Taylor?"

"Yeah, Taylor, shut up already," I heard Hobbs grumble at the back of the room.

I looked back at Hobbs, flashing him a disapproving glare. He quickly sat back in his chair and snapped his mouth shut, remembering our little peace treaty.

I turned back and smiled at Brian. "Certainly, Mr. Kinney. I apologize to the class for being such a distraction," I said, intentionally emphasizing the last word of my sentence.

I left Brian alone for the rest of the class period, though he was obviously still perturbed - another synonym for annoyed - by our earlier exchanges. Once the bell rang at the end of class, I made sure that Brian hadn't forgotten about me.

"See you later for Book Club, Mr. Kinney," I called out as I made my way to the door.

He didn't even bother to fake a smile that time. "Uh-huh."

We were later discussing the first half of Lord of the Flies*** in Book Club. The discussion soon focused on how each of us thought we would do being stranded on a deserted island like the characters in the book had been.

One of the girls named Suzanne, who was known for being a big whore said, "As long as there was a cute guy there, I don't think it would be that bad."

Brian rolled in his lips. "What if that cute guy was unable to find food, shelter, or protect you from the wild animals around?"

Suzanne shrugged. "Eh, whatever. At least we would die together."

We all chuckled.

"What did it mean when the boys let the signal fire go out?" Brian asked us.

"At first," I began, "it was because the boys in charge of keeping the fire going were too irresponsible for the job, but it soon became apparent that some of them wanted to continue to live like savages on the island."

Brian almost looked disappointed that I was the first to speak up. "Was that because they lost hope of ever being rescued and just decided to make the best of it, or...?"

"They had adapted to their surroundings. The boys became what the island forced them to become and had to act like wild animals in order to survive. Some of them even thrived ... it was all very Freudian. Their minds became warped over time, almost similar to Stockholm Syndrome where a kidnapping victim starts to feel affection for their kidnapper as a way of coping with their situation."  

Brian's eyes were fixated on me, no doubt impressed with my brilliance before looking away and asking the group, "Have any of you ever felt that way before, where you had to become someone different than your normal self in order to fit in?"

Most of us answered in the affirmative, equating school with the island in the novel.

I thought about how much I had changed over the past few weeks since I had engrained myself into Brian's private life. I had become much more confident, brave, and proud of the man I was growing up to be, and I fucking loved it.

"Sometimes you have to act differently around certain people to fit in with them, maybe in ways that you never thought possible before," I said. "You may find, however, that you were never really acting at all... you were just becoming the person you really are."

Brian nodded slowly and licked his lips. "Alright everyone, I hope you enjoyed the first half of Lord of the Flies. Please read the next three chapters and we'll discuss them next Thursday."

The club members filtered out of the room, soon leaving me and Brian alone once again. The two of us silently gathered our belongings and put on our coats.

Once we were both ready, Brian announced, "It's time for me to take you home, Mr. Taylor."

Brian and I walked out of the school and to the Jeep in silence. It soon became obvious that he wasn't taking me to his loft or even to my house, but to the park where Brian first told me I could have a chance with him after I graduated. I didn't make any comments and instead listened to Steve Perry serenade us with Journey's magnum opus "Don't Stop Believin'."

The song was coming to an end as Brian came to a stop and put the Jeep in park, allowing the heater to continue running and the music to continue playing. I waited to see if he would say anything, since I didn't want my big mouth getting me into any more trouble with him that day.

Journey's Greatest Hits* album must have been in the CD player because "Wheel in the Sky" came on next. Brian stared straight out the windshield in lieu of speaking, so I decided to make small talk.

"My parents practically raised me on classic rock. My dad once said that I was probably conceived while ‘Stairway to Heaven' was playing in the background. One of their first dates was seeing Styx. My first concert was Bon Jovi when I was six. Hey, that sort of rhymes.... Styx, six."

I giggled uncomfortably.

Brian finally turned to look at me but didn't say anything. Instead, he unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me over onto his lap as if I were a rag doll.

Before I knew it, Brian and I were engaged in an intense game of tonsil hockey. He had his right arm wrapped tightly around my torso and his left hand clasped behind my neck as if he feared I would disappear if he let me go for even a second.

We continued going at it all throughout "Faithfully" and "I'll Be Alright Without You." The only time his lips weren't on mine was when he was licking and sucking on my neck, which he knew drove me crazy.

Brian suddenly pulled away during the first verse of "Any Way You Want It," which I admit isn't a very good make out song. We then breathed heavily into each other faces for several seconds before he said, "I have a lot of work to catch up on."

I took that as a cue to get back into the passenger seat and I did so without protesting, wishing to myself that whomever had organized that compilation had put another slow song in there for us to continue our glorious snogging session. "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'" would have been good and "Open Arms" would have been perfectly poetic.

Before we could leave the park, Brian had to turn the defrost up on high for a minute to defog the windows.

Brian stopped in the usual drop-off spot down the street from my house, again resuming his look silently out the windshield bit from before.

"Thanks for the ride," I said as I grabbed my backpack from the floorboard and opened the door to get out.

"No problem... later," he mumbled.

I stood on the sidewalk and watched the Jeep get farther away until Brian took a right turn out of the neighborhood.

"What the fuck...?" I whispered to myself as I started walking in the direction of my house.

I didn't even notice that I had walked past my house until I was knocking on the front door of Daphne's house down the block, despite the fact that I really should have gone home to change my pre-cum soaked underwear. Daphne answered and gasped when she saw me.

"Get in here!" she screamed as she grabbed my arm and dragged me upstairs to her room.

She made sure to shut her door before demanding, "Alright, what happened? Tell me everything."

"I... I'm not entirely sure," I said, still perplexed by what had occurred over the past twenty or so minutes.

"Well, did Mr. Kinney give you a ride home?" Daphne asked.

I nodded.

"What did he say?"

I shook my head.

"What do you mean...?" Daphne asked before mocking my head shake.

"Nothing. We went to the park and made out to roughly one-fifth of Journey's greatest hits in his Jeep."

Daphne's eyes bugged out. "And then what happened?"

"And then I came here."

She held out her hands in exasperation, clearly unsatisfied. "That's it? He didn't beg you to take him back or profess his love for you?"

I stretched out on Daphne's bed. "Nope."

She sighed and laid down beside me. "Alright, what do we do next?"

"I don't know, but I'm about ninety-nine percent sure he knows that you know about us after your little stunt today."

"Hmm," she said, not letting that information interrupt her scheming. "Do you know what he does when he's not at work, like where he goes in his spare time?"

"He usually hangs out on Liberty Avenue with his friends. He often eats at the diner where I work, goes drinking at a bar called Woody's, goes to the gym several times a week, and he actually owns Babylon."

Daphne sat up and clapped her hands. "Holy shit, that's fucking perfect!"

"He banned me from ever going to Liberty Avenue again unless it's to work, and even then I'm not allowed to treat him any differently than all the other customers."

She obviously had selective hearing because she announced, "We'll go to Babylon tomorrow night."

"He'll throw us out," I said as I stared up at Daphne's poster of the Backstreet Boys taped on the ceiling, admiring AJ's bare chest and abs.

"And we'll find you a hot guy to dance with and Mr. Kinney will get really jealous," Daphne continued.

"No, he won't."

"There's no way he won't take you home with him," she concluded.

Despite my protests, we did indeed go to Babylon the following evening after a rather uneventful day at school, a Friday. Once again, Brian did not call on me during either of his classes, though we did eye-fuck each other thoroughly.

Daphne and I arrived at Babylon right as the doors opened at nine o'clock and stood shivering in line for about ten minutes before we made it to the entrance.

The doorman, who I recalled was named Bruce, unfortunately recognized me.

"I'm sorry kid, but I can't let you in," Bruce said in his rumbling bass.

Daphne, who was clearly not intimidated by the large gentleman dressed in head-to-toe leather, stepped up to him and asked, "Why the hell not?"

"Because my boss said so," Bruce informed her, crossing his arms over his massive chest.

"Well, how about you tell Mr. Kinney that Daphne Chanders is here and is requesting entry into his fine establishment," she said, crossing her arms sternly over her own chest.

"Daph!" I yelled.

A few guys in line behind us started screaming at us to get the fuck out of the way so they could get inside.

Bruce and Daphne stared each other down for several seconds before Bruce pulled a walkie-talkie off of his belt and said into it, "Paul, come and cover for me at the door for a minute."

A man slightly smaller than Bruce, whom I assumed was Paul, joined Bruce in the doorway a few moments later. Bruce told me and Daphne to step inside.

While we waited by the front podium, Bruce pulled out his cell phone and punched in some numbers.

"Hey boss, it's Bruce," he said into the phone after a few seconds. "There is a pretty young lady here named... what's your name again, sweetheart?"

"Daphne Chanders," Daphne said, enunciating each syllable.

Bruce continued, "Daphne Chanders with that little twink you said not to let in.... uh-huh... yeah... alright, hold on."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and informed Daphne, "Mr. Kinney said that the two of you need to leave immediately."

Daphne got nose-to-chest with Bruce and said loud enough for Brian to hear through the phone, "You can tell Mr. Kinney that he can come down here himself and tell us to leave."

Bruce put the phone back up to his ear. "You hear that, boss?"

Bruce nodded his head as he listened to whatever Brian had to say about that. "Alright," he said before hanging up his phone. "Mr. Kinney said to let the two of you in, free of charge, and that he'll deal with you later."

Daphne raised her chin defiantly. "That's what I thought."

Bruce shook his head in exasperation, probably wondering just who the fuck this Daphne Chanders was to get such special treatment, and walked back to his post.

Daphne and I checked our coats before we hit the dance floor. ABBA's "Dancing Queen" was blaring over the sound system.

"He's gonna be so pissed," I yelled to Daphne as we shook our asses to the music.

"I got us in, didn't I?" she said before sticking her tongue out at me.

I presumed that the musical theme of the night was The Best of Disco because Daphne and I boogied to "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees, "Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer, and "Get Down Tonight" by KC and The Sunshine Band before Emmett found me.

"Baby!" he screamed before wrapping his arms around me.

I hugged him back before asking, "Do you remember my friend Daphne?"

"Oh yes," Emmett said, most likely also remembering the last conversation we had pertaining to her. "I certainly do."

"You're Justin's fake boyfriend, right?" Daphne asked, flashing me a smile.

Emmett cackled. "That would be me."

"Have you seen you-know-who yet?" I asked him, hoping that they hadn't come in together.

"Yep, he's up in his office breathing fire while he decides how to punish you," Emmett answered.

Holy shit...

The three of us danced to Peaches & Herb's "Shake Your Groove Thing" before Emmett decided that it was time to start drinking. Using his handy VIP status, he procured a tequila sunrise for Daphne, a Jack and Coke for me, and one of those girly Cosmos for himself.

Emmett escorted us over to an area of the club that I hadn't been to before where there was a seating area. It was blue-lit, much like the backroom, and quieter than the dance floor had been so people could talk if they wished. Mostly they just made out and dry-humped on the couches.

I tried to enjoy my drink but was worried about what Brian would do or say to me once he came to hunt me down. I was also worried for Daphne, but she didn't seem to have a care in the world as she sipped her cocktail and bopped her head to "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge.

"So, I'm guessing that you know all about our little cutie pie's verboten tryst with the English teacher?" Emmett asked Daphne.

"Ever the wordsmith," I said to Emmett.

"Why do you think he's here tonight?" Daphne said. "I'm helping him get his man back."

I finally posed the question I had wanted to ask Daphne for the past thirty-six hours. "Why are you trying to help me get back with Brian?"

She looked at me like I was a moron. "Because I want you to be happy and you're obviously miserable without him."

"The two of you are so perfect together... the star-crossed lovers aspect just makes it even better," Emmett added. "Don't let him lie: he's fucking crazy about you and has been miserable without you, too."

"Really?" I asked, involuntarily breaking into a huge smile and blushing.

Emmett took a sip of his Cosmo and nodded. "He'll never admit it, but it's true. We went to the gym yesterday evening and he was a total beast. He took a sixty minute spin class, which he never does, and then lifted weights for like thirty minutes, grunting and stomping around like a wild animal. I spotted him on the bench press and he was up a good forty pounds from his regular weight. I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel or two. When I asked him if he was upset about you, he screamed in my face ‘Fuck you, Honeycutt' before he went to do some bicep curls. Michael thinks that Brian is just stressed about work, but he can't fool me."

This beastly episode would have taken place just after our little make out session in the park. Once I had gotten home from Daphne's that same evening, I was briefly animalistic as I abused myself in the shower and later again in my bedroom.

I was finishing the last little bit of my Jack and Coke when I heard a familiar voice ask behind me, "Can I buy you another one of those, Blondie?"

I jumped and nearly spit my drink out as I turned to see Brian, who looked like his usual drop dead gorgeous self in a tight black sweater and blue jeans.

He didn't wait to hear my response, instead turning to Daphne. "Good evening, Miss Chanders."

"Mr. Kinney," Daphne replied with a raise of her glass.

"Do you mind if I borrow your date for a little while?" he asked her.

She gave him a big smile. "He's all yours, sir."

"May I see you in my office, Mr. Taylor?" Brian asked, as if I had a choice.

I stood up on shaky legs. "If I don't come back, tell my mother I love her," I said to Daphne as I left to follow The Boss through the club and up the stairs.

Brian ordered me to sit on his black leather couch once we had gotten up to his office. Like a naughty puppy, I sat while Brian took a seat at his desk chair.

He filled (or most likely refilled) a tumbler on his desk with Old Grand-Dad 114 and tossed it back in one large gulp. He then licked his lips and said in a firm tone, "You just had to tell Daphne about us, didn't you?"

I opened and closed my mouth a few times. "Uh, is that a rhetorical question or should I answer?"

Brian scoffed. "Alright, go ahead."

"I didn't tell her until after you dumped me the other day. She won't tell anyone. Besides, all of your friends know about us, so I figured that it was okay for my friend to know, too," I said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but none of my friends are students at St. James Academy where I fucking work!"

"Oh, you mean the same St. James Academy where you sucked my dick in the boy's locker room?" I threw at him.

He cringed at the memory. "I don't know what the fuck I was thinking when I did that. If someone had walked in..."

I stood up and boldly began walking towards him. "You were thinking that it would be hotter than hell to do something so dangerous. You couldn't wait to taste me."

Brian looked at me as if he were a hungry lion about to pounce on a delicious young zebra who had wandered away from his pack.

"No matter how hard you try, you just can't deny this magnetic attraction between us," I said, now standing beside his desk. "Even though you know how poisonous our relationship could be to your career, you can't resist me."

I reached out and ran my index finger over his right middle finger where I knew he had the word RESIST tattooed. "What is the story behind your tattoo, anyway? I've always wanted to ask."

He shook his head and pulled his hand away.

Deciding not to press him any further on the meaning of his ink at that time, I sunk down to my knees and moved closer towards him. "Well, we both know that you want me. You can talk tough, telling everyone and yourself that you don't want me or even care about me, but we both know that it's bullshit."

I ran my hands up his thighs and unbuttoned his jeans. He let me unzip his fly before asking me, "What do you think you're doing, Mr. Taylor?"

I grabbed his waistband and forced myself not to smile as he lifted his hips to let me pull his pants down mid-thigh.

Ooh, he wasn't wearing any underwear.

"I think it's time for me to take an exam, Mr. Kinney. You're such an amazing teacher... let's see how well I can apply all I've learned from you so far. I've been doing my homework, too."

His dick was harder than a fucking rock, rip-roaring ready to be sucked. I grabbed his shaft and licked the bubble of pre-cum on the head, chuckling quietly as he sharply inhaled. Taking it a tiny bit at a time, I willed my throat to relax in preparation for showing him how much I had studied.

It turns out that deep-throating a monster dick like Brian's isn't too difficult as long as you have a dildo at home to practice on. I silently thanked Emmett for buying me my "Welcome to Queerdom Gift" as I took more and more of Brian's nine inches into my throat.

"Jesus, Sunshine," Brian groaned, obviously impressed by how much better I had gotten at suppressing my gag reflex since the last time I blew him.

Before I knew it, my nose was grazing Brian's pubes as I continued to worship his almighty cock. I probably could have kept up my task for a few more minutes but he soon lost it, groaning in ecstasy as he came down my throat.

Once he was done shaking and whimpering, I lifted my head and looked up at his ridiculously handsome face. His eyes were literally rolled back in his head for a few seconds before he focused on me.

"How'd I do, teacher?" I asked.

He took a few seconds to regain his composure. "You get an A+, Mr. Taylor."

I stood up and poured myself some of Brian's choice of drink for the evening. It was quite tasty.

"What am I going to do with you?" Brian asked as he pulled his pants back up.

I dared to ask, "Is that another rhetorical question?"

"I planned on bringing you up here and verbally tear you a new asshole, but now I just want to literally tear your asshole," he said, his eyes glazed in hunger for me.

Ouch.

I swallowed the rest of the bourbon in the glass.

Brian stood up and stared down at me. "Go back downstairs, find Daphne, and get the fuck out of my club."

The smile I didn't realize I was sporting disappeared. "What?"

"Are these... difficult... instructions?" he asked slowly, like he was speaking to an idiot.

"I... I thought..." I began to say.

"What, you thought you'd come here tonight, use your little fag hag to muscle your way through the door, grab my attention, and then use your charms to coerce me into taking you home and fucking that tight little virgin ass of yours?"

I tried not to look too guilty. "Well, yeah."

Brian shook his head in pity. "You're so cute, but so naïve. I have turned down more ass in the past year than you'll ever be offered, sonny boy, and none of those asses could possibly destroy my career if I were to fuck them. Sure, I would love to take you back to the loft and fuck you until the Steelers win the Super Bowl again, but it's not going to happen any time soon."

Speaking of football, I decided to throw a Hail Mary Pass. "What if one of those offers of ass was from Chris Hobbs?"

He tilted his head curiously.

I squared my shoulders and said, "Why do you think he vouched for you at your school board meeting, huh? Out of the kindness of his heart? Yeah fucking right. I caught him in the middle of a threesome in the backroom last Friday night right before the Big Dick Contest."

Brian sat back down in his chair and chuckled. "I knew that little punk had to be a fag."

"He freaked out and begged me not to tell anyone. I said that I would keep my mouth shut as long as he never came back here again, stopped treating me like a piece of shit, and did whatever he needed to do to help you get your suspension lifted."

"He could have just denied it, if you did tell anyone what you saw."

"No, because when he pointed that out to me, I told him that I knew the owner of this place and could get a copy of the security videos showing that he had been here. I said that I would upload still-shots from them to the internet and email the link to everyone in the student directory if he didn't do what I said."

"We don't have cameras installed here," Brian said.

"Hobbs didn't know that."

He looked impressed. "You blackmailed Chris Hobbs, a guy who could probably kill you with his bare hands?"

"Yeah," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "And I saved your ass. You're welcome."

With that, I walked out of the office and back downstairs.

I first contemplated finding Daphne and getting us the hell out of there but remembered that was exactly what Brian hoped I would do. No way was I going to let him win by chasing me out. I was also way too horny and there were way too many hot guys there for me to leave so early in the evening.  

I started dancing by myself to "Le Freak" by Chic. It took no time for a very sexy buff dude in a tight t-shirt that had The Big Easy printed on it to join me.

"Hey," he said to me.

I threw my arms around his shoulders and let him lead as we moved in time with the groovy beat.

The song wasn't even over yet before Big Easy invited me to the backroom. We passed by the twink I remembered as Todd, who was being taken from behind by a sexy buff dude of his own much like the last time I had seen him.

"Hey Todd, how's it going?" I asked, although I did not know him personally.

"Fine!" he called out.

Big Easy and I found an empty patch of wall and started kissing. I felt like such a filthy slut, seeing as I just had Brian's cock down my throat not ten minutes before and was still digesting his cum.

I didn't know what Big Easy had been planning on doing to me when we first walked into the backroom, but he soon made it obvious when he suddenly broke the kiss and spun me around to face the wall.

Oh shit.

I felt instant panic wash over me as Big Easy unbuttoned my cargo pants.

"Uh..." I croaked.

"Don't worry, baby," Big Easy crooned into my ear. "I have a condom."

That was the last thing I was worried about at the moment. I was not at all prepared or willing to lose my virginity in the orgy room at Babylon to a random guy whose name I didn't even know, no matter how angry I was at Brian.

I couldn't even remember why I was even angry at him as Big Easy pulled my pants and boxers down, exposing my bare ass to everyone who may have been watching.

I heard the tear of the condom wrapper, causing every muscle in my body to tighten up in fear of what was about to happen.

"Hey!" Big Easy suddenly yelled behind me.

I turned just in time to see Brian shove the guy away from me.

"Fuck off!" he roared at Big Easy, who scampered away with his pants around his knees.

Brian glared at me and said, "Alright, you proved your point, now pull your fucking pants back up."

Although I was incredibly grateful to Brian for literally saving my ass, I tried to act just the opposite. "Oh, so now no one's allowed to fuck me?"

Brian opened his mouth to say something, but instead shoved me against the sticky wall and fiercely kissed me as if he were reclaiming me after what had almost just happened with Big Easy. Defying another one of his orders, I had not pulled my pants back up. My hard cock was hanging proudly and Brian's hand soon found it.

We kissed for a few more seconds before he decided to return the favor I had given him earlier. Every fag in the backroom watched in awe as Brian Fucking Kinney, King of Liberty Avenue and owner of Babylon gave me, a skinny seventeen year old prep school twink a world-class blowjob. One of my fellow twinks even gave me a congratulatory fist pump.

I could have let Brian suck my dick until the Cubs won the World Series again but alas, I couldn't hold off my orgasm for that long. A loud groan which had escaped from deep within my chest as I came echoed off the walls, followed by the applause of the impressed onlookers.

While I caught my breath, Brian fixed my clothes for me. He gave me another long kiss before escorting me back out to the dance floor.

I was afraid that even after all of that, he was still going to throw me out of the club. Instead, we began dancing to "Celebration" by Kool & the Gang.

Yet another disco song came on afterwards, prompting me to ask Brian, "Is tonight Best of Disco night or something?"

"No, it'll switch over to the techno shit we usually play at midnight."

We danced and dry-humped for a few more songs before Daphne approached us.

"I'm going home," she said. "I need to start working on the two thousand word story about what we would do if we could be our favorite superhero for a day that one of our teachers assigned us."

"God, what an asshole that teacher must be," Brian said before turning to me. "I guess you'd better be getting home to work on that story, too."

My mouth dropped open. "You want me to leave?"

He grabbed my left wrist to look at my watch. "It is getting late, plus you're working the morning shift at the diner tomorrow, right?"

I looked at Daphne and back to Brian. "Uh, yeah. Deb expects me there at ten."

"You must always remember to prioritize, Mr. Taylor," Brian instructed. "Work needs to come before play."

"Let's get going, then," Daphne said, looking almost as upset as I was that Brian was sending me away.

Daphne and I were on our way home a few minutes later.

"I wish you hadn't come to say goodbye," I said, trying to hold back my anger and disappointment. "He almost definitely would have taken me home with him."

"I'm sorry... I didn't want you to worry about me. At least things seem better now between you and him. You were looking quite cozy together."

I spent the rest of our trip telling Daphne what had happened in Brian's office and the back room, and I was surprised she didn't crash the car while squealing over my naughty tales.

Before going to bed that night, I wrote a rough draft of my "Day in the Life of a Superhero" story for Brian's creative writing class. I chose to portray Batman's faithful sidekick Robin, titling the story Boy Wonder Saves the Shop.

It was a self-referential story about Batman and Robin's quest to find out who robbed a comic book store. The gay owner of the store, a very obvious depiction of Michael whom I named Ralph (which was of course a synonym of "puke"), was a total asshole who didn't take Batman and Robin seriously. Robin had a hunch that the crime was committed by an anti-gay group of thugs who hung out at a bar in the bad part of town. Batman and Robin go undercover and get invited to hang out with the thugs later that night at one of their homes. Robin sneaks into the basement and finds Ralph's stolen comic books and action figures. He calls the police, and he and Batman leave before the place gets raided. Ralph gets his property back and has no choice but to thank Batman and Robin for saving his shop. Peppered throughout the story is a lot of sexual tension and innuendo between Batman and Robin.

I knew that Robin was pretty lame as far as superheroes went, having no actual superpowers and not nearly as badass as Batman, but I chose him because I knew that Brian was a Batman fan and would see himself as Batman as he read my story. He would have no choice in fact, since my Batman was clearly Brian if he were a billionaire playboy who ran around as a masked vigilante detective in his spare time.

Boy Wonder Saves the Shop ended with Batman telling Robin that they must return to the Batcave to work on their next case, which would most likely take them "all...night... long" to solve.

Brian failed to show at the diner during my shift that Saturday, which really didn't surprise me. Avoidance was one of his main defense mechanisms, along with profanity and sarcasm. Michael and Ben, however, did come in around noon for lunch. I stayed as far away from them as I could, but I did catch Michael giving me the stink eye a few times from across the dining room.

I spent Saturday evening doing homework. Daphne had called around seven to see if I wanted to take another shot at Babylon, but I declined. I figured that the best course of action, at least for the time being, was to give Brian some space while he still seemed to have positive feelings towards me. No need to force myself down his throat (literally and figuratively) if it wasn't necessary.

We had a snowstorm that night resulting in nearly a foot of snow on the ground on Sunday morning. I was supposed to work at the diner again that day, but my mother refused to drive me or let me borrow her car with the weather being that poor. Debbie answered the phone at the diner and was very understanding when I told her I would not be in, saying that she was debating even keeping the place open that day. Although it wasn't due until Friday, I finished my Boy Wonder story. I was very pleased with it and hoped that Brian would be, too.

School was canceled that Monday because of the dangerous road conditions. I was all caught up with my homework, so I trekked through the snow over to Daphne's house where we had a Christmas movie marathon complete with A Christmas Story, Home Alone, Home Alone 2, The Santa Clause, and finally The Nightmare Before Christmasbefore calling it quits.

School was once again canceled the next day. I stayed in my room all day, going nearly out of my mind with boredom until I decided to read Brian's Step out of the Ordinary once again. Emmett had offered to let me borrow his copies of Brian's other three books, but I kept forgetting to get them from him. My mother was in charge of my bank account and always questioned me over my purchases, so I could not buy the other books online without her wanting to know what I had bought.

Yet another reason why I could hardly wait for my eighteenth birthday that Saturday...

Being the nerd that I was, I was happy when we were able to return to school the next day. That also meant I was able to see Brian for the first time since Babylon five days prior. I couldn't believe how much I had missed him.

It took all I could not to jump into his arms and cry all over his perfectly pressed dress shirt when I saw him standing out in the hallway that morning prior to his Creative Writing class.

"Good morning, Mr. Taylor," Brian said to me, a small smile on his beautiful face.

"Good morning, Mr. Kinney," I replied before quickly dodging past him to go into his classroom so as not to make a spectacle of myself. Before going to my desk, I placed my completed story square in the middle of his desk.

Daphne was already there and saw me turn in my story early.

"You fucking showoff," she grumbled to me.

After a discussion about theoretical linguistics during which Brian actually asked me a question about using syntax to improve your writing, he gave us the last fifteen minutes of the class period to work on our stories and let others proof read them if we wished. I noticed Brian pick up my story from his desk and I pretended not to watch him as he read it to himself. I was glad that he refrained from picking up his red pen to grade it before giving it a once over.

There were several times throughout his reading that Brian smiled at something he had found amusing. Twice he glanced up at me, causing me to quickly look away. He eventually straightened the pages once he was finished and sat them down, and then looked back up at me again. That time, I held his eyes and waited for his silent appraisal of my work. After several seconds of staring at his stony expression, he broke into a wide smile which I happily returned.

I was so relieved that he liked it I nearly pissed my pants.

I went over to Brian once class was over and everyone else had left. He was making a show of wiping off the chalk board and didn't look at me.

"So you liked it?" I asked.

He continued to meticulously clean the board as if it had held government secrets. "Yes... it was very cute."

I drew back in mild revulsion at his word choice. "Cute?"

"Yes, very cute," he repeated.

Before I could press him further, Lindsay appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, hello Justin," she said in surprise.

"Justin and I were discussing an assignment," Brian said to her, as if he owed her an explanation as to why I was still there after the bell had rung.

Lindsay glanced between me and Brian. "Okay... Brian, are you ready to head to the dining hall?"

"I'll meet you there in a few," he said.

She gave us each another look before turning to leave.

"Shut the door behind you, please," Brian told her.

Lindsay opened her mouth to say something to him, but thought otherwise and instead closed the door as he had requested.

I could swear that the temperature of the room raised a few degrees.

Brian nearly knocked me off my feet as he suddenly grabbed me behind my neck and hungrily kissed me. Being his usual dominant self, he shoved me into the chalkboard, my backpack cushioning the impact.

He broke the kiss several seconds later and growled, "Christ, look what you fucking do to me."

I wanted to make a boastful comeback about how he couldn't resist me, how much he wanted me, blah, blah, blah, but he cut me off with his lips before I could get a word in.

We stood there making out and grinding our crotches together for at least a solid minute as if we were back on the dance floor at Babylon before he abruptly realized where we actually were.

Brian took a step back, smacked the chalk board with both hands on each side of my head, and stalked out of the room without a backwards glance.

Holy shit, Batman!

I just about floated to the cafeteria and blatantly stared at Brian while I enjoyed some tuna casserole. His eyes met mine a few times, but he tried in vain to focus on his monitoring duty and whatever Lindsay was babbling about beside him. He was probably thinking about the next time he would be able to steal a moment with me or, most likely, when he'd get a chance to jerk off to relieve his blue balls. I was thinking about the latter option myself.

Later in Brian's English Lit class as we were finishing up our reading of Hamlet, he once again tried to deny my presence by ignoring me. He didn't call on me to read or answer any questions.

Daphne noticed how Brian had been avoiding me throughout the day and offered suggestions for how to get his attention as we rode home from school.

"Or maybe you can pretend like there's someone else you're interested in and he'll get really jealous," she offered.

"Like who?" I asked dryly, not wanting to even entertain the idea of wanting someone other than Brian, even if it was a ruse.

Daphne shrugged. "I don't know... George Glass?"

I laughed, knowing that she was referring to Jan's fake boyfriend in The Brady Bunch. "You want me to invent a guy? No, I think I'm just going to bide my time and let him grow to miss me. Eventually, he won't be able to turn me away anymore."

I refrained from telling Daphne about our classroom make out, which was proof that Brian not getting to see me for a few days had increased his need to ravish me.

More of the same happened the next day in school. Brian refused to acknowledge my presence in both of his classes and during lunch, and I didn't bother him. Since it was a Thursday, he had no choice but to see me that afternoon in Book Club.

The other club members must have been thrilled that Brian did not ask me anything about The Lord of the Flies, allowing the rest of them to engage in a discussion with our teacher. I admit that Brian and I often dominated our club meetings and didn't give the other members too many chances to participate in our conversations about the book we were reading at the time.

Once the hour was over and Brian adjourned our meeting, I grabbed my stuff and headed towards the door with the rest of the group.

"Justin," Brian called out. "Wait a minute."

I turned around and slowly walked over to him. Once we were alone I asked, "What, I'm not ‘Mr. Taylor' today?"

He gave me a stiff grin. "Slip of the tongue, I guess. Anyway, how are you getting home?"

"Daphne's coming back to pick me up."

Brian grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his desk chair. "Does she have a cell phone?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked, feigning ignorance of what I knew he was about to offer.

He pulled his own phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me. "Let her know you have alternate transportation."

I thought about it for a moment before holding his phone back out to him. "No thanks... I have a lot of homework to do," I lied. "Besides, she's probably already out in the parking lot waiting for me."

Brian's jaw dropped on its own volition. "Wha... are you serious?"

There was nothing I wanted more than to go with him. Hell, I would have gone anywhere with him as long as I got at least one kiss from him out of it, but I decided to see how far playing hard to get would take me.

"Sorry," I said, shrugging as if the decision was out of my hands.

Brian took his phone back. "Fine... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Taylor."

I gave him a smile before walking towards the door. Before I left, I glanced back at Brian and saw that he was watching me with his eyes glazed over, or as I now thought of it as his "horny lion glare."

Oh, Mr. Kinney... I've got your ass now.

There was a dramatic shift in Brian's treatment of me the day after I had rejected his offer of "alternate transportation" after our Book Club meeting. I didn't know what to expect from him, but I got a lot more than I bargained for.

It all started on that Friday morning when I made my way to Brian's classroom for Creative Writing.

"Good morning, Mr. Taylor," Brian said, sounding as cheerful as could be.

"Mr. Kinney," I responded.

He held out his arm in front of me, effectively preventing me from going into his classroom.

"Say, did you watch last night's new episode of Friends*?" he asked.

"No, I missed that one."

Brian clicked his tongue. "Oh, I guess you were too busy doing homework to watch it, huh?"

I smiled. "Yes, I was."

"Well, you missed a good one. Monica became obsessed with making Christmas candy for the neighbors around the building, because they all liked it so much. She so badly wanted them to like her, but it all went awry when the neighbors camped out in front of her apartment waiting for her to make more candy. Ross bought Phoebe her first bike after discovering that she never had one as a kid. Also, Rachel started dating her assistant and wrote him a very naughty performance evaluation, saying how cute his tushy was, and get this: their boss saw it."

Brian clapped his hands and cackled. "Oh, it was so funny."

I stared at him in awe. "Yeah... sounds hilarious."

The bell rang, breaking up our little chat.

"Shall we go to class, Mr. Taylor?" Brian asked.

I nodded slowly. "Sure."

After taking roll call, Brian collected everyone's "Day in the Life of a Superhero" stories. I, of course, had already turned mine in.

He put the stories on his desk before pulling something out of his briefcase. "Thank you, everyone, for your stories. I will be going out of town this weekend, but I hope to get these graded and back to you by next Friday."

Going out of town? Hmm...

"One of your fellow students, however, turned their story in to me early. I graded it yesterday evening, and I've got to say that it was a wonderful story."

I couldn't help but blush. Wonderful was certainly a much better adjective than cute.

"If you guys are wondering what an A+ creative writing story looks like, I'll go ahead and show you," Brian announced.

Then he actually read my Boy Wonder Saves the Shop story out loud to the entire class. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep my composure and pretend like it wasn't my story. I wanted to scream, cry, throw up, and run out of the room, but instead I just focused on inhaling and exhaling as Brian read my tale of Batman and Robin teaming up to recover stolen comic books and action figures from an anti-gay group of thugs.

A few of my classmates actually applauded after Brian finished, including Daphne who knew that it was my story.

"Now, if you didn't notice, the writer perfectly employed everything a creative writing story needs in order to be a successful, entertaining narrative," Brian explained. "This writer very quickly established who our protagonists were - in this case, Batman and Robin, putting him-or-herself in the shoes of Robin - and did a great job developing those two characters. The writer wasted very little time getting to the conflict of the story, establishing our antagonists, and coming up with a great way for our heroes to resolve the conflict. Finally, the writer ended the story with a satisfying conclusion. Aside from a few minor punctuation errors, it was a flawless story."

I stared at a scratch on my desktop. I felt Brian's hazel eyes burning into me and was afraid I'd burst into flames if I dared to look up at him.

One of my female classmates said, "It was a very... sexually explicit story, Mr. Kinney."

Daphne giggled quietly beside me.

Brian politely chuckled before saying, "Yes... but it wasn't inappropriately so. In fact, it was quiet appropriate for the characters the writer chose for this story. I must admit that I have been a big fan of the Batman comic books since I was a kid, and it's no secret that there have been rumors for many years that Batman and Robin have a homosexual relationship. Whether those rumors are true or not, I believe that this story was appropriate for the audience it was targeting - an advanced high school writing class filled with seventeen and eighteen year-old students. I think you guys are mature enough to handle the sexual innuendo included in this story."

"I loved it," Daphne said. "I can understand how some people may find it explicit, especially if they're uncomfortable with portrayals of same-sex relationships, but it doesn't bother me at all."

A few of the others piped up, giving their opinions.

"Well, I wish that we had time to debate this topic, but the snow days put us behind on our lesson plan and we have a lot to cover before finals," Brian said.

We then moved on to talking about active and passive voice. Brian called on me three separate times, giving me a sentence that used either active or passive voice and requesting I change it so it used the other type of voice.

I shot out of my chair as soon as the bell rang and practically sprinted towards the door.

"Mr. Taylor!" Brian bellowed before I could escape.

Daphne was beside me and whispered "oh shit" before walking out of the room.

I walked back over to Brian's desk. "Yes, Mr. Kinney?"

Brian held my story out to me after everyone had left. "I believe this masterpiece belongs to you."

I bit my bottom lip and took it from him. "Yes, thank you."

"I hope I didn't embarrass you when I read it, but I wanted to share it with your fellow classmates," he said, a sympathetic expression on his face as if he genuinely gave a shit about my feelings.

"No, not at all," I claimed. "I found it very flattering, in fact."

Brian smiled. "I'm glad."

I stood in front of him for several seconds, not knowing what to do or what he was going to say or do to me.

"Isn't it your lunch time?" he finally asked me.

"Oh... yeah. It's baked ziti day."

"Mmm, I may have to get some of that myself," he replied.

We had a test later in English Lit on Hamlet that took up the entire class period. It was made up of multiple choice and true/false questions, and I found it quite easy. I was the first one to bring my test up to Brian's desk.

"Thank you," he whispered to me as I handed it over to him.

I stood in front of his desk much longer than necessary, just staring at him.

"Do you need something?" he whispered.

I wanted to ask him where he was going that weekend, but I didn't want him to think I cared. "No," I whispered back before returning to my desk.

At the end of the school day, I met Daphne at her locker as usual. We were about to leave when Brian walked past us, dropping a folded up piece of paper at my feet like he had before.

I picked it up and put it in my pocket.

"What was that?" Daphne asked.

I shrugged.

We got into Daphne's car a few minutes later.

"What does it say? What does it say?" she demanded to know, bouncing in her seat.

I took the paper out and unfolded it.

"Have Daphne drop you off at the Sunoco station down the street. Tell her to wait in the car," I read out loud.

We looked at each other curiously before she started the car. Doing as the note instructed, Daphne pulled into the Sunoco and shut off the engine.

"I need gas, anyway," she said after handing me a ten dollar bill.

I did not see the Jeep anywhere, but I went inside the gas station store alone. Not knowing what else to do after paying for the gas, I slowly walked around and looked at the various snack foods that the store had for sale.

$7.49 for a bag of turkey jerky? As my friend Emmett would say, Lord ham turkey!

I saw Brian walk through the door a minute later. I stood in front of the candy bar shelf and waited for him to walk over to me.

"How's it going?" he mumbled, not looking at me.

"Good," I replied.

"I understand that tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday," he said.

"How did you find that out? I never told you."

"I have access to your school record with your personal information on it, you know."

I picked up a Snickers bar and started reading the nutritional content on the back of the label. "Of course."

"Do you have any plans? I mean, are you having a party or something over the weekend?"

I glanced over at him for a moment. "Since my birthday is just a few weeks before Christmas, we usually don't do much to celebrate it. Mom will usually cook something special and make a cake for me, but I haven't had a party since I was in elementary school. With the divorce going on, the mood in our house is pretty somber... hell, she's hardly even acknowledged that I'm turning eighteen tomorrow."

Brian took the candy bar out of my hands so that my only focus would be on him. "Do you want to go to Manhattan with me over the weekend?"

I willed my mouth to form words, but I was literally speechless.

"I take a trip out there each year before Christmas, and I plan on leaving town around five today. After stopping for dinner on the way, we'll arrive around midnight... that is, if you go with me. You'll love the hotel where I've booked a room for us."

I couldn't speak or move, so I just continued to stare at him with what had to be a dopey-ass look on my face.

Brian put the Snickers back on the shelf and leaned in close to me. "Go home, tell your mom that Emmett invited you to New York to celebrate your birthday this weekend, and I'll pick you up in the usual drop-off spot at five," he whispered before walking out of the store.

Was I in the Jeep at five o'clock that evening? Fuck yeah, I was!

"Did your mom give you any flack for leaving?" Brian asked as he turned out of my neighborhood.

"A little bit, but it's alright. I pointed out to her that I'll legally be an adult in seven hours, so she couldn't force me to stay."

Brian put me in charge of choosing the music for our trip. He handed a huge CD organizer to me, and while flipping through it I noticed that he owned virtually every single classic rock album ever produced. They were all alphabetized by artist.

I settled on The Who's Who's Next album, which starts with my favorite of their songs "Baba O'Riley."

"You know, a lot of people think this song is called 'Teenage Wasteland,'" I said.

Brian scoffed. "Dumbasses."

We followed the Pennsylvania Turnpike for a little more than an hour before we reached the town of Somerset. We stopped at a family steakhouse for dinner and got back on the road around seven.

After only stopping one more time for a bathroom break, we hit the Lincoln Tunnel taking us across the Hudson River into Manhattan at exactly twelve AM. Great White's "Rock Me" was playing out of the Jeep's speakers.

"Congratulations, Sunshine," Brian announced. "You're officially an adult now."

I smiled widely. "Yay."

He had refused to tell me about the hotel we were going to be staying at until we finally got there.

"We're staying at the Library Hotel** on Madison," Brian said as we pulled into a parking garage on Park Avenue. "Every floor has a different literary theme with the rooms numbered by the Dewey Decimal System. Each room has a different genre and they'll have a bunch of books from that genre in the room."

"I've heard of this place!" I excitedly replied. "I saw something on the Travel Channel about it."

Brian had reserved the "Classic Fiction" room on the eighth floor of the hotel. The room was beautifully decorated and had several gorgeous paintings on the walls. As Brian had promised, there was a large bookshelf that was filled with books.

After dropping my suitcase on the floor and shedding my coat, I walked over to the bookshelf to peruse the titles. Moby-Dick, Great Gatsby, 1984, Frankenstein, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Catcher in the Rye, Pride and Prejudice, The Old Man and The Sea, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn...

I was officially in Heaven.

"I think I'm gonna cry," I informed Brian.

He chuckled and pointed at something over my shoulder. "I have a better idea."

I had hardly noticed that there was a king sized bed covered in a fluffy creamy-white duvet a few steps away from us.

"Oh," I said.

Brian reached up and ran the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. "What do you want for your birthday?"

What did I want for my birthday? Did he really have to ask?

I responded by sucking his thumb into my mouth and biting it gently. He groaned and replaced his thumb with his tongue.

After Brian had stripped the covers off the bed, we probably set the world record for how quickly two people could get naked. The room was a bit chilly, but I knew that we would soon warm each other up.

I had been looking forward to this moment for so long, playing it out many different ways in my head. Sometimes Brian was aggressive, sometimes he was so gentle I hardly noticed he was there, and other times he was like Goldilocks... just right.

Brian started kissing me again once we had tumbled onto the ridiculously comfortable bed together, his tongue doing amazingly wonderful things to my mouth like only he could. His teeth nipped teasingly at my bottom lip before he pulled it into his mouth. He then pulled away, smoothing back some hair off of my forehead as he looked into my eyes.

"You are really beautiful, you know that?" Brian whispered to me.

My smile could have lit up the Manhattan skyline all on its own.

"Are you sure you want this?"

I nodded, because of course I was sure.

"Say it," he demanded. "I want to hear you say it."

"I... I want this," I said, my voice suddenly shaking a bit. "I want this more than anything in my entire life, Brian."

That was all the convincing he needed. He rolled over on top of me and settled his lower body between my legs. I loved the feeling of him lying on me, not quite crushing me but rather comforting me with his weight. He continued kissing me for what felt like hours but what was probably only a few minutes before he started making his way slowly down my body.

He reached for my hands and entwined our fingers, continuing on down my torso and leaving feather light kisses along the way. I jumped when his tongue circled my right nipple.

Brian looked up at me and smirked before placing a wet, open mouthed kiss in the middle of my chest.

"You love it when I play with your nipples, don't you?" he asked tauntingly.

"Yes, so keep doing it, dammit," I ordered.

Without realizing what I was even doing, I forcefully pushed his head back down. I could feel Brian's groan escape from him as he continued working on my nipples, sucking them gently and nibbling them lightly with his teeth.

The lower he went down my body, the more nervous I started to become. I didn't want him to know that I was secretly terrified of what was about to happen, because even with how much I had been practicing with my "Welcome to Queerdom" dildo at home, I knew that it was going to hurt like hell once he started penetrating me.

I wanted this... I needed this. Fuck the pain.

Brian must have sensed how anxious I was, because he untangled our fingers and began running his hands lightly up and down my sides.

I giggled like a little girl. "Stop, that tickles."

"Sorry," Brian said, stilling his hands so I would stop squirming.

He kissed and swirled his tongue around my belly button before continuing his journey south. He then buried his face into my pubes and breathed me in, exhaling with a sigh as if he had just smelled a lovely bouquet.

I was happy I wasn't the only one who enjoyed the smell of man stench.

He moved his hands down to my hips and nudged at my thigh with his nose, encouraging me to spread my legs wider for him.

I shivered as I felt his cool breath tease the inside of my leg before he began sucking gently on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A growl-like moan escaped from me as I felt his hair tickle my cock, and I reached out and clenched the super-soft sheet with both hands.

The sight of Brian in between my legs worshipping my body was almost too much for me to handle. I had never been so fucking hard in my life and he hadn't even touched my cock yet. I reach down to try and ease some of the pressure, but Brian pushed my hand away.

"Don't touch," he warned.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered. "I'm eighteen... it's not my fault I have no self control where my cock is concerned. I can only take so much."

He gave me a pitiful look. "You're right, Justin. Pull your knees up all the way."

Once my knees were up Brian started licking around my hole, then he stiffened his tongue and pushed it in as far as it would go as he ran his thumb across my slit. He only had to do that for a few seconds before I shot a huge load right over my head, hitting the headboard.

As hot as that was, I couldn't help but laugh at the distance I had achieved. I lowered my legs, putting my feet flat on the bed.

"There, that should take some of the pressure off," Brian said with a smile. "Alright, enough of this foreplay shit. I don't know how much more I can take, either. I've been waiting forever to get in your hot little ass."

I watched as Brian walked over to his suitcase and pulled out a fancy-looking bottle of lube and a big box of condoms. He furiously ripped the box open and carried it and the lube over to the nightstand.

"Wow, you came prepared," I said. "You so knew what was going to happen once you got me here, didn't you?"

Brian froze for a moment. "We don't have to do this, you know."

"No!" I yelled, bolting up to a seated position. "I want to! I mean-"

He chuckled. "You're such a cocky little shit. It's so much fun to tease you."

"Oh, so that's what this whole cat-and-mouse bullshit has been over the past few weeks? Fun?"

Brian sat beside me on the bed. "There have been some fun moments, yes."

I smiled as he pushed me back down and pressed his lips hotly against mine.

"Let's have some real fun," he said.

He opened the bottle of lube and squirted some onto his fingers, his eyes never once leaving mine.

"Are you comfortable?"

I nodded as he lay himself back down beside me, his perfectly tanned skin next to mine making me look even paler than usual. The contrast was mesmerizing.

"Open your legs a little for me," he asked, his voice rough with want and desire.

I did as I was told and watched the look on Brian's face as he took in all of my naked flesh. He made me feel so... yes, beautiful. We were beautiful together.

I jumped a little when I felt a cold, gooey finger at my entrance.

"Relax," he said in a soothing tone.

I laughed nervously. "It's cold."

"It'll warm up," he promised.

I relaxed when he touched me again. His finger circled my hole briefly before I felt him push the tip in gently and wiggle his finger around inside of me.

Even during the times we had fooled around before, he had never put anything inside of my ass other than his tongue when he rimmed me the night before Thanksgiving. A little too intimate for him, I suppose.

I squeezed my eyes closed tightly as he pushed his finger in deeper, stretching me. It felt so different than when I did it to myself. So much more... intense. Better.

"Open your eyes for me, Justin, and keep them open," he demanded.

I did as he said and smiled.

"How does that feel?" he asked as he slid his finger almost completely out before pushing it back inside.

I responded with a groan as I tightened up around him.

"Do you want more?"

I nodded my head vigorously. Yes, I fucking wanted more!

"Say it, Justin. Tell me what you want."

"I want... I want more," I whimpered, loving the way he kept saying my first name since he hardly ever did.

"Yeah?" Brian said as he slipped in a second finger.

I gasped, giving him the opportunity to swipe the inside of my mouth with his tongue as he worked his magic with his long fingers. He rhythmically sucked on my tongue and thrust his fingers in and out of me. All I could do was moan with every exhale.

I could see Brian reach over for the lube with his free hand. He partially pulled his fingers out and added more. Soon a third finger joined in on the fun.

"Oh, God!" I growled. "Please... please, please, please."

"Please, what, birthday boy?" Brian asked me teasingly.

"Please... fuck me!" I screamed.

"Shhhh... you'll wake up the entire building," he loudly whispered at me.

"I don't care. I need to feel you inside of me!"

"You need to, huh?"

Ugh, he was such an asshole...

He obviously got off on hearing me beg. "Please, Brian. I want you now."

He sighed dramatically, as if my request was an imposition. "Well, alright, I guess I've made you wait long enough."

Brian pulled his fingers out of me, instantly leaving me feeling like something was missing. I had to remind myself that had only been a warm up for the main event.

He then reached over and tore a condom from the strip. He tore the foil packet open with his teeth, spit the torn-off piece onto the floor, and handed the rolled up condom to me.

"Put it on me," he instructed.

I must have hesitated, because he goaded, "Go on... in this case you'll need to wrap your present, instead of unwrap it."

I chuckled and reached out with shaking hands to roll the condom onto his huge erection.

"Get up on your elbows. I want you to watch me enter you," he said, kissing my neck.

Just hearing him say that almost made me shoot off another rocket.

I propped myself up as Brian positioned himself in front of me.

"Ready?" he asked.

I pushed myself up further to kiss him.

Taking that as an affirmative answer, Brian pushed the head of his cock into my ass.

I hissed at the burn and pressure.

"Breathe, Justin," he said just over a whisper. "Try to push me out."

He let me take a few slow breaths before pushing farther inside. Not feeling any resistance, Brian suddenly shoved nearly all the way in.

My front teeth involuntarily clacked together, and I bit the tip of my tongue in the process.

"Aah!" I yelled out.

"Sorry, I'm trying to be gentle," Brian said, slowly pulling out a little.

"No... not you. I bit my tongue," I clarified, sticking it out for him to see.

He rolled his eyes. "Only you..."

He made it better by kissing me as he started rocking in and out of me. He then kissed me along my jaw as he continued to move, the bed squeaking under us as he found his pace.

Once he had developed a steady rhythm, he pushed me back onto the pillow and grabbed my legs so I could place my ankles on his shoulders. Soon he was thrusting so deep I could practically feel him in my throat.

I had no idea what to do with my hands. I wanted to grab at his back, claw at it with my fingernails, do something, but in that particular position all I could do was grab fistfuls of his hair and hold on for the ride of my life.

"Tell me how it feels to finally have my cock inside of you," he whispered into my ear.

Before I could answer, I came, clamping down hard on his huge cock. My orgasm soon triggered his.

He collapsed on top of me, breathing hard. We lay there together, our legs entwined and our bodies drenched in sweat.

If there was a God, he could have taken me right then and there.

"Brian..." was all I managed to say when I finally caught my breath.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he carefully pulled out. "Did I hurt you?" 

"No, you didn't hurt me. I feel wonderful. How long before we can do it again?"

I was already a slut for his cock and damned proud of it.

"Are you sure you want to go again so soon, Sunshine? You may be sore for a while."

"No, I want to try riding you now. Please Brian? Look, I'm already hard again and so are you. Besides, it's my birthday, remember?"

Brian pulled the condom off, tied it like a balloon, and threw it across the room at a trash can in the corner.

"Three points," I said with a giggle.

He smiled before rolling over onto his back. "Just go slow so you don't hurt yourself, okay? It's going to feel longer and thicker this way. I don't want you to end up in the emergency room after this."

I got another condom and handed it to him. "Help me put it on you this time."

Once we had rolled it on together and Brian had slathered on some more lube, I straddled him and planted my hands on his chest.

Brian reached behind me and cupped my ass with both hands. I arched into his touch as I silently plead with my inexperienced body to take him like this.

"Help me," I asked as I took one of his hands to guide him inside of me.

I slowly sunk down onto him inch by inch, breathing through the burn and stretch. Our eyes were locked onto each others as he hit my sweet spot, and any pain I had initially felt was quickly replaced by nothing but intense pleasure.

Brian ran his hands all over my chest, pinching a nipple here and there. We rocked together, wanting our joining to last as long as possible this time. I started raising myself up higher, loving the feeling of Brian's huge cock sliding in and out of me. Every time one of us would get too close, we would slow down.

Finally, neither one of us could take it any longer. I started squeezing my ass every time I rose up and then slammed down on Brian's cock as hard as I could. We came together shouting out each other's names, adding a few expletives for good measure.

Oh, sex... where have you been all my life? How did I make it eighteen whole years without you?

That was the last thing that went through my mind as I fell asleep on top of Brian, his cock still inside of me.

Brian and I had woken up sometime before sunrise practically stuck together with cum and sweat. He dragged me into the shower and washed me from head to toe, much like he did the night I had gotten so high on ecstasy that I could hardly function. Luckily there were two sheets on the bed with a thin blanket between them, so we were able to strip off the wet sheet covering the mattress and put it in the hallway for some poor housekeeper to find in the morning.

We woke again around noon and decided it was time to start our day. I waddled to the bathroom to pee, discovering that my asshole was rather tender from the workout Brian had given it the night before. He noticed that I was walking gingerly, so he gave my ass an inspection to make sure there weren't any obvious injuries. Not seeing any, Brian lovingly applied some Preparation H and gave me some Advil that he was thoughtful enough to bring along to help ease my discomfort.

There was coffee available in the hotel's Reading Room, but it was too late for the complimentary continental breakfast at that point. After having some of their delicious coffee, Brian and I walked down the street to a deli for lunch. We next took a cab over to Fifth Avenue, home to some of the world's most upscale shopping.

Brian went crazy in the Armani store, spending a few thousand dollars on various items of clothing. Next up was Saks, and then Hugo Boss, and finally Gucci before Brian exhausted himself and his credit card. He let me pick out several things for him and even treated me to a few very nice shirts and pairs of pants for my birthday.

It was about dinner time by then, so we went back to the hotel to drop off our purchases and freshen up before taking off again. We rode over to Times Square and had some of the best pizza I had ever had in my life at John's Pizzeria. We then walked around amongst the other tourists before Brian informed me that we had tickets to see Rent at eight o'clock.

I had never seen Rent before, but Brian had and said that it was a great musical. Indeed, it was. I laughed, I cried, I loved it. Afterwards, we went to Rockefeller Center to see the big ass Christmas tree before heading back to the hotel for the night.

New York City was often called "The City That Never Sleeps," but I was fucking exhausted after our long day. I could have crawled in bed and slept until New Year's Day, but Brian had other ideas.

"You have a little over an hour left of your birthday," he pointed out as he removed my coat and tossed it on a nearby chair.

I glanced down at my watch. "Yes, I do. It's been an amazing day... probably the best birthday I've ever had and will ever have, thanks to you."

He gave me a peck on the lips. "It was my pleasure, Sunshine. In fact, how about we each have a little more pleasure before the night is through?"

We got rid of our pesky clothing before sliding between the sheets together. Brian cupped my right butt cheek and asked, "Are you feeling okay now?"

I nodded before planting my lips firmly on his.

This time around, Brian didn't waste much time with foreplay but did gently prepare me with plenty of lube. He rolled on a condom and covered that with lube, too. He was laying between my legs and was about to enter me, but I stopped him.

"Can we do it doggy style?" I asked.

He almost looked impressed by my suggestion. "Certainly, birthday boy."

I flipped over onto my knees and elbows. Brian got behind me and ran his hands down my sides.

"God, your ass..." he whispered.

I shivered at his touch as he ran his cock between my legs and grabbed hold of my hips.

"Hey, relax," he soothed as he pushed the head of his cock inside of me, stretching me open.

I grunted as I felt him make shallow thrusts. He still only had the tip inside of me. I wanted more. I wanted to feel him fill me up.

"Push back against me, Sunshine."

Brian's hands gripped my hips tightly as he encouraged me to push back onto him. I did, and every time I thought I couldn't possibly take anymore he'd push in farther until I was completely impaled.

"Ah, fuck!" I screamed into the pillow. I felt overwhelmingly full and I fucking loved it. He felt so much bigger in that position.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Brian asked.

"No... no, I'm fine," I stammered. "Don't stop. Please."

He was hurting me a bit, but it felt amazing at the same time.

"Take a few deep breaths," he instructed, most likely aware that I was lying.

I did as he said and breathed through the pain.

"Good boy," he said as he started moving his hips, hitting me deeper than ever before. He took care to hit my prostate with every thrust, making me moan and growl like some sort of wild animal in heat.

He was making an effort to keep his weight off of me, his hands alternating between holding my hips or pressed against my lower back, but I wanted to feel his weight on me. I wanted him to push me down face first into the mattress. I needed it, I fuckingneeded to feel him.

He hit my prostate again and my entire body shuddered.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I think I might die from the pleasure," I said with a sigh.

Brian chuckled and continued to drive forward, his balls slapping deliciously against my ass, making the most wonderful noise.

I tilted my hips up higher and pressed my upper body against the mattress, changing the angle at which he hit me.

"Fuck," I groaned, feeling like I was going to explode at any second. I gripped the pillow with both hands as I tried to hold off.

Brian drew back before roughly thrusting back into me, his balls hitting my ass with an audible slap. I bit the pillow beneath my head, the delicious burning in my ass making me crave more. He continued pounding into me, punishing my prostate and making me grunt and groan without a fucking care in the world.

"You feel fucking incredible, Sunshine," Brian moaned as he held my hips tightly, surely marking me with bruises on my sensitive skin, making me his.

I couldn't believe I was able to hold on for as long as I did. "Brian, I'm almost... I'm close."

My right hand moved between my legs, pumping myself once, twice, and then I came so hard I literally thought I was going to die. My orgasm went on forever, or at least it felt as though it did.

I kept my face buried in the pillow as my body shook violently, every nerve in my body firing and crackling.

Brian let out the deepest of groans as he thrust into me a couple more times before his orgasm overtook him. His body went rigid as he shot into the condom. His cock pulsed inside of me, stimulating my already over-stimulated prostate.

He collapsed on top of me, our bodies slick with sweat. My knees shook and collapsed beneath me, and we both fell onto the mattress. I loved the feeling of him inside me and I never wanted him to leave.

After a couple of minutes, Brian lifted himself off of me, clasped the condom tightly, and slowly pulled out. His fingers brushed against my thoroughly fucked hole, making me jump a bit and grimace.

"Are you sore?" he asked softly, his face etched with worry. "I got carried away at the end."

"A little," I admitted. "But it was worth it. I love it when you fuck me."

Brian laughed as he rolled both of us over and wrapped me tightly in his arms. I just couldn't get enough of how he smelled, especially after sex. I could feel myself getting hard again already, but sleep overtook me before we could begin round two.

We woke up the next morning around ten, early enough to have breakfast downstairs after sharing a hot shower together. I loaded up a plate with a blueberry muffin, some fresh sliced fruit, and two hard boiled eggs along with a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. Brian only had some coffee and a few slices of fruit, but I wasn't surprised since he had eaten a bunch of pizza the night before and normally ate like a bird. I wished that we had more time to spend at the hotel, because the Reading Room was so beautiful and there were thousands of books to choose from if you wanted to sit down and read, but we only had a few hours before we had to head back home.

Brian asked me if I could go anywhere in the city, where I would want to go. The answer was a no brainer: the Morgan Library and Museum four blocks away from the hotel. The Public Library was closer, but I had been there before during previous visits to the city.

We got into a cab and took the short trip over to the Morgan Library. I got out first and expected Brian to follow me, but he instead closed the car door while still inside.

"I'll be back here in a couple of hours," he told me through the open window. "I'm going to meet a friend of mine from college for brunch downtown."

"Oh... okay," I said, trying to hold back my disappointment from not being invited.

How would that have looked, though, for Brian to bring his boy toy to brunch with him? I was obviously much younger than Brian and I was sure he wouldn't want to lie to his friend about who I actually was. It was also a possibility that Brian just straight up did not want me to come with him and may have had this brunch planned before he had thought to invite me on this trip with him.

The cab pulled away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk.

I went inside the historic building and spent about half an hour just walking around and gawking at everything. There was an announcement made that there was a tour about to be conducted, so I joined in on that. It was all so beautiful and fascinating. Once it was over, I walked around browsing the titles on the bookshelves until Brian found me. I had to show him a few of the exhibits before we left.

I hoped that we could fool around some once we had gotten back to our room, but Brian informed me that he had paid for a late check out at three o'clock which didn't give us much time to pack. I was sad to leave the gorgeous hotel, but all good things must eventually come to an end. I promised myself as we walked out of the building with our suitcases that I would stay there again someday and take full advantage of it.

Later when we were back on the interstate going through New Jersey, I decided it was time to have a serious chat.

I hit the pause button on the CD player and turned in my seat towards Brian. He looked over at me for a moment.

"Yes?" he asked, waiting for me to begin.

"Brian... what's going to happen once we get back home?"

He shrugged. "I'll drop you at your house, then..."

"No, I mean how are things going to be between us after this weekend?"

Brian changed lanes to get around a semi. "I... I don't know."

"I just know that I don't want any more games. Now that we've... you know... I think things should be more mature between us. I don't want to be constantly walking on eggshells around you anymore."

He thought about it for a few seconds before saying, "I think that's fair."

I smiled. "Okay. I thought about it today while I was at the library, and I think that while we are at school, we should keep things on a professional level. I want you to treat me as you did before I ever found out you were gay."

"So, I should go back to treating you like you're my favorite student, rather than the sexy little twink who I know for a fact can swallow my cock like a champeen and has without a doubt the tightest ass I've ever fucked?"

I couldn't help but blush a bit. "Yeah. But when we're not at school... that's what I'm unsure about. Look, I am under no illusions that just because we've fucked that it means we're boyfriends or something, but I also hope that this weekend won't be a one time deal. I don't mean that we should leave town every time we want to fuck or that I expect you to take me on expensive vacations, but-"

"Justin," he said, interrupting my breathless ramble. "You're right: we're not going to be boyfriends, because I don't do boyfriends. I've never had a boyfriend and I don't want one. We mustn't forget that you're still my student and I'm still your teacher."

"But only for six more months," I reminded him.

"True, but in the meantime, we definitely should keep it professional at school, which means I can't give you rides home anymore or anything else that could potentially get us caught. But outside of school... yeah, I'd be lying if I said that I'll never want to fuck you again. I thought after finally having you this weekend, I would be able to throw you away like I have every single guy that has come before you, but you're not like every guy. No one has ever chased me and called me on my bullshit like you have, and that really intrigues me. Plus, Jesus Christ, you're fucking amazing in bed."

Again, I blushed.

"And I know it probably won't be long before I'll want your hot mouth or tight ass again. But I'm still going to fuck anyone I want, whenever I want, and I don't want you to pout and cry about it, alright?"

I nodded sadly. "Okay."

"And at the same time, you're free to fuck other people, too. In fact, I encourage it, because you'll only get better the more you practice. Just promise me that you'll be safe, okay? Never, ever fuck anyone without a condom. Promise me."

I really didn't want to fuck anyone other than him, but I appreciated his concern about my safety. "I promise."

Things between me and Brian did get back to normal at school once we returned to Pittsburgh from our trip to Manhattan. There was a week and a half left of the semester at that point. I first didn't know if we could pull it off successfully, but it was easy going back to our earlier teacher/student relationship with Brian's participation. I looked forward to his classes each day, both because I got to see him and because I didn't have to worry about how he would treat me during class. It was very refreshing after going through the tension of the last several weeks.

Brian often engaged in discussions with me during his classes as he had before my discovery of him at Babylon, which was really nice. We also eye-fucked each other regularly and exchanged many lingering smiles, which may have not been very professional but weren't harmful.  

Things outside of school were even better. I worked a few evenings at the diner that first week back from our trip, with my mother being nice enough to loan me her car. Twice Brian came to eat dinner and invited me to his loft after my shift. The sex was absolutely magnificent, somehow even better than it had been in Manhattan.

Daphne and I went to Babylon on Saturday night, where I wore one of the new outfits that Brian had bought me during our trip. I was thrilled when Bruce the doorman presented me with my very own VIP card. I had been afraid that Brian hadn't updated him on me being allowed into the club, so I was shocked to have been given VIP access without even having to ask Brian for it. Bruce even called me "Mr. Taylor" and smiled brightly at "Miss Chanders," wishing us both a wonderful evening.

Taking full advantage of my new elevated status, I got myself a whiskey sour and Daphne an appletini in no time flat, for free of course. We took our drinks over to the seating area and giggled over how special we (well, I and by default her) were.

We later hit the dance floor and shook our asses to the default techno music. I kept my eyes peeled for Brian and told Daphne to do the same, but neither of us saw him. Emmett soon found us, and the three of us danced for the next hour or so.

As my watch rolled past eleven PM, I was getting antsy. I knew that Brian had to be somewhere in the building and decided to go look for him.

I did not see him on the dance floor when I looked from the second level balcony and he did not answer my knock at his office door, so I decided to take a walk through the only other place he could be, the backroom. I didn't want to find Brian balls deep in another man, but I knew that Daphne couldn't stay out much later and there was no way I was going to leave Babylon without seeing him.

I entered the backroom, said hello to Todd, and looked around for Brian. Sure enough, that's where I found him. I was relieved to see that he was not fucking someone but was instead getting his dick sucked. The guy doing the sucking must have been doing a good job, because Brian was making the face he made when he was close to coming.

I boldly walked over and stood right next to him. He had his eyes closed, so to let him know I was there, I stood on my toes and licked the side of his neck. That certainly got his attention, because he turned his head to look at me and smiled.

"Well hello, Mr. Taylor," he said as if we were passing each other in the halls at St. James.

"Hello, Mr. Kinney," I replied before capturing his lips in a kiss.

We made out for the next several seconds before he moaned as he came. I would have liked to believe that kissing me was what made him come, but it was probably a combination of my lips and the guy sucking his dick that brought him off.

The cocksucker was soon forgotten as Brian continued to kiss me, not even thanking the cocksucker for a job well done.

"I want to fuck you right here, right now," Brian mumbled against my lips.

Although I had been looking forward to the day that he would fuck me in the backroom, the thought of him sticking his dick into my ass moments after it had been down some other guy's throat did not appeal to me. Sure, Brian would be wearing a condom, but it was still gross.

I looked into his eyes and asked, "How about you take me home and fuck me all night?"

He smiled. "That sounds like a great idea, Sunshine."

Holy shit... I didn't think he'd actually say yes.

We started in his shower, where I thoroughly washed his junk of any remaining stranger's saliva. He made use of the condoms he kept in the soap dish when he turned me around and fucked me against the glass shower door.

Our subsequent rounds continued in his bed. I couldn't decide what position I liked better: him on top, me on top, or doggy-style. Brian enjoyed testing my flexibility by lifting my legs and folding me up like a pretzel when he was on top, and he was able to pound into me until we were each screaming in ecstasy. I loved the power I felt when I was on top, even though I was technically bottoming since his dick was in my ass. Still, I could control the speed, depth, and angle, and of course it felt amazing. I hated that I couldn't see Brian's beautiful face when he fucked me from behind, but I loved it when he grabbed hold of my hips and rammed into me. All I could do was scream into a pillow as I savored the pleasure.

We fucked in all three positions before he finally tapped out from pure exhaustion.

"Okay... okay," Brian gasped as he pulled out and rolled off of my back after fucking me doggy. "I've hit my limit. I am incapable of coming again for at least the next six to eight hours."

I had to admit that I was starting to feel pretty sore. "Yeah, my ass may need a few days to recover."

Brian and I spent a lazy Sunday at the loft exchanging blow jobs and watching A Streetcar Named Desire, which I had never seen before. He took me home before dinner time, giving me a toe-curling kiss in the Jeep before I got out.

My Chemistry final had been on that previous Friday while my other six finals were taken over the next three days, with the last day of school being Wednesday before Winter Break began. I could have been exempted from taking two of the finals if I didn't have that suspension on my record after getting into the fight with Hobbs. Luckily each test had been very easy, especially the ones in Creative Writing and English Literature. Brian smiled at me each time I brought both of my completed tests up to his desk.

He dropped a note at my feet on Wednesday while I was at Daphne's locker at the end of the day that said, "I hope you've recovered. I'll pick you up at eight to celebrate the end of the semester. Wear that blue sweater I bought you."

Brian drove us to Woody's, where the gang was waiting at one of the large tables. Unfortunately that included Michael who didn't look any happier to see me as I was to see him.

"Jesus, why the fuck did you have to bring him?" Michael snarled at Brian.

"Be nice," Brian said in his teacher voice, which immediately shut Michael up.

Ted and Blake must have smoothed things over, because they were there together. In fact, Blake was sitting on Ted's lap.

Brian saw the couple and said, "Ted Schmidt, happy at last... fucking unbelievable."

"Yeah, who would have thought, huh?" Ted said before giving his blonde beau a kiss on the cheek.

Emmett motioned over to the table behind us with a tip of his head. "Did you guys see the new waiter? Yowza."

Brian and I looked at the waiter in question, who was indeed a very attractive blonde man wearing a tight white tank top.

"Damn," I said.

Brian draped an arm over my shoulder and whispered into my ear, "You're hotter."

Michael turned to Brian and said, "Oh, you didn't tell me how that meeting in New York went."

"What meeting?" I asked before remembering the brunch he went to after dropping me off at the Morgan Library.

"Brian had an interview a couple weeks ago," Michael said in a slightly condescending tone. "Did you ever hear back about that job, Brian?"

I looked at Brian, who removed his arm and sunk into his chair, a guilty look on his face.

"What's he talking about?" I asked, a sick feeling suddenly coming over me.

Brian sighed. "You remember that brunch I went to-"

"Yes," I quickly said.

"Well, back during my suspension last month, I called up a friend of mine from college who works at HarperCollins in Manhattan. You know, the publisher? I told him that I was afraid I was about to lose my job here, and he said he'd put a good word in for me with his department head. I sent them my resume and a writing sample, and apparently they liked what they saw because they wanted to meet with me."

I waited for several seconds. "And?"

"...and that's what that brunch was," Brian confessed.

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that," I said, trying to hold back my emotions. "Was that what that whole trip was about? An interview?"

"Partially. I would have gone out there anyway to go shopping like I did, and I also thought it'd be nice to bring you along, too."

"Wait," Michael interrupted. "You took him with you to Manhattan?"

"Shut up, Michael," Brian ordered, causing Michael to snap his mouth shut.

"So what happened during this ‘brunch'?" I asked, using air quotes around brunch.

"I met with a couple of people from HarperCollins at a restaurant across from their office downtown," Brian explained, looking down at the table. "They told me that I was too good to be toiling away making thirty-six thousand dollars a year as a high school English teacher in Pittsburgh and said that I could possibly get a job there as a book editor. They were even interested in selling a novel I've been working on and possibly re-distributing my old ones if the new one sells well."

"Did they actually offer you a job?" Emmett asked from across the table.

"They called me last week and offered it to me. Starting pay is sixty thousand per year, plus a ten thousand dollar advance on a novel. A realtor said I could easily get half a million for my loft and over a million for Babylon."

Tears were welling up in my eyes. "Did you take the job?"

Brian finally looked at me. "I start the day after New Year's."

I ran out of Woody's and onto the sidewalk, my body shaking with sobs. I realized that I left without my coat when Brian carried it out to me a minute later.

"Don't go," I begged him tearfully. "You can't go. What about me... us?"

"I'm sure you'll get along just fine on your own," Brian said as he pushed my coat into my arms.

I shook my head and started putting my coat back on. "No, I won't."

"Yeah, you will," he said, sounding confident. "You're going to do what you should have done a long time ago. You're going to meet some twinkie your own age and finally get over me."

"What do you think I want with some kid who doesn't know shit?" I screamed.

He thought about it for a moment before he said, "I think I should take you home. I need to start packing my stuff, anyway."

"Fine!" I yelled, not giving a single fuck that I was creating a scene. "Go! Go to New York! Go to your new life without me! In a year, probably not even that long, you won't even remember everything we've shared. How I was there for you after your dad died and all the time we've spent together. Maybe someday you'll think to yourself, ‘Oh, I wonder what happened to that student of mine who wouldn't leave me alone. The one that thought he was in love with me. The one I risked my job to be with.' That is, if you'll even fucking think of me at all!"

I started walking towards the Jeep before Brian yelled, "I won't! I won't think of you. After I leave, I don't plan on ever looking back. This whole thing with us has been a mistake since day one, but you were like a virus that I was powerless to fight."

I turned around to look at him.

"Why do you think I'm leaving, huh?" he asked as he walked towards me. "Yeah, the job is a great opportunity for me to one day become a full-time writer and have a deal with a major publishing house, but it's not just that. It's you."

I stood there on the sidewalk with my mouth open, gasping as I tried to not completely lose it.

Did that mean his feelings for me were so strong that he thought the only solution was to run away? Was he... was he in love with me?

As I tried to create a coherent thought or sentence while standing in front of Brian after his very revealing statements which convinced me that he was most likely in love with me, the moment was ruined when Michael and the other guys came walking down the stairs out of Woody's.

"God dammit Brian," Michael grumbled, looking a bit teary-eyed. "Will you please talk to me?"

Brian sighed before turning around to face his so-called best friend. "I've made up my mind, Mikey. Like it or not, I'm going to New York."

"But why? New York is so far away!" I heard Michael whine before I took off across the street and down the block to the diner.

I walked in the door and looked around. Being that it was almost 9:00 on a Wednesday night, only a small handful of customers were sitting at the tables.

Debbie was standing behind the counter and came over to me. "Hey Sunshine," she said, her voice tinged with what I guessed was pity.

I was hit with a new wave of tears as I said, "Brian just said that he's moving to Manhattan."

She immediately enveloped me in her arms. "I know. I just got off the phone with Michael."

"He... he said that he was leaving to get away from me," I blubbered, practically melting in her warm embrace. "He'd rather run away than be with me. What's wrong with me?"

"Baby, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you," Debbie cooed into my ear. "You need to understand something about Brian. He-"

Before Debbie could go any further, the bell over the door rang. I could feel Brian's presence before I heard him speak.

"Justin," he called out.

I lifted my head off of Debbie's shoulder and looked over at him. "What?" I snarled.

His mouth opened a bit, and he looked a little flustered over what to say next. "I..."

Debbie took a step back and gave my shoulders a squeeze. "Why don't you sit down Sunshine, and I'll bring you a piece of apple pie? My treat."

What I wanted to do was go home, bury myself under the covers, and stay there until after New Year's.

Crying so much was making my nose run, forcing me to sniffle every few breaths. I shook my head and sniffled hard. "I don't want any pie."

"Bullshit," Brian said while taking off his coat. "I remember you telling me that apple is your favorite. Bring us two pieces, Deb."'

Debbie raised an eyebrow. "You actually want a piece of pie? It's not even a holiday."

"Put a scoop of ice cream on top while you're at it," Brian said before sitting down at the closest empty booth.

Debbie looked at me, back to Brian, and then back to me. "Well? What'll it be, kiddo?"

"Two apple pies ala mode, please," I quietly said to Debbie.

I waited until after she walked away before looking over at Brian.

"Are you going to sit down?" he asked me, gesturing to the bench seat across from him.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why the fuck should I?"

He gave me an amused smile. "Well, unless you plan on eating your pie standing up..."

I sniffed again before resigning myself to the booth. I then pulled out several napkins from the holder on the table and blew my nose.

"Sexy," Brian said.

"Oh, shut up," I snapped at him. "It's your fault, making me so fucking upset."

Debbie brought us our desserts and smacked a check down onto the table in front of Brian. "Yours isn't free," she barked at him.

I wasn't sure if she was angry at Brian because he was moving, because he had made me upset, because he had made Michael upset, or all of the above.

"I think I can afford $3.75 for the pie," Brian said in a sardonic tone.

"Yeah, he'll soon be pulling sixty thousand a year at his fancy-ass new job at HarperCollins, not to mention a book deal and at least one-point-five million after selling the loft and Babylon," I snarked.

"La-di-da," Debbie sing-songed before going to tend to another table.

I paused with my fork in mid-air before taking my first bite. Brian was looking down at his own pie but made no move to pick up his fork, as if he suddenly realized the mistake he made ordering it.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" I asked, challenging him to consume what must have been at least 1,000 calories of sugar, carbs, and fat. "You did order it, after all. There are starving children in Africa, you know."

Brian gave me a fake smile before picking up his fork, cutting into the pie, and shoving a big bite into his mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed as he chewed, unable to hold back how much he was actually enjoying the scrumptious dessert. Health nut that he was, he couldn't deny that he had a sweet tooth.

We ate in silence for a minute or two before I asked, "How did you get Michael off your back? I thought for sure he'd be in here by now, nagging you."

"Told him I'd take him to see that new Dungeons & Dragons movie tomorrow night."

I curled my lip and shook my head. "What a child... and a nerd."

"I heard that it sucks, but he's been begging me to see it with him since he saw the first trailer on TV. The professor would never take him."

"So that's all it takes to get you to do something?" I asked, dropping my fork onto my plate with a clank. "Beg? Okay, how about this? I'm begging you, Brian: please, please don't move to Manhattan. Please."

He sat down his fork and hung his head. "Justin..."

The tears started up again. "I'll be graduating in less than six months, and after that there will be nothing and no one from stopping us from being together."

"I already told the school board I'm leaving at the end of the semester. Tomorrow is my last day, in fact. I have to go into school in the morning to grade finals, which luckily are graded automatically in the Scantron machine and don't take long to process. Once I turn everyone's grades into the office and clean out my desk, I'm done. You got ninety-nine percent on your Creative Writing final, by the way; only one question wrong. Best score of the class. Of course, your final semester grade will be an A."

"Good for me," I muttered, wiping my dripping faucet of a nose on another napkin.

"I'll grade your English Lit final tomorrow, and I bet you did great on that one, too."

Encouraging words like that from him used to make me light up like the Fourth of July, but not any more. "I probably did. Even if you did quit St. James, it's not like there's nothing else you can do for a living here in Pittsburgh."

"What else can I do, other than go and teach at another school?" Brian asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "Run Babylon full time?"

"I already spend enough time at the club, thanks. If I was there almost every single night, I'd be a full-blown alcoholic, coke head, and sex addict, a lot more so than I already am. Any other suggestions?"

"You can be a full-time novelist while still owning the club. Isn't that your ultimate goal?"

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure that the HarperCollins book deal is contingent on me taking the editor job."

I looked at my half-eaten piece of pie. "Nothing I say is going to make you stay. You really do just want to get away from me, don't you? You're so piss-in-your-pants afraid of having real feelings for me, you'd rather leave your entire life behind just so you don't have to admit how you really feel."

I noticed that Brian was looking down at his right middle finger. "Do you want to know what my tattoo stands for?"

"Okay, what's the important thing you're trying so hard to resist that you got it permanently inked onto your otherwise flawlessly unblemished body?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know.

He looked into my eyes. "This. Giving a damn about somebody. Letting someone in, letting my guard down long enough for it to result in me caring about them."

"You care about people. Michael, Debbie, Vic, Lindsay... maybe even Emmett and Ted."

"Not like-" he said before catching himself, letting out his breath in a quick whoosh of air.

"Not like you care about me?" I guessed.

He bit his bottom lip.

I threw all caution to the wind. "Brian, do you love me?"

He looked back down at his tattoo and winced, as if it had suddenly begun to hurt as much as it must have when he got it.

I waited for several seconds, but he didn't answer. His silence only affirmed my suspicions: he did love me and it scared him to death.

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose again before saying, "You can take me home now. I've lost my appetite."

Brian threw a ten dollar bill onto the table before we left the diner.

After getting into the Jeep, Brian drove us to the end of the block. Where he should have turned right to take me home, he turned left. It didn't take a genius to know that we were headed to the loft.

Once we were inside and the alarm was set, Brian grabbed the back of my neck and smashed our mouths together. We shrugged out of our coats and stripped off our clothes while our mouths continued to be fused. Our naked bodies were pressed together, both of us needing to be as close as possible. Any anger I had towards him earlier was replaced with an overwhelming need to be with him, to let him show me what he couldn't tell me.

Brian put his hands on my ass, prompting me to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist. He carried me into the bedroom and gently laid me down on the bed. He straddled me and ran his hands over my pale skin, admiring my soft, supple body.

I had no doubt that if he actually did move to Manhattan, he would miss me a lot more than he would ever admit to himself or anyone else.

Brian started kissing and licking my neck, sucking on the spot at the base of my ear that he knew drove me crazy. I was moaning and writhing on the bed, my painfully hard cock dripping onto my belly. I reached for it, needing some relief from the throbbing, but he grabbed my wrist to stop me.

"Brian, I need... please," I said, thinking maybe that time he would listen to my begging.

"Put your hands above your head. I'll give you what you need... just wait," Brian answered before continuing on down to my nipples that were just begging to be sucked and pinched. He played with them, teasing with his tongue and fingers until they felt like hard little pebbles.

He rubbed his nose down along my hairless stomach, taking in my scent that he seemed to want to memorize, and dipped his tongue into my belly button which caused me to buck my hips up and almost throw him off of me. Finally, he reached the small pool of precum on my lower belly and licked it up, seeming to enjoy it even more than he had the apple pie ala mode.

Taking the head of my plumy-pink cock into his mouth, Brian stabbed his tongue into the slit and sucked, causing me to cry out and shoot a huge load into his throat. Before I could recover, he flipped me over to taste what seemed to be his other favorite flavor.

He grabbed my ass and spread the cheeks open, burying his face between them and flicking his tongue over my pulsing hole. I pulled my knees under myself and thrust my ass back, trying to get his tongue deeper inside. Brian stopped a few moments later only to begin biting and sucking on the sensitive skin of my ass cheeks, as if he was trying to mark what he considered to be his property.

I was moaning and panting like a bitch in heat, and my dick was hard and leaking again like I hadn't come in days instead of just minutes. I didn't know how much more of his teasing I could take.

"Brian, please..." I panted. "I need you to fuck me... now. I need you inside me. Please... fuck me."

I looked at him over my shoulder and briefly wondered what was going through his head, but I also needed to have his huge cock pounding into me. That was the thing that won out in my mind as the most important objective. I could ask him questions later.

Brian looked up, his hazel eyes glazed over as if he had gotten lost in his own little world while playing with my ass. He quickly grabbed a condom and a tube of lube from his nightstand drawer, sheathing his hard cock and lubing it in record time. He warmed some of the lube on his fingers before preparing me, making sure that I was ready and open enough that he wouldn't hurt me.

I loved that he was so gentle and concerned whenever we made love... or fucked, whatever. What we did was fucking to him, but not to me. During my brief time on Liberty Avenue, I had heard countless stories from various guys about how undetached and sometimes even cruel Brian was when he fucked, but he was never like that with me. I was different from the very first time we had sex at the Library Hotel.

I thought he was going to take me from behind, but he suddenly flipped me over onto my back.

"I want to look into those baby blues of yours when I..." He paused before continuing, "...fuck you."

I didn't care what position he did it in or what term he used to describe our sexual acts, but I needed him to do it now.

He wrapped my legs around his waist before he slowly and steadily entered me until his balls were pressed against my ass. Once he was fully inside, he stopped and just stared into my eyes, a strange look on his face. I laid under him frozen, unsure of what I should do, not even daring to breathe. I thought he was going to pull out and tell me to leave, but he suddenly blinked and started to slowly rock in and out, so slowly that it felt like he was mapping every inch of me with his huge cock.

Several glorious seconds later, Brian smiled down at me and said, "I want you to always remember this, so that whoever you're with, I'll always be there."

I couldn't hold back the tears that started to fall after hearing him say that, because it sounded a lot like he was saying Goodbye, don't forget me. I noticed that Brian's eyes were also shining with unshed tears of his own. He leaned down and captured my lips, reaching deep into my mouth with his tongue. He sped up his thrusting, changing his angle to hit my prostate every few strokes.

We had been going at it for quite a while when he finally grabbed my throbbing shaft and stroked it in time with his thrusts. Brian broke the kiss and looked deep into my eyes, whispering "Now" before our simultaneous orgasms hit.

He rested his head in the crook of my neck, puffing out hot breaths of air onto my sweaty skin. I wrapped my arms around him and tightened my legs around his waist, silently willing him not to move or ever leave me. Tears continued to pour out of my eyes, and I cried myself to sleep with Brian still on top and inside of me.    

Brian's alarm clock woke us up at seven the next morning. Reminding me that he needed to get to the school to finish grading finals and pack up his desk, we took a quick shower together that didn't even include a courtesy hand job to relieve my morning wood. He dropped me off down the street from my house, giving me a quick peck on the lips and a "later" to dismiss me.

"So much for the romantic Brian from last night," I mumbled as I watched the Jeep retreat down the street.

Having nothing better to do that day, I went to the diner and worked an eight-hour shift. Emmett, Michael, and Ted came in for lunch and sat at the counter.

I was rolling silverware close to them and couldn't help but listen to their conversation.

"The things my tongue could do to his nipples... that is, if I was single," Michael said.

I looked over at what his eyes were tracking and found that there was a guy with a fairly nice ass walking towards the back of the restaurant.

Ted chuckled. "I'm right there with you, only I'd go for his abs."

"I'd like to thank you boys for leaving me the most tender, delectable morsel," Emmett said. "Now that Brian's finally out of the picture, I might actually stand a chance."

"He's not out of the picture," I cut in.

Emmett looked at me and gave me a sympathetic smile. "Not yet sweetie, but it sure sounds like he's made his mind up to leave. After you ran out of Woody's last night, he said that a realtor would be coming by this evening to get the ball rolling on selling his place and Babylon."

I had to tighten the grip on the butter knife I was holding so I wouldn't drop it. "What? He didn't tell me that."

"Oh, poor you," Michael said in a nasty tone. "He promised me that we'd go to the movies tonight, and we might not even get to the theater on time. He knows that I hate to get there late and get stuck with shitty seats."

I realized that I had been pointing the butter knife at Michael when Emmett pushed my hand down.

Later that evening after I had gone home, showered, and ate dinner, I called Daphne. I was planning on breaking the news to her about Brian quitting St. James and moving to New York until I heard her voice.

"Hey," she said, sounding bummed out about something.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked.

She sighed. "Glen dumped me last night."

"Oh..." I said, completely taken aback. "I didn't even realize you guys were still seeing each other. You like, never talk about him."

"It just wasn't very serious, so there wasn't a lot to talk about. It's not like I've been fucking a teacher or something."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Well, it must have been sort of serious, since you were thinking about having sex with him. I'm guessing that you didn't though, since you haven't told me."

"That's why he dumped me, because I wouldn't have sex with him."

I was speechless for a few seconds. "You... but you almost had sex with me."

"Yeah, but that's different."

"How's that different? You're obviously ready to have sex, and after our unsuccessful attempt, I assumed that you'd eventually do it with Glen."

"You assumed wrong," she almost whispered.

"Well then, what was the problem? I mean, Glen's a cute guy-"

"I wasn't in love him," Daphne blurted out.

"But you-" I began to say before it hit me.

Oh no.

"Daph... are you..."

"Just forget it, okay?" she insisted, sounding as if she was starting to cry. "I gotta go."

She hung up on me before I could say anything else.

Well, fuck me.

I was in love with a man who was so scared of loving me that he was willing to move almost 400 miles away to get away from me, and then I had just learned that my best friend, who I almost fucked had it not been for my malfunctioning equipment, thought she was in love with me.

I tried to call Daphne again, but she wouldn't pick up the phone. I figured she was too embarrassed to answer, so I left her alone.

The next couple of days went by in a blur. My mother roped me into going to the homeless shelter that Friday to wrap presents that would be given out to needy families on Christmas Eve, which was that coming Sunday. I promised her that I would help pass the presents out on Sunday afternoon, since it was what we always did every year as a family. She didn't know whether my father would make an appearance, but we both hoped that he wouldn't.

I thought about calling Emmett that evening to see if he and Ted were planning a trip to Babylon but decided that I was not in the mood for music and dancing. I also didn't know how I'd react if I saw Brian, wanting to avoid breaking down and crying in front of him again if at all possible.

I worked on Saturday, promising Debbie that I'd come to her house the next day for Christmas Eve dinner after I was done with my good deed at the homeless shelter. She was unsure if Brian would be there or not, since he was, according to Debbie, harder to get ahold of on the phone than the Pope. Everyone in the "family" had an open invitation to her home every Christmas Eve to exchange gifts and eat another Grassi/Novotny feast. Debbie said that Brian came over every year.

I looked at the front door every time I heard the bell over the door ring that day, not knowing whether I hoped it would be Brian coming in or hoped that it wouldn't be. Either way, he did not make an appearance. Ted and Emmett did, and I learned that Blake fell off the wagon and started using crystal meth again. He checked himself into rehab at Ted's insistence the previous day, but only stayed for a few hours before he took off.

I was almost ashamed of myself for being glad I wasn't the only one who was dealing with a wayward lover that would rather run than stay and deal with life.

Christmas Eve arrived, and I hadn't heard a peep from either Daphne or Brian in three days by that point. Daphne I could handle, but Brian was another story. I was nervous about seeing him but was going to try appealing to him one last time to change his mind about moving to New York.

I put on a red button-up and a pair of gray slacks that Brian had bought me before heading to the homeless shelter with Mom and Molly. Mom had noticed my outfit as we were putting on our coats, telling me I looked really "spiffy" and asked if my "rich boyfriend Emmett" bought it for me. I had almost forgotten about the Emmett Charade and quickly said yes, that he bought it for me at the Armani store for my birthday. I had to fight the tears that threatened to fall as I remembered the wonderful time Brian and I had over my birthday weekend.

The Chanders family also volunteered at the shelter on Christmas Eve, and I found Daphne there shortly after we arrived around eleven. She was working the carving station, holding a serving fork and a very large knife as she alternated carving ham and roast beef for the people standing in line.

Molly and I played Santa's Helpers, and it took me all of two seconds to realize that the man who was dressed up as Santa that year was none other than our father. Molly still believed in Santa, so I did not want to ruin it for her and the other children by being an asshole to this Santa. I stayed as far away from him as I could.

Once all the presents were passed out, I went over to the serving line to talk to Daphne. I put my hands in my pockets and slowly approached her as she was cutting some ham for an older woman.

"Hey Daph," I said.

"Hey," she replied, looking a bit tired as she focused on her carving job.

"Do you want me to take over carving for you?" I asked, extending an olive branch.

She looked up at me and inspected my clothes, which she knew were presents from Brian. "No, I wouldn't want you to ruin your fancy outfit."

I looked down at myself. "Yeah, minus the one suit I have, this is the most expensive outfit I own. It kind of makes me feel like an asshole, wearing it here today. Look, I don't want to upset you while you have potential murder weapons in your hands, but... are we okay? I hate having this weirdness between us, especially at Christmas."

The old lady waiting for the ham scowled at me. "Make up with your girlfriend on your own time, pal."

Daphne put a big piece of ham on the woman's plate, which made her happy enough to move on down the line.

"Yeah, we're okay," she said. "I shouldn't have said what I said the other day, or rather what I implied. It was stupid."

"No, it wasn't," I assured her.

I was the poster child of harboring feelings for someone who I had zero chance with; that is, until Brian had given me a glimmer of hope after he first kissed me and later made me fall in love with him, the bastard.

"I know that you love someone else and that I stand no chance," Daphne said, not appearing too sad about that. "I'm sure there's someone out there for me who will return my feelings. I'm happy that you found someone, because all I want is for you to be happy."

I was the exact opposite of happy with Brian at that moment, but I wasn't going to drop any bombs on her in such a public place.

"Thanks, Daph. I'm busy this evening, but I'll come over tomorrow to bring you your present."

I had gotten Daphne a gift card to the music store in the mall with enough money on it to buy two CDs. A gift card was an impersonal present and maybe even a bit lazy, but Daphne's musical taste was so eclectic I knew that she would enjoy picking out her own CDs.

She smiled at me and nodded. "Yeah, we're going to Aunt Tonya's tonight, but I should be home all day tomorrow."

I went to the restroom a little bit later and found my father, still dressed as Santa, coming out of one of the stalls. He was having trouble with his costume, but I didn't offer to help him.

"Santa," I said before walking over to one of the urinals.

"Hey, son," he replied. "How's school going?"

There were few moments in life more awkward than talking to another man while you were trying to take a piss, especially when the other man was your estranged father who was dressed up as fucking Santa Claus.

"Fine."

He went over to a sink to wash his hands. "Did you make straight A's again this semester?"

"I don't know. We haven't been mailed our report cards yet."

"Well, be sure to send a copy of it to Dartmouth after you receive it."

I finished my business and flushed the urinal. "Thanks for the reminder, but I applied to other colleges too, if you recall."

"It's a given that you'll get accepted to Dartmouth, Justin," Dad said in a stern voice. "You'll probably even get early acceptance. I was in Sigma Phi Epsilon with the current dean back when he and I went to Dartmouth, you know."

Yeah, I knew. He had only told me that about a dozen times over the past two years since we had started making my college plans. He kept repeating it as if that was the only way I would be accepted to Dartmouth, because he was fraternity brothers with the current dean, not because of my nearly perfect grades and high SAT score.

I wasn't going to argue with him, although all I wanted to do at that moment was punch him right in his curly white-bearded face. I quickly washed my hands and left the room without saying another word.

Mom let me borrow the car that evening to go to Debbie's house, and I arrived a little after five o'clock. I looked around for the Jeep as I searched for a parking spot but didn't see it parked anywhere nearby.

I knocked on Debbie's front door, and Michael answered it a few seconds later.

"Ugh, it's you," he said.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Michael," I said in a fake cheery voice as I walked in.

I scanned the room and saw that Vic, Emmett, and Lindsay were prepping food in the kitchen. Melanie was sitting in a chair holding her baby daughter, who I had not seen before that day. Ted and Ben were sitting on the couch watching Scrooged on the TV.

"Don't you have your own family to be with today?" Michael asked me as Debbie came over to take my coat.

"He does, but Sunshine is a part of this family, too," Debbie informed her son before giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Jesus, you and Brian with that fucking nickname..." Michael mumbled as he went to sit on the couch next to Ben.

"I gave him that nickname," Debbie said.

"When have you heard Brian call me ‘Sunshine'?" I asked at the same time she spoke.

"He calls you ‘Sunshine' every time he talks about you," Emmett said as he walked over to hug me.

"He does?" I asked, my face nearly cracking from smiling so wide.

"Well, he usually calls you ‘Justin,' but sometimes ‘Sunshine' will slip out," Emmett clarified. "He can't get enough of that beautiful Sunshine Smile of yours."

Michael barked out a laugh. "Well, apparently he could or else he wouldn't have left."

I suddenly got lightheaded. "Wh... what?"

Emmett bit his bottom lip. "He left, sweetie."

"What do you mean ‘he left?'" I asked, not wanting to believe it.

"He means that Brian packed up his shit and went to Manhattan," Michael snarled at me.

I looked around the room, finding that everyone was looking at me in pity. I was definitely the last to hear this news.

"He's driving a moving van to Manhattan as we speak," Emmett said, putting his arm around me. "We all helped him pack up his loft over the past couple of days. He found a nice-looking loft for rent online in TriBeCa, and he's hoping the owner will let him buy it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked him.

"He told us not to and threatened to kick our ass if any of us did. I'm so sorry."

"But..." I sputtered, tears rolling down my cheeks. "But it's Christmas Eve!"

"He came over here this morning to say goodbye and I begged him to stay until Tuesday," Debbie said. "He knows some guys in the city who are going to help him move into his new place tomorrow."

"On Christmas Day?" I asked, surprised at how shrill my voice sounded.

Debbie shrugged. "Apparently some people don't care that it's a holiday."

"It's all your fucking fault!" Michael screamed at me, causing Jenny Rebecca to start crying.

"Thanks a lot," Melanie grumbled at him, standing up from her chair to take the baby upstairs away from the noise.

"Sorry, Mel," Michael called out to her before turning back to me. "Brian said that he was leaving because of the job at HarperCollins, but he wouldn't have even looked for another job in the first place if it hadn't been for you."

"Really, it's for the best, Justin," Ben said. "It was only a matter of time before the school found out about the two of you. He probably would have lost his teaching license and then would have had no choice but to find another job. There would have been a media firestorm, mostly due to the fact that you're two men. Both of your reputations would have been ruined. At least he has the choice of coming back and teaching again, if he wants."

"He's not coming back, as long as this little shit is still here," Michael said, pointing a finger at me. "You know, everything was fine before you barged your way into his life. I never thought him messing around with you was a good idea, but I hoped that after he fucked you, he would throw you away like a condom in the trash afterwards. But no, you had to make him fall in love with you and your ‘tight, juicy ass,' as he refers to it."

My hands involuntarily grasped my chest, as if my pounding heart was about to explode out of it. "Did he tell you that he loved me?"

Michael curled his lip in disgust. "No, but there's no other explanation for his insanity."

"Like I've been telling you for weeks, sweetie, it's obvious that he's head over heels," Emmett said. "He's just too scared to admit it, because heaven forbid he admit that he has a heart like the rest of us fools."

"I had a chat with him at Woody's last night and asked him if he loved you," Debbie said. "While he didn't say ‘yes,' he didn't deny it. I told him he needed to tell you before he took off, but he obviously didn't. His family never taught him how to love, and no matter how much we've tried to over the years, he wouldn't let us. But with your persistence and sweetness, you taught him what love is."

"The student taught the teacher," Emmett said with a smile.

I wasn't exactly surprised to hear any of this, but having it confirmed by Brian's closest friends made my heart sicker than it already was. Looking back, Brian showed me that he loved me when he took me to Manhattan with him for my birthday. Hell, he showed me even before then, like the day he and I made out in the Jeep to Journey's greatest hits after he was supposed to have broken up with me after his suspension following the Hobbs fight had been lifted. Or before that, when Brian chose to have me accompany him to the bowling alley when he wanted to play a game to honor his father. He wouldn't have done that if I was nothing more than a toy for him to play with.

The only thing I could think to do at that moment was walk into the kitchen, grab the phone, and call Brian's cell. It rang four times before he picked up.

"Yeah?" he said. I could hear "Free Bird" by Lynyrd Skynyrd playing in the background.

"Brian?" I replied, not knowing what to say to him.

He paused for a few seconds. "Justin?"

Just hearing him say my name made me smile.

"Yeah, it's me."

I heard a click, and the phone went silent.

"Brian?" I said, my voice shaking. "Brian?"

Everyone was looking at me.

"He hung up," I sadly informed them.

Debbie and Vic insisted I stay for dinner, which looked and smelled delicious, but I soon left. I was way too upset to sit through a meal and watch while the others opened presents. It was supposed to be a joyous gathering, and any joy I had was gone.

The following week was the most miserable of my life. I spent most of Christmas Day hiding in my room, minus the time spent opening presents with Mom and Molly and later taking Daphne her gift card. She gave me a blue and gray scarf she had knitted for me, a craft her late grandmother had taught her as a child. I didn't want to bum anyone out on the holiday, so I put on an Oscar-worthy performance as someone who did not just have his heart ripped out of his chest and dragged behind a moving van all the way to Manhattan.

When Mom asked me the day after Christmas why I looked so miserable, I told her that Emmett had broken up with me. She tried to be sympathetic, but she did a poor job at hiding her happiness that the flamboyant queen she never approved of and I were history.

I worked a couple of shifts at the diner that week, which was a nice distraction but only temporary. Otherwise, I watched a ton of movies and TV, read a few books, and cried a lot. Daphne and her family took their yearly skiing trip to Vermont, so I was on my own. We talked on the phone a couple of times, and I pretended that everything was fine so as not to ruin her vacation.

I tried to call Brian a few days after he left but was told by an automated message that the wireless number I was trying to reach had been disconnected. My only assumption was that he had changed his number so that I couldn't call him anymore. I called Emmett to see if he had Brian's new number, and he said he did but that he was not allowed to share it with me by threat of disembowelment by Brian.

Daphne's family returned from Vermont on the afternoon of New Year's Eve. It was a tradition that I would come over to her house and watch Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV.

We were snuggled up in her bed as we watched the New Year's festivities in Times Square just before midnight. I couldn't help but remember how Brian and I had walked around Times Square just a couple of weeks before. I had never been happier than I was during that weekend.

I didn't realize I was crying until Daphne asked me what was wrong.

"Brian... he's gone," I whimpered before telling her everything.

Happy fucking New Year.

The new semester started on January 3rd. It felt just plain wrong to walk into the building the first day back knowing that Brian wasn't going to be there. My biggest fear was that I would be put in Mr. Horner's English classes where I had earned a D with him previously, but I was luckily placed with a different teacher. Other than that, it was business as usual back at glorious St. James Academy.

To distract from my shattered heart and almost crippling depression, I threw myself into my schoolwork and part-time job. The drama and book clubs were reassigned to two different teachers, and I quit both clubs since Brian had been the only reason I joined in the first place. I would instead spend my Monday and Thursday evenings at the diner where I had become a server and was earning pretty good tips. I think it had more to do with my looks than my serving ability, but whatever.

I checked the mail one day towards the end of January after coming home from school and found a thick, flat envelope addressed to me from Dartmouth College. I knew before opening it that it had to be my early acceptance letter, since it would be ridiculous for them to send a thick stack of paperwork to rejected applicants.

Sure enough, once I got up to my room and opened the envelope, I discovered that I indeed was accepted to the school. While most students would be thrilled, I felt the exact opposite. I knew when my parents and I toured the campus the previous year and had later applied to Dartmouth that I didn't want to attend the school, but I only applied because my father all but ordered me to.

I stuffed the paperwork back into the envelope and shoved it under my mattress.

The letter I was waiting to receive was an acceptance or rejection from New York University in Manhattan. Even before Brian moved, NYU had been my personal first choice. Manhattan was a great city with tons of opportunities for writers, and the NYU campus was beautiful. Of course now that Brian lived in Manhattan, conveniently in the TriBeCa neighborhood only a stone's throw away from the campus, I hoped I would be accepted there.

My second choice was Carnegie Mellon due to it being located in Pittsburgh and where Daphne wanted to go. I had also applied to Pennsylvania State and the University of Pittsburgh as backups, along with Brown University where my mother had attended and earned a useless degree in Liberal Arts. As recommended by my school counselor, I called to confirm with every school that they had all received my applications, which they did.

As January turned into February, more acceptance packets started arriving. Carnegie Mellon, Penn State, Pitt, and Brown all wanted me. Daphne had also received her acceptance to Carnegie Mellon the same day that I did, and she was absolutely ecstatic.

Finally on the first Friday of March, I found a thick envelope from NYU in the mailbox. I hardly even made it into the foyer before throwing my backpack down on the floor and tearing the big envelope open. I cried tears of joy as I read the acceptance letter and could almost feel Brian's strong arms wrapped around me.

My mother, who was working to earn her realtor's license by that point, was in the kitchen starting on dinner.

"Mom!" I yelled at her, making her jump.

She turned around and saw my excitement. "What happened?"

I held the packet with both hands over my head and shook it. "NYU, Mom! NYU! I got in!"

Mom knew how much I wanted to go to that school, so she was happy for me. "That's great, honey... but you know your father will never pay for you to go there."

I groaned in frustration, the wind suddenly being let out of my sails. "Why do you have to ruin this for me? I've been waiting for this day for months!"

"I'm sorry, but it's a fact," she informed me. "He wants you to go to Dartmouth. I'm surprised that you haven't heard from them by now."

I looked down at the floor. "I did... back in January."

"Why didn't you say anything? You know how much your father-"

"Fuck him!" I yelled. "I don't give a fuck what he wants! It's my life, not his! I am not going to Dartmouth and that's final!"

Mom blinked in disbelief at my language and tone. "Justin..."

I ran up to my room and slammed the door before pulling the Dartmouth packet out from under the mattress. It was childish, but I proceeded to pull the papers out of the envelope and tear them up, grunting like a wild animal as I did it. That helped my anger enough that I was able to sit down at my computer and type out a very polite letter to Dartmouth letting them know that I would not be attending their school during the fall semester. I planned to mail it to them the next day.

Mom knocked on my door an hour later to let me know that dinner was ready. I wanted to brood in my room a little while longer, but I was starving. My appetite was immediately lost when I walked downstairs and discovered that my father, who I had not seen or talked to since Christmas Eve, was sitting on the living room couch with my mother.

"Justin," he said, indicating with a sweep of his arm that he wanted me to sit down on one of the armchairs.

I instead stayed where I was and crossed my arms over my chest. "You just had to call him, didn't you?"

Mom looked at me with a guilty expression. "I'm sorry, honey."

"Your mother informed me that you received early acceptance to Dartmouth, but you say you're not going," Dad calmly stated.

I lifted my chin up. "That is correct."

He smirked before adding, "And you want to go to NYU instead."

"Yes," I confirmed, standing my ground.

My father sighed before standing up and walking over to me.

"Craig..." Mom said quietly, obviously concerned over what he may say or do to me.

I stood eye-to-eye with my father, steeling myself over the inevitable confrontation. I was not going to back down, no matter what.

Dad licked his lips and stated, "Justin, you are going to Dartmouth."

"Oh, really?" I asked in a smart-ass tone. "How exactly do you plan on making me go? I'm eighteen, and you can't tell me what to do anymore."

"Oh yes I damned well can," Dad claimed. "When it's my money paying for it, you will go to the school I tell you to go to."

"His college fund is his to do what he wants, Craig," Mom said.

"You mean the college fund that I have been contributing to his entire life? My money?"

"That money is for Justin," she said, her tone getting tougher.

"There is no fucking money, Jen!" he yelled at her.

Mom's jaw dropped. "What... what do you mean ‘there's no money'? What did you do with it?"

Dad put his hands on his hips and sighed. "I've been borrowing money from Justin and Molly's college funds to pay the bills. The store hasn't been doing very well over the past few years. It's nearly impossible to compete with the chain stores and make a profit. I've been bleeding money since we split, now that I'm paying for two households and for the lawyers."

"How much is left?" she asked.

"Maybe twenty thousand in each."

I had to sit down after hearing that.

Mom huffed out a breath. "Well then, how in the hell did you expect to pay for Justin to go to Dartmouth? One year costs over sixty thousand dollars alone, and it has to be paid in full before he starts in September."

He almost looked ashamed. "I was going to take a second mortgage out on the store and sell this house."

Mom looked up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. "Oh my God, Craig. When were you going to tell me about this? We're still going through divorce proceedings, and you are supposed to keep me and my lawyer informed of financial stuff."

"I know! Do you think I'm proud of this?" Dad asked, his voice cracking.

I looked at my father in disgust. "How could you do this to me? To us?"

Dad came to stand in front of me. "I'm taking care of it, son."

"Oh, bullshit!" Mom yelled. "If you can't afford things how they are now, how are you going to pay another mortgage on the store, one on your new house, and pay for wherever the hell you expect me and Molly to live? You'll still have to pay child support for her, and if you think you're getting out of paying me alimony, you're out of your fucking mind!"

I looked at my mother in surprise, as I had never seen her stand up to my father like that before.

Dad opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he sat back down on the couch.

After several seconds of silence, I decided to speak up. "Well, that's it, then. I guess I'm not going to college anywhere."

"Yes, you are, honey," Mom said to me. "We'll make it work, no matter what we have to do. Hopefully it's not too late to apply for loans and grants. You can go to Pitt or Carnegie Mellon, so we won't have to pay for campus housing."

I shook my head. "No. I'm going to New York, even if I can't go to NYU. Hell, I'll go to a community college there if I have to."

"What is so God damned important in New York?" Dad asked.

I was taken aback, unprepared for having to explain myself in that regard. "Uh... well, you know I want to be a writer, and New York is a writer's haven."

"You've said yourself that Carnegie Mellon has a great English program," Mom pointed out.

"I know, but maybe I can get a job at a magazine or something while I go to school in New York... get my foot in the door," I said, seemingly pulling that thought out of my ass.

Mom looked at me strangely. "Justin?"

I stared back at her. "What?"

"Why do you want to go to New York so badly?"

I started shaking a bit, knowing that I probably couldn't lie my way out of this.

"I know someone who lives there," I quietly answered.

"Who?" Mom asked.

I could feel tears threatening to fall, my hair-trigger emotions overtaking me as they often did. "Do you remember Brian Kinney, my old English teacher?"

"Of course I remember him. You told me that he wasn't at St. James anymore."

I blinked a few times, trying to keep calm. I hadn't seen or spoken to Brian in over two months, and I missed him so much sometimes I could hardly breathe. His absence had only made my feelings for him grow stronger, and my only goal was to graduate from St. James, get my ass to Manhattan even if I had to hitchhike, and throw myself at his mercy... if I could find him. I would probably have to say or do something drastic to pry his new address out of Debbie or Emmett.

"Yeah, he moved to Manhattan over Winter Break."

"So what?" my father asked. "How will he be any help?"

I tried to think of what to say next, but I cracked. I had been doing a good job over the past few months at controlling my sadness from Brian leaving me, but with my parents both looking at me like they were, I lost it.

"Um, he..." I choked out.

"Justin?" my mother repeated, confusion all over her face.

The jig was up.

I grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table, drying the tears that were now freely falling. "We..."

My parents were both alternating between looking at each other and at me.

I squished my face up and closed my eyes. "I want to go to New York to be with him."

"What do you mean ‘to be with him'?" Dad asked.

"Craig," my mother began hesitantly. "Justin is... honey, do you want to tell him?"

I looked at her and then at my father. "I'm gay, Dad."

His mouth slowly dropped open. "You're... what?"

I nodded. "You heard me."

While my father digested that news, my mother asked me, "Are you hoping to pursue some kind of relationship with Mr. Kinney? Is he gay, too?"

I nodded again. "Yeah... but-"

"What did he do to you?" my father suddenly yelled. "Did he touch you?"

As it often did when I cried, my nose started running like a faucet. I sniffled hard and said, "Yes, but only because I wanted him to. He only did what I begged him to do."

"What?" my father yelled, springing up from the couch. "I'm calling the police."

"Why?" I shrieked.

"You just told us that your teacher is a child molester, that's why!" he replied.

"He didn't molest me and I'm not a child!" I informed him. "We didn't have sex until I turned eighteen."

Sure, we did other things before that, but...

"You had sex with your teacher?" my mother asked, the full gravity of the situation hitting her.

"Yes! I love him and he loves me. That's why he quit St. James and moved to New York, so one day we could be together. He didn't want to get fired and lose his teaching license if we got caught."

That was mostly true...

Dad started walking to the phone sitting on one of the end tables, but I jumped up to stop him.

"No, Dad! Please!"

"He's not going to get away with this!"

"That's the last thing we need, for everyone to find out!" Mom said.

"Yeah," I said, almost shocked that she was taking my side. "And he doesn't even teach or live in this state anymore."

"We'll let the FBI take care of him, then," Dad said before picking up the phone.

"No!" I yelled, grabbing Dad's wrist and trying to take the phone from him.

Mom stood up and got between us. "Stop it!"

The three of us struggled, me trying to grab the phone and Mom trying to separate us. Dad got one of his arms free and slapped me hard across my face.

"You son of a bitch!" Mom yelled, launching herself at Dad.

She got in a few slaps of her own before I pulled her off of him. I have no idea why I did that, because I should have let her beat the shit out of him.

Mom and I fell onto the couch.

"Get out!" she screamed at Dad. "Get out of my house, Craig, now!"

Dad had a petrified look on his face, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. Who knows what shocked him more - that he had hit me or that Mom had hit him. Either way, there had never been an act of violence committed in our home before. Then again, no one ever questioned or stood up to Dad like that before.

"Get the fuck out of here!" I yelled, holding my trembling mother in my arms.

Dad took a few breaths before turning to leave. Before he walked out the door, he left us with these parting words: "I want this disgusting little pervert out of this house Jennifer, or I will get an emergency order to get full custody of Molly."

Once Dad slammed the door behind him, Mom started sobbing on my shoulder.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she whispered into my ear.

"Yeah," I answered. At least he didn't punch me like in the last fight I had been in.

"How... how did this happen?"

I didn't know exactly which "this" she was referring to, so I didn't even try to answer.

"It's a good thing Molly is out at a slumber party tonight, huh?" I said, in an attempt to find a silver lining.

She started crying even harder after hearing Molly's name, apparently recalling my father's threat.

We sat there together and held each other for a little while. Mom eventually calmed down and pulled away to look at me.

"Your cheek is a little bit pink. I'll get you a cold washcloth."

I followed her into the kitchen and let her nurse my injury. She held the wet cloth to my face, her eyes sparkling in the overhead light.

"Do you think Dad will call the police when he gets home?" I asked.

"I don't know. Like you said, there may not be anything the police can do now. Did you start seeing Mr. Kinney after you and Emmett broke up?"

I sighed. "There was never a ‘Me and Emmett'. We're just friends. I was actually seeing Brian that whole time; any time I said I was going out with Emmett, I was actually with Brian. Emmett and Brian have been friends for a few years."

She thought about that for a moment. "But you said you didn't have sex with him until you were eighteen, and I thought you and Emmett started dating back in November before your birthday."

I figured I may as well tell her everything, leaving out the yucky details. "We did other stuff before that, but not actual sex. The age of consent in Pennsylvania is sixteen, so we weren't doing anything illegal. Against school policy, sure, but..."

She closed her eyes. "Please tell me that the two of you were safe."

"Of course we were, Mom. Brian would never put me in danger."

"Justin, why did you have to do this with a teacher? Sure, he's really good looking, but..."

I chuckled. "He's amazing, Mom. He's the most brilliant, beautiful, complicated person I've ever met. He intrigues me and infuriates me like no one else ever has. We didn't mean for this to happen... okay, he didn't mean for it to happen, because he fought me every step of the way. I wanted him, and I did everything in my power to get him."

Mom sat the washcloth on the counter. "Wow. You've always been a persistent, hard-headed thing when you want something."

"But now he's gone, and I'm going to do everything I can to get him back. All I want is to be with him, and no man, woman, or Dad is going to stop me."

I went into work the next morning at the diner. Being a Saturday with rather nice weather, we were extremely busy. I was able to get away after the lunch rush died down to take out the trash and have a cigarette.

Debbie came outside when I was nearly ready to go back in.

"I'll be back in a minute. I just needed to have a quick smoke," I said to her.

She waved her hand. "That's fine, baby. Betty just came in, so you can go ahead and take your lunch break. I can cash out your open tables for you."

I nodded before flicking my cigarette butt away. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" Debbie asked me. "I know you've been really depressed since Brian left, but you look even more down in the dumps than usual."

I told her about what had happened between me and my parents the previous evening, including how I had come out to my father, revealed my relationship with Brian, and my father's threat of taking Molly away from my mother if I continued to live in the house.

"That's awful, Sunshine," Debbie said. "That father of yours sounds like a genuine son of a bitch. Any man who is low enough to slap his own child should be beheaded."

I chuckled. "Thanks."

"Besides, what the fuck gives him the right to say where you can live? You're eighteen."

"It's still technically his house, and he may try to convince a judge that I'm some kind of sexual deviant who shouldn't be around his precious daughter."

She stepped closer to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Go home and tell your mother that you've found a new place to live."

I looked at her in confusion. "Where the fuck am I supposed to go?"

"To my house, of course. Michael's old bedroom has been empty for almost a decade, minus his old furniture and a trunk with miscellaneous stuff in it that he refuses to haul over to his apartment."

"I couldn't put you out like that, Deb," I insisted. "Besides, I wouldn't have a way to school."

"You could borrow my car. It's not the nicest thing on four wheels, but it runs."

By the end of that weekend, I became a resident of the Grassi/Novotny house. My mother wasn't too happy about me moving out, but I agreed with Debbie that it was for the best. Along with Dad not being able to follow up on his threat of taking Molly, it would save Mom money on utilities and grocery bills.

Someone else who was not happy about my moving into Michael's old room was Michael. Debbie had called him on that Saturday evening to have him take his trunk and a few other personal items that he had left behind when he moved out. He whined and ranted about that little shit weaseling his way in here, but Debbie quickly shut him down and said that he had zero say in the matter.

I was sitting at Debbie's kitchen table during the exchange with a shit-eating grin on my face.

"Don't worry," I said to Michael. "I promise I'll take good care of it."

He snarled at me. "You better, because I'm going to do unscheduled checks. If anything's missing or damaged..."

"How about you go upstairs and clear out all of your stuff so Sunshine can move the rest of his stuff in," Debbie suggested. "He'll need the closet space. I also need to explain the rules of the house to the newest member of our family."

"Rules?" I asked before Michael got up and stomped up the stairs.

She nodded. "Starting with: no bringing tricks home after midnight."

I snorted. "You won't have to worry about that, Deb. I don't plan on bring tricks here ever, because I don't trick. Maybe my friend Daphne from time to time, but I can assure you that nothing will ever happen there."

"Well alright, suit yourself. Rule number two: I know you're probably saving up your tips from the diner for college, so I don't expect you to pay me a dime. In exchange, I'd like you to do some chores around the house."

"Are you sure? Because I could pay-"

"Nope," she said. "You can pay by doing the laundry, cleaning the bathroom, helping with dinner, and mowing the lawn."

Although I had never run a lawn mower in my life, due to my parents always having lawncare service, I agreed. I also wasn't much of a cook, but I knew I could learn under Debbie and Vic.

"And rule number three: lock the door when you're jerking off. As cute as your are, I don't want to walk in and see that. I went through that mess enough with Michael. I don't want Vic walking in on you and having a heart attack, either."

I burst out laughing. "I'll try to remember."

I was in my second period class on Monday morning when I was called to Dr. Perkins's office. When I got there, I found my father sitting in one of the two chairs in front of the dean's desk.

"Have a seat, Justin," Dr. Perkins instructed.

I didn't want to be in the same room with the son of a bitch, but I did what I was told and took the seat next to Dad.

"Your father told me a very interesting story," Dr. Perkins said.

I met Dad's eyes for a moment before looking back at Dr. Perkins.

"He did, did he?" I replied calmly.

Dr. Perkins gave me a single head nod. "Do you know what that story may have entailed?"

"Something about me and a former instructor at this school?"

Again, another single head nod. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

I inhaled and exhaled slowly before I began. "I had a relationship... of a sexual nature with Brian Kinney."

Dr. Perkins closed his eyes for a moment. "Yes, that is what your father said."

"But we didn't have sex until after I turned eighteen, and Brian doesn't even live in this state anymore," I said quickly. "He's not even a teacher... in fact, I haven't even spoken to him since he moved away."

"Can't... isn't there something you can do?" my father chimed in. "I mean, this man, who was in your employ and you entrusted to teach the children at this school, not entice them to-"

"He didn't entice me to do anything," I said. "It's not like Brian is a sexual predator or something. I went after him."

Dr. Perkins flinched and looked at my father. "Whatever happened between Mr. Kinney and your son is very unfortunate, but what is also unfortunate is that I no longer have any authority over Mr. Kinney and therefore cannot do anything. Like your son said, he is out of the state and no longer teaches. What happened in the past is in the past."

"But he abused his authority!" my father said, standing up. "Certainly-"

"Sit down, Mr. Taylor," Dr. Perkins barked.

My father sat, and I had to hold back a laugh at what a bitch he was.

"Now, I'm not a police officer, so I don't know if there is anything that could be done at a criminal level."

Dad shook his head. "I called a friend of mine from the police department the other night. He said that because Justin is now an adult..."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Dr. Perkins clicked his tongue. "I do know that there was an incident like this at another private school in the state a few years back, between a male instructor and an eighteen year-old female senior. Her parents actually approved of their relationship for whatever reason, but another student reported it. The instructor was transferred to another school in the area and the student was expelled."

"Then I want him expelled," my father said quickly.

"You want me to expel your son?" Dr. Perkins asked in surprise.

"Yes!" Dad yelled. "He needs to be taught a lesson!"

Dr. Perkins tilted his head to the side, as if he were considering it.

I couldn't believe how quickly my next thought came to me. "If you expel me for this, I will contact the media and tell them that you expelled me after finding out that I'm gay."

His mouth dropped open at my audacity.

"There's a rumor going around that you're thinking about running for mayor next year," I continued. "Surely you wouldn't want bad publicity like that going around. I imagine protests by local gay rights groups in front of the school and your home. Hell, it may even make the national news."

While Dr. Perkins mulled that over, my father decided to try to one-up me.

"If you don't expel him, I will contact the media and tell them about Justin and this Brian Kinney's relationship; that you did nothing to punish either one of them. I could even claim that you knew about it while it was happening and did nothing to stop it. I imagine you'd be running on the Republican ticket, and that would look really bad to those conservative voters."

Dr. Perkins looked between the both of us with pure horror on his face. "Look... gentleman, nobody has to contact the media about anything. It will only hurt the reputation of this school, which is my main priority over any personal ventures I may enter into. Certainly we can come to some kind of compromise?"

Oh, he was good.

"Like what?" Dad asked him.

"Um..." Dr. Perkins thought for a few moments. "What if Justin were banned from going to the prom and walking in the graduation ceremony?"

That didn't sound like too harsh of a punishment, at least compared to being expelled just two months before I graduated. I wasn't even planning on going to prom, anyway. Graduation ceremonies were boring as hell and always went on for way too long.

I didn't want to have the "punishment" offered by Dr. Perkins to get any worse, however...

"Oh no," I said, injecting sadness into my voice. "Dr. Perkins..."

"Fine," my father said after seeing how much missing out on prom and graduation upset me. "That sounds fair."

Ha... suckers.

Being just a short walk from the diner allowed me to increase my hours and become a full-time employee, which then allowed me to earn more money to save up. Some of the money went into the gas tank of Debbie's 1976 Chevrolet Caprice and towards food, but my bank account was steadily growing.

I also started going to the gym on Liberty Avenue when I wasn't at school, doing homework, or working at the diner. Membership was really cheap, and Emmett had previously pouted about rarely getting to see me because I never went out to Woody's or Babylon anymore. I started taking spinning classes three days a week with Emmett along with doing some light lifting in the weight room two days a week. I was sadly out of shape and quit smoking cold turkey in order to improve my breathing during cardio. I found after a few days that I didn't even miss the cigarettes that much. Even though I had started to eat more, I dropped eight pounds in the first three weeks on top of the ten I had already lost after Brian left.

A few days before Spring Break, which was during the last full week of March, I had gotten the mail and found that Debbie had received a birthday card. In the top left corner of the envelope was an address label with Brian's name on it. I wrote down the address before going up to my room to look it up online, finding that the address was for a building in the TriBeCa neighborhood that had been recently converted into condos and lofts.

I did a little dance around the room, since I finally knew where Brian lived. No one would be threatened with disembowelment for telling me, either.

I knew exactly what I had to do during my week off from school. I bought a round-trip Greyhound bus ticket for forty dollars to New York City, leaving on the Friday evening of the last day of school before break began. I would come back the following Saturday. I told everyone minus Daphne that I was going to Miami with the Chanders family, and she was the only person who knew where I would actually be going. She was all for it, knowing how miserable I had been without Brian.

It was a twelve hour trip through the night, since we stopped four times to pick up and drop off passengers along the way. The bus also barely got over fifty on the interstate, even being passed by slow-ass semi trucks. I slept maybe a total of one hour because of the stops and because I was so excited that I would be seeing Brian soon.

We arrived at the Port Authority Bus Terminal on Eighth Avenue shortly after eight AM. I then took a train to Brian's neighborhood and used a map I had printed off of the internet to find his building.

I stood outside of the nine-story building for a couple of minutes, suddenly very nervous about getting to see Brian again. I didn't know if he'd be home, and I was also afraid that he might not be alone. I finally got the guts to ring the bell outside for his loft, Unit 8C. I rang it again a minute later after there was no answer.

Finally, I heard Brian's voice come over the intercom. "What?" he croaked, clearly just having woken up.

I pushed the button and said, "Hey... it's Justin."

There were several seconds of silence, and I wondered for a moment if he had heard me.

"Justin?" he suddenly repeated.

"Yeah," I replied.

"How the fuck did you find where I lived?" he snapped.

"Aww, I've missed you, too, honey," I said back to him.

"Seriously, who told you where I lived?"

This was not going well. "Uh, actually you kind of did. I found the envelope to the birthday card you mailed to Deb."

I pictured that he was berating himself, swearing that he was never going to give anyone a birthday card ever again.

I hoped that he would let me in so we could talk face-to-face instead of having a full conversation over the intercom system. Plus, it looked like it was about to start raining and I didn't have an umbrella. After what felt like hours but was actually seconds, I heard a buzzing noise immediately followed by the click of the front door unlocking.

I pulled the door open and all but ran down the hallway to the elevator. The ride up to the eighth floor felt like it took forever. Once the elevator car finally made it, I stepped out and found that Brian was waiting for me in his open doorway down the hall.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, which were hanging low on his hips. If it was possible, he looked even more gorgeous than he had the last time I saw him, despite the scowl on his face. He may have even put a little bit more muscle onto his lean frame.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked.

I approached him slowly and forced a smile. "You know me, I love New York. I figured with next week being Spring Break and all..."

He exhaled with a low groan in his throat. "Well, you came all this way, so you may as well come in."

I walked into his loft, which was absolutely breathtaking. His old loft in Pittsburgh had been amazing, but it was a dumpster compared to this new one. It had an open floor plan like his last one, but it was two levels. The living room had four floor-to-ceiling windows offering a great view of the neighborhood. His white furniture looked wonderful in it. There was a spiral staircase in the living room leading up to the second level, which was where I guessed the bedroom was located.

"How did you get here?" he asked me as he walked toward his massive kitchen that was fit for a chef. I knew that it was wasted on him, since he never cooked or bought any groceries.

"Bus," I said as I looked around and followed after him. "Wow, this place is really fucking nice."

"For what I paid for it, it sure as fuck better be."

"Did you buy it?"

He nodded. "I talked the owner down several thousand, but I still took a big hit to my bank account. I paid a good chunk of it down and have a mortgage for the rest. My old loft hasn't sold yet, but I currently have a potential buyer for Babylon."

I couldn't help but feel happy that his loft was still on the market, since it was very hard for me to imagine anyone but Brian living there.

"I haven't even been to Babylon since you've left," I told him. "It just doesn't feel right going there when I know you won't be there."

He rolled in his lips for a moment before he began to make a pot of coffee. "The clubs are awesome here... and the guys, woo."

I eyeballed the second level. "Did you bring anyone back here last night?"

"I made it an early evening."

I had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"How's your new job going?" I asked, not knowing what the fuck else to talk about.

He shrugged. "It's alright. Sometimes it doesn't feel much different from teaching, since I sit at my desk reading and editing stories all day, wielding my mighty red pen. A lot of them are pure shit, and I could swear some of them were written by actual high school students."

"Maybe some were. What about your book, how's that going?"

"It's going very well. I should have a finished first draft soon."

"Will it be published under your real name or Ace Morgan?"

"Mr. Morgan will make his grand return to the world of homoerotic fiction, like a phoenix rising from the ashes."

"What's the book about?"

Brian walked over to me and sighed. "You'll find out when you read it."

Before I could say or ask anything else, he grabbed me behind my neck and started kissing me. I dropped my duffel bag, which I had been carrying on my left shoulder, to the floor so I could wrap my arms around him. We started stumbling towards the living room, our lips never breaking before we dropped to the floor on his furry white area rug.

Brian stripped off my jacket, t-shirt, and jeans as he ravished me with his lips and tongue. I had kicked off my shoes to help expedite the process. His hands felt like fire as he ran them over my cool skin.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" he suddenly asked.

I lifted my head to look down at myself, not seeing anything wrong. "What?"

"You look... great. Have you been working out?"

I smiled, thrilled that he had noticed the subtle changes to my body. "I have been, in fact."

He let out a growl before attacking my nipples, bathing my chest with his saliva. I soon lost my boxer briefs and socks, and he started sucking me off right there on his living room floor.

Brian only had to deepthroat my cock for a few seconds before I shot my load, the sounds of my pleasure echoing off the walls.

"That... holy shit," I panted.

No one had touched me since he and I last had sex three months before, so any sexual contact other than my right hand would have been magnificent. That was, however, probably the best blowjob he had ever given me.

Brian stood up and scooped my boneless body off of the floor. He tossed me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing and carried me up the spiral staircase. I soon discovered that yes indeed, his bedroom was on the second level of the loft.

He carried me into the room and deposited me onto the bed that I had missed almost as much as I had missed him.

My eyes roved around the room as he dropped his pants and climbed on top of me.

"This looks nice," I said before he started kissing me again.

If the week after Brian had left Pittsburgh had been the worst of my life, then the week I spent with him in Manhattan was without a doubt the best. The most accurate way of describing it would be in two words: Fuck Fest.

Brian and I spent a glorious weekend together at his loft fucking, napping, fucking, eating, fucking, napping... and fucking again. He only put on clothes to answer the door for food deliveries, otherwise we were always naked and usually in bed. We occasionally talked between fucking, napping, and eating, and I told him about everything that had been happening in my life since he had left.

He wasn't exactly happy when I revealed how I had broken down and told my parents about our relationship.

"I don't know what happened. They were sitting there practically demanding to know why I want to go to NYU, and I cracked under the pressure."

"Why do you want to go to NYU?" Brian asked, although he knew it was so I could be close to him.

In lieu of an actual answer, I gave him a kiss. "Don't worry, though. The cops can't do anything and Dr. Perkins won't do anything, to save the reputation of the school and himself. We're safe. As ‘punishment,' I'm not allowed to go to prom or the graduation ceremony, but I don't care about those. Mom seems to be a little bit disturbed by the fact that her sweet baby boy fucked a teacher, but she doesn't hold it against me. She's seen you, so she understands. My father on the other hand... I already knew that he was a homophobic prick, and he'll never approve of my lifestyle."

"Fuck ‘im," Brian said. "You owe it to yourself to live your life as you want to live it, and to be happy despite what he wants and how he feels. If I ended up doing what my old man wanted me to do, I'd be fucking miserable. Hell, I probably would have killed myself by now. I always say that the best revenge is to live your life to the absolute fullest and become a big, fat, fucking success. Homophobic assholes hate successful queers. You'll feel even more successful if you're able to make something out of your life without his help."

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, I'm going to need someone's help, because I have no money for college. My only hope now is to work and wait to go to school until I'm twenty-four, which is the earliest that I could apply for financial aid without my parents. I'm not going to let my mom go into debt to send me to college, and I'll never make enough money to pay for it on my own."

"Luckily my parents were fucking broke and my old man was a veteran, so I was able to go to school for free," he said as he wrapped his arms around me. "It would be a tragedy if someone as brilliant as you wasn't able to go to college until your mid-twenties. We only get dumber as we get older."

I snuggled closer to him. "Maybe I'll win the lottery... or find a sugar daddy who will pay my tuition."

That particular conversation ended when our next round of fucking began.

We went to a dance club in Chelsea on that Sunday night. Despite it being a "school night," the place was packed. It was a lot like Babylon, just... more. Bigger, louder, and even more sweaty men. I was worried that Brian would drop me for the first hot guy that gave him the eye, but he never left my side. He literally couldn't keep his hands off of me the entire time we were there, as if he didn't want anyone to think for even a second that I was available. We danced, drank, and fucked in the backroom. That was the first time Brian had topped me in public, and I loved it. We even had a little audience that seemed to enjoy watching our performance.

Brian had to go into work every day that week, since he was still a new employee and hadn't earned any vacation time yet. I spent most of my time alone at his loft sleeping (more accurately, recovering from all of the fucking we were doing), watching TV, or playing on his computer. I also read Brian's copy of Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis, which I had never heard of before but really enjoyed. I ventured outside a few times to go to Central Park, the Public Library, and to the store to stock up on actual groceries so I could cook some simple meals for us.

He normally stopped by the gym after work each day before coming home, but he picked me up on that Wednesday so I could come with him that evening as his guest. I had gotten used to working out five days a week, and jogging on his treadmill at the loft was not enough. Brian said that he could not find a gym anywhere in the city that specifically catered to gay people, unlike the gym back home on Liberty Avenue. The one he joined in Chelsea was very nice and, according to him, was frequented by a lot of gay men.

We spotted each other during our workout, though of course he lifted much heavier weights than I did. I had never seen Brian lift weights before, and damn was he sexy as he sweated and grunted through his sets. After we were done, we showered together in a private stall, and I couldn't help but drop to my knees and suck him off. He returned the favor before we left.

I spent the afternoon of my last full day in Manhattan taking a tour of NYU. I had gone once before during the previous October when my parents and I were exploring all of the colleges I had applied to, but I wanted to go and see the college by myself. Walking around the beautiful campus made me want to go even more, and I knew I was only torturing myself by going on the tour in the first place.

Brian came home shortly after I had returned to the loft from the college. He could tell I was bummed over something and when I told him why, he fucked me over the back of the couch to make me feel better, sweetheart that he was.  

Once we were finished, Brian told me to put on something nice so we could go out for dinner. I put on the red sweater and gray slacks I had worn on Christmas Eve. We hadn't gone out to eat at all that entire week, so I was taken by surprise. I asked him where we were going, but he told me I would find out when we got there.

We took a cab to Pier 40 on the Hudson River, where we soon began to board a large yacht.

"I hope you don't get seasick," Brian said as we walked up the ramp to get on the yacht.

"I've been on three cruises and my dad owns a small sailboat."

Brian scoffed in disgust. "Rich people..."

I discovered that the yacht offered dinner cruises* around the harbor. We were shown to a table on the upper deck right before the yacht was untied from the dock and our cruise began.

"This is so fancy," I said as I looked at the menu. "I didn't think you'd be into this sort of thing."

"One of the guys at work recommended it."

I smiled. "I think this is the first real date you've ever taken me on."

"Don't tell anyone," Brian said sternly. "You'll ruin my image."

We shared an appetizer of crab cakes before being served our entrees. I had ordered filet mignon with mashed potatoes and Brian had salmon with fingerling potatoes. We shared bites of each other's meal, unable to decide which was better. We finished off with dessert, which Brian actually consumed in its entirety. He ordered a piece of angel food cake with raspberries while I had a decadent piece of chocolate mousse cake. He declined a bite of my chocolate cake, so I didn't eat any of his angel food cake.

Once dinner was finished, we got up and slowly walked around the yacht. The Manhattan skyline was of course incredible to look at from the water, and the yacht took us by the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and finally the Brooklyn Bridge before turning around to return to the West Village on the other side of the city.

We stopped by the dance floor at the back of the yacht where there were several couples dancing. We spent a little time standing by the railing, alternating between watching the dancers and the sights around us.

"Save the Last Dance for Me" by the Drifters** began to play over the speaker system.

"Oh, I love this song," I said out loud to no one in particular.

The next thing I knew, Brian grabbed my hand and walked me out to an open spot on the dance floor. I didn't know that Brian knew how to ballroom dance, but I quickly discovered that he did when he started leading me to the beautiful song. Mom had made me take dance lessons at the country club as a kid, so I was able to keep up.

But don't forget who's taking you home and in his arms you're gonna be...

I was acutely aware that the other couples on the dance floor, who were all opposite-sex, were watching us. Whether it was in awe or contempt, I didn't know and really didn't care.

So darlin', save the last dance for me.

Brian spun me around, smiling down at me the entire time we moved to the music. I must have had a goofy smile on my face, since I could hardly believe what was happening. Brian Fucking Kinney, the former Stud of Liberty Avenue and formerly the sexiest, most handsome teacher at St. James Academy, was dancing with me on a luxurious yacht on the Hudson River to a ridiculously romantic song in front of a bunch of straight people.

Baby, don't you know I love you so? Can't you feel it when we touch? I will never, never let you go. I love you oh so much.

He pulled me closer to him, tilting his head down so our foreheads and noses touched. Some of the couples on the dance floor moved out of the way, mostly because they were too busy watching us to continue dancing. Brian then had plenty of room to spin me around several times.

But don't forget who's taking you home and in his arms you're gonna be...

Brian whispered "dip" to me, and I bent backwards while he dipped me. I giggled and wrapped my left leg around his waist while his strong arms supported me.

So darlin', save the last dance for me.

Once I was standing upright again, Brian lifted me off of my feet and kissed me. We continued to kiss as the chorus was repeated and the song came to a close. A few people clapped, and we both took it as our cue to part and give the crowd a bow.

An older lady came over to us. "You two are so cute."

"Thanks," Brian and I both said together.

We decided to politely move away from the dance floor so the other couples could get back to dancing without us distracting them. Up until then, we had been walking around the boat close together, but not holding hands or touching. After our dance though, we continued our walk hand-in-hand.

"Where did you learn how to dance like that?" I asked Brian.

"My mom taught me when I was a kid. She loved Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly movies, and she took dance lessons and wanted her kids to know how to dance, too. She actually grew up in an upper-class family quite like yours, so it was a shock when she ended up marrying a bum like my old man."

I could see that thinking about his parents was starting to upset him, so I changed the subject. "Thank you for bringing me on this cruise tonight, Brian. It was so awesome. The food was awesome, the sights were awesome, our dance was awesome..."

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. "Just wait until we get back to the loft. I'll show you ‘awesome.'"

Indeed, he did. Once we were in bed and naked, he made me come twice before he even put his dick in my ass. I came two more times before passing out with a huge smile on my face, Brian spooning behind me.

The most magnificent week of my life finally had to come to an end the next morning. My return ticket to Pittsburgh was for ten o'clock, and I got up around eight to shower, pack, and have a some cereal before I needed to head to the bus station. Brian was pretty quiet as I moved throughout the loft picking up my things and getting ready to go.

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was 9:25. A cab would be coming to pick me up in five minutes.

Brian was sitting on the couch with the Times and a cup of coffee.

"Um... I should go outside to wait for my cab."

He nodded as he stared at his newspaper. "Yeah."

I stood there with my duffle bag on my shoulder waiting to see if he was going to say or do anything else. "Okay... I had a great time this week. Thanks for letting me stay with you."

Again, he just nodded and continued to look at the paper.

I sighed. "Well, I guess I'm going to go, then. Back to glorious Pittsburgh."

"Have a safe trip," he said. "Stay out of trouble."

I opened my mouth, but all I could do was exhale roughly. Before I could do something embarrassing like burst into tears, jump into his lap and beg him to beg me to stay, or say something foolish such as "I love you," I walked out the door without another word.

********

I had been back from Manhattan for two weeks when I came home from the gym on a Friday evening and found a Fedex package sitting on my bed. I was shocked to see that it was from Brian.

I opened it, not knowing what the hell it could be, and found what appeared to be a script of some sort. The top page read: Bound (Working Title) by Ace Morgan

Holy shit... it was Brian's new book. He had told me when I first got to his place that he was almost done with the first draft, and that must have been what he sent me. I wondered if he had even sent it to the publisher yet.

I eagerly flipped to the first page and spent the rest of the night reading. I saw that the book was written in first person point of view. I owned a copy of all four of Brian's previous books at that point, and each of them had been written in third person point of view. He said before that most of his favorite books were written in third person, so I found it odd that he would choose to write this book, the first one of his to be published by a major publishing house, in first person.

The story was told by a man named Bradley O'Keefe who worked as a pharmaceutical sales representative traveling throughout the northeastern United States. Bradley confessed to being quite promiscuous, rarely leaving a city without picking up at least one guy to take back to his hotel room for a night of fun. He was usually a top but got an "itch" once in awhile to bottom.

It became quite obvious that minus the career choice, Bradley was Brian down to his crooked front tooth, the right lateral incisor. I was not aware of Brian's "itch" however, since he had never let me top him and flat out turned me down the one time I gathered the guts to ask him, claiming that he never bottomed.

Bradley meets a man named Jason at a gay watering hole in Manhattan in the first chapter. The way that Bradley described Jason was exactly how anyone would describe me: young, blonde, blue eyed, pale, medium height and build, and adorable - your basic twink. Bradley was attracted to Jason immediately and only had to say a few words to get Jason in a cab. The hotel Bradley was staying at sounded a lot like the Library Hotel, down to the painting of Oscar Wilde over the writing desk.

The first sexual encounter between Bradley and Jason was quite lengthy and very, very hot. Their first round consisted of Bradley topping Jason after several minutes of foreplay, where Bradley gave Jason a rim job. Bradley spent two entire paragraphs just describing Jason's ass, how it looked and how it tasted. I had to put the book down for a few minutes to jerk off.

The next round of sex was even hotter than the first. Bradley was admiring Jason's perfect cock, admitting to the reader that he was a size queen, and asked Jason to top him. Jason said that he had only topped a few times before and preferred to bottom, but admitted that he would be a fool to turn down the gorgeous Bradley's request. Partway through, while Bradley was on his back and Jason was on top of him, Bradley grabbed one of Jason's hands and placed it on his throat. When Jason tried to pull his hand away, Bradley tightened his grip and forced Jason to choke him. Bradley came when he felt like he was about to pass out, remarking that it was probably the best orgasm he had ever had in his life.

When Jason was about to leave, Bradley apologized if he made Jason uncomfortable. Jason said it was okay, that he was aware that some people liked to be choked during sex but had never been with someone who did. Bradley confessed that he had never done anything like that before, but something just came over him in that moment. He gave Jason his business card, which Bradley tells the reader he never does with tricks, prompting Jason to give Bradley his card in return. Bradley sees on the card that Jason's last name is Tyler and that he is an independent website designer.

As the story progresses, Bradley cannot get Jason out of his head. He calls the sexy little blonde the next time he is in New York and the two meet up at Bradley's hotel room. Bradley topped Jason in another long, steamy sex scene. They laid in bed after and discovered that they shared a love of literature, especially erotic fiction. They commiserated over the fact that there was not a whole lot of gay erotic fiction available.

Bradley and Jason continued to meet up over the next few months, with Bradley introducing toys and BDSM tools into their sexcapades. At first Bradley used restraints and other fun things on Jason, but they eventually started switching off on who was the dominant and who was the submissive during their "scenes." Bradley eventually moved to Manhattan from his hometown of Boston, and the book ends with Bradley and Jason beginning a full-time D/s relationship with Bradley enjoying the role as the sub. It was a bit like the ending of Brian's third book Begging for It, but better since the man who started out the story as a rather dominant top ended up being the sub. Also, his characters in Bound had fallen completely in love with each other.

It was almost two o'clock in the morning by the time I finished reading Bound, and I was dog-tired. The book was absolutely fantastic, even better than his previous four. It was pretty long, and I hoped that the editor wouldn't have to remove anything for the sake of length.

Brian had grown as a writer and unlike in his other books, he really took the time to explore not only the physical side of his main characters' relationship, but also the emotional side. You could really feel how much Bradley loved Jason, and it was because of his love for him that Bradley was able to fully free himself and allow Jason to be his Dom. He trusted Jason to take care of his body and his heart. I wanted to believe that Brian's feelings for me had been the reason for that growth.

I was about to put the manuscript in my desk drawer and go to sleep before I noticed an envelope tucked in the back of the book. I pulled the letter from the envelope and saw that it was from New York University and had my name on it. The odd thing was that the mailing address was for Brian's loft.

The letter was from the director of the Department of English and began:

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Welcome to NYU! On behalf of the Department of English, I very much look forward to you joining us in the fall.

This letter contains information about registering for courses for your first semester, as well as some other helpful advice....

I read over the letter three times with my mouth wide open. I was completely baffled, since I had neither sent a letter of acceptance or denial to any of the schools that had accepted me, minus Dartmouth. The deadline of May 1 to contact schools was quickly approaching, and I knew I had to start drafting my letters to each school to let them know I would not be attending.

The way the letter from NYU read made it sound like I had not only let them know I would be attending in the fall but that I had already made a deposit on my tuition, which of course I did not.

"Brian," I whispered.

Epilogue, Part One

December 2001

"Oh, God," Brian moaned, unable to do anything more than lie there and take what I was giving him.

I ran the vibrating butt plug over his balls, chuckling at the effect such a little toy was having on my big, strong man.

"Nope, it's only me," I said teasingly. "I love to see you like this, Brian... completely at my mercy."

He groaned in response.

I ran the plug down over Brian's perineum and to his tight hole, which I had already lubed up generously minutes before.

"Relax," I said to him, pushing the button to turn off the vibrator. "Let it in, hot stuff."

He took a deep breath, and I pushed the four-inch plug inside of him as he exhaled. His face tensed slightly for a moment but relaxed after the plug was situated.

"There you go," I said proudly.

I placed my hands on the bed at Brian's sides, stretching up to lick the side of his neck. I made sure to hold myself up high enough so that no part of me was touching his cock. He pushed up slightly with his hips, silently asking for some contact.

"What do you want?" I whispered in his ear.

He replied with a whimper.

I smiled, although he couldn't see my face since his eyes were covered with a black silk eye mask that he had originally bought to sleep with on airplanes.

"Talk to me," I said louder. "Tell me what you want, Brian."

"I... I want you to touch me."

"Touch you where?" I asked before quickly swiping my tongue across his bottom lip.

His tongue peeked out to touch mine, but he was too late. "My cock."

"Oh," I said in an amused tone. "Look at Mr. Kinney, going straight to number one."

I scooted down the bed a little bit, still making sure to not touch him down below. I stopped at his chest and leaned to my left to blow on his right nipple. That earned me a small moan, so I followed it up with my tongue.

"Justin," he said impatiently.

"Yes, my hungry little bottom?" I asked before giving his left nipple the same treatment.

"Aah, fuck!" he yelled out, his hips bucking higher that time.

I kissed him between his pecs. "Not yet."

I continued my slow journey down his long torso, stopping to lick the puddle of pre-cum off of his belly. I was accustomed to the bitter taste of his cum by that point and was actually beginning to like it, which I never thought was possible.

I then sat up so I could get a good look at the gorgeous man that I was able to call mine. No, we were not completely monogamous, but Brian was mine as much as he could ever allow himself to be anyone's. I knew that he still fucked other men when he went out on the evenings that I was busy with homework, but when he came home (no later than midnight during the week and three AM on the weekends), he came home to me. He only ever took me out on dates and referred to me as his "boyfriend." I was hoping to graduate to "partner" someday, but I knew that he was hesitant about putting labels on our relationship and I was willing to wait. I also knew that he never gave oral to or kissed anyone other than me, which wasn't much of a sacrifice on his part since he had rarely ever done that before we had gotten involved.

I knew with complete certainty that Brian didn't allow any trick that he went home with to truss him up like I had that evening, with leather cuffs strapped around his wrists that were attached to our sturdy metal headboard with chains. Soft nylon cuffs were strapped around his thighs and attached with chains to the wrist cuffs. The thigh cuffs were positioned just above his knees, so that when he pulled his arms up to relieve the pressure on his wrists, his legs had no choice but to lift and spread open wider. It was hard enough for him to trust his body completely to me, and there was no way he'd allow some random stranger to restrain him like that.

To say he looked sexy in that position was the understatement of the century.

Brian also never bottomed for anyone but me. There was only one VIP - Very Important Penis - for him, and it belonged to me. He only ever invited the VIP to the party on Thursday nights, or as I liked to call it "Bottom Brian Night." Before he had started bottoming for me, he said that he hadn't bottomed for anyone since he was eighteen and had realized that he didn't have to in order to get sex. I knew what a privilege it was and always made sure to make it enjoyable for him. It was easy, since I was taught to top by the best.

Brian had bottomed for me the first time on the Thursday night before Labor Day weekend, and he only did it after losing a bet. We were at a bar in Chelsea and playing a game of pool. I bet him that he couldn't make a tricky shot and if he missed, his ass was mine for the night. He didn't make the shot, and after I said that he didn't actually have to pay up, he said that a deal was a deal. He still insisted that he really did try to make the shot, but only he knew the truth.

Despite his tricking, we had a wonderful life together. We went out to dinner every Thursday evening to the restaurant of my choice, which of course was immediately followed by Bottom Brian Night. He would take me to a movie once or twice a month, to a play or musical every month or so, and stayed in to prepare a meal with me every Monday evening followed by a movie at home. We would often visit museums and exhibits on the weekends, which we both enjoyed. There was a gym on the NYU campus that I used three times during the week, and then I would go to Brian's gym on the weekends with him where we would spot each other on Saturdays and take spinning classes together on Sundays. He took me to the White Party with him in Miami over Thanksgiving Weekend, and we had a gay old time. Although he had drank quite a bit that weekend and took some drugs here and there, he had significantly cut down on his consumption back at home, which made me very relieved.

It only took me topping a random guy once in the backroom of a club in Chelsea to know that tricking was not for me, even with Brian simultaneously topping a guy right beside me. I just didn't understand the appeal, since I was more than fulfilled with our sex life which was very active and never boring. I hoped that someday he wouldn't feel the need to trick anymore and would fully commit himself to me.

That was enough to keep me happy... except for one little word I still hadn't heard him say.

I had been living with Brian since the week following my completion of high school back at the end of May, and although I had since told him several times that I loved him, he still wouldn't say it. I had no doubt that he loved me, because he certainly wasn't afraid to show it. He wouldn't have offered to pay all four years of my tuition at NYU with a portion of the money he had made from the sale of Babylon and insisted I live with him instead of in the dorms if he didn't love me. I intended on paying every cent back to him, even if it took me the rest of my life, but that was a huge declaration of his love.

Still, it would be nice to hear him say it, even if he only said it just once.

I grabbed onto the base of the butt plug, pulling it out about halfway before pushing it back in. Brian immediately responded by biting his bottom lip and grunting.

"Justin," he repeated breathlessly.

"Brian," I replied before doing it again.

He let out an animalistic growl. "Please!"

"Please what?" I asked before licking the head of his cock.

"Fuck!" he said through gritted teeth. "Let me come!"

"You can come at any time you want, stud," I said to him, although we both knew it was a lie.

The leather cock ring I had strapped around him at the beginning of our session was making him last longer than he normally did. It also made his cock swell with blood to make it even larger than it normally was, which was already fucking huge on its own. If this hadn't been Bottom Brian Night, I would have been riding that huge cock until we both passed out.

"Fuck you!" he yelled at me in response, shaking his arms so the chains rattled.

"Ooh, tough talk coming from the man chained to the bed," I said in a mocking tone. "I could just leave you here all night, macho man. The couch is quite comfy."

He sighed. "I'm sorry... sir."

"That's better," I said before leaning forward to give his harder-than-hell cock a lick from the base up to the slit.

Brian inhaled sharply. "Do that again... please?"

I clicked my tongue. "Well, since you asked so nicely..."

I then proceeded to give him a world-class blowjob... right until he was about to come. I could tell by his increased breathing and the noises he was making that he was very close, and I pulled my mouth away with an audible pop before he was able to finish.

"Wha...? No!" he protested, his words coming out in a strangled rasp. "I was almost there!"

"I want to hear you say it, Brian."

He lifted his head up. "Say... say what?"

Even if he didn't mean it in that moment, I wasn't going to let him come until he told me.

"Tell me how you feel about me," I demanded, finally getting the guts for the first time to say it.

Brian licked his dry lips. "St... straw-"

"No!" I said, cutting him off. "Don't you fucking dare say ‘strawberry.' You don't get to use the safeword to get out of this kind of situation. That's not what the word is meant for."

I pulled the blindfold off and looked into his sexy hazel eyes.

"I want you to tell me exactly how you feel about me, Brian," I said in a gentle voice.

He dropped his head back on the pillow and let out a frustrated groan. "Alright, shit! I love you, Justin! I've been in love with you since... since the night you came to my father's funeral visitation. There, God dammit. Are you fucking happy now?"

I answered by turning the vibrator back on. If he hadn't been chained to the bed, he would have hit the ceiling.

I let him writhe and moan for as long as it took for me to roll on a condom before I quickly pulled the plug out and replaced it with my dick, which was dripping in anticipation to fuck his tight ass.

"Oh, yes!" Brian growled, his wrists pulling against the restraints. "Yes, fuck me!"

He didn't have to tell me twice. I vigorously pumped into him about ten times, knowing that neither of us was going to last long. I then reached between our bellies to unhook the cock ring, and our orgasms almost immediately followed.

Our screams could probably be heard across the Hudson in Bayonne.

Once I could move again, I slowly pulled out and tossed the condom into the trash can on the floor. I undid the straps around Brian's thighs and wrists, and his limbs flopped lifelessly onto the bed. Brian just laid there with his mouth opened as he gasped for breath. I then gave him a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

I began to get up to take the plug into the bathroom to wash, but he stopped me.

"No, don't leave," Brian said desperately, reaching out to me with a trembling hand. "Please... stay here and hold me."

I looked down at my beautiful boyfriend, who was looking back at me with such need and vulnerability like I had never seen before. My heart nearly exploded with my love for him.

I spooned behind Brian and wrapped my arms around him tightly. He somehow felt small in my arms, although he was a larger man than I was. I felt an overwhelming duty to protect and console him after that intense moment we had just shared, much like I had on the night he cried on my shoulder in the street after our "Farewell to Jack Kinney" bowling game.

"I fucking love you, Sunshine," he said just above a whisper. "Really... I do."

I squeezed him tighter and kissed him on his shoulder. "I know. I fucking love you too, Brian."

Epilogue, Part Two

We woke up the next morning when the alarm went off at 8 o'clock.

"What the fuck?" Brian croaked as he rolled over to turn the blasted thing off. "We don't have work or school today."

I tossed the duvet off and climbed out of bed. "We're flying to Pittsburgh this morning, remember?"

He let out an angry moan. "Why?"

"Christmas Break," I said, echoing his whiney tone before pulling the duvet the rest of the way off of the bed, exposing all of his glorious naked skin.

He bitched and complained for a few minutes, telling me to cancel the flight and call everyone back home to say that we weren't coming before getting up and waddling into the shower with me. The previous night's fun had taken a toll on him physically, and I would have felt sorry for him had we both not enjoyed it and had he not have previously done something like that or more extreme to me in the past.

We arrived at the Pittsburgh airport that afternoon and were greeted by Debbie and my mother at the baggage claim. The two of them had become friends over the past few months, since "their sons" were officially a couple. Debbie had introduced Mom to PFLAG, where she had made friends with several other mothers of gay and lesbian kids. At Mom's urging, Daphne later joined, too.

My parents' divorce had been finalized back in May, just a few days before I finished high school and moved to Manhattan. My father was ordered to pay my mother hefty alimony payments along with child support for Molly. She agreed to put their house on the market and move herself and Molly into a two-bedroom condo, claiming that she didn't mind downsizing since it was only the two of them now in the house. It also didn't hurt that she received half of the sale of the house, which sold around the same time Mom earned her realtor's license during the summer. She was happier than I had ever seen her, now that she was making her own money and out from under my father's thumb.

I had not seen Mom or Debbie since I had come to visit over a four-day Fall Break back in October, so they each showered me with hugs and kisses.

"Hey, I'm here too, you know," Brian informed them.

"You're the reason why he wasn't here for Thanksgiving, asshole," Debbie reminded him before grabbing him in a crushing hug.

"It's not like I dragged him down to Miami kicking and screaming," he replied in a slightly strained voice after Debbie had literally squeezed the air out of him.

Brian and my mother shook hands after Debbie finally released him. Although Mom greatly appreciated all that Brian had done for me in the last several months, taking me into his home and paying my tuition, she didn't really know him as anything more than her precious son's former teacher that was now fucking her precious son. I hoped someday she would see Brian as my partner, even if he didn't label himself as such. Debbie had assured me over the phone that she talked Brian up when talking to my mother about him, and I hoped that she refrained from getting all gossipy and telling stories of Brian Fucking Kinney.

Brian's Pittsburgh loft had finally sold the previous month, which made me sad and him very happy. He made a good chunk of money from the sale and reminded me that it was worthless to him sitting empty like it had been since he moved away the year before. Brian had also sold the Jeep without a second thought before he moved, which saddened me even more than the loft. We had a lot of great memories in the loft and the Jeep, and he obviously wasn't nearly as sentimental as I was.

Since he no longer had a place in the Pitts and no one had a spare bed big enough for the two of us, we stayed at a hotel downtown in a very nice suite. The bathroom featured a large walk-in shower, jetted tub, and double vanity, much like our bathroom back in Manhattan did. The bed was large and appeared to have high thread count sheets on it, so we felt at home. The room was also very private, a big plus for us two horny exhibitionists.

We had left Manhattan that morning without having sex. Sure, we exchanged hand jobs in the shower, but that didn't count. I had barely unpacked my toiletry kit before Brian walked into the hotel bathroom and jumped me.

Our lips were locked firmly together when I distinctly heard the sound of Brian sweeping the bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, face wash, hair gel, mousse, and shaving cream I had just finished lining up on the counter out of the way. Most if not all of them clattered onto the floor. I would have been pissed if he had not started to undress me.

Brian had my jeans, briefs, and shoes off seemingly within seconds before picking me up and sitting me bare-assed on the counter. Like some kind of magician, he produced a condom and tube of lube out of thin air, and before you could say "ta-da," he was sheathed, lubed up, and ramming into me.

Since he had wasted no time preparing me, it at first felt like he was ripping my ass apart. Once the lube started doing its job, the pain was replaced by magnificent pleasure. Every exhale out of my mouth was accompanied by a moan, which echoed off of the tile walls.

We must have been on some kind of time limit that I did not know about, because Brian furiously continued to pump into me as if he was running against a stop watch. His hands were gripped around the top of my ass almost painfully and he was pulling me towards him with every thrust, making the skin of my cheeks squeak across the countertop. He didn't even wait for me to come before he threw his head back and let loose with a loud groan. Just the sight of him in the thralls of his orgasm triggered mine a few seconds later.

"What..." I had begun to ask, but was interrupted when he pulled out just as quickly as he had entered, causing me to gasp my next breath and hold it until the pain subsided.

I watched as Brian pulled the condom off and threw it into the trash can. He was at least nice enough to wipe up my spunk with a washcloth.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way..." he said before picking me up again and carrying me into the bedroom. He must have pulled the covers off of the bed while I was unpacking my stuff, because he laid me down on the soft sheet.

"What the fuck was that about?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

"That was punishment for last night," he said as he started to unbutton his shirt.

I pulled my own shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. "Punishment for which part? For chaining you to the bed, denying your orgasm, not letting you use the safe word, or forcing you to tell me that you love me?"

Brian thought about those options while taking off his pants and boxer briefs. "For making me enjoy all of it so much."

"Oh... ‘punishment,'" I said, using air quotes around his word choice. "How dare I make you enjoy being tied up like a pig and putting my dick up your ass."

He climbed onto the bed and settled between my legs. "Just wait until we get back home. I have a present under the bed that's way too inappropriate for you to have opened on Christmas morning in front of your mom and sister. I'll really punish you with it."

I could only imagine what it could be: a flogger, a paddle, a comically large dildo, a ball gag... We already had all of those things in our "naughty box," but we could always use more toys. He had bought me a set of nipple clamps and a riding crop for my birthday earlier that month, so there was no telling what else he could have brought home to use on me and potentially for me to use on him.

I was about to start guessing what my Christmas present could be, but my curiosity went away when Brian ran his index finger around my tender asshole.

"Does that hurt?" he asked, his eyes suddenly filled with concern.

"A little bit, but that was kind of hot," I admitted. "You know I love it when you claim me like that."

He leaned down to kiss me softly on my lips before beginning a speech.

"You were right, though. The safe word is to be used when one of us can no longer physically, emotionally, or mentally handle what is occurring during a scene, and you knew I was misusing it by trying to get out of telling you that I love you. You never let me get away with bullshitting my way out of a situation, and you didn't let me do it last night. That was one of the first things that I fell in love with about you - you see right through me and can handle me better than anyone has ever been able to."

"For the first several weeks of whatever the fuck was happening between us, I had no idea what was going on in your head," I informed him with a chuckle. "I lost hours and hours of sleep trying to understand what you could have been feeling or thought about me. I had never felt more out of control than I'd ever felt in my fucking life."

He shook his head. "You knew that I wanted you and wouldn't let me run away from it, even after I moved out of the state to get away from you. I was terrified of loving you, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I was no match for it or you."

I recalled what he had said to me outside of Woody's the night he had announced he was moving to New York. "A virus that you were powerless to fight."

Brian softly kissed me again before saying, "That virus was love, and I'm done trying to fight it. There ain't no doctor that can cure this disease, and even if there was... I don't think I'd want the antidote."

We spent the rest of the evening reveling in the effects of that particular "virus."

Since he didn't have a vehicle anymore, Brian had rented a BMW for us to get around in during our visit. We hadn't done much Christmas shopping before coming to Pittsburgh, so we hit the mall the next day. We bought at least one gift for everyone in our combined families before going into my favorite store in the mall: the bookstore.

Brian's new book, which he ultimately did decide to name Bound, had been published the previous month. HarperCollins had released half a million copies, which was pretty good for a first release from an author who had never had anything published by a major publishing house before.

The book had been sent to several gay publications to review, and the overall consensus was very positive. A host on the Today Show apparently had a gay friend who recommended the book to her, and it became an overnight success after she had raved about it on an episode of the show.

The biggest fans of the book seemed to be housewives rather than gay men, which Brian found perplexing. He ultimately decided it was cool though, since a sale was a sale. The publisher would be releasing another two million copies very soon with more expected to follow later in the new year. There were rumors that a Hollywood studio was interested in turning it into a movie, and Brian said that if he had a choice, he'd want Christian Bale to play Bradley and Devon Sawa to play Jason.

I perused around the "New Releases" area of the bookstore and saw that there weren't any copies of Bound out in the open. Although I had a copy of my own as well as the first draft that Brian had sent me back in April, I went over to the counter and asked if they had any copies available out of curiosity.

"No, sorry," the female sales clerk said regretfully. "We only received ten copies last month to sell, and after what's-her-face on TV talked about it, they were all gone by the next day. I heard that the author lives in New York City but is actually from Pittsburgh, so I bet that any more we're lucky enough to get won't last long here."

Brian had ambled over to my side by then and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Yeah, I heard that he was from Pittsburgh, too," my sly boyfriend said. "He hasn't granted any interviews to promote the book yet, but they say it's so damned good, he doesn't need to. I wonder if he's even a real person."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah, that Ace Morgan is a true enigma."

We were on our way back to the hotel when we drove past Taylor Electronics, my father's store. I gasped and grabbed onto Brian's arm when I saw a giant yellow and red "Going Out Of Business Sale" sign over the front entrance.

"Did you fucking see that?" I screamed.

Brian steered the car back into our lane. "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me! Did I see what?"

"Go back, go back!" I insisted.

Brian turned left at the next block and took us back to Dad's store. He pulled into a parking space facing the entrance, and we looked up at the sign with twin smiles on our faces. Without either of us having to say a word, Brian cut the engine before we both got out of the car and went into the store.

We walked around arm-in-arm while looking at the dramatically marked down prices. I knew that they were artificially marked down, since the original prices were over the suggested retail prices in the first place. I had no idea how long the sale had been going on or even that Dad was selling the store, but it was going to take him months to clear out all of his inventory.

I said hello to one of the salesman, whom I had always found to be a nice guy... too nice to work for a shyster like my father. I really hoped that Dad wasn't cutting the commissions on his employees' sales in order to make the maximum profit before he ultimately closed the place, but I wouldn't put it past him.

Brian and I turned a corner towards the back wall of the store where all of the TVs were displayed, and we found my father attempting to sell a gigantic LCD to someone. Dad's back was to us, so he didn't see us coming.

The TV, which had originally been priced at $4,999.99, was marked down to $3,999.99. Apparently the customer was trying to talk Dad into taking more money off, but the shyster wasn't having it.

"I'm already taking a huge cut by knocking a grand off of it," Dad said to the guy. "This is as low as I'll go. I'm even taking half off of a surround sound system with the purchase of the TV."

Brian, whom I recalled having met my father a few times before at various school functions, most recently at Open House during my senior year, stepped closer to the two of them.

"I just bought this exact same TV at Best Buy a couple months ago," Brian loudly announced, causing my father to quickly jerk his head around to look at him like some kind of surprised cartoon character.

"What'd you pay for it?" the customer asked Brian.

"Five hundred less than what he's asking for, although it's probably cheaper now, with the Christmas sales going on," he claimed.

The guy turned on his heel and promptly walked out of the store.

I gave my father a fake smile. "Hello, Dad. You remember my boyfriend Brian Kinney, don't you? You know, my old English teacher?"

Dad's mouth dropped open, having obviously recognized Brian. His eyes flickered between me and Brian so fast, I wouldn't have been surprised if he hit the floor from dizziness.

Brian held his hand out to my father to shake. "It's nice seeing you again, sir."

Dad seemed to be frozen where he stood and did not move to shake Brian's hand.

"It's a shame to see that you're closing the store down, Mr. Taylor," Brian remarked as he put the hand that my father had left hanging on my waist. "You have such high-end, yet over-priced stuff. Let's go, Justin. I hear Radioshack is having a sale, and we still need to buy a CD player for your sister for Christmas."

He began leading me out of the store, my father never having said a single word to us.

"Our new TV is a different brand than that one," I said to Brian as we approached the door.

"I know."

Epilogue, Part Three - Finale

As was the annual tradition, Brian and I went over to Debbie and Vic's house on Christmas Eve for dinner and to exchange gifts. The contrast between the previous Christmas Eve and that one definitely wasn't lost on me. The fact that Brian and I were there together, happy, and deliciously in love was a Christmas miracle in itself, something that had only been a dream of mine the previous year.

Michael and Ben were there, and I was surprised that Ben hadn't yet wised up and left Michael's whiney ass. What Ben could have seen in the little snake, besides his boyishly-handsome looks and bubble butt was beyond me. My only assumption was that Michael was fire in bed. Brian said that Michael was strictly a bottom and had a rather unimpressive dick, so he must have had the tightest ass in town and deep throated a dick like a penguin swallowed a fish - a weirdly mesmerizing sight.    

Brian had maintained his friendship with Michael through phone calls and emails over the past year, but the physical distance between them had taken a toll. It was obvious by the look that Michael gave me when we walked through the door that he still didn't and would probably never like me, and the feeling was mutual. Michael at least kept his mouth shut and didn't say anything in my direction. Brian said a few months before that Michael had conceded to the fact that I wasn't going away.

Another big difference from the previous holiday season was that Ted and Emmett, through some mysterious and magical forces, had begun dating back in October. As Emmett had explained it to me, "One day, he was just plain-old Teddy, and the next he was Teddy." I wasn't going to attempt to understand what the attraction could have been and how the two of them could have ever worked, since they couldn't have been more different, other than the fact that they both liked dick, but they appeared to be very happy together which was all that really mattered. They were even looking for a house to buy, recruiting my mother as their realtor.

"Temmett" as Brian called them was fused at the hip the entire evening and being so lovey-dovey it even made me, a hopeless romantic, a bit uncomfortable. One half of Temmett, the drab half, held out a bite of pumpkin pie with whipped cream on a fork to his other half.

"Another bite of pumpkin, Pumpkin?" he asked.

The flamboyant half happily accepted the offering, licking the cream off of the fork almost pornographically. "Thank you, Teddy Bear," he cooed before giving him a kiss.

"Jesus," Brian whispered to me while observing their almost sickeningly-sweet interaction. "Is that what we look like?"

I smiled. "Maybe about seventy-five percent of that."

"If it gets above eighty, we may as well cut off our dicks, because that'll mean we've become lesbians."

Speaking of the lesbians, Melanie and Lindsay were there with thirteen month-old Jenny Rebecca. The brunette toddler, who was unfortunately one-half Michael, was ridiculously cute and ran around the living room and kitchen all evening on her chubby legs. Her mommies, daddy, and grandma tried to keep up, but the little girl couldn't be tamed. Melanie and Lindsay had both seemed to warm up to me now that I was no longer a threat to Brian's career. Lindsay even quietly thanked me while the two of us were doing the dishes for making Brian so happy and having a positive influence on him. The girls gave me a very nice first-edition copy of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, which I loved.

Brian and I went to my mother's condo the next morning where she had cooked a beautiful brunch for us. Molly and Daphne were both there, too.

"I thought you'd be with the new beau today," Brian said to Daphne. "Did you dump him after realizing he was straight?"

Daphne laughed, knowing that Brian was only teasing her. "No, he's in Cleveland with his folks. I'm driving up there to see him tomorrow."

She had met her new boyfriend at Carnegie Mellon where they were each majoring in biology with hopes of going to medical school. His name was Eric and although I hadn't met him yet, I could see that he was making Daphne very happy so far. She gave him her cherry on their third date, so he had to be something special. She showed me a picture of him and damn, he could have been Tyson Beckford's younger brother. When I had asked her if he had a big dick she answered, "He's six foot four and black, what do you think?"

We ate in the small dining room, which was almost too small for our old table that seated six. Mom had left that day's newspaper on the table and I mindlessly looked through it while we ate and chatted. There was a short article in there about Chris Hobbs's upcoming trial, which would be taking place the following month.

Hobbs was charged with beating a hustler to death just a few weeks after graduation. Although he was the one that called 911 and told the cops that he "accidently" killed the guy while arguing over money, he decided to plead not guilty to murder. He had been denied bail, so that meant he was sitting in jail at that very moment. His family publicly disowned him after it became known that not only did he like to fuck men, the coroner also found Hobbs's semen in the hustler's ass. I hoped that he was Big Bubba's bitch in the joint.

We opened presents after we were finished eating, and Molly oohed and aahed over what Brian and I had bought her. We actually did get her a CD player from Radioshack along with some clothes and costume jewelry. Daphne received a Coach purse and a bottle of Chanel's new fragrance Coco Mademoiselle. We gave my mother a Cartier watch and a bottle of Chanel No. 5, her favorite perfume.

Daphne, being a broke college student, once again used her crafty side to make an afghan blanket for us, which had to have taken her many, many hours to crochet. Mom gave us a very nice four-piece set of crystal tumblers, since I had mentioned to her before that Brian was a bourbon drinker. She also gave me a cashmere sweater and, oddly, that month's issue of Pittsburgh Living magazine. It cost two bucks and was found at stores all over town, so I was confused.

"Turn to page eight," she told me.

I turned to page eight, which was the "Society Living" page that the country club set would often post engagement, wedding, and anniversary announcements along with other special events and notices. I heard that ads were ridiculously expensive, so rich people were the only ones that could afford them.

I immediately saw a picture of Brian and me that had been taken of us on our dinner cruise during Spring Break. The Brooklyn Bridge was behind us in the background. I had to admit that we looked pretty fucking great together, and I smiled as I recalled how happy I had been on that night.

Under the picture was the following announcement:

Jennifer Hargrave-Taylor and Craig Taylor, owner of Taylor Electronics, are very proud to announce that their son Justin Randolph Taylor has completed his first semester at New York University. Justin, an English major, is an aspiring writer and has so far had three entertainment articles published in NYU's student newspaper. He is a graduate of St. James Academy where he was on the Dean's List with a 3.9 GPA. Justin lives in New York City with his loving partner, literary editor Brian Kinney.

I quickly looked over at Brian after reading that last sentence.

Loving partner?

I then looked at my mother, who was undoubtedly the one who had sent the announcement to the magazine. "Mom... uh..."

Brian was sitting on the love seat next to me and looking at the magazine in my hands. "I forgot that your middle name is Randolph," he said with a small chuckle.

"It's my father's name," Mom informed him.

"Your father's name is Randolph Hargrave?" he asked.

"It's actually Randolph Ludlow Hargrave III."

Brian slapped his hands on his thighs. "Wow. That has got to be the WASP-iest name I've ever heard."

I read the announcement again while they were fawning over my grandpa's name, which indeed sounded very upper-class and told you right away that he came from old money.

"Uh, Mom, Brian and I... we're not exactly-"

"Not exactly what?" Brian asked before reaching up and pinching my earlobe. "Partners? I think we're past being "boyfriends" now, don't you think? Boyfriends just sounds so... high school."

I really didn't want to have that particular conversation in front of my mother and Daphne, but there we all were. Luckily Molly was occupied in a corner with her Christmas presents and didn't seem to be paying any attention.

I had no clue what to say, so I went with, "Uh..."

"How do you think your mom got that picture of us? I sent it to her last month and helped her write the announcement."

"Really?" I asked in disbelief.

Brian actually considered himself my "loving partner" a month ago? Holy shit.

"Well, he is a literary editor and published writer," Mom reminded me.

Brian faked a gasp. "Mother Taylor, don't tell me you've read one of Ace Morgan's filthy books."

"Okay, I won't," Mom said before giving him a wink.

The four of us laughed.

"Anyway sweetheart, I wanted to put that announcement in there so everyone would know how proud I am of you."

"And to give a jab to your old man and everyone at St. James," Brian added.

"I sent a copy of the magazine to your father by certified mail," Mom said, obviously proud of herself. "I flagged that page with a Post-it note so he would see it. He called and berated me about including his name and the name of the store in there, because then everyone would know that he has a gay son. I told him, ‘You're welcome for advertising the store, because you definitely need all you can get now,' before hanging up on him."

Brian pinched my earlobe again, which he knew was something that turned me on. "You deserve to have your success flaunted, Sunshine: making the Dean's List, going to NYU, having your articles published-"

"And having you as my loving partner," I said with a big smile. "That's the best part."

I gave my loving partner a G-rated kiss, out of respect for our audience.

Daphne had to leave soon to go to her parent's house to celebrate the rest of the holiday. Brian and I took that as our chance to leave, too.

He and I could hardly get back to our hotel room fast enough. Once we finally got there and locked the door behind us, clothes went flying off as we stumbled over to the bed. It soon became obvious that Brian was intending for this to be a fast and furious fuck, but I did not want that.

He was kissing and licking my chest, which felt great but I stopped him by reaching down and lifting his head up.

"Can we slow down?" I asked. "Now that I know we're officially partners, I want a little romance... at least today."

Brian lifted an eyebrow. "Hmm... I think I can arrange that. How about a little mood music?"

He reached over and messed with the buttons and dials on the clock radio on the night stand. He stopped on a station that was playing "When I See You Smile" by Bad English.

"Perfect," Brian said.

We started kissing and letting the heat build slowly. He broke away to nibble on my earlobe and neck, which never failed to drive me crazy. My breathing had increased and I bit my bottom lip to hold back from moaning this early in the game.

He then continued on a trail down to my right nipple, which I had gotten pierced over the summer one night when I came home to visit and Daphne and I had been wandering around Liberty Avenue drunk off of our asses. I was afraid that Brian would hate it and demand I take the ring out after I got home, but he actually thought it was sexy and was fascinated by it. He liked to stick his tongue into the ring and pull on it, which hurt but felt good at the same time.

The song on the radio had changed over to "Always" by Bon Jovi. Christ, Jon Bon Jovi was so fucking hot in his prime... my cock jumped while imagining him in his tight jeans.

After giving some attention to my nipple ring, Brian remembered that I had another unpierced nipple which he pinched and rolled between his fingers before moving over to lick it. I could no longer stay silent and let out a groan.

We had unfortunately left the nipple clamps at home.

I could feel his cock leaking on my leg as he scooted down a bit more to start giving me nips and bites on my belly, which after several months of working out was starting to develop into a nice little six-pack. I became curious about what he was doing, and I lifted my head and shoulders to see. He responded by reaching up and pushing me back down. I realized after a minute that he was drawing the shape of a heart with hickies.

"I think we just passed that eighty percent point of no return," I said, giggling.

"Shut up, you know you love it when I mark you," he mumbled.

I closed my mouth and let him continue to worship my body.

Brian moved further south with his lips and tongue, stopping at my groin. His breath was puffing out hot on my skin, and that heat combined with the cool air hitting the saliva he was leaving on me felt amazing. My own breathing had turned into whimpers by then and my cock was weeping for attention.

"Brian, please," I whispered, wanting more.

He took mercy on me by wrapping his hand around my cock and giving it a little squeeze. More pre-cum dribbled out, which he caught with his mouth. He decided to share my taste with me by pulling me up and kissing me.

The radio DJ cut in and told us that we were in the middle of a long block of commercial-free music. The next song he played for us was "Love Will Keep Us Alive" by the Eagles.

Brian used that slow, beautiful song as an opportunity to give me a slow, almost torturous blow job. He pulled out every trick in his arsenal, making me shake and moan with each bob of his head. He was firmly pressing his tongue and lips against the veins of my cock, making it throb along with the beat of the song.

He must have covertly grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand because I heard the top of the bottle pop, followed a moment later by one of Brian's slick fingers circling my hole. He soon pushed the finger inside of me, tapping my prostate as he continued to blow me.

"Oh, Jesus fucking..." I said, babbling other random expletives as my balls tightened painfully and I exploded with a groan down Brian's throat. I came so hard that only my shoulders and feet stayed on the bed.

Brian spent a few moments cleaning me up with his tongue, making satisfied noises of his own.

"I fucking love you," I whispered just over the volume of the music.

He looked up at me and smiled. "I fucking love you, too."

Brian started crawling back up to lay beside me when Van Halen's "Hot for Teacher" came on the radio.

We instantly looked at each other and laughed.

"Aww, that's our song, Mr. Kinney," I said.

"Yes, it is, Mr. Taylor," he confirmed before rolling onto his back. "Now, how about you show me just how hot you are for your teacher."

~~THE END~~