Prego Stud

By: Tagsit

Chapter One: The Need.

He couldn't get the image out of his head: Justin at the Baths the night before. Fuck! He couldn't concentrate all day at work. It was like when you get a certain song stuck in your head and you can't stop humming it unconsciously all day. Only this was worse because the soundtrack playing in Brian's brain had a video clip that went with it and he just couldn't escape from the pictures he kept seeing over and over again.

He'd already jacked off three times and it wasn't even noon. How the hell was he going to make it to quitting time? Shit, even a blind, deaf hetero hump like Ryder was eventually going to notice if Brian walked around the rest of the day with his designer slacks tented in the front as he rubbed up against any and all vertical surfaces he could find that might temporarily relieve the desire he couldn't stop.

Brian had first introduced his young blond lover to the Baths several weeks ago. That first night, plowing Justin's sweet tight, lily-white ass in the sauna with a crowd of hungry, admiring queers watching, was hot beyond imagination. They'd both cum three times, to the overwhelmingly vocal delight of the spectators, before they'd been sated that night. Jesus, that boy could fuck!

But last night, when Brian had taken the youth back for a second appearance, the scene he'd been treated to was so much more than hot, there really were no words to describe it.

Brian had selected a nice big, buffed-out gym bunny from the available selection and then led the eager man over to his even more eager blond. While Brian stood behind Justin, fondling, kissing, guiding and making the occasional suggestion, the brave neophyte enthusiastically took on the task of prepping the much taller man. Brian loosened Justin's threadbare, white terrycloth towel, easing the material off the slim hips, as the youth effortlessly manhandled Mr. Muscles around and pushed him over the tiled half wall shower surround in front of them.

Brian ripped open the condom package he'd brought along and expertly sheathed his lover's stout, steel-hard dick while the boy caressed the tanned lats and delts of their beefcake boy. Brian found his own hands gliding along behind Justin's, not even aware he'd moved until he saw the beautiful contrast his skin made next to the alabaster tones of his blond and the redder skin of the trick. All four hands migrated without thought lower and lower until they scooped around and grappled onto the trick's nice, thick, uncut nine-inch dick. Brian helped as his tyro blond stroked the muscle man into a rock-hard erection

Then, while Brian watched, transfixed by the delicious sight unfolding before him, Justin pressed Mr. Muscles further over, slicked up his fingers using the conveniently placed lube dispenser affixed on the wall nearby and thrust his fingers deep into the willing pucker displayed enticingly against the grimy white tile wall.

Justin's fingers disappearing so quickly into that eager hole elicited moans from not only Brian but several other onlookers as well. There was a communal gasp and then the beefy trick hissed out a needy 'Yes!' and thrust backward. The well-muscled hands gripped at the edge of the wall as Justin delved into and stretched the tight opening. Brian nuzzled at the ivory skin of Justin's neck, letting his lips glide over salty skin but never letting his focus drift. His own erection was peeping from under his towel, and he indulged himself by rubbing his naked cock lightly against the silken skin of the tempting cheeks of his teen lover.

Yes, that had been stimulating to watch. Yes, it had felt exquisite. Yes, it rivaled some of the best porn he'd ever seen. Yes, he was panting and hard and already dripping from that mere taste of what was to come. But it was what came next that left Brian breathless with an unmet longing.

Justin, the neophyte, the tyro, the very recently de-virginized twink never hesitated for a second. He was a natural. It was pure instinct that drove him. And the sight ate at Brian's very core, causing feelings he'd never come close to acknowledging to surge unhindered through his very soul.

Grasping the well-toned butt cheeks with both hands and spreading them almost tenderly, Justin used his body alone to angle his cock just right and then expertly drove it deeply into the waiting trick. Mr. Muscles groaned in protest but somehow, almost miraculously, the tyro managed to angle his initial thrust perfectly so that he rammed the man's sweet spot on the first try. The moan turned into a whimper of pleasure almost immediately. The husky buff body that Brian was still caressing writhed with the instantaneous pleasure, mutely begging for more, more, more!

Brian stood transfixed. The image of Justin's thick, plump, plum-colored cock penetrating that tight, dark-purple pucker of skin - the tight muscles spreading and the skin stretching around Justin's perfect dick - was mesmerizing. Brian could almost feel the slow stretch, the jolt of pain, the sharp, deep pleasure. Every time the trick flinched, his own body echoed the movement. And, when he saw Justin finally buried balls deep inside that tasty-looking ass, Brian felt a drawing, heady need draining his strength, that he'd never, ever even glimpsed.

That was the exact image haunting his every daylight hour this morning. That view of tight skin stretched around and accepting a full, hot, hard, demanding cock. Brian couldn't . . . he just fucking COULD NOT . . . get that image to leave his conscious mind. The harder he tried to resist the desire the imaged raised, the more it insinuated itself into his subconscious. Was it possible to go insane with mere lust? Brian had always had a strong sex drive. He was a fucking legend of the gay community, for fuck's sake. But, to succumb to this desire . . . well, he wasn't sure he was ready to deal with everything that entailed. Especially not with the far-too-tempting Justin Taylor.

. . . Three o'clock . . .

. . . Four o'clock . . .

. . . Four-thirty . . .

. . . Four-forty five . . .

. . . Four-fifty . . .

Fuck! How long was this ridiculous day? If he didn't get his dick up SOME ass in the next five minutes he was going to fucking explode!

. . . Four-fifty three . . .

His cell phone rang, thankfully yanking Brian out of his impending implosion of lust. It was Emmett. Thanks be to every fucking entity ever known to mankind - Em was calling to remind Brian that it happened to be the twink's eighteenth birthday and the gang was therefore taking him out to Babylon to celebrate. It was the perfect excuse! Brian wouldn't have to admit anything. He'd just show up at the club like he would any other night and the twink he hungered for would just conveniently happen to appear. No losing face. No begging. Not even any mere suggestion that Brian wanted . . . needed, demanded, HAD . . . to see the young blond, would ever arise. Brian could just maneuver things so that he ended up leaving with the tempting blond teen like he had several times before. Maybe no one would even notice that he was, AGAIN, leaving with the same person he'd already fucked way more than his allotted one time.

Maybe . . .

Maybe Brian could get this untenable itch scratched by the erotic young blond.

Really, who would ever be the wiser? Nobody would have to know, right?

Right?

. . . Maybe . . .

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Chapter two - Scratching the Itch.

Brian ambled into Babylon at his usual, fashionably late hour, wearing his customary mask of amused disdain. Only the keenest observer could see - in the depths of those gorgeous hazel eyes - the man's underlying excitement and anxiety. But Brian knew how to play this. He was the primo stud, on top of all the Tops on the Avenue, and he knew the game. He played his part like a virtuoso.

All eyes were pulled in his direction as he strode purposely up to his group of friends gathered near the end of the bar. Brian played it oh so cool. He greeted Michael first, then Ted and Em, and only then did he allow his gaze to wander over to the boy with the incandescent grin in the corner. The thick, bright, blond hair, gelled back in that prep school style, the piercing sapphire blue eyes, those sweet bowed lips just made to slide along his spit drenched cock, the strong, sensitive, artistic fingers, that slim boyish body, that bulging basket, tightly clad in faded jeans, restraining what Brian knew to be a beautiful, thick, perfectly shaped cock - Brian let his eyes stroke over every inch of the tempting body, admiring it, lusting for it, but never letting on to those around exactly what it was he was planning for it.

He daren't let himself succumb too quickly, though. Brian Kinney had a reputation to maintain. He used that rep nightly to market his own special, personal ad campaign for the utterly desirable but eternally elusive stud. The more men that wanted him, the more WOULD want him. The fact that no one could have him except for that one time - one fuck per customer - only made them want him even more desperately. This was the man Brian wanted to be. It was the persona he'd chosen for himself years ago. He'd invested heavily in this particular image - it was worth the heavy effort to maintain it though because being 'The Supreme Stud' got him what he wanted: respect, however begrudgingly it was tendered.

Brian confidently raised two fingers and pointed casually at the bartender who obeyed with alacrity and brought the requisite tumbler with a double shot of JB. Brian pushed in close to the bar to retrieve his drink, letting his body brush against Justin's lithe frame as if by accident. He could already feel the boy's heat pulsating through the fabric of his clothing. Justin's hand, blocked from view by the overhanging edge of the bar and Brian's own body, gave a proprietary little squeeze to the older man's package as he threw back his drink. Brian gave no outward acknowledgement of the intimate gesture. The fact that the soft touch made him instantly hard, causing his stomach to do flip-flops and his heart to pound, was expertly hidden. It wouldn't do to give in to his desires that quickly. The game had rules. You had to follow the steps precisely if you wanted to win. Brian always won.

Step one: Pull the closest non-troll out of the herd, take immediate possession of his lips and tell him he's coming with you NOW. Never any need to ask permission. He'll want it - want you - and follow along at your heels like a well-trained puppy.

Step two: Don the appropriate sneering smile with which to favor your usual group of sycophants as you pull the trick along to the back room for the first fuck of the night. It's fast and furious. No need for finesse. Push the trick face first against the wall, yank his pants down far enough to get to his ass, minimal prep time and before you know it, you're topping the first fuck of the night. If all you can think of the entire time your dick is pounding into the faceless trick is that image of Justin topping the butch boy from the baths, who cares. If the fantasy helps you get the fuck accomplished more efficiently, all the better for your rep.

Step three: Procure one orgasm for yourself to start the night right, incidentally letting your partner get off, too, provided the man doesn't take too long at it.

There. The rep is reset firmly in place. Tension momentarily relieved. You're still the stud. You've played your role and everybody bought the performance without question. Now, back to the erotic blond so you can discretely manipulate everything just right and, before you know it, that little demanding itch will be taken care of.

By the time Brian reemerges from his first fuck of the night, Justin's already ensconced in the center of the dance floor. He's taken off his shirt and is standing under a hot white spotlight that perfectly illuminates the soft curves of the kid's delectable shape. He grins up at the ceiling as glitter rains down on him, giving the pale ivory skin a diamond-like sheen. Brian can't wait to see how that sparkly pale torso will look laying across his navy blue sheets. He plans to rub some of that glitter down the boy's perfect cock so it will glitter too. The idea of that hot hard dick glittering in the dim blue lights of the loft, resting proudly in the curly blond thatch of pubes as Justin pulls Brian down onto him . . . has the studly top salivating.

He wants it. He has to have that image for real. Brian's never felt this needy, this pulling want so low in his gut. The word 'desire' sounds so tame, but the feeling itself is wild, powerful, demanding, controlling and he's barely able to contain it. Brian hates giving up control in any situation. The only way to take back control now is to rein in the desire, squelch it, get that particular need met so he can move on.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the newly legal twink,” Brian drawls nonchalantly as he sidles up behind the gyrating blond dynamo, dripping his provocative words into the shell-like ear of his target. “If you’re a good little boy, I can make all your birthday wishes come true!”

“Really?” Justin exclaims as he spins around to favor Brian with a mischievous full-glare Sunshine smile. “You can get me a pony, Brian? Cause I always used to wish for a pony every time I blew out the candles on my birthday cakes as a boy.”

“Fucking twat!” Brian laughs against his will at the teasing little fucker. “How about if I let you ride me instead?”

“Mmmmm. I guess I could handle that.” Justin purrs as he presses his body firmly against Brian’s tall lanky frame.

Brian’s hands mold themselves around the boy’s backside, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of the tight jeans, his fingertips pressing into the plump mounds of flesh, wishing he could do so much more right this instant. The eager blond responds by tilting his hips forward so that their cocks are crushed together in the narrow space between their two bodies. Justin starts to sway to the thumping beat of the music surrounding them, his hips grinding from side to side, his hands roaming up Brian’s sides and over his firm chest. Brian lets the smaller body guide his own, giving in to the delicious feeling of their bodies melding together.

They remain entwined, flowing with the music for what seems like forever. Brian is entranced by the music, the slow grinding movement, the clean sweaty smell of the boy, now man, in his arms. The fantasy images flitting through his mind are making him even harder than the pressure of Justin’s cock humping against his leg. How much longer can he hold out? What’s considered the proper amount of time for the Stud of Liberty Avenue to allow his public to admire him before he can leave, dragging Justin behind him. If he cums in his pants before he can make his escape, it would sort of defeat the whole purpose and destroy his carefully guarded reputation, but fuck if he’s not about ready to shoot any second now. He’s NEVER had it this bad before.

“Fuck it,” he finally mutters, unwilling to delay any longer. Brian seizes Justin’s wandering hand and turns abruptly towards the door. Justin is caught off balance and would have fallen if not for the impetus of Brian’s tugging him along. “Time for your birthday surprise, little boy,” Brian insists and the grinning blond is more than happy to trip along behind the sexy hunk regardless of where the man wants to take him.

Brian shoved the youth into the passenger side of the Jeep and raced around to his own door. He’s in the car, the motor running and halfway down the block before he started to breathe a little easier. Get Justin to the loft - check. That part was always going to be easy. Now . . . how to get what he wanted without letting on to the boy that it was any big deal?

They screeched to a halt in front of the loft and Brian was already around the car and pulling Justin from his seat before the engine has even completely stopped. Fuck trying to maintain the aloof, dispassionate facade any longer. Brian needed this bad. The subtle, sophisticated approach would just take too long. He was going to go with insistent and demanding and hope Justin was inexperienced enough not to see right through him.

The young blond was compliant and happy to oblige his lover’s whims. It was short work to get the boy laid out naked on the dark blue sheets, thighs spread wide for Brian’s viewing pleasure, pieces of glitter flaking off and creating a halo of sparkles all around the beautiful nubile body. The brunet trailed his fingers through the drifting glitter, then traced along the long curved line of Justin’s deep plum colored cock, transferring the tiny mica specs. The tableau was perfect. The young man was more beautiful than Brian felt he could bear. Justin's cock was fully engorged - it was perfect and thick and dripping precum which dribbled through the spots of glitter creating small prisms of sparking light. Brian was so ready.

He wanted this . . . now!

Reaching to the bowl on the bedside table, he grabed out one of the many waiting condom packets, then Brian turned and knelt on the edge of the mattress. He waited till he was sure he’d got the kid’s full attention - Justin’s eyes focused on the silver foiled packet and followed along as Brian slowly waved the item back and forth. When Justin reached out one tentative hand to grab at the beckoning object, Brian pulled it back sharply, keeping the little packet just out of the blond’s reach. Justin was waiting, willing to take direction.

Biting at his lower lip, Brian smiled questioningly down on the magnificent sight one more time to reassure himself that this was really what he wanted to do. The display of willing innocence and avid desire on Justin’s beatific face convinced him easily. Brian shook his head with a little huffing laugh, then threw up his hands in surrender and dramatically dropped down face first into the bedding.

“Brian. . . ?” Justin asked, confusion leaking through in his tone.

The brunet didn't bother to turn his head. With his face still buried in the pillow, he mutely held up the condom, waving it a little over his shoulder blade to get Justin’s attention. When the youth grabed the condom with hesitant fingers, Brian wraped both arms around the pillow, scrunching it up till he was comfortable, and at the same time spreading his legs wider in silent invitation.

Justin, bright boy that he is, doesn’t really need any further direction. He didn't waste any time moving to kneel between the beautiful long legs and ripping open the condom. He didn't want to risk breaking the mood by talking. He knew this limited-time offer WOULDN'T last, so he moved quickly. The condom was rolled down his hungry dick faster than he thought his fingers could move. A couple of pumps from the dispenser top on the bedside lube bottle and his fingers were slicked and ready.

Justin took a deep breath - this WAS Brian Fucking Kinney, after all, and it was imperative that he get this right. This wasn't some random trick from Babylon or the baths. This was the man he'd loved from the first moment their eyes met. But, if he let himself worry about the amount of experience Brian's had - the sheer number of men Brian had fucked over the years boggled the mind - or his own relative lack of experience, he'd just get too intimidated. Better to simply plunge ahead blindly and fuck the consequences.

To reassure himself more than anything, Justin let his lips rest against the nape of Brian’s neck. He could feel that Brian was tense - there was a vibration of barely restrained energy pulsing just under the silky, smooth skin. He trailed a line of butterfly-light kisses down the tanned skin of Brian’s spine to help relax them both. At the same time, he was lightly sketching patterns, swirls and curlicues, up the inside of his lover’s long, smooth thighs.

Brian tried to keep himself still. The anticipation was driving him fucking insane. His skin burned at each of Justin’s touches, leaving trails of arcing electric flames down his back and again up the insides of his legs. If he could speak, he’d have told the boy to just get on with it - he was more than ready already. That sweet-sour, tumbling, yearning in the pit of his stomach ebbed and flowed, increasing overall as the lines of Justin’s kisses neared his upwardly trailing fingertips. Finally, Justin’s touch slid over the top of his thigh, bridged the crease of his cheek and curled around until it was trailing sensually down the furrow of his ass crack heading for the waiting mahogany knot.

'Ahhhhh, it'd been so long. . . ' Brian thought when he finally felt Justin's strong fingers sliding inside. He held back the groan that almost escaped. Okay, he really needed this, but that didn't mean he had to go all touchy-feeley and demonstrative all of a sudden. The kid already had too much power over him - and probably knew it, too - no way was Brian going to give him even more. 'But, fuck . . . Ohhh, that  felt good.'

'The boy was a fast learner, too. It took him what, 45 seconds maybe, to find my sweet spot. He's going to be one hell of a top someday in the not too distant future. Mmmmmm. I don't think anyone's put this much time and effort into preparing me. Ever. I mean, really, NEVER! Fuck, he was so . . . sweet. I could get used to this. Shit. I didn't just think that . . . '

Brian was having more and more trouble keeping still. Every time those long slim artistic fingers brushed his prostate, he wanted to jump out of his skin. That would be giving a tell, though, and Brian prided himself on keeping a poker face at all times - regardless of whether he was playing cards or just playing the people around him. He wouldn't squirm like a girl. But, try as he might, he couldn't control how fast and hard he was breathing. He knew Justin was probably onto him by now.

There was no way that Brian was going to beg the little twat to move on, to just fuck him already, to just shove that perfect, sparkly cock in him so deep and hard that Brian would taste the glitter . . . .

No way . . . Ohhhhhh, fuck!

No way . . . Mmmmm. Ohhhh.

Nooooooo. Waaa . . . Fuck . . .

"Justin," Brian managed not to scream the name, but he could hear how odd his voice sounded. "Enough already," he yelped as one more finger made its way inside.

He could feel Justin's smile pressed against the skin of his shoulder blade. The boy knew better than to comment aloud, though. Gently, slowly, the pressure inside him withdrew. He did squirm then, just a bit. It was completely involuntary - as Justin's fingers pulled back, Brian's ass tried to follow them - he didn't react in time to stop himself. But he did manage to stifle the accompanying groan, thank fuck.

'Good boy!' Justin didn't make him wait all empty and needy for long. Almost immediately, Brian felt the head of his lover's nice plump cock nudging against his opening. He wanted to moan aloud. He wanted to sing. He wanted to scream out Justin's name in thanksgiving. But all he allowed himself was a muffled grunt into the pillow as he panted through the first little pinch of pain and pleasure.

It felt so incredibly good. It had been way too long. And Justin's cock was so perfect - thick and hot and filling him just the way he'd imagined. He wished only that they were fucking in front of a mirror so he could watch as that beautiful specimen of manhood slid into him, his tight skin stretching around and swallowing the delicious lengths until Justin's balls were snugged up firmly against his scrotum.

He wondered if it looked as good as it had last night with Mr. Muscles. Was his skin stretching as tightly around Justin's dark purple rod? Did the contrast between their skin tones stand out so gloriously? Could the sight ever be as purely erotic as the vision he'd been fantasizing about all day? That particular fantasy image, thrusting back into his consciousness, pushed him almost past his limit. He felt a gush of wetness against his own belly, which was absorbed quickly by the sheets, and he bit the pillow harder.

By the time he'd regained some measure of control, Justin was fully inside him and had started gliding in and out with long deliberate strokes. It was delicious torture. Each passage creating internal ripples of friction that swelled, adding to the sensation of the one before, the tiny waves of pleasure mounting higher and higher.

After that, a tiny shift of his weight was all it took. The new angle allowed Justin's rock hard rod to hit the precise spot that shattered Brian's hard-fought control. He cried out his long held-back passion. His body convulsed. He knew he was moaning and panting and writhing but he had no idea what he was saying. He knew Justin was moaning out his own indecipherable ecstasy.

Every nerve in his body was on fire. Sensations, colors, emotions he couldn't name coursed through him, washing over his soul with a sudden shock and heat as he let everything go for once. His muscles spasmed as his body reared back trying to meld itself to the heat of the man behind him. Through barely open eyes he watched streamers of sticky white cum shooting out to decorate the wall next to the bed in abstract studies of passion. Then the fire was washed away by a cool rush of endorphins flooding his system and leaving him gasping, unable to support his own body, blissfully slumping back against the smaller yet remarkably strong body that was the only thing holding him in one piece.

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Chapter 3 - The Discovery.

The post-coital bliss enveloped Brian in a fuzzy happy haze. He never wanted to move. He wanted to lay here with Justin's cock still inside him for the rest of his life. He felt protected, cherished, fulfilled like never before. Wraped in Justin's warm body, Justin's arms holding him safe and Justin's cock filling the emptiness at his core. He reveled in this brief moment when, for once, he relinquished control and allowed someone else to take care of him.

Brian let his lips curl up at the corners in an 'Evil Genius' type smile, more than pleased with himself. That had been EXACTLY what he needed. The itch was scratched - hopefully for another decade or so. He'd got what he needed and now he could go back to his carefully choreographed life, being the carefree Stud that he liked people to see.

Only . . . Fuck that was GOOD! Brian was certain that he'd never been fucked that well ever in his not-quite-yet-thirty years of life. Justin had been so sweet, considerate and yet he wasn't a slouch in the action department either. Oh yeah! So hot. Soooooo, soooooooooooo very good.

However, whether it was a good fuck or not was irrelevant. Brian tried to orient his thoughts on a safer heading. He was Brian fucking Kinney - brilliant, successful Ad Exec by day and shameless gay lothario by night. Brian Kinney was nobody's bottom boy. He was THE ultimate top. That's how he liked it and that's how it would remain.

Brian Kinney didn't bottom. It was as simple as that. Nothing more to say.

Just then his warm blond blanket shifted a little, interrupting Brian's internal pep talk. Justin stirred, reaching down to secure the rim of the condom as he started to ease out his softening cock. Brian didn't even think to stifle his sad whimper as Justin finally pulled out and rolled off his back. Brian once again felt empty. It hurt - the sense of loss, of something essential gone missing, actually caused a sharp twinge of pain in a place deep inside him that he didn't like to acknowledge.

His fucking emotions were uncharacteristically all over the place. Brian felt like sobbing aloud at his loss. He wanted to force himself back into Justin's embrace and beg the other man to please love him, please, please, please don't ever leave him. Please stay and . . .

Brian shook his head and took a deep breath. He had to get all this nonsense out of his head. Those were crazy thoughts. That wasn't HIM. That was some clingy, needy fairy boy. That was NOT Brian Kinney. Shit, what was wrong with him the past few days? he was never this needy or sentimental. Those emotions were banished forevermore! Unacceptable!

"Thank you, Brian," his adorable blond whispered huskily as he deposited one last tender kiss on the confused man's slightly-stubbled cheek. "That was truly the best birthday present I've ever had in my entire life!"

Brian pretended to ignore the comment. He needed to regain his sense of control. If he made eye contact with the overly-emotional young blond, he'd likely get sucked right down into that whirlpool of sentimentality along with the boy. No more emotion. No more weakness. Time to get yourself back together, Kinney.

Justin smiled indulgently down on his stoic lover. He had a good idea exactly what thoughts were going through that handsome, stubborn head, but he wouldn't dare say anything. He knew how hard Brian worked at keeping up his lofty facade. The intuitive young man had already had enough glimpses through Brian's protective camoflage to understand the struggle his man must be going through right now. He loved Brian. If Brian needed a moment to reestablish his boundaries, Justin could easily give him that.

With one last tender kiss to Brian's shoulder, Justin rolled away and gracefully hopped out of bed. He padded quietly to the bathroom, tossed the used condom, cleaning himself up and unobtrusively taking care of sundry other business while giving his lover some needed space. After about five minutes, he figured it was safe to go back to bed - Brian had most likely got himself back together by then. Before he left, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm tap water to get it wet.

Justin found Brian lying on his stomach, dozing in the same position in which he'd left the sated brunet. Trying to make as little a stir as possible, Justin crawled back into the bed, kneeling close to his lover's side, and began to minister to the beautiful sleepy man. He used the warm wet towel to first wipe down the sweat-salted skin of Brian's shoulders and back and then moved lower to clean away what he thought was a large glop of lubricant that was marring the beauty of one well-toned butt cheek.

Only, it wasn't just lube. The globule was too cloudy and sticky. 'Jizz does seem to fly all over sometimes when we're at it like sex-starved monkeys,' thought Justin, not really all that surprised at his little discovery.

He still was awed at the thought that Brian had let him top. It had been a particularly recurrent fantasy of his for quite some time. He never thought he'd get the chance to actually do it, though, and had long ago resigned himself to the mere fantasy. But, undoubtedly the reality had been even better than the fantasy. Brian had been so tight - sliding into him had felt so good, so right. And, the way Brian had lost it at the end, pleading and moaning all those delightful endearments that Justin knew he'd likely not hear again (or at least not for a very, very long time), made the encounter even more special. Fuck, he would never forget this night!

As he wiped away the mess, he reminisced about some of their more 'athletic' moments, both from last night and from the past couple of months. At least no one would ever say that being with Brian Kinney was dull! Justin continued to swipe the wet warm cloth over his lover's body, a secret smile adorning his face and giving away his thoughts. Just when he thought he was done and was wondering if he should wake Brian enough to roll him over and continue with the sponge bath or if he should just leave him alone, lying in the wet spot all night, Justin noticed another spot of jizz peeking out from between Brian's cheeks.

Now Justin was starting to get a little bit more concerned. He gently spread Brian's cheeks a bit more and used the washcloth to swab along the crevice. It took a couple swipes. There was far more mess than there should be even if they had been engaged in hot monkey sex . . . which really hadn't been the case, after all . . . So why . . .

Justin froze and his eyes got wide. Then he jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, pulling the trashcan from its corner and holding it up to the light so he could see its contents. The condom he'd just taken off was lying right on top. He groaned as he picked it up.

All along the length of the latex, there were scores of small holes in the material. The holes weren't large, but they were visible with the naked eye and there were lots of them. Justin picked up the evidence and looked closer, hoping he wouldn't see what he was clearly seeing. Holes. Residual cum dripping out the many little holes. Cooled cum that was viscous, thick and . . . Sparkly?

Justin looked at the washcloth he still had in his other hand and saw that it was also covered with a myriad of tiny specs of glitter. He wiped one little spec off with his fingertip, holding the tiny mote up even closer, and groaned again. It was a minuscule, flattish square-shaped crystal with very sharp edges.

"Brian. . . " Justin called out from where he stood frozen on the bathroom tiles, abandoning his plan to let his lover sleep. "What do they use in the glitter at Babylon that makes it so shiny? It's not just cut up Mylar confetti like at other places. Do you know . . . "

"Huh?" came the aggravated and sleepy reply.

"What do they make the glitter at Babylon out of, Brian," Justin yelled back insistently.

"Who gives a crap, Justin? It's just glitter. It's bright, it sparkles. Glittery naked men are hot. End of story. Why do you care what the shit is made out of," was Brian's predictably annoyed response and Justin could hear the man rolling over and getting re-situated in preparation for going back to sleep.

"Fuck!" Justin mumbled, dropping the trashcan, grabbing the condom and the cloth covered with more evidence and shuffling back out to the bedroom. "Um, Brian . . . It's kind of important . . ." He tried again as he neared the bed. "Do you know what they put in this glitter?"

"Shit, Justin, I don't kn. . . Wait . . . " Brian rubbed at his tired eyes. "I think the Sap told me once that he added ground mica dust to the usual confetti stuff because it sparkles more, or some shit like that. Why do you care," Brian asked again, now fully awake and moving to sit up a bit.

Justin held up the dirty washcloth. "Mica? As in . . . small pieces of rock that flake off into flat, sharp edged crystals?" he stated in a worried tone as he also held up the shredded condom in mute explanation.

"Fuck!" Brian whispered as the tattered, holy condom dangled in front of his face. "Fuuuuuuuccccckkkkkk!"

Brian slid sideways as he collapsed back into the dubious protection of the bedding. Justin dropped both pieces of damning evidence on the floor and moved towards his distraught lover, still chewing on the corner of his bottom lip with worry, needing the comfort of Brian's touch right now. The older, but obviously not much wiser, man conceded with a huge sigh and rolled so that he could wrap his arms about the nervous teen.

"It's my fault," he tried to explain. "I. . . I liked the glitter all over you. It sparkled so much . . . And the blue lighting, you know . . . It was so cool . . . And, then I thought, I thought it would look even hotter if your dick was . . . was sparkling like that, too. So I . . . I . . . I kinda spread some that had flaked off . . . alloveryourdick." Brian finished quickly, as if hoping that by getting it over his misdeed would remain hidden.

Justin had already surmised as much, so he didn't bother to say anything.

"Don't worry," Brian tried to console them both. "I'm sure everything will be okay. I just got tested about six weeks ago and I was fine - totally disease free - and I'm always safe . . . Shit, well, almost always safe . . . So I'm sure the chances of you getting sick are minimal. You'll be fine, Justin. We'll both be fine . . . "

Brian's words tapered off, his voice dying as his conviction gave out.

'Why? Why had he done something so STUPID? Why hadn't he remembered that shit about the glitter! Why would he even care about how pretty Justin's cock would look with glitter on it? Was he fucking going insane?' Brian's thoughts whirled. 'First he goes all obsessive about the scene at the Baths. Then, out of the blue, he decides he just has to get fucked. Finally, in some lust-blinded frenzy he does something so incredibly stupid that now he'd put Justin at risk. What was wrong with him? This was NOT how Brian Kinney worked. This wasn't him.  What was happening to him? This was crazy!'

It was a very long night. The few times it looked like Justin might start to say something, Brian immediately quelled him with a scowl. They simply sat together, propped against the headboard of the bed, their arms around each other but their thoughts drifting miles apart.

It was a very long night.

#######BBBBB#######

Brian was the first one up the next morning. Justin had managed to doze off and on, but was awake again as soon as Brian jumped out of bed. Justin listened as Brian moved around in the loft, using the toilet, brushing his teeth, starting the coffee maker just like always. He heard Brian's voice, apparently talking on the phone a couple of times, but he couldn't hear what was said. He whined a little when he glanced over at the clock and noted it was only a quarter till seven.

"Come on, Sunshine. Get up!" Brian demanded picking up clothing off the floor as he headed for the bathroom. "If you hurry your bubble butt up, we'll have time for breakfast at the Diner before I take you to school."

They were both tired and too distracted to enjoy showering together this morning. But, even with everything weighing down his mind, Justin couldn't help but admire his lover's tall, lanky frame. Brian was so beautiful. Even with no sleep, his eyes red and outlined with black tired smudges, he was the most beautiful man Justin had ever seen. If anything, Brian looked even hotter than usual this morning. Maybe it was just the fact that he was still reeling from the memory of having topped him last night - Justin couldn't help thinking about Brian's tight, hot ass and how good it had felt when he'd first penetrated its depths. But, whatever it was, he thought the sexy brunet was probably the most arousing man he'd ever meet.

Even after all that had gone down last night, Brian still managed to look ravishing this morning. The way his skin practically glowed under the bright fluorescent lighting as the beads of water from the shower dripped down his taut pecs. His cock - so tempting and perfect even when he wasn't hard. And, when Brian dropped the bar of soap and then bent over to pick it up, Justin couldn't help wanting to slip his dick back into that beautiful knot of tight muscles. Brian was basically sex personified. How could anyone not want to fuck him?

Brian pointedly ignored Justin and his erection. In a thoroughly business-like fashion, the older man hustled them both out of the shower, chivvied the boy along till he was dressed and ready to go, and then rushed the both of them downstairs to the Jeep.

They were lucky that the Diner was relatively empty this morning, so there was hardly any wait before their food arrived. The only thing that slowed them down at all was Brian's insistence on waiting for a second serving of the Diner's signature greasy hash browns. Both Debbie and Justin thought it odd that Brian would break his usual diet and gobble down hash browns, of all things. But, when he finished his first plate and ordered a second serving, they both stared in amazement.

"What?" Brian demanded as Deb just stood there, order pad in hand, incredulity evident on her usually unflappable face. "Did I not speak English? I want more hashbrowns. Do you have some problem with that?"

"But, you never eat shit like that, Brian," Debbie tried to explain her hesitation.

"Well, today I do. Your little Sunshine here kept me awake all night and I'm starving. Plus, I've been craving hash browns all week. I might as well indulge just this once and then I'll be rid of the stupid craving. I'll just do an extra half hour on the treadmill this afternoon. It's no big deal. Now, do you think you could get me my food, Deb?"

Debbie hustled off to put in the order without further comment. Justin went back to his own breakfast. Pretty soon the hash browns were served, eaten with gusto, and then the boys were off, speeding to get Justin across town so he'd be on time for school.

As Justin was getting out of the Jeep, Brian grabbed his arm. "I'll pick you up. We've got an appointment at 3:45 this afternoon at the clinic to get tested," Brian explained, looking abashed and not quite meeting the younger man's eyes as he spoke.

Justin nodded resignedly and headed towards the front doors of St. James' Academy.

########BBBBBB##########

Chapter 4 - All the Signs.

Sunday night family dinner at Deb's - it was the usual chaotic scene. Everyone had shown up tonight: The munchers with baby Gus in tow, everyone from the gang, Deb and Vic of course, even a couple of newbies - Michael's new love interest, Dr. Dave, and Justin's fag hag, Daphne. How they all managed to crowd around the one small table in Debbie's tiny kitchen was a miracle on par with the famous 'Loaves and Fishes' of biblical fame. Somehow it was managed, though, and the bounteous food was being gobbled up all round.

Justin had been maneuvered into a seat across the table from where Brian was sandwiched between Michael and Lindsey. Neither Brian nor Justin had said anything about what had happened the night of Justin's birthday celebration. In fact, Justin was pretty sure that Brian had been avoiding him the whole rest of the week. He wouldn't even look back at Justin, in spite of the fact that the youth had been staring across the table at him through the whole meal. Justin had no clue what was going on but he knew he could wait it out and eventually Brian would let him back in.

Everyone was talking over each other about nothing much in particular, when all of a sudden, Brian shoves his chair back and doubles over in his seat screaming out, "Owwww!"

There was instantaneous silence while all eyes turned to watch as the usually taciturn stud gripped his middle in obvious pain. The stunned silence lasted until Brian's second exclamation, "Oh, fffffffuck!" Then all hell broke loose as the entire table full of people stood up, knocking chairs every-which-way, as they all tried to converge on Brian.

"Brian? Brian, what's wrong," Michael's whiny voice was higher pitched than usual and cut through all the other noise. "Are you okay? Tell me what's the matter, Brian?"

"Shit! What the fuck did you put in the lasagne, Deb? Ground up glass?" Brian groaned. "My stomach's fucking killing me. Ohhh, fucking owwwwww, already!"

Brian was huffing and panting, trying to fend off the weird cramping in his gut. Several people were hovering around him, fretting, worrying, asking too many useless questions and all the time blocking out the only two people who had any medical knowledge that might help - David and Daphne. Suddenly a loud, imperative voice cut through all the useless chatter.

"Stop!" Justin's commanding tenor voice rang out from the far side of the table. "Let David through!"

Amazingly, this simple command worked and almost everyone backed away from the patient, allowing David Cameron and a hestitant Daphne Chanders to approach. While the rest of the spectators milled around and pretended they weren't hovering, the chiropractor and the pre-med student asked Brian questions while they soothed his fears. Eventually, whatever had been causing Brian's distress eased and he was able to sit up again, although his face remained pale and he still looked very worried.

Meanwhile, the remains of the dinner were cleared away and most of the guests moved off to the living room. Debbie, Michael and Lindsey continued to hover, drifting back and forth between Brian and the far end of the kitchen, but they mostly stayed out of the way. Justin stayed in his place, still seated at the table but watching everything that happened intently. Every so often, Daphne's eyes would meet with Justin's, providing a small iota of comfort and reassurance.

The comments from the assembled peanut gallery ranged everywhere from sincere concern to Mel's snide remark about how men couldn't even handle simple cramps. She opined that was the reason only women could pull off the miracle of giving birth. "No man could handle it," she laughed. "The first time he had to deal with something as minor as menstrual cramps, a man would collapse from the pain and go running for the hills!" Everyone laughed at the absurd feminist comments and thought nothing more about it.

Since everyone else at dinner seemed fine, the food was eventually ruled out as the cause of Brian's gastric distress. David was still concerned about how strangely Brian had reacted, and he strongly suggested that Brian go to the hospital to make sure everything was okay, but the impatient patient would have none of it. The most he would agree to was having David and Michael drive him home, with Justin following in the Jeep. Everyone quickly decamped after that, flying from the scene of the incident so that they could immediately start gossiping about it on the phone from the comfort of their own homes.

Michael and David escorted Brian home and made sure the man was comfortable in his bed before they departed. Michael's obsequious attention only served to annoy Brian, so their visit was shorter than Michael would have liked. Brian just wanted them out of his loft so he could rest. Nobody seemed to even notice Justin sitting quietly in the far corner, absorbing everything that was said but saying nothing himself.

Michael and David let themselves out, locking the loft door behind them.

Justin rose from his quiet corner and spent a few minutes tidying the loft before he made his way over to Brian's bedroom. Brian, who wasn't at all surprised to see the boy who he knew was lingering in the background the whole time, simply lifted up the edge of the duvet and welcomed the company into his bed. Justin quickly divested himself of all clothing and climbed under the covers. He didn't even bother to pretend indifference - he just scooted up as close to Brian as he could get and, wrapping the magnificent body tightly in his smaller arms, he breathed deeply, inhaling the enticing maleness of his lover.

Brian must have been over the worst of his cramps by then, since his body responded instantly to Justin's presence. Their lips met and Brian immediately got so hard he thought he might pop a blood vessel. They kissed, nibbled, licked, tasted and otherwise devoured each other for long minutes before finally coming up for air. Brian was amazed at how turned on he was, especially considering how ill he'd felt just an hour or so before. But, Justin's every touch seemed to inflame him. Every patch of skin touched by his ardent blond lover left him with an overwhelming sense-memory that allowed him to trace the path of Justin's movements over his body.

Brian had never felt this responsive before. Everything about the young blond excited him - Justin's touch, his body heat, his musky scent, the taste of his salty-sweet skin. When Justin's hand slid across his chest and inadvertently brushed one nipple, he writhed and whimpered with desire. It seemed like his whole body was one big, pulsing, needy nerve ending that needed stroking.

Everything was moving so fast. Brian felt all his control evaporate. Justin was on top of him, sucking at the pulse point on his neck, stroking his sides, his thighs, licking down his chest and then - ecstasy - sucking at his nipples. Brian's hands grabbed and dug into the firm globes of Justin's delectable bubble butt, not even aware how loudly he was panting and moaning.

It was just so simple. Brian shifted his weight a bit and Justin's body just naturally fell into position where it belonged between his wide-spread thighs. Neither of them took the time to question it. It was going to happen and neither one wanted to stop.

Moving his body up so that he could reclaim those addictive, crushed-raspberry lips, Justin instinctively reached towards the bowl of condoms, then moved confidently to sheathe his very hard dick. Brian didn't comment in any way.

Brian's only question when he felt Justin's hands nudging apart his thighs was, "no glitter?" Justin rushed to reassure, "definitely, no glitter tonight!" Brian's lips curled up enticingly and he willingly complied, thighs stretching wide, laying himself open in a manner that he'd never even thought about before.

Brian had never let anyone fuck him face-to-face before. He'd never even contemplated it. He didn't like feeling so open, so utterly vulnerable. This was so unlike him. So out of character. But he couldn't care less right at this exact moment because, right now, he was inundated with the need to have Justin fuck him. He had to have that strong stout cock inside him or he'd perish. Nothing else in the entire universe mattered at this precise moment in time and space - only Justin's cock and Brian's need to fill the empty places inside him.

Brian felt Justin's fingers slipping inside him, trying to stretch and prepare him like the considerate lover that was part of his nature. Brian, though, didn't have the patience to wait for all those niceties. He wanted hot hard cock in his ass NOW. Since he'd temporarily forgotten how to speak, he let his actions talk for him - cinching his long legs even more tightly around the pale lithe body and communicating his overwhelming sense of urgency that way.

Brian's unashamed lust and completely unmasked responsiveness were, to Justin's mind, the greatest aphrodisiac Nature had ever contrived. He couldn't have denied his lover anything at that moment. Justin's dick was painfully hard and he knew he had to have Brian right now or he'd die. A nearby pillow was quickly put to use propping Brian's hips up higher, and then Justin aimed and dove in.

"Yes, Justin. Oh, fuck yes," Brian moaned out his bliss.

This new, very vocal Brian spurred Justin on. The youth rammed his cock deep into the warmth of his lover, enjoying each gasp and mewl his movements garnered from the body below him. Their rhythm was faster than usual - Justin pumping in deeper and deeper, egged on by Brian's husky cries. Brian's own cock, trapped between their bellies, jumped and twitched with Justin's every thrust.

Brian's climax came on him fast. Justin's meaty cock filled him perfectly, ramming into his prostate again and again. The dripping precum coating his own dick allowed the super-sensitive organ to glide freely between their two bodies, creating ripples of friction that were somehow transmitted directly from the hypersensitive head of that beautiful long rod directly to the pulsing muscles of his ass. The double stimulation swept through his body like a tsunami wave. There was no slow build up, no warning at all, before the aching knot of bliss at Brian's core simply exploded and his body rocked with the ensuing shock waves.

Justin, who'd been watching his lover's face with abject fascination the whole time, was stunned by the glimpse he got of such deep pools of passion momentarily uncovered in the expressive hazel eyes. That unguarded look of love and need and devotion was more than enough to catapult Justin to his own climax. He rammed his cock home hard one final time and then just held on tightly through his own explosion.

When his senses finally started to come back to him, Justin found himself collapsed on Brian's strong chest with his face buried in the warm delightfully musky skin of his tall lover's neck. He felt so comfortable, so sated, with all his bones turned to jello. He didn't think he'd ever be able to move again, even assuming he'd want to for some unfathomable reason.  

But Justin's moment of bliss didn't last very long. The body which he was draped around bonelessly was shaking and, after a couple more seconds, it finally registered in his slow post-coital brain that those were not happy little orgasmic tremors. There was something wrong. Brian was trembling in pain.

Justin quickly rolled to the side, thinking that maybe it was his weight that had been causing Brian's discomfort. In the process, he had to pull his dick out of its happy warm home, too. But, rather than easing Brian's distress, Justin's sudden movements caused the supine man to cry out.

"Nooo, oh Justin, no," Brian sobbed as the younger man rolled further away. "Justin, don't go, please."

A stunned and speechless Justin froze in place. A quietly sobbing Brian rolled to face him and then scooted closer to where he could snuggle into Justin's side. Brian's arm snaked across Justin's thin chest and held tight while the older man struggled to rein in his out-of-control emotions.

After a few sniffly moments, Brian's breathing evened out and his body relaxed. Justin, who had no idea what to do in such an unprecedented situation, simply laid there, his arms wrapped tightly around his overly-emotional companion, holding on till Brian's trembling stilled. By the time the distraught older man's sobs had quieted and his breathing calmed, he was sound asleep, his head pillowed on Justin's shoulder, cuddled up safely in the arms of his lover.

By morning, everything was back to normal and it almost seemed like Justin must have imagined the odd night before.

When the alarm went off at its usual time, Justin woke with his head nestled on Brian's shoulder and the older man's strong protective arms around him. Brian leaned across Justin's body to reach the alarm clock, switched off the blaring noisemaker, kissed the peach fuzzy blond cheek as he rolled back and then hopped right out of bed. There followed all the usual sounds of Brian's normal morning routine: the toilet flushing and then the shower door clicking as it was pulled open and finally the shower water coming on.

Everything seemed so normal. The weirdness of the night before vanished with the rising sun. Had it all just been a crazy dream? Had he really made love to Brian for a second time and had Brian really cried in his arms at the end? He couldn't have just imagined it all, could he?

Justin couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He had to see for himself so he sprang up out of bed and followed the busy noises into the bathroom. Brian was his usual beautiful self, standing under the shower spray and soaping himself the way he always did. Nothing seemed weird or out of place. Maybe he had imagined it all.

Brian smiled his usual seductive smile when Justin hopped into the shower with him. He pulled the boy's smaller frame closer to his own and began to soap up the flawless alabaster skin just like he always did when they showered together. Justin began to relax, comforted by the familiar routine. That sense of relaxation translated almost immediately into an erection as Brian's soapy hands worked their way down to Justin's crotch. Justin raised his head, still unsure and looked into the changeable hazel eyes of his lover.

Gone were the pools of raw, unconstrained emotion that he'd seen the night before. Brian's shields were back in place. All Justin could see this morning was the usual blend of lust, affection and self-assurance. It was a huge relief. He offered up his biggest, brightest Sunshine smile to his lover, who responded with a low feral growl, spinning the youth around and shoving him up against the glass shower wall. Justin giggled with playful delight and wiggled his ass teasingly. Brian responded with alacrity, ripping open a condom, rolling it down his rock hard dick and plowing into the sweet blond boy ass without delay.

It seemed that everything was as it should be and all was once again right in the universe.

Chapter Five - WTF?

Brian and Justin had to rush a bit to get out of the loft on time. Their shower escapades had run a little long, although nobody was complaining. It had been almost a week since Justin had felt that happy well-used throbbing in his ass, and he wished he had time to relish it. But he only had a few moments to wallow in his appreciation of the sensation. Then he had to root around in the back of Brian's closet for a minute until he found the spare school uniform he'd stashed there for just this type of emergency. By the time he was dressed and crawling around on hands and knees trying to locate his one missing shoe, Brian was fully attired in suit and tie, perfectly groomed as always, and already moving to strip last night's soiled sheets off the bed.

As he was pulling off the sheets, Brian superficially noted several small reddish-brown spots. 'What the hell,' he thought. Granted, Brian Kinney's preferred sexual practices weren't generally tidy affairs, and finding a mess on the sheets in the morning was par for the course, but there was something about this picture that seemed different. Brian didn't get a chance to worry about it too much, though, as he was immediately drafted to help with the search for Justin's missing shoe. He wadded the sheets up without further thought and tossed them in the hamper. As soon as the errant footgear was located, they were out the door, intent on getting a quick breakfast at the Diner to start the day off right.

"Morning Boys!" A cheerful Debbie greeted them before they even made it to a booth. "Just coffee? Or, have you got time for food, too?"

"Food, please, Deb! I'm starving," Justin decreed and placed his usual gargantuan breakfast order.  

"You want your usual, Brian, honey?" Deb asked perfunctorily, already starting to turn away from the table.

"Uh . . . No, Deb. Actually I'm pretty hungry this morning too. I'll . . . I'll have the 'number ten'," Brian said quietly, as if to avoid drawing attention to his unusual request.

"'Number ten', got it," Debbie noted on her order pad and then dropped both the pad and her pen. "What the fuck? YOU want the 'number ten'? The 'Butch Bottom Special', Brian? Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Deb demanded in her customary loud and nosy manner.

Brian tried to play it off in his normal disdainful and nonchalant way, but Justin could tell he was a little annoyed at Debbie for making it such a big deal. "I'm hungry," Brian explain with an unconcerned shrug. "I barely ate any dinner last night and Sunshine's been keeping me busy, so, if I want a larger breakfast, what's the big deal. I AM entitled to change my order occasionally, aren't I?"

"Keep your knickers on, kiddo," Debbie relented, adding the 'number ten' to the order. "'Double BS' for the hungry Stud, Marco," Deb yelled out to the cook as she posted the order on the spinning clipboard, effectively announcing Brian's breakfast order to the entire Diner.

Brian tried to look cool and ignore the whispers and looks directed at him after Deb's announcement. Justin looked down at his napkin, not wanting to catch Brian's eye or let on in any way that he was amused by the situation. It just wouldn't do to let Brian know he found it adorable when the Big Stud was forced to admit to his humanity - apparently, even Brian Kinney got hungry sometimes.

Debbie came back a minute later juggling two coffee cups, a glass of guava juice and the carafe of hot coffee.

"Hey, Deb," Brian added as he watched the drinks being distributed. "Add an order of hash browns to that, would ya. They were really good the other day . . ."

"Whatever you say, Hungry Man," Deb kidded as she headed back to the kitchen to change their order.

Before Justin could think up some safe topic of conversation - one that wouldn't cause the grumbling, hungry beast sitting across the table from him to tear off his head - the bell over the front door rang out announcing the arrival of three more customers. Hewey, Dewey & Louis, aka Michael, Emmett and Ted, waltzed in like they owned the place, as usual. Michael's 'Brian Alert' radar was functioning within acceptable parameters, which meant that he saw Brian at the very instant he passed through the doorway and he was immediately drawn towards the booth where his Best Friend sat waiting for his breakfast.

Michael slid in next to Brian, as was his god-given right as the Best Friend, leaving Ted and Emmett to squish in next to Justin. The young artist watched quietly from his corner of the booth. Since none of the three newcomers were aware of Brian's already ugly mood, it was highly likely that at least one of them would inadvertently say or do something to set off the ticking Brian-time-bomb in mere seconds after their arrival. Justin was prepared to be amused by the impending spectacle and was even kind of hoping it would be Michael who got today's royal tongue-lashing.

Unfortunately, Justin's entertainment never happened. The young man watched in amazement and confusion as the grouchy beast that had been Brian changed in a heartbeat into Little Mary Sunshine. Brian welcomed his friends, greeting them all with cheery little hellos and a huge, very un-Brian-like grin. Everyone was happy and cheerful and complimenting each other and Brian didn't even say one snarky or demeaning thing, even to Ted. Justin was starting to get worried.

"Well, well, Mr. Kinney," drawled Emmett as soon as he could get a word in edgewise. "You seem to be in a very good mood this morning. We were all worried after you got sick last night that you'd be a real bear to deal with this morning."

"Bite your tongue, Emmy Lou! I'll never be a BEAR!" Brian teased, smiling at his nelly friend and not even remembering to call him 'Honeycutt'. "Actually, I feel great this morning," Brian continued. "Whatever that was last night must be out of my system because I woke up this morning with tons of energy and feeling better than I have in ages. If I didn't have to get the young 'un here off to his place of higher education, I might have even been tempted to go out for an early morning run. But, no worries, Justin here helped me get my morning exercise in other, far more pleasurable, ways."

Brian laughed at his own innuendo and gave Justin a sweet little smile. Now it wasn't only Justin that was concerned - the whole table sat and stared at the pod person that had taken over Brian's body. Brian was never - NEVER - cheerful at breakfast. In fact, most days, he usually wouldn't even speak to his friends until after his third cup of coffee. Even Michael, who determinedly overlooked all of Brian's faults including his bad temper in the mornings, knew that something was very wrong here.

Nobody had time to voice their concerns though, before Debbie interrupted with a tray-full of food. Resting the tray on the edge of the table, the long-time waitress deftly unloaded plate after plate of food, more than half of which she set in front of a beaming Brian. The man was already stuffing a slice of bacon in his mouth before Deb was even finished serving all the food.

"Oh, thank you, Deb," Brian voiced his deep appreciation. "Fuck, I'm hungry. Hey, could you bring over the syrup and some butter."

Nobody else at the table said anything. They all just watched in slack-jawed amazement as Brian Kinney tucked into his plate of hash browns with utter abandon. He was halfway through the hash browns, a piece of greasy bacon clutched in one hand and his fork in the other, before he even stopped to take a breath. He was so focused on his food that he didn't notice that no one had moved, Debbie hadn't said anything in more than sixty seconds and Justin hadn't even bothered to start eating yet.  Brian didn't even notice how quiet it had gotten until he'd slurped up two 'sunny side up' eggs and was halfway though the stack of pancakes he'd drenched with butter and syrup.

"What the fuck?" he groused angrily, finally putting down his fork as soon as he realized they were all staring at him. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing, Brian. No problem here!" Ted insisted holding up both hands as if to ward off his friend's imminent anger.

"You sure you're feeling okay, Brian?" Michael asked with true concern. "You know, David thought you really should have gone to the hospital last night. I mean . . . Are you sure you're okay?"

"I told you, I'm fine. I feel great and I definitely don't need to go to the hospital just because of a bad case of indigestion," Brian maintained. "Now, Mikey, leave me alone and go get a hobby other than annoying me."

Brian tried to go back to his plate of sausages, which he uncharacteristically swiped through the puddle of syrup from the pancakes before eating, but when they all just continued to stare, he gave up.

"You done, Sunshine?" Brian asked the boy who had quickly turned to his own meal, shoving as much down as he could before Brian pulled him away. "Let's get going. Mother Taylor will probably bite my head off if I don't get you to school on time." He picked up the forgotten glass of guava juice while he gave Justin a minute, and took a large swallow, then spit most of it back all over the floor beside the booth. "Fuck! This juice has gone bad, Deb. It tastes like shit. What are you trying to do, poison me at two meals in a row! Damn, I got some on my fucking tie."

Brian's return to his more customary snarky morning persona was reassuring to everyone. Deb finally walked away to go check on the suspect juice, the three stooges got up so Brian and Justin could leave and normal levels of conversation restarted all around them. Brian sent a glare around the entire room before taking out his wallet and dropping enough cash to cover the meal on the table. Justin inhaled two more bites of his eggs and then trotted after Brian's retreating back.

As soon as the door closed behind the two men, Emmett leaned in towards his two co-conspirators and, after making sure he had everyone's attention, broadcast his theory.

"Okay, who remembers that scene from 'Alien' where the guy wakes up after having this pod thingy sucking his face for like days, and then he starts eating like crazy, totally famished, until . . . (he paused for the full dramatic effect) . . . All of a sudden the alien tears its way out of his chest with blood and guts flying everywhere . . ."

The entire Diner erupts with laughter.

From behind the counter, Debbie holds up the plastic guava juice bottle. "It's a brand new fucking bottle. I just opened it this morning. It tastes fine to me."

Nobody really paid Debbie any mind.

Chapter 6 - Obsession.

Justin's phone started vibrating in the middle of his sixth period history class. A surreptitious glance at the screen told him it was Brian. Why would Brian be calling in the middle of the school day? Normally, Justin would just ignore it - students who were caught using their phones in class typically ended up in detention and lost their phones. Justin usually wouldn't risk it. But. . . Brian had been acting so strangely this morning . . . Maybe it was something serious. . .

'I'm in class. Can't talk. U ok?' Justin hid his phone behind the thousand-page-long history tome and quickly texted.

The virtually instant reply almost made Justin laugh aloud, which would have annoyed Mr. Buehler, the history teacher, to no end. Justin put his hand over his mouth to hide the lecherous grin that the words on his phone screen elicited.

Brian: 'What R U Wearing?'

Justin: 'My school uniform, U ass!'

Brian: 'C'mon, play!'

Justin: 'No. Can't'

Brian: 'Please, Sunshine? I'm horny.'

Justin: 'So? U R always horny'

Brian: 'You never complained b4.'

Justin took a quick peek around the edge of the history book and noted that Mr. Buehler was still seated on the edge of his desk, droning away about some ancient war nobody cared about. He was so into his own lecture that he wasn't paying any attention to the class. Justin looked up at the clock and figured he had at least ten minutes before the bell would ring, so . . . Why not?

Brian: 'What R U wearing, little boy?'

Justin: 'Black leather bustier with garters. (A la Tim Curry in Rocky Horror Picture Show!)'

Brian: 'Mmmm. More!'

Justin: 'Black leather thong, fishnet stockings & sparkly red high heels! Also, a long black bullwhip!'

Brian: 'Yummy! What does the rest of the class think of ur ensemble?'

Justin: 'Mr. B's on his knees, servicing my cock. The rest R hiding in the corner.'

Brian: 'Hiding?'

Justin: 'If they move, I lash em w/ my 25' long whip! Mwahahaha!'

Brian: 'Nice! Mmmm. I need to visit the executive washroom for several mins. Later!'

Justin: 'Enjoy! L8R!'

Justin switched off his phone just as the bell started ringing. Perfect timing! With an ear-to-ear grin he snatched up the large history book, holding it low across the front of his pants to hide the results of his little sext session, and fled the room with everyone else.

Justin thought that a sweet, playful Brian made for a nice change. At least if the man was going to act strange, the sexy playful guy was lots more fun than the too-nice happy guy from breakfast. But, whatever!

#######BBBBBB#######

Brian might have finally come across an addiction he couldn't control: Justin Taylor. Of course, he pretended not to remember what had happened the night before. He hated thinking about how needy and ridiculously emotional he'd acted. He didn't want to think about it. It totally freaked him out. That was NOT like him at all. He just wouldn't think about it.

Except that, every time he moved, he felt those blissful twinges of pain in his ass that reminded him over and over of Justin. Of how his pretty blond lover had plowed into him hard and fast and deep. Justin inside him, kissing him, looking into his eyes the whole time. Ohhhh, it had been exquisite. Then, later in the shower when the boy had turned it all around and been so submissive and eager for his cock. Everything about the boy was so hot, such a turn on, Brian didn't think he'd ever stop wanting him.

He'd been hard pretty much all day.

Yes, he'd tried to resist, tried to immerse himself in work as a distraction. Nothing had helped. His mind kept drifting off and he found himself thinking up excuses for getting Justin out of school early so he could rush the youth back to the loft and fuck him over and over again.

When he got the email from the clinic announcing that all his tests came back clear, he decided to give in and use it as an excuse to call his blond obsession. If he was in the clear, it was almost a certainty that Justin would be fine, too. But, he wanted to make sure. So, he'd call and see if Justin had received his own results yet. It was as good an excuse to call as any other he'd come up with today.

The sext thing had been a momentary whim. He never thought Justin would play along. But, the naughty little fantasy the boy had come up with was so hot! Justin's creativity constantly amazed him. The kid was so imaginative and artistic, so enthusiastic about everything, so eager to please, so responsive, so beautiful, so . . .

Brian had locked himself into the men's room. He was standing with his back leaning against the rim of the sink, his pants down around his ankles, while he languidly ran his fingertips lightly up and down his achingly hard cock. He closed his eyes and imagined that it was Justin's strong, slim fingers teasing him, stroking him with a just-barely-there touch, brushing so slightly across the sensitive head, trailing a single drop of precum down his pulsing hot shaft. Justin's clear sapphire blue eyes looking up at him with a teasing smile. Justin's other hand unbuttoning Brian's shirt and rubbing against his nipples turning them into hard nubs of pleasure.

Without opening his eyes, lest he lose the fantasy, Brian fumbled around the ledge behind the sink, locating the liquid soap dispenser and filling his palm with the slippery gel. Then, it was again Justin's hand, now dripping with lube, that firmly grasped his cock, stroking the slipperiness over the length of his silky smooth skin.

Brian was breathing hard already. His imaginary blond stroking him, pulling his dick gently, caressing his balls, stroking him, touching him, sliding his fist up and down at the perfect pace. Stroking his cock. Touching him. Stroking, stroking, stroking, stroking . . . until . . .

"Aaaaaghhh," blessed release.

Brian opened his eyes, allowing fantasy Justin to disappear, as he tidied himself up enough to venture back out into the office. He looked at his watch. How much longer till Justin's school let out? Shit, he was going to have to make it through at least another hour.

He looked back into the bathroom mirror as he closed the men's room door behind him. He briefly wondered how long he could stay locked in the washroom, wacking off, without one of his co-workers making a nasty comment. Brian had already 'visited' the facilities three times today. He didn't think he'd be able to get away with spending a whole additional hour in there. Fuck! He'd just have to go back to his office and try to wait out the next hour until he could go get his newest obsession.

#########BBBBB########

Chapter 7 - Something’s Seriously Wrong.

Brian reached across the table and snatched the last two fries off Justin's plate. The teen watched as the fry thief dunked his stolen booty in the small bowl of gravy that Brian had ordered on the side (supposedly for Justin's benefit - although the youth hated the gloppy, greasy gravy they served at the Diner and would never, in a million years, defile a french fry with such slop). Brian hurriedly stuffed the dripping mess into his mouth and then looked back at his companion's plate, seemingly surprised that all the fries were gone.

Justin was actually a little surprised too. Okay, he knew Brian wasn't really quite as strict about his diet as he always made out. It wasn't the first time the image-conscious man had nibbled off his young friend's plate. But, usually, Brian restrained himself to one or two bites. Tonight, Justin had only gotten about five fries before Brian had set to and devoured all the rest. He'd also ordered and finished off his own plate of chicken fried steak, a large spinach and broccoli salad and was now turning towards the baked potato that he'd ladened with sour cream, butter and cheese. Granted, it was still early, so the 'No Carbs After Seven' rule wasn't technically being violated, but still, it was a bit odd

Deb sauntered over and dropped off the check for their meal, casually giving Brian a quizzical glance as she passed him. Brian didn't notice, as he was concentrating on his potato to the exclusion of all else around him. The red wigged waitress and the blond youth exchanged curious looks but neither dared comment.

"So, Sunshine," Debbie asked in her typical ironic fashion. "Should we expect to see you at home any time this week? You DO remember you have a bed upstairs at my house, don't you?"

"Um . . . Yeah . . . Sorry, Deb. I'll be there tonight," Justin tried to placate the mother hen.

"You better be," Debbie warned, pointing a red-tipped finger at him with mock seriousness.

Something about the conversation finally penetrated Brian's food-induced haze and he looked up just as Debbie waddled off. "I thought maybe you'd want to come to Babylon with me and the boys tonight," was Brian's not-so-indifferent comment.

Justin took a deep breath. "I can't tonight, Brian," the boy started to explain. "I've got a Physics test tomorrow that I've got to study for and I . . . "

"You can study at the loft before we go out," Brian interrupted.

"Well, yeah, but . . . " Justin hesitated, weighing the risks of being honest versus his companion's likely response. Finally, the boy made a decision and launched out with his real reason. "Fuck it, Brian! Honestly? I want to go home and get some sleep. I haven't been home since Sunday. You've picked me up from school every day this week and immediately spirited me away to the loft where you've kept me very, very busy, pretty much all night long, every night. Mind you, I'm not complaining about the non-stop sex. I'm with you up to a point on that, but, I've GOT to get some sleep and I really do have this test tomorrow and . . . "

Justin's voice trailed off worriedly. He HATED turning Brian down, no matter what the man asked of him. In fact, he'd been ecstatic that Brian had been so attentive - actually pursuing Justin rather than the other way around for the past couple days. But, damn it, didn't the man have to sleep once in a while? Justin knew Brian's sex drive was legendary on Liberty Avenue, but it had never been directed solely at him. And, frankly, his ass needed a night off.

"Justin. . . " Brian said his name, a sad undertone breaking through the usual mocking, disdainful tone. Brian looked around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation, then reached across the table, stroking the back of Justin's hand with one long, seductive finger and looking up with soulful, sad-puppy-dog eyes, he almost begged, "we don't have to go out, if you don't want. We can stay in and I'll . . . make it worth your while." The eyebrows did that sexy thing they do, arching up in a teasing fashion.

Justin hated to say no. He'd been pursuing Brian Kinney relentlessly for months now. Finally, his efforts seemed to be paying off and . . . what? . . . He couldn't keep up? This was so wrong. Something was just not right. Justin thought he had Brian all figured out and then, kablooey, the entire game changed on him. What was he supposed to say?

"Briannnn!" Michael's whiny, high pitched wail rang out, piercing all the other noises that inundated the Diner, as the small brunet deftly insinuated himself into the booth where Justin and Brian had been sitting, pushing the teen aside so that he could be face-to-face with Brian.

"Hey, Mikey," Brian replied, pulling his hand back from Justin's abruptly  and changing his tone to the usual Kinney sneer.

"Hey, Boy Wonder," Michael belatedly acknowledged Justin's presence, then turned to focus his attention solely on the singular object of his affection. "So, Brian, we're still on for Babylon tonight, right? David's meeting me there. And Ted and Em are coming too, of course. I hope there's some fresh meat for you there tonight. You were saying how the pickings have been pretty slim lately . . . "

Michael babbled on, completely oblivious to the emotions of the others sitting with him. Justin was ashamed to admit that he was thankful for the interruption. Brian's eyes sought out Justin, and the youth thought he saw a hint of wistful regret in the hazel depths, but he couldn't be sure because the famous Kinney mask was already firmly set in place.

"Mikey!" Brian demanded his friend's attention. "Stop! Take a breath. Shit, you've been babbling on for the past fifteen minutes. Do you even remember what you said? Don't you occasionally have to stop for breath or something," Brian chided, knowing his friend wouldn't take the rebuke all that seriously.

"Fuck off, Brian," Michael responded playfully.

That clinched it. Justin was officially off the hook from that moment on since the Best Friend had officially taken over. The teen wasn't sure whether to be thankful that he now had the perfect opportunity to escape for the night, or to be annoyed at Michael for usurping his time with Brian. He decided to take the pick, though, and bug off while he had the opening. He shoved at Michael until the older man got the hint and slid out, letting Justin leave.

"Wait up!" Brian demanded as Justin headed towards the door. Justin paused while the noted lothario trotted over to catch him up. Brian swiftly grabbed at the youth's arm and led the boy out of the crowded Diner before finishing their conversation. "You could come over tomorrow, after you finish with your test," he said suggestively, his body movements giving away nothing, although his voice was almost pleading.

"I could do that," Justin conceded, amazed at being given another chance after turning the Stud down before.

"Good," replied the Stud-in-question.

Brian pushed the youth backwards against the nearest parked car, Justin's hip pressing awkwardly into the side mirror. Brian's pursuit was relentless, though. He moved his body in tightly against the slender frame of his young blond, invading the boy's aura, until their lips found each other. The kiss was brief - Brian Kinney had no problem whatsoever fucking in public, but would never be caught dead exchanging tender displays of actual affection.

"Mmmm," Brian commented as he pressed his lower body harder against a trapped Justin. "How the fuck is it that you always smell so good, Sunshine," he whispered huskily, inhaling a huge whiff of the youth's natural musky sweetness.

Justin could feel Brian's hard erection pressing against his belly. The heat coming off the aroused brunet was palpable even through the layers of their clothing. Justin started to rethink his decision to take a night off as that heat seeped into him, focusing specifically in his groin. But the mood was shattered as a large group of rowdy men came down the sidewalk, shouting a greeting to the well-known pair, and Brian pushed himself reluctantly away.

"Later, Pretty Boy." Brian smiled and turned to re-enter the Diner.

"Later," Justin replied breathlessly, determined to use his night off well and get lots of rest for whatever it was Brian had planned for him tomorrow.

########BBBBB########

"So, what in the world is up with the Big Bad, tonight?" Emmett asked, yelling a bit so his buddies could hear him over the pounding disco music that was a constant at Babylon. "He doesn't seem up to his usual studliness. He's been nursing that same beer ever since we got here and I just saw him turn down two tricks?"

"It's worse than you think, Em," Ted commented, looking pointedly at his watch. "We've been here almost an hour and Mr. Kinney hasn't even made it to the backroom once."

Emmett and Ted looked at each other for a moment, trying to maintain their serious, concerned looks, and then just gave up and let the amused giggles erupt. Michael scowled at the jokesters. He didn't think it the least bit amusing. Brian wasn't acting like Brian, and that alone really messed with Michael's concept of how the universe should be ordered. Something had to be done, immediately!

"Shut the fuck up, you guys," Michael admonished his still laughing friends. "I think something's seriously wrong with Brian."

"Calm down, Michael," Ted chided his pouting friend. "Just because Brian hasn't fucked someone in over an hour, it doesn't mean the world's coming to an end."

"No, really, guys. I'm worried," Michael pulled his friends in closer so that they could speak in more conspiratorial tones. "Remember last Sunday when Brian had those really bad cramps while we were having dinner at Ma's? Brian said he thought it was just a bad reaction to some shit Anita had given him the night before. But David said it could be something much more serious and thought Brian should go to the doctor or something. Of course he hasn't. And then earlier tonight, when I asked why he wasn't drinking Beam like he usually does, he told me his stomach's bugging him. He said he's been getting the same cramps all week. What if it's something bad, like an ulcer or cancer or something? You guys have to help me talk him into seeing a doctor."

"Jeez, overreact much, Michael?" Ted kidded his overly concerned friend.

"Yeah, honey," Emmett added in a much less sarcastic tone, petting the hyper-active little brunet's shoulder to try and calm him down. "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably just a little tummy bug, you know. I mean, even the great Brian Kinney is probably subject to seasonal colds and the flu, right?"

"But Brian's never sick, Em. And he's just not acting like himself, at all," Michael said, already in high-whine mode. "Here, watch this," he added and stepped away from the group for a minute to arrange a demonstration.

Michael boldly stepped up to a tall, very buff brunet, with longish, curly dark hair and classic, handsome features. He pulled the guy down so he could say something quietly in the man's ear, pointing while he talked at the spot along the bar where Brian was lounging all alone. The eye-candy looked at the lanky stud, smiled and shrugged his shoulders, then nodded to Michael and started sauntering over to where Brian was waiting. Michael returned to his friends, indicating that they should watch the show he'd just set up.

Mr. Hunkalicious walked straight up to Brian, smiled a big toothy grin and said something the boys couldn't hear. He emphasized his offer by running one hand languidly down Brian's chest, ending with his index finger hooked into the waistband of the tall stud's tight black jeans. Brian cooly looked the guy up and down then, to the utter surprise of the watchers, he scrunched up his nose, shook his head and said loudly enough that his friends could hear, "not interested."

"Fuck!" Ted swore as they all watched the unsuccessful suitor move off to find other prospects.

"See!" Michael insisted. "I told you. Something's very, very wrong here."

"Well, you might actually have something, Michael," Emmett conceded as he move towards Brian, the rest of the group trailing behind. When he reached the empty spot against the bar next to his studly friend, Emmett looked concerned.

"Hey, Bri. You're awfully quiet tonight. Everything okay," Em asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Brian shrugged and pushed away his still half full beer bottle. "I'm bored. It's a complete Troll-Fest in here tonight," Brian complained.

All three of his friends stared in amazement at this bold faced lie. If Brian thought Mr. Hunkalicious qualified as a troll, maybe the man needed to get his eyesight checked. The gang didn't know how to respond. The Brian Kinney they knew should have jumped on the man's obvious offer, and then immediately jumped on the guy himself. Who WAS this imposter standing in front of them?

Michael was about to protest, but didn't get a chance. Brian pushed away from the bar, announcing abruptly, "I'm outta here! Night, boys!"

The three amigos stood watching mutely as the Stud of Liberty Avenue strode away, heading towards the club's exit. Before Brian got to the doors, three other potential tricks had tried to interest him. The trio watched, dumbfounded, as the great Stud blew them all off and quietly slipped out the door.

"I'm going to talk to Ma!" Michael declared, the worry on his face echoed in the countenances of his companions.

Chapter 8 - The Meltdown.

Brian stumbled into the gym later than usual on Saturday. He plopped down tiredly on the unoccupied weight bench next to Ted and then yawned. The man looked exhausted.

"Tough Friday night, Bri?" Ted asked facetiously. "We didn't see you at Babylon last night so we figured something must have 'come up' as usual."

"I don't want to bore you with all the sordid details, Theodore," Brian replied, tongue in cheek and lecherous smile in place, "but, when I left, the guy was still passed out after I'd fucked him unconscious for the third time in a row."

Brian wasn't likely to elaborate, although thinking about 'the guy' in question, who was, by the way, still rolled up in the covers on Brian's bed at the loft, made him smile all the more. It was true that they'd fucked three times last night, but to be completely honest, they'd both fallen asleep together after the last round. If anyone had been fucked out and in danger of losing consciousness after that last marathon session, it was probably him and not the eager little blond dynamo who never seemed to run out of energy. However, the guys didn't need to know that, or the identity of his bed companion. He knew Justin would never give him away.

"Now, now, Brian, sweetie," Emmett commented as he flounced over from the nearby 'butterfly' machine. "Gloating isn't pretty. Now, move your ass off that bench, I need to work on my arms. Don't want 'flabby granny' arms, now do we?"

The cheerful southerner swatted Brian off the bench he wanted and picked up a dumbbell to work on his triceps and biceps. Brian moved slowly over to the machine Em had just vacated. He yawned again and almost tripped over the equipment as he tried to adjust the seat the way he liked it.

"You're going to have to start taking vitamins or something if you want to keep up your fucking pace," Ted added his dry two-cents worth. "Especially now that you're almost thirty. You might even have to slow down just like the rest of us mortals."

"Bite your fucking tongue, Schmidt!" ordered Brian as he grabbed the padded arm rests on the butterfly machine, ready to start his workout. "I'm never slowing down. And can it with that 'thirty' shit!"

"Sorry, Bri," Ted apologized. "I know you're leery about letting people know YOU'RE TURNING THIRTY SOON." Ted said the last few words as loudly as he could without actually shouting and then snickered at the dirty look Brian gave him.

Trying to ignore the gibe, Brian turned his attention to the weight machine, ready to start his first set. He strained at the armgrips, trying to pull his arms together in front of his chest, but only got about halfway before he gave up and let the weights drop. The falling weights clanged loudly, drawing the attention of several other men working out nearby.

"Shit, Honeycutt!" Brian complained, rubbing at his sore pecs. "How much fucking weight did you have on here?" He quickly looked down at the machine but was confused when he noted that it was set about twenty-five pounds lighter than he normally had it. He had no idea why the weights had felt so heavy. Maybe the machine wasn't working right?

"What's wrong, Bri? Having trouble keeping up with the big nelly queen who's five years younger than you?" Ted couldn't help teasing some more. "Like I said, slowing down . . . "

"Fuck you, Ted," Brian spat and threw a towel in the older man's face, then moved away to use a leg machine on the far side of the gym.

An hour later, his workout over, Brian got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirrors in the locker room, clad only in a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, looking himself over. He flexed a muscle here and there as he scrutinized his physique. Everything looked good, he thought, with satisfaction.

He flexed his pecs and noted that, even though his chest muscles were sore and he'd never really gone back to finish up that part of his routine, his upper body looked good. His pecs were pumped up and looked nicely toned and full. He thought he might have even put on an inch or two around his chest. He must have worked those muscles harder than he'd thought earlier in the week. That's probably why his chest felt so sore today.

Next, following his normal routine, Brian walked over to the set of scales in the corner, dropped his towel and weighed himself.

He blinked. That couldn't be right. He stepped back and then up onto the scale again.

"Fuck!" He yelled, punching the wall next to the digital readout screen. "That's impossible!"

Unless the calibration on the scale was off, he'd gained more than a pound!

'Shit!' he thought. 'How could this happen?' He was usually so careful. He maintained a good healthy diet and he'd been to the gym five times this week. He hadn't really changed anything in his routine, had he?

Okay, maybe he'd been a little lax on his diet the past couple weeks. It's just that he'd seemed hungrier than usual so he'd been eating a little bit bigger meals occasionally. He knew he shouldn't have had those french fries last night, but they were addictively good. He'd been craving them alot lately. And the hash browns at breakfast. Oh, and the potato chips he'd had the other day at lunch - those had been really good. In fact, he could really go for another bag of those chips right now. . .

Shit! WHAT was he thinking? A whole pound. He'd gained a whole fucking pound! No more potato chips or fries. No more. He couldn't believe he'd been so careless. Well, no more. He'd cut all the potatos out of his diet, no matter how much he craved them lately. They were already gone. He would cut them out - cold turkey. Even the hash browns.

Brian fumed the entire time he was getting dressed and drying his hair. He ignored Ted and Emmett when they came into the locker room after finishing their workouts, glowering at them any time they presumed to try to engage him in conversation. After his hair was tousled just the way he liked it, Brian reached into his bag and grabbed his cologne: Clive Christian, No. 1. He uncapped the small bottle of the expensive scent he liked so well, and poured out a small amount into his palm. But, just as he was about to rub his hands together and then pat his just-shaved cheeks with the aftershave, he got a whiff of the scent and almost gagged.

"Ugh! This shit stinks," he shouted, angrily knocking the bottle of cologne away from him and immediately turning on the water faucet to wash away the smell that was already on his hand.

Ted happened to be standing at the next basin, and managed to grasp the flying bottle before it slid off the counter where it would surely have exploded once it hit the tile floor.

"What's wrong, Brian? Isn't this the cologne you always use?" Ted asked, holding up the discarded bottle.

"Yes, but there's something wrong with it. It doesn't smell right. It fucking stinks," Brian practically screamed in Ted's direction, his face an angry purple and his fists clenched, the incident with the cologne, on top if the weight thing, having driven his temper beyond the breaking point. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!"

Brian roared at the top of his lungs, grabbed his gym bag and then stormed out of the locker room. Ted was still standing by the sink holding the little bottle of cologne that broke the camel's back. Emmett, who had come around the corner to see what all the fuss was about when Brian started yelling, looked at Ted, who looked back with equal confusion. Shrugging, Ted uncapped the suspect bottle and took a little sniff.

"Smells alright to me," he said, offering the bottle to Emmett for his opinion.

"Shit, Teddy," Em enthused as he scanned the label on the perfume bottle. "Isn't this that stuff that costs, like, $2,000 an ounce?"

Em took a sample sniff. He shrugged back at Ted. It seemed fine to him too. Both men looked at each other for a few seconds and then, first Emmett, followed directly by Ted, dabbed a couple drops of the perfectly fine cologne on themselves. Ted recapped the bottle and tossed it into his own gym bag. He figured Kinney's loss was his gain and he liked the scent of the expensive cologne just fine.

######BBBBBB#######

The sound of the loft door slamming shut startled Justin. He'd been poking around in Brian's fridge, trying to find something to eat while he waited for his lover to get home from the gym. The loud noise caused him to jump, hitting his head painfully against the fridge door as he stood up.

Brian came stomping into the room, tossing his gym bag to the floor, kicking his shoes off and carelessly discarding his expensive leather  jacket on the floor next to the kitchen counter. He stalked over to the cupboard, got out a tall drinking glass and then, pushing Justin roughly aside, he pulled the large, brand-new bottle of guava juice out of the refrigerator and slammed it down onto the counter next to the glass. Justin warily moved around to the far side of the kitchen island.

Brian paused and took a deep breath. His hands were clasped around the edge of the countertop, gripping so tightly that his knuckles were white. Justin watched mutely while Brian visibly struggled to rein in his raging temper.

It seemed to work. After a minute or two of just standing there, breathing heavily, Brian let go his hold on the counter. Slowly, he reached for the guava juice and cracked open the safety seal on the plastic cap, twisted the top open and poured himself a large glass. He calmly set the open bottle back on the counter and sighed.

That's when things really fell apart. Brian raised the glass to take a sip of his favorite juice. When the glass was only a few centimeters from his mouth, Brian stopped and sniffed at the contents. Justin, standing in the relative safety of the far side of the island, watched as Brian's face first scrunched up as if in disgust at the smell, then went pale with renewed rage. The angry man turned and viciously threw the glass full of juice at the brick wall. The glass shattered into a thousand shards and the juice dripped thickly down the wall.

"It's all fucking WRONG!" Brian screamed, knocked the full bottle of juice into the kitchen sink and then sank in despair to his knees, slumping awkwardly with his face leaning against the cupboard in front of him.

Justin was shocked into complete silence and frozen in place by this display. This wasn't right. This was NOT Brian. He'd never before been afraid of this man who had been his lover for months now. Not ever. Not even that first night when he hadn't even known the man and was scared to death at the prospect of losing his virginity. He knew Brian - HIS Brian - would never hurt him. But this man scared him.

The sound of pitiful, desperate sobbing was what finally pulled Justin out of his temporary paralysis. Brian, the uber-confident, always self-assured, always able-to-handle-everything man who everyone else around him always relied on, was huddled on the floor of his kitchen, sobbing his heart out. Justin mentally kicked himself, ashamed that even for a second he'd thought badly of this kind-hearted man, and immediately rushed over to the cringing, shuddering heap.

Justin knelt down next to Brian and gently gathered the crying man into his arms. Brian resisted for only a second and then collapsed into the strong, caring arms that felt so right, so safe. Brian hadn't let himself cry like this in front of anyone in years. Not since he was a boy, crying his heart out to Michael after one of his father's harsher beatings, had he let someone in this close to him. But now, just this once, he relinquished all control, letting this sweet boy who had never judged him, see his true feelings.

"Shhh, Brian. It's okay. It's going to be okay," Justin murmured as he held the shaking, sobbing man. "I'm here. You're going to be alright . . . "

Somehow the whispered platitudes comforted them both. Justin eventually managed to maneuver the larger man around so that Brian was lying with his head in the youth's lap. Justin was stroking the baby-fine auburn hair and crooning soft nothing's. Finally, Brian's crying jag petered out and he was left just lying there taking what comfort he could from the boy's light caresses.

"Tell me. What happened, Brian?" Justin asked when his charge was finally quiet except for the occasional sniffle. Tell me what's wrong so I can help you fix it."

"It's just . . . Nothing went right today . . . Fucking Ted . . . God damned ancient Incans and their fucking potatoes . . . Clive Christian . . . And what's wrong with the fucking guava juice . . ."

Justin didn't understand most of it, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that he was there when Brian really needed him. Brian needed to let the younger man take care of him. 'Just this once,' Brian thought.

Chapter 9 - Rumors or Reality?

When Justin had Brian completely calm, he managed to convince the worn out man to get into bed and rest. An exhausted Brian had fallen asleep almost instantly. Justin was pretty emotionally exhausted himself, but he was too restless and worried to sleep. Instead, the younger man got up and went back to the kitchen to clean up the guava juice and sweep up the broken glass.

Justin puttered around the loft, ordered Chinese delivery, puttered some more, devoured a large carton of Orange Chicken and another of Veggie Fried Rice, thought about Brian's meltdown, sketched and thought some more. Something was definitely off with his favorite Stud. Justin was determined to finally figure out what was wrong and do what he could to fix it. The only problem was that he'd somehow have to get Brian to cooperate and talk to him - not exactly Brian's forte - if he was going to be able to solve this.

Michael had been making noises all week about how something was wrong with his Best Friend, and how they should all get together and force Brian to go to a doctor. Brian himself had repeatedly denied there was anything wrong and flat out refused the idea of a doctor. Justin had tried to stay out of it - he knew a losing battle when he saw one. But, after today, Justin wasn't so sure Michael wasn't right.

Two hours later Brian was still asleep and Justin was now getting even more concerned. Brian had seemed tired a lot lately, although Justin thought if anyone had an excuse to be tired it was him since Brian had been keeping him up till all hours almost every night. But, even so, he'd never known Brian to just take a nap in the middle of the afternoon - unless, of course, you meant the word 'nap' as a euphemism for fucking - in that case, he and Brian 'napped' quite often. Sometimes they'd even sleep for a bit after their 'nap'. But a two plus hour nap that didn't involve any fucking at all was unheard of.

Justin finally decided it was time. He was just putting off the inevitable. Time to bite the bullet and get it over with. He was going to have to wake Brian up and get him to . . . TALK.

After getting Brian out of bed, comfortably seated on the couch and served with what Justin considered a ridiculously small bowl of stir fried veggies, which was all Brian would agree to in lieu of dinner, the determined boy set to work. Getting his taciturn lover to talk to him was tortuous. It took every ounce of patience Justin had, along with a bit of light teasing, lots of empathy and tons of just plain old determination, but in the end Justin thought he had the whole story of what had caused Brian's tantrum.

Once Justin had the full story, it was clear. Ted was a jerk. The ancient Incans should be cursed for ever daring to cultivate something as delicious and fattening as potatos. Clive Christain cologn was a complete rip off. And, Brian had now decided he hated guava juice. In other words, Brian had had a bad day. What still wasn't clear was why he'd so completely overreacted.

Brian did admit that he hadn't been feeling well for the past two weeks. Ever since that night at Deb's, he'd had cramps and stomach pain off and on, although never as bad as that first night. He also admitted to being extremely fatigued - which was unusual for the man who'd always been a night owl, partying till all hours, getting a few hours of sleep and then back at it fresh as a daisy the next morning. Brian assured his inquisitor that he hadn't been drinking much - it seemed to make the cramps worse - and hadn't gone near Anita or her shit in weeks. Justin happened to know for a fact that Brian hadn't been out fucking and sucking himself into exhaustion, since Brian had kept him captive at the loft almost every night recently. So, it just didn't make sense that Brian should be so over tired all the time.

Unless there was something physically wrong.

Brian adamantly refused to even consider that possibility. He refused to even discuss it. He said he was fine and he was tired of everybody making such a stupid fuss over nothing. The two men argued about it for several minutes before Justin decided to drop it for the moment, knowing that the more he pressed the more stubborn Brian would get. Justin would get further using more subtle techniques.

The rest of that evening was much calmer. They stayed in and sat together on Brian's couch watching videos all night. Brian kept Justin snuggled up close to him the whole time, the smaller man's back leaning against his chest, arms and legs entwined, skin touching skin constantly, and Brian breathing in Justin's soothing presence. Justin's warm, clean, purely male scent alone seemed to work wonders at keeping Brian tranquil.

When they finally made their way to bed later that night, Brian was still being uncharacteristically open and affectionate. Justin thought the older man seemed even more vulnerable now than he'd been when he was lying on the floor crying in his arms. It was nice, but a little disconcerting.

He wasn't at all surprised when Brian rolled onto his stomach and shyly held up a condom with his face buried in the pillow. Brian might not be able to vocalize what he needed, but Justin understood. He took the condom, rolled it onto his already interested cock and proceeded to make love to his man, tenderly, quietly, languorously, until they both obtained the emotional release they needed to finally sleep.

Unfortunately, that had been the last Justin had seen of 'openly-affectionate-loving-Brian'. Bright and early the next morning Brian had gone into 'damage control' mode. In typical Brian Kinney fashion, he'd scared himself silly by opening up so much to Justin and was now regretting it. And, as expected, the first thing he did was push Justin away - literally - shoving the boy out the door as soon as he'd found his clothes the next morning. Justin tried not to take it personally. He'd actually kind of expected something like this. He figured he could wait it out and eventually Brian would relent and let him back in.

But it had now been three weeks since Brian's meltdown. It had been three rather difficult weeks, Justin thought. The meltdown itself could have been just the result of an extremely bad day - everybody occasionally had days like that. What was more troubling was Brian's reaction to his reaction and his seeming determination to now keep Justin at a distance - permanently.

So much for those few halcyon weeks when Brian couldn't seem to get enough of his blond obsession. These days Brian fled whenever Justin came near him. Brian had even gone so far as to start avoiding places where he knew that they would run into each other, like the Diner.  

The second hand reports Justin had been getting from the guys the entire time weren't helping. The more Justin heard about Brian's continued odd behavior, the more worried he got. Apparently, Brian's nasty moods were now standard. Nobody dared say anything to him though because of his unpredictable temper.

A beer bottle had been thrown one night after a minor disagreement at Woody's. According to Ted, who claimed to have seen the evidence, Brian had to get a new laptop computer when the old one somehow got smashed up and then tossed unceremoniously into the dumpster at the loft. It was even rumored that Kinney was the one who'd decommissioned the scales in the gym locker room by tossing the contraption out the emergency exit door into the alley.

Deb said she thought Brian wasn't eating - he'd told her he needed to lose some weight and was on some new fangled diet that sounded pretty meager. He hadn't been seen in the Diner for weeks and had failed to show at Debbie's weekly family dinners. Deb had even tried to show up at his loft with an unexpected casserole but had been flat-out refused entrance.

Michael was going on and on about how Brian hadn't been out with them to Babylon in FOREVER. Nobody had seen him at the baths in weeks and the few times he'd showed up at Woody's, Brian had turned down every single trick. Michael had been grousing about Brian's uncharacteristic behavior incessantly to everyone on Liberty Avenue who would listen. As a direct result, rumors of Brian's demise as the resident Stud were rampant. Apparently the word 'impotent' had even been whispered - which explained the beer bottle incident at Woody's. Michael couldn't figure out why Brian was mad at him when all he'd been doing was trying to figure out what was wrong with his Best Friend.

And now, the most recent scuttlebutt in the scandal: Brian had become a full-fledged alcoholic!

Or at least that was what Michael announced this morning over breakfast at the Diner. Of course he made this declaration at the height of the Saturday morning breakfast rush, in a loud and certain voice, informing everyone of his conclusion, long before he explained the tenuous evidence supporting his theory. Needless to say, once the gang had managed to get him to sit down, lower his voice and explain what he meant, it was clear that Michael was once again jumping to unfounded conclusions.

The short explanation, after weeding out all Michael's exuberant over-exaggerations and obvious errors in logic, was that he'd let himself into the loft yesterday afternoon, unannounced, and found Brian huddled over the toilet puking his guts out. Brian had immediately assured him it was nothing - probably just food poisoning or a touch of the flu. Michael, however, was sure that Brian was just trying to cover up the fact that he was drinking heavily in the middle of the day, on a weekday even, and had imbibed so much that he was puking it all up and likely to pass out directly afterward. Thus, it was clear that Brian was an alcoholic and they needed to stage an intervention.

When questioned further, Michael was unable to confirm that he had actually seen any alcohol around, smelled alcohol on Brian's person or noted any other behavior that might indicate Brian was inebriated. And, since Brian had thrown him out of the loft as soon as he'd stopped being sick, threatening to take away Michael's key if he ever again came into Brian's home unannounced when it wasn't an emergency, Michael hadn't really had a chance to check whether or not there was alcohol involved. Nonetheless, Michael was absolutely convinced he'd solved the big Brian mystery. Ted and Emmett were still trying to talk him down when Justin finished his shift at the Diner and left in disgust.

Justin had finally had enough. He had given Brian his space and time to get over himself. Now it was time to get some answers.

Justin went straight to the loft. He rang the buzzer at the front door a couple times but there wasn't any answer. Justin could see the Jeep parked at the end of the block, though, so he was pretty sure Brian was home. He figured he'd just sit on the stoop and wait, but then, fortuitously, a neighbor he knew came bustling down the sidewalk laden with several grocery bags. Justin popped up and offered to help with her bags. She gratefully handed over about half her load and keyed open the door so they could enter.

After helping to unload the groceries, and being rewarded with a soda for his efforts, Justin headed up to the top floor and Brian's door. Using the meaty side of his fist for good effect, he hammered on the door with a steady, tireless rhythm, guaranteed to annoy anyone hiding inside until they relented and opened the door. Brian caved much sooner than Justin had expected, pulling the loft door open after less than two minutes.

"Which one sent you," Brian demanded in a raspy voice, blocking the doorway with his body. "Debbie or Michael?"

"Neither," Justin replied trying out his most charming smile. "I came of my own volition in a possibly fruitless attempt to save your reputation and guard your honor. Can I come in?"

Brian huffed a little laugh and shook his head but still stepped back and gallantly waived his visitor in. With his first step inside, it was clear to Justin that something was wrong. The loft was a mess. There were half empty food containers all over the kitchen counter and the table. There were clothes strewn about on the floor. The air was heavy and smelled funky. Justin had no idea how Brian, the neat-freak bordering on OCD, could stand it.

Justin pushed an empty pizza box out of the way and set his messenger bag on the counter then turned around to survey Brian himself. The man was almost as much of a mess as his apartment. Instead of his usual dressy casual slacks and shirt, or even a less dressy pair of jeans and a wife beater tee, Brian was attired in dirty sweat pants and a rumpled, stained tee shirt that had a hole under one arm. Justin didn't even know that Brian had owned such disreputable looking clothes. And yet, the proof was standing there in front of him.

On top of everything else, Brian looked unkempt. He obviously hadn't shaved in a couple days, his hair was flat and unwashed and he had huge dark circles under his dull looking eyes. And, not to put too fine a point on it, he smelled bad, too.

"So, where to start?" Justin figured he might as well just dive right in. "Michael announced this morning at the Diner that you're an alcoholic. Deb's convinced your anorexic. The rest of the family is withholding judgement for the time being but Ted and Em are both concerned you have serious anger management issues and probably need counseling. The rest of Liberty Avenue has their own varied opinions - I've heard everything from a serious heroin addiction to something really whacked about you having to hide out from a mafia hit man."

"I like the hit man one," was Brian's only comment as he walked over and slouched down on the couch.

Justin followed and plopped down on the couch next to Brian. "Care to inform the public about what's really wrong, Mr. Kinney? Or do you enjoy being the subject of rampant, unfounded rumors?" Brian's mouth started to open but Justin just held up one hand in a 'Stop' gesture. "Can we just skip the part where you say 'I'm fine!', I tell you 'I don't believe you', we argue a bit and then you finally come clean and admit whatever's the real problem? It'll save a lot of time."

Brian sighed, rubbed both hands over his face and then slumped even deeper into the couch cushions signaling his defeat. "I feel like crap?" he offered, making the statement sound like a question. Then he shrugged and added, "it's probably just the flu . . ." Brian himself didn't sound convinced by this diagnosis.

"Have you seen a doctor?" Justin asked.

"Several," Brian said then broke into a little half smile. "In fact I saw two doctors I know last week at the baths - they both give great head!"

"Smart ass," Justin relented with a little smile of his own. "You know what I mean."

"Justin, I don't need to go to the doctor's," Brian's pissy side came back out in full force. "They'll just tell me it's the flu and send me home with instructions to get lots of rest and drink plenty of fluids. Which is what I was TRYING to do when you barged in here."

"Brian, I don't think this is just the flu," Justin responded, trying to keep the pleading note out of his voice. "It's been going on for weeks and . . ."

Justin wanted to add that he was worried. That he loved Brian. That he'd do anything to help Brian no matter what was wrong. That he'd always be there for Brian. But he didn't, because Justin knew Brian wouldn't listen to any of that type of sentimental drivel. Justin could see in his eyes that Brian was already shutting down and preparing to argue the matter. But he had to do something, say something, to get Brian to listen and get real help.

Justin quickly decided on a strategic partial retreat. "Have you eaten anything today?"

Brian shook his head but refused to look at Justin.

"Okay," Justin sighed, patted Brian's thigh and then stood up. "You sit here and rest. I'll see what I can do about some lunch."

"Justin," Brian attempted a half-hearted protest.

"Rest!" Justin interrupted, pointing at the couch and looking at his patient sternly as he moved towards the kitchen.

Ten minutes later Justin was back with a bottle of water and some lightly buttered wheat toast. He'd also managed to tidy up the kitchen a bit and had gotten rid of most of the trash. Brian was curled up in a pathetic ball at the far end of the couch, his eyes closed but clearly not asleep. He was rocking his body slightly and biting his bottom lip, clearly in distress.

Justin set the food down on the coffee table and laid a cool hand on the sick man's sweaty brow. Brian's skin felt a bit warm, a little clammy, but not really feverish. Justin didn't think this was a mere virus.

"Hey, big guy. Time for lunch," Justin said quietly, shifting so he would be able to help Brian sit up.

"I don't think I can, Justin," Brian mumbled, laying there with his eyes still scrunched tightly closed.

"It's just toast, Brian," Justin replied. "You'll feel better if you get something in your stomach. Come on, just try a bite or two."

Brian groaned and rolled over, accepting Justin's offered hand to help himself sit up. He looked down on the plate of toast and examined it from afar as if it were something he'd never seen before. There was a look of abject distaste on his face that would have been funny if Justin weren't so worried. Finally, after working up his courage, Brian picked up one toast triangle and tentatively nibbled at the point. He swallowed the small bite carefully, then waited to see what would happen.

Apparently the first bite seemed like it would stay down. Brian sighed and delicately nibbled again at the toast. He managed about four tiny bites then set the toast down and indicated to Justin that he wanted some water. Justin, who'd been following these developments with great interest, quickly cracked open the water bottle and handed it over. With almost as much care as he'd approached the toast, Brian took a minute little sip of water and then waited again.

Everything seemed to be going so well. Justin relaxed and sat down in the nearby armchair. Brian picked up the toast again and took a slightly larger bite this time.

But, before he could swallow, Brian dropped the slice of toast on the floor and his face turned a fascinating shade of celadon green. The man took two or three deep breaths through his nose, trying to keep control. Unfortunately, this didn't work. Brian clamped his hand across his mouth, jumped up from the couch and ran to the bathroom.

Justin hung his head in defeat. He picked up the toast and carried it away to the kitchen then followed the sounds of nausea towards the bathroom. When he got there, he found Brian sitting on the floor, his head resting tiredly against the toilet seat, one arm draped across the back of the toilet and the other hooked around the flush handle. justin knelt down next to the exhausted man and tried to comfort him by lightly running a hand down the sweaty back.

"Just kill me now," Brian rasped in agony.

"No way," Justin replied in a teasing tone, trying futilely to lighten the mood. "I like having you around too much . . . When you're not puking, that is."

Wrinkling up his nose at the more-than-unpleasant odors surrounding his prostrate lover, Justin stood up and started to pull off his own clothes. "How about we try a shower instead of food, hm? Maybe you'll feel better once you're cleaned up a bit."

"I don't have enough energy to bathe. I'll just sleep here on the floor by my trusty toilet," Brian tried weakly to joke back. "Go. Save yourself. Just leave me . . ."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, big guy. Your corpse would just stink up the place. So, upsy-daisy. Let's go. Shower first and then, if you're a good boy, I'll take you to bed," Justin said with an insincere leer that raised a tiny smile on Brian's sad face.

Justin reached down a hand towards a huddled Brian. Glancing once more at the toilet as if to determine if it was safe to leave, Brian grabbed ahold of Justin's hand and climbed ungracefully to his feet. He stood there, wobbling a little, while Justin tried to pull off his shirt and hold him up at the same time. After successfully dealing with the shirt, Justin pushed down the baggy sweat pants and helped Brian step out of them. Then, leaving Brian standing in place on his own, Justin briefly turned to open the shower door and start the water.

"Justin?" It was a little breathy whimper almost unheard over the noise of the shower coming on.

Turning back as quickly as he could, Justin watched in horror as Brian's eyes rolled up into his head. Then the tall man sank bonelessly to the floor in a dead faint.

Justin managed to grab the limp body just before Brian hit the floor. He laid the tall, heavy man down on the tile floor as gently as he could. He scooted around quickly so that he could raise the unconscious head up onto his thigh. Brian's eyelids started to flutter open almost immediately but it took him a minute or two to focus on the worried blond hovering over him.

Justin gently brushed the sweaty auburn locks back off Brian's damp forehead. "Well, you've got two options left, Brian," Justin announced matter-of-factly. "Do you want me to drive you to the hospital now or should I call an ambulance."

Chapter 10 - The Big Reveal.

Brian had finally quieted and drifted off into a light doze, which meant that Justin could now relax too. The tired teen gently removed Brian's fingers from where they'd been cinched around his forearm in a death grip and moved over to the armchair in the corner of the hospital room. He collapsed into the well-cushioned chair, so exhausted he couldn't even think straight.

After fainting in the bathroom earlier in the afternoon, Brian had readily agreed to having Justin drive him to the hospital. The fact that Brian hadn't tried to argue even a token amount had scared Justin almost more than the fainting. Justin made Brian stay seated on the floor until they were both redressed, then draped Brian's longer arm over his shoulder and practically carried the older man down to the Jeep.

Once at the hospital, Brian had been ushered off into an ER cubicle, dragging Justin along with him over all protests. Brian, apparently, really did NOT like hospitals. Justin was happy to stay with him, though, because he didn't think he'd be able to handle sitting in the waiting room alone not knowing what was happening.

Brian had refused to let Justin call anyone. He said he didn't want to worry the whole family since it would probably turn out to be nothing. Again, Justin was happy with Brian's decision, because he really didn't want to deal with an interfering Debbie and a distraught Michael on top of his ill, drama queen, lover. So Justin simply contented himself by following around Brian's gurney wherever the doctor ordered him to be rolled to. Whenever possible, Brian clutched at Justin's hand or held onto his arm, needing that touch to keep his own fears under control.

The reason for Brian's fainting spell was quickly determined to be a dangerously low blood pressure level. The ER nurse immediately got him hooked up to a saline drip IV and, within minutes, Brian announced he was feeling better. The doctor authoritatively ruled out these particular symptoms being caused by the flu or any other common virus. However, since he couldn't figure out exactly what HAD caused Brian's blood pressure to drop so drastically, he refused to discharge him.

Brian would have protested, simply for form's sake, but Justin could see how truly scared the sick man was. So Justin took on the macho stud role, and weakly argued on Brian's behalf with the doctor, letting Brian save face. In the end, all parties were glad that the patient would remain in the hospital's care until everyone was sure he would be okay.

Next, various tests were ordered and Brian was wheeled all over the hospital, either lying down on a gurney or, later, seated in a wheelchair. The poor man was poked and prodded, had blood withdrawn, had various pieces of cold metal stuck into almost all his bodily orifices, was subjected to an MRI and hmm'd over by a myriad of lab coat-clad individuals. After more than two hours of this treatment, still no one had anything definitive to tell them, and it was decided that Brian should be admitted for further tests.

Because the doctor wasn't sure about his diagnosis, he wouldn't prescribe any medication for Brian other than a mild pain reliever. Brian complained he was still nauseous, although not nearly as bad as before. Justin thought he looked at least a little better after the IV - at least he wasn't green around the edges any more - but the older man was still obviously exhausted and uncomfortable. It was impossible for him to get any rest while all these procedures were happening, though. None of this helped improve Brian's mood at all.

When a nervous physicians assistant came into the patient's room just as Brian was finally getting settled and announced that there had been some problem with contamination of the prior blood sample and she'd have to take more blood, Justin thought his friend might just oblige her by popping a major blood vessel for her right then. The PA only escaped in one piece, with the new blood draw in hand, after Justin intervened on her behalf. Then he had to spend another half hour calming Brian down again.

Amazingly, both boys managed a little nap after that, since neither the doctor nor anyone else came back into Brian's room for some time. When Justin shifted in the uncomfortable chair and noticed for the first time that it was starting to get dark outside already, he started to wonder what had happened to the doctor. He glanced over at the hospital bed to assure himself Brian was still asleep and then tip-toed out of the room in search of information. Justin dispatched the first nurse he came across to find Brian's doctor and then went back to his quiet vigil.

It was still almost an hour more before there was a knock on the door and the doctor strode with authority into the room. Justin helped Brian adjust his bed so he could sit up and they both looked up at the doctor with wary but curious attention. The doctor, a grey haired, dignified, older man, cleared his throat, looked down at the clipboard in his hands and then looked back to the patient.

"Mr. Kinney, I have some initial findings here for you that we need to discuss, but I think you might want to do this in private," the doctor announced, looking pointedly in Justin's direction.

"Justin's fine," Brian replied curtly.

"Are you sure, Mr. Kinney? I wouldn't want such . . . confidential . . . health information to be disclosed without you being very sure about who was privy to . . ."

"Fuck it, Doctor . . . Whatever-the-fuck-your-name-is . . . Just TELL me already what the hell's wrong with me!" Brian demanded very vocally, more than tired of the run around he'd been experiencing all afternoon.

"Very well . . ." the doctor agreed but then seemed at a loss as to where he should start. "Yes . . . well . . . We've got your blood test results back. I want you to know that we actually ran the tests four separate times - twice on each sample we took - just to make sure there was no error. You see, this is a very unusual diagnosis and we didn't want there to be any chance of a mistake. . . I actually thought that the first blood sample somehow got contaminated because the results were so . . . out of the ordinary . . . Which is why I had another sample drawn. However, there can't really be any doubt . . . I had several colleagues double check the results for me . . ."

"Ahem! You're babbling doc," Brian interrupted before it got too embarrassing. "Fucking get to the point, already."

"Quite . . . Mr. Kinney, your blood tested positive for a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin, or 'hCG' for short. The level of hCG in your blood was significant - well above what doctors consider to be the threshold level necessary for a definitive diagnosis . . . Uh . . . Mr. Kinney . . . hCG is a hormone produced exclusively as a result of implantation by a fertilized egg in human pregnancy . . ." the doctor's explanation faltered a bit at this point and then he fell silent.

Brian was clearly confused by what the doctor was trying to tell him, although anyone looking at Justin's face would have detected the instant shock of understanding that washed over the youth.

"So, this hCG shit . . . How did it get in me?" Brian asked with complete innocence. "Is that what's making me sick?"

"Well, yes, hCG is certainly one of the hormones, among others, responsible for causing the symptoms you're experiencing. As to how it came to be in your blood, well, that's relatively simple. . . You're pregnant, Mr. Kinney."

Nobody said anything for a long, long interval of time.

"Excuse me . . . What did you say," Brian finally spoke up since no one else was saying anything.

"I said, you are pregnant," the doctor repeated and then paused again, letting the information sink in fully.

Justin toppled backward, barely landing on the edge of the chair behind him. He was staring blankly into space. The young blond was breathing heavily and looked like he was about to faint. The doctor's attention was momentarily distracted as he rushed over to make sure the youth was going to be alright.

"NO!" The shout from the patient's bed easily recaptured the doctor's attention and he moved back to the bedside. "No! No . . . No . . . No, no . . . No!" Brian was shaking his head and looking up at the doctor like he must be crazy, although somewhere deep inside you could see the truth taking hold of the distraught brunet. "No. No . . . I can't . . . No . . . No! It's . . . I . . . I . . . I . . . No. No, no, nononono. No! Absolutely . . . No . . . . That's not . . . I . . . No, no, no! No . . . . . . . . . . No, I can't . . . . . . . No. . . . . . . . . . . no . . . . . . . . . . . . no . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . no . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . noooooooooooooooooooooooo . . . . . oooooooooo . . . . . . ooooooooo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . no."

Brian's adamant denials eventually tapered off into nothing. Then he too, sat staring mutely off into space. The doctor looked back and forth between the two catatonic men and internally debated which one he should administer to first.

A half hour later, after calling in two nurses and having a slew of additional medical equipment brought into the room, the doctor was finally confident that both his patient and the visitor were once again fully cognizant of their surroundings and ready to hear the rest of what he had to tell them.

The doctor brought in pictures and charts. He showed them scientific publications and textbooks. He even brought in a computer and played a video for the two men, attempting to explain this incredibly rare phenomena. Both Brian and Justin listened but the doctor wasn't sure either had absorbed much.

Finally, Brian pulled off the oxygen mask that the doctor had ordered him to wear to prevent him from hyperventilating. "But . . . I . . . I c-c-can't be p-p-p-pregnant. I'm . . . a man?" Brian asserted, the end of his statement, however, sounding much more like a question.

"Well, yes, of course, but you see . . ." And the doctor once again pulled out his medical charts and pointed at the diagram, explaining in great deal about the very rare occurrences of male pregnancy and exactly how it was possible, at least as far as medical science understood the condition.

"But . . ." Brian interrupted again. "Men can't get p-p-p-pregnant . . ."

"Not generally, no. But you see, in cases like this, where we see certain genetic anomalies, it is possible, in very limited and specific situations . . ." and he went on with his explanations as illustrated by the various medical journals he presented to the still confused man.

"This is REAL?" Brian stopped the doctor again, pointing to a picture of a nude man, who was very obviously pregnant, splashed across the cover of one particular scientific paper. "I-I-I thought that shit was all fake . . . Like, made up by the tabloids and shit with . . . With doctored photos and . . . and . . ."

"Oh, no, Mr. Kinney. I can assure you that, although your condition is extremely rare, there have been a handful of well documented and verified male pregnancies spanning the past twenty-odd years . . ." Several textbooks were reopened and the pertinent sections were pointed out again to the confused man.

"But . . ." Brian tried again to explain why this just couldn't be true.

"Brian, stop," Justin finally spoke up from his seat a few feet away. They were the first words he'd spoken in over an hour. "It's real. Daphne and I researched it . . . We did a report in biology class . . ." Then Justin swallowed and fell silent again.

"Fine, Justin," Brian said, looking at the youth with obvious irritation. "But still, I can't be pregnant. I don't know how. I can't . . . I can't do this."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kinney, but the fact is that you ARE pregnant. It's really not a question of not knowing how. You already ARE," the doctor insisted.

"Justin?" Brian turned to his partner in crime and begged him with expressive hazel eyes to do something - anything - to just make this stop.

Justin looked up at the pleading expression on Brian's face. Then, in an instant, it finally all became clear to him. He stood up from the chair where he'd been sitting a bit removed from the central discussion, moved over to the side of the big hospital bed and leaned down, dropping a light kiss on his favorite Stud's beautiful, crushed-cranberry lips.

"We're having a baby!" Justin asserted with a mega-watt Sunshine smile lighting up his entire being.

Chapter 11 - Whose Turn Is It To Freak?

"We're having a baby!" Justin asserted with a mega-watt Sunshine smile lighting up his entire being.

"WE'RE not doing anything!" Brian screamed and pushed the grinning blond youth away from him. "This thing. . . This parasite . . . Is inside ME! I don't see you puking your guts out or keeling over because its poisoning you! Fuck this! FUCK!"

"Calm down, Brian," Justin patiently admonished the hysterical man. "It's not good for the baby. We'll get through this . . . "

"What the fuck is it with the 'we' shit, Justin!" Brian raged. "I'm the one who's . . . who's . . . who's fucked!  

"You're going to be fine, Brian. And of course I'm going to help you through this. I am the baby's . . . " Justin started to reassure him, but then was stopped cold by an insistent doubt. "I AM the father, aren't I, Brian?"

"What do YOU think, you twat? *pant* You think I'm some flouncing fairy bottom-boy who just lets every fag who comes along fuck me? ME? I'm a fucking top, damn it. *pant* I never bottom for anyone. Never! *huff* I never bottom," *huff, huff, huff* Brian's protestations were cut off abruptly as he started panting uncontrollably, unable to catch his breath in the grips of a panic attack.

The doctor quickly reached over and picked up the oxygen mask that Brian had tossed on the floor earlier, placing it back over Brian's nose and mouth and strapping it around the brunet head securely. "Mr. Kinney! Really! You need to remain calm. You hyperventilating isn't going to help anyone!"

Justin shook his head and grabbed one of Brian's flailing hands. He offered the panicky ball of nerves an appeasing smile and started petting the disheveled auburn locks in a soothing manner. Justin's soft touch, as well as the heavy oxygen he was sucking down, gradually alleviated the worst of Brian's panic. Not all of it, but . . .

"Shhh. It's okay. We're in this together, Brian," Justin muttered in a placating tone of voice. "It'll be okay. . ."

"It won't be okay," Brian almost sobbed in a tiny childish voice. "Everyone's . . . They're all going to . . . To KNOW, Justin . . ."

Justin couldn't let himself laugh. He just couldn't. It really wouldn't help matters. But he so wanted to laugh.

Brian Kinney - the man who's personal philosophy had always been, 'Who cares what anyone else thinks. If they don't like it, fuck 'em' - was more concerned with everyone on Liberty Avenue finding out that he occasionally bottomed than that he was pregnant and going to have a baby. It was probably the funniest thing Justin had ever heard. But he could NOT laugh. Not without again setting off his adorable little drama queen.

The queen-in-question was now reclining in despair on the hospital bed. Brian's head was turned slightly away from where Justin and the doctor stood and his right arm was now draped dramatically across his face as if shielding his eyes from the horror of it all. He looked so much like a swooning seductress from the silver screen that even the staid, completely professional doctor sniggered a little at the over-the-top display. However, the doctor quickly stifled his hilarity and put back on his official demeanor before Brian caught on to his reaction.

Now that it appeared the worst was over and his patient wasn't going to succumb to the shock, the doctor happily returned to business. "Mr. Kinney, I'm going to send down someone from the Obstetrics department who will be taking over your case. Since you're already here, we might as well do a complete exam as well as get an ultrasound. I will definitely be following your case with eager interest, even though I'm just a lowly ER doctor. I wish you the best of luck with everything." Then the doctor shook Justin's hand, nodded at the still swooning Brian, and was off, leaving the two beleaguered men finally alone.

Unfortunately, their respite was brief and they didn't get a chance to discuss anything before another set of medical attendants swarmed into the room. Brian's extraordinary case was handed off to none other than the Chief of the Obstetrics Department, who turned out to be a short, dumpy woman who's overly cheerful manner was destined to aggravate Brian even more. The officious little chief brought with her several followers, all excited to see this wonder of nature.

It was barely controlled chaos. Everyone was milling around, trying to look busy and official and 'Chiefy' was spouting on about how honored she was to meet Brian and Justin, blah, blah, blah. Justin could tell Brian was about to lose it all over again, when the crowd was parted to allow for the arrival of the ultrasound technician and his equipment. Luckily, at this point, several of the lookey-loos were forced to leave because there just wasn't room for all the equipment and them. The noise level in the small room dropped several decibels and Brian started to breathe a tad easier under his oxygen mask.

To Justin's surprise, it was watching the results of the ultrasound on the large portable monitor that finally served to calm Brian fully. The technician, who wasn't as flighty and excitable as Chiefy or her compatriots, efficiently set up his equipment. He pulled up Brian's hospital gown, squirted a large dollop of slippery gel on the patient's abdomen and then set the ultrasound wand into place.

The room went quiet as a rapidly repetitive 'shushing' sound came out of the speakers on the machine. The technician quietly explained that the noise was the sound of the baby's heartbeat. He moved the wand around a bit, spreading the gel as he moved and then apparently found the spot he had been aiming for. He turned a knob or two on the machine, poked the wand down a little deeper into Brian's stomach muscles and smiled.

"There's junior, right there," the tech said and pointed to an indistinct whitish blob on the monitor. "Looks like baby is doing just fine. See there," he pointed to a spot where the picture was flashing between black and white, indicating movement. "That's the heart. Now, if you'll just stay super still for a minute, I can calculate the baby's heart rate."

Brian lay frozen, his hand gripping Justin's tightly, as he stared in fascination at the black and white images on the screen.

"Okay," the tech announced. "The fetal heart rate looks good. Now we'll do some measurements to confirm the baby's exact gestational age." He used a mouse attachment to click at several spots on the image with a roving pointer, each click leaving a little marker line on the monitor. When he had enough reference points, he went back to the machine, typing at the keyboard.

"Alright. That looks good. By my rough estimate the baby is about 5-6 weeks old. Your doctor will be able to give you a more precise date after she looks over the data. It's way too early to determine gender but, do you have any other questions?" the tech asked politely, smiling at the expectant father.

"That's it? That's my baby?" Brian finally asked with sheer wonder. "It's so small."

"Yep! That's it." The tech then pointed out which of the little white bumps were the head and the little arm and leg buds. Both fathers seemed mesmerized. He then printed out two copies of the ultrasound image, handing one each to Brian and Justin.

The rest of the time at the hospital flew by. Brian refused to relinquish his copy of the picture for even a second. He kept looking down at it over and over but didn't say anything. Nothing Chiefy or any of the other doctors did subsequently seemed to phase him.

The doctor finished her official exam, gave the expectant couple a stack of reading material, and sent Brian home.

Which was when Justin started to freak out again. Back at the hospital, after he'd gotten over the initial shock, he'd known that his job was to stand beside Brian and keep him calm. That was it. Pretty simple. He could SO do that.

But now what? The doctor said Brian should go home and get some rest. Justin also remembered a comment about Brian eating a healthier diet and some reference to suggested meal plans in one of the papers in the stack of reading. But that was all he could remember. The doctor MUST have said something else, right? You can't just send someone who's pregnant home with no idea what to do next. Can you?

Well, okay . . . Rest. Justin figured that was doable. He could take Brian back to the loft and make him stay in bed and rest. But, what about the food stuff? How was he going to get Brian to eat? As far as he knew, Brian still couldn't even keep toast down. What was he supposed to do if Brian couldn't eat anything?

Was toast even on the suggested meal plan? Maybe he needed to get a special kind of bread? It probably should be organic or have extra vitamins or something. He should have read the meal plan info before they left the hospital.

Brian didn't have any real food at the loft, so Justin thought they should probably stop at a market on the way home. But, then again, Brian was supposed to be resting, not traipsing around shopping. He could take Brian home first, then go to the market while Brian was resting. But what if Brian needed him while he was gone? What if he fainted again? Brian might have hurt himself when he fell if Justin hadn't been there to catch him. No, he'd better stay with Brian.

Maybe he could get someone else to go out and get groceries for them? Who? Shit, no way was he ready tell ANYBODY about this - even assuming Brian would let him. But if he asked someone to go get them food, he'd have to tell them something. What? Shit. How were they ever going to tell the family? No. Don't even think about that. That was way too much to deal with.

Maybe he and Brian could just move away. Some place far away from Pittsburgh where no one else knew them. Then they wouldn't have to tell Debbie and the rest. Shit. Debbie was going to be insane when she found out. Michael was going to freak.

Shit, his mom! What was he going to tell his mom? It wasn't bad enough he'd had to come out, alienate his father, break up his parents marriage? Now he was going to be a father at eighteen, too?

Fucking eighteen! He was ONLY eighteen! What the fuck did he know about being a father. What the fuck did he know about ANYTHING? He wasn't even done with high school. What was he going to do?

What was he going to do?

Justin froze in the middle of the parking lot about five meters away from the Jeep.

"Justin?"

"We have to get the bread," Justin advised Brian.

"What bread, Sunshine?" Brian asked, completely at a loss as to where bread came into things.

"The bread. From the list. With the vitamins. For your toast." Justin replied, as if this should be perfectly clear and he was annoyed that Brian hadn't been paying attention.

Sunshine," Brian demanded his companion's attention. When Justin did finally focus on Brian's confused face, the older man ordered, "breathe!"

"Huh?"

"Take a deep breath and stop freaking out on me. Those tiny hamsters running on the wheels in your little blond brain are going to pass out from exhaustion if you don't stop worrying, Sunshine."

Justin obeyed and took a tentative breath. It helped. So he took another.

"Good boy," Brian smiled at him.

"What do we do?" Justin asked next, assuming that, like always, Brian would have all the answers.

"I have no fucking idea, Sunshine," Brian said and then actually laughed. "No. Fucking. Idea!"

Brian just kept laughing hysterically. Justin smiled. Then he started snickering too. Before they knew it they were both standing in the hospital parking lot screaming with laughter so hard that tears were squeezing out of the corners of their eyes. Whatever it was they were laughing about, must have been hilarious. Neither one could really think of exactly what was funny, though.

When the laughter had finally tapered off into spates of occasional giggles, Brian reached his arm around Justin's shoulders and started walking again. He used his other hand to dig the car keys out of Justin's jacket pocket. Then, he walked around and got into the driver's side seat, unlocking the passenger door for Justin.

"The first thing we do, Sunshine, is eat," Brian decided. "I'm starving. I might even be able to keep something down now. And who knows when you were last fed. If we don't get you something to eat soon, you'll probably pass out and we'll end up right back here at the hospital."

"I could go for a burger or something," Justin said and sighed.

"Of course you could, Sunshine! Of course you could."

Chapter 12 - Serious Stalking.

Brian had always had impeccable 'Parking Karma'. No matter where he drove, there was always the perfect parking spot that would just open up as soon as he arrived. Usually it was the spot closest to whatever building he was going to visit. When it was hot out, the spot he got would always be shaded by a conveniently placed tree. In the winter, his space would be the one that had just been cleared of snow. It was uncanny. But, for once Justin didn't question Brian's luck since he was starving and he didn't think he could walk more than a few steps before he'd collapse. So, when the parking space right in front of the Diner's door opened up as soon as Brian neared, Justin simply cheered.

Before he turned off the ignition, though, Brian turned to Justin with a commanding glance and ordered, "You will not say one fucking word about this. Not to anyone. Got it?"

"I swear!" Justin promised, holding up his right hand as if he was truly swearing a formal oath.

Brian didn't make any further comment. He just jumped out of the Jeep and headed into the Diner with his usual casual swagger. Justin staggered along behind him, almost dead on his feet after all the excitement of the day.

It was after the usual dinner crowd was finished and still too early for the club crowd, which meant the two boys had no trouble securing their favorite booth. Even luckier, it didn't look like Deb was working tonight. Both men breathed secret sighs of relief - it was a real break not to have to cope with Debbie after everything else. Kiki took their order without fuss and then the pair was left alone.

This meant that they no longer had any excuse not to talk about their predicament.

Brian, as was his way, was never one to initiate any type of serious discussion. He just sat there, looking at Justin, mentally preparing himself for 'The Talk' that he knew he couldn't avoid. Therefore, the floor was left open for Justin. The only problem was that Justin was still reeling and had no idea where to start.

"So, um, I don't really have that much stuff," the intrepid blond launched into what he thought was the meat of matter. "I'm sure Daphne can help me move it all tomorrow."

"Where are you planning to move?" Brian asked without any pretension at all.

"The loft?"

"Who said you're moving into the loft?"

"I thought . . . you'll need help and I should be there, because . . . " Justin fumbled.

"No fucking way! You're not moving into the loft. We already tried that, remember. It was a disaster. No need to repeat that mistake," Brian was adamant.

"But, you need someone . . . If you get sick. And, to make sure you're eating, and . . ."

"Whoa! I've been dressing and feeding myself just fine since I was about five, Justin. I don't need a babysitter," Brian complained.

"I know. It's just . . . I want to be there to help," Justin pleaded.

"I'm not dying or anything, Sunshine. Several million women survive this particular affliction every year. I'm sure, now that I know exactly what the fuck is wrong, I'll be able to handle everything just fine. No problemo!" It looked like imperturbable Brian was back.

"Well, then, what can I do?" Justin asked innocently.

"YOU don't have to do shit! I've got this," Brian insisted.

Justin was shaking his head. "I don't think that's how this works, Brian. I've got a right to . . ."

Justin broke off at a warning signal from Brian. Kiki was approaching with their food. They both sat quietly while the plates were served and then thanked the waitress politely, holding back on their discussion until they once again had some privacy. As soon as the coast was clear, though, Justin resumed asserting his rights.

"I WANT to be a part of this, Brian," Justin hissed in a loud whisper. "It's my baby, too!"

"Justin! Shut the fuck up!" Brian hissed right back. "We are not having this discussion HERE! Someone could be listening."

"Fine. I'll shut up for now. But I'm not backing down on this, Brian. No fucking way! I'm GOING to be involved and there's no way you're going to keep me out."

There wasn't much conversation between the two after that. As far as Brian was concerned, the discussion was over. Justin knew better than to just sit around arguing fruitlessly. He figured he'd take a tip from Brian’s own playbook and let his actions speak for him.

After they finished their meal - Brian had a very healthy appetite back and managed to clean his plate AND keep it all down - Brian drove straight to Deb's and practically threw Justin out. He assured the concerned boy that he was going directly to the loft and had no plans other than sleeping for the next twelve hours. He promised three times that he would call Justin immediately if he needed anything, although he also repeatedly told him that it wasn't likely and he could take care of himself. Justin reluctantly left the Jeep and trudged up the stairs into Deb's warm house.

Inside, he found Debbie, Michael and Vic ranged around the kitchen table playing cards, drinking beer and trading barbs, just like every Saturday evening.

"Sunshine!" Debbie enthused as soon as the boy poked his nose through the front door. "Come over here and join us in a hand of Canasta."

Justin scrunched up his nose and shook his head at the idea. "I think I'll take a rain check, Deb. I've got something I need to work on." The kindly matron waved him off good naturedly. Justin pulled his sketchbook out, using it as camouflage while he nestled on the couch and thought up a plan to deal with Brian.

In the background, Michael was again grousing about Brian. "I went by Brian's loft twice this afternoon, Ma, but he wasn't home. The loft is a fucking mess though. I left him like five messages, too, but he still hasn't called me back. I'm really worried about him this time."

"Didn't Brian warn you not to be using that spare key indiscriminately, Michael," Vic reprimanded his nephew. "What were you doing poking around in his loft again?"

"It might have been an emergency, Uncle Vic. I haven't talked to him since I found him puking his guts out yesterday afternoon. What if he'd, like, passed out and needed medical help or something?"

Vic just shook his head and clammed up. He knew it was a waste of breath to try to argue with Michael. He and Deb had probably spoiled the boy by being far too indulgent when he was a kid. It was too late to change things now, though.

"Michael, baby," Debbie voiced her opinion. "I really think you're over reacting here, Sweetie. Brian's a big boy. He can take care of himself. And, I admit he's been known to drink hard a time or two, but he's never been unable to control it when he wanted too."

"I don't care what you two say," Michael insisted again. "If I have to, I'll stake out his loft and wait till he finally turns up. At least then I'll know he's alive."

For once, Justin privately agreed that Michael had a good idea. Grabbing his messenger bag and sketch pad, Justin ran back to where all the coats were hung up next to the door. He quickly fished in Michael's jacket pocket and successfully extracted the man's key ring, adorned of course with a Captain Astro fob.

"I'm going out, Deb. I've got some errands to run," Justin hollered as he shoved the keys into his own pocket and dashed back outside.

One phone call and five minutes later, Justin watched happily as his best friend, Daphne, pulled up to the curb in front of the house. He wasted no time, jumping in before the girl had even pulled up the parking brake. He zapped her with a mischievous grin and signaled her to resume driving.

"So, what's this big mysterious project you need help with on a Saturday night, Jus?" Daphne couldn't contain her curiosity.

"I can't tell you." Justin stated bluntly. "I swore I wouldn't say a single word to anybody about what's happening . . However," the tricky boy added with raised eyebrows and a telling little tilt to his head, "if you were to somehow figure it out on your own, there's nothing I could do about it, right."

"Cool!" Daphne exclaimed enthusiastically. "I LOVE doing sneaky underhanded stuff! Where do you want to go first?"

"First, I need to stop by the hardware store and get a copy made of a key. Then - hopefully you remembered to bring your laptop - we need to do some research and I may need to borrow your debit card to order some books off the Internet. I promise I'll pay you back tomorrow when I pick up my tips at the Diner."

"What kind of books? You know that my mom sometimes looks at my bank statement and I don't need her thinking I've ordered a copy of 'The Joys of Gay Sex' or something."

*Pffftt* "It's nothing like that - although maybe I should pick up a copy of THAT book, too, while we're at it!" They both giggled at the fun suggestion. "It's just that the books I need are on sort of an obscure topic and I doubt I'd find what I need locally."

"What kind of obscure topic?" Daphne pushed.

"I can't SAY the words, Daph," Justin winked. "But I won't stop you if you try to look over my shoulder when I TYPE them into the search engine on the computer."

"Fine. Here's the laptop. But do the search now before you go get your keys made. I can't stand the suspense!" Daphne demanded, handing over the computer.

Justin quickly got onto the Internet and typed something then handed the laptop back to his curious friend. He waited with his lips tucked in, trying to contain his own excitement while she read the words. Daphne scanned the words he typed and broke out into a tiny squeal.

"MALE PREGNANCY! Justin? You're not . . . ?"

"Not me," the boy said, obviously just dying to let his friend in on the secret.

Daphne engaged her 'Charades' mode and started asking yes or no questions.

"Someone you know?" Justin nodded emphatically. "Intimately?" More exaggerated nodding while Justin bit at his lips. "Oh my god! It couldn't be . . . It couldn't be . . ." Again with the eager nods and a really huge smile from the boy next to her. "Brian?" Daphne mouthed the name, not daring to even voice the suspicion aloud. Justin simply kept nodding and smiling as they both squealed, and laughed and hugged and bounced ecstatically around in their seats.

"Shit, Justin. I can't believe this," Daphne said as soon as they'd both calmed enough to talk again. "What are you going to do?"

Justin held up Michael's spare loft key. "I'm going to stake out the loft. If Brian thought I was stalking him before . . . Well, let's just say he's got no clue what I'm capable of yet!"

Chapter 13 - A Return To The Routine?

When Brian awoke on Sunday morning, he discovered a fresh pot of coffee brewing and his fridge fully stocked with a variety of healthy foods. His ordinary wheat bread had been replaced with something called 'Dave's Killer Bread' that claimed to have 16 whole grains, 5 seeds, organic whole wheat flour and added B-Vitamins. There was a small yellow sticky note on top of the bag of bread that explained some shit about Folic Acid, which Brian immediately crumpled up and tossed into the trash.

On the counter next to the coffee pot, his favorite mug had already been set out and, propped behind it, was a beautiful pencil sketch of him sleeping.

"Justin!" Brian mumbled, his tone fluctuating somewhere between aggravation and admiration.

Remarkably, Brian felt pretty good this morning. He wasn't nauseous at all and his energy level seemed back to normal. It was probably just the residual effects of the pain killers and saline infusion from the hospital, along with twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, but he'd take what he could get. He poured himself a big cup full of coffee, added a large helping of sugar and decided he was even up for a shower.

When his morning ablutions were complete, Brian was happy to note that he was still feeling pretty okay. Once he was clean and dressed in his typical stylish casual clothing, he finally felt like himself again. He decided it was time to put in a long delayed appearance with the gang, so he skipped out on the 'Killer' bread and headed for the Diner.

"To paraphrase the great Mark Twain, 'Rumors of my death - or in this case, alcohol addiction - have been greatly exaggerated'," Brian exclaimed loudly as he strode boldly into the Diner twenty minutes later to a round of wild applause.

He regally sauntered over to the booth where his friends were waiting and signaled for Emmett to move so he could be seated more comfortably. The cheerful queen just clapped more loudly and immediately vacated his spot. Brian nodded genially to the assembled hosts - namely, Michael, love-interest Dr. Dave and Theodore. Emmett moved around and squished in with Michael and Dave so that King Kinney would have space.

"Briannnn, where have you been," Michael started in immediately on his patented Best Friend rant. "Why didn't you return any of my calls?"

"Sorry, Mikey. Busy, busy," Brian chided condescendingly. "I've got places to go, men to fuck. You know how it is."

"But, are you okay? I mean, I saw you . . ."

"Of course I'm okay, Mikey. I told you it was just a temporary stomach thing. And, by the way, the next time you start some stupid rumor about me being sick or an alcoholic or anything else, I'll retaliate and tell everyone how one of your balls is only half as big as the other"

"But . . . That's not true!" Michael countered irately. "My balls are fine."

"That's the point, Mikey. I'm fine, too, and you had no business telling anyone I was sick or addicted to alcohol or any other random shit you just made up. Got it?" Brian insisted, giving his oldest friend the look that meant, this time, Brian was deadly serious.

Michael gave in immediately and looked up with his sad face, playing on Brian's innate sympathy and ability to forgive. "I'm really sorry, Brian."

"Good. You should be. Now, enough about this shit. What have I missed lately?" Brian asked, leaning back ready to absorb all the latest gossip.

The gang babbled about inconsequential stuff for about ten minutes. Everyone was relaxed and getting into Sunday Brunch mode with full-on weekend scandal analysis. Michael regaled everyone with an amusing story about how he thought his keys had been stolen but then they just turned up, inside the microwave oven of all places. Brian seemed to be enjoying the chatter, just like everyone, at first. Then, a really observant watcher would have noted that the man's focus had started to drift and he looked a tad bit paler. None of Brian's friends were even moderately observant, though, and the chatter kept on apace. Someone was watching though and ready to act.

"Hey guys!" Justin in Diner-waiter guise popped up right at that moment. "Sorry, but there's been a mix up in the kitchen this morning. Your orders are going to take a few more minutes." Then the waiter tossed out a handful of packages of saltine crackers - the kind they serve you with a bowl of soup or chili. "I brought you some crackers to nibble on while you're waiting," Justin commented, winking at Brian as he spoke. "So, did you guys know that dry salty crackers like this were what old-time sailors used to fight off seasickness? Apparently the starch and salt together help sop up stomach acids and therefore kept them from getting sick on rough seas. Oh, hey, Brian - that water glass of yours looks dirty. Let me get you a fresh glass." Justin grabbed the man's water away just as he was about to take a sip and skipped away to help another table, leaving the gang all wondering what they'd done to deserve the little PSA.

All except Brian. He got the message loud and clear. He would have chuckled at the boy's determined antics, if he didn't feel quite so queasy. He quickly picked up one of the little packets of crackers, tore open the cellophane wrapper and tried nibbling at one cracker. Within about ten minutes, he noted that his stomach was starting to settle again. Score one for the ancient mariners!

As soon as he saw Brian perk up again, Justin took the table's order ticket, which he'd previously swiped off the cook's order carousel, out of his apron pocket and re-clipped it to the metal caddy in the front of the queue of other orders. The reinstated order was up and ready to be served in ten minutes. Justin cheerfully served up the plates to the hungry group.

"Sunshine," Brian stopped him just as he was about to scamper off again. "I didn't order these hash browns. And, what happened to my water?"

"Sure you don't want the potatoes? Just look at all that starchy, salty, goodness. I've also heard potatoes are high in B vitamins. Why don't you go ahead and eat them since I already brought them. And then I'll go get you some more water," Justin advised with mock-innocence, causing Brian to shake his head.

"Whatever you say, Dr. Spock," Brian mumbled as he tried a forkful of the potatoes against his better judgment, but kept on eating them, nevertheless.

"So, what's on the fun-genda for today, Mr. Once-and-Future Stud?" Ted asked with his signature sarcasm.

"I need to hit the gym since I didn't make it yesterday," Brian announced.

"And then tonight, he's coming over for Sunday Dinner with the family, aren't you, Brian?" Debbie strongly suggested as she passed by the table.

"And then tonight, I guess I'm going to Deb's for Sunday Dinner with the family," Brian parroted obediently with a mock-angelic smile for his 'Mother'.

"Good boy!" Debbie patted him on the head like a puppy as she bustled off to another table.

Justin finally returned with Brian's water. He also brought him a glass of skim milk and again smiled meaningfully at Brian as he set the glass down. "Milk is great for calcium. Which is perfect if you're going to the gym later because you'll need it to help build muscle and keep your bones strong," the little blond nutrition guru announced.

"What is with Boy Wonder today?" Michael said with a sneer. "All this stupid trivia crap?"

"He's right about the calcium, though," Dr. Dave added his official chiropractic opinion. "Of course, if everybody followed that advice and got more calcium in their diets, then there'd be a lot less work for us Chiropractors."

"So, Dr. Dave," Emmett redirected the conversation adroitly. "What's new and scandalous in the world of chiropractic care? Any new celebrity patients throwing out their backs?"

"Sorry Em, I haven't had anything gossip-worthy come through my office lately," David kidded. "But I did hear about something pretty wild from a friend who works in the records department over at Allegheny General. They had a really interesting and rare case come through yesterday: A Male Pregnancy. Apparently the whole hospital was in an uproar."

Michael, who had been drinking his orange juice at the time, snorted and spit the juice out all over himself. While he was grabbing a wad of napkins to clean up with, he scoffed, "a male pregnancy? You're joking, right?"

"No. It's real, Michael," Ted interjected. "I read this fascinating article on the subject in Discover Magazine. It's incredibly rare, though. I can't believe there's one right here in Pittsburgh!"

"Oh my! What if it's someone we know? The poor guy. It would be sooooo embarrassing!" Emmett cooed, caught between sympathy for the afflicted individual and his natural love of a good scandal.

The fifth member of the little group, Brian, just sat quietly through this part of the conversation, not adding any of his usual snarky comments. He appeared to be fixated on his almost empty omelette plate. The ugly frown on his lips distorted the beauty of his otherwise handsome face.

"Hey," Justin, The Lord of Trivia, jumped back in at that point with a well placed distraction. "Backroom Todd told me that the guy he had last night had a twelve inch dick! He said they measured it. Apparently he got pictures as proof."

Everyone tittered at that idea and the conversation moved away from recent medical news and onto an old favorite - cock sizes. Justin knew THAT fascinating topic would keep them all entertained. For a long, long while. Brian and his secret would be safe for a little longer.

The man with the big secret took that opportunity to get up and make his departure. He said a subdued goodbye and headed for the door. At the last minute, Emmett vaulted off his seat declaring that he'd join Brian for a trip to the gym.

"I want to get the number of that new personal trainer they have. You know, Scott. I think he'd be willing to help me with a little gluteal workout I have in mind!" Emmett announced jovially, wiggling his ass and flouncing after a retreating Brian, followed by peals of laughter.

An hour later, Brian was in the middle of his workout. Emmett was standing at the Training Desk, trying to work out the particulars of his date with Scott. Nobody noticed when a slight, trim blond parked his tush on the weight bench next to Brian, until he held out a water bottle to the brunet who had paused between sets.

"Ah, yes! The ubiquitous Mr. Taylor," Brian shook his head at the proffered water, but then relented after Justin shoved the bottle at him more insistently.

"Staying well hydrated helps keep your blood pressure regulated, especially when doing strenuous exercise or when the temperature is high," Justin commented informatively.

"You don't say," Brian took a long draught of the cold water and admitted, at least to himself, it tasted and felt great. "Since when do YOU have a gym membership?"

"Since today," Justin averred with a big smile. "Charles, the owner, is trading me a six month membership in exchange for helping him with a new logo for the gym."

"Very resourceful," Brian admitted aloud. "You're kind of scary, but very, very resourceful."

Brian finished off the rest of his water and then went back to his workout, studiously ignoring Justin's ongoing presence. The little blond didn't work out much himself. From what Brian could see, Justin mostly spent his gym time talking and flirting with the other members. Brian concentrated on his routine and pretended not to notice.

Afterwards, Brian took some time to relax in the steam room. It had always been his favorite part of going to the gym. Today, he seemed to be in luck as there was a particularly hot looking, dark-skinned black man waiting for him on the bench in the billowing steam, his towel puddling around his hips and his delicious looking dusty rose cock lying enticingly half-erect in his lap. It was exactly what Brian Kinney thought he needed to get his mind off other things.

Brian seated himself comfortably close to the dark little treat, and immediately reached out a proprietary hand to grasp the well displayed object of pleasure. The contrast of skin tones was beautiful: his own golden-brown skin stretched across the dark chocolate skin of the trick's belly, his pale hand firmly wrapped around the lighter toned dusky-purple-pink cock. The trick smiled at his newfound friend and his bright white teeth lit up his dark face. Brian was in heavy lust for this exotic creature.

With his free hand, Brian disengaged the fold of fabric holding his own towel in place. He heard the trick sigh audibly as the sight of a rock hard Brian was revealed. The gorgeous, dark man almost leapt off the bench at the wondrous sight and quickly moved around to kneel between the Stud's widespread knees.

Gripping Brian's thighs with both hands, the trick eagerly licked at the thick, hot rod standing up at attention in front of him. It felt so good. Brian realized that it had been a while for him, what with this and that and all the stuff happening that he just didn't want to think about right now. He shifted his weight down a bit so that the trick would have a better line of access, then buried his fingers in the tight black curls of the man's head, and applied enough steady pressure to guide the trick's mouth down to where he wanted it.

The flashing bright smile proved the trick's enthusiasm as he opened wide and sucked in all of Brian's fully engorged length. The plump, soft red lips encircling his pale stiffness was truly erotic. The sight elicited more than one sympathetic groan from the ring of spectators who had gathered around to watch this episode of the Kinney Show. As the trick's head started bobbing happily up and down, copious trails of saliva dripping wetly down Brian's cock, more and more of the spectators' hands disappeared under their own towels. The trick's pace was the perfect speed - not too fast but not slow either - and all the stroking hands of the voyeurs seemed to instinctively match the rhythm.

In no time at all, Brian could feel the tingle of pleasure focusing in his balls and he politely tapped the trick's shoulder to let the man know what was coming. The man pulled back, again with the lovely big grin, but continued stroking Brian's length with his hand. Brian gave a tiny grunt and then streams of milk-white cum shot out, painting the dark skin of the trick with sprawling fantasies of dripping ecstasy. There was a general echoing grunting among the onlookers, a brief communal writhing and then multiple cries of release as all around, every watching man shot his own load.

The unfortunate cleaning staff would have their work cut out for them in the steam room this day.

The only observer who didn't seem to be caught up in the fun of the moment was the small attractive blond man sitting on the far bench. His open and easily read face clearly displayed his hurt and unutterable jealousy. But no one was looking at him. Except for Brian Kinney, whose attention had been captured as soon as the blond had entered the small steamy room. And, if everyone else had been fantasizing about the hot black man worshipping Kinney's dick, who was to know that the central attraction, himself, was instead fantasizing about the pretty little blond.

Chapter 14 - The Wages of Stalking.

For more than a week, Brian had been unable to escape Justin's almost constant presence. The boy was everywhere. Really. Absolutely everywhere Brian had gone all week, Justin would inevitably pop up at some point, surreptitiously handing his man packages of saltine crackers whenever it was needed.

Every morning when he got up, Brian would note that someone had just recently been in his loft. Most mornings there would be something fresh and tempting ready for his breakfast. There was always freshly made, hot coffee, no matter when he got up. After a few days, he noticed that someone had substituted his regular brand of dark French Roast coffee with something else, but the new blend was, if anything, even tastier than what he normally drank, so Brian didn't protest. He soon discovered the stash of new beans and laughed at the noticeably highlighted claims of 'Organic' prominently displayed on the package labeling. He never even thought to read the fine print on the nutrition label where it clearly stated the coffee was 'decaf'.

If Brian, instead of taking advantage of his ready to eat breakfast, decided to go to the Diner instead, Justin was always working that shift. He also seemed to work every dinner shift when Brian showed up. And one time, when Brian changed his lunch plans on the spur of the moment, Justin was there at the Diner even though it was the middle of the afternoon on a school day. Brian didn't know how the unshakable boy was managing it or how he was keeping up in school when he never seemed to attend.

Brian had glimpsed the blond head sitting in a little cafe in the lobby of the building where he worked. He showed up ensconced in the next barber chair over when Brian went to his stylist's on Thursday. He was always hanging around the gym. Justin had also appeared at the Baths - twice - Woody's several nights in a row, Babylon and even at The Meat Hook once, when Brian went there as a lark just to see if the boy would dare to follow him. Brian just couldn't escape his unwanted bodyguard no matter where he went.

The first time he'd visited Woody's, Brian had thought he'd be good and had accordingly ordered only a light beer. Before he could take even one sip, though, Justin had appeared, as if out of nowhere, wrested the beer out of Brian's unprepared hand and replaced it immediately with a non-alcoholic beer. Brian set that aside, untouched, and signaled to the bartender, ordering a shot of JB this time. The bartender came back a minute later and handed Brian another non-alcoholic beer. Brian set that bottle aside, too, and moved down the bar to where a different bartender was stationed. Unfortunately, that guy also disregarded his order of JB and handed him a third bottle of non-alcoholic beer.

"It won't work," Justin whispered quietly into the frustrated man's ear. "I've got a deal with every single bartender in every bar on Liberty Avenue and a couple of other bars around the city, as well. Your only other option is a soft drink. I'd stick with the non-alcoholic beer if I were you. At least if you cover up the label with your hand while you drink it, nobody will know it isn't real." Then Justin snuck a quick kiss onto Brian's cheek and once more disappeared.

"Fucker!" Brian mumbled and then, with a sigh, took a sip of his non-alcoholic beer.

That was also the night that all the liquor in his loft was replaced with vitamin-water beverages, sodas and fruit juice. He was angry at first. Then he decided to bow to the inevitable and admit to himself how much he respected the tenacious youth who insisted on looking out for him and his baby. He'd even been kind of expecting this. His entire stash of cigarettes had mysterious disappeared the very first night - even the ones he'd kept in non-obvious places like his bedside table, the back of the desk drawer and the little box of knick-knacks he kept in his dresser drawer. It was inevitable that the alcohol would go too, eventually.

The next morning, the first of the books had shown up. Next to his waiting coffee mug, he found a copy of 'What To Expect When You're Expecting'. It was a thick tome-like reference book that detailed, month-by-month, everything that happened during a typical pregnancy. It wasn't geared towards men, but Brian had to admit it was still pretty informative. He spent the next hour munching on a bagel that had been left ready to toast in his toaster, drinking his new, tasty blend of coffee and reading all about the first trimester of pregnancy. When he left for work, he placed the book in his briefcase and, from then on, he carried it around almost everywhere.

The next day, in his mail, he received a copy of 'Male Pregnancy: The Primary Care Provider's Manual'. This one was much drier and far less of an enjoyable read, but it was very detailed and specific to his own case. It scared the shit out of him. Brian took and hid that book in the drawer of his nightstand, underneath his supply of porn magazines, where he wouldn't have to be reminded of it.

A couple of days later, as if to lighten the mood, he found a copy of 'My Boys Can Swim! The Official Guy's Guide To Pregnancy', propped up on the back of his toilet. Thankfully, this book was much less scary. He got a couple of good laughs out of this one and found that it dealt realistically, but still humorously, with some of the same fears he was experiencing. This one was funny enough to leave out on the coffee table.

Sometime well into the second week of the super-stalker, Brian was standing at the large window of his loft, enjoying a rare night in, when he noticed a familiar looking car parked on the street below. He dug around in a drawer of his desk for a minute and eventually found the pair of binoculars he knew he'd stashed there. Back at the window, he scrutinized the small subcompact using the binoculars and easily confirmed his suspicions.

Justin's phone rang. He saw from the caller ID that it was Brian. He was slightly worried by the call since Brian had been noticeably cool towards him ever since he started Operation Watch Brian. Actually, even before that Brian Kinney had never called him. He didn't dare NOT answer, though - what if there was a problem?

"Hey, Brian!" Justin finally answered on the fifth ring.

"Are you and Daphne going to sit out there all night?" Brian drawled with evident humor.

"Maybe?" Justin admitted.

"You stupid little twat," Brian chuckled. "Send Daphne home and get your ass up here." Brian hung up.

"We've been found out," Justin informed his stalking buddy. "He told me to send you home and come upstairs.

"Maybe I should stay in case you need backup?"

"Nah. I can handle Brian Kinney. I think I'm wearing him down already. You go on Daph. Hopefully I'll be busy all night." Justin said, jumping out of the car with a manic grin on his radiant face.

At the door, Justin debated for a moment and then opted for pressing the door buzzer. A few seconds later, Brian's voice sounded through the intercom. "You might as well just use your key, Justin."

Brian was waiting for him on the couch when Justin let himself in. The blond walked in timorously, not one hundred percent sure of his reception. Justin cautiously rounded the couch and then stood about five feet away from the subject of his late surveillance, waiting, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet with his face all screwed up in uncertainty.

'Fuck! He's adorable', the thought percolated up through Brian's subconscious without warning. He felt that sweet-sour drawing sensation in his gut that hit him every time he saw the precocious youth. Brian wanted to be angry at the boy for his incessant interference in his life, his present 'situation' included. But he also wanted to envelope him in his arms and smother him with kisses. The latter urge seemed to be winning out the longer Justin stood there bouncing.

"Where'd you get the key?" Brian demanded, trying to sound stern.

"I stole Michael's keys and made copies," Justin admitted truthfully.

"Have you been skipping school?"

"No . . . Well, except for sometimes, gym and art - my last two classes of the day. But I've always been hopeless in gym, so that's no big loss, and I'm pretty much guaranteed an A in art already, so . . ."

Now for the really big question. "Did you tell Daphne?"

"No. I never said a word to her . . . She just . . . She figured it out on her own," Justin affirmed confidently.

"Un huh? But I bet you didn't try too hard to stop her from figuring it out, did you?"

Justin shrugged and again screwed up his adorable little blond face. Brian scrubbed at his own face with his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose in typical Kinney fashion. Then, taking a deep breath, his eyes still closed, he just patted the couch cushion next to him, inviting the boy to sit.

Justin giggled and then bounced down next to Brian, his body just naturally curling into the warmth of the larger man's side. Brian's arm assumed its natural place draped over Justin's shoulders. He let his head tilt to the side, touching against Justin's forehead, and they sat still like that for a long while.

"This doesn't mean anything. I'm still pissed at you," Brian finally added in a hushed voice, but still not moving way from the comforting warm body next to him. "And you're NOT moving in."

"As long as you admit you can't keep me out . . ." Justin maintained stubbornly.

"I could always change the locks, you know," Brian offered.

"I had a plan for that, too," Justin stated quietly. "It wouldn't have kept me out for long."

"Probably not. You've always been a persistent little fucker," Brian conceded affectionately.

Justin inhaled the Brian-ness of the man next to him. He knew it was probably just his imagination, but he thought that, maybe, Brian actually smelled even better to him than before. The scents of tobacco and whiskey were gone, and Brian had changed his aftershave, but the essence of Brian was still there and it was incredibly potent. By the second breath, Justin was as hard as a steel spike. Somehow he was drawn even more irresistibly to this desirable, delicious man, now that he knew what the sexy exterior was hiding.

"Oh, Brian," Justin panted, the longing in his voice unmistakable.

Before he consciously knew he was doing it, Justin felt his hand creeping under the hem of Brian shirt, caressing the still flat belly. That was HIS. He thought he could even sense a spark of some part of him still there. He wanted back in that place desperately.

"There's nothing to feel, Justin," Brian whispered. "If all those books of yours are correct, I shouldn't 'show' before the fourth or fifth month."

Brian didn't remove Justin's hand though. The warm touch felt good. The sensation of the lightly stroking fingers seemed to penetrate deep into his core. Brian wanted Justin to be touching him. Justin's simple presence, his nearness, made Brian feel a sense of elation he'd rarely experienced outside of sex. He knew it was probably just the weird hormones coursing through his fucked up body, but Justin being there made him feel incredibly happy. He wasn't sure he really liked it. Brian wasn't used to feeling like this . . . Feeling purely happy.

"Brian." Justin's hand was already moving lower. He slid his fingers inside the waistband of Brian's loose-fitting jeans. He was drawing little erotic shapes with his fingertips against Brian's skin. The need kept pulling his hand lower and lower, past the warm, stiff treasure that he usually aimed for. Past the comforting, solid weight of Brian's balls. All the way down to that tight knot of muscles that was the entrance to all of Brian's secret places.

Brian whimpered slightly when the first finger penetrated. But instead of fighting the sensation, he quickly shifted and unzipped himself so that Justin's hand had freer access. He could feel his muscles relaxing, more quickly than ever before, to let his lover inside where he belonged. This was right. It was so right. He needed Justin. He needed this man inside him right away.

Justin gently eased Brian's upper body sideways, lying him along the length of the couch. Brian complied without more than a whimper at the movement. With his free hand, Justin peeled off Brian's pants and then lowered his own. Somehow he managed it all without ever relinquishing his connection to Brian's inner spaces. Justin's hand, his fingers, moved of their own accord, prodding, massaging, teasing the muscles till they relaxed, all focused on getting inside, back to that place he knew he belonged.

Before either man knew it, Justin was poised with his raw dick dripping at Brian's open entrance. He only just barely remembered to fish between the couch cushions for the condom he knew was waiting there. He hated that it was needed. But that was a discussion for another time. He made quick work of situating the thin latex covering and then . . . Justin slid home into Brian's welcoming depths where he'd always belonged.

Was there really a spark of fire that touched them both when Justin's dick ended its initial thrust and they both lay momentarily still, reveling in the completeness? Both men, if asked, might have sworn to it later. This wasn't anything they could ever control or even imagine. They were so connected. They felt each other's hearts beating - through their skin, through their deep connection, through their very beings.

Their climaxes hit almost instantaneously. There was no build up. No time for long languorous stroking. It was electric. It was lightning. It was fire. Justin exploded deep in Brian's core at the same time that Brian erupted, spilling white hot cum between their sweat-plastered bodies. Wave after wave. Spurting, draining, exhausting their pent-up passions until they collapsed together in ecstasy.

It seemed to take forever before either man could breathe right or form a coherent thought. It was even longer before either managed a thought about moving or speaking. If it hadn't been for the crick in Brian's neck from where his head was mashed at an uncomfortable angle against the arm rest, they might never have moved from that spot. But when Brian started to squirm, trying to straighten his spine, Justin finally remembered he had to move.

Later, when they were all rearranged, comfortably entwined together, Brian started to chuckle silently.

"You're fucking addictive, Justin," Brian teased. "Your dick should come with a warning label on it that says, 'May Be Habit Forming!'"

They both broke out into riotous peals of laughter that fed right into their next round of lovemaking.

Chapter 15 - The Funny Bunny Chapter.

Once he'd succumbed, Brian didn't consciously try to keep Justin out of his life. He didn't actually welcome him in with open arms either, though. Brian seemed sort of stuck on the fence about his feelings for Justin. In other words, it was back to Brian Kinney's usual behavior.

Brian was still hell bent on keeping his secret a secret. He also seemed to feel that part of keeping his situation quiet necessitated him maintaining his studly reputation. Which meant that Brian Kinney had to keep being seen out and about, acting like the irrepressible lothario he'd always been, without a noticeable let up in his clubbing or tricking. It was like a point of honor for him to make sure that, at least once a night, he was SEEN dragging a trick somewhere private.

Justin wasn't really happy with that part of Brian's little act. He'd never really enjoyed sharing Brian, but he'd accepted early on that Brian was who he was and Justin wasn't going to change him. At least not overnight. Only now, he felt he DID have a particular claim to the man and it became much harder to fight off his feelings of jealousy when he'd watch Brian disappearing into the backroom with another man.

Of course, Brian hadn't really kept to his 'One Fuck Only' policy, at least where Justin was concerned, in a very long time. More often than not, it was Justin that the Stud of All Studs would drag off to the bathroom or backroom or fuck in the middle of the Baths' Orgy Room. And it was pretty much exclusively Justin who would accompany Brian back to the loft at the end of the night.

Justin still had to keep up his super stalker routine during those times when Brian felt he needed some distance. Brian made a point of kicking Justin out most nights, even after he'd brought the blond youth home for some riotous sex-capades. He only let Justin stay the night - itself a major concession for the old Brian Kinney - one or two nights a week, usually on weekends.

The rest of the time, Justin resumed his careful covert surveillance. He still made a point of having breakfast ready for Brian every morning. Brian made a point of ignoring the fact that Justin was still sneaking into his apartment on a nightly basis. Brian also ignored the way Justin was always showing up with his packets of saltines, supervising his meals out, spouting helpful factoids about nutrition and healthcare and generally making a pest of himself. Justin also made a point of keeping an eye on Brian whenever he'd go out clubbing - just to ensure he was a good little boy around the drinks, the drugs and all other unhealthy substances. Brian knew Justin was watching and he always toed the line.

Secretly, Brian got a tiny thrill every time Justin would do something overtly caring for him, especially when it happened in public. Nobody had ever put that much effort into taking care of him - not his parents, not his teachers or childhood caregivers, not even Debbie or Michael. Brian had always had only himself to rely on. Knowing Justin was looking out for him felt pretty amazing, actually. So Brian rarely said anything about Justin's antics:

More often, it was Michael who would complain about Justin's interfering behavior. The Best Friend had finally caught on to Justin's stepped-up stalking and reproached the youth for it incessantly. Justin never argued with Michael. Even when Michael would bait the teen, trying relentlessly to get some reaction or response, Justin never fought back, never retaliated, never even complained. Brian saw it all, but didn't think it was up to him to interfere. Justin could stand up for himself. Or not. Brian Fucking Kinney couldn't be seen to care too much about such matters, even if it was his favorite twink that was being hassled. Maybe especially because it WAS his favorite twink.

So life went on, with no big changes in Brian's routine, at least none that were visible from the perspective of a random bystander. Until, that is, the night that Brian decided to take Scott, the new personal trainer at Ript Gym, up on his offer to visit the backroom of Babylon together. Scott WAS a gorgeous man, there was no getting around that. He was only of average height but very buff, blond and he had the perfect golden tan skin. Justin had watched him making time with Brian at the gym a lot over the past few weeks and had decided he really disliked the man. When Justin saw the sun-tanned surfer boy heading to the backroom with his Baby-Daddy, the irate blond didn't even try to control his urge to follow.

Brian was leaning against his usual spot on the far wall - Justin briefly wondered if there was some tacit agreement among the backroom boys that THAT spot was reserved for Brian Kinney or if maybe he'd marked the spot so many times that his scent just repelled other men, because hardly anyone ever took 'Brian's' piece of wall. Scott, aka Sufer-Dude in Justin's thoughts, had Brian's shirt unbuttoned and pushed halfway off his shoulders. He was currently letting his ugly fat, meaty-looking tongue surf around all over Brian's chest. Justin watched, somewhere between grossed-out and enraged, while Surfer-Dude licked at and suckled Brian's nipples for an inordinately long period of time.

"Mmmmm, you taste good, Kinney," Surfer-Dude moaned loudly. "You must really be concentrating your workout on your upper body. God, your pecs are amazing. They're so full and pumped." Justin watched in disgust as the Surfer Trick went back to sucking on Brian's nipples. "God, your nips are so beautiful and so dark . . . taste so good . . ."

Justin watched for a few more seconds and then quietly blew a gasket. He couldn't take it anymore. The sight of this buffoon slobbering all over HIS man, sucking Brian's tits, it made Justin sick to his stomach.

"Fuck off!" Justin ordered, grabbing Surfer-Trick's shoulder and forcibly pulling the man away from his Brian.

"What the fuck?" Surfer-Trick started to complain.

"I said: Fuck. Off!" Justin shouted at the incredulous trick. "Take your wierd breast fettish thing back home and go suck your mommy's tits with that ugly fat tongue. Nobody here wants to see that shit. So just FUCK OFF!"

The entire backroom stood staring in awe at this unprecedented spectacle. Taylor, who was about fifty pounds and several inches smaller than the burly Surfer-Trick, wasn't backing down. He insinuated his small, slight frame between Kinney and the beefy trick and was staring daggers at the confused man. It was like watching a pretty, cuddly, baby bunny taking on a bulldog. Only the pretty baby bunny was snarling and snapping with razor sharp teeth and mad red eyes and the bulldog was NOT, in any way, prepared to take on the killer bunny.

Surfer-Trick glanced one time over Killer-Bunny's head at Brian. Brian, who'd been standing there in slack-jawed amazement with the rest of the spectators, snapped his jaw closed and simply shrugged at poor Scott. He thought he heard the baby bunny growling deep in his little furry throat, and didn't dare say anything. The big Surfer-Bulldog, realized he didn't stand a chance and, raising his hands in surrender, he carefully backed away from the gaping, razor-sharp killer-bunny teeth which were now grinning at him feraly with victory.

The next moment, the Killer-Bunny was gone. Justin turned around with an apologetic look on his baby bunny face and immediately started fussing with Brian's shirt. The sweet little baby bunny quickly re-buttoned the shirt and then looked up contritely into The Big Bad Stud's eyes, waiting to see what his punishment would be for acting so proprietorial.

The Big Bad Stud wasn't angry though. He was incredibly turned on by the whole episode. He was a tiny bit hesitant as well, because he didn't want to tangle with the Killer-Bunny either. But his lust happily over-ruled his hesitance in the end.

Brian crooked his finger at Justin indicating the boy should approach. The scared baby bunny took two mincing hops forward. Brian leaned down and whispered in the bunny's cute little bunny ear, "Turn around. Pants off."

Justin's face exploded with delight and the happy little bunny hopped right out of his pants and over to the wall where the Big Bad Stud proceeded to fuck him well and good for the next half hour.

Back at the loft, there was a lot more fucking like bunnies all night long. The Killer-Bunny never reappeared, little Justin-Bunny was all fucked out and happily sated and the Big Bad Stud reigned supreme forever after - or at least until the next day. It was a happy ending for everyone except the evil Surfer who had to take his big meaty tongue and go home alone - probably to lick his wounds with said icky tongue.

Chapter 16 - The Media Circus Begins.

The next morning, while eating the big breakfast Justin had assembled of scrambled eggs and bacon with Dave's Killer Bread toasted on the side, Brian casually asked if Justin could get out of school at 1:30 that afternoon.

"Sure," Justin shrugged. "Why?"

"I've got my first doctor's appointment at 2:00. I'll pick you up at 1:30. If you want to go, that is," Brian said, trying not to let any of his anxiety about the upcoming appointment show.

"Of course I'll go with you to the doctor," Justin averred and it was settled. He was thrilled that Brian had finally asked for his help.

Justin was antsy all day. He and Daphne had their heads together whispering and giggling in almost every class and only just escaped getting detention for a rather loud peal of laughter that disrupted their history class. So, by 1:30 he was more than ready to go. He expertly faked a twisted ankle in gym class, quickly changed into street clothes while the rest of the class was still playing dodge ball, and then snuck out the back door. Brian was already waiting for Justin in his usual spot.

The Big Stud was even quieter than usual on the way to Allegheny General. Brian had told him earlier that he'd done some research and found out that the annoying OB Chief who'd seen him before really was one of the best doctors in her field. She was supposedly very knowledgeable and good with particularly difficult pregnancies, which this one might end up being, so Brian had decided to keep her as his primary doctor. That didn't mean that she didn't bug the crap out of him. But Brian Kinney wanted the best and, unfortunately, Chiefy was it.

When they arrived at the hospital it was far more crowded than they had expected. It seemed like there was a big crowd of people swarming around the main hospital doors. The main parking lot was full so they had to park at a satellite lot and take a shuttle bus to the main hospital. The shuttle bus actually stopped at a little side entrance, so the guys never did get to find out what was going on at the front with all the people milling around and blocking foot traffic. Brian and Justin made their way directly to the wing where all the doctor’s offices were located and found Chiefy’s office without any trouble. Brian checked in with the receptionist and then they waited.

Chiefy blew in about fifteen minutes late, looking a bit flustered, with her hair mussed and her face bright red as if she’d been running. She saw Brian and Justin sitting there and right away she fluffed herself up and patted at her hair, greeting the men brightly. Without any further delay, Chiefy herself showed them back to the exam rooms and directed Brian to get into the skimpy, backless patient gown. Brian’s only comment was that he would probably be more comfortable just sitting there naked rather than wearing the stupid gown. Which is why he was lying there in all his buff glory when Chiefy knocked quietly and let herself back into the tiny room. If she’d seemed flustered before, the sight of a gloriously naked Brian Kinney lounging on the exam table had her speechless and blushing and knocked for a complete loop. Justin felt a bit sorry for the poor doctor, because he was familiar with what the first sight of a naked Brian could do to a person.

Chiefy managed with a bit of effort to compose herself and she continued with the exam. This time, since they'd both already acclimated themselves to the big news and were no longer reeling from shock, Brian and Justin were able to concentrate more and even ask some pertinent questions. Chiefy had been studying up on Male Pregnancies and was ready with all the answers. In fact, there was far more information than Brian was ready for and by the end he was starting to look panicky again. Justin cut in and distracted Chiefy until Brian was back in control.

At the completion of the exam, Chiefy directed Brian to get dressed and then to join her in her office to go over one final thing. She looked a little worried as she left. Brian opined that it was probably some shit about how his insurance didn't cover male pregnancy or something similar. Justin hoped that was all it was.

Chiefy's office door was open when they got there. She offered them seats. She asked if they wanted something to drink - both men said 'no'. She shuffled around some papers on her desk nervously.  Then, Chiefy finally seemed resigned that she was gonna have to talk.

"Firstly, I'd like to offer you both, but especially you Mr. Kinney, an apology on my own behalf as well as from the whole hospital."

Brian and Justin looked at each other in confusion. "Before I accept any apology, Chiefy, I'd like to know what it is that I'm forgiving you for," Brian replied cautiously.

"I'm afraid there has been an internal security breach. The administration is already investigating but hasn't yet managed to pinpoint who it was that released the confidential information," Chiefy continued, while the boys just sat there unsure of what it all meant. "I'm afraid that word about the *ahem* nature of your condition has been leaked, Mr. Kinney."

"Fucking A!" Brian shouted, jumping to his feet in alarm.

"Please, Mr. Kinney. You shouldn't let yourself get so upset. It's not good for your blood pressure. Now, please," Chiefy said in a placating tone, "it's not quite that bad. If you'd please sit back down, we can discuss what needs to be done."

"'It's not quite that bad'," Brian said, imitating Chiefy's condescending tone. "How the fuck would you know? It's not your life. It's not your personal medical info that's . . ."

"Mr. Kinney, please let me continue," Chiefy raised her voice with authority and Brian reluctantly nodded then sat back down, still fuming though. "As I was about to say, none of your personal information has been leaked. So far as we know, the only information that is currently circulating is that a rare Male Pregnancy case has arisen here in Pittsburgh, that the patient is receiving care here at Allegheny General and that the patient in question was expected for a check up today. You probably noticed all the craziness going on downstairs in the lobby. That was where I was before I came back here for your appointment. I had security come and escort everyone out of the building and we think they've pretty much all dispersed now."

"So they don't know Brian's name or anything? Just that there's a male pregnancy?" Justin clarified.

"That's correct. And we are going to be cracking down on everyone involved with this case so that no further information is released without your direct consent," Chiefy tried to reassure the irate patient. "However, I'm afraid that, well . . . now that the cat's out of the bag, so to speak, it might prove much harder to keep information about you completely confidential. The Hospital Administration will do everything in our power to maintain your privacy, but now that the news media . . ."

"News media? Shit," Brian injected.

"Yes, I'm afraid so . . . Several reporters have already contacted my office seeking information. We, of course, haven't said anything. But, as I was saying, now that they know there's a local case, I can't see them just dropping the matter. The tabloids, especially, are ridiculously tenacious and will stoop to anything to get a story like this. My staff has always been scrupulously discreet, but then again, I don't know if they've ever been offered actual bribes before . . ."

"What can we do, Doctor," the ever-practical Justin asked. "I'm sure that Brian does NOT want any disclosure of his private life, either now or in the future. There has to be some way to control the situation."

"Well, as I said, for now I've taken care of matters. We have security in place to keep the media out of the facility and to get you out of the building today," Chiefy assured them. "However, due to the nature of your condition, it won't be possible to keep this under wraps indefinitely. Once you start to actually look pregnant, Mr. Kinney, what with modern equipment and telephoto lenses and such . . . Well, let's just say that I strongly doubt you'll be able to remain incognito forever."

"I fucking know that," Brian insisted, looking scared and hunted. "I'm just not ready to deal with this shit yet."

"I completely understand. And we WILL do our best for you. I do have perhaps one small suggestion, though," Chiefy nervously advanced her secret agenda. "When you are ready to come out, as it were, the Hospital would be happy to coordinate some type of press conference for you, and I could help take some of the pressure off you by answering any medical questions. That would also keep you in control of what information was given out and what wasn't. It's definitely preferable to waiting until everything leaks out without you having any say. Of course, it's completely up to you. It's just a suggestion." The woman looked hungry for the possibility, obviously eager for the publicity the hospital and her own career would get out of that kind of deal.

Justin took charge at this point, standing up to signal that the conversation needed to end. "Thank you, doctor. We'll consider that option." Chiefy looked pleased. "Of course, Brian will want to consult with his attorney first, both about what to do in the future as well as what recourse he might have regarding the current information leak." Chiefy looked considerably less pleased at the mention of lawyers. "Now, if you can please direct us to wherever the security is set up so we can get out of here? I think Brian's had enough for one afternoon."

The two men were immediately led out to a back service elevator, accompanied by two burly security guards and met at the back entrance by a discreet silver Lexus sedan - Chiefy's personal vehicle, it turned out. They opted to have one of the security guys drive them straight home rather than attempt to get the Jeep. Justin said he'd come back for it the next day. All either man wanted was to get away from the hospital as quickly and quietly as possible.

Just as the car was driving off, Justin glimpsed a rumpled looking, overweight man holding a large camera, trotting around the corner of the building headed for the door they'd recently come through.

'Things were going to get very messy', Justin thought.

At the loft, Justin started wandering around, quietly tidying things up, picking up clothing from the floor and various chairs, clearing away trash and putting random items in their places - Prego Brian was far less obsessive about tidiness that his former self - while the knocked up Stud paced and ranted.

"The tabloids, Justin? The fucking tabloids! I'm going to be on the front of a fucking tabloid paper, next to the goddamned Siamese twins, the overweight starlet caught in an ugly bikini and the latest diet tips! Every fucking breeder housewife in the country will be standing in line at the supermarket looking at my fat pregnant ass! What the fuck am I going to do? I can't do this, Justin. I fucking can't DO this . . ." Brian's ranting went on and on.

Justin let the man continue to blow off steam, raging away, without comment. He knew that Brian would eventually calm himself and handle everything with his usual aplomb - after he’d had a chance to vent. Justin’s only concern was that Brian didn’t do anything crazy in the meantime.

“. . . The God Damned, Fucking Tabloids!” Brian released a final disgusted shout and then collapsed into a hopeless lump on the couch.

Justin sighed with relief that the ranting was now over. He went and joined Brian on the couch, patting his thigh in silent commiseration. After another twenty minutes, when Justin determined that the silent scowling phase of Brian’s conniption fit was drawing to a close, he got up and offered his hand to help Brian stand.

“You know what? Fuck ‘em all!” Justin declared, knowing he was stealing Brian’s tagline. “We’ll worry about all this tomorrow, Brian. Tonight, let’s go to Woody’s, hang out with the guys and NOT worry about it at all. I’ll even let you buy me a soda if you’re good.”

Brian shook his head, not ready to be quite so easily appeased, but without the remaining energy to put up a fight. He let Justin pull him to his feet and lead him away to the closet. He let himself be dressed in his best ‘Reigning Stud’ black shirt and tight jeans. Then he let Justin lead him out the door and down the block to their favorite watering hole.

They walked into the bar to a warm greeting from several directions and it went a long way towards mollifying an irate Brian. Emmett and Ted were already there, of course, and the two newcomers joined their buddies in a booth. Justin waived at the closest waiter, signalled for ‘two’ without specifying the order and then winked at the man to make sure he’d gotten the message. A minute later, two non-alcoholic beers were placed on the table and Justin handed the man a twenty with another wink. Brian was amused instead of angry and just shook his head as he adroitly hid the label on his bottle with the palm of his hand.

The men chatted and joked just like usual and slowly Brian relaxed. Justin took a deep breath and started to relax himself. A few minutes later, Michael and Dr. Dave walked in and joined the group in the booth, ordering beers of their own and adding to the light, amusing banter. Everything was going so well. It was exactly what Justin was hoping for.

Until David noticed the news program showing on the television screen over the back of the bar and shouted to the bartender to turn up the volume.

“Allegheny General Hospital officials have refused to confirm the existence of the rare case of Male Pregnancy, but reliable inside sources have indicated that the man was at the hospital today and met with the Chief of Obstetrics . . ."

Dr. Dave immediately launched into conspirator mode. “My friend who works in the hospital records department told me the same thing. He said that the hospital administration has been coming down on everybody hard about leaking the news but he said he had personal knowledge that there was really a Male Pregnancy case being treated by the Chief OBGYN. He can’t tell me any more, of course, without violating about a hundred laws and internal regulations. But he did say that the guy was a local and that he’d get me more info if he could.”

The news commentator on the television had moved on to reviewing other notable cases of Male Pregnancy, complete with graphic pictures of the other poor saps who’d already gone through the mess and been made a mockery of by the news media of other countries. Justin could feel Brian vibrating with anger beside him. The Brian Volcano was set to blow, big time, and Justin only had a few seconds to calm the techtonic forces.

Unfortunately, that’s when Michael piped up. “I can’t believe any guy, in this day and age, would subject himself to that crap,” Michael inserted his uninformed opinion. “He should just get rid of the thing and move on. I can’t imagine why he’s such a glutton for punishment. What a fucking pathetic sap!”

Justin sighed and shook his head in defeat. Fucking Michael! Brian was now going to officially go completely apeshit.

“Hey! You,” Brian stood up and hollered across the length of the bar, pointing at a big beefy leather stud standing at the far end of the bar, his voice easily loud enough to be heard over the television and all the noise of the bar. “Baldy - The one with the studded leather jacket. Get your ass into the bathroom, sweet cheeks! I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re still seeing stars next week!”

The entire bar went immediately silent and the bartender even muted the television so he could hear the leather guy’s response. Michael shut up immediately, a look of adoration anointing his countenance as he looked up at his idol. The rest of the table simply sat there stunned.

“Whatever you say, Kinney,” leather guy crooned, in an unexpectedly high voice considering the man’s size.

The large, bald, leather-clad guy strutted ostentatiously towards the bathrooms and Brian shoved Justin out of the booth so he could follow.

‘Overcompensating,’ was all that came to Justin’s mind as he sat himself back down, resigned to a long, long, lonely night of Brian monitoring.

#######BBBBBB#########

Chapter 17 - The Top of the Tops.

It took several days before Brian's campaign to top all the tops in town died down. He was absolutely shameless about it all. Just like that first night at Woody's, Brian would walk into whatever bar or club he planned to conquer, pick out the biggest top he could find, then announce his selection to the entire place at full volume. Almost always, the chosen victim acquiesced with enthusiasm.

Only twice did the intended prey put up any kind of struggle. The first time, Brian had, perhaps unwisely, chosen a big brutish leather daddy who was well known as a Dom in BDSM circles. When summoned, he simply yelled back, telling Kinney to 'Fuck Off'. The assembled crowd in the bar that night boo'ed and hissed at the man in disappointment. Eventually the Dom was chased out of the bar by the nagging ridicule of the bar patrons who had apparently grown to like this new game.

The second time, Brian had called out a tall, beautiful, all manly-man stud type whose aura screamed out that he was an exclusive top. He was new in town, too, and didn't know much at all about Brian Kinney or The Stud's latest antics. The Newbie Stud's response to being ordered to the back and told to have his pants around his ankles by the time Brian arrived, was a look of complete confusion and a loud 'What?'. The crowd that night was restless; they weren't about to let their nightly entertainment escape that easily. Several of the spectators immediately surrounded Newbie and started whispering to him. The rest of the room sat in quiet expectation, their eyes drifting from a still standing Brian Kinney to the Newbie and back.

After a couple of minutes, Newbie pushed through the crowd of whisperers and strode boldly up to Kinney. The two tall gorgeous men stood there, scrutinizing each other for a moment. The entire bar had gone completely silent waiting to see what would happen. Finally, Newbie leaned over and whispered something in Kinney's ear. Brian broke out laughing. "Maybe later," Kinney responded to the secret request. Then the pair turned together towards the back and the room erupted with wild cheering and catcalls. The crowd would be getting their show and they were more than happy about it.

The family's reaction to Brian's new antics was, as expected, mixed. Brian's usual detractors, namely Mel with Ted occasionally adding a barb or two, complained about the outrageous displays and how degrading the whole thing was. Michael was even more impressed with his idol's virility than usual and made sure he told Brian even more regularly, how cool it was when The Stud would call someone out like that. Everybody else wavered between grudging admiration and confused disdain. Nobody was sure why Brian had suddenly felt the need to ramp up his exhibitionism to such over-the-top proportions.

Justin, the only one who knew precisely why Brian was doing what he was doing, wouldn't comment. The boy followed Brian around, annoyed with the antics but understanding what had triggered them, and determined to look out for Brian regardless of how reckless and wanton he was being. Justin did worry that eventually one of the tops Brian called out would object more forcefully and Brian would end up getting punched in the face for the insult, but as time went by and that didn't happen, the youth relaxed on that front. Justin knew this couldn't go on indefinitely, so he just waited it out with his usual doggedly tenacious patience.

After a few days, the news reports on the mysterious Pittsburgh Male Pregnancy died down. The less Brian heard about it on the news, the better his moods became. Justin knew the crisis was past when, one night at Woody's, a semi-contrite Stud came up behind him and whispered in his ear.

"Taylor. Get YOUR ass to the back. I want your pants off and you bent over the sink on display by the time I get there!"

"Yes, sir! Whatever you say, Mr. Kinney, sir!" The grinning blond youth responded, happy to accept Brian's apology, no matter what odd form it came in.

Brian smiled a sweet, gentle little smile, reached out a hand to his special twink and the two walked together towards the bathrooms. After putting on a typical Kinney-Taylor display, to the vocal delight of the bystanders at Woody's, the pair seemed to tacitly agree it was high time to move this to a more private setting. The make up sex that night at the loft was enthusiastic, to say the least, and both men seemed to be moving around more carefully than usual the next day.

Of course, this was Brian Fucking Kinney, so things didn't change overnight. Two nights later, egged on by a certain Best Friend who liked to meddle, the 'Kinney Call Out', as the game had begun to be called by the denizens of Liberty Avenue, was back on. Justin wanted to strangle a giggling Michael who was squealing with glee, convinced this was the funnest game ever, as he and Brian picked out the biggest, beefiest top they could find in the bar that night.

When Michael and Brian finally agreed on someone, declaring that their pick was guaranteed to be a dedicated top, Michael started pushing and teasing, daring Brian to try his little game on the beefcake stud. Brian had never been one to turn down a challenge. So, while Justin groaned quietly in his corner, The Big Bad Stud, stood up and pointed his perfectly manicured hand at the buff beefcake. Beefcake looked over at Brian for a long minute, apparently contemplating his response with a grave look on his face, then looked down at his black cowboy boots, shrugged, and moved off in the direction Kinney had indicated without a word. The bar erupted with amused catcalls, loud clapping and a cheer or two. Michael was clapping and whistling louder than anyone.

When Brian came back to the table he was greeted like a conquering war hero. Michael seemed especially proud of his Best Friend's viril exploits - as if his own prowess was elevated merely by association with the Great Kinney. Brian accepted all the praise at first, but before long you could see he was getting annoyed that Michael wouldn't drop it. The adulation society only quieted in the end when Brian snapped, yelled at Mikey to 'shut the fuck up already' and told him to go get his own fuck instead of babbling on about Brian's.

It wasn't long before Brian sidled up to Justin, where the fuming young man had retreated to the far end of the bar. "You ready to get out of here?" Brian asked softly.

"How was he?" Justin asked before making any move to acquiesce to Brian's request.

"Terrible," Brian answered immediately. "He kept squirming and he was a moaner. Plus, he just smelled . . . bad."

"Smelled bad?" Justin questioned, never having known Brian to care that much about body odor in a casual trick that he was fucking in the less than fresh environs of the men's room after all.

Brian leaned in and inhaled a huge lungful of Justin's essence. "Yeah. He didn't smell like that. He was . . . He didn't smell right. . ." Brian struggled to explain.

"You know," Justin capitulated, "you're just lucky I like you so much. Otherwise I'd stay pissed at you a lot longer after this sort of shit."

"Actually," Brian said, draping his arm casually around the younger man's shoulders and leaning in to finish his admission in a hushed voice. "I DO know how lucky I am." Then the quirky brunet smirked sexily at his companion and started guiding them both towards the door.

Justin was stunned by this unprecedented confession and said nothing, letting himself be led wherever Brian Kinney wanted to take him.

The Kinney Call Out games tapered off pretty quickly after that. Brian claimed it wasn't any fun anymore since nobody had the balls to refuse. Justin thought it might be something deeper. He'd watched the last two rounds of the game and had seen Brian sniffing at his victims as he led them to the back. Both times, his face showed just the barest hint of dislike and Brian would look over his shoulder in Justin's direction with a wistful sigh.

'Saved by the pheromones', Justin laughed to himself.

Chapter 18 - A Rather Unhappy Birthday.

It had been more than three months since Justin's little birthday surprise. Brian was officially moving into his second trimester. And, as the days got longer heading into May, things started to get a bit chaotic.

Justin and Daphne had less than a month to go at the hated St. James Academy before graduation. And, while Justin really wasn't all that into the whole senior graduation hoopla, there was still a lot he had to do: forms to be completed, graduation supplies tried on and ordered, college plans to finalize and, of course, finals. Justin was grateful that Brian's extracurricular activities had died down a lot lately, since he still felt compelled to be there, just in case, every time Brian went out. It's not that he didn't trust Brian, he just didn't trust anyone else to take care of his guy. But with finals coming up and everything else he had to do, it was difficult to keep up with Brian, too. The tenacious boy somehow did it all, but he was definitely feeling stressed out and overly tired by the middle of May.

It didn't help matters much that Brian was still refusing to talk about, or even really think about, their future plans. Justin had been accepted at Dartmouth and a few other schools out of state as well as the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. He turned down all the out of state offers without any need to think about it - there was no way he was going to be away from Pittsburgh come fall, what with Brian's due date being sometime around the latter part of September.

However, he wasn't sure what to do about PIFA. It was a local school, so to that extent, it could work out. It was also his dream school. But, since Brian was still refusing to discuss anything about the baby, he felt unsure about committing to anything. He had no settled plans about where he'd be living, he had no idea how he'd pay for school, no plans for a job other than continuing on at the Diner and he didn't have a clue what Brian was planning for after the baby arrived. The longer they went without having a real discussion the more stressed out Justin was becoming. He wasn't the type to deal well with situations he couldn't plan for. But, he knew Brian wouldn't be forced into any decisions before he was ready either.

Finally, the night before the acceptance deadline, Justin decided to throw caution to the wind. He signed the acceptance letter and walked it straight to the local mailing center so he could get it faxed before he changed his mind again. Somehow, he'd figure out how to make it all work.

On top of everything else, Brian's next doctor's appointment with Chiefy at Allegheny General was scheduled the afternoon following Justin's last final. It was also, unfortunately, Brian's 30th birthday. It was bound to be an incredibly eventful and possibly traumatic day. Justin spent most of the two weeks immediately prior, when he wasn't studying, dogging Brian to various clubs and fretting about his nebulous future, worrying about how he was going to get Brian through a doctors appointment and a 30th birthday on the same day, all the while avoiding exposure of Brian's secret to any nosy media types.

First, he had to head off Michael and Lindsey and their horrifying plans to subject Brian to a surprise 'Death Day' celebration first thing on the morning of Brian's birthday. It took much begging and pleading, eventually even getting Debbie involved on his side, to get the gang to call off their plans. Justin knew that the mere hint of some over-the-top birthday farce would drive Brian over the edge. The blond did not have the time or energy to deal with all the fallout that would happen in that eventuality. In the end, it was only his insistence that he would tell Brian on them if they tried to plan ANY surprise, that forced them to back off. He relented only a little and agreed to let them plan a reserved family dinner at Debbie's for that evening, with the stipulation that Brian was told well in advance about all the plans.

Next, Justin went to work devising a plan for getting himself and Brian safely to and from the doctor's office. He arranged for a car service to pick them up at Brian's loft an hour before hand, giving him just barely enough time to finish his exam and get across town to Brian's. Then, he arranged with Chiefy to have a security escort waiting for them at the back service entrance that they'd used the last time. Finally, Justin convinced Brian to let Daphne accompany them as a decoy. He figured that two men going into an OBGYN office alone were just automatically suspicious. But, if it looked like they were both just there to support Daphne, they would be more likely to escape notice. He even went so far as to make the doctor put the appointment under Daphne's name, just in case. It was the best plan he could come up with - he just hoped it worked.

Time flew by with Justin so incredibly busy he was lucky to get four hours sleep a night. Even Brian noticed how worn out his blond was looking and promised the boy he would stay in for the next three nights if Justin would stay at Deb's and get some sleep. Justin agreed, but had Daphne check on Brian at random times just to make sure everything was okay while he was taking those nights off.  

Then, the day itself arrived. Justin had swiped Michael's keys and wallet while they were at Woody's the night before, just as an extra bit of insurance that the man couldn't be off bugging Brian while Justin was at school taking his final. He snuck into Michael's apartment late that night and hid the keys in the freezer where they would be found eventually but hopefully not early enough to give him time to harass Brian. Then, Justin slogged home through a pouring rainstorm in time to get a few more hours of studying in before morning.

On top of everything, this last exam was the hardest one he'd have for the term - AP Physics. It wasn't Justin's strongest subject, by any stretch of the imagination, and he was so stressed out about everything else he didn't know if he'd even remember who Isaac Newton was, let alone the man's three famous principles of motion. But, he decided to concentrate on the happy fact that after this it was all over except for the actual graduation. Somehow, he made it through the exam, and he'd only blanked out on the very last question, his over-exerted brain giving out ten minutes before the bell rang. He figured it was good enough and didn't waste any further energy worrying about the exam once it was over. His mind had already moved on to the next challenge of the day.

Justin and Daphne sped across town and arrived at the loft just as the car he'd ordered pulled to the curb. The excited youth bounded up the stairs to collect his man while Daph stayed below and chatted up the hunky driver. Brian was, as Justin had long expected him to be, pissy, sulking and thoroughly obstreperous. It took a lot of coaxing to get the brooding brunet to get up, finish dressing and finally move downstairs. The only saving grace was that Brian refused to be all emotional in front of Daphne, which meant her presence provided that additional bonus.

Somehow, in spite of all their precautions, the press had once again been tipped off about Brian's appointment. There were cars lined up all along the roadway leading to the front of the hospital. As their car drove past and then pulled around to the back entrance, the three conspirators could see the churning mass of reporters, camera jockeys and assorted busybodies milling around the front entrance. Luckily, their security escort was waiting at the back door and they made it upstairs via the service elevator without incident.

Once they arrived at Chiefy's office, Justin checked 'Daphne' in and they were almost instantly hustled all three together back to an exam room. Brian once again refused to wear the ridiculous little hospital gown and, much to Daphne's delight, he simply stripped down and plopped unceremoniously onto the exam table. It took a couple minutes before Daph noted the displeased looks her best friend was shooting at her, but she finally managed to tear her eyes away from the glorious sight of Brian in the buff. Luckily, Chiefy seemed prepared for the display this time so Justin didn't have to give her the stink eye too.

Most of this appointment was focused on the baby's growth and development, since Brian had now made it through the critical first trimester, when most of the worst possible complications could have arisen. The doctor's main concern this visit was that Brian seemed underweight for this stage of his pregnancy. Brian tried to argue that that was a good thing - his concern being trying to lose all the weight afterwards. It took a very stern and long winded lecture on the part of the doctor before Brian conceded that he didn't want to jeopardize the baby's development merely for the sake of keeping off a few extra pounds. He was given strict orders to have gained not less than four pounds before his next appointment - a number that seemed to stagger the svelt stud for several moments. Justin assured the doctor he would make sure Brian was eating even if he had to tie the man to the bed and force feed him. This statement unfortunately led to a long and completely irrelevant discussion between Brian and Daphne about how much Brian would likely enjoy that scenario. By the time the doctor managed to get everyone's attention back on topic, there wasn't much more to discuss.

The trio left Chiefy's office and made it back down to the rear entrance without incident. When Justin peeked outside and saw the car waiting as expected with nobody else in sight, he started to breathe a little easier. He herded his little group out the door and into the waiting car with alacrity. Hopefully his plan had worked this time.

None of the three even noticed that the same lard ass camera-toting reporter as the last time had trotted around the far corner of the building just as they approached the car. Lardy snapped a quick photo of the three unknown people. It was only from the back, unfortunately, but the wily reporter had a feeling about the three. He also had an inside source who had tipped him off, although belatedly, about the possibility that the mysterious male pregnancy might be using the back entrance. Lardy had a 'nose for news', he liked to say, and figured that, at the very least, these three merited a bit more investigation

In the car, Brian, Justin and Daphne felt light-hearted. Everything seemed to have gone well so far. They kidded each other and relaxed a bit. Daphne's sharp sense of humor alongside her irrepressible good nature were the perfect offset to Brian's usual tendency to brood. They got along swimmingly and Brian was even sufficiently distracted that he forgot to obsess over the pending birthday gathering at Debbie's. By the time they reached the loft it had been decided that Daph was coming along to Deb's and they all piled out of the car and right into the Jeep for the final phase of the long day.

After having negotiated the first two hurdles of the day with hardly a hiccough, it was inevitable that the final third of Justin's day would end up a disaster. When they arrived at Debbie's, the three friends were all happy, laughing, joking with each other, their arms all affectionately entwined as they walked up the front steps in tandem. Then, Michael threw open the front door, pelted them with a handful of black confetti and blew an annoyingly loud, black noise-maker in their direction. Mel followed close on Mikey's heels and proceeded to strap a black dunce-cap style party hat that read 'Over The Hill' onto Brian's head. The rest of the gang was right behind, breaking into an off-key rendition of 'Happy Birthday' before Brian had even cleared the last step up onto the porch.

So what if both Brian and Justin had expected that the party would be hard to bear and knew the teasing was inevitable? The actuality was almost worse than they could have imagined. Justin had to wonder if it would have killed them to just have a nice, reserved, pleasant family dinner together and then all sincerely offer up birthday wishes to one of the core members of their family? Why did these people who claimed to love Brian all delight so much in mercilously pushing all his buttons? Couldn't anyone see how uncomfortable and insecure their taunts made this inherently private man? Either they didn't understand how much they were hurting Brian or they didn't care - it was tough to figure out which.

For the hundredth time, Justin had to simply swallow all his annoyance. It would only embarrass Brian further if Justin started laying into everyone for their uncaring, unthinking stupidity. But Justin vowed to have a little private talk with each of the principal offenders in the very near future. Enough with the Brian bashing! He was going to have to educate these people or else find a way to keep his man away from this hurtfulness.

The night dragged by. Brian mostly sat unspeaking, silently brooding and fuming at the demeaning toasts, the offensive gag gifts and all the jokes about his age. It didn't help that Brian had to sit through it all stone cold sober. Justin sat, equally silent, bubbling with anger but afraid to open his mouth for fear it would all come boiling out. Daphne sat next to Justin, stunned at the harshness of the endless jokes on Brian's behalf. All the rest - they'd all been there for quite some time drinking and preparing for the roast for a long while before Brian's group arrived - were having a great old time and kept amusing themselves with how witty and cutting their jokes were.

The only even slightly redeeming part of the evening was Gus. At one point, as a prop for one of the jokes, Lindsey plopped the baby down in Brian's lap. When the joke was done, Brian refused to relinquish the boy, holding on to the small body for the rest of the night like the child was a life preserver and the only thing keeping him afloat in this sea of derision. Gus, happily ignorant of the proceedings, gurgled, smiled up at his Daddy and patted the man's large face with pudgy soft hands.

Once Brian's attention was focused on his son, he simply ignored the rest of the gang's gibes and concentrated on the happy, warm little boy. Before long the baby cuddled up in his father's comforting arms and promtly fell asleep, inspiring the only smile to grace Brian's sad face the whole night. The beautiful image melted Justin's heart and made him momentarily all wishy-washy thinking about how endearing Brian would soon be when it was their child in his arms. If the sentimental little blond had to brush away a tear or two, he must have done it discretely enough, because no one commented. However, the touching sight must have been enough to reach a few other hearts in the room, because after that, the jokes and teasing died away and in no time everyone was packing up to leave.

When Brian had to reluctantly give the sleeping child back to his mother, he kissed the soft little cheek and whispered, "Goodnight, Sonnyboy." Then Brian turned and walked out the door without saying anything further to anyone. Justin and Daphne scampered after him, happy to be getting away from the scene of the disaster. Justin slammed the front door closed behind him to block out the sound of Mel and Michael, both complaining about how Brian hadn't even said 'thank you' to them for the party and how he'd left all his gifts.

Chapter 19 - Justin’s Meltdown.

There was no talking in the Jeep on the drive back to the loft. When they arrived, Daph made a quick exit, leaving Brian and Justin to brood together in peace. Upstairs, Brian shrugged off Justin's half-hearted attempt to start a conversation and went directly to the bedroom. He stripped and curled up on his side in bed without saying a word.

Which left Justin standing alone in the middle of the loft with no idea what to do next. He was too angry and hyper to sit, but didn't want to pace or do anything else that might make enough noise to disturb Brian if the man was resting. He wanted to climb into the big bed and comfort Brian, but didn't know if his efforts would be welcomed or if he'd only be making things worse. He wanted to go right back to Debbie's and lay into her and Michael and all the rest of the insensitive cretins who had ruined this night, but he knew that would be a really bad idea in his present emotional state. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw things. He wanted to hit someone.

But, what Justin ended up doing was sketching. His art had always been his primary means of emotional release. And he needed that release now more than ever. So he sat down right there in the middle of the floor in the loft, pulled his sketch pad out of his bag along with a piece of charcoal and started drawing the beautiful image he still had in his head of Brian holding a sleeping Gus.

Justin hadn't a clue how long he was sitting there, drawing and stewing over everything that had happened that day. He lost all consciousness of his surroundings, carried away by the tender image that was appearing under his charcoal and his chaotic thoughts. He wasn't aware he'd been quietly crying until a warm throw was draped over his shoulders and he felt Brian sitting behind him, pulling his cold body back against the strong warm chest.

"You're going to ruin that drawing if you keep dripping all over it," Brian breathed into the soft hair at the nape of Justin's neck.

Justin looked down and saw where his tears had dribbled onto the corner of the picture and smudged part of the drawing. That was what finally broke him - seeing his perfect picture of the beautiful man holding his sweet little son marred by the wetness. That's when Justin turned his head into the comfort of Brian's chest and began to sob uncontrollably.

Considering that Brian had virtually no prior experience trying to comfort someone who was crying, he actually did a pretty decent job of consoling Justin. He managed the holding and lightly patting on the distraught man's shoulder. He made appropriate shhhhhing noises and occasionally said 'there, there'. These were truly all signs of huge emotional growth in the reserved man. But what Brian was NOT prepared for was how easy it was for Justin to segue from the standard 'it's okay' to the opening up of the floodgates allowing for all out emotional, soul-baring discussions.

"It's okay, Justin. Whatever it is, it will be okay". Brian opened that fateful door.

"It's NOT okay, Brian! It's completely fucked. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where I'm going. I haven't got a clue what you plan to do and I'm scared shitless you're going to try to keep me away from our child. And I'm so tired, I can't keep this up but then again I can't leave you all alone with nobody to support you. The family is completely useless and I can't trust Michael not to get you into the kind of trouble that might be bad for the baby or for you. So, how can it possibly be okay? How?" The Justin floodgate of emotions was officially open.

Brian could duck and cover, he could flee from the scene screaming or he could try to delve his way through the morass, trying to sort things out logically as he went. Brian was a courageous man and gallantly went for option three, without really thinking it through. He was brave but just a tad bit foolhardy.

"Come on, Sunshine. It's not as bad as all that. Hey, I'm the one that just turned thirty. If I can survive that, topped off by a party given by my nearest and dearest friends who apparently hate me, you'll get through whatever's bothering you." Brian said, trying to approach things logically but with humor.

"What am I going to do if you try to keep me out of our baby's life? I couldn't bear to have it be like with you and Gus. You love him so much Brian but you hardly ever get to spend time with him. I don't want that for me or for our baby."

"Justin, I would never do that to you. I know you'll be a great father and I do want you to be part of the baby's life. We'll figure it out." Brian tried to console the worried youth but his words just brought on a fresh spate of tears.

"Yeah, right! You say that now, Brian, but how exactly is it going to work out? I don't know where I'll be living. I don't even know where you'll be living. You can't possibly stay here. The loft isn't exactly baby-proofed. But if you leave, how will I ever see the baby? Where will you go?"

"And what are you going to do once the baby's born? Are you going to be able to keep on working? How? Who will take care of the baby during the day. And how will you be able to work with a newborn keeping you up all night? And even if you put the baby in child care, you're going to have to cut back your hours because nobody's going to keep a newborn for 60-80 hours a week. Plus, kids that grow up their whole lives in daycare without enough parental attention have a lot of emotional and psychological problems."

"I could help you with the baby, if you let me. But I'd need to live somewhere close to you. What if I can't find someplace I can afford wherever you move. I could stay at Deb's, at least it's cheap, but it's getting harder to stay there and not kill them all especially after how they all acted tonight. But, I don't really make enough money to get a real place. Besides, I should probably save as much money as I can to pay for college next year, that is assuming its even going to be possible since my dad's refusing to pay for me to go to a fairy boy art school. Plus, if I do go to school, how am I going to be able to help you with the baby. And how am I going to get enough money to pay for school and an apartment and help with expenses for the baby. Fuck! There's no way I can do school. I'll have to get a full time job. But then I still won't be able to help you watch the baby, unless I work nights, maybe . . ."

Brian had tried to stop Justin's tirade several times without any success. The more the boy talked, his worries going around and around in circles, the more confused and worried Brian started to get too. Finally, using the most effective way he knew to silence the boy, Brian grabbed Justin by the shoulders, twisted his body around so he could see the tear stained face and kissed the babbling boy hard and deep until all his protests ceased.

When he thought Justin would finally stay quiet, Brian released his lips, but holding up one index finger to mark his place. "Justin, I need to ask you two things before we go on, okay." Justin nodded and sniffed. "First, do we have to have this conversation here on the hard ass floor? Wouldn't it be better to talk somewhere softer and warmer?" Justin nodded again but didn't start to move until he'd heard Brian's second question.

"Okay, good. Now, can we please just deal with only one of the fifty thousand odd things you just brought up in under ten seconds? I'm starting to get freaked out listening to you, and we obviously can only have one of us freaking at a time. I can handle dealing with just one thing tonight. Then we'll fuck and then we'll get some sleep because we're both exhausted. Then, maybe tomorrow, we can take on one or two other problems. How does that sound?"

"Good," Justin relented.

Brian unfolded himself gracefully and then pulled Justin up after him. The two men padded over to the big comfy bed that they'd spent so many hours in together over the past months. Brian pulled Justin's clothes off efficiently and then tossed aside the small blanket he'd had wrapped around them on the floor. Brian crawled under the covers and then held a corner of the duvet up for Justin. The tired young blond crawled in too and then scooted over until he was in his favorite spot with his head resting on Brian's shoulder, one arm reaching across the other's belly and their legs entwined.

"Okay, Justin," Brian kissed the top of the thatch of thick blond hair. What do you want to deal with first?"

There was just so much, so many uncertainties, it took Justin quite a while to figure out one single issue that they could start with. However, he settled at last on what, in his mind, was one of the biggest questions, "where are you and the baby going to live?"

"I've actually been thinking about this quite a bit," Brian stated with some confidence. "I think I'd like to find a house. Nothing all-hetero-heaven like what the munchers have but someplace big enough for a family and with a yard for the kid because . . . I don't really know anything but I thought . . . A kid might like a nice yard to play in."

"That sounds nice," Justin offered a little hesitantly. "Where is this house going to be?"

"I don't exactly know yet, but I'm not planning on leaving Pittsburgh," Brian assured the worried youth.

"That's good," Justin stated still unsure of so many variables though.

"And, Sunshine, I want the house to be big enough so you can have a studio there for your art. And maybe a nicer kitchen so you can cook. Maybe even a big jacuzzi tub in the master bath, too, since you seem like the type who'd like a long soak in a bubble bath . . . " Brian was watching the effect his words had on the boy with a small affectionate smile on his beautiful lips. "How does that sound to you? Did I miss anything? Hmm? Is there anything else you'd like in OUR house, Justin?"

"Our . . . Really? . . . OUR house? Are you serious Brian? Are you sure?" Justin was trembling with excitement at Brian's announcement, still not completely sure that Brian wasn't teasing.

"Shut up, twat. Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't sure," Brian hugged the trembling youth with gusto to emphasize his words. "Besides, we couldn't have the kid growing up and eventually noticing that one of its fathers had to Break and Enter every time he came to visit! I have no idea how we'll work this, Sunshine, but I do want you there to be part of the baby's life. So, what do you say? You want to shack up with me, Sunshine? Since you've already knocked me up, it's the least you could do."

"Yes, yes, yes, Brian! Yes. I would love to shack up with you. Thank you. I know we can make this work. I'll get a job so I can help more with the expenses and . . . "

"Uh uh uh, Sunshine," Brian stopped this new pending rant before Justin could get started by clamping his hand over the boy's mouth. "Remember, I said we'd only deal with one thing tonight. Housing - that was your one thing. Now it's time to fuck. So no more talking unless it involves admiring my cock or begging me to fuck you harder. Got it?"

Justin nodded his head, the love and amusement clearly showing in his sparkling blue eyes, and Brian released his hold on the youth's mouth. As soon as Brian's hand was gone, Justin let out an infectious giggle and squirmed on top of his man, straddling Brian's hips. Brian let himself chuckle back at his beaming, enthusiastic Twinkie. The squirming little blond dynamo was eager to show Brian his gratitude and prove to the older man he wouldn't be sorry about the reversal of his decision to let Justin move in.

Beginning at the top, the Blond Dynamo rained down sloppy, wet, sucking kisses all over his subject. He kissed the feathery soft auburn hair, the broad, intelligent forehead, both prominently high cheekbones then moved briefly to the sweet tender ever-kissable cranberry lips. Without lingering, the Dynamo moved on, kissing, nibbling, licking at Brian's sensitive, long neck, down over the jutting collar bone and on to the strong, well-formed chest.

Dynamo Boy couldn't help lingering a bit at the tempting dark nipples, Brian's pecs so much fuller now, so lickable, sexier than ever before. Justin moaned at the tasty pleasure, causing Brian to grumble a bit, ordering the Dynamo to quit sucking his tits and get on with it. Justin grinned up at the pseudo-angry man, took one last, long swipe with the flat of his tongue across a hyper-sensitive nipple and set Brian to moaning and wiggling from the pleasure of it.

But the Dynamo Boy obediently moved on, decorating Brian's chest and belly with glistening curls of saliva as his tongue glided over the delicious, golden skin. Brian just tasted so good - Justin wondered briefly if it was possible that his skin was truly sweeter to the taste than before or if it was merely his imagination. He moved over to the cute little navel and buried his tongue in it, pressing his face down into Brian's still flat and taut stomach muscles. He couldn't wait till that belly started to plump up a little, giving some outward sign of the treasure hiding within.

Brian was now starting to squirm a little, protesting the DB's too slow progress. DB was happy to oblige his lover's wishes and immediately shifted his body lower so he could concentrate on the meat of the situation. But, first he buried his nose in the thatch of soft chestnut pubes at Brian's groin and inhaled deeply. Justin had been giggling to himself ever since Brian's comment about how tricks didn't smell right any more, but secretly he agreed with the sentiment. Nothing and no one smelled as good to him as Brian. That musky, sweaty, ripe maleness triggered something deep within him that screamed out a primal roar of 'MINE' every time he breathed in his man. It wasn't something conscious that he could ever control, it just was and he thought he never would be able to give it up.

While he was still reveling in the heady aroma, a warm, stiff presence made it's need for attention known by tapping at a blond cheek. The Dynamo turned his head to greet the insistent visitor and proceeded to kiss the plump plum-colored head of the magnificent cock he found waiting for him. Brian sighed as the DB turned his attention to this most needy appendage.

Justin got to work. He started by trailing light kisses all down the long solid shaft and then proceeded to lick his way back to the top. He nibbled a bit around the prominent ridge and then kissed and licked again at the top, exploring everywhere with his eager tongue. The gorgeous cock, enthusiastic to be again the deserving center of attention, twitched and leapt up to meet each long wet swipe of Justin's tongue.

However, the Dynamo Boy was interested in having more than just a passing acquaintance with Mr. Cock tonight. No mere blow job was going to cut it. The Dynamo wanted all of Mr. Cock inside him. He wanted to ride that cock long and hard and all night long, if it was possible. So, politely kissing the friendly little bugger, Justin moved away enough to grab the requisite supplies, dressed Mr. Cock in a fine latex suit, applied enough lube so he was all glistening prettily, and then the indefatigable Dynamo impaled himself on the glorious cock and rode and rode and rode, wildly and with great gusto, much to Brian and Mr. Cock's delight.

Everyone thereafter seemed to agree it had been a lovely way to seal the deal about their moving in together.

Chapter 20 - Breakfast at Brian's!

Brian had switched off his alarm clock and decided to sleep in late the next morning seeing as it was Saturday. When he did awake, it was to the sight of Justin already folding his clothes and moving them into the bottom drawer of the dresser. Over in the closet, Brian could see Justin's few dressier clothes already hung up. He was sure that a drawer of the desk had already been cleared out for Justin's papers and the sketching and art equipment was probably on the shelf by the window, too. The boy was wasting no time moving in, apparently.

"Hey, you!" Brian called to get Justin's attention. "You DO sleep sometimes, don't you? How did you get all this done before 10:00 am? Especially since I know I kept you busy until way past 2:00?"

"I was too excited to sleep!" Justin admitted and then launched himself back into bed, landing atop the sprawling form of the lounging brunet and eliciting an 'ooof' from his makeshift landing pad.

"Ugh! No jumping on the prego guy! That bubble butt of yours weighs a ton!" Brian laughingly complained.

"I thought you liked it when I jumped you?" Justin teased back, tickling Brian's sides lightly and causing the grown man to wriggle and giggle like a girl.

"Stop. Stop! STOP!" Brian's ordered. "First you get off me and let me get to the toilet before I piss myself. Then . . . You can jump me!" Brian tossed the slight framed younger man off him and Justin landed giggling on the pillows nearby.

When Brian came back from using the toilet, a playful Justin ambushed him from behind, jumping out of the closet with a banshee yell and toppling them both back onto the bed in a pile of limbs and laughter. Brian was in a playful mood too and only put up a token fight as Justin wrestled him into place, tickling and teasing the bigger man until Brian's head was back up at the top of the bed. Then, quicker than the big man had expected, Justin seized his wrist and had it locked into a padded handcuff that was attached to a hook on the headboard. Brian hardly had enough time to yank futilely on the cuff and say "What?" before Justin had a hold of the other wrist and it too was cuffed to the other side of the headboard.

"Justin, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Brian demanded, his voice still amused but starting to sound a bit annoyed, too.

"I'm going to feed you breakfast in bed, Mr. Stud!" Justin announced with another peal of laughter as he skipped out of the room towards the kitchen.

"Justin? Justin, get the fuck back in here, you twat! You're going to get it for this later!"

"I certainly hope so!" Justin asserted as he came back into the bedroom with a large steaming mug of Brian's special blend of coffee and a plateful of hot, scrumptious-smelling cinnamon rolls, dripping with cream cheese icing.

"What the hell is that," Brian asked, pointing at the plate with his chin.

"This, 'Oh Great Stud Muffin', is your breakfast. Remember when I promised Chiefy to tie you up and force feed you? I wasn't joking!" Justin calmly informed a now squirming Brian.

"That is NOT breakfast, Justin. That is like a million empty calories full of fat and sugar. It has no nutritional value. There's no fucking way I'm eating that."

"Sorry, Super Stud, but you are SO eating every yummy, gooey, bite of this," Justin insisted as he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself astride his still squirming captive. "Remember those four pounds you need to gain?"

"Nobody said I need to put them all on at one meal, Sunshine," Brian responded, but his voice was sounding less insistent the closer the delicious smelling treat got.

Justin cut into the first roll with the side of his fork and waived the tantalizing bite just in front of Brian's face. "Open wide!" He teased.

"I'm going to . . . " Brian was going to keep arguing, but Justin took his chance and as soon as his captive opened his mouth, he shoved the forkful of tasty cinnamon goodness in. Brian had to either chew and swallow or spit the food out. He chose to swallow.

It was mouthwateringly delicious. Brian, of course would never admit this out loud, but when Justin came at him with another forkful, all he did was make a face, proving his ongoing annoyance and then obediently opened wide. Justin laughed at Brian's easy capitulation and, when he was done with that bite, Brian grudgingly laughed too. After that it was easy. Brian lay there and let Justin feed them both, accepting the occasional slurp of coffee by way of a bendy straw, and they giggled and goofed off and were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

They were about two-thirds of the way through the plate of sweet rolls, when they were surprised by the sound of the loft door sliding open.

"Briannnn?" Came the insistent cry of the interloper and Michael strode boldly into the loft without bothering to see if he was invited.

Brian and Justin simply stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Brian was still lying naked and handcuffed to the bed with Justin, equally naked, sitting astride him holding up a plateful of rolls and with one forkful of the treat already halfway to the captive's mouth. Brian knew this was going to be good!

"Brian? Are you here?" Mikey hollered as he walked around the couch and straight up to the bedroom. "B-B-Brian?" Michael sputtered when he finally got a glimpse of the strange tableau waiting for him in Brian's bed.

"Good morning, Mikey," Brian said as if there were nothing out of the ordinary about this situation. "What can we do for you this fine morning? You'll have to forgive Sunshine and me for not getting up. You're sort of interrupting our breakfast. Justin . . . " Brian opened his mouth wide and wiggled his eyebrows to let the youth know he was ready for the next bite.

Justin giggled as he fed his happy captive the next bite. Michael stood there staring with his mouth hanging open, completely astounded by this unexpected sight. Brian appeared totally unfazed.

"More coffee," Brian requested and then deftly sipped away at the bendy straw sticking out of the mug of coffee Justin held out for him.

"So, what was it you needed, Mikey?" Brian asked pleasantly.

"I-I-I was worried because you never returned any of my calls last night," Michael finally stammered out. "And, you forgot all your gifts . . . I thought you might be a little depressed about turning thirty and all so I came over to cheer you up?"

"Do I seem depressed to you, Mikey?" Brian asked as Justin carefully fed the man another gooey bite of cinnamon roll, and then proceeded to bend over and lick off the frosting that had dripped down Brian's chin by accident. "Mmmmm," Brian moaned, clearly liking both the treat and the treatment.

"W-w-what about all your gifts?" Michael choked out, drooling a bit as he watched Justin continuing to lick further down Brian's chin, and his neck and beyond.

"Toss 'em. I don't want any of that crap." Brian insisted.

"Oh," interjected Justin, coming up for air briefly. "Except for the big neon green dildo from Emmett - I have some ideas about that."

"Okay, Sunshine. We'll keep the green dildo. The rest you can trash, Mikey."

"But, we all bought that stuff for you, Brian!" Michael whined at the unfair treatment of the gifts he and the others had purchased for their friend.

"You bought a bunch of worthless shit, Mikey. It's not my problem how you waste your money. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my breakfast and other pleasurable activities which you are NOT invited to join. Bye-bye, Mikey!" Brian waived one handcuffed hand in dismissal and then returned his attention to his blond breakfast server.

When Michael still hadn't moved after the next bite of sweet roll was delivered, Justin added, "Don't forget to lock the door behind you, Michael. Oh, and Michael? Brian will be busy the ENTIRE rest of the day and probably all night too so don't bother stopping by again. Or calling. Or sending Deb over."

"But, Brian?"

"You heard the man, Michael! Get the fuck out of here so we can fuck already!" Brian ordered and the interloper finally shuffled away dejectedly.

At the sound of the loft door sliding shut and the lock clicking, both Brian and Justin collapsed in uncontrollable laughter.

"His face, oh my god, his face was so . . ." Justin exclaimed, breathless from laughter, rolling around on the bed, unable to stop giggling.

"This is all your fault, Sunshine," Brian said, chuckling almost as hard as Justin. "I'm blaming you if I get accused of starting a fad for breakfast orgies or something. Shit, I can't wait to hear what all the rumors about this are going to end up saying!"

#######BBBBB########

"Shit, Ted! You won't believe what I just saw at Brian's! Oh my God! I'm already on my way to meet David for breakfast. Get Em and meet us at the Diner and I'll tell you everything. You are going to DIE when you hear this!" Michael hung up his phone and trotted down the sidewalk next to Brian's building. He couldn't wait to tell everyone what was going on in the loft this morning!

########BBBB#######

Michael was already on his third retelling of the epic adventure of 'Breakfast at Brian's', complete with humorous embellishments added wherever he thought they were needed regardless of whether or not they increased the veracity of the story. If all of Liberty Avenue hadn't heard the tale before the gang finished their breakfast at the Diner, it wasn't because Michael hadn't recounted the entire episode as loudly as he could so that everyone around would be able to hear. Initially, both Emmett and Ted had tried to shush their loudmouthed friend, but after they too became embroiled in the story, they forgot and laughed along just as loudly as the rest.

The Gay Grapevine simply adored Kinney stories. Everyone who heard the story that morning in the Diner immediately passed it along to any other friend they could get a hold of by phone. In fact, the number of calls, texts and IM's coming from the Diner that morning almost overwhelmed the local cell phone tower.

As the gang left, still gossiping, laughing and joking about the latest exploits of La Kinney, David's cell phone rang. "I better take this," David told Michael as he dropped back a step to let the giggling bunch continue their gabbing without his call interrupting them.

"Hey, Larry! What's up? . . . . " David answered the call. "No, sorry. I don't have anything more for you on that. Besides you still owe me a beer for the last tip I gave you about the back door. . . You're serious? A thousand bucks? That's nice pocket change . . . Well, I can try my friend who works in records again and see . . . Yeah, well, I'll try my best. If I get anything I'll let you know. But I still want that beer, regardless. . . No problem. Talk to you later, Larry."

"Work stuff, again?" Michael groused, standing next to David's Lexus and waiting for his boyfriend to end his call.

"Sort of," David responded absently, already looking through his contacts list to find another number. "Sorry, Michael, but I just need to make one other quick call. It'll be short, I promise," David added as he unlocked the car door and they both got in.

"Hey, Marco, it's David. . . . Yeah, it was a great game. I'm glad I was able to get you those tickets. Did your kid like it? . . . Yeah, we'll turn him into a Penguins fan yet. . . Marco, the reason I called is I need another favor. I have a new patient that was being referred to me from your office, but my fax machine died in the middle of printing out the referral form. It's a complete mess. I can barely read any of it and I can't even make out the patient's name. Can you just confirm for me the names of all the patients seen yesterday afternoon between 2:00 and 3:00 pm? I know I'll recognize the name when I hear it. . . . Thank you so much, Marco. You're a life-saver. . . . Yeah, I'm ready. Nelson, Landis, Pryor, Chanders. That's it? No, none of those sound familiar. But, don't worry about it. I'll just wait till Monday and call Gail. Thanks, anyway. Yeah, no problem. Bye!"

"Did you say 'Chanders'?" Michael asked after shamelessly eavesdropping on his boyfriend's conversation. "As in Daphne Chanders? Boy Wonder's fag hag? What's she doing coming to your office?"

"Daphne's last name is 'Chanders'? I didn't know that. But she's not my patient. I'm sure it's just a coincidence. . . " David's voice trailed off as he concentrated briefly on a text he was sending - it looked like the list of names to Michael - before he tossed aside his phone and started the car.

Chapter 21 - Turn Around.

The best part of having Justin officially living at the loft, at least according to Brian, was the almost instant gratification of his every sexual need. And that was saying A LOT, because his needs seemed to be pretty incessant these days. All of Justin's books talked about how he was supposed to feel an increased 'sense of well-being' starting in his fouth month of pregnancy. Yeah, Brian admitted that he felt good. Real, real good! In fact, he felt really, really good pretty much all day long lately - which meant that it was a good thing Justin's ass was there and available all day long.

Brian had NEVER been this horny. Not even as a fumbling, unfulfilled teenager. He woke up with a raging hard on and, no matter what he did, he stayed hard pretty much all day long. Yes, Brian's sex drive had always been strong, but even he was willing to concede this was simply ridiculous. If his usual quota of daily orgasms was around three to five, he could easily double that these days without even blinking.

Which is where Justin's ass and his never-to-be-underestimated sense of sexual creativity came into the picture. Hell, that boy could fuck! And fuck, and fuck, and fuck! Brian had never known anyone who could keep pace with him, and that was before this prego shit. But, somehow, the young blond dynamo managed to not only keep up but even occasionally outpace the master. It was definitely a match made in gay heaven!

Now, if only he could find a way to smuggle the tireless boy into work with him. Going nine plus hours at a time at work away from his primary means of sexual release was incredibly hard. It was so very, very hard all day! And Brian couldn't spend all his time in the washroom jacking off. Could he?

However, when he did manage to redirect all that sexual energy, his work was fantastic. The ads Brian produced had never been sexier, bolder or more attractive. Ryder was over the moon with Brian's most recent campaigns and told him repeatedly, whatever he was doing, he should 'keep it up'. Which always made Brian laugh out loud. Ryder suspected, at least half the time, that his top ad exec was crazy, and the maniacal laughter didn't help much, but whatever worked, right?

The only time Brian wasn't thinking about sex these days, was when he was thinking about food. His appetite for food seemed to have increased in direct proportion to his appetite for sex. Brian seemed to always be hungry lately. And all the damn wierd-ass cravings! Everything he normally avoided eating, he now simply HAD to have: ice cream, cookies, pastries, even fucking candy bars. It was insane. Justin wasn't helping matters either - the boy seemed convinced that his sole function in life, besides fucking with Brian every hour on the hour, was to feed Brian till he burst. By four o'clock every afternoon, Brian wasn't sure what he was looking forward to more - getting home to Justin to fuck, or getting home so Justin could feed him.

Justin himself, meanwhile, was busy putting in his time trying to get through the last, boring week of his senior year. With finals over, there wasn't much for the seniors to do - they just had to show up for purposes of attendance while they awaited the posting of their final grades and the big graduation ceremony the following Saturday. Justin wasn't the least bit interested in any of the Graduation 'fun' activities. So, he and Daphne just sat around, watched the movies the teachers put on in lieu of new lectures, sketched, planned out what he could make or buy for dinner that night to tempt Brian with and waited until it was possible for him to escape back to the loft every afternoon.

Thursday, on his way home from his last full day of school, Justin stopped by Deb's. He went up to Michael's old room - it had never really felt like 'his' room, what with the childish wallpaper and the closet full of Michael's toys and books, but it had been a safe haven for him these past few months. Justin hadn't thought that he'd be sad to get out of here, but he was. A little.

Debbie came in while Justin was gathering up the last of his things to take to Brian's. He looked up at the motherly redhead who'd volunteered to be his surrogate mother all these months. He was a bit embarrassed to tell her he was moving out on her, at least like this, with no warning. But he had to seize his chance to be with Brian - Brian, and their child, was his future now.

"So, I was wondering when you'd get around to telling me you were moving out," Debbie commented with her usual loud humor-filled voice.

"You knew already?" Justin was amazed that he'd been found out.

"I kinda got wise to it when all your clothes disappeared, Sunshine," Deb laughed. "But, even before that, I saw it coming. You've been over at Brian's pretty much every night for months. So, I assume that's where you're moving to?"

"Yeah. He asked me to move in last Friday, after the . . . Party," Justin wanted to call the affair something much ruder but settled for the term 'party'. "Brian was pretty upset after that, you know. I kind of expected it from Michael and Mel, I guess, even though I asked them not to do that crap. But, I was a little disappointed that you went along with it Deb, especially after I'd come to you and asked for your help. . . "

"I'm sorry about that, Sunshine. I really didn't think the boys would take things quite so far," Debbie apologized. "I also honestly didn't think Brian would take it that hard. Brian's always had a pretty thick skin, you know. He's always been able to dish it out just as hard as he received. I didn't see at first how hurt he was but when he just sat there and didn't even bother insulting everyone back, I realized we'd all gone way overboard. If he ever comes back to the Diner or talks to me again, I plan to apologize."

"I think that he'd appreciate that, Deb. Brian's going through a lot of shit right now and he just really didn't need to deal with his family giving him more."

"So, what 'shit' exactly is hitting Brian so hard?" Debbie was tempted out of her contrite mode and back into the nosy mother mode so easily.

"I can't say, Debbie. But, just . . . Maybe you could try being a bit less insensitive towards Brian for a bit. He could really use his family's support right now. Okay?"

"Okay, Sunshine, I'll do my best. Although you do know that 'Blunt' is my middle name, right?" Debbie guffawed, laughing at herself as hard, if not harder, than she would at anyone else. "Is that - whatever the shit is that Brian's dealing with - is that why you're moving in with him, Justin? I mean, I love you both and I don't want you starting out together with some big problem overshadowing everything. That's not how you want to start out together in life, Baby."

"No, Deb. That's not the reason I'm moving in with Brian. Of course, I want to help him any time he's in trouble or hurt, but that's because I love him. I'm moving in with him because I think, maybe, he loves me too."

"Well, good for you, Baby!" Debbie could no longer hold back and she grabbed Justin in a big bear hug before the boy thought to escape. "I hope it all works out. But you remember, Sunshine, there'll always be a place for you here if you need it. Okay?"

"Thanks, Debbie." Justin concluded as he zipped his bag closed with the last of his stuff inside.

"Now, if you're done up here, you come on down and I'll give you a lasagne to take home for dinner tonight. Nobody wants to cook after they've been moving." As Debbie turned and headed down the hallway she added over her shoulder "and, hopefully you won't have to tie Brian up to get him to eat this! Ha!" Justin could hear her boisterous cackling as she walked all the way down to the kitchen.

Which is why Justin was pulling lasagne out of the oven when Brian got home from work, ready to eat either Justin or dinner whichever would be ready first.

Since the food was hot - albeit, not hotter than Justin's ass, but that would stay hot far longer than the food - Brian opted for dinner first.

In the mere week since Justin had officially moved in, the two men had already settled into a comfortable coexistence. It was almost like Brian had been, ever so slightly and never in a way that would be acknowledged, domesticated. Which meant that they often spent the time they were sitting together eating supper talking about their days, sharing funny stories and catching each other up on their lives. It was almost like they'd become *gasp* a couple! Luckily, Brian hadn't seemed to notice yet.

So, as they sat gobbling up Deb's famous triple cheese lasagne, Justin told Brian all about his visit with the matriarch, Brian shared his latest brilliant ad campaign strategy and they chatted about nothing in particular. It was so agreeable. So satisfying. Justin was encouraged by the comfortable domestic scene. He decided to take a risk and ask his new roomie something he'd been putting off.

"So, uh, Brian . . . I was wondering if you'd like to do something . . . And, I'll completely understand if you don't want to. I mean, you're probably already busy or something and that's fine, but if you weren't busy and still didn't want to, that wouldn't be a problem either. Really. I'm okay with it no matter what . . . "

"Are you actually going to ask me something, Sunshine," Brian interrupted the ramblings with an amused look. "Or were you just skipping that part and moving on to rehearse my regrets speech for me?"

"Right . . . So, Saturday is my Graduation and they gave us each four tickets. My Mom and Molly will be there, of course, and I invited Debbie when I was over there earlier, but . . . That still leaves one ticket and, unless Hell is likely to freeze over this weekend, you can bet my Dad won't be showing up so, I thought maybe . . . you . . . But, like I said, it's your choice and I'll completely understand if you don't want to come."

"I'd be honored to attend your Graduation," Brian insisted before Justin could get on a roll again.

Justin beamed a truly stunning smile in Brian's direction, jumped into the startled man's lap and encouraged Brian to move on to the second course for the evening - him!

The morning of the big day, Brian had offered to treat the soon-to-be-grad to a breakfast at the Diner. Brian hadn't been back there since before the whole incident with Michael had gone down. His thought was that he should give the Bondage Breakfast rumors time to die down a bit. Justin, who'd already endured his share of teasing the few times he'd come in for work, agreed but thought that it had probably been long enough for the scandal to be replaced by some newer gossip.

Justin, however, was wrong.

Justin entered the restaurant ahead of Brian and there wasn't any noticeable change in the atmosphere of the room as he came through the door. But, as the first onlooker glimpsed the taller form following behind the lithe little blond frame, the whispering started. By the time Brian reached the threshold, the entire place had already been notified of his imminent arrival and the room went silent.

Brian reached the center of the noiseless restaurant and then turned, staring down his audience with insouciance.

At first no one seemed willing to meet Brian's direct gaze. Then, one grizzled, older leather daddy, a guy who looked like he'd seen his own share of handcuffs over the years, stood up from his seat at the counter, looked Brian right in the eyes . . . and started clapping. Brian gave the old Master his signature smirk and bowed slightly to the applauding man. The rest of the admiring queers all leapt to their feet and the entire Diner ended up giving the Outrageous Stud a standing ovation.

Really, Brian Kinney was their Reigning King. He could do no wrong. In fact, to many, he was a fucking inspiration. Many there had already ventured to try out their own version of a Bondage Breakfast and it had turned out to be a wildly popular past time. Brian had nothing to worry about, as long as he remained Brian Fucking Kinney.

As soon as Brian had taken his bows and quelled the attentions of his adoring public, he and Justin seated themselves in their favorite booth, sliding in across the table from a grinning Michael and a scowling Dr. Dave.

"Why, if it isn't the incorrigible Brian Kinney," David addressed his new seatmate with disdainful mockery.

"I really am, aren't I," Brian returned with sexy smirk. He draped his arm around Justin's shoulders and, with the hand hidden beneath the table, ran a fingertip up the inside of the blond's thigh. "What do you think, Sunshine? Am I incorrigible? Do I 'in-courage' you to anything in particular," the perpetually horny man whispered into the shaggy nape of the blond neck.

"Brian," Justin cautioned. "Food first, please. I'm fucking starving."

"But, I'm hungry now, Sunshine, and I don't think I can wait till after breakfast," Brian complained, almost whined, with his need.

"Enough, Asshole," Debbie demanded, coming up stealthily from behind and slapping Brian upside the head in her familiar greeting. "Let Sunshine get at least some of his protein off a plate today! Now, what are you boys having?"

"So is that why you had to chain him to the bed, Boy Wonder?" Michael asked with a disrespectful sneer directed at Justin. "He wouldn't let you off his dick long enough to eat?"

"What the fuck do you care, Mikey," Brian snapped, his playful good mood instantly morphing into angry loathing as he turned to look at his former friend. "Why should it matter how long, in what positions, how often or where Justin rides my dick? It's none of YOUR fucking business. Or, is it just that Dr. David hasn't let you onto his dick enough lately?"

"What the fuck, Brian?" Michael protested indignantly. "I'm just joking."

"Oh, really? So, when it comes to belittling me or my partner or spreading rumors about my life, it's 'Just Joking'? But when I do it, it's suddenly a problem? Fuck you, Mikey. I told you last time you started a vicious rumor about me that if you did it again, you wouldn't like the consequences. Don't blame me if you're too fucking stupid to listen when you're given a warning!" Brian taunted ruthlessly, pointing an accusing finger into the cowering man's face.

Both Michael and Debbie were stunned speechless at such vitriol coming from the normally placid Brian. David was starting to sputter, preparing to call Brian out for his rude behavior towards Michael. But, everything calmed almost instantly when Justin reached across his body and pulled Brian's face down into the crook of his neck with a muttered, "Brian." Brian let his head rest there, as he worked to calm his heavy breathing, while Justin whispered something into the irate man's ear. After about thirty seconds, Brian lifted his head and looked into Justin's soothing crystal blue eyes, smiling at the younger man with a look of evident adoration.

Next, Justin turned his attention to the waiting waitress. "Debbie, we'll have the waffle breakfast, with wheat toast, eggs basted and an extra order of hash browns," the conciliatory blond ordered, then gave Brian a little shove indicating he wanted out of the booth. "And, while we're waiting for that," the blond smiled seductively at his eager companion, "there's something I need to take care of. Come on, Brian!" Justin walked away towards the rear of the Diner, a now genial and radiant brunet following on his heels.

"What the HELL was that?" Michael complained as soon as the two men were out of sight.

Emmett's amused and sunny face popped up from behind where Michael and David were sitting. "That, Baby, was the sound of your perennial 'Get Out Of Brian Jail Free' card, EXPIRING!"

#######BBBBB########

Chapter 22 - It's a Bumpy Road Ahead!

When Justin and Brian were finished with their little 'motivational meeting' in the men's room, Brian came back out in an obviously improved mood. Luckily, by that time, Michael and David had finished their own breakfast and already decamped. So, the sated and happy duo reseated themselves at Emmett's table to continue their own meal.

Em introduced them to his companion, Mason - his most recent selection from the 'Fuck-of-the-Month Club'. Mason was also a recent émigré from below the Mason-Dixon Line and was as sunny and congenial as Em. This made the rest of the meal much more enjoyable. Nobody seemed to miss Michael at all. Emmett and Mason seemed as absorbed by each other as Brian and Justin, so it didn't get too awkward when the conversation would occasionally lag during impromptu make out sessions.

The boys didn't have too long to linger over their waffles, however. Justin was due at the High School auditorium by 11:00, so he could wait in endless and seemingly pointless lines until the Graduation ceremony actually began at 1:00 pm. Brian had plans for how he could help Justin pass that time more pleasurably. So, the pair had to eat and run, leaving Mason and Em wrapped around each other over a table full of empty plates.

As expected, Justin was dressed in a pair of casual slacks and a lightweight shirt and ready to go long before Brian had even finished with his hair. He knew better than to dress up in a suit and tie just to stand around for hours swathed in an ugly royal blue sateen gown that was heavy, hot and covered him from neck to knees. The youth busied himself with his sketch pad while he patiently waited for his counterpart to finish getting ready.

Even for the impeccable and vain Brian, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time, though. Justin was starting to wonder what could possibly be keeping the man, when he was startled by a vehement "FUCK!" reverberating through the loft from the direction of the bedroom. Thinking Brian was hurt or sick, Justin vaulted to his feet and ran up the stairs.

To find Brian, looking perfectly fine, standing in front of the mirror seemingly about to cry.

"What is it? What's wrong, Brian? Are you hurt?" Justin stammered, trying to turn Brian around to see where he was injured.

My . . . My pants don't fit, Justin! None of them. Fuck, you've only been here a week and already none of my clothes fit! What are you doing to me!" Brian wailed, gesturing at himself in the mirror like the image was so obviously grotesque that anyone would be appalled by the sight of him.

"Um . . . " Justin warily started to respond, concerned that this was one of those times when it was impossible not to say the wrong thing. "You look fine, Brian. Those jeans are a little tight, but you look hot in them."

"Fuck you, Justin!" Brian barked, still staring into the mirror like all was lost.

"Really, Brian, you look great in that," Justin tried again, knowing he was doomed to failure considering how moody Brian had been lately.

"What the fuck would you know? Look! Just . . . Just look!" Brian insisted and pulled up the overhanging hem of the long-sleeved button-up black silk shirt he was wearing.

At first Justin didn't know what it was he was supposed to be looking for. Brian was wearing tight black denim jeans, buttoned low around his hips, just like always. They did seem skin tight, but that was the way Brian liked his jeans. So what was it that had set the man off?

Then, Justin noticed IT. Hanging over the waistband of the jeans was a little paunch of extra flesh. No matter how skin tight his trousers might be, Brian's stomach had always been perfectly flat and toned. Justin doubted the man had ever experienced an ounce of flab anywhere on his perfect body. But, there it was. High up on that stellar abdomen - a little bump!

"Oh, Brian! You're showing! It's so . . ."

"If you DARE say it's 'cute' or 'adorable' or any variation on that theme, whatsoever, Justin, I swear your dick will NEVER make it near my ass ever again!" the distraught father-to-be replied scathingly.

Brian took one last despairing look at himself in the mirror and then dropped his shirt. Once the long shirt tails fell into place, you couldn't tell at all that the insignificant little bump was there. Brian continued to glare at himself, though, as if it was obvious and there was no way he could go out in public like THIS.

Justin did NOT laugh. He really, desperately, wanted to laugh at Brian's complete over-reaction. He really liked his dick, though, and wanted it to not only remain in one piece and fully functional, but he also wanted to ensure he wasn't going to get his dick banned forevermore from the vicinity of Brian's sweet, tight ass. So, Justin did not laugh.

Quickly calculating in his head all possible responses he might make in this particular situation, Justin readily surmised that there was no 'right' answer. He WAS, in fact, the guilty party here and nothing he said was going to make it any better. All he could think to do that wouldn't make things worse was to go up to Brian and take him in his arms.

They stood together like that for several minutes. Justin was behind the taller man with his forehead resting between Brian's shoulder blades, his arms wound lightly around the overwrought man's waist. One of Justin's hands was lying atop one of Brian's, both together gently caressing Brian's swelling abdomen.

Brian's tense body gradually relaxed into Justin's arms. When Justin took a peek over the broad shoulders into the mirror, he saw Brian was still staring at himself, only now, instead of the look of panic, Brian's face was suffused with wistful tenderness. That blissful, elated smile said it all - never, for one second, in spite of the shock, the panic, the uncertainty, had Justin ever doubted how much Brian wanted this child. Even when Brian seemed more afraid of this future than happy about it, there was always an underlying sense of anticipation and wonder. Justin felt the same.

"Come on, Stud! We've got to get moving," Justin said giving the belly one last little squeeze. "I don't want to miss Graduation. If I'm going to be an underemployed, semi-homeless teenage father, I want to at least be able to brag that I DO have my high school diploma!"

Justin swatted the big man on his cute tush and started to move away. Brian spun around and grabbed him before he got far, squeezing him tight and leaving a kiss or two on top of the thick blond locks. "You're NOT homeless, Twat! You live with us. Wherever that might eventually be," Brian whispered and then swatted Justin's behind playfully in return.

#######BBBBB########

Hey, Larry," said the tall dark blond man as he slid onto the next barstool.

"Well, well, well. Dr. Cameron, I presume," replied the pudgy middle aged man who was already seated at the bar. "How's the life of a chiropractor to the stars treating you these days?"

"I've got no complaints, Larry. Although I wouldn't say I was treating stars. Penguins, Pirates, and Ironmen, maybe, but not stars." David replied with clearly false modesty.

"Close enough, my friend, close enough," David's garrulous companion commented.

The unkempt older man signaled the bartender for another beer for his guest. The two old friends sat and sipped at their drinks and reminisced about the good old days. It turned out that Lard Ass used to be the team photographer for the Penguins, and that David had met him the first time he'd been called in to care for a goalie who'd thrown his back out in practice. Since then, Lardy had moved up in the world - or was it down - and become a well known freelance tabloid reporter.

Somehow, even though the two had little in common, they had remained friends all these years. Lardy had been able to refer a lot of business David's way over the years. In return, David had been known to leak a bit of tasty gossip about a few of his more well known patients every now and again. Most of the time the tales he told were just minor embarrassments and didn't really disrupt his patients' lives. Lardy always paid him back by buying beers the next time they got together.

This was the first time Lardy had ever offered to pay him real money for information though. David knew this was much bigger than anything he'd given Lardy before. He rationalized that it wasn't about one of HIS patients, so he wasn't technically doing anything wrong. Plus, if he was correct that Brian Kinney was somehow involved, and he could cause that conceited asshole some grief, it was totally worth all the trouble. Which was why he was here with Lardy tonight.

"So, Cameron, you said you had some ideas for me on the Male Pregnancy case," Lardy interrupted David's reverie. "What are you thinking?"

"One of those names I gave to you - the patients who were at the hospital when the Male Pregnancy was supposed to be there - it sounds familiar. I thought I'd give you a heads up about it and you could maybe check out the info. I don't know if it means anything or not, but it might." David prefaced his comments.

"You let me be the judge of that, my friend. Any lead would be helpful. So which name did you recognize?"

"Chanders. If it's the Chanders I'm thinking of, she's the fag hag of a cute little bottom boy who's been pretty busy around Liberty Avenue lately. And, get this, his favorite top just happens to be the one and only Brian Kinney. I've seen the two together a lot lately. . . I'm not saying your prego is this kid, but who knows right?" David said with a sneer, thinking about how good it would feel to bring the Big Stud down a peg or two.

"That sounds promising, Dave. Very promising," Lardy exclaimed excitedly. "Here, take a look at this. I snapped this picture the last time the prego was supposedly at the hospital. I don't know for sure they're related to my story. They could be three random people who just happened to be there that day, but, if you recognized them . . . "

"Oh, yeah!" David crowed. "I definitely recognize these three. There's your Daphne Chanders, the girl on the end with the curly hair. The blond kid next to her is your likely target, Justin Taylor. And the tall one on the end is Liberty Avenue's most famous Stud, Brian Kinney."

"It looks like you just earned yourself a nice tip, Dr. Cameron," said Lardy, passing a sealed money envelope over to his gloating friend.

#########BBBBB#########

Brian got Justin to Graduation only fifteen minutes late for his first line. Justin checked in and then went to stand at the back of the line to pick up his robe. Daphne, who already had her own stunning dark blue robe on, saw them and came over to keep the boys company and provide moral support.

Justin and his handsome, clingy companion were already garnering a lot of attention. Brian was standing with his arm draped possessively over Justin's shoulders, their bodies touching all along their sides and their faces turned towards each other in an inherently intimate pose. In the ultra-conservative world of St. James' Academy, this much gay PDA was unheard of. However, it was so unbelievably unexpected that no one, not even the teachers assembled to herd students around, knew what to do. The teachers just stood and stared right along with the students.

Daphne's approach was perfectly timed - the girl's cheery 'hello' interrupted a smoldering look that could have easily led to a kiss, which would have simply been too much for the narrow minds of St. James' to handle. Daph stood and chatted with the two men and her presence there alone seemed to calm most of the nervous watchers. It wasn't until the small group was almost at the head of the line before someone managed to rustle up a teacher bigoted enough to dare complain to the student and his friend.

"Excuse me, Mr. Taylor," the approaching authority figure interjected even as Justin was reaching for the gown he was being given. "I'm sorry but all family and friends are supposed to be waiting in the auditorium. They're not allowed back here with the students."

"Sorry, Mr. Dickson. . . " Justin started to respond.

"But, since I'm not family or a mere friend," Brian interrupted with his most charming fake smile, "I guess that means I can stay! You see, Dicky, my boy, I'm Justin's Fuck Buddy. Now, let me see that robe! This can't be the right size? Justin, you'll have to try this on immediately. I'll help you."

And, with that, Brian whisked Justin away towards the back where a series of canvas-sided, portable changing rooms had been set up. Brian grabbed the robe out of Justin's hands and, twirling it around on its hanger rather flamboyantly, managed to somehow hit Mr. Dickson in the eye with the bent metal. Dickson went down, crying out in pain, which drew all the other responsible adults to come running to his aid. And Brian and Justin were temporarily forgotten in the melee.

They weren't forgotten for long though. While the two other teacher chaperones were walking a blinded Mr. Dickson down to the school nurse's office, Brian was helping Justin with his robe. What part of trying on the robe required the older man to drop to his knees and Justin's pants to drop to the carpeting, wasn't immediately clear to all the students watching through the six inch gap below the changing room door. It became pretty clear very soon though.

"Oh, fuck, Brian!" Justin's moans easily came through the flimsy canvas siding of the changing room. Still, the assembled students stood and stared. Then, one pale hand grabbed at the aluminum bar at the top of the structure and the outline of the other hand braced against another canvas wall was easy to make out. The entire canvas and metal structure started to shake. "Fuck, yes! Yes! Yes! Ooooooohhhhhh, YES!"

A few seconds of quiet chuckling and hushed words followed before the dressing room door reopened and a satisfied looking Brian emerged leading a fully robed Justin behind him. Brian looked his usual unconcerned self while Justin's cheeks were burning a bright red. But neither looked in the least bit apologetic. They strolled together, hand in hand, over to where Daphne was still waiting for them with an amused grin on her face.

"I guess I was wrong," Brian admitted with a roguish smile. "The robe fits perfectly. Now, which line do we stand in next?"

After Brian 'helped' Justin try on his robe, he also 'helped' the youth adjust his mortar board hat to just the perfect angle so that Brian could conveniently kiss the luscious coral pink lips without mussing up the blond hair. He also 'helped' Justin fill out some final paperwork by letting Justin sit on his lap while he stroked the boy's thighs underneath the graduation robe. By the time they'd finished that, Justin wasn't sure he could even walk. Thankfully the heavy robe hid the evidence of what all Brian's helping had done to the horny teen.

About fifteen minutes before the ceremony was due to begin, Daphne finally convinced Brian he'd 'helped' enough. She sent him out to join Jennifer, Debbie and the other guests waiting in the auditorium. Justin had just enough time to splash some cold water on his face and will his erection down before they were all lined up again and then marched out to the stage.

The ceremony itself was about as boring as these things always were. Daphne's Valedictory speech was humorous and thankfully short. And then, came what everybody was waiting for: the Grads all marched across the stage as their names were called and received a hand shake and a diploma from the Dean.

The 'Taylor' contingent was easily the most exuberant in the whole auditorium. With proudly clapping Jennifer and Molly, a loudly whooping and whistling Debbie and a piercing catcall from Brian, they drowned out the rest of the cheering families by a huge margin. Justin glowed at the sound of the support from his family and waved his diploma at them theatrically as he returned to his seat.

Somehow, in spite of everything he'd gone through this past crazy year, Justin had made it to Graduation. It was good to have accomplished at least that much. Even if the biggest challenges in his life were still about five months ahead!

Chapter 23 - A New Plan.

The Sunday family dinner at Deb's that week ended up being turned into a graduation party for Justin and Daphne. Even Jennifer and Molly were talked into joining the regulars. Debbie was making Justin's favorite - chicken parmigiana and Vic had made a huge black forrest cake for dessert.  

Of course, Justin was late to his own party. Between Brian's 'just one more' time in the shower and the extra twenty minutes it took for them to find a shirt Brian approved of that he felt wasn't too baggy and yet still hid his bulging tummy, the couple didn't get to Debbie's until everyone else had already been there for at least a half hour. Which meant that everyone had plenty of time to talk about the missing pair.

"What do you mean, 'since Justin moved out'," Jennifer was agitatedly complaining to Debbie just as Brian finally opened the front door. "When did my son move out? And where did he move to without even telling me?"

"Hi, Mom," the errant boy himself said, waving from behind Brian's left arm. "I didn't get a chance to tell you yet, sorry. I moved back in with Brian earlier this week. Surprise!"

Since only Debbie, Vic and Daphne had heard this news already, there was a huge chaotic clamor from all the assembled hordes at this unplanned announcement. Several concerned individuals immediately converged on Justin, who tried backing away in self-preservation only to find his back literally up against a wall - namely the wall and railing separating the stairs from the main room. Brian was meanwhile driven away to the far side of the room where he couldn't get to his Sunshine to add any support. Michael had grabbed his Best Friend by the shoulders and was yelling at him over the rest of the crowd asking why he'd do something stupid like letting the twink move back into the loft, especially after all the trouble he caused the last time.

It took a very shrill blasting whistle coming from the kitchen to shut up the cacophony of voices. Once Deb had all their attention, she pulled her fingers out of her mouth and ordered everybody to, "Shut the fuck up! Now, dinner's ready and you all need to sit down so I can start serving and then Justin can explain," she added politely as she waved them all towards the table in the kitchen.

Brian shook off Michael and then shouldered his way through the throng till he could reach Justin. He led his flustered boy around to the far side of the table and they seated themselves while the rest of the crew scrambled to find their own seats. Daphne managed to score the seat on Justin's right, and with Brian on his left, he was at least insulated from the persistent do-gooders all intent on convincing him he'd made a huge mistake - again.

As Debbie seated herself at the head of the table and started passing around platters of food, Jennifer started in. "Justin, honey, why would you do something like this without at least talking to me about it first? Especially now when your whole life's about to change. I mean you're going to college in the fall and you've got your whole life ahead of you. Is this just for the summer? If so, I think you're a bit hasty. Why make this kind of move now when you'll be gone again in a few months?"

"I won't be gone again in a few months, Mom. I'm not leaving Pittsburgh. If I do pursue college, it'll be here at PIFA. But, since I haven't yet figured out how I'm going to pay for it, I don't know if I'll be going to college at all," Justin said when Jennifer stopped a moment for breath.

The uproar at this additional pronouncement was even louder than before. Everyone had a very vocal opinion on whether or not Justin should go to college and, if so, where. Of course, everyone decided to voice their opinions at the same time so you couldn't make out a single word.

"Justin!" Jennifer's panic filled voice managed to cut through all the commotion again. "What the hell are you talking about? I thought we'd resolved all of this. Your Dad agreed to pay for college if you went to Dartmouth. And I know you were accepted. That's what we all agreed on."

"I'm not going out of state, Mom. I want to stay here in Pittsburgh and, if I can figure out how, go to PIFA." Justin declared decisively, squeezing Brian's hand tightly under the table for reassurance.

Naturally, everyone in the family knew better than Justin what he should be doing with his life and they all took turns at this point explaining to him exactly what he should do. Justin served himself and sat eating his dinner passively while the group discussed him. Justin didn't seem to mind in the least the way everyone was disregarding him in all these decisions. In the end, it was clearly decided that Justin owed it to himself to get a college education and if the only way to do that was to go to Dartmouth, so Craig Taylor would pay, then that's what he was going to have to do. Maybe he could talk his dad into letting him minor in Art and then go on to art school later. No one wanted him to give up on his art, but they pretty much all agreed he could afford to take the time out to get a four year degree on daddy's penny first.

The only two people who didn't feel it necessary to comment on how to arrange Justin's future were the two who already knew why he'd made the decision he had - Brian and Daphne. They sat flanking the object of these discussions, eating and just as passively disregarding everything being said. The meal was almost over before everything had been decided. Justin was going to Dartmouth in the fall. He could stay with Brian in the meantime, if he wanted - although Jennifer didn't think this was a good idea. Justin could go on to Art School when he graduated and, assuming Brian was still around, they could resume their 'whatever' when Justin came back in four years. It was the perfect, most logical, solution to everything.

Finally, as dessert was being handed around, someone finally realized that Justin hadn't commented much about The Big Plan.

"Justin, sweetheart? How does all this sound to you?" Jennifer asked.

"Huh?" Justin looked up when he heard someone addressing him.

"Justin, you haven't said anything about all this . . ." Jennifer wasn't reassured when she saw the stubborn set look on her son's face.

"I already told you I'm not going out of state for college. I'm not leaving Pittsburgh. I've already moved into the loft with Brian. I'm legally an adult and, as of yesterday, I've got my high school diploma. I'm perfectly capable and legally entitled to make my own decisions and I've already decided. So," Justin looked over at the brunet man sitting next to him who was beaming with pride at his decisive twink, "are you ready to go Brian?"

"Coming, Dear!" Brian said in falsetto, sliding his chair back as he got up from the table and followed the blond out of the kitchen, while the rest of the table sat there in stunned silence.

Once the pair were on the front porch and the door had been closed behind them, a renewed uproar broke out again inside. You could hear yelling and complaints from the family even through the walls. The two men looked at each other, smiled and then fell together laughing so hard they were soon breathless.

"Do you know how hot you look when you're all decisive and stubborn like that, Justin?" Brian asked when their laughter had subsided.

"As hot as you saying 'Coming, Dear'?" Justin quipped back, causing a renewed outbreak of chuckles.

"Let's go home, then, and be all hot together," Brian suggested with a practiced leer that elicited another giggle from the blond.

"That sounds fantastic!" Justin agreed, liking the way Brian had said the word 'home'.

Two hours later at the loft, after two - or was that three - rounds of passionate fucking, Brian and Justin were curled up together on Brian's bed. They were sated and content. It felt good to just lie there together with nowhere to go and no one else around to nag at them about how they were running their lives. Even Brian felt comfortable, which was odd in itself.

"Justin?" Brian eventually said, regretfully breaking the cozy silence.

"Yeah?"

"I do want you to go to college, Justin. You're too fucking smart not to," Brian admitted in a hushed voice as he ran his fingers lightly up and down the blond's pale chest.

"I will. Someday," Justin confirmed as he snuggled in closer to his lover's body.

"Not someday. Now. Before it's too late. Before you get distracted or bogged down by life," Brian insisted.

"Brian . . . I'm not going away to college. Not this fall. And you KNOW why." Justin turned his body slightly so he could look into Brian's eyes while they spoke.

"So, then go to PIFA."

"I will, if I can figure out how, Brian."

"I'll pay for you . . ." Brian's offer was said so softly that Justin wasn't sure at first that he'd heard correctly but there was plenty of conviction showing in the expressive hazel eyes to assure the youth he'd heard right.

"Brian, I can't just take your money. Besides, you're going to need it soon for junior here," Justin smiled at his lover and patted the little bump of belly with affection.

"So? We can work out some kind of deal. You can pay me back . . . Maybe with child care hours?" Brian proposed shyly. "You were right that I won't be able to work as much with a newborn around, but if you took a light class load, you could watch the baby for me and save me a mint in day care fees. We could still get a part-time sitter for when you were in school . . ."

"But, Brian, I want to contribute towards taking care of the baby and that means getting a real job . . ."

"You would be contributing, Sunshine. You'd be taking care of our son or daughter. That's what parents do. Or so I've been told . . . I didn't have very good positive role models in that area when I was a kid," Brian confessed, revealing a little bit of his insecurities about becoming a parent. "But I'm sure you'll be a great Dad. And you can maybe . . . teach me how, too?"

"You don't need any teacher. I've seen you with Gus. You're a great father, Brian."

"Yeah, but that's only when I have the occasional random cameo appearance. I've never had to fill the starring role full-time . . . What if I can't do it?"

"Of course you can, Brian," Justin said, running his fingers through the baby-soft auburn hair to comfort the jitters away. Justin could see, though, that Brian was still tense and unsure of himself no matter what Justin said to reassure him. "Okay. I accept. It's a deal. If you pay for me to attend PIFA, I'll take care of our baby."

"Good!" Brian seemed happy that he'd talked Justin into his 'schooling in exchange for child care' proposal.

"You do know, that I would have done that anyways, though. Don't you, Brian?" Justin whispered into the skin of the man's long, slender neck as he kissed his way upwards.

"Maybe," Brian admitted sheepishly, tilting his head back to give Justin better kissing access. "But now we've got a verbal contract and I know you won't back out."

"You are a silly, silly man, Brian Kinney," Justin whispered again as he continued his kissing campaign. "But I still love you . . ."

Brian didn't reply. He was enjoying the kissing too much to care who'd gotten the better end of the deal. Although he was pretty sure that it had been him, regardless of what Justin thought.

################BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB###############

Chapter 24 - Making Changes.

They'd turned off their phones as soon as they left Debbie's last night and refused to answer the loft phone, screening all messages using the answering machine instead. Which meant that nobody had managed to further berate Justin for his incorrect decisions all night. Brian had to get up and leave for work at his usual time, but Justin, who was free from school until September, was still asleep when Michael let the small intervention group into the loft about 10:00 am the next morning. They were there to talk some 'sense' into the wayward boy who just didn't understand everything he was throwing away for the pipe dream of being with an undeserving Brian Kinney.

Brian was sitting at his desk finalizing a presentation he'd be giving to a new client that afternoon when he got a text message from Justin saying only 'Listen'. His phone rang a minute later and as soon as he answered he heard Michael, Debbie and Lindsey, all talking at the same time, each trying to convince Justin that Brian was unworthy of any sacrifices he might make on the man's behalf. Brian listened for about a half a minute, then hung up, disgusted by the things his loving family was saying about him. 'I've got this' Brian texted back to the beleaguered boy.

"Cynthia" Brian yelled into the intercom, summoning his assistant. She appeared in his office within seconds, ready to take whatever action he needed - he really adored Cynthia!

"Get a locksmith over to my loft immediately. Make sure they have a couple of big, burley guys on the job. I want everyone except Justin Taylor thrown out of the loft and the locks changed right away. If the locksmith has any problems, they can call the cops. I'm sick of Michael letting himself into my loft without permission. Got it?"

"Justin Taylor?" Cynthia had to ask - she'd gotten a couple of calls from this mystery man lately and her boss always took the call no matter what - it had her curious.

"That's what I said. Justin Taylor. Blond. Eighteen. Adorable bubble butt. And, the only person I want to find in my loft when I get home tonight." Brian, sort of, explained.

It was enough for Cynthia, who trotted off to get someone on the job ASAP.

Meanwhile, Justin was getting pretty angry sitting there listening to all the reasons why he couldn't or shouldn't have any confidence in Brian Kinney. He heard all the stories - some for the second or third time - about how Brian couldn't be relied on, how Brian didn't do relationships and would just leave him by the wayside someday, how Brian was wrong for him, didn't do dates, was only interested in getting his own dick sucked and couldn't be trusted. The stories were always biased and mean and tailored to show the worst of the man while leaving out any redeeming actions he might have taken at another time or in different circumstances. Justin was getting pissed off at these 'friends' of Brian's and was more than ready for them to be gone.

When the intercom buzzer rang, Justin happily jumped up to answer it, if only for the distraction. "Justin Taylor?" The intercom voice asked.

"Yes, that's me," Justin answered, a little confused.

"Brian Kinney sent us to deal with a pest control problem you have,"

Justin had no idea what Brian had sent these guys for, but he thought it might be good so he quickly buzzed them up and waited with the loft door open. His intervention group was still babbling at him from behind, but Justin had tuned them out. Moments later, the elevator doors opened and two of the biggest men he'd ever seen stepped up to greet him.

"You Justin Taylor?" Hulk #1 asked as Justin tilted his head back to look up at the face towering about two feet above him.

"Yes. . . " was all he could manage to say.

"Course he's Taylor, you dolt," exclaimed Hulk #2, punching his buddy in the shoulder to emphasize his point. "Blond. Eighteen. Adorable bubble butt. That's what the lady said. And she was definitely right," #2 said with a wink in Justin's direction. "Let's get going!"

Justin simply stood there watching while the Hulk Brothers pushed past him into the loft. Their entrance finally stopped the intervention tirade inside. When Justin peeked at the scene, he found Debbie, Michael and Lindsey all standing in a semi-circle looking up into the towering Hulks' large faces.

"Ladies. Sir," intoned Hulk #1. "I have to ask you to leave immediately."

"You can't throw us out," Michael squeaked like a mouse. "This is my friend Brian's loft. I have every right to be here and so do my friends."

"No, you don't," Hulk #2 said in a much less congenial voice than his partner. "Brian Kinney's the man who sent us. He said to throw all of you out and if you gave us trouble to call the police. So, you nice folks gonna go quiet, like, or do we need ta get insistent about it." Hulk #2 ended his little speech with a gargantuan grin showing off his three gold teeth to the peons at his feet.

The peons opted to obey. They grumbled about Brian's rudeness while they gathered their stuff and then shuffled towards the door. "Come on, Sunshine. You can come back to my place and we'll get your stuff later when Mr. High and Mighty is home," Debbie advised sympathetically as she patted Justin on the shoulder.

"Nope," Hulk #1 told her, removing her tiny hand from Justin's shoulder with his hamhock sized fist. "The cute little blond stays. Everybody else goes. That's what Kinney wants."

"What?" Michael started to protest that the twink wasn't being thrown out just like the rest of them.

Hulk #2 stepped up and positioned his imposing giant-sized body between Justin and Michael. He smiled that gold-toothed grin down on the tiny, sputtering brunet and didn't say a word. Michael's spluttering puttered out and he swallowed hard. Then, with a nasty scowl directed at Justin, who was peeking out around #2's hulkiness, Michael finally turned and walked out of the loft with Debbie and Lindsey following quietly.

Hulk #1 followed the three down the stairs, ostensibly to make sure they actually left the building. Hulk #2 went into the hallway and returned quickly with two large tool boxes that had apparently been stashed out of sight until the Hulk Brothers dealt with the pests. Then, without saying anything further, #2 took out his tools and started working on the door lock.

It only took the guys about fifteen minutes to change out the lock on the door. Then, Hulk #2 also installed a deadbolt lock and a nice strong security chain - he told Justin that Kinney clearly wanted him to be safe when he wasn't home, which made the youth smile one of his extra big Sunshine smiles. Hulk #1 was busy meanwhile rekeying the front door and distributing the new keys to the other tenants. Justin promised to give out keys to any of the tenants who weren't home so all the extras were left with him. And, in just a little over a half hour, the Hulk Brothers were done. They both patted the cute little blond on his head like a good little puppy as they said goodbye and let themselves out.

Justin's phone rang about a minute later. "Everything taken care of?" Brian's soothing voice asked as soon as he'd answered.

"Yeah. Thanks Brian."

"No problem. Mikey had used that key of his one time too often. It was past time to do something about it," Brian said sadly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great. I actually have a key to the loft I didn't have to steal!" Justin teased.

"Later, Twat!"

"Later!"

Since Justin had to wait around and make sure the other tenants got their front door keys, he didn't get much done the rest of that day. He did call his mother back, listened to her harangue for a while and then calmly explained that Brian had offered last night to pay for him to attend PIFA. That surprising news quieted Mother Taylor down pretty quickly. Justin didn't explain the nature of the deal they'd worked out, he just told his mother that they'd worked out terms for how he would pay Brian back. He also informed her that he was staying with Brian while he went to school and she should stop complaining or worrying because it wasn't going to do any good.

Once his mother had been taken care of, Justin settled into the couch with his sketchbook and started on a drawing of the Hulk Brothers confronting Mikey Mouse. That kept him amused until late afternoon when the other tenants began to arrive home. He'd taped a note to the front door advising everyone to buzz him to get in and then to come up to the fourth floor for their new keys. Justin had already met most of the neighbors, unlike Brian who'd lived there for years and never bothered to learn a single one of the other tenants' names.

About 4:30, Justin's visit with the nice lesbian couple that lived in 2B was interrupted by someone else ringing from the front door. Justin simply buzzed whoever it was up without asking, assuming it was just another tenant. He was surprised when an elegant blonde woman he didn't know appeared at the open loft door with a sheaf of papers in her hand.

"You must be Justin," the blonde announced as she strutted into the loft as if she belonged. "I'm Cynthia, Mr. Kinney's assistant. Brian's still in a meeting with a client, but he wanted to make sure that these got signed today, so I figured I'd just run them over here myself. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?" Cynthia settled herself at the dining room table and started to organize her paperwork.

The neighbors excused themselves quickly at that, and Justin showed them out then took a seat at the table next to the officious woman.

"How did you know who I am?" Justin asked, curious about the casual greeting he'd received earlier.

"Well, first of all, you look exactly like Brian described you right down to the 'adorable bubble butt'," Cynthia explained with a teasing little smile. "And secondly, the locksmiths I hired this morning were ordered to throw everyone other than Justin Taylor out of the place before changing the locks, because Brian said - and I quote -  'He's the only person I want to find in my loft when I get home tonight.' So, since you're still here, you must be the Justin Taylor I'm looking for."

Justin was pleasantly embarrassed at the way Brian had described him to his assistant and he blushed a bit. Cynthia thought he was too adorable for words and silently vowed to do everything in her power to help Brian keep this young man around for a long, long time. Cynthia was sure that this sweet, blushing young blond was exactly what her boss had needed in his life for some time now. And one of the first steps in that direction was the documents she had sitting on the table in front of her.

"So, what is all this?" Justin asked, waving at the papers.

"First, this is a Tenancy Agreement," Cynthia shoved one sizable pile of papers at Justin and handed him a pen. "This makes you a legal resident of the loft - in essence it says you're renting space from Brian, who's the legal owner - which means you have the right to throw unwanted visitors, like those from this morning, out of the apartment and no one has the right to keep you out unless your lease is broken. Sign here, initial in the space here at the bottom of each page, and then sign here and here. I'll notarize that last signature for you. Oh, and you owe Brian one dollar a year for the lease."

"Pretty steep rent, don't you think," Justin joked as he signed and initialed where directed.

"Second," Cynthia straightened out all the papers from the first pile and moved on. "Brian had a new Durable Power of Attorney drawn up naming you as his Attorney in Fact and/or Legal Guardian if he were to become incapacitated due to injury or sickness. This gives you the right to make medical decisions for him when he can't. You need to sign here on the last page. I've also attached a copy of his Advanced Directive detailing Brian's wishes in various medical situations, but you will be responsible as the Attorney in Fact for making sure these directives are followed."

"Wow, I . . . I wasn't expecting anything like this . . ." Justin hesitated to sign the very serious and important papers. "We didn't discuss this at all . . ."

"Justin," Cynthia reached out and grabbed the overwhelmed youth's hand. "I know this seems like a big step for you. It's a big step for Brian, too. This isn't something he'd do on just a whim. And Brian hasn't told me a lot about your relationship, but I do know that doing all this is Brian's way of telling you that he cares about you and, maybe even more importantly, he trusts you. There aren't very many people Brian trusts. That makes you a very remarkable person, Justin Taylor. And if Brian thinks you can handle this, then I know you can, too."

Justin took a deep breath, smiled and nodded, then picked up the pen and signed where Cynthia directed.

"Okay!" Cynthia beamed as she started to pack up all her work. "I'll scan everything and email you PDF's of the fully executed documents for your records. Oh, and here," she pushed one last pile of papers towards Justin. "I took the liberty of having the lawyer draft a Durable Power of Attorney for you too. Look it over and mark any changes you'd like. When you're done, just send it back to me with Brian and I'll get the final draft ready for you to sign." Cynthia smiled warmly at the stunned but grateful young man as she stood up and made her way towards the door. "It was truly nice to meet you, Justin. Feel free to call me if you need ANYTHING."

Justin saw Cynthia out, pulled the loft door closed and then collapsed back against the door, sliding slowly into a crouch on the floor while he tried to process everything that had just happened.

Back at Ryder's, Cynthia strode into Brian's office and dropped a large stack of documents on the center of the glass-topped desk. "Okay, here you go, Boss. Those are all your originals. I've scanned them and already sent copies to you and Mr. Taylor. You're good to go. And may I add that Mr. Taylor seemed like an incredibly sweet and completely adorable young man," the outspoken assistant asserted her opinion.

"Yes, you may. And he is," Brian replied with a hint of a smile. Then he handed her a separate stack of documents and presentation boards and went back into full business-mode, bringing Cynthia up to date on the new client he'd just signed while she was out. That kept them busy for the rest of the day.

Last thing, as Brian was gathering work together that he needed to take home, he stopped Cynthia and advised her of one last task. "Tomorrow morning, would you contact the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts and have them send Justin's fall tuition statement to me?"

"Of course, Boss," Cynthia replied without further comment, although she was already reeling inside at all the revelations she'd uncovered today about her very private Boss' not-so-private-anymore-life.

Chapter 25 - A Pretty Amusing Day.

Brian and Justin slept in a little late the next morning. Brian felt justified in taking a little time off after signing that new, multi-million dollar account yesterday. And, by the time Justin got through saying thank you to his man for sending the Hulking Locksmiths yesterday as well as for setting him up with the lease agreement and DPOA's, it was rather late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Either way, the couple extra hours of sleep they got was well earned and needed.

They were just starting to get moving around 9:30 when the downstairs door bell rang. Justin hollered from the toilet that it might be the last neighbor who hadn't picked up his key yet and asked Brian to get the door. Brian finished starting the coffee before he made it to the intercom, and the bell rang a second time.

"Aha, Mr. I-got-lucky-last-night-and-never-made-it-home in 3C is finally here for his key, I presume!" Brian called into the intercom and buzzed open the downstairs door in anticipation without waiting for a reply.

"Hurry up in there, Sunshine," Brian yelled at the dawdler in the bathroom as he grabbed a pair of jeans from the pile of discarded clothing in the living room still there from last night. "I've got this image in my head of you wearing only a Chef's apron and bent over the kitchen island. I'm already as horny as a fucking bull. As soon as I get rid of 3C I expect you out here, Pretty Boy, on display and ready to be taken!"

There was a knock on the door and, before Brian had finished his directions to Justin, he'd already started pulling open the loft door. By the time the door was only cracked open a few inches, though, he could clearly see that his morning visitor was NOT Mr. 3C. Unless, that is, their neighbor had morphed into a fifty year old woman that looked a lot like Joan Kinney.

"Mom?" Brian balked at the sight and debated quickly whether it was advisable to simply slam the door closed and run for it.

"Hello, Brian. Long time, no see! I hadn't heard from you since your father's funeral and so I just thought I should . . ." Joan hesitated as her son hadn't opened the door any further.

Brian cringed against the back of the door, but just couldn't slam the door in his Mother's face no matter how much he wanted to. "So, you thought you'd just show up here unannounced and start my day off as awkwardly as you possibly could." Brian replied as he pulled the door the rest of the way open and stepped back to let his mother enter.

Joan Kinney ignored the disrespectful quip and strode into the loft bearing baked goods as a token peace offering. "I made a coffee cake. If you haven't had breakfast yet, I thought we could have a bite and catch up a little." She proceeded to place the coffee cake on the kitchen counter while Brian followed behind her, trying to do up the buttons on his jeans and mask his obvious hard on as he went.

"I'm a little busy, Mom," Brian said trying to stay between her and the rest of the apartment before she went in and made herself completely at home. "I was just about to go get ready and head out to work. . ."

"Oh, I'm sure, now that you're a big time Executive and all, you can spare a couple minutes to have breakfast with your mother."

"Mom, I really don't have time . . ." Brian started to explain, grabbing Joan's elbow to try and gently guide her back to the door as he spoke.

That's when the sound of the water turning off and the shower door clicking open cut short his explanation.

"Oh, my," Joan looked around nosily trying to get a glimpse of whoever was there. "I had no idea you'd have company over this early in the morning . . ."

"Okay, Brian," Justin shouted as he trotted around the end of the bed and hopped down the stairs wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips. "I'm ready for my apron . . . " The young man stopped dead as soon as he saw the elderly woman standing next to Brian with the astonished and offended look on her face.

Brian gave up and slouched down onto one of the bar stools behind the kitchen island. "Justin, this is my mother, Joan. Mom, this is Justin," he politely introduced the two, watching as reality slowly crashed over Joan Kinney's little pretend world.

"Hi?" Justin said and waved at the appalled woman as he grasped his slipping towel with his other hand to ensure it didn't fall right at that most inopportune moment.

"Oh my god! Brian! How could you," Joan cried, covering her mouth with her hand at the horror of it all as she grabbed for her purse and rushed towards the door.

"How could I what . . .? Introduce you to my Partner? I figured it was only polite since he's living here now and if you plan on making more of these unscheduled early morning appearances you're bound to run into each other again." Brian couldn't help rubbing it in a little as Joan frantically pressed the call button for the elevator.

Joan kept her back turned towards her son and pretended he wasn't there. Maybe the old Brian Kinney might have regretted the way he'd handled things, tried to talk to the woman or felt sad at this additional rejection on top of all the others he'd suffered from his mother over the years. But, THIS Brian Kinney was simply angry.

This woman was supposed to be his mother. Wasn't she supposed to love him unconditionally? To at least try to understand him? Try to make some effort, no matter how small, to support her son and show she cared about him? All Brian could think about right then was how he was soon going to be a parent himself and that he would never - NEVER - treat his child like this woman had treated him. He wasn't sad. He was irate! How dare Joan be such a horrible, crappy, insensitive, uncaring bitch instead of the kind of mother every child had a right to expect.

Brian snapped. "Thanks for visiting, Saint Joan. I shouldn't have expected you to be supportive of me. You never have been before, fuck, why would you start now? Hmm? You know, a feral dog would have made a better mother than you, you fucking bitch! And don't bother coming back to visit! I don't want you near me or my family ever again!"

Brian slammed the door shut and leaned his head against the cool metal as he breathed heavily, trying to control his anger. He almost jumped out of his skin when something lightly touched his back. He'd forgotten Justin was still there. It did help though to have Justin there, lightly stroking his back, the warm touch of his skin and his steady calming presence nearby. The fruity scent of his clean, freshly shampooed hair enveloped them both and Brian's mood almost instantly picked right up.

"Forget it," Justin whispered with a kiss against Brian's shoulder. "It doesn't mean anything, Brian. You won't be like that. That's not you."

Justin stepped away, thinking he'd best give Brian a minute or two to pull himself together. But Brian didn't need a minute. He caught hold of Justin's hand before he got more than a step or two and pulled the smaller body back against his own, hard. "No. I WON'T be like that, Justin. I promise," Brian assured and sealed the vow with a deep, passion-filled kiss that Justin felt all the way down to his toes.

When Brian finally broke the kiss, Justin was panting and had completely forgotten what he'd been doing beforehand. Brian looked down at the slightly confused expression on the adorable little blond and broke out laughing. Justin really was the best distraction. And, speaking of distractions . . .

"Oh, Sunshine," Brian regained his boy's attention as he moved back into the kitchen and pulled something out of a drawer. "I think you're overdressed." Brian flicked out the item of fabric he'd retrieved from the cupboard and revealed a long, pristine white, well-starched chef's apron, which he tossed at the now laughing blond.

Justin immediately dropped his towel and leapt towards Brian, obediently slipping the apron over his head and tying the waist strap loosely around his hips. Without any need of further direction, the eager little sous-chef draped himself over the kitchen island, with his perfect heart-shaped ass well displayed right alongside the cooktop. Brian reached out and stroked the juicy looking tenderloin and licked his lips. Then, he pulled open another drawer and grabbed a big metal spatula slotted down its length with a series of oblong holes.

"I'd better tenderize this first," Brian declared, slapping the spatula once across the porcelain skin of that beautiful lily-white ass.

Justin grunted a little and then gripped onto the far edge of the counter more firmly. The spatula left a lovely impression of even paler skin decorated with rounded red dots where the holes had been. The sight was very, very distracting, indeed. Brian rubbed his hand over the pattern and reveled in the heat from the little red dots against his palm.

Pretty much instantly, Joan's disastrous little visit was forgotten. All Brian could concentrate on at that moment was the hot, sweet ass lying there ready for him. That and the steady warm pulsing happiness that seeped up from within him as he touched and kissed and looked on the pretty little sous-chef boy who was so decadently serving himself up. Brian was even too distracted to worry about whether or not that nice warm happy feeling might be love.

When Brian did roll into work a little after 11:00 am, Cynthia didn't think it was wise to comment on the silly, happy grin Mr. Kinney was sporting as he breezed past her desk with an uncharacteristic little wave hello. Even as the day progressed and became more hectic, Brian remained mellow and affable. Cynthia almost didn't want to give him the stack of messages she'd accumulated by late afternoon, wary of ending the Boss' idyllic mood. But, when he called her in and asked for the messages outright, she no longer had a choice. She dutifully relayed the concerns and complaints from staff and clients, saving the one she thought would most annoy Brian until last.

"Is that all," Brian asked agreeably, having given directions on how to deal with each of the previous calls.

"Just one more," Cynthia said, laying the pink phone message slip on the top of his desk.

Brian picked up the message which noted at the top it was 'From: Michael'. "Says his key won't work. Wants you to call him ASAP!" Brian read the message aloud and then erupted with laughter as he balled up the slip and tossed it into the garbage.

"Thanks, Cyn," Brian commented as he wiped a bit of laughter induced moisture from one eye. "I really needed a laugh. Oh, and, DON'T bother putting through any of Michael's calls for at least the rest of the week."

Unfortunately for Justin, he didn't have an ultra-efficient secretary to help him deal with the Novotny clan. Since he had a shift at the Diner that afternoon, Justin could only avoid them for so long. Deb had left for the day before he arrived, but the youth came up against Michael's wrath before he'd even been there a full hour.

"Okay, Boy Wonder, what did you do to Brian's loft?" Michael demanded as he stomped into the Diner, gunning for a certain blond boy.

"I didn't do anything to OUR loft, Michael," Justin responded, trying to remain unruffled.

"It's BRIAN'S loft and you must have done something. My key doesn't work anymore!"

"Brian and I had the locks changed yesterday, Michael," Justin advised, still keeping his tone as placid as possible.

"That's bullshit, Justin! Why would Brian change the locks? I've always had a key to his place for emergencies," Michael insisted.

"It's OUR place now, Michael. I'm living there too, remember," Justin reiterated. "And, I don't know why Brian would continue to trust you with the keys when you think of the sheer number of times you've come into the loft without permission in just the last several weeks. I know I wouldn't have put up with it as long as Brian did. I guess yesterday's little surprise visit was just one time too many."

"Fuck you, Justin! You know that Ma and Lindz and I were only there for your own good. We're trying to stop you from making a huge mistake. You can't just give up college in the hopes that Brian will take you in, completely change his whole life for you and you'll live happily ever after. That's NOT Brian!"

"THAT is total bullshit, Michael! You don't know Brian half as well as you think you do and you know NOTHING about me," Justin hissed, the Killer Bunny within making a brief reappearance.

Only, Michael wasn't exactly a big bulldog. It looked more like a mad Killer Bunny taking on a hyperactive and overly cheerful chattering chipmunk. In other words, Michael was absolutely no match for an angry Justin and the older man backed down at once.

"Now, Michael, I've got work to do. So, if you're staying, shut up, sit down and order something or get the hell out. But, if you don't leave me alone, I'll have Kiki throw your ass out," Justin demanded, picked up his bus bin and whirled around to stomp off towards the kitchen.

Kiki herself was standing a few yards away during the whole ruckus. After Justin marched off, she merely pointed at Michael and then at an empty booth seat. He wanted to stand there and at least fume a little, quietly perhaps, but at least venting his anger visually. However, one look down at Kiki's size thirteen stiletto-heeled pumps, and Michael wisely decided he'd rather sit than feel those pointy heels on his backside. Kiki could take Michael out any day, easily, probably without even chipping a nail. It wasn't worth the risk.

It took the gay grapevine almost a full hour before the tale of the Taylor-Novotny Diner Blowout reached Brian's ears. Brian was just finishing up the electronic payment of Justin's first semester tuition payment for PIFA, when he got a call from an acquaintance who knew someone, who had been on the phone with someone else at the Diner during the big show. Brian got his second big laugh of the day at the description of Michael's ungracious tongue lashing from the normally sweet little Justin Bunny and then Michael's further retreat at the threat of Kiki's sparkly red pumps buried in his ass.

Despite how the morning had started, Brian figured it was turning into a pretty amusing day.

Chapter 26 - The Noisy, Hairy and Fat Chapter.

Justin had only been officially living at the loft for a little over two weeks when he first thought about killing Brian.

Of course he wasn't serious about the killing part. He had only briefly contemplated suffocation of his bed partner. He would never really act on it. Of course not! He loved Brian and there was no way he'd ever do something to hurt him. Right? If he'd briefly held a pillow about six inches above the man's face for a minute or so, it didn't mean he'd ever act on the impulse. No. Definitely not.

But . . . Well, if Justin didn't get some sleep soon, he might snap and then he couldn't be held accountable if he accidentally let the pillow drop down over Brian's head in the middle of the night and then leaned into it for a little while. Could he? Justin was sure that any jury, once they'd heard the extenuating circumstances would let him off. No one could take this kind of torture on a nightly basis and remain sane. NO ONE!

See, Brian had started to snore.

Not just any normal snoring, mind you, but full-out, rattle the roof timbers, it sounds like WWIII with fighter jets strafing the inside of the loft, snoring. It was the loudest and most irritating noise Justin had ever heard in his life. Each wheezing rattle echoed off the high, bare rafters of the loft and bounced right back, with perfect acoustical aim, directly at Justin's side of the bed. It was so loud that he was amazed anyone in the building could sleep through the racket. Actually, it was probably loud enough to keep the entire block awake. At least it felt that way to an exhausted Justin.

Yes, it was true that Brian had always wheezed a little at night. But, that hadn't been annoying - Justin had always thought it was kind of cute. Like a big tiger purring away in the bed next to him. That little whiffle could not be compared in any meaningful way to this . . . Noise.

It had all started about a week after the official announcement of their new living arrangements at Deb's. One night, everything was just peachy - they'd made love, cuddled up together after (Brian always refused to admit to the post-coital cuddling, but did it nonetheless) and both fallen into a blissful, entwined sleep. The next night, the buzzing din had started. About halfway through the night, Justin had been in the middle of a dream about being lost at a construction site and being chased by huge rumbling bulldozers, when an extra-loud bulldozer roar shook him from his dream into an almost-as-scary reality.

Brian was lying there next to him in bed, stretched out on his back in his usual sleeping position. But, instead of Brian's beautiful handsome, chiseled features, Justin saw a gaping chasm. Brian's mouth was yawning, wide-opened, and a horrible racket was coming out of the depths of the maw. It was a rattling, repetitive buzzing that kept going on and on and on.

That first night, Justin didn't know what to do. Brian needed his sleep. He was pregnant with Justin's baby and he needed his rest so that both Brian and the baby would be healthy and happy. Justin thought that this night was just an aberration. He could put up with it for one night and he wouldn't even say anything to Brian about it the next day. He'd do anything for Brian. Besides, it couldn't last all night. Could it?

By 4:00 am he realized that, yes, it could last all night. Justin gave up and went out to the couch, huddled in a blanket trying to get a bit of sleep on the uncomfortable sofa. But, he kept his promise to himself and didn't say a word the next day when Brian asked why Justin seemed so tired.

By the third night Justin had decided to fuck being nice or considerate of Brian's needs. After the third non-stop hour of snoring, he shook the sleeping behemoth awake and ordered him to roll over onto his side. Brian half woke, confused by Justin's babbling, but finally understood that he needed to roll over. Which helped for about twenty minutes until Brian rolled back over and the cacophony began anew.

By the fifth night, Justin was sure that not only was the snoring increasing in volume but it was also becoming more annoying due to it's incessant changes in tempo, speed and cadence. It was one thing to listen to a steady, repetitive rumbling that - maybe - you could eventually convince your brain to view as background noise. It was altogether different to try to ignore this halting, discordant, atonal gasping and huffing.

Justin was reminded of a story he'd read somewhere describing the worst snoring he'd ever imagined. Somehow, a quote from that story was the only clear thought his sleep deprived brain could focus on. The insightful passage kept repeating in his mind:

"The worst was when he sucked in air like wind at the mouth of a cavern, then held it with a wheezy creak for one second, then two, then maybe three seconds. She was always suspended there with it, her own breath trapped in her throat until his was expended in a sudden clattering like hail on a tin roof." ***

Justin could now empathize with the woman in that story. He wondered if she ever did take the iron skillet and bash in her husband's brains with it like she'd contemplated in the story. Which was when Justin started imagining his own ways to make Brian's snoring stop.

The next morning he decided that enough was enough and something had to be done before . . . Well, before his midnight fantasies became far too real. Justin crawled out of bed as soon as it was light and went to the computer to research the problem. There was an enormous amount of information on snoring on the Internet. None of which seemed all that helpful. But Justin kept digging through all the bogus sounding folk remedies and the hokey-looking 'As-seen-on-TV' ads, until he got to some actual medical sites that had promise.

In the end, it seemed there were three general ways to treat snoring. First, there was surgery - Justin didn't think Brian would even contemplate that option. Second, there was medication - everything from serious sedative drugs to make the individual sleep more deeply to over the counter decongestants. These sounded more along the line with what Brian would think of as 'treatment'. But, the problem with these options was that most of the drugs mentioned were not recommended during a pregnancy.

Which left only the so-called 'natural' methods of treatment. Only, how was Justin supposed to get Brian Kinney to change his diet, use saline nose drops before bed and sleep with a little adhesive strip affixed to his nose every night? In his sleepless and depressed state, it seemed like an impossible feat.

When the alarm clock went off and Brian popped right out of bed all happy and well-rested, though, Justin's resolve redoubled. Brian came out of the bedroom, and almost skipped up to give Justin a good morning kiss. Justin stood at the kitchen counter glowering at the looming bundle of unwarranted cheerfulness. He shoved Brian down onto a barstool, plunked a mug of the secretly decaf coffee on the counter and gave Brian a look that choked off all the gleeful morning greetings that were threatening to bubble up into Justin's sulk.

"You snore. It's bad. You're going to do this," Justin ordered and handed Brian printouts about the saline drops and breathe-right strips. When Brian looked like he was about to protest, Justin stopped him with a snarl. "You will not be getting into this ass again until I get at least one full-night's sleep. You will do as I say, Brian. I'm not fucking around here. Now, call Debbie and tell her I won't make it to the Diner today. I'm going back to bed and nobody better wake me up for the next ten hours if they value their lives."

Brian sat there drinking his coffee and watched Justin retreat to the bedroom without commenting. Brian did NOT believe for a minute that he snored. If he did, why was this the first time anyone had ever commented on it? Granted, he slept with a lot of men, but he hardly ever really 'slept' with them. Usually, the only times he let a trick sleepover were when he'd passed out too drunk or stoned to care where he was or who was there with him. But just sleeping, sleeping? Brian had to admit that he hadn't slept through the night without drug or alcohol inducement with anyone - except Justin. So, maybe Justin was the only one who'd noticed?

Justin had been really tired looking lately and not his usual cheerful self. He'd said he hadn't been sleeping well the past couple of nights. Maybe Brian WAS keeping the boy awake? He'd never thought of Justin as being a light sleeper, either. So, if Brian was snoring, it would have to be pretty bad to keep sleeping beauty awake. It was possible. Maybe.

Brian looked at the printouts Justin had shoved at him. The saline nose drops didn't sound too bad - hell, he'd been putting all sorts of shit up his nose for years, how bad could this shit be. He didn't like the idea of the little adhesive strip things, though. He'd look like a dork wearing those to bed. Wanky little strips of tape on your nose were really NOT conducive to hot spontaneous sex. Of course, if Justin was serious about no access to his ass until he got some sleep, it wouldn't matter if he wanted hot spontaneous sex since he'd be getting no sex at all. At least not here.

There were always other places Brian could go for a blowjob or a quick fuck - the Baths, Babylon, Woody's or anywhere, really. It's not like Justin's threat really meant anything. But, it had been . . . convenient to have Justin around. It did solve the problem of Brian's perpetual horniness. And, there was no arguing that Justin's ass was by far the best, most satisfying ass he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing. So, yeah, he could always find ass but, no ass as great as Justin's.

Maybe it was worth it to just humor the kid. What could it hurt? Brian decided to call Chiefy this morning to get her okay and see if the 'expert' had any better advice.

Brian tip toed into his bedroom to finish getting ready for work. The Blond Beauty was already sound asleep. He looked so sweet and innocent like that. Brian didn't care that he'd let the lesbionic adjectives escape his psyche - they were true. Yeah, it was definitely worth it to get Justin back on his good side. Definitely!

That night, Brian came home with a tiny silver foil gift bag which he placed next to Justin's sketch book on the coffee table. It looked like Justin had rolled out of bed only a few minutes before Brian got home. He was still tired looking but didn't seem quite as nasty tempered as he had been that morning. Justin yawned and stretched and then reached over to pick up the itty-bitty bag.

Justin pulled the items out of the gift bag one at a time. First came a white plastic bottle - the label said it was saline nasal spray. The corners of the plump coral pink lips began to curl upward, just the tiniest bit, at this first treasure. Next, he pulled out a small box of breathe-right strips. The smile on the pretty pink lips unfolded a bit more. Finally, Justin reached in and extracted the final part of the gift - a package of moldable foam ear plugs. This final item clinched it, turning the threat of a smile into the real thing.

#######BBBBB#########

Brian had been standing naked in front of the mirror for several minutes already. He couldn't decide if he was disgusted by the growing distension of his belly or pleased by it. He kept running his hands over the little bulge, as if trying to make sure it was real. Fuck, it was starting to get noticeable. When he looked at his body from the side you could really see the protruding bulge. Brian was not looking forward to this part - the getting fat part - of the pregnancy, at all.

The rest of his body still looked the same though. He admired his long firm well-muscled legs, his nice, still-flat ass, his sculpted back muscles . . .

Wait. What was that on his back? He surveyed the smooth, golden tan skin of his back in the mirror. The clean, long lines of the underlying musculature were evident and still attractive. But, then, just below his shoulder blades, the beautiful lines were all blurred by . . . dark, coarse, heavy . . . Hair? Body hair? On his back? No fucking way!

Brian squirmed and twisted his torso around trying to get a better look at his upper back. He could tell there was some hair growing back there but he couldn't see well enough to tell how bad it was. Digging through a drawer in the bathroom cupboard he finally found a small hand mirror and used it to view his reflection in the larger mirror.

"Fuck!" It was BAD. When the fuck had this happened? He'd never had a hairy back before. Never. Even the hair on his chest had always been fairly light - of course he got his chest waxed every so often just because, but he'd never needed to do anything to his BACK. Now, from what he could see in the little hand mirror, there was a huge thatch of dark, thick ugly hair all across his upper back and creeping up his shoulders. It was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen.

He was turning into a BEAR! A noisy, snoring, fat BEAR! How could this be happening? Why was it happening to HIM! It wasn't fair . . .

Justin chose that inopportune moment to waltz into the bathroom, pulling out the bright pink ear plugs he'd worn through the night, as he hopped over to give his man a good morning kiss. Justin felt refreshed after his first full nights sleep in more than a week and he was in a great mood. And he fully intended to show Brian just how appreciative he was as soon as they got into the shower. Unfortunately, the grouchy, snarling Grizzly Bear Brian that he found in the bathroom wasn't in any mood to play nicely in the shower.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me, Justin?" snarled Grizzly Brian before Justin could even plant his first morning kiss. "I've been walking around like this for fuck knows how long, at the gym even, and nobody said anything? Thank you so fucking much!"

"What the hell are you bitching about now?" Justin sniped back - okay, he was a little better rested but his temper still wasn't back to normal and he didn't approve of his morning greeting.

"THIS!" Grizzly Brian insisted, pointing to his hairy reflection in the mirror. "All this fucking HAIR! When the fuck did this happen and why the hell didn't you say something? I've been walking around at the gym like THIS!"

"What's the big deal, Brian? So what if you've got a little hair on your shoulders and back? Lots of guys do." Justin shook his head at the queen-out and tried to get past Brian to the shower.

"Lots of guys may walk around looking like Yeti, but not me! Fuck it! Why didn't you tell me?" the Grizz refused to let the perpetrator of this heinous crime get past him without some explanation.

"I. . . I thought it was normal?" came Justin's lame answer, which didn't seem to appease the Grizzly Bear in the least. "I just figured you hadn't waxed in a while because of the baby. It's really not that bad, Brian. I didn't think it was such a big deal."

"Fucking A! You thought I was just naturally a fucking bear? A goddamned fucking BEAR?" Brian stomped off, snarling and gnashing his teeth in a very Grizzly Bear manner.

Justin, who hadn't yet had a shower or any caffeine, and who was still a tad sleep deprived, grabbed his face with both hands and scrubbed at his hair and skin while he tried to think fast. It was really too early to have to deal with a major drama queen moment, wasn't it? Was there somewhere he could hide until Grizzly Brian had gotten it out of his system?

"Yes. This is Brian Kinney. I'd like to set up an appointment with Enrique as soon as possible for waxing," Brian's growling voice came from downstairs and prompted Justin to sprint over, grab the phone away and end the call before the bear could get out another word.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Justin?" the Grizzly Bear snarled as Justin retreated with Brian's cell phone still in hand.

"Waxing and depilatories are not recommended during pregnancy, Brian. There isn't sufficient evidence that the chemicals used won't harm the baby," Justin offered up another helpful pregnancy fact in explanation.

"Well, that's just great, isn't it? Another thing that's not good for me! And just what the fuck am I supposed to do for the next five months until this incubus is removed from me? Huh? Tell me that, Mr. PSA! I will NOT be some pathetic, noisy, snoring, fat, shaggy troll for the next five fucking months! I won't! I WON'T!" the howling Grizzly Bear cried in angry desperation.

"I can help you shave it . . . " a cringing Justin ventured.

"Aaaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhh!" roared the rampaging Grizzly Bear, who stalked nakedly toward the loft door, pulling it open and slamming it closed behind him (it was really the ONLY door in the loft that could be satisfactorily slammed).

Justin stood there in the middle of the empty loft floor wondering exactly how long the angry Brian Bear was going to be out stomping his naked hairy body around the neighborhood.

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***Quotation from, "Snore", by Robyn Hugo McIntyre. Read the entire short story here: http://litchatliterarysalon.wordpress.com/submissions/general-fiction/robynhugomcintyre/#comment-679

Chapter 27 - Newshound On The Scent.

Justin was still trying to decide if he needed to get dressed and start searching for his buck naked bear buddy, when an unabashed Brian unhurriedly reopened the loft door and casually strolled off towards the shower without a word. Justin suspected that he hadn't really gone very far - he'd probably stopped halfway down the stairs and waited until his temper was back under control. It was more about making the dramatic exit and slamming the door shut as the perfect end to his tirade rather than a need to walkabout in the altogether. The timing of such things was very important to a true Drama Queen like Brian. Justin thought he was simply adorable - but would, of course, never voice such sentiments to the queen himself.

After a silent shower, Brian ordered Justin to follow him. The brooding brunet led the way down to the jeep and drove them to a trendy boutique that specialized in gadgets for the modern man. After an hour long consultation with the most obsequious salesperson Justin had ever imagined, they finally walked out of the store equipped with the latest in men's grooming products: A triple-lithium bladed, cordless-electric, rechargeable, waterproof grooming system with seven different blade attachments, guaranteed to make Brian the best groomed metrosexual in the entire Pittsburgh metropolitan area, if not the whole of Pennsylvania. Justin was drafted into providing necessary hair removal assistance, fully trained by the solicitous salesman in the various uses of the new 'system' and then sworn to secrecy and cursed with dire consequences if he ever told a soul about any of this.

The shopping therapy seemed to have done the trick though. Brian was once more in control of his Grizzly Bear temper and seemed at peace with his new, hairier self. Spending more than $500 on a glorified electric razor seemed to restore Brian's confidence that all would be okay. He was even in a pleasant enough mood that Justin convinced him to accompany him to the Diner for brunch before the young waiter started his afternoon shift.

Debbie, who had since been informed by Jennifer about Justin's renewed college plans, welcomed them with a huge smile, crushing hugs and profuse apologies for having ever doubted either of them. The boys were then seated with all due honors and Deb rushed to get them drinks and take their orders. Brian ordered his usual egg-white omelet. Justin enough to feed a small army - he knew that a good portion of anything he ordered would go to feed the growing belly seated beside him even though Brian didn't want to be seen ordering that much.

"Isn't he feeding you, Sunshine?" Debbie teased, noting the mammoth size of Justin's order.

"I'm a growing boy, Deb," Justin laughed back, patting his stomach. "I need to keep my strength up, you know."

"Who knew feeding that bubble butt of yours took so much fuel?" Debbie shot back as she moved off to put in their order.

"Little does she know, that's not all you're feeding, is it Sunshine," Brian teased quietly and groped his personal nutritionist under the table.

Nobody noticed how the obese, rumpled, hippie-looking dude in the corner smiled as he watched the boys' antics. If anyone had been looking at him, they might have noted how the Bluetooth device in his ear seemed to be hooked up to a small digital recorder instead of a phone and how that had a strange looking microphone about as long as the fork sitting next to his plate, which was pointed in the direction of Brian and Justin's booth. But, nobody in this joint would be looking at some Lardass guy when there were so many gorgeous hotties around instead.

When the food was served, Brian and Justin tucked into it like there was no tomorrow. It was kind of hard to keep track of who was eating what since they both ate off each other's plates, laughed and traded food and even, when Brian thought no one was looking, fed each other. They really weren't being all that discreet though and Debbie wasn't the only onlooker who commented on how cute the couple was. Luckily, nobody was foolhardy enough to tell Brian he was acting like part of a 'couple'.

When most of the brunch had been dispatched, Justin finally pushed away his plate, stretched and yawned, causing his tee to ride up, showing off a considerable portion of his overstuffed belly. "Oh, Brian. I'm sooooo full," Justin commented as he arched his back and rubbed his bare belly. "I wish I could go back to the loft and sleep this off for a couple hours."

"Or, I could work it off you in another, rather pleasant manner, Sunshine," Brian offered, rubbing his hand over the expanse of blond boy belly to emphasize his point.

"Mmmmm. That sounds nice . . . But my shift starts in ten minutes," Justin commented as he pulled his shirt back down into place and started to move away from the booth.

"Perfect," Brian declared, jumping up to follow behind his little working boy. "That gives me just enough time to help you wash up before you start work." Brian snickered as he trotted past Justin and pulled the laughing boy after him into the Diner's small but well-used bathroom.

While the promiscuous pair were otherwise engaged, Lardy Larry in the corner quickly looked through the photos he'd snapped of the two using his cell phone. 'Yep! Perfect' he thought to himself as he came to the pic he'd captured of both Brian and Justin rubbing the younger man's almost bare stomach. 'That's the money shot!'

Deb rapped her beringed knuckles loudly against the bathroom door ten minutes later. "Time's up, Sunshine. Get your bubble butt out here!" Deb ordered.

"I'm coming, Deb," you could easily hear Justin's response through the flimsy door.

"I'm sure you are, dear," Debbie yelled back loudly enough so the whole Diner would hear her joke. "But you still have a shift to work, so put it back in your pants for now! Ha!"

About thirty seconds later, a sweaty, red-faced Justin stumbled out of the washroom followed by a cool-looking, unflappable, smirking Brian. There was a tittering of laughter as they walked back to their table. Brian swatted the adorable bubble butt and then reseated himself while Justin scampered off to grab an apron and wash his hands. Then, recomposed, the young waiter strolled back over and refilled Brian's coffee (with decaf, of course), before starting to clear the plates.

"Have I ever told you how much I LOVE the service here, Sunshine?" Brian commented as the youth gave him a dirty look and then moved off to clear another table.

Brian camped out a while longer in his booth, just relaxing, sipping his coffee and watching Justin flitting around. It was Saturday afternoon and he really didn't have anyplace he had to be. It was nice to just sit for a change - and the scenery here was excellent. Plus, it was as good a place as any to think through some things he needed to resolve. Soon.

"Want anything else, Brian?" Justin broke into the quiet man's reverie.

"No," Brian shook his head but then scooted over and gestured to Justin to join him for a minute. "So . . . You probably won't be able to keep working here, after September," Brian commented. "Not with school and . . . Everything else. Right?"

"No. Probably not," Justin agreed reluctantly. "But then I won't have any money at all. It's going to be hard . . ."

"That's not why I asked, Justin. You don't have to worry about money. Remember, we have a deal."

"I know, but I can't just take your money Brian. I don't want to be a burden. I should be contributing, too. . ."

"And, you will be, Sunshine. You're going to have the hardest job there is. . . But, I was thinking . . . Would you want to take on some freelance art work? Something you could do from home and complete at your own pace? Or would that be too much, with everything else?" Brian asked, sincerely concerned.

"That would be perfect, Brian! That way I'd still be bringing in some money. And I'm sure I could fit it in around school and everything else." Justin sounded so enthusiastic that Brian was glad he'd brought up the suggestion.

"Well, I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can set you up with an interview at Ryder with the Art Director," Brian added, smiling at the bright excited little blond.

"You're amazing, Brian," Justin enthused and grappled the larger man into a big bear hug. Then, whispering so that nobody would overhear, Justin added, "I love you. We're going to make the best parents ever, you know!"

Brian started to return the hug, then suddenly remembered that they were in public. He pried Justin off him. "Get back to work, you!" he ordered brusquely and immediately stood up to leave. "Later, Twat!"

"Later!" Justin smiled and turned back to his work.

Lardy Larry flicked off the recorder and rubbed his hands together gleefully. That $200 bucks he'd spent for the super high-gain directional mic had been totally worth it. He'd been able to capture every word of the whispered conversation his targets had just had. Between this recording and the photos he'd got, he was going to make a mint on this story. Now, all he needed was just a little more background info and then . . .

########BBBBBB########

It was a busy Saturday night at Woody's. It wasn't even 7:00 pm and the bar was already packed with the usual pre-club crowd. Everybody was already cruising for their first hook up of the night, it seemed. The studs and the hotties were eyeing the twinks. Friends were meeting up ready to start their nights. Everybody was busy with something or someone else. Which made it pretty easy for a troll like Lardy Larry to slip in unnoticed and take up a stool at the far end of the bar where he had a great view of the entire establishment.

The only person who even noticed the disreputable looking guy scoping out the place was Dr. Dave, who happened to be sitting in a booth facing the door right when the reporter came in. David waited until Michael got up to use the men's room and then he sauntered over to greet his friend. He already suspected what Larry might be doing here at Woody's tonight, and wanted to see if he could help his friend out a bit.

"Larry," David greeted as he neared his old friend's bar stool.

"Dr. Cameron, I presume," Larry replied with his standard hello. "What brings you out to a dive like this, Cameron?"

"There's worse dives, my friend. Besides, I'm here with my boyfriend, Michael. The real question is what brings you here? Last time I heard, you were straight, Larry. Any big changes you want to tell me about?"

"No way. I'm still a big fan of the ladies, Dave. Sorry to disappoint you," Larry reassured his buddy. "No. I'm just here following up on that lead you gave me. It's looking very, very promising, but I want to make sure on this before I publish anything."

"That's a wise move," David agreed with his friend's caution. "If you're going up against Brian Kinney, you're gonna want all your ducks in a row right from the start. I hear he's a real bitch if you cross him and if you're after his twink, well, just be prepared."

"I'll try, Dave. So, who do you suggest I talk to first around here?"

"The bartenders, of course. Don't they always know everything?" David winked at the current twenty-something hottie who was schlepping drinks and waved the man over. "Sam, this is my buddy Larry. Can you set him up and take care of him for me," David directed. "Well, I'd better get back to my date. Let me know if you need anything. See ya, Larry"

David found his way back to the table and discovered that Ted, Emmett and Em's date, Mason, were waiting with Michael. Unsurprisingly, the conversation was once more about Brian. David didn't think Michael was capable of having a conversation without the word 'Brian' popping up at least once every five minutes. It really irked him. He would love to see Brian Kinney brought down a peg or two. Maybe this thing Larry was pursuing would finally put Kinney in his place. David would love to see that - and he'd do whatever he could to help the process along.

". . . They're probably all comfy cozy together in THEIR loft. Well, I don't know how he did it, but I'm sure Boy Wonder must have fucking brainwashed him or something to get Brian to act like this. It's just NOT Brian. He's been acting strange for ages now . . . " Michael was again complaining.

"Honey, just leave it be," Emmett cautioned. "Unless you want your friendship with Brian to be permanently over, you need to just shut your pie hole and let Brian and Justin figure out their own relationship. They're big boys. They can both take care of themselves. And, if they fuck up their lives, they'll have to deal with it. So, you should just apologize for trying to interfere and make up with Brian."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that when he won't even return my calls," Michael whined again.

"Here," David took charge, tired of hearing the same whine over and over again. "Call him on my phone. He won't recognize the number. Invite him here, tonight, and then when he gets here you can make nice and then I can maybe stop hearing about it?"

Michael looked suitably ashamed - for about ten seconds - then he grabbed the phone from David and made the call.

"Kinney," was the terse greeting that answered the call.

"Brian, please don't hang up," Michael begged. "I'm sorry I pissed you off. I know you're still angry, but I miss you. . . The gang is all down here at Woody's and its just not the same without you. So, will you please just come and join us and let me apologize some more."

There was silence for a few moments, and then an amused, "you're pathetic, Mikey."

"Please!"

"Fine. Okay, I'll come to Woody's. But you better be on your best behavior, Mikey." Brian caved and then ended the call.

'Woody's After Work!' Brian quickly texted to Justin, wondering briefly when he'd started informing the twink about where he was going or inviting him along, whichever this was. But he didn't want to dwell on that scary topic. Instead he turned his attention to the arduous process of trying to figure out which of his club clothes he could still fit into.

The clothing situation was getting rather serious. Brian had been putting off dealing with that particular issue for as long as possible. But considering he'd now swollen by more than seven pounds total since this fiasco had started, he knew he couldn't put it off much longer. It was time to talk to his tailor. That was NOT a conversation he was looking forward to.

After a half hour, Brian finally found a pair of black jeans he could still button closed under his belly and a shirt with long tails that hid things pretty well. The pants were a bit uncomfortable, but at least they could still be fastened. As long as no one looked too closely, it still wasn't obvious - he hoped. It was the best he could do, however, so he told himself he just wouldn't think about it. And, once dressed with everything concealed, he thought he still looked fuckable.

Brian made it to Woody's just after 8:00 pm. He was still feeling a bit self-conscious, but he put on his best Brian Kinney nonchalant mask and swaggered inside like he owned the place and . . . people bought it. He was, after all, still their hero - still beautiful, arrogant, controlling and their King. That's all the people wanted to see, so that's all they did see.

Brian rambled over to the gang's table and seated himself without comment. Everybody greeted him like nothing had changed. Mikey offered to pour him a beer from the half-full pitcher sitting on the table, but Brian waved him off and said he'd get himself something later. Then Emmett started off into one of his stories about Hazelhurst, Mississippi, and all the tension evaporated. It was just like old times.

And, just like old times, guys started cruising Brian. It was a huge boost to the man who was starting to regret wearing the uncomfortably tight pants. At least he hadn't completely lost his mojo. After the third time he repeated 'Not Interested', Brian felt right at home. He still knew how to play this game and it was good to be in control of something again.

It wasn't long before the bartender brought over a drink and advised that a guy at the bar had sent it for Brian. Brian was going to send it back, like he always did, but the waiter stopped him. "I told him you never accept drinks from guys, but he said you'd take this one," the waiter winked and held out his tray displaying the gift.

It appeared to be an ordinary brown glass beer bottle but it had been wrapped up in an artistically folded napkin. At the front, one of the corners of the napkin was folded down and the initials 'JT' surrounded by an elaborate cartouche which gave the impression of a pair of plump wide-opened lips had been drawn on the little flap. When Brian pulled down the napkin a little further, he noted with a smile that the drink was a non-alcoholic beer. Brian chuckled, gave the waiter a five dollar tip and told him to have the sender meet him in the men's room in five minutes. Then Brian took a long swig of his drink.

The guys all kidded him about breaking his own rule about accepting drinks from strangers. Brian just laughed and sipped at his drink completely unconcerned. Then, when the time was up, he stood up, guzzled down the last of his drink and slammed the empty bottle back on the table.

"Sorry, boys!" Brian intoned with a lecherous smile. "Duty calls. I have to go 'thank' the generous soul who sent me this kind token of his esteem. You'll have to carry on without me for a while."

As the lothario swaggered away, Ted looked at Michael and commented, "I think you were wrong earlier when you said Brian wasn't acting like himself. That, Michael, was the quintessential 'Brian Kinney'."

Over at the far end of the bar, the waiter who had delivered Brian's drink brought back the invitation and relayed it to the cute young blond who was waiting on the second-to-last bar stool. The gift giver was elated by Brian Kinney's reply and thanked the waiter profusely. He watched carefully and then, as soon as he noticed Brian getting up from the table in the back, the artist popped up and trotted off to the washroom, giggling in an adorable way at the thought of what awaited him.

The guy sitting at the next barstool caught the waiter's eye and they both laughed at the young man's antics. "You know that guy?" Larry questioned.

"Justin? Sure. He's a nice kid. Sweet, too. But way too hung up on Brian Kinney, if you ask me," the waiter explained with a shrug.

"Tell me everything you know about him," demanded the unattractive bar patron in the corner, waving a crisp, new $100 bill at the waiter and smiling in an equally unattractive manner.

Chapter 28 - Congratulations, It's A . . .

Friday was their next doctor's appointment. Like last time, Justin arranged to have the appointment scheduled under Daphne's name. Having the car service had also worked, so he set that up as well. Things had been going pretty well as of late, so Justin was hopeful they could make it through another doctor visit with minimal fallout.

Brian was actually looking forward to this checkup because the doctor would be doing another Ultrasound and they could find out the baby's sex. This seemed like the only fun part of the whole process so far. He'd never been part of Lindsey's pregnancy when she had Gus, so everything was new to him. He figured it was part of the weird hormones, but he was more excited about this appointment than he'd thought was possible. And, despite how silly, sentimental and lesbionic it seemed, he caught himself daydreaming about baby names more than once that week.

The only bad part of the whole week had been his visit to his tailor. The man was by far the best tailor in Pittsburgh and was known as a model of discretion. He'd often bragged to Brian how he could hide almost any imperfection, not that Brian had ever needed those particular skills. Brian therefore bravely bared his soul, and his belly, to the man and begged him for help.

The tailor adeptly hid his amazement at Brian's extraordinary news. He barely batted an eyelash before his professional demeanor was back in place and he started on the necessary alterations. However, the prognosis for Brian's wardrobe was NOT good.

The crafty tailor advised that he could make some adjustments - letting out seams, moving around buttons and hasps and even adding extra little gussets into the sides of Brian's slacks - but there was a definite limit to what even he could do. If he altered the clothing too much, it would ruin the lines of the suits and the effect would be unflattering. The only option in the long run would be for Brian to move up several sizes. The tailor did assure the depressed fashion diva that he could alter the larger sized suits so well that it would be practically impossible to tell exactly what was causing Brian's weight gain - at least for a few more months. The bold little tailor actually seemed thrilled by the challenge Brian's unique situation posed. He couldn't wait to get started. Brian arranged to have pretty much his entire closet delivered to the tailor the next day and placed an order for five new, larger, suits.

So, with his wardrobe concerns at least temporarily allayed, Brian had nothing to worry about other than the impending doctor's visit.

Justin and Daphne were in such high spirits when the car service picked them up from the loft, that they didn't even notice the unkempt man in the older model sedan parked across the street pointing a camera at them and snapping away picture after picture. When the hired car pulled away from the curb, the sedan followed. They'd arranged to pick Brian up at his office on the way to the hospital and the sedan managed to keep on their tail all the way, in spite of the heavy Friday afternoon traffic.

The group arrived at the hospital's rear entrance on schedule and were reassured to see the same two security guards waiting to usher them up to Chiefy's office. Lardass Larry, unfortunately, already had his telephoto lens in place on his camera and was getting some lovely shots of the trio from the far edge of the parking lot. He was far enough away, though, that nobody noticed the avid cameraman.

The visit with Chiefy wasn't too bad. She noted happily right from the start that Brian had gained four and a half pounds since the last checkup. Brian groaned loudly at this proclamation while Justin beamed proudly. Chiefy did note that Brian was still underweight compared to where he needed to be at this stage of his pregnancy and advised him to keep eating. When she mentioned that she expected Brian to put on at least 40 pounds total before his delivery date, Justin thought for a moment that Brian might actually faint again. Daphne and Chiefy laughing at the poor man's reaction didn't really help.

Everything else seemed to be good. Both Brian and the baby seemed healthy. They all got a kick out of listening to the baby's heartbeat on the Dopler machine the doctor brought in. Then, it was time for the main attraction - the Ultrasound.

The same genial technician that had done the first ultrasound was shown in with his portable equipment in tow. Justin had managed to convince Brian to at least drape a sheet over his lower half for the sake of modesty before the guy was admitted - the youth figured enough people got regular views of Brian's privates in Woody's and Babylon and he didn't really need the ultrasound technician to be added to those legions. Brian was amused at Justin's proprietariness and complied with a snicker.

The procedure was about the same as before. The baby's heart rate was calculated and the same measurements were taken to ensure that the fetus was developing properly. However, the changes that were visible from that first blurry black and white blob to the easily identifiable shape they now saw on the monitor were astounding. Even the inexperienced eyes of the parents-to-be were able to make out the baby's large head, clearly delineated hands and feet with delicate, almost see-through fingers and toes, and the beginnings of facial features. But, the best part was when the technician flipped a switch on the machine and pulled out a different, more elaborate wand, and the group watched in amazement as a perfect 3D image of the baby appeared on the monitor.

It was fascinating. The picture was still a bit grainy and the colors were obviously computer generated, but the image was still amazing. You could see the baby almost as clearly as if it was there in the room with them. The tiny little hands and arms, the little face that seemed to be all eyes except for the tiny bump of a nose, the rounded belly and thin looking legs. You could even see what looked like hair on the crown of the head.

Brian watched as his baby moved one hand up to its face and started sucking its thumb. He felt like crying except he was too excited and didn't want to be distracted for even a second. Justin was busy trying to watch the screen, hold both Brian and Daphne's hands and jump up and down in a frenzy all at the same time. Daphne was squealing and hopping along beside her best friend. The technician looked on with a blasé amusement at the familiar - to him - parental reaction.

"Now for the big question, Dads," the technician interrupted the squeeing. "Do you want to know the baby's sex?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes . . . . " Justin and Daphne were chanting vociferously.

"Calm down, Sunshine," Brian ordered affectionately. "Of course we want to know the sex!" Brian agreed and gestured to the guy to get on with it.

The indulgent technician moved the wand around for a few seconds until he got a different view. Then he typed at the computer keyboard and a miniature arrow appeared on the monitor screen with a few important words following. "Congratulations!" Techy said. "It's a boy!"

"A boy," Brian muttered as a look of bemused euphoria washed across his features. His smile was almost as incandescent as Justin's. He quickly slapped a hand across his eyes to try and hide the unabated emotions that were exploding from within him. It was a futile gesture, though, because the slack-jawed gaping smile gave him away. Justin and Daphne were hugging each other madly in the background and even Techy was grinning a bit at this overwhelming reaction.

Techy printed out a couple copies of the Ultrasound pictures and then stowed his equipment and moved off to help the next set of adoring parents-to-be. Justin wouldn't let him leave before enthusiastically kissing the startled man in gratitude. Then he kissed Daphne, and the nurse who'd been assisting and even Chiefy when she came in to see what all the ruckus was about. He really wanted to be kissing Brian, but knew his lover would need time to pull himself together first, so he held back as long as he could. Finally, when there was nobody else left to kiss, Justin dove at Brian, pulled the man's hand away from his face and started raining down passionate kisses all over the beloved countenance.

Everyone else vacated the room and gave the two men a few minutes to celebrate in private.

Their jubilant mood lasted until they were down the elevator and out through the back door.

"Mr. Taylor! Would you like to comment on how it feels to be the first Male Pregnancy in the US?" Someone shouted at them as soon as they cleared the doorway and all three of the previously happy group were immediately blinded by the bright electronic flash that went off in their faces as Lardass Larry ambushed them complete with camera and digital recorder.

Baby Boy Taylor-Kinney:

#########BBBBBBBBB#######

Chapter 29 - Tabloid Times.

Daphne ended up just staying over at the loft that night. She wanted to be there to commiserate with Brian and Justin over their pending exposure. It didn't help much that the reporter had apparently got one important fact wrong - whether it was Brian or Justin who was being disclosed as the rare Male Pregnancy, it still meant their lives were about to become very complicated.

The phone calls started about ten the next morning. Apparently Lardass Larry had sold the story to the National Enquirer AND the Sun. The online versions of the next editions were posted sometime around midnight east-coast time. It took a few hours for everyone to locate the phone number to the loft, but as soon as they did the phone started ringing off the hook. Daphne was in charge of screening the calls while Brian and Justin huddled together in a panic in the bedroom.

"Sorry, Justin," Daphne came in after a while bearing the phone receiver. "You're going to have to take this one. It's your Mom."

"Fuck!" Justin exclaimed as he took the phone out of Daphne's hands. "Brian, I can't lie to my Mom. . . "

"No. You can't. Go ahead and tell her, Sunshine. . . " Brian acceded, while still hoping to keep his secret mostly intact.

"Hi, Mom. . .  No, it's NOT true. I'M not pregnant . . . Really! I Swear, Mom. It's not me . . . But, well . . . *unhhh* I do need to tell you something . . . " Justin spent most of the next hour explaining to his mother what was going on and reassuring her that his entire future was NOT irredeemably fucked.

The good news was that Justin's long, drawn out conversation with his mother kept the phone lines busy for long enough that Brian was able to get a peaceful shower and some breakfast. Brian used the quiet time to make some decisions and plan his response to the deluge of reporters that he knew were bound to invade their lives. Now he just had to convince Justin to go along with the plan - that was definitely going to be the hard part.

"Yes, Mom. . . I love you too. . . I promise that we're okay. Brian's fine and I'm taking care of him and I'll be fine, too. . . I know mom. No, I don't have any idea how we're going to deal with this yet. Brian and I haven't even had time to talk about it yet. . . Yes, we will. . . Thanks, Mom. I love you, too. Talk to you soon. Bye!" Justin finally mollified his mother sufficiently that he was able to hang up.

"Well, that went less badly than I expected," Justin announced as he made his way towards his own breakfast. "I think my Mom is getting used to crazy ass announcements. I was ready for a complete freak out, but this one hardly phased her at all. Mostly she's just worried about me being a father at such a young age. Which I admit is a valid concern. Otherwise I think she'll be supportive. Given time I think she might even get happily excited over the grandma part."

"Will she agree to keep quiet about the misinformation for a while?" Brian asked, mentally forming his plan.

"I don't know. I didn't ask her about that. I assume she would keep quiet if we asked her to. But, what good would that do? Justin was confused.

"I need you as my 'Beard', Sunshine," Brian advised with a pleading smile.

"Huh? You want everyone to think you knocked ME up?"

"Yeah. Just for a while longer. Please?

"Why? What difference does it make if we're being hounded because they think its me rather than you? And why bother when the truth will be obvious enough pretty soon?" Justin voiced his confusion.

"Because there's no way I'll be able to work with reporters climbing up my ass all the time," Brian reasoned. "If they know I'm the one who's pregnant, then the reporters will be following me. Ryder will go nuts at what he'll think of as negative publicity for his firm. My clients, while most of them already know I'm gay and don't care, might object to me being gay AND pregnant. I can't afford to lose any clients right now. I need the income - WE need the income for after the baby comes. Plus, I really don't need that extra stress."

"And I do?" Justin didn't think he cared much for this plan. "So what, if they're following me, not you. It's not like you won't still get some publicity. You're still the other father. And I DO still live here, don't I? You're not going to try and kick me out again are you? As long as I'm here, if the reporters think its me, they'll be here. How will that make any difference?"

"Of course I'm not kicking you out. And yes, there will be reporters here, but they won't be focused on me. They think I'm just the guy who knocked up his partner - nothing new about that."

"So what am I supposed to do? Go around pretending to be pregnant? Lie to everyone? What good is that going to do? It's going to be obvious pretty soon that I'm not the pregnant one. Then what?" Justin did NOT like all the dishonesty this plan was going to require.

"No. I don't expect you to pretend to be pregnant or lie. Just don't say anything." Brian was always a pragmatist. "People have already jumped to conclusions, just don't try too hard to correct them. They'll keep deceiving themselves for longer than you'd imagine. If reporters ask you anything, just say 'No Comment'. You don't have to act any different than usual."

"For how long? And what about our friends? They'll all be pissed as hell at me for deceiving them even if I don't outright lie. I just don't see how this is going to help," Justin insisted.

"Tell our friends the truth - YOU'RE not pregnant. Tell them the tabloids are wrong. But that's all you tell them. We don't explain any more than that. At least not for now," Brian tried to convince the doubting boy. "And I know it won't work forever. I just need a little more time. I have an idea how we might work this to our advantage but it won't work until I set things up a bit more . . . I have to think this through. . . I just need a couple months more, Sunshine. Please."

"So what IS this fabulous plan of yours anyway?" Justin demanded to know before he agreed to anything.

"Well, it's not completely fleshed out yet, but I was thinking . . . "

By noon they had the basic outline of their big plan all drawn up. It was brilliant but risky. If it worked, Brian would land the biggest client of his career as part of a multi-media marketing extravaganza that would also allow him to completely control how he disclosed his big secret. Justin was talked into playing his part in the scheme. Even Daphne liked the plan and volunteered to help out.

"So, what do we do first?" Daphne asked enthusiastically.

"First, you Sunshine, call your Mom back and get her on board with the plan. We can't have her leaking things to Debbie. Daphne, you can be the brave explorer and venture outside to get us all something to eat, and while you're at it, scope out what the situation is outside. I hope that every tabloid reporter in the Western Hemisphere hasn't already descended on our doorstep, but if so we're going to need to deal with it," Brian directed his troops.

"And what are you going to do?" Justin asked the instigator of this whole endeavor.

"I'm going back to sleep. Junior and I need our beauty rest!" Brian snarked as he padded off back to bed.

########BBBBBB#######

"No, Debbie, I am not pregnant. . . . I'm not the one. I swear! . . . Yes, but . . . Yes, I've seen the pictures on the Internet, but they don't prove anything, Deb. . . I know what it looks like but I'm telling you, it's not true. I'm not the one. . . Are you going to believe me or some trashy news rag, Deb?" Justin had been trying to convince Debbie for more than fifteen minutes now and was starting to get annoyed.

Brian grabbed the phone away from the irritated blond. "Deb, listen to me. Are you listening? Justin is NOT pregnant. Now, stop bitching at him so I can take him back to bed and we can fuck some more." Brian hung up the phone. "Haven't you learned yet? THAT'S the only way to win an argument with Debbie."

"My hero!" Justin teased as Brian pulled him off the barstool where he'd been sitting and started nibbling along the length of the long porcelain neck. "Please tell me I can put off calling Lindsey and Mel until tomorrow?"

"I think you'll have to. I've got this other big problem I need you to help me with," Brian purred as he pressed his rock hard cock against the willing body of his pretty blond boy.

"Mmmmmm. That's the kind of problem I excel at handling," replied the Pretty Boy who ground his own hard dick into Brian's hip.

Even fully clothed the feel of that perfect thick heat pressing into him, drove Brian wild. He inhaled another hit of sweaty blond boy and the heady aroma caused his gut to clench. Brian knew exactly how to get this need met.

"I want you inside me," Brian whispered into the Pretty Boy's ear then sucked at the sensitive lobe.

"Are you sure?" the Pretty Boy moaned back, reaching one hand down to caress Brian's baby bump.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I need . . . I want you, Justin. Now!"

Brian was already walking them backwards towards the steps up to the bedroom. He slid his hands under the hem of Justin's shirt and let his palms slide up the perfectly smooth skin. He needed the touch, the warmth of that skin. He stumbled awkwardly up the stairs, somehow managing not to relinquish his contact with the Pretty Boy, and tumbled back onto the bed, pulling his boy on top of him.

It was amazing, this feeling. The way a mere touch, the smell, of this addictive man, aroused him instantaneously. The need was so insistent. So primal. He would do anything to get this pulsing, warm flesh inside of him. Brian would beg if that's what it took.

"Fuck me, Pretty Boy!" Brian moaned needily, spreading open his thighs in invitation as soon as Justin had ripped off his pants.

The Pretty Boy seemed just as impatient to make that connection as he was. Somehow their clothing disappeared in mere seconds. Their bare cocks were rubbing together, hot smooth skin rapaciously seeking hot smooth skin. Lips and tongues sliding and sucking at shoulders and chests and necks, anywhere there was salty sweet skin.

Brian's fervent pleading eventually made it through to Pretty Boy's overheated brain and he reached for a condom and the lube automatically. Justin gazed down on the beautiful, openly vulnerable man lying beneath him and wondered for the millionth time at how he got so fucking lucky as to have found Brian. Especially THIS Brian - the one nobody else ever knew because he ONLY ever existed for one special man. The thought that THIS Brian was all his caused his cock to twitch with pleasure.

Neither of them could wait a second longer. Justin positioned himself and then fiercely pushed into the welcoming depths. Brian sighed as soon as the Pretty Boy's cock slid home, reveling in the feeling of total completeness. If only they could stay like this forever.

But their hungry bodies wouldn't comply. They rocked together impatiently, obeying the commands of instinct, moving in synch to some primitive rhythm that only they two heard. The endless pounding need driving them. Pushing. Thrusting. Relentless. Hard and hot. So good. So perfect. Until the place inside, where they touched, ignited and flamed, sending them writhing in passion until they were both spent.

Brian lay there boneless, breathless, but still connected and filled. The words percolated up without warning. He wanted to say them. He needed to finally say them. "Justin, I . . . " He stopped them just in time.

"I do, too, Big Guy," Justin hummed into his lover's strong chest, answering the unspoken sentiment.

Chapter 30 - Masterfully Managing the Media.

Daphne came back late Sunday morning to update the boys on what was happening outside. Brian and Justin had turned all the phones off, turned down the volume on the door bell and intercom and pretty much kept to their bed all the rest of Saturday. They knew they'd have to venture out sometime, but had been putting it off as long as possible.

Daphne told them that since no one had been able to get a hold of the guys, they'd started calling her. She had no idea how Michael or Ted had found her phone number, but she'd had to field more than a few calls from the gang last night. She'd also talked to just about everyone they'd gone to high school with, several neighbors, one company that manufactured diapers and wanted Justin to endorse their product as well as about twenty reporters. Parked on the street outside the loft there were at least three cars with people waiting in them keeping a constant watch on the front door. Luckily, no one had accosted her as she was coming into the building, though.

"Fuck it all!" Brian declared in disgust. "Well, we might as well get it over with. We're going to have to leave the loft eventually. If we give them their photo op, hopefully they'll all go away. So, who wants to join me for breakfast at the Diner?"

They took the elevator down to the ground floor and went out the back door, making it to the jeep without being intercepted. But, as Brian pulled out of the back parking lot onto the street, four different cars followed them. Justin was a bundle of nerves. Daphne was giving him a shoulder rub from the back seat, trying to get her friend to calm down at least a bit. Brian, wearing a pair of freshly tailored casual slacks and a light knit pullover shirt, looked handsome and imperturbable as always.

Brian's 'Parking Karma' came to their aid once again, with the prime spot right in front of the Diner opening up just as they drove up. Brian parked the Jeep and then looked over at his companions. He quickly leaned in and stole a kiss from the nervous looking young man sitting next to him, then gave Daphne a wink.

"Game faces on, team," Brian ordered as he grabbed hold of the door handle. "Be ready with your 'No Comment's,  Sunshine."

Brian jumped out and ran around to open Justin's door. By the time Justin was out of the car, flanked by Brian and Daphne, they were already surrounded by a horde of people. Brian pushed their way through the crowd, holding onto Justin's hand all the time, not seeming to even notice the flashing cameras and shouted questions. The trio made it to the door of the restaurant and somehow managed to get inside in one piece, pulling the door closed behind them, effectively shutting off the noise and confusion in one stroke.

The peace lasted for about a half a minute before they heard a bellowed "Sunshine" and the blond boy in their midst was yanked away into a crushing bear hug by an unstoppable rainbow hued attack-waitress.

"Deb, let the boy go before you smother him," Brian commanded, prying the spangle-braceletted arms away from the small blond man now gasping for breath.

"I didn't think you guys would dare to come out today," Debbie commented, hugging Brian against his will and even, in her enthusiasm, giving Daphne a quick squeeze.

"Why wouldn't we," Brian replied laconically as he steered his charges towards an empty booth near the back.

"Maybe because of that group of vultures out front?" Deb rejoined. "By the way, how the hell did they know you'd be coming here? I didn't even know you'd risk it. But there have been a couple guys with cameras out there since I came in at 6:00 am."

"Obviously, word is out about the wonderful cuisine served by this fine establishment," Brian opined snootily. "Anybody who's anybody just HAS to be seen eating here!"

"Smartass," Debbie replied with her signature slap to the back of Brian's head.

"Oww! Thanks a lot, Deb. See if I try and compliment you again," Brian teased, obviously in a remarkably good mood considering the circumstances. "Now, if you don't mind, I think this IS still a Diner and I need to feed my roommate before he gets ugly on me. So, can we please order?"

"Of course. What'll you have Sunshine?" Deb stood ready with order pad in hand.

Justin rattled off his usual gargantuan sized breakfast order, complete with two extra side dishes meant for Brian. But, before Daphne or Brian could add their requests, there was another fracus at the door as three familiar patrons elbowed their way inside through the crowd of waiting reporters. Brian waited until the door was closed again before trying to yell his order over the roar of voices.

"What the fuck's going on out there?" Michael demanded of his mother as soon as he'd readjusted his clothing.

Then his Brian-radar kicked in and Michael zoomed over to his Best Friend's table. "Brian! You're here! We've all been trying to get a hold of you but you haven't returned any calls. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mikey. Justin here's the one you should be worried about. He's the one accused of being knocked up," Brian joked and reached over to pat the irate blond's tummy.

"Stop, Brian," Justin complained. "You're just going to make it worse!"

"Tell us, Baby," Emmett pushed his way into the booth next to Daphne with a serious expression on his face and in his voice. "Is it true. You can tell us, no matter what. Are you . . . With child?"

Justin laughed at the overly solemn faces staring down at him. "Well, I am here WITH Brian, and sometimes he does act very immature, but I've never really considered him a 'Child' . . . " Justin said with a skillfully dry delivery.

Daphne thought Justin's witticism was hilarious and cackled away with laughter as Brian shot the youth a dirty look and stuck out his tongue. Emmett and friends looked on, confused for a minute, but eventually got the joke and they laughed too. Which happily broke the tension for everybody. The rest of brunch went by without incident, the gang spreading out to occupy two booths and joking their way through the whole meal. Nothing more was said about Justin's supposed 'condition'.

When neither Brian nor Justin could stuff another bite of food down, Brian tossed some money on the table then stood and dragged Justin out of the booth after him. "Ready for your big debut, Sunshine?"

"No!" Justin whined. "Can't we just sneak out the back or something, Brian?"

"What? And deprive all the housewives of America the perfect supermarket tabloid photo of your adorable little bubble butt? That would be cruel. Come on! Big smile for the cameras! This is your thirty seconds of fame, Sunshine. Enjoy it while it lasts!" Brian cajoled as he wrestled Justin towards the front door.

Brian waved goodbye to their friends then pushed open the Diner door. The pair was immediately surrounded by clamoring reporters and photographers. Brian pulled Justin to stand next to him and held up his hand to get the crowd's attention. He cleared his throat pointedly and the throng went silent.

"Thank you, everyone," Brian smiled his most charming Kinney smile as he surveyed the group. "Would you mind, please, taking a few steps back," he said, waving at the closest ring of people, who all obediently shuffled back a step or two. "That's much better, thank you. I appreciate that you would all like to ask us a few questions. . ." Brian started off then paused with every person there hanging onto his words.

"But, neither Mr. Taylor nor I have any comment. Now, if you'll excuse us," Brian finished quickly, turned towards his shier companion and then swept Justin into his arms, dipping the smaller framed man back gracefully as he kissed the astonished youth with passion.

Every camera there clicked away furiously for the several minutes that the kiss lasted. When Brian was done, he propped Justin back up onto his feet and ushered him through the masses to the Jeep. He rapidly deposited his charge into the passenger seat, locked and closed the door on that side and hurried around to his own seat. The crowd of media hounds didn't have a clue how to handle this and just stood there for long enough that Brian easily pulled the Jeep out into the flow of traffic and the pair had escaped before anyone knew it.

"That, my dear Sunshine, is how we handle the media!" Brian smirked at his laughing blond companion as they sped away from the scene.

#########BBBBB#########

Brian successfully staged several more media appearances throughout that afternoon and into the following week. The strategy seemed to work wonderfully. Instead of rushing the pair every time they stepped out of a building, the media would politely hang back, assured that Brian would offer them an easy photo op and maybe a word or two. The attractive and charming Ad Exec always gave them something, usually leaving the group smiling from a small joke or some silly sexy antics. He never actually said anything of substance, usually repeating his 'No Comment' line at least once every appearance, but somehow, nobody seemed to notice or mind. The photographers had their front page pics, the prime time news had their thirty second video clip, and the reporters got something cute they could splash as a headline across a page. It worked out for everybody.

Eventually, even Justin started to relax and joke a bit with his devoted followers. As long as they weren't crowding him physically, he could handle the attention. After a few days he even started to go out on his own, which left Brian free to go back to his job and life almost as if nothing had changed.

Meanwhile, they had the loft's phone forwarded to Brian's office, where Cynthia expertly handled all the calls and turned down all requests for interviews. The rumors were still running rampant, with forces equally divided on Liberty Avenue between those who believed the story and those who thought it was all a bunch of hooey. Even the family was divided on whether or not they believed Justin was THE Male Pregnancy case, in spite of the fact that Justin had privately reassured every single one of them that HE was not pregnant.

After the first week, though, the initial media feeding frenzy had died down to a quiet little contingent of camera bearing stalkers and Brian and Justin started to rejoin the world more openly. The first night they ventured back to Woody's, there were quite a few camera phones aimed in their direction from all points of the room. But, since they didn't do a thing out of the ordinary - for Brian and Justin, that is - everyone went back to being only peripherally aware of the couple by the end of the night.

The next night, when they again appeared at the bar, hardly anyone seemed to notice. And, when Brian escorted his young accomplice into the men's room for some extracurricular attention, there didn't seem to be many more than the usual number of observers watching. After all, anybody on Liberty Avenue who'd ever been even mildly curious had already gotten more than an eyeful of those two. In fact, you'd be hard pressed to find a single queer in the Pittsburgh metropolitan area who hadn't seen Brian Kinney's schlong, many of them being already intimately acquainted with the appendage in question.

And, to the casual observer, nothing about either man's appearance seemed to have changed, so there really wasn't anything of particular interest to look at. Justin certainly didn't look pregnant. Of course he'd always been slightly built, and those who cared, argued that he was the type who wouldn't 'show' until late in their pregnancy anyway. But, since the Brian and Justin show had resumed its almost nightly viewings at the bars and clubs in the neighborhood, more and more people saw the subject of the rumors with their own eyes and there were fewer and fewer believers.

Brian had had several more sessions with his tailor, who he'd taken to affectionately calling 'Stitch'. They'd spent a great deal of time searching out shirts that, while still attractive, weren't quite as form fitting as what Brian had traditionally sported. These new additions, paired with all Stitch's newly altered slacks, masked almost every change to his normally svelte physique. Of course, Brian no longer took off his shirt in the back room - just his pants, which was really all that was necessary anyways - and he had started working out at home. Plus, nobody had seen the Stud at the Baths for some time . . .

Weeks went by like this until one evening, after the usual Sunday family dinner at the Novotny's, Lardass Larry got a call from his old buddy, David, in Pittsburgh.

"Hey, Larry," came the concerned voice of his friend through the ear piece of his Bluetooth ear clip. "I think you might have a problem with your story back here. I just came from dinner with Taylor. He swears he's not the one who's pregnant. And, from everything I've seen, I think he's telling the truth."

########BBBBBB###########

Chapter 31 - Admitting You Need Someone.

Justin entered the loft after a long shift at the Diner to find his Baby-Daddy sweating away on the exercise bike.

"Hey, you! If you keep that up you'll work off all the nice baby fat I've been working so hard to pack on you!" Justin harped, trying to lure Brian off the bike with a little strip tease.

"I wish, Sunshine," Brian wasn't taking the bait - he just kept on pedaling. "I've already gained two pounds this week and I look like I swallowed a cantaloupe. I need to stay in shape even if I am going to look like a whale soon. At least I'll be a sexy, strong whale."

"I love your little cantaloupe. And you're already sexy and strong. Now, come take a shower with me and then I'll heat up the lasagne Debbie sent home with me for dinner," Justin tried waggling his ass from the bedroom steps as an incentive to tempt Brian off the bike.

"No more carbs! You're killing me here, Sunshine," Brian groaned but slowed his pedaling nonetheless.

The sound of the shower coming on reached Brian's ears and his bicycling slowed even more. "Brian," Justin called enticingly. "I'll let you wash my back . . . side."

"At least it's exercise," Brian grumbled as he hopped off the bike and eagerly jogged up the steps towards the shower.

Freshly showered - Justin was squeaky clean inside and out - and stuffed full of the dreaded carb-laden lasagne, Brian lolled on the couch in well-fed lassitude while Justin worked on arranging his portfolio. Tomorrow was his big interview with the Art Director at Ryder's. If Justin could nail this interview and land some good paying free-lance work, then things would be much easier come fall. It was step one in 'The Plan', aka Brian's Big Business Blueprint, or 'B4'.

Brian didn't seem as nervous about B4 as Justin was. All Brian's usual confidence was intact and fully operational. He'd already got Cynthia and one of the junior exec's started on the necessary research. He and Justin had spent several evenings brainstorming concept ideas and the artist had already drawn up some basic sketches. Brian even had Stitch roped into helping with B4. He was sure the idea was brilliant, he just needed to sell it successfully, but that was his forte.

"I'm bored, Sunshine," Brian suddenly declared, standing up and stretching so that his cantaloupe belly showed just a bit. "You've gone through that damn portfolio at least a dozen times. It's got to be perfect by now. Come on, let's go out. I want to dance."

Justin scrunched up his face and shook his head. "Not tonight. I want to be well rested for my interview tomorrow, Brian."

"Well, you stay in then and shuffle your pictures around, but I'm going out. I haven't been to Babylon in at least a week. People are going to start thinking I've died or something if I don't make an appearance soon," Brian stated decisively as he headed to the closet to change.

"Do you promise to be a good boy, so I don't have to worry about you," Justin hollered up the stairs. "By the way, tonight's bartenders are Matt, Rocky and Chris - and they've all been briefed so don't think you can sneak a beer even if I'm not there!"

"I'll be good, Mother," Brian said in a mock innocent voice with his best fake smile as he came back down the stairs pulling on a loose-fitting sleeveless silk shirt that had been specially made for him by Stitch.

Brian looked certifiably edible, Justin thought, quickly rethinking his decision to stay home. Fuck, how could the man look even sexier at five months pregnant? That thing about pregnancy making you glow must be true, if Brian was any example. Justin worried that he'd be too tempting to the Babylon crowd and almost changed his mind.

"Stop worrying, Dear," Brian teased in falsetto as he pocketed his wallet, keys and a few condoms. "I'm a big boy and I CAN handle going out by myself for one night. Don't wait up!"

Justin sighed and went back to weeding out his portfolio.

As Brian walked through the chain draped entrance to his favorite club, he wondered when the last time was that he'd been here without Justin. What with their big secret, B4 and the media dogging their almost every step, Brian and Justin had been spending a LOT of time together. It felt weird to go somewhere without him. Brian did not want to acknowledge that feeling. It almost felt like he might have somehow become part of a 'couple'.

It was definitely a good decision to come tonight without his blond ball and chain. Time to reassert his inner Brian Kinney. He might have been forced into a 'relationship' against his will - he didn't think he could call what he and Justin had now anything else, especially since they were about to have a fucking baby together - but that didn't mean he had to act all hetero or coupley. He was still Brian Fucking Kinney! It was high time to remind everyone, himself included, of that fact!

Brian walked up to the bar and Matt handed him a bottle of non-alcoholic beer before he even tried to order. Fucking Twink - He must have called ahead or something. Fine, Brian would drink the piss water. He didn't actually want to do anything that might hurt the baby, but it was just the principle of the thing. He should be trusted enough to order his own fucking drinks. Another reason why it was a good thing he'd left Justin home.

Brian sipped his 'beer' and leaned back against the bar in the same casual slouch he'd always assumed when on the prowl. It felt good to be back in familiar surroundings. This was where he felt at home. At least this hadn't changed.

Then the Stud looked down at his body and noticed that his position emphasized the unusual protrusion under his shirt. He looked . . .  fat. "Shit!" He quickly stood up and straightened his shirt tails so he didn't look so chubby. No more slouching, he reminded himself.

Fine. He hadn't come here tonight to lean against the bar all night anyway. He'd come to dance, so that's what he'd do. Brian swallowed the rest of this drink and then moved out onto the dance floor, letting his body fall into the familiar thumpa-thumpa beat.

Near the center of the dance floor he spotted a suitable target: tall, lean, dark curly hair and bright green eyes peeking out from under long eyelashes. Mmmmm! Just what Brian needed. He moved towards the toothsome treat with a lecherous hungry smile. The Treat batted his lovely lashes and looked up at Brian invitingly with a sultry, knowing smile. Brian quietly growled in appreciation.

The Stud moved into place, claiming the Treat as his own territory with a proprietary hand on the slender, supple waist. Treat peeked at Brian from under his lashes again and danced his body closer. The Treat did a little shimmy motion that caused his groin to brush against the front of Brian's slacks. Brian highly approved of that particular dance move. His cock really liked it too and it stood up to take notice. Treat ran his hands down The Stud's well-muscled bare arms, jumping from there to the strong lean hips and beyond.

Brian leaned his head back as he swayed to the music and smiled at the beauty of life. The Treat swayed along with him and pressed closer. Brian leaned in and nibbled at the Treat's long neck, the curly dark hair tickling a little against Brian's nose and causing him to smile even more. It felt like a long time since he'd tricked. Brian was definitely looking forward to tricking with this Treat tonight.

Treat laughed a pleasant low rumble and lifted his hand to caress Brian's strong shoulders and chest. The Treat's nimble, slender fingers trailed down Brian's front, brushing over his sensitive nipples and inciting a little gasp from the aroused Stud. The fingers drifted over to lightly tickle along Brian's side and then traced along the waistband of Brian's slacks. Treat started to slide his fingers upwards under the hem of The Stud's long-tailed shirt, eager to run his palms all over what he expected to be a taut well-muscled set of abs.

Which is when Brian's fantasy suddenly crashed to a halt. He seized the wandering digits and yanked the tricky Treat's hand back mere centimeters away from the discovery of Brian's big secret. Treat looked startled and confused. He tried to reach up again but The Stud batted his hands away and muttered a weak 'Fuck off'.

Brian spun around and marched straight through the exit, not looking back.

"That was quick," Justin commented as Brian yanked the loft door open and stomped inside, slamming the door closed behind him.

"Fuck you!" Brian screamed at the unwary artist and thudded off to the shower in a huff.

"O-Kay," Justin said to himself, looking back at his work. "I guess I don't need to ask if you had a good time."

Justin waited more than an hour before he felt brave enough to head to bed. He wanted to make sure that Brian had plenty of time to cool off, or fall asleep, whichever came first. He cautiously peeked around the glass partition to see what option he'd be getting himself into before venturing forward. His Stud was lying there happily wheezing away with the little adhesive strip secured in its place on his nose. 'Oh! He's so cute when he's asleep', Justin thought.

Justin crawled into bed and snuggled up to his cute little cuddle-bunny (Heaven forbid that Brian somehow overhear that thought!). He figured that he'd hear about whatever happened at Babylon tomorrow - it must not have been too bad or Matt would have called him. He slipped in his ear plugs, just in case, and quickly drifted off to sleep. . .

. . . Only to be awakened a couple of hours later by a piercing wail that defied even the foam ear plugs and his bedmate clutching at his arm in a total panic.

"Owww! Owwwwwww! Fucking SHIT! OOOWWWWW! Justin! Fucking help! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Brian! Fuck, what's the matter! Are you okay? Is it the baby? Brian, tell me what's wrong!" Justin was wide awake in seconds and disposed to panic immediately if he couldn't discover what was wrong with his partner in the next ten seconds.

"My-my-my leg. It's . . . pain! I can't move it! Oooooowwwww! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Help me!

Brian had managed to struggle upward in bed to an almost seated position. His hands were both grappling around his left thigh. Justin flipped on the overhead lights and could clearly see the muscles spasming. It was like the muscles were seizing tightly, locked up and unable to move while a strong current of electricity was zapped through the nerves.

"I can't move my fucking leg!" Brian was still yelling.

Justin had absolutely no idea what to do. When Brian said that he couldn't move his leg, it scared him. The muscles looked so rigid. He reached over and started to rub the trembling thigh - the muscle under his fingers seemed warm to the touch and solid. All he could think to do was to massage the affected muscles and hope he was doing the right thing.

At first it seemed that his touch hurt Brian as much as whatever was happening to his leg. But, little by little he could feel the muscles relaxing. Justin tried to manually unbend the leg, and he could do it, but barely, the muscles still seemed locked. He tried flexing the leg more, lifting the leg and bending the knee while still massaging. It was still rigid but moved a little. Working very patiently, alternately straightening and flexing the leg while massaging the tight muscles, seemed to help and Brian quieted. It took more than ten minutes of stretching and flexing the leg while massaging the muscles before Brian finally sighed in relief, again able to move his own leg.

"What the fuck was that?" Brian asked, still a little panicky.

"Leg cramp," Justin answered matter-of-factly. "I read about them in one of the baby books. I had no fucking idea they'd be that bad, though. Or that scary."

"Is that going to happen again," Brian looked like he was on the verge of tears just thinking about suffering through another cramp.

"I don't know. I'll call Chiefy in the morning and find out what we can do," Justin promised, pulling Brian back so the man could rest against his chest.

"That fucking scared the shit out of me, Justin," Brian commented as he snuggled more comfortably into Justin's strong embrace.

"Me too," Justin admitted with a big sigh.

"I'm not going to be able to do this. There's no fucking way. That was just a fucking leg cramp and I thought I was dying. What the fuck am I going to do when the baby . . ."

"Shhh, Brian. It'll be okay. You'll be fine. You can do this and I'll help," Justin tried to comfort the frightened man, although he was almost as scared himself.

"Thank you, Justin," Brian said humbly. "Thank you for being here and taking care of me and sharing all this. I couldn't do this without you. I . . . I couldn't do this alone. Thank you for . . . for caring."

"You don't have to thank me, Brian. That's what love is," Justin replied, kissing Brian's temple. "This is what love feels like."

It took a long time for both men to finally get back to sleep. Justin was worried about Brian's leg cramps and all the other scary stuff still to come. Brian was busy contemplating Justin's enigmatic words.

########BBBBBB########

Chapter 32 - Midway.

In spite of all the drama in the night, Justin was awake bright and early the next morning and excited about his interview. Brian was not quite as chipper as his protégé, but then again he never was a morning person and he was having to function without caffeine these days which made it worse. Justin was pretty good at handling a morning Brian though, and they made it out of the loft in good time and without any major upsets.

Justin rather liked driving to work together like this. It felt very adult and coupley. Brian was grumbling something under his breath about 'can't even go to work by my fucking self . . .' Justin wisely shut up after that and the rest of the drive went by in silence.

At Ryder's, they kissed goodbye in the elevator before it stopped on the main floor of the agency. Justin got out and headed to the reception desk to check in while Brian rode up two more floors to his own office. Cynthia was already there, waiting for him to get off the elevator, ready with his calendar, a stack of messages and the presentation boards for his first meeting of the day.

Brian's job, luckily, hadn't been much affected by the media focus on his lover. He'd been 'out' at work from day one so there wasn't any shock value in seeing him with another man. Whether or not the blond boy on the news was pregnant and, if so, whether Kinney was the other father, was debated hotly around the water cooler and in the break room. But, other than that, the controversy hadn't seemed to bother anyone at the office. If anything, Brian was now treated like a minor celebrity of sorts - the guy who knew someone else who was famous. As far as the clients were concerned, either they hadn't made the connection or they apparently didn't care. The subject hadn't come up even once in any client meetings.

As far as Ryder was concerned, Kinney was still on a roll with his series of hot new campaigns. Brian's latest work was even better than before - his ideas were still edgy and current but he seemed better at intuiting what the client wanted. In fact, Ryder was so pleased with Brian's work that, in two weeks time when the second quarter profit distributions were made, Marty's top Exec should be pleased with the hefty bonus he'd be getting. And, as long as the money kept rolling in, Ryder didn't give a crap if Kinney had gotten some boy pregnant, no matter how weird the story was.

Which was why Kinney had been put in charge of today's critical new client presentation for Calvin Klein. For the first time ever, the Ryder Agency had a shot at winning a major clothing designer's marketing account. If they got this account, they'd have a toe in the door to all the biggest fashion design firms not only in the US but in Europe too. It was a very big deal and Ryder hoped Kinney was on the top of his game this morning.

Everything was already set up in the conference room when Ryder arrived with the Calvin Klein representatives in tow. Ryder introduced Kinney and then took a seat to watch the presentation along with everybody else. Brian looked his usual elegant self, wearing a new designer suit and his face practically glowing with his zeal for this new campaign. Even Ryder, as hetero as they come, had to admit that Kinney was an incredibly attractive man. Which was great for selling new campaigns to his clients.

Brian was definitely on top of his game this morning. He was charming. He smiled at the clients and entertained them with a few innocuous jokes. And then, when he started in on the presentation proper, he was all serious professional and immediately grabbed everyone's respect. it was going perfectly.

For most of the meeting, Brian was constantly moving. He'd jump up to point out a particular facet of the campaign strategy, then sit again so he could be face to face with the client when he was discussing details. He seemed to be bubbling over with energy and it added to the enthusiasm of the presentation. The clients ate it up. Both Ryder and Kinney knew they would be signing a new prize client before the end of the day.

Finally, at the end of the meeting, Brian went to jump up one last time to shake hands. He was already wearing a sexy smirk that was designed to draw in both the men and the women. Only, this time when Brian rose from his seat he felt a little dizzy and he quickly had to grab at the edge of the table to steady himself. His ultra-charming smile slipped off his face and he had to close his eyes to make the room stop spinning. He dropped back into his seat and leaned forward, resting his head against the edge of the table.

And that's when Brian felt it. All doubled over the way he was, his belly was tightly constricted. Apparently the other occupant of that belly didn't like being so squished and pushed back angrily. It was the barest little flutter of motion deep inside him, but Brian felt it clearly. He sat up immediately to give the baby some more room and smiled when the fluttering stopped.

"Brian? Brian! Can you hear me Brian? Are you okay?" Brian finally became aware that Ryder was hovering over him and shouting his name while the clients all stood around and whispered worriedly.

He held up his hand to stop Ryder from shouting, then took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "I'm fine Marty. Just a little light headed. I probably shouldn't have skipped breakfast this morning." Brian looked up at all the concerned faces and reapplied his charming Kinney smile, "sorry to frighten all of you. I'm quite all right." Brian chuckled deprecatingly and stood up again so everyone could see he was fine.

The clients were easily reassured. They all shook hands and then Ryder escorted them out the door, discussing the contract as they went. Brian let himself fall back into the deep leather seat of the conference chair and just sat there with an awestruck half-smile on his glowing face.

"Brian? What's wrong," Justin came barreling into the room, waves of concern radiating out from his body. "Cynthia grabbed me just as I was leaving my interview and told me you almost passed out in your meeting. What happened? Should I call the doctor?"

"Calm yourself, Dad. I'm fine," Brian said with a proud little smile. "I felt the baby kick!"

"You did? Awesome!" Justin said, momentarily reverting to his true age. "But why did Cynthia think you were about to pass out?"

"I didn't eat much this morning - someone was in too big a hurry to get here," Brian tried to explain, his own sense of wonder making him babble a little. "And then I was running all over during this presentation. I just got a little light headed. I'm sure it's nothing. I probably just need to eat. But then, when I got dizzy, I sat down and that's when I felt it. Junior didn't like the way I was leaning over. He was all wedged in and wanted more room, I guess, and I felt him kicking. Then, when I sat up again, it stopped. It was the weirdest feeling, Justin. It was just so . . . Weird. I have another little person inside me! It's so . . ." Brian Kinney, marketing whiz, ran out of words to explain his amazement.

"It's so fucking cool," the teenager agreed, equally at a loss for words.

They both sat there giggling at themselves and the wonder of it all for several moments.

Until . . .

*Ahem*

They were finally interrupted by Cynthia, who was standing in the open doorway wearing an impudent smile. She waved a little impishly. Brian groaned.

"So, I guess all the news reports WERE wrong," Cynthia declared. "Justin isn't pregnant. But, you, Brian . . . ?"

Brian looked up like a guilty child caught doing something naughty. He smiled mischievously with his lips folded in to partially mask his glee and shrugged. Justin sat next to him and beamed at Cynthia proudly.

"Fuck!" was all Cynthia said as she pulled out another chair and plopped down into the seat next to them.

Brian was the first one to come back to reality. "Alright. Enough. Sunshine, you run out and be a good Baby-Daddy and get me something to eat before I really DO pass out. Cynthia, we need to get legal to make a few changes to the Calvin Klein contracts. I want them faxed out before noon."

Brian stood up and strode out of the conference room as if nothing had happened. Cynthia smiled and squeezed Justin's shoulder affectionately, then got up to follow. Justin laughed again and then hopped up to go get Brian's food. And he still thought it was Awesome!

##########BBBBB###########

The next morning, Justin got a call from Ryder's Art Director congratulating him. He'd been approved as a freelance artist and would be getting his first assignment the next week. Brian was late for work that day - he couldn't leave without giving Justin a good old-fashioned celebratory fuck as soon as they got the news.

The next day, Friday, was Brian's next doctor's appointment. At twenty weeks, he was now at the halfway point of the pregnancy. This was going to be a longer check up than usual so Brian took a half day off work and went home at lunchtime.

Since they'd already been 'found out', there was no need for subterfuge this month. Justin made the doctor's appointment under his name. Daphne didn't want to miss out on the fun though, so she talked Brian into letting her tag along again. They also decided to use the car service since it was just easier than driving. However, this time they just walked in through the front doors and waved to the reporters gathered outside.

Since this was such an important time in the pregnancy, there were a lot most tests. Brian had to give a urine sample and two blood samples. Chiefy advised that she would be testing Brian's blood sugar levels for possible signs of gestational diabetes, running a routine STD check and the all-important 'triple screen test' to screen for any possible chromosomal abnormalities. Then Brian was weighed, poked, prodded and measured.

Chiefy was very pleased with his weight gain this month: Brian had gained six pounds, which finally brought him up to within the normal weight range. Brian wasn’t sure if he should be proud at having attained the desired weight, or devastated by the fact that he'd gained almost fifteen pounds total - a staggering number by his calculations.

The Chief was a little concerned about how low Brian's blood pressure had dropped. It was only 80/40 this afternoon. While it was normal for someone who was pregnant to have lower blood pressure because of all the extra blood his body was generating to help with the baby's development, she cautioned him to let her know if he experienced more problems. This did explain the dizzy spell Brian had suffered at work the other day. Brian and Justin were glad to at least know what had caused the aberration and that it probably wasn't serious.

Chiefy measured Brian's belly to gauge fetal growth, which seemed to be just fine. She changed his prescription for his prenatal vitamins to a different formulation that included more magnesium, which she said would help prevent more leg cramps. Then she answered the million and two questions that the two Daddies had accumulated since their last visit, and they were done.

Brian smugly thought that he was getting quite good at the whole doctor visit thing. He hadn't even come close to any panic moments today. Maybe he could do this pregnancy schtick after all.

As they left the hospital, Brian guided their little group over to an area away from the doors where there were several planters full of blooming summer flowers. With this as the perfect backdrop, Brian summoned his reporters and officiously advised them all where to stand so that everyone had a good view. He waved for quiet.

"Thank you. Just to reassure you, everybody is doing just fine and we're all healthy. Other than that, we have no comment. But thanks for coming out and joining us on this beautiful summer afternoon!" Brian announced facetiously. Then the handsome big brunet scooped up the smaller blond, holding him cradled in his strong arms, and kissed Justin breathless. Cameras clicked away energetically for a couple minutes and then the satisfied reporters all started moving off so they could post their stories.

Only one or two people waited around to see the end of the boys' big kiss. When Brian had finally had enough, he flipped Justin back onto his feet, put one arm around his boy and the other around Daphne's shoulders and started to guide them off towards the waiting car. Once again, nobody noticed the one poorly dressed, overweight cameraman still snapping pictures of the three from the far edge of the sidewalk.

##########BBBBBB########

Chapter 33 - Spying.

This morning, Brian was taking a huge risk and trying something completely unprecedented in the Kinney history books. He was having brunch with his pseudo-mother-in-law. It was unheard of. It was frightening for all parties involved. Brian hadn't even officially admitted to having a 'relationship' before and here he was at an upscale restaurant on a Sunday morning having breakfast with his teenage fuck buddy and said buddy's mother. He blamed it ALL on the hormones.

"So, Brian" Jennifer asked congenially. "How are you feeling? I know that by the time I was five months pregnant with Justin I was ready to scream. I was so bloated and I felt so huge. I had no idea then how bad it would get, but I already felt like a blimp."

Oh, Fuck! He wasn't really sitting here exchanging pregnancy stories with his in-law. Was he? It was a fucking NIGHTMARE. Why couldn't he drink mimosas like Justin and Jennifer to help dull the horror. Why couldn't he run away screaming? Oh yeah, they were going to ask for Jennifer's help . . . Shit! He would have to sit here and continue smiling blandly. He'd never be able to talk Justin into a trip to the men's room for stress relief purposes. It was just going to be a long meal.

"So, Mom. I just landed a job doing some freelance art work and Brian got this big bonus from work," Justin, noticing his partner's discomfort, launched into the meat of the issue. "We thought the additional money might go to good use as a down payment on a house. And, since you just passed your Realtor's Exam, we thought maybe you could help us find a place?"

"Oh, Justin! I'd love to help you find a house! This is soooo exciting! Now, what are you looking for," Jennifer switched almost imperceptively into Realtor-mode, and in the process, captured Brian's respect.

The rest of the meal was spent much more pleasantly, discussing what they did, and more importantly, did NOT, want in a house. Brian was impressed with Jennifer's grasp of the local housing market. That, along with her ability and willingness to keep their confidences so far, went a long way towards endearing the feisty little blond matriarch into Brian's good graces. He guessed he could tolerate the Mother-in-law. As long as she didn't want to talk about Justin's potty training or something equally off-putting.

Brian was so proud of himself for having survived brunch without fucking the waiter - who was, by the way, scrumptious - that he acceded to Justin's request to head over to Debbie's early for the weekly family dinner. Justin was feeling a bit guilty for having abandoned Deb and Vic so abruptly. He thought that if the two of them arrived early, he could help cook dinner and they'd all have a chance to sit and catch up. Brian was willing to try it, although he acknowledged he might not make it till dinner if they started in on him so early.

And, it might have worked, too, if Mikey and Dr. Dave hadn't also thought to show up early.

"Hey, Brian. What are you doing here so early," Michael intoned as soon as he'd crossed the threshold. "You never come early. How've you been? God, I never see you at Woody's or Babylon lately. What have you been doing with yourself . . . " Mikey's one-way conversation went on for a good five minutes before he noticed Brian wasn't responding.

"Hey, Mikey," Brian finally responded as soon as he could get a word in.

"So, Justin, how are you feeling?" David asked, taking the chair next to the boy who was busy grating asiago cheese into a small metal bowl for Deb.

"I'm okay . . . Why are you asking. I told you, David, I'm not pregnant," Justin patiently explained for the zillionth time.

"Well, I know what you've said, but all the news reports and all . . . Just yesterday they were showing pictures of you at the hospital. And with Brian giving statements about how, 'Everybody's healthy', it looks suspicious, you know. Plus, you've never really denied it all to the media. I'm just curious," David pushed for some real answers.

"What good would my denying it do?" Justin half-explained. "Everyone's convinced that I'm the Male Pregnancy, so why waste my breath trying to deny it. They wouldn't listen. You're not even convinced after I've denied it to you personally."

"But then, what were you guys doing at the hospital?" Dr. Dave persisted.

"What Justin was doing at the hospital is none of your fucking business, Dr. Cameron!" insisted Brian, who'd just come in at the tail end of the conversation. "I'd figure that YOU of all people would know there are laws about medical privacy - HIPAA, and all that shit - so why are you bugging Justin with all these questions?"

Brian had insinuated his body between David and Justin and was standing there with his arms crossed, glaring icily down at the nosy chiropractor who was still seated. The position, with him seated, his eyes roughly level with Brian's waist and the tall, brooding brunet looming over him, was uncomfortable. David's own inner 'alpha-male' roared up in response and he stood, too, bristling at Brian's show of macho superiority.

"Why so defensive, Kinney?" David demanded, his voice raising at the perceived threat. "What is it your little boy toy has to hide?"

"Justin doesn't have anything to HIDE. I just don't like you constantly badgering him. Don't you have your own 'Boy Toy' to play with? Leave Justin alone!" Brian snarled back, keeping his defensive stance, his body physically blocking David from getting to Justin still seated behind him.

"Fuck you, Kinney. Can't Justin talk to anyone he likes without you going all insecure? To use your own favorite phase, 'you're pathetic'," David spat back.

"Hey, Sis," Vic yelled from where he'd been watching, seated across the table. "You'd better get a bucket of ice water to throw over the two cave men over here. They're about to start beating their chests and throwing rocks. Before you know it, they'll be whacking at each other with their clubs and then dragging Justin and Michael off by their hair."

The absurd image Vic had raised with his joking words was better than the bucket of ice water would have been. Both of the cave men realized instantly how silly they were being and backed off. Vic, Michael and Deb stood in the kitchen laughing uproariously at the chagrined looks on the two antagonists' faces. Brian stomped off towards the family room and Justin quickly followed. Michael came over to console his cave man, while David continued to warily watch Brian from afar.

Justin approached a still fuming Brian cautiously, his right arm snaking around the taller man's waist while his left hand trailed comfortingly down Brian's chest, resting almost automatically on Brian's mid-section. Justin's touch seemed to work instantly, causing Brian to visibly relax. The two whispered for a minute, their foreheads intimately bent together for mutual support.

"Hey, Deb. We'll be back later for dinner," Justin hollered and then led his cave man out the door.

When Brian and Justin did come back later, they were of course the last to arrive. Which didn't seem to bother a red-faced, well-fucked looking young blond who had apparently used his many skills to while away the rest of the afternoon as he consoled his now contented cave man. Brian was smirking and happy and didn't even look in David's direction when they came in and grabbed the last two seats at the table.

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully. Brian didn't even get upset when Mel teased him for taking a third helping of the delicious penne. When he wasn't eating, Brian spent a lot of time holding and playing with baby Gus, being more attentive than usual to his offspring, some thought. But, since there were no more big arguments, everyone declared this dinner a success, and then they all started packing up to leave.

As soon as they arrived at the older man's house, David sent Michael on up to bed and then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Yeah, Larry. It's me . . . I tried to talk to the boy tonight but didn't get much. Sorry. His guard dog, Kinney, wouldn't let me near the kid most of the night . . . I don't know . . . Yeah, something still just feels off. I can't put my finger on it yet, but there's just something . . . Sure thing . . . I'll let you know if I come up with anything new. Yeah . . . Talk to you soon, Larry," David concluded then ended the call.

David tossed his cell onto the table behind the couch and poured himself a drink. There was something fluttering around in the back of his consciousness that was still bugging him. He couldn't quite figure Justin Taylor out. David knew there was just something . . . But he still hadn't sussed out the solution by the time he finished his drink. He shook his head, left the glass on the table and headed up to join Michael in bed.

Whatever it was, it would come to him, eventually.

##########BBBBB##########

Chapter 34 - Now You See It, Now You Don't!

Brian put in some long hours over the next couple of weeks on the Calvin Klein ads. Part of his campaign strategy was to move away from the idea that you had to be a model to look great in designer clothes. This should work especially well with a brand like CK that already had a broader appeal and just needed to expand its market shares. So, he was on the look out for gorgeous, hunky looking men with average, ordinary jobs to use in his print campaigns. Brian happened to know a LOT of guys, so this wasn't too difficult a task for him.

By the end of the second week, Brian had assembled a hot looking group of pretty boys from all walks of life: Policemen, Firefighters, an auto mechanic, a construction worker, an ER nurse he remembered from Allegheny General, a personal trainer from Ript Gym, a couple of random businessmen and a few professionals, and even a college professor. They were a beautiful group of men but without that fake perfectionism that you get from a bunch of models.  

Justin had meanwhile been working on his first freelance assignment for Ryder's. It was some hokey little ad for shoes, and the assignment had come with detailed instructions that didn't leave him much room for artistic interpretation, so it didn't take too much of his time. When he wasn't doing that or working a shift at the Diner, Justin was busy helping Brian tweak the CK ads or sketching out ideas for B4.

The concept designs for B4 were pretty much complete. But, since this was going to be such an important deal, Brian wanted to go in with a complete layout that was, for the most part, print ready. He would need a few more weeks before he could get the photo shoots he needed. So, for now, they were just waiting.

Brian hated JUST waiting. Brian was on the exercise bike or lifting free weights or walking on the treadmill almost constantly these days, trying to burn off his nervous energy. That meant that Justin was working double time to keep him fed right. The prodigious quantities of food being consumed at the loft because of all this were astounding. To keep them supplied with healthier alternatives, Justin found himself begging lasagnes and casseroles from Debbie and groceries from his mother. He didn't want Brian to have to resort to unhealthy takeout or, heaven forbid, junk food, when and if the mood to eat struck. He'd actually caught the normally health-obsessed Brian eating a bag of those waxy chocolate covered donuts one afternoon when he got back to the loft late. Brian shrugged and merely said, 'the baby was hungry'.

To prevent further donut incidents, Justin cooked extra large meals and then deposited half into the freezer complete with easy to follow heating instructions on each package. He made sure there were always sandwich fixings and fresh bagels on hand as well as lots of fresh fruit. He'd even conspired with Cynthia to make sure that she kept Brian well supplied with an endless supply of healthy snacks at the office. It felt like their lives revolved around eating and food these days, but Justin did what had to be done to keep his man fed.

Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be working. Brian's cute little cantaloupe belly had progressed to more of a honeydew melon size. Without his shirt on, Brian's new physique made his condition obvious. But, Justin was constantly amazed at the miracles Stitch was able to work with Brian's shirts and jackets. Anyone who really knew Brian and looked at him carefully enough could probably tell that the man HAD put on weight, but, dressed to the nines in one of Stich's elegantly tailored Armani suits, even Justin couldn't see the tell-tale belly. And with all the weight lifting and exercising Brian had been doing, combined with the fact that he wasn't drinking, smoking, doing drugs or staying out till all hours, the handsome brunet had never looked sexier.

Which went partway towards explaining why, when he wasn't eating or exercising these days, Brian was pretty much constantly fending off Justin's amorous advances. Okay . . . So, he wasn't REALLY fending Justin off. He was loving it. And even, on occasion, tempting him on purpose. It seemed that every time Brian would take his shirt off and show his growing belly, Justin was overcome with sheer lust. Once he figured this out, it was just amazing how many excuses Brian came up with to walk around shirtless whenever Justin was around. Poor Justin could barely get anything done around the loft between his constant work at either feeding or fucking Brian. It was a very difficult time for the poor horny teenager.

Brian was . . . Conflicted.

On one hand, Brian had never felt so cared for in his entire life. As far back as he could remember, it had only just been him. Brian was the only person he knew that he could rely on. Parents, teachers, friends, lovers - up till now, none had ever been completely reliable. In his experience, no one but Brian could be counted on to take care of Brian. At least not all the time. Yes, he'd had weak moments when he had given in to the need to let another in briefly. But every single time he'd been somehow disappointed. Even those that professed to love him - maybe, especially, those who professed to love him - had let him down again and again. Brian had never, NEVER, trusted anyone completely

And now there was Justin. He was only a fucking kid - just eighteen, for fuck's sake. He was physically small and not that strong. But, Justin had changed his whole life to take care of Brian, to keep his confidences, and had refused to let Brian exclude him. Justin had been willing to give up his entire future for Brian. Justin cherished him, defended him, sheltered him both physically and emotionally in ways Brian had never expected to find. Justin didn't judge him or ask him to change. Justin kept Brian safe. Justin both said he loved Brian and showed his love every single day. Brian found that he actually, truly, trusted Justin.

Which should have made Brian ecstatically happy, right? Then why did Brian constantly find himself doubting it all. It felt wonderful to have Justin around, caring for him. So, why couldn't Brian ever stop the nagging doubts? Why couldn't he just accept this love without constantly questioning it? Why did Brian sometimes feel so trapped?

It was like his own body had betrayed him. Brian was trapped in this body that kept him here, virtually chained to Justin because the boy was the only one who knew the secret. Brian couldn't go out and trick, he couldn't disappear to the Baths for easy anonymous sex, he couldn't go to the gym anymore, he couldn't even trust his oldest and closest friends because he didn't think they would keep his secret.

Brian HAD to trust Justin. This teenaged blond twink was all he had right now. He didn't even have the small, grudging amount of respect he'd garnered by being The Stud of Liberty Avenue anymore. And, yes, he still went out to Woody's or Babylon every so often, but it wasn't the same. He couldn't just let it all go like he used to. He wasn't quite as free. And he vaguely resented it - and the baby and Justin and his whole stupid fucked up life and his traitorous body.

So, if Brian was using his only remaining addiction, the only pain management tool still left to him - Sex - a little bit heavily, who could blame him? Justin wasn't complaining. Even on days when the young artist seemed to be walking a little bowlegged and sitting down gingerly, he never complained. Every single time he saw his hunky Baby-Daddy strutting around showing off that sexy little baby bump, Justin was all over the man. And, if Justin was giving as well as he was getting these days, nobody else seemed to be complaining either. The sex was pretty much the only thing keeping their household, or at least Brian, together.

That's why it was so completely devastating to Brian the day he discovered he could no longer see his dick over his huge protruding belly.

Justin hadn't seen or heard Brian for what seemed like a long time. They'd finished dinner a while ago and Justin had been sitting on the couch just sketching. Brian had gone into the bedroom for something and that was the last time Justin had seen him. Justin had been distracted by his thoughts about where he wanted to fuck next, trying to think of at least one place in the loft where they hadn't done it yet. That's when it finally dawned on him that Brian had been gone too long.

"Brian? Where'd you go?" Justin called out from the couch.

There was no answer. Justin threw down his drawing pad and vaulted to his feet in an immediate panic. Something must be wrong. Why wasn't Brian answering? Where was he? It wasn't that far from the couch to the bedroom. Brian wasn't there. Justin slid open the bathroom door, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

Only to find Brian standing there, straddling the toilet with his pants around his ankles and his head leaning against his arms which were crossed and propped against the wall behind the john. What Justin could see of the beautiful masculine face was drenched with tears. Brian's shoulders were heaving with giant, anguished sobs.

"Oh my god, Brian. What happened? What's wrong," Justin demanded, panic-stricken and already sure it had to be something absolutely horrible.

"I-I-I c-c-can't seeee it!" Brian sobbed out almost indescipherably.

"What? What is it, Brian? Is it the baby. Are you hurt?" Justin had assumed the worst. "Tell me, Brian."

Brian shook his head but didn't lift it from the cradle of his arms. He was now wailing so loudly that Justin couldn't make out the few words that the clearly inconsolable man was trying to gasp out. The smaller man reached up and tried to pry Brian's face from where it was muffled against an elbow, but Brian fought him. Justin didn't know what to do. He was terrified but he didn't know if he should try to get Brian to move or just leave him there and call for emergency services.

Not knowing what else to do, Justin reached over and gently raised up the long tails of Brian's shirt that were hanging down low enough to hide most of his ass as well as his stomach in front. Justin was sure he was going to see some horror - blood, something, he didn't know what. But he had to look.

He found . . . Nothing. Or at least nothing out of the ordinary. Just Brian, still standing there without pants. His lovely big round belly seemingly just as big and round as it had been before dinner. There was, thankfully, no blood. So. . . Why was Brian crying so miserably?

Justin rubbed the palm of his hand up and down Brian's back under the shirt, trying to calm him enough to figure out how to help him. It took a while, but after a minute or two, Brian finally lifted up his head enough that Justin could understand what the man was trying to say.

"I-I-I went to piss . . . *sob* . . . And I looked down . . . *sniffle* . . . And I couldn't see it . . . *whine*. . . And even . . . Even when I bend over . . . I can't see it. . . *wail* . . . Justin . . . *sob, sniffle, sigh* . . . I'm too f-f-fat to see my own Dick!" *Wail, wail, wail!*

And, with that, Brian turned and collapsed, wailing, into a dazed and pissed off Justin's arms. The angry little blond wanted to just drop him to the tile floor, but instead he restrained himself enough to carefully seat the big wailing baby on the toilet. Then Justin slapped Brian upside the head in an almost perfect imitation of Debbie Novotny.

"You ass!" Justin shouted at the sobbing pathetic heap of brunet cringing on the toilet. "I thought there was something really wrong. You had me scared shitless. I thought . . . I thought you'd lost the baby or something. You god damned, fucking, pompous, vain, annoying . . . jerk. You scared me to death just because you're getting fat? Aaaaarrrghhhh!"

Brian was so startled by this response that he stopped crying. He looked up at the fuming mad blond, completely perplexed. Justin was now pacing back and forth in the tiny space allowed by the small bathroom - which meant he could only take about a step and a half before he had to turn around. The pale alabaster skin was turned purple-red with utter rage. He was grumbling under his breath but all Brian could make out was the occasional 'pain-in-the-fucking-ass', 'ridiculous', 'demanding', 'selfish' and 'pathetic', all of which were being repeated often in various combinations and with varying levels of contempt. There were waves of angry heat wafting off the small blond body and Brian would not have been surprised to see actual steam coming out of the cute little shell-like ears.

Then Brian happened to turn to the side enough to get a glimpse of his own red, tear-stained countenance in the mirror. He looked down and saw his swollen belly hunched over his bare thighs and his pants still strangling his ankles. Fuck! Justin was right! He was pathetic and ridiculous. How the fuck did he end up like . . . Like THIS?

But, instead of pulling up more tears, the absolutely ludicrous situation seemed hilariously funny to Brian. Him bawling his eyes out because he was too pregnant to see his own dick, Justin so incensed and passionate that he was pacing in the fucking bathroom and Brian sitting there on the toilet in a mess of snot and tears without his pants on. He didn't think there'd ever been a MORE pathetic scene ever in the history of mankind. They were a fucking mess! THEY were going to be parents soon? Fuck! This just had to be a huge-assed cosmic joke!

Brian chuckled. His sad face cracked into a grin. He chortled. He even giggled. And, when Justin subsequently looked down on him with contempt at his inappropriate response, Brian laughed out loud. Justin looked even angrier for about two heartbeats and then the youth stopped pacing and smiled too. Brian cackled even louder and then actually doubled up laughing so hard he fell off the toilet. Justin had been trying to resist joining in on this inappropriate laughing, but when Brian sprawled on the tile floor, writhing in almost painful, breathless laughter, he couldn't help it.

"Fuck, Brian." Justin complained, then he sank down onto his haunches on the tile floor next to his whooping, snorting, convulsing partner.

When they both finally stopped laughing, they got up and went to bed, where they made love, inciting even more laughter since, even hard as a rock, Brian still couldn't see his own cock.

Chapter 35 - B4 Progress.

"Sunshine! Come celebrate!" Brian called out as he barreled through the door one afternoon in late July. "I've got a meeting with Armani NYC on August 15th!"

Justin tossed the spoon he was using to stir the soup he was making for dinner and jumped into Brian's arms. "That's fantastic, Brian! But, August 15th? That gives us less than a month to get everything done. Can we get it all finished by then?"

"We're going to have to, Sunshine. The VP of Marketing who's in charge of all the US advertising is leaving two days later for a three week vacation overseas. I don't want to leave it till September. What if I can't travel or something. It's now or never." Brian insisted as he popped the cork on a bottle of something fizzy.

"I don't know," Justin replied, accepting a glass of sparkling cider as he surveyed his partner with a critical artistic eye. "I'd say you're only at about the Casaba Melon stage. I was hoping to wait till you were at least Crenshaw, if not full-on watermelon."

"You and the rest of the world are going to have to take me as I am, Sunshine. So, let's get the Armani presentation finished up first. Then I can sit around on my ass and vegetate until I turn into a watermelon. Cheers!"

"To B4," Justin toasted and clinked glasses with Brian.

"B4!" Brian echoed. "Now, first thing is to get Stitch going on that new double breasted wool suit that he said he could get even though the fall collection doesn't come out for another three weeks. I'll probably need two or three things from the Armani Exchange casual collection too. I hope Stitch can do it."

"So far, that man has worked miracles. I don't see having to get three new outfits for you three weeks before they’re released being a problem," Justin added reassuringly. "Who are you going to get as the photographer. It has to be someone you can trust."

"I think I'm going to use the same guy we used on the CK shoot. He seemed like a nice guy. His pictures were fabulous and I'll have legal draft up some airtight confidentiality agreement that'll seal him in so tight that if he leaks a word about what we're doing, I'll own his balls,"

"Ah, yes. The 'Castration Clause'. The most important part of any business contract," Justin teased as he sipped his cider, giggling at his partner's vicious streak when it came to business.

"You better believe it, Sunshine," Brian replied, chuckling himself. "The timing is going to be critical on this project. If anybody leaks any part of it too early, it might not work. But, I think we can trust this guy. Now, how's your Mom doing on the housing issue? We might need a place to hide out for a few weeks."

"She said she's got a few more listings for us to look over. I was going to meet her for breakfast, if you want to join us," Justin offered.

"Sounds good. Breakfast with Mother Taylor and then lunch with Stitch the Tailor. It's a plan, Sunshine!" Brian swallowed the rest of his cider and then took away Justin's glass too. "But, for now, Pretty Boy, I can think of a much better way to celebrate. So, get your pretty little blond boy ass up to bed and be ready by the time I get there. I may not be able to find my dick any more, but I've noticed you don't have that problem."

"I'm more than willing to go on an exploratory mission to see what I can find, Captain," Justin offered a mock salute and then scrambled away, trying to avoid the spanking that Brian was set on administering to the insubordinate, joking youth.

Brian chased the pesky blond imp up the stairs. Pesky Boy somehow managed to peel off his clothes in midair so that by the time he hit the sheets, he was gloriously naked. Brian was a tad bit slower these days, so he'd only managed to pull off his shirt in the same amount of time. But that was all the incentive the Pesky Imp needed. One glance at that sexy, round melon belly and The Imp had to have him.

Brian started to lean over the bed, intending to plant a tender, sweet kiss on the bowed coral pink lips of his Imp. It wasn't going to happen though. The Imp, mad with Baby-Daddy lust, grabbed a hold of Brian's belt as he leaned down and pulled the larger man down, using the impetous of his forward motion to roll them both over. They ended up with Brian lying flat on his back and The Mischievous Imp straddling his thighs.  

"Fuck, Brian," The Imp moaned as he stretched across the belly to reach for supplies from the nearby nightstand. "You're so fucking hot. I can't take it. You've GOT to stop teasing me like this. If you get any more fucking beautiful I'm just going to spontaneously combust some day when you walk into the room."

Brian would have laughed at the sappy, over-the-top statements, but before he could get in a single word, Justin had molded himself over the ripe, full belly and was kissing and biting at Brian's lips, sucking his tongue and literally taking his breath away. The Stud was duly distracted and couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than kiss the little Imp back. So he did.

"I'm going to ride you, Brian," the Imp averred when he finally let go his grasp on Brian's mouth. "I'm going to ride you so fucking hard. And while I'm riding you, I'm going to rub my hard cock all over this beautifully hard, round, bulging belly. And I'm going to cum all over you. This is mine. This is all mine," the lusty Imp kept chanting as his hands roamed over and over Brian's swollen abdomen.

Somewhere in between the chanting of 'Mine, Mine, Mine', Justin got the condom unfurled onto the studly proud cock which was already standing up and leaning against Brian's belly, waiting for attention. Then the Pesky Imp opened the top of a nearby plastic jar and dug out a huge handful of the expensive Vitamin E lotion that Brian had been slathering on his stomach nightly in an attempt to ward off the dreaded 'Stretch Marks'. Foregoing the regular lube, that Imp Justin simply stroked the lotion down the length of Brian's hard cock and then impaled himself. With what was left of the slick rich lotion, he started rubbing Brian's belly, working the lotion into the taut smooth skin, as his body rose and fell, working Brian's cock deeper and deeper inside himself.

Then Justin leaned forward, adjusting his position until the perfectly hard rod inside him angled precisely into the soft bundle of nerve tissue that caused fireworks to go off in his brain. All the while, Justin's own stout cock was caught between their bodies, smearing the lotion around, sliding and stroking across Brian's extended belly. The dual sources of friction were driving the Lusty Imp crazy. His ride became faster and faster. From Brian's perspective below, Justin looked dazzling, his face aglow with pleasure and his wanton body dripping with pearls of sweat as he carried them both along to a glorious climax.

The exhausted blond Imp collapsed forward, his body draped protectively around the solid dome of Brian's baby bump, their bodies glued together with sticky pools of cooling cum. Justin was panting heavily and holding onto the body under him as if he feared it would vanish at any second. when Brian's softening cock started to slide out, the boy moaned.

"I wish you never had to leave," came the sleepy, sated voice as the still needy lips kissed their way along somewhere down by Brian's side. "I wish you could stay inside me forever. The same way a little bit of me is still inside you . . ."

"I'll always be there, Sunshine. Ever since that first night. No matter who you're ever with, I'll always be there."

"Mmmmm. I know. It's true. You always have been," Justin purred as his kisses moved up towards Brian's navel. " I love you, Brian. I love you, Baby. I love you both so much . . ."

*Hehehe* Brian chuckled and squirmed a bit under Justin.

"Don't laugh at me. It's true, you jerk," Justin nipped at the belly in mild reproof.

"I wasn't. Just . . . Say something else."

"What? That I love you. That you're even sexier now than when I first met you. That I'm a kinky little fucker who gets off on rubbing your big round hard mellon belly. . ."

*Hahaha* "It worked," Brian exclaimed with a touch of awe. "When you talk, the baby kicks. He likes your voice."

"Really? That's so cool. I wish I could feel it."

"You will soon enough, Sunshine," Brian smiled down at the bright happy face looking back at him with such adoration it almost hurt. "Soon enough."

########BBBBB#######

"I don't know, Mom," Justin commented as he looked through a stack of real estate listings Jennifer had selected for them. "All these houses just . . . Look like houses. Nothing here really stands out."

Justin passed each one on to Brian as he finished scanning it. Brian wasn't exactly impressed either. Jennifer Taylor kept trying to direct them towards what Brian suspected she would want in a house. Each one was a little piece of suburban heaven - but in his mind they all equated to hell.

"Let's face it, Mother Taylor," Brian interrupted, shoving the stack of photos and facts back towards the petite blonde. "All these places are just too 'Normal'. And, we're," Brian indicated himself and Justin and ended pointing at his midsection, "never going to be 'Normal'. At least not what qualifies as such for most people. I don't think we'd fit in at any of these places."

"Well. . . " Jennifer started to dig in her briefcase which was leaning against the leg of her chair. "I did just get in a new listing yesterday, and it's definitely not your 'Normal' house. I just didn't think you'd be interested. Its only a few blocks away from where Debbie lives now. But, it needs some work."

Jennifer pulled the folder she was looking for out of her bag and handed it to Justin. The realtor looked nervous as she handed it over - Brian wasn't sure if she was nervous because she thought they wouldn’t like the house, or because they would. Brian peeked over Justin's shoulder so they could view the listing together. The picture showed a very old, white clapboard structure with three large, arched stained glass windows in front, a double door painted bright red and . . . a steeple.

"It's a fucking church!" Brian exclaimed a little loudly for the tiny breakfast cafe where they were sitting.

"It WAS a church," Jennifer corrected him. "It was originally built in 1835 as a Methodist church. But, due to decreased church attendance, the archdiocese closed it down about fifteen years ago and had it deconsecrated. It's been through a number of different owners since then. The last owner was a builder who bought the place to remodel for himself. Unfortunately, he got involved in a large sub-development scandal and went bankrupt before he finished the renovations. Because its unfinished, and because of the bankruptcy, it's being sold for pennies on the dollar compared to what it's really worth."

"What's it like inside?" Brian asked, intrigued by the uniqueness of the idea.

"It's huge," Jennifer rushed to explain, showing them more pictures as they talked. "The main room has these thirty foot vaulted ceilings. The last owner added an addition to the back where he was planning on putting in a master bedroom and bath. He already did a major plumbing and electrical upgrade on the whole place. There's already a couple of existing rooms in the back, old offices and such, that could be used as additional bedrooms or a nursery. And there's a full basement that could be a great rec room. But, the kitchen area is only rough framed and so is the addition in the back. . . The contractor I talked to said it would take 8-12 weeks to complete.

"That would be cutting things awfully close, Brian," Justin cautioned.

"Yeah, but I bet we could get him to work faster if we threw enough money at it. . . " Brian replied as he looked through the listing again. "What do you think, Sunshine? Wouldn't it be simply decadent for two fags like us to live in a church? My mother would fucking faint! It could be fun."

"Why not. We can at least look at it and see," Justin shrugged his agreement with the idea. "It's got great potential from an artistic standpoint. And, see up here where they had the choir loft? It's nice and open and with a skylight it would probably make a great studio space."

"Mother Taylor," Brian said with a smile, slapping the listing folder down onto the table. "You might have a winner here. Now, I'm starving. Where was that waitress?"

Chapter 36 - The Problem with Chiefy.

Brian had thought he was getting so good at the monthly doctor appointment thing. Justin took care of all the arrangements. Brian showed up, pissed in a cup, they weighed him and then Chiefy told him what a good boy he'd been for eating like such a pig. Then they did something spectacular for the media and went home. No problem. Brian had this all figured out. Right?

And, it was all working out that way this time, as well. At least at first. Only, he hadn't apparently eaten like enough of a pig. He'd gained less than his required four pounds. Chiefy gave him a big lecture and Daphne and Justin frowned at him. He wished they would just cut him a little slack. He was less than a half pound away from their goal. It wasn't like he was trying to starve himself or anything. Hell, he'd gained almost twenty fucking pounds already. Wasn't enough, enough? Fine, he promised he'd cut back a bit on the exercise.

Then, Chiefy started discussing all the stuff he DIDN'T want to think about, let alone hear, and Brian started to freak out again.

It started off tame enough - gross, but not too scary. Chiefy explained about edema, which meant he might retain water and his ankles would swell. Ick! But, Brian figured he could deal with that if he had to. Then she just went insane and started telling him about urinary tract infections, backaches, preterm labor and something that sounded very yucky and vaguely scary called preeclampsia. There was something he needed to watch out for called Braxton-Hicks contractions that sounded painful. There were more tests to come - Rh Negative antibody screening, a Streptococcus B Infection test and a glucose challenge test. If he failed any of these it would mean he'd have to get more shots and tests and come to the doctor more frequently.

But all that was nothing. He could handle all of that if he had to. What he wasn't ready to think about, and what Chiefy insisted on bringing up for discussion, was how they were going to get the god damned thing out of him.

Brian had pretty much come to grips with the fact that he was some sort of weird genetic aberration. He and maybe ten other men in the history of the world had managed to get pregnant. So then, if the genetics had somehow fucked up enough that he could get pregnant, why hadn't they also figured out a way to get the damned baby out of him?

Brian had scrupulously avoided learning anything about THAT part of this whole deal. He had stopped reading all the books and articles when they'd started to talk about 'Labor'. He didn't want to think about it. It was insane. He'd accepted the concept of being pregnant but that was as far as he'd been willing to take it. The part that came after 'being pregnant' was a blank that he wanted to know nothing about.

Then, fucking Chiefy had to go and ruin everything by bringing the whole issue up, completely without warning, so he had no way to block out the unwanted information.

And it turned out to be pretty much everything Brian had feared. Shitty genetics had got him pregnant but hadn't come up with a GOOD way to get the baby out. It turns out men just didn't have the right equipment. No shit! The only solution was a Caesarian Section. They'd have to cut the little parasite out of him. Figures!

So when Chiefy started to bring up issues like getting his Will updated now, just in case, and preparing an Advanced Directive for the hospital as well as a Birthing Plan, Brian started to feel faint again. Didn't she fucking know this shit wasn't good for his blood pressure! He WAS fucking pregnant. Why the fuck was she bringing this shit up now?

Brian really didn't like hospitals in the first place. He figured he'd been doing really well coming here at all over the past few months. But the very idea of Labor or Surgery was completely out of the fucking question. He couldn't do it. Fuck this! Brian was NOT going to do this!

"Brian? Where are you going," Justin asked when the subject of the discussion got up and almost ran towards the door. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No! I'm not fucking feeling okay. I have to get out of here!" Brian managed to pant out as his sweaty hands ineffectively slid off the metal door knob. "Let me the FUCK out of here!"

It took the combined efforts of both Chiefy and Justin to get Brian back into his chair at that point. Daphne was almost as freaked out at the sight of the imperturbable Brian losing it as the man himself was. When Justin had finally coaxed him back to the chair and Chiefy had ordered a portable oxygen tank brought in to ward off the hyperventilation, they warily waded back into the issue of labor and delivery.

"You didn't read about that part in the materials I gave you, Brian?" Chiefy asked incredulously. "How did you think the baby would be born?"

"No. I didn't fucking read that part. I didn't think about it at all." Brian huffed through the plastic mask. "I don't WANT to think about it!"

"I'm afraid you're going to HAVE to think about it Brian. In less than three months, give or take a couple weeks, that baby's going to want to be born. You don't really have much choice about it now," Chiefy said condescendingly.

"It's okay, Brian," Justin asserted quietly with conviction. "He just needs a bit of time to adjust to the idea, Doctor. It's probably a good thing you brought it up now. This way we have lots of time to prepare. Brian doesn't like hospitals much . . ."

"I understand," The Chief replied. "Why don't you go sit and rest awhile in the reception area until you feel better. Just check in with me before you decide to leave so I can make sure you're okay."

So they walked Brian and his wheeled oxygen contraption out to a quiet corner of the waiting room and sat together, saying nothing, for about another half hour. When Brian's hand, which had been tightly gripping Justin's since they got him back into a chair, finally stopped trembling, Justin suggested they go.

"No. I can't. They'll . . . they'll see this," Brian gestured at himself, rumpled, sweaty, pale and definitely NOT the usual debonair Stud image he preferred.

"We could wait," Justin offered. "Or . . . I could just go out there by myself, talk to the reporters and then they'll all go away like usual and I can come back here and get you."

It probably said a lot about Brian's state of still near panic that he even contemplated the idea. Justin had never really been as good at manipulating the media as Brian. Justin was, at heart, a shy unassuming artist. He wasn't by any means the natural showman that Brian had always been. Would Justin be able to do it alone?

"Tell me - what are you going to say," Brian asked doubtfully.

"Ummm . . . Thanks for coming and . . . no comment?" Justin suggested.

"You have to do something - give 'em a show - distract them or they'll ask more questions," Brian explained.

"I . . . I don't know. You usually kiss me or something. . ." Justin was at a loss.

"Justin could kiss me!" Daphne interjected excitedly. "That would definitely throw them off!"

*hehehe* "Yep," Brian chuckled. "That should work perfectly. Fuck. I can just see the headlines . . . What do you think, Sunshine. Are you prepared to lock lips with a GIRL for the sake of rescuing my faltering reputation?"

"Sure," Justin shrugged but then looked dubiously at his best friend. "I guess I could kiss Daph."

"Gee! Thanks, Jus, for making it sound like such a horrible proposition. I'll have you know I've never yet had ANY complaints about my kissing," Daphne pouted.

"Yeah, and you've kissed how many guys? Including me and your cousin, that would be two," Justin teased.

"Shut up, you," Daph slugged him in the arm with all due affection. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yeah. I'm just kidding, Daph. What do you think, Brian? Will it work?" Justin asked his mentor.

"It should. Just . . . Make it look good," Brian added.

The two teens got up to go. They decided that after they put on their little act they'd go straight to the waiting car and then call Brian later when it was all clear. Maybe they'd even have the car drive around for a bit before coming back. Brian agreed and promised he would wait in the office for their return. Justin was the first to head out the door as soon as he was reassured that Brian wouldn't go anywhere till he came back. Brian waved him out the door, then grabbed Daphne and quickly whispered something that made the girl giggle and nod enthusiastically before she followed on her friend's heels.

Downstairs, Justin put on Daphne's baggy sweat shirt as camouflage before they headed out. The usual media group was already arranged around the planters full of flowers where Brian always set things up. Justin and Daphne headed over there a little hesitantly. There were definitely murmurs and whispers when it was noted that the tall brunet wasn't with the other two. Justin tried to look confident as he waved off their questions until he was in place.

*Ahem* "Ummm . . . Hi everybody. Uh, thanks for coming . . . Everybody having a nice afternoon? . . ." Justin was faltering, just about to give up.

Then, out of the blue, the petite, curly-headed girl who'd always been quiet as a mouse in these situations before, lunged at her blond friend, wrapped her arms around the boy and forcefully dipped him backwards, kissing away at the surprised youth for all she was worth. It took Justin a few seconds to catch on but then he started kissing her back - maybe not as passionately as he would have if it had been Brian who had attacked him, but good enough for the cameras.

There was a roar from the crowd. Then there were titters and giggles. Then the cameras went wild, flash going off every which way and the crowd whistling and shouting in approval. When Daph's back started to tire - Justin WAS a bit bigger than she was after all - she pulled them both up, smiled prettily for the cameras and said. "Mr. Taylor has no further comment. Bye, bye!"

Both teens laughed and then ran towards the waiting car, slipping inside just before the reporters could swarm. They told the driver to go as soon as they were seated. The reporters stood in the roadway behind them, looking excited and confused at the same time. Daph and Justin were laughing uproariously as they drove off, leaving them all thinking.

The two friends told the driver to just circle around for awhile. Then they decided to stop when they saw a Dairy Queen. They felt a little bad for getting ice cream without Brian, but figured if they got one for him it would probably just melt before they could get back to the hospital. Then Daph came up with the perfect solution by suggesting they just come back for more after they picked up the Prego Stud. After all, Brian needed his calories, right?

It was almost an hour later when the car pulled back around into the hospital driveway. From inside the darkened windows of the car, Justin and Daphne scanned the scene intently. When nobody had approached them after a full five minutes, they decided the coast was clear and hopped out to go get Brian.

Brian was impatiently waiting for them back in Chiefy's office. He seemed recovered from his panic attack earlier but he was bored and irritable and annoyed that he'd had to wait so long. Irritable Brian Syndrome was a very nasty condition, too. Justin only placated the grouchy Stud by promising him that they'd found this great little ice cream place that they could visit on the way home. Brian perked up a little bit.

As they headed back to the waiting car, the coast still seemed clear. Unluckily, there was still one die-hard journalist watching from the shadows of the nearby parking structure. Larry snapped a couple more photos but was really too far away to tell much about what was going on.

The only odd thing Lardy Larry could see was that the girl and the little blond seemed to be helping the big brunet into the car. Usually it was the small blond, Taylor, that everyone seemed to help. He smelled a rat, but couldn't quite see where the stinky little critter was hiding. He needed some more inside information. Maybe he could talk his buddy David into a little more spying?

Chapter 37 - The Big Launch.

Justin and Daphne spent the rest of the evening patiently walking Brian through how a C-Section worked. Daphne even showed him a very non-icky animated video that explained all the steps. It didn't look so bad on the video. Justin assured him that, most of the time, the parent was awake through the whole procedure - the doctor would just give him a local anesthetic - and that Justin could be there with him. Brian still wasn't completely reassured, but he was starting to be able to wrap his brain around the idea.

Luckily, just when Daphne's descriptions were starting to get too graphic for Brian's taste, Cynthia called him with several questions about the big CK launch party. Brian gratefully immersed himself in work so he could stop thinking about doctors and hospitals and blood. It was much easier to plan a critically important advertising campaign launch, supervise dozens of staff members, deal with the assorted problems and snafus that inevitably came up at the last minute and juggle around the millions of other details all that entailed than think about his own future.

Tomorrow, the Calvin Klein ad campaign he'd been working on for weeks would be launched nationwide in magazines and television spots. Then, tomorrow night, the agency was throwing a big party here in Pittsburgh to celebrate and market the new campaign. Brian and Ryder were taking a big risk by hosting the party in provincial Pittsburgh rather than New York or Los Angeles. But it was all part of the plan to get their little agency on the map in the world of fashion advertising. They wanted people to associate Pittsburgh with their ads. So, throwing a big, blowout party in the otherwise sleepy little burgh, was exactly what their strategy called for.

Brian actually ended up going back into the office and didn't get home that night till after 3:00 am. Then, the next morning, he was back up at nine, and on the phone by 9:15. With Cynthia assisting by doing her usual, beyond-spectacular job, everything was ready to go by mid-afternoon, and Brian made it back home in time to get in a quick 'nap' with Justin before they had to get ready for the party.

The launch party was being held at the elegant Fairmont Hotel in the heart of downtown Pittsburgh. There were events scheduled throughout the evening and most of the night, mostly focused in the large main ballroom, but with peripheral activities spread throughout the entire hotel. Between the out-of-town corporate executives, guest fashionistas from all the major fashion capitals of the world, reporters and fashion critics and everyone else involved, the Ryder event had booked up pretty much the entire hotel. It was set to be quite the event.

One of the little perks for Brian was that he got to invite all of his friends and family to party for the night on CK's dollar. He was looking forward to showing off a little in front of the gang. They all knew what he did for a living, but it was rare that any of them actually got a first hand glimpse of what Brian actually DID. He wouldn't mind if Mikey and the crew were a bit impressed with all the hoopla and the celebrities. Maybe they'd all finally give him a bit more credit the next time they set about judging him for something after they'd seen exactly what it was he could accomplish.

With all that pressure on him, even the unrufflable Brian Kinney was understandably a little nervous as he was getting ready for the party. In deference to his clients, Brian was wearing a classically cut 2-piece Linen Calvin Klein suit in a beautiful dove grey, with matching dove grey silk shirt and tie. He'd chosen the grey specifically, knowing that he'd be sure to stand out in the sea of black outfits that were most likely to show up this evening. Stitch had just finished with the final alterations to the suit that morning.

Brian, of course, looked dazzlingly handsome, but he was fidgeting around being super-critical of everything the entire time he and Justin were getting dressed. Justin was ready to kill him around about the third time Brian asked for reassurances that he didn't look 'fat'. He repeatedly informed his antsy companion that, not only did Brian NOT look fat, but as long as he kept the beautifully tailored jacket fastened, he didn't even look pregnant. Brian's plan was to stand perfectly poised most of the night, preferably not dancing or he'd get too hot and sweaty. This was the last big appearance he'd have to get through while trying to hide his secret. After tonight, they'd start to put B4 into effect and then . . . He just had to concentrate on getting through tonight.

Since he was hosting this gala event, Brian didn't get the option of showing up fashionably late this evening. The car service arrived promptly at 6:00 pm and ferried the Ad Exec and his 'date' for the evening - a HUGE concession Justin had won by simply refusing to help with the plans until Brian conceded that the night qualified as an official 'date' - to the Fairmont in good time. Brian oversaw the last of the preparations and then went up to the hospitality suite set aside for welcoming the most important of the guests.

To the credit of the Ryder Agency, and especially Brian Kinney, the event was a magnificent success. Considering the locale, the turnout was fantastic. There were big names from the fashion industry, minor celebrities galore, at least one borderline 'big' celebrity from New York and all the industry reporters and critics and other contacts you could want. And it was all going just like clockwork.

After the bigwigs were welcomed, wined and dined in the elaborately decked out hotel suite, the entire assembly was shown downstairs to the ball room, where the party itself was already underway. There was more alcohol being served, hunky topless waiters passing around hors d'oeuvres and trendy, up beat music. It was a great, diverse crowd - for Pittsburgh at least - and everybody was dressed to impress. Then the real show started.

Set throughout the ball room and even out into the hallway, there were several small, platform-type stages that had been stationed in highly visible spots. The contents of each stage were screened off by a tall silky-gold curtain held up by a circular brass curtain rod which was hung by wires linked to the ceiling. Starting at 9:00 pm, every twenty minutes or so, the background music would become hushed and an announcer would introduce one of the models that Brian had selected for this special campaign. As the man was introduced, one of the curtains would slowly descend, highlighted by a bright spotlight, revealing a slightly opaque paper surround decorated with pictures of that man in his everyday life - the doctor in his operating room, the policeman in his uniform, etc. Then, at the conclusion of each introduction, the lighting would shift and, instead of lights being shown on the outside illuminating the pictures on the surround, new lighting would turn on illuminating the stage from the inside, revealing the shadow of the man himself on the small stage. Finally, to a triumphant burst of music along with cheers and applause from the crowd, each man would break out of his everyday paper image and emerge in his Calvin Klein model persona - each dressed, or undressed in the case of the underwear models, in his designer best.

Each tableau was dramatic and expertly executed. It was perfect. Everyone loved the theatrical revelations. The already gorgeous men were all transformed from their less spectacular daily lives into the most beautiful models everyone had ever seen by the magical touch of Brian Kinney. It was a total triumph.

Brian was swamped by crowds of fawning, congratulatory people. Even those in the know like Ryder, who already knew what to expect, were impressed by the actual show. Cynthia followed her boss around with her tablet computer and made sure he always knew everyone's name and position so Brian could always greet each admirer by name. Then, after they finished fawning, she'd carefully note down contact info for everyone they'd be approaching later with other ad proposals. They made a great team.

Most of the night, Justin stood off to the side, hanging out with his and Brian's friends and admiring Brian from afar. Justin loved how masterfully Brian controlled everyone around him. It was . . . Erotic. He had big plans for how he would show his own appreciation to Brian later that night in the hotel suite reserved for them upstairs.

The gang had all shown up at the big event. Debbie and Vic came together, Debbie in a tastefully restrained (for her) long red sequined gown and Vic in a new suit, both courtesy of Brian. Michael had come with Dr. Dave as his escort. Mel and Lindsey had left Gus at home with a sitter, reserved a room for the night - which Brian had already secretly paid for - and were enjoying their 'adult time' immensely. Ted and Emmett were also there, spending most of their time getting to know the hot waiters and, whenever possible, the even hotter models. Even Jennifer Taylor and Daphne Chanders had been invited. Everyone was awed by Brian - seeing him, as it were, in his natural environment for the first time.

"Isn't this just amazing," Debbie was saying for the thousandth time as she watched Brian expertly working his way through the crowds. "I had no idea Brian knew all these important people. It's just like being in Hollywood, with the stars, or some shit!"

"This is definitely impressive for a place like the Pitts," Emmett agreed as he ogled another shirtless waiter who served him a shrimp ball.

"Who knew there were this many model-worthy guys in Our Fair City," Ted agreed as one of the CK campaign models walked past.

"Brian did, of course," Michael added, proud as always of his Best Friend's intimate knowledge of the city's male population.

"Do you think he's fucked ALL of them?" Mel snarled from behind her fouth martini. "Maybe that was one of the criteria for landing the job." The entire group, except for Justin, laughed along at the demeaning comment.

"Fuck you, Mel," Justin could no longer hold back his rebuke. "None of you guys have any clue how hard Brian's worked to get this all together, do you? You don't know how difficult it's been for him, how exhausted he is, especially with everything else going on right now. Can't you just be a little proud for him? Show him an iota of respect? Why do you always have to cut him down in the next breath after you give him any grudging credit? Fuck it!" Justin turned and started to walk away in disgust. "I don't think any of you will EVER get it!"

Justin stomped off in a piqué. "Jeez, I was just kidding," Mel said in conciliation.

"You know," Michael inserted into the embarrassed lull in the conversation, "Brian really has been looking tired lately. He does look exhausted. And . . . Well, I hate to say this, but . . . Do you guys think Brian's been . . . putting on some weight?"

The gang proceeded to a discussion of how Brian's trips to the gym had tapered off lately. There was also a full, detailed accounting of how many visits he'd made - or not made - to Babylon or the Baths in the past month. Nobody was paying any further attention to Brian's huge advertising triumph as they all weighed in on his personal life.

That was when the bells and whistles started to go off in David Cameron's brain. As soon as Brian's weight was mentioned, it all became perfectly clear! David started to remember back to that time, months ago, when Brian had experienced those horrible cramps at Deb's dinner. Then he recalled Michael's descriptions of Brian puking his guts out for several days, the snippets of conversation he'd overheard, the time he'd been face-on with Brian's oddly extended gut and then Justin's touching caress of Brian's midsection. Brian and Justin's JOINT trips to the doctor's office now made sense. So did Justin's adamant assertions that HE wasn't pregnant.

The only thing that had misled David was the absolute knowledge that Brian Kinney was a complete and total TOP. Everyone KNEW Brian never bottomed. It was part and parcel of the legend of Brian Kinney. It was so well known that nobody ever even doubted that fact anymore.

But . . . What if . . . What if Brian WASN'T an EXCLUSIVE top? What if he'd let Justin . . . No! That couldn't be! Little Justin? The cute little blond boy toy? No fucking way . . . But, then, why did Brian do a complete 180 and let the boy move in with him. Why had they seemed practically inseparable lately. Why had Justin kept talking about all the stress Brian was in LATELY . . . It just couldn't be . . . But . . .

David looked up at the main stage at the back of the ballroom. The last model had just been introduced and, as he was walking down the steps of his little private stage, the lights on the big stage came up. All the previously introduced models were posed on the big stage. As the last model approached and assumed his position, the music reached a crescendo and the announcer blared, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly introduced to you, the Calvin Klein Mens' Fall line!"

The crowd was going wild, clapping and yelling enthusiastically at the beautiful panoply of gorgeous men in beautiful designer clothes. The spotlights were zooming around the stage, occasionally pausing on one individual. Everything was impeccably displayed. It was perfect. The critics were internally raving and already planning their overwhelmingly appreciative reviews.

After several minutes of applause, Brian Kinney, tonight's triumphant host, emerged from the wings of the stage. He waved and smiled at the crowd. He beamed and applauded his models and then invited Ryder and the CK executives to join him on stage. Finally, Brian reached down into the crowd of people lining the stage, grasped Justin Taylor's hand and pulled the boy up onto the stage by his side. Justin was beaming his Sunshine smile at the public, totally enraptured by Brian's unaccustomed public display of affection. The young man stared lovingly up at the taller brunet whose arm went instinctively around his shoulders and then, made a completely unconscious gesture that was utterly obvious if you knew what to look for.

Justin reached out his left hand and, in front of hundreds of people, including Dr. David Cameron, the only person there who suspected the truth, gently caressed Brian Kinney's stomach, briefly molding the folds of the camouflaging jacket around a distictively rounded belly.

#######BBBB#######

Chapter 38 - The Launch Retro Burn.

Brian made his way down off the stage. He was holding Justin's hand and they were both grinning like a couple of kids as they approached the area where the Liberty Avenue gang was standing. It took a few minutes for them to get there, though, since Brian was still being accosted every step of the way by people congratulating him on the successful evening.

"So! Is everybody having a good time?" Brian asked as soon as he made it over to his friends.

"Everything is so wonderful, Brian," Lindsey gushed, leaning in to kiss Brian on the cheek. "You're definitely going to put little old Pittsburgh on the map with this big splash."

"That WAS the idea. But I can't take all the credit," Brian uncharacteristically added as he looked down fondly at his blond companion. "I did have a bit of help from a certain young artist we all know. Justin was behind the idea for the models to break out from behind the pictures of them in their usual daily lives. There's a big brain hidden somewhere under this cute little blond exterior." Brian teasingly ruffled Justin's hair like he was a child, which resulted in him being punched in the arm before the bigger man could wrap his arms around the boy.

"Oh, Justin," Jennifer cooed in her proud mother hen guise. "You didn't say that any of this was your work."

"It isn't. Not really. Tonight is all Brian's. All I did was help him tweak his own amazing ideas a little. Brian should get all the credit for tonight. He's worked hard enough for it," Justin proudly insisted.

"And he'll definitely be getting credit for it with me!" Marty Ryder broke into the conversation, escorting two other people into the group beside him. "Sorry to intrude, Brian," Marty said. "Before you head off with your friends for the rest of the evening, I want you to meet a couple more people."

"This is Scarlet Neill, an assistant editor at GQ magazine - she's going to be your liaison for the interview your models are doing next week for the GQ September issue," Ryder said as he presented a pixyish young woman who had the brightest red hair Brian had ever seen.

"And this behemoth here," Ryder gestured to the huge man standing on his other side, "is Drew Boyd, the quarterback for the Pittsburgh Ironmen and your next CK model for their new sportswear line, which you will be starting on first thing Monday morning. Better get some rest this weekend." Ryder patted his star executive on the shoulder and then excused himself to go schmooze with other VIP types.

"Ms. Neill. Mr. Boyd," Brian said politely as he shook hands with both the newcomers.

"Call me Drew, please," the towering football player insisted. "From what I hear, we're going to be spending a shitload of time together whenever I'm in town between games for the next few months, so we might as well be on a first name basis."

"Drew it is, then," Brian responded, laughing a bit as he shook the man's huge hand - especially when Drew's grip held on just a second or two longer than necessary and Brian's gaydar started pinging away wildly. "Drew, I want you to meet some of my friends. This is Ted, Emmett and Michael," Brian said, indicating the three salivating queers who were so blatantly ogling the big man's bulging biceps. "Boys, do you mind showing Drew here around for a minute or two while I have a quick word with Miss Scarlet?"

"We don't mind in the least, do we," Emmett insisted as he assumed the role of hostess, snaking his arm through Boyd's and deftly leading the big hunk away, not bothering to look back to see if any of his friends followed.

Everybody else was laughing heartily at the way the flamboyant queen had just intercepted the quarterback so expertly.

"If you'll excuse us for a second," Brian muttered to his friends as he started to guide the little red-haired pixie and his favorite blond-haired boy away from the group.

"Kinney," David stopped them with a sneering smile just before Brian and his group could step away. "You will be back, won't you? I've got something I need to talk to you about tonight before you leave."

"Sure, Doc," Brian said, not really paying much attention to Michael's date and completely missing the nasty look David was shooting at him. "Later, though. Now, Justin. Ms. Scarlet. Why don't we go find someplace quieter to talk . . ."

"What do you think that was all about," Michael complained as soon as Brian had led his group away. "I wish Brian could actually spend some time with us. I was hoping we'd maybe, finally, get to see him a little tonight. It's been ages since he's hung out with us. And what's with Boy Wonder trotting around at Brian's heels everywhere like a puppy dog? Doesn't Brian get to go anywhere anymore without his little blond boy toy?"

"I think, Michael," David said snidely, "you might have it backwards. I'd rethink who is the boy toy in that pair. You know how you were saying before about Brian putting on some weight? Well, I think . . ."

"Excuse me," interrupted one of the CK models. "Are you Michael? Brian Kinney told me to come speak with you. I'm Ben Bruckner and I'm a professor . . ."

"We know!" Michael exclaimed eagerly, eyeing the handsome man appreciatively. "We all heard your introduction. You work at Carnegie Mellon?"

"That's right. I forget that, since I agreed to do this gig for Brian, my life's now an open book," the big, beefy, dirty-blond man said as he laughed good naturedly at himself, smiling down at the boyish brunet and pointedly ignoring the older man standing behind Michael. "Anyway, Brian said YOU are the expert around here to talk to about comic books. See, I'm doing some research into homoerotic images in popular culture . . ."

As soon as the words 'comic books' were out of Ben's mouth, he had all of Michael's rapt attention. At the same instant, David's eyes started to glaze over. David was certain that if he had to listen to even one more minute of Michael obsessing over another comic hero, he'd scream. The only thing more annoying than his boyfriend's obsession with comic books was his obsession with Brian Kinney. But David thought he might have some news that would knock a hole in that hero worshiping fantasy. He could wait till later to spring his big news on Michael. And he decided not to follow when Ben and Michael moved off so they could talk somewhere quieter. David had some calls to make while Michael was being kept busy.

##############BBBBBB#############

"Thanks, Scarlet," Brian was saying as the trio walked back into the main room several minutes later. "Just hold that inside front cover for me, okay."

"Sure thing, Brian. For an exclusive like this I'd do a lot more than just give you dibs on my cover," the magazine executive gushed, obviously excited by whatever deal she'd worked out with Brian.

"I'm meeting with the client in New York on the fifteenth to pitch the idea. I'll let you know then. If everything works out, I'll even let you buy Justin and me dinner to celebrate," Brian offered with a gorgeous smirk, causing the little pixie to smile as she was overcome by the Kinney charm.

Brian nodded goodbye and steered Justin back towards their friends. Justin couldn't wait though and jumped up to steal a kiss as soon as Scarlet had turned away. "Yes! This is going to be perfect, Brian! Absolutely perfect. I can't wait!" Justin was bouncing up and down and kissing the handsome brunet's face with every hop.

"Down boy! Down," Brian pretended to scold the enthusiastic youth. "I still have to win the Armani account first. It doesn't do me any good to have a spot for the ad if I don't have the client."

"Of course you'll win the account, Brian. They'd be insane to turn this down," Justin confidently assured his cautious partner.

"Whatever. Now, that's enough work for tonight, Sunshine," Brian declared, turning off the Ad Exec inside him. "Let's find the guys and get this party started. I need to celebrate a little. Now, where has everybody gone?"

#########BBBBB#########

"I'm telling you, Larry. It's the only thing that makes sense," David was speaking loudly into his cell phone, trying to be heard over the noise of all the partygoers in the hallway outside the ballroom. "No . . . No, I don't have any proof, but all the evidence leads to Kinney . . . I know I said the same thing before about Taylor, but this is different. I'm sure this time . . . What kind of proof do you need? . . . Aren't you the one with the camera skills, Larry? I can't get caught taking pictures of him . . ."

David was walking back and forth at the end of the hallway as he listened to whatever directions he was getting over the phone. He seemed to be completely wrapped up in his conversation and wasn't paying much attention to the streams of people walking past him in and out of the main ballroom. Which is why he probably didn't notice when Michael and Ben, wrapping up their discussion about comics, approached on their way back from the hotel lobby.

"Thank you so much, Michael. This is going to be a big help," Ben was saying as he squeezed the smaller man's shoulder in gratitude. "So, I'll see you tomorrow for coffee at two and you'll bring those examples for me?"

"Well, I can try my contact at the doctor's office again, Larry, but he's clammed up a lot lately. They're really cracking down on him - trying to cut off all the leaks that have been getting out to the press. I don't know how much help he'll be . . ." David was saying, his voice raised angrily and his back temporarily turned towards the hallway so that he had no idea who was listening. "What do you expect me to do? Break in and steal the hospital records? I want to get Kinney as much as you do, Larry - more, probably - but I'm not going to land myself in jail just so you can get the next tabloid exclusive!"

David ended the call and then turned around, only to find an incredulous Michael, backed up by the muscular Ben, standing in astonishment before him.

"David? What the hell are you doing? Who were you talking to? And, why did you say you wanted to GET Brian?" Michael asked, confused by the obvious hatred he'd heard in his boyfriend's tone directed at his friend.

"Michael, I-I-I . . . I didn't know you were there," David stuttered, at a loss to explain his prior conversation.

"That's obvious! Who the hell were you talking to and what's all this about stealing hospital records," Michael demanded.

"Who's stealing medical records?" Brian interjected as he and Justin came up behind the other three men.

"I think your friend, David, here," Ben added, looking contemptuously at the red-faced older man who was now, literally and figuratively, backed into a corner. "From what I overheard, he was on the phone with some reporter and it sounded like he was discussing stealing your records from the hospital, Brian. I'm pretty sure that violates a lot of different local and federal laws, though."

"I never said that!" David asserted from his spot where he'd been wedged into the corner of the hallway between the back wall and a decorative table adorned with a large floral display.

"That's what I heard, too, David," Michael insisted. "Why would you . . ."

"Why, Michael? You want to know why?" David angrily snapped back at his boyfriend. "Maybe because I'm sick and tired of listening to you go on and on about Brian this and Brian that. From the way you talk about him, you'd think Brian Kinney was another one of your fucking comic book superheroes. I'd love to have just ONE conversation with you where the name 'Brian' doesn't pop up at least a dozen times. And I thought, if you heard the truth about your idol, here, maybe I'd finally get some peace and quiet!"

"And what TRUTH is that, Doc?" Brian asked in a sarcastic drawl dripping with contempt. "Oh, and before you answer that, keep in mind that I'd be more than happy to report to the Chief of Obstetrics at Allegheny General, exactly how private healthcare information was being leaked from her office."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Kinney. You're not even my patient. I don't have any responsibility to you." David insisted.

"Really? Well, I admit I'm not an expert in medical privacy laws, Dr. Cameron," Brian continued condescendingly. "But, I don't really have to be. It's you who'll have to spend your time trying to convince the federal investigators about that. And, in the meantime, when word gets out to all those high profile patients you treat - all those Penguins and Pirates and Ironmen . . . you know, the ones that make your practice so lucrative - well, when word gets out that you can't be trusted to keep their medical information private, it won't really matter much. Now will it?"

"Fuck you, Kinney!"

"Don't you wish!" Brian laughed derisively. "Now, David, why don't you just take yourself and all those 'truths' you think you know and get the hell out of here before I have security throw you out. And if you say anything more, to anyone, I'll be letting my new buddy, Drew Boyd, who I believe IS one of your patients, know exactly how much you can be trusted."

"But . . . but . . . Fine! Whatever you say, Kinney. But this isn't over. You can't hide forever. Come on, Michael. Let's get out of here," David ordered as he shouldered his way out through the crowd of onlookers.

"I don't think so, David," Michael answered quietly.

"Michael?" David questioned.

But his boyfriend simply shook his head sadly and moved off, heading back into the main room, trailed protectively by a certain big, hunky college professor who just happened to be smiling smugly at the devastated, deserted chiropractor.

David Cameron turned and stormed off, leaving the hotel in a towering rage, already trying to work out a way to get back at Brian Kinney.

Chapter 39 - Who's On Top?

"Fuck! How did he figure it out? How?" Justin demanded under his breath as they walked together back into the main ballroom. "We're so fucking close, Brian. Why now? Fucking Dr. Dave couldn't have waited just a couple more weeks? How did he know?"

"It doesn't matter how he figured it out," Brian replied calmly, smiling and nodding to other guests as they passed. "I'm actually surprised I've skated by this long. I mean, come on. Great tailor or not, no self-respecting fag is going to gain twenty pounds in less than five months and NOT be the subject of gossip. Dr. Dave isn't stupid - I'm sure he just put it all together. But, I'm not worried. He doesn't have any proof. If he did, he wouldn't have backed down that easy."

"I don't know, Brian . . . "

"Yeah, well I do. Now, stop worrying your pretty little blond head. I've got this handled," Brian ordered, pulling Justin to him for a nice long, tongue-filled kiss. "Off you go, now. Go play with your Mommy and your fag hag. I'm just going to finish things up here. I'll kiss a few more asses, stroke a couple of egos and then say my goodbyes. Then, if you're a good boy, Sunshine, I'll take you up to our suite and let you stroke me and kiss MY ass." Brian gave his co-conspirator one last squeeze, grabbing his ass and pulling the length of Justin's body hard against his own, then bit him playfully on the nose before walking away into the sea of guests.

"Everything okay, Jus?" Daphne knocked shoulders with him.

"I don't know Daph," Justin admitted as he watched Brian saunter away. "I can't wait till all the stress of having to keep everything quiet is over."

"It won't be long now," Daphne reassured him. "He looks gorgeous in that suit, but, well . . . If you know what to look for, you can tell. Like it or not, Brian's running out of time."

Justin silently agreed but still hoped that Brian would get the opportunity to reveal himself in his own time and in his own style. It was going to be difficult enough for the macho stud to deal with the fall out from people finding out HE was pregnant. If Brian was forced into some grudging admission, it would put a big damper on the rest of the pregnancy. But, if B4 worked the way they envisioned it, Brian would be 'coming out' in style and probably end up the envy of every gay man on the planet, rather than some neutered laughingstock from the Pitts.

Daphne dragged Justin off to dance to help get his mind off things while Brian schmoozed the remaining people he needed to schmooze. It was already after one am before the party started to die down. Debbie and Vic had left a while ago, followed almost immediately by Jennifer Taylor. Nobody had seen hide nor hair of Emmett in over an hour - and surprise, surprise, Drew Boyd hadn't been seen in a while either. Mel and Lindz were lip locked together in a dark corner making out like teenagers thanks to a surfeit of martinis. Which left only Ted, Michael and the hunky Ben Bruckner, sipping drinks and talking animatedly in the lobby.

Brian finished saying goodnight to the last of the VIPs and then gave a few directions to the head of the clean up staff. He found Justin with the boys and Daphne in the lobby. The man looked utterly exhausted as he shuffled up to the group, trying in vain to hide a yawn. Brian had been on the go for going on twenty hours straight, and that after a long and busy week. For once Justin thought his partner looked his age - and maybe a little more. It was definitely time to drag his prego ass off to bed.

Before Brian could get embroiled in another long drawn out goodbye with their friends, Justin jumped to his feet and blocked Brian's approach with his body. "Excuse us, guys, but Brian promised me almost an hour ago that if I was good I'd get a special treat. And, I've been waiting patiently, being very, very good, so . . . Bye!" Before anyone could say a single word, Justin had an unprotesting Brian plastered against the wall next to the elevator banks, his mouth already too busy with more important things to get out any goodbyes. In fact nothing more was said by either Brian or Justin, outside of a few random moans and occasional pleadings for 'more', for quite some time.

"Fuck! . . . Stop, Justin. . . Ugh. Stop!" Were the next fully coherent words heard from the pair - which unfortunately brought the other activities as well as the moaning to an abrupt stop.

"What . . . *pant, pant* . . . What is it, Brian?" Justin's reasoning brain finally kicked in enough that he noticed his lover was uncomfortable.

Justin sat up straighter, so that he wasn't draped over Brian's extended belly any more, and slowed his rocking.

"This isn't working," Brian reluctantly admitted. "I can't fucking breathe."

"I'm so sorry, Brian. . . We can put a couple more pillows under you and I won't lean forward. . . Sorry," Justin said immediately chagrined and embarrassed at having made Brian uncomfortable.

"Shit," Brian said and sighed in resignation. "Oh, fuck it all . . ."

Brian waved at Justin to move off him. Justin slid back and disengaged himself from Brian's dick with an uneasy frown. For a minute, Justin was worried Brian was giving up altogether.

They'd already had to give up their favorite fucking position - face to face with Justin's legs bent back almost to his ears - when that got too difficult, what with the baby bump and all. Now it looked like Justin wouldn't be riding Brian anymore either. Doggie style had also become a thing of the past. And, as sexually creative as the boys were, that didn't leave much . . . It would be a long few months if this was the end of their fucking.

But there was no way Brian Fucking Kinney was giving up his favorite hobby, not even for a couple of months. No fucking way would he ever stop fucking. He'd already had to make quite a few compromises because of this ridiculous situation. What was one more? He'd just have to suck it up and get his needs met another way.

Brian sat up and then rearranged all the pillows on the bed into one big pile. He pulled the now useless condom off his cock and reached for a new one from the box on the nightstand. Then, with a smugly amused little smile he handed Justin the new condom.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to drive for a while, Sunshine," Brian arched his brows coyly as he scooted around on his knees till his bulk was propped face down on the pile of pillows. "Looks like I get to be a pampered little bottom boy for the time being while you do all the work. Think you're up for it stud?" Brian winked and then buried his face in a pillow, not sure he could stop himself from laughing if he kept looking at the startled, proud and somewhat terrified look on Justin's face

"Are you sure, Brian?" Justin asked warily. "What if this is too much pressure on your stomach like that?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine. I've got lots of pillows, but . . . Just take it easy. Junior kicks when he gets too squished." Brian had meant that last part as a joke but when Justin still didn't move after a minute, Brian looked around and saw the beautiful boy kneeling behind him, chewing on his bottom lip and looking very, very worried.

"Sunshine, listen to me. Are you listening?" Justin nodded nervously. "I want you to fuck me. Now. And then we're going to finally get some sleep. And tomorrow we’re going to wake up and you're going to fuck me again. And you're going to keep on fucking me until this baby is born and I can once again see my goddamned cock so that I can resume fucking you. I will NOT go two months without fucking. Got it? And instead of acting all worried about it, you fucking better enjoy yourself because you will never get to experience the joys of Brian Kinney as your designated bottom boy ever again. So, get going and start fucking me already."

"Awfully bossy for a bottom, aren't you?" Justin teased, and then smacked the saucily wiggling ass in front of him.

"Ouch. Fuck that," Brian pretended to be outraged. "This is called topping from the bottom. Now get your cock in gear and start fucking me or I'm sure I can find someone else who wants bragging rights to this ass for the next couple months."

"Yes, Sir, Mr. Kinney, Sir! One fucking coming right up, Sir!"

"Smartass!" Brian commented and turned back towards his pillows again only to be startled by another slap to his rear from a grinning blond boy.

"Sir! Yes, Sir! I'll make your ass smart, Sir! Anything else I can help you with before the fucking, Sir?"

"Justin . . . " Brian warned, about fed up with the teasing.

"Sir! Sorry, Sir! Commencing fuck now, Sir!" Justin responded promptly as he grabbed for the lube and squeezed a generous cold dollop directly on Brian's rear, eliciting a gasp from the recipient.

"Justin!" Brian growled. "What are you doing?"