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+ Five +

A couple of days later Brian was working on his computer. He had spent the morning and most of the afternoon putting the finishing touches on his chewable vitamin ads. They were quite humorous. At least Brian thought so.

There was a knock on the loft door.

"Fuck!" he said aloud.

What was going on? He'd had more contact with the outside world in the last few days than he'd had in months. Who had gotten in this time?

"Come in at your own peril. It's open."

The loft door slid back and there he was. Brian had the same reaction he had felt the first time he had laid eyes on the blond vision. His groin tightened and his breath caught in his throat. He wondered what would happen if his other senses ever got involved. If he could touch and smell and taste Justin Taylor, he would probably explode.

"What the fuck do you want?" Brian asked harshly, trying to cover up the feelings coursing through him. Justin looked shocked. He opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped. "Are you making more deliveries?" Brian asked indicating the bag Justin held in his hand.

Brian saw Justin's blue eyes grow dark. The blond took a couple of steps towards him. "Pardon my mistake, Mr. Kinney, but I was under the impression that you wanted to have coffee sometime. I brought some fucking muffins, so enjoy them!" With that he shoved them hard into Brian's chest smashing them into little pieces. "If you don't choke on them, then shove them up your goddam ass!"

With that he turned on his heel and stomped out of the loft slamming the door behind him.

Brian stared at the loft door. What the fuck had he done? He picked up the bag from his lap. The blond had come for a visit and he had driven him away … again. Brian wheeled into the kitchen and flung the bag and its shattered contents into the garbage can. Maybe this was for the best. Now he wouldn't have to deal with the blond. He'd never come back after that little exchange. If he could just forget him, then his life could go back to the nice orderly existence he had had before.

What had he told BB the other night - forget him or go after him or stop whining? He realized that if anybody else had been there what he was doing could be considered whining. Could you whine to yourself? Fuck! This Justin Taylor was an accident waiting to happen and he didn't want anything more to do with accidents.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day he had a call from Trey who wanted to come over for his monthly visit. They arranged for him to arrive about six o'clock after he finished work. Brian said he would provide dinner. Trey's visits now were more like social calls than patient/therapist, and that suited both of them fine. They liked each other.

When Trey arrived Brian buzzed him up. Brian couldn't help but think that he had had more socialization in the last few days than he had had in the previous six months. Few people came to the loft other than Trey and Cynthia. He rarely got phone calls except for contact with work. He went out only when necessary. He had contracted services for groceries, takeout food, prescription drugs, hustlers. He did just about everything by telephone or over the internet.

The tap on the door told him Trey had made his way up. Brian pulled the door back to find a smiling Trey standing behind a wheelchair.

"What the fuck is that?" Brian asked.

"I thought you might like to try it out. It's state of the art," Trey grinned.

"Why would I want a new one of these fucking things?" Brian asked with a grimace.

"Look at it. It's sleek, compact, efficient, beautiful."

"As if…"

"Hey, this is the Ferrari of wheelchairs."

"Hmpff," was Brian's reaction.

"I thought you were into designer creations," Trey coaxed.

"That was in my old life."

Trey ignored that remark. "This is top of the line - the best!"

"Will you shut up about the fucking thing!"

"If you take it for a test drive."

"Fuck!" Brian levered himself onto the padded seat knowing it was easier to do it right away than spend all evening arguing with Trey. He'd lose anyway. He always did. The chair was surprisingly comfortable.

Trey smiled to himself. He knew Brian would like it.

"It doesn't have any arms," Brian observed.

"They get in the way of your arms," Trey replied with a grin. "This baby is built for speed. Take it for a run."

Brian snorted but he started wheeling across the loft. One stroke of his arm and he was at the other end. It really was fast and easy. "Fast and easy," Brian said aloud.

"Hey, wasn't that your motto?" Trey teased.

"I'll ignore that, but fuck you on principle."

"You should be so lucky."

"So what's this one called?" Brian had learned they all had names.

"Quickie Ti Titanium."

"A quickie was always good for me," Brian replied his tongue in cheek.

"See, fast and easy," Trey smiled. He liked the sarcastic Brian. Then he wasn't feeling sorry for himself. "It refers to the speed," he added seriously.

"Whatever. How much?"

"A little over two as is, but there's a shitload of options you can get."

"Which will add up to about three thousand by the time we're done," Brian noted.

"If you kept the other chair for certain things you wouldn't need to get arms or backpacks or other shit for this one."

"But I might want other shit."

"I'll give you their website. You can shop to your heart's content."

The buzzer went off.

"That'll be dinner. Buzz him up while I take this for a couple more turns around the loft."

Trey pushed the buzzer and spoke to the deliveryman. He watched Brian wheel around the loft, race up the ramp to the bedroom and come flying down again. He knew he had made the right decision bringing the chair. Brian wheeled over to the door in time to give the delivery guy a tip. He had the dinner added to his credit card.

They ate in comfortable silence for a bit. Trey watched Brian. Something seemed a little off.

"What's up?" Trey asked. "You seem … quiet."

"Nothing."

"You can't shit me. I know when something's up. Tell me."

"Lindsay will be delivering the baby in a little over a week," Brian said setting down his plate.

"Congratulations, papa."

"Fuck off!"

"Isn't a child a reason for celebration?"

"I didn't want this baby."

"Then why did you do it?" Trey knew the whole story.

"Lindsay always gets me to do things."

"That's a load of crap, Brian. You, of all people, never do anything you don't really want to do. So what's bugging you?"

"She wants me to come to the hospital when she goes into labor."

"So go."

"You think everything is so fucking easy."

"I know it isn't half as hard as you make it."

Brian glowered at him. "You think I should go?"

"It's a once in a lifetime experience."

"I don't know."

"I'm sure you don't," Trey sighed, "but don't dismiss it out of hand. Think about it. You can be there at the birth of your son or daughter."

Brian appeared to be thinking. He said nothing for quite a while.

"Is that all that's bugging you?"

Brian hesitated. He wasn't sure whether he should tell Trey about the blond downstairs and how he had treated him. He kind of wanted to discuss it with someone, and he could always depend on Trey for a truthful opinion.

"I had a visitor a couple of days ago," he said.

"No wonder you're off your game." Brian glared at him. "And he actually got into the inner sanctum?"

"How did you know it was a he?"

"Didn't think you'd be starting to entertain the ladies at this late date."

"I'll leave the ladies to you," Brian smirked. "He lives in the building."

"And you liked him."

"Sort of. My dick certainly did."

"Ah, physical attraction - a powerful force."

"You don't say!" Brian snarked.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I drove him away."

"Then you're a bigger fucking idiot than I could ever have imagined."

Brian frowned. "I didn't think there was any point in getting to know him."

"So you drove him off to make sure that couldn't possibly happen." Brian nodded. Trey knew Brian's fear of rejection only too well. He understood the isolation and loneliness that Brian felt he was doomed to. "Is that the way you want to leave it?"

"I … I can't stop thinking about him."

"You want to see him again?"

"I don't know."

"Sure you do. You're just afraid to admit it."

"You know I don't believe in love."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah. Give it a rest. If you had a chance for happy ever after you'd take it just like everybody else."

"I fucking would not!"

"Brian, you have as much right to be happy and have companionship and, yes, love as anyone else. Don't sell yourself short. Give it a chance."

When Trey left a little while later Brian had a new wheelchair and a lot to think about.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After Trey left Brian tried to watch some television and he tried to listen to some music, but his mind kept wandering back to the words Trey had used. He was entitled to some happiness. He didn't really believe that. His fucking life would disprove it. But the hope of it was still there. He wasn't sure how you ever got rid of that bit of hope.

He had really pissed Justin Taylor off. He didn't know if there was any hope of repairing that. He wasn't sure he wanted to put forth the effort to try to make it right. He could always start with something that might be a little easier. He could see if he could make up with BB. That might be worth a try, and it might help decide what to do about Justin, depending on his success or failure with the computer blond.

Somewhat apprehensively he logged on. Sure enough BB was on the site. He waited a few minutes to see if BB might contact him. No such luck! All of a sudden BB logged off. Brian sighed. He must be avoiding PP and the easiest way to do that was to be unavailable.

Brian was still sitting in his new wheelchair. He started pushing the wheels as hard as he could. He began flying around the loft flirting with crashing into the walls or tipping over. He didn't care. It was exciting to take a risk. It felt wonderful to fly. He had been living in safety, and fear, for so long now. Maybe he should go outside and race up and down the sidewalks. He never went out. It had been far too long since he had felt the wind on his face.

Brian pulled back the loft door, took a deep breath and called for the elevator. He locked the loft door and pocketed his keys. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was after midnight so there should be few people on the street. He was going to do this. He rode the elevator to the ground floor. He turned towards the front door when he realized there were still steps there, no ramp. He had never had one installed. He never wanted to go out at all and when he had to he always took the van. He'd go the back way.

Down the hall, out the back door, down the ramp, along the driveway and he was free. He glanced up and down the street wondering which way to go. Nobody was walking or loitering about. He had his newfound freedom all to himself. He turned left.

The sidewalk wasn't exactly smooth but he sped along oblivious to the potential hazards ahead. He raced to the corner savoring the cool dampness of the night air. At the corner he stopped, deciding if he would cross or go back. He turned around and decided to race the length of the block to the opposite corner.

His arms pumped and his Ferrari responded. He sped like the wind, bumpy terrain and all. The new chair was extremely fast and stable. He was at the other corner in no time. He stopped to take a few deep breaths. That felt exactly like another one. He whipped the chair around and sped back to the first corner. He stopped there gulping for air. He'd never win a marathon the shape he was in. He made a decision to do this every night, or day. He could do it in the daytime too, maybe ride the running track in the park. He laughed out loud and raced back to the other corner. Once there he really was out of breath. He began making his way back to the loft building moving at a slower but steady pace. He felt great.

As he neared the loft someone stepped out from the doorway. It was his blond.

"Having fun?" Justin asked.

"Actually yes. Are you spying on me?"

"I was out for a walk and I saw you down the street. You were going at quite a clip."

"This is my new Ferrari. I was taking it for a spin."

"Looked like fun."

"Want a ride?" Brian teased. Justin hesitated. "What's wrong? Does the chair scare you, or just what's in it?" Brian scowled.

"Neither," Justin replied staring into Brian's eyes. "I'd love a ride, but I don't want to hurt your legs."

"If that's your worry, climb aboard. They're dead. You can't hurt them." Brian held his arms out to the side leaving his empty lap as invitation.

Justin hesitated for a moment. Then that radiant smile lit up his face and Brian found his lap full of that delicious bottom. He could feel his cock stiffening beneath Justin's ass. He wondered if the blond could too.

Justin placed his arm around Brian's neck, looked into his face and stated, "Let's go."

"Any place in particular?"

"I'm at your mercy. Do with me what you will," Justin laughed.

Brian heard the words but he felt another invitation behind them. Could that be possible? He began wheeling them towards the corner.

"Faster," Justin called. "Faster!"

By the time they reached the corner they were both laughing and flushed with excitement, maybe flushed with something else too.

Brian turned around. "Ready to go back?"

"Let's run away," Justin giggled.

Brian snorted. "Anywhere in particular?"

"You ask that question a lot," Justin giggled again. "Home, James."

Brian rolled them back to the front door of the loft. "This is where you get off," he said with a laugh.

"Thanks for the ride. That was fun," Justin said still sitting on Brian's lap, his arms around his neck. "Love your new Ferrari." Suddenly Justin leaned in and they were kissing, a long, slow, sweet kiss that took their breath away.

When they both needed air they finally broke apart. Justin stood up quickly and Brian could swear the blond was blushing. In fact maybe he was too. He certainly had an uncomfortable bulge in his pants, and it looked like Justin did as well.

"Good night," Justin called as he ran up the steps.

Brian wished he could go after him but he had to go around the back to get in. Slowly he made that journey. When he opened the loft door he had a huge grin on his face. This had been the best night he'd had in a dog's age and he hadn't even got laid.