Chapter 1

2012

It was already seven when Brian walked out of his office and hailed a taxi. He knew everyone had been waiting for him for over an hour now, and Kelsey was probably pissed as hell that he hadn't let him know the meeting was running late. He shook his head and grinned at the thought of having his own brooding Irishman. He laughed to himself, remembering the number of times over the years he'd looked in the mirror and snarkily remarked that he'd fuck himself, never really thinking that one day that would be almost a reality.

Kelsey Moran was the consummate dark Irishman. Quick to anger, quick to brood and passionate as fucking hell. Unfortunately, like Brian, he was also quick to drink, which is how they'd come to meet. Theodore still hadn't let Brian live down the fact that he'd met Kelsey at a support group meeting, of all damned places.

Brian settled into the taxi seat and pulled out his phone.

--Hey, Kels. Meeting ran over. Any food left?

--Hell, no, ya dick. Mom tossed it when ya didn't show.

--I'm wounded. See you in twenty.

Brian closed the text message and pocketed his phone, smirking at Kels' usual shit. Who would have ever thought Brian Kinney would be looking forward to dinner with 'the fam' with nary a Novotny in sight? When he thought about it, however, he knew the absence of Novotnys was one of the main reasons he looked forward to these dinners. And one of the reasons Kelsey was so much a part of his world. His life.

:::

Mary Moran turned down the flame under the potatoes and laid the spoon on the crooked orange and green holder. It was originally, she was sure, supposed to be an ashtray for Sean when Kelsey made it in school so many years ago, but... well, it had found its ultimate destiny as a spoon rest. She'd never been able to discard it, even after more than thirty years of use. When she looked around her house, she could see crafty evidence of every stage of her child's life. Pictures hanging in frames made from popscicle sticks. Woven potholders that had never held pots safely. A dozen or more clay animals, the species of which were questionable. Each and every one in a place of honor in the small, frame home she'd lived in for nearly forty years. And on the corner of the credenza behind the sofa was a lucite box holding a tiny trilobite fossil from Ontario, next to a picture of the smiling young man who found it for her last spring. Gus.

At sixty-three, Mary was still a beautiful woman. Her figure was a bit fuller and much of the deep red of her hair had begun to fade, but her eyes were still the charming green they'd been when she was twenty-three and her laughter was still quick and easy. She loved her Sean to distraction, adored her only child, and was the undisputed heartbeat of the Moran family. When Kelsey had shared with her ten years ago that he was gay, she prayed. Not that he would be changed, but that he would be protected. That her son would find someone who could handle his sometimes-sorry ass. Now, a decade later, they were all waiting dinner on the answer to that very prayer.

"He's on his way, mom." Kelsey Moran picked at the roast his mother had just taken out of the oven, then dodged the snap of the dish towel she aimed at him. "He's gonna pretend that nothing's wrong, but this is a bad day for him." Mary nodded her head and sighed. She remembered last year. And the year before. At first, she'd thought that Brian's sadness was a reaction to his birthday, to getting older. It hadn't taken long after meeting him to uncover his vanity. But she'd since learned that it was something much, much more that haunted this particular day.

Kelsey kissed his mother's cheek and changed the subject. "Now, time to hide the soda bread."

Mary huffed indignantly. "Like hiding it will do a whit of good. The boy's got a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to my bread." But her eyes twinkled as she handed the towel-wrapped plate to her son. "The cupboard over the fridge. Haven't hid it there in a while," she said. "Now, go on you, get your dad."

A few minutes later the Morans all sat waiting around the table as Brian surveyed the room, his head tilted and one brow cocked. Mary's laugh trilled through the warm space as Brian ended the game and easily retrieved the bread from the high cupboard, placing it in the middle of the table.

"Dinner smells great as always, Mary" he said as he took his seat. There might have been just a little less despair in his eyes this year.

:::

Justin bolted up in bed, the sheet falling from his chest, now balled up in his fists. He paced his breaths in an attempt to do the same with his heartbeat. He didn't remember much about the dreams anymore. The graphic visuals had dimmed over time, but his body's response to them hadn't followed suit. At least they only came once or twice a year now, and at least tonight they'd expected this.

Tommy quickly moved behind Justin and wrapped his arms around the slightly heaving chest. "You're okay, bǎo bèi," he whispered. "You're okay."

Justin leaned his head back against Tommy and let himself be calmed by the minty aroma that always surrounded the man, soothed by the familiar feel of his skin and the lyrical cadence of his voice. His pulse slowed and he chuckled a little when he realized that Tommy was singing. And what he was singing.

So we sailed up to the sun, til we found the sea of green...   

"You're a freak, Tommy."

And we lived beneath the waves, in our yellow submarine...*

"My own freak," he said as he tightened Tommy's arms around him.

"You should call him."

"No way I'm calling him at..." Justin twisted to glance at the clock beside their bed. "...at almost 3:30 in the morning. Christ, Kelsey would have a shit fit, my need for Hobbsian dream solace aside."

"Nah, they'd both understand and you know it." He rested his cheek against Justin's hair. "You and Brian shared some serious shit, bǎo bèi... and dysfunctional and codependent as your connection may have been, you can't just ignore all that. Besides," Tommy whispered into his partner's ear, "he's our friend and he may just need you tonight, too."

"As much as I love you for being understanding, Tommy, there's really no need to overdo it. I don't need Brian tonight. I have you and he has Kels.  And, yeah, he's our friend and we shared some things I really wish we hadn't had to share..."

"But you don't want to become a Mikey?"

Justin snickered. Tommy had heard all about the Brian and Mikey show.

"Yeah, partly. But I've also gotten past the need for a nightmare mediator. I know what's happening and why, and, though you may not believe it, Professor, I'm a really big boy now." 

Tommy flipped Justin over on top of him and wrapped his legs tightly around Justin's waist. "Oh, believe me, I know just what a big boy you are." He threaded one hand through Justin's hair and pulled the younger man's head back sharply. "But, why don't you remind me again?"

Justin happily obliged.