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Author's Chapter Notes:

Brian has a cunning plan to get his ghost boy to talk to him . . . Enjoy! TAG

*****Chapter dedicated to Lorie - who asked for something happy to read tonight*****


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Chapter 14 - The Ice Breaker.


“Good morning, Sunshine!”


The sappy, sentimental greeting rolled off Brian's tongue without his permission or conscious will. He mentally cursed himself for FaceTimeing instead of just texting his morning message to the ghost. If he’d texted, he could have stopped himself from saying such shit and sounding like a fool. But, since he couldn't take it back, he bravely plowed on into the meat of his subject.


“I'm heading into town first thing this morning to check out the plumbing and electrical fixtures I was talking about. I'm going to pick up Gus on my way back. But, in between, I should have time to stop at the store, so speak up now if you need anything.”


Not unsurprisingly, the ghost didn’t say anything. Brian couldn’t fault the boy for being overly chatty. But, since the kid had the tablet angled so he could actually see most of Justin’s face this morning - well, what he COULD see in the relative darkness of Justin’s hole - he could at least see that the kid was thinking over his proposal. A full sixty seconds later, when the ghost boy finally did speak up, however, it wasn’t a request that Brian would have expected.  


“Chalkboard paint.”


“Uh, what?” Brian was thrown - of all the things that he would have thought the kid might need or want, why the hell would be he asking for paint? “What the fuck is ‘chalkboard paint’?”


Apparently the spooked specter was scared off by Brian’s too loud questioning. Justin looked away from the tablet’s screen, his lips folded in and his eyes lowered, as if he were either frightened or embarrassed. Damn it, Brian thought to himself, the kid was more skittish than a racehorse. He needed to curb his natural causticness if he was ever going to get anywhere. It was clear that Justin wasn’t going to say anything else now, defeating Brian’s purpose in making the call.  


“Never mind. I’ll figure it out,” Brian answered himself. “If you think of anything else you need, though, just text me, okay?”


All Brian got was tiny nod and then the screen went dark again.


“Fine. Be that way, Ghost. I’ll wear you down yet,” Brian muttered to himself as he gathered his things together and headed down the stairs, already thinking ahead to his errands for the day.


Strangely enough, finding his ghost’s chalkboard paint was the easiest of his errands that day. The guy at the home center store knew just what it was, taking him to the correct shelf and pointing out the smallish can of black paint without a problem. It was also, probably, the cheapest item on Brian’s shopping list. The copper plumbing fixtures and new lighting fixtures he selected were exponentially more pricey. However, he was well satisfied with all his selections and excited to get them installed in the new house. The place was really going to be a showroom by the time Brian was done with it.


Brian’s next stop was the huge one-stop-shopping-groceries-and-everything-else store. He picked up some cleaning supplies for the house and other random things that he could get in bulk, like toilet paper and laundry detergent. Then he turned his mind towards more things his stowaway might need.


Justin was being such a little twat about asking for stuff he undoubtedly needed. Fucking soap and chalkboard paint . . . You’d think a kid who’d been locked up in an abandoned house for months would need more shit than that, right? But, of course, he was too shy or too stubborn or too . . . whatever . . . to just ask for it. Brian could be stubborn too, though, and wasn’t going to let a little thing like lack of communication stop him.


So, what would a kid locked away from the world for months on end need?


The first things that came to Brian’s mind were whiskey, lube and condoms - although he doubted that was what his shy ghost boy would have thought of off the top of his head. He hadn’t seen the boy drink anything harder than a beer or two and there was nobody there for him to fuck, so condoms seemed unnecessary. And Justin had apparently already absconded with Brian’s dildo and lube, so he was set for a while on that front.


Brian had already given him all the toiletries he could think of that the kid might need. Food, of course, came to mind, but he was also already seeing to that need. There had to be something else that he was missing, though. Something more substantial. Something personal. What the kid really needed was a trip to the barber so he could get a haircut, but Brian didn’t think Justin was ready for that. He’d also already exhausted all his ideas for entertainment items the boy might like. So what else was there?


As Brian was wandering through the store, scanning the aisles for ideas, he happened to walk past the aisles that held bedding. That caught his eye right away. From the few little glimpses Brian had caught of the boy’s hidey-hole, he didn’t seem to have many creature comforts. Hell, if Brian had gone months without leaving his room, one of the first things he’d want would be clean sheets. Brian quickly loaded up his cart with four sets of sheets - two each in queen-sized and full, since he didn’t know what size bed the kid had hidden down there - a fluffy new pillow, a fleece blanket and, because he was tired of imagining the boy living in perpetual darkness, a bright LED table lamp. Hopefully, that would equip the kid for awhile. At least until Brian figured out what to do about him.


Then, with the Jeep packed to the gills, full of all his purchases, it was off to get Gus before heading home.


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Brian struggled into the house, weighed down by his third load of crap, with Gus perched on his shoulders and kicking at Brian’s chest with his heels to hurry his steed along. The things he’d do to amuse his offspring, right? But he made it into the kitchen and was able to unload the kid as well as the plumbing supplies without incident.


“Hop up here and wash those mitts, Sonny Boy,” Brian directed, lifting the boy up so he could wash his hands at the sink. “Okay, take these plates over to the table for us, please, and I’ll bring your pizza.”


As soon as Brian had Gus settled, happily munching away on a slice of cheese pizza, he fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a quick text to summon his GhostBoy.


Kinney-Tastic: Hey, you. Gus forced me to stop on the way home and pick up pizza for lunch. I need you to come up here and help eat it all. Somebody needs to save me from all these carbs. Help!


There was no response, but about two minutes later, a shy blond boy suddenly appeared, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Brian waved him in and pointed to the place already set for him at the table. Justin shuffled over and took the seat without comment.


“Gus, you remember Justin, right?”


“Hi, Boy!” Gus responded, his mouth full of half-masticated pizza.


“Hi, Gus,” Justin answered in his pleasantly soft tenor.


“Here, Ghost. Eat,” Brian ordered, smiling as he heaped three large slices of pepperoni on the younger man’s plate before he turned back to his own Caesar salad.


Luckily for Justin, Gus was too busy chattering away to make it obvious that he wasn't holding up his end of the conversation. Gus had just started preschool the week before and he was totally enamored with everything about his new school. He spent the whole of lunch telling Brian and Justin EVERYTHING he’d done and said . . . and everything his teacher had done and said, and everything all his new friends had done and said, and everything his moms had done or said about school, etc. Brian mostly just tuned the noise out, but Justin seemed to hang on the child’s every word.


“And we gots a cat named ‘Mr. Pickles’. Innit funny! He don’t look like a pickle - he’s furry,” Gus announced and broke into childish giggles at his own joke. “I gets to feed Mr. Pickles next week, Daddy, an I gets to pick which collar he wears - he gots lots of pretty collars, you know.” The next thing Brian knew, the conversation had skiped completely off the track as Gus asked, “Can I gets a cat of my own, Daddy? I wants a black cat and I’m a gonna call him Frank, ‘cuz that’s a good name for a cat, dontcha think?”


“Good luck talking your moms into that, Gus. Personally, I think two dykes is more than enough pussy in one house.”


That comment caused Brian’s little GhostBoy to snort the coke he’d been sipping through his nose. Brian smirked, proud that he’d managed to get such a reaction out of the shy young man, and handed him another napkin. He noted in passing that Justin looked fucking adorable when he blushed like that. Not that Brian would ever voice such lesbianic sentiments.


Brian was ready to wrap up lunch after that though. He grabbed a towel, wet it in the sink, then moved over to wash down his son. Gus was coated liberally with red sauce all over his hands and face by that point, so it took a minute or two.


“How about we go take a walk outside and work off some of that pizza before nap time, Sonny Boy,” Brian proposed when the kid was finally clean.


“Kay! I kin pick up leafs for my teacher - we’re doing pitchers with leafs this week. It’s fun, Daddy. I kin show’s you how to do it too!” Gus hopped down off his chair, rarin’ to go, and turned to their friendly resident ghost. “Come on, Boy. I’ll shows you how to find good leafs.”


Gus had already reached out to grab hold of Justin’s hand before Brian could stop him. Brian was surprised to see that the boy didn’t shy away from the child's touch. But it might have been because Justin was too shocked by the suggestion that he go out on their walk with them.


“I can’t, Gus. I-I . . . I can't go outside . . . I . . . can’t go,” Justin stuttered, looking up at Brian with incipient panic in his eyes and beginning to struggle for breath.  


“Yes you can. It’ll be fun. Come on, Boy!” Gus demanded, tugging on Justin’s arm.


“Gus, stop!” Brian demanded, coming over to pick his son up and pry the chubby little fingers off Justin’s wrist. “Justin doesn’t have to go outside with us if he doesn’t want to.”


“But I wants to play with the Boy, Daddy,” Gus complained in that way petulant, almost-three-year-old's had of assuming that whatever they wanted would naturally be what everyone else wanted.


“Gus. I said to stop,” Brian repeated. “Justin doesn’t want to go outside. And if you aren't good, you’re not going to go out either. You can go straight to bed for your nap right now if you’re going to argue with me.”


“Dadddddyyyyyy!”


“Hey, Gus,” Justin intervened, kneeling down so he was on the toddler’s level. “If you’re a good boy for your Daddy, and don’t argue any more, I’ll have a treat waiting for you when you get back from your nap. How does that sound?”


Justin looked up at Brian for approval of this plan and got a grateful smile in return. Gus seemed placated by this promise as well. And before you knew it, father and son were out the door and wandering around amongst the trees behind the big house. Gus spent the next twenty minutes happily involved in finding the ‘bestest’ leaves in the forest. Brian was put to use obediently carrying all the ‘keepers’. By the time they made it back to the house, Gus was sufficiently tired out so that Brian thought he’d sleep for a good long time.


As promised, Justin was waiting for them in the kitchen holding Gus’ ‘treat’, which turned out to be a children’s book titled, ‘Guess How Much I Love You’. The small cardboard book had obviously seen better days - there were scuffs on its cover and the colors were a bit faded, but that only proved it had been well loved. Gus didn’t seem to mind. He immediately pulled Justin out to the living room area and climbed up on the couch so they could sit together and look at the pictures while Justin read.



“This is a very special book, Gus. My Mommy read it to me when I was little and I read it to my little sister when she was a baby. It's my favorite book in the whole world,” Justin explained before he opened to the first page and started reading. By the time Justin got to the part where Big Nutbrown Hare was telling Little Nutbrown Hare, “. . . I love you right up to the moon and back,” Gus was already yawning with his head in the Ghost’s lap.


“Thas a nice book, Boy,” Gus mumbled through another yawn as Brian picked him up and carried him away to his bedroom.


Justin followed behind as Brian took Gus upstairs and then tucked him into his bed. The helpful ghost had picked up the child's forgotten jacket and shoes along the way. Brian took the items, put them away in the closet, then closed the door behind him, leaning against the wall outside with a smile for Justin.


“So, you’ll talk to my son, but not to me?” Brian couldn’t help but tease the reluctant blond boy.


Justin shrugged bashfully, but apparently felt brave enough to tease back. “He’s cuter than you.”


“Oh, Ghost! You wound me! Seriously?” Brian moaned, clutching at his chest as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. Justin smiled and looked away. “But you're right. I’m not ‘cute’. I’m hot, which is much, MUCH, better.”


This earned Brian an outright laugh and another of those sweet smiles that Brian had been so hoping to see again. They were fucking additive and made him want to work even harder to get more. Brian tilted his head towards the stairs, inviting the other man with his gesture to accompany him back downstairs where they wouldn’t wake Gus with more conversation. Justin nodded and followed as Brian led the way.


Back in the kitchen, Brian noticed that Justin had already cleaned up their lunch mess. Helpful little Sprite. Brian was happy enough not to have to deal with that, and went straight to sorting out all the shit he’d bought in town that day. Justin, meanwhile, sat quietly at the table as if waiting for Brian to tell him what he wanted the boy to do next. Which was good since, once Brian had all his plumbing and lighting fixtures set aside, the remaining pile all belonged to the GhostBoy.


“Here’s the paint you wanted - you'll have to tell me sometime what the hell you wanted with chalkboard paint, Ghost - and the rest of this is your’s too.” Justin, as expected, looked at Brian with confusion since he hadn’t asked for any of that stuff. “Just humor me and take it. Whatever doesn’t fit, I’ll return. But otherwise, use it in good health, Ghost.”


Brian got a barely noticeable nod, which he figured was good enough considering all the progress they’d made already today. Borrowing Gus for the night had been a good move on Brian’s part. He knew nobody could resist that adorable little anklebiter. But it was clearly time to give his resident spook a bit of a break before Brian pushed him too far.


“Okay, I’m going to go finish up some work in the bathroom. I need to get everything ready so the plumber can install all this great stuff I bought today. Here’s hoping Gus sleeps for at least an hour or so. Later, Ghost.”


Brian didn’t see or hear from his bashful ghost boy for the next hour and a half. But, when Brian realized how late it was getting, he started to get concerned about why he hadn’t heard anything from Gus yet. The boy didn’t usually nap for this long. Which meant the kid was probably awake and up to no good once more.


Brian put away the tools he’d been using and emerged from the new guest bath, only to find both his Ghost and his Sonny Boy quietly occupied in the far corner of the Greatroom. They were both dressed in baggy paint shirts, bent over something he couldn’t quite see. Brian walked closer to examine whatever this project was they were working on. A step or two nearer and he could see that Gus had a paintbrush in his hand and Justin was holding out the can of black chalkboard paint, while the child slathered the gooey substance liberally over a flat, square panel propped up on two sawhorses. There was a big tarp underneath to protect Brian’s floors. Sitting off to the side was an already finished, simple wooden frame, sized so that it would fit perfectly around the blackened panel they were now working on.



“Look, Daddy! Look!” Gus screeched as soon as he noticed his father had come up next to them, flinging his paintbrush so that several drops of the black paint splashed onto Justin's face in the process.


Justin chuckled quietly and used a corner of his shirt to wipe the smudge away but didn’t say anything.


“Me and the Boy is making a chalkboard for my room. I kin writed on it and drawed pitchers and anything. Innit cool, Daddy?”


“That is pretty cool, Sonny Boy,” Brian looked on with approval as Gus went back to his painting. “Careful with that paint though. The goal is to get more paint on the wood than on Justin.”


“It’s okay, Daddy. We gots special shirts on and all. See?”


“I see,” Brian replied, noting that the shirt Gus was wearing was one of his own work shirts, put on the boy backwards so he was covered from neck to toes and therefore relatively safe from paint. “Did you thank Justin for helping you with this Sonny Boy? It looks like he did a lot of work to get this ready for you.”


“Thank you, Boy,” Gus parroted obediently as he continued painting.


“Gus, why do you keep calling Justin ‘boy’?” Brian couldn’t help but ask. “He might not like that, you know.”


“But he’s the ‘Boy in The Wall’, Daddy. So I’s called him ‘Boy’. He likes it, Daddy.”


Brian noted that Justin was chuckling at the childish explanation and didn’t look at all offended, so he let it slide as well.


“Thank you, Ghost. This is really nice of you . . . And, now I know what the fucking chalkboard paint was for.”


The rest of the afternoon was spent finishing up the boys’ chalkboard project, making dinner together and then watching Disney videos until Gus passed out for the night. The whole day was extremely pleasant. Extremely family-oriented. Extremely cozy. And Brian was thrilled how engaged and relaxed his GhostBoy had been all day.

 

Gus was an excellent ice breaker.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

9/24/17 - I couldn't resist a short, fluffy, happy, Gus Chapter. I promise to get on with the plot more in the next chapter. So, now that Justin's talking - sort of - the next step of Brian's plan is to get him out of that hole he's hiding in . . . Off to write more. TAG

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