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Author's Chapter Notes:

Okay - back to the plot . . . Enjoy! TAG


Red Questions.gifRed Questions.gifRed Questions.gif


Chapter 22 - Hiding Out.



Brian listened to the fourth of his waiting voicemail messages and then, disgusted, tapped at the icon on his phone to escape from the messaging app. All the messages had been the same. Apparently, the fact that he’d been hiding out in West Virginia for far too long had now become noticed by one and all. His friends and family were not happy with this state of affairs and were demanding his presence.


“Problems?” Justin asked, probably tipped off by Brian’s sighs that he wasn’t thrilled with the messages he’d been going through.


Brian took the plate holding his turkey sandwich out of the boy’s hands and set it on the kitchen table. Then he grabbed the helpful kitchen assistant and pulled him down onto his lap, wrapping both arms around the ghost’s middle to steady him. Justin didn’t put up any resistance, his body melting closer to Brian’s and his head dropping to the side so it could rest against the larger man’s cheek.


“That was Andy - AGAIN - trying to reschedule our night out. He’s pretty much demanding to meet you, you know.” Justin almost immediately straightened up and seemed ready to bolt but Brian refused to let go. “Come on, Ghost. He’s not a bad guy and he just wants to meet you - just once. Can’t you, please, give up the ghost-in-hiding thing for one night? Please.”


“Brian, you know I can’t do that. We’ve talked about this before,” Justin insisted tersely.


“But, I still don’t understand, Ghost,” Brian protested, even though he suspected it was futile. “I know your father fucked with your head and now you’re convinced that the world is out to get you just because you’re gay, but that’s total bullshit. Nobody’s gonna give a damn if we go out together as a couple. Especially not if we go to a fucking gay bar. But seriously, Justin, even if we went to a normal restaurant, I doubt anyone would give us shit. Nobody cares if we’re gay.”


“I know I’ve been out of things for a few years, Brian, but I doubt the world has changed THAT much,” Justin retorted with a definite frown. “At least around here, being gay is only one tiny step up from being a leper. Or at least that’s been my experience. And even so, I still can’t go out with you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”


With that pronouncement, the boy deliberately peeled Brian’s arms off him, stood up and went to retrieve his own sandwich. Brian huffed a big sigh but didn’t bother arguing the point. His ghost was a stubborn little shit when he wanted to be. Justin’s arguments didn’t make sense to Brian, though. This couldn’t just be Craig’s brainwashing, could it?


Brian really wished that Justin would talk to him - explain what was going through that aggravatingly mulish blond brain - and you KNEW things were bad when Brian Kinney wanted to talk about feelings and shit. But there just had to be some way to lure his ghost back out into the world of the living. Brian wasn’t giving up just yet. He’d been accommodating his little haunt’s penchant for hiding long enough. It was time to figure out some way to get Justin out of this damn house.


The rest of lunch was pretty much silent. Justin seemed almost as preoccupied as Brian was. Brian hadn’t come up with any tangible plan, though, before his sandwich was gone and Justin took both their plates away to the sink to wash up. Brian heaved to his feet with an inelegant grunt. He figured something would come to him.


He hoped.


That afternoon’s agenda included painting the now almost finished Greatroom, and Brian was eager to get started. The place was going to look fantastic, but the painting was going to be a chore, what with the vaulted ceiling and all the woodwork and cabinets that needed to be taped off to protect them. He suspected they’d be lucky to get the first coat completed before the end of the day.


“You ready to paint, Ghost?” Brian asked as the boy put the last plate in the dishwasher. “I realize that latex house paint and drywall aren’t your preferred mediums but, being the artist you are, I’m sure you’ll still be better at this than me.”


“Stand back and watch the Master work,” his ghost teased, bumping hips with Brian as he strutted past the bigger man with a big, impish grin.


Brian stripped off his shirt so that he wouldn’t get it covered in paint and, clad only in his oldest pair of baggy sweat pants, he followed his ghost painter out to begin the afternoon’s chores.



The two of them made excellent progress with their painting. The hardest part - taping off woodwork and tarping the floors and what little furniture was in the room - took them more than an hour. After that, though, the painting itself went relatively quickly. Brian had been right that Justin was a natural at this kind of work. The boy had even showed him some tips for getting a smoother, more even, base coat, which Brian hadn’t known before. They’d got the base coat up in about forty minutes and were letting it dry while they prepared their brushes and other gear to start on the pale gold semi-gloss that Brian had chosen to compliment the rich brown of the cabinets and moulding he’d used.


While his ghost was stirring the next can of paint, Brian took the opportunity to admire the boy’s trim physique. Justin had followed Brian’s lead and stripped down to his holey jeans, his torso bare, and his ivory skin dotted with speckles and splatters of white paint. Brian thought it was a good look on the boy.


Brian was happy to note that Justin seemed to have lost that pinched, starving look he’d had when Brian had first glimpsed him. All the extra feeding he’d been doing had finally paid off. The boy was still thin, but his skin now had a rosy, healthy color to it and, what with all the construction work they’d been doing, Justin was even building up some decent muscles. Brian certainly liked what he saw. Justin was an incredibly hot little twinkie - there was no getting around it. He could just imagine the attention the kid would get down on Liberty Avenue. And the two of them together would certainly make quite a pair. They’d be the two hottest fags in the city, by far.


If only Brian could GET his ghost to leave the fucking house . . .


Brian was still caught up, mulling over various plans to tempt the boy out of hiding, when he was startled by the sound of a commotion out on his doorstep. Justin dropped his paint stir stick and darted over to the window, angling his body so he could see out but nobody would see him. From the way his face dropped, the boy was obviously not pleased with whatever he saw out there.


“Your quilting ladies are here for a visit, Brian,” Justin announced teasingly. “And based on everything they’ve brought, I think they mean to stay for a while. Lucky you.”


“Lucky me,” Brian echoed, not at all sure he was prepared for this kind of visitation. “You better put the lid on that paint . . .” he suggested, before looking around and noting that his ghost had already dematerialized into thin air.


Shaking his head, Brian put the lid on the paint can himself and then sauntered over to the door right as his guests began knocking. His mostly-unclothed magnificence gave the chattering ladies on his doorstep a pause when he pulled open the door and beamed his sexiest Kinney smile at them. One of the littler ones in the back was even drooling again.


“Welcome, Ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit,” Brian drawled in his most luscious baritone.


“Brian, you horndog, how dare you come to the door like THAT!” Sue Ann admonished him with a backhanded swat to his bare biceps. “Or do you just always answer your door half naked? I have actually seen you in clothes when you come to the store, so I know you own some. Apparently you can’t be bothered to wear anything around the house, I suppose? But, really, you can’t be going on like this, what with poor Bea’s heart condition and Helen’s overactive libido. What ARE we going to do with you, Sweetcheeks?”


Brian didn’t get a chance to get a word of protest in edgewise. Penny already had him in hand and was leading him back inside while the drooler - little Mary Elizabeth - trotted along on his other side. Sue Ann and Tracey quickly ordered the rest of the hens around and got them headed to the Kitchen with their boxes, bags and bottles. Brian only had time to give a quick warning about the wet paint, before the invasion of his home was a fait accompli. Only a minute or two later, when Brian’s escorts guided him towards the kitchen table, he found their tea party already laid out and waiting for him. Sue Ann came up behind him a second later, draping Justin’s forgotten shirt over Brian’s shoulder.


“Put that on, Deary, or nobody will be able to concentrate on their nibbles - they’ll all be too busy imagining themselves nibbling on those pecs of yours,” Sue Ann ordered, earning herself a tittering of appreciation from the ladies.


Brian obediently pulled the shirt over his head - noting with approval that it still smelled like his little ghost - and then tugged the too-small garment down his body as best he could. He got a tiny, secret, thrill to be wearing his ‘boyfriend’s’ shirt. Good thing these old biddies couldn’t read minds, although his bemused smile probably gave them some hints nonetheless. Or, it would have, if they weren’t all too busy ogling the way his arms bulged below the short sleeves or the way his abs peeked out from under the hem to look at his face.


“So, Ladies, what’s the occasion?” Brian asked, looking around at his gaggle of fans. “Or did you all come over just to refill your mental spank banks with more images of me?”


That comment earned him a round of girlish giggles, proving that his guess wasn’t actually too far from the mark.


“Hush, girls! You’re so embarrassing. Poor Brian will think we only like him for his gorgeous body. Like he’s some piece of meat or something,” Penny chided them, albeit with a leering grin of her own as she eyed the man she was talking about.


“Well, if it’s man meat you came to see, I suppose I can oblige,” Brian joked, pretending to stand up, his hands going towards the drawstring of his sweats, as if he was about to show them ALL the goods.


“Stop, you!” Sue Ann ordered with a push to Brian’s shoulder that caused him to fall back into his seat. “You are the naughtiest man I’ve ever met, Brian Kinney . . . Which is why I love you so much!” They all laughed even more riotously. “Now, just you settle down before you get us all heated up and completely blow up Bea’s pacemaker.”


Bea smiled at Brian and protested, sotto voce, that she wouldn’t mind dying with THAT image being the last thing she saw.


“How about we arrange for a private viewing after the rest of these biddies leave,” Helen proposed with a blatant wink in Brian’s direction.


“Helen!” several of her friends shouted with shocked giggles.


“What about Hank?” Penny asked.


“Hank who?” Helen shot back.


“You know, Hank, your husband of thirty years,” Gloria pointed out, jabbing at the woman’s shoulder to help jog Helen’s memory.


“Oh, him. Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”


There was more giggling.


“Sorry, ladies. I won’t be your dirty little secret. I refuse to be ‘The Other Man’,” Brian insisted with mock-resolve. “Besides, I’m saving myself for my husband.”


That little scandalous tidbit engendered a huge uproar of giggles, guffaws and grins all round. Brian loved winding them all up the way he did. It was great to have such an appreciative audience. And he figured they were all harmless . . . well, mostly.


Finally, Gloria raised her voice above all the clamor and demanded they all come to order. “Contrary to appearances, Brian, we did not come here JUST to ogle you. We actually brought you a housewarming present.”


“Weren’t all those cleaning supplies my housewarming present?” Brian asked. “That was a great gift, by the way. I’ve already used up most of that lot. That was more than generous of you, ladies. I really don’t need anything else.”


“We’re glad that stuff came in handy,” Gloria said, not about to be deterred. “But, since you’ve been so sweet, not to mention entertaining,” the gaggle giggled again at the innuendo, “we wanted to give you something else. Something special.”


Connie picked up a large paperboard box tied with a green fabric ribbon that almost matched the green glints in Brian’s eyes and laid the huge present on the table in front of their host.


“Wow. Whatever this is, it’s big,” Brian commented, surprised and a little put off by the turn this visit had taken - he hated getting presents from people almost as much as he hated being thanked or praised. But, with all of the expectant faces hovering around, watching him, he didn’t think he could get out of accepting this gift. “Thank you, ladies.”


Brian pulled the tail of the bow and the ribbon unravelled. He carefully lifted the top off the box. Whatever was inside was obscured by a layer of creamy tissue paper, which took him another minute to dig through before he finally glimpsed the actual gift.

 


“Sue Ann did the design and Penny was in charge of picking out the fabric, but we all helped out on sewing it,” Connie gushed as Brian lifted the beautifully made quilt out of it’s box.


“Damn. This is fucking beautiful, ladies. Thank you,” Brian said as he unfurled the quilt and held the corner up higher so he could look at it more carefully.


This particular quilt was a patchwork of browns, greens and mauves, woven together in a block pattern that alternated between darker and lighter fabrics. When he felt the material, it was remarkably soft, and he could tell that there was an extra-thick layer of batting inside, which meant it would be super warm. The effect of the design and color combo was quite pleasing and modern, despite it being made up of what seemed to be vintage fabrics. The colors would be perfect for Brian’s bedroom and it was masculine enough that he would actually use the thing.


While Brian was perusing his present, all the ladies babbled at him, explaining esoteric details like the name of the design, the different fabrics, and the type of stitching used. Brian wasn’t really listening though. He was too busy imagining how delicious his pale-skinned GhostBoy would look sprawled out over the top of this lovely backdrop. He would have to try it out later that evening.


“So, how are the rest of your renovations going?” Brian was pulled out his fantasies by Tracey’s polite question. “It looks like most of this floor is almost done.”


Brian answered, explaining the status of his construction, and then the whole group trooped out of the kitchen for a short tour of the main floor. The consensus was that the work was wonderfully done and the paint colors he’d selected were perfect. They all commented favorably on the cabinetry and Justin’s woodwork, causing Brian to beam proudly.


When they came to the Study - which Brian and his assistant had already finished painting earlier in the week and which he’d already started decorating a bit - Penny was drawn by the elaborately framed drawing on the back wall. She seemed fascinated by the sketch of Brian and Gus seated at the kitchen table. Brian had been just as impressed by that drawing, which is why he’d had it framed and why it was the first thing he’d hung when the work in the Study was completed.


“This is a lovely drawing of you, Brian. Who’s the boy?” Penny asked with her usual good natured nosiness.


“That’s my son, Gus,” he stated, surprising the whole lot of his ladies.


“I bet there’s a story behind that fact,” Sue Ann surmised with the glint of a gossip-lover in her pale blue eyes.


“And you’d win that bet, my dear,” Brian chuckled and then decided to give in and let them all have their meddlesome fun. “His mother is an old college friend of mine. When she and her lesbian lover felt their maternal clocks ticking, they came to me and asked for a donation to help the process along. So, I jerked off in a cup, and the next thing I knew I had a little copy calling me ‘Daddy’.”


“Oh, Brian!” Several of the ladies shook their heads at his crass description, even though Brian knew they all loved his salaciousness.


“I think that’s just lovely,” Penny insisted. “It’s very kind of you to help your friend out like that. And you did get a beautiful little boy out of it, too, so you all win, right? Course, in my day, we didn’t have those kinds of arrangements, so I imagine anyone who was inclined THAT way wouldn’t have had the chance to be a parent. Which is just too unfair if you ask me.”


There were nods all around as the ladies agreed with Penny’s modern approach to the subject. Brian was heartened by their acceptance of his unconventionality. He’d never thought to meet with this kind of approval out in the wilds of West Virginia. Especially not after hearing Justin’s tales of woe. He wondered if it was just this particular group of ladies or if the sentiment was wider spread. Perhaps Craig’s attitude hadn’t been representative of the general opinion of the locals - perhaps he’d merely been the nasty, bigoted exception. That’s how it was looking at least.


“You know . . . this drawing reminds me a lot of the ones little Justin Taylor used to do,” Penny posited as she scrutinized the picture more thoroughly. “It looks so similar to the one he did of my Roddy, don’t you think, Gloria?”


Looking over the ladies’ shoulders at the boy’s drawing, Brian was reminded once again about the problem of getting his ghost to come out of hiding. After the conversation they’d all just been having about his arrangement with Gus’ mothers, he really didn’t think these ladies would have minded even if Justin HAD announced he was gay. Maybe he could use this opportunity to prove to his boy that the world wasn’t as homophobic as he seemed to believe.


“Speaking of Justin Taylor,” Brian broached the subject cautiously, “I found some more personal belongings of his in the basement. Are you sure that nobody has an idea of where he might have gone? I’d really love to try and find him again. He might want some of this stuff.”


“I’m guessing that means you still haven’t found any partially decomposed bodies in your yard, huh?” Tracey asked, only partially joking.


“Nope. No DEAD bodies at least,” Brian teased with a tongue-in-cheek grin. “Which is good, because I like my men alive and kicking, dontcha know?” This got him the anticipated round of chuckles and paved the way for what he wanted to ask next. “I certainly wouldn’t mind finding a nice tempting twinkie body like Justin Taylor’s in my house, though. I saw some pictures of him in the boxes of stuff I found and he’s fucking hot. You ladies did mention that he was gay, right? That’s what I’m hoping, at least, in case I do find him in my basement along with all the other stuff.”


The ladies all laughed at Brian as he wolfishly waggled his brows over the thought of the ‘missing’ Taylor boy. There were a few comments from the quilters about keeping a sweet young man like Little Justin away from a dog like Brian. There was more continued speculation about whether or not Little Justin truly was gay - the only proof of which was the brief snippet of conversation that Tracey had overheard the day the boy had vanished. The evidence was inconclusive, though, and since the boy wasn’t around to ask, there seemed little use in further conjecture. Soon enough, the conversation had moved on to other, more concrete matters.


Brian didn’t listen in much as the talk turned to the ladies’ ideas for Brian’s landscaping. He wouldn’t be able to get much done on that front until spring, so there wasn’t any hurry. While they were debating the relative merits of rose bushes instead of hedges, though, Brian thought back on the Quilting Ladies’ reactions to his supposition about Justin’s sexual orientation. He was buoyed by the fact that not a single one of his ladies seemed even momentarily fazed by the prospect that his ghost was gay. They didn’t even really seem opposed to Brian and Justin seeing each other - assuming he was gay - despite the age difference between the men.


So, in direct contradiction to what Justin had been intimating, it seemed that West Virginia was fine with gay. Or at least this portion of West Virginia. Presumably, Justin knew these ladies better than Brian did, so he should have known that their reactions wouldn’t be as bad as he’d been led to believe by Craig. He couldn’t really be afraid of THESE women finding out about his not-so-secret sexuality, right? So, if that wasn’t what Justin was hiding from, then what was it? This conundrum just kept getting more and more mysterious.


As soon as a good portion of the tea and biscuits were gone, the women started to make motions to leave. Brian was glad of that fact, even though he hadn’t really minded the visit all that much. It was always good for his ego to be fawned over by a bevy of beauties, even if this one wasn’t the right gender. However, he was always happy to get his quiet house back after the Quilting Ladies left.


This time, though, Brian’s house didn’t revert to quiet somnolence once the door was closed behind the last of his ladies. Instead, he was assailed by a vociferous blond demon, who appeared out of the blue and immediately began yelling at the surprised homeowner. Brian was caught so off guard by this, he didn’t at first understand what it was the ghost was angry about.


“Why did you have to go and talk about me, Brian? Why?” the whirling blond dervish demanded, practically spitting out the words with a red face and angry gleam to his eyes. “You practically came right out and told them I was here, damn it! You even hinted I was hiding in the fucking basement. Shit! What the fuck am I going to do now? . . .”


Brian was speechless as he watched his ghost pacing back and forth across the width of the Greatroom, ranting in a near panic, worrying about being found.


It DIDN’T make any sense.


“Justin . . .” Brian tried to interrupt but was shouted down anew. “Justin! JUSTIN!” That finally got the boy’s attention. “Calm the fuck down already, Justin. Didn’t you hear what they said? None of them cared about whether or not you’re gay. They were fine with us being together. Why is this a big deal?”


“It’s a big deal because now they’re all going to start speculating about me. They probably started gossiping about it as soon as they stepped off the stoop. They’ll all be spreading new rumors about me as soon as they get to their phones . . .”


Brian was still completely lost about why his ghost was THIS irate over what he’d seen as an inconsequential sidebar in the afternoon. It really didn’t make any sense when you considered that the ladies had all been accepting of the idea that Justin was gay. So, what was he missing here?


“Justin, what aren’t you telling me? Why are you this freaked out? I get that you don’t want to come out to anyone - even my Quilting Ladies - and I guess that’s fine, even though I think you’re over reacting. But why are you so worried about me joking about you being here? I know I’m missing something but . . .”


“You don’t get it, Brian!” Justin turned and spat the words at Brian as if he were going to hit his lover over the head with them. “Connie Jenkins’ son is the fucking Deputy Sheriff. If she tells him she suspects that I’m still around, he might come looking for me. Then they’d know I’d been around the whole time . . . They’d find out what my father did to me . . . It would ALL come out, Brian! All of it!” Brian watched as the rage and fear blew out of his ghost along with the vituperative words, leaving nothing left but an anguished, defeated shell of a boy. “I-I-I . . . I can’t let them find out about me, Brian . . . I just can’t. I can’t let ANYONE find out what happened . . .”


Brian made a move to reach out and grab hold of the clearly distraught boy but Justin leaped back, out of his reach, a look of self-loathing and dread on his normally sweet face. If Brian hadn’t been so confused, he might’ve reacted more quickly. As it was, the entire situation seemed shrouded in the fuzziness of unreality. It dulled his reaction time so much that the spooked sprite was able to dart around Brian‘s inert form, making a run for the basement stairs, and getting halfway down before Brian even realized what was happening. When he did come to his senses, he rushed after the boy’s retreating back, but was too late to prevent Justin from disappearing behind the crawl space hatchway. Two seconds later, the sound of metallic locks clicking into place sealed the matter as well as sealing off Brian’s only means of access to his runaway ghost.


“Justin! Justin, open this fucking door right this second! Come on, Justin,” Brian yelled ineffectually while he pounded with his fists against the wooden paneling.


There was no reply from the hole other than the faint sound of sobbing.


“Please open the door, Justin,” Brian begged, his hands no longer pounding against the closed doorway, but pressed so that his palms lay flat against the rough, splintery wood. “I don’t care what your father did to you, Ghost. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters to me, Justin. Please just come out and we can talk about this. Please.”

 

There was nothing. No reply at all. Even the crying became more muffled and eventually petered out. Brian turned, leaned his back against the hatchway separating him from his ghost and sank down onto his haunches to wait.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

10/24/17 - Shout out to SandiD cuz I used her fave fantasy yet again in one of my stories. This might have to become a 'thing'. LOL. Hope you enjoy. So, any renewed speculation on what exactly happened to Justin in his past that is keeping him in hiding? Can't wait to hear what you come up with . . . TAG

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