Chapter 24 - After Dinner Debacle.

“I’m really not sure this is a good idea, Brian,” Justin whined yet again as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror wearing the brand new J.Crew shirt and tan chinos that his boyfriend had purchased for him that afternoon.

“Of course it’s a good idea. You look hot in that outfit. Besides, all of your other clothes are so old they’re practically falling apart. You can’t wear any of that shit out. I have standards, you know, and my boyfriend has to look at least halfway well dressed,” Brian insisted, adjusting the collar of his own brand new Ralph Lauren button down shirt.

“I didn’t mean the shirt, you big label queen. I meant the entire dinner.” Justin turned away from the mirror and slumped down with his ass propped against the edge of the cabinet top. “I have a really bad feeling about this. I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into going out to dinner at your best friend’s mother’s house. What the fuck was I thinking?”

“You were thinking that it’ll be a good first step in the process of reaccustoming you to the real world,” Brian stated authoritatively.

“No. That’s what YOU were thinking, Brian. I was too distracted by that thing you were doing with your finger to think about anything, so I certainly wasn’t thinking THAT when I agreed to this stupid plan.” Justin crossed his arms and glared at Brian, who had moved on to fussing with his hair. “I really shouldn’t do this. I should stay here, where I don’t run any risks of being seen.”

“It’s too late to back out now, Ghost. I told you - when Debbie Novotny extends a dinner invitation, attendance is mandatory. Especially if she says you better show up while shaking one of her long, red talons in your face. If you don’t show up, she’ll only track you down, lecture you for hours on why you’re a total shit and then force feed you pasta till you explode. Trust me, Ghost, it’s much safer to just comply voluntarily.”

“I could always just hide in the room in the basement if she tried to get to me. I’d be safe there,” Justin surmised.

“But I wouldn’t and she’ll have my balls if I don’t produce you. And I’m very attached to my balls, Ghost, so I’m not going to risk it.” Brian finished giving his hair that just fucked look and then turned to pull his boy up off the bathroom counter and into his arms. “It’s going to be fine. I promise you. My friends are all pretty much harmless - except for Debbie, of course, but she mostly only uses her powers for good.

Justin still looked unconvinced. Brian still had no idea why his ghost was so afraid to leave the confines of the house. Justin still wasn’t talking about it, except to vaguely complain about how it ‘wasn’t a good idea’. Brian still wouldn’t relent. Justin was still pouting and dragging his feet. Brian still didn’t care and was insisting that they go. Justin still looked like he was on the verge of panic every time they talked about it.

And they were both still going.

Brian had known that the minute he walked into the Diner with Michael - who was spouting the news that Brian Kinney had a boyfriend before the bell over the door had even stopped tinkling - he’d be roped into bringing Justin to meet Liberty Avenue’s favorite surrogate mom. It was inevitable. Which was part of Brian’s cunning plan all along. One little scaredy-cat ghost was no match for a Brian Kinney plan.

“They are all going to love you, Ghost. I mean, look at you, right? You’re the epitome of an adorable little blond twinkie. Debbie will immediately want to mother the shit out of you. Vic will be drooling over you and making lewd jokes right and left. Emmett will probably start feeling you up while Ted offers up some boring, yet wise advice, like you were his little brother. You’re probably safe from the lesbians, though. They rarely even notice men, no matter how hot they are. And, of course, you’ll already have me and Gus on your side. So, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“What about Michael? He didn’t seem too thrilled to find out about me the other day?” Justin asked, letting his head sag against Brian’s strong, reassuring chest with a deep sigh.

“Well, as long as Ben is there to rope him in, Mikey will be just fine. Ben’s a decent enough guy and he keeps his husband in check most of the time. Plus, Debbie won’t let Mikey get away with too much,” Brian continued with his arguments, giving the boy a squeeze to help bolster his courage.

“But what if they ask all sorts of questions about me? What am I going to tell them?”

Justin had already asked this of Brian at least five times, but he patiently answered once more. “You don’t have to tell them anything, Ghost. All I told Mikey was that you grew up in the neighborhood and that I’d enlisted you to help me out on my renovations. He, of course, took that tidbit and ran with it, embellishing the fuck out of it along the way, till he’d constructed a huge backstory for you that should satisfy everyone. And the best part is we don’t have to say a thing - we’ll just sit back and let Mikey tell his little fantasy.” Justin still looked unconvinced. “Trust me, Justin. None of the guys at this dinner know you and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. They’ve all got their own coming out stories, so none of them would ever give you shit about anything your asshole father did.”

“I really hope you’re right, Brian,” Justin mumbled into the folds of his lover’s shirt. “I really, REALLY, hope you’re right.”

Brian looked at the digital clock he’d stuck to the top of the bathroom mirror, which said it was definitely time for them to leave. He let go of his sad and worried ghost, slipped on his shoes, gathered his wallet, keys and phone, and then towed the reluctant boy out of the room and down the stairs after him. Justin paused before they reached the door to pick up a disreputable looking old baseball cap and some sunglasses he’d left sitting on the coffee table. Then the boy put on the hat and glasses, donned his coat, turned up the collar so you could only see the tip of his nose, and shuffled back to where Brian was waiting.

“Nice disguise, Ghost,” Brian teased him. “A little obvious though. Unless it’s your plan to draw attention to yourself.”

“Fuck you, Brian,” Justin snarled, clearly not in a joking mood.

“Let’s go, Mr. Master of Disguises,” Brian proposed with a chuckle as he held the door open for his spooked spook.

Justin peeked around the doorjamb, looking up and down the deserted driveway and then sticking his neck out far enough to scan the road beyond as well. When he’d apparently determined that the coast was clear, he dashed out of the house, jogging down the walk to where the Jeep was parked. Brian ambled along behind him at his normal pace, thoroughly amused by his ghost’s antics.

“Hurry up, Brian. Let me in.”

Brian hit the remote door lock button on his keyfob, allowing the fugitive to duck inside the vehicle, where he immediately shimmied down so that you couldn’t see anything except the top of the blue ball cap through the passenger side window. Brian made sure he’d stopped chuckling before he opened his door and climbed into the driver’s seat. He was actually impressed that he’d managed to get his ghost this far without any major queen outs. Things were definitely looking up.

Traffic was light since it was a Sunday afternoon, so it only took them a half hour to get all the way into town. Justin had finally sat up in his seat the correct way once they’d pulled onto the highway. After that, the boy seemed in much better spirits and maybe even a bit excited to be out and about in the world once again. He’d asked even more questions about all the expected attendees of the dinner, laughing at all of Brian’s crass stories about the gang’s many, many escapades. By the time they reached Debbie’s house, the ghost seemed thoroughly braced for the ordeal he was about to endure.

“Where is this miracle worker!” Debbie shrieked as soon as she opened the door.

Brian stepped to the side, revealing the boy who’d been trying to hide behind the larger man’s bulkier frame. Justin smiled weakly at the loudmouthed redhead, offering a lame wave and a meek ‘hello’. Brian simply chuckled at the boy’s act, even more assured than he’d been before that Debbie was going to adore the kid.

“Well, now, aren’t you the cutest thing! No wonder Brian’s latched on to you, Sunshine. You’re fucking adorable, that’s what you are. I bet he just wants to eat you up on a daily basis! That’s what I’d do,” Debbie pronounced, pushing Brian roughly aside so she could envelope the poor kid in a hug. “Welcome, Sunshine. We’re just all so glad to meet you.”

“Deb, you better let him go before you smother him, or there won’t be anything left for the rest of the family to meet,” Brian advised with a proud smirk.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Sunshine. I didn’t mean to keep you out here on the step.” Deb let the boy go and immediately ushered him inside, completely ignoring Brian in the process. “I’m just so excited to meet the young man that’s finally caught our Brian. I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen.”

Justin followed the boisterous woman inside, looking over his shoulder only once as if to make sure Brian wasn’t abandoning him. Brian smiled fondly at the two of them and shook his head while Debbie led her guest into the kitchen. The small space was  filled to capacity with ten or so people, all of whom seemed to be staring avidly at Justin.

“Now, you just make yourself at home here, Sweetie. ‘Mi casa is your house’, as the saying goes. You’ll fit right in around here with this lot. Now, this old reprobate is my brother Vic - say ‘hi’ Vic - and you know Michael, right . . .” Debbie quickly introduced her newly hatched gayling to all the rest of the inmates.

Justin politely greeted everyone without saying much. The only one of the group that earned a real smile was Brian’s son, who jumped out of his Mama’s arms as soon as Justin was close enough to catch him. The little boy seemed thrilled to see his one time playmate, offering Justin a kiss and hugging the blond’s neck with a stranglehold until his Mommy pulled him away.

“No, Mommy. He’s my Boy,” Gus announced, struggling to get away from his mother.

“Sorry, Sonny Boy. Justin’s MY boy now. You’ll have to wait till you grow up and then you can get your own boy,” Brian kidded with an affectionate ruffle of the boy’s messy auburn top.

“But I want my Boy,” Gus insisted.

“I guess it’s unanimous, then - we ALL want that boy,” Emmett stage whispered, causing the boy in question to blush a bright scarlet. But Emmett wasn’t deterred in the least. “Now, Baby, you just come sit right over here next to Aunty Em and tell me all about yourself,” Emmett suggested, draping one long arm across Justin shoulders and nudging the blond along towards the far end of the table.

Brian was having none of that. With two long strides he intercepted Emmett’s pass, peeling the big queen’s hands off of his ghost’s shoulders and insinuating his own tall lanky frame very intentionally between the two of them. The bystanders laughed at this very obvious power-play. Brian didn’t care though. He wasn’t about to let that southern-fried slut have at his ghost.

“Hands off my boyfriend, Honeycutt! You’ll have to get your own hot little twinkie. This one is taken.”

“Ooo, don’t you just love it when a guy gets all caveman possessive on you?” Em remarked in an aside to Justin even as the boy was forcibly pulled away from him, back into the safety of Brian‘s embrace.

“If you two are going to fight over the kid, can you please hold on a minute till I get some popcorn. I don’t want to miss the show. Especially if it's going to result in clothing being torn off of any of the three of you,” Vic snarked with his characteristic, dirty old man leer.

“Please spare us the typical primal-male mating behavior,” Mel groused, taking Gus out of Lindsey’s arms and depositing the child into a booster seat that had been installed on one of the kitchen chairs. “I see enough of that shit every day at court. I don’t want to see it at dinner too.”

“Oh, Mel, they’re just goofing around. Besides, It’s not every day we get to tease Brian about having a new beau. Frankly, I think it’s adorable,” Lindsay commented, adding her two cents as she took the seat beside her son.

Ted held out the next chair over for Mel and then took his own seat. “Does anyone else find this conversation completely surreal? I mean, I’m still not over the whole ‘Brian Kinney’s got a boyfriend’ revelation. I thought for sure Michael was just pulling my leg when he told us. But, now that I see you in person, Justin, it all makes sense. Who knew they grew gay boys like that out in Redneck, West Virginia?”

“Now, Teddy, you know better than anyone, gay kids are everywhere,” Debbie admonished as she bustled around the kitchen carrying plates and bowls and serving dishes here and there with an officious air.

“And thank fuck for that,” Brian replied, towing his ghost after him to the end of the table where he could take up the seat next to his son. “Although, even I found the pickings to be pretty slim out in the boonies before I found Justin. If it hadn’t been for Grindr, I might’ve had to resort to importing my regular tricks from the city and, you know, that just gets really expensive after a while when you live that far away from town.”

“So, you’re saying you only started seeing Justin in order to save money?“ Ben teased in his quietly witty manner.

“Of course. I find live-in twinkies are incredibly convenient. Everyone should have one,” Brian rejoined with a smile aimed at his ghost, intended to take away any sting from his words.

“I’m sure Justin‘s not there just as a convenient bed warmer,” Lindsay admonished the table full of lusting gay men before she turned her attention back to their guest. “Michael tells us you do construction, Justin? I’m sure that’s helpful, especially when Brian‘s renovating that whole big house.”

“Construction is just a side gig for Justin,” Brian interrupted, beaming proudly at his boyfriend. “He’s actually a pretty amazing artist.”

“Oh really? What medium do you work in?” Lindsey asked with interest.

“Lindz is the Manager of a local art gallery,” Mel added for clarification.

Justin, who hadn’t managed to get a word in yet in this conversation, finally spoke up. “Brian’s exaggerating. I draw a little, and paint, but it’s really nothing.”

“Stop being modest,” Brian ordered. “His stuff is really amazing. He doesn’t just draw and paint, he also does wood sculpture. And, speaking of which . . .” Brian turned towards his son, lifted him out of the booster seat, and sat the boy down on his feet next to the table. “Gus can you run over to the door and get the little purple bag I left on the floor by the coats?” Gus scampered off, delighted to have been included in whatever the surprise was, racing back in less than a minute with the gift bag his father sent him after. “Justin made this for you, Debbie, as a thank you for dinner.”

Debbie tottered over, setting down the huge bowl of pasta she’d just prepared and sank into her own seat before accepting her present. “Oh, Sunshine, that’s so sweet. You didn’t have to do that, Honey.” Of course, she was already digging into the tissue paper wrapped around the heavy object in the bottom of the bag.

What she unearthed was a beautifully executed sculpture of a man crouched on his haunches. The artist had employed an amazing technique in its craftsmanship, utilizing negative space to offset the little statue’s torso from the body below. It was ingenious and beautiful and truly one of a kind.

“Damn! That’s beautiful, Sunshine. I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life. Thank you, Honey. I love it,” Debbie gushed.

After that, Brian figured his work was done. He simply leaned back in his chair and watched proudly as everyone ooh’d and ahh’d over the beautiful sculpture. Lindsey was particularly impressed, repeatedly attempting to get the boy to agree to show her more of his work. Justin predictably demurred. Meanwhile, everyone else in the room chattered and cooed and praised the boy for the rest of the meal. Justin actually took very little part in the conversation, although by the end of dinner he’d opened up a little bit. Brian didn’t care, he was just glad that everyone seemed so accepting of his little show-and-tell project boyfriend.

Before Debbie could stuff Justin with a third helping of cannoli, Brian pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, indicating to all that dinner was over. He carefully extracted Gus - who had climbed into Justin’s lap and fallen sound asleep a few minutes before - from the blond’s grasp, kissed the sweet little forehead, and handed the slumbering bundle off to his Mommy. Then Brian offered his hand to help Justin to his feet too.

“Well, it’s been a slice, people, but I’m going to take my boyfriend home to bed now ‘cause it’s been almost,” Brian looked over at the ancient wall clock hanging over Debbie’s stove, “four hours since we last fucked. We are way past due.”

“Okay, now I know you’re just saying that over and over again to rub it in,” Michael groused amicably.

“Saying what, Mikey? ‘Fuck’? I always say ‘fuck’,” Brian replied.

“No. The ‘B’ word,” Michael clarified.

“Oh, you mean BOYFRIEND?” Brian enunciated the word very clearly, enjoying all over again the way it made Michael cringe and roll his eyes. “Because that’s what Justin is, Mikey. He’s my BOYFRIEND. Yes, it’s true, Brian Kinney has a BOYFRIEND . . .”

While Brian was, indeed, rubbing this point in, he’d also pulled Justin around so that the boy was standing in front of him, with Brian’s long arms wrapped around his chest possessively, and was rocking the pair of them side to side, almost chanting the word ‘boyfriend’ in a goofy way that had pretty much the entire room laughing.

“Did I say surreal? I meant downright bizarre,” Ted quipped with an amused smile. “If I were you, Justin, I’d run for the hills right now, because ‘Boyfriend Brian’ is just ridiculously silly. Just go. Quickly. Save yourself.”

“I kinda like ridiculously silly Boyfriend Brian,” Justin asserted, tipping his head to the side so that the boyfriend holding him could more easily leave a kiss on his blushing cheek.

“Don’t you mean, ridiculously romantic Boyfriend Brian?” Brian teased and then lifted his head to survey the crowd of staring onlookers. “Okay, then. Dinner was great, Deb. We’re off to fuck now. Later, guys.”

They were halfway back to West Virginia before the ghost finally spoke up and broke through the comfortable silence that had settled in the car as they drove home. “That was nice. I really like your friends, Brian.”

“They’re not bad. Some of the time,” Brian agreed peeking out of the corner of his eye at the boy who was sitting there smiling at all his memories of the pleasant evening. “I told you it wouldn’t be that horrible.”

“I know. I guess, maybe, I just worry too much,” Justin semi-apologised. “Thank you for pushing me to go, Brian. I DID enjoy myself. And it was wonderful to see Gus again. I think I’m seriously in love with your son. I’d probably keep on sleeping with you just so I could get to see him, you know,” he teased. “He’s so sweet. And funny too. I think he’s gonna have your same odd sense of humor.”

Brian snorted a laugh at that image - although he hoped Gus wouldn’t be as crass and sarcastic as he was, at least not for a few more years - but he was amused and just a little bit proud of the comparison with his offspring.

“You totally nailed your descriptions of all of them, though,” Justin commented, still with a fond smile.

The two of them continued chatting about the evening, laughing again at all the raunchy, funny jokes that always seemed to swirl around the group, complaining about how ‘touchy’ Emmett had been and how annoyed he managed to make Brian because he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off Justin, and alternately complementing and complaining about all the food. That discussion got them all the way to the exit where Brian turned off the highway onto the small two-lane road that wound around through the hills and woods towards the house. It was a dark night and had started to drizzle so Brian wasn’t going very fast, taking his time negotiating around the hairier turns on the deserted road.

They were still a good three or four miles from home, though, when their conversation was interrupted by a loud *boom* and the car started to swerve dangerously from side to side. If Brian had been going faster, they would have probably landed in the ditch. Luckily, he managed to wrestle the car to a stop halfway off the edge of an embankment, rocking precariously, but still upright.

“Shit! What the hell?” Brian was panting as he looked around him. “Are you okay, Ghost?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. What happened?”

“I think one of the tires blew.”

They both got carefully out of the car and walked around to examine the right rear tire, which was completely shredded. Unfortunately, the way the car had landed, that wheel was dangling hazardously off the edge of the road, so there was no way for Brian to safely jack the car up and replace it with the spare. As it was, Brian was afraid to even try and move the vehicle back to a more stable footing - if anything went wrong the whole thing would tip over and roll down the steep shoulder of road. Justin moved off, going around to the front side of the car, examining the situation and yelling out reassurances to his boyfriend that they’d come up with some solution.

“Good thing I have coverage for this kind of shit,” Brian muttered to himself as he walked in the opposite direction, heading to a spot a dozen meters away where there happened to be an old pine tree that would provide at least partial shelter from the increasingly heavy precipitation. “I hope it doesn’t take them too long to get all the way out here. We’re going to be fucking soaked.”

Brian already had his cell phone in hand and quickly dialed the number that came up when he did a quick search for the tow service. It took no time at all to give the operator the details of their situation and approximate location. The man on the line said that Brian was in luck - they had someone who could be there in less than fifteen minutes. Brian hung up, satisfied that he’d handled matters and called out to Justin to come join him under the tree before he caught his death of pneumonia.

“I was thinking, if we gathered together some rocks from over there,” Justin pointed to the far side of the road, “we could use them to prop up the back end of the car. Then it should be stable enough to let us get the old tire off.”

“No need. I already called Triple-A. Their guy is already on the way. They said he should be here in about fifteen minutes,” Brian promised, thinking his ghost would be pleased to get out of the rain that fast.

“FUCK!” Justin screeched, jumping back away from Brian and looking around him like a hunted animal. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Brian looked around him, totally confused and thinking that maybe Justin was hurt or something.

“You called Triple-A? Fuck, Brian! Why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I, Justin? The tire is shredded and it’s not safe to change it ourselves the way the car’s hanging over that cliff. Of course I called the fucking service. That’s the whole fucking point of having a tow service, isn’t it?”

“Because, Brian, the guy who operates the local towing service for AAA is Bing Jenkins - Connie Jenkins’ younger son. If, or should I say ‘when’, it gets back to Connie that I’m still around, I’ll be royally screwed.”

Brian was about to question his boy further, still confused by why that should matter, but there wasn’t any time. Before he could open his mouth, the sound of a car’s engine coming around the bend interrupted their conversation, followed by the gleam of headlights turning their way. With one last, panicked ‘fuck’, the ghost was gone, pelting off through the trees and across the fields that led off into the dark, rain-shrouded night.

“Justin? Justin! What the hell?” Brian yelled after the retreating form, but his ghost had dematerialized into the ether before he’d gone more than a dozen meters.

Which is just when the tow truck pulled up next to him and a sociable, drawling voice greeted Brian with a hearty, “Evenin’. You Mr. Kinney? The service sent me. Looks like you got yourself into quite a pickle here.”

“Yeah. That’s me. And I do seem to be in a pickle,” Brian answered, thinking not so much about his car but about the perplexing pickle he was in with his GhostBoy.

It took less than thirty minutes for Mr. Jenkins - ‘Bing’ to all his friends - to sort out Brian’s car. The big, beefy mechanic quickly got the car towed back off the shoulder of the road, jacked it up and switched out the shredded tire with a brand new one. He mentioned several times how lucky Brian had been not to have rolled the car, considering how serious the blow out looked. But, all things considered, it was relatively easily fixed and Jenkins was a decent enough sort, it seemed. Brian thanked him with a large tip and told Bing to tell his mother ‘hi’ for him the next time he saw her.

That got Brian a chuckle, and an, “oh, you’re THAT Brian. Moms will be tickled when I tell her I saved her new favorite from a dark and rainy night. I’ll tell her you said ‘hello’.”

Then the tow truck pulled away from the scene, leaving Brian standing next to his now operational vehicle. Only, he didn’t know what to do next. He had no idea where his ghost had disappeared to or whether he was coming back. And he was still a little freaked out about the way the kid had totally lost it right before he’d disappeared. Brian had thought, after the pleasant and relaxing evening they’d had at Debbie’s, that maybe Justin was becoming less anxious about coming out of hiding. But this . . . this was something beyond just social anxiety or lingering PTSD from whatever his father had subjected him to. This was much more concerning. It was time for Brian to demand some answers.

Just when he was about to give up waiting and drive on home, hoping the ghost would turn up on his own, Brian was startled by a rustling of the bushes at the side of the road. A second later, his rain-drenched ghost materialized out of the darkness and climbed up the embankment toward the waiting car. The kid was even soggier than Brian, since his jacket had been left in the car when he’d dashed off into hiding. The long blond hair was plastered to his scalp and rain was dripping down his face. Brian didn’t care, though. He was sufficiently pissed off enough that he wanted answers and he wanted them now.

“What the hell is your fucking problem, Justin?” Brian yelled before the kid was even back on even ground. “Why did you bolt like that without telling me where the fuck you were going? I didn’t know what the hell happened to you or when you’d be back. And it’s fucking dark and cold out here. You could have gotten lost or hurt . . .”

“I’m fine, Brian. A little wet, but it’s no big deal,” Justin returned, slightly abashed over how angry Brian was.

“Well, it’s a big deal to me, Justin. I’m NOT fine. I’m confused. And I’m tired of whatever this game is that you’re playing. I want to know what the fuck your problem is. I don’t buy that you’re just afraid of people or that your dad convinced you that everyone would hate you for being gay. You were just fine tonight at dinner and you heard the Quilting Ladies talking about how they’d be okay with you being gay. So tell me, Justin, why the fuck are you so damned worried about Connie Fucking Jenkins or her fucking son? Tell me!” Brian demanded, standing there, toe-to-toe with the wet wraith in the middle of nowhere in the rain, and refusing to move till he finally had some answers.

“I’m not worried about Connie or Bing Jenkins,” Justin yelled back, his anger level rising to match Brian’s. “I’m worried about Buddy Jenkins . . . you know, Connie’s other other son? The one who’s a fucking Deputy Sheriff.”

“What the fuck difference does that make, Justin?” Brian demanded, still too upset and worried and pissed off to modulate his tone even a little. “Why the fuck would you care who knows about you, Justin? Whatever shit your father did to you, nobody’s going to arrest you for that. And it’s not illegal to be gay - not even in fucking West Virginia.”

“No. But it IS still a crime to shoot your father, even if he was a drunken, abusive, homophobic, bigot that didn’t deserve to live!” Justin screamed back at a now completely shocked, paralysed and speechless Brian Kinney.