"I'm telling you, Brian, it was the craziest fucking thing I have ever seen him do," Justin tells me, his eyes bright with wonder.

I have been in meetings all day but I did get four messages from Mikey about his altercation with Justin this afternoon. And I'm sure that Michael, of course, ranted to everyone about the incident as well. I know I shouldn't be surprised at what Justin has just told me, but I am. What Justin described sounds crazy, even for Mikey.

"Did you ask him why he did it?" I watch Justin closely to see if maybe he and Mikey are playing some kind of weird prank on me.

"Of course I did, Brian, but he denied having done anything. He said I did it."

I pull Justin to me, uncaring that I'm still in my suit, and as always it feels fucking amazing when he wraps his arms around my waist. I inhale deeply, the smell of turpentine and oil paint fills my sinuses; it's just further proof that he spent time in his studio today. Well, that and the paint on his clothes (which had better be completely dry now that I think about it) as well as the new colors in his hair and the smudge on his forehead.

"I believe you. Come on, let's take a shower, fuck, and take another shower. The take-out I ordered should be here in about an hour. Then we'll meet the guys at Woody's and listen to Mikey rant and try to figure out what his problem is. What do you say?" I squeeze him a bit closer and slide my right hand inside the back of his pants to fondle his ass. He moans deeply before he answers me.

"Yes to the shower, definite yes to the fuck, yes to another shower and take-out. Not so sure about Woody's."

I smile at him and start walking him backwards toward the bathroom. We can negotiate Woody's while we fuck... no while we eat. Yeah, while we eat.