Chapter 27 - Blues In The Night.

Brian rubbed the back of his neck as he thought over Justin’s demand for an explanation. Where to start? This was bound to be a rather long discussion and it was already getting pretty late. Perhaps some dinner along with their talk would make what he had to tell the irate blond a little more palatable?

“I will do my best to explain everything, Justin, I promise. But how about we order some dinner first?” Brian proposed, getting no response at first from his blond. “I know you’re impatient to get into this, Blue Eyes, but it’s late and neither of us have eaten yet. Plus, you’re going to need something in your stomach before you can take your pain meds. Is that okay with you?”

Justin reluctantly nodded and took a seat on the end of the bed while Brian walked across the room to the desk where the house phone was waiting. Picking up the receiver, Brian made quick work of ordering dinner for the both of them. Filet mignon steaks, avocado side salads, and in an attempt to placate the annoyed boy who was still glaring at him, he decided to add an order of steak fries, just in case. He also requested, not one, but two bottles of the house red and a large piece of the hotel’s sinfully delicious Triple Chocolate Torte. Hopefully his mother’s trite old saying about how the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach also applied to gay WWII pilots.

Once the food was ordered, though, Brian couldn’t think of any other way to delay the inevitable and he unenthusiastically made his way over to join Justin on the bed.

“I need you to let me finish before you say anything, okay?” Brian started off, waiting for Justin’s silent nod before he continued. “So, it all started that first night I met you. I was here, in that alley, just walking around and looking at the architecture when this electrical storm blew up. Before I could get in out of the rain, there was this bolt of lightning that hit the building next to where I was standing and I got knocked out. When I came to . . . everything just seemed different. And the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a fucking air raid and you were there dragging me off to the underground shelter.”

“Brian . . .”

“Listen, Blue Eyes, I know this makes no sense . . . I know that, okay? Just give me a chance to tell it my way, please,” Brian pleaded, earning himself another sharp-eyed look from his otherwise silent blond. “Anyways . . . I didn’t know what to think at first. I kind of thought it was a joke or maybe some elaborate costume party or something. It wasn’t until the next morning, when we came out of the shelter and I saw all the destruction from the raid with my own eyes, that I realized it was all real. And then I sorta freaked out a bit. As soon as you left, though, I hobbled back to Duckett’s Passage, figured out the damn time portal and that was that.”

“Why’d you come back then,” Justin asked point blank. “Once you’d made it back to your own time, why didn’t you just stay put?”

“I don’t know . . . Maybe it had something to do with this fucking adorable little blue-eyed pilot I met or something?” Brian teased, leaning sideways so that he could bump his shoulder playfully against the younger man’s. But when he didn’t get the response he had been hoping for, only a frown, he hurried on. “I . . . I just couldn’t stay away, I guess. On top of the fact that I was hoping to get to know you better, there was also the thrill of it all. It was exciting, you know? Going back in time, getting to see things in person that I’d only read about in books, and getting to actually experience it all first hand. It was an adventure. And I was curious . . .”

“But you lied to me, Brian!” Justin turned so he was facing Brian directly, the anger that had been simmering below the surface finally bubbling up and erupting. “You lied to me the whole time we were together. You told me you were a War Correspondent. I saw your ID. And you let me think you were some kind of spy or something with all your gadgets. Meanwhile, all the time you were probably just laughing at me - the poor, clueless oaf who you were just toying with. Some kind of history experiment. You let me think you were actually falling in love with me, Brian!”

“Fuck, Justin! It wasn’t like that . . . It ISN’T like that, not at all,” Brian erupted right back at his accuser. “What did you expect me to do, huh? I couldn’t tell you the truth. You wouldn’t have believed me. Hell, you don’t even completely believe me even after seeing all this with your own eyes. What, exactly, did you expect me to do? Announce to you and all your friends I was a time traveler from the future? How soon after that would I have ended up in the nuthouse under a psychiatrist’s observation, huh? Fuck that!”

They both fell silent at that point, each stewing over their own private thoughts for several, long, anguished minutes.

Finally, Justin broke the stillness that had settled on the room. “But . . . it can’t be real. None of this. It makes no sense. How . . . ?”

“I still don’t know ‘how’, Justin,” Brian confessed, sounding almost as defeated as Justin apparently felt. “But I’m pretty sure it’s real. After spending a month with you in the past, almost getting blown up in more than one air raid, and everything else that’s happened to me back there, I’m pretty sure it’s one hundred percent real.” Brian turned his body so he was facing Justin directly to complete his next thought. “And whatever the fuck this is between us, that’s real too, Blue Eyes.”

That got him the first hint of a smile he’d seen on the younger man’s face all night.

“It does feel pretty real,” Justin agreed as he reached out to grab Brian’s hand with his own and squeezed it tightly. “But, what do we do now?”

“I’ve got no fucking idea,” Brian replied with a huge sigh.

They were both glad when their discussion was interrupted right then by a polite knock on the door. Brian got up and let the room service delivery in, telling the waiter to set everything up over on the table. Justin hovered nearby, looking hungrily at all the plates being set out. Brian couldn’t help but chuckle over the way Justin’s eyes bulged at the amount of food in front of him.

“Is this all for us?” the blond gasped.

“Yep. Have at it, Blue Eyes,” Brian smiled at him before turning to sign the room charge slip and tip the waiter.

By the time he was done, Justin was already seated at the table and eagerly uncovering all the plates.

“Oh my, goodness! This is so delicious! I’ve never tasted meat like this. It’s so tender and savory and . . . and . . .” Justin moaned as the first bite of his steak melted in his mouth. He quickly swallowed before moving on to the next dish. “What are these green things on the salad?” He speared a slice of avocado with his fork and then lifted it up to sniff suspiciously at the strange substance.

“That’s an avocado. They’re from California. It’s good for you - full of Vitamin C and shit. Stop sniffing it and eat already,” Brian ordered and assumed his seat next to Justin at the table.

Justin shoved the fork in his mouth, making a face at first because of the unfamiliar flavor and texture of the strange food. But, after a few more nibbles, he apparently decided the avocado was edible and happily speared another slice.

“Kinda creamy and green tasting. Not bad,” he pronounced.

“Green tasting?” Brian laughed as he started on his own steak at a more sedate pace. “Damn, Justin. The way you’re drooling over that steak, you’d think it was the best thing you’d ever had in your mouth . . . which we know isn’t true, since you’ve had my dick in there.”

Justin tried desperately to smirk and play along, even though his blushing cheeks undermined the effect he’d been going for. “Both are delicious . . . But one is definitely a little more so than the other,” the boy admitted shyly.

“I hope for your sake you meant my cock,” Brian teased, kicking Justin’s leg gently under the table so the blond would look up at him. “If you need a reminder . . .” the older man winked playfully.

Justin’s eyes glazed over at the thought. “Not that that doesn’t sound appealing, Handsome, But we still have lots to talk about.” Brian growled a little but didn’t try to argue the point. “So, of all the stuff you did tell me about yourself, what, if anything, was true?”

“Except for the fake ID and the War Correspondent thing,” Brian responded, “I didn’t lie about anything. At most, I just let you think what you wanted. But anything I did tell you about me was the truth.”

“So, you’re really from Pittsburgh?” Brian nodded. “Do you really have a son named Gus?”

“Of course. I would never lie about something like that,” Brian asserted adamantly. “Gus is real and so are his mothers, Lindsey and Melanie, and they really do live in Pittsburgh. And, even better, Gus is coming out to visit me in a couple weeks, so if you don’t believe me now, all you have to do is wait around and see for yourself when I introduce you two,” Brian offered hopefully. “That is, provided you're still speaking to me then . . .”

“Gus is coming here? But, isn’t that dangerous? What about the war?”

“You don’t think the war is still going on seventy-five years later, do you?” Brian asked mockingly, and then quickly changed his tone to placate the returning anger he saw in the glinting blue eyes. “ I promise you, it's perfectly safe for Gus to be here nowadays.”

Of course, that brought up a whole different topic of discourse for the intelligent little World War II fighter pilot. “So that’s how you knew about all the raids. Where they would happen and when? You’ve read about them in a history book or something?” Justin paused then as all the implications this line of thought brought up swamped his brain. “Applesauce! You know how it all ends, don’t you, Brian?”

“Yes. I know everything. Well, I know enough, and what I don’t know I can find out anytime I want,” Brian answered candidly, but then paused and thought a few seconds before continuing. “I promised you before, Justin, that I wouldn’t tell you anything more about what I knew in advance. That still stands. You . . . You might not want to know everything I know . . . But, if you DO want me to tell you, I will.”

Justin let his fork fall to the plate with a loud clattering sound as he leaned back in his chair and thought hard. The tired-looking blond scrubbed at his face with both hands; the way he rubbed his temples, along with the scrunched up face he made, let Brian know his boy was still suffering from the headache that had come along with the concussion. But even beyond that, you could tell how hard the young man was thinking at that moment, and how much the effort pained him. Brian did not envy Justin the decision he was about to have to make.

“Does England win in the end?” Justin finally queried, obviously asking what he thought was the most important question first.

“Yes. England and its allies win . . . But it’s a long and nasty war and the victory comes with some horrendous costs,” Brian qualified his answer while at the same time trying not to give more details than Justin had asked for.

“Well, that’s good, I guess,” Justin replied carefully.

After that, Justin fell silent again. He returned to his dinner, although he wasn’t digging in with quite the same amount of gusto as previously. Brian could almost see the gears and cogs in that little blond brain churning along at full speed as Justin thought through all the permutations of what Brian’s foreknowledge might mean. Brian quietly resumed his own meal while he waited to see what Justin would decide.

It wasn’t till his plate was almost bare, that Brian‘s personal RAF pilot finally spoke up again. “I don’t think I want to know anything more. At least not for the time being. I mean, I couldn’t do anything with the information, even if I had it, so it would probably only make me crazy. Does that make sense?”

“Perfectly,” Brian agreed. “And for what it’s worth, I think I would make the same call, if I were in your shoes. But, when you’re ready to know more . . . well, I just . . .” Brian gave a little frustrated grunt. “Damn it. This is all so fucked, isn’t it, Blue Eyes?”

“Pretty much,” Justin acceded. Then the youth pushed aside all the angst of that topic, picked up and drained his glass of wine, and apparently decided to move on. “So, your lightbox thing, and all the other gizmos you had, those were all from here? From the future? Like the hospital stuff - the MRI machine and all the rest of it?”

“Yep. You’d be amazed at how far technology has advanced from what you’re used to,” Brian responded, as happy to talk about something less dire as Justin seemed to be. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, tapped out the PIN to unlock the screen, and handed it over to Justin. “It’s actually called a cell phone or a mobile, though, not a lightbox.”

“This is a telephone too? How does it work though? There’s no cord or anything.” Justin asked, looking at the phone with new appreciation.

“It doesn’t need a cord. It works on a sort of radio wave type thing. Your voice is turned into little packets of data that are transmitted via microwave signals to a tower and then bounced up to a satellite in space and then transmitted back down to wherever the person is that you’re calling. Using that little box there,” Brian pointed to his phone, “I can call just about anywhere on the planet.”

“Applesauce . . . That’s . . . unbelievable, Brian,” Justin turned the slim little black casing of the cell phone over in his hands, shaking his head the whole time. Then he looked up at Brian with a childlike amazement and demanded, “show me.”

Brian chuckled, but at the same time reached over to grab the phone so he could comply. He laid the phone down on the tabletop between them and, going slowly so that Justin could see exactly what he was doing, touched first the little green icon for the ‘phone’ application and then, on the list of his ‘favorites’, he tapped the icon with the small round picture of Gus’ smiling face. Then Brian quickly put the call on speaker so Justin would be able to hear the conversation.

The call was picked up after only three rings. “Hey, Brian,” Lindsey’s melodious voice answered. “Thanks for calling back. Your son has been driving me crazy with questions about London all morning. Can you please talk him down for me, dad?”

“Sure thing, Lindz. Put him on,” Brian answered, smiling all the while at the look of wonder that had suffused Justin’s face from the second the call had gone through.

“Hi, Daddy!” Gus piped up a few seconds later.

“Hey, Sonny Boy. How’s my favorite son doing today?” Brian teased.

“Oh, Daddy! You’re soooo silly. I’m your only son!” Gus corrected with a giggle.

“Oh, that’s right. I guess I forgot,” Brian chuckled along. “Hey, Gus, I’ve got you on speaker and a friend of mine is here - can you say hi to my friend, Justin?”

“Hi, Jussin!” Gus yelled genially into the phone. “Are you a London person? You’re there with my Daddy in London, right? Can you talk London to me?”

Justin’s face almost split apart from the jumbo-sized smile this greeting evinced. “Hello there, Gus. Yes, I am here in London with your father, but I’m afraid I’m American, just like you, so I can’t talk like a Londoner for you.”

“Oh, well. That’s okay. I jes really want to talk London wiv someone. Did my Daddy telled you I was gonna come visit him in London? And we’re gonna go see the Queen’s horses and everything. Do you know the Queen, Jussin? Did you know she gets ta live in a real live castle an everything? Innat cool? I can’t wait to come visit. How much more days till I get to come visit, Daddy?”

Brian was as amazed as always that Gus could talk for so long without appearing to need to stop and breath. “Only fourteen more days, Sonny Boy.”

“Hmmm. That’s still a lotta days, huh? I wished it was only one day more, Daddy. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, Gus,” Brian admitted. “But it’s not that long. It’s only two weeks. And then we’ll get to do all the fun things you and I have planned, right?”

“Right! Well, I gotta go now, Daddy. Mommy is making Cheese ‘n Macroni for me for lunch an it’s my fav’rite so I gotsa go eat it now. ‘Kay, Daddy?”

“Okay, Sonny Boy,” Brian replied. “You be good for your moms and I’ll talk to you again soon.”

“Love you up to Jupiter and back down to a Polar Bear, Daddy!”

“You too, Gus,” Brian grinned happily. He couldn’t fucking wait for his kid to get there.

“Daddddddy,” the little boy whined. “You didn't say it back. You hasta say it back.”

Brian laughed as he rubbed at the stubble on his lightly pinkening cheeks. “I love you up to the International Space Station and all the way down to a hungry crocodile that is going to gobble you up if you don’t listen to your mommies.”

Gus giggled happily. “Wow. You loves me a lots, Daddy.”

“I do, Sonny Boy. Now, go eat your lunch, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy. And, bye bye, Mister Jussin. You were very nice even though you didn’t talk London to me. Byeeee.”

And with that, the kid hung up.

“He’s totally adorable, Brian,” Justin said, still looking at the miraculous phone/lightbox. “I still can hardly believe it, though. This thing just called Pittsburgh? Just like that? With no wires or operator or anything?” Brian shrugged and nodded. “Wow. You said before it did a lot of things and I guess you weren’t lying. You told me it’s a flashlight and a camera and it plays music. Now I see it’s also a telephone. So, what else does it do?”

“What doesn’t it do, would be a better question,” Brian responded with another laugh. “Come on. Bring your cake and your wine over to the couch and I’ll show you,” he suggested as he refilled both their wine glasses and then ushered the boy over to the couch.

Brian spent the next twenty minutes explaining to his wide-eyed neophyte all about cell phones. Justin had to tap on every single app and then demand Brian explain each one as they went. The boy was rightfully amazed at all the clever and useful things Brian’s cell phone could do. He was like a little kid, trying everything out and marveling loudly at it all.

Brian himself had never really thought about it much - he’d just accepted all the technology that came along with his smartphone - but looking at the device through Justin’s eyes, he saw the thing in a whole new light. This one little box that fit in the palm of his hand represented at least twenty different machines in Justin’s world. It was not only a telephone, it was a clock, a camera, and a flashlight. It was also a stereo, an alarm, a stopwatch, a timer, a calendar, an address book, a calculator, a video camera, a tape recorder, a typewriter, a dictation machine, a pedometer, a barometer, a compass, a global atlas, a television, a movie projector, a game console and a computer. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that, with this one small device, Brian could access the entirety of the internet and all of the wealth of information that permitted. With that added connection, his phone became a bank, a school, a newspaper, a movie theater, a laboratory, a research tool, a cultural center, a transportation facilitator, and even a library, the breadth and extent of which was unparalleled in history. It truly was a remarkable and frightening piece of technology when you thought about it.

And that was just one little part of all the incredible things the future held for someone like Justin.

Eventually Brian got up and left his boy there on the couch, nibbling at his cake and playing with the cell phone, while he used the hotel phone to call Cynthia and apologize again for his behavior earlier in the day. She accepted with grudging grace. Then Brian begged her to reschedule all his Monday meetings for him so they could both take the day off. Brian figured he’d need that time to figure out what he was going to do about his time traveling stowaway boy.

“What does this mean, Brian?” Justin asked as soon as he’d hung up with his assistant - who’d agreed to clear his calendar for him after much pleading. “It says ‘low power warning’. I didn’t break it, did I?”

“No. The battery just needs charging,” Brian explained, taking the phone out of the younger man’s hands and using the cable next to his bed to plug it in. “But that reminds me that you should be recharging too, not sitting up all night playing on my cell phone. I was supposed to be taking care of you and that concussion . . . Oh, damn - I wasn’t supposed to let you drink alcohol either, was I?” Brian looked at the empty wine glass sitting on the table next to the couch. “Fuck. I totally forgot about that. You don’t feel sick or dizzy or anything do you?”

“Nah. I’m fine,” Justin reassured. “Even the headache is pretty much gone since you made me take that pill. But I guess I am a bit tired.” The admission triggered a yawn that cinched the matter in Brian’s mind. “Sorry, but I only got a short nap this morning after I finished my mission, and it’s been a pretty eventful day.”

“Then it’s definitely bedtime for all exhausted little blue-eyed boys,” Brian announced as he bent to pull the bedspread off the bed. “Do you want to shower now, or are you too tired?”

Justin didn’t answer immediately. He seemed to be looking around the room undecidedly. Brian was feeling pretty damned tired himself by that point so it was probably excusable that he didn’t pick up on the kid’s confusion. When Justin did speak up, though, Brian wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel rejected.

“Um, so . . . Shouldn’t we, um, go back?” Justin asked.

“Go back?” Brian asked dumbly.

“Yeah. You know . . . Back to the right time . . . MY time . . .” Brian must have still looked confused because Justin blushed and then stuttered on through his explanation. “It’s just that I figured we’d go back to . . . to 1941 . . .”

“Why?” Brian questioned, completely flummoxed by this turn of events. “There’s a bed right here and we’re both tired. There’s no need to go trudging around outside, only to go back in time to the very same hotel, seventy-five years in the past. Is there?”

“I don’t know. It’s just . . . Well, it feels funny being here and all. I feel out of place. Like I don’t belong or something . . .” Justin looked around himself at everything he still didn’t understand in the room and seemed to shrink in on himself. “It just doesn’t feel right here.”

“Oh, Blue Eyes,” Brian chuckled, walking around the bed so he could wrap his arms around the boy’s slender waist. “You have to stop being so fucking adorable all the time. It’s far too distracting, you know.”

Justin blushed one of his signature pink blushes and tried to squirm out of Brian’s hold. “Don’t make fun of me, Brian. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s what makes it so adorable,” Brian answered and then got serious himself. “There’s a lot of reasons, though, to stay put here, Justin. One, you’re still recovering from being hit by a fucking car and are under a doctor’s care - a doctor that just happens to be here, in this time period. And I’d feel a lot better if we stayed here in case anything happened, especially since I already fucked up and gave you alcohol. If I do need to call the doctor or get help, I can do it a lot faster here than back in 1941.” Justin seemed to be thinking that point over while Brian carried on with his list. “Two, it just doesn’t make any logical sense to go running around through time when we’re both this exhausted. This bed is perfectly good; I promise you. And even if you feel a little out of place, I’ll still be here with you, no matter what.” Justin smiled at that assurance. “And three, there’s a lot more stuff here that I’d like to share with you, Justin, but we’re both too tired for all that now. Couldn’t you stick around for one more night, if I promise to take you back later tomorrow morning . . . After we’ve have some fun?”

“You realize, you’re a very hard man to argue with,” Justin stated with a resigned sigh.

“I’m a very hard man, period, Blue Eyes,” Brian joked, pulling their lower bodies together in demonstration and earning himself a little giggle from his audience of one. “But we’re both way too pooped for that right now. So, how about we just get some sleep and save that for the morning too? Okay?”

“Fine,” Justin capitulated. “I guess you’ve talked me into it, Handsome.

It wasn’t long before both men had stripped off and Justin was happily situated in Brian’s arms in the luxurious king size bed. The fluffy white duvet molded perfectly to their bodies as they both snuggled down into the comforting warmth. Justin had to concede that twenty-first century beds certainly were comfortable.

“Try and get some sleep, Blue Eyes,” Brian mumbled sleepily as he kissed the back of Justin’s head and closed his eyes, the long day having apparently caught up with him the moment his head touched the pillow.

The blond yawned loudly and wiggled back into Brian’s embrace. “‘Kay. Sleep well, Brian.”

There was no denying how tired Justin was. He felt both physically and mentally exhausted after the last few days. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to fall asleep, but there was something stopping him. This had never been a problem for Justin before; he was usually out like a light within a couple of minutes of climbing into bed - no matter where he was - and he’d slept in some fairly uncomfortable places thanks to his time in the RAF. He was beyond shattered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the exhaustion, but it didn’t seem like it was going to happen that night.

He tossed and turned in Brian’s arms for several minutes, eventually causing the older man to tighten his grip around the blond’s waist. “What’s up, Blue Eyes?”

That’s when it hit Justin. “It’s . . . It’s so loud in here. I’m not used to all this noise. I think it’s preventing me from going to sleep,” he whispered quietly.

“Loud?” Brian mumbled. “What noise? I don’t hear anything . . .”

“You can’t . . . you can’t hear that?”

Brian lifted himself up onto his elbow and listened carefully. “Oh, you mean the cars outside?” He asked, laying himself back down and running his fingers through the spiky blond hair. “I guess I just don’t notice it anymore.”

Justin turned in Brian’s arms and pressed his nose into the older man’s chest. “They’re really loud. And it’s just so . . . so bright outside. Even though it’s nighttime . . . it’s really strange.”

Brian untangled himself from Justin, climbed out of bed and padded over to the large plate glass window to the left of them,  pulling the drapes shut. “There, does that help?”

The curtains not only blocked out the light, but helped muffle the outside noises a little too. Once Brian was back in bed and had gathered Justin to him again, it did seem better. And, with his head now resting on Brian’s chest, the primal lub-dub, lub-dub of his lover’s heartbeat seemed to block out the other, more disturbing noises.

“That helps a lot, Brian. Night,” he replied, and finally let himself drift off to sleep.