It didn't take long for Brian to convince the group of bears using the pool table to leave - he may have been gone for a while, but he was still Brian Kinney. As far as Justin was concerned Woody's hadn't changed at all since Brian's last visit. There was the occasional new face, but nearly everyone knew who Brian Kinney was.

The downside of that was that everyone also knew that he'd been gone for a long time.

The whispers started almost immediately - fags were never subtle about gossip. Brian hadn't been in Woody's or Babylon for months, but he had been at the diner. Justin was a little surprised to realise that he must've been missing hearing gossip for a while - the boys of Liberty Avenue must've been talking about Brian after his sudden retreat from the club scene - but then he'd been spending most of his free time with the man of the moment, away from gossiping eyes.

Had Brian considered how the people who *weren't* his friends would react? Most of the men on Liberty had been fucked or rejected by him - which could lead to quite a nasty following.

So Justin kept a close eye on him, but Brian didn't seem to be bothered by anything at all. Well, except the game of pool they were playing.

"Fuck!" he cursed, as a striped ball ricocheted out of the intended pocket.

"Hmm," Ted mused with obvious amusement, "it seems you're getting rusty in your old age."

"Not as rusty as you," Brian retorted, squinting down at the table, still holding on tightly to the cue stick. "I bet you even squeak when you fuck." Sighing eventually, he held the stick out to Ted. "Here, you take a shot. I'm getting drinks. What do you guys want?"

Ted just asked for beer; Emmett a Dirty Shirley. Brian headed for the bar and Justin decided to join him, figuring an extra pair of hands would save him the trouble of making two trips.

Brian smirked towards him as they walked. "Come to make sure I don't drink anything bad, Sunshine?"

"Believe it or not," Justin replied, "I do actually think you can take care of yourself. Just thought I'd help with the carrying." He wasn't upset - Brian getting defensive wasn't exactly unexpected behaviour, especially given the situation.

Reaching the bar, Brian leant against it and turned towards him. He stared at him intently for a while, seemingly trying to figure something out. "I can take care of myself, huh? That's good to know."

"Sure," Justin agreed. "You can take care of yourself. You just have a lot more fun when you let me babysit you," he finished with a mischievous grin, knowing that just because they were at Woody's, Brian wouldn't want him to take it easy on him. Though it could frustrate the fuck out of him, Brian loved being challenged.

It had the expected reaction.

"You little *shit*," Brian grabbed him, tugging him closer - then immediately started tickling. "I don't need you to fucking babysit me."

Oh, shit. Justin hated being tickled, and Brian fucking knew it. "Brian. Brian!" he screeched, trying to slap his hands away, trying not laugh and failing miserably. "Stop, stop it!" Justin bumped into a guy on a stool behind him and heard a grumbled complaint, but it didn't stop Brian for a single moment.

"Say it," Brian insisted, grinning.

The man was *evil*. Justin was trying to pull Brian's right hand away from his side when he gave in. "I didn't mean it! I was - shit - joking, okay!"

Smirking in satisfaction, Brian released him. "That'll teach ya."

"Oh, yeah," Justin stepped back quickly, still feeling paranoid, "the big, bad, Brian Kinney tickled me into submission. That's one to feel proud of."

He nearly jumped when a smiling Brian reached out to grab him again, but this time it was to pull him into a kiss. Not about to resist that, Justin didn't fight it at all, enjoying the feel of Brian's mouth against his even as his quivering fingers pressed against Brian's sides.

"You tickle me," Brian said against his lips, "and I will never fuck you again."

Sighing, Justin slumped his shoulders and pulled away - and it was only then that he noticed they were the centre of attention. This wasn't just gossiping queens or nosey fags - this was absolutely everybody in Woody's staring at them. Flushing, Justin looked away and leant next to Brian on the bar as they ordered their drinks.

Oh, well. At least he was back with a bang. Brian had always loved melodrama.

"And what do you want?" Brian asked, completely unfazed as he turned to look at him.

Okay. Justin could be unfazed too. "Whatever you're having."

He wasn't impressed, frowning. "Have what *you* want. We're in a fucking bar, for Christ's sake. Don't avoid alcohol just because I-"

"I *am* doing what I want," Justin argued. "Haven't I always?" It was the truth, but he did have another reason. When they kissed later - and they would kiss later - he didn't want Brian to taste alcohol on his mouth or in his breath.

Eyeing him sceptically, Brian turned back towards the barman. "What's the most disgusting non-alcoholic drink you have on the menu?"

Justin slapped him on the arm, and Brian ordered two ginger beers.

The rest of the evening went as fine as it could, and Justin witnessed more than a few Brian highs and lows. Every now and then he'd start behaving like a defensive asshole, but then suddenly he'd be handling the situation so well that Justin was almost convinced that he was dealing with a different man.

They played pool, Brian and Ted made fun of each other, Emmett squealed about Steve - Brian told him he should bring the guy along next time ("If he's that hot, I've probably fucked him.") - and they all wondered how Michael would enjoy Paris.

"He's going to *love* it," Emmett told them sincerely. "I've never been there myself, but it's always looked fabulous in the movies, don't you think?"

"The problem with France," Brian lined up another shot, "is that it's full of French people." Taking the shot, he nodded triumphantly when this one went in.

Ted translated the implication. "The French aren't exactly Brian's favourite people right now."

Right. Lindsay and her French husband-to-be. That entire situation sucked. Justin didn't know what the hell Lindsay was thinking. "I know you guys have already talked to her, but do you think there's anything else we can do to talk Lindsay out of it?"

"She's pretty insistent," was all the help Brian gave, leaning over the pool table again.

"There's always reporting her," Ted suggested, but it was clear no one was about do that.

"Oh!" Em snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. "We could report him for cruelty to animals!" Having no idea what Em was talking about, Justin just stared at him blankly until he started explaining. "He served rabbit. *Rabbit*. Bunny rabbit!" Huh.

"Need I remind you," Ted butted in, "that you ate some? And enjoyed it?"

"That's not the point," he sniffed. "I'm still opposed to the basic idea."

Justin had certainly heard of rabbit being served before, but he'd never eaten it himself. "What did it taste like?"

Ted and Emmett looked at each other. "Chicken."

Just then a hot guy passed their table - a newcomer since Brian's absence, Justin suspected - and eye-fucked Brian for a good ten seconds. Wasting no time at all, Brian stood up from his latest shot and lay the cue stick on the table. "I'm taking a leak."

He'd known this would be a possibility - Brian, back in his old stomping grounds after months away, reclaiming what he'd missed - so Justin plastered a smile on his face and let him do whatever he had to. "Okay!"

Ted didn't look at him. Emmett just smiled, very carefully not giving Justin a sympathetic look - thank God. Stepping around and away from the table, Brian approached Hot Guy and slowed right down as he passed him, scant inches between their bodies, initiating the eye-fuck himself this time...and then, completely ignoring Hot Guy, he turned back to face the guys at the pool table.

"Justin, you coming?"

Shock blinded him to a few things. Ted may have snorted out a laugh; Em may have been clapping, delighted; Hot Guy may have looked confused as hell - but Justin just saw Brian's small smirk, the fuck 'em all expression on his face, and the challenge in his eyes.

Don't back down, Sunshine. Not now.

In a few jogged steps he was next to him, ignoring Hot Guy and grinning up at Brian so widely his face was probably nothing but teeth. Realising that was a gross mental image he laughed but shook his head when Brian looked at him curiously.

Throwing an arm around Justin's shoulder - and yes, Justin was very, very aware of how it looked to everyone watching and yes, it did make him very, very pleased - Brian guided the both of them into the bathroom, and then a cubicle.

When Justin locked the door, Brian turned him around and pushed him back against it, leaning in for a demanding kiss. Pulling back afterward, Brian just looked down at him, and Justin waited to see what was going to happen.

Biting on his bottom lip, Brian spat it out. "I've given you plenty of reason to think so in the past, but..." he paused. "Even I'm not that much of an asshole."

"I know," Justin said quietly, "I *know*." And that was the kicker - he really *did* know. Probably better than anyone else. But sometimes even he forgot how far Brian had come, how much he'd changed. There'd been so many Brian behaviours he'd had to accept in the past, things he'd just had to get used to, and old habits were hard to break. As much as he liked to think he knew Brian well, could always judge his behaviour, every now and then the old insecurities cropped up and he forgot something vital he'd learnt.

But then he'd never claimed to be perfect. He was just doing the best he could.

"Good," Brian replied, accepting it for the truth it was. "Besides, shit like that really pisses me off."

"Shit like what?"

"Anyone with two brains cells could see that we were here together." Okay - there was *another* surprise. Jesus. "When I used to think you were just a fuck it didn't matter so much, but now that we're..." He stopped, either not knowing how to define it, or thinking he'd said too much.

The opportunity was there. Justin *had* to take it. "Fuck buddies? Partners? Happily monogamous?" With each question, Brian's expression got darker and darker. "Soulmates?" He knew he shouldn't be teasing him, that he was fucking up, but it was just so *surreal*. They were finally, actually talking about *them* - and they were doing it in a toilet cubicle in Woody's.

"Look," Brian warned, "all I know is that you're my best fucking friend and I keep fucking you. Which goes against pretty much everything I've ever believed in. Don't push it."

Justin's humour faded as the words sunk in. Holy shit. Best friend? He knew Brian and Michael hadn't been close for months now, but what about Lindsay, or...

Wow. He really *was* Brian's best friend.

Reaching up with his right hand, he tugged Brian's head down - meeting a glare, but no resistance - and spoke mere millimetres away from his mouth. "Promise not to tell if you won't."

When they returned to the pool table, their hair was mussed up and their clothes were wrinkled. Neither one of them gave a fuck.

Turning to Ted, Emmett arched an eyebrow. Sighing, Ted took a twenty out of his wallet and handed it over.

*

The rest of the week passed in a blur of near-delirious bliss. School was still annoying, but he and Brian seemed to have reached this...well, he didn't want to say 'point in their relationship', or 'level of understanding' or some shit like that. But for once they were both on exactly the same page. They could tease and mock and play with each other, but neither one of them got angry. In fact, Justin realised he was smiling nearly all the time - whether they were alone together or not, which seemed to amuse the hell out of Vic and Deb (she kept pinching his cheek at the diner; he kept adjusting his glasses knowingly).

Justin didn't care. Nearly every single night he got to fall asleep next to Brian who - though he'd long been hoping - he was seriously starting to think might love him back. He'd always known that Brian cared about him more than he wanted to admit, but love for Brian had been an alien concept, something he fought against.

These days he didn't seem to be fighting so hard.

When Michael and David arrived back in town, they invited everyone over to see their holiday pictures. Justin was looking forward to it, figuring it might be a good opportunity to see French architecture - and maybe some art - up close.

It turned out to be lots of pictures of Michael and David standing in *front* of great works of architecture, and that was something Justin had no interest in seeing. Luckily, Brian also turned out to be bored, and in the darkness - Michael was showing the images on a projection screen - it was easy to shift until he was sitting on Brian's lap, and even easier to start kissing him.

They stayed that way for a while, kissing, groping, sometimes whispering something to each other - and then Debbie whapped them on the head. They were curled up on one end of the sofa together; she was sitting on a chair behind them.

"Would you two cut it out?"

What the hell? They'd only been kissing.

"Ma," Michael complained, "you're interrupting."

"It's French," Brian explained, not looking away from Justin. "We're frenching." Moving his head in again, he stuck his tongue out deliberately. Grinning, Justin did the same until their tongues - then their mouths - met. Kissing Brian always felt good, but using tongues always felt a little more carnal, always made Justin's pulse speed up.

Michael continued his spiel about whatever picture they were looking at now - and then ended it. That, apparently, was the end of the presentation, and someone flicked the lights on.

Sighing in contentment, Justin regretfully broke the kiss but kept his eyes closed, enjoying the feel as Brian nuzzled his face into Justin's hair.

"Well, I hope everyone wasn't too bored," David declared.

"No, are you kidding?" Ted asked, who'd clearly been bored out of his mind, "I haven't been that entertained since Gandhi."

Justin snickered softly, earning a nip on the ear from Brian.

"*Oh*," Deb enthused, obviously pleased for her son, "just looked like the trip of a lifetime!"

Michael started going on again about how fantastic it was in Paris, and Justin immediately tuned him out. Ever since they'd arrived at David's it felt Michael had been acting as if he was suddenly an expert on the finer things in life, as if one trip to France had taught him everything. Frankly, it was kind of annoying, and Justin would much rather pay attention to the husky voice whispering things in his ear.

Sadly, they couldn't stay there forever. David had set up a table with different wines and cheeses, and while everyone else got up to stretch their legs or get something to eat, Deb told them off again - although quieter, this time.

"Hey, come on you two," she said, leaning down, "try being a little more social. And no fucking on David's sofa."

Brian shrugged. "He can afford to get the come stains cleaned out."

She whapped him on the head again - gently. "Not funny, asshole. Come on, get up."

Sighing, both of them slowly started to shift away from each other. Brian made it off of the sofa first, and Justin kind of gave up, still relaxed from earlier, slumping down and laying across the sofa.

The guys around the table started having some discussion about Catherine Deneuve, and Mel and Linds - who were still sitting next to each other, near the sofa - seemed to be locked in a private debate. Justin was a little surprised they'd both turned up given that things were obviously still awkward, but then he supposed they couldn't keep hiding forever. There came a time when you just had to stop running away.

But it was Brian, of course, who caught most of his attention. Standing in front of the sofa, walking back and forth, stretching his legs - staying out of any discussions.

It was only when he began to speak that Justin understood why.

"I want to say something," Brian announced, and suddenly Justin wasn't relaxed anymore, quickly swinging his legs off the sofa until he was sitting up properly.

They'd touched on the subject of Ted's non-reaction to Brian's news in the previous few days - if Ted *had* had any reaction other than surprise, he hadn't made it known to them, which Justin was actually grateful for - but Brian hadn't discussed yet how he was planning on telling the others.

Apparently, this was it. Brian had everyone's attention now, and Justin wasn't sure if he should go and stand next to him. He wanted to show support, but Brian had to do a certain amount of this on his own, too. Deciding to wait until Brian gave any clear sign that he wanted Justin with him, he bit his lower lip and waited.

It didn't take long, and came out in typical Brian style.

"Some of you know, some of you don't, but I'm an alcoholic." A pin literally could've dropped and they would've heard it. Even on carpet. It was *that* quiet. "That's why I haven't been around some of my old haunts for the past few months - I'm not drinking at all anymore. I have an addiction and I'm dealing with it. That said," he fixed each of them with a steely glare, "this does *not* mean any of you can suddenly go soft on me. You can still drink in front of me, and you're not treating me any differently from the way you always have. Nothing else has changed; I'm still me. Just sober."

Ending the speech, he glanced down at Justin - who gave him an encouraging smile. Pride bubbled up inside his chest.

Deb, of course, wasted no time at all, practically flying around the sofa. "You little asshole!" she all but wailed, pulling him into a hug.

"Jesus Christ," Brian looked uncomfortable but didn't immediately shove her away - probably only because that wasn't unusual behaviour. She wasn't treating him any differently. That was pretty much how she reacted to everything.

Linds looked stunned, standing and carrying Gus as she walked towards him. "Is it true, Brian?"

"Why the fuck would I say all that if it wasn't?"

Very good point. Linds' question had been a little dumb, but Justin understood her surprise.

"I just...you never..." she faltered. "You didn't *act* like an alcoholic."

"And just how *is* an alcoholic supposed to act?" Brian queried, but Linds just flushed and looked away.

Finally ending the hug, Deb leaned up to plant a kiss on Brian's face. "You're such a fucking drama queen," she told him, "but I couldn't be prouder of you if you were my own son." If it'd been biologically possible, Justin strongly suspected Brian would've blushed. Instead, he just mumbled at her to fuck off.

"And *you*!" she yelled, suddenly turning away and diving towards Justin. "You knew about it all along, didn't you?" And then he was being pulled up from the sofa and into a hug. "I knew it," she muttered, "I fucking knew something was going on, but Vic's tighter than a virgin's ass."

"Ma!"

Finally, Michael was about to step into the fray.

Justin watched as Linds stepped forward, giving Brian a hug and letting him play with Gus for a moment. The two of them had a quiet conversation, and when it was over she kissed him and moved away with Gus.

And that was when Michael made his move, stepping around the sofa and stopping in front of Brian.

Justin knew this was the reaction Brian had been most worried about, even though he never said a word. It just made the most sense. They'd been best friends since they were fourteen, sharing everything - at least as far as Justin knew. Michael had been there for Brian when his own family hadn't, but now Brian had locked him out of this part of his life.

It was a lot to face up to.

Rather than talk right there in front of everyone, Brian gestured towards the hallway, and the two of them left the room. Those of them left in the living room started murmuring amongst themselves, obviously all dying to know what was being said. When Deb left him, ruffling his hair (he was getting really sick of that), Emmett plopped down next to him on the sofa.

"Try the brie," he said, holding out a small plate with cheese on it, "I swear to God, it tastes just like come."

Anxiety still at an all time high, Justin nonetheless tasted some - and discovered Emmett was absolutely right. He'd had brie before, and it'd never tasted anything like that.

"Thanks," he muttered, fixing his gaze back on the doorway to the hallway. The voices they could hear seemed to be getting louder, although it was still impossible to make out more than a few words. God, he wanted this to go well. He really, really wanted this to-

"So instead of just telling me, you avoided me? Jesus Christ, Brian! You ignored me for months whenever I called or stopped by, but then I'd see you at the diner and you'd act like nothing had changed! How could you do that? Why the fuck couldn't you just tell me?"

"Because you were there! You were fucking *there*, Mikey! For years you saw better than anyone just how fucked up I was, and not once did you try to stop me. You fucking *encouraged* me. It's not your fault I'm an alcoholic, but you didn't fucking help!"

Fuck.

"Fuck you, Brian. Fuck *you*!"

Running in from the hallway, Michael didn't look at anyone as he stomped upstairs.

Justin didn't even think about it - he just moved, following him up the stairs. He thought he heard David call his name, but no one followed him so he simply assumed someone had convinced him not to come up.

Finding Michael in the bathroom, rubbing at his eyes with the back of a hand, Justin pushed the door open further.

Michael whirled towards him. "Leave me alone."

No chance. "Look, he fucked up. He *knows* he fucked up by not telling you, and that's why he's overreacting and being an asshole - you know how he operates, Michael. But do you have any idea what he's been going through? What it's like going through withdrawal? Giving up drinking? The shit going on with his dad-"

"But *you* know, don't you?" Michael asked rhetorically, anger flashing over his face. "You know everything! Little Justin Taylor, the twink who wouldn't go away. I saw you two on the sofa, earlier - it's not just fucking anymore, is it?" Rhetorical again. "Well, congratulations. You finally got everything you ever wanted!"

Holy shit. He couldn't have missed the point more if he'd been trying. "This isn't about me, or what I do or do not have! It's not even about you! It's about *him* - Brian. Your oldest friend. Your best friend since you were fourteen. Yeah, he's been an idiot, but he's also scared out of his fucking mind! What's more important? Your jealousy, or the fact that he's fighting this thing that could end up fucking killing him?"

Rearing his head back as if he'd been slapped, Michael apparently had no answer to that one.

Good.

Grabbing the door handle, Justin stepped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

*

To say that it hadn't gone well would've been an understatement of massive proportions.

Brian had been spectacularly quiet when Justin come back downstairs, saying nothing as he waited for him in the hallway. They didn't announce it, but it was clear to everyone that they'd be leaving immediately. Mel, Ted and Emmett went with them, although Justin didn't see it as any of them choosing a side - they just didn't want to stick around in the house after that.

Because she had Gus, David had insisted on driving Linds home personally, and Deb had told Justin just before they left that she was sticking around to chew Michael a new asshole - her own words.

As soon as they got outside, Mel launched right into it.

"Jesus Christ, Brian," she sounded almost in awe as they reached the cars. "You love putting on a good floor show, don't you?"

Seeming to appreciate it, Brian lit up the cigarette currently sticking out from between his lips. "What fun is there in *not* being the centre of attention?" His studied nonchalance was clearly an act.

And then she did that *nice* thing again, her smirk fading as she looked at him seriously. "Look, he'll get over it. He's just in shock."

"Maybe," Brian shrugged, blowing out a puff of smoke and looking off to one side. "Maybe not. Not all friendships are meant to last."

Justin just wanted to hug him.

"You're just trying to make it easy for yourself," she argued. "Yeah, you're a manipulative fucker who'd lead him around by the dick sometimes, and he should've called you on your bullshit. But that wasn't all your friendship was about. You guys grew up together, came out together, even - and I can't believe I'm fucking saying this - became *men* together."

Snorting, Brian scratched at his left ear. "The Brian and Mikey show."

She nodded. "So just...don't write him off completely. Not yet. Give him a chance to get the fuck over himself."

Pausing, Brian finally looked towards her as if considering something. "Is this something you learned in lesbian school? 'Cause if you think we're gonna have a 'moment' and share a hug, you can-"

"Kiss my ass," she finished, smirking. "You can act like an asshole all you want, Kinney - but just remember you called me on my bullshit, and I'm calling you on yours. I'm just trying to help. And before you tell me you don't need anyone's help, what's he doing here?" she asked, nodding smugly towards Justin.

Another plume of smoke escaped as he met Justin's gaze. "He's...different." He turned back to Mel. "And as much as I appreciate an offer of help from a dyke of such high, moral standards, this conversation is getting boring." It wasn't. It wasn't boring at all, but Brian obviously wanted to get off of the subject. "What the fuck were you and Linds talking about in there?"

Tilting her head down, Mel lost the strength in her voice. "She's really doing it. They're going through with it next week."

Em and Ted - who until then had been keeping decidedly quiet - stepped closer.

"It's not like they're really getting married," Ted pointed out, as if it was information they didn't already know.

Em nodded. "It's just so he can stay in the country."

"What if he never leaves?" Mel turned towards them. "What if he becomes a permanent fixture?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "What if my aunt had balls? She'd be my uncle."

"It's too late. It's all my fault. There's not a Goddamn thing I can do about it."

Sighing, Brian turned away and unlocked the doors to the Jeep. "This Melanie the Martyr stuff is boring as shit. Stop wasting your time thinking about how you screwed up, and start thinking how the fuck you can fix it."

Moving to the other side of the Jeep, Justin climbed in and shut the door behind him.

Mel didn't sound impressed. "That's very deep, Brian. Thank you."

"Oh, fuck you," he retorted, settling into the Jeep himself and rolling the window down. "Look, you still love her, right?"

"Of course I do."

"Then fucking make sure she knows that." Starting the engine, he released the handbrake. "For a couple of dykes, you two really know fuck-all about communicating." Pressing on the gas, he drove the Jeep out of the driveway and onto the street.

Justin considered telling Brian he should listen to his own advice, but decided to keep it to himself. At least for tonight.

Back at the loft, Brian seemed surprisingly...*okay* about what'd happened with Michael. Predictably, he didn't mention it at all, but he also didn't drag Justin onto the floor to fuck it better, and didn't get so high that he'd have no memory of the whole thing by tomorrow morning. In fact, the rest of the evening was curiously calm.

Putting a Brando DVD in, Brian ordered Chinese and the two of them sat in front of the TV, eating out of the boxes. They read their fortunes and Brian gave him his cookie to eat, and just for one moment, Justin hoped that Michael and Brian would blow up at each other more often.

When they finally went to bed they fucked of course, but it wasn't hard and fast like Brian was trying to fuck a memory out of his brain. It was just a good - extremely enjoyable - fuck, and that was when Justin really knew something was wrong.

"Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I'll always call you on your bullshit, right?" It was reassurance and a reminder. Brian may not have been fucking his brains out or drinking to forget, but he wasn't dealing with it, either. In some ways that might've been worse.

"Fuck him," Brian muttered eventually. "Just fuck him."

Resting his head on Brian's chest, Justin closed his eyes.

*

The next time he was at school, Daph started ranting about the club again. She'd been doing it every day since they'd been shut down, and it was fucking getting on Justin's nerves. She was right, of course - she was absolutely right that they should've been allowed to meet, but at the moment he had bigger things to worry about. Brian required a lot of brooding.

"Welcome to the real world, Daph," he said as they walked through the doors into school. "Nobody gives a shit about a Gay-Straight Alliance."

"That's not true!" she argued, and he wondered when she'd become more of an activist than he was. "Look how many people came!"

"Yeah, like eight people in total," he rolled his eyes as they turned a corner. "I counted them. And they only came because we give them condoms." Knowing they were approaching his locker he glanced towards it - and almost froze. Sprayed across it in red paint were the words FAGS DIE!, and though it was closed it'd obviously been set on fire, smoke creeping out from around the edges.

Fuck!

He ran towards it, desperate to get it open. He had books in there, personal things, *sketches*. But as soon as he tried to touch the metal, pain flashed through his hand and he yanked it back. Cradling his hand, he stumbled about restlessly in disbelief, hearing taunting voices from further down the hallway telling him he deserved it, that he was a fucking faggot.

Running up to him, Daphne tried to look at his hand. "Oh my God, Justin, are you okay? What a bunch of assholes!"

He barely heard her, the shock giving way to an anger that lodged firmly in the pit of his stomach.

Nobody gave a shit about a Gay-Straight Alliance?

They fucking did now.

*

This time, Deb's fury could've flattened entire cities - but then Justin was still feeling much the same. As soon as Deb heard she immediately called his mom, and in under twenty minutes she was at the house. Justin had to give her credit for that - it was the only thing he could feel generous about at the moment.

"Everything was destroyed. My drawings, my books," he ranted, pacing back and forth, knowing Deb and Vic had already heard this more than once. He just...he just couldn't *believe* it.

"You know who did it?" Mom asked.

"I can guess," he stopped walking, facing her. "Chris Hobbs." Fucker. Chris had barely bothered him at all since the club got shut down, and now this? He had no idea what'd set him off - other than the fact he was a fucking homophobe.

Vic spoke up from his place on the sofa. "I say we go beat the shit out of him."

"Hey," Deb gave him a stern look. "Try being constructive." For all of Deb's rage, she'd never believed in violence.

"I thought I was," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Mom turned back towards him. "Did you tell the principal?"

"He doesn't care. It's all because of that group." It'd been his idea, his plan - with a little help - and not only had they taken away, now they were just being vicious. "We just wanted a place where we could talk. We couldn't even have that." God, he wanted to *do* something. He felt useless just standing there, not accomplishing anything, and whenever they planned anything it always seemed to take too long to get going.

His internal diatribe was interrupted mid-flow by a knock at the door. Deb was on the sofa next to Vic, so Justin sighed and headed over to answer it. "I'll get it."

He could tell from the outline through the door window that it was Brian, but he had no idea why he'd be there now. Normal office hours hadn't ended yet, and he usually worked overtime anyway. Swinging the door open, he frowned. "What are you doing here?" In retrospect, he realised he could've sounded a little happier to see him.

Brian didn't seem to care.

"Deb called," he said, brushing by him and stepping into the house. "I heard what happened. You okay?"

Finding something to be pleased about at last, Justin shut the door and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine, just...incredibly pissed off."

"I get that," Brian nodded intently. "They get anything important?"

In the grand scheme of things probably not, but... "Some of my sketches." There'd even been one he'd been working on for Brian's 30th - he hadn't wanted to leave it at the loft or at Deb's, just in case Brian saw it. Now it was gone forever. They all were.

"Fuckers," he muttered, reaching out his right hand and cupping it around the back of Justin's neck. "I could arrange to have them killed, you know."

Justin was sure there were plenty of fags who would act out Brian's every whim. "I'm sure you could."

Brian nodded, almost grinning. "In fact, it's probably my duty as your..." There he went again. He kept screwing himself over like that these days, and Justin just waited, smirking in amusement as Brian fumbled for the phrase that was going to end that sentence. "...otherwise undefined sexual partner."

Shaking his head, Justin actually grinned as he held onto Brian's forearms. "You keep digging yourself into holes that you just can't dig your way out of lately."

Closing his eyes, Brian sighed dramatically. "Thank you for not noticing. Really."

"If you boys are quite finished," Deb interrupted, making both of them turn to see her standing in the living room, "there are three other people sitting right here."

"Sorry, Deb," Justin walked towards them, losing Brian's grip on his neck but tugging him along with him.

"Deb, Vic," Brian greeted as they moved further into the living room. "Mrs. Taylor."

"Hello, Brian."

Mom had a certain way of saying hello to Brian that added more subtext. Instead of just saying hello, she was *actually* saying, hi, and stay away from my son, you freaky child molester.

"So," she continued, "what happens now?"

"Actually," Justin addressed her, "that kind of depends on you." He absolutely knew what he wanted to do. It'd been his first instinct after finding his locker on fire, and he was sticking with it.

"How's that, Sunshine?" Debbie asked.

He looked at each of them in turn. "I want to start the club again. Through proper channels this time. If we can get it officially allowed, there's no way they can shut us down this time. Mom," he turned to her, "you said you'd talk to the principal again. I want both of us to talk to Mr. Perkins, convince him to let us run the club officially."

She looked a little shocked. "Sweetheart...I...it's not that I don't support you, but given what happened today maybe it's best that you don't draw attention to yourself."

Sometimes she just didn't get it. "You want me to hide?

"I want you to be safe!"

Brian butted in. "So you just want him to run away? Let them intimidate him his whole life? Fuck that."

"Mom," Justin tried again as she glared at Brian, "this isn't about me, or even what happened at school. This is about speaking out, demanding to be heard - whether people want to hear you or not."

His words, finally, seemed to be sinking in. "Where did you learn all that?"

Justin had the perfect response: "That's what you and dad taught me."

She seemed surprised - and maybe pleased. "We did?"

Deb shifted. "Well, he sure as hell didn't learn it at the St James Academy." Chuckling, she hoisted herself up from the sofa. "All this drama is making me thirsty. Who wants a drink?"

Brian spoke. "I wouldn't mind one, Deb."

"Sure hon," she said, working her way into the kitchen. "You want a beer?" She froze a millisecond after she said it, her hand coming up to her mouth. "Fuck."

He seemed to brush it off easily. "Coffee's fine." And, really, little mistakes like that were probably going to happen for a while, so making a big deal out of them seemed pointless.

Unfortunately, Deb's reaction to messing up hadn't passed Mom by - she frowned at Deb, then Brian, then him.

Noticing her curiosity, Brian shared a look with Justin - who barely shook his head. He hadn't told his mom a thing. Frankly, he hadn't been looking forward to the idea. It'd undoubtedly turn into yet another diatribe about why Brian was a bad influence.

"Mrs. Taylor," Brian said, drawing her attention back to him, "there's something you should know." She waited expectantly, and Brian didn't drag it out. "I'm an alcoholic. Recovering. I had a problem and I'm dealing with it."

Eyes widening to alarming levels for a few seconds, Mom quickly schooled her features into nothing but polite acceptance. "Thank you for telling me, Brian. And congratulations on your accomplishment. Craig's mother was an alcoholic - I've seen first-hand how destructive it can be."

Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably. Not looking at him, Justin caught Brian's left hand with his right, threading their fingers together.

"Deb," Mom called out. "I wouldn't mind a beer."

*

When Justin went outside to take a breather, Vic followed him.

Brian and his Mom had spent the last thirty minutes being excruciatingly polite to each other, and Justin felt a headache starting.

"How you doing, kid?" Vic asked, pulling the jacket he'd brought with him over his robe. It was cold out.

"I'm not exactly sure." He really wasn't. "Mom actually called my school and arranged an appointment with Mr. Perkins instead of just saying she would, and she and Brian are being unfailingly polite to each other. Brian, well, he's just doing it because he finds it amusing."

"And your mom?"

Exhaling, he rubbed at his arms. "Not sure. I think it might be because she knows Brian's an alcoholic now and wants to be 'nice' to him, like he's a charity case or something. Which of course spurs him on even more."

"They're almost made for each other," Vic chuckled, which at least made Justin smile. "Still, that's a pretty big thing," Vic continued, "telling her. I mean, telling everyone the other night was big news, but your mom?"

"Vic..." Justin warned. "Don't go there."

"Me?" Vic asked innocently. "I'm not going *anywhere*."

"Right." Of course, as much as he warned Vic off the subject, he was just as guilty of thinking about why Brian would want to share something like that with Justin's *mom* of all people.

They lingered in silence together for a while, before Vic spoke again. "How's he doing lately? Telling everyone must've been stressful."

"He's okay," Justin shrugged. "I mean he's Brian, so he's hurting more about Michael than he's letting on, but he's okay."

"Mikey'll come around."

"I know," he nodded. "I'm just not sure Brian does."

"He's scared," Vic explained. "Sharing something like that...it's not all that different from coming out. There's always the fear they'll reject you. That they won't be able to accept this new version of you. God knows, when I had to tell my friends I was sick, suddenly I didn't hear from some of them anymore. It wasn't that they thought I'd make them sick too, or didn't approve - most of them were gay anyway - they just..." he shrugged "...didn't know what to say."

That was really sad.

"You know what I've learned, Vic?" It was actually something Brian had taught him.

"What's that, kiddo?"

"Sometimes it's best saying nothing at all."

The drive to Brian's was quiet but comfortable. Mom had only given him a vaguely disapproving look when she'd realised he wasn't staying at Deb's that night, which was a least an improvement. And even if it hadn't been, even if she'd told him outright that she didn't want him going to Brian's, he would've ignored her. After the day he'd had, he was sleeping at Brian's come hell, high water, or homophobes.

When they did get there, Brian told him a little (ranted) about his day. When he'd paid Linds a visit at lunch she'd been trying on her wedding dress, and Michael apparently had an expensive new gold car, complete with personalised number plates.

As far as Brian was concerned, two of his oldest friends were going insane. Justin couldn't really blame him.

"It's like I'm stuck in one of Mikey's bizarro alternate universes," Brian mused in bed, letting Justin take a drag from his cigarette, "where I get on better with Mel and your mom than Mikey and Linds."

It *was* pretty fucking weird, and Justin found himself laughing out a breath of smoke. "At least I haven't changed."

"Yeah," Brian grinned, tipping his head towards him, "you always were a stubborn twat."

*

Mom had managed - thanks to her oh-so-polite manners and her general passive-aggressiveness (for once, Justin was thankful for it) - to get an appointment with Mr. Perkins the next day.

It went about as well as Justin thought it would.

Mom and Mr. Perkins quietly argued back and forth, and then he really got a good strike in.

"Suppose I gave you permission to organise your club. And then another student wanted to start a club for, say, white supremacists. Should I allow that, too?"

If Justin had had any doubts at all that his school wasn't being run by a bunch of homophobic jerks, that would've sealed it.

Mom was rightfully horrified. "Excuse me, Mr. Perkins, but I happen to find that analogy extremely offensive."

"Some of our parents would be hard-pressed to see the distinction."

"Well, I'm hard-pressed to see the similarity!"

Realising he hadn't been doing himself any favours, Perkins held up his hands. "Not everyone is as accepting of your son's sexual preference as you are."

Christ, there was that word. Justin wasn't staying quiet. "It's not a *preference*."

"I was that way at first, too," Mom said, understanding. "Which is why it's important that they *learn*."

"Mrs. Taylor, there are more important lessons to be taught here!"

She shot him a cold look. "Than tolerance?"

He didn't say this much - it went against the rules of the Teenage Son Handbook - but sometimes, Mom really kicked ass. For once, he actually told her that as they walked out of school. "Seriously, Mom, you totally kicked his ass." He couldn't remember when he'd ever seen her be so passionate about anything. Something had definitely changed.

Embarrassed at the praise, she glanced down. "Still didn't get your club started."

"That's okay," he smiled, "it'll happen somehow. I just appreciate the fact that you tried."

They walked down the steps from school together on opposite sides of the hand railing, but halfway down she stopped and suddenly turned towards him. "I don't think I realised," she blurted out.

Justin frowned at her. "Realised what?"

"I always knew, objectively," she continued, "told myself how hard things could be for you sometimes. But it never really sank in. Seeing that man in there...the things he was saying...it just...well, it pissed me off!" She lost her cool for once, and Justin couldn't help but laugh. "And I never really see you anywhere away from Debbie or Liberty Avenue. You're almost...protected there. But away from that, you have to face a lot of institutionalised homophobia." She paused, regarding him wryly. "Your dad...he was a special case. He was so completely irrational and over the top that I couldn't help but notice how ridiculously homophobic he is. But it's not the people like your dad that you have to worry about - it's the people like Mr. Perkins."

Wow.

She kept going.

"And since I seem to be talking so much," she smiled, "Brian is..." Pausing, she looked away until she figured out whatever it was she wanted to say, and looked back. "I kept seeing you with this older man, an older man that I was convinced was taking advantage of you." Opening his mouth to object immediately, he stopped when her hand came up. "I know better, now. I've known better for a while, and even though I've known that, I kept telling myself that he has too many issues, that he's not what I'd want for you, gay or straight. And yes," she told him, "I'm enough of a woman to admit that I'm not as open-minded as I wish I could be. But all I've wanted - all I've *ever* wanted - is for you to be happy, sweetheart. And if you have that - with him, or without him - then I'll be happy too."

Maybe Brian's theory about bizarro alternate universes had been right.

For once completely at a loss for words, Justin leaned across the railing between them and hugged her.

Hugging him back tightly, she sniffed. "This doesn't mean I'm ready to ask him over to dinner."

Justin just laughed.

*

Bizarre things kept happening during his shift at the dinner. Vic was there for one of his occasional visits, as well as Brian, Emmett and Ted. The four of them - and Debbie - seemed fascinated by something in the local newspaper, but Justin was swamped and couldn't get a good look, and could barely get close enough to listen in most of the time.

They seemed to form a kind of scrum after a while, and then it broke apart, and one by one the guys left the diner.

Justin had just started clearing a table off when two strong arms wrapped around him. "Brian!"

He nuzzled against his neck. "Nice to see you too, Sunshine."

Shivering, Justin carefully put the plates back down - because if he didn't do it now, he'd drop them. "Sorry. Been so busy today." He tipped his head to one side, sighing.

"I noticed that. So," Brian pulled back, turning Justin around. "Does this mean you're tired?"

Justin squinted up at him. Was this a sex question? "Not really."

"Good," Brian nodded. "We have a party to attend."

A party? "Is that what you guys were talking about? What kind of party?"

"You'll see," he replied, kissing the end of his nose. "I have to go, but I'll pick you up when your shift finishes." Pulling away, he started walking towards the door.

"What kind of party?" Justin repeated. "What am I supposed to wear?"

Turning towards him, Brian kept moving - backward. "Don't worry. Emmett's picking out the *perfect* outfit for everyone."

Well, Justin was certainly intrigued.

Good to his word, Brian was there when Justin stepped out of the diner a few hours later. He only noticed someone *else* was there when he swung open the car door and nearly hit Deb with it.

"Woah, Sunshine, careful how you handle that thing."

"Shit! Sorry, Deb." He totally hadn't seen her come out after him at all.

She grinned. "Don't worry about it, hon. Well?" she urged. "Get in!"

He just stared at her. She obviously wanted him to get in the back so she could sit in the front...he looked at Brian, sitting comfortably in his seat.

He splayed his fingers across the steering wheel. "I offered her a ride."

"I need time to get changed too!" she nodded exuberantly.

Apparently, they weren't the only ones going to the party. Shrugging, Justin climbed into the back of the Jeep and met Brian's gaze in the rearview mirror. "You really like this whole man of mystery thing, don't you?"

Smirking, Brian made sure Deb was safely inside the Jeep and pulled away.

After a brief stop at Deb's - promising to pick her up again later - Brian drove straight to the loft. Justin was curious as hell, but knew Brian wouldn't give any details up until he felt like it. Or until Justin got him alone in the loft and felt him *up*.

Quite liking his plan, Justin started kissing Brian in the elevator, but - despite his cock's obvious interest - Brian smiled and held him at arm's length. "Not right now."

Really, *really* curious as to what would make Brian turn down sex, Justin followed him out of the elevator, stood back as he unlocked and slid open the door-

And saw Emmett standing in the middle of the loft, dressed exactly like Jackie Kennedy.

Oh, fuck. No wonder Brian had been so secretive.

"Am I gonna have to go as Liza?"

*

Justin, thankfully, didn't have to dress up like a gay icon anytime soon.

That said, he was a little disappointed that the outfit Em had put together for him to crash David's party with wasn't a little more exciting. It was pretty much what he'd wear at any time - cargo pants and a tight top - with the exception that the top was so short that it barely covered his pecs.

Well, what there was of his pecs.

Em insisted he looked divine, and as Justin studied himself in Brian's full-length mirror, he decided he should probably take the word of a former First Lady.

Brian, of course, had yet to emerge from the bathroom. Ever the drama queen, he wanted to create as much impact as possible by making sure no one saw him until his 'look' was ready.

Justin was seriously looking forward to it. In fact, he was looking forward to the whole evening. Though he understood Michael's point of view about Brian and definitely wanted the two friends to actually start being friends again, he was still kind of pissed at Michael for not being more understanding. Plus, apparently, he was acting like a pretentious twat at the moment, too (Brian's words). After everything Brian had been through lately, unconditional support from all of his friends would've been great - even if the idea wasn't very realistic. No one was perfect.

A knock on the loft door made him turn away from the mirror, but Emmett was closer and gracefully took the few steps to open it.

Justin was pretty sure he'd never be able to walk that well in heels.

It was Ted at the door, who seemed to be wearing...a trench coat. Dropping his gaze as Ted walked further into the loft, Justin frowned, even more, when it looked like Ted might've been wearing...leather pants? And leather boots?

*Ted*?

"Teddy!" Em exclaimed. "I see you have the pants on, but where's the rest?"

Knowing better than to argue with a cross-dressing Emmett, Ted rolled his eyes and started unbuttoning his coat - but Justin could swear he saw something resembling pride flash across Ted's face. He was even more shocked when the coat came off completely, and he saw the rest of the outfit.

A black leather jacket, open, showing a great deal of Ted's chest. Ted's chest that was actually in much better condition than Justin would've guessed. Beneath the jacket it looked like Ted was wearing only a torso harness and then a hat was produced from somewhere - Justin really didn't want to know where - placed firmly on Ted's head, and the look was complete.

Holy shit.

Emmett clapped his hands together. "Oh Teddy, you look *fabulous*! You'll be the belle of the ball. Well," he grinned wickedly, "the *bear* of the ball."

Grinning, Justin agreed. "He's right, Ted - you look great! Em picked a great outfit."

"Oh, honey," Em smiled, "this is the one outfit that wasn't my work. This is *all* Teddy. Proof indeed that he's more than just an accountant - not that there's anything wrong with that."

Once again, Ted looked embarrassed - but proud. "Well, I already had the clothes," he shrugged. "They might as well get some use. Otherwise, they're a wasted investment."

Justin decided he really didn't want to know why Ted had started buying BDSM stuff.

"Soooooo..." Twirling around slowly, Em did his best Jackie impression. "How do I look?"

Pretty soon all three of them were complimenting each other, and Justin realised just how much of an impact it'd make at Michael and David's party if only the three of them turned up. With *six* of them, Michael would probably pop a blood vessel.

Yeah, Justin was definitely looking forward to it.

The mutual fan clubbing continued until they heard the bathroom door open. They turned towards the noise, and then Brian stepped down from the bedroom.

It took Justin approximately 0.3 seconds to get hard.

"Oh!" Emmett exclaimed, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. "I was *so* right!"

Brian...was...he was...Brian...Brian looked fucking hot.

The top was made of a light, partially see-through material, and it was cut low on his chest. The print on the shirt was kind of like animal skin - snakeskin, Justin thought - coloured in beiges and light browns. And the pants...beige again, made out of leather or PVC or some other kind of shiny material, and for once Justin understood the phrase 'like a second skin' because he had no idea how Brian had been able to squeeze into those - although he was personally having all kinds of fun imagining getting Brian *out* of them.

Shoes and a belt with a matching beige buckle finished off the outfit, and all Justin could do was stare.

The funny thing was, if someone had described the outfit to him, had told him exactly what Brian was going to be wearing, Justin would've snorted. It didn't sound like Brian at all - in fact, it sounded pretty ridiculous.

But in actuality, Justin was about ten seconds away from begging Brian to fuck him right then and there.

Brian couldn't have missed his reaction - couldn't have missed anyone's reaction - and smirked as he sauntered towards them. "Hello, Boys. Ted," he continued, "still learning a lot from The Master, I see." Getting a muttered "fuck you," in response, Brian ignored him and paused in front of Justin, meeting - and holding - his gaze. "Sunshine."

Justin's capability of verbal speech right about then was somewhere around the 'guuuuuuuuuuuuuuh' stage. Which was completely ridiculous; after all, he'd seen Brian in just about every kind of situation ever by now, but there was just *something* about him tonight that turned his brain to mush even more than usual.

"I like this," Brian breathed, stepping closer, his warm, hard hands grasping onto the bare skin at Justin's sides. "This way I don't have to move anything out of the way to touch your hot little body."

Justin suddenly loved the clothes he was wearing.

This party idea - wait. What was it for? - was sounding worse and worse with each passing second. Justin was very much of the opinion that they should stay home and fuck. A lot. And Brian should leave those pants on. Like, all the time.

"Uh, excuse me, boys," Em interrupted, and Justin had never hated anymore more than he had just then, "not that I don't understand why you want to rip each other's clothes off, but if you do that we'll never get out of here. And, for once, tonight is more important than fucking. This was *your* idea, Brian."

Grumbling, Brian grazed Justin's lips with the barest of kisses - Justin leaned into it, trying to make it last - before stepping away. "Okay," he sighed. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Maybe he could suck Brian off in the Jeep...

*

He realised that was a bad idea almost right away; trying to get Brian back into those pants in the Jeep would probably take a massive surgical operation. Horny and frustrated, Justin pouted in the back of the Jeep and waited for Deb and Vic to get in.

They'd all gone into the house briefly to share their outfits in all their glory, and everyone had been 'impressed' to different degrees. Deb was wearing red. A *lot* of red. Including a pair of red, heart-shaped sunglasses. Vic looked like some kind of 70's pimp - a sharp suit with solid blues and purples; a matching blue hat tilted at a rakish angle.

He was suddenly looking forward to the party again.

The drive to David's didn't take long. Unsurprisingly, when someone who'd presumably been hired to work the event opened the door, he didn't want to let them in. Brian just flashed the check he'd brought along, and one by one they handed the guy their jackets. Brian took a moment to make sure everyone was ready - and looked their very best - and then they all walked into the party together.

Immediately gaining surprised looks and murmured comments, they ignored the stiff suits around them. Coming to a stop in the middle of the room, Brian stretched up his neck, looking for someone.

Emmett spoke first, in a high-pitched impression of a female voice. "I hope we're not too late, I hate to miss the crudités!"

"Jesus," Debbie muttered, staring at the people who were staring at them, "this place looks like a wake. Who died?"

Brian found who he was looking for as Michael pushed by people to get to them. "Hey, Novotny!"

"What are you doing here?" Michael demanded when he reached them, clearly horrified.

Debbie leaned towards him, smiling. "We wouldn't have missed your party for the world, sweetheart."

"Our invitations must have gotten lost in the mail," Ted shrugged deliberately.

"Damn the postal service," Em complained in that voice again. "I'm going to write my Senator."

"You don't have to," Justin nodded towards Senator Baxter. "She's here."

Things just got better - or worse, for Michael - from there. Michael ranted about them 'breaking in'; Brian handed over the check and suddenly no one wanted to kick them out. The group began to split up and fan out, spreading through the room.

The background music was pretty crappy, and Justin made it his goal to find the stereo. When he did he flicked through the different options - David had the very best, of course, so his stereo held more than one CD - and found something that didn't totally suck ass.

An arm wrapped around him from behind, a mouth pressing against his ear. "Wanna dance, little boy?"

"I'm not a little boy," Justin smirked, even as he let Brian tug him back into the middle of the room.

"Sure you are," he retorted, his arms resting over Justin's shoulders, forcing them closer together. "Impossible though it may seem, that top makes you look like an even younger twink than usual."

Closing his eyes, Justin pressed his forehead against Brian's. "That must make you a pervert then, old man."

Brian didn't stop swaying to the beat. Well, it was Brian, so he was kind of swaying to a beat that no one with any sense of rhythm recognised, but he didn't stop. "Are you *trying* not to get fucked tonight?"

Grinning, Justin kept his hands hanging loosely onto Brian's sides. "You look really fucking hot."

"Now that's more like it," he replied, and Justin could hear the smirk in his voice.

He could've stayed like that all night. Sometimes he opened his eyes and looked around - he saw Ted dumping half a breadstick into someone's glass of wine, Emmett hoisting up the back of a guy's suit jacket, Deb and Vic cornering the Senator - and he didn't know why any of them were doing any of it and, right then, he didn't care.

When a waiter actually braved coming up to them and asked if they wanted anything to drink, both of them smiled and told him to fuck off.

Eventually, it was Deb - once again - who broke them apart, not caring that they were plastered against each other.

"Sunshine," she grabbed his arm, pulling him free, then pushing him in front of Senator Baxter. "Tell Diane about the club you started." Turning to the Senator, she pointed at Justin. "This is one goddamn brave kid. Talk to each other." And then she was gone and Justin was left to fend for himself.

Not that he wasn't capable of fending for himself, but he was still surprised and kinda horny, and as he stared at Senator Baxter he was starting to feel severely underdressed.

But. He could do this. "Nice to meet you, Senator Baxter," he held out his hand. "I'm Justin Taylor."

She shook it, smiling. "Nice to meet you too, Justin. So, tell me about your club."

She seemed genuine and interested, so Justin released her hand and started talking. "Well, uh, I started this club at school so that gay kids and straight kids could understand each other better, and-" Stopping when he felt a hand - then an arm - slide slowly across his lower back, he wasn't at all he surprised when he turned to see that it was Brian who now had an arm around him.

Brian, who was smiling much too innocently at the Senator. Brian, who didn't trust any politician as far as he could throw them.

"Uh, Senator," Justin began, "this is-"

"Brian Kinney," Brian interrupted, holding out his free hand. "The boyfriend. It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator." He just oozed fake sincerity.

Justin was in no way freaking out and/or stupidly giddy just because Brian had called himself his boyfriend. Especially because he knew Brian was just saying it to try and elicit a reaction.

Not at all.

Not hesitating at all, Senator Baxter shook the extended hand. "You too, Mr. Kinney. And I had a feeling you might be - I saw the two of you dancing earlier." They ended the handshake. "You're very good. Or rather," she looked at Justin, almost smirking, "I should say *you* were very good."

Brian's smugness crumpled. Justin couldn't have stopped the laugh from escaping if he wanted to.

Senator Baxter simply looked happy with herself, obviously used to dealing with arrogant men on a daily basis.

The humour quickly faded, however, when Michael's loud voice turned everyone's attention towards him.

"For embarrassing the hell out of me?!"

He and Deb were in the middle of the room, obviously having been talking - and, just as obviously, he wasn't happy with her 'behaviour'. Asshole. Justin's remaining good opinion of him was seriously starting to wane.

Naturally, Deb didn't let it pass, even knowing that everyone in the room was staring at them, listening in. "I know that I'm a little hard to take sometimes. My jokes and my appearance...and my enthusiasm. Sometimes you're ashamed of me. That's okay," she shrugged. "I'm your mother, and that's part of the deal. But Michael," she sounded so upset. "I never thought the day would come when *I* would be ashamed of *you*."

Ending it on that note, she brushed by him, and walked calmly out of the room.

Everyone kept staring at Michael.

Justin had to go after her. "I'm sorry," he turned back towards Brian and Senator Baxter, "I have to-"

"Go, Sunshine," Brian urged, frowning in Michael's direction, "I'll fill the Senator in on everything she needs to know."

Nodding his thanks, Justin gave Brian a quick kiss, then ran out of the house to find Debbie.

Justin didn't know where the hell Deb thought she was going - she'd reached the sidewalk by the time he got outside, and she didn't have a coat on.

Of course, neither did he, and his barely-there shirt let him know pretty damn quickly how fucking cold it was.

Dashing out after her, he ran awkwardly, his forearms crossing over his stomach in an attempt to try and retain some heat. It probably wasn't helping, but it was worth trying. "Deb!" She didn't stop at all, trudging along the sidewalk with her shoulders slumped forward; he'd be willing to bet she hadn't even realised anyone was even there until he reached out and grabbed her arm. "Deb."

Stopping suddenly, she turned towards him - probably blinking behind her sunglasses, although it was hard to tell. Her outfit looked all the more ridiculous now - nobody wearing that pair of shades should ever look *sad*. "Sunshine?"

"Come back inside," he coaxed, trying to guide her back to the house. "I know you're upset at Michael at the moment, but-"

She planted her feet on the ground, and there was no way Justin was going to be able to move her if she wasn't co-operating. "I don't wanna see that little shithead right now."

The Novotny temper definitely ran in the family. "You don't have to," Justin assured her, trying not to shiver. "But let's just go back inside and get you a coat, and then I'm sure Brian or Ted will drive you-"

"Holy shit!" she interrupted, as if just realising something. "It's fucking freezing out here and you don't have a coat on! What the fuck is wrong with you, Sunshine? Have you seen what you're not wearing?"

Giving up, Justin let Deb hustle him back towards the house because it was what he'd been trying to achieve all along - and, well, it *was* fucking cold.

Just as they reached the door, Vic stepped out with an arm full of coats. "I figured you'd need these."

"Vic, you're a saviour." Justin's teeth chattered as he grabbed his, quickly stuffing his arms through the holes and pulling it closed. It didn't really help all that much; he just had to wait to warm up.

Pulling on and buttoning up her own coat, Deb looked back at Vic. "I need to get one of the boys to drive me home."

Just standing there, Vic studied her for a few moments before nodding slowly. "Okay, I'll get-"

"Never fear!" Emmett's voice interrupted, making them all look behind Vic. "The queers are here!" Waiting until Vic moved out of the way, Emmett stomped triumphantly out of the house, with Ted and Brian close behind, each of them carrying their coats. It was almost like he was leading a marching band - although what kind of marching band would be comprised of Em dressed as Jackie, with Ted and Brian, Justin couldn't imagine.

"Oh, boys," Deb shook her head, "I don't want you all to leave because of me, it's not-"

"You're doing us a favour," Brian interrupted, shrugging his jacket on. "Don't know about you boys, but I couldn't put up with that hypocritical bullshit for another five seconds." Everyone murmured their agreement. "Good, then let's get out of here." Slinging an arm around Justin's shoulders, Brian started heading for the Jeep.

Justin held his ground, making Brian pause and turn to frown at him. "What's up?"

Why did Brian have to look *so* fucking hot, tonight of all nights? Being nice sucked. "I can't go home with you tonight. I need to stay with Deb." Truly and absolutely *sucked*. It was definitely the right thing to do; after Mikey treating her like shit, there was no way he could spend the night at Brian's. He just really, really wanted...ooooh. "But you know," the idea made him smile, "I don't see why *you* can't spend the night at my place."

Brian lifted his eyebrows. "Your place?"

"Deb's place," he admitted. "Yeah, your place has more room, the interior design, the enormous bed-"

"You're not helping your case here, Sunshine."

"But Deb's place has me. And a bed," he finished with a smirk, knowing almost for certain that it was enough to tempt Brian. Quite honestly, while the loft *was* gorgeous and had lots of room and probably cost a small fortune, all Justin really needed was Brian and somewhere to sleep.

Pretending to think it over, Brian put his arm back around Justin's shoulder, and this time Justin let himself be guided. "Isn't there some rule about no tricks after midnight?" he asked, both of them watching as Ted and Emmett climbed into Ted's car.

"Yeah, but Deb's let you stay over before," they were almost at the Jeep, and Justin realised they should probably hurry and let Deb and Vic inside before anyone's balls dropped off. "Besides," he glanced up at Brian, smirking, "you're not a trick. From what I heard earlier, you're my boooooyfriend."

Brian threatened to strangle him with the arm around Justin's shoulder, but didn't deny it.

The whole group ended up going back to Deb's for a while, all of them wanting to make her feel better without actually saying it. She served coffee, hot chocolate and cake, which they were all forced to eat - and only Brian grumbled about. After a couple of hours Ted and Emmett departed, and Vic started feeling tired and made his way upstairs.

"Well, go on," Deb urged, slicing herself another piece of cake, "I know you two wanna go fuck."

Well...yeah. But that wasn't the point. "Deb, you're more important than-"

"Of course I am!" she snorted. "I knew that before Mikey was an asshole and after Mikey was an asshole - but it was nice of you boys thinking you needed to remind me, and I appreciate the hell out of the fact that you were all here with me tonight. But, really - just go fuck, okay? Give Vic something to listen to. Sometimes even I need to be alone."

Not needing any more convincing, Justin hopped up from his chair, kissed Deb on the cheek, and made a break for his bedroom. Brian was right behind him, chasing him up the stars and Justin laughed, practically squealing and *fuck* he'd been waiting for this *all night*. He told Brian that when they barrelled into his bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

In response Brian practically picked him up and threw him down onto the bed, falling on top of him. Justin realised he wasn't the only one who'd been waiting all night as their mouths clashed together, hard, brutal; hands grabbing and grasping and bruising. Barely breaking the kiss, Brian rolled off slightly, using one hand to unbutton and pull down the zip on Justin's cargo's.

Feeling Brian's hand on his hard dick, Justin arched, breaking the kiss, and thrust into the warm hand repeatedly. "I love these," Justin whispered, hands falling to Brian's ass, rubbing over the material of his pants. "They're so hot. So tight. How the fuck...k..." Fuck, Brian had teased the end of his cock on that stroke. He licked his lips. "How did you get them on?"

Smirking down at him, Brian pulled his hand away from Justin's cock. "I've had some experience with tight clothes."

Some experience? That could be useful. "You ever fuck in them?" Brian kept silent, so Justin kept talking. "I want you to fuck me with them on. I want you to zip them open far enough to take your cock out, then fuck me fully dressed." Fuck, he was nearly getting off just talking about it. "Feel them against me whenever you press in, feel the zipper rubbing against my skin..."

Growling, Brian manhandled Justin, flipping him onto his front. Within a matter of seconds Justin's cargo pants were completely gone, he was being pulled up onto his hands and knees, and Brian had his tongue up his ass. "Fuck! Me!"

"That's the plan," Brian breathed behind him, lowering his head back down.

His whole body quivering as Brian's tongue delved into and around his ass, Justin's arms gave out and he folded them beneath him, his head resting on his forearms. Feeling like a whore - and loving it - Justin pressed back eagerly against Brian's tongue, gasping and panting and chanting something that may have been "fuck me fuck me fuck me".

Justin's small bedside table had everything they needed, so Brian paused his important and diligent work, hastily pulled open the drawer, and took out the condom and lube.

When he unzipped his pants, Justin actually groaned at the sound. He was sure anyone who heard it would've groaned at the sound. Fucking astronauts in fucking space would've spontaneously ejaculated if they had any clue who Brian Kinney fucking was.

"Fuck me," Justin whispered when a lubed finger carefully slid inside; "Fuck me," he repeated when it was joined by another finger, then two. "*Fuck* me," he demanded when he felt Brian's hard, sheathed cock pressing against his ass and finally, *finally* Brian did.

Groaning as Brian pushed inside, Justin spread his thighs apart, letting his body adjust. When he was ready he pushed back, and Brian got the message. Sliding out slowly, he thrust back in, hard. Gasping, Justin pushed his body up, one hand moving back to rest on Brian's thigh, encouraging, and the fact that he could only feel the smooth material and not Brian's skin at all made it so much fucking hotter.

Eyes rolling back in his head, he moaned, trying to process everything at once - Brian's pants sliding against him, the zipper catching his skin, Brian's thin shirt rubbing against his lower back, and Brian's own body heat permeating it all. Kissing - then biting - the back of Justin's neck, Brian's right hand started to travel across the exposed skin on Justin's body. Almost absently petting his back at first, before running along his right side, splaying across his stomach, and then finally the hand wrapped around Justin's cock.

Jerking him off, Brian thrust against his prostate once, twice, and that was it. Justin was amazed he'd lasted as long as he had; coming in powerful spurts, groaning as he collapsed onto the bed and felt Brian stiffen, fill the condom inside him, then collapse on top of him.

Fucking hell.

He was lying in his own come, the zipper had rubbed his ass raw, and he couldn't move to save his life - but it was so fucking worth it.

"That," Justin began, turning his head to one side so he could actually, you know, *breathe*, "was...fucking hot."

Running a hand through Justin's hair, Brian pressed a kiss against his neck.

An agreement.

*

Justin really needed to pee, and he blamed Brian for squishing his bladder. At another time he would've enjoyed the fact that Brian was sleeping on top of him, but not when he *seriously* needed to pee.

Dislodging him pretty easily - when Brian *did* sleep, only his alarm could wake him - Justin was so desperate that he risked it and dashed naked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Deb always kept the house ridiculously warm, so it was rarely cold inside. Closing the door behind him, he turned around and aimed for the toilet. Almost groaning in relief, Justin closed his eyes and let his shoulders slump in relief.

After washing up afterward, he crept through the hallway intent on going back to Brian, when he noticed light coming up the stairs. Someone must've been up. Vic wandered about at night sometimes, so Justin found his cargo pants on the floor of the bedroom, pulled them on, and quietly walked downstairs.

It was Deb. Still at the table.

Frowning, Justin moved towards her. "Hey."

Glancing up from what she was working on - a large piece of white cardboard, with the letters 'HOMO' written on it in blue paint - Deb gave him a double-take. "Walking about with no shirt on, Sunshine? This isn't Brian's place, you know." She winked, letting him know she was kidding.

Smiling, he sat down - squirming only a little - and watched as she painted a 'P'. It was kind of amusing that she had all this stuff ready to use in her house somewhere, but then Deb never threw anything away. "Whatcha working on?"

"We," she said, finishing the side arch of the P, "are going to protest at your school." Putting the paintbrush carefully down on a plate she'd obviously been using for a while, she picked up a couple more signs by her feet - one in red paint declaring 'BEING GAY IS O-KAY!' and another in green that read 'SAY NO TO ST JAMES!' "Get your club started," she shrugged, putting them back down. "Maybe get Diane involved. I'm sure that'll help."

Justin had never actually protested before, with the signs and the chanting - his kind of protesting usually consisting of being stubborn - but he had to admit that the idea of publicly showing St James that he wasn't going to stand for their bullshit felt...*good*. And Deb - despite claiming she was okay earlier - clearly needed something to focus on, something to *do*.

Why not?

"You know, Deb, I'm an artist."

Smiling, she leant across the table and touched the side of his face with a paint-stained hand. "I know that, Sunshine."

She seemed to be missing the obvious. "Well, I paint a mean alphabet."

Understanding lighting her face, she pulled her hand away to pick up the paintbrush from the plate. "Here you go, Picasso," she held it out to him, pushing the sign across the table. "Show me what an 'H' should really look like."

*

When Justin returned to his bedroom a couple of hours later, Brian was laying on his back, staring at him. He looked beautiful, cast only in the moonlight sneaking around the curtains.

"You were gone for a while."

It wasn't an accusation, exactly, although Brian didn't sound happy.

Grinning about the fact that Brian had missed him, Justin took off his pants and placed them on the pile of Brian's neatly folded clothes resting on the computer chair. "I was helping Deb," he explained, approaching the bed, slipping under the covers as Brian held them up. Cuddling up to him, Justin felt the covers settle back down and revelled in the warmth. "We're going to protest at school tomorrow."

Brian's hand rubbed up and down Justin's back. "Protest?"

"Sure. You know - signs, chanting, generally pissing people off. She's even gonna call the Senator in the morning, see if she can stop by." Shifting a little, Justin rested his head on Brian's chest; wrapped an arm around his torso. "Never protested before. Should be interesting."

"The point of protesting is to be loud and annoying," Brian told him. "Somehow I think you and Deb have that covered."

"Hey!" He slapped Brian lightly on the chest.

Chuckling, Brian let him. "Ah, my little activist..."

Justin appreciated the possessiveness in that statement but couldn't quite let it pass. "I don't belong to anyone. And I'm not little."

"Well, one of those statements is true." Forestalling any further objections, Brian kissed the top of his head. "Now, get some sleep. It's only a few hours until you have to be up for school and make the world safe for fags everywhere."

Well, there were worse things to do than squash up with Brian in a small bed.

By the morning, Justin's ass was seriously feeling the after-effects of the close encounter with a zipper. Finding a bottle of moisturising cream in the bathroom, Brian slowly and carefully rubbed the cream into Justin's ass. One finger 'accidentally' slipped inside, then two, and then Brian was fucking him over the side of the bed.

There was actually room to shower together, but only because Deb had a shower curtain on her bath instead of a door. They huddled together, trying to share the shower head at one end of the bath, and it was definitely a tight squeeze but that was something they were used to.

After that they got dressed - Justin in his school uniform, Brian squeezing back into those pants - and headed downstairs for breakfast. While they ate Deb rattled on about all the friends she'd called who were able to get to the school that morning, insisting they'd have quite an impressive crowd despite how last minute it was.

Inspired, Justin abandoned his toast and called Daphne, hoping she hadn't left already for school. Fortunately, it was Daphne herself who picked up, and Justin immediately launched into a description of their idea, asking if she'd be interested.

"Are you *shitting* me?!" she squealed, excited, before pausing and speaking to someone in the background. "Uh...sorry, Dad." It was a few more seconds until she spoke again; she must've been alone again by then. "Justin, that'd be *so* cool! We'll get to show the school exactly what we think of them!"

Justin suspected they had a future Debbie on their hands. "Great! There'll be a whole bunch of us, so we'll meet you outside school in a little while, okay?"

"Okay! Can't wait."

When breakfast finished Brian made a quick run to his place to get ready for work, before coming back to pick them up. He'd offered them a ride to school - especially considering the signs they had to bring with them - and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Justin missed the pants, but Brian was in a suit instead - it wasn't *all* bad.

Sitting on the back seat with the signs jammed in next to him, Justin squeezed to one side and hoped they wouldn't crash because he'd probably end up getting impaled on one of them.

Outside school, Justin waited for Deb to get out before climbing out himself. Getting out of the car too, Brian helped him with the signs and they carried them over to the small crowd that was already there. Deb greeted some of them with enthusiastic hugs, and Justin watched with amusement as they began discussing 'strategy' immediately.

Moving a few feet away, Brian pulled his cell phone out and hit a speed dial number. Frowning, Justin watched, wondering who the hell he was calling.

When Brian started talking, he stopped wondering.

"If you give a shit about your mom at all, you'll get your ass over to the St James Acadamy, ASAP." Immediately ending the call, he jammed the phone back in his pocket.

Justin's insides shifted, and when Brian walked back towards him he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I love you."

"Uh," Brian said, obviously caught off guard. "I have to go," he continued, stepping closer and gesturing with his thumb to the Jeep. He looked kind of...awkward? Guilty, even.

"Sure, you have work," Justin smiled at him. "Besides, holding up signs isn't really your thing. You prefer to protest in...other ways." Leaning down, Brian kissed him then, right in front of Justin's school. Justin was smiling again when he pulled back. "Just like that." That was Brian - always trying to leave an impression.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Brian smirked. "Be as annoying as possible." With one last, quick kiss, he moved back to the Jeep, not looking back. "See ya, Deb."

Justin watched him go. And smiled.

Ten minutes later he wasn't smiling anymore. It was fucking *freezing*, and even with the scarf, gloves and extremely dorky hat Deb'd forced him to wear, he still wasn't keeping warm. Couldn't they have protested in the summer?

Of course, they still hadn't actually started protesting yet. Deb and the other adults were still discussing things - he suspected it was case of too many cooks - so Justin started walking up and down the steps in an attempt to keep warm.

The good news was that Daph had arrived, and she eagerly joined him. "It is soooo coooold. I swear to God, my nipples are about to fall off."

"Daph!" Talk about too much information. *Definitely* a new Debbie.

"What?" she asked, hopping up a step. "I have to hear all the sordid details about you having sex with Brian, and you can't stand a little conversation about my breasts? That's hardly fair."

"Uh, Daph? The difference is that you *like* hearing all the sordid details." Speaking of which... "By the way, you will *never* guess what we did last night."

Wrinkling her nose at him, she hopped up another step. "Does it involved whipped cream?"

Justin laughed, following her. "No, it was-"

"Okay, kids!" Deb yelled, and they teetered on the steps, turning towards her. "Let's get started!"

Finally.

Racing down the steps, they joined the rest of the group, not entirely sure what they were supposed to do. The adults started holding up the signs, and Deb was the first to start chanting.

"Hey hey, ho ho, homophobia's got to go!"

The rest of the adults joined in, and Justin and Daphne - shrugging at each other - joined in on the third chant.

They'd been getting weird looks from kids all morning, but now absolutely everyone was staring at them. Justin didn't care. It felt so good to be taking a stand, letting everyone know that he wasn't going to put up with being treated like shit just because he was gay. They effectively blocked the bottom of the stairs that led to school, and anyone who wanted to go in had to walk around them and make their way up the grass verge.

When Michael arrived, he wasn't in some fancy gold car or even in David's car - it was in a cab. Paying the driver, he stepped out and closed the door, standing in the road for a few seconds while the cab drove away.

"Deb," Justin said, touching her arm and drawing her attention towards Michael.

Her latest chant cut out halfway through when she saw him. Pausing, she slowly handed her sign to Justin and walked towards her son.

They met on the sidewalk. Michael looked like he'd kicked someone's puppy, and although Justin couldn't hear what they were saying - the chanting had continued in Deb's absence - he could see that they were definitely talking to each other. Not long after that, Deb suddenly pulled Michael into a tight hug. Michael held on just as tight, his hands sliding through the fake purple fur of her coat.

Pulling away just as abruptly, Deb walked back to Justin, took the sign from him, and handed it to Michael. "Here, you little asshole. Do something nice."

Flushing but smiling, Michael held the sign up and started chanting with the rest of them.

It was something.

They'd been protesting for a few more minutes - a couple of passing students had even joined in, which'd made Debbie beam - when Principal Perkins must've finally heard what was happening, and rushed down the steps from school.

"What's going on here?" he demanded, staring at them.

Justin faced him. "We're protesting St James's bigoted policy on school clubs."

Perkins wasn't impressed. "Taylor, I've had just about enough of this!"

"It's called Freedom of Assembly," Deb pointed out, just as a car pulled up. Justin watched, pleased when his suspicions were confirmed and Senator Baxter stepped out and started walking towards them.

Perkins hadn't seen her. "This is private property - you're all trespassing. I'm calling the police!"

Deb had, and smirked. "You might wanna stick around for this."

Realising she was looking behind him, he turned around and saw the Senator walking towards them. Shock replaced the anger, his eyes widening. "Senator..."

"Principal Perkins, I presume?" she asked, just as a television van pulled up behind her car.

For some reason, the principal suddenly wasn't so eager to throw them off school property.

After the camera crew set up - Justin was finding the whole thing unbelievably cool - Senator Baxter made a speech about Justin's club, private schools expecting public dollars, and freedom and civil liberties. He had no idea if she'd had time to plan out what she was going to say, but it was a good speech nonetheless.

"And," she continued, "it has also been brought to my attention that the school's policy on bullying is not only ineffective - it's practically non-existent. Some students have been bullied on a daily basis. They've been taunted and called names, had their personal property burnt - some have even been physically attacked and injured, and absolutely nothing has been done to stop it. I'm sure we can all agree that's not the kind of behaviour we want in *any* of our schools, and it's appalling that St James Academy has allowed it to continue for this long."

Amazed, Justin looked at Debbie. He'd never told the Senator about being bullied at all - he didn't want to risk coming across as some weak faggot - and the shocked headshake from Deb confirmed that she hadn't either.

The only other person who would've told her...

Shit.

Brian.

*

As soon as it was possible to get away from school, Justin raced home and got changed into the most respectable looking clothes he had. He needed to see Brian and he needed to see him *now*, but knew turning up at Brian's office in his school uniform would be a bad idea right from the start.

Pulling on a pair of cargo pants, he completed his outfit with a pair of dress shoes and a blue sweater. Running back downstairs, he gave Vic some vague indication that he'd be back later, grabbed his scarf and coat and bolted out the door.

Knowing where he was going this time, it didn't take Justin all that long to reach the Ryder office building. This would be, however, his first time actually in the building, so he looked around as he stepped inside.

A sign on the wall told him that Ryder, Inc. was on the fourth floor, and security didn't seem particularly tight, so Justin snuck into an elevator and headed up to the fourth floor.

Once out of the elevator, he saw what was obviously the front desk of the company, and took his coat and scarf off as he approached. The woman sitting behind the desk frowned at him speculatively, so Justin smiled.

She smiled back. "How can I help you?"

"Hello," he did his best to sound professional. "I'm afraid I don't have an appointment, but I'm here to see Mr. Kinney."

"Hmm, well, Mr. Kinney's a busy man, but he may not be in a meeting at the moment. I'll check with his assistant." Picking up the phone, she looked at him. "What was your name?"

"Justin Taylor."

"From?"

Uh...shit. She'd want a company name. "Novotny Enterprises."

Obviously not recognising the name, she frowned at him again until Justin smiled again - at which point she started dialling a number and brought the phone up to her ear. "Hello, Cynthia? I have a Justin Taylor here from Novotny Enterprises, asking to speak to Mr. Kinney. Yes, he knows he doesn't have an appointment, but...oh. Yes, of course. Thanks. I'll tell him. 'Bye." Hanging up, she graced him with a smile. "Cynthia will be here to take you back in a moment."

"Thanks," he nodded, stepping away from the desk and feeling pleased with himself. That feeling lasted until Cynthia arrived, introduced herself, and started walking him through the office. Brian had mentioned her - even spoken to her on the phone a few times while Justin was around - so it was interesting to see what she actually looked like.

"So," she said, "Novotny Enterprises?"

"Sure." He tried to ignore the growing feeling that she knew he was bullshitting.

"You know," she turned a corner by a cubicle, "I've been Brian's assistant for a while now. Who do you think Michael calls when he wants to talk to him?"

Fuck. "Look, I just-"

"Don't worry," she smirked, and it was eerily reminiscent of Brian. "You're the infamous Justin. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Wait. Infamous? What? Did that mean... "You've heard of me?" He couldn't remember actually calling Brian at work, but it might have happened.

"Not directly," she confessed, grinning. "I'm sure you know how Brian is. But being his assistant here, I see more than most. And sometimes he *does* slip up. Just between you and me," she paused at the end of a hallway, arching an eyebrow in another uncanny Brian imitation, "he hasn't fucked anyone for an account in months."

Holy shit. He hadn't...did that mean...? Fuck, Justin so wasn't going there. He'd accepted that Brian fucked other guys, and he wasn't about to start daydreaming again about being the only one he was sleeping with. Not right now. And why the hell was Cynthia telling him this anyway, when they'd only just met?

Continuing along the hallway - her legs were long, and Justin had to jog to catch up - she stopped by an office and knocked on the door. Peeking through the blinds on the windows, Justin could see Brian sitting at his desk.

Not waiting for a response, Cynthia opened the door. "Your next appointment is here."

Distracted, Brian didn't glance up at first. "I didn't think I had a..." And then he did look up, the words dying on his lips as he saw Justin. "Hey. What the fuck are you doing here?"

Justin stepped further into the room, holding Brian's gaze. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

They stared at each other.

"Ah," Cynthia said from somewhere behind him, "I'll leave you two to it. You...might want to close the blinds."

Justin heard the door shut firmly, and then he and Brian were alone.

Predictably, Brian feigned ignorance, leaning back in his chair and calmly clasping his hands together. "Maybe if you give me some idea of what you're referring to I'll be able to help."

Fine. Brian wanted to run this like a business meeting? Justin could do that. Throwing his coat and scarf onto the sofa behind him, Justin turned back towards Brian and remained standing. "It's been brought to my attention that you've been discussing my personal business without my permission."

Brian didn't back down. "Would you care to elucidate?"

He really *was* playing hardball. Justin would've grinned if he hadn't been pissed off. "Senator Baxter."

Finally, Brian began to look uncomfortable. "I merely informed her of the problems you'd had in trying to set up your club-"

"As well as the bullying and abuse I've taken from Chris Hobbs and his jock jerks."

Brian stared at him. "Yes."

"You had no right."

"Why not?"

Jesus. "Because that was *my* problem, Brian, it was specific to *me*. Getting the club started is one thing - that's for everyone. But this? I know I'm gonna get shit for protesting and fighting for the club anyway, but I don't need those pricks thinking that I can't take what they dish out. That I went running off to the Senator and asked for help. That I couldn't stand up for myself."

"Justin, anyone who even remotely knows you knows that you're more than capable of dealing with those assholes."

A compliment, at last. "Then why did you tell her about it?"

Pushing himself up, Brian glared. "Because there's no fucking reason you should *have* to be capable of dealing with those assholes - that you should *have* to put up with that kind of abuse. It's not fucking right."

The thought was nice...if kind of controlling. "I think you've said more than anyone else about how life just isn't fair sometimes. It can be shitty, but that's the way it is, and we have to deal with it. I think it's really, really sweet," Justin grinned. Brian glowered. "That you care so much about me and want to help, but just remember that it is *my* life. Maybe discussing things that might affect my life before you do them would be a good idea."

Making his way around the desk, Brian sat on the front edge dejectedly. "This means more of that talking stuff."

"Yes," he grinned. "Yes, it does." Taking the few steps closer to Brian, Justin calmly placed his hands on Brian's shoulders and leant closer. "Of course, it'll probably lead to more of this."

"Fair trade," Brian murmured, just before their lips met.

Sighing happily, Justin closed his eyes and just *enjoyed* the kiss. They seemed to get interrupted a lot lately, so it was nice just being able to touch Brian like this; to taste his mouth and his lips.

And, of course, tease him mercilessly when the kiss ended, Justin's eyes still closed as he gently butted Brian's face with his nose. "You so care about me."

Muttering warmly, Brian's right hand slid into Justin's hair and tugged a little too harshly.

Still, they'd seemed to get through that conversation with a distinct lack of melodrama. Not that Justin was disappointed. Not exactly. Fuck knew he didn't miss the riot of emotions they could build up in each other, but there was a certain buzz he got after they had a really good argument that he didn't particularly mind.

"So how did your protest go? I take it the Senator did actually turn up."

Nodding, Justin pulled back a little so he could actually see Brian's face without his eyes crossing. "Yeah, she did. It was pretty cool. We had a good-sized group. News crew turned up. The Senator got interviewed, Deb got interviewed..."

"Deb?"

"Yeah," Justin grinned, matching Brian's amused glance. "I didn't get to hear it all, but I'm sure she expressed her opinions loud and clear."

"Like she'd ever stop," Brian smirked. "So you think this'll get your club started again?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, and he really didn't. "Perkins seriously wasn't amused, but stopped complaining when the camera crew turned up." They both rolled their eyes. "As for if he'll actually bother to make any changes later...I don't know. Maybe being on the news could lead to an investigation or something. And even if it doesn't, at least we got our point across."

Seeming to think it over, Brian regarded him carefully. "I sense a great many protests in your future."

Chuckling, Justin shrugged. "I don't know. It was interesting and I definitely liked having my voice heard, but..." He'd classify the whole experience as *weird*. And maybe vaguely uncomfortable.

"You don't think that way of protesting is quite for you, either." It wasn't a question.

Justin met his gaze. "Yeah."

Brian nodded. "You'll think of your own way. Last I heard, you were a genius."

"That is *so* true," Justin grinned, pleased at the encouragement. "And what was your day like, old man?"

Not even rising to the age reference, Brian lost his smile and glanced away.

Losing his, too, Justin grabbed Brian's chin and made him look back at him. "What happened?"

"Nothing bad," Brian assured him. "Not exactly. It's just..." he sighed, slumping a little. "I saw Gui at lunch. With my kid." Right, Lindsay's French guy. "He's talking about adopting Gus."

Oh, that was just *wrong*. "Brian, I'm sure he's just trying to spook you. Linds wanted you to be the father so much, didn't she? I can't see her agreeing to that."

"I would've thought the same," Brian agreed, "but she's been acting so fucking weird lately. This whole sham marriage thing...yeah, she's always been generous with helping people out, but this is far beyond her usual brand of lunacy."

The whole thing really *was* ridiculous. Though she and Mel clearly had issues, he'd seen them be really happy, and they could be *good* together. Still... "Okay, you may have a point. But...you didn't sign your rights away, right? Which means he couldn't actually adopt Gus even if he wanted to."

"Yeah," Brian conceded, "I think so. It's just the idea of it..." He looked away again, and this time Justin didn't stop him. "I really didn't expect to fucking care about him. And I know I'm not a good dad - hell, I'm upholding a fine family tradition - but-"

"Bullshit," Justin interrupted, making Brian snap his head back towards him. "You're a good dad. Yeah, you're not around all the time, but not all dads are. That doesn't make you a bad parent. You love him, and care about him, and support him, and I know you'd do absolutely anything for him - whatever he needs. And you'll accept him for whoever he grows up to be, and when he reaches your age he'll be proud to say that Brian Kinney is his father."

Brian looked like he'd been hit by a bus - and, naturally, tried to ignore it. "Have you been watching those Lifetime movies again? Because seriously, your dick'll shrink up and you'll start growing a-"

"If you say the word 'twat' I'll never let you fuck me again."

Brian recovered quickly "-strange fondness for plaid." Pausing, he stared at Justin silently. "Sometimes I seriously think you need your head examined."

Justin knew what he meant, but decided to give him a break. "Always," he smiled, grabbing Brian's hand and placing it over his cock. "And if you're seriously worried about the adoption thing," he continued, although it was kind of hard to concentrate as Brian actually had started examining his cock, "we'll go talk to Mel tomorrow. Make sure. Um." The zipper on his cargo pants was down. "You know you've never actually fucked me in your office."

"The thought had occurred to me," Brian breathed, pushing Justin gently away and finally taking Cynthia's advice - he closed the blinds and locked the door.

Standing in the middle of Brian's office with his cock sticking out of his pants, Justin looked from one available surface to another. "Sofa or desk?"

"Not the desk," Brian answered, stalking towards him, and when Justin was pulled down onto the sofa he forgot to ask why.

*

When they walked out of Brian's office an hour later, Justin was grinning from ear to ear. He was also hobbling and not trying very hard to hide it.

Brian seemed pretty pleased himself as they paused by Cynthia's desk. "Unless there's anything urgent, I'm leaving for the day." By now it was pretty close to the end of office hours anyway.

She shook her head smugly. "No messages since you entered your meeting with Mr. Taylor, Brian."

Brian eyed him. Justin grinned.

"Good. Okay. Well, you can leave whenever you're done, Cynthia. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, boss."

Still eyeing Justin as they walked away, he missed Cynthia's wink. Justin didn't, flushing and smirking at the same time, lowering his head.

It didn't take them long to reach the elevator, and when they passed the front desk the woman who'd let Justin through smiled at them. "Goodbye, Mr. Kinney."

"'Night, Janice."

She gave Justin a bit of an odd look as he was obviously leaving for the day with Brian, but that was all. Amused that Brian even knew her name, Justin grinned all the way down in the elevator, but they couldn't talk about it until they were alone - in the underground garage, heading for the Jeep.

"What's so funny?"

Justin shrugged, still smiling. "I just think it's nice that you knew her name."

"Janice?" Brian asked, and Justin nodded. "I know everybody's name at Ryder. How bad would it look to prospective clients if I couldn't even be bothered to know the details of the company I work for?"

Of course. "Right," Justin said as Brian unlocked the Jeep. "So it has nothing to do with the actual people." He didn't buy it for a second. "You couldn't remember my name after our first night together," he challenged, staring at Brian over the top of the Jeep.

"Sure I did," Brian retorted. "I just said I didn't."

"I know," he grinned, and got into the Jeep.

The drive to Brian's was interesting - he'd never been driven home all the way from Brian's office before - and they battled traffic for a while but it wasn't too bad. By the time they parked on Tremont they were both horny again and spent a few minutes making out in the Jeep, against the Jeep, and then on the stairs that led into Brian's building.

Justin was anticipating another good night of 'quality time' with Brian, when a loud voice interrupted.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!"

Frowning, both Brian and Justin turned towards the vaguely familiar voice - and Justin stiffened, horrified when he recognised the man crossing the street towards them.

Kip Thomas.

Fuck!