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Chapter 29 - Passionately Happy Again.

“Yay! You’re finally here!” Qianna brayed as soon as her father stepped foot inside the club. “I was beginning to think you’d chickened out or something.”

“I had to stop him from changing clothes three times,” an exasperated Daphne complained as she handed her wrap off to the coat check boy.

“Did not,” Justin argued, only to be silenced by a look from Daphne. “It was only two times.”

“Whatever. At least we’re here and, for the moment at least, your Drama Princess tendencies are under control,” Daphne smiled at her friend to ease the sting of her words. Then, as they walked through the entrance arch into the main dance space of the club, she exclaimed, “wow! Look at this place! Does this bring back memories or what?”

“Yeah,” Justin agreed, looking around himself with a dreamy look. “Shit, I practically grew up here. If these walls could talk . . .”

“They’d tell stories that you DEFINITELY don’t want your daughter to hear,” Daphne cautioned, elbowing her friend and gesturing towards the girl listening in with avid interest.

“Don’t mind me. I’m always up for a good ‘Dad Gone Wild’ story. It gives me more leverage for when I hit my teens and want to start going out to places like this on my own,” Qianna suggested, giving her father a bratty grin that matched his so perfectly that Daphne started giggling.

“Right. Remind me to send you to a convent tomorrow,” Justin proposed, only half joking.

“Gee, how bad are these stories you don’t want me to hear?”

By that point Daphne was laughing so hard that tears were leaking out of the corners of her eyes. Justin swatted her with a back hand to the belly but that didn’t do anything other than elicit another spat of giggling. Justin rolled his eyes and pretended to ignore her, although the blush painting his cheeks gave away his own discomfort with the subject.

Before QiQi could ask more questions, however, they were joined by the owner of the club himself. “Well, what do you think of the latest iteration of our baby?” Brian swept his arm in an arc taking in the whole of the space in front of them. “I just did another remodel last year. Gotta keep the place up to date so the fags feel they’re getting their money’s worth.”

“It looks like you’ve really spiffed it up from the old days, Brian,” Daphne stated. “It’s much sleeker and less post-90’s disco chic. Although I kinda miss the black walls and stench of male sweat.”

“Never knew you had a kink for sweaty men, Daph. But, stick around till later tonight and you’ll see - not that much has changed,” Brian reassured her.

“Oh good, cuz there’s nothing I Iike more than a room full of hundreds of half-naked, sweaty, lust-crazed, gay men, all ignoring me while they try and hit on my best friend,” Daphne teased. “Yep, just like old times.”

“Well, that never seemed to stop you before. If I remember correctly, you were here almost as often as Justin back in the day,” Brian kidded her good-naturedly. But after they’d all finished laughing about that round of teasing, Brian turned to Qianna and added, “I think it’s time to get this party officially started, don’t you? Can you run and tell Gus it’s time for him to do his thing?”

“On it!” Qianna agreed and immediately started for the stage where she knew her siblings were waiting.

As she was walking away, though, Qianna overheard Brian add, in his sexiest drawl, “so, Sunshine, care to continue this reminiscing while I give you a private tour? I could show you around the new VIP lounge I put in last year. Or maybe just a quick trip to the backroom?”

“Brian!” Justin voiced his complaint, but Qianna thought she detected just a trace of amused interest and it gave her hope that maybe everything they’d been working towards wasn’t completely in vain.

Luckily, Quinne intercepted her sister before she’d even made it all the way to the stage. “Is Justin here yet? Gus and I have everything ready to go and I think all the other guests are here.”

“Dad just walked in and your father’s already got him in hand,” Qianna assured her. “Last I heard, he was trying to talk Dad into a tour of something called ‘the backroom’.”

“Shit! We better get going then. There’s no telling what trouble Pops will get himself into if we let him take Justin to the backroom.” Quinne started to tug at her sister’s sleeve, hollering as they ran, “Gus! You’re up. It’s showtime!”

Gus, who’d been standing to the left of the main stage area, nodded his head to indicate he’d understood and then moved towards a small podium set up with a microphone. With a signal towards Brian’s Entertainment Manager, who’d been waiting in the wings, the house lights began to dim. The crowd of guests - maybe thirty to forty in all - who’d been milling around the bar and buffet tables, started to coalesce in a group, taking seats in the chairs set up in front of the stage area. When his audience was mostly assembled, Gus turned on the mic and started speaking.

“Hi, everybody! Welcome! I’m Gus Peterson-Marcus-Kinney! And if you didn’t know that, you’re probably at the wrong party,” Gus started off, getting a round of laughter right off the top. “So, in case you’re unclear on the theme of the night, today is my eighteenth birthday.” There was a loud roar of applause. “Thank you! Thank you. I’m glad I made it to adulthood too!” More laughter. “Now, when my parents asked how I wanted to celebrate my ‘Big 1-8’, my first suggestion was that I get an all-expense-paid trip to Greece for the summer, but when my Dad insisted the only way that was happening was if he went along as a chaperone - and we all know that scenario would be just asking for trouble - I opted instead for this party.” Brian, who was standing next to Justin off to the side of the main group of guests waved and shot everyone with his best, sexy lothario smirk. “To start things off, my attorney and orator mother, Mel, suggested that I give a little speech. Apparently, turning eighteen is a big deal or something? It’s a ‘Rite of Passage’ and demands that one examine one’s life, where you’ve been, and what the future holds, yadda, yadda, yadda . . . I know, right? But to make my mother happy, you’re all going to have to bear with me for a few minutes here. Please try not to fall asleep before the big ending, okay?”

While the crowd was laughing and clapping, Gus picked up a remote device, hitting the button and illuminating the electronic screens behind him on the stage. The screens showed a picture, apparently taken in a hospital room, with two smiling but exhausted looking women huddled together in a big bed, Brian in the foreground holding up something wrapped in blankets and grinning at the camera, with Justin, Michael and a few others standing in the background. The assembled guests all oohed and ahhed at the picture.

“This is me eighteen years ago this very night. See that lump of blankets with the blue beanie cap in my father’s hands? Yep. That’s me!” There was some chattering and laughing from the audience as folks pointed to the much younger versions of themselves. “That was the day everything started,” Gus continued. “Now, I realize that, logically, the universe might have existed in some form prior to my birth but, since this is MY birthday, and it’s all about ME, do we really care? For all intents and purposes, the world began the night I was born, right?” More laughter. “And, for what it’s worth, my theory that I’m the center of the Universe, is born out by the fact that stories of many of my family also seemed to start that night. Take my moms, for instance: the night I was born was also the night they became real grown ups and had to learn about adulting and shit. Am I right?” Mel and Lindz both chuckled and nodded to let their son know that they agreed with him. “It was also the night that my father met my future, once-upon-a-time, step-dad, Justin; so, basically, before I was born, Justin didn’t even really exist - at least not as far as Liberty Avenue was concerned - which is all that matters.” Justin shook his head and smiled up at Gus from his seat. “Don’t even get me started on my father - before Justin and I came along he was just drifting through life, completely lost, wandering from one man to the next . . . Well, okay, he sometimes still does that, but you get the picture.” Everyone laughed at that comment, Michael more loudly than anyone. “But you get my point, right? Before I came along and gave the family a reason to exist, it was just chaos, so it really is all about me.”

“After being born, I sped through my childhood just like most other kids . . .” Gus carried on, advancing through a series of other pictures from his infancy and early years, eliciting more amusement over the sweet and funny pictures that were displayed on the huge video screens as he went.

It was a fun trip down memory lane for most of those assembled. There were pictures of most of the Liberty Avenue family from those years so everyone felt included. Quinne and Qianna, who had helped their brother prepare this slide show, smiled to each other, glad that their work was being appreciated even as it was setting the stage for what was to come. Most importantly, almost every photo included a shot of Justin amongst the others, subtly instilling the point that the youthful blond had been very much an integral part of the family back in those days.

“Which brings me to my fifth year on this planet, when an atrocious act of hate - the bombing of this very club - tore my whole world apart as well as my family.” There was a shot of some news coverage showing Babylon the night of the bombing, with emergency vehicles surrounding it and injured people being helped out of the smoldering ruins. “That was the night that a right-wing nut tried to take out their political agenda on our family. It tore up the community and my family as well. After the bombing, my moms decided it wasn’t safe here for us anymore and carted JR and I off to Canada for the next six years.” There were photos of the house in Toronto where the Peterson-Marcus family had lived during that time. “And meanwhile, back here in the States, my father and Justin split up, got back together, got married, and then split up again, leaving a huge hole in all our lives when Justin left.” There was an adorable picture of Gus and Justin together when the boy had been about five, showing them smiling at each other and looking out through a large window in the airport at a scene showing an airplane taxiing away.

“Of course, I carried on,” Gus continued once the sad comments from the audience died down. “I did my best not to let the loss of one of my parents affect me as I did my thing in MY universe.” There were a few more pictures of elementary school-aged Gus. “But just as I was starting to adjust, along came another addition to our family when one day, out of the blue, my father showed up with a squawling, stinky bundle of annoyance named ‘Quinne’.”

A picture of Brian holding a screaming infant and looking totally freaked out was splashed across the screen, earning a huge roar of laughter from the guests as Quinne stood up from her chair, spun to face the crowd and gave a cheeky bow. There were several more pictures after that, each displaying more family scenes from Gus’ childhood as he matured through middle school and high school. Again, there were lots of pictures of everyone in the family, including Brian. The one noticeable contrast between this series of pictures and those that had been taken before the Babylon bombing, though, was that Brian was rarely smiling any longer. He seemed set apart from the rest of the group in most of the photos; off to the side, there but separate from the fun, with a wistful look to him that was unsettling.

“So here I am, thinking that I’ve made it all the way to adulthood,” Gus continued his narrative before clicking on the remote and bringing up a picture of the twins - one standing on each side of him - and the three of them grinning in unison for the camera, “and all of a sudden I’m confronted by the prospect of yet another sister popping up out of nowhere. I mean, what is with these pesky little sisters, huh? As if JR and Quinne weren’t enough a burden, now I’ve got another one? And Qianna is, like, Quinne squared, so it’s really, really bad.”

“Love you, Gussy!” the pest in question yelled from where she was seated next to her sister.

“Back at ya, QiQi!” Gus replied with an adoring smile. “Anyway . . . I figure she can stay, especially since she brought back our lost blond boy with her.” The screen above Gus’ head showed a new picture of Qianna and Justin together, sitting at a patio table near the pool at Britin. “So now I’m whole again. I’ve got all my parents back in one place, and all my annoying sisters to keep me amused, and I FINALLY turned eighteen, and I’m off to PIFA next week to start my career as a graphic artist, so I’m thinking my life is all sorted, right? Cuz remember, it’s ALL about ME.” More laughter, and murmurs of ‘he’s his father’s son’, before the star of the night continued. “But, no! All is not right! Because, just when I have everything sorted the way it should be, I’m confronted by the threat of my step-dad leaving again! Can you believe it? I know, right? My newly-restored, long-lost, prodigal step-father, the inestimable Justin Taylor, refuses to stay put! He’s going to disappear on me again, skulking back to the wilds of deepest, darkest, California, never to be heard from again and leaving me - remember this is all about ME, right? - leaving me with a huge hole in my life once more! Which is, frankly, unacceptable!”

There were sympathetic groans throughout the audience along with some outright derogatory comments aimed Justin’s way. The subject of this criticism cringed in his seat. But, when the commentary became too vocal, Justin stood up and responded directly to the accusations.

“I’m sorry you felt abandoned, Gus. That was never my intention. I had no idea you felt like there was a hole in your life,” Justin insisted. “But I promise I’m not going to just disappear on you again. Even though I’m going back to San Jose, I promise not to ghost you this time.”

Unnoticed by Justin or any of the rest of the audience, one of the guests had already surreptitiously made his way up to the edge of stage by this point and was ready to take over the narrative. With a wireless mic in hand, Brian emerged from the wings, a serious look on his face.

“Gus isn’t the only one who’s gonna miss you, Sunshine,” Brian stated bluntly.

“Brian, we’ve already discussed this,” Justin argued while crossing his arms over his chest. “I have obligations back in California. I can’t stay here.”

“No. You don’t WANT to stay here. Because you’re afraid,” Brian responded while slowly descending the steps leading from the stage down to the main floor of the club. “And I can’t blame you for that. You’ve been hurt too many times - I’ve hurt you too many times - and you’re right to be wary. But don’t you think you’ve been hiding for long enough? Maybe it’s time to take another chance. A chance at being happy again?”

Justin shook his head, his lips screwed up in an angry moue. “You’re still as arrogant as ever, aren’t you, Brian? How dare you assume that you’re the only thing in the world that will make me happy? I’ve been perfectly fine on my own, thank you very much.”

“Perfectly fine? . . . How perfectly boring . . . Wouldn’t you rather be passionately happy again? Because I don't care how much you try to deny it in public, I KNOW you were happier - WE were happier - together.”

By this point Brian’s slow amble had brought him all the way down the stairs and right up to to where Justin had been standing. The defiant younger blond hadn’t moved an inch. Justin was still standing there looking more stubborn than an angry mule, but now that Brian was hovering over him he was forced to look up at the taller man, which naturally gave him a more submissive posture. Brian meanwhile was smiling down on his former husband with all the overwhelming charisma his presence afforded. To those looking on, there was an almost tangible connection radiating back and forth between the two of them. It was an electric tension. Everyone seemed mesmerized by the tableau and there was complete silence throughout the club except for the two men talking to each other as if they’d forgotten they had an audience.

At the same time, the slide show happening on the large screens behind the stage had switched from pictures of Gus to a series of pictures of Brian and Justin. There were pictures of the two men going back almost two decades, beginning with pictures of them from the first years they’d known each other, with both looking so remarkably young, to a few taken just the past couple of weeks. And in every single photo of the two of them, you could see the seemingly palpable bond between the pair. They were always touching, or at least looking at each other, as if they were just naturally drawn to one another, almost against their will. There was always a glow around them - one that didn’t come from any filter or trick of the lighting - an outward manifestation of whatever innate affinity they had. It didn’t hurt that they were so inherently beautiful together; Justin’s lightness and innocence contrasting and enhancing Brian’s darker, smoldering handsomeness. When the slides ended on a shot of the two of them standing hand in hand on the day of their wedding, their eyes locked and radiant smiles adorning each man’s face, the crowd of onlookers audibly sighed en masse, causing the two men who’d been locked in a fruitless battle of wills to look up.

“Brian . . .” Justin sighed when he too saw the wedding photo, his body losing much of the tension it had held up to that point. “Why couldn’t you have tried half this hard back when we were still married, damn it?” The last sentence was spoken so softly that if it hadn’t been for the mic Brian was still holding nobody would have heard it.

“Because I was a fucking idiot, Sunshine,” Brian admitted with a soft smile meant for only one man. “And it may have taken me a dozen years to finally get my fucking act together, but now that I’ve got you back, I’m not going to let you get away again. I don’t care what it takes, Justin. Tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it. You want me to grovel? Beg? Because I’ll do it in a heartbeat. You want me to announce to everyone we know that I love you and I can’t live without you? No problem. I’ll fucking yell it from the top of the highest mountain I can find, if that will finally convince you I’m serious.”

Brian turned his body slightly so that he was facing the sea of guests who’d been following every word the two men were saying. “I fucking LOVE Justin Taylor!” Brian stated loudly, the mic he was holding amplifying the statement so that the words rang out through the whole club. “I adore him! I can’t fucking live without him any longer! I, Brian Kinney, LOVE Justin Taylor, and I want everyone in the entire fucking universe to know it!”

After a moment of stunned silence - because it was still hard for some of them to believe what they were hearing, seeing as it was completely out of character for Brian to be so demonstrative - the crowd of guests broke out into a chorus of cheers and applause. Brian looked around him and smiled his typical, snarky, tongue-in-cheek, neerdowell grin. Then he turned back to Justin, reaching out to grab the younger man’s hand in one of his own.

“How can I trust that what you’re saying is real? That this will last? How can I be sure?” Justin whispered, just loud enough that the mic picked up the words.

“You can’t. There are no promises in this world, Sunshine. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith. Grab for what you want and work as hard as you can to make it last,” Brian answered him with a bittersweet smile. “That’s what I’m doing right now.” He paused, took a deep breath, and brought Justin’s hand up to his lips so he could leave a kiss atop one pale knuckle. “So . . . Is it working?”

Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, tilted his head to the side and gave a half-shrug, bit his bottom lip and shook his head, all before he finally opened up those big blue orbs and gave a defeated huff. “You’re fucking impossible. You know that, right?”

“Maybe. But you always loved a challenge, Sunshine. Admit it; that’s one of the things about me you find irresistible.”

“This is never going to work.”

“We’ll make it work.”

“But . . .” Justin seemed determined to argue just on principle at that point.

Brian chuckled under his breath, reached out and grabbed hold of Justin’s shoulders, and pulled the shorter man closer. “Shut up and fucking kiss me already, Sunshine,” Brian purred as he bent to take possession of the lips he’d been longing to taste.

As they kissed, the image from the men’s wedding was replaced by a live action shot of the two of them kissing. The camera, operated by the stage manager at the direction of the twins, slowly zeroed in on the pair, ending in a close up that caught every last second as the two men lost themselves in a spit-swapping game of tonsil hockey that didn’t seem likely to stop any time soon. The image was then, suddenly, replicated onto every single video screen throughout the entire club, creating a legion of kissing Brians and Justins all around them. It wasn’t until Brian dropped the mic while trying to grasp Justin even closer to his body, resulting in a booming screech of feedback, that the two men remembered where they were and realized that they’d become the object of avid interest. Brian bent his head down, burying his face in Justin’s hair with a happy little laugh and then reluctantly pulled away with one last kiss to his lover’s temple.

Brian bent and picked up the mic again, then grabbed his man’s hand and began to tow the reluctant blond behind him up the stairs to the stage. “So, I’m going to interpret that as a ‘Yes, I’ll stay with you, Brian’,” he commented as they walked. Justin only laughed and shook his head again, as if even he didn’t believe what was happening. “Your enthusiasm is a little lacking, Sunshine, but no matter. Like I said, I’m not letting you get away from me this time no matter what I have to do.”

When they’d made it up the stairs and all the way to the center of the stage, Brian turned to face Justin and then abruptly sank down onto one knee. Justin looked startled. Gus and the girls had already moved around so as to flank the surprised man, though, perhaps to prevent him from escaping.

Then Brian looked up at him from below and, in the boldest, most confident voice possible, he asked, “Justin Taylor, would you please do me the honor of marrying me . . . Again . . . And this time I swear by all that is gay, I will try harder not to fuck everything up.”

“You’re serious?” Justin questioned, looking at the man kneeling in front of him as if Brian had a screw loose. “Brian . . . This is . . . It’s way too sudden. I can’t . . .”

“Yes, you can, Sunshine,” Brian assured him, not getting up from his kneeling position and not letting go of Justin’s hand either, mostly because it seemed like the blond would immediately bolt if given half a chance. “I told you I’d do ANYTHING to get you back. Well, this is me putting it all out there. This is me being ridiculously romantic and not caring who knows. This is what I’m willing to do to prove to the man I love, just how much I love him . . . So, are you just gonna leave me hanging here like this, in front of practically everyone we know, or what?”

Justin stared at Brian as if he was trying to see through him. Then he looked around at the rapt audience waiting for his response. And finally, he looked to his right and saw his daughter and her sister, and to his left where Gus was grinning at him like a loon, and groaned quietly.

“You never did play fair, Brian.”

“That’s because, as the Bard says, ‘All’s fair in Love and War’, and I’m going to take every tactical advantage I can get,” Brian declared. “So what’s your answer? Yes or no? Will. You. Marry. Me?”

But still Justin hesitated without speaking, his expression betraying how conflicted he felt. The tension in the room was nerve-racking. Before the silence could get too uncomfortable, however, a strident voice from the audience spoke up.

“Shit, Sunshine! If you don’t fucking say ‘yes’ already - after all that - I’m gonna have to come up there and kick your silly little twinkie ass,” Debbie promised, getting a laugh from everyone watching. “Sheesh! Stop overthinking shit and just go for it. None of us are getting any younger, you know.”

“But, no pressure, right, Deb?” Justin answered her snarkily before turning back to the man still waiting on his knees in front of him. “You’re actually serious about this, Brian? I mean, we haven’t seen each other or even spoken for more than a decade, and after only a week you want to marry me again? You don’t know me anymore. I may not be the same person I was back then. How can you be sure you even still want me?”

“Because I never stopped wanting you, Justin. Not for one single day,” Brian asserted with obvious conviction. “Hell, I knew the first time we fucking did this that you were the only man I’d ever do this shit for. And nothing’s changed for me even after all these years. So . . . Are you going to make me stay down here on my knees until all the circulation in my legs is cut off or are you going to fucking marry me again?”

Justin smiled finally. “Fine. I think you’re fucking insane. And I must be too if I’m letting myself get talked into this mess. But . . . whatever . . . Let’s just do this before I come to my senses.”

“Let’s just do this? Is that the best you can do, Sunshine?” Brian teased him, his lips rolled in to try and hide his smile. “Come on. Say it.”

Justin rolled his eyes - a gesture that the camera which was still following them caught in all it’s bratty glory - and huffed a small laugh. “Did I mention that you were impossible?” Brian only laughed. “Okay.” Justin took a deep breath and then nervously let it out. “Yes.”

“Yes . . . what?” Brian prodded.

“Yes, I WILL marry you, Brian.”

The entire club full of guests erupted with cheers and the applause was momentarily enough to drown out anything more the newly-engaged couple might have said. Qianna and Quinne were jumping up and down and squealing while Gus tried to hold them back from swarming their fathers. Jennifer, Debbie, and even Emmett, seemed to be crying with joy. And, basically, it was chaos for a minute or two.

In the meantime, Brian had climbed back up to his feet with a little help from his fiance. “That’s better,” he said approvingly as he turned to look at his kids. “So, then, let’s get this show on the road. Sonny Boy, Girls, you’re up!”

“What . . .?” Justin looked around himself with confusion.

“You said you’d marry me and I’m not going to give you time to rethink it or get cold feet, Sunshine,” Brian partially explained, even as the kids, along with a couple of the stage crew from the club began to roll a new set of decorations out from behind the curtained off wings.

“What the fuck?” Justin exclaimed as Brian towed him out of the way so that the Q-Twins could position a rose-bedecked-yet-tasteful, wrought iron-framed trellis in place in the very center of the stage and a stagehand could roll out a red carpet runner that led from the trellis towards the front of the stage. “What the hell are you doing, Brian?”

Brian only shrugged and smiled in a playful way that caused Justin to groan. Luckily the transformation of the stage only took a couple minutes thanks to the efficiency of the crew, and before Justin could really get to complaining, it was a done deal. The sound system began to play an electrified version of the Wedding March complete with techno thumpa-thumpa beat and crooning backup singers. The girls and Gus reemerged from the back carrying bouquets of flowers and boutonnieres for the fathers, followed by Daphne and Michael, who had self-appointed themselves as attendants for the wedding party. Justin was still just standing there, gaping, while Gus pinned a flower below the collar of his shirt - a small rose which perfectly matched the red silk button down shirt that Brian was wearing - which, it must be noted, was the same type of shirt as the one Qianna had supposedly purchased for her father, just in a larger size and different color. Brian’s boutonniere, of course, coordinated with Justin’s shirt, because, you known, Brian Kinney and ‘style’. Together they looked like the perfect offset pair.

Then, the last of Brian’s surprises appeared.

Walking out of the wings came a young woman with strawberry blonde hair, a swathe of freckles across her upturned nose, and a smile that was almost a rival for Justin’s. Most of the people in the audience didn’t know her, but at least one of the guests - Jennifer Taylor - gasped when she recognized the woman who was dressed in a dark purple cassock with a rainbow-printed clerical stole around her shoulders and carrying a bible. Even Justin himself didn’t seem to recognize the minister at first. But when it finally hit him just who he was looking at, he seemed like he was about to faint.

“Molly? Is that you?”

“Hey, Jester. Surprise!” Molly replied with a wink.

“But . . . what . . . I mean, I didn’t think you approved of . . . well, any of this . . .” Justin’s confusion caused him to splutter.

“I didn’t used to, thanks to our dear old dad,” Molly explained with a smile. “But, then I started at the seminary and realized that Dad’s brand of religion was just another form of glorified hate. Most modern ministries these days welcome everyone, and so do I. I’ve been meaning to contact you and offer my apologies for whatever I might have said in the past - I was just waiting for a good opportunity, you know - but when my nieces contacted me and told me what they were planning for you two, I knew I wanted to be part of the surprise. So, surprise!” Molly leaned forward and gave her big brother a huge, healing, hug. “Now, how about we get you two married so this party can really get started?”

By this point Justin seemed so bowled over he was no longer capable of saying anything. Thankfully, Brian was happy to take charge. He led his fiance over so that they were standing on the red carpet directly in front of the trellis. Justin in his sapphire blue shirt and Brian in his ruby red shirt turned to face each other while Molly took up her position standing behind them under the peak of the trellis’ arch. Daphne moved around so she was standing off to Justin’s left with Qianna at her elbow. Michael took up his spot to Brian’s right with Gus and then Quinne beside him. And then, when all of the impromptu wedding guests were in place and the music had finally died down, Molly began to speak.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you all here today to celebrate the marriage of Brian and Justin . . .” she intoned using the age-old formula for such things.

It was a short and simple ceremony. But that seemed appropriate seeing as how Brian had sprung this whole thing on Justin without warning. They’d already had one wedding with all the hoopla and fanfare and, to be honest, neither man really needed that a second time. Molly confidently led them through the traditional vows, which Brian repeated in a booming and enthusiastic voice, Justin following suit in a more subdued but still earnest tone, and then it was done. They were officially married. Again.

It wasn’t until his sister announced that it was time for the newlyweds to seal the deal with a kiss, that Justin blinked at the assembly standing around him and the guests watching from out in the audience and actually smiled one of his patented Sunshine smiles.

Qianna, echoing her father’s grin, shared a happy look with her co-conspirator, Quinne. Qianna was almost as incredulous as her gobsmacked father. She couldn’t believe they’d somehow accomplished this coup. All her hopes and dreams for a family had finally come true and she’d managed to guide her father to true happiness at the same time. In her heart she just knew that this was what they’d both needed for a long, long time. And, yes, it meant some HUGE changes, but that was exciting, as well as scary. She had her dad, she had Quinne, she had Gus, and now she also had a new father in Brian, and a new family here in Pittsburgh.

The cheering from the guests soon devolved into catcalls and hoots as the boys’ kiss rapidly turned into something a little more heated, with significant amounts of tongue, and a bit more groping than was probably advisable for the PG crowd of onlookers at this event.

“Shit! I think they’re going to consummate this thing right here and now! I wish I’d brought the video camera,” Debbie joked loudly enough to finally get through to Justin, as evidenced by the blossoming crimson blush that painted his cheeks as he pushed Brian away.

“Actually, that sounds like a superb idea,” Brian declared with a classically rakish Kinney grin. “How about that tour of the VIP lounge, Sunshine?”

“Brian!” Justin chided his new husband with an affectionate swat to his midsection.

“I’m just saying . . . It HAS been almost thirteen years, you know?” Brian’s eyes were sparkling with a sense of fun that nobody had seen there in more than a decade and he waggled his brows suggestively while trying to tug his husband towards the edge of the stage. “Besides, we’ve already imposed ourselves on Gus’ birthday celebration enough. I’m sure Mr, ‘It’s All About Me - I’m the Center of The Universe’, can take over at this point. Can’t you, Sonny Boy?”

“Sure thing, Pops. You two are excused,” Gus confirmed before turning back to his audience. “I think it’s time for all of you to give me gifts now, anyways. Am I right? So, who wants to be the first to shower the Birthday Boy and Best Son with presents?”

There was another round of laughter as the stage crew began to remove the wedding decorations and the music was switched back to something more party-like. And, as Gus descended from the stage heading towards the table that had been set up off to the side heaped with gaudily wrapped packages, Brian leaned in and deposited one more kiss to his new husband’s cheek. He determinedly grabbed Justin’s hand in his own and began to tow the younger man off towards the darker corners of the club, although Justin wasn’t putting up much of a fight.

Qianna stood there watching her fathers as they walked away arm in arm, greeting their well-wishers as they went. She smiled to herself over a job well done. It had been surprisingly easy and she almost couldn’t believe it was true.

“I can’t believe this actually worked,” Quinne said, voicing QiQi’s own thoughts aloud, as she came to stand next to her sister.

“I know, right? I mean, Dad is NEVER this much of a pushover. I half expected him to throw a fit and storm off. Or at least threaten to ground me for life for being so manipulative,” Qianna agreed. “I really thought the surprise wedding thing was just your father being nuts. The best I was hoping for was for Dad to agree to stay and see how things would work out. I never thought he’d go through with it.”

“Well, Pops can be quite convincing when he puts his mind to it. He’s not the best AdMan on the East Coast for nothing,” Quinne bragged. “Plus, I think your dad secretly wanted this just as much as Pops did. He just needed a good reason to give in and Pops’ over the top, ‘romancing the fuck out of him’, antics gave Justin the excuse he needed. They‘ve BOTH wanted this for probably longer than they’ll ever be willing to admit. And now it’s on to the happily ever after.”

They both watched as the new couple dodged the last of the congratulatory family who’d been holding them back and continued on their way towards the rear of the club. From the way they were stopping every couple of feet to kiss and fondle each other, it was pretty clear what they were going to do once they found some privacy. In fact, judging by their progress so far, they’d be lucky to make it all the way to the VIP lounge with their clothes still on. Even as the girls watched, Brian was undoing Justin’s belt and shoving one hand down the back of the younger man’s pants.

“Ewww! You don’t think they’re actually going to . . . you know?” Qianna asked, as the happy pair separated from another kiss just long enough to stumble laughingly through a doorway. “Here? Now? With all of us waiting out here? Gross . . .”

Quinne only laughed at her naive sister. “Yeah, It’s probably a good thing that their bedroom is on the other side of the house.” Qianna nodded at her sister and shuddered.

“Dad sex . . . I mean, ewwww!”

“Let’s not think about it, please,” Quinne urged. “It’s going to be bad enough having to be around them all the time for the next few months. If I know my Pops, it’ll probably be days before they even come up for air.” Quinne grabbed QiQi’s arm and started tugging her towards the refreshment table. “But in the meantime, we deserve to celebrate. We done good, Sis! So, come on and let’s party! And then tomorrow morning we’ll get started planning what it will take to get you guys finally moved in for good. ”

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