"Why must we always be late somewhere we go together?" I groaned, standing by the door, waiting for his Majesty to be ready.

"It's all your fault for deciding to step out of the shower naked!" Brian shouted in my direction.

"I'm sorry. Next time I'll shower dressed so I won't tempt you to nearly spill my brains out on the floor in your attempt to get your dick inside me."

"How could I know you'd slip?"

"I was fucking wet. Anyway, are you done? I promised Michael we'd work on Rage before dinner. At this rate, we won't even make it to dinner on time." I leaned against the wall, counting backwards from one hundred. If he didn't make an appearance by the time I reached zero, I was leaving without him.

"Have you seen my satin shirt? I want to go to Babylon after dinner."

"I don't know where your fucking shirt is. I don't care what you wear for Babylon." Maybe he'd get the hint that I wanted to keep him all to myself.

"Have I taught you nothing, Sunshine? You can't walk into a room full of horny queers not looking your best. Especially me. They have expectations of me."

"Just like I do," I mumbled, sighing loudly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Just get dressed already."

My countdown was going dangerously close to top ten when Brian appeared in my sight. He had a black sleeveless shirt and a blue plaid flannel shirt over it, left unbuttoned. I couldn't help but gape. I had no idea he owned anything flannel. I surely didn't. It was for lesbos.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" I protested. "We're not turning back halfway because you realize flannel isn't your thing."

"I knew it. I'm going to change."

"NO!" Scared he was going to disappear in the abyss of his closet again, I pulled him out the door. "You look great. I just had no idea you…had anything flannel in your wardrobe."

"It's only for dinner at Debbie's. I'll take it off the second we head to Babylon."

"Still, it doesn't explain why you own such a thing." I pushed his leather jacket to his chest as I locked up.

"If you must know, it was a gag gift from Lindsay and Melanie when I turned twenty-seven." He dragged me into the elevator. "I had this misconceived idea that fabulous people died at twenty-seven. I wanted to own something flannel before I died."

"And look at you! You even made it past the dreadful three-oh," I mocked him.

His explanation made sense. It was such a typical Brian thing, I couldn't even find it in me to question him.

On the way to Debbie's, Brian pestered me with questions on what I wanted for my twentieth birthday. He didn't want to make any more mistakes.

"I know what I want for my twenty-first," I said, hoping to stall his influx of questions. "I'll be a real adult then so I want lots and lots of booze."

He rolled his eyes, slapping the back of his hand to my chest. "What about your twentieth? It's in a little over a month."

"We have many things to worry about before that. Like that asshole you're trying to make a mayor. Leave my birthday alone. As long as you don't get me a trick, I think we're good."

"Duly noted."

Even though I'd tried fooling Brian into leaving early, we ended up on time for dinner. My planned hour to work on Rage with Michael was gone. Fuck his queening over clothes and his inability of keeping his dick in his pants.

"Be still, my heart." Debbie stared at us in shock when she opened the door. "I lived the day to see Brian Kinney on time. Whatever you're doing, Sunshine, keep it up." She patted my cheek.

"He's keeping it up, all right," Brian joked, kissing my cheek.

I shot Michael an apologetic look. "I couldn't come earlier."

Brian kept his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me close. "Nope. You came right on time."

I flushed, freeing myself from his grasp and heading to where Michael was on the couch, doodling on a paper. "Are you upset?"

Shit. The last thing I needed was another fight with Michael.

"It's okay, Justin. We all know how Brian can be."

"I bet even Emmett gets ready faster than him when he has to be someplace."

"Did I hear my name?" Emmett approached us from the kitchen. "Oh, lookie, who decided to be on time!"

"One simple curiosity," I said, accepting Emmett's kiss on my cheek. "How long does it take you to get dressed? Everything...from the moment you decide to get started—clothes, hair, the likes."

"Well, I don't know, sweetie. It all depends; I can be done in ten minutes flat if I'm in a hurry, but I'm self-conscious all the time I'm out of the house."

"Ten minutes is the average time it takes a normal person to get ready to leave the house," I explained, rolling my eyes.

"But usually, it takes me a little over half an hour," Emmett added.

Brian scared the shit out me by leaning over the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind. "You must share the techniques you use," he told Emmett.

I was one hundred percent sure we were suddenly talking about different things.

Michael seemed to think the same as me. "We were talking about how long it takes Emmett to get ready to leave the house. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, here I was impressed at you for holding your orgasm for half an hour, and you were talking about getting dressed." Brian groaned, propping his chin on top of my head. "Besides, it takes me under five minutes to get dressed. What takes longer is the process of carefully selecting the right choice of clothes for the day or event."

"It took you over an hour to decide," I grunted, freeing myself from his grasp and turning to face him. "We were coming for dinner at Debbie's, not meeting the President."

"And after dinner, we're going to Babylon." Like that explained everything.

"Dinner's ready, kids!" Debbie called from the kitchen.

Emmett skipped over to help with the last touches, Michael joined Ben helping him pour wine in glasses, and as I got up from the couch, Brian pulled me back down. He leaned over me again, kissing me deeply.

I wrapped my hands in his hair, trying not to let any sound escape me, but fuck, it was that kind of kiss that made my toes curl. Somehow, he ended up over the couch, straddling my hips, almost devouring me. Fuck, so much for being decent.

"Didn't you get enough at home? Don't fuck him here," Debbie chided us, pulling us apart and steering us to the table.

"There's no such thing as enough, Deb," Brian declared, sitting down at the table and pulling me on his lap.

I squirmed, embarrassed as hell. No matter how much time I spent with Brian, I still couldn't be as careless of what other people thought. Maybe it was the way I was brought up, or simply a common sense of decency, which Brian lacked profoundly.

Unlike the first time Brian was so open with his feelings, which was right after he took me in when I was released from the hospital, the family didn't seem too surprised to see him acting so strange around me.

"Stop moving unless you want me to fuck you right here," he hissed in my ear.

I bit on my lip to keep from moaning. "I want to sit in my chair."

"Nope. Pass the salad."

He was taking it too far. Was he seriously going to keep me on his lap the whole meal? I wasn't sure if I objected or not.

The conversation around the table flowed, covering everyone's whereabouts, but every now and then I could see their eyes lingering on us. Brian kept his left hand on my thigh, dangerously close to me half-hard dick, while eating as if having me on his lap was the most common thing. I tried to push down some of the delicious food Debbie had cooked, but my stomach was a knot of nerves.

"So Justin…"

I started at Vic calling my name and nearly jabbed my fork in Brian's outstretched hand, reaching for bread.

"Yeah?" I put my fork down, folding my shaky fingers on my lap.

"How's the new job treating you?"

"Good. I really like it." I beamed.

"Especially when he has the privilege to be fucked by the boss," Brian added off-handedly, sipping from his glass.

"So is this what you want to do in life?" Debbie raised an eyebrow. I choked on my spit. "Being a graphic designer," she supplied at everyone's amused looks. "Christ, you lot have your minds set on the dirty."

"Your question came at a dubious time," Vic joked.

"Uh, I like it but I'd rather paint…my own things," I explained. "Of course, if my dream career as a poor artist fails, I'd choose this any day. So far I've learned a lot of cool stuff." I turned to grin at Brian.

"He fits just right under my desk."

I turned red, elbowing him in the stomach. "Piss off."

He groaned. "Did you reset yourself? I thought we were done with you saying 'piss off' when shit didn't go your way."

Everyone burst out laughing, but I wasn't amused. "Piss off," I repeated, squirming to get out of his grasp…to no avail.

For dessert we had dark chocolate mousse with fresh berries.

I'd always wanted to try strawberries with whipped cream, combined with kissing Brian. But dark chocolate mousse with strawberries and Brian were perfect too.

When he was sure no one was watching, he stole a kiss that had me reeling. The taste of chocolate on his lips…fuck.

"We should steal some of this," he whispered in my ear. "I want to pour some on your chest and lick it off."

"Uggghhh."

"And you can coat my dick in it, then suck me off."

"Gah!"

"What are you doing to him, Brian? Let the poor kid eat," Debbie chided him. "You don't want him to choke on a berry."

"I'd rather if he choked on something else. Too bad Sunshine doesn't have a gag reflex."

"Brian!" Several voices, mine included, shouted his name.

"Christ, I'm surrounded by prudes."

"I think we should go," I mumbled, embarrassed as hell. Brian had a special gift to make me want to dig a hole in the ground ad hide inside it forever.

"Not before I pack some mousse for you!" Debbie hurried to wrap some dessert for us.

"And you didn't even have to beg for it." Brian smirked, making my blush deepen.

"Uh, I promise to drop by the store on Monday. We'll work on Rage then."

"I promise to fuel his imagination throughout the weekend."

I narrowed my eyes at Brian. "Shut the fuck up! Don't make me gag you."

"Promises, promises."

"Just you wait until we get home."

"You're so sleeping at Daphne's if you try anything."

"I'm sleeping at Daphne's anyway. You make sure to kick me out after we fuck…most of the nights."

When I heard a collective gasp, I remembered we weren't alone.

"Is that so, asshole?"

"How can you let poor Justin walk home at such late hours?"

"He takes the bus." Brian rolled his eyes at Debbie and Emmett.

"The last bus is at two. I doubt you're done so early." Michael decided to join the We're Worried about Sunshine club.

Brian gaped at me. "Is that so? Why haven't you told me?"

"I'm fine on my own. As you all can see I'm still here…alive and well."

"I had no idea the bus didn't work all night. You should have told me."

Their sudden worry about my well-being upset me, instead of making me feel loved. "I used to walk home at all kinds of crazy hours…not that long ago," I muttered, not even caring I was entering dangerous territory.

"That's why I changed your shift to the morning or lunch period," Debbie said softly. "Sunshine, we're worried about you. And I'm sure that now Brian knows the bus's schedule, he won't kick you out like yesterday's trick." She shook her finger at Brian.

"I didn't know," he repeated, hugging me tightly.

I escaped his embrace, went to kiss Debbie's cheek, accepted the mousse container, then headed to the door. I heard Brian biding goodbye to everyone, before following me.

He caught up with me when I reached his car. "You're such a drama princess, Sunshine."

"Can you drop me off at Daph's? I don't feel like Babylon."

"We can go home without a stop to Babylon."

"I don't want to be around you right now."

"Shouldn't I be the one creating a scene after you whined to the family about how poorly I treat you?"

"I didn't mean it like that. And I swear I didn't mean to say it in front of them." I sighed loudly. "Look, I get it. You don't trust me anymore. Fuck, I don't trust myself. I've been such a shit to you, but you don't have to treat me like any other trick. I'm the guy you fuck more than once, I should have the privilege to at least shower before you kick me out for your eleven o'clock fuck."

"Nothing like that happened this week."

"Yay! I'll mark it on the calendar."

Brian lit himself a smoke. "Justin…if something…if you don't…" He gripped the side of his hair. "Fuck," he spat, inhaling greedily from the smoke.

"You mean, we should talk about it?" I laughed, amused at his jumbled words.

"Yes. Just tell me if something isn't the way you want. I thought you said you knew what to expect."

"I thought I knew what to expect," I cried out, depositing the plastic box on top of the 'Vette. "I knew I wasn't going to move back in, but at least sleep next to you every once in a while, or shower before I leave. And don't give me the past week as an example. It was a nice change to have you next to me the whole night."

Brian brought me closer, his bent arm around my neck, his lips at my temple. "You know it wasn't my intention to make you feel like shit."

"Yeah. Sorry I said all that about you in front of the family." I snuggled closer, accepting the smoke pressed to my lips.

"It's nothing they didn't know about me."

"You're still here?" Michael and Ben came out of the house, watching us surprised.

"We were just leaving," Brian announced.

"See you at Babylon?" Michael checked.

Brian caught my eye, then shrugged to his best friend. "I guess we'll stay home tonight."

I grinned at them, while Brian rounded the car, sliding behind the wheel. Grabbing the mousse, I got in the car.

"You know he'll ask on Monday if you took some bad drug, right?" I laughed.

"Let him know even Rage needs a day off."

"You just want to lick chocolate off my chest."

He smirked. "You got it."

"Do I get the first round? Please?" I was practically salivating at the idea of Brian's cock dripping in dark chocolate mousse, paired with fresh strawberries. "The ice cream kisses have nothing to what's to come."

"That was hot, despite the fact that I was sticky as hell after you left."

"I did my best to lick all the ice cream," I said seriously.

oOo

On Monday morning, we overslept after a fuck marathon throughout the weekend. I'd missed these kinds of days with Brian.

On Saturday night we put the mousse to good use which led to a lot of mess which led to a long, satisfying shower, before finally heading to bed. Only a few hours later, Brian nudged me awake, demanding more, jokingly reminding me of promising long, hard hours, sometimes deep into the night. We woke late on Sunday, and I worked on a quick breakfast, which was half-eaten when Brian got frisky. We continued to alternate between fucking, eating, and napping throughout the day. When ten at night came, I realized Brian had plans of heading to Babylon in his head, but I pushed them away by inserting a mix dance CD in his player, tugging him in the middle of the loft and dancing. Naked. It was a thousand times better than Babylon.

Needless to say, we fell asleep only a few short hours before dawn. And his stupid clock didn't ring, which was the reason we were running around the loft like two headless chicken at ten to nine.

I was fruitlessly searching for one of my socks, mysteriously gone, possibly forever, when Brian bounded down the steps with the towel around his neck. He shot me a dirty look as if it was my fault we overslept, before coming to a skidding halt in front of his desk. He threw some files in his briefcase.

"Can I burrow a pair of your socks? I can't find one of mine…" I used a small, soothing voice, afraid to have my head bitten off by the angry lion.

"You can help yourself to whatever fits. You're not going to wear that ugly, kid shirt to work, anyway," he muttered, thumping back up the stairs, drying himself off on the way.

"What's wrong with my shirt? We don't have time to stop by Daph's, do we?"

"Take some of my clothes. There must be something that fits you," Brian called from the bathroom.

I managed a couple steps toward his closet when he marched out the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. He snatched the closet doors open, rifling through his clothes, before selecting a few things and pushing them to my chest.

"Take a shoor, you reeh oof shex," he said around the toothbrush. "Fookin' hurry!"

I rolled my eyes, following him into the bathroom. He finished cleaning his teeth, and I took the fastest shower in the history of showers. While I brushed my teeth, I took a piss, as well.

"Your ambidextrous nature is showing," Brian commented from the doorway.

I glanced over to see him knotting his tie, his eyes on me.

I grinned, but that caused me to drop the toothbrush in the toilet earning a loud laugh from Brian. "Fuck off," I muttered, glaring at my toothbrush floating in my piss.

"It's a Monday," Brian joked. "Please, do fish that out before you flush."

"I hate you," I mumbled, looking around for something to help me with the ingrate task. I ended up using the toilet brush to tug the toothbrush out of the water, before picking it in the tips of my fingers and dropping it in the trash. I flushed, then thoroughly washed my hands. Three times.

By the time I was dressed, it was already nine.

Brian kept moving in circles around the loft, his brows furrowed, probably thinking of getting everything for work. I did my own rounds, collecting all my school stuff.

"Fuck! Ow!" I cried out, grabbing my foot when I stepped on the spoon abandoned by the sofa from our mousse fuck session.

"You okay?"

"No! Ow. My foot."

"Put your shoes on."

I stopped hopping around, shivering. "You sounded creepily like my mom when I was younger and walked around the house without shoes."

"Well, she knew what she was telling you," he said distracted.

"Coming from you, who walks barefoot around the loft, it's not very believable."

"Are you done? We're later than late."

I slipped my sneakers on, ignoring Brian's disgusted look. Nothing had changed there—he still disliked my style, but that was one thing I wasn't going to change for him or anyone. I simply couldn't see myself dressed like Brian every day for the rest of my life.

Even his designer jeans felt all wrong on me. I was afraid to smudge them, nevermind his shirt. The fabric felt so soft, like it was barely there, but still I wasn't crazy for the whole fashion thing. The clothes I was currently wearing probably cost more than I could make at the diner in three months.

"Did you have classes this morning?" He asked in the car.

"No, but I have to meet one of my professors this afternoon. So I might not see you until later. How about we meet at Woody's?"

"Do you want me to drive you to school?"

It still shocked me, he offered such normal things, I used to take for granted. "If it doesn't mess with your plans…"

"Then we can grab a bite at the diner."

"Sure." I grinned, liking his plan more than mine.

At work we went on our ways, but met a short fifteen minutes later in the break room, searching for coffee. There were three other people in the room. It didn't escape either of them how naturally Brian pulled two mugs, poured coffee, added sugar and cream, before handing one to me with a smile.

"Thanks," I whispered, feeling my cheeks heating up.

Brian gulped from his coffee, catching the other guys' eye. He shifted into the ruthless bastard boss before my eyes; all his features hardened, and the playfulness from over the weekend was a distant memory.

"Stan," he barked. "Come with me."

The poor guy followed him, terrified.

I seriously doubted Brian could act like a normal person around his colleagues, but then again that was the way he was around everyone. There were a select few who knew the real Brian, the sweet, caring, loving person lying under that asshole façade. I was lucky to be one of them, maybe even number one. I sure as hell knew more about Brian than Michael ever would.

Staring after his retreating form I made a promise to myself to rather inflict pain on myself before I'd hurt him again. I'd do everything in my power to prove him, he didn't make a mistake taking me back. I'd show him for the rest of my life how much I loved him and be there for him even though if he might not accept me at times; I knew that deep down he needed someone beside him, someone to turn to, someone who would listen without judging.

"What's your secret?" One of the other two guys pulled me back from my epiphany.

"Huh?" I distractedly sipped from my coffee, watching Brian shove Stan in the elevator.

"How come Mr. Kinney is treating you so nicely? We were sure he fired you on Friday."

I bit back a smile. "The world is full of mysteries." I walked back to the Art Department, leaving them guessing. It was none of their business what Brian and I did. They didn't need to know we were together, that would have potential disastrous consequences, so we should keep our relationship secret at work. My internship wasn't going to last a lifetime and besides, I loved the thrill of sneaking around with my boss and boyfriend.