"Well, what happened last night?" Michael asked as he slid into the seat directly across from Brian.

Emmett smirked knowingly, before he responded, "According to the glower, I don't think it went as Casanova hoped."

"Casanova?" Ted and Brian mouthed in unison.

Brian opened his mouth to answer, immediately closing it when Debbie appeared to refill their coffee cups, and place a filled one before Michael. Chomping on her gum, she eyed them all closely. As always, despite the glum expression on her face, a spark of love displayed in her eyes as her gaze touched on each of them.

"Thanks, Ma," Michael said, standing long enough to kiss Debbie on the cheek.

"You're welcome, Sweetie." She set the coffee pot down on the table, plopping down next to her son, raising an eyebrow at Brian's pretended look of annoyance. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Ted responded drolly. "Michael was just inquiring about Brian's evening."

Debbie cackled at that. "Well, he's in here an hour before he usually dashes in for coffee on his way to the office... that tells me he wasn't up too late last night."

"That's your take," Brian returned blandly. "Perhaps I haven't even been to bed yet. Ever think of that?"

All sets of eyes turned to look at him dubiously... none of them falling for it. Michael turned to look at Emmett, smiling at him cunningly. "You saw him last, Emmett. Tell us what happened at Boy Toy."

"I couldn't tell you, baby. I went back to Babylon before the auction ended. I was having fun and placed a bid, but the price got a bit too steep for my pockets."

"Auction? Boy Toy? What the fuck's going on?" Deb asked, her eyes scanning over them all.

Ted was first to slide out of his chair, Brian the next one to follow. "I'm off to the office. Looks like my boss will be on time today."

"Yeah. He might fire your ass," Brian clipped out. He pulled out a twenty, slapping it down on the table. "Coffees on me, boys. It's the least I can do since I failed to entertain you to your expectations."

"Aww, Bri. We're just messing around..." Michael moaned. "Sorry, your night didn't go as planned, but I did warn you that nobody seems to be scoring with that kid."

Debbie looked at Brian, laughing boisterously. "Wait a minute. Brian struck out, and at Boy Toy? I thought that bunch was desperate."

Brian rolled his eyes as he slipped into his coat. "I'm glad my private life is such a source of amusement to you all. I'd look into that if I were you. It tells me you're trying to compensate for a lack of one." Shaking his head he glared at them all equally. "Later."

"Damn," Debbie mumbled as she stood to go back to work. "Looks like something crawled up his ass."

"More like he didn't crawl up the one he wanted," Michael responded, earning a laugh from all of them.

"Well, it might be funny now, but I wouldn't count Brian out yet. I've never known him not to get what he wants. He'll wear him down..." Debbie needlessly told them, all of them knowing that would more than likely be the case.

Justin counted the meager amount of tips he'd earned today, shaking his head in disgust. He wouldn't get anywhere this way. Twenty dollars and change were all he came away with after serving coffee for the past six hours. Not only were his tips down, but he had just discovered his hours were being cut as well. Next week he went down to five hours a day in the coffee shop. He'd never earn enough to pay for tuition at art school now, nor would he get away from the disgusting crowd that frequented Boy Toy - Brandon in particular. He began to walk toward his basement apartment, head hung low in despair... knowing he needed to find a solution, and find it soon.

As it was, he could barely pay the bills. Now his hours had been cut. His options were limited. He could either go to Brandon begging for more hours, specifically more time away from the bar, and more dancing, or he could find another daytime job. He was a good dancer, he knew that, and the tips were immense, but he realized with Brandon it wouldn't be that simple. He could go to his partner first, but Justin knew that would only be a temporary reprieve. As soon as Brandon heard of Justin's desperation, he would corner him and force him to accept every illicit desire he had been more than clear he wanted from him. He had been barely keeping Brandon at an arm's length, solely by pretending to be tough and uncaring. Should Brandon learn the truth of Justin's bleak situation, the tables would immediately be turned.

He was now twenty-one years old. If he was going to get into art school, he needed to do so now. Granted, there wasn't an age restriction for cash-paying students, but the longer he waited, the less chance he would be a success. He needed that success for multiple reasons. Art was his passion. The one thing he'd always known he wanted to do. Not living that dream was devastation he couldn't bear to face. Then there was Molly. He hadn't seen his twin sister since shortly after they were placed in foster care following their parents' death nearly ten years ago. Not a day passed that he didn't think of her, and he missed her terribly. Justin surmised it must be the fact of being twins, this connection that couldn't be severed no matter how much time and space separated them. He vowed he would find her again. No matter what he had to do... what sacrifices he had to make - he would find Molly.

Unable to think about anything else, the memories of that night came rushing back. They had just celebrated their eleventh birthday. It would be one of the last days he ever looked into his sister's blue eyes... ones that equally matched his own. He had awakened from a sound sleep to hear Molly's muffled sobs. Concerned that she was having a nightmare, he moved quickly to her room, further alarmed when he found the door to be locked. "Molly? Open the door," Justin called out, his distress causing his voice to crack.

"Everything is fine, Justin. Go back to bed," their foster father called out, anger and something else in his voice... a quality that he hadn't recognized at the time.

Molly screamed out in terror. "Justin! Don't go. Please, don't go!"

Justin couldn't hear what was said next by the demented man. In an instant, he pushed roughly out of the room, his eyes glaring hatefully and drunkenly at Justin. He paused to snarl at Justin in menace. "I shouldn't have listened to the wife. I should have left you at the orphanage. I'm taking you back there tomorrow." He looked back toward Molly, emotion in his eyes that bespoke of intentions he possessed for the innocent girl. "She can stay."

He lowered his head, knowing now was not the time to either mouth off or display how much he understood. Brushing past the lecherous man, Justin moved to sit on his sister's bed, pulling her sobbing and shaking form into his arms. He whispered brokenly against the shell of her ear, "It's okay, Molly. Don't cry." Justin looked over his shoulder, seeing that the drunken lout was stumbling back to his own bed, thinking the two of them were both clueless and defenseless. "Pack a bag. We're leaving here tonight."

"But Justin... where will we go?" she asked in between muffled sobs.

"I'll figure it out... we can't stay here, Molly. That man is bad... he wants to do really bad things to you," Justin bit out, rage in his young body wanting to affect actions that he didn't have the ability to carry out.

Molly continued to sob. "I know. I love you, Justin. Promise me we won't be separated... not ever. Please, promise me. I couldn't bear that."

"I promise, Molly. They won't ever separate us. If they do, I'll run away and take you with me. I swear. They won't ever tear us apart," Justin whispered, clutching his sister tightly to him, not to realize at the time he had spoken his first lie to his beloved twin; unintentionally done, but a lie nonetheless as they were soon separated by a couple that only wanted to adopt a girl. Justin had never been able to find her. He had never given up on finding her, but as the years passed, he realized the odds of doing so were slim to none.

Justin let himself into his apartment, sinking onto the couch, reaching over to pick up a well-worn photograph of his sister. He smiled at it through tears that temporarily blurred his vision. "I still haven't given up, Molly. I will be a success, and I will use that to find you. I swear I never abandoned you. I only hope you believe that."

Chicago, Illinois

Molly sat on the edge of her bed, her fingertips brushing over the frayed edges of the only picture she had remaining of her brother. All of her mementos of Justin had been left behind the night they had fled that despicable man's house. She had managed to pocket the one photo of Justin before they slipped out into the night. They hadn't been gone for long when the authorities had apprehended them. She had still been sobbing in the midst of uncontrollable fear. The officers had typically looked at Justin accusingly. She had barely been alert enough to explain that her brother had just saved her from a vile act from their foster father, foolishly ignoring Justin's eyes cautioning her to silence. Events continued to happen quickly.

They had been placed in child protective services once again, then off to the orphanage. The head of the orphanage, a cold and dispassionate woman, placed her in the home of a young couple that only wanted one child - a daughter. Molly had been devastated once again when they had taken her away from Justin, crying as she watched Justin struggling against those restraining him from following. They had lied to them and said they would be able to see each other. They had never seen each other again. Her heart ached for her twin brother still to this day. When she had questioned her adoptive parents about Justin, they assured her they would check into how Justin was doing. She was told soon after that Justin had run away from the orphanage. As far as she knew, never to be found again.

As she stared bleakly outside, watching as the rain trickled down the side of the window, Molly sighed deeply as tears streamed down her cheeks; the feeling of loss and abandonment sweeping her away every time she thought of her brother. She had never searched for him. One, she didn't have the money. She was working her way through college hoping to realize her dream of attending medical school, just making enough to cover what she needed on a week-to-week basis. And secondly, she couldn't bear the thought of somehow finding Justin only to discover that he didn't want to be found, or worse yet, finding him to be dead. She would go on being miserable and dreaming that Justin had found a happy life somewhere, wishing that someday they would be reunited and they could be a part of each other's lives again.

Molly didn't think such a reality to be very likely, but it was one she hoped for, nonetheless. As she continued to stare out the window, she whispered in a hollow voice, "I hope you're happy, Justin. Most of all, I hope you're safe."

Brian couldn't believe he was doing this - again. Yet here he was, paying the cover charge to enter the doors of the competition when he should be attending his own club. Try as he might, he couldn't stay away. He had to see him again. Justin wasn't the man whom he portrayed himself to the world. The brazen man he presented himself to the masses of drunken and lust-driven fags was only a small fraction of what defined the young Justin Taylor. He had viewed a sadness in the beautiful blond's eyes. An evocative sense of loss that was fleeting, but he was certain of its existence. Brian had been overwhelmed with conflicting emotions in his presence. He wanted both to fuck him and comfort him. Right now all he wanted to do was to see him.

He approached the bar, grimacing when he found Brandon moving from the far side of the bar, undoubtedly in the process of intercepting him. Brian had been hoping not to deal with him tonight. He knew that was a foolish hope at best. "Brandon," he drawled, uncaring of the half owner's irritation.

"Two nights in a row. I'm honored," Brandon said with more than a slight sneer in his voice.

"Don't be. I didn't come to see you," Brian countered, laying a bill on the bar to order a beer.

Brandon's eyes slithered over him in disgust, his obvious weakness for a pretty face and ass more than repugnant to him, most especially when it belonged to the one that he most wanted to fuck. "You're wasting your time, Brian."

He took a long, slow swallow of his beer, leaning his back against the bar... to his disappointment not finding the delicious blond in sight. Fixing a bored expression on Brandon, he responded, "How so?"

"Justin is off tonight, and even if he were here - he wouldn't let you near him," Brandon mockingly told him.

Brian tipped back the bottle of beer, finishing it in one shot. He placed the bottle on the bar, pausing to give Brandon a withering glance... having no desire to voice his intentions nor concern for Justin with this filth that stood before him. He shrugged, replying with a disinterested, "We'll have to see. Goodnight, Brandon. It's always a pleasure."

He walked out of Boy Toy, having no further need or desire to be there. Fuck, he'd wanted to see Justin tonight. There was something about that boy, some undefined quality that made him so special. But what? He had to know more about him. More to the point, he needed to know him. Brian determined to himself he would. First, he had to find him, talk to him. Brian didn't doubt he could get closer to the blond if he was given the opportunity to do so. He just needed to get him out and away from Boy Toy, particularly away from Brandon's watchful eye. Brandon didn't care about Justin. It was obvious he only wanted to use him. Brian wanted to stop that from happening.

Stepping away from Boy Toy and off in the direction of Babylon, Brian smiled when he heard a soft, and sultry voice from behind him. "Slumming again, Mr. Kinney?"

Turning around, Brian pierced the beautiful blond with an all-encompassing stare. A smile curving his lips, Brian responded, "It appears I was."

"Nothing in there to capture your attention?" Justin asked, moving closer to Brian.

Brian shook his head. "No. The attractions were sorely lacking compared to my previous visit."

"Pity," Justin answered.

"It was one, but now things are looking much more promising," Brian told him, his hand reaching out to touch Justin's cheek, his fingers lightly stroking perfect alabaster skin.

Justin laughed, trying to stop the tremor that assailed him at Brian's slight touch. "You don't lack much in self-confidence, do you?"

Brian arched a brow, stepping back to move a hand to himself. "Who would when dealing with this level of perfection?"

Justin shook his head, beginning to walk on ahead of Brian, intuitively knowing the brunet would follow. He gave him a sidelong glance. "Spoiled beyond belief."

"You have no idea," Brian agreed. "How about you spoil me some more. Come back to Babylon with me."

He stilled his steps, turning to look at Brian intently. Justin could think of so many reasons why he shouldn't do this, most of them centering around how deeply this man distracted him, but right now he didn't care. For once he would live in the moment. There had been precious little of that in his life. He nodded his agreement. "Sure, why not. I guess it's time to check out the competition. Perhaps I might learn something."

Brian looked at Justin intently. "I hope that the competition will be far more appealing to you and that when the night is over, it will no longer be the competition, but more the place you want to be."

Justin shrugged. "We'll see, Mr. Kinney. We'll see."

Brian smiled, placing a hand on Justin's back, moving him past the line awaiting entrance and into the doors of Babylon. One step at a time, Brian thought to himself. He had him here... now it was a matter of making him want to stay. Brian was determined and fully focused on doing exactly that.

TBC