Chapter 3 - Fame For A Pot of Ale.

“So, um, this is the guest room,” Brian explained as he gallantly carried Justin’s backpack into the room for him. “I know it’s not much - I just moved in about three weeks ago and I haven’t really finished decorating in here or anything - but I suppose it’ll do. The bathroom is right next door.” 

“Hvala vam,” Justin replied, happy that he at least knew how to say ‘thank you’ in Croatian and hoping that Brian didn’t detect how bad his slavic accent really was. 

“Yeah . . .” Brian clearly didn’t have a clue so he just nodded. “So, I’m guessing you’re probably hungry, right? I mean, it’s got to be a long flight from Croatia?” When Brian didn’t get any response from his guest other than a vacuous smile, he huffed annoyedly. Then he remembered he still had the google translate app on his phone - an expedient he’d used fairly heavily while Kacmar was visiting - and quickly typed in a few words so as to get the proper Croatian translation. “Feel free to get a shower or whatever and we’ll leave to go get some dinner in about a half hour.”

He held out the phone to his twink guest and Justin was able to read the English sentence as well as the Croatian translation. “Ah. Vecera. Da!” he replied and nodded. 

“Okay . . . Good.” Brian backed out of the guest room with a little wave and gratefully retreated downstairs to the sanctuary of his own bedroom where he didn’t have to deal with unwelcome foreign twink guests. “Note to self,” he muttered as he made his way into the bathroom of his own suite, “memorize how to say, ‘wanna fuck?’ in Croatian so I won’t need Google Translate if the opportunity to get into that tight little twink ass ever comes up.” Then he hopped into the shower and spent the next twenty minutes or so envisioning just how he’d like to teach the kid that particular English phrase. 

Justin waited until he heard the man’s steps recede into the distance before he closed the door and flopped down onto the comfortable guest bed. 

Fuck, he was so confused! Nothing that had happened since his plane landed in Pittsburgh made any sense. What the hell was going on? And - an even better question - what was he supposed to do next?

But, since no good ideas came to him while he was lolling there in confusion, he decided that he needed some help to figure this thing out. Digging into the front pocket of his knapsack, he pulled out his phone and tapped at the icon to call his best friend, Daphne. Daphne had always been great at making plans and talking him down off whatever cliff he was on at the time. She’d know what to do, right?

The phone only rang twice before the call was answered with a high-pitched squeal on the other end. “EEEEEE! Justin! You’re calling me and not just texting. Does that mean you’re finally somewhere that has actual phone service?”

“Actually, it does!” Justin assured her. “In fact, I’ve got good news; I’m back!”

“Back where? In the states? When? How?”

“Better! I’m back in the Pitts even,” Justin announced, earning himself another happy squeal. “I just got in about an hour ago.”

“This is so great! But how? The last message I got from you sounded kinda desperate. Weren’t you in Slovakia or someplace, destitute and friendless after Gunter abandoned you for fucking his best friend on the beach after that big, coked out, mafia boss party?” Daph sounded scandalized but also sorta impressed against her better judgment. 

“Well, yeah. Except we were in Croatia, not Slovakia; nobody goes to Slovakia, Daph. And in my defense, I was so drunk that night I had no clue who the hell I was fucking.” Justin was still a little bitter about that whole embarrassing scene. “Gunter didn’t have to be an ass about it and have the hotel manager literally throw me out. But, thankfully, I managed to land on my feet . . . Well, sort of.”

“Tell me!” Daphne prompted eagerly, always happy to live vicariously through her globe-trotting best friend. 

So Justin launched into the whole sordid story of overhearing the mail order bride in the Split cafe and stealing her ticket to America and getting called aside by the flight attendant and then thinking he was about to be arrested. 

“Damn, Justin. You’re so fucked!” Daph moaned. “Please tell me you didn’t use your one phone call from jail to call me, cuz even though I’m pre-law, I have no clue how to get you out of this mess.”

“No. I’m not in jail. At least not yet. But that is why I called, because I have no idea what the fuck is going on . . .” He continued with the story and brought Daphne up to speed through the moment his host had left him alone in the guest room of his fabulously luxurious home. 

“Okay, that’s . . . Weird,” Daphne agreed with him. “So, this guy was waiting for the woman you stole the tickets from but, for some reason, he didn’t really seem all that upset that you showed up in her place? What’s up with that? I mean, you’d think the kind of grade A asshole who has enough money to order himself a wife from Eastern Europe would be a little peeved when she didn’t show up. Especially if he got some unknown dude in her place. Wouldn’t he be throwing more of a stink about that kind of mess up? I would, in his place.”

“Right?” Justin agreed with his friend’s assessment. “If anything, he seemed kinda relieved that I wasn’t the woman he was expecting to see. I think the phrase ‘bimbo with big tits’ was used at one point. Meaning that he was surprised I wasn’t one. Although he really doesn’t look like the type who would want a plastic Barbie doll for a wife.”

“Bet he was surprised to get a Ken doll instead,” Daph teased and Justin laughed along with her. “So, anyway, what I don’t get is how you ended up at his place? When it turned out they weren’t going to arrest you, why didn’t you just thank them and take off?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was still too freaked out to know what to do,” Justin confessed with a sigh. “It all happened so fast. One minute I was thinking that, as soon as this Kinney guy had figured out that I’d somehow taken his bride-to-be’s place, they’d call the cops and have me hauled away to an interrogation room somewhere. And then, the next minute, bam, Kinney and his buddy had dragged me off in their town car. Since I was totally lost, and didn’t want to say anything that would make things worse, I sorta just played along. They all assumed that I only spoke Croatian, so it wasn’t that hard to act like I didn’t understand what they were saying. Before I really knew what was happening, we ended up here and, instead of my ass being locked up in a jail cell, the guy was showing me to his fucking guest room.” Justin laughed at himself and his crazy circumstances. “I honestly have NO clue what the hell just happened, Daph.” 

Daphne was chortling away on her end of the call. “Only you would end up in that kind of crazy situation, Justin. You always have led a charmed life. Even when we were little, you’d find a way to squirm out of whatever trouble you talked me into.”

“It’s a curse; this innocent blond thing,” Justin joked.

If she’d been in the same room with him, Daph would have probably thrown a pillow in his face, but instead she just asked, “But what are you going to do now, Jus? Do you think you can get away somehow? I can borrow my roommate’s car and come get you, if you need me to . . .”

“I don’t know what I want to do,” Justin admitted. “I mean, if I try to run away, they’d probably just find me, right? I had to use my real name and passport to get on the plane - by the way, you would not believe what a hassle that caused at the airport; luckily the hottie ticketing agent in Split believed my story that it was my mother’s name on the ticket and, after a little light flirting, he changed it for me - which means they have my identity if they want to come after me for impersonating this guy’s mail order bride. I think I might be better off sticking around here and trying to charm my way into this guy’s good graces so he doesn’t press charges. It shouldn’t be too hard. I just have to convince him it was all a big mistake and that little ‘ole me would never do anything nefarious like stealing his girlfriend’s ticket.”

“I don’t know,” Daph sounded doubtful. “Your powers usually only work on guys if they’re gay, Justin, and I’m assuming that the dudebro who was waiting at the airport for his Eastern European bride, is probably straight.”

“I don’t know, Daph. The way he was looking at me . . .” Justin chuckled. “I don’t think he’s all that straight; at the very least, I think he’s OPEN to the idea of not being straight.”

“Damn, Jus. Sometimes I think you and your hot blond bubble butt could turn a monk gay. They should put a warning label on that thing or something.” Daphne laughed so loudly at her own joke that Justin had to pull the phone away from his ear. 

“Whatever.” Justin was already aware that his charisma - and his ass, apparently - was legendary. “Besides, you should see this place where he lives, Daph. It’s aaaaamazing. It’s a remodeled firehouse on the west side of downtown and it’s, like, a showroom. There’s a fucking game room and a home theater in the basement and a hot tub on the roof. I’d definitely rather stay here, at least until I figure out what my next move is, than sleep on the floor in your dorm room.”

“I don’t blame you, but you can’t just stay there forever, can you? As soon as they figure out you’re not really Croatian, the jig is up, right? Didn’t you say that the only reason they brought you along to this Kinney guy’s house was because they thought you didn’t speak any English and they didn’t want to just abandon you at some hotel all by yourself? Well, as soon as they realize that you not only speak the language, but were Valedictorian at the swankiest prep school in the city, they’re going to toss you out on your ear. And probably be so pissed off that they reconsider those criminal charges.”

Justin thought about that for a minute and had to concede his friend was probably right. “I guess I could just keep playing dumb. At least for the time being. Once I’ve figured out what’s up with this guy, and can be reasonably sure he’s not going to have the cops hunt me down and throw my legendary ass in jail, I’m sure I can find a way to duck out gracefully.”

“So, what? You’re just going to magically learn to speak fluent Croatian overnight or something? Because you can’t just say NOTHING for days on end while you’re staying with this guy. Can you?”

“I’m sure I’ll get by,” Justin assured her, his boundless self-confidence buoying him up. “I picked up a few phrases during the month or so Gunter and I were in Split. I’m sure it’s at least enough to fake it for the few days it’ll take to convince this guy I’m legit.”

“I have a really bad feeling about this, Jus.” Daphne didn’t sound convinced.

“Don’t worry, Daph. I’m sure it’ll work out. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Kinney could press charges and have your ass shipped back to Croatia - the locus of the crime - and you could get thrown into a dank, musty, slavic prison for the next decade of your life where you really will become a bride. To your sweaty cellmate, Salim.”

“You’re catastrophizing again, Daph,” Justin attempted to placate her. “Statistically, that’s a pretty remote possibility. I think. The Croatian government isn’t going to go to the trouble of extraditing me all the way from the US for a lousy $800 plane ticket.”

“Well, I’m not sure being thrown in jail in the US is much better, Justin. You’re way too cute and blond to do prison. I don’t want you becoming the love slave of some mass murderer with facial tattoos named Bubba, either.”

“Always with the doom and gloom, Daph? Besides, I’m sure Bubba and I would get along smashingly,” Justin kidded his friend and they both chuckled at the images in their heads. “It’ll be fine. Like you said before, I always manage to get out of trouble, some way or another.”   

“I hope so. But, just in case, you know you can always call me if you need me to organize a covert extraction team and I’ll do my best,” she offered, mostly kidding.

“Will do, Daph.” Justin got up and started to shuck off his travel-rumpled clothing. “But I better let you go for now. I’ve got to hurry up and jump in the shower. My host is taking me out for dinner and drinks. Bye, Daph.”

“Lucky dog . . .” Daphne was muttering as Justin ended the call and headed off to the bathroom to make himself pretty for his newest mark. 

After both Brian and Justin had taken showers and changed, Justin headed down to the main floor to meet up with his host. He was starving and hoped that the guy had been serious about heading out to get some dinner; he’d run out of money by the time his connection had taken off in Amsterdam and hadn’t had more than the cheap pretzels they served in economy class for the last two thirds of his journey. He could have eaten a horse, he was so hungry. 

While they’d been apart, each getting cleaned up in their own rooms, Brian had looked up a few additional words, so he could at least explain to Justin that they were going out to eat. The little blond trotted along quite happily as he led the way down to the garage on the ground floor. Once they were in the Jeep, Brian told him where they were headed. He thought the kid seemed impressed at Brian’s language skills when he announced they were going to a ‘restoran’ for ‘hrana’. In response, Justin took out his own phone and pushed at a few buttons; Brian assumed he was using a translation app the same way Brian had earlier. 

Keeping his phone turned away from Brian so the man couldn’t see that he hadn’t really needed any help translating the words, Justin answered him, “da. Thank you. I very hungry. Need to eat.” Justin hoped that his rather bad, fake-slavic accent was at least good enough to fool Kinney.

Brian smiled, thankful that the kid was finally trying to communicate and, even if he was hard to understand, at least the blond’s low tenor voice was sexy and easy on the ears. That should make the rest of the night a little less dismal. He hoped the gang would already be at Woody’s when they got there, though, to help him entertain the kid. He didn’t think the few words he’d looked up were going to make for much of a conversation. Although, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure how the fuck he was going to explain to the guys about this latest development and his new foreign house guest.

Pulling up near the Liberty Diner, Brian got out, walked around the Jeep to open the passenger door, and gestured Justin towards the entrance. That was easier than trying to use words to explain to the foreigner where they were going. The kid smiled and walked quietly beside him down the block.

Before going in, Brian, who’d realized on the silent drive over that he still didn’t even know this kid’s name, quickly googled ‘what is your name’. “Kako se zoves,” he asked Justin. Then, with a hand against his own chest he repeated his name, “I’m ‘Brian’.” 

“Justin” he answered in his adopted accent. In Croatian, it sounded more like ‘Yous-teen’, but at least the name was common in both languages, so he hadn’t had to make up some pretend name for himself in order to keep up his charade. 

Nodding his head, Brian replied, “Nice to meet you, Youstin,” and opened the door for his guest. 

As soon as they stepped through the door, they were greeted by an unwelcome welcoming party. Brian had been hoping to avoid this particular introduction for at least a little while longer. “BR IIII AAAA NNNN,” was screeched at them from the gang’s regular booth. 

Placing his hand against the small of the young blond’s back, Brian propelled Youstin toward the unavoidable. 

Once they got to the booth, and before they could even sit down, the inquisition started. “Hey, Brian. Where have you been? You’re late. And who the fuck is that? Why is that kid with you?” All these questions were shouted at him without a breath in between. 

Jerking his head at Emmett so that the big nelly queen would move to the other side of the table, Brian pushed Justin down into the seat and sat down next to him, then he turned to face Michael. 

Without a pause, Michael started in again with his whining, “Why are you sitting over there with that guy? I saved you a seat over here, Bri. And I haven’t talked to you all day - because, apparently, you forgot how to answer your phone - so I figured you’d want to catch up.” 

“If you would shut the fuck up and take a breath, Michael, I might be able to answer ONE of your questions. And since when do we have to save each other seats like we were in Middle School? You CAN talk to me without sitting on me. We’re all grown up now, Mikey,” Brian commented, annoyed at Michael’s possessive attitude, which had been ramping up a lot lately. Then, turning towards his blond companion, he announced, “this is Youstin. He’s from Croatia. He just got in a few hours ago. Ted and I had to go to the airport to pick him up, which is why I didn’t have time to call you back, Mikey. And, before you ask, he’s here in conjunction with a new client Kinnetik just signed, so be nice.” 

That was all Brian could get out before Michael started again. “Even if he is a client, that doesn't mean you have to bring him with you when we already had plans to go out and have fun. You’re not a babysitter. Can’t he entertain himself for one night?” 

Brian started to respond, but Michael was already opening his mouth to ask another question. “Michael, if you want an answer, you need to shut your mouth until I’m finished. And, if you say one more word, Youstin and I will go eat somewhere else,” Brian finished. 

Michael petulantly crossed his arms and pouted until Brian finished telling them the whole story about Aleksi, their lunch, the mysterious phone call Ted had received, and rushing to the airport for the ‘package’ he had to pick up. The guys seemed to think the entire story was hilarious. They spent at least ten minutes giving Brian shit about being sent a ‘bride’ by his client. It was pretty clear from their jokes that Brian was the last person on the planet who would be interested in a mail order bride. Then they laid into him and started calling Justin his ‘husband’ instead. Brian repeatedly cursed them out but that didn’t seem to stop the teasing.

‘Well’, Justin thought, ‘at least I know I was right and Brian really is gay. It also makes sense now why the hell I wasn’t arrested. It seems like Brian didn’t know I was even coming until right before I arrived. This situation definitely has possibilities.’ 

Brian’s recitation of his crazy story continued long enough that they’d already ordered and the food had been delivered before he finished. Justin had managed to order for himself by pointing to the pictures on the menu. Brian got his usual, as did the others, while Justin simply sat there, eating quietly and listening to the conversation, while observing the dynamics between the other three men sitting at his table. 

Even in that short period of time, he was able to glean quite a bit of information about his new acquaintances. The dynamic between these men was quite fascinating. The two men sitting on the other side of the table seemed to idolize Brian and at the same time were rather judgmental towards him. Justin wasn’t sure why Brian was even friends with anyone who ragged on him as much as these two did. Also, who the fuck WAS this Michael guy? He acted like he owned Brian, even though it was pretty clear that they weren’t a couple. What was up with that, anyway?

After a while the teasing became a little nasty and Michael started to pull Justin in with his derogatory comments. If he weren’t pretending that he didn’t understand what they were saying, Justin would have taken this jerk down a peg or two. He normally didn’t put up with shit like that and was known to have a pretty sharp tongue of his own. When it finally got to be too much, and Justin was in danger of breaking his voluntary vow of silence in order to take this whiney little bully down a peg or two, he decided to get his revenge another way. 

“Like YOU would ever be interested in some skinny little blond twink like this?” Michael laughed, pointing derisively across the table at Justin.

Justin, still pretending like he wasn’t aware of what was being said at the table, made as if to reach across the table to grab the salt, which was conveniently located right next to Michael’s water glass. Then, using the pretense of acting startled when Michael’s next outburst of laughter rang out even louder than usual, he flicked his wrist backwards and expertly tipped the entire glass of ice water over. Thankfully, the icy cold splash of liquid landing in his lap shut Michael up pretty quickly. 

But, unfortunately, the blissful silence didn’t last for long. With Emmett offering wads of napkins and advice, Michael had soon mopped himself up and then went right back to ragging on Brian’s blond house guest. Justin was happily surprised, though, when Michael’s comments started to get a bit too cutting and Brian threatened to take Justin to another table. After that the little twerp shut up, at least while they were still eating. 

When they were almost through eating, Justin reached for Brian’s phone, asking with a glance for the man to unlock it. Brian acquiesced and handed the device over to his mute blond. Justin pulled up the Google Translate app that he’d seen Brian use before. Holding the phone so nobody else at the table could see what he was doing, he typed ‘bathroom’ into the translator and then quickly copied and pasted the result, ‘kupaonica’, back into the translation box, switching the direction from Croatian to English. When he had the word translated back to the English equivalent, he held the phone out and tapped on the speaker icon so the phone would say the word aloud. 

“Bathroom,” the phone said, and Justin copied the word in his bad Croatian accent. “Bassshroom.”

Brian smiled and got up so Justin could slide out of the booth, then pointed him towards the back of the Diner. Justin nodded his thanks and headed in the direction his host indicated. Once he was safely ensconced in a stall in the tiny restroom, he pulled out his own phone - which he hadn’t wanted Brian to see since it clearly had all the apps on the homescreen labeled in English - and texted to Daphne. 

Justin: ‘I was right! He’s totally gay.’

Daphne: ‘No way! So, then, why the Croatian bride?’

Justin: ‘It was all a big mistake. I’ll explain later.’

Daphne: ‘Does this mean you can escape? If he’s gay, and it was just a big mistake, he shouldn’t be angry that you took the woman’s place. Want me to come get you now?’

Justin was about to type out his assent but then he paused. What DID he want to do? Did he want to just walk away?

Daph was probably right; he could easily just leave already. It was pretty clear that the cops weren’t coming after him - not yet, at least - so there was no longer any compelling reason for him to keep up this silly charade. He could simply walk away from this whole mess and get on with his life. Although, if he just walked out the back door of the Diner and disappeared into the night with Daphne he’d likely never again see his backpack and other personal stuff, which he’d left back at Brian’s house. Not that there was anything irreplaceable in there. Other than his iPad, there wasn’t even anything of real value in that bag; he’d been traveling pretty light for a while. Then again, since he didn’t have a current source of income, he didn’t want to simply abandon the few possessions he still had.  

Which meant he’d either have to wait until Brian took him back to the house and then do a runner, or he could come clean, confess all his sins, and beg for forgiveness. Brian didn’t seem like a bad guy. Or like someone who was particularly vindictive. He didn’t think Brian would get overly angry or call the cops on him when he explained why he’d tricked him like he had. At worst, Brian might demand that Justin reimburse him - or his client, since it sounded like that was who had paid for the plane ticket - for the cost of the airfare. Justin figured that was fair; he could probably even borrow the money from Daph and then just pay her back later. 

But . . . For some reason he didn’t want to analyze right then, Justin didn’t want to leave yet. 

The thing was, Justin had always considered himself an intuitive person. He wasn’t the type to overthink his own motives. What Daphne had said about him living a charmed life was sorta true. He’d always chalked it up to being intelligent and adaptable enough to roll with life’s punches. But he also believed in trusting his instincts. And this time his instincts were telling him not to be too hasty. 

Or, maybe it wasn’t his instincts, but his dick - which was telling him that Kinney was totally fucking gorgeous and, judging by the comments the guy’s friends had been making earlier, would probably be a great fuck - but either way, he wasn’t in a hurry to go crash at Daphne’s for the night. 

Justin: ‘Thanks, Daph, but I think I’ll stick around here for a little longer.’

Daphne: ‘WTF?’

Justin: ‘I promise I’ll call you later tonight and you can talk me down then.’

Daphne: ‘You’re crazy, you know?’

Justin: ‘Nothing new! Wish me luck.’

Daphne: ‘Luck!’

Justin stuffed his phone back in his pocket, finished up his business in the john, and hurried back to join his host. He didn’t know what his next step was going to be. But, in the meantime, Justin decided that he would sit there and pay attention to what his gut was telling him. He trusted himself enough to figure out what the right thing to do would be and when he should do it. In the meantime, it wasn’t exactly a hardship to spend more time with a gorgeous stud like Brian Kinney.