Chapter 7 - Kill All The Lawyers.

“Beckestany,” she answered the phone, frowning because she recognized the number and really wasn’t in the mood to deal with this particular client this morning. 

“Why you fuck me over, Beks? I pay good money and you no do your job!” the angry voice of Aleksi Kacmar growled through the satellite connection all the way to her cell phone in Pittsburgh. 

“Hang on a minute, Aleksi. What the fuck are you talking about? I did everything you asked me to do,” Beks argued, getting pissed off right back at him. 

“Then why my plans all sjeban?” Aleksi yelled. “You supposed to give me full write up on Brian Kinney, no? How you miss that he a pederu? Huh? This fuck up everything!”

“Slow the fuck down, Leks,” Beks ordered, unable to keep up with his rapid-fire pigeon English and randomly interspersed Croatian references. Her own Croatian was rusty - she’d picked up the language as a child from her grandmother, but rarely spoke it now, since the woman had died more than ten years before - and it didn’t help that Aleksi’s accent was heavy. “I gave you everything I had on Kinney. Besides, I thought that deal was already done?”

“Only first part done. We get him to agree to advertising is all. This just the start. How you say, a footstep?”

“You mean, a ‘foothold’?” she asked to clarify.

“Yes. This. A foothold. So we have base for future operations,” Kacmar continued. “But you screwed me up, Beks. Plan was to send my Laura to this Kinney. Get my girl in place. Then Laura can take over. You no tell me Kinney pedercina! This no work for us!” When Beks didn’t respond right away, it was clear that she didn’t understand, so Aleksi explained again. “He pederu! No like girls! Kinney jebe boys! Zajebao si me, Beks!”

Okay, she finally got it. Kinney was gay. She didn’t know how that would have fucked up her client’s plans, but at least she understood what the problem was now. “Look, Kacmar, you hired me to do a complete financial workup of the guy. Which I did. I got you everything available on the guy’s personal and business finances, down to the last penny in his bank accounts. If you wanted more, you should have said something.”

There followed a long string of cursing in Croatian that Beks didn’t think it necessary to translate exactly to know just how pissed off Kacmar was with her. But what the fuck did the scumbag want? How was she supposed to have known that Kinney’s sexual orientation was somehow pertinent to Kacmar’s plans? If he’d wanted that kind of depth, he should have told her when he hired her to investigate the guy. And he should have paid her a lot more too. Not that she was going to say any of that to Aleksi himself. She knew enough to know that Kacmar wasn’t just a simple foreign ‘businessman’ who’d been looking for an American advertising agency to handle his international marketing. She had done other work in the past for Kacmar, and for some of his friends as well, and she wasn’t proud of it. But a buck was a buck, and her low-rent, strip-mall-based law practice wasn’t exactly making her rich, so she had just done her job and tried not to ask too many questions. It wouldn’t do to get on this guy’s bad side, though, so some ass covering was definitely in order.

“Look, Aleksi, I didn’t know about Kinney being gay. It didn’t come up in my research. I was just looking at his finances,” she admitted without actually apologizing, because that would make her look weak, and looking weak was not something you wanted to do around Kacmar. “So, what do you want me to do now to fix things?”

In his broken English, with a lot of interruptions so she could ask clarifying questions, Beks eventually teased out the gist of the situation. It seemed like part of Kacmar’s plan had been to set this Kinney guy up with a female operative from Aleksi’s organization with the hope that she would be able to ingratiate herself into the guy’s life in a more permanent way. Sort of a ‘Red Sparrow’ kind of thing, she supposed. Beks didn’t want to know what the woman was supposed to have done after she wormed her way into Brian Kinney’s life - and presumably his bed too - but suffice it to say that Kacmar was not at all pleased to find out that Kinney’s sexual orientation had apparently fucked up that part of his plan. In the meantime, Aleksi wanted Beks to go back to her sources and find out more about Kinney in the hopes that Kacmar could reconfigure his plan. It didn’t sound like the Croatians were giving up on Kinney yet, poor guy. 

“Get me EVERYTHING on Kinney this time,” Aleksi ordered. “I will know what he eat for dinner, who he jebe, when he wipe his dupe. You understand me, Beks? I want ALL!”  

“I get it, Kasmar. I’ll put together a full dossier for you. As much as I can get,” Beks promised.

“Good. Ne zajebavaj ovaj put,” Aleksi snarled and she didn’t have to understand Croatian to know she was being threatened that if she fucked up again she would regret it. “By one week, da? Friday!”

“I’ll do my best,” was all she conceded. 

“You do better than best or I do for you too,” Kacmar warned, his voice sounding as cold and hollow as the steel barrel of a gun. “Also, find this Justin Taylor. The lopov who take my Laura’s tickets. I know he somewhere there in Pissburgh; airline tell me. He will pay for taking what is Aleksi’s.”

“Uh . . . You got any more on this Taylor kid than just a name? Taylor isn’t exactly an unusual surname here, Mr. Kacmar. I don’t know how fast I’ll be able to find him with only a name and nothing more,” Beks hedged. 

“I send you photo. You find so I can break his fingers for take my property.”

“If you tell your American lawyer that you’re planning to commit a crime, then not only will she be unable to continue working for you, Mr. Kacmar, but she could be compelled to testify against you in court. If it came to that,” she cautioned, receiving only a grunt from the other end of the phone call. “For now, I’m going to assume that was only a joke, right?”

“Of course,” Aleksi backtracked immediately. 

“Good. I’ll get you whatever I can by the end of the week, Mr. Kacmar,” she said and immediately hung up the phone. “Fuck me. Why did I ever take that loser’s call in the first place?” 

“Mmmnnn . . . Oh, yeah . . . Fuck, yes . . . Justin, yes . . .”  Brian moaned as he pulled the head of his cock through his fist one last time, giving it a delicious little twist right at the end, before erupting in pleasurable spurts of jizz that painted the tiles of his shower. “Damn.” 

He’d really needed that release after the scene that had played out just a little while before up in the hot tub. Normally he wouldn’t have gotten that hot and bothered just from giving another guy a hand job, but . . . The kid might be a fraud or a con man or maybe even an outright criminal - Brian didn’t know what to think yet - but whatever else he was, the guy had a damn beautiful dick. It was just right. The heft and the weight of it in Brian’s palm had felt perfect. And the rest of the kid’s body wasn’t bad either. The slim, slightly-defined muscles, trim waist, and soft curves were mouth-watering. Brian had wanted to bend him over the edge of the hot tub, lick every droplet of steamy water off that pale ivory skin, and then spear him like a shish kebab. But, since that wasn’t an option, at least for now, he’d been forced to take himself off to the shower for a lonely whack off before he’d totally lost control.

Happily relieved, Brian got out of the shower and toweled himself off. He was going to have to avoid another scene like that in the future. He didn’t think he could hold off from attacking his not-so-foreign guest a second time if he saw the kid in those ridiculously sexy little swim trunks again. And he’d already decided that it wasn’t wise to fuck Justin. At least not until he knew more about him and the mysterious reasons behind the kid’s appearance in Brian’s life. It was one thing to tease and goad the guy, but Brian didn’t want to go beyond that stage until he was sure Justin wasn’t up to some nefarious purposes. Of course, since he hadn’t yet come up with a way to pump Justin for the information he needed to suss out those purposes, it was beginning to look like it might be a long time before Brian would be relieving his Justin-induced erections any other way than by a solo workout in the shower. Which was a fucking shame, considering that dick he’d been fondling not that long ago.

Brian sighed and tossed his towel into the nearby hamper before striding out of the bathroom towards his closet. He hadn’t even made it all the way across the room, though, before he was sidetracked by the ringing of his phone. It was Lindsey’s ring tone - Mama Mia by Abba - so he knew he had to take the call. If he didn’t, Lindsey would just give him shit about how it could have been an emergency with Gus and ask him why he was always so irresponsible and then come up with some other reason why she was going to cancel his next visit with his son, etc. He didn’t need to hear the speech again. It was easier to just take her calls and pretend to listen to whatever she was prattling about.

“Hey, Lindz,” he answered, putting the call on speaker so he could set the phone on the dresser and continue getting dressed. 

“Thank goodness I got ahold of you, Brian.” Lindsey sounded out of breath and, for once, grateful to hear Brian’s voice. “I hate to do this last minute, but I have a HUGE favor to ask . . .”

“You’ve finally come to your senses and left Mel and you want me to pay for the divorce attorney?” Brian teased. “Done!”

“Stop, Brian!” Lindsey laughed in spite of herself. “No, you nut. Just the opposite, actually. Mel and I are doing a wedding this weekend.” When Brian sputtered as if he was choking on his own spit, she relented with a giggle. “Gotcha!”

“Fuck you, Lindz. Don’t scare me like that unless you want to give me a fucking heart attack and leave Gus fatherless.”

“You deserve it with all your teasing. But, no, it’s not our wedding; it’s for our friends, Trisha and Bet. Aaaaannnnd . . .” She drew the word out for dramatic emphasis. “That’s the reason I’m calling. The bachelorette party is tonight and our sitter just called and canceled on us. She got food poisoning from eating at a food cart pod last night and can’t make it.”

“And this is my problem because . . . ?” Brian questioned even though he’d already guessed the answer. 

“Because I thought you might enjoy the chance to spend some more time with your son?”

“More like, Debbie’s working tonight and you couldn’t find any other suckers to take the kid so that you and your husband can go get your rocks off to some slutty lesbo strip tease,” Brian surmised. 

“As opposed to slutty gay strip tease?”

“Got me,” Brian smiled at the fact that she knew him so well. “Well, it IS Saturday night and I do have a guest staying with me . . .”

“A guest? You have a guest? Staying at your house?” Lindsey sounded shocked, as if Brian had just announced he had grown a twat. “Since when does Brian Kinney have guests stay over? Other than the occasional trick who you forgot to kick out before you passed out, that is.”

“Ha, fucking, ha,” Brian replied, miffed that she didn’t think him capable of hosting a guest like any other adult. “Yes, I have a guest. And he’s not a trick. He’s . . .” How exactly did he explain Justin at that point? “He was sent here by one of my overseas clients. Since it seemed like he didn’t speak any English, I offered to let him stay with me.” There, that was simple enough and not a complete lie.

“Wow! Brian Kinney voluntarily inviting house guests over? That’s very adult of you, Peter,” Lindsey kidded him. “In that case, though, I don’t suppose you’d want to have Gus over . . .”

“I didn’t say that,” Brian rushed to interrupt before he lost out on the rare chance to have his son spend a few days with him. “I’m sure Youstin won’t mind if Gus joins us for the night.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to intrude on your work,” Lindsey hesitated. 

“You wouldn’t be. I wasn’t planning on working tonight anyway.”

“And this Youstin, he’s okay with kids being around? I mean, do you know anything about him?” Lindsey asked, being the perpetually over-cautious mother. 

“Fuck, Lindz. It’s not like I’m going to abandon Gus with the guy and leave them to their own devices all night. I’ll be here as well,” Brian insisted. “Besides, Youstin is something of an artist, it seems, so maybe he can help me and Gus with a project I’ve been planning.”

“A project?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we’re done,” Brian promised. “So, do I get to have the honor of bailing your asses out as the backup babysitter or what?”

Lindsey only hesitated a moment or two longer. He could tell she was desperate to go to her bachelorette thing, so she couldn’t afford to play hard to get. Brian really was excited to spend time with Gus, too, and she knew he would take whatever time she’d allow him with the boy. So, it wasn’t really a surprise when she graciously gave in and agreed to let Gus stay over with his father for the night. They quickly made arrangements to drop Gus off in a couple of hours and then ended the call. 

Brian spent the next half hour or so on the computer, preparing for Gus’s visit. When everything seemed ready, he decided he should probably go and explain to Justin about their overnight guest. Besides, he hadn’t seen the younger man since their hot tub adventure and was starting to wonder if he hadn’t scared his guest off for good. He first went up and knocked on the guest room door, but got no answer, and peeking his head inside proved the blond wasn’t hiding in his room. Next, Brian went back up to the roof, but he didn’t find the resident artist up there either. Finally, with no other options, Brian went all the way down to the lounge where he was happy to find his guest shooting pool. 

Justin was so absorbed in his task, he didn’t even notice Brian’s arrival. The guy had changed out of the skimpy swim trunks into some cutoff jeans shorts that were almost as revealing. The way he was stretched out over the red baise of the table, Brian got quite a show. The sight was distracting enough he almost missed when Justin potted the tricky bank shot he’d set up just so he could practice. The guy really was good at this game, he had to admit. Brian, though, was happy to just hide in the shadows, admiring not only the kid’s skill but also his plump posterior as the young man bent over the edge of the table to line up his cue for a second shot. 

“You know, with an ass like that, and those shorts, you could make a fortune hustling pool,” Brian spoke up after the kid had sunk three impossible shots in a row. “Guys would be so flustered they’d be chalking up their dicks instead of their sticks and ready to shoot all over your balls.”

Justin had startled at the sound of Brian’s voice, looking over his shoulder towards the doorway where Brian was standing, but since he’d still been procumbent, lying halfway across the table, having just made his last shot, he couldn’t do much more than lie there and be ogled in his awkward position. The fact that he was blushing so furiously that his face was almost as red as the pool table was proof, if he’d needed it, that the kid had understood Brian’s little joke perfectly. Brian had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing at how bad Justin was at this particular acting job. At least he made up for it by being absolutely adorable with all those fucking blushes. 

Brian, who’d shocked himself with that last thought - and his mental use of the word ‘adorable’ - quickly rushed to change topics, moving on to the subject that had sent him looking for his guest in the first place. "Hey, Youstin," Brian greeted him as he approached closer, “didn’t mean to scare you.” He waited until the kid could crawl off the pool table, adjust his shorts so all his pieces and parts were once again covered, and then put on his amiably blank mask. "I just wanted to let you know that we’re going to be having some company tonight." At Justin’s feigned look of confusion, Brian started again. Luckily he was prepared, having already looked up a few of the words in Croatian he would need to explain who Gus was, in order to make it look like he wanted to communicate in Youstin’s native language. "Moj sin, Gus," he started again, pulling out his phone in order to display a picture of Gus by way of demonstration, only to receive an even more confused and concerned look from the other man. 

"Vas sin? Kako?" Justin asked, with a very strange expression on his face. 

Brian looked up the words and laughed. Then, instead of looking up the words to answer, he picked up an empty glass off the bar and mimed jerking off into it. When Justin got what Brian was telling him, he nodded, although he still looked vaguely confused. 

“Yeah, it’s a long story,” Brian responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Trust me, I still don’t believe it myself sometimes.”

Justin, still pretending he didn’t understand anything, said only, "vas sin, da. Sjajno," while smiling his beautiful, sunshiney smile and nodding at the man.

Brian walked over to the rack on the wall where the rest of the pool equipment was waiting and selected a cue for himself. “But, since Gus won’t be here for at least another hour, how about we play a game or two?” He walked around the table till he was standing right in front of Justin and tapped the butt of his cue against the one that Justin was hiding behind, as if the inch-wide piece of wood could provide him cover. Hell, even soft, Justin was too wide to be able to cover his reaction to Brian comments. “Why don’t you show me what you can do with that stick between your legs, Sunshine?”

His words raised yet another vicious red blush and this time Brian didn’t bother holding back his laughter. He got such a kick out of teasing the kid when he knew Justin couldn’t respond. He didn’t care if the lesbianic word ‘adorable’ popped into his head again. He couldn’t argue with the sentiment. The kid really was fucking adorable in so many ways. And, the more time he spent around ‘Youstin’ the more convinced Brian was that the kid couldn’t possibly be some kind of grifter; nobody who was that bad an actor could ever pull off a real con. 

But, whatever Justin’s final objective might be, it didn’t mean that Brian couldn’t enjoy himself as long as the guy was staying with him. “Rack ‘em up, blond boy,” Brian ordered, pointing with his cue to the table, “and stand back while I show you how a real man plays with his balls.”