Chapter 8 - Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

It turned out that Brian and Justin were fairly evenly matched when it came to billiards. 

Justin won the first game with a ridiculous shot where he managed to chip the cue ball over the top of one of Brian’s stripes in order to pot his next solid. Brian was too much in awe over that shot to recover after that. In the second game, Brian took a smarter approach, playing a more defensive game and managing to squeak out a win by never leaving his opponent any clear shots. The next time Justin broke, he ran the table without ever giving Brian even one shot, a feat that Brian admitted he hadn’t seen outside of the professional pool circuit. 

“Damn, Youstin,” Brian said with a tongue in cheek smile. “Where the fuck did you learn to play like that?”

Forgetting himself, Justin was about to answer, when he was saved at the last minute by the sound of the buzzer at the street-level entry door. 

“DADDDEEEEE!” The high-pitched, drawn-out squeal was followed by the slap-slap-slap of a pair of tennis shoes hitting the imported black marble tiles of the entryway hall and then, only seconds later, an adorable gamin face appeared at the open door into the den. “Daddy! I’m here! I get to stay wiv you all night!”

“Sonny Boy!” Brian tossed aside his pool cue and totted over to meet his offspring halfway across the room, scooping up the boy in a twirling hug. 

“You have no idea how excited he is,” an elegant blonde woman following on the boy’s heels declared. When she reached Brian’s side she leaned in and left a lipstick-smeared coral-pink kiss on his cheek. “I hope you’re ready for this, Brian. He’s going to be a handful, I’m afraid.”

“Gus and I will be fine, Lindz,” Brian declared, finally setting the boy down on his own two feet. “We’re going to be too busy to get into trouble this afternoon.” Looking down at the face smiling adoringly up at him he added, “We have a special project we’ll be working on this weekend . . .”

“Again with this mysterious ‘project’? What ARE you up to, Brian?” the blonde woman questioned, raising a well-groomed eyebrow to punctuate her query. 

“It’s a surprise,” was all Brian would say. Then he turned and beckoned Justin closer. “Hey, Gus. I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Youstin. He just arrived yesterday from Croatia. That’s a country clear on the other side of the world. Can you say ‘hi’?”

Gus, like all four year olds, became instantly shy the moment he realized there was a stranger nearby whom he was supposed to address. The little carbon copy of Brian Kinney pivoted and hid his face against his father’s pant leg. Brian affectionately ruffled the child’s hair, giving his guest an apologetic smile. 

“Hello, Youstin,” the mother stepped up and greeted the young blond man in her son’s place. “I’m Lindsey Peterson. Gus’ mother. Welcome to Pittsburgh.”

“Zdravo,” Justin replied, accepting the hand the woman held out to him. “Uh . . . Hello.” 

In his fake accent the word sounded more like ‘halo’. Brian had to turn away so that his smile didn’t give away how humorous he found the kid’s acting. Luckily, he had Gus to serve as a distraction. He hefted the child up off the ground, flipped the small body upside down while zooming Gus around in circles, and then flipped him again with a toss in the air so that the giggling boy landed on his father’s shoulders. 

Justin smiled. Watching the interaction between the two Kinneys increased his admiration for the man who so obviously loved his son. If he hadn’t been attracted to Brian before, he certainly would have been after watching the big and little Kinney boys goofing around like that. They were so sweet together. He hoped that Brian would let him help with whatever this mysterious project was so he’d have an excuse to spend more time with both the father and the adorable little boy. 

Lindsey, who was standing next to Justin, equally entranced by the charming sight, turned towards Brian’s guest as if she was about to comment. Justin had a moment of panic, unsure how he was supposed to respond when he couldn’t reveal that he understood what she was saying. Thankfully, Lindsey’s phone rang before she could try to start a conversation with the blond. 

“Lindz, are you still with the asshole?” Mel asked.

“Yes, Mel, I’m still with Brian, why?” Lindsey answered, annoyed that Mel continued to call him that, no matter what the man did for them.

“Trisha just called and asked if we could stay the whole weekend. The hotel where they’re having the bachelorette party is comping them a second room and they’re offering it to us for free. So, do you think you could ask Brian, if he can keep his son for a few more days?” Mel asked.

“Yes, I’ll ask Brian if he will please keep his son for a few more days,” Lindsey answered.

Brian, who had heard the conversation from both sides since Mel was very loud on the phone, had already started rearranging his schedule in his head. His assistant Cynthia was probably gonna have his balls for messing up Monday’s schedule, but he’d deal with it. He knew he had to seize any opportunity he got to spend time with his son; the munchers were often fickle when it came to his parenting time so he had to take what he could get when he could get it. 

Once Lindsey hung up the phone she turned to a smirking Brian. “Well, I guess you heard all that. Can you do it?” Lindsey asked.

“Yes, of course I can do it; I own the company. And yes, I will do it, because I want to spend time with my son. But next time, when I ask to see him or take him at a time that I choose, hopefully you’ll still remember that he’s my son then too.”

“I will, Brian. And thank you.” Lindsey squeezed Brian’s arm affectionately, offering a simpering little smile by way of charming away his prickliness. 

It took a few more minutes to make the necessary arrangements before they got rid of Lindsey and then Brian bustled them all into the car. Gus, who’d gotten over his shyness around Justin already, kept up a steady stream of questions and comments aimed at his father, allowing Justin to simply sit there and say nothing. Meanwhile, Brian got on the freeway and drove them clear out to the suburbs, ending up at a high-end shopping mall that, incidentally, wasn’t far from Justin’s parents’ neighborhood in Edgeworth. 

When Brian pulled the car up in front of the Rafa Kids store, Justin had to smile; his mother used to take him window shopping at this store back when he was younger. Jennifer Taylor had always admired the sleek, modern lines of the furniture they sold, although she’d never bought anything there, her practical nature winning out. She’d said that, while the furniture was lovely, it was far too overpriced. She’d never pay that much money for what amounted to no more than IKEA for children. It seemed, though, that Brian had no such scruples. 

“Come on, Gus. Time to pick out the furniture you want for your bedroom!” Brian announced, lifting the kid out of the Jeep’s back seat. 

“YAAAAAAAYYYY!” Gus screeched gleefully, grabbing hold of his father’s hand and tugging at him to get Brian to walk faster. 

Justin merely smiled at how adorable the two were together and followed behind without comment. 

Inside the store, they were surrounded by a large expanse filled with nice quality, well-designed, kid-friendly furniture and accessories. All the display furniture was made out of blond wood and had ‘Swedish Modern’ lines. Justin didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t what he’d choose for himself. It was too sparse and minimalist. But he could already tell from the man’s expression that Brian had fallen in love with the store and everything it contained the second they walked through the doors. 

“May I assist you, Sir,” the clerk who approached them asked, his British accent screaming ‘pretentious asshole’. 

“Yes, please,” Brian seemed gratified by the prompt service. “I need to look at bedroom furniture for my son.”

The clerk, momentarily confused, looked first at Justin and then down at Gus, like he wasn’t sure which boy was the son in question. Justin covered the laugh he couldn’t stifle with a cough and looked away. Brian gave the blond a sideways look, telepathically ordering him to shut the fuck up, before turning back to the clerk with a frown.

“My son,” he put a hand on Gus’ shoulder to direct the man’s attention in the correct direction, “and I are decorating his room at my house for when he comes to visit. He needs a bed and a dresser and anything else you think appropriate.”

“Very good, Sir,” Pretentious Clerk responded. “Right this way, please.” The wannabe Brit smiled obsequiously at Brian, silently pleased that he hadn’t lost the sale over his apparent gaffe.

Pretentious Clerk started to lead the way to the far side of the showroom where all the bedroom displays were set up, making his standard sales pitch about the products they passed. Gus, however, got distracted along the way by the more entertaining children’s play sets that were situated right in the middle of the store. Before Brian could stop him, Gus was climbing up the steps of the nearest slide and swooshing down the metal shoot with a joyous, childlike squeal. Mr. Pretentious paused, trying not to let the customer notice his annoyance at the child who was distracting his father and interrupting a possible sale. Justin covered his mouth with a hand to stifle the giggles that wanted to come out at the conceited fool’s obvious irritation. Luckily for Pretentious Clerk, Brian wasn’t paying any attention to him and therefore missed the dirty look the man had shot Gus’ way. 

“Gus! Get off there, Sonny Boy. We’re here to look at bedroom furniture, not playground equipment,” Brian told Gus, trying to grab the little urchin as the preschooler zoomed out of his father’s grasp. “When we’re done finding you a bed, we can come back and I’ll help you pick out some play things for your room.”

“NO! I don’t want a bed. I want a slide,” Gus insisted, climbing back up the ladder of the little playset and then giggling as his well-padded butt went down the slide again.

“We are not here to buy a slide, Gus,” Brian insisted. 

However, Brian’s son was just as opinionated as his father and wasn’t at all interested in boring old bedroom furniture. The boy had already skipped over to another playset which offered not only a slide but also a pole that he could slide down like a fireman and a secret chamber underneath the slide that he could crawl into through a hole in the side. Brian tried to catch the tyke when he hit the ground at the bottom of the pole, but Gus somehow managed to squirm out of his grip and dove through the hole into the base of the playset where Brian couldn’t reach him. Gus apparently thought this was hilarious and was laughing so hard at his dad that you could practically feel the glee seeping out through the little windows and holes of the structure. 

“Come on, Gus. We don’t have time for this,” Brian insisted. 

“I wanna slide, Daddy. Not some boring old bed.”

“You can’t sleep on a slide, Sonny Boy.”

“But I want one!”

Brian looked around as if seeking help, only to find both Justin and the Pretentious Clerk quietly laughing at the situation. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He huffed angrily at the fact that his orderly shopping trip was being tripped up by a not-quite-five-year-old. And then he came to the realization that he wasn’t going to win this time and caved like a building under a demolition order.

“Fine. We will buy the slide.” Brian capitulated. “But you still need a bed too, okay? So, come out of there and help me pick a bed or you’ll be getting nothing and we’ll just go home right now.”

Taking the win, Gus happily complied with his father’s request, crawling out of his hidey-hole and heading over towards the bedroom sets, looking once again like a perfect angel rather than the normal, bratty preschooler he’d just proven himself to be. Justin couldn’t help it; he burst out into loud, gut-busting laughter and had to sit down on the closest chair before he collapsed. Brian shot his visitor a withering look, flashing him the finger just to underscore his point, and then followed behind his son and the clerk. 

“Damn, these two are fucking adorable,” Justin murmured to himself when he was sure Brian was far enough away that he wouldn’t be heard. “I’m not sure which one is more stubborn - Gus or his father - but it’s pretty clear who won this round. Not that I’d be able to say no to that precocious little monster either. It’s a good thing he’s so cute . . .” And, still laughing under his breath, he followed behind the rest of them to look at beds.

Gus quickly saw what he wanted and picked out a bunk bed set in gray and blond. The top bed had a built-in ladder and the bottom bed was on wheels so it could be pulled out and moved around the room but would take up less space when it was tucked away. They found a matching gray and blond dresser, toy rack/bookcase, and a desk with a chair. Once that was finished, Gus dragged Brian back to the playsets and pointed out which slide he wanted for his room. Thank goodness the room Brian had set aside for Gus was fairly large or there was no way they could have fit all this in there. Brian headed up to the front of the store and arranged for delivery and set-up, then paid the bill without even flinching. Justin shook his head, unable to stifle his reaction at the amount Brian had spent in less than thirty minutes. 

On the way back to the firehouse they stopped off at the grocery store so Brian could stock up on the kind of food that a preschooler would eat. Justin enjoyed that part of the shopping trip immensely; he loved to cook and was actually thrilled with the idea of getting to use Brian’s amazing kitchen. So, while Brian and Gus were picking out a selection of Mac & Cheese, Lunchables, graham cracker animals, and ice cream, Justin was loading the cart up with all the ingredients he’d need to cook real meals for the three of them for the duration of the child’s visit. When Brian came back and saw how much shit the blond had accumulated in the cart he did a double take but, other than giving his guest an inquisitive look, which Justin answered with a nod, he didn’t voice any objection. They ended up leaving the store with more than seven heaping bags full of supplies and more than enough food to keep them fed for the rest of the week. 

The rest of the drive back to the firehouse was spent in a discussion about how Gus wanted his room painted. Brian was trying to prompt his son to think about decorating schemes and paint and all sorts of things that Gus clearly didn’t understand. Brian was indulgent enough, though, to let the kid gush about all sorts of wild ideas. In the end, Gus told his father he wanted bubbles, smiles, and happy stuff on his walls. 

“Bubbles, smiles, and happy stuff?” Brian sighed. “I’m not sure how to do that, exactly, Sonny Boy, but we can try.” If he hadn’t been certain that his very quiet houseguest was paying close attention, and working out exactly what would be perfect for the walls in the boy’s room, he would have put up more of a fight.

Once they were back at the firehouse, Gus darted off while Brian was still unloading the mounds of groceries, announcing that he wanted to walk around his room and think about his new stuff. Brian only had time to yell after him not to run on the stairs before the child had disappeared. The sound of feet galloping up the staircase proved that he’d ignored his father’s warning. 

“Shit,” Brian grumbled, trying to shift two bags of groceries so he could grab a third without the head of lettuce in the last bag rolling out on the ground. “Hey, Sunshine? Can you go keep an eye on Gus for me? I’ll be up in a bit after I put all this crap away.” He made a jerking motion with his chin, pointing towards the stairs, so that ‘Youstin’ would have understood his request even if he hadn’t known what the words meant. 

Justin nodded his agreement and was off after Gus without a word. He also ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and managed to make it to the third floor just a few paces behind the child. After stopping in to retrieve his sketch pad out of the guest room, he followed Gus into the other top floor room and sat down on the floor just inside the door. Gus skipped around the room, one hand trailing along the bricks, circling the large empty space five or six times. Meanwhile, the visiting artist opened up his drawing pad and started to sketch out a design for the back wall of Gus’ room. Gus eventually gave up running in circles and pulled two small toy cars out of his jacket pocket, which he began to roll around on the floor, making appropriate car zooming and crashing noises as he pretended to make the vehicles do all sorts of tricks. 

Totally into his drawing, Justin soon forgot that Gus was close by. He had a vision of exactly how he could make bubbles and smiles appear on Gus’ wall. He hadn’t ever done a mural like this, but the idea enchanted him, so it was easy to get lost in his artwork.

“That boy is so lucky to have someone love him so much,” Justin commented in English, not even realizing he was speaking out loud as his pencil flew over the sketch pad. “I can’t imagine Craig ever letting me buy a slide for my room, let alone offer to paint it however I wanted.” He didn’t look up until a few moments later when Gus tapped Justin on the knee. 

Startled, Justin looked into the bright hazel eyes regarding him closely. “How come when you say stuff to Daddy you talk funny, but when he’s not here you talk right?” Gus asked.

“Um . . . Um . . . Well, Gus, it’s kind of hard to explain. See, your daddy doesn’t know that I speak English - that’s the language we’re speaking right now - and I can’t tell him that I know English right now because there’s a lot of complicated grown up stuff going on. But I do want to tell him. Soon,” Justin tried to explain to the small boy.

“Okay . . . But you gotta promise to tell him real soon cuz it’s not nice to not tell the truth,” Gus commented with a disapproving frown.

“I promise, Gus. I’ll tell him as soon as I figure out how to do it without anyone getting hurt. But, in the meantime, can you help me out? Can you keep my secret and not tell your dad about me speaking to you?”

Gus looked conflicted for a minute or two but when Justin smiled at him he easily relented. “Okay. I won’t tell him. But only because you make my daddy smile bigger than anyone, ever, and I like seeing him be happy.”

Justin smiled and hugged the adorable little boy. Then Gus climbed up in the artist’s lap and pointed to the things he liked in Justin’s drawing. Which is how Brian found them when he came upstairs a few minutes later; huddled together, pointing, and giggling at the pictures Justin was working on. Brian just watched the two of them for a few minutes, happily surprised that Gus seemed so comfortable with Justin, since the boy was usually wary around new people. 

Gus was the first to notice his father standing there. “Look, Daddy, You-sin is drawin’ pictures to paint on my walls. Isn’t they great?” Gus asked excitedly.

Brian came over and looked down at what Justin had drawn for Gus’ room. The mural the two had designed was really good. Somehow the blond had managed to incorporate Gus’ bubbles and smiles and happy stuff all together into a comprehensive whole. Brian approved. 

“How did he know what to draw for you, Gus?” Brian asked, wondering if Justin had spoken to the boy in English.

“He did panting-mine with his hands and told his phone to talk to me,” Gus answered, looking at Brian like he was mentally challenged.  

“Panting-mine?” Brian asked, confused.

“Like this, Daddy,” Gus answered, pantomiming drinking water.

“Oh, you mean pantomime, Gus,” Brian clarified.

“That’s what I said, Daddy,” the boy answered, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his father.

“Well, if we are going to get this painted before the furniture comes in two days, we better get the paint bought so we can pick it up first thing in the morning,” Brian declared before looking up something on his phone and then having it translated for Justin - while showing him the screen with the English version - in order to ask him if he knew how much paint they would need.

“Da,” said Justin after he read the message - and the unnecessary translation - on Brian’s phone. “I make.”

Brian looked at his guest and mumbled, just loud enough that only Justin heard him, “Yeah, you make. You make me hard too, but since Gus is here there’s not much either of us can do about that, is there, Sunshine? If you can hold out till after he goes to bed, though, we’ll see what else you can ‘make’ happen then.” Which had the blond once again trying not to blush at his host’s blatantly sexual comment.