Chapter 9 - Mine Eye Hath Played The Painter.

With Youstin’s sketch for the wall mural in hand, they all went downstairs and used Brian’s computer to order the paint they’d need to create Gus’ masterpiece of ‘Bubbles and Smiles’. 

It took a while - Gus was even more particular than Justin about selecting just the right shades of blue and red - but Brian was happy to let his boys flex their creativity. Besides, by having Justin do the painting he was probably saving a mint; he was getting a custom-painted room for only the cost of the paint and the businessman in him considered that a win. When both Justin and Gus were satisfied with their order, Brian pushed the purchase button and was happy to note the paint would be available for pick up bright and early the next day, which worked perfectly with his plans.

Leaving the ‘kids’ to play on the computer - Brian had a design app on there that Justin seemed to know how to use and the boys were employing it to figure out exactly how to set up Gus’ furniture - Brian went back down to the jeep to bring up the one purchase they had brought back from the store with them. Brian wasn’t sure about the oversized bean bag chair Gus had selected for his room but, since he’d already promised Gus he could decorate however he wanted, it looked like they were getting a beanbag chair. 

Carrying the mammoth, six-foot wide, bright red, plush bag, along with the matching footstool bag, up to his son’s room, Brian dropped it with a whoosh. That thing was heavier than it looked. Gus, who’d trailed along from the main floor behind his dad, immediately plopped down in the middle of the huge bag, which looked like it was swallowing the small boy up. Brian had to concede that it looked like fun and at least the chair was well-made. Hopefully, it would hold up to the ravages of a four-year-old. 

Brian pulled Gus’ iPad out of the boy’s backpack and handed it over. “You can stay up here and watch your shows until I call you down for dinner, Sonny Boy.” 

“Thanks, Daddy,” Gus replied, already enraptured by some cartoon adventure or another. 

Leaving his son to entertain himself, Brian went back downstairs and, grabbing Justin’s hand as he passed the computer desk, he pulled the blond along with him in the direction of the kitchen.

“Vrijeme za kuhanje” Brian explained, having already looked the phrase up on his phone. 

Justin, who actually didn’t recognize that phrase, just followed along as he was dragged across the room. It was clear what Brian meant, though, when Brian steered him over to the fridge and waved his hand between that appliance and the stove. Justin smiled and immediately started getting things out to make a meal. He didn’t need to be able to converse for this. He was more than comfortable in any kitchen and loved to cook. This he could do in any language.

First he dug around in Brian’s well-stocked but seldom-opened cupboards and found a muffin pan that looked like it had never seen the inside of an oven. Next, Justin took the roll of pre-made crescent roll dough out of the fridge to let it warm up. Then he pulled out the fresh peppers, red onion, and parsley he’d forced Brian to buy at the store and set to chopping. His plan was to make Gus one of his own favorite treats from when he’d been a kid - Mini Pizza Cups. If he’d had time, he would have also made the pizza sauce from scratch but that would have taken more than an hour and he was too hungry to wait that long, so sauce from a jar would have to do this once. At least the peppers and other vegetables would help to make this a reasonably healthy meal while still being kid-friendly.

At first Brian just sat and admired the proceedings. It was clear that Justin knew what he was doing with a chef’s knife. But, after watching Justin bend over too many times while he was ‘looking’ for things, Brian couldn’t take it any longer. He went around the counter and stood directly behind the blond, pressing his own body closely against the smaller man’s back, while helping him reach for things he might need. In the process, Brian made sure that his groin repeatedly rubbed up against the younger man’s plump little bubble butt. It was exquisite torture which Brian was rather getting off on. And, to make matters even more intense, every time Justin would try to turn and look at him, Brian would drag his tongue over the blond’s earlobe or nip at it. 

Justin tried to ignore Brian, concentrating on cooking dinner, and hoping that his host would leave him alone so some of the blood in his body could return to his brain instead of it all pooling in his cock. If Brian wasn’t careful, Justin was going to end up so distracted that he’d mistakenly cut off some essential body part instead of mincing the onion he was working on. But, despite the ’help’, Justin eventually managed to assemble the pizza dough in the muffin cups, scoop in some sauce, add the cheese, veggies, and top it all off with some pepperoni slices. Of course, by that point Justin was so fucking horny that he barely remembered to turn the oven on before he basically gave up and let his body sag backwards against the warmth of Brian’s hard chest. Brian’s strong arms reached around him, took the muffin tray out of Justin’s hands mere seconds before he dropped it, and deposited their meal into the oven for the overwhelmed chef.

Once dinner was taken care of, Brian was hoping for some alone time with the attractive cook. He was incredibly turned on; who knew simply watching the confident way the younger man had moved around the kitchen, making himself at home and efficiently dealing with the meal prep, would have been made Brian so fucking hot? What was it about this kid, anyway? Brian didn’t remember ever before being this bothered by any other guy. Maybe it was the fact that Justin was still mostly off limits? 

Brian equated the situation to what he called the ‘Cookie Jar Syndrome’; if you tell a kid that he can’t have what’s in the cookie jar, that’s all he’ll be able to think about, but as soon as you give in and let the kid have a cookie, he’s off to find something else to do. Justin was like that forbidden cookie to him. He assumed that, once he could satisfy his appetite and get a bite out of that blond twinkie, he’d no longer be obsessing over him. But, in the meantime, he’d have to make do with another makeout session while they were waiting for dinner to be done. 

Unfortunately, right as he’d picked Justin up, hefting the blond high enough that his voluptuous ass was resting atop the marble of Brian’s countertop, the ringing of the damned doorbell interrupted him. 

With a whimper, Brian let his head drop so that it was resting against the blond’s shoulder. It wasn’t fair. Between Lindsey, Gus, the Pretentious Clerk at the furniture store, and everything else going on, he was getting seriously cock blocked this afternoon. But the repeated buzzing from the street door proved that whoever his visitor was, they weren’t leaving anytime soon. Actually, it sounded like whoever was buzzing was leaning on the damn buzzer with more than the usual amount of determination. Brian picked up his phone, tapping on the doorbell app to check who it was, and was definitely not pleased with what he saw. With a second tap he remotely opened the door, and mentally prepared himself for the imminent whining that he knew was about to happen.  

“Took you long enough to answer the fucking door,” was the first thing heard out of Michael Novotny as he emerged at the top of the stairs.

“Michael,” Brian greeted the new arrival icily, deliberately not moving away from where he was standing, his body positioned in the vee of Youstin’s thighs and his lips still wet from the last kiss he’d left on the delicious-looking, popsicle-pink lips. “Did you need something?”

“Do I need an excuse to see you these days, your highness?” Michael joked as he sauntered over to stand at the end of the kitchen island, giving Brian and his guest a disapproving look.

“I told you that, if I wanted to talk to you, I would call,” Brian pointed out, not even looking at Michael as he played with a long strand of Youstin’s hair.

“It’s been days, Brian, and you never called, so I came to you.”

“I just saw you last night, Mikey,” Brian corrected him while lifting his other hand to tip back the blond’s head in order to take another taste of the tempting twinkie. 

“I guess it just felt like longer. But, anyway, I want to go out tonight - Ben’s still at that teaching conference and I’ve got no reason to stay home - so let’s go already. It’ll be JUST you and me. Like old times,” Michael demanded, staring daggers at Youstin and wishing the interloper would disappear already.

“I can’t, Michael. I have Gus with me for a few days so I’m not going anywhere. At least not tonight. Besides, we’re working on a project that I expect will keep us busy the entire weekend.”

“You need your eyes checked, Brian. That’s not Gus, that’s just some blond whore that was sent to you by mistake,” Michael responded with a sneer for the blond in question.

Brian grabbed Youstin’s hand and sighed. Michael thought for a moment that his friend was about to erupt and, knowing Brian’s legendary temper, it might be a doozy of an eruption. But, after a moment or two of simply holding the younger man’s hand, it looked like Brian managed to calm himself down. Michael sighed himself - thankfully, it didn’t look like Brian was going to be throwing Michael down the stairs - but before Michael could get too relieved by the seeming reprieve, he saw Youstin squeeze Brian’s hand back while rubbing his thumb against Brian’s palm and Michael instantly saw red. What the fuck was this foreigner up to? Why was he acting like he had some claim on Brian? This was so fucked up . . . Michael was too upset by what he’d witnessed to really pay attention to what Brian was saying for a moment or two until he heard Brian saying his name.

“Gus is upstairs in his room, Michael, not that it's any of your business. And I don’t appreciate you calling my guest a ‘whore’. What Youstin is doing here, and the circumstances under which he arrived, aren’t your concern. I am perfectly capable of dealing with my own life and deciding who gets to be a part of it, without your input, Mikey,” Brian corrected, the edge of disdain clear in his voice. “I’m afraid you’re on your own tonight, Mikey. I’m busy. So how about you get the fuck out of here and let me get back to my dinner and my guest, huh?” Brian dismissed his old friend without even looking at him. 

“But Brian . . .” Michael whined.

“No, Mikey. I SAID I was busy.” Michael made a little sound of protest but Brian was done humoring him. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you get, Michael?” 

“You can’t honestly tell me you’d rather stay home on a Saturday night with HIM, Brian?” Michael whined again, finally earning enough of Brian’s attention that he broke off playing with Youstin’s fingers and turned to dart a scathing look at his friend.

“Enough, Michael. I’m not going out tonight and that’s final,” Brian stood firm, staring down the much shorter brunet with an iron glare. “And, please, DO NOT call me in an hour to ask again. Like I said, I’m going to be busy for the next several days. I promise, if and when I need to speak to you, I will call you. Now, skedaddle off to wherever you were going and let me get back to the appetizer that I was planning to partake of while we’re waiting for dinner to be ready,” Brian ordered, already turning his attention back to Youstin’s waiting lips and totally ignoring Michael’s jealous pouting.

With one last furious glare, aimed Youstin’s way, Michael turned and stomped down the stairs. As he let himself out the street door of the firehouse he was muttering to himself about how pathetic Brian was acting. It was almost like he actually cared about the skanky blond. Which made no sense because the Brian Kinney Michael knew would have just fucked the kid and then sent him on his way. 

Michael didn’t understand why Brian was acting so different around this particular foreign twink. Youstin didn’t seem like anything special to him. He definitely wasn’t someone the old Brian Kinney would have wasted more than a night on. Michael didn’t get why Youstin hadn’t been kicked to the curb before dawn just like every other trick Brian had ever shown any interest in. 

But, regardless of the reason, Michael was definitely not a fan and he wasn’t going to put up with much more of this kid. If Brian wasn’t over him by the time Gus went home, Michael would have to figure out some other way to get rid of the little golddigger. If Brian couldn’t see what this unwanted visitor was doing, it would be up to Michael to protect him, both from the blond and from himself.

Justin peeled off the dirty, sweaty t-shirt he’d spent the day painting in and tossed it in the hamper. He was absolutely beat, but in a good way that meant he’d accomplished a lot. Not that there wasn’t still a lot of work to be done to finish what they’d planned for Gus’ room. 

Starting the night before, after they’d devoured the pizza cups he’d made for dinner - something that Gus declared was the bestest meal he’d ever eaten - Justin and Brian had given the old brick walls that lined two sides of Gus’ room a thorough scrub down with soap and water. The goal was to make sure there wasn’t any dirt or dust on the wall that would prevent the new paint from sticking. Gus had helped out for the first twenty minutes or so before the little tyke had given out on them. It had already been a pretty eventful day for the boy and he was more than ready to head to bed. Brian had set him up on a blow up mattress in his room before coming back upstairs to help Justin finish the scrubbing job. That had taken the rest of the evening, meaning that they hadn’t got around to finishing the make out session they’d started before dinner; the one which had been interrupted by Brian’s nosy friend. Although it had probably been for the best since Justin had been almost as bushed as Gus by the time they’d finished up for the night. 

First thing Sunday morning, Brian had rousted both Justin and Gus and taken them out to breakfast at the same bakery they’d eaten at the day before. Then he led his merry band of room decorators off to pick up the paint they’d ordered. It was a good thing Justin was there, because Brian had no clue what kind of supplies were needed for the kind of job they were about to tackle. He made sure to guide his host towards the durable, synthetic-bristle brushes, which were the only kind that would work on rough brick, as well as pointing out the right kind of primer to use on such a porous surface. Between all that, the paint itself, and the usual supplies like painting tarps and tape and such, it was a rather expensive shopping trip. Justin was glad he wasn’t paying for all that shit.

Back at the firehouse, they’d dived right into the prep work, allowing Gus to be in charge of the painting tarps while Brian and Justin climbed around on ladders and taped off the ceiling and side walls. Next, they’d all put on some of Brian’s oldest t-shirts and started slathering the primer all over the wall. At Justin’s direction, they were using a clear primer that would double as a sealant so that the surface would work better with the interior latex paint they’d be using for the mural. Gus loved that part of the job and happily went at it with his paintbrush, getting almost as much of the primer on himself and the floor as on the walls. It was a good thing it was clear or Brian would have been cleaning up a lot more mess. 

While they were waiting for the primer to dry, and Gus was taking a nap, Justin spent some time refining his mural design. He was actually enjoying that part of the project quite a lot. Gus had been hilarious when they’d been working out the design, directing Justin about exactly how he wanted the bubbles and smiles to look. But, all-in-all, Justin thought the design they’d come up with would look pretty amazing. Gus was a great kid. And, for a not-quite-five-year-old, he had a fairly good eye for color. Justin was really looking forward to seeing what the boy could do when they got to the part where they were actually painting the wall; he’d decided on a way to set up a grid network with the tape so that he could let Gus paint little pieces of the wall himself without messing up the overall design too much. Justin hoped it would work because Gus was super excited to paint his own mural.

After about four hours, when the primer was completely dry, Justin took the fat carpenter’s pencil he’d directed Brian to purchase at the paint store and began to transfer the design he’d come up with from his sketchbook onto the wall. Gus acted as project supervisor, ordering Justin to make whatever changes he deemed appropriate, until Brian realized that the painting job would never get done at that rate. So, to hurry things along, he took Gus off on an ice cream run, leaving the artist to finish that part of the job in peace. After that, it went much more quickly. Justin had the design marked on the wall by the time the ice cream contingent returned with a double-scoop, chocolate-dipped cone for their favorite blond artist. 

“Sweets for that tight, sweet ass of yours,” Brian whispered as he purposely tapped the leaking tip of the ice cream cone against Justin’s nose. 

Because he couldn’t say anything in retort, Justin simply accepted the ice cream and used his sleeve to wipe away the mess on his nose. He hoped the cold treat would help quench the fiery blush he couldn’t help. And, while he licked at his cone - watching Brian and Gus goofing around together as they admired the sketch on the wall - Justin silently vowed to find some way to get back at Brian, even though he might not be able to do it verbally. 

When the rough sketch of the design was marked on the wall, Justin used the painter’s tape to create his grid on the wall and made the same grid on a full-color print-out of the design. This would allow them to properly transfer each design block from the paper to the wall without stepping on each other’s toes. He figured Gus and Brian could do the basic background colors and shapes, then he would come along behind them to refine the images, and finally, he’d add the more detailed finishing touches in the morning after the rest of the paint had dried. He just hoped this plan would work as well in practice as it did in his head. 

After all the ice cream was consumed, Justin got his painting crew started on the real work. Gus was allowed to slather turquoise paint all over most of the bottom left grid squares. Justin would follow after him later, delineating the ‘bubbles’ with black paint to create oblong and semi-circular shapes, and highlighting the bubbles with splotches of darker or lighter blue and white accents to create a more 3D look. Brian was given the top-most grid squares to work on, as these were not only too high for the others to reach but also required a little more finesse in the application of the base colors. Justin would use a ladder to climb up and do the finer details on those bubbles too. Meanwhile, Justin himself started on the bright yellow ‘Smiles’ sections that would later be surrounded by even more blue bubbles. 

They were all having fun while they were painting. Brian and Gus were joking and laughing pretty much the whole time. Gus was being a bossy little tyke, ordering his father around, but that only made Brian laugh more as he followed directions and made one bubble bigger and another brick more red or blue. Justin couldn’t join in on the joking without revealing his secret, but the smiles aimed his way by both father and son made him feel included nonetheless. 

Justin felt privileged to be a part of this project and share, if only at a distance, in the love and fun being created that afternoon. Brian and Gus were so cute together. He couldn’t imagine his own father ever doing something so messy and fun with him; not even back before Craig had discovered his son was gay. Brian, on the other hand, was such a great father in so many ways. And Gus was pretty much the sweetest, most creative, and most enjoyable child Justin has ever met. Justin had only known the boy a little more than a day and he was already in love with the precocious tyke.

Even so, Gus’s painting focus only lasted about an hour, which Justin actually considered quite good for a four year old. After that, Brian was mostly too busy minding the cranky and tired preschooler to help much with the painting. Luckily, Brian ordered Thai for dinner that night so Justin could keep on with the painting rather than stopping to make food. After Gus was finally deposited in bed for the night, Brian came back upstairs and helped out for an hour or so more. All in all, Justin thought, the simple mural went up fairly quickly. Except for some final touch ups that Justin could do the following morning, they were done by about ten that night and Justin was pleased with the results. 

“I admit that I had no idea how you could paint ‘bubbles and smiles and happy stuff’, but you did it, Sunshine,” Brian praised, standing back to look at the wall with an appreciative eye. “This is amazing.”

Justin turned to face Brian, beaming at the praise he wasn’t supposed to understand. The admiration he saw in Brian’s face made him prouder than he’d felt in a long, long time. Instead of the derision and disregard he’d felt from his own parents when he tried to tell them he would rather be an artist than a business major, Brian was giving him approval and praise for his artwork. That meant so much to Justin. But, because he couldn’t reveal that he understood Brian’s words, he wasn’t able to even respond to the praise with a ‘thank you’. If he hadn’t been second guessing his decision to deceive Brian before, he certainly was then. 

“Dobro, da?” Justin asked, the only Croatian he could think of without translation help that applied in the moment. “Good?”

“VERY good, Youstin,” Brian had agreed, leaning down to leave a kiss on the artist’s cheek before bending to pick up the brushes and an empty can of paint in order to start the clean up process. 

Which is why, after helping Brian with the rest of the clean up, Justin was still feeling so conflicted as he crawled into the shower following his long day of painting. He’d had so much fun with Brian and Gus that day, which only made him feel even more guilty about all the secrets he was keeping. If it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to protect the man who was unknowingly offering him a safe haven, he would have immediately come clean and spilled everything. But, he supposed, he’d have to keep silent for at least a while longer. No matter how hard that was proving to be.