It had been a month since I last heard from Brian.

After quitting to work for Steven, I took Michael up for re-branding Rage. We were still brainstorming for the first new issue of the sequel, but none of our ideas led to an eventual plot that would catch the audience's attention.

I was in the middle of the bed, looking over the old issues of Rage, I had pulled from Mom's attic. We had left it to a point where anything could happen. Rage and JT were getting married, which was something alien back in the day. Now it was a reality.

Michael had found his old notes on possible future scenarios, but I didn't want to bring a villain from the first new issue.

So far we had three main ideas: villain disrupting their serenity, JT and Rage still going strong and being happy, or them having been driven apart by unknown events.

I hated all the ideas.

I needed a break from all the thinking, because I could feel my brain hurting.

My salvation came from a new email. When I first noticed there was an unread email, I almost shut the laptop, fearing it was Michael with more silly ideas. But fearfully, I clicked on the tab, and gasped when I saw the email address and subject.

B-Kinney (bkinney@gmail.com)  
Subject: Hello Painter Boy

I clicked on the subject line, opening the email.

From: B-Kinney
To: Justin Taylor
Date: March 29

Hello Justin!

It's been insane around here. I bet you already know the domino that followed my speech that day. I'm slowly losing my mind.

I finally had a few days off and spent them locked in Lindsay's house. But I got to stay with my little man, so that's a plus.

How are you? I miss our constant message exchanging.

Did you find another agent? Are you busy working?

Let me know.

Brian

I smiled at seeing his email, and I had to read it three times before I clicked the reply button.

From: Justin Taylor
To: B-Kinney
Date: March 29

Brian!!!

I guess I'm at advantage for seeing you often on the TV or on the internet. I can tell you're tired. It must be tough to get everything ready for such a big deal.

I'm glad to hear you got to spend some time with your son. I bet he missed you a lot.

As for me…not much to say. No, I haven't tried finding a new agent. I've done one small commission for an old client, who contacted me directly.

Michael gave me an idea about reviving a comic book we had worked on together when I was in college. Rage. Not sure if you heard of it, or even if comic books are your thing.

If by asking whether I'm free or not, you want to send one of your goonies to get me, my answer is YES, PLEASE! Rescue me from my own head.

Besides, I miss you like crazy. There. I wrote it. All shreds of dignity gone.

Justin

I hit refresh for five minutes straight with no remorse after sending that email.

From: B-Kinney
To: Justin Taylor
Date: March 29

Hearing you are free is all I wanted to know.

How soon can you get ready? I have a surprise for you.

Brian

From: Justin Taylor
To: B-Kinney
Date: March 29

In less than an hour...exactly the amount of time your men need to get here.

Justin

I sent the email, then jumped out of the bed. I pulled my empty travel bag from under the bed, and was headed to the closet when the doorbell rang.

“Not now,” I moaned in protest. I wasn't ready for any of my friends.

I rushed downstairs, unlocking the door and pulling it open. I gasped, jumping up, clapping, then throwing myself at Brian.

He was fighting amusement, but I blamed my behavior on how much I had missed him.

“This is the best surprise, Brian!” I kissed him hungrily, still hugging him. I was afraid to let go.

He walked us backwards into my condo, shutting the door with his foot.

Clothes flew in all directions, and we christened the entry hallway. Brian fucked me like I was the last drop of water in the desert, but I was right there, meeting him thrust for thrust. Our mouths clashed, muffling the way we cried out each other’s names.

“Never again for so long,” I gasped later as we slid down the wall.

“If you agree to my suggestion, you'll get sick of me soon,” he said quietly.

“I remember you mentioning me moving in. I'm still saying you're crazy.”

Brian searched in his abandoned pants, coming out with a rectangular something. “I believe you don't have a passport, so I pulled in some strings…and with a little help from your friends…Voila!”

I took the passport from him with shaky hands. “You…Brian! Seriously?”

“You're welcome. Let me help you pack. I'm going to show you the world.”

“Taking a break from being the President? Is that a thing?” I laughed uneasily.

“I've got about five to six weeks of traveling ahead of me. I'd go crazy without you. Please come with me.”

“As what? Brian…Don't make any hasty decisions. Think with your brain, not your heart, or worse, your dick. I'll still be here when you come back.”

“Justin, this past month has been hell. Not being able to talk to you, misplacing the paper I wrote your email on, virtually no time to steal Drew's phone and call Emmett to get you on the line…You have no idea how I felt.” It was then when I realized that seeing Brian so vulnerable and open and almost desperate meant only one thing – I wasn't the only one falling.

“What am I packing?” I snatched my boxers on.

“A few changes of clothes. We're buying on the road.”

“Cool. I got myself a sugar daddy.”

Brian slapped my ass, as he followed me upstairs. “I'm your sugar POTUS.”

I burst out laughing, headed to my closet. I was almost done when Brian cleared his throat.

I turned to see him looking through one of the issues on the bed. For unknown reasons, I was embarrassed knowing he was looking at something I had done when I was nineteen.

“This is graphic and raw and…the reality. I like the technique and the coloring,” he commented, not looking up from the issue in his hand.

“Uh, thanks?”

When he finally met my eyes, he raised a brow. “This is the Rage you've been talking about?”

“Yeah. Forget that. I'm done.”

Brian collected all the issues from the bed, tucking them under his arm, then he took my hand. “Light reading during the plane ride across the ocean.”

I made sure all appliances were unplugged, the knobs of the faucets were closed, the stove was off, then I locked three times, and was ready for this new adventure.

Outside, Ben was leaning against the hood of the Caddy. He held his hand up, stopping us before we could step out of the building.

“Shit.” Brian tugged the hood over his head, scowling at me, before leading me out.

Sure enough, there was a large group of people coming our way.

I allowed Brian to get in the car first, while I handed Ben my bags to stack in the trunk. When I joined Brian, he had the hood down and was reading the first issue of Rage.

It wasn't that I was ashamed, but that was a huge part of my life. A part of my past no one knew about, except my closest friends.

I pulled my phone out, but stopped typing Emmett a message.

“Does Emmett know about this? I was about to text him, but…”

“He's aware we're leaving. He made plans with Drew to meet when we visit Paris. Always the romantic.” Brian rolled his eyes.

“I see.”

I focused on my phone, typing to Emmett, then Daphne, and lastly to Michael. He would scalp me when he found out I was leaving when we were working on Rage.

“This is a horrible story,” Brian said after some time. “How the hell did you come up with this morbid scenario?”

“Michael wrote the lines. I tweaked with them only. All the drawings are mine,” I explained, feeling slightly hurt at him saying the story was horrible.

“Then Michael has a twisted mind,” Brian concluded, ignoring the way Ben glared at him in the rearview mirror.

“It’s based on a true story,” I admitted in a small voice, feeling incredibly small and vulnerable. When Brian looked my way, I shrunk into the door, not meeting his eyes. “It's my story.”

“We got that settled. You both worked on this.”

I groaned. “I'm JT. Rage was the angel I saw during my coma. He saved me.”

“What?” Brian drawled the word, sliding closer. “Did someone hurt you? Bashed you?”

I closed my eyes, suddenly unable to breathe. I pushed Brian away, but he wouldn't budge. With jelly fingers I tried getting the window down, but found out it was impossible to do it in my condition.

“Air,” I gasped, bending over.

I was aware Brian was talking to Ben in hurried whispers, then a rush of air hit me as the window rolled down slightly. Brian held me tightly, stroking my hair.

“I'm so sorry for bringing this up,” he whispered. “I had no idea.”

I sagged into his side, still not confident enough I could talk. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I would start screaming or sobbing uncontrollably.

“You're okay now. You're safe,” Brian said into my ear, kissing my neck. “No one will hurt you again.”

It was lie.

He couldn't know that, or make such a promise, but his presence and soothing words calmed me enough.

.

.

.

At the airport, I nearly had a heart attack when I realized we weren't using the small jet plane I knew so well. We were going to travel in Air Force One.

I was handed a security man's jacket to blend in. Ben instructed me to walk and act normally, because there were other security men around who didn't know about my existence and wouldn't hesitate to put me down.

I was near the ladder when Drew intercepted me. He nodded curtly, jerking his chin toward the plane. I got the memo that I had to go inside on my own.

I was halfway through the stairs when I looked back down and saw Brian near Ben, looking tall and intimidating even in casual jeans and a gray hoodie.

Inside the plane, I felt lost.

All the movies I had seen regarding this very plane didn't prepare me for the enormity that was Air Force One.

I had no idea where I would stay or if Brian wanted me close to him, but my confusion turned to panic when an agent dressed in a suit approached me, asking for my badge. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

It didn't take a genius to understand I shouldn't be there.

The man looked to the side, then two big security men had me against a wall, asking how I got through the cordon of police. One of them was saying something in his sleeve that sounded like they were going to keep Brian away because of a security breach.

“Release him,” Brian's cold voice demanded from a foot away.

The big guys stepped away immediately, looking confused and suspicious.

It was then that I realized most of the staff was already on the plane. All his people were there, including Ben to Brian's right side, a hand on his gun hostler, and Drew on the other side with his gun out.

“It's okay, guys.” Brian patted their backs. He came to me, touching my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Your people have no manners,” I joked, because what the hell could I say.

Brian sketched a smile, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me close. He looked at everyone around us.

“Let's have one thing clear: from now on – no one attacks Justin again, or you'll answer to me. Before you all start asking…” Brian stopped, clearing his throat. I gasped, realizing what he was about to do, and I couldn't do anything to stop him. He was coming out to his staff. “This is Justin Taylor, the painter who stole my heart. You better treat him as you treat me, if you value your job.” Brian guided me toward what I believed to be his room.

“It's not much, after all this is a plane.”

I stared in awe at the bedroom, before turning to face Brian. “I'm actually speechless at everything that happened.”

He reached to stroke my cheek. “Oh, don't remind me. I told Drew to come in with you, knowing something like this would happen. Did he listen? No.”

“Please, don't be mad at Drew. He's a great guy. And your security men attacking me…I see where they're coming from, but you…Oh, God! You came out, Brian!”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Most of them already knew I am gay. They weren't expecting to see someone able to put up with me enough to join us on this trip.”

Before I could reply, there was a knock on the door.

Brian opened it abruptly, eyes narrowed at the woman in front of him.

“We're taking off in fifteen minutes, sir.”

“Right. Thanks for letting me know.”

She hovered, and I could see Brian growing annoyed. “Anything to drink for you and… ?” I could see her hand waving to me.

“We'll let you know after take off.” He shut the door in her face. “Damn it!”

“Is this how you treat your staff?” I laughed, shrugging out of the jacket. It was like one hundred degrees hot on the plane.

“If you need the bathroom, it's through that door. I'll be…You know what? I'll wait for you.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, gratefully, rushing to the bathroom.