By Friday, I was certain it all had been a nice dream.

I was at Liberty Diner with Daphne, doodling on a napkin while she prattled on and on about some new hot doctor at her hospital.

“Are you listening to me?” she demanded, snatching the napkin from under my pen. “Who's B.K.? Your new boyfriend? Why don't I know about him?”

Shit. I was already making childish mistakes.

I couldn't even say that he was my client. I had no idea if we had a deal or not.

He had surely left an impression.

I thought of him constantly, and when I had seen him on TV the other day, it seemed like he was a different person. I had known only the ruthless man, leading the country, but now I knew about the real side of our President. He was a truly fascinating man.

My phone rang. A private caller. It took me a second to make the connection. He was calling me.

“Hello,” I breathed out, feeling like a stupid teenager talking with his crush on the phone.

“Hello, Mr. Taylor.”

That velvety soft voice was going to be my undoing.

“Have you decided?”

He chuckled. “How are you? I'm fine, thank you for asking. What about you?”

I might have blushed, averting my eyes from Daphne's knowing smile. “Uh, I guess I'm eager to know if we have a deal.”

“I thought that was already decided. Did you arrive home safely that evening?”

The President cared about me, enough to ask about my trip.

“I had your man keeping me safe,” I joked. “Thank you. Drew was much nicer than Big and Bulky.”

He laughed quietly. “Ben's a great guy, don't diss him.”

“Maybe he's selective with the people he's nice with.”

“Give him the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, are you free this weekend? I'll send Drew to get you since you have bonded better.”

“I can come on my own, you know that, right?”

“You wouldn't find the house. I've decided to retreat to Camp David for the weekend. How soon can you be here? Tomorrow morning? Tonight?”

“Tonight,” I repeated skeptically.

“Is there something wrong with tonight? Do you have plans?”

“Well, it is Friday night...but I can always cancel my non-existent plans. Send Drew, please.”

“I'm a step ahead of you, Mr. Taylor. Drew is already in Pittsburgh,” he explained softly.

“What? I'm not at home now. I better head there.” I got up from the booth and ran smack into a wall, or so it felt. When I peeked at the man I had bumped into, I gasped. Drew.

“Did he already find you?” The President was having too much fun with this.

“How?” I wasn't sure who I was talking to—the man on the phone, or the one in front of me. Then I had a flashback of Big and Bulky stealing my phone. “No way,” I gasped. “You had me traced.”

“Ben didn't trust you. Believe me, I chided him for doing such a thing without your consent, but I guess it helped us now,” the President explained.

“I'm not sure how to feel about this. Okay. I'll go pack for the weekend. See you soon, I guess.”

“Later, Mr. Taylor.”

After we hung up, I chanced a look at Daphne who was openly gaping at Drew. To his credit Drew didn't seem to mind he was in a place filled with queers.

Holy fuck! He knew.

He would tell the President.

I might lose my dream job.

“I...have to go,” I told Daphne, lamely.

“Who's the hottie?” She nodded to Drew, now standing near the door, waiting for me.

“It's a long story...and it's confidential. Take care. Tell Emmett I'm sorry for standing him up again. I haven't seen him in weeks.”

“Don't worry your bubble butt. Have fun!”

With a kiss on her cheek and a few bills near my plate, I followed Drew outside. There was a large Caddy waiting for us again.

“You can stay upfront. I'm driving,” he explained.

“Sweet.” I jumped into the car, immediately being surrounded by the leather smell. “One thing, though...”

“My job is to protect, not talk.”

“Thanks, Drew.”

We drove in silence to my condo.

“Do you mind coming with me? I have many things to get if...uh...the President wants to start the portrait.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Justin,” I said instinctively. I wasn't used to being addressed so politely.

Inside my condo, I offered Drew a glass of water, before I rushed to pack. Clothes, toothbrush, art supplies, sketchpads, all was thrown chaotically in an over-beat duffle bag.

“Done.” I came to a skidding halt in the kitchen doorway.

Drew was inspecting the pictures on my refrigerator door. Most of them were of me and my friends, Emmett and Daphne, along with some I should have taken down ages ago that had me and my ex smiling.

“You have nice friends,” he stated.

“I thought you weren't a talker.”

“I'm stating the obvious.” He grabbed my bag, but I could see his eyes lingering on Emmett's picture.

Really? Could he bait for my team? He was the epitome of straight man.

In the car, my stomach did somersaults. I hadn't been this nervous since the time I came out to Daphne.

“I hope you don't mind, but we're going to drive there,” Drew said after a while.

“Sure.”

“So better make yourself comfortable. If you're tired, you can recline the seat.”

“I'm good, thanks.” He really was nicer than Big and Bulky. I should come up with a name for him as well...maybe Teddy Bear. As ferocious as Drew looked, he was a marshmallow on the inside.

A few hours later, my phone pulled me from a deep conversation with Teddy Bear. He insisted Tom Cruise was still hot, which proved my theory that he was queer too, but also proved he had bad sight.

“Can I?” I asked, holding my ringing phone.

He gave me an amused look. “You know Ben was fucking with you, right? As long as you don't say anything regarding Brian, be my guest.”

“Emmett,” I greeted my friend, relaxing back in the leather seat.

“What is Miss Daphne telling me about not seeing you for the third week in a row?”

“Uh, yes...New client,” I explained lamely.

“Most be loaded. Daphne said he sent a gorilla after you.”

When Drew snorted, I realized he could hear Emmett, too.

“Uh, something like that.”

“If he's handsome, tap that.”

“Emmett,” I hissed, beyond embarrassed.

“Is he there with you?” he asked, clearly amused.

“No, but have some decency.”

“Oh, so it's some fossil wanting their painting done for the grandchildren.”

“No. He's not a fossil. Look, can we not talk about this? You know I can't tell you who I'm doing.”

“So you plan on doing him? Good job, baby!”

If my face got any hotter, someone could fry an egg on it. And Drew wasn't helping one bit, laughing under his breath.

“If you keep this up, I'll have to hang up,” I threatened Emmett.

“There's so much dirty in that sentence you just uttered...”

“One more word and I will never mend your broken heart after you fall for every trash available!”

“Ouch. Shutting up.”

“Good. So...how have you been?”

“I sold a cute t-shirt to this bear of a guy. God, baby. He was totally hot!”

Drew's eyes snapped to me, and I raised an eyebrow. He frowned, slowly returning his attention to the road, while Emmett babbled about the muscled man who had visited his store.

“...and I have this distinctive feeling I've seen him before somewhere, though I don't know where.”

“The backroom of Babylon?” I supplied, rolling my eyes.

“No, it was somewhere else.”

“We're getting near. You should end your phone call. You can talk once you get there,” Drew instructed.

“Uh, listen Emmett, I have to go. I arrived at...my client's. See you next week. I promise.”

“All right, sweetie. Have a nice weekend.”

“You too.”

There were two Marines at the gates. They nodded in greeting to Drew.

A shiver ran down my spine as we pulled up in front of the cottage.

I only managed to unbuckle my belt when the door opened. I was too shocked to speak when I saw none other than the President himself.

“We meet again, Mr. Taylor.”

“Not like you didn't know I was coming, or where I was when we spoke earlier. How many people do you stalk like that?”

“Only the important people.”

I huffed. “I should feel safe with you, but knowing you're aware of every step I take...it's scary.”

“I'll have Ben take the tracking chip out of your phone.”

I waved my hand around. “What's done is done.” I didn't think beyond this weekend. I should have accepted his offer, probably.

After we started walking to the house, I noticed he was dressed casually. Over-washed jeans and cable knit sweater never looked better on anyone else.

Inside the house was warm, a deep contrast to the chill outside.

“Let me show you to your room.” The President seemed more relaxed in his vacation home. “Here.” He opened a door, switching the light on.

“Thank you. It's really nice here.”

“I'll be downstairs. Take all the time you need.”

I freshened up after the long car ride.

I found the President downstairs, in the sitting room. He was by the fireplace, leaning against the side of the mantel piece.

“What do you think about this pose?”

I approached slowly, scratching my ear nervously. “You might get uncomfortable standing for so long.”

“So you propose we do this sitting?”

“It’s better that way, sir. We can take as many breaks as you want.”

He frowned, coming closer. “I thought we were over you calling me sir.”

“Right. Uh, it’s odd and not polite to address you casually. You keep calling me Mr. Taylor,” I pointed out.

A slow smirk spread on his face. “Of course. Let’s sit down and discuss my portrait, shall we…Justin?”

“Sure, sir.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Say after me: Brian.”

My eyes widened.

“Go on. Bri-an.” He laughed.

I chewed on my lip, before clearing my throat. “Brian,” I whispered, not looking him in the eye.

“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

“Not really.” I managed a small smile.

“I was thinking a neutral color for the background….and the main picture focused on me, mostly my face.”

“I see. Can I offer you my humble opinion? I’ve done portraits before and I know what looks good.”

“Of course.”

“We will focus on your face as you want, but I want some shoulder and chest into the portrait. How do you think you want to be dressed? I’m thinking a tie would look sophisticated, but too formal if you want the portrait for your pleasure.”

“For my pleasure?” The President barked a loud laugh. “Who do you think I am? Dorian Gray?”

I blushed and stammered an apology. “I mean for yourself, to hang it in your house…”

“So I could tell people I’m hung?”

I had no idea how to take his jokes. Were these sexual innuendos? I thought he was straight.

Christ. If he turned out to be gay…I could ruin my career...and his.

I decided to test my theory. The worst that could happen was for him to kick me out.

“I thought you already told people that.”

He watched me surprised, smiling broadly. “Aren’t you a smart boy?”

“I have my moments,” I said modestly.

He stood up, startling me. “It’s getting late. We can start working on the painting first thing tomorrow morning. I know you artists prefer the natural light.”

“That’s true,” I agreed. I had said too much earlier. He was probably upset, and putting a distance before I ran my mouth even more.

Retreating to my room, I crawled in bed and prayed this commission would end well. Being alone with Brian scared me.

At some point during the night, the acute need to piss roused me from a deep sleep. I blindly stumbled to the bathroom across my room, then since I had woken up, I went to grab some water.

On my way back, I hurried since I was barefoot and it was fucking cold.

I got under the surprisingly still warm blanket and tugged it around me, shivering. A loud groan of protest made me shoot out of the bed, tumbling on the floor, hugging the blanket around me.

The nightstand lamp was turned on, and I blinked against the harsh light.

Brian was sitting up on the bed, his hair tussled, watching me curiously.

“What are you doing in my bed?” I asked stupidly.

“I should ask you that since you’re in my room.”

It took me a beat to realize I got in the wrong bedroom. I wanted to die of embarrassment. 

“If you wanted to get in my bed, you could have asked. You don’t look half bad, so I might have accepted the offer,” Brian said with a wink.

“What?” I shook my head. “I’m really sorry. I went to grab some water and then…I got in the wrong room.”

“You don’t say?”

“I’ll go back.” I scurried out of his room, only to realize I still had his blanket around me. I returned it to him, finding him watching me amused. “Your blanket.”

I put it at the foot of the bed, before running to my room and diving under my cold blanket.

The next morning, at first, I had no idea where I was, then I remembered the President’s proposal. Then last night’s events came crashing on my head like a bucket of ice cold water.

When I gathered enough courage, I adventured to the kitchen.

Brian was at the table eating egg white omelet.

Huh, he cooked.

“Good morning!” He beamed. Maybe he had forgotten about last night. “Tell Matilda what you’d like to eat.” He pointed to an elderly woman by the stove.

“Just some cereal and milk.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Make him an omelet and fried bacon.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not hungry.”

“I hear sleepwalking drains you of calories.”

“Ugh. I was hoping you’d forgotten,” I mumbled.

“Well, it’s not every night when a hot, young, blond boy comes uninvited in my bed.”

I blushed crimson. “You should have told me that your room was next to mine.”

“Now you know.” His words held more meaning than I cared to comprehend so early in the morning.

After breakfast, he took me on a walk to show me the surroundings. I had to stop him at a fallen log and dig into my backpack for the sketchpad. Before I could pull it out of my bag, Big and Bulky appeared from thin air, placating me to the ground.

“BEN,” Brian shouted, irritated. “For fuck’s sake! Does Justin look like a serial killer to you?” He took my hand, hoisting me up, dusting my shoulders and butt off dead leaves. “Are you okay?”

“I…yes. Actually, my ass hurts,” I admitted shyly.

“Do you have anything to say?” Brian glared at Ben.

“How could I know what he’d pull out from his bag?”

“I’m sure that small backpack is filled with hand grenades.” Brian rolled his eyes. “Stop this. I mean it.”

I expected an apology from Big and Bulky, but it never came.

“Do you still want to sit here and sketch? We could go back inside the house,” Brian suggested, still holding my elbow.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here to sketch for a while. The view is inspiring. You could head inside.”

“Ben, follow me,” Brian barked, strutting toward the house.

I gingerly sat on the log, watching their retreating forms. I guessed Brian was really upset with Ben. With a good cause too. He always attacked me or thought I was set to hurt the President.

Hours might have passed, I wasn’t sure, but when a large shadow obscured my light, I looked up to see none other than Big and Bulky. He offered me a mug of hot cocoa, sitting next to me.

“Is this poisoned?” I had to check.

“Like I’d tell you.”

I eyed him nervously.

“Brian would leave me dickless if I harmed you. It was his idea I came here to make peace.”

“Well, I get it. You want him safe, but do I look like a bad guy to you? I didn’t even know where we were headed the first time we met…when you chipped my phone.”

“It’s my job to protect Brian. Everyone is a potential threat in my eyes,” he explained seriously.

“Okay, I get it. Though, now you know I don’t have any hidden intentions, besides painting him,” I confirmed, taking a sip from the hot cocoa. “This is delicious. Thanks.”

“It’s Brian’s special recipe.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have strict instructions to bring you back inside before you turn into a Popsicle.”

“Lead the way.” I laughed, seeing more and more what a funny guy the President was.