Justin’s Thanksgiving in Pittsburgh

For weeks, since before Thanksgiving, Brian had not been to Essengy, and had avoided the Art Department, having Sam come to him instead of coming down. That was fine by Justin. Then he had gone to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving, and it had been a nice break.

His time there had been fabulous. It was great to see Daphne, and Emmett was a hoot. The first evening he was there, they went to Babylon and danced together until two in the morning. The DJ came down at one point, and tried to take Daphne away. “As he does every time,” confided Emmett, but she laughed it off. They had a great time.

Back at their apartment, Daphne shared her bed with Justin. She wore flannel pajamas, and he slept with light sweats on. It was way more comfortable than the couch, and she had slept in his bed in New York. He liked waking up with her in the morning, and talking in bed.

While they were still lazing there talking, Emmett poked his head in. He was leaving to go help Debbie with dinner, and told them they should be there around four, because that’s when it really started. They were spending Thanksgiving dinner at a Debbie Novotny’s house, where apparently all of them congregated for the major holidays. Justin felt a little weird going to someone’s house he did not know for Thanksgiving, but Daphne and Emmett both assured him it was all right, so he gave in.

They arrived just in time to hear the end of an argument, and Emmett stopped them for a moment on the porch, explaining that there was some tension since, once again, Gus’s father had changed his plans and was not coming.

Gus was disappointed, which meant that his mother Lindz was upset and his other mom Mel was pissed off. Mel took it out on Michael, who, because he and Gus’s father were best friends, was somehow supposed to control Gus’s dad, though apparently no one ever could. Of course Michael was hurt because his best friend wasn’t coming and annoyed that he was being blamed for it, which meant that Ben was upset, which meant that the entire party was at each other’s throat.

Apparently, Debbie had just solved the problem by saying that the son of a bitch was not to be mentioned again, and now that Daphne and Justin had arrived, all would be well, because everyone could concentrate on Justin and forget all about anyone else who should have been there… That did not sound so great to Justin.

“Don’t look so worried, Justin. They’re all going to love you!” said Emmett, reassuringly. Emmett opened the door, and announced to the brooding assembly, “Look who I found loitering on the porch!”

“Daphne!” A wild looking woman, who looked as if she relied on transvestites for fashion advice, greeted Daphne like her long lost daughter, with a hug and a kiss. “And who do we have here? This must be Justin!” He got a hug as well, and a pinch on the cheek. “You are even cuter than Emmett said! Would you look at that smile! Come on, Sunshine! Come meet everybody!”

He met Mel and Lindz, Mike and Ben, and later, when they arrived, Blake and Ted. Gus, Lindz’s son, took a shine to him and he played with him most of the afternoon. JR, Mel and Michael’s daughter, was cute as a doll and smiled at everybody. Justin really enjoyed the mish-mashed family, and the feeling of love that filled the horribly over-decorated house.

He did not mind being the center of attention. He talked about art with Lindz, who ran a gallery, about comics and comic book drawing with Michael, who ran a comic store and about skiing with Blake. He liked Blake especially. He was a little shy, and crazy about Ted. Justin didn’t think Ted was anything special, though he was nice, and had a wicked sense of humor, but he loved to watch Blake and Ted together.

Their feelings for each other were in all their small gestures, their smiles, and their constant awareness of each other. He learned later from Emmett some of the hurdles they had had to overcome to get where they were now, and it made him hopeful that maybe someday he would know the same kind of relationship with someone.

Ben’s son Hunter arrived just in time to eat dessert, and he was the funniest, most obnoxious teenager Justin had ever met. He obviously had a huge crush on Daphne, and was not in the least shy about it.

“How did you two meet?” he asked Justin and Daphne, while digging into half a pecan pie that he evidently had no intention of sharing with anyone.

“We’ve known each other since kindergarten. She kept stealing my shovel in the sand pit,” complained Justin.

“And he kept pulling my hair!” Daphne whined.

“And we’ve been best friend ever since.” They leaned into each other, holding hands, batting their eyes.

“I had a crush on him in junior high, until he told me he was gay.”

Justin gave her an apologetic grin. “She was my alibi girl from then on…”

“Yeah, more like his fag hag…”

“And then, she saved my life.” Justin gave Daphne a kiss on the cheek. “My hero!”

Daphne smiled, blushing. “I did, didn’t I?”

“How did she do that?” asked Hunter, realizing they were serious.

“Well, when we were seniors in high school, I came to Liberty Avenue once, to check it out. To my great disappointment, nothing happened. I spent the night leaning on a lamppost, too scared to do anything. So the next night, I dragged Daph with me. I wanted to go to Babylon, but I didn’t want to go alone.

“Well, we couldn’t get in: I didn’t have a membership, or any fake ID, so we ended up at the Liberty Diner. On our way out, we met these kids from our school. One of them, the captain of the football team, called me a fag. So I told all his friends how I’d given him a hand job in the football storage locker, and I felt pretty good when he was so embarrassed that he ran off.

“When we got back to our car, he came at me out of nowhere with a baseball bat and tried to brain me. He knocked me out, fractured my skull. Daphne kneed him in the nuts, and broke his collarbone with the bat, then called 911.”

Hunter high-fived Daphne, who giggled.

“Way to go, Supergirl!”

Justin continued. “Without her, I would have died. As it is, I was in a coma for like three weeks, and in rehab for months.”

“Oh, my God, Sunshine! You were that kid in the newspaper!” Debbie sat down next to him, with her arm around his shoulders.

“Hobbs, the guy who bashed me, only got 500 hours of community service. Can you believe it?” Even after all this time, that still rankled.

“I thought they said you were brain damaged!“ said Michael.

“Michael!” Lindz looked at him, astonished as ever by his lack of tact.

“Well, they did!”

Justin laughed. “I was. I am. My right hand… I can’t draw like I used to. It shakes, and I lose control of it after a little while.” He shook his hand out, as if it had just cramped again and looked sheepish.

Lindz smiled at him. ”But you made it to art school anyway.”

“Yes. There was a follow up article in the paper about me a couple of months later. It was buried in the back, and talked about how my life had been ruined, how I could no longer go to art school because of the brain damage, how I had lost control of my hand. It was mostly a sob story. They must have been having a slow news day.”

“Yeah, remember, Ma? You cut it out and had it taped to the cash register for weeks.”

“You did? Really? Thanks…” Justin was really touched.

“Yeah. I hated how quick everyone forgot. It happened right down our street, and people just went on, business as usual. It made me sick.”

“Well, a good Samaritan read it, and sent me this computer anonymously, with a brand new program on it that allowed me to draw with a stylus. It took me a while to give it a try, but I did eventually. I started drawing again, and I was re-admitted to art school.

“I contacted the software company to thank them, to let them know what a difference they had made in my life. They have been using me as a guinea pig ever since. I try all the modifications they do to the program, and give them feedback. Some get to the market, some don’t, but on my own computer I have everything. I learned some programming to make it all work together. It’s a mess, and only I can make heads or tales of it, but it’s a great tool for me. I do 75% of my work on it. I plan my paintings, I do design work, I draw, everything.”

“Do you still work without it?” Lindz was curious.

“Yes. I sketch; do portraits, things like that. But nothing that takes too long. Well. I paint, also.”

“Pratt is a great school. You must be extremely talented.”

Justin blushed.

“He is!” said Daphne. “He had a show in California, and they sold all of his paintings, even the really big ones.”

“You had a show in California?”

“Yes, I was there for a few months, at the LA School of Design. I mostly painted there, and a few of us were part of this emerging artists expo. I had eleven pieces. The last two just sold a couple months ago.”

“Do you still paint?”

“Oh yes. I’ve had to stop recently to concentrate on design, but painting is what I love.”

“Do you have photos of your work?”

“On my computer.“

“I’d love to see them. Why don’t you two come to our house tomorrow, for lunch?”

Justin looked at Daphne, who was nodding enthusiastically.

“Sure, why not?”

That night, all the boys and Daphne went to Babylon. Dancing with everybody was a total blast. The couples left after a while and soon it was just Emmett, Daphne and Justin, just like the previous night. The DJ came down from his booth to get a drink, and just like the night before, hit on Daphne. This time, she yielded, and went back with him to his booth.

Emmett started grinding a guy with tattoos, so Justin felt no guilt when a cute guy, who looked about Emmett’s age, dragged him to the back room. It was dark in there, with a blue light creating shadows that made everything and everyone look mysterious and sexy. The guy started sucking him off, and was pretty good, but then he stopped, stood up, and whispered in Justin’s ear.

“I want you to fuck me…”

Justin did not usually fuck total strangers in back rooms. To him, that was real sex, and he was not all that comfortable doing it with someone he’d never see again, but the guy was pulling down his own pants and repeating, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

He told the guy: “Are you sure? I’m from out of town, I’ll probably never see you again…”

“Yeah, I’m sure… I want your nice big dick up my ass, now…”

He even got a condom out of his own pocket and put it on Justin. Justin turned him to face the wall, and saw that the guy had a plug in his ass. Obviously, he really knew what he wanted. He slowly eased out the plug, and put it in the pocket of the guy’s pants, and slid into the guy’s ass in one push. It felt fucking fantastic. He had not fucked anyone since Ethan, and this guy’s ass was tighter, yet more welcoming than Ethan’s had been.

He had forgotten how good fucking was. He had to stop for a moment so as not to embarrass himself, but then closed his eyes, and concentrated on the sensations as he pumped hard and long, holding the guy’s hips, pulling them towards him as he pushed in, his balls slapping the guy’s balls, his cock in as deep as it could go.

“Yeah, yeah, oh, god, yeah, fuck that ass, just like that!”

It was nice to know he was doing a good job, though right now, he just didn’t care that much. He just wanted to fuck and fuck hard and fuck fast.

The guy started grunting with each of his shoves, pushing back on the wall with both hands into Justin’s cock, responding to his every move. Finally he let out a cry: “Fuuuck!” and sprayed his come all over the black painted wall. His rectum tightened around Justin’s pumping cock, and Justin let himself go, coming hard into the condom. He kept pumping a couple more times, pulled out, slipped the condom off and tied it up.

Unlike in the VIP room of Essengy, there were only paper towel dispensers at Babylon, not nice terrycloth come towels, but he offered a couple to his trick before cleaning himself up, putting himself back together and zipping up his pants. His trick was still leaning against the wall, getting his breath back. He rested his chin on the guy's shoulder, and asked, “Do you want me to put your plug back in?”

The guy turned to look at him, and smiled. “No sweetie. You did good. I’m done for tonight,” and kissed him on the lips.

Justin tucked him back into his underwear and pants, and zipped him up. The guy turned into his arms and kissed his neck.

“Well! Cute, shags like a god, and treats his tricks like a gentleman. Now you’ve made me sorry you’re from out of town… Take care, sweetie.” One last kiss on Justin’s cheek and he was gone.

Justin felt tired and well fucked. It was time to go home. He came out of the back room, found Emmett at the bar, drinking water, and managed to get Daphne’s attention. They left, arm in arm, singing the last song that had been playing, You think you’re a man, on their way back to the car.

They got to Mel and Lindz’s the next day at noon and Justin was welcomed by a jubilant Gus, who dragged him away to show off his room and his toys. Justin just laughed and let Gus have his fun. They were called down to lunch and ate leftover turkey sandwiches, the best part about Thanksgiving as far as Justin was concerned.

He loved their house. It was so homey, with artsy knick-knacks and dozens upon dozens of framed photos on shelves (so many only the more recent ones, mostly of Gus and JR together, could be seen), toys everywhere, eclectic art on the walls, and cozy throws and cushions.

He showed Lindsay (he learned that was her real name and liked it a lot better than Lindz), the photos of his paintings. He hated hovering when someone else was looking at his work, so he got out his sketchpad, and started drawing Gus, who was listening to Mel read a book to him and JR. He was a beautiful boy. His lips, his eyes and the way his hair parted in the front looked somewhat familiar. Justin did two quick sketches, and then went back to fill in details.

Then he made a portrait of Mel with JR, who had fallen asleep. He wasn’t able to finish, his hand having started shaking. It looked nice unfinished. The details were only in Mel and the baby’s face, everything else defined by simple bold lines. He stacked up the sketches, and slid them under a magazine on the coffee table, for them to find later as a thank you for lunch.

Lindsay finally looked up.

“These are amazing, Justin.”

“Thanks.”

“Which are the ones you sold in California?”

“These.” He pointed to a line in the thumbnails. “Those are in Daphne’s parents’ basement, except for this one, which seems to have found its way on her wall.”

Daphne giggled guiltily.

“These are all in New York, the small ones in my closet, the large ones in storage at Pratt.”

“How large are the larger ones?”

“These were 8X8 feet,” he said pointing to the green and red ones from the California exhibit. “These are 4x6 , this one 6X6 and these 4X4. This one is huge. 10X8. I don’t know why. I like big canvasses. It’s impractical. I can’t put them anywhere, and even if I tried, they would be really hard to sell. Nobody has walls that big in New York. But it had to be that way, you know?”

“So right now you have twelve paintings in New York, and four here in Pittsburgh, five if you count the one purloined by your so-called friend?”

Lindsay was smiling at Daphne, showing she was only joking.

“Yes. But I don’t like this one, or that one.” He said showing two of the ones in New York, a big one and a small one. “I wasn’t in a good space when I painted them. They were an assignment, so I didn’t have much choice, but they suck. When I’m done with that class, in February, these are gone.”

Lindsay nodded. “I understand.” Then she looked at Justin seriously.

“My gallery is doing a new artists expo in December. Would you be interested in putting a few of them in, say, maybe six?”

“Are you joking? Of course I’d be interested. Which ones do you have in mind?”

Lindsay pointed to the first line of thumbnails. “This one, this one and this one, which are already here, and this one, this one, and one of these two from New York.”

“This one is 4X6 feet, Lindsay, and this one 6X6. I can’t afford to ship them.”

“Well, that’s where you are in luck! Our Gallery is picking up paintings from an artist called L.J. Hiller, in New York, week after next. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”

“Of course. She's great!”

“She was commissioned to do a mural at city hall, and we are doing a retrospective of her work, with sketches, studies, drawings, and seventeen paintings in January. Most of the paintings are on loan from private collectors, but six are at her studio, in Jersey City. Our van could detour by Brooklyn and pick up your paintings then. It would be…” She checked her day planner. “…the 9th of December. Would that work for you?”

“I’ll make it work!”

“Great. It’s a deal, then. The new artist exposition will start the week before Christmas. It’s a chance for young people to show their art, and buyers to be able to purchase affordable art for the holidays. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

She made a face. “Every year, we have one or two art investors who come and pick up the work of artists whom they feel have the most future, to put it back on the market in a few years, when they have made a name for themselves. We can’t do anything about it. Critics and people have a chance to see the paintings at least, until they store them away, so it’s not all bad. We do have some pretty big names come to opening night. Both Sid and I call in favors to bring them to the Pitts, and Emmett throws a terrific opening party. This year, it will be…” She checked her day planner again, “…the 19th. I hope you can make it.”

“I will. I’m off on the 18th and I’ll be coming in on the 19th anyway. It’s Daphne’s birthday. I don't start again until the 3rd of January.”

“Terrific!”

They spent another hour there, and then left. Daphne’s school friends were throwing a party, and she was dragging him there as her alibi guy.

“It’s time you return the favor. They all think I can’t get a date.”

“Of course you can’t. You spend your life hanging out with fags!”

“Well, tonight you are straight. And my date. So look it. Don’t check out the guys’ butts.”

“Me? Do I ever?”

She gave him a look that told a long story, and rolled her eyes. He grinned.

“So, do we get to make out?”

She laughed at him. “If you promise not to gag!”

“Daphne, if you had a dick, you’d be totally my type! Hell, if you had a dick, I’d marry you…”

So they went. Justin wore a flannel shirt, and they danced and made out like teenagers. They got totally high on hash-brownies. They came back to the apartment stoned out of their minds, giggling like twelve-year old girls, and ended the evening watching A Streetcar Named Desire with Emmett. Since he didn’t want to be left out, he got out his grass, and got as high as they were. They ended up all falling asleep on the rug in front of the TV, and Emmett was almost late for work.

Justin and Daphne went to the diner for breakfast, and met Ben and Michael there, who moved to make room for them in their booth.

Hunter was working, and was the best busboy Justin had ever seen, which really came as a surprise. He also flirted outrageously with all the customers, getting his ass pinched more than once.

“Isn’t Hunter straight?” Justin asked Ben.

“Alas, yes. Our boy likes girls,” answered Michael, faking despair.

“He does a good job pretending he’s not!” Justin pointed out.

Ben leaned forward. “He does it for the tips…”

“Yes,” said Hunter, coming out of nowhere, and obviously gifted with extremely good hearing. “I play gay for pay.” He gave Justin an alarmingly realistic come hither smile. “See something you like, Sunshine?”

Seeing Justin's stunned look, he added. “Pretty good, eh? I used to fuck for a living.” And without missing a beat, he went back to busing.

Ben shook his head, looking resigned.

“Well, you’re the one who’s always telling him he has nothing to be ashamed of!” commented Michael.

“He doesn’t!” said Ben. “His past made him who he is today, and I’m proud of him.”

“We all are,” said Debbie, coming to take their order.

“Thanks Grandma!” said Hunter, giving her a kiss as he walked past with a tub full of dishes.

“You’re welcome, Honey. So what will it be?”

Justin and Daphne both ordered the pink plate special.

Ben explained: “Hunter’s adopted. He had a difficult childhood.”

“He’s got a new girlfriend,” whispered Mike, with a big smile.

Daphne put her hand on her heart, looking crushed. “What? I thought I was the love of his life!”

Hunter came back out of the kitchen. He put his tub down, and slipped in the booth next to Daphne, putting his arm around her shoulders. “You are, Daphne! Say the word, and I’m dumping the bitch!”

“Back to work, you!” said Debbie, putting down their breakfasts. Hunter got up, and picked up his tub. ”Just say the word, Daphne!” She cracked up.

“He has amazingly fine hearing,” commented Justin.

“Yes,” said Mike, softly. “It’s like living with a superhero. Imagine trying to have sex with him sleeping next door…”

“I heard that,” said Hunter loudly from the other end of the diner, “and the way you two go at it, I sure don’t need superpowers…”

They all started laughing, Michael rolling his eyes. After breakfast Daphne went to her grandparents, Ben to the gym, and Michael offered to show Justin ‘Red Cape’, his comic book shop. He obviously loved it. He showed Justin some of his favorites, and told him he had always wanted to write a comic, but couldn’t draw to save his life.

While he was helping customers, Justin took out his sketchpad, and drew a comic-like character, which he based on the most beautiful man he knew.

It was Brian, in a tight sleeveless costume, with a small black mask and a sneer on his face. He chuckled to himself.

“Wow,” said Michael. ”This is really good! What’s his name?”

Justin grinned. “Rage”

“Cool. What does he do?”

“He’s the Gay Avenger, saving Liberty Avenue from evil!”

“What’s his superpower?” Michael was so into it, it was cute.

“Huh. I don’t know…” Justin emphasized the shadow on Rage’s crotch. “A really big dick?”

They both laughed. “Here,” said Justin. “You keep it. I’ve got to go. I’m meeting my mom for lunch.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize your mom still lived here.”

“Both my parents do. My dad kicked me out of the house when I came out. I lived at Daphne’s for my senior year. My mom tried to smooth things, but there was never any hope. My father never even visited me in the hospital when I was bashed. But she did. She tries to keep in touch. She paid for my school until I left town. She’s all right.” Justin shrugged. He was not looking forward to it, but could not, in good conscience, not see her when he was in town.

“Daphne and I will be at Babylon tonight. You coming?” he asked Michael.

“Nah. Come have a drink with us at Woody’s before Babylon though. We’ll be there.”

“Ok. See you tonight!”

“See you!”

***

Seeing his mother was always difficult. They had been so close when he was growing up. He told her about his life in New York, about his work at Plexus, trying to make her feel like a part of it, but the truth was he hardly thought of her when he wasn’t home.

His Dad was an asshole, had cheated on her for years, and yet, when it had come down to it, she had taken his side, had let him kick out a seventeen year old into the street. She‘d known Daphne’s parents would take him in, but still. It wasn’t right.

His Dad owned a chain of electronics stores, and when he had received his computer anonymously, he had been sure it was from his Dad. He had held on to that fantasy for months, and when he had been readmitted to art school, he had gone to thank him, thinking his Dad would be proud. His Dad had brought him back to reality in no time at all, asking him why he would ever think he would help ‘some faggot’ who was lucky enough just to be alive, and to get the hell out of his store before he called the cops.

As usual, after their lunch, his mother tried to give him some cash, but he turned her down. God knew there had been a time where he could have used it, but after she had stopped paying for his schooling because his Dad had found out, he had never taken another cent. Truthfully, even now, a little extra cash would have been nice, but he was OK on his own. He told her to buy something nice for Molly from him.

He kissed her cheek saying goodbye, and she smelled like she always had, a scent that for years had meant love to him, and he ended up hugging her really tight for a long time. Still, he was glad to get away.

***

That night, at Woody’s, he learned to play pool. He was really bad, and Ben, Michael and Emmett all tried to give him tips, but it was hopeless. Daphne, on the other hand, was quite the pool shark. Her granddad had a table in his attic and she had played for years. She swindled Michael out of twenty bucks, pretending that, like Justin, she had never played before and Ben laughed so hard at Michael’s outrage, it got them all going, even Michael joining in at the end.

Emmett bowed out of Babylon that night, needing his beauty sleep. Apparently his boy friend Drew was coming home Sunday night for a few days. He was a football player. He had played for Pittsburgh, but had switched to Chicago, and didn’t come home very often. He had a fabulous house in the posh part of town, but Emmett refused to stay there on his own, which is why he shared an apartment with Daphne, though he ran his catering business from its huge professional kitchen.

Daphne disappeared suspiciously quickly up to the DJ booth, and Justin just danced alone for a while, but then Blake showed up. Ted was out of town on business, and wasn’t one for dancing much anyway, so Blake sometimes came alone just to dance.

They had a great time together. Blake was rather quiet and gentle when you met him, but on the dance floor, he was wild, and killer sexy. They were both shirtless, sweaty and attracting others like flies. An amazingly hot guy started putting the moves on Justin, and Blake just winked at him, letting him know he’d not mind if Justin left for a while.

Justin and his conquest went to the back room, where they started making out and playing with each other’s cocks, pants down to their knees. The guy really was gorgeous everywhere, and sexy as hell. He wanted to fuck, but Justin let him know that wasn’t in the books. Taking it in stride, the guy dropped to his knees and gave him a blowjob to remember, sucking on his balls and playing with his hole, receiving Justin’s come on his tongue and coming back up to share it in a kiss.

Justin wanted that beautiful cock in his mouth, and for once, reciprocated. He loved that the guy was uncut, and played with his foreskin, which was apparently a really good thing to do. He rolled the guy’s lovely balls in his hand as he deep throated his ten inches with a vengeance. He loved the feel of the spunk hitting the back of his throat. When he came back up, his partner in crime kissed him long and hard.

“That was one of the best blowjobs I’ve ever had,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“Justin.”

“I’m Brandon. I’d love to get together again, sometime. Not here, though.”

“Sorry. I’m going back to New York tomorrow.”

“Fuck. That’s too bad. Coming back around here anytime?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here for Christmas.”

Brandon got a business card out of his pocket. It only had his name and his number. “Give me a call before you get back. It’s a really busy time for me, but I’d love to see you again.“

He looked a Justin for a second, his hand playing with Justin’s hair, as if he was hesitating about something. Then he said, “Do you like ballet?”

That was a question Justin hadn’t expected. “Sure. Why?”

“I am with the Pittsburgh city Ballet. We do The Nutcracker at Christmas. I’m the lead in the gold cast. If you tell me when, I could leave your name at the box office. We could go out to eat afterward. I’m always starving after a performance.“

He was still playing with Justin’s hair, but not looking at him. Justin had a feeling Brandon was doing something quite out of his comfort zone by asking him on what could be seen as a date. His blowjobs must be way better than he thought.

“That would be really cool. Thanks.”

Brandon looked at him. “If you were here at another time, it would have been better. We do amazing choreography, exciting stuff, usually. But at Christmas, we have to do The Nutcracker. It’s our bread and butter for the rest of the year.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

Brandon looked a little dubious, which was really adorable on his perfect face.

“Really,” Justin added, and kissed his lips. Brandon kissed back. It was very nice, and Justin squashed the memory of another kiss down. He was enjoying himself. And so was his cock. And Brandon’s. Brandon reached in his pocket, and came back with a lube packet. He squirted some inside his right hand, and Justin put his right hand out for a serving.

Then they continued kissing as they gave each other mutual hand jobs. Justin was ahead, and had to stop for a while as he came, his head against the wall, Brandon sucking his neck, but he resumed immediately after, and if Brandon’s noises were anything to go by, did a really fine job.

He hated those stupid paper towels of Babylon, and thought wistfully of Essengy’s nice soft come towels, but they did the job. When he was presentable again, he and Brandon went back out together. Blake was gone, and Daphne was waiting for him at the bar. Justin introduced Brandon to her before heading out. Brandon grabbed his shoulder as he was stepping away, and kissed him quickly. Justin smiled at him and put his arm around Daphne as they crossed the dance floor.

As soon as they stepped outside, she turned to him. “What in the hell was that?” she asked.

“What? You mean the kiss?”

“Yes, Justin. I mean that Brandon guy kissing you!”

“We… uh. We spend some time in the back room, and… we actually talked for a little while. Why?”

“Did you let him fuck you?”

“Daphne! What the hell? Of course not!”

“Justin, Brandon is, like, the Brian Kinney of Babylon. He fucks guys once and moves on. And they line up for it. It’s pathetic. They all think he’s so hot, he can have anyone he wants. He’s a prick, completely egotistical.”

Justin laughed. “He asked me out to dinner and the ballet when I come back for Christmas.”

“He what??”

“He asked me out.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing! Much. You know, the usual.”

“Justin, you always tell me you go to back rooms for guys to give you blowjobs!”

“Well, yes. He did.”

“He gave you a blow job.”

“Yes, he did.”

“Unbelievable. You have hidden powers. That must be it. From what I know, he fucks guys, or he gets head. He never gives head. He is like an alpha dog.”

“Well, he gives good head. Can we stop talking about this now? You’re just being weird.”

“Maybe he has a cold and took too much Nyquil. That stuff can really mess you up.”

“Yes, Daphne. That must be it. Why else would the hottest guy I’ve met beside Br… Why else would one of the hottest guys I've ever met want to take me out? Silly me. I thought he liked me, and it was only the Nyquil talking.”

Daphne looked mortified.

“I’m sorry, Justin. Any guy with half a brain would want to go out with you. Hell, I’m a girl and I go out with you. You are cute, and smart, and sexy, and very, very forgiving when your bestest friend says something stupid. Of course, if anyone could get Casanova to act like a person instead of a sex machine it would be you. Maybe I’ve had too much Nyquil.”

“I love it when you grovel. Hey, I don’t know the guy. He seemed nice. I’ll probably call him. And if it turns out he was having an off moment and is another Brian Kinney whom, by the way, we were not supposed to mention, I’ll tell him to fuck off. End of story. Let’s move on.”

They had made it back home. They talked for a long time, about things that mattered, like her thesis and his painting, and ate a lot of ice cream. They went to sleep at four, and at 1:00 PM, Justin was on a flight back to NY. It had been an awesome Thanksgiving.