Chapter 6

The Second Week

Part 2 The Dance Contest

PART 2

The week passed slowly. But time is what it is and it did pass. And eventually, at last, it was Friday night.

The contest was held in the same ballroom as before. The same long wall was reserved for Justin's art and instead of a stage; a large golden throne with a red velvet seat and backrest was set up for Brian to sit in. The rest of the ballroom was left as it normally was as this was to be a...well, a Ball. Off to one side a large orchestra band set up.

As before, Justin came to set up first. He and a closed-mouthed helper hung five paintings and covered them carefully with veils. The magnum opus remained unfinished.

Afterwards, he went and let Hobbs help him dress in an elegant black tux. It was still assumed that he could not and would not be dancing. But he was court artist now, independently wealthy, and a self made man, and he wanted to look the part. As he slipped into the pair of soft, black leather loafers, he reflected on how far he had come since he had been pulled naked out of the ocean. He had position, wealth and was loved by the man he loved. He had friends and a magical guardian to boot. He wasn't sure exactly what Gus was but he knew he was no ordinary bird.

When he was distracted, Justin gave Hobbs a sideways glance and wondered. According to Gus, he had an enemy too. The valet had done nothing out of the ordinary that week but Justin had reflected there was a lot of time where he did not see Hobbs. Plus there would be those times where Justin would turn around and Hobbs would simply be...gone. As in vanished. Was he an extraordinarily efficient servant...or did he have an intimate knowledge of those secret passages Brian had talked about? Whatever the case was, Justin had kept an extra wary eye on Hobbs that week.

He stood in front of the mirror for a final inspection. White shirt, creamy tie, black waistcoat, black slacks, black loafers. Black on white. Perfect. He doubted anyone would notice anything extra in his shoes or question the topcoat when the time came. He had no idea what was going to happen or what the coat and slippers would even do but he couldn't wait to find out. And he couldn't wait to see the look on Michael's face. He wore his shell necklace under his shirt and his golden key over it. He straightened his gold and pearl crown making sure that the largest pearl was smack dab center right between his eyes. He was ready.

Downstairs again, he saw that people were already starting to arrive. He made his way slowly through the throng, shaking hands as he went until he reached the ballroom. There were plenty of people in there as well; all of them were speculating what was behind the veils this time.

As Justin entered, people turned and saw him. A smattering of applause began. This caused more and more people to turn and the applause grew and grew. Justin limped slowly through the crowd, the applause growing louder and louder. The people stood to the left and the right of him as he made his way to the throne where Brian was already seated.

Brian had never looked so good. He was dressed simply but elegantly. He too wore a black and white tux. A white silk scarf hung casually around his neck. His brown hair gleamed and was brushed backward off his face and hung down to his shoulders. It was held in place by a large but simple gold band of a crown. He held a small gold scepter with a large lime-green emerald on the end of it. He sat straight and stiff in his throne, smiling, waiting for him to come.

The applause seemed to grow louder. To Justin, it was as if waves were crashing over a cliff face, the noise swelling and receding and them swelling again, louder and louder. He hurried, feeling as if he were pushing his way against a current, a torrent of noise. He waved, hoping to placate them. It didn't. It just grew louder, as more people entered. The current grew stronger. The knives bit deep. He pushed forward harder, a little unsteadily.

Oh, God, he didn't want this. Not really. He didn't even want to paint for these people's benefit. That was an accident. Now he painted to communicate with Brian. Oh, why couldn't the rest of them leave him alone?

But they wouldn't. Ever. The only thing to do was grin and bear the pain and wave and keep his eyes on the prize. Brian. Only Brian. And so, he focused on Brian and at last he reached the throne.

Brian held out his scepter. Justin knelt and touched the crystal.

The clapping ceased, as if it had been switched off. Justin stood and reveled in the quiet. Then he held out his hand and offered it to Brian. Brian took it. He stood up. Drawing his hand over one shoulder, Justin led Brian unsteadily over to the veiled paintings. Brian held his other hand at Justin's hip, steadying him.

They purposely made a spectacle of themselves. They had rehearsed all this earlier. They enjoyed themselves immensely. They especially enjoyed the nice shade of plum that Michael had turned ever since Justin had entered. Brian had thought this up to protest and make public the fact that this contest was something that Justin was unable to participate in. However, as Justin led Brian over to his art, he could not stop a small smile from playing over his lips. He would be participating, despite what everybody thought, including Brian. Although just what he would be doing was still a mystery, even to him.

They reached the paintings. Justin took a deep breath. He was incredibly excited. He had given special thought to each of his paintings this time. Each one was going to have an incredible effect on Brian; he just knew it.

He pulled the veil from the first one.

Everyone clapped politely.

It was a seascape at sunset. A merman was jumping away from you toward a great ship with the name BABYLON in gold etched on the side.

"Oh look, it's another merman!"

Everyone ignored the genius.

Justin pulled the veil from the second painting.

A close up of Brian. He was whispering into a sailor's ear and grabbing onto a beefy forearm. The sailor's uniform was exactly correct. The faces were nearly photographically real.

Brian was astounded. That was George. He misted up a little. He remembered all those sailors he had tricked with in his cabin. George had been so hot! But he had never told Justin anything about what (or who) he had done on BABYLON.

Justin pulled the veil from the third painting.

Everyone gasped.

Before them was another painting of BABYLON. It was at the point of the explosion. Flames were shooting out of the middle of the ship and ripping it in half. There was crates and debris flying through the air and in the water. Non-descript figures were also being thrown about. But very detailed and clear, although very small, was Brian, being catapulted through the air toward the dark water. This painting was much clearer and more detailed than the last. Everything looked incredibly real, the waves all had foam on the right places and even the clothes, the slicked back hair and frightened look in the Prince's eyes was stark and incredibly clear.

Brian was wide-eyed. He was catapulted back to that night. He remembered frantically showing men to the boats. There was a...a kind of skip in time...and it was morning and he was kissing a golden boy with fire for hair. He didn't remember this. But he must have been saved from the ship somehow. And that look in his eyes! How had Justin dreamed that up?

Justin pulled the veil from the fourth painting.

It was a reprise of the scene on the beach. This time it was in oil and where it was indistinct before, now it was clear. The man on his back in ripped castaway clothing was definitely Brian. His face was blue. The merman lying over him had a long, shiny, green tail. His head and hair were glowing like a candle. He was pressing down on Brian's chest. They were just about to kiss. It was definitely Justin. The entire scene was completely and hopelessly erotic.

Justin looked square Brian square in the eye and very deliberately patted his chest, pointed at his eyes, pointed to the exploding ship. Pointed to Brian and George. Then he slowly approached his last painting. With a noisy flourish, he pulled the fifth veil.

Brian's eyes bugged out. He couldn't believe it. Staring back at him was a realistic, facial portrait of Uncle Vic. He had never shown Justin a portrait of Uncle Vic before or described him in any way. There was no way Justin could know what Uncle Vic looked like unless...

"You were there! You really were there..." Brian breathed, in wonder and excitement. He looked into Justin's blue, so blue eyes that shone with triumph and love.

He became aware of a dull roaring noise. Everyone was clapping politely and moving away, mingling, to eat and drink. They didn't understand that anything was out of the ordinary. But as everyone else moved away, Brian moved toward Justin. Justin moved forward as well and when they met, they snapped together magnetically.

"You really were there! Weren't you?"

Justin nodded wearily and pointed to the first painting.

"But if you are a merman, why aren't you one now?" Why are you a human?"

Justin sighed theatrically. He had answered this question over and over. Perhaps Brian was finally ready to hear the answer. He pulled out his pad and wrote yet again: I PAID THE PRICE TO BE WITH YOU.

"What price? What are you talking about?"

Justin pointed over to the beach scene. He indicated his shining head. He wrote: I GAVE MY SUNSHINE.

He patted his throat.

"Your voice? You gave your voice? That's what happened to it?"

Justin nodded.

"I still don't know what you mean by giving your sunshine. But whatever happened, I wouldn't worry. You didn't lose anything like that. You ARE Sunshine!"

Beaming with pleasure, Justin leaned up for a sweet kiss, which Brian bent to supply.

Both of them were relaxing, getting lost in the pleasure when they were prematurely ripped apart. Justin was pulled off Brian and thrown to the floor. And then Michael was there, his face ugly with hate.

"Keep your damn hands off and quit kissing my fiancé!" he snarled. He linked Brian's arm with his. "I don't care how good you paint; I'm goddam sick of watching you two make out in front of me! This ends now!"

Brian pulled his arm out of Michael's. He went up and pulled Justin to his feet. "Enough, Michael! You're making a scene!"

"A scene! Are you kidding? I don't care anymore! What do you think you were just making...are constantly making...with him!"

Brian grabbed Mikey's bicep and squeezed painfully. He hustled him out of the ballroom. Justin followed behind.

"Excuse us, folks! We'll be right back. Feel free to get things started!" He motioned to the band. They began to play something snappy. Everyone began to dance. Brian, Michael and Justin went out of the ballroom into a hallway where they would not be overheard.

"All week he's been all over you, in front of me or otherwise, you haven't been to bed, and I've tolerated it until now because I knew you were punishing me for setting up this contest night," Michael continued, "Well, the night has arrived and it'll soon be over so I'm through with tolerating! The punishment is over! You are marrying ME and you are going to start acting like it!" He moved to take Brian's arm again. Brian moved away.

"If I did, that's all it would be...acting!" Brian said scathingly.

"Wha - what do you mean?" Michael stammered.

"Michael, we haven't been kissing to punish you. Well, not entirely," he amended, "We've been kissing because...because we love each other."

"What? No! No!!! Brian you can't do this to me! I love you!"

"Come off it Michael! If we're both honest, I think you know that's not true. You love yourself and you love the idea of being King! But I've been watching you, Michael. Even before Justin got here, you were showing yourself to be heartless and cruel. Your outbursts of temper. A maid calls you El Diablo, Michael! The Devil! You'd make a terrible King!"

Michael had nothing to say to that one.

"Michael, we hooked up because I thought you had rescued me and I was grateful. But if Justin really was there that night, if his paintings are true, then that means he rescued me, even though I don't remember it. That means he deserves my gratitude, not you!"

"But I did! I did rescue you and I nursed you back to health. Where was he when I did all that huh? Who deserves gratitude for that?"

"Did you rescue me? Come on Michael, what really happened?"

"I - I found you. Just like I said. You were washed up on the shore and I brought you home! Just like I said! I've always said that!" Michael cried, a little hysterically.

"But what if I had been carried there? What if I hadn't been washed up. I'd be DEAD, Mikey; along with everybody else!"

"Well, I didn't see anybody else! I just thought you were washed up. There was no other explanation. You can't penalize me for coming to that natural conclusion!" Michael cried.

"No...but I can penalize you for the rest of it. Besides Michael, it's not a punishment. Face it, Michael, ever since Justin arrived, your heart has been so full of hate there's been no room for love, for him, for me, for anyone else. And now, I don't love you anymore either. It's over."

Michael was too heartbroken to say anything. With a broken sob he just turned and ran out of the hall toward the Great Hall and then towards...who knows where.

Justin watched him go with mixed feelings. Mostly, he was happy. So happy. Brian had chosen at last. He had broken his old ties and best of all he believed him and loved him. This was bliss. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel sorry more Michael a little bit. He would hate to be in his shoes and he remembered tasting that heartbreak the night of his first art show. He didn't wish it on his worst enemy, which ironically, was probably Michael. He couldn't help remembering the Sea Witch's prediction: But beware. Whether you succeed or fail there will be more than one broken heart between you.

He looked up at Brian and was shocked at the stark, haunted look in his eyes. "Well, that's done. Really, I've been putting that off for way too long. I've been..." But Justin had thrown himself into his arms by then and then there were no more words. They rested each other's heads on each other's shoulders and just stood there like that for a long minute. Justin rubbed Brian's back comfortingly.

Finally, Brian said,"Well, it looks like I have to do this dance contest thing. If you want, you can come watch but if you'd rather not, you can head to your studio, or your room, I'll walk you anywhere you want to go." He offered his arm.

Justin took it and they headed back to the ballroom. When they got there, Justin turned his footsteps toward it, indicating where he wanted to go. Brian tried to keep the ridiculously pleased smile off his face and failed miserably.

Everybody smiled and clapped when they came back in. Brian escorted Justin to a nice chair where he would be near his paintings and also have a nice view of everything. Then he made his way to his throne and clapped for silence.

"OK, well, folks, I'll be honest with you, this show was not my idea. However, we've got a good turn out here and remember we're doing it for the orphans. So let's just keep them in mind as we get this show on the road!"

And so the dance contest began at last. It was much the same as the singing contest although with...well, dancing instead of singing. Everyone had a set time to wow the Prince with an interesting opening step and then, if necessary (and if Prince Brian agreed) he would dance the other half of a two person dance. However, on Prince Brian's end it was a very basic performance and it was up to the contestant to dance his or her part well. It was common knowledge that the Prince was gay so there were many men who chose duet dancing as well. However, most realized they'd have to be content with copping a feel as it seemed pretty obvious that he was taken.

The first contestant was from a nationality that was just East of India. So she had gone all out and dressed in Indian costume and danced a traditional national dance. Everyone was impressed and even Brian gave a small nod and a clap.

The next one was a guy in a kilt and danced a Highland jig to bagpipes. After 5 minutes of that, Brian cried, "Enough!" and that was that.

There was another national dance, the first waltz, which Brian helped with, and then a rather frenetic number with a lot of high kicking.

"NEXT!"

By this time, Brian was bored out of his skull and lazing back on his throne sideways with one leg throne over the thrown armrest. (sorry, I couldn't resist) He toyed with his emerald sceptre. But he started and sat straight up when he saw who the next contestant was.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

It was Michael. He was wearing a mismatched getup with garish colors and a green beret. It was tight where it should have been loose and loose where it should have been tight. The designer was clearly insane.

"Please Brian! I practiced this for a really, really long time! I just want to get a chance to show you," Michael wheedled.

"Michael! Under the circumstances...don't you think this is highly inappropriate?" He looked him up and down. "Not to mention in poor taste."

"Come on, Brian! This is just for you. I practiced allllll week! I know when you see this you'll like me again. I just know it!" Michael's eyes shone with a pathetic madness.

Somewhere, Debbie slowly backed in a few layers of people deeper into the crowd and covered her eyes in horrified embarrassment. Carl held her tight.

Brian opened his mouth but realized the futility of it all. He remembered how bored he was. So he sat back down and waved his hand. Whatever...it said.

Michael gave a signal and the band began to play a strange music with an arrhythmic beat. However, even this did not matter because Michael began to dance a strange flailing, kicking dance that had nothing to do with the music anyway. He gyrated his hips and kicked his legs straight up and out.

With his teeth clenched together, barely moving his lips, Brian ground out, "Michael...you're embarrassing yourself. Please stop."

But Michael didn't stop. His flailings became more and more frenetic. He flopped down on his stomach and arched along the floor like a worm and...

"Please stop," Brian said in a quiet horror.

...flipping over onto his back, he arched wildly, thinking he was creating a new dance craze. He wasn't. Instead he looked crazy and looked like he was having a seizure. Somehow he flipped himself up on his feet again and...

"Please stop," said Brian.

...he began an even wilder, kicking, jumping routine. He kicked, punched crazily...

"Please stop..."

...next he bent forwards with his ass in the air, his hands on the floor. He gyrated his hips, bobbed his ass up and down. He looked like a constipated bear who was presenting...

"Please stop..."

...and finally, in a move that defies description, jumped, kicked, kicked higher, spun, kicked, kicked higher still and kicked himself in the head and knocked himself out cold.

There were a few moments of horrified silence.

Brian just sat there, shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wondered what he had ever seen in this man. He made a waving gesture with his hand. Take him away... it said.

Two guards appeared and dragged him off "stage" to the side of the ballroom where they could tend to him medically, if need be.

Brian looked over to Justin for strength. However, he was very disappointed when he saw that his chair was empty. He was gone. Brian didn't blame him. He was probably jealous and angry with him for letting Michael perform. He wouldn't have blamed him. He was angry enough at himself for letting that go on as he did.

The next dancer was Flamenco. The contest continued.

BJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJ

But Justin was neither jealous nor angry. In fact, he was glad for Michael showing up as it had provided the perfect diversion for him to sneak out. Everyone....guests, waiters, and guards were watching every move in horrific fascination. He himself had paused by the double doors and watched in amazement as Michael somehow kicked himself in the head. Then, as Brian was shaking his head, he had silently passed out of the door and into the halls.

Now, he limped/ran down the correct hall to his studio and went inside. He went to the Remington's crate. He began to dig through the layers and layers of pads and notebooks until he came across the feather coat and slippers that he had buried and hidden there so long ago. He lifted them out carefully, shook them out again to fluff out the feathers, and ran back, locking the door behind him, of course.

When he reached the ballroom again, Brian was helping in his minimalist style some nice young woman dance the tango. She was doing an admirable job.

Justin watched and a small smile curved his lips. It didn't matter how good she was, whatever this coat was going to do, it was going to blow them all away. He just wished he knew what that was going to be. Ahh well, it looked like he was about to find out. Near the end of the dance, Justin slipped off his shoes, slipped the slippers into them like innersoles, and the slipped into his shoes again.

AAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Oh, by Great Neptune! At last! At long last! The knives were gone. Not just muted by good feelings or conscious ignoring of them but gone. At last. The sweet joy and relief. Justin felt like crying tears of joy. But then the dance was over and there was no time for that.

"NEXT!" came the cry.

Quickly, Justin slipped on the coat and he could feel all the feathers ruffle and fluff themselves into readiness. The high collar grew higher and formed into a hood around his hair. The ends of the collar wrapped themselves around his face. The three longest feathers on each side reached up and diagonally over his face covering his forehead, around his eyes and face in a kind of mask. He strode confidently and unlimping into the ballroom and toward the long aisle that led to the Prince.

As he got to the end of the aisle, he heard a voice. Well, not a voice, really, more like a word spoken directly to his feelings and his mind. And suddenly, he knew what to do. Jump! Said the voice.

Justin jumped up and forward. The feather coat sort of...flared out, and he flew the whole long way down the length of the ballroom. He tucked and rolled forward three times and landed right in front of the throne. He bent to one knee and held out his palm in a reflection of what he did earlier. Everyone gasped and applauded.

Brian gaped with wide eyes. But he recovered and slowly stood. He put his scepter down on the throne and took the proffered hand with his own.

"That's a bitchin' coat. Where'd you get it?" asked Brian.

Justin just bowed his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't have explained even if he wanted to.

Dance the waltz... said the voice.

And so, Justin pulled the Prince in closer and began to dance. One, two, three, one two three, around and around. He looked deep into the Prince's eyes. It was as if they were the only two in the room. He ignored the crowd.

Prince Brian was hypnotized. He looked back at this black and white vision, into the only color this man exuded, the electric and brilliant blue of his eyes. He danced around and around taking part in the dance in a way he had refused to with any other.

Somewhere, off in the distance, Brian heard the crowd gasp. "Sounds like you're making points, stranger," he drawled. The man smiled and pointed down.

Brian looked and gasped. The two of them were dancing 6 feet off the ground and rising. The man's feather coat was flared out at the bottom. Brian didn't even feel them lift off. As he looked down and felt the flash of fear, Brian felt himself slip. The bird man gripped him under the arms tightly but he was heavy. Brian gripped the bird man around the waist.

Everyone gasped.

"Don't let me fall!" gasped out Brian, looking up at the bird man's blue eyes. The warmth of his smile and his eyes captivated him once more. The bird man mimed dancing and swung Brian around. Brian mimed dancing and suddenly it was as if a bubble of air was under his feet again. He was able to stand. He held the bird man closely and danced. The bird man nodded encouragingly and pointed at his eyes with two fingers. Look at me. Only me.

Brian smiled. He understood and nodded.

The two men danced higher and higher above the crowd. Everybody watched them in wonder and excitement. Even Michael who had regained consciousness along the side of a wall looked on with jealous hate and sadness. He'd never get Brian back now. How could he compete with a flying man?

Eventually, Debbie couldn't stand it any more and she grabbed her man. "C'mon Carl, let's shake a leg!" she hollered. She and Carl began to dance the waltz too. More and more couples began to join in and soon the whole ballroom was waltzing around with one special couple overhead.

Brian looked down and chuckled when he heard Debbie's exuberant yell and was filled with happiness when he saw everyone else start to enjoy themselves too. Because he was looking down in love and not fear, he stayed airborne but he quickly returned his gaze to his dance partner. Behind his mask, Justin smiled brightly. He led Brian to the edge of the room. They went higher and higher.

"This is some trick," Brian said, "I don't know what everybody else would say but I think you might have a shot at this thing."

The bird man flashed a very familiar million watt smile. They danced closer to the edge of the room. One of those windows that covered the top half of the room and arched at the top loomed. "Hey we aren't going out the window are we?"

The bird man nodded and then cocked his head as if to say, "You up for it?"

"We coming back?"

The bird man smiled widely and nodded.

"OK then. Might be fun. You're a very good dancer. The only thing that would make this better is if you were my boyfriend. Funny thing, you and he have the same eyes."

The two feathers covering his forehead pulled back.

They danced out the window.

"And you both have the same amazing, brilliant smile. Are you sure you don't know my boyfriend? Justin?"

The other feathers covering his face pulled back into a collar again. Justin smiled. Noon and midnight (well, nearly) collided.

Brian smiled his own sunshine grin and his eyes sparkled for Justin and Justin alone. "I thought it was you, you twat! But now I'm glad I know so I can do this!" Wolfishly, he grinned and mashed their lips together ravenously. His hands roamed lower to cup and knead Justin's cute little bottom. Tongues dueling, they turned, still rising higher into the air. Soon they were higher than the tallest spire and they were looking down on the castle's twinkling lights and the black carpet that was the sea and the fields of Liberty Kingdom. Above them sailed a full moon and billion stars twinkling cold and clear like diamonds. They danced together, young, and free and alone except for each other. They were ecstatically and perfectly happy in this one moment. And both of them knew that they'd remember this moment, forever.

"This has been the most magical night of my life. It was so boring and then Michael made it a nightmare and then you...you made it all go away. This is just what I needed. This is amazing. You're amazing. I love you, Justin."

Justin pulled Brian to him and wrapped both arms around him and laid his head onto Brian's bigger chest. His heart found Brian's heart. He regulated his breathing until he could feel it. His heart began to beat in unison with Brian's. He was so happy he thought he would burst. He loved Brian too, with all of his heart.

For a while they just turned in the air, in each other's arms. They danced twice around the entire castle.

And then, a single feather separated from the coat and dropped, twisting and spinning, to Earth.

And then another. And another. And slowly, slowly, they began to descend.

Go back." came the voice.

So Justin began to lead Brian back, waltzing all the way back toward the castle. One by one, the feathers dropped from the coat but not in an alarming fashion. They reached the window. They danced through. Feathers began to shower the guests below in a pleasing display. Everyone was still waltzing, many cheek to cheek

Brian and Justin danced lower. Closer and closer to the floor they came. Justin shed more and more. At last they reached the floor. The band timed it just right. As they touched the floor they ended and at the same instant, the last pinfeather dropped off Justin and he was left there in just his tux. It was over.

But it was far from over. The rest of the crowd broke out into thunderous applause. Brian raised Justin's hand over his head and yelled: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the winner of the Dance Contest and host of tomorrow's dinner, JUSTIN SUNSHINE!"

Everyone applauded, cheered and whistled.

Justin's smile was at least 3 million watts.

BJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJ

Elsewhere in the castle, in the sparse and dank sitting room, the cloaked man waited.

A dismal fire was burning in the grate. It crackled and sparked constantly with only a small flame that gave off little heat. But he had not gotten there very long ago and he would not be there for very long, so he ignored it. He waited impatiently.

At last the knock came and the servant entered.

"Master! I have been watching him..."

"Twenty-four hours a day, yes I know. You can stop. I was hoping you could find some dirt, some vice I could use against him but there was nothing. I'd hoped all those witnessed infidelities would work in my favor somehow but all has come to naught. He has bewitched the Prince and ensnared his mind with magic. How else could a mute man win a singing contest? How else could he fly and dance in the air? All is lost. There is only one thing to do now."

The servant knelt down at the Master's feet in a sycophantic display of devotion. He stroked his knee comfortingly. Master stroked the servant's hair absently. The servant reveled in the attention.

"Master, I'm so sorry. I've never seen you so morose. What can I do? What is the one thing to do? Tell me, and I will do it."

The Master leaned forward. In the dim firelight, he not only looked fanged and feral but positively demonic.

"Kill him," rasped Michael.

BJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJM

The evening was winding down to a close. The lights were low in all the chandeliers and everybody who wanted to be, were dancing slowly. In the very center of all, in their own circle of light, Brian and Justin had finished their Spotlight Dance and were now just turning, turning. With the pain gone, Justin had danced every step perfectly and easily. Now, with Brian's scarf around his neck, he laid his head on Brian's chest. He had never felt so happy. Their arms were wrapped around each other. Justin's hands were around Brian's neck. Brian's hands cupped Justin's ass.

Midnight chimed.

On the last stroke, the pain came back with a vengeance. Justin put a foot down and it felt as if he were skating on blades. He stumbled and then fell, his teeth gritted, his face contorted in pain.

The people near them gasped in shock and concern.

"Justin! Are you all right?" Brian was at his side immediately. He easily kept everyone back.

Embarrassed, Justin nodded and got back up but he couldn't stand. As soon as he tried to put any weight on his feet, the pain bit cruelly into him. It was as if those knives knew he had been getting a reprieve and were back for revenge. He nearly fell again, grabbed onto Brian's neck, his legs dangling. He looked up into Brian's kind eyes, with wide, scared eyes. He was in serious trouble here.

Brian smiled and grabbed his ass again and lifted him up so his feet weren't touching the ground.

"Is the pain back?" he asked quietly.

Justin nodded miserably.

"Can you walk at all?"

Justin shook his head.

"Well then," Brian hoisted his a little higher by his ass until their groins were touching. He kneaded those two luscious globes wantonly. "Looks like I got you just where I got you."

Justin glared. "Be serious!" it said.

"Oh go ahead then! Spoil my fun! Well before we do get you out of here, I just have one thing to say about that."

With his arms still around Brian's neck, Justin cocked his head in askance.

Brian pulled him toward him and leaned in for a bruising, searing kiss, all the while kneading the two globes of his bubble butt. He ground their cocks together. Justin could feel his rock hard stiffie. Justin groaned at the sensation. His hands slid up to frame Brian's face as Brian devoured his tongue and then slid his own into Justin's mouth. "Damn that man!" thought Justin, "Why did he have to have such a way with words?"

After several minutes of mind melting kissing, Brian whispered, "Act sleepy."

Justin obediently lay his head down on his shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Well folks, it seems as certain court artist and contest winner is ready to hit the hay, so I think this is a good time to wrap up the festivities! Everybody, if you'll be so good as to follow the designated staff members out, I'm going to put this cute widdle guy to bed!" Brian adopted this horrible cutesy baby voice and mussed his hair. Justin turned his head and sloooooooowly tilted it sideways and gave Brian a look of pure bloody murder. Brian looked back totally unconcerned and gave him one of his patented slow, deliberate winks with his tongue in cheek. Justin was his hostage and he could do anything he wanted and he knew it. He was loving this. Justin was going to kill him for this.

Everybody groaned in disappointment at the end of the party but gave clucks of sympathy and well wishes to Justin, who waved back, mortified beyond belief. And then it was over, as Brian carried him out, still massaging his asscheeks, with Justin's legs wrapped around Brian's waist.

BJMBJMBJMBJMBJMBJMJMBJMB

A few minutes later, they reached Justin's door. Justin was still furious. Now that they were there, he motioned to be let down. Pain or no pain, he was not going to be undressed and put to bed like a baby or whatever else Brian had planned.

"Awww, now Sunshine, it was only a joke," Brian tried to apologize. "Say you forgive me." He tried to steal a kiss.

Justin dodged it. "Down!" he motioned.

"I really am sorry." But he lowered Justin down.

The pain was un-mother-f**king believable...but Justin combated it with ever ounce of pride in his body. After the initial impact, Justin discovered that if he held perfectly still, he could tolerate the pain. He stood there and crossed his arms and jutted his chin out.

"Can I come in and talk about it?" Brian wheedled.

Justin shook his head. NO WAY! He put his hand on the knob. He turned it and took a deep breath. He deliberately and quickly stepped inside his room. His gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. He turned. Great! The sliding knives were back. He formed his gritted teeth in to a wide grimace.

"Are you gonna be OK, Sunshine?" Brian asked in concern.

Justin nodded and waved. If he would just go and let him sit, and go to bed, he'd be perfect!

"Are you sure? You look pale as a ghost! Maybe I should call Doctor Dave."

Oh God! Why wouldn't he just leave!? Justin shook his head and signed, "I'm OK!" He tried to shut the door. Brian stopped him.

"Say you're not mad at me. Say it, and I'll go. I'll even bring you breakfast tomorrow. Forgive me. Forg..."

Justin was desperate. If he didn't get off these torture devices, he'd die. He leaned forward and shut Brian up with a kiss. Then he slammed the door in his face.

"You won't be sorry!" came the voice of the infatuated Prince on the other side of the door. "It'll be the best breakfast you ever ate!" And then he was gone at last.

But Justin had been lying through his gritted teeth. He wasn't OK. He could barely move on his own. But he would make it. He had to. His feet hurt like Hell. He took a deep breath and tried to move to the bathroom to get undressed.

He could make it.

Pain flashed through his entire being. He tried another step.

He could make it.

Geez, how was pain like that even possible? He felt like his feet were gone. He was just walking on two bloody stumps. Justin's face was as white as the paper he drew on. He swayed. Everything went blurry.

He could...could...make...

He fell to his knees. The room spun. His eyes rolled crazily and then rolled up into his head. Everything went black. Justin fell forward full length on the carpet and lay like a dead man.

To Be Continued

Please Review!!!