Baby Makers

Justin

So Brian explains his idea, and I have to admit that it sounds good. But I make a couple of small alterations. He gives me a look, just like I expect, but then the corners of his mouth twitch and I know he's alright with it. We spend a bit of time working 
out some of the details. Finally he says, "Okay - well, go get in your car, and when you're ready, call me."

I'm about to walk off when we both realize the problem with that. His phone is still on the kitchen bench. I hand him mine.

"I'll call from the loft," I say. "And I'll pick yours up there, so if you need me, call on that."

He nods. Then he gives me one last kiss. His eyes have that glint of lust and mischief that is an unbelievable turn on and I think how right he was to suggest this. This is going to be fun.

Now all I have to do is to get it organized. First stop is the Marriott. This is the part Brian wasn't too happy about, but he agreed anyway. I didn't really expect him to, or not without a whole lot of drama, anyway, but he really only put up a token resistance. Maybe it was because it could be his birthday present, or maybe it was because of the car thing. I don't know. I'm just glad that he is okay with it.

I pull up at a phone box first and call them. I tell them that I want a room for tonight - the best that they have. They say that they have business rooms, but I tell them I want better. They mumble, but finally say that there's a suite vacant, but it's $600 
for the night. I say fine. I'll be there soon to check in. They say they'll need a credit card. That's fine, too.

So that's okay. I drive there and check in. They scan the credit card and it comes up okay. It should. It's got a limit of three thousand and there are no charges on there. They're maybe questioning who books for one night with no luggage, but they have the sense not to say anything. I tell them that the suite's other occupant will be checking in sometime during the 
afternoon. 

They take me up to the suite, and I look around - it's okay, but there's something wrong. I can't quite get what it is, and then I realize it's the heating unit - it's making this faint whistling noise. It will drive me nuts, and Brian ... well, he would either not notice it at all, or totally queen out over it.

I tell them they either have to fix it, or get me another suite.

I get another suite.

This one is better - bigger everything, including the bath, and with much better furniture.

I graciously admit that this is satisfactory.

By now I should think that I'm heading their obnoxious guest list, but I tip the bellhop really well, and he promises to look after my guest when he arrives.

I ponder about making dinner reservations. The restaurant downstairs is great. It's one of the main reasons we chose the Marriott. But they will send food up to the rooms, so I decide that that will probably be a better option.

Just thinking about food makes me realize I'm starving. But I have things to do before I meet up with Brian, so I head back to the loft.

Once I'm there, I check quickly through the messages - amazingly there are no new ones from Mikey and only one from Deb to say that she's told Michael that things being the way they are, he should forget about going to the munchers' on 
Sunday. Whether he'll listen is another matter, but at least she's trying.

There's also one from Lindz saying that she'd called and spoken to Ben and told him that maybe Michael should think about staying away, and apparently Ben agreed. Well, he would. Poor Ben. But that doesn't mean that Mikey will listen to him either. And then there was one from Mel saying she hadn't been able to reach Michael yet (well, I wouldn't be taking her calls either, if I were him, not knowing how pissed off with him she is) but that she'd left a message saying that he's not invited on Sunday. 

Shit!

She also said that Lindsey was mad at her and thought that she'd been a bit harsh, but, Mel said, if it was the other way around no one would have any hesitation in telling Brian to stay away, so why shouldn't she do the same to Michael when he was 
being such a shit? 

That really rocked me. I mean, Mel's right. But that she of all people would see it that way just amazed me.

There were two other messages, one from Em just to say `hi' (well, probably really wanting to catch up on all the goss, but still ... at least no dramas), and one from my mom saying that she'd had a phone call from Deb who sounded really upset and kept 
telling her I was an angel not to be throwing her out into the street and what the hell was going on?

God! poor Mom. Deb in full drama queen mode. I look at the time and it's nearly twelve thirty (no wonder I'm starving), which means that Mom, with any luck will be on her way to tennis. I call her condo and get the machine, so I leave a message 
saying that Brian and I are going away for a couple of days, but that everything's okay, and Deb's just over-reacting and I'll talk to her when I get back.

Then I finally get to call Brian. Before I do, though, I take a deep breath and spend a couple of minutes getting into the right frame of mind. Then I dial.

I'm not sure where he is when he answers the phone, maybe a store. There's really cheesy music playing so it could be a bar somewhere. 

Anyway, I switch gears and start playing my part. It's not as hard as I might have thought, because I really am feeling both nervous and excited. Which makes me wonder what it's going to be like later on. 

"Um? Hello? Is that Brian?"

His drawled "yeah" sounds both sexy and bored.

"Um, they gave me this number to call you. About tonight."

"So, you're Justin?"

"Yes."

"Well, Justin ... I'm told you want the whole night, is that right?" His voice is still sexy, but briskly professional now.

"Ah, yes'" I find myself gulping down air, trying to get the words out. Somehow this little game is really getting to me already.

"They've told you how much?"

"Yes."

"And that I don't make house calls." 

"Yes. I've booked the hotel room. It's a suite at the Marriott downtown."

"Good. Now is there anything else I need to know? Anything that you particularly like?"

"Um ..." 

From somewhere in my brain, my memory dredges up the sound of my voice babbling inanely about TV and video games and I cringe. Why on earth he didn't just kick me to the curb right about then is beyond me. He must have thought I was totally 
clueless. Well, I was. But it must have been so, so obvious. What on earth did he see that made him keep me around, even after Mel's phone call gave him the perfect out? It can't just have been the prospect of sex ... he could, and can, get that any 
time.

"Justin?"

His voice calls me back to now, and I say, "Oh, I ... you know. Anything really."

"Justin," his voice is lower now, even sexier, still professional, but just a tiny bit amused. "They told me you are a virgin. Is that right?"

I gulp. 

The memories of that night are coming fast and hard now, with the emphasis on hard. Especially standing here in the loft and listening to his voice.

"Y ... yes. Sort of."

"You've never done it with anyone?"

"Well ... " 

Before I can get anything else out, he goes on, "Never had another man's cock in your hand?"

"No," I breathe, my own responding to his voice, and to the memories.

"Never had a cock in your mouth. Never tasted cum?"

"No," I have to touch myself, I have to. But he knows me too well.

"Not yet," he orders gently. "Save it. Save it for me."

"Oohh!" I moan softly down the phone at him. But I keep my hands away from my cock. He's right. We want to savor this.

"Never had a man's hot hard cock up your tight little ass?"

"No," I whimper.

"Well, you will soon."

He breathes the promise down the phone to me, and I damn near cum right then without touching myself at all.

"Give me the room number and I'll check in by two. After that, the clocks running. You get twenty-four hours. You understand?"

"Yes. Yes. I'll be there as soon as I can after that."

I tell him the room number and I'm about to hang up when he says, suddenly, sounding really amused now, "And Justin ..."

"Yes?"

"Check my messages."

Then he hangs up.

I figure he means the messages on his cell, so I check them. There were a whole heap from Mikey from last night and early this morning that I just delete. And a couple from Mel and Lindz that I skip. 

Then there's one from him: "For fuck's sake get some lunch before you go to the hotel. I don't plan on stopping to let you refuel any time in the first few hours."

I laugh, and turn to the refrigerator to get myself something to make a sandwich, when the banging starts at the door.

I figure it's either going to be Mikey or Deb and I don't really want to deal with either of them. But better me than Brian, so I go to the door.

It's neither Deb nor Mikey, though. It's Mel and Lindsey.



Brian

Fuck that conversation was hot! 

Just the thought of bedding a juicy little blond virgin is making me think of that night, of how amazing he was. I still can't believe that he had the guts to go for it the way he did. Let alone the stamina to keep up with me. He must have been so fucking sore the next day, but not a squeak out of him, and he was as eager for another joust in the shower as I was. 

I have to admit that his idea of turning it around so that I'm the very very expensive whore that he's hiring for the night to divest him of his unwanted cherry is much hotter than having him as my hustler. As for him paying for the hotel - I should have kicked up about that, I know. But ... he wanted to. And I wasn't lying when I told him last night that I understood his need to be independent. 

I did and do. So ... I'll find a way to pay him back for this. But without making a big deal of it. Maybe just restock all his art supplies for him for a while. They're expensive, at least the best ones are. And what's the point of trying to do good work with less than the best? Plus, he doesn't count that as me `keeping him'. Buying art stuff for some reason counts as an acceptable present. I can never figure this fucking stuff out. But in Justin logic there's a difference between me buying petrol for his car, or 
paying all the supermarket bills, and buying him new canvases and paint. I guess he figures the art stuff is more personal, so it's ... I don't know. More like buying flowers or shit. Anyway, it's something that he needs, and will accept from me, especially if I give it to him the right way. Like it's a gift thing. You know, candy, flowers, paint brushes. 

Fuck! And people wonder why I avoided all this shit for so long.

But knowing that I have that way of making up the money to him without him feeling that his damned pride has been hurt, means that I can relax and enjoy this fantasy all the more. Especially as I have a few things planned that he doesn't know about 
yet. Which is why I am in one of Liberty Avenue's more liberal establishments checking out the latest in sex toys and flavored massage oils. They have a very interesting line in leather, too. My little `virgin' is going to definitely have some new experiences 
tonight, whether he knows it or not.

Of course, I have to be very mindful of the fact that whatever I introduce him to he's going to want to try out on me eventually. So I avoid things like cock rings with feather ticklers on them which just drive me nuts. I don't get them at all. But there are some very interesting ridged condoms which I think he'll like. We usually just go for smooth and strong, because these ridged things have been known to split and sometimes you don't even notice till it's way too late. But we can always double up, wear a standard with one of these over it. Not as much fun for the one wearing it, but that's okay. If I know Justin, we'll be taking turns doing the wearing anyway.

The place also has a new line of glass dildos that are almost works of art. They're supposed to be super safe - dishwasher proof even. But that's not the selling point. To anyone who likes cock, likes the shape of it, the curves, the swell, these things are beautiful. I buy him one that has swirls of blue that almost match those fucking amazing eyes of his. I don't know that we'll ever use it, but it can sit on display and shock the munchers. And I pick up a few other little surprises as well. 

With the way things have been lately, this is the closest thing we're going to get to a holiday for a while, so I plan to make sure we both enjoy ourselves.

And fuck everyone else. They can all just back off and leave us alone for one night at least.



Justin

Lindsey looks seriously pissed. I look past her to Mel, who is holding Gus, and who just shrugs. I take Gus off her. Surely she shouldn't be holding anything that heavy while she's pregnant? 

I'm about to ask what the little visit is for, when Lindz bursts out, "Why doesn't my key work? Have you changed the lock?"

Shit! she sounds just like Michael. I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. Brian's on the verge of losing one long time friend, I don't think he'd deal well if I piss Lindsey off as well.

"Hi, guys!" I say with a smile, as Gus pats my face. "Brian had the locks changed a couple of weeks ago."

"Well, I need a new key, then," she says.

I bite my lip and try to figure out how to deal with this. It should really be Brian who tells her where she can look for her new key, but on the other hand, I don't want him to have to deal with it.

"Well," I say, playing for time and hoping I can think of something. Then I realize. There was a reason Brian changed the locks. And I'm part of that reason. We live here together now. And that means that I have a say in who has a key to my home. It's not just up to Brian anymore. That's what it was all about.

So I tilt my head up at her and say calmly, "Brian and I figure that now we're living together, we're really the only ones who need keys."

She stares at me like I've just spoken to her in Swahili and it's totally incomprehensible to her.

"But ... I need one."

"Why?"

"Well, because sometimes I have to be able to get to Brian. Because of Gus."

"You can call. You can knock on the door. If we're here, we'll usually answer. Eventually."

"But ..."

"Lindz," Mel interrupts, but Lindsey brushes her aside.

"Justin, I know that you think that you and Brian are a couple now. But you have to be realistic."

I can feel my eyes narrow, and I put Gus down on the floor and turn on the TV so he can watch some cartoons. I make sure he's settled, then I walk over into the kitchen area, where we can still keep an eye on him, but where, if we talk quietly, he won't hear what we're saying. The things that Mel and Lindsey both say about Brian in front of Gus make my blood boil.

"Lindsey. Brian and I are a couple now. It mightn't last. Who knows? But right now we're together, and whether you understand this or not, we are entitled to our private life together. We're entitled to be able to make love or fight or just hang out without anyone who feels like it being able to walk in on us without even knocking."

She's staring at me again. Mel is too, but she's looking a bit ashamed, as if she's remembering some of the times that they have just barged in on us in the past. Lindsey just looks pissed.

"Justin, you might as well give me a key now, because Brian will when I ask for one."

I look straight into her eyes. Then I shake my head. "I don't think he will. But, Lindsey, I'm asking you, don't do that to him. Don't pull a Mikey and put him in that position."

"Justin, I've known Brian ..."

"A lot longer than I have. True. But what's that got to do with it. Does he have a key to your place?"

She gives an irritable shrug. "Well, of course not, but that's completely different."

"Why?"

"Well, because ... Justin, it just is."

"No, Lindz, it isn't," Mel finally manages to get a word in. "Justin's right. I wouldn't like it if you gave Brian a key and he felt free to come barging in whenever he wanted to speak to you. I get pissed off enough when he knocks at the door!" 

The last is said with a grin. She's trying to take the sting out of this and make Lindz see the funny side of the very idea of what Mel would do to Brian if he charged in while they were in anything similar to some of the positions that Brian and I have been in when we've been interrupted. 

Lindsey stares at her. "Look. That's completely different. Brian and I ..."

"Are old friends," Mel acknowledges. "But I don't see that gives him the right to come barging into my home."

"Yes, but you and I are together. It's *our* home. It's not like that for Brian ..."

She breaks off, and now I'm staring at her. All this time, I've thought she was my friend. I thought she supported Brian and I. I thought she liked us being together.

She meets my eyes, and all of a sudden she looks horrified. 

"Justin! I'm sorry! I never meant it to sound like that."

I shake my head and turn away. I feel really sick, suddenly. Dizzy, almost, as if the world has suddenly started spinning.

"Justin," she puts her hand on my arm. "Justin, I'm truly sorry. It's just ..."

I look at her.

"What, Lindz? Are you like Michael? Just think I'm with Brian till something better comes along? Or do you think I'm a silly little faggot that he just keeps handy to fuck when he can't be bothered to go out looking for anything better?"

"No! Justin, no. That isn't what I think at all."

She sinks down onto one of the recycled bar stools that I wouldn't let Brian throw out until we'd replaced them, and stares at me, like she's seeing me for the first time. Like she's seeing me as Brian's partner for the first time. I feel hurt and angry, but 
I'm damned if I'm going to back away like some little pussy. This is how it is now, and they might all fucking well get used to it. So I just stare back at her. It's sort of like a cat competition.

For what seems like a long while she just sits there with this weird look on her face. It takes me a while to realize that it's shock. She looks like she's just run head on into a brick wall that she didn't know was there.

Then, suddenly she smiles. Really smiles. And gets up and hugs me. It's like a Debbie hug and it goes on for a while and I think I'm going to pass out if she doesn't let go soon.

Mel must realize, because she says softly, `Ah, Lindz, honey. I think you should let Justin go now."

So she does and I get a good look at her face and there are tear tracks on her cheeks, but she is looking like a little kid who against all the odds has just got their biggest Christmas wish ever personally delivered by Santa Claus.

She touches my face and there's no need for her to say anything because it's all right there in her face. In that moment I realize how much she really does love Brian, in a way that Michael just doesn't seem capable of. Because she is really, really happy - not for me. But for Brian. She's happy that he's finally found someone. She's happy that he's finally let himself be with someone. She knows Brian. She knows it mightn't last. But at this moment she sees me being here for what it is, for what it means, and she's glad right down to her toes.

I smile at her, and just as Brian would have done, Mel breaks up the moment. "So, is his lordship here?"

Lindz and I grin at each other. I'm sure she's thinking the same as I am about how alike those two are.

"No, ah, he won't be home for a while. I have to get moving, I'm meeting him in town."

They look at each other. 

"Well, it's about tomorrow."

I stiffen up. 

Lindsey goes on, "Deb rang, and she says that he knows about it."

I nod. "I told him."

Lindsey smiles, "Probably just as well. Brian doesn't take too well to surprises."

Mel snorts. "His fucking birthday is hardly a surprise! Not unless he's even more deeply in denial about his age than we know about."

We both sort of ignore her. We're used to screening out the comments Mel and Brian make about each other.

"So we thought that if he already knows, then we could ask him what he wants to do about Michael."

Mel gives an exasperated huff, and I look at her, and this time it's she and I who are in synch here. 

"Lindz, I told you. I won't put Brian in that position. I won't."

"Well, but ..."

"Lindsey, he's right."

By the tone in Mel's voice I can tell this argument has been going on for a while. Probably since last night.

"Look, Lindz, it's up to you who you invite to your house. And I don't want to put you in the position of having to take sides. If you invite Michael, that's fine. Brian and I will both cope with that ..."

"Fuck that!" Mel interrupts. "I don't want to see that little prick until I've had some time to calm down."

Lindsey goes to say something but Mel cuts over the top. "No, Lindz, I mean it. And if you want our son exposed to another scene like the one at Deb's then all I can say is, you've lost your fucking mind!"

She raises her voice a bit, and Gus looks up. I smile at him and wave, and he grins and puts his finger over his lips before he goes back to his cartoons. God! That was so cute. I have to remember to tell Brian. He'll shrug it off, but he'll file it away in his 
mind, too, like a little treasure. Even if he wasn't here to share it.

Lindsey sighs. "Well, I suppose that's true."

"Damn right!" Mel huffs.

Then she sinks down onto one of the stools. I suppose I should offer them coffee, but I want them to go. I have things to do, and Brian to meet.

"Fucking Kinney!" Mel grumbles.

"Excuse me?" I say, a bit shocked. I mean, yeah, yeah. Mel. Brian. We all know. But where did that one come from.

"Biggest fucking mistake I ever made," Mel says quietly, suddenly looking tired and not very well. Lindsey turns and puts her arms around her, and Mel rests her head on Lindsey's shoulder. 

"I put up with all the stalking shit ..."

Brian!?

"... and the emails telling me what I should and shouldn't be eating."

Not Brian.

"Hell! I even put up with him wanting to know all the fucking details of when I was sick, and what my fucking weight was ..."

Very definitely not Brian. Michael? Michael was bugging her like this?

"And when he made that big song and dance about his parental rights, I sort of went along, even though I knew it could cause problems later, because ... because at least he seemed to care ..."

She sounds really upset now, and I don't know what to do. Hormones. I know, I've heard. But what do you do about them?

"But then ... he just decides that he's going to leave. Just like that. Without even telling me."

Her voice is really wobbly now. Lindz rubs her back and says, "Mel, honey, it's okay."

"And it's all fucking Kinney's fault."

I stare at her, trying to work this out.

"If he hadn't been such a prick when he found out I was the one who was going to be having the baby then it all would have been alright."

Because Brian would have been the father.

I realize what she's saying, and I feel terrible. I look at Lindsey and realize that suddenly the three of us are on the verge of tears over something that it's way too late to do anything about now. Well, except pray that the baby doesn't take after his 
father as much as Gus does. Because suddenly Gus has decided that everyone's attention has been off him for far too long and that he's going to do something about it. He's heading towards the new TV, entertainment system, whatever the hell the 
thing is, and is about to start drooling all over it, if nothing worse.

I head off to rescue him ... it ... whatever. And that sort of gets everyone moving, and then they're leaving. Mel gives me a hug, and says, "Just ignore me, Justin. Sometimes ..."

I nod. I really, really do not want to get into a women's thing discussion right now. It could turn my dick soft for the whole afternoon and that is so not the plan.

Lindsey gives me a bigger hug. "Justin, sweetie, about the key ..."

I meet her eyes and she smiles at me. "I'm glad, baby. Really, really glad."

I nod. "I know."

"And about what Mel said ... she's thinking that way at the moment because she's so pissed off with Michael. But ... it wasn't just about how Brian reacted. She ..." she wrinkles her nose. "Brian. You know."

I grin at her. I know alright. Mel. Brian. 

"I know Lindz," I say. "At the time she was probably having nightmares at the very thought of having Brian's baby."

Her mouth drops open and I wonder what I've said. Then she giggles.

"You're right. She was."

Suddenly that seems very funny and we're both laughing as I close the door.

I lean against it for a moment.

I really need some time to think about all this, and work out what happened here. But there isn't any time.

Not if I'm going to be at that hotel anywhere close to two o'clock.

At that thought, everything else seems to fade into the background and I start rushing round to get the things I want. Now, if only I've remembered correctly about where the things I need are tucked away. I rummage in the back of the closet, and I'm 
right. They are there. 

Now I just have to gulp down some lunch before I get changed.

I feel myself grinning. Brian is going to get such a surprise.