Chapter 2

Sometimes, though not often, he had dreams and they were more painful than the dreams of other boys. For hours, he could not be separated from these dreams, though he wailed piteously in them. They had to do, I think, with the riddle of his existence.

J.M. Barrie

Ted finally listened to his messages while being driven to the station. Blake had left two. Both were mildly chastising Ted for not answering and both had the phrase, "we need to talk". Ted was irritated by Blake's calm, even tone. Ted secretly termed it his "rehab voice", since it was the one he used while counseling addicts, non-confrontational and conciliatory. After two years together, Ted loathed that voice. More importantly, Ted loathed that voice when it was used on him. Every time he heard it, he remembered sitting in the plastic chair at the rehab center while Blake led group therapy. It reminded him of the lowest parts in his life and he felt small and ashamed all over again.

The car stopped in front of the grand entrance of Kinney Track, giving Ted a small thrill, as it did every time. He was filled with self-importance. He had his own car and driver, a security detail, and a position of real power in the company. The driver opened his door for him and he took his time getting out of the car. He loved starting his day out this way. He stood on the sidewalk, appearing to adjust his overcoat, but really he was preening for whoever happened to be watching. Of course people are watching. I'm an important man. Everyone wants to be me.

Striding through the great glass doors the doorman was holding open, he was struck by the sheer audacity of his new office building. The overall flavor was still respectful of the original architecture and design, but Brian had been very careful in the decorating to make sure that it was not stuffy or overdone. The end result was cozily modern, invitingly sharp, and precise without appearing to be. Antiques mingled effortlessly with new pieces allowing traffic to flow while inviting conversations in the many seating groups. Ted was proud to walk in here every day and never used the employee entrance in the back. It satisfied his need to see and be seen.

Stopping at the large semi-circular admin desk in front of the staircase he noted that it was empty. Normally, there would be at least six people, dedicated to manning the phones and terminals, to assist Brian, Cynthia, and himself in whatever capacity they were needed. Ted wondered if they were all late for work and was determined that heads would roll if that was the case. Can't have laziness on the job. Anyone would be happy to replace them.

Upstairs in his office he hung up his coat and booted up his computer. He had an e-mail from Cynthia that was flagged as urgent. Opening it first, he swore under his breath.

Ted,

Meeting in my office, asap.

Cynthia

He couldn't stand it when she pulled stuff at the last minute. They were all responsible for scheduling meetings ahead of time, so everyone could coordinate their calendars, and he didn't like stuff coming up spontaneously. It was disruptive to the order he craved and maintained, especially at work. Pulling out a leather bound tablet, he made the journey to Cynthia's office on the other side of Brian's. Ted was figuring out how to word his complaint about it in his head, when he was stopped by a wall of bodies trailing out the door of where he needed to be.

Standing straighter and using his most authoritative voice he announced, "Stand aside, I need to be in here." People shuffled and swayed, eventually allowing him to pass through to stand near the windows. He could only see the top of Cynthia's honey blonde head in the crowd around her desk before she called the meeting to order.

"Everyone that can be seated, please do so, especially those in the front, as I would like to see as many faces as possible. Take the floor if you need to."

More shuffling and some curious murmurs ran around the room as it became evident this was not a normal meeting. There were people from art, legal, admin, and security present. At first glance, the room was filled to capacity with the top talent from every division of the company. Only one person was missing. Brian. Ted began to worry. What on earth could the woman be doing, with all of these people here, without Brian? He drew breath to challenge her with that very question, when Brian stepped into the door and leaned on the jamb. Silence fell over the crush. He just looked around the room and with his gaze ending on Cynthia, nodded his head.

She began "You are all here because you represent the best talent of your respective departments. A few are missing and I will make sure they are brought up to speed as soon as possible. A time has come, for us to depend on you in a way we have not yet had to do."

Brian straightened, bracing a hand on his hip. "I have some personal circumstances that I can no longer put on the back burner, and have asked Cynthia to call this meeting so everyone can hear directly from me, what I expect in my absence." Heads turned, looking to see if anyone else had the skinny on what was going on. Brian adopted a stern expression, speaking with all the authority of his position. "Every single one of you will work your ass off and do your best work, every day, just exactly as you have been doing since we got here. However, Cynthia is now in charge. Anything you would have brought to me, you now bring to her. If she feels I need to know, then I will. If you have any concerns in accounting, Theodore is your man, as Everett is for security. They will be the persons responsible for this company in my absence. Final decisions rest solely with Cynthia per my request. In these new circumstances, she is me, for all intents and purposes. All new accounts will come only through her for reasons I will not explain. Any disciplinary actions needed, will also come through her. I want no one to mistake me, SHE IS THE COMPANY, from this day forward and will be accorded the respect due the position." He then made sure to make eye contact with nearly everyone before finally settling on her face again. He gave her a barely perceptible nod and left.

She drew up to her full height, made eye contact as he had done, and said "For now, that will be all. I will be sending out a few new assignments by e-mail, and may do some personnel moves, however I expect few, if any, complaints on the matter so you are all dismissed. Ted, Everett, if you could stay please."

The room cleared in record time as everyone hurried back to quieter corners to discuss amongst themselves and those not present for the meeting, the curious events of the morning. Ted and Everett hung back, and when Cynthia walked out toting her electronic tablet, were relegated to following her like a couple of baby ducks, Ted irritated and Everett amused.

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Melanie was fixing a to-go cup of her favored blend as Lindsay snored lightly on the couch. A check on the guest room revealed Brian had already left, not having slept in the bed. She had a horrible thought that he and her wife had slept together on the couch and had to force back the bile that rose in her throat. She had never believed their relationship to be a healthy one, and having said so on many occasions, left her out of the circle of trust, firmly in the bad dyke role. She loved Lindsay, was sure it was reciprocated, and knew without a doubt, that where Brian was concerned, Lindsay had a blind spot a mile wide.

The aroma of the coffee and the sound of the machine brewing had Lindsay yawning and rubbing ferociously at her face. Sitting up and looking around, she was grateful that Melanie came to her rescue with a large mug. Nodding thanks, she closed bloodshot eyes and gripping the cup in both hands, leaning into the back of the couch, sipping slowly.

"So," Melanie sat on the coffee table, "What time did he leave?"

Lindsay didn't open her eyes before answering, "Uh, about four-thirty this morning."

"That early? Never known him to be an early riser." She pressed.

"He didn't have to get up, because we never went to bed." Lindsay needed to have a conversation with Melanie about Brian's request, but stubbornly refused to do it right now. "Look, Mel, I will tell you all about it, but not now. I need a shower and you need to go to work. There simply isn't enough time before you leave, to do this. So I'll arrange a sitter tonight for the kids and we'll talk about it then."

Melanie gave in, knowing that if she pushed the issue, Lindsay would go all WASPY on her and refuse to communicate at all, most specifically when it came to Brian. Pursing her lips, she stood and kissed her wife good bye, pretty sure she wouldn't like their evening.

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"I don't want to talk about it." Justin said, as he pushed his breakfast around on his plate.

"It's just his way. You know that. I really don't think it was deliberate." Michael's tone was soothing, but his eyes were begging Justin to reconsider.

"Thanks for not talking about it." Shit, now I'm starting to sound like Brian. "I love him, I have always loved him, but I can love him and not live with him, I want off of the roller coaster, Michael. I'm tired, of wondering what's going on in his head, of him shutting me out, of trying to guess what craziness is going to come next..." Justin trailed off.

"What do you mean, shutting you out?"

"I don't really know, I just feel like there is something he's not telling me. You know him, he refuses to admit when something is bothering him. This has been a long time coming, he's been pushing me away in small pieces for months and I just can't do it anymore." Justin slumped in his chair letting his fork clatter to his plate.

"But Brian..."

"I'm done talking about it. It's over."

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"Wait here please." Cynthia said as she left the two men standing outside of Brian's office and closed the door in their faces. Ted was a little peeved and about to say something to Everett, but kept it to himself when the other man leaned on the wall and began cleaning his nails with a penknife from his pocket.

Inside, Cynthia walked to Brian's desk, sitting in the empty chair in front, and waited for the conversation to include her. The man Brian was talking to was seated next to her and she recognized him as Brian's personal attorney, and not part of the legal staff for Kinnetik Corp. He was middle-aged and had the unfortunate name of Harry Pitts to go along with his thatch of carrot orange hair and freckly skin. He appeared frail, with his thin frame and wire-rimmed glasses, but she knew Brian trusted the man, and that was all that mattered to her.

He retrieved a thick sheaf of documents from his briefcase, setting them on the desk, and Brian leaned in to pick them up. "Everything here?" he asked as he tapped a finger on the arm of his chair.

"Yes sir. Everything you asked me for sewed up so tight I don't even think I could find a loophole." Harry's voice was much deeper and fuller than his body suggested it would be.

Standing up, Brian put a hand inside his suit jacket and came out with a very expensive pen. "Cynthia, if you don't mind, I'd like you to come around here." His arm gestured for her to sit in his chair.

She was confused, but didn't hesitate to do as he asked. Once there, she looked up at him and knew there was trouble afoot, by the devilish expression he wore. Both lips were pulled in and his dimples winked at her. He looked childishly happy, as he handed her the pen and leaned over her shoulder, bracing one hand on the desk. She glanced at the top page of the stack and the words "Partnership Contract" leapt at her.

Shaking her head dramatically she fairly shouted, "No way Brian, I'm not doing it. It's your baby, and I..."

Harry had seen all kinds of strange things in his business, but never someone that did not want to be a partner in such a huge corporation. He was riveted as Brian laid a hand on the back of her neck and kissed the side of her head. He whispered something in her ear and she listened intently, finally nodding, and with a deep breath and a steady hand, began to sign everywhere he had indicated. The whole process took nearly an hour, at the end of which she silently stood up and left, never looking back.

Ted peeked through the now open door "You wanted to see us, Boss?"

Brian gestured for them to sit on the sofa as Harry stowed Cynthia's paperwork and pulled out others, handing some to each man as they sat.

"These are your new work contracts, with expanded responsibilities, pay raises, and limitations. You are allowed to hire qualified individuals to fill any current or future needs that Mr. Kinney's departure may require so long as they meet the security qualifications we have in place and any additional ones that Everett feels necessary. Certain measures are being taken in order to protect the company, which will not be explained. If you choose not to sign, no hard feelings, you will find a severance document towards the back of your papers."

Brian watched as Everett wasted no time signing his contract. Ted was reading his, so he went to the sidebar and made four glasses of whiskey. Carrying two back, he handed one to Harry and one to Everett. The older man narrowed his eyes and got up to walk back to the sidebar with Brian. Standing close, his words barely heard, he said "If this is what you gave us, what did you give Cynthia? The whole fucking company?" he chuckled.

Brian downed his shot and poured another. He clinked glasses with Everett, and nodded just once in affirmation with merriment evident in his hazel green eyes.

Everett was stunned. "Shit, how'd you get her to take it? Never mind, I'd bet the look on her face was priceless. Man, I wish I could have seen it. It's not often that woman gets rattled, ya know?"

Brian didn't respond right away, just looked at Everett's face. The security man's gray eyes hinted at interest in his new partner and Brian hoped he was brave enough to act on it. "Mmmm, even more priceless is when she is speechless." he said cryptically. He saw Ted sign his contract so he carried the man's drink over, smirking at the way Ted chugged it down.

"To give you the gist, I need to leave for a while. I'll be around for the next month or so, so everyone can become accustomed to the new arrangements. After that, the only person able to reach me will be Cynthia." Everett's grin split his face, baring perfect teeth. Ted squirmed in agitation. "But Brian," he began.

"Before you two walked in here, Ted, she signed her partnership agreement. She is now acting CEO of KInnetik Corp. Get behind it, or get gone." He shook Harry's hand and thanked him for the work while walking him out of the office.

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Emmett slept late, took a leisurely shower, and was standing in the open door of the refrigerator when his cell started to play "The Imperial March" from Star Wars, signaling an incoming call from Brian. Sashaying in his underwear to where he left his bag, he rummaged for the phone.

"What can I do for the Wicked Witch of the East, this morning?" he said by way of greetings.

"It's noon cocksucker. Be at the airport in two hours, you're coming to New York for the weekend." Brian told him.

Emmett rolled his eyes, "I have plans this weekend, I can't just drop everything and come running. What do I tell my clients?"

"Uh, tell them you have a case of gonorrhea? I don't give a shit, just get here."

Emmett glared at the phone but Brian had already gone.

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Justin was making himself at home in Daphne's apartment, scoring a cola and lighting up. She let him be, knowing he would talk about it when he was ready, and that it almost certainly involved Brian. Justin's whole adult life had revolved around the man and she wasn't sure it was a good thing. When Justin had called and asked if he could stay with her, she'd automatically agreed. It was a sure bet that drama would ensue, but that was okay. They were best friends and she'd missed him.

"I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to your show." She started, hoping to draw him out.

"It's all right Daph, you didn't miss much." He wandered around looking at different things, obviously thinking about something else.

"So, how long do you think you'll be here?" She asked lightly.

"A week or two. Just till I can find a place of my own." He gave a half-hearted smile and checked his phone for the seventh time since he walked in.

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It's too final. Like he doesn't plan on coming back. Cynthia's mind swirled in a miasma of doubt and trepidation. She ate some antacids and tried to work, but her mind kept going over their meeting. I am trusting you to protect everything that matters to me, the paperwork is to legally make sure that you can. Sign the damn contract, so I don't have to worry about you. He had whispered when she had balked. Soshe signed. It was the least of what she felt she owed him.

She looked at her pretty, antique clock and noted the day was over half gone already. It was three in the afternoon and she was no closer to being done with the multitude of things on her list for today. Looking up as Brian walked in, she could see how tired he was. He had his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and his tie was absent. Flopping into her guest chair, he sprawled out and closed his eyes.

"Go away." She hissed.

"Shhh. I'm hiding. Ted's been following me around asking if the cancer is back and all kinds of stupid shit. He wouldn't dare come in here after me. You scare him." He barked out a short laugh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, he'll just have to get over it, won't he?" Cynthia was impatient with the interruption.

"After I'm gone, you should move him back to Pittsburgh. Give him control of that branch."

"Why don't you? You're still here."

"Because he will see it as a step up, as a token of appreciation, others will see it as punishment, and it will drive the point home for everyone that you, and only you, are making the decisions. Good, bad or ugly. You then become the boss for real. A little bit of theater, but necessary." He had obviously been thinking about it and she accepted that he was right again. Dammit.

"Fine, I'll send Jacobson with him so I can keep tabs on every move he makes. Hopefully he won't do something crazy."

"Good call, Boss Lady, now come with me." He rose and tugged her hand until she followed him. Peeking out the door to make sure he would not be seen, he winked at her and crossed to his office, locking them in.

"This is the last business of the day for both of us, since we are going to cut out early. Movers are coming tomorrow. You are taking this office, relegating yours to the army of admins I'm sure you are going to need to do all the things you will no longer be handling. It is your call what furniture you want to keep or store."

"Brian, I just got settled into mine, why would I move?" It made no sense to her. It was his office and she knew she would feel like a trespasser every time she was in it without him.

He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, scooping up the binoculars, and leading her to the windows. Handing them to her he pointed in the direction of the studio. She put them up to her eyes and looking through them, she could see most of the interior work space of the building. He leaned into her, placing a hand in the middle of her back saying "You need this office, to keep an eye on what matters to me."

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Emmett disembarked the jet, still trying to get a hold of Ted, hoping to catch up with him over the weekend. He had no idea where he was going, so assumed the driver of the car had the details. He figured he would work on his tablet during the drive.

"Aren't you The Queer Guy?" The driver asked.

He raised his head and nodded. She wore the dark uniform well and it coordinated sharply with her pitch black hair, which was cut in a smart pageboy, accenting classic good looks. Dark brown eyes, winged brows, and full lips made her casually pretty. She had deep olive skin that spoke of her Mediterranean ancestry and white curlicues of a tattoo peeked above her collar, to her ear.

"My name is Lara, by the way, and I'm to be your driver while you're in town." She smiled at him in the mirror.

"I'm not anymore. The Queer Guy I mean." Emmett returned her smile. "Do you happen to know of a good, gay dance club?" He asked and was puzzled by her guffaw of laughter until she said, "You should ask the Boss, he owns half a dozen."

Emmett raised a brow and quipped "Ya don't say."

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Six o'clock found Brian, Cynthia, and Emmett at a high top in an Irish pub named Rocks, discussing everything about nothing while Brian out drank them two to one. He was not yet completely inebriated, but was certainly feeling no pain.

"Emmett, I have a proposal." He tried lighting his cigarette twice, failing comically.

"I thought you didn't believe in marriage" Emmett lit it for him and Brian pinched his cheek a little too hard in retaliation.

"I want you to work for me here." His head rolled a bit and his eyes were glassy, causing Cynthia some concern.

"I have a job, sweetie, and I appreciate the offer...."

"No, no, no, I want to buy into your business and I want you to move it here. You can use one of my, I mean our, restaurants until the hotel is finished. Then, use it for your headquarters. You can run the whole damn place if you like." He could not seem to focus on his glass.

"Brian, you're drunk and don't know what you're saying." Emmett cajoled.

"I'm not drunk!" Brian was petulant, a sure sign. "Just promise to hear me out tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure thing, honey, whatever you want." Emmett declared, knowing Brian would not give up.

Brian saw Everett come into the bar, gave Emmett the "hey, look over there" eye, and saw the appreciation come over the face of his comrade.

"My, my, he's a tall drink of water. You know him?"

"Yep" Brian said as he linked arms with Emmett, drawing him to his feet. "He's Special Forces, my head of security, aaannnddd Cynthia's date." He said the last with a mocking leer aimed at her, while she gaped at him. She had been set up and now she knew it. He kissed her cheek with a loud smack and hauled Emmett to the door, giving Everett a mock bow as they passed.

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Michael and Ben drove Justin to the country house, after Michael closed the store, in their new SUV. It was so new that Justin had to smile as Michael played with all the buttons while extolling on its upgrades. He grew more nervous as the miles passed, not knowing what he would find at the big house. He had really wanted to live there with Brian, making a life together, away from the city. Empty, since they had called off the wedding, he wanted a last look before letting that dream die. Ben parked in the driveway, in front of the entry.

Justin fished the tooled leather fob, with its single key, from his pocket and let them in. His companions spent several minutes taking in the grandeur. He imagined he must have had the same expression of disbelief when Brian had brought him here the first time, the only time. The day he proposed and they had loved in front of the fireplace. It had been a brief glimpse of a future they could have had.

"Wow, I mean, you told us it was grand, but this? This is, WOW." Ben was rarely at a loss for words, and Justin could appreciate the sentiment.

"Holy shit." Michael's eyes were as big as saucers. "I think it's bigger than Wayne Manor. Does it have a bat-cave?"

"I don't think so, but I've never seen the whole house, so I guess there could be." Justin wandered to the parlor and its furniture covered in ghostly shrouds. He ran a hand along the mantle and the windowsill much as he had done that day two years ago. His stomach lurched at the thought. Two years. Why did he keep it? He hates the country.

Ben and Michael stayed quiet, as if speech would break the spell of reverie that Justin seemed to be under. They stood together near the wall as he wandered around the room, stopping to touch things, or pick them up only to put them back down. Eventually he ended up with his hands in his pockets, staring into the empty fireplace, and a glance at each other had them retreating to the entryway, giving him some privacy.

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Brian led Emmett through what seemed a never ending series of doors and hallways, giving the southerner an unrestricted view of Brian in his club clothes. Dark slim fitting jeans (that hugged every curve), black Gucci half boots with no heel, and a raw silk shirt in midnight blue with the top three buttons undone and the sleeves rolled above his elbow. He often thought the man should have been a model, or a stripper, since everything (and Nothing) looked so good on him.

Emmett felt the music thump in his chest as they neared what he hoped was the final door. Brian opened it with a flourish and a bow, startling the bouncer on the other side. The full impact of the music hit both men, each pausing for a moment to savor what always felt like a homecoming. Snagging the felt- tipped marker from the bouncer's shirt pocket, Brian signed his name on Emmett's exposed collarbone.

"You want anything, just have one of the employees black light you. No charge." Brian's wicked leer had Emmett clapping happily.

"Aww, aren't you sweet. Guess being the boss has its perks, huh?" He gave Brian a huge smile and waggled his hips and eyebrows suggestively.

"Save it for the boys, Emmy-Lou." Brian laughed while heading for the bar.

They ordered drinks, (Cosmo and Beam), casually leaned against the bar, scoping out the action on the dance floor. Brian made quick work of cutting a young buck from the herd, tossing "Be back in 7" over his shoulder, heading to the back room for his first blow job of the night.

"Some things never change." Emmett said aloud, to no one in particular.

"He'll be back, though you're not exactly his type" said a voice from his left.

Emmett turned while sipping his drink, almost choking on it when presented with the face (body) that owned it. "Oh, we're just old friends." He said to the Shirtless, Wet Dream.

"Good." Wet Dream replied. "Wanna dance?"

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Melanie loaded the dishwasher as Lindsay put away the leftover food. Dinner had been awkward with Lindsay's forced happy conversation about nothing, and Melanie not falling for it. With the cleanup finished Melanie decided that enough was enough and said so.

"Stop stalling Linds."

The blonde tucked hair behind her ears and smoothed her sweaty hands on the thighs of her jeans as she sat at the table. She picked at a loose thread on the placemat saying "Brian wants me to have a baby."

Melanie could not hide the shock she felt. "What on earth makes him think we want another kid? We planned two and we have two. Jenny starts preschool next year, and why would he think he could make that decision for us anyway? The answer is no." She was pissed off that Lindsay was even considering it.

"Mel," Lindsay said in a placating tone "it would not be our baby. It would be his." She let that bomb drop and picked at the thread, while the implications sank in.

"I would be a surrogate, nothing more. Women do it all the time." She rationalized.

"No, Lindsay, there are other things to consider. Health care, and your job, not to mention what kind of parents the two of them will make. Out fucking and sucking all night. I don't think so." She rolled her eyes, shook her head, as she became more resolved in her denial.

"I know, but who are we to judge? My parents didn't think we should have kids, because we're lesbians, is it any less wrong for us to judge Brian for his life?" She hated that her voice sounded pleading, even to her own ears.

Melanie stared at her for a moment before asking "How does Justin feel about it? He's just getting his career started, how does he feel about midnight feedings and ear infections? A baby would certainly cramp their style." She chuckled at her own humor.

"I don't honestly know how Justin would feel, since I didn't talk to him and neither did Brian. Justin left him, Mel."

"So, what, now he wants a baby to replace his boy toy? That's rich."

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"So how does it feel to be partner?" Everett asked to break the ice. They had been sitting in stilted silence for exactly four minutes and he couldn't take it anymore.

Figuring the subject was safe enough Cynthia said "Not much different than before. We have always been a team."

Everett could tell there was something hidden in that statement and pressed on. "Really? How long is always?" It was fascinating to watch as she schooled her features into nonchalance and he caught the hint of remembered sadness when she spoke. "Just...always." She made direct eye contact with him, daring him to push for more, and though he was up for the challenge, he let it be, not wanting her to have a reason to end their date. I will get my answers...in time.

"Alright, consider the subject dropped, for now." He treated her with his most charming smile.

"I'll just bet that smile gets you into more panties than I could count, or you can remember, doesn't it." She smirked, as the barb hit.

"Yes ma'am it does. As I'm sure you're aware, being in big business and all, a charming smile can do more than a bunch of pretty words ever could." He leaned forward on the table and gave her another one until a mild blush colored her cheeks. She leaned in as well, until their faces were merely inches apart, tapped her beer bottle to his in a toast, and murmured "Touche'."

He gave her credit for her brazenness as he resumed a relaxed position in his seat and she did the same. Narrowing his eyes at her, he asked, "Does it bother you?"

She laughed, "The amount of panties you've been in? Or that you can't remember them?"

"My age." He blurted, and it was his turn to blush and Cynthia saw what a touchy subject it was for him. He looked at ease. Like he did not really care what her answer was, but he watched for her reaction intently and sipped his beer. It's more important than he admits.

"No, I can't say that it does." She offered, and by way of explanation, followed with "I too, have had my share of lovers and don't want to be judged for the quantity. I appreciate men in general, and good -looking men as a rule." She gestured his direction appreciatively. "I have no parameters for age, color, race, or social standing when I want a good time, which is frequently and without complications. Does that bother you?"

He shook his head "No, in fact I find it...titillating, and somewhat challenging." She raised her brows in question and he offered, "There is a lot to be said for experience. In life, in love, and..."

"in sex." She finished for him, humored by his openness.

"That too." He conceded huskily.

They sat in silence for a few moments, in tune with each other in a way neither had expected. When the waitress returned, asking if they needed another beer, Everett wordlessly deferred to Cynthia, letting her decide if the date was over. He was weirdly proud of her when she looked him dead in the eye and ordered another round.

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Brian leaned against the wall in the near darkness of the back room getting his cock sucked. Other men were paired or grouped around him in various stages of undress/copulation. Moans of pleasure, flesh slapping flesh, and dirty talk, floated in the air like the odor of mixed colognes and sweat. Back rooms are all the same, so are the tricks. Brian had difficulty getting his head (pun intended) into what was going on with his dick. He ran a hand through the dark hair of the man currently trying to get him off, but was unsatisfied with the texture. Not the same. It upset him on some base level. Glancing down, he met the eyes of the kneeling youngster and instead of seeing the guys green ones, he imagined blue. SHIT! His mind flashed with varying images of Justin in the same position causing his dick to swell even more. Green Eyes took it as a sign he was doing well and went at it with more gusto causing Brian to get even more irritated. It shouldn't take this long. Justin would have had me begging by now. Christ! The man could get me off like no one else. Using hands and lips and tongue to drive me crazy, especially when he wanted something he didn't think I'd give him. He was close to coming just thinking about it, and that realization hit him like a sucker punch.

Well and truly pissed now, and wishing to drive Justin from his brain, he said aloud "Who's got tabs?" and disembodied hands came into view, full of drugs. He replaced a few with cash and snapped at Green Eyes because he had stopped sucking. "You need more practice. Get back to it." He dry swallowed the pills and shrugged when the man told him to fuck off then left him standing there. Not one to waste a boner, Brian took matters into his own hand, literally, finally getting his rocks off while the drugs kicked in and Justin danced in his head.

Weaving his way through the crowd, he raised a hand at the bartender who had his drink ready and waiting for him by the time he made it to the bar. Knocking it back, relishing the burn, he scanned the crowd for Emmett. Indicating a refill, he asked the bartender, Dan, if he had seen Emmett. "Not since you dropped him and he hit the dance floor with Jerome." He said, moving off to wait on other patrons.

Jerome was a sleaze, but he paid his membership dues on time, and did not cause trouble. Brian drank his latest shot and moved through the dancing bodies until he bumped into Emmett who seemed to be having a good time.

"Dance with me." He said to Emmett, as he cut between him and Jerome, who was about to complain but quickly changed his mind when Brian focused all of his loathing on him and so melted into the crowd.

"Bri-an," Emmett whined, "I was saving him for later."

"Don't bother, the guy's a douche."

The music blasted as they danced, invitations came and went, but both men were content. They danced for a long time, until sweat soaked their shirts and thirst drove them from the dance floor. Ordering a couple bottles of water, Emmett turned to pass one to Brian and was just in time to see him hit the floor. He bent down, to see what the problem was, as one of the huge bouncers appeared out of nowhere. Brian tried to stand, not even making it to sitting, and fell back again. Emmett leaned in closer when Brian fisted a hand in his shirt and pulled.

"Get...me....outta here." He slurred then went limp.

Emmett and the bouncer locked eyes over Brian's body. The big man's badge identified him as Kurtis Kollie and Emmett was a little put- off by the fact that the man was texting while his boss was out cold on the floor.

"Um, excuse me, I hate to interrupt your social life, but as you can see, my friend here is in need of some assistance." Emmett was working himself into a fine snit, but Kurtis cut him off.

"Yes sir, I just arranged for his car to be brought around so we can get you two on your way. I'm certain he wouldn't want a scene. Well, not this one anyway." So saying, he hefted Brian up, indicating for Emmett to follow, and led the way to the exit.

*************************************************************************************

Ted waved to the security guard in the lobby as he left the station and climbed into the waiting sedan. He had been the last to leave for the day, which suited his mood just fine. He wanted no conversations or interactions, he just wanted to unwind. A Verdi opera, maybe, on the stereo and a nice glass of wine to relax and let the events of the day ruminate so he could pick it apart, to find out how he didn't see it coming. He was not surprised that Brian had made Cynthia a partner, but was a teeny little bit miffed that he, himself, had not been chosen as well. His new contract stated in legal jargon what his duties were now, and to be frank, it was no different than he had already been doing. The exception being, a non-disclosure agreement and his new salary. He was happy with the raise, considering it his due, but was more than a little freaked out by Brian's irreverence when Ted pressed for information for the changes. His first thought when his boss had said it was for personal reasons, had been a recurrence of cancer. Brian had denied it and all other lines of questioning until finally hiding out in Cynthia's office. No doubt making their plans to leave work early. Ted was slightly bitter that he was not invited.

The last thing he expected was to find Blake standing in the lobby of his apartment building. Fuck!

Blake had that concerned, sympathetic look on his face that drove Ted crazy. He saw it as Blake thinking he was a lost soul in need of redirection to the right path. It was that look, that instant, that Ted accepted their relationship had ended. He could no longer look or think about the man, without negativity. Ted assumed it would be best to get it over with quickly, like ripping off a bandage, and held up his hand to stop the flow of a lecture before it began.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back, and even sorrier that you felt you needed to come here. The fact of the matter is, you and I both know it is over. I hope you can forgive me for not ending it sooner, but I believe that this could never have ended any other way."

Ted did not give him the opportunity to say anything by entering the elevator alone, feeling lighter than he had in months.

Blake asked the doorman to hail him a cab and stood with his hand in his coat pocket rubbing the box that held a promise, the question still burning on his lips.

*************************************************************************************

Melanie struggled to keep it together, stay as calm as possible, through Lindsay's pro-baby diatribe for over an hour. She tried to keep her hands busy to hide the shaking, and managed, just barely, to keep her tongue in- check while Lindsay followed from room to room, relentless in her pursuit of Brian's agenda. By only half-listening to her words, Melanie suddenly became cognizant of the tone. In a moment of crystal clarity, she rounded on her spouse with barely suppressed venom.

"YOU want this baby, don't you? Not because Brian wants it, oh no," she pointed her finger in Lindsay's face, "YOU want it because it's Brian's baby." She accused.

Lindsay reddened, "I really don't see what the difference is, Mel. Care to enlighten me?" She asked in her best WASPY attitude.

"Oh I don't think I will. Just understand one thing. If you put his wants, or yours, before me and the kids, I will make sure you both regret it."

Later, while Lindsay slept, Melanie made sure her position was clear, by sending Brian a text, a short and simple "no", from her number. She figured he would call, for an explanation, or give them the silent treatment. Either outcome worked for her.

*************************************************************************************

Everett was enjoying Cynthia's company immensely. She was a damn walking contradiction. He knew she was attracted to him, she'd proved that much, but he couldn't figure out why she seemed to be denying herself. She flirted shamelessly, was comfortable with almost every topic of conversation, but when he alluded to them having an affair, she would subtly retreat. He was just about to broach the subject when his phone emitted a double ring.

They both stood to leave as he answered, knowing the signal meant priority one. Brian was in trouble, and Everett was to come immediately. Reading the text message, he offered to take Cynthia home before going to Brian's, but she declined.

Everett was torn between doing his job, and not wanting the evening with her to be over. She let him off the hook by kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear, "Another time."

*************************************************************************************

The elevator door opened into a short hallway furnished in exquisite taste. Emmett pegged it for Brian's style immediately. Hauling the man's legs was harder than he thought due to their considerable length and limpness. He juggled them a bit and was grateful he did not have Brian's top half. Noah, the driver, had a grip under each arm and they finally, comically, managed to get him into the apartment and somewhat on the couch. Face down, left arm twisted over the small of his back, and both limbs on his right side hanging to the floor.

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't think I can carry him again." Noah panted, out of breath.

So was Emmett, "s'all right. Maybe I'll just" he dragged in air "roll him to the floor."

They gave each other cheeky grins, reaching for Brian to do just that, when the sound of the elevator arriving put Noah on alert. He automatically scanned the room, walked over to stand behind the open door, out of sight, and pulled a wicked looking knife from his boot, all in less than five seconds. Emmett did not know if he should stay where he was, impressed, or run screaming from the room in fear.

The scale tipped to the stay category upon seeing the handsome man from the bar emerge from the elevator and stop in the middle of the hallway. He called out "Hot or cold pie?" To which Noah responded "Cold" and left his post behind the door. The two men had a short conversation in the hall, spoken in undertones and code that Emmett was sure he would never understand. Everett patted the younger man on the shoulder once and sent him off.

Entering the room, Everett closed the door and locked it, checked the windows, and made a quick circuit of the entire apartment before coming to see Brian.

"Well that's a fuckin' mess I thought I would never see." Everett sagged a little.

Emmett snickered, "Being military, I would think you had seen more that your fair share of drunken shenanigans."

"Sure, and been a part of them. Rights of passage and whatnot." Everett winked. "But this," he gestured at Brian, "I'd never have thought it. I've been out drinking with him on many occasions and never, ever, have I seen him too drunk to function, let alone pass out in public. I mean, the man drinks all day. I don't get it."

Emmett was quiet for a moment. "Come to think of it, you're right. I haven't either. All the years I've known him, this is a first." Concern crept onto his face.

"Step one, let's get him in bed." Everett squatted with his back to the front of the couch, pulled the trailing limbs over his shoulders, wedging himself under Brian's ribcage. Hooking an arm behind his knee and using that hand to grasp Brian's, he stood and "rescue carried" his still unconscious partner to his bedroom and carefully laid him out.

"Step two, wrestle him out of his clothes." Everett reached for shoes first.

Emmett laughed and said "Under normal circumstances, you'd have to wrestle him into his clothes."

Getting the joke, Everett grinned and removed socks. "Give me a hand with his overcoat?"

Emmett nodded, taking the cuff of the sleeve and holding it up, letting gravity help Everett remove Brian's arm. Once free, Everett climbed on the bed next to him, reached over Brian's torso and used the freed arm and a hand placed on his hip to pull him over onto his stomach and thus releasing his other arm and the coat from underneath his body.

"Wow, you're a real pro, huh?" Emmett admired.

"Yeah, lots of practice." As weird as it might seem, Everett was having a little bit of fun. He liked Emmett, who was now unbuttoning the shirt, so he took hold of the belt in order to remove Brian's pants. All hell broke loose when Brian's eyes snapped open and he started yelling, "Take your fucking dirty hands off of me motherfucker!" while trying to crawl to the opposite side of the bed, talking and cursing to himself. Emmett was about to say something but Brian cut loose with another tirade that made no sense as he stumbled around the room, bumping into walls and landing again on the bed, hateful words flowing out of his mouth like a river. Emmett was hurt that his friend would say things like that to him, was going to leave, go to a hotel, and turned to Everett. The man was ghost white and watching Brian like a hawk. Emmett finally caught his eye and together they moved just outside the doorway.

"It's PTSD. I've seen it before." Everett said, with no small amount of gravity.

"You mean he's done this before?" Emmett was shocked.

"No, I mean I've seen the outbursts from other people. What did he take tonight?"

"Uh, nothing. He drank a lot, and we danced but..." Emmett shook his head in the negative and watched as Everett texted Kurtis to see if he knew anything about it. Brian's shouts were soon punctuated by crashing furniture and breaking glass. Both men glanced at the door and Everett said, "Under no circumstances are you to try and wake him."

Emmett was confused. "He is awake, he's in there throwing things."

"No he isn't. It's kind of like sleep walking. He's awake, but he is not conscious of what he is saying or doing, and likely won't remember any of it." He checked his phone and let out a muttered stream of expletives. "Kurtis says some guys from the back room confirmed drugs. Several different kinds in fact, and he..."

"Wait," Emmett interrupted. "Brian doesn't mix drugs, and rarely takes any when he drinks that much."

"Well, he did tonight." Everett got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he remembered watching the security feed from the studio. "Shit, you don't think he was..." He couldn't even bring himself to say it.

"What?" Emmett was bordering on real fear now, only enhanced by the look of dread on Everett's face. He demanded an answer.

"Justin left him. You don't think he would...try to kill himself, do you?" He hated that he even had to ask.

"Brian? No way. He loves his life, he was talking tonight about me moving here...besides, Justin is always...."

They both rushed back into the bedroom when they heard a loud thunk, a groan, and then silence. Brian was on the floor, unconscious again, blood running from his nose. Emmett wet a towel in the bathroom and came back as Everett was trying to get a pair of cutoff sweatpants on him. Sitting him upright, braced between them, they handled the nosebleed while Brian muttered unintelligibly under his breath. Everett lifted Brian's lids to check his pupils, not surprised to find him higher than a kite. They laid him back and Emmett fussed with the covers for a few minutes and settled on the side of the bed, not sure what to do next.

"You can leave, if you need to. I've got him." Everett offered when he realized how traumatic it had been for Emmett to see his friend like this.

Not sure why, Emmett said "No, thank you" as he stroked Brian's hand. "I think I'll stay."

*************************************************************************************

He knew the nightmares were coming for him, as he fought sleep. Have to stay awake. They can't get me if I stay awake. My head hurts! Who's there!? Someone is talking about me, I can't hear them. Justin's face telling him he was leaving, why does he always leave me? Why am I not enough? Everybody always left. Except Cynthia.

His body was bruised, cut, and in some places still bleeding. Have to get her out. I didn't know it was going to be like this. It's too much for a little boy that's not a little boy anymore. Get your filthy fucking hands off me motherfucker. Stop touching me, I hate you!

The little boy curled into himself and cried while telling himself to be quiet or the nightmares would come. The monsters in the darkness that make sleep impossible. Sneaking out of the house, so no one could hear him cry. Hurt, everything hurt. There was no escaping the pain. Just distraction. Wanting to hurt someone else as bad as I was hurting. Didn't know my ribs were broken that time. Should have waited till I was better. Missy said she'd help. Said I could bring her. Don't get caught, it'll be bad if you get caught.

For some reason the belt hurt worse than his fists. Left welts of fire when it landed. Why doesn't mom love me anymore? She used too. What did I do? Was I a bad boy? Mommy?!

The belt morphed into a bat. JUSTIN! He ran. No stopping it. Blood everywhere, can't make it stop. NO,NO,NO! GOD! He's gonna die, can't let him die. Love him, don't tell him. It will hurt worse. Should have told him, so he knew before he died. My fault, my fault, my fault...

Emmett had been sweeping the glass from the floor while Everett stood to the side making calls, speaking quietly. Brian's muttering had turned into words that they could hear, though make no sense of as he alternately curled into himself and thrashed out. He held his ribs protectively shaking his head. They listened as he called for his mother, said he hated someone, screamed Justin's name at the top of his lungs. Spoke in the voice of a child asking if he was a bad boy, my fault my fault my fault.

Emmett sobbed, heart in shreds, he could only imagine happened to that little boy. He wanted to fix it, make it better, was afraid to know. Everett wiped at the tears running down his cheeks and sniffed. He had seen bad cases before, but nothing like this. It became real for Everett that Brian's trauma was not linked to a specific event or time-frame. His whole life, his whole fucking life has been trauma. Emmett made the excuse of putting the broom away to leave the room. Everett followed, leaving the door cracked open, just in case.

In the kitchen, Emmett disposed of the glass and put the broom back in the pantry. He could still hear Brian shouting and covered his ears, hoping to shut out the sound, forget what he had heard. Everett found him that way, felt terrible, and without thought embraced him. The comfort gave Emmett permission to let go and he spent the next several minutes crying, not knowing any other way to cope. Finally pulling himself together, he was determined to do whatever he could to help.

"Thanks. I'm okay now."

Everett took in the wan complexion, red nose, and shaking hands and thought, no you're not, but kept it to himself. The man had grit, if nothing else. "Sure you don't want to leave? I wouldn't blame you."

"I'm not going anywhere. Just tell me what to do." Emmett blew his nose, stood straighter. He may be queer, but he was going to prove he was a fighter too.

Everett saw the resolve, nodded once, and said "Okay, but it will get harder, before it gets better."

Two men, brought together by circumstance, reentered the lair, of the beast that was Brian Kinney.

*************************************************************************************

The older boys on the team made fun of his scrawny build, but the girls watched him with greedy smiles. He was smart and his tests proved it. He was good at the game, but being the youngest on the team made him a target for bullies. Coach only stopped the beatings when he threatened to tell about what they had done in the shower.

His Mom screamed at him for telling her he was not gonna go to church anymore and she couldn't make him. He had provoked the beating that time, because he knew she would not force him to go if he had visible injuries.

An old man, rail thin for lack of food, in a shitty apartment teaching him how to defend himself and eventually to fight back. "If you gotta fight, kid, fight dirty. They sure as hell ain't gonna follow rules."

Missy's big bosom pressing into his face as she hugged him close, telling him he had to go away. He wasn't old enough to make the rules yet, but some day he would be. Someday he would make them all pay, but for now he had to go.

Stumbling through alleys so they wouldn't be seen, carrying the little girl on his back so she didn't cut up her bare feet, feeling the edges of his broken ribs abrade, giving her to Missy as she called him an angel.

Setting a lit match, to the gasoline he had poured, to hide the fact that he had stolen the treasure. They watched the flames rise, engulf the building, only leaving when they heard the sirens nearing.

Blue eyes...blue eyes....always blue eyes. It's only time.

*************************************************************************************

Everett had been right, it did get worse. Emmett had expected more raging and swearing, was now wishing for it. It was easier to deal with than the tortured, gut wrenching sobs that had gripped Brian for the last two hours. He could not take it anymore and moved to lay down with his friend. Everett stopped him, telling him that it could cause more violence, but he didn't listen.

Emmett slowly lowered himself to the bed, carefully easing his way closer to Brian. Everett took the other side in a similar manner gently laying a hand on his arm. Bloodshot eyes cracked open in a thin line and Emmett opened his arms. Brian looked over his shoulder at the person touching him and scooted closer to Emmett, laying his head on his friend's chest as he curled against his side. Pulling the hand on his arm, until Everett was snugged up behind him and his arm was over Brian and Emmett, he wasted no time falling into a more relaxed sleep. Emmett and Everett shared a grateful look, over tousled and sweaty hair. Neither would be moving for a long time, and that was okay.

*************************************************************************************

After dinner at Debbie's house Ben, Michael and Carl sat in the living room discussing Ben's interview, how badly it had turned out, with Debbie giving her opinion from the kitchen as she put food away. Michael and Carl gave platitudes that it was not as bad as Ben thought, admitting it could have gone better, but was not catastrophic as some of her other interviews had been. Trying to change the subject for Ben's sake, Michael said "Justin is looking for a place to stay, do you know of anything around here?"

"Why isn't he staying at the loft?" Debbie asked.

Ben replied, "Seems Justin left Brian over some kind of write up in the paper".

"I saw what that asshole said about his art. I'd be pissed too. But what does that have to do with Brian?" She squawked.

Michael rolled his eyes, "Seems Brian sent in a reply that Justin took exception to".

Carl offered, "You would think, after all they've been through, they'd be able to move past petty stuff like that".

Michael shook his head, as his mother said, "Fucking drama queens, both of them. Maybe they need to be apart."

The conversation rolled on to other things, kids, jobs, and retirement for Carl. Debbie finally joined them and announced that she and Carl would be taking a cruise, all thoughts of breakups and interviews forgotten as they weighed the merits of several exotic destinations.

*************************************************************************************

Several rages and their inevitable lapses into inhuman sobs, had left Brian physically exhausted, so much so, he finally managed a dreamless slumber around three forty-five in the morning. His companions, seeing the peace they had begged for, felt comfortable enough to leave him alone for a short time and left the bedroom. They took turns in the bathroom, ambled on tired legs to the living room, and sank into opposite ends of the sofa. Neither spoke, the open bottle of Beam on the coffee table promised oblivion and absolution. Everett retrieved two short glasses and the broom. Setting the glasses on the table, he swept up the broken shards of a bottle that had been shattered on the wall. Emmett poured, then shrugged and swigged from the bottle for good measure.

"Didn't think you'd make it back there." Everett said as he picked up the dustpan of glass.

"Why, because I'm queer?" Emmett snarked. His emotions were running high, so his patience was running very low.

"No. Because I thought you were soft. Superficial maybe. I was wrong, I'm sorry." He left with his supplies and came back with another bottle, setting it next to the almost empty first, and sagged into the sofa rubbing his hands harshly over his face and scratching at the stubble now lining his jaw.

Emmett was not sure if he should say something about Brian, but his own emotions made the choice for him. To accept, he had to give it a voice and knowing it was a bitter pill. Leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees, he let his glass dangle from his fingers.

"Some of us, queers I mean, never get to come out of a closet, since we never had the option of being in one to begin with, like me." He gave a sardonic smile that never reached his eyes. "It forces you to be brave, before you should have to be, and you get judged and bullied on a daily, sometimes hourly basis. If you are fortunate, your family loves you, if you're not so fortunate, you may be able to make a friend to tell your troubles to. They may not understand, but maybe they are willing to listen, make life bearable. Get you through the shit you're sure will break you. That was my childhood." He finished his glass and opened the new bottle to pour another. Tears fell onto the back of his arm, "But that," he gestured with his glass to the bedroom, the amber liquid sloshed in protest, "that..." his lips quivered and his words trembled, "that has got to be, the most horrible thing I have ever seen, or heard, in my life." They toasted that sentiment with another shot. Everett surmised that Emmett had had no clue about any of it. He was too tired to lie, let alone play games, so repeated his earlier question.

"Given what you know now, do you think he would do it?"

Emmett's mouth drew down into a frown while he considered, "I don't know. I do know that, if it had been me, I'd have never made it to high school."

Everett watched as Emmett slid to his side and drifted off.

*************************************************************************************

The modest two- story brownstone in the sedate upper-middle class neighborhood was nothing like Everett had expected. No flash or extravagance in sight. It was half past five in the morning and the sky looked like it might snow. Gathering his pea coat closer, he used a gloved finger to ring the doorbell. A couple minutes passed while he watched his breath turn to fog as it left his body. He rang the bell again, this time holding it down for several seconds, longer than would be considered polite, by even the rudest person on the planet. A light went on behind the curtain in the door and he saw her peek out at him. He heard several locks turn, until she finally opened the door wearing a bathrobe and slippers.

Anyone other than Cynthia, would have read nothing on his face, he was that good. But, she had seen those eyes before, in everyone who cared enough to know the truth, including herself. She opened the door a little further in invitation and he stepped in, accused "You knew". Closing the door, she leaned back on it, crossing her arms, she met his eyes and said "And now, so do you".

She turned locks again, all four of them and offered, "I'll make some coffee, tell you what I can, but only my part. The rest is his to tell".