“Get me the barbecue burger with everything, seasoned fries, and… a chocolate milkshake,” Justin said to the waitress as he handed over the menu, an innocent grin on his face.

This waitress, whose name tag indicated was “Betty”, looked back at him in shock. “Are you sure, Brian?”

“Why, are the burgers no good here?” he asked her.

“You wouldn’t know since you’ve never had one here before, that I know of,” Michael commented beside him.

Betty smiled warily as if she hoped she wasn’t involved in some kind of prank. “The barbecue burger is my favorite.”

“Great! Thank you,” Justin said, smiling back.

“Get me the same thing, Betty,” Michael added.

After she left to put in the group’s orders, Justin looked up to see Brian’s other two friends, who he recalled being named Theodore and Emmett, staring back at him with their mouths open.

“Are we in the Twilight Zone?” the more flamboyant friend asked.

Justin shrugged. “A man’s gotta eat, right? May as well eat something good.”

“Speaking of eating, who was that twink I saw you with earlier?” Michael asked him.

Justin had never heard of the term “twink” before that day and certainly had never heard himself be referred to as one, but he figured that Michael was talking about his actual body.

He could only hope that Brian was behaving himself at his house…

“Uh…” Justin murmured, searching for what to say. “We’re just friends.”

The drab one across the table barked out a humorless laugh. “You don’t have any friends.”

Justin looked around at present company. “Then who the hell are you guys?”

The flamboyant one put his hand on his chest, gasping. “Holy shit… are we friends with the Brian Kinney? We mere peasants? When did this happen?”

“Congratulations, boys,” Michael said to other two, reaching across the table to shake their hands. “Anyway, you fucked him, didn’t you?”

It took a few seconds before Justin realized that Michael was talking to him… or to Brian about him.

He turned to look at the man, trying not to feel too offended by his question. He was barely comfortable talking about his non-existent sex life with his parents or Daphne, so he certainly was not comfortable discussing what had happened earlier with Brian at the loft with these strangers. He wasn’t even sure if he understood what had happened, what with the making out with his own naked body thing until they were rudely interrupted by Daphne.

Being in Brian’s shoes, however, Justin shrugged casually. “You know...”

“He’s not exactly your usual type,” Michael commented. “I mean, he was cute, but you normally prefer your tricks to be able to see a PG-13 movie by themselves.”

“He’s seventeen,” Justin blurted out.

The drab one whistled low. “Practically a fetus… certainly not a matador, which you still owe us, by the way.”

Brian found himself sitting at the dining room table of the Taylor home, a big plate of chicken parmesan in front of him. The demon child was sitting across from him, slurping her spaghetti noodles loudly. Justin’s nagging mother was at his left and the man that Brian assumed was Justin’s father was at his right.

Other than eating sounds and a clock ticking somewhere in the distance, it was dead quiet. The air felt very tense, a familiar feeling for Brian that he recalled from his own days of sitting at the dinner table with his family - a feeling that he did not miss.

Mrs. Taylor was the first to finish her meal and took her empty plate with her into the kitchen.

“She’s not actually angry with you,” Mr. Taylor quietly said.

Brian glanced over at him, finding that he, or Justin, was the one the man was speaking to.

“Uh… okay,” Brian mumbled.

“I mean, I don’t exactly condone you smoking, especially in the house, but she’s known about it for months. We can smell it on you all the time. She’s just taking her anger for me out on you.”

Brian forked some more chicken into his mouth, not at all interested in the family drama.

Since it wasn’t his body, Brian ate his entire meal, which was quite tasty. At least Justin’s mother could cook, unlike his own mother who served nothing but barely-edible garbage to him for eighteen years.

He then went back up to Justin’s room and picked up the phone, calling his loft. His answering machine picked up after a few rings, so he hung up and called his cell phone. No answer there, either, but he didn’t know if the boy would have seen the phone plugged in to charge on his nightstand. He hadn’t technically given him permission to answer his phones and didn’t know if Justin was even in the loft anymore.

“Shit… what the fuck did I do to deserve this?” Brian said out loud as he laid down on Justin’s bed.

He hated feeling like he was a prisoner - not only in that body but also in that house.

“Sure, I’ve redefined the word ‘promiscuity,’ I drink like a fish, smoke like a chimney, do copious amounts of drugs, and treat most people like shit. But I pay my taxes, I vote, I gave sperm to a lesbian… I’m a good fucking person, dammit.”

Justin walked down the street to what turned out to be Woody’s, the bar that Brian had mentioned Mysterious Marilyn approaching him in the previous evening, with Michael practically glued to his hip. His accessory was rattling on about someone named “Fat Marley” who apparently worked with him and was a homophobic cunt. Emmett and Theodore - Justin was still unclear on which one was which - were following behind them.

Once they got inside Woody’s, Justin managed to wiggle away from Michael and look around the crowded bar for the witch drag queen. He didn’t know what he would say to her if he saw her, if anything at all, but he did not find her.

Michael shoved a bottle of Sam Adams Light in his hand a minute later.

“First round’s on me,” he said, an adoring smile on his boyishly handsome face.

“Thanks,” Justin mumbled.

Justin wasn’t much of a drinker, due to his tender age. He had sneaked a few sips over the years, mostly during country club parties. He had learned how to mix drinks and would sometimes “taste test” them before serving. Margaritas were his favorite. He didn’t much care for wine and had never tasted beer before.

He took a sip of the one in his hand, finding that it wasn’t too bad.

They were able to find a small empty table, and Justin sat quietly while the other three chattered away about random topics that Justin had zero knowledge or interest in. Instead, he watched a few people sing karaoke on the small stage and thought it looked fun.

He got up from his chair and wandered over to the DJ table, asking the guy if he could do a song. He was given a book of songs to choose from and Justin found one that he had always adored.

As he stepped up on the stage, he heard Michael loudly ask “What the fuck is he doing?” to his friends.

He got his answer when “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany began to play.

“Children behave, that's what they say when we're together,” Justin sang, Brian’s sexy voice sounding quite nice over the sound system. “And watch how you play. They don't understand and so we're running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another's hands. Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say, I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around. I think we're alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound...”

Justin had been singing with his eyes closed and opened them to find Michael, Theodore, and Emmett staring at him in complete shock. There were others around the room with similar expressions. He had to bite his lips to keep from laughing at their response as he finished the song, moving his hips to the beat of the music and having a great time.

As the music faded out, everyone clapped and cheered. Justin handed the microphone off to the next singer and sauntered back to his table.

Brian’s three friends were speechless.

“That was fun,” Justin said as he picked up his beer and took a swig.

Michael took a long pull from his own beer before he could speak. “What the fuck has gotten into you today, Brian? Are you trying some kind of new drug or something?”

Justin simply shrugged.

Brian was bored out of his fucking mind. Justin had a small TV in his room, but there wasn’t anything interesting on. He also had a computer but it had a password on it, probably to keep the nosey demon child from snooping.

The parental units went to bed around ten. Brian picked up the phone, called a cab, and snuck out the front door carrying a duffle bag full of Justin’s baggy clothes and underwear.

Justin was having the time of his life shaking his ass under the disco balls, flashing lights, and glittery confetti at Babylon. Tons of men in various stages of undress were crowded around him, grabbing him, and dry-humping him. Regardless, he wasn’t paying a lick of attention to any of them and was lost in the music.

He could totally get used to this…

Justin found himself jolted out of his trance when someone started yelling in his ear.

“Hey, Stud,” a fairly attractive brunet said.

“Hi,” he answered casually.

The brunet smiled widely as if speaking to him was the highlight of his week. “Want to go to the backroom?”

Justin didn’t know what the backroom was or where it was. All he wanted to do was dance, and since he wasn’t sure if the backroom was for dancing, he decided to decline.

“No thanks, I’m staying right here.”

“Alright, then,” the brunet said.

Before Justin knew it, the man was unbuttoning his jeans and dropping to his knees. Justin wasn’t even aware that he was hard until his - or rather Brian’s - cock sprang out at full attention.

“Hey!” Justin shrieked. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The man looked up at him curiously, his hand wrapped around his shaft and his mouth poised to take him. “Uh…”

Justin was at the coat check counter less than a minute later to reclaim Brian’s leather jacket. He had given Michael a ride over to Liberty Avenue, but he had no idea where the man was at that time and really didn’t care. He practically sprinted down the street to where he had parked the Jeep and managed to get himself back to the loft without getting lost.

After riding the elevator to the top floor, he was shocked to find Brian sitting outside the door waiting for him.