Chapter 10 - The Land of Liberty.

The comfortable, loud, well-lit environment at the Liberty Diner had always felt like home to Brian. That might have been partly because the woman he thought of as his ‘Mom’ also worked there. The only problem with going to a place that felt like home and came with your Mother included, was that when you’d screwed up, you ended up feeling just like you had when you were a kid and got yelled at by your mother at home. And Brian was sure that by the time he got to the Diner tonight, he’d be in for a real down-home tongue-lashing from his pseudo-mom, Debbie.

When the gang at Woody’s had decided to call it a night and head to the Diner for something to eat before going home, Brian had pulled Michael aside and given him his marching orders with regard to informing Debbie about Operation Twink. Brian was relieved to be able to delegate this job to Michael, since he didn’t want to sit through the string of opinions he was sure Debbie would have about how he’d handled things - Debbie had an opinion about everything, especially everything her ‘sons’ did that she in any way disapproved of. So, in many ways, it was better that Michael was telling her about Justin and not him.

On the other hand, by letting Michael and the others get to the Diner before him, he knew he was also allowing them time to bring Debbie up to date on the latest Kinney ‘asshole’ moment - namely, his recent backroom adventure with the yummy Georgia Peach. Apparently that was a ‘bad thing’, although it had seemed like a very good idea to Brian at the time. And this was why he was already preparing himself, mentally, for the wrath of Debbie Novotny.  

“So. . .  are you hungry,” Brian tried once again to break the ice with the silent, seething iceberg sitting in the passenger seat.

*          *, the sound of silence from the iceberg.

“Debbie, Michael’s mom, is a waitress at the Diner. You’re going to really love her. She tends to sort of adopt pretty much every gay boy on the Avenue and mother-hens us all,” Brian tried again.

*         *, still the sound of silence from the iceberg.

“Fuck it! Are you just going to ignore me forever?”

*         *, the continuing sound of silence from the frosty passenger seat iceberg.

“Whatever, Justin. Suit yourself!”

Brian decided to give up. He’d wait. He’d take his tongue-lashing from Deb. Maybe she’d tell him what he should do to fix this with Justin - she usually did when he screwed up. That didn’t mean he always followed her advice, but at least it would give him a starting point to work from - because he didn’t know where to start this time.

Brian couldn’t find a parking space close to the Diner and ended up having to park around the corner, a couple blocks away. Justin was already out of his seat and storming down the sidewalk without him before Brian had even got his seatbelt off. Brian locked the Jeep, put on his Ray Ban sunglasses - even though it was night time, just in case he needed protection - and took a deep breath to steel himself for the coming trials before following after the blond twink already disappearing around the corner. 

By the time he got into the Diner, Brian could see that Justin was already tucked in the farthest corner of the farthest booth with Ben and Michael sitting on the bench next to him and Ted, Blake and Emmett on the other side, as if they had circled around to protect the poor thing from Big Bad Brian.  

Brian slid into the next booth over, sitting sideways with his legs laying across the length of the booth, so he could see over the back of the seat. Justin was still trying to hide in the corner and wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Ben was giving him that serene, empathic look. Michael was. . . well he was Michael. Emmett was shooting little sideways lightning bolt glances at him over the seat back. Ted and Blake were pretending they weren’t there.  

“Hey, guys. Thanks for saving me a seat!” Brian snarked as he flipped over his coffee cup.

The guys were saved from having to respond by the arrival of Debbie, order pad and pen in hand.

“Evening boys. What’s everybody having tonight.” Brian always worried when Debbie was nice and didn’t make any rude jokes. It usually meant she was about to do or say something extreme. “Hi, Justin. What can I get you, Sweetie,” Debbie started with the new boy.

After getting all the orders at the gang’s table, Debbie turned swiftly and headed towards the kitchen order window.

“Deb. What about my order?” Brian reminded her.

“You can wait, asshole,” Debbie rejoined in her patented ‘I’m pissed at you’ voice.  

Yeah, Brian was worried. He readjusted his sunglasses, and slumped a little further down in his seat. Debbie came back a couple of minutes later with drinks and stayed to chat with the group - she continued to ignore Brian, who likewise pretended he didn’t care whether or not she picked up his order.  

“So, how were things at Woody’s tonight? Hard, I bet! *Ha*.” Typical Debbie. “You doing okay, Justin, Baby? You probably should be taking it easier, you know. You don’t want to wear yourself out, ‘cause you know it will take you longer to get better if you don’t get enough rest.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine, Debbie. I’ll head straight to bed after we leave here,” Justin replied politely.

“Well, let’s hope you don’t head 'straight' there,” Ted added for the obligatory sexual innuendo laugh, and the regular pace of conversation started up from there.

Eventually, Debbie came over and filled Brian’s coffee cup, but still didn’t ask about his order. Brian continued to sit there, aloof from the conversation, but seemingly completely at ease. When the rest of the crew was halfway done with their food, Debbie finally came over to Brian and asked if he was going to order anything.  

“Just coffee, thanks,” came from Brian.

“So, why the fuck are you complaining about me not taking your order, asshole?” Debbie began, and then slid into the booth across from Brian. She leaned forward, pointing a long, scarlet red fingernail in his direction and said in a hushed voice, “you better watch it, Brian. I heard what you did at Woody’s tonight. You’re already in such deep, shit trouble - what the fuck do you think you’re doing with this kid? Whatever, but don’t you fucking make it worse by hurting him. You hear me? Are you going to fix this?”

“Exactly what do you suggest I do, Deb?” Brian asked with his tried and true smart-ass mask firmly in place.

“I don’t know, but something! You need to tell the boy the truth, you hear me? The longer you wait the bigger the shit hole you’ll be in. And, until you do come clean, don’t fucking act like a dick to him.” Debbie stayed at the table for a couple more minutes, continuing to glare at Brian, but knowing that she wasn’t likely to get any response. Finally, she shook her head in disgust, slid back out of the booth and moved on to take care of her other customers. 

When Deb came around the next time to clear plates at the gang’s table, it was clear that Justin was ready to leave. He looked exhausted and depressed and somehow smaller as he huddled in the far corner. Mother Novotny’s heart was immediately lost and all her mothering instincts kicked into high gear.

“Hey. Give us a little sunshine over there, will ya, Justin?” Debbie tried to cheer the boy up. When Justin gave her a little half-smile, she beamed back at him. “That’s it, Baby. That smile just brightens the whole place up.” Turning to the next booth, she ordered, “time for you to get Sunshine here home, Brian. He’s fucking worn out.”

“Yes, mother,” said Brian, getting up and waiting while everyone evacuated the other booth.  

“Thanks, Debbie. Good night,” Justin said, as the red-headed tornado swept the boy up in a bear hug, pinched his cheek and then swatted him on the ass to get him moving towards the door.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. You make sure you’re getting enough rest, you hear me?” Debbie shouted as Justin headed out the door, Brian politely holding it open for him then following in the younger man’s wake.

Ten minutes later, Brian pulled the Jeep into its space in the parking area behind the loft, and shut off the engine. When Justin started to unbuckle his seat belt, though, Brian stopped him by grabbing the boy’s hand. Justin tried to pull his hand away, but Brian wasn’t letting go. He simply turned in his seat so he was facing the younger man, and waited until Justin settled.

“Justin. I guess I fucked up tonight. I didn’t mean to hurt you or piss you off. It’s just. . . . this is who I am. I’m queer. I trick - a lot. It’s just fucking - it doesn’t mean anything. I never promised . . . I’m not going to change who I am, Justin. I don’t want to change and even if I did I don’t think I could. But that doesn’t mean I don’t . . . care about you. . . .” Brian’s voice slowly faded away, but he still sat there, holding Justin’s hand, gently caressing the back with his thumb, and trying to say to him with his touch what he couldn’t find a way to express in words.  

Finally Justin spoke up. “Brian, I really don’t know what to say. I guess. . .  if this is what we agreed to, this kind of open relationship, well, I . . . .I guess I can’t complain now. It’s just. . . . it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like something I would agree to. I don’t know how to explain this to you.” Justin sighed and reached his free hand up to rub his eyes. “I’m tired, Brian. I think I tried to push it way too much today, with working and going out and everything. Can we please just go to bed and talk about this in the morning.”

“Sure. Come on, Sunshine. It looks like you could probably use a pain killer too. Deb was right - you do look beat.” 

Brian released Justin’s hand then quickly ran around the car to get his door. Brian wrapped his arm around Justin’s shoulders as they walked together into the lobby and took the elevator upstairs. Once inside, he took control completely, hustling Justin into bed, bringing his meds to him with a bottle of water and putting all the discarded clothes in the hamper before sliding into the bed himself. And, for probably only the second time in his life, Brian reached over and tenderly pulled the man next to him in bed into his arms, pulling him close and curling his body around the smaller frame. Justin settled in and fell asleep quickly. Brian did not. He was awake, thinking, for quite some time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

The alarm went off at its usual time the next morning. Brian blinked and was just about to roll over and hit the snooze button, when the noise stopped on its own. He rolled his head to the left and opened his eyes, blinking in the too-bright morning light and was startled to discover someone sitting up in the bed next to him. He instinctively jerked his head back, still not completely able to focus his eyes, when he felt a soft, warm hand lightly rubbing his shoulder.

“Sorry to scare you, Brian,” a subdued tenor voice said.

Brian laid his head back on the pillow and continued to blink, trying to get his brain functioning. It didn’t happen fast enough, though, and before he could form a completely coherent thought, he felt the duvet being lifted up while a lean, sinuous body slid into the bed next to him and a strong warm arm stretched across his chest.  

“Mmmmm,” was still all Brian could manage.

His bedmate took that as encouragement and snuggled in closer, playing with and stroking one sleep-softened nipple while leaving a trail of soft kisses on Brian’s shoulder and neck. Brian reached his left arm around to pull the soft, warm velvety smooth body tight against him and then let his hand glide down that silky skin coming to rest finally gripping a pleasantly plump ass cheek. Then, using this new handhold to gain leverage, he lifted the pliant body up and to the side so that it was completely draped over his own, allowing him full access now to both butt cheeks, which he grabbed in delight and began rhythmically kneading and massaging.  

This new position also allowed the body on top of him to reach his mouth, which meant that Brian’s lips were being lightly kissed and tasted and two firm warm hands were caressing his temples and twining in his hair. The feather-light kisses gradually intensified and pressed more firmly against his mouth. When Brian let his mouth fall open slightly, an insistent tongue thrust in, exploring and tasting further, sucking on and drawing back his own tongue.

After a while the kissing moved, trailing across his cheek and jaw till the mouth was pressed against his ear.

“Brian. I want you. Please. I need you,” the voice purred.

Brian clasped the body to him tightly and rolled them both over, freeing his arms so he could stroke and touch and feel more of the beautiful, warm, silky skin. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of that delicious skin. He pushed himself up on one elbow so he could look down and get a better view of this oh-so-tempting body, opening his eyes fully for the first time and smiling down at the man in his arms.

Unfortunately, that was when Brian’s conscious mind actually kicked in.  

“Fuck, Justin. Ohhhhhh.” Brian groaned as he rolled back over to his own side of the bed. “What the hell are you doing? You must have a fucking deathwish, or something. You’ve got to stop doing this to me.”

“Brian. Come back. I don’t want you to stop. Please. I’m fine. Really. It’s not like I’m going to break or something. Brian. Please," Justin implored the man to return.

Feigning deafness, Brian stomped off to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. He stepped into the shower, turning it on full blast as cold as it would go for sixty seconds before adjusting the temperature upwards until it was as hot as he could take it. Then he slumped back against the glass wall of the shower enclosure and allowed his body to slide down till he was sitting on the tile floor.

-I don’t know if he’s trying to kill me or himself. Damn it . . . I wish I had stayed asleep . . . He is so fucking beautiful and such a goddamned tease. He does have the nicest ass I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life . . . Shit, I shouldn’t have thought about his ass. I’m fucking getting hard again.  

Reluctantly, Kinney stood up once again and twisted the shower control back to the coldest setting, yelping when the cold water stung against his skin.