Chapter 19 - The Taming of the Stud.

Debbie Novotny had already been on her feet for three hours this morning and she hadn’t had a break yet. She normally didn’t mind the early morning shift, but she’d worked swing shift last night as well - Deb had agreed to cover for Kiki who’s Trany Support Group had gone as a group to go see the Rocky Horror Picture Show last night. So, today Deb was more tired than usual and just a tad bit more cranky. But, when Justin and Brian came in the door, hand in hand no less, Debbie figured that that sweet kid’s sunshine smile, which always seemed to light up the room, went a long way towards lifting her spirits.

“Sunshine, sweetie,” the exuberant red headed surrogate mother of Liberty Avenue gushed. “How’re you doing this morning? Come and give me a big good morning hug, sweetie. I could really use a little sunshine to charge my engines this morning. I’m having a fuck of a time getting my ass in gear this morning.”  

Without giving the boy time to protest, Debbie wrapped Justin in a huge bear hug, squeezing until Justin grunted  a little from the pressure to his already bruised ribs. The noise caused Deb to relent a little and when she pulled back, she finally noticed the ugly black, green and purple bruise on Justin’s cheek and jaw.  

“What the fuck happened to you, Sunshine.” Deb was instantly in mother bear protective mode.

“It’s a long story, Deb,” and Justin started to explain about the school and Hobbs.

“Homophobic Jock,” Brian succinctly interrupted Justin’s dissertation.

“Figures!,” responded Debbie. “Fucking asshole! Sorry you had to go through that, Sunshine. Did you report the fucker to the cops?”

“Wouldn’t do any good. No witnesses plus rich white kid versus fag,” Brian complained. “The asshole would get a slap on the wrist and then be back on the street even more pissed at Justin.” Brian was always the realist.

“You’re probably right, Brian, but it just pisses me off,” Debbie said with resignation. “So, Sunshine, what you need is a nice big hot breakfast. You need to keep your strength up to help you heal. You boys sit and I’m going to get you the Butch Bottom Special. That should tide you over for a bit.” And then Debbie was off to put in ‘Justin’s’ order.

“Don’t get too ‘butch’ now, Sunshine,” Brian teased. “I like that bottom just the way it is.” And Brian goosed the lovely plump bottom in question to emphasize his point, causing Justin to giggle softly.

As they were sliding into their favorite booth, Brian pulled out a shiny new razor-type cell phone from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table to Justin.

“I had Cynthia pick it up for you yesterday,” Brian explained, trying to be nonchalant. “I might need to get a hold of you, sometime.”

Justin understood right away that the phone was not just meant to provide ease of communications, but also to show how worried Brian was after yesterday and how much the older man cared. Justin, of course, would never point out these facts to his partner. Brian didn’t do sentiment so he would only deny everything, get embarrassed or get angry, and Justin already knew better than to comment on any of the multitude of caring, tender things Brian did for him each day.

The new cell phone provided a nice segway into the topic that Justin had wanted to broach anyway, so, as soon as their food was served, the young man dove into the conversation with almost as much gusto as he showed towards the stack of pancakes on his plate. Brian, on the other hand, wasn’t as thrilled with the turn the conversation was taking. In fact, this was the one topic that Brian least wanted to discuss.

“Are you going to tell me about the name thing voluntarily or do I have to resort to drastic measures,” Justin began, trying to maintain a light-hearted approach. “I could tickle the information out of you, if you choose to resist.”

Brian contemplated where to start for a few seconds and then decided to start in a slightly different fashion. “First, tell me what else you remember about Hobbs.” When he saw Justin about to contradict him, he hurried on, “You were talking in your sleep last night, Sunshine. You kept saying his name. I think . . Did you remember anything more?”

“A little,” Justin reluctantly admitted. “It happened at my Prom, right? That’s where Hobbs attacked me. I remembered about dancing with you and then we went down to the Jeep together. And, that’s where it happened. That’s where Hobbs was. It was you who tried to warn me - your voice I heard calling my name.”  

“Anything else about that night or. . . . or before?” Brian pressed.

“No. So, uh, my last name is Taylor? Not Kinney,” Justin persisted.

“That night at the hospital there was a screw up,” Brian shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that big a deal so  . . . .  I just didn’t say anything.”  

Brian was not looking Justin in the eyes. Instead, the brunet man was looking down at the table and nervously playing with a sugar packet and his spoon. Justin thought that the man seemed, surprisingly, embarrassed - but that wasn’t like Brian. Was it? When the truth dawned on the young man, he was almost bowled over at the revelation.

“You LIKE me using ‘Kinney’. That’s it, isn’t it?” Justin practically crowed. “You like having me use your name. That’s why you didn’t correct the hospital.”

Brian was still avoiding meeting Justin’s eyes, continuing to be fascinated by the now empty sugar packet. Justin decided, wisely, to back off but couldn’t get the huge grin off his face.  

“Well, that explains the name. Now, about my mother? That secretary said something about how my mother had been there asking about me last week. You told me that my family had kicked me out because I was gay. But, then, why would my mother be asking about me at my school?” Justin finished, waiting for some response from Brian.

“I don’t know, Justin. I never met your mother,” Brian explained. “I only ever spoke to your father.” Brian was more than reluctant to continue, but glancing over at the expectant look on Justin’s face, he knew he didn’t have a choice. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this. . . Fuck it. He’s just an ass, so what difference does it make what the creep said,” Brian retreated, knowing how much this was going to hurt his Sunshine and not wanting to have anything to do with inflicting that pain.

“Brian, I need to know. Please.”

“Fine. I called him the night you were attacked. He refused to come to the hospital. He said, ‘He’s NOT my son anymore’ and then hung up on me.” Brian blurted it all out but instantly regretted it when he saw the crushed look on the boy’s face. “I’m sorry, Justin.”

Justin sat for a long time, playing with his food now instead of shovelling it in like he normally would. In his mind, this explained to a large extent why Brian had been so reluctant to tell him about his past. He could see how hard it was on Brian to tell him these things that would undoubtedly hurt the man Brian cared about.

“I shouldn’t have taken you to that school,” Brian continued. “I figured that you would get hurt somehow. And you did. Not only with this shit about your dad, but also, this,” Brian reached across the table to lightly stroke the black and blue cheek.  

“This is not your fault, Brian,” Justin spoke up at once. “You’re not responsible for my dad being an asshole or Hobbs being a violent homophobic prick. Brian, look at me. You. Are. NOT. Responsible for this.  

-Like fuck I’m not. I knew that monster was likely to be at the school. I knew it was possible And, still, I let this happen. . . . He doesn’t have anyone but me right now and I fucking let him get hurt again. . . Big surprise - Kinney fucks up again. . . . God that bruise is fucking huge. I'm surprised he’s able to chew with that. . . . Then again, we are talking about the human eating machine, here. . .  I really want to beat the shit out of both Hobbs and Craig Taylor, right now. . . . If I hadn’t fucking danced with him at the goddamned hetero-hop in the first place, none of this would be happening right now.  . . . Time’s up, Kinney. You have to come clean and tell him everything. . . . I’m so fucked.

“Justin. There’s more,” Brian started. “I have to tell you the rest about that night. . . .”

“Goooooood morning, ladies. Everyone bright eyed and bushy-tailed this morning?” Emmett chimed as he slid into the booth next to Justin, oblivious to the serious countenances of both his friends. Then, the ebullient queen finally noticed the bruising on Justin’s face and went immediately into concerned mode. “Baby, what happened to you,” Emmett said while eyeing Brian suspiciously.

“Homophobic high school jock,” Brian explained once again, interrupting Justin before he’d even said a single word.

“Say no more, Honey. We’ve ALL been there. No broken bones or stitches? Good. Well, thank the stars for that,” Em went on. “So, what else is new?”

The three men sat and talked for a while after that. Emmett instinctively took on the role of mediator and rapidly steered the conversation towards the gossip on the street, who he’d seen at the club last night, and, inevitably, who he’d taken home last night, going into graphic details about his date’s performance. Em was only halfway through his story, however, when a tall, dark-haired, twenty-something man, a bit on the skinny side and dressed in a mesh tank top and skin tight blue jeans walked up to their table with an inviting look, laid his hand on Brian’s shoulder, giving it a seductive little squeeze, and bent to whisper in the older man’s ear. The resulting leer on Brian’s face told anyone who was interested what the man’s suggestion had been.  

Justin, who just happened to be holding his knife at that moment, pointed the implement at the presumptuous twink and in a loud, firm voice, said, “He’s NOT interested. Get lost!”

Brian looked over at Justin in amazement. No one had EVER done anything like that to him in his life. He actually, literally, didn’t know what to say at that moment.

“I think he should get to decide that for himself,” the snotty little twink opined.

“Not any more he doesn’t. So, FUCK OFF.” Justin repeated, emphasizing each word with a jab of the knife in the twink’s direction.  

The ferocious young blond was so obviously serious that the twink slinked off without waiting for any further instructions, casting a disappointed look or two in Brian’s direction once he was far enough away for safety.

“What the FUCK, Justin,” Brian erupted. “When did you become my fucking social secretary? You DON’T get to dictate my life to me.”

“I know we haven’t yet finished our discussion about everything that went down in Portland, Brian,” Justin calmly replied to the fuming brunet. “But, I guess now is as good a time as any. “

Justin put down the knife he was still holding and pushed his plate away. He then folded his hands together on the table top and took a deep breath, the fury in his eyes equalling that in Brian’s. He looked Brian directly in the eyes and very clearly meant every word he said next.

“I. Don’t. Like. To. Share. Brian. I told you this when we were in Portland. I’m not going to make you choose right this minute, but I’m NOT going to passively sit here and watch while you pick up tricks right in front of me, either.” 

Justin kept his voice low but there was menace in his tone, nonetheless. When he was done speaking, the imperious blond sat back, continuing to look Brian in the eyes, with an open, honest but uncompromising look on his beautiful face. Nobody said anything.

-Who the fuck does this little chicken think he is? . . .  He doesn’t fucking own me just cause I’m letting him stay at my place. . . I NEVER agreed to stop tricking. . . . Well, except for that first week while he was recovering from the surgery. But, that was all. . . It was worth it though. Shit, that was one amazing fuck when we finally  . . . . God he’s beautiful when he’s all angry like this. His fucking eyes are almost glowing. . . . That twink was pretty skinny, too - Not really my type. . . . So, what the fuck do I do now?  . . . I’m so totally fucked.

Justin and Emmett watched as Brian abruptly stood up and walked out of the Diner, not saying another word to anyone.

“Baby,” Em asked as soon as he’d recovered from his utter astonishment. “I was just wondering if those slacks are regular off-the-rack clothing or if you had to get them custom tailored.”

“Huh?” Justin was caught off guard by Em’s question. “Um, I guess they’re just regular - off the rack. Why?”

“Cause, Baby, with balls as big as yours, I’ve got no idea how you can get em in such tight jeans!” Emmett spat out, breaking into uproarious laughter. “Seriously, Justin. I NEVER thought I would see this day. You’ve made that man break just about every single rule he ever had.” Emmett continued, ticking each rule off on his fingers as he went, ”Brian doesn’t do relationships, Brian doesn’t do boyfriends, Brian doesn’t even let anyone stay the night, let alone move in with him, Brian never fucks anyone twice, and, if I’m not mistaken, he’s on the verge of breaking his most sacred rule of all - Brian does NOT do monogamy. Honey, it looks like the Stud of Liberty Avenue has finally been tamed!”

Justin had been laughing along with Emmett’s recitation the whole time, a knowing look in his eyes and a small, smug smile on his lips.

“Do me a favor, Em,” Justin finally spoke up. “Don’t let Brian know that, okay.”

Justin then shoved Emmett over and stood up. “Gotta get to work.”

“Good luck at work, Baby. I hope Brian isn’t too pissed at you.”  

“He won’t be. At least, he won’t be after I let him fuck me over his desk before the morning staff meeting,” Justin added with a mischievous grin. “Later, Em.”

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

“So, this is Liberty Avenue,” Jennifer Taylor commented to Daphne as the two women stood on a street corner taking in the sights of the ‘alternative’ neighborhood.  

“What’s the plan?” Daphne asked, not as phazed by the local atmosphere as the older woman.

“I don’t really know. I guess we just hang out and keep our eyes open,” Jennifer offered. “Maybe we could show Justin’s picture around. I know coming here is a long shot, but you said you saw him down here at the Pride Parade and this is, according to the internet, the ‘center of gay life in Pittsburgh’. I don’t know where else to start.”

“Well, I guess it’s worth a try,” Daphne agreed as the two started walking down the street.

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

Carter picked up his cell and dialed the number Craig Taylor had given him for important, private calls. He was impressed that Craig answered on the second ring. The man was obviously waiting for Carter’s call.

“I saw your wife, Jennifer, and your kid’s school chum, I think her name is Daphne, on Liberty Avenue this afternoon.” Carter dove right in. “Have you made your decision yet? You’re running out of time.”

“Fuck! . . . . Fine. Do it. Just get him the hell out of the city.” Craig’s voice came loudly through the cell phone.

“You said you had a place we could use?”  

“Yeah. My folks have an old hunting cabin in the Appalachians up north, near Williamsport. What about the other kid?

“Hobbs? Yeah, he’s on board. I told him to look at it like a summer job,” Carter cackled out his amusement at the situation. “He’s a bit of a hot head, though. You sure about him?”

“He’ll be fine,” Craig said. “First of all, he hates fags even more than I do. And second, if he doesn’t help us out, he knows I’ll turn him into the cops.”

“Whatever you say, Boss”

“When’s this going to happen? This has to be done soon.”

“I kinda have to play it by ear. I need to get the kid alone, and that won’t be easy - he’s practically joined at the hip with Kinney these days. But, I already have some ideas how to work it. Maybe.” Carter said thoughtfully. “How about tomorrow morning? 8:00 am sound good to you?”