Chapter 7 - Scoff

Brian was more than thrilled to walk into the large church hall where the wedding was taking place with GQ Justin on his arm.

The whole way over to the church in the limo with the Dennison’s, Justin had been going on and on about his ‘Beauty Spa Day’ with Simone. The kid sounded tickled pink to have been so pampered, and it was all new to him, so he was pretty much raving over every little bit. From what Brian could gather amidst the disconnected jumble of words, Justin and Simone had started off with facials and massages. Justin had liked the facial - although he made sure to tell everyone that he HAD already washed his face himself that day - but he wasn’t sure if he liked the massage part, mostly because the masseuse had kind of scared him.

“Her name was Helga. She was really, really, really big!” Justin was explaining while Simone just sat back and listened with an amused smile. “You wouldn’t believe how big she was, Just Brian!” In his enthusiasm, Justin even forgot to drop the ‘Just’ from the Brian. “Her hand was bigger than my whole head.” He held his own hand up to his face in demonstration. “Simone said it was okay, but I really didn’t know, especially when Helga told me to take off all my clothes and get up on her table. I know you told me it was okay for boyfriends to be naked together and that there was nothing you had that I didn’t have too, but I don’t think Helga has the same pieces. She had these big huge bosoms and when she bent over me I was even kinda scared that I would suffocate under them . . . and, anyway, I didn’t think it would be right to be naked with Helga. She isn’t my boyfriend. In fact, I don’t think she is even a boy but, then again, I’m not really sure because I’ve never seen a girl who was THAT big, you know? So, anyway, I took off my shirt but not my pants and then I got up on the table. She said to lay down on my tummy. And then she did all these THINGS to me. It was wonderful. I mean, at first I wasn’t sure I liked it because when her hands touched my back it was really hard - her hands are really hard, like hammers - but then, after a while it felt good and all my muscles got sort of sleepy. I didn’t let her rub my front parts though. I didn’t think I wanted her hammer hands near THOSE parts. But it was still nice to have my back be all sleepy.”

When the kid finally stopped to take a breath he found that all three of the other passengers in the limo were laughing at him and he blushed a dark pink. But he was still smiling. Brian found himself once again thinking - against his will - that this kid was fucking adorable. It just added to the mystery about why he was in that mental hospital in the first place.

“After Helga left, Simone and I had a mani/pedi!” Justin proceeded to show Brian his shiny, freshly buffed and trimmed nails. “That’s short for manicure and pedicure, not a petty little man - which is what I thought at first too. It means they do your fingernails and toenails all pretty. Don’t they look nice? You should see my toenails, too! They’re painted the same color as my tie with fine silver glitter! I wanted to have my fingernails the same color but Simone told me you probably wouldn’t like that. She said I could do my toes any color I wanted though. So I choose the blue. Now I’m color coordinated right down to my toes!” He grinned happily as he started to reach down to remove a shoe in order to show Brian this work of art.

“That’s okay, Sunshine. You can show me your color coordinated toes later tonight.” Brian all but grabbed the boy’s hands to stop him from the display, giving Justin a slightly amused grin. ”Thanks, Simone. I think Justin really enjoyed your little treat,” Brian turned to thank their hostess for all her efforts. “And that suit is amazing. I’m really grateful. We were running late on our way to the airport so we didn’t have time to pick up clothes for Justin . . .”

“Say no more, Brian. It was my pleasure. Justin and I had a fine old time with our ‘Beauty Spa Day’, as he calls it,” Simone waived off Brian’s thanks with an elegantly manicured hand of her own. “Frankly, I enjoyed the company. Being the mother of three boys - even if one of them IS gay - didn’t give me much opportunity to engage my more feminine side. So it was nice to have Justin for company for the day.”

Brian nodded appreciatively, and before he could manage to talk himself out of it, he leaned across the space between the two bench seats and kissed Simone’s cheek making their hostess blush. “Still, thanks.”

“Well then . . .” Simone patted her cheek lightly right where the kiss had landed. “Would anyone care for some Champagne? It’s never too early to start celebrating.”

Justin remembered drinking the wonderful Champagne that had tasted like liquid perfume last night, and he was thrilled that he was going to get to try more of it. He didn’t even mind that it made him feel silly or that his head would get fuzzy after a while. Everything was just wonderful here with Brian and he wanted to try it all.

“I would love some of that ‘Liquid Perfume’, Simone. It was really good when I had it last night, even though it made me a little goofy. And anyway, I like being goofy because it makes Brian goofy too, and when we are goofy together we dance all night long.” Justin giggled and looked up at Brian adoringly.

Simone, sitting just a few feet away, couldn’t hide her amusement listening to her new found friend. She thought that she would really miss this engaging young man when he had to leave. It just wouldn’t be as interesting without him around. Taking another quick moment to revel in her musing, Simone set about pouring Justin a glass of Champagne, smiling yet again at the way his face instantly lit up the moment the first taste passed his lips. It also didn’t escape her notice that Brian hadn’t so much as glanced anywhere else BUT at his adorable blond since they’d gotten in the car - save for when he gave her the brief kiss that he’d placed on her cheek. It was obvious to her that Brian was well and truly smitten with his young Justin, and that Justin felt the same. She wanted them to experience all the happiness that their hands and hearts could hold. These young men had a few less miles on them than she and Adam did, so they would have plenty of time to figure things out.

Before they'd finished their champagne, the limo pulled up outside the large church where the wedding would be celebrated. The Dennisons were first out, of course, but they politely waited for the younger couple to join them before they all made their way up the front steps. Then the parents of the groom were swept off to see to their pre-ceremony duties. Brian and Justin were escorted to places on the right side of the aisle by a friendly, and obviously gay, usher. The usher was giving Brian one of those looks - the kind that Brian would have normally jumped at, right before he jumped the usher - but this time, Brian only had eyes for his Sunshine.

Justin was still staring at all the wondrous decorations around them in the church, his eyes wide as saucers, when the organ music started to play. The boy actually jumped off the seat a little at the first note - startled by the large, loud sound. Brian huffed a little laugh at the kid - he was consistently amazed by seeing the world through Justin’s untainted eyes - but found the music a bit loud himself now that he thought about it.

As the first notes of ‘Oh Promise Me’ began to play, the flower girl (Allistaire’s youngest sister) started her passage down the aisle, tossing out rose petals as she went. The sweet young girl looked almost like a daisy herself in a beautiful pale green dress with a little white camisole top and flowers adorning her hair. There was a hushed chorus of adoring ‘Ohhh’s’ from the grandmothers seated on both sides of the aisle as the girl passed. But when she neared the pew where Brian and Justin were seated, the blond man’s echoing ‘Ohh’ was immediately followed by the boy bolting out of his seat, crouching down on the carpet behind the girl in order to pick up as many of the fallen rose petals as he could and a quiet, “Psst. I think you dropped these.” All before Brian realized what was going on or could stop his interfering OCD date.

“That's kinda the whole point,” the saucy little flower girl said, looking at the kneeling blond man with a contemptuous eight-year-old glare.

“Sunshine. Just leave it. I'll explain later,” Brian said as he pulled the boy back into the pew next to him.

“But she dropped her flowers, Just Brian. Won't she need them later?”

“No. She'll be fine, Justin . . . Just relax and watch. Okay?” Brian hissed and wrapped his arm around the boy so he couldn't possibly bolt again.

Next, both grooms started their descent down the aisle hand in hand. Allistaire and Marvin were positively stunning in their matching black Vera Wang tuxedos with satin pewter-colored vests and complementary pewter houndstooth patterned ascots worn with pristine white wing tip tuxedo shirts. Each ascot was embellished with a creamy white pearl stick pin that matched the simple, yet lovely white roses on each man’s lapel. They walked sedately, but with light steps, arm in arm all the way down the aisle. When they arrived at the appointed spot before the minister, Allistaire and Marvin turned so they were facing each other and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Allistaire and Marvin . . .” the preacher intoned as soon as the pair was positioned in front of him, which served to quiet down any lingering noise from the assembled crowd.

Except, of course, for Justin. "They're so beautiful," Justin's voice rang out clearly through the almost silent church. "They’re like beautiful dolls, they're so pretty.” Tears were running unheeded down his flushed cheeks, and his sniffling was audible for several rows in either direction.

“Here, honey,” the elderly woman seated in the pew behind them handed Justin a wad of crumpled Kleenex which she pulled out from the depths of her ample bosom. “I never go to a wedding without being prepared.”

The boy nodded at her, accepted the tissues and dabbed at his eyes. Brian just gave an incredulous look as the lady pulled another tissue from her cleavage as if it were some kind of pop-up tissue box. There was even a small corner of the next tissue peaking out between those plentiful globes waiting to be plucked free. Brian shook his head ‘no’ when she politely offered him one, and turned back to his own sniffling date.

“Fucking weddings . . . they make even the toughest guy develop a twat and turn a whole church full of fags into a bunch of sniveling lesbians . . .” Brian muttered under his breath even as he snaked an arm around Justin's shoulders and squeezed the young man with the leaking blue eyes tighter to his side.

With the nuptials officially done and over, everyone headed back to the Dennison’s mansion for the reception. The wedding party had taken over the limo, of course, so Brian and Justin were forced to ride back to the huge mansion in Portland’s West Hills with one of the other guests instead. Unfortunately, their designated ride turned out to be one of the other White Party revelers that Brian recognized from the rehearsal dinner the night before.

“So how did you enjoy the ceremony, Stud?” the party goer sneered accusingly, looking directly at Brian via the rearview mirror. “I’m surprised you lasted through the whole thing. I figured you'd burst into flames when you first stepped foot into the church.”

“It was short and sweet. Just the way I like anything that has to happen in a church,” Brian replied succinctly without letting on that the man had in any way insulted him. “And speaking of the fires of hell, aren’t you the hypocrite? Based on what I remember from our time together in Chicago, I could say the same about you and your predilection for getting gang banged by any and all comers. And I do mean CUMMERS.”

“Pot meet kettle, big man, because if I remember correctly you weren’t exactly wearing a chastity belt, my friend. In fact, the way I saw it, anything that was still moving, you tried to screw. I heard you were cumming buckets over just about every single ass in sight,” the driver said with a backwards sneer. “I ALSO very vividly remember one particular partner of yours from that evening - even if you don’t. This specific partygoer probably shouldn't have even been there, of course, since his own ‘Partner’ didn't know about that party or that his finance was in attendance. But that’s between the two of them, of course. What I do recall about you, though, Stud, was the way you treated poor Allie like a piece of trash the next morning when you threw him out of your room practically naked at the same time you were showing in your next trick. It would be a real shame if someone were to find out about all of that.”

“Well, Kettle, at least I wasn’t everyone’s cum bucket. And, as for whoever it is you're alluding to that seems to have been someplace they shouldn’t have been, that's hardly my fault, now is it? I didn't force anyone to bend over or drop to their knees for me and ‘Allie’ should have known to get the fuck out before he wore out his welcome. I think you're probably more upset that I didn't fuck YOU, than that I treated your friend like the trick he was. But you know what, go ahead and blab if you think that'll help your friend out in some way. I’m sure that I could entertain the guests equally well with a recounting of your debauchery. And I’m not your friend, asshole.”

At least the mutual exchange of barbs was cut short at this point when the car pulled up to the front entrance of the Dennison’s mansion. Brian barely waited for the car to come to a stop before he was bustling himself and Justin out. There was nothing Brian hated worse than hypocrites. Except maybe hypocrites who were pissed off because he hadn't fucked them and who were now willing to rat someone else out for revenge. I mean, really, Allistaire hadn’t said anything, so why would this guy care that much? Brian figured it was just another case of sour grapes gone really bad. But it did leave him with a very uneasy feeling.

Justin was looking up at Brian with a very confused expression on his face. He wondered why they were talking about pots and kettles, coming buckets (whatever the hell those were - as opposed to buckets you'd already gone past, maybe?) and tricks. Were there going to be magicians at the party doing card tricks or making little balloon animals? He didn’t think so, but it would be a nice surprise if that happened to be the case. But what confused him further, was what Allistaire had to do with the pots, kettles and coming buckets that Brian and their driver were so angrily fixed on. Justin figured it must have been some pretty important cookware for them to be shouting at each other about it like this. Justin may not have understood what was going on between them, but he would be sure to ask Brian about what he’d overheard when they got inside. Something felt very off to Justin and it made him uncomfortable.

The festive atmosphere inside rapidly dispelled Justin’s unease though. There was music and beautiful flowers and food and so many people. It was like a scene out his mother’s favorite television show - Dallas - with all the gorgeous people in their most elegant clothing. Only this time it was real and Justin got to be a part of it. It was enough to take his breath and hold it captive for an eternity.

When Justin froze just inside the doorway to the ballroom where the main festivities were being held, Brian looked at the boy and then quickly pulled him aside. “What’s wrong, Sunshine?”

“I’ve never been to a party before. There’s so many people . . . What am I supposed to do?”

“You’ve never been to a party? Any party? Ever?” Brian was pretty much speechless at this shocking disclosure. “What about a birthday party when you were a kid? Or maybe for the holidays?” Justin was shaking his head at each of Brian’s suggestions, though.

“No, not ever. Not birthdays or holidays, or any day. My mother always told me that parties were the devil’s playground, and I didn’t want to go to Hell because of all those sins you’d be trapped into at a party. My mother said that the kinds of people who went to parties would be committing too many sins to count.” Justin confessed sadly. “Besides, there was never anyone to have a party with. My mother didn’t like for people to come into the house. And I wasn’t allowed to go outside . . . Until the day my mother died and they came to take me to the hospital, I’d never been out of my house.”

“Shit, Justin . . .”

Brian had no idea what to say in response to that disclosure. He couldn’t really fathom the kind of life Justin had lived under such stringent restrictions. To never be allowed to leave his house was bad. But to never have even SEEN a party? To never have had any experiences at all outside what little he could glean about life from the narrow perspective of a television screen? To have been told, repeatedly, that everything that was fun or happy was somehow evil? It was as if Justin had been his mother’s own personal POW, for her to torture whenever it suited her sick, twisted, sadistic fancy.

“Well, once again, your mother was wrong, Justin. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and parties are supposed to be enjoyable,” Brian insisted. “You don’t have to be nervous. Now, repeat after me, ‘my mother didn’t know shit’!”

Justin giggled, wrinkled up his nose adorably and shook his head, unable to say that word even though Brian told him to.

“Come on Justin, say it,” Brian prodded him further. “My mother didn’t know shit. And I’m allowed to have fun and go to parties and kiss my boyfriend whenever I want! You can do it, Justin. Come on. Just say it!”

“My mother . . .” Justin still hesitated, but Brian was looking at him expectantly and nodding his head encouragingly, so the boy took a deep breath and went on. “My mother didn’t know . . . ‘s-h-i-t’,” Justin spelled the word since he still didn’t think he could SAY it. “And I’m allowed to have fun and go to parties and kiss my boyfriend . . . and paint my toenails blue!” *hehehehe*

“That’s my boy!” Brian praised him and then swooped in and kissed him smack dab on his pouty raspberry lips, which kept his newly excited blond quiet for exactly 2.5 seconds.

As soon as their lips parted, however, Justin continued on with his laundry list of things he’d found out he was allowed to do. “Oh, and almost get hand jobs from big fat men in dancing places. And drink perfume and eat fish babies and . . . And . . . What else am I allowed to do this weekend, Brian?”

“And dance!” Brian exclaimed as he heard the band start into a new song.

Brian immediately gathered the eager boy in his strong arms and began waltzing him into the reception. After a few minutes of fancy spins and dips, the music changed to a song with a more upbeat tempo. Maroon 5’s “Moves Like Jagger” came blaring through the speakers and the former waltzing boy instantly became a Soul Train line dancer. Brian just stepped back, slackjawed, and watched his little foundling in awe as the boy bumped and grinded his way through the middle of the dance floor.

“Justin, how on earth did you ever learn to move like that?” Brian asked when the boy took advantage of a transition in the music to freeze in place momentarily.

“Ummm . . . from watching VH1.” Justin blushed so prettily that Brian had to turn his head to keep from outright laughing at Justin’s endearing discomfort. “That’s kinda all my mother would let me watch. That and TVLand and sometimes Nick at Nite. I liked VH1 the best though. I love to dance.”

“Well, why don’t you show me some of those fancy moves. I’m sure I won’t look half as good as you doing it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“Sure! I can even teach you how to do the electric slide . . . I’ll go see if the music man will play it.” Justin ran off excitedly in the direction of the D.J. booth, whispered something into the man’s ear and, just as quickly, he was back at Brian’s side pulling him into the middle of the makeshift dance floor, explaining to Brian the basic steps of the Electric slide. “Shuffle three steps to the right, then to the left, three backward steps, two front dips and a hop turn on the left foot. See, it’s easy!” Justin beamed as he just started gliding and sliding in circles all around a baffled Brian.

And, while Brian muddled through a couple of halting steps, egged on by the dancing queen, the music started up and Justin took off. Brian did his best to follow along - which was saying a lot for someone who previous to meeting Justin wouldn’t have been caught dead line dancing. Luckily for everyone at the reception, there were a few other folks there who actually knew the dance. They immediately joined Justin and by their example encouraged others to come up and try as well. Before long, there were about forty people up on the dance floor boogie-ing their little hearts out in unison and the grooms hadn’t even arrived yet!

“It’s Electric!…..Boogie woogie woogie…. He’s sure got the boogie!” The music kept playing, and everyone kept turning and dipping, following along behind the bopping blond boy, and having such a damn good time that when the grooms did finally arrive, no one even noticed.

Finally, after the third repetition of the song, the D.J. let the music fade out and the dancers all cheered, with the celebration ending in a standing ovation for Justin and Brian since they had started the whole thing. Justin was flushed from the exercise and looked more angelic than ever. Brian took a step back and joined in the applause for his talented date, eventually encouraging Justin to take a bow before the kid could scamper off the dance floor.

And Justin had even managed to get through the whole dance with his shoes ON!