“Bri, you are not going to believe this!”

Brian looked up from downloading the reports the clipping service had just sent him.

“You actually fucked more than one man in 24 hours? Oh, wait, sorry, that was rude. You fucked ONE man in 24 hours.” Brian smirked, taking in the expression on Ted’s face.

It didn’t last long; Ted broke into a gentle smile after the initial shock. “Well, it’s good to see you up to your old bitchiness,” he replied. “And I’ll have you know that I have fucked far more than 2 men in a short period of time. Of course, I was tweaked out of my mind. And I don’t remember it. And, I didn’t actually consent…”

That wiped Brian’s smirk clean. He pressed his lips together, schooling his face to careful neutrality. “If you don’t remember, how do you know?”

“It was caught on video tape. Lucky me, huh?”

Brian remained still, watching Ted’s gaze drift somewhere over the wall. Ted snapped back into the present, and offered a weak smile. “That’s what got me into rehab. So, I guess, the shock of seeing myself on screen like that, knowing what happened to me…” He shrugged.

“Are you trying to tell me that being raped was fine because of the lessons you learned?” Brian’s voice dripped sarcasm.

“No! No, of course not.”

“Good. So…”

“…but my life is a lot better now than it was then. Hell, it’s better now than it was even before the drugs.”

“Did you want something, Theodore?”

Ted knew the tone. “Oh! Right, you’ll never guess!”

Brian pushed his chair back, stretched his legs out, and folded his arms over his chest. “Since I’m the owner and CEO of this little endeavor and you are the lowly worker, I would say I don’t have to guess. I would say you’re going to tell me, or I’m going to fire your ass.” CFO, lowly worker. Whatever.

“Bri, if you only knew how attractive you make the whole embezzlement/Brazil thing sound sometimes… Okay, okay!” Ted actually laughed, holding his hands up. “I was just contacted by Randall Hicks…”

“I’m assuming he found our campaign brilliant? Although, knowing that man’s taste…” Brian shuddered, remembering the outfit Hicks had worn to their last meeting. Like Justin on a bad day. Or a day when he was pissed off at Brian, and determined to offend him. Brian’s mind skittered away. No need to punish himself.

Kinnetik had gone with the Spanish Inquisition theme for the SpyWhip ad, and Brian knew it was good. Really, really good. Ted had let Andrea keep in the hanging victim, and of course it had been the right thing to do. Most importantly, Brian could look at the ad critically, and see its effect, the tiny imperfections that wouldn’t have happened if he’d been on top of things.

So here he was, back at work, but energized by it again, such a relief! Everything was running behind, and he dove back in. Justin was back to looking worried, but it was only because Justin thought Brian was working himself too hard.

“Brian,” he had breathed in bed the night before after Brian had dragged himself in around midnight. “You’re still not 100%. You need to take better care of yourself.”

“Fine,” Brian had answered. “Call me after nine and tell me to get my ass home.” What the fuck had he been thinking? Or, not thinking, more to the point. It must have been the post-coital mellow thing. He vowed to make sure Justin was incapable of speech at that critical period from here on out.

Justin hadn’t really responded to that, anyway; he’d merely shrugged and said, “I think I’ll just start staying home with Daphne. I won’t worry that way.”

Yeah. Justin, not worry. He realized he was grinning slightly, and Ted was looking at him funny. Brian scowled, and said, “Yeah, so what does the little rat boy want now?”

“Actually, he wants to retire to the Bahamas.” Ted’s grin spread right across his face. “Semantic Systems bought him out.”

Brian’s breath stopped. “How much?”

“One hundred fifty million. Or thereabouts.” A small giggle escaped.

“And how much do we get of that?”

“Twenty percent.”

Twenty percent of a hundred and fifty million. Brian stared, and then he felt his mouth twitch at the left side, uncontrollably. He finally just stopped fighting and let himself laugh.

“HOLY FUCK!!!!”

“Yeah, not a bad return for a seventy-five thou outlay, huh?”

“Hey, guys, y’all seem happy.” Cynthia walked in with a sheaf of documents, which she proceeded to drop on Brian’s desk. “We’re all expecting big holiday bonuses, you know.”

“How do you know…” Ted gaped at her.

“She’s a bat. Sonic hearing,” Brian answered, picking up the papers.

“Nah, I bug the office,” Cynthia shot back. “You’ve got a call on line three.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “I thought I wanted my calls held.”

“Except for a certain blond…” Ted put in, then wished he’d shut up with the look Brian shot him.

“Even him.”

“Unless it’s an emergency,” Cynthia added with a grin.

“Funny how much of an emergency a decent blow job becomes at certain times of the day,” Ted put in.

“Oh, the stories I could tell…” Cynthia went on.

Brian opened his mouth to say something cutting, but Cynthia cut him off instead. “It’s Don. Your Mercedes is in.”

She sure knew how to distract him, Ted thought, watching Brian practically lunge for the phone. Yep, dangle the luxuries and the man jumps. I’m gonna have to remember that, Ted thought.

***

Justin’s cell phone rang as he got out of class. He grinned as he noted the caller I.D. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself. I have the car service waiting for you at the Administration building, right out front. Go and get in it.” Brian hung up.

Justin groaned. Damn it! He and Brian were going to have to have That Talk again. Justin could feel his blood rise, and he muttered, “God damn it, Kinney! How many times do I have to tell you, ask me first! Or even, make sure I’m available! I’m not your fucking puppet, what, just pull a string and bam! I jump…” He stopped muttering when he noticed the funny looks he was getting for talking to himself as he stomped across campus. Toward the Administrative building. Of course.

***

He got out of the car at the Mercedes dealership, and thanked the driver before closing the door behind him. The man drove off. Justin walked toward the building, sighing as he looked at the beautiful cars inside. One day, he thought. For now, Brian just wanted to show off his new toy. Well, fine, Justin thought, he deserves a nice car. Especially after what happened to his last one.

“Justin! Over here!”

Justin turned toward Brian’s voice, and saw him leaning up against a midnight blue CLK350 coupe. He walked over, smiling. It was a gorgeous car, classic Mercedes lines, two doors, although Justin was a bit surprised at the color; dark blue didn’t seem much like Brian. And a back seat. Definitely not Brian… well, maybe for putting the front seats down. He placed his hand on the car’s hood, and let his fingertips trail down the smooth metal as he walked toward the slim man whose lines perfectly accented the car’s. “Nice car, Brian,” he said. “Is this what you dragged me out of class for?”

“Your class was over at four,” Brian responded, grabbing him by the belt loop of his jeans and pulling him in to kiss, leisurely.

“Brian!” Justin gasped, pulling back. He got nervous when Brian touched him, outside of Liberty Avenue and its environs. Yet another leftover from the bashing. Fucking Hobbes.

“They’re not going to care, I just paid cash down,” Brian laughed at him, but he pulled back, and settled for burying a hand in Justin’s hair, tugging slightly and letting the strands slide through his fingers.

“It’s a nice car,” Justin continued, pulling away, and looking at the vehicle, peering in through the windows to the front seat.

“Glad you like it, since that’s not the car I picked up for myself. Meet your new car, Sunshine.”

Shock. Utter. Shock. Justin froze for just a moment, while his brain shorted. Brian bought him a car. Brian bought me a car! His stomach shot up into his throat at the thought, Brian bought me a car! Excited, oh, yes. Stomach flipping with the knowledge of this declaration. Brian bought me an expensive car. He loves me. He soooo loves me!!!

And then, of course, his brain kicked in for real. “You bought me a car? Brian, you bought me a MERCEDES?”

“Well…” Brian’s face screwed up as he considered how to answer.

“God damn it, Brian, you keep telling me that I’m not your fucking wife but then you treat me like a kept man! It’s bad enough you’re paying for school…”

Brian grabbed him and kissed him hard, then pulled back, and said, “Shut up. I need a car with a back seat at my disposal. And, don’t make the obvious joke. If it makes you feel better, your name’s on the title because it’s easier to deal with the insurance that way.”

“No it isn’t,” Justin scoffed, but Brian went on as if he hadn’t said anything.

“…besides, I bought this one just this afternoon…” He kicked the side of the car lightly with his boot as Justin winced… “off the floor. That’s my car, the one I ordered weeks ago.” He finished with a smirk, nodding down the parking lot, as the salesman drove up to where they stood. He parked, and exited from the deep red SL600 roadster. Justin gaped at the gorgeous, two-seat convertible.

“It’s burgundy,” Brian informed him as he sauntered over to the car, and touched its hood reverently. “Burgundy.”

Justin just gaped. “You bought two cars?”

Brian tore his gaze from the car and glanced back at Justin. “I told you, we really do need one with a back seat, and the roadster doesn’t have that. And, since you’re the king of the back seats…”

“That’s King of Babylon, thank you very much,” Justin corrected, grinning. “But, seriously. Brian. You can’t buy me a car.”

Brian turned to the salesman. “Are we all set, Don?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Kinney,” Don replied, handing Brian the keys. “All yours. And the coupe’s keys are in the ignition, all ready for Mr. Taylor.”

“Justin,” Justin introduced himself, holding out his hand for Don to shake. “Thank you, these are gorgeous vehicles.”

“Yeah, they are, your… uh, your, um… Mr. Kinney has great taste.” Don glanced over at Brian nervously as he let go of Justin’s hand.

Justin poked Brian in the ribs as Brian started laughing at Don’s discomfort. “Thanks, Don,” Justin finally said.

Don moved over to the coupe, and took a sheaf of papers off the front seat. “Here you go, Justin. Just sign at the x’s and she’s all yours…” Justin glanced over at Brian, who watched impassively.

Not the time to protest, not with Don as witness. He wouldn’t embarrass Brian that way. He took a deep breath, and signed on the dotted lines.

Don shook Brian’s hand. “Mr. Kinney, it’s been a great pleasure.” He walked away, whistling.

Justin turned to Brian, arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t accept this, Brian.”

“Why not?” Brian leaned back on the car, pulling Justin to him, but Justin pushed away, needing the distance, if only of a few feet.

“I can’t drive onto campus in this! Granted, I’ll look fucking hot,” he smirked as Brian nodded, “But, seriously. The only people who drive this kind of cars are trust fund kids.”

“What do you care what people think?”

“I don’t! Well. Maybe I do. It’s just, that trust fund thing, it’s just not me.”

“No, you’re the one with the obscenely wealthy man in your life who wants to spoil you shamelessly.” Now Brian’s arms had crossed over his chest, but Justin was past heeding the warning signs of Brian reaching his limits.

“But that’s just fucking it!” Justin almost yelled. He toned his voice down, conscious they were in public. “You keep spoiling me, then you take it all back! You tell me I’m not your fucking wife, and I know that, but then you try to take care of me as if I’m the weaker half of some sort of fucked up unit, where you get to dictate my not thinking of myself in any way attached to you, god forbid! You bail me out in New York, pay for my school, but then you turn around and tell me not to think I’m in any sort of relationship! and now you go and do something so fucking sweet like buying me a car because you know I need one, and oh my GOD a Mercedes!! I love it and I want it but how can I accept it when I can’t do anything that would define me as your little woman!” He paused, shaking. God, Justin hated surprises. So much.

Brian’s arms had dropped to his side. He took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. “Labels again,” he finally responded, trying to laugh a bit, but Justin was having none of it, and Brian became serious, responding to Justin’s pleading look. “When we got back together, you said you knew what to expect.”

“Yeah, I knew to expect nothing at all.”

That stopped Brian dead. “Really? That’s what you meant?”

“What did you hear me saying, Brian? Really.”

“You agreed to accept me the way I was. The tricking. The withholding which, okay, I know can come across as harsh. My lack of sentimentality. My fucked up view on life in general. AND I heard that you expected that I would take my time, on my terms, with whatever happened between us, and that you realized how fucked up and difficult I can be and you promised me you would be patient.”

“You heard that?” That stopped Justin’s furious momentum.

“Yes. That’s what I heard. But why do you think you can expect all the hard stuff, but you can’t expect that your obscenely wealthy…” He paused.

“What? What exactly am I to you? Define us, Mr. Label Queen.” Justin looked directly into Brian’s gaze, refusing to drop it, his eyes so vulnerable; Brian felt something just give in his chest.

“Justin.” Brian reached out, pulled him against him. “You should expect the material support that comes from being half of a partnership in which one of the partners makes a lot of money. You should expect that, too.”

“Partners?”

“Yes. You don’t like it? That I think of us that way?”

“No! I mean, yes!” Justin was so flustered for a moment, he was not certain how to answer. “I mean, yes, I like it, but it’s not exactly equal…” He pushed off Brian’s chest, and glanced at the cars.

Brian let out a bark of laughter. “Are you shitting me? Yeah, I make a ton of money.” He hesitated. “And you’ve been amazing in other ways, especially the last couple of months. I put you through a lot.”

“You were going through a lot.” Justin’s voice had come all the way down to his normal pitch.

“That’s what I mean,” Brian answered. “You were feeling what I was feeling.” He was looking away, and Justin reached out to touch his jaw, and turn his head back to face him. Brian had that uncertain look he’d been showing in glimpses since the night he’d thrown himself out of that trick’s car. “You grounded me.”

“Really?”

“Really. Of course, I couldn’t give in and not fight it, that just wouldn’t be me…”

Justin rolled his eyes and nodded, starting to smile.

“…but you are not the weak one in this. You are not the little wife. There is nothing little about your role here. So I make more money. We need cars, I’ve supplied them. And when we needed…”

“Emotional support?” Justin supplied.

“Yeah, that. You bring that. See? It’s all about balance.”

Justin snorted, but ignored the irony. “Partners?”

“Yeah, partners. You bring what you have. And I do the same, in this case, cars, which we need. And you bring stability. Seriously, Justin. Fuck stupid rules. This is us, we make it work.”

“I would have been happy with the Jeep.”

“I’m just going to give the jeep to Mikey. He’ll worship it in memory of the Kinney Mystique.” Brian smirked. “And we can put up with him bitching that it’s broken down and in for repairs, over and over. And you can tell me it’s symbolic, and I’ll roll my eyes, and then we’ll argue over whose Mercedes we’re taking to Deb’s for dinner.” Brian pulled away and moved around to the driver’s side of his roadster. He slid behind the wheel, caressing it with his fingertips.

Justin snickered.

“Anyway, fuck the Jeep, it’s time for an upgrade.”

Justin walked over to the driver’s side door, and placed his hand over Brian’s, on the wheel. They held each other for just a moment. Then, Justin asked, “So, why does my car need a back seat?”

“For Gus,” Brian finally answered, looking up. “I love the roadster, so I bought it, but…” he shrugged. “He needs to be in a child seat, right? In the back? But it wasn’t like I was going to give up this car. Yeah, I know, selfish…”

“You deserve beautiful things that suit you, you don’t need to apologize for wanting them.”

“I wasn’t apologizing! And, none of us deserve shit. I wanted it, that’s all, and I can afford it, so. Plus, Kinnetik got a huge commission today, so really, the coupe was a perfect bonus. It suits all our needs. And I’m getting really sick of driving your ass to and from school. It’s incredibly inconvenient.”

“Hey!” Justin exclaimed, straightening up. He had been leaning down, drawn towards the pretty, sexy prettiness that was Brian Kinney. For some odd reason, Justin found him physically irresistible when he got defensive. That probably explained their entire dysfunctional relationship. “So, when you’re driving the coupe with Gus, do I get to drive this?”

Brian snorted loudly, not even bothering to answer, and started the car. “Go get your ass in your car and drive home. I got an extra space in the garage, just stop and ask Chuck where it is. And if he tells you the roof, tell him I’m going to kick his ass.” With that, Brian put the car in gear, and accelerated hard out of the parking lot. Justin watched the car kick up to 60 in about two seconds. “Wow,” he muttered, then turned back to the Mercedes coupe.

“But, I live with Daphne,” Justin thought, biting his lip. There was no WAY Brian would let him park the car there. Oh, well, that’s what cabs were for, right?

He opened the coupe’s door, sat in the driver’s seat, and breathed in the rich leather, the smell of new car. “Okay,” he said one last time, turning the key in the ignition. The car started so smoothly he practically couldn’t tell it was running. He looked down. At a stick shift. Oh, shit. He turned the car off, and got out, looking around for Don. Someone had to teach him to drive a stick.

***

“Hello?”

“Um, excuse me? Who’s this?”

“It’s Don, Mr. Kinney, I’m answering Justin’s phone.”

“Is he trying to trade up? or down?” What. The. Fuck?

“No, no! of course not! Just giving him a little lesson in using a manual drive.”

Silence. Then, a snort. “Let me talk to him.”

In the background, Brian heard Justin say, “I can’t talk now, I’m driving. Tell him I’m doing fine, his car is fine, it’s all fine, chill the fuck out!”

“Mr. Kinney, Justin’s doing very well…”

Brian cut him off. He didn’t have time for Don’s translations. “Yeah, yeah, I heard him. Tell him to learn fast and get his ass home.”

***

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t drive a stick?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were buying me a car with a manual shift?”

Impasse. They smirked at each other across the kitchen. “So, how’s the ride?”

“It’s amazing!” Justin crossed the space to give Brian a quick hug, then moved away to open the refrigerator door. He grabbed a bottle of beer, which Brian promptly plucked out of his hand. “No drink for you, you’re going to be driving again in five minutes.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“Fine.” Justin grabbed a bottle of water, swallowed a big gulp, then looked up sheepishly. “Brian?”

“What?”

“Thank you. It’s a beautiful gift.”

Brian rewarded him with a half-smile, but then said, “It’s really for us.”

“Yeah, of course. It has nothing to do with wanting to get your partner a kick-ass vehicle which he can really use…”

Brian snorted.

“When he would have been thrilled with flowers or chocolates!”

“Flowers and chocolates are for dykes. Please tell me you don’t still want those things.”

Justin shook his head. “Nope. Don’t want flowers. Just want you.” He started shrugging out of his coat, only to feel Brian’s hand at the back of his neck, holding the garment in place.

“Not so fast, we have to take the coupe out on the road again. Like I said, you’re driving.”

“Back-seat Betty,” Justin muttered.

“The coupe is NOT female. Back-seat Butch.”

“Where are we going?” Justin asked as he followed Brian out of the loft. The name was already stuck in his head. Off to drive Back-seat Betty.

“We are going to look at child seats, and then we are fitting Butch up with one. I called around while you were learning to drive…”

Justin rolled his eyes, entering the elevator as Brian punched the ground floor button. “I know how to drive.”

“…and The Child’s Palace has the model I want.”

“Why do I have to go?” Justin asked, thinking of the homework he had waiting for him.

“You think I’m going into a store called ‘The Child’s Palace’ alone? Hell, no.”

“What do you care what people think?” Justin mocked him, drawing on the perfect opening and firing.

Brian’s sour look assured him he’d found his mark, and Justin’s smile widened.

“Little shit,” Brian muttered. “Just for that, I’m telling the sales people I knocked you up.”

***

“It was fine!” Justin practically yelled at Brian’s back, as Brian preceded him into the diner.

“Yeah, we’re going to let you practice under my direct supervision before you drive Butch again.”

“Betty likes me handling her.”

“Yeah, cars love it when you strip their gears.”

Justin gritted his teeth, sliding into the booth across from Brian. “It was a very slight miscalculation. Besides, Don assured me it’s perfectly natural for it to happen at first…”

“You did it more than once!” Brian was about to yell further, but Debbie’s stomping over to their booth interrupted him. “Coffee, Deb?” Brian asked.

“How about a paper, asshole!” she practically yelled back, throwing the paper at him, folded back so the bottom of page five lay face-up.

“It was once,” Justin corrected, “and I did fine for a beginner!”

“It was not…” Brian’s voice trailed off, as he stared down at the paper. His skin turned a nasty shade of paste. Justin glanced at the paper, reading upside down.

“Man Killed…”

Shit. Justin scooted quickly out of his side of the booth and over to Brian’s, reading over his shoulder.

An unidentified man was attacked and killed early yesterday morning in an alley off Pickering Street in downtown Pittsburgh. He was last seen leaving Pistol, a local gay club, with a blonde man in a leather jacket. The name of the victim has not been released pending notification of relatives. Anyone with information regarding this matter is asked to call the Pittsburgh Police Department.