Peter and John followed Bill into the barn.

"Yuck!" Peter said. "This place stinks."

"It doesn't stink," Bill replied. "Wait till we get to the manure pile. Now that stinks!"

"What do you mean? Manure … pile?" John asked putting the emphasis on the last word. He didn't like the sound of a pile of stuff that smelled like this barn. He watched where he placed his feet afraid that he was going to step in something disgusting.

"Grab one of those shovels each," Bill ordered.

"Why do we need a shovel?" John asked fearfully.

"There's lots of shit to shovel," Bill said with a chuckle that sent shivers up each boy's back. He led them over to Mercury's stall. That was the name of the gelding that John had been riding. He stopped beside the stall. "Shovel up the straw and whatever else is in there and I'll show you where to put it."

The brothers looked wild eyed at each other. They wanted to run, but they didn't know where the fuck they were or where they could run to. Each picked up a shovel and entered the square stall. The odor that they had found offensive before was magnified ten times inside the small box. They looked down to see two piles of still steaming shit.

"I'm not touching that," Peter almost whimpered.

"You don't have to touch it," Bill said calmly. "Just scoop it onto the shovel and I'll show you what to do with it."

"I … I can't," Peter gulped.

"You'll be surprised by what you can do at the end of a couple of weeks," Bill told them confidently.

Neither brother had any idea what that statement meant, and they didn't want to know what other gross and disgusting things they were going to be ordered to do. Peter wished he had stayed on the porch at home or run away at the rest stop. Anything that happened to him in those places couldn't possibly be worse than this. John just stared in disbelief.

"Get a move on," Bill said. "Dinner is in twenty minutes."

"I'm not hungry," Peter stated feeling his stomach turn over.

"Fine. We don't force you to eat."

"Then I'm not cleaning up this fucking shit!" Peter said defiantly.

"If you make that decision, you should know that you won't be eating until this stall is cleaned out. It's your responsibility. By tomorrow morning there will be more shit waiting for you, and the smell will be even worse. Not much fun on an empty stomach," Bill explained reasonably.

"You … you … you can't starve us and make us do slave labor," Peter said trying to sound strong and confident. It came out more like a whine.

"I think we can. You wouldn't be here if your guardian hadn't okayed it."

John looked at Bill. He knew the man was right. Their mother had given them to Uncle Brian. She wanted them straightened out, and this was the method of doing that. Nobody was going to save them. They were doomed to this place. John lifted his shovel and set it behind one of the piles of shit. He held his nose as he lifted it up.

"Follow me," Bill said. He led the boy out to the large manure pile behind the barn. "Throw it up on top."

John gave a heave with the shovel and then backed quickly away. He had visions of the shit raining down on his head. His little pile hit with a smack and stuck to the rest of the crap in the foul smelling heap. John turned to look at Bill as Peter emerged from the barn carrying his shovel of shit. Bill nodded towards the pile and Peter threw his on top. Both boys turned to look at Bill for approval.

"Step one," Bill said. "Now we spread some fresh hay in the stall."

The boys managed to do that with no trouble. Bill had tied Mercury outside. He waited for the boys to finish with the hay. When they came out he had curry brushes ready for them to rub down Mercury. He showed them how to do it and both boys began the task.

Mercury loved to be curried and they always started newcomers off working with the gelding. You could almost see the horse sighing in contentment. He nuzzled John's neck as the boy worked on his front flank. John giggled and patted Mercury's nose as the horse whinnied his approval. When they were finished with the brushing, Bill handed each of them a carrot and they fed Mercury. The horse nuzzled their hands as he looked for more food. They smiled at each other liking the soft feel of the horse's tongue against the palms of their hands.

"Let's get this fella settled for the night," Bill said as he led Mercury back into the barn. He handed the lead to Peter who clucked as Bill had done and got the horse into his stall. John latched the door behind the horse. They each scratched Mercury's nose and said goodnight.

"Could we maybe ride him?" Peter asked.

"That's a privilege to be earned," Bill replied. "If you do your chores and stay out of trouble, I don't see why you won't be riding Mercury in a couple of days." The brothers smiled. "Hungry?" Bill asked. Peter and John nodded. "Dinner should be ready."

They walked together over to the cookhouse.

******************************************

When Steve arrived for the barbecue, everyone looked up waiting to hear what had happened with the demon brothers. Steve grinned as he sat down.

"So did they muck out the stall?" Justin asked.

"Oh, yeah!"

"C'mon, Steve, spill. We want to hear all about it," John said.

Steve looked at Brian who had not said anything. Steve could tell the man was holding his breath waiting to see if any headway had been made with the boys. He quickly recounted what Bill had told him.

"They were eating their well-earned dinner when I left to come up here."

"I can't believe they shoveled the shit," Brian said shaking his head. "That had to be a humbling experience for them."

"That's the premise of the farm," John said. "These boys think their food comes from supermarkets and the most labor they ever do is carrying out the trash if somebody can make them do it. On the farm they have to work in order to get food, they have nowhere to run to, and they have only us inflexible old coots who don't give in. We always win."

"I bet it looks good on them," Brian said.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Steve chuckled as he dug into his steak.

******************************************

Halfway through dinner Bobby, who had an early shift at the Honey Bear, showed up. Claire immediately set out a plate heaped with barbecued ribs, grilled vegetables and a lightly buttered ear of corn. Brian raised an eyebrow at the overflowing plate, then grinned at John.

"What, you think your boy is the only twink around here with an appetite?"

The brothers started to giggle as said offended twinks fired back in unison, "I'm not a twink!" More giggles were shared as everyone settled in to enjoy Claire's fine repast.

After dinner the 'men' decided to sit back and enjoy the clear warm evening on the porch. Brian wanted to learn more about Steve's agenda for his nephews. Justin, who had quite enough of them during the ride to the farm, helped Claire with kitchen duty then followed her up to the attic.

Carrying lanterns, they found an old end table to set the lanterns on. "It's over here, Justin, in this corner. I might not have ever seen it but for a spider."

"A spider?!" Justin, who had many allergies, especially to bug bites, jumped at the thought of sharing his personal space with a spider.

"Don't worry; I think I scared it more than it scared me. I'm sure it's long gone. Besides spiders are the good guys."

"The good guys?"

"Yes, spiders keep the bad bugs from running amuck. I try to leave them alone except when they decide to take up residence in one of my cupboards."

"Oh. So how did the spider help you to find the trunk?"

"As I said before, I knew I had a nice crocheted table cloth up here. I was looking around for it and was startled by the spider. I followed it back to its web and found this old trunk hidden under this drop cloth. I must have been up here hundreds of times, with Patience, and with John when he was a boy. We use this attic a lot for storage but I've never noticed this trunk. I think it was waiting for you and Brian to come here before it decided to show itself."

"What makes you think it belonged to the artist? It could have belonged to Patience or Aidan."

"Look at the initials on it. They're faded but you can make them out."

Justin held a lantern closer to the front of the trunk. Under the lantern's warm glow, he was just able to make out the initials, J.A.B.K.

"Wow, I think you're right. Did you open it?"

"No. Something told me to wait for you."

"Claire, do you think there's something in it that may hurt your family or Brian?"

"I'm not worried about me but I am concerned for John and for Brian too. They're both still adjusting to this new family. That's why I prefer to show you rather than John or Brian. If it's a bunch of old canvases then we have nothing to worry about. But if the trunk is hiding some deep dark secret, I'd prefer them not to know about it. I don't condone lying but if it keeps them safe, I'll do it. And the owner of the trunk is long gone. I don't think he'd care at this point."

Claire and Justin gingerly removed the drop cloth from the trunk trying to avoid the dust from making them sneeze. Justin dragged the trunk to the center of the attic so that he and Claire would have more room to work. The old lock on the front of the trunk was rusted through and practically broke by itself.

"Here goes nothing," Justin said as the old hinges gave way and allowed Justin to get a look at its contents.

"You're right, Claire, there are some old canvases in here. This looks just like my trunk at home."

"Your trunk?"

"Yes. I have a trunk similar to this that I store my supplies in. Kinney did the same. But if he left the country, why is the trunk still here? You'd think he would have taken this stuff with him. I did pay attention in my art history classes. One of the reasons why we artists are starving is that our supplies cost so damn much. Brian would sneak into my trunk to take inventory. He'd replace my pads, pencils and paints. It took me some time to realize what he was doing."

"He's a good man, your Brian."

"Yes, I think so. Let's see what else is in here." Claire held the lantern closer as Justin began to lift out old rolls of canvas. Under the canvas were portfolios bound with leather straps. Each portfolio held dozens of sketches.

"Look! If these are all Kinney's these may be worth a small fortune," Justin exclaimed with an ear to ear grin. "If it's ok with you, when I go back to Pittsburgh I'll takes these to show Lindsay. Who knows, you may have enough here for a small exhibition."

Digging more into the trunk, Justin noticed stacks of letters tied with silk ribbon. Holding a stack in his hand, Justin turned a worried look toward Claire.

"Uh, Claire, we may have found your deep dark secret."

"Justin, it's getting very dark outside and these lanterns don't give off sufficient light to read 100 year old letters. Let's leave the letters up here for now. I'd rather look at them tomorrow or if you're planning to stay for a few days, we can look at them when we have more privacy. The sketches can come downstairs with us now. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a good plan. Besides, I think the spider came back and wants us to leave."

"Okay. Let's put this stuff back, except for the sketches and cover the trunk with the cloth. No one will come up here."

Claire and Justin put back the rolls of canvas and laid the letters on top of them before closing the trunk. They then draped the cloth over the trunk and beat a hasty but controlled retreat down the attic stairs. Dusting themselves off and getting a couple of glasses of iced tea to wash the dusty feeling out of their mouths, Claire and Justin brought the sketches to the dining table to look at them under the bright light of Claire's chandelier.

Many of the sketches were pencil renderings of the paintings that hung in Claire's home. There were also many portraits. Several portraits of Kinney's wife and children and even more of Patrick, Kinney's lover.

"This is definitely Kinney's lover."

"How do you know that?"

"The portraits."

"Justin, I'm not following you."

"I do the same thing. I've done it ever since the day I met Brian. A day hasn't gone by that I haven't sketched a picture of Brian or a part of Brian. It started as doodles, no offense, dick doodles, as Brian calls them."

"Must have made some impression on you," Claire said with a blush.

"You could say that. But there were other things." As Justin looked at the pictures lovingly drawn by Kinney, he could feel the passion that Kinney held for Patrick. "See?" Justin held up a penciling of Patrick's eyes. Never far from his own sketch pad, Justin flipped through the pages then slid the book to Claire. Claire gazed at a pair of eyes that so reminded her of her own son's and of Jack. They were of Brian's eyes, of course. But Justin drew them with the same love and passion that Kinney had. "It's like I'm looking into Kinney's heart. He did love his wife and look at the sketches of his children. He didn't stop loving them, he just loved Patrick more or in a different way. Now I understand."

"Understand what, Justin?"

"Brian. For a long time it hurt to know that Brian could love and say he loves Michael but he's never been able to say the words to me. He says them to Debbie, Lindsay and Gus but not to me. It hurt. But I think I understand."

"Justin, he loves you. Even a blind man can see how much he loves you. He just expresses his love without words. Brian plays with words all day long in his business. He knows the power of words, what to say and when not to say them. Maybe to him it's the feeling behind the words rather than the words themselves that are important."

Justin nodded. Brian's mantra was that actions spoke louder than words. He lived by it. Now Justin fully understood. Having an overwhelming need to be with his man, Justin made his excuses to Claire who stayed to examine the rest of the sketches.

As Justin joined the men out on the porch, Brian immediately noticed the wrinkle in Justin's nose. Sensing that something wasn't right, Brian got up and gave Justin a hug.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I think I'm a little tired. Do you think we can camp out in the treehouse tonight?"

"Sure. I already brought the sleeping bags up there and John got us an air mattress so these old bones of mine won't complain so much in the morning."

"Your bones aren't old Brian. Just used to sleeping on a $400 mattress."

"Twat. Let's say our goodnights and get ready for bed."

"'Kay."

Brian and Justin said goodnight and took one of the lanterns to light their way to the treehouse. As they climbed the steps they heard Steve say goodnight as well and caught a glimpse of his own flashlight lighting his path back to the camp. John and Bobby went inside to join Claire.

Up in the treehouse Brian had the air mattress blown up and the sleeping bags were zipped together to form a warm soft cocoon. On the little table was an ice bucket and with a bottle of chilling wine. Two glasses sat next to the bucket. Brian lit a gel canister in the fireplace to complete the ambiance.

"And you said you don't do romance," Justin murmured into Brian's neck as he gave his 'not' romantic partner a hug and a kiss.

"I figured the next time we're up here Gus will be with us, so I thought I might as well take advantage of our time alone. It seemed the practical thing to do."

"Let's drink to your practicality," Justin said to Brian as he poured the wine into the glasses. Clinking their glasses together in a toast they each took a long sip. Brian, taking Justin's glass, set it as well as his own on the table. Slowly Brian removed Justin's clothing carefully putting them on one of the small chairs. He led Justin to the sleeping bags and settled him in. Then Brian topped off their glasses and handed Justin his glass. Justin sipped the cool crisp wine while Brian slowly stripped.

Instantly aroused at the sight of a naked Brian, Justin softly moaned into his wine glass.

"Feeling better, little boy?"

"Much."

"Good. I promise to make you feel real good."

Having no doubts in Brian's abilities, Justin finished his wine and lay down. Letting the warmth of the wine relax him, Justin settled himself and waited for his man.

Brian turned off the lantern; the fireplace offered a soft flickering light. He crawled into the sleeping bag next to Justin. Justin snuggled close.

"What was it?"

"Hmm?"

"What was it that spooked you?"

"Nothing spooked me. Claire and I found Kinney's old art trunk. He had the most amazing sketches in it. They reminded me of the sketches I do of you."

"He did dick doodles?"

"No, silly. But he did do many of Patrick."

"And it reminded you of the thousands you did of me."

"Yeah. Lesbianic, isn't it?"

"No, sweet. Just like you."

Brian carefully rolled on top of Justin, resting his forehead against the blond's. Closing his eyes and inhaling Justin's sweet scent Brian gently rocked their bodies together. Kissing Justin's eyes, his nose and mouth, Brian began an oral assault on his boy. No patch of skin was left untouched by Brian's mouth. Justin was a bundle of sensation, begging Brian to finish him off. Brian did just that. Swooping down on Justin's aching, leaking cock, Brian finished completing his assault. Justin came, screaming his love for Brian. Brian cradled his spent boy in his arms.

"Mmm, that was so good. But Bri, what about you?"

"That was for you. You can pay me back in the morning."

"Thank you. I promise to pay you back real good."

"Sunshine, of that I have no doubt. Now sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow may be a busy day."

"Okay, night, Bri." Justin said, yawning widely.

"Night, little boy." Brian hugged Justin close and kissed the top of the blond's head, wishing away any worries that might be floating in the blond brain. Soon Brian heard the soft snuffles telling him that Justin was asleep. Brian let himself relax then he too fell asleep, Justin still wrapped in Brian's strong embrace.