“Justin!” Daphne flung herself out of the doorway and into his arms. He barely managed an “umf” as she hit him, and felt himself engulfed in a hug that threatened not to let him go.

“Uh, Daph, want to introduce me?”

She finally stepped back and into the apartment, clutching his arm. “Oh, Justin, this is Rich,” she said, gesturing toward the young man sitting on the couch. He stood, and Justin could see that he was gorgeous. Tall, dark hair. Looked like a swimmer’s build, yup, Daphne loved that. Who didn’t?

“Hi,” Justin said, moving forward to shake Rich’s hand. “Nice to meet you. How do you know Daphne?” It was a natural question, but Justin immediately kicked himself mentally. They were both wearing sweat pants, and wrinkled t-shirts. No shoes. Or socks, for that matter.

Rich let go of his hand after giving it a firm shake. “Well…” he paused as he glanced over at Daphne. “Holy god, girl, are you blushing? Well, I was going to say we’re shagging like rabbits, but since Daph seems embarrassed, I guess I’ll settle for ‘we’re seeing each other.’”

Oh, man, that accent. How did Daphne find this guy?

Daphne made a strangling noise. Justin burst out laughing. Oh, he was going to like Rich.

Rich smiled. “We met at the bookstore. She was grumbling about buying econ books, I was buying Adam Smith for light reading. She decided she needed a tutor, I decided she needed…”

“RICH!!!”

Rich shook his head. “You’d think a girl would appreciate her boyfriends bonding…”

Daphne didn’t know who to hit first. She settled for a glare at Rich and a whack at Justin, who rubbed his arm and complained, “What did I do?” before she plopped down on the couch. “Okay, so sit! Why are you back? And when are you going to tell me despite that shitty reply, I was right in my email? And why aren’t you at Brian’s… I mean, your place?”

“Um…” Justin flopped down on the floor. “Let’s see… Rage was hijacked by delays and a bad plot revision, you were right in your email but excuse me, that was a lucky guess…”

“You need to finish school,” Daphne insisted.

“And as for why I’m not at Brian’s… Michael’s there.”

“Oh…” Daphne’s brow darkened.

Justin turned to Rich. “Michael’s my boyfriend’s…”

“Best friend, yeah, I’ve got the 411 on the whole situation. Believe me, if there was video, she would have run it by me.”

“There is video,” Daphne said dryly. “I just haven’t gotten my hands on a copy. Yet.”

Justin scowled at his friend. “My life is not a soap opera for your voyeuristic fantasies.”

“Of course it is. And the first time Rich pisses me off, you’re going to have a front row to the sitcom of my life.”

“As long as there’s an open snack bar.”

“Hey!” Rich seemed to have an issue with this.

Daphne turned and puckered her lips to blow an air kiss at him. Rich shook his head. Justin watched this, thinking, maybe this one has a chance with the girl. Bout time.

She turned back to the young man sitting on the floor. “So Michael…”

“I swear to god, Daphne, if Brian hadn’t been there, I would have thrown Michael out the window. He came over to yell at me for abandoning the film before he even heard what was going on, before I could defend myself at all. Not that he would care anyway. Seriously, six floors, and I wouldn’t have opened the window first, give him some good glass cuts as an introduction to the drop.”

“Brian would have killed you,” Daphne said.

Rich added, “Throwing the guy to his death isn’t exactly good manners.”

“I meant for breaking the window,” Daphne clarified.

Justin laughed, and it felt good, he knew he had come here for a reason. And then Beethoven went off in his pocket. He took the phone out; the display read, “Justin.” Brian was calling from his phone. Justin answered the call and greeted, “Brian Kinney, God’s gift.” Daphne looked at him funny; he pointed to the cell and mouthed, “his phone,” before turning his attention to the demanding voice on the other end.

“Hi, this is the twat, where the fuck is my boyfriend?”

Justin’s grin got wider. “Do you know your phone is programmed on ‘Ode to Joy’ for my calls?”

“…”

“…”

“I just threw different rings on for different names. Had no idea.”

“So, it’s just a coincidence your phone rings ‘Joy’ when I call.”

“…”

“Kind of convenient that I would never have known.”

“Justin…”

“I’m at Daphne’s.”

“Yeah, I figured. I’m out front, get your ass down here.”

Justin hung up, went to the window and looked down. He sighed, and turned back to the other two. “I’m becoming predictable.”

Daphne closed the distance and hugged him again. “So don’t be a stranger, stop by anytime.”

“Might want to call first,” Rich added, “I hear you’re allergic to hetero sex.”

“Not exactly,” Justin replied. Obviously, Daphne hadn’t told Rich EVERYTHING. He shook his head at her. “Gotta go. Stop by the loft, Daph. I’m just hanging out for a couple weeks.”

“And then…?”

“And then we’ll see.”

“Fine. Tell Brian I said hi,” Daphne finished, and shut the door behind him.



***

He slid into the passenger side of the corvette and exchanged phones with Brian.

“How’d you get to Daphne’s so fast?”

“You have your car service on speed dial.”

“You snooped in my phone?” Brian glanced over his shoulder, and pulled away from the curb.

“Um… I was just walking, and needed distraction…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Justin watched out the window, Pittsburgh going by. Pittsburgh again. He hadn’t really absorbed this yet. He was back.

At least it was summer.

“You shouldn’t have left.”

Justin glanced back. Brian was staring at the road. “I know. But… I don’t know, going to California seemed like it would have done things for me. How was I supposed to know between the delays and the fact that an assistant art director has absolutely nothing to do with art, and then fucking Connor dragging me to that party with the boys in bondage that brought back The Sap’s go-go boy nightmare special…”

“I meant you shouldn’t have left the loft. A half-hour ago. And of course you should have gone to Hollywood, it was something you wanted to do for yourself. How’d you know whether it was the right thing unless you pursued it? What do you mean, the Sap’s go-go boy nightmare?”

“Uh… not important. Your point first. That I shouldn’t have left the loft?”

Brian completely ignored that. Of course. “What go-go boys in bondage?”

Silence.

“Justin.”

Justin sighed. “Friday night, Connor dragged me to this party. Well, not exactly dragged, it was in one of those houses in the hills, really beautiful, overlooking the city. It had a this series of backrooms, relatively tame, until you got to the fourth, which had semi-conscious boys in harnesses.”

Brian made a disgusted sound.

“Yeah, all totally out of it. One was protesting being pulled toward the last hook-up by this really skeezy guy. So I intercepted him, took him out of the party. I ended up taking him to the hospital after he puked all over the back of the limo and starting shaking all over. That’s where I called you from, the hospital. I was pretty freaked out, so I wasn’t exactly… I know I made that New Year’s resolution not to pull the drama princess thing so much…” He tried to make a joke.

“You’re allowed,” Brian responded tersely. “What does the Sap have to do with it?”

“Remember when I accepted tuition from you? After you got in from being in jail with Michael.”

Brian pulled the car into the parking garage. He parked in his space, cut the engine, and turned to face Justin, who was staring at the blank cement wall. “Yeah.” Apparently Justin had heard the story of his boring, painful night. Apparently, he had not heard about Justin’s night. Brian tapped him on the shoulder, and Justin looked over, smiled, but not very brightly. He took Brian’s hand, and held it loosely.

“That after hours party Sap wanted me to go to. Walking into that room the other night was like walking into that party all over again. Only at Sap’s party I was not a guest. More like a drugged out party favor.”

Brian put his hand on Justin’s neck to stroke the skin. “What happened?”

“I kicked someone in something painful, maybe the Sap, I hope it was him, knee, dick, who knows. Then I got the fuck out. Passed out in the alley behind the building and woke up next to a rat. It could have been a lot worse.”

Brian watched Justin for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was embarrassed. For being so stupid. I felt… weak. I didn’t want you to think I was just some kid who couldn’t take care of himself. You know, though, that kid I took out of the party Friday, well, yesterday morning, I took him to breakfast after the hospital. He was a nice kid, just shit luck. I realized, that could just as easily have been me.” He leaned across the space between the seats, put his hand on Brian’s cheek. “You’ve always given me all the options to be anything I choose. When I walked into that flower garden waiting for me in my apartment… well, I realized that just because you’ve always given me enough rope, doesn’t mean I have to keep hanging myself with it.” He leaned forward and kissed his partner, softly at first, then more deeply. Then he pulled back. “Now your turn, what were you saying?”

Brian had no idea what Justin was talking about, and besides he didn’t give a shit anyway, who cared? Blah blah blah… far more interesting were those lips… but Justin was pulling back. “Brian! C’mon, I shared, your turn.”

The gear shift was poking him in the hip, damn it. “Share? Where did you learn that filthy word?”

“That’s it? Nothing else to say?”

“Yeah, unless you want me to fuck you so hard we set off all the car alarms down here, I suggest you get your ass back into the loft.”

Justin exited the car; two doors slammed and they raced toward the garage entrance.

“And this wouldn’t have been an issue…” Brian said to him as they entered the building, “if you hadn’t left the loft in the first place. It’s your home, Justin. If Michael pisses you off, kick him out.”

“But he’s your friend.”

“Yeah, and you’re my partner.” The elevator slid open, and Brian grabbed Justin by the arm and dragged him in, hit the button for the sixth floor, then pulled him up against his chest. “It’s more important to me that you feel comfortable in our home. Especially since I was looking forward to you sucking me off as soon as Mikey got the fuck out.” He slid his hands up under Justin’s shirt, slid them around to the small of his back, and pulled their pelvises together, sliding his hands into the waistband of his pants and squeezing the soft flesh there. Justin reached for his neck, but Brian reared out of his grasp. “No, uh uh, you’re going to have to follow my directions, you’ve been very, very bad, running away like that. Teach you to make me come after you…”

“So I guess me getting to fuck you’s right out of the question?”

Brian just laughed, and spun him around so Justin’s back was to his chest. Brian slid his hands down the front of Justin’s cargoes, then pushed him toward the door as they reached their floor. He murmured into his ear, “Maybe, if you’re very, very good…”

They walked out of the elevator, Brian’s hard-on urging Justin in front of him, Justin craning his neck around to try to get Brian to relent and whining when he couldn’t reach the taller man’s mouth, Brian trying to look severe, but unable to keep from laughing down at Justin’s shameless puppy-eyed look.

Brian’s sister watched them come out of the elevator, in the few seconds before they saw her. She had been sitting on the floor, and stood as they emerged. Brian saw her first and his face froze. Justin frowned, instantly detecting the change in demeanor, and turned his head to see Claire watching them. Brian’s hands slid up to his waist, and he pressed him back with his forearms now wrapped around Justin’s mid-section. “Claire. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I was hoping you would let me talk to you.”

“Well. Seeing as I’m planning to fuck my boyfriend senseless, I would say, how about never?”

“Brian, please.”

Please. From his sister. Fuck, from anyone in his family. He nudged Justin toward the door, allowing him to slip out of his grasp and open the door with his key. Gesturing at his sister, he followed her in.

“What do you want?” he asked, right to the point, crossing to the kitchen and opening the refrigerator door. He grabbed a beer.

Justin reached across his waist to take out a bottle of water. “Would you like something, Claire?” Justin asked.

Oh, fuck, did he have to be polite?

“Actually, do you have another water? Justin, right?”

Justin nodded at her, and then began to move away.

“Don’t,” Brian said to him, and Justin halted on his way toward the bedroom. He looked back, confused. Brian just shook his head at him.

“Can we sit?” Claire asked.

“Must we?” Brian answered.

Oh, hell, Justin thought, what the fuck do I do about this? Well, that was fairly easy. Make it as easy as possible on Brian.

“How about the couch?” Justin suggested. Claire moved in that direction, to sit on the chair at a corner angle. Brian draped himself across the couch, gestured at Justin for join him. He grabbed Justin by the hips, and sat him down on his lap. Justin sighed and leaned back, giving in. Brian’s arms came around his waist, tight.

“What do you want?” Brian demanded of his sister. His hand slipped under Justin’s shirt, stroking his stomach. Fuck, Justin thought, he’s going to fondle me right here in front of Claire… shit, I really wish this didn’t feel so good.

Claire did not bat an eye. “I came to apologize.”

Brian’s eyebrows shot to the top of the forehead. “For what? Believing your brother would rape your son?”

Claire visibly winced. “Yes, to begin with. Brian, I am so sorry I went along with that. I didn’t really believe it, but John made sure Mom was there, he already knew that game, when he told me, and the thing just took on a life of its own. Before I knew it, Mom had called the police…”

Brian started sucking on Justin’s neck, and Claire finally began to look uncomfortable. Justin twisted his head around to shake it, and then slid down to sit on the floor. Brian’s hand moved to his shoulder, and Justin reached up with his own to intertwine their fingers.

“Fine, is that it? I really have better things to do…” Brian’s other hand moved into Justin’s hair.

“No… oh, shit, this is hard. I quit drinking.”

“Oh, fuck, is this like an amends thing?”

“So, you’re familiar with the idea?”

“Yeah, seems to be quite the thing these days.”

“Well. Things were real messed up. But after that whole damn day… it was a pretty bad 24 hours. You don’t know… but it’s hard, Brian, you don’t know. Being single with three kids, I really felt like I had no options…”

Brian just stared at her.

Justin said, “Quitting anything like that is hard.”

“Yeah, it is,” Claire rushed in, with a grateful smile for the opening. “After that disaster, and a couple other things… well, I realized, Mom is getting really bad. I mean, she was always pretty religious, but she’s gone off the deep end. She’s either in drunk or in church, or both. And she’s mean. She’s so mean! I realized I was on my way to doing the same thing, only with me, it was more like drinking and Mom. And look at what was happening to John.” She snorted a laugh, without humor. “I just wanted you to know. Quitting drinking wasn’t enough, I moved away from Mom, and made clear she can’t come around if she’s been drinking. I took the boys out of that Catholic school and put them in public school. John’s so much happier, he’s doing really good at sports, and he has to keep his grades up to stay in.”

“What, football I suppose?” Justin noticed that Brian’s mockery did not have quite the earlier edge to it.

“No, actually, track.” Claire smiled briefly, then her face grew weary again. “Mostly, though, I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to help you out, all those years ago, growing up. I thought I was just protecting myself, but I wasn’t even doing that.”

“It’s over, Claire. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Claire finished, smiling very slightly at Justin. “I was putting this off for a while. But Mom, one night, she called me, really drunk of course, yelling about how she’d done nothing to deserve us as children, and she said that God had cursed you with cancer. Oh, Brian, I didn’t know. But that’s when I realized, that maybe I didn’t have all the time in the world to fix any of this…”

“They caught it. I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Cancer free. Despite what our mother would love to think, I’m not Sodom and Gomorrah redux.”

“Good.” Claire leaned forward. “I’ll let you get back to your afternoon, I’m sorry I interrupted.” She stood. “Thank you for letting me speak to you. You certainly didn’t have to.” She walked toward the door.

“Hey, whatever works for you,” Brian said, his words curiously flat. “Justin, can you make sure the door is locked behind her? And then come back here.”

Justin went to close the loft up. Claire stood waiting for the elevator; she looked over her shoulder at the young man framed in the doorway. She smiled at him, an uncertain smile that looked so out of place on her face. Justin returned it, and Claire’s smile turned more certain. Wow, Justin thought as he slid the door shut, she isn’t that unattractive. Well, with those genes…

He walked back to the couch. Brian’s entire length was sprawled out on the cushions. He had kicked off his shoes and taken off his socks. “Come here,” he said, softly. Justin walked toward him, and as he rounded the end of the couch by Brian’s feet, Brian told him, “Stop.” He halted. “Take off your shirt. Slowly.” Justin crossed his arms and took the hem of his shirt in his fingers, and slowly drew it over his head, letting it drop to the floor. “Run your hands up through your hair, I’m glad you’re letting it grow all the way back, did I tell you?”

Justin felt his own hands as if they were the touch of another’s, and the coil of desire, sparked with Brian’s hands on his stomach in front of his sister, spun outward. “I thought…”

“Don’t speak. Unbutton yourself. Slow”

Justin lowered his hands to the button fly on his cargoes, and undid the buttons, slowly, sliding each out of the slit, feeling the metal slick through the fabric against his finger. His breathing began to pick up. His hands brushed against his cock; he trailed his right hand against its surface under the material of the pants.

“Don’t touch yourself yet. Slide your pants to the floor, and step out of them. You’re not wearing underwear, are you? No. Good.”

Justin stepped out of his pants, and stood, naked, watching Brian watch him. Brian said, “Come here.”

Justin walked the length of the couch. Brian held up a hand, and touched his hip, stopping him. He pulled his hand back, and then extended his index finger alone, running it down Justin’s hip, to his thigh, watching his finger trail down the pale skin. He looked up, his gaze taking in knees, thighs, penis, hips, stomach, chest, arms, shoulders, neck, face… “Straddle me.”

Justin complied, his knees on either side of Brian’s pelvis. Brian reached up and held Justin’s hip bones in his hands, gently, stroking the skin around the small of his back with his long fingers. Justin moved his hands toward Brian’s face, but Brian shook his head. “Don’t touch. Unzip me.”

The eroticism of sitting on his fully clothed lover’s lap while bare and exposed, and unable to touch, had Justin’s cock reaching out even as he was denied. His hands were shaking as he slid the zipper down.

“Expose me.”

Jeans slid down hips until Brian’s dick sprang out, hard, ready. Justin rubbed himself forward.

“Don’t. Get a condom. Put it on me.”

Justin reached under the coach for the box of supplies that was always there, took out a condom. He took it out, started it off on top, then leaned down, and rolled the rest of it down with his mouth.

“Ungh… Sit up. Lube… Now, impale yourself. Slow.”

So slowly. Brian reached over his head, and grasped the armrest of the couch in his hands, forcing himself to stillness as Justin let himself down by centimeters. At last, as far as he could go, Brian trailed his gaze up the body over him, to meet Justin’s eyes with his own. “Slow,” he said, his voice a whisper, and Justin began to move, the slowness of the motion dragging his cock against the cotton of Brian’s shirt, the merest drag against skin where the fabric pulled up against the lowered waistband of his jeans… and still Brian did not move, his eyes watching the face of the man above him, teeth sinking into his lower lip, body still, receiving the sensation of Justin’s slowly rocking hips.

“Brian…” Justin groaned, his hands moving toward the chest under him.

“Put your hands on your thighs. Slower…”

An excruciating drawing out of desire, he did not know how long, just a spinning out of that coil to timeless, heightened sensation, and when Justin was sure he was going to implode, collapse in on himself with the staving off of release, Brian let out something close to a groan, and grabbed Justin’s hips at the top of an undulation, bringing him back down hard even as Brian’s back arched off the couch and his dick slammed upward, once, twice, three times before he froze with his body in a perfect arc that lifted Justin over his hips, and he was coming hard, with a guttural gasp swallowed in the back of his throat. Justin fell across his lover’s chest with his own climax. Quiet hands resting lightly on Justin’s back, and Justin reached out to finally touch, unbuttoning the shirt beneath him, exposing the skin for his cheek to lay down on, against the rise and fall of Brian’s chest.

“We gotta stop letting people in,” Brian finally said. Justin looked up at him, and laughed quietly, dropping his forehead back downward.