Chapter 2 - The New Tenant.

Daphne had forgotten to close the bedroom door the night before. Which meant that Justin woke up to a large grey-brown bundle of fur sitting almost completely on his face the next morning. It also meant that his eyes were almost completely swollen closed and he was sneezing before he was even fully awake.

"Winston! Get down!" Justin ordered between wheezing and sneezing, swatting the cat off the bed before he raced to the bathroom to take an allergy pill and a couple puffs off his asthma inhaler. "Daphne, you know the cat isn't allowed in the bedroom."

*Mmrphhh* the lump under the bedcovers on the other side of the bed muttered.

Winston, meanwhile, had simply moved to the foot of the bed and started licking at his long, thick, grey hair. The cat knew well enough that he wasn't supposed to be in the bedroom. He and Justin had had a long running battle over the issue. Winston didn't seem to be interested in the fact that his owner was actually allergic to cats. He loved his person and thought that he should spend every possible minute of his day draped over Justin's body in some way or other. Justin had been adopted by the big lovable mop of fur just three days after he'd moved to the city. The boy adored the cat in spite of the problems the arrangement caused him. He'd told his doctor flat out that he'd get rid of him before he'd get rid of the cat. The doctor had sighed, prescribed stronger allergy meds and advised Justin to at least keep the cat out of his bedroom.

But, inevitably, any time the door to the bedroom was left even a little ajar, the wily feline found his way in and would plant himself on top of Justin's face.

Justin scooped up the unrepentant beast and threw him out into the hallway, trying to hold back an incipient sneeze until his hands were free. The cat padded off on his silent way looking like he'd meant to walk that direction all along. Justin couldn't hold back the sneeze any longer. He managed to raise his arm just in time to block the full brunt of the nasal explosion and then used the long sleeve of his tee to wipe away the snot that had escaped anyway.

Which was when Justin heard the front door of his apartment opening and the security chain on the back of the door snapping as the door reached the end of the short chain.

"What the fuck?" Someone on the other side of the door complained loudly as he tried a couple of times to force the door open in spite of the sturdy chain.

When whoever was trying to break in couldn't unlodge the chain, the person started pounding on the door and yelling 'Hey! Open Up!'

Justin was feeling a bit muzzy-headed as a result of both the allergy attack and then the strong allergy meds. He didn't really think about what he was doing. He pushed the door all the way closed, unhooked the security chain and then reopened the door to scream at whoever was causing such a ruckus this fucking early in the morning.

"Shut the fuck up! It's too fucking early in the morning to be yelling like that. Now, get the hell away from my door and leave me alone," Justin demanded even as he was still pulling the door open.

The man Justin found standing on the other side of the entranceway was momentarily stunned into silence by the sight of the messy blond man dressed only in tidy-whitie undies, a dirty, rumpled t-shirt and with the worst case of bed head he'd ever imagined. Justin's eyes were still blurry from the allergy attack, but from what he could see the man staring back at him didn't look like a raving maniac. Justin used his fist to scrub away some of the allergy gunk built up in the corner of one eye and then leered more closely at his early morning visitor.

The vision on his doorstep was certainly eye opening. It was a tall, slender, handsome brunet man wearing casual looking yet clearly expensive jeans, a nice cotton-silk button down shirt and a soft-as-butter, brown leather bomber jacket. The man had the most piercing, intense green-gold eyes that were pinned to Justin's own azure-blue eyes. The glints of golden fire that flickered in the depths of the stranger's eyes seemed to somehow ignite echoing sparks of icy crystal blue from the shorter blond man.

The lanky brunet looked over the entire blond package wobbling in front of him and didn't find too much that he didn't like. The young man was shorter than he usually liked them, but slim and compact with wiry muscles half-hidden under what seemed to be deliciously soft alabaster skin. His bright gold hair was too long and quite messy but it looked like it was made of liquid gold. The stranger on the landing  thought it would feel exquisite to card his fingers through that messy mane of hair and then use it to hold on while he did some decidedly naughty things to the rest of that sleek blond body. The boy's briefs gave a great view of the nicely filled basket that the blond toted around. And, if it weren't for the boy's puffy red eyes and slightly drippy nose, he could be pretty hot.

However, the sight of a hot, mostly undressed blond in his new apartment didn't disturb Brian Kinney too much. As long as the blond understood that Brian was too busy today for more than a quickie and then he'd have to be on his way. Brian had a bunch of shit to do and didn't have much time to spend with the housewarming present fate had kindly sent him. Brian started to push his way through the door, a large Louis Vuitton suitcase in one hand and a brushed stainless steel travel mug exuding wafts of the most delicious smelling coffee in the other.

"Grab that other bag and my carry on," Brian ordered the sleepy looking blond as he sidestepped around the young man and strode purposefully into the main living area.

"What do I look like, a bellboy? Get your own bags," Justin spat back at the rude intruder. "And what do you think you're doing here in my apartment with your fucking bags anyway? Who are you?"

"I'm Brian Kinney, and what do you mean, 'your apartment'? I think you must be mistaken, little boy. This is MY apartment. I sublet it yesterday from the owner, Stephan James. See, I have the key here and everything," the auburn-haired stranger explained, dangling a set of keys in front of Justin's face.

"But I live here," Justin insisted, still a bit dazed and blurry and not too quick on the uptake this morning. "I've lived here for the past six months with Connor. What the hell is going on?"

"Sorry, Princess, but this lease agreement says that I live here now," the persistent stranger insisted, pulling a copy of some standard looking legal documents out of the side pocket on the large suitcase. "So, unless you're interested in a quick farewell fuck, you are just going to have to pack up your shit and get your pretty little blond butt out of here. I've got tons of shit to do and I don't have time to mess with you. So, find your clothes and then it's bye-bye, Blondie."

Brian Kinney ignored the fazed looking blond and strode back out to the hallway to retrieve the rest of his matching luggage. He set the carry on down on the coffee table and draped the suit carrier carefully over the back of a chair then turned around to scan his new domain. He wasn't incredibly impressed.

While the main room was a fairly decent size, it was nothing fabulous. The apartment building had been constructed in the 1950's and both the architecture as well as the dimensions were reminiscent of that era. The main room was just large enough to accommodate the small desk set up in the right corner, the small but adequate dining table beyond and the couch and chairs with an entertainment center set up on the left. There was a hallway, presumably leading off to the two bedrooms and the bathroom, on the left side of the room and a doorway to the kitchen on the right. And, except for the small coat closet behind the entrance door, that was all there was. The walls were painted off white, the wall-to-wall carpeting was poor quality and not too clean and the furniture was pretty old and beat up. Brian Kinney wasn't exactly thrilled with the set up.

"Well, it's a fucking dump, but what did I expect renting a 'furnished' apartment in SoHo," Brian declared with a scowl and a turned up nose. "Luckily I won't be here for long - as soon as I get my first big bonus check I'm out of here. I'll get myself a nice loft somewhere uptown and buy some real furniture. But, in the meantime, this will have to do."

"But . . . but . . . what . . . I don't understand," Justin was still standing in his underwear beside the now closed door and sputtering while this stranger walked around and examined his home.

"It's not that difficult, Princess," Brian Kinney, the home invader, explained as he wiped some dust off one of his bags. "This is MY apartment. I have a six month lease. You, whoever you are, don't have a lease, which means you are leaving. I'll give you thirty minutes to get your shit and get out of here before I call the cops who will make you leave. What part of 'leave' do you not understand?"

"What part of 'I already LIVE here don't YOU understand, moron," Justin finally lost his temper and shouted back at the condescending older man. "My name is Justin Taylor, by the way, not 'Princess', and this is my home. I don't care if you have a lease or a royal decree or an edict from god! You can't just come into my home and kick me out! I've lived here for the past six months with my boyfriend, Connor James. We have a lease in his name. We've paid the rent through the end of November. Which means that this is my apartment at least until December first. Now, get the fuck out of my home."

"Hmm, I do remember the owner saying something about his son, Connor, living here, but he said the kid was off to California to become some big star," Brian said nonchalantly as he examined his manicure. "Daddy didn't say a word about you, Princess. Are you sure your boyfriend owned the lease? I get the impression that your boy was living here on his Daddy's dime and that your Connor didn't tell daddy-dearest about the cute little blond freeloader he was harboring."

"But Connor said . . . I thought . . . I don't . . ." Justin stumbled through several thoughts but they all died before he could voice them completely.

"Time's up, Princess. If you've got a lease or anything else that gives you the right to be here, show it to me now," Brian insisted, tired of screwing around with this silly inconvenience already. "If not, then get the fuck out of MY apartment!"

Right as Justin was about to crumble into a tiny heap of dust particles from the harsh treatment he'd received at the hands of the cruel home invader, his cavalry, in the form of one equally underdressed Daphne Chanders, finally arrived. The girl shuffled out of the bathroom at the end of the hall and approached the two arguing men with a big yawn splitting her pixyish face. Her hair had come completely out of its braids overnight and was standing on end in a wild disarray of curly brown that seemed endless. She was only wearing panties and a skimpy tee and didn't look any more awake than Justin had when he'd first answered the door.

"Soooo, the boyfriend's off to Cali and you've already got yourself a new girlfriend? You must be a fast worker, Princess," Brian commented while trying to avoid looking at the half dressed woman.

"Who's he," Daph asked her friend as she plopped down unceremoniously on the couch and used the coffee table as a foot rest. "And, more importantly, why the fuck is he so noisy this early in the morning?"

"He . . . he . . . He says he has a lease. . . " Justin started to explain but then gave up and just dropped down onto the couch next to his friend.

It took about fifteen more minutes of explaining before Daphne had the gist of the situation. While she was listening to Brian's explanation and Justin's occasional interjection, she started a pot of coffee, earning her both Justin and Brian's endless gratitude. Then she sat down at the table with a cup of her own and actually read Brian's sublease. By the time she was through examining the evidence, everyone was much better caffeinated and therefore able to think almost rationally about the dilemma.

"Well, this is how I see it," Daphne leaned back in her chair and started to expound at the two men across from her. "Brian, your lease does appear valid. I'm sorry, Justin, but you say you never actually saw the lease that you thought Connor had. It seems pretty likely that the lease was always in Connor's father's name and that means he has every right to sublet it while Connor's out of town." Daphne's initial comments caused Justin to slump even more dejectedly in his chair while Brian smirked at him triumphantly.

"On the other hand, Brian, Justin does have a point that his rent has been paid through the end of the month. That means, from a legal standpoint at least, that he has at least a periodic tenancy and the right to stay here through the end of November. And, if Mr. James wants Justin out, I'm pretty sure the law requires that he be given at least thirty days written notice. So the earliest you can force Justin out of the apartment would be about the second week of December, assuming Mr. James gave him legal notice of the eviction today."

"Who the fuck made you 'Perry Mason'," Brian groused at Daphne's disappointing recitation of eviction law.

"Oh, my friend Hector has had a bunch of problems with his former roommates. They pretty much have all eventually wanted to evict him. So, Hector knows everything about 'Forcible Entry and Detainer' laws. In fact, he once sued somebody for evicting him improperly and got a big settlement. So, I know a lot about evictions," Daphne explained and gave Brian a big insincere smile.

"So, the bottom line here boys is that you both have a legal right to the apartment, at least for the next month or so. Justin gets at least another thirty days, give or take, before he has to go anywhere. Brian, you probably have the right to break your sublease and get your money back from Mr. James since, technically, the apartment is still Justin's, but then you'd have to find another place to live in the meantime."

"Fuck that," Brian replied angrily. "I'm starting a new job with Kennedy & Collins on Monday. I don't have time to be looking for another apartment. And if I have to move back to the hotel I've been staying at, I'll be broke before the end of the month!"

"Well, then, it seems like the perfect answer is that you two share this apartment - at least for the time being," Daphne announced, clearly pleased with herself for so efficiently solving everyone's problems. "You both need a place to live, you both have a claim to this apartment and it does, conveniently, have two bedrooms. It's a great apartment, in a great location and you're not going to find anything as nice in the same price range anywhere closer than Brooklyn. It looks like you've just found yourselves a roommate."

"I don't want a fucking roommate," Brian complained instantly. "I'm almost thir . . . twenty-nine, and I haven't had a roommate since college. Why would I want Princess here as a roomie?"

"I don't exactly want you, Mr. High and Mighty, as a roomie, either," Justin said with a definite pout. "You definitely seem too high maintenance for me."

"Oh, come on you two," Daphne interrupted before they could start sniping at each other properly. "It's the perfect solution. You both get a place to live and it's not like you'll ever really be spending all that much time in the apartment together anyway. Justin, between school and your two jobs, you're hardly ever here except to sleep, right? I bet that once you start work, Brian - Kennedy & Collins, isn't that a big time advertising agency - I bet you'll be putting in ridiculous hours too. So, how tough could it be sharing a place that neither of you will ever be in except to sleep?"

There appeared to be grumbling on both sides for several minutes, but neither man could come up with a better solution. So, even though they were still eyeing each other with continued suspicion, Justin and Brian eventually agreed that it was the best solution for the time being. Daphne beamed her approval at them when they both finally conceded that she'd been right all along.

"But only for one month, you hear," Brian insisted just when everyone thought it had all been resolved. "You have to be out of here by December 12."

Justin was about to capitulate on that point, but Daphne broke in once again. "Brian, that's not very nice. You can't just throw Justin out right before Christmas. Be reasonable. There's no way Justin will be able to find a decent place until after the new year. You know what housing is like here in the City. Besides, Justin has finals the first two weeks of December and he needs to study - he can't be out trudging around looking for apartments. I think you should agree on a date sometime in January. Say, January 15th? That gives everyone a chance to get through the holidays, Justin won't be stressed about moving during his finals, and everyone will be warm and happy through the start of the new year!"

Daph was so enthusiastic about the perfect solution she had come up with that neither of the men felt up to contradicting her. She smiled broadly at them as Brian and Justin shook hands on the agreement to share the apartment until January 15th. It didn't sound that bad. Really, it was only two months. How tough could it be?

"Great!" Daphne voiced her approval that the boys had agreed to play together nicely and then jumped to her feet. "Shit! I've got to get going. I've got class in an hour and I still have to drop my stuff off at my place. Talk to you later, Justin. Nice meeting you Brian. I think you'll love living here! Bye, guys!"

The whirlwind that was Daphne blew out of the apartment without waiting for either man to voice a goodbye. Both Brian and Justin were still sitting at the table, gripping their now-cold mugs of coffee, and unsure what was supposed to happen next. Justin smiled uncertainly up at his new flatmate from under his long golden lashes and had to acknowledge that at least his new roomie was fun to look at, if nothing else. Brian was thinking along the same lines, but probably not as willing to let the sentiment show on his face. So they just sat there for a few moments longer, saying nothing and pretending like they weren't really checking each other out.

"Meeerrooooowww." Winston chose that moment to announce his presence as he jumped up in one graceful bound from the floor onto the tabletop and sat himself down regally, directly in front of Brian.

"No fucking way! You never said anything about a cat!" Brian jumped back out of his chair, knocking it over in his haste to flee from the deadly beast that was eyeing him so malevolently.

Winston picked up one delicate paw, flexed the claws a teensy bit just for show, and then started in daintily licking at the pads of his foot. Brian's eyes got incredibly wide at the sight of the claws. He continued to back away until his back was plastered against the shelves next to the desk. The cat continued his morning ablutions, sending the occasional green-eyed glare at the man cowering against the far wall. Justin looked back and forth between the two and then burst out laughing.

"Brian Kinney, meet Winston the Cat. Unfortunately he comes as a package deal with me. I'm sure you'll become great friends in no time," Justin chuckled as he scooped up the big furry pussy cat before the kitty could scare his new roomie off permanently.