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Chapter 8 - Snapshots.


Friday, November 22: The traveling sneakers were in a ziploc bag in the freezer. Brian hadn't seen them in a couple days and had thought maybe Justin was giving up on the game. He was surprised to find them when he pulled open the freezer door to get some ice for his usual after work scotch.


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Saturday, November 23:  Brian was in his room with a trick when Justin got home from a night out with Daphne and her new boyfriend, a drummer in a jazz band called 'Younkers'. Nobody knew what the name of the band meant - not even the drummer. Since Brian's bedroom door was wide open, Justin invited himself in and watched while Brian went at the younger, shorter version of Brian himself. Justin thought that maybe he should comment on the psychological significance of Brian screwing himself, but then decided that the men were far too involved to find the thought interesting. Instead, Justin sat and munched noisily on the bag of goldfish crackers he'd grabbed as soon as he got home. When the trick started looking around and not paying attention to Brian's valiant efforts to get him off, Justin threw goldfish at the guy until Brian ordered him to stop.  


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Sunday, November 24: Brian woke Justin up just before 11:00 am and demanded that the younger man vacuum his room. He'd dragged in the brand new, top of the line vacuum he'd purchased the week before and stood there glaring until Justin pried himself out of bed and ran the vacuum cursorily around the room. As soon as Brian nodded that it was sufficient, Justin switched off the big noisemaker and collapsed back into bed.


That afternoon, when he got back from running errands, Justin discovered Brian sacked out on the couch with the TV loudly spouting some inane drivel and Winston perched happily on Brian's stomach. The cat looked up at his person and purred extra loudly but didn't get up. Brian shifted slightly in his sleep and his hand automatically came up to steady the cat. Justin tip-toed the rest of the way inside and eased the door shut so as not to disturb the adorable pair.  


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Tuesday, November 26:  Brian was awakened when something heavy landed on his chest. He startled awake to find the fuzzball sitting there with some kind of large wiggling bug dangling from between his kitty jowls. As soon as he noticed that Brian was awake, Winston dropped his prize onto Brian's bare chest, eager to share his treat with the New Person. Brian screeched like a five year old girl and launched himself and Winston out of the bed, swiping frantically at his chest to make sure that the bug - whatever the fuck it was - wasn't clinging to his body.


Justin, who'd been scared awake by the manic shrieking came running in trying to find out who was being killed. It took him quite a while to calm Brian down enough to figure out exactly what was going on. Brian refused to let Justin leave until the gargantuan bug was found and destroyed - Brian was understandably concerned that it was waiting for him in his bed. After the bed was completely stripped and everything nearby had been thoroughly searched, Brian was finally satisfied that whatever the creature was it was gone now. After they remade the bed together, laughing at how silly they'd both looked running around naked trying to find this killer bug, they discovered Winston sitting out in the hallway happily munching on one leg of the big cricket he'd bravely killed for Brian.   


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Wednesday, November 27:  Justin didn't get home from work until well after ten pm. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving and the next day, Black Friday, was the start of the huge Christmas Sale at the arts & crafts store where Justin worked. He'd stayed late tonight to help get the store stocked and ready for the frantic shoppers that would be hitting the store starting at 8:00 am on Friday. Justin was also scheduled for a ten hour shift on Friday, which he was happy to get because he desperately needed the overtime money.


As he dragged his tired body into the apartment, Justin discovered that Brian was already there and had his latest trick bent over the back of the couch. Justin wearily trudged past the busy pair, grabbed a beer from the kitchen and then returned to the armchair kitty-corner from the couch. The young man sat and sipped at his beer and tried to wait patiently for the big 'Hooray' ending.


When it looked like it might take longer than he'd anticipated, Justin raised his hand to get Brian's attention and then calmly asked, "how much longer do you think you'll be, Brian?"


Brian smirked at the boy and then looked down at the pretty little ass and the long muscular back of the guy he'd brought home with him tonight - this one was another of what Justin had mentally started to refer to as Brian's 'Type A' trick, which meant he was the beefy, gym-bunny kind. Brian shrugged as he continued to ram the willing man even harder into the back of the couch. "Not more than five minutes, I'd guess."


"Okay. Carry on!" Justin replied amicably and then relaxed back into the chair with his beer, switching on the television and flipping through channels while Brian finished up.


After the trick was gone, Brian went and retrieved his own beer as well as a second for the blond. The big man sat on the couch and waved the extra beer enticingly until Justin was tempted into getting up and joining Brian on the couch. As soon as Justin sat down, Brian's arm seemed to naturally curve up around the smaller man's shoulders, pulling the boy's tired body closer to his own. After a couple more minutes, Winston jumped up on the couch and draped himself sideways across both their laps. Eventually Brian found an old movie that he wanted to watch and they all simply sat there resting together, the cat napping and Justin dozing off and on against Brian's strong shoulder, until the movie was over.


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Thanksgiving Morning. Thursday, November 28: Justin momentarily panicked when he woke up and saw that the clock read 11:13. Then, about twenty seconds later, he remembered it was Thanksgiving and he had the whole day off to loll around and eat and study. Well, maybe not too much studying. But, God it felt good to sleep in and not have anywhere he needed to be. It had been way too long since he’d had a day completely to himself.


Justin took his time stretching and rolling around until he was completely awake. Then he crawled slowly out of bed, intending to head for the shower before he called Daphne. As he got to his feet, Justin noticed that he was wearing his briefs and, for some odd reason, his socks. Normally he slept in the buff unless it was cold and then he’d bundle up in sweats. He never kept his socks on though - that was weird. And, even more weird now that he thought back on it, he didn’t remember going to bed last night at all. Trying to clear his head as he shambled off towards the shower, all he could remember was sitting on the couch, drinking a beer and watching some old black and white movie. . . With Brian. . . Well, that explained, he thought, how he made it to bed and maybe even why he was wearing his socks and briefs.


He was still thinking about Brian as he was standing under the showerhead and letting the warm water drip down his body. It had felt kind of nice, just sitting there with the other man. Brian’s arm around him. Resting his head comfortably against that big, warm body while they shared a couple of beers and a movie. It had been a while since Justin had spent an evening like that. Even back when Connor had still been here, they hadn’t spent much time just hanging out together like that. Usually Justin was either working or studying and, on the rare nights when he’d been home in the past few months, Connor had usually been out at acting classes, parties with his acting crowd or who-knew-what. Now that he thought about it a little, Justin realized that he and Connor had never had very many of those nights, in spite of the fact that they’d been going out together for almost a year. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that Connor was gone?


Justin wasn’t sure what he thought about Brian anymore. In the barely two weeks since the man had moved in, even with their different schedules and how busy Justin still was, he’d spent more time with the tall brunet than he’d spent with Connor the entire last month they’d been technically living together. Brian definitely had his faults. The OCD cleaning thing was hugely annoying. He still bristled every single time Brian yelled at him to pick something up. It felt like being back home with his mother always nagging him.


But, the man at least seemed to have a sense of humor about it all. Brian hadn’t said anything about the ongoing travels of his grodie old tennis shoes. Every time Brian found them in some ridiculous place he just tossed them back at Justin with a smile or a joke. He’d never once got outright angry, even when Justin had put the shoes in his bed or on the kitchen counter. So, maybe Justin could live with the neatness thing. Maybe.


Plus, Brian was a sight for sore, sex-starved, lonely eyes. Whoooo! Justin could spend hours just looking at that tall, svelte, well proportioned body. He looked fantastic every morning when he passed Justin on the way to work in one of his many well tailored suits. He looked pretty good even in casual jeans and a pull over. And, well, he looked really, really, really good in nothing at all. . .  Justin had gotten plenty of chances to watch Brian Kinney with absolutely no clothes on at all  - between the tricking and the way Brian liked to prance around the apartment in his altogether all the time. Not that Justin objected in the least to Brian’s penchant for nudity. On Brian it was a look that definitely worked.


Too bad it wasn’t working all that well for Justin. The youth couldn’t really help it if he kept getting hot and bothered by the sight of a naked Brian Kinney constantly strutting around the apartment. It had been twenty whole days now since Justin had last gotten laid and he was feeling the strain. So what if Connor hadn’t been all that emotionally available in the recent past - at least his body had been available whenever Justin had needed it. Justin tried again and again to tell himself that he didn’t need that - what he needed was to concentrate on school and work and his art. Boyfriends were just a distraction that he didn’t have time for right now. Right?


Standing in the warm shower, though, soaping his long-neglected dick, Justin couldn’t help but think of all those tricks that he’d seen Brian with over the past couple weeks. Brian had early on explained that he didn’t ‘DO’ boyfriends or relationships or any of that shit. He said it was easier and much less messy to just find a trick when you needed to get your needs met. Justin agreed with all Brian had said in principle. But, it wasn’t Justin’s style to go out every night, pick up random guys and have tons of anonymous sex. He really wished it WAS his style. God, right now he really, really, really wished it was his style. His dick was trying its best to convince him that was exactly the style he needed to adopt so that it could get what it needed. Unfortunately, Justin was still Justin regardless of what his dick wanted. Justin was a bit of an introvert and, while you could never call him shy, he didn’t have the time, the energy or the desire to ‘make the scene’ the way Brian did.


So, instead of going out with Brian to clubs, Justin was standing there alone in his shower on Thanksgiving morning, jerking himself off to memories of his roommate having fabulous sex. There was truly something very wrong with this picture. And, the closer Justin came to getting off, the more often the image of Brian fucking some random trick seemed to morph into visions of Brian fucking him. Yes, there was definitely something wrong about this . . .  but, as he felt his balls tighten and the first strings of cum shooting out to mix with the shower water streaming down towards his feet, Justin easily forgot exactly what it was that was so wrong.   


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Brian was still only half awake when he heard the shower coming on next door. His sleepy brain conjured up delightful pictures of a dripping wet, warm and welcoming young blond boy who was waving to him to join in the shower. Brian was already deep in the fantasy or dream or whatever it was, his hand automatically finding its way down to his crotch, before he consciously realized that the face on the nubile blond youth was that of one Justin Taylor. Immediately - after he came, of course, and when he was again capable of rational thought - alarm bells started to go off inside Brian’s head.  


‘What the fuck am I doing’, Brian thought as he grabbed a couple tissues and cleaned himself off. ‘I do not need to be jacking off to thoughts of that little twat. He’s way too young for me and I’m way too busy right now to be thinking about some silly twink. Damn Taylor and his Little Miss Sunshine shit and his fucking sneakers everywhere all the time. I do not need that crap. Pull yourself together, Kinney.’


Brian Kinney jumped immediately out of bed, trying to reinforce his resolve to banish Justin from his thoughts with action. Only, halfway out of his room, Brian remembered that it was Thanksgiving and the office was closed and he really had nowhere to go and nothing to do today. So much for action. Now what?


Brian figured that coffee would help - as far as he was concerned, coffee always helped no matter what the problem was. So, he started the coffee maker and hoisted his ass up to sit on the kitchen counter until it was ready. He would figure out what to do with himself for the rest of the day AFTER he’d had a sufficient amount of caffeine.


“Okay, so you freak out when my old shoes are sitting on the counter and yet you apparently have no problem with your naked ass sitting up there?” Justin surprised him by swinging open the kitchen door and calling him out.


“I know where my ASS has been,” Brian shot back with a smirk, “and it’s a lot cleaner than those shoes of yours. I have no idea where you’ve been or what you’ve walked in with those filthy sneakers.”


“I think my sneakers have probably seen a lot fewer miles than your ass, Stud,” Justin insisted, chuckling at the indignant look his comment put on Brian’s face.


“I’ll have you know that my ASS isn’t the part of me that gets around,” Brian corrected him emphatically. “That’s only for the privileged few. My cock, on the other hand, is widely touted in more than five states and at least two foreign countries.”


“Oh. Well, excuse me. I guess it’s okay then as long as its only your ass on the kitchen counter and not your dick,” Justin clarified, pulling the carafe out of the coffee maker and filling a mug for himself before Brian could finish his little soliloquy.


“Stupid little twat,” was the only comeback Brain was prepared with before his morning coffee, which elicited nothing more than an additional chuckle from the blond boy as he headed back out of the kitchen.


“Hey, Daph,” Brian heard Justin’s voice speaking from the next room. “Yeah, I’m awake . . . Fuck, yeah, yesterday was brutal. I didn’t get home till after ten. But then Friday will be ten times worse, so I'm not sure why I'm complaining. . . Okay, whenever you’re ready. I’m here and willing to sous chef at your direction, mon capitaine! I laid in an extra supply of eggnog and a brand new bottle of rum for you. See you soon. Bye.”


Brian waited until Justin’s conversation was finished before he headed out of the kitchen. He intended to just saunter on down the hallway to his own room and then get back in bed until he’d decided what to do with his day, but that was probably just too much to hope for. Justin intercepted him only two steps out of the kitchen.


“So, Brian, I was wondering what your plans are for today,” Justin heard himself offering before he was even consciously aware of what he was going to say. “Daphne and I were going to put together our own little Thanksgiving feast of sorts - it’s not exactly what you’d get at Mom’s but we do our best - and you’re welcome to join us. I think this year’s menu is pre-cooked turkey breast, baked potatoes and store-bought dinner rolls, but Daphne said she WAS going to make a homemade pumpkin pie. And I get to be in charge of the eggnog, which means they’ll be light on the ‘egg’ and heavy on the ‘nog’. What do you say?”


“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to intrude on your plans,” Brian demurred and started to back away from the frighteningly cheerful young blond.


“Fuck that! You wouldn’t be intruding. I mean, you live here too. Where else are you going to go on Thanksgiving in a city you just moved to?”


“But, it’s last minute and all . . . “ Brian tried again to excuse himself. “Won’t Daphne mind me just showing up, uninvited?”


“Of course not. Daph’s the one who invited herself over here to cook. She’s got two roommates and a kitchen the size of a shoebox. I don’t think their oven even works. She’s been planning on coming over here to bake her pie for months. So what if you being here means I’ll only get two pieces of pie instead of three? I think I’ll survive. Plus, I’ve had Daphne’s pumpkin pie and it’s really good. You should definitely stay and try some.”


“Well, if you’re sure?”


Brian seemed uncharacteristically timid and unsure, so Justin naturally became proportionately more aggressive and insistent. “Of course I’m sure. But, you probably should go get dressed before Daph gets here,” Justin said as he guided Brian down the hall to his room. “She can get a bit. . .  grabby. . . when she’s had a couple eggnogs.”


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Thanksgiving Afternoon. Thursday, November 28:  Brian, Justin and Daphne were all sprawled out on top of each other on the couch, sipping at their umteenth eggnog and giggling. They’d eaten their pre-cooked, processed turkey breast and potatoes. Justin had surprised them all by making a pretty decent ‘au jus’ sauce to go with the turkey instead of the usual gravy. Daphne’s pie had turned out to be absolutely perfect and they were all sated from more than enough food and far too much alcohol.


After dinner Brian had produced his stash of pot and they’d toked up enough to get hungry for seconds. While they were eating again, Justin had somehow convinced them that they HAD to watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ on television, but they’d been too busy talking and making fun of the movie to hear much of the dialog even before the last round of eggnog. Now, they were just lolling around and giggling, talking and enjoying their free evening.


"Shit, this is just sooooo much better than all those Thanksgivings I always had to endure as a kid," Daphne announced as she snuggled in tighter between Brian and Justin on the couch. "Both my mom and dad have these huge extended families and everybody still lives in Pittsburgh. My Dad has three siblings and my Mom has five. Plus, everyone in the family, well at least all the women, seem to live till they're a hundred. So, on Easter we always had to have all of Mom's family over for a big Easter brunch. And, on Thanksgiving, we had my Dad's entire family over."


"Those were always the two longest days of the year, but I think Thanksgiving was worse because Dad's family were all total drunks. Grams and Aunt Peach would show up at, like, dawn and start cooking with Mom nonstop for hours. Gramps and all the uncles would watch endless hours of football and get half-drunk before noon. Most of my cousins were either way older than me and refused to acknowledge my existence or were way younger and I was expected to baby sit them. The whole bunch of them would be there pretty much the entire day and then usually my Mom would offer to keep the younger cousins over for the night so my Aunt Virginia, who was a single mom, could get some time off. But then I had to entertain them the rest of the night."


"Oh, poor little Daphy! She had all those cousins to play with. I'm sure it was terrible for you," Justin teased her. "At least you had family to spend time with. My Dad's only brother moved to Arizona or someplace and my Mom's family still all lives in Boston. I had to spend every holiday with my bigot of a father constantly trying to force me to enjoy football. I didn't even have a cousin or two to help distract him."


"Your Dad wasn't a bigot when you were just a kid," Daphne insisted.


"Yes, he was. It just wasn't directed at me until he found out I was gay. But he'd always been the judgmental type," Justin corrected her, sighing at the sad memories.


"How about you, Brian?" Daphne asked in a misguided effort to distract Justin. "What did your family do on Thanksgiving? You got any annoying cousins?"


Brian didn't answer at first. He quickly went through his options to find the least worst alternative: pretend he didn't hear the question and try to change the subject, lie, or . . . tell the truth or at least some bearable portion of it. Brian didn't feel energetic enough to make up a good lie and he didn't think pretending not to hear would work on these two intuitive, bright kids. That left only the truth.


"No. I didn't have any cousins, Daph," Brian's reply seemed hushed and hesitant, which wasn't like him. "Sometimes my mother cooked, but not always. We didn't really have any big tradition or anything." The two sad faces that met his encouraged Brian to try to add a better ending to his story. "But, I usually spent most Thanksgivings over at my friend Mikey's house. His mom, Debbie, loved to cook and there was always way more than we could eat. Plus, Mikey's uncle Vic is gay too and hates watching sports, so there wasn't ever anybody to make us watch football."


"That sounds cool," Daphne replied. And it would have been fine if she'd left it there, but then she just had to ask, "so why didn't you go back there for Thanksgiving?"


"Nothing to go back to anymore," Brian said gruffly with manufactured indifference.


By now, Justin had some experience with Brian's moods and the way the taciturn man would act when something was bothering him. Justin felt it right away when the older man started to get uncomfortable at Daphne's chosen topic. When it looked like Daphne was going to keep asking Brian more questions, an already inebriated Justin did the first thing that came to mind that might deter Daphne's pursuit of the subject - he intentionally spilled the remains of his eggnog on her.


"Shit!" Daphne jumped up off the couch with gooey eggy rum drink dripping down her entire front. "Justin, you klutz! Shit, this stuff is cold."


"I am so sorry, Daph. So sorry. Come with me. I'll get you one of my shirts to change into," Justin said and started to lead the sticky, still-complaining girl off towards his bedroom, winking at Brian as he edged past him.


That impish little wink made Brian bark out one big laugh before he caught himself. Daph shot him a dirty look, thinking of course that Brian was laughing at her drippy condition. Justin rolled his eyes and shook his head but didn't say anything and instead concentrated on hustling Daph away.


The process of getting Daphne washed up and changed into a clean pair of Justin's sweats ended up taking all three of them. Daphne was so sloshed by that point that she could barely manage to sit upright on the toilet while Justin got a wet wash cloth and swabbed at her face and arms. Justin was three sheets to the wind himself, so his cleaning efforts weren't really all that effective. By the time the pair moved into Justin's room to try and find clothing, they were bumbling around and giggling so loudly that Brian was forced to come investigate.


Finally, with Daphne giggling and falling over repeatedly and Justin trying to hold up various parts of her body, Brian managed with difficulty to get a t-shirt on her. He wasn't even going to try for the sweat pants, though. He just scooped the girl up and neatly deposited her into Justin's bed. By this time, Justin had also succumbed to a fit of uncontrollable giggles and Brian had no choice but to pull the boy's clothes off and dump him in the bed next to an already snoring Daphne.


"Hey, Brian, know what?" Justin mumbled through an irrepressible giggle.


"What, Sunshine?" Brian asked as he shut off the lamp on the nightstand.


"You smell nice and you're really warm," Justin said, beaming up at Brian with a huge grin while lying in the bed and looking like some angelic little boy.


"Go to sleep, Sunshine," Brian replied softly and tousled the messy blond hair.


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