Chapter 38 - Dealing With The Doldrums. (Monday, June 27th)

*Ring, ring . . . Ring, ring . . . Ring, ring*

"Em? What the fuck are you doing here at three am? Are you okay? Is somebody hurt? Or . . . dead?" A bleary-eyed Ted fumbled with the latch as he opened the door to find his best friend crying on his door step.

"Oh, Teddy! Tell me it isn't true! Not him. He can't be gone. Not HIM!" Emmett was so distraught that Ted thought someone really might be dead.

Ted quickly ushered his sniffling friend into the condo and then wrapped his arms around the tall, gangly drama queen.

"Tell me it isn't true, Teddy! It can't BE!" Emmett was still wailing.

"Shhhh. Calm down, Em. I don't know what you're so upset about and I can barely understand you. Just come over here, sit down on the couch and tell me what happened, okay?" Ted led his hysterical friend to the seating area.

"Okay. Okay. *oooohhhhhhh* Okay," Em grabbed at the tissue Ted held out for him, dabbed at his wet eyes and then slowly pulled himself together enough to begin his tale. "So, I just got home from the club, right - where I met the most dreamy Stud named Nicholas who had all these piercings in the most unusual places, and . . . - well, I'll tell you about that later, I guess. Anyway, I just got home and I went to log on to the site to check up on my boys like I do every night before I go to bed. I like to just peek in briefly and make sure everyone's okay and check the highlight videos from earlier in the day in case I've missed something, you know. But when I got online tonight I saw that my favorite wasn't where he was supposed to be. Which didn't make ANY sense because those two have been getting so close and they're always tucked up in bed together by the time I get in - they're so adorable together. So I went through the site and checked all the views but he wasn't anywhere to be found. Then I went to the highlight videos and I saw you there, at the Residence, and . . . and . . . and . . . He's GONE, isn't he?"

"Oh, Em, honey . . . I'm sorry, but yeah . . . He's gone."

"Nooooooooooo! It's not fair. Why him? Why? I LOVED him!" Em had broken out into a fresh spate of tears and Ted had to resort to another handful of tissues before they could go on. “He didn’t break any of your rules did he? Oh, oh! If he DID, please tell me it’s because he took out that shithead, Daniel, for daring to mess with his boy. I could at least live with that.”

“No, no! It was nothing like that,” Ted was patting Emmett’s arm soothingly and it seemed to be working to calm the man just a little bit. “And what do you mean, ‘mess with his boy’? I know Daniel’s been a total jerk to everyone from Day One, but did he do something new I don’t know about?”

“Weren’t you paying attention yesterday, Teddy? This IS your show, you know. You need to keep a closer eye on things,” Em chastised. “But anyway, yesterday, at the end of the Sunday in the Sun challenge, Daniel actually tied Kerek up with that rope thingy they use in the pool and he was going to . . . oh, it was just too scarey. I don’t want to even say the words. But let’s just say that if your servants and Paal hadn’t stopped him I think he would have done something unspeakable. I just figured that Dane might have decided to go all Chuck Norris on Daniel’s ass, cause you know him and Kerek have become quite the item already.”

“Hmmm. I wasn’t at the Residence yesterday so I didn’t see the Daniel incident. I was off doing another interview - this one is for a nationally syndicated talk show, can you believe it? I did get a message from Sam, although I haven’t had a chance to deal with it yet. I suppose it’s about this deal with Daniel. That boy certainly has been a pain in my ass,” Ted looked worried, obviously mulling over what his options were with regard to his most troublesome contestant. “But, no, it wasn’t that. I got a call at the office last night just before I was about to leave. I’m afraid that Dane’s grandmother had a stroke. From what I understand, it’s not good. It sounded like she might not make it. And the grandmother was taking care of Dane’s little brother while he was in the show, so Dane’s going to have to drop out and go home to take care of the kid.”

“Oh! That totally sucks for him! Poor Dane. And I was totally rooting for him, too. He really needed the money. Damn, Teddy. This game of your’s is killing me!” Emmett was moving back towards distraught again, but then his usual indomitable spirit kicked in and he rallied. “Shit! I’m going to miss seeing that huge schlong of his every day . . . Oh well! At least there’s always the digital copies I’ve downloaded of some of the better challenges. That way my Dane fantasies can live on forever on my computer screen. Don’t you just LOVE modern technology!”

“Here, here!” Ted would be the last one to dismiss the wonders of the computer age, especially since it was making him rich. “And who knows. Maybe I’ll talk Dane into doing an appearance or two for Jerk@work with Adrien.”

“Oooooo! You could also do a ‘Best Of’ video with highlights of all the best challenges!” Emmett was already enthusiastically running with this new idea. “Maybe a set of videos - one for each of the House Boys with their personal best moments. Or a ‘couples’ edition, featuring the best of one specific pair. That would be so romantic.”

“Not a bad idea, Em. But, can we please put all these on the back burner . . . at least until morning?” Ted responded, looking pointedly at the clock on his mantle which had just ticked past three-thirty.

“Oops. Sorry, Teddy. Drama Queen moment over - I promise,” Em bounced up off the couch and blew a kiss over his shoulder at the weary Internet mogul. “Nite, Teddy!”

“Nite nite, Em!”

“If even one more person comes up and asks me if I’m alright, I swear I’m going to go Postal on all your asses,” Kerek warned as Brian walked up to the the kitchen table where Kerek was trying to eat his breakfast.

Brian set down the large mug of coffee he’d been carrying and raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, wouldn’t dream of it. Not my style really. I’m just here to drink my coffee.”

Brian slid into the seat next to Kerek. The way they were both scowling into their coffees, you’d think the creamer had been switched out with rat poison. The rest of the House Boys were huddled at the far end of the kitchen table or seated on one of the stools at the island, trying to stay as far away from the morose pair as possible for fear of having their heads bitten off. On top of the pall spread by the two angry coffee scowlers, the mood was further dampened by the absence of their favorite Big Blond Giant. Needless to say, breakfast was rather quiet that morning.

Finally, Daniel got fed up with the lot of them and stood up from his place at the kitchen island, pushing his half-eaten plate of eggs away. “You’re all a bunch of namby-pamby wusses! What the fuck are you all so sad about? You guys act like your puppy just got run over by a truck or something. I say it’s a good thing Dane’s gone. That’s one less person competing for the prize in this stupid game show. Am I right?”

“Shut the fuck up, Daniel!” Malik was the first to speak up. “Dane’s our friend and not only are we going to miss him around here, but we’re all worried about him and how his Oma’s doing. It’s called compassion. I know you probably can’t feel that kind of human emotion, but you might at least shut the hell up and try to pretend you’re not a total douchebag.”

“Yeah, well, the only thing about the big dolt I’m going to miss is his always accommodating asshole. Although, he was a bit loose for my taste,” Daniel’s comment earned him a growl from several sources around the room but otherwise nobody was stupid enough to take the bait. “But now that he’s gone, and the field is narrowed a bit more, I’m thinking we’re all much more likely to get a taste of something a lot more snug. Isn’t that right, Cupcake?”

“Wow! Those drugs you’re doing must be seriously warping your mind, Daniel. ‘Cause, if you think you’re getting anywhere NEAR my tight, hot ass, you’re completely delusional,” Justin zinged back at him.

Daniel had eyed Justin with some concern when the word ‘drugs’ was first spoken, but by the end of the boy’s comment he seemed reassured that the reference was merely made in passing. “We’ll see, won’t we, Cupcake. We’ll see,” Daniel replied with a smirk that seemed to say he knew something the rest of them didn’t.

“No we WON’T see,” Kerek jumped out of his chair and was up in Daniel’s grill before anyone could intervene. “You’re going to keep your pitiful prick to yourself, Daniel. If you or your nasty little dick come near ANYONE without an engraved invitation and written prior authorization from the President, you won’t HAVE a dick to worry about come morning.”

“Oooo! Big words coming from a pansy-assed little bottom boy like you, Boy! Especially now that your muscle-bound boyfriend isn’t around anymore to protect you,” Daniel jeered back, visibly puffing up his chest like a territorial gorilla.

“You do NOT want to mess with me today, Pussybreath!” Kerek straightened up his own spine, topping Daniel’s height by a good few inches and clearly not in a mood to back down. "I've taken out johns that were a fuckload more intimidating than you. You're nothing but a pathetic playground bully. So, do not fuck with me, Daniel, unless you really do have a death wish. I've long passed the point where I care what happens so long as I take you down with me."

Instead of raising his voice in anger, Kerek's voice had dropped in volume as he spoke. Which only served to amplify the venom in his words. There was no question at all that he was dead serious about what he was threatening - this wasn't mere posturing or empty bravura. This was the real thing and even Daniel knew it.

"Don't confuse ME with one of your johns, Groid," Daniel's manner had lost much of its confidence, but the boys could see he didn't want to just back away without at least some show of machismo. "I'd never be desperate enough to pay for that saggy ass. In fact, if it weren't for this stupid game, YOU couldn't pay ME to tap it."

"Fine with me, Dickwad. Now, how 'bout you just slink off like the pond scum you are and leave the rest of these nice people to finish their breakfast in peace?" The sickly sweetness of this question wasn't any more reassuring than his bare threats had been a minute earlier.

Daniel seemed to teeter on the brink of indecision for several seconds, but in the end it was clear that he wasn't going to win this war of words. Instead, he wisely opted for a strategic withdrawal. "Whatever. Didn't plan to spend my day hanging out with you sorry losers anyway," he muttered and then turned and padded out of the kitchen with Kerek still staring him down every step of the way.

“Fucker!” Kerek growled as soon as Daniel’s back had disappeared through the kitchen door. “What the little pissant doesn’t seem to get is that Dane was the one holding ME back from beating the crap out of him. But now that Dane’s not here, there’s nothing holding me back anymore. Daniel better watch his fucking ass from now on or his days are numbered.”

Nobody really had anything to add after that ominous proclamation. The other House Boys turned back to their breakfasts or coffees, mostly avoiding eye contact. Kerek seemed to subside into a low simmering anger that was still visible under the surface but no longer boiling over anymore. After another fifteen minutes or so of silent breakfasting, Kerek refilled his coffee and left via the patio door. As soon as he was gone the whole room seemed to sigh a collective breath of relief and normal conversation slowly resumed.

“Hey, Brian,” Justin planted himself in the chair vacated by Kerek and turned towards the man who was still deeply committed to the contemplation of his now-cold coffee, “I’ve got another appointment with the waxing guy this morning. Any chance we could make use of your Tenga again to, you know, make the experience more enjoyable?”

“It’s in the drawer in the bedroom where it always is. Knock yourself out, Sunshine,” Brian replied without even bothering to look up at the twink trying to tempt him.

“Don’t you want to come administer it . . . personally?” the flirtatious fellow offered with a suggestive grin.”

“I know you’re young, Sunshine, but I figured you were old enough to jerk off by yourself without a babysitter being present,” Brian gnarled, still without even looking up from his coffee.

Everyone around the table turned at the same time and stared at Brian. Yeah, he could be gruff and short with people sometimes, and he’d always had a cutting sense of humor, but they’d never heard him go off on Justin like that. The words were bad enough, but the vehemence in his tone was even more startling.

“Fuck you, Brian!” Justin growled back as soon as he’d recovered from his own shock. “If anyone here needs to grow up, it’s you. You’re a bit long in the tooth to throw a temper tantrum like this, don’t you think?”

Justin scraped his chair back from the table and stood up so fast that the chair fell over backwards. With a scathing look down his nose at the beetle-browed, hunched-over brunet brooding into his morning cup of caffeine, the imperious young blond turned and tramped out of the kitchen. Nobody else in the room said a word while they watched him walk out with his head held high and his expression stormy. Brian kept his head down but you could see he wasn’t pleased that Justin’s retort had hit so squarely.

“Shit! You guys are fighting AGAIN?” Malik questioned the steamed stud. “Damn. Guess I better go see if I can bunk with Kerek tonight.”

After starting off on such a sour note, the rest of the day continued along in the same vein. Everybody seemed to be in an equally foul mood. Luckily, since it was Monday, they weren’t required to interact much. Kerek, who had won Saturday evening’s competition and been rewarded with a new vibrating dildo that he was supposed to be using to keep the pornographic tone of the day on a high note, disappeared into his bedroom for the rest of the day and neither he nor his dildo were seen again. A few of the boys availed themselves of the services of the spa treatments being offered. The more athletic members of the household spent time out on the patio using the weights and exercise equipment. Everyone else seemed to just loll around doing not much of anything. It didn’t look like it was going to be a very good day for Ted’s online viewers.

Just after noon, several servants began lugging large boxes of supplies up into the Greatroom, which provided a momentary distraction. It wasn’t until they started unpacking several large easels and canvases though, that at least Justin finally started to feel more cheerful. He eagerly towed Malik over to the area where the equipment was being set up and was practically bouncing with excitement when he saw the pile of stuff that he’d requested being set aside.

“Milk Paint? What the fuck is Milk Paint?” Malik asked as he picked up one of several cartons containing powdered paint pigments.

“It’s great stuff,” Justin assured him, rifling through the piled up cartons to make sure all the colors he’d requested were there. “It’s made with actual milk protein instead of oil as the binding agent for the pigments. That means it’s totally natural and nontoxic. You could actually eat this stuff and it wouldn’t do you any harm. And since we’re supposed to be doing art using our bodies, it’s really the least dangerous paint to use.” Malik thought Justin had never sounded more excited about anything - not even sex - than he did while he was going through the heaps of art supplies. “I have the perfect painting all planned out in my mind. It’s going to be so cool! Andy Warhol better watch out. When MY cum painting goes on the market, his is going to look like child’s play.”

“Cum painting? That’s not a real thing. Is it?” Malik sounded incredulous.

“Oh yeah, it is! Back in the seventies, Warhol jacked off on a canvas and then fucking sold it as art. He didn’t even use any paints. Just a few months ago it came up for auction and it went for $40,000.” Justin explained as he started to remove all the paints from their paperboard cartons. “It’s really not art, if you ask me. Just sensationalism. But I do like the idea. Of course, I can definitely improve on the original using these.” He’d already set up his canvas on the easel and was arranging the jars of pigments on a nearby table. “There’s this one artist named von Ostrowski, who does tons of semen art. He even did a self portrait all in semen. They say he has to jack off over 40 times for each painting he does - although he uses a paintbrush to apply the semen to the canvas. I’m going to do it ‘au naturel’ and use these pigments as well. It’s going to be a fucking masterpiece by the time I’m through. But, if I’m going to get it done in only a week, on top of my other duties here, I guess I better get started, right?” Justin grinned at his friend with an almost maniacal gleam in his eye.

Malik was still standing there looking dumbfounded by this flood of unbelievable information when Justin picked up a regular drinking straw, placed it between his lips and then sucked up a quantity of light blue pigment. With a series of carefully aimed puffs of air, Justin blew a swath of the color in a sweeping arc across the canvas. Then, without any delay at all, he grabbed his dick and started stroking it rapidly until, only a few short minutes later, he managed to shoot out several nice thick ribbons of cum that providentially landed in splatters all through the area of blue pigment.

“Hah! See! This is going to look so incredible by the time I’m done!” Justin practically crowed with delight over his initial attempt and immediately dove back into the jar of paint with his straw.

Malik backed slowly away from the crazy artist holding the paint blow gun and his still dripping dick at the ready.

More than three hours later, when Malik came back into the Greatroom, Justin was still at it behind his easel. By this time, he was covered pretty much head to toe in layers of blue and green paint, along with a healthy amount of his own jizz. Malik watched with a combination of horror and amusement as the crazy kid jerked himself off one more time and then immediately used his still pulsing dick to swirl around the colors on the canvas. Apparently not yet completely satisfied with the effect, he turned around and rubbed his ass across the lower left hand corner of the picture a couple of times and then took a step back and smiled glowingly. It was no fucking wonder he was covered in semen and paint if that was his technique.

“Hey, Picasso! You’ve got thirty minutes to get cleaned up before the evening Challenge,” Malik announced as he neared the corner where Justin had set up his studio. Justin jumped, seemingly surprised by the presence of another human, and rushed to drape a piece of fabric over his canvas. When he smiled guiltily up at his friend, Malik broke out laughing since Justin’s entire mouth and all his teeth were stained an excruciatingly vivid combination of blue and green. “You DEFINITELY will be wanting a shower before then, Cupcake!”

Justin looked down at his stomach and grimaced. Malik was right. He was a total fucking mess. But he had really, REALLY, enjoyed himself this afternoon, so it was probably worth the mess. And the sore dick from jacking off about ten times in a matter of just a few hours. He just hoped whatever the evening’s Challenge was it wouldn’t involve further abuse of his cock.

Trotting up the stairs, trying not to touch the walls or anything else, Justin quickly made his way to the big master bathroom on the side of the house next to his bedroom. He heard the water running before he even got into the room, but didn’t really think anything about it since the showers were communal and you were likely to meet up with just about anyone in any shower no matter what time of day or night you entered. He took a moment to survey himself in the big mirror behind the sink as he passed by and giggled at the sight. He looked like a Smurf - covered almost completely in blue-green pigments with only his blond mop of hair showing, mostly untainted, at the top. Of course, he didn’t think that any of the Smurfs had ever smelled quite so pungently of cum.

He was still giggling when he made his way into the large multi-headed shower stall. As soon as he rounded the corner he saw that the current occupant of the shower was one Brian Kinney, who was slouched down against the tile wall, huddled in a small ball on the floor of the shower with his chin resting on his drawn up knees while the water pelted down relentlessly on his head. Brian looked so beaten down. Not only by the water but by the weight of whatever had been hounding him since the night before. The sight tore at Justin’s tender heart and he immediately forgave his lover for the outburst at breakfast. Whatever was wrong with Brian, it was something serious, and Justin knew he would do anything to help this enigmatic man.

The click of the shower door as Justin pulled it open finally roused Brian. He looked up, started to look away again and then turned back to stare at this multi-hued replica of his twink. Brian hadn’t thought that anything could have cheered him up considering his current mood, but this unexpected sight - his very own Little Boy Blue - actually coaxed a hint of a smile out of him.

“What the fuck have you been doing, Sunshine,” Brian couldn’t help but ask. “You look like you’ve been rolling in paint all afternoon.”

“Actually, I have. Well, paint AND cum. It’s quite the potent combination. Wanna come smell me before I step under the water? I’m trying to figure out if the correct adjective to describe it would be ‘piquant’ or ‘pungent’. Or maybe tangy? The paint I was using adds a nice savory undertone to the cum, don’t you think?”

“Has anyone told you that you’re a complete freak?” Brian asked, shaking his head in wonder at the audacity of this kid.

“No . . . At least not today,” Justin giggled again and moved over so he could slide down the tile wall next to Brian.

Brian bent his head to the side and took a long sniff before the water had made much of an inroad into the boy’s coating. “I’m not much of a cum sommelier, Sunshine. But, if I had to describe your particular aroma right now, I’d say it has a sweet, sticky body with underlying hints of natural muskiness . . . but, um, why do you smell like milk?”

Justin’s only answer was to burst out into uninhibited laughter and splash Brian with a handful of blue-tinged water. Brian smiled back at him for a brief moment before he remembered he was supposed to still be upset. His smile dripped off his face along with the water droplets, leaving him staring once again at the floor tiles with a glum expression.

“Brian,” Justin started to ask - again - what was bothering the crabby and dejected man, but hesitated, knowing he’d only be brushed off once more. But, after sitting there silently for another couple minutes with Brian still just staring at the tiles, Justin changed his mind and decided to press the issue. “Okay, Brian. Here’s the deal. We COULD play this ridiculous game where I ask you what’s wrong a million times and you do the whole Sulking Stud thing and either blow me off or, worse, attack me for daring to care. But we both know I’m too fucking tenacious to give up no matter how many times you try that shit. Eventually I’ll just wear you down and you’ll tell me anyway, but not till after you’ve said some nasty shit that really pisses me off and which you’ll totally regret after the fact. So, let’s just pretend we’ve already done that whole song and dance and you just tell me what the fuck’s the matter without all the hassle. Okay?” Brian hadn’t changed his position or looked up but there was something in his posture that told Justin that he might have finally gotten through to the moody grump. “Exactly who is the ‘Judgmental Bitch’ and how is it that he or she thinks they can take your son away from you,” Justin asked pointedly.

“His mother. Or rather, mothers - plural,” Brian answered after only a very brief pause. “They think the exposure from my appearing as part of the Summer of Sin is going to traumatize him and they’re threatening to do something so I won’t have access to him unless I drop out of the competition,” Brian confessed, his head slumping melodramatically back down onto his knees once more.  “Oh, and my boss also found out about it and wants to fire me.”

“Fuck! That totally sucks. But they can’t do that can they - the mothers, I mean. Or your boss either. Can they?” Justin asked apprehensively. “I mean, you’re his father, right. They can’t just say you can’t see him.”

“They can if I signed away my parental rights already,” Brian sighed.

“Fuck!” Justin restated his opinion.

“Yeah.” Brian replied.

It took a little bit more prodding on Justin’s part while they went through the motions of showering, but eventually he got Brian to relate the entire story of his son, Gus, how the child was conceived and what had happened since his birth about ten months earlier. Brian told him how he’d agreed to sign away his parental rights as an additional incentive to try to keep the boy’s lesbian mothers together - mostly because Brian was convinced that his son needed a stable, two-parent family. He said repeatedly that he would do anything in his power to make sure his child had the best life possible, including giving up his rights as a father, if that’s what it took to make sure Gus would be happy. He even alluded to the fact that this had something to do with his own, unhappy, childhood.

The unfortunate repercussions of that decision were that Lindsey and Mel now had the ultimate means of control over him. All they had to do to keep Brian in line was threaten him with loss of visitation with his son and they automatically had him over a barrell. From the sounds of it, Justin thought they were extremely good at that particular form of emotional blackmail. And Brian seemed more susceptible to it than most.

While nothing was resolved by the time their shower ended, Brian had to admit that he felt just a little bit better after having shared his troubles with the supportive younger man. He still didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do about Lindsey’s demands, but promised Justin not to make any decisions right away. Justin convinced him that they had plenty of time to think about it a little more and that he shouldn’t just react without a well thought out plan. If nothing else, it felt really good to have at least voiced all his worries rather than just letting them circle around and around inside his brain on an endlessly circular track of dread.

And, for some strange reason, Brian felt like the eighteen-year-old neophyte was the perfect person to have in his corner in this - or almost any other - crisis.

When the lights in the bathroom began to flicker telling them it was time to assemble downstairs for the night’s challenge, Brian was almost ready to face the world again. Or at least the rest of the House Boys and the thousand or so online viewers. And, as he walked out to deal with the next challenges The Master - not to mention the Real World - were about to send his way, he didn’t mind that there was a feisty golden-haired gladiator masquerading as your typical twink by his side.