Chapter 22 - It's a Bumpy Road Ahead!

When Justin and Brian were finished with their little 'motivational meeting' in the men's room, Brian came back out in an obviously improved mood. Luckily, by that time, Michael and David had finished their own breakfast and already decamped. So, the sated and happy duo reseated themselves at Emmett's table to continue their own meal.

Em introduced them to his companion, Mason - his most recent selection from the 'Fuck-of-the-Month Club'. Mason was also a recent émigré from below the Mason-Dixon Line and was as sunny and congenial as Em. This made the rest of the meal much more enjoyable. Nobody seemed to miss Michael at all. Emmett and Mason seemed as absorbed by each other as Brian and Justin, so it didn't get too awkward when the conversation would occasionally lag during impromptu make out sessions.

The boys didn't have too long to linger over their waffles, however. Justin was due at the High School auditorium by 11:00, so he could wait in endless and seemingly pointless lines until the Graduation ceremony actually began at 1:00 pm. Brian had plans for how he could help Justin pass that time more pleasurably. So, the pair had to eat and run, leaving Mason and Em wrapped around each other over a table full of empty plates.

As expected, Justin was dressed in a pair of casual slacks and a lightweight shirt and ready to go long before Brian had even finished with his hair. He knew better than to dress up in a suit and tie just to stand around for hours swathed in an ugly royal blue sateen gown that was heavy, hot and covered him from neck to knees. The youth busied himself with his sketch pad while he patiently waited for his counterpart to finish getting ready.

Even for the impeccable and vain Brian, it seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time, though. Justin was starting to wonder what could possibly be keeping the man, when he was startled by a vehement "FUCK!" reverberating through the loft from the direction of the bedroom. Thinking Brian was hurt or sick, Justin vaulted to his feet and ran up the stairs.

To find Brian, looking perfectly fine, standing in front of the mirror seemingly about to cry.

"What is it? What's wrong, Brian? Are you hurt?" Justin stammered, trying to turn Brian around to see where he was injured.

My . . . My pants don't fit, Justin! None of them. Fuck, you've only been here a week and already none of my clothes fit! What are you doing to me!" Brian wailed, gesturing at himself in the mirror like the image was so obviously grotesque that anyone would be appalled by the sight of him.

"Um . . . " Justin warily started to respond, concerned that this was one of those times when it was impossible not to say the wrong thing. "You look fine, Brian. Those jeans are a little tight, but you look hot in them."

"Fuck you, Justin!" Brian barked, still staring into the mirror like all was lost.

"Really, Brian, you look great in that," Justin tried again, knowing he was doomed to failure considering how moody Brian had been lately.

"What the fuck would you know? Look! Just . . . Just look!" Brian insisted and pulled up the overhanging hem of the long-sleeved button-up black silk shirt he was wearing.

At first Justin didn't know what it was he was supposed to be looking for. Brian was wearing tight black denim jeans, buttoned low around his hips, just like always. They did seem skin tight, but that was the way Brian liked his jeans. So what was it that had set the man off?

Then, Justin noticed IT. Hanging over the waistband of the jeans was a little paunch of extra flesh. No matter how skin tight his trousers might be, Brian's stomach had always been perfectly flat and toned. Justin doubted the man had ever experienced an ounce of flab anywhere on his perfect body. But, there it was. High up on that stellar abdomen - a little bump!

"Oh, Brian! You're showing! It's so . . ."

"If you DARE say it's 'cute' or 'adorable' or any variation on that theme, whatsoever, Justin, I swear your dick will NEVER make it near my ass ever again!" the distraught father-to-be replied scathingly.

Brian took one last despairing look at himself in the mirror and then dropped his shirt. Once the long shirt tails fell into place, you couldn't tell at all that the insignificant little bump was there. Brian continued to glare at himself, though, as if it was obvious and there was no way he could go out in public like THIS.

Justin did NOT laugh. He really, desperately, wanted to laugh at Brian's complete over-reaction. He really liked his dick, though, and wanted it to not only remain in one piece and fully functional, but he also wanted to ensure he wasn't going to get his dick banned forevermore from the vicinity of Brian's sweet, tight ass. So, Justin did not laugh.

Quickly calculating in his head all possible responses he might make in this particular situation, Justin readily surmised that there was no 'right' answer. He WAS, in fact, the guilty party here and nothing he said was going to make it any better. All he could think to do that wouldn't make things worse was to go up to Brian and take him in his arms.

They stood together like that for several minutes. Justin was behind the taller man with his forehead resting between Brian's shoulder blades, his arms wound lightly around the overwrought man's waist. One of Justin's hands was lying atop one of Brian's, both together gently caressing Brian's swelling abdomen.

Brian's tense body gradually relaxed into Justin's arms. When Justin took a peek over the broad shoulders into the mirror, he saw Brian was still staring at himself, only now, instead of the look of panic, Brian's face was suffused with wistful tenderness. That blissful, elated smile said it all - never, for one second, in spite of the shock, the panic, the uncertainty, had Justin ever doubted how much Brian wanted this child. Even when Brian seemed more afraid of this future than happy about it, there was always an underlying sense of anticipation and wonder. Justin felt the same.

"Come on, Stud! We've got to get moving," Justin said giving the belly one last little squeeze. "I don't want to miss Graduation. If I'm going to be an underemployed, semi-homeless teenage father, I want to at least be able to brag that I DO have my high school diploma!"

Justin swatted the big man on his cute tush and started to move away. Brian spun around and grabbed him before he got far, squeezing him tight and leaving a kiss or two on top of the thick blond locks. "You're NOT homeless, Twat! You live with us. Wherever that might eventually be," Brian whispered and then swatted Justin's behind playfully in return.

#######BBBBB########

Hey, Larry," said the tall dark blond man as he slid onto the next barstool.

"Well, well, well. Dr. Cameron, I presume," replied the pudgy middle aged man who was already seated at the bar. "How's the life of a chiropractor to the stars treating you these days?"

"I've got no complaints, Larry. Although I wouldn't say I was treating stars. Penguins, Pirates, and Ironmen, maybe, but not stars." David replied with clearly false modesty.

"Close enough, my friend, close enough," David's garrulous companion commented.

The unkempt older man signaled the bartender for another beer for his guest. The two old friends sat and sipped at their drinks and reminisced about the good old days. It turned out that Lard Ass used to be the team photographer for the Penguins, and that David had met him the first time he'd been called in to care for a goalie who'd thrown his back out in practice. Since then, Lardy had moved up in the world - or was it down - and become a well known freelance tabloid reporter.

Somehow, even though the two had little in common, they had remained friends all these years. Lardy had been able to refer a lot of business David's way over the years. In return, David had been known to leak a bit of tasty gossip about a few of his more well known patients every now and again. Most of the time the tales he told were just minor embarrassments and didn't really disrupt his patients' lives. Lardy always paid him back by buying beers the next time they got together.

This was the first time Lardy had ever offered to pay him real money for information though. David knew this was much bigger than anything he'd given Lardy before. He rationalized that it wasn't about one of HIS patients, so he wasn't technically doing anything wrong. Plus, if he was correct that Brian Kinney was somehow involved, and he could cause that conceited asshole some grief, it was totally worth all the trouble. Which was why he was here with Lardy tonight.

"So, Cameron, you said you had some ideas for me on the Male Pregnancy case," Lardy interrupted David's reverie. "What are you thinking?"

"One of those names I gave to you - the patients who were at the hospital when the Male Pregnancy was supposed to be there - it sounds familiar. I thought I'd give you a heads up about it and you could maybe check out the info. I don't know if it means anything or not, but it might." David prefaced his comments.

"You let me be the judge of that, my friend. Any lead would be helpful. So which name did you recognize?"

"Chanders. If it's the Chanders I'm thinking of, she's the fag hag of a cute little bottom boy who's been pretty busy around Liberty Avenue lately. And, get this, his favorite top just happens to be the one and only Brian Kinney. I've seen the two together a lot lately. . . I'm not saying your prego is this kid, but who knows right?" David said with a sneer, thinking about how good it would feel to bring the Big Stud down a peg or two.

"That sounds promising, Dave. Very promising," Lardy exclaimed excitedly. "Here, take a look at this. I snapped this picture the last time the prego was supposedly at the hospital. I don't know for sure they're related to my story. They could be three random people who just happened to be there that day, but, if you recognized them . . . "

"Oh, yeah!" David crowed. "I definitely recognize these three. There's your Daphne Chanders, the girl on the end with the curly hair. The blond kid next to her is your likely target, Justin Taylor. And the tall one on the end is Liberty Avenue's most famous Stud, Brian Kinney."

"It looks like you just earned yourself a nice tip, Dr. Cameron," said Lardy, passing a sealed money envelope over to his gloating friend.

#########BBBBB#########

Brian got Justin to Graduation only fifteen minutes late for his first line. Justin checked in and then went to stand at the back of the line to pick up his robe. Daphne, who already had her own stunning dark blue robe on, saw them and came over to keep the boys company and provide moral support.

Justin and his handsome, clingy companion were already garnering a lot of attention. Brian was standing with his arm draped possessively over Justin's shoulders, their bodies touching all along their sides and their faces turned towards each other in an inherently intimate pose. In the ultra-conservative world of St. James' Academy, this much gay PDA was unheard of. However, it was so unbelievably unexpected that no one, not even the teachers assembled to herd students around, knew what to do. The teachers just stood and stared right along with the students.

Daphne's approach was perfectly timed - the girl's cheery 'hello' interrupted a smoldering look that could have easily led to a kiss, which would have simply been too much for the narrow minds of St. James' to handle. Daph stood and chatted with the two men and her presence there alone seemed to calm most of the nervous watchers. It wasn't until the small group was almost at the head of the line before someone managed to rustle up a teacher bigoted enough to dare complain to the student and his friend.

"Excuse me, Mr. Taylor," the approaching authority figure interjected even as Justin was reaching for the gown he was being given. "I'm sorry but all family and friends are supposed to be waiting in the auditorium. They're not allowed back here with the students."

"Sorry, Mr. Dickson. . . " Justin started to respond.

"But, since I'm not family or a mere friend," Brian interrupted with his most charming fake smile, "I guess that means I can stay! You see, Dicky, my boy, I'm Justin's Fuck Buddy. Now, let me see that robe! This can't be the right size? Justin, you'll have to try this on immediately. I'll help you."

And, with that, Brian whisked Justin away towards the back where a series of canvas-sided, portable changing rooms had been set up. Brian grabbed the robe out of Justin's hands and, twirling it around on its hanger rather flamboyantly, managed to somehow hit Mr. Dickson in the eye with the bent metal. Dickson went down, crying out in pain, which drew all the other responsible adults to come running to his aid. And Brian and Justin were temporarily forgotten in the melee.

They weren't forgotten for long though. While the two other teacher chaperones were walking a blinded Mr. Dickson down to the school nurse's office, Brian was helping Justin with his robe. What part of trying on the robe required the older man to drop to his knees and Justin's pants to drop to the carpeting, wasn't immediately clear to all the students watching through the six inch gap below the changing room door. It became pretty clear very soon though.

"Oh, fuck, Brian!" Justin's moans easily came through the flimsy canvas siding of the changing room. Still, the assembled students stood and stared. Then, one pale hand grabbed at the aluminum bar at the top of the structure and the outline of the other hand braced against another canvas wall was easy to make out. The entire canvas and metal structure started to shake. "Fuck, yes! Yes! Yes! Ooooooohhhhhh, YES!"

A few seconds of quiet chuckling and hushed words followed before the dressing room door reopened and a satisfied looking Brian emerged leading a fully robed Justin behind him. Brian looked his usual unconcerned self while Justin's cheeks were burning a bright red. But neither looked in the least bit apologetic. They strolled together, hand in hand, over to where Daphne was still waiting for them with an amused grin on her face.

"I guess I was wrong," Brian admitted with a roguish smile. "The robe fits perfectly. Now, which line do we stand in next?"

After Brian 'helped' Justin try on his robe, he also 'helped' the youth adjust his mortar board hat to just the perfect angle so that Brian could conveniently kiss the luscious coral pink lips without mussing up the blond hair. He also 'helped' Justin fill out some final paperwork by letting Justin sit on his lap while he stroked the boy's thighs underneath the graduation robe. By the time they'd finished that, Justin wasn't sure he could even walk. Thankfully the heavy robe hid the evidence of what all Brian's helping had done to the horny teen.

About fifteen minutes before the ceremony was due to begin, Daphne finally convinced Brian he'd 'helped' enough. She sent him out to join Jennifer, Debbie and the other guests waiting in the auditorium. Justin had just enough time to splash some cold water on his face and will his erection down before they were all lined up again and then marched out to the stage.

The ceremony itself was about as boring as these things always were. Daphne's Valedictory speech was humorous and thankfully short. And then, came what everybody was waiting for: the Grads all marched across the stage as their names were called and received a hand shake and a diploma from the Dean.

The 'Taylor' contingent was easily the most exuberant in the whole auditorium. With proudly clapping Jennifer and Molly, a loudly whooping and whistling Debbie and a piercing catcall from Brian, they drowned out the rest of the cheering families by a huge margin. Justin glowed at the sound of the support from his family and waved his diploma at them theatrically as he returned to his seat.

Somehow, in spite of everything he'd gone through this past crazy year, Justin had made it to Graduation. It was good to have accomplished at least that much. Even if the biggest challenges in his life were still about five months ahead!