Chapter 42 - A Rare Sighting.

Sunday morning the boys got to sleep in late. Brian obviously needed the rest. When Justin finally started to stir around 9:30 am, Brian was still zonked out. The long legged brunet had wedged himself in between Justin, at his back, and a line of pillows in front of him, providing belly support. Justin couldn't move since he was being used as a back support. But, Justin didn't mind in the least and simply reached his arm around to caress the protruding belly.

Justin lay there dozing, his hand resting on Brian's surprisingly hard belly. He was amazed at how firm and hard Brian's stomach felt. It wasn't soft or fat at all. The skin was taut and firm, stretched over the bulge underneath but still feeling soft and silky smooth. He could easily have laid there for hours doing nothing but rubbing and caressing 'The Belly' and dreaming about the future. Unfortunately, Justin's pleasant doze was interrupted by a rather vigorous kick coming from the occupant inside Brian's middle. As he looked down at the skin under his hand, he could actually see the imprint of the foot doing the kicking. It made Justin laugh out loud. The noise, along with the antics of his little parasite, finally woke Brian.

"Are you and Junior tired of me sleeping? You want me up?" Brian asked as he stretched, his one hand automatically going to rub the spot where the baby had been kicking so hard.

"It was so cool, Brian. I could actually see his tiny foot," Justin raved about the excitement.

"It might be 'cool' for you to watch, but it just hurts like a bitch for me," Brian chuckled as he shifted his weight around till his passenger was more comfortable. "At least we know Junior is going to probably be a good soccer player, what with all that kicking, head-butting, and generally high activity levels early in the morning. It doesn't help me sleep much, though."

"Brian, we're not calling him 'Junior' after he's born, are we? We've got to figure out a real name," Justin insisted, shifting into a more upright position next to Brian in the bed.

"Actually I… I have a name already, sort of. . . " Brian offered in a quiet, hesitant voice. "I picked it out when I was like 10… I know, 'how stupid', but, I was being punished for something and I was locked in my room for hours one afternoon. I spent the time thinking up a list of all the things that I wouldn't do if I ever got to be a parent. I even went so far as to pick out my imagined kids' names. . . . I mean, if you really hate the name we don't have to use it, but if-if-if you don't absolutely hate it . . . "

"I'm sure I'll love it Brian," Justin commented, trying to ease his partner's evident embarrassment. "You don't have to tell me now, if you don't want. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be stuck with 'Junior' forever. As long as it's not 'Abraham', right? You wouldn't do THAT to the poor kid."

"God no! I don't want my kid to be beaten up on a regular basis on the playground. . . But I do want you to give me your opinion. I was thinking… Kevan Donagh Taylor-Kinney. Kevan - with the Irish spelling of an 'a' instead of an 'i' – is Irish for 'gentle child' and Donagh was the son of the famous Irish King, Brian Boru. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds perfect. I can't wait to meet little Kevan," Justin smiled down at his secretly sentimental sweetie.

"Actually, neither can I," Brian agreed, with his own smile directed inward towards the little life hiding inside him.

The two men lay there for several minutes, indulging their inner sappiness. But Justin was, of course, too hungry to stay in bed endlessly if they weren't going to be having sex. The energetic teen started to get squirmy.  

"So, what's on the agenda for today, Captain? Are we heading back to Fifth Avenue to quell your 'Label Queen' tendencies with a few hours of intensive retail therapy? Or can I maybe tempt you to explore your artistic side and visit MOMA with me?" Justin asked playfully.

"How about neither?" Brian proposed, looking up sheepishly at the bouncing and energetic young man. "Shopping, in my current condition, has lost much of its appeal. And, although I'm sure you would like nothing better than to spend hours mooning over the deeper meaning of some Jackson Pollack, I don't think my back would like it if I spent hours following you around some museum. What I'd really rather do is try and catch an earlier flight home . . . "

"And curl up on the couch all afternoon watching black and white movies while I feed you?" Justin teased, although he wasn't unhappy with the idea at all.

"Maybe," Brian conceded. "I'd probably let you blow me a couple times, too, if you were up for it . . . "

"Oh, I think I could be talked into that . . . Maybe," Justin kidded back, then he jumped out of bed and skipped off to the phone. "I'll have the concierge call the airline and then pack. You just lie there and continue to look beautiful!"

"Don't mind if I do!" Brian replied agreeably as he re-fluffed his pillows and made himself comfortable watching his blond dynamo bustle around their suite.

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The boys were lucky enough to get a flight out of JFK that left just two hours later. They were happily ensconced on the couch in the loft by four that afternoon with a bowl of popcorn and a big jug of ice tea that Justin had made sitting nearby. But they were only about 15 minutes into 'Rebel Without A Cause', when the movie was disturbed by the buzzing intercom from the downstairs door.

"Hey, Boy Wonder! Buzz me up already," Michael demanded as soon as Justin had said hello.

Justin looked over at Brian, still curled up on the couch with a light throw over his lower body and all the pillows they owned strategically distributed around his more portly frame. Brian shrugged and gestured to the boy to go ahead and let Michael up. Justin reluctantly buzzed open the front door.

Justin waited with the front door wide-open. It didn't take Michael long to race up the stairs to the loft. "Hey Brian," Michael enthusiastically greeted his best friend while ignoring Justin completely. "God, where've you been? I haven't seen you in so long. I've been trying to call you all week? So, what's up? How are you?"

"I've been busy, Mikey," Brian replied with his usual. "I do have this thing called a 'job' that keeps me off the streets and out of trouble most of the time. Don't you have one, too?"

"Don't remind me," Michael shook his head and plopped down into the armchair next to Brian. "Big Marley and I are doing the annual inventory audit next week and unfortunately I get to be in charge. But that's not till tomorrow. Tonight I thought we could skip out on dinner at Ma's, hit Woody's early and then see what other trouble we could get up to."

"Oh, and what, praytell, does Dr. Dave think of these rowdy plans of yours?" Brian asked, fishing for news on the status of that, hopefully defunct, relationship.

"David's history, I'm afraid," Michael admitted. "I didn't like how he was acting the other night at your party and he refused to explain all the shit he said. So, I'm back to being a swinging single again. Which means you and I can go out tonight and not have to worry about reporting back to anyone. It'll be like old times again."

"Good riddance! David was a manipulative jerk, although he wasn't bad looking for an old guy. But, I can't say as I'll miss the delightful coupling of 'Clueless and Crooked'," Justin interjected as he sat on the couch next to Brian, protectively pulling the blanket higher up his partner's side. "But WE," Justin indicated himself and Brian with his hand, "already have plans for tonight, Michael. So you'll have to go get into trouble all by yourself."

"Well YOU," Michael indicated, pointing at the blond teen, "weren't actually invited, so butt out." Michael turned to face Brian directly, trying to exclude Justin completely from the conversation. "Come on, Brian! Come on! We haven't hung out together in forever. I'm dying to hit the bar and then maybe go out dancing. Maybe pick up some hot guys. You know, just like we always used to?"

"Give me a break, Mikey," Brian sounded disgusted by the idea. "I just put in a 60 hour work week and topped it off with a business trip to New York for two days. I'm entitled to just relax for one evening. And I'm really not interested in going out dancing tonight. Sorry, you'll just have to give me a rain check or something."

"But, Briannnnn," Michael whined. "You never do anything fun anymore. You hardly ever go out. I'm worried about you."

"That's not true," Brian insisted. "I have fun all the time. In fact, just last night I went out on a date with a lovely young man who took me out to dinner and a show. He even took me to an arcade and won me this beautiful snake." Brian pulled the stuffed snake out from where it had been hidden among the pillows. "I named him, Fangs. So, you see, I do know how to have fun, I just don't always have to have you tagging along."

Michael looked at the stuffed green toy with evident confusion. Justin snickered in the background. Brian sat there and determinedly petted his toy snake, looking quite un-Brian-like.

"But . . . You don't DO dates," Michael insisted. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Well, I've changed my mind, Mikey. From now on I DO date. And I'm going to try a bunch of other stuff I never did before. Like, staying home on a Sunday night, eating popcorn and watching movies, snuggled up on the couch with Fangs, here. Who knows, I might find I like being domesticated. I might," Brian winked at Justin who was perched, laughing at the far end of the couch, "even contemplate doing 'relationships'. I'm feeling very adventurous lately. And strangely, I'm not in the least interested in getting a mediocre blow job from some talentless, faceless trick. So, you'll have to go out without me tonight, Mikey. Wave hello to all the backroom boys for me. Oh, and tell your mom that we're not going to make it to dinner. Something came up! You are UP, aren't you, Sunshine? I'm still waiting on that blow job you promised me earlier."

"What the fuck, Brian?" Michael started to protest.

"Justin, Fangs and I are too comfortable to get up. Do you mind seeing Mikey out?" Brian dismissed his visitor with a regal wave and restarted the DVD player. "Bye-bye, Mikey."

Justin put one hand on Michael's shoulder and gently shoved him towards the loft door. He was loving the rare sighting of the wiley 'Domesticated Brian'. The boy couldn't wait to get rid of their intruder and get back to the couch to reward his uncharacteristically playful partner. Justin was more than UP for that blow job now.

About a half hour later, Justin was finally coming up for air. He wiped a random drop of Brian’s cum off his lips with a corner of the blanket and then snuggled into the nest of pillows to get comfortable for the reset of the movie.

“So, not that I dislike watching Michael’s head spinning like that,” Justin couldn’t help asking. “But, why were you taunting him like that, Brian?”

“Mikey’s going to have a LOT to adjust to soon,” Brian explained. “I thought it would only be humane to pull the bandage off a little at a time. So, I’ll let him get his head wrapped around the idea of Brian Kinney going on dates and snuggling on the couch for an evening. Then, next week, when I yank the bandage all the way off and he sees GQ - when he sees that his Best Friend is a bit different than he always thought - maybe his head won’t completely explode.”

“Damn!” Justin kidded. “I was looking forward to watching Michael’s head explode. It would be really exciting! Now, he’ll probably just pass out or something else equally lame.”

“Now, now, Sunshine. Get those claws put back away. You shouldn’t taunt Mikey like that. It’s cruel,” Brian chided his lover gently. “Although, I admit, I’m looking forward to the fireworks myself. . . .”