Chapter 7 - Something’s Seriously Wrong.

Brian reached across the table and snatched the last two fries off Justin's plate. The teen watched as the fry thief dunked his stolen booty in the small bowl of gravy that Brian had ordered on the side (supposedly for Justin's benefit - although the youth hated the gloppy, greasy gravy they served at the Diner and would never, in a million years, defile a french fry with such slop). Brian hurriedly stuffed the dripping mess into his mouth and then looked back at his companion's plate, seemingly surprised that all the fries were gone.

Justin was actually a little surprised too. Okay, he knew Brian wasn't really quite as strict about his diet as he always made out. It wasn't the first time the image-conscious man had nibbled off his young friend's plate. But, usually, Brian restrained himself to one or two bites. Tonight, Justin had only gotten about five fries before Brian had set to and devoured all the rest. He'd also ordered and finished off his own plate of chicken fried steak, a large spinach and broccoli salad and was now turning towards the baked potato that he'd ladened with sour cream, butter and cheese. Granted, it was still early, so the 'No Carbs After Seven' rule wasn't technically being violated, but still, it was a bit odd

Deb sauntered over and dropped off the check for their meal, casually giving Brian a quizzical glance as she passed him. Brian didn't notice, as he was concentrating on his potato to the exclusion of all else around him. The red wigged waitress and the blond youth exchanged curious looks but neither dared comment.

"So, Sunshine," Debbie asked in her typical ironic fashion. "Should we expect to see you at home any time this week? You DO remember you have a bed upstairs at my house, don't you?"

"Um . . . Yeah . . . Sorry, Deb. I'll be there tonight," Justin tried to placate the mother hen.

"You better be," Debbie warned, pointing a red-tipped finger at him with mock seriousness.

Something about the conversation finally penetrated Brian's food-induced haze and he looked up just as Debbie waddled off. "I thought maybe you'd want to come to Babylon with me and the boys tonight," was Brian's not-so-indifferent comment.

Justin took a deep breath. "I can't tonight, Brian," the boy started to explain. "I've got a Physics test tomorrow that I've got to study for and I . . . "

"You can study at the loft before we go out," Brian interrupted.

"Well, yeah, but . . . " Justin hesitated, weighing the risks of being honest versus his companion's likely response. Finally, the boy made a decision and launched out with his real reason. "Fuck it, Brian! Honestly? I want to go home and get some sleep. I haven't been home since Sunday. You've picked me up from school every day this week and immediately spirited me away to the loft where you've kept me very, very busy, pretty much all night long, every night. Mind you, I'm not complaining about the non-stop sex. I'm with you up to a point on that, but, I've GOT to get some sleep and I really do have this test tomorrow and . . . "

Justin's voice trailed off worriedly. He HATED turning Brian down, no matter what the man asked of him. In fact, he'd been ecstatic that Brian had been so attentive - actually pursuing Justin rather than the other way around for the past couple days. But, damn it, didn't the man have to sleep once in a while? Justin knew Brian's sex drive was legendary on Liberty Avenue, but it had never been directed solely at him. And, frankly, his ass needed a night off.

"Justin. . . " Brian said his name, a sad undertone breaking through the usual mocking, disdainful tone. Brian looked around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation, then reached across the table, stroking the back of Justin's hand with one long, seductive finger and looking up with soulful, sad-puppy-dog eyes, he almost begged, "we don't have to go out, if you don't want. We can stay in and I'll . . . make it worth your while." The eyebrows did that sexy thing they do, arching up in a teasing fashion.

Justin hated to say no. He'd been pursuing Brian Kinney relentlessly for months now. Finally, his efforts seemed to be paying off and . . . what? . . . He couldn't keep up? This was so wrong. Something was just not right. Justin thought he had Brian all figured out and then, kablooey, the entire game changed on him. What was he supposed to say?

"Briannnn!" Michael's whiny, high pitched wail rang out, piercing all the other noises that inundated the Diner, as the small brunet deftly insinuated himself into the booth where Justin and Brian had been sitting, pushing the teen aside so that he could be face-to-face with Brian.

"Hey, Mikey," Brian replied, pulling his hand back from Justin's abruptly  and changing his tone to the usual Kinney sneer.

"Hey, Boy Wonder," Michael belatedly acknowledged Justin's presence, then turned to focus his attention solely on the singular object of his affection. "So, Brian, we're still on for Babylon tonight, right? David's meeting me there. And Ted and Em are coming too, of course. I hope there's some fresh meat for you there tonight. You were saying how the pickings have been pretty slim lately . . . "

Michael babbled on, completely oblivious to the emotions of the others sitting with him. Justin was ashamed to admit that he was thankful for the interruption. Brian's eyes sought out Justin, and the youth thought he saw a hint of wistful regret in the hazel depths, but he couldn't be sure because the famous Kinney mask was already firmly set in place.

"Mikey!" Brian demanded his friend's attention. "Stop! Take a breath. Shit, you've been babbling on for the past fifteen minutes. Do you even remember what you said? Don't you occasionally have to stop for breath or something," Brian chided, knowing his friend wouldn't take the rebuke all that seriously.

"Fuck off, Brian," Michael responded playfully.

That clinched it. Justin was officially off the hook from that moment on since the Best Friend had officially taken over. The teen wasn't sure whether to be thankful that he now had the perfect opportunity to escape for the night, or to be annoyed at Michael for usurping his time with Brian. He decided to take the pick, though, and bug off while he had the opening. He shoved at Michael until the older man got the hint and slid out, letting Justin leave.

"Wait up!" Brian demanded as Justin headed towards the door. Justin paused while the noted lothario trotted over to catch him up. Brian swiftly grabbed at the youth's arm and led the boy out of the crowded Diner before finishing their conversation. "You could come over tomorrow, after you finish with your test," he said suggestively, his body movements giving away nothing, although his voice was almost pleading.

"I could do that," Justin conceded, amazed at being given another chance after turning the Stud down before.

"Good," replied the Stud-in-question.

Brian pushed the youth backwards against the nearest parked car, Justin's hip pressing awkwardly into the side mirror. Brian's pursuit was relentless, though. He moved his body in tightly against the slender frame of his young blond, invading the boy's aura, until their lips found each other. The kiss was brief - Brian Kinney had no problem whatsoever fucking in public, but would never be caught dead exchanging tender displays of actual affection.

"Mmmm," Brian commented as he pressed his lower body harder against a trapped Justin. "How the fuck is it that you always smell so good, Sunshine," he whispered huskily, inhaling a huge whiff of the youth's natural musky sweetness.

Justin could feel Brian's hard erection pressing against his belly. The heat coming off the aroused brunet was palpable even through the layers of their clothing. Justin started to rethink his decision to take a night off as that heat seeped into him, focusing specifically in his groin. But the mood was shattered as a large group of rowdy men came down the sidewalk, shouting a greeting to the well-known pair, and Brian pushed himself reluctantly away.

"Later, Pretty Boy." Brian smiled and turned to re-enter the Diner.

"Later," Justin replied breathlessly, determined to use his night off well and get lots of rest for whatever it was Brian had planned for him tomorrow.

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

"So, what in the world is up with the Big Bad, tonight?" Emmett asked, yelling a bit so his buddies could hear him over the pounding disco music that was a constant at Babylon. "He doesn't seem up to his usual studliness. He's been nursing that same beer ever since we got here and I just saw him turn down two tricks?"

"It's worse than you think, Em," Ted commented, looking pointedly at his watch. "We've been here almost an hour and Mr. Kinney hasn't even made it to the backroom once."

Emmett and Ted looked at each other for a moment, trying to maintain their serious, concerned looks, and then just gave up and let the amused giggles erupt. Michael scowled at the jokesters. He didn't think it the least bit amusing. Brian wasn't acting like Brian, and that alone really messed with Michael's concept of how the universe should be ordered. Something had to be done, immediately!

"Shut the fuck up, you guys," Michael admonished his still laughing friends. "I think something's seriously wrong with Brian."

"Calm down, Michael," Ted chided his pouting friend. "Just because Brian hasn't fucked someone in over an hour, it doesn't mean the world's coming to an end."

"No, really, guys. I'm worried," Michael pulled his friends in closer so that they could speak in more conspiratorial tones. "Remember last Sunday when Brian had those really bad cramps while we were having dinner at Ma's? Brian said he thought it was just a bad reaction to some shit Anita had given him the night before. But David said it could be something much more serious and thought Brian should go to the doctor or something. Of course he hasn't. And then earlier tonight, when I asked why he wasn't drinking Beam like he usually does, he told me his stomach's bugging him. He said he's been getting the same cramps all week. What if it's something bad, like an ulcer or cancer or something? You guys have to help me talk him into seeing a doctor."

"Jeez, overreact much, Michael?" Ted kidded his overly concerned friend.

"Yeah, honey," Emmett added in a much less sarcastic tone, petting the hyper-active little brunet's shoulder to try and calm him down. "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably just a little tummy bug, you know. I mean, even the great Brian Kinney is probably subject to seasonal colds and the flu, right?"

"But Brian's never sick, Em. And he's just not acting like himself, at all," Michael said, already in high-whine mode. "Here, watch this," he added and stepped away from the group for a minute to arrange a demonstration.

Michael boldly stepped up to a tall, very buff brunet, with longish, curly dark hair and classic, handsome features. He pulled the guy down so he could say something quietly in the man's ear, pointing while he talked at the spot along the bar where Brian was lounging all alone. The eye-candy looked at the lanky stud, smiled and shrugged his shoulders, then nodded to Michael and started sauntering over to where Brian was waiting. Michael returned to his friends, indicating that they should watch the show he'd just set up.

Mr. Hunkalicious walked straight up to Brian, smiled a big toothy grin and said something the boys couldn't hear. He emphasized his offer by running one hand languidly down Brian's chest, ending with his index finger hooked into the waistband of the tall stud's tight black jeans. Brian cooly looked the guy up and down then, to the utter surprise of the watchers, he scrunched up his nose, shook his head and said loudly enough that his friends could hear, "not interested."

"Fuck!" Ted swore as they all watched the unsuccessful suitor move off to find other prospects.

"See!" Michael insisted. "I told you. Something's very, very wrong here."

"Well, you might actually have something, Michael," Emmett conceded as he move towards Brian, the rest of the group trailing behind. When he reached the empty spot against the bar next to his studly friend, Emmett looked concerned.

"Hey, Bri. You're awfully quiet tonight. Everything okay," Em asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Brian shrugged and pushed away his still half full beer bottle. "I'm bored. It's a complete Troll-Fest in here tonight," Brian complained.

All three of his friends stared in amazement at this bold faced lie. If Brian thought Mr. Hunkalicious qualified as a troll, maybe the man needed to get his eyesight checked. The gang didn't know how to respond. The Brian Kinney they knew should have jumped on the man's obvious offer, and then immediately jumped on the guy himself. Who WAS this imposter standing in front of them?

Michael was about to protest, but didn't get a chance. Brian pushed away from the bar, announcing abruptly, "I'm outta here! Night, boys!"

The three amigos stood watching mutely as the Stud of Liberty Avenue strode away, heading towards the club's exit. Before Brian got to the doors, three other potential tricks had tried to interest him. The trio watched, dumbfounded, as the great Stud blew them all off and quietly slipped out the door.

"I'm going to talk to Ma!" Michael declared, the worry on his face echoed in the countenances of his companions.