Chapter 12 - Fansgiving.
'Oh, the NOISE! All the noise, noise, noise, noise! How do they expect a baby to think with all this noise?' Kevan wondered as he cringed away from yet another loud cackling sound that was far too close to his tiny eardrums for Kevan's taste.
Kevan had never in his short life heard quite so much noise. It seemed like there were hundreds of big people things everywhere he looked and all of them were babbling at the same time. Some were just making the usual mouth sounds he'd become accustomed to from big people things. But others were making loud happy sounds - really loud. Some were hollering really loudly. A couple were sitting in front of this big box in the corner that glowed with lights and colors and made other incomprehensible sounds and those people things were shouting loudly at the box. Closer to where Kevan was lying on the yellow one's lap, the big Red lady and the singing woman were babbling directly at his little face while they poked at him and the big goofy one hovered and talked in that annoyingly squeaky voice he sometimes used. There was even one little people thing crawling around on the floor and occasionally making the same loud unhappy sounds that Kevan always thought were his personal signature sounds.
Frankly, it was deafening and if Kevan thought he could get a sound in edgewise he'd be protesting loudly.
Only, every time Kevan thought it would be a good idea to voice his displeasure he got confused by another novel noise or a glimpse of some new people thing he didn't remember seeing before or he'd smell something he'd never experienced before or someone else would pick him up and jostle him.
Did they not understand just how distracting they were? It took a lot of concentration and effort to work up to a really good infant tantrum. Without a little peace and quiet and a minute or two for him to recall exactly how to kick and scream at the same time and at exactly the right pitch, Kevan didn't think he'd be able to work it.
'Oh, bother!' Kevan thought with the baby equivalent of an exasperated sigh - which sounded to most of the adults around him like a strangled gurgle.
It just wasn't worth the effort.
Kevan pursed his beautiful bowed lips, closed his dark blue eyes and drifted off to sleep in protest of all the disconcerting commotion.
Thanksgiving at Deb's house was Kevan's first big family gathering and Justin was pretty much a wreck after having been there only twenty minutes. Up until now they'd kept the almost three month old baby away from most large congregations of people. Between the infant's struggles with colic and Justin's fears of exposing him to germs, they'd always had good excuses to avoid most all social invitations so far. But at the last well baby checkup, Dr. Dahl had assured the nervous daddies that Kevan was a strong healthy little boy, confirmed that the colic seemed to be abating and promptly cleared him for any and all forms of socialization.
So much for Brian's ready made excuse to avoid any further Family Dinners.
Brian, Justin and Baby Kevan had arrived late - as was typical for Brian - but this time he couldn't blame it on having to fuck Justin into the mattress one more time before they left the house. Nope. Today they were late because apparently it took two full hours to get a baby ready to go to a simple family gathering. Not to mention that he'd had to dog Justin around the house for what seemed like forever, following the Twink's directions and packing practically everything Kevan owned into the Audi's trunk before Justin declared they were ready to go. Brian was amazed at how much shit one tiny baby apparently needed to have with him at all times. He was also thoroughly disgusted by the domesticality of the whole undertaking. I mean, really, Brian Kinney was NEVER meant to be reduced to packing and toting around a fucking diaper bag. Was he?
Needless to say, Brian was in a foul mood before the little family even arrived on the scene of the Thanksgiving Day Extravaganza.
Brian’s mood wasn’t improved much by the swarm of attention the trio received before they were even fully through the door of Debbie’s kitschy old house. There were just far too many people who thought it was somehow appropriate to hug, kiss or pat all three of them. Brian didn’t understand why his having had a baby automatically equated to permission for everyone he knew to now touch him whenever they saw him. Brian Kinney was NOT the hugging type. He thought these people knew that. So why the fuck were they all touching and hugging him like they hadn’t seem him in months?
On top of everything else, Brian was a bit peeved that the two Grandma’s - Deb and Jenn - swooped in and basically tore Kevan out of his arms before he’d even had a chance to catch his breath. This was the first big full-on family gathering he’d been to since having Kevan and he was, maybe, a little bit nervous about the experience himself. Not that he’d ever voice any such qualms. But, to have everyone descend on him all at once like that, stealing away his baby out of his arms and then subject him to all the family touchy-feely-ness all at once was more than a little disconcerting
Was it really any big surprise that Brian felt like growling at them, snatching his son back and then retreating as fast as possible?
Thankfully, Justin was as perceptive as ever when it came to his skittish man. While the new medications Chiefy had prescribed had gone a long way towards curbing Brian’s postpartum mood swings, Justin was still hyper-alert to anything that could set the man off. Accordingly, he promptly maneuvered Brian over to the far corner of the family room and had the big guy ensconced in Vic’s favorite armchair with a cold beer in his hand before the situation had deteriorated too much. Once he was safe away from the majority of the touchy-feely crowd and had a cold beer to help cool off his mood, Brian felt substantially better. After a few minutes he found he could even respond civilly to the more restrained greetings offered by the less aggressively friendly members of the old gang.
Justin heaved a relieved breath as soon as Brian started to relax and then hurried over to save his son from the overly-doting grandmothers, aunts and Emmett.
“I can’t believe Kevan is being so calm,” Lindsey commented for about the fifth time as she leaned over the back of the couch where Kevan was napping away in Justin’s lap while the new dad was flanked on each side by a devoted grandmother. “You’d think with all the chaos in here today, a newborn would be more startled. I don’t remember Gus being half this good during his first big family celebration. Hmmmm. I wonder . . . Have you had his hearing checked? You know that a lack of response to loud stimulus like this could indicate serious hearing problems. If I were you I would . . .”
Justin simply nodded politely to each of Lindsey’s suggestions and plastered a simpering little smile onto his face but said nothing. He still hadn’t completely forgiven Lindsey for the way she’d treated Brian before the baby was born. He couldn’t believe that the woman had the gall to sit there and act all concerned and caring now. And, while the last thing he wanted to do was be forced to listen to even more parenting advice from the likes of Lindsey Peterson, he was trying to hold in his temper so as not to ruin Thanksgiving before they’d even sat down to the table.
“In fact, I think hearing loss is a symptom of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,” Lindsey plathered on, seemingly oblivious to the way her unsolicited opinions were angering the young father they were directed at. “I know you said that Brian was careful with his drinking while he was pregnant, but . . . well, this IS Brian we’re talking about . . .”
“What exactly are you saying, Lindsey?” Justin shot back in a furious stage whisper before the meddlesome woman could even fully voice her accusations. “If you’re implying that Brian did ANYTHING that might have hurt Kevan, you’re way off base. Brian didn’t drink at ALL during his pregnancy. He’s a wonderful father and would NEVER do something that would hurt our son. The mere fact that you would think he could ever do something so reckless just proves you know nothing about Brian at all.”
“I didn’t mean . . .” Lindsey stood up and backed a few steps away, backtracking verbally as well.
Justin wasn’t willing to back down though. He handed Kevan off to his mother and jumped to his feet, rounding the end of the couch so he could confront the officious blonde nose to nose. “You didn’t mean to what? Stick your turned up nose in our business? Insinuate that Brian and I don’t know how to raise our son? Imply that Brian intentionally did something during his pregnancy that would have harmed our baby? Because that certainly seems like exactly what you’re doing Lindsey.”
“Well, I . . . I never said any of those things, Justin. Don’t you think you’re being a little over sensitive?” Lindsey pulled her self-righteousness around herself and bit back. “If Brian really was as cautious as you claim he was, then why are you overreacting so much, huh? I happen to have known Brian a hell of a lot longer than you and frankly I find it rather hard to believe that he didn’t have even a single drink for the nine whole months. Besides, all I was doing was offering a little bit of friendly advice as a concerned friend and seasoned parent. It can’t hurt to have Kevan’s hearing checked, you know. And I DON’T appreciate you rudely biting my head off like this, Justin! You’d think that now that you have a baby of your own you’d grow up and stop acting like such a brat yourself!”
“Fuck you, Lindsey!” Justin shot back, his anger seething out of every pore of his body at this point. “You don’t know SHIT about Brian anymore . . .”
By that point everyone else in the room had gone silent except for Gus, who had picked up on the tension and responded by tugging on his mother’s pant leg and whimpering. The rest of the Thanksgiving Day denizens were all staring, silent and gape-jawed, at the battle of the blonds. Even Brian was momentarily stunned at the vehemence of the argument over him. But when he saw Lindsey’s eyes narrow dangerously while her face got that pale white he knew signalled that she was about to get seriously vicious, Brian sprang out of his seat and rushed over. He shouldered his way in between the two, physically separating them with his body, and gently stroked Justin’s arm with his hand in order to calm him.
“That’s ENOUGH!” Debbie herself also intervened. “I will not have you two ruining my Thanksgiving. Now, BOTH of you need to shut the fuck up and go sit down in neutral corners.”
Debbie picked up the still sniffling Gus and handed him to Lindsey in order to give the woman something to concentrate on other than Justin. The ploy worked and Lindz moved off to the kitchen with Gus. Mel followed to show her support for her partner - as well as to make sure Lindsey stayed separated from Justin.
Jennifer followed Deb’s lead and carefully handed Kevan back to Justin, which served to almost immediately calm the rabid blond attack dog. Brian guided his boy back to the couch and then sat down protectively close in order to reassure himself as well as Justin that everything would be okay. As soon as everyone else saw that hostilities were at least temporarily halted the other conversations in the room gradually restarted as well. Vic, Ted, Ben and Michael returned to their heated discussion of the National Dog Show on the television - each arguing in favor of their favorite breed to win - while Debbie, Emmett and Jenn moved off to finish the feast preparations.
By the time that Deb called everyone to the table, it seemed that both blonds had cooled off sufficiently to sit at the same table together without bickering. Instead, they just sat across the table from one another and glared icily. Brian moved the baby carrier with a sleeping Kevan closer and then grabbed the chair next to Justin. If he wasn’t afraid of getting his own head bit off, he would have laughed at how territorial the other parents of his two sons were acting. He really DIDN’T want to encourage them, though, so he decided to sit quietly and say nothing.
As soon as everyone was seated around the very crowded table, Debbie enthusiastically began handing around serving platters and bowls full of every possible Thanksgiving staple ever invented. Besides the absolutely huge turkey that Vic had been put in charge of carving, there were bowls of wild rice stuffing, homemade cranberry sauce, a big sauteuse full of roasted potatoes, yams and parsnips, homemade rolls, green bean casserole and baked acorn squash. The quantities of food were copious. It was easily conceivable that Deb could have fed three times the number of guests - which made Brian worried about the amounts of leftovers each of them would be saddled with.
Deb was completely in her element though. She was grinning from ear to ear and ordering various people to try a particular dish, foisting off extra large helpings and praising Vic’s carving prowess. Because of all this, it took her a few minutes before she noticed that Brian, who was sitting at the far end of the table, had been passing on every single dish without serving himself anything.
“Brian Kinney! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Why is your plate still empty?” Debbie admonished loudly enough that it interrupted everyone else’s conversations - again.
“I’m good, Deb,” Brian tried to deflect his surrogate Mom’s concern with his typical nonchalance, even though he knew it was probably futile.
“You’ll be ‘good’ when I see some food on your plate,” Deb insisted, her red-lacquered fingernail pointing directly at Brian’s head.
“I can’t eat all this shit, Deb. I’ll blow up like a fucking balloon,” Brian returned, trying to sound firm and not apologetic - showing any fear when talking with Debbie was always dangerous. When Deb’s expression didn’t show ANY sign of relenting, Brian felt compelled to explain. “You know I’ve got the photoshoot for the Armani ad next week and I’ve GOT to lose at least five pounds before then. I’m sick and tired of looking like a fucking whale.”
“Brian,” Justin interrupted in a hushed voice, “we’ve talked about this. You don’t look like a whale and you know it’s not healthy for you to skip meals. Both Chiefy and Dr. Dahl told you it would just take a little time . . .”
“Fuck that! I don’t HAVE any more time, Justin. The shoot is NEXT week. And, instead of losing the rest of the damn baby weight, I’ve actually gained back a couple pounds,” Brian whined back in spite of the embarrassing fact that the entire family was listening in by this point. “Besides, I’m not going to skip a meal. I brought my own,” Brian announced, holding up one of the Kalteen meal replacement bars he’d been living off of lately.
Debbie abruptly walked over behind Brian’s chair and snatched the Kalteen bar packet out of the man’s hand before he had any chance to protest. “Today is Thanksgiving, you little asshole. It’s not the time to be dieting and I WON’T have you replacing the delicious food I worked on preparing for the past two days with some pre-packaged, tasteless diet bar shit! The whole fucking point of Thanksgiving is that you sit down with your family, enjoy the bounty of the land and be thankful that you have food to eat, especially when some people have nothing. Now, if I don’t see some turkey and stuffing on that plate in the next thirty seconds, I’ll be ripping you a new one and stuffing the rest of your Thanksgiving dinner up it!”
“Fuck me . . .” Brian mumbled, pouting like a petulant five year old as he grudgingly let Justin serve him two slices of turkey and a good-sized spoonful of stuffing.
When Justin also started to add a healthy serving of potatos, Brian tried to pull his plate away, “Folic acid, Brian,” was all Justin said before Brian conceded, again with evident poor grace, and allowed the addition of the tubers of his plate after all.
The rest of the meal progressed with a lot less drama once Brian was force fed by Debbie. He even ate most of what he’d been served, but didn’t say much. Deb was just about to call Brian on his brooding, when Justin intercepted the woman’s criticizing look and, with a stern frown and intent gaze, shook his head expressly. Deb took the warning to heart and decided to back off of Brian for the rest of the meal. She didn’t want to have to take on both Brian and Justin at the same time - especially on what was supposed to be a happy, festive day.
After dinner, Brian retreated upstairs to see to Kevan - happy to be feeding and changing the infant away from all the prying and judgmental eyes of his pseudo-family for a time. Even Justin kept his distance for awhile, careful to let Brian have his space and leery of setting off another negative mood swing. But, when Brian reemerged with the baby in his arms a half-hour later, he seemed much calmer. For the rest of the evening he acted content to loll on the floor in the living room with Kevan and Gus together on his lap, refereeing the interaction between the happily babbling infant and the curious toddler who seemed intent on poking out the baby’s eyes.
Nobody even TRIED to get Brian to consume a piece of one of the three pies offered - apple, pecan and pumpkin - when the rest of the gang had their dessert.
The after Thanksgiving plan was for the parents to leave the children with Grandma Debbie and Grandma Jenn so that they could all enjoy a night of freedom and adult entertainment.
Most of the gang was already gone, headed over to Woody’s, before Brian finally managed to get an over-protective Justin to relinquish control over his offspring to the grandmothers. Granted, it WAS hard to leave the little tyke just when Kevan was doing this amazingly adorable new trick - little mini-pushups while lying on his tummy on the floor. Even Brian found himself gazing fondly at his son, smiling with pride every single time the baby lifted his head on the spindly little neck and then pushed with his tiny balled fists until he managed to raise his shoulders a few inches off the baby blanket that he was lying on. Brian blamed the sentimental feelings this little display engendered on the hormones again, which allowed him to indulge in a few moments of doting Kevan watching without feeling too guilty or lesbionic.
Eventually, though, both Brian and Justin pulled themselves away from their admittedly fascinating child and headed off to the bar to join their friends. The gang had already taken possession of one of the pool tables and an adjacent high-top table which had a half full pitcher of beer waiting on it. Brian immediately pulled up a stool next to the tall table and poured himself a tall, frosty pint. It felt good to be back on his old stomping grounds again. He had only been to Woody’s a couple of times since the baby was born - between work, his new celebrity status and having to adjust to being a ‘Family Man’ now, not to mention the fatigue, colic and mood swings he’d been fighting against, Brian hadn’t had much time over the past few months to just hang out and be a guy. It was so refreshing to be back on Liberty Avenue in familiar surroundings once again.
At least it felt good for the first fifteen minutes or so, right up until the first brazen fan approached him with his camera phone already snapping pics.
“Hey, man! Aren’t you that prego dude? Can I get your autograph?” the fawning twenty-something guy gushed as he invaded Brian’s personal space, jostling the arm he was holding his beer with at the same time and causing beer to slosh out all over Brian’s wrist. “Wow! This is so cool that I get to meet you. You know, you look totally normal, man. In fact, you look pretty hot. Nobody’d know you were, like, the prego guy, you know,” the annoying fan went on and on, touching Brian’s shoulder in an almost intimate manner.
Justin - who was just coming back over to join Brian after taking a minute to clandestinely arrange with Ben to have more of the Kalteen ‘diet’ bars delivered to Brian’s workout buddy so they could continue the necessary deception of the misguided dieter - instantly bristled at the sight of some random stranger groping at his baby-daddy. “FUCK OFF!” Justin stated emphatically, insinuating himself between the interloper and Brian with an almost feral snarl.
“Whoa, dude! Like, what’s your problem-o?’ the fan retorted, taking one small step back but not moving any further from Brian than he was forced to by Justin’s physical presence.
“My ‘problem-o’, DUDE, is that this is our table and you weren’t invited to join us. Now, get your greasy paws off my friend and go back to whatever rock you climbed out from under or you’re gonna lose one of your favorite appendages - and I’m not talking about an arm or leg, here, DUDE,” Justin demanded, his angry presence making him seem to tower over the interloper despite the fact that the newcomer was at least a couple of inches taller.
“Hey, chill, man,” the fanboy replied, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender as he slowly backed away from the prickly young blond bodyguard. “I’m going already. I’m going.”
“Way to scare off my fan base, Sunshine,” Brian snarked when Justin was finally satisfied with the fan’s increased distance and turned to take up his own beer from the high-top table.
“Yeah, well, I’m not in the mood for your ‘fans’ tonight, Brian. Especially after the way they tried to fucking swarm us the other day at the hospital. I mean, asking for autographs is one thing, but no way am I gonna let some airhead fanboy manhandle you like that,” Justin asserted vehemently.
“I’ve never heard Brian complain about manhandling before,” Ted quipped back with a snarky little smile.
“Yeah, but that’s only when I’M the one doing the handling, Theodore,” Brian replied, all the while leering suggestively at another newcomer - this one tall, dark-haired and well built - who was eyeing him up from the next table over.
Brian’s eye fuck was interrupted at that point, however, when yet another camera flash went off less than five feet from his face as rabid fan number four snapped a quick pic on his cell phone
“Except that you won’t be manhandling anybody here tonight,” Ted responded, even as Justin shooed the newest shutterbug away from their table and simultaneously gave the trick Brian had been flirting with the evil eye.
Brian’s concentration on the tall dark trick wavered as soon as he heard Ted’s assertion, much to Justin’s secret relief.
When Ted noticed Brian looking at him with a confused expression, he went on to explain. “You’ve got to be a lot more careful now that you’re doing the Armani modeling gig, right? I mean, of course they know you’re gay and all, but I doubt the big wigs at Armani are gonna want to see a picture of you fucking some random backroom guy all over the tabloids. I’m sure your contract has some kind of celebrity indiscretion clause - you know, like those basketball players who lose their endorsements if they get caught with a prostitute and other shit like that?”
“You mean that Brian could lose his modeling job just for fucking someone? That’s totally bogus,” Michael complained, always the first to support his ‘Best Friend’s’ right to behave as wantonly and immaturely as possible.
“I haven’t actually read the contract, but I’d bet you good money there’s some type of indiscretion clause in there. And they usually word them so vaguely that, yeah, it could easily apply to Brian getting caught having casual sex somewhere," Ted continued explaining.
Unfortunately for the dark-haired, muscle-bound trick who chose that moment to approach, Brian realized that Ted was probably right. He remembered that contract provision - the lawyer at Ryder who had looked over the contract had specifically pointed it out to him - but he hadn’t really thought about it before in that light. Now that Ted pointed it out, though, Brian reluctantly agreed that even something that he thought was a non-issue, like fucking in public, might easily get made into a big deal by the type of corporate execs that ran Armani.
“Shit!” Brian shook his head and waved off the trick. “Not interested,” he added when the trick didn’t get the message at first and instead just stood there looking at him as if he’d just lost his winning lottery ticket.
Even then, it wasn’t until Sunshine gave the guy a facetious little wave and told him - very sweetly - to “Fuck Off”, that the guy finally got the revelation that his ass wasn’t needed at the moment.
Brian tried to hide the fact that he found Justin’s little show of possessiveness to be just a tiny bit endearing by turning his attention to the pitcher of beer on the table. Justin never made a big deal about that kind of shit for fear of antagonizing his skittish man, and simply moved on to his turn at the pool table. However, neither of them missed the unspoken fact that Justin wasn’t in the least bit upset that Brian’s blatant tricking was curtailed for the foreseeable future. Of course, Brian wasn’t really all that upset over the development either, seeing as he wasn’t in any hurry to have their ongoing raw sex opportunities shot to hell quite yet. Although, it did rankle a little that his freedom seemed curtailed at the same time. And he really shouldn’t encourage the little twat in his delusion of exclusivity - it wasn’t like they were married or anything, right?
All of which probably explained why Brian seemed so much more receptive when the next fanboy approached their table.
“Hey, Brian! Wow, it’s so great to see you out again. You’ve been pretty much MIA ever since the baby, you know. Liberty Avenue has really missed you lately,” the bubbly, smiling young man burbled as he literally bounced up to Brian’s side.
“Uh . . . right,” Brian seemed at a total loss for words after that boisterous greeting but still he didn’t tell the kid to get lost the way he normally would. “You’re the kid from the other day at the hospital . . . Tab, right?” Brian fumbled with the name for the kid who obviously hadn’t made any real lasting impression on him outside of the fact that the guy HAD managed to get him and Justin away from that mob of fans.
“Taggart. It’s Taggart,” the boy corrected Brian, his face falling for a brief time when he realized Brian didn’t remember his name. “It’s an Irish name, you know. Just like Brian. You know, I read somewhere that the name ‘Brian’ means ‘noble warrior’ - it so totally fits you too. I mean, how brave do you have to be to come out about being the first male pregnancy in North America. And to do it with such style too.”
Brian looked at the kid with a slightly bemused expression. This Taggart was even more enthusiastic about stupid trivial factoids than Justin, which was definitely a bit annoying. On the other hand, Brian couldn’t help but be a little flattered by the kid’s shameless hero-worship.
“Can we help you,” Justin, who was standing next to Brian’s chair, inserted himself into the conversation at that point, which was fine with Brian since he had no idea how to respond to Taggart’s last bold statement.
“Um . . . hey,” Taggart reluctantly replied to Justin’s overtly hostile greeting but almost immediately turned his full attention back to Brian. “So, Brian, where’s the adorable baby Kevan tonight? It must be tough leaving the little guy with a sitter - I bet you miss him like the dickens when you’re away from him. If I had such an amazing little boy like that I probably wouldn’t be able to leave him for even a minute. But then again, I’m sure that, what with you being a first time parent, you really need to get out and have a break every now and then. I’m sure Kevan is a perfect angel, but even then, a guy like you, Brian, probably needs time to let loose and have some adult fun too,” Taggart added with a sly, almost leer in Brian’s direction.
“Where OUR son is and whether or not Brian and I need parenting breaks really aren’t any of your concern,” Justin bristled through gritted teeth, looking at Taggart as if the kid possessed some communicable disease.
Taggart seemingly didn’t even hear Justin’s contemptuous words, though. He just beamed an even bigger smile at Brian, talking a mile a minute and waxing poetic about everything from the way Brian wore his hair, to how cool he thought it was that Brian still managed to keep his studly figure even after giving birth to little Kevan. Justin was glowering at the guy so intently that it was amazing his gaze hadn’t drilled holes in Taggart’s skull, but the clueless fan steadfastly ignored the irate blond.
Brian leaned his stool back on two legs with his back propped against the wall and simply looked on with amusement, prepared to enjoy himself while his two biggest fans battled for his attentions. There wasn’t any doubt in Brian’s mind who the winner of this battle royale would be - Taggart was cute enough, but Justin could undoubtedly take him - yeah this was going to be damned entertaining. At least until they got home and Brian had to deal with the great blond hurricane known as Justin Taylor.
By this time, the rest of the gang had circled around the spectacle of Brian, Justin and the new twink. Brian apparently wasn’t the only one who found the sour look on Justin’s face every time Taggart voiced yet another fawning compliment extolling Brian’s every perfection to be comical. Both Mikey and Ted were snickering behind their beers. Emmett was looking like he couldn’t decide between being amused or being just as proprietary and annoyed as Justin. Knowing these guys, it wouldn’t be long before they started placing bets on who would win.
However, all the fun was over before it had even truly begun. Sunshine had grown tired of this little whatever-the-fuck-he-was slobbering all over his man like he was the prime rib special at Papagano’s. When Taggart made the ultimate mistake of laying his hand on Brian’s shoulder and leaning in to seductively whisper a clearly improper proposition into the big stud’s ear, Justin’s pint glass full of beer conveniently slipped out of his hand and somehow ended up spilling over the top of Taggart’s head.
“Oh, my. Look at that. I’m such a klutz tonight,” Justin exclaimed without even a hint of an apology. Turning to a wide eyed, giggling Brian Kinney, Justin announced brusquely, “we’re leaving now, Brian.”
Brian thought it wise not to say anything and to immediately comply with the pissed off blond’s directions.