Chapter 15 - Home, Studly, Home.

‘From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere’,  Dr. Suess.

‘Wow! What’s that?’ Kevan thought as something red zoomed by his stroller too fast for him to really focus on it completely. ‘Wow! What’s that?’ Another thing, blue this time, zipped by. Kevan gurgled in wonder at the unknown things that were whizzing around him.

“Blah blah, Kevan! Blah! Aunt Daphne blah blah blah!” the brown person thing who was pushing his stroller today commented loudly as she pointed her colorful glove at more of the bright zooming things racing by. “See blah blah cars, Kevan?"

Kevan was truly amazed at all the funny things he was seeing everywhere he went these days. It was like there were all these crazy, unknown, miraculous things all around him that he just hadn’t noticed before and then all of a sudden he DID notice them. Kevan didn’t understand how it happened, exactly. He thought maybe all the funny things had been hiding and just now decided to appear. What else would explain how he just now started to see things he’d never even thought could exist?

The Brown One was pretty fun to hang out with though. Maybe she had done something to cause the new funny zooming things to appear? She did seem almost as interested in them as Kevan was. But then again, most of the person things in Kevan’s life were very easily amused, so that didn’t surprise him.

After hours, or maybe days (Kevan was still a little hazy on the passage of linear time), Kevan noticed that he was getting a bit cold. When he turned his head around a bit he saw there was a lot of white stuff covering over pretty much everything around his stroller. The white stuff was new too. He didn’t remember being cold when he was out in his stroller before either. Maybe there was some connection between the white stuff and the cold? Nah - that was just crazy! However, he was a smart baby and did know enough to tell the Brown One that he did not like the cold - whatever the reason for it might be - and that he wanted to go somewhere less cold. Which is why he commenced with the requisite crying - his preferred method of communication in all such situations.

This Brown One apparently wasn’t a complete dummy, thankfully, and she immediately started pushing the stroller back down the grey pathway. A few minutes or hours or days later, Kevan was happy to note that they were back at the doorway that led inside the place where his pretty brown and green room was kept. He was pleased that he would be back in his favorite place, which, by the way, was never too cold and did not have white stuff over everything.

Kevan was even more happy to note that his Yellow One - also known these days as Papa, since that was the sound he heard most when the Yellow One was babbling at him - was waiting for him. The Papa was sort of growing on Kevan. Originally, it was all about The Daddy, since he was the one that smelled so good and had that way of making Kevan’s tummy feel all nice and warm and full. The Daddy really was the best at tummy warming - he just had a way about him, you know. But it seemed like The Daddy wasn’t always around when Kevan needed a warm tummy. The Papa seemed like he was much more reliable lately. And, yes, the Silly One was still a good second option for tummy warming, but he was just so silly . . . No, Kevan was definitely leaning towards The Papa as his go to person thing for tummy warming these days.

But, joy of joys, not long after the Brown One undid all the unpleasant strap things that kept him in the stroller and then handed him over to The Papa, while Kevan and The Papa were just hanging out together on their tummies and looking at things the way they both liked to do on occasion, The Daddy appeared out of nowhere! Kevan watched as The Daddy walked across the room and then sat down on the big black thing nearby. It was so nice to see The Daddy there where he belonged - which of course was wherever Kevan needed him to be. Kevan thought really hard for a few moments - trying to remember again just how, precisely, to do the thing he wanted to do - and then eventually he managed to make the face where his lips turned up at the corners AND make the happy little noise that his person things seemed to like so much. “Guurrgghhh!”

“Good Morning, boys!” The Daddy said with his happy mouth sounds. Kevan tried to make the same sounds back at him but only managed another ‘guuurrggghhh’. He tried to wait patiently while The Daddy and The Papa made lots of babbling noises at each other and did other, completely useless things. I mean, it wasn’t that Kevan didn’t enjoy the times he and The Pape spent looking at things while lying on their tummies, but what he really wanted just then was to go to The Daddy. But then, finally, happily, The Papa picked Kevan up and deposited him in The Daddy’s big, comfy, welcoming lap.

After that, all was well with Kevan’s world. He got to make happy mouth sounds with The Daddy. The Daddy held him and kissed him and played with him. And then The Daddy did that thing where he made Kevan’s tummy so warm and full and happy that Kevan just couldn’t take it anymore. He fell asleep while being held in The Daddy’s big warm hands.

All was right in Kevan’s world for another day. What more could anyone ask for. It was really funny that way.

Brian awoke slowly to the pleasant sensation of warm slippery fingers kneading his shoulders while additional zones of warmth radiated out from several spots lower down on his back. The pressure exerted on his tense muscles was exquisite - not too hard but hard enough to dig into the tissues that needed the most attention. He couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure that creaked out of him as the fingers came across a particularly sore spot and worked it until the muscle fibers were loose and completely pain free. Fuck, this felt so good. He wriggled a little to try to guide the prodding fingers to another troublesome spot and in the process he felt one of the warm weights on his lower back slide off his skin.

“You need to hold still,” a familiar low tenor voice whispered into his ear. “I promise to get to each and every spot you want before we’re through. But first you need to let the warming stones do their job on your lower back muscles.”

Brian gladly complied, stilling his body in order to let his private masseur have his way. Who was he to baulk at such excellent treatment. If the massaging continued, he’d probably lay here all day without moving.

“That’s my good little stud muffin,” the teasing tenor purr praised him while the fingers rubbed just a tad deeper, and Brian didn’t even think once about getting annoyed by being called by such a horrid pet name.

A few minutes later, Brian felt the warm weights resting on his lower back being lifted. He peeled open one eye and watched as his boy masseur carefully placed several large smooth river rocks into some type of pot that was plugged in and waiting on the shelf next to Brian’s side of the bed. Each cooled rock was then replaced with a new, hot stone, which Justin distributed all over Brian’s back - moving them so that many were now arrayed along the top of his shoulders with a few others dotting his buttocks and down his thighs this time. As soon as the rocks were situated according to the boy’s satisfaction, he turned, squirted some massage oil out of a small bottle onto the the palm of one hand, rubbed his hands together and then resumed his massage, this time along the muscles lower down below Brian’s shoulder blades.

Each time he sunk his fingers into the stiff muscles of Brian’s back, each movement, was perfectly gauged by Justin to get his tight as a spring lover to completely relax.

Justin wasn’t oblivious to the stress Brian had been communicating each night they’d talked on the phone while he’d been away. He'd also immediately recognized the tension visible in every line of his lover’s long lanky frame when the man had appeared in his loft studio the night before. He knew that Brian was constantly under far too much pressure to be perfect - most of which came from Brian himself. Brian had always been his own worst enemy in that regard. He just had to be the best at every single thing he did or was - be it his work, his body, or now this modelling job. Add to that Brian’s unspoken but still there desire to prove to himself and all the doubters around him that he could be the best father ever, and it made for quite a burden.

Which was exactly why Justin had planned this little treat for his stressed out partner. Of course he’d had all the massage materials set out and ready the night before, but after that phenomenal fuck, causing them both to virtually pass out from the pleasure, they hadn’t gotten around to the massage. When he’d woken up though, and could still feel a certain amount of residual stress coming through from Brian’s tired muscles even while the man was sleeping, Justin knew just how to start off their day the right way. A quick call to Auntie Daphne to take Kevan for a morning outing and Justin was prepared to spend all the time he needed to take care of his man the right way.

As Justin’s sensitive fingers deftly worked at each and every knot of muscle, stroking away any remaining vestige of tension from his body, Brian slowly dissolved into a happy, warm, puddle of goo. Every few minutes the blond masseur would switch out the warming stones, keeping the tissues that he wasn’t actively working warmed through the use of the hot stones as he inexorably moved his attentions downward. By the time Justin had reached Brian’s well toned glutes, he could no longer feel any tightness in any part of his relaxed lover.

Which was precisely how Justin wanted him. Completely and totally relaxed. Every last part of him. Including, hopefully, Brian’s tight, hot, thoroughly delightful ass.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning, Sunshine,” Brian’s voice creaked just a bit when he finally spoke up right as Justin was massaging the globes of Brian’s ass.

“I’m planning on making you feel so good you won’t care what I do or how I go about it, big guy,” Justin replied without altering the direction his massaging fingers were headed.

“Hmmmrph,” was Brian’s only response - which Justin decided constituted consent as far as he was concerned.

Swiping his hand through the little puddle of still warm massage oil that had accumulated in the small of Brian’s back, Justin used the slick substance to thoroughly coat his dick - which had, incidentally, been hard ever since he’d first touched Brian’s shoulders and had only gotten stiffer as Brian’s muscles loosened. Then, taking advantage of the fact that his fingers were still nice and slick, he dug his fingers deeper into the crack of Brian’s ass and massaged the muscles that he found there as well. Working the puckered muscles there just the same as he’d been doing with the muscles of Brian’s back, he had his lover nice and open in very little time. As soon as he heard the soft, barely-there ‘mmmm’ that seemed to escape from Brian without his even being aware, Justin slipped his hard length inside.

“Fuck! Shit, Brian, you feel so nice,” Justin exclaimed as soon as he’d sunk in all the way.

Luckily Brian seemed to be too relaxed to reply to that rather inane comment - for which Justin was grateful, since he had expected some cutting and sarcastic reply as soon as the words escaped his lips. He really didn’t want to jinx this moment. It had been a long time since Brian had acceded him this honor and he didn’t want some stupid random comment to cause the touchy stud to change his mind about letting Justin top. In fact, ever since he’d been given the doctor’s postpartum okay, Brian had been pretty adamant that he was the only one going to be topping from there on out. This was actually only the second time Justin had had the privilege since they’d started doing it raw, and he wanted to enjoy himself in case it took another three months - or more - before he got back into Brian’s stingey ass.

The soothing massage seemed to have not only relaxed Brian’s tension away but also relaxed away his ability to hold out against his climax for very long. Justin only got about a dozen good thrusts in before he noticed Brian’s fists grappling in the sheets for a hand hold. The rising waves of pleasure he’d been feeling along the shaft of his own cock had apparently ignited similar sparks inside his lover, who was now squirming under him, his head buried deep in the pillow which almost completely muffled the erotic moans Brian couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck! Fuck, Sunshine. I’m coming. I’m . . . I’m . . . Ahhhhh,” Brian’s jumbled words breathed out of him with a final exhale as his body tensed once more for a heartbeat and then he sank down, completely boneless, back onto the bed.

With a smile at the thought that his plan had worked perfectly, Justin let himself reach his own climax and subsequently collapsed on top of Brian’s back.

“. . . Never had a fucking massage like that, Sunshine . . .” were the last words that Justin heard from his sleeping lover for quite a while after that.

Brian didn't emerge again from the bedroom for several hours. When he finally did make it out of bed - wandering around dressed only in a pair of faded blue jeans and no shirt in spite of the fact that it was December and there was a foot of snow on the ground outside - he found a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him in the kitchen and his two boys sprawled out on the area rug in the seating area of the Greatroom. Justin was lying on his belly on top of a pile of cushions from the couch with his laptop open in front of him. Kevan was lying, also on his belly, next to his Papa, with an assortment of toys spread around him. As Brian walked nearer, Kevan pushed himself up on his slender arms, turned his neck and tracked his Daddy's approach with keen dark blue eyes.

"Good Morning, Boys!" Brian greeted everyone jovially, setting his mug of coffee on the table and collapsing into one of the big, comfy leather couches. "Is lying on the carpet a requirement for today, or am I allowed to sit up on the furniture like a civilized human?"

"All the parenting books say it's important for an infant to spend lots of time on his tummy," Justin announced authoritatively. "It gives the baby a different perspective on the world - which is good for a developing brain - and it helps strengthen his arm and neck muscles."

"This PSA brought to you by . . ." Brian started in to tease his know-it-all boyfriend but he was cut off abruptly when the boy in question jumped up, plopped into Brian's lap and kissed him until he'd forgotten what he'd meant to say.

"Hush, you!" Justin commanded as soon as he came up for air. "No comments from the peanut gallery this early in the day." As he ended with another little kiss and a quick grope to Brian's nether regions, Brian wasn't going to argue, even if he could have remembered why he wanted to.

"So, what's the plan for today, troops," Brian did ask a few minutes later when Justin finally crawled out of his lap, picked up the happily gurgling baby and deposited him on his Daddy's lap.

"No real plans yet," Justin responded. "I need to finish up a project that Ryder's Art Director wants by first thing Monday, but that shouldn't take me long. Oh, and Michael's called three times already this morning - I assume he NEEDS you to go to Woody's with him tonight, or has some other dire emergency that only his Best Friend can help him with since he wouldn't even tell me why he was calling. Other than that, the weekend's pretty clear. You don't have to rush into work or anything do you?"

"I probably should stop into the office this afternoon and see what I missed last week," Brian offered, although he didn't feel very enthusiastic about the idea.

"I'm sure Ryder's won't collapse in financial ruin if you take the weekend off, Brian." Justin commented dryly, scrambling to think of some way he could kept his little workaholic away from the stress of the office for a couple more days at least.

Brian knew that Justin was right - especially after all the additional revenue he'd brought in for Ryder in the last six months with the Calvin Klein account, not to mention the Armani campaign coup - but he still felt guilty about taking the whole past week off. Ryder had been hinting for years that he'd make Brian a full partner in the firm if the ad exec brought in just a bit more business. You'd think that successfully bagging those two major accounts would have been more than enough. But Brian still didn't have that partnership and because of that he still felt like he had something to prove. Hence the nagging thought that he needed to make an appearance at the office on a Saturday after being gone for the week.

The longer he sat on the couch bouncing a snugly, content baby on his knee, though, the less Brian was inclined to worry about work.

Brian was surprised to note how much Kevan seemed to have changed in just the five days he'd been gone. The baby seemed like he'd gained at least a pound or two and grown maybe a whole inch! He also seemed so much more engaged with the world around him. Those bright baby eyes were actively tracking his Papa's movements as the blond trotted back into the room carrying another coffee cup and a platter full of what looked like fresh baked blueberry muffins. Kevan smiled delightedly as Justin passed and tickled him on the cheek. Then he turned his attention back to his Daddy and cooed and blew a big happy spit bubble. It made Brian chuckle. It also made him even more reluctant to bother going in to work.

"Well, I think you should skip work today and just stay here and play with me and Kevan. We need some time with our favorite studly Daddy!" Justin asserted, seating himself back on the floor by his computer.

"I need to at least go through my email," Brian said, but instead of making any move to get up he simply reached out for a muffin and his coffee.

"You can do that from here," Justin suggested through a mouthful of his own muffin. "Did you see that your home office is officially all done? The construction guys just finished putting all the furniture together yesterday. It looks great! I love the color we picked for the walls in there. It's so Brian Kinney-ish!"

"I didn't know there was such a thing as being 'Brian Kinney-ish'," the man himself asked with a teasing grin.

"Of course there is! Just go look in your new office and you'll see exactly what I mean," Justin smiled up at his man and his son relaxing together on the couch. "I put all your mail in there and a package that Cynthia brought out on Thursday. I think it's your copies of the new GQ issue, but I thought I'd leave it for you to unveil."

"Cool. I actually already saw a copy - they had one at the Armani shoot - but I didn't get time to thoroughly enjoy seeing my gorgeous face on another magazine cover," Brian rose to his feet with Kevan still in his arms. "Let's go see the pretty pictures of Daddy. Won't that be fun, Sonny Boy? You like looking at Daddy's pretty puss, don't you? Of course you do. Who wouldn't? . . ."

Justin giggled quietly to himself as he listened to Brian keeping up the running commentary for his son as the two of them walked to the office and back. Daddy Brian was simply too adorable for words. Of course Justin would never actually SAY that to the man's face, but he couldn't help thinking it all the same.

"Here," Brian dropped a copy of the magazine on Justin's back as he walked by, settling himself and Kevan once again on the couch.

The arty black and white picture of Brian that graced the cover of this month's GQ showed a soulful man with big, expressive eyes and just the suggestion of a smile. Brian always looked beautiful, of course, but Justin, who hadn't seen this photo yet, was once again blown away by his partner's seductive beauty. Once again the younger man counted himself overwhelmingly lucky to have met - and somehow captured the interest of - such a godlike being. And when he glanced over at the real thing, sitting on his couch with their equally beautiful baby in his lap, Justin almost felt like crying because he was just so incredibly, unbelievably, lucky to be where he was.

Brian had merely scanned the cover shot and then promptly started in on reading the article inside. From the expressions Justin saw flitting across Brian's face, he thought the big guy was amused by the article. Kevan was busy being amused by grabbing and crinkling up the pages of the magazine in his little fist as his Daddy turned the pages.

Justin decided to let the two of them read in peace. He would read the article himself later when he could actually concentrate on it and be objective. Right now he'd rather get this work project done and out of the way so he would be free to enjoy the rest of the weekend with his family.

The next hour or two was spent with the two men peacefully puttering around the house. Justin worked on, reassured by the homey background noises of his partner and son as they went about their everyday chores and tasks. Brian nursed the baby, who then went down for a nap without further protest, before heading off to his new office to deal with his mail. It all felt so comfortable. It felt like what a family SHOULD do on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian emerged from his new office/lair a little while later with a concerned look on his face and a padded yellow mailing envelope in his hand. “Do you know where this came from? There’s no return address on this.”

Brian walked over to the edge of the carpet where Justin was still lounging as he finished up his work project and squatted down so that he could show the small package to the now curious blond. Justin took the envelope first and noted that the address for Britin’s Chapel had been hand written on the front in bright blue marker. As Brian had said, there was no return address and also, oddly enough, there were no stamps on the envelope either. It must have been hand delivered.

Brian was holding the contents of the package in his other hand. It appeared to be a typical acrylic plastic picture frame - something you could buy at any store - decorated with a cutesy ‘Baby Boy’ caption. Inserted in the frame was what appeared to be a candid picture of Brian and Kevan. From the little he could see of the background, Justin thought the photo had probably been taken at the Liberty Diner. Neither Brian nor Kevan were smiling. It certainly looked liked the picture had been taken when Brian wasn’t aware he was being photographed.

“Sorry, Brian. I have no idea where that came from,” Justin admitted. “It was in the pile of mail that Em usually collects during the week and I just put it in your office with the other stuff yesterday after the construction guys finished in there. I wonder who sent it?”

“No idea . . .” Brian’s voice drifted off in confusion. “There’s no card or anything with it, which is weird. I guess whoever sent it doesn’t want a thank you note.” Brian set the frame down on the coffee table and tossed the empty envelope beside it. “It’s not exactly a great picture, though, and the frame is way too fucking tacky for my office. If you want to keep it, it’s yours, Sunshine.”

Justin had to agree that it wasn’t the best picture ever taken of either Brian or Kevan. He didn’t really want it either. Maybe he could foist it off on one of the grandmothers? Yeah, Deb would probably love something like that.

“Now this,” Brian tossed a second envelope down onto the floor next to Justin, “is worth keeping and probably even framing.”

Justin picked up the second envelope and saw that it was from GQ corporate headquarters in New York. The top of the paper envelope had already been sliced open so it was simple for Justin to pull out the fancy looking sheet of letterhead inside. The letter itself looked very official and had lots of exclamation points and such all over, so Justin assumed it was important news and probably what had put that sexy looking smirk on Brian’s face.

“Congratulations! You have been selected by the editors of Gentleman’s Quarterly Magazine as one of the 25 Most Stylish Men of the Year! . . .” Justin read the announcement aloud. “Shit, Brian! This is AMAZING! I always knew you were one of the biggest label queens in the history of the world, but this makes it official!” Justin couldn’t stop himself from teasing.

“Fuck you, Sunshine,” Brian snatched back his letter and playfully kicked at the boy’s leg as he waved it gloatingly in front of Justin’s face. “It says here that I’m ‘Stylish’ - not just a fucking label queen. See, wearing clothing that looks like it WASN’T purchased at Goodwill does have its merits - although you wouldn’t know about that, now would you, ‘Mr. Gap’?”

“I’m just kidding, Brian,” Justin conceded as he joined Brian on the couch. “I’m proud of you. Really. This is pretty cool.”

“Of course it is. But now I HAVE to go to this big blowout party in New York on New Year’s Eve and all,” Brian continued as he read more of the letter. “Hmmm, do you know any cute little Twinks who might want to be seen with me at such an affair . . . seeing as I’m such a big ‘Label Queen’ as you put it.”

“If I abase myself at your feet and apologise abjectly for my unthinking slur on your fashion acumen . . . maybe you could forgive me and take me to the party?” Justin proposed, prepared to do whatever sucking up it took to get back into the hot stud’s good books.

“I don’t know . . .” Brian pretended to think about it very seriously. “I guess, if you agreed to throw in, say, FIFTY blowjobs, I might forgive you.”

“Fifty? Well, I’d better get started then,” Justin easily conceded, not all that upset at the prospect of spending even more time than usual with Brian’s pretty dick. “Let me just get this zipper and I’ll get started right away, Sir.”

Brian actually giggled at the silly, lustful look Justin got on his face as the youth slid off the edge of the couch and started immediately grappling with the fly of Brian’s jeans. However, he wasn’t giggling for long. As soon as Justin wrapped his perfectly formed pink lips around his already hard cock, Brian forgot how to giggle. In fact, all he COULD remember how to do for the next who-knew-how-many-minutes was moan and writhe and thrash his head about.

“Fuuuuuuucccckkkkkk!” Brian groaned when he finally did shoot his load right after Justin did that thing with his tongue that Brian ALWAYS found impossible to resist.

“From what we could see, it looks like you just did that,” said a voice that shouldn’t have been in Brian’s home watching him get a blow job on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Brian cracked open one eye and unhappily noted the three unwelcome visitors standing in his living room watching as Justin hastily tucked Brian back into his jeans and zipped him back up. “Last I looked, this was a PRIVATE residence - not the back room at Babylon! What the FUCK are you three stooges doing here, without, I might point out, an invitation?”

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Emmett rushed to head off Brian’s anger with an explanation. “We’re really sorry to interrupt. We didn’t really think you’d be here, you know. And well, see, I left my bag here yesterday,” Em rushed across the room and picked up the bag in question from the table next to the front door as a visual aid, “and since the guys and I are heading over to Woody’s for the monthly Tea Dance, I needed to get the new shirt I bought when I was out walking with Kevan yesterday morning, which I, of course, left in my bag, and you know I don’t have a car myself so Teddy kindly offered to drive and then Michael said he wanted to come too because he’d been trying to call you all morning but hadn’t heard back from you if you wanted to join us, so I thought what the hell we could all just come over here together, and I just naturally used my key without thinking that you two would be otherwise involved, because, well, I just wasn’t really thinking, and now, of course, I realize we should have called first or at the very least come around the front and rung the bell and not just barged in here like a herd of wild home invaders, but I guess hindsight is 20/20 and all that and . . . Did I say I was sorry?”

“Fuck, Honeycutt! Could you please stop and take a breath sometime. And maybe use some type of punctuation in your sentences when you speak so normal humans can understand what you’re trying to say,” Brian interrupted before Em could waste another five minutes of his life on further explanations and apologies.

“Don’t call me Honeycutt,” Emmett intoned his usual admonishment.

“Hey Brian,” Mikey broke into the conversation, slouching down onto the end of the couch next to Brian’s feet without waiting for an invitation and seemingly without caring about the scene he’d just interrupted, Em’s attempts to apologize, Justin’s embarrassment or Brian’s budding anger at their uninvited presence in his home. “Why didn’t you call me back? I’ve been trying to reach you all morning. Boy Wonder said he’d tell you I called - he did tell you didn’t he?”

“Fuck you, Michael! Of course I told him you called,” Justin spat at the rude interloper as he stood up from where he was kneeling next to the couch and very obviously adjusted his sweat pants so the tenting at the front wasn’t quite as bad. “I also told YOU that I was turning off Brian’s phone, that he needed to sleep because he just got in last night and was exhausted and that you SHOULDN’T come by and bug him!”

Michael shrugged off Justin’s complaints without even looking in the youth’s direction. Instead he focused solely on Brian, who just squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. Brian thought it might be a good idea to remind Justin that trying to teach Mikey any manners was pretty much useless. Justin probably already knew that though, Brian figured, since the young blond had stomped off out of the room when he realized he was being totally ignored.

“So, Brian, do you want to come with us to Woody’s? It’s been ages since you hung out with the guys, and we’re all dying to hear about Palm Springs. I bet the guys there were amazing. Are all those California boys just as gorgeous as they look on TV? Did you fuck any famous actors? You HAVE to come out with us and tell us everything. I haven’t heard a good tricking story in ages - I mean, sorry, Em, but Brian’s stories just leave yours in the dust . . .”

Brian looked over to where Emmett and Ted were standing next to the kitchen bar. Em looked apologetic. Ted looked embarrassed by Michael’s verbal diarrhea. Neither made eye contact with Brian. Of course, neither of them tried to shut Michael up either.

“Mikey, I just got home last night and I really wasn’t planning on going out . . .” Brian tried to reason with his old friend - which was so clearly a mistake.

“C’mon, Brian! It’s Saturday! Don’t tell me that Brian Fucking Kinney is going to stay home on a Saturday night? That’s just NOT possible. You’re not pregnant anymore and there’s nothing to do around here,” Michael waved his hand around indicating he meant the entirety of Britin’s Chapel. “I mean, really, when was the the last time you got out of here and took a break from playing Daddy? What you need is to come to the bar with your friends, have a few drinks, play some pool, maybe go dancing and get sucked off by a half-dozen gorgeous guys in the back room. I know you’re probably bushed after a long week of travelling, but trust me, a night out will relax you. Besides, you need this. If you don’t watch out you’re gonna end up being permanently domesticated - one of those hetero-wanna-be’s you’re always making fun of.”

Brian was all ready to tell Mikey to just fuck off until that last sentence of his old friend’s lecture sank in. Unfortunately, right as Michael reached that part of his pontification, Justin reappeared around the corner of the kitchen with Kevan in his arms looking all settled and domestic and . . . scary as shit. Did Brian really want to turn into some pathetic house-husband? Was he really, actually, contemplating staying in on a Saturday night with no plans except to sit around and play house? What the fuck was happening to him? This was NOT the Brian Kinney he thought he knew.

“Yeah, you’re right, Mikey. I guess I could use a night out after all. Give me five minutes to get dressed, okay?” Brian heard himself saying as he rose from the sofa and headed off to the bedroom to dig out his old clubbing clothes.

Brian tried not to think about why, exactly, he avoided meeting Justin’s eyes as he walked past him and Kevan on his way down the hall.