Chapter 8 - Things Suck (And NOT In a Positive, Life-affirming Way).

He could hear the loud raucous laughing noises the red one made long before her kind and soft face came into focus before his eyes. Kevan had come to really look forward to the times when the red one would come visit. She was very loud - which did tend to startle him sometimes - but he was getting more and more used to her and better at not crying every single time her booming voice scared him a little bit.

After you got over the red one's loud and dramatic entrances though, she was great. Kevan always felt calmer when the red one was there. She had this way about her: self-confident without being too uncaring. Sometimes the red one would come into the room when his yellow person thing was being exceptionally clingy and it felt like the entire atmosphere of the world just automatically relaxed. So, as far as Kevan was concerned, the red one was welcome even with her too-loud, too-exuberant noisy greetings.

Today, the red one had shooed out both the yellow person and the dark good-smelling one - they had both started to get on Kevan's nerves about an hour after his last nap. He loved his special people things but that didn't mean that he didn't sometimes need a break from them. Then Red had put the soft green blanket down on the floor in the big room, laid him down on his tummy and left some colorful, strange shaped things just in front of his face.

Well, this was new!

Kevan wasn't used to lying on his tummy much. Usually his people things put him down on his back. Lying on your back was good because it left you free to shake your arms and kick your feet up into the air. Lying as he was now, on his belly, felt quite different. He couldn't kick or wave his arms.

But, with a bit of effort, Kevan discovered that while lying in this position he could turn his head and lift it up a bit. When he did that, Kevan could focus on the bright colorful things lying in front of him. He could also see the surface he was lying on - which was new to him.

Wow! This new perspective on his world was AMAZING! He wasn't looking up at the ceiling and everything above him for once. He could see stuff below him. What a freaking trip! This was soooooooo cool!

Holding your head up was pretty tiring though. Kevan's thin little neck could only accomplish the feat for a minute or two at a time. Then his face would plummet back down onto the soft green blanket and all he'd see was green fuzz.

Green fuzz wasn't nearly as interesting though as those red, yellow and blue things that were just beyond his head. Kevan was super motivated to look up at them rather than down at the green fuzz. As soon as he could remember how to work the muscles to make his head come up again, he did so, and happily looked at the colorful things.

Kevan did this interesting thing - his gaze moving from green fuzz to colorful toys - several times before his baby neck muscles were just too tired. It had been quite the workout for the little one. He was even a bit sweaty from all the exercise. But the new position, the new perspective on his world, the bright new objects and even the new physical sensation of moving his head and neck in new ways was exactly what his hungry infant brain needed to stimulate new synaptic pathways. In the end Kevan was exhausted but infinitesimally smarter than he'd been just an hour before.

'Blah blah, Kevan! Yes! Blah blah! Gramma blah blah blah Kevan. Blah. Blah blah blah. Gramma's blah blah Kevan.'

Kevan smiled and gurgled up at the red one who had picked him up after he finally tired of the new head lifting game. Red was smiling back at him and making her usual silly noises. She would even scrunch up her face, wink at him and grin. Kevan had absolutely no idea why she was being so idiotic. But Red was nice, nonetheless.

He was feeling very accomplished and quite proud of himself this afternoon. With a contented sigh, Kevan reached up one little hand and managed a fairly well controlled pat on Red's soft round cheek. Then, blowing a couple of expert spit bubbles, he closed his eyes and drifted off for his late afternoon nap.

Justin was trying not to be an over-protective, over-reactive and overbearing father. Really! He WAS trying, but he often failed. It was just so damned hard to hear Kevan crying - to KNOW his little boy wasn't perfectly happy - and not immediately run to him.

Sometimes, like now, when Kevan was crying away inconsolably, alone in his nursery, it literally hurt Justin's heart to hear him.

The colic had gotten a little better in the past week or so since the family had forcibly  intervened. Their advice had proven, for the most part, to be fruitful. Once they'd stopped over-reacting to Kevan's every little whimper, the baby seemed to learn pretty quickly to calm himself. That led to calmer parents and a general increase of calmness everywhere. It was pretty much a miracle.

So Kevan was no longer screaming away the entire night. But he still had a bad hour or two most evenings - usually coinciding almost precisely with Brian's arrival home from work and Justin's dinner preparations. Which meant that tonight, like every other night this week, Justin was distracted, stressed out and already on-edge when Brian finally made it back to Britin's Chapel after a particularly long day.

Earlier that afternoon Debbie had come over and kicked both Brian and Justin out with explicit directions that they take a little parenting break. Since it was a Saturday, neither man had any plans. However, Justin really did need to use the time to run by the library and catch up on a little studying. Brian, meanwhile, decided to hit the gym - he was still desperately trying to shed the last of his baby weight. They were also in dire need of a little non-couply time. So, the two had gladly taken Gramma Debbie up on her offer and practically fled the scene.

By the time Justin had returned home, though, Kevan was already well into his evening colic episode, so any relaxation Justin had experienced by getting out of the house for the day was pretty much shot to hell as soon as he walked in the door and heard that plaintive wailing. Debbie would have gladly stayed and intervened if only she didn’t have the dinner shift at the Diner that evening. So, Justin tried to man up and deal with the depressing prospect of another evening of those nerve wracking, inconsolable cries from his poor little baby.

Justin didn’t know what to do with himself during these periods when Kevan was colicky. He couldn’t really think well enough to study - which is why he’d needed to visit the library today. It was too noisy to watch TV and he didn’t want to listen to music because he’d have to turn it up so loud that he would worry about not being able to hear the baby if he really was needed. He had tried to do a little sketching but was too distracted by the noise.  All his sketches ended up looking like Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’.

Finally giving in and admitting his own wimpiness, Justin caved. Running off to the nursery, he’d scooped a sobbing Kevan out of his crib into his arms. He just couldn’t bear to hear him crying like that. It felt so wrong to just leave his son alone to cry it out. If Kevan was going to be sad, he simply had to be there with him even if all the advice he’d been given told him there was nothing he could do about his child’s tears. Justin didn’t care. He HAD to try and comfort the baby.

As expected though, there was nothing that Papa Justin could do for little Kevan. After cuddling the baby, talking and holding him while he paced, even Justin had to concede that there was no hope. He pulled out the expensive new designer Baby Bjorn Bouncer Seat that Brian had bought the week before, propped it up on the kitchen counter and strapped Kevan into the harness. Then, with an occasional bounce to the baby, Justin focused his attention on starting dinner preparations while trying to ignore the ongoing colicky screeches.

Right when Kevan’s crying had reached that particularly ear-splitting frequency that made the prospect of listening to fingernails scraping against a chalkboard seem preferable, Brian walked into the kitchen. One look at his partner’s tense stance and Justin could tell that Brian hadn’t had a particularly relaxing afternoon either. It didn’t help much that Kevan belted out an extra-vociferous shriek just as his Daddy appeared. Justin would have laughed at the way Brian’s entire face scrunched up in pain at the noise, if he hadn’t felt just the same.

“Hey, Sonnyboy!” Brian greeted his caterwauling offspring with as much good will as he could muster. “I see you’ve started into your usual evening serenade already. Good to hear that your lungs are working just fine. But, how about you take a break for a minute or two, huh?” Brian picked up the binky that Justin had been trying to get the baby to accept earlier which had fallen to the countertop when he’d given up on that idea. “Why don’t you try sucking on this hilariously funny pacifier your Auntie Em got you? Come on, Kev! It’s really totally tacky, just like Emmett. You don’t want to be rude now and force me to tell him you don’t like his present, do you? Come on. Take the binky. Come on, Kevan. Just suck it . . .”

“Bet you’ve never before had to beg so hard to get a boy to suck something of yours,” Justin couldn’t help joking.

“Ha ha! Very witty, Sunshine. As you well know, though, the boys are usually the ones begging me to let them do a little sucking,” Brian retorted while continuing his efforts to get the baby to latch onto the pacifier. “I just wish the ‘volume dial’ on this thing actually worked. Then maybe I’d let you do a little sucking too.” Brian looked with longing at the nonfunctioning ‘Volume Dial’ that was imprinted on the front of the novelty binky that Em had given them earlier in the week.

Finally, with a lot more patience than anyone knew Brian Kinney had, the determined Daddy convinced his Sonnyboy to accept the pacifier. Once the baby was sucking away on the little plastic device, a blessed silence descended in the kitchen and both men literally sighed in relief. Brian turned away from the baby’s perch in the bouncer on the counter and wrapped his long, strong arms around Justin’s slighter frame. The two men clung to each other as if they’d just escaped from some dire fate. The balm of quiet started almost instantly to work on their tensed up bodies as each man allowed his taut, overstrung muscles to relax. What was it with a baby’s cries - the pitch must be at just the perfect frequency to cause it’s parents the utmost stress possible. When the momentary calm did come, the relief was immediately physically apparent.

“Hey,” Brian whispered into the silence, his lips following up the word with a soft little kiss deposited on Justin’s temple.

“Hey, yourself,” the stressed out blond replied, wrapping his arms around his taller partner’s waist and giving a grateful little squeeze.

“Now, as I was saying before, I’ve got something for you to suck on too, Little Boy,” Brian offered with a typical Kinney smirk, gently unwinding his blond boy’s arms from around his middle and pushing the man’s shoulders downward toward the big boy’s favorite pacifier.

“Yummy,” Justin enthusiastically replied, sinuously trailing down the bigger man’s body as he sank to his knees with happy expectations.

The long, adept artist’s fingers deftly unbuttoned the top button on Brian’s jeans. The mere anticipation of what was going to occur was enough to cause all the blood in the brunet’s body to redirect to his groin. When he felt the moist heat of Justin’s breath seeping through the material of his fly, he groaned with impatience.

Brian really needed this release after the crappy day - make that crappy week - he’d had. As if dealing with a colicky infant at home wasn’t enough, he’d been constantly frustrated all week long at work as well. There had been several delays with the CK Athletic Wear campaign he’d been trying to finalize - not the least of which was that Drew Boyd’s schedule was virtually impossible in the fall because of the various away games, training sessions and all the other obligations requisite to being the quarterback of a major football team. It hadn’t helped matters much that the in-house advertising team at Calvin Klein had changed their minds three times about the layouts and ended up wanting to go a completely different direction AFTER the initial campaign photo shoot. Because of their wishy-washy attitudes, Brian had been forced to cut his gym workout this afternoon short so that he could rush to the office and deal with yet another crisis.

He’d really been looking forward to a nice long workout, too. In spite of all his efforts to diet and bump up his exercise schedule, Brian was still struggling to lose all the baby weight from his pregnancy and it was driving him crazy. He’d taken to skipping lunch, and sometimes breakfast too, and replacing them with the diet bars Ben had recommended, but it just didn’t seem to help. And, because of his heavier than usual work schedule as well as all these sometimes tedious family obligations that came along with being a new parent, he hadn’t been able to get to the gym nearly as often as he wanted to.

Don’t get him wrong - Brian loved his son and most of the time he enjoyed spending time with the baby and his baby’s other daddy, but it was a BIG adjustment to the way he’d lived his life before. Sometimes the former devil-may-care Stud missed his freedom and carefree life so much. Shit, he would give almost anything for just one responsibility-free day . . .

But then, as soon as he caught himself thinking such things, he’d immediately feel intensely guilty about such reckless daydreams. He was a father now. He had silently promised both himself and his Sonnyboy that he would be the best father he could for his dear little boy. Brian would NEVER let himself turn into the kind of father he’d had to endure as a child. He loved Kevan so much and wanted his little boy to have everything he’d never had. So, when he caught himself wishing he could run away, even if it was just for a day or so, he always felt incredibly ashamed and scared that he could turn into someone like Jack Kinney. The pressure of trying to be the perfect daddy, though, sometimes made it even harder to get through his days.

Which brought his thoughts back to exactly why he really NEEDED a fucking blowjob right this instant. While his mind had been wandering, Justin had managed to get Brian’s jeans completely undone and the material was now drooping around his knees along with his undershorts. The first touch of the blond boy’s happy little pink tongue against the heated skin of his prick jolted Brian out of his rut of unhappy thoughts with alacrity. Brian moaned his approval. Justin smiled up at him with a sexy, mischievous little giggle and grabbed hold of his engorged cock with one hand while massaging the long muscles of his thigh with the other. When that perfect pink tongue lapped another stripe up the length of his cock, Brian finally felt the remaining tension of the day start to evaporate away. Yes! This was exactly what he needed.

Justin applied his expert cock sucking skills to the job in front of him with happy abandon. Within moments, he was alternating between long wet swipes of his tongue along the length of Brian’s turgid shaft and wet, sucking kisses to the crown of the head in order to taste the bubbling pre-cum that was tempting him. Brian was torn between the pleasure he got from the light almost teasing treatment he was receiving and his desire to just shove his dick between those plump coral pink lips all the way down the boy’s throat until his balls were knocking against the youth’s chin. He fucking wanted it all right now but he also didn’t want it to ever end. It was so pleasant to be tortured with such conflicting drives.

Luckily for Brian, Justin solved the man’s dilemma right then by moving on to the main event. With a happy gurgle from deep in his throat, Justin hoovered in the entirety of Brian’s needy cock, sucking away with vigor. Brian murmured his approval with inarticulate little whimpers of pleasure. Looking down on the image of his blond boy on his knees with a fat cock thrusting between his spit-glossed lips, Brian thoroughly approved of the sight. The perfect view - he always wanted it to be that way with his sweet little blond lover - added to the feelings engendered by the perfectly delicious sensations to double the building thrill. Shit, he’d really, really needed this . . .

*Pop*

*WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!*

Brian’s euphia was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the binky popping wetly out of little Kevan’s mouth followed by a god-awful wailing noise perfectly pitched to almost instantly deflate his hard on. Justin whimpered and his body sagged against Brian’s knees. Kevan’s now completely deflated daddy sagged himself back against the kitchen counter. He felt like crying now too. It just wasn’t FAIR! How could the little brat’s timing be any worse? Brian couldn’t control the animosity he was feeling at that exact moment towards his leaky and vexatious offspring, nor could he avoid the sudden guilt he felt as soon as he acknowledged that sentiment.

“Fuck!” Brian yelled, disgusted with not only the situation but also with himself. With a burst of violent anger that was atypical, he turned and swept his arm across the counter, knocking several bowls and a cutting board of veggies Justin had been working on earlier onto the floor. Then the usually controlled man slammed his fist into the nearest cupboard door, cracking the thin veneer and plywood and leaving an impression of his fist in the splintered remains. Justin, still kneeling at his feet, was frozen in place, unable to comprehend this severe mood swing in his admittedly volatile but usually pacific partner.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, fucking shit!” Brian complained as he cradled his hand, now smashed and bleeding from all the wood splinters, against his stomach.

Predictably, Brian’s yelling startled Kevan and led to the baby crying even louder. Justin didn’t know who to comfort first. In the end, he was prompted by the dripping blood splattering against the tile where he was kneeling to grab a kitchen towel and attend to Brian’s wounds first. The baby was safe and not harmed and would be just fine crying away in his bouncer seat for a few more minutes. Brian on the other hand was flailing around and causing more blood to fly through the air creating an even greater mess.

“Brian! HOLD STILL!” Justin ordered, his demand finally getting through to the injured man who paused in his pain-fueled tantrum. With the towel he’d grabbed, Justin wrapped up the bloody, pulpy mess of Brian’s hand, stopping the dripping blood. “Keep pressure on it here,” Justin directed shortly before he sprinted down the hall to the bathroom, grabbed the first aid kit and then ran back to the kitchen. “All right, let’s look at the damage,” Justin said as he moved them both to the sink where he started to unwrap the towel. “Ouch! You really did a fucking number on your knuckles, Brian,” Justin turned on the tap and ran cold water over the site of the injury as he carefully removed several small fragments of wood. “Hold still, please. I know it hurts, but I can’t get these splinters out if you’re jiggling around . . . there, I think that’s all of it. Now, just let me dry it off and I’ll put some analgesic ointment on there to dull the pain before I bandage it.”

Justin worked efficiently with the bandages. It took less than five minutes before Brian’s hand was well wrapped up. To help with the pain, he also filled up a plastic baggie with ice from the freezer and directed Brian to keep that on the injured area. Brian bore with the attentions until his hand was completely wrapped up, but Justin could tell that he was still fuming angrily just under the surface.

As soon as possible, Brian jerked his hand back, away from Justin’s grip. Justin stepped back, startled once again by Brian’s furious action. Unfortunately, the retreating blond accidentally stepped on one of the small metal bowls that Brian had tossed onto the floor, which slipped out from under his foot, clattering noisily against the stainless steel front of the built-in dishwasher. The additional racket seemed to elevate Brian’s fury even more. The big brunet proceeded to kick the offending bowl as hard as he could, causing it to sail out through the kitchen doorway and crash against the wall of the hallway. The noise level escalated even more when Kevan, sensing the distress radiating from his parents, let loose with another pitiful wail.

“Damn it to fucking hell! Can’t you keep the brat from screaming all the fucking time? I can’t take it anymore! All the fucking noise is driving me nuts! I’m fucking out of here,” Brian screeched at the top of his lungs, evidencing exactly where his son got his prodigious noise making abilities from, before stomping off to the back door and slamming it behind him.

“Okay . . . Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Justin declared, stymied by Brian’s outburst. He started to pick up the mess on the kitchen floor and added, “I think maybe we’ll just order a pizza for dinner tonight. What do you say to that, Kevan? Yeah, I’m definitely NOT in the mood to cook after all that.”

Meanwhile, about five miles away, Brian Kinney pulled off the highway onto a mostly deserted side street, let the car coast over to the shoulder and finally turned off the ignition. The coursing fury that had been rushing through his body had finally dissipated. In it’s wake he was left feeling empty, confused and drained. Overwhelmed, he let his head drop onto the steering wheel in front of him while he let himself totally fall apart.

‘What the HELL was that back there?’ he wondered. ‘Who the fuck was that man. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t like THAT. Never!’

Brian’s nerves were completely frazzled. He didn’t know what the hell had just happened back at the house or how he’d managed to get so out of control. His emotions were all over the place lately. He felt like he was losing it. This just wasn’t like him. He never acted like such a fucking caveman! He was embarrassed and so angry at himself for letting things get so completely out of control. He was also scared out of his fucking mind by his own acts of violence. He wondered again if somehow he was turning into his fucked up father.

‘How could he have acted like that in front of his son and Justin? How could he have yelled like that and called his son a brat? How could he punch the cabinet like that - like some madman - like his father on one of the man’s worst drunken sprees?’

“Shit! Fucking SHIT!” Brian screamed at himself, angrier now at himself than he’d ever been before.

Without even thinking about it, Brian slammed both his fists against the unyielding steel of the steering wheel over and over again until the pain broke through his anger and turned his angry cries to sobs. The sound of his own sobbing merely exacerbated his emotional upheaval and increased the outpouring of tears. And, before he knew what was happening, Brian found that he was crying harder and with more desperation than he had since he was a child.