Chapter 29 - Heading Home.
The Papa was evil!
That was Kevan’s conclusion after spending hours and days and months trying to reach his Uglyworm friend while The Papa waved it around just beyond his reach. Of course, Kevan didn’t really understand the concept of the term ‘evil’, but he did understand that The Papa was doing this to him intentionally and seemed to enjoy seeing him struggle to reach the toy. That, in Kevan’s book, was evil.
“Come on, Kevan. Blah, blah, blah. Blah, Kevan! Come on! . . .” The Papa kept saying these new mouth sounds over and over.
Kevan didn’t know what ‘Come on’ meant but figured it probably equated to something along the lines of ‘I’m holding Uglyworm hostage and you’ll never get him, Bwahahaha!’
Oh, and it didn’t help matters much that The Silly One was standing off to the side with a shiny silver box thing held up to his face, joining in with the maniacal laughter of The Papa.
Kevan played along with the sadistic game for a while, writhing and wriggling his body, rocking back and forth ineffectually, trying to reach out with his hands to Uglyworm, but getting only a fistful of nothing as The Papa would pull the toy away at the last minute. Kevan was determined though. He was just naturally a very stubborn little boy - he got that character trait from BOTH of his fathers - and was not going to give up. He just kept twisting his body and trying out different combinations of reaching and wiggling with his arms and legs. He had a feeling that if he could only figure out the right combination, he could get to Uglyworm. He felt it in his baby bones. He just had to figure out how to do it.
And then, all of a sudden, Kevan moved his right leg up so that his knee was against the fluffy white area rug at the exact same time that he also pushed up with both his arms. This left the little boy suspended a couple of inches off the ground in a manner that he’d never experienced before. It shocked him just enough that he started to lose his balance and his left arm buckled a little. But he still had his eyes on his Uglyworm friend and so he just pushed a little harder with the arm that was still supporting him.
Which is when the entire world titled strangely and the fluffy white carpet fell away from his arm as the universe toppled backwards leaving him sitting on his diaper-padded bottom with his right leg propping him up and his body sitting bolt upright.
“GAH!” Kevan announced proudly, once the world stopped moving about in such a strange manner and he found himself still sitting up and looking about him from this relatively new perspective.
The Papa and The Silly One were both making very loud mouth sounds that sounded a lot like Kevan’s ‘Gah!’. The Silly One was even dancing around with his silver box thing. The Papa was making that face where he stretched his lips out very widely and showed his many big white teeth to Kevan. It seemed that making the world tilt over until he was sitting up was a very impressive trick and his big people things were as amazed as Kevan was that he’d managed such tremendous magic all on his own.
Unfortunately, he still didn’t have his Uglyworm friend in his hand . . .
Watching Hunkalicious walking away made Brian want to throw up even more than he already had. So he did. And for at least the ten minutes or so that he was puking, he was happy that he didn’t have to think about what a huge, horrible, gut-wrenching mistake he’d made.
Once that was over, though, Brian had no other excuse for crouching there naked on the beach. Since the rest of the resort seemed to be waking up, Brian thought it wise to remove himself from the scene. It took a few minutes, but eventually he hauled himself to his feet and stumbled back to his room where he could continue to puke more comfortably in the privacy of his own bathroom. After a while, once there was nothing left in his stomach, he managed to get himself into the shower, and from there into bed. Of course, as soon as he was no longer occupied with puking or cleaning himself up, there was nothing to stop the negative thoughts that kept spiralling through his brain.
“Fuck!” Brian yelled, flipped over so that he was lying on his other side and tried again to turn his brain off. That never works though, so he returned to mumbling curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so fucking fucked . . . What the fuck was I thinking? Strike that - I obviously WASN’T thinking. Shit!”
As if his mood hadn’t been bad enough to start with, each pang of the throbbing headache dragged him even lower. It was as if the pulsing ache in his skull grew in inverse proportion to his sinking spirits. He wasn’t sure which would happen first - his brains exploding out through his ears or his depression getting so overwhelming that he suffocated from it.
Brian hated being hungover, and it had been such a long time since he’d had to deal with one that this time felt even worse than any he’d remembered from the past. Okay, so he knew he really shouldn’t have been drinking as heavily as he had. The days of Brian tying one on nightly and then just bouncing back without effort the next morning were long gone. He hadn’t been drinking much at all for more than a year now - he’d given it up altogether during his pregnancy and even afterward he’d barely allowed himself a beer or two most of the time - so he should have known that he wouldn’t be able to handle his liquor. But then he’d gone and tried to drown out the fact that he was missing Justin and Kevan. Add in that he felt guilty for having left them the way he had and that he hated not being there to protect them from this stalker guy, and it was a recipe for disaster. He supposed that it was understandable that he’d gone and gotten completely shit-faced.
Not that any of that excused his actions, of course. Especially not the appalling fact that he’d not only allowed some stranger to fuck him, but he’d done it raw. Shit! How could HE of all people let that happen? He was the most obsessive person he knew when it came to being safe and making sure he ALWAYS used condoms. Even when he’d been three sheets to the wind, he’d always managed to remember to use a rubber. Up until now, that is. What the hell had he been thinking? He told himself that it was absolutely no excuse that he didn’t carry condoms with him regularly anymore - not after he and Justin had been exclusive for so long. If he was going out, he should have had at least one on him, no matter what. In the past that would have just been habitual. He couldn’t believe he’d let himself get so fucking careless. If it was physically possible to kick himself, he would be doing it right now and kicking so hard that he’d fall over in a black and blue heap. Now he’d have to go get tested and probably need to take some kind of prophylactic meds just in case. Unfortunately, he was in Mexico and didn’t have any clue where to go to get medical attention. What a fucking nightmare.
After trying to wrap his head around that set of issues for longer than he cared to, Brian thought of something even more disagreeable - as soon as he got home, he’d also have to tell Justin . . .
*Arrrggghhhhh* Brian groaned and rolled out of bed again. He couldn’t just lie there anymore. There was nothing he could do about any of this shit right that minute, and lying there stewing about it wasn’t going to help at all. He had to get up and go do something to distract himself from thinking.
He pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt and quickly made his way to the resort’s main dining room where they were still serving breakfast. His roiling stomach wasn’t really in the mood for food, but he forced himself to choke down some toast so that the copious amounts of coffee he was drinking would have something to keep them company. However his scowling demeanor kept away any company so he was still left alone with his thoughts. He cut short his breakfast as soon as he could wave down a waiter and sign the room check.
Instead of heading back to his room, though, Brian made his way into the lobby where the resort had a couple of computers set up for the convenience of their guests. Brian figured that he could distract himself for at least a little while by going through his email and maybe doing some of the work that was no doubt piling up back at VanGuard for him. Since it was still so early, he pretty much had the whole lobby to himself. He picked the first computer and logged on.
The very first email he opened, however, was so discouraging that he almost gave up then and there. It was a quick notice from Armani’s head of marketing advising that, because of the illness that most of the photoshoot crew was experiencing, the on location shoot would be extended for at least another week, possibly more. Brian groaned but since there was nothing he could really do about it he simply forwarded the email on to Cynthia and then deleted it.
The next few messages were from work, which did help to keep his mind busy for the short time it took him to deal with the issues they raised. Next, though, came a message from Justin. Brian hesitated to even open it. The overwhelming guilt he felt was like a tangible weight on his shoulders and he didn’t think he could deal with either that or anything else related to his messed up life. But when he noted that there was an attachment along with the email, he couldn’t help himself and clicked on the item to open it.
‘Hey, Brian,’ the brief message began. ‘Hope you’re having a good time down in Cancun. We miss you. A lot. Especially your son, who has been giving us all a very hard time about the abrupt switch to formula. I think he misses you and the time you would spend with him more than anything though. He’s especially difficult in the evenings when normally you would have been there to hold him and talk with him. Please hurry home so we can all be reassured by your presence once again. Whatever was wrong - whatever made you think that you couldn’t be here - we can work through it. I know we can. I won’t give up on you, Mr. Kinney. And you know that I mean it when I say that because I’m still that same tenacious little twat that will follow you around to the ends of the earth until I wear you down and make you realize that we love you and need you here with us.’ Even in his morose mood, that statement made Brian smile a little because it was so very true. ‘As extra encouragement to make you hurry your beautiful butt home, I’m sending you a video showing you what you’re missing back here. Hurry home! Love, Justin.’
Brian wasted no time opening the video link. The image that popped up on the screen was that of Kevan lying on his tummy on the area rug in the Greatroom. While the camera was focused on the baby, you could still see Justin’s shoulder in the forefront of the video, with Kevan’s favorite toy - the big green blob of Uglyworm - in his hand. Kevan was wriggling and reaching out to try and grasp the stuffed toy, which Justin was shaking in a tantalizing way just out of the infant’s grasp. Brian chuckled as he watched baby’s struggles to try and reach his toy. First he’d raise up his well padded bottom with one leg underneath but he didn’t seem to know what to do next. Then the butt would fall down and he’d reach out with one or both hands. Then the butt would go up again. Finally, after a lengthy struggle, Kevan got both his butt up and his hands under his body pushing up at the same time, but then didn’t seem to know what to do next. Finally, with a wobbly push that appeared to be accident more than anything, the little boy pushed up with his arms just as he moved his leg out of the way and slowly teetered backwards until he was sitting up. The huge smile the baby directed at the camera when he was at last upright was pure sunshine and made Brian’s heart do an almost painful flip flop inside his chest. Brian quickly clicked on the icon to replay the video, repeating it over and over again, and smiling at it every time.
“Cute baby. Is that the miracle kid everybody’s talking about?” Brian’s fourth re-watch of the video was interrupted by a comment thrown over his shoulder as an unwelcome face peered down at the computer screen. “The thought of kids generally makes me want to run and hide, but I gotta say that one seems pretty adorable. You’re a lucky guy, Kinney.”
Brian turned around and gave Hunkalicious a true smile - the first one he’d felt come over his face since he’d arrived in Cancun. “Yeah, I guess I am. Although, I’ve probably screwed that up for good after last night,” Brian responded, the smile melting away into a frown. “I have no idea how the fuck I’m going to even tell Justin, let alone get him to forgive me. I mean, I was already in trouble before because of the way I left . . . Sunshine did say that he missed me and wanted me home, though. He’s really too good for me. I don’t deserve them,” Brian sighed and turned back to the video, hitting play one more time.
“Sunshine? Is that this guy?” ‘Licious reached over Brian’s shoulder and pointed to the partial picture of Justin in the video. “So THAT’S what you kept calling me last night! I didn’t know what the fuck you were saying at first, but you just kept going on and on about your ‘Sunshine’ and how good it always was with him. Now I get it.” ‘Licious huffed a little half-laugh as the video showed Justin smiling down at the wriggling baby. “Well, if it does any good, I think it’s safe to say that you were so out of it that you thought I was him. Maybe he’ll cut you some slack for that?”
“Yeah, not likely . . . but, I guess it’s worth mentioning,” Brian shook his head but didn’t take his eyes off the computer screen until he saw Kevan finally sitting up again. “Shit! What the fuck am I doing down here? I don’t give a fuck about any of this shit. I should be there. I should have been there to see this.”
Maybe it was just the hangover talking, but Brian felt decidedly homesick. He missed Kevan so bad it actually hurt. He was also pissed off that he’d been away and missed out on a huge fucking milestone like his son sitting up on his own. He didn’t want to be the kind of parent that was so caught up in his own drama that he ignored his kids - that was too close to what Brian’s own parents had been like. This stupid modelling thing wasn’t worth the hassle and it definitely wasn’t worth missing out on his son’s big moments. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to have to resort to the likes of ‘Licious and a drunken, mindless fuck just because he missed his family. He wanted to be home. He was also thinking that if he were home he’d know exactly where to go to get tested and get follow up care after his little slip up with ‘Licious. Not to mention that he’d be there to protect his family in case this Tag-guy stepped up his obsession another notch. So, then, why the hell was he still sitting here?
“You know what? Fuck it! I’m out of here!” Brian decided in a flash and immediately jumped up out of the computer chair.
An hour later Brian was in a taxi rushing to the airport so that he could catch the flight that the concierge had booked for him to Pittsburgh. He was lucky that he’d been able to get the last available seat on the next flight out. He didn’t even care that he’d have to transfer planes twice. By nightfall, Brian should be home and asleep in his own bed. Provided, that is, that Justin let him into bed after he found out what Brian had done . . .
Justin was on his way to the library so he could get in some quiet study time before his next class when his phone buzzed to alert him that a new email had arrived. He immediately stopped and tapped at the small screen to open the email application - he was hoping that it would be a response from Brian to the message he’d sent with the video of Kevan. Justin had tried his best to give Brian some space so the man could work through whatever had been eating him, but it HAD been a full week now, and the young father figured that was more than enough ‘alone time’. He wanted to at least open a dialog so that Brian would know he was missed and he was expected home no matter what.
Justin soon discovered that the new email was from Cynthia, not Brian. He opened it right away though, still hoping that maybe his partner had just relayed his response through his assistant. And it turned out the message had originated from Brian, but it wasn’t the message he was hoping to hear.
“Fuck!” Justin moaned, slumping down in desolation on top of the concrete retaining wall that surrounded the library as he read the forwarded message that said Brian’s stay down in Cancun was being extended indefinitely. “Damn it, Brian. We want you home already.”
“Shit, Em! This guy’s fucking scary. Next thing you know he’ll be killing small animals and leaving them on Brian’s doorstep or boiling bunnies in Brian’s kitchen. We’ve got to do something to help Brian stop him,” Michael was expounding loudly, apparently not giving a damn that everyone in Woody’s could hear him going on and on about Brian and Justin’s stalker problem.
“I think you’re over-reacting just a bit, Michael,” Ted stated in his ever-reasonable accountant’s voice. “The guy hasn’t done anything other than send them some gifts and some sorta creepy letters. That doesn’t mean he’s violent or anything. And besides, what exactly could WE do to help? From what I understand, Brian’s got it under control. They have round the clock security, right Em?”
“That’s right. Brian had Cynthia hire those gorgeous Hulk Brothers. And, by the way, that Lev is to die for. Have you seen him? He’s a fucking Adonis. If I could just get that juicy morsel to leave his post for a night or two, I’d take him home and let him play security guard with me all night. Mmmm mmmm!” Emmett responded, getting easily side-tracked by his newest fantasy man.
“Yeah, well, security or not, I don’t think it’s safe. These kind of guys are fucking crazy and they’ll do ANYTHING,” Michael spouted off, undeterred by either Ted’s logicalness or Emmett’s flightiness. “I’m just glad Brian’s out of the country for the time being. I mean, I know that it sounds like the stalker is more out to get Justin than anyone else - what with cutting him out of the pictures and stuff - but that only means that Brian could be at risk too as long as he’s around the twink. It’s safer for Brian to be completely out of the picture for a while. I’m glad he’s still in Cancun.”
Michael’s ranting about the stalker and how Justin was putting his best friend in danger by dragging him into this whole situation, continued on long past the time when either Emmett or Ted was listening. For the most part, they were used to their long-time friend’s ways and knew that there was no reasoning with Michael when he had some bee in his bonnet about Brian. While Michael continued to expostulate, Em and Ted let their attention drift towards the many handsome men in the bar that night and what their plans for the rest of the evening might be.
Nobody seemed to notice that there was one customer in the bar that night who WAS actually very interested in what Michael was saying. The guy was all ears, but you couldn’t tell that by looking at him, since he was sitting with his back to Michael two tables away from the gang and seemed to be entranced by his drink. However Taggart was carefully listening in to every single word Michael was angrily broadcasting in a voice that easily carried throughout most of the bar. The information that Brian had been in Cancun for the past week explained a lot for the curious fanboy. He’d been wondering why he hadn’t been able to catch even a glimpse of Brian and was relieved that it was only an out of town trip that was preventing him from seeing the primary object of his affections.
Taggart was a little peeved when Michael’s spiel of information was interrupted by a phone call. From the tone of the cutesie endearments the short, obnoxious man was burbling into his phone, it sounded like Michael was talking to his boyfriend. Tag hoped the conversation wouldn’t go on for long. He wasn’t at all interested in Michael or whoever this ‘Ben’ character was. All he wanted to hear about was Brian. So it was a relief when the tall, lanky southerner came over, pulled the phone out of the short one’s hand and ended the call without Michael’s permission.
“Enough! You can chat with Ben later. We’re up next at the pool table. Come on before someone else takes our table,” Emmett ordered, setting the phone down on top of the table next to their drinks as he pulled his friend the few meters over to the table where Teddy was waiting for them.
While the pool match was going on, the patrons that had been sitting at the next table over finally got up and left. Taggart quickly switched seats so that he was now sitting even closer to the gang’s table. All three men came and went to the table off and on, sipping at their drinks or retrieving things from the pockets of their jackets that were still hanging off the backs of their chairs. They were gone for several extended periods of time, though.
And it was just Taggart’s luck that, during one of these periods when the Liberty Avenue Regulars were all too caught up in their game, laughing and kidding each other, Michael’s phone rattled and buzzed. Since nobody was looking, Taggart reached over and quickly picked up the cell phone. The preview of the text message showing on the small screen read, “Brian: Flying in tonight on Liberty Air flight #432. Arr. 9:25. Need a ride.”
Tag swiped across the bottom of the screen to open the messaging app - taking a guess, based on his impression of Michael’s intelligence level, and correctly guessing that the phone’s passcode was ‘1-2-3-4’ - and then tapped the icon to delete the message.
Tag looked up at the clock on the wall over the bar and noted that it was only just after 7:00 pm. That was good. He had a lot to do before Brian’s plane arrived. He just knew that Brian was going to be so excited to see him when he picked the man up from his trip. Maybe they’d finally have a chance to really talk this time . . .
When the gang had tired of playing pool and finally came back to their table, there wasn’t anyone sitting at the surrounding tables. Michael finished the last of his beer and picked up his cell phone off the tabletop. And when Ted suggested they head on over to Babylon even though it was still a little early everyone was in total agreement. They grabbed all their stuff and headed out for their usual night of loud music, semi-naked male bodies and even more alcohol.
