Stuffed Turkey
By Irishka1205
Michael's POV
“I gotta get going,” Justin says, putting all of his things away.
“Class?”
He shakes his head. “No, we don’t have any classes today or tomorrow. Just have a couple of stores to
check out before they close.” He gets up and starts gathering his things.
“Remember, six today. Don’t be late,” I say. I feel like an older brother nagging his little brother to do
something. Which in a way, I guess I am, or at least everybody in our family, especially ma, seems to see
us that way. It’s ok with me. I kinda like it, actually. Even though he does on occasion annoy the hell
out of me.
There was some time after the me-ratting-him-out-to-Brian fiasco that we couldn’t even be in the same
room together. But ma just got sick of her two kids acting like two idiots and dragged us up to my old
room that was now occupied by Justin, again, and locked us in there. It took us a little while, but we
sorted everything out. Thankfully.
“I wouldn’t dare,” Justin replies as he stuffs his sketchbook into his bag.
I laugh at his comment. Last Thanksgiving he was late and ma made him eat all the leftovers. And I do
mean ALL of them. Coming from an Italian family I know people who can eat a LOT. And Justin’s a
pretty good eater. He can eat more than most. But even he was ready to burst by the time ma finally
let him go.
“Hey, forgot to tell you. Jake called today,” I say. Jake’s our editor.
He looks at me, sighing. “What does he want now?” Jake’s been way too pro-active in our storylines
lately. It started with him just wanting some small changes. Now he’s even suggesting storylines.
“Uhm…” I look away, not sure it’s a good time to bring it up.
“Michael.”
“He said that it might be time to put Rage and JT back together.”
I study his face for any sign of emotion, but he just shrugs. “Ok. We can talk about it on Monday.”
Nothing. Absolutely no indication of anything even remotely resembling an emotion. Or
acknowledgement that Rage and JT story was in any way based on his and Brian’s relationship. Or their
break up. I don’t think Brian even realizes how good of a learner Justin really is. During the last year and
a half both of them did their best at not showing any emotions when being around each other. But I
could still see Brian’s cracks from time to time. With Justin…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Perfect mask.
And I know it’s a mask, because I know how much Justin loved, maybe still does, Brian.
“You’re ok with that?” I ask in one last resort to get him to talk about it.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he puts his jacket on.
I guess I should just come out and say what I’ve wanted to talk to him about instead of beating around
the bush. “I think Brian’s seeing somebody.”
He stops and looks at me for a moment, and then just bursts out laughing.
“I’m serious,” I say, a little taken aback by his reaction.
“Michael, it’s Brian. He doesn’t ‘see’ people, remember? So, relax, you still have your chance with
him.” He smirks at me and picks up his backpack.
“That is NOT why I’m talking about.”
“Then why are you talking about it? So, he’s seeing somebody. What’s the big deal?”
Once again I wonder if maybe Justin really is over Brian. But that can’t be. You can see how much he
still cares for Brian. The only thing you have to do is look at his face when he’s drawing Rage. “How can
it not bother you?” I exclaim.
“In case you forgot, Brian and I are NOT together. Haven’t been for a long time now.” Now he’s in his
annoying bratty little brother mode which I hate.
And I just throw my hands up in the air, exasperated with both of them. “I just don’t get you two.”
I never understood the two of them. Well, I understood Justin. At least in the beginning. I mean, come
on, we’re talking about Brian Kinney here. Who wouldn’t follow him around like a lost puppy asking for
more. What I couldn’t understand was Brian’s attraction to Justin. I mean, yeah, he’s good looking and
all and smart and funny and talented and caring and…Ok, I get it. He’d be a great catch for a lot of guys
out there. But Brian? Fuck, no. What would Brian want with a bratty little kid who couldn’t even buy
his own drink ‘cause he wasn’t legal yet. Brian didn’t want that. Didn’t need that. I knew that better
than anybody. Or thought I did. Because the stupid twink sent all these theories about Brian to hell
when he decided that he wasn’t going to give up. And somehow that all changed somewhere along the
way. I’m still not sure how or when. When their relationship turned into, well, a relationship. And
that’s another thing I could never understand. Their relationship. Still can’t, I guess. And I’m not the
only one. The rest of our little family is in the same boat as me. Except maybe ma. She seems to know
everything. And understand everything. But for some reason when it comes to Brian and Justin she
doesn’t seem to want to share.
I see a smile spread on his lips as he walks closer to me. “You never did, Michael,” he says quietly, “Why
start now?” And with that he just turns around and marches out of the store. Asshole.
Debbie's POV
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. I-don’t-do-public-holidays,” I exclaim as soon as Brian plants himself on a stool in
front of me. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” I ask, noticing the lack of his designer suit. He’s wearing his
black leather jacket and faded-blue jeans instead.
“I took today and tomorrow off,” he responds.
“Since when?” I’m always afraid that boy will become the next Mr. Scrooge and get acquainted with the
ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future. Of course, knowing Brian he’d probably just have an orgy
with all three of them instead of learning a lesson or two.
“Since Vance got something even bigger up his ass.”
“Your dick?” I smirk as I put a cup in front of him.
“He should be so lucky.” He scoffs. “And I wouldn’t fuck him if he paid me.”
“He does pay you,” I point out.
And of course he gets all defensive. “No, he doesn’t. I’m a partner in the firm. I pay myself. Which is
precisely why I’m NOT working right now.” With a satisfied smirk on his face he picks up his cup and
takes a sip.
“Oh, that’s very mature, Brian. Throw a fit,” I’m in a mother-mode now. He worked too damn hard to
get where he is to act like a two-year old. Gus seems to be more mature than his father.
“I did NOT throw a fit. He wanted everybody to work all weekend to get ready for the fucking holiday
season. And I kindly let him know that there was no chance in hell I was going to spend the weekend
working my ass off while he puts on another ten pounds in front of a fireplace somewhere in the
goddamn mountains. Besides, we couldn’t very well ask our employees to spend their whole weekend
in the office instead of getting puking drunk and watching football, now could we?”
“And what did he have to say to that?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t stick around to find out, since I let everybody go early yesterday.”
“You what?”
“You know, told them to start getting into the holiday spirit a little earlier,” he smirks again.
I can’t help but snicker at that. “You? Holliday spirit? Jesus. The world IS coming to an end.”
He sticks out his tongue at me. Little asshole. “I didn’t say I was,” he says and takes anther sip of his
coffee.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know. So, are you bringing your boyfriend tonight?” That was as good time as
any to bring THAT up. And it’s better to blindside him, so he doesn’t have time to prepare himself.
But when he spits out his coffee and starts swearing like there’s no tomorrow because he burned his
mouth I wonder maybe I should have waited a little. Finally, he settles down and just stares at me like
I’m crazy, which I probably am for even considering that Michael’s right about this. But I HAVE noticed
changes in Brian as well lately.
“My what?” he finally asks, arching an eyebrow.
“Your new boyfriend,” I repeat even though we both know that he heard me the first time.
He snorts, shaking his head and takes another sip from the cup, very carefully this time.
“Well?” I look at him, expectantly. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea for Brian to bring his new whateverthat-guy-is tonight with Sunshine there. Maybe I should have waited until Christmas, since Justin’s going
to be out of the country. But maybe if Justin sees that Brian’s moved on, he’ll make more of an effort to
let it go as well. And I don’t mean the kind of effort he’s been putting in all this time, dating all those
guys. I mean, really let go of the idea of the two of them getting back together and try to build
something with somebody else. Oh, they both act like there was never anything between them and
they’ve got others fooled. But not me. I know them both too well. They’re still raw and bleeding inside.
And I know this will kill Sunshine, but I promised myself the moment I saw Justin walk out of Babylon
with that boy that I wouldn’t take sides and I’m not going to now.
“Your son has a big mouth and absolutely no idea what he’s talking about,” Brian finally says.
I hold his stare. He should know by now that his little strides at making people think what he wants
them to think don’t work on me. He might be Rage, but I’m immune to his powers.
He gets up and throws a couple of bucks on the counter.
“Don’t be…” I call after him.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he waves me off.
“And bring HIM.”
He turns around, with a smirk, then shakes his head again and heads out. And I KNOW that Michael was
right. Brian Kinney has a boyfriend.
Emmett's POV
I’m in the process of helping this hopeless queen squeeze into a shirt two sizes too small, biting my
tongue to keep myself from laughing at his horrible sense of style. I once told this old fart that he
looked like…well, an old fart…and I nearly got fired for that. I learned my lesson well, so I keep quiet
now. Why should I care if this poor soul wants to make a fool of himself. Anyway, I’m three seconds
away from throwing my career in fashion away when I hear the door open. I turn around and see a
beautiful blonde head pop in.
“Hey, Em.” Justin greets me with one of his smiles. Sunshine, as Debbie calls him. It is so appropriate
for him.
“Sweetie!” I hop over to him and give him a big hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever.” Ok, ten days, but I
wouldn’t be a drama queen if I didn’t exaggerate a little, now would I?
“Yeah, the last couple of weeks have been crazy,” he says as he pulls away from me. “I had three final
projects that I had to do.”
“Oh, you look tired.” I ruffle his pretty blonde hair a little. “Why aren’t you at home getting some
beauty sleep, since it’s a long weekend?”
“Thought I’d get some Christmas shopping done before the stores close today,” he responds as he starts
looking through one of the racks.
“You have another month for that, honey. Go home, get some rest.”
“Actually, I only have two weeks.”
Excuse me? “Why is that?”
He turns around, his cheeks a little flushed. “I’m going away for a couple of weeks.” He just says it a
matter-of-factly as he rummages through the hanging shirts.
“Where?” And why was I not aware of this.
He looks away. “Uhm…the Bahamas.”
“Ooh-la-la,” I singsong.
He turns to me and smiles again. That shy but bright smile that makes him look like he’s twelve years
old.
“Did you inherit a trust fund or something?”
He snorts. “Yeah, right.”
“So, then how can you afford such an extravagant trip?” I still feel bad that I had to take those tickets to
Italy back from him. I really wanted him to go there. To see all the famous artists. And, of course, the
Italian men. Can’t forget that. The boy deserved it after everything he’s been through.
“I had some money saved up. And mom thought it’d be a good idea for me to get away, so it’s her early
Christmas gift.”
“Wow, an expensive gift.”
“That’s what I said, so we agreed that it will also be my very early birthday present,” he adds.
Well, how can you not love this kid? He just won’t take handouts, no matter what. I must admit, I did
not like him shaking his gorgeous bubble butt on the bar in Babylon back then, but I was proud of him
for being a man. Just like Brian was, I’m sure. Oh, I know it killed Brian to let Justin do that. I mean,
hello, we’re talking about Justin here. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he belonged to Brian if
he had ‘Property of Brian Kinney’ tattooed on the aforementioned butt. But Brian let him do what he
needed to do. And when he was ready, he asked for help. Thankfully. I don’t think I could have handled
watching Justin up there for much longer.
Now, getting back to the more pressing matters at hand, “Who are you going with?”
He looks at me, then looks away quickly. Ah-ha.
“With a friend,” he says.
“A friend? Daphne?”
He shakes his head.
“Who?”
“Just a friend,” he blushes again, and I know that the guy is definitely not ‘just’ a friend.
“Oh, come on, tell me. Please,” I whine. I’ll beg and grovel if I have to. This is the juiciest gossip aside
from Michael’s ‘Brian’s got a boyfriend’ idea that I’ve come across in a long time.
“Emmett, there’s nothing to tell.”
He’s good at the whole hiding-your-emotions thing. Brian taught him well. Neither of them showed any
emotion whenever the other one was with somebody else. In fact, they never showed any emotion
where the other one was concerned. No fights, no yelling, no tears. Nothing for the gossip queens like
yours truly to get their hands on. Except this one time last fall. Justin’s tuition was due again and he
stressed out for weeks, poor baby, about how he was going to pay for school. When once again his
knight-in-shining-armor shows up at the diner waiving a check in front of him. We were all in awe that
Brian would still be willing to pay for Justin’s education while Justin played house with the little fiddler.
Ok, so Ethan wasn’t a favorite person of mine, so what? Anyway, Brian shows up and hands Justin the
check. And everything goes on as usual. Right? Riiiight. Later that night I’m at Woody’s waiting for
Teddy to finish up with the Tuesday Night special at the office when Justin shows up all red in the face.
Turns out he went over to the loft to tell Brian to shove that check up his you know what. But somehow
Mr. I-can-sell-anything was able to make Justin take the check. The poor boy was so upset then, afraid
that everybody would think that he was using Brian for money or other stupid ideas like that. I did my
best to calm him down, of course. And that was it. The next day they both acted as if nothing out of the
ordinary happened. The only glimpse into their relationship. Or the lack there of.
They both seemed to move on. Or at least pretended to for our sake. Brian went back to what Brian
does best. Fucking and sucking. Justin, on the other hand began a search for his prince. After the thing
with Ethan went to hell, he jumped back into the scene right away. I can’t even count how many guys
he’s ‘dated’ in the last year or so.
“Oh, come on, we always got to meet your boyfriends before. Why not this one?”
“Because he’s not my boyfriend,” he replies while pulling out a black shirt with a little red devil in the
middle of it. “Anyway, I should go.”
He puts the shirt back and walks over to me, giving me a peck on the cheek while I still pout.
“Why don’t you bring him tonight?” I say.
“Bring who?”
We both turn around and stare at Mr. Label Queen himself.
“Hey,” Justin says. His face void of any emotion at all.
“Justin’s new boyfriend,” I reply to Brian’s question, since Justin is obviously not planning on doing so.
Brian’s eyebrow arches as he stares at the boy. Is that an emotion I’m seeing? From Brian? “That’s a
good idea,” he says finally, so fucking nonchalantly I want to slap him a few times to knock some sense
into his pretty little head.
Justin walks through the door that Brian’s holding open. I watch those two intently. I can’t see Justin’s
expression very well since his back is turned to me, but I’m sure that there’s something going on there. I
always noticed that they could have a whole conversation with each other without saying a word, which
is not very helpful when you’re trying to figure out what they’re ‘talking’ about. But that’s exactly
what’s going on right now.
“Bye, Em,” Justin says, turning to me briefly.
“See you tonight, baby,” I say back to him.
I notice a shirt that needs to be folded and am about to move from my spot when something interesting
catches my eye. As Justin walks through the door his hand brushes against Brian’s. Nothing major. Just
a slight touch. Almost unnoticeable to anybody else. Anybody else who isn’t me, of course.
No, that can’t be it. Can it? I mean, why wouldn’t they tell us if it was? Besides, I’m sure Justin
wouldn’t be able to hide it from us. Or at least from Debbie. I mean, he lives with the woman. She’d
know what was going on in his life. And if Debbie knows, everybody knows. That woman is almost as
bad as I am. No. It definitely can’t be. I’m just looking for a little romance anywhere I can find. I shake
my head and get back to folding the shirt.
“Hey, Versace, get over here.”
Brian’s standing by the same rack Justin was at a few minutes earlier.
I walk over there slowly. “Looking for something in particular, Bri?”
“Actually,” he pulls out the same shirt Justin was looking at and holds it out in front of him. But
something else catches his eye as he looks up and he smiles. I mean, really smiles, like he forgot that I’m
even here. He puts the shirt in his hand back and pulls out a white one with a gold semi-circle in the
middle of it. “Here,” he hands it to me.
I look at the shirt. Definitely NOT something Brian Kinney would wear. “Gift receipt?”
He stares at me for a moment. The smile’s long gone by now. And just nods.
I guess Michael might be onto something.
Daphne's POV
Justin’s always late when we set up a date, so this afternoon I take my time getting to the coffee shop in
our old neighborhood where we usually meet. To my surprise he’s already there. Talking on the phone,
so he doesn’t notice me.
“Yeah, I know. Ok. Ok. Yeah.”
I flop down in a chair across from him.
“Me too,” he smiles. “Bye.” He finally hangs up and looks at me. “Hey, Daph.”
“Who was that?” I ask.
He puts his phone into a pocket of his jacket. “Nobody,” he mumbles. “You wanna order?”
I shake my head. “Nah, not hungry. Let’s get going before the mall closes.”
We get up and leave. Justin’s obviously relieved that I seemingly forgot about him talking on the phone
with somebody. But I’m just biding my time for now. It bugs me that he hides things from me these
days. Especially the big secret of who his new boyfriend is. He keeps saying that he doesn’t have one
and that this guy’s just a friend, but I’ve met all of Justin’s friends and I know that this is different. He’s
almost giddy at times. That would be the times when he’s not acting like a Brian Kinney clone. Which
has only gotten worse AFTER the two of them broke up. Obviously, it left me and everybody else who
knows Justin absolutely perplexed. We all thought, yes, even me, seeing how much Justin had changed
since he’s met Brian, that Brian was a bad influence on the innocent little Justin. But now I realize that
maybe it was just Justin growing up. I’m sure he took a lesson or two from the King of Liberty Avenue. I
remember Justin’s constant complaining that Brian would never show his emotions, always acting like
he didn’t give a shit. Well, apparently, Justin decided he wanted to be Brian when he grew up, because
in the last year and a half he’s perfected that art. I might not know Brian all that well, but I’m pretty
sure that Justin’s a lot better at this than even Brian himself could ever be.
“Do you know what you want to get?” I ask, trying to start up conversation, as we walk to the mall. It’s
only about five minutes away from the coffee shop and there’s no point of getting in the car and then
looking for parking for half an hour.
“I have a couple of ideas,” he replies.
“Who do you need to get presents for?”
“Uhm…” he pulls out a piece of paper. It’s so Justin to make a list. “Mom, Molly, Deb, Vic, the guys…”
That’s what he calls Michael, Emmett, Ben, and Ted. “Colin and Alan.” His new friends from PIFA.
“And…” He looks at me quickly, then folds the paper and sticks back in his jacket.
“And?” The new guy. It has to be.
“You, of course,” he replies, grinning at me.
“What am I getting?” Ok, gotta hand it to Mr. Smarty-pants. The distraction technique worked perfectly
because now I’m pestering him about what he’s going to get me and giving him ideas about what I really
want.
It’s a couple of hours later and we both have hands full of shopping bags. Justin actually found a few
things he wanted. I, on the other hand, got what I really needed: lots of make-up and new clothes.
Hey, I have to use the money I got for my birthday somehow, right? No self-respecting college junior
would put it away for a rainy day. Besides, I still have plenty of time to go gift-shopping. Unlike the big
drama queen over here.
“I can’t believe you’re going to the Bahamas for TWO weeks,” I say. If I don’t bring it up he definitely
won’t.
“Yeah, I know,” he smiles as he sits down on one of the benches.
I sit next to him. “What are you going to do there all that time?”
“Nothing,” he snickers. “Absolutely nothing. Just lay on the beach and get sunburned all over.”
We both laugh. I’m glad he’s going. He really deserves a break. The last three years have been hard for
him. And not just because of the bashing or even his problems with Brian. A lot of teachers in school
had problems with him working on a computer most of the time. Of course, now he barely ever uses it,
but at first he spent so much time and energy just trying to prove himself to everybody.
It was amazing to see him at his show last spring. Being praised by the dean and a bunch of other
important, or so I was told, people. They told him he’d go far, blah blah blah. All I wanted to do was rub
their faces in just how wrong they were before. Of course, Justin behaved like the perfect country club
offspring. Smiling and shaking hands with all these losers. Once again hiding what he really felt.
Even when Brian showed up. I still don’t know if Justin invited him or if Brian showed up on his own. I
asked Justin about that later and all he said was that it was only fair for Brian to see what he was paying
for. The point is, Brian showed up. And all eyes were on the two of them. All of us searching for any
sign of…anything between those two. Brian got himself a drink and then walked over to the section
where Justin’s work was displayed. He studied each piece carefully, then turned to Justin. I was too far
away to hear what he said, but I know that it must have been something nice because Justin nodded and
then smiled.
Then Brian was introduced to Timmy, Justin’s boyfriend, and I use that word loosely, at the time. And
once again we all looked on as the royal couple, as they are still referred to on Liberty Avenue according
to Emmett, tried to outdo each other at how nonchalant each one could be. Which let me tell you, is
not a very interesting game to watch. For anyone involved or not involved.
“So, are you going to tell me who’s going with you or not?” Ok, so patience is not one of my stronger
qualities.
He looks at me and smirks. That all-knowing, annoying-as-hell smirk. “Daph, I told you…”
“Yeah, I know, not a boyfriend. I don’t care about that. I just want to know who. I mean, what if this
guy kills you on your trip. We won’t even know what to tell the police.” What can I say? Being best
friends with a drama queen rubs off on you eventually.
And the jerk just chuckles. “I’m sure that if I get killed on my trip, the police will be able to get that
information from the travel agent.”
Argghhh. If he wasn’t my best friend I’d strangle him with my bare hands. He’s become so closed off
lately. Ever since he and Ethan broke up. No, even before that. A couple of month after he left Brian I
began noticing the change. He was quieter, and to get any information from him about his life was like
pulling teeth. After Ethan, he started “dating”. And I do mean, DATING. Instead of just fucking
everybody around without even bothering to ask for the other person’s name, Justin DATED all the guys
he fucked. And there were a LOT of them.
“I hate you,” I tell him. And I do. He is the most frustrating person I know. Well, maybe the second
most frustrating person.
“Right back at ya,” he grins again and we both stand up and head out.
Lindsay's POV
“This is a surprise,” I say as I let Brian in.
“Had some time to kill, so I thought I’d stop by and spend some time with Gus,” he says as he goes over
and picks up Gus off the floor. “What do you say, Sonnyboy? Want to spend some quality time with
your old man?”
Gus, of course, giggles and claps his hands. He absolutely adores Brian. Brian in turn smiles at him.
“Good boy.” And he hands him yet another toy.
“Brian, I thought we agreed.”
He puts Gus down, who immediately starts playing with his new truck, and turns to me. “We agreed
about Christmas. Besides, my son deserves as many toys as he wants. Right, Gus?”
“Wite,” Gus replies, grinning at his father.
“Your son has way too many toys and not enough room to store them in,” Melanie says as she walks in
the door. She drops the laundry on the couch and turns to Brian again. “So, unless, you’re offering to
use your loft as Toys’ R Gus, I suggest you DON’T buy him anymore toys.”
“I don’t think Gus would appreciate the kind of toys I have,” Brian smirks.
“Brian!” I shake my head. That man can’t not talk about sex.
“What?” He gives me his innocent look I’ve seen so many times I’ve lost count.
“So, does this visit mean you’re not coming to Debbie’s dinner tonight?” Melanie asks.
“Why would you think that?” he asks while watching Gus push his new truck around the room.
“Well, we thought you might want to spend your first Thanksgiving with your new boyfriend,” I say,
trying not to laugh at how ridiculous it sounds.
He looks up at me, annoyed. “Jesus, did Mikey send out a newsletter or something?”
I sigh, about to make a mental note to never listen to one of Michael’s crazy ideas ever again when I
realize that he didn’t deny it. Not really.
“We had a brunch with Michael and Ben a couple of days ago,” I say.
“Ooh, brunch. How very country-club of you,” he scoffs.
I expected as much. He mocks anything remotely resembling anything a straight couple, anything a
COUPLE might do, like have a brunch with another couple.
Except when one half of a couple is Justin. Then Brian just nods and keeps his mouth shut. And there
were a lot of instances of that in the last year or so.
A part of me hated it. Watching Brian watch Justin with all these guys. Oh, he didn’t show it bothered
him, of course. But I knew. I knew it was killing him. Because I know how much he loved Justin. I saw it
vividly as he tied Justin’s tie on his nineteenth birthday. Ironically enough, on the same day Justin met
the man he left Brian for. Except, it wasn’t that simple. Brian pushed Justin away so that Justin could
experience all the things a young boy should. So, I was glad to see Justin do exactly what Brian wanted
for him. Go out there and meet guys and go on dates and be romanced and whisked away on weekend
getaways. That’s why Brian never said a word or mocked Justin. And that is why the rest of us didn’t
say anything either. Because Justin deserved it. All of it. I just worry that Brian’s not getting what HE
deserves in the meantime.
I think that is why when Michael mentioned that Brian might be seeing somebody a part of me wanted
to believe him.
“So, are you seeing somebody or not?” Leave it to Mel to get right to the point.
“Why do you care?” he snarls back at her.
“I don’t. I’m just sick of your love life being the topic of every conversation,” she looks at me.
“And how is that different from any other time?” Oh no. Here we go again. I have to say, the two of
them sparring has lessened since Brian signed his parental rights over to her, but it’s still there.
I’m waiting for Mel to blow up at him as usual, but she doesn’t take the bait this time. “So, is that a
yes?”
He stands up and puts his jacket on. “It’s a ‘none of your business’.”
“Where are you going?” I ask when he heads toward the door.
“I came to see my son, not to get interrogated.” He gives me a peck on the cheek. “See you tonight.”
And he leaves.
“He didn’t say ‘no’,” Mel says when I turn back to her.
I nod. “I know.”
Vic's POV
“Hey, Vic.” Justin puts the bags down, takes his jacket off, and comes in the kitchen.
“You left early today,” I say as he sits at the table. “Couldn’t wait to spend some money?” I smile.
“I had to stop by Michael’s first.”
“Everything ok?” The two of them have been working so hard lately on getting issue after issue out.
“Yeah. Jake’s been on our case a lot lately, but it’s fine,” he stuffs a carrot in his mouth.
It still amazes me how much Justin has achieved. He’s a junior in college and he already sells some of his
art. AND Rage is becoming bigger and bigger with every issue. And to think that not even three years
ago he was lying in a coma. We all thought he wouldn’t make it. Even my own sister who never gave up
on me began to lose faith. And it made me even more scared.
But the scariest thing was seeing Brian in those first three days. Besides Michael, I was the only one who
caught a glimpse of him. And I wish I never had. Because that image…of him covered in Justin’s blood,
completely grief-stricken, is permanently imbedded in my brain. He didn’t leave the hospital for three
days, staying in a different waiting room than the rest of us. Michael was able to get him cleaned up a
little and change clothes. But no matter what, Brian wouldn’t let go of that scarf. He just sat there,
staring into space and clutching it in his hands or putting in around his neck.
We didn’t know what to do on the first anniversary of the bashing. Debbie said that we should just go
about our business as if it was just another ordinary day. And Justin seemed to have the same idea. He
didn’t even mention it. Didn’t even look like it was on his mind or that it bothered him that Brian was
nowhere to be found all day. But at night he couldn’t pretend anymore. He was screaming so loud, I
thought he’d wake the whole neighborhood up. Debbie and I both ran into his room and tried to
comfort him. That night we got a glimpse of what Jennifer told us about when he first got out of the
hospital. We were lost. He wouldn’t let us touch him. Wouldn’t even let us come near him.
I was so panicked I was ready to call Brian. He, better than anybody, would know how to calm Justin
down. But Debbie just yanked the phone right out of my hands, saying that Brian wasn’t doing much
better than Sunshine and we should just let them heal on their own. Which is exactly what we did. We
don’t live in the Kingdom of La Kinney for nothing. We did what Brian always does. Which is absolutely
nothing. Pretend as if nothing happened.
“I thought Deb’s shift ended three hours ago,” Justin brings me back to the present.
“It did,” I say as I go back to stirring the icing for the cake. “She had to make a run to the store.”
“Another one? We should have just had Thanksgiving dinner there. Save some money on gas,” he
chuckles.
And he’s absolutely right. Debbie always goes nuts on Thanksgiving.
“Do you need help?”
Justin’s a great cook. He’s almost as good of a cook as he is an artist. I remember the first morning after
he moved back in he made us this huge breakfast. His way of thanking us, well, Debbie, for taking him in
again. It was about two weeks after he and Brian parted ways. He was back at Jen’s house and you
didn’t have to be a genius to know that he was miserable there. So, Debbie convinced Jen to let him
come live with us, saying that she needed some help around the house and with me, of course. That
was my idea. A nice touch, I think. Of course, Jen couldn’t refuse, since she’s still so grateful for us
taking care of her son when she couldn’t. So, Sunshine moved back into the same room upstairs.
Except he was anything but Sunshine. He became very closed off, never talking about anything that
really mattered.
Debbie used to worry about that, still does really. Once she even went as far as inviting Ethan, who
wasn’t a favorite subject of conversation in this house, to dinner just to get some glimpse of what was
going on in Justin’s life. But Justin just shook his head, saying it wasn’t a good idea.
I think it was a few weeks later, around the time Justin started his sophomore year, that the two of them
broke up. When I asked him what happened he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I guess he just
wasn’t the right guy.” “Who is?” I asked him, pretty much knowing the answer, but Justin surprised me.
“I’m still looking,” he said instead.
“Here, cut these,” I point to a bowl of veggies on the table and he eagerly goes to work.
We’re both quiet for a while, both engrossed in our tasks when I hear a faint “Vic?”
“Yeah,” I turn around.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, twirling celery in his hands.
“Sure, princess.”
He smiles at my nickname for him. Then frowns. “Do you…do you think that it’s possible for Brian to be
in a relationship with someone?”
Damn. “Michael talked to you.”
He nods.
“I told him not to,” I mumble, making a mental note to talk to my nephew about this.
“So, you don’t think it’s true? Don’t think it’s possible?”
I look at him. “Everything’s possible, Justin. It’s just…”
“Just what?” He looks at me and I wonder whether he’s hoping I say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
“Well, you tell me. You were with him for a while.”
He shakes his head. “That was different.”
“How?”
“Brian didn’t have a choice. He had to take me in.”
I have to smile at that. “Brian never does anything he doesn’t want to do, you know that.”
“I know, but after the bashing I was…” He pauses, as if looking for the right word to describe how he was
when he got out of the hospital. “Fucked up.”
Hmmm, pretty accurate description, actually.
“And he felt guilty. And yeah, it was good for a while, but it was wrong. For both of us. I’m just
wondering whether Brian could have a relationship with somebody he doesn’t feel obligated to or guilty
or responsible. When there aren’t any tragic events forcing him to do anything.”
I sit down next to him and sigh. I really don’t have an answer to that.
“Do you think it’s possible?”
I just shrug. “For Brian’s sake, I hope it is.”
He nods, sadness in his eyes.
“Sunshine, you’re home early.”
We both turn around to see Debbie fly into the kitchen with bags in her hands.
Justin, always the perfect son, gets up and helps her put everything away. “I don’t think I could handle
another food overload,” he says and the three of us laugh at the memory of the last Thanksgiving.
“What’s wrong, princess, afraid of a little turkey?” I tease and he grins at me.
Debbie slaps my arm. “Come on, let’s get a move on. Everybody will be here soon.
Justin's POV
“Sunshine, get another chair,” Deb says to me as I haul the two last chairs up from the basement and set
them at the table.
I look around, counting all the chairs once again to make sure I got everybody and I did. “Debbie, this is
everybody,” I point to all the chairs around the table.
“We might have an extra person tonight,” she says in a very quiet voice. Very guilty voice.
That should have been a warning for me, but I just go ahead and ask. “Who?”
She walks over to the table and starts wiping away some imaginary stain on the cloth, trying hard not to
look at me.
“Deb.”
She finally looks up.
“Who?”
“I told Brian to…uh…bring his new boyfriend,” she finally says.
“Oh.” THAT I did NOT expect. And I know the surprise and the shock show on my face in spite of my
efforts. I guess I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought I was. And I should be, considering all
the practice I’ve had in the last year and a half. Because that’s what Brian and I did. Hide our feelings.
Pretend that being around each other wasn’t hard. That nothing ever happened between us. That’s
how we got through this. At first it was awkward, but then our survival instincts kicked in and we just
pretended not to give a shit. Well, mostly I was following Brian’s lead, but I’d like to think I’ve gotten
pretty good at it.
“Sunshine, I’m sorry.” Now she’s got the Debbie’s patented ‘mother-hen’ face on. “I just thought
that…”
I just shake my head, trying to stop her from saying whatever it was she was planning on saying. “It’s ok.
Really.” Finally all systems are go and the ‘don’t-give-a-shit’ mask is firmly in place. “It’s fine,” I repeat
again, hoping she won’t see through my phony cheerfulness. “I’m gonna get another chair and another
setting as well.”
As soon as I near the basement door I hear “What did you do that for?” in a hushed voice.
“We agreed not take sides, remember?” Debbie replies to Vic quietly.
And they did. Not take sides, I mean. And I’m so grateful to them for that. To all of our friends.
Because it was more than I expected. I expected them to butt in like they usually do and take sides and
try to make things better with their concerns and opinions and only make everything worse. But they
didn’t. They didn’t attack me, well, except for Michael, but that only lasted a couple of weeks anyway.
And more importantly they didn’t attack Brian. I was afraid they’d think he was the one to blame for
what happened. But they didn’t. For once they butted out and let us work things out on our own.
Which is what we did. Sort of. It was hard at first but eventually we’ve gone from awkward to civil to
even friendly. In a pretty short period of time, I might add. Sometimes I think it was because I broke up
with Ethan, but I can’t be sure. Maybe it was all just a coincidence.
Everybody thinks that the reason we broke up was because Ethan couldn’t deal with Brian being in my
life. Especially that whole tuition deal that Brian and I had a huge fight about. That Ethan didn’t want
me to be connected to Brian that way. But the fact is we were headed for the breakup long before the
tuition bill. The first couple of months we were together were great. We spent all our free time
together, talking and laughing and just enjoying each other. But when summer ended and real life
kicked in, it seemed like we just ran out of things to say or laugh about. And there was nothing left. No
bond. No connection. No love.
I wasn’t as crushed as I probably should have been, I suppose. I mean, I gave up the love of my life for,
well, nothing really. What I thought I wanted was just a lie. A fairy tale. I should have been devastated.
But after a couple of days of wallowing in self-pity I decided that it wasn’t my idea of a relationship that
failed. It was just that Ethan wasn’t the right guy. And the only way to find the right guy was to look.
And so I did. I know that I probably beat some sort of a record of the amount of boyfriends I had in a
pretty short time. I’m sure that those close to me were probably comparing me dating all these guys to
Brian fucking all his tricks, which he, of course, went back to after we split. I heard Ted say once when
he didn’t know I was listening, “The only difference between Justin and Brian is that Justin actually
bothers to ask for a name first.” And he was probably right, considering most of the guys I dated I only
fucked once. But they couldn’t blame me for trying, right?
The only person I worried about saying anything was, surprise, surprise, Brian. Because his opinion still
meant a lot to me, no matter how much I tried not to let it. But amazingly enough Brian never said a
word. When we ran into each other while I was on my ‘dates’ he just nodded, said a few words, smiled
from time to time and went on his merry way.
I grab one more chair and head back upstairs.
“Jusin!” Before I can even close the door, Gus is in my arms while I’m still holding the chair. I drop the
chair and pick him up, spinning him in my arms. That’s how we always say hello. He, of course, shrieks
and giggles with excitement. I laugh with him and forget all the other things I was worried about just
moments before.
Finally, I put him down and he “helps” me carry the chair into the living room where Melanie and
Lindsay are helping Deb and Vic to put everything on the table. I place the chair at the table and then
Gus and I join everybody else in the kitchen. In this house this is the warmest and happiest place to be.
“Hi, baby,” Melanie’s the first one to kiss me. I smile back at her. Then it’s Lindsay’s turn. It doesn’t
take long for Gus to start demanding to be picked up into my arms, since he’s the only short person here
and wants to be on the same eye-level as everybody else.
“We’re all done here, so why don’t you go play with him,” Debbie says, the expression of guilt still on
her face.
“Gus wanted to show you his new truck,” Lindsay chimes in as we all go into the living room.
“Twuck,” Gus repeats and holds out his hands, patiently waiting for Lindsay to take his toy out of the bag
and give it to him. Then, as I sit next to him on the floor, he starts pushing the thing around the room.
“You like your truck, Gus?”
“Yes,” he gives me a full-fledged grin. Debbie says that he learned how to smile from me. Which is
probably the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to me. Because I love Gus even more now than I ever
have before. “Daddy give me twuck.” I should have known. It’s new and Lindsay and Melanie vowed to
not buy Gus any more toys before Christmas since he got an enormous amount of them for his birthday.
But of course Brian does what Brian wants.
I look up at everybody only when I’m sure that my face is expressionless and of course everybody’s
staring at me with pity and guilt. I just smile and turn back to the little person pushing the truck around.
Not long after that the rest of the gang arrives. Everybody, that is, except for Brian. Because, let’s face
it, he HAS to make an entrance. Always. No matter what the event is. So, we’re all sitting there
patiently waiting. Mostly I think everybody’s waiting to see if he brings anybody tonight like Deb said.
“I don’t think he’s coming,” Mel says.
“What makes you say that?” Michael’s already on the defensive. Some things never change.
“Well, he came over earlier today.”
“So?” Michael looks confused, but I understand Mel’s logic here. If he came over to see Gus earlier
maybe he wasn’t planning on seeing him tonight.
“Well, let’s all sit down then. If he comes, he comes,” Debbie ushers us to the table.
“I always come when I say I will,” Brian says as he waltzes through the door.
“Daddy!” Gus yelps and I barely have time to put him down before he dashes into Brian’s arms.
Brian crouches down and picks him up as well. “Hey, Sonnyboy.”
“We play with twuck,” Gus says, pointing to me and the truck in my hand.
Brian looks at me and our eyes meet for a moment. Quickly he looks away. “See, he likes the twuck,”
he says walking past Melanie and Lindsay and he and Gus are the first ones at the table.
Brian's POV
I get Gus all set up in his chair and then busy myself with pouring him juice and putting some food on his
plate and avoid looking at anybody as they settle around the table. Because I know exactly what all of
them want to know.
“Let’s say grace,” Debbie says and everybody except for me and Gus close their eyes and apparently
pray. At least they’re not doing it out loud, considering there are some people who don’t need to say
grace before devouring a turkey. Mainly, me.
I look around the table and my eyes settle on the blonde across the table. And I can’t help wondering
what he’s praying for. Is he just saying ‘thank you’ or asking God for something. Knowing Justin,
probably the latter. He never asks anybody for anything. Always has to do everything himself. No
matter how hard it is or how impossible the ultimate goal appears to be, he never gives up. Well,
almost never.
I remember that one Christmas when he lived with me he tried to get me to go to church with him and
Jennifer. I laughed. I mean, really laughed. I thought he was kidding. Brian Kinney going to church on
Christmas? Now, THAT would be a sign of apocalypse. I felt bad later on, when I realized that Justin
needed that. Needed to believe into something bigger. Especially after surviving as much as he did.
Who knows. Maybe he even saw some bright light and heaven when he was in a coma. He never told
me. And I never asked. Didn’t want to know. It was sort of a taboo subject with us. With me. He was
ok and that was all that mattered. Except, he wasn’t ok. He just did a very good imitation of me
pretending that he was. And I was so desperate to know that he was all better, that I believed him.
And when do I find all of that out? When we were still together? Right? You’d think so. But no. He
decided to share that with me when I least of all expected it and was completely unprepared. On the
second anniversary of the bashing. Fucking drama queen. That’s exactly what he is.
I was planning to do exactly what I did on the first anniversary, which is go out, get fucked, and then
fuck. The first two phases were completed and I brought a trick back for the third one. That was the
plan until I found Justin sitting on my doorstep.
We spent all night doing something that was a completely foreign subject to me…talking. About the
bashing. It was hard. So fucking hard to relive that night again and again, but Justin needed it. And I
was the only person who could give him what he needed at that moment. Because nobody else knew
what we went through. What I went through. What he did. We were like two soldiers who somehow
survived the battle. It was the connection, the bond that would last forever, no matter where or who
we were with.
He told me he remembered us dancing, the kiss. He remembered everything. Apparently he was seeing
somebody at the GLC. Which surprised me, considering how set against it he was when he first got out
of the hospital. Or maybe I was the one who was against it. Don’t remember now. And it doesn’t really
matter, does it? I smile remembering that night. Not what happened at the garage. I don’t ever want
to remember THAT. But our dance. Our kiss. His smile.
Just then Justin opens his eyes and stares back at me. I look away, even though we both know that I’ve
been caught. But I know he’ll let it go. Always does.
“Well, let’s dig in,” Vic says, cutting into the turkey and the plates start going around the table.
And everybody starts chattering away. Emmett about the new shipment of some fabulous silk shirts.
Melanie about making partner. Lindsay about the class she’s teaching. Ben about some Zen things he
always talks about and nobody listens to. Ted…well, who gives a shit what Ted is talking about. And of
course, everybody’s eyes are on Justin.
First, they start with school. How are the classes? How did he do this semester? On and on. If they
only knew how close he came to dropping out…twice…because he couldn’t pay tuition. I knew it would
be a struggle to get him to accept the money for school after he left. It was a battle to get him to take
the money in the first place when we were still together. But we barely spoke last fall and here I am
giving him a check in front of everybody. Ok, so I should have thought a little harder about the
presentation of the whole thing, but I was swamped at work and frankly I wanted that matter to be over
as soon as possible. Needless to say, I wasn’t one bit surprised when he showed up at the loft later that
day in a not very sunshiny mood. I think that was the first time we actually had a fight. I mean, both of
us yelling, screaming, and ready to throw things around fight. But in the end I prevailed, of course. I sat
down and just let him rave and rant for a while. When he ran out of steam I calmly made my pitch.
Advertising is my specialty, after all, and I’m VERY good at what I do.
After he tells them all about school and his grades they, of course, want to know about his trip. Well,
mostly they just want to know WHO he’s going with. Isn’t that the million-dollar question? Apparently,
he’s been VERY secretive about it. Or so says Michael. I listen to them pound him with questions,
amused and relieved. The longer they work on him, the less time they’ll have to get to me.
I watch him get completely exasperated, trying to find a way out of this interrogation. How many times
has he gone through this in the last year or so? Every time he went out with a new guy. Almost as many
guys as I’ve fucked. And that’s saying a lot. And everybody knew that too. I remember walking in on
the boys discussing Justin and I at Woody’s once, as if they’d have anything better to talk about, and
overhearing Ted say, “The only difference between Justin and Brian is that Justin actually bothers to ask
for a name first.” He didn’t see either of us since I just walked in and Justin was standing behind him at
the bar. If looks could kill, Ted would have been dead right there and then. I wanted him turned into
some smelly grey mouse and stomp it with my foot when I saw the look on Justin’s face.
It wasn’t anybody’s place to tell Justin what to do, what or how many guys to date. He was on a
mission. To find the right guy. Still believing in his little fairy tales with happy endings. So many times I
wanted to scream, to yell, to knock some sense into him. So, he’d stop wasting his time looking for
something that’s not there. Never was. Never would be. Stop getting his heart broken. But I couldn’t.
Couldn’t take that dream away from him. He wanted to find the right guy so desperately. And now,
watching him trying to rebuff any inquiries about the mystery man, I can’t help hoping that maybe he
finally did.
Anyway, Justin’s being pounded by a number of questions while I’m peacefully chewing on a piece of
turkey when he turns to me with a smirk. He stares at me for awhile, ignoring the others. And then
drops the bomb. “So, Brian, where is YOUR boyfriend?” Fucking twat. I nearly choke on the fucking
turkey.
And everything stops and everybody at the table stares at me, expecting some kind of a response. I look
at him and the little shit is smiling. Fucker. Why shouldn’t he smile? In a matter of seconds he got them
to forget all about him and focus on me. He should be delirious to get them off his back. Go ahead,
smile, you little twat. Your happiness won’t last long, ‘cause I’m going to fucking kill you when this is all
over.
I clear my throat, trying to come up with SOMETHING to say, but of course nothing comes out of my
mouth. So, instead I just get up. “Bathroom,” I explain and before anybody can say another word I
practically run up the stairs, taking two at a time.
I go into the bathroom and make some noise in there so they wouldn’t come looking for me for a while.
When nobody follows I go into Justin’s room. It’s weird being here again. There are so many memories
here. And I don’t just mean the ones from when Mikey and I were kids. If Deb knew what happened
here on more than one occasion when Justin first lived here, we’d both need wheelchairs to get around
in.
“Sunshine, could you get Vic’s meds from his room?” I hear Deb say. I can’t even imagine what it’s like
to be so dependent on something. Having to take so many fucking pills every day for the rest of your
life.
“I can get it,” Vic replies.
But of course Justin’s probably already half way up the stairs. “I got it,” Justin yells out.
Great. I couldn’t have staged it better myself. Because as soon as he passes by his room I grab the back
of his shirt and pull him into the room as he yelps in surprise.
I close the door and slam him against it, pressing my lips against his as my tongue explores the inside of
his mouth. I pull away slightly to get some air and I’m greeted by a bright smile.
“Hi,” he murmurs.
“Hi,” I smile back at him. I can’t help it. It’s contagious.
I pull him in for another kiss as we stumble over to the bed. I drop him on it and get on top of him,
finding his mouth with my own immediately. I miss this. The taste of him in my mouth. The feel of his
body underneath mine. Because of his finals I haven’t seen him in three days, except for the brief
meeting today. But I couldn’t even touch him then since Emmett was standing right there.
“Sorry about that down there,” he says.
I hold myself up on my arms. “You think just ‘sorry’ will do? You fed me to the wolves,” I say in my best
drama queen voice.
“I didn’t know what else to do. I was desperate.”
“So, you set me up,” I pout. “With boyfriends like you…”
Fucking brat. He just laughs at that. He loves hearing me say the ‘b’ word.
He runs his hand through my hair gently. “It was only fair. Besides, it’s not my fault that you couldn’t
keep acting like an asshole.”
Fuck. He DOES have a point. I guess I’m losing my edge, if Mikey figured it out. Well, almost figured it
out.
“Fuck it,” I whisper, kissing him again. That’s really what I want to do right now. Not talk about our
fucking family and friends.
He snakes his hands under my shirt and runs them up and down my back, as I grind my hard on against
his. We’re both about ready to explode, needing to be close to each other. We’ve held out for three
days. I’m sure we can wait for a couple more hours.
Right.
While I’m busy licking every possible part of his body that is not covered with clothes he goes straight
for the bulls eye and unzipping my pants, starts rubbing my cock. Just feeling his warm hand on my hard
penis nearly drives me nuts. My breath catches in my throat and it takes every ounce of control not to
make a sound.
“Justin, what’s taking you so…”
We both look up at the very confused and surprised Mikey. It takes him some time to realize what’s
going on, taking in Justin’s hand down my pants.
“Didn’t your mother teach you to knock?” I say when it’s apparent that he’s not going to say anything.
“Uh…sorry.”
“Could you shut the door, please?” I give him an innocent look as if there’s absolutely nothing out of the
ordinary going on in front of his eyes.
“Sure,” he mumbles and then closing the door, leaves.
I feel Justin’s body shaking beneath me. For a slight second I get worried, but when I look back down at
him he’s laughing. I mean, really laughing. Out loud. So hard he’s got tears in his eyes. And of course I
laugh too. I roll off of him and we just lie side-by-side laughing our asses off.
“Think he already told them?” Justin asks when we both calm down a little.
I just give him a look that says ‘we’re talking about Michael here.’ He nods.
“So, I guess your brilliant plan wasn’t so brilliant after all,” I tease him.
“Hey, I was doing just fine. You’re the one who dragged me in here,” he goes on the defensive. He rolls
on his side, and props his head on his hand. “We COULD just blame it on too much wine.”
I pretend to think about it. The key word here is pretend. Because I know that there’s no way getting
out of this one. “And get a rep for being a cheating boyfriend? I don’t think so, Sunshine.”
Fuck. Why do I always find the wrong thing to say? He frowns immediately and moves away from me.
He knows I’m just kidding. I got over that whole deal a long time ago. Or almost got over it. He’s the
one who makes a big deal out of nothing. I watch him sit up on the bed and straighten his shirt.
“I guess we should go downstairs and face the music,” he says solemnly.
I sit up as well, taking his hand in mine and pulling him against me. “In a little while. We have to give
them some time to place bets on how long we’ve been together and how long we’ll last.” I am definitely
a master. Because somehow I manage to get that smile back on his face.
“Maybe we should get in on it,” he grins.
“Oh, yeah? What would you bet on?” A moan when I feel his lips on my neck.
“You don’t wanna know,” he mumbles.
I smile and slap him slightly. “Twat.”
But he just presses against me. “I can’t wait for the fourteenth,” he whispers into my ear and my whole
body shivers, either from the feel of his hot breath on my neck or at the thought of the two of us being
in the Bahamas. Just us and the beach. And the bed, of course. Can’t forget that.
“Do you know what I’m gonna do to you?” I pant as he starts to slowly rub my dick through the pants.
“Stuff me like a turkey?” he murmurs in my ear and we both chuckle.
“And then eat you up,” I respond as he sneaks his hand inside my pants and is pulling harder on my dick.
He slowly pushes me down on the bed and kisses me while his hand picks up the rhythm. All the logical
thought leaves my mind as he brings me close to the edge pretty quickly. He slows down, making me
moan and protest when he pulls his mouth away from mine, but he just grins and in the next moment I
can feel his hot wet mouth cover my cock. I moan loudly, not caring that there’s a house full of our
family and friends, AND his fucking mother. He sucks hard and I shoot in his mouth.
These are the moments when I DON’T wonder how this kid was able to stick around for so fucking long.
He is the best fucking lay in Pittsburgh. Fuck. He’s the best lay I’ve ever had. And he knows it too.
When I’m finally able to process anything I pull him up against me and kiss him hard, rolling him on his
back. It’s his turn now. But he pushes me away.
“We have to go,” he says quietly.
“Fuck them.” And I really do mean it. Sneaking out of the window doesn’t sound so bad right now. But
he shakes his head.
He pushes me off of him and stands up, once again straightening his shirt and pants. “Come on, just a
little while longer.” He’s talking to me like a child, which almost pisses me off. But then I realize that I’m
pouting. No wonder.
He holds out his hand for me and I take it. He takes a few tissues and cleans me up a bit before zipping
my pants up and opening the door. We both take a deep breath and head out.
When we reach the staircase he stops and looks at me, unsure of what to do. So, I take his hand in mine
and lead him down. We’ll figure it out as we go along. Just like we always do.
And of course, all eyes are on us as we get down. The two of us stop in the middle of the stairs and look
back at them. He glances at me, silently asking me to say something. But I just shrug, at a loss for
words…for once. So, he turns back to them and gives them his Sunshine smile.
“Did we miss desert?”
The End.
The Easy Thing
The Gang's POV
DEBBIE:
“Hey, Deb, can we get some service over here?” That’s Brian’s patented greeting when he comes into
the diner. Instead of ‘hello’ or ‘how are you doing?’.
“Morning,” Sunshine smiles at me, as he settles Gus down next to Brian and then slides into the booth
across from the two Kinney men.
“Good morning, baby.” I plant a big kiss leaving a bright red smudge on his pale little cheek.
“Mooonin,” Gus repeats as well, looking so much like Brian, but smiling just like Sunshine.
And of course I have to kiss the little man, as Justin calls him, as well. Brian gives me a warning look that
says, ‘If you come near me, I’ll shoot….something.’
“What are you boys doing out so early?”
“We spent all day yesterday and last night with Gus, since we’re not gonna see him for two weeks,”
Sunshine explains, since it’s obvious Mr. Wonderful over here is not going to say a word.
“That’s great, honey.” They’re leaving later tonight. I can’t imagine not having Sunshine in the house
for two weeks. I guess I should be grateful that he didn’t move to Brian’s right away. Which I think is
kind of a sore subject between them right now. I think Brian really wants him to move back, but Justin’s
standing his ground. Good for him. He needs to show Mr. I-Get-Everything-My-Way that he needs to
learn how to compromise if he wants to make the relationship work this time.
I have to say, it was a shock for all of us to find out that they were back together. And had been for a
while. Apparently since this past summer, and without telling any of us. But, I have to agree with Vic:
they did have a good reason to do so. I still can’t believe the guys took bets on how long they would
last. I’m sure Brian and Justin knew about it, so, of course they didn’t tell us. Who in their right mind
would tell their friends who bet on how fast they’d fail that they were giving it another shot? Not me,
that’s for damn sure. And these boys, they’re smart. And in love. And more importantly, willing to
make this work. I’ve seen it. In the last two weeks I’ve seen just how much they both have changed
when it comes to each other. I saw it the moment the two of them walked down the stairs and stared at
us, lost for words.
Michael looked like he saw a ghost when he first ran into the living room, all excited. And when he told
us what he saw in his room, I was quick to blame it on the boys having a little too much to drink. That it
just sort of happened. And I was also ready to rip them a new one for not using their heads. I mean,
they were each supposed to be happily seeing somebody else, somebody new. How dare they ruin their
happiness with one act of stupidity and lack of control?
But when they walked down the stairs, hand-in-hand, I knew it. I just knew it.
“So, what will you have?” I ask, taking out my order pad.
“Cinnamon-apple pancakes for me,” Sunshine orders first.
“Me too,” Gus adds. He copies everything Justin does, which I think is absolutely adorable.
“And milk for Gus,” Justin adds.
“And you?” I turn to the grumpy one in the trio.
“Coffee. Black.”
I notice Justin frown at him. They share a look and then Sunshine turns to me. “And a donut.”
Brian gives him another look, but doesn’t say a word, so I move over to the counter to get the coffee
and milk.
When I come back Gus is already sitting next to Justin. I put the milk down and Justin, like a perfect
father, hands the glass to Gus and helps him hold it while the boy drinks it slowly. I get worried that
Brian might get resentful or unhappy that Gus prefers to sit next to Justin, to spend more time with
Justin. But when I look at him I’m left speechless. Brian’s eyes are fixed on the two boys, not even
noticing that I’m there. It’s like nothing else exists for him right now. Just these two people…the most
important people in his life. He’s completely mesmerized by them, amazed that the two of them love
each other as much as he loves them. The two men that changed his life completely. I can tell that he
just loves watching them together like that: his lover feeding his son. Not often do I get to see that look
in Brian’s eyes: the look of contentment and happiness.
Without either of them noticing me, I make myself move away from the table.
A little later when I bring out the food, all is right with the world again. Gus is being a loud toddler,
Justin is trying to clean up the spilled sugar, and Brian’s watching the whole thing indifferently.
“What time is it?” Sunshine asks when I put the food down.
“A little after nine,” I reply.
“Oh, shit,” he jumps up. “I have to go.”
The indifferent look is now gone from Brian’s face. “Where?”
“I promised Michael I’d stop by the store to finalize the ideas for the next issue.”
“Can’t you do that when you come back from the trip?” Brian asks, none too happy about this
development.
“I still have to go home and finish packing,” he says quickly while handing Gus back to his father.
Brian sighs, frowning. ”Fine. Be ready at six.”
“I will,” Justin replies, kissing him quickly. “Bye, little man,” Justin says, placing a kiss on Gus’s little
cheek.
“Bye,” Gus replies, his lower lip already beginning to tremble.
“Remember what I said?”
Gus sniffles and nods, but doesn’t cry when Justin waves to him and walks out the door.
“Come here, Sonny boy, we’ve got pancakes to eat,” Brian says, pulling the kid onto his lap.
And I just can’t help myself. I lean down and kiss the little asshole. “You did good, kiddo, you did real
good.”
He gives me his usual look when I get all motherly on him. The one that says, “Debbie Novotny has
completely lost her mind,” and I must have, because for the first time since I met Brian I’m not worried
about him. I move to another table as Brian gets back to feeding his son.
~~~***~~~***~~~
MICHAEL:
“Sorry, I’m late,” Justin says as soon as he runs through the door.
“It’s ok,” I reply. They are leaving tonight, so I assumed he’d be busy finishing packing and such.
We make our way into the back of the store where all of the Rage stuff is set up.
“So, where did we leave off?” he asks, flopping down on the floor as he usually does. It’s a habit for
him, working on Rage, while sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. I honestly don’t know how
he can sit like that for more than five minutes. My butt falls asleep and I can’t feel my legs for the next
two hours when I do that. I guess it doesn’t matter what you sit on and how you sit when you’re young.
“Getting Rage and JT back together.” This issue has just been a pain in the ass. Well, Jake, the editor
from hell, has been a pain in the ass about it. We wanted to have Rage do his hero thing and save JT and
that’s how they get back together, but he decided that he wanted something less comic book-like and
more personal, more human. Which is what we’ve been trying to figure out for the past two weeks.
“Oh, right,” Justin sighs. I think he’s even more sick of this storyline than I am. Maybe because
everybody’s been bugging him about how he and Brian got back together, which neither of them is
revealing.
I try another tactic. “You know,” I say, sitting down next to him, ”JT and Rage ARE based on you and
Brian…”
“No way,” he shakes his head.
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“Oh, yes, I do. And no way am I telling you.”
“But it’s for Rage,” I argue.
“Michael, no. I’m not putting my personal life in a comic book for everybody to see,” he stands up and
walks over to the window.
I follow. “You already did. With the bashing and everything.”
“That was different. THIS is different.”
“I don’t understand what the big secret is,” I say. And I don’t. They kept this a secret from us for
months. I mean, we’re friends. Justin and I see each other every day. And Brian? Brian’s supposed to
be my best friend and supposed to tell me these things. And when I asked him about it he just shrugged
and in his nonchalant voice that made me want to smack him around a few times said, “It has nothing to
do with you, Mikey.” Of course it does! He’s my best friend. We’re supposed to tell each other
everything. But of course Brian sees it differently. Especially since Justin came into his life. Well, our
lives, really. Because that definitely changed everything. Not just for Brian. But for me as well. For
everybody in our little family.
Not saying it has been all bad. Mostly it’s been good. I’ve got the bratty little brother I never wanted.
Ma’s got another son. Uncle Vic sees Justin as his son as well. Lindsay and Melanie act like Justin’s big
sisters. And Emmett just absolutely adores Justin. Even Ted seems to like Justin. And Brian? Brian’s in
love. I mean, really, truly in love. He doesn’t even try to hide it anymore. I’ve never seen him as happy
as he’s been the past two weeks. Of course, I spent the last two weeks trying to get the image of
Justin’s hand down Brian’s pants out of my brain, but in the process I couldn’t help but notice the hand
holding, the little pecks when they think nobody’s watching, the dancing at Babylon which has the whole
community still reeling with the news and gossip. The royal couple has returned! I’m sure there was
some sort of an announcement in the latest edition of Pittsburgh Out. Had to be. Brian and Justin
getting back together was probably as big of news as the two of them breaking up two years ago.
“Of course you don’t understand, Michael. This isn’t your life. It’s mine. And Brian’s.”
He’s right. Ma’s right. They’ve been through too much. We should just leave them alone and let them
work on their relationship the way they want. We all did enough damage the first time around. Well,
some of us more than others, but not anymore.
“Well, we gotta come up with something,” I say, giving in. We’ll just have to think of something else.
He sighs, relieved, and returns to his spot on the floor. “Ok, how about this? Remember you wanted to
have a gang of frat guys attacking the geeks and gays on campus? Well, what if we have JT and Rage
both investigating those attacks separately? And they both end up in the same place, like an abandoned
building or something and get stranded there?”
He’s good. “And then what?”
“Well, we end this issue on a cliffhanger, with the two of them alone in that building. And devote the
next issue to the two of them getting back together? It’ll be like a two-parter sort of thing.”
He’s REALLY good. “I like that. That way we don’t rush through the story.”
“Exactly. And we can also give the readers what they really want, which is lots and lots of…”
“Rage and JT sex,” I finish for him and we both smile. That’s when it occurs to me. He just came up with
this idea on the fly? Maybe that’s what happened with him and Brian. Minus the gang of the frat guys,
of course. Maybe they got stuck somewhere, just the two of them, and finally started talking. Or
knowing them, fucking.
“No,” he says, shaking his head.
“What?”
“That is not how we got back together,” he says.
How the fuck does he do that? I remember once Brian told me that Justin could read his mind. But this
is different. Brian’s his lover. I’m just…a friend.
“Nice try though,” he smirks at me.
Asshole. He just loves annoying me like that. Because he knows something about Brian that I don’t.
That I probably never will. No, definitely never will. That chapter of my life is closed. Brian and I will
always remain just friends. And the most amazing thing is that I’m not upset about it. I love Brian.
Always will. But we’re friends. All we ever will be. I’m in love with Ben. And Brian’s in love with Justin.
There’s no doubt in my mind about that. Brian loves Justin. Justin makes Brian happy. And honestly
that’s all I care about. That my best friend is happy. That BOTH of them are happy. I look at Justin,
who’s gathering up his things now and wonder if Brian makes him happy as well. He doesn’t need
much, I know that. Justin’s not picky or whiny or demanding. He just wants Brian to love him. Simple as
that. And I know that Brian knows that. He has to. But I can’t help but wonder whether Brian can give
him that. Whether Brian even said those three little words. But I guess I’ll never know. And that’s ok
too.
~~~***~~~***~~~
TED:
“Theodore Schmidt, stalking your boyfriend again, I see.”
I turn around to give Brian a piece of my mind. “It’s called wanting to be with the man I love, Bri. A
foreign concept to you, I’m sure.” I immediately regret saying this. I know that he and Justin had it
rough and they’re not in it just for fucking this time. Although, from the gossip on Liberty, they’re about
evenly matched in that department, the best ones out there. So, I guess being with the best is only
natural. But I really doubt Brian would get into the whole relationship game just for that. He can get
THAT anywhere, anytime, with anybody, and with fewer complications. But he wants Justin. That’s
obvious to anybody who’s seen those two together.
“Spending quality time on your lunch hour? Yes, a foreign concept,” he glares at me. Thankfully, Gus,
who’s in his arms, distracts him from me. I’ll have to remember to buy the kid a toy.
“Shouldn’t you be at Chucky Cheese or McDonald’s or something?” I ask when he starts going through a
rack of clothes. Emmett’s been stuck in the back for a while now and I’m getting very bored.
Brian turns around and looks at me. “I’m trying to instill some good fashion sense in my kid.”
“And with two dykes for his mothers he’ll need all the help he can get, poor baby,” Emmett says, finally
coming back. “I mean, have you seen those hideous hats Lindsay puts him in? It’s enough to scar the
child for life.”
I roll my eyes. Emmett and his fashion speeches. I think I have most of them memorized by now.
“Not if I can help it,” Brian says.
I can actually imagine Brian’s head exploding when Gus shows up wearing jeans bought at the Big Q. I
kind of hope he does. What an irony that would be, a label queen with a sun who has no fashion taste
at all. “I’m sure your boyfriend would love to help you mold the young man’s mind,” I snicker.
Brian scoffs at that. “The Old Navy poster boy?”
“Yeah, the poor boy doesn’t have the best taste when it comes to clothes,” Emmett makes a face.
“Which is strange, considering he’s an artist.” I honestly don’t understand what their problem is with
the way Justin dresses. He likes to be comfortable and he IS only twenty-one. “But he does look
adorable in his cargo pants and little shirts,” Emmett adds.
“Where is Justin, anyway?” I ask. In the last two weeks, since the big revelation, we’ve barely seen them
separately. Always together, as if they were joined at the hip.
“Jusin!” Gus shouts, startling me.
“Thanks a fucking lot,” Brian growls at me. “Do you know how long it took me to calm him down?” He
shifts the kid in his arms because Gus is starting to get antsy, looking around for Justin, I guess. Which is
completely understandable. Who wouldn’t prefer Justin to Brian?
Brian had always been envied. He always had everything everybody else on Liberty Avenue wanted.
The looks, the loft, the job, the dick. He had it all. Add to that a hot blonde twink who would give up his
life for him and you have the definition of the luckiest man on earth, or at least in Pittsburgh.
“Ooh, that reminds me. I promised Justin I’d help him pack.” Emmett looks at me apologetically.
Because once again he blows me off, and not in a good way.
“Shouldn’t you be packing as well?” I ask Brian, choosing not to look at my boyfriend.
“Unlike little Sunshine, I don’t get my kicks packing two hours before my flight.”
He puts Gus, who hasn’t stopped squirming, down, and the kid heads straight for a shelf with silk shirts.
He grabs a dark blue one and at the top of his lungs screams, “Jusin!”
Amused, all three of us walk over to where the kid’s standing, clutching the shirt in his hands. He holds
it out for Brian. “Jusin.”
Brian dutifully takes the shirt from Gus and holds it out in front of him, looking it over. Then looks down
at his son. “You want to get this for Justin, Sonnyboy?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, that would look darling on Justin,” Emmett chimes in.
“There’s hope for him yet,” I say to Brian about Gus, while Emmett rings him up.
~~~***~~~***~~~
DAPHNE:
“Hey,” Justin says, getting in the passenger seat. “Thanks for doing this.”
“Thanks for fitting me into your busy schedule,” I reply, pulling away from the curb.
“Bitch,” he smiles.
“You’re in a good mood,” I comment. He just can’t wipe that smile off his face. He’s been like that ever
since he called me the morning after Thanksgiving to tell me that he and Brian were back together…and
had been for quite some time, too.
I still don’t know how or why they got back together. All I know is that it happened this past summer.
Justin was pretty vague about who made the first move. From what he said, it just sort of happened on
its own. Which I really doubt. Nothing with those two JUST happens. They always have to work hard
for it. But it had been obvious to all, or at least most of us, that those two idiots belonged together. We
were just waiting for the two of them to realize that as well.
“I’m in a great mood. I can’t wait to get on that plane,” he says, grinning from ear to ear, which makes
me smile, too. It must have been hard for him to hide that happiness from everybody. I don’t think I
would have been able to do that. What’s even more amazing, though, is Brian’s behavior. I don’t know
how he is around his friends, but when I see him with Justin, he seems like a completely different
person. Oh, he’s still sarcastic and edgy and sexy as hell, but he’s also not afraid to ask Justin if he’ll call
him right in front of other people. He’s not afraid to show he cares anymore.
A couple of days ago the two of us stopped by the loft because Justin forgot his sketchpad there. If you
ask me, he just missed Brian, but didn’t want to say it. Anyway, I just stood there watching the two of
them. At first there was nothing out of the ordinary: the two of them mauling each other as usual. But
then…they were smiling and giggling like two little kids. Happy kids. I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
“I am so jealous. I’m spending Christmas stuck in freezing Pittsburgh with my family while you take your
boyfriend to the sunny land.”
“Two weeks, just me and Brian, the beach and the sun,” he brags.
“Go ahead, rub it in.”
He grins again.
“Asshole.”
His grin only gets wider.
I decide to change the subject. “So, did you give him the present yet?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m taking it with me. I’ll give it to him Christmas morning.”
“What about him? Is he getting you anything?”
He shrugs. “Brian doesn’t believe in Christmas. He does get presents for Debbie and Vic, and sends
something to his mom, but he doesn’t really believe in that. Which, with his fucked up family history, is
completely understandable.”
He frowns and I feel sorry for Brian. I don’t know much, but from what I do know, Brian’s childhood
pretty much SUCKED.
“Besides, he already got me something,” Justin adds.
“He did?”
He smiles again, nodding. “He insists that it’s not a Christmas present, but I KNOW it is.”
“What is it?” I ask, curiously.
“A shirt. It’s white and has a thing in the front that looks like a halo or sun or something.”
I look over at Justin and I can’t help but smile at him. Sunshine. That’s what Brian calls him. That’s what
everybody calls him now, but when Brian says it, it has a completely different meaning. And Justin
knows that, too.
I don’t ask anymore. Don’t have to. All I need to know is that Justin’s happy. He’s with the man of his
dreams.
I look back on the road as I drive him to his next destination.
~~~***~~~***~~~
LINDSAY:
I open the door to find two very unhappy people on the other side. But all I want to do is laugh. They
look so much alike, same expressions on their faces.
“Oh, what happened?”
Brian just gives me a look and carries Gus into the living room.
“Everything ok?” I close the door and follow them in.
“Everything was great until Justin decided to skip out on us. Then all hell broke loose.” Brian’s taking
Gus’s winter jacket off. Then sheds his own.
I personally try very hard not to laugh when Gus’s ears perk up at the mention of Justin’s name. “So,
who misses Justin more? Gus or daddy?”
Brian glares at me. “Bitch.”
I sit down on the couch next to them. “How did he behave himself?”
“Who? Justin?”
And I do laugh at that. I think it’s so adorable the way Brian’s first thoughts are on Justin. “I think
Justin’s behavior is the only one out of all of you that I don’t have to worry about.”
Brian rolls his eyes. “Look, just because he has the innocent act down pat, doesn’t mean that he’s
actually innocent. Trust me, I know.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I say, pulling my son into my arms. I haven’t seen him in twenty-four hours. “By the
way, he stopped by a little while ago to say good-bye. He thought you’d be back by then.”
“We went shopping and then to the park,” Brian says. I can tell that he’s not too happy about missing
Justin.
“Are you hungry? You must be,” I say, getting up.
But he, of course, shakes his head. “No, we had pancakes at the diner.”
“Pacakes,” Gus repeats. He talks more and more every day.
“I probably won’t eat for a week,” Brian adds.
“Oh, you poor baby, Justin actually made you eat.”
He shoots me another look. “Justin does NOT make me eat or do anything I don’t want to do.”
“Whatever you say,” I snicker, sitting back down.
“Linds.”
“Bri.”
“Lindsay.”
“Brian.”
He sighs exasperatedly. “Why do I feel like we’re back in college?”
I smile. “Who would have thought then that we’d end up here?”
We both look over at Gus. I dreamed of it, I’ll admit. I still do sometimes. Having a child with Brian.
Being with Brian. But those are just dreams. Nothing more. I’m with a woman I love and Brian’s with a
man that he loves. Which is a dream I’m sure he never wanted to come true. Or at least he thought so.
“So, how are things with Justin?”
He stares at me for a moment, then looks away. “Fine.”
“Are you ever going to give me a little more detail than that?”
“No.”
“Brian, I’m just trying…”
“You’re trying to meddle in something that is none of your business,” he says harshly.
“I just want to make sure that everything’s going well,” I explain. I worry about them both constantly.
Worry that Brian will start taking Justin for granted again. That Justin will seek greener pastures
somewhere else.
“I told you, it’s fine,” he stands up.
“You don’t have to leave,” I quickly say, when he picks up his jacket. That’s what Brian does. Any time
you try to have a serious conversation with him, he bolts.
“Yeah, I do.” He puts his jacket on and heads out.
“Brian, I’m sorry. I really am,” I call after him.
He sighs and turns around. “I know. I just…” he looks away. “I know you care, but stop, ok? That was
the reason we didn’t tell you about it. You all care too much.”
“But…”
“I’m serious, Linds. It’s hard enough without having the pressure of our friends’ caring. Just let us do it
our way.”
He’s right. Of course, he’s right. I know we all played a part in their break up before. We nagged and
meddled and put our noses where they didn’t belong. He’s right. It has to stop. It’s their lives.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, for the lack of anything else to say.
He gives me a peck on the cheek. “See you in two weeks.”
I watch him drive off and I can’t help but smile. He’s so protective of Justin, but more importantly, of
their relationship. I just know it will work this time. It HAS to work this time.
~~~***~~~***~~~
EMMETT:
"Oh, baby, I’m so happy for you!” I exclaim, trying to fight the happy tears. I get up quickly, pulling
Justin into my arms, again. The boy smiles at me with his beautiful smile.
I finally let him go. He really needs to get a move on if he wants to make the flight.
“You have it all, baby,” I sigh happily. “You’re doing great in college, you already have a successful art
career.” Rage is becoming huge. “AND the man you love is whisking you away on a dream vacation!”
He shoots me a look. “Actually, I’m…” he pauses, trying to decide whether he should say any more.
Which, of course, picks my curiosity. He and Brian have been incredibly secretive about their
relationship. Gossip queens like yours truly have been hard pressed to find any details of their certainly
steamy reunion.
“What is it, honey?” I ask, when a frown replaces the happy look that was plastered on his face just
moments before.
He sighs and looks away. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” He picks up a shirt and starts folding it.
But I can tell that there’s something on his mind. Something that bothers him a great deal.
“Sweetie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” I put my hand on his. I know that what happens in
their relationship is between them, but sometimes a boy needs a sympathetic ear and a comforting
shoulder that doesn’t belong to his boyfriend.
He looks at me with those beautiful blue eyes and nods. “I know.”
“I smile at him, reassuringly.
“I…uh…Brian’s not taking me on vacation.”
Oh, no. Not again. This is not happening. Did they have a fight? Did they break up AGAIN? “Did
something happen?” I try to hide my panic.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he shakes his head. And I sigh in relief.
“I’m taking him,” he explains and my eyes grow wide again.
“What? But how can you afford that?”
He shrugs. “I’ve got some money saved up from Rage and mom gave me a bunch for Christmas and my
birthday.” I remember he told me that before.
“I don’t understand.” I really don’t. I’m sure Brian can afford to pay for himself and Justin. And I tell
Justin as much.
“That wasn’t’ the point,” he replies. “It was my idea. I asked him to go with me. It’s only fair that I
pay.”
“I’m not sure if I want to kiss that boy or smack him silly. “But, sweetie, you barely have any money.
Shouldn’t you save it?”
“I have enough.”
I don’t know what else to say, which let’s be honest, doesn’t happen very often.
He sighs as he sits down on the bed next to me, his shirt still clutched in his hands. “I just don’t
want…I…I don’t want people to think that I’m with Brian because he has money. I don’t want Brian to
think that.”
This boy just continues to amaze me. “Honey, nobody thinks that. Everybody knows how much you
love him. HE knows how much you love him.”
But Justin shakes his head. “I don’t want him to think that he HAS to take care of me either. Like I’m his
responsibility.”
I sigh, moving closer to him and putting my hand on his shoulder. “Baby, you have to know how much
he loves you. Everybody knows it. Everybody can see it. If he takes care of you, it’s because he wants
to, NOT because he feels obligated.” I hope he believes me. I know that in the past we’ve all been on
Brian’s case about Justin being his responsibility. I’m sure it was one of the reasons he resisted it so
much. But I also know that Brian would give up his life for the boy, no, man, the beautiful man sitting
next to me. And it’s not because he HAS to.
Justin squeezes out a smile for me. “We should get back to packing. Brian will kill me if we miss our
plane. I’m making him fly coach as it is.”
Brian Kinney flying coach? Hmmm. Now THAT is something I’d pay big bucks to see.
JUSTIN:
I finish packing and Emmett and I make our way downstairs. We join Vic, mom, and Debbie at the table
and I do my best to ignore the looks they’re all giving me. I know what they want to know. The only
thing they’ve wanted to know since Brian and I walked down those stairs together two weeks ago.
When and how we got back together.
The thing is, I don’t know. I mean, of course I know what happened. Obviously I know what happened.
I was there. But it wasn’t so cut and dry. It didn’t JUST happen. Boom and we’re together. No. It was
long and painful. Man, was it painful. But after all the shit we’ve put each other through before, we
needed to take that time. To make sure that it was the right thing for both of us.
I guess a part of me always knew that we’d be together again. Or maybe I just knew that no matter how
much I tried, I’d never stop loving Brian, that he’s the only person I could be truly happy with. In any
case, I tried not to think about it at the time. I tried not to think about Brian at all. I busied myself with
school, work, and Rage. And guys, of course. Lots and lots of guys. What can I say? I was determined.
Everything was going relatively well. I could actually honestly say that I was happy then. Or at least,
content. It didn’t bother me that my classes lasted longer than my “relationships”. I had friends. I had
money. I got laid. What more could a guy want?
I didn’t think about the prom. I never thought about the prom. I wouldn’t let myself. I learned how to
do that from Brian. And we both got very good at it. But then that night…it just hit me like a ton of
bricks. And I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. So, I asked Scott, who I was dating at the
time, to drop me off at Brian’s. I knew he’d probably be out fucking or worse: throw me out and laugh
at me for coming to him. But it didn’t matter. I just NEEDED to see him. Because he was the only other
person who had an inkling of what I was feeling. And he did. I know it was hard for him to open up to
me like that, especially about that night. But he did it. For me. I guess, looking back on it now, I’d say
that it was the beginning of us getting back together. But then again, maybe not.
Because after that things went back to normal. Our normal, which translated into English means
‘pretending not to give a shit’. Like I said, we both are very good at hiding what we feel, what we want.
Anyway, things had gone back to the way they were before and I think it was three of four weeks later
when one night out of the blue Brian showed up at Deb’s a complete mess. He was drunk and high,
completely fucked out of his mind. But that wasn’t the worst thing. I’ve seen him at his worst a bunch
of times. But nothing prepared me for that. Brian was crying.
I didn’t know what happened and at that particular moment I couldn’t have cared less. All I cared about
was getting Brian upstairs in bed and making sure he was ok. Thankfully, Vic and Deb were out of town
all weekend, so Brian didn’t have to worry about a million questions he was bound to have gotten from
them.
It took us a while to get up the stairs and into my room, since I had to pretty much carry him. And just
because Brian’s skinny doesn’t mean he’s not heavy, let me tell you that. Finally, I got him into my bed
and got him undressed. Which of course to him meant only one thing. He reached out and grabbed my
dick like he owned it and for a second there he almost got his way. But thankfully my other head
regained control of my limbs. This was too easy. A drunken fuck. A comforting fuck. That’s what he’d
say the morning after. Blame it on not knowing what he was doing. And I’d let him. I knew that much.
Because it would have been easier to hide behind the booze and drugs rather than admitting that we
wanted to be together. And that’s why I couldn’t do that. A fuck wouldn’t have solved Brian’s problems
that brought him to my doorstep, and it definitely wouldn’t have solved anything between us. So,
instead of doing something we both wanted, I got him under the covers and willed my dick to go to
sleep just like Brian did the moment his head hit he pillow.
As predicted, he did not remember a thing when he woke up. He looked as if he was stuck in some
episode of Twilight Zone, waking up in my bed, my arms around him. I almost laughed at him. But then
I remembered just how upset he was the night before and so did he. He looked away uncomfortably,
neither of us knowing what to say. I don’t think I had ever seen him this vulnerable before. Not even
the first time I saw him after I got out of the hospital. I know he was a mess, but he did a really good job
acting like everything was fine. But we both knew that it would be a moot point to put on our usual act
that morning, as we both stared at each other from opposite sides of my bed.
“Why don’t you just ask me and get this over with?” he finally said.
We both knew what he was talking about. And I wanted to. Of course I wanted to know. But I had no
right to ask that question.
“Don’t get me wrong. Of course I want to know why out of the blue you show up at my door, so upset.
But…I’m not going to ask.” He looked at me, surprised, but didn’t say anything, so I continued, “If you
want to tell me, you’ll tell me. And if you don’t, that’s ok too. I just want to know that you’re alright,
that’s all.”
I knew he didn’t believe me. We both knew I was dying to know what was wrong. But it wasn’t my
place to ask those questions. Even if he did show up at MY doorstep, wanting to be with ME, needing
MY arms around him. I know I’m a horrible person for thinking this at the time when I should have been
focusing on him, but those thoughts echoed through my mind. He always went to Michael when he was
upset. Always. Even when we were together. If something was wrong, he’d shut down and go tricking
or go talk to Michael. I understood, or tried to at least, because they’ve known each other for a very
long time. If Michael gave him comfort and made him feel better, than I would just have to suck it up
and live with it, right? But it wasn’t Michael who he went to this time. It was ME.
We looked at each other for what seemed like eternity. Then I finally stood up, pulling my pants on.
There was no point in sitting in silence like that. I knew that none of it meant anything to him. He’d get
up, get dressed, and leave, not giving it a second though, and things will once again go back to “normal”.
Except, he didn’t. He kept staring at me instead.
“I saw my mother yesterday,” he said out of the blue.
I turned around, surprised that he actually told me. But the incredible high of having Brian finally open
up to me quickly evaporated, leaving only concern for him. He didn’t have to explain anymore. I could
figure the rest of it out on my own. His mother isn’t the most loving and understanding person in the
world. I sighed, not knowing what to say. I knew I had to do something, to somehow make it all better.
But I had no clue what or how. Brian was always the one who did that when I felt like the world was
crumbling around me. HE always dug me out of a hole, not the other way around.
I sat next to him and looked into his eyes. There was so much pain, I didn’t think I could bear to look at
him any longer. But I did. I just stared at him. Hoping that he’d see that he wasn’t hated or cursed, as
I’m sure his mother made it her business to tell him. He was loved.
“Remember what you told me after I ran into my father at the Big Q that time?” It happened a long
time ago. A few months after I got out of the hospital. We were with Gus, trying to wrestle toys out of
his little hands, when we come face to face with my dad. I was a mess for days after that. I can still
remember the things he said. The hatred in his eyes. But once again Brian got me through it. And now I
had to do it for him. “You live your life the way you want to. And if somebody has a problem with that,
well…”
“Fuck ‘em,” he finished for me, and I saw a hint of a smile cross his lips.
“Fuck ‘em,” I repeated it like a mantra. Just like I did back then.
We stared into each other’s eyes, our faces only inches apart. It would have been so easy to kiss him in
that moment, but I didn’t. I just sat still, waiting for him to make the move. Or not.
“I should go,” he finally said, quickly standing up.
I nodded. Yep, things were going back to “normal”. “Deb and Vic won’t be home ‘till later tonight, so
you don’t have to hurry. You can take a shower if you want.” It felt so good to be with Brian, around
Brian, in his life again. I wanted to make it last just a little while longer.
He smiled at me. “No, I should go.”
He got dressed without another word and then I walked him downstairs. He was almost out the door
when he turned around and looked at me again. “Thanks,” he said quietly and before I could reply he
left.
If you ask Brian what was the turning point in our relationship, what event triggered us getting back
together he might say it was the night of the second anniversary of the bashing. Or maybe the night
when he showed up at Debbie’s, needing me. Or maybe it was when he spent the night taking care of
me when I was sick. Or when I showed up at his place demanding some answers. I’m not sure. He
might pick any one of those events. But knowing Brian, he’d probably just say “Who gives a shit?”
“When is Brian picking you up?” Vic asks, bringing me back to the present.
“Uhm, should be around…” I looked down at my watch. Quarter to six. “Right about now.” And as if on
cue, Brian walks through the door.
BRIAN:
The second I walk inside, all eyes are on me, all wondering how the hell I ended up here: picking up my
boyfriend to go to the airport for our little romantic getaway. I’m wondering the same thing. This was
not what I wanted. Ever. I never had those ridiculous romantic notions about relationships. No, my
dear old dad did a wonderful job knocking those right out of my head pretty early on in life.
So, how did I end up here? Standing in Debbie’s doorway, the subject of enquiring glances across the
room? Searching for a particular pair of eyes. The eyes that always tell me the truth, even if the rest of
him is lying.
Justin’s been trying to figure out what was the moment that signaled us getting back together. Silly
waste of time if you ask me. Everybody wants to know that. How we were able to overcome all the
bullshit that destroyed us the first time around? I don’t have an answer for that. Neither does Justin.
That’s why he’s trying to figure it out, I guess. Not for them. For himself. Maybe for both of us. Who
knows? One day he says it was him showing up on the second anniversary of the bashing. Then he says
it was me showing up here out of the blue. Maybe it was. I don’t know.
I’m still not sure how I ended up at Deb’s instead of Michael’s that night. That was the plan. I didn’t
want to be alone, so I was heading toward Michael’s. He was the only one who knew how shitty my life
was when we were kids. He understood. He didn’t give me all that sympathetic shit either. He was just
there for me. Which was exactly what I needed. So, why did I go to Justin instead? Justin probably
thinks I blamed it on booze and drugs. And I let him think that. But the truth is, when he just sat next to
me and said, “Fuck ‘em,” I knew. I figured it out right there and then. He was the other part of me. The
part that was missing. The part that I NEVER wanted to find. Because it was the part that cared, and
loved, and made me vulnerable. The part that made me human.
But if you think that that realization changed anything between us, well, you’re wrong. At least, on the
outside. Too much crap happened between us. And I wasn’t sure we could get past that. I wasn’t sure I
wanted to, either. The truth was, it hurt when he left. It fucking hurt. And I’m not a sucker for
punishment. Never had been. Yet, I couldn’t completely cut him out of my life. Even right after he left,
I still wanted him in my life. I needed to know that he was ok. That he was taken care of, even if I
wasn’t the one who was taking care of him. It’s been that way from the beginning. Me looking out for
him. Maybe it was all the nagging I got from everybody. “He’s your responsibility.” Fuck that. My only
obligation was always to myself. Nobody else. Yet, somehow I ended up accepting a role of the
protector. At which I failed horribly. Maybe that’s why I tried to make up for it afterwards. I don’t
know. Frankly, I don’t know shit.
I do know that when I showed up at the diner a couple of days after my minor breakdown looking for
Justin and found out that Sunshine was under the weather, I rushed over to Deb’s. I don’t know what I
was planning on doing. I don’t know shit about taking care of a sick person. Besides, I was sure that
Debbie was deep in her mother-hen role by now. Still, I had to make sure for myself that he was ok.
Which he wasn’t. He looked like shit when he opened the door. And I told him as much.
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically, and leaving me to close the door, headed to the kitchen.
I looked around for Debbie or Vic, but the house was quiet and empty.
“They’re still in Philly,” Justin answered my silent question between coughs. “Vic’s friend is sick, so they
decided to stay a few more days.”
“You’re alone?”
“Yeah. Mom wanted to come over, but Molly can get sick from a tiny gush of wind, and I didn’t want to
pass my germs to her, so I told her not to,” he says, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead.
“You should be in bed.”
“I’m ok,” he said, but his cough told me otherwise.
So, I made him go upstairs and tucked him in bed. “Did you take anything?” He shook his head no. I
figured as much. Besides me, Justin’s probably the worst patient in the state of Pennsylvania. I tried to
remember what my mother did when I was sick. Then I tried to remember what Debbie did when
Michael got sick. “You need to eat something.”
“Not hungry,” he replied, wrapping the blanket tightly around his body.
That alone told me that he was not ok. There were only two reasons Justin wouldn’t be hungry: sick or
dead.
“You can’t take a pill on an empty stomach,” I told him and before he could object, I headed downstairs
in search of food. I scavenged the fridge and all the cabinets, settling on chicken noodle soup.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” he said, opening his eyes when I carried in a steaming plate.
I smirked. “I’m full of surprises.” He just gave me a look. “But my talents are better used in the
bedroom.” Justin raised his eyebrow at me, but didn’t crack a smile. “Besides, Campbell is a lot better
at this than I am,” I finally said. And then he smiled.
I put the plate down on the bed while he propped himself against the pillow. “Do you need anything
else?”
“You don’t have to do this. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
For some reason that comment hurt. “Do you need anything else?” I repeated a little more forcefully.
He stared at me for a moment before nodding. “Something to drink.”
“Eat your soup,” I said, making my way downstairs again.
It took me a few minutes to make the tea, but when I got upstairs he was already asleep, the untouched
plate of soup sitting on the night table next to the bed. I don’t know how long I stood in the doorway
just watching him sleep. I can’t even count how many times I did that while he lived with me. It was the
only time it was safe to watch him without him figuring out just how full of shit I really was.
I put the cup next to the plate and sat down on the bed, pulling the comforter over his shoulders. Then I
just stared down at his face. His hair, a lot longer than he usually wore it, was covering his forehead. I
reached out to brush it aside, but stopped at the last minute. I wanted so badly to touch him. I felt this
incredible urge that I knew wouldn’t go away by jacking off in the bathroom. It went deeper than that.
The need to be near him. To hold him. To touch him. To kiss him. Simple things, but so complicated. I
couldn’t have that. Not anymore. He was mine, but at the same time he wasn’t. And the pain from
knowing that was unbearable.
Not being able to be in the same room as him, I went downstairs to watch TV. I guess I had fallen asleep
somewhere between the “VH1 Behind The Music” and an infomercial for a cellulite product, because
the next thing I knew my left side was completely paralyzed from lying on it all night long and I was
staring into a pair of a blue eyes. That was not the plan. I didn’t need him to know that I spent the night
because I didn’t want him to be alone. But it was too late. He knew. He knew the moment I made him
go upstairs and get in bed that I was going to be here in the morning when he woke up.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him, while trying to massage some feeling back into my left arm.
“Better,” he said, walking past me and into the kitchen. “You want some tea or coffee?”
He did look better. Still a little pale, well, paler than usual, but for the most part, he looked ok. “No, I
should get going. Have to stop by the loft to take a shower and change before work.” It was the truth.
Part of it, at least. The other part was me needing to get out of there before I said or did anything else
that could be interpreted as me giving a shit.
He just nodded. He knew me too well. I had to leave. Things were quickly getting complicated and
confusing. And it wasn’t something we both wanted or needed at the time. We wanted simple. My
leaving was simple. So, that’s what I did. I left, hoping things would go back to the way they were
before.
But nothing ever works the way you think it will. At least not when it comes to Justin and I. About a
week later, despite my better judgment, I showed up at the diner. He was definitely better by then. No
coughing or sniffling. He looked good. Great, in fact.
“Brian!”
I couldn’t tell whether it was surprise or excitement at seeing me. So, I decided not to give it a second
thought, and sitting at the counter, I ordered coffee.
“Deb and Vic back yet?” I asked as he poured me a cup.
“Yeah, got back a couple of days ago,” he replied.
Not knowing what to say, I just nodded. It felt so damn awkward. I was sure that he could see right
through me, knew what I was thinking. Just like he did in the beginning. I guess that was our problem.
Well, one of them. I expected him to always know me, to always know what I was thinking and feeling.
I took that for granted and I never took the time to ask him whether it was still the case. I just expected
him to know me. I didn’t take into consideration the fact that somewhere along the way we both
changed.
“And you? Feeling better?” I asked, trying to keep him talking to me just a little while longer.
“Yeah, good as new,” he replied. “Thanks,” he smiled slightly, “You’d make a good nurse.”
I snickered. “If you tell anybody that, I’ll deny it with a fiery passion.”
He grinned at me. “Don’t worry. You secret is safe with me.”
And I knew it was. Yes, Justin is a chatterbox. Almost as bad as Emmett. But he’s also the most
trustworthy person I know.
“I’m meeting the guys at Woody’s. You want to come?” I’m still not sure where the hell that came
from. It just came out of my mouth before my brain could put the breaks on it.
He looked at me, almost as surprised by the invitation as I was. “I…uh…” he looked down, then back at
me. “I can’t. I have plans.”
Oh. “Oh.” Just then I realized that he was dressed in his nice clothes, even though he had an apron over
them. He had a date. Another one. Justin and his silly ideals. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the
whole thing sounded, but I found myself envious of the guy he was “dating”. He had Justin. I didn’t.
“So, who are you dating this week?”
I hoped that he missed the harshness in my voice, but he heard it. And took it exactly for what it was.
Me being jealous. Me poking fun at him. He shot me a look that said, “don’t go there, Brian.” And I
didn’t. He was right. I had no say in this. I had no right to have a say in this. I couldn’t give him what he
wanted, so he turned elsewhere for it.
I threw a few bills on the counter and left. It was becoming harder and harder to be around him. They
say that time heals all wounds. Well, it’s all bullshit. It was harder to be around him now than it was
right after he left. I was fine before. I was doing great. Until that night in May when he showed up
wanting to talk about the prom. He opened up a huge can of worms without even knowing it. But I still
gave him what he wanted, what he needed. The problem was, the next morning when he left, he forgot
to close the fucking can. I felt open and vulnerable with all my insides hanging out for everybody to see.
Especially him. But he was oblivious to that. Even then when I looked at him as he prepared for his date
with some other guy, he didn’t see it.
I decided to forgo Woody’s and the boys and instead headed home to my best friend, Jim Beam. But I
barely had the time to open the bottle and take a sip when there was a knock on the door. Out of all the
people in my life that I expected to be on the other side of the door, Justin was not one of them. But
there he was. Not only was he there. he was pissed. He just pushed past me and rushed inside before I
could figure out if the booze had made me hallucinate. Then I realized that I only had one sip, so I shut
the door and turned around to hear whatever it was he was about to share with me. And I knew it
wasn’t something I wanted to hear.
“I’m supposed to be on a date right now. With a great guy. In a great restaurant.”
“So, why aren’t you?” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as I strolled back into the kitchen. I
could tell I’d need that drink.
“You tell me,” he said to my back.
I turned around and looked at him, confused. “Me? How the fuck should I know why you stood up your
prince charming and barged in here interrupting my quiet evening at home.”
“Because you’re the only one who can answer that question.”
I snorted. “He got a small dick?”
He obviously didn’t find that funny. I didn’t think he would. “You wanted a fuck?”
I could almost see steam coming out of his ears. “If I wanted a fuck, I’d be fucking Alan right now,” he
said it as a matter-of-fact. Which didn’t surprise me one bit. Justin was well on his way to building a
very impressive reputation on Liberty Avenue.
“Yeah, but he’s not as good as I am,” I said, walking up to him. I stood close to him, our faces only
inches apart. I could feel his breath on my face and it instantly made me hard.
I stared down at him, but instead of looking away like I thought he would, he took a step closer and
stared back into my eyes. “Can you give me what I want, Brian?”
I felt blindsided. That just came out of nowhere. I didn’t know how else to respond, so I just laughed. I
laughed in his face. “Who the fuck do you think I am? One of your dreamy-eyed boyfriends? Spewing
romantic bullshit and having picnics on the floor of some dump?” I was pissed at him for bringing this all
up, but we all know that my dick has a mind of its own. And being so close to Justin didn’t help matters.
It was like the mothership calling back the troops and my dick was the first one in line. So, I moved
away, getting the glass out of the cabinet and pouring myself a nice portion of JB.
He didn’t move from his spot. “Can you?”
“What gives you the right to come in here and demand anything?! You want romance? Go back to
Ethan or Alan or whoever else you can pick up at Boy Toy with romantic notions, small dicks, and no
balls!” Fuck, was I angry. What pissed me off even more was the fact that he was so calm. So fucking
calm. He knew exactly what he was doing. Unfortunately, I didn’t. He just stared at me without saying
another word, waiting for me to answer him instead of avoiding his question. I took a deep breath.
Once again he was winning and I was losing. “What do you want?” I finally asked him, knowing full well
what his answer would be. I hoped he wouldn’t say it. I didn’t want him to say it. Because, if, no,
WHEN he said it, I was supposed to answer him and I wasn’t sure I could. I honestly didn’t know the
answer. But I knew that telling him ‘no’ would mean watching him walk out the door to never return
again. And saying ‘yes’ would mean something else entirely.
Justin’s features softened as he studied my face carefully. “You,” he said quietly.
THAT was not what I expected. I was waiting for a rant on what a relationship’s supposed to be, the
flowers and poems and all that other bullshit he’d expect from me. But that was not what he said. He
said ‘you’.
“Can you give me YOU?” he asked when I didn’t say anything.
I didn’t know. Giving yourself to somebody else is the scariest thing in life. Opening myself to him
would mean opening myself to the possibility of being hurt again. And that was definitely not on my
agenda.
“Justin, the flowers and the words and all the other romantic shit…it’s just not me. You know that.”
He took a step closer. “I don’t care about that. Those things are just signs. Signs that prove to me that
you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me, Brian?”
He stared into my eyes, but I couldn’t hold his stare. I looked away and I felt him moving away from me.
“I guess that answers that question,” he said quietly.
I didn’t look up at him. I only heard the door open and then close again. And once again the loft felt
empty. Emptier than before. Or maybe it was me. He gave me a chance and I blew it and I felt…empty.
I didn’t see him for a couple of weeks after that. I’m not sure if he was avoiding me or his schedule just
worked out that way. He was never at the diner when I was there and he was missing from the club
scene. I wanted to ask Emmett, or Debbie, or even Michael. But that would have started a whole other
discussion and a string of questions that I did not want to deal with. So, I just waited patiently, hoping
that I’d “run” into him eventually. Of course, I had no idea what I’d say once I did see him. A part of me
wanted to just tell him to fuck off. HE was the one who left in the first place. HE wanted out, not me.
Why should I have to answer his fucking questions?
“He’s not here,” Debbie said to me when once again I showed up at the diner.
“Who?” I asked, cursing silently for being so fucking obvious.
“Who?” She stared back at me. She knew. She always knows everything.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I tried, but I knew it was futile.
“Of course you don’t. Do you at least know what you’re doing?” She got in my face, like she usually
does when she’s trying to make a point.
“I’m waiting for my coffee.”
She shook her head. “Brian, you have to stop this.”
“Stop what?” I looked at her confused.
“Either make him happy or move on and give someone else a chance to make him happy.”
I looked down. She was right. Wasn’t that the plan to begin with? That was Ethan’s job. That’s why I
let him go.
She put her hands on both sides of my face, pulling my face up. “Give yourself a chance to be happy.”
I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. I pulled away, needing to get out of there.
“That Alan,” she called after me. I turned around. “He seems like a good kid. He’s good to Justin.” I
nodded. “They went to Vermont for a week.”
I could feel my heart pounding in my head. Alan? The same Alan from two weeks ago. That meant that
this was getting serious. Or at least more serious than most of Justin’s relationships. And I think that’s
when I realized that I couldn’t let him go. I could deal with his stabs at real romance, relationships, all
that other shit. Because I figured that eventually he’d figure out that it was all bullshit. But the idea of
him falling for somebody else, giving himself to somebody else, belonging to somebody else…THAT I was
not prepared for.
I finally saw him a week later at Babylon. He was dancing with some hot guy who I assumed was Alan.
When the guy left the dance floor to either get a drink or go to the bathroom, I moved through the
crowd toward Justin. He was surprised to see me, but quickly covered it up. He did get pretty good at
covering up his feelings.
“How was your trip?” I asked.
He chuckled. “As if you give a shit.”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
He stopped dancing and stared at me, studying my face. “What do you want, Brian?” Like I said, he
knows me too well.
“You ran off with your beau before you could get your answer.”
His eyes widened and I could tell he was fighting to retain the look of indifference on his face.
“What…what are you talking?” We both knew what I was talking about, but he asked anyway. I would
have, too.
“You asked me a question.”
“I…I did.”
“Don’t you want to know what the answer is?”
“Yes, but…”
And just then Justin’s boyfriend had returned with two drinks in his hands. I have to say, Alan had
impeccably bad timing. And I had a nice case of chickening out.
“Well, you boys have fun,” I gave them a fake smile and quickly made my way out of the club. I sat in
the Jeep for what seemed like forever, expecting Justin to run after me, like he usually would have.
Well, at least he would have once upon a time. I was about to tell him everything he had ever dreamed
off hearing from me. But he didn’t follow me. He didn’t run out of Babylon and jump into my arms,
forgetting about Alan or whoever that guy was. Instead, I drove home alone, got drunk, woke up the
next morning, got dressed, and went to work.
I had a shitty day the next day and couldn’t wait for the day to be over. I rushed home after getting out
of a late meeting. My only plan of action was to take a quick shower and head to the baths: the best
medicine for erasing a day from hell. But once again a certain blonde twink turned my plans and my life
upside down. He was standing in front of the building waiting for me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked without looking at him, while punching in the code to open the
door.
“Selling oranges.”
I didn’t find that particularly funny and I’m sure the look I gave him told him as much.
“Duh! Waiting for you,” he amended.
I opened the door and walked through it, Justin following me. “What for?”
I opted not to wait for the elevator and started to climb the stairs instead. But I was stopped by Justin’s
hand. I sighed and turned around.
“You were telling me something last night,” he said.
I shrugged. “I was? Fuck, I must have been really out of it.”
I have a knack for saying the wrong thing at the worst time. I could see the hope die in his eyes. He let
go of my hand and took a step back.
“So, you didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?” I cut him off. “Want to announce my undying love for you in the middle of Babylon?”
He looked like I punched him, but I was the one who felt the sharp pain shoot through my body when he
put his hand on the doorknob, opening the door to leave. That’s when I said, ‘fuck it’. I couldn’t watch
him leave me again. I couldn’t LET him leave me again. I moved to the door, pushing it shut, pressing
him against it. He turned around and my lips immediately covered his. We pulled apart only when air
became an issue.
I took his hand and we walked up the stairs, together. When we reached the top floor, I opened the
door and let him through it. Then followed him in, shutting the door behind us. He walked in the living
room and turned around, looking at me expectantly.
“I just need to know,” he said.
“What?” I asked, taking my suit jacket off.
“If it means something or not. I just need to know. It’s fine if it doesn’t. But I want to know ahead of
time before…”
I took quick steps toward him and kissed him again, slowly and tenderly this time. “It means
something,” I said when I pulled away. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say, but I knew
it was the best thing to ever come out of my mouth, because he smiled at me. That patented Sunshine
smile that can blind you if you look directly at it.
I kissed him again before pulling apart. I knew we had to make a few things clear before going any
further. “Justin, I want…I do…what you said before…I do want to give you what you want. I do.”
“But?”
“But…”
He frowned.
“I don’t know how or if I am even capable of…”
He smiled again. “It’s ok,” he took a step toward me. “As long as you want to give it a try…”
“I do.”
And that was it. Those two words erased the last two years worth of angst and drama and pain. The
weirdest part was that those were the easiest words I ever had to say. Strange how the most important
things in your life turn out to be the easiest, no brainers.
Later that night Justin asked me what I wanted. I don’t think anybody had ever asked me that question
before, including myself. I never thought about it. I knew what I didn’t want and most of that turned
out to be a lie. I just wanted Justin in my bed before I went to sleep at night and in the morning when I
woke up. That was all I knew then. That’s all I know now. Beyond that I’m just winging it, taking it one
day at a time.
Do I fuck up? Constantly. Do I want out of this? As much as most people want out of their
commitments. Am I giving up? Fuck no.
I look around the room now at our family and friends trying to figure out why I’m here waiting for Justin.
How can I explain to them what it feels like to know that Justin loves me? He needs me and wants me
and the feeling that comes from knowing that is intoxicating. It’s like a drug with continuous effects and
no hangovers, unless you count the headaches from Justin talking my ears off.
“You have some time. Why don’t you eat something?” Deb is already up, slapping massive amounts of
pasta on the plate.
“I’m not hungry,” I pull up a chair next to Justin and sit down as he smiles at me. I lean in to kiss him,
but have to force myself to only give him a peck. His mother’s sitting across the table and I don’t think
she’d appreciate an NC-17 rated preview of her son’s vacation.
“You should eat something. I don’t think you’ll wanna eat plane food,” he says, immediately digging into
what I assume is his second or maybe third serving. He’s right, though. There’s no chance in hell am I
eating the shit they call food on the plane. So, I stuff myself with enough food to last me a few hours.
We’ll pick up a few sandwiches on our way to the airport as well.
“You ready?” I ask Justin when I finish eating. It’s time to go. I want to get to the airport early. Since
we’re flying coach, we’re going to have to stand in a huge line. Next time I’m going to be the one
making the reservations, no matter what he says.
“Yep,” he replies while chewing the last of his food.
“We should get going. The cab’s still waiting,” I say, getting up, trying to ignore the looks. Deb gets all
sad. Jennifer looks like she’s loosing her son forever. And Emmett’s already fighting the waterworks.
Vic’s the only one who seems like he’s not going to a funeral.
I let Debbie kiss me while watching the cabbie trying to stuff Justin’s suitcase on top of mine in the trunk
of the car. Justin hugs Emmett, Vic, and Jennifer, then gets a big sloppy kiss from Debbie. Finally, we
get in the car and pull away from the house of grief.
“They’re acting like they’re never going to see you again,” I tell Justin when the house disappears from
our view.
“They’re just going to miss us, that’s all,” he replies, moving in closer to me. I haven’t seen him since
this morning, so I take advantage of his closeness and find his mouth immediately with mine. “I mean,
what are they going to talk about for two whole weeks with us gone?” He snickers. We often make fun
at how involved in our love lives everybody else is.
“They’ve got Ted and Emmett to entertain them.” We both chuckle. Any time I see those two together I
can’t decide whether I want to poke my eyes out or theirs.
I decide that this is as good as time as any to give him the shirt I bought earlier today, so I pull the box
out of my carry-on bag. “Here.”
He looks at me confused as he takes the box from me. “Brian, you already gave me a present.”
“First of all, that was not a present. I just liked the shirt, so I bought it.” I’ve explained it a million times
to him. I thought that giving him the shirt three weeks before Christmas would prove that to him.
“Second of all, this isn’t from me.”
“It’s not,” he smirks. He thinks he knows everything.
“It’s from Gus.”
“Gus.”
“You don’t believe me? He saw the shirt and insisted I buy it.” Well, at least my kid inherited MY
fashion sense.
Justin, of course, just laughs, as he opens the box and pulls out the shirt. Gus was right, the shirt is
definitely right for Justin.
“I guess I’ll just have to thank HIM for that later,” he gives me the look I know oh so well.
“Well, I did pay for it, so…”
And the twat bursts out laughing.
When we get to the airport the line isn’t that long, so we get processed pretty quickly. And thankfully,
there’s no delay. We get into our seats without any problems as well. And since we’re flying American,
coach is not as bad as I thought it was going to be. There’s more room than usual, which with my long
legs is a must.
The flight attendant announces our take off and I look over at Justin, who’s staring out the window,
excitedly. He looks so much younger when he’s like that. Like the seventeen-year old twink I picked up
that night outside Babylon.
“What?” he asks when once again he catches me staring at him. It’s been happening a lot lately. I
should stop it, but I can’t help it. He’s changing every day, but at the same time, he’s still the same boy I
deflowered that one warm night so long ago.
“Nothing,” I give him my usual response. But he smiles at me and takes my hand as the plane begins to
move.
We’re a couple of hours into our flight. I’m reading a new issue of GQ while Justin’s playing his Game
Boy. Or that’s what I thought. Because, all of a sudden I feel his hand on my crotch. I jump, surprised
and startled.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper.
The little twat just grins at me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re trying to get us in trouble before we even get to the Bahamas. So, quit it.” I slap his
hand away.
“But Brian,” he whines. I know that whine so well. He always uses it whenever he doesn’t get
something his way. It’s the same one Gus uses. I’m still trying to figure out whether Justin taught Gus
or vice versa. In any case, he’s not getting THIS right NOW. No fucking way.
“The mile high club is highly overrated. Trust me on that.”
“You’ve done it. I want to as well,” he pouts.
“Justin,” I warn him, but he just ignores it and keeps on pouting.
“Please? It won’t take long.”
I sigh exasperated. “You do realize that that’s how George died, don’t you?”
“Yes, but George was like a hundred years old.”
I have to roll my eyes at him. At least he didn’t make a crack at my age this time.
“Have you ever been in a plane bathroom? It’s too fucking claustrophobic. Besides, I still have an image
of George and Emmett in one of those. It gives me the creeps.” I shiver as I always do just thinking
about that. I so do NOT want that image in my head. Especially right now, on the plane.
“All the more reasons to do it. Substitute it with a good memory.”
He’s nothing if not persistent.
“You want us to get thrown out of the plane?”
The brat just snickers. “I highly doubt that’s gonna happen.”
I sigh again. “Twat.”
But he grins. “Is that a yes?”
“No.”
“Brian.”
“No.”
I’m expecting another ‘Brian’, but it doesn’t come. My relief is only temporary, though. The next
moment I feel his hand on my dick again, while his tongue slowly traces my jaw. And of course, my dick
goes in high alert status in a matter of milliseconds.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I look at him and before I say anything at all he practically jumps out of his seat and heads to the
bathroom. I make sure that nobody’s watching and follow him a couple minutes later.
As soon as I get inside the image of George and Emmett floods my mind and I’m ready to bolt out of
there, but Justin wraps his arms around me, and starts kissing my neck again. It doesn’t take long before
I pull down our pants, put a condom and lube on my dick and push inside of him. To give him some
credit, Justin doesn’t make a peep. He holds on to the wall, and I put my hand over his, trying to hold
myself up as well as I move in and out of his tight hole. When we get into the rhythm, I put my right
hand over his cock and he gasps.
“Shhhh,” I manage to say as I start pulling on it, slowly at first, then picking up the rhythm.
He’s breathing hard, but doesn’t make another sound, even as he nears climax. And I try to get us there
as quickly as possible. His head drops back and I feel his body quiver and I let go as well.
I start to pull out of him, but he reaches out and wraps his arms around my back, holding me in place. I
know this gesture so well. So, I stay inside of him a little while longer, pressing against him, our sweat
soaking both of our shirts. I kiss his earlobe and neck as I wrap my arms around him.
“I do,” I whisper.
The End.
Perfect
“Justin!”
“Brian!”
He thrusts harder inside of me and I moan when his cock hits my prostate.
“God!”
He slides in and out, wrapped in my legs. Our bodies pressed tightly together. My cock caught between
our sweaty, hard stomachs. I’m close. I’m so fucking close, and it takes every inch of self-control to let
him go on. Because I don’t want this to end. Not yet. Don’t want this connection to be over. Because
the moment he pulls away from me, I feel empty, almost hollow, aching for that connection once again.
He slows down, giving us a moment to catch our breath and prolonging it just a little longer. I look up
into his open eyes that are staring down at me with such intensity; it feels like he’s looking beyond my
skin and bones and straight into my soul.
He breathes hard, his mouth half open, and the hot air hits my face. His red swollen lips are only inches
away from mine and it’s complete torture not to have them in my mouth. I reach out with my hand,
pulling his head toward me, and the hunger for his mouth, his tongue, for HIM only intensifies. I want to
feel him. Not his dick in my ass. Not his tongue in my mouth. HIM. All of him. I wrap my arms around
his back, pressing him closer to me, my aching cock sending S.O.S. signals from somewhere beneath
him. And I have to try even harder to mold our bodies together. So, that just for a fleeting moment, we
can become one, not just physically, but all encompassing.
He kisses me again, hard. And then starts to move inside me again, picking up the rhythm. I know that I
won’t be able to hold out for much longer. Everything else gets fuzzy, almost non-existent. It’s just him
and me and this feeling of something…something so immensely private and sacred and…and so
completely ours.
We cum only moments later and he collapses on top of me. And that’s when I feel it. His heart beating
in rhythm with mine, my chest rising as we try to catch our breath, his dick still inside of me. In this
moment, he’s a part of me.
“I love you,” I say against his forehead.
He pushes himself up just enough to see my face.
“I love you too, Brian.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
Vacation according to Brian Kinney: fucking, fucking, fucking, and, oh yeah, more fucking.
Vacation according to Justin Taylor: parasailing, scuba diving, snorkeling, eating, sleeping, windsurfing,
swimming, eating, sleeping, diving, and, oh, yeah, fucking.
I swear, if he comes up with one more thing to do INSTEAD of fucking, I’m going to throw him out the
balcony. Then I’ll fish him out of the pool, bring him back in here, lock the fucking doors, and tie him to
the bed for the rest of our stay. I tell him as much when he barges inside the room.
“Hmmm, kinky,” he smirks, plopping down on the bed next to me. “Maybe we should give it a try.”
I look him over, tongue in cheek, considering it for a moment. “Go find a rope and let me finish this up.”
I get back to my laptop, knowing he’s got a frown on his face without even looking at him.
“You said you weren’t going to work while we were here.”
“This isn’t work. I’m just checking my email.”
He looks over my shoulder. “Looks like work to me.” He reaches his hand out and pushes the laptop
close.
“Justin,” I warn him.
“Don’t Justin me. THIS is a vacation. You’re supposed to RELAX. NOT work. That means, no emails, no
work related conversations, or thoughts for that matter.” He pushes me down on the bed and lies on
top of me. And all thoughts of work fly right out my head. What can I say? The boy’s persistent.
But first things first. I push him off me, then prop myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. “What
do you say we pack our stuff and get the fuck out of here tomorrow morning?”
He narrows his eyes at me, obviously confused. Poor, little boy. “What the fuck are you talking about?
We’ve got another…”
His voice trails off when I hold two tickets in front of his face.
“What’s this?”
He takes the tickets from me and reads what it says. But instead of pouncing on me, ready to thank me
for his Christmas gift in all the different ways I’ve imagined ever since I picked up the tickets from my
travel agent, he stares daggers at me. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man by now.
“It’s for only five days. That way we have plenty of time to get back home before you have to start
school again.”
He doesn’t say a word.
“Think of all the food you’ll be able to eat. Those ships are like Old Country Buffet, open twentyfour/seven, only with better food.” I’m grasping at straws at this point.
But he just glares at me. NOT a good sign.
I did prepare myself for the possibility of screaming and yelling, since I did the one thing I was NOT
allowed to do under any circumstances. But I figured that as soon as I dangle a five-day cruise in front of
his pretty blue eyes, he’d get over it.
But he doesn’t get over it. He puts the tickets on the bedside table and without another word gets up
and leaves the room.
Well….
Fuck!
~~~***~~~***~~~
Three hours and two packed suitcases later he’s still a no show. Since his passport and plane tickets are
in the room, I assume he’s still on the island, so after preparing myself for the Taylor wrath I am bound
to experience, I go down to look for him.
He’s sitting on the steps leading down to the beach, watching the sunset. I watch him from behind,
hating not being able to see his face at this moment. I can only imagine how he’d look with pinks and
reds dancing on his face.
I take a deep breath and make myself move forward to face the music. He doesn’t even look up at me
when I sit next to him. I look at him and a smile creeps across my face. I was right. He looks fucking
incredible during sunset.
The minute we stepped off the plane, we were assaulted from all sides by guys wanting to fuck him, me,
both of us. Mostly Justin, though. I can see them practically drooling every time he passes them by the
pool. But he doesn’t even look. That’s not why we’re here, he said. It was another thing that we
weren’t going to do here. THIS was about us, so no tricking. Which was fine by me, since I’d have a
willing and more than able partner in bed every night. Justin was right, though. This was…IS…about us.
“Well, that’s one way of getting me to watch a sunset with you.” I try my luck.
Shit. He doesn’t even crack a smile. Just sighs, loudly.
“Justin…”
“You promised.”
I stare down at my feet. I did.
He stands up and walks down the stairs.
“I don’t get it. What’s the big fucking deal?” The best defense is offense, right?
Justin throws his hands up in the air. “Of course you don’t. You just DON’T get it, Brian. You NEVER get
it. This is all just one big fucking joke to you, isn’t?! It doesn’t matter that there’s two of us in this
relationship. No! You still make all the decisions yourself and I’m supposed to just go along with
whatever it is Lord Kinney comes up with this week. Well, I’m not some kept boy who has no opinions
or thoughts of his own.”
“I never said you were!” I stand up and make my way down the stairs as well.
“Well, that’s what you imply every time you pull shit like this.” He sighs and looks away. I just stand
quietly waiting for the next part to follow. He finally turns around. “Don’t you get it? This wasn’t about
a five-star hotel or having the most expensive suite or any of that shit. This was me doing something for
you, for us. Me finally giving something back to you.”
“Giving something back to me?” What the fuck? “Justin, you don’t owe me anything.”
He studies my face carefully, then laughs, as if I just said the dumbest thing in the world. “Of course I
do. I owe you everything. My art. My education. My life, literally.”
What? Where the fuck is this coming from? Yes, we’d joke about this occasionally. But I never thought
he’d take it seriously.
“This was my chance to do something for you for once,” he continues with his rant. “But you, you just
had to do what you always do, whatever YOU want. To hell with everybody else. Well, that’s not how it
works, Brian. There are two of us in this relationship. TWO. There are TWO votes for any decision that
needs to be made, not ONE. I’m your lover, your…partner. I have a say in this too.”
He’s actually serious about this?
“Are you finished?”
He looks at me, as if suddenly realizing that I’m actually standing there.
“Can I speak now?”
He huffs, not happy in the least with the nonchalant look on my face, but nods and gives me the goahead.
I take a step toward him. I need him to hear this, to hear ME.
“This is such a load of crap,” I practically laugh.
Ok, not the best start, but I had to get that out of the way first. His eyebrows go up, almost amused at
my reaction. He thought he’d backed me into a corner and I’d get down on my knees and beg his
highness for forgiveness for being such a bad boy. Well, he has something else coming.
“You think I wake up in the morning and think of ways to make you OWE me? I didn’t do this so you’d
OWE me, Justin. I didn’t do any of it to make you owe me. I have money, you don’t. So what? I can
afford this, you can’t. Who gives a shit? You feel less of a man when I do it? Well, you’re just going to
have to live with it. I’m not going to apologize for wanting to do something for you, for us.”
I know I’ve said too much already, but if I don’t make it clear now, I never will. And I have to make sure
he understands.
“Do you think I came here for my own health? If I want a tan, I’ll go to a tanning salon. If I want to get
laid, I’ll go to the baths. If I want to rest, I’ll go to bed. I’m HERE because of YOU. Because I want to be
with you. Because I want to make YOU happy. And if you don’t like that, well, tough shit.”
Ok, so that was a little too clear for my taste. The next thing I know, he’s going to talk me into a
commitment ceremony, God forbid.
He stares at me. Through me. And all I can do is stand there and wait. Wait for him to see for himself
that what I just said is the actual truth and not some lame attempt to get him in bed.
“Ok,” he finally says.
Excuse me? Did I just not pour my heart and soul out to him? And all he says is ‘ok?’
“Ok,” I say for the lack of anything better I can muster from my vocabulary at the moment.
I finally see that gorgeous mouth turn up in a small smile. “Would it be really corny if I kissed you right
now?” he asks.
I snort. There’s white sand, blue water, and the most incredible sunset surrounding us. I just finished
telling my lover exactly how much he has me wrapped around his pretty little finger. “I don’t think it can
get any cornier than this.”
He grins. “Good,” he says and leaps into my arms.
Now this…this I can handle. I cover his lips with mine, wrapping my arms around his body.
“You’re still going to be punished,” he murmurs into my ear as I start exploring his neck with my tongue.
“I counted on that,” I reply, returning my attention back to his pink mouth. “But, not before we pack.”
He pulls away a little, cocks an eyebrow at me and smirks. “I figured you’d have us all packed and
checked out by now.”
Smart little fucker.
“Yeah, well, I needed to do something with my hands while you were basking in the glory of your drama
queen moment.”
He scoffs. “I’m sure you could have found a way to keep your hands busy if you put your mind to it.”
“I thought about that.”
He gives me the ‘oh, really’ look.
“But nobody measured up.”
He smiles at me with one of his patented Sunshine smiles. Who needs to watch a fucking sunset when
they’ve got the most beautiful smile in front of him?
“Oh, my poor little abandoned baby.”
“Hey, I resent “the little” part.”
The little shit laughs out loud as he hops up the stairs, taking two steps at the time. “Prove it.”
I stare up at him, taking in the way his hair looks during dusk, the way his eyes shine, reflecting the
setting sun and the sparkling water, storing it in my memory for later. Then follow him up the stairs.
~~***~~~***~~~
Caribbean cruise according to Brian Kinney: fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking, and, oh, yeah, more
fucking.
Caribbean cruise according to Justin Taylor: swimming, lying on the sun, swimming, eating, sleeping,
swimming, eating, sleeping, and, oh, yeah, fucking.
I thought that with the limited options that came with being stuck on the boat for five days, even if the
boat is bigger than the size of a city block, would make the boy realize what he’s SUPPOSED to be doing
on vacation instead of doing everything else and neglecting his loving partner. Yeah, right. Justin’s been
running all over the ship, getting involved in every fucking ridiculous activity they have on this damn
tugboat. And let me tell you, they’re really good at keeping little gay boys occupied at all times. What
the fuck did I expect with three pools, two whirlpools, and an all you can eat buffet that’s open ALL day
long.
On top of which, the shower is barely big enough for one person, so any ideas I had about fucking my
little red lobster after he finally found his way back to our room had to be put on hold ‘till we got back
on land.
“What are you reading?”
I look up from the paper listing all of our fun and exciting activities for the next day that they push under
our door every night and take in the sight before me. A towel loosely wrapped around his hips, his body
covered in tiny droplets of water, his wet hair sticking out in different directions. My cock immediately
stands up in salute to the mothership.
“They’ve got strip bingo tomorrow at two,” I say, putting the paper down on the nightstand.
He snickers as he flops on top of me, soaking my shirt with parts of his body that are still wet from the
shower. “They do not.”
“You don’t believe me? Read it for yourself.”
I pretend to reach for the paper, but he catches my hand and brings it back to my chest. I can feel his
hard on rubbing against mine. Well, well, well, guess who’s ready to come out and have some real fun.
He looks me in the eye, serious expression on his face, then leans down and kisses me. Not a hungry,
lust-filled kiss. No. It’s so soft and tender; you’re left wondering if your lips felt it at all, while every inch
of your body screams for more.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
I don’t ask what he’s thanking me for. Don’t need to. He’s having the time of his life, and as much as I
bitch and whine about him being a busy bee on this trip, I wouldn’t have it any other way. And he
knows it.
I cup his face with my hand, running my thumb along his cheek, still amazed at the smoothness of his
skin. It’s dead quiet, the only sound in the room are our two heartbeats, as we stare into each other’s
eyes, content for a moment to just lie here, arms around each other.
It doesn’t take long, though, before the urge, the need for more becomes impossible to contain. I roll
him over on his back, sprawling on top of him, blanketing his body with mine.
“Brian,” he whispers, letting me know that he needs me just as much as I need him.
I cover his lips with mine, my tongue moving slowly inside his mouth, as my hands massage his chest.
He reaches out to run his hands against my sides, but I push his hands away. This is about him.
Tonight’s about him. The whole trip is about him. I pin his arms to the bed, kissing him once again,
more powerfully this time. Then I sit up, while straddling his legs, and quickly remove my shirt. Now,
it’s his turn. I open the towel slowly, as if unwrapping a gift. And what a gift it is. I’m greeted with his
hard on thanking me for being set free from under the rough surface of the towel.
I move my hands up and down his thighs, careful not to touch Justin’s cock. I smile when I hear a slight
whimper from the top of the bed. You’d think after dealing with me for the past three years he’d learn
some patience.
I sprawl on top of him again, rubbing his hard on with mine, still caged inside my jeans. His breathing is
already jagged, but I’m not done yet. I kiss him, softly, fighting the urge to devour him whole. He
groans as I move away again.
“Brian.”
My lips find his neck once again, while my hands rummage around for his cock, wet with precum.
“Brian,” he moans again as I move down his body slowly, until my mouth replaces my hand and covers
the head of his leaking cock.
~~~***~~~***~~~
“Can you believe it’s already New Year?” Justin asks as he takes one last drag of his cigarette, then
throws it overboard. “Time just flies by.”
I shudder at that notion. “Don’t remind me.”
He turns, a smile on his face. “Oh, my poor OLD man.”
Old? Fucking twat. “You know, it won’t be too hard to convince everybody that you just slipped and fell
overboard.”
He gives me another one of his shit-eating grins.
“Champagne?” A waiter comes over, carrying a tray with glasses filled with the bubbly.
“Thank you,” Justin, always the polite one, takes two, handing me one. “It’s almost time.”
I nod, not saying anything. Instead, I watch him, staring out into the darkness of the ocean, while
listening to the crowd inside. And at that moment, the instance when the clock starts counting down
another year I realize it. This is the only place I want to be. Standing next to him, staring out in the
darkness, ready for whatever’s to come next; not afraid, not running anymore. Because this…this is
perfect.
“Happy New Year, Brian.”
I smile, as I lean down to kiss him.
The End.
Reach
Michael:
It’s déjà vu all over again. We’re in Babylon – where else would we be. The music is as loud as ever, the
men are as hot as always, and Brian is – Brian again. And I don’t mean, the new and improved Brian that
actually admits to having a boyfriend in public. No, this is the Brian we all came to love and accept so
long ago. Well, some of us, anyway. This is the Brian Kinney, king of Liberty Avenue. Back in business
once again. Boyfriendless. Once again.
I watch him down yet another shot of Jim Beam. It is so obvious how hard he’s trying to pretend that
he’s ok. That he doesn’t miss Justin at all. Just like he did the first time they went through this ordeal.
Except, this time around Brian’s act isn’t fooling anybody. Least of all me. Maybe he’s not good at it
anymore. Or maybe he showed all of us too much of himself to be able to fool us into thinking that it
was all a lie. I don’t know. The point is – I know that it’s killing him inside.
“Brian, I think you’ve had enough,” I tell him. What can I say? The worried wife routine, as Brian likes to
call this…whatever, it’s in me. I can’t not take care of him. Or at least try to. I think when we’re old and
grey and are stuck in the old queer folks home I’ll still be telling him to take his meds and drink plenty of
fluids.
“I think I haven’t had nearly enough,” he replies. “The night’s young, Mikey. What do you say?” he
holds a popper to my nose.
“Take that shit away from me.” I try to get the popper out of his hand. He doesn’t need it either.
“You’ve got work tomorrow.”
“Your point being?” He stares at me, as if expecting me to say something else that would sound
suspiciously like my mother.
But I don’t. I just take a step back and watch him self-destruct in front of me. This is the only way he
knows how to deal and I don’t really know how to help him, other than just stand next to him and make
sure he gets home ok.
For a while there I didn’t have to do that.
For a while there, Justin made sure Brian was ok.
For a while there Brian was better than ok.
And now…
Nobody knows what happened between them. There are speculations, tiny pieces of information that
we were able to put together from conversations with Brian and Justin. They’re not telling us much,
though. All we know is that one day Brian showed up at the diner without his usual companion. And
ma said that Justin was staying at Daphne’s for a little while.
That was it. We asked, we prodded, some of us even begged for any sort of explanation, but none
came. Brian and Justin were over. Again. Although, this time it appeared it wasn’t another fiddler. It
was just…life.
That was over two months ago. Two months of barely any contact between the two of them. Which
surprised even me. I’ll admit, the first time when they broke up, I expected Justin to just leave. To
disappear. But he didn’t. He stayed in our lives. In Brian’s life. And Brian wanted it that way. He went
out of his way to make sure they were in each other’s lives.
Not this time. They might have had a few chance meetings at the diner, but other than that – no
communicado at all. Which only proves that this time it really might be over.
I look over at Brian when I hear his phone ring, which in this place is a miracle in and of itself. He might
have it set up on really loud. Or maybe my ears have just gotten used to the loud noise after all this
time. In any case, Brian answers the phone, yelling a loud ‘what?’ into the phone. I have no idea how
he’s able to hear anything at all, but I know he does. Whoever is on the other side, the news is not
good. Because Brian’s face turns grim. He hangs up and immediately turns to leave.
“Brian, what’s wrong?” I call after him.
He doesn’t stop and he’s too fucking fast for me. By the time I make it outside, the only thing I can see is
the wheels spinning on his car as he drives away.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Emmett:
“I’m worried,” I hear Michael say for like a gazillionth time this morning during our usual morning threeway. Teddy, me, and Michael on the phone.
“Sweetie, he probably just remembered he had company coming,” I say as I finish folding the new
shipment of the most incredible silk shirts.
“And coming and coming,” Teddie adds.
I laugh, but even though I can’t see Michael, I know he’s not amused.
“No, something happened,” Michael says.
“Well, why don’t you call him?” Teddie says, even though we both know that there are already about
twenty messages on Brian’s answering machine by now.
“I did. He’s not answering the phone.”
“I’m sure he’s just sleeping off the things he was freely putting in his mouth last night,” I try to be
comforting. “And I’m not just talking about numerous dicks.” I sigh. It’s sad to see Brian revert to that.
Not that he stopped tricking. But it was different when he was with Justin. Yes, he tricked. They both
did. But it wasn’t…it wasn’t a way of life for him. Like it is now. If he saw a pretty piece of meat, he got
it. But it was obvious that he was saving the best for his golden boy.
Now…
I sigh again. I turn around when I hear the door open and my mouth immediately spreads into a grin.
“Sweetie,” I exclaim, completely forgetting that I still have Teddie and Michael on the phone.
“Hi, Em.” Justin smiles at me.
“Gotta go, boys,” I say into the headset and hang up before they have a chance to say anything else. I
walk over to Justin, hug him and kiss him on the cheek. “We haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
“I know,” he says, “I’ve been busy.”
I watch him and it pains me to say that even though he’s got that bright smile on his face, he’s hurting. I
mean, really hurting. And once again I wonder what exactly happened that caused them to call it quits.
“Too busy for your good old friend?” I say, accusingly, adding a little pout to the mix. Hey, guilt is the
best weapon. I learned that from Debbie. Seems, Italian and Jewish women have the right idea. I won’t
be converting to Judaism any time soon, but I am trying to perfect that art.
It works like a charm.
“Sorry,” he says. I know he’s genuine about it, but something’s missing. For one, he keeps avoiding my
gaze. For another – he’s trying way too hard to appear happy.
“Baby, is everything ok?” I ask, moving closer to him.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he replies, running his fingers over the black silk shirt that I had just folded.
“Everything’s fine,” he says again, finally raising his eyes to mine.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I say with relief.
“Why wouldn’t I be fine?”
“Well,” I shrug, not sure if I should tell him about Brian. From Michael and Debbie I know that since
their split, they have only seen each other a couple of times – briefly. “Last night Brian got this
mysterious call and ran out of Babylon as if the devil himself was chasing him.”
Justin frowns, concern written all over his face.
“I was just worried that maybe it had something to do with you, that’s all.” He’s really one of the very
few people who could get Brian to drop everything and run to him. “But I’m glad to see that you are
ok.”
“I am,” he confirms again. “Uhm…” He looks away, then back at me and it’s so obvious he wants to ask.
I don’t make him, though.
“No, we don’t know what happened. Michael has been trying to get a hold of him, but to no avail.”
“Right,” he nods. “Well, I should…” He points to the door.
“Already? But you just got here.” No, that wasn’t guilt. That was just me missing my baby terribly.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just – I had a little time before I had to go to class so I thought I’d drop by. But I
should really go now.” He gives me a small peck on the lips and just like he had appeared, he’s gone.
~~***~~~***~~~
Lindsay:
The moment I walk in through the big steel door I know something’s wrong. No, the sight of Brian hung
over and a complete mess isn’t anything new. And the sight of him trying to cover up the fact that he’s
completely miserable without Justin is becoming a norm as well. But something else is wrong.
Something is different about him this morning.
“I hope we’re not too early,” I say, putting Gus down and closing the door behind us. Brian’s already in
the kitchen, making coffee.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asks without even turning around.
As soon as I take Gus’s jacket off, he sprints toward Brian, as usual. I watch as Brian picks him up and
the father and son share kisses – a sight that makes me believe every time that I made the right choice
when I had asked Brian to be the father.
“Gus and I decided to take the day off,” I respond. Putting the bag with Gus’ things and his jacket on
one of the stools, I take a seat at the counter.
Just as I do, the phone rings. Brian doesn’t even glance in its direction. Instead, he whispers something
in Gus’s ear and I see my son giggle. It always amazes me how Brian can always do that. Make him
laugh just like that.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?” I ask when his cell phone begins to ring as well.
“No,” he simply says, putting Gus down and turning to pick up the pot of steaming coffee.
“Could be important.”
“Mikey being a mother-hen is never important,” he responds.
So, something is wrong. Michael can get overprotective when it comes to Brian, but he only goes into
super-mothering mode when something is terribly wrong. “What happened now?”
“What makes you think something happened?” he asks, his back still turned to me.
“Because I know you, Brian.”
He finally turns to me. “I wish people would quit assuming they know me.”
“What’s going on?” I ask again. “Did something happen with Justin?”
His whole appearance changes instantly, his body tensing up. “Why is it that every time something goes
wrong in my life, everybody immediately thinks it has something to do with Justin?”
“Because it usually does,” I point out.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Maybe you should talk to him.” I know I’m treading dangerous waters here and any wrong move could
send me deep into the black abyss, but I have to try.
“What for?”
“To make things right again.”
He sighs loudly, his frown deepening. “Things are right again. It’s over. Don’t you get it? It’s fucking
over. We’ve wasted enough of each other’s time. It’s time to move on.”
“That’s what you think? That you wasted time?”
“Well, what else would you call it?”
“I’d call it being in love.”
He grimaces at the word, as predicted. “I told you once before, I never…”
“Loved him?” I finish for him. “Well, you certainly did a good imitation of it.”
He looks away, then back at me. “Just drop it, Linds.”
“Brian, I…”
“Drop it,” he says more forcefully.
And I do. I let it drop and just drink my coffee quietly.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Daphne:
As soon as I close the door behind me and my eyes fall on the sitting statue of what once was my best
friend, I know that something’s wrong. Not just the usual wrong – him moping over Brian. No.
Something is seriously bothering him.
“You ok?” I ask, dropping my backpack on the floor.
He just sighs loudly and continues to stare at the opposite wall. The wall is empty, just white paint, so
there is definitely nothing interesting that he could be focusing on there. But he still keeps looking.
Nothing new there. He’s been doing that for over two months now. Sighing loudly. Staring into empty
space. Lost in his own little world. For the most part I leave him be. He knows I’m here if he wants to
talk. He rarely does.
“Justin?” I try again, sitting next to him.
“Hmmm?”
Finally, he looks at me.
“Something happen?”
His eyes drop to the floor, lingering there for a few seconds before shifting back to the wall. “I think
something’s wrong with Brian.”
My curiosity is immediately peaked. This is the first time he’s mentioned Brian in weeks.
“You saw him?”
He shakes his head.
“Then how do you know?”
“I saw Emmett today. He said that Brian was at Babylon last night.”
“Well, that hardly seems out of the ordinary,” I try to point out.
“Emmett said that he got a call and left really quickly. He said that Brian looked like something was
seriously wrong. They even thought something happened to me.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. “Emmett’s almost as big a drama queen as you are,” I try my hand at a
joke. It falls on deaf ears, though. “Come on, it could be anything. Doesn’t necessarily mean something
bad.”
He shakes his head again. “I called Michael. He hadn’t heard from Brian all day.”
“Well, did you try calling Brian directly?” What? It’s a reasonable question to ask. Well, maybe not in
this situation.
When Justin showed up on my doorstep that night over two months ago, I thought it was temporarily. I
mean, I’ve been through this routine before – they have a fight, they take some time to cool off, then
they kiss and make up. Of course they do a lot more than just kissing when they’re making up, but
that’s not important at the moment. The point is, Justin and Brian are the never-ending story. Or at
least they were.
But as the day turned into a week and now months – I’m starting to wonder.
Justin and I never officially discussed him moving in here. It just sort of happened. At first he said he
didn’t want to see anybody else. Then it turned into the whole not-wanting-to-run-into-Brian thing,
even though Brian rarely graced Debbie’s house with his presence. Still, my place was safer. That’s
what Justin said. My guess is that my place was just easier. No memories. No connection to Brian
whatsoever. As if that somehow can make the pain he’s feeling go away.
But what’s a girl to do? The only thing I can do is be here for him.
He turns and looks at me as if I just said the most preposterous thing. And I’m sure to him it seems that
way.
“Oh, come on, Justin, just pick up the phone and call him.” Sometimes tough love is the only way to go.
“I can’t,” he says, his voice barely audible.
“Why not? Look, I’m sure that whatever it is that he did to cause you guys to break up was as bad as
you think and all, but maybe you should give him another chance.”
Alright, so I have no idea what it is that Brian did. I’ve been trying to get that information out of Justin
for so damn long, I nearly gave up. Nearly. All I know is that it had to be bad. I mean, really bad.
Because, let’s face it, as many times as Brian had fucked up, Justin was pretty much used to almost
anything.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he says and gets off the couch.
I call after him but he just ignores me and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Justin:
Call him. Call him. Call him. That’s all I want to do. To pick up the goddamn phone and dial his number.
I just want to hear his voice. To make sure that he’s alright. Fucking Emmett. Why couldn’t he just keep
his fucking mouth shut? Doesn’t he know? I don’t care what happens to Brian anymore. We’re not
together. We broke up. We’re over.
Yeah, I keep telling myself that. As if after all this time I still haven’t learned one astoundingly painful
and important fact – IT. DOESN’T. WORK.
I still care. Fuck. I still care. And it’s killing me. Not knowing what’s going on his life. How he is. Where
he is. Who he’s with. All the questions that are none of my business anymore.
Scary how quickly things change.
Less than six months ago I thought I was in heaven. Sometimes it felt that way. Everything was just
perfect. We came back from our trip and things just – I never thought anything could be better than
being on vacation with Brian – just the two of us. But it was. Better. Just doing the day-to-day things
with him. Just regular, normal life things.
The fact that we both fucked around was known to everybody. It wasn’t something that ever bothered
me. I never even thought about it. We agreed not to throw it into each other’s face. That was the only
rule. If we felt like company, we both had to agree. Other than that – out of sight, out of mind. That
was our motto. And it worked. Perfectly. How often Brian tricked? I don’t know. I don’t care. It
wasn’t important. Because when he was with me, he was with me. He was completely mine. And I was
his. I knew that. I never once had a doubt in my mind about his feelings for me.
One Sunday afternoon we were hanging out at the loft – just doing nothing – my favorite activity. And
he dropped the bomb on me. He told me to move in.
Ok, now I know that laughter was not the reaction he was looking for, but fuck…this is Brian we’re
talking about. How was I supposed to know that he was actually serious? He would never in a million
years ask that. That’s what I thought. I laughed it off and he joined me in it. And things went back to
normal, right?
Right. Except – things changed. Brian just changed. Not really changed as much as he just started to
pull away. Slightly. It was barely noticeable. It was just tiny little things. Like from time to time he’d tell
me he was busy when we already made plans to spend an evening together. Little things like that.
I let them slide. I mean, after everything that we’ve been through, being stood up a few times didn’t
seem to matter.
Then about two months ago – a little more than that – we were out with Gus at the park. Gus was
playing with some kids he knew while we sat on the bench, laughing at the fact that we looked like a
couple of old married queers. I’m sure Brian loved that comparison. But he only laughed harder.
That was the last time I heard him laugh.
He said, “I guess you’re just gonna have to move in then.”
At first I laughed. I guess I had too much fresh air or something. But I just laughed. When I looked over
at him, I realized that he wasn’t joking. He was asking me to move back in with him. After all this time.
You’d think I would have jumped in his arms right there and then and kissed him all over and thanked
him and told him how much I loved him.
I didn’t. I just sat there, suddenly feeling very cold, even under the April sun. I didn’t know what to say.
Except…no.
Before I could say anything else, Brian was already walking away from me. I tried to explain, but he just
brushed it off in his usual fashion.
And everything once again returned to normal. Right. Not this time. I wouldn’t see or hear from him
for days. He had completely pulled away from me, completely shut me out. And I understood. I did. I
hurt him with my answer. So, I figured I’d give him some time. He’d get over it eventually.
Which he did. Or so I thought. A few weeks after that unfortunate incident in the park, he showed up
at the diner – looking as hot as ever, a smile on his face. He kissed me, we chitchatted about his day,
then my day, then about yet another contest at Babylon that he did not give a shit about. He said, come
over tonight. I said, ok. He kissed me and left.
For the rest of the day I felt like I could finally breathe easier. Things were once again ok. I couldn’t wait
for my shift to be over. As soon as eight o’clock came, I practically sprinted out of the diner. I got home,
took a shower, got dressed, and headed to the loft.
When I got there the door was open, which was unusual, since I still had my key. I walked and I
immediately knew what was going on. I should have left. I didn’t. It was like driving past a car wreck.
You don’t want to look, but you still do.
The loft was dark, the only light coming from the bedroom. I heard the panting before I even stepped
inside. Slowly I moved forward, with baited breath hoping that what I knew was happening wasn’t real.
That I somehow imagined it. Or it was just Brian jerking off because he couldn’t wait any longer for me.
Fuck. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t even remember how I got from the door to the bottom
of the steps leading up to the bedroom.
I remember his eyes on mine. Completely void of any emotion. I remember hearing his voice telling me
that he was busy, but I could schedule an appointment for another day. I remember just standing there
watching him fuck some guy. I remember seeing him kiss the trick.
I don’t remember how I left. I’m not really sure what happened after that. All I know is that somehow I
ended up at Daphne’s. And except for classes, my shifts at the diner, which I completely changed so I
would not run into him, I had not left the apartment.
About a week later when the initial shock wore off, I met him. In that same fucking park where it had all
began. He was already there, sitting on the bench, his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.
“Hey,” I said quietly as I sat down next to him. I probably should have been worried about crying in
front of him, but the fact was, I felt completely empty. I knew there wouldn’t be any tears, any
outbursts. I just didn’t have it in me.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes following me.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I said. Unable to look at him, I just watched some kids play in the
playground.
“I heard you’re staying at Daphne’s,” he started.
“Yeah, well, it’s...I…” I sighed. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“This. Small talk. Pretending as if everything is fine and dandy.”
He looked away, guiltily. I knew what he was expecting next. The ‘how could you?’ and ‘why, Brian?’
But it didn’t come. I didn’t have it in me anymore. And that surprised me as much as it did him.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked and I could hear the tiny quiver in his voice.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I just…I’m tired. I am so fucking tired.” It was the
truth. I was completely drained. I just didn’t have the energy to do it anymore. The second-guessing,
the stupid games, the whole deal. I was sick of it.
“Justin…”
I shook my head. I knew what was coming next. “Don’t.”
He looked at me, surprised and confused at the same time.
“Don’t apologize. And don’t explain why you did it. Because I know. I know why. I understand.”
He opened up to me. When he asked me to move back in with him he opened up to me more than he
had ever opened up to anybody else in his entire life. I know what my saying ‘no’ meant to him. How
much it must have hurt. I realize that now. And I knew it then. But he hurt me. So fucking much I
wanted to die.
“But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t have my heart stomped all over because you feel angry or you feel
hurt or you’re upset or just too fucking bored. I don’t want that. I deserve better than that.”
He stared straight ahead, staying perfectly still. The only sign that told me that he had heard me was
him clenching his jaw. He took a deep breath. Cleared his throat. “What are you saying?” His voice
was so quiet, I barely heard him.
I knew he didn’t expect it. Fuck, I didn’t expect it either. Going there to meet him, I did not for one
second think that it might have been the last time I’d ever talk to him. But there we were – once again
calling it quits.
“I don’t…I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” The moment the words were out of my
mouth, I felt cold. I mean, ice cold. Inside and out. And I knew that no amount of hot chocolate or
warm clothes and hot showers – nothing would ever be able to make me warm again.
He closed his eyes, opened them, refusing to look at me. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing
else to say anyway. I glanced one last time at him before getting up and leaving. The last thing I saw
was him sitting on the bench, head in his hands.
I ran into him a couple of times after that – in the diner, when by some bizarre reason he’d come in
when I was there. But I changed my schedule, planning it around the times when I knew he wouldn’t be
there.
Debbie wasn’t too happy. Every time she saw me, she was asking me when I was coming home. I didn’t
know what to say. I still don’t. I can’t explain it, but here at Daphne’s I just feel safer right now. She
doesn’t prod…well, yeah, she does, but she knows when to drop it. She knows what to say and when to
say it. And she knows when to shut up and just let me be.
I splash some water on my face and walk back out into the living room. Daphne’s not there. I hear
some noise coming from the kitchen, so I head over there.
“What are you doing?” I ask when I see her taking out a couple of bowls.
She turns and flashes me a smile. “We’re having a movie night.”
“We are.”
“Yes.”
The microwave beeps and I get a whiff of the popcorn. If she got popcorn, she means business.
“What are we watching?” When Daphne decides on a movie night, there’s no point in trying to get out
of it. It’s easier to just go along.
“Minority Report.”
I roll my eyes. “Not again. Come on, Daph, we’ve seen it like a hundred times.”
“Twenty-seven,” she corrects me. “And how often do you get to see Tom Cruise and Colin Farrell in a
movie together?”
I groan. “Twenty-seven times?”
She gives me the look. The one that says that I don’t have a prayer in heaven in changing her mind. So,
sighing loudly, I take out the bag of popcorn from the microwave while she fills our bowls with ice cream
and we go back to the living room.
We’re somewhere in the middle, watching Tom steal the girl when we hear a light knock on the door.
“Expecting somebody?” I ask as we both turn around.
Daphne shakes her head.
“Danny?” Daphne’s boyfriend.
“No, he’s at his parents’ tonight,” she responds.
“I’ll get it,” I say, getting up from the couch.
Opening the door, I come face-to-face with the person I least expected to find on the other side of my
door.
“Brian.” I stand there shell-shocked. I haven’t seen him in weeks. On top of that, I have been worried
sick about him all fucking day. And now…he’s here. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood?” It’s more of a question. As if he’s asking me whether this
excuse would pass for an answer. I let it slide. I’m more interested in knowing what’s going on.
I walk out and close the door behind me to give us some privacy. I look him over, taking in his
appearance. He’s wearing jeans and his leather jacket. He doesn’t appear to be drunk or high, but
something’s off.
He leans on the railing and looks at me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He snickers. “Zephyr’s on the mission to save Rage again, huh?”
I smile. “Yeah, I guess. He’s been looking everywhere for you. Everybody has.”
“Well, you can tell everybody I’m fine.”
“Maybe you could tell them,” I counter.
He sighs. “I’m so fucking tired of everybody wanting to know my business. Aren’t you tired of
everybody sticking their fucking noses where they don’t belong?”
I take a step closer. “Yeah, I guess.”
He nods and looks away, his gaze methodically avoiding me.
“What are you doing here, Brian?” I ask again, softer this time.
His eyes drop to the floor, then shift to meet mine. He shrugs his shoulders and puts his hands into the
pockets of his jacket.
And I have no idea what to say. So, I do the only thing I know and turn to leave.
“I got a call last night.”
I stop and turn around, waiting patiently for him to continue.
“From Clair.”
“What the fuck does she want now?” I ask, a little too harshly, probably. But the bitch only calls when
she needs something, usually money. And after everything his family has put him through, they should
leave Brian the fuck alone. “A kidney?”
“My mother had a stroke.” He says so matter-of-factly, it throws me off completely. And I just stand
there for what seems like forever, speechless.
“Brian…I’m sorry.”
He shrugs again. “When you start off every day with a nice shot of brandy, these things tend to
happen.”
I take a few steps toward him. “But still, she’s your mother, Brian.”
“Yeah, well, somebody should have reminded her of that fact.” He takes his hands out of his pockets
and grips the railing so tight, his knuckles turn white.
I’m not even sure how my hand gets up to the railing, but it’s there. It’s lying on top of his.
He’s surprised by it as much as I am. He looks at it – at the spot where our hands connect – then looks
at me. And we just stand like that – eyes locked on each other.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I’m drowning, getting lost in the hazel waves of his eyes. This was the reason I tried to get him out of my
life for good this time. Because seeing him, being near him – it’s impossible not to forget why I’m
here…and he’s…somewhere else.
I can’t do this. I know that. Fuck. As much as I want to pull him in my arms, I can’t. So, instead I pull my
hand away.
“Is she…” I clear my throat. “Is she gonna be ok?”
He shakes his head no.
I give him another lame “I’m sorry.” What else can I say? What else do you say in situations like these?
He turns away and starts walking down the stairs. And I have so much I want to say to him. So much I
want him to know. But the only thing I can come up with is “Brian.”
He stops and looks up at me. When I don’t say anything, he smiles.
“Later,” he says quietly.
And I feel my breath catch in my throat. That word – nobody would ever understand what that word
means to us, to me. It became a promise. That there will be a later. For us.
I nod my head slightly. “Later,” I whisper and then I watch him disappear down the stairs.
I hear the heavy door open and close and he’s gone. Just as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone again.
I’m not sure how long I stand there before I finally make myself move back inside the apartment.
Daphne’s still on the couch, the movie is paused on the same scene as when I left. She turns her head to
me. “Who was it?”
“Brian,” I respond, even though she already knows.
“What did he want?”
I walk back over to the couch and slump down heavily. “His mother is dying.” Fuck, just saying it makes
me shiver.
“Oh my God,” Daphne whispers. “Is he ok?”
I lean forward and hide my head in my hands. “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. He says he is, but with
Brian you just never know. Because he would never admit that inside he’s dying too.
“Well, what did he say?”
I inhale sharply and sit up. “Daph,” I snap at her. It’s not her fault, I know that, but I am just not in the
mood for twenty questions. “Leave it alone.” I get up and walk over to the table where the phone is
sitting. I pick up and dial the number of the comic book store. Brian needs somebody to be there for
him. It can’t be me. Not now. Maybe not ever. But Michael can. He always will be.
He answers on the second ring. I tell him everything I know and I can only hope that he finds Brian soon.
That’s all I can do for now. Hope that Brian will somehow make it through this just like he’s made it
through everything else in his life.
The next day I get a call from Michael telling me that Brian’s mother had died and that the funeral would
be the following afternoon.
“Are you gonna go?” Daphne asks me when I tell her.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea. Her son’s ex lover showing up at her funeral. I’m sure she would have loved
that.”
“But it’s not for her. It’s for Brian,” Daphne insists. “I’m sure he’ll need you there.”
I shake my head. Shows how much she knows. “Brian doesn’t need anybody.” The minute I say it, I
wonder how much of it is true and how much of it is me being bitter.
“Really? Could have fooled me,” she snarls.
“Leave it alone, Daph,” I warn her. Not really in the mood to have the same conversation yet again.
“No, you know what? I won’t leave it alone.” She walks over and sits next to me on the couch, her eyes
boring into me and I know there’s no escaping this.
“I’ve watched you for years now, going back and forth. You’re with Brian. Then you’re not. Then you’re
back with Brian. Then you’re not again. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what he does or what
happens, you two will always be in each other’s lives. Whether you like it or not, you’re connected.”
I snort. “You’re not gonna give me some lame fate shit, are you?”
“No,” she glares at me. Glares! I quickly shut up, knowing better than to speak up again. “What I’m
saying is that you love him, Justin. And yes, he hurt you. And I’m sure he deserved to be slowly burned
at the stake for that. But, that’s not important right now. He needs you.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she beats me to it.
“He needs you right now. It’s so obvious.”
“I told you…”
“Who did he go to when he found out about his mother?”
I look away. She’s right.
“He didn’t go to Michael. Or anybody else. He came to you. He told you first.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Whoever said that truth hurts was right. He came to me and I completely blew
him off.
“And even though he and his mother did not have the best relationship, she was still his mother,”
Daphne continues. “And he’ll need you to help him make it through the day.”
I open my eyes and look at her. She’s right yet again. How women always end up being right is
completely beyond me. But the fact is, they are. And now there is something I have to do.
I didn’t go to the funeral as Daphne said I should. There was some place else I had to be.
When I get there, he’s not home. It doesn’t surprise me. I consider waiting for him on the stairs, but it’s
too damn hot on the staircase, so I unlock the door with my keys and walk inside.
The loft is quiet and clean. No sign of bottles of Jim or beer lying around, no used condoms – no sign of
Brian’s usual pain management routine. It makes me feel a little better. Maybe Michael found him in
time, stayed with him last night.
Then again, maybe Brian just cleaned everything up this morning before he left the loft.
It doesn’t really matter what happened. It’s not important anymore and I am not going to dwell on it.
Instead I go over to the desk and look around for a piece of paper. I find my old sketchbook in one of
the drawers and pick up a pencil. Going over to the couch, I sit down and start sketching. I’m not really
sure what it is that I’m drawing. It’s not important either. I’m just waiting now.
It’s an hour later when I hear the elevator move. I put the sketchbook aside and get up. The door slides
open and I see Brian with some guy wrapped around him. That doesn’t surprise me either. I just lean
against the back of the couch and wait for Brian to notice me.
“Hey,” I say.
His head shots up, his eyes meeting mine and I can tell right away that he’s drunk, maybe high. Probably
both. A little early even for Brian, but then again, all things considered, not at all surprising.
“Who the fuck’s he?” the trick demands, giving me that superior look. “Your little brother?”
Brian just laughs as he pulls away from the guy, his eyes still locked on mine.
“I’m the guy he’s gonna be fucking,” I answer the trick, but my attention is on Brian. “As soon as you
leave,” I add, shifting my gaze to the trick as I look him over. At least Brian’s standards didn’t go away in
his grief. The guy’s hot. I didn’t expect anything less.
“Yeah, right,” the guy scoffs as he turns to Brian. “Would you tell the kid to get lost so we can get back
to business?”
“Fuck off,” I say, taking a step toward them.
The guy’s surprised and it takes him a moment to recover. “Beat it, kid,” he finally says. He puts his arm
around Brian’s neck, or tries to. Because Brian moves away from him.
“He said, fuck off,” I hear him say.
I can’t help but sneer at the trick.
“You’re gonna choose some kid over me?”
Brian snorts. “You couldn’t hold a candle to the kid.” He turns and looks at me briefly before walking
over to the door and sliding it open.
The trick lingers in his spot for a moment before finally moving toward the door.
“Asshole,” I hear him mumble as he walks past Brian.
Brian just slams the door shut right behind him.
And then we just stand there – me next to the couch and him by the door, staring at each other.
He’s the first one to break the eye contact. He walks over to the kitchen counter and tosses the keys
and his cell phone on it. “I figured you’d be at the funeral with the rest of our very well-meaning
friends.”
“I was going to, but…”
“But?” He turns around.
I shrug, taking another step closer. “But I knew you wouldn’t be there.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me, just like he always does when he’s amused by something I say. “Is that
right.”
“That’s right.” I’m standing so close to him now, I can smell the sweat on his body and the alcohol on his
breath. He was probably out all night. That’s why the loft is so clean. But that doesn’t matter.
He looks at me and all I can do is reach out and brush my hand against his cheek. He closes his eyes and
I wrap my other arm around his shoulders, drawing him close. His hands go around my waist and he
drops his head on my shoulder. I only hug him tighter.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that. Finally I pull away slightly and take his face in my hands. His
eyes glisten and I know he’s fighting with everything inside of him not to cry. Not because he doesn’t
want me to see, but because he believes that he can’t. Because his mother is not worth crying over.
And he’s right about that. But she was still his mother. And there is nothing I can say that could take
away his pain or make it any easier for him to handle.
Besides, Brian and I communicate best with our bodies, not words. It’s been that way from the
beginning. And that’s what I do. I draw his head down and kiss him. His mouth is dry and hot and
tastes like Jim Beam and somebody else, but I don’t think about that. I just pull him closer. Or try to.
Because he pulls away.
Now I’m the one left surprised.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
And I can’t help but smile. “Brian, when it comes to you, you never have to ask me that question.”
“No, I mean…” He moves away from me and leans against the post. “What you said before. You were
right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You deserve better.”
Fuck. It was a shitty thing of me to say, but it seems such a long time ago that we sat in that park on
that fucking bench and I was telling him that I didn’t want him anymore. “No. No, I don’t.”
“Justin…”
“I deserve you,” I say, wincing at how stupid it all sounds. “There’s no one better, Brian.”
He snorts at that.
I know what he’s thinking. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I could find thousands of guys who are easier
to deal with than you,” I say, taking a step closer to him. “But no one better.”
He smiles and leans in to kiss me again.
I hear his stomach rumbling.
“When was the last time you ate?” I ask.
He just shrugs. Figures.
“Come on,” I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen. “I brought supplies.”
“Supplies?” he snickers.
“Well, if we wanna hide from the rest of the world, we’re gonna need supplies.” Only logical. “I have
enough for about forty-eight hours.” I open the fridge and take out the big bag of groceries I brought
with me.
“I’m surprised you didn’t eat half of it by now,” Brian says as he examines the goodies.
“I ate before I left,” I reply and he grins at me.
We take the bag of food, a few bottles of beer, and Brian’s secret stash and take it over to the bed,
sprawling it all around us. I turn off the phones and for the next few hours the world doesn’t exist for
us. It’s just him and me – in our own little world – eating, drinking, getting high, and of course, fucking.
It’s after our second go at it that one thought springs in my head. “Can I ask you something?”
He turns to me and raises an eyebrow, patiently waiting for me to go on.
“When you asked me to move back in here, did you really mean it?”
He turns away and takes a slow drag out of the joint.
“I really don’t think this conversation is a good idea at this particular time,” he finally says.
He’s probably right, but I have to know. So, I shift onto my knees and crawl in between a wet towel and
a half-empty box of noodles to settle down between his long legs. I reach out and wrap my fingers
around the joint. He lets go and I bring it to my lips, slowly inhaling the smoke, our eyes locked onto
each other.
“Yeah, I meant it,” he says.
I nod and return the joint to him. “I’m sorry,” I say, because really it’s the only thing left to say right
now.
He just shrugs.
I scoot over to the side and lean back against the wall. “I got scared.”
Brian raises his gaze to mine and gives me a puzzled look. “Of what?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s just…things were going so well…” I sigh. “I was afraid of fucking it up.”
He snorts and I can’t help but laugh at that statement myself.
“Things were perfect…before…and I freaked. I guess…I guess I was afraid of change.” I didn’t want to
admit it, but it’s true. Me. Justin Taylor – fucking terrified of what change might bring. I used to make
fun of Brian for that all the time. When the fuck did our roles get switched around?
“The first two times we lived together didn’t exactly end well. I was afraid it would get fucked up again.”
Brian nods, contemplating my words for a moment. “I don’t think we need to live together in order to
fuck up,” he says. “We do a fabulous job of that all on our own. The last two months are a proof of
that.”
I smile at that. We both fucked up. As usual. I’m just glad I realized that early enough before I lost him
completely.
“So, are you still up for it?” I ask.
His gaze, as predicted, travels down to my dick, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
“Not that,” I say, laughing. I know that we’ll be doing that soon enough. Whoever said that make up sex
is the hottest sex you can ever have, was right.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, studying my face for a moment, trying to figure out if I’m serious about it
this time. I’m not gonna laugh, Brian. I swear.
“Aren’t you scared?” he asks and I’ll be damned if I didn’t hear a quiver in his voice.
I move closer and take his face in between mine, lean down and kiss him softly. “Fucking terrified,” I
reply honestly.
Brian raises his hand and puts it on the back of my head. Pulling my head down, he covers my lips with
his, his kiss a lot more powerful than mine. I know what he’s trying to say – something that he’d never
admit out loud, but what I know to be true – he’s fucking terrified too. And it feels good – to know that
we both feel the same.
He pushes me down on my back and crawls on top of me, his tongue fiercely exploring the inside of my
mouth.
Just then I hear a soft ringing coming from somewhere in the bedroom.
Brian pulls away and groans. “I thought you turned off all the phones.”
“I did,” I say. Then I remember. Fuck. “I forgot mine.”
Brian grumbles while I rummage through a pile of our clothes lying next to the bed in search of my
phone. Finally, my hand comes into contact with something hard and I pull it out of the back pocket of
my pants. I look down at the caller id, then back at Brian. “Two guesses who.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I only need one.” He sits up and reaches out and takes the phone from me,
switching it off. And then his lips are back on mine, his hands pushing me down on my back.
“Maybe you should talk to him. Let him know you’re ok,” I try to make one last effort. “Let him know
we didn’t commit a joint suicide.”
Brian shakes his head. “If I do, they’ll all be here in less than fifteen minutes, knocking on my fucking
door.”
I snicker. “You think they’ll knock?” People have been known to just come and go as they please in this
place.
Brian smiles at me before devouring my mouth with his. End of discussion.
He nudges me to roll over on my stomach and I do as commanded. What comes next is the world’s
most famous rimming job. My breath catches in my throat as I feel his slick tongue slowly slide down
my back. By the time it reaches my ass hole, I’m ready to fucking explode, and Brian knows it. He
knows me so fucking well.
By the time he’s done torturing me and I’m about ready to scream at the top of my fucking lungs how
much I need him inside me, I feel him shift and reach for the condom and lube. And all I can do is thank
the higher power and lie in anticipation of the main event.
I gasp as I feel the tip of his cock against the opening of my hole. Slowly, with precision Brian slides
inside me and for a moment, just one brief moment before he begins to thrust – he’s a part of me.
~~~***~~~***~~~
Brian:
It’s strange how fast we get used to certain things. It’s even stranger how long it fucking takes for us to
forget about them. To stop expecting them. To stop waiting for a call in the middle of the day because
he always called you right after he got out of class. To stop looking for him in the crowd at Babylon on
Thursday nights because that’s when he always came out because he didn’t have any morning classes on
Fridays. To stop remembering his schedule in the first place. To stop reaching for him first thing in the
morning.
Before you even open your eyes, you reach for him. And when your hand finds only the cold sheets, you
have to remind yourself that he spent the night at home, or he stayed over at Daphne’s, or that…you
haven’t seen him in two months.
The same thing happens now. Before I even open my eyes, I roll on my side and reach out for him,
expecting him to be there. But just like for the last two months – he’s not. My eyes snap open and my
brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out why instead of warm smooth skin my hand is clutching silk
sheets.
I collapse on my back and run my hands through my hair, trying to remember what happened. I know
he was here. I didn’t imagine that. And I wasn’t drunk enough or high enough to fucking black out. He
was here. All day long. He was here when I got back with the trick. I’m not even sure where I picked
the guy up. Or how many I’ve had before him.
All I remember from the day before is that the moment I walked inside the loft, all I could see was Justin.
Leaning against the fucking couch, staring at me with those fucking intensely blue eyes of his. They
weren’t judging, they weren’t pitying me. I saw what I always see when he looks at me.
Something…indescribable. Something that you can’t just put a label on. No word could define it –
especially not some meaningless four-letter one.
When I saw him, I knew he was here to stay. The little break he took, it was over now. And I couldn’t
help but think that maybe he shouldn’t have come back. After all, how many fucking times have I hurt
him? Too many. He knows it. I know that. The whole fucking world knows it. Nobody would blame
him for walking away. Least of all, me. But yet there he was, his arms wrapping around me, his lips
touching mine. And all I wanted to do was disappear inside him.
How many times have we done this?
When I was a kid I used to love roller coasters. The adrenaline rush was like no other. Mikey screaming
like a fucking girl and thus providing me with an eternal source of jokes was an added bonus. I felt like it
was me challenging the world, challenging God. As if to say, here I am. You say I’m not supposed to be
here? Not supposed to exist? Well, here, try and get rid of me now. I guess HE decided it was more fun
to put me through what passes for a life. I guess HE got the last laugh, because here I am, still riding
those fucking roller coasters. Only it’s not about falling from the hundreds of feet off the ground
anymore. It’s about losing the one person who fucking means so much to me, sometimes I think that all
there is of me is him.
And I’m fucking tired of it. Tired of the eternal roller coaster that Justin and I find ourselves on. And
when we were just hanging out yesterday, just being together like we’ve done so many times before, I
realized I want to get off the ride. With Justin. The exhilaration and the adrenaline rush? Fuck it. I just
want to know that when I wake up in the morning, he’ll be lying next to me.
“You’re up?”
I open my eyes and turn my head in the direction his voice is coming from. He’s standing at the top of
the steps, holding a cup of what I assume is coffee in his hands.
“I figured you’d need this,” he says as he walks around the bed to my side and holds out the steaming
cup.
For a moment, just one brief moment I can’t find my voice. I’m speechless as I stare at him. And then
the relief washes over me. He didn’t leave. He’s still here. And as I sit up and take the cup from him,
the look I always see in his eyes when he looks at me is still there and I realize – he’ll always be here.
And that, along with a gulp of strong, black coffee, makes me feel warm for the first time in a very long
time.
I drink half of the coffee and put the cup on the nightstand, instead reaching for Justin’s hand. That’s
when I finally realize that he’s fully dressed.
“I thought we were gonna spend the day in bed,” I remind him, entwining my fingers with his. I never
thought a simple gesture like that could make your whole body feel so fucking alive. “Don’t tell me you
ate all the food.”
He smiles. “No.” He nudges me with his free hand playfully and I catch it before he has a chance to hit
me again. “I thought we could go some place.”
“Where?”
He shrugs. “Just somewhere.”
I study his face for a moment, but he doesn’t give anything away. Little fucker, he’s too good a student.
I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, but what else have I got to do today? So, I agree and get out of bed. I
take a shower alone, unable to convince him to join me, which only tells me that wherever it is he’s
taking me, it’s not a good idea. Yet, I still get dressed and for some bizarre reason that is completely
beyond me at the moment I hand over the keys.
The drive is mostly quiet, which is a rare thing when you’re in a car with Justin. There were times when I
couldn’t shut him up. Now he just stares straight ahead, silent.
Only when I see the sign on the front gate do I realize where he is taking me. And I have to bite my lips
in order not to lash out at him for pulling a stunt like this.
“This isn’t a good idea,” I say when he finally stops the car, surprised at how fucking small my voice
sounds. Even from here I can see it. The small hill in the middle of green grass.
“I think it is,” he argues.
I turn away, to hide the anger. At least partly. The other part of me doesn’t want him to see everything
that I’m feeling at the moment.
“I really think you should do this, Brian,” he says.
It always baffles me how his voice can be so soft but at the same time so fucking strong. Just like him.
“She’s dead. What does it matter?” I ground out, staring out the window.
“It’s for you. Not for her.”
Without looking at him, I open the door and climb out. Slowly, I make my way through a row of
tombstones, stopping in front of the tiny hill of dirt that covers what once was my mother. And then I
just stare at it.
I’m not sure what Justin wanted me to do. A whole big speech about how I forgive her? Or whatever
else his warped drama queen mind came up with. I have nothing to say. Whatever we both had to say
to each other, we said a long time ago. It was over and done with. When she died, she didn’t think of
me. I’m sure of it. And from now on I won’t think of her. I’m sure of that too.
I look over my shoulder at Justin who’s leaning against the front of the car, smoking, and then I look
back at the grave and all the anger and resentment I felt toward my mother – I feel it slip away. It
doesn’t matter any more. Because despite everything she said, everything she did, or didn’t do, I’m
happy. And I intend on being happy for a very long time.
I make my way back to the car. Justin’s staring at me with his big blue eyes, waiting for some admission,
or a lecture, which he’s completely in the right to expect. But I just take a step closer and take the
cigarette from his fingers and raise it to my lips, inhaling the smoke into my lungs.
Exhaling slowly, I lean down and kiss him. I know what he was trying to do and I…fuck it…I fucking love
him for it.
I pull away and smile. “Let’s go home.”
The End.