A/N: Don’t ever write fanfic with three glasses of banana-maracuja sunrise (it’s a German Cocktail, also called ´Billigfusel´) in your system, or poor Brian ends up living in the playboy-mansion…it’s sad, really *sighs* ________________________________________________________
´And if I lived a thousand years you know I never could explain, the way I lost my heart to you that day´ “Jesus fucking Christ!” With a heavy dish box in his hands, Michael took a big step back in front of the entrance so he could view the house in full size. “Shit, Brian, who did you buy this place from? Count Dracula?” “No,” Brian, loaded with an extraordinary Italian designer lamp, stomped past his friend into the house. “Hugh Hefner.” And that wasn’t a joke. Presumably he was forced to spray everything with antiseptic spray for the next couple of weeks to eliminate all residuals of female body fluids. “What?” Michael hurried to follow Brian through the door. “Hugh Hefner? Playboy Hugh Hefner? You mean this …” He wrinkled his nose as he looked around in the entrance hall and quickly took his hand off of a small adornment commode. “This is the famous Playboy Mansion?!” Sighing Brian sat his lamp down. “No, this is the famous Brighton mansion, Mister Hefner’s holiday home.” He put on a fake smile and then tapped Michael on the shoulder. “Named after Miss September 1982. Connie Brighton.” “Wow.” Mikey looked impressed. “Who would have thought that you of all people would live in a house that is named after a centerfold girl? And all the wild parties that must have taken place here. I mean hey — I’m sure this old house has seen more bare women than the backroom at Babylon on Dyke Night.” “Yeah.” Brian’s face changed color from pale-rose to an obvious unhealthy shade of green. “Fascinating. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” He gestured in the direction of the mirror glass doors. “I need to change the pool water.” ””””””””””””””””””” Blake wasn’t surprised at all to find the young patient from room 410 in front of the window for the fifth day in row. “Hey frog, sleep well?” He put the breakfast tray and medicine cup down before he began to collect some cloths from the floor. “Don’t you want to change? You’re still wearing your pajamas.” Justin had definitely heard Plake, but ignored him completely. He was in a bad mood and really angry. Everyday he sat at the window and watched how the beautiful prince went in and out of the castle with boxes and bags in his hand or only with a key for his fast car-vehicle. Justin had smiled and called for him behind the window pane and combed his blond hair extra nice, but the prince had never looked up or said ‘Neighbor’ like the servant-man. Justin also knew that it’s wasn’t Christmas yet and that his hair still didn’t reach the ground, but he was sure that it was polite to get to know each other. Professor Pruckner had told him so. Miss Eterson and Plake had also told him. You had to say hello and the name. Then you knew each other. So why wouldn’t the prince say hello to him? “Never, never. Of course never.” He grumbled and wrote a fat ‘was not looking’ note under Friday, September 2nd in his notebook after the prince simply ran into the castle without looking up to Justin’s tower again. Justin had smeared extra color on his mouth just like Miss Eterson did to look pretty. “Justin. Come here and wash your hands, okay? You have fruit yogurt for breakfast. You like fruits, right?” “Peaaar.” Justin said and pressed his green marked lips against the pane. He wondered if the prince ate yogurt on Friday mornings too. “Of course.” After all he also lived in Pittsburgh. “Justin.” Blake stepped to his patient and touched his arm gently. “Hey you, won’t you have your yogurt? Otherwise I’ll eat it.” The boy turned his face from the window and looked at Blake with large eyes. The male nurse was shocked and blinked for a moment speechless, trying really hard to hold back his laughter. “Justin? Oh my god, what did you do to your mouth?! You are totally green.” Justin tipped his head to the side, smiled and batted his long eyelashes like Miss Eterson did all the time. Maybe he should color his eyes too? Maybe then the prince would finally look up to him. “Why did you do that?” Blake guided the boy to the sink and began to wash his face with warm water and mild soap. “You really must like green.” Justin again batted his eyelashes two times, then pressed his lips tight together so that he wouldn’t eat soap. Yes, he liked green. Grass was green and the frog and… “…broccoli.” “Yes, broccoli and Justin. Now you two have the same coloring.” ”””””””””””””””””””””” On Friday’s it was yams, chicken, peas, and caramel pudding for lunch. Justin ate it all while humming Jingle Bells and promising the frog on the wall that it definitely wasn’t Christmas. After that male nurse Schmidt came and guided him two floors down to the St. James fun afternoon. “Today we play Hang-Man.” Male nurse Schmidt explained with encouragement and smiled at the young patient. “And all the patients are there. You will have a lot of fun.” Justin carried his fairy tale book casually with both hands behind his back and roamed leisurely just like the man with the black hat on TV did. “Not Pla-ake…” He sing-songed and pretended not to understand one thing. He really didn’t like the fun afternoon. The patients sat at seven long tables in the community room while Dr. Cameron suggested that they had to find the missing letters to guess the words from his spot in front of the chalkboard. Justin sat next to a small man with a lot of dark hair. DAPHNE was written on his sticker, but he said his name was Alice. “…in Wonderland.” Justin had assured him and then ringed the bell, because it was clearly obvious that P_ _ _ i _ _ _ _ _ _ c meant nothing else than Physiognomic. “Wow.” Alice looked with jealousy at Justin’s card. “You really know all words.” “With P.” The boy explained as he counted the little lines that Dr. Cameron had drawn on the chalkboard at the same time. “All with P.” “Yes? Why only P?” “Perspiration, perspiration.” Mumbled Justin as he concentrated and pushed the bell before the man at the chalkboard could do much more then write the first and last letter down. “Pudding begins with P. And the prince.” Alice watched the incredulous expression on the doctor’s face and turned again to her neighbor. “I don’t like pudding. It has disgusting skin.” She chewed for a moment on her pen. “Who’s the prince?” “L…i…pppgloss.” Justin recognized the next word without any problems. “My prince in the castle.” “Cool.” Alice lazily put her head on the table. “Does he visit you?” Justin hit the bell with his hand and Dr. Cameron sighed deeply. “Not before Christmas. He never looks up to the window.” “Yeah, men are always the same. You have to go to him, otherwise nothing will ever happen.” “Nothing ever?” Justin looked surprised at Alice and wondered where the rabbit was. Alice shook the head. “Never.” ”””””””””””””””””””””””” “Ahhh yeah. That was…great.” Brian smiled satisfied and tugged his trousers up. He patted the pool boy’s head. Well, the guy really proved great talent and the pool was certainly free from any harmful female substances now. Wonderful. That way one could really experience a completely new sense of being in his homey garden. Brian looked around and located a few very unnecessary plants that surely he would have removed in the next few days by Santos the gardener. Yeah, he was definitely gifted with the handling of wood and other… solid things. Hmm. So, the first thing removed would definitely be the disgusting lesbian rose bushes and the smelling violets. Oh… and that scrawny tree over there. Brian stepped close to the trunk and looked up to the branches, searching for clues of which species this scrub could belong to. Well, there were yellow-brown leaves and a single pear. “Pfft… pathetic.” The garden owner snorted in disgust before marching back into the house to call Santos. The sooner this weed would disappear, the sooner there would be room to widen out the lawn. ”””””””””””””””””””””” Male nurse Schmidt had said that they had to get back to their rooms, but Justin wanted to go to the way with the small stones. “Never happen, never happen.” With quick steps and his book tight in his arms he went straight, then crooked, another crooked and listened if he could hear music. But it was silent and a little bit cold. Hmm. A little more forward and then the way would end. Black road, white stripes and many rods and sticks. Justin pushed against the fence, checking with his legs as he twisted a hair strand around his finger and looked at the other side of the road. “Hello there, neighbor.” He echoed in an exact copy of Emmett’s voice and looked for a couple of minutes with an emotionless face at the big castle and the blue water well behind it. “My ball…” He then said in a soft voice and lifted one leg a little awkward over the fence. “… golden ball… has fallen into the well.” With clumsy steps he went to the curb and was totally self-engrossed by a passing car, before he went along over the black asphalt and the thick white stripes. He went until he reached the other side. “Don’t you cry, dearest princess.” he spoke in a deeper voice and scrambled without any problems over the 2 foot high border wall on the Kinney property. “I will bring you back your…,” He looked around on the big lawn briefly, before he went on, “…your beloved toy.” The boy walked carelessly over a bed of violets, pressed his book tighter to his chest and looked up, stunned by the branches of a tree. “Yogurt with fruits. Of course a pear.” He really liked pears. Behind the mirrored terrace door of his homestead, Brian Kinney meanwhile looked up casually from his computer screen, rolled his uptight shoulders a little and blinked then two times. His gaze accidentally discovered somebody in his garden who definitely did not look like his Latin gardener Santos. “Well, well…looks like I got mail.” ””””””””””””””””””””””” Justin was totally mesmerized. The well water was so blue and didn’t smell like bottled water at all. That was definitely the frog’s fault. He held his nose a little bit closer over the water surface and breathed in deeply. “Frog smell.” Brian was standing behind the door and watched through the glass as the young man bent forward over the swimming pool. It almost seemed as if he would sniff at the water. Then he went to the edge of the pool and spoke… apparently with himself. He pointed with his finger, laughed about nothing noticeable and shook his head. Brian frowned. The boy was cute, in his own naïve way, but it seemed as if he had laid too long in the sun during the last summer, or…he was one of the ‘occupants’ from the other side of the street. It wouldn’t be the first time since he moved here that he made an involuntary acquaintance with one of them. Though, so far none of them had gone astray on his property. Justin smiled. It was so beautiful here. The grass was so soft, like a pillow. He bounced a little on the balls of his feet and laughed. Certainly the prince could make great jumps here and wanted for hours to … “… roll on the ground.” Justin bent down in a squatted position. He wanted to roll over the lawn too, like the hedgehogs at the crocket-game of the Queen of Hearts. “Cut their heads off!” he said in a deep voice as he held his book with one arm, while with his other hand and his forehead tried to support himself to perform a somersault. “Thh.” Brian couldn’t believe it and shook his head with a snort as the blonde visitor began to make acrobatic stunts in front of his fey hydrangeas. Maybe the boy wasn’t an absconder institution resident, but was released from a passing traveling circus. Hh. Well, that wouldn’t be surprising. Blondie here surely seemed very untalented in floor exercises. Whatever. On his desk waited the Lindman account and the Novotny-Bruckners had invited him to ‘Dinner’. Therefore he had, as sad as it was, absolutely no time to enjoy this show further. With a rough jerk he pulled the terrace door open. “Hey!” He stomped straight to his small private artist. “Hey you! Boy!” Justin lifted his head from the lawn because he heard a loud voice. He looked up in shock. He grew stiff and knelt on the ground. There came the prince! With black trousers and bare feet, without crown and sword, but with chestnut hair and a white flutter shirt. “Like wings…” Justin made big eyes. The prince was so huge! Brian took large steps closer and saw a pale face with slightly pink cheeks that looked totally paralyzed up at him. “You know that this is private property, don’t you?” Justin pressed his book close to his chest, without blinking once. The prince was very loud too. Brian arched a brow, waiting. “What? Do you have a reason for making a picnic on my deluxe lawn, or have you been lost in the big dark forest?!” The boy rapidly shook his head. Getting lost only happens to… “… little red riding hood.” And he hadn’t even a basket with him. He briefly looked for a wine bottle. No, he also had… “…no cake.” Mister Kinney frowned and tilted his head as the boy began to search for his lunchbox. “Lost your contact lenses?” “’course way too big eyes…” Remembered Justin and he shook his head. He really didn’t like the big bad wolf. Brian sighed. “Okay, end of the show Pepino.” He clapped his hands. “It was really nice chatting with you, but it’s late and a stack of work is laying on my desk.” “Late, of course, very late.” Justin stood up from the ground, hugged his book and looked up in the sky while rocking back and forth. “Of course very very late.” “Yeah…” Brian looked suspicious at the blonde, grabbed him gently by his shoulders and tried to guide him in the direction of his garden door. “Almost 6 o’clock and I’m sure you‑“ “Oh oh!” Justin stood still abruptly and turned around. “Of course there is supper at 6 o’clock in Pittsburgh.” “Yeah, whatever.” Brian stroked his hair out of stress. He really wasn’t in the mood for this shit. “Then it’s better you quickly scamper back in your basket to all the other well-behaving puppies.” Again he tried to guide the boy to the exit, but this time with some more emphasis. But Justin escaped his grip and rocked nervously. “6 o’clock. Of course always 6 o’clock. Red beet and liverwurst.” “Hey, hey this way.” Brian gripped the younger one at the hem of his shirt. “Come on.” Justin immediately pulled at his hair and started to scream. “Aaaahau au au au!” “What? What is it?! Shit.” Brian, out of shock, took his fingers back and looked around hastily. He could already see the headline ‘Brian Kinney abuses a twelve year old in Hugh Hefner’s vacation home’. “Fuck, alright, alright!” He tried to calm the boy by stroking his back. “Hey, could you stop screaming? Everything’s okay, see?” He held his hands up and tried to present a half hearted smile. “Aah of course! Of course supper at six.” Justin squeezed his eyes together because his head really hurt. It pricked and pricked. “Hss.” A blonde hair tuft fell on the grass and Brian gently reached for Justin’s cramped fingers to try and release them from the long strands. “Come on … don’t do that, okay?” “6 o’clock. Supper at six.” The boy whined and retracted his neck. It still pricked. “At six?” Carefully Brian released his fingers and swore mentally. This wasn’t exactly his idea for evening entertainment. “You want to eat? “At six.” Whined Justin. “Red beet.” “Red beet? You eat red beet?” “No potato salad.” “No?” Brian released both hands and took some of the blonde strands of hair away that the boy had yanked out. “If you ask me potato salad is way better then red beet.” “Of course supper at six.” Justin rocked und looked for his… “… book?” Brian bent down. “Fairy tales, huh?” he turned the first few pages and Justin began to hum while his emotionless gaze fell past Brian. “Six, certainly six o’clock.” The older one closed the book and held it out for the boy. “You want to eat? At six o’clock?” Justin nodded and held the book tightly at his chest. “Six o’clock. Certainly red beet.” Brian sighed loud, rubbed a hand through his hair again and couldn’t believe that he was doing this. “I haven’t any fucking red beet.” “Certainly liverwurst.” “Pff, yeah sure.” Mister Kinney snorted with contempt and turned to go back into the house. “Do you have any notion of how much fat is in three grams of liverwurst?” Justin rocked a little and followed with clumsy steps. “Pittsburgh. Of course red beet and liverwurst.” Brian shook his head and tugged the terrace door a little more open before he disappeared in the direction of his kitchen to search for the low-calories parfait which he had seen earlier in the back of the cupboard. ””””””””””””””””””””””” Thx to our wonderful beta Sam