First a thank you to my beta BigJ who keeps stupid mistakes down to a minimum.

Its all Diana Gabaldon's fault that this chapter took long. Im reading her books and they're good. One of those one true love that crosses all boundries - and Jamie has a verra verra sexy Scottish burr, which is a total turn on. So yeah its her fault. Though Im half way through book 3 and kind of tired of all the straight sex so Im going through Rizabeau and Hephaistion Lo's sexcapades. (Nods fervantly)

I was feeling extremely disatisfied with this chapter when I first sent it to my beta but now that feeling's not so bad.. There is a mention of God in association with some slightly sinful sex. This is in no way meant to disrespect other peoples beliefs so if it does... skim over those few lines cause I won't be changing them. All urs now

~*~*~*~*~*~

Time seemed to be taking much longer to go by than it usually did. Jane was ill and Brian was without Justin’s company while the boy looked after Gus. He assumed that time was going so slowly because he was feeling particularly… sexually needful and he was anticipating seeing Justin again a little too much, so time procrastinated for the sole purpose of tormenting him.

He had not been awake and dressed more than an hour and yet here he was and he could already begin to feel the craving intensifying. He had already had the pleasure of waking up to Justin’s mouth on him – everywhere… and once sufficiently awake – again, Justin had freely shared his own pursuit for pleasure once more as he rode Brian to his own end, Brian’s cock buried deep inside his body.

Now he was waiting for Alasdair and the waiting meant that he had too much time on his hands and his thinking and imagining was getting away from him. Time was most definitely not his side today. But Alasdair and he had a number of things they needed to discuss and begin to plan for. Last night's attack being the most important of them. 

Questioning any one of those men last night would have been futile. They were guttersnipe and attempts of that kind were offered around by word of mouth. None of them would have known the identity of whom it was that was supposed to be providing the money for Brian’s head on a platter. Money would have been awarded once proof of death was confirmed and since that hadn’t happened, it was unlikely that person would be making himself known now.

There was a knock on the door and Brian frowned. Alasdair never knocked. He just walked in as if he owned a place. 

“Enter!”

Jenkins entered, “My Lord, will you needing me to call the doctor?” 

Brian’s brow rose, “Why?”

“One of the upstairs maids found blood on your bedsheets and came to me concerned with the possibility that you might have been harmed again and being the man you are, stubborn as you are, you might be trying to suffer through it on your own.” 

Brian was tense and silent for a moment his mind flashing to Justin in his bed and vigorous… fucking, before smiling tightly, “It was just a scratch. You needn’t concern yourself.” He replied distractedly as he busied himself tidying up some papers on his desk.

“What was just a scratch… and I have concerns for everything.” Alasdair strode past Jenkins and sat down in one of the large chairs that were placed in front of Brian’s desk.

“That would be all, Jenkins.” Jenkins bowed and shut the door behind him. Brian turned back to look at Alasdair, “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Brian stated despondently.

“Hmmm, you <i>are</i> in a mood. Are you not getting your nightly dose of pleasure? Have you upset your young…lover?” Alasdair gestured dramatically.

“No! Be silent Alasdair, we have matters to discuss that are a lot more complicated than dissecting my mood on the basis of whether or not I got my cock sucked this morning.” Brian bit out, his bad temper all ready to near the surface.

“I am all ears.”

“Justin and I were accosted last night by seven men…” Brian began.

“Oooh, a party.”

Brian’s gaze snapped to him and he snapped, “Alasdair, you’re pissing me off.”

“Armed?”

“Of course.”

“Were you harmed?” Alasdair asked showing consideration for the first in much too long.

“Not I, Justin.” Brian sighed, still annoyed with himself at having allowed such a thing to occur.

“Was his perfect lily-white skin marred against your pleasure?” Alasdair fluttered his eyelashes flirtatiously.

A pulse in Brian’s cheek quivered as he glared at the other man. Alasdair had the decency to look apologetic.

“I'll look into it through the usual channels.” Alasdair stated finally serious.

“You had better and the not so usual ones too, while you’re at it. I don’t think there are as many people who want me dead as there used to be so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Alasdair snorted. When Brian glanced sharply at him, he nodded sagely.

“And uh… I have some news.” 

Alasdair pursed his lips and Brian knew immediately that whatever was about to be said was not going to be good. He groaned, “Good or bad?”

“I'm not quite sure.” 

Brian gestured for him to continue. Alasdair sat straight in his chair as if he were making a report… which he was technically, but he never done that before. Usually he lounged in a chair, casually sipping tea or whiskey, depending on the hour and making half-assed comments which one only realised were important once the man had left.

“Through the many different channels, which we have used to investigate our employers in an attempt to uncover which one of The Four is betraying our King and country, after hours of research, months spent tailing, money spent...”

“Alasdair get on with it. I'm perfectly aware of all the various methods we have been using since I did instigate them.” Brian pointed out curtly.

“Right, of course. Well, they aren’t.” he smiled as if he deserved praise for having concluded his report with such fine and sober manners.

“Who aren’t, what?”

“Betraying King and country.”

Brian shut his eyes and thumped his head against the back of his chair, thoroughly exasperated. He sighed and shrugged, “I understand why it seems difficult to assign this news a good or bad sort of label. If it's not one of those four men then we have a leak and it could be one of hundreds.” Brian brushed his fingers through his head in frustration.

Alasdair tilted his head in concurrence, obviously having come to the same conclusion. 

Brian sat forward in his chair and began to make notes, “I will need reports on all the people who can be associated with any of us, who have the knowledge. You, The Four and I are the only ones who are aware in its’ entirety of the intelligence we provide. It could be any one amongst us. Make a list. Include servants, family, friends, lovers, last weeks’ dinner guests, neighbours, every single goddamned person you can think of, their baker, their milkman, if it's necessary. Then split the list between our five researchers. I want files on the fifty most likely within the next two weeks, the rest by the end of the month.” Brian handed Alasdair his notes.

Alasdair didn’t move, as he looked down and read through the sheet of paper he had been handed, “You are aware that it will take a lot longer than that.”

“Nothing has ever been done faster by assigning easy deadlines.” Brian cocked his head and began to write at his desk, utterly engrossed in his task. After some minutes he glanced up to dip his quill in his inkpot and was startled to see Alasdair still sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

“Well?” he asked already annoyed.

Alasdair grinned and shrugged, “I thought we might as well do this together to save your poor footman the hassle of being sent out every hour with another message to remind me not to forget to add the tailor or shoe shiner, chimney sweep or the fourth parlour maid.”

Brian rolled his eyes and set down his quill, leaning back in his chair. “Remind me again why it is we are still on speaking terms after all the years.”

Alasdair pondered exaggeratedly for a second. “You pay me?” 

“The King pays you.”

Alasdair’s forehead creased in deliberation again, “We both became men alongside one another?”

“You are still more of a child than a man.”

“You like my company?”

“I have better company than you.” 

Alasdair perked up and raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

Brian froze for a moment than cleared his throat diffidently, “Lets get to it then, shall we. I don’t want to be here all day.”

“No, of course not. You want to be with the <I>good</I> company. Is that much like <i>good</i> china do you think? People only see it on special occasions.” 

Brian glared indignantly.  Eventually they did get some work done in spite of themselves, or rather in spite of Alasdair.

-----

Alasdair had been gone an hour or so. He had stayed for lunch, which they had eaten from a tray in Brian’s study while they managed to form a satisfactorily comprehensive list of all their possible spies. It had been just as endless as Brian had expected it to be. When Justin entered he was quite prepared to enjoy the distraction that he would no doubt provide.

Justin strolled in comfortably as he put on his outdoor coat. Brian frowned as Justin straightened his cuffs. 

“I am going to St Mary’s for Mass and I was wondering if you would mind very much if I took Gus with me. All the pretty coloured windows will keep him amused for a while.” Justin looked up and smiled brightly at the end of his request.

Brian froze still in his seat for a moment before sitting up tensely and studying Justin’s countenance, his face completely serious “Why are you going?” he tried to sound untroubled.

Justin placed his elbows on the back of the chair in front of him as he spoke. “We go every Sunday at home and I haven't been in weeks.” 

Justin grinned with his guilty acknowledgement, reminding Brian why it was that it had been so long since he had nothing to do on a Sunday morning. 

“And until you meet my mother you can not know what a dangerous and miserable fate awaits me if she finds out that I haven't been to Confession in so very long.” Justin smiled easily but still looked guilty.

Brian’s heart sped up and he spoke without thinking “You can not confess.”

Justin’s back straightened and looked at Brian, surprise and confusion painted across his features, “Why ever not?”

“You can not confess what we do, Justin.” 

“Why would I…” Justin dropped his elbows to his sides.

Brian interrupted, “Even though I'd bet you 100 pounds that most of those priests have their cassocks over their heads rutting like any other animal between confessions, <i>you</i> can never tell them.” Brian stood up and walked towards him.

“Brian!” Justin admonished in shock and anger. 

Brian would have teased him mercifully at any other time if this particular conversation hadn’t been so terribly important. “You can not begin to understand how serious I am.” He made a move to touch him and Justin took a step away from him.

“And the fact that you find it necessary to tell me so…? I find that a much graver concern” Justin stated in barely contained fury as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Justin, you can never tell anyone what we do.” Brian said softly and reached out to try and appease him.

“Don’t touch me.” Justin batted his hand away, “For you to say that to me… you think I would confess this? Do you think I am doing something so terribly wrong that I should confess it? Do you Brian? Do you?” Justin demanded.

Brian remained silent in his confusion, not understanding exactly why it was that Justin was so angry. 

But Justin continued on regardless, “Is what we do… when I touch you or you touch me is it so terrible? Do you think it is evil?”

“No.” Brian ventured

“Then don’t you ever… <i>ever</i> tell me what I should or should not confess. I confess my sins and nothing else and until the day where you come to me and tell me we are sinning every time you kiss me, when you touch me, when you <i>love</i> me. Until that day comes I have nothing that needs confessing.” Justin closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. When he opened them again they glittered sadly with unshed moisture. “And when that day comes… the day where you don’t, any more… where you don’t love me… I am certain that when someone tries to have me hanged it will be the very least of my concerns.” 

Brian blinked and kept his lips pursed shut, for all words had been taken from him. He had never been in the presence of such dramatic self-sacrifice and love. He wasn’t sure if he understood it or believed it even possible. But it couldn’t stop his heart from squeezing the blood into arteries already full and making him feel numb.

Justin took another deep breath to steady himself and began again more calmly this time. “Now I am going to church. I am taking Gus with me and I will tell him all the pretty stories in the Bible that teach you about being good and true and how to love. And you… you can do whatever the fuck it is you do.” Fury and fire blazed in Justin’s dark, simmering eyes. Justin turned swiftly and didn’t even need the satisfaction of slamming the door on his way out.

Brian’s eyes widened with the sudden addition to Justin’s vocabulary. He was learning well it appeared, but for some reason this didn’t appease Brian in any way. Justin’s innocence was bone-deep, his nightly sodded self and his loving Brian hadn’t seemed to corrupt his purity. On any other man the words that created a sin had made the act sinful, made the men sinners. But Justin took the act and changed it, made it good, made it pure, made it love. Justin had turned every thought; every moment shared in their bed into something different… something more, something that had nothing to do with anybody else. Not about concealment, the Church or sin but just about two, about them and Brian understood now that that was the way that things should be.

Brian sighed and returned to sit in his chair behind his desk. He sat still for some seconds, palms flat on the tabletop before he stood again and went to retrieve a glass and some whisky from the liquor cabinet. Pouring himself a generous amount he placed the decanter on his desk before heading towards the fireplace to lean against the mantle piece. He stared into hot, dark flames and they reminded him of Justin. He had burned just as bright just a few moments ago.

Brian had not thought that his words would question Justin’s… hadn’t thought there was anything <i>to</i> question, hadn’t thought at all really. He hadn’t been thinking and that not only went against his character but it was a mistake. Under ordinary circumstances that would be dangerous. Matters of the heart left it open to weakness, made you weak if you let them. Wasn’t that what every boy was taught, had it practically hammered into their heads from birth? Women were the weaker sex, the emotive sex, the mothers who cared and nurtured. But men… men?

He had never had cause to question that, he had believed this to be so, that his heart was only capable of leading him to tangles and danger. In his profession it had been a lesson well-used, practiced, driven and proved time and time again. For men to show emotion was a weakness. There was no question of that but yet again Justin had changed everything, made him question. 

Justin had turned weakness into strength and damned if anyone else thought otherwise, it was the way it was and would always be.

Brian felt it almost impossible to follow Justin’s lead. But since when had he ever conformed unquestioningly to any other person’s deluded constraints. He had good cause to question now, didn’t he? He spent the next few hours lost in his own thoughts and waiting.

He heard Justin come back from church, heard Gus, heard footsteps echo through the house in different directions as Justin wandered around doing whatever it was he was doing. It was early evening when Brian got tired of waiting. The house had been somewhat silent for a while now. The lack of Justin’s very memorable footsteps made that silence all the more apparent. No matter what others sounded past his door, servants still at their chores, they weren’t Justin’s and the silence irked him.

So Brian began to look for him. He wandered through the entire house; discovered places he had not really known existed, really. The last place he went to, which he knew should have been the first, was their chambers. He entered his one room first unaware of his own attempt at deluding himself into thinking, hoping that Justin would be in his bed rather than his own. 

Brian entered his room and approached his bed then stopped when he realised it was empty. He turned slowly and stared through the door to the adjoining room for a moment before deciding to venture into this suddenly less welcoming place.

Justin lay motionless with his back turned towards him, covers pulled high but Brian knew that he was awake. He approached the bed quietly and seeing one bare shoulder peeking out from under all the sheets that covered his boy began to undress.

He climbed in behind Justin's still body and inched over until he could feel the warmth of Justin's skin radiating, reaching out to him. He turned on his side and mirrored the position of Justin’s body. Brian hesitated before finally touching the pale shoulder and placing his hand flat on Justin’s chest, pulling him in towards his own, until every inch of their bodies touched.

“How could you ever even consider that I in any way think that <i>this</i> could be wrong?” Justin’s voice was soft and weak as he spoke without turning to face him.

“Justin…” Brian began but didn’t really know how to continue.

“I did not know that you could hurt me so. I thought that now that I knew that I loved you, everything would be perfect, easy… but I was wrong. Loving someone means that you give them the power to cut you to the very quick… you just trust and hope that they will not use it.” 

Brian winced and tried to generate enough annoyance at the emotional blackmail but failed. He kissed the back of Justin’s neck and held him closer, words whispering over Justin’s cheek in explanation.

“It is not pain I meant to cause you. I just… I wanted to urge caution. Justin, I have already suffered the kind of pain that could one day befall us, I do not fear it… for me. But you terrify me. I do not think I could live if you were to… the fear I do not have for me… I have for you.” 

“Well, don’t! <i>Don’t</i> fear for me. For I have loved, so I have lived and I have nothing to fear. I will go to my grave loving you and I will never regret anything we have done, are about to do, or will do in the future.”

Brian closed his eyes and tried to will away his aching head, “You are…” but he could not go on. Could not define what it was that Justin meant or was or would be.

Justin turned around, his body shuffling over so that they were chest to chest, Justin’s head tucked under Brian’s chin, his fingers stroking over the dark skin, fingering nipples and scars alike. “Tell me.” 

Brian tilted Justin’s head up and looked down at him. Eyes scanned over shadowed features and eyes that shone black in the gloom. Brian kissed him. A kiss that explained, that confirmed, revealed. A kiss of contrasting passions, languid need, both slow, gentle and hard with urgency. They could not seem to get close enough to one another. They pulled at each other, fingers bruised while they caressed, teeth marked, the sting then swiftly appeased by supple tongue and lips.

And still they couldn’t get close enough. Brian placed Justin’s knees over his shoulders, the dark, swollen head of his cock resting for a moment in the cradle of Justin’s cheeks. Heat washed over him and their eyes met, dark with lust and desperate need. Brian flexed his hips and pushed in. His weeping cock eased its’ own way inside Justin’s tight, warm passage, so slow he was almost spent before he was due.

He split Justin open. His muscles spasmed in an attempt to accommodate Brian’s length, his body tense with the pain of entry, arching away while his fingers tugged Brian’s mouth down to meet his, allowing Brian to swallow Justin’s cries.

“Oh God, you break me, My Lord.”

Brian’s fingers gripped at Justin’s hips, begging for control as he pulled out deliberately, making sure to stroke over every inch of sensitive nerves, “I thought I had broken and made you whole already, that first night?” He thrust in again as hie ran his lips along the hard angle of Justin’s jaw.

Justin groaned, eyes clenched shut in a mix of pain and pleasure, “You break me every night. But Brian, you can't break broken things.” He panted huskily as his eyes flew open with dazed pleasure and he whimpered. 

Brian sucked on his Adam’s apple and thrust again, feeling the length of Justin’s body react to him plunging in to the depths of him. Justin winced in response as if the pleasure was too great, too enormous to keep to himself and the arms he wrapped around Brian pulled him down nearer.

They generated a heat that burned within. Their loving tangled and draped in sheets, hidden from the world. Breathless, wordless promises made with every thrust. Justin’s skin hummed and Brian’s burned. They soothed hurts with the caress of lips. Brian found every pale, violet vein that created a maze under Justin’s delicate skin and gave each faint, undefined boundary his attention, licking and sucking, paying homage to Justin’s blood, his life.

When they climaxed it was not as important as it usually seemed. The being near, being in, being surrounded having taken priority to the need for release. 

Brian didn’t move from his place on top of Justin’s body. They sighed and whispered words with no meaning as their tongues battled in harmony, tasting from their mouths, drinking their breath. Until Justin’s ear lobe distracted Brian, his slender neck and then shoulders demanded attention, quickly followed by pert nipples and his ribs and belly button.

“Brian? Stay with me?” Justin tugged weakly at his arms.

“No, I must taste of you.”

“What part of me have you left untouched, unmarked, unkissed, unloved?” Justin asked, happily puzzled as Brian nuzzled down his body disappearing under the bed sheets.

“I have owned every inch of you, Justin.” Brian stroked his hand up Justin’s thighs, “I find I have an insuppressible desire to taste you when you have been steeped in my own essence.” A gentle pressure urged Justin’s legs apart and whispered words caressed the sensitive skin over Justin’s balls, “Spread your legs, Justin. Let me drink of you.” 

Brian’s tongue swept down over his perineum, before lapping at his hole. His asshole spasmed weakly, temptingly and Brian pressed his lips around the delicate entrance and sucked. Cum leaked into his mouth, his and Justin’s flavours combined so as to form an entirely different musk. Justin flexed his legs, tried to keep them still but wanted desperately to pull Brian in nearer, deeper. Brian’s tongue entered him, reaching for every last drop of him.

Justin gasped, “No, God, please.”

Brian pulled away and glanced up at him, “There is no God here, Justin.” 

Justin arched his back and spread his legs open further, “He is everywhere, Brian. I feel him most when you move inside of me. You take me to Heaven. The French, they call it the ‘little death’, ‘la petit mort’. I die every time you look at me and you make me live again when you deign to touch me.”

Brian stared up at the beautiful sight that offered himself before him and spoke carefully, a smile curling at his lips. “You have been studying.”

“What else was I to do whilst my tutor was away from me?”

“You could have practised.” Brian suggested, murmuring softly against Justin’s cheeks, his tongue sweeping once again along the inner ring of muscle that guarded his entrance.

“Never.” Justin gasped, “I am yours, Brian. Why would I allow anyone else to touch me when I belong to you?”

“Do you?”

“Always!”

Brian smiled and ducked down again to finish feasting. Until Justin had enough and pulled him up to his lips and sucked on his tongue, muttering over ‘selfish men, who took without giving back, without sharing’. Brian flipped him over then and informed him that he would take from Justin as much as he wanted and he’d better like it 'cause Justin made him want so very much.

------

Justin was restless. Sleep was having great difficulty taking him and he didn’t know whether it was Brian’s fault or not. He sat at the foot of the bed, leaning against one of the four posts that held the beds’ canopy, with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring at the man. Incapable of looking away from him, from his beautiful form draped in silken sheets

It seemed that tonight it was his turn to sit quietly in moonlight and contemplate his lover. All that was required to finish the tableau was for him to be standing naked by the window, staring out on to empty streets. That was the only difference between the two images.

He heard Gus fussing. In normal circumstances Justin would leave him, certain that the young boy would fall swiftly into peaceful slumber. Under normal circumstances Justin wouldn’t be awake to hear him. Under normal circumstances Justin would not want for the company of something warm and perfect so that he could wrap his arms around, cradling someone near to his heart. 

He got out of bed and walked, naked through to the nursery. He had left the door open a bit because he knew Jane had a cold and he hadn’t wanted Jane to tire herself, or to spend too much time with the little one in that state. Entering, he immediately shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He wasn’t surprised that poor Gus was waking, the window was open and it was freezing. 

Justin hurried over to the window and forced it closed. Naked and shivering he bent over Gus’s crib and picked the boy up. Just in time it seemed as Gus’s eyes were blinking open and he was about to start crying. 

“There, shhh, I'm here.” Justin soothed as he untangled a tiny foot from a mass of blankets. Straightening, with Gus’s head on his shoulder and his hand rubbing circles over his back Justin lay him down on his changing table to check his diaper. It was wet and he began to unpin the cloth as he spoke to the small boy who was slowly waking up. He held his arms out to him and Justin smiled softly as tiny fingers curled around his finger.

He finished pinning a clean diaper on to him and picked him up again. He turned towards the crib and hesitated for a moment before smiling to himself in decision. He turned, Gus still in his arms and headed towards his room. He took a few steps, and saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and froze as he felt something sharp press against his neck.

“Why couldn’t ye have left the babe in his bed like he was meant?”

Justin didn’t breathe, his heartbeat quickened into an endless hum that blocked his senses for long seconds. He opened his mouth to call out but the blade pressed in again.

“Breathe a word and I'll gut ye where ye stand.”

Justin shut his mouth. The whispered voice was rough and untutored, the blade at his neck, pressed close and Justin was naked and his arms trapped, holding Gus.

“There be a basket behind ye. Get hold of some padding for it then place the babe atop.” The knife moved its point trailing down the length of Justin’s neck, over his shoulder until it rested against his back, alongside his spine.

Justin shut his eyes in regret and moved to do as he was bid. To the cot first for Gus’s baby blanket, he made a move to put Gus down but the knife pressed in again and he felt his skin open a bit under the point. 

“Don’t think it. Keep your ‘ands as full as I ken. Na g’thinking you ken get your ‘ands free.” The man seemed more confident of his position and stopped whispering, though he was still hardly very loud. Justin prayed for Brian to wake up. 

Justin held Gus tighter to him and picked the blanket up, folding it one-handed. He walked over to the basket that rested just to the side of the cot, kicking himself for having not noticed it earlier. He then bent down to force the blanket into its’ corners then straightened again, turning very slowly to face his assailant.

The man was not well dressed, or clean. He had a beard and his eyes were dark as if he had painted them with coal. Justin’s fear tightened around his heart.

“The babe, now! Put ‘im down in the basket and nought will…”

He was interrupted.

“Justin, come to bed.” Brian’s voice echoed lazily, “Bring Gus if you want instead of standing by his crib talking to him as if he understood a word you said.” Brian had drifted awake the moment Justin left his bed. He had dozed, patiently awaiting his return, hearing murmured tones that had changed from soothing into… something else. 

He waited for a reply or the muted sounds of movement as Justin hurried to comply with his request. But instead he heard… nothing, hardly even the sound of breathing. He sat up slowly, every instinct warring inside of him as his hand crept under the pillow for his pistol.

He nearly cursed out loud when he realised he was in Justin’s bed and not his own. He got swiftly off the bed and knelt beside the pile of clothing that he had stripped out of a few hours earlier. He began to rifle through them, searching for his hand pistol.

“You better still be naked.” He added as an afterthought in the hopes of distracting anyone, who might be there, from any noise he might make while they carefully pondered the significance behind his words.

When the man had heard Brian’s voice his face had paled white with shock, which was swiftly followed by fear mixed in with an ever-increasing dose of disgust. If Justin was as capable at reading expressions as he thought he was. Frozen and silent, the blade pressing against Justin’s side, the only thing that dissuaded him from calling out. The man moved quickly to stand behind him in the hopes that the pale boy would shield him from whatever came through the door. As a precautionary measure his dirty hand came up to cover Justin’s mouth.

Justin’s eyes were wide and full of fear as he stared at the shadowed entrance that led to his room, as if the intensity of his gaze would conjure Brian under the doorframe. He shook as he stroked down the length of Gus’s back, soothing, hoping Gus would remain asleep. Then his hand froze, ‘fool’ blinked his mind repeatedly and his hand stroked down further and he pinched the fat on Gus’s thigh between his fingers, remorsefully until the boy began to cry.

The man jumped in shock as Gus’s wail tore through the silent darkness. Justin gasped as the knife dug a little further into his skin. The man began to pull him back towards the window, in the hopes that he would be able to make his getaway before the child’s cries called anyone to them.

“Don’t!” 

The man spun around to face the doorway where Brian stood naked with a pistol pointed straight at him. The man’s knife flashed up to Justin’s throat, making itself more visible to Brian as it glittered in the dim moonlight.

“Since you stand there drawing my lovers’ blood and threatening my son, maybe we should be on first-name terms.”  Brian’s voice was cool and collected and Justin shivered again. The man spat his reply, over Justin’s shoulder and Justin grimaced in disgust then nearly shook his head, amazed that at such a time he could be thinking of the man lack of manners rather than the knife that was drawing blood at his neck.

Brian began to inch forward; with every step he took the man took a step backwards. Justin knew they were nearing the slightly open window, could not fathom what would happen once they reached it, and wondered if there was any way for the situation to resolve itself leaving them unscathed. He held Gus as his sobs shook his little body. Justin could feel the hot, thick breath of the man behind him begin to quicken across his cheek as the same thoughts echoed brightly in his mind. He supposed that the would-be kidnapper was coming to the same conclusions as he.

“I'll start then. I am Lord Talbot, the best swordsmen in England and an excellent shot. Who are you and what are you doing?” Gus’s cries made Brian’s words sound quieter than they were meant to, making them seem all the more menacing.

“I can kill ‘im.” 

The blade moved along Justin’s skin and he gasped, the involuntary movement once again opening skin. Brian stepped forward again.

“I'm sure you can but you’ll be just as dead afterwards. Although I might take my time and draw it out a bit in lieu, for taking him from me.” Justin stared out wide-eyed with fear as Brian’s gaze met his for a brief moment before flicking back to the danger at hand.

“I jest need the babe. No need for nothin’ else.” The man voiced, desperation and anger lacing his voice as if it were entirely their fault for having interrupted him trying to kidnap their child.

Brian’s mouth tightened and he sneered, “So I'm supposed to allow you to waltz out of here with my son, thankful ‘cause you <i>only</i> drew a pint of blood from my lover.”

The mans’ eyes flickered over Justin’s skin in assessment, “He ain’t bin ‘armed.”

“His skin is pale as snow. I can see the blood dripping off him.” Brian pointed out with barely contained fury.

“Mere scratches. ‘e’ll heal.” The man muttered matter-of-factly.

“And my son?” Brian’s voice was breathless.

“My orders were jest to fetch the tike. I canna say what happens ‘ore.”

“Who hired you?” There was no reply and Brian stepped forwards once more as if he would strike out in his anger.

Justin heard a sound to his left and his eyes darted in that direction. The handle of the door to the nursery was being slowly turned. All three men seemed to freeze for a moment and then suddenly everything was happening at once. The door opened an inch, Justin was abruptly shoved forward into Brian’s arms and a gunshot rang through the house. Then the door slammed shut again.

Brian’s free arm went immediately round Justin’s torso to stop him from stumbling to the floor. Gus’s screeching doubled in intensity. Brian dropped the smoking pistol and his hands wrapped round Justin’s biceps pulling him to stand, checking simultaneously for serious wounds. 

Justin shook in his arms and buried his face in Brian’s chest, trying to control the breaths of fear.

“Jesus Christ! Are you all right, Justin? You’re okay, you’re fine.” Brian asked and reassured at the same time.

“I was going to have to g-give him up, Brian. J-just… without saying a word, just handing him over… utterly helpless. I didn’t know what to do.” Justin was almost sobbing, matching Gus’s cries as he tried to calm the baby down whilst he himself got more hysterical.

“But you didn’t. Everything is well, Gus is perfectly fine, just fussing from the surprise.” Brian pulled Justin and scattered soft reassurance in kisses across Justin’s wet cheeks. “It’s not like there was anywhere on your person where you could have hidden a weapon, mo chuisle (my pulse).” 

Justin’s lips quirked in a terrible example of a smile. His eyes shone brightly with tears as he studied Brian’s face in an attempt to find forgiveness hidden within his features. But there was none to be found, for forgiveness was not required. Justin stood on his toes as he lent forward and took Brian’s mouth in a desperate, urgent kiss. 

Brian allowed Justin to plunder his mouth as his fingers clutched his hips gently. Gus was held between them as Justin wrapped his free arm round Brian’s neck and pulled him in closer. Brian began to feel himself go hard and had been about to act on the need to press Justin’s hips against his own when they were interrupted. 

A soft, frightened voice called out through the door, “Is… is everything a-all right?” Jane had slammed the nursery door shut in fear the moment she had heard the shot ring out. Since then she had been leaning with her ear to the door hoping to hear noises that would reassure her that everything was fine.

Brian pulled back and sighed. He rested his forehead against Justin’s and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply to steady his stuttering heart. “Yes, Jane. We’re all fine. Go back to bed. Everything will be fine”

Jane stayed were she was, still hesitant and unsure whether she should enter the room and care for Gus.

Gus was quieting in Justin’s arms, almost having cried himself into exhaustion and Justin found that he had the strength to stand on his own. He stepped back and after one last penetrating assessment Brian walked briefly to kneel at the side of their fallen foe, his fingers searching for a pulse.

He sat back on his heals, dejectedly and muttered, “Shit, I missed.”

Justin began to gently rock Gus in his arms and frowned, “He’s dead Brian.”

“I know! That’s what I meant.” He stood up gracefully and Justin studied every inch of smooth undulating muscle as he did. He was desperate for intimacy.

Brian glanced back at him and walked towards him, fingertips flitted over carved skin, where weak trails of blood were already beginning to dry. “You’re bleeding again Justin. Two nights in a row that I have put your life in danger.” He wrapped his arms around the boy ad held him close, sighing with relief.

It took Jane quite a few minutes to work that last sentence out in her head. She gasped and her eyes widened as she pieced together what she had just heard and what a maid had shared with her earlier. She took a step back away from the door, her eyes flickering over its decorative grain as if she would see through the wood if she just stared hard enough. Blinking suddenly and putting away the things she had heard she went to bed, buried under her sheets and ignoring her mind as it tried to put coherence and sense into half-formed thoughts that she had no business thinking.

Brian wrapped his arms round Justin’s cold frame and kissed his forehead. He pushed the boy away, “Get yourself to bed, a ghrá. Take Gus with you. He will keep you company while I try and sort this out.” Justin hesitated and Brian kissed him quickly on the lips, “Go, you are shivering in your skin with cold and I will not have you sickly again. Do as I bid.”

Justin obeyed, fear and adrenalin suddenly abandoning him and making his exhaustion known. He set Gus down in the centre of the bed, crawled in after him then burrowed in and tried to recover some warmth. With his head on his pillow and eyes only half-closed, he followed the shadows of Brian’s movements as he began dressing and calling out for the servants which had by now begun to arrive at Brian’s bedroom door.