Brian’s POV I slowly eased my cock out of Justin’s tight ass. Just seconds ago his body had been tense and active under mine as he worked with me towards our mutual satisfaction. Now he was laid out as limp as a wet rag and it made me chuckle. He still had a pillow wrapped in his arms and his face was buried in the depths of it. He groaned and shuddered when I slipped from him and grumbled at my amusement. I leaned forward and nuzzled the base of his neck, licking a path along the curve of his ear as I pulled off the condom and reached across the bed to drop it in the trash. Even sweaty and musky from sex he still smelled compelling and his pale skin was like silk under my touch. I glanced at the clock. Fuck, we had to leave in fifteen minutes. I hadn’t awakened with the intentions of fucking him but as I had slowly surfaced from the hazy depths of my dreams, which had not been all that fucking great, he was snuggled back against me. His goddamn tight little ass pressed against my raging hard on. My fingers had already been coated with lube and deep inside that tempting ass before he was completely awake. There had been no protest on his part, only eager submission and so I had fucked him awake, good fucking morning you might say. Now, sated and relaxed from my own orgasm I didn’t feel like getting up to face another damn day. Christ, last weekend had been for shit and I had little hope this week was going to get any better. I was living with the dread that a can of yellow ‘paint’ would suddenly show up somewhere inside the loft and the idea ate at me almost constantly. I had dumped everything that was in the refrigerator after I found the first can. Justin had been hurt and infuriated in turn. I told him to shut up it was my fucking loft and if I wanted the refrigerator empty then he could damn well live with it. Christ, a fucking killer had been in here. He had come freely into my home and he had been in here with Justin...had touched him. It tied my stomach in fucking knots to think about the hands that had brutally murdered some guy sifting through the satin of Justin’s hair. I had been so shaken by my discovery of the intrusion that it was not until later that afternoon that it occurred to me that there might be another danger, lurking in the depths of the refrigerator and while I was sure that poison was not the crazy bastard’s weapon of choice; I wasn’t going to find out the hard way that he didn’t mind leaving a deadly little calling card behind and so into the trash it all went, including that damn lemon pie and that had really pissed me off. I felt my paranoia had been justified when he had killed again. Not by poison true but another young blond queer was minus his goddamn head. It had been revealed by the press that he hadn’t really been a blonde. Well, he was now. The most popular theory being bandied about by the public was that the killer had fucking dyed the guy’s hair after he was dead. They were taking bets on why he might have done it but no one really had any clue. I had been hard put to maintain my façade of indifference when I heard about it but the horror and confusion of the situation did not end there. We had gathered at Woody’s Saturday night rehashing the day and engaging in idle gossip about the idea that there could be a serial killer actually stalking Liberty Avenue. Justin was uncharacteristically quiet and my usual enthusiasm for shocking everyone with my blasé attitude was sadly lacking. When the news came on the entire bar fell silent and everyone gathered to find out what bits of information they were gong to release this time. The answer was pictures. The pictures that flashed across the screen of the TV in the darkened bar were of a 20 something with dark hair and brooding eyes but even under that unruly mop of dark hair there was something eerily familiar about the composition of his face, the contour of his lips the way he held his head; Emmett had turned from the screen to look at Justin. “Oh my god, Justin…he looks like you!” The queen exclaimed shocked by the realization of how much the pictures looked like Justin and despite the dark coloring the resemblance was uncanny. Of course the one thing about the first corpse that even the police didn’t know was his similarity, however contrived, to Justin. At that moment the kid looked like he might fucking puke and I felt like if he did I might goddamn well join him. Christ what a fucking mess. I had seen the yellow at the guy’s groin when I had unzipped the bag. First red cock and now a yellow one, and painted cocks were something the police were keeping mum about; so I didn’t even have the half baked suppositions of the media to help me try to guess what it meant. My imagination had been running riot ever since; but now it had been several days and still there had been no sign that the killer retained any interest in Justin and I - nothing beyond the likeness of the dead guy to the teen. I reminded myself that the paint can had not been found for nearly a week but as time passed I had slowly begun to hope that any previous interest in us had been instigated by the fact we had discovered the body and now it would be time to torment someone new. Justin shifted a little still partially covered by my body and groaned softly. He was sore. I grinned and feathered kisses along his shoulder as my hand slid down his rib cage. Of course he was sore, I knew what the fuck I was doing. He would not be sore enough to really bother him, just enough for the twinges to remind him who he fucking belonged to. That thought froze my lips on his skin. Where the fuck had that come from? I had wondered a couple times recently if I was losing my mind and now I had proof that I was completely off the goddamn deep end. The fucking little twat did not belong to me. I jerked away from him like I had been scalded. “Get the fuck up.” I told him abruptly my voice rough, “ you’ve got fifteen minutes to get ready.” There was no movement on his side of the bed as he tried to reason through what had just happened. I reached for a cigarette but I didn’t turn to face him. I knew the reproach that would be in his eyes. Fuck that. He wasn’t mine, any more than I belonged to him; he belonged only to his fucking self. Christ. His weight left the bed and shortly after that I heard the shower start. Despite my annoyance the sound induced a vision of him sleek and wet under the spray of water; after a second or two I ground out the cigarette. If I got ready now, I could go straight to the office after I dropped him off. Before the thought was fully formed I was closing the shower door behind me. Justin turned to face me his hands in lost in the thick lather covering his head. He looked surprised. “I’m not going to work smelling like your goddamn cum.” I told him and wiped the hand I had used to jerk him off down the front of his chest. Our eyes followed the path of my touch and watched his cock grew hard. “Fucking kid.” I grumbled mockingly licking my lips as I met his eyes again. His eyes brightened with anticipation and water washed over him. It slid over his sleek muscles and beaded random paths across his skin. His hands were still in his hair when I reached up and curled a hand around the back of his neck pulling him to me. He brought his body fully against me without protest. I caught his gasp in my kiss when his cock pressed against my skin. It was already a throbbing burning brand between us despite the fact he had shot off less than five minutes ago. ‘The trials of fucking youth.’ I thought to myself as I backed him out of the hot spray and against the wall of the shower. He tried to turn in my arms but I stopped him firmly. Christ, who the fuck did this kid think I was? One thing I wasn’t, was ready to fuck him again so soon. I wasn’t the goddamn 17 year old. I took his arms from where he had wrapped them around my neck and let my tongue begin to map the trail of water droplets that sprinkled his skin. I began with his ridiculous nipple ring, flipping it expertly with my tongue. He always made some fucking incredible sounds when I did that and so I did it again. His hands threaded through my damp hair and I lifted my head to look at him. His head was thrown back against the glass of the shower wall. The soapy water from his hair was running in his face forcing him to keep his eyes closed. He arched towards me reminding me of my purpose and my lips resumed their path down his body. Licking the water from the flat planes of his abs. I nipped his skin there. His body was taut with youth and not from strenuous exercise, the truth was Justin rarely saw the inside of a gym he was particularly lazy that way. And so rather than his body being corded with rock hard muscle he was softer, not fat or slack just…softer. I buried my face in the tender flesh of his belly for a moment. I enjoyed his body, maybe more than I could remember ever taking pleasure in anyone before, but that is all that it was, pleasure. I had seen the speculative looks being thrown my way not just by my fucking friends but others on the fringe of my acquaintance. They were watching and waiting, some of the assholes actually anticipating that they were going to see Brian Kinney fall at last. I was sorry to disappoint them but not in this goddamn life time. No matter what they thought or how many times I fucked him; just fucking is all it was…and I needed to find the damn kid somewhere else to stay before he started to believe the rumors, but not just now. I licked the head of his cock and swallowed it relishing the choked cry he gave and the way his fingers tightened in my hair It didn’t take long, I deep-throated him a few times, sucking his cock like it was made of candy, it might have been the damn thing was sweet enough. I’d take Justin’s cock over an all-day-sucker anytime…god knows the fucking thing would probably last just as long. Just minutes after I had sank to my knees in front of him he was quivering under my skillful touch and shooting his load down my throat, his hands fisted in my hair as his hips thrust forward reflexively. My name was the shuddering cry that fell from his perfect lips. I couldn’t deny the satisfaction I got from how freely he used my name when we would fuck, I liked having him at my mercy. Hell, I just plain liked fucking him. I stood up and pulled him back into the spray, it had cooled slightly and I reached around him to adjust the temperature. “Christ Brian!” he yelped and jumped out of the water his skin already splotched and red from the sudden increase in temperature. Soap from his hair ran into his eyes and he was rubbing them with the back of his hand. Holy God he looked young doing that. Goddamn sensitive baby. I adjusted it again and tugged his hand; he came back into the water with me hesitantly. “Fuck that hurt.” He grumbled. I turned his face up to the water helping him to rinse the soap out of his eyes and his hair. “You’ll live.” I told him and turned him around to wash his back. I ran the cloth down his spine to his round ass and as I soaped it considered my half erect dick. He was going to be late anyhow…what the fuck…I slipped a finger inside him. ~*~ I was in an evil mood when I arrived at the office. I growled for coffee when I walked past Cynthia’s desk. Justin had been late to school and now I was late for work. When I had pulled up in front of the school to drop him off the kid had sat in the jeep eyeing the school building, the yard in front of it eerily devoid of movement. “I’m late.” He muttered. Ok that had been a fucking news flash. “And?” I prompted him. He turned to look at me, his face was no longer flushed and blurry eyed with sex. It was very young and nearly scared. Christ what do they do to him in that goddamn place? “What if they call my Dad?” the true source of his fear surfaced and I felt my temper stir. Fuck the asshole that fathered this kid. I leaned over and breathed in his ear. “Then I’ll have to spank you, sonny boy.” When I sat up his cheeks were flushed and his fear seemed to have faded. He leaned over to grab his book bag from the floorboard. When he sat up he met my eyes again; I gave him a cocky grin. He smiled slightly but I could tell his worry that he would have to face his father was eating a whole in his gut. Fuck that. “Wait.” I told him when he started to get out. I pulled my pen out of a pocket. “Give me some paper.” His blue eyes bright with curiosity he dug a sheet out of his book bag that looked like it had been through WWI. I considered myself lucky this was a good sheet. I scribbled something on it and handed it to him. He looked down at it and finally I got a laugh out of him. “Justin is late because I brought him late. I was in a very tight spot this morning and couldn’t get out of it in time to bring him earlier. Brian Kinney.” He stuck his tongue out at me, sassy piece of baggage that he is and got out of the jeep. He slung his books over his shoulder and shoved his note in his pocket. He was turning away when I called his name. He turned back to face me. His expression bleak. “If they call your goddamn father, call me.” I told him abruptly and all the tension drained out of his face. I don’t know why the fuck I said that but it was almost worth it to see him return to himself. I remembered the way that bastard had treated Justin and the times his temper had driven him to attack me. No, the boy didn’t need to face that with no one in his corner. “Really?” he asked his voice incredulous. “I don’t say things I don’t fucking mean. Go to school you’re late.” I left him standing on the curb staring after me but I had no doubt that he went inside. He was probably hoping they would call his damn father. By the time Cynthia came in with the coffee I had my current account spread out over my desk. She set the cup down and glanced at what I was frowning at, tires…black ugly tires, it had not been that long ago I had lost a tire account. Not for lack of ideas but because I wouldn’t fuck a middle aged bastard who cared more about getting his dick sucked than his family. Now here I sat staring at another group of fucking tires. Christ this job sucked sometimes. I grunted thanks at her and she smiled brightly at me, ignoring my glower she headed for the door. “If Justin calls put him through.” I told her shortly without looking up. I didn’t need to see her to know she had that look. “Sure boss.” She told me a bit too casually. Fucking women. I sat back and lit a cigarette. Smoking and sipping at the nearly scalding coffee I stared at the tires. How do you sell something that looked just like every other goddamn one on the market? I consider the ideas I had presented to the other company but they had gone with a slightly butchered version of my presentation when they had chosen a firm. That had royally pissed me off but there was little I could do. Still the current client would not be likely to take kindly to a copy cat idea even if the cat I was copying was myself. I flipped through the pictures, in my mind I stacked and unstacked them . I stood them on edge, I balanced them on a flag pole and rolled them with and without a car. I stacked them again and this time Justin popped out naked from the center, Fuck. I reached in my drawer for a pencil maybe I could write something out. I needed to do something to focus my thoughts. Cloth met my touch instead of the smooth wood of a pencil and I was baffled for a moment but then I remembered dropping Justin’s underwear in there. It had gotten shuffled back to the front somehow. I grinned and pulled the briefs out. My hand had not cleared the drawer completely when I caught my first sight of them. My hand fisted in the cotton material and I felt like I had been kicked in the chest. I stared at the once white underwear unable to breathe; no longer the pristine white they had once been, they were now stained with bright yellow paint and what was very clearly blood. I choked back a yell, dropped them back into the drawer and slammed it shut. I ran my hands through my hair as I tried to catch my breath. What the fuck was going on? And on the heels of that thought, call Justin. I fumbled the phone out of my pocket and had dialed him before I could stop myself. He answered immediately and the constriction around my chest eased slightly. I could hear the noise of the school in the background. “Brian,” he said though he didn’t sound as surprised as the last time. He sounded distracted. “The weirdest shit just happened.” My hand tightened on the phone after what I just found hearing that weird shit had happened to him was not something I wanted to hear. I managed to curb my impatience and let him tell me what had happened. “I got in my locker for my books and there was this box in there. Hair dye.” My stomach churned, Christ maybe I was going to puke. “Don’t you keep it locked? How the fuck could he have put it in there?” I demanded. A box of hair dye was too damn close to a can of paint for me. I had never been so completely out of control of anything in my life as I was this situation. I didn’t like the panic fluttering at the edge of my reason and I was totally pissed off that someone was fucking with us like this. I realized too late that I sounded like I knew who had done it but he was too distracted to notice the fucking slip. I was going to have to be lot more goddamn careful than that if I didn’t want to end up with a freaked out twink on my hands. “Fuck Brian. How do I know? It was locked but anyone could get these locks open if they wanted to. The weirdest thing was that there wasn’t any dye in it, just a note.” I heard him fumbling with something and then away from the phone he muttered, “it’s Brian. I’m telling him about this weird assed note I got. No, I’m not going to the principal; it’s nothing. Like they give a fuck about me anyhow.” I could feel my tension winding tighter and it was all I could do not to scream at him to just tell me what the damn note said. “I can’t find it, never mind it said something like ‘one so beautiful…needful of rest’ and…um something about um sleeping…” I heard Daphne’s voice in the background again barely distinguishable above the hallway noise. “Yea that was it…soon you must sleep…for there are your dreams.’ Probably that damn Hobbs but why would he do something freaky like this? He usually just slams me into the lockers or something.” I could tell that Justin wasn’t really worried about it; as far as he was concerned it was a silly school prank easily tossed into the trash and forgotten. “What color was the hair dye?” I asked him trying to make my voice as casual as I could manage. “That was the other fucked up thing. Blonde. Like I fucking dye my hair or some shit. Asshole.” He was really annoyed by the idea that someone thought he was not a natural blond. I could assure them that he was indeed completely natural from head to cock. Christ what fucking difference did that make? “Where’s the box?” I demanded. He hesitated sensing for the first time that something was not quite right with me. “I thought it was in my pack but I must have tossed it, it’s gone. That’s weird though cause I wanted to show it to you when I got home.” I heard more poking around, and he asked Daphne if she had it. “No,” I heard the shrug in his voice, “It’s not here. I don’t know where I dropped it at. Is something wrong? Why’d you call…” a bell blared in the phone and I jerked it away from me ear. When I replaced it he was still talking, “Christ I have to go to class. I’ll talk to you later Brian. bye.” Dead air. I stared at the damn phone. I could feel my temper rising in direct proportion to my fear. Sleep soon…fuck. That was almost a direct threat. I stood up unable to remain seated at my desk and moved agitatedly around the office. I rubbed my fingers through my hair and stared out at the hallway through the blinds in my window. I had to get him out of my fucking loft. No more jerking around, it was past time for him to go and I felt like it was becoming increasingly unsafe for him to remain anywhere near me. If he hadn’t lost the note and the box maybe I would call the police this time, but there was still my fear they would try to blame him. Justin who was so often alone in my loft and so was very likely without an alibi. There was also my dead certainty they would not listen to me at all. I wouldn’t call the police but I did know a place I could take him that he would be safe. It was time for my boy to go back home. I buzzed Cynthia “Yes boss?” her competent voice answered at once. “I remembered a business meeting. I’ll be gone the rest of the afternoon.” I shoved the papers on my desk into a file, Christ I seemed to ditch work more than I stayed here. That wouldn’t matter as long as I got the damn copy right. I shoved the underwear into my pocket and pulled on my jacket, I was going to beard the lion in his den. ~*~ When I arrived at the state of the art office complex it took only minutes to locate the one I was looking for. I smiled my most winning smile at the secretary behind the desk in the affluent reception area. “Is this Mr. Taylor’s office?” I inquired hesitantly as if I didn’t want to interrupt whatever important task she might be involved in. She smiled in return and reached for her appointment book. “Yes it is, and what is your name sir?” she asked pleasantly. I smiled sheepishly. “I don’t have an appointment, you see I am a friend of Mr. Taylor’s and I would like to surprise him. We haven’t seen each other in a while.” I tried to sound as convincing as I could but her friendly smile slipped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.” She told me and set her leather bound book to the side preparing to return to her typing. “I’m sure you can make an exception.” I whispered leaning closer over her desk, I could be as charming as any breeder when I had to, “His son Justin has stayed with me upon occasion and since I was in the city, I thought I would stop by and surprise him.” The bastard was going to be surprised alright but my invocation of Justin’s name worked it’s magic. Her suspicions laid to rest she positively beamed at me. “Well, to be honest Mr. Taylor is not busy at the moment. I think it will be ok for you to go back, Mr.?” She was reaching for her phone to buzz and announce me but I was already headed for the door, I met her eyes again for a moment and my tongue found my cheek. “Kinney,” I told her, “Tell him Brian is here.” When I opened the door to reveal the well appointed office, Taylor was telling his secretary that he absolutely wouldn’t talk to me. His eyes met mine and a cold hatred flared in his. I shrugged it off, whatever he felt for me was small compared to the contempt I felt for his sorry goddamned ass. “Never mind.” He snapped into the receiver and hung up. “What do you…” but I wasn’t about to give him the upper hand by letting him either begin or control this meeting. “You don’t mind if I sit do you?” I asked plopping down in one of the pair of leather chairs in front of his oak desk. I propped my feet on the edge of the desk and reached for a cigar, “or smoke.” I let him fume as I lit the cigar, ah Cuban and very damn good. I blew a smoke ring and then another. “What in the hell are you doing here Kinney?” he demanded his face already starting to turn a very nice shade of red. “I’ve come to talk to you about your son.” I told him bluntly. “it’s time for him to go home.” “Tired of him already? You goddamn gay bastard. You fucked him and now you want to throw him back . I knew this was going to happen. Well, you tell him he can come home when he’s done with this nonsense and not a day before.” He leaned over his desk towards me his eyes narrow with contempt, “Now get out before I call the cops and have your ass strung up for molesting a minor.” I rubbed my fingers against my forehead and dropped his mostly unsmoked fifty dollar cigar into the crystal ashtray sitting prominently on the corner of his desk. My feet hit the floor and I leaned forward slowly. “You want to play hard ball Taylor? Well let me throw the first fucking pitch. You go ahead and call the goddamn cops and my first call won’t be to my lawyer, it’ll be to the fucking newspaper. Now that would make a pretty fucking headline don’t you think? Prominent business man has son who takes it up the ass.” I watched his face turn red and then nearly purple, the insufferable bastard, but the tainted underwear in my pocket weighted down my temper. This man might be the prick of the year but Justin would be safe at home. “Fuck you, Kinney.” His voice was harsh but he didn’t reach for the phone. I knew he wouldn’t above all else no one could know about Justin, “ I’ve made myself clear. When Justin is ready to stop playing at being a faggot he can come home. Until then he’s on his own. He made his choice and he can live with it. I’ll pay for his school until he graduates and his college if he can get his mind off his cock long enough to go. I will not support him in the debauchery with which he has chosen to live his life. He cannot come back to my house just because his playmate is tired of him. The way I see it if he gets a little cold and hungry that’ll clear his mind up more quickly than anything else. No one asked you to be his keeper, Kinney. If he wants to be the big man on his own then let him but whatever you decide to do that goddamn boy will not step foot inside my house again until he admits that he is wrong and apologizes to myself and his mother.” My vision went red and serial killers were forgotten. My intentions to reintegrate Justin with his family were now ash. Whatever else happened the boy would not be sent back into this. “You think if he gets hungry he’ll come home?” I exclaimed in disbelief, no one was this fucking stupid, didn’t this asshole watch the evening news? “You want me to put him in the street and let him take care of himself so that he’ll get desperate enough to come crawling back to you? For your information gay boys don’t crawl back home to their Daddies and beg forgiveness. They hustle the streets and turn tricks until one day they are HIV positive because they let someone fuck them bareback for the extra fifty dollars, and then they just keep hustling until they die from it. Either because there is no money for medicine or because there was no one to make them take it if they do manage to get it…or else they finally end up with a really bad trick and the next day they are found in an alley or a garbage can and then at least he won’t ever be fucking hungry again.” I breathed deeply trying to reign my temper in but failed spectacularly. The idea that this man was willing to throw Justin to the sharks of Liberty Avenue completely infuriated me. “I want you to understand something you goddamn asshole and it’s the something you will have to come grips with if you ever hope to have a son again. Justin is gay. I didn’t make him gay, you sure didn’t fucking do it. For fuck’s sake why would he want a guy like dear old dad, when dear old dad is such a prick? Justin is gay because he is. No matter what you do or say, no matter what methods you use to try and bend him to your will, your son will never be a fucking breeder out there knocking back beers with the boys and chasing pussy. He likes hard bodies and hard cock and there is nothing that you or I or he can do that will ever change that. Maybe you can make him deny it. Maybe with the right tactics you can lock him in the goddamn closet and push him into marriage with some blonde bimbo, but you can never make him stop wanting cock.” The man was gasping like a beached fish. I had pushed him all the way to the end of his temper. His face was scarlet and I suspected that if we were anywhere besides his office he would have already attacked me. I wasn’t completely convinced he wouldn’t anyhow. He was on his feet and blustering on the other side of the desk like an enraged bull. The veins in his neck throbbed and his hands fisted at his sides. “It is none of your goddamn business how I discipline my son.” He snapped, “Now you will remove yourself from the premises of this building or I will call security and have you forcibly removed. “What you do to your son became my goddamn business when you fucking gave him to me.” I snarled as I planted my fists on the desk and leaned forward until we were nearly nose to nose, “You attacked me twice, you label me a child molester but when he left your house with me there was no outcry made then and there has been nothing since. The boy talks to his mother but his own fucking father has nothing to do with him. You could have called him back that night. You could have worked out an arrangement that all of you could have lived with but to preserve your own reputation because ‘OH MY GOD! what would the Jonseys do if they found out that Justin is a HOMO’ you let your son leave with a man you didn’t even know. A man you knew was going to take him home and fuck him. Right now you would rather he was starving in the streets than accept him back. I have one thing to say to you Taylor. Fuck you.” I shoved him by the shoulders so that he fell backwards into his chair, his eyes widened as if he expected me to come over the desk but I had enough of his bull shit. I turned and moved across the room to the door, my hand was on the knob when I turned back once more. “One other thing Mr. Taylor, you might not want to take bets on when that boy of yours will be crawling back to you, because as long as I have anything to say about it Justin will never be hungry or cold. He will never need a goddamn thing that you have to offer. I can teach him the one thing that every faggot has to learn and that is we don’t need you fucking hetero’s to make it. He is going to make a goddamn fine queer one day and you can bet your sorry fucking ass that I’ll do everything in my power to see that it happens. Christ he’s out at school, all your high and mighty friends already fucking know your dirty little secret. I guess they haven’t said anything to you because they see the same thing I do; Justin doesn’t need a boyfriend, you fuck him better than anyone else ever could.” He came after me then but I stepped through the door and closed it. The secretary sat at her desk her eyes wide though she tried to pretend she was working when I made my grand exit. The door didn’t open behind me and I wondered if I had given the bastard a stroke. I paused beside her desk briefly but she didn’t meet my eyes it was clear she had heard every word. “Sorry about that.” I told her glibly, “I had no idea he was still so pissed about Justin sucking my dick.” I shrugged, “Some people really hold a grudge and it’s such a shame, the boy is a natural. You might want to check on Pops pretty soon he may just explode in there.” She still didn’t look up though her face suffused with color. My temper simmered as I walked through the halls and back to the parking lot. I still didn’t have a place for the damn kid to stay but hell would freeze over before I would send him back home. ~*~ “Brian!” Lindsay sounded surprised but she opened the door wider and let me in. My son rested comfortably in the crook of her arm and I leaned to kiss his cheek. He was asleep and so I didn’t try to take him but I felt the now familiar pang in my heart as I looked on his sweet innocent face. I wondered if one day I would forget this feeling and find myself hating him for what he had become. “No fucking way.” I muttered, “Hello sonny boy.” And I let Lindsay move away to lay him in his basket. I had questioned the basket but she insisted that it made him feel more secure and what the fuck did I know about it? Not enough to argue with her that’s for damn sure and he never seemed to protest being there so I supposed she was right. I had moved away from them and was staring out the front window into their small yard. “Brian is something wrong?” she asked gently. Lindsay is always gentle with me. She often treats me like she believes I am fragile in some brittle sort of way and might one day simply shatter without warning. I shook my head. Even though I had come here I didn’t want to talk about it. Sometimes when things were not going smoothly, just being in the presence of her calming spirit was enough. She walked up behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder, I leaned my head against hers. “I went to see Justin’s dad today.” I told her finally. And she breathed a heavy sigh. “Why would you do that?” she asked, in anyone else’s voice I would have heard an accusation but not in hers. I shrugged. She wasn’t about to let me get away with that. “Brian.” She said sternly, “You told me what happened before, why would you go there?” “It’s time for him to go.” I told her, “It’s been too long now, Justin is a kid. He needs his mommy. It is time for him to go home.” I tried to move away from her but her hand tightened slightly on my shoulder and I remained in place as if I had been anchored. “You might have thought about that before you fucked him.” She told me blandly. Fuck. I jerked away from her and stalked across the room. “He was getting fucked that night by someone, Christ he didn’t come all the way down here to go home a fucking virgin.” I turned back to face her, “He was lucky as shit he got me and you know it. Goddamn kid like that…fuck.” I ran a hand back through my hair and failed to meet her eyes. We both knew I could have given a rat’s ass for Justin that night. He had been a shiny new toy for me to indulge myself with. That was then…this was…now I..Christ it was past time for the god damn kid to go. Lindsay’s eyes widened and that look women get when they think they know something about you appeared on her face. She stared at me and a smile quirked her lips. “Why Brian Kinney.” She said glibly, “I do believe you are in danger of falling.” She paused and the glib tone disappeared from her voice, “Do you have to run Brian, do you?” She was standing in front of me now and the smell of her perfume combined with sweet baby smells drifted to me. I reached out and touched her hair as she looked at me with eyes that always seemed to see to the very depths of my soul. When I was with her and she looked at me like that there seemed to be things lurking just at the edge of what was possible that were wholly impossible at any other time. And the possibility that hovered in this moment throbbed and pulsed with the promise of a thing that I had shielded myself against from time out of mind. Despite my constant protests to the contrary, I knew there was love in this world, there was even love in my life but not that gooey romantic bullshit that hetero’s and dykes were forever bleating about but real love. I had Michael and Lindsay and I counted myself lucky. That kind of love was reality. Romantic love was goddamn horseshit and I knew it, but there were moments like this one when I was looking into her eyes filled with idealistic dreams not only for her and our son but for me, that even I could almost believe. I was used to him being there. How hard would it be to just keep him? Ice cold fear wrapped around my heart and squeezed; to do that would involve a measure of trust that I did not possess. I was a fag and fags did not tie themselves to one partner. There was always another hard body, another dick you hadn’t tasted, another ass you hadn’t fucked and all of them more exciting, and more provoking that the familiar twat sitting on your couch at home waiting for you to come in the door so he could bitch at you. No matter how you tried there would be that meeting of eyes, the spark of desire and the frenzied mating in an alley, a backseat or the backroom. Men were not fucking designed for monogamy. I kissed her and stepped back breaking the moment. “You know me better than that.” I shook my head and tapped her nose with my finger, “I don’t believe in love, I believe in…” “Fucking. Yes you make that perfectly clear often enough.” She sighed and it was not hard to see that she was disgruntled with me. She liked Justin and it would suit her artistic nature and thrill her romantic soul for me to discover my happily ever after with him, too fucking bad this was real life. I stuck my hand in my pocket and my fingers wrapped around the stained underwear I had put there earlier. This was about more than whether I believed in love or not, and it was more than a matter of getting him out before things got any more complicated than they had already become. “He has to go.” I told her again, the baby gurgled and sighed and she went to check on him. I watched her lean over and fuss with his blanket. The love and devotion she felt for him in every line of her body; another kind of love that was real, though I had not believed in it before Gus. “He can come here.” Satisfied the baby still slept she turned to face me, “Mel and I both like him. He wouldn’t be a problem.” I hesitated. I loved Lindsay but Melanie…Christ, would I really subject Justin to that bitch…though that would certainly be one way to cure him of his idealistic impression of me. A steady dose of Melanie would undoubtedly succeed where all other measures had failed. “No.” I said bluntly, offering no explanation. I dropped into an over stuffed chair and contemplated my narrow range of options. Lindsay frowned at me and sat on the couch. She knew where that no had come from but she didn’t protest it. “What about Deb? She would take him.” I nodded I had considered that already. I knew that Deb and Vic would take him in a heartbeat. The trouble there was that Michael hated Justin and he would be beyond pissed if Deb put the blond twink into his old room and there was the matter of money. “They can’t afford it.” I told her, “He eats like a fucking cow and he’s the damnedest clothes horse I ever saw.” She laughed. “Well send him to the farm then.” She teased me and I narrowed my eyes at her, she best watch it I knew every ticklish spot she had, she raised her hands in a peace keeping signal, “Who’s been paying up till now?” she asked and I raised a brow at her. She got that damn “ah ha” look again and my tongue poked at my cheek, fucking woman. “So keep paying. You can afford it and they won’t tell Justin if you ask them not to. I think Deb would do nearly anything to get that boy out of your evil clutches.” She laughed at me but I considered what she was saying. That actually seemed like a workable solution and one that I hadn’t thought-out. “I hadn’t planned to support him for the rest of his fucking life.” I said sarcastically, Lindsay was immune to me. She rolled her eyes. “Think about it, Brian, it could be the perfect solution and it’s not like you aren’t already supporting him. How much difference could it really make?” I simply nodded, unwilling to truly commit but I was already considering approaching Vic about the matter. Maybe it was something that could be worked out after all. I rubbed my hand over my face. Christ, Justin was going to throw a screaming fit about this. It was going to be fucking impossible to make him understand why I was putting him out, too bad he behaved himself so goddamn well. It would make things a lot easier if he kept trashing the loft or something. Fuck it that was beside the damn point, it was my place and it was time for him to get the fuck out. I kissed Lindsay and left her sitting slightly bemused alone with my son. I climbed into my jeep but instead of heading for the loft I turned back towards work. I hadn’t intended to but suddenly, born full fledged in my brain, was the solution to my tire dilemma. “Let us carry you safely over life’s roughest roads.” Goddamn breeder concept but it would sell tires. I could just see Cynthia’s face when she heard it. “How’s Justin” she would ask with that infernal smug little smile. Like he had any goddamn thing to do with this. Fucking women. TBC Comments are the stuff the next chapter is built on