A/N: Once again, Brian wouldn't shut up, so most of this chapter is his POV... Brian I know I had intended to take Justin to bed right after everyone was gone. But naturally, things didn't turn out like I had planned. First of all, he insisted we turn the loft back into what it was like before the family got here. Meaning we spent two fucking hours filling and refilling the dishwasher, putting out garbage, and cleaning away the general mess our friends left in their wake. I could have thought of a great many more entertaining – and satisfying – things we could have done. And then Justin sat me down on the sofa and made me talk about last night. Or rather, he tried to. Because when he was just starting off with one of his well-placed questions – I hate those by the way, they always make me anxious – his stomach started to growl at us. Saved by the monster, for the time being... I could only chuckle. Which, of course, made him glare at me. Too bad. But when his belly began to grumble in earnest, he snatched up the take-out menus. Shit, I should have known... Despite all the food he's been eating during the party, Justin demanded pizza for dinner. Bottomless pit! One of these days he'll explode. I just know it. And who will be left to deal with all the mess? Huh? Me! That's probably his plan... Anyway, he orders and soon we are sitting on the sofa, and he's devouring his fucking Italian speciality – with extra cheese – while I'm picking at my salad. Cause even though he didn't manage to question me about ... well, my little trip into panic-land, he still got me thinking. Besides, I'm still trying to come to terms with all the things that happened today. I'd never admit it to anyone, but I was a wreck this morning – very much like I had been after the Rage party. All I could think was, 'Please don't let anything happen to him.' Of course, after the abomination had been found, my thoughts were more along the lines of, 'What the fuck is going on in that blond head of yours, Taylor?' Well, he'll never do it again. Or else... Else he'll have many people on his heels. And I know that he never wants to get on the wrong side of Debbie, or Linz, or Mikey – or me! Mikey really surprised me today. He was so pissed, and I know it had pretty much nothing to do with me – and everything with Justin. I think he finally sees my Sunshine as his friend, another best friend. I'm so proud of him – I'm so proud of both of them. They have come a long way, just like Justin and I have. Anyway, those first minutes and hours of the day were anything but nice. And I was so fucking scared. I think I have to thank Linz, Mikey, and yes, even Mel for staying with me, for seeing me through it all. Later on, after Carl Horvath mentioned credit cards and stuff, I could have kissed that nice girl from my credit card company. Because she had found Justin, in a way... And then, I finally had Justin back, and I had the feeling that something was falling back into place. Like I'm not whole when the little shit isn't around. Pathetic, I know. But it's also the truth. I only have to recall that night after the Rage party – the night I spent alone, wrapped around his sweater – and I know that it's the truth. He completed my life – even though I was kicking and screaming almost all the way. And I never want to go back to the pitiful excuse for a human being I was before. Fuck, did I really just think that? Shit. I'm so screwed, especially since this – as Justin calls it – new version of me is more content and happier than I've ever been. Thanks to the blond twink who's currently ogling the pieces of grilled chicken breast on my salad. Bottomless pit indeed. Only then do I realise that he didn't have any dinner last night, nor any breakfast this morning. The fiddler apparently thought they could live on love. Fuck! No wonder Justin ate like one starving as soon as the party was in full swing. We should have stopped at the diner on our way to the loft, or at a McDonalds or something like that. "You know, if you need further nutrition, there's some Thai in the fridge. I ordered it for you last night, so..." Not to mention half of my dinner, which I couldn't stomach after worry got the better of me... He shakes his head, and informs me that he's going to take a shower. I know he expects me to join him, but for some reason I want our first time after the kidnapping to be something special and not just a quick fuck under the spray. I know, that's so very lesbian that I should get sick, but I don't. Because it is something the old Brian would have done, and he's no longer who I am. Shit. My life is so fucked up... And the worst thing is that I don't want it to change in any way. I want to be a fucking dyke about some things, cause this apparently is what Justin wants, what he needs. Must be the artist in him... Anyway, instead of following him, I clean up the remains of dinner. And continue to ponder. Been doing that a lot since he came back to me, I know... Claire, my behated sister – I honestly couldn't believe my eyes when she stood in front of the door. Thank God Justin was there, right by my side. Otherwise I might have slammed the fucking door shut... Claire surprised me, and I hate surprises. But she seemed to be sincere, seemed willing to start over. And she liked Justin right away – a big selling point as far as I'm concerned – and that's what really stunned me. It was as if it didn't matter anymore that we are fags – her homophobia all but gone, replaced by worry for me. She was just genuinely happy that I had found someone I could open up to. She told me as much – right after apologising for all the years she stood back and watched our old man beat the shit out of me. Now that was a real shock. I had never expected anything like this, not from Claire, and certainly not from Joan. But both of them tried to explain their actions, in their own special ways. Though I somehow didn't believe my mother when she told me how often she had let Jack hit her to protect me. Claire ... Claire is different, though. She was a victim of our parents just like me. I sometimes wished we could join forces and be strong together. But then Jack would throw me down the stairs once more or something, and I would hate my sister again. Because she stood back and let it happen. Fuck! We've made so many mistakes, but I'll be damned if I add to them now. So I assured Claire that it didn't matter anymore, that she couldn't have done anything. And I fucking meant it. Cause she was only a few years older than me – what could she have done? Except for bringing Jack's wrath upon herself? Can I really blame her for not doing that? No, I can't. But I can try to be a brother to her. Yes, that's something I can do, I should do. And Justin will help me, like he always does. Oh damn! Dyke, dyke, dyke! After our little bonding experience, Debbie actually went out of her way and invited Claire – and the Spawn – for her usual Thanksgiving dinner, and I know that we have to give my dearest nephews a once-over before that. Otherwise there will be bloodshed, I just know it. John and Peter have obviously spent too much time with their grandmother, and have taken one thing to heart – fags are bad and it's okay to hate them and to torture them, and God knows what else. And Claire wasn't helping matters along, either. After all, I was the big bad wolf, wasn't I? Her faggot brother who had more money than he could possibly need – except for his depraved fairy things. I never helped them out when they were in need. Oh yes, I was something like the bogeyman, the queer version. Shit, I can already hear their scathing remarks, and while I don't mind them, I know Justin would. Justin, who had been giving Claire and me some time alone, had joined us again at that point, and came up with the brilliant idea of introducing Peter and John to Molly. Claire was confused of course, having heard the little fucker's earlier remark to Gus. So Justin explained just how terrible his little sister really is. Jennifer would have had a fit if she had heard. Then again, maybe she would have agreed, albeit reluctantly. After all, the Mollusc is still her daughter, even though she drives everyone and their dogs crazy. Anyway, so Justin described his plan and we all agreed that something had to be done about the boys, so we might give it a try. Yup, once again it was Sunshine who helped to get things on track... I think we have a theme here, boys and girls. Whenever I'm in need, Justin is there to assist me – and I'm no longer afraid of needing him. Of course, I'm never going to tell him. Unless... I think it would make a nice addition to any vow... Oh shit. I know it's stupid to be nervous about an actual ceremony since I'm already committed to him as much as humanly possible. I mean, I stopped tricking for him, didn't I?! Looking back, I realise that it wasn't a conscious decision at first. I just – after Justin came back to me, I didn't want anyone else. I needed to assure myself that he was truly mine – over and over again. And I finally allowed him to be himself more often. Because he is a natural top, and only bottoms for me. Oh yes, I noticed. He's not as versatile as he would like me to believe – and I actually like that. No one but me knows his tight little ass intimately, and that's a very nice thought. Anyway, I know I never intended to be much of a bottom - for anyone. Because no one ever managed to make it worth my while, and then I created my Stud of Liberty Avenue faηade, and it was out of the question. But with Justin... Fuck, I think I'd even let him fuck me in the backroom of Babylon now, and that says a lot, doesn't it. Yes, I discovered the perks of being on the receiving end, and by now, I can't say that I prefer to be in charge anymore. Giving over control to him is actually liberating. And, if I'm honest here, it doesn't matter who dominates our love-making. The important thing is that we are together. Gods, that's so mawkish! At any rate, in the beginning I didn't even realise that I wasn't tricking – at all. And then the fiddle fuck shot me, and I had plenty of time to think things over. And I figured that I could at least try to keep up my no-tricking status, that I should try! Because I knew how much being exclusive meant to Justin. And yes, to me as well. Cause the knowledge of being the only one who touched him was – well, I was high on it as if it was some very good E. But I was still uncertain if I could really do it. Old habits die slowly, after all. And then he fainted in front of me when the memories of the Prom came crashing down on him. And somehow him remembering the best night of his life – the best night of our lives – triggered my decision to be with him – and him only. Suddenly, I wasn't afraid of failing anymore, cause nothing I would ever have with a trick could compare to what Justin and I share. Besides, I'm still Brian Fucking Kinney, and Brian Kinney doesn't go for second best – ever. And it's been better than best since our first night in Paris. At some point, Justin jokingly stated that I only wanted to do it raw because of all the money I was saving in condoms. True to form, I acted as if he'd caught me, even though we both knew that it was complete bullshit. The truth is that I never want to go back to the fucking rubbers. Yeah, I can say that even after all my 'safe sex' lectures. Besides, we are safe, safer than we've ever been when using condoms. Because we're fucking monogamous. I still hate that word – though the concept certainly has its appeal. I don't want to go back – not after the experience of being able to stay in him for as long as I want, without having to worry about getting rid of the condom. 'Now what brought these musings on, Kinney?' Ah, yes. I've been thinking about vows and ceremonies. Well, we've already had our share of both – like when he made up those godforsaken rules, or when we signed those papers, or just recently, when we both agreed that this was really and truly what we both wanted. So one or two more won't kill me – I hope. Maybe I should add some good memories to the bad ones that will always be linked to the day after my birthday... It's still more than half a year away, which will give me enough time to plan everything – maybe even another trip to Vermont... Or maybe not. If I marry – and yes, I still remember what I've been saying about gay marriage – that it was a farce, which, by it's very nature, was doomed to fail. But if I do get married, I want it to be legal in Pennsylvania as well. Besides, some people might suffer a stroke from shock. And we can't have that. I hear the shower stop, and moments later Justin stands before me, a towel riding low on his hips. His bare chest is still glistening with moisture, and his blond hair is plastered to his skull. My cock jumps at the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Only ... Justin's frowning. "I thought you were going to join me. I was all alone in the big stall..." He pushes out his lower lip, and suddenly he looks like a five-year-old who didn't get the toy he wanted. Which is correct – in a rather roundabout way. "So what the fuck have you been doing, huh? What was more important than soaping my back ... amongst other things?" He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I give him my patented grin, complete with my tongue pushed into my cheek. I could tell him something the old Brian wouldn't have said on pain of death – or I could give him one of my smartass comment. I opt for the latter. "Oh, I was just wondering how many times I will have to rescue you before you finally stop being an idiot..." He stares, imitates a carp, and stares some more. Then his eyes narrow. Uh-oh. Maybe I should have kept my intelligent remark to myself, cause he doesn't seem to be able to appreciate the humour of it all. Fuck. He puts his hands on his hips, and continues to glower at me. "Like I'm the only one who can screw up royally. I can think of at least one instance when I saved your neck..." His eyes bulge and his hands fly to his lips. He didn't mean to say this. Interesting... I get to my feet and take full advantage of being the taller one. I glare at him, an eyebrow arched in a no nonsense way. "I ... I have to dry my hair before I catch a cold," he tries to get away, but my hands are on his shoulders, and he freezes. My, my, my, Sunshine. Been keeping secrets from me? That's not a very WASPish thing to do. He bites his lower lip now, like he always does when he's nervous. And I wait. --- Justin Fuck. How did I get myself into this situation? And what do I tell him now? I'm sure he could see right trough any shit I try to give him, so that's out of the question. I'm trying to get away again, but his fingers drive into my shoulders, so that's out as well. "Um, you remember that Kip Thomas? Who was suing you for sexual harassment?" He nods. Of course he remembers. "Well, he dropped the charges rather unexpectedly, wouldn't you say?" His eyes turn to tiny slits. Uh-oh. "You know, no one wanted to help you, but I figured that I might... Fuck! I approached him at Woody's, was persistent..." he chuckles, "...and finally he took me home with him. And as he was going down on me, I sorta let it slip that I was still a minor. Oh, and that my father had made this really big fuss about my coming-out and that the first guy I had ever been with was still in prison – for the next ten years..." He gasps. Shit, I really did it! Brian Kinney is speechless. For a moment or two. "You blackmailed him?" Well, I guess you could say that, so I nod in affirmation. "What the fuck have you been thinking?" Um... "Why? Why would you do such a thing? If memory serves I wasn't very nice to you at that time – pushing you away whenever I could, sending all these conflicting signals... You should have gotten the hell out of here instead of getting into the thick of things!" Gods, why is it always one step forward, two backwards with him? "None of your so-called friends were going to help you! None! And I could. Fuck it, Brian. I loved you! And it wasn't a teenage crush, as you should know very well. I loved you! You could have lost your job, for fuck's sake! And still you were willing to give Linz money for Gus. You help everyone! And they didn't even move so much as a finger for you. But I could, and I did!" Fuck, he really knows how to piss me off. "Besides, I know that you would have done the same thing for me if our parts had been reversed – and don't even try to deny it. I know you better than falling for your shit." While I was ranting, enjoying my little queen-out, a smile was slowly spreading over his face, and only now do I see it. "When did you get to be such a clever devil?" I want to tell him that I learnt from the master, but he won't let me. His lips cover mine, and all coherent thought leaves me. Gods, I missed this – and we've been apart for only one fucking night. Shit! His tongue is tracking lazy patters on my lower lip, slowly prying my mouth open. Like he's to ask. I open up and he delves inside, and I see stars when our tongues collide. Fuck! He's practically devouring me, and I can feel the tiny hint of panic there at the seams. He must have been petrified with fear last night – while I was lying on that motel bed, unconscious. If only I could turn back time... He walks me back towards the bedroom, and somehow we make it up the steps, our lips still locked in this endless kiss. His hands are still on my shoulders, and he clutches me tightly, afraid to let me go. Possibly also afraid that I might vanish. Damn it all. Eventually, he has to draw back. His eyes are gleaming as he stares at me, panting. He pushes me down onto the bed, quickly divesting himself of his clothes. "I need you, Justin. Need you..." Fucking allergies, just leave me alone, why don't you? It's just that I never heard him quite like this. There's so much desire in his voice – that's nothing new. Neither is the love – even though I took my sweet time to see it, to listen to it. No, it's the fear in his voice that makes me hold my breath. And I realise that he's not talking about needing to fuck me here, at least not only. He tells me once again that he needs me with him, as his partner, his lover, his fucking non-husband. But I know that it would be stupid to question him about it right now. So I just whisper, "Take me, Bri. Want you inside me..." I do. Sometimes I want him so much that it scares me. And it's only him. I'd never want to share this with anyone else. Least of all with Ethan. Had he done his worst today, he would have taken something away from Brian and me, destroyed part of our special connection – irrevocably. And it would have been hard to come to terms with that. Oh, it wouldn't have endangered our relationship, no. Not in the least. Because despite our rocky beginning, that thing between us isn't based on sex – if ever it was. Cause if it had only been about fucking, he wouldn't have come back for more. There was always something else, something special. Luckily, he didn't realise that I was lost in reverie for a moment here. Else I would have never heard the end of it. No, he was getting the lube, warming it between his fingers. He hadn't done that during our first night, and somehow that thought makes me smile. Then he's slowly preparing me, stretching me first with one, then two, and at last with three fingers. By the time he's done, I'm begging for more – which was the idea, I guess. And finally, he's pushing into me, filling me completely. "Don't ... don't close your eyes. I want to see you..." I think he's really obsessed with my eyes, not that I mind. But sometimes it's getting hard to keep them open. Though ... for him, I'd do anything. Gee... Thank God he can't read my mind, or else he'd have loads of fun teasing me mercilessly about my sappiness. He is moving slowly, until he's finally fully sheathed within me. Fuck, I'd give anything for hard and fast right now. But I'm not going to get it, I know that. And I'm proven right when he draws out leisurely, thrusting back in this unhurried way he's perfected to drive me insane. "Brian... Please... Need more..." Damn it, I didn't want to say that. Didn't want to beg him. And the asshole has the guts to smirk down at me. Well, two can play this game, Mr Kinney. My legs are wrapped around his hips, and I'm using them now to draw him even closer. Soon enough, he groans and scowls. "Fuck it, Justin!" His cock twitches inside my channel, and I know he's a lot closer to coming than he was a few moments ago. I bat my lashes at him, and that does it. "You asked for it, Taylor!" He keeps up his slow pace, but the thrust are more forceful now, and I'm in heaven. I'm split open by his beautiful, long and thick cock, and he's doing some wonderful things to my prostate. I'm aching to touch my dick, but our bodies are pressed so closely together that it's impossible. Not that I'll need the extra stimulation to come undone. I never did when I was with Brian. He knows how to play my body – like an instrument. No – not an instrument. No more fucking music for me. Alright, maybe an Irish jig... He's getting closer and closer to the precipice now, and I'm fighting to hold back, wanting to come with him. When he tenses up, I let go and we're falling together. I think I'll never get enough of this feeling – of him coming inside me with nothing between us. It's like he's shooting liquid fire into me, and I'm loving it. He's dropping onto me, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him tightly. "Thank you, Bri. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for ... for saving me..." He gives me a nervous little smile, and I know that it's too much right now. I have to do something to lighten things up a little. "You know, if you don't want to be glued to me come morning, I think we have to grab a shower, as in now..." Yup, that does it. He's grinning again. Slowly, he rolls away from me, and I bemoan the loss of his dick. But I think if I'm a good boy, I'll going to get a repeat performance in the shower – I can hardly wait. "Then come on, Taylor. Get your ass in gear. I have plans for it after all..." I don't think I ever made it to the bathroom this quickly. When he joins me, the water is already running, and I'm holding out both of my hands to him – in the left is the lovely French soap he uses, in the right the lube. He chooses the right...