--- If Brian hadn't found Justin that night, a million things would be different. You can't expect a face that cute and an ass that hot not to get picked up, so it wouldn't have been Brian who was the kid's first. It would have been Emmett. --- "Look at that kid," Emmett murmurs in Michael's ear, jerking his thumb at a blond boy leaning against a streetlight. Michael shrugs. "He's okay," he mutters, turning his attention somewhere else. "But what about – " "He's more than okay," Ted interrupts. "Except he's so young." With a ringing laugh, Emmett points out, "If he's old enough to stand around on Liberty Avenue, he's old enough to come home with me." He turns around. "Brian can wait, for once," he decides, and thrusts his wallet and cell phone into Michael's hands. "Hold these," he instructs, and sets off decisively toward the boy. Ted rolls his eyes. "Another day, another twinkie." "Oh, well, gee," drawls Brian, stepping out from behind him. "How will they ever decide who gets to be the bottom?" He puts on a high-pitched, lispy, stereotypically gay voice. "'Me first!' 'No, me!' 'I sucked you off!' 'Well, I'm wearing pink undies!'" Ted snorts. Michael, as a certifiable bottoms-only, snickers lightly but shuts up quickly after consideration. For a moment, the three men watch Emmett talking to the boy. From where he stands, Michael can just barely make out the formation of Emmett's lips as he says, "So… you want to come home with me, or what?" And they watch… and the boy nods. "Great," says Brian, and walks over to Emmett. He pulls the man backward by the collar and growls, "Now can you and Blondie over here please get in the car?" Emmett smirks. "You weren't so anxious to leave a minute ago." "Actually, I was," Brian amends. "That was a terrible blow job, by the way." The boy looks nervous. "Um… should I go?" he asks hesitantly, shifting from foot to foot. Quickly, Emmett puts out a hand and hastens to exclaim, "No!" "Well, if you and your friends are – " "No, honey," Emmett says, and slips an arm around the boy's neck. "Come on. Let's go back to my place, okay?" The boy's big blue eyes look up into Emmett's, and Brian could swear he sees a trace of fear before the boy slowly nods. "Okay," he says, and follows Emmett into the car. --- Unfortunately, inside the vehicle, the boy is apparently much more comfortable, perhaps because of the way Emmett's hand is carressing his thigh. Whatever the reason, it is not good, because it means that the boy, who can't be more than eighteen, begins babbling incessantly. "So my name's Justin," he says brightly. "What's yours?" Emmett introduces himself, as well as Michael and Brian and Ted, the latter of whom is not in the car but instead chose to drive his own vehicle. "How old are you, sweetie?" Emmett asks the boy. Nervous, the boy answers, "Uh… old enough." "Very forward," Emmett murmurs. "I like that in a man. Or should I say, 'boy.'" With that, Brian jerks the car to a screeching halt outside of Emmett and Michael's residence. Surprisingly, a man Michael had spotted at Babylon is waiting outside, leaning against a tree. Emmett doesn't notice, and rushes Justin inside; Michael follows hesitantly, not looking forward to hearing sex noises all night. The man leaning against the tree shoots a provocative look at Brian, still in the car. Brian sighs and shrugs, leaning over to open the passenger door. A spring in his step, the trick bounces over, slides inside the car, and barely has the chance to fasten his seat belt before Brian speeds away. --- It isn't long after Brian arrives home and has his hand down the guy's pants when the phone rings. Since the guy isn't all that entertaining anyway, he pulls his hand out of the, ahem, inadequately-sized space and, with his other hand, yanks the phone off the reciever. "What?" he snarls, because of course, that's the way to answer a phone. The guy looks less than thrilled, but sinks to his knees in front of Brian and begins unbuttoning the brunette's pants. Brian shakes his head and flicks the guy on his forehead, and the man grumbles and just kneels there. In the meantime, the conversation on the phone is getting heated. "What? When?" Brian demands, and then makes a few quick promises of "I'm leaving right now" before slamming the phone back down. To the trick, he growls, "Get the fuck out of my house." It is only a moment after the door closes behind the trick that Brian thrusts his hand into his pocket for his cell phone and dials Michael's number. But it goes straight to voicemail, because in the Honeycutt/Novotny residence, Michael is already in bed, asleep. Brian groans in frustration and follows the trick out the door, into the lift, and all the way downstairs to the Jeep. He regrets this already. --- At the hospital, Brian recieves a verbal thrashing from Melanie for missing the whole thing to go out clubbing. "I wasn't tricking," Brian protests, which is the truth, but his plea falls on deaf ears. Once Melanie has finally stopped shouting, Brian is finally able to direct his attention to the baby. Considerably subdued, he approaches Lindsay nervously, making his way through a crowd of lesbians who happen to be androphobes. "What's his name?" Brian asks, taking the child in his hands and staring at him, unable to believe the perfection all wrapped up in this infant. Melanie smiles and puts a hand on Lindsay's shoulder. "Abraham," she says sweetly. Brian shudders violenty. He remembers something from his mother's Biblical nonsense: "Wasn't he the one who took his kid up to be sacrificed?" Lindsay looks alarmed. "Mel, you didn't – " Melanie shakes her head quickly. "Well, he did do that, but only because he was asked to by God." "And," Brian cuts in, visibly delighted by Melanie's frustration, "I'm sure my mother was told by God to harrass all those who are listed as inequal in the Bible. In fact, not just her, but all those people holding signs on Liberty Avenue. You know the ones." Melanie shifts uncomfortably. Lindsay looks pained. "Mel, isn't there some other name we could think of that would be – " "You picked the father," Melanie reminds her through gritted teeth, taking this opportunity to take the child back from Brian. "I get to pick the name, at the very least." Brian rolls his eyes. "So you don't do shit – you work all through the pregnancy instead of staying home and taking care of Linds, you don't carry the child, and all of a sudden you think you should get to decide something about this baby?" "We're raising it together," snarls Melanie. "Get out." Feeling considerably more pleased with himself, Brian drops a kiss on Lindsay's forehead and makes his exit, a spring in his step. Then, at the door, he realizes something, and doubles back. He walks over to the kid, gathers him in his arms, and whispers, "Sleep tight, Sonny Boy. First night on Earth." Then he kisses the child on his forehead and leaves. There is a nurse in the hallway whom Brian suspects he has seen at Babylon before. Based on that observation alone, he makes a few choice gestures, and five minutes later, the nurse's hospital gown is gathered up in his hands, his white pants yanked down around his ankles, and he is leaning against a bathroom stall while Brian does some highly effective pain management. Then he goes home, drug-free, and sleeps. --- In the morning, Justin lies on his side, snuggling up close to Emmett. The night was exhausting – after confessing that he had never had sex before, Justin had expected to be thrown out. However, Emmett reacted pleasantly, offering Justin the chance to top, which, mostly out of fear of bottoming, Justin hastened to do. According to Emmett, it was "spectacular," a compliment that turned out to be incentive enough for Justin to do it again. After round four or five, Emmett finally fell asleep, with Justin curled around his side. The blond boy, for his part, seems incapable of sleeping on his own side of the bed, which is fine. It's cute, and Emmett doesn't mind cuddling, especially not with a boy this adorable. But when his alarm goes off, it's all business, and Justin is quickly ushered out of bed. "Can I take a shower?" he pleads, terrified of being kicked out and having to find his way to school on his own. Emmett smiles. "Sure, honey," he says, and accompanies Justin into the bathroom. They shower together, and it's nice, but there's no sex. According to Emmett, they "got enough of that last night, thank you very much." When they're done, they step out into the living room to hear Michael on the phone talking to Brian, asking to get a ride to work. Emmett hurriedly drops the towel (accidentally) and while Justin hurriedly grabs it and gives it back to him, Emmett gestures to himself and his trick, mouthing, "Us too!" Michael passes on the message, and it is assumed that Brian agrees, because five minutes later, they hear a loud honk beyond anything they have ever heard before. It is clearly a very aggravated Brian behind the wheel of his Jeep, and so Justin, Emmett, and Michael quickly file out of the house so that Brian doesn't leave without them. Emmett is dropped off first, and then a very awkward Justin is huddled alone in the back seat. Brian goes to drop Michael off at work next, but then he notices Justin sitting in the back. "Hey – when did you get here?" he demands. Justin looks surprised. Did Brian really not notice him? "Emmett said you could give me a ride," he whispers, barely audible. He's nervous. He's never this nervous. Brian groans. "Fine," he says, dragging out the word. "Where do you work?" Oh, this is bad. "Um… I don't," Justin says, not thinking fast enough to make up some sort of establishment on the same street as his school. "I, uh, I go to school. St. James' Academy." Michael and Brian find this incredibly amusing. "Emmett fucked a teenager," Michael sing-songs. "Oh, I'm gonna call him and tell him." Slightly more sympathetic, Brian mutters, "What is it with kids today?" Justin feels this is a bit unfair. "We just want to get laid like everybody else," he protests. "Well," Brian concedes, "I was fourteen my first time." Wow. "That's really young," Justin replies, awestruck. But before Brian can continue, Michael clamps a hand over his mouth. "Don't tell him about that," he advises, holding his cell phone to his ear. "It might give him ideas." Brian laughs. "Good point." At a red light, he turns and whispers something in Justin's ear, but it's rushed and garbled and Justin is way too hard to pay attention. Wait. Why is he hard? He just had sex with Emmett all night. He's not allowed to be attracted to his friend. God. There are so many rules. And he can't even help it. When Brian pulls up in front of St. James', Justin wastes no time getting out of the car. However, as it pulls away, Justin can't help but peer after the car and memorize the license plate number. Call him a stalker or call him a teenager in love. The question is, with who? Brian or Emmett? His hand goes to his forehead faster than he would have thought possible. This gay stuff is just too complicated. Why couldn't he just have a crush on a girl and be done with it? Or even just one guy? Virgin to vixen in a matter of twelve hours, Justin sinks down on the steps in front of St. James' and wonders what the hell is going on with him. --- At lunch, Justin hesitates. He is half-convinced that he should tell Daphne that he's gay, while the other half is screaming at him that he's not ready. And what if he changes his mind? "So," says Daphne, to break the silence while Justin deliberates. "What did you do last night?" Right at the last minute, Justin chickens out. "Saw a movie," he says slowly. "Stayed… at a friend's." Daphne raises her eyebrows. "You don't have any other friends," she points out. "Sure I do," Justin objects, but she's right, and he quickly makes something up. "His name's Emmett. We, uh, met at camp." She shrugs. "Okay." And Justin yet again manages to overcome the odds and stay inside the closet. --- Time passes. Justin lives on, barely surviving his mundane high school life. Daphne tags along after him, and with time, her crush on him intensifies. Much as Justin hates the idea of using her or, even worse, leading her on, he does not deny rumors that the two of them are dating. After all, it helps him. Brian drags through his mundane life, stirring up a little bit of excitement when he is accused of sexual harrassment. He calls upon Melanie for her help, but she loathes him, it seems, with every fiber of her being. She doesn't even like anyone who associates with him – save for Lindsay, of course. So Melanie turns him down, and Brian lives out his prison sentence of six months. It's light – almost inexcusably so – but the judge was gay. He gets fired after six months of not being able to work and, of course, a tarnished reputation. Considering that he was in all the newspapers for having sexually harrassed a co-worker, he finds it difficult to get a job. The best he can get is a job as a photographer for a porn magazine. (The pay is excellent, and he's been offered more than one time a job as one of the models. That's all he needs, to get in the papers again for something sex-related. People are going to start to think he's a freak.) In the meantime, Justin remains in the closet until prom, when some kid who harrassed him all year decides that it would be appropriate to take a baseball bat to Justin's head. Daphne freaks out, of course, and gets a teacher. Just her luck, though – she picked a teacher who notoriously loathes Justin. As valuable time slips away, Justin bleeds on the concrete. At last, a passing college student spots him, takes pity on him and drives him to the hospital. The college student's name is Ethan Gold, and he is there when Justin wakes up. They hit it off, and when Justin leaves the hospital with a spazzing hand, memory loss (he can't remember the past year) and constant headaches, he moves into Ethan's apartment. They are boyfriends, or lovers, or whatever you want to call them, and people say they're adorable together. But they don't have any money. Justin comes very close to going to Dartmouth, but Ethan stops him and reads him the riot act of artistic ethics. Finally, Justin agrees not to go, and decides to get a job to help him pay for an education at PIFA. He does what he can with his art, but it isn't making enough money. Finally, he gets a job dancing at Babylon. But one fateful party changes that, and he quits. Desperate, he applies to model for a porn magazine. He is accepted – has his ass ever let him down? One day, Brian is taking pictures when a familiar, if older-looking blond boy enters. "Hi," he says nervously, but then a moment passes, and he double-takes. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he asks, and Brian, still trying to remember where he knows him from, replies in the negative. Justin ends up becoming very, very wealthy off of his considerable time spent modeling for the porn magazine. He and Ethan move to New York, where then can afford a fairly impressive Greenwich Village apartment. In the meantime, Brian tries to make money with photography, but eventually he fucks one of the people he had photographed, and is promptly fired. Desperate, he decides that his reputation is far too overbearing in Pittsburgh, and so with five days' notice, he packs up and moves to New York. If you ask them, neither Brian or Justin will ever remember each other. But in a club in New York one night, after Justin had a fight with Ethan and simply needs to escape all of that, Brian leads Justin into the blackened shadows of the swirling blue dance floor. For one brief moment, they know each other, before Brian disappears into the writing mass of dancing bodies. When Justin goes home, it is to his husband. Always, Brian keeps dancing.