Justin's POV

"I'm just saying that you need to sleep too, at some point," Daphne muttered, stomping down the stairs behind me.

"Not when I have this huge event in only a few days and one of my best pieces was…" I trailed off, biting my cheek not to say something I'd regret.

"It was you who brought him in. The least you could have done is lock your art room or simply close the door. I bet he can't reach the door handle," she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

I groaned, stopping on the first step of the landing. "Stop, okay? I'm not mad at a…dog. Fuck, Daphne! It's my fault for being paranoid and not sending my paintings beforehand, only a couple days before the show."

"So you're not blaming the poor puppy?"

"No." I sighed, resuming my descending. "Anyway, I'm on my way to meet with Liam and beg him to push the opening to next weekend. He'll probably cut my balls."

"Or…you go without that piece," she reasoned.

"That's the center piece. Damn. Why did Cupcake have to claw at the canvas then pee on it? Why did I put it on the floor?" I groaned, rubbing my forehead. I was so tired. Focusing on painting something close to a masterpiece, while running on coffee and two hours of sleep, didn't work. Not at all.

"Stop worrying. Just go and tell Liam the truth, and that next time you'll bring only great paintings like the one ruined."

"There won't be a next time! Daph, he saw that one. That's what made him give me his card, an invitation to dinner and an opening at the gallery. And I fucked up."

We stepped outside our building into the chilling winter air. I tugged the zipper of my jacket all the way up then fastened the scarf around my neck.

"You're coming back later?" she asked as we reached the corner of the street.

"I'm not going to sleep at the gallery," I joked. "Why?" I added suspiciously. She only checked if I returned before nightfall when she wasn't going to make it.

"We don't want the puppy alone for too long, right?"

"Definitely not." I shuddered. I really didn't need another accident. "You're not coming back tonight?"

"If the date goes well, then definitely not." She beamed at me, making me laugh.

I remembered how I ended up with her here in the big New York City. The day I left, I went to say goodbye, and she could tell I was upset, so when I said without thinking "Come with me" she had rushed upstairs and returned half an hour later with her clothes packed. I had promised her parents to take care of her, and we were off. It was still like a dream in my head, how her parents had accepted for her to leave with me to New York. But then again they knew me and trusted me.

When we had arrived, I intended to check in a hotel for a few days until we sorted the living arrangements, but the contact person said I already had a place rented. That was how we ended up in the studio we lived in now.

"Colton?" I checked, though I already knew the answer from her huge smile. It still didn't cease to surprise me how she had run into an old high school classmate a while ago and they hit it off.

I even had the misfortune of walking in on them making out on the couch. He seemed to have grown up from the jock he used to be in high school.

"So see you tomorrow." She winked at me.

"Yeah, right. Have fun." I kissed her cheek and with a wave over my shoulder, I walked toward the gallery.

Luckily it wasn't that far away from where we lived. After five years in this city and I still got lost.

My meeting with Liam went better than expected. He was actually going to call and ask me if it was alright to push the opening by a few days. I left his office feeling a lot better. I had another whole week to redo my ruined painting.

As I walked down the street, I thought of what I could do tonight. On such nights, when Daphne spent the night with her boyfriend, I missed Brian more than I ever thought possible. No matter how much I tried to get over our relationship, it didn't work.

Every time I went out and hooked up with someone, I tried not to get attached. Without actually meaning to, I was becoming a younger, blonder version of Brian with the way I treated people I met in clubs, the way I protected my heart. I feared allowing anyone close because of our failed relationship and how it hurt when I left. It had always hurt. Even when we were together, he treated me like I didn't mean anything to him, and when he got the courage to show me, it was for all the wrong reasons. I had never meant to change him; I only wanted him to love me.

But after pushing away every guy I fucked, I always wondered if leaving Brian was the right decision. We could have been happy. He was opening up to me, more than ever. Heck, he said the magic words, he bought us a house and the most important part—he proposed. That was huge, coming from the guy who never believed in commitment.

Cutting off all communication and every road that led to Brian hadn't helped one bit. My mother never mentioned him in our phone calls, and the odd call from Debbie, Emmett or even Michael on my birthday and at Christmas was short and awkward as hell. I always itched to ask them about Brian but never got the courage, and they didn't bring him in discussion. It would be nice to know if he was happy at least. I really hoped he was, not sulking around, stuck in the past—like me. I wished I could get over him, but that wasn't possible, not when I loved him so much.

Distracted by the turn of events at the gallery and lost in my thoughts, I wasn't exactly paying attention to where I was walking so when I crashed into someone, I was surprised it happened. His hand reached out to steady me as I nearly fell on my ass.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," I apologized quickly, afraid to even peek at the person. He looked dressed smart, and I was too embarrassed to meet his eyes. But I couldn't help notice a strain on his expensive beige coat. Fuck I spilled his coffee.

When he didn't say anything, probably angry at me having ruined his expensive coat, I chanced a look at his face.

What a contrast. Business men usually had clean, shaved faces…not beards. His brown eyes looked tired and slightly familiar. I couldn't place where I'd seen that glint before.

He kept opening and closing his mouth, as I fished for a paper tissue in my pocket.

"Here. I'm sorry," I repeated, dabbing at his brown coat.

His hand wrapped around my wrist and I froze. My eyes met his again and my mouth dried. I knew that touch oh-so-well.

"It's just a coat, Sunshine." Brian gave me a reassuring smile.

Fuck.

My hands started shaking. Despite my promise to him, we never talked or met after I fled from Pittsburgh. I'd tried to imagine this very moment thousands of times, but it was never like this.

"Brian," I croaked out. What's wrong with me? The second he appears, I lose control over my body.

"Justin," he said in his soft, warm voice. "How have you been?"

I swallowed thickly, walking a few feet away, dragging him by the sleeve so we wouldn't get bumped by the people milling the busy street.

"I'm good. Busy. Painting." I shrugged. "You?"

He smiled widely. "Much better now."

I could feel a blush spreading down my neck. "So…you're here?" I asked curiously.

"I'm on a business trip. I have three meetings next week, but decided to come early and enjoy the city. I even hoped to bump into you."

"Not quite so literally, I hope." I laughed, relaxing. It was always easy to be around him.

Brian looked at the stain on his coat. "Definitely not." He returned his eyes to mine. "You're free?"

"Yes," I answered quickly, not thinking twice. I'd take whatever time I got with him, even if it would hurt once he returned to Pittsburgh. I'd missed him too much, thought of him constantly to say no to this chance.

"Great. Know any good place?"

"A few. One is a few blocks away. Where are you staying?" I wondered.

He scrunched his nose. "Cynthia booked me a room at Pennsylvania. She said it's near Time Square, and I have Metro stations nearby."

"Not a good hotel?" I asked, not knowing anything about accommodation. I was lucky to have the apartment served to me.

"Not exactly. I think she chose it because it was cheaper. Anyway, I can always take a cab back. I'm here for a few hours and I think I'm already lost," he said amused.

"You definitely are. I have no idea how much you walked, but you're in Brooklyn…from Times Square. You crossed the bridge." I laughed at his look.

"I did, but only because I asked for directions to Starbucks and I think the old man pointed me in the wrong direction."

"I bet you passed many Starbucks places on your way here."

"Or I wasn't paying attention. Anyway, I'm glad I got lost."

I bit my lip, and unable to hold back anymore I threw my arms around his neck. "I missed you," I whispered in his ear.

He squeezed me tightly, making tears spring into my eyes. Being there in his arms once again almost made the last few years disappear. Brian rubbed my back, placing his cheek on top of my head. It felt surreal to be near him after all this time.

Our reunion was interrupted by the loud ringtone of my phone. I pulled back, apologizing and answering.

"What, Nick?" I muttered.

"You're not home?"

"What gave it away?" I asked sarcastically.

"Your puppy is barking like crazy. The old lady from second floor came to me to ask what was going on."

"Oh, fuck! I forgot about him. Again." I slapped my forehead. "I'll be home soon. Thanks."

"Anytime. Bye."

We hung up and I gave Brian a nervous smile. "Uh, I'm really sorry but I can't show you around now. Cupcake needs me, he's all alone."

"Cupcake?" he echoed me, looking mildly surprised and disgusted at the same time.

"Yeah, I had the genius idea to bring in a stray puppy last month."

He relaxed; I could only guess he thought Cupcake was the nickname of my boyfriend.

"But if you don't mind, you can come with me. I have beer." I wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet.

"Who's Nick?"

I couldn't help but chuckle. "My neighbor. If you're worried about a boyfriend, don't. I'm all for no strings attached. I learned from the master." I winked, reaching for his hand. All strings attached when it comes to you, though, I added in my head. "Come on. We should stop by the pet store too."

Brian glanced at our clasped hands, before squeezing it. "Lead the way, Justin."

After a while, he started chuckling and I gave him a confused look. "So you got a puppy?"

I pursed my lips. "So you grew a beard?"

He grinned widely, wrapping an arm around me. "It just happened."

"You ran out of shaving cream?"

"Ran out of time. I'm trying to expand my areas of business. I recently got into cosmetics, museum exhibitions and Linz recommended me to the new owner of the gallery in Pittsburgh. Juggling between jobs, trying to meet my friends at least twice a week and catch some sleep…there's little time for anything else—even shaving."

"Whoa!" I gaped at him. He was working too much, just as I remembered, but he always made time for fun. "No Babylon?"

"It's not as much fun when I own the place. Add that to the pile of my troubles."

"It must be difficult," I noted.

"I'm coping. I leave early morning and return late at night, I wouldn't make that long drive more than twice a day."

"What long drive?" He lived fairly close to his work place, if I remembered correctly.

"Oh, you don't know? Your mom didn't tell you? I moved into the new house a month after you left."

"I had no idea. I thought you sold it."

"I had already bought it, besides Jenny had found me someone that wanted my loft. It was time to move away—to act like an adult."

If I'd known… He looked so sad speaking of the events that had occurred after I left.

"Yeah, but you're alone there…in that big house," I protested, feeling responsible for his solitary lifestyle.

"Who said I'm alone?" Brian teased, bringing me closer to his side.

"I assumed…" Wrong. He probably brought his nightly tricks home, though considering his earlier confession it resulted there was no time for that.

"You got a puppy. I got a cat. She keeps the sofa warm so I can crash there after a long day at work."

I couldn't help but laugh. The Brian I knew would have brought a man to keep him warm at night. This new adult version of him was amusing, but also heartbreaking from the lack of social life.

"I thought you were anti-pets."

"People change." He shrugged.

"We're here," I said, self-conscious at the state the old building was in. "I'm on the sixth floor. We're taking the stairs." I led the way inside.

"I know you hate me, but not that much."

"The elevator never works. And I don't hate you. I can't. You know that, Brian."

We climbed in silence, saving out breaths. When we reached my floor, I saw Nick in front of my door, looking worried.

"You made it! He's been barking like crazy."

"I heard him on the way up. Dunno what's up with him. I'll take him out for a walk. Thanks for talking to the neighbors." I pulled my keys out.

"Don't worry." He waved his hand around, finally noticing I had company. "I see you're alone tonight."

Yes. At last, no Daphne. Grinning, I answered him, "Yep. I bumped into an old friend. I'm taking advantage of the peace and quiet."

"I'll tell Daphne!" Nick joked.

"You wouldn't!" She'd be so upset and take it personally.

"Later!" He went into his apartment, on the other end of the hallway.

"You're living with Daphne?" Brian sounded shocked.

"Yeah. We split the rent." I unlocked the door and was immediately assaulted by Cupcake. He jumped at my feet, yapping loudly. "Make yourself at home. I'll take him out. Beer's in the fridge."

Once Brian was inside the apartment, I grabbed the leash, strapped it on the puppy's collar and we were off.

Fifteen minutes later we were back and Cupcake was much calmer. I guessed he needed to run around for a while and pee at every tree he found on the way.

I found Brian in my art room, staring at the work-in-progress. His fingers were wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Beck's.

"This is truly beautiful, Justin."

"You should see the original." I pointed to the corner of the room. "I don't usually like my work, but this one…" I walked to the painting and stared at the ruined canvas.

"Is that a beer strain?"

"Try pee strain," I grumbled.

He smiled, nudging my ribs. "I thought you outgrew that phase."

"Ha fucking ha. The pup peed on it after clawing at the cloth, but it's all in the past."

We moved to the living room and the place I usually slept. Daph had the other room. We sat on the couch, exchanging stories. He updated me on the gang's life, on Mom and Molly who apparently he met every Saturday—I'd have to talk with Mom about that. How could she keep such a secret? She never mentioned seeing Brian.

He also told me that Linz and Mel had decided to spend the upcoming Valentine's Day in Paris, so they were shipping the kids to their respective dads. The thought of spending a whole week alone with Gus seemed to terrify him.

"I'll come help," I offered. It shouldn't be that difficult. If my math was good, Gus was about nine years old.

"You'd do that for me?"

"For Gus. I don't want you arrested for child neglect. Not even Mel could save you."

"Why, Justin, your faith in me is astounding. I'd never harm Sonny Boy."

"Not intentionally, no. Anyway, I have to come back. I need to talk to…what's his name…the new manager of the gallery back home. They're interested in a show."

"Thank you." He leaned closer, and I turned my head so his lips landed on mine instead of my cheek. I had no idea why I did it.

I was instantly transported back in the past. We put our beers away before I straddled his hips, took his face between my hands and kissed him furiously. I poured every feeling I had accumulated over the past five years—anger, joy, sadness, love, despair, shame at my foolishness.

He kissed me back, just as passionately, making sounds deep in his throat. They went straight to my groin.

"Justin," he murmured against my lips, smoothing my hair out of my eyes, "Oh, Justin. How I've missed you, Sunshine."

I couldn't help but smile at the old nickname. No one had called me that ever since I left Pittsburgh. "Me too, Brian. I'm so sorry for not keeping my promise."

"I'm willing to forget the last five agonizing years if you are. We can start all over again. Please say yes."

Baring his heart to me was so unlike him. He truly meant what he said. "You still want me?"

Brian looked intensely into my eyes. "I love you. Always have."

He still loved me, and God help me I'd never stopped loving him.

An embarrassing choking sound left my mouth, making me bury my face into his neck as tears trickled down my cheeks. He smelled of home, which made me cry harder.

"I love you too, Brian," I managed to say into his neck.

He hugged me tightly, rocking me through my sobs as if I was a small child.

"Where do you sleep? I want to put you to bed and make you some tea."

That was so sweet of him, but I couldn't form words.

"You need to calm down," Brian said soothingly, kissing my head, his hand rubbing up and down my back.

I took a deep, cleansing breath of his scent before pulling away enough to look at him. "I sleep here, on the couch. It's a pull-out."

He helped me unfold it, then made me stay put while he went to make tea. No one had made tea for me, besides Mom when I was sick, but that was ages ago.

After he returned to my side, we both snuggled under the blanket and watched TV, drinking tea. I realized in that moment how much Brian had changed—and it was all because of me. For me. He was a better person because he was determined to show me how much he loved me. Even back then, I should have known why he was acting out of character—it was all for me.

"I'm such an idiot," I muttered under my breath.

"Don't beat yourself up. We weren't ready for that step."

"Do you still have them?" I asked after a while.

"Have what?"

"The rings?"

Brian whipped his head around to gape at me. He nodded as he undid the top three buttons of his shirt. I saw a simple necklace lying against his chest, but when he pulled it out of his shirt, my heart stopped. Both rings were dangling off the chain.

"I always wear it." He gave me a small smile.

"Can I have mine?" I whispered, my mouth going dry.

"No." He smirked. "I want to do it the right way."

"No church will marry us."

"I meant this." He slid off the couch, kneeling at my feet. "Marry me, Justin."

"Yes," I gasped out, tackling him down and kissing him all over the face.

It was so surreal what was happening, but I wasn't going to ruin my chances again. Career be damned. Brian was all I needed to make me whole and happy.

He slipped one of the rings on my finger, making goose bumps appear on my skin, and then I put the other ring on his finger. We grinned liked two idiots, just staring at each other. Until the cold floor made us move to my bed.

Under the covers, we got reacquainted with the other's body. His was similar to what I remembered, maybe not as toned as he used to be from the lack of time to exercise, but mine had changed. My biceps were bulging, my chest was well-defined and I was steadily working my way to a four-pack.

Brian noticed all the changes and took extra time exploring my chest and abdomen before pulling my pants and underwear off. I moaned in relief when his lips wrapped around my erection. It's been weeks since my last escapade in the backroom of a club.

He teased me for endless minutes, while I ran my hands over his back and arms.

Suddenly, he sat on his knees, unbuckling his belt then unzipping his pants and taking them off.

"Do you have anything?"

"Shit!" I cursed my lack of judgment. On my way to the bathroom to grab lube and condoms, I teased him. "What, Brian Kinney not prepared?"

"It happens a lot these days."

"Ah, poor baby," I cooed at him, tossing the bottle of lube at him. "Work your magic."

Smirking, he flipped me on my chest before giving me a strong sense of dejà-vu as he kissed down my spine. "Do you like rimming?"

So it wasn't my imagination. "Love it—now that I know what it means," I answered cheekily.

"Hmmm. Something to explore later." He eased a lubed finger in my ass, making me hiss, closing my eyes.

"Easy…" I had no idea how to tell him I'd never had anyone there…besides him.

When he stopped, I glanced over my shoulder to meet his stunned face.

"No one else?"

"No." I shook my head, biting my lower lip.

"Oh, Justin!" Brian covered my body with his, devouring my mouth.

My confession turned him even sweeter than before. I found myself on my back as he slowly made love to me, never breaking eye-contact.

My lids kept shutting in pleasure but I forced them open; to stare at the most beautiful hazel eyes on the earth—so soulful, honest and loving.

I was home again, and I wasn't leaving this time.

Brian's POV

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed and to a warm body draped over mine.

As I blinked my eyes open, trying to remember what I'd done the previous night, I was met with a well-known mop of golden locks right in front of my nose.

Justin. It wasn't a dream.

Closing my eyes again, and hugging him tightly, I let myself think back on how he bumped into me the day before and didn't even recognize me at first. I wouldn't have recognized myself either.

I felt rather than saw Justin's smile. He didn't wake, only got more comfortable, placing his hand on my chest. The morning light caught the glint of the ring. Had I subconsciously worn the rings around my neck every day in hopes I'd bump into Justin at some point and he'd take his back?

I couldn't believe he had accepted my proposal last night. Spontaneous and honest seemed to be what he wanted.

We had a lot to talk about if he hadn't changed his mind overnight. I even let myself fantasize about waking up in his arms every morning, having him by my side all the time. It would be a dream come true.

I couldn't stay in bed any longer, so after carefully disentangling from him, I went in search of the bathroom then headed to the kitchen where I started preparing coffee. They had no coffee maker, so I guessed the kettle was the only option. I'd never done it this way so it took me a while to figure out how to work it.

I was in the middle of pouring the freshly brewed coffee in a mug when the door of the apartment opened. It must be Daphne, I thought worried. She had no idea I was there.

The kitchen was right across the front door so she had a clear view at me. We stared at each other for a long minute before she gasped, both hands covering her mouth. Then, faster than I thought possible, she was across the hallway and wrapped around me.

"You're here! Was this an impromptu visit?" she whispered, glancing toward the living room where Justin was still asleep.

"Hello, Daphne," I greeted her warmly. She'd always taken care of my boy. "We bumped into each other yesterday. I'm here on business."

"Oh, so this…" She gestured between her friend and me, at a loss.

"We're going to give our relationship another shot." As I reached for my mug, she grabbed my hand, squealing loudly.

Then she frowned. "It's that one, right? Or did you marry someone else?"

I laughed, having forgotten how she used to be. As curious as Justin. "It's the same ring."

"And I have the other one. Go alert CNN. I'm trying to sleep here!" Justin's muffled voice came from his make-shift bed.

Daphne squealed louder as she rushed to him, jumping on top of him. "You got married without inviting me!"

I couldn't help but laugh. I couldn't make out what he answered but it made her pout and slap him playfully. He swatted her back, keeping the blanket wrapped around him. She asked something else I didn't hear but it made Justin groan loudly.

"Yes, I'm fucking naked under here and I'd like to sleep for another hour. So you two keep quiet."

Daphne stomped to the kitchen and slumped in a chair. I closed the door, trying hard not to laugh.

"Are you actually here on business?" she inquired.

"Yes," I admitted, frowning at her question.

"Where do you stay? Here in Brooklyn?"

"No… What's with the questions?" I felt guilty for not telling Justin the truth yesterday, but if he knew Jennifer had given me his address he might have never invited me to his house, or accepted me back in his life.

"Last I heard, they gave people like you hotels in the downtown area. So what were you doing here? Searching for Justin?" She didn't sound mad, only curious and slightly amused.

"I was searching for Starbucks," I lied, sticking to my story.

"Yeah, right. So his mom didn't give you the address or anything like that?" She smirked at me. Her question made me choke on my gulp of coffee. "I know." She giggled. "I told her of how Justin missed you, how he'd never gotten over you. I always tell her that when I answer his phone—it happens very often since she usually calls when he's either in the shower or talking to important people at his galleries. It's like voodoo, I swear."

"She did," I admitted. "Jenny told me where Justin lives but…I wasn't sure if I had the courage to come here. I was only walking around when he bumped into me, lost in thought. I had no idea if he was single or seeing someone or maybe he had gotten over me." I shrugged, telling her all my fears.

"Pshh. He never got over you." She looked sad. "You know what will make him really happy?"

"What's that?" I'd do anything to make him smile that special smile of his that lit up the room.

"First, you need to tell him the truth about the reason why you were in Brooklyn. Starting a relationship based on a lie is never a good thing. Second, which you do first actually, is go to the corner of the street and tell Maya I sent you there and to give you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. Justin will love the gesture."

Flowers were a romantic gesture, something I usually avoided. But it didn't sound bad. I knew Justin would appreciate them.

"I guess I'll leave again so you two can spend the day together. Don't worry about it. I was back only to get a change of clothes, anyway," Daphne said, winking.

Before leaving with her, I told Justin I'd be right back. I hoped he heard me and that he didn't wake while I was gone, thinking the worst. I also took his key so I could get back in the apartment.

Daphne walked me to the flower shop and talked with the woman selling them, she mentioned the flowers were for Justin, which made Maya grin. Everyone loved Sunshine.

Daphne left, saying she'd call before coming back. I hoped Maya wasn't paying attention to our conversation. I'd prefer a stranger not knowing about my personal life.

She started working on the bouquet telling me about each flower she added. Iris meant admiration, faith and courage. A few wild flowers meant spontaneity and thoughtfulness. Lilac for youth and innocence, Orchid for love, beauty and strength, and a single ruby red rose in the middle adding that touch of romance. After thanking her on the lesson of flower symbolization, I paid and made my way back to Justin's place.

Justin was still asleep when I let myself in. Cupcake barreled into the hallway barking and nudging me with his muzzle. I wished I had been inspired to take him out when I went after the flowers. So after another trip down the stairs, only imagining the way back up, we returned fairly quickly. At least, the puppy listened to me.

It was close to noon when we walked back into the apartment. I had stopped at the pizza house in the corner and bought two, not sure if there was food in the fridge. What better breakfast at noon than pizza?

Sitting next to Justin, I traced his jaw with my finger, making him grumble and turn away from me. Laughing, I plucked the Iris from the bouquet and stroked it down his spine. I repeated the gesture until he burst in a fit of giggles.

"Stop, it's tickling," he complained, squirming away.

Chuckling, I kept trailing the flower's petals over his lower back. Justin turned around, seeing the flower. He met my eyes with a large smile on his face.

"You bought me a flower?" he asked softly, never taking his eyes off mine.

"More flowers." I pointed to the bouquet on the table in the kitchen.

"Oh, Brian. I really appreciate it, but…did Daphne talk you into this?"

"Maybe? But it's something I wanted to do, as a forgive me."

He frowned. "It's me who left and hurt both of us all those years ago."

"Actually, I want to apologize for yesterday," I told him. As his eyes widened, I went on quickly before he could think I had second thoughts. "I didn't get lost searching for Starbucks. I knew where you lived. Jennifer told me."

"Figures. The way she's suddenly Team Brian, she could be your mom. She never told me anything about you two talking, let alone meeting regularly."

"Don't be upset. I'm sure she didn't want to cause you any more pain, besides you never asked about me…not her, or anyone else. I always asked everyone who talked to you."

"Don't make me feel like an asshole," he grumbled, taking the Iris from my hand he twirled it between his thumb and forefinger.

"I didn't mean that. So am I forgiven?" I begged, cupping his cheek.

"Your story wasn't very believable as it was. I should have known. Was Daph involved too? Is the world conspiring against me?"

"The world wants us back together and happy."

"The world achieved their goal." He beamed at me, pushing me back on the bed and kissing me deeply.

I spent the whole weekend with Justin, talking and kissing and making love. We promised to see each other again during the week, whenever I had some spare time. He also had to finish his painting, which he'd tried to work on a few hours in the past couple days, but I always distracted him. I couldn't even feel bad at taking him against the table and almost spilling all his precious stuff all over the floor.

We said goodbye on Sunday night in front of his building while waiting for my cab. I arranged with Cynthia to extend my stay in New York for the next weekend too, so I could attend Justin's show. I also had one week to convince him to pack up and fly back with me. I was determined not to leave without him.

Convincing him seemed to be the easy part on Tuesday over lunch. Abandoning Daphne worried him. But she put his worries at ease, telling him a couple days later she could move in with her boyfriend. That settled it.

On Friday evening I dropped by his apartment to see if he needed help packing. He answered the door shirtless and with his workpants on—they were splattered in all colors. I could hear Daphne laughing from somewhere in the house.

"Hi, Justin." I kissed a clean spot on his cheek. "Is this your new look for tomorrow's opening?"

"Don't." He shook a finger at me. "I'm going to kill that puppy."

"Oh, no. What's he done?"

He led the way to his art room. There was a large suitcase with his clothes in but the problem was the can of blue pain turned upside down, covering most of them.

"He ran into the table and the paint fell in my fucking suitcase. Lucky I have my suit spread on the couch," he said, glowering at his ruined clothes.

"You might rethink that one," Daphne said in a small voice. "Oh, hi." She waved to me.

"What has he down now?" Justin groaned exasperated. When she didn't answer, he stomped out of the room.

"You've got one crazy pup," I noted.

"You can say that." She giggled.

"No fucking way!" Justin yelled from the other room.

"Pee accident?" I whispered to Daphne.

She shook her head. "Paint covered paws."

Oh, shit. I rushed after Justin and found him sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. "We're going shopping." I pulled him up. "Do you still have some clean clothes?"

"Only these pants, and a t-shirt that is in the bathroom."

"It's okay. Don't worry. We'll go and buy a few clothes. But the first thing we do when we get home is spend money in training Cupcake."

He cracked a smile. "I can always leave him here with Daphne."

"No way!" she shouted from the other room.

"We're taking him to Pittsburgh. Hopefully, he won't try and kill my cat," I added thoughtfully.

"We can only hope it's the other way round."

At least I made him smile. "Let's go."

The shopping trip was brief but Justin got a new suit, shirt and tie, and a pair of jeans along with a few t-shirts. I offered to keep them at the hotel, and he accepted, even following me there. On the way to my hotel, he called Daphne and apologized for bailing and that he needed some time away from the pup.

On Saturday evening, at his opening, Justin kept me next to him all through the show, presenting me as his boyfriend. As much as that thought would have scared me some years ago, now it made me happy. I was so proud of my boy, all grown-up and living his dream. Maybe the time spent apart had helped him accomplish his dream of being a painter, and now we could have a relationship without me worrying about him not being happy or accomplished in his career. He was well-known and he could paint from anywhere.

When the event was over, Justin thanked Liam for the amazing opening he had organized. He'd sold five pieces, one of them being the trouble painting he had to redo.

I was so proud of him. I couldn't wait to take him back to my hotel room and show him just how proud of him I was, but my plan didn't go as it was in my head.

In the cab, before I could say my hotel's name, Justin rattled off an address to the cabbie then leaned back into my side, hugging me.

"Where are we going?" I wondered, running my hands through his hair.

"Celebrating. Have you heard of Therapy?" He smiled at me, his eyes shining.

"Uh, not exactly. Unless you mean I need therapy."

Justin laughed. "No, no. It's the spot, the best gay club around."

Did I even want to know what he'd done in there? Who he'd done?

We arrived fairly quickly due to the late hour and little traffic. I threw the cabbie some money before allowing Justin to drag me out of the car and into the club.

He knew his way around, which made me realize this was one of the clubs he frequented. The bouncer clapped his back asking how he was; the barman was all over him, hugging and kissing him, anticipating his drink with a wink.

"And for you?" the exuberant bartender asked, turning his eyes on me.

"Same."

He nodded and disappeared to bring our beers.

"Don't mind Pete. That's how he is with everyone," Justin told me seriously, leaning against the bar. "The only time I saw him sad—and I mean sobbing full snot—was when his pet parakeet died, last year."

"That is sad."

"Yeah. I come here often enough for him to know what I usually drink. And he even knows what I'll have depending on my mood, which is freaky."

"Well, he should have offered you champagne, or bubble wine, or whatever he has."

"We'll end the night with that, in your room," he whispered, stepping in front of me and kissing me slowly. "I thought we could use some fun. You wanted to see how a club here was…here we are."

"One last hooray before we're off to our married life?" I joked.

He beamed, hugging me tightly. "You have no idea how happy I am we ran into each other last week."

"And that we could work it out. I was so worried you'd say no to another shot at our relationship," I admitted, kissing up and down his neck. "If you want to dance, let's dance because if we stay here any longer, I might drag you to the backroom."

"No backroom here. Just back alley." He laughed.

"Your beers," Pete said loudly from behind me.

"Thanks!" Justin grinned at him, grabbing the bottles. "Let's dance."

Holding our beers, we danced for a while. The music these days wasn't what it used to be, but Gaga had good songs for clubbing.

Justin had his arms around my neck, mostly grinding into me with a permanent smile on his face. Being on a dance floor with him reminded me of Babylon and all the times I danced with him there. We always had a great time.

As Born This Way ended, and the first sounds of the next song thumped around the room, he froze in my arms. I didn't recognize the song, but it seemed to affect him.

I'd only once seen that terrified look on his face—it was when he was out in public after being released from the hospital.

Shine I'll stand by you
Don't try and push me away
'cause I'm just gonna stay
You can shine I won't deny you
And don't be afraid it'll all be ok

The song was vaguely familiar. That voice, too.

"What's wrong?" I asked, cupping his cheek.

He gasped, but it seemed not to work. "Air," he gasped out, squeezing his eyes shut.

I immediately led him out of the club, depositing our bottles on an empty table. "Tell me. Are you okay? What happened?"

He leaned against the wall, sliding to the ground, still breathing erratically.

"Justin," I begged him. His behavior was really scaring me. I crouched at his level and took his hands. "Sunshine?"

Taking a huge gulp of air, he met my eyes. "That song…" He jumped, tumbling forward in my arms when a honk blared loudly in the street. "Shit. I haven't heard it in a while."

"And that's why you reacted like this?"

He bit his lip, tears springing in his eyes. Fuck. This was serious. His arms wrapped around me as he sagged in my embrace.

"You weren't there…only after. I remember…I always liked Cyndi Lauper…and this song…it used to be my favorite."

"Not anymore apparently." I ran my fingers through his hair.

"No, not after…" He met my eyes and gulped thickly. "She was playing it when Babylon blew up. You came back as soon as you heard of the bombing. When you told me you loved for the first time."

I froze, not having expected that. "You remember that?"

"Which part?" Justin raised an eyebrow, stifling a smile.

"All of it? I thought people usually forgot unpleasant memories."

"Only when they're bashed in the head," he joked, taking another deep breath of clean air. "I don't think I could forget. Even though you weren't there…I was having fun. As I said, I always loved Shine. One minute I was there singing and joking with my friends and the next…" He shuddered. "I ruined the night."

"No, you didn't. I had no idea you felt like this. You never told me."

"You distracted me too much. I was in shock after the events of the night, and then you came and confessed your love to me. I was overwhelmed." Justin chuckled, kissing me.

I helped him stand. "Let's go back to my room. We can walk there."

On the way to my hotel, he admitted to having heard the song a few times over the years and every time he reacted the same. I had no idea if any of my other friends had the same problem. They never mentioned it.

Though, I understood him completely. I had the same reaction every time I heard the song they played at his prom—it made me think of the events that had followed the most romantic night we ever had.

I had an arm around Justin's shoulders, keeping him tucked in my side as we walked the quiet streets. It was really late at night, and besides the cars zooming by, or the random group of people or lone person, it was a pleasant walk.

By the time we reached the hotel, we were both exhausted.

"How about we celebrate my opening and me returning when we get back to Pittsburgh?" he suggested in the elevator.

"Best plan ever." I kissed his forehead.

"Good, because I'm tired."

"We can sleep. We need to wake early and go say goodbye to Daphne, grab the puppy and catch our plane in the afternoon."

"I hate to say it," Justin said amused. "But I'll be tired tomorrow too. Just imagine that's how it's going to be when we live together."

"Oh, don't worry. I don't expect to fuck every day. We've done this once—lived together. We can do it again."

He rubbed the back of his neck, following me out the elevator to my room. "I guess I finally understand your fears… Monotony. Losing interest."

"That won't happen to us, Justin. Trust me." I pushed him into the wall, kissing him deeply. "I love you. We'll make it work. We both want this badly."

"Love you, too." He pecked my lips, smiling bashfully.

Justin's POV

"Are you sure about this?" I asked, worried.

"Everyone will be happy to see you, Justin," Brian told me lightly, keeping his hand around mine.

The gesture gave me enough courage to keep walking down Liberty Avenue towards the diner and stopped me from running back to where he had parked the car. I was still surprised he had gone back to owning a big car—Mercedes G class. I guessed it was for the times he had Gus around, like this time. Though, he'd kept the Corvette; it was in the garage.

We were back in Pittsburgh for two days, but we'd been busy with unpacking my things and exploring every available surface in the house.

He stopped at the front door of Liberty Diner, turning to place his hands on my shoulders. "We don't have to go in if you don't want."

I couldn't help but snort out. "After the lengths you've gone to bring me here? Dragging me out the bed and down the stairs, then strapping me in the car before more or less carrying me down the street?" I took one of his hands from my shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm just worried of their reaction. They're probably upset with me."

"Nonsense. They missed you too."

Sighing, I looked at the door, feeling a churning in my stomach. Over the phone they'd all been nice to me, but what would they think of me being back? And the most important part—Brian and I back together, for good this time.

"If anyone has anything to say against this, which I highly doubt, I promise to put them in their fucking place." Brian grasped my chin in his free hand before planting a loud kiss on my mouth. "Come on, Justin."

I let him walk in first, while I stayed behind him mostly obscured by his winter jacket. Besides a few customers, most of the occupants of the diner were Brian's friends—I wasn't sure if they were still mine—and to my surprise there was Mom with Molly, and that guy she was still dating, Tuck.

"Did you plan this?" I hissed at Brian. It looked like something he'd do.

"No, I swear." He turned to give me his most honest look.

"Look, Gus! Daddy's here!" I heard Linz saying in a loud voice. "And he's brought help. How much are you paying the poor fellow?"

Leaning my forehead against Brian's shoulder blade, I inhaled his cologne for courage. Clearing my throat and stepping away from his back, I revealed myself with my hand still firmly glued to his.

Every mouth opened in shock as they stared at me in disbelief. I really wanted them to say something, do something; instead they just gaped at me.

"Surprise? I brought a souvenir from New York," Brian said jokingly.

"You didn't say you were visiting!" Mom was the first to react.

"You didn't tell me you almost adopted my boyfriend. Now, it's all awkward," I bit back, but tried to keep my voice light.

She had the decency to look guilty, at keeping secrets from me.

"Hey, Justin!" Molly came to me, hugging me tightly. She'd grown so much, she was a teenager now.

"Hi, honey." I hugged her back, one-armed, kissing her head. I still remembered how annoying she used to be when she was little, but now as Mom once told me, she probably needed me considering she couldn't talk to Mom about some stuff. I never believed it when Mom said in some years Molly would come to me, but maybe this was that time.

When we separated, I was dragged into a big hug from Debbie. "Sunshine…You're really back?" she asked, taking my face in her hands.

I nodded, grinning.

That seemed to be all she needed to know because she caught me in a choking hug, mumbling about what an idiot I was. I'd missed Debbie. I'd missed everyone.

Slowly, everyone took a turn at hugging and kissing me. I felt like the main attraction at a circus show.

After Michael hugged me, praising that I finally grew a brain, he went to Brian and whispered something I couldn't hear. Brian chuckled and met my eyes before turning to look at his friend, and shrugged.

I was curious of what that'd been about, but I was pulled into Emmett's arms. "Good to have you back, sweetie! I haven't seen Brian smile like that in ages," he whispered in my ear.

Did everyone have to say something about Brian never being happier? It made me feel like shit because I'd tried, and almost succeeded, at having a life without him, but it seemed he'd been unable to go on without me. Even though I'd missed Brian every day and thought of him constantly, I also achieved my goal—the reason I left in the first place, to have a successful career as an artist.

Mom was the last to hug me. I'd seen her only a handful of times over the past five years, and being back in her arms made me truly realize what an idiot I was. The moment I stepped away from Mom, it felt exactly like before.

Michael, Ben, Ted and Emmett were at a table laughing and talking; Linz and Mel were all over the kids; Mom was pushing Molly to eat, and Debbie was shouting toward the cook to make me fries because she knew how much I loved them.

All my fears of being rejected were silly. They still loved me.

Brian led me to an empty booth, behind the one where the Peterson-Marcus family was sitting. He draped his arm over my shoulders, turning to talk to Linz about last minute notes on how to take care of his son. She kept telling him all of the instructions were on the paper packed with his clothes, and that it wasn't difficult to take care of a young boy for a week.

"But you never left him alone with me more than a few hours," Brian protested, glancing at Gus who was slouched in the corner of their booth, playing on his PSP.

"Oh, stop worrying! You're an amazing father. I'm sure Justin will help," Mel commented.

I turned around, placing my hand on Brian's arm, and scowled at her. "It's not like I know a lot more than him about kids, but we'll manage," I said.

"See? Positive thinking. That's what you need." Linz beamed at us. "Besides, Gus is a big boy now. Right, honey?"

He ignored her, making me laugh. It reminded me of myself when I was his age. It shouldn't be so difficult to take care of him.

"So pretty!" Jenny Rebecca exclaimed. "Are you married like Daddy and Ben?" She pointed to my hand.

I quickly dropped it on my lap and Brian fisted his hand, sharing a panicked look with me. We definitely weren't ready for that kind of attention.

"Who's married?" Debbie appeared at our table with a big portion of French fries. My mouth watered at the smell. She held the plate out of my way. "Who's married?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

I became aware of all our friends and family staring at us.

"We're not married," Brian finally said.

"Yet," I added, winking at him.

"The rings are just—"

"—to show the commitment."

"And we were hoping to keep it a secret—"

"—since we're not exactly ready for that. We just got back together," I added.

"Fabulous. Are you going to finish each other's sentences all week?" Gus grumbled, not looking up from his game.

I burst out laughing, remembering how freaked Brian was the last time it happened. I'd been playing around that time, but now I didn't even realize I was doing it. And by the surprised look on his face, he didn't, either.

"I think they're cute," Jenny Rebecca said sweetly. "Just like Daddy and Ben."

Michael started laughing, making everyone join in.

We stayed at the diner for hours. I told our friends most of the important stuff I'd done, I shared with them happy and sad stories, told them how difficult it was to leave Daphne behind, but I knew she was in good hands. In turn, I learned more about their whereabouts—Ted joked about his boss working his ass hard at which we all laughed, and said boss promised to bring a whip at work. That comment moved the conversation to Emmett and one of the parties he had to organize not so long ago; eventually Michael got his turn and mentioned that more and more people were asking about Rage.

"We'll continue it," I promised. "After I see what I have to do for the gallery here, we can brainstorm for a new issue."

"You wrote Rage?" Gus asked, for the first time looking up from his game. There was awe in his voice.

"I drew it. Your uncle wrote it." I gestured to Michael.

"How cool!" Gus said excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me you were dating the author of Rage?" he questioned Brian, frowning.

As my boyfriend opened his mouth to answer, Linz beat him to it.

"How do you know about it?" she demanded.

"He just said so." Gus pointed to me, grinning.

"You know what I mean, Gus. You're too young for that comic book!"

"Oh, don't be a bitch," Brian groaned, lighting himself a cigarette.

"Excuse me?" Linz hissed. "Gus is way too young. I thought we discussed this. We'll allow him to decide who he likes—and by introducing him to Rage…"

"Are you joking?" Brian snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. "A comic book won't make him gay. Besides, Mikey and I were about his age when we first read Captain Astro."

"And look how well they turned out!" Debbie beamed at them, pinching her son's cheek.

I truly hoped my mother would never become like Debbie. As much as I loved her, she was probably suffocating Michael.

Brian and Linz kept arguing until Gus stood up, causing them to instantly shut up. "I found the issues in a box in the attic when I was looking for my old toy car…you know for Jenny?"

"You keep them?" I asked, truly shocked and touched.

"Of course. Despite the nature of them, they're very artistic," Mel said with a smile.

"Can I help you with ideas?"

I looked from Gus's imploring eyes to his parents, and then shrugged. "Sure, kid."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. It started a verbal diarrhea from Gus all through our remaining time at the diner, on the way home and it continued until we stepped inside the house and he saw Cupcake and Brian's cat—who didn't have a name. He insisted he didn't call her anything, and it was probably too late to name her, she responded to "here, kitty."

"Promise me one thing," Brian whispered in my ear.

"Anything."

"Don't tell him who inspired you to draw Rage or that the other characters are based on real people."

"Sure, but you must know he sees you as a hero already." I looked at him pointedly.

"Justin…he already knows too much about us without even realizing."

"Oh, right. I think I see where Mel and Linz come from; it may be too graphic for him."

He leaned closer, kissing up and down my neck. "Maybe you can send Rage and J.T. on their honeymoon."

"Or…I can start with the moment they come back from the honeymoon and Rage has to take his superhero duties right up…saving the world."

"Hmm…Good ideas, but I bet the long honeymoon will raise suspicions."

"It's their private time." I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

"Finishing each other's sentences and being all gross—just like my moms. Point me to the TV and you won't even know I'm here." Gus smiled at us innocently, enjoying interrupting our time.

"I have something better than TV." Brian winked and took his son's hand. "I have an entertainment room with a home cinema, many movies and a Wii gaming system."

"Really? Show me! What games?"

They went off toward the stairs. I remembered how perfect Brian looked holding baby Gus, but now as he kept a hand on his older son's shoulder and they talked about games, it made my heart swell. He had no idea how amazing he was.

"I'll heat the food Debbie sent with us!" I called after them highly doubting they heard me.

I had no idea how Brian could think he was a bad father—he was the best. I would bet all my money that he bought the Wii system and games for this week because he knew Gus was going to stay over.

oOo

"So how was your day?" Brian asked as our second day as babysitters came to an end. He'd left early in the morning, and I was woken up some hours later by Gus telling me he was hungry.

"Of course, it took me a while to convince him to wait for me in the kitchen. When he finally picked up on why I was clutching the blanket to my chin, he turned red and left in a hurry. After our rocky start of the day, I asked what he wanted to do; besides staying locked in your entertainment room. I kept prompting him, giving him ideas of fun stuff to do until he exclaimed he wanted to help me work on Rage's comeback."

"That's what you did?" Brian raised an eyebrow, looking incredulous. "For twelve hours?"

"We started around noon so that makes it about ten hours. We even called for take-out food…and it got here an hour later than promised."

He laughed as I pouted. "Yeah, the delivery guys get lost a lot. I have no idea why; it's not difficult to get here."

"Anyway, what about your day?" I started unbuttoning his shirt, slowly peeling it off him.

"I had a day from hell. I'm really starting to wonder if the only reason I had so many and loyal clients in the past is because I used to fuck them in the men's room."

I stopped undressing him, simply staring into his confused hazel eyes. "If that's the reason, they're idiots. You're so smart, and I've seen your advertisements. They're great, Brian."

"Well, Darren doesn't think so. I haven't worked with him in ages, but when he called a while ago, I scheduled him—like I do with all my clients. The first thing he said to me today was 'Now I'm on a waiting list' then he told me about his product." He sighed, shrugging out of his shirt, flinging it across the floor. "I sent him away to have lunch while we put something together. It's the best ad you'll see for headphones, but when he sees it he just smiles and gives me one of these looks…"

"Like, I want to fuck you look?" I guessed, feeling a surge of jealousy fill me.

"Something like that, yes. When the meeting was over, he even said loudly that he was headed to the toilet. I didn't realize what he meant or why he was announcing it to the whole world until I was alone in the office with Cynthia. She gave me a questioning look, asking if I was going to follow Darren or not."

"Did you?" I whispered fearfully. This was Brian after all.

"Yes, but only to tell him either to take the deal or never to come back to me. I also told him I was in a relationship and I loved my partner very much."

My heart swelled. He'd truly changed. "I love you, too."

"So." He smirked, burrowing his face in my neck and peppering kisses between my ear and shoulder. "Who did Rage save this time?"

To tell him or not to tell him?

"It was all Gus's idea," I started in a defensive tone. "And he has no idea you're Rage."

"The suspense is killing me," he said around my nipple.

"He suggested Rage save a baby whose homeless mom had just been murdered by the bad guy."

"I didn't take him for the parental type," he said distracted.

"Me neither, until yesterday when I saw the kid in him playing a Wii bowling game with his son."

Brian stopped kissing me. He looked at me seriously. "Does Rage keep the baby?"

"We stopped brainstorming for ideas when Rage told J.T. he brought home a gift."

"I bet J.T. would love the gift."

"Dunno. I'd like to make J.T. a little angry about Rage bringing home a baby without telling him first."

"You're turning yourself into the bad guy?" He chuckled, tracing a finger along my jaw.

"I'll have to talk to Michael about this."

"Do talk to him. If it was real, I can swear you wouldn't act like that. You'd probably ask how high I was when I decided to get the baby. Or, you'd faint from the shock."

I laughed, hugging him tightly. "Probably the latter."

Brian's POV

I was in the middle of trying to find the best way to promote the local gallery's shows, wanting to create the most impressing advertisement so when the time came I could help Justin, but I couldn't concentrate. Nothing seemed to work and a headache started to build up.

I refused to call Justin again to give me ideas of what galleries liked promotion-wise. I'd already bugged him enough over the past few days. Also, I was determined to figure out today what the advertisement would look like so I could enjoy the last two days I had with my son.

We'd even planned a play-date at Mikey's. After seeing Gus sulking, I confronted him last night and he admitted to missing his sister. Besides seeing her at the diner whenever Justin took him there, or at Michael's store, he wasn't used to being apart from her for so long.

Cynthia knocked on my door making me frown at her through the glass. She poked her head inside my office.

"The representative of the construction firm is here."

Fuck. I'd forgotten about them.

Looking between the pile of papers on my desk and her, I nodded. "Let them in. Who were they again?"

She shook her head amused. "Hobbs Constructions."

I nodded, turning my attention back to the files on my desk. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I decided to worry about that later. Before the official arrived, I scribbled more ideas of what I could do for the gallery.

The door opened again and I knew my time was up. Pushing back from the table to stand, I lifted my head and froze. My mouth clamped shut as I was about to greet the official.

Hobbs—it was all clear in my head. Of course I knew the motherfucker.

He was the asshole who bashed Justin in the head at his prom. And by the look on his face, he recognized me too.

Cynthia led him to my desk, asking if he'd like anything to drink, but her eyes were on me asking silently what had me rooted in place. I finally snapped out of it, waving her away.

"You know you can leave if this is against your standards," I said snidely, slumping back in my chair.

He only shook his head, looking at me with wide eyes.

"I shouldn't even accept you. Your company was scheduled months ago for an interview and you kept rescheduling until we didn't get any word from you."

"There are problems in my family," he explained, talking at last. "My father was sick and it was over quickly. I barely had time to put everything in place. I only came across his agenda the other week and found he had an appointment at Kinnetik."

If he expected any sympathy from me regarding his father, he was seeking it in the wrong place.

"Okay, so you decided to honor his appointment without even calling ahead and seeing if we were busy or not?" I muttered, glaring at him.

"Can we act professional and forget about the past?" he asked in a small voice.

That was the last straw. His words made me stand so violently I sent half the files on my desk flying to the floor. "You want me to forget you almost killed Justin?" I thundered.

Hobbs shrunk in his chair. "I'm here to discuss the company's need for an advertisement. I guess we need it badly now that we haven't worked in months…"

"You want me to help you after acting so nonchalantly about injuring my boyfriend? You must be insane." I couldn't believe my own behavior. I had my fair share of clients I didn't like, but my differences with Hobbs had another nature.

"I think whatever was left of the past was put to rest when that lunatic, Taylor, threatened me with a gun." He stood too, regaining some confidence. "If you refuse to help based on our past, I'll sue you."

His last statement almost made me laugh, but his first sentence was news to me. I wanted to call him out on his lies, but a sudden bone-chilling thought crossed my mind.

Had Justin really threatened him with a gun? He used to hang out with that dangerous guy, and at one point he even had a gun.

I had no idea what to say to him. "We're professionals here." I sat back in my chair, taking a deep breath. "Tell me what you want for the advertisement, but keep in mind that we're overly-booked at the moment."

He pulled out a stash of papers from his briefcase and searched for a place to spread them. I pointed to the coffee table in front of the couch. If I survived this experience without punching him in the face, I had stronger will-power than I previously thought.

After a while, I got the hang of what he wanted and started treating him like any other client. I was in the middle of telling him how I wanted to do the ad when the door of my office opened with a bang.

Seriously, it was made of glass. If one more person…

Fuck. Justin was gaping at me, his eyes moving from me to Hobbs and back.

I quickly crossed the room and hugged him. "Hello, Sunshine." I kissed his cheek, trying to relax him. He was too tense in my arms.

"What's he doing here?" he hissed, pushing me away.

"Hobbs is my client." I couldn't help but notice the asshole was afraid of Justin, which reminded me of his admission from earlier. "I'm still busy, and he wasn't scheduled," I added in a defensive voice, thinking he was here to ask why I hadn't come home yet.

We were living together for a week and I missed more dinners than acceptable.

"There goes my plan of going to drown in Ohio River."

"Uh, what?" I gave him an amused look.

"Your son is driving me crazy. It makes me question my sanity on ever wanting a baby. They all grow up and turn into little bastards."

"What's Gus done?" I asked, putting my hands on his shoulders. "Give me a minute," I said back to Hobbs before leading Justin out of the office.

"For some reason he only listens to you. We were best friends when he helped me work on Rage, but now when I went to that important meeting with Mr. Wanger about the show, he's possessed."

I looked around, not seeing Gus. "Where is he? And what has he done? I did offer to keep him here today while you went to your meeting," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but that meant you had to wake the kid at six in the morning. Not cool." Justin sighed. "Anyway, I was chatting with Mr. Wanger about the theme of the show, and lost track of Gus. I made the mistake of allowing him to wander off."

"Did he destroy something?" I asked fearfully.

"Someone from the back room brought him to us asking if he was mine and saying he'd made a stack of old antiques fall. I have no idea what he was doing, probably hiding or something. Anyway, I took him to Michael's to stay with his sister for a while."

"Good. Sorry about…" I waved a hand behind me. "I didn't make the connection until I saw his face. We exchanged a few words I wouldn't repeat then got to work."

"It's old news. Fuck him. I was just surprised to see you together, talking." He shrugged.

"He mentioned something, though."

"Probably lies," Justin mumbled, not meeting my eyes.

"He said you threatened him with a gun. Is that true?" I dropped my voice, lifting his chin with one finger. "Because it's a serious accusation, Justin. If it's true, you risk…"

"He won't tell anyone. We both put his actions to rest when I went after him with Cody." He sounded agitated. "It's over. Forget it. If you want the truth, I regret it. Besides, it made me feel bad. At least I didn't go all the way as Cody wanted."

"Cody? The guy you used to hang with when you were after homophobes?"

"Yes. What's with the questions? Come on, Brian."

Maybe he was right. If he was at peace with the past, and so it seemed Hobbs was too, maybe I should give it a rest, as well.

"Let me wrap up the meeting with him. We're going to dinner."

"Alone, please," he begged, wrapping his arms around me.

"Sure, Sunshine. I'll have a talk with Gus when we pick him up later."

"Must we? He can spend the night at Michael's. We'll be alone, at last."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Sounds like a plan. Come in. You can call and give him the news while I finish off with Hobbs."

"That plan sounds fabulous. Finish off with him, baby." He teased.

"Justin!" I groaned, opening the door of my office. "Mikey's number from the store is somewhere in my phone."

"I'll find it." He pecked my cheek before walking to my desk and throwing himself in the chair. He spun a few times, before stopping and fixating Hobbs with his eyes. Justin wasn't glaring or smirking, he was simply staring blankly at my client, which distracted him.

It also got on my nerves. I had no idea who I wanted to slap—the fucker next to me or my boyfriend.

I chose to bring my client back to our discussion by snapping my fingers in front of his eyes. He jumped, looking at me startled.

Justin started chuckling, but when I turned to look at him, he immediately busied himself with the phone. He was having too much fun with the power he now held over Hobbs.

It didn't take long to finish our meeting. We had both lost the concentration after Justin interrupted us with his impromptu visit, and he was making it difficult to continue too.

While he was on the phone with Michael he talked too loudly, then he found chewing gum in my desk drawer and started munching soundly, even creating balloons. When I thought he was done with acting like a brat, he started clicking on my computer until he found a song on YouTube probably and played it loudly, even asking if we liked the song.

"I'll let my assistant call you for our next meeting," I told Hobbs before closing the door after him.

"That was very rude. If it was any other client you wouldn't have done it," I said upset, stalking to where Justin resumed spinning on my chair.

"He's boring. Besides, I thought you were busy with the gallery's ad," he said lazily.

"I am. I have more than one team. We can take more than one project at a time." I stopped the chair from spinning. "I think Gus's behavior rubbed on you."

"How so?" he asked innocently, chewing noisily.

"You're such a brat, Justin. I missed this attitude of yours."

"Good. You're gonna see it a lot more if you don't make appointments on time. We're together now, and I want you home every night for dinner. If you don't make it, you'll get bratty Justin. I might as well send you to sleep on the couch."

"Aye!" I saluted, squatting to his level and kissing him softly. He wound his hand around my tie, keeping me still and kissing me back, his tongue invading my mouth. When I tipped his head back to get better access, he pulled away coughing.

"Fuck. I swallowed it. And don't you dare laugh," he threatened me lightly.

"Well, serves you right." I ruffled his hair. "A gum won't kill you. Drink lots of fluids and you'll be fine."

"I can start with your fluids," he teased, tracing the front of my pants with a finger.

"Or, you can wait for later. We're still at work. Want to see my ideas for the gallery's ad?"

He grabbed my dick, squeezing. "I want you here."

"Justin…" I protested feebly.

My warning went unheard. Justin pulled me even closer, slowly unzipping my pants.

I looked over my shoulder, worried of what my employees would see. Thankfully, they were all otherwise occupied.

"Sit." He stood up, pushing me down into my chair, before dropping to his knees under my desk.

Jesus Christ. He is actually going to blow me.

Opening my pants, Justin pulled my hard dick out, licking his full lips. He'd always been amazing at blow jobs, a natural talent. I'd missed his mouth as much as I'd missed his person, or close enough.

"Head will be fifty, but considering the risk of getting caught, I'll take a hundred." He smiled sweetly, meeting my eyes.

I gasped, before schooling my features. He wanted to play? Good.

I was all for PDA, but not at work; at least, not in a public area like my office. The bathroom was a different and old story.

"I'll decide how much you deserve after you're done."

His eyes widened. Yes, two could play a game, Taylor.

"I usually collect up front."

"You'll make an exception this time." I placed a finger under his jaw, tugging at his chin to open his mouth.

He seemed to regain his wits. "I always swallow, Mr. Kinney."

I nearly jizzed myself like an unexperienced preteen boy…something only Justin could make me do.

"Touché," I mouthed.

He winked, wrapped his hand at the base of my dick and went for the kill. He licked around the head, sucking it into his mouth with loud, obscene sounds, until I could taste blood from biting my lip to keep from moaning.

Then, he engulfed my entire dick in his mouth. I could see his throat expanding from swallowing me. Justin peered up through half closed eyes, and hummed. My eyes crossed in pleasure.

I pressed a hand at the back of his head and guided him over my erection. Jesus, it felt so good! The sounds he was making were ripped out of a pornographic movie, but he knew exactly what I liked, how I liked it. As he reached a hand for my balls, my phone rang loudly.

We both jumped, and Justin nearly hit his head on the inside of my desk.

"Stop," I hissed, pushing against his shoulder. "It's Michael."

He pulled away with a loud pop, frowning. "So answer him. I'm just enjoying my Brian-flavored lollipop."

"Justin," I threatened him through clenched teeth, daring him to go back to sucking me. When I picked up the phone, he squeezed the base of my cock, smiling innocently.

"Mikey," I greeted my friend with a hitched breath.

"Hey. You okay?"

"Yes." I gasped when Justin gave me a long lick, flattening his tongue over the length of my dick.

"I'm headed home. Any idea when you're coming?"

"Soon." I moaned, as Justin took me back in his mouth, blowing me with renewed vigor.

There was a short pause from Mikey, before I heard a long sigh. It meant he caught on to what I was doing.

"Really, Brian? I mean, seriously. What the fuck are you doing?"

He knew me too well. I probably couldn't even roll my eyes without him knowing. "I'm at work," I breathed out, trying to lie as best as I could while being deep-throated.

Michael snorted. "Yeah, right. I hoped this time was for real—you and Justin. No more bullshit. No more fucking around."

"What the fuck are you talk… Yeesss! Fuck. Like that!" I grunted when Justin pressed a finger under my balls, slowly circling my hole. I shifted lower on the chair to give him better access.

"Brian, I'm serious!" Mikey snapped, reminding me I was on the phone with him.

"Mikey, can't talk…now…ahh." I panted as Justin doubled the effort to get me off. "Later… Call you…" I threw my head back, gritting my teeth when he ducked his head to suck on my real ball. It amazed me that he remembered which one was real.

I could hear Michael was on a roll, but I hung up. I'd deal with him later.

Besides, he really had to have more faith in me. I'd never cheat on Justin.

"Suck me." I moved Justin's head to the tip of my dick.

"Greedy, aren't we?"

"Needy. Suck me, already, or God help me, I'll take you against the desk."

His blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Is that a promise?"

I stroked his cheek. "Maybe another time…when we're alone in here…after hours."

"It's a date!" He grinned at me, going back to work.

It didn't take long for me to explode down his throat. As promised, he swallowed every last drop. Licking his lips, Justin got up from under my desk after tucking me back in my pants and planted his hands on the armrests of my chair. He leaned over and kissed me deeply, never breaking eye-contact.

"I love you," he murmured, pecking my lips repetitively, unable to separate.

"Should I pay you more for the affection?" I joked, running my fingers through his hair.

Justin plopped on my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. "Way to ruin the mood, asshole!"

I peppered kisses on his neck, stopping at his ear. "I love you, Justin." I caught the lobe between my lips. "Always have, always will."

"Forever." He turned his head to kiss me, smiling.

Cynthia chose that moment to unceremoniously barge into my office. She gasped, turning red when she noticed the compromising position we were in. Lucky for her, she hadn't interrupted us earlier.

"I can…come back…later?"

"I'll be gone later. What is it?" I asked, holding Justin against my chest. I wasn't ready to let him go.

"I need your signature here." She placed a paper on my desk.

After scanning the document, I signed, pushing the paper to her. "Go home. It's Friday. We're leaving, too."

"Thank you. See you on Monday. Have fun!" She winked, waving over her shoulder as she walked out of my office.

"We will!" Justin said in a singing voice, making her laugh.

OoO

We had dinner at a nice restaurant. Justin kept eyeing me with an amused expression all through our evening, but I didn't question his behavior. I had learned my lesson long ago not to question him, unless I wanted one of his babbling speeches on one thing or another.

When we walked to the car, he stopped at the flower shop in the corner of the street and brought a red rose. I waited a few feet away, watching him with interest. If he wanted a rose, he could have said.

Justin offered it to me, smiling shyly. "Be my Valentine?"

My eyes widened.

It was today. I was such an idiot. I never cared for this stupid holiday, or any other love-related event.

When I didn't answer fast enough, his smile disappeared and he dropped his hand. "Too much?" He bit his lip, not meeting my eyes.

I cleared my throat, tilting his head with one finger. "I'd love to, Justin." I plucked the rose from his hand. "I forgot about today."

"I thought so, but don't worry." I could tell he'd lost some of his excitement.

"We don't need Valentine's Day, Justin. No one does. It's just for media."

He bristled, looking hurt. "It's for people who love each other!"

"I'd rather show you all year long what you mean to me, not only one day." I took his hand, rubbing my thumb over the top of it. "I love you every day, not one day every year."

It was still new to me to admit my feelings so openly, but at the same time, it was freeing to let him know how much I loved him; and to see him smiling his special mega-watt smile.

"Oh, Brian!" Justin threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

Our display got the attention of passer-byers and they cheered. Justin took the advantage of that and grabbed my face in his hands, kissing me full on the mouth. I wrapped my arms around his waist and lifted him, kissing him back furiously.

I wanted nothing more than to take him home, but we had to go to Mikey's and beg them to keep Gus overnight.

The drive to Michael and Ben's was quiet, except Justin humming along to the silly romantic songs on the radio.

"How did you get to town?" I asked suddenly, realizing I'd left early and took the car, obviously.

"The Fairy Godmother," he answered seriously.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"I found your old car…"

"She doesn't have gas."

"I know. So when I accepted our fate to be stranded there, we got a surprise visit." He beamed at me.

"From the Fairy Godmother?" I joked.

"It was only Mom, actually. She drove us to the gallery."

We stopped at a red light and I turned to face him. "If you want the 'Vette, I can have someone look at it and buy gas." I knew how much he liked that car.

"Really? If it's not too much, I mean. I'll help you pay for it."

I rolled my eyes. "Nonsense. Consider it a house-warming gift." I winked, leaning to peck his cheek.

"I thought the housewarming gift was you fucking me in every room."

He looked mock-hurt, and it made me laugh, but I didn't correct him.

At Mikey's I wasn't planning on staying long. After talking to Justin—which meant him forgiving Gus, we'd decided to bring Gus back home with us. We'd have time to be alone once he was gone, and we'd miss him. It wasn't often when my son visited.

I hated when the little shit was right.

Justin rang the doorbell as I inspected a lit up pink, heart-shaped object on their porch. They were both insane. I truly hoped I'd never cave to anything so ridiculous if Justin happened to like it.

The door opened to reveal Hunter. I had no idea he was visiting. He was studying to become a doctor at Northwestern University.

"Hi, Hunter!" Justin said excitedly.

"Hey. Come in," he mumbled, stepping aside.

"Something wrong?" I questioned his sulky tone.

"They're acting like kids."

"They are kids," Justin reminded him.

I stifled a smile. "Hunter's talking about Ben and Michael," I explained.

"You got it." Hunter pointed at finger to me. "I'll be in my room."

We went to the living room to find their once spotless place turned upside down. They seemed to be in a game of tag seeing as everyone was running, and JR was squealing loudly.

Gus was the first to see the guests. "Dad!" he shouted, rushing to me. "Play with us!"

I shared a panicked look with Justin, who chuckled and pushed me to join the crazy people. Michael caught my eye from across the room, and frowned.

Oh, he still thought I had a trick earlier, which made me grin at him. I read somewhere that smiles confused people, and I loved keeping him confused about my personal life.

"We were wrapping up the play-time. The adults are tired," he said loudly. "Honey, why don't you go change Jenny's clothes? She's sweaty," he added to Ben.

"Sorry, buddy. Maybe tomorrow." I winked at Gus, hoping he'd forget about it. "Go, get your stuff. We're going home."

"I'll change her shirt," he offered, taking his sister's hand and walking toward the stairs.

It was just us, the adults, and I could feel the tension building up.

"Want a drink?" Ben offered, breaking the silence.

"Sure, honey. Go with Justin. We'll join you soon," Michael told him.

I nodded to Justin, knowing I had to face Michael and his questions. I had to explain what he had heard wasn't exactly what he thought.

He advanced on me the second we were alone. "Are you fucking stupid, Brian? How many people have to tell you how much that guy loves you?" he whisper-shouted, not being very credible.

It was actually quite funny how concerned he was about Justin all of a sudden.

"About as much as I love him, I suspect." I shrugged.

"Then why the fuck would you go behind his back to your old ways?"

I chuckled, patting his cheek and leaving my hand resting there. "Believe it or not, it was all Justin's doing…what you heard."

Mikey's eyebrows shot up. "You were whacking off at work thinking of him? You're falling in the other extreme—fast."

"He paid me a visit—a satisfying one." I winked.

"Christ. In your office, Brian?" He made a face. "Were you…fucking? That would be so you. Talking on the phone while getting your rocks off."

I laughed, wrapping my arm around his neck. "No. Let's just say, Justin was thirsty." I steered us to the kitchen, smiling.

"You have no shame," Michael mumbled.

"Like you haven't done that at the store with Ben." Justin offered me a glass of amber liquid when we reached them. I downed it in one gulp. "It's late. We'll have to catch up next week. Promise," I told them, ready to get home. "Gus, hurry up!" I shouted up the stairs.

"Oh, yes. We can swap stories of how was our week with the kids." Ben nodded.

"I'll tell you now—long," Justin answered.

"Which reminds me, Gus is off TV or games until he apologizes," I added, remembering what he'd done earlier to Justin.

"Don't be mean. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Sunshine, you came to me with suicidal thoughts after spending a few hours alone with Gus."

"Try spending a day with JR. You'll start searching for your coffin," Michael joked.

"Bummer. I didn't keep your present from my thirtieth birthday." I laughed

"Or less macabre," Ben added. "You'd want a one-way ticket to a far-away country."

"That bad?" Justin asked worried.

I walked to the bottom of the stairs, clearing my throat. "GUS!"

"I'm here. Chill." He descended, scowling at me.

"Good. Let's go." I placed my hand on his shoulder.

Ben bid us goodbye, before going to check on their daughter.

Michael led us to the car, and as Justin buckled Gus in the backseat, he came to my side. "Nice." He pointed to the rose sitting on the dashboard.

"Justin's other present." I grinned.

"He was always a romantic."

"I can do romance too if I want. I'll see you on Sunday when we give the kids to their mommies." I took his face in my hands. "Have a nice night, Mikey." I pecked his mouth.

"You too. As much as possible." He smirked.

"You bet."

On the way home, Gus fell asleep, making Justin paranoid. He insisted I drove slower so Gus wouldn't fall between the seats, considering he was lying on the bench.

It made me wonder of the way he'd act if we had a child of our own. But I pushed that thought away quickly. I was nearing an even scarier milestone age, and being the father of a baby wasn't on my To Do list. Though, if it was something Justin wanted, I wouldn't think twice.

When we arrived home, I carried Gus to his room while Justin went to ours, to wait for me.

It didn't take me long to wake Gus enough to change him in his pajamas, before tucking him under the blanket.

I expected Justin to be naked and all playful, ready for another round, but what I found on the bed made me snort. He was fast asleep, lying on the covers in only his boxers.

I tried pulling the covers from under him, but gave up when he wouldn't budge. I wrapped him in the cover and lay on my side of bed with the blanket. It would be funny in the morning to find Justin still wrapped in the covers, if he didn't kick it off the bed during the night.

I'd forgotten how agitated he was during the night—one of the few things I didn't miss.

The last few days I had with Gus were mostly spent at home, playing Wii games. I was getting pretty good at bowling, something I detested. Gus kept begging me to bring Justin to play with us, but I knew he was busy with figuring out what to paint and drawing Rage. He and Mikey wanted to publish the next number by the beginning of March.

Eventually, Justin joined us. The three of us had fun, and it gave me dreams of doing this more often. The downside was Gus living many miles away, which made me think again of having a family with Justin. He'd most likely think I was joking if I brought it up, but one of these days I might as well let him know my wishes.

Justin's POV

"Are you sure you want to change the roses to orchids?" Emmett asked for the fifth time in the past hour.

"Yes!" I almost shouted, throwing him a glare over my shoulder.

"Now, don't become an agitated bride. I hate that kind," he reminded me soothingly, waving a finger around in a circle, in true Emmett-style.

"I'm calm. Oh, this is bullshit!" I squeezed the phone in my hand. No one I called was picking up.

Emmett came to me, pried the device from my hand and wrapped his arms around me. "Now, tell your best wedding planner what's the matter. Is that future husband of yours being an ass…more than usual?"

I cracked a smile, relaxing in his hug. "Brian's perfect—as long as he doesn't wake up in the middle of night deciding to change stuff we carefully planned for months now. Then there's Daphne too. Why did I ever agree to that insanity?"

"Justin, you're just stressed. When's the last time you relaxed?"

"What's that mean? I forgot the concept of relaxation when I agreed to marry Brian the day he decided to pop the question in front of everyone at the diner, three months ago."

I still couldn't believe he'd actually asked me officially in public where everyone would know he was definitely off market.

I was waiting for Brian at the diner to have lunch when I decided to help Debbie clean around since it was rush hour and her new employee wasn't there. She tried protesting, but I took the tray from her hands, going to clear tables. I'd done this for years, I knew what I had to do.

Not long after I was back in my element, with Debbie smiling gratefully at me, the gang entered the diner. Michael was amused when he noticed who was taking their order.

"I'm helping your mom since her employee is late," I explained. "Now, what will you have?" I tapped the pen to my notepad.

They rattled off the usual stuff and after I placed their order to the cook, then I turned to ask Debbie if she needed anything else. But at that moment Brian stepped into the diner. His eyes zeroed to our friends' table, and he frowned when he didn't see me there.

Laughing, I walked over as he shuffled in their direction, visibly upset I wasn't there.

"And what will you have, Mr. Kinney?" I grinned at him.

He looked at me surprised, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm helping Debbie."

"Well, you can help her another time, there's something I want to tell you," he said confidently. Grabbing me by the loops of my jeans, he tugged me closer. "I've made a decision."

"You're going straight!" Emmett gasped, clutching at his heart theatrically.

"Shut up, Honeycutt!" Brian threw him a dirty look before focusing on me.

"What decision?" I asked, searching his eyes. I couldn't read him, and it kind of scared me.

He cleared his throat, glanced around, and no thanks to Emmett's obnoxious exclamation, everyone was looking at us, then he took my left hand, holding it tightly.

"Will you marry me, Justin?"

My jaw unhinged and I stared at him in shock. He didn't just propose in front of the whole diner. Our friends and family knew we were going to marry, of course, but now the whole gay community would know.

It was Brian's way to say he was taken—forever.

Brian squeezed my hand, narrowing his eyes at me.

Oh shit. I didn't answer.

"Yes!" I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.

He hugged me tightly. "You got me worried there for a second."

"No way! Brian Kinney, worried?" I teased, kissing his cheek soundly.

"It happens on occasions." He returned my kiss, before sitting down next to Michael, and pulling me on his lap. I guessed helping Debbie could wait.

Emmett pulled me out of my daydream as he led me to the couch. I had to admit, he was very professional when it came to working on the wedding. I knew he was great, but the last time I hadn't realized what the fuss about having Emmett Honeycutt as a wedding planner was. He was simply amazing.

After leaving me on the couch, he disappeared back into the kitchen, only to reappear ten minutes later with two cocktails.

"Now." He sat next to me, offering me a glass. "What about Daphne?"

"You know what." I gave him a pointed look.

Daphne was another unbelievable thing that happened to me in the past few months. I'd forgotten how hectic life in Pittsburgh could get. In New York, it was as if I lived in a shell, protecting myself from the best things in life.

Not long after making our engagement public and official, Brian and I, somehow—still not sure how—got talking about babies. The odd and funny part was he brought up the subject…out of nowhere.

Of course, when I reluctantly admitted I'd like to have a baby with him, he immediately said I'd be the father. He already had Gus, and he doubted any doctor would accept his sperm after his history with cancer.

Sometime after that conversation, I found myself in the hospital being tested and checked to see if I could be a father. When we got the green light, we had one tiny problem left—a woman to carry the baby. With Melanie and Lindsay in Canada, and both too old to conceive without risks, we lost hope. The excitement had died down fast.

I was ready to forget about our lost dream when one night, a while ago, I got a call from Daphne telling me to pick her up from the airport. It was one in the morning and I was tired. Initially, I thought it was a joke, but then I realized she was actually back.

Brian and I quickly got dressed and drove to the airport to pick up a distressed Daphne. She was done with New York and idiots who promised stuff only to break their promises. It turned out her boyfriend was still a jerk, like I remembered him from high school, and hadn't shown his true face until after I left.

The first morning she stayed with us, I found her and Brian in the kitchen discussing something seriously. He mentioned our desire to have a baby to her. To my surprise, Daphne offered, saying she'd do anything for me, and having my baby would make her feel important and forget about New York.

A few weeks later, she rushed into Michael's store where we were brainstorming for Rage, to let me know she was pregnant.

It was then when the nightmare began. She was sick every day and seemed to have forgotten all about being happy to have my baby. Her parents, who had always loved me, tried to talk sense into her, saying I was using her and I'd toss her to the curb the second I had what I wanted. That was the last time she'd seen them, about a month ago. At the moment, Daphne was living with us, but I could tell she wasn't happy about the arrangements.

On top of this, Brian was constantly busy with work and when he got home, I tried talking to him during dinner, but that was short lived. After eating, we simply crashed from a long day.

Exactly what he'd feared was happening—routine, busy lives, no time for fun, monotony. I hated thinking Brian was right when he knew why he kept himself away from all these things from the beginning. At least, I knew he was mine and I had him next to me every night.

Emmett had listened patiently to everything I said, nodding in understanding. He patted my hand when I was done.

"You need a few days away from this madness."

"That's settled. I have to attend an event in San Francisco this weekend. My friend from New York has a show there."

"Is Brian going with you?"

"I hope so," I mumbled, sipping from my cocktail.

"He should. You both need to get away from this routine."

"I'll talk to him tonight."

"Allow me. I love involving the groom in the wedding planning. And relaxing the bride is part of my job." Emmett winked.

"Why does everyone see me as the wife?" I scowled at him. "I'm going to be Brian's husband! His partner."

"Don't fool yourself, sweetie. Look at Michael. He accepted his role."

"Can we move on? We need to discuss the flower arrangements, then I have to get a hold of Daphne to see if she's staying with her friend or needs a lift back here—"

"You're doing it again. Stop stressing over the wedding." He pursed his lips. "You're not doing anything for the wedding until after you return from San Francisco. Let me handle it. As for Daphne, forget about her. I'll talk to her." He pulled me up. "Go, take a relaxing bath. I'll prepare a romantic dinner for you and Brian then leave you two lovebirds. You both need to loosen up."

I was about to freak all over again.

Forget about Daphne?

Forget about the wedding?

Take a bath? Huh, I couldn't remember the last time I soaked. If Emmett's plan worked, I might get laid by the end of the night. Even sex had been part of the routine lately, which scared me the most.

Brian had always been right, and I'd been too young and in love to understand how right he was.

When I finished my bath, I wrapped a bathrobe around me and went downstairs to check on Emmett.

He was gone, but there was a note on the counter.

Sunshine,

Daphne's staying at her friend's for the rest of the week.

Enjoy the food!

Relax.

Have fun in S. F.!

Keep Brian on his toes, you're doing an amazing job!

Love, Emmett xoxo

P.S. There are strawberries in the refrigerator

I chuckled, leaving the note there. I was on my way upstairs to change when the front door opened to show me a disheveled Brian.

"What's wrong?" His appearance made me think of the worst.

"You," he whispered, coming closer and pressing his forehead to mine. "You're okay."

"I am."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me when you didn't answer the phone. I was in a meeting earlier when you called, and my phone was in my office charging."

"Oh, that explains it. Well, I took a bath and didn't hear the phone," I answered sheepishly.

"I can see." He smirked deviously, loosening my string tie.

"No. No. No." I slapped his hands playfully. He pouted adorably. I leaned up to kiss him. "Food first."

"You cooked?"

"Emmett offered to make us dinner."

"He's a decent cook."

I grabbed him by his striped tie and led him to the kitchen.

I doubt either of us tasted the paella dish. We inhaled it, eager to continue where we left off in the hallway.

Brian found Emmett's note and grinned. "He left the strawberries he brought for tasting. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You want?" I asked innocently.

"Do you have to ask?"

I dropped a kiss on his cheek on the way to the fridge. The plates crashing to the floor made me turn surprised, in time to see Brian clearing the table. He tapped the wooden top. "Hop on."

Stepping carefully around the mess he'd made, and trying not to get upset over broken plates, I climbed on the table. He untied my bathrobe, took a strawberry and trailed it over my chest, circling my nipples before going lower. It stopped at my navel, where it dipped in making me squirm. Brian leaned over me and bit from the fruit, coating my stomach in strawberry juice, then proceeded to slowly lick it up.

The teasing and the long wait for this moment were too much for my tormented body.

"Please, Brian. I need you." I threaded my fingers through his hair.

"Let me have some fun first." He nipped at my stomach.

I sat up on my elbows, awkwardly pushing his jacket off his shoulders then unbuttoning his shirt. "How about you fuck me against the table, or on the table whichever you prefer. Then you can take your sweet time."

"Scoot over," he commanded. After locating the bottle of lube I had strategically put in a kitchen drawer for times like this, he placed my knees on either side of his shoulders pouring generous amounts of lube over my crack. I gasped at the cold sensation, but his fingers warmed it up fast as they stretched me.

I helped by ripping the condom foil open and handing it to him. "I'm ready." If he kept teasing me I'd finish before he even began.

Brian unzipped his pants, pulled his dick out, rolled the condom over it and pushed into me, his hands bracing on the back of my thighs.

I groaned loudly. I missed having him inside me, filling me so completely. His eyes stayed locked with mine as he moved slowly, smiling. My fingers grasped at his back and he seemed to understand I needed more, because his rhythm changed.

Pulling almost all the way out, he thrust back fast only to repeat the motion again and again and again. My head fell back on the other side of the table as I shouted in ecstasy. This was what I needed—a good fucking, the way only Brian knew how to deliver.

The table moved a few inches as he kept his maddening pace, but I didn't care.

All too soon for my liking, the tell-tale signs of my impeding release started to show. My balls tightened, my stomach muscles clenched, my toes curled, my fingers dug into Brian's back no doubt leaving marks, but that was the last thing on my mind, especially when he changed the angle a little, nailing my prostate. My back arched as I exploded over our chests…without even being touched.

Brian stopped momentarily, sweat falling from his hair on my chest as he eyed my twitching cock kind of surprised, then his eyes rolled back and his hips jerked erratically a few times until he came, collapsing on top of me.

He nuzzled against my ear, breathing hard against it. "Love you."

I stroked his sweaty hair, smiling widely. "Why can't we do this every day?"

"We don't want routine. Next time we could fuck in the hallway," he suggested, nipping at my ear.

"Or you could show me your sweet side and make love to me in front of the fireplace."

"As long as you lock the dog away. The last time we did that he decided to rim me."

He shuddered at the horrifying experience, but I burst out laughing. He'd looked positively terrified and I hadn't been supportive at all, rolling on the floor laughing like crazy.

"Well, there's bad sex too," I said lightly.

"That's true, Sunshine, but the dog interrupting wasn't bad sex. It was plain and simple cockblocking."

I chuckled, kissing his cheek. "Alright. I'll lock Cupcake away before we test the rug in the living room again. Now, take me to bed."

"You greedy little shit."

OoO

The event in San Francisco was one of the best gallery shows I'd ever seen. Brian didn't admire the paintings as much as me, but even he could appreciate the artist's talent.

I'd made some great friends through the years in New York, and they always invited me to their shows, just like I invited them to mine. Simon wasn't the exception. He was my best friend, though we hadn't talked much in the past few months. He'd been busy preparing for this show.

"Do you want to go to the after party, too?" I asked, distracting Brian from ogling the waiter who was mingling, offering champagne.

He grinned at me. "Sure. I want to experience this."

"It's not very exciting. They're usually held at a rich guy's house, there's chamber music, drinks and boring talk."

"Sounds fascinating." Brian winked, taking my hand. "We can go back to the hotel if you don't want to go."

I could tell he wanted to go, and I reminded myself he wasn't used to this. I used to attend at least five parties like this per month when I was in New York. "It's okay. I forgot it's your first time in such environment."

"I've been to your opening in New York, and the one Linz organized for you all those years ago."

"Oh, right. But this is different. This is a posh event. I didn't have an after party. Never."

"Too bad. I'll take notes and throw you a fabulous party after your next opening." He leaned closer, kissing me softly.

I still marveled at how much he'd changed. "That will probably be after the wedding. I'm still not sure what I'm going to paint. I need a new theme."

Brian faced me, tapping his lips with a long finger. "How about…love?" He said the last word so softly, but holding so much meaning it made my heart stutter. "I promise to inspire you every day." His lips pressed against mine, his tongue sneaking into my mouth.

It made me dizzy. Only Brian could make me lose my head in a room full of people. "Let's not steal Simon's moment of glory." I laughed nervously, pulling away.

He realized people were staring, and shrugged. "Let's hit that after party. If it sucks, we can find a bathroom."

"Always the romantic." I wrapped my arms around his waist, walking outside the gallery.

"I'm not sure if they want to turn the party into an orgy, because if that's the case, I'd take you in front of everyone."

"Don't," I begged, trying not to burst out laughing. "You'll ruin my reputation of a good boy."

One hour into the boring party, I'd talked to all the right people, congratulated Simon on his work and was ready to politely excuse ourselves. Brian brought fresh drinks, kissing my cheek as he handed me the glass.

I couldn't get used to this sweet and romantic side of him. It was still the Brian I knew and loved, but more open about his feelings which made him adorable in such moments. Of course, I'd never tell him that, he'd probably bite my head off.

Simon clinked his glass, getting everyone's attention.

Damn. He was right next to us and it would be impossible to leave. Heaving a sigh, I leaned against Brian's chest. He kept an arm around my shoulders, his chin resting on top of my head. It gave me a feeling of contentment.

Simon started a speech about thanking everyone for attending his show and joining him at the party, before he started praising his boyfriend. We had yet to meet his boyfriend he spoke so highly of; he was the surprise.

I tuned Simon out, waiting for our escape, imagining the glorious night we were going to spend at the hotel. Brian had promised to put the DO NOT DISTURB sign to good use.

My daydreaming was interrupted by a name Simon said excitedly.

"Without further ado, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, the amazingly talented violinist—Ethan Gold!"

I felt more than heard Brian's quick intake of breath, then his hand clamped on my bicep. I was too tense to feel any pain.

I'd never thought our paths would ever cross.

When my ex-lover stepped into the room, stopping in the circle that had formed, his eyes found his boyfriend and he smiled. He hadn't changed at all—the same curly black hair, same dark eyes, skinny and with that air of importance and arrogance he always had. Sometimes I wondered what the hell I saw in him.

As Ethan raised his fiddle to his shoulder, our eyes met for a fraction of second. He looked alarmed, his mouth dropping before he quickly schooled his features, closing his eyes and starting to play. I recognized the song from the time we were together. He used to play it a lot.

"Air," I breathed to Simon who nodded absentmindedly, his focus on his boyfriend.

Linking my hand with Brian's, I pulled him outside on the patio, sliding down the brick wall.

I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but I was probably in shock. It was the only explanation of why my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Raising my eyes I found Brian staring at me with a frown and a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"We talked about quitting smoking," I said automatically. "It won't be good for the baby."

"Justin." He crouched in front of me, placing a hand on my knee. "Are you okay?"

I looked down, sighing. "I don't know."

"We can leave." He glanced inside through the glass ceiling-to-floor walls. Ethan was still playing.

"No. It will make me a coward. I guess if he seeks me out…I'll talk to him."

"You don't have to. The asshole hurt you." He was getting upset and I didn't want to ruin our night.

"He did promise me a lot, but he chose his career over our relationship, over his true nature. The part that made me leave was the cheating. Though, I understood him completely the day I left you…why he decided to hide who he was and take whatever was thrown at him…it was his only choice to make a name of himself."

"Do not compare yourself to him! Your reasons were different, and I might have had a say in all that." He squeezed my knee.

"Maybe our break was good. We both grew up." I reached for his hand. He stroked my palm, smiling.

"It's been the worst years of my life…living without you," Brian admitted.

A throat clearing from above us announced us Ethan was done playing and he'd sought me out.

"Am I interrupting?"

Yes, I thought. "Hi," I chose to say.

"We were discussing you, actually," Brian told him, flipping my hand over to show him my ring. I liked this possessive side of him.

"I'm sorry, Justin. Hiding wasn't the best idea." Ethan rested his shoulders against the wall, a few feet away from us.

"Hiding is never a good idea," I admitted. "It blows up in your face, eventually."

"That's what happened to me. A couple years back I was invited to play with London Orchestra Symphony. I met a cute guy who played cello. He showed me around during my stay—mostly pubs. One night we both got plastered and I forgot I was the youngest newest oversees sensation and papz were on my ass day and night. Short story, we gave the locals quite the show in the pub, in the street and in the hotel's lobby. Needless to say, the news hit the media and the next morning I was contactless."

I really felt bad for him.

"You got what you deserved," Brian said acidly.

"Hey." I squeezed his hand. Before I could add anything, some sympathetic words to Ethan, my phone rang.

Daphne.

Every time I saw her name flashing on the small screen, my heart jumped in my throat, making me think the worst.

"It's Daph," I whispered to Brian, walking a few feet away. During my conversation with her, I kept my eyes on Brian and Ethan, hoping Brian wouldn't do anything stupid. It turned out Daphne only wanted to check on us, because she was bored.

She was housesitting and also taking care of the pets. Cupcake was still crazy, but the money we spent in training him started showing it wasn't in vain.

I rejoined them, standing next to Brian who was smoking another cigarette.

"Daphne okay?" he asked casually.

"Yeah, just bored."

"Good. Shouldn't she be asleep?"

"She's a night bird." I caught Ethan staring at us, confused. "Remember my friend Daphne? She's pregnant, and Brian worries too much. He'll have gray hair soon." I stroked his hair adoringly.

"Don't joke!" He said horrified. "Besides, you should be worried too. It's your child she's carrying."

"I trust her to take care of my baby. Like you trusted Lindsay."

"You're having a child?" Ethan's question was lost to Simon stumbling out of the house, slightly intoxicated.

"There you are!" He wrapped himself around Ethan. "Oh, so you met Justin. He's very talented, too. I'm sorry I missed your opening a few months ago. We'll be there for the next one. I miss New York."

"Uh, I moved back to Pittsburgh," I explained.

"Oh."

"Yeah. After the wedding I'll focus on the next show."

Too late, I realized what I'd said. That brought even more questions.

Eventually, Brian managed to keep the situation under control. A little while later, we said our goodbyes, promising to send them an invitation to the wedding.

Justin's POV

We were back home for a few weeks and things had changed for the better.

The routine that had once settled upon us was long gone. Brian loved surprising me every morning or evening, and I kept things interesting by meeting him for lunch.

I usually called or e-mailed him telling him a restaurant or hotel name, reminding him of our affair. The first time I'd sent him such a message, he was confused, but when we met at the little café, and I acted all coy and kept telling him I was better than that boyfriend of his, he caught on.

1 PM at the small café on Fifth Ave, near Mellon Park.

I hit send, hoping this worked. I remembered this method of spicing things up as Mom mentioned it long ago to me when she was trying to work things out with Dad. It didn't work for her.

Truthfully, I never thought I'd need to spice things up with Brian, but life managed to ruin what we once had. It was time for an intervention with role-play.

His reply came promptly. 1:30 I have a meeting at 12.

I arrived first and ordered two coffees, sitting at a window table. As I waited, I doodled on a napkin, wondering if I'd lost my mind. I hadn't drawn a smiling sun since I was like five.

Someone appeared in my personal space, and a pair of lips kissed my neck. If I hadn't smelled Brian, I'd have probably started screaming.

He placed something in front of me, but my eyes were on him as he took a seat across from me. Then I looked down, and my heart skipped a beat. There lay a pink rose, not quite bloomed, but not a bud either. It was so beautiful, and the gesture spoke a million words I knew he still struggled to say.

I picked it carefully, sniffing delicately. The fragrance made me dizzy.

"Why pink?"

"You're a fag," he joked.

"Oh, that explains it. I was wondering why I found you so hot. Thanks for making it so painfully clear." I rolled my eyes, laughing. "Thankyou. It's so beautiful." I touched the petals carefully, stroking them.

Brian smiled, taking a sip from his coffee. "Thought you'd like it. Anyway, why are we here?"

Now how the fuck do I tell him I want to break the routine…without having him laugh his ass off at me.

"So no one finds out about our affair," I blurted out.

"You're a few years too late. Did you take any drugs?"

"Especially that princess you call a boyfriend. I thought no one will find about us here."

Brian frowned, looking at me concerned. "Where did you take the drugs from? Must have been the bad shit."

I almost ruined my pretense game, but tried one last attempt at making him see what was going on.

My foot rubbed his ankle under the table, as I reach for his hand, smiling. "I thought I was your dirty little secret, your cock whore…that's what you told me in San Francisco."

And I waited, and waited for him to catch on. He'd mentioned how much he liked our time there, away from Pittsburgh, because when you were out of town you could do whatever without anyone knowing who you are or judging you too harshly. I took it like a game back then.

Brian's mouth opened, forming a little circle, before a smirk appeared on his face. "Oh, now I see what you're doing."

Finally. I wanted to shout.

"This was so sneaky of you, but still. Why here? Are you going to suck me under the table?"

His question threw me off. I should have expected it from Brian, but I hadn't thought so far.

"We can try their bathroom," I said after a long time of staring at Brian.

He downed his coffee before standing.

"Don't go!" I scrambled up. Shit. He didn't like my game.

"You promised sucking my dick. Come on. I don't have much time before I need to get back to work."

I snorted, following him to the men's room like an eager puppy, having the sole purpose to make him forget about his stupid job. He was driving me crazy with how much he was working.

Sadly, the small café had only one stall and we took full advantage of it. The space was so small we shuffled a lot before I finally managed to find a good position—sitting on the toilet while he stood in front of me, hands on my shoulders.

As I started sucking, Brian began moaning, his fingers clenching in my hair, hips bucking.

I pulled away, enough to warn him about being quiet. "We're not in the Backroom of Babylon. Be quiet."

"Shut up and suck." He pushed me back to his dick.

When he found his release, he mumbled my name, before falling back against the door, breathing harshly. I leaned forward to tuck him in his pants, grinning up at him.

"Next time, you better choose a place with a bed."

"Duly noted." I stood, kissing him long, hard, full of passion.

"Your turn." Brian spun me around, pressing my back against the door, opening my cargo pants and reaching inside. He started jerking me off and my head fell against the door as I bit my lip. "I want to hear you." He sucked at my earlobe, rubbing faster.

"Fuuuuck!" I cried out when he squeezed me hard, tugging harshly. It was exactly what I needed.

I hadn't done such dangerous things in years.

The door of the men's room opened and I bit my fist. Brian pushed my hand away. "Let them hear what a dirty boy you are."

"Brian," I whimpered.

I was too far gone in my lust daze to marvel at how he'd managed to kneel and take me in his mouth, but it all I needed. I exploded in his mouth, gasping loudly, my head banging repeatedly against the door.

"You alright in there?" A deep voice asked.

Fuck. "Yes," I managed to squeak out as Brian kept sucking.

When my tremors finally subsided, Brian stood, kissing me roughly, opening the door. I nearly spilled out but he grabbed my elbow, laughing. We both froze upon seeing the man waiting a few feet away.

He gave us a disgusted look, leaving the room, forgetting he probably needed to piss.

"Asshole," Brian muttered, keeping his arm around my waist. His lips kissed at the side of my face.

We returned to our table and after a few minutes of simply staring at each other like two lunatics, grinning, his phone rang. It was the end of our fun.

oOo

Not long after the café rendezvous I saw an ad on the Internet about cheap rates at a hotel downtown. Deciding to be spontaneous, I booked us a room and shot Brian an email.

To: Brian Kinney

From: JT

Subject: Midday rendezvous?

Hello lover,

Find attached the details for our room at Hampton Inn Pittsburgh.

Don't let your boyfriend hear about this. :-P

I'll be waiting in our room.

JT

PS: Clothing is optional.

PPS: Should I order Champagne?

I had to wait one hour for his reply.

To: JT

From: Brian Kinney

Subject: New email address?

I'm wondering if I should have you committed. You do realize you are both my secret lover and my boyfriend/fiancé, right?

Anyway, I'll see you there. Could have found a better hotel, though. Might as well live big.

Order anything you want. I'm paying.

Brian Kinney

CEO Kinnetik

PS: Don't forget lube and condoms!

I burst out laughing scaring the poor cat who was perched on the desk next to my laptop. She shot me a dirty look before trotting out of the room.

"Sorry!" I called after her. "Your daddy is crazy, not me."

Packing us a small bag of supplies and other things I thought we might need, I went to the car.

That had been another wonderful unplanned meeting, which brought some of the best sex we ever had.

oOo

Brian loved to play these games as much as me.

He'd even initiated one of these meetings by sending me an email not long ago asking to meet him at Babylon as quick as possible. I thought something had gone wrong, of course.

To: JT

From: Brian Kinney

Subject: Meet me at Babylon

Whatever you're doing, drop it and meet me at Babylon.

Brian Kinney

CEO Kinnetik

I arrived like the wind at the club, wondering what could have happened to go so early at the club. It was almost four in the afternoon.

I stepped in the club, looking around the deserted dance floor.

"Brian?" I called loudly, curious and confused.

He appeared from behind me, his arms wrapping around me tightly, lips at my neck. "I'm horny as hell."

I gasped, slipping out of his grasp. "I left a meeting with Emmett about our wedding so you could get your rocks off?"

He smirked. "What about the times you dragged me different places."

"We've fucked in Babylon before."

"Oh, we're trying new places? I had no idea we had a rule."

"Since it's empty…" I averted. "I always wanted to fuck on the bar."

"Sunshine has kinky fantasies." Brian laughed, tugging me to the bar. "Is the fucking preceded by body shots?"

I only managed to shake my head. My little fantasy was a silly dream meant to never come true.

"Too bad." He went behind the counter, pouring Beam in two glasses. "To kinky little Sunshine."

I laughed, toasting. "To more sneaking around like this."

A few drinks later, Brian had me bent over the counter, then later on top of it. I'd never look at the bar the same way again.

We didn't indulge in these special secret meetings often, but lately I needed our rendezvous. These past few days had been crazy busy and I was losing my mind.

The wedding planning was going perfectly. Emmett had managed to find decent prices for flights and a nice, cozy cabana in Vermont, where we decided to have the ceremony. They had recently legalized gay marriages, and we didn't want to go to Canada only to run in the same problem Ben and Michael had all those years ago.

Emmett talked to the owner of the cabana who'd promised to help organize everything.

The wedding was in July, the only month Brian found a window in his hectic schedule, big enough to accommodate traveling out of state and maybe a pseudo-honeymoon. As much as I wanted to marry him, I told him I didn't need a honeymoon. He insisted we needed one, and he'd take care of it, and that was the end of the short argument.

The only problem we encountered so far was Daphne. When I called her excited to tell her about Emmett booking flights and renting the cabana, she nearly lost her shit. She wouldn't be able to fly being pregnant. We hadn't thought of that, which brought me to my current stressing.

I was fretting over the Daphne issue, not sure how we could solve the problem, thus I needed a break.

I decided to visit Brian at work and take it from there. We could play one of our games, or simply be us, either way was cool with me as long as I didn't think of the wedding for a few hours.

When I arrived at Kinnetik, the place looked deserted, which was odd. There was usually a flurry of activity and Brian shouting at the top of his lungs at everyone who screwed up.

Maybe there was a meeting over the new account they got. Brian had been talking about it for weeks.

At the corner of the hallway that led to Brian's office, I bumped into Cynthia. She flushed, her eyes widening.

"Justin!"

"Hi." I grinned. "Is Brian busy?"

She bit her lip. "Kind of."

"I'll wait in his office." I walked closer to his quarters, Cynthia hot on my heels.

"He's in there with someone," she said hurriedly.

"Oh." I stopped near the doors, contemplating whether I should wait or simply leave him a message to meet me somewhere.

But before I could think of a plan, I heard a loud groan, unmistakably Brian's. I knew that kind of groan oh too well.

My blood ran cold.

No way. He wouldn't.

Yet another moan, louder, longer.

Cynthia reached a hand as if to stop me, eyeing me worried. "Justin…" She rushed after me as I marched to his office, my heart beating out of my chest.

I stopped at the glass doors, staring at the scene in front of me. Brian was sprawled on the couch, face down, shirtless. A black, muscly guy was straddling his hips, his hands on Brian's back.

Seriously? Bottoming? I stared in disbelief at him, my heart shattering. A lump formed in my throat right before my vision was flooded with tears.

Brian chose that moment to turn his head to the door. His eyes were closed, but I could clearly see the mixture of pleasure and pain on his face.

"Right there," he encouraged the black dude. "Oh. Just like that." He groaned loudly, his body relaxing.

I pushed against the glass door, slamming it into the wall, as I stepped inside his office.

Unfocused hazel eyes found me, and he gasped, startled. "Justin?" Brian frowned when he realized I was crying. He shrugged off the other guy, and it took me only a moment to realize what a fool I was.

They were both wearing pants.

Brian's back was glistening with something. He was having a massage.

I wished the earth could swallow me whole. Why couldn't I trust him? Why?

"Justin? What happened?" Brian asked worried, trying to sit up, but he groaned in pain, grabbing at his back.

Fuck. He was hurt.

I brushed my tears away, giving him a nervous smile. "I'm an idiot. Don't mind me. What's wrong with you?"

I half expected a make-up story, but surprisingly he went with the truth.

"I bent after a pen fell to the floor earlier, and couldn't straighten my back. Cynthia knew Dwayne. He offered to come over and give me a massage." He gestured to his companion, who was hovering at the end of the couch.

"Oh. Don't let me interrupt," I mumbled, edging away.

Brian held a hand to Dwayne, who left his office. His eyes found mine, soft and concerned. "Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm an idiot. I saw…I heard…you moaned…he was on top of you… You get the picture."

He sighed heavily. "The story about the boy who cried wolf applies to me."

I knelt in front of him so we were eye-level, then I took his face in my hands. "Listen to me. I trust you." I kissed his forehead. "I forgave you everything." I kissed his cheeks. "I love you." I kissed his mouth.

"I don't deserve you, Sunshine." He pulled away gently. "Why did you come here anyway? I thought you were busy with Emmett."

"It's a long story."

"Can you bring Dwayne back? I'll listen to your bedtime story while he works my back."

Dwayne joined us again, taking his previous place, straddling Brian's ass.

I tried to keep my temper in check, especially when I saw the relaxed look on Brian's face—he seemed to be experiencing the greatest pleasure imaginable.

"So you bent after a pen and…what happened? You got a pain in your back?" I watched the man above my fiancé carefully, wanting to learn and do it myself later. Even though he was helping Brian, I wanted to break his hands.

"Technically, I was stuck—bent over in my chair, head down, ass in the air." He chuckled, his eyes dancing on my face. Of course he'd find it funny. "I think I scared Cynthia, but I simply couldn't move an inch."

"Huh. You know what caused it?" I ran a hand through his hair, loving the silky texture under my fingers.

"Straining himself, stressing himself, a mild cold from the draft, his position at the desk, and his age."

I gaped at Dwayne as he drawled out the words. Brian cringed at the last part of Dwayne's enumeration.

"Should I take my pick? Or all the above mentioned?" I asked, reaching over to squeeze Brian's hand in reassurance.

"All of them. You need to take it easy, Mr. Kinney. I'll write down some pills for you to take and no exercise for a week or so."

"Can I fuck?" Brian caught my eye, smirking.

"I'm afraid that falls under the category of exercise. This massage should be enough to help you go home, where you'll be on bed rest." Dwayne gave me a pointed look, realizing I'd be the one in charge to keep the beast tamed.

I nodded, pinching Brian's cheek. "Guess I'm going to practice for when the baby comes…on a bigger baby," I cooed, kissing his brow. "Which reminds me. We need to think of a way to get Daphne to Vermont."

"Didn't Emmett find flights?" He raised an eyebrow.

"She won't be able to fly. Remember, she's pregnant! It's like us and Vermont are cursed."

"No shit? Well, some of us will drive." He shrugged, and then winced, closing his eyes.

"Does it hurt badly?" I hated seeing him in pain.

"Only when I breathe."

I gave him a skeptical look, but soon realized he wasn't joking.

Holy shit. It must hurt him really badly for him to admit how much it hurt. It was so unlike Brian to talk truthfully about such things.

I excused myself from the office to call Debbie and ask for two chicken soups to go. She thought we were having a romantic dinner planned. With chicken soup? It was too funny. But I didn't correct her.

Half an hour on the clock it took me to get Brian from his couch to the car. Even a slug moved faster, but I kept my jokes to myself. One of his arms was around my shoulders and with his free hand, he braced himself on every available wall, desk, door. He bit his lip so hard I was afraid he'd draw blood when I helped him inside the car. After buckling him in, without getting any protest, I slid behind the wheel and drove away.

"What are we doing here?" Brian demanded when I parked in front of the diner.

"Getting food. Don't go anywhere." I kissed his cheek, before getting out of the car.

Before I closed the door I heard him mumbling about planning to make a few rounds of the neighborhood for the kicks while he waited.

Debbie stared at me in surprise when I slumped against the counter, asking how much for the soup.

"I don't like your face, Sunshine."

"You need to talk to Mom about that," I joked.

"Something's wrong. Where's Brian? What has he done?"

I snorted at the Debbie Inquisition, as I grabbed the food from the counter. "He's fine…or getting there. How much?" I insisted.

"It's on the house." She waved me off.

When I turned to leave, she appeared at my side, grabbing my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Hold it, Sunshine."

"Thank you." I kissed her cheek, hoping that was all she wanted.

"Justin." Shit. She used my name. She meant business.

"You know Brian will castrate me, but fine. He's not well—overworked himself and has back pains."

"That man will never learn."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of him."

"Give him a hug and kiss from me."

In the car, Brian was fiddling with his phone. "Finally," he muttered.

I placed the casseroles on his lap before taking his face in my hands and giving him a wet, sloppy kiss.

"What was that for?" He protested, pushing me away, wiping the excess of spit.

"Debbie sends her love. She insisted I kiss you from her."

"I doubt she'd be that moist."

"She didn't have a special request for the kiss. I took liberty." I pinched his cheek. "Ready to be coddled?"

He shuddered. "I have terrible flashbacks from some years ago. You almost handcuffed me to the bed."

"I only decided against that idea because you had to make a dash to the toilet every few hours. No one wants to sleep in vomit."

Brian laughed, but stopped promptly. "Don't forget to stop at the pharmacy. Fuck. This is all I needed."

"Well, with a certain age…"

"If I wasn't in so much pain, I'd show you what I can still do at this certain age!"

"Promises, promises." I chuckled.

Brian's POV

For the following week, Justin kept me on bed rest. The slightest hint of leaving the bed for anything else other than the bathroom, he'd get all bossy and snappy. Any other time I'd have found it hot, but it was driving me crazy. Not in a good way, too.

Between the pills and Dwayne's daily visits, including Justin's attempts to massage me; which didn't compare at all to what Dwayne did, but I didn't have the heart to tell him no, my pain let up.

This morning I'd adventured to the kitchen—or tried to, because I barely reached the door of our bedroom when I found myself calling for Justin. He rushed upstairs, eyes narrowing.

"Get back in bed!" he'd demanded.

"I'm sick of that bed. I want to have my coffee in the kitchen."

A small glaring contest later, he helped me down the stairs. Thankfully, we drank the coffee on the couch when I could lean back, ignoring the shots of pain coming from my lower back muscles.

I was grateful when Dwayne appeared for my eleven o'clock appointment. With his help, I returned to the bedroom—a place I started to hate.

Justin spent most of the day in the attic, where he'd installed his art. He only emerged to bring me food a few hours ago, saying he had to return to his painting while the sun was still shining and he was inspired.

I bided my time on my laptop. Working from home was never my favorite past-time activity. At the moment, the cat was the only thing making me feel better. I never believed that cats could heal people or make them feel better. Since my backache started, she never left my side, staying curled on my lap, or my chest, depending on my position in bed.

After Dwayne's last session, this morning, I felt close to no pain, which made me brave enough in the late evening, to go in search of Justin.

As always, the cat jumped off me, before trotting out of the room as if she hadn't been a real help. It reminded me a lot of myself—doing something good for someone else but not assuming the action.

She hadn't been something planned, because everyone knew pets and I didn't mix. But then one day she somehow ended up on the windowsill of my window at Kinnetik. It was quite high, and I still have no idea how she climbed there. The thing is she kept mewling until I stormed out of my office, went outside and with Theodore's help I pulled her down. When he put her in my arms, I was ready to freak at the hair and the idea of having something small and alive curled in the crook of my arm. But something happened. She mewled softly, rubbing her head on my expensive suit, starting to purr, and I knew I couldn't let her go.

All my friends decided getting the cat was a definite sign of me going crazy, but I didn't care.

I made my way carefully to the attic, pleased when my back didn't hurt. The cat was already curled on the only ray of light entering the room, making me smile. My attention was quickly diverted to Justin.

He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his ass, accentuating what was hidden underneath. That bubble butt of his would be the death of me. The hand holding the brush was flying over the canvas while the other held a painting pallet smattered in a variety of crazy colors. I couldn't see what he was painting, and I knew I'd be in deep shit for seeing it before he finished.

I stifled a chuckle as he scratched his blond hair, leaving a streak of blue on his strands.

"Go away, Cupcake. Not now," he muttered, not turning to me.

It made me laugh harder. He thought I was the dog.

"Aw, why grouchy, dear?" I walked closer wrapping my arms around him.

Justin jumped, tensing up. "Fuck, Brian. Why aren't you in bed?" He turned around.

"Not that entertaining without you there." I fingered his blue hair.

"Well, go back. I'll join you as soon as I figure out what to do with my painting."

After a quick glance over his shoulder at the abstract art work, I found his eyes searching my face. "I was thinking of changing my quarters. Do you want to watch a movie?" I was desperate to leave the bedroom.

"Sure. Just don't…strain yourself," he said softly, cupping my cheek. I could feel something wet on my skin, but it didn't matter. The disadvantages of living with a painter were dirty clothes and stains on everything. "Oh, oops." Justin extracted a handkerchief from his pocket and after spitting on it, he started scrubbing at my face.

I had no idea what surprised me the most—the fact that he possessed a cloth handkerchief or that he used it in a way only Debbie would when Michael had his face covered in ice cream when we were younger.

"Sunshine, what the fuck are you doing?"

He froze mid-scrubbing. "Shit. Sorry." He dropped his hand. "I fucking hated when Mom used to do that. I can't believe…"

I laughed. "Don't worry, but next time you decide to pass your saliva on me it better be covering my cock."

He chuckled nervously, pushing me gently to the door. "Go now. Be careful, okay?"

"You're making me feel old," I complained, taking the stairs down one at a time.

"You are old!" he called sweetly after me.

"Twat," I muttered.

As I reached the kitchen, an accomplishment it only took me about ten minutes, Justin breezed past me, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. He grinned at me before drinking.

I scowled. My small victory of walking on my own from the attic to the kitchen in ten minutes was stomped on by the young twink in-mate.

"Why the long face? Something hurting?"

"Yeah, my pride," I grumbled, sitting in the first available stool. "Could you not skip around while I'm in pain here?"

"I thought you said you were okay." He came closer, standing between my legs. "Want me to rub your back?"

"I want to do something, anything that doesn't require going in the bedroom."

Justin threw his head back, laughing loudly. "I lived the day to hear Brian Kinney saying he wants to avoid the bedroom."

I grabbed his chin, narrowing my eyes.

"Well, in that case…" He smirked. "Are you up to—"

"Always am, Sunshine." I winked.

Justin rolled his eyes at my antics. "I was going to say if you want to go to Woody's, or maybe even Babylon?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess." Not like I could get out of the bed for the past few days, but I'd avoided talking to our friends. They didn't know any details on my sudden back injury. It was going to be mortifying admitting my age was taking a toll on me.

Justin palmed my forehead, frowning. "Do you have a fever or something? This back pain affected your brain."

"I grew up, remember?"

"Oh, right." He placed his hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eye. I was going to get a lecture à la Justin. "That's bullshit. Going out isn't off limits after a specific age."

"Yeah, because no one looks at bears, unless they're into that."

"By asking if you wanted to go out, I meant to go together, as a COUPLE!" He spat the word. "And I'd be offended if you danced with anyone else, let alone take them to the Backroom."

"I was joking, Justin," I explained.

"I hope so." He pecked my lips.

"That means we're going?" I looked at him hopeful. I missed going out with him, and I needed the distraction.

"Woody's?"

I nodded, wrapping my arms around him, palming his ass. Damn, if I was sure my back wouldn't burst in flames at the first strenuous activity, I'd take him right there, against the table.

oOo

Woody's was as packed as ever on a Saturday evening.

As we stepped inside, Justin fisted my shirt at the small of my back. I knew it was his silent way of telling me he was there.

I could tell my back pain had freaked him out, and it was my first time out and about since the faithful day.

Wrapping my arm around his waist, I walked to our friends, but Justin slipped away to get us drinks.

Emmett was the first to spot us. "Lookie who decided to join the outside world!"

I scowled, carefully sitting on a chair next to Mikey, and stealing his beer.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired immediately.

Rejecting his calls had been my favorite distraction while I was on bed rest.

"I'm still breathing. It was nothing." And so the fun began, dodging the questions.

Justin snorted, appearing at my side with two beers. He sat on my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. For unknown reasons, I didn't push him away. Instead, I pulled him closer, nuzzling that spot behind his ear. He sucked in a breath, making me smile. Two could play a game.

"I know what back pain is," Theodore said seriously. "Being unable to move an inch, or see anything else besides the ceiling of your bedroom can get old fast."

I gave him a tight smile, not ready to admit he was right.

"Old being the key word," Justin whispered in my ear, giggling.

"What exactly happened, anyway?" Mikey demanded.

"Oh, you know Brian…we tried something new in bed." Justin absolved himself of all the being old teasing by taking my side so gracefully.

I turned his head to me, kissing him deeply, gripping tightly at his hair.

"Well, you know you're not a young stud anymore," Emmett reminded me in his airy fashion.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I was sick and tired of these grandpa jokes. "I can still have anyone in this bar." When Justin stiffened in my arms, I added quickly, "Not that I'd do anything. I want to make my point."

"You're on. I bet you twenty, you lost your touch." Emmett placed the bill on the table, smirking at me.

"Let me up, Sunshine. I'm going to school young Honeycutt in the art of seducing—no matter the age you are." I gave him a pointed look.

Standing, I looked around the room and spotted my prey. He was at the pool table looking abandoned by his friends.

"Watch and learn." I winked, making my way to the pool table.

The young man was arranging the balls, preparing to play alone. I stopped behind him, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. I could have used any of my pick-up lines, but I couldn't go through with all the promises, and I never lie. So I went with an easy, slightly inoffensive one.

"Need a partner?"

He glanced over his shoulder, smiling nervously. I knew the moment he recognized me—his eyes widened and he swallowed hard.

"Sure. Do you…do you want to break?" He handed me a cue stick.

"Always." I smirked, pushing him out of my way.

I should have thought my move through, so when I bent over the table, I would have realized my back wasn't up for such a gesture. Pain shot through my lower back making me grasp at the end of the table.

"Fuck," I hissed, grabbing my back.

My prey said something about not being into grandpas before hightailing it from there.

I'm in pain, asshole! I glared after him, trying to straighten up.

A pair of arms wrapped around me. "You said you were feeling better." Justin sounded accusatory, but worried.

"I was."

"I can see that, Brian. Come on. I'm taking you home."

"Don't treat me like a child."

"Stop acting like one!" Justin pushed me against the pool table.

"Uh, guys?" Mikey called from our table.

It was then I realized the silence in the bar. Not ready to admit defeat, I took Justin back to our friends, glaring at anyone who dared look at me the wrong way. It was none of their business what was going on with me.

I was surprised Emmett didn't squeal he'd won, but then I noticed the pitiful look in Theodore's eyes, the curious and amused look on Ben, the worried look on Mikey.

"Quit it," I muttered to them.

Emmett managed to break the awkward moment by calling me a drama queen, always being in the center of attention.

"It's my natural good looks." I winked at Justin when he groaned loudly. "Though, they do me no good when I can barely move."

The night went on smoothly with the usual lame jokes and many shots of JB. I only had one glass because I was still taking meds. Around midnight, most of the crowd started leaving for Babylon. I was proud of my baby still bringing as many clients as ever. And even though any other day I'd be there supervising them, lately I hadn't found that urge to join in the thumpa-thumpa.

"We're going home," I announced loudly.

Justin stopped putting his jacket on, one arm in the sleeve, one out. "You said your back stopped hurting."

"I'm better, yes. I don't want to take any chances. That's all. Besides, I want to go home and be alone with you."

"That's so sweet!" Emmett gushed.

Justin cringed, probably thinking I wanted to go over table seating, flowers or anything wedding related. Being unable to do much, I'd engrossed myself in the wedding preparations.

"Next time you come over to discuss the wedding, Brian's your guy." Justin patted my shoulder, smiling tightly at Emmett.

"That's wonderful, Brian! As I always say, the groom has a very important role in organizing the wedding, not only appearing at the ceremony in that penguin suit and saying 'I do'."

"Excuse me!" Justin growled, shrugging his jacket on, straightening it and glaring at Emmett. "We've been over this. Several times. I am the groom, too! And I'll be wearing said penguin suit, too."

"Easy with the claws, Sunshine," I whispered, placing my hand on the back of his neck. "Look at Mikey, accepting his role with dignity."

"For that one, you'll be screaming in pain and I won't rub your back!"

"Could be worse. You could withhold sex."

He raised an eyebrow at me in challenge.

"You'll come begging," I said seriously.

"Wanna bet?" Justin dared me.

I shrugged. "There's always the Backroom of Babylon."

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I would. I'm a man—a gay man. I need sex in my life. I don't know about you, but I won't be held responsible for my actions if you deny me your bubble butt."

Emmett wrapped his arms around our necks. "Now, now."

"Can you discuss Sunshine's behind at home? Privately," Theodore begged.

"Yeah, we don't want to hear about that," Mikey added, scowling.

Sometimes, I wondered how Zen Ben could accept that his wife was in love with another man as well. It was the truth, I loved Michael, but my feelings for him didn't come anywhere near as much as I loved Justin. Even when he irked the hell out of me, like at the moment.

We slowly migrated outside Woody's ready to say goodbye.

Emmett heaved a sighed, wrapping an arm around Theodore. "I guess the married, or soon-to-be married couples prefer to cuddle in front of the fireplace. It's just you and me, Ted."

"Actually," Theodore said quietly, slipping away from Emmett. "Blake's plane probably landed. He's back from the meeting he had in San Diego."

Emmett scowled. "More for me. So long!" He waved to us, walking in the direction of Babylon.

We split in different directions. On the way to the car, Justin pulled one of my hands from my pocket and intertwined our fingers.

"You know I didn't mean it, right? I just hate…" He leaned into me, wrapping his other hand around my arm.

"…being called the bride?" I guessed. "I understand you. It hurts your male ego."

"It does!"

"It's a joke, Justin. Really, take a leaf out of Mikey's book—"

"Stop comparing me to Michael! Why am I the wife? Because I bottom?"

"Correct." I smirked, kissing his head.

"Wrooong! You do too. To me. Seldom. But you do. And you don't see me calling you names."

"Justin…" I looked around worried someone might have overheard us.

"Oh, now you're worried about your reputation?" He laughed. "God, Brian."

"Can we talk about this at home?" I almost begged.

"Sure. Whatever you say, honey."

The car ride was tense, and all I could think of was I might have gone a notch too high with the teasing about Justin being the bride. It was a silly joke, and I planned to prove to him that I saw him like the man he was, the second we got home.

I was so happy Daphne had made peace with her parents and was staying with them. We could have the house to ourselves.

The second I parked the car, Justin was out, not looking back. He was truly upset.

I caught up with him when he was already in our bedroom.

"I'm sorry," I dragged the words out. My hand went to his hair, playing with it.

Justin froze, lifting a shaky finger and pointing to the bed.

"What?" I looked in the pointed direction and gasped. My hand fell limply to my side. "What's he chewing on?" I asked suspiciously.

"I think it's a shoe."

"One of mine, of course, because he has great taste. Not even the dog would touch your sneakers." I bumped his shoulder on the way to the bed.

Cupcake pulled away from his new chew toy and growled at me.

I raised my hands to show him I didn't want my shoe back. It would be the fifth pair gone to trash since Justin returned to me, along with his crazy puppy.

"Brian, I don't think it's a shoe," Justin said slowly, approaching the bed and placing his hands on my shoulders. "You don't happen to have any red shoes, do you?"

"Of course not!" I frowned at Cupcake.

"What's that, boy?" Justin asked gently, trying to pull away the object only to get a loud growl.

I got up, and started getting undressed. "Can you at least chew whatever you have there on the floor? I'd like my bed back."

"Brian!" Justin squeaked, making me look at him amused. "What was in that box?" He pointed to an empty shoe box poking from under the bed.

The blue box.

My eyes widened as I stared at the dog in horror.

"You fucking animal! That was my favorite dildo!" I lunged on the bed, forgetting about my upset back, which seemed to be on my side not acting up at the moment.

Cupcake jumped back, clearly startled. He abandoned his new chew toy in the process.

I picked what was left of the nine inch plastic dick with two fingers, lifting it in the air and fighting my gag reflex.

"Fuck!" I chucked it at the dog, groaning.

He wrapped himself around the dildo, going back to digging his fangs into the head, already missing parts.

Justin slapped me upside the head, before crawling to the dog. "Don't! Let go of it. Did you eat that?" He turned to me, looking scared. "You do realize he ate what's missing from the dildo, right? That's silicone."

"So?" I glared at the animal who was busy ripping through my favorite sex toy.

"Brian!" Justin moaned, turning white. "We need to take him to the vet."

"You're kidding. Fine, we go, but you explain what he ate."

He rolled his eyes, turning back to the puppy. "Come here, Cupcake. Drop that."

He got a loud growl in response and a warning bark when he reached to the dildo. I grabbed Justin's hand.

"Don't be stupid. He could bite you."

"Then what do we do? We need to take him to the vet. Why are you keeping the sex toys under the bed?"

"Oh no. Don't blame this on me. I always keep them under the bed, they're handy. And you know it. It's not my fault he decided to poke around and found my favorite dildo, claiming it as his new chew toy."

"We can buy another one. Cupcake is more important. Here, boy. Come here." Justin patted his thigh.

Cupcake stopped chewing, watching Justin for a few moments, head cocked to the side then resumed chewing.

"This is useless," I mumbled.

What felt like hours later, Justin managed to pull the dog away from the dildo long enough for me to chuck the chewed sex toy to the bathroom before we went to the car. It was after midnight, and there was only one clinic opened at that hour.

I'd needed it last year at some point when the cat was sick.

As we stepped into the clinic, Justin watched me worried. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I'm sure lots of dogs do this. The doctor will take care of him."

When said doctor appeared behind the counter, I suppressed a groan. It had to be the same guy I fucked last year, didn't it? He recognized me too, but Justin was already babbling about Cupcake.

Dr. Wilson led the way to a room to examine the puppy, while Justin kept talking. I knew by now he talked so much when he was nervous.

"It's going to be okay," I whispered, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.

"You think?" His tired, scared blue eyes looked at me, searching an honest answer.

"I hope so."

"What exactly happened? Can one of you hold him down?" Dr. Wilson nodded to the table in the middle of the room.

Justin walked there, putting Cupcake down and rubbing his back soothingly. The puppy had calmed minutely, probably realizing this was the place with needles. He'd hated all his vet visits so far.

"Well, what happened is that beast decided to get a taste of fake dick," I muttered.

Justin narrowed his eyes at me, but kept stroking Cupcake gently.

At the doctor's confused look, he explained. "Cupcake chewed on a dildo. I think he ate some of it too. I couldn't see the missing parts on the bed."

"Huh. Dogs do all kinds of crazy things. We need to scan his stomach and see if he ingested any of it."

"But he'll be okay, right, doc?" Justin asked almost pleadingly.

"I'll give him pills to eliminate the unfamiliar object he ingested. He should be fine, but he needs supervision over the next few days. Anything unfamiliar let me know."

"Unfamiliar object?" I snorted. "He got up close and personal with my favorite toy. He's very familiar with it."

"Brian, not now."

I stayed aside while Justin helped Dr. Wilson examine Cupcake, holding him and shushing him when he started whining after being stung by the needle. Looking at them, I reflected over our night. Maybe Cupcake finding a new chew toy saved us from a fight.

It was near three o'clock when we returned home from the clinic. Justin had Cupcake in a blanket, dozing off in the passenger's seat. I didn't want to think of Cupcake as his and the cat as mine, they were both ours, but I couldn't feel much love toward that dog when he ruined my favorite toy. And it had been so fucking expensive.

When we stepped inside, and Justin went as far as to put the dog in the guest bedroom to be comfortable, I made a mental note to buy lots of dog toys in the morning. Maybe that way he wouldn't go snooping at my toys.

Justin's POV

One month before the wedding, we decided to have the ceremony in the backyard at Britin. It would be a lot cheaper and Daphne wouldn't feel like we were changing plans because of her. Ever since she'd mentioned she couldn't fly, Brian and I had been thinking of alternatives.

We found the best one the other night when insomnia kept both of us awake. We'd also concluded that we had to stay away from Vermont because it was cursed. That state and us didn't mix. At all.

Of what I knew, Emmett hadn't done anything concrete with his friend from the cabana in Vermont, which meant we were safe to change plans.

To announce to everyone the change of plans, we invited them over on a warm Saturday in late May. If we'd had this genius idea last week, we could have killed two birds with one stone since we celebrated Brian's birthday last weekend. No one made a big deal of out of it, but as Michael had joked, next year would be fun since he was turning another dreadful milestone—forty.

On his birthday, which had been on a Wednesday, I decided to do something nice. I worked really hard on cooking oysters and lobster. I had no idea why I complicated my life so much, but it wasn't every day when my fiancé turned thirty-nine, and I knew how he felt about his age. Might as well grow old in style and experience the delicacies in life.

After nearly setting the kitchen on fire while preparing the sauce for the lobster, I should have realized nothing was going to work the way I wanted.

It was warm outside for the middle of May so I spread a blanket in the backyard, carried plates, silverware and glasses then decided to shoot Brian an email. I knew he checked his computer more frequently than his phone.

To: Brian Kinney

From: Justin Taylor

Subject: bday boy

Hello dear,

I hope you're having a great day! *insert big Sunshine smile*

I have a special surprise for you at home.

Are you coming any time soon?

Love, Justin

His reply came two minutes later.

To: Justin Taylor

From: Brian Kinney

Subject: RE: bday boy

Sunshine, I'm in over my head. I have no idea when I'll get home.

What other surprise? Wasn't that silk tie enough? And the blow job. We can't forget the blow job.

Brian Kinney

CEO Kinnetik

To: Brian Kinney

From: Justin Taylor

Subject: RE: RE: bday boy

Oh. It was nothing…

See you when you get home.

Don't stay too long. The 3 o'clock rule still stands.

Love you.

I sulked until around midnight. I was busy pulling my pillow out of Cupcake's teeth when I heard Brian walking slowly upstairs. Cupcake forgot about our mini war and rushed out, barking loudly.

"Shh! Don't wake… Justin." Brian appeared in the doorway, smiling at me sheepishly.

"Home early, I see. Three hours to spare until curfew," I joked, walking to him.

"I won't bore you with my shitty day." He dipped his head to kiss me. "Mhmm. Now it's all better."

"Hungry?" I whispered against his lips, threading my fingers through his hair.

"Mhmm. For you?"

"For food, silly man." A sense of dread filled me. "You didn't…eat, did you?"

"I had a slice of pizza around noon, I think. And that's because Cynthia reminded me it was nice to offer food on my birthday."

"You ate pizza?" I tried not to laugh.

"I know. I had one slice and it only had cheese and tomatoes."

"I see. Well, I have healthy food prepared for you."

"Your other surprise?" He smirked.

"Yes, the dinner." His face fell comically. "What, were you expecting some trick to join us?" I hoped that wasn't the case.

Brian snorted, cupping my cheek. "You made dinner for me. Why didn't you say so?"

"It wouldn't have been a surprise otherwise." Good to know he wasn't thinking of tricks.

"Oh, well. I can break my rule on no carbs after 7 for once. It's not my birthday every day. What did you cook?" He was already walking us down the stairs and to the kitchen, his arms around me.

"I planned on having dinner outside…but since it's night…" I shrugged.

"Dinner under the stars? How awfully romantic."

"Brian, can you be cooperative?"

"I am." He grinned. "I'm not saying no to dinner outside."

We carried the thankfully still warm dishes outside, and after a second trip to the kitchen, I brought out a bottle of white wine.

Brian was sprawled on the blanket, smoking, puffing small circles in the air.

"You know…" He said after a long time, while I plated the food. I knew he always needed time to talk when he was ready.

"What?" I glanced at him, bringing a piece of lobster to his lips.

He eyed it warily, and I nudged his lips with my fingers. Obediently, he opened his mouth and made a show of taking the food from my hand, wrapping his tongue around my fingers.

I stared at him as he chewed, then his eyes opened. "Lobster?"

Of course he was familiar with it. "Did I cook it right?"

"I think so." He laughed. "Let me try more." Moving so he was leaning on his elbow, he started picking at the food. His eyes landed on the oysters. "You don't need food to get me in the mood."

I leaned closer to peck his mouth. "I had no idea…you know…getting older and all that," I teased.

His eyes narrowed.

"But you don't need any aphrodisiac. You're right. You're always horny."

He laughed, rolling on his back again to finish his cigarette. "Remember when you stole Theodore's Viagra?"

"Worst mistake of my life. My ass hated me for days."

"You weren't complaining at the time." Brian winked, smashing the butt of his smoke on the edge of a plate. "Anyway, you know how you always have certain expectations of some day…like you have it planned out in a way and when it actually comes…it's anything like what you imagined."

"So you had a bad day?" I asked casually, deep down feeling sorry for him. No one was supposed to have a horrible time on their birthday.

"Besides the amazing morning you gave me." He turned to wink. "My day was shitty. I made the mistake to stop by the diner at Debbie's insistences." Cringing, Brian lit himself another cigarette. Not surprised, I realized it was pot. I decided to let it slide. He needed it. "Thankfully, no one jumped out screaming 'Happy Birthday' but she made a show of leaning over the counter and hugging me. I'm not exactly a hugger."

I chuckled, shifting so I was lying on the blanket with my head on his chest. "You so are! You like to cuddle. Who would have thought?"

"That's confidential, and if it ever leaves our inner circle, I'll have you murdered."

"Our inner circle? Are we four year olds, Brian?"

"Don't you want to hear about my day? I thought that's what most couples did at the end of the day. They talked about their day."

"Sure. Go on. We're not most couples," I added under my breath.

"We can skip the boring day I had and get to fucking."

"Keep talking," I encouraged him, knowing once he was started, he had to finish.

"Okay, so after Debbie finished hugging me and giving me coffee—"

"Which you didn't drink, I hope. We talked about diminishing the number, Brian. I want you around for a long time."

"I can't say no to coffee. Then, when I was about to leave…"

"You ran into Michael, I know. We talked, because I bailed on him. We had to work on Rage, but I wanted to finish my painting. So I stayed home."

"Yeah, and he was the one screaming the dreaded words, hugging and kissing me in front of the whole diner. I wanted to split his head open."

"Why didn't you? It would have spared my ears bleeding when he lashed out at me for being irresponsible."

"He said that?" Brian lifted his head to frown at me. "Asshole."

"Well, he's right. I kept promising to meet and work on Rage, but every time something came up."

"Anyway, after I disentangled from him, I went to work. Cynthia and Theodore were waiting in my office, and I expected bad news, but they pointed to my desk. They were even afraid to show me they got me a small cupcake with a candle in it."

"That's sweet. They're sweet." I nodded, stealing the blunt from him.

"Sometimes. That was the highlight of my day at work, because not an hour later, Fred came to me sheepishly to say there was a problem. I hate hearing those words."

"Fred? From the Art Department?"

"Who else? We're in permanent conflict, which reminds me he's been with me for too long. They never last more than three months, he's somehow made it to five months."

"That means he's good at what he's doing, even though he fucks up sometimes."

"Not when we needed the storyboards for tomorrow, Sunshine."

"The heart pills?" I asked, unsure which campaign he was talking about. He had at least three running at the same time. No wonder he was always tired.

"No, the toys…the teddy bears. Which currently have red eyes and look like something ripped from a kid's nightmare not something meant to put them to sleep."

"You'll figure something out. You always do," I assured him, turning my head to kiss him.

"Artists and I simply don't mix."

"Excuse me. What the fuck am I?"

"You're an exception." He laughed, crushing me to his chest.

"And Lindsay?"

"Fine, I see where you're going. Artists who are my employees and I don't mix. Better?"

"I think so. What else happened?"

"Wasn't my ruined storyboards enough for your little sadistic soul?"

I sat up, choking on the smoke I just inhaled. "Little sadistic soul? That's a new one. And so fucking funny."

"Glad to know I can amuse you."

oOo

On the last Saturday of the month, I was the first up. I hadn't slept much since Daphne decided to spend the night and catch up, and when I made it to bed I managed to wake Brian who was in a playful mood.

After letting Cupcake out, I prepared the strongest coffee I could, yawning in my hand. All I could think of was everyone's reactions to our news. They'd be relieved hopefully, not having to travel to Vermont for a wedding that could take place anywhere.

With the money we saved from the trip, we could do something more nicely for the ceremony—buy different and more flowers, or change Brian's tux. Every time we visited the tailor, he had to complain about something regarding his tux. The same went with Daphne, but she had a sound reason—her dress got tighter with the small bump now present. I wasn't allowed very often to touch it because the initial excitement of carrying my baby had vanished with the appearance of morning sickness.

Daphne chose that moment to stumble into the kitchen, scowling at me. It seemed to be her favorite reaction to me.

"Do you want some tea?" I offered, hating seeing her sick.

"I'm going to throw it up in a few." She slumped at the table, putting her head on her folded arms.

"You can't throw up tea!" I retorted.

"Wanna see?"

I sighed, sitting next to her with my mug of coffee. "Then what do you want? Anything."

"I want to get over this morning sickness! God, Justin, it's like you poisoned me. I talked to both Linz and Mel. They weren't so sick when they were pregnant."

"You heard the doctor. Each body reacts differently."

She reached for my hand, smiling weakly. "I don't want to be such a bitch, but barfing all the time isn't fun."

"I can attest to that." Brian appeared in the doorway.

He had the worst case of bed hair I'd ever seen on him all my life. I took part of the blame for running my hands through it half of the night, though.

He walked to me, tying his silky robe. When he reached me, he bent and kissed me deeply, humming, before lifting his head and smiling at Daphne. "Good morning."

I was reduced to a pile of goo on the floor.

Daphne burst out laughing. "What happened to your hair?"

Brian stole my coffee. "Ask Sunshine. He played with it the whole night." He gestured to me with the mug making the liquid slosh out and spill on me.

"Watch out!" I jumped to my feet, peeling the soiled shirt off.

Brian watched me surprised, before joining Daphne in laughter. "Payback for all the times you spilled your drink on me at Babylon or Woody's."

"That was years ago, and it happened ONE time. Don't mistake me with Emmett," I grumbled.

"Ah, don't mention him. He's going to flip when he hears about the change."

I pulled him closer, by the robe's tie. "It's our wedding. We can have it anywhere."

Brian smiled, kissing me.

"Think you can have it on the moon?" Daphne broke our moment.

"You can't fly," I said as seriously as possible.

"Bummer."

oOo

The first to arrive were Mel and Linz who were staying for the whole weekend. They couldn't make it on Brian's birthday, so he shouldn't have been surprised when Gus rushed to him with a large present box, nicely wrapped. The pretext of inviting them over was Brian missing Gus, not like it wasn't true.

"What have you got there, Sonny Boy?"

"It's for you, Dad. Your present."

Brian glanced to Mel and Linz suspiciously before taking the box carefully.

"Go on. Open it," Gus insisted, rocking on his feet.

"I hope it's something decent in there," I whispered to Lindsay.

"It's decent, but he might try to kill both of us."

"Me too?" I grimaced.

"No, Mel and I."

"Oh, good." I sighed in relief. At her amused look, I grinned back. "What? Better you than me."

Slowly, as if the contents of the box were going to jump out and bite him, Brian unwrapped his present. On a white cloth were two cans of Brian's favorite beer and a small bottle of Beam. That truly was a decent present coming from our favorite girls.

Brian smiled at them, a true smile, something he rarely showed others. "Thank you, Linz, Mel. It's beautiful."

"There's more, Dad. I picked it for you." Gus pointed to the white thing I mistook as a cloth. It was actually a shirt, as I realized when he pulled it out. He shook it a few times to unfold it, showing the writing on the t-shirt. "Like it?"

The look of horror on Brian's face told me he didn't like it, but he managed a grimace. "You picked it up yourself?" he managed to ask.

"Yes. Mommy told me you might not like it," Gus added quietly, glancing at Lindsay. "But I knew you'd like it. Look at the back of it, too."

"Beautiful, Gus." Brian pulled his son in a hug, raising an eyebrow at Lindsay, over his shoulder. She shrugged, shaking her head.

The curiosity was too much. I walked to them. "Can you show me the present too?"

Brian gave me a tight smile, handing me the shirt before taking Gus away, probably to the entertainment room. I wasn't exactly a fan of his silly games in there, so Gus was his perfect companion for playing the Wii games.

I looked at the shirt in my hands and burst out laughing.

On the front it said: I AM AN OLD FART. GET OVER IT.

On the back it said: OLD MEN FART. IN THEIR SLEEP.

I couldn't stop laughing. My sides started hurting, but it was too much.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I love Gus?" I turned to Lindsay.

"I was pro buying the shirt," Mel offered with a smile.

Lindsay shook her head. "At least the alcohol should keep him from getting too upset over the shirt. Though, coming from Gus, he can't hate the gift."

Between chuckles, I managed to sputter out. "I can imagine him in this shirt, drinking JB and watching TV."

Daphne joined us in the living room, curious what the ruckus was about. At least, she was feeling better.

In the early afternoon, the rest of the family started appearing, one by one—Michael and Ben with Hunter, Debbie, Ted and Blake, Emmett, and Mom with Molly, along with Tuck too. I wondered if I'd ever warm up to him. He was a few years older than me, so I hoped I'd never have to call him anything other than Tuck.

We ordered pizza when I realized I'd forgotten to defrost my chicken last night. All thanks to Daphne distracting me.

The delivery boy didn't get lost for once, and after tipping him hefty for that, Brian and I took the stacks of pizza to the kitchen, to sort them out.

My hand started shaking as I slapped yet another Salami post-it note to a box.

"It will be okay." Brian took me in his arms. "They should be happy we're not dragging them out of the state anymore."

"I guess, but I expect some will be shocked. Let's get over with it."

We carried the boxes into the spacious living room, setting them on the coffee table. Then we stood by the fireplace, looking at our family and friends. Brian kept an arm around me as I leaned into his side.

"This scene looks oddly familiar," Debbie acknowledged, her eyes filled with worry.

Of course, they thought of the worst.

"Yes, I have a strong sense of déjà vu," Emmett agreed. "And if you're going to say what I think you want to say, let me say something first." He held his finger up as if to make a point.

"No need," Brian cut him off, smiling. "The wedding's not off."

"Though, there's been a small change. Itsy bitsy." I grinned at them.

"Yes. We decided to move the venue to our backyard." Brian beamed at our guests.

No one seemed to share our enthusiasm.

"Hold me, Teddy. I'm going to faint." Emmett made a show of falling backwards, in Ted's arms. It would have been funny if anyone besides me was laughing.

"That's all?" Mom asked, as if checking whether there was any other news.

Brian nodded, squeezing my shoulder. "That's all, Jennifer. Doing it in the backyard saves us money. We have the baby coming, but until then we have the honeymoon."

I turned to gape at him. "We said no honeymoon." I'd specifically told him to drop it. I didn't need a honeymoon.

"You did, Sunshine. I never agreed to such a thing. If we're doing this lesbianic act, we might as well do it thoroughly."

"Where?" I tried not to smile at the idea of Brian working on this secret project, and failed. It proved how much he loved me.

"It's a surprise," he explained, kissing me quickly.

Emmett regained his sense, suddenly standing and holding his hands out, motioning for everyone to quiet down. "What do you mean you're changing the location? One month before the wedding?" He seemed relatively calm.

"Is there a problem? We didn't actually have anything set in stone there, right?" I asked, wondering what the big deal was.

"Is there a problem, he asks." Emmett stared in horror at me. "No. No problem at all, sweetie. What the hell did we talk about for the past three months, Justin? Everything is prepared for Vermont!" He exploded, making me jump.

"Cancel it, then," Brian said coolly. "Whatever the cost. We're doing it in the backyard."

Emmett glared at him, hands on his hips. "It's easy for you to say! What about me? My reputation! I'm so mad at you two right now…I'm going home." He stormed to the door, but stopped in the hallway, turning to us. "I hope it rains buckets." Then he was gone.

"Drama queeeen!" Brian shouted after him, but I could tell he was tense. He was just as worried as me.

"He's right, you know?" Debbie found her voice. "You should have thought of everything before deciding to do it out of state."

"At the time we chose Vermont because it was legal there for same-sex couples to marry, but then we decided it didn't matter. It still won't be legal in Pennsylvania, so why have everyone travel to Vermont when they could drive half an hour to get to the location?" I grinned, proud of my thinking.

The conversation flowed, from our spur decision to marry in the backyard to daily life. While Molly was talking with overflowing interest in attending Prom in a few years, because it looked really exciting, I got up, excusing myself to call Emmett. I had to apologize.

He answered rather fast, which meant he wasn't really upset.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out.

"You should be. Now get your ass to the stables."

My heart did a little jump. "You're still here?"

"Where would I go? Are you coming?"

"Give me five."

Returning to the living room, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. Our nearest and dearest were spread around the room, talking, eating and laughing. To my surprise, Brian was with the kids, playing cards.

I had to check him for a fever. Making a beeline to him, I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind, leaning over his to kiss his temple. He smiled that special soft smile, reserved only for me.

"Join me, Sunshine. I'm outsmarted by brats."

"You're fine." I pointed to the stash of candy in front of him.

"I haven't played cards in years. I'm rusty."

I laughed, kissing his cheek. "Emmett's still here. He's at the stables. I'm going to him."

"Oh. I should have known he didn't leave. Take pizza with you, and apples for the horses." He nudged my cheek before stealing a kiss and pushing me away so he could go back to his game of cards.

oOo

Emmett was lounging on the hay in front of the stables.

I made sure to stay away from the dried grass. Allergy medicine or not, I was still wary around things that set off my reactions. I had no idea I was allergic to hay until I moved in here with Brian. After sneezing for the umpteenth time and wiping tears, scratching every available skin on my body, I decided it was safe to let Brian handle the hay while I went in search of my Claritin.

"Pizza?" I held the box out, smiling at Emmett.

He pretended not to hear me, lying there with his arms behind his head, staring at the sky. "I always wanted to fuck in hay."

"Who didn't?" I grumbled, slouching lower against the other door of the stables.

"Oh, so you haven't tried it yet? Afraid you'll get something more than cock up your ass?" He laughed, glancing at me.

"Actually, I prefer to enjoy my fucking, without getting itchy or sick."

"Is there anything you aren't allergic to?" He raised an eyebrow, fighting off a smile.

I grinned. "Brian."

We burst out laughing.

"Seriously, I'm sorry for earlier," I added quietly, once we calmed down.

"A little heads up would have been nice."

"Next time." I winked.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time. You're marrying just once. Besides, I have to admit." He looked around, smiling. "This location is superb."

We sat there in front of the stables, eating pizza and discussing new ideas for the wedding.

"You need to work on the new seating arrangements, and decide how you want the aisle, and especially the place you want it installed."

"Maybe at the gazebo?" I suggested, nodding in its direction.

"I can work with that. Anything in particular you might like?"

I shrugged. "You're the expert, Em."

"I found the other day my old notes for your wedding. Are pigeons still a no-go?"

I gaped at him, because I couldn't believe he kept the notes for the last time we tried getting married.

"Definitely. Unless you want them to poop on our guests." Brian joined us. He crouched next to me, smirking.

"But they're romantic," Emmett protested.

"Emmett, no birds. Now, can I have my fiancé back?"

"He'll all yours. But with this change, we'll have to meet more often so I can change everything!" His voice rose so high it got borderline hysteric.

"We'll meet next week at the diner," I pacified him.

As he walked toward the house, Brian pulled me inside the stable. We stopped next to Schwarz—my beautiful horse. I still couldn't believe I had a horse.

People don't buy people horses, but then again Brian isn't anyone. It shouldn't have surprised me when he introduced me to the two most beautiful horses in the world.

His horse was a female—Gray Lady, and she was probably the only female and only pet he loved. I'd seen him with his cat, with Cupcake, but he was never so attentive and affectionate to them. He'd told me a long time ago: the first time he brought me to see the house, that he always wanted a horse.

While Schwarz was all black, which was what his name meant in German, Gray Lady was a light gray. I'd made the mistake to point out she needed a bath the first time I met her. It triggered bad reactions from both her and Brian. How could I know the dark gray parts were actually her fur, and not dirt? When I tried feeding her, she nearly bit my hand off, and only recently became friendly, but I was still wary around her.

Brian's POV

Being alone with Justin in the stables always made me horny. There was something about him and the horses and that domestic feeling. It made me forget everything, even the fact we had guests waiting for us. Seeing him feeding Schwarz and stroking between his eyes was all I could take.

I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, dragging him to the last stall. We kept shovels, forks and buckets in there, but it had enough room.

He laughed when I pushed my pants down. "Suck me." I pushed against his shoulder so he'd kneel.

"Is that all you want?" Justin teased, fisting my dick, stroking slowly, still not kneeling.

"You know I want more, but sadly we don't have anything handy…" We had to put supplies in the stables too.

He rolled his eyes. "At the rate we're going at it, you don't need to stretch me." He dropped to his knees, licking the length of my dick a few times.

I stared at him in shock, not sure where this conversation was going.

"Since we're getting married…and you haven't tricked in ages…what do you say… Holy shit!" Justin pulled away, staring at me in disbelief. As he'd spoken, he kept licking and rubbing me. His words and actions were too much—I exploded on his face like some teenager with zero experience.

I might have said the last part aloud, because Justin burst out laughing. "Good thing we don't have any duvets in here." His Sunshine smile stretched on his face, my cum dripping from his chin. What a beautiful sight.

I snorted, pulling him up and kissing him thoroughly, before licking him clean.

"Maybe we should join the others. They'll think we're up to no good," Justin said in between kisses.

"What about you?" I cupped him through his loose sweatpants.

"You'll make up for that later tonight."

When we returned to the living room, my hand holding Justin's and laughing over the dog chewing on one of our guests' shoes, in the hallway, everyone stopped talking and stared.

"It's rude to sneak out for a quickie when you have guests over," Debbie chided us lightly.

Michael shook his head, amused. "I don't even know why you're getting married. You're in a perpetual honeymoon stage since you met."

I shared a confused look with Justin, who was trying not to burst out laughing. "Who has brown Converse? They're Cupcake's new toy," he sputtered out.

Blake winced, rushing to the hallway.

"Better the shoe than my favorite dildo," I whispered in Justin's ear. That made him laugh, and I was glad everyone looked at us as if we were crazy. They shouldn't know our inside jokes.

Having our friends over turned into a fun, relaxing evening. I never thought I'd enjoy spending a Saturday this way—chatting with my dear friends, my family actually, watching my son playing with his sister in the corner of the room, while holding the love of my life in my arms in front of the fireplace. It was awfully romantic, and cozy, and domestic—everything I used to avoid religiously.

The firsts to disrupt the pleasant time we were having, were Theodore and Blake, claiming they were tired. As we walked them out, somehow, the others followed, finding excuses to leave. If we were alone, I'd have been happy, but I knew the munchers were staying which limited our fun.

"We need to meet next week to look over everything and make changes," Emmett told me, though I barely paid attention to him.

I couldn't take my eyes off Justin hugging his sister and mother, telling them goodbye. He even shook Tuck's hand, warning him to drive carefully.

"Are you listening to me?" Emmett demanded, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.

"We'll meet next week," I confirmed.

"And what was that about the honeymoon? Do you need help? Ideas?"

"I got it covered. Don't worry." I tore my eyes from Justin to wink at my friend. "It's been on the plan for too long."

"Can I ask where you're taking him?"

"Em, you can't keep a secret."

"How you wound me, Brian! I haven't spilled your secret about the flowers. Which is really difficult since I'm discussing the wedding only with Justin!" He narrowed his eyes.

"We'll meet next week—the two of us." Checking to make sure Justin was still busy with our guests, I took Emmett away from the hallway. "Speaking of the flowers. Did you find them? Remember, it's very important. He's always wanted these golden gardenias."

"It's just as difficult as the last time. Especially when it's hard to communicate with the person. I don't do well around Asian people."

I rolled my eyes. "How difficult can it be? Want me to make the calls?"

"No. It's my job to do it. The problem is Justin keeps hinting at the lilies, orchids and roses."

"I'll tell him to leave the flower arrangements to me. I want it to be a surprise," I reminded Emmett.

"Okay. Got it. I'll have to learn Chinese. The things I do for my friends…" He shook his head.

"We appreciate the effort in putting up with us." Justin appeared from around the corner, wrapping his arms around my waist. I hoped he didn't hear our conversation. "You should go, Em, before Ted leaves without you. He's your ride, right?"

"He wouldn't! See you next week, Kinney!" Emmett rushed out, shouting at Theodore not to leave him here. As if we were the bad guys, but maybe Justin was right. We had probably driven him crazy with all the changes.

I closed the door, leaning my back against it and sighing in relief. "Alone." I grinned.

Justin stepped closer, placing his hands on my shoulders and pecking my lips. "Technically, we're anything but alone. We still have Daphne, Mel and Linz, the kids…"

"Smartass," I muttered, kissing along his jaw.

"When are we meeting with Emmett? You're joining us?"

"We aren't." His face fell. "I am. It's about time I get properly involved in our wedding."

"I don't mind doing this. It's fun. Though, I'm really busy next week. I have to meet with Greg, the owner of the gallery, and I promised Molly to take her to the mall."

"I got it covered," I promised.

As we walked to the kitchen to join the girls who took it upon themselves to clean around, I nudged Justin's side. "Shopping with your sister, but not with me?"

"It's just as bad. You two are meant to be shopping buddies."

"Sometimes I wonder how you're actually a fag."

"I don't need to spend hours in a mall to find something I like to wear, which I usually find at these small stores scattered around the city. I see what I like, go in, buy it and I'm over with it."

"We need rules for when we're married. You must own at least some designer clothes, and wear them!"

"Leave him alone, Brian. You're such a label queen," Lindsay chided me. "He's fine. A true artist never wears expensive clothes. The clothes get ruined."

Justin smiled in relief. "Thanks."

Later that night, we were in bed ready to fall asleep. Or maybe that was only Justin. He was rolled on his side facing me, breathing deeply, but I couldn't make my mind stop replaying our conversation in the stables.

I fluffed my pillow, maybe a little too harshly, in an attempt to get comfortable and hopefully able to get some sleep.

"Can you stop moving?" Justin mumbled into his pillow.

I stared at him. Only part of his face was visible. Sometimes I wondered how come he didn't asphyxiate during the night.

At the rate we're going at it, you don't need to stretch me.

I sighed loudly, rolling on my back.

Since we're getting married…and you haven't tricked in ages…what do you say…

Glancing at him, I wondered what was in his blond little head when he asked that. I thought he was over his intention of finding out what fucking raw meant. The last time he'd brought it up, he was a kid and I taught him to always wear a condom. He never questioned it afterwards.

Why now, though?

I had no one to turn to for advice on the matter.

Was this something couples did when they went down the doom road, I mean marriage. Argh.

I couldn't very well ask Mikey, because obviously he'd never done it without a condom. Or I'd personally kill both him and Zen Ben. And I highly doubted he'd done it raw with the good doctor.

Theodore and Emmett were out of the question. I could only imagine their faces. No.

Besides, I had a feeling Justin would like to discuss this with me, not a third party.

Taking a deep breath, I moved a blond lock of hair from his closed eyes. It was now or never.

He smiled a little in his drowsy state.

I blurted out the most idiotic thing ever. "You want to fuck raw?"

He opened an eye, before closing it. "I wanna sleep." A full minute passed before both eyes flew open and his mouth opened wide as he sat up, staring at me in shock. "What did you just say?"

"I asked if…" Fuck it. I couldn't repeat myself.

"I heard you. But…you never…why now? I don't get it."

"You said you wanted it. Earlier. Did you forget?"

Justin bit his lip, staring at a loose thread in the blanket, fingering it. "I don't know why I said it. You don't have to do anything about it. I say stupid things all the time."

"Is it something you want?" I raised his head with a finger under his chin.

He gave me an incredulous look. "Are we seriously having this conversation at one AM?" he asked, glancing at the clock.

I snorted. "I'm curious. It's bugging me. I can't sleep."

"God, Brian. You're unbelievable." He flopped back on the bed. "Stop worrying over nothing. Just sleep, okay?"

"It's not nothing." I rolled on top of him, pinning his arms above his head. "Do you want it or not?"

Something flashed in his eyes. Hope? Fear? Anxiety?

"Now?" Justin whispered.

I tried not to smile. "I wouldn't do it immediately. If you really want it, we need to get tested and no tricks."

"Is that last part for me or for you?" He laughed, finally relaxing under me.

"Both—a reminder."

"Well, we don't need to worry about it. The only thing on the to-do list is to get tested. We're clean, I'm sure."

"I'll schedule us an appointment in the morning."

He beamed at me, before turning his face into the pillow and laughing. Even muffled, it was too loud in the quiet house.

"Shh. Don't make me spank you." I lightly slapped his ass.

Justin faced me again, eyes shiny from laughing so hard. "I never thought we'd have this conversation."

"Yeah, me neither. As I promised—anything for you." I kissed him slowly.

Justin got a cunning smile making me almost regret my words. I only raised an eyebrow in question.

"Can I have a pony? It needs to be white." It was hard even for him to keep a straight face as he talked.

I flipped us over so he was on top of me. "I can be your pony. You can ride me whenever you want." I palmed his ass, loving the plumpness of it. I had always loved his ass—best I ever had.

"And you'll soon be white." Justin ran his fingers through my hair.

I choked, narrowing my eyes. "Or, I can be your stud?"

"Mhmmm… How can I deny such an offer?" He started shifting so he was positioned above me.

I handed him a condom from the nightstand, testing with a finger if he was still stretched from our previous round. "You can't."

Smiling, Justin rolled the condom on my dick, before lowering his ass on it.

oOo

In the morning, I woke up alone, which was unusual. Justin was the last one to roll out of the bed—always.

I made my way to the kitchen ready to have a hit of my favorite drug—caffeine.

"That was totally the best night of my life." I heard Daphne exclaim over a loud song they were listening to.

"Yours and mine," Justin confirmed, laughing. It made me curious of what they were talking about. I thought all his best nights were shared with me. "Though, it's all about the voice, riiiight?" He teased his friend.

I edged closer to the kitchen's doorway and saw them hunched over his laptop, at the table.

"At first, it's been about his voice, then him…you know? He's so fucking gorgeous!" She gushed.

Justin laughed, ruffling her hair. "And then your love for gay people made you obsess over him."

I was curious who they were talking about, but they were too cute to interrupt.

Daphne bumped her shoulder into Justin's. "I'm still hanging on his words. He said in an interview about being openly bi."

"Yeah, right. I've never seen him with a girl. If that was the case, you wouldn't like him anymore. Admit it, you wanted to go to the concert for the kiss." Justin elbowed her in the ribs.

"I admit nothing! It's always been about his voice—first and foremost," she said in a matter of fact tone. I loved her stubbornness.

She reminded me so much of myself, and how I refused to admit anything even though it was the truth.

It was time to make my presence known. I had to defend Daphne.

"Who are you talking about if I'm not interrupting?" I casually stepped into the kitchen.

Justin turned to give me a blinding smile. "Her imaginary boyfriend," he explained, taking my hand and pulling me closer.

"And who'd that be?" I spied the laptop and saw the clip they were watching. Oh, figures. Adam Lambert. "Sorry to spoil your fun, Daph, but Adam baits for our team." I hugged Sunshine close and kissed the top of his head.

She opened her mouth to retort but quickly closed it when Justin smirked at her. Then I realized what they'd said earlier about a concert.

"Wait. You went to his concert in New York?"

"Don't tell me you were there." Justin stared at me with wide eyes.

"Almost." I grinned making him roll his eyes.

"That explains a lot."

"It was supposed to be a surprise for Cynthia. She was so hooked on him, listening constantly to his songs. Sadly, the day of the concert we had a big client deal and stayed late at the office with the Art Department."

"Aww. Did she know about your surprise?" Daphne wondered.

"Yes, and we agreed to give Theodore the tickets. He and Blake were the only ones who wouldn't start talking about how they got the tickets, or gush over the concert. I didn't want Cynthia to regret it more than she already had."

"You must really like her," she said with a smile.

I shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "We've known each other for a decade. She's possibly the only woman I tolerate, and if I were straight, I'd marry her. Definitely." I couldn't believe what I just said, but it was the truth.

Daphne gasped, clutching theatrically at her heart. "I'm hurt! I thought I was your soul mate!"

I cringed. "Don't use that word."

Justin snuggled closer to me, kissing my shoulder. "Lucky me then, that you're queer, I mean."

"Twat." I kissed his forehead fondly.

Daphne offered to make me coffee so I could have a few minutes alone with my fiancé, considering any time now Gus could wake up, and then there would be no time for smooching. Her word.

oOo

On Monday, I was so tired when the alarm went off, I wanted nothing but to turn over and get more sleep.

We had spent our Sunday at Mikey's so he could see his daughter more than a few hours. It was a little after midnight when we'd returned home. Mel and Linz found amusement in leaving Michael and me to handle the kids over the day. To say they were two little devils was an understatement. I expected Gus to be a handful, because I hadn't been the model child myself, but JR? Debbie never mentioned Michael being disobedient. She definitely got that from Melanie.

Once back home, Gus demanded he wouldn't sleep without me. Justin immediately agreed, walking him to our bedroom to change him into his pajamas, while I was left placating Lindsay and confirming I didn't mind spending the night with my son.

If I'd known he was a kicker, I'd have probably thought through my decision better. I didn't need to check to know I had a dozen bruises on my back from his thrashing during the night.

The alarm stopped its annoying sound, but before I could doze off, Justin pulled me out of the bed. He was suspiciously chipper.

"A busy day awaits us!"

"I'm my own boss. I'm not going to work today," I grumbled, falling back on the edge of the bed.

"Course you are! Remember the account you've been telling me about all week? That meeting is today. Besides, you have to meet with Emmett like you promised. I'm off to the gallery, and I also need to take Molly shopping. Probably not in that order."

"Take a breather! It's too early for your long babbling speeches. All I got from your jumbled words is new account, Emmett and Molly."

"The essentials." He beamed at me, but he turned serious soon, placing his hands on my shoulders. "What's up? You didn't use to need much sleep. Is someone getting old?"

I didn't have enough energy to shout at him for commenting on my age. "Can you go bug someone else?"

"Bugging you is more fun. Now, get your old ass out of the bed!" Justin grabbed my hands and pulled.

"You're extremely cheerful for seven AM."

Justin gave me his trademark Sunshine smile. "We're getting married!" He wrapped his arms around my neck, peppering kisses all over my face.

I stared at him confused and amused. "Not for another few weeks."

"I know! It just hit me when I woke up. We're getting married and we're having a baby!"

"You know I love you, even though you're bat-shit crazy and an annoying twat."

He beamed at me, taking my face in his hands. "I love you, Brian."

I mashed our lips together, because it was the only way to make him shut up. We were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Linz looked startled.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's okay. Ready to go?" I asked.

"Yeah. After I get my child back." She walked to the bed and started shaking Gus awake. A few protests later, he was sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

I shook my finger at him when he grinned at me. "You're forbidden in our bed unless you learn not to kick."

"He didn't kick me." Justin looked confused.

"Because you took over the whole bed, and Gus got squished, so he started pushing me. One day, I'll end up sleeping on the floor with you." I pursed my lips as Justin tried not to laugh.

"Well, push me back to my side." He tried solving the problem.

"Do you think I don't try?" I snorted. "Every night I'm wrestling your dead weight."

Justin had the decency to turn pink and look away. "Sorry."

I sighed, patting his head. "Don't worry your blond little head with that. Now, shall we get a move, before I decide to crawl back in this inviting bed?"

The task of taking the Peterson-Marcus family to the airport came to me when Justin stealthy snatched the Corvette's keys saying he and Daphne were in a hurry. After a chaste kiss to everyone, including me where he missed my mouth by a good three inches, he was driving away with his best friend.

Sneaky bastard.

Gus was the most upset about leaving. I kept reminding him in a few short weeks we'd see each other again, but he still started crying when I hugged him at the gates in the airport.

I'd have expected the lesbians to raise him tougher than this. But I could see a lot of myself in him, even though I'd never admit it out loud.

"Come on, honey. Brian needs to get to work," Linz said gently, prying a sobbing Gus from my arms. He turned to Mel, crying in her stomach as Linz wrapped her arms around me. "Maybe now that you're settled and have Justin…I could send Gus over for the summer, or the winter holidays?"

"Oh, so you never sent him before because you didn't trust me?" I asked mock hurt.

"You're helpless. You said so yourself. But I trust you," she said firmly.

"Though, the bulldog doesn't." I nodded to Mel, smiling tensely. She returned the gesture.

"She doesn't know you like I do. But she sees how much you've changed."

"Yeah. Sure. You know I love any time I get with Gus."

"It's settled. He's all yours for Thanksgiving, or would you like him on Christmas?"

"Go, before you miss the plane. We'll have time to talk about this."

She kissed my cheek, wiping the excess of lipstick, then she left along with my little man. He was still crying, watching me over his shoulder until we couldn't see each other anymore.

On my way to the diner, I tried to get a grip of myself. Debbie was going to read through my bullshit like always, but as long as I still could fool everyone else I was alright with the way things were, it was all that mattered.

Emmett was at the counter, his agenda opened in front of him, along with several catalogues.

"You made it! I was sure you were bailing out!" He cried when he saw me.

"I had to drive my kid to the airport."

"Oh, right." He frowned, looking over my shoulder.

I turned to check what got his attention, but saw nothing. "What?" I muttered, before turning to Deb. "Coffee."

She made an over flourished bow. "At your disposal, your majesty."

"Please?" I smiled.

"Better. And for breakfast? You need to eat."

"Omelet." I wasn't particularly hungry, after the barbeque at Mikey's. I probably had to spend a month in the gym. "What, Emmett?" I turned to him since he was still staring oddly.

"Where's Justin?"

"It's just the two of us. We need to discuss things privately. Like the flowers!"

"I'm going to talk to the florist this afternoon. I also need to come over by the end of the week and measure your backyard. You take these and discuss with Justin how you want to decorate the gazebo and backyard." He pushed the catalogues at me—three heavy magazines.

"Whatever. Something simple and aesthetical."

Emmett groaned. "That's such a typical groom answer!"

"I'm telling Justin you thought of him as the wife again!" I joked.

"At least he has better taste than you. Talk to him about this."

"Fine. He's the artist, anyway. Did you manage to talk to your friends in Vermont?" I was slightly afraid to bring that up.

"Yes, they're very understanding, but we lost about twenty percent of the budget on that."

I waved my hand dismissively, just as Debbie placed my breakfast in front of me. "Thanks." I smiled at her. "Uh, Justin reminded me we need to discuss music." I turned back to Emmett.

"Right. Do you want a live band? Do you want a piano man to play the wedding march?"

"Can't we hire a DJ? I mean, I can ask Sam."

"Sam who?"

"My DJ, from Babylon."

"Oh! That will save money." His eyes lit up as he scribbled on his notebook.

"Of course, we're paying him. As for a piano man…" I shrugged.

"That will be so romantic!" Debbie winked, patting my cheek.

"Exactly!" I scowled, sipping rom my coffee. I was reaching my limit of romantic stuff regarding the wedding.

"Sunshine needs the best." When she used that stern voice, I knew I had to listen to her.

"Piano man." I waved to Emmett's notebook. "And let me know if you can find the flowers."

"I'm trying, Brian, but I can't promise anything."

"I'll find a way to have his fucking golden gardenias at the wedding even if it means I have to fly to fucking China myself!" I slapped my hand to the counter.

Instead of sounding scary, I managed to sound something else I didn't want to describe with words. Emmett clutching at his heart was a clear sign I did it wrong.

"And you accuse him of not being romantic!" he told Debbie.

To prove them what a fucking marshmallow I'd become, I shushed them when my phone started ringing. It was Justin.

"We were talking about you, Sunshine!"

"Awesome. You gossip about me while I'm subjected to the most terrifying thing in my life!" He whined.

I wasn't sure if he was serious or not. "Are you okay?"

"One word—eighteen. As in sweet eighteen, coming of age, or whatever you want to call it, dress shopping. That's what Molly wanted from me."

"Oh." I failed to see any bad part in that. I remembered Claire dragging me with her because Mom used to threaten her to involve me too in her activities. I actually didn't mind the shopping, just the time spent with her.

"Why did I agree to this?" Justin groaned, bringing me back to his problem.

"Because she's your sister and you love her."

"You have a sister, too," he muttered sullenly. "Oh, look, I have to go. The annoying brat is impatient to start the shopping spree."

I don't give a fuck about my sister, I wanted to say, but he had enough on his plate as it was. I knew how against shopping Justin could be. "Well, good luck with that! Both the gallery and shopping."

"I'm looking forward to the quiet the gallery will provide. Anyway, talk to you later. Love you."

I smiled like every other time he said the words. "I love you," I whispered.

Hanging up, I became extra aware of the silence around me. Both Debbie and Emmett were watching me curiously, but with matching smiles on their faces.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you happy and so in love! It's refreshing. After watching you for years pushing everyone away, including Justin." Debbie patted my cheek.

"I grew up." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm so proud of you, honey!" Emmett threw his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

"What did I miss?" I heard Theodore ask from behind me. "Is it hug Brian day?"

"You're asking for a pink slip, Schmidt. Shouldn't you be at work, anyway? Your boss doesn't appreciate tardiness."

"Still an asshole, though," Debbie added, shaking her head.

"Well, you can't have it all." I laughed, placing a few bills on the counter. "Work awaits us, Theodore." I wrapped my arm around his shoulders.

"You didn't even touch your food." Debbie frowned.

"I'm really not hungry, blame your son and his overzealous nature inherited from you to cook for an army."

"I am hungry," Theodore commented. "Can I have your food?"

I pushed my plate toward him.

I couldn't think of anything but Justin shopping with his sister. For one, he didn't like shopping. For two, all the dresses might remind him of prom, or at least make him think of it. I hoped he wouldn't think of it, or we'd have a field night filled with fragments of that unfortunate event.

A shiver ran through me only at the thought of his prom.

"Something wrong?" Deb sensed my distress.

Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out of me. My worry over Justin shopping with Molly for her eighteenth birthday triggering memories, made my friends roll their eyes at me.

"Justin's tougher than that. I thought you knew it."

I grimaced at Debbie, knowing she was right. He was much tougher than me.

However it was my job as his partner, his future husband, to worry about him.

Justin's POV

Shopping was never my thing.

I couldn't remember the last time I stepped foot into a mall to browse for clothes—it was probably that one time, too many years ago, when Brian needed a new tie. I'd never forget that traumatizing experience. My feet hated me for days.

Molly didn't seem to care I was in a hurry to meet with the owner of the gallery. She leisurely went from one formal dress store to another, trying on dresses but not buying anything.

"Next time you want to shop, you can take Brian as your shopping buddy. You'll get along sooo well!" I trudged after her in yet another store.

"Just because you don't have a sense of fashion, it doesn't mean everyone is like you. Are you sure you're gay?"

I huffed. That was Brian's argument too. I had no idea I had to live up to some standard if I liked cock. Life could have been so much easier if I'd known that when I chose to explore back when I was seventeen. Brian should have given me a pamphlet on dos and don'ts. Snorting to myself, I focused on Molly.

"Look, Molly…I'm busy. Can't you decide already? You've been trying the same kind of dress, same color from every store we've visited. Choose! Money isn't an issue. I promised to buy you whatever you want. I'm putting a stop to this torture. This is the last store!"

She rolled her eyes, going to the red dresses section.

"Besides, I don't even understand why you need to shop for your dress in June. Your birthday is in October!"

"So I can have time to change my mind. Maybe I'm going to wear this at your wedding?"

"Daphne is going to wear lilac, and so are you! That's one of the things that hasn't changed."

"There's still time to change the groom." She giggled, just as a saleslady joined us, offering her help.

I glowered at my sister, watching her scorn the racks of the same type of dress, with small differences between them. All of them were long, too long for her age. Seriously. Didn't girls her age like to show their legs?

While waiting in a plush seat for her to try on her dresses, I thought over her earlier comment about changing the groom. I refused to think I was one of these crazy soon-to-be-married types who obsessed over everything. Emmett had teased me too many times about being a bridezilla, or groomzilla, whatever you prefer, sweetie—these were his words.

Maybe it was a good thing Brian decided to get properly involved. This way Emmett wouldn't call me names anymore, and he'd realize dealing with me was nothing compared to the control freak, sometimes known as Brian.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Molly's small voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

Truthfully, the ankle long chiffon dress was horrible, and it didn't suit her at all.

"I told you ten stores ago that you'd look better in a short dress, but it's your decision. Your birthday." I sighed. "Your eighteenth, Molly, not your eightieth."

"Well, I do have a short one in there." She pointed to the changing room.

"Why don't you try it?"

Reluctantly, she disappeared behind the door. When she returned, I heard her squeal first then saw what she was wearing.

At last, something normal.

This red dress was exactly what I had in mind for her, made of satin and tulle, a few inches above her knees, with quite the cleavage or better said, leaving little to the imagination, with that sweetheart neckline. But even though she was my baby sister, I wouldn't have her in any other dress.

Molly pirouetted for me, smiling from ear to ear. "This is the one!"

I beamed at her. "It looks wonderful, Molly. You look wonderful!"

She threw her arms around me. "Thank you, Justin!"

"See? What would you do without your big brother's guiding hand? Now, go change so we can leave. I still need to get to the gallery. Today, if possible."

"What? No lunch with your favorite sister?" She pouted, walking backwards to the dressing room.

It was a little after one, but I could squeeze in lunch with my favorite and only sister. All the shopping had me famished.

When Molly returned to me with her dress on her arm, she reminded me she still needed shoes and maybe a clutch. Thankfully, we found these in the same store.

It didn't even matter her dress, shoes and clutch cost nearly five hundred dollars. The things I did for my sister…

A burger with fries later, I drove her home, then finally made it to the gallery where I stayed until nine in the evening, discussing my show. Everything was coming along the way I wanted, but September was still too early for the opening.

Around nine thirty, I stumbled into the diner, ready to drop. Debbie fixed me supper while I slid into an empty booth, checking my phone for the first time in hours. As I suspected, there were many missed calls—three from Mom, two from Emmett, five from Cynthia and the winner was Brian with ten.

"What did I miss?" I asked Debbie when she placed a cup of coffee in front of me, smiling.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

I showed her my phone, grinning. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

She winked, before pointing to my phone. "He misses you!"

"Oh, yeah. He probably needs something."

Debbie took her serious, don't-fuck-with-me face. "Sunshine, you're both so stubborn and blind I want to knock your heads together. You're getting married for fuck's sake! Isn't that proof enough of how much he loves you?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Deb, I know Brian loves me, but he's usually this insistent when he needs something. Trust me."

"Or maybe he's just worried because you didn't pick up the phone."

"What could be so urgent?" I muttered.

"Don't you have a fuck schedule? Maybe you missed it? Ha!" She pinched my cheek, making me turn red.

"We don't have such a thing!"

"Of course, you don't. You do it all the time."

"Not tonight. Trust me. I can barely keep my eyes open." I yawned as if to prove to her how tired I was.

While she went to grab my food, which was ready, I called Brian.

"Justin!" He answered promptly, sounding hysterical. "Are you okay? Why didn't you answer?"

Maybe he actually wasonly worried. "I'm fine. Like I told you this morning, I went to the gallery after being dragged all over the mall. It was polite to keep my phone shut."

"Fuck polite, Sunshine! This day just got worse. Hold on." There was some rustling then his hard, angry voice snapping at someone. "I don't care how you get me there! You can invent teleportation for all I care, but if I'm not in Miami by seven tomorrow morning, you're fired!" I cringed. Poor guy, whoever he or she was at the receiving end of Brian's wrath. I'd been there. I knew how intimidating he was, but I also knew he was more bark than bite. "Hold on, Justin," he muttered to me over a loud voice at his end of the phone. "Yes, you idiot! I've been telling you for hours now! And I want the story boards done by the time I leave! I don't care if you haven't started yet!" There was a deafening silence and I was smart enough to pull the phone away from my ear. "YOU HAVEN'T STARTED YET?"

When he stopped screaming, I tentatively pressed the phone back to my ear. "Everything okay?" I asked, mustering all my courage. I knew it was best to leave him lash out, then when he had calmed, to talk about it.

"The client I was supposed to meet with today? He mysteriously forgot about our meeting and left the city. Thankfully, Cynthia tracked him through his stupid secretary. He's on his way to Miami where he has a layover for his flight to Paris tomorrow."

"Shit. It was that hair dye company? The one you bitched about?"

"Exactly. It's a great account, and we lose many zeros if we don't get it. And as if this wasn't enough, Tommy called me earlier. He said there's been an incident at Babylon. The reason I've been calling you for the past hour!"

"Don't get your panties in a twist. Tommy? The bouncer?"

"Yes, keep up. Apparently, I hired a minor and to make it puuurfect, his daddy found out and raised hell."

"Didn't that kid have an ID or something when you hired him?" I drank from my coffee, foreseeing a long, sleepless night.

It was unlike Brian to associate with a teenager. Of course, unless they were me.

"Fake ID, Sunshine. Anyway, his father created quite the ruckus at the club when he found out his progenitor was a go-go boy. Punches flew. The police are there."

Whoa. It was more serious than I thought. I expected the father to have grabbed his child and gone home, but apparently that wasn't the case.

"Still there?" Brian wondered, sounding amused.

"Uh, yeah. Let me guess. You want me to go over?"

Debbie chose that moment to place my food in front of me. My appetite was long gone.

"Yes. Please go over there and see what the fuck happened. Tell the police whatever they need to know. All the documents are in my office at the club. Oh, and…you have power of decision. It's all in the documents."

Wow. He kept surprising me. "Okay. But I doubt they'll listen to me. They'll want you."

"Your name is on the papers, Justin. If they refuse to listen, tell them you're my partner and if that doesn't work, either, tell them you know Horvath."

I laughed. "Alright. I'll let you know what happens."

"If my phone is off, I found a plane ticket to Miami, and I'm going to show that fucker no one stands me up. What an asshole!"

"Calm down, Brian. It's just another account. So what if you lose it? You can get a better one." I didn't want Brian causing himself more stress again.

"It's important to me. Now, go and take care of our baby."

"Sure. I'll protect Babylon from the mean police."

"Thanks."

"Good luck with winning the account. Love you."

There was a pause. I could hear his labored breathing. "Me too. Bye, Sunshine."

Oh well. Rome wasn't built in one day.

He didn't have to say it all the time. I was secure enough, and knew Brian well enough, to see how he felt through his every gesture and look.

"Where are you going? You need to eat!" Debbie grabbed my arm when I got up.

"I need to go to Babylon."

"Brian's dick can wait."

I shook my head, fighting a smile. I absolutely loved how direct and crass she could be. It was like a fresh breath of air from the sugar coating shit I had dealt with in New York for years from tight assed people. I missed Debbie the most.

"Actually, it can't wait. Not Brian's dick." I laughed when she gave me a funny look. "Something happened at Babylon and Brian's busy with Kinnetik business."

"At least let me make you a sandwich. When's the last time you ate?"

"Around one. I think." I smiled uncertainly.

Pursing her lips she pushed me back into the booth. I waited dutifully for her to return with my sandwich while I finished my coffee.

On the way to Babylon, I called Daphne to let her know I wasn't headed home yet, but if she wanted the car, she could have it. She dismissed the idea, saying she'd crash at her parents' place. I was happy they'd made up.

The sight greeting me at Babylon was ripped from one of those police TV shows. Cruisers, cops, people gathered and loud voices.

I pushed my way to the entrance where a cop stood in Tommy's usual place. Where the fuck is he? I hoped he wasn't arrested.

"No one goes in, son. There's been an incident."

I'm not your fucking son! "My name is Justin Taylor. I'm Brian Kinney's partner. He owns the club."

The officer eyed me with a long, speculative look before shaking his head, snorting.

"Why should I believe you? I had at least a dozen guys like you."

What the fuck is he on? "Excuse me?"

"You're not the first one to say you're Mr. Kinney's partner."

"I'm more than his partner! I'm his fiancé. We're getting married!" I showed him my ring, glaring. "And if you'd follow me to his office, I'll show you the paperwork stating that I own the club with him."

The cop sighed, gesturing for me to step inside. He was quickly replaced by another policeman.

The view inside the club reminded me of the bombing. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing Brian was there with me.

The dance floor was empty, chairs turned upside down and confetti all over. It was kind of creepy seeing the vast room bathed in bright light. I was too used to the disco lights flashing above my head and the loud music pumping from the audio system. The silence was deafening.

There was one young man on a stand where usually the go-go boys danced, and an EMT was tending to his busted face.

A few feet away was some blood. It made me sick, but I pushed away the nausea.

On the stairs leading to the upper floor was who I suspected to be the father, flanked by two cops as another EMT examined his hand.

On a couch behind the stairs was Tommy; giving statements to a cop.

In front of Brian's office, I pulled my key chain from my jacket and with shaky hands I unlocked the door. I went to his desk, unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled the file.

"Here, officer." I placed the papers on the desk, flipping the lamp on.

It took him a long time to read through them and admit his mistake.

"I see." He regarded me coolly. "I still need to talk to Mr. Kinney. He brought this mess upon himself."

"Sir, this club is as much mine as it is his. Besides, he's busy with his other company. He had to catch a plane to Miami."

"He left the city?"

Shit. I realized my mistake too late. "His concern lies with Kinnetik at the moment. I can help here." I pointed to the papers again. I tried to sound as stern as possible. An hour ago I had no idea I owned part of Babylon. Brian should have told me before.

"Even if your name is there, you have no legal right."

"If I were only his business partner, that wouldn't have been a problem! Look, officer, either let me deal with this or we can wait for Brian. That can take days."

"Or." He glared. "I can close this place until further notice."

Ah. Cops loved to close gay establishments, especially Babylon. Poor baby it had been closed and ruined at every turn.

Last card I could play. "Did I mention that I happen to know Detective Carl Horvath? That's right. You don't want your superior involved, do you?"

The cop who I didn't bother learning his name, straightened, but didn't drop his sour look. "What happened here was a serious felony."

"Why must you point at the wrong person? Let me tell you who is the guilty one in this situation—that kid's dad! He probably resented him for who he was, and the poor guy had to find somewhere to work. He got his hands on a fake ID and somehow got Brian fooled. That's no easy feat, by the way. And yes, before you ask, I'm talking from experience. I was in the kid's shoes once!"

He sighed, and finally spoke and behaved with a civilized manner about the whole situation. After the police had all the statements and everything was clear, they took the kid's dad to the station. I stayed with the kid, Gabe, at the bar until early into the morning. As I'd suspected, his story was similar to mine.

I promised him things would get better if he allowed me to take him to the Vic Grassi House where he'd be taken care of, and they'd help him find his place in the world. I also told him about Vic, and answered all his questions about our life and what to expect from idiots like his father.

Gabe was only sixteen and had to face the world as it was—cruel and unapologetic. No thanks to his father and assholes like him.

Around six in the morning, after too many coffees, I drove him to the center so Tanis could take care of him.

Tanis looked surprised to have such an early visit, but immediately called Phillip to prepare Gabe a room. I also advised the kid to go home and take whatever he wanted while his father was arrested so he'd avoid more running into that bastard.

I made him promise to stay away from Babylon and Liberty Avenue, at least until he was eighteen, and to go to school. As I instructed him to get a decent job and have a good education, I could hear Brian in my head saying the same things to me many years ago.

When I arrived at Britin, the sun was high in the sky, but my destination was the bed.

Brian's POV

After catching a late flight to Miami the other day, and luckily finding my asshole client waiting for his connection—he signed the papers on my back, afraid I'd probably go further with my following. It proved he was taking his mistress to Paris, which made me sick of his behavior.

The next afternoon, I returned to glorious Pittsburgh, exhausted.

I hadn't heard from Justin, and the situation with Babylon worried me. I hoped he'd managed to keep everything under control.

I had to park in front of the garage because Justin hadn't learned to park with enough space for my car. It was a constant problem, but thankfully I either usually arrived before him, or we were in the same car.

Cupcake greeted me at the front door, yapping loudly. He rushed past me, running outside and straight to his favorite tree.

I stared after him curiously. It must have been urgent, because I knew Justin was always careful with letting him out a few times every day.

Where the hell is Justin, by the way? He'd have been all over me by now. And I knew he was home.

Maybe he was absorbed in painting.

When I reached our room, I couldn't help but laugh. It explained why the poor puppy was eager to get out do his business, and why I hadn't received my welcome home kiss.

At four PM, Justin was sleeping soundly with the cat perched on his head. I could only imagine the state his hair would be in when she moved away.

Dropping my briefcase by the door, I walked to the bed, undressing. The second I knelt next to him, he shot up looking disoriented.

"Hello, Sunshine!" I placed a hand behind his neck, bringing him closer. I took advantage of his opened mouth, kissing him thoroughly, before pulling away to see him still looking dazed.

"You're home."

"Just got here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep for a week."

"What time is it?" He yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

"A little after four."

"AM or PM?"

"Four in the evening. Had a good nap?" I combed my fingers through his mused up hair.

"Nap?" He gasped. "I had a late night, thank you very much. I got home around eight this morning and promptly fell asleep."

"Late night? Did you stay at Babylon after everything cleared up?" I gently tugged at his bangs.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I spent the whole night at the club, but there was no fun. Trust me. It turned out the idiot cop wouldn't understand that you own more than one business, and that Kinnetik is more important. Even when I told and showed him Babylon was mine too, he still wanted to talk to you."

"So what did you do?" My hate for cops came back tenfold.

"Uh…" Justin bit his lip, eyeing me worried. "Don't be mad, but he closed the club until he could get a hold of you."

"Wonderful." I rolled my eyes, lying on my side with him next to me. "How did your meeting go? At the gallery."

"It was long and tiresome." He sighed heavily. "But we have a deal. The opening is set for September."

"So why the long face? You don't look exactly happy. Is it too soon?" I brushed his cheek with my finger, staring at his knitted brows and pouty lips.

"It's just…while I was there, these two women were discussing one of their daughters' life, entirely off topic to the painting in front of them." He refused to meet my eyes.

"Since when do you care about the breeders' lives?"

"Since that woman's daughter was dating an older guy, about ten years her junior. She asked her friend 'What do you call a seventeen year old dating a twenty seven year old?' Her friend answered—"

"Hot?" I smirked, kissing his lips before playfully biting his bottom lip.

My action stole a small smile from Justin. "Actually, her word was illegal."

"Illegal is hot."

"Brian, I realized in that moment…"

"How hot our relationship is?" I teased, but dread filled me.

There were so many possibilities, I refused to think of anything negative.

Justin threw me a look that showed he wanted a serious conversation. I took a deep breath, bracing myself.

"You realized you're too young for me?" The words tasted of poison.

"No. Stop guessing my words. You're wrong. I realized how stupid and naïve I was back in high school."

Oh, because this explanation makes me feel so much better.

"I'd say you were driven and in love. I couldn't say no to you. I had no idea how and no desire to understand why I couldn't deny you," I admitted, rubbing his cheek with my thumb.

He smiled brightly, rolling on top of me. "I loved you from the moment you took me to your loft."

I sighed in relief that this conversation wasn't taking any bad turns. "Now, now. That was lust. Maybe during the night, or the next morning you started getting in over your blond little head."

Justin laughed, pressing his face into my neck and pressing his lips to my skin, making funny noises. God, he was such a twat. "Oh yeah," he said against my throat. "During the night, definitely. You had me at naked cartwheels and hand stands. God, I thought you died when you tumbled over the back of the couch." He raised his head to look into my eyes, mirth dancing in his blue pools.

"I'm so happy I don't remember that part."

He caught his lower lips between his teeth, watching me a little more seriously and warily. It got me curious, so I raised an eyebrow.

"But you remember…some of that night?"

My little insecure twat. I hugged him tightly. "I remember your tight ass if that's what you mean," I said in his ear. "And your wide, honest blue eyes, your crazy answers to my questions."

Justin hid his face in my neck again. I could feel heat radiating from his face. "I can't believe I told you so many stupid things—I preferred Cheerios, I played Tomb Raider, and the worst was the part with my allergies. God, I can't believe what an idiot I was."

"Oh, cheer up! You were hilarious. You forgot to mention the rimming. Your face…when I told you to do it." I cracked up, like every time I thought back to that night.

Justin poked me in the ribs. "That was plain mean. You'd caught on my bullshit and you decided to fuck with my head."

"Justin, I caught on with your bullshit since you said I had a fucking nice kitchen while I was undressing in front of you! Wait no. I knew something was off since you told me you had been at Meathook."

"I was nervous as hell!" He retorted hotly.

"I tend to have that effect on people. Like I nearly made my new account pee his pants when I caught up with him on his layover in Miami."

"You're the best!" Justin leaned up to kiss me, but I ruined the moment with a loud yawn. He still pecked my lips. "Sleep, Brian. I'll wake you later to go out and celebrate."

"Sounds fun. Let Cupcake back in. He needed out."

Justin nodded, kissing my nose, before jumping out of the bed.

I rolled on my side and came face to face with the cat. Fuck. I'd kill her if she tried getting anywhere near my hair. She seemed asleep, and I hoped she'd stay asleep while I rested.

Right before I closed my eyes to get some much needed sleep, I heard Justin saying something I had been completely sure he didn't know. He was supposed to have been too delirious with his release after our first time to not hear the words I'd uttered against my fucking will.

"You said you loved me." The door of the bedroom closed after him.

It was painfully clear in my head the moment I said the words. To this day, I had no idea what possessed me to say that.

Justin was the first virgin I had, and he'd been a great fuck as inexperienced as he was. The trust in his eyes, and how honest he was about everything had a great impact on me. I was high as a kite and he managed to touch a part of me I always protected, thus my monumental slip. It was probably one of the triggers that put ideas in his head about coming back for more.

Whatever the case, I had never been happier for gaining an insistent, stubborn trick in Justin who turned to be so much more. He turned out to be everything for me.

oOo

Two days before the wedding, I had been convinced to do the most idiotic thing in the world. Rehearsal.

Emmett was standing at the gazebo, gesticulating to us. "Now, smile and come here."

I took Justin's hand and strode toward Emmett.

"No. No. No." He shook he hands wildly. "You're doing it wrong!"

I groaned. "Do you want me to fucking skip?"

"I think he means we need to walk slower," Justin said soothingly, squeezing my hand.

"This is shit. Can't we start with us already at the gazebo?"

"No!" Emmett put his hands on his hips. "We overcome every change you came up with for the past half year and now you're stuck at walking?"

"I know how to walk, Honeycutt! Since 1972, actually. I was one year old when I learned how to use my fucking legs."

"Bravo!" He clapped, scowling. "Now walk. Slowly, just like when you learned how to do it. Baby steps."

"Should I tumble and fall on my face too?"

"Brian," Justin groaned. "It will take less than a minute. Stop whining."

"This rehearsal is shit. I know what I have to do. We walk down the aisle, reach the fucking gazebo, stop, repeat after the minister, add our own vows, then kiss." I caught Justin's eye, smirking.

He shoved me. I stumbled, and we both burst out laughing.

"Can you two be serious for two minutes? I have a five year old's party to plan and meet with the mommy tomorrow at nine."

"We're not keeping you here," I told him, bringing Justin closer by the loops of his jeans. "I declare this rehearsal over. I may kiss the groom." He played along, wrapping a leg around my ass, kissing me back hungrily.

"I'm out of here before you start fucking."

Emmett breezed past us.

"How long do you think it will take until he realizes he doesn't have a ride?" I licked at Justin's ear. "His ride is going to ride me soon."

Justin moaned, rubbing against me, his fingers tugging at my hair.

A hand pushed against my shoulder, separating me from Justin. Emmett scowled at me, before giving Justin a tight smile. "Drive me back."

"Pleeeease?" Justin raised an eyebrow, but he was already walking away with Emmett behind him.

"Is this the abstinence before the wedding?" I called after them.

"We don't do abstinence, Brian. I'll be back before you can miss me."

"I already do," I mumbled. I didn't expect him to hear, but Justin had a Brian radar.

He flashed me a huge smile over his shoulder. "Love you!"

Once I was alone, I glared out to the gazebo. It was already decorated; white and yellow flowers wrapped around it. It was nice, I guessed, but too lesbianic.

Fuck. The things I did for Sunshine.

Cupcake came zooming out from the kitchen and jumped at me feet.

"What do you want?"

He leaned on his front legs, yapping and wriggling his tail. Then he turned around and rushed to the gazebo, looking back at me.

"No running," I chided him. "We need to walk slowly." I rolled my eyes, shuffling after the dog.

By the time Justin returned, I was ready for the day to be over. Next day promised to be worse—the bachelor party awaited us.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Justin demanded as he stepped into the bedroom.

I grinned at him through the cloud of fog from my joint. "Getting stoned."

He pulled at his clothes, laughing. "At least you're honest."

"The fuck does it look like I'm doing? I'm hoping to forget tomorrow."

"Oh yeah. Scary."

"Why did you let Emmett plan the bachelor party on his own? We might end up with stupid cheesy gifts, and dressed in matching clothes." I shuddered, passing him the blunt.

"The others are helping him."

"Even scarier."

He lay next to me, nudging my ankle with his. "Why were you such an ass earlier?"

"Rehearsal is a waste of fucking time. I know what I have to do."

"Actually you don't. Did you see? If it was up to you, you'd have run off to the gazebo." He rolled on top of me, kissing up and down my neck. "We need to walk slowly. In rhythm with the music."

"Fuck. I forgot about the music. What are they playing? Mozart?" I laughed, hooking a leg over his.

"It's Wagner, The Wedding March. Stop being like this."

"I guess I'm getting cold feet."

"I can warm them up." Justin rubbed his feet over mine until we started a mini war that ended with him on his chest and me behind him.

Justin's POV

"Are you alright, honey?" Debbie asked concerned from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yeah," I lied.

"Sunshine, come out and tell us what's wrong!"

"It's nothing!"

I felt sick, but it wasn't the kind of sickness that made me vomit. I only dry-heaved and felt like shit, with my head pounding.

I didn't even drink much last night. Unlike Brian.

Ugh. Brian…

My stomach turned again at the thought of our bachelor party. I should have listened to Brian and taken him up on his offered last minute trip to Vegas, right before our supposed friends had to arrive to take us to Babylon.

"Are you ready yet?" I shouted up the stairs, leaning over the railing. I'd been waiting for the fashion queen for half an hour to get down, but he kept shouting that he wanted to look his best on the worst night of his life.

The bachelor party didn't sound too bad. At least this time around, Brian was showing how much he hated it.

"Ta-da!" He jumped the last two steps, landing smoothly in front of me. He waved his Visa card in front of my eyes. "I got a fabulous idea."

"You want to go buy clothes now?" I suppressed a shudder.

"Nah. I have a proposition." His eyes moved to the clock then fixated me. "Think quick. You and me in Vegas having fun, or you and me enduring the night our friends planned."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Uh…" They'd be so upset we left their party, but escaping hours upon hours of whatever they had planned sounded tempting.

"Have you decided yet? We can make a run for it if we hurry." The doorbell rang loudly making Brian groan. "You snooze, you lose, Sunshine."

"Are you ready, lovebirds?" Emmett breezed inside, pinching Brian's cheek—earning a puzzled and horrified look, left unseen by Em who pecked my cheek, beaming.

I caught Brian's eye and shrugged in apology. I could have said yes, but we wouldn't have made it too far.

"Traitor," he whispered into my ear as we left with Emmett talking excitedly about our night.

After our night out, we'd been separated. Emmett kidnapped me and brought me to Debbie's while Michael got Brian.

I had specifically told Emmett—several times—we didn't want to spend the night before the wedding apart. No such luck.

"Justin, baby, it's Mom. Tell me what's wrong."

Awesome. Debbie brought reinforcements. "I'm FINE!"

"You're not getting cold feet, are you?" Emmett quipped up. "That would be so odd. Can you imagine? I always thought Brian was the one scared of the—"

"I'm sweaty, actually. If anyone wants to know…" I mumbled, cutting him off.

"Why don't you take a shower? Then we'll get you ready," Emmett suggested.

If only I could get off the floor.

Maybe it was cold feet.

I was getting married to Brian fucking Kinney—the Stud of Liberty Avenue.

My phone buzzed, and I thanked God for being inspired to bring it in the bathroom with me.

Dear, I'm having a FABULOUS time. You?

I chuckled, the odd churning in my stomach diminishing.

Feeling much better now. I replied quickly.

See you back home?

I'll be the one white as a sheet.

You OK?

Yup. Totally. Awesome.

I should have known I couldn't lie to save my life, not in person, not through a text message.

My phone started ringing, and I fumbled with it, cursing the loud song. Emmett went into a frenzy on the other side if the door.

"Justin, are you okay?" Brian asked softly.

Hearing his voice made me feel a thousand times better. "I guess so. You? Hangover, much?"

"My head is killing me, but Ben gave me a Tylenol. Why do I do these things?"

"What, marry me?" I teased, slouching lower against the side of the bathtub.

"No, smartass. Why did I get high last night?"

"It was the worst night of your life to quote you; also your last night of freedom to quote Ted." A short moment of silence later, I decided to bring up what had been eating at me all morning. "Don't be too upset, but I think you took someone to the Backroom. I lost track of you for a while. My stripper was kind of hot."

Brian burst out laughing. "Your stripper? Sunshine, how much did you have to drink? As for the Backroom….that was you."

"Someone stripped for me," I told him seriously. I hadn't been that drunk. I could remember what happened. Some parts. It got blurry around the edges.

"I did! I was too drunk and high to think rationally to care what others thought of my actions. I'm never stepping back into Babylon. Or anywhere near Liberty Avenue."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad. Though, I don't remember drinking much." Suddenly I gasped, having a vivid memory of Emmett handing me a glass. "Emmett—he gave me this colored drink."

"That explains—Hey! I was talking…" Brian's voice faded, being replaced by Michael's upset one.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready? You'll see each other in three hours!" He hung up before I could say anything.

The ruckus on the other side of the door made me groan as I got up and opened it.

"Some time ago, you told me this bathroom was for guests and drama queens. Let me have my drama queen moment in peace! I'm freaking the fuck out!" I snapped, mostly looking at Debbie.

I was about to slam the door in their faces when Mom threw herself at me. So much for freaking out alone.

Two hours later, I was on my way home.

Emmett had pushed me in the shower, then while I sat on the edge of the bed in only underwear, he blow dried my hair then styled it. I was too drained to fight him off. Next, Debbie brought my suit and shirt freshly ironed. I tried wrestling my way out of it, but between the two of them I succumbed and let them dress me, knot my tie, button my cuffs, make sure my hair stayed combed.

When I reached downstairs, my stomach was still in knots, and according to Molly I was being a pussy. That kind of language got her a scolding from Mom, to which of course, my beloved sister had to remind Mom how I used to talk to her when we were younger. That turned into an argument between us which escalated and to make peace between us, Mom told us to drive together.

After ten minutes of driving in silence, I couldn't take it anymore. "You know I didn't mean all the things I used to say about you."

"So you meant some of them?" Her eyes continued to stare out the window.

I laughed lightly. "Maybe, but I'll never trade you for anything in the world. You'll always be my annoying, little sister."

She patted my arm, smiling. "And you'll always be my…hero big brother."

"Hero?" I turned to gape at her, unsure if I heard her right. "I'm hardly a hero, Molly."

"Yes, you are. I never told you how proud of you I am, Justin."

"You are?"

"Yes. You managed to escape Dad's claws and live your dream. I mean, it must have been awesome to live with Brian, instead of with our parents."

"Living with him had its perks." I grinned at her, feeling a blush rising to my cheeks. "But don't think it was easy. I missed you guys a lot. Even Dad. Do you remember how I used to call and talk to Mom for hours?"

"And she always cried after—for hours. I thought it was you who upset her, and I hated you for that. Then I grew up…and truly understood everything."

I highly doubted she understood everything. No one could understand everything…unless they were queer like us. They thought they had it all figured out, but they didn't; not by a long shot. Though, I didn't crush her dream of understanding me.

"I think I see where that whole hero deal comes from, but seriously. If it wasn't for Brian…and the others, especially Debbie…I don't know. I really don't know want to think of it."

She rubbed a hand over my back. "You want to know why I consider you a hero?"

"Sure." It became hard to focus on the road. My eyes were all misty, so I pulled over. "Tell me."

We'd never talked like this. She'd never used that gentle, soothing voice in my presence.

"You had the courage to come out to our parents. I'm about the same age as you were then, and if I had to tell them that…I'd probably live in the closet for the rest of my life."

I snorted, keeping my eyes on the steering wheel. "I was kind of shoved out of the closed when Mom asked me if I had a boyfriend, when she asked me about Brian. She'd been snooping through my sketch pads. They weren't exactly G rated if you get what I mean…and I was a kid in love so of course Brian's name was written all over the place."

Molly giggled. "Still, you chose not to come home when Dad went after you. I heard them shouting that night. It was so scary, but it was also the only time I really hated you. You were gone and that meant Dad couldn't blame you for nonsense. It was me he snapped at."

That was news to me. "I had no idea. God, Molly."

"It didn't last long, because he left. Anyway, back to you." She grabbed my hand, squeezing my fingers. "And then…one day…I had no idea what was happening, why everyone was crying and praying, and I can't still fully grasp that I almost lost my brother." She took a shuddering breath.

Great, from talking about Dad, she moved to talk about my time in the hospital.

"I remember one day when we were visiting you at the hospital. Mom told me I was really lucky to have such a stubborn big brother, who chose to live, to fight for his life."

I bit my cheek. I remembered too. The reason I had been stubborn was Brian. Every day that passed without him visiting, I fought harder to get well and leave that place so I could see him.

"I wasn't there for you much. Over the years, I mean," I admitted sadly, turning around and rubbing her shoulder.

"It doesn't matter. I was annoying back then."

"Good to know you admit it. God, Molly, there were times I wanted strangle you. Especially when you repeated whatever I said in that high pitched voice of yours."

"I wasn't exactly repeating. It was more like retelling in case Mom didn't hear your mumblings."

"I don't mumble! Brian does, though."

She giggled. "So you're all grown-up now. You're getting married to the man you love, you have your dream career, you have awesome friends…"

"And what? You want a place in my awesome life? I know your new BFF is Emmett."

"He's so cute! He likes all the things I like—cute, bright, sparkling colors…"

"Next time you need to go shopping, take him. Or Brian. You'll get along so well, though he might tire you out."

Her eyes lit up. "It's a date! I'm so stealing your husband for a shopping trip when you're back from Sp…the honeymoon." She looked at me, panicked, after her almost slip on the location.

"You know where we're going?" I stared at her in shock.

I wasn't aware Brian told anyone of the secret destination.

Since when was he so close to my sister to tell her that kind of secret?

"He might have mentioned it, but no amount of begging or pouting will make me cave!" She folded her arms across her chest, huffing.

"You're no fun."

Molly smiled mischievously, as I started the car and continued our drive home.

"He says I'm no fun," she whined to no one in particular.

The dashboard clock caught my eye, and I pressed the gas pedal. "Shit. I'm going to be late to my own wedding."

"He said shit. He said he's—"

"Are you trying to reenact your childhood years of annoying the shit out of me? If you mock me one more time, I'm pushing you out of the car, Mollusk!"

"Oh, no! Not that horrid nickname!" She punched my arm half-heartedly.

"Yes, that nickname for the rest of your life if you don't stop!"

"But it's fun, fun, fun to get to you!"

"Stop, stop, STOP!" I shouted, but we both burst out laughing.

Brian's POV

Michael brought me home when I threatened him with bodily harm.

After the painkiller Ben had given me kicked in, I checked on Justin who seemed to be panicking. At least, my job to distract him was done by the time Mikey stole my phone. I had managed to calm him. It was funny how he couldn't remember much of what happened last night. Emmett must have outdone himself with whatever he gave Justin.

The poppers had given me enough courage to do something so ridiculous and stupid I would never be able to appear in daylight on Liberty Avenue. I fucking stripped on the corniest songs for Justin who stood there cheering on me, before he jumped me. I pulled him to the Backroom, and he thought I took someone else in there, not him. I had to check with Emmett what shit he gave my Sunshine.

Once home, I had less than one hour to get ready.

Mikey went upstairs, but I made a detour to the booze, grabbed my bottle of Beam and then made my way to our bedroom.

"You'll do enough of that in a few hours." Mikey snatched the bottle from my hand.

He'd done a lot of snatching, starting with snatching me from the club at three in the morning, continuing with hiding my phone so I wouldn't call Justin during the night (but I found it, because Mikey is predictable), he stayed with me the whole night just so I wouldn't escape (he'd managed to keep the car keys hidden), he didn't let me drink at his house, and now he wasn't allowing me to drink in my own house.

I let him win only because I had so little time to get dressed and look fabulous, and all no thanks to him.

I flung the rumpled clothes I was wearing to the bed, hopped in the shower before stepping into my suit. After buttoning up my shirt, I worked on my tie. Or tried to. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, and of course, Mikey caught on that.

"Come here." He turned me to face him, pushing my hands away. I supervised the process of knotting my tie, in case he fucked it up. "Who would have thought? Brian Kinney getting married!"

I peered at him down my nose, sucking on my top lip, regarding him coolly. I tried to keep up the pretense that I was still upset from the previous night.

"Miracles do happen."

"Brian, you know we never meant to upset either of you. Justin sounded pissed on the phone."

"We said no separation. This tradition is shit. What next? That something blue shit? Please." I snorted, rolling my eyes.

He stopped fiddling with my tie, his eyes widening.

"Emmett." We laughed in recognition.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. "You've always been the sane one from our group, Mikey."

"What? The others are crazy?" He chuckled, touching my cheek.

"Well..." I rested my forehead on his. "Emmett is…he is Emmett. He doesn't need a description. I doubt there are words in the thesaurus that could do him justice. Theodore—he's an accountant. Figures men are always a little screwed in the head. And that leaves me, and don't say I'm not crazy. Someone made sure I'd be screwed."

Michael narrowed his eyes like always when I put myself down. "Brian, don't think of your parents now. They didn't make you who you are, you made yourself. Look how well things turned out to be!"

"It's their fault I had such a questionable behavior for years, but then again if I'd been a saint like you, I wouldn't have met Justin."

"Oh, I doubt it. You'd have met one way or another. You're soul mates." He grinned.

I cringed, pulling away from him, and checking on my cuff links. "Don't use such blasphemous words under my roof, Novotny!" I shuddered. There were still things I couldn't wrap my head around yet. "I'm just warming up to the whole husband deal."

Mikey straightened my tie, smirking. "You asked him. Several times, might I add."

"The little shit plays hard to get."

"Oh, right. Everyone knows why you asked him in the diner. It was your way to let all the queers know you were in an exclusive, monogamous relationship."

I pushed him out of my way as I walked to the mirror. "Stop saying these words!"

"I can go on forever."

"I'm sure you can," I mumbled, running the comb through my hair. I caught his eye in the mirror. "But Mikey, with exclusivity, and being healthy…comes responsibility."

I had no idea how to tell him so just dropping the bomb was the best choice.

"You don't plan on having an open marriage too?"

"No!" Christ. He is slow today. "Quite the opposite. Since we haven't been with anyone else in…a fucking lifetime…we're going to the next level."

I kept eye-contact, hoping he'd catch on what I was trying to tell him.

His brows furrowed. "You planned an orgy for your honeymoon night?"

"Bare backing!" I blurted in his face.

Mikey blanched, taking a step back. "You're not serious."

"Why not?" I turned my attention back to my reflection in the mirror. I smoothed the lapel of my suit. I looked hot. My eyes found his brown ones again. "It's the ultimate adventure regarding sex. I always wanted to try it, and never could for obvious reasons."

"Ugh! Can you stop talking about this? I'm happy you can experience it, and I expect details, but a little consideration for your best friend! I can never have that!"

I spun around, placing my hands on the sides of his neck. "Mikey, I doubt it's a life-altering experience."

"Come back to me after you've done it."

I smirked. "Oh, you bet I will! I'm not sure though, why Justin insists on taking a camera with us. Unless he wants to film us fucking, we both know we won't leave the room. So there will be no boring pictures like that time you went to Paris with the doctor."

"You're taking him to Paris? That's so sweet!"

"Pshh." I stepped back, leaning against the closet's door. "We're still young. Visiting Paris is for old married couples. No, Mikey. I'm taking Justin to paradise!"

He raised an eyebrow.

I shook my finger at him. "Don't you fucking tell him, or I'll cut out your tongue!"

"No telling. I swear." He grinned, eager to find out the location of Justin and my honeymoon.

I held my pinky out. "Swear on the memory of Marilyn Monroe."

Mikey rolled his eyes, but hooked our fingers and repeated my words.

My smile stretched wide. I'd been bursting to tell him. Except that one slip I had a while ago when I mentioned the destination to Molly, but thankfully she swore to guard my secret, no one knew of my honeymoon plans.

"Tell me, Brian. The suspense is killing me!" Mikey whined, tugging at my finger.

"Ibiza!" I beamed.

His face fell comically, making my glee diminish considerably. Of course, the Stepford husband in him didn't agree with my choice.

"It's your honeymoon, Brian! It's supposed to be a romantic place."

"Don't worry. It will be romantic."

"Honey, I'm hoomeee! Ow, Mollusk!" Justin was home, and apparently his sister was with him. She didn't seem to approve of his shouting.

I made two steps to the door, ready to see Justin. We'd been separated for too fucking long.

"Hold it!" Michael sounded suspiciously like his mother when she was angry. "You're not going anywhere!"

"The fuck I'm not!"

"Brian, are you home?" Justin was coming up the stairs.

"You can't see him! You promised Mom, Debbie and Emmett! Justin, don't do this!" Molly was Team Let's Drive Brian and Justin Crazy. Traitor.

"In the bedroom!" I called, just as Michael grabbed my elbow and pushed me into the bathroom, closing me in there. "Let me out, asshole!" I tried the handle, then kicked the door. "MICHAEL!"

"Oh, hey, Michael. I thought I heard—" Justin had made it to the bedroom.

"Brian's locked in there. Can't you two play along?" Michael groaned.

I punched at the door. "No one kept you away from Ben when you got married! Let me the fuck out!"

"Yes, Michael. Do you really think a silly superstition is going to break us up?" Justin tried to reason with him.

I had no idea if he managed to convince him or not, because for a good minute I couldn't hear them. Then the door opened, nearly making me topple over.

Justin stood in front of me, wearing his fine Prada suit and my favorite smile.

"Hellloo, Handsome!" I took his hand, pulling him closer.

His arms wrapped around my neck as he nuzzled my ear. "You don't look half bad yourself, Stud."

"That's soon to be Taylor-Kinney." I kissed his cheek fondly.

"Sounds sophisticated." He bit at my earlobe.

"Are you absolutely sure about changing your name?"

My heart grew every time we talked about Justin taking my name and hyphenating it with his. It had been all his idea.

He grinned, pulling back so he could look into my eyes. "Justin." Kiss. "Taylor." Kiss. "Kinney." Kiss. "It has a nice ring to it."

I laughed, deepening the kiss, before resting my forehead on his, nudging his nose. "Brian Taylor-Kinney."

"I love it."

"Me too." I caught his lips into another searing kiss. "How was your night?"

"I passed out when I got to Debbie's. It was confusing for a second when I woke up. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing in Michael's old room. Then I realized it was our wedding day, and when I heard Emmett coming up the stairs to check on me, I made a mad dash to the bathroom and locked myself in there."

"Very original. Did you whack off?"

"I felt sick! What the fuck did I do last night?" He stared at me curiously.

"It's all on tape, apparently. Ben had a camera. He promised to have a little movie ready for us for when we return from the honeymoon."

"I don't want to see it. I was sure I didn't drink. But then you reminded me of Emmett and his colored glasses coming my way all night."

"It was impressive, Sunshine. So much alcohol in this small body." I ran a hand along his side, stopping at his hip.

"Hey!" He pushed against my shoulder. "So what if I'm short?"

"I'm not complaining. I'm simply amazed of how much alcohol you can ingest."

Molly appeared in the doorway. Her eyes were squeezed shut, which made me laugh.

"We're decent," I told her, making Justin poke me in the stomach.

Molly opened her eyes, sighing in relief. "You need to come downstairs. People are arriving."

"Fuck off, Mollusk. You're not keeping us apart anymore."

She tried to explain that she wasn't going to separate us, but Justin seized my hand, leading me out the bedroom and down the stairs. I smiled at Molly over my shoulder. She followed us, and I wrapped my arm around her.

She wasn't half bad. I'd told Justin many times we could trade sisters. I'd take Molly as my sister any day, instead of Claire. Fucking bitch.

To my surprise, most of the family had arrived. Only the other guests were missing—my clients, Justin's admirers and friends he'd made in New York.

It shouldn't have surprised me when I found out our guest list had about three hundred people. It was mostly because I couldn't invite only my clients alone, but I had to add their families, too.

At the bottom of the stairs, Debbie was waiting with her hands on her hips. She looked absolutely fabulous in her purple dress, and I had to compliment her in case she started screaming. It would make her forget about being upset. She was a sucker for compliments.

Though, my fear of being screamed at was in vain. Whatever she wanted to say was lost to Gus's excited squeal as he barreled into the house. Lindsay was close behind, chiding him.

Gus stopped in front of us, his eyes wide moving from me to Justin and back. "Wow. You two look…dashing." He glanced at Lindsay, probably checking if he used the right word.

"Why, thank you, Sonny Boy." I gathered him closer, patting his shoulder.

"Yes. Thank you, Gus. You look quite handsome yourself," Justin commented.

I elbowed him, narrowing my eyes. "Course he's handsome with my genes."

"I'm going to check with Emmett if everything is in order. Molly, come with me." Justin squeezed my hand, pecking my cheek, before walking to the kitchen. Linz and Debbie following them.

"Come with me." I steered Gus to my study.

He sank in my leather armchair looking smaller than he actually was. I poured myself some whiskey.

"Is it wise to drink before the wedding, Dad? What if you mess up?"

"I promise not to mistake Justin for the best man, or any of the guests." I chuckled.

He gave me a skeptical look. The dykes probably taught him to never touch alcohol.

"I hear you wanted to talk to me." I sat on the arm of the armchair.

Gus glanced up at me, before looking away. He tugged at the collar of his crisp white shirt. He was nervous as hell, and he was making me nervous.

"Yes."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, that's great. I want to talk to you about something, too."

"You go first."

I smiled, accepting the proposition. "You're growing up, Sonny Boy. You sure understand better your mothers' relationship, and mine with Justin." Even though I don't understand my relationship with Justin.

"Dooon't! Daad, don't!" He whined.

I frowned, taking a gulp from my glass. "Don't, what? It's very important what I want to talk to you about."

Gus shifted uncomfortably. "Mom already gave me the sex talk when I walked in on them a few months ago."

My eyes widened and I choked on my drink.

I had no idea.

The sex talk? He was nine, for Christ's sake!

I hugged him to my side, wondering how much damage the munchers had done to my son.

"I was keeping that talk for when you were older. Truthfully, I was hoping your moms would get to you first, but I'm here in case you have any questions."

"They already did, so you don't have to explain anything to me. I got it. If I want to use it, I got to wrap it first."

Fuuuuck! I cringed. Fucking munchers.

"We can talk about that another time. If you have questions…in a few years…make sure to call me. Okay?" I lifted his head to stare into his eyes. He nodded solemnly. "Good. Now, I wanted to talk to you about Justin."

"What about him? Are you having second thoughts? Everyone is going to kill you, you know that, right?"

I snorted, rubbing his shoulder. "No, Sonny Boy. Be quiet for a minute. I have no idea how to ask you this."

His eyes lit up, and started nodding frantically. "Sure thing! I'll do it! It will be so cool!"

"To be quiet?" I raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes, before fixating them on mine. "To have Justin as my other dad. Isn't that what you wanted to ask?"

I choked on my spit. My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You developed mind-reading skills and didn't tell me?" I accused him lightly.

Gus grinned. "Yes. Like Rage. You know that saying: like father, like son."

He was having too much fun with this. He'd managed to catch me off guard.

"What?" I demanded. How the fuck does he know I'm Rage?

"Oh, come on, Dad! It's obvious. You're Rage, and Justin is JT. Not very original."

He knew too much. Shit. I could clearly remember how graphic the comic was, and still is.

Patting his cheek, I kept my voice light. "I'll let Justin and Michael know. They won't be impressed considering they were quite proud of the names."

"Uncle Michael is Zephyr, right?"

"Yeah, but let's not steer too far away from the subject. Are you sure about the other thing? It's something really serious and important."

"Actually, I wanted to ask him if he wanted, but after discussing with Mommy, we decided to ask on his birthday. She said it might overwhelm Justin today, so his birthday it is."

In my state of shock, I had to keep up with how he referred to his mothers. Mommy was Linz, and Mom was Mel. I wondered for how long he'd keep calling Linz like that, he was getting older and it might be embarrassing to call her mommy.

"I have a better idea," I declared. "Why don't you make it a wedding gift? I promise you won't overwhelm him. Make sure you dance with him at some point, and that's when you ask. Also, make sure you give him your reasons why you want him to be your dad. Knowing Justin, he'd think we put you up to this."

Gus gave me a pointed look. "You almost did, Dad."

"Don't be a brat." I pinched his stomach, making him squeal in laughter.

Ah, poor kid inherited my ticklish nature.

Gus punched my arm, still grinning. "It will be so cool to have two dads! I was getting jealous of J.R.!"

I returned the smile, hugging him close. "Oh, no. We don't want that."

We stayed like that for a while, with him tucked into my side as I finished my drink. When Gus stood abruptly, I gave him a confused look. He pointed to the clock.

"Time to get you married, Dad."

I laughed, kissed his head and then let him pull me out of my study and to the back yard. My knees weakened when we stepped outside, but I didn't let it show. I refused to accept today was turning me into a carpet muncher.

Justin's POV

The distance from the stables to the gazebo had never felt so long.

At least we had convinced Mom, we could walk together to the makeshift altar. If she had reached her goal of walking me down the aisle, I would have truly become the bride as everyone joked.

"Don't faint," Brian warned me, squeezing my hand.

I took a shuddering breath, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other.

"And smile. We're getting married, not murdered."

An involuntary smile spread on my lips. Trust Brian to make a joke about marriage on the way to the minister.

We walked slowly between the rows of seats I'd carefully arranged with Emmett. Contrary to the failed rehearsal, Brian was behaving himself, and it was him keeping the slow and steady pace.

For the ceremony, only our family and closest friends were present. Brian's clients and the people I met and befriended in New York were invited to the reception, which was going to start in about an hour.

As we passed Debbie, she gave us a watery smile. I tried to return it, but I wasn't sure if I succeeded. I'd never been so nervous in my whole life.

It was the most anticipated moment—I was marrying Brian, and I felt like I'd swallowed a hedgehog. At the same time, I was happy being there, having overcome so many bumps in our relationship. All of them led to this very moment.

We finally reached the minister. My legs felt like jelly. I preferred it when I was walking. I wasn't sure I could stand.

The minister was the same woman who'd married Mel and Linz. She presented us to our guests, as if they didn't know us. If they didn't, our names were on the invitations. She tried keeping a straight face when she mentioned the reason why we were gathered in our backyard.

I was sure, for many, it was still a shock Brian Kinney was settling down.

Brian kept his eyes on mine while the woman talked, our hands clasped between us. It kept me grounded.

When she announced we should exchange our vows, she prompted me to go first.

I never liked being the first in anything, and this wasn't the exception. I'd hoped Brian would say his first, but it wouldn't do to start an argument.

"I, Justin Tayl—" I broke off, laughing nervously when my voice cracked horribly. Fuck. It hadn't happened since I was a teen.

"Twat," Brian mouthed to me.

I squeezed his hands harder. Clearing my throat, I started again. "I, Justin Taylor, take you, Brian Kinney, to be my husband in sickness and in health, through good and bad times. I promise to love and cherish you for the rest of our lives. You showed me what love was and taught me all kinds of things I wouldn't repeat now." I grinned, turning to our guests, who started laughing. "I love you, Brian."

Brian's eyes were shining with tears. It was the first time he heard my vows. I'd insisted we didn't share them until the wedding day.

He gave me a smile, composing himself. "I, Brian Kinney, take you, Justin Taylor, to be my husband, life partner, significant other half. Why limit to one term?" He chuckled, when I raised an eyebrow in amusement. He was being a goof as always. "I need to correct you, though. You taught me and showed me what love is. You made me believe in love when times were dark. I promise to protect you, be there for you, support you, scold you when you're being a brat, and most of all, love you. Forever."

Holy shit.

I slipped a hand from his to wipe my eyes. I had promised myself not to tear up like some silly fag, but it was impossible.

The minister requested the rings, and Gus brought them over, sharing a smile with Brian as if they had an inside joke. They probably had.

Placing the ring on Brian's finger, and having him do the same to me, sealed the deal.

The rings and the vows were proof we belonged together. Forever.

Next thing I knew, the minister declared us married and announced to us that we could share our first kiss as a married couple.

I was aiming for a short kiss, but Brian attacked me. He wrapped his arms around me, pressing his mouth over mine, devouring my lips. I responded in kind, though I could feel my whole face burning.

One of his hands sneaked under my jacket, his fingers curling around my hip, while his other hand stayed on the back of my head. If we continued like this, we'd skip the reception and head upstairs. I sure was seconds away from undressing him.

Then our bubble burst when I heard Michael shouting. "It's a wedding, not an intro for a porno!"

There was a distinctive slapping sound, probably Debbie hitting her son; and there were also many laughs.

Brian separated from me, but he didn't go too far. He pressed his forehead against mine, sighing.

We didn't need words.

Grinning, I took his hand, walking back down the aisle. Our family was already heading to the tables we had placed there. I had no idea how big the backyard was until we managed to fit a few dozen tables, chairs and a make-shift dance floor, along with a station for the DJ.

Brian tugged me closer, wrapping my arm around his waist as he bent his head to kiss my temple. "You should be proud you married an ad man. If I wasn't so good at creating bullshit out of nothing and working wonders with my words, everyone would be in tears by now."

"Huh?" I caught his eye, genuinely confused. What is he onto?

"What I said back there?" He looked me in the eye seriously. I nodded, urging him to talk. "It was a whim's moment speech. I completely forgot what I wanted to say." He looked so sad, yet so proud of his oratory skills. "Fuck, and I had these great vows prepared."

I knew I should be supportive, and admire his stone nerves for keeping his calm and not panicking when he couldn't remember what he had planned to say, but I was too busy laughing my head off.

Brian glared, tugging at my ear lightly.

"Do you think she does annulments? I don't think I want to be stuck with a senile man for the rest of my life."

"You little shit!" Brian gasped, stopping his gait and stepping in front of me. He seized my chin, making me meet his eyes. It was hard to keep a straight face. "Can't you be proud of me?"

"Oh, I am. It was a great speech, though there was no bullshit."

"No, there wasn't," he admitted softly.

I grabbed him by the collar of his suit jacket and smashed my mouth to his. So what if we had guests to greet, that I could hear arriving? It wasn't often when Brian was so open and romantic. I had to cherish every moment he had his guard down.

Sometime later, we were leaning against our table—yes, we had our table, because Emmett insisted we needed it—as we talked to Michael, Ben and Debbie. My back was against Brian's chest, and one of his hands was around me, his thumb stroking my hip. We each had a glass of champagne in hand.

Michael stated for the fifth time in the span of ten minutes how weird it was to know we were married, that Brian had finally made that step. I let him drone on, while I looked around us.

Our backyard was filled with so many people, and I barely knew a quarter of them. All our guests were staying in groups and chatting.

I loved the way Emmett decorated. I should have known trusting him on the round tables was a great idea. All tables except ours, our table was rectangular and seated a few feet away from the others so we'd always be seen by everyone. They were all covered in pale lilac cloths with an assorted bouquet of flowers in the middle. A table could seat twelve people, and I had made sure to place them so they'd know each other, or at least have something in common to discuss. Especially Brian's clients; they were the tricky part, but with Cynthia's help I managed.

"We should mingle," I said, tilting my head to look at Brian. "Now, before everyone starts eating."

He cringed visibly. "We'll hold a speech later—thank everyone for coming."

"But it's polite to do it in person," I protested. Slipping out of his arms, I grabbed his hand, tugging at it. "You'll have to drink after every single person congratulates us."

"Now, you're talking!" He beamed, downing his glass and taking a fresh one from the table. "Sorry, guys. Groom duties." He flashed our friends a smile, before allowing me to lead the way to a group of his clients.

"Don't get drunk, though," I warned.

"Christ. Why did I fucking marry a WASP? Always polite and expecting to be on his best behavior." I stepped on his foot, making him curse loudly. "Fuck you, Taylor. My new shoes."

Of course. My beloved fashion queen at his best. "Part of the tradition, dear."

"We're not Jewish. Thank God for that."

"Oh, I see why the animosity toward Mel. In school, we were taught to respect variety in life which means no judging people by their religion, color, or political opinion."

"Not sexuality, too?" He asked mock-shocked.

I laughed, squeezing his hand. "Behave yourself," I whispered, kissing his cheek as we stopped next to his clients.

Brian introduced them as some of his oldest accounts, and how well they worked together over the years. Apparently, he'd known them ever since he worked for Ryder, which had been way back, even before we met.

They congratulated us, shaking our hands warmly and offering advices on how married life would treat us. I absolutely hated when people said everything would change. I knew it wouldn't.

Knowing Brian and me, there wouldn't be a boring moment. Even if we fought, we always made up in the most amazing ways.

We walked around the backyard, always keeping our glasses filled, smiling and shaking hands.

When we were done with Brian's clients, I found a small group that fit exactly at one table. They were the people I knew from New York, the ones that mattered anyway.

After our San Francisco impromptu run-in with Ethan, we had to honor our promise to send him and Simon an invitation. I never thought they'd actually come. While we talked to them, it was the most awkward five minutes of my life. It wasn't that I cared much for him, but the way he kept looking at me as if I'd gone mad, it made me want to punch him. All I could hope was he wouldn't hurt Simon, or he'd answer to me.

"I think that's it," Brian declared, downing his glass.

We were on our way back to our table, when Gus chose that moment to come crashing into Brian. He smiled toothlessly, his eyes dancing between me and his dad. "Now? Can I do it now?"

I was about to ask what they were talking about, but a new group approached us. I was dizzy after how many people we talked to and how much champagne I ingested in the past hour.

The grey haired woman stopped in front of us, giving Brian a stern look. She looked vaguely familiar. "The invitation must have gotten lost in the mail. I had to hear through the grapevine that you were getting married!"

As my eyes slid to the people behind her, realization came crushing down. This was Brian's family—the people he never talked about, the people he hated the most.

"Did Debbie tell you?" Brian asked in a clipped tone. "Well, if you were expecting to meet your daughter-in-law, you're in for a disappointment, mother! That is never going to happen!"

Joan Kinney met my eyes, and the look on her face made me feel like a bug she wanted to squish. "Actually, I heard it from Nancy. Lindsay's mom," she explained when Brian stared at her vacantly.

I wanted to kick his family out, knowing they were going to cause a scene, but it was Brian's call.

"How wonderful! Simply fabulous. You still keep in touch?" Brian sneered.

"We met at the hair dresser."

"Beautiful. Well, mother, since you're here…" He hugged me to his side. "…let me introduce you to my husband, your son-in-law, Justin. You met briefly some years ago. He was naked and eager to have me back in bed fucking him. I'm sure, all dressed he doesn't have the same impact. I'd know." He kissed my cheek soundly.

It had been a while since I'd seen his ugly face, but then again no one had upset him so much.

"Brian," I hissed, embarrassed. I decided to salvage the situation. "Mrs. Kinney. Claire." I looked at his sister. She twisted her nose as if she smelled something nasty. My eyes moved behind Claire.

"And let's not forget the devil's spawns—John and Peter," Brian added snidely. His eyes narrowed at John.

Both boys were looking curiously at Gus.

"Ah, yes." Brian placed a hand on Gus's shoulder. "This is your cousin, Gus. Sonny Boy, this is my mother, which makes her your grandmother; my sister, your aunt, and her children."

"Hi. Nice to meet you." Gus waved politely. It was definitely Lindsay's side of upbringing. Like Brian had joked earlier, WASPs were always polite.

"Are you a fag too?" John glared at Gus.

I saw Brian's hand clenching on his son's shoulder, and placed mine on top of his.

"That's none of your business. If he decides he likes boys, we'll love him the same." I took Gus's side.

"This poor child, Brian. I never understood why you brought him into this world. Lindsay and that… person aren't good for him. If you married Lindsay, he'd have normal parents." Joan looked upset.

"Yeah, well, I have no idea why you brought me into this world!" Brian barked. "And by the way, Gus has normal parents. In my concept, normal means having a heart, two legs and two arms, along with a healthy dose of insanity to have a child—someone you can't control, but you grow to love as you see him developing into his own person. This makes Linz and Mel, and Justin and me very normal."

"And I'm lucky to have what not many have," Gus quipped up. He kept his back straight, not taking any bullshit from Brian's family. "I have two sets of parents—two moms and two dads. I love them all a lot."

My heart stopped for a second, then started beating faster. Gus considered me his dad too.

We exchanged a huge smile, before I bent and picked him up. I didn't even care he was heavier than I could hold, but I wasn't about to let Gus go.

"I wanted to ask if you wanted to be my daddy too, but then that mean lady made me show her how lucky I am. You aren't mad, are you?" Gus checked, his eyes wide and honest.

I swallowed back my tears. "I'd be honored to be your dad, too." I pressed a kissed to his forehead.

He beamed at me, wrapping his arms around my neck tightly.

During our confession, Brian managed to get rid of his family. I met his eyes, the very same shade as Gus's, over his son's shoulder. He sucked on his lips, watching us with so much love, I'd never thought possible to feel that way—so cared for, appreciated, protected.

We took Gus back to his mommies, where he exclaimed he had a new dad. At Linz's confused look, Gus hugged me around the waist, grinning up at me. I stroked his hair, giving Lindsay a sheepish smile.

I had a feeling they'd all been onto this, but coming from Gus made the wish more believable.

"Ah, that's wonderful, honey! At last, you'll have a dad who isn't going to screw up." Mel pinched Gus's cheek.

"Bitch," Brian said between coughs. As if the distorted word wasn't heard loud and clear.

I took Brian to our table so the reception could start, and to placate a fight between him and Mel before it started.

"Are you happy?" He said into my ear as we sat down.

"I doubted my day could get any better. Seriously. I married you, what could top that?" I bit my lip, taking his hand and resting our linked hands on his lap. "Then your son comes and declares himself as my son in front of your family."

Brian shrugged. "Yeah, well. He's my son; standing up for himself and not afraid to speak his mind."

"You got that right."

After a few bites of the appetizers, there was a horrid sound from the DJ's box. When we looked over there, Michael had the microphone in his hand.

"I'm going to kill him," Brian hissed. "He fucking promised no speeches."

I placed my hand on his knee in hopes to keep him calm and seated.

Michael covered in his long speech the whole period of time he'd known Brian, ever since they were in high school until recent years, and how he'd changed and grown up. He talked about the time Brian met me, and how I managed to get under his skin. That statement got a loud groan from my husband, and a huge, proud smile from me. Michael skimmed over the most important aspects of our lives, without embarrassing us too much. When he was done, our guests raised their glasses to us.

"Drinking; good. Did I mention how much I love this part of the wedding?" Brian said under his breath, raising his whiskey glass then downing all its contents.

Between the courses, we danced—a lot.

We had our first dance as a married couple, which was definitely not a typical song a normal person would choose as their first dance at their wedding. Brian had come to me not too long ago, asking if I'd decided on a song for our dance.

I was pouring over the seating charts, moving people around after recently discussing with Cynthia about Brian's clients, when Brian appeared from behind me. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissing my neck sloppily.

"What are you doing?"

"Working on the seating plans. You? It's 2:57." I checked the clock in his study.

"Remind me to fire Steven. He fucked up again." Brian rested his chin on my shoulder, sighing loudly.

Steven, his event planner at Babylon. "What now?"

"It was a bad idea to bring back Sap's idea of fun in Studs N Suds. Steven, the fucking imbecile that he is, managed to turn the whole floor in an overflowing mess of bubbles. I haven't seen so many bubbles since I had the misfortune to experience Gus's joy of pouring half of the tube of Lindsay's scented bubbles in the bathtub. And he was five back then."

I frowned, turning my head to catch his eye. "He flooded the dance floor? Wasn't that supposed to happen in an inflatable pool?"

"Tell him that! I swear, no one does anything right if I don't supervise them." He rubbed his temple.

"Well, care to help me with these? They're your clients."

He peered at the papers in front of me, extracting the pen from my hand before changing a few names and removing some entirely.

"Say…" Brian said after a few moments. "Did you choose the song we're going to have our dance to?"

"Not exactly. I actually wanted to ask you. I have a few names written somewhere." I started shuffling through the myriad of papers on the desk. I was going to drown in them soon.

"Don't." He grabbed my hand. "I know the perfect one."

I eyed him warily, for a second expecting him to say the name of the song we had danced to at my prom.

"Do you remember what I told you when I first brought you here? When I proposed?" he asked softly, rising me to my feet and trapping me between his body and the desk.

I flushed at the memories. I had been in shock for hours.

"So, do you?" Brian raised an eyebrow.

"You said many things…"

He chuckled. "You asked if I bought the house, and I told you yes." He gave me an expectant look.

His words came back to me. "For my prince," I whispered, barely audible.

Smiling, Brian pressed further into me, nudging my nose with his. "I know what song I want to be ours. I haven't heard it in years, then I stumbled over it some time ago."

My mouth had gone dry. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I had a feeling I'd be in tears by the time he told me the name of the song.

Whatever Brian saw on my face made his smile slip. "Let me show you."

After he pulled the laptop closer, and typed in YouTube search bar, he beamed. Not a second later, the sweetest melody and Placebo started singing. I paid attention to the lyrics, but lost concentration after hearing exactly why he wanted that very song.

Never thought you'd make me perspire.
Never thought I'd do you the same.
Never thought I'd fill with desire.
Never thought I'd feel so ashamed.

Me and the dragon can chase all the pain away.
So before I end my day, remember…
My sweet prince, you are the one
My sweet prince
you are the one

"Brian," I choked out, wrapping my arms around him, burrowing my face into his neck.

"You don't like it."

"I do!" I titled my head to show him how much I loved his choice.

He smirked. "So, is this our song?"

I managed only to nod, unable to talk without bursting in tears.

Mom made sure to steal me right after my dance with Brian ended.

At least, Brian's DJ from Babylon wasn't a complete moron like his event organizer. He knew how to choose the songs. I'd given him a list, and besides the ones I highlighted, he was allowed to take liberties.

Daphne was next to steal me, then Debbie demanded she had waited long enough for this day to come and I had to make an old lady happy. I couldn't deny her, or anyone. I even coaxed Molly into joining me for one dance.

Before it was time to cut the cake, I was back in Brian's arms. We swayed on the slow song playing. I was grateful for the lazy beat, because my feet were about to fall off.

"Is this going how you wanted?" Brian ran a hand over my shoulder, smiling brightly.

"You kidding? It's so much better. Though, I'd like to take my shoes off."

He barked a loud laugh, before kissing me softly. "I'm not stopping you, but we don't want anyone to faint," he whispered.

"Asshole," I muttered, but laughed along.

Grinning, he smoothed the flower pinned to my breast pocket. It reminded me of a short while before the wedding had started, when he tugged me into his study. I was certain he wanted a quickie, just like Debbie who was yelling after us. Brian had paid her no mind as he locked the door behind us.

"Can't you wait until after the wedding?" I leaned against the door, mock-glaring.

Brian pulled something from his desk drawer, carefully unveiling the cloth in his hand and coming closer. He showed me his hand, palm up, where a small yellow flower lay. I recognized it immediately.

My breath caught as I searched his eyes, hoping I was seeing things.

I could clearly remember how difficult it had been to find Golden Gardenias from our last attempt at a wedding. Emmett had made sure to complain a lot about it.

"This is all I could find," Brian said in a low voice.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

He picked the flower gently between two fingers and smirking, he ran it under my nose. "Now, you're stuck to love me forever."

"Like there was any doubt!" I laughed nervously. "God, Brian!"

Looking as smug as ever, he pinned the flower to my chest.

"Where did you find this, anyway?" I asked, catching his eye as he twirled me around.

"I have my ways."

"Keeping secrets, already?" I pretended to be upset.

"Secrets spice things up, or so I heard."

"Things are already spiced up enough. I doubt we'll ever be that kind of couple…needing extra help to get in the mood. Sure, we already had some dull moments, if I can call them that, but we always make it fun. Seriously, between you and me…I doubt we'd need anything besides us." I moved closer, pressing into him. "You make me so hard."

"Just wait until the baby arrives."

"I bet we'll still have time for this. In the meantime, we should make the most of it."

Brian's POV

I was married.

Marriage—stuck with the same person for the rest of my life, headed down the doom road.

It was all I could think of, and every time panic overwhelmed me, I looked at my beautiful husband.

When did I get so lucky?

"What has you smiling so brightly?" Justin inquired, licking at the fork after eating the last bite of cake on his plate.

"You." I had never lied to him. Why start now?

"Me? I make you smile like that?"

"You always make me smile, Justin. Today more than ever." I pulled him closer, leaning for a kiss. He tasted of chocolate and champagne.

His fork fell to the ground as he moved to straddle me. His gesture made me freeze.

Did he somehow forget we're at our wedding? With our nearest and dearest watching.

He definitely did, or he wouldn't rub his delectable bubble butt over my dick, moaning wantonly in my mouth.

"Sunshine, can you wait a little while longer until we have our first fuck as a married couple? I'm sure there are people present that might object to seeing us…copulating."

"Shit." Justin pulled away, sliding over until he was sitting on my knees, watching me startled.

"You're too easy."

His blue eyes flashed. "You did not just call me easy!" He even poked a finger in my chest.

"Sure I did. I only have to look at you, and you'll be salivating for my dick."

"I really hate you." He pouted adorably, looking down. His cheeks were tinged with red. As much as I loved seeing him blush, I didn't mean to embarrass him.

I hugged him tightly, pressing my lips to his ear. "I love you."

Justin shivered violently, before going rigid in my arms. "Don't do that."

"Tell you how I feel?" I couldn't help but laugh. "Did you have a sudden change of heart?"

"Not this way. Don't hug me and say it in my ear like that. Not in public," he mumbled into my hair. What the hell? "It reminds me of…the first time you said it. Please."

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, stroking a hand over his back. Fuck. I had no idea he still felt so strongly about that night. We needed a distraction. "Do you want to throw the bouquet, so we can kick everyone out? We have a plane to catch in a few hours."

Smiling his sunny smile, Justin dismounted me, taking his bouquet. "Can't I just hand it over? It's so pretty." He stroked the delicate flowers.

"You need to throw it."

Pouting, he walked over to the microphone letting everyone who wanted the bouquet to know he was about to throw it.

Emmett was the first in line, making everyone laugh.

Justin flashed me a huge smile as he turned his back to our guests. Closing his eyes, he threw so hard the flowers flew above the front people in the crowd. The bouquet landed in Debbie's empty plate.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed in typical fashion.

Justin cringed, whirling around, staring at her in surprise.

"It's never too late for a change of career. You'd make an awesome football player. I'm sure Drew can put in a good word for you," I commented, trying and failing to hide my amusement.

"I think it's a sign, Ma. Let Carl make an honest woman out of you," Michael said seriously.

"Yes, Debbie. You should get married. You've been engaged for six years," Ben added.

"Yes, Debbie." I nodded in agreement, standing up. "Even I got married!"

She narrowed her eyes at me, then pointed a finger at Justin. "You've done this on purpose!"

He shook his head mechanically, looking bewildered.

"I call a rematch. Try again. I stand my ground. Until the USA accepts that you're married, I'm not doing it." She brought the bouquet back to Justin.

Carl looked pretty sad, but knew that with Debbie, nothing could change her mind.

"Jeez. Okay. Who the fuck throws the bouquet twice? Better yet, who the fuck doesn't accept it?" Justin muttered, turning his back to everyone once again. Catching my eye, he shook his head before throwing again, slower this time.

My mouth dropped when I saw the flowers hitting Jennifer in the face.

"Don't turn around!" I advised, already walking to him.

Curious, he did…then paled.

I had no idea who looked worse—Justin or Tucker.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want it, Debbie?" Justin asked half joking.

"Positive, sweetie. Your mom deserves to be happy, too." Debbie smiled at Jennifer.

I let Justin deal with the mess he made while I played good host to the guests who started leaving. If I thought it was tiring to greet them and accept their congratulations earlier, it was ten times worse saying good-bye. After an almost never-ending stream of people, only the family was left.

I went to my chair and fell in it, stretching my legs under the table.

Gus appeared next to me, mimicking my stance, in Justin's chair. He kept his head tilted up, staring at the sky.

It was quite late, and I could see how worn out he was, but he'd refused all our attempts at making him go to sleep in the guest room. His excuse was how many times does my dad get married? I had to hand it to him, he was a smart kid.

"Tired yet?" I asked, turning my eyes to the starry sky as well.

Until I moved into our house here on the outskirts of the city, I had no idea there were so many stars, or how beautiful they were, or how peaceful it was to look at them.

"Maybe a little," Gus answered, yawning into his hand.

"The guestroom is still waiting for you."

He rubbed his eyes. "Nah. Mommy said we're going to Uncle Mike's in a few."

I'd insisted Lindsay and Mel stay over. The house would be empty for two weeks. They could use it for the next few days they were visiting, but no. They wanted to stay at Michael's.

"Though, I'll hang on to your offer for the next time J.R. drives me nuts."

I laughed. "She's your sister, Sonny Boy. That's their special trait—to annoy their brothers."

"Did your sister annoy you too?"

I walked right into that. A conversation I never wanted to have with him. "Yeah, but let's not talk about it." Desperate to steer him away from questions about my family, I found the perfect distraction. "Take Justin for instance." I pointed to where he was talking to his mother, sister, and Tuck. "When we met, he didn't like his sister very much. Look at them now."

Justin had an arm around Molly, as he laughed at something Jennifer said. For a brief period of time, back when we met, I was sure he'd turn into a younger version of me at the rate his parents were going. Then Jennifer surprised me by accepting her son for who he was. Every time I saw them together it made me happy, it proved that not all parents were assholes.

"Huh. They look close," Gus said quietly.

"You should ask for tips." I pinched his side. "See how he survived with her for so many years."

"I might do that." He nodded, grinning at me. "Do you think Jus is okay with what I asked him?"

"Gus, didn't you see how happy he was when you asked? I doubt anyone could make him as happy as you by asking him to be your dad. He's really honored you considered him worthy for that title. Also, knowing him, he's scared shitless too."

"I don't want him to change, or anything. Justin has always been there…all my life. You two were always together. I don't remember a time where you weren't."

There were a few, but I chose not to burden him with our fall-outs. "I see what you mean. Well, you must know that we both love you very much, and Justin is really happy to be your dad too."

Gus shifted closer with his chair, resting his head against my arm. "The stars look really pretty from here. I don't see them much back home."

Back home. That gutted me. His home should be here in Pittsburgh where I could see him whenever I damn wanted, not miles away, in another fucking country.

"You know what to do if you like the sight. Visit more often." I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him even closer, kissing his head. I refused to turn mushy, but fuck did I ever miss him.

"Do you know about the constellations? I saw this cool TV show about it."

"I can't say I know much about the stars."

He settled better against my chest, raising a hand and drawing invisible lines on the sky, telling me all about the crazy named constellations. I smiled proudly, hugging him tightly.

Arms wrapped around both of us from behind. "How are my favorite people in the world?" Justin whispered, planting a kiss on each of our cheeks.

"I'm teaching Dad astrology," Gus responded distracted. "Do you know about it?" He glanced at Justin.

"Yeah, I know. I always liked looking at the stars."

Gus's eyes lit up. "Come, watch with me."

"You moms say it's time to go," Justin said reluctantly.

"I'll stall them. You two stargaze." I got up, pointing to my vacated seat. "Sit, Sunshine."

Justin looked between me and Gus, who had an expectant look on his face, and nodded in agreement.

I went to Lindsay who was a few feet away from Michael and his family. I lit up a smoke, and bumped into her shoulder as I stopped next to her.

"Christ, Brian!" She jumped.

"Why are you standing here abandoned?"

"I'm waiting for our son!"

"He'll be here soon. If he can separate from his new daddy who shares his love for astrology."

Lindsay groaned. "Don't tell me he got Justin hooked."

"He already was, apparently. There are still things I had no idea he liked."

"Because you never talk to him. You just fuck."

I gasped. "How you wound me, Wendy."

Lindsay stole the smoke from my hand, patting my cheek. "You're all grown-up now, Peter. Marriage comes with responsibility."

I smirked, thinking of what I had told Michael earlier. "Indeed."

"I'm happy for both of you."

"It was time I pulled my head out of my ass, don't you think? I can't remember a time I didn't love Justin, though it took me a while to figure out what I was feeling, and even longer to admit it to myself, let alone anyone else."

"Now, you're stuck with him. For life."

"It's not as scary as it might have been once. I'm actually looking forward to this new life," I admitted.

Justin brought a sleepy Gus to us. He went straight to Linz, hugging her and yawning.

"We better go." She looked between Justin and me, but I held my hand. "No goodbye," she said as if reading my mind.

We joined the other group comprised of Michael, Ben, Hunter, Mel and J.R., and Debbie.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay and help clean up?" Debbie checked.

"Emmett will be back in the morning to take care of everything. I think we'll catch some sleep before we have to go to the airport," I said, rubbing her shoulder.

"Okay then. Make sure you actually leave the hotel room of wherever you are going," she advised us. "Pull him out by the hair if needed." She winked at Justin.

"It will be my pleasure." Justin grinned, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"And we'll see you at Christmas?" Melanie raised an eyebrow.

"Might be sooner. I don't want to break the tradition of dropping by around Gus's birthday," I answered. "It all depends on Sunshine's show."

"I think we can have a few days off at the end of September."

"Good. It's settled." I ruffled Gus's hair who beamed at us.

While they got in their cars—Michael's and the rented one Mel was driving—Michael lingered. "Do you want me to come back and drive you to the airport?"

I was about to say no, when Justin nodded. "We don't want to leave the car there. Right?" He gave me a stern look. "Why pay for it to collect dust in their parking lot when Michael offers to be our chauffeur?"

"Fine, but you must pick us up when we return too," I warned him.

"I was about to suggest you walk back." Michael rolled his eyes. "See you in a few. Do try to sleep. You look exhausted."

I scowled after him.

Alone at last. Justin took my face in his hands, kissing me deeply. "This was the most beautiful day…and night…of my life."

I squeezed him tightly. "I'm glad I could make your dream come true."

Justin's POV

I checked and double-checked everything necessary was packed; especially when I had no idea where we were going. Judging by the light clothes Brian had put in the three suitcases, I guessed it was somewhere warm.

It was time to find out our destination, only to make sure we'd have everything we might need. And seriously? Three suitcases full of clothes? Brian could be such a label queen.

It took me a few minutes to find him.

Brian was slouched on the couch in the living room, his legs kicked up on the coffee table and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. His left hand was stretched out in front of him, his eyes fixed on it; most likely on the ring.

We'd worn the rings ever since he proposed back in New York, but it seemed different now that it was official.

"Hey." I plopped down next to him, taking his left hand and kissing the top of it. "Everything okay?"

His hazy eyes found mine, and a smile stretched on his face. He was notorious for drinking like a fish, but it seemed he'd had one too much tonight.

"Sure. Why do you ask?" He leaned his head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"You've been a little…I don't know…off? Ever since everyone left, you disappeared. Already cheating on me with Jim?"

He chuckled. "It's been a long night."

"That's true." I snuggled closer, slowly working on the small buttons at his wrist. "How about a shower?"

"I know you'll think I'm crazy," he said seriously.

"I'll never. What is it, Brian? Tell me." He was starting to scare me. I rubbed my thumb over his wrist, in hopes to relax him.

"Just don't laugh. Promise me," he demanded.

I rolled my eyes, expecting some silly statement. He was probably worried we wouldn't fuck ten times a week anymore, and we'd cut back to seven or less. Like that was the case.

Brian caught my pinky with his, looking dead serious. "Swear on the memory of Marilyn Monroe."

"Oh my God!" Such a drama queen. "Okay, okay. I swear on the memory of Marilyn Monroe."

He relaxed visibly. Still clutching my pinky, he confessed, "I have no clue what's appropriate to do now. Where should we have our first time as a…married couple? I imagined it would be in Ib…uh, on our honeymoon. But I don't think I can wait that long. Is the bed the best option? I mean, it will feel odd to do it in the shower, or against the wall, or even right here…on the fucking couch. Right?"

At that point, I wasn't expecting to be involved in the conversation. I thought it was one of those monologues where one babbled about stuff and the other listened.

Though, Brian never babbled. He never had, not even when he was nervous, which meant he was more than nervous at the moment. He was fucking clueless, something that didn't occur often.

If I laughed, we'd probably experience our first married argument, before the first married sex. I couldn't have that, so I bit hard on my lip.

In such moments when he didn't believe in himself and he felt like he let people down, it was on me to make him see sense, and what a queen he was. It usually involved screaming at him.

"Do you hear yourself?" I snapped, dropping his hand on his lap.

Mock-anger should do the trick to snap him out of his funk. It also kept me from rolling on the floor in laughter.

Instead of getting upset, Brian shrunk further, answering in a small voice, "I have no idea what I'm doing, Justin. I want this to be perfect."

"Brian, you're overthinking this! Don't allow this ring to dictate our relationship. That's what made you hate and reject the idea of marriage for years! I can see why. You don't have to change! I don't want to fuck on the fucking bed!"

"You don't?" He met my eyes, perplexed.

"No!" I stood, hands on my hips. "This isn't my first time. You were sweet back then, which I'm grateful for. Now…well, now…I want you to take me wherever the fuck you want, however the fuck you want, and show me how much you love me! No romance or bullshit. Romance is for dykes."

Brian put the bottle on the floor, and when I thought he was going to stand up too, he hunched over, burrowing his face in his hands. "When did I become such a breeder?"

God help me. I crouched in front of him, pulling his hands away to see his face. Surprisingly, there was no poker face on, he was truly confused and fighting with himself over what was right to do.

I never thought I could fall in love with him again, but I did—every day; especially at that very moment when he put my feelings and needs above himself and his beliefs. I wanted to smother him in hugs and kisses, but I also needed to bring my asshole husband back from this mellow version of him. He was acting like the first time he proposed to me, five years ago. I couldn't have that.

"It's okay to be worried about such things." He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly amused. "I mean, about where should we fuck for the first time, or how. I always want you to show me your romantic side. I know you have one, and it's very nice seeing it every once in a while." I kissed his cheek softly. "But it's still us, Brian. We don't have to change just because we're married."

I must have said the right thing, because slowly, Brian unbuttoned his other cuff, then slowly as he stood he worked on taking his tie off. "Did you say something about a shower?" My favorite Kinney smile was tugging at his lips.

"There you are!" I beamed, throwing my arms around his neck. "I feared for a second I lost you again, and the aliens had abducted you a second time."

"Not a chance in hell, Sunshine."

Shrugging out of his shirt and abandoning it on the couch, Brian pulled me after him by my collar. I always liked this playful side of him.

When we arrived in the bathroom, Brian tugged at my buckle belt, then unzipped my pants violently, his mouth at my neck.

"Let's not tear our clothes," I said calmly.

"You're over-dressed." He was a man on a mission, and the mission was to undress me. Leaving my pants hanging open, he loosened my tie, before tearing my shirt. The buttons flew everywhere, and it was as hot as I thought it would be…hearing the fabric ripping and the small buttons hitting the walls and floor. "For once in my life, I don't give a fuck about clothes."

I was too shocked by his words to react.

I knew he'd regret destroying a few-hundred-dollars worth shirt, so I decided to step in before he had a chance to rip anything else. After I made sure our pants and boxers were salvaged, I was ready to let him take the lead.

Brian pushed me into the shower, kissing me deeply, his hands buried in my hair. My own hands roamed over his chest, settling above his heart. It was beating fast.

He stopped his attack, pressing his forehead onto mine, nudging my nose with his. "Justin."

"Yeah?" I locked my arms behind his neck.

He smiled softly. "I'm making sure this actually happened."

"Do you want me to pinch you?"

Brian narrowed his eyes, telling me with no words to not even dream of it. "Do you want me to spank you?" He threw back mockingly.

I grinned into his shoulder, tightening my arms around his neck. "You know I secretly love it."

"Secretly? I thought everyone knew what a kinky boy you are." His right hand travelled down the length of my body, and when I succumbed to the nice feeling, he gave me a sharp smack on my ass.

"Brian!" I twisted my head to see the white imprint of his hand on my red skin.

"You so love it!"

"Maybe so, but right now I'd like to feel you inside me. Fuck me hard against the wall. Make me scream your name."

"Christ," he muttered under his breath. A second later, I was facing the wall.

Instead of his fingers, I got his tongue in my ass. He held me still as he rimmed me slowly. I knew what rimming was in his book—hours upon hours of torture, before he fucked me so hard I saw stars. Sadly, we didn't have hours upon hours. We had a plane to catch in a few hours.

"Can you cut the teasing?" I begged, my eyes crossing in pleasure as his tongue technique brought me closer to the release I knew he'd deny me.

Thankfully, Brian pulled away. He kissed up my spine, inserting two fingers into me as his lips pressed to my ear. "You greedy little shit."

"We're on a tight…ah, schedule. Once we get there…oh, fuck…wherever you are taking me…you can take your sweet time."

I turned around when Brian reached for a condom. His hand wavered a little as if he wasn't sure he wanted the rubber. I watched confused as he opened it slowly, and smiled a self-satisfied smile as he rolled it on his dick. I was too horny to analyze his gestures, though.

Still smiling, he lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. Maintaining eye-contact, he pushed inside me.

Fuck.

I let out a loud moan, closing my eyes at the slight pain from the lack of proper preparation. It reminded me of my first time, and how Brian told me there was always some pain; it was part of the game.

"You were so hot that night."

I snapped my eyes open to stare at him in surprise. Did I say it out loud?

"You get this look on your face…whenever you think of our first time. You were thinking of that, weren't you?" He rocked our hips gently, pressing me further into the tile behind me.

I stroked his cheek. My heart grew tenfold when he leaned into my touch. "Using your mindreading power on little, defenseless JT?"

Brian laughed, burrowing his face into my neck. "You're anything but little and defenseless."

His arms held me tightly to his chest as he moved slowly in and out of me. The shower had been one of the places we had never made love, because frankly I had no idea we could do it there. Of course, Brian proved me wrong.

I ran my fingers through his dark, wet locks, tugging his head back so I could see his face better. The look of pure ecstasy that crossed his face made me almost forget what I wanted to say.

I had tried reminding him some time ago, but this was the perfect moment to bring it up.

"How much do you remember?" I asked, arching into him when he hit my prostate on a particularly hard thrust.

"The most important parts…the sex. Didn't we talk about this already?"

"Yes, we did."

"Why are you asking then? Now of all times?"

"You said something…I never told you." I smoothed my thumb over his creased brows. He eyed me warily. "Right after you came…you said…you actually growled it, but the actual words left your mouth. Little did I know, I'd have to wait four more years and almost die a couple of times to hear them again."

Brian froze. I was pretty sure he already knew what I was talking about.

"You told me you loved me, and you were smiling. I can't forget your face." I closed my eyes, going back to that beautiful moment.

His snort brought me back to present. "Course you can't forget my face—you see me every day."

He picked up speed, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. It was his way of shutting me up.

Fuck. Have I said too much?

Did he feel that way from the beginning? Did he like me back then?

It had always bugged me, and we never discussed it properly. But it wasn't the time or the place to discuss it. Though, I was curious.

My legs slipped when we came, and only Brian's weight was keeping my upright.

"It was the drug," Brian said softly, almost remorseful.

"You can't fool me. We're already married. I won't think less of you if you admit it was love at first sight for you too."

"We discussed this, Sunshine. It was lust at first sight. My dick chose you. I was done for that night, then you appeared in front of me."

"Oh, must have been fate." I laughed humorlessly, rolling my eyes. "You said the words, Brian. I heard them. You can't take that back."

"Must have slipped out. Seriously, I was so fucked up that night, I'm surprised I remember about our first time and meeting Gus."

"So you didn't mean it?" I could hear my voice breaking.

Sighing loudly, Brian pulled me out of the shower. He wrapped me in a towel and used a smaller one for my face and hair. "Falling for you was a long process, especially when I kept repelling all these new feelings. Then I almost lost you, and I realized how important you were to me."

I grinned, proud he admitted at least that part. "I always get what I want. Mom used to tell me I am too cunning."

"I wouldn't say cunning, but persistent works. I remember how your presence used to annoy the shit out of me, then one day that changed. You amused me. You were set to have me again. And you did."

"Now, I have you forever! " I wrapped my arms around him, peppering kisses on his strong jaw. "What am I going to do with you?"

"If I annoy you too much, you're allowed to push me out the window." Brian winked.

"No, that would be too easy. I'll have to annoy you right back."

"You wouldn't be the brat I fell in love with if you didn't."

His declaration was ruined by the ringing of the doorbell.

"That's Michael." Brian grabbed his bathrobe, slipping it on, on his way out.

Brian's POV

By the time all our bags were in the Jeep, I was ready to crash.

Justin pushed me into the backseat, demanding I get some shut-eye until we reached the airport. I wanted to protest, but the leather seat was so inviting.

I didn't really sleep, because I was aware of everything around me. Sitting there slouched gave me a sense of relaxation, and took some of the tiredness away.

"Pick them up when you come back from the airport. Don't forget their food. I wrote you a list of what they need, and what you need to do."

"Justin, can you stop freaking out? I can take care of your pets for two weeks."

"If something happens to Cupcake…or that cat…I-I-I know where you live!"

Low. Really low, Sunshine. I stifled a smile, tucking my chin in my chest.

One of the front doors opened and someone got in, but I kept my eyes shut.

This was actually fun. I was curious what they'd be talking about if they thought I was asleep.

The front door slammed shut, just as the trunk door opened and something was thrown in there. It jostled me, and I shifted in a better position, resting my head against the window.

Michael, as I figured it was him in the car, turned the engine on.

The passenger's door opened and shut behind Justin. I heard the seatbelt unrolling then snapping into place. When a hand touched my knee, I tried my best not to jump a mile, but it did startle me.

"He's sleeping." I heard Justin confirming with relief in his voice.

"I bet he's tired. Didn't you get any sleep before I returned? No. Don't answer. Stupid question."

I bit on my lips, wondering if I could keep up pretense if they kept making me laugh at every turn.

Ah, Mikey. What am I going to do with you?

"If it makes any difference, we relaxed on the couch for a while," Justin said.

Maybe you relaxed, Sunshine. I was too busy going out of my mind.

"Any moment you get to relax counts. I'm sure Brian's not used to have sleepless nights anymore."

"And let's not forget about…his age," Justin whispered, but I heard him.

The little shit was going to get a red behind for that comment.

"Watch it, Wonder Boy! Don't mock the elders!"

Well done, Mikey. Now I'm an elderly.

If I could wrap my hands around his neck…

"What about you? Did you get any sleep?" Justin asked through a yawn.

I couldn't wait to get on the plane. We were both going to sleep across the ocean.

"Nah. Between getting our guests settled and Hunter spilling the honey jar on the kitchen floor, we barely had time to breathe."

"What the fuck was he doing with the honey?"

"He's been constipated for days, and Ben suggested he eat honey. I told him to use the stool if he can't reach something…which is an amazement considering he's taller than me. Anyway, he didn't. The jar tipped over and…hello disaster!"

"Never a quiet moment, huh? You know our offer still stands, right? You can bring Mel and Linz over to our house."

"I'll remind them."

They fell quiet, and the sound of the engine combined with the soft song on the radio lulled me into sleep.

I came around to Justin's muffled laughter. Cracking an eye open, I noticed our surroundings. Still about ten minutes until the airport.

"Tell me I'm wrong!" Michael demanded, sounding clearly amused.

"You are! And please, let's keep these jokes to a minimum. What if he wakes?"

I quickly closed my eye, worried he might look over his shoulder.

"What? I'm wrong? You mean Brian had to take the blue pill at some point in his life?" Michael chortled.

I had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about, and I wanted to bang their heads together.

"Yes. Let's leave it at that. And he didn't have to…I stole them from someone," Justin admitted sheepishly.

Mikey burst out in laughter, not stopping when Justin shushed him, worried I might wake.

"You stole someone's Viagra? Was it your father's?" He asked between chuckles.

"Ewww! No!"

"Then? Give me details. Zephyr and JT stick together."

I could almost hear Justin rolling his eyes.

"It was Ted's. Remember when he took it and his woody wouldn't go down for…hours? I took a few pills from him. It wasn't like we needed it, but I was curious."

"Oh my God! Why hasn't no one told me about this?"

"Since when do you care about our love life? Anyway, the effect lasted for hours. Many, many hours. I swear, we were exhausted and Brian was still hard."

"May I ask how did it go away?"

"His mom. She visited," Justin said solemnly.

Michael let out another loud laugh. "Joan Kinney—Wood Killer."

Yeah, sure. Laugh away, but it was scary as fuck, and most of all her unannounced visit had made me angrier than I'd been in months. She always had a special trait to make me so angry I wanted to kill her.

"Hey, that's a good name for a new villain! He can try affecting JT and Rage's love life." Justin ruffled through his bag, most likely for a paper and a pen.

"Oh, yes! When you come back, we need to work on the new issue."

"Definitely. And Brian promised to throw a party for Rage's return."

The things I did for my crazy friends…

"Again? He's thrown a lot of superhero themed parties. Do you think he secretly likes comics too?" Michael joked.

"He loves us."

I couldn't have said it better, Sunshine.

"Oh, look. We're here. Time to wake the snoring monster."

I wanted to smack Michael. I don't snore!

When Justin talked, his voice came closer to me than I expected. "I think he's coming down with something. He doesn't usually snore."

The fuck? Did I actually snore? Shit.

"Hey, wake up, Brian." A gentle hand shook my knee, before sliding down to grasp my calf. "We're here."

I moved away from his touch, curious of what he'd try next.

"Maybe we should leave him here. We can run away on an adventure to Ibiza!"

"MICHAEL!" I yelled. He couldn't keep a secret to save his life. My eyes slid to Justin. "Can Rage please kill Zephyr in the next issue?"

"Sure." He gave me a radiant smile.

Was it possible for him not to have heard Michael? I really hoped so.

Mikey apologized quietly as he helped me unload our bags from the trunk. I waved him off, scowling.

Justin was going to find out anyway. I couldn't keep it a secret much longer.

After a tearful goodbye—tearful for Justin and Michael, of course—as if we weren't coming back, I led my husband inside the airport.

We stopped at the board displaying the flights. Our layover was in New York, so he couldn't see the real destination. All through check-in, Justin kept fidgeting, and I knew he'd start asking questions soon.

I didn't have to wait long.

When we were seated in first class, with our drink of choice in hand, Justin turned to face me, grinning from ear to ear.

"Ibiza, huh?"

"You heard that?" I tried to act nonchalant.

He raised an eyebrow, reading through my bullshit. "You wanted to take me there before but….I lost the bet."

I took his hand, squeezing it. "Don't be too upset. Winning the bet saved my life." I tugged him closer, kissing him softly. "Maybe we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that doctor."

Justin put his head on my shoulder, sighing. "I'm glad you won the bet, too. Though, I had him. If you hadn't come to tell me about Vic…I'd have left with him."

"Sure you did." I laughed, rubbing his arm.

"If we're going new places together…"

"Yes?"

"I still want to go skiing with you. Not Vermont," he added quickly. "Somewhere else."

"The Alps?" I joked.

"I was thinking continental United States, but whatever you want."

"Hmm…it doesn't sound bad at all. Not to sound like a muncher or anything, but I'd like to sit in front of the fireplace with you and have some hot cocoa."

"We can do that at home, too. And hot cocoa? Really?"

"What's wrong with that?" I defended myself. I honestly thought he'd appreciate the thought.

"I never took you as a hot cocoa guy. Anyway, you seem to be dodging this skiing thing. Are you afraid of falling on your ass?"

"If you must know, I've never skied. I tried skating once when I was younger, and ended up with more bruises than my usual amount on a better day."

After a long, interminable minute of silence where I kicked myself for saying too much, for allowing that part of my life to slip out so casually, Justin relaxed into my side.

"I'll teach you. It's fun."

I was grateful he didn't make a big deal of what I told him. I hadn't meant to say so much, but the words tumbled out of my mouth. I knew there would be a day we'd sit down and I'd tell him about my fucked-up family, but now wasn't the time or place. I hoped that day wouldn't come in this lifetime.

Justin's POV

Ibiza.

Brian was taking me to Ibiza. Fucking Ibiza!

I couldn't stop smiling. Or hugging and kissing him.

Though, my joy was fast replaced by fatigue once we changed planes. I made sure to snuggle close to him as I closed my eyes, letting sleep take me. Brian held my left hand in his lap, twisting my ring over and over.

We were jerked awake somewhere above the ocean by the captain's voice telling us to buckle up because we might experience turbulences.

I didn't want to separate from Brian, but we both obeyed reluctantly to the orders. He didn't let go of my hand, holding it tightly until we were allowed to remove the safe belts again.

Brian leaned closer. "Do you have to use the toilet?" He gave me an expectant look, his eyes wide with excitement.

I shook my head, confused at his question.

"I do," he said firmly.

"Okay…" I let go of his hand so he could get up.

"Don't take too long," he whispered in my ear before getting up and making his way to the toilet.

I wanted to protest and remind him I didn't need to piss, then I realized his intention. Blushing, I stared after his retreating form. His swagger forced my eyes to his ass.

Most of the people around had definitely seen him. If I got up and followed, they'd know. If I didn't, he'd wait there for me, and some poor unsuspecting fellow might end up tugged in the toilet with Brian.

They might not object being in a crammed space with a hot guy, but I'd definitely object.

That thought made up my mind.

Trying to act as nonchalant as I could, I walked down the aisle, totally aware of my red face and wobbly feet. I tried the door, and it opened. I slipped inside, locking it behind me.

There was no room to breathe, let alone move.

"I've changed my mind," I said, shifting from one foot to another.

"No mile high sex?" Brian breathed on my face, his hands already under my shirt.

"No. I doubt this will work."

"Trust the expert. Get here in front of the sink. Put your hands on the wall. Bend over a little."

Confident little fucker.

I moved as he said, surprisingly it was easy. He stepped behind me, opening my pants skillfully and letting them pool at my ankles, along with my boxers.

I jerked forward, not expecting his cold fingers inside me without any warning. He took a few moments to stretch me, while he handed me a foil to rip open. I deftly unwrapped the condom and handed it to him at my hip. As soon as he had it rolled on his dick, he was inside me, his arms around my torso, only his hips moving.

"How often did you do this?" I rasped out. He felt too comfortable with the situation.

"Only a handful of times. Bad experiences taught me the best position."

"Well, make the most of this experience. It's the first and last you get from me."

"We're going to fly other places together, Sunshine. This is definitely not the last time."

"I hate crammed spaces! You know that."

His mad fuck skills brought me a satisfying release, but I still wasn't convinced to become a member of Mile High Club.

Brian ripped a handful of toilet paper, putting it into my hand after focusing on cleaning himself.

"If I wanted thrill in our sex life, we could go to the Backroom of Babylon, or an elevator, or even the diner's bathroom," I mumbled, throwing the paper in the trashcan.

"Okay, okay. Mile High Club crossed off the list. Now let's get out of here in a blaze of glory."

Once I was done rearranging my clothes, Brian opened the door and pulled me out by the hand. I kept my head down, stumbling after him until we reached our seats, where I slouched low and wished to become invisible.

Brian shot me an exasperated look, signaling the flight attendant to bring us another round of drinks.

"I married a prude," he grumbled, once he had his whiskey in hand.

I bumped my knee into his, glaring. He knew I was game for all kinds of crazy adventures, but sex in a plane was definitely not my thing.

oOo

When we arrived at the hotel, I was dead tired. The few hours we'd managed to sleep on the plane weren't enough, plus the jet lag made me want to find the first available empty spot, curl in it and sleep for a week.

Brian seemed more alert, but I guessed he'd crash as soon as we were in our room. While he sorted our stay and names at the reception desk, I sat in one of the comfy plush seats in the lobby, surrounded by our bags.

I could see the sun setting through the ceiling to floor wall glass, but not even that beautiful sight could impress me. I'd have time to admire it over the next two weeks.

"Come." Brian appeared at my shoulder, squeezing it softly. He seized two heavy suitcases, and I grabbed the other one along with my trusty backpack and laptop bag.

We walked into the elevator, dropping the bags. Brian pressed the button to the top floor. Of course, he'd gone all out.

"You tired?" He smoothed my wrinkled shirt.

I slapped his hand. "The presidential suite?" I wondered if he could do anything without being obscenely loud and going overboard.

"How did you guess?" He used that sweet mocking voice, which made me want to smack sense into him.

I rolled my eyes. "I know you too well. Anyway, to answer your question, yes. I'm tired."

"Then we'll sleep. We have time for other things later." He winked, making me laugh. Bending his head, he pressed his cheek to mine, staying like that until the elevator pinged, announcing we had arrived at our destination.

Brian unlocked the door, and surprised me by sweeping me off the floor and carrying me inside. In my quest for something to hold onto, I managed to elbow him in the shoulder, but he didn't seem upset. He didn't stop until he reached the bedroom where he dropped me on the expensive duvet, covering the bed.

"Don't you dare fall asleep, Sunshine!" He rushed away to get our bags.

I kicked my shoes, making them fly on the other side of the room, before I relaxed on the soft bed. After so many hours on the plane, my body was thrumming, and all muscles aching.

The bed shifted as Brian threw himself next to me, pulling me into his arms and giving me a loud smooch on the neck. I let it slide, and blamed his odd behavior on tiredness, and probably euphoria of having me all to himself.

"You don't mind if we just sleep?" I had to check.

"I'd rather fuck you while you're awake and responsive. I had you falling asleep during sex before, and I don't want to re-experience that shit."

"Christ. That was years ago, Brian. When I started working on Rage with Michael."

"Exactly. You have no idea how humiliating it was to have my partner bored to sleep while I was getting him ready for sex."

"Humiliating?" I asked incredulously. "Oh, I guess it was a first for you." I laughed, pinching his cheek.

"It had never happened before or after," he confirmed in a serious voice.

"What can I say? I'm special like that." I rolled on top of him, kissing along his neck. "Seriously, if I stop responding in the next five seconds it's because I fell into a comatose sleep." I snuggled closer, breathing into him. It wasn't the most pleasant smell, but it was still all Brian—my husband.

He shifted around, managing to push the duvet to the foot of the bed, before coaxing me into taking my clothes off.

When we were down to our boxers, he pulled a thin blanket over us. I snuggled into his arms, succumbing to sleep.

oOo

The sun warming my feet woke me up many hours later. Brian had the blanket rolled around him as he lay on his stomach, snoring loudly. He was never allowed to call me a blanket thief.

As for the sounds he was making, they had me worried. I truly hoped he wouldn't get sick now. He usually wheezed in his sleep, which I happened to find adorable. Of course, I never told him that. I treasured my life too much.

Stretching my legs, I draped an arm over him, enjoying having him close, all warm and squishy.

I couldn't go back to sleep.

Brian's snores and my overactive brain wouldn't let me relax enough to doze off.

I ran the tips of my fingers over his arm as I reflected back on the best day of my life.

I grew up dreaming one day I'd get married, and imagining how great it would be. Then I learned about weddings for fags. The first time I truly grasped how cruel and uncaring of our feelings some people were, was when Michael and Ben got married.

I'd heard their story from all points of view, and the worst part was at the border when they weren't allowed back in our Dream Land because they had the same last name. Michael and Ben had tried not to show how affected they were by the whole situation, but I could tell that their happiness from getting hitched in Toronto was long gone by the time they got home. Their faces showed exactly how everyone who wanted to get married and couldn't, felt. The worst part of it was that they had gotten married legally, only to be denied that right in their own country.

But I was past believing I'd ever get married. After all, my partner was Brian. He was vehemently opposed to the idea of marriage or any commitment at all.

It took another near-death experience for me to make him admit he loved me; to rethink his life and move past everything he strongly believed in. Or didn't believe in, as was the case for us. When he asked me to marry him for the first time, I was sure he was still in shock after the bombing, or perhaps it was one of his jokes. Then he went overboard and bought Britin, ultimately convincing me he was serious. But it also changed who he was, or so I thought at the time.

He'd been so affected by Prop 14 taking Linz and Mel and the kids away, he tried proving to everyone what they meant to him, but it was too much.

Then I left, pursuing my dream in New York and leaving all thoughts of marriage and love behind.

After years of an unsatisfying life in New York—thank God, I had Daph there, or I'd have ended up crazy—I was reunited with Brian. He still wanted the same things, and we didn't stop to think of anything. It was only our mutual desire to get married, to be together forever.

I'd have probably not minded if it was just the two of us somewhere, but Brian insisted on giving me the big wedding I'd always wanted. It was in such moments and through such gestures when Brian showed his incurable romantic face. Again, I'd never say the words to his face. He'd kill me in my sleep.

If he only knew the things I thought about him. I was grateful he didn't have mind-reading skills like Rage.

But it was time to wake him up and show him how much I loved him.

Brian's POV

Waking up with my dick in Justin's mouth was the best way to be risen.

He didn't seem to notice I was awake as he kept licking and sucking teasingly in a way that always drove me crazy. When he took my whole length into his mouth, all the way to the back of the throat, I ran a hand through his hair.

I must have startled him with my sudden movement, because in all the years Justin had blown me, he'd only gagged a couple of times—once when he was sick and couldn't breathe through his nose, and the other time when an asshole we'd brought home kept his face buried to his groin for far too long.

He pulled away, his teeth grazing my sensitive dick, which made me hiss.

Note to self: Never startle Sunshine while he's blowing you!

Justin covered his mouth, staring at me with wide, worried blue eyes.

"Morning." I gripped his hair, tugging him closer. Our lips met halfway, and even if at first his kiss was tentative, the second I opened his mouth and our tongues touched, his spark was back. We kissed hungrily for several minutes, until the need to breathe became too strong.

"Brian." He moaned wantonly against my lips, straddling me. His hands wrapped around the headboard as he rocked on top of me.

"Ready to start our marathon?"

A huge smile spread on Justin's lips. "As long as you promise we'll see the outside of this hotel room."

"We can try the Jacuzzi in the bathroom, or even adventure to the pool." I chuckled.

"Correction: see the outside of the hotel. I want you to show me all the cool places here!"

I snorted, running the back of my hand over his ribs until I reached his erection. "That's a short list. But first things first. Undress me."

Justin turned red, glancing down at his nakedness. "I tried taking your boxers off, but you nearly punched me. So I decided it was safer to simply go for a harmless blowjob." He winked, wrapping his fingers on the elastic of my underwear. "By the way, I'm so sorry I nearly bit you."

"It was my fault."

Once I was boxers free, Justin resumed his position straddling me. After a few more playful kisses, he reached for my wallet on the nightstand.

I'd kept my plans for the honeymoon hidden from Justin. Thus the previous times we engaged in fucking, I indulged him to use the condom.

Sadly, our destination had gotten leaked, no thanks to Mikey's big mouth.

But truthfully, this was the best surprise. When the doctor had called me with the results of our tests, I made him promise not to tell Justin. It helped that Justin had been busy with everything wedding related to remember he was eagerly waiting for our results. Not like we ever had any doubt about being clean.

We both got tested regularly (I taught him well) and I personally hadn't tricked in far too long. It had been over a month or so since I had someone when I bumped into Justin in New York City. And ever since we got back together, surprisingly, we hadn't brought home anyone after a night out.

I didn't need the tricks anymore.

I had finally grown up enough to understand what a real relationship entitled.

It was time to let Justin know of my plans. I covered his hand, shaking my head.

"You don't have any more in your wallet? Was the one we used on the plane the last one?" He sounded so heartbroken, it was funny.

"Yes, it was the last," I said firmly, hoping he'd catch my undertone—the finality of my statement.

When he moved to get out of the bed, I realized he missed the point. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, preventing him from going too far.

"What's wrong? Didn't you pack any? Why did I let you pack, again?"

"Sunshine, there is a box of condoms in my suitcase, but I was hoping we wouldn't need it."

His mouth dropped, his eyes staring at me blankly. A shaky hand touched my forehead. "Do you have a fever? Marriage doesn't mean the end of our sex life!"

"I never said that!"

"Then what—" He stopped talking, eyeing me thoughtfully.

I knew the second he finally put the pieces together. His blue eyes dilated and turned a few shades darker, and a large smile spread on his face.

"Really? You want to try it…raw?" Justin whispered the word as if it was something forbidden.

"I don't want to try it. I simply want it. We're clean," I said seriously.

"God, Brian! I love you so much!" He threw himself at me, kissing me desperately, his hands going everywhere, touching every part of me. A few moments later, Justin pulled away. "We still need the lube."

I wanted to kick myself for not thinking of that before and having it nearby.

As he rushed to the suitcase, I rolled onto my stomach, keeping my head turned to my side, arms wrapped around the pillow, and eyes on Justin's delectable ass.

"Got it!" He exclaimed victoriously, turning to me only to promptly drop the bottle. "Are you trying to kill me with all your surprises?"

I tried to hide my smirk. "Get here before I change my mind."

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to let me claim your glorious ass again!"

"Let me guess. Since the last time I indulged you."

"Which was so long ago…" Justin said wistfully.

"Well, make the most of it. This isn't going to be a common occurrence. Only on special occasions—like our anniversary. Capisce?" I peered at him over my shoulder.

"Yup." He nodded vigorously, sitting on the back of my thighs, and touching my ass almost reverently.

I had a feeling he was going to take his sweet time, and not just go in like he usually did when I let my guard down. Like I predicted, Justin laid on my back, hugging me from behind. His fingers found my nipples and twisted them, earning a low moan from me.

"I love you," he said softly in my ear, kissing and licking at my neck. His hands moved up around my shoulders as his hips pushed into my ass. "You want to be the first to experience this. I'm almost jealous, but I'm too fucking turned on to feel anything besides a great need to be inside you. Imagine how tight you'd be."

"Sunshine, you know I prefer actions in favor of words."

"Right." He kissed the back of my neck, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. "Got distracted for a second." He started kissing down my spine.

His hands disappeared from around me, but I didn't hear the bottle opening. So I jumped, startled when cold gel touched my hole.

Justin rubbed his fingers over the lube, as he leaned over me. His hot breath in my ear managed to extract quite a loud moan from me. "It will heat up," he whispered, pushing a finger into me.

I wanted to laugh at my own words thrown at me, but all that escaped me was a groan of pleasure. Another finger joined the first, and I succumbed to the pleasure.

Justin had never done this before, never prolonging the moment so much. He was probably afraid I'd push him off me, but how could I?

There was a reason why I didn't bottom. It could become addicting, especially when it came from Justin. Besides, I'd always been a top. They hadn't called me The Stud of Liberty Avenue for nothing all these years.

What we were doing at the moment was ours—no one knew I sometimes took it up the ass, because it was only from Justin.

The first time I had allowed him to top me, it took me by surprise. He'd been awfully insistent, and I couldn't say no to his wide, hopeful blue eyes. And there had been rumors about Justin's backroom adventures, of him being a great top. I had to make sure I'd been a good teacher.

I was fooling myself.

Allowing Justin to top me had been a huge crack in my carefully composed mask. It was probably in that moment, the twat realized what power he had over me. He knew I loved him when I wasn't sure myself, or more honestly, when I was still denying it.

His hands gently opening me up brought me back to present.

"If this hurts…"

"I'll let you know, but I highly doubt it. Come on, Sunshine."

I felt his hands shaking as he inched closer. When the tip of his dick pressed into me, I clenched, but Justin's hand stroking my lower back, relaxing me. Slowly, he breached me.

I had never, in my whole life, felt anything like that. His hot and heavy dick was pushing deeper until he was all the way inside me.

"Fuck," Justin cursed breathlessly. He moved the hand he had on my shoulder to my hair, gripping it firmly. "You're so…tight!"

I pressed my face into the pillow, overwhelmed by his slow strokes. My muscles tightened, my stomach knotting as I was pushed closer to my release.

"Brian…this is…beyond words. I don't ever…want…to leave…your ass."

I gripped the pillow in my hands, gasping into it. I didn't trust my own voice at the moment, though I wanted to tell him he'd want my dick so far up his ass he'd feel it in his stomach when I got my turn. But I didn't say it.

He moved in slow, precise movements, nailing my prostate every few strokes. Justin was a great top. It shouldn't be a surprise, since he'd learned from the master—moi.

"I want to hear you," he rasped out, tugging at my hair until he had my head off the pillow, my neck and spine bowed. "Fuck!" He shuddered, and I knew he was close.

His hot tongue licked down my spine, between curses and sounds of pleasure. At some point, I wasn't sure who was shouting louder.

Eventually, Justin sat up on his haunches, took hold of my hips and plowed me into the bed.

As I fisted my cock, I became aware I'd never shouted his name during sex. But then again he'd never made me feel like I was losing my mind.

When my ass clenched around his dick, it was all it took for him to shoot his load. Feeling his warm semen inside me made me shudder through my release, before I collapsed on the bed.

After a few moments of getting a hold of himself, Justin pulled out, hissing loudly.

"Holy shit!" He gasped. "This is so fucking hot!"

I didn't have to ask to know he was most likely fascinated by his own cum dripping from my ass. I expected him to bring a towel, but as always Justin surprised me. He dived right in, licking and sucking, and making the most pornographic sounds I'd ever heard escape him.

"God." I pressed my face into the pillow again.

When he deemed me clean enough, he crawled over me, draping his sated body over my back. One of his hands rubbed my bicep, his lips peppering kisses to my shoulder.

"Was that okay?"

What a ridiculously stupid question. It deserved an equally stupid answer.

"No. It was terrible," I answered as seriously as possible.

Justin rolled me on my back, watching me concerned. Sadly, I wasn't quick enough to hide the smirk off my face, because he narrowed his eyes. "Can you be serious for once in your life? It's the first time we do something like this, and you let me break the ice! Then you joke I sucked."

I smoothed his hair out of his eyes. "Sunshine, you're a great top. That's a huge compliment coming from me, by the way." I kissed between his brows. "Now, give me a few minutes and I'll show you how wonderful barebacking is."

"Only a few minutes?" he teased, kissing my nose.

"For that comment, you'll get a spanking too."

"Yes, please." He bucked into me. We both ended up laughing.

"But later. Come here." I hugged him close, combing my fingers through his hair.

Justin kept his head on my shoulder, and I knew after a few moments of silence he was asleep.

oOo

Justin's POV

I was dozing off when Brian pushed me off him, until I was lying on my back next to him. Instead of rolling on top of me, he got out of the bed, and went to the suitcase.

Did he suddenly change his mind about the condoms?

My worry turned out to be silly. After a little rummaging, Brian returned to the bed with a tie.

"Do I want to know why you packed a tie? Is there a suit too?"

"Always be prepared, Sunshine. As for the reason I'm holding this tie…I'm sure you already know." He twisted the black, silk tie around his wrist, smirking.

"You married a genius. Remember my SAT? 1500, in case you forgot." I grinned, raising one leg and pushing lightly against his chest with my toes.

"How could I forget? You boasted about it for years!"

I shrieked in laugher when his ran a hand over the back of my calf down to my knee, all the while crawling closer. His eyes shone with mirth when he found my ticklish spots.

"Ticklish, Mr. Taylor?"

"You wouldn't dare!" I begged, shaking my leg in an attempt to free myself.

"Oh, wouldn't I? Should I remind you of the time you sided with Gus in making me cry in laughter?"

"I couldn't deny him!" I giggled when he trailed a finger over the skin behind my knee.

What he was talking about had happened many years ago, after our first engagement. Gus was visiting, and Brian was on the bed flipping through a magazine while Gus and I worked on sandwiches. It all started with an innocent question from Gus, asking if his daddy was ticklish. His eyes were trained on Brian's bare feet. I told him there was one way to find out. It quickly escalated to a full body tickling until Brian was sobbing and kicking at us.

"I don't have reinforcements like you had, but I have this." He leaned over me, lifting my arms above my head. Faster than I could react, he had my hands tied to the headboard.

"Don't tickle me, please!"

"You'd wish I was tickling you by the time I'm done with you, Sunshine."

He reached for something at the end of the bed. My eyes widened when I saw a bottle of massage oil. It was clear he was planning a slow torture, but a pleasurable one.

Brian poured a generous amount of oil on his palm, before rubbing his hands together, watching me with a smile. He started with my shoulders, down the length of my arms, kneading my muscles. Slowly, he travelled back to my shoulders and down to my pecs where he paid great attention to my nipples. The way he twisted and pulled at them was enough to have me squirming, on the edge.

He squeezed more oil on my chest, rubbing it slowly into my skin. His tongue licked at my navel until I started begging for mercy. Brian smirked up at me, and I knew he wasn't even close to being done.

He simply skipped over my groin—the area that needed his attention the most. His strong hands worked my legs, all the way to my toes. The way he touched me turned me on so much, I even forgot about the ticklish parts of my legs. Brian licked my soles and sucked my big toe in his mouth.

"Fuuuck!" I jerked under him, my dick jumped, precum oozing from the tip. He always found a new way to take me by surprise and make me come before I was ready.

"Aww, does widdle Sunshine have a feet fetish?"

"Fuck me," I gasped.

"Nope." He bit my sole playfully.

I gaped, wondering how much he could drag this game. "Please," I begged in a small voice.

His hands parted my legs, bringing them on his shoulders as he settled between them, where I wanted him the most.

"What was that?" He goaded, popping the lube bottle open.

"Fuck. Me. Now!" I said through greeted teeth.

"Try again." Brian rubbed his lubed fingers over my hole, slowly stretching me.

I already said please, I thought sullenly; but then I met his warm, soft, full of love and adoration eyes. My heart almost burst out of my chest, because I knew what he actually wanted me to say.

Swallowing thickly, overcome with emotion, I arched into him. "Make love with me, Brian."

"That's it," he said softly, pushing another finger into me, closing his eyes.

I could never tire of watching his face while we were in bed. Brian always made the most erotic faces I'd seen on anyone. He got involved one hundred plus percent in sex. He's always been a generous and thorough lover.

"Please, Brian," I whined when he tapped my prostate with the tip of his finger.

I felt awfully empty when he pulled out, but then my eyes trained on his hand lubing up his cock.

Holy shit.

It hit me for the first time. I was going to feel him without any restrictions. The thought brought me even closer to my release.

My leg muscles seized up when he pushed into me. One of his hands was under my bent knee, the other pressed into the pillow by my head, while dilated, hazel eyes stayed on mine.

Nothing could have prepared me for this moment.

Brain's bare dick inside me was like all of my dreams coming true. He was so hot, long, and heavy, filling me completely. I could feel every vein on his rod.

"Christ!" He breathed out, once he was seated deep inside me.

"Justin," I reminded him jokingly, but it was lost when he shifted. My eyes rolled back as my balls tightened. No. No. No. I couldn't come now.

Brian pressed his cheek to the side of my neck. "Just in, yes. Can you stop squeezing me, though?"

I chuckled, earning a loud groan from him. I did my best to relax, but I wasn't sure if I succeeded.

Brian untied my hands before hooking his arms under my armpits, bringing me impossibly closer. I was effectively trapped between him and the bed, not like I minded. He mostly rocked gently, keeping his face pressed into my neck.

My hands, free to roam his perfect body, were everywhere—his hair, his back, his arms, his ass.

I wasn't sure for how long he kept the slow pace, edging both of us, but I was drenched in sweat, and my body was aching from being denied the much needed release.

Brian must have reached his limit too, because he pulled away slightly, before entering me sharply. That was all it took for me to clench around him, shooting my load. My fingers dug into his back, my toes curled, and my neck arched. He moaned loudly, his hips jerking erratically until he fell on top of me. Feeling him come inside me was so new, and almost weird having his hot spunk into my ass.

His hand moved away the sweaty hair from my eyes, before nudging my cheek with his nose. "My sweet prince."

My heart clenched as tears sprung into my eyes. "My beautiful husband," I choked out, turning my head to catch his lips into a kiss. "I love you."

Brian responded to the kiss eagerly, before peppering small kisses up my jaw to my ear, where he whispered, "I love you, Justin."

Brian's POV

"Is this okay?" Justin appeared from the bathroom for the sixth time in span of fifteen minutes.

I knew I was the one who took ages to choose clothes, not him. Apparently, things had changed.

"Yes. Just like your previous outfit."

The words barely left my mouth before Justin was pulling his shirt off, scowling.

"Look, Sunshine, you look great!" I tried to stop him from creating a mess in his quest for the right clothes, which he was already wearing.

"You're supposed to say that," he grumbled.

I raised an eyebrow. Really? "Since when do I do or say something I don't mean?"

"But nothing looks good! I mean, look at you!" He made a flourish gesture, before stomping to the open suitcase, flinging clothes around.

I closed my eyes, restraining the urge to yawn or say something sarcastic, he'd probably take it to the heart.

We never had this problem before. It was all new for me to sit around and wait for him to choose something to wear. He was usually the one dressed in ten seconds tops, and waiting for me, scolding me for taking so long.

Maybe it was revenge, though it looked serious. He truly didn't like anything he was trying on.

I had gotten dressed in a matter of minutes—white linen pants and one of my black sleeveless shirts. It was perfect for our night out.

Justin, on the other hand, was completely undecided.

"Could you help me?" he asked in a small voice.

"Christ." I went to him, picking a light blue sleeveless shirt and his cargo pants. The shirt would make his eyes look bluer, and I secretly liked his pants and the way they accentuated his bubble butt. "Put these on." I pushed the clothes in his arms.

"But…"

"No buts. Now. It's already eleven."

"So what? Do they close early?" He eyed me amused, walking backwards into the bathroom.

"No. The entrance is free before midnight—for hot guys."

"Makes one wonder what trolls get in after midnight."

I chuckled, going back to the bed. "Not everyone is hot like us."

"Wait until they make me pay," he called through the closed bathroom door.

Why the fuck would he close himself in there like some virginal girl on her wedding night, I had no idea.

"Don't be a twat. Now get out, and let's get a move on." I wrenched the door open in time to catch a glimpse of his white undies.

He glared at me, zipping up his pants, before tugging at his shirt. "How do I look?"

"Fabulous."

"Wait. One minute, I need to do something to my hair."

Oh, for fuck's sake. I went back to the bed where I fell on my back.

The club was ten minutes away from the hotel, but if Justin decided to have another queen moment, I was seriously leaving without him.

"Done!" he exclaimed, stepping out of the bathroom. I couldn't see a difference between what his hair looked like a minute ago and now, but decided against telling him.

I grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and pulled him out the door. "I aged ten years."

Instead of taking it as a joke, Justin tilted his head to the side, regarding me as I locked up.

"Hmm. I think I see a few age lines." He fingered my temple.

"You don't! You need your vision checked."

"I still got 20/20."

I narrowed my eyes, before stalking to the elevator.

"It was a joke, Brian. You don't have age lines." He hurried after me, apologizing.

We got in the elevator and stood in silence while we descended. I frowned at my reflection in the mirror. I knew my age was showing despite the creams I invested a small fortune in, but they were to make me sleep better at night.

Right before we reached the lobby, Justin took my hand, leaning into me. "You're still gorgeous."

I smiled, kissing the top of his head.

I wanted to throw his words back at him—"You're supposed to say that"—but I knew he was nervous. Though, I still hadn't figured out why.

It was our first time going clubbing as a married couple. Maybe he was afraid I'd want to fuck someone else, but that would mean not being able to feel Justin in all his glory. Nothing could top that experience—being so close to him.

I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize feeling him skin on skin again.

"What's bothering you?" I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as we left the hotel. "You've been acting odd ever since I suggested we go to the club."

Justin stiffened by my side. "It's silly."

"Tell me. I won't laugh."

"Promise?" He glanced up to meet my eyes. His were full of worry.

I nodded solemnly.

"I feel like I need to meet some standards now that I'm your husband. I dress like the poor artist that I am, and I look like a homeless guy next to you."

"Hey, stop insulting my beautiful husband!" I teased, trying to come up with something smart to say.

"I can't. We're such opposites. What would people think? You always look like you stepped out of GQ or Esquire magazine. And I look…well, I look like I've been run over by a train."

"Would you stop putting yourself down? This has never been a problem, or you never mentioned it to me, if it was."

"I always felt like this, Brian, but now it makes me feel self-conscious. A lot."

"You know what I say about what others think—fuck them! All that matters is you're happy—we're happy. Fuck what others think."

"I'm not like you, Brian. I can't ignore how other people look at me." He stopped walking and turned to stand in front of me. "Will you teach me how to dress better?"

I patted his cheek, chuckling. "I've been waiting for you to ask me that since we met."

"WHAT?" He looked positively horrified.

"I never hid the fact that I didn't approve of your clothes, but you liked them. Of course, I always drew the line at your sneakers."

Justin relaxed a little, before resuming walking. "So will you teach me, oh Clothing Guru?"

"Clothing Guru?"

"Yup."

"Are you sure? Because first thing when we get back home is throw all your clothes in the trash. And you're not allowed a tantrum over 'that was my favorite shirt' or 'I had that since I was still wet behind the ears'."

I could see an internal fight taking place inside him.

"Baby steps. Not all my clothes, Bri. I'll need some for when I paint or lounge around the house."

"Trust me on this makeover, Sunshine." I brought him closer to my side, rubbing his arm.

"I want to, but it scares me."

"Change is scary." I kissed his temple. I couldn't wait until I started this makeover. It was all I'd wanted for years—to take over his wardrobe.

We were going to discuss this further when we returned to the Pitts.

"Here we are." I gestured to the club, grinning.

As we approached the short line, Justin pinched my hip. "By the way, I don't have clothes since when I was still wet behind the ears, you asshole!"

I snorted, earning a large smile from him.

Justin was ready to stand in line, but I seized his elbow, tugging him to the door. I knew the bouncer. Nothing changed around here.

I hadn't practiced my Spanish in years, but I still knew the basics.

"Buenos notches, Carlos."

Carlos nodded in recognition. "Senior Kinney." He stepped back, letting us inside.

"Of course, you know everyone." Justin shook his head.

"Why, jealous, dear?"

"Just curious. How often did you come here?"

"Every other year."

We made our way to the bar where I ordered beers to start with. The bartender gave Justin an once-over, which made me want to smash his head against the counter. Mine.

"Card?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, cash." I waved the Euros in front of him.

"No. No. Identification card." He nodded to Justin. "Chico."

Now I really wanted to scatter his brains to the walls. I resisted the urge to ask how old did he think I was if he considered Justin a kid.

I turned to Justin who was busy watching the dancing masses. "He wants to see you're legal. I say you show him. Spanish police is something you don't want to deal with."

"He thinks I'm underage?" Justin gave me an incredulous look, but excitement was dancing on his face.

"I told you—you're hot." I kissed him quickly.

He showed the bartender his ID, and once the man was convinced he wasn't selling alcohol to a minor, he handed us the beers. I told him to keep an open tab, and he smiled, nodding.

On the dance floor, Justin wrapped his arms around my neck, grinding his hips against mine. "Next time we order, can you ask him how young I look?"

"Under eighteen, if he asked for confirmation you're legal."

"You mean twenty-one."

"I mean eighteen. Kids are legal at eighteen in most European countries. I say lucky bastards." I wrapped my arms around his neck too, pressing his face to my neck. "It's not like this restriction stops us or anyone else from starting to drink early."

After kissing my neck, he took a few gulps from his bottle. "I had wine for the first time when I was five."

I snorted. "Every kid dipped their finger in daddy's drink. The first time I drank alcohol, I was thirteen. I stole one of daddy dearest's whiskey bottles."

"I meant what I said. We had guests. Mom left her glass of wine unsupervised." He gave me a bashful smile, taking another gulp from his beer.

"Whoa! You little alcoholic."

"I remember their faces. Mom was freaked, her girlfriends were all over me asking how I felt and pushing me to drink water. Dad was staring at me in shock. Guess what I did?"

"Puked over him?"

"No." He laughed. "I went to the bottle of wine and said more."

"Was it red, at least?"

"Cabernet." He winked.

"At least you have good taste."

"Mom didn't think so."

As I leaned closer to kiss him thoroughly, the music dimmed in volume, and a voice announced it was Cute Asses Get Free Drink Night. Everyone was invited to shake said cute asses as the volume raised once again.

"What was that all about? Damn, I wish I paid more attention in Spanish at school."

"We're getting free drinks tonight. You need to show the bartender your cute bubble butt." I spanked him lightly.

"What?" Justin choked out.

"Cute asses get free drinks. Yours is hot. You can score two free drinks in one go."

He gasped, slapping my hand playfully. "You'd sell your husband like that?"

I pretended to think, making him narrow his eyes. "Anything for free drinks," I said eventually.

His mouth dropped, but he quickly burst out laughing.

The whole time we spent at the club, in between drinks coming our way courtesy to Justin's hot little ass and dancing more than we'd ever had, Justin kept exclaiming how much he loved it there.

It proved I still knew him well enough to know what made him happy. Despite Mikey's words about our honeymoon in Ibiza, our time here seemed to be a hit.

Seeing Justin smile was all I needed to know listening to myself was the best idea I ever had. If I'd asked the others about honeymoon ideas, they'd have tried to talk me out of Ibiza, and I'd have probably caved. Thank God, I only listened to myself.

Justin's POV

"What about this one?" I caught Brian's eye.

"We'll print them all and have everyone choose what they like." He wasn't even looking at the laptop.

It was the middle of the day, extra hot outside, so we decided to order lunch in our room and relax. Brian was taking relaxation to a whole new level. He was on his back, naked, and hadn't moved in almost an hour.

"Hey, I meant this one!" I pinched his toe, which was at my nose since I was lying upside down in the bed. He refused to join me at the foot of the bed where I'd been looking over the pictures we'd taken so far.

Brian's foot jerked, narrowly missing my mouth. "Christ!" He dug his toe in my back. "What the fuck do you want?" He groaned, resuming his position, legs spread and hands on his stomach. "I shouldn't have had that second helping. Why did I cave to your insistences?"

"Because I'm persistent, and you love fish."

"Not anymore. If I ever see fish again in our house, I'm asking for a divorce."

"Don't be such a drama queen. Fish is light for the stomach. You'll be fine in no time." I rubbed a hand over his leg.

"Then," Brian added loudly, "you forced me to eat that piece of cheesecake!"

"I did not force you!"

He narrowed his eyes, keeping his hands pressed to his stomach. "When you're done looking over the pictures, dear, we should hit the gym. I have ten pounds to lose."

"I'll be done faster if you actually cooperate."

"What the fuck is it that you want to do anyway? I told you—we'll print them all, several times, to make sure everyone gets copies."

I pointed to the picture on the screen. "Do you like this one? I want to make it the wallpaper background, but after I tweak it."

"I think you should wait until we get back. At this rate, you'll change the background picture every day."

"But don't you like it? We don't have many pictures together."

"We don't, but we will. I promise." He lifted his head to look at the one I was showing him.

We had snapped it by ourselves on the balcony. The sea was behind us, the sun rising, and us smiling despite the fact it was the crack of dawn. I was glad the camera caught only our faces, because Brian's wandering hands had reached my dick by the time the photo was taken.

"I like that one." He came closer, kissing my shoulder. "Now, let's use the hotel's gym."

On our way to the gym, I had to remind myself a dozen times Brian and I were married and our times when we took tricks back home were long gone. After we had gotten back together in February, neither of us had tricked, which made me deliriously happy. Yet, a small part of me missed that.

In the elevator, it was us and the bell boy. My eyes stayed on his ass until the doors opened and Brian pulled me out. I did my best not to look over my shoulder. Damn, these Spanish guys are hot.

Surprisingly, Brian didn't seem interested.

"See something you like, Sunshine?"

I could tell by the tone of his voice he was jealous. It was crazy.

"Won't you like to spice things up tonight?"

He breezed inside the gym, heading straight to the bench press, lying on his back. "Spot me."

Okay, he was upset. "Don't tell me you don't miss it."

Brian stared up right into my eyes, making me squirm. "And wait half a year to have you like I did in the past two days? I can live without tricking. Now, the question I thought I'd never ask: can you?"

I sucked on my lower lip, keeping my eyes on his. I was such an idiot. "Fuck. I didn't think of the consequences of sharing someone, like before."

Of course, I could live without tricking. It was funny, Brian admitted it first.

He smirked, lifting the weights.

"Coming from the man who went through most of the gay population of the Northern Hemisphere in only a decade is so…"

"Pathetic?" Brian supplied, scowling at me.

I held his barbell. "I was thinking of admirable."

"So… Do we have a problem, Sunshine?" He lifted an eyebrow.

I gave him back the barbell, shaking my head. "No problemo, Stud." I squatted to his level and kissed him softly. "It's so romantic hearing you only want to be with me."

"You have to understand that barebacking was always the forbidden fruit. I knew I'd never have that experience. You changed that—thank you. You also managed to turn me into a kid who was told Christmas is every day. Come here."

I leaned closer, allowing him to kiss me. His tongue explored my mouth, earning a groan from me.

"That's how much you like it?" I whispered against his lips.

"Like it? Are you shitting me? I fucking love it! I can't wait until I'm back inside you."

I shifted uncomfortably, adjusting my raging hard-on.

"Now, will you actually do your job and spot me?"

"Oh. Sorry." I scrambled up, helping him with the heavy weight.

Brian whistled lowly. "My, my, what a fine sight is in front of my eyes."

I looked around, only to realize he was staring at my groin. I turned red, but focused on spotting him. My eyes stayed on his biceps stretching under his skin. Fuck. He was killing me slowly.

In the few times I'd accompanied him to the gym, many years ago, I hadn't paid such close attention to him during the workouts. But fuck. If he was hot on his best days, he was ten times hotter sweaty and grunting.

After a while, some guy came to us. Or should I say to Brian, since he couldn't take his eyes off my husband.

I cursed myself for the unteempth time in the past two days for not paying attention in Spanish class in high school.

The very hot guy was telling Brian something I didn't understand. It made Brian sit up, straddling the bench, and wiping sweat with the edge of towel dangling from around his neck.

When our eyes met for a fraction of second, I feared the guy had somehow managed to change his mind.

Brian smiled at his admirer, standing.

Fuck. My heart took off.

Don't cave, Brian. Not after what you just told me!

He patted the guy's shoulder, saying something in his most alluring voice. But no was no in all languages; that much I gathered.

I couldn't contain my sudden relief. I wrapped my arms around him, tugging his head closer so I could kiss him. "Love you."

Brian threaded his fingers through my hair, sucking his lips inside his mouth, then caught the other guy's eye, saying a few more words, but he'd lost his interest. He turned to leave, but not before giving Brian one last longing look, as if regretting not having him.

"That's right. He's all mine!" I sang, peppering kisses on Brian's face.

He chuckled, bending me over, and kissing me passionately. I wished I could have my way with him right there and then.

"That fucking prick thought you were too frail to spot me correctly. He said I needed a real man to help me."

"And what did you say? He didn't look pleased." I stroked his cheek.

"I told him you were a real man—my man." Brian nuzzled my neck, sucking at my Adam's apple. "Let's do some exercise. We're not leaving until I'm sure all the food I ingested is burned out."

I was still light-headed after his confession. "But I can take care of that in our room." I ran my hand down his chest, stopping at the string of his pants.

"Sunshine, I'll make you a deal. We stay here one hour, then we can go back to our room."

"Deal." I beamed at him.

We went to the stationary bikes.

The rest of our time in the gym was spent teasing each other any way we could. By the time we left, I was sporting the biggest wood on the planet, impossible to hide.

To drive me crazy further, Brian stood behind me in the packed elevator. His dick pressed deliciously against my ass. When he started thrusting, I gritted my teeth in an attempt to keep from moaning.

There were kids around us, and I was so horny, I was ready to rip his clothes off and beg him to take me.

The begging waited until we were safely inside our room. The second the door closed behind us, I stripped, before I started pulling at his clothes.

"Fuck me." I bent over a chair.

His hands grabbed my ass, squeezing, then he spanked me.

"Briiaaan!"

"Did I ever mention I never had anyone as horny as you? You give the word a new meaning."

"It's because I love you so fucking much. I neeeed you! Please fuck me, Brian. Push your beautiful dick inside me. Hard and fast."

"Shit, Justin."

When I saw him with the corner of my eye moving toward the bedroom, I jumped him. He lost balance and tumbled to the floor with me on top of him.

"Are you okay?" I asked worried.

"You're so horny you're not thinking straight. I was only going after the lube, you twat!"

"Don't need it. Please. I want to feel you—all of you. Now."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," I promised. "Please."

"Are you going for the record of begging me to fuck you?" he teased.

"Why are we having this meaningless conversation? Fuck me already." I grabbed his dick, holding it firmly before sliding on it.

I tried not to let it show the sting I felt, but Brian could read me like an open book. He took over, fisting his dick a few times before slowly easing inside me. The burn lasted for a few seconds, quickly replaced by the great pleasure of having him inside me without any barrier between us.

I moved slowly, rising and lowering while Brian ran his hands over my legs, my chest, my back. He kept the pace until I shot all over his chest. Only then he got up, flipped me over the chair I'd bent over before and went back in for the gold.

"FUCK!"

"Don't scream. We're not home."

"I don't care if they hear us."

Brian cupped a hand over my mouth, fucking me just like I'd wanted—fast, hard, mercilessly.

I slumped over the back of the chair when he was done. He was leaning against the table, wiping his brow with the towel.

"That was fucking hot." I grinned, walking on wobbly feet to him.

He opened his arms and I snuggled in his embrace. "How about a bath?"

"If you carry me. I don't think I can walk."

Brian rolled his eyes, pressing the towel to my face. Then he grabbed me by the back of my thighs lifting me up. I squeaked, wrapping my legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders.

"It was a joke."

"Hold on tightly."

"Are you sure you can carry me?"

He gave me a mock-hurt look. "You don't weight a tone, Sunshine. I can fucking carry you a few feet to the bathroom."

I settled in his arms, allowing him to walk to the bathroom where he deposited me by the door. I leaned against the jamb, while he prepared our bath.

He could be so romantic when he wanted. Every time he showed me this hidden side, it made me love him a little more.

"Come here." Brian took my hand, tugging me to the bathtub.

I sat between his legs, resting my back against his chest. The tips of his fingers danced over my arms making all my hair stand up. He finished his exploration at my hand where he knotted our fingers together, bringing them up to his mouth.

"Why can't you be so sweet all the time?" I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder to look up at his face.

"You mean I'm not sweet all the time?" He pouted.

I snorted, pressing my lips to his jaw.

"Okay, maybe I'm not, but this is just for you." Brian hugged me tightly. "No one can know about my secret identity."

"Oh yeah, Mr. Serenity?"

He laughed, kissing my cheek. "I don't see anything bad in showing you how much I love you, but as long as I can still keep up my bad boy reputation outside the house."

"Of course."

After soaking for a while, Brian shifted, making me groan in protest. I could fall asleep right there if he let me.

"I know a nice game we can play," he said into my ear.

"What's that?" I slurred.

"It's called No Tides."

"What?" I glanced at him.

"I'm going to fuck you, but you're not allowed to spill any water on the floor."

"Can't we do it in the bed? Less messy, and after, we can simply fall asleep."

"Now, where's the fun in that?" he teased, already, pushing a finger inside me, making my back arch. "See? You like it."

"I can't promise no tides."

To prove him my incapability to not spill water on the floor, my foot fell in the tub from the edge where it had been when Brian entered me. He chuckled, but kept pushing.

Aside from all of our steamy showers, this had to be the best sex we ever had in a bathroom.

Brian's POV

"Would you stop acting like my mother?" Justin grunted, shuffling to the other side of the towel.

I crawled after him, sunscreen cream in hand. "I don't want you to get burned! And put this on your head." I dropped the lotion, and seized his flying hand before swiftly placing the baseball cap on his head.

"Fuck off, Brian!"

"No. Stop acting like a brat."

"But I don't need more cream, and this thing is ugly!" He flicked the cap away.

It was the middle of the day and we were on the beach, getting tanned. Or so I hoped. Justin was on his way of burning alive.

"I don't want to sound like a fucking parent, but if you don't listen to me, we're going back to our room."

"You just did—sound like a parent, I mean." He rolled his eyes.

"Look, I'm doing this for you. You won't be any fun if you get sunburn."

"Brian, I think I'm old enough to decide on my own what's best for me."

"Then please, please put sunblock lotion on you, and wear the cap."

"My God!" He snatched the hat and tugged it on his head, before rolling on his stomach. "Do your worst."

"Why, here? I'm shocked, Mr. Taylor."

Justin threw me a glare over his shoulder, showing me he didn't appreciate any jokes at the moment. "Take your mind off sex for an indefinite period of time."

"Don't be a sore sport." I poured lotion on my palm before touching his back. He jumped at the coolness on his heated skin, but relaxed gradually as I coated his back with the cream. I couldn't help myself and dip my hand inside his swimming trunks.

Justin shifted around, moaning quietly. I moved lower, to his legs, rubbing lotion into his red skin.

"Roll over." I tapped his ass playfully.

"Uh huh. I'm fine like this."

We were back to square one. Damn his stubbornness. "Let me do your chest too."

"I can't," he hissed.

"You can't turn around? Why? Leg cramp?" I snorted.

"Do you want the whole beach to see the effect you have on me? Even when I'm mad at you."

"Oh." I grinned, leaning over him, and kissing his neck. "Are you hard?"

"Like you have to ask," he mumbled into is folded arms.

"Hand me the towel we used to dry from our swim," I whispered. My dick hardened at the thought of having him in such a public place where we could possibly get arrested for indecent exposure.

"If you plan on putting it around my waist, it's not going to work."

"Give it here already. Trust me."

Once he pushed the towel to me, I put it over my ass and legs, obscuring everyone's view to what was about to happen.

"Brian, what are you doing?" Justin tried to sit up, but I kept him pinned down.

"Shh. Try not to moan too loudly." I bit his earlobe.

"Fuck. Right here?" His breath hitched. Withholding sex for an indefinite period of time, my ass. He was horny as hell.

"What? Don't tell me it doesn't turn you on."

He chuckled nervously. "It surely turns you on if your boner is anything to judge by."

"Oh, you noticed?" I laughed, thrusting against him.

"I have it pressed to my ass. Course I noticed."

"Be very quiet." I pushed his shorts down his butt, pulled my dick, out and stroked it a few times, before slowly sliding home.

"Holy. Fuck." Justin jumped at the contact, tensing up.

Shit. "Does it hurt?" Please say no, because it feels great to me. I had half a mind to pull out and use the lotion as lubricant, but he shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, he groaned, "Push all the way in."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"Because you're a pervert. Ah! Just like that."

I ruffled the hair at the back of his head. "What were you saying about withholding sex?"

"Shit. I was supposed to be mad at you."

"I can be very persuasive to get my way," I said in his ear, moving slowly inside him.

I doubted I'd ever get used to being inside Justin without any restrictions. Especially this way, he felt much tighter and hotter, and I had no idea if I could last too long.

"Brian, harder." His hand moved under the towel and grasped my hip.

"It will be obvious what we're doing."

"Like it's not obvious already."

I looked around, and saw a few people staring at us. Some of them in disgust, others in lust. Burrowing my face in Justin's hair and biting on my lip not to scream out when he clamped on me, I obeyed him.

He even begged. "Fuck me, Brian."

I rearranged him, lifting his hips, so I could reach his cock. I stroked it in rhythm with my pace. Justin threw his head back, gasping.

If it wasn't obvious we were fucking before; after that look of pure ecstasy on his face, everyone knew what was taking place under the towel.

"Justin." I pressed my face to his back, moving slowly into him. "Fuck, this is hot," I rasped out, combing a hand through his hair.

"I bet you told that to everyone who you fucked here."

"Never fucked on the beach before," I admitted.

My confession triggered his orgasm, which made me explode deep inside his tight ass. "Of all the places you've fucked me, this is the best."

I smiled, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, lying over his back, catching my breath. "You can't accuse me of not teaching you new things every day. See? I can still make you forget what you were babbling about." I pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, before rearranging our shorts and rolling on my back.

"You should make me lose my head more often. Fuck. I doubt we can ever top this experience."

"Why top it? Let it be etalon for future fucks."

Justin half-heartedly kicked me in the shin.

"Now, on your back, Sunshine." I pushed against his shoulder.

"Can you give me a break between rounds? And I seriously doubt you can get it up five minutes after that! No offense or anything but you're no longer the twenty-nine year old stud who seduced…and abandoned me all these years ago."

I threw my head back, laughing so hard my sides hurt.

"I brought you up so well! I'm touched. I haven't been prouder of myself in my life."

He gave me a curious look, his brows furrowed.

"All I wanted was to put lotion on your chest!? Remember what I was doing earlier…"

"Not again! Stop, please. It gives me the fucking creeps when you act like my mMom after we fucked."

"I'm only looking out for you, Sunshine."

"Stop doing it."

After a few minutes of silence, I nudged him with my elbow. "So I seduced and abandoned you?"

He scowled at me. "It's not like you cared much."

"I always cared." I moved a piece of blond hair out of his eyes. "Despite the way I acted, I actually felt bad for you. I could only imagine what a sad, little life you must have to want to hang with me and my friends."

"I didn't have a sad, little life! I just thought…I've been taught to believe in love, or at least, in commitment. Then I met you and you proved me wrong on every aspect in life."

"You've been given the sugar-coated life lesson from your parents. I taught you the real, no bullshit, and raw version."

"And I'm grateful for it." Justin snuggled closer, cupping my cheek and kissing me softly. "You're a great teacher…in lots of things."

oOo

That evening, we walked on the narrow streets of the resort. I was looking for a bar I'd seen on the Internet, but Justin was busy gawking at the beautiful architecture and the flowers in the windows.

We had to stop every now and then for him to admire the old buildings and give me a free lessons in their history.

After what felt like hours of searching for the place, I stopped a young girl and asked for directions. She explained with ample hand gestures that we were on the wrong street. No shit? The bar was two streets away, inside a small garden.

"We're not really lost," I told Justin after thanking the girl. "Come on. I know where it is."

"You said that before."

"Now, I really know." I took his hand, leading him through the busy street.

He tugged me back. "Walk slower, will you? Let me enjoy this. It's so beautiful here."

I sighed, falling into his slug pace.

"It's not at all like I imagined Ibiza."

"And how did you imagine Ibiza?" I emphasized the correct pronunciation. I swore, he was doing it on purpose.

"Well, I always thought it was this place where people partied all the time. I imagined all kinds of creeps and druggies, gang bangs, and all sorts of orgies."

"That's most of the island, but there are quiet parts. Like this one."

"I fucking love it here. Thank you for the best honeymoon ever!" Justin pulled me closer and kissed me in the middle of the street.

"I'll let Michael know he doesn't know shit about honeymoons. He said Ibiza isn't a honeymoon destination."

"Oh, what does he know?" Justin wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his head to my shoulder.

We finally reached the bar.

"Oh my God! Look, Brian!" Justin crouched to something at the gate that led to the bar.

"What did you find, twat?" I peered over his shoulder.

"Look how cute it is!" He picked a small kitten, stroking its head. "Aw, she's purring."

"Christ." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Are you coming inside? Or do I have to leave you here to play with the kitty?"

"Can we take it home?"

"No."

He pouted adorably, but put the cat down and stood up. I led him into the bar by the loop of his pants.

"You're seriously acting like a spoiled brat today."

"And you're fucking mean. Didn't you see how cute the kitty was?"

"We have enough pets home. From being anti-pets, I think I have enough to last me several lifetimes."

He brightened, leaning to kiss my cheek. "Do you think Michael is taking good care of them?"

"I sure hope so. Come on. Beer?" I sat on a stool at the counter.

"How about something stronger?"

"If you start singing like the other night, I'm leaving you here to keep that cat company."

He laughed, nudging my knee with his. "I was pleasantly buzzed."

"You were not so pleasantly trashed."

"Scotch," he told the bartender. "Duo for moi."

I slapped the back of his head. "Dos para mi," I corrected him.

"Shut up, I'm trying to learn."

"At least use one language not three, and try to make one of them Spanish."

"Show off," he grumbled.

When our drinks arrived, we clinked the glasses and downed the contents.

Justin's POV

It had been a week since the wedding—a whole week of having Brian all to myself.

I should have known it wasn't going to last forever.

On Monday afternoon, while we were basking in the afterglow of a hot, passionate round of love making, Brian's phone rang, interrupting the blissful moment.

Groaning, he stretched over me and grabbed it from the nightstand, kissing me chastely, trying to wipe out my pout probably.

"Cynthia," he answered cheerfully.

I settled back on his chest, running a finger down his side. He swatted my hand, laughing quietly.

The amusement died with whatever Cynthia was telling him. I saw a frown marring his beautiful face.

"How the fuck did that happen?" he barked, sitting up, effectively cutting off our contact.

I lay on my back, watching his muscles tensing up.

"You know what to do. Go over there and tell Gardner what a fucking traitor he is!"

Ah, his ex-boss. I never liked him.

"No," Brian shouted, making me jump. "I didn't steal his clients. I won them based on a true, honest campaign." There was a short pause, in which I debated whether it was safe or not to touch his shoulder. "I don't give a fuck about that piece of shit. Though, I'm not surprised Gardner fell for Kip's bullshit. I guess the coward has waited all these years to revenge the past."

Kip? I remembered one Kip—the asshole who sued Brian for sexual harassment after they fucked in his office. I hadn't heard of him since that time. It was odd he made a reappearance after so many years.

Brian gave me an apologetic look over his shoulder, before getting up, taking the laptop and going to the sitting room.

I sighed, throwing an arm over my eyes.

Our alone, unperturbed time together had been great as long as it lasted.

If he had trouble at work, I figured he'd like to get back. It wasn't that I wanted this honeymoon to begin with, but it had provided the most amazing times I'd ever spent with Brian. It was his second best surprise, after buying Britin.

I retrieved my own phone from the nightstand and turned it on, scrolling through the many messages I got in the past few days. Most of them were from Mom, Emmett, and Daph. They all wanted to know all about the special place Brian had taken me.

I was surprised Michael hadn't told them, but then I realized the dates were from last week, when we'd arrived here.

I decided to call Daphne, mostly to hear about how she was feeling.

"This is soo freaky!" she answered promptly

"Hello to you too," I joked.

"No, really. It's freaky. I was just thinking about you, and I could have sworn the baby moved, but that's impossible. I'm only four months along."

"You're the freak, Daph."

She giggled. "Taking a break from your fuck fest to check on reality?"

"Unwanted break," I corrected her. "Work pulled Brian away. Anyway, how are you?"

"Really? Poor guy. I'd kill my employees if they disturbed me on my honeymoon."

"I thought you didn't believe in marriage," I teased.

"Neither did Brian, and look at him."

I grinned, lighting up a smoke. "Yeah, look at him—a married man." I exhaled slowly. "God, Daphne. It's amazing. I've never felt so close to him."

"How can it be any different? I really don't understand. Does being tied to one person for the rest of your life make the sex better?"

I choked on my smoke. "In our case, yes. It's different."

"You really sound happy. Happier than you were after your first time," she said. I could hear how intrigued she was in her voice.

"Well, I am. We've never done it like this."

"Did you invent a new position? I thought you tried everything with Brian."

"We have never done it…raw," I whispered, feeling surprisingly shy.

She sucked in a breath. "What?"

"You heard me, Daph. I thought it couldn't get any better, but when we first did it…you have no idea how close you feel this way."

"This means you aren't going to fuck around like before," she said seriously.

"We haven't tricked since we got back together. And after experiencing this, I never want to share Brian again. He even said I'm the only one he wants."

"Wow, Justin! He's changed so much."

"I know. I now see it's not for my benefit as I once thought."

"Good to hear that. Anyway, are you going to call your mom too?"

"How do you know I haven't already?" I challenged, taking another drag from my smoke.

"You said yourself you've been busy until Brian got a call from work. Tell me one thing. Did you even leave the room?"

"Of course. That doesn't mean we behaved ourselves when we explored the outside world."

She giggled. "Okay. I'll let everyone know you two are still alive and rocking. Oh, do you have Internet access?"

"Duh. He didn't take me back in time."

"I'll email you the picture the doctor gave me the other day at my appointment."

I pursed my lips. "I thought we agreed you'd wait until I come back."

"I had to go on time. You'll be there for the next one. By the way, your wish of not knowing the sex is coming true. I laughed with Mitchell so hard my sides were hurting."

"Mitchell, huh?" Who the fuck is Mitchell?

"My doctor, keep up. Apparently, the baby is treating us with their little ass."

"Is that possible?"

"It's a cute ass, takes after you."

"Aw, thank you, Daph. Anything else? Everything in place? Ten toes and a cute button nose?"

"Mitchell said everything is fine. Remember, treating us with their ass? Anyway, it should be developed by now. Didn't you read the books?"

"Uh…."

"I'll buy you more, and have Michael drop them at Britin."

My heart grew in size at the mention of our home, but worry ate my gut. "Is he taking good care of our pets?"

"Yeah. You should hear him complaining about you two and your sudden love for animals."

I rolled my eyes. That sounded exactly like Michael.

"Before we hang up, you didn't ask the most important question: where did Brian take me."

"I know—Ibiza. Molly and Michael told us."

"Oh, I should have figured. But I just saw the messages."

"Oh my God! In how many days haven't you checked your phone?"

"Too many. Shit. I have to go. Brian's screaming at Cynthia."

"Bye."

Putting out my smoke in the ashtray on the nightstand, and placing my phone next to it, I left the room. I had to calm Brian down.

What I found in the sitting room made me stop in the doorway, clamping both hands over my mouth so I wouldn't make any sound. I bet he wouldn't appreciate me laughing at him.

Brian was quite the vision, pacing buck naked, snapping angrily into his phone, stopping every now and then to check something on the laptop.

It didn't take me long to realize he was no longer talking to Cynthia. Vance Gardner was on the other end of the line.

When he hung up, he stopped to the laptop and bent over the table, his fingers typing furiously. I had never seen a more beautiful sight than Brian naked bent over the table. His back muscles straining as he typed on the keyboard, his strong legs firmly planted on the carpet, his perfect ass on display, his balls and the tip of his dick peeking from his spread legs.

I could stare at him all day and never get tired.

Inspired and hoping like hell he wouldn't move any time soon, I rushed back to the bedroom and grabbed my sketchpad.

Luck was on my side when I returned. Knowing I didn't have much time, I leaned against the wall, propped the sketchpad with my knee, and started outlining his shape. I was working on the details I might forget later when he straightened his back, lifting his arms above his head. Smiling self-satisfied, he turned around and froze.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Justin! Shit."

I looked panicked between my non-defined sketch and his wide, startled eyes.

"Would you bend over the table again if I ask nicely?" I implored him.

"We agreed you topping isn't going to be a common occurrence."

"You ruined my drawing." I groaned. "Please, Brian. Stay like you were a few minutes before. I promise to blow you afterwards."

His mouth dropped, then he put his tongue in his cheek. "You're such a freak."

Despite his comment, he resumed his position.

"I promise to be quick," I said distracted, already drawing. I made sure to capture the finer details and the shadows, deciding to finish the sketch later. His position was definitely not a comfortable one, especially knowing his back injury from not too long ago.

"Done," I declared about half an hour later.

"Remind me to never pose for you. Unless you want me lying on my back on the bed." Brian cringed when his back cracked as he straightened up.

I felt guilty for causing him pain. After placing my sketchpad and pen on the table, I rubbed my hands over his spine.

"Do you want a massage?"

He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. "I want an aspirin and a bath. How's your hand?"

I flexed my fingers. "It's okay, thanks."

He smiled, kissing my fingers and pressing his thumb to my palm, the way he always relaxed my tensed hand.

"We can try the Jacuzzi." I kissed his cheek, then down his throat.

Brian chuckled, swatting my ass lightly. "Go, fill the Jacuzzi. I'll find something for my headache."

"Is everything okay back home?"

"I'd rather not talk about work."

I accepted his words, knowing he was going to talk when he was ready. "Don't take too long." I pecked his lips again, before going toward the balcony where the Jacuzzi was.

Brian's POV

"This is our best night here so far!" Justin smiled widely as he moved to the wild beat.

"I'm glad you enjoyed our time here. I knew you would."

"It's so much better than I imagined. We need to come back."

"I'm sure there will be people disappointed in our choice of fun. We'll be parents soon." I smirked.

"We already are—to Gus." Justin cupped my face, smiling.

"I mean full-time parents. Do you think we could bribe Daphne to come live with us?"

Justin gave me a skeptical look. "She could barely look us in the eye every morning when she stayed with us. I bet that hasn't changed. It's one thing to tell her about our hot nights and another thing for her to hear us in action."

"I see."

"Are you having second thoughts? It's too late," he shouted over the loud music.

"I'm just worried. Anyway, let's enjoy our last night here."

I brought him closer, kissing him deeply.

"To think I didn't even want this honeymoon!" He laughed, hugging me tightly.

"I knew you would like it, Sunshine. I plan on fulfilling all my promises to you. Ibiza." I waved my hand around us. "Next on the list is the White Party, then Mardi Grass."

His mouth dropped. "The one in Sydney?"

I nodded. "Maybe in a few years. We need to set our priorities."

"Oh God, Brian! Where else?" He jumped up and down in excitement.

I returned his infectious smile, before twirling him around. It was a hard task on the sand. He tripped and stumbled, falling on top of me. We tumbled to the soft sand.

The beach party I took him to was one of my favorite events in Ibiza. Justin had been deliriously happy ever since we got here.

I helped him up, squeezing him to my chest. "We can plan our future trips together later. Wherever you want to go, name it and we'll go. The whole world is yours," I promised.

"The moon."

"A little more realistic." I pecked his mouth.

"Don't worry. You already did—last night. You took me to the moon and back."

"That's the corniest thing you've ever said." I couldn't help but laugh. It must have been the drugs we took earlier, but we were having a great time.

"There was a song…To the Moon and Back…or something like that."

"Possibly." I shrugged, grabbing his ass and pressing my erection into his. "I can't wait to get you back to the hotel and take you across the universe. Why limit ourselves to the moon?"

"Across the Universe!" He beamed, saying it in a singing voice.

It took me a moment to realize I used one of his favorite band's song as an explanation. "Let's keep on dancing. It's actually hot seeing guys salivating after you and knowing you're all mine."

"I've been trying to tell you that for years. Good to know you finally see it my way."

Many songs later when we were both sweaty and horny as fuck, I was ready to walk back to the hotel. Justin happily agreed, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing my shoulder, humming along with the song playing.

"If you were in my heart, I'll surely not break you, If you were beside me, And my love would take you, I'll keep you in safety, Forever protect you, I'll hide you away from the world you rejected, I'll hide you, I'll hide you."

We dodged colored wands and drunken queers on our way to the alley. It felt like we were getting sucked deeper in by the crowd.

Justin kept laughing and telling me how much he wanted me, emphasizing it with thrusting his boner into my ass at any given chance.

Suddenly, I realized his arms weren't around me anymore, and when I turned to check why, I found Justin pushing another guy away from him.

"Watch out, motherfucker!" His trembling voice was dripping of bravado. I hadn't heard that voice at him since he'd been out of the hospital and walking in the street for the first time.

Why didn't I think he still wasn't okay with being in crowded places? Fuck. I was such an idiot.

The other guy swore at him, thankfully Justin didn't understand, or so I thought. I guess a curse was a curse in any language. It made Justin grab fistfuls of the guy's shirt before knocking him back.

I stepped in between them, before he could throw punches.

My arms wrapped around Justin, hugging him tightly. "Perdona," I said distracted to the guy, now supported by a few others who broke his fall. "Justin, it's okay. I'm here," I whispered in his ear.

I kept having flashbacks of when he had panic attacks walking in crowded public places.

As I shouldered my way out of the masses of dancing bodies, I could feel his body tensing up. By the time we broke free on an empty patch of the beach, Justin wrenched out of my grasp, stumbled a few feet away and retched.

Shit.

Fuck.

This wasn't the way I wanted the honeymoon to end.

"Justin," I whispered, unsure how to proceed.

He shook his head, as if telling me to leave him alone. Like fuck I was going to let him suffer.

"Sunshine, tell me what's wrong." I reached him in a few long strides.

When I touched his shoulder, he turned to look at me with hollow eyes. It had been ages since I'd last seen that vacant look on him.

"I'm here. No one is going to hurt you," I whispered, hugging him tightly, stroking his hair.

"He hit me." His voice was devoid of any emotion. He pressed a hand to his right temple. "That guy swatted his colored stick around and it hit me."

All of a sudden I felt like barfing too. "He didn't mean it, Sunshine."

He got up and walked a few feet away, his whole body rigid.

"Justin," I coaxed, fear gripping at my insides.

"I remember. All of it. You were so scared and out of place in a room full of teenagers. We danced to that stupid song. It was truly the best night of my life."

I gaped at the back of his head, frozen in place, but at the same time my bones felt like jelly and the churning in my stomach made me dizzy.

"You were gorgeous. Everything was perfect. Fuck." He fell to his knees, and I followed him without thinking. "Then…in the parking lot. You said our night had been ridiculously romantic. It was. Then…that fucking piece of shit ruined everything."

Silence fell between us. My hands gripped his shoulders, mostly to keep me from falling, from succumbing to the awful memories.

"Brian."

"Yes?" I croaked, but I couldn't find it in me to hide the way I felt.

He knew me better than anyone. He'd seen me wearing the fucking scarf.

When Justin didn't say anything else, I realized he wasn't going to do it any time soon.

Carefully, I took his hand and helped him up. He leaned into me as we walked along the beach to our hotel.

"Should I be happy it came back?" His lifeless voice scared the shit out of me.

I wasn't expecting him to talk after many minutes of silence, so I wasn't prepared with an answer. "I have no idea," I said quietly, squeezing him close.

"I know you always said you wanted to forget, but now that I have it back I'm afraid of losing it again. I want to have it always."

"I guess the aftermath is what I want to forget," I admitted.

Justin squeezed my hand. "Do me a favor and every time you think of my prom…remember that dance. Don't think beyond it, please." He implored me with his eyes. "I want both of us to share the same joy. Please, Brian."

Joy. Yeah, right. I could feel the joy radiating from him.

I guessed he needed time to accept and embrace his long lost memory.

I wanted to tell him it was impossible for me to think of his prom without feeling a hole in my stomach.

All I could think of that night was seeing Hobbs with his bat in the side mirror, me shouting and running after Justin, getting there too late, having a scarily, intense urge to kill that homophobic prick, seeing all the blood (too much blood pooling next to Justin's head). Cradling his body to my chest, crying in anguish at losing the person I didn't let myself love, waiting for the ambulance. The ride to the hospital where I wanted to kill the EMTs for not stopping the bleeding, then there was the phone call to Mikey, Mikey arriving, and me finally breaking down, followed by waiting for news on whether Justin would make it or not, the sleepless nights that came during his recovery.

Justin was looking at me almost desperately begging me to wipe all that out and think only of spotting him across the room dancing with Daphne, stealing him away, dancing with him in front of his school, kissing him, showing him how much I cared, and how important he was to me.

"All right."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "Thank you."

I kissed his temple, sighing. "I love you."

He snuggled closer into me. "I love you, too."

In front of our hotel, Justin stopped me. "Sit here for a while."

I joined him on the sand, sitting behind him and wrapping him in my arms. I never wanted to let him go.

"Can we keep this between us?" he whispered, tilting his head to look at me over his shoulder.

"Of course." I stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head.

"It will be so overwhelming to have everyone know. Besides, that was ours—that memory."

I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"It was the first time we danced like that. I had no idea you even knew anything besides your clubbing moves," Justin said after a while, chuckling.

"I think I proved to you that I know how to dance on a few occasions."

"I meant back then."

"There were many things you didn't know about me back then," I told him softly, rubbing a hand over his arm. "Like how much I loved you."

"We established you didn't love me until much later."

"Justin, I have no idea when I fell for you, probably during your insistent stalking, but I haven't let myself think of what I was feeling or accept the fact that even I wasn't immune to love until much, much later."

He laughed. "If you'd read Rage carefully, you'd have figured it out a long time ago."

"What?" I laughed along.

"I am your…uh, sorry. JT is Rage's kryptonite."

"You sneaky little shit."

"But you love me," he said seriously, turning into my arms and wrapping his around my neck.

I smiled, running a hand over his back, enjoying the moment.

I couldn't know what the night would bring. I hoped he wouldn't have nightmares. But all I knew was Justin had overcome one of his biggest fears, and he'd gotten his most treasured memory back.

Suddenly he got up, taking my hands. There was determination in his eyes.

"Give me your phone."

I handed it over, curiously. He fiddled with it for a few moments then a chill ran down my spine when I heard that song. I'd promised to think only of happy times. I had to try.

Justin arranged our pose and nudged me to start moving. His growing smile made my leaden feet move in rhythm with the song.

"But don't forget who's taking you home, And in whose arms you're gonna be, So darlin', Save the last dance for me, mmm."

Justin's humming and euphoria was infectious, and I ended up singing along, bringing him closer to my chest.

Justin's POV

The next day, I woke up first. Not like I'd slept much.

Last night, when we'd returned to our room, Brian went to grab a shower and I snuggled in bed with my sketchpad.

I had been so scared I was going to forget everything in the morning, I drew all I could remember of my prom night.

Brian didn't try stopping me when he joined me later. He watched me draw for a while, before falling asleep with his head on my lap.

I rolled out of the bed and called room-service, ordering us breakfast. Before it arrived, I showered, still thinking of that night. It was all I could think of.

Everyone told me how wonderful it had been, but I couldn't understand them until last night when I had back what I thought lost forever.

I was done with my shower on time to hear the knock on the door. I wrapped a towel around my waist and rushed to answer before it could wake Brian. After tipping the guy, I went back to the bedroom with our food.

I found Brian waking up, frowning as he felt around for me. I sat on the edge of the bed, and his hand grasped my towel and tugged, effectively ending up with it in his hand.

"What the…" He cracked an eye open. "Mhmm." His tongue peeked out to lick his top lip as he eyed my growing dick hungrily.

"I have food." I pointed to the cart.

"You're good enough to eat." Rolling closer, he engulfed me in his mouth, sucking greedily.

I tried protesting, but in the end I let him win. Who could deny a blowjob from Brian Kinney?

I was fairly certain I was part of a select club that Brian went down on; possibly the only member of it. Except, of course, his gym teacher in high school.

I could never say no to him, especially when he took me in so deep I thought he'd choke on my dick, or when his dilated hazel eyes met mine as he hollowed his cheeks.

Once he accomplished his goal to make me come harder than ever from a simple blow job, he sat up, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

"What's for breakfast?"

"Dick," I joked.

"Already had it—delicious." He kissed me softly, caressing my cheek with his finger. "Actual food?"

"We have toast, butter, honey, strawberries, milk, and OJ."

"You're trying to fatten me up."

"We also have bacon, sausages and omelet." I cleared my throat, trying not to laugh at the look of horror on his face, "There's coffee, too." I gulped thickly. "And I'm sorry about last night," I added quietly.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard, helping me arrange the trays on the bed.

"I'll have some buttered toast and honey, coffee and…" Brian stopped my hand from reaching for a slice of toast. "Never apologize for what happened that night."

I nodded solemnly.

When we both had food on our plates, he bumped my knee with his. "Show me what you drew last night."

"It's not finished."

"I want to see it," he demanded.

Sighing, I placed the sketchpad on his lap. I munched on my toast in silence while Brian sipped from his coffee, flipping through my drawings. I'd managed to fill the empty sketchpad I brought with me on the honeymoon.

"Spot on. Even more beautiful than I remember." He gave me a soft smile. "Though, there's a problem with this one."

"I might remember things differently."

"It's not one from your prom. This is all wrong!" He showed me the sketch I'd done of him when he was bent over the laptop, the other week.

I rolled my eyes. "This is very artistic."

"My balls are all wrong! And my ass is not that small!"

I choked on my food. "Uh, trust me. I got everything right."

Frowning, Brian lifted the blanket off his lap and stared at his balls, cupping them in one hand. "They're fucking perfect. I'll sue the fucking surgeon if they were anything less than perfect."

"Brian, your balls aren't symmetrical. They never were. I'd know, since I spend more time with them than with you. As for your ass…I really love your small ass."

His jaw clenched and he glared, giving me the silent treatment.

"What? No jokes about my ass being big enough for both of us?" I nudged his ribs.

"Right now, I'm not speaking to you."

"Okay." I chuckled, going back to finishing my breakfast.

He'd soon talk to me.

In three, two…

"Next time I pose for you, you better be wearing glasses."

"Sure, honey."

"And you're going to correct this abnormality." He tapped the paper, raising a brow at me.

I hummed in agreement. Of course, I wouldn't change a thing. It was perfect the way it was. Just like him—insecure and beautiful in his imperfections.

After breakfast, Brian took the cart outside the room, and returned to the bed in a playful mood.

He lounged next to me, caressing my side. "I'm not sure how to act around you now. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I want to celebrate remembering the most beautiful night of my life." I pulled him closer, straddling his hips. "I have back something I thought was forever lost."

He cupped my cheek, smiling. "Good. Still, I'm here if you want to talk about it."

"Once it will sink in, you'll know."

Brian prepared me carefully, before helping me mount him. I moved slowly, lying on top of him, hugging him tightly. At some point, I almost believed we were one person, because of how perfect we worked together. Brian's hands stayed on my back and in my hair, while mine stayed on his face. He never blinked, maintaining eye-contact all through our lovemaking, which made me feel everything more intensely, seeing it reflected in his eyes.

oOo

The plane ride home was long, and I managed to get a little sleep, but not much. Unlike Brian who even drooled on my shoulder. I'd tease him for the rest of his life for the wet spot on my new shirt.

My lack of sleep helped me be productive in working on my sketches, shadowing and finishing some of them.

After our layover, my stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of finally going home. As much as I'd enjoyed every minute spent in Ibiza, I missed our home—beautiful Britin.

Before boarding our plane home on the layover, Brian called Michael to confirm our arrival time. He promised to be there to pick us up. I joked he needed a bigger car with how many bags we had, because Brian couldn't say no to quality clothes and shoes, or the anti-aging cream he found on sale, or even the exquisite painting from the guy painting on the streets. He was definitely an amateur, but he'd made the mistake to paint us from afar then approach us and show us the painting. Brian immediately offered to buy it. The guy was reluctant at first, but couldn't say no to the stash of money Brian pushed into his hands. I'd also made the mistake to say I liked a leather jacket that was absurdly expensive. My mistake taught me to never tell him I liked anything else. Besides those peaches at the fruit market. God, they had been the best I ever had.

When we landed in Pittsburgh, after check-out and baggage claim that took ages, we filled a cart with all our suitcases and shoulder bags.

In the waiting area, we found Ted. I shared a confused look with Brian, before hugging our friend.

"Hi, Ted!"

"Is chauffeur on your job description too? I don't remember it, and I hope you're not expecting more money for driving us home," Brian said seriously, giving Ted one arm hug.

"It's great to have you back!" Ted smiled widely.

"Wait. You're not kidnapping me to Kinnetik, are you?"

"No, Bri. Michael called me to do him a favor. He got a flat and couldn't make it on time."

"Well, thank you, Ted." I squeezed his shoulder.

He winked, leading the way outside the airport. "I had no idea you were into bears," he said over his shoulder, his eyes on the big, plush teddy bear in my arms.

"It's for the baby," I explained.

"We haven't even started working on the nursery room, but we know the baby's all set on having a teddy bear bigger than they'd be until they turn five." Brian rolled his eyes.

"The nursery is the first thing we do when we get home," I declared.

"Maybe you, Sunshine. I plan on sleeping when I get home."

I pushed him playfully. "You slept through the whole plane ride."

"Already fighting?" Ted interjected, shaking his head.

"This is not fighting, Theodore. You haven't seen us fighting."

"Yeah, you don't want to be around when Brian starts screaming. But his bad boy act doesn't scare me." I bumped Brian's shoulder.

He scowled at me, knowing it was the truth.

Ted didn't have much time, so after dropping us home, he left but not before telling Brian he'd see him the next day at work. I promised we'd all get together at the end of the week.

"Leave the bags." Brian pulled me into his arms, kissing me deeply. His hot, insistent mouth made me melt into his embrace.

I half expected him to pick me up, so I wasn't as shocked as back at the hotel when it happened. I kissed along his face to his neck while he walked through the leaves arcade stopping on the porch. I awkwardly unlocked the door from my odd position in his arms.

Brian stepped carefully across the threshold, grinning at me, before stopping in the entry hallway.

"Home." I sighed in relief, closing my eyes and inhaling.

"Home," he echoed, pecking my mouth.

The second I touched the ground, Cupcake came barreling from upstairs, barking loudly. He'd gotten so big. He rose on his back legs, reaching my waist with his muzzle as his whole body shook in eagerness of being reunited.

"Hey boy!" I crouched to hug him, stroking his fur.

"Don't let him lick you. I'm never kissing you again if his disgusting tongue touches your face." Brian warned me over his shoulder as he went after the bags.

I wanted to help, but Cupcake kept me rooted in place, his front paws now on my shoulders.

"I know. I missed you too," I said, stroking between his eyes.

When Brian finished carrying everything inside, he closed the door, looking around. He came closer, patting Cupcake's head. "Did you eat the cat?"

Unless it was my imagination, it seemed the dog answered by shaking his head.

"She's probably in the attic. You know how she loves to sit in that patch of sunlight," I told him.

"I'll go look." He disappeared up the stairs.

I managed to disentangle from the dog long enough to make it to the kitchen. There was a note on the table.

Hi, kids!

I'm sure you had a great time tanning your asses (if you left the hotel room, that is).

I thought Sunshine wouldn't feel like cooking after the long flight so I sent you some food through Michael.

I expect you both for dinner on Saturday, with pictures and stories.

Kisses and love,

Debbie

On the back of the paper was Michael's messy scrawling.

PS: You better do what she said.

You're out of dog food. He's going to eat one of you soon.

Call Ma when you see this! You know how she gets.

I was about to dial Debbie's number, when Brian called me from upstairs. I dodged the still hyper Cupcake and went in search of my husband.

He was in our bedroom.

"I'm going to kill Michael for allowing the dog to roam around the house!"

I stood in the doorway, staring amused at the shredded pillows and chewed sex toys, scattered around the room. I picked a stump of what was once a beautiful blue dildo. I used to like it. "Well…we know Cupcake takes after his daddy."

"All our sex toys—GONE! And the Egyptian cotton pillows—GONE! Fuck."

I went closer, wrapping my arms around Brian. "I thought you were looking for the cat."

He pointed to the windowsill where she stood majestically, looking out the window, ignoring us. Typical feline behavior.

Brian's POV

The first week back turned out to be one hectic mess.

I made sure to let Mikey know how upset I was at him for leaving the animals alone in the house—even if it was only for a day as he claimed. The cat had been great, bless her. The dog was the problem. I told Justin he was a lost cause, and all the training had done little to make him obedient.

Cupcake seemed very fond of our dildos, as fond of them as us. He had his own chew toys, but I guessed our sex toys tasted better. Rabid dog.

On Tuesday, I was hoping for a quiet first day back at work. It didn't happen.

Cynthia greeted me with a hug at the front door, and on the way to my office while she briefed me on the important things that happened in my absence. I received many smiles and "Hi, boss! Good to have you back!" from my employees. It made me question their sanity.

Once in my office, Cynthia pointed to my mug of coffee with a knowing smile.

I needed my drug of choice to help me deal with Gardner and fucking Kip, the dynamic duo who stole the energizing drinks company deal while I'd been on my honeymoon. Vance should have known better than to work behind my back, but in case he'd forgotten it wasn't wise to mess with me, I was going to remind him.

I set one of my graphic designers' team to work on the energizing drinks advertisement, reminding them to do their best work. We needed this account.

Next on my schedule, I had a meeting with a car dealer. He promised me great discounts if I helped him sell ten percent above his set target by the end of the year.

I was discussing it with him when I got a new email, and since our meeting was informal I didn't see the harm in checking the email.

From: Justin Taylor

To: Brian Kinney

Date: August 16, 2010 13:15

Subject: Question

Hi, hubby! :)

I found this awesome website. Try the links below and let me know which one do you like.

I particularly want the red one. The purple one looks cool, too. ;)

PS: Do you have any preference for pillows? I'm going to buy a few later.

PPS: I'm thinking cannelloni for dinner. Yay or nay?

Lots of love,

Justin

Mindlessly and carelessly, I opened one of the links attached to his email. Luckily, my potential client couldn't see the big, sparkling purple dildo on my screen.

"So what do you say, Mr. Kinney? Do we have a deal?" Mr. Ramson asked, hopefully.

"Yeah. Sure." I flashed him a smile, minimizing the webpage. "I'll have a few of my ideas ready for you by the end of the week."

"That sounds great!"

I pressed the intercom button on my desk. "Cynthia, schedule Mr. Ramson for Friday around noon."

"Okay, Brian."

"Thanks." I hung up, relaxing in my chair. "My assistant will call you with an exact time."

He nodded, but didn't get up to leave.

I was still jet lagged, but I had to be a proper host. Getting up, I walked around my desk. He rose as well and gave me an once-over, appreciatively.

Christ. My reputation preceded me.

I cleared my throat, already walking to the door. "I'll walk you out, Mr. Ramson."

"I could do with some more convincing that your company could help me."

"We'll discuss that further on Friday."

"Ah, I see. First, we sign the contract, and then…" A flirty smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing two fingers to my forehead.

If I was honest, he didn't look half bad. He was only a few years older than me, and took care of himself pretty well. But no. I refused to cave.

I was a fucking married man. I'd sworn off other men. If I slipped wrong, I couldn't feel Sunshine in a way I had never been with anyone before him, nor would I after him. There was no after.

"Then, you'll sell more cars than you ever did. I'll see to that," I said firmly.

He pursed his lips, accepting my answer.

We walked outside, and I took a moment to admire his car—a yolk yellow Porsche.

"Nice ride," I commented.

"You could have one too if you help me."

I regarded the car thoughtfully. "Could you email me a list of your bolides? I need them to give me an idea for the campaign."

Truth to be told, I just decided what I was getting Justin for his birthday.

After bidding goodbye to Mr. Ramson, I returned to my office in a much better mood. He seemed to understand I wasn't into my old ways anymore.

Cynthia was leaning against my desk with a murderous look on her face.

"I need more coffee before you start screaming." I shot her a smile, hoping it would work.

"Oh, no! Being all nice won't do the trick. What was that?"

"What?" I slumped into my leather chair, tipping my empty mug at her. "A refill, please?"

"Being polite won't help, either." She glowered.

"What have I done to piss you off?" I groaned, completely clueless.

She widened her eyes, pointing at the door. "You and that man! What are you doing, Brian?"

"I won us a big account, thank you very much."

"Did he blow you in his fancy car?"

I snorted, rolling my eyes.

She was worried I had cheated on Justin. It made me question how much she thought of me in such moments, but then again she knew me better than anyone in Kinnetik when it came to winning clients.

"Cynthia, there's nothing to worry about," I said calmly, finally placing my mug on the desk. It wasn't going to magically refill.

"Really?" Cynthia raised a brow, fighting off a smile.

"Really." I pointed to my ring. "Give me some credit, will you?"

"Oh. I just thought…" She turned red, stuttering. "I'm so sorry, Brian."

"Don't be. You've been witness to so many of my unorthodox methods of nailing accounts, I'm not surprised you thought I'd go back there."

"Still, I shouldn't have…"

I waved her off. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Justin needs my assistance in shopping for new toys." I smirked at her curious yet knowing look. "Oh, and Cyn? Coffee?"

Rolling her eyes, she left with my empty mug, muttering about working for a tyrant. Before she returned, I had selected three dildos, one vibrating plug, and a few cock rings. I attached the links to my response to Justin's email.

From: Brian Kinney

To: Justin Taylor

Date: August 16, 2010 13:55

Subject: RE: Question

If you call me that again, I'll part you from your balls!

Now, on a more cheerful note. Order all the below (see links)

As for the pillows…I don't care. Make sure you're not allergic to them, though.

Cannelloni sounds good. Do you know how to make that gooey sauce that goes on them, too? If not, ask Debbie.

PS: If you come into town…maybe you could drop by? No pressure.

Brian Kinney

CEO Kinnetik

Once I had my fresh coffee, I got to working on the car shop ad.

The ping of a new email pulled me from my brainstorming session.

From: Justin Taylor

To: Brian Kinney

Date: August 16, 2010 14:17

Subject: LMAO!

My darling hubby (at the risk of becoming ball-less. You'll have more then. Kidding. I love you)

I can't stop laughing. Gooey sauce. Oh. My. God!

Béchamel sauce! I know how to make it. Already made it.

I have so many dirty jokes regarding the gooey sauce and asking DEBBIE how to make it…you have NO idea!

I might drop by later just to tell you all about MY gooey sauce. I might let you even sample it. ;)

PS: Are you sure about changing our names? Mel sent me some documents about the whole deal. We might not be able to do it since our marriage isn't recognized. Sucks, I know. I'd have loved to see on your door written: BRIAN A. TAYLOR-KINNEY.

Love,

Justin

I should have known the formalities and Constitution wouldn't allow us to fulfil our dream—Justin's dream. Fuck them. I was still going to write that on my door. For him.

A phone call distracted me from replying to him. Then Mr. Ramson sent me an email with all the cars he was selling. I got lost in browsing for the perfect one for Justin, blocking the world around me.

"Busy, busy?" Justin's voice at my ear made me jump a mile.

I tried minimizing the page with cars, but my shaky fingers didn't cooperate. "Yeah, work."

It was work, so it wasn't entirely a lie.

"You don't drool over work." He plopped on my lap. "Oh, getting a new toy?"

"Actually, it is work related." I ran my hand through his hair. "My newest account is this car shop. I promised the owner to help him raise the sales by the end of the year."

"Whoa. You sure you can do it? These are really expensive cars."

"I'm wounded. Of course, I can do it. The second I figure out how to fool people they want one of these cars, without thinking about the money."

"Take me on a joyride." He bit my earlobe.

"That's not half bad."

"I meant you and me…here. You did promise me office sex."

"I gave you office sex once."

"When?" He demanded. "Not the blow job I gave you a few months ago, that's not sex."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Remember when we got back together while you interned at Vanguard? It was in my office."

His eyes lit up. "Oh, then! But that was ages ago. It doesn't count." He stood, taking my hands and tugging me up. "Show me to your bathroom, sir."

I couldn't say no to that invitation. I pressed the intercom button. "Cynthia, hold my calls."

"You have a meeting at four PM!"

I checked the time; still fifteen minutes to go. "Plenty of time." I clicked the button off, then led Justin to the bathroom.

"Naughty, naughty." He giggled, leaning against the closed door, palming his boner.

"Instead of talking, you better decide where you want my cock."

"Always the romantic."

"If you don't choose fast, I will."

Justin smirked, turning me around to face the mirror above the sink.

No! I glared at our reflection.

Yes. He smoothed a hand over my back, grinning from ear to ear.

"Justin." I gritted my teeth.

His hands deftly worked my zipper, letting my dress pants and boxers pool at my ankles.

"I don't think so, Sunshine!" The brat had to understand me bottoming wasn't going to happen whenever he wanted.

Sadly, my resolve broke the second he knelt behind me, parting my cheeks, and blowing over my hole.

I'd been a great teacher in Rimming 101. He was top of the class. Top being the key word.

In between stretching and teasing me mercilessly, Justin actually gave me time to push him away and take control. Every cell in my body screamed at me to show him who was in charge, but all I did was bend over the sink, resting my elbows on the edge, bow my head, and spread my legs further to give him better access to my ass.

"You won't regret it," he whispered, rubbing a hand over my hip.

He stood up and slowly slipped his dick into me. I doubted I'd ever get used to the burn, to the feeling of being filled.

"Fuuuck!"

"Hurts?" Justin asked worried, his fingers squeezing my hip.

"No. Don't stop," I urged him.

"Wasn't planning on it." Justin placed one hand on my shoulder and the other wrapped around my dick, pumping it steadily.

His slow rhythm was killing me. The burn was delicious, making me crazy with want.

"Fuck me faster," I rasped out.

"Say please."

The little shit. I refused to give into it and start begging like some slut.

When he didn't get the desired response out of me, Justin made sure to nail my prostate in agonizingly slow strokes. His hand fisted my hair at the back of my head, his nails scrapping my scalp.

Justin tugged my head back, and our eyes met in the mirror. His eyes were so dilated I could barely see their beautiful blue color, I loved so much. His lips pressed to my ear, hot breath making shivers run down my spine.

"Beg," he breathed out.

I moaned loudly as he pumped my dick faster only to cease all movements after a short while.

"I want to hear you beg for my dick, Brian."

I was on the brink of insanity. I had never been so close and been denied. My technique of holding my release was perfected, but never had I stopped myself moments away from exploding. It fucking hurt.

Justin squeezed the base of my dick making me wince. "Say you want my big cock up your tight ass. Say you love it deep inside you. Say it!"

"Fuck, Justin." I groaned. "Fuck me with your big dick. Please fill me up! I want to feel you inside me hours after you've finished. Fuck me hard!"

At that point, I didn't care who heard me screaming for dick. All I knew was I'd die if he didn't move.

"Such beautiful words." He grinned, kissing my shoulder.

Anchoring himself better and gripping my shoulder tightly, he stared ramming into me.

"That's it!" I shouted, throwing my head back. "Fuck, yes!"

I could never get enough of feeling him bare moving inside me, or honestly, I couldn't get used to the idea of accepting so easily to have him fuck me. Before him, there had been only two people there, and it had happened so long ago I couldn't remember it.

For years, I fooled myself there was nothing special about Justin, but everything about him was special. He was the only one I trusted enough to give myself to, entirely. The other times I'd managed to be in charge too. With Justin, from the first time I allowed him to top me, I offered him my ass, surrendering to him.

"Harder," I begged, gripping the edge of the sink.

He complied obediently, earning a loud moan from me when he pushed forcefully into me, sending my hips crashing into the sink.

I hadn't been so vocal during sex in my life. Especially when I allowed him to top me. I usually stayed quiet, letting him enjoy and cherish the experience. Apparently, that had changed. I was all for screaming at how much I loved him fucking me.

I knew as much as he loved my dick up his ass, he needed to pound an ass, and since our exclusive relationship denied him that pleasure, it was up to me to give him that. Marriage was all about giving and taking, right?

Too soon for my liking, my orgasm ripped through me, sending Justin into his own. The feeling of his hot seed spurting inside me was a bigger turn on than I ever thought possible.

When he slipped out, I spun around, managing not to fall since my feet were tangled in my pants, and caught him in a fierce kiss. Justin smiled against my lips, returning the kiss with vigor, pushing his tongue into my mouth.

"Brian? Mr. Carlson is in the conference room." Cynthia's shaky voice came from the other side of the door. Her undertone made me realize everyone had heard us.

"I'll be right there. Five minutes, tops!"

We rearranged our clothes, and Justin offered to help me clean up as best as possible. "Don't be embarrassed. So what? You take it up the ass from your husband." He kissed my cheek lovingly. Opening the door, Justin pushed me out. "Now, go be awesome!" He even slapped my ass for good measure.

With one last amused look over my shoulder, I went to the conference room. The meeting ran smoothly, and Cynthia was her professional self, except I knew better. I caught too many knowing looks from her whenever our eyes met.

At the end of the meeting, we walked Mr. Carlson out, then returned back to my office together. I tried not to cringe when I felt something on my inner thigh. It was probably the only thing I hated about fucking raw. It was so damn messy.

"Anything else for today?" I tried distracting myself.

"Nothing work related."

"Whatever you heard, you better keep your mouth shut."

"It's in my job description to be discreet, Brian. But you can't expect everyone to stay quiet."

"Everyone heard?" I glared around us. They all seemed to busy themselves as I passed them.

Great.

Cutting their tongues might help. And fingers so they wouldn't be able to write.

"You might want to soundproof your office," Cynthia suggested. "I'm sure you're going to have more domestic visits from Justin."

"It's none of their business if I decide to fuck my husband in my office or on the front desk," I snapped.

"Brian, you weren't exactly quiet. Even I'm surprised." She gave me a small, curious smile.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, now you, along with everyone else in the company know my little secret. And I EXPECT YOU TO KEEP IT A FUCKING SECRET!" I yelled so everyone could hear me.

Everyone froze, watching me like deer caught in the headlights. I bet they weren't so happy I was back anymore.

I stormed into my office, and found Justin on my chair with an apprehensive look on his face.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked in a small voice.

I blinked, surprised he was still there, and then at his stupid question. "No. Why would I be? You didn't do anything wrong. Now, let's go home."

"Ready to taste my gooey sauce?"

I pulled him up, wrapping an arm around his neck. "Twat." I bent to kiss his lips softly.

"Your twat."

"My twat." I laughed, hugging him tightly.

Justin's POV

"For fuck's sake, we're already half an hour late! What are you doing in there?" I hit the bathroom door with the heel of my palm.

"I died!" Brian moaned, finally opening the door. "I'm never leaving the house again. Now, get out of my way. I'm going to crawl under the blanket and die in peace."

"Why aren't you dressed? And what are you mumbling about?"

"My life is over. Caput. Finite."

Taking a calming breath, I followed the drama queen to the bed. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? Anything hurting?"

Brian pulled the blanket over his head. "It was too good to be true. I could have lived thirty nine more years without seeing that thing on my body."

"What thing?" He was freaking me out.

"Go, tell the others I'll send a postcard from the asylum."

I snatched the blanket away, narrowing my eyes at him. I didn't even care how miserable he looked at the moment. "Talk to me, Brian!"

He rolled on his stomach, pulling the pillow over his head, mumbling something unintelligible.

"Christ! Stop being a drama queen. Tell me what's wrong." I sat next to him, rubbing his lower back. I was so scared of what he'd found. "It's not…you know…" I couldn't even say it. My hand moved lower, brushing his ass, and stopping between his thighs.

"It's not that," he said softly, turning his head and meeting my eyes. "It's worse."

I choked on my spit. "Worse than fucking cancer?"

"A lot. It's here. Mocking me." He tapped his temple.

"What's there?" I leaned closer, but he quickly turned his head away.

"No. I'm all gross."

"Jesus, Brian. If you're queening over nothing, as I suspect, I'm going to kill you. Show me what you found!"

I forcedly moved his head to the other side. It wasn't hard to miss the object of his problem. It stood out amongst his otherwise dark hair—one lone white hair.

"I don't see anything," I lied.

"How can you not? I'm getting old. I have gray hair—testimony of my imminent death."

"As you said, you're lucky this is your first. Though, I still don't see it. Now, get dressed." I slapped his ass, getting up.

"I'm not going anywhere like this!" He whined.

"Do you want me to pull it out?"

His lack of dirty jokes showed how worried he was about the situation. "So now you suddenly see it? And don't you dare touch it! If you rip it off, five more will grow in its place."

Christ. I ran my hands through my hair, aggravated. I grabbed his clothes from the bathroom and threw them on top of him. "Get dressed this instant! Or I swear to God…"

"Usually, you're fucking hot when you're bossy," he mumbled.

"Brian, Debbie will rip our balls and cook them for dinner if we're any later."

He scowled at me, but took his shirt off mechanically.

By the time he was ready, both our phones were on fire. I ignored them.

During the drive to Debbie's, Brian kept touching his right temple, making me swat at his hand.

"No one will notice if you don't draw attention to yourself."

He stopped fidgeting, and regained some of his usual confidence.

When we arrived, Debbie hugged us fiercely, exclaiming how much she'd missed us, then she slapped us behind the head for giving fashionably late a whole new meaning. One hour and a half was simply not acceptable to be late.

Brian bristled. "Do you think I roll out of bed and look like this? Perfection takes time, Debbie."

I knuckled my forehead, joining Emmett in the kitchen. He hugged me, whispering in my ear that everyone was starving.

"Don't look at me. I married the biggest queen on the face of the earth," I defended myself.

"I heard that, dear." Brian appeared from behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders bringing me to his chest. He kissed my cheek soundly.

I opened my mouth to call him out on denying my words weren't true, when Michael and Ben descended, joining us.

"Mikey, Professor." Brian went to them, and I knew he was going to say something totally stupid. "Had a quickie in your old room? Naughty, naughty."

Michael rolled his eyes. "We almost lost all hope in seeing you today. And no. We weren't fucking."

"Too bad." Brian threw me a smile. "I'm sure you remember being a newlywed."

If only his words were true. That would have been a good excuse, but it was only his fault we were late.

"You've always acted like newlyweds. Ever since you met," Debbie declared.

I turned red, knowing she was right.

"No need to be embarrassed, Sunshine. You have a healthy relationship." Emmett patted my head.

"Maybe a little too healthy," Ted added from his seat at the table next to Blake. The look on his face proved he was thinking of Brian and my sexcapade at Kinnetik earlier that week.

"So do you want presents now or later?" Brian changed the subject, already taking a seat at the table.

"After we eat. Everyone is hungry." Debbie shook her finger at Brian, who didn't even look at her.

He pulled the chair next to his out from under the table and patted it, grinning at me. I sat down, whispering in his ear, "Behave."

He gave me a mock-scandalized look. I returned it, earning a bigger smile from him. It made me smile back.

Brian combed his fingers on the side of my head, pressing his lips to my neck. In turn, I stroked the back of his head, keeping him close.

"Look at them! Aren't they sweet?" Emmett gushed, wiping a fake-tear from his eye.

"Fuck off, Honeycutt," Brian snapped, pulling away from me.

Yeah, fuck off. I glared at Emmett.

Brian leaned over me to stab his fork in a cherry tomato and a ball of mozzarella. I touched his shoulder to let him know I wasn't happy about the interruption, either.

Thankfully, the conversation wasn't centered on us.

Emmett kept talking about one of his upcoming parties, Michael threw out ideas for the new Rage issue to me, while Brian and Ted talked about lining up guys for interviewing regarding the event organizer for Babylon.

By the time Debbie served dessert—ice cream—we were somehow discussing organizing the nursery room, and how I had to focus on that, but my upcoming show was a priority. If I estimated correctly, I could be done two weeks before the opening.

Brian surprised me by all of a sudden bringing a teaspoon of ice cream to my lips. After accepting the cool dessert, he leaned closer, kissing me. I felt him smiling against my lips.

"Ice cream kiss," he whispered, licking at my bottom lip.

I grinned, amazed he remembered the time when we'd shared a bowl of vanilla ice cream at the loft. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"More," I whispered back, pressing my forehead to his.

Brian brought another teaspoon to my lips, smearing the ice cream on my lips before devouring them. I had to remind myself we were at the table with our family.

"Look how lovey-dovey they are!" Emmett boasted.

It made Brian pull away, narrowing his eyes at our friend. "Don't use that horrid expression when you're talking about me!"

I tried to shift his attention from Emmett by feeding him some vanilla and strawberry ice cream.

Despite everyone watching us amused, we kept feeding each other until Debbie broke the silence, asking me about Daphne. It distracted me from the task at hand and I managed to get ice cream on Brian's cheek.

"Sorry." I wiped his face with my thumb, kissing him for good measure. "She's fine. We're going to her appointment on Monday."

"You're going with them, right?" Michael gave Brian a stern look.

"I guess so." Brian shrugged. "Someone needs to catch Sunshine when he faints."

"I won't faint!"

"Okay, then I'll gag you. Daphne made the mistake of sending us pictures on the honeymoon. He was glued to the laptop wooing and ahhing for hours!" Brian explained with a roll of his eyes.

"You were, too."

"Don't pay attention to him." Michael waved a hand dismissively. "After Lindsay's first ultrasound when he saw Gus, he was in shock for hours."

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth. "There was something small and alive inside my friend. Something—someone I helped create. I was allowed to be in shock."

I stroked his head, kissing his temple. "I have a feeling it will be the other way round. You'll be the one doing the fainting," I teased.

"I don't do fainting. Fainting is for dykes."

I was about to point out he said I'd faint, and I definitely wasn't a dyke, when Emmett pointed at Brian, chuckling.

"You got a little ice cream. Right there." He gestured to Brian's temple.

I cringed, expecting the ticking bomb Brian had been ever since he discovered the white hair, to explode.

"It's not ice cream," he answered calmly.

"Eww. You have cum in your hair." Ted shuddered.

"I prefer hair products to style my hair." Brian smirked.

"Then what the fuck is that? It looks suspiciously like cum." Debbie gave Ted a smile.

I glanced at the forbidden area and in better light; I could see not one but three white hairs, one next to the other. Oh, shit. It wasn't going to end well.

"If you were painting the room, I'd say it was white paint," Ben said thoughtfully.

"But it's nooot!" Michael sang, catching on. His eyes were fastened to the white hair. "Welcome to the Gray Hair Club. Memberships are for life."

"It's white," Brian muttered, covering the area with his palm.

"Oh, my God! I've been spared of such horror. I still have my youth." Emmett sighed in relief.

"The only one of us who doesn't have to worry about growing old for another decade or so is Justin," Ted declared.

I rubbed Brian's shoulder, knowing the snide remarks didn't help his bruised ego.

"And even then, it wouldn't be noticeable. He's blond." Debbie winked.

"That's it. I'm dying my hair," Brian exclaimed.

"The hell you are!" I snapped. "I love your hair the way it is. Besides, I'm allergic to hair dye."

That shut him up, and we eventually moved to the sitting room where we showed them pictures from Ibiza. I made sure to say as many times as possible how much I'd loved every moment there.

At some point, we got confused over some pictures and their location, which resulted into a small quarrel.

"You need to get your story straight," Emmett demanded.

"Anyway, I still like the tree." I beamed, glad to show them how beautiful that old tree I immortalized was. I was probably going to paint it at some point. That was how much I loved it.

Brian kept saying it was just a tree, but then again he wasn't an artist. He wouldn't understand.

"We need a rehearsal for tomorrow for talking about the pictures. Your mom would like to know all about them," he said almost mockingly, clicking on the next picture.

Sadly, I hadn't sorted them out well enough. Some of our personal photos got mixed up with the safe ones everyone could see.

The one we were looking at was awfully personal. Not even Brian knew I'd taken it. He was asleep, face down, the thin sheet covering a few inches of his ass, but I liked the way his feet dangled off the bed. I'd always liked his feet, but in that particular moment they'd looked exceptionally beautiful.

"What the fuck? Now I know why you were tired in the morning. You spent your nights being a creep," he muttered, elbowing me in the ribs.

I laughed, slapping his arm. "This got mixed up. Sorry."

That wasn't the only one, though. Thankfully, none from our nude photo shoot ended up in this folder. That had been all Brian's idea on one afternoon when we were supposed to enjoy our post coital bliss.

By the end of showing them our memories and telling them about our adventures, it was late at night.

Before we left, Ben gave us a DVD of our stag party. I dreaded seeing what exactly had happened.

Brian's POV

I looked at the time again, certain I was going to be late. Justin's show was going to start in less than fifteen minutes.

Just then, a knock on the door grabbed my attention.

"Come in!"

Derek stepped into my office confidently, holding three storyboards.

"Let's see the Halloween costumes everyone will want to buy." I waved him closer.

He smiled, propping the boards on the back of the couch. I truly wanted to return his smile and actually shake his hand. But it wasn't the case. I hoped he'd keep up the great work he'd done on the car shop advertisement, which had been a success.

These pictures were anything but sexy. They seemed to portray scenes from a Hitchcock movie, right after the character had been murdered.

"What the fuck is this? You do know Jason would like to see these in two fucking days, right? I can't show him a horror movie!"

"Brian, you gave me the liberty to put a personal touch to it."

"Seriously? If you saw that bloodied man in ripped clothes, you'd run to the store and buy the costume?" I raised my eyebrow, skeptical. The sight made me ill. "And don't get me started on that poor child. Did you seriously dress him up to look like fucking Chucky? As for the woman, she looks like the chick from Psycho."

Derek tried making his point, but I wasn't listening.

"You're with me for what? Three years, Derek? You're not head of the Art Department for nothing." The smug look on his face showed me he thought I was praising him. "But you screwed up here. Royally. What is my motto? Make the thing attractive, sexy, and fuck, you ruined it. There were endless great possibilities with Halloween, but you screwed up, Derek." I took a calming breath, which didn't do much. "Now, get the fuck out of here!" I pointed to the door. "I want new storyboards by tomorrow morning. Ten am."

"What? How am I supposed to do that?"

"Not my problem. You're a big boy. Figure it out on your own." I snatched my jacked from the hanger. "I have to get to the gallery for Justin's show."

By the time I arrived, I had managed to calm down.

Even though I ended up being fashionably late, like every time I went somewhere, I was still greeted with Champagne.

I mingled, admiring the paintings displayed in the first area. Justin hadn't allowed me to drop by the gallery or see anything before the big day. All I'd seen were the canvas wrapped in brown paper when I helped him carry them down the stairs at home, then stored them into the truck taking them to the gallery a week ago.

All I knew was the show was entitled Love & Life.

I spotted Justin near the second section of the gallery, chatting with a balding man.

On my way to him, I took a detour to admire the displayed art. The brochure in my hand explained the first section represented Life in every form.

One showed the sunset, reminding me of one of our evenings in Ibiza. The second painting was of the old tree Justin had loved so much, again something from our honeymoon. And lastly, the third painting represented an autumn leaf with a slug on it. I had to hand it to him, the slug was impeccable.

Curious about what the next section, called Love, I made my way there.

In the archway between the first two rooms, I stopped next to the artiste himself. "Is the sunset inspired by Ibiza?" I whispered in his ear.

Justin startled, turning to beam at me. "Brian! You made it."

"I promised I'd be here. Sorry. Work held me for longer than I planned." I kissed his cheek.

"It's okay. Let me show you around. And yes, the sunset is inspired by Ibiza. The whole show inspired by the honeymoon. It's all about life and love."

I draped my arm around his shoulders. "Give me the tour of honor."

He smirked, steering me to the nearest painting. "Here we have another three paintings. They represent love in one form or another, just like the others represent life."

In the second section, the art showed a child and a puppy playing, a couple embracing and a mother cradling her swollen belly.

"Does Daphne know?" I nodded to the last painting.

"Of course, she does. She even offered to pose. I only had to accentuate the belly to make it more artistic."

"I see. What about the couple? Is that us?" I nuzzled his ear, biting the lobe.

The two figures were shown from a distance, but I could see us in their pose.

Justin pushed my face away, escaping my tongue in his ear. "It's us. It's them." He discreetly pointed to a young couple next to us admiring the painting. "I made sure not to show their faces and make it as diffuse as possible. It's all about the street lamp behind them, the snowflakes falling from the sky, their love."

"It's us," I insisted, not taking my eyes off the painting. "No one in their right mind would pick their future husband off from under a street lamp."

Justin turned red, shushing me, and dragging me away. "I want to sell something, so please keep your jokes to yourself."

"It's no joke. Did you forget? Here I thought I was the one who was high that night."

"What I mean is…"

I put a finger to his lips. "I know. You're a good boy." I pecked his lips, stroking a hand through his hair. "Now, show me the pièce de résistance."

"Aren't you hungry? The finger food is amazing. Fuck the carbs." Justin clasped my hand, taking me to the refreshments table. "Maybe you want a refill of your glass."

"Justin." I gave him a stern look, stopping him.

"Please, don't go into the last room." He swallowed hard, begging me with his eyes. "There's only one painting and it combines the theme for this show—both life and love. But, don't." His voice cracked, getting me more and more curious.

"Why am I not allowed to see it?"

"You'll be upset. I doubt anyone would understand what it means, but I know you would. I even heard some people talking about it saying how it shows raw pain and fighting for life and there is so much love. It's exactly what I wanted to express."

"I need a refill." I tapped my glass.

If I escaped him, I could slip into the last area without him noticing. I had to see what he'd done. A feeling in my gut told me it had to do with his prom, but I pushed it away. Even now that he had his treasured memory back, I knew Justin wouldn't willingly do something like that.

"You go mingle. Sell them all, Picasso." I cupped his cheek, kissing him softly.

"Promise you won't go."

I smiled in answer.

He knew I was curious and I would go to see what the fuss was about, and there was nothing he could do about it.

At the refreshments table, I found Mikey, chewing on a cracker. He raised a brow at me. "Did you just get here?"

I shook my head. "Earlier. Justin showed me around, but I let him play host. Did you see anything you like?"

"I'm not an art critic, but he's really talented."

He kept his eyes on me as if I was going to break. It made me nervous. "What?"

"What do you think of the last painting?" He touched my elbow, his eyes full of concern.

"I'm forbidden to see it," I explained.

Mikey sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. Don't look at it. I can't believe Justin did that."

"Now I'm even more curious."

He tried to distract me by asking about the project I wanted to implement at Babylon, about naming every day of the week something, like Moaning Mondays.

When Debbie and Ben joined us, coming from the last room, both shaken, Debbie more than Ben, I knew I had to see that painting.

I expected the worst as I got closer to the last room. I spotted Justin in the corner of the second area, chatting with a fine-dressed woman. Our eyes met, and all I could see reflected in his baby blues was worry.

In the last area of the gallery, the lone painting was displayed on an easel sitting in the middle of the room, under a dim spotlight.

The few people who were in the room when I arrived, left, commenting on the emotions displayed.

My heart stopped when I saw the object painted. The canvas was black, and in the middle of it, as if fall from the sky, was the white, silk scarf, twisted and bloodied.

For seconds on end, I stared at the painting numbly.

How many days, weeks, months have I worn that scarf? Unable to part from it.

How many times did I hold it tightly when a nightmare woke me up?

No one had known what I was wearing under my clothes…until Justin stripped me of everything the night he allowed me back in.

A hand on my shoulder made me jump.

"You're so fucking stubborn, Brian," Justin whispered, wrapping both arms around my waist.

I cleared my throat, to make sure my voice wouldn't break when I talked. "How much?" It still cracked during the last word, but I didn't give a fuck.

All I wanted in that moment was the painting. No one was allowed to have that piece of us. It was private.

I couldn't bring myself to be mad at Justin for painting such a beautiful thing. I knew it was his way of saying goodbye to that horrible part of his life. He was going to focus on thinking of the dance, just like I should.

"You mean how stubborn are you?" He snuggled closer. "The answer is a whole lot."

"I mean how much for the painting."

Justin's eyes widened as he tilted his head to look at me. "You're not serious."

"I am. This is private, besides…I want it."

"You don't want it. You just don't want others to see it."

"Maybe so. Now… Will ten be enough?"

"Ten bucks?" He chuckled.

"Ten grand," I said seriously.

"No."

"More? Tell me a price."

He shook his head, looking away.

"Sunshine. I want it. This is us!"

"It's sold," he said in a small voice.

"What? Who bought it? Fuck. Why would you put it up for sale?"

"Patty, the curator, told me it sold for an obscene amount of money."

"How much? Who got it? I'm going to buy it out from them."

"Only Patty knows names. She's taking care of everything. She didn't even give me the exact amount."

"More than I offered?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah. And I'll have you murdered if you out-buy this person."

I smirked, before pecking his lips. "Make sure to choose a nice coffin for me." I walked out of the room, ready to track Patty.

Justin was hot on my heels, hissing at me to drop it. If he thought I'd give up so fast, he didn't know me that well.

We reached Patty, who was busy with a potential client. Justin turned me to face him, insisting I should give it a rest and be glad we wouldn't have to see it for the rest of our lives. Even if I stored the painting somewhere I would never see it again, I still wanted it. No one had the right to see that part of us.

"Is everything okay?" Patty joined us, looking concerned.

"Yes," Justin answered.

"No," I said louder, fixating her with my eyes. "Who bought the scarf painting? Tell them it's not for sale. It was a misunderstanding. They can have any other painting at half the price."

"It's sold!" Justin cried out, exasperated.

I ignored him. "Who bought it? Point them out to me. I'll go explain the situation," I told Patty.

Her eyes moved between Justin and me, worried and somewhat embarrassed.

"There's no situation, Brian. It's sold. It's over. Done." Justin groaned.

Patty looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She finally caught my eye.

"I doubt you want that, Mr. Kinney. The man offered a small fortune for the painting in question."

When I kept eye-contact, she caved. Peeking at Justin, who was fuming, she told us how much he'd offered. "One million. It's absurd."

"What?" Justin squeaked.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "But that's insane. Not even famous painters don't get sold at such high prices. Sorry, Sunshine, but really…" I kissed his temple.

He knew how much I loved and supported his art, but there was something fishy about such a high priced acquisition.

"Could you tell us who?" He almost begged Patty.

"That gentleman." She waved her hand in the direction of a group of fine dressed men. "The one in the gray suit."

I was about to ask which one, because there we two in gray suits, when I saw Justin paling.

"Fuck," he spat, balling his fists to his side. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"Is there something wrong? Something I don't know about your New York adventures?" I chose my words carefully, unsure how to approach the subject.

"Eugene Benoît. He's a famous French art critic and collector of undiscovered young talents. He approached me a handful of times in New York. I always rejected him."

"We can go over there and explain that Patty didn't know the scarf painting wasn't for sale—a miscommunication."

"Brian, he already bought it."

"Are you forgetting I bullshit people for a living? Let me handle this."

"Okay. I'll be around… I need a drink."

I found the right moment when this Eugene guy ripped himself from the group to go admire the slug painting.

"Very powerful, isn't it?" I stopped right behind him.

He nodded, not turning to me. "I like the details. The diversity every painting expresses. This is truly life in the rawest form."

"Yes, Justin is really talented," I agreed, fighting off a smile.

Eugene turned to me. "You know him?"

"You can say that." I pressed my lips together, not looking away from the art in front of us. "Justin is my husband."

Eugene threw me a skeptical look, but realized soon I wasn't joking, when I made sure to lift my glass to my lips with my left hand. His eyes fastened on the ring.

"Well, I had no idea he was seeing anyone, let alone getting hitched."

I shrugged, deciding to spare him the details of our complicated relationship. "Yes, we've been together for years; which brings me to the reason I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Benoît. First, my name is Brian Kinney."

He shook my hand. "I apologize, Mr. Kinney. I will stop asking Justin to visit France over summer. Now I understand his refusals had to do with your relationship."

His words threw me. Luckily, I managed to school my features before he saw right through me.

Justin never told me about New York, and I never asked. All I knew was that he'd made a name for himself.

"That's not what I wanted to tell you, though I'd appreciate if you stopped hitting on my husband." I gave him my most fake smile. He tried looking appalled, but I rolled my eyes. "You see, Eugene, there's been an itsy bitsy misunderstanding. The painting you want is not for sale. Patty must have forgotten Justin's instructions. The scarf painting is not for sale," I repeated.

"I already gave her a check."

"Don't worry. I assure you she didn't run to the bank to cash it out." I patted his shoulder. "I'll make you a deal. You can have any painting at half their price."

I looked around, grinning. I knew I won him when he closed his eyes, sighing.

"It holds sentimental value to you, doesn't it? That's why you want to keep it. I haven't seen such raw emotions coming off a canvas in a long time. Only Justin could make it so credible," he said quietly, never taking his eyes off mine.

"As I said, you can't have it." I couldn't believe how easily he read me. People I knew for years couldn't do it so fast.

"I understand. Okay. Then I'll have this one." He nodded to the slug one. "I hope you don't mind, though, if I pay the same amount for it."

"That's crazy," I blurted out. "It's too much."

"I believe in Justin. From the first second I've seen his work in New York." He smiled, touching my arm. "He deserves to have his paintings in a museum. I trust you to help him see his dream come true."

I stared after Eugene as he went to Patty, most likely to change his purchasing.

"So, what happened? Another Brian Kinney success?" Justin approached me, handing me a fresh drink.

"You're amazing," I whispered, before kissing him deeply.

"I am?"

"Yes. I'll make it a personal goal to help you become a fucking success."

"You didn't cave for his bullshit, did you?" He watched me worried.

"No trips to France any time soon."

Justin looked away, turning red. "I should have told you about this, but it never came up. It was never an option."

"Good. Because I want to see Paris together some day." I squeezed him close. "I can't wait to take you home and show you how much…"

"…you love me." He winked. "See? It's fun finishing each other's sentences."

Justin's POV

After the success I had with my solo, my career was slowly headed in the right direction. I'd been invited to other galleries where famous artists had their art displayed, and some were even out of state.

When the euphoria died down, I realized I had to focus on the next issue of Rage, and there was Daphne, of course. We had to work on the nursery room.

Before doing any of these, Brian and I had an important visit to Canada to make. It was the end of September, which meant Gus's birthday. We'd promised to be there.

We told Lindsay we'd arrive on Saturday, early morning, but once Brian was back from work on Friday he told me to finish packing. He'd found an early flight and switched them.

I gave him a whole lecture on calling to consult me next time he makes a change. He didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation.

So there we were, two hours later, driving in the rental car from the airport to their home. I hadn't been over yet, and Toronto was all new to me.

It was late evening when we rang their doorbell.

"I'll get it!" Gus shouted.

"No!" Mel's warning was lost to the door being pulled open and Gus staring at us in shock.

"Dad! Jus!" He enveloped both of us in a bear hug.

Mel appeared behind him, dishtowel in hand. "You're here," she said in disbelief. "Gus, honey, let them come in."

"Hi, Mel." I ruffled Gus's hair, before sidestepping him, and hugging Mel.

Lindsay joined us, equally surprised. She managed to bring Gus inside, but his arms were still around Brian.

I couldn't stop smiling at the pair of them.

Lindsay kissed my cheek. "You're early."

I smiled sheepishly in apology, but Gus's exuberance stopped me from explaining our early arrival.

"Come with me. I'll show you how I rearranged my room. I put the guitar you got me for Christmas last year on the wall, like the rock stars!"

"Gus, take a breath. I'm sure Brian is tired. You better show them to the guest room. Dinner will be ready soon," Lindsay said, shaking her head at her child.

"Right!" Gus nodded distracted, taking my hand. "You have to see my drawings! I got an A in Art Class."

Lindsay shared an exasperated look with Mel, but we didn't mind.

Gus led Brian and me up the stairs, holding our hands and talking a mile per minute. Brian grinned at me over his head. I smiled back.

In his room, he showed us how he had decorated, he made sure to point to the small electric guitar on the wall next to the bed, only ten thousand times, and he pulled all his school work to show us his good grades.

"It's real?" I whispered, pointing to the guitar.

"Yes." Brian smirked. "The munchers weren't happy at all."

"But who cares?" Gus quipped up. I wasn't aware he was paying attention. "Daddy, you promised to teach me that song."

"I will, Sonny Boy. Now that you showed us all your cool stuff, can we go bring our bags in?"

"I'll help!" He was the first out the door.

"God, he's so hyper." I knuckled my forehead.

"It's because we're here. He always gets extra excited when I visit, since it's not very often," Brian explained.

"Maybe we can bring him over next summer. I'm sure he'd love it."

"Sounds like a good plan. Linz said something about Christmas last time we spoke."

"Christmas would be tough. Daph is due in December. I'm sure we'll be too busy. I don't want Gus to feel excluded when we start fussing around the baby."

"Come on, guys! We have to install you in your room! Then I want to show what presents I got at school." Gus returned to our side, urging us to hurry down the stairs.

On the way outside, I caught Lindsay watching us. She mouthed, "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. It didn't matter he was hogging us. Gus was the main reason we were there, anyway.

By the time dinner was ready, we were settled into the guest room and Gus brought the mini car collection he got for his birthday from his friends at school. I doubted I'd seen someone as excited as he was.

Every few minutes, he'd look at us and grin big, or simply come closer and hug us.

At dinner we saw JR for the first time since we arrived. We tried to talk to her, but she kept pouting, and Gus told us not to waste our time with the cry-baby.

Eventually, Mel managed to pull out of JR what had her so upset.

Why wasn't her daddy visiting too?

"It's my birthday! They came for me," Gus told her with an air of importance.

Tears spilled from her eyes at her brother's cruel words. To everyone's surprise, Brian called Michael and put JR on the phone with her daddy. She forgot about her tears as soon as she heard Michael.

I leaned closer to Brian, stroking his hair and kissing his cheek. "Who said you're a bad dad?"

"I'm my worst critic."

I laughed, kissing his lips. He returned the gesture, until we realized we were still at the table. Mel and Linz were watching us with matching smiles, but Gus was scowling.

"Can you not be gross?"

"We're not gross," Brian demanded, squeezing me close to his side.

"You just exchanged spit at the table. I've lost my appetite."

I watched worried as he got up and left.

"You're not excused!" Mel called after him, but didn't get a reaction.

"Don't worry. Everyone who kisses or does anything remotely romantic is gross at the moment," Lindsay explained.

"Maybe we should go apologize for traumatizing him," I offered.

"Daddy wants to talk to you, Uncle Bri." JR put the phone in Brian's hand. "Thank you." She smiled big.

"Anytime." He winked, getting up and putting the phone to his ear. "What, Mikey?"

"If you really want to go to Gus, then take some cookies with you." Mel pushed the plate my way.

I put a few cookies on my plate, then went to Gus's room. I wanted to show him the presents we brought with us, but I knew Brian would like to be around for that.

Gus was on his bed, holding a teddy bear I remember Brian bringing him many years ago.

"Hey, Gus. Mind if I come in? I have chocolate chip cookies."

"Like that makes everything better," he mumbled.

"It doesn't? I remember I used to live for when Mom made me chocolate chip cookies."

"Were you subjected to watching your parents suck face every minute of the day?" He cocked his head to the side.

I sat at the foot of his bed, after placing the plate on his nightstand. "I don't remember. They might have kissed, but I liked seeing them kiss. They were happy back then."

"Kissing is gross."

"Not necessarily. You won't think like this in a few years."

"I seriously doubt it. You haven't seen my moms kissing. And now you guys! Ugh."

"I'm sure seeing your moms kiss is gross," I admitted. It was, even for me, but I was biased. "As for your dad and me…well…"

"What Justin is trying to say is that we're never gross, Sonny Boy," Brian said, stepping into the room.

Gus scowled. "I could have lived without seeing you exchange spit. Was that my birthday present?"

I pressed my palms to my face to muffle my laughter. He was so much like Brian, it was freaky. Gus had inherited the snark, and I wasn't sure if it was okay for a ten year old to use it.

"Presents!" Brian nodded in agreement.

"I'll bring them," I offered, in an attempt to be able to laugh once alone, away from Gus.

In no time we were all gathered in Gus's room. He was ripping present after present, not caring much of what Brian was telling him. Gus didn't care if the present was from Auntie Em or Uncle Ted or even Grandma Debbie; he was on a mission to unwrap them all and exclaim how much he'd wanted whatever he found inside.

When he found the signed football from Drew, he held it tightly, beaming and making us promise to thank him many times for the awesome present.

Even though it wasn't her birthday, JR got her share of presents too. Of course, the one she loved the most was the doll she got from Michael and Ben, and wouldn't let go of it.

With everything unwrapped and gushed over, the kids were drop dead tired. Mel and Lindsay took JR to bed, leaving us to tuck Gus in.

He didn't want a story, demanding he wasn't a child anymore, but he wanted us to stay there until he fell asleep. Brian lounged next to him, and I sat at his feet, rubbing them, earning small bursts of laughter from him. He'd even inherited Brian's ticklish spots.

Sometime later, Brian made sure Gus was indeed asleep, before taking my hand and leading me out of the room.

In our allotted room, we took a shower, changed in our pajamas then went in search of our friends. After a little while of talking to them, we decided to call it a night.

It had been a long day. I worked with Daphne on a plan on how to do the nursery, then tried sketching something for Rage without much success, and when I thought the day was over, Brian came home with his amazing plan.

"You tired?" he whispered, rolling in the small bed and wrapping his arms around me.

"Yes. Don't even think of…anything. Besides being tired, your son's room is right next to us."

"Our son," he said against my lips.

I accepted the kiss, running my hands through his hair. I could never say no to kissing him.

Of course, Brian took it as a good sign to push his hand down my pants. He rubbed me until I knew sleep wasn't what I wanted anymore.

I wrestled him to get on top, but eventually he won, pushing me face down into the pillow and plowing my ass. Not being able to moan as loud as I wanted, reminded me of his visits when I used to live with Debbie and he would drop by unannounced in the middle of the night.

We thought we'd managed to be quiet, but in the morning, we found Gus pushing around his cereal in his bowl. Lindsay was pleading him to eat, or he wouldn't get cake later.

When he spotted us, he rolled his eyes. "What have you done last night? Jumping in bed is forbidden!"

I turned red, catching Brian's eyes. He looked positively horrified. "You hear us?"

"Duh! That bed was squeaking all night. Is the jumping in bed rule applicable only for me?" He turned to his mom. "If not, you have to punish them."

Lindsay looked murderous. "Eat, honey. I'll have a talk with your dads." She marched to us, pushing us into the living room. "Can't you two keep it in your pants for a few nights?"

"I thought we were quiet," Brian said perplexed.

"Well, you weren't. At least, he doesn't know what you've done." She sighed.

"I'm surprised he didn't figure it out, what with you two giving him the talk. Really? He's only ten," Brian hissed.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "We didn't give him the talk. We only explained what he saw when he walked in on us. And we explained that for him it worked a little differently."

"Still, he's ten!" Brian insisted.

"Oh, so you were having your private time last night?"

We all gasped and turned to see Gus behind us. He shuffled closer, looking down.

"Sorry."

"No, we're sorry, Gus." I hugged him tightly. "Now, how about I help you get ready for your birthday party?"

"Sounds great!" He beamed at me. "Would you help too, Dad?" He turned to Brian.

"Let me grab a cup of coffee." He ruffled Gus's hair.

"Make it two," I told him, already leading Gus upstairs.

All in all, his tenth birthday ended up being the best he ever had, or so Gus claimed when we were leaving one day later.

oOo

When we returned to Pittsburgh, I focused solely on painting and furnishing the nursery.

Of course, I couldn't choose a single color for painting the room.

While I spent the better part of October in the nursery, creating intricate patterns on the walls—from animals to the sky and the sun and the moon to wildfare life; Brian spent it at work. He returned most of the nights after 9 pm, irritable and bitchy.

When we went crib shopping, I should have expected all the sleepless nights to have a say on our nerves. We ended up having an Academy Awards scene in the middle of the store, and it all started with an adjustable side for the crib and it ended up with me storming out. I didn't care Brian was yelling after me, or that people were staring. I had enough of his mood swings, which were worse than Daphne's.

My stop was at Mom's, where I was planning to stay until Brian decided to pull his head out of his ass and come after me. It didn't work like that. Once Mom saw I had cooled down enough, she sent me home, reminding me that we shouldn't sleep apart, and if we had to do it, at least not do it on opposite sides of the city.

At home, I had my mind set to make him sleep in the guest bedroom or the sofa, whichever he preferred. But he wasn't sleeping next to me.

After greeting Cupcake and giving him a petting, I went in search of Brian. I knew he was home, because the Jeep was parked in front of the house.

I heard banging from the nursery and went in there to inspect what the fuck he was doing. The sight that greeted me, about melted my heart.

Brian was sitting cross-legged on the floor working on assembling the crib—the very same one I wanted to buy.

The instructions were spread round him, he had a hammer in his hand, a pencil behind his ear, and his trusty bottle of Beam in handy.

When he spotted me in the doorway, he gave me a weak smile. "Don't say anything."

I made the universal gesture of zipping my lips, before plopping next to him. "How's it going?" I peered at the sheets of instructions, then at the semi assembled crib.

"This is ridiculous," Brian muttered, taking a swig from his bottle.

"Let me see." I pulled the sketch closer. "This pole goes diagonally, like this." I tapped the paper. "See? Easy."

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth, regarding me with an amused look. "Sunshine, at least read it correctly." He turned the paper around.

"Shit."

"Yeah. This is shit." He took another gulp of Beam. "Why did our trustworthy dyke friends have to move all the way to Canada? We could have used their handiwork skills."

"I remember Lindsay not being able to assemble Gus's swing set, and that time, they turned the attic in a studio? It was disastrous until their friend helped. Maybe not all dykes are good with their hands."

"Urgh!" Brian shuddered. "You're going to give me nightmares."

"Come on, Brian. We can do this. How hard can it be?"

I saw determination in his eyes as he clenched his hand around the hammer.

Together, we poured over the stupid crib and had it set in only five hours. It was a decent amount of time for a couple of fags who couldn't tell apart a French key from an adjustable wrench.

As we left the nursery, I knew we weren't going to talk about the fight.

We went about our night routine in silence, and Brian acted as if nothing had happened. That irked me more than anything else. I couldn't find my place.

At midnight, I was pacing around the house, the cat following me. On my way out of the kitchen, with a glass of milk, in an attempt to get some sleep, I saw a shadow near the stairs.

"Fuck, Brian!" I clutched at my heart, which was beating out of my chest.

"I didn't mean to startle you. Please, by all means, keep working on the moat you're trying to create. Though, they usually go outside the house."

"I can't sleep," I mumbled.

He came closer, opening his arms. It was all I needed. I rushed into his warm embrace, snuggling into him.

"I'm sorry, Justin. I acted like an asshole. I guess I'm really tired and too used to shouting when something doesn't go my way."

I patted his pectoral, resting my hand there. "Well, you need to remember I'm not one of your employees. I'm your partner—your husband."

"I know," he said with remorse clear in his voice. "I hoped you'd forgive me when you saw I bought the crib you wanted."

"Brian, problems are solved by talking." I gently tugged him to sit on the stairs. "Tell me about your problems at work."

"I don't want to burden you."

"Hey, I always tell you about my day, no matter how shitty or boring it was."

Brian leaned his back against the wall, stretching his legs, and pulled me between them. "All my Art Department is stupid. All of them. No exception. I usually allow them to change my idea if it doesn't work out, but to turn it into something horrible and tasteless it takes skill."

"Do you need any help? I could come by the office and supervise them," I offered, rubbing his leg, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Don't you have enough on your plate?"

"I'll always make time for you." I tilted my head to grin at him.

oOo

The Monday morning following our midnight conversation, I accompanied Brian to Kinnetik.

He had three campaigns running at the same time. His teams were not organized at all, working on all of them.

I immediately made order, allotting the best for each campaign on a team, then setting them to work.

One of the campaigns was for turkeys since Thanksgiving was fast approaching. I managed to salvage the ad and convinced the team to use Brian's slogan: You're not going to have a cold turkey this Thanksgiving. Buy our roast turkey.

The second one was for a local store selling sex toys. Typical small business Brian loved to help. For this one I had to change the storyboards altogether. People would have died of shock upon seeing fake dicks, whips, harnesses and who the fuck knows what else displayed all over the city.

I was pretty proud of the slogan I came with: Need to spice up your sex life? We can help you live your darkest, wildest fantasy.

The last campaign was for the car store—their last trimester ad. I used Derek's idea and the car he had chosen, but changed the words he used, making them into: The best car to cross the finish line of 2010 and score in 2011.

After spending my whole day with the Art Department and tutoring them in how to work efficiently on future assignments, I only made it to Brian's office around six pm.

He was on the phone when I arrived, but I made myself comfortable on the sofa. He came closer, kissing me.

"Is seven okay for dinner with Mikey and the professor?"

"Seven thirty."

"You heard that, Mikey? Good. See you then." He hung up, then descended for another kiss.

oOo

When we arrived home, my plan to make dinner vanished.

While undressing, Brian called our favorite Thai place and promised an extra tip if they didn't get lost. Then he pulled me to the couch, attacking me—hands and lips everywhere.

I fell on the sofa, but Brian didn't even give me much time to arrange my limbs. He lifted my legs, placing one on each of his shoulder, raising my ass off the couch and diving in.

"Holy shit!" My fingers grabbed his hair tightly as I threw my head back.

Brian's mouth claimed mine, as his hips thrust faster and faster. One of my arms bent over the back of the sofa for some leverage since I was mostly in the air. Only my shoulders were touching the back of the couch.

"Brian!" I cried out when he pushed harder. After all these years, he still managed to make me lose my mind.

He rasped out my name too, sweat beading at his temple and on his chest, and I was unable to touch him properly without losing my balance.

He kept his punishing rhythm until I couldn't take it anymore. I threw my head back, shouting his name over and over again as I came harder than I had in a long while. Brian shuddered above me, somehow managing not to shoot his load. He simply kept going, unperturbed. I always marveled at his stamina and self-control.

"Can you come again?" Lust danced in his dilated hazel eyes.

"Uh…no?"

"Yes, you can." Brian pressed kisses to my neck. His hands squeezed the back of my thighs, changing the angle.

"FUCK!" My voice grew hoarse.

"That's it. Don't fight it," he talked me through the slight pain. He placed one of my hands on my dick. "Keep rubbing."

I wanted to protest. It was becoming too much—everything. The sensations were getting the best of me. Brian had given me multiple orgasms before, but it always took a while to cross the boundary between pleasure and pain.

He kept bumping into my prostate, telling me how hot I looked arched over the sofa, touching myself, and begging for release.

The tightness in my stomach returned suddenly, along with the tugging in my balls, and the tingling all over my body; it was literally impossible to fight the feeling. When my ass muscles clenched onto his dick, his mouth dropped and his rhythm faltered.

I wasn't sure if I screamed, but I knew I had blacked out. For a second. When I opened my eyes, Brian was hovering over me, his lips twisted in a self-satisfied smirk.

"Fuck. Am I that good?" He joked, his eyes glinting.

I cupped his cheek, grinning. "You're fan-fucking-tastic!"

Smiling, he leaned closer to kiss me. "This goes on our Top Ten fucks."

"How about Ten 100?"

"Okay, Top 100," he allowed, chuckling. "Did you take notes? Because I want that too."

"You want me to make you…faint?" I laughed, nuzzling his ear.

"Definitely." He nodded eagerly.

"It can be done a lot easier. I can push you into a wall or knock you out with that vase?" I teased, running my fingers through his hair.

He gasped. "In pleasure, you twat! I never had that…felt like you did." He kissed up and down my neck. "Wait. Maybe our first time in Ibiza."

"Okay, you convinced me. Tell me a time and place and it's a date." I winked, kissing his nose.

"Oh, are you bringing back our rendezvous?"

"What rendezvous?" I played coy.

"You know…the café, the hotel….Babylon… God! That one was so hot!"

I gasped in mock-shock. "Have you been cheating on me?"

Thankfully, he caught on my bullshit before his temper could get the better of him. "Only with your alter ego. JT is quite adventurous."

I burst out laughing, just as the doorbell rang.

"Must be the delivery guy." Grinning, Brian grabbed a cushion and pressed it to his groin. On the way to the door, he picked his wallet from the pants.

I knew I had to go get cleaned up – the only down side of barebacking, unless Brian decided to rim me afterwards, which dragged the moment, turning into a night filled with lots and lots of sex. But it wasn't the case. We had guests arriving soon.

Brian reappeared in the doorway, laughing. "His face! He'd either sign for all deliveries to bring our food from now on, or say to his boss about the crazy naked man who lived at this address."

"What did you do to scare him off?" I rolled my eyes. He could be so immature, but that was one of the things I loved about him.

"I paid him, and dropped the cushion when I took the bags from him."

"You're impossible. I'm going to wash up. Can you not flash anyone while I'm in the shower?"

I was passing him when the doorbell rang.

"Oh, he's back!" Brian cheered, dropping the bags and going to answer the door.

At least, he retrieved the cushion. I slipped in my underwear, just to be safe.

"Ready for more?" Brian threw the door open, leaning against the jamb. "Oh, shit. You're early."

I made a hasty retreat up the stairs, as he let Michael and Ben in, trying to explain his behavior. I could hear Michael scolding him, and couldn't help but snicker.

When I was done with my shower, I found Brian on the bed, dressed in comfy clothes and barefoot—the way I liked him.

"Traitor. You deserted me. I had to get an earful from Mikey about my atrocious lifestyle, before Zen Ben could calm his wayward wife."

I stopped between his legs, placing my hands on either side of his neck. "Sorry, honey. I had your atrocious lifestyle running down my leg."

He snorted, pulling me closer, pressing his face to my chest. "Mhmmm. Smell good."

"Thanks?" I laughed. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be a good host to our friends?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go entertain our friends like the couple of Stepford husbands we'd become."

"We're no such thing!" I demanded. "I bet Michael and Ben don't do what we just did on the couch."

"Are you sure? I noticed cum stains on their sofa."

I shuddered. "Stop talking."

Brian took my hand, leading me downstairs, all the while smiling. I loved seeing him so happy.

Brian's POV

"I think we lost them for tonight," Ben said, keeping his eyes on our husbands.

"It seems so," I agreed. My own eyes never straying from Justin.

They were sprawled on the carpet in front of the fireplace, surrounded by papers. The new issue of Rage was in the making. They were like two little kids, focused on what they were doing and when one of them had a new idea, the other would nod excitedly, then set to work.

"Have you advanced on working on the nursery?" Ben glanced my way.

I cringed. Discussing the process of decorating that room wasn't my favorite thing. "A little. We got the crib."

"That's good progress. We still have the changing table from when JR was little."

"I think we'd like it. Buying stuff together isn't our thing."

"Welcome to the married world where silly fights come out of nowhere." Ben smiled, taking a sip from his wine.

"It wasn't so silly when it happened. I've never heard Justin scream so loudly. I guess he knows better. The crib is kick-ass."

"I can't say I'm not surprised."

Scowling, I downed my glass of wine, ready for the strong shit. "Surprised, how? That Justin knows better? That I want to be a father?"

"Both. I guess it was the next step, but it is a surprise coming from you."

"I've never seen myself growing old next to someone. But having Justin back? It gave me something to ponder on. I'm not ready to lose him again, just because I used to be scared of commitment. Facing all these things with him by my side – they're not so scary anymore."

"That's really mature, Brian."

I smirked. "It took me longer than the average guy, but I can say I'm finally a grown-up." I stood, stretching. "Whiskey? It's going to be a long night." I gestured to the brainstorming session taking place in front of us.

"No, I'm good." He tapped his barely touched glass.

On my way to the door, I stopped, deciding to ask Rage's sidekicks if they wanted a drink too. "Hey, Chip and Dale, want a drink?"

Justin's head shot up, eyes narrowing at me. Michael threw a clump of paper at my head.

The funny part was Cupcake rushing to grab the flying ball of paper, yapping happily. I pried it from his mouth, fixated my target, and threw. With surprising accuracy, the paper landed under Justin's nose, making him drop the pencil.

"You're such a shit!" He threw the paper after me, but I managed to duck out of the room in time, before it could hit me again.

After retrieving my bottle of Beam from the study, I returned to the living room. Mikey had moved to the sofa, snuggled against Ben, showing him the sketches. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell them what we'd done in the spot they were sitting.

Amused by that idea, I threw myself on the carpet beside Justin. He ignored me, still upset about earlier.

I stared at him, lounged there on his stomach, his hand working overtime, brows frowned in concentration as he shaded the drawing in front of him. Realizing he wasn't going to acknowledge me any time soon, I shifted until my head was resting on his ass.

He grumbled, his muscles tensing, but didn't say anything.

Tipping the bottle, I took a swig, marveling at the way we were spending our evening. It seemed crazy to be happy only by staying at home with my husband and our friends.

I couldn't say I missed Babylon, random fucks, and a long night. I was growing too old to be a club boy and keep tricking with or without Justin. Truth be told, it hadn't been my thing since he left. I was leaving that part of my life behind, already.

It took me months, if not years to give up all my old ways, but they disappeared one by one.

I was much happier now, in my monogamous marriage, than I'd ever been after having the hottest ass in Babylon. There had been a time when getting the hottest guy was customary, now I had him all to myself, all the time. He was my husband.

My eyes travelled to Justin's head, still bent over the paper in front of him. Taking another gulp of whiskey, I propped my elbow next to his head, peering over his shoulder at his work.

"You need serious groveling for ruining my drawing," he muttered, glancing at me.

"How about a blow job?" I pressed my lips to the back of his neck.

"Michael and Ben are right there," he hissed under his breath, but shivered in pleasure.

"They can watch." I sucked on his earlobe.

Justin threw me an incredulous look, not very believable when his eyes were glazed over with lust. "Can you be serious for a second?"

"Who said I was joking?" I sucked at a spot on his neck. "I'm very serious about blow jobs. You, of all people, should know that by now, Justin."

"Let me finish this." He returned his attention to shading Rage.

I was about to ask why was JT holding Rage up, when I noticed his hand cramping up until he dropped the pencil, cursing loudly.

Trying not to let it show how it hurt me when he was in pain, I gently took his hand in both mine, rubbing my thumb to the inside of his palm.

Justin shot me a grateful, tight smile.

That's when Michael appeared next to us. "I know what I want in the next scene. Zephyr saves Rage from Wood Killer and takes him back to his lair."

I snorted, remembering who their inspiration for Wood Killer was—my mother.

"Are you crazy? How is Zephyr going to help?" Justin shook his head, clearly annoyed. "Look. I'm already working on JT and Zephyr finding Rage and Wood Killer. You, uh, I mean Zephyr, takes care of Wood Killer, while JT saves Rage."

"Oh, that's a great idea! The return of Rage!" Mikey beamed, staring out into thin air.

I rolled my eyes, as I kept rubbing Justin's hand. "It will all have to wait for another brainstorming session, though."

"I'll forget my ideas!" Mikey whined.

"Write them down," I said, glaring.

"Are you getting jealous again for not being included?"

"Justin is not a fucking machine! He needs a break. His hand needs a break," I snapped.

Despite my very serious speech, everyone started laughing.

"That sounded so dirty, and I know, for once, you didn't even mean it like that." Justin giggled, bringing our clasped hands to his mouth and kissing the top of mine.

I looked up to the ceiling in mock despair. "I created a monster!"

"Call me Frankenstein." He nudged me with his shoulder, still chuckling.

"That would be me, then. People never get it right. Doctor Frankenstein creates the monster! Everyone thinks Frankenstein is the monster, which is stupid. He's called doctor for a reason."

They all shared knowing looks, as if saying I was insane.

"We'll leave you to learn all about the making of the monster. And seriously, I'm sorry. You should have said your hand wasn't okay," Mikey said, already pulling Ben to the door.

"I was okay. Brian's paranoid." Justin stood, helping me up. I scowled, knowing full well he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to worry our friends.

oOo

The middle of November found us swamped in baby stuff.

We were on the way home after dinner at Daphne's parents' house. They had immediately taken to me, especially after the shit they had pulled in the beginning about Justin, who they knew and liked, fathering their daughter's baby. It was a shock for everyone to see how they were so impressed by me.

Parents and I didn't mix.

Debbie and Jennifer were two singular exceptions.

Daphne joked that it ran in her family to like me. The harmless flirting between Daphne and me got a few raised eyebrows from her parents, but they soon realized that was the way we interacted.

I could tell her dad wasn't thrilled with the whole thing, but he accepted it because it made his little girl happy. And there was no turning back. Daphne was already eight months pregnant.

I couldn't have too big expectations from her father, since he was best buddies with Justin's father, which he made it a point to state every few sentences. I had to literally keep Justin down so he wouldn't jump at Mr. Chanders' throat.

"That was interesting," I commented, keeping my eyes on the road ahead.

"Yeah. They're nice. I was always welcome there. Daph and I had more sleepovers than the average BFFs."

"Aww…" Justin grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging playfully, making me rethink my jibe. "So when were you going to tell me about the Alannah thing?" I seriously tried not to cringe.

"Are you upset I didn't share it with you? It came to me yesterday. We barely saw each other in the past twenty hours."

"Oh, so now it's my fault?"

"Must we fight, Brian?" He groaned, unbuckling his seatbelt when I pulled in the garage at home.

"No, of course not. Go ahead and make decisions all by yourself."

"Okay."

We got out of the car, slamming the doors shut.

Justin stomped inside, kicking his boots off on the way upstairs.

"I take it you don't like the name," he said calmly.

"I sure as fuck don't! I am stuck with a horrible middle name, because my parents hated me."

"Alan is a nice name," he protested.

"Alan makes me think of a fat, balding, fifty year old guy who sits in an armchair all day and drinks beer while watching sports."

"Jesus Christ! Okay. Alan stinks."

"And I'll have you murdered if you disclose the origin of the A. in my name to anyone. A select three people know what it means, besides my dear family. Only Debbie, Mikey, and you know it, okay?"

He nodded mechanically, staring at me in shock.

Having that cleared, I went back to bitching about the name he chose for our baby. "My point is, we're not naming our daughter Alannah. If it's a boy, he won't be Brian Junior or Justin Junior, either. It's weird. Imagine the horrid nicknames: BJ or JJ. No child of mine would have such names."

"Good God!" He threw his arms in the air. "Apparently, I'm not the only one thinking baby names. Were you ever going to share your own ideas?"

"When the right time came…" I shrugged.

"You mean when Daph gave birth?" He stomped the rest of the way up the stairs and into our room.

I was tempted to let him cool down and then try talking again, but him not asking me first what I thought of the name he chose, and then telling Daphne's parents WE decided on Alannah. No.

I went after him, beyond angry.

I found Justin folding the laundry we'd left on the bed before going to dinner. It felt like ages ago, not mere hours.

He threw me a venomous look, shaking a shirt vigorously before folding it neatly and placing it in the basket.

I cleared my throat, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door. "I think Ralph is a nice name for a boy."

"After Ralph Lauren?" He snorted.

"If it's a girl…I like Tiffany," I added.

Justin threw the pillow case in his hands to the floor in rage. His eyes were so dark, and fuck if I didn't want to push him on the bed and have my way with him, but I reminded myself we were having a fight.

"You're such a label queen! Does everything have to be a fucking label with you? Even our baby?"

I tried to remember the last time I'd seen him so angry. It didn't even come close to our crib shopping trip. That was a walk in the park compared to the way Justin was acting at the moment.

"Okay, not Ralph," I amended, realizing he caught on my train of thoughts.

"How about Giorgio? Or Domenico? Or Stefano? Or Mario? Or Guccio?"

"Oh, someone has done his homework on fashion designers. I'm impressed you know so many by their first name, Sunshine."

"As for a girl, why limit yourself to Tiffany? Why not Donatella? Or Viviane?"

"Cut it out!" I didn't like the way he was steering this conversation. It had all started because of the silly name he chose for our baby if it was a girl.

"Why, Brian? Deny it. You want our baby named after a label of clothes or jewelry you like!"

"It was a fucking suggestion," I spat.

"Well, shove that suggestion up your ass! It's MY baby. I'll name him or her whatever the fuck I want!"

I approached him, retrieving the pillow case on my way. "That's rich coming from you, Sunshine! You named my kid! You don't see me bitching about what name you chose, considering I didn't even fucking know you back then!"

He glared, snatching the pillow case form my hands. "The name was already picked. I only saved Gus from the embarrassment of being named Abraham."

"So, this gives me the right to refuse to name OUR daughter Alannah!"

"It's a fucking beautiful name. It has its origins from the Irish 'a leanbh', meaning 'darling' or 'love,' used as a pet name."

"The fuck it is. I'm sticking with Tiffany."

He huffed. "What, don't you like Audrey, too?"

"It might not be a girl." I tried to placate him, tired of fighting with him.

Still shaking in anger, he struggled with the bed sheet. I caught one end of it, helping him fold it. I had to find a way to put a stop to this fight, and I had no idea how.

"If it's a boy, we're giving him a decent name," Justin mumbled.

"Like what?"

"Trevor," he whispered.

"I'm sorry?" My ears were deceiving me. "Have you lost your mind? Trevor?"

"I think it's nice," he said defensively.

I shuddered. The name Trevor reminded me of Gus's lizard pet.

"No." I put the folded sheet away, helping him with the socks. "It sucks."

Five pairs of socks later, Justin threw a pair of boxers into my face. It was a sign we were going to be okay.

"I'll tell Gus you said the name he picked sucked."

I gasped. "You talked to Gus about baby names?"

"You were in the bathroom the last time he called. I talked to him."

"You two are a match made in heaven, bonded by fate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Justin placed the basket on the floor.

"Well, you named my son after your favorite teddy bear." He turned red, slapping me with the arm of a shirt. "He wants to name his brother after his first pet—a lizard."

"Seriously? Eww!"

I nodded, confirming I wasn't joking.

"Okay, okay. Can we postpone this talk?"

"Fine by me."

Justin sighed, wrapping his arms around me. "Sorry. It seems all we do lately is fight. Is this normal behavior for a married couple?"

"You're asking me based on my previous ten failed marriages?" I smoothed the hair out of his eyes, grinning.

He laughed nervously. "We fight a lot, that's all. And I hate it."

"It's because we're passionate about stuff the other doesn't give a shit about. And we're both stubborn as hell. But you know what I love?" I rubbed his cheek with my thumb.

"Me?" Justin pecked my mouth.

Laughing, I pushed him back, making him fall on the bed. "Make-up sex." My suggestion earned me his Sunshine smile.

Justin's POV

To: Brian Kinney

From: Justin Taylor

Subject: Important

Hey, hubby!

Where's your phone? Answer it!

The thing is…you're going to freak out big time. I know I did. I'm still shaking.

Call when you see this.

It's about Gus.

Yours truly,

Justin

PS: Don't panic. He's fine. I love you.

I hit send, raising my eyes to Gus, who was watching me sullenly from the armchair across the room. I sighed loudly, rubbing my temple.

I didn't sign up for this shit when I accepted happily to be his dad, too.

When the door bell had rung earlier, Gus was the last person I expected to see on our doorstep. His arrival had pulled me out of sleep, after a long night working under Brian. I only pulled my boxers on, before rushing to answer the door.

I was greeted by a smiling Gus. "I hope it's not a bad time," he'd told me, holding his backpack by the strap, his wide eyes on mine.

It didn't take me long to realize he was alone. Gus explained nonchalantly that his moms had cancelled their planned trip to the States for Thanksgiving. He got upset and stole Lindsay's credit card, bought a ticket, and got on the plane by easily making it look like he was with the nice, old lady who offered him candy.

By that time in the plot, I was ready to faint. He reassured me he didn't take anything from the old lady, but he did eat all the nuts the flight attendant gave him.

"Your father is going to be so upset," I repeated for the umpteenth time in the past half an hour.

I'd been telling him the same thing ever since I snapped out of my funk and pulled him inside the house. In between chiding him for his foolishness to leave home and come all the way to Pittsburgh alone, I kept trying to reach Lindsay and Brian. Lindsay's phone was off, and Brian didn't pick up, hence the e-mail.

Their child was missing and they weren't around their phones, or had them off. Of course, they didn't know he was missing, or maybe Lindsay did.

I narrowed my eyes at Gus, who shrunk further in the armchair.

He was saved by Brian's response to my e-mail.

To: Justin Taylor

From: Brian Kinney

Subject: in a meeting

Is Gus OK?

Brian Kinney

CEO Kinnetik

PS: DON'T call me that!

To: Brian Kinney

From: Justin Taylor

Subject: RE: in a meeting

Yup, hubby.

Call me when you're out of the meeting.

"Is that Dad?"

"Yes. I haven't told him much. He'd be worried sick!"

Gus pouted, fiddling fingers in his lap. "I just missed you guys."

"Do you have any idea how worried everyone in Toronto must be?"

"They don't know I left."

I scratched my jaw, at a loss how to make him understand the gravity of what he had done. "I figured. I wonder what's wrong with Linz's phone."

He gave me a guilty smile. "I stole that too. But it died on the plane. I got bored and played on it."

"I don't have Mel's new number. I don't suppose you know it?" I raised a brow.

He shook his head, looking away.

"Jesus Christ, Gus! I can't believe you did something like this!"

"I'm sorry," he said in a small voice.

After a few minutes of silence, where I tried not to picture Lindsay's or Melanie's worried faces when they discovered their son was missing, Gus came to sit next to me on the sofa.

"You cut your hair." He touched the side of my head with a finger.

I gave him my best WTF look. This was not a time to discuss my shorter hair. But typical Brian, he tried to change the subject.

"It's nice," he insisted, brushing his fingers through my hair. "Did your mom make you cut it? My mom always chides me about not wanting to get a haircut."

"I wanted to shorten it," I said curtly. "Look, Gus, if you're a big boy – enough to fly on your own, you're going to tell your parents about your deed without being too worried."

"Will you be here, Jus?"

When I saw tears springing into his eyes, I forgot all about guilt tripping him. I couldn't stand the sight of him upset.

So I pulled him into my arms, hugging him tightly. "I'll be right here, by your side," I promised, kissing the top of his head. "How about we find a charger and try calling your mom?"

Before we could start tracking a charger, my phone rang loudly. I pushed it to Gus, showing him the caller ID. He shook his head wildly, watching me with terrified, hazel eyes.

Sighing, I answered, "Hey, Brian."

"Is Gus okay? I tried Linz, but her phone is off."

"Yeah, about that… Can you come home?"

"Justin, what's going on? Tell me."

Keeping my eyes on Gus, I replied as cheerfully as I could, "We have a visitor."

There was a commotion on his side of the line, where he commanded Cynthia to reschedule everything, then he was back talking to me. "They actually came for Thanksgiving!"

He was so excited, I didn't have the heart to correct him. Besides, I wanted him to get home in one piece.

"See you soon. Drive carefully. It snowed again," I advised him.

"Yes, mother."

After hanging up with Brian, I pulled Gus back into my arms. "We're going to do three things now."

He nodded, sniffing into my chest.

"First, you need to stop crying." I wiped his tears with my thumbs. "Second, we'll find a charger for your mom's phone."

"And third?" he mumbled, staring into my eyes.

"We need a good speech for when your daddy gets home. We don't want to scare him, okay?"

"Do you think Dad will hate me?" His broken voice made my heart break.

"Gussy, he can't hate you. Brian loves you more than anyone else." I stroked his head, shushing him.

"Promise?"

"I promise." I kissed his forehead. "Come on, we have plans." I pulled him off the couch.

Sadly, no charger in the house worked for Lindsay's phone. I hoped Brian had Mel's new number. I berated myself for not saving it in my own phone when they called to let us know she had to change her number after she had her phone stolen.

While we discussed how we were going to approach Gus's visit, I heated some leftovers and sat him down at the kitchen table. Once I convinced him no one would hate him, he started picking through his food.

When Brian arrived, the front door slamming shut after him, Gus dropped the fork on his plate, paling.

Brian appeared in the kitchen doorway, with a big smile on his face. "Gus! Come here, Sonny Boy." He opened his arms.

Instead of rushing over there, Gus scooted closer to me, whimpering.

I rubbed his arm soothingly.

"Oh, you're too cool for your old man?" Brian joked, approaching us, not noticing how distressed his son was. "Where's Linz?" He met my eyes.

I averted mine, still silently encouraging Gus to talk. I hoped he still remembered our little conversation about how I helped him come visit when he called saying he missed us. It was our little secret, though it was faulty considering he did steal his mom's phone and credit card. It was worth a shot, though.

"What's going on?" Brian eyed us suspiciously, leaning against the table.

"I screwed up, Daddy!" Gus wailed.

I wanted to bang my head against the table.

Fuck! Trust him to ruin our little speech with his panic.

Brian knelt at his son's feet. "Tell me. I'll help you fix it."

"You'll hate me!" Gus sobbed loudly.

The look of horror on Brian's face was quickly replaced by such raw pain, I had to look away or I'd join Gus in his sobbing fest.

"I need your phone. To call Mel. Gus has Lindsay's phone, but its battery died," I explained.

Brian handed me his phone automatically, not taking his eyes off Gus.

"Don't go, Jus! You promised to stay with me!" Gus grabbed my arm with both his hands.

"I'm right here," I said softly.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" Brian finally tore his eyes off Gus, to fixate me with an inquisitive look.

"Moms cancelled our trip here. I was upset at them. Very upset. I stole Mom's card and phone and left."

"And I woke up with him on our doorstep at ten this morning."

Brian stood abruptly. "You left?" He thundered.

Gus shrunk into my side. I rubbed his back.

"What do you mean, you left? Alone? Fucking Christ, Gus!" Brian started pacing, muttering under his breath, "We need to call and let them know you're alive. How fucking irresponsible! So stupid!"

"Moms won't know I'm missing until later. I told them I was having a sleepover at Carter's."

I wished I could have made him keep that from an angry Brian. It was news even to me, but I could see a vein pulsing against Brian's temple.

From how happy he'd been minutes ago when he saw Gus, his behavior had changed one-eighty. He was Rage in all his glory.

Making a sharp turn, Brian came to me. "Call Melanie. Tell her everything he's done. Also, tell her I'll take the wayward son back with the first plane to Toronto, and I'll assist them in giving him the right punishment for running away."

I didn't have a choice but to take the phone and leave the room. "I'll be right back," I whispered in Gus's ear.

"No. Jus, don't go!"

"Go, Justin. I need to speak to my son alone." Brian's cold voice was something I knew. It usually ended up with him yelling hurtful things he didn't mean to me. Now, it would be Gus at the receiving end, and I couldn't have that.

I went to him cupping his cheek. "Don't do or say anything you'll regret later," I pleaded, pecking his lips.

His eyes flashed, glowing in his anger.

The second I was in the hallway, Brian slammed the kitchen door shut, making me jump. Shit.

"You better have a good explanation, besides that bullshit about missing us, or being upset at your moms! Do you realize what you've done, what could have happened to you! Fuck, Gus! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

Something broke on the other side of the door, but I willed my legs to take me down the hall.

Mel answered on the first ring. "Funny you decided to call now, Brian!"

"Huh? Oh, it's me—Justin." I realized it was Brian's name she saw on her phone.

"Oh, hey, Justin. Honey, look we have a bit of a situation. How about we call you later?" Mel suggested.

"He's here," I choked out, as more shouts came from the kitchen.

"What?"

"Gus is here. He's with Brian at the moment."

"Is he alright?" Linz's voice came over. "Please, tell me he's safe."

"Don't worry, Linz. Gus is fine. Brian said he'd bring him back as soon as possible. I'm sorry he scared you like that."

"It's not your fault, honey," Mel said softly.

"How did he get there? Oh, my God. He's fine. I thought I'd die when Carter's mom told us Gus was never there," Linz added, sniffing loudly.

"He stole your credit card and phone. He's a smart kid."

"Takes after his father," Mel muttered.

"Can you put him on the phone? I need to hear his voice," Lindsay begged.

I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to disturb them, but Linz sounded so heartbroken. "Hold on."

I went back to the kitchen, which was suspiciously quiet. Upon opening the door, I found Gus at the table, sobbing with his arms around himself.

There was no trace of Brian, but the back door opened wide gave me an idea of his whereabouts.

"Gussy," I whispered, stroking his head. He turned, wrapping his arms around my waist, and continued crying into my stomach. "Your mom wants to talk to you. Here. She's not upset. She's relieved you're safe." I offered him the phone.

"Dad hates me. Like a lot."

"No, he doesn't." I put the phone in his hand. "Talk to your mom."

"Dad said there was a reason he never wanted children. He doesn't want me." Tears cascaded down his cheek, making me want to strangle Brian.

I had specifically told him to be careful with his empty threats.

The worst part of Gus's confession was Linz and Mel being able to hear it.

"I'll check on him," I said, leaving him to his phone call.

It took me a few minutes to find Brian. He was at the gazebo, propped on the banister with his fingers squeezing it tightly, eyes staring blankly at the snow covered ground.

"Brian." I touched his shoulder gently. He shrugged me off. "Brian, I know you're upset and scared."

"You don't know anything! Leave me the fuck alone!"

"No."

Throwing me a glare, he marched away toward the tennis court.

After contemplating whether Gus would be okay on his own for a few minutes, I decided to follow Brian. I had to pull him away from whatever dark place he had gone.

"You don't give up, do you?" he grumbled, falling on a bench.

"No. I don't. I thought you knew that by now."

"I'm not going to talk." He lay on the bench, staring at the ceiling.

I sat next to him, taking his hand. "Brian, Gus missed you. I bet you'd have done the same if you were in his place."

He scowled, not tearing his eyes off the ceiling. "I never had an overwhelming feeling of being around my dad."

"I did," I admitted, stroking his fingers. "He was usually gone with business, and when he was home, I made the most of that time." I played with his wedding band, twisting it round and round, trying not to think too much of these happy times.

"But…he pushed you away when he was home?" He cut his eyes to me.

"No, Brian. Despite the way he's treating me now, we were once close. Why the fuck do you think it hurt so much when he gave me that ultimatum? When I had no choice but to live with you or Debbie." I bit my lip in an attempt to keep me from crying.

"Well, I'm not that close with Gus," he retaliated.

"Yes, you are. You are an amazing father. Don't judge yourself too harshly, and please don't compare yourself to your father!"

He cringed, snatching his hand away. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then fucking tell me!" I cried out, exasperated.

"I can't. And I am like Jack." He sniffed, covering his face. "I screamed at my son. What he did is wrong, but I should have explained why it's not okay to run away like that."

"See? You are a good father," I said, hoping to keep him from comparing himself to Jack.

Brian sat up, staring into my eyes, tears pooling into his. He slowly lifted his right hand, then fisted it, letting a few tears fall. "I raised my hand at him," he said in a gruff voice.

Holy shit. I stared at him in shock, unsure what to say.

"I didn't hit him, but in that moment I saw Jack in front of my eyes. It reminded me of when they sent me to buy bread and I spent the change on candy. He didn't explain why he was suddenly using me as his personal punching bag."

I choked through the knot in my throat, engulfing him in a tight hug. "Brian, you're not your father. You love Gus. You'd never hurt him," I said into his ear, hoping it helped him.

"I was so angry."

"But you've cooled off now and you realize you need to talk calmly to him."

He sniffed, wiping a hand under his nose and pulling away from me. "Does he hate me?"

I bit my lip, shaking my head. "It's kind of the other way round. He thinks you no longer want to be his dad." I groaned, tugging gently at a lock of his hair. "I told you not to say anything you might regret! You told him you wished he wasn't born!"

"Not in so many words. See, Justin? I'm terrible at this. He hates me."

"Hate is a strong word. Anyway, don't worry. That's why you have me." I kissed him softly, stroking his cheek. "Let's go kiss and make up."

Begrudgingly he let me drag him back home by the hand.

Brian's POV

Justin had managed once again to make me hate myself less and understand I made a mistake. I was only human and sometimes a shitty parent. Parents learned all through their life.

When we moved back inside, we found Gus at the kitchen table, staring at the phone in his hands. My phone. I knew what he was seeing—his face. I had a picture of him as my display image.

When he heard us coming in, he turned, rushing over.

If Justin wasn't squeezing my hand, I'd have probably crumbled down.

Instead of running into my arms, Gus came crashing into Justin. He hugged him tightly around the waist, eyeing me apprehensively through his lashes.

"I'm sorry I screamed at you, Sonny Boy." It was such a feeble excuse, and I hated having to say it. I shouldn't have screamed to begin with.

Gus nodded, still not letting go of Justin.

Justin gave me a reassuring smile. He'd told me it might not be easy to regain Gus's trust, but he had the perfect idea.

"Do you want ice cream, Gussy?" He stroked a hand through my son's hair, smiling down at him.

It surprised me that Gus allowed Justin to call him that ridiculous, childish nickname. He'd flat out refused to acknowledge us when we called him Gussy ever since he was six. Trust Justin to get Gus to accept that nickname even at ten years old. And the silly nickname went both ways. Only Gus was allowed to call Justin 'Jus' and survive.

I marveled at how well they got along, being bounded by fate, dare I say at the risk of sounding like a dyke.

Gus's wide eyes moved from Justin to me. "Am I allowed?"

I was about to ask what for, then I remembered the ice cream promise. "Of course."

Justin pulled Gus at arm's length. "Why don't you go upstairs with your dad and choose a movie? I'll bring the ice cream."

He pouted. "Can't we choose the movie together? Dad can bring the ice cream, right?"

I tried not to let it show how it hurt to be dismissed like that.

Justin squeezed my hand harder, as if knowing what I was feeling. Of course he knew.

"He doesn't know the special touching to make it yummy." Justin winked.

Even Gus could read through his bullshit. "Okay," he mumbled in defeat. "But don't take too long."

"Go right up, Gus. I'm right behind you," I said, as he quickly disappeared into the hallway.

"It will be okay. You'll see." Justin cupped my cheeks, smiling. "Go, choose something nice to watch, and I'll bring the ice cream. Do you want mint sprinkles on yours?"

"And chocolate syrup." I pecked his mouth, rubbing my thumb on the side of his neck. "I love you."

He gave me his sunniest smile. "I love you more." Kissing me deeply, he walked me backwards out of the kitchen. "Now go, before I decide to keep you here and have my dirty way with you." His palm landed swiftly on my ass, while he laughed.

"Silly twat." I tugged him closer, making him stumble, before I crashed my lips to his. I couldn't get enough of him, but he was right. We had Gus upstairs. It wasn't the time to get lost in each other.

Gus was in the entertainment room, but instead of looking through DVD cases, he was curled up on the sofa, staring blankly at the shut TV.

I sat next to him carefully. He glanced at me, and before he moved to shift away, I proved I was quicker. I pulled him on my lap, hugging him tightly to my chest, trying to ignore the way he tensed up.

"I'm so sorry, Gus. You know I didn't mean what I said. I love you so much." I squeezed him closer.

He sighed heavily, burrowing into me, as his small frame shook with his sobs.

I rubbed his back soothingly, thinking what a shitty dad I was. I had no idea how to be mad at a child, how to explain it wasn't okay what he'd done without screaming and scaring him in the process. I didn't know how to use discipline.

"Can I stay here for a few days? Please, Dad. Don't take me back."

"Did something happen back home? Did you have a fight with your moms? Your sister?"

"No. I just missed you." He emphasized his statement with wrapping arms around my neck. "I don't see you enough. Please." He looked at me pleadingly.

"Is there another reason why you want to stay here, besides missing us?" I knew him, because he was a mini version of me.

"Well…" There we go. "You and Jus always allow me to do or say or even eat all kinds of stuff I'm not allowed home. Like, eating ice cream in winter, or going out with my jacket unzipped, or even saying 'crap' without my head being bitten off. You won't snap at me if I don't say 'please' or 'thank you'. You let me eat while watching TV…"

"Okay, I get it. We're a bad influence." I chuckled, kissing his head.

"No! You're the best, Dad!" He hugged me tightly, kissing my cheek soundly. "I love you. And I'm sorry for scaring all of you."

"Just promise it won't happen again. You don't want to give your old man a heart attack, do you?"

"I promise." He beamed, keeping his arms around my neck.

"Good. I'll call Linz later and let her know you're staying until the weekend. Consider yourself kidnapped for five whole days." I planted a wet kiss on his forehead.

Justin appeared in the doorway with a tray and three bowls of ice cream on it. "Who's ready for dessert?"

Gus smirked, before returning my kiss on my right temple. I couldn't be happier knowing we were all right. I'd been scared out of my mind thinking I lost him.

"We're ready!" he declared loudly.

Justin sat next to me, handing out our bowls. Our fingers brushed when I took my bowl, and I couldn't help but match his silly smile. Trust Justin to bring these lesbianic feelings out of me.

"Yum!" Gus dived into his ice cream without much stalling, moaning like he was eating gourmet.

I pinched his side. "How do you say?" I teased.

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Dad."

Justin eyed us curiously, his lips tugged up in a smile. "Aren't we watching anything?"

"I haven't decided yet," Gus explained, between spoonfuls of ice cream.

"Easy there. If we send you back with a sore throat, your moms will have my balls. Or ball," I added under my breath.

Justin threw me a scandalized look, knocking his knee into mine. "We have the new Transformers movie. You want to watch that?"

"Haven't seen the first one, either." Gus shrugged, more concentrated on polishing his bowl. "I'm not into robots."

I couldn't help but snort out. "That's good to know, son. You can narrow it to girls or boys."

Justin bumped into my knee again. "They're not robots. Don't you like cars? It has cars, really smart cars." He was still trying to sell the movie to Gus.

"Talking cars? A car named Bumblebee? Seriously, Jus. I'm ten, not three!"

My husband looked seriously gutted, and I couldn't even feel sorry for him. He hadn't found anyone in our group of friends to share his love for that stupid movie. Not even Michael, which meant the movie was truly stupid. I watched it once, because Justin dragged me to the theatre when it first came out. Of course, we spent most of the time making out, even though his eyes kept going to the screen, only to close when I slid my hand inside his pants.

"What about the movie Cars? You know, the animated one."

Gus sighed dramatically. "Disney movies are overrated." He put his now empty ice cream bowl aside, focusing on Justin. "There's this cool new actor – Jason Statham. He has awesome movies. Have you seen Transporter? And there's this new one, Crank! But moms won't let me watch these. Too much violence, they said."

I smiled widely, meeting Justin's eyes above Gus's head. "Yup, he's my son," I mouthed.

Justin sighed in defeat. "Action movies are to the right." He pointed to our DVDs.

"Seriously? We can watch movies with violence? Awesome!" Gus rushed over to select a movie.

"But it will be our secret, Sonny Boy," I said loudly. The munchers were likely to kill both Justin and me if they caught wind of this.

oOo

Gus's impromptu visit didn't change our Thanksgiving plans. We still went to Debbie's for dinner, where she went into full grandma mode. We didn't even know we had a kid that evening, all thanks to Debbie and her coddling.

He accompanied us to what could be Daphne's last ultrasound before she gave birth. The traitor even proclaimed he liked the name Alannah for a girl, and he stuck with Trevor for a boy. I sincerely hoped we were having a girl.

On his last day in Pittsburgh, Gus managed to convince me to play tennis.

The house had a tennis court only because it had been part of Justin's dream home. It wasn't my favorite sport, but I couldn't say no to him.

Every time I indulged Justin, I knew we ended up naked on the court within the first set. This time it was impossible to do so.

Running after that small green ball all over the court made me lose anything I might have put on at Debbie's dinner. Surprisingly, Justin preferred to stay on the side and draw than join us.

By dinner time, I was beat, but so was Gus. I was looking forward to him sleeping soundly. I knew he'd be gone tomorrow and I'd miss him terribly, but I also missed falling asleep naked with Justin.

When we were done eating, I sent Gus to his room, promising I'd be right there to kiss him good night.

Being right there had to wait. I made the mistake to offer washing the dishes. Instead of helping me, Justin kept brushing against my ass like he was in heat.

"Either bend over the table so I can fuck you, or cut it out! You're driving me crazy."

"It's been three days," he whined, pushing his boner against my ass.

"We have a kid under our roof," I reminded him, trying to show some self-control.

"And we will have one permanently soon enough. Is our sex life going to disappear? Poof?"

I burst out laughing. "Poof?" I raised an eyebrow, glancing at him.

"Poof," he repeated seriously. His hands undid my string, pushing my shorts down my legs with an appreciative moan, before taking two handfuls of my ass.

I expected him to kneel and suck me off, but the little shit had other ideas.

"What are you doing?" I didn't sound as stern as I wished. My breath hitched when Justin pressed one saliva coated finger into my hole.

"Don't mind me. You finish washing the dishes."

"Justin, we talked about this." I nearly dropped the glass when his nail grazed my prostate.

"Relax. I'm not going to fuck you." He slid to the floor, spreading my cheeks and blowing warm air over my hole. "I'm only going to drive you crazy."

My hands started shaking, and when I felt his tongue at my entrance I knew washing the dishes had to wait if we still wanted everything unbroken.

Fuck. Damn his talented tongue.

Shutting off the water, I rested my elbows on the edge of the sink, pushing my ass closer to his mouth, succumbing to the amazing feeling. Between his fingers and tongue, I was on the edge sooner than I expected.

That was when Justin turned me around, engulfing my dick in his mouth.

"Shit. Oh, fuck!" I fisted my hands in his hair as he bobbed his head, swallowing around me.

I let my head fall back, letting the tingling sensation spread over my body as he brought me closer and closer to what seemed to be an overwhelming orgasm. I lost control of the filter brain-mouth, saying all kinds of dirty things I knew affected him as much as me.

Since my blood was down to my cock, it took me a few moments to hear Gus saying something about being thirsty.

"FUCK."

He was in the doorway, staring at us in confusion.

I wasn't sure how Justin managed to pull my pants up without me flashing my own son a piece of my steel hard dick; which was now screaming at me for being parted from Justin's throat. I wanted to cry. I'd been so close…yet so far.

I couldn't take my eyes off Gus, knowing he'd probably seen too much. But for my life, I couldn't talk. The head on my shoulder wasn't functioning properly at the moment.

Justin looked like he wanted to magically disappear. His whole face was red, redder than I'd ever seen it.

"What's going on?" Gus asked suspiciously, his eyes moving from mine to Justin's as if searching the correct answer. I hoped he never found it.

Justin laughed nervously, high and breathy, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your dad dropped his pants. Loose string. I was helping him pull them up."

At least, his brain was working well enough to come up with a feeble excuse.

"Oh, really? I thought I heard Dad moaning. Then I saw…" He frowned, glancing to my groin.

"You didn't see anything!" I turned to the fridge, opening the door. Thank fuck for the cool air. I snatched a bottle of water, then closed it. "Here. Your water."

He took the bottle, still watching us suspiciously. When he was back in the doorway, and I was sure it was over, he turned around, eyes wide.

Now what?

"Was that an intimate moment I shouldn't have seen? Mom told me to knock before going in their room. Remember, the incident I told you about? But this is the kitchen… I didn't knock."

Why is he trying to find logic in this fucked-up situation? "It's all right, Sonny Boy. Not all…intimate moments happen in the bedroom. Well, not around here. I can't speak for your moms."

"Brian!" Justin hissed, watching me with huge, blue eyes. "We're really sorry you had to see that. Don't mention it to anyone, especially your moms."

"Sure. Really, I'm sorry," Gus mumbled.

"I'll be with you in a sec, to tuck you in," I promised as he disappeared up the stairs.

Justin fell in the first available chair. "Kill me now."

"Now, Sunshine. I'm sure it happens to every parent to be caught by their children doing the nasty."

"Yeah, don't remind me about that."

"That sounds like a nice bedtime story. Let me say goodnight to Gus." I kissed his head. "I'll come to bed soon."

Justin sighed. "Do keep your smartass remarks to yourself."

"I'll do my best."

Justin's POV

"Why do you have to go?" I shouted, my voice hoarse. "You have many other competent people you could send on this fucking trip to Brazil!"

"Justin, I already explained it to you. This is a new drug and I'm the fucking boss. I have to go there and talk to them in person. I'll even have a doctor with me to make sure I don't bring shit back in the country."

I was so sick of his excuses to take this trip, I wanted to dump his fucking suitcase in his head, then shove him out the window. "How long did you know about this?"

"A while." Okay, I seriously wanted to punch him, especially when he was acting so chill about it.

"How long is a while, Brian? Did you know you won't be here for my birthday? Did you?"

He cringed, but didn't look up from folding his shirt carefully. We don't want to get his precious Prada shirt wrinkled.

"I'm talking to you, asshole!" I snatched the shirt from his hands, throwing it on the other side of the room. I grabbed him by the chin, turning him to face me. "Why did you let me make the plans for skiing this weekend? Do you actually enjoy hurting me? Just fucking tell me, so I'll know what to expect in the future!"

He scoffed, pulling away. "Of course. I simply love hurting you. I get off on it." He rolled his eyes, taking my hand. "Sunshine, it actually hurts to see you so sad."

I wanted to pull my hand away, but I loved the way his skin felt against mine. Brian was always my weak spot, and it was never a good sign for him to touch me when we were fighting.

"Nothing was clear. I've been working on this account since Shane told me about it. Remember Shane? He's the guy we were after, years ago, then I got him, and he discovered my cancer."

"Shane?" I scowled. I didn't give a fuck who he was.

"He remembered I worked in advertising. He came to me last summer with this proposition. He knew about this company in Brazil, and I accepted his proposal to help him bring this new drug in the country. It took a long time to get everything legal and… Are you listening to me?"

"Were you ever going to tell me this?"

"I'm telling you now!"

I growled, pushing him out of my way as I stormed out of the room. I wanted to throttle him. The desire to strangle him had never been stronger.

For over a week I'd been working on making this trip our best holiday. Apparently, Brian and I and skiing didn't mix.

I was going alone. Again.

"Fuck off," I barked at the cat when she came to rub against my ankles. I didn't want any contact with any other living being.

I slumped in the stuffed armchair in Brian's study, staring gloomily at the bottle of whiskey. I was debating if it would make me a better man if I decided to drown my sorrows in the Beam.

Just as I was about to open the bottle, Brian came through the door, leaning against it. He looked pale, but I didn't give a shit. I didn't need his excuses.

"Justin."

"Leave me the fuck alone," I hissed, uncapping the bottle.

"Listen to me." He gripped the door handle, as if keeping his balance onto it.

I took a swig of the whiskey. "Save your apologies."

"Daphne's dad just called. It's happening."

I put the bottle away, standing so fast my world tilted. I fell back in the armchair.

"Justin!" Brian came closer, kneeling at my feet, his hands bracing on my knees. "Sunshine, we have to go to the hospital."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out, not like my brain was working at the moment.

All I could think was: I'm not ready to be a dad.

I allowed Brian to lift me up and push me into the car. Once I was in the passenger seat, he rushed back into the house to grab the bag we had prepared.

When he slid behind the wheel, he threw me a small smile. It was the unsure kind he used after our fights.

"Are you going into shock? Do you want a paper bag or something?" He stroked my hair, still smiling.

"I'm okay," I managed to say, taking his hand and squeezing it. "Shit, Brian. I'm going to be a dad!"

Brian grinned, patting my knee, before focusing on backing out of the garage and driving away.

"You'll be amazing," he said softly.

"Why weren't you freaked out when you had Gus?"

He snorted. "I was too high to register what was going on. The next day, though, it hit me full force—I had two babies!" He mock-punched me in the shoulder.

I whacked him in the arm with a plush toy from the bag Brian had thrown in my lap. "Beware, the octopus might eat you!" I pressed the toy to the side of his face.

"Christ. You're still a baby." He pushed me away. "Don't play with the kid's toys. We have our own kind of toys, Sunshine."

"Shut up! It's catching up with me. I'm going to be a dad!"

Brian slapped the back of his hand to my chest. "I doubt anyone can top Daphne's Christmas present to you. And let's not forget your birthday is in two days."

"Oh, so now you remember about my birthday?" I muttered, then I considered his words. "How cool would that be? I read that first labor for women can take up to thirty hours. What if she gives birth on my birthday? This day is almost gone, only a couple more hours. That separates me from my baby by twenty-six hours."

"Your math skills scare me," Brian mumbled.

"Now, faster. I have a baby to meet," I said excitedly.

Brian shuddered. "Can you not put the words faster and baby in the same sentence?"

"Are you suddenly into pet names?" I leaned closer, biting his earlobe.

"Unless it's about calling you Sunshine, then no. Anyway, you should call everyone, give them the great news."

By the time we reached the hospital, I'd called everyone letting them know I was officially becoming a father.

When we arrived, I rushed to Daphne's room, while Brian stayed in the Waiting Room to wait for our family.

"Hey!" I took her hand, grinning. "How are you?"

Her sweaty hair was plastered to her forehead, her face turned into a grimace, and her eyes narrowed. "I'm never speaking to you again after this is over," she puffed out through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry you're in pain. I'll be right here. I promise." I patted our joined hands. "Though, can you let up? My hand hurts…you know?"

Her dark eyes turned to slits and I realized talking rationally with her would have to wait.

The nurse who'd joined us to check on Daphne, smiled at me. "They all say the same. You'll be in her good graces once the baby is in her arms."

I stared at her, surprised. After she left, I caught Daphne's eye. She even tried to smile, but failed miserably.

"She thinks we're this cute, straight couple," she said, between deep breaths.

The Lamaze classes must have paid off for her. Because for me, it was all a blur at the moment. The only thing I remembered was having a focal point and breathing slowly and deeply.

Her doctor kept coming in at regular intervals of time to check on her, but always left, saying she wasn't dilated enough.

"I can't fucking do this. It hurts. Do you think you can fool that nurse into giving me more morphine?"

"I don't want my baby to be born a junkie," I joked.

It was a poor time to joke, though. With more force than I thought Daphne capable of, she grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking me down. "I need morphine now, or I'll start yelling."

"On to it," I blurted, leaving the room.

At the nurse station, I spotted the easiest prey—a male nurse. It didn't take more than a smile and an explanation about my friend being in pain. He went to her room, while I decided to check on our family.

Ours was the largest group, and they all stood up when I spilled, literally, into the Waiting Room. My legs felt like jelly.

"Justin!" Brian was next to me in a flash. "Everything okay? Is it over?"

"Not quite yet." I couldn't help but chuckle at the general groan, while everyone went back to their seats. Except Debbie, my mother, and Daphne's parents.

"Shouldn't you be in there with her?" Mr. Chanders demanded.

"I fetched a nurse for Daph and decided to let everyone know…if you want to go home…it might be a while." I shrugged.

"We're staying. Do you think you can convince the nurse to let one of us stay with Daph until she delivers?" Mrs. Chanders almost begged me.

"I think I can do it. Thank God for male nurses." I winked in Brain's direction.

He gasped mockingly. "Should I remind you that you're married and it's not polite to blow the nurse?"

A few gasps followed his comment. I rolled my eyes. "Come with me, Mrs. Chanders." I turned to the doors when Brian caught my elbow, pecking my mouth.

"Next time you come here, you better have news like boy or girl."

"Aye, sir!" I kissed his cheek, before leading Daphne's mother to her daughter's room. "They think another hour or so."

"We've been here for over five hours, close to six."

Whoa.

I had no idea how much time had passed as I'd kept Daph company and had my hand abused.

Mitchell, Daphne's doctor slash love interest, was chiding the male nurse right outside her room.

Oh shit.

I wanted to hide behind Mrs. Chanders. Or maybe run to the bathroom.

Escaping was out of question when he pointed to me, telling Mitchell in a loud voice that I put him up to giving her more morphine.

Mitchell caught my eyes, shaking his head, then turning to the nurse. "You don't listen to family, you dumb idiot! Especially, the father. He'd always want to make the mother feel less pain!"

I liked the way he explained it without putting label on our status. It was as simple as that. I was the father and Daphne was the mother. Two best friends making a baby.

While the nurse was trying to excuse himself, a loud scream came from inside the room. All of us dashed inside to see Daphne holding her large belly, her eyes wide and locked onto mine.

"It's coming."

Mitchell and the nurse bustled around, as Daphne's mother went to her side, whispering to her. I stood rooted in place by the door. Only when Mitchell told Mrs. Chanders she had to leave, instincts kicked in and I dashed to Daphne's side.

"I'm here, Daph." I took one of her hands in both mine, squeezing.

The whole delivery process made me thank God I was a guy. I nearly fainted a few times, but I'd never admit it to anyone, especially Brian.

I'd also lost feeling in my hand from Daphne's powerful squeezing the shit out of it.

With all her screaming, I was curious whether she could still talk when this was over. But then everything ceased—Daphne's screams, the dull pain in my hand—because another sound filled the air in the room. It was a different scream; a baby's cry.

My stomach turned into knots as one of the nurses placed the small bundle of blankets in my arms. She smiled at us, saying, "You're the parents of a beautiful and healthy girl."

I beamed at Daph, before focusing on the small person in my arms. She was so warm and tiny. I was afraid to touch her.

Looking back at Daphne, I leaned closer and placed our daughter on her chest, not giving her time to argue. In the past few days, she'd told me she didn't want to hold the baby, but I told her it was bullshit. She was going to be a big part in their life. We weren't going to cut her off.

Brian had even joked that if we freaked, we'd pass the baby to her entirely.

"Thank you, Daph. Love you." I kissed her forehead.

She met my eyes, shining with tears. "She's the best thing I've done in my life. Thank you, Justin."

I smiled, carefully touching the back of my index finger to the baby's cheek when she fussed, giving a weak cry.

"The nurses need to bathe her. We'll see her soon."

I laughed, picking our daughter and holding her against my chest. "I might accept Brian's name choice. She's a little jewel."

"Alannah Tiffany Taylor-Kinney. What a mouthful." Daphne laughed along.

Reluctantly, I gave her to the nurse, already missing the warm, little body. We were announced we'd be reunited in the morning.

I had no idea what time it was. "What time was she born?" I asked, looking at Mitchell.

"You'd laugh. 3:33."

Daphne giggled. "Of course, we couldn't expect anything normal with you as her father."

"So there are about twenty-four hours between us. Mom said she had me at 3 in the morning too. But tomorrow," I added for Mitchell's sake when he eyed me curiously.

It made Daphne laugh harder. "You're not even born yet and you had a child!"

I poked my tongue out at her. "This is the best present ever!"

Daphne's eyes widened. "You mean it tops Brian's trick for your nineteenth birthday?"

"Definitely!" I said as seriously as possible.

Mitchell cleared his throat, probably wondering what depraved parents we were going to be. "Miss Chanders needs to rest. You can see her in the morning, Mr. Taylor."

"Call me Justin, for Christ's sake! I told you that Mr. Taylor shit reminds me of my father."

"Okay, Justin. Still, you need to leave."

"Go." Daphne waved me off. "Give everyone the good news. I won't be much fun. I'm exhausted, though…could you send my mom to my room?"

"Sure thing." I kissed her forehead, stroking her hair. "Thank you."

She smiled, cupping my cheek. "It was worth it."

I left Mitchell to take care of her while I went to the Waiting Room. I found Brian right outside with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Well? What are we having?" He said in greeting.

I beamed, taking the cup from him and sipping from it. I needed the caffeine. "A little jewel."

"So it's Tiffany. Thank Baby Jesus. If I had to call my kid Trevor for the rest of my life…"

I laughed, hugging him tightly. "Alannah Tiffany," I told him seriously.

"Let's give everyone the news then head home for a few hours of shut eye," he suggested, opening the door and ushering me inside.

I repeated every detail of the delivery to our family, before we decided to come back in the morning since it was late, and some of them still had work in a few hours.

Before leaving, I took Brian to the nursery. It wasn't difficult to spot our baby girl. "Look. Front row, third cot. Isn't she precious?"

Brian wrapped his arms around me. "She has your cute button nose. She is gorgeous, Justin."

I grinned, leaning into his side, simply staring at the small miracle in front of us.

"I'll call Patrick. I'll send him with Shane. You were right."

"Our weekend plans are gone anyway." I shrugged.

"I'm not leaving you—now or ever. It was silly to insist on going to Brazil. Patrick can do it. I trust him."

oOo

After a few hours of sleep, I was fresh and ready to be reunited with my girls.

With a little luck we could bring them home by the end of the day. After a lot of prodding and begging from our part, we'd convinced Daphne to come live with us, so she'd be around the baby, too. If it got to be too much, Brian offered to buy her an apartment, which we'd help pay.

I grabbed a shower, got dressed, made coffee, and Brian was still asleep.

I was too hyper to stay still or wait until he decided to rouse, so after I filled Cupcake's bowl with food, I petted his head, looking at him seriously. "Do your worst, boy."

He understood immediately he was allowed to do something that might kill him, but he went to war with a happy bark and wriggle of tail.

Not one minute later, I heard Brian threatening the dog with decapitation if he licked him again.

I snickered into my coffee.

When Brian joined me in the kitchen, half an hour later, thankfully dressed and ready to go, he threw me a death stare.

"What? No good morning kiss?" I teased, pouting.

Brian snatched a cup and poured himself coffee. "I already got mine elsewhere!"

As if knowing we were talking about him, Cupcake trotted into the kitchen, and went straight to Brian, nudging the back of his thigh with his muzzle. When Brian turned abruptly, stomping his foot to the floor, Cupcake scurried to me, hiding behind my legs.

"Aww. He didn't mean it." I crouched to hug the poor dog. I stroked between his eyes. "Be a good boy now. There's food and water. We'll be back later."

"Stop kissing his ass," Brian muttered. "What? You're a little monster," he told Cupcake when he turned to Brian.

I hugged the dog tighter, stroking his fur.

"This is all your fault, Sunshine. If you didn't coddle him so much, he'd act like a normal dog. This way he thinks it's okay to jump unsuspecting people and lick them."

"That's how he expresses his love and devotion. Humans kiss. Dogs lick." I petted his head one last time, before raising, and washing my hands. "We can go whenever you're done queening about the dog licking you."

Brian shoved me out the door. "I'd rather you licked me."

All the way to the hospital, Brian was on the phone, using the hand-free set, talking to Patrick then to Shane then back to Patrick. My dear control freak husband had to know everything was going according to his new plan.

When we arrived, I led the way inside, ignoring the looks we got at Brian's loud barking orders down the phone. I left him outside Daphne's door, and stepped inside alone.

Daphne already had two other visitors—my mom and her mom. They were on the couch, talking.

"Hey, grandmas!" I waved to them, walking straight to my girls. "Hiii." I grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"She's so beautiful, Justin," Mom said warmly.

"Yes, I was just admiring her eyes," Daphne's mom commented. "If the blue stays, she'd be a real heartbreaker. With Daphne's skin color, your blue eyes and blond hair, my God!"

Daph rolled her eyes, patting my knee. "Here. Carefully." She put Alannah in my arms.

I bit my tongue not to repeat Brian's words from the night Gus was born when Mel had told him to be careful when he picked him up for the first time.

Holding her firmly, I moved to the chair next to the bed, bouncing her a little to make her quiet down. My breath caught in my throat when she opened her eyes. She truly had the most beautiful shade of blue I'd ever seen in my life.

One little hand thrust out of the blankie and a small cry escaped her little body.

"Does she need anything?" I looked around, worried. I got only amused looks in return.

"I just finished feeding her. She might need a change later."

"Then why is she crying?" I protested.

"Babies cry. If she's like you, I hope you slept well until now, because you're not getting any more sleep." Mom smirked at me.

I scowled at her, poking my tongue out.

Daph reached a hand to grasp Alannah's little foot. "Your dad is being silly."

The door opened loudly to reveal Brian in all his Rage glory. His sharp expression softened when he spotted me with Alannah.

"Good morning," he greeted everyone. "At least, I hope it's good for you. I had to deal with a fuckwit before I fully woke up, nevermind being roused by slobber on my face."

"And that's your other dad. He's pissed off at the moment, apparently," Daph added with a smile.

"Sure as fuck I'm pissed. No one can do anything right if I'm not there to hold their hand."

Mom eyed him concerned, probably wondering what kind of problems he had at work. Unlike Daphne's mother, she stared at Brian in shock at his vocabulary.

I cleared my throat. "Come here, Bri. Meet our daughter properly."

He leaned over me, rubbing the back of his fingers against Alannah's little cheek. I about melted at the sight, especially when Brian kissed her on the forehead. Then he moved to sit next to Daphne, lounging by her side, and draping an arm around her shoulder.

"You two make beautiful babies." He kissed her cheek soundly.

"Why, thank you. But this is the one and only. They say women forget about giving birth. Let me tell you, it's a huge fucking lie!"

"Daphne!" Her mother chided her, while I snickered.

Thankfully, my mother had stopped giving me the look when I said curse words. Mrs. Chanders wasn't used to hear Daphne cursing, apparently.

Daphne scoffed. "You didn't have me naturally. Don't say anything." She elbowed Brian playfully. It seemed it was time for their shameless flirting session. "As dashing as you look, I'd skip."

"Now, Daphne, my ego is seriously wounded."

"I prefer my men without any white hair or age lines."

Ouch. Low blow, my dear friend.

Brian rolled his lips inside his mouth, unconsciously touching his white temple. I made sure to kiss that spot every so often so he'd know it didn't bother me.

"I know, you prefer them blond, middle aged, and preferably your doctor."

She turned red, widening her eyes. "How did you know?"

"Everyone can tell you fucked your doctor."

No one could tell, besides Brian. Even I was shocked. I knew she had a thing for him, but actually to do something like that…while pregnant with MY child.

"It was twice, okay?" Daphne glanced around the room, embarrassed. "He's really hot. We're going to do it properly now."

"He's going to take you to his house next time, we know. There won't be any need for him to fuck you in his office anymore." Brian laughed.

While our moms picked their jaws off the floor, I busied myself with my daughter who started whining.

"They'll take some getting used to, but they're not bad guys. You'll see your daddy can be really sweet when he wants," I whispered.

"Don't spill all the gory details about my Stepford husband tendencies, Sunshine!"

Brian's POV

By the end of the day, both Daphne and Tiffany (I refused to refer to her as Alannah) were allowed home.

After the hectic morning with Patrick freaking out about his sudden trip to Brazil, which I solved swiftly, I thought I could enjoy a few hours with my favorite people in the world. Not happening.

A new problem arose, sending my blood pressure skyrocketing. Mr. Carlson, the car dealer, who I'd helped increasing his profit by the end of the year as promised, had helped me get Justin his present for his birthday. Though, one of his employees called to let me know they were delivering Justin's car in half an hour.

I tried explaining to the morons that I wasn't at home and it would take me over half an hour to get there, but they said they couldn't switch the delivery time. They even reassured me, they'd wait until I got home.

The unfortunate event led to me leaving the Jeep to Justin, as I took a cab home. I gave him a feeble excuse about the pets being alone for too long, so he'd let me go ahead.

I hated every second of the cab ride, and was relieved when we made it home in record time. I tipped the cabbie generously.

As I stepped out of the cab, the delivery guys pulled up next to me—one in Justin's new car and one in their company car.

The car was even more beautiful than the last time I'd seen it and taken it for a test drive. I still couldn't believe Mr. Carlson could get his hands on this specimen – Jaguar HJ 75 Platinum Concept, released late last summer. Only the best for Sunshine.

I'd have to thank Mr. Carlson generously for helping me buy this car and bring it into the country. I could foresee a long and fructuous relationship between Kinnetik and his car dealer shop.

After signing for getting the delivery and thanking the guys again, I stared at the car for a long time.

How the fuck do I hide a car? Do I put a bow on top of it? Do I tuck a card saying "Happy Birthday, Justin!" under one wiper?

When Justin called, letting me know they were on their way home, I panicked.

My genius plan for a gift had a huge glitch. What do I do with the car so it will be a surprise?

In the end, I parked it in the garage, next to the 'vette.

While I waited for them to arrive, I called Debbie to let her know she was allowed to prepare dinner for Sunshine. She'd told me to think about it while we were waiting for news the other night. We were going to celebrate his birthday and Tiffany's over the weekend.

I was trying to keep Cupcake from demolishing the place (he felt a change was coming), so I didn't hear the car pulling up in the garage or doors opening and closing. Until I heard Justin calling for me.

"Brian? Do we have guests?" His voice wavered.

Fighting off a smile, I turned to find him in the doorway that led to the garage, arms full of plush toys and flowers.

I helped him with the baggage, depositing everything on the table. Then I took him in my arms, stroking his face. "Did you think I forgot?"

"Forget what?" He glanced distracted at Daphne and Jennifer.

Daphne had her bag over her shoulder and more toys in her arms, while Jennifer had her bundled up granddaughter. I could barely see her face, except her nose and eyes, which were closed.

Justin grinned when he saw me leaning over his mother's shoulder. "She's sleeping. Thank God. You should have heard her wailing after you left."

"Yeah, she missed his screams and decided to match them," Daph muttered. "Damn, I'm tired."

"So, what were you saying earlier?" Justin found my eyes.

"Happy birthday, Sunshine!"

He gasped, eyes widening and shining with unshed tears. "You remembered!"

"As if I could forget."

"He thinks everyone forgot about his birthday, being all excited about Alannah," Daphne explained, sinking into a chair. "I told him he's ridiculous."

Justin scowled at her. "Well, no one can top your present, Daph." He pecked her forehead. "Love you."

"Love you too, Jus."

"While you all declare your love for each other, I'm going to show my granddaughter her new room," Jen said cheerfully, disappearing around the corner.

"Come with me." I took his hand, pulling him back the way he came.

"Must we? Now? We just arrived."

"We can go to her as soon as you properly greet your present."

Justin glanced over his shoulder at Daphne, then at me, confused. "Greet my present?" He repeated in disbelief. "Did you get me another hustler?"

I rolled my eyes, tugging lightly at his hair. "Don't be a smartass. I learned my lesson. Now, come on." I pulled him to the garage.

"I'm not leaving the house!"

"No one said you have to leave. Your present." I waved to the Jaguar.

His jaw unhinged as he stared at the car in surprise. "No way."

"Yes way." I nodded.

"Fuck, Brian! You got me a CAR?"

"Is there something wrong with that?" I frowned, worried I might have screwed up somehow.

"Wrong?" He whispered. "No. Fuck, Brian." He tentatively touched the hood. "You're fucking unbelievable. How can I ever top this?"

"You can't." I smirked.

"I know." He pouted adorably.

I went closer and took his face in my hands. "Because you already gave me more than I could ever expect to have. You gave me you and your love."

Justin pressed his lips to mine, as his tears soaked my face. "I love you so much," he sobbed.

"Same here, twat."

"I don't want to interrupt, but your mom said if you disappeared for a quickie, she's stealing Alannah," Daphne said from the doorway, leaning against the jamb. "By the way, nice car!"

Justin hastily wiped his cheeks, giving her his brightest of smiles. "Thanks!" With one last kiss to me, he rushed into the house.

"A big improvement from his nineteenth birthday," she commented, admiring the car.

"I don't get it. Why does everyone rub that in my face every time? We celebrated a few other of his birthdays after that one."

"It was memorable. Seriously, you could have done better."

I sighed heavily. "Don't you think I berated myself long and hard enough when I realized if I hadn't brought that hustler, Justin would have never gone to the fiddler? But that's what if, and it's irrelevant. I'd have done enough damage by then to send him away with or without his present; when I always wanted him by my side."

Daphne shook her head. "Jesus, Brian. You always had a funny way to show him how you felt."

"Thankfully, I've grown up enough now." I smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Aren't you tired? Why don't you go lie down?"

"That's a good idea. I need some rest before the whole feeding fiasco starts."

"Thank you, Daphne." I kissed her cheek, resulting in a light pink covering her face. After all these years, I could still make her blush.

"I don't regret this decision. I know how happy I made both of you."

"And I want you to know you're allowed to steal little Tiffany whenever you want." I winked, steering her inside the house.

"Already mourning your sex life?" She giggled.

Little did I know her words would come true mere hours later. Jen wanted to stay, but Molly had a cold and Tuck wasn't the best at playing nurse. Before leaving, she told me she trusted me. The problem was I didn't trust myself. Her son was more of an adult than I ever was and probably ever will be.

After a quick dinner, the three of us went upstairs to check on the baby, before heading to our rooms.

Justin went straight to the shower, and I couldn't pass the offer he gave me in the small smile thrown over his shoulder. He kept battling my wandering hands, saying he wanted his birthday sex on the bed.

I didn't wait to be told twice. I rinsed us fast, then dragged him to the bed, dripping wet. I got as far as to stretch him and settle between his legs when a high pitched cry came from the baby motion installed on the nightstand.

"Fuck!" I spat. Awesome timing.

Justin's legs flew over my head as he made an aerobic movement and was in his sweats and out the door in record time.

I wrapped the bathrobe around me, doing my best to ignore the ache in my groin. I had to get used to this.

When I finally dragged my ass to the nursery room, I found Daphne in the rocking chair, feeding baby Tiffany, with Justin hovering. The sight melted my heart.

"Join us, daddy." He gave me a huge smile as if we hadn't been majorly cock-blocked moments ago.

oOo

By the time Saturday rolled around, all three of us were walking zombies.

I suffered more than Justin or Daphne. They could catch a nap while Tiffany slept. I couldn't because I had to be at work during the day.

On Saturday morning, it was unbelievably quiet when I woke up. I rolled around, ready to snuggle with my husband for a few more blissful minutes, while the baby slept. The only problem was that he was missing, his side of the bed was cold. It explained the silence.

Still tired, but unable to go back to sleep, I went downstairs after checking the nursery—empty.

The kitchen was just as empty, but I could see someone had made coffee, and there was something that looked like spilled milk on the counter and the cat was licking at it.

Justin and I had told Daphne even if she was staying with us, she shouldn't wake every time the baby cried. So we had a bottle of milk at the ready for an overnight feeding session, which could take up to three hours.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and made my way to the living room.

The fire was roaring and Cupcake lay sprawled in front of it, dozing off. Thankfully, he understood trying to take the tree down earned him an overnight in his dog house, which he hated. It was only Justin's fault for the dog not listening to us. He kissed his ass too much.

Speaking of, Justin was sprawled on the couch, in an odd position with Tiffany on his chest, and the baby bottle slipping from his hands, on the floor.

I carefully picked Tiffany as not to wake her, but I managed to wake Justin, who made to grab her back, keeping his eyes shut and wildly moving his hands. When he managed to punch me in the stomach, his eyes flew open, staring at me for a few moments, before blinking slowly, and groaning.

"I'm so tired, I want to die."

"Now, don't get morbid, Sunshine. Sleep. I'll take care of her."

He yawned loudly, folding his legs under him so I could join him on the couch. "Nah. We have guests coming soon. Why would you agree to host a birthday party when we have a newborn under the roof?"

"It was sort of planned ahead, but it was a Christmas thing. I have an idea. Why don't we celebrate both? It's Christmas Eve."

Justin stared at me for a long minute, not saying anything. "Did your mom drop you on the head a lot as a baby?"

I pursed my lips. "I don't know about being dropped on the head, but I know about being hit on the head a lot, later on," I answered quietly, not meeting his eyes.

Justin shuffled closer, wrapping his arms around me. "I love you," he said softly into my ear. "And I really, really hate your parents."

"The feeling is mutual. On both your statements." I kissed his lips, lingering until someone shifted into my arms, tensing up before a loud cry escaped her small body. "I appreciate Jennifer on a whole new level if you were anything like this," I mumbled.

"I don't fucking get it. I changed her, fed her, rocked her, and she slept. Now she's awake and crying—in your arms. You manage to calm the most agitated person on the face of the earth with your mere presence."

"Why, thank you, Sunshine." I smirked, before focusing on the distressed baby. "Shh. Go back to sleep." I bounced her a little, but it didn't work.

I could clearly remember Gus had his own crying sessions, but Tiffany seemed to cry louder.

From the fussing sounds she was making earlier, in five seconds flat she turned into a wailing machine. Justin leaned over my arm, stroking her head, whispering to her.

The whole ruckus woke Daphne. She appeared in the room bleary-eyed, took in the scene, groaned loudly, then picked Tiffany from my arms.

"Seriously. I leave you two alone with her for a few hours and you mess up."

Justin glowered, but didn't say anything. He watched somewhat enviously at how Daphne managed to calm our baby in a matter of seconds.

"Go, do something useful. Like shower. You both stink." She pirouetted on her heel and left the room.

"What's up her ass?" Justin muttered.

"I don't know about that, but I know what is going to be up your ass if you join me in the shower."

"I don't fucking get it!"

"The answer is my cock."

He threw me an annoyed look, showing me he wasn't up to play games. "I'm incapable of calming my own baby. Alannah hates me. I'm a shitty father."

"Justin." I took him in my arms, swaying a little. "Breathe. Calm, okay? Alannah can't fucking hate you! She's barely a week old. And if you're a shitty father, then what does that make me?" I kissed the top of his head, feeling him gradually relaxing. "You just need to learn how to take care of her, what she likes, what she needs. Okay?"

"Like Daphne knows better."

"She's the mother. It's her instinct to know."

"That instinct goes both ways. I read it in a book."

"Sunshine, you're too stressed. You pass the way you feel to the baby. I read it in a book," I added teasingly, when he stared at me blankly.

Unlike other times, I didn't extract a smile from him. "I'm going to shower. You're not invited." He stormed upstairs.

I followed him, but stopped in the nursery where Daphne was in the rocking chair with Tiffany on her chest and the octopus toy on her lap.

"I didn't mean to scream at you or Justin," she whispered.

"It will take a while for all of us to find our way around this. We need to work on a schedule."

"BRIAN!" Justin hollered from our room.

I smirked at Daphne. "Husband duties call."

"Yeah, right. After that fight, you're in the dog house. He might need something."

"My cock."

"God, Brian! Mind your potty mouth around the baby!"

"Brian, get your ass in here! NOW!"

"It's not like she understands," I said over my shoulder as I left.

I found Justin in the shower. "Change your mind?"

He scowled at me through the glass door, keeping it shut. "I'm out of shampoo."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Do I look like your mother?"

"You sure as hell act like her. Can you please hand me the shampoo? It's under the sink. I don't want to make a mess if I step out now all wet."

I snatched the bottle from the cupboard under the sink, thrust it to him through the small gape he left opening the door. I saw it as an invitation. "Can I join you? I'll wash your hair."

Luckily, I didn't grab a hold of the door, or I'd be missing four fingers. Justin slammed the door shut.

Little shit.

I could see through the foggy glass walls he was laughing and I wanted nothing more than to spank him for playing dirty.

Justin's POV

I was having a day from hell.

All I wanted was to lie in bed and never move again.

After my crappy morning where I barely got to kiss Brian before he was out the door, Alannah spilled her baby food on the floor and herself, then Cupcake ripped her favorite octopus plush toy when she threw some of her food at him too, and on top of all that I had to get to the gallery to discuss my latest show and secure a spot to have a few pieces always displayed.

By the time I hauled my ass out the house, it was nearing noon.

The meeting at the gallery went by surprisingly fast and without a hitch. Once I was done talking business, I used their toilet to change Alannah, before heading to my next stop on my way to Brian.

Liberty Diner was as busy as always when I stepped through the door at three in the afternoon. Debbie rushed over the second she spotted us.

"My precious!" She cooed, keeping her eyes on Alannah.

"I knew you loved me, but not that much," I teased.

"Shut up, Sunshine!" She took my daughter from her carry-on secured to my chest, hugging her tightly. "Hey, sweetie. You're getting so big."

"And naughty," I mumbled, slumping into an empty booth.

"Takes after her other daddy. That's right, isn't it? Learning new things from Brian?" Debbie asked Alannah, quite seriously. Then she turned to me, smiling. "Oh, Justin. She's so beautiful!"

"Do you mind not jinxing her or making some freaky baby voodoo? The last time you cooed over her, she hiccupped for an hour straight."

"It was your fault. You fed her too fast. I told you."

I rolled my eyes. "Speaking of food. Is my order done?"

"All packed and ready. Are you sure you don't want to throw him a surprise party?"

"Positive, Deb. The last time Brian had a surprise birthday party, he closed himself in a coffin."

She laughed loudly, pinching my cheek. "Ha! Because you were all shit at organizing parties. Now Em can—"

"No, Debbie! And mind your language, would you? I swear, I'm going to kill someone if her first word is a curse." Alannah twisted in Debbie's arms, wanting back at me. I picked her up gently and placed her back in the pouch. "Just last night, Brian had a session of f-bombs when Cupcake stole one of his new shoes. Someone was paying close attention to the words flying out of her daddy's mouth." I kissed Alannah's head when she smiled big at me as if knowing we were talking about her.

Debbie brought a paper bag filled with delicious smelling food. By smelling it, I realized how famished I was. "Here's your food, honey. I also put a few lemon squares instead of cake." She winked. "But I can make him a nice, chocolate cake."

"I already baked one yesterday. Half of it has mysteriously disappeared over night, though. If I didn't know better, I'd blame the munchkins." I laughed. "Brian went after water at some point after midnight and never returned. I mean, he did return, but I don't know when. I'd fallen asleep."

Debbie stared at me, shocked. "He eat chocolate in the middle of the night?"

"Don't worry. I plan on helping him burn it off later tonight." I grinned, feeling my cheeks heating.

"You sure you don't want me to keep her overnight?" She squeezed Alannah's little hand, earning a scowl from my baby.

Alannah freed her hand, before wrapping it tightly on my shirt, huffing loudly, and kicking her legs.

"It's okay, Debbie. I'm sure Brian will like all of us there for his birthday. His family—me and Alannah," I explained. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Please!"

The remorseful look on her face freaked me out.

"Cancel whatever you have planned," I added. "We have to go. Say goodbye to your crazy grandma." I waved Alannah's hand to Debbie, grabbed the bag, then left.

I made the mistake to feed Alannah when we got in the car, so I'd have time with my husband once we reached Kinnetik. Of course, she ended up barfing it all up by the time we got to our destination.

I wanted to slap myself at how stupid I was.

It took me fifteen minutes to clean the mess and change her clothes. Once she was squeaky clean, I took my ever-present backpack filled with her stuff, the food bag, and made my way inside Kinnetik.

There was a new doorman. I vaguely remembered Brian saying his usual one needed a vacation.

This one didn't seem too bright. He stepped in front of me, giving me a raised eyebrow. "Excuse me, sir. You can't barge in here."

I gaped at him, rearranging all my bags. All I wanted was to sit down and not move an inch for the foreseeable future. "You, excuse me," I hissed. "I can come in here any time I damn well please!"

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Are you joking? Do you know who I am?" At that point, I wasn't sure whether to be amused or annoyed.

"A client who didn't find a sitter," he said snidely.

I snorted. "I'm Brian's husband. This is our daughter. She misses her daddy, so don't make her wait any longer to see him."

He eyed me worried, looking between my face to Alannah and back. Then his eyes zeroed on my hand on Alannah's head, and they widened. He spotted my ring. "I'm so sorry, sir. It was my mistake. I'm just trying to do my job. I apologize. I didn't know what you looked like, Mr. uh… I'm not sure what I should say."

I tried not to laugh at how flustered he got. "Justin Taylor-Kinney. And this is Alannah Tiffany."

"Joe McNeil."

"Hi, Joe. Bye, Joe," I said over my shoulder, walking to Brian's office.

At the corner of the corridor leading to his lair, I bumped into Cynthia. She seemed surprised to see me.

"Justin! This is a surprise. How did you get past Joe? He calls when anyone wants to get into the building."

"This." I patted Alannah's head. "And this." I tapped my wedding band. "Pretty good alibis."

Cynthia smiled. "She's gotten so big. Go right ahead. He's locked himself in there and is set to murder every person who wishes him a happy birthday."

"It was a pleasure knowing you, Cynthia. I'm walking right into my death."

She laughed, shaking her head.

When I stepped into his office, Brian's head snapped up from his computer, eyes narrowed. He brightened instantly when he saw us.

In a few long strides, he had our baby girl in his arms, grinning like crazy. "Tiff." He kissed her head. It never ceased to amaze me how he insisted on calling her Tiffany. Poor kid might be confused about her name by now. "Sunshine." He leaned closer to kiss me in greeting. "Been painting?" Brian fingered my shirt. "Eww. The fuck is this?" He wiped his finger on a clean spot of my shirt. Always considerate.

I peered at my shirt and the substance on it, knowing I hadn't painted in days. And never in my good shirts. "Oh. That's baby vomit." I grinned at the freaked look on his face. "I'm going to wash it. Uh, there's food in the bag. Happy birthday." I pecked his mouth on my way to the bathroom.

"You can borrow one of my shirts," he called after me.

"Thanks! Love you!"

When I rejoined them, Brian had unpacked the food on the table in front of the couch, where he was sitting with Alannah.

She was fussy, on the brink of a meltdown, and I knew it was all because of me. It was a lesson to never feed her before taking her for a ride. It also didn't help that her favorite toy was gone; and who knows how long it would take until she took to another toy.

"What do you need?" I asked, seeing Brian going through my backpack.

"The octopus. Did you forget it?"

"There's been an incident. Cupcake—"

Brian raised a hand, palm facing me. "Say no more." His eyes roamed me, making me squirm. "You look hot in my new Armani shirt."

"Shit! This is the new one? I'll take it off."

"You can keep it," he said dismissively. "All part of your plan to wear better clothes, remember?"

"Brian, if being an artist meant having ruined clothes, it was nothing compared to being the father of a baby!"

"I know." He grimaced, pushing a plate of macaroni to me as I sat next to him. "The freshest memory is from last week."

I chuckled, patting his knee. "I told you, I had just fed her, but do you ever listen to me?"

"Sometimes." He leaned closer to kiss my cheek. "That used to be my favorite Prada suit."

"Used to," I repeated his words, laughing. "Anyway, how's your day been? Mine can't end fast enough."

"Ditto. If I hear one more person congratulating me for getting older, I'll personally kill them." Brian sighed heavily, leaning back on the couch, with Alannah sprawled on his chest. "I used to be so scared of turning thirty. But here I am…forty. Fuck." He shuddered, absently patting Alannah's head.

"And you'll pass many more mile-stones. I promise you."

He caught my eye, scowling. "Just wait, Sunshine. In a couple of years you'll reach the dreadful three-oh."

"It's not scary for me, Brian. I have everything I ever wanted. And more. Growing old next to the man I love is the best way to spend my life. And watching the kids grow up and be happy."

"Don't get me started on the kids. Or one in particular." He groaned, closing his eyes. "I had no idea how alike Gus was to me until a few hours ago. He called to ask if I needed assistance walking, or if Jus had to change my diaper too, not only his sister's. Smartass."

I laughed, throwing my head back as tears sprang into my eyes. I'd known for years Gus was the perfect replica of his father. "What did you tell him?"

"That he better find a good speech for my obituary."

"You didn't! Brian," I chided him.

"Don't worry. It didn't scare the little shit. Apparently, the munchers have told him about my thirtieth birthday. Gus asked if I still had my coffin so he'd know what the expenses would be."

I gaped. "Good God, Brian. You have morbid conversations with your ten year old son."

"And you have secrets with your daughter," he teased, giving me his tongue-in-cheek expression.

I stroked Alannah's head, smiling at her then looking at her crazy daddy. "She's six months old."

"Exactly. She can keep your secrets, but the baby monitor can't." He narrowed his eyes.

I immediately knew what he was talking about. "Shit. You weren't supposed to know!"

"You were wrong."

"I saw it. And I swear I didn't pull it out."

"There's not one. There's two of them. Right on top." He patted the top of his head, sullenly. "Why can't I get one white hair at a time, like every normal person? They always appear in packs."

I cupped his cheek, staring into his sad eyes. "It still doesn't matter. You're still beautiful."

"It does, Justin. I thought you knew the Kinney Operating Manual."

"Would you feel better if we dye them? I mean it. We can find some hair dye I'm not allergic to."

"You'd do that for me?" His eyes widened and a smile tugged at his lips.

I gave him an incredulous look. "No. I hate you and I get off on seeing you miserable." I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I'd do it, you idiot!"

"You know I love you, right?" He whispered against my lips.

"Remind me how much."

Just as the kiss was getting better, a small fist connected with my jaw.

"Ow, baby. I love you too. No need to get violent." I kissed the top of her head, catching Brian's eye. He smiled warmly, all his love for us showing on his face.

After we ate, I waited for Brian to wrap up his day at work, before the three of us went home. I absolutely loved seeing him with Alannah, and he loved keeping her close so much I ended up driving back home in his car, while he took mine.

I was thankful he'd bought me a car with a backseat. It helped a lot travelling with a baby.

At home, I parked behind him, hoping the lights would stay out until we switched them on. If Debbie and Emmett valued their lives, they listened to me and didn't throw Brian a surprise party.

Brian led the way inside with Alannah in his arms.

I breathed a sigh of relief when no one jumped from around the corner singing 'Happy birthday'. The house was empty, aside from us and the pets.

Brian inspected what was left of the plush octopus, shaking his head.

I took Alannah from him before she saw her ruined toy and started crying. "Let me give her a bath then we can do whatever you want." I winked.

"I'll help. Saves time, and besides, I have to see what you and your mom or Daph do for half an hour in the bathroom every night."

"It's a complicated process—washing her."

We headed to our bathroom, and I passed Alannah back to him while I prepared her bassinette.

"I didn't ask. How did it go at the gallery?"

"Great. Mr. Wagner knows someone at Carnegie Museum of Art. They're interested in showing some of my pieces." I beamed at him over my shoulder, before focusing on testing the water. "You can undress her and put her in. I'll bring her diapers, powder, and plastic toys."

He looked positively terrified at the prospect of being alone with her in the bathroom, but also determined to succeed.

When I returned, the first thing I heard was splashing and Brian complaining.

"How hard can it be—" My words died on my lips when I saw the bassinette on the floor, and Brian in the tub with the baby in his arms.

"Why don't you join us? She'll pull at your hair too."

I cleared my throat. "This is crazy."

"Get in here, Sunshine! It's not like she understands."

Sighing, I took my clothes off, then slid at his feet in the tub. Alannah turned to me, holding out her hands, but Brian held her against his chest.

"I'm not letting you go," he growled, making funny faces to her.

The way she tensed up meant a huge crying session was on the way. "Brian," I warned him.

"Nope! You're my prisoner." He squeezed her tightly, kissing her head.

Since Alannah was facing me, I could see tears filling her eyes, and I slid closer. I was tired and if she started wailing, I'd drown in the water below.

Brian turned her around, raising her above his head, as he kept being silly.

"Brian, come on. We have to wash her. I bet she's tired."

"You tired?" He brought her down, giving her a raspberry on her tummy. Instead of the usual giggle, he got a distraught cry and a kick in his shoulder.

"Brian," I hissed.

I wasn't about to wrestle Alannah from his arms like Michael used to do with Mel when JR was little. I had some dignity left.

Alannah kept twisting around in an attempt to ask for my help.

"What, do you want daddy?" Brian made her face me again. He was getting on my nerves too. "See? There he is. But you're stuck with me." He planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

She twisted around with more force than I thought she had, thrusting her little, chubby hands to me, tears swimming in her eyes. "Da-da!"

I froze, my hand mid-air, posed to slap Brian. "Did she just say…"

"Yes, she did!" Brian grinned, hugging and rocking her.

When a loud wail escaped her small body, I straddled Brian's legs, slowly prying Alannah from his arms. "Shh. I'm right here. Don't cry."

She stopped fussing immediately, relaxing against my chest, and sighing loudly. She was probably glad to have escaped Brian's stupid game.

"Aw, has daddy upset you? He can get quite possessive. You'll get used to it." I kissed her nose. "Now, your bath awaits."

"What can I do?" Brian looked helplessly around as I moved to the other end of the tub.

"Hand me the baby shampoo, and stop pouting."

"I just managed to upset a baby. I think I deserve a prize for the most awful parent."

"You got her to say her first word." I grinned. "We need to call Daph and tell her. Maybe you can learn how to say 'mama' by the time we see Daphne. Can you say mama?" I looked seriously at Alannah.

She stared at me confused, sucking her fist into her mouth. Then she patted my chest, smiling widely. "Da-da!"

I returned her smile. "Yes. And Brian's your other dad." I turned her on my knees to face him.

She cocked her head to the side, processing the information probably. She looked between Brian and me a few times, before settling her eyes on Brian. After studying him as if she was seeing him for the first time, she gurgled, clapping loudly.

I pressed my finger to my lips so Brian wouldn't say anything. If she wanted to talk again, it would be on her terms.

"Ma-ma!"

I exploded in laughter, unable to restrain myself.

Brian rolled his lips inside his mouth, probably trying not to burst into laughter as well.

"Not quite," I managed to sputter out. "We're both Dada. Your Mama isn't here. You'll see her tomorrow, don't worry."

"Exactly. I'm Dada!" Brian said seriously. "Do I look like a fucking woman?" He cut his eyes to me.

"Brian, watch that mouth! Now that she's talking, you better be careful."

"Fu…abulous."

"Nice save, asshole."

He flicked my leg. "You watch it, too, Sunshine."

Our banter was cut short by a splash in my face and Alannah laughing.

Once she was in bed, and out for the night, we retreated downstairs.

"Hungry? I'm afraid I didn't have time to make any food, but we have some leftovers from the other day."

"How about we have dessert, Sunshine?"

"With whipped cream?" I batted my eyelashes, bumping his hip as we stepped into the kitchen.

He placed his hand on the back of my neck, tilting my head, before leaning down to kiss me thoroughly. "Only if you include ice cream kisses on the menu."

I pulled away to gape at him. "You remember the most curious things of our past."

"It was a memorable moment." He smirked. "I'll grab the ice cream, you get the whipped cream."

"But I'm actually hungry for…"

"My cock, I know."

"Food!" I said, laughing. "But fine. It all can wait when you offer such a delicious dessert."

Brian nuzzled my nose. "Besides, you can't deny me. It's my birthday."

"I thought you hated your birthday."

"Not when I get to spend it with my favorite people in the world." He grinned, kissing me soundly. "Now, don't keep me hanging." He swatted my ass.

"What? The worst that can happen is people think you're hung."

Brian stared at me blankly, before laughing loudly. "I taught you well, Sunshine."

I beamed, squeezing his cheek. "See you upstairs in five. I want to call Daph and let her know Alannah said her first word."

Brian grabbed the ice cream box, a bowl of strawberries from the fridge and the whipped cream. He had big plans. "I'll be the one on the bed…naked and horny."

I stared after him for a few long seconds, then thought fuck it to calling Daph. I sent her a text message, before abandoning my phone on the table and taking the stairs two at a time.

Brian's POV

The intercom in the conference room buzzed and I picked up the receiver, apologizing to my clients.

"Cynthia. You know better than to disturb me," I whispered.

"Have Rick take over. He's great."

"Sorry?" I couldn't believe what she just said. "Nick," I emphasized the correct name of my new intern, "is not ready for this."

"Justin is here. He looks pretty distressed, Bri."

Fuck. "Is Tiff okay?"

"She's with him, but she's fine. He, on the other hand, doesn't look too good," she said softly.

"All right." I hung up, already standing. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me. A family problem arose. Nick Johnson here is going to finish the presentation." I clapped Nick's shoulder. "Don't fuck it up," I hissed into his ear.

My clients graciously allowed me to go deal with my family problems, understanding the importance of my departure.

I stormed into my office, not paying attention to anyone on my way there.

Tiffany was on the couch, drawing on the ever-present sketchpad Justin carried around. At four years old, she was the most beautiful angel I'd seen in my life.

If someone had told me some years ago I'd end up in a monogamous relationship, let alone married, and with a kid, I'd have sent them to see a shrink. My life had changed irrevocably since I met Justin, especially since I decided to pull my head out of my ass and embrace my feelings for that twat I now called husband.

I stroked her hair, smiling down at her. "Hey, sweet pea. Where's daddy?"

She pointed in the bathroom's direction, not looking up from her drawing.

She was so fucking adorable. She'd inherited her daddy's artistic talent and all the walls in the house were testimony of Tiffany following in Justin's footsteps. No matter how much we told her people painted on paper, she insisted the walls made a better canvas.

I left her to her drawing, as I slipped into the bathroom. My stomach dropped when I saw Justin hunched over the sink, breathing harshly, his hands gripping the edge of the sink. He stiffened when he heard the door, hastily wiping his tears.

"I told you to wait on the sofa, baby." His eyes widened when he turned and saw me. "Brian."

"The fuck happened to you, Sunshine?" I gathered him in my arms, where he sagged, and a small sob escaping him. "You look like you've seen a ghost. A bad one at that."

"Weren't you in a meeting?" He tilted his head to stare at me with tear-filled eyes.

"Fuck it. Tell me about you."

Justin sniffed, tears knotting at his chin before they fell on my shirt, soaking it.

"Sunshine," I insisted, stroking his hair. Shit. It physically hurt to see him crying.

"I went shopping with Alannah," he said after a few long minutes.

"Oookay. How did that cause you a meltdown?"

"She insisted we go buy chocolate. I caved."

"You always do." I kissed his forehead fondly. Just like I do. Just like everyone caves to her big blue eyes.

"There was only one of her favorite left. And then a little boy…" He took a shuddering breath. "Okay, maybe not so little…maybe around eight? Fuck," he spat, scrubbing at his face in a vain attempt to stop the tears.

"Did he do something to our princess?" I had no idea what could have caused him to cry like this.

"He…he…took the chocolate bar. Then he saw her almost in tears and handed it to her, telling her not to cry."

"That's sweet. I wouldn't have done it at his age." I laughed, but stopped when Justin sobbed harder into my chest. "Justin?" I combed a hand through his hair, at a loss at what to do or say.

"Then," he said in an almost hysterical voice. "His dad appeared from around the corner and praised him on his good deed."

"He was proud of his son."

Justin met my eyes, his were still swimming in tears. I hadn't seen him like this in years.

"You'll never guess who he was! I still can't believe it. Can you pinch me?"

"Someone you hate, obviously. Kids don't always turn out like their parents. Best examples are us. You've been telling me that for years." I rubbed his cheek softly. "We're not like our fathers."

"Funny you mentioned Craig. The son of a bitch not only cheated on Mom, then moved in with his mistress after the divorce…he also has a child with her!"

"What?" I gasped, hugging him tighter. It all made sense. "You mean you just saw…"

"Yes! And when he saw me, all he did was pull the boy away from me as if I was infected." He went back to sobbing. "I'm so stupid! I thought he'd say 'Hey, son! Long time, no see," or at the very least, introduce me to my brother. Fuck, Brian. I have a brother who is around eight years old. How fucked up is that?"

"Didn't he say anything to you?"

"No, he steered his son away, but at the corner of the aisle, he turned to look at us, mostly at Alannah. I'm sure he's curious if I decided to be straight, have a real family. Shit. He's probably calling Mom for an explanation."

"You need to calm down. Did you tell Tiff who he was?"

"No. She asked, but I said he was someone I once knew. I can't do this, Brian. I can't. That sack of shit could have at least let us know he had another kid. I'm thirty-one, and I have a little brother, who's eight. He could be my son!"

I realized there was no room to talk sense into him at the moment. He was too distressed and freaking out over this impromptu run-in with his father.

I filled a glass of water and handed it to him. "Don't pass out on me. I'm sure he won't do anything."

"You don't know him. What he saw gave him hope that I'm straight! He'd try contacting me." Justin slumped on the closed toilet seat. "I didn't always hate him, you know? That's why it's hard for me. We were happy once."

"If he chooses to contact you, let me handle him. I've been itching for revenge!"

"No. Please don't. He may treat me like shit, but I know he's good with that kid. All I can hope is that he's straight, so he doesn't have to go through what I did."

I rolled my eyes. He was too good toward that asshole. I sprinkled water over his head, making him eye me questioningly.

"Saint Justin."

"You're a jerk. I'm sorry that Jack was a shitty father to you, but Craig was the model father. He was great. Why the fuck do you think I used to cry for hours after I first moved in with you? The man who used to love me, who I looked up to, hated me and had hurt badly the only man I truly loved. You."

"Still, I say he doesn't deserve your tears. He won't try contacting you, trust me. Now, pull yourself together. I'm going to check if Tiff decided to repaint my office." I winked.

My words extracted a small giggle from Justin. "I used to do that, too," he mumbled.

"I know. Jennifer told me." I scowled, before leaning to kiss him. "No more tears. Give me your Sunshine smile."

He grimaced.

"Close enough. Practice."

I returned into my office to find my princess still on the couch. I sat next to her, catching sight of what had her so focused. It was another one of the sketches Justin made for her to color.

"Hi, Dada!" She grinned, turning the page my way. "Look what Daddy drew for me!"

I gathered her small body in my arms. "It's beautiful. Who is that?" I played dumb as I could clearly tell who was drawn on the paper in front of me. Justin loved to draw me in every form.

"It's you, silly!" Tiff giggled. "But I have a problem," she declared solemnly.

"What's that?" I pushed some of her hair out of her eyes.

If it wasn't for her skin tone, which looked like she had a tan, I wouldn't have known Daphne helped at all. She had also donated some of her genes in Tiffany's curly hair, but everything else was Justin's—her blond hair, her blue eyes, her cute button nose, even her smile.

"I can't find the right color for your eyes," she explained seriously.

"They're brown." I searched through her colored pencils, trying to select a lighter shade of brown.

"They're hazel." Justin's voice came from behind me, making me jump. "It's something between brown and green."

Tiff pouted adorably. "It doesn't exist. I can't get Dada's eyes right!"

"What did I tell you about combining colors? Hazel is not a color on a pen or in a tube of paint, because it's a special color." Justin wrapped his arms around my neck, kissing my deeply. "Just like your dad."

Tiff eyed us thoughtfully. "Can you help me make this color?"

"At home," Justin told her. "Let's pack up. We have to stop by grandma's on the way home."

"Do you think Grandma Debbie has more of these yummy cookies?"

"I hope not," Justin whispered into my ear, chuckling. He kissed me again, before pulling away. "I'll see you at home. Thanks for listening to my drama queen moment."

"That's why I'm here, Sunshine. I'll try be home by dinner time. I need to drop by at Babylon."

"Again?" He hissed, narrowing his eyes at me.

Babylon had been a hot topic all week. "I told you, the mayor is going to send people to search the clubs in town. They'll search extra hard in Babylon, because they hate fags!"

"What about the manager? What's his name?"

"Travis. He's there too, so is Ted. I don't want them to close my baby."

"There was a time when you wanted to sell it. Then I left, and you kept it, even reopened it—all shiny and new." He groaned, throwing the colored pencils in his backpack.

"Justin," I said quietly, aware Tiff could hear us fighting. "I'll be home for dinner."

"I don't keep dinner on the table until two in the morning." He zipped the bag violently. "Give dad a kiss, we're leaving."

I picked Tiff up and she snuggled into my arms, giving me a wet one on the cheek. I returned it with all my love.

Then Justin pried her from my arms, carrying her out the door, without looking back.

The last thing I heard, before the door shut behind them, nearly broke my heart.

"Why were you screaming at Dada?"

Justin's POV

It wasn't enough I had a run-in with my sack of shit father, where I learned I had a younger brother. It still spooked me.

No. That wasn't traumatizing at all.

Brian had to upset me for the sixth night in a row.

He'd been pouring all his time in making Babylon squeaky clean. He couldn't do that. There would always be someone to slip in Crystal or E or Coke or some other shit. There would always be a minor inside the club, using a very accurate fake ID. There would always be a mindless and careless shit to fuck raw in the backroom.

Brian couldn't control everything. But he tried.

All he'd succeeded so far was to get me really angry every night when he arrived home after two in the morning. We fought like crazy each night, and I ended up squeezed beside Alannah, holding her tightly.

When earlier today she asked why I was screaming at her precious dada, I wanted to tell her he was a dickhead. But I didn't, of course. I only said we had a disagreement about him not having dinner with us.

What I didn't expect was her telling Debbie why I was sad when we dropped by the diner. What was worse, I couldn't convince Debbie otherwise.

That way I learned my lesson to never confide in Alannah. She'd spill my secrets.

At home she helped me make dinner, then after her bedtime I sat at the table staring at my empty plate.

He wasn't coming. I knew it. He was at Babylon again.

A part of me feared he was there for more than business, but I knew he wouldn't. It wasn't like I could test my theory. We hadn't fucked since his first night arriving late.

I pulled my phone out with shaky hands.

You going to come home any time soon?

I didn't get a response so I decided to try eat something. I hadn't even eaten properly in the past week, no thanks to Brian's rekindled love for Babylon.

After a shower, I completed the usual nightly routine: pets had water and food, baby girl was asleep and the doors were locked. When I was sure everything was okay, I trudged my way to bed.

And waited.

My eyes kept dropping, but the anger boiling in my veins kept me wide awake. It felt like I was cheated on, but not with a person, with a place. That place was Brian's first love – Babylon.

Brian slipped into our bedroom a little after 3 am.

It was too much. I couldn't keep my cool anymore.

When I got out of the bed, he gasped, not expecting me to be awake.

"Christ, Sunshine."

I pointed to the digital clock on the nightstand. "It's 3:25!"

"You know where I've been," he said defensively, before smiling. "I had a productive night!"

"Ten blow jobs and five fucks before midnight?"

His eyes flashed. "What the fuck?"

"Just tell me if you…" A sob caught in my throat.

"Justin…" Brian moved closer, but I side-stepped him. "I'd never do that to you! It's just business, believe me."

"Well, fuck it! Fuck the fucking business keeping you in that fucking club until this goddamn hour," I yelled. "I can't do this, Brian. I can't sit around for hours like a silly housewife waiting for her wayward husband to return home."

"You're not a—"

"Cut it out! I'm sick of your excuses. You're never home lately! Alannah misses you. She wants you to tell her the bedtime story."

The look on his face nearly broke my resolve, but I had to be strong and spill everything now while I was riding on adrenaline.

"I miss you, Brian." So much for being strong. I could feel tears burning my eyes.

"This is very important to me." He had the nerve to continue our previous subject, instead of answering that he missed me too like a normal person.

"Fuck the club! Is Babylon more important than us?"

"I'll always protect Babylon. It's my business and the place we met. It's special to me."

"You should protect the lamppost and stamp it with Propriety of Brian Kinney," I sneered.

He smirked, but became serious when he realized I wasn't joking in the least.

"Pop quiz." I glared at him, advancing until we were inches apart. "Who do you love more? A: Us. B: Babylon."

He stared at me in disbelief.

When it took too long for him to answer, I knew his choice. "Time's up."

I brushed the angry tears from my eyes as I grabbed the packed bag from inside the closet. It's been there for three days. I'd thrown in some clothes for us, and hoped to never use it.

"Justin," Brian cried, wrapping his arms around me. "Don't do this."

"You decided. It's okay." I slipped out of his embrace. "I knew you always loved that club."

"No. No. NO!"

I had never seen him crying so hard. I wanted to confront him, but his behavior was inexcusable.

I walked out of our bedroom to Alannah—the hardest thing I'd ever done, turning my back to a distressed Brian.

My leaving the room seemed to fuel his panic. "Jus. Please, let's talk." He reached me as I stepped into Alannah's room.

"There's nothing left to talk about." I picked up my sleeping angel, wrapping her in blankets. It would be too much trouble to put a hoodie on her. "Sleep. It's okay," I whispered when she shifted.

"Don't go! Don't take Tiff. Justin, please."

"Brian, when you make your decision, come find me. I can't guarantee I'll talk to you, though." I rearranged Alannah in my arms, squeezing past him and the doorframe. "Besides, you can't even call her by her name—Alannah. It's like we speak of two different people when you keep referring to her as Tiffany. I get it—you hate every choice I make, but that's her name. Everyone uses it."

I left, trying not to listen to his sobs.

Initially, I wanted to go to Mom's, but as a last minute decision, I chose Daphne.

She opened the door bleary eyed. "What the fuck, Justin? Do you know what time… Oh, my God! Why are you crying? Is Brian okay?"

I handed Alannah to her, stepping inside her apartment. I fell on the couch, sobbing into my hands. "I left him," I choked out.

She sat next to me, squeezing Alannah to her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I can't do this. We've been fighting for a week now."

"Jesus Christ, Justin! You're over thirty, not a silly little teenager! You talk about your problems. You don't get to leave if it gets tough."

"Don't tell me what to do! It's not like you're a huge expert at relationships!"

"Ouch. Low blow, Taylor."

"Well, it's the fucking truth. I hope things are good with Mitchell."

"They're great, thank you. I think he's the one." She beamed, kissing Alannah's cheek. "Now, tell me why you left in the middle of the night."

"Because he's an idiot and I'm sick of his pathetic behavior." I took the offered paper tissue, but it didn't help wiping my eyes or blowing my nose. "I never thought we'd ever fight so badly again. Our last terrible fight was when he was sick and he kicked me out for trying to help."

"Really?" She snorted. "What about your drama queen moment when you were buying Ally her crib? Or last year on my birthday, which was the main event—you two shouting at each other over Brian buying a different type of wine than what you told him."

"Are you keeping track of our fights?" I tried not to crack a smile.

Alannah mumbled my name, reaching to me. I picked her up, resting her in my lap. She hugged me tightly, wiping my tears and kissing my cheeks. "Don't cry, Daddy."

Her words shattered my heart. "It's okay, angel. It's going to be okay," I whispered, kissing her forehead.

Daph led us to her bedroom, and since we were both in our pajamas already, we simply slipped into bed.

I tried to stop crying, but it was impossible. The way Alannah stayed snuggled between Daph and me, reminded me of so many nights she'd crawled in bed between Brian and me.

"Justin, calm down. You're going to talk to Brian in the morning."

"He's changed, but then again, he's still the same Brian I fell in love with."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Daphne, he spends all his time at Kinnetik and Babylon. He comes home really late, and wakes really early." I sniffed, running my wrist under my nose. "The other day, I didn't even see him. At all. Let's say I could survive. But Alannah misses him. Fuck, even the fucking cat misses him. She stayed on his side of bed until he got home and then didn't leave his side."

Even though it was dark, I could see something shift in Daphne's eyes. Her grip on our daughter tightened. "You mean he doesn't have time for her?"

I nodded sorrowfully. "For any of us."

"Justin, you have to fix this. When I offered to give you this precious gift, you two were happier and stronger than ever."

"Are you threatening me," I hissed.

"I know why Brian didn't want to take my rights. He regrets giving up his rights over Gus. So don't make me do something I'll regret."

I stared at her in shock. "Alannah is mine, Daphne. You can't take her away!" To make my point, I hugged baby girl closer to me, carefully so not to wake her.

"Don't make me be a bitch, Justin. The law favors the mother, not the gay couple with relationship issues."

"Who the fuck are you and what have you done to my best friend?" I spat. "I came here hoping to find solace in my best friend. All I found is this…"

"Say it." She narrowed her eyes.

"No." I sighed heavily, taking a shuddering breath. "Do you happen have some Xanax? I want to sleep."

"Are you going to talk to Brian?"

"Yeah. It's on my To Do list for tomorrow."

Daphne brought me a couple little pills and a glass of water. "I didn't mean what I said. I'd never take Alannah from you. But please, talk to Brian. I'll spend this Saturday with my daughter. You can have my apartment to yourselves." She stroked my cheek.

"Thanks, Daph."

The Xanax did its job. I hadn't slept so well in days.

The smell of coffee pulled me from my slumber.

I smiled, stretching, only to remember I wasn't at home. I was at Daph's. She made me coffee in bed, not Brian.

Unwilling to face the day, I opened my eyes to see someone who wasn't supposed to be there. I must still be asleep. Two Xanax was too much for me.

Brian was sitting at my side, holding a steaming mug. He looked like he hadn't slept all night. His eyes were blood-shot, there was a dust of hair across his jaw, and his hair had seen better days. It was all my fault.

He wasn't even looking at me, keeping his eyes fastened to the coffee in his hands, as if it held all the answers regarding our marital problems.

I touched his knee, caressing the spot with my thumb.

His eyes shot up, meeting mine. "You're awake," he whispered in a rough voice.

"Bri—"

He pressed a finger to my lips, shaking his head. "Here." He handed me the mug.

I propped myself up against the headboard, took the offered mug, smiling gratefully.

"Let me talk. I made a huge mistake, Justin."

I nodded for him to continue. It was a huge step for Brian to initiate a conversation about feelings.

"I fucked up royally. All I can hope is that you'll try to forgive me. Again. I screwed up so many times, I lost count."

"You're not alone in this. I had my fair share of slip-ups."

Brian played with his wedding band, spinning it on his finger. "You know how I get when I want something to be right."

I nodded, smiling, because sure, I knew how passionate he was.

"That's what happened with Babylon. I got carried away. I'm sure you don't care, but last night I got home so late because the cops dropped by unannounced."

"Shit, Brian." I was such an asshole.

"They were impressed to find a club such as Babylon with nothing out of place. Even the glitter fell superbly from the sky."

"Thank God. I'm glad they didn't close it."

He gave me a skeptical look. "It nearly cost me everything. Fuck, Justin. I thought I'd die when I saw your bag." He grabbed my hand, squeezing, as tears pooled in his eyes. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Mhmmm." I slurped from my coffee. "You make awesome coffee. I love it when you bring it to me in bed on those rare, quiet, child-sleeping-in-her-own-bed mornings."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"It's a, 'you need to work overtime and grovel for forgiveness to both of us'!"

"I plan on starting as soon as possible. Breakfast at the diner and…" He cleared his throat. "…Alannah can have her grandma's special pancakes. Then Daphne promised to entertain her for the rest of the day…and possibly all night too."

"Sounds good to me. One request, though." I held one finger up.

"Anything, Sunshine."

"You're taking me dancing tonight. Like the good, old days. I haven't been to Babylon in ages for its actual purpose."

"Yeah, you and me both." He chuckled. "Deal. Pull out your dancing shoes, dust off your club clothes, 'cause we're going to melt the dancefloor tonight, mon amour."

I giggled, nudging him with my knee. "Come here, you crazy man." I patted the spot next to me. "I love you, you big idiot!"

He nudged my nose, smiling. "Love you too, Sunshine."

Our lips met in a hungry kiss, to make up for a week of pent up sexual frustration.

We were pulled apart by the human bullet landing on the bed between us. "Hi!" Alannah grinned at us.

"I tried to keep her away." Daphne appeared in the doorway, panting. "I see the storm is over."

"Join us." Brian waved Daph closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders when she sat next to him. "Thanks." He kissed her cheek soundly, making her blush.

"I did it for Justin."

I should have known she had something to do with Brian being here, but I couldn't be upset.

"Admit it, you'd have missed me too much if we…if something happened."

"How could I go on without seeing the face of God?" She asked dramatically, rolling her eyes.

I choked on my gulp of coffee. "DAPHNE!"

"Do tell me. What has Sunshine been telling you?"

Before I could smother her with a pillow, she spilled my deepest secret. "That's the way he referred to you after your first night together. He was all 'I saw the face of God, and his name is Brian Kinney' and I was too confused to actually process his words."

"Well, Dada has a really pretty face."

I gaped at Alannah, feeling my own face burning in embarrassment.

Brian caught my eye before bursting out in laughter, then he brought Alannah to his chest, kissing her soundly.

Brian's POV

"Can we go home now?" Tiffany whined from her spot on the couch in my office at Kinnetik.

My eyes went to the clock in the corner of my desktop. Fuck. It was seven already.

I still had a shitload to do, but Justin was away with his little artiste adventures. I was stuck with Tiff out of school for Christmas break, Kinnetik problems, and the end of the month and year.

"Five more minutes, Princess. Let me send this important email."

"I'm booooored!" She sighed heavily. "Can't you do this from home?"

"No." I refused to bring homework to Britin. "Why don't you go to Cynthia? She'll find something fun for you until I'm done."

Tiff gave me a disbelieving look, perfected from spending all her time with Justin, then shuffled out of my office.

In the end, it took me a total of seven minutes to send the email I was working on and make notes for an important call I had to make the next morning.

I gathered our stuff, which took about ten minutes to track all her toys and books and pack them.

I found Tiff in Cynthia's office, discussing something seriously. They stopped talking when they saw me in the doorway. Awesome, she was whining to Cynthia about me being a shitty dad.

"I'm done, sweetie. We can go home."

She refused to look at me, meaning she was upset I hadn't given her much attention in the past couple of days since Justin left to his show in sunny California.

"Tiff, come on. We can stop by Nana's and ask her for your favorite food."

Cynthia rolled her eyes, coming closer. "Listen, Brian, she's past the age where you can bribe her with food."

"What do you want me to do? Split myself in half?"

"You need to spend some alone time with her. You know…father-daughter time. She really misses Justin."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled. I missed him more than I thought possible. "I don't do anything right. They have their own little rituals."

"How about I make you a deal? Don't come tomorrow. Stay home with Tiffany. Or take her out. Just be with her—alone. Kinnetik can survive one day without you."

I pondered on her words. Cynthia always had good advice for me.

"Go! Spend some quality time with your daughter," she urged.

"Fine. Okay." I went to Tiff and picked her up, despite the fact that I'd been told not to lift anything heavy.

My baby girl definitely fell under the category of heavy, but I loved holding her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and arms around my neck, pressing her cheek to the top of my head.

"Can you hold my briefcase and your backpack?" I asked, kissing her forehead.

"Sure, Dada."

Bidding goodbye to a smiling Cynthia, we went outside to the car.

"Can I stay shotgun?"

I rolled my lips inside my mouth, considering the implications of allowing a nine year old in the passenger seat. Her pouty lips and doe eyes made up my mind.

"Ground rules. You aren't to mention this to daddy, or anyone else for that matter. And it's only until we reach Nana's house."

"Okay. I won't tell anyone. It will be out little secret, like the chocolate you gave me last night." She grinned.

The chocolate had been a mistake, a HUGE one. She didn't fall asleep until after midnight, and it had been hell to wake her this morning.

On the way to Debbie's, I let her know about my plan on spending tomorrow together. Her excitement was contagious, and we were both in a bright mood when we rang Debbie's bell.

She answered promptly, gathering Tiff in a tight hug, steering her inside, throwing me a "Hey, kiddo," over her shoulder.

"It's always a pleasure to visit, Deb. I see I fell to second position as your favorite person," I feigned hurt.

"Try fifth or sixth. It's hard to keep track of your free falling." She laughed.

"What? Who replaced me?" I demanded, seriously curious and confused.

"Well, no matter what he'll do, Michael will always be my number one. He's my son."

"Okay, believable," I mumbled.

"Second place is a close call between this little princess and JR and Gus. My grandkids. Then, another tough call between my sons in law."

"You mean son-in-law. Singular. You only have Mikey, or did you keep a secret all these years?" I went closer, touching Tiff's shoulder. "Why don't you run to the bathroom? You said in the car you needed to go. We won't be home for another hour in this terrible traffic."

"Oh, right." She rushed to the downstairs bathroom, leaving us laughing.

I caught Debbie's eye. "You were saying about me not being your favorite person in the world, and having a second son no one knows of."

"The other son-in-law is Sunshine. You're like my kid too, Brian. I thought you knew that." She patted my cheek lovingly.

"Oh, then why isn't it a tough call for the first position? Between Mikey and me."

"Because, sometimes, you are an asshole."

"Me, an asshole? You must have me confused with someone else," I said seriously.

"Oh, Brian. But if you weren't an asshole, you wouldn't be you." She pinched my cheek.

I sighed loudly. "I don't know about asshole, but I'm a horrible dad. If Justin knew I barely had time for Tiff, he'd cut off my one real remaining ball."

Debbie squeezed my arm. "Do you need help? I offered my babysitting services. Look how well Michael and Sunshine turned out."

I laughed, surprised she included Justin too.

Damn, I missed him. He'd left late at night on Tuesday, and we spoke on the phone only once, but exchanged a few emails.

"Thanks, Deb. I think I can do it. You'll be the first I call if I need help. Anyway, I plan on staying at home tomorrow, which means I need your pancake recipe."

"I'll write it down for you. Try not to set the house on fire."

"We're here to steal some dinner, too."

Tiff returned in time to help me pack the food Debbie had for us, while Debbie wrote me the recipe for pancakes. If I got them right, I'd like a golden star in my Best Daddy yearbook.

After we said goodbye and got back in the car, Tiff went in the backseat without any complaints.

I handed her my phone to keep her entertained. When we had about ten more minutes until we reached Britin, she tapped my shoulder.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"You have a new text message from Daddy."

"Why don't you read it to me?"

If I only knew what a mistake I made. A few minutes passed in silence, then…

"Why does Daddy want your duck up his ass? Do you think he's drunk? You don't have a duck, do you?"

Holy shit. He must have typed dick wrong.

"Oh, look! Another text!" There was a long pause, in which I prayed Justin hadn't written obscenities to me. "Okay, so the duck makes more sense. What is dick, Dada?"

Fuck you, Justin. I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck.

Shit. But it was actually my fault. I gave her my phone.

"Dada?" Tiff's small voice grabbed my attention.

"Uh, yeah? Look, we're home." I tried placating her.

"What does Daddy mean?" Of course, Justin's stubborn genes were inherited by Tiffany.

"No idea. You're right. He might be drunk after his show was a success."

I led the way inside the house with her trailing behind me. While I heated the food, I didn't pay much attention to Tiff. It proved what a shitty dad I was.

Until I placed the plates on the table and found her still fiddling with my phone. "That's enough, young lady. Go wash your hands." I made to grab my phone, but she turned away, shielding it.

"Wait. I'm talking to Daddy. He's not making sense. He said a lot of bad words."

I could feel the blood draining from my head. "Tiffany!" I knew how dirty Justin could get. She didn't. She shouldn't. Ever.

Just then, the phone rang. Before I could reach it, Tiff answered. Her wide eyes found mine, and I could bet good money Justin said something kinky, which she didn't understand.

"Are you really drunk, Daddy," she inquired loudly.

"Give me the phone!" This time I didn't wait. I lunged over the table and snatched it from her hand. "Eat." I pointed to her plate. "All the green, too." I focused on the phone call as I left the kitchen. "Justin, she had the phone all along. I was driving. Now we're home. I had no idea what she was doing."

I heard him inhaling sharply. "Holy shit! Do you realize what I wrote to you? Oh, my God!"

"Don't worry. She didn't understand."

"Kill me now. I just had a dirty conversation with my daughter," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"You couldn't know it wasn't me. What did you say just now, when you called?"

"She kept asking what I meant and asking if I was drunk. I thought you were just being stupid. And now…I said, 'Playing hard to get, hot stuff?'"

"I'm sure she'll forget about it. Besides, why would you sex-text me at eight in the evening?"

"It's ten here! Fucking time zone!"

"Aw, widdle Sunshine is embarrassed," I teased.

"I'm fucking mortified. I can't look her in the eye, now."

"Don't be a twat. I'm going to see if she's eating. Then I'll call you for phone sex."

"You're not getting any! Tell Tiff her dad is an idiot, and for a change, that would be me."

"Trying to even the score?"

He laughed in response, before we hung up.

In the kitchen, I found Tiff feeding Cupcake from her plate, with her fork.

"Alannah!" I snapped, making her jump. She knew she was in deep shit with me when I used that name.

Of course, she tried to smile her way out of trouble.

"What have we talked about feeding the dog human food? Especially with your fork—the one you will put in your mouth!"

"Sorry," she mumbled, staring dejectedly into her plate.

"If you're giving Cupcake your food, it means you're no longer hungry."

"Only for dessert."

"You don't get dessert when you misbehave. Come on. Bath time, then sleep."

Her wide, wet, blue eyes turned to stare at me in disbelief.

Fuck. Don't use that look on me, kid.

She'd perfected the guilt-tripping look from Justin.

I did my best not to cave. What she'd done was really bad, but then again, I hadn't been a poster dad these past few days.

Sighing, I walked over and put my hand on her shoulder. "How about I make you a deal?"

Tiff kept her charm on, flashing me a bright smile.

"If you're a good girl and listen to me, I'll make you pancakes in the morning."

"But I don't want pancakes in the morning!"

"Then, anything else you want," I averted.

She stomped her foot down. "I want the dessert now!"

"Tiff, it's your bedtime. Come on. Later tomorrow, we'll do something special for daddy. He's coming back on Sunday."

"Is Daddy okay?" She remembered about the odd texting.

"Yes. He's really tired, thus the odd messages. Now, do you want me to call daddy and tell him what a naughty girl you are? He won't bring you anything if you don't listen to me."

"I don't believe you. Daddy always brings me pretty stuff from his trips!"

I knuckled my forehead.

God help me. She'd inherited his bratty nature too. I was too tired to deal with this shit.

"Tiffany," I said slowly. "Are you done eating?" She nodded. "Good." I picked her up, carrying her upstairs. "Let's watch a movie. Then you can sleep with me."

"Really? Cool!" She kissed my cheek soundly and wetly.

"We just need your jammies."

"Can I wear a shirt from Daddy?"

"Of course, sweetie. I have an idea. How about we wear something from Justin, take a picture, and send it to him? To show him how much we miss him."

She nodded, excitedly.

In our room, I let her select whatever shirt she wanted of Justin's, while I shrugged into the paint-smudged shirt he usually wore in the attic. It smelled like him and it brought lesbianic feelings out of me, which I refused to indulge.

We settled on the bed and I took a few pictures, then put a movie in the laptop, settling against the headboard.

While Tiff was captivated by the Disney movie, I sent Justin the photos via email from my phone.

To: Justin Taylor

From: Brian Kinney

Subject: Missing you

See the attached pictures =)

Brian

"That was so funny! Why aren't you laughing," Tiff demanded.

"Uh, sorry. I'll pay better attention." I stared blankly at the movie, not understanding much. It was one of these silly movies she loved, and I hated.

My phone pinged, distracting me from her movie.

To: Brian Kinney

From Justin Taylor

Subject: RE: Missing you

You're precious. Miss you guys too!

Is Alannah asleep?

Horny as hell.

Yours truly, JT

I chuckled, hitting reply.

To: Justin Taylor

From: Brian Kinney

Subject: RE: Missing you

Nope. We're watching a movie. I mean…she is. I'm talking to my husband. =P

How horny?

Brian

To: Brian Kinney

From JT

Subject: Naughty

*gasp* Your husband?

– Note the change in my email name –

I couldn't help but burst out laughing. My silly twat.

"Dada, there's nothing funny now."

I glanced at the screen, then at Tiffany, watching me confused.

"Uh… Just talking to your dad. Don't mind me."

"Oh, can I talk to him too?"

"Watch your movie, then sleep time. You'll talk to him in the morning." I rubbed her back, before dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Thankfully, she accepted my excuse to keep Justin all to myself.

To: Brian Kinney

From JT

Subject: Naughty

Don't you like me anymore?

Since when is your husband enough?

To: Brian Kinney

From JT

Subject: Naughty

Lover, why aren't you answering?

To: Brian Kinney

From Justin Taylor

Subject: Brian?

Too much? I'm sorry! Forget I said anything.

Especially when you have our daughter next to you,

I'm such a shit.

Your twat.

To: Justin Taylor

From Brian Kinney

Subject: RE: Brian?

I'm not upset, you twat!

I was convincing Tiff you can't talk to her now.

What are you wearing? (Now, who's sick)

Brian

To: Brian Kinney

From Justin Taylor

Subject: Kinky

I'm down to my boxers. It's so fucking hot in here!

When do you think baby girl is going to sleep? You didn't feed her any chocolate, I hope.

I miss you, Bri…

I sighed, torn between sending Tiff to her room and keeping her with me. If she stayed, I couldn't indulge Justin.

Looking over at her nestled form on Justin's side of the bed, I realized she was already asleep; the movie long forgotten.

To: Justin Taylor

From Brian Kinney

Subject: RE: Kinky

She's asleep next to me.

The other night's phone sex has to last you until you come home.

And NO, I didn't give her chocolate! What kind of moron do you think I am?

I'm hurt, Sunshine.

Brian

He didn't need to know about my slip with chocolate after bedtime the prior night.

His reply came thirty minutes later.

To: Brian Kinney

From Justin Taylor

Subject: SHIT

Sorry. I zoinked out. I'm more tired than I thought.

I'll let you sleep too.

Lots of love,

Justin

oOo

In the morning I woke up first and set to work on the promised pancakes.

The first batch wasn't fluid enough, and I had to redo it with the right quantities of flour and cream. Justin always told me to make sure to use the correct number.

The second batch burnt when I got distracted by taking Cupcake out.

The third batch ended up on the floor when I tried to flip them in the pan.

I was slowly growing annoyed at my own inability to do something so simple. Justin made pancakes almost every day and he never had trouble.

By the time Tiffany appeared in the kitchen, I had five pancakes done, and was extremely proud of myself.

"Morning, Dada!" She grinned, through a huge yawn.

"Morning, sweetie. Here are your pancakes. They're still warm, so be careful."

She took her seat at the table, looking around curiously. "Do we have strawberries?"

"Jam or fresh?"

"Fresh. And chocolate syrup."

I gave her the bottle of syrup, before taking a few strawberries from the fridge. I was about to put them on her plate, when she rolled her eyes.

"Cut them," she instructed, making me realize it was a tradition.

I carefully sliced the small fruits, but when the landline phone rang loudly, my knife slipped.

"Jesus! Fuck!"

I quickly stuck my injured finger in my mouth, then snatched the receiver off the wall.

"Hello," I snapped, not caring who was on the other end. Probably Debbie, since she called the landline more often than anyone else.

"At last! Where's your cellphone?" Justin chided me. "I've been calling for the past fifteen minutes."

"It's upstairs. What do you want?" My finger hurt like a motherfucker. Upon a close inspection, I saw I'd managed to part myself of the pad my index finger. Blood was pouring as I stared at the piece of skin dangling off my finger.

"I'm coming early. Do you think you can have someone watch Tiff for us? I land around six this evening."

"An overnight thing?" I asked, aware Tiff was paying close attention.

"Nah, I miss her too much. Only a short while so you can get me from the airport and maybe…"

"A quickie in the backseat like the good ol' days?" I supplied, laughing.

"We never had a quickie in the backseat."

I laughed even harder. "Sure. I have to go now. I had a little accident."

"What happened," he demanded, worried.

"I only sliced my finger."

"What? Brian—"

"Here. Talk to Tiff." I handed her the phone, while I went to take care of my injured finger.

I couldn't wait to have Justin back. Besides missing him like crazy, he was much better at the daddy thing than me.

Justin's POV

The airport was crowded as usual, but it wasn't difficult to spot my husband.

Somehow, Brian managed to stand out, even though he was dressed casually in a dark trench coat, jeans, and boots. It didn't matter they cost more than a few of my paintings combined; it was him. His beauty made him stand out in the crowded airport.

When he spotted me, his smile lit up the room.

I hurriedly covered the last few feet between us, before throwing myself into his arms, hugging him tightly, inhaling his scent, and kissing all over his cold face.

"I missed you," I whispered, taking his face in my hands and kissing him on the mouth. "Love you."

Brian chuckled, stroking my hair. "I missed you too, you twat. Now, can you climb down?"

Laughing nervously, I let my feet slide to the ground, but I didn't go too far. I kept my arms around his neck and face pressed to his shoulder. "Next time I have to go for longer than two days, you're coming with me."

"What about Tiff?"

"We'll take her with us, and if she has school, well…consider our trip a little break—just the two of us."

"It's a plan." He stroked my cheek. "Let's go. We have tonight for ourselves. Daphne offered to keep Tiff over."

I missed my baby girl lots, but a night alone with Brian didn't sound bad at all. "Have I mentioned lately how much I love Daph?"

"We need to buy her something nice for Christmas," Brian agreed.

With our arms wrapped around each other, we walked outside the airport and to the car.

"Hey! You drove my car," I complained.

"It was closer to the door."

"Yeah, right."

I knew how much he liked the Jag. But it was mine and I was very territorial when it came to my car.

On the way home, I let him drive, because I was tired and it was the last time Brian was touching my car. I even let him know that, so it wouldn't come as a shock next time I slapped his hand when he reached for my car's keys.

"Really?" He smirked, catching my eye. "What happened to what's mine is now ours? Or some shit like that."

"Do you realize the Jag is my first car? Weren't you protective of your first car?"

"Shit. I never thought at it this way."

"Yeah, well…" I shrugged.

"How should I apologize to you?" Brian's right hand squeezed the inside of my thigh.

"First, don't crash the car! Second, a blow job would be nice."

"Would be nice," he repeated in disbelief.

"I missed you. I don't even know what part of you I want first."

"I'll make it simple for you. We'll play a game." His hand touched my dick, squeezing. "Think at it this way. Cock is Tab A, ass is Tab B, and mouth is Tab C."

"Aren't you smart?" I laughed, battling his hand away from my dick.

"I have my moments. So, what would it be?"

I pretended to think hard, then leaned closer, pressing my lips to his ear. "My Tab A in your Tab B."

"Excellent choice." He stole a quick kiss.

I pulled away, gaping at him. Did he just agree to be my bottom boy tonight?

A moment later, Brian gasped, shooting me a dirty look. That's more like it. "I take my words back."

"You can't. You said it was an excellent choice," I teased.

"I figured out too late what you said. You distracted me with your hot, breathy voice in my ear."

I laughed loudly, as he kept pouting. "My hot, breathy voice? You mean like this?" I leaned closer again, kissing along his jaw. "I was so horny last night. I guess it's for the best we didn't do it over the phone. In person is so much better."

"Justin," he warned through clenched teeth, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "We'll be home soon."

"I think you need a blow job first. You know, to last longer when we get home. I have so many plans for you."

His attempt at battling my wandering hands was lost when I grabbed his dick though his jeans. When I crouched over his lap, opening his pants, he shifted in a better position, groaning when my tongue made contact with the hard-on he was sporting.

By the time we reached Britin, we were both ready for the big reunion.

After parking in front of the garage, we rushed inside. I slammed the front door shut with my foot while I tugged at Brian's coat. He was busy punching the alarm code in between hungry kisses.

He had a hand inside my pants, rubbing my dick when a noise from behind me, grabbed our attention.

We turned to see what was going on. I was half expecting Cupcake to attack me with licks. Sadly, that wasn't the case.

Alannah stood midway down the stairs, watching us with huge eyes. Could I do any more damage to her? First I sextext her, then I nearly fuck in front of her.

"Shit." And I talked dirty too much around her. "You said she was at Daph's," I hissed to Brian, pulling his hand out of my pants.

"She was," he replied, never tearing his eyes off our daughter.

"Well, she's not." I pointed to her. "See? She's right there. In our home!"

Alannah groaned in protest. "Uh, guys! I'm right here! Stop talking about me as if I couldn't hear." She came down the stairs, explaining that Daphne and Mitchell had to go to work, 'cuz being a doctor was a 24 hours job. "…and so they brought me back here."

"Awesome." Brian groaned in a way he usually did when we were interrupted from fucking.

I was the only one functioning, apparently. "You mean you've been alone…for how long?"

"An hour. Tops. It's okay. I was fine. I made popcorn and watched TV," she hurried to explain when I gasped.

I turned to Brian, who still looked devastated we weren't going to fuck any time soon. "Brian, do you see the problem here? Snap the fuck out of it!" I narrowed my eyes, when he kept looking like his favorite toy was taken away from him. "Daphne left our daughter alone for over an hour! Do you think that's responsible behavior? She could have driven her to my mom's or Debbie's!"

"We'll talk to Daphne in the morning," he said mechanically. "Until then… Why don't you give daddy a big kiss and a hug? I'll take his suitcase upstairs."

Translation: Keep her entertained while I jack off.

Alannah rushed into my arms. I hugged her tightly, inhaling her scent.

"Missed you so much, baby," I murmured in her hair.

"Me too, Daddy!" She burrowed closer.

I picked my shoulder bag, which Brian hadn't taken, thankfully, and steered Alannah to the living room. "Brian, if you're not here in ten seconds, you don't get your present," I called upstairs.

"Coming!" He shouted, making me wonder what hidden meaning that word had.

I sat on the sofa with my baby girl on my lap, who was bouncing in excitement. I only got as far as to pull the zipper open from my bag when Brian appeared in the doorway, looking flushed and rumpled. His shirt was still half untucked, the top button of his jeans popped open, and his hair tousled.

Seriously, he didn't have any sense of decency.

I patted the spot next to me, smiling.

"What did you get us?" Alannah demanded, impatiently.

Brian took his seat, pulling us closer and kissing my neck. "Yes, what did you get us? We've been really good."

I extracted Alannah's present first, handing it to her. "Here you go, angel."

She grabbed the present bag from me, turning it upside down over the coffee table, squealing at the sight of the contents. She jumped on me, kissing my cheeks until I was sure I wouldn't need to wash for a while.

"Thank you! Thank you! You're the best, Daddy!"

"What did you get, sweetie?" Brian frowned, confused at her reaction.

"Pink seashell jewelry!"

"Let's put them on," I suggested, elbowing him in the ribs when he snickered.

She's wanted these for months after seeing the commercial on TV. I couldn't find anything similar in Pittsburgh or New York, but thank God L.A. had them.

"What about me?" Brian whined.

I finished fastening the bracelet on Alannah's wrist, before she rushed off to admire herself in the mirror, wearing the whole set: earrings, necklace, and bracelet.

"So?" Brian raised an eyebrow, kissing my cheek.

"This. You must laugh or the two bucks I spent on it would go to waste." I handed him a framed picture that said: What's long and hard on a black man? The answer being written below in small letters: First grade.

Brian burst out laughing, the couch shaking under us. "You know how I love puns! Thanks, Sunshine."

"It must go on your desk."

"It will." He kissed me soundly.

Brian's POV

I made a personal effort to get home before seven, even though I was in over my head at work. But it was our anniversary and I had a distinct feeling Justin's forgotten about it.

He'd been a complete mess since Tiffany left for college two weeks ago.

I let myself in our house, quietly closing the door.

He wasn't downstairs, so I knew I'd find him most likely in front of the TV watching the graduation ceremony again.

Not disappointing, I found him curled up on the sofa in the entertainment room, eating ice cream and watching something that didn't sound like Tiffany's graduation.

I advanced, sitting next to him and thrusting the bottle of champagne in his face. "Happy anniversary, Sunshine!"

He put whatever he was watching on pause and turned to gape at me. "Fuck."

"We can fuck, sure."

"Holy fuck!" He covered his face with his hands. "I'm the worst husband on the planet."

"It happens to the best of us." I popped the cork open, handing the bottle to him. "Drink up! I was too lazy to grab glasses on the way up."

He laughed, taking a healthy gulp, before pushing it to me. "I promise to make you whatever you want."

"You're not making anything. I made reservations to the new top class restaurant downtown. We're going tomorrow," I explained. "So what are we watching?" I turned my attention to the TV set.

The image was all blurry having been stopped in movement.

"You wouldn't believe what I found. I just started it, like two minutes ago. Let me unwind. It's funny as hell."

"The new comedy you've been bugging me to watch? No thanks."

"It's better than that! It's our bachelor party at Babylon."

"So you were close enough to discovering our anniversary is today."

"Shut up, Brian. I already feel like shit. I always figured you'd be the one forgetting."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'm touched." I kissed his cheek soundly.

Justin started the DVD from the beginning, snuggling into my side.

"Why are people here?" Brian moaned as he looked around the crowded club.

"It's a club, Brian," Emmett explained patiently.

"I'm aware. I own it. You should have shut it down for the night, Theodore," Brian hissed, narrowing his eyes at Ted.

"We thought it would be more fun like this," he answered.

"Well, you thought wrong. I'm not a people person."

"Could have fooled us." Michael joked, chuckling. "All these years spent in the backroom…"

"Fuck. You."

Emmett reappeared on the screen with two glasses containing colored drinks.

Justin reached for one without blinking, downing it.

Brian scowled, demanding a real man drink, like whiskey. After having his drink of choice and downing it in a few gulps, he took Justin to the dance floor.

There were a few shots of the crowd dancing, Justin and Brian kissing in a way that should be illegal, before the little movie showed Brian on a go-go boy stand.

"We must burn this shit," I muttered.

"It looks hot."

"You still don't remember?"

"Some of it. We now know why. Emmett slipped something into my last glass before this part. Did you see that?"

"Yeah. It looked like a couple pills to me. Definitely not E," I said thoughtfully. "Oh, fuck. Look at me." I stared in disbelief at the screen.

Joe Cocker's song was playing in the background as Brian slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Justin shouted to take it off, and Brian ripped the rest of the buttons as he tore his shirt off, throwing it to Justin.

Justin caught it mid-air, hugging it, and smiling.

Brian danced in a slutty way, accepting a small bottle of body oil from someone in the crowd and coating his chest in it.

As the song changed to Pony by Ginuwine, his movements turned more graphic. He grabbed his crotch, thrusting toward Justin who was standing at the bottom of the stand. Justin lifted himself on his hands, pulling Brian's zipper with his teeth getting cheers from the crowd. Brian opened his jeans, moaning loudly, throwing his head back when Justin buried his face into Brian's crotch.

Justin crawled on the stand, peeling Brian's jeans off him, before palming his ass, biting and licking at his legs.

Brian grabbed Justin's head, keeping him still as he thrust his clothed erection into his face. He looked around at the hungry, horny queers watching them, grinning widely.

"Oh, my God!" Justin hid his face into my shoulder. "Did we really do this?"

I stared in horror at the way I'd thrown Justin over my shoulder like a cave-man before making my way through the cheering crowd to the backroom, where I could clearly remember fucking the daylight out of him. Twice.

"Is it over," he mumbled.

"Yeah. It continues with the next day, saying dot dot dot on a black background." I laughed.

He picked his head from my shoulder, glancing at the TV.

Michael's face appeared on the screen. "They're remarkably sober. But with their practice, we shouldn't be surprised."

"Why is he talking like that? You don't suppose they gave this DVD to other people, do you?" I frowned.

"Of course they did." Justin drank from the bottle. "You promised to take me to Australia. I think we should make it more permanent."

"Why haven't we watched this before? Ugh. Do you realize they must have watched it a hundred times over the years, laughing at us."

"Exactly why I want to move away. Now we know how embarrassing our bachelor party was."

"I have a cheaper solution. Destroy the evidence."

"And kill Michael and Ben."

"And everyone else who'd seen this incriminating video."

"Ugh! I haven't been so embarrassed in my life, Brian!"

"You? I'm the one who stripped in front of the whole gay population of Pittsburgh! No wonder they eyed me curiously for months to come."

He giggled. "If everything fails, you'd make an awesome go-go boy. I had nothing on you, hubby!" He kissed me softly.

"Don't call me that! I'll leave the ass shaking for money to you."

"I earned more money in that period than ever before."

I glanced at him. "Well, the new owner of Babylon might be persuaded into giving such a sought after position to a more mature man, not only to twinks. Not like you can pass as anything other than a twink."

He beamed. "I still got the looks."

I snuck my hand in the front of his pants. "And I still got the touch, Sunshine."

Justin straddled my legs, licking and sucking ta my neck. "How about you show me? Like the first time. All night long."

I pressed my lips to his ear. "I want to fuck you all night."

Justin trembled in my arm, moaning and rubbing against my hard dick. "Fuck me."

With one last look at the TV set where our wedding was in full swing, I took Justin's hand, pulling him to our room.

"I'm going to give you better than our first time," I promised.

"Is that so?"

"Trust me."

In our room, I decided to reenact everything from our first night together. I advanced to the bed, and since Justin hovered in the doorway, I glanced to him, smirking.

"Shut the door."

He grinned, closing the door, before turning to face me eagerly.

I rummaged through my locked drawer in the nightstand coming up with a bag of small pills. We rarely used them anymore, only when we went out dancing. "Do you like Special K?"

Justin gulped thickly. "I'm really allergic to a lot of stuff."

"Don't mess up your lines, Sunshine. You said it was alright. Remember?"

"Fuck what I said that night."

"Aw! Where's the fun in you reminding me about what you like to do? Still like to play Tomb Raider?"

"Brian, I'm going to strangle you!"

"Details," I said jokingly, popping a small pill in my mouth. He walked on shaky legs to me, then kissed me hungrily, stealing the pill with a swipe of his tongue. "Hey! Naughty Sunshine," I chided him lightly.

He pressed into me, pushing his clad erection into mine. "I know I didn't do this the first time, but I want to apologize for what a twat I am. I still can't believe if forgot about our anniversary." Without further unnecessary apologies, he fell to his knees, opening my slacks and pulling my dick out, then with a blinding smile, he engulfed me in his mouth.

I'd never get used to be deep-throated by him. It was his special skill. He choked on me, and I knew he was pushing himself, because the boy didn't have a gag- reflex. I tried to pull him away, but he insisted to keep his nose buried into my groin; then he sat back obediently, allowing me to fuck his mouth the way I loved.

Justin didn't relent until I spilled down his throat.

He helped me out of my clothes while I came back to Earth from one of my best orgasms. He was already naked by the time he pushed me on the bed, straddling my lap.

"I want on top," he demanded.

"Maybe later," I tried to talk sense into him. Even though I'd experienced a life-altering release, I was still half-hard and I wanted to take advantage of it.

Justin rolled his eyes, grabbing the lube from under my pillow. "I meant, bottom from the top. It's been a while."

"I'm not objecting."

"Why would you, old man?"

He twisted my left nipple, making me shout and slap his ass.

"Watch out the old man jokes, you little shit!"

"Touchy, touchy, grandpa," Justin teased, leaning to peck my lips.

"I'm going to turn you behind red. You won't be able to sit for a week."

"Empty threats, grandpa."

Faster than he could react, I twisted his body so he was draped over my lap. "Count them, Sunshine."

"Are you for real? Are you going to spank me?" He squirmed in my arms.

"You're asking for it," I reminded him. "Now, be a good boy and take it like a man."

"That makes no sense. Ouch!" Justin tensed, jumping a little when the first slap made contact with his white ass.

"What was that?"

"One."

A few slaps later, his ass was turning a glorious pink and my palm was aching. "Now, where were you?" I helped him roll on the bed next to me.

"I'm out of practice for our silly games. Fuck, this hurts, Brian."

"My bad. I've been slacking in being a good husband."

Justin pouted, lounging on his stomach. "I promise to return it tenfold."

"Until then, stay like that." I pulled him up on his knees, soothing a hand over his flaming ass, before slowly inserting a finger past the first ring of muscles.

Not the most obedient of all, Justin twisted around, straddling my lap and wrapping his legs around my waist. The move brought him impossibly closer and a little shifting later, he guided my dick up his ass.

I could never tire of watching his face while sliding inside him for the first time. He threw his head back, mouth slightly open, and ecstasy shining from his every pore.

I held him close, maintaining our position. We rarely tried this because it was too intimate and most of the time we were too horny and eager for release to have the patience to build up to great highs.

Justin grabbed a fistful of my hair, burrowing his face into my neck, sighing in pleasure. "Love you."

I hugged him tightly, rocking us slowly. "Love you too, Sunshine."

Smiling brightly, he kissing me deeply before pressing his chest against mine, bending backwards, resting his hands on my knees. I should have known he'd tire of the romantic position. Justin was all about experiencing great pleasure and at how horny he got, the slow pace didn't satisfy him.

Holding his hips I pistoned as fast as possible into him, extracting loud groans and cries of unadulterated pleasure from my beautiful Sunshine. It was one of our newfound joys—to fuck as loud as we pleased since we were once again blissfully alone in the house.

When his swiveling hips slacked the undulations, I took it as my cue to take over. Keeping a firm grip on him, I lay him on his back, bringing his legs around my neck as I dived home.

"Fuck! Yes, like that, Brian!"

I grinned, leaning for a kiss. Nuzzling his nose, I whispered, "I want you to always remember this."

Justin beamed, his fingers twining in my hair, scratching my ear. "Just like our first time."

I smirked, kissing his brow. "I did promise to reenact that night. Now, no more talking."

"Yes, save your energy for the hand-stands. I'm eagerly waiting to see that glorious performance."

I laughed, stopping momentarily. God, how I loved him.

I was forever grateful for meeting him, and for him sticking around no matter how much of a jerk I was at times. Justin did his best to tame me, but I knew he secretly loved my untamable beast act.

He met my eyes, smiling, and I returned the gesture. His luminous, deep blue eyes reminded me of the first time I caught sight of him and how I was taken from moment one.

THE END