Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction
Author's Chapter Notes:

 

Brian's reconnaisance mission to discover the identity of the hotshot intern at StrataG doesn't go quite the way he plans. Will his and Justin's paths finally meet again at last?

 

One Hour Later...Delmonico's, 12:20 p.m.

 

Gus squealed in delight as he broke away from his father's hand to rush over toward the huge aquarium tank set up in the middle of the room, separating the nondescript, Italian family diner into two main eating areas.  "Daddy!  Look at that fish!" Gus called over to him excitedly as Brian smiled.  "It looks just like Nemo!"

 

Brian smiled.  "I see it, Sonny Boy," he told him as he walked over to join him.  Lindsay and Mel - who lived a few miles away from Kinnetik now - were only too happy to have a small break for the afternoon while Brian took Gus out to lunch. 

 

He observed his son with amusement as Gus stared, transfixed, at the colorful fish swimming around the various objects inside, weaving in and out of makeshift reefs, undulating ferns, and tunnels, his eyes lit up with amazement.  "I want one of these," Gus exclaimed, his face glowing in wonder as he pressed his nose against the glass.  He turned to his father hopefully, although Brian knew what he was going to say before he even uttered it.  "Daddy, do you think Mommy and Mama would let me have an...an..."  He scrunched up his nose in thought.  "What is it?"  He asked.

 

Brian laughed.  "It's called an aquarium, Gus," he told his son with a patient smile.  "A fancy name for a really big fish bowl," he explained as Gus nodded. 

 

"Auk-where-ee-um," his son repeated thoughtfully.  "Ohhh...."

 

Brian grinned.  "Close enough, Sonny Boy," he told him as he reached over and playfully tugged his son's blue and white-pinstriped engineer's cap down lower on his forehead to partially cover his eyes. 

 

"Daddy!" Gus whined in protest as Brian grinned.  He pulled it back up a little and stared down into his son's indignant face.  "Sorry ‘bout that, Buddy," he kidded him, taking his hand in his.  He looked around the restaurant, making sure he hadn't missed his target, but he didn't see anyone who would match the description of the blond-haired man he had seen earlier.  "Let's go find a booth, okay?  We can look at the fish again later." 

 

Gus nodded, looking over his shoulder longingly one last time at the colorful, striped clown fish, before he allowed his father to gently lead him over to the hostess station - really, just a wooden podium with a handwritten list of customers waiting to be seated. Brian was glad to observe that while the place was busy, it wasn't packed.  He wanted to make sure he didn't miss the blond-haired man he was seeking.  Indicating to the hostess that he wanted a space for two, she led them to a nearby booth in a corner of the left-handed side of the room where he had a clear view of the front entrance. 

 

Brian nodded politely as the waitress brought them over a couple glasses of water and placed menus down in front of them, although his son no doubt already had his heart set on an artery-clogging pepperoni pizza.  He groaned inwardly; the heavy sauce would no doubt settle in his stomach for the remainder of the afternoon. But as he looked at his contented-looking son, he realized any momentary discomfort or acid reflux would be more than worth it.

 


 

An hour later, his son sat next to him, remnants of marinara sauce all around his mouth and on his sticky fingers as he polished off his 3rd slice of pizza and took a last gulp from his soft drink.  Gus was in seventh heaven, burbling away constantly about nothing and everything, from his latest adventure on the playground during his school's "Fantastic Friday" event, to taking a tumble on his bike at home, to how he didn't want to get his hair all cut off like his moms kept telling him he needed to do (truthfully, it was getting a big too shaggy).  Normally accustomed to being the center of attention when it came to his father, Gus paused when he asked him a question about when he could come and spend the night, but didn't get a reply. He noticed his father's glance periodically drifting to the front of the restaurant, whenever the door opened and shut.  "Daddy..."  Gus called over to him amidst the other diners conversing and the occasional clatter of a glass or a dish, but his father kept his gaze leveled toward the door.  So he tried again, only louder this time as he took a deep breath.  "Daddy!"

 

His focus so intense, Brian jumped a little, startled, as he turned to look down at his frustrated son.  "Sorry, Buddy. What were you saying?" 

 

Gus huffed in irritation.  "Why aren't you paying attention to me, Daddy?  Am I boring?" 

 

Brian smiled as he shook his head, reaching over to briefly caress his son's cheek.  "You are never boring, Sonny Boy," he reassured him softly, shifting his attention solely to his son now. Obviously his hopes of catching the elusive artist who had one-upped Kinnetik wasn't going to happen today.  That didn't mean it had all been a waste of time, though; any time he could spend with his son was always a treasured experience.  "Now what were you trying to tell me?" 

 

"I wanted to know when I could come and spend the night again.  You promised to let me take a ride on the train."

 

Brian nodded with a smile.  "Oh, I did, didn't I?"  Gus nodded his head vigorously, his eyes lit up with excitement.  Ever since Brian had found out about an old-fashioned steam train that operated in the greater Pittsburgh area, and traveled in an 80-mile round trip to and from the local, old-fashioned train depot, his son had been chomping at the bit to try it out. He had promised Gus the next time he came out to visit - which, coincidentally, was scheduled for this coming weekend - that he would take the two of them on one of their trips through the heavily wooded area that hugged the mountains and provided a magnificent view of the river below.  He smiled ever wider as he informed his son, "Well, it just so happens that you're supposed to come and stay with me this weekend.  How does Saturday sound?"

 

Gus became so exhilarated over the thought that he clapped his hands and yelled out, "Yay!"  At the same time, his hand hit his glass and topped it onto the table, spilling the ice cubes all over the place.

 

Brian laughed as he reached for his cloth napkin and began to sop up the liquid.  "Like I said, you are NEVER boring, Sonny Boy," he told him as Gus smiled back at him in relief.  He sighed, noticing over an hour has passed since they had arrived.  "Ready to go, Son?" he asked as he slid off the booth and stood up.  Gus nodded as he, too, exited the bench seat and his father gripped his hand.  "Let's go take one last look at Nemo, and then your father has to get back to work." 

 

Gus skipped over to the fish tank with his father, who watched him closely as he paid for their meal at the cashier station.  As they exited the restaurant a few minutes later, they headed to the parking lot where Brian's car was located, completely missing the blond-haired man who entered the restaurant from the other direction, running late for his daily lunch due to his boss keeping him over for a last-minute assignment regarding the new account they had just obtained.


 

Saturday - the loft

 

"Brian, I can't work miracles."

 

"What am I paying you for, Theodore?"

 

"Uhh...to handle millions of dollars for you responsibly, balance your accounts payable and receivable on a weekly basis, handle payroll, and set up the appropriate tax deferral accounts?  Legally, of course."

 

Brian rolled his eyes.  Smart ass...  "Well, then it shouldn't be hard for you to figure out who the new art intern is." 

 

"I'm trying!" Ted protested.  "HR won't give out any information on the phone. Why would they?  Even if I were calling for legitimate hiring purposes, they aren't required to divulge anything." 

 

"Have I taught you nothing?  Use your...your charm, your wits, your...contacts in the porn world! Just find out his name, or you'll be counting the number of people in the unemployment line."

 

"Thanks for your confidence in me, Brian. You do realize it's Saturday, right?" 

 

"Anytime, Theodore.  And yes, I learned the days of the week in kindergarten.  I'll expect that information on my desk first thing Monday morning." 

 

Ted sighed heavily on the other end.  "Of course you will."

 

"Signing off now, Theodore."  He flipped his phone shut with a sigh of his own.  He didn't really have much confidence in Ted having any better luck than HE had had, but he thought it was worth a try.  Damn Palmer.  His information had turned out to be less than helpful, despite his not-so-subtle threats.  Truthfully, revealing Palmer's inclination to ogle someone's breast size wasn't worth his time. But it galled him to be beaten by the other ad agency, especially through the actions of a fucking student intern.  He did NOT like losing, especially to some snot-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears kid.  A very elusive kid to boot.  For now, though, as he heard his son's thundering footsteps rushing down the hallway, he temporarily pushed his frustration aside.  A tender smile appeared on his face as his son scurried into his office and practically ran into his arms.  His heart swelled with love as he held onto the small body cradled in his lap.  He never thought he could feel this happy about being a father, but there was just something about this child that produced great joy in his soul.

 

He pulled back to gaze into his son's expressive face.  "Got everything you need, Sonny Boy?" he asked, noting his son's cap and kerchief. The wooden train whistle that Justin had given him was hanging around his neck.  His pulse raced briefly as he thought about the blond.  He had deluded himself into thinking he would never dwell on the time they had spent together, and that he wouldn't think about him. Ever since he had returned from Tennessee, he had dreamed of no one else. Despite how hard he tried, invariably when he fantasized about being with another man, Justin's face and body were what came to his mind unbidden.  He couldn't quite say it was unwelcome, though.  Quite the contrary.  The vision of the beautiful blond who had captivated him in such a brief time, like a supernova that burned brightly and then quickly disappeared into the inky darkness - had become many a basis for some quite erotic interludes as he slept.  He couldn't quite figure out what it was about him that made him stand out from all the other men he had fucked.  Perhaps that was the point, though. For some inexplicable reason, he didn't see Justin as ‘just another fuck.'  Hell, it had taken a while to even reach that point with him in the literal sense.  But surprisingly, he had enjoyed his company immensely no matter what they had been doing, even when it hadn't involved sex.  But holy shit; when they were together that way, it was unlike any experience he had ever had before.

 

He had shown admirable restraint following through on his promise not to contact Justin for several months after they had parted; but eventually, his son's queries about his ‘friend' they had met while they had been on vacation, and his vivid, erotic night dreams, had eventually compelled him to pick up his cellphone and dial the number of the Sit a Spell in Pigeon Forge.  Imagine his surprise, however, when he was told that ‘Justin Taylor was no longer employed with them.' He couldn't recall the name of Justin's friend who had worked there with him - and had been his roommate, from what he could remember - but when he had mentioned that to the person who had answered the phone, they quickly realized whom he was referring to, and had told him that she, too, had quit at approximately the same time.  They didn't have any forwarding information, or details about where the two had gone.  But one of the other wait staff the person had asked had mentioned they thought the two had actually left town for parts unknown.

 

So his slow buildup of courage and surrender of his pride had all been for naught, and now he had NO idea where the man had gone.  He sighed, recalling those all-too-brief days last summer that he and his son had spent with the young waiter.  Now that he had time to reflect upon it, those days had been some of the happiest of his life.  Every moment spent with Justin had merely cemented his feeling that he only wanted to get to know him more, to spend additional time with him, to learn his passions; his likes, his dislikes, his hopes and dreams.  Now, however, it appeared that would never happen. 

 

"Daddy?"

 

Brian blinked, coming back to the present.  He looked over at the door, wondering how and when his son had slid off his lap and walked over to the front of the room.  He was currently peering back at him in confusion and curiosity.  Brian smiled over at him wistfully.  "I'm coming, Gus," he assured him as he rose from his chair to join him.  Placing his hand on his son's shoulder, the two of them walked down the hallway toward the garage to begin their railway adventure.

 


 

Two Hours Later...

 

Well, somehow his Sonny Boy had managed to do it again. He had finagled his way into the locomotive, and was presently sitting in the assistant engineer's lap as the train rambled down the track as it wound its way around the edge of the mountain.  Brian kept a watchful eye on him, a little leery of the open doorways on either side of the monstrous car, the steam periodically assaulting both his nostrils with its acrid smell, and making his eyes burn when it blew in just the proper direction to waft into the compartment. 

 

As he looked down at the sheer cliffs beside the track, however, he had to admit it was breathtakingly majestic.  A vast, green, pine blanket was everywhere the eye could see, endless mountains rising upward toward the sky, almost as if they could kiss it.  And the rushing river rapids flowing in a furious, winding pattern below were tinged with large boulders that periodically rose above the water like telescopes.  Occasionally a hawk, or even a bald eagle, would glide by his vision, flying for miles without so much as a wing flap.  The sky was crystal clear and a magnificent blue, with just a wisp here and there of clouds skittering by.  The sun cast a warm but not too overbearing glow down onto the train, the breeze providing just enough of a contrast to keep it from being stiflingly hot.

 

He looked over at his son, whose current smile of sheer delight would rival anyone's, including the young artist who had accompanied them on their last ride.  He grinned over at him in reaction, his own expression of amusement slowly transforming into something more melancholy, because their current situation reminded him of what he had lost.  Why had he been so damn stupid about not getting better contact information from Justin?  If he remembered correctly, he hadn't even given the other man his last name. At the time, it hadn't seemed important. He had looked at it as a fun, temporary type of diversion with an attractive, sexy man; not too dissimilar from hundreds of other encounters he had experienced before. Except none of them had also included his son.  None of them had involved hours of lively discussion and innocent enjoyment, just being content in another man's company.  None of them had so closely involved Gus, or meant so much to him. Until then, he would have never even allowed it. But with Justin, somehow all of that had been different.  It hadn't seemed odd at all to want to include him when he spent time with his son on vacation. With Justin, it had felt...natural.  Normal. 

 

Brian shook his head sadly as he continued to gaze over at his son, who was being held gently but firmly by the older, gray-haired, wizened man wearing a faded pair of gray-and-white overalls, a long-sleeved, off-white cotton, shirt, a red, paisley scarf tied around his neck, and a matching gray-and-white train cap.  As his son animatedly threw out questions at the man as if he was his long-time grandfather, it was hard to tell whether his son was having more fun, or the assistant engineer.

 

At last, however, their host politely mentioned that they would need to take extra care with a tight turn coming up, so for the sake of their passengers - and due to railway regulation rules - they would have to return to their seats. A bit disappointed, but also somewhat sleepy by now, Brian retrieved his son from the man's lap, and began to carefully carry him back to the next car.  Seeing how full it was, he decided to proceed further back toward the end, hoping to find a couple of seats toward the rear of the train, where there were open-air cars for easier sightseeing.

 

They were almost nearing the end of their journey; the train would be stopping at the small depot in a few miles to let its passengers off.  It had been a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours - and Brian was thankful to have this son this weekend - but in the back of his mind he was always thinking ahead, and his thoughts recently were focused on the artist who had managed to snatch the Starlight account out of his hands.  One way or the other, he was determined to find out who he was.

 

Reaching the open observation cars, Brian was surprised to notice all of the seats occupied, many of the riders gazing out the windows or snapping photos of the scenery.  "Daddy, where are WE going to sit?" Gus asked, echoing his same thought.

 

Noticing there was one last car remaining - the caboose - he lifted his son higher into his embrace as Gus wrapped his legs tighter around his father's waist.  "It's okay, Sonny Boy," he told him soothingly.  "We have one more car to check out.  Come on." 

 

As he slid open the door to the last compartment, he groaned. This one, too, was full. That left only one alternative if they didn't want to stand:  hopefully the outside viewing area of the caboose was vacant. 

 

Placing his son down, he grasped his hand.  "Want to go outside?" he asked him as Gus nodded with an excited smile. 

 

Walking over to the door, he pushed it open, the banging sound as it slid back into place startling the lone occupant who was sitting on a metal, red-colored bench, sketchpad and pencil in his hand as he drew a landscape scene.  The pencil promptly fell onto the hard, metal floor, along with the open sketchpad, however, as the artist peered over at the door and instantly recognized the father and son joining him.  He didn't have time to say anything aloud, however, as Gus beat him to it.

 

"Justin!" Gus screeched out in joy, as he rushed over and flung himself into Justin's open arms.  "It's you!"  Gus wrapped his arms around Justin's neck and pulled him closer before he asked him reproachfully, "Where have you been?" 

 

Justin was rendered speechless, just like the boy's father who was staring over at him in stunned disbelief.  It was hard to tell which one was more surprised at the moment, but one thing was clear:  both of them were wearing identical looks, a mixture of shock and exhilaration. 

 

His momentary surprise quickly abated - even though his question was going unanswered - Gus leaned back to stare into Justin's eyes as he began to converse with him as if nothing had changed.  "Look, Justin, I'm wearing the whistle you gave me!"  He reached up with his hands to grasp the chunky object and pursed his lips against it to blow, the shrill sound of the whistle piercing the air, but hardly able to be heard about the hissing of the steam as the train turned the last corner toward its destination.

 

Brian stood transfixed, rooted to his spot, observing the scene between his son and Justin as if it were a movie reel. The whole thing was so surreal to him as he watched Justin finally break off their gaze to peer into his son's eyes and smile.  "I...I see that, Gus," he told him, his own arms wrapped around the child's back to hold him securely against him. 

 

Finally, Brian found his legs again as he walked over and, bracing his hand against one of the rails so he didn't fall, he retrieved Justin's sketchpad and pencil.  Standing mere feet from the other man holding his child, he shook his head in astonishment.  Was this really happening?  He had to know for sure.  His brain was telling him, yes, of course. But his heart was another matter.

 

He walked the couple of steps over to the bench and sat down next to Justin. A rush of emotions engulfed him as his thigh touched the denim-clad one of his companion's, the light touch still quite searing and pronounced.  Oh, my God. This IS real, immediately sprang to his mind as his eyes locked on Justin's.  He shook his head again as his son peered over Justin's shoulder, a look of wonder on his face. It probably looked much like his own as he finally asked, "How? How is this possible?" Do you have any idea how long I have waited to see you again?  How BADLY I wanted to see you again? He thought silently as he reveled in the sight of him. He wanted so much at that moment to reach out and pull Justin into his arms and plaster a kiss on those plump, pink lips as further reassurance that he wasn't dreaming all this up, but his son was preventing that. Instead, he decided to stare intently into Justin's face, afraid to avert his eyes away for fear he would turn back around and the man would have vanished again.

 

But to his immense relief, he received a response to his question, allowing him to hope this was all deliciously real.  "It's a long story," Justin told him with a smile as he continued to hold onto Gus, who was now sitting up on his knees with his back to him, attempting to get a better look at something over Justin's shoulder as he fidgeted.  "But to make a long story short, I'm going to school in Pittsburgh...on a grant." 

 

"You...you are?  Which school?  How long have you been here?" Brian asked, repeating his son's earlier question.

 

"About a semester now."  Justin smiled.  "I'm attending PIFA.  It's great!  It's one of the schools I always wanted to attend so I could concentrate on my art career."

 

Brian nodded with a slight smile.  "I told you there was more in store for you besides drawing on disposable placements," he reminded him teasingly as Justin grinned.  He frowned slightly, however, as he asked, "But how, Justin?  How did you get from Tennessee to HERE?"

 

"You can thank my friend, Daphne, for that.  Unbeknownst to me, she sent in an application to several colleges on my behalf, along with some of my work.  PIFA offered me a full ride, and had the best deal financially, so I wound up here."  He paused as Gus shifted in his arms, signaling he wanted down.  He gently turned the boy around and helped him down onto the floor, as Gus scampered over to the other side of the car for a look on the other side.

 

"Hold onto the railing, Sonny Boy," Brian warned him, finally taking his eyes briefly off the other man.  "Don't let go, okay?"

 

"Okay, Daddy," the child reassured him, his hands curled around the wrought-iron railing as the train slowly decreased in speed, preparing to slide into the railway depot for disembarking.  Brian made sure he was doing as he asked before he turned back to Justin. This time, he reached out to grab his hand, his heart racing as he felt the warmth of his touch.  This IS real, he told himself, finally convinced.  He really IS here, sitting beside me again

 

Justin was thinking much the same thing, as he stared into the hazel eyes that had haunted his dreams for months now.  He had given up hope of ever seeing Brian again. But here he was, sitting next to him, their hands clasped together between them, much like they had been that day on the sky ride.  He didn't know what sort of fate had conspired to bring them back together again, but he would be eternally grateful to whomever or whatever had been responsible for it.  He had missed seeing this man so much! But his heart had closed off any chance of ever being with him again. Now, though, it was as if the gate locking it shut had unexpectedly swung wide open again.  "I...I don't believe this," he whispered as he peered into Brian's eyes.  A small smile played at Brian's lips as he told him, "I didn't even know where you lived.  I didn't even know your last name.  I never thought I would ever see you again."

 

"Neither did I," Brian murmured in amazement.  In some ways, it was as if they had never parted, even though it had been almost a year now.  He felt so comfortable around Justin.  He had felt that way back then, and he still felt that way.  He glanced over at Gus to make sure he was still being careful, satisfied that he was continuing to hold onto the railing, as he turned back to his companion.  He shook his head once more.  "Of all the places you could have chosen to attend.  Wow," he murmured, glancing down at their clasped hands.  He reached over to pick up the sketchbook and admire Justin's ability.  "This is amazing," he told him appreciatively.  "So detailed."

 

"Thanks," Justin replied, his face flushing over the praise.  "I took an illustration class this past semester," he told him.  "And I've been picking up some experience this summer as an intern."  He added, "As a matter of fact, it's at one of the ad agencies in town.  It's not yours, is it?"  Surely if it HAD been, he would have heard Brian's name mentioned by now.

 

Brian shook his head as he frowned, something badgering him at the back of his mind.  Ad agency...intern...blond... Oh, no.  "Justin?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"What's the name of the agency you're interning for?" 

 

"It's called StrataG.  As a matter of fact, they just picked up a big account the other day," he told him proudly.  "I did the illustration work on it."  He gasped as Brian yanked his hand away, almost as if it were burning.  "What?  What is it?" he asked, alarmed. 

 

"YOU did the artwork for that account?" Brian asked sharply, his brows narrowing in dismay. 

 

"Yes," he answered hesitantly, wondering why Brian was looking at him that way.  "Why?  I mean, I know I'm just a college student, but the CEO seemed really pleased with the results, and we were successful..."

 

"Yeah, I know you were," Brian responded dryly.  "TOO successful. Marcum made that very clear to me...in fact, he couldn't stop talking about you, although he didn't mention you by name." 

 

Justin's brow furrowed in confusion.  How would Brian know that?  Then it occurred to him; Marcum had told the StrataG team that another ad agency had pitched their own ideas to him just before they had arrived, and he had mentioned that he would be making his decision immediately after both teams were finished.  "Oh, no," he murmured in realization.  "You mean that you were the...the other...?" 

 

"Yeah," Brian told him, his lips pursed tightly together in irritation.  "Kinnetik was going after that same account.  And we fucking lost."  He stared straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought, before he turned back to his companion.  "And I don't like to lose, Justin." 

 

Justin's eyes grew wide.  "Oh, shit; I had no idea, Brian!  All I knew was what I was told; that our agency and one other one were competing for their business."  He bit his lip in distress; suddenly, his previous feeling of pride and jubilation quickly disappeared as he realized what had happened.  "I didn't know," he repeated, deflated and feeling like crap. 

 

Brian shook his head in dismissal.  "StrataG won fair and square," he told him flatly.  "Obviously my Art Department couldn't live up to the other company's ace in the hole. The way Marcum described you, he believes you're going to be the greatest pop artist genius of the 21st century." 

 

Justin's mouth hung open.  "He said that?"

 

Brian nodded tersely.  "In a manner of speaking.  I'm not sure he's such an expert judge about art, though."  He realized how that sounded as soon as it was out of mouth, as he noticed Justin's face fall.  "Present company excepted," he added quickly as Justin nodded in relief.  Peering over at Gus again to make sure he was still doing as he asked, he sighed.  "I'm not angry at you, Justin.  I'm more pissed off at my own Art Department for not living up to my high standards - and being outdone by a college intern half their age."  He grimaced, somewhat embarrassed that he couldn't best this other competitor.  But now that he understood who the intern had been, it began to make sense.  Realizing what he had done earlier, he reached back over to grip Justin's hand in his, remembering the vow he had made.  "Well, that can all be quickly addressed," he decided as Justin frowned.

 

"What do you mean?" he pressed him. 

 

Brian smirked; the solution was an easy one.  "You'll just have to come and work for me, that's all.  I only employ the best."  He grimaced.  "And I thought I HAD the best - until the other day.  But that can be easily fixed now."  He said it as if it were a done deal, and extraordinarily simple.

 

He soon found out that it was not going to be that easy, however, as Justin shook his head sadly.

 

"What?"

 

"I can't leave StrataG," he told him.  "The school has an exclusive agreement with them to place their students there, including during our summer break.  If I don't stay there as an intern, I won't get college credit for it come fall. And if I did quit, I might never get another chance to co-op again.   I don't want the school to look at me as some kind of a quitter who doesn't follow through on his commitments."

 

"But..." Brian's mouth hung open.  He was all in favor of a person being ethical and responsible, but this was not acceptable.  For a LOT of reasons. 

 

The train was coming to a stop now, as people began to filter out from the accompanying car in preparation to disembark.  Brian knew with the burgeoning crowd that now was not going to be a good time to continue their conversation, so instead he rose to his feet and pulled Justin up along with him. 

 

Motioning for his son to join him, he dropped Justin's hand to grasp his son's.  Turning slightly to face the other man, he told him with determination, "This discussion isn't finished, Justin." 

 

Justin opened his mouth to reply, but the hissing sound coming from the locomotive, along with the screech of the brakes, drowned out any response he might make.  So instead, he finally nodded, sensing that Brian wouldn't just let the issue go.  He would love to work with Brian's agency.  But he was torn.  He couldn't go to work for him without jeopardizing his co-op status.  And he knew it was important to establish himself.  Truthfully, too, he had been so surprised but happy when his own designs had been chosen by Mr. Marcum as the basis for accepting StrataG's campaign.  That had filled him with immense pride.  How could he risk what he had so justly earned? 

 

He looked down then as he felt Gus slipping his hand into his, unable to stop from smiling down at him as the young boy peered up at him with such an innocent, trusting look on his face. To Gus, holding his father's hand and Justin's hand seemed like the most natural thing in the world.  Justin exchanged an intense look with Brian before one of the porters announced it was time to disembark, and the trio headed along with the others toward the now-open gate. 

 

Soon, the three were back at the train depot, heading toward the parking lot.  "How did you get here?" Brian asked Justin, unwilling to let him slip through his fingers again.

 

Justin indicated a rather nondescript, used car sitting several feet away as Brian winced.  "You came in that?"  The vehicle - one of those four-door sedans that looked like every other sedan - had rust spots around one of the tire rims, and a few nicks and scrapes along the side. 

 

"It's reliable transportation, and it's all I can afford right now," Justin told him a little defensively.  Not everyone could afford what Brian no doubt could.  "It gets me where I need to go." 

 

His companion wrinkled his face in distaste, wary it would travel so much as another foot without falling apart.  "Well, right now it needs to get you back to my place."

 

Gus took turns twisting his head back and forth, listening to the two men talking as if he were observing a tennis match, as Justin replied intelligently, "Huh?"

 

"You're coming back to my loft with Gus and me.  No arguments.  I insist.  That is, if that rattletrap can get you there in one piece without breaking down first. I don't fix flat tires, either."

 

"Yay!" Gus exclaimed in happiness.  "Yeah, Just'n!  You need to come home with us.  I can show you all my trains.  Daddy's bought me lots of trains!"

 

"I'm sure he has," was the dry response.  "I'm surprised he hasn't bought you a real one yet."  He didn't know why, but it kind of bothered him that after all this time - despite the fact of how happy he was to see him again -Brian evidently thought that anything he said goes, and he was still thinking about their earlier conversation.  He had more than just his libido to think about here.  His future career and his reputation could be on the line.  He sighed, though, knowing whatever his reservations, he desperately wanted to spend more time with Brian on a personal level. And as he glanced over at the hopeful look on Gus's face, he knew he couldn't disappoint him, either.  He finally nodded his head.  "Okay.  You lead the way..."

 


 

Twenty Minutes Later...

 

Justin pulled up to the curb behind Brian's car in front of a squat, brick building, surprised that someone like him would live in such an unmemorable type of place.  As he emerged from the car, Gus scampered over to him and grabbed his hand as if he were playing tour guide, causing both men to smile in amusement.

 

A few minutes - and a ride in a rickety kind of elevator later - the trio emerged onto the top floor, Gus eagerly pulling Justin toward a large, metal door.  Justin would have sworn he was about to enter some type of industrial, cavernous factory, rather than someone's living quarters. That is, until Brian punched in a security code and swung the door open to let him enter first.

 

His mouth hung open as he gazed upward at the extremely high, exposed ceilings, and the dramatic windows that opened its arms to welcome the sunlight, spotlighting the gleam of the stainless steel, top-of-the-line appliances, and the polished, hardwood, oak floor.  The space was tastefully and exquisitely decorated, but also open and airy.  It wasn't at all what Justin was expecting.  "Wow," he murmured as he examined it intently, turning completely around to take in the furnishings.  His eyes settled briefly on a large painting of a naked man, his face burning, before he focused on the living room area and then a set of panels that evidently separated that area from the more private bedroom space.  "This is amazing."  He decided that the artist in him liked the clean lines and the modern look of the place.  He did notice a few concessions to Gus's presence, however.  Over in one corner was what appeared to be a large, wooden, toy box; a train track was set up next to it in a figure-8 shape, and two, curved, black leatherette bean bag chairs were placed beside it, evidently for the ‘engineers.'  Next to the train track was a child's artist easel with some newspapers generously placed underneath, no doubt to control a somewhat rambunctious child's artistic endeavors. 

 

He turned around to smile at Brian.  "I like it," he told him as Brian nodded; he noticed him studying him carefully as he asked, "How long have you lived here?" 

 

Brian thought for a moment before he replied, "About 12 years or so."

 

Justin nodded back at him, his eyes drinking in all the shapes, lines, and colors that flowed into a cohesive, bold statement.  "I would have never guessed the inside of this building would look like this."

 

"Only this floor," Brian told him.  "The other apartments aren't as..."  He wasn't sure HOW to describe them - or his own loft.  He finally settled on "well-appointed," so he didn't come off as some ostentatious snob.

 

"Daddy told me he wants to find a house," Gus suddenly chimed in.  "A house with a big yard for me to play in!"

 

Brian seemed a little uncomfortable as he mumbled, "Well, one day," he told him, as he reached out to affectionately ruffle his hair.  "When we find the right one."  He almost seemed a little embarrassed to admit how deeply he loved his son, and what lengths he would go to in order to make him happy, but it only made Justin respect the man more.

 


 

Two hours later, Gus had practically worn Justin out, persuading him to play with his trains, a remote control car, donning a cap pistol and a brown, plastic cowboy hat to play ‘sheriff and bad guy' (Justin was the bad guy who had to hide out behind the couch until Gus ‘shot' him), and sketching a pencil drawing of him, Brian, and his son so Gus could color it later.

 

Finally, Brian took pity on him as he scooped up his giggling son and carried him over to the couch, unceremoniously dropping him onto the soft piece of furniture. Gus squealed in delight as his father tackled him and proceeded to mercilessly tickle him for a few moments, before he showered his son with kisses on his face and neck.  Justin's heart skipped a beat at the sight; it was so obvious how much this man loved his little boy.

 

Finally, Brian eased up on his assault, announcing that it was time for Gus's shower.  The child's protests were promptly pushed aside as his father promised to read him one of favorite stories afterward - a book by the name of, naturally, "Locomotive" - and soon enough, the two of them were heading toward the bathroom, providing Justin with a brief respite from his role as playmate.  He smiled as he watched them disappear into the bedroom and heard the water starting, knowing that Brian would be keeping a careful eye on his son.

 

After drying his son off and helping him put on his pajamas, Brian called out to Justin, telling him he would join him as soon as he read Gus his bedtime story.  Several minutes later, his son had fallen asleep in his massive, king-sized, platform bed, one of his favorite, stuffed toys - a "Thomas the Train" Pillow Pet - tucked under his arm.  Gazing at him tenderly, Brian leaned down to bestow a kiss on his son's cheek before he pulled the blanket up higher on his small body and turned the table lamp down to a dimmer setting.  "Good night, Tiger," he whispered affectionately as he rose gingerly from the bed so as not to disturb him.

 

Quietly closing the blinds behind him, Brian plodded down the steps into the living room and frowned.  There was no sign of Justin; the room was inexplicably silent.  Where had he gone? Surely he hadn't left?  His heart fell in disappointment - until he walked further toward the couch.  There, lying on his side with his hands folded under his head, was his blond, fast asleep as well.  His.  When did he begin thinking about Justin as ‘his' blond?  He gingerly sat down on the edge of the couch near Justin's legs, and indulged himself, simply spending several moments just staring at him.  He looked so peaceful, lying there asleep, his face relaxed in slumber as if he didn't have a care in the world. 

 

Brian knew better, though, or at least suspected.  Yes, Justin might have a financial grant that provided him with much of what he needed as a student, but that didn't mean he didn't have any troubles.  And Brian felt like he had managed to add to them earlier today, when he had laid a guilt trip on him for not immediately jumping at the chance to join his company. 

 

Placing one hand on the back of the couch, he leaned down until he could lightly brush some hair away from Justin's eyes, tucking it behind his ear.  He resisted kissing the slightly-parted, soft lips that were tempting him as pulled back and just sat there, staring down at the man who had occupied so many of his dreams over the past several months. What exactly was it about Justin that intrigued him so?  And his child clearly adored him.  His son - for all his tender years - was an excellent judge of character.  He, too, saw something special in this man. 

 

Pulling the lightweight throw from the back of the couch, he placed it over Justin's legs and chest before, with one last gaze at the other man, he slowly rose from his place on the couch and headed over to the bedroom, shedding his clothes and slipping into a lightweight pair of sweatpants before sliding in next to his son.  It would be several minutes before he could finally fall asleep, dreaming once more of a certain blond in the next room.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

More up soon. Thank you as always for reading, and for commenting.  I appreciate both very much.

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