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.