Previously...

The ringing of the landline phone nearby brought Brian out of his reverie; to his consternation he had found out that when they moved out to Britin, they did not have a reliable cellphone signal at times, so they had been forced to keep a landline phone to ensure all business calls were received.  The phone rang once, twice, three times before Brian sarcastically commented, "Oh, that's okay; I'll get the phone."

"Asshole," was the remark as Brian grinned and reached to pick up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Uh... Mr. Taylor?" A deep, female voice asked tentatively.

"No, it's Brian Kinney."

"Oh!  Mr. Kinney!  I didn't recognize your voice."

Brian rolled his eyes; that made two of them, because the voice was not familiar at all to him.  He was about to ask who the fuck it was when the caller identified herself.

"This is Sandra Cranston, your next-door neighbor."

Brian could hear a clattering noise coming from the other side of the white partition and hoped Justin hadn't spilled a bunch of paint on the new hardwood floor as he replied, "Yeah, you're Sassy's owner."

"Sadie," Sandra told him.

"Yeah...Okay.  The dog climber."

"Right," she said with a sort of snort.  There was a brief hesitation before she continued, "Uh, Mr. Kinney, we have a slight problem."

"Oh?  Did she get loose again?  I haven't seen her around here, if that's what you're asking."

There was a short pause on the other end again before Sandra Cranston answered.  "Uh, no, that's not why I'm calling."

Brian sighed.  "Then how can I help you?"  Were they going to have to play twenty questions or what?  His neighbor's next words, however, made that unnecessary as her purpose became crystal clear.

"Mr. Kinney, how would you like an addition to the family?"

Shit.

Two Months Later...Friday

Brian sighed in relief as he pulled into the garage and turned off the motor.  It had been a hell of a day at work, and he was enormously relieved to be home.  There was just something about their place that made his blood pressure instantly lower.

Swinging his long legs out of the car, he turned and headed toward the door leading into the house, stopping as he reached for the handle to go inside.  There, hanging down from the doorknob, was a retractable dog leash; a NEW, retractable dog leash. He shook his head as he took the contraption and placed it on a metal rack nearby, along with some other related items.  He groaned. Not again...

This was the fourth dog supply item he had encountered this month.  A few days after Sandra Cranston had called to inform him that their dog, Sadie, was pregnant, asking him if he and Justin would like one of her puppies, his fiancé had begun not-so-subtly leaving little 'mementos' all over the house. 

First, it was a small, stainless steel dog dish, lying on top of the coffee table with butter mints in it.  (At least it had been a clean one). Then, there was the industrial sized bag of Puppy Chow that appeared in the garage in a plastic, flip-top dog food bin one day, placed not-so-subtly right next to the door leading into the house.

Last week, it had been a coupon for Doggy Obedience Training that just seemed to magically appear in the middle of a stack of bills on his desk in the study. 

And now this; a red-handled, 25-foot, retractable dog leash for a ‘medium-sized' dog.  Now if only Justin would get it right and buy a studded dog collar for some 'extra-curricular' activities the two of THEM could participate in, then perhaps one of the items could be put to good use.  But as of now, all these canine-related items merely served to remind him of who the 'stud' had been who had knocked Sadie up, and the idea of having one of that dog's offspring running around the house - or ANYONE'S canine offspring, for that matter - made him cringe and envision all sorts of evils.

He had tried not to even divulge to Justin what their next-door neighbor had told him; in fact, he had managed to keep his mouth shut about it for at least a few days after quickly telling her thanks, but no thanks.  But unfortunately as they sometimes did, Justin and Sandra met at the fence one day when Sadie had gotten loose once more, and their neighbor had promptly spilled the beans about her ‘delicate condition,' assuming that Justin already knew.  Now it was all his fiancé could think about.  Well, that and their wedding coming up soon.  He sighed as he took one, last look at the dog leash and other sundry items before he opened the door and walked inside.

He immediately smelled the enticing aroma of one of his favorite meals - Beef Bourguignon - as he stepped into the kitchen.  And as he looked over at the stove, his body tingled in admiration while certain parts of his anatomy went on high alert - emphasis on the 'high' part. There, standing at the stove stirring the pot, was his beautiful partner wearing a white, linen apron tied around his slim waist - and nothing underneath, exposing his delectable bubble butt for his greedy inspection.  His eyes darkened with lust, and his cock twitched in appreciation as Justin turned around to flash one of his million-dollar smiles at him.  "Hey, Brian.  Hungry?" he asked with a sexy smirk.

Brian draped his suit jacket over the back of the nearby desk chair, walking over to his fiancé and sweeping his eyes up and down to openly ogle the curves and angles of creamy, smooth, unblemished skin.  How does he do that? Brian marveled.  HE was the one who spent a long amount of time each day with expensive lotions to ensure the same effect, and Justin never touched the shit.  "Depends.  I'm always hungry for certain items.  Precisely what are you offering?" he drawled seductively as he leered at him. 

Justin grinned; his face tinged with a little pink as he blushed slightly over the tone of Brian's voice.  Dipping his wooden spoon into the sauce, he turned around and held it up for Brian's inspection.  "Taste," he quietly commanded, as Brian partly opened his lips to sample it.

He waited a few seconds until Brian nodded.  "That's damn good," he told him as Justin beamed. Coming from Brian that was a sublime compliment, far above his standard ‘not bad.' 

"What is it? It tastes just like Beef Bourguignon to me...just with some more vegetables thrown in." 

Justin put the spoon down into the pot before he turned back around to slide his arms around Brian's neck.  "Nope, I thought I'd try something new."  He grinned slyly.  "I call it...Irish Wolfhound Stew." 

Brian rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together in amusement.  "Uh, huh.  Well, I might call it something else," he told him with a smirk.  Like a bribe - or blackmail...

Justin eyed him innocently.  "Oh?  Well, the real name for it, according to the cookbook, is Beef Stew with Vegetables.  But that sounds so ordinary. I prefer the other name...don't you?"  He lightly played with the back of Brian's hair as he smiled up at him, batting his baby blues at him. 

"Justin..." was the warning as Brian sighed, deciding to just ignore the overt hint.  "When will dinner be ready? I'd like to go take a shower first."  He loosened his tie, suddenly bothered by how tight it was around his neck. 

His fiancé's trademark, brilliant smile diminished in reaction - which Brian hated, knowing he was the cause of it. But damn it, he was not going to be coerced into bringing a clone of Cujo into his house, his oasis.  That would be like bringing a bull into the proverbial china shop. And as much as he deeply loved Justin, even HE had some boundaries that had to be kept. Wasn't it enough that he allowed Gus to bring Tricky with him whenever he came to visit?  There was no way he could possibly handle TWO of them; especially not a canine that had one ounce of the same genetic material as his dear, old Dad did.  And an untrained puppy to boot?  It would be like trying to raise a newborn with fur.  At least the human kind was somewhat controllable - and you could use diapers and baby bottles with them. 

Justin let out a resigned breath - or so it seemed.  "About thirty minutes," he told him softly, turning around to begin stirring the pot again, signaling to Brian that their brief conversation was over for now.  He leaned in from behind to place his hands on Justin's biceps, holding him against his body and clearly indicating his growing desire for him as he nuzzled the side of his neck briefly. "You can put that on simmer while you take care of something else that's damn near boiling over," he huskily suggested. How this man could make him hard as a rock in seconds, merely by smelling him and holding him continued to astound him. 

But he was soon disappointed.  "I have to watch this," Justin insisted, his voice a little clipped.  "You go ahead."

Brian bit back a sigh.  "Fine," he answered a bit curtly himself.  "I'll be back down shortly."  Releasing his lover, he turned and, picking up his suit jacket, he headed toward the hallway.

Just before he could leave the room, however, Justin called over to him.  "Brian?"

He turned around, hoping Justin had changed his mind, or at the very least was not going to launch into another discourse on the wonders of owning a pet.  "Yes?" he asked cautiously.

"Don't forget Emmett's coming over tonight to discuss the catering arrangements for the wedding." 

Brian nodded, realizing he had actually forgotten all about it. "Is he staying for dinner?" 

Justin shook his head.  "No...I invited him, but he had other plans. He'll be here around seven."

Brian digested that information.  "Okay. But I told you before...whatever you want is fine with me. I don't really need to be that involved with all the details."

"Anything?" Justin replied, one eyebrow raised.

Brian huffed; he knew precisely what his fiancé was trying to say, and he was NOT going to give in.  "Sunshine, we've discussed this over and over again.  Anything but that.  Okay?"  Not waiting for a reply when it wasn't immediately forthcoming, he finally turned and headed down the hallway toward the stairs leading up to the master bathroom before Justin could say anything else. 

Justin sighed as he watched Brian retreat; the ‘not-so-subtle' approach didn't seem to be working as well as he had hoped.  He smiled after a few moment, however; perhaps he needed to ante up the ‘persuasion' just a notch. 

Later that Evening...

"Are you sure you're okay with what I chose?" Justin pressed. They were presently sitting in bed with their backs pressed up against the wooden headboard; Brian was reading an advertising trade magazine, while Justin was sketching ideas for how he wanted the backyard to look for their outdoor wedding in a month.  This was a typical evening ritual for the two of them whenever Brian had to head into work the next morning:  eat dinner whenever Brian returned home (he normally had to text or call Justin to tell him what time, since his schedule varied so much), have an after-dinner drink while watching a little TV or a movie on demand, or listen to some music. Then - after some making out on the leather couch downstairs - they would set the security alarm and head up to bed, where Brian would catch up with some research about some of his clients, Justin would do more sketching for a project he was working on, they would then fuck (of course, Justin considered it making love, instead, and Brian did, too, only he would never admit that out loud), and then they would take a leisurely shower together afterward where they would fuck some more in between getting clean and washing each other's bodies off.

Then...finally, after a little more light making out, they would finally fall asleep in each other's arms.  It was a notoriously, almost hetero lifestyle in its regularity, but the two of them enjoyed it immensely, and they figured why fix something it if wasn't broken?

Brian glanced over at him and shook his head.  "You know I'm fine with whatever you and Emmett decide," he told him.  "As long as the wedding colors don't wind up matching most of Emmett's outfits.  NO pastels."

"Cross my dick...uh, heart," Justin promised with a grin, as he raised three fingers pressed together for emphasis.  "No pastels. We decided on navy and gold." 

Brian heaved a sigh of relief.  "I can live with that," he decided with a nod.  "Our suits?" 

Justin advised him, "Navy suits with subtle gold pinstriping."

Brian nodded in relief.  "Good. Then that will give me an excuse to buy a new Armani suit for the special occasion."

Justin laughed.  "But you have several navy suits already." 

"I know," Brian replied in agreement. "But this is a special occasion. I only plan on getting married once." 

Justin flushed with pleasure; it wasn't a particularly romantic response - not coming from most people - but to him it spoke volumes about Brian's commitment to him.  "Oh. Okay...I can live with that," he declared with a smile as they leaned over to kiss; pulling back, Brian smiled that crooked kind of smile that always made Justin's heart skip a beat, and he couldn't help smiling back at him in return before his fiancé returned to his magazine article. 

They sat that way for several seconds in companionable silence until Justin spoke up again. "Uh...Brian?" 

Not bothering to look up from his article, his fiancé replied, "Hmm?"  While he had been around during Emmett's visits, he hadn't paid much mind to what the two friends were discussing; as long as they kept it rather small - which he had already made Justin promise to do - and they didn't use any pastels or plastic silverware or - God forbid - those awful, fold-out, paper accordion bells, he was okay with whatever they had arranged.  He trusted Justin's artistic sensibility - and how well he knew his taste - to know that he wouldn't arrange anything cheap or tacky for his own wedding.

"I baked some banana bread today."

Brian nodded as he continued to read the article, adjusting the half-frame glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.  He had intially hated the fucking things, but once he determined they were much more comfortable than putting in contacts, and that he only needed them for reading, he had come to accept them.  Of course, Justin telling him that they looked sexy on him didn't hurt, either.  "That's nice," he answered distractedly, wondering why he should care.  He never touched any of that high-carb shit.

Justin hesitated.  "I took some over to the neighbors." 

Brian continued to read, Justin's last statement only barely registering in his mind as he continued to study the article he was reading, thinking it would be helpful for one of the new clients he had just obtained for Kinnetik.  "That was thoughtful of you." 

"Sandra told me it was her favorite thing to eat with her coffee," Justin added, holding his breath.  "She even asked me for the recipe, because she says she can never get the texture right, and hers comes out dry all the time."

Brian's brain finally registered what his lover was saying as he slowly laid the magazine down on the mattress and took a deep breath.  "You took food over to that canine slut's owner?" 

Justin shrugged, trying to hold back his smile over Brian's choice of words.  "Well, I had extra, and I knew you wouldn't eat any," he teased him as Brian grunted.  "I didn't want it to go to waste." 

"Uh...of course," the brunet replied dryly.  "How...economical of you."  He paused.  "You didn't by chance have an ulterior motive, did you?" 

Justin plastered an innocent look on his face.  "What do you mean?  It was just a nice gesture toward one of our neighbors." 

"Uh, huh. You know exactly what I mean, Mr. 1500 S.A.T."  He sighed as he carefully placed his glasses down on the bedside table, noting the hopeful look in the blue eyes; if it was one thing Brian hated, it was disappointing the man he loved more than life itself.  But he also needed to preserve his sanity, too.  "Justin, we've discussed this over and over again. I thought we had settled it. We decided it would be too much to have both Cujo and his demon spawn here at the same time."

"No, Mr. Kinney.  YOU decided that," Justin clarified stiffly as he put his sketchbook down and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Brian rolled his eyes in response to his lover's petulance.  "I can't believe we're discussing this again," he muttered.  "On second thought, no, Justin, I am not going to discuss this again," he decided, before promptly launching into just that.  "Is your memory getting cloudy in your old age?  Do you not remember everything that dog did while he was here? And you want to compound that by bringing one of his clones into our happy homo home? And a puppy at that! They don't arrive housetrained already like some preassembled electronic gadget. And if it has one iota of that dog's genes, it won't even BE trainable.  They kicked Tricky out of obedience school, remember?"  He shook his head, receiving a stony silence in response.  "It's bad enough I have to put up with him whenever Gus comes to visit. But at least he's not here on a permanent basis, and I can have some control over who does or doesn't live in our home."  He shuddered at the thought. 

"Well, at least you remembered it's our home," was the quiet rejoinder.  "By the way, have you forgotten that Tricky saved both my life and your son's?  If that dog hadn't been here, I wouldn't be here. And there's a good chance your son wouldn't be, either.  Maybe you should think about that." 

Brian swallowed hard.  He didn't like to think about those two periods in their lives; just the thought of losing either his son or Justin made him almost physically ill.  "I am well aware of that," he responded softly, his voice hitching with emotion.  He brushed one hand through his hair restlessly, tousling it in every direction, before reaching over to rest his hand against Justin's cheek. The stubbornness, as well as disappointment, were clearly etched on his fiancé's beautiful face, but as Brian laid his hand against his cheek, the golden eyelashes fluttered closed in reaction to his touch.  "If I ever lost you...or Gus..." Brian was unable to say the words.  He cleared his throat, feeling awkward as well as vulnerable as Justin's eyes slowly opened back up to stare over at him. 

"I know," Justin admitted.  "I'm sorry.  It's just that you're gone a large part of the day - and it gets kind of lonely here all by myself in this big house.  Not that I don't love living here, and having my studio out back to work in," he hastened to add.  "But...it would be nice to have some company when you're not here."

Brian eyed him wryly.  "Are you comparing my company to a dog's, Sunshine?" he teased him, slowly stroking Justin's jawline as he spoke.

Justin reached up to grasp Brian's hand in his, holding it over his heart as he replied softly, "Of course not.  There's no comparison. A dog wouldn't talk back to me - or care if I bought her an off-the-rack sweater or an Armani edition.  And she wouldn't be nearly as picky an eater as someone else I know, either." 

Brian snorted.  "And they eat out of the same dish every day, too, and drink out of toilet bowls.  Your point is?"

Justin sighed.  "I had dogs growing up when I was young, and they were such great companions.  They're loyal, faithful..."

"So are Boy Scouts, but you don't see one of THEM here." 

"Brian!" was the quick rebuke as the brunet rolled his lips under with a crooked grin.  "You've been asking me over and over again what I want for my wedding present.  Well, I have everything I could ever want or need, except..." 

Brian let out a deep breath of resignation.  "She, huh?  Sounds like you already have one picked out."

Justin had the decency to appear sheepish as he admitted, "Well, Sandra did invite me in to see them, and I didn't want to be rude." 

Brian shook his head in amusement.  "Of course not; we couldn't have that, could we?" 

Justin's face broke out into an animated smile as he recalled meeting them for the first time earlier today.  "You should see them, Brian! They are so adorable!  Some are brown like Sadie, and some are blond like Tricky. Two boys and two girls.  She actually had nine, but she's found homes for most of them already.  She told me that since Tricky was the father, she would give me my choice of any of the ones that are left. There was this chocolate brown female that toddled right up to me when I was there.  She had the cutest face, and these big, sad eyes..."

He would have gone on and gone if Brian hadn't interrupted him by holding his left hand up.  "I figured as much."  He stared into Justin's eyes for a few moments before coming to a decision; one that he suspected he would deeply regret, but he knew he could never deny this man anything.  He pressed his lips together, his eyes boring into his lover's as he told him firmly, "You will housetrain that runt, and be solely responsible for its care.  And you will walk it - her - every day, until she's exhausted afterward so she won't have any energy left for...destruction. You will use that obedience training certificate you so cleverly hid in my mail to make sure this dog knows its place. And she will NOT sleep in our bedroom, or have full run of the house, especially my office. During the day, she can stay with you out in your studio. And she will need to be brushed every day. I am NOT going to have her shedding hair like a fucking Shetland pony all over the house, And most of all, you will have that beast spayed as soon as possible; the last thing I want is to be responsible for any further propagation of Cujo's bloodlines..." 

Justin's face lit up, almost blinding him with his smile, as he realized what Brian was saying, and the air was promptly knocked out of him when he was tackled to the mattress and his partner straddled him, quickly subjecting him to soft, butterfly kisses peppering his neck, face, shoulders, and chest.  He thought fleetingly that it felt a lot like Cujo when he licked him, but as his fiancé impatiently shoved his sleep pants down his ankles in between whispers of "thank you, thank you, thank you," and as a certain blond proceeded to kiss and lick him in places where Tricky had never gone before, he quickly decided this was infinitely better.  As passion and desire began to flare within him - just as it always did whenever he and Justin made love - he quickly forgot about the calamity that was no doubt about to enter their lives.