Justin was in a genial mood, that is, until he spied Brian and his crew entering the diner.  A hush fell over the place, as all eyes were riveted on the handsome brunet.  Even he had to admit, that for 7:30 in the freaking morning, the man did look breathtakingly beautiful. 

Brian ran his fingers through his hair, as he took a seat in the usual booth with his entourage.  He grimaced when he noticed that insufferable blond twink behind the counter.  He could feel the younger man staring at him.  It both pleased and irritated him, as he recalled the surprising events at Babylon the other night.

Although Brian was secure in the effect he had on the multitude of fags in the diner, he was acutely cognizant of the blond's relative indifference to him.  He supposed that's what had attracted him to the kid in the first place.  Of course the fact that he was absolutely hot, may have been a factor too.  For whatever reason, Brian surmised the blond didn't approve of him, and seemed to be initiating some sort of challenge by his recent actions. 

'The man has no morals,' Justin seethed, as Brian shot him a self satisfied smirk.  His cocky strut past Justin, left no doubt in his mind what the arrogant prick was up to.  Having witnessed the entire ten second interaction between Kinney and his dark haired trick, their rendezvous in the bathroom was to be expected.  Justin tried to focus on the task at hand, as he poured coffee into a mug for a customer at the counter.  As much as he felt nothing but contempt for the older man right now, his body betrayed him, as his cock stiffened with an involuntary reaction to the close proximity of the self assured cad. 

Justin was furious at himself for feeding Brian's already inflated ego.  However, he discovered that he didn't posses the willpower necessary to avert his gaze from the conceited brunet.  What was it about Brian that made him want to strangle him, and throw himself at his feet at the same time?  Justin was dismayed by the internal struggle that was presently going on inside of him.  He was in need of a distraction from his newfound quandary.  Thank heavens for his midnight caller.  Justin prayed that he would get another phone call from the mystery man tonight. 

If there was a scorekeeper, Brian knew he had surely won this round.  He had purposely flaunted his conquest in front of the blond's glaring blue eyes.  At least he sparked some type of emotion from the twink. 

Brian's mind quickly strayed to his interaction late last night with the young stranger on the phone, who seemed amenable to his subtle advances.  Brian was relieved to be able to lower his mask, and reveal his true self to someone. For even though the blond twink from the diner might think he was an asshole, the young stranger knew that he was more than that.  Brian was comforted by that thought, and it brought him an inner peace.

It had been a long day for Justin, one that was filled with anticipation.  He found himself constantly checking the time, and wishing that he hadn't gone straight home after class.  The five hours till midnight proved to be excruciatingly slow.  He had tried to rest, but couldn't.  He had surfed the TV channels for a decent movie, but had not been successful. 

So Justin stood at the window chain smoking, and blowing puffs of smoke into the air.  He cradled the phone between his chin and neck, while attempting to engage his mother, and then his best friend, in meaningful telephone conversations to pass the time.  His mother was busy, and couldn't talk for long, and Daphne had chatted incessantly.   Justin couldn't even recall half of what she droned on about, because his mind couldn't seem to focus on anything.

11:45, fifteen minutes to go.  Justin lay sprawled across his bed, with the phone securely by his side.  He could detect his heartbeat quickening, as his eyes bore intently into the telephone, willing it to ring.  His fingers anxiously skimmed the receiver, in an effort to rouse it to life.  When it finally vibrated with the sounds of its high pitched ring, Justin felt a fluttering in his gut.  He waited until the third ring to answer.

"Hey Picasso."

"Hey." 

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I was just working on an assignment for school," Justin lied.  He couldn't very well tell the man that he had been waiting by the phone all this time, absolutely desperate for his call.

They proceeded to exchange pleasantries about their respective days.  Brian related anecdotes of an important business meeting with a client, and a brief surprise visit from his two and a half year old son, and his mother. 

Justin loved it when the intriguing stranger spoke about his little boy.  He always emoted such love and pride in his voice.  The man seemed amazed at the child's ability to love him unconditionally, something that Justin sensed had been lacking in the man's personal life.

Justin shared more stories of his close knit family.  But Brian heard the change in the young man's tone, when he discussed his current estrangement from his father.  In an effort to bring back the levity to their conversation, Brian switched the subject.

"By the way, did you choose a name for me?"

"I was wondering when you were going to ask me that."

"Well?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did.  Since you came up with a name related to something about my life, I decided to do that too."

"And what did you come up with?"

"Going by what you've talked about so far, I've made an observation."

"And your observation is...?"

"You're a total snob, and a label freak."

Brian laughed.  "And how ever did you come to that conclusion?"

"Maybe it had something to do with that amusing story you told of your son throwing up on your new designer suit, or maybe because you've mentioned on several occasions that you only buy the best."

Brian immediately became defensive.  How could he expect the kid to understand how the hardships of the past, had made him strive to attain the finer things in life. 

"Since we grew up piss poor, I would say I deserve to splurge on myself now and then," he hurled at the blond.

Justin felt a twinge of regret, and clarified his intent. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing.  I'm merely explaining how I chose your new moniker." 

"Hmmmm...now you've got me curious.  What the fuck is it?" Brian queried.

"Um, well as I was saying before, I've noticed you have a penchant for designer labels.  Hence, I shall hereby refer to you as Versace," Justin pronounced with a trace of sarcastic humor.

"Versace...."  Brian mulled it over for a second.  "I have to say Picasso, that's fucking brilliant."

"Thanks.  Glad to hear that I'm living up to my namesake."

Brian could hear the smile in the young man's voice, even over the phone, and a delightful warmth spread through his body.  They spoke for another hour before Justin confessed that he had to go.  He had a test in his art history class, and he hadn't cracked the book open yet. 

Brian ended the call on an interesting note, by informing Justin that he was going to be responsible for him staying up all night. 

"Why?" Justin questioned naively.

"Let's just say that it's going to be a restless and uncomfortable evening, due to the lascivious thoughts floating around in my head."

"Oh," the blond exclaimed as he realized what the man was alluding to.  Then he added coyly in almost a whisper, "If it makes you feel any better, I think about you too...  Goodnight Versace."

Justin could have sworn he heard an exasperated sigh, just before his mystery man expelled his own parting words. 

"Later, Picasso," Brian vowed in a low breathy voice, dripping with desire.

"Fuck," Justin groaned as he hung up the phone.