Midnight Whispers
QAF Brian and Justin Fanfiction

Chapter One:

“Jeez ... what is wrong with that man ... doesn't he trust us or something?” Melanie, Lindsay’s’ partner, had moaned, as Lindsay put down the phone.

“Well ... we haven't always made it easy for him ... have we?” Lindsay conceded.

“I don't know why you always defend him ... he's hardly been Father of the Year ... and we are letting Gus go down there for most of the summer break.”

“And ... we'll be able to give Jenny Rebecca some quality time to herself with Gus at his father's ... you didn't mind Michael spending time with her over Easter,” reminded Lindsay.

“That was different,” Melanie was at pains to point out. “He came up here ... besides we can trust Michael ... whereas Brian ... “

“Don't you thinks he's paid enough?”

“What? Letting Michael take the blame for something he did?“ shot back Melanie. “But then again we all know Michael's capable of lying to cover Brian's sorry ass. But what if it had been Gus ... he could have killed him ...”

“It wouldn't have happened if he'd had Gus with him ... and besides ... that was then,” Lindsay cut her short. “This is now ... and he's really trying ... you can't deny he loves Gus.”

“Maybe ... but it took long enough for him to remember he had a son,” pointed out Melanie and Lindsay sighed in exasperation.

It would seem her partner would never cut Brian any slack; never accept the father of their child and while it was true that during Gus' early years, Brian wasn't really that much in evidence, he'd always loved his son, even though he couldn't admit it. And, over time, he eventually realized he could be the father he wanted to be, not the father he feared he might be. But by then, it was too late, Melanie and Lindsay had relocated to the great white north and Lindsay always had at the back of her mind that distancing themselves from Brian was the main reason Melanie had pushed for the move. But Lindsay had always been determined that Gus would know his father and she knew how much these visits meant to Brian: especially now.

 

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Two Days Later:

Brian was half way down the path before the cab had come to a halt: he'd been watching out for them the last half-hour. He could have collected them from the airport, but he didn't go out much these days.

“DAD!”

Lindsay had to prevent Gus from leaping out of the car before it stopped. He didn't wait for the door to be opened for him and had the seatbelt off and was out of the vehicle before Brian reached the sidewalk and practically threw himself into his father's arms.

“Whoa there son,” and Brian returned the hug and then pulled back to look at him.

“I swear you've grown another two inches since I last saw you,” smiled Brian and he ruffled the boy's hair. Gus was now eight years old and Brian hadn't seen him since the Spring Term Break.

The cab driver had come around and opened the car door for Lindsay and then retrieved the suitcases and Gus' backpack from the trunk: Brian paid the man.

“Thanks, Lindsay ... I ...” said Brian and he stopped; unable to finish his sentence least he gave away too much and he was afraid in any case that Gus would hear. But he probably wouldn't; not over the noise of the cab as it drove away.

Brian and Lindsay kissed and she stroked his face with the back of her hand.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to this,” she smiled up at him; Brian's beard surprisingly soft to the touch. “Well ... you better get used to it,” stated Brian, matter of factly and then he stooped to pick up the cases that had been deposited on the sidewalk. Gus had already taken charge of his backpack and was walking up the path away from them.

“Dad ... can I go and see Buttons?”

“I think you should get unpacked first,” called his mother, but then she saw the boy's crestfallen look and relented.

“Okay ... go on then ... if it's alright with your dad?” and she looked at Brian.

“He's waiting for you ... you'll find some carrots hanging up …” Brian had to yell after him and he smiled as Gus took off around the back of the house and down to the stables.

Buttons was a six-year old Welsh cross pony; a 12 hands high gelding, chestnut in color and with a star. Brian had bought him for Gus the previous Christmas and had paid for riding lessons: a skill his son had picked up pretty quickly.

Brian took the cases inside the house and deposited them in the hallway and now away from anyone who might see, he turned to Lindsay and gave her a big hug and held on.

When he'd called her two nights before, checking that they were still coming, Lindsay had managed to reassure him that she wouldn't break her promise that he could have Gus over the summer break. And now, standing in the hallway of Brian's house in West Virginia and hugging, he didn't have to say how much he needed this: she'd seen it in his eyes and could feel it in the way he held her.

 

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Three Years Earlier:

“Sonovabitch could have killed you!” stated Debbie Novotny angrily and she stroked Michael's forehead. “Ma ... I keep telling you ... I was driving ... it was an accident.”

“I have a few abrasions ... some bruised ribs and a concussion ... nothing major,” Michael tried to reassure her, but she just wasn't listening to reason.

“Nothing major you say ... look at you!” And he did look a sorry sight, sitting on the edge of the bed, bruised and battered as Ben was helping him to dress and they knew what was going on in Debbie's head.

That Brian was probably drunk or high; out of his skull on something and had insisted on driving them back to the hotel and Michael sighed as he looked up at his husband. “Let's go home,” he pleaded with him and Ben nodded and smiled weakly.

He knew Michael; he knew he was lying and so did Debbie and they all wondered how many times Brian had got behind the wheel after having been partying. But this time, it seemed he'd ridden his luck too far.

 

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Michael owned a comic-book store; something that had been a childhood dream and one Brian had helped make possible by getting him to auction the Captain Astro First Edition comic he'd bought Michael for his thirtieth birthday. $10,000 and bingo; a down payment on Buzzy's Comic Book Store and Michael had become the proud new owner.

Subsequently, Michael had been invited to speak on gay comic book heroes at a convention, but didn't want to go on his own. Unfortunately, his husband, Professor Ben Bruckner, had to attend a residential course from college he couldn't get out of much to his annoyance as this sort of topic was right up his alley. Their foster-son, Hunter, was also at college, which meant he couldn't accompany Michael either, but secretly, Hunter had sighed in relief. He might be into comic books as much as the next young man, but attending a geeky convention wasn't his thing.

Brian knew he'd been neglecting Michael of late; he'd been tied up with work or just hadn't bothered to turn up for dinner when a far more attractive proposition came up. When Michael asked him to go with him, Brian groaned and had tried to refuse, but those big brown eyes pleaded with him so much that Brian had eventually relented, though he was sure he would live to regret it. How right he was.

 

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Michael was glad of the drive there as he had time to kill with Ben and Hunter both being away and besides, he and Brian hadn't spent any time together of late and he was hoping to catch up with his friend. He knew Brian would never say, but he didn't think his friend had had things very easy of late and he wanted him to know he'd be there for him: just like the old times.

The convention was being held in a hotel up north and Brian moaned at the cold and turned the heater in the vette on high. Michael offered to help with the driving, but for some reason Brian wouldn't let him. It would seem that he'd made up his mind he wasn't going to enjoy this weekend after all and nothing Michael could do would shake him out of it.

Things didn't go well from the start. They'd had to set out really early and the weather had been foul and made the journey even longer than planned. Then, when they checked in, they discovered the hotel had over-booked the rooms and the only one available was a double. Brian groaned, but Michael grinned as they dumped their bags on the only bed in the only vacant room.

“You promise to keep to your own side?” Brian asked him.

“I am a married man remember,” reminded Michael, feigning shock at Brian's suggestion that he might take advantage of the situation.

“And you better remember that,” came back Brian. “I don't want that husband of yours coming after me with a shotgun.”

Brian was more than a little pissed. He'd hoped he might find a little action while they were up here to break the monotony and always preferred that guys came to his territory, but sharing a room with Michael might make that difficult.

They registered at the convention later that afternoon and spent the time before dinner wandering around the stalls that had already been set up and looking at the comic books and Brian found his attitude softening a little.

Batman, Superman, Captain Astro and more: all those familiar comic book heroes from his childhood, bringing back the few good memories he had of those times. Times spent in Michael's bedroom since they were both 14, as they poured over the stories, His friend had acted them out, taking them away from that little place into a fantastic wonderland where heroes in capes and tights would swoop down and save them from monsters and villains and how often had Brian wished that might actually happen.

More than once had Michael's bedroom been his sanctuary when Brian needed to escape his own home. An abusive, drunken father and a cold-hearted mother had left him bruised and feeling both unloved and unwanted; feelings compounded by a father who repeated, on a regular basis, just how much he wished Brian had never been born and that he'd actually wanted him aborted. How Brian had longed for a caped crusader to come and carry him away to his lair and take care of him forever. But life was never going to be like that.

 

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Michael kept on talking at the dinner table and Brian found he'd consumed a couple of whiskeys and two bottles of wine all to himself, with Michael sticking to Pepsi: making the excuse of needing a clear head to give his talk in the morning. Brian wasn't really conscious of how much he was drinking, telling himself he deserved to relax and wind down a little, but was that the real reason, or was his large consumption of alcohol just because Brian was trying to block out Michael's inane conversation?

Brian looked around the dining room. Things were starting to look a little fuzzy, but he saw a few guys in pairs and one or two on their own and one or two not half bad. Seems like Michael's talk on gay comic book heroes might just have brought in the odd tasty morsel, but now he was too tired after their long drive and a little too wasted to be of much use to anyone and with Michael's assistance, Brian made it back up to their room.

His friend undressed him and rolled him into bed, but not before Michael had guiltily surveyed the other man's body and ashamedly, Michael looked away before undressing down to tee and shorts and climbing in beside him, making sure he kept to his side of the bed.

Christ. He'd hoped he'd gotten over those feelings. Even at 14, Brian was beautiful. A little geeky maybe, but those hazel eyes had just swallowed him up and, as he'd gotten older, Brian grew more beautiful each day and Michael had once hoped that Brian would return the feelings he had for his friend. But unfortunately, Brian's feelings for Michael had never been anything more than friendship.

Michael knew Brian used him as a crutch. After all, he provided all the emotional support the other man needed, while Brian went elsewhere for sex and probably enjoyed the way his friend hung on his every word: almost worshipped Brian.

But then if Michael wanted to waste his life in the vain hope that one day Brian might have feelings for him; kidding himself the man might one day feel the same way he did, then that was hardly Brian's fault.

 

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Not surprisingly, Brian didn't want breakfast the next morning and made do with the coffee Michael made in their room. Michael showered first while Brian was coming to and after his second cup of strong, if disgusting coffee, Brian heaved himself up out of bed and wandered into the bathroom to take a pee. Michael was cleaning his teeth at the sink as Brian pulled off his shorts to step into the shower. Quickly, Michael turned his back.

“Oh come on Mikey ... it's not like you haven't seen it before,” Brian reminded his friend as he stepped inside the stall. Trying not to blush, Michael smiled weakly and pulled his robe around him tightly and, grabbing his toilet bag, headed back out to the bedroom and closed the bathroom door behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed as he heard the shower start to run.

Michael had dressed before Brian came out of the bathroom and decided to go down to breakfast by himself. He yelled at Brian through the closed bathroom door, making the man promise he would come down and hear his talk. Brian promised he would, but Michael frowned. He knew this weekend wasn't really Brian's thing and would not be surprised if he didn't bother to turn up and couldn't help smiling when he saw Brian walk into the conference room just before he was about to get up and make his speech. Brian looked great: it was amazing what a couple of cups of coffee and a shower could do.

Brian knew he hadn't really behaved well the night before, getting drunk at dinner and tuning out to what Michael was saying. But in fact it was hard to admit that he was actually a little jealous of him and what he had. Even more so since Gus had moved away.

Brian had even tested the waters himself a little just lately, but he had a reputation that it seemed no one wanted him to forget.

He was Brian Kinney; stud of Liberty Avenue. Not the marrying or settling down kind. And most guys took one look at him and saw him as just someone who wanted to fuck them; knowing that a man who looked like Brian could have anyone, so why would he want to settle for just one guy? So Brian's odd attempts at coupledome had left him feeling a little used and just a little more sad and lonely and yes, he was a little jealous of what Michael had.

Michael was now married to a man he loved and had a foster-son and although Brian had a child of his own by his long time friend, Lindsay; a girl he'd met in college, he'd never really bothered to play much of a part in his son's life. Had never thought he'd be any good at it until recently.

But following several homophobic attacks and particularly nasty ones at that in Pittsburgh, Melanie and Lindsay had decided to take their kids and move up to Toronto. Same-sex marriages were recognized up there and in actual fact, Michael and Ben had taken advantage of that when they were up there the year before. Though of course it didn't mean a damn thing once they crossed the border back into the US. But the men had never regretted doing it and had the piece of paper to prove that somewhere at least, their union was officially recognized.

And knowing that up in Canada at least, their kids wouldn't be looked down on or treated with contempt just because they had two moms, Melanie and Lindsay had moved their family up there. Their daughter, Jenny Rebecca, was Michael's, born this time to Melanie. But unlike Brian, Michael made frequent trips to TO in order to spend time with his child; Melanie always making him welcome whereas she always abused Brian and held him in little regard.

At first, Brian had agreed to the girls moving away, but then realized just what he was giving up. But as Lindsay pointed out, making them stay in the Pitts wouldn't make up for all those years he hadn't been around in his son's life and so Brian had bitten the bullet and agreed not to object to them taking his son to another country; just at the point when he knew he wanted to play a bigger part in Gus' life and in his upbringing. But Lindsay promised him that Gus would know his dad and Brian had kept her to that.

The loft he lived in had once been described as a fuck-pad and Brian realized it was hardly the place to bring a young child back to. His advertising company, Kinnetik, was doing well and Ted Schmidt, friend and accountant, had told him he should invest some of his money. What better than in bricks and mortar.

The house in West Virginia had started out as just that; an investment. But with stables and swimming pool and plenty of ground around it, it made an ideal home for when Gus came to stay and Brian wanted that to happen as often as possible. The first visit back, Brian had been a little nervous of having Gus all on his own for the week, but with help from Debbie, who was after all, practically Gus' grandmother and who put him right on a few questions he had, the stay had been a huge success for both father and son and Gus had enjoyed all his trips when either Lindsay would bring him down or they'd worked it out so that he could travel with Michael when he went up to see Jenny Rebecca. Subsequently, Gus was in danger of accumulating plenty of his own frequent flyer miles.

The house was also a perfect venue to host any potential out-of-town clients; especially when Brian wanted to impress and give them a relaxed atmosphere in which, hopefully, to seal a contract.

Of course he knew he couldn't have guys back to the house when Gus was with him, but that was okay. The rest of the time he would continue to live at the loft nearer the office and take guys there and now, looking at his watch, Brian was beginning to wish that's exactly where he was.

Michael began his talk and Brian tried to look interested, but it wasn't long before his attention started to wander as he began to get bored. But then things started to perk up as he made a connection and found he'd caught the eye of a rather cute brunet in his mid-twenties who was sitting in the same row and who motioned to Brian to join him outside. Brian smiled; maybe this weekend wouldn't turn out a total loss after all.

 

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The guy introduced himself as Kyle: “Whatever,” answered Brian, not bothering to give his own name. They fucked in a stall in the men's room and the guy asked Brian if he were staying at the hotel. Brian said yes, but don't expect second helpings. Sure he was cute, but Brian didn't do anyone twice. He'd tried to get to know someone better on a few occasions recently and hadn't been taken seriously. So why bother? Why should he? After all, there were just too many guys and not enough time.

“A client of mine's got a house not too far from here ... he's having a party tonight ... wanna come?” asked Kyle, as both men dressed themselves. “I could write down the address.”

“Okay,” Brian answered him and took the business card Kyle had written the address down on.

“Kyle Robinson ... Maitland Advertising of Cleveland?” asked Brian as he read the company name on the card. “Sure,“ answered Kyle and Brian smiled. “Looks like we've more in common than I thought,” and he handed Kyle one of his own cards: Kyle was impressed.

“Whose party is this?” Brian then asked him, his mind already working overtime. Maybe he could mix a little business with pleasure and pick up some new contacts for Kinnetik. Perhaps this weekend would be worth something after all.

Back in the conference room, Michael couldn't help but see Brian disappear from the room with the guy following closely behind him. Obviously, something had come up that was far more important than listening to his talk and maybe this was just too much like old times.

 

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“Come with me, Mikey ... I came here with you,“ and Brian put his arms around Michael and drew him in. “You ran out on me,” Michael reminded him. “But I came back,” Brian pointed out. “And I promise I'll spend all day tomorrow with you ... reliving our youth.”

“You only want me to come so I can drive you back.”

“What am I gonna do while you're getting laid?” snorted Michael.

“But how am I ever going to meet the man of my dreams if I keep turning down invitations?” asked Brian and he tilted his head to one side and smiled and Michael sighed: he could never refuse Brian anything when he turned on the charm.

In the end, Brian promised him they'd only stay an hour, so Michael agreed to go with him, though he knew it was highly likely they'd be there all night.

 

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The house was large and set in grounds out of town and all the lights were on and the music was blaring when they arrived: just as well there were no close neighbors or the cops would probably have been called.

The owner turned out to be none other than Harry Walker, CEO of Harvest Produce, one of the biggest fruit processing companies in the country.

“Well ... this is a pretty nice set up you've got here.”

“Harry,” replied their host, smiling and he and Brian shook hands.

“Kyle called ... seems like you and he are in the same business ... maybe we could talk later.”

“To be honest I think the business needs a more imaginative advertising strategy ... but in the meantime ... feel free to explore ... I think you'll find something to your liking,” and he laughed and slapped the ass of a young man that walked by.

Brian nodded and looked around. Several young men, obviously meant to be waiters, but dressed only in bow ties and loin cloths, were passing among the crowd and handing out drinks. But on the trays were little dishes of rather interesting looking pills and something that was probably coke and not the fizzy kind. Brian smiled and introduced Michael.

“Michael will have to refrain I'm afraid ... he's a married man up here for the comic book convention ... I'm just keeping him company.”

“There's a few comic book geeks ... no offense Michael ... here tonight ... maybe you can find someone to have a conversation with instead ... but have a drink in the meantime.”

“Just Pepsi for me,” stated Michael. “I'm driving,” and Harry called over a waiter and ordered Michael's drink. “Why don't you come with me Brian ... a discerning man like you ... I think there's a few young men here who might be of interest,” and he took Brian by the arm.

“You obviously have Michael trained well,” he stated once out of the other man's earshot.

“What can I say ... he's a sweetheart ... do anything for me,” answered Brian and Harry laughed as he took Brian into the next room.

 

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Michael took his drink from the waiter and sighed and looked around. There were couples making out and one or two groups of up to about five men in each; all fawning over a young man and divesting him of his clothing.

Absentmindedly, Michael wandered in the direction that Harry had taken Brian and it wasn't too long before he found him; lying on a chaise lounge, already half-naked with three very beautiful young men attending to his every need. Michael sighed and turned around and headed for the nearest exit and took his drink out onto the patio; taking a seat next to one of the outdoor heaters.

 

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Michael managed to find a couple of guys who shared his passion for comic books, but none of them were much interested in talking and then, to his surprise, two hours later, Brian appeared at his side.

“Are you ready Mikey?” he asked him. “You wanna leave ... already?” asked his friend, unable to believe Brian was wanting to go and it was just after midnight. “I've had anyone here worth having,” came the response and Michael got up from his seat as Brian swallowed the last of his beer and put the empty bottle down on the nearest table.

Turning around sharply, Brian bumped into Kyle. “Whoa there,” said the other man. “Little too much to drink huh? ... I guess you older guys can't put it away like you used to,” and before Brian could answer, Kyle had turned away and disappeared through the crowd.

“What's his problem?” asked Michael and Brian frowned. “He's pissed 'cos I wouldn't fuck him twice.”

“Older guy ... who the fuck does he think he is?” and Brian made to go after him, but Michael took him by the arm.

“It's not worth getting into a fight over,” he stated and he steered Brian away. Maybe his friend had taken a drink or two and may even have sampled a little of the other substances on offer, but at 34, Brian could hold his own with any man 10 years his junior.

“Did you get to talk to Harry?” asked Michael and Brian nodded. “Just a little ... I got his number and he's made an appointment to come down to the Pitts.”

“Just as well I got to him when I did ... I'll be lucky if he remembers our conversation ... he looked like he was going to get too tweaked to know what he's doing before long.”

They walked out of the house and down the steps and Michael stopped by the driver's door of the vette and held out his hand and Brian looked at him.

“Keys,” reminded Michael.

“You don't have to drive Mikey ... I only had one drink.”

“And?” Michael asked him. “And that's all,” answered Brian, a little peeved that Michael was doubting his word.

“You are kidding me?” said his friend disbelievingly and Brian shook his head. “Nope ... one drink ... Scout's honor .. I'd planned to talk business with Harry,” and he held up his hand in a mock salute. Michael narrowed his eyes. Brian seemed okay and if he said he'd only had one drink and nothing more, who was he to disbelieve him and walking around to the passenger door, Michael got in.

A mile down the road and Brian wound down the window. “Christ ... Brian ... it's freezing,” moaned Michael and he drew his coat around him and reached for the heater. But Brian was becoming warmer ... too warm in fact and he'd started to sweat. He blinked and drew the back of his hand across his eyes as the road ahead started to blur and then double vision set in and he started to get the shakes: Brian tried in vain to clear his head.

The vette swerved alarmingly and Michael looked over at him. “I thought you hadn't been drinking,” and though he could detect the smell of alcohol on Brian, it could just be the result of being in the heavy atmosphere of the house leaving a lingering scent. Or was Brian's erratic driving caused by something else?

“Brian ... what are you on ... what have you taken?” demanded Michael, now alarmed and he grabbed the wheel as the car hit the curb with Brian looking as if he were about to pass out.

Michael pulled the wheel hard and yelled, but it was too late. Luckily they were both wearing their seat belts, but when the car bounced up off the curb and hit the tree by the side of the road, Brian's head made contact with the side window and then all the windows shattered as the vehicle came to rest. Michael had realized what was going to happen and had braced himself, but his head hit the door frame and he suffered a few cuts and felt the pain in his ribs as miraculously, the vette stayed upright and wedged against the tree.

There was silence and then Brian moaned. Michael may have lost consciousness for a moment, but he was soon alert to their situation. At least he couldn't smell gasoline, so hopefully, they weren't in any imminent danger of the vehicle catching fire and he looked over at Brian.

They both needed medical attention, the vette was a write-off and obviously the Police would be involved as well as the insurance company. Thank God no one else was involved and Michael reached for his cell phone and then he hesitated: he could see car headlights in the distance and knew it wouldn't be long before they had company.

Carefully, his ribs hurting like hell, he managed to climb out of the car and make his way around to the other side of the vehicle. Using all his strength, he yelped in pain as he wrenched open the driver's door.

“Move over,” he yelled at Brian, but the man didn't react.

“MOVE OVER!” Michael yelled louder and vacantly, Brian turned to look at him. Michael didn't like what he saw: Brian's eyes were glazed and he obviously couldn't comprehend what was being said to him. He also had several deep lacerations along his cheek, jawbone and neck from the broken side window; the blood soaking into his coat.

Michael looked down the road; the car whose lights he'd seen would soon be upon them and so he lowered himself into the vette and forcibly pushed Brian over onto the passenger side. Michael had made up his mind, when the Police came he would say he was driving; that he swerved to avoid an animal and wrecked the vette: that it was an accident and if he were found in the driver's seat it would be far more plausible. He knew that when they did the blood tests, something was bound to show up in Brian's system and if it could be proved he'd been driving while incapable it could end up with a prosecution: Brian would lose his license and it could have an adverse effect on his business if he was found to have been driving while drunk or high, but if everyone believed Michael had been driving it could go down as an unfortunate accident.

 

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Michael slid off the bed and got gingerly to his feet and with Ben supporting him, sat down in the wheelchair; his mother picked up his belongings and they made their way out the door.

“Wait ... I have to see Brian,” stated Michael, but his mom pointed his finger at him. “You're doing no such thing, Michael Charles Novotny."

“I knew that guy was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him when you were both 14 ... and he's never proven me wrong yet ... he can sort his own problems out.”

Michael looked up at Ben, who shrugged at him. With Debbie in this mood, it would be all hell to pay to ignore her instructions and without stopping by Brian's room, they left the hospital.

 

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Brian was turned away from the door and what little of his face Vic could see, he knew how upset the man was and he heard Brian sniff.

Brian blinked as he heard the chair scrape across the floor and slowly turned over and was taken aback at finding Vic there, but his first concern was for Michael.

“How's Mikey ... do you have any news?” Brian asked, urgently. “He's okay ... they discharged him ... Ben and Debbie took him home,” answered Vic and Brian managed to nod, despite the heavy bandaging around his face and neck.

“Surprised to see you here,” Brian admitted. “I thought you'd want nothing to do with me,” he stated hoarsely and Vic raised an eyebrow. “I thought Michael was driving,” he said knowingly and then he put his hand on Brian's arm.

“I know when Michael's lying ... but luckily the Police don't,” said Vic quietly.

“He told them he'd swerved to avoid a deer and wrecked the vette ... they believed him ... no one else was involved so it's been written up as an accident,” and then Vic sighed.

“Were you wasted? Had you taken something?” he asked him and Brian hesitated and then shrugged.

“I didn't think so ... I mean ... I only remember having one drink ... nothing else.”

“But they say I had enough pharmaceuticals in my blood to stop a horse ... so ... I ... I guess I must have,” and Brian closed his eyes.

How could he have been that fucking stupid? He wasn't a kid any longer; he had a child and a successful business with a multi-million dollar turnover and people who relied on him for their employment and yet he was still going out and getting high. He'd put himself and anyone else who might have been on the road that night at risk and, worse still, he could have killed his best friend.

Vic got up and took off his coat and put it over the back of the chair and sat down again. Brian looked at him questioningly. “Someone's gotta stick around and make sure you're okay,” he answered him and made himself comfortable: Vic was obviously in for the long haul and Brian felt a lump form in his throat.

Brian didn't have much recollection of being brought to the hospital. He could vaguely remember the flashing lights and the sound of the sirens and being helped from the car, but then nothing more until he was being examined. And then they'd then given him a shot of something and he hadn't remembered anything else until he heard Michael calling his name.

As soon as he was allowed, Michael had insisted the nurse take him in to see Brian, though his friend was barely conscious at the time. Michael had taken his hand and Brian had stirred. “Well at least I didn't kill you,” stated Michael for the benefit of the nurse and anyone else who might be listening and Brian had tried to make sense of what he was saying.

Though he couldn't really remember too much about the crash, he did have a strong impression that he'd been driving, not Michael. But from the man's words and the expression on his face, it seemed he didn't want Brian to say very much and then the doctor had come in and given Brian the results of the blood test.

There had been enough chemicals in his system to stock a drugstore and slowly, Brian realized what Michael was doing. He was taking the blame for the accident; letting everyone know that he was driving and not Brian and Brian closed his eyes and with the pain killers still taking effect, he drifted off back to sleep. The next time he woke up, there was a Highway Patrolman standing over him.

Not for one moment did the officer think Michael would take the rap for a wreck he wasn't responsible for and so when Brian said he couldn't remember anything after Michael had driven them away from the party, the Patrolman just nodded and filled out the necessary forms.

But since the accident, four days ago, no one had come to see Brian and when he asked how Michael was and was informed that his friend's family had arrived, Brian thought that Debbie would come bustling in, mothering him and making sure things were okay. But, when she didn't, it began to dawn on him slowly that she knew he'd been driving, not Michael: had believed that Brian had probably been out of his head and nearly killed her son and no mother could forgive that.

 

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Initially, the hospital staff had asked him who they should contact and Brian thought the only one who would really want to know was Lindsay. But Gus wasn't very well and Lindsay didn't really want to leave him. Melanie didn't give two hoots, and after a quick conversation with Brian to ascertain that none of his injuries were life-threatening, Lindsay had sent her love and said she'd get down to see him as soon as Gus was better.

Brian didn't tell her that he'd suffered facial injuries and the phonecall was the last he'd heard from her.

 

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Vic stayed all night and then the following morning went to the hotel, paid Brian's bill and collected his things. Ben had already collected Michael's bag and then Vic had returned to the hospital in time for when the doctor came round to see Brian again.

“We hope to transfer you later today,” the doctor informed Brian as he took off the bandages to check out his handiwork. It was a relatively small country hospital with limited facilities. Brian would have to go back to the city for the plastic surgery required to repair the deep scars on his face.

Brian had asked if Vic could stay while the bandages were being removed. He trusted Vic and could do with the support right now, even though he didn't like to admit it. The men had always been friends and he'd known Vic since he was 14, as he was Debbie's younger brother and also gay.

Vic smiled and agreed. He liked Brian; he'd always reminded him of himself and, as an older gay man, Vic had been the one both his nephew and Brian had turned to in their teenage years in order to try and make some sense of it all. But Brian couldn't help but see the flicker of dismay that had appeared momentarily on Vic's face as the bandages were removed and Brian demanded a mirror.

“You do realize these are only a temporary measure,” the doctor sought to reassure him and Brian thought for one moment he was going to throw up as he looked at his reflection; he'd never thought it would look like this.

Being constantly told by unloving parents that he'd never amount to anything, he'd striven to be as successful in business as he could. Brian's choice of advertising as a career had been obvious: one thing he knew was the value of a good presentation and to Brian, how he looked had always been how he'd measured his own worth.

He may have never felt any love from his family, but he knew his looks could get him all the men he'd ever desired; that had never been a problem. Guys at least had always made him feel wanted: loved even, at least for the next ten minutes. But who would want him now, looking like this?

But maybe this was his punishment for taking one risk too many and nearly killing Michael; the one friend who had always been there for him.

Michael had gone to the clubs and bars with him, keeping him company until Brian found his trick of the night or would drive him home when he was too stoned to do so himself. He propped him up and put him to bed when Brian turned up drunk after visiting his father; the man who always made him feel utterly worthless, but who was quite willing to take his money when he didn't have enough to last until next payday.

Michael was always there, supporting him and telling him just how great he looked and how wonderful he was and how had he repaid him.

The doctor made a few notes on his clipboard and told Brian they would inform him about transferring hospitals and Brian had nodded, but immediately after the doctor left the room, he threw back the bedclothes and swung himself out of bed.

“Vic ... pass me my clothes,” he instructed and Vic looked at him. “What are you doing ...” but before he could continue, Brian got rather unsteadily to his feet. It took him a moment to get his sea-legs and Vic got up to steady him. “I want my clothes,“ Brian instructed him again.

“You're taking me home.”

Vic tried to protest but Brian shook his head and the older man knew Brian just wasn't listening. Reluctantly, Vic retrieved Brian's clothing from the bag he'd brought from the hotel. The clothing from the accident had been ruined and subsequently destroyed and he now helped the man to dress.

Apart from the facial lacerations, Brian's injuries were the same as Michael's, but he was still finding it difficult to breathe and he had to sit back down while Vic helped him on with his shirt. Then, ignoring the doctor's protestations, Brian discharged himself: he had no intention of being transferred to another hospital.

Vic was carrying Brian's bag and now hesitated and rubbed his chin as they started to walk down the hall and then he took Brian by the elbow and brought him to a halt.

“You know ... I wanna ask the doctor something before we leave.”

Brian sighed as Vic dropped the bag on the floor and indicated a chair. Brian started to protest, but Vic was pretty determined about this and made his way back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Is there anything he needs ... anything I can do for him?” Vic asked and the doctor nodded. “Just be there for him ... I get the feeling he doesn't like asking for assistance ... so he's gonna need someone.”

“And it's not unusual for people to refuse follow up treatment right away,“ he continued. “Sometimes they need to think about it all ... but in the meantime he'll need plenty of rest ... you may also want to get him to think about counseling.”

“Other than that ... the stitches will need to be removed in a couple of days ... but you can do that for him if he doesn't want to see anyone at this time.”

“He could do it himself ... though where the lacerations are may make this a bit difficult ... come with me and I'll get you a suture removal kit.”

Going to the store room, the doctor retrieved the small kit comprised of forceps and a tiny pair of scissors. He also gave him some painkillers.

“If there's any sign of infection or you're worried about anything ... take him to your nearest hospital ... that would be ... “

“Allegheny General,” informed Vic and the doctor nodded.

“I know the scars look bad now ... but with some work ... it's pretty amazing what can be achieved these days.”

“Tell him I said good luck,” and the doctor smiled at Vic and returned to his duties.

Brian was beginning to get impatient: the sooner he got out of the hospital the better and Vic saw the relief in his face as he joined him in the hallway. Stopping Brian from stooping down to gather up his bag, Vic retrieved it for him and took him out to the car and drove away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Initially, Vic thought Brian would want to return to the loft, but that was far too close to everyone and he'd asked Vic to take him out to the house instead and for the moment, he would have to make do with what he'd taken to the hotel for the convention.

Brian had dozed on and off during the journey and had fully expected Vic to turn around and drive away straight after depositing him at the house, but Vic had taken Brian's bag and helped him inside. Despite Brian's initial reluctance, he'd allowed Vic to take him upstairs and put him to bed. Brian hesitated for a moment and then frowned when Vic held out the painkillers and glass of water and he wondered just what he and the doctor had discussed behind his back.

But inwardly, Brian had to admit that it actually felt good to have at least one person looking out for him and he took the tablets and washed them down with the water. It didn't take long until Brian had fallen asleep.

Instead of just abandoning him there, Vic had taken Brian's keys. He'd checked the kitchen; it had obviously been quite a while since Brian had been at the house as there was no food in the refrigerator or cupboards and Vic started to mentally compile a list of the things he needed.

His first stop though was the loft and he collected everything he thought Brian might require, including the laptop that had been left on his desk. Then Vic went down to the grocery store and picked up the provisions and necessities that would last Brian at least for a few days and then he drove back out to West Virginia.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian didn't hear Vic let himself back into the house and was still dozing when the man came upstairs later with the tray.

Slowly, Brian became conscious of someone standing over him. “Mikey?” he whispered. “No ... it's Vic,” stated the other man gently; he'd put the tray down on the dresser and now helped Brian sit up.

“You should eat something,” and Vic retrieved the tray and placed it on the bed. “It's only chicken soup ... won't take much to get it down.”

Slowly, Brian picked up the spoon, he didn't have the strength to refuse and in actual fact, started to realize just how hungry he was.

“Careful ... it's still a little hot,” Vic cautioned and Brian took a tentative mouthful.

“It's good,” he stated and Vic watched as Brian ate.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian slept for the rest of the day and most of the next; a little more relaxed now away from the hospital and in his own house. Then, the following morning, Vic found him standing in front of the bathroom mirror; doing nothing: just staring at his reflection.

“The doc said those stitches could come out right about now,” stated Vi. “He even gave me the right things to use ... save you going back to the hospital,” and he disappeared into his own room and came back a few minutes later and held out the suture removal kit to Brian.

Brian hesitated. “I can do it if you like,” offered Vic, but Brian shook his head and took the kit from him and turned back to the mirror.

Slowly, Brian opened the kit and took out the instruction leaflet. All you had to do was grasp the knot of the stitch with the forceps and cut right below the knot; ensuring you didn't drag the exposed suture through the wound.

Brian was still shaky and combined with trying to see what he was doing in the mirror, tried a couple of times to work the forceps and scissors, but without any success; getting frustrated with himself and angry for allowing his nerves to get the better of him and in front of Vic.

“Here ... let me,” offered Vic again and he held out his hand. Brian hesitated for a moment and then handed Vic the forceps and scissors: keeping still, Brian allowed Vic to remove the sutures for him. He was expecting it to hurt and was almost disappointed that it didn't. It would serve him right if it had.

Vic stood back to admire his handiwork. “The doc says it's amazing what they can do now,” he ventured, but Brian ignored the remark and looked back in the mirror. He was grateful for Vic's help and while it was good to have someone to look out for him, he still didn't like the fact that Vic had been discussing him with the doctor. It made him feel useless; pathetic and hated the thought that he couldn't cope.

“Talking about me behind my back,” said Brian flatly and in the mirror, he saw Vic's embarrassed expression. Brian closed his eyes: the man was only trying to do right by him and as Vic went to walk away; thinking Brian was probably best left on his own right now, Brian turned and called after him.

“Vic ... I ... I never really thanked you for sticking by me ... I know I'm not going to be easy to be around right now,” and he saw Vic chuckle. “Okay ... when have I ever been easy?” conceded Brian, unable to resist smiling himself. “Thanks ... I ... I do appreciate it ... you being here.”

Vic smiled in acknowledgment and left Brian on his own: for someone who'd made it a policy of staying true to himself and never apologizing for his actions, that was one hell of an admission.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The only one who seemed not to be judging Brian was Vic and he'd gone back to the house he shared with his sister to collect some of his things and moved into one of Brian's spare rooms. Debbie had been furious; calling him a Judas and virtually disowning him. Vic was sure that his sister would eventually calm down, but he was glad to be out of that household and actually pitied Michael, who was bound not to hear the end of her griping that his uncle was siding with the enemy.

Vic was the only one who seemed concerned about Brian's welfare and as he'd recently been looking for alternative accommodation, moving into Brian's was the ideal solution: Debbie had asked her boyfriend to move in with her and Vic didn't feel like playing gooseberry.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Vic had been staying at Brian's now for a few weeks. The first week, Brian had spent a lot of time in bed, recuperating, but had then begun getting up, but spending most of his days in the living room in front of the TV; an activity that was very un-Brian-like.

Vic cooked for him, not that Brian had much of an appetite and cleaned the house and did the laundry. Brian had given up telling him not to bother, because the man obviously wasn't taking any notice of him and he decided that Vic would probably get bored on his own account and eventually leave him alone. Lucky for Brian, Vic didn't.

Michael wasn't returning Brian's calls: none of his friends were and with everyone but Vic shunning him, Brian felt as isolated and lonely now as he had as a child: before he'd met Michael. It seemed practically everyone was of the same opinion; that Brian had been driving while under the influence and his recklessness and downright stupidity had put his friend in danger: a situation that could have cost Michael his life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A few weeks later, Debbie's boyfriend, Lt. Carl Horvath, managed to obtain the Highway Patrolman's report. It had been completed perfectly, which in itself was no small miracle, but the upshot was that to all intents and purposes, it had been a straight forward accident and nothing more.

Debbie hurrumphed and refused to accept it: she knew her son and she knew when he was lying and eventually, his mom wore him down and Michael finally admitted that Brian had been driving and Debbie told Carl she wanted the Police to press charges. Carl looked at her and sighed and asked her if she really meant that and Debbie nodded. “You bet your ass I do!”

But then Carl reminded her that Brian himself had sustained the worst injuries and that no other vehicle had been involved. But more significantly, the little matter of Michael making a false report to the Patrolman when he'd made the statement that'd he'd been driving at the time of the accident might not look too good for him and that maybe Brian had been punished enough.

Debbie had sighed. Carl was right, Michael could get into a whole load of trouble for lying, but she would make damn sure Brian would pay, but Vic hadn't really taken on board just how much the family had ostracized Brian and how hard the man was hurting, until he came back one evening from his volunteer work at the Liberty House hospice.

It was late and the TV was still on and Vic looked in to say goodnight and hoping to possibly get Brian to go to bed himself and was dismayed to discover that the man had been hitting the hard stuff and was obviously very angry about something and practically in tears.

Vic didn't try and stop him from taking another drink, he knew that would only annoy Brian more and instead sat down beside him and took himself the drink he was offered.

“They won't let me talk to him,” Brian had said eventually; his voice breaking and Vic nodded. “Don't worry ... they'll come around ... I can't see Michael ignoring you forever.”

Brian shook his head. “Not Mikey ... Gus,” spat Brian and he took another swallow of his drink.

“I called ... asked to talk to my son ... but it seems like someone got in first ... and I bet I know who that fucking bitch was.”

“Just the excuse Mel needed to tell me I could no longer be part of my son's life.”

“She's always hated me ... she knows I've always been close to Lindsay and this was just what she needed to keep them away from me,” and he threw the remainder of his drink down this throat.

It hadn't taken long for Brian to realize that Debbie would eventually wear Michael down so much that he'd tell her the truth: that Brian had been driving at the time of the crash, not him and she probably thought he should be grateful they hadn't told the authorities.

The tears that Brian had been holding back threatened to spill over and Vic reached out and put his hand at the back of Brian's neck; rubbing it gently. Christ; talk about kicking a man when he's down and he took the empty glass out of Brian's hand and set it down on the coffee table.

“It's still early ... things will cool off when people have calmed down,” but Vic wasn't sure even he believed his own words and he was damned sure Brian didn't.

Brian felt like he'd been kicked in the gut; the thought that he might never see his son again overwhelming and on top of everything else.

He could probably have weathered being treated like an outcast by most people he'd thought were his friends, but being ignored by Michael hurt like hell. He knew he hadn't spent as much time with him as he could since Ben had been around, but at least Michael had always been there when he needed him. But now, when he needed him the most; when he wasn't even allowed access to his own son; his best friend shunned him along with the rest.

Vic heaved Brian up off the sofa; he knew the man's ribs must still be a bit sore, but with the amount of alcohol he'd consumed, Brian didn't feel it and half-walking, half being carried by Vic, he was taken upstairs where Vic undressed him down to his underwear and put him to bed: Brian probably didn't even realize he was still crying when he fell asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A couple of months later and Brian's ribs and bruises were healed, but he'd been unable to shave owing to the unevenness of his flesh and the tenderness he was still experiencing. He looked at his reflection in the mirror: he'd not bothered to tidy himself up of late, but he needed to get back at least a little self-respect and making himself presentable; even though he intended going nowhere, was a start.

“That suits you,” stated Vic. The bathroom door had been open as he'd passed by and he stopped; he could see Brian standing in front of the mirror and trimming his beard and Brian smiled weakly as Vic carried on with what he was doing.

After he'd finished, Brian stood back and studied himself; the beard was now neat and tidy and not half bad, but he could feel the scars beneath and still refused to even consider the surgery that would remove them; they served to remind him of his stupidity.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian found he didn't have the heart or the enthusiasm to go back into the office and it didn't help that Ted, who had become a good friend before the accident as well as being the company accountant, was also one of Michael's best friends. Whenever Brian called in, Ted had always been decidedly cool towards him; Brian could hear the hostility in the man's voice and whereas in the past he would have said: 'Fuck 'em ... I'm the boss ... who the hell do they think they are?' since the accident, his nerves were shot to pieces.

It was bad enough that Vic had seen the scars and not just the physical ones at that; he couldn't let anyone else see how badly he'd been affected by the accident and by what people thought of him and increasingly, Brian began to take a backseat in the business; handing more and more over to Ted and Cynthia, his PA.

Brian hardly ventured out of the house now except to walk on the grounds: the TV and the internet his only outlets, apart from jerking off in the showers.

Vic did his best to encourage Brian to socialize, but the man just shook his head and Vic could see how Brian was starting to retreat inside himself; hardly talking at all: not even to him and avoided making contact with anyone else.

“Brian ... you can't go on like this ... even you must see that,” Vic had stated one evening after dinner and when Brian had practically eaten nothing: again. He'd lost weight, despite the fact that he was doing very little, if any, physical exercise.

“Maybe you should see someone.”

“I'm not going to no fucking shrink,” came back the answer and Vic sighed and then got up and retrieved a notebook and pencil from the kitchen drawer and he dropped them down in front of Brian.

“I know you've got a lot of anger and frustration just burning you up inside ... and I know you've never found it easy to talk about how you feel.”

Brian frowned; unsure of where this conversation was heading and then Vic continued.

“Why don't you write down how you're feeling ... then maybe you can work out where you're headed,” and he patted Brian's shoulder and collected the dirty dishes from the table and took them over to the dishwasher.

Brian sighed and picked up the pencil and rolled it around in his fingers. What the hell was Vic on about; wanting him to write down how he was feeling. But the man was right; he'd never been able to verbally communicate his emotions; always seeing any display of sentimentality or words of kindness as a sign of weakness.

For a born copywriter, in this instance, Brian found putting words on paper incredibly difficult; as if even he were too ashamed or confused to get his feelings out in the open. Initially, he began to doodle on the page and gradually, the doodles began to form words.

Friendship

Betrayal

Love

Father

Son

Pain

And then Brian drew a line through the words and then another and another; his pencil moving quickly now over the paper until all the words were obliterated and he sat back in his chair and he frowned.

He remembered the last three words he'd written: Father, son, pain. Brian had hoped so much not to repeat the experiences of his childhood with his own son, but now it would seem he wouldn't get the chance to be a real father to Gus and then Brian got up from his chair and walked upstairs.

Gus' room. He'd been avoiding going in there since his telephone conversation with Melanie: it was too much of a reminder of how he was missing his son, but he loved this room and it was good to have some of Gus' possessions around him and, sitting down on the bed, it was easier to imagine the boy there with him.

“Dad ... can we go swimming later? ... I don't need the floats any more,” Gus had stated proudly, when he'd last been there. The weather was still a little cool, but the pool was heated and Brian had joined him in the water; swimming alongside him and giving him every encouragement, but had made him promise not to go anywhere near the pool without him.

During his visits from Canada, Gus had started to accumulate a few things that he'd left behind; familiar possessions that would make him feel right at home the minute he arrived back.

Brian walked over to the shelves and picked up one of the books he'd got for Gus, though he probably already had it; Winnie the Pooh. This book, along with the Sesame Street series, had always been Gus' favorites and they'd read them together, though Brian had made sure it was Gus who read most and out loud so he could practice his reading.

Looking around, Brian realized these really were the only books in the house. Brian only ever read the newspapers and trade mags; he'd never been one for novels, even as a child and as an adult he'd never found the time: something else had always come up and the only other reading matter was the occasional comic book he'd pick up from time to time in Michael's shop.

Kid's books were great; filled with characters and stories a young imagination could believe; before cynicism and the harsh realities of life set in. No one really told stories how they really were, decided Brian; that life was a total bitch and it didn't matter how hard you tried, there were always circumstances that kicked you in the gut: always someone who'd grind you down; enjoy seeing you hurting.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Over the next couple of weeks, a seed of an idea started to germinate in Brian's head. He still couldn't bring himself to venture out. He knew people would have heard what had happened, but as far as anyone outside of his immediate family and friends were concerned, it was still an unfortunate accident. But everyone would look at him with the beard and know he must be covering something up.

He could just hear what they'd be saying. “There's Brian Kinney ... poor guy ... got his face cut up in a car wreck,” and the one thing Brian hated more than anything else was pity.

Vic had once tried to ask Brian why he didn't consider the plastic surgery, but Brian had cut him off. The scars were deep and wide and would require extensive work; something Brian just didn't think he could put himself through and besides, they were a reminder of just how stupid he'd been.

Brian knew that many a time he'd driven after having been pretty wasted or high the previous night; even when he was going to have Gus the following day. Anything he'd taken the night before would still have been in his system and he was damn lucky he'd never had an accident before.

But what if one day he'd had his son with him and his judgment wasn't as it should have been? If anything happened to Gus, he'd never live with himself: the guilt would probably kill him.

No, it was much better all round to stay at the house and cut himself off from everyone who knew him; everyone who might feel sorry for him and to make sure he never did anything like it again: using the beard to hide not just the scars, but to mask his feelings: even from himself. But what the fuck was he going to do with the rest of his life and then Brian started to think seriously about the idea that had come to him previously.

Brian's advertising campaigns had always had the most memorable copy-writing underlining them. He always came up with the exact words necessary to sell a product or a service. Why couldn't he employ that skill elsewhere?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The Present Day:

“How are you?” asked Lindsay as Brian eventually pulled away from their hug. “Good,” came the reply and Lindsay had tilted her head to one side. Brian blinked and tried to smile; she always could see right through him. “Better now,” he said eventually and she smiled back at him.

Gus was still down at the stables and Lindsay took off her coat and left it in the hall. Vic had been working in the kitchen; he'd hung back, not wanting to intrude on Brian's reunion with his son and close friend, but now he and Lindsay hugged and Vic took the bags up to their rooms.

“So ... how many screen plays is it now?” Lindsay asked him as she and Brian headed for the kitchen.

“Four,” replied Brian. “And I'm almost done with the one I'm working on.”

“Have you seen any of them?” he asked, almost coyly and looking back over his shoulder at her as he poured out the coffee that had just been made. Lindsay grinned. “Every one of them ... much to Mel's disgust.”

“I can believe that,” came the reply and Brian chuckled and handed her a cup of the hot liquid.

“And every one of them broke my heart,” Lindsay continued. “Who knew you could write like that ... and about heteros.“

“Wasn't easy,” chuckled Brian, “Considering my limited experience with pussy ... luckily I have a good memory ... and a good imagination.”

Lindsay couldn't help blushing at Brian's reference to the few times they'd slept together in college during something they both tended to think of as their 'experimentation period'.

“Well ... you certainly seem to attract top names to appear in them ... and you've made quite a reputation for yourself ... even though people don't really know who you are.”

“And I'd like to keep it that way,” stated Brian as he took his drink to the table and Lindsay followed him.

After the accident, Brian had started to write the odd short story, for his own amusement originally and as a way of keeping occupied, but with a thought at the back of his mind that maybe he'd send them off to a publisher and see if they might be interested.

The more Brian wrote, the more intriguing his stories became, with twists and turns and unexpected developments. He'd give depth into his characters and make their adventures more and more compelling. And then one day he got a phone call from a Hollywood film producer.

They'd been given one of his manuscripts along with his telephone number and they were interested in making his story into a movie. It needed a little re-working to turn it into a screen play, but if he was willing to talk to them and they could come to an agreement about the changes, it could end up being quite a lucrative venture and they even asked if he had anything else they could see.

Brian had turned open-mouthed to a very tight-lipped Vic, who was in the process of tidying up the living room and trying to look the picture of innocence. “Do I need to ask how they got my story?” asked Brian pointedly, after he'd put down the phone.

He'd noticed Vic hanging around while he was taking the phonecall, something the man didn't normally do, not that Brian got many phonecalls these days. Vic knew Brian liked his privacy and the very fact that he appeared to be listening in while all the while trying to look disinterested got Brian wondering from the start.

“I did say I had the odd show business connection,” Vic had said. “I know ... you told me ... you always kept telling me ... you and Judy,” came back Brian, still trying to make sense of what he'd actually been offered. But Vic did indeed have a friend who worked for a movie studio and knew just the right person to pass on Brian's story to.

Brian frowned; he didn't really need to work. He was still CEO of Kinnetik, even though he now had nothing to do with running the business. But maybe this was just what he needed: a new direction in his life.

The producer was so enthusiastic, he agreed to come to WV. Fortunately, never having met Brian before, he didn't know his recent history or that the beard was anything more than his normal appearance and he agreed that only he would contact Brian regarding any changes that the studio thought were necessary.

Subsequently, after a not unreasonable amount of reworking, Brian's first effort had been a smash hit, attracting critical acclaim for being a movie that defied the mold and since then Brian's screen plays had hit the top five mark consistently and he discovered he was on to a winning, if unusual, formula.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Justin ... you don't mind that Jodie stays in with us tonight do you?” asked Daphne as she handed him the bowl of popcorn. Having been best friends since school, cozy nights in with popcorn and a DVD were a frequent occurrence: neither of them had much money since going out on their own and this was one of the cheaper forms of entertainment.

“No ... that's okay,” came the reply and Daphne put the DVD into the player and popped the top off her beer; she handed another one to Justin and picked up the remote.

“JODIE ... WILL YOU COME ON ... IT'S STARTING,” yelled Daphne as she sat back next to Justin and he winced; his friend shouting almost directly into his ear and she dived into the popcorn he was holding.

Most young people would have preferred the back row at the movies; but that was an option not open to them with Justin being gay, even though there was a time when Daphne had feelings for him that were more than just friendship. But that nonsense was thankfully over and forgotten and always comfortable in each other's presence, Daphne kicked off her shoes and draped her legs over Justin's knees.

Jodie rushed in and plonked herself down on the other side of Justin, who groaned as the titles came up. “A chick flick?”

“Well ... what did you expect?” came the voices in unison and Daphne grinned at him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

90 minutes later and it wasn't just the girls who were sniffling and looking for handkerchiefs, though Justin would never admit it.

“That ... was just ... the saddest thing,” stuttered Jodie and Daphne blew her nose. “I wasn't expecting that ... I thought they were going to go off and get married,” she sniffed and Justin pushed Daphne's legs off his lap and reached over to the coffee table and picked up the DVD case; he turned it over and read the back.

“Well no wonder ... it's one of that asshole Brian Kinney's ... didn't you see who'd written the screen play when you rented it?” asked Justin and Daphne shook her head. “I just liked who's in it ... it sounded like a great story ... I didn't think about who'd written it.”

Justin shook his head. “Well ... if you wanted a movie with a happy ending ... that was a pretty dumb choice,” he informed her and Daphne groaned and slumped back in her seat.

 

 

 

- o O o -

 

 

 

Chapter Two:

“Justin ... you know I'd help you out if I could ... but with dad's firm going under last year and him losing his job ... I'm still trying to pay off my student debts.”

Justin took Daphne's hand and squeezed it. She'd been in her residency at Allegheny General now for almost a year and though her parents had financed her as much as they could through med school, her father's firm had gone into receivership the year before and there was a period when he wasn't working. And, when he had found employment, he'd been forced to take a pay cut; more than he'd hoped for and they were still struggling to keep their heads above water.

“Hey ... I don't expect you to bail me out every time I'm ... shall we say ... financially embarrassed ... and I'm not exactly a starving artist,” reassured Justin. He hadn't meant to sound quite so sorry for himself when he'd complained he could barely afford to eat, let alone pay the rent on the place he called home and that also doubled as a workspace.

Daphne shivered. “Why is it always so cold up here?” she asked him, looking around the place. “It's the middle of summer.”

The paint was peeling off the walls, there were rusty pipes and grime everywhere, but it had high ceilings and, despite the grime, good light.

“Did you have to come and live somewhere so ... so ...” Daphne stopped; knowing how many times she'd asked him why he'd moved into such an awful place and always conscious of not wanting to offend him. You could hardly call it an apartment; it didn't even have a proper kitchen and there was a shared bathroom down the hall and the furniture was sparse and second-hand.

Justin looked around him. Despite its grungy appearance, he liked living and working in the same space and often found himself getting up in the middle of the night to paint when inspiration hit him. Besides, it was cheap.

“This is my place ... I found it on my own and I pay for it on my own ... just about.”

“And until ...”

“I know,” interrupted Daphne. “Until the house of your dreams comes along ...”

“With stables and a pool,” they said in unison and Justin grinned at how often he'd waved away Daphne's concerns about his living conditions with flippant words.

Craig Taylor, Justin's father, had refused to pay for his son's education; unless he went to Dartmouth. But Justin had no intention of being a business major: he was an artist and a pretty gifted one at that. Not that it had always been that way.

You couldn't exactly call it a 'run-in': that hardly described a baseball bat slamming you in the head, which is what had happened to him at 17 when a football jock wanted to make Justin pay.

He hadn't complained of the occasional hand or blow job Justin had given him in the showers or the school's sports equipment store room, but when Chris Hobbs tried to deflect attention away from his own closeted homosexuality and Justin had outed him, Hobbs' hatred for Justin's comfort in who he was had resulted in a violent attack which had left the young man in a coma and then spending weeks in re-hab as he tried desperately to regain the use of his drawing hand.

He would never make a complete recovery; the motor skills would never be quite the same as before. But there was no way he was going to give up his struggle to be the best artist he could be and becoming independent had been his way of stating to the world that he'd survived.

There was a time when Justin thought he would give up. But as much as he was spurred on by the support of his mom and best friend, the fact that his father hoped this would mean he would give up his dreams of becoming an artist, made Justin even more determined to fight back; his indeterminable spirit never diminishing for long.

So his father had cut him out of his life entirely; telling his teenage and still traumatized son that he never wanted to hear him mention his disgusting life-style again and that if he continued to frequent gay bars and sleep with guys that he would never get a penny off him, leaving Justin believing his father thought his bashing was a result of that life-style: that Justin had more or less brought it on himself.

It had been an incredible struggle. Justin's mom, Jennifer, had helped as much as she could and seeing her husband disown her only son had been the final straw. After Craig's behavior towards Justin, including striking the young man when he dared to tell his father that no matter what, he would always be his queer son and after years of Craig's affairs, Jennifer had enough and ended the marriage.

It tore Justin apart; believing he'd been the cause of the split and it had taken some lengthy discussions with his mom for Jennifer to finally make her heartbroken and guilt-ridden son realize he wasn't to blame for the breakdown of their marriage.

Craig continued to support Molly, their younger daughter and Jennifer was now a qualified realtor, but Justin had had to take a succession of part-time jobs in order to fund himself through art school; often working long hours. And, even now, Justin knew that he might still be forced to take a job in commerce in order to supplement his income; though this was something he was hoping to avoid for as long as possible.

In his mid-twenties, Justin had experienced moderate success, but was still waiting for his big break through. He was determined not to 'sell out' and produce only repetitive art he knew would be a sure-fire commercial success. Instead, he wanted to paint and draw from the heart: from his feelings deep within. Even if sometimes his work was dark and foreboding, for those were times he vividly recalled as he tried to work through the trauma following his attack.

Trauma not made any easier by either his father's attitude or the fact that Hobbs was only convicted of a simple assault and not a hate crime and only ended up being given community service.

What Justin suffered hadn't been deemed worthy of a custodial sentence according to the law; apparently the fact that he could so easily have died or been left a vegetable not worth taking into account when determining a suitable punishment and he'd developed a keen sense of right and wrong. The fact that so many people seemed to escape the proper penalty for their crimes irked him all the time and Daphne had chuckled and said more than once, that maybe Justin should have gone into law instead.

Thankfully, he didn't get the nightmares very often any more, but every now and again, Justin would find himself succumbing to the severe headaches he occasionally suffered from since his attack; like a dark cloak enveloping him and only finding release in painkillers and sleep, but would leave him depressed and lost for a few days; until he could pick up a brush or a pencil again. But at least he still had his art that he so nearly lost; even if that art so clearly displayed his pain as Justin tried to purge himself of the hurt he still carried inside.

As well as losing himself in his art, Justin liked to exercise, which he mostly did with weights in his rooms and the odd trip to the gym when he could afford it.

He was right; he was hardly a starving artist, in fact he had quite a beautiful, well muscled body, though without an ounce of flesh to spare. Not overly muscular, the working out helped him to focus his mind and bring him back out of those periods of despair; never giving up hope. And the exercise helped to relieve the tension that would build up when he was concentrating so much that he'd lose all track of time; not realizing just how many hours he was spending hunched up over whatever project he was working on and sometimes forgetting to eat and unable to sleep.

“What are you going to do if you can't pay the rent?” Daphne asked him seriously and Justin shrugged.

“I'm so sorry I don't have the room Justin ... but when Jodie's ex threw her out she came away with nothing ... she doesn't have anywhere else to go.”

“I wish I could do more,” said Daphne and Justin hugged her.

“That's alright Daph ... don't worry about me ... I'll think of something,” Justin answered her, though at this moment he didn't know how he was going to find next month's rent.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindsay had arranged to stay at Brian's a few days: she always came down with Gus now that he no longer traveled with Michael.

“Have you seen him? ... Have you even spoken to him?” asked Lindsay and Brian looked up at her.

“You mean Michael?” “Of course I mean Michael ... who else?” she answered and Brian shook his head.

“Brian ... it's been three years ... I would have thought Michael of all people ...”

“Would have forgiven me?” interrupted Brian and he leaned back in his chair. “I would have thought so too ... but apparently not.”

“He's doing okay though ... the business is doing well and he's giving quite a few speeches on gay comic book heroes these days.”

“Oh?” said Lindsay curiously, as she perched on the edge of the desk Brian was sitting at: Gus had gone down to the store with Vic and Brian and Lindsay had gone into the study as she'd asked to see what Brian was working on.

“How do you know that?” Lindsay asked him. She and Melanie were pretty much up to date with what Michael and the rest of their chosen family were doing these days, but she was surprised that Brian knew too, considering he and Michael hadn't been in touch. But then again, Michael's uncle Vic was living in Brian's house.

Brian blinked and rolled his lips into his mouth and Lindsay sighed. “You still care about him don't you?” she asked him and Brian shrugged.

Brian didn't like to admit it, but he still missed Michael and often asked Vic how he was. Initially, Vic had seen how awkward Brian was when he asked about news of Michael in a roundabout fashion and so now Vic volunteered anything he thought Brian might enjoy hearing about instead of the man having to ask him.

Vic was in regular contact with his nephew and once suggested meeting up with Brian, but unfortunately he'd asked within Debbie's hearing and had gotten a stony look in reply from her and a rather weak smile from Michael; since then, he hadn't bothered to mention it again.

Though never forgiving her brother for appearing to side with Brian after the accident, Debbie had mellowed a little over the last year especially. She'd heard from both Lindsay and Vic what a great dad the man had turned into and muttered something like 'about time', but still hadn't forgiven him for putting Michael in danger.

But the irony of this whole situation was that Brian was probably one of the most truthful men you could ever meet and would have held his hand up to being behind the wheel of the vette at the time of the crash. But once Michael had made and signed the statement he'd given to the Highway Patrolman, there was no going back; his fate was sealed. For Michael and Ben were trying to adopt Hunter, their foster-son, but there was no way the courts would allow them to do so if Michael was found guilty of false-reporting. So what was Brian to do; his family and friends would have ended up hating him either way.

But they had been pretty amazed at Brian's change of direction with his new career and at his success. He'd never allowed any interviews with the press, even though they'd been curious and his picture never appeared in any publicity regarding the movies he'd written. And it had been Vic who'd confirmed that the Brian Kinney who'd been mentioned occasionally in the media was indeed their very own.

But even with Brian's new success, Vic's heart had still gone out to him; Brian still loved his friend, even though that friend wanted nothing to do with him.

Lindsay bit her lip and was swinging her legs, Brian chewed the end of his pen as he studied her; she seemed to be pondering over whether to say something to him or not and in the end he couldn't resist asking.

“Okay ... out with it ... what's on your mind?”

“You're not going to like it,” stated Lindsay and Brian frowned. “Then tell me quickly and get it over with,” and she took a deep breath.

“I promised Debbie she could see Gus while he was down this time ...”

“Christ Lindsay!” exclaimed Brian and he got up out of his chair. “After the way she poisoned everyone against me?”

“I know,” accepted Lindsay. “But you've said yourself in the past ... she is practically his Grandmother ... but she is Michael's mother ... and I'd probably have reacted the same way if it had been Gus.”

“It took you long enough to come around,” reminded Brian and Lindsay nodded. True; it had been months after the accident before she'd contacted Brian, but Lindsay had initially thought it was Brian who wasn't contacting them. Melanie hadn't told her about refusing Brian's request to talk to Gus that night and it only came out after Gus had started to ask after his daddy and Lindsay had discussed with her partner the possibility of Brian seeing his son again. And then it was almost nine months after the accident before Lindsay had managed to talk Melanie into letting Brian see Gus without them having a major fight and, reluctantly, Melanie had agreed: Lindsay had then traveled down with him.

His first visit after the accident, Brian had been worried that Gus might be scared of him and had actually felt sick when they arrived at his door. The boy had never seen his dad with a beard before and Gus had been a little shy at first and hid behind his mom. But his hesitancy began to disappear as soon as Brian started speaking and he'd heard his father's familiar voice.

Brian had crouched down to Gus' level and spoken gently and slowly and with encouragement from Lindsay, Gus had gone to his dad and allowed his father to hold him and Lindsay had to keep her own tears at bay as she saw Brian pick the boy up and hug him for all his worth: the man unable to speak as he held his son in his arms.

Lindsay had seen how quickly father and son had become so comfortable in each other's company; there was a real bond and when they left a few days later, Lindsay had promised that Gus would come again soon and she'd kept her promise and they'd had regular visits over the last few years, including Gus spending the long summer breaks with his dad: Lindsay would bring him down and stay a few days and then go back to Toronto and then collect Gus and take him home in time to start the new school term.

Whatever Brian was supposed to have done; she knew he'd taken on board what he'd lost because of his apparent recklessness: not only his friendship with Michael, but time with Gus that he'd never get back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“How's he doing?” asked Lindsay. Vic was preparing lunch and she stood by him at the kitchen sink. Through the window, they could see Brian and Gus kicking a soccer ball around the back garden and hear Gus' yell of delight and saw how he punched the air when his dad failed to stop the boy scoring a goal.

“Better for seeing the two of you,” stated Vic as he drained the salad vegetables.

“And the rest of the time?” prodded Lindsay.

“He keeps busy ... he works out ... he writes ... does research on the internet.”

“Does he have someone?” she asked him and Vic shook his head. “I can barely get him to go out and meet anyone ... it's a major event for him to go down to the drugstore or pick up the odd thing from the market ... a year ago he couldn't even do that.”

“So he lives like a hermit ... or even a monk?” asked Lindsay, appalled at the thought. Vic smiled.

“Not exactly,” and then he saw her eyes widen. “Good grief ... no ... not me!” said Vic in horror. Vic had always appreciated Brian's beauty, but having known the man since he was 14 and having been his nephew's best friend, Brian was family.

“But there are ways,” and Vic winked at her. “Ah,” smiled Lindsay in realization as they heard a commotion outside the back door. Father and son were horsing around and fell through the doorway together: Brian pushing Gus in front of him as he tickled the boy in the ribs.

“You two better wash up ... lunch is ready,” announced Vic as he started to lay the kitchen table and Brian and Gus disappeared to the downstairs bathroom. Lindsay smiled: it was so good to see her two favorite males getting on so well.

After lunch, Lindsay had hesitated for fear of Brian's reaction but had mentioned hiring a car so that she could take the opportunity and look up the old gang. Surprisingly, Brian offered the use of his own for despite rarely going anywhere, he did have his own car: a BMW coupe with tinted windows and it was dumb for Lindsay to hire a car when there was a perfectly good one in the garage.

“Drive carefully,” he instructed her as he handed over the keys and it didn't take much for Lindsay to realize how serious Brian meant it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindsay was looking forward to renewing old friendships and her first port of call was Debbie's and though she intending trying to catch up with everyone she could in the next day or so, after a few hours in Debbie's company, Lindsay had more or less been brought up to date with them all. Lindsay grinned to herself: if they awarded prizes for talking, Debbie would have a cabinet full of them, but in some ways it was comforting that some things, at least, would never change.

According to Debbie, Emmett's party planning business was going from strength to strength and he'd earned quite a reputation for himself in all the right society circles and had to take on extra help. He wasn't in a serious relationship, but he was still seeing football player, Drew Boyd, from time to time.

Ted and Cynthia were making a fairly good job of running Kinnetik between them. And Lindsay couldn't help smiling to herself: Brian's legacy of delivering a product with punch and pizzazz, along with excellent visuals was apparently being continued, though she doubted they still had the reputation they once had, without Brian's hands-on involvement.

Any how, Cynthia was engaged to a local businessman and after several false starts, Ted was now living full time with Blake, a drugs counselor, whom he'd initially dated around the time Gus was born.

Michael and Ben's relationship had never been stronger. They'd adopted Hunter, who was now in college studying the performing arts; his heart set on becoming an actor and they were thinking of taking in more foster children.

Debbie of course asked after Melanie, Gus and her own Granddaughter, Jenny Rebecca and Lindsay invited Debbie and Carl to visit them some time soon.

Lindsay hesitated. “Gus is doing really well ... he's having a great time ... I have to admit ... Brian does a really good job with him ... it's great to see them together.”

Debbie put down the pot of freshly made tea and looked at her. “I know what you're trying to do ... soften me up ... but I can't forgive him Lindsay ... I nearly lost Michael ... what if it had been Gus?”

Lindsay sighed; she couldn't help but agree with Debbie that in similar circumstances, it was highly likely she'd have felt the same, but it had been a long time ago.

“It's been a long while Debbie ... don't you think Brian's been punished enough?”

“You know how close he and Michael were ... it practically killed him that Michael wouldn't talk to him ... still won't.”

Debbie poured out the fresh tea and shook her head. “Sorry Lindsay ... he nearly cost me my son.”

“Brian was lucky in the past ... he got away with more than he should've ... nothing stuck to him ... but not this time.”

Lindsay took a sip of her drink and inwardly sighed; it looked like even after this long that Debbie wouldn't budge; maybe she would see if she could get Michael on his own.

Lindsay was on her third cup of tea when Carl arrived home at the end of his shift having met Emmett on the doorstep and Lindsay hadn't realized just how long she'd stayed; she would have to leave soon, she'd promised to cook for the guys tonight.

Needing a bathroom break, Debbie left them and went upstairs, which at least allowed Carl to speak for himself, first of all checking that Emmett would keep what he was about to say to himself. Emmett told him not to worry, that despite opinions to the contrary, he did know when to keep his mouth shut and saying it with a grin and a wink.

Carl was on the verge of retiring and confided in Lindsay and Emmett that he was wondering what he was going to do with all that time on his hands and feeling just a little fearful of how he and Debbie would get on under each other's feet. Emmett threw up his hands saying that although he loved Debbie to bits, spending all day with her would send even him climbing the walls and Lindsay grinned; knowing that being around Debbie full time would be exhausting. And Carl had to admit that he wouldn't half mind if Debbie still worked the odd shift at the diner, just to give him a little peace and quiet.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Damnit; Michael was out of town giving yet another talk on gay comic book heroes: he was becoming quite an authority on the subject these days, but it meant Lindsay wasn't going to get the chance to talk to him face to face about him and Brian. Ben had listened patiently when she'd called and had said it wasn't really his business; that Brian was really Michael's friend, but he was willing to pass on to Michael that she'd called.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Still unable to forgive them for not accepting her relationship with Melanie, Lindsay had little contact with her parents these days: she couldn't bear to put herself through the struggle of trying to defend her lifestyle and choice of partner. But her sister, Lynette, had asked to see her and the following day, Lindsay borrowed Brian's car once more and set off to visit.

“How many husbands is this now?” Brian had asked her. “Three ... or is it four ... I lost count,” smiled Lindsay and she kissed both her boys and left them in the kitchen: Vic had various errands and plans for the day and had left earlier in the morning and for the first time since his son had arrived, Brian had been left alone with Gus.

Lindsay ended up staying at her sister's all afternoon. They'd gotten on so much better than she'd ever have thought and the two girls had ended up going out shopping and having coffee and then Lindsay stayed on for dinner and a chance to meet Lynette's fourth husband.

Lindsay got back to the house just as Gus had finished his bath. He looked a little teary and it didn't take much to realize that something must have passed between the boy and his dad and, sending Gus to his room to read before turning in, she tackled Brian.

“I leave you for a few hours and you're fighting?” She asked Brian. “We're not fighting Lindz ... it's just ... Gus wanted to do something and I wasn't keen ... that's all.” Lindsay frowned and waited for Brian to continue.

“He asked if we could go to the zoo one day ... I said I didn't think so.”

“Brian ... why on earth not ... for goodness sake ... the boy's eight years old ... he can't ride Buttons all day and he's not going to be content with just playing soccer in the back yard or staying in his room watching DVD's ... I thought you'd want to spend some quality time with your son?”

“I do,” answered Brian quickly and he sighed. Gus was getting older; he was going to be expecting them to do much more together.

“And what would be so bad about going out with your son ... in public ... you're hardly the Hunchback of Notre Dame,” observed Lindsay smiling and she reached up to stroke his face.

“In actual fact ... this is quite sexy ... you know,” said Lindsay, referring to Brian's beard.

“And you would know ... of course,” observed Brian, drawing away from her touch.

“I may be a dyke ... but I can still recognize a handsome man when I see one,” answered Lindsay, seriously, but Brian frowned. Surely, Lindsay was one of the few people who would still think him attractive; but then again, it's surprising what people see in you that you can't see in yourself.

Lindsay sighed; the knew that Brian's confidence had taken a tremendous knock after the accident, but why couldn't he see just how sexy a man he still was; that he could still have a life.

“You're going to have to get your act together, Brian.”

“This self-imposed prison sentence you've subjected yourself to has to come to an end eventually ... but the longer you leave getting back into the real world ... the harder it'll get,” and leaving Brian to mull over her words, Lindsay went upstairs to check on Gus.

Brian sighed and looked out the window as the light began to fade. Lindsay was right, outwardly at least, everything seemed perfectly normal; after all, he was in pretty good shape: the gym he had installed in the house a couple of years helped with that. But it was the feelings he had on the inside that were still so hard to come to terms with.

Three years since the accident and the feelings of no longer being the man he once was hadn't gone away; the scars had seen to that. Then there was the guilt and subsequent rejection; that hadn't diminished one little bit, not even with him now being allowed to see Gus.

His son had little recollection of Brian before the accident and he was thankful for that at least. But it was obvious that apart from Vic and Lindsay, everyone else he'd ever considered family or friends still remembered that time vividly and their isolating him from their lives ensured that Brian couldn't forget it either.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Hey Champ.” Brian knocked and popped his head around the door to Gus' room. Gus had been in bed for half-an-hour and was reading before settling down to sleep.

“Hi, dad,” answered the boy and he watched his dad walk across the room and sit down on his bed.

“About earlier ...”

“That's okay ... mom says you don't go out very much,” and then Brian saw an idea form in Gus' head. “Hey ... perhaps uncle Vic can take me to the zoo?”

Brian's heart sank and he swallowed. Now was the time to make up his mind: was he going to get over his fears that were keeping him a virtual prisoner in his own home and be a father to Gus or not; or was he going to let someone else fill that role for him: a role that once he'd surrendered would possibly never get back?

In the end, Brian smiled. “Well ... uncle Vic could come with us I guess.”

Hearing those words, Gus scrambled out from under the bedclothes and moved towards his dad and put his arms around his neck: Brian hung on.

“That'll be so neat.”

Brian closed his eyes and stroked his son's hair. In the end, it hadn't really been too tough a decision to make. His son, or his prison? No contest.

Gently, Brian set Gus back down. “Come on ... it's getting late ... lights out now ... you'll want to spend some time with your mom tomorrow ... she's going home soon.“

And then, before Brian could stop himself: “Why don't we drive her out to the airport ... we can watch some of the planes,” and he could hardly believe his own words and wondered why it was it seemed his son gave him so much courage.

“Wow, dad,” Brian smiled at Gus' excitement and he brought the duvet up and covered the boy's shoulders.

“You're not too old for a kiss ... are you?” asked his dad and Gus shook his head: Leaning down, Brian kissed Gus' forehead.

“Night Son.”

“Night, dad,” and Brian took the book Gus had been reading and placed it on the nightstand; he turned out the light and closed the door.

“There ... that wasn't so bad,” Lindsay's voice came quietly from behind him and Brian turned round.

“You eavesdropping?” he smiled at her.

“I was passing by ... not my fault the door was open,” grinned Lindsay and she reached up to kiss him and this time Brian didn't back away.

“I'm going to have a bath and an early night ... night Brian,” and Lindsay entered her room.

“Night Lindz,” came the reply.

Brian went downstairs to fetch a soda; he was going to do some research on the internet before turning in himself and he met Vic on his way in.

“We're going to the zoo,” he announced, smiling and leaving Vic standing in the hallway.

“We are?” came the answer and he watched Brian's back disappear out of sight and then the man's words hit home and Vic grinned before making his way to his room to watch a late night Judy Garland movie.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lindsay promised faithfully to spend some time the next day with Gus, but there was one more errand she had to run and the following morning, Lindsay asked Brian if she could again borrow the car; there was one old friend she still needed to look up before she went home. Brian had grinned: Lindsay had chalked up more mileage in the car in the last few days then he had since he bought it, but he was curious as to why she wasn't exactly saying where she was going.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Sidney.”

“Lindsay Peterson ... well you're a sight for sore eyes,” and the owner of the Pittsburgh Art Gallery hugged her.

“How are you?”

“Very well, Sidney ... you?”

“Musn't grumble my dear ... look ... is this a flying visit ... or can we have coffee?” he asked her and Lindsay looked at her watch.

“I've got a little time,” she answered him. “Good ... I know just the place ... has some wonderful pastries for morning coffee,” and smiling, Sidney took her by the arm and pushed open the gallery door.

They exchanged news and Sidney was delighted to hear that Lindsay had found herself a job at an art gallery in Toronto and that Melanie had retrained in Canadian law and was now in a successful practice and that Gus and Jenny Rebecca were thriving well in their new environment.

“Sidney ... there's something I wanted to ask you.”

“Yes, my dear?” he answered her as he put the last forkful of apple Danish in his mouth.

Over the last couple of days watching Gus and Brian together, she'd seen for herself just how much Brian loved his son: how much they so obviously loved each other. She knew now that resuming Brian's access to Gus had been exactly the right thing to do; whatever was supposed to have happened and that Brian's role of father really did have nothing to do with the accident.

But Lindsay also knew for sure that every time one of Gus' visits came to an end that a little bit of Brian died and she was afraid that once Gus had gone back home, Brian would retreat once more behind his self-imposed prison walls. This visit, more than ever, Brian seemed to be more relaxed and overhearing him confirm his and Gus' trip to the zoo, Lindsay knew how hard he was trying to be a good father and hopefully, the long lasting effect would be that Brian's life would open up and give him confidence to start living again.

He needed something to hold on to; something to remind him of his son every day and confirm that Gus was never really that far away: a reminder that there was as least one person who would always need him and Lindsay wanted to do something nice for Brian.

“I'm thinking of having a portrait painted of Gus.”

“My word ... how old is the lad now?” asked Sidney, stirring his coffee.

“He's eight ... nearly nine.”

“Quite a young man.”

“Yes ... he is,” and Lindsay picked up her own coffee cup.

“The only problem is I want it done fairly quickly while Gus is on summer break ... so the portrait would have to be done at his father's home and Brian ...” Lindsay paused as she struggled to find the words.

“Brian doesn't like a lot of people around him ... he's not keen on strangers.”

“In fact things haven't been easy for him lately and he's stayed pretty much to himself in recent years ... so it would need a particular sort of person who could work on the portrait ... someone ... someone kind ... and discrete ... who wouldn't pry.”

“And of course Gus is a typical 8-year old ... so it's going to take someone with a lot of patience.”

“Have you thought about doing it yourself?” Sidney asked her, but Lindsay shook her head. “I haven't really painted seriously for so long ... I really don't think I could do it ... or that I have the talent ... especially as he's my own son.”

“Besides I have to go home tomorrow ... I can't afford to spend any more time here.”

Sidney nodded and then frowned as he picked up his cup as a name came to mind.

“There is someone who is just as you describe ... and his work is quite brilliant ... he doesn't do a lot of portrait work ... but what I've seen is sheer genius ... I could ask him.”

“Really ... do I know him?” asked Lindsay.

“Possibly ... his name is Justin Taylor ... he was in an emerging artists show a few years ago ... though probably just after you'd left.”

“He wowed them totally ... but you know what's it's like ... how difficult it is to actually make money out of art ... at least while you're alive,” joked Sidney.

“And like most young artists,” he continued. “I'm sure Justin could do with the money.”

“Give me the address and telephone number and leave it with me.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

One final evening with Brian and Gus before Lindsay went home for the rest of the school break. Vic had taken himself out, not wanting to intrude, though of course he'd been invited to stay.

Somehow, Lindsay was going to have to tell Brian about her plan to have Gus' portrait painted and she knew that getting Brian to agree to have a total stranger in the house wasn't going to be easy.

She'd volunteered to cook again and she prepared a home-made burger from the best ingredients for Gus and would do steak and salad for her and Brian, with Brian's steak so rare you could almost hear it moo and she'd been to the store and chosen an expensive bottle of wine to go with it; though Brian had politely refused and Lindsay had felt embarrassed at her stupidity. For the next few weeks at least; Brian was on the wagon; no alcohol at all while he had Gus. In any case, he didn't drink to excess like he used to; even if he hardly went out, but while in charge of Gus he was taking no chances.

Brian also wasn't dumb; he could tell he was being buttered up for something, but when Gus had gone off to bed and they'd taken coffee into the living room, Brian wasn't at all prepared for what Lindsay had to tell him.

“You've done what?” he asked her in horror when Lindsay announced that she'd arranged to have a portrait done of Gus for Brian.

Now what was Brian supposed to say to that? That he hated the idea of having a portrait of his son as it meant having a stranger in the house and Lindsay soon realized that Brian was blustering through his excuses as to why it couldn't happen.

“And besides ... you remember Sidney,” she reminded him. “If he says he knows just the artist that would do this ... a young man who's considerate enough not to pry into anyone else's business ... then I believe him ... so what objections do you have ... really?” she challenged him and Brian bit his lip. Put like that, he couldn't think of anything.

Lindsay had left it with Sidney that he would contact Justin and, if the young man agreed to undertake the commission, that he should telephone Brian directly and make arrangements to come over and discuss how it should be done.

Brian couldn't help smiling at her; seeing how smug she looked at getting him to finally agree to this. Lindsay could always get through to him where others couldn't and nothing had changed there, apparently.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The following morning, Lindsay went to find Gus down at the stables where he’d gone to feed Buttons and told him there was something nice she’d like to do for his dad and what did he think about having his portrait painted. Gus had frowned; “Does that mean I have to sit really still … for like hours?” he’d asked her horrified and Lindsay smiled.

“I’m sure it won’t take too long … but you wouldn’t really mind … would you … if it’s for your dad?”

Gus shook his head. “No … I guess not … cos I know he doesn’t say anything … but I kinda get the feeling he misses me when I’m not here.”

Lindsay ran her fingers through her son’s hair. “Then he’ll have a nice picture of you to look at until he next sees you … won’t he?” and Gus nodded and smiled in agreement.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Driving to the airport was fine; behind the tinted glass of the BMW, it was easy to look out on the world and know that you couldn't be observed. Getting out and mingling with the crowd in departures was a different matter.

Brian parked the car in the short-stay lot and he and Gus walked Lindsay to the terminal. Still uncomfortable in crowds, Brian carried Lindsay's suitcase and placed it on a trolley; it was a busy time with travelers and flight crews on their way to hundreds of different locations and they had to negotiate their way around various groups of people waiting for their flights or collecting people.

Brian noticed two flight attendants making their way through the concourse; one of them was particularly cute and they were talking to each other and then one of them looked up and saw Brian and said something to his companion. For a moment, Brian's heart lurched, but then, as the men passed closely by, one of them smiled at him and kept eye contact as he brushed passed.

“Excuse me,” said the man and Brian smiled hesitantly and stepped back; Lindsay grinned and reached up to whisper in his ear. “I think you've just been cruised,” she informed him and curious, Brian looked in the man's direction.

The attendant was still looking back; hoping wistfully that the very attractive bearded man might possibly be on the very flight he was taking.

Brian smiled and narrowed his eyes. Was it possible that somebody might still find him attractive after all and Lindsay knew exactly what he was thinking and put her hand on his arm as she spoke to him quietly again.

“I know what you think about how you look ... but take it from me ... the beard's great ... you look great ... you obviously work out ... no one would know about the scars just by looking at you ... they aren't obvious to anyone else,” and Brian blinked and rolled his lips into his mouth and squeezed Lindsay's hand in thanks at her attempt to boost his confidence.

As they neared the check-in, Lindsay stooped and took her son in her arms and then she straightened up and hugged Brian.

“You two have a wonderful time ... and I'll see you in a few weeks,” and giving Gus and then Brian a final kiss she started to push her trolley towards the check-in.

Gus was a little tearful at waving his mom goodbye, but Brian taking him up to the observation gallery more than made up for it and they spent the next hour watching the various planes flying in and out of the airport.

By that time, they were both pretty hungry and feeling more relaxed than he could have hoped for, Brian allowed himself to be taken over to one of the various fast food outlets.

The last time he'd eaten burger and fries was at the diner Debbie worked in and he couldn't believe how long that had been and after their meal, he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin.

“That was great,” observed Gus and Brian had to wonder just how much fast food Gus actually ate, for feeling a little queasy himself, Brian just nodded in reply and the two of them made their way home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You're two weeks overdue,” Frank Burrows reminded him and he stood in Justin's doorway and scratched under his armpit. In his mid-fifties and at least forty pounds overweight and always wearing a dirty tee, you would hardly think he was the landlord and he made Justin squirm every time he had to deal with him.

The man undressed him; constantly looking him up and down when his eyes weren't resting at Justin's crotch. Justin was almost scared to turn his back as he left him to go find his wallet and he counted out the bills: What with having recently bought new art supplies and trying to keep his old heap of a car on the road, it wasn't enough and he'd be left with practically nothing.

“What about the rest?” Burrows asked him as Justin handed him the bills.

“There's an art show next week ... I'm expecting to do well ... I should have the money after then,” replied Justin and he saw the man chew his lip.

“We could always come to some ... other ... Arrangement,” suggested the other man and he moved surprising quickly and caught Justin at the back of the neck and Justin felt his skin crawl at the man's touch: swiftly he stepped back and out of reach.

“You'll have your money,” stated Justin and he closed the door in the man's face.

“I'd better, Taylor,” shouted the man through the door. “Or it'll be your ass,” and he chuckled at the delicious thought of the young man being unable to find the rest of his rent and having to pay in kind.

Justin shuddered. There was a show coming up and he was hoping to do well, but of course, there were no guarantees. Maybe he would have to find another job after all and he sat down on the tatty sofa and closed his eyes.

Maybe he couldn't cut it after all and that his dad had been right all that time ago and he was only fooling himself that he could be a successful artist.

Justin rubbed his forehead; he could feel the tension and he knew a headache was coming on and it promised to be a beauty and he went to find the tablets he needed, which he kept in one of the few cupboards in the place.

He opened the packet; it was empty and now he didn't have the money for a prescription. He hated to ask, but maybe Daphne could help out; maybe she could get him some pills and he could owe her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Here ... I got them at the hospital pharmacy so they're not as expensive as the drugstore,” stated Daphne and she took the bottle of pills out of her purse.

“Thanks Daph ... I'll pay you.”

“Justin Taylor ... don't you even think about it,” said Daphne quietly, so as not to make Justin's head thump any louder. He looked as weak as a kitten; too weak to even open the bottle and with the child-proof cap, even Daphne struggled, but getting the top off, she shook out two tablets and held them out to him; gratefully, Justin took them.

“Thanks Daph ... you know I wouldn't ask ...” Justin's voice was low; it hurt to speak and the sound of his own voice, as well as Daphne's, made the jackhammer in his head scream even louder.

Going over to the sink, Daphne ran the tap; allowing the water to clear and then filled a glass which she took over to Justin, who popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed the water he was offered.

Daphne hated seeing him like this. She had vivid recollections of how Justin suffered with indescribably painful headaches after the bashing and had hoped they'd run their course. But every now and again, they'd come back, though generally when Justin was worried about something or occasionally when he was down, which thankfully, didn't happen very often now.

He was pale and shivering despite it being the height of summer. The light was strongest here and place was subsequently warmer, but the bright sunlight now coming through the windows hurt his eyes and Justin put up a hand to shield himself from the painful glare. Daphne went over and reached up to the windows and pulled the drapes so that they were partly closed and then she retrieved a pillow and blanket from his bed and wrapped Justin up to keep him warm and placed the pillow behind his head.

“Thanks Daph.”

“Do you want me to call your mom?” she asked him. Justin could barely shake his head.

“No ... no need to worry her ... it'll go once the pills start to work and I can get some sleep,” he mumbled.

He was already starting to feel drowsy just with the relief in knowing the pills would kick in soon. The Vicodin were the only things that worked and he'd be out for several hours and while he slept, Daphne had a little look around the place. Justin may have joked before, but in actual fact, there was hardly any food at all and once Justin was out for the count and sleeping peacefully, Daphne borrowed his keys and went down to the store to stock up on a few things: Just because Justin was an artist, it didn't mean starving was mandatory.

Returning to Justin's apartment, Daphne quietly let herself in and packed away the things she'd bought. Recently, Justin had acquired a second-hand stove and refrigerator and she stowed away the fresh items into the cooler and the dry goods in the cupboards; knowing that if the situation was reversed, Justin would do exactly the same thing for her.

They'd been friends through school and Daphne had been the first person he'd come out to and the one person he knew he could go to when things got so shitty at home with his dad. Justin's mom had always supported him, though she had struggled to come to terms with her son's sexuality to begin with. But Daphne had always been his friend, no matter what; they'd always supported each other.

It was always boys that had been the problem; for both of them. Countless times had they cried on each other's shoulders when one relationship after another hadn't come to anything or when they did occasionally get a good one, it never seemed to last.

“Has he got a gay brother?” Justin would ask, when Daphne took him by the elbow and steered him across the other side of the room if she'd brought a new boyfriend over for her friend to give the once over. But so far, Daphne's relationships had never lasted very long and the fact that she was still studying meant she didn't have a lot of time to spare to concentrate on men.

“Has he got a straight brother?” would ask Daphne if Justin said he'd just met the man of his dreams, for Justin was constantly falling in love; always believing this was the one, someone to love him and who he could love in return; only to be let down and his heart broken, but never for long. For Justin had such a determined, undying spirit.

“Never mind, Daph ... you'll meet your Prince one day ... and so will I,” he'd said to her more than once and they'd share a bottle of cheap wine and commiserate with each other in their misfortune in love; until the next time.

And she was still studying and now Daphne had her books with her when she'd called round to bring him the painkillers after his phone call and making herself as comfortable as possible in the one other chair in the room, she settled down to finish her paper.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The sun was almost gone when Justin awoke; he still had dark circles under his eyes but his head wasn't thumping quite like it was. Justin knew what to expect; they both did: that he would be pretty zombie-like for a day or two and that the best thing to do was just sleep when he needed to and try and keep still and quiet. It wouldn't be the first time Daphne had stayed over to make sure he was okay, but thankfully that hadn't happened in months. But she hated the thought of the shared bathroom down the hall and so did Justin, cos he wasn't up to going out with her and keeping guard while she used it.

“Go home, Daph ... I'll be okay ... another day and this'll be gone.”

Daphne frowned; she did have to be at work in the morning, but reluctantly, after having made sure he was okay and knew there was soup and other provisions there for him, Daphne kissed Justin on the cheek and let herself out. If she hurried, she could get out of the building and down to her car without running into any of the weirdoes and crackheads that also inhabited the apartment building.

Having seen Daphne off, Justin took the pillow and duvet over to the bed and crawled in and slept all night and it was almost midday when he woke up to his cell phone ringing.

It was the Manager of the Pittsburgh Art Gallery and he wondered if Justin would be interested in taking on a commission he'd recommended him for. Justin was still fuzzy and for a moment couldn't quite take in what was being said, but then the realization dawned.

“I'd love to ... but it wouldn't be for a few days,” he informed Sidney; Justin wanted to make sure he had no remnants left from the headache before he went to see what it was all about.

Sidney told him he was sure it could wait for a day or two and gave him the name and number and Justin wrote it down on a pad and left it on the table: he'd felt hungry enough to heat up some soup and was almost finished when Daphne came in to check on him.

“You want some ... there's some left,” he asked her. “Yeah ... Thanks,” answered Daphne and she watched him as he went over to the stove and picked up the saucepan to pour the contents into a clean bowl.

“Well ... you're looking better,” she informed him and Justin managed a smile. “Yeah ... thanks ... I am ... and I've just been asked if I'd like to undertake a commission.”

“You have?” Daphne was almost as thrilled as Justin; taking on a commission could bring in the funds he was desperate for and it was about time he had some decent luck.

“What is it ... who's it for?” she asked him. “It's a portrait ... some kid ... his father's name is on the pad on the table,” he called to her over his shoulder as he opened a drawer and brought out a spoon.

Daphne walked over to the table and picked up the pad.

“Brian Kinney ... THE Brian Kinney?” she asked him. “You know him?” asked Justin as he put the bowl down on the table; the name not really meaning anything to him.

“Of course I do ... we both do ... you remember ... he's the one who writes all those movies that never have happy endings ... someone always gets killed or ...”

“Oh my God ... that Brian Kinney?” asked Justin, taking the pad from her and reading the name again, as if just to confirm it. “It never registered ... Jeez ... can you imagine what he's like to write stuff like that? He's probably some dried up old guy who hates everyone ... I mean you'd have to be ... to write such depressing stuff.”

“It's not depressing,” defended Daphne as she picked up her soup. “It's always rather beautiful ... in a sort of sad ... melancholy sort of way.”

“What ... that the hero and the heroine are never together in the last scene declaring how they feel ... that they will love each other 'til the end of time? What sort of love story is that?” asked Justin and Daphne shrugged: put like that it was difficult to answer him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gus was helping Brian clean out Button's stall. Strange thing was, Brian didn't mind this chore. The pony was good natured and friendly and he always marveled at the thought that animals didn't care whether you were black, white, gay, straight, beautiful or whatever. If you looked after them and loved them you got it back tenfold. And then after they cleaned up, they went in for breakfast.

With Gus around, Brian's schedule had gone haywire and he realized he was nearing the deadline that he'd promised to have his latest work ready by. It was almost done; just needed going over carefully to see if anything jumped out at him that didn't fit right before he'd send it off for proof-reading. Gus had understood and had gone into the living room to watch kids' TV while his dad was going to spend the morning working.

But Brian had noticed that Vic had been especially quiet at the breakfast table and as soon as he thought Gus was out of earshot, he asked him what was up.

“You're not going to like it.”

Brian groaned; Vic wasn't the first person to have said that to him recently and strangely enough, it was exactly the same subject that Vic was hesitant about mentioning to him.

“Debbie called me last night ... apparently Lindsay said she could see Gus while he was down here,” and Brian nodded and sighed. “Well ... I guess she is practically his Grandmother ... he loves her and I know she loves him at least.”

“She still loves you too ... you know,” said Vic, for in actual fact, for the first time since the accident, Debbie had actually asked after Brian. Lindsay's words of how hard he was trying to be the father that Debbie always knew he could be, hadn't been forgotten. But Brian closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief and went to walk away; Vic took his arm and stopped him.

“I know that's hard to believe after everything.”

“You're damn right it is,” came the answer.

“But you can't deny she was always there for you ... patching you up ... feeding you ... giving you a bed ... that kind of love doesn't just disappear overnight ... whatever the circumstances.”

Brian nodded; all that about Debbie being there for him was true. In fact, Debbie had been more of a mother to him than his own, but that was the difference.

“But when it came down to it ... when she knew I was to blame for an accident that could have killed Michael ... she cut me out ... in favor of her real son ... and she poisoned Mel and Lindz against me ... and that nearly cost me my son,” stated Brian and Vic sighed.

“I admit ... she treated you badly ... but you have to see it from her side ... a parent's side ... how would you feel if it was Gus one day ... could you honestly say you would react any different?”

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth and briefly closed his eyes, because honestly, if Gus was ever in an accident where a driver had been behind the wheel drunk or high, he wouldn't just cut them out; he'd probably want to kill them.

“So ... can Gus go?” asked Vic and Brian sighed. “Sure ... whatever ... call her back and fix a time,” and he turned his back and made his way to the study to start work, not that he was in the mood for it right now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Around 2:00, Vic picked up the phone. It was someone calling about taking up a commission to paint a portrait and he went to find Brian.

Brian groaned; since his earlier conversation with Vic, he wasn't really in the best frame of mind and he'd sort of hoped this would be forgotten about, but apparently not.

Reluctantly, Brian took the call and it was fairly obvious to Justin that the man he was talking to really wasn't terribly enthusiastic about the whole thing.

They made a time for the following morning; but unfortunately, unbeknown to Brian, Vic had already arranged for Gus to go and stay with Debbie the night following and to stay a couple of days. He dared not call her back, she'd think Brian was messing her around deliberately. And so Brian had to call Taylor back to say he could come and see them in the morning if he still wanted, but would have to accept that he couldn't start on the portrait straight away.

“Asshole,” stated Justin at the change of plans, for Brian sounded bored with the whole thing already and as he put down the phone, Justin wondered if, despite the money, it was really going to be worth all the hassle.

Justin decided he'd still go the next morning as the sooner it got started, the sooner it would be over with. Kinney had given him the address; somewhere in the sticks in West Virginia for God's sake, so Justin hoped the car would make it there and back. It wasn't too long a journey, probably not more than around 30 minutes from the city, but even so, he never went too far in it these days.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gus was looking forward to seeing Grandma Debbie, for with both Melanie's parents now dead, Lindsay's reluctance to contact her own and only Brian's mother still alive, Debbie and Carl were the nearest thing to grandparents the boy had. Joan Kinney was barely aware she had a grandson; not that Brian would inflict her on him, so the boy was excited at seeing Debbie; it had been a while and, like most grandparents, Debbie wasn't above indulging Gus. She wouldn't want to admit it, but he reminded her so much of Brian; much younger of course then when she'd first met Brian, but the likeness and the personality was all there: even some of the mannerisms.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin set off for the house in WV but it wasn't too long before he got lost and then the elements decided to conspire against him also. The weather had been pretty sultry the day before and a summer storm had threatened and it wasn't long before the thunder and lightening started and then it began to rain hard and he couldn't see where he was going at all.

Coming up to an intersection; the windshield wipers on full, the car died when he tried to pull away; the engine wouldn't start and so he let the vehicle coast down the slight hill and let it come to rest at the side of the road. Justin looked around him through the rain; there didn't appear to be any nearby houses and certainly no public telephones and he took out his cell phone.

“Shit.” The battery was almost dead and the signal was weak in any case, so what the hell was he going to do? The best thing he could do was get the car towed back to the Pitts; even if he got out to the Kinney house he might not make it back, but Justin couldn't afford to pay for the tow truck himself.

Thankfully, his mom's breakdown service would come out; for a fee, which she would pay for readily. But by the time he'd finished his call to her and tried to tell her where he was, the battery on his cell was dead and buried.

Unfortunately, it was a couple of hours before the tow truck turned up and after 30 minutes of trying to work out the problem, the mechanic shook his head; he wasn't going to be able to get Justin back on the road and would tow him back to the workshop in the city.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gus' bag was packed and sitting in the hallway. Lunch came and went and no sign of Taylor and in actual fact, Brian was rather pleased to be let off, despite the fact that deep down he actually quite liked the idea of having a portrait painted of his son. But knowing Gus was going off to see Debbie, while he was still excluded from that family's life, still hurt more than he wanted to admit. A lot of people in Brian's position would have said fuck her, but not Brian. Gus deserved to have as many people look out for him and love him as possible, even if one of those people was Debbie Novotny.

With no sign of Taylor and no response from his cell, Vic asked what he should do; he knew Debbie would be getting impatient and so Brian said for them to go; to not worry about Taylor. If he turned up, then too bad. If he was still interested they'd have to make it another time and so Vic picked up Gus' bag and took it out to the car and off they went. Brian would be on his own for the next couple of days; Vic had recently met someone, Rodney, and he would be staying with him.

A couple of hours later and in the silence of the house, Brian paced up and down; his home suddenly felt very empty without his son running around and Vic not there either and the old feeling of loneliness started to descend. Maybe he could use a little company: after all, with Gus not around, what could hurt?

When Vic had mentioned to Lindsay that Brian hardly lived the life of a monk, it hadn't taken much for her to understand his meaning.

After the accident, Brian still had the needs of any red blooded male and for someone as highly sexed as he'd been, to suddenly become celibate was beyond Brian's comprehension and it was to the service he'd used since then that Brian put in a call.

Vic had known Phillip Parker for years; he ran a very exclusive and discrete call-service out of Pittsburgh; not that Vic, as he was at pains to say, had ever had the need to use what the man could provide himself.

But he'd seen how lonely Brian was in those days after the accident, when all his family and friends didn't want to know him and how he'd started to retreat into himself, but it had taken some insistent convincing from Vic to get Brian to make the call.

The first time, Vic had stayed at the house in case Brian freaked. Of course, he'd never needed to use prostitutes before; getting guys had never been a worry for Brian, but with the way he was thinking of himself back then, just meeting anyone new was a real chore.

The first time, Brian had kept the lights on low and the guy didn't ask why. Of course, unbeknown to Brian, Vic had also had a word with Phillip about the guy he should send. Gorgeous, of course, but that was a given. But someone who would be particularly sensitive should Brian, say, have any problems.

Of course, he knew the guy was being paid to say how fantastic a fuck he was; Brian wasn't under any illusions on that score, but he'd always kept himself fit. But it was the sounds of genuine pleasure from the man under him, that gave Brian satisfaction that on this level at least, everything was still as it had always been.

Fucking someone he'd only just met and who's name he didn't even know was hardly new to Brian and this time there'd been no introductions either. The man had been exactly as per specification, with a great body and a great ass and if he'd noticed Brian's initial hesitation, then he never made anything of it. Brian found that before very long, he could switch off from how he was feeling about himself and a tried and trusted method of pain management had been established. And he soon realized he could trust who Phillip sent him and didn't bother leaving the lights on low any more.

And although the sex was satisfying, it was hollow and empty and only filled a physical need. There was no one to fill the void of just having someone there; someone to care about and who would care for him: something that Brian had once thought he would never need.

And now with Gus at Debbie's for a couple of days, the loneliness had set in again and Brian had made the call.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

From the workshop back in the Pitts, Justin called Daphne: if she didn't mind him borrowing her car, he could get back out to WV again and hopefully, keep his now very late appointment with Messrs. Kinney.

Daphne finished her shift and swung by the garage and Justin transferred the samples of his work he'd been taking with him in case Kinney wanted to see them and dropped her back home. He'd tried calling the Kinney household, but it went straight to answer phone. He was taking a risk that there'd be no one home now, but having failed to turn up earlier and despite his initial misgivings, Justin felt guilty at letting the man down and not being able to apologize for his lateness.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Justin had pulled off the main road and driven up the drive, he brought Daphne's car to a halt as the house came into view; hardly able to believe his eyes. A mock-Tudor mansion lay before him, but this was hardly the home he'd envisaged for Brian Kinney. Justin somehow had in mind that some boring monolithic monstrosity would have been more to the man's taste, not this beautiful and idyllic residence and he took out the piece of paper from his pocket and checked the address to be sure he'd come to the right place.

Maybe he'd got the wrong impression from Kinney's movies and with the conversations with him on the telephone, for whoever lived in this house must be a born romantic and he wondered again how the man could write such sad endings to his stories when he lived in a place that just inspired romantic fiction with fairy-tale happy endings and Justin sighed; for this surely was the house of HIS dreams.

But then the greeting he received when the door was opened to him made him wonder why the hell he'd bothered and that maybe his first impressions had been right after all.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Mr. K ...”

“No need for introductions,” said the man who now stood in the open doorway and Justin blinked at Brian's apparent irritation, but for the second time in a few minutes, Justin could hardly believe his eyes. Could this really be Brian Kinney: the man who wrote all those heartbreaking stories, because he didn't look a thing like Justin had been expecting, but then again, neither had his home.

Brian was in jeans and wife-beater and had padded to the door bare-footed.

“You're late,” came the rather curt statement, before Justin could introduce himself.

“I know ... I'm sorry ... the car ...”

“Well ... you're here now,” and Brian turned his back; leaving Justin standing on the doorstep, but not before the younger man had a chance to notice those beautiful hazel eyes; eyes that smoldered and were emphasized all the more by the beard that covered the man's lower face.

But Christ ... what an asshole ... what sort of welcome was that? thought Justin as he followed him in and then the man turned back towards him. “You wanna close the door?” and Justin hesitated and then turned around and shut the door as instructed.

“We're up here,” and without another word Brian made his way upstairs and Justin frowned at the man's continued rudeness and inwardly sighed in disappointment. But then again, this was more or less what he'd initially been expecting, going by the material the man wrote.

But following him up the stairs, Justin couldn't help notice the guy had a nice neat ass and long legs that took the stairs effortlessly. And those arms and shoulders; shown up beautifully by the wife-beater, were just incredible: just his luck the guy was married with a kid and obviously straight.

Brian led them into the bedroom and Justin hesitated just inside the door; wondering what the hell they were doing there and where was the kid who was supposed to be sitting for him, when Brian suddenly stripped off the wife-beater and threw it on the bed and looked over at him and, for the first time, Brian took a really good look at him.

He couldn't help grinning: Phillip knew how to pick them all right. He might be a little younger than usual, but this was definitely the cutest guy he'd sent him in a very long time and he couldn't help notice the shiny blond hair and those incredible pools of liquid blue that masqueraded as eyes.

To Brian, Justin's silence and the fact that he'd not started to remove any of his clothing meant only one thing; he wanted payment and Brian shook his head as he went to retrieve his wallet from the nightstand. But in actual fact, Justin was so confused and just so overwhelmed watching Brian that he didn't know what to say.

Being taken directly to the man's bedroom was confusing enough, without Brian stripping down to just his jeans. And even though he thought the man was just about the rudest he'd ever met, he had to admit he looked fantastic and obviously worked out, but then it dawned on him what Brian was saying; what was being expected of him.

“Best get this outta the way I guess,” and Brian counted out the bills. Phillip still insisted on cash; determined to keep as much of his affairs as possible away from the IRS.

“I think this should cover it,” and Brian held them out to Justin.

Now the penny was dropping; not only was this guy definitely not straight, he was apparently expecting to fuck him and offering him money and Justin finally found his voice.

“I don't know what sort of arrangement you think you made …” and Justin shook his head in disbelief and unable to finish his sentence. The man might be quite beautiful, but if this is what he was expecting; to fuck him just for the privilege of giving him a commission, then he was going to be disappointed.

Thoroughly disgusted that Kinney thought he could buy him like this: that Justin would be so grateful for the work he'd let the man screw him, Justin turned on his heel and practically ran back down the stairs.

“What the ...” for a moment, Brian felt sick. Had the young man found him so unattractive that he'd run out on him: that even the lure of money wasn't enough to be fucked by him?

Slowly, Brian made his way downstairs; in his haste to get away, the young man hadn't even closed the door behind him and as Brian went to close it, he heard a voice.

“Sorry I'm late ...”

 

 

 

- o O o -

 

 

 

Chapter Three:

“Sorry I'm late ...”

Brian turned to look at the man who'd just spoken to him and then he closed his eyes in disbelief. Shit. This was the trick, not the blond young man that had just fled from his house in obvious disgust and Brian groaned. That must have been Taylor; he was the only other person they'd been expecting, but as he hadn't shown, Brian thought he'd telephone again and re-arrange their meeting.

“Everything okay?” the trick asked, confused by Brian's silence. He'd seen the young man jump into his car and roar away, in fact he'd almost collided with him as he'd pulled in to park. Pity he'd left; he'd looked kinda cute; a threesome would have been fun, but he wondered why the blond had left in such a hurry, especially now as he surveyed the guy standing on the doorstep.

He'd been told that the man who lived at the address he'd been given was a very important client and was to be treated with the utmost respect, but he hadn't expected him to look quite as good as this. Stripped down to jeans when he came to the door and as much as Brian disbelieved it; hiding behind the beard or not, he was still one hot guy.

Brian opened his eyes and studied the trick. He looked to be in his late twenties and was quite attractive; about 5' 11”, slim build, green eyes, longish fair hair and dressed in expensive casual clothes.

“Shall we go inside ... wouldn't want you catching a chill,” the man suggested; trying to hurry things along and Brian sighed. Lindsay would chew him a second one if she knew what he'd just done; confusing the young artist she'd hired to paint Gus' portrait with a paid trick and he probably wasn't even gay. He was going to have to sort this out, but in the meantime the trick had come around in front of him and had started to run his fingers down Brian's chest and Brian smiled; well, as long as the man was here ...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What an asshole ... I can't believe that guy,” stated Justin as Daphne passed him his coffee.

“Are you sure you didn't misunderstand?” asked Daphne and Justin looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Misunderstand? Misunderstand him taking me up to his bedroom ... half-naked and offering me money there and then ... like ... like some trick?” answered Justin; an indignant tone to his voice.

“Sounds hot,” stated Daphne, grinning. “But who would have thought Brian Kinney would be gay... seeing as how he's got a kid and all ... what was he like?” she asked him and she plonked herself down on the sofa beside him. Justin had driven straight to Daphne's to return her car to her; she knew something must have happened by the expression on his face and the fact that he'd returned so early.

“I don't know ... I really didn't take that much notice ... he was so rude and arrogant ... and then when I realized what he was suggesting I just turned around and walked out.”

“Are you going back?” asked Daphne. “Are you kidding? ... He obviously thinks just because he's offering to employ me that gives him the right to fuck me ... just because he's some famous writer and lives in this huge fucking mansion ... well not this mister.”

“A mansion?” asked Daphne, frowning. “Does it have stables and a pool?”

“How the fuck should I know ... it was in the middle of no-where ... I only saw as far as Kinney's bedroom ... and then he starts to strip off and offers me money ... fucking asshole.”

Daphne frowned at this further barrage of words that came tumbling out and she watched as Justin stirred his coffee and she saw how he was now biting his lip.

“You've got the hots for him,” she ventured, still grinning. “No I haven't,” Justin contradicted her, but Daphne knew him far too well and she continued to grin at him until he finally relented; he never could keep how he was feeling from Daphne.

“Okay ... the guy is hot ... I guess,” Justin conceded and he put down the spoon and picked up his cup; taking a mouthful of coffee before continuing.

“He was younger than I expected ... at least I think he was ... it was kinda hard to tell ‘cos he has a beard ... but he had a great body and these amazing hazel eyes ...” and then he stopped and sighed.

“But he thought I was just going to jump into bed with him ... he didn't even introduce himself properly.”

“Like you've never done that before ... slept with a guy and not know his name?” Daphne pointed out and she chuckled and shook her head as she took a sip from her own coffee cup and Justin looked at his friend, shocked by her observations of him.

“That makes me sound so ... so cheap.”

“But it's so ... so true,” continued Daphne and she patted his knee; emphasizing that she was just teasing him.

“Maybe ... but if I didn't know their names before hand ... I always did afterwards ... I mean I didn't just fuck someone and walk away ... we always exchanged names and numbers.”

“And how many of them ever called you back?” Daphne asked him seriously, for she knew her friend so wanted to find someone to fall in love with that he often ended up falling for trash; guys who would use him but never call him back: something she could never understand.

Justin would be a catch in anyone's book. He had beautiful blue eyes, a killer smile and just about the world's most perfect hair. On top of that he was extremely talented, kind and sensitive and wanted to do right by everyone and Daphne just wished the right man would come along for him.

But now it looked like he'd been let down again, but this time it meant he'd miss out on the commission that would have come in so useful now that he owed so much back rent.

“If he's as hot as you say ... I wonder why he has to pay for it?” asked Daphne and Justin shrugged.

“I was wondering that myself ... maybe he's into S&M or water sports,” and he shuddered as Daphne pulled a face; both of them thinking that Justin probably got out of there just in time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For the first time since the start of Gus' visit, Brian poured himself a drink and closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of the Beam make its way down to his empty stomach.

The trick had gone. He'd been more than willing to do whatever Brian had wanted and was well schooled; knowing exactly the right buttons to push as Brian allowed himself to be lost totally in what they were doing. But for some unexplained reason, the look of disgust he'd seen on Taylor's face when the young man realized Brian thought he was his trick for the night, kept coming back to him; haunting him: staring at him with those incredible blue eyes.

Brian sighed; he would have to seek him out and explain the misunderstanding or he'd never hear the end of it and he didn't want to upset Lindsay. After all, she'd been so agreeable to him having Gus of late he didn't want to rock the boat on that score.

Brian wasn't exactly used to apologizing. Before the accident, he used to live his life exactly how he wanted: no regrets, which ultimately meant no apologies either and they still didn't sit easy with him. But it looked like he was going to have to make one this time.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The phone book had a J. Taylor listed in an apartment building just off Liberty Avenue, Pittsburgh which matched the number the young man had given him when he'd first called.

There was no avoiding it; Lindsay had set her heart on this portrait so he would have to try and talk Taylor around to agree to set up another meeting and apologize for the misunderstanding and that their disastrous first encounter deserved an apology in person, even though it had meant summoning up every ounce of courage he had in order to do so.

From behind the tinted glass of the BMW, Brian looked across the street. It was a pretty run down building and looked like it was in need of a lot of work: another reason to try and talk to the guy, because if this was the only place he could afford to live, then Taylor was definitely in need of the work and Brian frowned; wondering why that seemed so important to him.

Glancing behind to make sure the road was clear before getting out, Brian caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror. Lindsay was right, of course she was; outside of a few people, he was the only one who knew why he grew the beard and what it was covering up and taking a deep breath, Brian opened the car door and stepped into the street.

Taylor's apartment was on the top floor and it was no surprise that the elevator was out of service, but grateful that he was in pretty good shape, Brian was able to take the stairs and arrive outside the apartment without any ill effect. But he stood outside the young man's door a full minute before eventually knocking and then trying to make himself heard over the music he could hear from inside.

Justin had resigned himself to thinking the commission to paint the Kinney kid's portrait was all but dead and buried and he was getting ready for the art show and desperately hoping he'd do well. Immersed in his work and the CD player on pretty loud, he didn't hear the knocking the first time and it was only when the second knock came and louder than the first, did Justin look up from what he was doing and he reached out and turned the volume down on the player.

He looked at his watch. It couldn't be Daphne, her shift didn't finish until much later and Justin groaned; hoping it wasn't going to be Burrows. But looking through the peephole, Justin caught his breath and stepped back before taking another look. Brian Kinney was standing in the hallway and knocking on his door.

Brian was on the verge of walking away when he noticed that the music had been turned down, but it was a few minutes before there was a response to his knocking and he'd wondered if he was being deliberately ignored. But then the door was opened and once again, he found himself looking into those beautiful blue eyes and Brian coughed.

“I ... I didn't get around to introducing myself properly yesterday ... Brian Kinney ... I think there was a misunderstanding ...” and Brian hesitated for a moment before holding out his hand. Justin blinked; obviously the man wasn't used to showing up on someone's doorstep and he could tell by his voice that apologizing didn't come natural. But the fact that the man had come all this way had to count for something and Justin thought that just maybe he should give him the benefit of the doubt and he took Brian's hand. “Justin Taylor,” he answered and both men smiled.

Brian couldn't help but notice Justin's hand so much smaller than his own; delicate: an artist's hand and for a moment he didn't want to let go. And Justin hoped that Brian couldn't detect how much he was trying to stop himself from shaking at his touch; a reaction he didn't normally suffer from.

“You better come in,” said Justin; eventually breaking the silence that had overtaken them and they slowly dropped hands and Justin stepped back to allow Brian to enter and the older man looked around him; taking in his surroundings and Justin closed the door.

“This is ... “

“A dump,” chuckled Justin.

“I was going to say ... Interesting,” stated Brian, noticing the pieces of artwork standing around the room and leaning against the walls, but Justin shook his head.

“No ... it's a dump ... but at least it's my dump ... for the moment anyhow,” and he saw Brian frown as he looked at the younger man.

“A question of being a little behind with the rent and not seeing eye to eye with the landlord.”

“Ah,” acknowledged Brian and he nodded his understanding.

“But I've got a show coming up and I hope to do okay.”

“Well ... if this is anything to go by,” commented Brian and he walked over to one of the finished pieces. Justin observed him cross the room; he'd noticed how he carried himself before at the house, but now, even in smart casual wear, Brian looked elegant: his movements smooth and a pleasure to watch.

“Do you like it?” asked Justin. “Would it make any difference if I did?” came the honest reply, probably a little more quickly than he should have, as Brian looked back over his shoulder at him and Justin shrugged. But for some inexplicable reason, yes, it did matter, what this man thought of his work.

Brian took a deep breath and turned back to look at the piece he was standing in front of. It was so vibrant it was almost alive and about to jump right off the canvas and he nodded. “It's exquisite,” but it wasn't just words; Brian meant it. And although Brian didn't see it, Justin allowed himself a slight smile.

Brian closed his eyes briefly and rolled his lips into his mouth before turning around to face him.

“I ... I owe you an apology ... about last night ...”

“I guess I wasn't who you were expecting,” chuckled Justin and Brian nodded; grateful that the young man appeared to be helping him out with his explanation. But not only that, unless seriously impaired, Brian's gaydar was working overtime and was usually right on the button; he smiled.

“Shall we start again?” he asked him and Justin scratched behind his ear; an action that Brian found quite endearing and then the young man shrugged.

“I guess there's no real reason why not.”

“Good ... then you'd be interested in taking on the commission?” and Justin nodded. “If you think I'm what you want ... the type of artist I mean,” Justin stuttered and he tried hard not to blush and Brian tried hard not to show he'd noticed by wandering over to the large work area that Justin had set out in the middle of the room to study more of the younger man's art; greatly impressed by the quality of Justin's work.

“Yes ... I think so,” answered Brian and he glanced up at him and smiled and both men knew exactly what was happening; the subtle flirting that was going on between them and then Brian turned away from the table to face him full on.

“Then you'll come back out to the house ... my son is away for a couple of days ... staying ... staying at his Grandma's ... so if you want to come back then ... I promise to behave this time,” Brian chuckled; feeling so relaxed in this young man's company: more relaxed then he could remember in a very long time in fact and Justin smiled and nodded: unable to ignore the twinkle in the other man's eyes.

“Good ... then it's a date ... I mean,” and this time it was Brian who couldn't help smiling in slight embarrassment as he made his way to the door.

“See you in a couple of days,” stated Brian as Justin leaned passed him to open the door.

“Look forward to it,” came the younger man's reply and for probably longer than necessary, both men held each other's gaze; hazel eyes meeting blue and neither of them seemingly wanting to be the first to break away and finally it was Brian who looked away and down the hall.

“See you later,” Brian stated as he made for the stairs.

“Later,” answered Justin who couldn't help smiling himself as he closed the door.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Grandma Debbie ... why don't you love dad any more?” asked Gus innocently and from across the table, Carl glanced at her over his reading glasses as he waited for her response. Debbie blinked as she picked up a piece of toast and started to butter it.

“What's that honey?” she asked him; trying to give herself some thinking time and Gus put down his spoon.

“I heard uncle Vic and dad talking ... it sounded like the two of you had a fight ... but if you're my Grandma ... I thought dad must be your son ... and mom's always love their sons ... don't they?”

“But dad said you chose uncle Mikey over him ... that he was your real son,” Gus stated seriously, for in fact he'd been on his way back out to the kitchen to ask his dad something when he heard the, at times, slightly heated conversation between his dad and uncle. He hadn't understood that much of it, but enough to know it upset his dad and now the concern and confusion in his voice was obvious and Carl put down his paper and took off his glasses: this he had to hear.

Debbie sighed at the boy's words for in most cases of course he would be right about mother's loving their sons. She loved Michael and would protect him and fight for him with her last breath if she had to and she'd willingly taken on the role of mom to Brian, knowing the lack of love there was in that household and now Carl was staring at her; defying her to say she now no longer had feelings for Brian: her second son.

“You shouldn't go worrying yourself over things like that,” Debbie told Gus gently. “It's grown up stuff ... nothing you should concern yourself about ... now why don't you go and get washed up ... and we'll go and visit uncle Mikey at the store,” and Gus pushed his empty bowl away and left the table to go up to the bathroom.

“Don't go giving me that look,” instructed Debbie to Carl, once Gus had gone upstairs and she started to clear the table and losing her appetite.

“Well ... you didn't really answer the kid ... did you?” he stated and Debbie practically threw the dishes in the sink.

“You better be careful with those ... I don't think you can get that pattern any longer.”

“You saying my stuff's old?” Debbie rounded on him, but they both knew her temper had nothing to do with the age of the crockery.

“When are you going to admit you miss Brian?” Carl asked her as he got up from his chair and went to join her at the sink. “And that you still love him and that it's only your pride ...”

“I'll never forgive him for what nearly happened to Michael,” Debbie cut him off and she turned on the hot water tap.

“That's not what I asked,” Carl reminded her, but their discussion was cut short as Gus bounded down the stairs having brushed his teeth.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Justin Taylor ... you can't keep me hanging on like this ... you have to tell me!” pleaded Daphne as she followed Justin inside his apartment. He'd called her to say he'd had an unexpected visitor and she'd gone straight round there after her shift; dying to hear all about it.

“Oh my god ... what did he say ... what did he look like?” she asked him as soon as she closed the door and eventually, Justin couldn't prevent himself from grinning.

“He looked great ... and he wanted to apologize for mistaking me for ... well ... you know and to introduce himself properly ... and I swear Daphne when we shook hands I thought he was bound to see I was shaking ... and I never thought he was going to let go.”

Justin's obvious pleasure at his visit from Brian was hard to disguise, even if he'd wanted to.

“And?”

“And what?”

“The commission ... for the portrait ... are you going to do it?”

“Oh ... yeah ... sure ... I'm going back over there in a couple of days when the kid's back from visiting his Grandma.”

Daphne grabbed hold of him and hugged him. “That's wonderful news, Justin.”

“Whoa ... it's only a picture,” stated Justin as he pulled back, but Daphne kept on smiling: somehow she had the feeling it would be so much more than that.

“Oh ... can I borrow the car again ... please ... it's gonna be a while before I can get mine back from the shop,” pleaded Justin and Daphne sighed: how could she refuse.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Suddenly, Brian didn't feel quite so lonely any more; sure, he was alone and the house was still empty with Gus and Vic away, but it gave Brian the opportunity to knuckle down and finish his latest work without any interruption. Not that he didn't get interrupted, for every so often, Justin's smiling face as he'd agreed to give the portrait a go, kept coming back to him: a wonderful smile which lit up those beautiful blue eyes.

He couldn't believe how comfortable he'd felt in the younger man's company and that he was actually looking forward to him coming back to the house. But when he had to use the bathroom, Brian looked at himself in the mirror and sighed.

Who was he trying to fool? Justin didn't look much more than a kid and a pretty cute one at that. What the hell was he doing; thinking the blond would be interested in him and that whatever had passed between them at Justin's apartment was probably nothing more than the young man being polite to a potential employer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gus came back from his visit to Grandma Debbie with an armful of comic books given to him by uncle Michael from his store. He'd obviously enjoyed his stay and being fussed over and Brian couldn't help feeling the odd pang of jealousy as he picked up one of the comics and he closed his eyes briefly and dropped it back on the kitchen table. If it hadn't been for that damn comic book convention ....

“Hi, dad,” Gus came in from the stable where he'd been out to see Buttons and disturbed his father's train of thought and he gave his dad a hug. Brian smiled; it was so good to have him back.

“You were a good boy for Grandma?” Brian asked him as he ruffled the boy's hair and Gus scowled. “Course I was dad ... it was fun ... I like Grandma and Grandpa Carl ... but there's always so many people in their house all the time ... it's always busy,” and he turned to pick up the pile of books.

“I'll take these up to my room ... then will you come with me so I can have a proper ride on Buttons?” asked Gus.

“Sure ... he's been missing you,” informed his dad and trotting happily away, Gus headed for the stairs, meeting uncle Vic on the way down, after taking the boy's bag up to his room.

“Don't forget to unpack your laundry and throw it down the chute,” Vic reminded him.

“I won't,” came the reply as the boy disappeared upstairs and Vic chuckled as he joined Brian in the kitchen. “He's such a good kid.”

Brian smiled; barely taking notice of Vic's comment. He'd been deep in thought, for Gus' description of life in the Novotny household reminded him of what it had been like when he'd been a kid, with a constant stream of people in and out; staying for supper or just having a chinwag over a cup of coffee and always made to feel welcome.

There'd always been a lot of food at the Novotny's; an Italian trait, whereas in the Kinney household it had been booze; the downfall of two generations of Kinney male's it would seem and Brian was determined it wouldn't happen to Gus.

Brian was sure alcohol had been a crutch for his father; an abusive drunk who probably wouldn't have had the guts to lash out at his son all those times if it hadn't been for the courage his drinking had given him.

Though nowhere near the heavy drinker that his father had been, for Brian, alcohol was used to block out those times; to help him forget how unloved and unwanted he'd been made to feel during his childhood and beyond. But Gus would never feel like that; he would know how much he was loved and Brian would help make damn sure he never needed the alcohol or drugs he'd used in order to make it through the night; making those dark and lonely times just bearable.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin couldn't help but catch his breath; just like the first time he'd seen the house and he parked Daphne's car in the drive and taking his materials from the trunk, he'd barely made the front door when it was opened for him.

“Hi ... I'm Vic Grassi ... I work for Mr. Kinney ... let me help you with that,” and Vic took one of the boxes Justin was holding from the young man. Brian had seen the blond approach as he'd been watching from the window and Vic had frowned, confused when he saw Brian retreat to the study as the young man came up the path.

Brian had told Vic that he and Justin had re-arranged their meeting and Vic hadn't asked how they'd been in contact, but there was obviously something going on there, for Justin was expected and yet Brian had wanted to appear cool; indifferent almost, by withdrawing and not being on hand when he let the young man in.

Vic led Justin into the conservatory at the rear of the house. There were several plants and with the greenery and the air-conditioning, it was cool and comfortable and the light was excellent and leaving Justin there, he went to find Brian.

“He's here ... but you don't need me to tell you that,” stated Vic and he raised an eyebrow as Brian hesitated before getting up from behind the desk; Brian smiled but refused to acknowledge the comment and walked straight passed him. And Vic thought he could detect the scent of extremely expensive cologne on Brian; something he'd not bothered with in years.

Brian had tried to look as if he'd been working all morning, but periodically, Vic had found him looking out the window to the front of the house. And, when Brian left the room and Vic went to collect a dirty coffee mug from the desk, he caught sight of what was on the screen of Brian's laptop.

Brian had been logged into the archives of the Pittsburgh Art Gallery where, three years before, Justin Taylor had been one of their most promising emerging artists. Vic grinned: maybe Brian wasn't as disinterested as he made out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Is this okay?” asked Brian as he entered the room to find Justin setting things out on the table. Justin glanced up; there'd been no hello or pleasantries: it was straight down to business and he couldn't help sighing. He was getting so many conflicting vibes from the man: on their first meeting he was rude and arrogant and then next time apologetic and pleasant and, Justin had thought, flirtatious. But now he seemed to be cool and aloof and Justin wondered what the hell was going on in the man's mind; trying to read his eyes and not for the first time did he feel a little shiver up his spine when those hazel eyes fell on him.

“This is fine ... thanks ... Mr. Kinney,” answered Justin, smiling and he saw how Brian's eyes flickered and seemed a little harder as he spoke.

“It's Brian ... Mr. Kinney always sounds like my father,” the older man informed him coolly and Justin couldn't help notice the edge in the man's voice that matched the coldness in his eyes.

“I'm not sure how far we'll get today,” Justin continued, hoping the man's mood would lighten. “But I thought I'd bring my gear with me anyhow,” and Brian nodded in understanding and the two of them faced each other and Justin put his hands on his waist.

“Where is he?” he asked eventually and Brian blinked; almost forgetting why Justin was actually there and he swallowed. “I'll ... I'll go give him a call,” came the reply and Justin couldn't help smiling as Brian left the room and he heard him calling for his son.

Two minutes later, a good looking 8-year old came in with his dad and Justin couldn't help but notice the likeness. He also couldn't help notice how Brian changed the moment he was around his son; he seemed to become instantly more relaxed and looked at the boy like he was the only thing in the world that mattered and the affection in his tone was obvious.

“Justin ... this is Gus ... Justin's going to be doing the portrait,” stated Brian to his son; his hands on Gus' shoulders protectively and the boy held out his hand. Justin smiled. “Good to meet you Gus,” and they shook hands and Justin stepped back to look at him.

“What?” asked Brian at Justin's expression. “Well ... I was just wondering ... what Gus should be wearing.”

“Wearing?” queried Brian and Justin nodded as he studied the young man in his plain white tee. “Sure ... what he's wearing ... the color ... it all contributes to the overall effect.”

“I've got that nice blue shirt,” suggested Gus as he looked up at his father and Brian looked at Justin for confirmation.

“That'll be good,” acknowledged the younger man and at his father's agreement, Gus went off to change.

“Kids,” chuckled Brian. “8-years old and a fashion fiend,” and Justin smiled up at him and produced a digital camera from his bag.

“That looks expensive ... but not the sort of gear I would have thought a traditional artist would be carrying around with him,” observed Brian.

“My mom bought it for me for my birthday ... I actually find it quite useful ... though I have to admit it's not standard kit.”

“I just thought that if Gus is like any other 8-year old ... getting him to sit still for any length of time is going to be practically impossible ... at least if I take a few shots with this ... I can do some of the work from them.”

Brian nodded, but his mind was working overtime. If Justin took photographs to work from, it meant that maybe he wouldn't need to spend all the time at the house and he was sort of looking forward to having the younger man around.

A few minutes later, Gus came bounding back into the room and Brian reached for him and straightened the boy's collar; an action that didn't go unnoticed by Justin and that only served to reinforce the bond there so obviously was between father and son.

“That's better,” stated Justin and he looked around for a chair and the right place to sit the boy.

Brian watched, intrigued, as Justin set about his work: taking everything into account. Like watching the light by noting the direction of the sun so that it wouldn't be in Gus' face but allowing for the right amount of natural light to shine on him and deciding what, if anything, would be in the background.

After Justin decided on the right place to set the chair and then settling Gus and making sure he was comfortable, he spent the next few minutes taking photographs from various positions. “I'll have a look at these ... work out the best angle before I start ... and before it all gets too much,” he smiled at Brian; knowing it was unlikely that Gus would be content to sit here like this for very long.

Having put the camera down, Brian was then much relieved to see Justin take out his sketchbook. “I like to make a couple of quick preliminary sketches too ... makes me think more like an artist,” he informed him and Brian smiled.

Trying to keep Gus still and quiet was going to be a nightmare, realized Brian and the boy couldn't stop chatting to Justin while he was trying to draw. But it wasn't long before there was a very passable likeness on the page and satisfied with the rough sketch, Justin passed the book to Brian.

“Is that what you have in mind?” asked Justin and Brian nodded; for even in this short time, Justin had got Gus' likeness down exactly.

Twenty minutes; tops. That's how long before Gus began to squirm in his seat and start to look uncomfortable and a little bored and now Brian understood why Justin wanted to take the photographs. If he could only work in 20-minute stretches, it would take a month of Sundays to complete the portrait.

Gus looked at his dad and Brian smiled. “Okay ... I guess that's enough before you start getting cranky.” “I don't get cranky,” contradicted Gus and Justin smiled at the interaction between the pair. “Well ... go on up and take the shirt off ... and hang it up,” called Brian after him as Gus ran upstairs.

“I guess that's all for today ... we can fix another time and I'll take a look at these later,” said Justin and he picked up the camera from the table.

Brian's stomach lurched; this was over far too quickly.

“Do you have to leave ... I mean ... if you don't have to rush away ... you could always stay ... use the laptop in the study.”

Justin turned the camera over in his hands as he thought. “Okay ... that'd be good,” and he chuckled. “Keep me out of the landlord's clutches for a little longer at least.”

Brian blinked. “Is he a problem?” he asked, suddenly anxious. “No ... I can handle him,” stated Justin; he'd meant it as a joke, but it looked like Brian had taken it quite seriously by his concern.

“Well ... let me show you where the laptop is ... it's hooked up to a printer if you want hard copies,” stated Brian and he lead Justin down the hall; Justin hesitated just in side the door to the study.

“So ... is this where it all happens?” he asked Brian.

“What's that?”

“Where you write your screenplays.”

“You know about those?” asked Brian, shocked that Justin actually knew who he was.

“Sure ... I saw your latest release with a friend of mine not too long ago.” Justin was dying to ask Brian why he wrote such sad endings to his stories, but now wasn't the time: maybe later when he got to know him better. And Justin inwardly smiled; he certainly would like to get to know Brian Kinney better.

“Well ... it's a living,” stated Brian, almost dismissive about his work and suddenly, Brian quickened his pace to get to the laptop before Justin saw what he was still logged on to and Brian closed down the Pittsburgh Art Gallery site.

Justin had brought with him the complete camera bag, which included the USB connector and he hooked the camera up to the laptop and sat behind the desk.

Brian went to stand behind him in order to see the screen. There were a dozen pictures; he hadn't realized Justin had taken so many: all from varying positions to find the right angle.

Brian leaned forward over Justin's shoulder to get a better look and, for the first time, the blond could detect the faint scent of Brian's cologne and he closed his eyes; his head starting to get giddy. Brian's chin was practically resting on his shoulder; he could almost feel his beard and he could certainly feel the heat emanating from him. And when Brian reached out to point at the image on the screen, it almost felt as if he had his arms around him and Justin's mouth went dry and when Brian spoke to him, he couldn't reply.

“I like that one ... but then I'm not an artist,” stated Brian and Justin tried to swallow.

Being so close to Justin, Brian had to fight the temptation to run his fingers through the blond hair: it looked so soft and silky and he could detect the scent of the shampoo that still lingered and looking over the younger man's shoulder, Brian breathed him in and it was all he could do to retain his senses and still sound rational.

Justin tried to concentrate on the images on the screen and he struggled to find the words to acknowledge the one Brian had indicated. “That ... that one's good ... it's probably the best angle for Gus ... if we can print it off ... it'll help me when it gets too much for him.”

Justin turned to look directly at Brian; his face just inches away from the older man's and Brian met his gaze. He saw Justin's lips part as the young man's heart missed a beat; beautiful lips, just made for kissing and for a moment, neither man moved.

“Dad ... uncle Vic wants to know if Justin's staying for lunch.” Gus came bounding into the room and Brian closed his eyes before straightening up, but wondering what might have happened if his son hadn't suddenly appeared like that.

“Dad?” asked Gus again and Brian coughed. “You're very welcome to stay, Justin ... if you want to carry on with this today that is,” asked Brian, trying to keep the pleading tone from his voice and Justin smiled.

“I ... I'd like that ... Thanks.”

“Then I'll leave you to get on ... we'll call you when lunch is ready,” stated Brian and taking Gus by the shoulder, he guided his son from the room and once out in the hall, he took a deep breath.

“Are you okay, dad?” asked Gus and Brian tried to smile. “Sure ... let's go see what Vic is up to,” and thankful to put a little distance between them; at least for a short while, Brian was happy to leave Justin in the study.

Justin had breathed a sigh of relief when Brian walked out the door with Gus; the heady mix of subtle cologne and the nearness of him had sent his senses reeling; the man so confusing with his mood and demeanor swinging one way and then the other.

After the other evening, when he'd mistaken Justin for a trick, Brian was obviously gay, but he had a son. Was he raising him, Justin wondered or married to the boy's mother? Did he live a double life; caught up in the make-believe he wrote about so convincingly?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thirty minutes later, Gus went to find Justin to tell him lunch was ready and found him back in the conservatory. He'd printed out a couple of pictures of Gus and had gone back out to the car to collect canvas and easel and the rest of his equipment. He wasn't sure how far they'd get today, but he'd brought everything with him in the hope he could at least get set up for when he could continue.

Gus led Justin to the kitchen, where a lunch of cold cuts and salad was already laid out on the table. “Wow ... I don't usually eat much during the day ... actually ... I don't usually eat,” admitted Justin as Vic put the jug of homemade lemonade on the table.

“Well ... Vic'll get pretty upset if there's anything left,” stated Brian and he squeezed the older man's shoulder affectionately. “Too right ... dig in,” Vic instructed and Justin drew out a chair and sat along side him.

The conversation around the table was light and friendly and Justin quickly felt at ease and able to join in. He couldn't help notice how well the three males of the household got on together, with Brian's obvious affection and respect for Vic as well as the love he showed for his son.

Gus' ability for chatter had never failed to amaze Brian, but now it seemed his son was equally matched by Justin, who's seemed seemed to fit right in straight away and whose enthusiasm for just about everything made Brian chuckle.

Justin's main passion of course was for his art, which was overwhelming, and Brian couldn't help notice how he occasionally rubbed his hand; sometimes absentmindedly flexing his fingers.

“I guess that's a penalty of being an artist,” indicated Brian, as he saw Justin ball up his fist and then stretch out his fingers for the third time.

“What?” asked Justin and then he realized what he was doing and he glanced at Gus. “Something like that,” he stated, not wanting to go into gory details in front of the boy, but it was pretty obvious to the adults that there was more to that statement than met the eye.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lunch was a very enjoyable occasion and there wasn't really anything more Justin could do today, but he, Brian and Gus agreed that Justin would come to the house every morning and paint as much as Gus could manage and then do what he could from the photographs.

“It is the school break after all,” stated Brian. “I can't expect him to want to stay in the house for much of the time,” and Justin nodded in understanding and he picked up his camera and sketchbook as these he was taking home with him.

Brian watched as Justin drove away; turning back to wave to father and son standing on the doorstep.

“He's nice,” stated Gus and he pulled away from his dad and trotted back inside.

“Yeah ... he is,” agreed Brian, quietly and to no one but himself and he closed the door.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Over the next few days, a routine was more or less established: Justin would come out to the house; still using Daphne's car and Gus would sit for him. Then, when Gus had enough, Justin would continue working from the photographs.

Brian asked if it was okay if he stayed while Justin worked and initially the younger man had thought it was to make sure Gus was okay. But increasingly he'd glance up and find the man watching him and Justin would have to close his eyes and mentally shake his head to maintain his concentration.

Brian had already made the decision that he wouldn't work on anything during the school break; that he wanted to be around as much as he could to enjoy his son's visit and for them to spend some real quality time together. But deep down, he knew it was because he also wanted to spend as much time in Justin's company as he could; for as long as it lasted.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gus beat Vic to the door and let Justin in and then disappeared again, saying he was in the middle of something and would be right back. Vic chuckled and shook his head as the boy trotted off. “He's been doing some painting of his own,” Vic informed Justin. “I think he wants to get it for you.”

Gus was getting better at sitting still and quiet and the length of the sessions was gradually increasing, but this morning, Justin had turned up looking pretty tired and already starting to feel at home, asked Vic if there was any chance of a cup of coffee and they went into the kitchen.

“Heavy night?” chuckled Vic as he pulled out two mugs from the cupboard.

“Yes ... but not what you're thinking,” stated Justin, trying to suppress a yawn and he saw Vic raise an eyebrow. “I was painting ... I've got a show next week ... I really need to do well ... I'm still using a friend's car ... I can't get my own out of the shop until I can pay the bill.”

“If you need an advance against the portrait ... I'm sure Brian ...”

Justin waved the older man's suggestion away and shook his head. “I couldn't take a handout ... I expect to get paid once the portrait is completed ... not before,” stated Justin, taking the mug of strong coffee he was handed and he looked around him.

“Where's Brian?” he asked; trying not to sound too disappointed that the man wasn't there to greet him as he'd done every morning so far.

“He's had to go to the bank ... one of his insurances got screwed up and they needed his signature ... something I couldn't do for him.”

“You do a lot of that sort of thing?” asked Justin; taking a sip of his drink and Vic nodded. “Brian doesn't really go out very much,” and he saw Justin frown.

“He's just not very good around a lot of people,” stated Vic, hoping he'd not said too much and he indicated a chair.

“You mean like a phobia?” asked Justin as he took his seat at the kitchen table.

“Not exactly,” said Vic slowly and Justin put up his hand. “Sorry ... I'm not prying .. it's just ... I've never seen any photographs of him ... he never appears on any of the publicity for his movies ... so it's not like people would recognize him and hassle him,” observed Justin. “Other than ...” and he hesitated.

“Other than what?” asked Vic, curious and Justin looked a little embarrassed. “Well ... he is pretty hot.”

“You think?” Vic asked him, putting down his mug and he saw the younger man start to blush. In fact, Justin was finding it increasingly difficult to keep just how attracted he was to Brian under wraps, but it was hard to gauge exactly what the man felt for him; if anything.

“Well ... yeah ... sure ... don't you?” Justin stuttered. It had already been established that Vic was gay and he had wondered what his relationship was to Brian, other than that of housekeeper.

Vic nodded. “Yeah ... I guess he is pretty hot ... not that I think of him in that way ... to me he's family ... I've known him since he was 14 ... he was best friends with my sister's kid,” and Vic sat back in his chair and picked up his mug from which he took a sip. There was something about Justin that made people feel relaxed and open up; maybe it was because the young man seemed so honest and forthright himself, that it just seemed to encourage the same response from everyone else.

Vic chuckled. “A few years ago and Brian practically had to fight the guys off with a stick ... he wasn't known as the stud of Liberty Avenue for nothing ... he couldn't go anywhere without guys hitting on him and he didn't turn down that many ... but mind you ... it was generally Brian doing the chasing.”

Justin's eyes opened wide in surprise; not at the fact that guys had found Brian attractive and that it sounded like he'd deserved his reputation, but because this image just didn't seem to fit the one of reserved and dedicated father that he'd observed in the last few days. For Justin had seen for himself the genuine displays of love between father and son and the affectionate banter between them.

There was so much more Justin would have loved to ask, but he heard Brian's car pull up the drive: there were obviously a lot of layers to Mr. Kinney and Justin silently hoped he'd get to peel a few of them away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The portrait was keeping pretty much to schedule, but now it was Friday and the start date for the art show had come around. Brian already knew Justin wouldn't be working on the portrait on the weekend and tonight, there was to be an evening reception and then the show would run for three days. And, at that reception and over the weekend, the artists were expected to be on hand in order to talk about their work to invited guests, any of the art critics covering the show, or with any potential buyers. And Justin was mentally crossing his fingers, hoping to sell at least one of his pieces, in order to keep his head above water.

And, just after lunch as he was packing up, Justin brought an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Brian.

“What's this ... your bill already?” teased Brian and Justin shook his head. “No ... it's an invitation to the reception ... for the show ... just in case you get time to come along,” and Brian nodded, knowing full well just how much free time he actually had at the moment.

“Thanks ... but I'm not sure how pushed I am,” answered Brian; not wanting Justin to know exactly how empty his life was; for without Gus and his work, there was nothing left.

“Oh sure ... no pressure ... it was just a thought.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Justin ... I am so proud of you,” and Jennifer Taylor beamed at him and then hugged her son; much to his embarrassment. It was the cocktail reception and Justin's work was already attracting a lot of attention.

Having finally come to terms with Justin's sexuality, Jennifer was now his staunchest supporter. Not that it had been easy in those early days; learning her teenage son was sleeping with men and tracking him down to gay bars in the early hours of the morning as she tried to ensure her 17 year old would come to no harm. When in the end it wasn't the gay community who had hurt him; it had been a seemingly straight class mate who had nearly killed him and almost destroyed his life. And on top of that, having to deal with her husband's hostility as well as his repeated infidelity, which led to the break-up of their marriage.

But now Jennifer was a qualified Realtor and a PFLAG mom and proud of it and though Justin had long ago stopped attending any of their BBQ's or other fund-raising events; one of his most proudest days was when he marched with his mom in the Pride Parade.

“Congratulations, Justin,” came the voice behind him and Justin turned around to come face to face with his mother's boyfriend and his smile quickly disappeared as the man passed Jennifer her drink.

“Tucker.”

“This is all very impressive ... you must be pleased.”

Justin managed a slight smile; hardly able to hide his obvious dislike for the man and his disapproval at their relationship.

Not that his mother didn't deserve to be happy or have someone in her life of course, but the fact that he was so many years her junior made Justin uncomfortable. It would seem that Justin coming to terms with his mother being seen as attractive to men other than his father and as a sexual being in her own right, was no different than Jennifer coming to terms with Justin's homosexuality.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The weekends of course were like any other day of the week with Gus there and not working over the summer. But after having Justin around for most of the last week, Saturday and Sunday seemed strangely empty without him and Brian had found himself often wandering into the conservatory, where Justin's equipment had been left.

The portrait had been carefully covered up to protect it and Brian didn't dare disturb it; promising faithfully that he wouldn't touch it. But he couldn't help lightly touching the brushes, pots of paint, a palette for mixing the colors and other equipment Justin had left behind. Brian didn't understand the mechanics of course, though he had asked Justin why he was doing certain things. Everything seemed so painstaking and Justin obviously had tremendous patience. But then he'd demonstrated that not only in his work but in his dealings with an 8-year old boy.

He enjoyed watched Justin as he worked; losing himself so entirely in his art and Brian had begun to realize just how important art was to him; how it consumed the young man and here surrounded by everything that was Justin, he didn't seem so far away.

Brian sighed and went out into the kitchen. It was Sunday morning and Vic had taken Gus out for a drive; he loved spending time with the boy and there was a park Gus liked with a lake and wild fowl and they'd taken a picnic for themselves and loaf of bread with them for the ducks.

Brian picked up the envelope that he'd left at the back of the counter; the invitation and knew he should really have gone and that Justin hadn't been obliged to invite him, which probably meant he'd actually wanted him to go and he sighed at his foolishness and hated himself for disappointing the young man.

Having poured himself a fresh mug of coffee Brian took it over to the window looking out onto the garden. He took a swallow from his mug and put it down on the counter; Vic had left a copy of the local paper on the surface and absentmindedly, Brian started to thumb through its pages. And then an article jumped out at him.

The Pittsburgh annual art show for established as well as emerging artists had attracted a piece in the paper and Brian rolled his lips into his mouth as he read the details giving the times and dates of the show and wondered whether after all, he could summon up the courage to go. He'd been totally overwhelmed by the young man's work back at the apartment; Justin was obviously incredibly talented and seeing his creations in their proper setting would only serve to enhance them.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“That's the third time you've looked at that article,” observed Vic as he cleared away the dishes after their evening meal.

“Is it? I hadn't realized,” came back Brian from behind the paper and Vic couldn't resist a chuckle. “You know it is,” and he threw the dish towel over his shoulder and sat down next to Brian at the kitchen table.

Meals were only ever taken in the kitchen these days, whereas in the past and especially when entertaining potential clients of Kinnetik, Brian would get in caterers; more than likely Emmett and the large table in the dining room would be laid out beautifully with the best silverware and china. But it had been a long time since any entertaining had taken place in this house.

Gus had gone upstairs to watch the Disney Channel and Brian had picked up the paper and sat down at the table after their meal and Vic sighed and reached out and pulled the paper down so that he could see Brian's face.

“Why don't you go and see his show ... you know you want to.”

“Says you,” answered Brian and Vic smiled. “I've been watching you these last few days Brian Kinney ... and I don't ever recall seeing you like this around someone before ... so go ... you've got plenty of time ... it doesn't finish until 10:00 ... I'll watch Gus.”

On several occasions, Vic had taken refreshments into the conservatory and hadn't failed to catch the look on Brian's face as he watched the young man working or just generally around him. He was obviously enthralled by the young man's art, but Vic had thought he'd detected more than that: that Brian had feelings for the young man.

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about,” came back from Brian and he put the paper down and got up.

“Are you going back into the conservatory again?” called Vic after him and Brian hesitated in the doorway. That's exactly where he had been heading, but instead, Brian now went upstairs and looked in on Gus.

“Hi, dad ... you wanna watch Rugrats with me?” Brian blinked and chewed his lip and finally shook his head.

“Hmm ... no ... not tonight champ ... there's other stuff I need to do.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was 9:30 Sunday and with his fingers entwined, Justin stretched his arms out in front of him and then he put his hands behind his head and arched his back; stretching. It was proving to be a busy show, as well as the period that had led up to it.

The last few days had started with him going out to West Virginia on the Friday morning to work on Gus' portrait and then in the afternoon supervising getting his work to the gallery and helping to hang it in position. Then there'd been just enough time to dash back home to shower and change to return in time for the official opening and reception.

But Justin smiled to himself; he'd attracted a lot of very favorable comments and had been interviewed by the art critics who had attended and had received some wonderful feedback from them and guests alike. But on top of that he'd sold one large and two small pieces of his work already; enough to pay to get his car fixed and to cover the amount of rent owing on his apartment as well as being able to stock up on supplies. There was only one thing that disappointed him.

After giving Brian an invitation to the reception, he hoped the man might come down himself to take a look. But in the end it would seem Brian's wariness of being out in crowds had proved to be too much. He knew Brian was interested in his art; he'd seen that at the apartment and how he asked intelligent questions while he was working on the portrait. But not interested enough it would seem to come and take a look at a formal show.

And now it was only half-an-hour until the show closed for the night and people were drifting away and after talking to an elderly couple who had been admiring his work and asking him about it, Justin had escorted them to the door and then returned to his section of the gallery and stretched his limbs.

The gallery had become pretty quiet, now that almost everyone had gone, save for the staff and fellow artists and Justin heard the door open behind him but took no notice, until he felt a presence standing by his side.

“I said it before ... and I'll say it again ... it's exquisite.”

Justin blinked and turned to face the man standing by his side who was studying his work and he couldn't prevent a huge grin spreading across his face; Brian looked back at him and the grin was returned.

“Then you do like it?” asked Justin, daring to ask for confirmation and hoping he hadn't sounded needy of Brian's approval.

“It shouldn't really matter what anyone else thinks,” Brian informed him. “You're the artist ... its creator ... it's how you feel about it that matters ... and it seems to me you've put your entire self into your work,” and Brian now moved across the floor to study pieces he didn't see back at the apartment; especially several darker pieces: menacing almost and he frowned.

“What ... what is it?” Justin asked him and Brian chewed his lip.

“It's okay ... you can tell me ... whether you love them or hate them.”

“Well ... to be honest ... I think I know what they're saying ... but I'm not sure I understand why,” Brian informed him and Justin moved to stand beside him. “Tell me what you see,” he encouraged him and Brian took a deep breath.

“Pain ... there's a lot of pain and anguish in these ... just these few pictures ... it's like ... it's like the heart and soul has been ripped out,” observed Brian and now it was Justin's turn to be amazed and he felt himself go cold; no one saw that element of his work and certainly no one else really understood it.

And then Brian moved onto the next pieces; brighter, with flashes of brilliant reds, oranges and yellows. “But in these there's hope ... spirit ... something new and reborn,” and he turned back to look at Justin to find the young man's eyes brimming with tears.

“Justin?”

“I'm okay.”

Justin turned away; unwilling for Brian to see him so weak and vulnerable but the man reached out for him. “Hey ... what did I say ... it's all brilliant ... every piece.”

Justin shook his head. “No one ever gets ...” and he stopped; unable to complete his sentence and shaking with emotion.

Brian studied him; he was pale and looked exhausted. Preparing for the show had obviously taken everything out of him and Brian was only just beginning to understand the pressure the young man had been under lately; trying to get everything ready and then on top, taking on the commission to paint Gus' portrait, not to mention being short on cash. And Brian kicked himself: he should have offered to help.

“Let's get out of here ... are you hungry?” Brian asked him, but Justin shook his head. “No ... I managed to grab something earlier.”

“Then do you need to stay?”

“No ... everything's going to stay as it is for another day ... so ...”

“Then I'm taking you home,” stated Brian and he stretched out his arm; indicating the door. Too exhausted to argue, Justin stooped and picked up his bag and allowed Brian to steer him out to the car and ten minutes later, they were climbing the stairs back to the apartment.

Justin felt so very weary; hardly able to put one foot in front of the other and he fumbled for his key in his pocket and then Brian saw a look of pain in the young man's face as his fingers failed to keep a grip on the small metal object and it fell to the floor; Brian stooped to pick it up. And seeing how Justin was rubbing his hand, Brian opened up the door and then handed Justin back the key, which the young man managed to take.

“That seems to be happening a lot,” observed Brian at Justin's discomfort and he saw Justin close his eyes. “If only you knew,” came the reply and Justin went inside and left the door open; an invitation for Brian to follow.

Going over to the sink, Justin filled the jug and put on some water for fresh coffee.

“Maybe I should go,” observed Brian. “You look pretty beat,” but Justin shook his head.

“Stay ... have coffee and I'll tell you why you saw what you did in my paintings.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

An hour later and they were sitting on the sofa; coffee going cold in the cups and Justin was still talking and Brian listened in horror as the young man described the bashing and how afterwards, he'd fought to regain use of his drawing hand.

And, even after he'd recovered a good percentage of use back in his hand, that there was a time when he thought he couldn't go on. That was when he produced the dark paintings that Brian had described with pain and anguish; the life ripped out of them: the life ripped out of Justin. For that was how he'd felt; that he might as well be dead if he couldn't paint.

And then when he'd regained his will; his determination to carry on, that was when he'd produced the work where Brian had seen the hope and re-birth.

Justin had put everything he'd been feeling down onto canvas: reliving his hurt through his work in the hope of purging himself; though some of that hurt would always remain.

And Brian had been the first person who had been able to put those feelings into words: something not even his mother or Daphne had managed to do.

And now the tears were streaming down the young man's face as he re-lived that darkest time for Brian and the older man could feel himself getting more furious and more desperate for the anguish Justin had experienced: was still experiencing and he hadn't even realized he'd moved closer to him until he suddenly found the younger man in his arms.

Brian held him and tried to comfort him; Justin quaking with the huge sobs that coursed through him and Brian closed his eyes and stroked the blond hair. It was silky soft and in all his years, he'd never felt as close to anyone as he did now; not even to Michael and he could feel himself falling: after all, he was no stranger to hurt and pain himself.

Justin clung to him and although Brian was glad he could be there for him, he also didn't want to let him go: it felt so good. Other than Gus, it had been a long time since anyone had really needed him, if indeed anyone else ever really had. But suddenly, regaining his senses, a feeling of guilt overtook Brian. How could he have any feelings of pleasure in holding this young man like this, when he was in such obvious distress.

For Justin, moving into Brian’s arms had seemed the most natural thing in the world. Something told him that Brian had his own demons and would understand his anguish and holding him, Brian made him feel safe and protected. But just as the sobs were subsiding and when he was beginning to feel relaxed, he felt Brian's body stiffen; as if pushing him away.

Sniffing, Justin turned in Brian's arms and looked up at him and Brian could have melted on the spot; looking into those beautiful blue eyes filled with so much pain and uncertainty as to why he felt the man was rejecting him.

Brian's own eyes showed signs of confusion; but they also shone with concern or, was it affection? This wasn't the first time they'd been close enough to kiss and Brian saw Justin's lips part and the younger man reached up to stroke Brian's face.

Brian drew back, but not before Justin thought he could feel something beneath the man's beard with those sensitive fingers.

Sliding out from under Justin, Brian pushed himself up off the sofa.

“I think I better leave.”

“I'm sorry ... I didn't mean ... shit ...” Justin rubbed his face; he couldn't believe how he'd come on to Brian like that when all the man was doing was literally offering him a shoulder to cry on: no wonder Brian wanted to run away.

“That's okay ... I can't imagine how intense it’s all been ... getting ready for the show ... you look pretty drained,” stated Brian and Justin managed a slight smile and nodded. Brian was right; he felt totally depleted having poured out his heart and soul into his art. But that was the only way Justin could be: when he gave, he gave completely.

Justin wanted desperately to tell Brian he didn't have to go; that he would give anything for the man to stay, but the uncertainty in Brian's face stopped him and for a moment, they held each other's gaze and then Brian smiled.

“You better get some sleep ... if you don't feel like turning up tomorrow ...”

“No ... that's okay ... I'll be there,” promised Justin and he started to get up off the sofa.

“It's okay ... I'll see myself out,” stated Brian, but with every inch of him wanting to stay and knowing what would likely happen if he did, but Brian didn’t dare. Didn't dare to even begin to think that someone might actually want him and that all Justin was probably feeling was gratitude; for him being there, listening and understanding.

 

 

 

- o O o -

 

 

 

Chapter Four:

Justin really thought he'd blown it.

When Brian had left the apartment, Justin had groaned and dragged himself up off the sofa and just tumbled on to his bed without even undressing. Brian must think he was a real moron for coming on to him like that and maybe he'd misread the signs that the man was interested in him and that all he'd felt in those strong arms that encircled him had been friendship. But it wasn't long until exhaustion overtook him and it was almost noon the next day before Justin woke up.

“Shit,” Justin grabbed the clock and took a closer look, just in case he'd misread it and crawling from the bed, he grabbed a towel, a change of clothes and his toilet bag and headed for the bathroom down the hall. But he didn't stay there long; the water in the shower was freezing, the damned landlord was cutting back again.

“That's another week you're behind,” Burrows reminded him as he met Justin in the hallway.

“Don't worry ... you'll get your money in the next few days,” Justin informed him and he couldn't fail to notice the look of disappointment on the other man's face: he had plans for Justin if the young man didn't come through with the rent and now it looked like he might not get his hands on him after all.

But the truth of the matter was that still being relatively unknown, the art he'd sold would just cover Justin's outstanding bills and in a few weeks, he'd likely be back to square one.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was almost 1:00 by the time Justin arrived at Brian's; the man not really expecting him after last night. But now, opening the door, Brian realized just how disappointed he'd been when it looked like Justin wasn't going to show.

“Sorry I'm late ... I overslept.”

“That's okay,” answered Brian. “I wasn't really expecting you,” and he stepped back to let the younger man in. Brian had been in the study when he'd heard the doorbell ring and had expected Vic to answer, but on the third ring, had been forced to go himself.

Justin hesitated in the hallway and Brian couldn't fail to see his embarrassment.

“'bout last night ...”

“Forget about it ... I have,” Brian informed him as he turned away and Justin's heart fell; he'd actually hoped that Brian would remember it: remember their closeness and even wonder what might have happened had he stayed, for the longer he spent in Brian's company, the more attracted to him Justin was becoming and he'd started to hope that Brian might feel the same way.

Brian was a man of mystery; though never volunteering any information about himself, Justin felt there was something in Brian's past that the man wanted to keep hidden. Justin was so sure he'd detected more than friendship in Brian's concern, but something in the man's reaction told him he wasn't used to having guys fall all over him of late. But Justin couldn't think for one moment why that was and would never dream it was because Brian himself wouldn't let anyone get close.

When Brian said he'd forgotten about the previous night, he'd hoped Justin didn't detect the lie in his voice. How could he forget last night; holding the younger man in his arms; so close he could almost taste him and wanting to comfort him; chase away whatever demons were still dragging him under. And when Justin had looked up at him with eyes still filled with tears but mixed with confusion at Brian's sudden coldness, Brian had hated himself for pushing him away, but knowing he had no choice.

Justin was like no one he'd ever met before. When he looked at him, Brian sometimes thought the younger man could look straight through him. Or worse; look down deep inside him: those blue eyes boring into his very soul and he couldn't allow that. Justin didn't know him; what he'd done and what he still carried with him and when he'd reached out to touch Brian's face: well Brian hoped he'd pulled back before Justin had a chance to touch the scars.

Justin watched as Brian turned his back and for a moment, thought he saw something in Brian's eyes that contradicted the words that came out of his mouth. But now, looking at him, something else suddenly came to mind.

Justin knew he'd been pretty upset last night and remembered now reaching for Brian; stroking his face. And remembered vaguely that he thought he felt something beneath the man's beard; hard ridges along his lower cheek and jaw line. Scars? Was Brian's face marked? Is that why he grew a beard or had he imagined them?

With his mind working overtime, Justin was making his way to the conservatory, when he couldn't help hearing Gus calling from upstairs.

“Dad ... mom's on the phone,” and Brian excused himself to go back to the study to take the call.

So, Gus' mother was still around and trying to understand who and what Brian Kinney was, Justin couldn't help but be curious as to his relationship with her and couldn't resist asking Gus about her, even though it wasn't his normal nature to pry.

“Where is your mom, Gus?” Justin asked him lightly as the boy trotted into the conservatory.

“Toronto ... mom and Mama took me and my sister up there to live ... I come down to see dad during the holidays,” replied Gus as he settled in the chair and Justin smiled. Well now, maybe things were starting to make a little more sense on that score at least.

Lesbians ... well at least they still needed the guys for one thing, thought Justin and who wouldn't want a kid by Brian?

Brian had become wary about Lindsay's calls. It was okay when Gus was back home, but when he was with Brian he dreaded them, just in case there was something he needed to tell her; like Gus had a stomach ache, or had fallen off his roller skates: giving her and Melanie any excuse to come and get him and cut his visit short. But this time at least, he only had good news for Lindsay; that everything with Gus was good and that the painting was well underway and beginning to look great. And when Lindsay had asked about the artist, Brian had merely said he seemed okay.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian had now, very reluctantly decided he couldn't spend all his time watching Justin work; that it might give the young man the wrong idea and had taken himself off to try and do a little research for his next movie. As long as Gus was occupied for a little while, then he might as well do something for himself and for the first time, Brian was absent from their session and Justin began to wonder if the man was trying to avoid him.

Later, when Gus had gone to use the bathroom, Vic brought in coffee and sandwiches into the conservatory. He'd been in earlier to say 'Hi' and seen that Justin had looked a little flustered and guessed he'd been in a rush and not had time to eat.

“So ... how did the show go?” Vic asked him and Justin nodded as he took a swallow of coffee.

“Good ... thanks.”

“I expect you got loads of interest,” ventured the older man and Justin thought he caught a twinkle in Vic's eye.

“Yeah ... I did,” Justin answered; deciding not to expand any further and Vic nodded. Last night after Brian had been up to check on Gus, he'd come back downstairs and asked Vic if he could take him up on his offer to look after the boy while he went out.

Vic had heard Brian come in just after midnight and he'd looked at the clock. The art show was due to close at 10:00, so presumably, Brian had been with Justin since then. At breakfast, Vic wasn't going to say anything, assuming that if the man wanted him to know any details, then he'd tell him. But after Gus had gone up to brush his teeth and Vic was loading the dishwasher, Brian helped take the rest of the dirty breakfast dishes over to the counter.

“In case you're wondering ... nothing happened.”

“Did I say anything?” Vic asked him, looking over at him. “No ... but you were dying to ask” came the reply and Vic shrugged.

“You were a pretty long time doing nothing,” observed the older man.

“I took him home ... we had coffee ... and talked ... nothing more.”

“You sound disappointed,” Vic stated and now looked at him square on and Brian blinked and looked away.

“He's just a kid ...”

“He's mid-twenties,” stated Vic. “Hardly a kid.”

“That still makes me too ... makes him too young,” and Brian sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Seems to me you're just making excuses,” Vic came back at him. “Justin seems a very mature young man to me ... you just can't get it into your head that someone might actually still find you attractive can you ... and might like you for who you are?” Vic asked him and Brian had looked down at the floor.

“There's a lot about me Justin doesn't know ... and I'd like it to stay that way.”

“The accident was years ago ... when are you going to stop beating yourself up over it?” Vic challenged him. “What ... instead of everyone else you mean?” Brian stated coldly. “But it isn't just the accident,“ Brian continued. “I was a different man back then ... and I'm not sure I want Justin knowing who I was.”

Vic frowned. “That doesn't sound like the Brian Kinney I know ... no apologies and no regrets,” and Vic reached out and put his hand on Brian's shoulder and moved closer to him.

“You know what I always admired most about you?” he asked him and Brian shrugged.

“You were who you wanted to be and you didn't give a damn ... you were your own man ... you had your code ... your own rules ... and you lived by them ... good or bad ... and fuck everyone else” and Vic squeezed Brian's shoulder in affection.

“It takes courage to do that and I don't believe for one minute you don't possess the courage it takes to still be the man you want to be ... and if that now includes letting someone like Justin into your life ... then what the hell's wrong with that?” Vic sighed and taking his hand off Brian's shoulder, the other man hesitated and then made to move away from him, but Vic hadn't finished yet.

“Maybe you did stuff back then you know you shouldn't have done ... but we all do that ... and all we can do is live with the decisions we made ... but instead of shutting him out ... why don't you talk to Justin ... let him make up his own mind,” Vic asked him, but unable to answer, Brian had turned and now made his way to the study and tried to concentrate on his work. And that's where he'd stayed until forced to open the door to Justin; Vic suddenly no where to be found.

And now, while Justin had Vic on his own, he took the opportunity to ask about Gus' mother.

“So ... Gus' mom's live in Toronto?”

“Yeah,” Vic answered him. “Lindz ... that's his birth mother ... she and Melanie moved up after that bombing in Pittsburgh some years back ... the one at Babylon,” reminded Vic and Justin nodded. He remembered; he'd planned to go there himself that night, but in the end, something had come up which prevented him.

“That was bad ... I was almost there,” and Justin picked up a sandwich. “Well ... Brian practically lived in the place ... it was only luck he wasn't there when it happened,” stated Vic.

“He did?” and Justin tried to rack his brains but nowhere in his memory could he visualize having seen Brian before, in all the times he'd been to the club himself.

“But he stopped going a long time ago ... after ...” and Vic caught himself. Damn. Justin was so easy to talk to, you found yourself telling him just about anything. But it was up to Brian to tell Justin about the accident, for seemingly Justin hadn't heard about it himself, which was surprising, since Liberty Avenue had certainly wondered why their very own Brian Kinney had suddenly stopped frequenting all the clubs and bars like he once did.

Justin frowned; he'd caught Vic's hesitation and realized the man knew he'd been about to say more than he should have. There was obviously so much more to Mr. Kinney than he could have imagined; and he was so curious to find out what.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin's session with Gus had finished for the day; the boy having had more than enough and Justin was now working from the photographs. After a while and taking a break, Justin took the tray back to the kitchen: Brian was there.

“Any idea how much longer you'll be ... on the painting?” asked Brian and Justin hesitated. Although Brian had said he'd dismissed what had happened the previous night, the fact that he sounded as if he was eager for him to finish, then the man obviously hadn't and must want him out of the way as quickly as possible.

“I guess another week,” answered Justin, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Only ... I think Gus could do with a day off ... I've been promising him a trip to the zoo since the start of the school break ... so could we leave it ... for a day?” Brian asked him, though the real reason was he wanted to put a little distance between the two of them, while he tried to sort out how he felt. And if that meant delaying the completion of the portrait, then so be it.

“Sure ... no problem,” answered Justin. “I need to get my paintings back from the gallery anyhow.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was Daphne's day off and she'd come over early to help Justin get his art back from the show.

“I'm sure he wants me out the way,” stated Justin as Daphne helped him lug his paintings up the stairs to the apartment.

“Did he say that?” she asked him. “Well ... no of course he didn't exactly come out and say it ... but he did ask me how long it would be until I finished Gus' portrait,” and Justin put down what he was carrying and unlocked the door.

“That sounds a fair question to me ... besides ... didn't you say he'd promised his son a trip to the zoo ... can't be much fun for a kid to be sitting having his portrait painted ... he deserves a day off,” stated Daphne, and she walked over to Justin's workbench in the middle of the room and laid down the paintings she'd brought up.

“I guess,” shrugged Justin, rescuing his work from the hallway and he smiled. “Gus is a such great kid ... and he and Brian seem to get on so well,” and Daphne saw Justin's face cloud over. She knew what he was thinking; that he used to have such a great relationship with his own dad, until Craig discovered he had a fag for a son and the man's prejudices then outweighed his love for Justin.

Daphne reached out and patted his arm. “He'll come around,” but Justin shook his head.

“No Daph ... I sometimes think dad would rather see me dead than gay ... I wish ...” and he stopped; about to say he wished he got on with his dad as well as Gus and Brian obviously did.

“You know ... it's been years since I went to the zoo,” Daphne informed him and eager to change the subject and she grinned at him and then she groaned.

“When is the landlord gonna get the damn elevator fixed?” she asked him and Justin took her by the elbow and steered her back outside.

“Just one more trip,” he promised her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Initially, Vic had said he didn't mind if Brian and Gus went to the zoo by themselves, but Brian said he would actually feel a lot more comfortable if the man was with them.

Brian only had a vague recollection of going to the zoo as a kid; family outings weren't really much of a priority in the Kinney household and his one memory of such a time, was of his sister Claire, whining about something and getting on his parents' nerves. But it was Brian who'd felt the full force of his father's annoyance when he spilled his carton of drink down his new white tee and Jack had slapped him; something the 7-year Brian had never forgotten.

Even at that age, Brian knew not to shed tears after such punishment; for more than once that had brought on yet another slap for being a cry-baby and so even as a child, Brian had learned to keep his emotions under wraps. But Brian had never laid a hand on Gus; even when the boy misbehaved like all kids do: testing to see just how far they could go. He didn’t dare. The one thing he'd never want to become was anything like his own father: for the fears that he once held that he might, had kept him apart from Gus for too long already.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Gus loved the aquarium with all the colored coral and the different fish, many looking like they'd been created in the Disney studios with their different colorings and shapes and was totally fascinated by the sheer size of the sharks housed in the open ocean tank.

Next it was Kids Kingdom, where they could watch the California sea lions in their training session and Gus got to pet the gentle white-tailed deer along with the young goats and lambs and he'd giggled at their soft, tickling tongues licking his hand.

And then after lunch there was the Discovery Pavilion, where he could climb through a tunnel; popping up amidst the meerkats, or walk through a 40-foot bat fly-way, something that didn't really appeal to Brian and he made an excuse to keep well clear. But Brian and Vic couldn't help smiling at the boy's obvious excitement and Brian had tried to make himself relax and forget everything else that had been happening in the last few days.

“Dad ... can I have an ice-cream?” asked Gus as they passed the vendor's wagon. “After what you had for lunch?” asked his father and he shook his head; why was it boys of that age seemed to have hollow legs.

“I'll get them,” offered Vic and he left the two of them watching the wooly monkeys.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Where to now?” asked Daphne. They were standing outside the black bear enclosure and had already been to see the gazelle, kangaroos, penguins and aquarium all before lunch. Daphne had only been half-joking when she'd mentioned to Justin about how long it had been since she'd been to the zoo, but after they'd sat down, exhausted at having brought all of Justin's work back to his apartment without the use of the elevator, she'd thought it over and suggested that they actually go.

“The zoo?” asked Justin. “The last time I was at the zoo I was twelve,” he'd stated as he handed Daph a soda.

“You're never too old for the zoo ... it's ... it's educational, ” she'd informed him. “And besides ... you never know who you're going to meet there.”

Justin had pulled a face and then the penny dropped. “You just want to see him for yourself,” he grinned at her and all Daphne could do was grin back.

So now they were standing outside the bear enclosure and looking through the handouts to see where to go next, but so far there was no sign of Brian.

“What about the primates?” suggested Justin and Daphne nodded and then, having slipped her arm through his, that's where they headed off to.

They'd rounded the corner and suddenly Justin stopped. A hundred yards or so ahead, he saw Vic hand over to Brian and Gus their ice-cream cones and Justin stepped back. This suddenly felt very strange and if Brian saw him, he was bound to know the young man had gone to the zoo deliberately in the hope of meeting him there.

“What is it?” asked Daphne as Justin quickly pulled her back.

“Oh my god ... he's here ... isn't he?” she whispered and slowly, Justin pointed out the little family group in the distance.

“Jeez Justin ... you were right ... he is hot ... and what a cute kid.”

Gus and Brian had gone to sit on a bench to eat their ices and Vic's attention had been caught by something in one of the enclosures and he'd moved away from them.

They couldn't hear them from where they were of course, but Brian had said something that had given Gus the giggles and then Brian had found the boy's handkerchief in his pocket and handed it to him while Gus ate his ice. And then Justin could hardly suppress his own laughter; watching Brian trying to eat his own ice-cream and not spill any of it on him: he definitely didn't look too comfortable with it and obviously hadn't had a lot of practice in that particular skill.

Suddenly, Justin remembered he had his camera with him and quickly, he took it from his bag and snapped a few shots. But then he stopped as he continued to watch the little scene and his heart went out to Brian and he was now sure why it was Brian was always there when Gus was sitting for his picture. For as much as Justin hoped otherwise, he realized it wasn't just to watch him work, but that Brian absolutely adored having the boy around and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. You could see it in his face and Justin couldn't imagine how Brian must feel when Gus' visits had to end and the boy went back home again.

Brian's love for his son just radiated from the man; it was in his eyes and in everything he did: their closeness when Brian leaned over to talk to him and putting his arm around the boy's shoulder's, the ruffling of Gus' hair, the straightening of the collar on his shirt, the way he genuinely listened to what Gus had to say and always gave him sensible and thought out answers. And now he saw Brian reach across and wipe Gus' chin and watching them almost seemed obscene; that they were intruding on something very personal and wonderful and Justin put his camera away.

When he'd agreed to come to the zoo with Daphne, Justin had got it in his head that they would just “bump” into Brian: that he'd get a chance to see him in an environment other than the house and that the other man might get used to having him around. But now they'd found them, Justin didn't want to disturb them and he took Daphne by the elbow and they started to move away.

“JUSTIN!” called the voice and Vic waved at them and Justin groaned. He was hoping they would be able to get away unnoticed but Vic walked right up to them.

“Well now ... this is a coincidence,” stated the man and Justin saw how he raised an eyebrow.

“I ... I just happened to mention to Daphne that I had the day off because Brian was taking Gus to the zoo and ... and she said she'd like to go too ... to the zoo ... didn't you Daph?” Justin struggled for something sensible to come out and he saw Vic nod and smile in total disbelief and then the man turned to Daphne; Justin so flustered he was forgetting his manners.

“Well ... it's nice to meet you Daphne ... I'm Vic,” and he held out his hand, which Daphne took.

“I'm sure Brian will be pleasantly surprised to see you here,” Vic smiled at them.

“Well ... we were just leaving ...”

“We were?” asked Daphne. “I mean ... yes ... we were,” but it was too late to make an escape; someone else had spotted them and Gus made a bee-line.

“Dad ... look ... it's Justin ... JUSTIN,” and wiping his hands on his handkerchief, Gus ran over to him.

Brian blinked and frowned; the very person he was trying not to think about was just a hundred yards or so away and getting up, Brian threw the remainder of his ice-cream in a nearby trash can and wiped his hands on the handkerchief he took out of his pocket.

“Hi Justin” “Hi Gus,” Justin smiled back at him. “You having a good time?”

“Sure ... isn't it neat ... did you see the sharks yet ... or the bats ... aren't they great?”

Daphne shuddered; neither the sharks or the bats were exactly cute and furry and not her bag at all, but it sure was a boy-thing and she grinned at him and Gus studied her.

“Hi ... I'm Gus.”

“Hi Gus ... I'm Daphne,” and she saw the boy frown.

“Are you Justin's girlfriend?” he asked her and Daphne chuckled. “Well ... I'm a girl ... and I am Justin's friend,” and she put her arm through Justin's: Vic smiled and put his hands affectionately on Gus' shoulders.

Brian held back as he saw Justin had a companion with him, but at his son's insistent calling he sighed and went over to join them.

“Well ... this is a surprise,” and Brian allowed himself a slight smile and then melted as Justin looked up at him; those beautiful baby blues blinking and a slight blush starting to creep across the younger man's face.

“Aren't you going to introduce us?” Brian asked him; forcing himself to look away and he smiled at Justin's companion.

“Oh yes ... of course ... Daphne ... this is Brian Kinney ... Brian ... this is my best friend ... Daphne Chanders,” stuttered Justin.

“Hello, Daphne,” said Brian quietly and he held out his hand.

“Mr. Kinney ... wow ... it's so great to meet you ... I'm such a fan.”

“Daphne!” chided Justin and Daphne suddenly looked awkward.

“That's okay ... glad to see I have one fan at least ... and it's Brian.” Brian smiled at her and then he looked back at Justin and it was a few moments before any thing more was said.

“So ... you decided on a trip to the zoo too?” asked Brian eventually and Justin smiled weakly.

Daphne looked at Justin and then at Brian and couldn't miss the way the men held each other's gaze and she glanced at Vic; Vic had seen it too and he squeezed Gus' shoulders.

“Why don't we go check out the elephants?” he suggested, with a slightly raised eyebrow and incline of the head.

“I love elephants,” exclaimed Daphne. “Can I come too?”

“Sure,” answered Gus and much to Daphne's surprise, the boy took her hand and led her and Vic away; Daphne glanced back, Brian and Justin hardly realizing they'd been deserted and she couldn't resist grinning to herself: so far so good.

It was a few moments before it registered with either of the two men that they'd been left on their own, but neither of them wanted to acknowledge the reason why their friends thought they should want it that way.

“So ...” and Brian eventually looked away first and dug his hands deep into his jeans pockets. For now being in the younger man's company unexpectedly, his initial annoyance had given way to the realization that now seeing him, his heart was thumping and he was finding it difficult to think straight.

“So ... looks like we've been dumped,” smiled Justin; trying to keep the mood light and he scratched behind his ear. Brian's thumping heart missed a beat: the blond was so damned cute when he did that.

“I guess ... I guess we should catch up,” suggested Brian, finally finding his voice and Justin nodded. “Where did they say they were going?” he asked him.

“I think they said something about elephants,” and Brian shrugged and Justin chuckled. “Then I guess that's where we should head too.”

Brian nodded in agreement and moved off; Justin fell into step beside him and allowed himself a grin and thankful that Brian seemed okay with him being there.

Brian decided not to make a big thing of Justin being at the zoo the same time he was there with Gus and Vic, but he knew it couldn't have been a coincidence. Secretly, he realized he was flattered that Justin would want to seek him out in his spare time and he began to wonder exactly what Justin thought of him. Could he really dare to hope the young man might actually find him attractive; desirable even?

Making their way to the elephant house, Brian and Justin slipped into comfortable conversation. Brian asked Justin some more questions about his success at the art show and about his art in general and Justin repaid the compliment by asking about Brian's work as a screenwriter.

Neither of them wanted to mention the episode at Justin's apartment or the fact that they were both at the zoo at the same time: they didn't want to spoil the apparent ease they felt in each other's company by complicating matters.

It was now getting late in the afternoon and enjoying Justin's company and away from anyone else, Brian suddenly didn't want it to end and as they approached the elephant house, he stopped and put his hand on Justin's arm, the younger man almost jumping at his touch.

“Do you really wanna go see the elephants?” he asked him and Justin frowned. “Well ... I guess I'd survive if I didn't.”

“Then why don't we go grab a coffee instead ... leave the kids to it,” and Brian's stomach lurched; hoping the blond wouldn't turn him down, but Justin just chuckled.

“You including Vic in that statement?” Justin asked him and Brian nodded. “Believe me ... Vic's a big a kid as anyone in Gus' company ... they won't miss us one bit,” and taking heart at the huge smile Justin gave him, Brian changed direction and they headed for the coffee shop.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two lattes later, Brian's cell rang: he pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the ID. “Vic,” and he looked at his watch as he answered it: amazed to discover they'd been in the coffee shop for almost an hour.

“Where the hell are you ... or maybe I shouldn't ask too many questions,” chuckled Vic in Brian's ear and Brian blinked; grateful that Justin couldn't hear him.

“We'll meet you outside the elephant house in ten minutes.”

“Forget the elephants ... we moved on to the rhinos ages ago,” chuckled Vic again. “But don't let me disturb you ... you're obviously busy ...”

“The rhinos then ... in ten,” Brian stated, trying to ignore the leg-pulling that was coming his way and he ended the call.

“They about to send out a search party?” asked Justin, who had glanced at his own watch. Where did the time go when he was enjoying himself so much? Brian looked at him and nodded. “Something like that,” and having paid the check, they made their way outside.

Damn; he and Justin seemed to be getting on so well: both men finding the other so easy to talk to and eager to listen and Brian wasn't the only one who felt a little reluctant to have to go back and join the others.

Looking at his watch, Brian could hardly believe it was almost 5:00 and neither could he believe how quickly the day had passed and at how much he'd actually enjoyed it and hadn't even noticed how busy the zoo was: after all, it was the school holidays.

Since the accident, this was the first real “Dad” thing he'd done with Gus and realized now that as the boy was getting older, he'd need more structure to their time together. But it wasn't just Gus who had made this a special day.

Gus had watched Brian and Justin make their way across the compound towards them and even at his young age, he noticed something. Justin was grinning broadly; half turned towards Brian and gesticulating to emphasize whatever they were discussing and Brian smiling in return as he listened and talked with the younger man. Normally, Gus only saw his dad as comfortable as that when in his mom's or Vic's company and the boy frowned.

Being with Justin obviously made his father happy and the boy was sure his dad was sad every time he had to go back home to his mom's, so maybe Justin could be his dad's new friend. But it wasn't only Gus who noticed that Justin and Brian seemed to be getting on so well. Daphne hadn't seen her friend as happy as this in a long, long time and Vic couldn't ever remember an occasion when Brian spent time in the company of an attractive young man that he wasn't automatically trying to bed.

Having now met up with the others, Gus had slipped between the two men and took his dad's hand and Justin frowned. He'd noticed Gus watching them and began to wonder whether the boy was jealous of him being with his dad; knowing that if he tried to get closer to Brian, then that might become a problem. But suddenly, Gus reached out and took Justin's hand too; an action not unnoticed by any of the adults as they made their way towards the exit.

Daphne and Vic exchanged glances as they watched the three men in front of them and they saw Gus look up at first one and then the other and say something and they saw Brian and Justin smile at one another.

“That is sooo cute,” whispered Daph and Vic grinned; how could Brian say now he had no interest in the young blond and, as a bonus, Gus seemed to like Justin too.

Walking out the gates to the parking lot, they came to Brian's BMW first and using the remote, Brian unlocked the doors and Gus dived in the back and started to strap himself in.

Brian leaned against the roof of the car and the four adults looked at each other; seemingly reluctant to say goodbye and even Brian at a loss for words; in the end, it was Vic who broke the silence: determined to move things on a little further. Knowing Brian since he was 14 and never having seen him react this way in another man's company, Vic knew, even if Brian wouldn't acknowledge it, that the man was more than a little interested in the young blond.

The Brian Kinney before the accident would have fucked Justin at the earliest opportunity and moved on. The Brian Kinney since the accident most probably wouldn't even have left the safety of Vic and Gus and gone for coffee with a young man on his own. There was obviously something about Justin that drew Brian out of himself and that on its own was no mean achievement.

“Daphne ... why don't you and Justin come to dinner tonight,” asked Vic; knowing exactly what he was doing by directing his question at her and he ignored the sudden look of panic both Justin and Brian gave him. But before anyone else could speak, Gus leaned out the door.

“That would be great ... please Daphne ... Justin ... say you'll come.”

“We could have a barbecue out by the pool ... it's still pretty warm ... so make sure you bring your swimsuits,” Vic continued.

“Maybe they have other plans?” suggested Brian, but only half hoping the invitation would be refused, but gallantly offering Justin a way out if he needed it.

“I haven't ... I'd love to come,” stated Daphne before Justin had a chance to speak and she grinned; going along with what Vic was trying to do and inwardly Justin sighed. Gus was watching him intently, obviously willing him to say yes, even if he didn't really understand why it was so important. Now Daph was grinning at him and Vic was waiting for an answer and Brian was studying his shoes: but maybe what he said now could have a bearing on what lay ahead for the both of them and that the chance to spend more time in Brian's company shouldn't be casually thrown away.

“Sure ... we'd love to come.”

Brian's heart leaped; wanting Justin to come and wishing he'd refused all at the same time and wondering again, why he couldn't always think straight when the young man was around him, but now he looked up at him and smiled.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They watched as the BMW drove past and getting into Daphne's car, Justin groaned; having second thoughts. “Why did I say that ... that we'd go to dinner ... it's not like I don't see him when I'm out at the house.”

“That's different ... you're working ... this'll give you another chance to chill out together ... and what could be more relaxing than a barbecue around the pool ... in your undies,” giggled Daphne.

“Swimsuits,” corrected Justin. “And you're forgetting ... I've already seen him stripped down to just his jeans,” and he couldn't help smiling at the memory.

“Yeah ... but I haven't,” stated Daphne and grinning at him, she started the engine.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

With Gus still excited by their trip to the zoo and talking constantly, Brian had hardly said anything during the ride back to the house. But Vic was sure the man was secretly pleased that Justin was coming to dinner and it was around 7:15 when Justin and Daphne arrived, having swung by both their places to pick up swim suits and towels.

Vic already had the barbecue heating up and had thawed the steaks and burgers out in the microwave. Having recently stocked up, there was plenty of salad, rice and potato salad and beer, wine and sodas chilling in the cooler; the summer evenings still pretty good. Brian had put up the umbrellas over the recliners, after first ensuring that Gus had on sun block times a zillion: the boy having changed into his trunks.

“I'll show you where to change,” Vic stated and he took Justin and Daphne indoors; letting Justin use his room and Daphne a spare bedroom.

“Aren't you going to change?” Vic asked Brian, when he came back outside. “I can always loan you something,” he stated, half grinning and Brian raised an eyebrow: the Bermuda shorts and colorful surfing shirt that Vic was wearing not exactly the usual Kinney style, but realizing he was going to look a little out of place otherwise, Brian went up to change and reappeared ten minutes later in the CK swimwear he favored. “Now ... that's much better,” observed Vic and family or not, he couldn't help noticing just how good Brian still looked and with any luck, Justin would notice it too.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Wow Daph ... you look great,” exclaimed Justin as he met his friend in the hallway upstairs. Dressed in white bikini and sarong, Daphne was the epitome of femininity coupled with modesty. “Thanks,” she answered him. “Not that it's going to do me any good tonight ... I hope you realize the sacrifice I'm making for you ... Justin Taylor ... this must make me the ultimate fag hag,” and she wagged her finger at him.

“Some sacrifice ... a free meal and lounging around the pool of a famous writer ... who must be pretty rich if this house is anything to go by,” commented Justin as they made their way downstairs and out to the pool.

Stepping out into the early evening sunshine, Daphne gasped and Justin looked around in time to see Brian diving into the pool from the low board.

“My God, Justin ... Brian's pretty damn fit,” she whispered to him and Justin grinned. And then Daphne turned and took a good look at her friend. “You know ... you're not so shabby yourself.” “Well ... I still work out when I have the time,” he reminded her and tossing his towel onto the nearest recliner, Justin went to the side of the pool at the deep end and executed a perfect dive; grinning to himself as he did so: noticing how Brian had turned in the water to watch him and surfacing, Justin swam to the far side of the pool and stopped; shaking the water from his eyes.

“Dad ... Dad ... watch me,” Gus called out to his father and he climbed the steps to the low board. “Feet first, Gus,” his dad instructed him as he trod water in the middle of the pool. “I don't want you diving in ... okay?” “Okay,” agreed the boy, reluctantly and moving slowly to the end of the board, Gus took a deep breath and then jumped out as far as he could before tucking up his knees and landing in the water. And, as he'd jumped, Brian had moved closer to him; just enough to be there if Gus got into difficulties at all, but far enough away not to crowd him; holding his own breath until Gus bobbed up to the surface and grinning. Then, and only then, did Brian let himself relax.

From the far side of the pool, Justin watched Brian and saw the concern on his face as his son hit the water and then the obvious relief when the boy emerged. If anyone said queers didn't make good parents, they should take a look at Brian Kinney.

With the confidence that only the young possess; when they've learned to swim before they know fear, Gus did indeed swim like a fish; despite the cautiousness of his father. He moved through the water over to the huge beach ball that was floating on the surface of the pool and, picking it up, he threw it to Brian who threw it back to him.

“Here, Justin,” called Gus and drawing their new friend into the game and Gus threw the ball towards him; Justin having to swim closer to them in order to retrieve it.

“If I didn't know better ... I'd swear you'd primed Gus,” whispered Daphne to Vic as the older man offered her a soda from the cooler. Daphne had decided not to venture into the water herself after all: the boys just looked to be getting along fine without out her and Vic smiled. “Then you agree ... you think there's something there.” “Absolutely ... Justin totally lights up when he talks about Brian,” stated Daphne.

“And you'd have to be blind not to notice that Brian feels the same way,” agreed Vic and he took out another soda and popped the top off. Grinning conspiratorially, Daphne reached out and clinked Vic's soda bottle with her own. If the two guys in question didn't move things along, then maybe they needed a little encouragement.

“But it's not necessarily going to be easy,” Daphne admitted as she sat down on the nearest recliner and stretched out. “Justin's had it pretty rough ... did he tell you he was bashed ... nearly killed ... for being gay?” she asked Vic, who looked back at her, shocked that the life of the beautiful young man in question was nearly taken from him. “God no,” and he sighed. “I'd hoped that had ended in my day,” but Daphne shook her head. “A class mate ... and he only got community service.”

“I remember that,” answered Vic in realization and then he sighed. “Well,” continued Daphne. “At one point, Justin thought he'd never draw again ... he fought tooth and nail to recover the use of his hand ... and had to deal with his homophobic father at the same time ... the man cut him out completely ... told Justin that if he continued to live his disgusting lifestyle ... his words ... that he wouldn't have anything to do with him ... he even refused to fund Justin through art school ... even though he could afford it.”

“And Justin is so talented ... he just needs the right break for his art to take off ... and if he found a great guy in the meantime ... it would be wonderful ... he so deserves to be happy,” and they turned to watch the guys in the pool horsing around.

“What about Brian ... I wouldn't have thought he'd still be on his own.”

Vic chewed his lip. Justin's past was virtually an open book; his bashing had been followed in the papers for several weeks. The circumstances of Brian's accident however, were still private and sensitive to all concerned and though Daphne obviously meant well and wanted the best for her friend, revealing Brian's past was still something for the man himself to talk to Justin about when the time came and not for discussing behind his back.

Daphne saw Vic's hesitation and she frowned. “Hmm ... I guess Brian's got a little history?” she ventured. “Something like that,” admitted Vic and he took the steaks and burgers from the cooler and threw them on the well heated barbecue.

“I'm sorry Daphne ... I don't mean to be mysterious.”

“That's okay ... I guess a man Brian's age ... and don't get me wrong ... I'm not saying he's old or anything ... just that he's bound to have been around the block a time or two,” and Vic nodded in agreement. “There's just some things Brian should talk to Justin about himself ... but believe me ... he's not had it easy either in the last few years ... despite his apparent success,” Vic confided.

“Well then ... maybe they both need each other ... but just don't know yet how much,” offered Daphne and she turned to see Gus jumping onto his dad and Brian picking the youngster up and gently throwing him back into the water for the boy only to now pick up the beach ball and throw it at Justin; the ball hitting the water in front of his new friend and splashing him.

Reaching out, Justin hit the water hard with his hand; Gus realizing was he was going to do and squirming out of the way and squealing as the water went over his head.

“Gus ... come and dry off and get something to eat,” Vic called out to him and the youngster clambered up out of the pool and made his way to the outside shower and quickly rinsed himself off. Daphne picked up one of the towels that had been left on a recliner and wrapped it around the boy and started to rub him down; the two of them chatting happily together.

Brian and Justin looked embarrassingly at each other, for now that Gus had left the pool, continuing to horse around seemed a little awkward and smiling at Justin, Brian climbed out of the pool himself.

Justin watched him make puddles of water on the patio as Brian padded to the outside showerhead and turned it on; allowing the clean water to wash away all traces of the swimming pool's odor; the water coursing down his body in rivulets and into the small grid, covering the drain. After a few seconds, Brian turned it off and shook his head, sending out a water spatter and Justin's heart missed a beat as the man then made his way to a recliner and started to towel himself down and how Justin wished he could do that for him.

“Are you getting out to eat Justin?” called Daphne and she saw Justin redden. “In a minute ... I want another swim first,” he called back and he kicked off from the side of the pool; Brian glanced back over at him. Vic had been watching the younger man as he'd been studying Brian and he now turned back to the barbecue and grinned; guessing that the reason why Justin didn't want to get out of the pool was because the young blond had been turned on as he'd watched Brian shower and towel down and indeed it was a couple of lengths of the pool before Justin had managed to control the attraction to Brian that would have been just a little too obvious had he got out of the pool there and then.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Once Justin had composed himself sufficiently, he clambered out of the pool and showered off and was handed a huge fluffy white towel by Brian; the older man smiled at him.

“You know ... if ever you want to use the pool ... don't wait to be asked ... just help yourself.”

“Thanks ... I might take you up on that.”

“That goes for you too, Daphne ... if ever you want to come over,” said Brian, turning to her.

“Thanks Brian,” and she returned his smile and tried to ignore the scowl Justin was giving her; not that he didn't want her to be able to come over and use the pool, but if he was going to get anywhere with Brian, having his best friend around could prove a little restricting.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Taking their meal to the table on the patio, Vic laid out the spread he'd prepared. As they were still using Daphne's car, Daphne stuck to sodas, as did Brian and Gus, of course. But Vic broke open a bottle of wine and he and Justin made their way through it.

The banter was light and the two older men enjoyed being in the young peoples' company. Gus sat himself between Vic and Daphne and chatted constantly; about his vacation, recounting their trip to the zoo and about his pony, Buttons.

“So ... stables and a pool ... the house of your dreams,” whispered Daphne to Justin as Brian brought more drinks from the cooler and was out of earshot and she grinned at Justin who tried to ignore her insinuation and he glanced at her and then at Brian. Maybe not just the house of his dreams either.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The sun was beginning to go down and Brian looked at Vic and then nodded in Gus' direction. Having had such a thoroughly wonderful and busy day, the youngster was almost asleep and Brian rose up out of his chair and moved behind Justin and Daphne to gently pick up his son. “Come on champ ... way past your bed time I think.”

And with the boy dozing and leaning over his shoulder, Brian made his way inside. Daphne shuddered, the lower temperature now noticeable. “I think I'll go in and change ... and then I guess we should think about leaving,” stated Daphne sadly; her shift starting early in the morning.

“Okay, Daph … I’ll follow you,” agreed Justin and they both made their way inside.

Having brought his son upstairs, Brian had left him in the bathroom brushing his teeth while he quickly threw on some clothes and then he’d gone back to him.

Justin had changed his clothes and collecting his things, was making his way along the hall when he heard Brian speak.

“You had a good day?” and Justin followed the sound of the man's voice and quietly looked around the door into Gus' room to see Brian helping his son on with his PJ's. Gus nodded sleepily. “The best,” he yawned and Justin saw Brian smile.

Brian pulled back the duvet and Gus rolled into bed.

“I like Justin ... and Daphne,” stated Gus. “So do I,” agreed his father and he pulled the covers up over the boy's shoulders.

“Dad ... can we do something like this again?”

“Sure ... you think of something you want to do and we'll arrange it,” agreed Brian, surprising even himself at the offer to do something so public again and he leaned down to kiss Gus on the forehead.

“Perhaps Justin could come with us,” said Gus, not forgetting how happy he'd seen his dad in their new friend's company and he rolled over onto his side.

“Yeah ... I'd like that too,” stated Brian quietly and he straightened up and turned towards the door; for a moment, catching a slight movement out in the hallway.

Realizing he may have been sprung, Justin coughed and smiled at Brian as he came out of Gus' room and closed the door behind him.

“He's a great kid,” stated the young man, ignoring the fact that Brian probably realized he'd heard their conversation; Brian nodded and the pair of them started to make their way downstairs.

“He's the one thing in my life I can be totally proud of,” stated Brian as they reached the bottom of the stairway and Justin looked over at him and saw the flash of sadness that briefly showed in the man's eyes.

“You can be proud of your work too,” Justin pointed out. “It's very popular ... people love it ...” and he bit his lip.

“What ... what is it?” asked Brian as Justin rubbed behind his ear and looked away.

“Well ... it's something I always wanted to know ... I hope you don't mind my asking you?”

“Fire away,” invited Brian and Justin took a deep breath.

“Your stories ... I mean they're terrific ... but ... why do they never have happy endings ... the lovers are never together in the final scene ... something always contrives to keep them apart.”

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth and briefly closed his eyes and then looked at him and Justin couldn't help but notice the coldness in the man's eyes.

“I don't believe in happy endings,” Brian stated flatly and Justin frowned.

“Well ... you tell me,” Brian invited him.

“Is life like that? 'Cos I don't think so.”

“Life's a bitch ... no matter what you do ... there is always someone ... or something just waiting for you ... waiting to pull the rug out from under you ... sending you crashing down ... and I would think that you of all people would know that.”

Justin went to speak, but in all honesty, he had nothing to say. Because yes; he understood that perfectly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Vic had poured out the remainder of the wine and the three men waited while Daphne came down and, as she appeared, Justin quickly threw down the remainder of his drink; feeling it warming in his stomach: he didn't usually drink and even with the food inside him, he felt a little light-headed.

Since his conversation with Brian at the bottom of the stairs, things had gotten a little quiet between them; as if Brian had revealed something he'd wished he'd kept to himself and indeed, the more Justin thought about it, the more he realized Brian was speaking from experience. That life sucked and not in a good way.

“Are you ready, Justin?” asked Daphne, looking in her purse for her car keys and Justin got up from his chair. Daphne hugged Vic and then Brian, who had started to walk her through the house and to the front door and Justin hugged Vic. “It's been great ... thanks.”

“My pleasure ... see you in the morning?” Vic asked him and Justin nodded.

“Bright and early,” and Vic slapped him on the back as he started to walk the young man out.

Daphne hugged Brian again and kissed him lightly on the cheek; his soft beard tickling her lips.

“This has been wonderful ... thank you.” “Any time Daph,” stated Brian, shortening her name as a means of showing his affection and she looked at him. “I'll take you up on that,” she grinned and she made her way down the path to the car.

Vic passed Brian and followed Daphne down to her car; deliberately leaving Brian and Justin standing on the doorstep and the two men smiled at each other.

“It's been great ... Thanks,” stated Justin and Brian nodded and smiled. “As I said ... any time you want to use the pool ...”

The two men stood facing each other awkwardly, but simultaneously, they then moved towards one another. Justin put his hand on Brian's arm and the older man blinked and, before he could stop himself, he leaned down and kissed Justin on the lips.

Justin’s excuse may have been that he was a little heady from the wine, but Brian had no such excuse.

The kiss started out lightly, but Justin leaned into him and Brian deepened the kiss; both men totally ignoring the fact that they were in full view of both Vic and Daphne, who grinned at each other and pretended not to notice.

Justin's heart was pounding, fit to burst as he reached up to Brian; wanting the kiss to go on forever; the sensation of Brian’s beard against his skin electrifying.

There were no tongues, no mashing of lips that normally accompanied such encounters, when usually either man and their respective tricks were trying to get into each other's pants at the same time and then, slowly, Brian pulled back and he smiled and looked away.

Justin grinned at him and stroked his arm; drawing Brian’s gaze back to his. Neither man knowing exactly the right words to say; scared to admit this was anything more than a goodnight kiss between friends.

“Night, Brian,” said Justin quietly and Brian smiled and nodded as he watched the younger man make his way down the path and climb into the car.

Vic and Daphne were talking through the open car window and Vic kissed her on the cheek and then straightened up; smiling at Justin as he made his way round the front of the car and back up the path to the house; he turned to wave goodnight and then went inside the house: leaving Brian standing on the doorstep.

“Night, Justin,” stated Brian, softly and on the night air; the breeze not quite strong enough to take his words to the young man's ears as the car drove away.

 

 

- o O o -

 

 

Chapter Five:

“Gus settle down okay?” asked Vic as he brought in the last of the dirty dishes from the patio and he started to load the dishwasher.

“Out like a light ... said he had the best day,” stated Brian, smiling at the recollection and secretly acknowledging just what a special day it had turned out to be.

Brian had licked his lips as he watched Daphne's car disappear out of sight; still able to taste Justin's wine-tainted breath and wondering what the kiss had really meant.

Totally unexpected, there hadn't been any real passion to it, but it had left Brian wanting more all the same and a kiss like nothing he'd ever really experienced before with any other man.

Whenever he'd kissed Michael, it was to say goodnight or as an expression of friendship: at least on Brian's part. Other kisses, shared with tricks, had always been a precursor to sex; lips pressed hard against the other man's: hot and bruising.

But the kiss shared with Justin had been tender and sincere and had left Brian wondering whether there could be any deeper meaning. When Justin had tried to kiss him before at his apartment, it had felt so wrong; as if Brian was taking advantage of him. This time, it had been mutual and natural and possibly the prelude to so much more, if only Brian had the courage to go for it.

For he was beginning to think that Justin may indeed have feelings of his own after experiencing the warmth of the young man's kiss. But Brian had never been in a relationship; had never done boyfriends: had never before needed to feel close to someone or risk falling in love and open his heart up for fear of having it broken.

But following the accident, there were times when he'd never felt more alone. If it hadn't been for Vic, he would have been totally isolated and Brian had started to wonder if he were fooling himself that he didn't need anyone else to help ease the pain of what life could sometimes throw at you and he sighed.

What was the point in trying to kid himself; he'd already told Justin he didn't believe in happy endings. What the hell made him think he'd ever find someone who would love him for who he was and have a happy ending of his own?

And after Daphne's car was long gone, Brian had moved slowly inside the house and closed and locked the door for the night before popping back upstairs to check on his son; gently brushing the boy's hair back away from his eyes and now, back in the kitchen, he took the plastic wrap down from the cupboard and started covering the left-over salad and rice.

“He wasn't the only one who had a good time today,” stated Vic as he went out onto the patio again.

“Yeah ... Justin and Daphne seemed to be having a good time too.”

Vic stopped in the doorway, having collected the empty glasses.

“Yes ... they did ... but I wasn't thinking about them,” and he moved back into the kitchen and placed the tray on the counter and put one hand on his waist, waiting for Brian to confirm his suspicions.

Brian saw the man's expectation and in the end smiled and nodded. “Okay ... I had a good time too.”

“It was fun ... I admit it.”

“And nowhere near as harrowing as you thought?”

“No,” conceded Brian and he sighed; just wondering how much he'd actually missed out on in his reluctance to start living normally again after the accident.

“Good ... then you'll do it again?”

“Sure ... Gus isn't going to let me off that easy.”

“Maybe Justin would like to join in,” Vic continued and Brian rolled his eyes in his head). “Is everyone conspiring to get the two us together ... Gus said the same thing.”

“And don't think I'm letting you off asking Daph and Justin over tonight ... I knew exactly what you were trying to do.”

Vic chuckled. “Like you were real upset about it.”

“Anyhow ... what makes you think Justin would be interested ... or that I'd be interested for that matter ... I'm hardly a good candidate for a relationship.”

“Ah ... so you've thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” asked Brian as he continued to place the covered food in the refrigerator.

“A relationship ... with Justin ... he obviously likes you ... and after what I saw tonight I hope you're not going to insult me by denying you like him too,.” Vic added, but Brian merely shrugged; knowing better than to deny it outright.

“Well ... then tell me ... when did you ever meet someone like Justin and not want to fuck him the first time you laid eyes on him?”

“That was different ... I was different.”

“Or is it that he's different ... from all the other guys you've ever met?” Vic asked him and he moved closer to the younger man.

“Everyone says how talented Justin is ... and he's beautiful ... anyone can see that ... but it seems to me he's special ... that he's touched something in here,.” and Vic reached out and tapped Brian lightly on the chest; just around where his heart would be.

“A place you've never let anyone in before ... am I right?”

“What the fuck do I know about that?” asked Brian coldly, and that if it wasn't Vic standing in his kitchen telling him some home-truths then he would probably have punched anyone else out by now and he turned away.

“You telling me you don't know how to love ... is that it?” and Vic groaned and returned to what he was doing.

“Look ... I know you think that ... as a kid ... your parents didn't love you ... but you only have to look how you are with Gus.”

“You love your son more than life itself ... so don't go telling me you wouldn't know how to love Justin ... that you're not capable.”

“Because it's obvious you like him ... and I can't remember when I last saw you this relaxed ... hell ... I don't think I ever have,“ the older man corrected himself. “And I don't think it's all about Gus being here.”

“And Daphne says ...”

“You been talking about me behind my back?” Brian asked quickly, really hoping this conversation would come to an end pretty quickly and he now turned back to face Vic, suddenly annoyed at the whole world seemingly discussing his business.

“Not like that ... I didn't tell her anything ... but she said that when Justin talked about you ... that he seemed to ... to light up when he did ... that's all.”

Now Vic groaned inwardly; wishing he hadn't mentioned his conversation with Daphne at all. He knew how Brian hated to think people talked about him and he didn't want him backing off or withdrawing into himself again.

“Good ... if anyone talks to Justin about anything ... it'll be me,” Brian stated emphatically and Vic nodded, but secretly, Brian's heart had given a little jump when Vic said how Justin lit up when he talked about him; so maybe the young man did have feelings for him after all.

“That's how it should be,” Vic continued and having finished loading the dishwasher and putting in the powder, he set it going.

“So ... are you going to?” Vic asked him and he turned to face Brian.

“Going to what?”

“Talk to him,” Vic sighed in exasperation; this was like trying to get blood out of a stone: actually getting Brian to admit he was interested in the young man enough to open up to him.

“When ... and if ... I'm ready,” stated Brian; drumming his fingers on the counter and for the first time in ages, wishing he could have a drink.

Well, thought Vic; from Brian's tone it was obvious that was the end of that particular conversation and knowing when to no longer pursue a topic, he started to wipe down the counter. “I'll finish in here if you want to go up.”

“Okay ... Goodnight,” stated Brian, but before he got far, he closed his eyes briefly and then turned back.

“Thanks for tonight ... going to so much trouble,” and Brian scratched behind his ear before finally turning away: Vic smiled, wondering if Brian meant preparing their meal or something else.

“Goodnight Brian,” Vic answered him, as he finished clearing away and tidying up.

But instead of heading up to bed, Brian made for the study. He wasn't really feeling tired and in actual fact, since Justin and Daphne had left, his mind was turning over too much to sleep and he sat down at the laptop, intending to do some work. But instead, all he could think about was Justin's kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?” Daphne teased him as she stopped outside Justin's apartment building and she turned the car's interior light on. “Or are you going to be dreaming about a certain guy we both know?”

Justin had stayed fairly quiet on their journey back into the city and it didn't take a genius to know what was on his mind.

“Don't be ridiculous Daph ... it's not like I'm some love-struck kid ... it was just a goodnight kiss,” Justin answered her; attempting to dismiss her suggestion out of hand. But his friend raised an eyebrow knowingly and Justin couldn't prevent the grin from spreading across his face and he looked away.

“You are so busted, Justin Taylor,” Daphne declared, triumphantly.

“Okay ... I'm ... I'm smitten ... I admit it.”

“Brian's a great guy ... and he's hot as hell ... though he doesn't act like it.”

“But it's not just that ... I get the feeling Brian knows what it's like to have the world cave in on him ... and I think he cares about me ... just a little.”

“Has he said anything?” Daph asked him; remembering Vic's words to her earlier that evening, but Justin shook his head.

“Not in so many words ... other than he doesn't believe in happy endings ... which I thought was a bit of a weird thing to say,” and Justin shrugged and he folded his hands in his lap and his friend studied him.

“What is it you're not telling me?” she asked him and Daphne turned further towards him and Justin looked over at her.

“He came to the show.”

“He did? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because something sort of happened ... well I thought it did ... I don't know ... I'm not sure,” and he sighed.

“When he looked at some of my paintings ... Brian knew ... he just knew how much pain they represented ... that I put everything I had into them ... and I told him how I was bashed.”

“He brought me home and I was tired ... no ... make that totally wiped out and sort of cut up and I ended up sobbing my heart out,” and Daph leaned over and squeezed Justin's hand.

“He held me ... stroked my hair and I really thought we'd made a connection ... that he felt something for me ... and then I went and blew it ... I almost kissed him ... but he backed away.”

“I didn't see him backing away tonight,” observed Daphne and Justin smiled. “No ... he didn't ... but I'm not sure what I'm going to say to him tomorrow.”

“Why do you have to say anything?” she asked him. “Just go back there and get on with the portrait and see what happens ... though I take it you would like something to happen?” she asked him quietly and Justin bit his lip.

“Thought so,” and Daphne answered her own question.

“To be honest,” Justin eventually continued. “I don't understand why ... well ... you know ... it's weird why we haven't done anything yet ... normally when I meet a guy and we like each other ... we can't keep our hands off each other.”

“So ... are you contravening some gay constitution that says two guys have to get into each other's pants the first time they meet?” chuckled Daphne and Justin grinned at her. “It's practically the first amendment,” and then he sighed. “But it seems different with Brian some how ... besides ... I still don't really know for sure how he feels ... so it's a case of taking it slow.”

“And all those guy's you slept with straight away ... how many of them still hanging around?” asked Daphne and Justin shrugged.

“Well ... maybe past experiences have taught Brian to be cautious ... especially if he thinks it's gonna turn out to be more than ... well ... a casual fuck.”

Justin groaned. “Why does everything you say always make such perfect sense?” and he looked at her and then he leaned over and gave Daphne a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks Daph ... for everything ... and I should be able to get my car back in a couple of days so that'll make things easier.”

“Well I'll drop by and pick you up again in the morning,” she promised him as Justin got out of the car and with a wave goodbye, Daphne drew away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daphne hadn't been wrong. It had taken ages for Justin to get off to sleep; he kept reliving his kiss with Brian; recalling how the man had tasted and the touch of Brian's beard against his face. He tried to work out whether he'd been able to detect any signal from the man as to what he was really feeling. But eventually, Brian's emotions still undetermined, Justin sighed and, hugging his pillow, had fallen asleep.

But Justin was awake really early; up with the larks and with the bright morning light already shining in through the windows, he knew he just had to paint and played with one or two ideas until he suddenly remembered the shots he'd taken at the zoo.

Hooking his camera up to the computer, Justin ran through them and although he knew he was going to end up deleting them, one particular picture stood out.

Brian and Gus were seated on a bench as they ate their ice-cream cones and Brian had his arm around the boy's shoulders and was smiling down at him; Gus looking up and smiling back. It was perfect; there was no way Justin could destroy this; it illustrated so strongly the love and affection between father and son and Justin knew he had to paint their portrait; put their relationship down onto canvas.

His printer had been playing up for ages and Justin knew he was going to have to replace it soon and it took several attempts before he managed to print out an acceptable picture to work from. But eventually, he was reasonably happy with the copy he'd produced and made a sketch; more or less the same position, but this time, without the ices and with the pictures pinned onto a canvas, Justin began to paint.

Showering quickly in the still cool water, Justin had just dressed by the time Daphne arrived a little after 7:30 and he drove her to the hospital and then took the car back home; it was far too early to head out to WV and he went back to his painting.

Around 9:15, he looked at his watch; he should be leaving soon and not even bothering to make breakfast, Justin just grabbed a quick coffee before heading off.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin's heart was actually pounding when he rang the doorbell and it was Gus who'd run to open the door, watching for him to arrive.

“Hi Gus.” “Hi Justin ... did you have a good time yesterday ... I guess I fell asleep,” the boy stated and Justin moved into the hallway and Gus closed the door.

“Yes ... you did,” Justin answered him, grinning and he reached out and ruffled the boy's hair. “And yes ... I had a great time ... and so did Daph.”

“We should do it again ... shouldn't we, dad,” the boy stated and Justin glanced up as Brian approached them.

“It's okay,” and Justin made to wave away Gus' invitation, but Brian nodded. “He's right ... we should do something like that again ... Gus enjoyed it,” and reading Brian's eyes, Justin thought the man was really saying that he'd enjoyed it too and Justin smiled at him.

“Are you going to get ready Gus?” Brian asked his son; the boy not yet changed into the blue shirt he wore for the portrait.

“I forgot,” and Gus shot off and up the stairs and the two men smiled at each other. “He wouldn't stop talking about the zoo over breakfast,” Brian informed Justin as they made their way through the house.

“I had a great day,” stated Justin. “And thanks again ... for asking us back last night.”

“That was Vic's doing,” Brian reminded him, but then he came to a halt at the door to the conservatory. “But I'm glad you came,” he admitted quietly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Wow ... it's a real scorcher today,” observed Vic as he took in a jug of iced-tea just before 11:00. Gus' session had finished and Justin was continuing from the photograph and even with the air-conditioning on full, the air was getting a little stifling.

“Why don't you take a break before lunch and go for a swim,” offered the older man. “I didn't bring my swim suit with me,” replied Justin, but acknowledging that sure sounded like a good idea.

“Well … I don't think I have anything you'd want to be seen in,” Vic chuckled. “But I'm sure Brian wouldn't mind loaning you something of his ... I'll ask him,” Vic offered and then he disappeared only to come back not two minutes later.

“I can't find him ... I think he must be down at the stables with Gus ... they said earlier they wanted to make sure Buttons had enough water ... but I know where everything is ... it's not a problem.”

Justin put down his brush and wiped his hands. “Well ... if you're sure Brian won't mind,” he asked him and Vic shook his head as he led Justin upstairs and Vic went into Brian's room; Justin hesitated in the doorway, remembering the last time he'd been brought up here.

“Are you sure this is okay?” asked Justin, feeling uncomfortable and strangely nervous at entering Brian's room without the man's knowledge, but Vic opened the bottom drawer of the dresser.

“Well I do all the ironing and generally put it away ... I know where Brian keeps just about everything,” the older man chuckled and he brought out a swim suit Brian no longer wore and handed it to Justin.

“It may be a little big on you ... but it has a drawstring waist ... so you should be able to pull it in okay,” and he passed them to Justin and indicated the ensuite bathroom. “You can change in there,” and Vic frowned. “You know ... I fancy going in myself today ... I'll get some towels and meet you out by the pool,” and with that, the older man disappeared to go and change.

Justin hesitated for a moment before heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind him and he quickly changed. Then, picking up his clothes, he moved back into the bedroom.

Something on the dresser caught his eye; a picture frame he hadn't noticed before, but he couldn't now help staring at it.

The silver frame held a photograph of a man, looking to be in his late twenties and holding a baby and with his clothes tucked under one arm, Justin couldn't resist picking the photograph up to study it more closely.

It was Brian; it had to be: holding Gus, who could only have been a few weeks old and Justin's jaw dropped open.

Even though he thought Brian incredibly attractive now, the clean-shaven man in the photograph was beautiful; dressed in only jogging bottoms and bare chested and Justin frowned.

Brian still obviously worked out; he was older of course but still in great shape, but why on earth was he covering up that beautiful face of his with a beard and then Justin closed his eyes. Of course; the scars. They weren't a figment of his imagination; what he'd felt had been real and not something he'd dreamed up after all.

And Justin realized also that this was one of only a few photographs that he'd seen around the house. But the others were all of Gus on his own; one as a baby and another that looked like a standard school photograph.

“Find everything you need?” asked the voice flatly behind him and Justin whirled round: being deep in thought, Brian's voice coming out of no-where made him jump out of his skin.

“What ... sorry ... yes ... thanks ... Vic said it would be okay,” stuttered Justin and he closed his eyes, seeing the look of annoyance in Brian's eyes and hearing it in his voice and the man walked over to him and took the frame out of Justin's hand.

“It's a beautiful picture,” Justin offered as a means of defense as to his curiosity and Brian nodded and studied it himself for a few moments before placing it back on the dresser. And then he looked back at Justin and saw the troubled look in the young man's beautiful blue eyes; worried that he'd overstepped some mark and Brian caved in; thinking he doubted he could ever stay mad at Justin for very long and he then stepped back to look at him: Brian smiled and put his hand up to his mouth.

“What ... what is it?” chuckled Justin; relieved that Brian hadn't been offended by his inquisitiveness and he looked down at himself and bit his lip.

“The trunks ... they look a little big on you ... just as well we're all guys together ... wouldn't want you having a little accident,” chuckled Brian and suddenly all Brian wanted to do was reach out and pull that damn drawstring; it would take very little effort to get Justin naked right now. And the blond looked up at him and smiled back; the two men holding each other's gaze and, for a moment, Brian thought he might just do it; pull the string and allow the trunks ...

“Dad ... I can't find ... oh ... hi Justin,” and Gus frowned; having walked in on the two men, wondering where his dad was and what was taking him so long to get changed and to tell him he couldn't find Justin. They'd returned from the stables and seen Vic in the pool and both father and son had decided that looked like a great idea and Gus had asked if Justin could join in too; his dad had said yes and the boy had run off to find him.

Justin reddened and smiled at him and hoped Gus would be too young to realize the sexual attraction between the two men; an attraction that was becoming more difficult for either of them to deny and that if Gus hadn't walked in on them then he might just have undone that drawstring and stepped right out of the trunks.

But Gus hadn't missed the way both his dad and Justin looked right now and he frowned at a sudden memory.

It reminded him of the way uncle Michael and uncle Ben had looked, the first time he remembered walking in on them kissing, one time when they'd come up to Toronto to see his little sister. Gus had grown up knowing he was different to a lot of kids in that he had two mom's, but thankfully, in Canada, he wasn't made to feel an outcast because of it. And, if that were the case, then surely it would mean he could have two dad's as well.

“I'll be down in a minute,” Brian told his son and Gus looked from Brian to Justin and back again, before nodding and giggling as he raced back downstairs.

“I guess I better let you get changed,” stated Justin and he smiled at Brian before turning around and following Gus; Brian sighed. “Yeah ... I guess you better had,” he agreed quietly.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next day, Justin remembered to bring his own swim suit with him and hoped the daily swim might now become part of the routine. Neither Brian nor Justin would want to admit it of course, but the swim and the resultant late lunch could become a rather useful delaying tactic: inevitably holding up completion of the portrait, which would obviously mean Justin would be around a lot longer than originally planned.

Justin didn't mind; the money from the sale of his work at the art show had come through and he'd managed to pay for the work on his car and collected it that morning and relieved to get his own set of wheels back at last, as well as pay off his back rent: something Burrows actually looked annoyed at, but how annoyed, Justin didn't find out until a little later.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Having caught up with his mom for the first time in ages at the art show, this evening, Justin met up with her again. He'd turned down several invitations to dinner recently, owing to the fact that Tucker was bound to be there. But seeing how much Brian enjoyed having Gus around, Justin felt a pang of guilt; begrudgingly looking at his and his mom's relationship from Jennifer's point of view and realizing how selfish he'd been in not spending as much time with her as he should. After all, he'd only ever have one mom and she'd stuck by him by demonstrating her love time and time again while struggling to come to terms with Justin's sexuality and standing up to Craig. So, Justin went to dinner and tried his hardest to like Tucker.

With his sister, Molly, away at college, unfortunately, there wasn't anyone else to share the conversation with and from time to time he'd struggled to find something to say to his mom's boyfriend, reluctantly accepting it didn't look like these two were going to break up any time soon and in actual fact how happy his mom seemed to be these days.

Thinking back, there were times when Jennifer had looked pretty miserable; the kids not realizing the extent of their father's infidelity, but since she'd been with Tucker, Jennifer certainly seemed to have a twinkle in her eye.

Tucker was attentive, Justin had to admit that and openly affectionate towards Jennifer, something that Justin had a few problems with initially; watching the man slip his arm around her waist or put his hand on her knee or kiss her neck when he thought Justin wasn't watching. More than once Justin had shuddered; thinking about them actually “doing it." But when he looked at his mom, he had to acknowledge just how beautiful a woman she still was and he couldn't blame Tucker one bit for being taken with her and after dinner as Justin helped to clear the dirty dishes away, Tucker diplomatically withdrew and allowed mother and son a little time together.

“I haven't been very fair ... have I,” Justin admitted, as he followed his mother out to the kitchen and placed the dirty dishes on the counter top.”

“About you and Tucker,” he continued when he saw his mom's confused expression and Jennifer reached out and patted his cheek.

“I know this whole divorce thing hasn't been easy for you ... or Molly ... but for the first time ... well for the first time since I can't remember when ... I feel like a woman again.”

“Tucker makes me feel young ... desirable ... sexy even,” and she grinned mischievously at him.

“MOM ... T . M . I!” declared Justin; screwing up his face and making a show of covering his ears, which only made Jennifer laugh all the more and then Justin reached out to her. “It's good ... to hear you laugh like that ... I can't remember the last time we laughed as a family ... you ... me ... dad.”

Before Justin could add Molly to the list, Jennifer frowned and pulling her son into her, she hugged him tightly and they held on to each other for several long moments before she pulled back: tears in her eyes.

“If your dad can't see ... what a ... a ... gifted and beautiful son he has ... well that's his loss ... not ours ... and certainly not yours,” Jennifer told him sincerely and this time it was Justin who pulled them close and held on, before they both pulled back, smiling; not at all embarrassed by their shared affection and both having to wipe a stray tear from their eyes.

“So ... what about you?” Jennifer asked him as she reached for her purse on the kitchen table and searched frantically for a handkerchief with which to blow her nose.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Justin?” Jennifer asked him and her son chuckled. “I remember the first time you asked me that ... on the drive to Nike town.”

“Well ... it's a lot easier for me to say the words now then it was back then ... I can tell you,” she admitted, but it didn't pass Jennifer by that Justin hadn't answered her question, so she asked him again.

“Well ... is there anyone?” and she eyed him suspiciously. “There is ... isn't there?” she challenged him affectionately, seeing his reluctance to answer her, but Justin merely shrugged.

“I'm not sure ... I'd like there to be ... but I'm not really sure how he feels about me.”

“Have you asked him?”

“NO!” came the answer.

“Well you're not going to get very far with a negative attitude like that ... you won't know unless you ask ... but what young man wouldn't want to have you on his arm any way?” she asked him, reaching out to brush Justin's hair away from his eyes and Justin smiled and briefly closed his eyes.

“What?” “He's not exactly what you call a young man ... I mean he's not old ... but he is quite a bit older than me.” “How much older?” asked Jennifer; her eyes narrowing and Justin realized he'd suckered himself right in and he groaned. “About 10 ... 12 years maybe.”

“Ah huh!” exclaimed his mom triumphantly.

“But that's still not as much as you and Tucker ...”

“It's enough for you to take notice of,” his mother observed; amused at her son suddenly defending his, for want of a better word, relationship with this older man when he'd berated her so much about the age difference between her and Tucker.

“So what does he do ... this older man ... is he financially secure?”

Justin looked at her in disbelief. “What does that matter ... I'm not the type who expects to be a kept man,” but he saw his mom's raised eyebrow: she wasn't going to let up, but Justin bit his lip as he wondered whether he should tell his mother about the famous writer he was working for. In the end, he knew he was unlikely to get away without being a little more forthcoming.

“It's someone I'm doing a portrait of his son for.” “He has a son?” asked Jennifer; somewhat confused; still not totally getting her head around gay parenthood.

“Gus' mom's ...” and he saw Jennifer's eyes widen further at that information. “Gus' mom's live in Toronto ... he comes back to see his father during the school breaks ... in West Virginia.”

“West Virginia? ... There's some really nice property out there,” stated Jennifer, in Realtor mode and Justin nodded.

“It's a beautiful house ... with stables and a pool ... Gus has a pony.”

“Well ... he must be set up pretty well to be able to afford that,” Jennifer observed, but she was still a little unconvinced about his suitability as potential son-in-law material and even more apprehensive when Justin continued.

“His name's Brian ... Brian Kinney,” Justin informed him and he saw his mother frown. “I'm sure I know that name ...”

“He's a writer ... writes screenplays ... he had one released a couple of months ago.”

“Really?” she asked him, visibly impressed, but Jennifer shook her head; not really associating the name she thought she recalled with that of a movie writer.

“So does that mean he's into an L.A. lifestyle ... drugs ... wild parties,” she asked him, but Justin chuckled. “Hardly ... from what I've seen I'm not sure he even drinks,” and then Justin visibly sighed.

“He's a nice guy,” he stated quietly. “And hot,” Justin continued: grinning at her and his mom smiled back.

“You're really keen on this one ... aren't you?” Jennifer asked him, having been aware of Justin's varying degrees of success in his love-life and so desperately wanting her son to be happy and Justin ran his hand along the surface of the counter. “Yeah ... I am,” he admitted quietly and Jennifer reached out to cup his cheek with her hand.

“Then you go for it ... and good luck,” she wished him warmly and Justin smiled.

“Everything okay out here?” asked Tucker from the doorway; concerned about what had kept the pair of them in the kitchen for so long; hoping he wasn't still the cause of a continued rift between mother and son and both Jennifer and Justin turned towards him and linked arms.

“We're fine ... just fine,” Jennifer smiled at him and so did Justin.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin had returned to his apartment building in a relaxed and happy mood; he'd got on better with him mom and Tucker tonight than he'd ever expected to; reaching a new understanding with Jennifer that usually comes with continuing maturity and Justin hadn't realized he was whistling softly to himself as he climbed the stairs to the top floor; cursing the meanness of the landlord for not fixing the elevator.

The apartment next to Justin's had been empty for a couple of weeks and in the light of the lowest wattage globe Burrow's thought he could get away with, Justin could just make his way home in the gloom, unaware that the door he'd just passed was ajar.

Justin unlocked his door and stepped inside and had just reached out and turned on the light when he was physically picked up from behind.

He heard the man grunt with the effort and could hear the labored breathing and felt it against his neck; heavy with tobacco and whiskey and Justin reached out to grab the door frame, but the sheer weight of the man carried him forward towards the sofa.

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” and even though he couldn't see the man, Justin knew who it was; Burrows had been waiting for this chance since Justin had moved in.

Justin was placed on the floor and the man pushed him down onto his knees and forward. Justin tried to brace himself, but couldn't hold back the man's far superior weight and strength and was forced; face hard down into the cushions. Burrows had one hand threaded through the blond hair and with his weight against him, holding Justin down, he fumbled around the young man's waist until he found his belt buckle.

With one arm caught between his own body and the sofa; Justin reached around with the other; but with no way of obtaining the strength he needed, failed to make any blow count.

Burrows managed to undo Justin's buckle; the younger man's breathing coming in short gasps as he sought oxygen; his nose and mouth pressed into the fabric of the sofa and his heart and head pounding.

Justin knew what was going to happen; he knew he couldn't fight the man off and knew also it was highly unlikely that Burrows had thought to have already put on a condom. He was going to be raped, dry and with probably no protection and suddenly Justin wondered whether Burrows might lose it altogether and kill him; the panic rising inside him as the stronger, larger man fought to pull down the zipper on Justin's jeans.

With his one free arm flailing, Justin suddenly came into contact with something smooth and hard and managed to grab a hold of the empty soda bottle that he'd left on the side table. Taking as deep a breath as was possible and summoning up all the strength he could muster, Justin brought his arm back. Burrows was leaning further forward, over Justin's shoulder, desperately trying to open the zipper in order to pull Justin's cock out of the young man's jeans when the glass bottle made contact with the side of Burrow's head.

Justin had felt Burrows hand rubbing him in his attempt to get inside his clothing and having let go of the blond's hair, his attacker had pulled Justin's tee out from the waistband of his jeans; his next move would be to try and remove them. That's when Justin hit him.

Having made contact with the man's head, Justin heard the pained yelp and felt the man slip sideways; his weight lifting off Justin just long enough to allow the younger man to push himself backwards and Justin sat down on the floor; trying to recover his breath.

“You hit me ... you fucking hit me,” Burrows sobbed. There was a long gash along the man's forehead; not too deep, but enough to curtail his attempt at assault and blood came away on Burrow's fingers as he explored where the bottle had made connection.

Justin struggled to his feet, but Burrows was between him and the door and when Justin tried to pass him, the man reached out and grabbed his ankle, bringing Justin crashing back down. Justin kicked out and caught the man's hand with his other foot. Breaking the hold Burrows had on him and scrambling up off his knees, Justin tumbled out the door and losing his balance, fell against the wall in his panic as he attempted to make his escape down the hallway: almost falling down the stairs as he made to get away.

Hitting the coolness of the night air; Justin leaned against the brickwork of the building; trying to recover his breath and not throw up. He was shaking and his head was pounding fit to burst and if he wasn't careful, this was likely to bring on one of his horrendous headaches.

Justin searched the pockets of his jeans. Fuck. He'd been holding his car keys and cellphone when he'd unlocked his apartment door and must have dropped them when Burrows grabbed him. He didn't have his wallet either; it must have dropped out of his pocket during the scuffle. All he had was a few coins in his pocket; enough to make a phone call from a public booth, but not enough for cab fare.

His breathing was still shallow and rapid and, feeling a little dizzy, Justin had to hang on to the outside of the buildings as he made his way to the end of the street where there was a pay phone: he could call Daphne.

Daphne's phone rang out; both her home and cell: she must be on duty at the hospital and Jodie obviously wasn't at home either. Shit. Her place was too far to walk, not that Justin thought he was in any state to make it. He didn't want to call his mom; she would totally freak and remind him how she didn't want him to move into that apartment building in the first place, but there was one other number he had; Brian's. Justin remembered it because it was such an easy combination: 555-1535 and with his hands still shaking, he hit the buttons.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was now after midnight and Vic had turned in for the night, but Brian was still working when the phone rang; he picked it up quickly, so as not to disturb the whole house-hold, but his tone was annoyed at the late interruption.

“Kinney ...” but all Brian could hear on the other end of the line was labored breathing.

Thinking he'd got a hoax caller, Brian was about to hang up when he heard the voice on the other end, struggling to make the words.

“Bri ... Brian ...” gasped Justin.

“Justin?” Brian's initial annoyance turned into concern; there must be something very wrong for Justin to ring this late.

“Where are you ... what's wrong?”

“I'm about ... half-a-block from my apartment ... phone booth ... on the corner,” and the words came out rasping and in short gasps.

Brian didn't wait for his question as to what was wrong to be answered: “I'll be there as soon as I can,” and putting the phone down, he rushed upstairs and woke Vic.

“Justin's in some sort of trouble ... watch Gus for me,” and with Vic still trying to make sense of what was happening, Brian rushed back downstairs and grabbed his car keys, cell and jacket as he went out the door.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian knew he was driving too fast, but thankfully, the road was pretty much empty of traffic and twenty minutes later, having ignored all the speed limits, he turned into Justin's street. There wasn't any phone booth at this end and he drove slowly passed the apartment building, searching for the young man along the sidewalk.

In the light from the street lamps, Brian could now see the phone booth at the end of the block, but there was no sign of Justin, who was hunkered down inside the booth; the door open so the light wouldn't come on and so that he wouldn't be noticed. But seeing the BMW approaching, Justin managed to get to his feet and unsteadily stepped out into the air.

Brian saw how shakily Justin had stepped outside the booth and brought the car to a sudden halt and hurriedly got out and ran across the road to catch the younger man before he fell. Brian looked at him; he couldn't smell any alcohol, but he needed to be sure it wasn't anything else.

Helping Justin across the street, Brian opened up the passenger door and gently sat him inside the car and then crouched down; trying to study him in the interior light, he put his hand on Justin's knee.

“Justin ... are you hurt?” and slowly, the younger man shook his head.

And although he hated to have to ask, Brian felt he didn't have a choice. “Have you taken anything ... are you on something?”

Justin blinked; trying to take in what Brian's was saying and suddenly angry the man appeared to think that whatever had happened must be his fault.

“No ... I haven't ... I ... I.”

“Okay ... take it steady ... take a deep breath.”

“Do you want me to call anybody ... do you need a doctor?” Justin shook his head. “I tried calling Daph,” and Justin took a deep breath and swallowed. “But she must be working ... I daren't call my mom ...”

Brian frowned; whatever had happened, Justin obviously didn't feel he could take it to his mother's and his best friend was unavailable. There was only one solution.

“Then you're coming home with me,” Brian stated and he closed the car door and made his way around to the driver's side and making sure Justin was buckled up, Brian started up the car engine and moved off.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes; trying to unscramble his thoughts and trying not to think what might have happened had he not been able to get away from Burrows.

Opening his eyes and straightening up in his seat, Justin slowly looked across at Brian. The man was concentrating on his driving and not attempting to ask Justin any questions, though he must be burning to ask what had happened to get the young man in this state, and Justin closed his eyes again and leaned back against the cool glass.

From time to time, Brian glanced across to Justin. Moving out of the city into the country; with no street lighting to illuminate the inside of the car, Brian could just make out Justin's features in the moonlight. He could see the young man was pale, but his breathing had normalized, where before it was coming in short gasps.

Neither of them had spoken since they'd driven off, with Brian leaving it up to Justin to tell him what had happened when the young man was ready.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Vic got up and, putting on his robe, went downstairs to make some coffee while he waited to hear from Brian; he didn't want to go back to sleep in case he was needed and just over an hour after the man had left, Vic heard the BMW pull up on the drive and went to the door to meet him.

Brian took Justin by the elbow and helped him out of the car; the young man walking a little ahead of him up the pathway to the house when the door opened. Vic stood on the doorstep and as Justin approached, he could see by the expression on the young man's face that he was pretty upset about something. He glanced at Brian, who shook his head; motioning to Vic for him not to ask Justin anything and he closed the door behind them.

Brian put his hand gently on Justin's shoulder, but couldn't help noticing that the young man flinched at his touch. “Go through to the living room,” he told him and Justin nodded slightly and moved off.

Vic put his hand on Brian's arm. “Are you okay ... do you need me?” he asked him, but Brian shook his head. “Thanks ... no ... I don't know what happened yet ... but you go up ... I'll talk to you in the morning,” and Vic nodded and made his way upstairs.

Going into the living room, Brian found Justin sitting on the sofa, his head leaned back and with his eyes closed. “You look like you need a drink,” stated Brian and opening his eyes, Justin tried to smile at him and he nodded. “Thanks.”

Going over to the cabinet, Brian took out the bottle of Beam and poured out a hefty shot and took it back to Justin.

“Aren't you going to have one with me ... I don't like to drink alone,” Justin asked him as he took the glass; his hands still shaking slightly. Brian rolled his lips back into his mouth as he deliberated and then, for the first time since the accident when Gus was in the house, he went back and poured one for himself. “Okay ... just a small one,” and took his drink over to the armchair; sitting across from Justin.

Justin took a large swallow; feeling the warmth of the liquid work its way down to his stomach and hoped he'd keep it down and Brian watched him and took a sip of his own drink.

Justin rolled the glass around in his hands. “I'm sorry ... when I couldn't get hold of Daph ... I didn't know who to call.”

“That's okay ... I'm glad you did,” Brian reassured him and he looked down in his glass.

“I take it you can't go back to your apartment?” and Brian looked up. Justin shook his head.

“It's okay ... you don't have to tell me anything ... you can stay here tonight,” and Brian took another sip. There was silence, but eventually Justin spoke.

“My ... my landlord tried to rape me,” Justin stated quietly and Brian blinked but said nothing: allowing the younger man to continue uninterrupted.

“He'd made his feelings pretty clear since the moment I moved in ... but I thought I could handle it.”

“He must have been waiting for me ... when I came back from visiting my mom's ... there's never much light in the hallway and I'd just opened my door when he came up behind me and grabbed hold of me ... forcing me inside ...”

Brian heard the catch in Justin's voice as the young man took a deep breath. “He held me face down on the sofa ... I couldn't breathe ... I knew he was going to rape me ... but I did wonder whether he might kill me,” and Justin swallowed the rest of his drink.

“I managed to grab hold of something ... I think it was a soda bottle ... I'm not sure ... anyhow ... I hit him with it and he fell off me ... he grabbed hold of me when I tried to escape ... but I managed to get away.”

“I can't go back there,” he stated and then Justin groaned. “But all my stuff is there ... my art ... everything ...” and he put his hand up to his face.

Putting his own glass down, slowly, Brian moved across and sat beside Justin and removed the empty glass from the young man's hand, which he placed on the side table. Reaching out, he stroked Justin's shoulders; his hand coming to rest at the nape of Justin's neck and Justin gasped.

He'd made up his mind that this time, he wasn't going to cry in front of Brian like some girl and he fought to keep the tears and a combination of shock and relief, at bay. That was until Brian moved closer and held him tighter and Justin gripped Brian's hand and leaned back into the older man's shoulder and closed his eyes as memories of struggling to recover from a previous attack came flooding back and Justin couldn't stop himself from shaking.

Ten minutes later, Brian helped him up off the sofa and took Justin up to the spare room. Vic had already thought ahead and made up the bed and Brian couldn't help smiling: that was so like the man to be prepared and do something without even asking.

Justin sat on the bed. Suddenly, he was incredibly tired and couldn't summon up the effort to undress himself and Brian hesitated, not totally sure whether after the young man's experience, that his assistance would be welcomed. But slowly, he crouched down and started to undo the laces on Justin's sneakers and he removed them. Looking up at Justin, the young man smiled his reassurance and taking the hem of his tee in his hands, took the garment up and over his head and Brian took it from him and placed it on a chair.

Brian winced. There were bruises around Justin's waist and lower chest that the younger man didn't seem to be aware of, presumably where his attacker had held on to him tightly. And obviously totally comfortable and secure in Brian's presence, Justin pulled off his jeans and handed them to Brian who put them with the tee.

Justin slid under the covers and Brian heard him let out a deep sigh. Brian turned to leave, but Justin turned to face him.

“Stay ... don't go ... I don't really feel like being on my own.”

Brian blinked, but getting on the bed and lying on top of the covers, he lay close enough to Justin to feel the heat from the young man's body, but without any contact.

Not quite touching, but knowing the other man was there, it was only moments before Justin was asleep and Brian lay awake, listening to the young man's breathing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian had eased himself up off the bed shortly before dawn; Justin still sound asleep. And, in his slumbers, the young man had moved into him and Brian had automatically put his arm protectively around his shoulders and that's how they were when he'd woken up.

Brian lay there for a moment and, for the first time in his life, realized how good it felt to just lay with another man in his arms.

When Justin was recounting his attack, Brian had once again felt the anger rise within him at the thought of anything happening to Justin. And it was then that he realized the extent of his feelings for the blond whose head was lying on his shoulder; feelings that quite likely, the younger man would never get to know.

Brian knew they couldn't wake up together like this as Justin might misread it for something deeper: more meaningful. But never having allowed anyone to share his life and never allowing someone inside the barriers that he'd learned to protect himself with over the years, Brian was terrified. Terrified of loving someone and terrified of never being in love; maybe going his whole life without ever knowing what it was like to share his heart and soul with someone else, but terrified also of opening up and giving his heart to another, only to have it smashed to pieces. Which is why he'd always tried to convince himself he never needed anyone. But maybe that wasn't true any longer.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin woke around 9:00 and thought he was alone, but as he turned his head, he caught movement; Brian had been sitting in a chair and seeing Justin wake, now got up and walked towards the bed.

Justin propped himself up on his elbow and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Headache?” Brian asked him.

“A little ... I get some really bad ones sometimes ... since the bashing ... I've got some pills ... but they're back at the apartment,” Justin answered him and Brian nodded.

“If you like ... I'll go and get your stuff ... you were right ... you can't go back there.”

Justin sighed and lay back down on the pillows. “What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“Go and take a shower and come down for breakfast ... we'll talk ... I've had an idea,” stated Brian and he smiled at him before turning around and leaving; for the last few hours, he'd been trying to work out a solution to Justin's predicament and wanted to run something past him.

Justin grabbed a quick shower. Earlier on, Brian had briefly left Justin to go and talk to Vic and let the other man know what was happening and to say good morning to Gus, who was bound to be wondering what was happening and might even be a little worried that his dad hadn't appeared that morning.

Vic had come back up with him and retrieved Justin's tee, which was grubby from the manhandling and had quickly put it in with the laundry and dried it and it was now clean, pressed neatly and lying with his jeans.

Justin was glad to immerse himself totally in the hot water of the shower and he winced a little when he felt the bruises. Inspecting himself in the mirror, he was thankful that they didn't seem too bad and hopefully, would only last for a few days.

Going downstairs, Vic presented him with toast, cereal and coffee; the others already having eaten. Brian watched him while he ate, helping himself to another coffee and after Justin had finished, Brian finally outlined his idea.

But first, he told the young man to follow him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The garage was huge; big enough for three cars, but housed Brian's BMW, a couple of bikes, which nowadays, Brian rarely used and the riding-on lawn mower. But it was the rooms above the garage that had given Brian inspiration and it was to there that he now led Justin.

“This is where the chauffeur would live,” and Brian chuckled at the ostentatiousness of it all.

It was a studio apartment, which included a kitchen area and with a separate bathroom; it had come furnished when Brian bought the house and he hadn't bothered to do anything with it and everything was still covered in dust sheets and in good condition.

The main room was light and airy with not only windows looking out to the back of the property, but a large skylight, allowing in a vast quantity of natural light. It would make a perfect home and studio combined.

“Are you serious?” Justin asked him, when Brian told him what he proposed and the young man walked around the large room, trying to take it all in.

“Don't you like it?” Brian asked him, suddenly wondering if he'd made a fool of himself in offering the accommodation and Justin stuttered in reply.

“What ... like it? What's not to like ... it's ... it's ... perfect ... but I'm not sure I could afford it.”

“I'm not asking you to pay rent,” Brian informed him, surprised that the young man even thought that he would, but he saw Justin's expression and understood. “Call it an investment,” and he saw Justin continue to frown.

“No strings,” Brian assured him and he almost held his breath waiting for Justin's reply. Justin bit his lip and scratched behind his ear; an action that Brian always found so appealing, before the young man eventually smiled at him.

“You've gotta deal.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Justin was desperate to retrieve his artwork, but was determined to go back with Brian and face Burrows if he had to and he still had to get his car back to the house in WV. But despite fearing what Burrows might do with his possessions, Justin needed just a little more breathing space to get himself together and he and Brian spent the next hour going through his new home and making a list of everything he might need.

Vic was with Gus in the paddock when Justin and Brian came down from above the garage and Gus waved at them. Brian disappeared inside the house, saying he had a call to make and asked Justin if he'd ask Vic to go and see him and so Justin walked over to the stables, where Gus had dismounted from Buttons and was unsaddling him.

Justin gave Vic Brian's message and the man left them. Gus had talked to Justin about Buttons often enough, but had actually never taken his new friend down to see him. And Justin patted the animal and fed him carrots and the two of them seemed to become buddies straight away and Justin looked around him.

This surely was a wonderful setting with the nearest neighbors' house just visible through the line of trees that separated the two properties. Away from the city and taking a deep breath, Justin drew the clean air into his lungs and for a moment closed his eyes and listened to the quiet.

Justin could see the attraction of living here. He'd grown up in the suburbs in an up market neighborhood himself with a house complete with pool, but nothing anywhere near as grand as this. And although he'd got used to the noisy, dirty and overcrowded city and the only apartment he could actually afford on his own, the environment here was perfect to wind down in and to find some breathing space and, almost certainly, conducive to inspiration.

And a chance of being this close to Brian was just too good to be true.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Brian had made a phone call himself and got Vic to make another one and, thirty minutes later, all four of them got into Brian's BMW and drove off.

Their first stop was the little terraced house that Brian used to know so well and Debbie was waiting on the doorstep as the car door opened and Gus got out. Brian needed Vic's assistance for what they were about to do and needed someone to watch Gus and, for a moment, when the electric window was lowered as Brian smiled at his son, telling him he'd be collected later, he locked eyes with Debbie; the first time he'd seen her in just about three years.

Gus ran to her and turned to wave to them from the step; Debbie's hands on the boy's shoulders. Eventually, Brian turned away as he put the car into gear and moved off and, for a moment, thought he'd seen something in Debbie's expression; regret and not just a little pain. But was it for what he'd done or for what they'd lost he couldn't be sure and in any case, didn't have time to think about it now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They dropped Vic off at the closest U-Haul to Justin's apartment and Vic signed for the van that Brian had booked by telephone earlier and then followed them.

Burrows didn't appear to be around when they climbed the stairs to Justin's apartment; the door was closed but unlocked and apart from there obviously having been a scuffle, nothing appeared to have been touched. Justin sighed with relief as he picked up his wallet and car keys from the floor and found his cell under the sofa, where it must have been kicked during the assault.

Thankfully, the headache had never really materialized, but the first thing Justin retrieved from the medicine cabinet was the Vicodin, which he put in his pocket, just in case.

Leaving Justin to take care of his artwork, Brian and Vic started to load everything else into the storage boxes that Vic had thought to bring with them for taking out to the van, or carried things down in their arms.

Luckily, Justin had managed to cover up the portrait he'd started of Brian and Gus; he didn't want the man to see it yet, but, as he handed it up into Vic, the cloth slipped. Vic looked at him and saw Justin's consternation; “I'll make sure he doesn't see it ...” the older man whispered to him and he winked and Justin smiled; a little embarrassed and patted Vic's arm.

An hour later, all of Justin's things had been retrieved; artwork, materials and possessions loaded into the van and his clothing laid on the back seat of his car; Vic drove off in the van as Justin dropped the keys to the apartment into Burrows mailbox.

“I'll follow you,” stated Brian and Justin hesitated; something telling him not to ask Brian what it was he was about to do and he left the older man standing in the hallway and went out to his car.

Brian looked around him; there was no-one else in evidence and he knocked on Burrows' apartment door; the first one inside the building.

“Delivery for Burrows,” called out Brian, when he didn't get an answer and the door was opened slowly and the man peered out.

Brian looked at him in disgust and couldn't fail to see the cut and large bruise which had appeared on the man's forehead and Burrows looked at Brian in confusion.

“I thought you said you had a delivery,” said the man; looking at Brian standing on his doorstep empty handed.

“I have,” came the reply.

The first blow caught the man in the stomach; Brian's fist almost disappearing into the surplus flesh and the man doubled-over and gasped as the air was knocked out of him.

“That's from Justin,” stated Brian and then he landed the second blow; catching Burrows on the chin and sending him sprawling backwards; the man falling heavily on his ass.

“And that one's from me.”

 

To be continued.

 

 

 

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