Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 12

(Setting: Debbie's House; Saturday's "Family Dinner" with the gang; POV/Hunter)

These family dinners suck big time, but there's no way I can get out of them without causing major hassles on the home front. I have this Jewish friend, Marcy, who's in some of my classes at college; she thinks that having two dads should cut the guilt factor in half. I wish. First of all, with Debbie as a grandmother, that more than makes up for a PTA meeting full of normal parents. How my Dad Michael survived normal ... well, better to stop that thought right there. But her heart's in the right place, as Dad Ben would say, normally after letting out a particularly heavy sigh and practicing some of his yoga breathing. He's been after me to learn it. Probably a good idea.

Like tonight, when she decided, without asking anyone if it would be convenient, to move the family dinner to Saturday from Sunday. So I had to cancel my plans for tonight, as did my dads, and no doubt similarly screwing up the plans of their friend Ted and his boyfriend Blake, as well as Emmett and his new boyfriend, this newscaster for WPYT, an Entertainment and Sports guy he met when he was the Queer Guy for their rival station. Brad Baines. This was only his second time here. He's been away for a couple weeks on assignment for spring training and just got back. He was good looking, in a bleached blond kind of way, as opposed to your natural blond kind of good looks like yours truly. He was no Drew Boyd, either, that was for sure, but Emmett seemed to like him. He was friendly enough. Carl liked having someone to talk sports with who wasn't overtly gay. I think Carl missed Drew almost more than Emmett did. He's pretty good about it, but it has to be tough, living with Pittsburgh's premier Fag Hag. Her insisting on holding court once a week at these dinners couldn't be easy on him.

So, there we were, the usual suspects, with Deb and Carl, and we're waiting for Brian and this new boyfriend, who was the reason the dinner was moved up a day, when the doorbell rang. Since it was still early, and Brian's always late, we were all pretty surprised, except for Deb, who was looking guilty. I was sitting up on the stairs, for a good view of the hottie I'd been led to expect. Ben was sitting with Carl and Brad watching the baseball game. Michael and Ted were still hashing over events from last night's Babylon outing for like the tenth time, while Em and Blake were helping in the kitchen. So Deb makes this big deal out of going over to open the door, and who was there, but Jennifer Taylor and her hottie boyfriend, Tucker, the motorcycle riding schoolteacher who's about half her age. They came in, all smiles, handing Debbie the usual bottle of wine and a covered dish. Debbie made this big fuss about how she'd been thinking this morning about how it had been too long since the family had seen her, and how she shouldn't be a stranger just because little "Sunshine" was up in New York Yeah, right. Just happened to think of her this morning, Deb? And let's have a show of hands on who believed that one. No one? Didn't think so.

Okay, so this was getting interesting, what with Blondie's mom here and Brian expected with his new boyfriend momentarily. Well, "boyfriend" if it could be said that Brian Kinney ever "did boyfriends." Maybe it would be more accurate to say, "new guy that Brian was fucking that he was willing to bring to a family dinner," which, in his case, said quite a lot. And by Blondie, I meant the original Blondie, Justin, of course. Justin, of course, hadn't been seen at one of these gatherings since the big wedding that wasn't some six months ago, and his mom only stopped by once in a while to chat with Deb, usually at the diner, where I inherited Blondie's old waiter job. Wish the old boyfriend came with it, but no such luck, just the apron.

I guess it was kind of awkward for Jen Taylor to come by when her son had dumped everyone like last night's blue plate special. Who could blame her? She always seemed like a nice lady to me though. Hell of a lot nicer than the mom I got dealt in life's poker game. Blondie doesn't know how good he had it here, if you ask me. But Deb's always been his biggest fan. So, Brian no sooner starts dating someone and she not only insists he bring the guy here, she decides this would be a good time to blind side him with a special invite to his almost mother in law at the same dinner? Nice. And to think I almost begged off from this one. I settled back down on the stairs to enjoy myself while my dad Michael wasted his time trying to catch Deb's eye and pull her aside, probably to ask her if she was fucking crazy. Which was a stupid question, like hasn't he been paying attention all these years? I could tell from Ben's furrowed brow that he was mentally struggling with how best to warn Jen of what was to come. This was so telling; Michael was probably all worried about Brian's reaction and Ben was concerned with Jennifer Taylor's, rightly judging that the Stud could handle himself. And thinking of the Devil. I was barely back in my primo viewing seat when the door opened again.

"Mother, I'm home! And on time, for once, or close enough. See what a good influence this choir boy is on me? He wouldn't let me stop for one more round of sex, or even for cigarettes. So if I'm cranky, it's his fault." Brian came laughing into the room followed by, oh my God, the most incredibly gorgeous man I'd seen since I first saw Kinney. The Sex God was balancing two cake carriers on one arm and managing to smack Brian Kinney with his other, despite it's being in a cast. He was laughing, showing off two really deep dimples, the whitest teeth I've ever seen outside a toothpaste ad, and sparkling green eyes. I think I'm gay again. My dick thinks so too.

"Entirely too much information there, Bri. Can someone help me with these so I can properly hit him? He'll be feeling a lot worse than cranky if I have to hear any more complaints out of him about those damn cigarettes for at least the next three hours. Em, for the love of me, please take these cakes? For you, Ms. Debbie, my mama's own chocolate/chocolate cake, and because I told her how partial you are to lemon desserts, she also sent over my sister Mary Kate's special Lemon Crumble Cake. Of course, being as how we are O'Keefe's, I'll have you know these desserts are costing me performances at two Sweet 16 parties, practically a fate worse than death, so I do hope you like them." Tall, dark and hunky not only looked good, he sounded good, with this deep, laughing voice that had just a hint of an Irish accent in it. Yep, I'm going back to guys.

Relieved of the cakes by Em, who he kissed lightly on the mouth, he was pulled back to Kinney's side, as Brian said hi to the sports crowd and made a smart comment about certain people saving their kisses and coming over to be introduced. Grinning , he snaked his good arm around Brian's waist, but let it fall as he glanced around; all of a sudden, a strained silence had fallen on the room as Brian saw Jennifer Taylor standing in the doorway of the dining room. She just stayed there, her hand to her mouth, locked in place. (Guess we now know where Blondie got the drama queen tendencies from). Debbie stayed by the door, holding the bottle of wine Brian had handed her, looking guilty as shit, and Emmett still had the two cake carriers, looking like a party planner whose party just had had one too many grooms show up or something. You could almost see the wheels turning, as he sought frantically for something to say to break the ice. Which was a metaphor I now understood better. It was as though one of Michael's comic book villains had frozen everyone in place. Tucker finally got up to cross over to her from where he had been sitting in the living room next to Carl, like a pretty bump on the sofa, but Brian moved faster, strolling over to her on those long legs of his. He opened his arms wide and engulfed her in a big hug.

"Well ‘Mother' Taylor, I didn't know you were going to be here, what a pleasant surprise. Let me introduce you to an old friend of mine. Can you believe I've known this guy since he was about twelve, amazing huh, how they grow up?" Brian directed one of his exaggerated leers at Danny, making everyone laugh, including Jen. Danny stuck his tongue out at Kinney in response, completing the image of him as a twelve year old, albeit an incredibly hot looking twelve year old, which reduced Jen to giggles, to Brian's delight. "Danny, behave yourself. This lady is a very special friend to me, almost my mother in law, in fact, Justin's mom, Jennifer Taylor. Jen, this brat is Danny O'Keefe, singer, actor, piano player, dancer and until recently, soccer player of some small skill. Now, he's come down so far in the world as to be my dance partner." Danny executed a charming bow to Jen, and kissed her hand, explaining that since he couldn't shake hands due to the broken arm, he was reduced to using other methods of greeting people. She didn't look like she had any complaints.

I had to hand it to Brian, as he stood there with Jen. After first giving her his own tight hug in greeting, sort of to let her know everything was okay between her and him; he just stood there with his arm firmly around her, in case she needed it, as he coolly introduced blondie's mom to the new man in his life. He made some eye contact with this Danny guy, and they seemed to understand each other. Certainly the new boyfriend didn't seem to have any problem at all with how the scene was played. If Deb was expecting Brian to put the guy in his place by saying he wasn't anything special in front of Justin's mom, that didn't quite happen, not in any way at least that upset the new guy. Instead, you got the impression that there was already this understanding between them, at least enough of one that this Danny wouldn't want Jen upset either, because anyone important to Brian would be important to him. You can figure out a lot just be watching people I find, especially when they don't know you're watching.

But the really funny thing came up next, when Jen tried introducing Tucker to Danny.

"Danny, I'd like you to meet..."

"Tuck? If he needs to be introduced to me, all I can say is, he was a lot drunker in high school than even I realized." Danny gave this big grin, which Tucker returned. The rest of us stared, especially Brian and Jen Taylor. I don't know about the others, but I always wondered if a guy as good looking as that Tucker could be straight. Poor Jen looked like she couldn't take any more surprises tonight and Brian was giving Danny a funny look like, what are you about to spring on us, and do you have to do it now? Danny looked back at him perplexed for a second and then around at all the worried faces before bursting out laughing. I think Tuck was clueless as to what was so funny. Danny caught my eye, smirking up there in my vantage spot on the stair, and he gave me a wink. I decided right then I was going to like this guy. I'd already decided I'd like to fuck him, but the two don't always go hand in hand. Or dick in hand, as the case may be.

"We went to the prom together, Brian, but relax, we each had dates, girls even," Danny explained, still chuckling, and causing a general sigh of relief to go through the room. Tuck looked at Jen's relieved face, finally got a clue. He pulled her over to his side, and away from Brian finally, to give her a reassuring kiss. He looked at Danny with a sheepish grin of his own.

"Unfair, O'Keefe, if anyone drank his way through high school, it was you and your brother Jamie. And while I may have taken a girl to the prom, that was no girl you took, she was thirty years old, at least, wasn't she? My mother almost passed out when you showed up with her when you came by our house for pictures!"

"Oh, she was over thirty," Danny agreed, again with that killer smile, "but your dad sure liked her, didn't he? We almost didn't get to leave, he was so busy flirting with her."

With that, the two long-haired Jim Morrison look-alikes fell into a big, straight guy type hug. Turns out they were best buddies in high school, in a band together, soccer team, etc. Drifted apart when Tuck went out of state to school and Danny went to Penn State.

So Jen ended up really liking Danny because he was Tuck's old buddy, and Deb's big plot to break up Brian's new romance kind of fizzled. This was especially true when it turned out that not only did Jen like him, but Carl loved him! A former All American soccer player, Danny was really into sports. Half his cousins were football players and the other half, (he had about a million to hear him talk), were all-state baseball players for Penn State. Plus, a bunch of the ones who were out of school were police officers, and one of his uncles was the assistant police chief for the city. So he took over sitting on the sofa with Carl to watch the game, so they could talk sports and police stuff. Carl was in seventh heaven.

I kept a low profile. Brian called me over from the steps and introduced me as "Mikey and Ben's foundling," which I hated of course, but Danny was pretty nice about it. Told me as the youngest of twelve who was always being introduced to his brothers and sisters friends in some embarrassing manner, I had his fullest sympathy and he offered to teach me karate to put an end to it, which was the only way he found to stop it. Ben, of course, objected to fighting as a means to an end. Ted questioned the practicality. Danny answered both of them, grabbing some carrots from a tray that Emmett had, which made both of them laugh for some reason.

"Karate teaches you discipline of the mind as well as the body, Ben, you should know that. It would help Hunter learn to ignore obnoxious people like Brian." At that Brian snorted and tried to grab Danny, who laughingly demonstrated his ability to fend him off easily, with one arm. Cool. "Plus, as to being able to fight women, Ted, you've seen the women in my family, most of them are my size when fully grown, don't let their dainty teen-age form fool you! O'Keefe girls keep growing well into their late teens and all of my sisters, with the exception of Mary Pat are at least my height. Six foot tall monsters! With muscles of steel, you need the tricks of the orient to defend yourself against them. Are you kidding me, it was horrible being a little boy in that house. It's horrible being a grown man around them, right Emmett? Tuck, am I lying? If we don't marry them off young, they'd stay spinsters. Though they make damn good police officers and firemen." He chewed on his carrots thoughtfully as the others laughed and Tuck tried to defend the honor of the O'Keefe women, who he admitted were built on Amazon proportions. Maybe I would stay bi and check out some of the younger ones. Women who looked like him? In uniforms. My dick agreed again.

"And before you throw things at me Debbie, I'm just kidding," he called in to the kitchen, where Debbie stood glaring. "My sisters are indeed tall but I never use my karate against them. I passively let them walk all over me, as Emmett can witness. But I do think self defense is a good idea for most people, and especially for young men like Hunter. I teach classes at the GLC, and I'd be happy to have him join." Hell, yeah. Deb went back to getting dinner on the table as there really wasn't any way she could use that against him. He smiled; he seemed to delight in finding ways to show her that she was going to have to like him eventually. Everyone else did.

Ben already loved him, of course, because he was active with the hospice and aids issues. During dinner, he was busy roping Danny in to work on yet another funding raiser for the Vic Grassi House, a music show that had acts dropping out right and left, when Emmett raised the issue of another group that needed help.

"It's a shame there hasn't been a benefit for the families of the people killed in the bombing last year, they could use some help. No offense Ben, I know the Vic Grassi House does a lot of good, and God knows I want to honor Vic's memory as much as the next person, but...."

"Then what do you mean? The Vic Grassi House is important and it's work goes on all the time, Emmett! It's not like we can stop with one big fundraiser, like the ride, we have to keep going. You should know that! So what the fuck are you saying?" Debbie's eyes flashed, a sign that she was close to losing it again. Sometimes I really thought the old girl, much as I loved her, could benefit from some prozac or something.

"Why don't you stop asking him and be quiet for a minute so he can tell you what the fuck he means? So, what do you mean, Em? There was a hell of a lot of liability insurance money, and Ted and I made sure the money went directly to the families, first to the families of those who died in the blast, and secondly to those who were injured. The rebuilding of Babylon came form different coverage, so it didn't take a dime from the victims. Are you telling me we missed someone or that they are in need? If so, we can make up for that if we have to, from private funds." Brian had that furrowed brow look, the one he got when he was stressed. He had it at lot back when we were chasing after the cop. Danny placed his hand over the back of his chair, I noticed, and was rubbing his shoulder in an unobtrusive way. Brian leaned back into it.

"I know, Brian, and don't think I'm suggesting there is something you could or should have done to make up this deficit, but the reality is, three families lost breadwinners and, in two cases, their homemakers, that isn't easily fixed with one insurance company payout that is gone in a few months. It's the day to day that's hard to deal with, and in some of these cases, there were kids who may not be able to go to college now, with only one income coming in, even with the insurance money." Emmett looked uncharacteristically serious and pretty much everybody else's face got serious as they thought back to that night. I wasn't here when it happened, but I heard the rehashing from everybody often enough, and saw the TV video replay enough that I felt like I was. It was what made me realize I belonged here, with the people I loved, and who loved me. We almost lost Michael that night, and I still felt a lump in my throat at the thought of being one of those families Em was talking about. I think everybody else was, too, with the possible exception of Brian, and Jen, who might have been thinking of Blondie. He had a sickish look to his face. Of course, being the owner of Babylon, where the bombing occurred didn't help, I suppose.

"Ted, we have to check into this, see what else we can do," Brian snapped.

"Sure, Brian, but we can't bankrupt your other business in order to take care of the world, you know," Ted offered reasonably.

"Sure he can, he's Rage," I said cheerfully, deciding that everyone was entirely too serious. Danny gave me an approving grin. He spoke up, in that sexy voice of his.

"Why not a benefit, as Em first seemed to be suggesting?" He smiled at Em then, "No offense, Em dear, but you do tend to let others get you off track a bit, here we are letting Brian take a guilt trip, everyone is going down memory lane about the bombing, but I think your initial point was excellent, the bombing victims' families, for whatever reason, need a fund-raiser, fine. I'm up for two as easily as one. Have it at Babylon and earmark the funds for the Victims of the Babylon Bombing. Problem solved, let's have cake."

"It isn't that easy, Danny," Ben told him, smiling slightly at his enthusiasm for dessert. "We actually tried, several months ago. No one would touch it. They're afraid. The performers, the food people, hell, even the police. We haven't had an event like that at Babylon since it was rebuilt. And quite frankly, for every fund-raiser we hold, you better than anyone know that I have to double book the entertainment. You've filled in for me more than once." Emmett got up to get him some cake while Ted and Brian were still having a low voiced argument over the insurance.

"Plus, who would dare go to an event associated specifically with the bombing, when the bomber was never caught? People don't want to pay money to be blown up!" Blake chimed in. Michael and Brad nodded. Tuck and Jen sat with their heads down, huddled together; they had been there, I remembered hearing. Justin was one of those who had been among the last ones uncovered in the rubble, but he was unharmed. Debbie looked around at the group, her mood once again having swung around, and this time it was in favor of Em's idea.

"I can't believe you guys! People lost their lives there and now their families need help! Are you fucking saying you would be afraid to help?" A deep mellow voice cut through her shouting, somehow having a calming effect on her.

"I said I would do it and that means if I'm the only act for a twelve hour marathon, I'll do it. Plus, I'll bring my own police squad if need be, although Carl, you can help with that, not to patrol, just to assign shifts and to plan, that would be a help. We'll put some of my scariest sisters and girl cousins on the doors as bouncers, that should keep any bombers away. But if worse comes to worse, we can count on the men. And I'm sure between the one hundred and twenty seven nieces, nephews and cousins between the ages of twenty and thirty-five I've got in this state alone, we can come up with enough waiters and waitresses to staff it from my immediate family if Emmett will tell them what to do and he'll plan the event." Danny grabbed a napkin and a pen from the sideboard and started writing notes and jotting down names in columns. The rest of us just stared. I think it was the one hundred and twenty-seven relatives he could call to mind who would help him out with this that boggled the mind for most of us. He just ignored us, even though Brian and Ted had stopped what they were doing and were staring at him by now, too.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I can arrange for more acts than just what I can work up, and I have an idea already for a theme for it, kind of different types of genres as we move through the hours, classical, pop, rock, show tunes; keep it changing so it doesn't get boring, and throw in dance and maybe some skits as well, some comedy. Perhaps Ben, we should plan on a twelve hour event. Brad, can you perhaps talk to your station's public television channel and see if we can get the air time? I think a Sunday, ten to ten in late June, early July, is a slow time, say eight weeks to ten from now? It would be fabulous if we could get the Fourth of July weekend. Brian, can you do the advertising for us? I assume you'll give us Babylon for the rehearsal time and the marathon itself, Ted you will set up the necessary accounts get any permits we need. Blake, you'll handle the phone set ups and perhaps Jen and Deb, you can help with getting the PFLAG moms on Board with arranging volunteers? My sister Mary Pat will help with that." Danny looked up from his notes taking to see everyone still just staring at him.

"What?" He looked at Brian, wide-eyed and innocent.

"What are you doing, Danny?" Brian asked gently, taking the napkin away from him.

"Planning a marathon fund-raiser, to coincide with Fourth of July weekend probably. Wasn't anybody listening? But I really would do much better if someone would give me another piece of cake, Em really skimped on that last one, and a glass of skim milk while I do it," he smiled. Brian was speechless for a second. I jumped up to cut him a big piece of cake, and one for myself for that matter, and poured him a tall glass of milk. I ran it back to the table, where the usual pandemonium was reigning. He was ignoring it, just going on with his list making.

"Here, it's 1%, that's the best I could do. And here's a tablet too, I figured it would be better than a napkin," I handed him one of my unused college notebooks to use, along with the dessert. I was rewarded with one of those dimpled grins. I got a knowing smirk from Kinney, too.

"What, no cake for me?" he asked.

"Why bother, you'll just eat it off his plate, isn't that what you always did with Justin?" I pointed out. Then I figured that may have been less than tactful as the words seemed to be sucked into this black hole in the room. Everyone suddenly got really busy studying their utensils. Danny didn't even look up from his notes, as he replied.

"The only way I'm sharing this piece of cake is if he makes himself useful and feeds me every other bite since I'm using my only good hand to write with and it's slowing me down. Otherwise, if he tries to take unearned bites from my plate, he'll see what kind of cake defense one learns growing up in a family of twelve, right Em?"

"That's right, the lightening fast fork defense, Hunter, every child in a big family learns to defend his territory! Justin may have learned manners from Jen here, and shared his cake, but only because he wasn't forced to take desperate measures early on to prevent starvation!" With that, Emmett pretended to spear Ted's hand with his fork as it strayed playfully near his plate.

"Ow! That hurt!" Another tense moment successfully avoided, at the nominal expense of a few puncture wounds to Ted's hand as everyone laughed.

Brian drawled, as he raised a bite of cake to his lips and took a nibble from it, "well, we can't have you going through chocolate withdrawal, nor stop your fervid charitable efforts." With that, he pulled the rest of the forkful from his lips, and carried it to Danny's mouth, where he first traced those sculptured lips with the fork before moving the cake into the waiting mouth. .

"My God, he can make sharing cake look obscene," Deb noted sourly. Damn, she was right, I thought, as I watched Brian watch Danny lick the extra chocolate from his lips. He's going to lean in and kiss him now, I thought, just before he leaned in and kissed him.

"Told you it was good cake," Danny murmured.

It was decided that Danny would chair, along with Ben and Jennifer, a fund-raiser for the bombing victim's families, to be held in July, at Babylon. Committee chairs from the various people there were set up, mainly due to the hyperactive chairperson's insistence that there was no point in not deciding everything right then, since we had enough people there for a meeting anyway. He committed his family members right and left to various jobs, until Jen finally asked him, with some exasperation, "but Danny, surely you have to ask your brothers if they'll want to perform a number from the Full Monty!"

"Nah, all I have to do is come up with the right incentive to offer in negotiations, and they'll do it, that's our way, Jen, don't worry," he grinned at her.

"Uh, Danny, are you saying your brothers all look like you?" Blake's eyes were bugged out a bit at the thought of the Full Monty performed by a half dozen men all looking like Danny.

"Not quite."

"Ah, didn't think they could."

"They're all taller for the most part. And John and Jamie are considered to be the good looking ones. Wouldn't you say so, Em? Tuck's no good to ask, he's straight. And he hasn't seen them in years. But you saw them at the soccer game, of all my brothers, John and Jamie are definitely the best looking, aren't they?" Danny's eyes had a twinkle in them as he asked this question of Em, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, next to Brad.

"Oh sweetie, you know I'm partial to you, so I can't really see anyone else when you're around, well other than you, honey," this last bit being thrown in for form's sake to Brad. It was clear to everyone by this point that he wasn't going to last long but we were all hoping he would at least last long enough to set up a meeting with is bosses for Ben and Danny. You could see he was really jealous of Danny's friendship with Emmett. While he was away on that business trip he missed these two becoming best friends. Anyway, with the sop to his ego thrown in, which just made him snort, Emmett continued, "Well, if I had to choose, I would say Jamie has a certain manly charm, though not without his degree of sexiness too, while John is more classically handsome. Now Mark and Matt are more everyday handsome, with Matt having that rugged thing going for him, and Joey is boyishly good-looking, while you, you are..."

"Danny is the epitome of grace and beauty in the male form," Brian said, slipping behind Danny on the kitchen chair, and straddling his hips. "You almost ready to leave?"

"In a few. I just want to nail down a few more things and set a time to get together again, after Brad lets us know when he has scheduled a meeting with his people. Pretty much everything hangs on that."

"And then Judy, we can have a show in the barn, and charge people five cents to watch, and you can sing and I can dance!" Brian said in a excited, falsetto, voice. Danny laughed and pulled his head down with his good arm so he could kiss him.

"Considering how you dance still, I think maybe I'd better be Mickey Rooney and you'd better be Judy Garland, sweetheart." Brad was watching him intently.

"You know, I know we've met before, O'Keefe. When you were with your sister, in Soho, you two used to make that same joke, about being Mickey and Judy."

Brad smirked at Danny in a strange way. It was one of those, "I know something that you know I know, and don't want the others to know" kind of smirks. As a teenager with HIV who had gone to a public school with my background, I became an expert in that smirk. I wanted to punch the guy out right there. Danny looked like he was about ten seconds from doing it himself. He leaned back against Brian and I think he was taking the kind of breaths Ben does when he's doing his yoga. Brian whispered something to him, which sounded like, "let it go," but Danny seemed to shake him off.

It was odd, but the only person Danny hadn't hit it off with the whole dinner was this new boyfriend of Em's. Trouble was, even though Danny didn't like him, Brad didn't seem to pick up on this right away. He kept trying to become Danny's new best friend himself. He'd sidled up to Danny earlier, before dinner, and suggested then that they'd met before, interrupting something Carl was telling Danny about his police career.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Danny had looked at the bleached blond coolly. "I was listening to Carl."

"I was just saying I was pretty sure you and I've met before, in New York," Brad smiled his smarmy newscaster smile at Danny, ignoring Carl.

"I'm sorry, here I was, rambling on when you young fellows probably have a lot you want to talk about." Poor old Carl flushed a little and started to get up. I think he was afraid it was one of those "gay" moments and he was in the way. Danny reached out his hand and put it on the old guy's arm.

"Not at all, Carl, please stay, I would really like to hear the rest of what you were saying about the walking beats back then. Before we got interrupted. My Uncle Ryan had one back then too, back in the seventies, but his was over in the west side, which was a lot different." Turning back briefly to Brad, Danny simply said, "sorry, I met a lot of people in New York over the years, but I don't recall your face."

"I'm really sure we got together, perhaps..." The guy just didn't know when to quit. Again, he was interrupting as Carl opened his mouth to speak. I could see that Ben and Blake, who were sitting nearby, were both shocked by the asshole's rudeness. I looked at Danny to see what he would do. First he tightened his mouth and I thought he was going to fly off the handle. But then he seemed to calm himself down, just as quickly as he got mad. It was almost simultaneous. He leaned back in his seat and appeared to be staring at Brad's face very carefully. The dolt smiled, satisfied that Danny was giving him the attention that he wanted. The green eyes narrowed, and the white teeth flashed suddenly, but it wasn't a real smile. It was more like the cat when it found a mouse that was satisfactory to it. Ah, there you are. He finally answered in a low purring voice, too low for Jen Taylor to hear from where she sat talking with Brian across the living room. I had to strain myself to hear from my seat on the stairs above him and I have excellent hearing.

"Well, I have to tell you, I practically never fucked any blond tricks, because as a general rule, I don't care for blonds. And in a backroom, let's face it, and no pun intended, you don't get to see a trick's face all that much anyway. So why don't you show me your ass and I'll let you know if that looks familiar, because so far, your features aren't ringing any bells. The truth is, I doubt that we ever, ‘got together' as you put it. But I'll take a look at it you want it so badly." He cocked one eyebrow up in a quizzical fashion.

By the end of this speech, delivered in this low, musical baritone that reminded me of the cat in Jungle Book, the rest of us were trying hard not to bust our guts laughing, except for Ben, of course, who is this close to being a saint. Even he looked like he wanted to at least chuckle mildly. Carl was bright red, torn between amusement and embarrassment, I think, although the amusement was winning out, probably due to his long exposure to so much discussion of asses and fucking that living in this house had given him. Brad flushed even brighter red than Carl and stormed off to the kitchen, in search of Emmett, I guess. Danny looked after him for a moment, then commented to the room at large, "we have to find Em someone else." He then turned his attention back to Carl and asked him to continue where he left off.

Brian had been sitting across the room, talking quietly with Jen, catching up on Molly. By unspoken agreement, I think they both avoided discussing Justin. It may have been that neither of them had anything to say about the asshole, because from what I'd heard, he hadn't been all that great about keeping up with anyone. Michael finally got him to agree to allow a new artist to work on Rage, as he was way behind on submitting artwork. If they waited on him, they would have lost their audience. The shithead was dumping on everyone who'd been there for him. I was glad to see Brian with someone new. And this Danny seemed like a good deal, if it wasn't going to be me, that is. For Brian Kinney, I would definitely go back to guys. The dick always agreed on that one. Sometimes at embarrassing times.

Anyway, the two of them avoided each other for a good part of the rest of the night, which no doubt was how Danny intended it, but once everyone got to talking about the bombing, it seemed that Brad decided to ignore Danny's attitude towards him. Until now.

*****************************************************************************

(Setting: Saturday Night Dinner at Debbie's; POV/Jennifer Taylor)

I'd watched Brian with his new boyfriend during dinner. Part of me wanted to scream, "no, this is wrong, he's Justin's, go away, you interloper, you!" I'm sure that's what Debbie had in mind when she sandbagged Brian and me, not to mention this nice boy Danny, with dinner with the ex-in-law tonight. I had to stifle a hysterical giggle at the thought of myself as the ex mother-in-law. Tuck felt my shiver and he reached under the tablecloth for my hand to give it a squeeze. Our eyes met and he smiled at me reassuringly.

Thank God for Tucker. I don't know what I would have done without him over the past year. Or Brian. At the moment, he was focused on his friend, who was once again being confronted by Emmett's oddly intense and rude new boyfriend, Brad. Quite frankly, he was an attractive enough man, but I found him slightly disturbing. More than once, he interrupted Debbie or Carl in order to ask a question of Brian or Ben, or Tuck. His attention was centered on the men he found more attractive or more powerful in the group. Several times he tried to move in on Danny, but was shut down firmly, as this otherwise polite young man seemed to have no compunction about being as rude as possible to the newscaster, with whom, for Emmett's sake, the others exercised a large measure of patience, even Brian, who was not known to suffer fools or bores lightly.

Even now, Brian was whispering in Danny's ear, trying to get him to leave. Danny seemed to have had enough of the other man, however, and wanted to have it out with him.

"What is it you think you know about me, or my sister, Baines? I'm damn sure it wasn't that we hung out with you in Soho. So what is it you're trying to say that you're being so coy about?"

I was shocked to see that Danny looked like a completely different person as he looked at Brad now. His face was cold and set, his words clipped, although still delivered in a very calm and low voice. The green of his eyes were like the sharpest, clearest emeralds in my jewelry case. He looked poised, ready to strike at a moment's sign. I was reminded of a cat, not my house cat, but the kind you see on nature programs, when it has seen it's prey, just before it pounces. Maybe a panther, all lean and sleek muscles.

"What's the matter, O'Keefe, you don't like reminiscing about your sister, good old Angel, the original Dark Angel, wasn't she," I realized that Brad must have gotten drunk, although all there is to drink at Debbie's dinners is some red wine, much to Brian's vocal disgust, and some beer for the guys. He was louder, and slurring his words slightly. The other men were congregating closer now, especially Ben, whose very size made him a comfort in this type of situation. Blake looked worried, and was holding Ted back and Carl was doing the same with Debbie. I saw that Michael had Hunter by the arm. It was comforting in a way how this family immediately took their places at the first signs of trouble. Brian was clearly with his new man, I noted sadly, whereas before he would have been with Justin. Yet, without Danny, he was alone, I reminded myself. Was Justin alone wherever he was tonight? Or did that man he introduced me to take care of him as well as Brian and this family always did?

Emmett tried to grab Brad's arm to lead him away.

"Come on, Brad, there's no need to get into this, you've had a little too much, I'm afraid," Em began, only to be shrugged roughly away by Brad, causing him to bang his arm into the sink.

"What the fuck!" Debbie exclaimed. "Ben, Brian, I think this asshole needs to be taken out."

"Let me handle this, we have a discussion to finish," Danny told her quietly. "Em, go put your arm under cold water, sweetie so it doesn't swell. Hunter, why don't you help him?"

"That's okay honey, but your arm is in a ...." Before Debbie cold finish or Ben and Brian could move closer, Danny had Brad's arm twisted behind his back and was goose stepping him towards the back door, when Brad suddenly shouted out,

"What's the matter, you don't want me telling your new pals, who think you're such hot shit, that the little niece you take such good care of wasn't fathered by any fallen soldier? That the odds on bets in New York say that her daddy was either the crazy billionaire rapist, the slutty faggot back home, or mommy's darling baby brother? So which was it, Danny? You O'Keefes think you're better than everyone else, is incest best?"

It was a one-two punch that landed the obnoxious newscaster in the backyard. But it wasn't Danny, as strong and as upset as he clearly was, who delivered the punches. He just stood there, looking sucker punched himself, poor boy. It was Emmett and Hunter, of all people, who took turns slugging Brad, after first pulling the screaming drunk from his grasp, and Debbie who did the final push out the door, which Carl held open for her. She brushed off her hands gleefully, and turned back to the crowd in the room, where all was in pandemonium.

"Well, good riddance to bad rubbish. I'm sure we can get by without his help for the marathon. Now Danny," Debbie looked at me. "Where did Danny go?"

"I think he went upstairs to the bathroom," I lied to her. She nodded, and went to get ice for Emmett's hand as they all went back to rehashing the episode, as was their habit. Brian sat quietly listening to Michael and Ted discuss the nastiness of the man, without saying much, other than to comment once to confirm that Angel O'Keefe was a lovely girl, who did in fact die young of an unfortunate drug overdose a few years after giving birth to a daughter who was fathered by a soldier. Debbie seemed especially touched by the story of an unwed mother whose child's father died in combat in a foreign land. I couldn't help recalling that Debbie once told me, when a bit tipsy, that she made up the story of Michael's Vietnam Vet father, and that his real dad was a drag queen, who was still alive. Sometimes I think she forgets the truth.

I sat down next to Brian.

"Is he okay?" I whispered.

"Yeah, he will be. Right now, I think he probably needs a little time to get his head together. He loved his sister a lot. Being on their own like that, away from the family, it made them really close. We haven't talked about it yet, but I'm willing to bet, knowing Danny, that he never forgave himself for her death. And ugly rumors, well, they can't help."

"No, they can't." I sat looking at Brian for a moment. I patted his hand and then, at his quick look up, gave him a peck on the cheek. "It wasn't your fault either, Brian. I'm guessing a beautiful ambitious girl like that would have made it to New York eventually, even without your help, right?"

He looked back at me, ruefully, then tapped my head. "Are you stealing Rage's powers now, Jennifer?"

"They must run in the family, ‘son.' And as far as this new friend of yours, for what it's worth, you have my blessing. I want both my boys to be happy. Now stay close, okay?" I blinked away some tears, which I couldn't help, try as I might to keep them from coming. To think how hard I once fought against this man having anything to do with my family, and now I was pleading with him to stay a part of it? Life could play funny tricks on you sometimes.

"You know it, Jen. Someone decent has to dance with Molly at her wedding, besides Justin, that is, because you know you owe me a dance, and it will drive Craig crazy to have me there on the bride's side, looking so much more fabulous than him, especially since his hair is thinning so badly."

"Oh it is, have you seen it lately?"

We settled down to dish on my ex while the gang talked over us, none of them listening to the other; the usual dinner at Debbie's. It was good to be back. Tuck just sat next to me holding my hand and smiling. I think he leaned back and feel asleep for a bit. All those years playing with his band in the summers, touring on a bus, gave him the ability to sleep through anything. Even Debbie.

******************************************************************************

(Setting: Saturday Night Dinner at Debbie's; POV/Hunter)

"Hey" Danny was sitting under the big tree on the front lawn, blocked from view of the house. I only saw him because I happened to look out the window of the upstairs bathroom and saw his feet stretched out to the side. I grabbed a couple of waters and a piece of cake on a paper plate and came outside.

"Hey" I offered the cake to him, along with one of the waters. His eyes lit up. They went from a kind of smoky, jade green to almost that emerald green. Most of the time, they're a mossy kind of green, like grass. God, Brian would say I'm like a lesbian, going on about a guy's eye color, but I was studying them all through dinner. Times like this, when I find myself getting all excited about a guy, I really do wonder whether I'm into guys or chicks. After tonight, it really didn't seem like there was much issue, the guys were winning. Dick votes dick.

"Thanks, I was sitting here wishing I'd grabbed the cake before storming out. Bad planning on my part." He started digging in. Then he looked over, apologetically, "was some of this for you?"

I grinned, "no. I polished off the lemon crumble actually, it was great." He wrinkled his nose.

"Well, I'm glad I brought it then, though I can't believe there are people in this world who prefer that to chocolate." He looked at my hand, which still had the ice pack wrapped around it. "Shit, how's your hand? Let me see."

He moved the ice aside and started moving my fingers around. To tell you the truth, I thought the ice was a bit of overkill, but my hand did swell a little.

"I did jam my thumb a bit," I confessed, as he paused over it, rubbing it slowly, when I winced a bit. He nodded.

"Show me how you make a fist."

"Huh," I asked, always the master of elocution when I'm trying to impress someone. He smiled at me, running his tongue around his lips to get all the chocolate frosting off. (Me, me, let me help you with that!). Wait, was he waiting for something, Hunter, fist, and not like your usual request.

"Like this." I made a fist, like I was about to grab a dick with it, and tucked the thumb down along the inside. I hoped the comparison occurred to him.

"You don't make a fist like you're jerking off with it!" Great, the thought did occur to him and it was the wrong thing apparently. He looked at me all serious as he pulled my hand apart.

"You don't want to tuck your thumb in, you can hurt it pretty badly. Like you did today, although you got a nice amount of power behind your punch so good job!"

"Oh I don't know, even Emmett did better," I said, looking for another compliment. I didn't get it.

"I should think so, I've been giving Emmett lessons for the past week and a half in self defense. He should be able to throw a decent punch. Though to tell you the truth, I didn't know until tonight that he was really paying attention, I thought all he was doing was using it as an excuse to stare at my ass and have me grope him." Danny gave me a friendly grin and I grinned back. Gee, who would stoop so low. (Me, me, give me lessons!). He looked at me from under his lashes after we were quiet for a moment and he had practically scraped the design off the paper plate. I love seeing a bigger pig than me.

"I'll teach you, too, if you want. It's the least I can do in light of your noble defense in there, and for the cake and for..." He trailed off.

"What?" I was curious why he didn't say anything else. If I want...does George Bush want to be elected to a third term and abolish gays?

His voice was really low. "For not asking me any other questions when you came out here."

"Well, I just blew it there, then, didn't I? Had to go and ask ‘what.' That's me, never know when to keep my damn mouth shut. Should I go get more cake and we'll start over so I can get those lessons?" I hit him with my shoulder.

He smiled faintly. He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes.

"I'd better not. No more cake that is, yes to the lessons. Until I get this damn cast off I can't work out as much as I'd like. I'll get as big as a house if I eat as much cake as I want to. But thanks for the offer. So, are you naturally non-curious, or cleverly waiting me out, or did Brian threaten you all to leave me alone?" Suddenly, he seemed to be about my age, and really tired, not just physically tired, though that too, but like he'd seen too much of the seamy side of things, as I had, and it had worn him out before his time. I wanted to make him feel better.

"Brian really likes you, you know." He opened his eyes and looked over at me, startled. "What brought that up?"

"I watch him a lot. For the obvious reasons, of course," I leered and he laughed. Some of the weariness left his face. "And also because I want to be like him when I get older. Rich, wanted by everyone. I'm not too ambitious." He smiled again. In a nice way, not in a "lots of luck kid, in your dreams," kind of way.

"And because in some ways, we were alike when we young. And don't laugh, I know I'm still young, but it doesn't feel that way. You're new to this dysfunctional little family so you don't know my story. You were just told I was Ben and Michael's son, the ‘foundling,' and it's easy enough to tell that I'm adopted, although I guess I could be Ben's biological son, if he knocked some girl up at fifteen. But he didn't. Brian's other little nickname for me was ‘the littlest hustler.' Ben and Michael found me on their doorstep, turning tricks in the old Liberty Avenue neighborhood where they lived up until last year. My mom sent me out on the streets to help fill the family coffers at the age of twelve. I was put in foster care when she went to jail for stabbing my dad. She wanted me back but I found that keeping all the money from blowing old guys and letting them fuck me was better than keeping her as my pimp. Shall I go on?"

"I kind of get the gist but I sense there's more. Didn't she try to get you back? How did two gay men get you away from her?" Danny held my sore hand loosely in his. Funny but there was nothing sexual in his touch, it was purely comforting, the way he held my hand and rubbed the non-sore area lightly with the pad of his thumb. His eyes held my gaze steadily, with no hint of judgment. Well, the kicker was coming, that separated the men from the wimps, so to speak.

"She took us to court and won in fact, but once she found out I'm positive, she booked. And we lived happily ever after. Barring the time I tried being straight and had my girlfriend's parents practically stone me for bleeding in a pool at a swim meet, and the obligatory getting slammed in lockers, being called a faggot, AIDS bashing, you know the drill."

"Yeah, life sucks sometimes. Well, cunt mom, versus HIV, that is a tough call," he said straight faced. "Not sure if I had to make a choice, I could, just as well you didn't have to make the call yourself, you know?" He looked at me and raised that eyebrow again.

"That is a really ignorant thing to say," I told him, grinning back.

"I know, I am a really ignorant person, wanna be my friend? And now that we discussed you," he punched me to show that he was joking, "let's talk about me. Why does all this mean Brian likes me? God, I am such a jerk, talking about me again when you just shared all that intense stuff. Now I'll have to teach you self defense and do something else nice...to be named later, since you're cheering me up admirably. The fact that I'm cheered up by your sad story we shall explore some other time, must be that whole misery loves company thing. Someday, since we're becoming friends, I may have to tell you about my beautiful, destructive model sister, who, since you didn't ask, no, I never fucked. Now, why do you say Brian likes me?" He said this last part very quickly, then looked at me with this incredibly sad face, despite his flippant words. I tried to come up with the right response.

"I think you'll have to arrange an orgy for me with six of your amazon cousins, gender to be decided later, in full uniform," he laughed out loud at that, and I smirked at him but continued, "and I never thought for a second that anything coming out of that jerk's mouth was the truth; I don't go around hitting people all that much, I'll have you know. I'm a lover not a fighter. So back to you and Brian, before you can ask again." He grinned at me, the sad look almost completely gone.

"I used to watch him with Justin a lot, I was always joking that he should dump him and take up with me. I knew of course that he wasn't about to go out with a loser like me, and before you give me the obligatory speech about not being a loser, save it. I was a loser, a sixteen year old hustler, but you know what? I preferred all of his honest shit to everyone else's well meaning pity any day. I knew it was honest. Something you won't hear anyone else telling you, in the revisionist history of ‘The Great Love,' is that they fought a lot of the time. A lot. Sure they were happy sometimes, couldn't keep their hands off each other during their makeup times, but if they weren't making up, they were heading for a break up. And at these dinners, while Justin would sit and be fawned over, Brian would get crapped on, about how he wasn't treating Justin right, he wasn't home enough, he was tricking too much, on and on. Or if they were in one of their honeymoon periods, they would be sneaking upstairs and Justin would be all over him, but as soon as they came back down, there he would be, telling Brian what he wanted him to do next."

Danny had a funny look on his face again. "Any time you want to get to the part about me, wake me up." I punched him this time, forgetting my hand hurt. He grabbed it when I winced and started rubbing it again, although he did laugh at me for being so dumb. So it was a win.

"I'm getting there, this is background, you need this to understand. It used to drive me nuts, seeing how Brian was always giving in eventually yet everybody had this idea that Brian was the bad guy. And no sooner does Justin come back from L.A., then he's moving out again, claiming that Brian won't commit. Then Brian did, after the bombing, but even then, after Justin does his whole orchestrating the big ‘wedding that wasn't' number, he leaves Brian. Again. After getting everything he wanted. Monogamy. The wedding that he cancels although Brian covers for him there. The house in the fucking country. He walks out with no return date. But he still looks like the hero to the people here. He's pursuing his career and okay, the big guy takes it like a man and doesn't complain and Deb still has her Sunshine, as she calls him, canonized. Then you show up, surprise, surprise, throwing Deb for a loop and Justin's mom has her big frozen moment, and everyone is distracted, but I sit and watch how you and Brian interact."

"Finally, me, I get on stage," he murmured, and I debated pulling that ponytail out when, reading my mind, he yanked it out himself and ran his hand through it, wincing a bit.

"Headache?" I asked, sympathetically. He nodded, fishing in his pants for some pills. His bottle of water was empty so I offered mine.

"I didn't drink from it yet," I reassured him.

"I wasn't worried," he said, holding my gaze, before swigging from it. "Hunter, I'm not stupid. And I'm not like your old girlfriend's parents were, so don't think you have to worry about anything you told me. I suspect you prefer to get everything out in the open right away, rather than having it hang over your head, huh?"

"Yeah, though in that case, I probably should have kept a few choice tidbits back, like how I spent my summer vacation, the sucking and fucking part," I winced, remembering my big confession scene, shouting out my life history to Callie's parents. Not one of my better moments.

"But back to you, huh?" I nudged him.

"Always a good choice, I may fall asleep if we talk about anyone else, you ass, talk about you all night, I would rather if truth be told. The tale of Justin may make my chocolate cake come back up," he said twisting his mouth and shaking out his hair. "Besides, I suspect the cavalry will come looking soon, my phone has vibrated about twice now." I looked at him, wondering If I should go on.

"I was kidding, come on, you can't stop now. You just got to me!" He laughed and ruffled my hair.

"Okay, so with you two, you look at each other when the other one is talking. And especially, Brian likes to watch you when you talk. It makes him smile. And he was telling the others about you when you were in the other room with Em, bragging about you, not just about superficial things, real things, your brains and your athletic ability. Can you really speak three foreign languages fluently?" When he nodded, I said, "damn, I can barely speak English fluently."

"I'm a lot older, and actually, I was thinking that you have a pretty impressive command of English for a teen," he pointed out.

"I'm really very smart for a hustler. If that were a scholarship category, former prostitutes, I would have won it hands down. My SATs beat Blondie's actually, which thrilled Michael to no end, since he is the one other person who isn't a Justin fan. But getting back to you, you can play a bunch of instruments, too, I heard?" I couldn't help sounding a bit wistful. Ben and Michael had gotten me a guitar for Christmas but I hadn't gotten all that far with it. Lessons were expensive and I didn't go more than once a week, which was all I could afford, in money or time.

"What do you play?"

"Nothing, I'm trying to learn to play acoustic guitar but that is years away from a reality. Anyway, we're talking about you, remember?" I nudged him again.

"I got bored with me. I have ADD, I'm easily bored. Now we talk about you again. Anyway, the topic was why you think Brian likes me. And the reason was, because we don't fight like cat and dogs, and because we're polite to each other. Sounds like so far the evidence also supports the conclusion that he and Justin were amazingly ill matched, but I know to suggest that is like saying lemon bars are a lousy dessert." He grinned at me. "How about you get your guitar and we fool around with that for a bit?"

"For real?"

"For real. Over there on the front porch. It will give me dignified way of re-entering society. We'll sing and play some and they'll wander out and we'll so wow them the nasty scene inside will be forgotten."

"Uh, Danny, I'm not that good of a guitar player," I warned him before heading in to get my instrument. He just smirked at me.

"You won't have to be, I'm that good a singer. But don't worry; by the time I'm done with you, you'll be amazing, and singing in the fund-raiser, so that anyone you want, of either gender will fall at your feet. No one can resist a singer, Hunter, if he sings the right song."

I paused in the doorway and looked back at the black-haired man sitting cross legged in the grass under the tree. I wondered what the right song would be to capture him?

As I entered the house, Brian was standing on the other side of the doorway, watching. He gave me a half smile.

"Thanks for looking out for him. Does he want to go home now?" he asked me. I was kind of flattered that he would ask me, like I was an equal. I answered in a low voice so no one else would hear.

"Actually, he suggested I get my guitar and he show me some songs outside, so everyone would kind of merge out there. That way, he could blend back in without there having to be a big discussion about it." Brian nodded, accepting the plan.

"Okay, I'll go back in and keep Debbie restrained. She's ready to send out a search party with dogs for him. The only up side being she no longer hates him. I figured from the missing cake you'd found him alive and well." He casually ruffled my hair and went back to the living room where there was the sound of voices chattering on. There must be something about my hair tonight; it was attracting hot guys. Maybe it was my new shampoo? Brian really was a great guy, who deserved someone like Danny. Assuming I wasn't getting him, I thought, grinning and taking the steps three at a time.

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