Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 13

(Setting: early hours of Sunday morning, Danny's townhouse; POV/Emmett)

Some noise woke me. Danny's townhouse is particularly well made and soundproofed, so it's unusual to be woken by a strange noise in the night. Granted, I wasn't sleeping all the well, so it was easy to wake me up, still, I thought it must have been a fairly loud noise to have penetrated into the guest bedroom on the second floor. That's where Danny had tucked me in after comforting me with the usual "he isn't worth a single one of your tears anyway and you're better off without him," pep talk that we sensitive queens are good at giving each other. Of course, it doesn't help the loneliness, or the fact that you're sleeping by yourself while the other couple in the house are fucking each other's brains out, but I did appreciate the thought. And to his credit, Danny did offer to watch some movies with me instead of going to bed with Brian, which offer almost got me burned to a crisp by the force of the Kinney glare. It was almost worth accepting it just to spite Brian and show him this Nelly bottom isn't afraid of him. But, no. Curling up on the sofa with Danny would not have been a good idea last night. And quite frankly, I didn't think he was in all that good a mood himself, so an energetic session in bed was probably just what he needed after Deb's shenanigans. Not to mention what my late lamented boyfriend pulled. Another loser in the Emmett Honeycutt pantheon of jerks. Not one of Deb's finer dinners.

But, all that aside, the bump in the night seemed worth investigating.

Grabbing a handy flashlight from the bedside table drawer for protection, I crept out of the bedroom. I moved towards the dance studio where I could just make out a form crouching in the dark hallway just past the one way window into the studio. Oh my God, there really was an intruder, and the baby's bedroom was just a door away. I raised the flashlight above my head, ready to knock out whomever had made his way into the townhouse, visions of kidnappers racing through my head, when a familiar voice said,

"Honeycutt, if you try to bring that flashlight down on my head, be prepared to lose your own fucking worthless head. Give me a hand and be quiet. I don't want him to know we're out here or to wake up the kid."

"Me be quiet? Was it you who just made that noise that was enough to wake the dead?"

Brian put out a hand for me to help him up and winced a bit. The fact that Barbie and her pink convertible were in far worse shape, however, was immediately evident as I hoisted him to his feet and the remains of Briana's toys were revealed. The indignities didn't end there, as Ken had to be removed from a portion of the Kinney anatomy that few men have had the pleasure of venturing into.

"Never figured Ken for a top," I commented in a whisper, as I watched Brian brush himself off, the doll falling to the floor with a thud.

"Very droll. I didn't see the damn thing in the dark. You think I should check on Briana?"

"I haven't heard a peep out of her room, so she's probably fine. But where's Danny? And why are you walking the hallway up here? I assume he's up here with her if you're up wandering. Isn't it kind of early for a workout in the gym?" Danny's exercise room was on this floor too, but Brian wasn't that devoted to exercise. Danny had picked up Briana from his mother's after the dinner and brought her home. He tried getting Brian to go home, insisting he had to get ready for Church the next day and was tired, but Brian stuck to both of us wounded birds like a mother bird overseeing her charges. He even helped get little Briana settled into bed while Danny devoted himself to me. Right now, however, Brian was looking like an falcon, ready to peck this little night owl's eyes out for being a little too slow on the uptake.

"I woke up and he was missing, but I heard some noises on the baby monitor so I figured he was with Briana. I didn't hear him talking on it though and after a bit, she seemed to settle back down and he didn't come back so I came up to check, in case he was sick again. That's when I tripped on the toy, which is what you heard, I guess. I'd gotten distracted, looking in the studio. Catch a load of that." He indicated in the dance studio, and for I don't know how long, the two of us stood, side by side, watching, transfixed.

Danny was dancing. Words cannot express what it was like, seeing him dance for the first time, really dance, not the kind of dancing he did at Babylon, but the kind of dancing he was born to do, the kind he spent twenty years training his body to do. Even without hearing the music, standing outside the soundproofed room as we were, and with his one arm still in the cast almost to the elbow, it was a sight to make you weep for the beauty of it. George used to tell me that I didn't need to know the language of an opera to follow its tale of romance, and his eyes would shine with fervor and passion; watching Danny dance his lone ballet, I swear I could read a tale of sorrow and loss in his movement that didn't require any program to follow. After a time, it finished. I brushed away my tears, and turned towards Brian. Those beautiful hazel eyes were bright with unshed tears as well. Danny lay curled up on the ground; his sides heaving from his effort.

"Go in to him now," I whispered. "I'll make breakfast for you both in time to get him to Church to sing. Tell him I'll get Briana ready too so he can sleep in a little later, tomorrow. Now go, he looks like he needs you."

"Thanks, Em," Brian looked at me gratefully, then slipped into the studio as I went back to the guest room. From the corner of my eye, I could see him folding Danny into his arms. Someday, I wanted to find out what happened to Danny in New York. But for now, he didn't need anyone's questions. He just needed someone to take care of him, and help him take care of Briana. I could help with the second part, as a friend, even if Brian was slotted for the lover role. And maybe I needed to have a good old fashioned, Joan Crawford goodbye scene with my erstwhile boyfriend Brad, and find out what I could about what New York had done to Danny. Because it made no sense that a dancer like that wasn't dancing in one of the big ballet companies and obviously Brad was dying to tell some version of the story.

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(Setting: Same as above; POV/Brian)

Following the impromptu dance performance, which Emmett and I watched from the hallway, Em returned to bed and I decided to try take his advice and try convincing Danny to do the same. He didn't move as I entered the room so I just went up to where he remained, collapsed on the ground, and wrapped my arms around him. I didn't know what to say, so, in my usual fashion, I said nothing. But I held him, and the memory of that much younger Danny I held so many years ago in my college dorm room was so strong I could almost believe time had shifted. I couldn't help him all that much then, either, but maybe if I hadn't sent him away, held him at arm's length, things would have ended up easier for him in the long run. I didn't have all the details of what happened to him in New York, but from what I was learning now, it was much more fucked up than I ever dreamed of.

His body was still shaking a bit, and I realized that he was probably getting chilled, like any athlete after a work-out. The room was fairly cool and his body was dripping sweat. He was wearing only a thin lycra dance leotard.

"Danny, come on, let's get you in the shower to warm up, kiddo, you're cold, okay?" I tried pulling his curled body up to a standing position but wasn't getting too far.

"Danny, come on, listen to me, Danny!" I brushed his hair back, and was worried to see that he was just staring at a point across the room. I was ready to yell for Emmett, before remembering the room was sound-proofed. I shook him and he finally answered, shaking his damp hair like a puppy that had fallen in under its head in a lake and didn't know what had happened. He looked at me confused for a moment, probably wondering where the fuck I came from. Then he blushed as he looked around and seemed to realize where he was.

"Sorry ... shit ... I'll get up in a minute... fuck, what time is it? Don't answer that, I know it's late, I'm sorry, did I wake you, I didn't think the noise traveled, or the whatever ... the thumping ...." He glanced at the wall. "Briana's still asleep. What did wake you up Bri? It's the middle of the night and I would know if the monitor went off, there's a light that flashes in here." His eyes focused now, he looked at me intently, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to get up in the middle of the night and dance like your life depended on it in an empty room.

"Why did you come up here to dance, Danny? If you needed to burn off some calories, and lord knows why, as you hardly ate anything at dinner, I would have been more than happy to help you do it. But seriously, right now you're shaking like crazy, emphasis on the word crazy, so why don't we head back downstairs and you get a hot shower? Or better yet, we'll get a hot shower together, and you tell me what's so wrong that you danced yourself practically into a catatonic state tonight."

He just looked at me and tightened his mouth, wrapping his arms around his legs to stop the shivering. I wrapped my arms back around him, partially in an effort to warm him, but mainly in an effort to reach him.

"You know I'm always on your side, don't you? Plus I'm going to make you do what I want eventually so why not give in now or I'll start calling you names like baby and sonny boy, and we both know how much you hate that. Besides, I really don't want us to take that step backward," I whispered in his ear. His mouth quirked up and I moved my mouth around from his ear to kiss it. He got up gracefully and I followed, a little less so. These soccer practices were taking a toll on me, to tell the truth, although I would never admit it out loud.

"I know I'm being a nut case on you, I know it, and I'll stop it. I just didn't expect, I didn't think all that old shit from New York would come back to haunt me here. And there's just too many coincidences. Emmett's boyfriend. And Tucker being there. Hell, even Ben being married to your best friend; did you know he's practically the first person I made friends with when I came back to Pittsburgh and enrolled in grad school again? I thought I finally could just come back home to stay and be left alone to raise Briana, but now, I don't know," he looked at me with those big eyes of his. "I feel trapped again, Brian, and it's a really horrible feeling. It all builds up in me and I try dancing it away, but sometimes even that doesn't help, and I don't know whether to run, to stay, what the fuck to do this time."

"Well, I'm glad you're talking, that's a good start. I don't mind telling you that you were beginning to scare the shit out of me with the staring thing, but until you give me more of the specifics of why you feel trapped, I can't begin to help you, so let's get you showered and dressed and then you're going to do some explaining. And some eating too, I think you must be starving after that work-out, which by the way, was amazing. I haven't seen dancing like that in, fuck, I don't know when. Kiddo, you belong on Broadway, or choreographing your own dance troupe or something." He just looked at me and gave a mirthless sound seemingly intended to be a laugh but completely alien to his usual joyful one.

"I know. And the reason I'm not is named Edward Simon."

I looked at him sharply but didn't say anything else for the moment as the main thing right then was to get him taken care of, warm and clean, then fed. Unlike me, he maintained a refrigerator that actually had food in it. Like me, he was anal about eating food after a certain hour, but once I had him tucked back into bed, he did agree to a snack of left-over steamed chicken, fruit and some sliced raw vegetables. I think Emmett, who had practically moved into Danny's from Deb's house since the accident, had taken to keeping his frig stocked with healthy snacks of this sort. They certainly came in handy now. Danny sat in the bed, again in my faded old sweat pants, which he confessed one night to washing almost daily as they were his favorite thing to throw on at night. I was thinking of going through my drawers and seeing if I could find him some more as they looked a hell of a sight better on him than they did on me. Naked was even better, but I could see where having the guardianship of a four year old niece did limit the amount of walking around naked one could do. Actually, that was another reason I should keep some more sweats here, for my use. I intended to start spending more time here, which meant more time around Briana. It was different being around a little girl than a little boy, not that I was used to spending all that much time with Gus. Not as much as I wished I had.

Danny looked over at me, his mouth full of carrots. He saw me staring and quickly finished chewing.

"Thanks, Bri, I feel a lot better. Sorry for being such a nutcase on you. Will you accept that it's just the artistic temperament and not call for the men in the white coats quite yet?" He reached out for my leg and started stroking my thigh slowly, smiling in that way of his that always was a prelude to hot sex. I bit my lip and held his hand, keeping it still, for the moment. Shit, I was turning in to such a fucking boy scout in my old, scratch that, less immature, age.

"Let's talk for a bit first. You mentioned an Edward Simon, I take it you knew him when you were in New York?" I decided to start out slow. How Justin's new "friend" fit into this equation wasn't my primary interest at this point, getting to the root of Danny's troubles was, but I confess that the coincidence of Simon's name coming up did pique my interest. Danny spoke of being freaked out by the coincidences, if he knew about this one, he would really lose it.

"Yeah, if you're gay and into the arts, you run into Edward Simon. Let me amend that, if you're good looking, and into the arts, you're bound to run into Edward, he leaves the trolls to their own devices. They get to sink or swim based on their talent. Lucky trolls." He gave me a weak grin and grabbed another carrot, more to stall for time than anything else I suspected, but I let him. I waited and he started up again after a minute.

"Anyway, I hear he's been branching out into other fields lately. He'd taken a baseball player under his benevolent wing in the recent past, and now I heard it's a painter. My friends make a point of keeping me up to date. Plus, in between new ‘angels,' as he likes to call them, he likes to sometimes take another stab at me, so it pays to keep tabs on him from a distance. Anyway, it used to be just singers, actors and dancers. Broadway fare" Danny munched on another carrot and contemplated the chicken so he missed my frown at the mention of the "painter." And what the fuck did he mean by taking another stab at Danny? It sounded like this clown had some kind of fucking collection and Justin was the latest prize, but he wanted to add Danny to it too. I worked to get my temper under control and to make sure no sign of it showed on my face. I wasn't sure if Danny knew who the painter was, there was no indication on his face that he knew that this guy's latest boy-toy was my ex. But then, he was telling his story in an almost disinterested voice, as though it didn't involve him, either. That alone was odd for him, as he always used his voice to maximum effect on all occasions, even when talking to wrong numbers on the phone. Clearly this Simon guy fucked with his head something serious.

Danny left most of the food untouched; he was such a contrast to Justin, who would've had the entire selection gone in two minutes and been up looking for more. I felt guilty comparing the two all the time, like a parent who was always contrasting the habits of two very different children but knew they weren't supposed to have a favorite. My mother was like that, always comparing Claire and me, but then insisting that she didn't favor one over the other. Oddly enough, in many ways, she praised me more to outsiders, and I'm sure if you asked anyone in her parish, they would tell you I was the favorite Kinney child. Yeah, right. Joan's favorite hell-bound son.

But, my mind was wandering. With Danny and Justin, it was easy not to have a favorite because they were like chocolate cake and lemon bars, so different you couldn't compare them. Both fantastic in their own way. Pay attention Kinney: he was showing no signs of continuing this story without prompting, so it was time for me to focus on the task at hand and not boy desserts.

"Since you were the hottest thing to hit New York since lox and bagels, and more talented than six Judy Garlands, I'm assuming you hit his radar, like when? When you first went to the City as a kid of seventeen?"

"No, not the first year, he missed me until the second year. He was away I think and I was in one of my more hetero phases, if you can believe I ever had such a thing. I guess I was trying to fit in with expectations, I don't know, whatever, it didn't work out. I guess you could say I flamed out." He gave me a half hearted grin and I smacked him on the shoulder.

"Very funny, come on, what happened next?" I fixed him with my Kinney stare, something Danny had always been fairly unimpressed by. Tonight was no different, He merely gave me a weary smile and stretched out in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was difficult to concentrate, as much as I wanted to, with that body lying there in the bed next to me, its full length clad only in those indecently thin sweat pants. I suspect he knew that too when he changed positions. Danny was nothing if not fully conscious of his body and its power over men and women.

"I really don't want to discuss this tonight with you, Brian. I dance to forget it, quite frankly. Since I know you won't drop it, let's just say, without getting into all the gory details, that Simon made it clear that to make it in his town, I'd have to hook up with him. He's like the gay godfather of the arts, if he wants you in his little harem, you have to play along or you don't get to perform."

"That's medieval, you're telling me that you had to prostitute yourself to this guy to get parts?" I looked at him, shaken. I tried to remember where I was then. I would have been twenty-four, twenty-five, still with Ryder. Angel had her Dark Angel contract and Danny started out modeling with her when he was still in college, and spending summers in the City. But I was busy with my life and didn't see the kid much back in those days. I knew his soccer was going great, and was proud to hear he was doing so well modeling and acting also. Seeing the shadows in his eyes now, I felt guilty for not keeping closer watch over him.

I pulled him up into my arms. My voice was harsh as I asked him again,

"What did you have to do, Danny? I'm not judging you, you know." He laughed back at me, this time, his laugh harsh and cold, and he pulled away. His voice stayed low and controlled as he answered:

"Thanks, Brian, how nice to know that the guy who's fucked thousands isn't judging me."

"Wait a second, where is that coming from?" I tried to grab him but he was getting up. He was so wiped out from his frenzied performance upstairs, he staggered a bit; he still was recovering from the concussion so it wasn't that hard to pull him back into the bed. At any other time, he could wipe up the floor with me, but tonight, I had the advantage and I took it. I pulled in into my arms and held tight, wrapping my legs around his waist. His face was closed off, stormy; so completely beautiful it almost took my breath away. I took his chin in my hand and turned him until his gaze met mine, first angry, then searching. Whatever he saw must have the right thing, because the green eyes softened almost at once. I spoke before I could lose him again.

"Danny, I'm on your side, talk to me. When I say the wrong thing, fuck it, I do that, but you know I don't think anything wrong about you, so screw getting pissed and talk to me, I'm listening, okay? I don't do this kind of thing well but I'm trying. Should I go get Emmett? He does this listening, caring stuff better, but I kind of wanted it to be you and me, because, well..." I sucked in my lip and looked at him.

"Why, Brian?" He kept looking up at me, holding himself tensely; I still had my legs around him but I felt like he would spring away again any second if I unwrapped them. I couldn't bullshit him, looking at me with those clear green eyes, this was the Danny O'Keefe, who I'd known since he was a boy, and I couldn't hide behind my usual mask. I had either to back away now or be there for him, because he'd been hurt badly, and I sure as shit couldn't add to it. I pulled him in closer and pressed his head against my chest, weaving my fingers into his hair. I took a deep breath.

"Because, Danny, that's the way it's going to be from now on," I whispered. He let out a sigh and then he told me the story of what that bastard did to him. My tears stayed hidden in his black hair as I vowed that Edward Simon would someday pay. I vowed also that there was no way I would let him make Justin one of his victims.

As I held Danny, stroking his hair, I continued to think. Justin looked happy in the pictures I'd seen of him with that man. I couldn't help that small voice inside my head that said that maybe Justin had made a willing choice to go to this guy. He'd left me before, more than once, and while we'd found our way back together, the fact remained that it was always Justin who left. And the truth was, we made no promises this time. But if this Simon was what he wanted, the type of man who would do the type of thing he did to Danny to someone, then Justin was going to have to tell me that to my face. Explain how he could want to be with someone like this Simon.

Yet, what if his situation was the same as Danny's? It wouldn't be the first time he kept something back from me out of pride. But how could he possibly think he had no choice but to sell himself simply to market his art? He left me because he wanted to make it on his own; why would he think it better to sell his ass to some rich New Yorker who threatened to keep him from making it as an artist if he didn't? Maybe the man could influence the theater community to some extent against a twenty-one year old kid trying to make it on Broadway, where they need investors, but surely Justin wasn't so naive as to think this guy could influence the entire New York art community against him? And if I knew Justin Taylor, anyone who made such a threat would get his balls handed to him. So why else would Justin be with him? My mind was just going in circles with this. I lowered myself back down against the pillows carefully, so as not to disturb Danny, who had fallen asleep against my chest. I finally closed my eyes to sleep, my arms still curved protectively around the dark haired man resting under my chin.

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(Setting: Justin's studio, located above Edward Simon's Time's Square Art Gallery, a week or two after Juan's good-bye party; POV/Justin)

I looked over at Edward, who was examining my newest painting, which had been completed a couple of days ago. Several other finished canvases were displayed next to it. I was already back at work, this time on large mural. The move to the bigger studio above Edward's Gallery, combined with the sights and sounds of the City itself, was filling me with inspiration, and I felt like burning through the canvases. Ideas poured into my head more than at any other time in my life and achieving what my mind's eye saw on the canvas never seemed easier than in this sparkling state of the art, fully equipped studio. It was an artist's dream come true. And yet.

I found myself chewing on the tip of my brush, waiting for Edward's verdict on my work. I'd been putting off confronting Edward about Juan's crazy story. No, I corrected myself, confronting wasn't the correct word. It wasn't like I wanted to pick a fight with Edward or anything. I just wanted to ask him about it. I'd already made it clear to Juan that I didn't believe his crazy story. Edward was a respectable businessman, not some obsessed old queen, stalking some talented gay kid. Fuck, Juan had practically come right out and accused him of killing this guy's sister, after getting her hooked on cocaine, fucking her and getting her pregnant. And all because some nineteen year old show tune hotshot wouldn't let him fuck him? Yeah, right. He must have fallen asleep after reading one of those soap opera scripts he was getting from his agent all the time and gotten confused. From what I could see of the Broadway wannabee's who flocked around Edward at the play openings we'd gone to, they were practically stripping and bending over for him in the men's rooms at intermission to catch his eye and get an audition. I had trouble believing one was so special that Edward chased after him. I couldn't see Edward chasing after any twink, but hell, he was not just chasing him, according to Juan, but he went to such incredible lengths for him as was certifiable.

I don't care how many octaves the kid could yell "fuck me" in, I chuckled to myself, that just wasn't the cool, calm Edward I knew. My laugh became audible as I thought of Edward in bed with a woman, much less impregnating one, out of some warped frustration for her brother.

"You're in a good mood today, angel, and you should be, this is fantastic work, I'm thrilled," Edward pronounced finally, before coming over to me and hugging me warmly. "Aren't you glad now that you listened to me and made the move over here to the new studio? Your work is progressing so much more rapidly since you did. I really think you'll have enough first rate product for a one man show by September, October at the latest."

"Edward, that's fantastic, are you sure? That would be incredible, but where, the place down in Soho?"

I forgot all about Dark Angels with this bombshell. I knew my work was starting to move, and that it was getting good word of mouth, but a one man show in New York City, in less than a year? That was fucking out of this world!

"I'm not in the habit of giving away my best finds to galleries in Soho, especially finds that I am giving "developing artist" space to here above my own Gallery. Do you think I am a bad businessman, Justin? You will debut here, of course, as I always intended, love, with my only caveat being whether you will be able to continue to keep this pace and quality of work up, even through the summer, and then choice between September and October will be dependant on how much of your art we allow out to the other top galleries through the next several months to keep interest up. You will be working very hard all through the next six months, I fear, but I think we can work in a flying visit to the south of France or Monaco, to give you some fresh inspiration, say around late July, August, when New York gets unbearable."

"Oh my God, that would be incredible." France! I always wanted to go there. I knew Edward would want some thirty or forty pieces for a show and assuming I sold some between now and then, I had a ton of work to do, but still, a one man show! With a break to go to France or Monaco, (and knowing Edward, we'd probably see both), thrown in, in the middle for inspiration! I threw my arms around his waist and dragged him over to the chaise lounge in the corner of the studio to show him my appreciation. This was not the time for petty questions.

It was some time later, lying with my head resting on Edward's chest, the two of us dozing in the late afternoon sun, that I thought to ask about something else that Juan had raised that niggled at the back of my mind. Like an itch.

"Edward ...?"

"Hmmm?" I really liked the way his chest felt. He didn't shave it as so many men did, and it had a nice amount of hair, dark and springy. Not grey, came the thought, which I pushed away. Of course it wasn't grey. He wasn't old enough for it to be grey. But your dad's chest hair had gotten grey around forty-five, came the rebellious thought, which sounded suspiciously like it was in Juan's voice, or more like that jerk twin brother of his, neither of whom had ever seen my Dad's chest hair, eww, gross thought... stop right there. There was no way Edward was dying his chest hair when it would be so much easier to shave it. I moved my head off his chest and leaned up on my elbow. Fucking Juan and his suspicions. Fucking Miguel for being so hot when I danced with him and then ... what? Not calling for two weeks. Now where did that thought come from? And what was it that Juan claimed? That Edward kept me from having friends or seeing my friends back home. Especially one friend back home said that annoying voice. That was so not true. I had friends. Well, I didn't in New York right now, but that's because I was busy, becoming an artist. But I had plenty back home, and it was time for a visit.

"Edward, you wouldn't mind if I went home for a visit before, like, buckling down to work on all the new paintings, would you? I'd kind of like to tell my mom and friends about the show in person, they'll be so excited." Brian, I want to tell Brian.

"Of course not, baby, you can go home anytime you want. Do you think I'm keeping you prisoner here?" Edward chuckled, his deep, warm chuckle. Suddenly, I felt silly for letting Juan's worries get to me. Yet, Juan was my friend. Or, at least he had been, that stupid small voice in my head said, before I walked out of his apartment that last night without a word of goodbye. No wonder Miguel hasn't called. You hurt Juan, you piss off Miguel, I reminded myself. I was surprised by the pang of loss I felt. And by how lonely I felt. I certainly hadn't been looking forward to the stupid law student keeping an eye on me, had I? And I was perfectly capable of making friends on my own, regardless of what Juan thought, I'd just been too busy. But maybe I should contact Miguel and find out how to reach Juan to apologize? That would be the polite thing to do.

Edward was watching me, his face looking concerned.

"Is something wrong, Justin, are you working too hard? Maybe a show in the fall is too soon? I just want to take advantage of these flickers of interest in you, and fan them into flames, especially since you're seeing such a growth of your gift right now. But if you think it's too much, I can find someone else for the fall show ...." His voice trailed off. I jumped in.

"No way is someone else getting my show, Edward, get that thought right out of your head! I don't have to go to Pittsburgh right now, I just thought it would be nice to tell my mom and friends about the show in person, that's all. I haven't been back there in months."

"I have a better idea, why don't we fly your mother and sister up here for Mother's Day? It would be a special treat for your mother, and, what's her name, Molly? They could go on a shopping spree and stay in the visitor's suite on the second floor, as my guest. What do you think?"

I looked at him nervously. It would mean really letting my mom know about my relationship with Edward. She kind of knows I'm seeing him, hell after all those newspaper photos, everyone knows, possibly even Brian, but coming here as Edward's guest might give her an impression that I wasn't ready to give. He gave me a knowing smile.

"You can explain to her that the suite is made available to the families of the developing artist in residence as a matter of course whenever it's available and not needed for some other visiting artist, and that it's not a sign of you being a kept man. You're so sensitive, angel. Would you feel better if we made your mother and sister a reservation at the Marriott Marquis across the Square? It would cost a good deal more." He raised an eyebrow at me, enquiringly.

I felt stupid. Who was I kidding? I was living here with Edward. And while I was technically the "artist in residence," there wasn't a person in the place who didn't treat me as Mr. Simon's boyfriend. So why was I afraid to have my mom and especially my outspoken young sister see that? Because it would get back to Brian and I figured as long as he didn't know about it, I could eventually have everything go back to normal when I got back home. Whenever that was. But for right now, Edward was waiting for an answer.

"Well, Mom isn't big on coming to New York, she has this boyfriend in Pittsburgh and all, and on Mother's Day, Molly has to split her time between Mom and her new stepmother," I could hear myself telling these lies and wondering where they were coming from; Mom not wanting to come to New York, especially if someone else were treating her? And Molly giving up a trip up here in order to be near her dear, new, young stepmother? I said a little prayer for forgiveness as I finished my lies. Then I smiled at Edward.

"I think what I should do is take a flying trip down there for Mother's Day, maybe go for a long weekend, say arrive Friday morning, catch up with everyone, and then get back up here by Monday night, Tuesday morning tops, ready to paint up a storm."

"If that's what you want, baby, I'll have George make the arrangements for you."

"You don't have to do that, I can manage it," I protested, a little irritated.

"It's no problem at all, angel, it's silly for you to waste your hard earned money when we can get you the seats using my miles now, isn't it? And I want to make sure you're coming back as promised, to work on those paintings." He pulled me close and started to nuzzle my neck.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?" He was moving lower with his kisses. Perhaps this wasn't the time to question him yet. Acting on instinct, I moved quickly to roll on top of Edward and straddle him. Sitting on top of his legs, I was able to pin his arms down and press my kisses down on his nipples. While I had a certain amount of strength in my arms, more than I looked to have, I knew he far outmatched me, so my only hope lay in getting him so distracted with lust early that it kept him in place and in my power.

"Who was Danny O'Keefe?" Fuck, where did that question come from? I tensed, waiting for his reaction..

"Where did that question come from?" Edward easily displaced me, rolling to reverse our positions, so that he was leaning above me, my arms pinned to the side of my head.. He looked calm, but then, there was no discernable expression in his eyes. He was merely watching me, his face as much a mask as Brian's ever was.

"No reason, just someone I heard talked about down in the Village the other night," I lied, poorly. I bit my lip.

Edward laughed. I could feel my face grow red.

"Simple idle curiosity, is that it? I must be losing my touch for you to become so distracted by idle thoughts when we are about to begin making love. At least, I thought we were about to begin making love," he chuckled some more. I started to interrupt but he stopped me. "No, don't try, you are a terrible liar, Justin, it is part of your charm. Let me guess, instead. I would imagine that some well meaning person has been telling you that old story about the ‘Dark Angel,' to scare you away from me. Really, you would think the old queens would have something better to do with their time than to try trotting that old one out with every new love interest of mine they meet in an attempt to scare him off. I guess I'm lucky you didn't go running back to Pittsburgh already but at least give me the chance to explain, as clumsily as you try raising the topic. Which version did you get?"

"Version?" I managed to squeak, hiding my bright red face in his armpit.

"What? You didn't think there was only one version of this urban legend did you?" Edward pulled me up and sat me up in the bed so I could look him in the face. All I could see in his handsome face was rueful humor tinged with slight annoyance. Quiet now, aren't you, stupid voice, when I could use you to give me something useful to say.

"So there was no Danny O'Keefe who was your Dark Angel?" I finally dared to ask. He sighed.

"Oh, there was a young man several years ago with that name, and yes, he was associated with an ad campaign by that name. I don't know that he was ‘my' dark angel.' He was a very pretty boy, with a great deal of ambition, and a certain amount of talent, not nearly as much talent as ambition, I'm afraid. I made the mistake of getting involved with him, and he did not take it very well when I ended our relationship. Indeed, one of the reasons I ended the relationship was because he expected certain favors of me, to be awarded certain parts that were far beyond his capabilities and age, based solely on his connection with me. I found out that he was trading on my status as my boyfriend. Even in the show that he did get into, was failing to show up for rehearsals, talking back to the director, generally causing such a problem that he got himself fired and was blackballed from other shows. You know how I feel about business, Justin, it's all well and good to mix business with pleasure, but never think that I let my pleasure interfere with my judgment in business decisions. You understand that. Danny O'Keefe didn't, I'm afraid."

"So what happened to him?"

"Well, he came to me a few times demanding that I help get him more work. I couldn't do that. As I said, my personal relationships don't interfere with my business decisions. Young Danny couldn't accept that. Don't get me wrong. He was an adequate singer and a very good dancer, but his work habits were terrible. He started stalking me. I had to get a bodyguard. He was a very strong young man, you see, as he'd been an athlete in college and was a karate expert. I almost had to take out a restraining order against him to keep him away. I don't mind telling you I was afraid of him, as he had a terrible temper. He even told people I was responsible for his sister's death, when everyone knew that she'd had a drug problem for years, poor girl."

"Wow, that certainly is a different story from what I heard, and yet, I can see how it got twisted." I thought about the story Juan told, and there were some similarities.

"Well, I hope you don't think I'm the one doing the twisting," Edward smiled.

"Of course not," I told him, hugging him. "And I'll have you know that even before you explained this, I stood up for you, so there was no need for you to laugh at me earlier for falling for an ‘urban myth.'. I knew there was no way you would have slept with some guy's sister and gotten her pregnant! Maybe the rest of it, but that part ,no, you like cock too much." I smirked at him.

"Ah, you did get the full blown version, didn't you? I believe that one has me doing everything but foreclosing on the family homestead and casting his widowed mother on the street if he didn't sacrifice his virtue to me, the mustache twirling villain. Not that he had any virtue to lose, he was quite the little slut, our Danny. He even had my initials tattooed on his ass to impress me, but I think the act would have been more touching if he didn't let the tattoo artist fuck him first. But. I'm curious, if you were so confident of my innocence, why are you sitting there wasting our time with silly questions about people I haven't thought about in years instead of showing me what a good angel you can be?" With that, Edward pushed me back down on the bed and moved over me.

The sex was rough and hard. Barely taking time to don a condom and lube his cock, Edward jerked my legs up onto his shoulders, and entered me. He smiled at the sound of my gasp but didn't slow down. With one hand he pulled my arms above my head and held them pinned there as the other held himself up. He looked so hot as he fucked me fiercely, struggling to maintain a semblance of control and finally losing it completely.

"You're mine, Justin, my Bright Angel," he whispered in my ear before sliding from me and rolling away. "You have such power over me, and you know it and love it, don't you?" He laughed low as he pulled me into his arms. I merely smiled at him. Some comments need no reply.

It wasn't until much later that night that I thought to look up the Dark Angel ad campaign from several years earlier on the internet. Just out of idle curiosity, of course. And on some level, I wasn't surprised to see that both of the O'Keefes had very black hair, somewhat like Juan's, only Danny's was curlier, wilder looking. Their eyes were sparkling green, which showed up even in the internet photos. And they were more than "very pretty," Angel and Danny O'Keefe were probably two of the hottest models ever to grace a magazine cover together.

Looking at those sultry eyes in the picture, I had trouble picturing him as the sweet innocent that Juan described. Moreover, the facts were there as Edward had said, the news articles spoke of him being a soccer star, and one writer mentioned he had a black belt in martial arts. He won a part in a Broadway show at twenty-one but then was fired before opening night. Edward came in as I was reading. I quickly closed out the search. There was no point in reading any further; I'd seen enough.

"George was making your travel plans, angel, and wanted to talk to you. Do you have time now to talk to him?" His glance flickered to my laptop. I flashed him a big smile.

"Sure, I'm done with this research," I told him and turned off the computer. It was a shame what a person had to put up with just because they were rich and famous, I thought as I wrapped my arm around Edward and left the room. Everyone was ready to stab you in the back. I hoped I never got so successful that I had to deal with that kind of trouble.

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

(Setting: O'Keefe Family Home; Sunday Afternoon; POV/ Brian)

The O'Keefe family Sunday dinner was as much a tradition as the weekly soccer game, with the exception that the soccer did have an off season of sorts. When the snow was more than eight inches deep, they would consider calling a game. Even when the league was not in season, the O'Keefes themselves would meet up on Sunday afternoons to play and practice, the older ones using those times to pass on skills to the younger ones coming along. Afterward, as many who were able to would meet up at the house Mama Rose still lived in, and a big meal would be shared, along with all of the family gossip.

Friends were always welcome, but it was an unspoken tradition that no "dates" were brought unless the individual in question were being submitted for Mama Rose's approval. The sons and daughters all followed this rule, as did her nieces and nephews, Rose being recognized by her husband's brothers' families as the Matriarch over the extended O'Keefe clan. Now it was the grandchildren and great-nieces and great-nephews who were being brought to make the shy introductions to her as she sat in her rocker at these noisy gatherings, sparkling eyes missing nothing, as her soft brogue would softly welcome the newcomer. She then put them through a cross-examination that would have made Clarence Darrow proud. Many a charming woman was dumped by a handsome O'Keefe male, and many an eligible bachelor found his calls not returned by a pretty O'Keefe female, after failing to pass the Mama Rose test. It was funny when Joey and I were snickering from the sidelines, watching some poor sucker go through it. It wasn't so funny if I were about to be the poor sucker who would have to look into those green eyes and convince that sharp old lady that I had good intentions towards her youngest and favorite child when I wasn't even sure what my intentions were. I knew they were good, I certainly didn't intend to hurt Danny, but beyond that, I couldn't say what they were.

"Danny, I don't know if I want to come in today," I said, as I leaned against the Corvette and admired Danny's ass as he bent over to get the empty cake carriers out of the small area behind the sports car's front seats.

"Why the fuck not? We're here already. I promised my mother you would be here with me.". Danny straightened so fast in turning to look at me, he banged his head on the car roof.

"Double fuck!" Danny dropped the carriers.

I couldn't help laughing at the expression on his face. I reached over and pulled him close so I could check his head for bleeding.

"How's your head? You didn't hit it hard enough to cause another concussion, did you?"

"No, I'm just annoyed, would you pick those up, please, since you found it so funny? And then explain why you don't want to have dinner here. After what I went through for you yesterday....."

Danny didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to, I was already wincing. Debbie's dinner had been more in the nature of an ambush than a pleasant family get togetherr. I bent over and picked up the carriers to stall for time as much as to placate him. I caught him staring at my ass as I straightened up and he gave me a cocky smirk as he leaned back against the car and crossed his long legs. He was wearing a pair of low cut dark blue D&G jeans and a tight maroon knit t-shirt under an open white silk shirt. There were no signs of the day before's upset, or even of his lack of sleep in his clear eyes and relaxed stance. He looked damn good, in fact. Even now, he had recovered from his bump on the head and was looking at me with a knowingly amused gaze. I smiled back at him.

"Uh, Danny, in what capacity am I here today?" The dimples deepened as the smirk grew.

"Whatever do you mean, Brian? You always came to these dinners in the past, when you were friends with Joey and Jamie. Now you're my friend, is there a problem?"

The brat raised his eyebrows at me, as he sucked in his lower lip and teased it with his top teeth. I growled at him and pulled him into my arms, dropping those damn carriers again first, in order to give him a deep kiss. I held him tight, pressing him back against the car, grinding my groin against his, wrapping my hand in his hair to keep his head trapped beneath my mouth. I felt his chuckle start low in his chest where it was pressed firmly against mine before I actually heard it, and his left arm moved around my waist to hold me even tighter against him. I moved my mouth to his neck, to give us both a chance to breath, and his delighted chuckling was able to escape, as I continued to work on the sensitive area under his ear.

"Can‘t you two get a room?" The familiar voice dripped sarcasm, but without malice.

"No, don't stop them, I want to watch, look how hot they are," added another more familiar voice.

"Go away," Danny called over in his husky voice. I was giving serious thought to ignoring them. As it was, if it were anyone but those two, I would have been unable to move away from Danny due to the huge boner I was sporting. But with Daphne, I figured it didn't matter, after all this time, she's been the cause of more coitus interruptus in my life than the Pope in Dublin. And Jamie was incapable of being embarrassed or for that matter, of embarrassing me.

I looked down at the lust glazed eyes in front of me. He smiled ruefully back at me.

"Should we stop, or get a room?" I asked him. "Or go in with those two." My other question hung in the air still unanswered, and I knew Danny hadn't forgotten it. He spoke low, his words intended for my ears only.

"You're invited as my friend and I made that clear to Mama, is that what you wanted to hear? Nothing more, so there's no need for you to get so nervous, you won't get the third degree."

Standing there, looking down into his handsome face, I suddenly felt disappointed.

Jamie and Daphne were at our sides.

"So, you coming into the backyard? Mary Pat said they were setting up back there today since the weather was so nice. " Jamie was looking at us curiously.

"Yeah, in a minute," I told him, "we'll see you two in there." Danny had a bog smile on his face as he watched Daphne and Jamie heading in, the small girl teasing his brother the whole time.

"She doesn't know about the whole significance of coming here with him today so don't tell her and make her nervous, Bri, okay? This is the first time Jamie has ever brought a girl he's been seeing and everyone is on orders from Mama to behave and not tease him in front of her. Of course, after today, he's open game." The dimples flashed.

"And how about you, little brother, have you ever brought anyone home to meet Mama?" I still held him loosely in my arms; watching the faraway look in his eyes as he watched Jamie and Daphne pass from sight. We were parked in a rather secluded area around the side of the house and most of the family had already arrived from the looks of the cars and the sounds coming from the back of the house.

"I'm gay, Brian, I thought you knew that," Danny gave me a one sided grin.. It gave me a pang to hear Danny making a comment that indicated he adopted one of my own more cynical beliefs.

"And so that means you can't have a special person in your life?"

"No, but it doesn't lead to the type of permanent relationship that one brings home to meet your mother. Or at least it hasn't thus far. Come on, let's go in and give Daphne our silent support."

"Danny."

"What?"

"You know you don't believe that, what's wrong? I'm sorry I froze for a minute, it was just the idea of going in and ...."

"Announcing to a yard full of O'Keefes that we are seeing each other was pretty daunting, I understand completely, which was why I told Mama not to make a big deal out of it if you came with me today, okay? I don't know what else you want me to do, so if you want to leave, that's fine, I just don't want to discuss it anymore."

He started to storm off. It took my fastest reflexes to catch him before he got away and yank him back. The soccer must be improving them or he was more tired than he looked from a night spent dancing in his studio instead of sleeping. This was twice I was able to catch him in a drama queen moment. He wrenched his arm free but stood a few feet away glaring.

"You know, if it weren't for moments like this, I could almost forget you're queer."

He cocked his eyebrow at me.

"We fucked twice this morning and I'm pretty sure I went down on you after the soccer game and it's my temper that tells you I'm gay? That's fucked, Brian. My temper is Irish, thank you very much, it's my sex life that's queer."

"No, you get mad at the slightest little thing. Your brothers were just as Irish and they never got mad and stomped off on me, they would stay and slug it out. You get all hissy like Emmett and Michael and ..." The green eyes were snapping now as he interrupted me.

"I do not get hissy." Good, he was about one minute from laughing at himself if I knew Danny.

"I do not get hissy," I mimicked his words, but in a high falsetto, smirking as he bit his lip and took a step closer. I watched as he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He looked really hot like this; I was playing with fire and enjoying every second. He was either going to slug me or burst out laughing and kiss me, if I knew Danny. I raised my eyebrow, waiting. He pushed his hair back and growled at me, finally, after regaining some control:

"I sound nothing like that so if you can't mimic someone properly you should

"Yes, you do, I simply ask what you intentions are toward me and you tell me I can go home. You're as hormonal as a girl so I showing you what you sound like."

"Kinney, I'm one step away from kicking your sorry ass," he threatened, taking a step towards me, but with his mouth twitching upward, revealing that he was about to lose it.

"With one arm? Does that mean you're going to hold me up against a wall and then kick the wall like you did at Babylon with that guy? Because if so, your mama is going to be one pissed off little lady if you kick a hole in the side of her house, although given that it's brick, even you may have trouble with that, so..." Bingo. He was laughing by this point.

"Oh, do you remember how that guy Brandon looked, just hanging there? He was so sure I was going to kill him that he was begging you for help. I was afraid it was piss I would be needing to get off my boots and not blood! Now what were we fighting about?" He came back and laid his head down on my chest. I wrapped my arms tight around him as I rubbed my cheek on his hair.

"I was an asshole and you got mad at me for it, justifiably, but now I'm done and we're going to have a good time. And I think I would like to have a little talk with your mother about how much I care about her youngest child." I held him close.

"Brian, that isn't necessary." He pulled back to look at me, green eyes narrowed. I swear he could see right through me with that stare.

"Shh, it's between Mama Rose and me, you're just the child. I'm not sure where this is going, but I know that I care about you and I don't want you having any doubts about that, do you understand? And if I'm not right for you, who better to sort that out than Mama Rose?"

"But, I didn't get upset because..." I put my hand over his mouth.

"There's really no pleasing you today, is there? First you want to talk, then you don't, now you do." I laughed at him as he tried to talk around my hand. Once he got his other arm out of the cast I would lose all advantage over him, I would have to brush up on holds from wrestling or something. Life with Danny wasn't boring, but it was a hell of a lot more fun than I was having a few months ago.

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

This was not fun. Mama Rose had been sitting next to me on the back porch, quietly knitting while her family pursued various activities on the lawn in front of her. I actually felt sweat dripping down the back of my neck even though the evening had grown cool as I squirmed under her piercing questions. None of the questions were unfair; they were, brutally so, it was just that the woman seemed to know everything you ever did, and I mean everything.

Daphne had of course sailed through her inquisition with flying colors. I was surprised to see that Mama Rose had allowed Danny to sit at her feet while she had her little talk with Daphne; one of the "rules" was that the person who brought the "victim" had to make themself scarce, and Jamie followed this, but Danny had walked over and plopped himself right down after taking Daph over to chat with his mother. I watched from a short distance and I got the impression he smoothly intervened whenever his mother got a bit too inquisitive for the tastes of a modern young woman like Daphne. If anyone knew how to work Mama Rose it was Danny.

For all the rough teasing that went on between Jamie and Danny, I knew that the two of them were really tight, and if Jamie's heart was set on winning Daphne, and getting him mother's blessing, Danny would do everything in his power to foster that. The fact that it took only three weeks for Jamie to make up his mind didn't surprise me. Joey had been quite a playboy too, but when he met his wife, he fell hard at first sight, pretty much as Jamie did once he really took the time to pay attention to Daphne.

The oldest brother Matt had been the same way, Danny told me. Love at first sight in college. He never recovered from losing his wife Julia to breast cancer a few years ago, and the family believed his heart attack stemmed from a broken heart. Certainly it changed the boisterous, outgoing man I'd known into a quiet, reserved person who rarely laughed. I remember being surprised upon meeting his wife that she didn't meet the usual O'Keefe family mold. Matt, the most Irish of all the brothers, and the spitting image of their father, had chosen for his bride a first generation Italian America girl, Julia, who was all of five feet tall, with rich brown hair and olive skin. Patrick reportedly threw fits over that, until Julia sat down with Rose and the two tiny women had a chat that the sisters claim lasted three hours. After it was over, Rose walked over to her towering husband and son and insisted that she wouldn't hear of Matt marrying anyone but the lovely girl she had just put through the ringer. It was then that the tradition was born. Julia would never say what they talked about, but she did say nothing her Italian father and four brothers put Matt through could ever compare.

For all her sweet little old lady routine, Mama Rose was a lioness when it came to her children, especially her boys, and particularly her two youngest ones. From the comments I'd heard over the past couple of weeks at the soccer games, no one was surprised that neither of her favorites had ever felt the need to marry. Today, Mary Kate had told me that their father had even said, more than once, when annoyed by Danny's stubbornness, that it was his mother's influence that made him gay.

"He didn't really believe such a ridiculous idea, did he?" I asked, staring at the cool brunette, as she sipped from a glass of wine and watched her tall sons and daughters play a game of softball with their cousins.

"Not really, not most of the time. But you have to understand, Brian, my father was old fashioned, and staunchly Roman Catholic most of his life. He loved my mother dearly, he loved his God, and then he loved his children, in that order. At least, I think we came ahead of football, excuse me, soccer. It was all very confusing to him to find out all in one day that his youngest was one of those ‘fairy' boys, and that he was expected to accept it, and not only that, but that he was losing the Church over it and becoming a Protestant. That may not seem a big deal to an American but it was a very big deal to a man born and raised in Ireland. You do know that Matt, Mark, Mary Beth and I were born in Ireland?"

I nodded. She looked at me intently.

"The story always focuses on Mama, and Danny, how much she loved Danny that she accepted his homosexuality and fought the Church for him and then brought the whole clan to the Episcopal Church, where, don't get me wrong, we've all been happy. But, there's another part to the story, and that is how much Dad loved Mama that he agreed to it. The unspoken part is how much he resented Danny for making him have to choose. His wife over his faith. And also, deep down, I think my father was afraid that if he'd said no, my mother would have chosen Danny over him. Not that Danny ever asked her to, but it was a terrible burden for him to bear at his age, along with everything else."

"But I thought Danny worked it out with your Dad? He went to the school your dad wanted, shit, he was All American at soccer." I couldn't believe that Danny's father never accepted him, that there was some deep-seated resentment. The O'Keefes were the perfect family and I didn't like hearing it was a facade, that Danny had dealt with the same rejection that I had. I wanted to believe it was possible to have two loving parents who didn't mind you being gay.

"The rest of us all went to the school my Dad wanted as a matter of course, except for Angel, but she was a rule unto herself; it was only Danny who was going to go to the school he wanted in the first place with Mama's blessing. My father would never have allowed him to apply to Julliard, that was all Mama, so going to Penn State was a concession that, in Dad's eyes, merely proved that the two of them plotted against him."

"And the soccer scholarships, the All- American performance?" I was getting pissed off for Danny's sake.

"It was still the fairy son doing it, Brian. He would've much preferred it had been John or Jamie who had made All American, and the fact that Danny did and they didn't, bothered him more than it ever did them. He couldn't help being the way he was Brian, he didn't mean to hurt Danny, and poor Danny, he kept trying to be the son Dad wanted, to the extent he could, hell, he kept dating girls for the longest while, though God knows that was never going to work out. He finally got Dad to ask him to let that go because it was causing problems within the family. Something else Dad blamed him for, yet Danny didn't intend to cause trouble. I don't know why I'm telling you this, except ... if you're going to try being with Danny, you have to really be with him. Don't think he's had some perfect little life so it won't be such a big deal if you come into it and then drop out again. He's had very few dreams that haven't turned to dust in his hands and I think his one remaining one was finding the perfect guy to be with, and there was very little secret that when he was a kid, that guy was you. I'd hate to see him get his heart broken after all he's been through just because you're in the mood to play house for a few months." Mary Kate's eyes gaze looked over from the ball game finally and met mine. Her green eyes were so different from her youngest brother's, they were light green, and cold, where his were deepest green and alive with warmth, sparkling with laughter or snapping with anger but always fiercely alive. These eyes calculated life, where Danny's where the eyes of someone who dove in. I wondered what or who changed Mary Kate's eyes.

"Well, and I'm certainly heart warmed to know that my big sister is still butting into my affairs," Danny said quietly from behind us.

"Shit," Mary Kate muttered. We turned and saw Danny, eyes sparkling in the aforesaid angry manner, bouncing a baby on his left hip.

"Mary Katherine!" he exclaimed. "Is that anyway for a great-aunt to talk? Well, it is, since it's you we're talking about, but stop it or young Fiona here will be talking as foul mouthed as yourself. I have to go take a leak and can't hold her and pee at the same time, given my current one armed state, so would you take her please? She's Mark's grand-daughter, if you feel the need to give her back. I know you don't know who anyone belongs to besides your own, and even that's a stretch for you, non-maternal type that you are." He grinned at her to take the sting from his words, giving her a kiss on the forehead too.

Mary Kate gladly took the baby, relieved that Danny was apparently not going to say anything to her for interfering in his life; at least not for the moment. There was no telling how much he listened to, as he was able to walk quietly when he wanted to, and he wasn't wearing his boots today.

"Bri, I'll be ready to leave whenever you are, I just have to sing a few songs for Mama and then we can go, okay? Mary Pat is going to play guitar for me."

"I'm in no hurry," I told him.

"I am," he smiled, looking pointedly at his older sister.

While Danny went into the house to use the bathroom, I made my way over to Mama Rose, figuring I may as well get this over with once and for all.

Rose smiled as I came up, giving me the same kind of impish smile her granddaughter Briana favored. For that matter, it was one that Danny put on when he had something really devilish planned for me. Only Danny's kind of devilish was usually pretty fun. I couldn't keep back my own smile.

"I didn't think you would risk coming to sit and chat with me, Brian Kinney."

"And why was that, Mama Rose? You know I always like talking to you," I sat down on the chair next to her, which was a very uncomfortable wooden upright, as compared to her own cushioned rocker. She smiled again sweetly.

"I wasn't expecting you to put yourself in the hot seat, that is all, and risk having me put you to the blush when my sweet boy got me to promise to leave you alone today. Unlike that sweet girl Jamie brought today. I think she'll be a fine girl for him, don't you, able to handle him and yet make him happy. Do you like her?"

"I love Daphne, she's a wonderful girl, and I hope Jamie realizes what a lucky guy he'd be to win her love," I replied sincerely.

"She was so open and honest, and not afraid to say what she thinks. I like that in a person," Mama Rose said almost pensively.

Danny came back out of the house. He looked surprised to see me sitting with his mother. He came over.

"Mama, I'll sing for you now, what would you like?" His voice was quiet and almost nervous. I smiled up at him.

"Would you mind just warming up or whatever you singers do, Danny? I'm chatting with your Mama for a little bit and I know she doesn't want to miss your singing, nor do I, so maybe you can hold off?"

"Are you sure?" He cocked his head to the side.

"Why don't you sing to the babies, Angel, especially Fiona there, she's getting somewhat cranky. The mothers can bring them over to you and you can get them quieted for the night and then you can sing my favorites. And I don't know why you children act as though it's such a punishment for your friends to talk to me. Brian's known me for years so he can certainly stand a few minutes with me now, don't you think?"

Danny looked relieved, as though his mother and I were just talking over old times. Talk about your rocks and hard places. If I hadn't wanted to talk the "talk" with his mother, he would have been hurt, if I did, he would've felt nervous and worried. Yeah, just like me when I thought he didn't want me to talk to her.

"Well, Brian, I'm so glad to hear that you want to sit and chat because to tell you the truth, now that it seems that Danny and you are seeing each other, I would very much, if it wouldn't be too much of an impudence, like to ask you a few questions, just to clear up a few things I've heard."

"I'm happy to answer any questions you have, Mama Rose," I responded, patting her hand. After all, she lived clear on the other side of town from Liberty Avenue, and was retired from active PFLAG work, how much gossip could she still hear?

A lot, apparently. Forty-five minutes later, Danny was still singing to the rug rats, although there wasn't a munchkin in the place he hadn't soothed to sleep with his singing, and my shirt was dripping wet with sweat. There wasn't a bit of gossip about me since I left college that Rose O'Keefe hadn't heard . Ted Schmidt must have been calling her for the past ten years and giving her a daily briefing. And no story was too tawdry to pass this sweet little old lady's lips in inquiry.

"Now Brian, that boy you were sleeping with for several years, was he really a minor when you seduced him? And do you think that was right, at your age, to take advantage of his innocence and sweep him away with the glamor of your looks and sexual expertise if you didn't mean it to be anything more?" Dark curls tipped to one side as she looked at me, the picture of innocence.

And again, from more recent gossip, "Brian, why would you ever enter into a contest to see who could fuck the ten hottest men first? Wasn't that rather demeaning to the men involved? What if Danny were around then, he's certainly the hottest man around, I would think, so would you have involved him in your bet?" How the hell do you answer that one? No, Danny isn't hot? Yes, I would have involved him? I told her what I did do, and how pointless I found the whole endeavor, figuring all I could do was tell the truth, and if it didn't set me free, at least it wouldn't trip me up like lying would.

But so it went on. My one night stand record was brought out and examined. She didn't get too much into the Justin thing, for which I was thankful, but what she did get into didn't make me look all that great. The Brandon thing was the worst since it was one of the most recent and certainly the most shallow thing I'd done lately. I found myself agreeing that Danny certainly was hot and he would have been on anyone's hottest guy list. She had a way of pinning you down with that green gaze that made you realize that she was every bit as much the mother of that ice queen Mary Kate as she was of Danny. To her, it was an objective matter; she had a gay son, he was the hottest thing on two legs, and move on to the next question. If I weren't the one being scrutinized, it would've been funny.

It suddenly struck me, if I didn't pass muster, my "thing" with Danny, whatever the hell it was, was over before it fairly even had a chance to get started. I wished I'd listened to Danny and not jumped into this too soon, too unprepared. I wasn't sure of much, but I was sure that I didn't want to stop seeing him. I wasn't willing to test his affection for me against his respect for his mother if she gave me the thumbs down as someone to get involved with. Rose O'Keefe was no Jennifer Taylor; for that matter, she had earned her son's respect. Yet, even when Jen Taylor told me to get out of her son's life, I did. Different circumstances, yes, but I had a great deal of respect for mothers who cared that much for their sons' happiness, probably because I'd only known the flip side of the coin.

"Listen, Mama Rose, I know I've done a lot of shallow things in my time, and played around, and screwed around a lot. I'm trying to settle down more. There have been some major changes in my life, not all of my choice, such as my son's mother moving to Canada and taking him with her right when I decided I wanted to be a bigger part of his life. And my one attempt at a relationship ending right after I make the commitment to getting married. But, I can tell you that Danny is someone who is extremely important to me. Meeting him again several weeks ago made me realize how much I always was attracted to him, and these past weeks, getting to know him again, have been among the best weeks of my life. I don't know where this will lead, and I know I'm at a weird place emotionally, which makes me hesitant to jump into anything right now, but at no time in my life, even at my most selfish, inconsiderate stage, would I ever have deliberately hurt him. Nor would I ever treat him with a lack of respect, because he is my friend before anything else. And what scares me more than anything is that because of my past mistakes, I won't get the chance to find out what else there can be between us. I guess out of my own pride, and partially out of a concern for hurting Danny, I decided to have this talk with you, but I can see how there is no way you could give me your blessing as a fit person for your son right now, but would you please not give me the thumbs down, either? I would really like the chance to convince you that I could be the right person for Danny. I don't know if we have forever in us, but I do know that he makes me happy, and I think I make him happy. I would hate to see that end because of my failing today. I think he needs me right now and I know I need him."

I blinked back the stupid wetness that insisted on getting in my eyes, no doubt due to the smoke from the grills; they'd been left on to burn off the food debris from the day's cooking. I looked off into the trees, listening to the soft sound of Danny singing an Irish lullaby. I glanced over and couldn't help smiling at the sight of him cradling a dark haired infant on one shoulder while Briana snuggled up against his other.

"Do you love him?" The voice next to me, with its sweet Irish cadence, asked quietly. My mind raced.

Did I love Danny? Could one love someone after a few weeks? Of course, our history went back far longer, and these weeks together have been intense. Justin always insisted he loved me from the first night we spent together, but that wasn't love. It was sex. It grew into love for me. I suppose it did for him, too, but I was never really sure. The fact that he would never admit it wasn't love that first night always made me unsure of his love. Did I love Danny when I held him in my dormitory room over a decade ago and stroked his hair as he cried and I told him life would be okay even as a gay man. Did I love him more when I pushed him away a year later and turned down his kiss, a kiss I knew wouldn't stop there. Did I love him when I showed the strength to tell him to come back when he was grown up rather than take his virginity that night? Did I love him when I drove up to watch his soccer games at Penn State, not letting him know I was there, fading away into the crowd most of the time, but every once in a while taking him out for a beer, and listening to him chatter away a mile a minute, cheeks flushed with excitement as he went over every play? Or when I took him out and introduced him to the gay night life at eighteen and watched as he teased the older men, looking over their heads to see if I saw how wanted he was?

Was it love that made me feel like something in me that was stopped started up again when I saw him smiling at me from the piano the night of Daphne's birthday dinner? Was it love I felt when he confessed to waiting for me all those years and never letting anyone else inside him, and then as I moved over him and watched those beautiful green eyes looking up at me with such trust? Was it love that made me feel as though I'd been kicked in the stomach when I turned around from scoring that goal and saw him crumpled on the ground? Was it love that I felt watching him dance himself to exhaustion, and then leading him back to bed and holding him as he told me what happened to him all the years I left him alone "to grow up?" I know there are a lot of people to whom these answers come easily, but I'm not one of them. I still mistrust that word so much. I said it once to one person in the context of what is considered "romantic love," and look what happened. I was left alone. Yet, I had to say something to the old woman who was waiting patiently for an answer.

"I don't have a clue what love is, Mama Rose, but I know that I want to take care of Danny, and be with Danny, and make Danny happy."

"Take care of Danny, that would be a nice change for him, I'm thinking, he's been taking care of everyone around here for so long. And being with Danny, that seems to be what makes him happy, now doesn't it? So, you kill two birds with one stone, always a good thing. I don't see any reason why I should keep you from it, Brian. Just try to be patient with him, he isn't good about letting people take care of him, and he does need it, you know." She patted me on the hand and then gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Should we go rescue him from those children now so I can hear my songs? I'd dearly like to hear him sing some of my favorites." I helped her down the steps and she leaned on my right arm as we walked across the lawn to where the others were gathered. Mother and son must have exchanged a glance because suddenly his eyes met mine with the most intense look of happiness I'd ever seen.

After I found Mama Rose a seat right next to Danny, I settled down in the grass near Jamie and Daphne to listen. Briana surprised me by coming over and curling up in my lap. Daphne tucked a blanket around her and she was asleep before the next song was over.

"I think I'm jealous," Jamie whispered. "Briana chooses you over me?"

"She probably just smells Danny on him," Daphne commented.

"Eww, that's gross, even for you, Daph," I told her, punching her lightly.

"Not like that, you pig!" She punched me back, harder. "I just mean his cologne and all. Danny always smells good, whereas Jamie smells like a locker room," she retorted, eyes twinkling as Jamie started sniffing his armpits.

"Why do I put up with this abuse? There are women all over the city dying to smell me, I'll have you know," he told her, grinning.

"Dying at the smell of you, is more like it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Is there some rule that says you can't wash your jersey before the World Cup, Brian, because if that thing doesn't get washed soon, it will be able to play goal all on it's own."

"Shh, you two, I want to listen to Danny, not your constant bickering. Are you sure Mama Rose found you compatible?"

"What! Was that was that was about James Joshua O'Keefe? Why didn't you warn me? And compatible for what exactly?" The frantic questions would have continued if Jamie hadn't covered her mouth with his, distracting her quite effectively. I nodded for him to remove her from the area. With a grin, he replaced his mouth with his hand, and then just as easily picked her up and carried her, kicking him the whole time, into the house to have a little talk, much to the amusement of the family, especially as Danny switched to singing "Sabine Women" from "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." He was going to be so dead when Daph got hold of him, after she killed Jamie that is.

Soon enough, Danny had kissed his mother goodnight, and carried Briana up to her bed. Since she spent last night at his place as a treat, she was okay with spending tonight at her Grandmama Rose's, and knew that Aunt Mary Pat would take her to preschool in the morning. I was pretty impressed by how much Danny planned his schedule around Briana. I had never arranged my schedule to accommodate Gus's needs that much and I was his father. Of course, Danny was both father and mother to his orphaned niece, and managed fine, with the help from his family. But still, the main responsibility fell on him, and he shouldered it without complaint.

We walked out to the car in silence.

"Tired?" I asked, seeing the telltale way he rubbed his temples.

"Just a slight headache, singing this morning at church and then this evening after being in the sun all afternoon, wore me out. I guess it's a good thing I'm not playing soccer again yet, huh?" He grinned at me.

"Yeah, they'll have to put up with me for a while longer." I didn't bother telling him that I knew that they planned on keeping him out the rest of the season, even after his cast came off, to avoid the risk of another concussion. Let Matt and Jamie handle that argument. He was due to get another x-ray this week to see if his arm was healed, and then he had a week or two of therapy to build up the strength again.

"So, everything went okay, with Mama?" He looked over at me, a slight smile on his face.

"I have no clue, so how do you? You were singing and she just walked over and I didn't see any white clouds suddenly go out from over the grills or anything, so how did you know as soon as we walked over that everything was okay? That I got the Mama Rose stamp of approval?"

Danny laughed, his deep, resonant laugh that always went straight to my cock. This time it was me that got backed up against the car, and I didn't mind a bit as he took me in a hard, teeth grazing on tongue, kind of kiss.

"I think that's something I should keep to myself for now, but why don't we get back to my place and I'll show you my stamp of approval," he whispered into my ear in his best fuck me voice.

"You've got a deal."

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