Better Friends and Lovers

Chapter 3

(Setting: Daphne's Birthday Weekend; The Westin Hotel; POV/Daphne)

So, you want to tell me what's bothering you, or shall we pretend everything is okay and keep talking about medical school, the cute things Gus says on the phone, and what's new in the world of advertising?" I tried to look sternly at Brian over my wine glass, but it was difficult when he looked so damn handsome.

"Advertising, for three hundred, Alex." Brian replied quickly, giving me that devastating smile.

"Okay, there's something I always wanted to ask you." I grinned back at him. I could play this waiting game with the best of them. Brian would tell me when he was good and ready, or good and drunk. Either way, by the looks of how he was working through that second bottle of wine, one or the other would happen eventually. It was almost nine o'clock; the piano player would start soon. The waiter had told us he was really good and Brian had promised me dancing. I hoped he wouldn't get so drunk that he couldn't dance. But then, I've seen Brian consume vast amounts of intoxicants and I've never seen him incapacitated by them. I did retain some hope, however, that he would relax the guard on his tongue a little. Something had set him off yesterday and I suspected it had something to do with my "best friend."

"Shoot." He leaned back in his chair and gave me a lazy smile.

"Why is it that print ads and commercials always call something the 'best?' You almost never hear something called 'better' than another product? Like, our detergent is the best at whitening our clothes, our toothpaste is the best at beating tartar. What they don't say is, our toothpaste is better than so and so's toothpaste at whitening your teeth, unless of course they quote those same old nine out of ten dentists."

"There's actually a very good reason for that, Dr. Daphne, and it's a lucrative side line for doctors and dentists to get into, being one of those nine out of ten. We have to see about getting you into it when you graduate." Brian laughed at me, but then leaned forward, his wine forgotten. He really did love what he did.

"If you say your product is the best, you don't have to prove it, there can be a million 'best' fucking toothpastes. It's considered meaningless bragging, or basically, what the law calls 'puffing.' But if you say your product is 'better,' in an ad, you fucking better be able to prove it. So then...."

"So then, it's actually better to be better at something than best, when it comes to advertising?" I wrinkled my nose, trying to get a handle on this weird concept. God, the law was messed up!

"Well, no, I'm still the best there is at advertising, which is better than everyone else, but when it comes to what is being advertised, the product being described, that is, it's often better to go with what is described as 'better' than the million or so 'best' products." Brian smirked at me. "I learned that in business law back at Penn State, and one of my ads in a homework assignment called the client's car polish 'Better than all the Best. I got the top grade in the class. The Professor wrote on the presentation board that I was the only one who understood the concept. But there, you picked up on it merely by observation. Are you sure you want to be a doctor? They say the malpractice insurance here in Pennsylvania is killing you guys, maybe you should join Kinnetik?" Brian grinned at me; he was looking a lot more relaxed than he had when we sat down to dinner.

I grinned back. "Maybe I will. A girl always should have something to fall back on, and I hear you're a pussycat to work for."

He snorted at that. "Yeah, I bet a day spent with Cynthia left you with that impression."

"Brian..." I reached out my hand to cover his, looking him in the eye.

"Daphne...drop it. Please." He sucked in his bottom lip and gave me a steady look. "I just want to dance with you and flirt outrageously with you and have a really nice evening with my...my...." He paused, searching for the right word.

"Better friend?" I suggested, and cocked my eyebrow at him in my best Brian Kinney imitation. "Because that is what nine out of ten, young, kind of attractive, female medical students who've just had the best birthday of their lives instead of the worst, consider you, Brian Kinney."

"Make that 'fucking hot' instead of 'kind of' attractive,' and I will accept the term as suitable and return it, 'better friend,'" he replied, giving me a heart-breakingly gorgeous smile. The music started up and Brian stood. "This is my cue. May I have this dance, Ms. Chanders?"

"You may, Mr. Kinney."

The piano player was in another part of the room so we didn't see him at first. As usual, though, when Brian starts to dance, people start to clear a space for him; he is just that good. I now had two college semesters in ballroom dancing under my belt so I could hold my own with him. I needed six credits of Phys. Ed. and I figured dancing would come in a lot more useful in the post college life I envisioned for myself than basketball or field hockey. I was never much of a jock. Plus, after watching Brian and Justin at the prom, I really wanted to be able to dance like that. I hadn't had much opportunity to practice since then, but after a couple of minutes, it came back to me. Brian was just so good at it, it was easy to follow his lead. Plus, the piano player was wonderful. I tried to catch a glimpse of him but all I saw was dark curly, shoulder length hair, and glimpses of a strong, handsome profile. That was enough for me to decide he looked cute enough to get a closer look as soon as possible, which I teasingly mentioned to Brian when we went back to our table for a much needed break.

After playing several songs, the piano man noted that he was singing a request for one of the older couples whose anniversary it was, and his voice was gorgeous, a baritone with almost an Irish lilt to it. As soon as he realized the man took requests, and would sing, Brian whispered to our waiter briefly, slipping him a few twenties.

"Brian, you had better not be asking for Happy Birthday, or I will kill you right where you sit."

"Actually, that one didn't occur to me. Let me go get that waiter back." Brian teased. He stood up and pretended to drag me towards the grand piano; then he paused. "Well fuck me, is that who I think it is?"

"Who?" I asked, trying to peer over his shoulder, but of course, he is over a foot taller than me, so it was impossible.

Brian laughed, "someone I haven't seen for years. God, he was a kid then, looks all grown up now. Last I heard he was in New York, wonder what he's doing here?"

"Playing piano?" I suggested, earning a swat on the ass as the music stopped.

"Be good or there's more where that came from, smart ass."

"Promises, promises," I laughed at him, glad to see he was back to normal.

"Maybe we'll wait after all," Brian murmured, with a quiet smile. Totally mystified at this point, I let him lead me back to the table where he poured me more wine and sat staring over towards the piano with a faraway look in his eyes. We seemed to be waiting for something.

After a few moments, I heard the piano player say into his microphone,

"I have another request, and this one is a great pleasure to grant, coming from an old friend with fine musical taste and from what I could see earlier, even finer dancing skills. So for Mr. Brian Kinney, in honor of Daphne's birthday, here is "I Get a Kick out of You," from Cole Porter's "Anything Goes. " After which, for Brian, I think I'll do, ""You're the Top" from the same musical. Happy birthday, Daphne, you must be a very special girl."

The singer laughed and then swung right into the song, while Brian, I swear to God, blushed while the room clapped! I pulled him to his feet and he speedily recovered, grinning at me. Then, while the whole room watched, we danced, fantastically, if I do say so myself. Even the waiters stopped to watch. I was breathless by the time the two songs were finished, and the room erupted in tremendous applause. Brian smoothly bowed, I curtsied, and then we both bowed again, extending our hands to the piano man, just as though we were Ginger and Fred. It was amazing. Then Brian and the pianist walked to meet each other in the middle of the room, laughing and hugging.

"Brian Kinney! I cannae believe me eyes!"

"Little Danny O'Keefe! You must be shocked, you always did get so fucking Irish when you got excited."

"You should know, you got me that way often enough. But things have changed since I've last seen you." Danny looked at me meaningfully, smiling an absolutely beautiful dimpled smile, shaking back that long black hair. His eyes were deep, deep green, with high cheebones and a slightly cleft chin, standing about six feet tall, strongly muscled, but leanly built, broad-shouldered and narrow hipped; he was one of the best looking men I have ever seen. No way he wasn't gay, I thought with a sigh.

"This is Daphne, my 'better' friend," Brian laughed. "And bite your tongue or whatever you should bite for what you seem to be suggesting, I'm still gay. The rest of this catching up should probably wait until your break, if you get such a thing."

"Not until one, except for short, ten minute breaks, just enough time to run to the john and get fresh water, but if you're still here then, I'm all yours. Both of yours." That dimpled smile included me. He hugged Brian again, and then me too. God, he was muscular beneath that tux. "I don't need to ask for your requests, Bri, any old show tune will do. Is there anything you would like to hear, Daphne?"

"Don't be afraid to stump him, Daph, Danny knows every song ever written."

"Not quite," he grinned, "but working on it. Keeps me out of trouble. And no sense asking for "Memories," one of the old darlin's is bound to ask for it anyway, they always do." He sighed dramatically.

"Mmm, put on the spot here, by two obvious connoisseurs, you wouldn't happen to know 'Meadowlark,' from "The Baker's Wife," would you?"

"Oh my God, Brian, I'm in love! Beautiful and taste! Will you marry me sweetheart?"

"Get out of here, you're gay and she's mine." Brian pushed him back towards the piano and he sauntered away laughing, over to the grand piano where a couple of little old ladies awaited him. He politely bent down to hear them as they giggled their request. Within a few minutes we heard the opening notes of the song from "Cats." Brian laughed and I couldn't help but giggle as my eyes met his.

We went back to our table where a bottle of champagne awaited us. Compliments of the hotel, our waiter told us, for such fine dancing. I giggled again. "Maybe we can both leave our chosen careers and head off for the footlights?"

"I don't know, can fag and hag survive on champagne alone?" Brian looked at me, and then we answered in unison: "Fuck yeah!"

"Okay, before we dance again, Fred, and before he gets to 'Meadowlark' and I make you shut up so I can listen and swoon, talk. Who is he and why haven't we seen him before in Gayopolis, otherwise known as Liberty Avenue?" I took a sip of the champagne and then leaned back to give Brian my best, "this is Daphne and I'm not going to put up with any bullshit answers" look.

"Cliff Notes version. Kid brother of college roommate, slash soccer teammate, Joe O'Keefe. I mean he is really the kid brother; Danny is the youngest of twelve, the seventh son. I think he should be about 27, 28 now. I met him when he was, oh, 12? He kind of looked up to me, came out to me when he was 15, I kind of helped him come out to the family when he was 16, last saw him when he was 18, after his first year in college where he went to be a music major and soccer player. He was the last of the O'Keefe dynasty at Penn State. End of story." Brian looked at me steadily. Something told me there was more to the story than that, but he wasn't going to tell it.

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

(Flashback: Setting: Campus of Penn State University: Fourteen years earlier; POV/Brian, Third Person narrative)

Fucking little brother weekend, again. Brian threw his bag down. Once again, the dorm would be crawling with little kids, not to mention the showers, the halls, the libraries, the cafeterias and his fucking room. At least Joe's kid brother was decent, and knew when to keep his mouth shut. Must be a side effect of growing with six older brothers, not to mention five older sisters, you knew how to make yourself scarce when you weren't wanted. It certainly was a side effect of growing up with Jack Kinney. Maybe it was a function of growing up Irish?

"I see that you're in one of your sweet Kinney moods again?" Joey O'Keefe grinned at him. Damn O'Keefes were always happy. Older brother John had been one of their roommates until he graduated a year ago. He used to tease Brian mercilessly whenever the younger man had been in a bad mood. He'd been one of their soccer teammates too. Before him, three other O'Keefes had played for Penn State. Joey's brother James would be coming next year, as he was a high school senior now and yet another soccer star. Danny, the youngest and only a Sophomore, was already on the varsity team back home in the Pitts, despite being a bit on the small side for an O'Keefe. He practiced with them when he came to visit and Brian privately thought he was going to be the best of the brothers, if he got a little bigger and stronger. Other players tended to knock him around a bit.

Danny preferred music and dancing to sports, however, and was gifted in the arts, including acting. In addition to thinking he was the best soccer player, Brian had a few other private opinions about the youngest O'Keefe that he hadn't shared with his pal Joey; he was pretty sure Danny differed from his burly brothers in more than his preference for trying out for the school play than the school soccer team. But far be it from him to break it to the staunchly Catholic O'Keefes that their Danny Boy was gay; he didn't think the boy realized it himself. And to their credit, neither John, now in law school, nor Joey, nor any of the other many O'Keefes he had met on his visits to their home or during their visits to the campus for one of the games had ever treated his homosexuality as an issue. As far as they were concerned, he was a great soccer player, and Brian wasn't completely sure sports didn't come ahead of God, for the male O'Keefes at least. His sexuality didn't upset the parents, either, who were relieved they didn't have to guard their pretty daughters from a predator like him, while the girls' reaction was merely disappointment. They were candid in expressing their chagrin that their brothers' good-looking roommate had no more interest in them than another brother.

"Fuck off, Joey. It's like a damn kindergarten out there. How am I supposed to take a shower with kids everywhere?"

"With your boxers on?" Joey asked, tongue in cheek. "What's the problem? It's no different than Saturday morning at the O'Keefe house from what I can see. What do you think, Danny?"

Danny grinned. "You cannae expect Brian ta be used ta the way we live, he's not lace curtain Irish, he's second generation, he is, they dress their younguns, I hear tell."

"And why the hell does Danny have an Irish accent? I know your parents came over on the boat with the first couple of kids, but the last time I listened to anything you and your other brothers said, I didn't hear an accent." Brian glared from his position leaning against the doorframe.

"Aw, the kid's a momma's boy, what do you expect? He's bound to pick up her speech. Plus, you make him nervous; it always comes out more then." Joey laughed at his brother, causing the kid to flush red.

"I am not a momma's boy and I do not get nervous, asshole!" Danny jumped on Joey, trying to pin him down. Brian laughed. Then, seeing that Joey, who had Danny by about five inches and eighty pounds was easily besting the kid, he decided to join the fray. He plucked the smaller boy up and moved him aside before easily pinning Joey's arms behind his back. He grinned over at Danny.

"Come on, kiddo, here's your chance to even the score, I'll hold him for you."

"Do it and you're dead, Danny boy," Joey threatened, laughing, straining in vain to pull free from Brian.

"I hate when you call me that!" Danny spat out, no trace of his dimpled smile. He turned and flopped down on one of the beds, face down on the pillow. The two older boys looked at each other, perplexed. Joey lifted his shoulders, in question and Brian nodded toward the door, indicating the other man should leave. Danny had always talked to him before and Brian had an inkling that what was bothering the sensitive teen was not something his well-meaning but somewhat dense brother could help him with. The door closed loudly.

"It's just you and me, kid." Brian sat down on the other bed and pulled off his shoes and socks. Man, he needed that shower. "What's up? You know better than to take anything your stupid brother says seriously."

"I know. I'm sorry. You must really feel like you're surrounded by babies now."

Oh fuck, was he crying? Brian let out a breath in a soft huff. Okay, pretend this is Mikey. Brian thought back to when Mikey was this young and just figuring out that he was gay. He then tried to imagine what it would have been like for Mikey if he hadn't had Debbie or Uncle Vic to help him. No Brian to look out for him. Well, Danny didn't have Debbie or Vic, so that left just Brian. The stray thought occurred to him that Danny was a hell of a lot cuter than Mikey had ever been at fifteen, but it was quickly suppressed. This was Danny, for fuck's sake, his buddy's little brother. Brian was not going to let his thoughts even go there. He was not attracted to kids, certainly not high school kids!

"No, I don't think I'm surrounded by babies. At the moment, I think I'm in the room with a friend who is bothered by something but who won't tell me what it is so I can try to help him. Want to give me a clue here?" Brian tried to be as patient as he could, which in his case, wasn't much.

"How did you know you were gay?" The whisper was so low, Brian could barely hear it. It helped that he was expecting the question.

"I don't know that there was this bolt of lightening moment. At first, I kind of suspected it because I found myself more interested in looking at guys, turned on by guys, and not at all interested in girls like the other boys were, although I pretended to be. In fact, I kind of was in denial about it for a time. I tested myself, tried doing things with girls, you know what I mean...?" The boy on the other bed stayed perfectly still. Brian wasn't sure he was even breathing.

"But bit by bit, pretty much by the time I was fourteen or fifteen, I was pretty sure I was gay, no more doubts. Of course, my best friend's uncle was gay, so once I met him, I had him to go to and ask questions, find the answers I needed. I wish I had gone to him sooner than I did, might have saved me from making some stupid mistakes."

"Like what?" The voice was still quiet, but not quite a whisper anymore.

"Like what kind of questions or what kind of mistakes?" Brian teased. He slid down to the floor and leaned back against the bed, stretching his arms out, his long legs reaching out to the other bed; he kicked Danny lightly. The younger boy looked up, dark curly hair falling over his green eyes, his almost pretty face marked with tears.

"You've known." He didn't say it accusingly so much as sadly.

"Yeah," Brian agreed softly. "After a while, you kind of learn to recognize each other, it's kind of a safety mechanism, good old gaydar, you need to develop it, saves you from approaching the wrong asshole, literally and figuratively." Brian tried grinning at the other boy but there was no return smile. Instead, Danny rubbed his face hard, removing all trace of the tears. He took a deep breath. "I'm scared," he confessed.

"I know that, too. Come here." Brian indicated the area next to him on the floor and Danny scooted off the bed. The older boy enveloped the smaller one in a fierce hug.

"What are you going to do?" Brian asked after a few moments. He still held him loosely.

"Nothing. I have to think about this for a bit." Danny pulled back, looking at him with the most serious face Brian had ever seen on an O'Keefe. They all bore a remarkable resemblance to each other and in his experience, O'Keefe faces did happy, angry, drunk, maudlin, sad, excited: a whole myriad of emotions. He had yet to see such an intensely thoughtful expression on those familiar features.

"And?" Brian prodded him a bit. "You know it won't go away. You think you might just stay in the closet, not tell them? That will be hard in a family like yours."

"No, I'm not considering that to be an option, Brian Kinney. I just have to do some thinking and weigh my arguments." Danny's brogue was coming back. Brian remembered the complex O'Keefe system of arguing and bartering. Whenever one of them wanted something, they had to do serious negotiating to get it. There was no such thing as a favor in the O'Keefe house; you had to offer something to get something. Sometimes something as simple as borrowing cleats could run through five siblings before the transaction was complete, and when it was done, you found yourself babysitting the following Friday night for an older sister who didn't even own cleats.

"Want to give me a clue?"

"When I know what I'm doing, I'd like to. Would it be an imposition if I came to you with questions sometimes, to maybe avoid some of those mistakes you were not telling me about?" Danny looked up shyly.

"I hope you do, kiddo. In fact, promise me you will, okay? I'd kind of like to see you be around for a long time, you know? The thing is, this lifestyle, while I like it, can be bad about giving you a second chance if you fuck up, understand?" Brian looked at him intently.

"Got it."

"Okay, since I don't know when we'll have a chance to talk again, here's some things you need to know to protect yourself." And Brian gave Danny a frank lesson in Gay Sex Safety, 101, and what could happen if he didn't follow it, making the young Catholic School educated boy turn beet red.

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

(Setting: One Year Later, A bar on Penn State Campus; POV/ Third Person)

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Danny, how the hell could you be gay?"

Joey slammed his fist down and shouted across the table at his younger brother, who stayed outwardly calm, although Brian noted that his hands were clenching the edge of the table.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He turned and looked at Brian accusingly. Danny had asked for this meeting, and also that Jamie, who was a freshman that year, not be invited along. The latter was a simple matter to arrange since Jamie was out on a date with a different girl almost every night of the week. Talking him out of a "guy's night out" with his little brother was not difficult. Danny wanted to face his brothers one at a time, and figured that Joey would be the easiest one to handle.

Brian wasn't so sure.

"Calm down, Joey, you've got the whole place looking at us." Brian spoke softly, but sternly. "Don't make me knock some sense into your stupid Irish head."

"Danny, Brian didn't...."

"If you finish that sentence, Joey, I think it is meself that will have to hit you." Danny spoke quietly, but as sternly as Brian had a moment earlier. "I've already spoken to Dad and Mama, and I asked them not to call you so I could come up here and tell you meself. Look, you got me talking Irish and you know how that annoys Brian, so can we both please calm down?" Danny made a visible effort to calm himself, and smiled at his older brother; he glanced quickly over at Brian, trying to gauge his reaction to his brother's outburst, but he, as usual, was looking impassive, at least as far as outward appearances went.

On the inside, Brian was furious. He should have expected Joey to leap immediately to the classic breeder conclusion that every faggot was out recruiting schoolboys. It still hurt, although you wouldn't catch him showing it. Brave of the little fucker to stand up for him, though. Danny did not deserve this from the family he loved so much and whose love he expected to continue. Brian knew how carefully he had prepared for his "coming out," how much he was willing to sacrifice to win their support. Sometimes he thought he was better off having no such family love to lose. But, looking at Danny, and the love that still shone between the two brothers, he knew he would kill to have that for himself.

"Joey, I can't help being gay, it isn't going to change. Mama understands that and Dad, well, he's trying to understand it. They both love me anyway and I hope you still will too."

"Of course I love you, you little shit, I just can't believe it. You're the best soccer player in the family! After me," Joey groused. Then he pulled Danny off his chair to crush him in a bear hug.

"That's it?" Brian asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, right," Danny snorted. "And like you're better than me at soccer in this lifetime, Joey O'Keefe."

Joey just laughed. "So what's the deal, Danny boy! And Kinney, you better get another pitcher, I think I am going to need a lot of beer." Brian signaled the waitress, who obligingly brought over another pitcher, along with a lingering view of her ample cleavage as she sat it down on the table. Joey shook his head, disgusted, as Danny joined Brian in rolling his eyes. "Watch it, if she figures out you're gay, she might think twice about not carding you."

"Yeah, with those looks, trust me, that'll never happen. Nothing straight women like more than a fag," Brian informed him. "They'll be trying to convert him. He'll get offered more pussy than you ever dreamed of, Joey boy."

"Fuck. Maybe I should pretend?" he suggested, hopefully eying the waitress's boobs as she served the next table.

"Not with your lack of fashion sense, better stick to cheerleaders." Danny piped up, grinning. There was some truth to that, Joey's clothes looked like early Good Will, whereas the younger O'Keefe had already taken to mimicking Brian's style in casual wear.

"Fuck you, kiddo, get back to it, what did you have to offer up to Dad?"

"No way, you even have to barter in order to be gay?" Brian looked at both O'Keefes, sure they must have had a little too much to drink, although in all honesty, it took a lot to make most O'Keefes drunk, Joey being the exception to the rule. However, there hadn't been enough time or money spent yet tonight to make even him drunk.

"Of course, everything has a price, Brian, 'freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose,' didn't you know that?" Trust the singer to have a song quote for everything, and to his credit, there was only a tinge of bitterness in Danny's young voice. "Mind you, this is Dad; Mama didn't ask for anything. I'm to give up going to Julliard, did I tell you they were going to give me a full scholarship, early admission too?" Brian shook his head slowly.

The boy smiled brightly for a moment, then sobered. "Well, they were. But guess what? Julliard doesn't have a soccer team! Imagine that! Neither does the Curtis Institute, or Westminster, or pretty much any of the best music schools on the East Coast. However, if I go to Penn State, I can be the seventh O'Keefe to play soccer, I can major in music, and oh, I promised to do my best to be at least bi-sexual. Which means when I go home, I will go out with all the girls my sisters and sisters-in-law fix me up with, but while on my own, I can fuck guys."

"No way, awesome, they'll let you fuck before marriage? You're one hell of a negotiator, you little shit." Joey slapped him five, while Brian looked at him, appalled. Danny looked at back at Brian and shrugged sheepishly.

"You all fuck before marriage, asshole." Brian reminded him.

"Yeah, but the parents don't admit to knowing we do! We have to sneak around! Danny has permission. Wait, what about church? You're in the choir, kid, you're the substitute organist, for fuck's sake, what about that? I can't believe Father Xavier won't have something to say about this! Didn't Mama make you go to confession?"

Danny looked away.

"Leave the kid alone, Joey, I think he's shared enough for one night, don't you?" Brian intervened.

"No, I have to tell him this part. Mama will tell him anyway and it's my fault. We're not Catholic any more, Joey," Danny confided quietly.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what the Hell?" Joey started choking and Danny jumped up to pound him on the back.

"Let him choke," Brian suggested. "It will quiet the place down."

Joey glared at him. "I think you need to explain a little more, Danny. How are we not Catholic anymore? We fucking aren't Orangemen."

"We are if Mama says we are." Danny looked at him steadily. "I'm sorry, Joey, if it's that important to you, I guess you can stay Catholic. Talk to Mama, I'm sure you can work something out with her."

Joey paled. "No way. If Mama says we're Jewish, that's good enough for me. Uh, we're not, are we?"

Danny grinned. "No, we're Episcopalian now. You'll never know the difference, you're always half asleep anyway; and for Luke and Mary Catherine, it will be a good thing, they'll be able to take communion again."

Those two O'Keefes had gotten divorced so Brian figured the more liberal Protestant Church probably would be a better fit for them. This was quite a move; Brian was impressed. The O'Keefe patriarch supported his large brood by running three very successful pubs; at each of which collections were taken for the widows and orphans of the brave martyrs of the IRA. Of course, anyone who met her knew that the final authority in the O'Keefe home was not big Patrick O'Keefe, but tiny Rose Feeney O'Keefe, who stood all of 4'10."

"What happened?" Brian asked, since Joey was still stunned.

"Mama took me down to talk to Father Xavier, and he started in to talking about how I was going to burn in hell for all eternity. After a few minutes of that, Mama told him she had heard enough, and that clearly he was mistaken, and so was that Pope of his, since no O'Keefe boy, least of all her Danny, an angel if ever there was one, was going to burn in hell, not for being the way the good Lord made him. So, if he didn't have anything useful to say, she would be saying good-bye. And we left. We walked right down the street to that big Episcopal Church on Main and she asked the Priest there straight out what his church's views were on homosexuality."

"No way! Mama?"

"I think he recognized her, to tell you the truth, and I'm pretty damn sure he knew who I was from some interfaith meetings I'd sung at because his eyes lit up more than that high school soccer coach's at West Pitt the day Dad was looking at new schools for us when we were moving to the new neighborhood and Mama talked him into taking us out of Catholic school for High School, remember?"

"Why would that be?" Brian asked, fascinated as the two brothers started laughing at the memory.

"The little one here can not only sing, he can play organ, any organ. Do you have any idea how few people under the age of, what would you say, Danny, eighty, can play an organ, much less sing those boring songs a capella? It's easier to find a virgin in a sorority house." Joey sniggered. "That Priest must've thought he died and went to heaven."

"Not only that, Uncle Frank and Uncle Sean quit the Catholic Church too, bringing both their gangs over to St. Bart's. Mama was that mad. If those priests get a recruitment bonus, that guy's in clover. He was God blessing Mama all over the place. She was happy, too; when I left, they were planning fund-raisers galore. They'll have a new Church Hall built by next year."

"They'll need it to hold all of us O'Keefes." They laughed. Then they grew quiet.

The two brothers looked at each other.

"So you really are, I guess." Joey looked at his baby brother.

"Yeah, I am, Joseph." Green eyes looked at green eyes, while hazel ones looked on protectively.

"You gotta make All-State."

"Okay."

"At least twice."

"Deal." Danny swallowed convulsively. This, the meeting with the brother he instinctively sensed was the most open-minded, had been the one he'd been dreading the most, even with Brian there to help. If Joey didn't accept him, none of them would. Not the older ones who sw themselves as surrogate father figures, or the tough green beret, certainly, or the playboys, who lived to chase women. Fun loving Joey, whose best friend was gay was his best hope for understanding. Now the others would be easier simply because Joey would have his back, that was their way. He would tackle Jamie before he went home. Hopefully then it would be the three of them, and his parents before he had to take on the older ones. He glanced back up from his beer at Joey who was straightening up portentously, in the way of a man who was on his way to drunk.

"And you," Joey pointed at Brian.

"Yeah?" Brian cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Keep an eye out for him, will ya? Something tells me where he'll be hanging out, there won't be any O'Keefes to look over him like we usually do with the young ones. I know we don't have any bars in that end of town."

Danny held up a hand before Brian could nod in agreement. "Wait a sec, find out what he's offering first. Haven't you learned anything after living with these assholes all these years?"

"Little shit." Joey groused as Brian laughed. He was already coming up with some ideas.

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

(Westin Hotel, Dining Room, Saturday Night, much later;POV/Daphne)

The three of them were sitting at a table laughing, as the night staff cleaned around them.

"So what did Brian get Joey to do?" I asked Danny, propping my chin up on my hands, elbows on the table. God, I was there with what had to be the world's two most gorgeous men and not a chance of scoring with either of them. But I was having the best time of my life. Who says you need sex?

"Poor Joey, he was too drunk to negotiate well. I think he ended up doing Brian's laundry for the entire semester, and you so don't want to do a soccer player's laundry during the season." Danny laughed at Brian's expression, falling back in his chair and stretching out his arms as he did.

"Are you implying, brat, that there was ever a time that I smelled less than de-loverly?" Brian smirked.

"According to Joey, you deliberately saved it in the trunk of your car for two weeks at a stretch to improve upon your natural aroma."

"Lies, all of it lies."

Danny stretched again, raising his arms high over his head; several of the buttons on his white shirt had been undone as we talked and I could see a bare expanse of tanned, muscled chest and abdomen. Nice. He had gone to New York City after college and only returned full-time to the Pitts a few months ago to be closer to his widowed mother. For a while he had tried splitting his time but that was no longer working, although he didn't elaborate. Apparently he had done pretty well in New York, and in addition to performing in clubs, he was a composer and choreographer. During the usual catching up it came out that one of his brothers had died in Afghanistan, and a sister, the one who modeled in New York and whom Danny had lived with, had died too. He didn't say too much about that, either, but I gleaned that her death played a part in his return too. She left a daughter behind, for whom he and his mother were the guardians. He kept changing the subject away from his career, although Brian seemed to have a lot of knowledge about it, so I gleaned that he had followed it, something Danny seemed gratified to realize as well.

All in all, Danny seemed like a pretty great guy, handsome, successful, funny, sexy ... I looked over at Brian, who also was looking at the muscles in our companion's chest and stomach. Duh, Daphne, I thought.

"You know, Danny, we have this huge suite upstairs that is practically empty since the others went home today. It's late for you to head back now to your place, anyway. Why don't we move this party upstairs and have a snack or something. You must be starving."

"Ack, food at this hour, no way, but I wouldn't mind another drink. That is, if Brian doesn't mind...."

"Sure, come on up. I'm sure we can find something to tempt you," Brian agreed. I glanced over at him suspiciously, but he looked completely innocent. Of course, Brian is often most devious when he is looking innocent.

We rode up in the elevator, the two of them discussing which one of them was hotter and more likely to score with me if I were drunk enough to want to go to bed with either of them. God if they only knew, I thought, and almost giggled out loud. Once we arrived at the room, I excused myself to go "change into something more comfortable." I suggested Brian loan Danny some sweats and invited him to use the room Cynthia had vacated while Brian took Emmett's. On the way to my room, I happened to glance down and noticed the paper Brian had thrown down the day before, all flattened out. The cleaning staff must have thought it was important. It was then that a familiar face caught my eye. I quickly grabbed the paper and took it into my room closing the door behind me.

"Damn him!" I whispered in the privacy of the bathroom, turning on the Jacuzzi to make enough noise to the sound out my ranting. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

There in black and white in the Arts and Leisure section of the New York paper Brian had delivered to his office, Friday's edition, was a picture of "rising young artist, Justin Taylor, with his mentor and lover, entrepreneur, Edward Simon." And there was Justin, damn "sunshine" smile plastered all over his face, with this old guy wrapped all over him, standing in a gallery of some sort, both holding wine glasses as their picture was taken. I was so going to kill him. No wonder he couldn't make his "best friend's" birthday dinner, he was busy with his new boyfriend. You'd think he could at least let his former boyfriend, (no way was Brian the "old" one in this equation) know about the transition.

I made up my mind. I leaned out the bedroom door, in my nice fluffy white bathrobe; the two men were sitting on the sofa, holding drinks.

"Hey guys, I'm beginning to feel that champagne. I think I'm going to get a start on my beauty sleep. But Danny, breakfast tomorrow, okay?"

"Are you sure, I can head out...?" Danny stood up and looked hesitantly at Brian.

"I am really sure." I beamed my best smile at him. "Brian, make him stay, that's an order, and it's my birthday, you don't want me disappointed, do you?" I smiled sweetly.

"Your birthday's over, sweetheart, but for you, I'll do my best to give you an Irish breakfast." Brian leaned back, grinning his Cheshire cat grin.

Danny cocked his head. "Something tells me, I'm going to need to find me a replacement organist for Church services tomorrow," he sighed, grinning back.

"You can count on it, I would say," Brian responded, pulling him back down as I closed my door, mission accomplished.

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