For Love of Justin

One Way or The Other, I'm Gonna Get You

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The first week after the shooting was quiet. Brian canceled all of Justin’s training runs until he was completely recovered from the shooting. He ordered the other three to only run once a day, and to stay together, keeping together as a group. One of the police guards would accompany them on a bicycle. Justin was under strict orders to limit his activity to light stretches until he was cleared by his doctor. When he complained that he was going to go crazy not running at all, Brian had a top of the line treadmill delivered to Ellie’s house. He trusted Kelsey and Daphne to make sure Justin didn’t overdo it and exceed the very light running schedule he set. However, he underestimated the power of those big blue eyes, and when Justin pleaded for more than his allotted running time, it took Ellie boldly sashaying in, wearing purple lycra tights and a flowered headband, demanding her time on the fancy new toy to chase the blond from the room.

Daphne kept to her decision to be identified with her friends regardless of what George teasingly called her “undecided” orientation.” Mann and his fellow officers who were placed on guard duty for Justin and the other three on the basis that they were the team’s most visible “out” runners had taken to calling the group the “Four Musketeers.” While a few of the men weren’t quite sure what to expect when assigned to protect a group of gay athletes, what they found were four young people who quietly went about the business of training and recovering from the traumatic event, and who treated their escorts with friendly respect, even when the police officers quickly found that their fitness was not of a level that enabled them to keep up with even Kelsey and Daphne when running. Mann, always a realist, pointed out that if they were to do their jobs of protecting their charges, they couldn’t be laboring to breathe also, so he was the one who put in the requisition for ten speed bicycles similar to what Coach Bruckner used so they could accompany the runners on their long training runs. While the police department was still making up its mind on the request, Kinnetik made a gift of four bicycles; which Brian argued to Ted could always be used as a tax deduction...once Ted figured out how.

Meanwhile, the press conference had done its job. The University, as well as public opinion, was squarely behind Justin and the gay members of the team. For now, Mel cynically noted, when she called the two coaches and reported the good news. Even with all the positive news, it was a full week before they held another team practice. In the interim, Ben had encouraged the runners to do as much as they could–safely–to maintain conditioning, but neither man felt up to handling a group session until they could be sure they were ready for every possible contingency. Although neither man said it out loud, that included being able to resist the advances of two very attractive young male runners.

Both coaches had stuck to their planned retrenchment with the younger men, albeit with very different approaches. Ben mainly communicated with the runners by email or phone, and when he did stop by the house, he clung to Ellie’s side. He reminded her of a big Newfoundland puppy, she told the kids after one of his visits, and refused to leave him to their ploys out of pity for the big man. She respected that he had a very trying situation on his hands at home and if she hadn’t made up her own mind that he would be much better off without that selfish partner of his, she would have taken steps to nip George’s little seduction in the bud. Instead, she encouraged it, but advised patience while Ben got his head...and his current romantic life...together. Indeed, Ben was trying to confront his problems with Michael head-on, asking his partner if he would go to counseling with him, explaining that he was not happy with Michael’s insecurity, demands and blatant refusal to acknowledge that Ben had rights too. Needless to say, his method was unsuccessful and he found himself bombarded either by tears of remorse and promises of better behavior, or angry recriminations and accusations. He wasn’t sure which he hated more, he just knew he would give anything for some peace. He found himself thinking longingly of a face that always seemed to be smiling and a voice whose deeper tones never whined but instead seemed always to be laughing at life. Ben’s life wasn’t giving him much laughter, and he was beginning to wonder when he had started accepting that as the way things had to be.

Brian used his own form of conflict avoidance, brought on by his talk with Ben, as well as his own very real fear of commitment. Once he made sure Justin was safely ensconced in Ellie’s house with ample supplies of food and entertainment, as well as large policemen to protect him, he used his neglected work as an excuse to avoid blond temptation. His method was partially successful; he didn’t see Justin, but he didn’t get much work done either since he was thinking about him much more than he would have thought possible. After work, he tried the baths and the backrooms to distract him from thoughts of blue eyes looking up at him and soft blond hair brushing against his thighs. More often than not, however, he would find himself pushing away whatever no-talent mouth was working his cock and heading out on a long run instead.

During those runs, Brian tried to figure out how his life got out of control so quickly. From a simple agreement to help Ben with his running team over the summer, and one runner in particular, Brian felt like his whole life was slipping out of control. Unlike Ben, he liked his life the way it was. It was uncomplicated and well ordered. He had anonymous hard bodied attractive men for sex, as many of them as he wanted, and he had his loyal followers...well, friends, for companionship when he wanted something more substantial. He had his longtime friends in Mikey and Lindsay when he wanted to feel loved, and when he wanted someone he could actually talk to and enjoy, he had Cynthia and Ted, and more and more, he was finding that Ben was fitting the bill as someone with whom he liked to spend time and who didn’t cater to his whims.

So, where did the kid fit in? Brian’s runs got longer and faster as the answer to that question eluded him. He’d promised Justin he would be there for him and Brian always kept his promises. But what did “being there” for him mean? In all likelihood, the blond would be moving on in a year or two, anyway, on to bigger and better things when the Olympics came. Probably long before then, he’d attract the attention of one of the big name running coaches and offers would start flying in for him. All it would take would be one or two notable wins. Brian could get him there. He knew he could. He just had to cure the kid’s front running issues and there would be no stopping him. The last thing he’d need then would be his college coach hanging around. The best in the business would be lining up to coach him then, out in Oregon or Colorado.

Justin and George, having been forewarned by Kelsey, were pleasant and cheerful whenever Brian and Ben did check on them, as opposed to whiny or needy. If the older men wanted to keep the conversation focused on running, they acted as though they were content with that. No matter how much their youthful libidos were screaming for them to jump the men they were convinced they loved and belonged with, they followed the girls’ advice and kept their eyes on the big picture. Of course, they made sure they looked as good as possible in the meantime, and if they managed to be barely dressed every time Brian or Ben stopped by, well, that was just coincidence. Laundry happens, as Daphne pointed out to Officer Mann when he asked why George and Justin walked around in just boxers so often.

Officer Mann asked his grandmother if she thought it would be a good idea if he brought over some of his younger sibling's cast off clothes.

“Those poor kids have to do laundry every day, Grandma Ellie. I’m sure I could find some spare jeans and t-shirts around my folks’ place so they don’t have to walk around in just their underwear all the time...it’s summer now but it’ll be cold soon enough.”

“You’re a sweet boy, Timmy, but I think those boys are getting up to more than just their laundry.”

Notwithstanding their semi-nudity, the boys were very well behaved. Justin acted as though he wasn’t surprised or bothered by Brian’s attempts to return their relationship to a platonic stage. For his part, George merely acted as though what happened between him and Ben was part of his affectionate nature, and while he never denied wanting more, he continued to behave in his normal cheerful, affectionate way. Both young men, as well as their two female companions, were more than ready to listen to their coaches and accede to their instructions and any limitations placed on them during this period. The high degree of innocent cooperation that was being exhibited by the four students made cynical Brian suspicious, but for the long suffering Ben, it was like looking at manna in the wilderness–manna that he was determined not to touch. Ellie, Daphne and Kelsey kept popcorn on hand for the show, because, as Ellie noted, it was more fun than watching the soaps. She was shameless, the younger girls told her. Especially since she kept finding excuses to get Ben to take his shirt off and lift something heavy for her. Kelsey threatened to tell her grandson on her but she was outvoted by the other three, who pointed out that Ellie had been really good to them and maybe she really couldn’t make up her mind where she wanted the refrigerator? Who were they to make assumptions about her motives?
 

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Eventually it was deemed safe enough to start group practices again. The school security had done sweeps of the woods and perimeter and new, safe courses were marked. No new leads were found as far as determining who had shot Justin or who had sent the threatening letters, but it was felt that the only options now were to return to their old routine with greater vigilance and more security, or give into the shooter’s demands and quit altogether. The second option having been roundly rejected, they were doing everything they could to be ready on the first.

By prior agreement, Brian and Ben reached the practice track a half hour earlier than they normally did, which was well before practice was scheduled to start. They’d made sure that Officer Mann was the one on duty to bring their four students in for the afternoon practice as they trusted him the most after Carl.

“Are you ready?” Brian asked Ben, quietly even as his hazel eyes scanned the track and the woods beyond.

“Not at all. I’d like a few months more, please. A few months to wrap them all in cotton batting and keep them safe. Is that too much to ask?”

Brian gave a rueful half smile. “Seems to be, Professor. At least in this day and age. We’ve known for a couple of years now that kids aren’t safe in their high schools any more, so we have no reason to assume our runners are safe running here in the woods...and especially not our gay runners. But that doesn’t mean you and I aren’t going to do our fucking best to make sure nothing happens to them...any of them...on our watch.” He gave the bigger man a hip block to emphasize his point even as he wondered when he started thinking of these damned kids as something that belonged to him. He glanced at Ben to see if he’d caught his slip.

Ben was looking tensely over the same area Brian’s gaze has already traversed but he happened to glance down just as Brian was looking up at him anxiously. With one of those uncomfortable flashes of insight he was prone to, he raised an eyebrow and guessed, “Ah, just figured out that you give a damn about these kids, haven’t you? And it’s scaring you almost as much as the thought of another gunman lying in wait out in those woods.”

Brian scowled. Actually no, he thought to himself. It scared him a hell of a lot more. But he’d be damned if he’d tell Zen Ben that.

The runners started arriving within a few minutes of Ben and Brian, despite their being early. It was a good sign, Brian reasoned. They’d feared that some runners might stay away due to fear for their own safety, which would be a serious concern. Another reason, Melanie had pointed out, and a far worse one, since it really could not be addressed adequately, would be if some stayed away because they agreed with the shooter’s anti-gay agenda.

They’d deliberately kept the news of when practices were restarting out of the press to avoid having any picket lines. The hospital and some of the papers that publicized the hate mail were subjected to protesters from both sides of the issue the day after the news conference, although, as Debbie asked, how anyone could be on the side of shooting innocent young athletes was incredible. Yet, somehow, busloads of sign-toting, Bible-thumping, right-wing conservatives lined the local streets to shout down Debbie’s rainbow hued PFLAG brigades. While they might not believe a gay runner should be shot, they firmly believed that he shouldn’t be permitted to represent a school or worse, the country, next to fine, upstanding, straight athletes.

“It looks like we’re in the clear as far as keeping all the whackos away,” Ben commented.

“You really shouldn’t talk about your mother-in-law that way,” Brian quipped, tongue in cheek.

“Michael and I aren’t married,” the usually mild professor snapped back.
“Whoa, just kidding, don’t get your jock in a jumble. I know you aren’t married. I’m sure I would’ve been asked to be the best man, literally and figuratively, if you two cwazy kids had ever run away to Canada and tied the knot. Still, I call Deb mom, Emmett calls Deb mom, most of gay Pittsburgh calls Deb mom. Why should you be any different? I just added on the in-law part because of the sleeping with her son factor...it rather rules out you and Mikey being like brothers, which I count on as saving me from having to sleep with him and listen to that whining morning noon and night. I love the little guy but every friendship has its limits.”

“So does every relationship,” Ben muttered under his breath but when Brian looked at him sharply he was already moving away, jogging toward the cinder track where they would address the team.

The four musketeers were among the first to arrive for practice, along with their police escort. The girls nodded somberly to Brian and Ben and started right in with their routine warm-up stretches. George and Justin stripped out of their tank tops and started helping each other with leg stretches. Brian was busy answering some questions that another runner brought to him about a troublesome Achilles tendon, but he couldn’t help glancing over at the sight of the fair skinned, lithe blond being held by the tawny skinned, muscular redhead. He sucked in his lip and found himself stumbling a bit in his explanation to the injured sophomore runner, so he recommended he ice the ankle for a day and consult the team’s trainer to see if a medical follow-up was needed. Ben raised his eyebrow in surprise and Brian shrugged.

“Better safe than sorry,” he said, and blew on his whistle, mainly to stop George from groping Justin, and not because they’d had anywhere near their usual time for warming up. Ben didn’t seem to mind. He gave Brian an approving smile and noted, “Good idea, we can finish warming them up with some slow laps. Let’s get this started.”

George and Justin waited until the coaches turned away before slapping each other five. As they walked to the track with the rest of the runners, the girls joined them.

“Was that stretching or foreplay, you two?” Daphne hissed.

“Who says they’re mutually exclusive?” George smirked.

“Are you really sure this is such a good idea?” Justin asked, sneaking a sidelong glance at Brian. “Brian didn’t look too happy to see your hands all over me.”

“Well, if he had looked happy about it, then you would have something to be worried about,” Kelsey pointed out, sensibly. Normally she wouldn’t approve of this type of frivolous game playing in a relationship. Kelsey was a very serious young woman. But in this situation, she felt it distracted the others, especially Justin, from their bigger problems, such as whether anyone was going to shoot them. So, she encouraged their silliness, the boys in their flirtations and Daphne in exploration of her orientation identity crisis, while all the while, Kelsey watched–and worried. Would another of her friends be bleeding on the ground today? Would she?

“Okay team! Listen up! I’m going to call attendance, if you’re here, simply say so by shouting present, or here, whatever works for you as long as I hear you.” Ben’s clear voice rang out across the small field, as he called roll. The entire team, minus Hobbs, who was still on suspension pending his disciplinary hearing, was present. A good sign, Brian thought.

“Thank you for being on time. We’re going to return to our normal schedule now and keep to it, as far as we know now, until mid-August. There will be a break in mid-July for those runners who are chosen to represent the school in the European races, which we will discuss further in a couple of weeks. For now, let’s see who kept their conditioning up over the past week. You’re going to give me three miles on the track, timed quarter splits, Coach Kinney will give you your quarters as you pass him going into the last quarter of the easy warm up mile you’re going to give us first. You got that? One mile easy pace, let’s say eight or nine minutes from all of you, and on the last lap of that you get your split pace from Coach Kinney....okay hit the track....warm up miles first.”

The runners took off for the track running easily. Brian had set George and Justin up at matching paces that would be tough for George in the beginning but easier for him in the end, and the reverse for his front runner Justin. Daphne and Kelsey didn’t have as dramatically different styles, but also would benefit from forced practice at pacing, as would most of the other runners. It was just that none would benefit as much as Justin and George; the former was the classic front runner who ran out of steam before the end of the race and the latter was the kicker, who too often left his burst of speed until too late in the race, and thus failed to perform his best. By calculating the pace that would both force Justin to hold back something for the finish, and yet force George to push harder earlier, Brian would get a better overall race out of both runners...if they would comply with the split times given to them.

Justin ran his warm-up mile with Daphne as George kept pace with Kelsey.

“Hey, Daffy. You into these timed splits?” He looked at his friend nervously.

“Sure, they’re great. They help me pace when it comes to racing conditions, why?”

Justin shrugged. “I never do this stuff. I just run as fast as I can. Isn’t that kind of the point? Why would you train yourself to go slower than you can? It doesn’t make sense to me. It would be like me practicing to draw badly. It seems, I don’t know...counter-intuitive.”

“Oooo, big word.” Daphne reached over and punched him in the arm. Another runner glared at them as they passed, either their chatter or the effortlessness of their strides giving offense. Daphne rolled her eyes and Justin bit his lip to hold back his grin. Before Brian, he would have been the solitary runner pretending to be annoyed by anyone who didn’t take running as seriously as he did because he was lonely and envious of the others. The thought made him turn and flash a friendly, apologetic smile at the other runner, who gave a small smile in response. Feeling better, Justin turned back to Daphne just in time to realize that they were coming up to their last lap.

“Time to get my split times. So, I guess I’d better do them right this time, huh?”

“I should say so! You’d better or I’ll give your sorry excuse for a butt a whupping this time, you blond princess you!” She frowned at him warningly, only half teasing. Justin pulled ahead to catch up with George. He smiled brightly as his hand touched Brian’s to grab the scrap of paper that held his required split times for the practice laps. He swore he felt the same jolt of electricity he’d felt the first time he’d touched Brian’s hand, at that first practice they’d met.

Blue eyes met hazel once again. Justin was shocked at the sadness that seemed to lie just beneath the surface of those beautiful greenish eyes, with their flecks of brown and blue, even grey.

“Run well, today, Sunshine, keep to the plan.”

“Oh, I am, Brian, I am,” he promised the tall man. He just didn’t tell him all the plans he had for the two of them. Run with the pack for a few miles and save something for a kick at the end? If that was what Brian wanted him to do, well, Justin would grit his teeth and do it.

Brian Kinney was about to discover just how stubborn Justin could be.

George got his slip first but lagged enough so that he heard the exchange between Justin and Brian also. You go, Justin, he thought, with a grin. As Justin pulled even with him and stayed there, he figured out what “the plan” that the coaches devised was, and had to give the coaches credit, knowing that as much as this pace pressed him, it was undoubtedly equally challengingly to Justin, but in an opposite way, since he had trouble running this slowly for most of a race!. Of course, everyone knew how the story of the tortoise and the hare turned out, George comforted himself. As long as the Tortoise had enough time, of course. And a strong enough kick. Taking a deep breath, George dug deep to be able to keep up with the team’s front runner. Running fast and hard the whole race wasn’t his style, but if that’s what Ben wanted, then he would do it, because being tenacious and hanging on against the odds, now that was something he did well.

Coach Bruckner was about to discover just how stubborn George could be.

One way, or the other, they were going to get their men. Justin and George completed the last split in perfect unison, in accordance with the time they were given, and without saying a word to the two coaches and barely a glance at each other, went into another lap at full speed. Brian quickly hit his stopwatch to time them as they ran the quarter mile neck and neck.

Ben walked over to Brian as they finished, racing flat out, to applause from the teammates who, for the most part, were just finishing their splits. Brian called over, “do a cool down and then I’ll tell you your times, you hotdogs.”

“Well, how did they do?” Ben asked as soon as he got close to Brian.

“One or both of us better start thinking now about Europe, my friend. Those two just came damn close to the record for the quarter mile...and they were just fucking around! Can you imagine if they were serious?”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” Brian’s grin was a mile wide. “If you added together their splits and that last laps, you’d have close to a world class five thousand...and they actually ran more than five thousand meters. So, think about it. They ran three and a quarter and the five thousand is three point one.”

“Damn.” Ben looked stunned. “The two girls did great too. Along with a handful of the others, but overall, the real standouts on the team just happen to be...”

“The four musketeers,” Brian finished the sentence for him. “So, along with maybe Pilcher and one or two others, the elite team worth taking to Europe plays for our team...oh, I can’t wait until the press finds that out.”

“Forget the press, wait until Michael finds out.”

All humor left Brian’s face. “You really know how to ruin a mood, Professor.”

At that, the two men were interrupted by the sound of a cough. Turning, they were relieved to find Kelsey waiting patiently.

“We’re all done our splits, sirs. I’ve had the team complete cool-down laps. Do you want to continue with timed splits or do you have something else scheduled for today?”

The tall brunette looked at them innocently. Brian and Ben let down their guards around her. Unlike with George and Justin, Kelsey was determined that Brian and Ben would remain forever ignorant of exactly how stubborn and manipulative she could be. As she told Daphne, it was much better to let men underestimate you. It was easier to fool them that way.

After she subtly convinced the two coaches to end practice early, Kelsey found out where they planned to meet to discuss “the situation further.” After listening to the post practice pep talk, Kelsey was most energetic in waving goodbye to their coaches. As she rejoined her housemates, Kelsey gave them and Officer Mann, a big smile and suggested they hurry up and shower back at the house.

“Why, it isn’t like we have anything worth doing tonight,” Justin said glumly. He’d really hoped Brian would have suggested getting together now that things were practically back to normal. At least he was running again and Justin had even followed orders during practice, which was what Brian had wanted, wasn’t it? He knew he’d run fast with George pushing him to run faster at the end like that. It felt slow in the beginning but it was amazing how much speed he was able to pour on at the end. His time for that last lap rivaled his best ever. So, maybe there was something to be said for this pacing stuff. He still didn’t like running in a crowd but running with George wasn’t so bad. He glanced at his friend, who was giving Kelsey a funny look.

“You’re up to something," the redhead accused, teasingly.

“Moi? I am never ‘up’ to something. I may plot, or engage in sound strategies, but I never get ‘up’ to something,” Kelsey said haughtily.

Daphne giggled. “You’re right. She’s definitely up to something. She always gets all Queen E on us when she’s up to something. Spill, Kels, what is it?”

“Hey, just because a certain two attractive gay coaches of our acquaintance are going to be in a known gay establishment called Woody’s later this afternoon, and I happen to have talked Officer Carey, the officer on duty next, into driving us down there in about an hour....”

“Carey, which guy is he?” Justin asked, looking perplexed.

“The one with the boobs,” George said, dodging the expected punch from Kelsey, which, since it came from Daphne, caught him full on the shoulder. “Ow, that hurt.”

“Well, don’t be crass and you won’t be hit...although Daph, you really should restrain yourself, dear,” Kelsey began, and the boys started to nod vehemently, until Kelsey continued, “you might hurt your hand. Be sure to use a stick or something next time they deserve punishment. Maybe a whip?”

“I think we’ve gotten the point,” Justin rushed to assure her. “So, your lady cop friend will really take us to this Woody's? What will we do there?” He looked nervously at the other three.

“You and George need to do a little more than, how shall I put it? Up the ante. You’ve done well today, warming up, and running. Now’s the time for the homestretch, and kicking your way to the finish line with those two. I think they’re about ready to cave. So it’s best to strike before they have time to regroup.”

“Do you think that’s really fair, Kels? Forcing ourselves on the two of them? Maybe they need time to think?” Justin worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Justin’s uncertainty made George draw his brows together in a frown. Was he doing the right thing?

Daphne scoffed. “Sure, Jus, you and George can wait like damsels of old until Brian and Ben come riding up to your windows and serenade you by moonlight. Don’t hold your breath though. Because while you’re waiting, your man will be fucking other guys in the backrooms and bathhouses until his health gives out...or in Coach Ben’s case, he’ll be committing slow suicide listening to that boyfriend of his nag him to death. Would you wish that fate on anyone you cared about?”

Justin and George looked at each other. Hell no, their eyes said.

“Well, come on, “ Daphne urged. “We’ve got less than an hour to find you two hot clothes at Ellie’s place!”
 

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