For Love of Justin

Let's Hear It For the Boy(s)

Author's Note:  Thank you to my dear betas, Thyme and Chadmom

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The young man let himself into the darkened house. It was often like this by the time he got home; the main house seemingly deserted. He walked into the kitchen and found his younger sisters sitting at the scratched Formica table as they tried to do homework by the faint light cast by the television set. The sound was turned off.

“Does father know you are watching television?” he asked in a low voice. It was a rhetorical question. Obviously their father did not know the little girls were watching television as it was forbidden to the children, except for very limited programs, mainly religious and sports shows, and the occasional Hallmark special.

“Daddy is at one of his meetings. He won’t be back until later. He said you would make us dinner,” Susie, the smaller of the two girls answered him, her smile bright in welcome of her idolized big brother. Annie, two years older at seven, was more entranced by Cody of “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody,” and barely noticed his entrance.

“He went to one of his meetings?” His stomach clenched. He had hoped his father would drop that group, or at least lie low with all of the extra police attention after the shooting.

Susie looked at him curiously. “He said it was very important. He wants you to be sure to stay up to tell him about practice, though, when he gets home.”

Annie chimed in, having that childlike ability to follow two conversations at once. “He’s gonna make you go to the meetings, you know. I heard him talking on the phone. He says you oughta be number one on the team and if you ain’t, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Don’t say ain’t,” he automatically instructed, as he dropped his cleats and gear bag on the floor. It was pointless trying to teach them not to say hell; that word was a fixture in a house where fire and brimstone speeches were a daily occurrence and the Devil was considered to be as real as your congressman, and much more likely to have an interest in your personal affairs. He moved to the sink to wash his hands, in preparation for making the three of them dinner. It would be a long meeting tonight, he sensed. No wonder the girls felt safe risking the TV.

He was lost in thoughts about the practice, and what he could safely tell his father. His head was buried in the freezer, looking for something to defrost, and thus he didn’t hear Susie calling his name, although from her tone of voice, she must have been trying to get his attention for several minutes.

He turned to look at her, and tried to mask his unsettled emotions. No reason to worry his little sister.

“What is it, Suz? I was just trying to figure out if we should have chicken or chicken,” he smiled at her.

“I asked you,” she said in her exaggeratedly patient voice, smiling slightly in acknowledgment of his weak joke...five year olds were such a tough audience, he reflected wryly... “What is a damned faggot?”

He set the packet of frozen chicken on the counter and sighed. “It’s another one of those things you shouldn’t repeat.”

“But what is it? Daddy says it’s gonna be open season on them soon. Are they like deer? I hate when he goes hunting for deer. They can’t even shoot back.”

Annie looked away from the antics of the blond twin boys on the television at her brother’s pained expression. “They’re people, stupid. People that Dad doesn’t like. But it’s something we can’t talk about. Like the television getting Disney. Right?”

Her brother nodded gratefully. “Right. I’ll...I’ll try to explain it better some time, but for now...it’s like the television. It’s one of those things that Dad believes that we don’t have to agree with but we can’t let him know we don’t agree with. Okay? It’s...well, it’s just better for us this way.”

The two little girls nodded their heads. By unspoken agreement, the television was turned off long before their father was expected home and the homework checked over carefully. No one wanted to incite their father’s anger that night.

After helping his sisters get ready for bed, the young man waited in the dark for his father’s return. He tried to think of some way to discuss the practice that wouldn’t anger him, but it was difficult to know what to do without knowing who else attended the meetings and might have given information that would expose a lie.

He closed his eyes. Hating the gays for making his life so much harder was the easiest route. Was that how someone like his father was created? Taking the easier route to avoid pain to yourself and the people you loved, even if deep down inside, you knew it was wrong?
 

*********************
 

Brian met up with Ben outside Woody’s. He grimaced as he saw the crowds outside. It was one of the small club’s “musical” nights and the lesbian Elvis impersonators were performing.

“Okay, you’re the professor and an expert on gay studies, you tell me.” He looked over at Ben as they walked past the lines and were waved in by the bouncer, to the chagrin of the waiting masses. Ben hid his smile; Brian was totally oblivious to the special treatment that his status as Stud of Liberty Avenue accorded him. It was one of his more likeable traits. “What the fuck is the attraction to seeing a group of women who hate men dressing up like men?”

Ben laughed. “Lesbians don’t necessarily hate men, Brian. Although I’ll concede that, after watching your interactions with them, any reasonable person would reach the same conclusion, for reasons that are primarily your fault. You’re enough to make most women swear off men and opt for their own gender.”

Brian grinned unrepentantly. “Aw, Professor, that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me. Let me buy you a drink.”

They continued to tease each other as they approached the bar. Brian wasn’t sure how Ben had escaped for the evening but he wasn’t going to ruin the mood by asking. As it turned out, he didn’t need to ask. Once they reached the bar, they were joined by Ted and Emmett - Radio Free Liberty, all gossip, all the time. The more flamboyant of the two greeted Ben with a squeal, jumping up and down happily.

“Oooh, it’s so good to see you! I’m glad you didn’t let Michael going off to that comic book convention in Oregon keep you from getting out for some fun.” Emmett kept an arm draped around Ben’s shoulders as he flagged down the bartender and signaled for some drinks.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Oregon? Mikey’s in Oregon? Why the hell would he go all the way out there?” His handsome features looked puzzled. It wasn’t like his best friend to go to the dentist, much less take a trip across the country, without giving Brian all of the details...in triplicate.

Ben looked similarly perplexed. “I think you’re mistaken, Emmett. Michael is at a comic book convention, but it’s in Chicago. It came up at the last minute. Another comic book writer canceled and the publisher asked if Michael could fill in for him. He’ll be away until Monday.”

Emmett bit his bottom lip as he exchanged looks with Ted. Brian caught the subtle shake of the head that Ted gave the tall queen and drew his brows together. Something was up and Temmett knew about it. Or, Ted knew and Emmett was privy to some of the information but didn’t know the significance. Brian smirked. No problem....

“Who cares? One comic book convention is probably just like another, so it’s easy to mistake the city. Ted, grab those drinks and get us a table. I’m going to make Honeycutt’s night and dance with him in honor of the King.”

“Oooo, Brian! Really? This is one of my favorites too!” No sooner had Brian led Emmett over to Woody’s small dance floor, however, than his attention was caught by the sight of three other dancers moving to the beat of the muncher group’s cover of Elvis’ “Fever.”

“Damn.” Three heads were distinguishable above the lithe bodies that were twined together front to back, moving sinuously to the music: brunette, blond and redhead. Brian would kill them if he weren’t so concerned that somewhere in the city there was already a line forming to do exactly that. He turned to head back to the bar.

“Hey, what about my dance?” Emmett objected, standing with his hands on his hips. Brian looked around for a second. He grabbed a well built guy who was giving him a hopeful look.

“Hey, you, what’s your name, you want to dance?” he asked in his lowest, sexiest tone. The other guy looked like he’d died and gone to heaven. He grinned and leaned against Brian.

“I’m Buddy, and I love to dance,” he murmured, his hips swaying. Brian restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

“Great,” Brian pronounced briskly. “Emmett, this is Buddy, Buddy this is Emmett, now dance.”

The two men looked at each other for a moment, and then with a shrug, started moving in time to the beat. Brian left the dance floor and walked back to Ben, who had just closed his cell phone.

“Ben, do you see what I see? Over there, to the left.” Ben’s expression was a bit distracted so Brian grabbed his arm and turned him in the right direction. “Look...now...kids...in Woody’s.”

“I don’t see any...for Christ’s sake, Brian! The kids are dancing in here! How the hell did they get in? Daphne isn’t of age. I think Justin is...and George....is George twenty-one?”

Brian rolled his eyes. Sometimes he forgot how naive Ben could be at times. How the hell he ever ended up at a White Party and tied up to a bed for Brian’s pleasure was a mystery to this day. Yet, at other times, he was the worldliest man Brian knew. An enigma, their Professor Bruckner.

“Ben, who gives a fuck how they got in? Probably the same way every kid gets in, though for your information, Justin and George are of age. Only the girls are under twenty-one, and most places don’t card girls, especially Woody’s on muncher night. It’s as bad as a breeder bar then. The point is, why the fuck are they here when they are supposed to be safe at Ellie’s house, under guard? And where is that timid little runner you told me about a month ago? Where the hell did he learn how to dance like that? He’s going to have men crawling all over him!”

“Looks like he already does,” Ben said tightly, noting how closely George’s front was pressed against Justin’s back. Justin, in turn, had Daphne’s well-shaped ass pressed against his crotch as she shimmied to the music. Brian couldn’t help noticing how happy and carefree the blond looked; it was the most relaxed he’d ever seen him in a crowd. George had his muscular arms wrapped around the smaller man’s torso as the three of them moved in unison.

Brian moved closer, Ben close behind him. He felt a large hand grasp his arm.

“Maybe we should leave them alone. We can keep an eye on them from here. They look happy, don’t you think? Why not let them enjoy themselves?”

Brian turned to look at Ben, surprised. In his mind, it was obvious. He was going to stop them because...well...because it should be his cock pressed against that delectable ass, not George’s. But, come to think of it, he couldn’t actually say that to Ben, could he? They’d agreed to stay away from the kids, for their own good. Of course, it went without saying that they expected the kids to stay away from them also.

The light bulb went off. His eyes narrowed and he looked around for the mastermind...and there she was. Kelsey– sitting on a barstool in a dark corner, nursing a mixed drink. Brian gestured to Ben with a tilt of his chin and an expressive tilt of one eyebrow.

“I think, dear Professor, that we are being played. Thinking back on today’s practice, I am sure of it.”

One of the things Brian appreciated most about Ben was that he didn’t need an explanation hammered into his head. Unlike Mikey and the others, Ben picked up on things fairly quickly. Right now, Brian watched as Ben’s slow half smile transformed his rather boringly handsome face, causing a dimple to appear and giving him a mischievous look.

“So, they’re trying to play the player. This should be interesting...purely from an academic viewpoint you understand. And purely for the purpose of furthering my studies of homoerotic interactions, I feel I should do all in my power to assist you in your response to their gambit. So, what do you intend to do, oh King of Liberty Avenue, and Stud of Studs?”

Brian smirked. “What any good homoerotic master would do in this situation when he finds his authority challenged...up the ante. Off with that shirt, professor and follow me, let’s show them how it’s really done.”

The two men sauntered past Kelsey, tossing their doffed shirts onto her lap as they passed. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of her two coaches, who looked quite different in this venue. She gestured for Daphne to come over but for George and Justin to stay dancing. This was clearly going to be a two--on--two game.

“Oh my God,” Daphne squealed, as she slid onto the barstool next to Kelsey, who quickly handed her friend a drink to cool her down...and quiet her at the same time.

“Shh, not so loud,” she hissed at her. “We’re supposed to be the ones in control here, remember?”

Daphne looked at the taller girl as if she were crazy. She stopped drinking for a second and rapped her knuckles on Kelsey’s head. “Helloooo, there is someone in there, right? I know you don’t swing that way but you’ve still got to appreciate what’s out there purely as a student of the human body, Kels...take a look at Coach Bruckner! Did you ever see shoulders and pecs like that before? I mean, on a real live man? Not in a magazine? And with that deep voice of his, you know it’s not steroids, they always have those teeny, squeaky voices, plus, that package says real man to me. Not to mention Coach Kinney, he looks good in his running shorts but, oh my stars and garters, that man was made for a pair of Levis, and that undone button.... Look at the two of them dancing together....” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m getting wet, Kels.”

Kelsey smiled ruefully. “Sounds like you’ve decided you’re one of the girly girls after all, Daph. Congratulations.”

Startled by the tense note in her friend’s voice, Daphne looked over. There was a suspicious shine to Kelsey’s blue eyes. “Kels, it isn’t like that, all I was...”

“Later, Daph. Let’s watch the guys.”

Daphne looked at her friend, concerned, but Kelsey was careful to avoid eye contact with her. Instead, she assumed her usual expression of detached interest and even signaled the bartender to bring another soda for Daphne, who had gulped down her first one. Mentally shrugging, Daphne turned her attention back to the dance floor, where the four men were drawing a bit of a crowd as they engaged in their informal dance contest.

Brian was aware that he wasn’t known for having any particular skill on the dance floor and if there was anyone with less, it was probably Ben. But he intended to make up for what they lacked in natural rhythm with pure sexual energy and chemistry.

“Brian,” Ben whispered into his ear as they reached the center of the dance floor and started moving slowly, Brian’s bare back and jean clad ass pressed against the broad muscular chest behind him, “what exactly do you have in mind? As in, exactly how far do you intend to go to show the boys not to play with fire?”

The long lashed hazel eyes closed as toned arms came up and wrapped around Ben’s strong neck, the move showing the slimly muscled body to even better effect as it moved sensuously to a rhythm far older than any tune the band was playing.

“Think White Party 1999...without the drugs,” Brian finally answered, his lips barely moving as he ground his narrow hips against the groin behind him. Ben tossed his head back and laughed more freely than he had in ages. He pulled his friend closer...1999 had been a very good year.

Watching, George’s breath caught. If he hadn’t been totally smitten with the big man before, that laugh would have done it. He was more determined than ever to bring that kind of laughter to Ben’s life on a regular basis. The cut build that all of the other men were lusting at–that was no revelation to the young redhead. He saw the man in shorts and t-shirts often enough and had a vivid enough imagination to know the body underneath must be a dream. He just knew that hiding behind those wire rim glasses and tweed clothes was a vibrant man of passion. A man who was meant to be happier than he was. That partner of his was just sucking the life right out of him–and not in the way George intended to do it, he thought with a devilish smile.

Justin’s eyes glazed over as he too focused more on the two coaches, well, one of them, than on his own dancing. The band had switched to a hard driving bass and drum instrumental. Fully aware that they’d attracted the attention of most of the room, the two older men continued to seem oblivious to anything but each other. Their lean bodies moved together in time to the beat of the hard driving music, their crotches grazing, their bare chests pressed together, eyes holding each other’s gaze. Slowly, Brian slid down Ben’s body, maintaining the close contact, his mouth, tongue and hands tracing a path along the hard bodied man’s chest and abs, down past his waist and the hard bulge of his crotch. All Justin could think of was when that mouth had moved down his own body with such single minded purpose, when those hands had caressed his skin...Justin stumbled and would have fallen if not for George holding him up.

“This plan isn’t working,” George leaned forward to whisper in Justin’s ear. “Fuck, they’re hot. Do we concede?”

“You have got to be kidding!” Justin turned his attention back from the other two dancers and smiled brightly at his friend. “You see what your man is packing and you want to give up now? Use your head, George. The other head. They’re showing off for us, since we know they’re not attracted to each other. Not like that. And they’re also trying to send the message that we’re too young...we’re not ready to play with the big boys. I say we show them we are.”

George grinned back at him. “I was hoping you’d say that. Here’s what I think we should do.”

He wrapped his arms around Justin a little tighter and bent his head closer, keeping his eyes on Ben and Brian even as he whispered in his friend’s ear.

“Jus, Brian is mouthing Ben’s cock through his 501's. No, I take that back, Ben just lifted Brian up and is returning the favor...oh my God, look at those arms of his. They’re as thick as my thighs. Oh my lord, he’s rubbing his face on Brian’s body while he’s holding him up like’s it’s nothing...how strong is that man? Maybe we should just go sit down and give up. I think I’m going to swoon. Can a grown man swoon? I caught you, you have to promise to catch me. We could strip naked and no one would even notice.”

“You want to stare at those arms, or you want to hit them with your best shot? And besides, I didn’t swoon...I stumbled on your big feet. So stop fucking around and get serious. Short of stripping completely, what can we do?” A determined light was in the baby blue eyes as they reluctantly looked away from Brian’s arched torso, held high above the dance floor as their “serious” coach licked his way along the finely toned muscles and down the lightly haired pleasure trail; it was just as well, Justin probably would have lost it as the crowd stomped its approval at Ben’s trick of unbuttoning the top two buttons of Brian’s Levi’s with his teeth before he continued on down with his ministrations.

Taking a few deep breaths and also making sure to keep his back to the two “dancers”, George looked Justin in the eyes. “Ok, I’ve composed myself, I’m ready. We can do this. And you’re right; stripping is likely to be counter-productive. Suggestion is better than anything else, that’s what those two are using...well, that and really hot bodies. We have to use what we have, which is youth...and really tight little asses.”

Justin blinked but George just smirked at him. Justin might have the spirit but George had the pragmatism. He reached down and loosened the drawstring holding up Justin’s cotton pants, causing them to slide down a couple more inches until they barely clung to his ass, the strap of his thin jock strap showing above the lowered waist. George then pulled off his own belt, letting his loose jeans slip down, revealing that he was going commando. 

Kelsey and Daphne had drifted over by this point.

“Nice touch,” Kelsey commented. “But you need one more thing to compete with the semi-fellatio taking place over there. Wait a second.” With that, she walked over to a couple of women who were observing the show from one of the high tables against the wall. Within seconds, she came back with two water bottles. Handing one to Daphne, she proceeded to pour the other over George’s bare chest, managing to liberally soak his thin jeans in the process. With a wide grin, Daphne followed suit, pouring the second bottle over Justin, getting quite a lot on the front of the cotton pants, molding them to his slim form. The drops of water glistened on their smooth young skin.

“Is that it?” Justin asked, looking down at his wet crotch. “Your idea of competing with those two, the epitome of walking wet dreams, is us, the epitome of a wet jockey contest?”

“Well, since neither of you appears to be wearing jockeys, that would be poor planning on my part. Come on, the coaches are stopping their display now that the band is finishing that number, and no doubt they are congratulating themselves on sending you two scurrying from the field in defeat. Instead, you will show them that was just round one. I already made a request of the band; you two are up next.”

“Up next?” The two young men looked at each other blankly, then followed their determined mastermind as she pulled them mercilessly in her wake.

“Kels? Uh, Kels? Where are we going?” Justin glanced back at Brian, who was leaning back against Ben, looking at another man as he gave his trademark smirk. Ben’s arm was resting possessively around Brian’s shoulder as the two of them took swigs from beers that were handed them by an admiring bartender. A pang shot through him. Maybe he’d misread the whole situation? Maybe the two men were closer than he’d realized? They looked so natural together, both of them tall, handsome, confident. They didn’t seem to notice their young runners leaving the area as they were busy accepting compliments from the men who surrounded them.

Kelsey, the mastermind, was tugging on George’s hand as Daphne pulled on Justin, dragging him over to the stage. The backlit stage, Justin noted, blushing, as he realized that his dampened pants would leave nothing to the imagination with those strong lights behind him. The opening notes of a bouncy tune, very different from the last one, were starting.

“Come on, Sunshine, they’ll be looking for you soon enough. They just think they have you safely nailed down, after the pathetic googly-eyed performance the two of you turned in during their dance number. Let’s hope you can recoup some pride during this.”

“But what are we going to do?” George and Justin practically whined at her, as the two girls shoved them toward the steps leading up toward the stage in front of the band.

“A go-go dance to ‘Let’s Hear it for the Boy,’” Kelsey told them. “The band’s lead singer wasn’t thrilled with being so upstaged either and thinks you two twinks are cute, so shake it for all you’re worth. Now GO and go-go!”

The two of them looked at each other and then grinned widely. The singer for the band was a tall, well over six foot, drag queen in black lame. Actually, Justin hadn’t realized she was a drag queen until he reached the stage. He just thought she was a really tall black woman as she looked really good in her stage attire and performed the covers of most of the Divas as well as the originals. He could see why she hadn’t cared for the focus being on the dancers and the band’s rhythm section

Standing now, center stage, she beckoned a long nailed finger to the two young men and smiled a cat like smile.

“Come on, boys,” she purred, “I hear you’re going to show us what you’ve got...and it looked pretty fine from here, especially in these bright lights...,oh my, I think we can see all you’ve got! Put it together, everybody, for my very own new backside boys, Justin and George! Let’s hear it for the boys, oh yeah!”

Justin and George took up positions on either side of Athena, the singer, as she launched into the song. Justin forced himself to focus only on the music, and not on the men watching, or how low his pants were slipping. As much as he wanted to search the crowd and see if Brian was watching, he denied himself. Let George wear his heart on his sleeve, he told himself. It was bad enough that Kelsey had caught him staring longingly at Brian.

George wasn’t thinking about Kelsey’s plotting or the other men in the crowd. Having made up his mind to go up on stage and dance, he was doing just that. But with his blue eyes closed, he was thinking only of Ben as he danced, his body moving naturally to the music, his jeans barely hanging on since his smaller ass wasn’t providing the natural block that Justin’s more ample buttocks did against slippage. An inch of dusky red curls were showing, made darker by the sweat from his exertions...and the water Kelsey had doused him with.

Brian was having a hard time holding Ben back. But at least restraining the professor was distracting him from his own desire to pull Justin off the stage and away from all the leering eyes...the perverts.

He leaned closer and spoke low enough for Ben’s ears only, his hard grip never leaving the other man’s arm.

“Do you want to cause a scene? You know Temmett will be on the phone to Mikey in less than the time it takes for you to clear the room with your pretty redhead, telling him a highly colorful tale of your heroics. Are you ready to end things with your partner that way?”

Ben turned toward Brian and gave a short laugh, a far different sound than he’d made earlier. This was a harsh bitter noise; it almost hurt to hear it, Brian thought, recoiling from his friend in dismay. Ben twisted his mouth in a mockery of his usual gentle smile.

“They’d have trouble doing that,” he explained in answer to the question in Brian’s eyes. “Your best friend isn’t where he should be and isn’t answering his cell phone. When I finally reached his hotel, surprise, surprise, guess where he is? Oregon. And guess who answered the phone? Dr. Dave. The fucking chiropractor. Make that the chiropractor who fucks his patients. So, what is wrong with a coach who fucks his runners? If it drives that kid to do something like this...what do I do? But as far as my partner, we’re apparently through; he just didn’t bother telling me. Am I the only one who cares about ethical issues anymore?”

The pain in Ben’s voice was so raw that Brian saw his own actions in a completely different light. He’d meant to honor his promise to Ben, he truly had, but then he had felt that the situation with Justin called for a reevaluation of that promise. And he felt bound only by his promise to Ben, not by any obligation to keep away from an adult runner. Yet, he did remember being bothered by Mikey’s doctor fooling around with him. Mainly because that relationship always seemed to stay on an unequal footing.

He glanced back to the stage. George and Justin looked so young up there. Hot as hell, but young too, far younger than their ages. And just as George was dancing with the same wild abandon that he ran, like he brought to everything he loved, Justin was dancing with that same grim determination he brought to his running– the determination to win that masked a terrible fear. The song was ending and the men in the crowd were getting bolder in their attentions to the two attractive, barely clothed young men.

“We’ll deal with Mikey later. You were right. We should get them out of this mess.”

Ben nodded, his face showing his relief. They pushed their way through the crowd in short order, going right up to the front of the stage. With a shared glance, they knew what they were going to do–they just hoped their boys would cooperate. They made a brief detour by the two girls, for Brian to growl, “Follow us out,” but didn’t wait for acknowledgment. Better to assume they would, he knew. Anything else was to invite argument.

Athena saw the two tall men pushing past the last of the men in their way to reach the front of the stage and she signaled the band to go into a big finish.

“Let’s Hear it for the Boys!” she sang out, as with a crash of cymbals and drum roll, Brian and Ben reached up their arms to their respective “boys”. With wide smiles, Justin and George leaped down into the waiting arms, and were carried right out of the club.

“You four are in such big trouble,” Brian announced, even as he clutched Justin close to his chest. He’d put him down but kept an arm around him. The six of them were heading across the street toward Ben’s car. It would be a tight fit to get home but no one knew where their police guard had gotten to and it didn’t seem like a good time to remind the two coaches that they should look for her. A moment later, that seemed like a bad decision.

“Look out!” Daphne yelled as a car sped around the corner, heading directly toward them. Brian pulled Justin and Daphne behind him as he spun away from the car’s path. Ben had his arm around George as he stepped back onto the safety of the curb. He grabbed for Kelsey, who was farthest ahead, but he missed her and she continued to take another step before stopping, the warning finally sinking in.

The usually calm, capable, clear thinking Kels just stood there, frozen as the car careened closer. Shoving George back toward Brian, Ben dashed forward, putting his large body between the panicked girl and the car.

Brian held the struggling George as Daphne and Justin clung to each other and everything seemed to move in slow motion. Ben had Kelsey, his back to the car and was heading toward the curb, and unless the car was trying to hit them all and run off the road, or the driver was drunk, all should be well, Brian thought, daring to take a breath. The car was definitely slowing down so the danger seemed to be past.

That’s when he saw the glint of metal coming from the rolled down window, the light from a nearby streetlight hitting it.

“Hit the ground!”

He pulled George and Justin to the ground, noting that Justin had a good grip on Daphne, so she came down too. For the second time in his life, he heard the sound of a gun shot, then a car speeding away. Not Justin, not Justin, was his first thought, followed quickly by the thought that he couldn’t think of any one of these five whom he’d want it to be. He would take a bullet for any one of them.

But, he knew it wasn’t him. He felt the sting of gravel where he’d skinned his hands and arms hitting the pavement hard in falling, but he’d landed on top of the kids, trying to protect them with his body, so he’d not even gotten much of that. Ben and Kelsey! Kneeling, he looked down at the pale frightened faces.

“You guys okay?”

“Yeah, we’re not hurt. Thanks, but...” George looked over to the street, his face white, the freckles standing out in stark contrast by the dim light of the streetlight. He looked like he had cinders sprinkled across his nose, Brian thought, distracted by the irrelevant thought.

Ben and Kelsey were still lying on the road.

“Fuck.” Brian scrambled to his feet.

“Go inside and get help, Daphne and Justin...no arguments, just do it! Find Ted and Emmett, you’ve met them, if you can’t find that cop friend first. And bring back a bouncer or two. Get back out here right away and don’t separate. George, call 911, here’s my phone.” He said all that as he was moving. George followed him, pressing the buttons on the phone automatically as his wide eyes remained fixed on the still forms on the ground. Justin and Daphne stood indecisively for just a moment, not wanting to leave their friends; Brian’s shout of “go” sent them running into the club for help.

“Ben, Kelsey, come on you two, it’s okay to get up now,” Brian spoke cheerfully, despite the chill in his chest. Ben’s large body completely covered the slim figure of their runner. Now that he was closer, Brian could see the pool of blood, and the tiny spark of hope that he’d been harboring that perhaps Ben was just being extra careful and keeping their heads down until he knew the gunman was really gone...died.

“No. Please God, no,” George whispered, falling to his knees by their side.

Brian looked around the eerily deserted street. Where the hell was everyone? This was a weekend, on the street behind Woody’s, and no one was around. How could a car just come along and shoot two people down?

Think, Brian, think, he told himself. He knew only seconds had gone by, and help would be coming, but he had to do something. What would Kelsey do? Find out where the blood was coming from.

He didn’t want to move Ben but he didn’t know how long an ambulance would take. Liberty Avenue wasn’t high priority. He started to shift the heavy man over when a crowd of people came out of Woody’s–led by Justin, Daphne, and Athena. Great, Brian thought, I ask for some muscle and maybe a cop and he brings me a drag queen.

“What’s the trouble, sweetie?” the tall queen asked him, all business.

“Not sure,” Brian answered. “Gunshot, just one but both aren’t answering. George, did you call 911?”

“Yeah, they said they’ve had a run of false alarms, they’d get someone here as soon as possible.”

“Fuck...call again.”

“You call, handsome, let me deal with this. Medic in the army, four years, I can help with this. You focus on scaring the 911 operator.” With that, Athena directed the bouncers into moving Ben carefully off of Kelsey and onto the clean blankets she’d brought out with her. Using the hot water and other supplies she’d brought, she had the bullet wound she found in Ben’s shoulder cleaned, packed and wrapped by the time the police and ambulance arrived. Kelsey was found to have struck her head when Ben pushed her to the ground and was starting to come to about the same time.

Carl came hustling up, accompanied by his Officer, Tom Mann, just as Kelsey was asking her friends what had happened.

“I’d like to hear the answer to that as well, young lady. Why don’t we let you and Ben get taken to the hospital, though, and then we can all catch up on tonight’s events.”

As Kelsey was packed into one ambulance, with Daphne and a police woman riding with her, and George and Officer Mann riding with Ben in another, Brian found himself being detained by Carl as he started to head to his car with Justin in order to follow the ambulances to the hospital. Sgt. Perez was with him.

“Brian...we need to talk.”

“I know, Carl, you just said that, but I want to be there at the hospital when they take that bullet out of Ben’s shoulder and when he comes to. Do you understand what happened here tonight? Someone tried to gun us down in the street! Fuck tried...someone did gun us down in the street! Where the hell is your police officer?”

“She’s dead, Brian.”

Brian stared at him in shock.

“What the fuck? What do you mean, she’s dead?”

“Apparently someone saw her take the kids here to a gay bar. She was called on her police radio at approximately 11:00. According to the dispatcher, she received a call at that time and returned it giving her location as here. The doorman at the club said she took a call at the club and left saying that if any of her charges were looking for her she’d be back shortly. He saw her entering the alley and then got distracted by the show your kids put on. Mann says he never saw her return. We were responding to the ambulance call picking up her body and taking it to the hospital when your call came in.”

Perez took up the story. “She was lured into the alley, it appears, and struck on the head. They may only have intended to keep her away when they made their attack later, but they hit her too hard. Her skull was crushed. Had she been found sooner, she might have been saved, but she lay there for over an hour and when she was found, it was too late, intra-cranial bleeding is what the medical examiner is probably gonna give as the cause of death.”

Justin slumped and Brian barely caught him in time.

“Justin,” he murmured, holding the young man closer. He was deathly white and Brian was afraid that he going to pass out.

“Carl, I think we’d better continue this later. Do you need something from me right now, before we go?”

“I need you to keep Sgt. Perez here with you– and with Justin– at all times. This thing is bigger than we thought. Someone at the station had to have cooperated in this, Brian, to have known that Carey was going to be there at the club with them. Maybe someone could have seen her go in with them, but to be able to know how to reach her on her police radio that quickly...to know she was a cop. That took a cop’s cooperation.”

Justin looked at the grizzled detective. “Keep a police guard with me? I can’t do that! Look what happened to that nice woman. She stayed with us tonight and it got her killed. Just like it got my boyfriend killed. You didn’t say but I can tell. They hit her with a baseball bat, didn’t they? They bashed in her brains, just like they want to do to all of us. They want to see us all dead! If they can’t shoot us, they can just beat our brains in.”

Carl looked at Justin, who was shaking. “I’m sorry son, I know this brings back bad memories for you, especially the way she was killed. But I don’t think we can hide from these things because they’re hard. You’re a strong young man, and I don’t think these cowards can beat you unless you let them. Officer Carey didn’t think that and she wouldn’t want you to hide now. That isn’t why she gave up her evening for you and it sure as hell isn’t why she gave up her life. She was a cop, a good one, and she didn’t become one so that good people would live in fear. She got a little careless tonight and should have known better than to go into that alley, but we all make mistakes.”

Perez nodded. “Yeah. They made some big ones tonight. They killed a cop, that’s one. We don’t like people who hurt people, but we really don’t like cop killers. Maybe they think we won’t care because she was gay. If that was their plan, they made a second mistake. Because that won’t make a bit of difference, whether it comes to them hurting you or your friends, and it really won’t make a difference when it comes to them taking one of our own.”

Perez didn’t say much, Brian had noticed. But when he spoke, it made an impact. He remembered the man taking on the crowd of reporters the day Justin had been taken to the hospital. He nodded to the taciturn man and then pulled Justin gently toward the police car.

“Come on, kiddo. We need to get to the hospital and check on the heroes. It’s been a hell of a night, you know?”

Making a mental note to have Ted drive his car to the hospital later and to send the singer from the club flowers the next day, he led Justin to the waiting police car.

How ironic that somewhere, someone was having a fucked up night because they hit too hard with a baseball bat and killed when they meant to wound, and yet wounded with a bullet from a gun when in all likelihood, they meant to kill. And to think they still believe God is on their side, Brian thought, amused by his own black humor as he stroked the blond hair of the trembling young man in his arms, trying to sooth his fears.

Sucks to be the righteous some days.
 

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

Across town, another young man held his little sisters as they trembled, listening to the rants of their father as he yelled to the other men gathered in the meeting room in the basement. Their work had not gone well that night. All three children of the Leader prayed to God that he would not come looking for them later. Their Father in Heaven was supposed to be merciful, but experience told them that the one on earth never was, and after a night of failures and disappointment, he would need something to abate his anger. If his followers could not satisfy him, his children would have to suffice.

Some days, it was not a good thing to be the children of a righteous man.


 

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