For Love of Justin

"Leavin' On A Jet Plane"

Author's Note:  Thanks to Thyme for the beta and Chadmom for her continuing help and encouragement.

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“Michael? Are you awake?” David Cameron called up the stairs, hoping that his lover hadn’t been uncharacteristically energetic this morning and gotten up early to pack his bags for the return trip home. It wasn’t that Dr. Dave wasn’t ready for Michael to leave– he was more than ready for the visit to end, actually– but he was a kind man in his way and as soon as he saw the morning news he rushed home from his office on the off-chance that Michael might have logged onto the computer and caught some of the news from his home town.

The news was distressing, to say the least. A shooting outside that club that his lover’s friends frequented. Woody’s, that was the place. David grimaced to himself. Such a stereotypical gay club, right down to its name, he thought, tapping his foot on the stair impatiently.

“Michael!” he called again, more loudly. Could Michael have gone out with Hank? David’s son should be in school but he wouldn’t put it past him to play hooky in order to stay home with Michael and play video games. With a sigh, he started up the stairs, but a sound from the den caught his attention.

“David, hey. I thought I heard you come in! You should see the totally amazing comic I found mixed in with your Dad’s old medical journals! I bet you didn’t even know you had it.” He looked up at David with a grin. He was wearing just a pair of white briefs and an old Spiderman t-shirt; with his hair tousled from bed, he didn’t look much older than Hank. The image he presented should have been charmingly boyish, but all David felt was irritated that Michael obviously hadn’t started packing and had been pawing through his father’s precious journals without asking. To David’s mind, those “old medical journals” were the real treasures, not some old comic book from the 1940s or 50s.

“Never mind that, Michael, I have something important to discuss with you.” David walked back down the few steps he’d climbed and strode over to the clueless Michael, who was staring at him blankly. Fully exasperated, he grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and marched him over to the sofa in the living room.

“Sit, Michael, I need to talk to you.”

“But what is it? I don’t understand why you’re being so....”

“Michael, please. Just sit down and listen to me for a moment.” David knew it was rude to interrupt but he also knew that if he didn’t break in, the other man was capable of working himself up into a full blown tantrum and he couldn’t stand listening to him whine. As far as he was concerned, Bruckner had completely spoiled Michael and it took all of his patience and skill not to lose his temper with this new, more self-absorbed version of his old lover.

Thinking of Ben Bruckner immediately recalled to Cameron’s mind the events that had unfolded in Pittsburgh the night before, and the near tragic consequences. Setting his jaw firmly, he folded his arms over his chest and prepared himself to be blunt, but kind.

“Last night there was another gay hate crime in Pittsburgh, a drive-by shooting in the Liberty Avenue section near....”

“Oh my God.” Michael clutched the comic to his chest, forgetting himself so much that he actually crumpled the pages of the magazine. “Brian! It was Brian, wasn’t it? Don’t say another word, I can tell from your face that it was Brian. Oh my God, I never should have come out here! I knew that there was a gunman on the loose and yet I just had to come out here and see you and now look what....” He started gasping as tears fell unchecked down his face and he tried to catch his breath around loud gasping sobs.

David broke in on Michael’s paroxysms of grief. He knelt on the floor in front of him and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him forcefully.

“Michael, listen to me! Brian is fine. He was there but....”

“He was there? I knew it! He was probably there with that kid! He’s like a trouble magnet! Was he shot? Justin, that is. You know, he’s the one I told you about, the one who....”

“I know who Justin is, Michael. Will you please just listen!” David disliked raising his voice but Michael was frustrating him. He’d driven home in a rush, practicing how to break the news of Bruckner’s being shot to Michael, a sensitive task given that he’d just spent forty-eight hours making love to the man’s partner behind his back. Meanwhile, according to the news, and David was going by the more conservative news reports, not the sensational news stations that tended to over-dramatize everything, big, quiet Ben Bruckner, so much in appearance like one of Michael’s damn super heroes, was injured in true hero style, when he threw himself in the path of both a speeding car and a speeding bullet in order to save the life of one of his runners. Suddenly, David Cameron didn’t like Michael, or himself, very much.

“Michael...you need to pull yourself together, get packed, and get back to Pittsburgh. Ben was one of the most seriously hurt, the news say he saved a young runner....”

David was shocked at the ugly look that came into Michael’s bland face. “Ben was shot saving a runner, was he? Let me guess, it was the redheaded slut, George, I bet. I knew he would bring trouble to Ben, I just knew it!”

Taking a step backward, away from Michael, David pointed towards the stairs.

“Pack your bags and I’ll call the taxi to take you to the airport. You can take an earlier flight. I’ll arrange it. You should have just enough time if you hurry.”

“Why should I hurry?” Michael had a stubborn look on his face. “Ben is okay, right? You would have said something if he were critically injured. Or Emmett or Ted would have called me, and they haven’t, so he couldn’t be too seriously hurt. Though come to think of it, why the hell haven’t they called me? He is my....” Michael came to his senses enough to flush slightly at that point, but the sullen look remained on his face. He stood up, and his attempt to appear belligerent while clad in tighty-whiteys and a superhero t-shirt made the whole scene even more incongruous, David reflected even as he turned his back on both the sight...and any hope he might have harbored of rekindling his romance with Michael. The weekend had been fun, and made him remember how much Michael’s relative youth and naivety had seemed refreshing once upon a time. Somehow, though he was ashamed to admit it even to himself, the fact that they were seeing each other on the sly, and that Michael was choosing to be with him, Dr. Dave, the stodgy chiropractor that his friends sneered at, over Dr. Ben Bruckner, the muscular college professor who coached hot young Olympic hopefuls on the side and wrote theses on homoerotic topics while volunteering at the AIDS clinic in his spare time, was a turn-on. Bruckner was too good to be true, Dave often thought, and he really thought he would enjoy cuckolding the man.

Except he hadn’t expected perfect Ben to get himself shot while his partner was out blowing blowing another man, especially when that other man was him, Dr. Dave lamented to himself. It ruined the fantasy.

Walking into his bedroom, Dave pulled out one of his own designer bags and started methodically folding Michael’s clothes and placing them into the bag. No, first things first. The plane ticket and the taxi. His receptionist could take care of both, he decided. Moving as if in a dream, he went to the computer on his desk and sent a terse email to his office, grateful for the efficiency he’d trained into them. At least part of his life was as it should be.

“David?” Michael’s forlorn voice from the doorway of the room broke into his reverie. David looked over at him. He raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Michael’s still bare legs.

“I don’t think they’ll let you on the plane like that,” he told him.

“Why are you acting like this?” Michael whined. “It’s my boyfriend who got shot and I don’t even know how he is since no one, including you, has told me anything. Why are you acting like I’m the bad guy? Are you angry because I got upset?”

David sat down on the bed and shook his head in amazement. “You really take the prize, Michael, you know that? I’m not angry because you got upset. I’m perturbed because you didn’t get upset for the right reasons. Ben is supposed to be your partner. Forget that you’re here with me, I’m beginning to realize that this was a major mistake, but where is your concern for Ben? You’re more concerned about Brian, your so-called best friend, and about casting blame on two kids, who are just victims of some gaybasher’s hate mongering, than you are about your boyfriend as you call him, who is last on your list.”

Michael’s confused look turned to coy understanding, which sickened David even more as the dark haired man came over and tried to straddle him as he wrapped his arms around his neck.
“You’re just feeling guilty now, aren’t you,” Michael cooed into David’s ear as the older man sat stunned – how had he missed how oblivious the other man was? “It isn’t your fault that Ben insisted on coaching those kids after it was clear that there was trouble from hate groups! I told him to back away and leave it to the police but he insisted he had to stay coaching them, and what was worse, he made Brian stay in it too, and Brian wasn’t even a coach!”

David stood up abruptly, sending Michael to the floor.

“Your taxi will be here soon to take you to the airport. Don’t miss your plane, as I won’t be paying for another ticket. Good-bye, Michael. I hope Ben makes a full recovery. And I hope he tells you the same thing I’m saying now – we’re through. Try to find some heart next time you get involved with someone. You make even Kinney look like a warm-hearted bastard, you know that? Until then, stick to your comic book men, because you obviously don’t know a real hero when you have one.”

Michael stared at Dave Cameron’s retreating back. “Oh yeah?” he finally yelled after the other man, but he wasn’t sure he was heard. The door to David’s adjoining office had already shut with a firm click. Looking at the bag that was only half-packed and the amount of things still left to be packed, Michael gave up any thought of continuing the discussion.

He had a plane to catch. He needed to get back to Pittsburgh and make sure Brian was all right. And check on Ben too, of course.
 

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Justin swallowed hard and brushed away his tears before reaching up to pull down the beat up old suitcase from the top of the closet where he’d happily stowed it so many weeks ago. When Brian had helped him move into Ellie’s house, he’d thought he’d found a place he could call home. At least for a while. But he’d brought disaster to everyone he’d grown to care about. Just like he always did, he thought, blinking faster as his vision blurred with the tears that wouldn’t stop coming.

He tossed the suitcase on the bed but didn’t get any further in packing it. Instead he fell to his knees next to the old four-poster and buried his face in the folded clothes stacked on the bed. He felt too distraught to pray and the God of his childhood felt too far away from him now to hear anything he could say anyway.

“Does God even listen to the prayers of gays?” Justin muttered under his breath.

“Well if She won’t, who will?” Ellie’s tart voice replied. Red-faced, Justin scrambled to his feet. He tried to stand in front of the suitcase, but with his slim build, hiding it from Ellie’s sharp eyes was a forlorn hope. He sat down on it instead.

“Airing out your luggage I see. I like to do that in the spring, myself. Summertime is an odd choice of season, but to each his own, I always say. Now get that bubble butt of yours off that Samsonite and get the suitcase back in the top of the closet where it belongs! I need you to stop feeling sorry for yourself so you can help George. That boy is beside himself and could use a friend. Not to mention poor little Daphne. She’s got something bothering her and I think she could use a friendly ear to pour her troubles into. And that Brian of yours is running ragged trying to keep everyone going. I think he needs someone to remind him to get something into him besides coffee....”

Justin opened his mouth to protest but another voice cut in.

“Justin isn’t up to any of those things, Ellie. Justin’s a front runner...didn’t you know? He’s not a team player. He’s someone who prefers to go it alone. When the going gets tough, he gets going. That’s what the suitcase means. Right, Justin? So long, Kelsey; tough luck, Coach Bruckner. Too bad about you guys, but I’m hitting my stride now and leaving you all in my dust. That’s why you don’t even see Justin at the fucking hospital when his friends get shot, man. He’s too much a loner, a front runner, to come to the hospital and see if they’re even alive!”

Justin looked at his friend George. The normally cheerful face looked like death, his freckles standing out in stark contrast against his pallor, and his cheekbones appeared sharpened, as though he’d lost weight overnight. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his red curls hung limply around his face. He leaned against the doorframe as though he was too tired to stand without support.

“How is Ben?” Justin whispered, tears falling unchecked down his cheeks.

George seemed to explode into action, pushing past Ellie with an oath and with his long stride, reaching the bed in just one step. Ellie stayed calm as Justin flinched but didn’t move away or try to defend himself. But George didn’t strike his friend – he redirected his anger at the last moment - picking up the suitcase and throwing it forcefully at the closet, breaking both the case and the door.

The violence of the action seemed to calm both young men as the trio stood staring at the door hanging askew over the broken Samsonite suitcase. Naturally it was Ellie who recovered first. She walked over and leaned over the bag, then held it up by one broken side. She turned and deadpanned:

“And to think how those gorillas in the commercials stomp all over those suitcases and they hold up beautifully! I’m going to write to the company and demand a refund.” She headed for the door, dragging the broken bag behind her.

“Uh, Ellie?” Justin said.

“Yes, Justin?” The small, hawk-nosed woman turned and gave him one of her piercing stares.

“Um, well, that was my old suitcase. I just thought I should mention....” He trailed off in the face of that stare.

“Well, it was my closet.” Ellie pointed out. “And you’re the one who annoyed George. So, you talk with George and I’ll write to the Samsonite people. Lunch will be delayed.”

She continued on out of the room. Justin watched her for a moment then shook his head again. His eyes met George’s and to his surprise, he found that they both were smiling faintly. It was a small smile, to be sure, on George’s part, but a definite smile. Justin reached out his hand to touch George’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I should have gone to the hospital. I know I should have. But, I just...I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I wanted to. I really did. But, I froze. And I was like a little kid, terrified. And afraid that if I went, I would be bringing more trouble with me. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you and Daphne. You must think I’m a jerk and you’d be right, but you’re wrong if you think I don’t care. I care too much to keep putting the rest of you in harm’s way. That’s why I’m leaving.”

George looked back at him levelly. “I guess this is where I’m supposed to just accept that. Understand that you can’t stay and be okay with that, huh? Let you be all sacrificial and brave and leave on your own? Well fuck that shit, man!” Justin blinked and looked at him, uncertain of his meaning. George shook his head. “No man. You can do better, I know you can. I don’t buy this, ‘I’m running away to spare the rest of you’ crap. In my book, running away is running away, no matter how you rationalize it. And you don’t get to make decisions for the rest of us. Where the hell do you get to decide that Kel’s and Ben’s attack was all about you, Mr. Ego? In case you didn’t notice, you aren’t the only gay person around, and this is bigger than just you, now. So, we were ready to stay and fight by your side. Are you saying that when we get attacked, you’re going to run away with your tail between your legs?”

Justin sat down on the bed in shock, his legs no longer holding him up. He hadn’t looked at it like that! George folded his arms and looked down at him as smugly as someone in near exhaustion can look.

“I need to grab a shower and then I was planning on heading back to the hospital. Ben should be awake by then. You want to head back with me?”

Justin looked up, his blue eyes still suspiciously shiny, but this time his tears weren’t for something he thought he was leaving, but for something he realized he had found. A place he belonged.

“Yeah, you won’t be able to get rid of me,” he promised. “But you’ll be eating some of Ellie’s soup first. You look terrible.”

George smiled faintly. “You don’t look so great yourself, front runner. Come on, talk to me while I grab that shower. You can keep me awake.”

Justin got up to follow the other man. Tentatively, he asked, “Will you tell me how they’re doing?”

George threw an arm around his shoulder and leaned heavily on Justin as they headed toward the bathroom.

“Kels is going to be okay, though she has a bad concussion. The worst problem she has right now is her parents have come to town, and, well, you’ll see when you get to the hospital. But our Kel comes from an interesting background. Not quite what you’d expect.” Justin looked at George for more explanation but his friend just shook his head mysteriously and continued. “Ben’s shoulder wound was nasty. Along with the blood loss the bullet hit the bone, so the surgery took a long time and he’s going to be a long time recovering, they said. Thank goodness for Athena, she did a good job packing the wound. He would have lost even more blood if she hadn’t done such a good job rendering first aid. Ben’s in a lot of pain, but being his usual stoic self.”

George seemed like he wanted to say more but again, he visibly bit his lip and changed the subject, asking Justin if he could borrow clean jeans from him since all of his were in the wash. Justin quickly agreed and went to get them, but wondered why George was being so reticent. Was it something about Justin or something else that was bothering him?

Returning as George was finishing in the shower, Justin tossed him the jeans, thinking it was lucky for George that Justin favored loose jeans since George was somewhat larger. Looking at the other man’s leanly muscled body as he slid into the borrowed jeans, Justin thought back over the dancing at Woody’s that had taken place the night before –it seemed like an eternity ago now. The four of them– Kelsey, Daphne, George and he – they’d been so happy and carefree as they’d formulated their plan of attack on the two coaches. They’d never dreamed that the evening would end so tragically. The friendly police officer murdered, Ben shot and Kelsey injured.

All because George and he had decided to overcome their coaches’ scruples about dating students by making them jealous. Why couldn’t life be simpler? Justin wondered, as it would be if George and he really did want each other. But, looking at George’s admittedly sexy body, still glistening with drops of water from the shower, all Justin could think of was the shower he’d taken with Brian is this very same room.

He sighed...loudly.

George threw his damp towel over Justin’s head.

“Hey! What was that for?” Justin looked up, surprised and a little indignant.

“I can tell when someone is thinking about sex with someone else when they’re looking at me,” George retorted. “It’s a sixth sense of mine. And while I perfectly understand and wouldn’t really want it any other way, since I’m completely devoted to Ben, I object in principle. I do have feelings you know. Even if I happen to look like crap at the moment.” George grinned wryly, and there was actually a glimmer of his old humor in his eyes. Justin felt his spirits lift at the sight. He tossed the towel into the hamper and stood up.

“Come on, you and your principles. Let’s eat lunch and then get over to that hospital. What’s the story with Kelsey’s parents?”

“So, you’re staying?” George raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Wouldn’t leave you guys, you know that,” Justin affirmed, putting his arm around his friend’s waist. The feel of George’s muscular back gave him pause. He stopped and tipped his head in consideration.

George looked down at him, perplexed. “Something wrong?”

Justin smiled impishly. “Before we head down, let’s find you a shirt. I can resist your charms, but I don’t know about Ellie. She might jump you.”

Down the hall, where she was listening at a keyhole, Ellie smiled. She looked at the suitcase that she’d put on a chair, and commented to it, “Well, I guess I can put you back together now. Best bit of sabotage I’ve done this month, if I do say so myself. Although George throwing you like that did help matters along, now, didn’t it? That boy wouldn’t have gotten very far with his suitcase in two halves!” Laughing to herself, Ellie set about putting the pins back into the suitcase’s hinges.

 

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Brian ran his hand through his hair and tried very hard not to show how irritated he was. He glanced over at Ben and wondered if he could score a few painkillers off good old Zen Ben, who was looking more than usually tranquil. It had to be the morphine, Brian decided. Meditation didn’t give you that much peace of mind, not when faced with this much provocation. He decided to try again to get through to these annoying visitors.

“Mr and Mrs. Isgerate....”

“Reverend Isgerate, Mr. Kinney, I’m surprised that Kelsey never mentioned to you that I am a Presbyterian Minister.”

“Perhaps she was too busy telling him about the time you fed the five thousand with only five loaves and three fish...no wait, that was Christ, I do get the two of you confused, darling,” the sharp-faced woman interrupted, smiling sweetly. She turned to Ben and explained, “The Messiah and the man with the Messiah complex, it’s such an easy mistake to make.” Ben merely smiled placidly and didn’t comment, so the acid-tongued woman turned back to Brian. “And Mr. Kinney, may I call you Brian? Please, do not call me Mrs. Isgerate! I never used that name when I was married to the Reverend so I most certainly do not use it now. Feel free to call me Kass. Kass Kenner.”

“I’m sure that Mr. Kinney has better things to do than to listen to middle-aged women attempt to revisit their youth via ill-advised attempts at flirtation, Katherine,” Rev. Isgerate gently reproved his former wife, causing her to blush deep red. It was apparent that Kelsey got her looks from her father, as he was a handsome dark haired man, who shared his daughter’s long athletic build and dark gray eyes. The mother was pure Wasp, blonde hair, blue-eyes, and cold as ice demeanor... when she wasn’t hitting on someone, that is.  Brian wondered what brought the two of them together. It was easy to see what caused them to break up – they had nothing at all in common.

Brian smiled pleasantly at the well-dressed, carefully made-up blonde as he wondered how this couple had produced the calm, collected, nice Kelsey. Kass Kenner was a classic example of a stuck-up society bitch, while the Reverend was an overly bookish, introverted, somewhat sanctimonious, intellectual prig – a match made in Wasp heaven, one would think. So far they’d spent very little time in their daughter’s hospital room. Instead, they’d insisted on interrogating Ben as soon as they arrived, despite the fact that the professor had just come out of a lengthy surgery a short while before their arrival and could barely give his own name, much less details about the attack. Thus, Brian, although he still hadn’t gotten any sleep, stayed by his friend’s side and ran interference. Hints that the couple should visit their daughter had thus far fallen on deaf ears.

Turning on his own charm, Brian took Ms. Kenner by the hand, and, firmly grasping Rev. Isgerate’s elbow with his other hand, he guided the couple to the door.

“It has been absolutely delightful meeting both of you and I know that Professor Bruckner will want to have a long talk with you about Kelsey when he is fully recovered from anesthesia ... which is not now, you understand...as she is one of his most brilliant students and most promising runners. You do know, I’m sure, that he saved her life last night at no small risk to his own life?”

Rev. Isgerate tried to pause at the doorway but found to his surprise that for all his apparent slimness, Brian’s arms had a steely strength to them and the good Reverend was unable to break free of his grasp. Brian’s eyes were also sending an SOS to Sgt. Perez, who happened to be the policeman on duty, Officer Mann having volunteered to keep an eye on the runners going back and forth between the hospital and his grandmother’s house. The Sergeant quickly stepped forward to the rescue.

“I’m sorry, but visiting time is strictly limited for non-family,” he told the well-dressed couple, indicating that they should follow him.

“I beg your pardon, young man, but I am clergy!” Rev. Isgerate puffed out his chest indignantly. His ex-wife drew closer to him, willing to stand in his liturgical shadow briefly if it kept her in her daughter’s hunky professor’s sickroom.

“I’m sorry but you’re not Prof. Bruckner’s clergy, sir. He’s Buddhist,” was Sgt. Perez’ deadpan answer, with only the twinkle in his eye revealing that he was enjoying himself. Brian bit back a laugh at the shocked look on the couple’s faces. Clearly they weren’t fazed by Ben being gay, he thought, but the idea that their daughter’s favorite teacher and coach was a non-Christian? That was a shocker.

“Sgt. Perez, why don’t you take Kelsey’s parents down to her room now? I’m sure they’ll want to see for themselves that she’s making a good recovery from her traumatic experience.”

The Sergeant looked at him reproachfully. “I think she’s resting quietly now, Mr. Kinney, with young Daphne sitting by her bedside. Maybe Rev. Isgerate and Ms. Kenner would like to speak with Det. Horvath? He’s down in the cafeteria with Mrs. Novotny right now, and I know he’d be happy to brief them on increased security efforts.”

Brilliant idea, Brian thought, looking gratefully at the police officer. Spare Kelsey and Daphne and sacrifice Carl. Nodding at Perez, he allowed him to build up Carl and make it seem like he was practically the head of the Pittsburgh police department. He really should be, Brian thought, maybe at least then Liberty Avenue would get some decent police protection. Agreeing that he would be okay staying with Ben for the few minutes while Perez accompanied the couple to the cafeteria, Brian headed back into Ben’s room.

“Whew...those two were something,” he commented, sitting down in the room’s sole comfortable chair. “Can you believe they produced a sweet kid like Kelsey? Or that they wouldn’t have rushed to her side under the circumstances?”

Brian hadn’t really expected a response from Ben, who had been in and out of a semi-sleep most of the morning. But the big guy surprised him.

“They’re exactly what I expected,” the professor’s deep voice was still raspy from the anesthesiologist’s tube, but the wry note still came across in his tone. Brian raised a slim eyebrow in surprise. “You forget, I’m from the Midwest. People like that are why I left.” 

“It lives...and still thinks, thank God. Welcome back, big guy! You had me worried there for a bit, Ben. If you kept smiling at everyone like that, I was going to get you a handful of pencils, shave your head and set you up at the airport to raise money for the team.”

Ben rolled his eyes. He tried to sit up higher in the bed but winced when he moved his left shoulder. Brian moved quickly to lend assistance, putting his own shoulder under the bigger man’s good arm in order to hoist him up. Even being as careful as he could be, he knew the movement was causing his friend a great deal of pain.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he eased Ben back down against the pillows.

Ben smiled wanly, sweat dampening his brow. “Sorry is bullshit, isn’t that what you always say?”

“I say a lot of stupid things,” Brian said, sitting back in the chair. He leaned forward, his hands hanging loose between his knees. He looked earnestly at Ben. “I’m sorry as hell that I wasn’t more help, Ben. I was no good to you at all last night, but thank God you were able to save the kids. When I think what would have happened to Kelsey if you hadn’t had been there....” Ben held up his good arm and Brian stopped talking.

“You got the other three down safely, Brian, and I’m very grateful for that. When I heard that gunfire and then felt that bullet hit me, all I could think was, George is safe with Brian. Brian won’t let anything happen to him. I wasn’t worried about anything at all. Maybe that was stupid of me, but suddenly, a lot of issues that were clouding my thinking became clarified.”

Brian looked intently into Ben’s blue eyes. There was pain reflected, and tiredness, but there was a new peace there as well, which is what he’d mistakenly attributed to residual painkillers, he realized, as opposed to a near death epiphany. Thinking over what Ben had said, and remembering his own thoughts, which had centered on Justin, Brian slumped back in the chair and sighed.

“They’ve got us, but good, Professor. All we have to figure out now is how we’re going to keep them safe. And for you, how do you explain things to your loving partner?”

Ben looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Brian, have you heard from Michael yet today?”

Brian frowned. Come to think of it, he hadn’t. He glanced at his watch. Well past noon. Where was the man? His lover was gunned down and he hadn’t even called that Brian knew of, and Brian was sure that Michael had to have heard about the shooting by now. Debbie had been hovering around the hospital since last night, chasing George home to Ellie’s finally this morning so the boy could get a shower, some food, and supposedly some sleep, although Brian doubted he’d do the last. Daphne and Justin had been convinced to go home with Officer Mann late last night, once they’d been assured that Ben’s injury wasn’t life-threatening, and only Daphne came back this morning. There had been no sign of Justin yet today, Brian noted with some concern, even as he focused on his absent “best friend.”

“Mikey is still out of town?” he asked, trying to feel his way through what he sensed was an emotional minefield despite Ben’s expression being back to its usual calm self.

Ben lowered his gaze to meet Brian’s. “Michael is returning this afternoon from his ‘comic convention’.” Ben gave the words ironic emphasis. “Emmett slipped up this morning and talked to Debbie when he thought I was still asleep, although how they thought anyone could sleep through the racket the two of them were making is beyond me. The whole sordid story came out thanks to Deb’s in-depth cross-examination skills. Carl really should use her on the force. She’s like one of those old time TV cops, like Cagney and Lacey, or Police Woman or something.”

“More like the Bionic Woman,” Brian quipped, happy to see Ben was smiling, even if it was a slight smile. “So, Zephyr was off adventuring on his own? I don’t think I approve.”

“Debbie certainly didn’t. She made her opinion quite clear. It was rather touching, really,” Ben smiled a bit more widely. “Some of it was in Italian, but the gist of it was that Michael was a fool for cheating on me, so it would serve him right if I turned my attentions to another man who would appreciate me and be there for me when...when I needed someone.”

Ben’s voice had broken in the middle of his sentence as he stared toward the hall. Brian turned to see what had caught his friend’s attention. He saw George and Justin standing together in the doorway.

“Well,” Brian said dryly, as the two younger men seemed to be frozen in place. “You may as well come in. Our police protection is gone so there’s no one to protect us from you two.”

For once it was George who blushed, while Justin merely raised his chin challengingly. Brian held back his smile, but his eyes met the challenge warmly, causing Justin to take a deep breath and proceed.

“That’s right, Coach Kinney, it looks like the two of you are at our mercy now,” Justin said firmly, as he walked forward into the room, tugging on George’s arm to bring him in also. “What do you think we should do about that fact?”

Brian looked at Ben, who smiled back at him before returning his loving gaze to the determined looking redhead who was gently easing himself down on the edge of his bed.

Justin squeaked as Brian reached out and pulled him onto his lap while Ben used his one good arm to pull an unresisting George into his embrace.

“I don’t think they’re putting up much of a fight, Jus,” George remarked before allowing his mouth to be captured by a very determined Ben Bruckner. Justin wasn’t in any position to answer, since Brian had already effectively silenced him with the same method.

Brian tangled his fingers through the silky blond hair and gripped the back of Justin’s head as he thoroughly kissed the young man, running his other hand along the slim back, pressing him closer to his body, molding him to his larger frame as the strong, runner’s legs wrapped around his waist. He slid his hand lower to cup the firm ass and guided Justin’s body even closer against his own. Small whimpering noises told him that the movement was approved. Similar sounds from the bed behind him indicated that Ben and George were similarly engaged in pleasurable pursuits, despite the handicap of Ben having only one working arm.

“What the fuck is going on here?” A loud bang from the doorway that accompanied the shout alerted Brian to the arrival of Mikey.

Brian stilled his roving hands and lifted his head with a sigh. Thankfully, Sgt. Perez was back at his post and was holding Michael back from entering the room. Instead, he was standing in the doorway, glaring at the four of them, a bunch of wilted daisies in one hand and a carry-on bag in the other, indicating he’d come straight from the airport.

Glancing at Ben, Brian was surprised but pleased to see that he too had stopped his amorous activities but maintained his close grip on George, easily defeating that young man’s attempt to wriggle away. With an exchange of glances, the two friends determined that Ben would handle this scene, with Brian lending whatever back-up was needed.

“What does it look like, Michael?” Ben asked coolly. He kept his good arm around George, and with his large hand pressed the lithe young runner firmly against his side. George raised his leg up onto the bed so that he was resting hip to hip with Ben, his left leg still on the ground to give him support but he kept his right arm and leg entwined with Ben’s left side. He rested his head down on that broad shoulder and for a moment, Brian thought that the tough young man was actually battling tears. He realized that George probably hadn’t gotten any sleep through the long night of worry and the last thing he needed was a nasty scene with Michael. He tried to signal as much to Ben but before he could say anything, he saw the big man’s arm tighten protectively around the younger man and he knew that everything would be all right.

Michael could have had all of that protective instinct and great heart for himself, Brian thought, a little sad for his first true friend as he waited for the ax to fall knowing it would. Michael never knew when he had a good thing and always had to yearn for something else. “It looks like you’re cheating on me behind my back, that’s what it looks like!” Michael said, growing red-faced in his indignation. He jabbed a finger in the air.

Unnoticed by him, Emmett, Debbie and Carl came up behind him while he was talking. Sgt. Perez stood next to him, his arms crossed over his chest.

“And you consider my kissing George to be cheating on you because of your faithfulness to our relationship, I suppose?” Ben asked in his gentle way. Debbie snorted at that and Carl tried to hush her. Michael turned, startled by the audience, and was clearly confused, unsure of how to proceed.

Brian prodded him. “Is this where I tell you to ignore the woman behind the curtain, Tin Man? Or are you the Cowardly Lion? Are you lacking a heart or courage?”

“I think he’s lacking a brain if he thinks I haven’t figured out by now that he went to see his old lover in Oregon and wasn’t in Chicago...or the Emerald City, for that matter.” Ben looked at Debbie, whose tears were falling freely. “I’m sorry, Debbie, Carl, that this has happened. You’ve both been wonderful to me and treated me like a son. But I’m afraid that Michael and I’ve decided that things just aren’t working out between us.”

“Wha...how can you just...Ma! You can’t just let him...Brian! He’s got that kid in bed with him! And Brian too! What the fuck is going on here!” Michael didn’t know which way to turn for help as he saw only disapproving faces every way he turned.

“Sir, do you understand this is a hospital? I must ask you to curb your language! My daughter is resting down the hall from a vicious attack and does not need to add your profanities to her ordeal!”

The Reverend Isgerate making his objections known to Michael’s language proved the icing on the cake.

Michael turned toward his new tormenter with relief.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, glad to have a new person upon whom to vent his annoyance.

“The Reverend Walter Isgerate, you little twerp, and we’ll thank you to lower your potty mouth,” said the ice queen, Kass Kenner, before walking up and slapping Michael’s face with a bitch slap worthy of Debbie herself. The two women stared at each other for a long moment and Brian wondered if Sgt. Perez would have to pull them apart next.

All that happened, however, was Kass nodding to Debbie and saying, “I’d appreciate it if you’d try to keep it down out here, my girl has a killer headache.”

“No problem,” Debbie agreed, adding, “next time, I’ll wallop him myself if there’s another peep out of him.”

Taking her ex-husband’s arm, the blonde nodded again, and they walked back to Kelsey’s room.

Blinking in surprise, Justin looked up at Brian. “Were they...?”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” he whispered. “Right now we need to get all these folks out of here, Zen Ben is flagging.”

Justin looked at the two men on the bed. Both looked pale beneath their summer tans. Firming his lips, the young man decided it was time for him to stand up for his friends – literally and figuratively. He slipped out of Brian’s protective grip, promising himself that he would return to it as soon as he could.

“Mrs. Novotny, I think Ben is feeling worn out and I know that George didn’t get any sleep last night, since he was waiting for word on the outcome of Ben’s surgery, so he could call the rest of us back at Ellie’s. Maybe you could take your son someplace and explain to him what happened ... someplace where his reactions won’t bother the patients?”

Sgt. Perez and Carl both smiled behind their hands at young Justin’s innocent manipulation of Debbie’s maternal instincts, pitting her natural championing of Michael against her sense of fairness; her fondness for Ben, the hero, and her new-found affection for George, charming young usurper of her son’s abandoned throne.

“Ma, I don’t want to go anywhere else! That kid is hanging all over Ben! What happened to Ben anyway? David said something about a shooting?” Suddenly, Michael shut up. He looked nervously at Ben, who gazed at the ceiling once more.

“The insertion of the foot was followed by an eerie silence,” Emmett brightly narrated.

“Okay, that does it, everybody out! Deb, take Mikey and Honeycutt and go to the diner for awhile. Ben needs some sleep and George and Justin need to pack and I need to check on the rest of Ben’s little charges....” Brian stood up next to Justin and briskly clapped his hands and made shooing motions at the door.

“Pack?” Justin and George spoke in unison.

“They’re leaving?” Mikey asked hopefully.

“Where are they going?” Carl asked. “You know there is an on-going investigation, Brian.”

“They’re going to Disney, boys and girls,” Brian chirped in a pseudo cheery voice, including Daphne and a pajama clad Kelsey in his announcement, since the two girls had just joined the crowd. He walked over and put his arms around both girls as his gleaming hazel eyes met Justin’s startled blue ones.

"We heard all the excitement and talked our nurse into letting us join the fun," Daphne told him when Brian raised an eyebrow at her. 

 Kelsey dryly added,  "Since my mother's dramatic way of helping me attain peace and quiet is by hitting someone, Daphne convinced me that we needed to be on hand to calm things down. So, are we really going to Disney, Coach Kinney?"  She looked at Daphne and smiled.  Daphne didn't stop at that--she jumped up and down and then hugged each of her friends in turn, then hugged Carl, causing the gruff detective, and everyone else, to smile.  Brian continued.

“Make that Euro-Disney, of course. Ben and I are taking the four of them to train and race in Europe for the next four weeks, Carl, so you can work on catching the local homophobes and baddies, and they can work on their splits and their tans...in relative peace.”

Chatter broke out again as Michael protested and the girls talked excitedly with the boys. Eventually Carl managed to lead Debbie, Emmett and Michael away, but not before Ben and Michael had a few quiet words together. The serious professor very simply made it clear that he had finally had enough.

George watched from the window, having retreated to give Ben privacy with his former partner. Brian appreciated the sensitivity that made George realize that Michael needed to hear the words, even when everyone else realized that he’d sealed his own fate when he went to Oregon. Mikey, who wasn’t always a sensitive person toward others, always needed sensitivity shown toward his feelings.

Brian left Justin with the girls for a moment and walked over to the young redhead, who had turned to stare moodily out the window.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Brian offered.

George turned and offered a half smile. “You’d be wasting your money.”

“How about you let me decide how to spend my money?” Brian suggested. He placed a bright copper penny on the window sill, earning a grin from the other man.

“Well, with cash on the barrel head...or windowsill, rather, I have no choice, do I, but to ante up? Or is that too many cliches at once?” Brian raised an eyebrow and pointedly waited. George smiled crookedly. “Will it really happen? Europe...Ben and me…you and Justin, hell, let’s go whole hog while I’m dreaming and ask, how about the Olympics? Will our little gay band actually make it to the Trials much less the Games themselves?”

Brian looked past the flaming red head to the Pittsburgh skyline and then turned back to the roomful of people. George was like him, he realized. Justin and Ben were the idealists, the believers, but he and George were the pragmatists who...who wished they could believe, he acknowledged ruefully.

He threw a comradely arm over George’s shoulder and drew him back toward the others as he jerked his head toward where Justin was politely leading Michael toward the door.

“It will, George. If for no other reason than because our guys are too stubborn for it not to happen.”

 

====================================================

Between one thing and another, it was a full week before Brian finally ended up back at Ellie’s house. Kelsey had been discharged from the hospital after only a day and she made short work of convincing her parents to head back to their respective homes. Brian wasn’t surprised to learn from their daughter that Rev. Isgerate and his former wife still had dinner together most nights at the rectory. And according to her eye rolling recital, shared more than a few breakfasts there as well. He claimed that it was always the couples who fought that had the wildest sex lives. Ben and Daphne had laughed while the boys had joined Kelsey in gagging.

In actuality, Kelsey’s parents had taken the whole incident rather calmly, Brian thought. Ben agreed with him. Considering that their daughter had almost been killed by some maniac or maniacs, Ben and he had more than half expected them to want to pull her out of the running program at the very least, and possibly withdraw her from the university. Instead, Rev. Isgerate had offered up some prayers of thanksgiving for their deliverance from evil, prayed for their continued recovery and made a condolence call on the family of the slain police officer. Kelsey had shrugged and explained that her father left everything up to God.

It was a relief to everyone when the Reverend and his ex headed back home to the mid-west shortly after the memorial service for Officer Linda Carey. The service was draining. It was a major event, as it is any time an officer is killed in the line of duty. The police department tried to keep it quiet that the officer was apparently targeted because of her orientation, unsure if that was the case, but her attackers must have decided that it suited their purposes to reveal the fact of Officer Carey’s orientation themselves. Letters proclaiming her to be a lesbian and denouncing her lifestyle appeared at all of the major news outlets on the morning after her murder. Those responsible for her death seemed to think that the fact of her homosexuality would make her death less significant in the eyes of the police.

Instead, her fellow officers vowed to avenge her death and stepped up their investigation into the “Homo Haters” as the Media crassly called the attackers. Representatives from all of the towns and counties and many of the surrounding states came to pay their respects. Volunteers for the security details for the runners tripled but Carl insisted on personally vetting each person before assigning them to a shift and even then, only a select few were allowed to guard the elite four musketeers, as Brian’s core group was known. Mann and Perez continued to be the key members of their security team with two others, a Chiana Brown and Cameron Smith working with them on off shifts.

Another quartet guarded four other members of the squad who were known to be bi-sexual or gay but thus far that group had kept a low profile and hadn’t experienced any problems.

Brian thought over all these precautions as he let himself into Ellie’s house, nodding to Officer Brown as he closed the door behind him. She was standing guard duty on the wide porch that Brian had first entered on that day, weeks ago, when he’d sought help for Justin who’d collapsed on him during their first run together. So much had happened since then, he reflected, as he walked toward the now familiar kitchen in search of a drink.

“I was wondering if I’d ever see you again,” the soft voice coming out of the dark, almost made Brian drop the bottle of Scotch when he did find it. Turning slowly, his eyes adjusting, he spotted the slim figure curled up on the chair in the corner of the screened in back porch.

“You’re up late,” Brian observed, keeping his voice low as he put the bottle down after filling his glass. Food could wait, he decided. It had been a long week, too long. He took a deep swallow from the glass of scotch and strode over to where Justin sat and nudged him over so that he could sit next to him.

“I’d hoped we’d see more of each other, after, well....” Justin’s voice faded away.

Brian could see that he was biting his lip. Brian took another long swallow from the glass and then placed it on the floor next to the chair. His hands free, he used them to soothe Justin's tortured lip, then picked the smaller man up and pulled him onto his lap.

“Yeah, that would have been what I would have wanted too,” Brian murmured, before pulling Justin’s head close to his and capturing those full lips, sucking the lower one into his mouth, tracing it with his tongue, running his lips over Justin’s whole mouth, tasting him, licking him, until he was whimpering in his arms.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, stroking his back and arms soothingly, firmly.

“Brian, I want you, please....” Justin gasped open-mouthed, boneless in the older man’s arms, his hands clasped around Brian’s neck.

Brian reached around and started to unbutton Justin’s jeans, his nimble fingers making short work of the fly and zipper. He reached inside and stroked his cock, causing him to thrust up into his hand in pleasure. Justin started to shimmy out of the confining pants. Brian laughed lightly.

“Eager, are we? Why don’t we take this upstairs so we don’t scare Ellie or the girls if they go wandering for a midnight snack?” he suggested in a whisper.

“Brian! Please!” Justin moved against his hand urgently as he continued to kiss Brian’s neck. Brian obligingly gripped Justin’s cock more firmly and stroked him forcefully, holding him through his orgasm. Justin hid his face in Brian’s neck for a moment, waiting for the shudders to stop. Brian continued to caress him lightly, as he waited for him to calm.

Finally, Justin raised his head, red-faced. Brian grinned at him and Justin lowered his gaze immediately.

“Don’t say a word,” Justin muttered. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“Why? For finding me irresistible? Not at all! Just admire your taste in men. But now can we go upstairs and try this again? A little slower? Mr. Front Runner still could use a few lessons in pacing, I see.” Brian tipped Justin’s chin up and smiled at him. “Okay?”

Justin smiled back at him sheepishly. “Okay.”

“Good,” Brian told him. “Besides, I have our Europe plans to go over with you. The tickets arrived and everything is set. This time next week you’ll be running your first race in Europe. You, the rest of the musketeers, and two others from the team.”

“Who else did you and Ben pick?” Justin asked as he and Brian headed up the stairs.

“Johnson and Pilcher, they were the best of the rest. I wasn’t crazy about Pilcher but Ben wanted to give him the chance. I hope we don’t regret it.”

Justin frowned. “Me either.”

“At least it won’t be Hobbs. The disciplinary board upheld Ben’s decision. He’s off the team. For good. So that makes one less worry for the fall.”

The two men walked up the stairs arm in arm.

Across town, another man kneeled before his father and accepted his punishment.

As the belt cut into his back, he swore that he would not cry. He didn’t want his sisters to wake up and hear. But it was hard not to make any noise. Twenty. Surely his father would stop?

“How could you let that faggot beat you?”

He couldn’t answer. There was no answer.

“I will do better. Next time.”

“There won’t be a next time for you.”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Surely his father didn’t mean that?

“Did you hear what that disciplinary board at your school decided?”

He took a deep breath and knew what he had to do. He started to explain. He hoped it would be enough to satisfy his father.

 

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