For Love of Justin

Tea and Sympathy, Not to Mention Three Squares a Day

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"We've got a problem." Brian burst into Ben and Michael's apartment without ceremony; also without knocking, startling the handsome professor, who was working at his desk. Recovering his usual calm demeanor proved a challenge as he noted that Brian had flopped down on their sofa, putting his expensive leather boots up on the arm of it. Suppressing his irritation, he comforted himself with the reminder that frequent interaction with his lover's best friend more than made up for missing the trip to Tibet; no monk ever had such an opportunity to practice patience and self-restraint as he did. Looking at the incredible body now stretched out before him, and recalling the one hot encounter they had enjoyed several years before, Ben ruefully acknowledged to himself that exposure to Brian also gave him practice in resisting temptation. He looked up at Brian's face to catch him smirking at him knowingly. He flushed; sometimes he swore the man could read minds.

"I thought we agreed to keep our arrangement between us? I have no problem with it if you've changed your mind, but if you have, tell me. Quite frankly, if you're going to act this way, dropping by unannounced to discuss Justin, Michael is likely to ask questions, so I may as well tell him now. I would prefer he find out about it from me, and sooner is better than him learning about it later by accident," Ben reproved him mildly.

Brian flashed his charming smile. "Not to worry, Professor. Would I be so thoughtless as to drop by about our pet project if there were a chance of Mikey being home?" He laughed as Ben simply raised an eyebrow in reply. "I guess you prefer not to answer that. Smart man. Do you have a beer? I need one because while I may be so thoughtless as to place my boots on your lovely furniture, which looks to be a Big Q close out special and therefore expendable, I am not so thoughtless as to be enjoying my evening beer with Mikey at Woody's, where he is waiting for me. Patiently, I hope. Instead, I am here with you, safe in the knowledge that he will not come barging in on our private discussion."

As Ben showed signs of objecting, Brian quickly added, "not to worry, he isn't alone. I plan better than that. Lindsay is with him, as I also seem, thoughtlessly one would think, on the surface, to have made plans with her for the same time and place. Yet, you, who are privy to my innermost machinations, know that such apparent thoughtlessness, masks only the caring heart of a thoughtful friend. By the time I arrive, if I ever do arrive, they will hopefully have finished discussing their needs for the next issue of Rage, as well as all of their complaints about yours truly, both of which topics bore me to tears and yet seem to entertain the two of them for hours. Thus, I have arranged that they are happily and gainfully engaged, while you and I can talk in peace."

Ben laughed at Brian's smug expression. He loved Michael and Lindsay, but in truth, their mutual obsession with Brian, both the man and the comic alter ego they had created, Rage, did get to be a little tedious as a topic of conversation for everyone except the two of them. He hadn't realized Brian felt that way also. He went to the kitchen to get Brian the requested beer and himself a bottle of water. When he brought them back, he handed the beer to the other man along with a coaster; then gently pushed the Prada boots to the floor. Brian tipped the bottle at him in a salute, and kept his feet on the floor.

"So, our problem. Justin?"

"You got it in one," Brian nodded. "Do you have any idea where he has been living since the semester ended?"

"I didn't really give it any thought. I assume he's staying in the same place he lived during the semester. Summer classes start up again in a couple of weeks and most upperclassmen live in apartments. I knew he lived alone, but again, I assumed …." Ben furrowed his brow, trying to guess what Brian was getting at.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming, Professor," Brian growled. He stood up suddenly and started to pace. "I guess you made the same assumptions about the food plan? It didn't occur to you that both the living quarters and the source of food ended for your full scholarship boy when the semester ended?" Brian watched Ben grow pale as the full impact of what he was saying sank in.

"Fuck! Are you telling me …?"

"That for the past ten days or so Justin has been getting by on what little he's managed to save over the semester and has been living on the streets, yeah that's what I'm telling you. He was trying to hold on until the new semester starts so he can get back into the dorm, where he had a single, and his food plan would kick back in with the sports program in four weeks. That is if the food plan will cover the summer semester, I gather he isn't too sure. Apparently he has been showering in the gym, and making some food money drawing sketches in the park, but he has run out of supplies. He can't get a decent job because he doesn't have decent clothes and because he spends a lot of his time training and working on his art so he can keep his scholarships. So, you have a runner training on next to no food, and fucking little sleep, Coach. No wonder he collapsed on me during our run today. The only wonder is that it hasn't happened sooner! How could you not know this, Ben?" Brian was practically shouting at Ben by the time he finished.

Ben looked guilty as hell. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair as Brian stared at him intently. He was running his mind over the events of the past couple of weeks, searching for clues that he had missed. He finally broke the tense silence in the room, speaking slowly and thoughtfully.

"It's been well over a week since Justin would have lost his housing and meal plan. The last finals were about eight days ago; that's when they stop for the school, not when his last finals were, and nothing ends until then. He would have been able to stay in the University housing until the last day for finals; the same for student meal plans, they continue until all final are over. I hope he knew that. He could have saved up food, planned ahead." Ben was rambling at this point, talking half to himself. He looked up finally, his eyes teary.

"I swear, Brian, I saw no signs of anything being wrong. He always was a bit standoffish, but he talked to me. I encouraged him to tell me if he had any problems. My God, I would have thought he would have come to me about this." Ben buried his face in his hands but Brian could still hear his whispered words. "This is terrible, that I could fail a student so badly. I should have realized something was wrong. I thought he was seeing one of the musicians but they're away on a concert tour so there would be no help there. Even with that, I never saw him with anyone, so I can't be sure he did have a boyfriend, that didn't jive with the other claims of no repeats, now that I think of it. Nothing adds up. Hell, I even heard he went to a few of the year-end parties with George last week, and I thought great, he is getting out of his shell! George said he didn't mingle, fuck, he probably just went for the food. I was so deluded." The swearing was a sign of how distraught the man was, Brian realized; normally, Zen Ben did not curse.

"Get off your guilt trip, Ben. If a kid doesn't want you to know something, there is no way you are going to find it out."

"Then how did you find it out?" Ben asked. "I was around him a lot longer and I should be much better with young people than you! I'm supposed to be a highly qualified professional. Hell, you were with him for one afternoon and you found out all of this. It wasn't just the passing out, he could have explained that away. Didn't you tell me on the phone you even thought it was just dehydration, or simply a matter of not eating enough today?"

Brian looked uncomfortable for a moment, then decided he may as well let Mikey's partner in on his own particular "qualifications" for dealing with troubled youth with secrets to hide.

"When someone, especially a kid, is living with a secret they consider shameful, they become very good at hiding it, Ben. I know with your training you know this here," at these words, Brian tapped his head, "but I know it here," he concluded, tapping his heart.

"It's simply a case of it taking one to know one. I don't know how much Mikey has shared with you of my past, but my dad was not exactly father of the year material. To put it bluntly, he beat the shit out of me on a regular basis. I became an expert at hiding the evidence, the bruises, the sprained ankles and knees that came from being thrown down steps; expert even at coming up with excuses, believable ones, to explain away broken bones. None of your 'I walked into a door' shit for me. If it weren't for Mikey and Deb patching me up, and getting me to the hospital the worst times, I probably would have been taking that secret to the grave, I was so good at hiding the truth."

"No teacher or coach ever guessed? Ben asked quietly.

"Nope. I managed to keep my secret until the day I walked out of Jack Kinney's hellhole on my way to Penn State. You learn ways of masking pain, and avoiding questions. You don't let anyone get too close." Brian laughed mirthlessly. "That was my first slip-up. I couldn't resist this little dark haired kid I saw getting beat up at school. I figured I would stop the bullies from beating on him and that would be the end of it. Instead, I gained a shadow that I couldn't get rid of; you know what a persistent little bugger he can be."

Ben smiled; he had indeed experienced Michael's persistence. Shortly after they first met, he had decided he was not going to risk becoming involved with someone afraid of his HIV positive status. Michael overcame his caution by pursuing Ben with a single-minded, almost foolhardy determination that captured the big man's heart. He would never forget his athletically challenged partner standing in the middle of a basketball court filled with very large, serious ball players, clasping the ball to his rather thin chest, and vowing he would not return it to the immense black man who was demanding it from him until Ben agreed to go out with him.

"Mikey found out about the beatings, which of course meant that Debbie found out; you do know that there is nothing that goes on in his life that his mother does not know about and I mean nothing?" Brian looked at Ben quizzically. Ben could not help rolling his eyes. The lack of privacy was one of the more frustrating facets of life with Michael. He loved Debbie dearly. She had a heart as big as all outdoors, but she did not understand the meaning of the word privacy. Brian laughed at his expression.

"I can see you do know. Anyway, I'm here to talk about Justin's problems, not my sorry past. So there I was, lecturing Justin about proper nutrition while he was wolfing down a dinner the size of which would have put Drew Boyd to shame, and he was correcting me on such details as the exact interaction of potassium and magnesium, which gave me a clue that he was not as stupid as I had every reason to think he was, after today's stunt of training on an empty stomach. So I started to deliberately make subtle mistakes, as did our hostess, since she too picked up on what was going on. It quickly became clear that our young runner was a fucking expert on nutrition. He wasn't eating a soft pretzel for lunch out of stupidity. He couldn't afford more." Brian shook his head, angry at the situation.

"So, remembering my own days as a scholarship student, and how tight money was between semesters, I did a cross examination on his living arrangements that would have made Melanie Marcus proud. He first claimed to be living with a friend, so I offered to take him there once we got back to campus and my car, which is when he recalled that the friend was out of town and he was staying with a different friend. No problem, I told him, I would drive him wherever. He suddenly remembered a project he needed to work on at the library, but when I reminded him that there were no classes, he claimed it was an independent study project. So I pretended to be fascinated by art history or whatever the fuck it was that the project was on. This had him weaving me a detailed story about this so-called independent project research paper, although an hour later, he forgot all about it when I asked him why he didn't need to pick up his research notes before hitting the library, or at the very least some paper and pens to use in order to work on this fictional research project," Brian chuckled as he recalled the young runner's chagrined expression when he ran out of lies.

"Did he finally confess?" Ben asked, a concerned look on his face; he wasn't sharing Brian's amusement.

"I wormed it out of him eventually. He was good, I'll give him that, but he met his match in me. As I said, I know the tricks of the trade. And he isn't used to lying; he's a novice. A country club upbringing doesn't make the kind of life he's living now all that easy to swallow. It isn't easy for anyone, but it has to be even tougher for a kid from his background. I left him at the diner, under Debbie's watchful eye, with strict orders that he wasn't allowed to leave. So, what do we do with him? He still needs to be taught how to run properly, more guts than brains right now, but that has to come second. Right now, he has nowhere to live and nothing to eat. Fuck, he practically needs a babysitter. This is not what I signed up for, Ben." Brian looked at Ben, an eyebrow raised, waiting for a response.

"I know, Brian, and believe me when I say I had no idea of the magnitude of Justin's needs. You're right, I never should have assumed he was okay but feeling guilty is not productive." Ben sat for a moment, deep in thought. He looked up and tentatively suggested, "I don't suppose Debbie could put him up?" As outspoken and interfering as she was, she had raised Michael single-handedly; plus, as Brian acknowledged, she had played a large part in seeing him reach manhood safely as well. She had room in her home now that Michael had moved in with Ben. Knowing Brian, he would contribute something to cover the expense of the young man's board, which would help her financially as well.

Brian shook his head. "Not if you have any hope of his making the Olympics. Don't get me wrong, I love Debbie and she would do it in a second. She was doting on him when I left him, but let's face it, she is Pittsburgh's leading fag hag. America is not ready for a gay athlete as it is, and having him live there, with rainbow pride pouring from every crack and vent in the place, is not a good idea once he starts running up to his potential and the publicity hits. It's the same reason why all of our friends, like Lindsay and Mel, or Emmett and Ted, are out, no pun intended."

"Not even as a temporary measure?" Ben looked frustrated as the ad executive again shook his head decisively. "But Brian, he is gay. It's known already in limited circles and he's adamant he will not go back into the closet. He has good reasons not to after what he went through with the bashing," Ben struggled to keep his voice calm as he pointed out these facts.

Brian smiled, almost to himself. "With that bubble butt of his, I wouldn't dream of trying to put him into a closet, he wouldn't fit! But I happen to think there is a big difference between being gay and shoving it in people's faces. Speaking of which, I really will have to do something special someday to thank you for thinking of me to take care of your little runner boy. Do you know that I had to give the kid a fucking shower to prevent him from getting hypothermia today? Talk about having his gayness, or his bubble butt, practically shoved in your face." Brian leaned back on the sofa and smiled at Ben enigmatically.

"Brian, you didn't." Ben sipped his water serenely, making his words a statement, not a question.

"No, I didn't. Aren't you surprised?" The smirk was back.

"No, I'm not. I never would have asked for your help if I hadn't thought you could be trusted. I would have been surprised if you had taken advantage of Justin under such circumstances as you described to me on the phone. At the same time, situations do develop, and he is a very attractive young man; he's likely to become attached to you. As for you, you're far from a monk." Ben paused, seeking the right words.

"I bet those monks fuck each other like bunnies. If only you had gone to Tibet, you could have gotten the inside scoop for me. Now I'll never know," Brian sighed.

"We'll both have to keep wondering," Ben laughed. He couldn't help but be amused by Brian as often as he was aggravated by him. "But my point is, I trust you to do the right thing when it comes to Justin Taylor. And I also trust that all of this is just a mental exercise on your part. I assume you already have a plan all worked out and were just making sure I couldn't come up with something on my own," Ben cocked his own eyebrow at the chestnut haired man who grinned back at him.

"Now, what did I tell you about ass-uming?"

"Well"

"It just so happens I do have an idea or two. It turns out that the sweet young thing upon whose doorstep Justin collapsed, is one Miss Ellie, all of eighty-one and a horny old thing, married five times, can you believe it? She even pinched my ass a few times today. I think I'm going to be bruised. She lives alone and is not averse to having a gentleman boarder. In fact, her son has been after her to get a man of work to live on the property and do odd jobs, mow the grass, clean out the gutters, empty the cat litter, things of that nature. The great thing is, she lives in this big old house, with plenty of room, out along some nice running trails, and could actually house two runners. My idea was to see if George, that cheery red headed runner, could use a place for the summer also. He would be good company for Justin and help get him more acclimated and keep an eye on him since I can't be with him all the time and he's going to need to do two runs a day until he is stronger. From what I could see, Ellie can afford to feed them and house them and they could do all the work around the place. If a little extra money is needed, I could work something out with her. She would love the company, and the best thing is, it is an exemplary environment for young up and coming athletes to come from, for the time being."

"How would she feel about Justin's orientation?" Ben asked.

Brian smirked. "Not a problem. I can't recall which, but one of her husbands played for our team and he was one of her favorites, from what I can tell. She's a riot. She is also a retired nurse, and despite her rather scatter-brained demeanor, was extremely sensible when the situation warranted it. Runners' quirks don't bother her either and she would be a Godsend for sprained ankles and the other minor injuries that plague runners. I sounded her out when Justin was out of the room and she liked the idea quite a bit. She gets lonely between family visits. Heck, she even has clothes she could loan the kid. I would check her out further before installing him there, of course, but so far, it looks ideal."

"So, when you came in here tonight, you had this all solved?" Ben looked at Brian and shook his head in bewilderment.

"Not at all! I am merely presenting you with a proposal; it is for you to say yea or nay!" Brian tried to look innocent but failed; instead, he looked sheepish. "Actually, I was so floored at first by the situation that, I confess, I wanted you to feel something of what I went through. When he collapsed like that, Ben, I didn't know what to do at first. He looked dead. It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life." The hazel eyes were unwontedly serious as they looked at the other man.

"I understand. He was lucky you were with him. If that had happened any other day, I don't think I would have helped him as quickly or effectively as you did. What if, God forbid, he were alone when it happened? It could have been hours before he was found." Both men sat quietly thinking about the "what ifs." Finally, Brian shook out his shoulders and stood up briskly.

"Well, one problem I have not solved. What the hell do I do with him tonight? He is at the diner and I am supposed to meet with Mikey and Lindz, whom, quite frankly, I am a little too drained to deal with right now."

"I would love to have him here, but as a faculty member, I would be taking a risk, especially as a gay faculty member, with a known gay student. If I meet up with Michael and Lindsay and explain why you are unable to make it, do you think you could arrange for a hotel room for the night?" Ben looked at Brian hopefully, and pulled out his wallet.

"Put your wallet back, Ben. I think I can make this a charitable donation, and we don't want it being traced back to you now do we? It could cost you the Pulitzer someday; don't they have a morality clause? Mine was shot on those grounds ages ago so I may as well take it on the chin for this one, too. But you have to come up with a good excuse for Lindz and Mikey as to why I couldn't make it; no walking into a door shit, I'm telling you, that one never flies." Brian winked at him as he stretched his arms, trying to work out the kinks, then looked around for his jacket. The evening had turned chilly after the thunderstorm.

Ben grinned at him as he pulled on his own leather coat and then tossed Brian's jacket to him.

"Easy, I'll just tell them 'something came up' and you called and asked me to make your apologies. They should believe that one, they've heard it often enough."

"Touché, Professor, touché," Brian said, grinning appreciatively.

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Justin stared in fascination at the huge sundae the red haired woman placed in front of him. So far he had been at the diner for about ninety minutes and in that time she had brought him, "on the house, or on Brian Kinney, whichever comes first, and on Liberty Avenue, Brian Kinney always comes first, last and in-between, if rumors are to be believed," she had laughed, a double cheeseburger, two large chocolate shakes, an extra large helping of fries, a piece of chocolate cream pie, and several squares of lemon bars.

Justin could not believe it, but he actually felt full for the first time in weeks. He had read that someone who hadn't eaten much for a long time should be careful when he did eat again, as he could become ill. Not me, Justin thought gleefully as he packed away the food. He had eaten heartily at Ellie's earlier that day and now he was eating a full meal again. He was in heaven.

"Well, Sunshine, are you feeling better?"

"Mmm, hmm," Justin nodded as he quickly swallowed the last of his lemon bar, his mouth still full of chocolate shake. He loved the combination of chocolate and lemon. His little sister Molly and he used to go to a water ice stand in the summer and get gelati, chocolate soft serve ice cream combined with lemon water ice, a mixture that his mother swore made her teeth ache just to order it. The often repeated complaint made the Taylor children giggle all the harder as they insisted on their treat, forgetting the eight years that separated them in age. He blinked his eyes quickly as he was hit anew with pangs of missing them. His father had forbid his mother and sister from having anything to do with him when he came out. Molly had no choice; she was only eleven when it happened. His mother's rejection was harder to accept. He had tried to understand her explanation. She had Molly to think of, and a woman who had no work experience, who had left college before graduation to give birth to her first child, had no way to support a daughter on her own and had to stay with a homophobic asshole husband who cheated on her even if he made her deny that firstborn child. He supposed she, like Molly, had no real choice, but it still hurt to lose them for something he couldn't help.

"You don't look like your food tastes very good. What are you doing, Deb, giving him the day old lemon bars?" A now familiar, sarcastic voice sounded over his head, making him quickly rub away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

"Brian!" Brian had warned him not to call him Coach in the diner. "No, they're great! I just have allergies that are getting to me a little; it must be the dust in here."

"You hear that, Deb, you've got to dust this place better, it's making the patrons get all watery eyed. Personally, I think it's Kiki's perfume. That stuff is enough to drop an elephant, but far be it from me to say anything to her." This last bit was said in a loud enough voice to travel to the counter where the tall transvestite heard it and cheerfully gave Brian a one-fingered salute in reply. Debbie smacked her new customer lightly in greeting.

"Dust, schmust! About time you showed back up. I was about ready to auction little Sunshine here off to the highest bidder and retire to Boca on the proceeds. With that cute little ass and that smile, I figure I could get a pretty penny!" Debbie cackled at her own joke, as usual, and sat down, to Brian's dismay. He had hoped to pay the bill and make a quick getaway.

"So, where are you two boys off to, tonight and what the hell do you think you're doing with a sweet young boy like this, Brian Aidan Kinney?" Debbie eyed Brian sharply.

"Well, gee, Mom, let me see." Brian looked at Justin and smirked. "This happens to be a young gay boy cast upon the world that I have taken under my wing, purely out of the goodness of my heart. I am going to train him to be a world-class runner and enter him in the Olympics, where he will be the first out of the closet homosexual gold medal-winning runner. But first, now that he is warm and dry, and fed, I am going to take the little darling to a nice hotel room where I am going to tuck him chastely into bed, alone, bidding him adieu until the morning's light when we shall run again."

Debbie got up in a huff. "Well, if you didn't want to tell me, you could have just said 'butt out Deb, it's none of your business,' like you usually do. Here's your check, make sure you remember your long-suffering waitress, emphasis on the suffering. Bye sweetie, don't put up with any of his shit. He gives you any; you come tell me. I'll take care of him for you." With that, Debbie gave Justin a big kiss good-bye, smacked Brian again and stomped off.

Brian smiled at Justin. "When in doubt, tell the truth. It's the last thing they'll ever believe."

"So am I really going to a hotel for the night?" the blond asked quietly.

"Yeah, it'll be fun. Just think, room service, clean sheets, nice big towels, you'll like it." Shit, I sound like I'm talking to a two year old, Brian thought. "Is there a problem?"

"I guess not," Justin answered, looking miserable.

"Come on, we can talk better outside." Brian left a few twenties on the table and led the smaller man outside, one hand at the small of his back. They walked over to his Corvette and Brian opened the passenger door so Justin could get inside. He noticed him shivering and took off his jacket, tossing it to him.

"Put this on, I run hot and don't need it now." Justin snuggled into it gratefully. It fell below his hips and carried the other man's body warmth still. He sighed.

Brian looked over at him before starting the car. He had intended to take him to one of the medium priced hotels near the college, so that his lack of luggage would not be an embarrassment to him. He thought perhaps that was behind his hesitation about a hotel.

Then he recalled the tears that were definitely shining in the younger man's eyes when Brian had first observed him in the booth. Something had been bothering Justin before he mentioned going to a hotel. Fuck, he wasn't good at this kind of thing. Emmett was, and Mikey. Not him.

"You want to tell me what made the dust get in your eyes?" Brian kept his eyes forward as he eased the car into traffic.

"No," was the whispered response.

"Uh huh. How about why you don't want to go to a hotel."

"A hotel would be nice. Thank you." Brian stole a glance over. A tear was making its way down the pale cheek. He blew out his cheeks. Justin looked over, startled. Brian gave a half smile back at him.

"I am not a patient man, Justin, in case you hadn't picked up on that fact, I thought maybe I should mention it to you." Justin stayed quiet.

"Some people who work for me even think I can be a bit of a son of a bitch. You should appreciate the fact that I am using up what is for me about a year's worth of niceness right now and getting nowhere. So, one more time, will you tell me what the fuck is the problem so I can fucking fix it?" As an afterthought, Brian added, "please?"

Justin bit his bottom lip. "I don't want to go to a hotel."

Brian took another deep breath and counted to ten. "Yes, I gathered that. And you are sad. I picked up on that too. What I don't know is why." He sucked in his bottom lip and stole another look over at the blond. "Listen, is it a good reason?"

"It seems so to me." Justin was blinking rapidly at this point. Brian seemed to make up his mind about something as he made an abrupt U-turn, causing Justin to fall against him, despite being belted in the seat.

"Then okay, if you say it's a good reason, that's good enough for me, you don't have to tell me what it is now. I'll just take your word for it. We move on to plan B. We're going to have a strange relationship, Justin Taylor, but I guess in your shoes, I wouldn't have been rushing to tell my story to some stranger like me, either. Shit, you don't know me. Ben will kill me, but you can stay at my place. On the sofa, you got that? No trying any funny business, right?" At that, Brian gave Justin a smirk and Justin smiled back, too relieved to be thinking about the temptations of sleeping in the same place as his sexy coach. Brian, however, was unable to avoid thinking of it. He moaned inwardly, as he pictured in his mind the open layout of his Loft. There would be no way to avoid the young man. One night, that was all it would be. He could handle one night. At least he hoped he could. Damn Ben Bruckner, he thought, for at least the twentieth time that day; he could hardly believe it was still the same day.

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Justin entered the Loft and looked around in amazement. It was sparsely, yet elegantly furnished. It suited the man beside him perfectly. He felt doubly shabby standing there in the borrowed sweatpants and t-shirt from Ellie, but then burrowed deeper into the leather coat Brian had loaned him. In that, he felt he belonged. Brian noticed the gesture and smiled. There was something very endearing about the small blond, not that he would ever consciously admit to such an emotion.

"Still cold? I like to keep it a little cool in here; as I said, I run a little hot. I can get you lots of blankets if you want. I hate to get overheated when I sleep."

"I'm fine. This is much better than where I have been sleeping." Justin flushed as he realized he had given away more than intended. Of course, Brian had pretty much gotten everything out of him earlier and guessed more than he had told him. Still, he didn't like to come right out and admit more than was necessary. He didn't want to look like he was asking for pity.

"I bet," was all Brian said as he walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerator. He tossed one to Justin and drank one himself. Justin found himself fascinated by the play of light on the other man's neck in the semi-dark room as he tilted his long neck to drink. He wished he could draw him. He twisted the cap off his own bottle to give his itching fingers something to do.

Brian put down the bottle and smiled at him. "Are you feeling better yet?" He was delighted to see the brilliant smile that flashed back at him.

"Yeah, much. Thanks. Where do you want me? I can fix up my own bedding. And would you mind if I took another shower to warm up?"

"Wow, two whole sentences! I was beginning to think you were monosyllabic." Justin laughed. He could remember the days when his friends thought he would never shut up. Of course, that was back in the days when he had friends. He shook his head quickly; he was not going to start pitying himself again. He forced another smile. He caught Brian giving him an understanding look. Justin made a concerted effort to talk, to maintain the connection.

"You'd be surprised. A few more days of food and I may work up to three or four sentences at a shot. But by then I'll be working on your 2006 quota of niceness, so maybe I should shut up for now?" He cocked a blond eyebrow at the tall man, who staggered back as though shocked.

"He not only speaks, but I do believe that was an attempt at a joke. A joke at my expense but a joke nonetheless, we shall accept it! Get that bubble butt in the shower, Taylor, you have a run to do tomorrow morning, and another in the afternoon. Until we get some blood work done on you, no more long ones, two shorter ones will have to suffice to get your distance in, so sayeth your coach. And tomorrow or the next day you are moving, so you are my secret roomie for only a day or two at most. For that time, I demand you stay warm and clean. There are towels and spare toothbrushes in the bathroom, which is up those steps and to the left. I'll put out some clean sweats for you. They'll be long but they have elastic at the bottom so you shouldn't trip, and the T-shirt sleeves you can roll up. A long sleeved one for tonight since you are so cold, I think. How about the Philly Distance Run, 1998? A very good year," Brian smiled again.

"Sounds good, but is it okay to wear a shirt you didn't earn?" Justin looked at him seriously.

"Only if you kiss the one who did earn it, and I seem to recall you kissing me earlier, so you have shirt wearing privileges," Brian laughed softly and went up to his dresser to get the shirt. His usual rule was that more than kissing was required to obtain his race shirt wearing privileges but no need to tell the blond that.

"Ahh, I didn't know that corollary to the rule, I will have to remember it," Justin said dryly. Brian shot him a glance and saw the twinkle in the twink's eye. Well, damn if he didn't know the real rule after all, Brian thought. He was going to be quite a challenge once he gets fully restored to health. He heard the shower turn on and tried to resist the temptation to turn and see if the shower door had been left open. Brian had a partially glazed pattern on the large shower that was interspersed with clear glass. It offered tantalizing views from the bedroom if the sliding door was left open. And in fact, in this case, it had been left partially open.

The kid was a born tease, Brian thought admiringly as he watched Justin move back and forth between the panes of clear and glazed glass. He had the toned, firm body of the runner, all lean muscle without an ounce of fat; with those firm full buttocks, perfect for giving him bursts of speed, perfect for grabbing and …. Brian swallowed.

"Shall I leave the water on for you?" Justin called out, poking his head from the shower.

"Uh, no, I'm good, thanks." Though a cold shower may be needed soon, Brian conceded to himself. I should have stopped at Babylon's back room before picking the kid up at the Diner. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants from his dresser, along with the promised shirt and turned back to the bathroom, where Justin was emerging, wrapped in a towel.

"Here are some clothes," Brian said brusquely, tossing the clothes on his bed and leaving before his hard on became too apparent to the young man in his charge.

Justin looked hurt. He ignored the clothes and followed Brian, clad still in the towel.

"Brian, are you mad at me?" He looked over at the older man who was pouring himself a drink from a cart by the window.

"No, just get dressed so you can get to bed and we both can get some sleep." Brian took a large swallow of Beam. Fuck, he could see Justin's reflection in the large window. He should have just taken the kid to a hotel, fuck his tears.

"Justin, please get dressed."

Without a word, the young runner turned and walked back up the stairs. He came back down a few moments later clad in Brian's old sweatpants and race t-shirt, looking about ten years old. The long sleeves were rolled up but still fell over his hands. He sat down on the leather sofa, which Brian had made up with pillows, sheets and blankets. Still, a leather sofa was not the most comfortable place to sleep; for all that it was a comfortable place to sit. It was cold, Brian acknowledged to himself. Justin sat in the corner, his knees drawn up to his chest, and arms wrapped around his legs, blue eyes looking big in his thin face as he stared over at Brian anxiously. His blond hair fell damply on his neck.

"I feel like you're waiting for me to hit you," Brian growled.

"And I feel like I don't know what mood you're going to be in from one minute to the next," Justin spoke up with some spirit. Brian blinked. He walked slowly over to the sofa and sat down next to the other man.

"Well, I can see where that would kind of suck," he said quietly, putting his arm around Justin and pulling him close, letting his body heat warm him up. He could feel how cold he still was despite the shower. He reached for a blanket and tucked it around the blond then pressed his head down on his shoulder.

"Tell me about why hotels are bad, and why you were sad before, and I will try to stop being moody. It has been a long day, a fucking long day." Brian gave him a little shake; he didn't do apologies but that came as close as he ever got to giving one.

Justin bit his bottom lip. It was a habit of his, Brian had noticed. He watched, fascinated and tried not to think about biting that lip himself. He struggled to remember how old Ben had said the kid was; he was at least twenty, wasn't he? He didn't look it but he was pretty sure Ben had said he was a Junior and that he had lost a year, so he had to be twenty or maybe even twenty-one. Brian leaned forward, and almost took Justin's lips into his mouth, but he heard him start to speak and pulled back just in time.

"I have bad associations with hotels. It seems like the worst things in my life have happened at hotels." He paused, but then went on, whispering, "I lost my family at a hotel. That sounds stupid, but that is how it feels. My mother made reservations to meet me at that big nice hotel in the center of the business district, the Windmore. I went up to her room. It was when I was still at PIFA. I had talked to her and Dad when I was home for Thanksgiving my Sophomore year and told them I was gay. I did it on Saturday. It took me that long, from Wednesday to Saturday to get up the nerve to tell them."

Justin laughed softly at himself, the sound falling somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. Brian's stomach muscles clenched. He knew this story all too well and it never ended happily in any of the versions he had heard. It was why he had never told his parents. They had never needed a reason to hate him as it was. Why give them more ammunition?

"Dad flipped out. Mom had to pull him off of me. She was crying and Molly, that's my little sister, she was screaming 'Daddy is killing Justin.' It was not a pretty scene. My Grandparents were there and Granddad, he has Alzheimer's, you see, he kept saying, 'why is Craig trying to hurt that boy who looks like Justin,' while Grandma was saying 'stop it Craig, the neighbors will hear.' It would have been funny if it didn't hurt so much. Dad, Craig, he broke a couple ribs of my ribs. I had a few sprains and strains, bruises and cuts, the usual, but all things considered, I got off pretty light. My dad is a lot bigger man than I am, you see."

Brian's hands were balled into fists. He made himself relax them and pulled the young man closer, onto his lap, tucking the boy's head beneath his chin. Justin's voice was calm but tears were running down his face, seemingly unnoticed by him. Brian rubbed them away with his thumb. He interjected a quiet comment in a low voice as he rubbed the younger man's back soothingly.

"Sounds to me like he is a pretty small man, Sunshine." Justin gave a genuine laugh at that, but continued with his bitter tale.

"After he finally stopped, Mom told me she thought I should move my plane reservation up to that evening and head back to school early. She promised she would come see me the next weekend 'to discuss things.' That's when I met her at the hotel and she told me that Craig had given her an ultimatum: she could choose her marriage or me. I was nineteen and Molly was only eleven, she still needed a family, she told me. And my mom didn't have any way of supporting her without my dad. She left me in that hotel room with a check to cover my expenses for the rest of the school year, those not covered by my scholarship. My father had disowned me. My grandfather had given her the check, he felt sorry for that boy his son had hurt. It seems that 'poor boy' reminded him of his grandson. The one he used to have." Justin choked back a sob at that point.

"Fuck them," Brian whispered, "they don't deserve you. And when your sister is older, you'll get her back. When you're a superstar runner. And a superstar artist. Fuck it, you can even support your mother, if you want to forgive her, though I wouldn't." He tipped Justin's face up to his. "You're going to make it without them, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But sometimes it just gets hard to be alone, you know?"

"So who the fuck is alone? I thought we had a deal, we're running buddies now, although if you tell anyone and ruin my stud reputation, I'll have to kill you and hide the body."

"As long as you don't let me die a virgin," Justin joked. He caught his breath as he glanced up and saw the intent look in the brunet's eyes.

"Not a chance of that, Sunshine," Brian whispered, just before bending his head to suck that plump red bottom lip into his mouth. He really had resisted for as long as he could, and what harm could one kiss do, between friends?

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