Day 1 - Broke Down

A/N: All car info from my brother, Art, a classic car buff. There really is a place in NJ that has parts for a car like Justin's old Packard. Also, Western PA has a distinct accent and the word "grandpap" that Justin uses is a common term.

The music was loud, as usual, and the dance floor was crowded with hot young male bodies, also as usual. Justin was getting more than his share of looks and propositions, but didn't care about the former and declined the latter. The clubs were all pretty much alike, full of men, music, booze and backrooms. Fuego just happened to be in San Antonio.

"Come on, Amigo," Ernesto said, giving Justin a little shove toward the good looking, dark haired man who was eyeing him. "He's cute."

"Uh huh," Justin murmured without much enthusiasm and took another drink of his beer. The cute guy walked away in hopes of finding someone a little more fun.

"Where's that hot guy who used to burn up the dance floor at Babylon?" Justin just stared at him. "Okay, I give up. You are officially a party pooper."

"No. I'm just not into backrooms and one night stands anymore."

"What are you interested in?"

Justin sighed. "I'm not sure, but I know I'll know it, or him, when I see him. He's been in my head for a long time and I know he's out there."

"But in the meantime you can't live like a monk, my pale friend. The music's too hot to just stand here. Let's go." Ernesto grabbed Justin's hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.

Justin left San Antonio just after five on a rainy Friday evening. He enjoyed his reunion with his friend from PIFA and he would have loved to have stayed a few days longer, but he promised Daphne he would be in Phoenix before Monday and a thousand miles was a lot of road, even if it was an interstate. Maybe it being an interstate made it even worse. There was just mile after mile of road with no streetlights, no pedestrian crossings, no hot young guys walking down the street showing off their assets in tight jeans. "Whoa, boy," Justin said aloud. "Let's not go too far with that thought. We're driving here, remember." He smiled and reached for his bottle of water. "Besides, Granpap would be very upset if I wrecked his car, well my car.

The big old Packard moved easily down the wet highway. Justin almost looked small in the spacious interior that was common in the older cars, before the words compact and subcompact came into usage. He could still remember, as a child, sitting on his grandfather's lap behind the steering wheel and pretending to drive.

"Come on, Little J," his granpap would say. "Let's go for a spin in the old Packard." And off they'd go. Of course, his feet couldn't reach the pedals and the car never went very from the dirt road in front of the farmhouse, but he felt important then.

"Someday, Little J, this car will be yours and you can drive it all over the country. You'll have such adventures and meet lots of interesting people. Perhaps even the love of your life."

"Granpap, eww. Gross. I'm never getting married. Girls are icky."

"We'll see. You are a little young just yet to think about such things."

Later on, Justin began to realize he was different; that he didn't look at girls the same way his friends did. His grandfather still kidded him about finding the love of his life and that he should follow his heart in that matter and not worry what others thought or said. Along about his sixteenth birthday, Justin understood what his wise, loving grandfather was saying. Somehow, he knew his grandson's secret and it didn't matter to him.

Granpap Andersen always brought a smile to Justin's face. As far back as Justin could remember, his grandfather would say what he meant, and "damned be to anyone who didn't like it." He was honest and funny and fiercely loyal to his family and Justin loved him. He was one of the few people who stood by a seventeen year old Justin when he 'came out' to his family. He told Justin, "I don't understand it, Kid, men liking men that way, but if that's who my favorite grandson is, then it's up to me to live with it. Don't let the rest of those damned narrow minded people get you down. Remember, I'm only a phone call or bus ride away." And he always was. Right up until he died last year at the ripe old age of 92.

The rain had let up a little, but the extra strain of driving the wet road was causing Justin's neck and shoulders to ache. Besides, it had been hours since he ate and he was getting hungry. A truck stop sign loomed up ahead and he exited the highway and pulled in among the other cars and trucks. Make that the other car and many, many trucks. He'd never seen so many pick-up trucks in one spot outside a car dealership in his entire life. He was almost afraid to enter the restaurant, surely a hangout for the local rednecks. He knew there was no way he could pass for straight like some gays, and he'd had his share of run-ins with homophobic assholes, but, all in all, really tried to avoid those situations. His growling stomach, sore muscles and the setting sun took over any fear he had. He made sure his wallet was in his pocket, carefully locked the car and pocketed the keys.

"Granpap, I hope you're with me right now." He took a deep breath and entered the noisy room. Few took notice of him, he was happy to see, although a few conversations did stop as he walked by. He slipped into a booth and picked up a menu from the holder. Diner food was always the same, whether in Pittsburgh or Texas. He ordered a BLT, usually a safe bet as long as the bacon was crisp and the toast wasn't burnt, and a coke, then headed for the restroom. He was a little dismayed to see two burly truck drivers at the urinals. Deciding he wanted a little privacy, he opted for one of the stalls.

"Hey, Bo," Justin heard one of the men say.

"What, Earl?"

"You ever see any of them sissy boys around here?"

"Can't say as I have, Earl. Why ya askin'?"

"I think we got us one."

"Ya don't say."

"Yep."

Justin flushed the toilet and took a deep breath. His grandfather always told him to face his fears and he wasn't about to stay in the stall forever. With a little smile, he opened the door and sashayed to the sink. "Evening, men," he said, as the water ran over his hands. "How's the food here? I sure hope it's as good as it smells. I've been driving a while and I'm starving." He watched the soap bubbles swirl down the drain then pulled a few paper towels from the holder. As he dried his hands, he turned to the two men. "So, how's the food? You never answered me."

"Uh, fine," the one with 'Earl' written on his blue shirt pocket said, a little taken aback at the brashness of the younger man.

"Apple pie's good," added Bo. "Homemade."

"I love homemade apple pie. Thanks for the tip. I'll try it." Justin walked out of the room with just a little extra sway in his hips and took a deep breath once the door closed behind him. His meal was waiting when he got back to the booth. It must have just been delivered because the perfectly toasted bread was still warm and a chip of bacon on the plate said that the bacon was nice and crisp. He ordered coffee and a piece of the warm apple pie for dessert and was pleased to find it one of the best he had ever eaten. After he paid the tab, he walked by the booth occupied by Bo, Earl and two other flannel clad men.

"Earl, Bo, I'm so glad I ran into you again. The pie was as delicious as you said. Thanks." He gave one of his best smiles and walked toward the door, only imagining the looks on the four men.

Brian leaned against his tow truck, sipping from a cold bottle of Dr Pepper he had just gotten from the vending machine. It had been a long day and he was anxious to get home, although spending Friday night at home was not what he had in mind. He looked at the sky, wondering how soon the rain would start. The unseasonably warm morning had only gotten warmer as the day wore on. It was probably just as well that he didn't have to drive the sixty miles to Scheffield's estate. At that thought, he smiled and shook his head. What was he thinking? He'd drive there in a blinding snow storm if he had to.

"See ya Monday, Boss," Charlie, his mechanic said. "Thanks for being on call for me tonight and this weekend. Pamela Sue doesn't usually get weekends off and, well, you know." Brian smiled and waved to Charlie as he got into his old Mustang and sped off to his waiting wife. Brian shuddered, thinking about what the "you know" might entail.

Brian put the last of the tools away, washed his hands and face and changed his t-shirt. Since his plans for the night were effectively canceled, he decided to stop at the small café in town before heading home. Lindsay was working tonight. They had been friends since grade school and knew each other's innermost secrets.

"Hey, Bri," Lindsay greeted from behind the counter. "What'll it be? Meatloaf is good tonight."

Brian leered at her as she laughed. "Just my usual turkey sandwich and a side salad. Make that to go. How about a cup of coffee while I wait, too."

"You got it. Thought you were going out of town this weekend. You're going to get a late start."

"I was going out of town, Linds. But Pam has some extra days off, so…"

"You thought you'd take call so Charlie and his bride could have the time together. You old softie."

"Yeah. Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold in this one horse town." He added sugar to the cup of coffee Lindsay placed before him. "How's my son? Over the sniffles yet?"

"Almost good as new. Next time he gets sick, you get to take care of him. Sick men of any age are just babies. He's so pathetic, just like his daddy."

"What? You're calling me pathetic?"

"You are and if the shoe fits…I seem to remember a dreadful two day hospital stay when you had your appendix out and the week that followed while I nursed you back to health."

Brian laughed as Lindsay went to get his sandwich. He finished his coffee just as Lindsay brought his takeout.

"I put a couple of those chocolate walnut brownies in there just in case you get a craving," she said as he took the bag. Before he could say anything, Lindsay added, "Don't forget how well I know you, Buster. I saw you eat three of these brownies at the Fourth of July picnic last summer, even though you were hiding behind that statue."

"Okay, you caught me, but I'll deny it to anyone who asks and you better do the same."

Lindsay held up her right hand and crossed her heart with her left. "I swear. That'll be four-eighty. Oh, you're going to be at Claire's for Sunday dinner, aren't you? I mean, since you're going to be in town."

"I'm always there, you know that. I'm anxious to see Gus." Brian gave her a twenty and left. He was looking forward to seeing his son. Being gay, he never thought much about being a father, but along came Gus, and he knew the moment those little fingers wrapped around his finger that it would be like that forever.

The '71 'Vette easily gained speed on the back road to his house. He made sure he didn't go too far over the speed limit, but just as he came around the last curve, flashing lights appeared behind him and a siren warned him to pull over. He groaned aloud and slowed down, pulling off the road. He turned off the engine and rolled down the window.

The police vehicle pulled in behind him and the officer got out, making a big deal of checking the license plate, tires and lights. He then checked the front window for the inspection sticker and registration. Satisfied all was in order, he approached the driver side window. "You know the drill, Brian, license, registration and proof of insurance."

"Sam, nothing's changed in the past week." The officer just stood there with his hand out and Brian handed him the papers along with a poorly suppressed sigh.

"You were speeding again."

"I was only doing fifty-eight."

"Speed limit's fifty -five. You know that."

"Aren't speed traps supposed to be for tourists, not locals?"

"Don't see no tourists about. Got you though," Sam deadpanned as he handed Brian the ticket. "You can pay Clarice on Monday, same as always."

"Sam, when are you going to get over the fact that I was made captain of the football team in high school and not you? Don't you think eleven years is long enough? You're married to my sister for Christ's sake. You really enjoy this little weekly ritual of yours, don't you?"

Sam saw no need to actually answer Brian's question. He figured it was probably rhetorical anyway. "Nice doing business with you, Brian. See you at Sunday dinner. Oh, and watch your speed." The officer tipped his hat and walked slowly back to the SUV, grinning. Oh, how he loved Fridays.

Less than a quarter of a mile later, Brian turned into his driveway and parked under the carport. Despite the usual summer heat and desert like quality of the area, Brian had a large number of trees and shrubs growing around his house. He just made sure he found plants that were hardy and drought resistant, read up on xeroscaping and went to work. From the road, you could barely see the house, which was one of Brian's objectives. Besides shading the house, it increased his privacy and he was all about privacy.

Just as he got out of the car, a loud clap of thunder exploded overhead and a heavy spring rain started falling. "Just in time," he said to himself as he hurried inside. He set the bag of food on the kitchen counter and made sure his mobile phone was on in case anyone had trouble in this rain. He pulled off his shirt as he walked into the bedroom.

As the cool rain pounded the roof and windows of the secluded house, the steaming water of the shower pounded the hard muscles of Brian's body. His lanky frame belied the level of fitness years of hard work had achieved. Brian was proud of his body, as well he should be.

Small bubbles of soap caressed his skin and disappeared down the drain. He was thinking of his failed plans for the weekend. Marcus Scheffield was successful, which translated to rich, gorgeous and gay. Every month or so he hosted a weekend "party" of personally invited guests who could dine on delicious food, swim in an indoor heated pool or, if they were so inclined, have sex in any one of a number of well appointed rooms. Brian had met him when he came through town one day several years ago and stopped at his shop complaining of strange sounds coming from the engine of his Jag. He was leery of trusting his car to a no name, small town mechanic, but Brian proved to be up to the task in more ways than one and ever since then, he was a frequent visitor to the estate. He would drink twelve year old scotch and have his pick of the men. He never had fantasies of meeting the love of his life there. It was sex, pure and simple, one time and usually no repeats. That's how he liked it.

He didn't realize how long he had been standing under the warm water until it turned cold. He got out, toweled himself dry and put on a pair of well worn jeans and a t-shirt. The news was just coming on as he sat on the sofa with a cold beer and the salad and sandwich from the diner. It had been a long day and the news was the same old stuff of murder, mayhem and political scandal. He set the partially eaten sandwich back into the carton on the coffee table next to the empty salad bowl, fluffed up one of the sofa pillows and put his feet up. He was soon asleep.

An hour or so after Justin left the truck stop, the sky opened up and the rain started falling. "Oh, great," he said as the windshield wipers swooshed away the water. He put his foot on the brake to slow down on the slippery road and was surprised when nothing happened. He pumped the brake pedal and finally slowed down enough to pull off the road. "Now what?" he sighed. He pushed the brake pedal and it went all the way to the floor board. "Swell." He peered out the window at the pouring rain, wondering how close he was to the nearest town. He couldn't see any lights or signs, but he wasn't sure whether that was because of the heavy rain or the fact that he was in the middle of nowhere, and there just weren't any lights or signs. He pulled his cell phone from the backpack, but when he turned it on, nothing happened. The battery was dead.

He sat there for almost a half hour, during which time not one other car passed him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he saw the red and blue flashing lights of a police car pulling up behind him.

The officer walked up to the window just as Justin was rolling it down. "I'm sure glad to see you, Officer." The rain was running off the plastic covered hat the officer wore.

"Is something wrong, young man?"

"No brakes. I've been sitting here for quite a while. How close is the next town?"

"Couple of miles down the road. Can I see your license, registration and insurance card?" The officer scanned the papers and handed them back to Justin. "How 'bout I call a tow truck for you, Mr. Taylor? It's a small town, but we have the best mechanic around. Not sure what he can do for your car though. Packard, huh? Don't see many of these 'round here."

"I guess not. Not too many on the road nowadays. Thanks for the help." Justin watched the officer as he ran back to his car, thankful that it was a cop that stopped to help.

Brian was startled awake by the ringing of the phone. His half eaten sandwich sat on the table next to an almost full bottle of now warm beer. He grabbed the phone, stretching the kinks out of his sore muscles as he moved. "Kinney."

"Hey, Brian, Sam here. Got a job for you." Sam explained where he was and Brian said he'd be there in about fifteen minutes. Sam braved the rain once more to tell Justin that a truck would be there shortly and to make sure the young man was okay. The rain had slackened to heavy mist by then. "He should be here in 'bout fifteen, twenty minutes. You need anything else right now?"

"No thanks."

"I'll go back to my car, but I'll wait until the tow truck gets here unless I get a call."

Fifteen minutes later a tow truck pulled up in front of the Packard and the door opened. Justin could see a tall figure in the misty glow of the lights. His movements were almost graceful as he walked back toward the car. This was surely not what Justin was expecting from a redneck mechanic and for that he was extremely grateful. Justin got out of his car and walked toward the man just as Sam approached.

"Mr. Taylor, this is Brian Kinney, our mechanic."

"Just Justin, please," he said as he put his hand out.

"Hello, just Justin," Brian said. He extended his hand in greeting. As their hands touched, a jolt of electricity coursed through each man. Neither one wanted to let go, but knew they had to. "Nice car." Brian lifted the clipboard he was holding, not believing that was all he could think of to say at the moment. What he wanted to do was smooth the wet hair away from the beautiful blue eyes of the young man standing in front of him. The lights from the truck seemed to cast a golden glow about the young man. Brian collected his thoughts. "I have some paperwork to fill out, but why don't you get into the truck where it's dry and we'll do that later. I will need to see your registration and insurance card. Let me get the car hooked up and we'll be on our way, okay?"

Justin nodded and got his backpack from the car and handed the papers to the mechanic.

"Pennsylvania. You're pretty far from home."

"Yeah," Justin said, giving a little laugh.

Brian opened the door of his truck and watched as his passenger climbed in. It was all he could do to keep from 'helping' him with a gentle hand to the well endowed, jean clad ass. Once Justin was settled, he closed the door and set about doing his work.

Sam pulled the police car up beside him. "Need me anymore? Old Mrs. Toliver thinks she heard a prowler, again. She probably just baked some cookies and wants a little company, but I have to go check."

"No. Got it covered. Thanks, Sam," he waved and watched as the police car sped off toward town.

Brian finally settled into the driver's seat and started the truck. He pulled a towel from a crate behind his seat and handed it to the beautiful blond in the passenger seat. "Here. You'll get cold if you don't dry off a little." He saw the other man hesitate. "Don't worry, it's clean."

Justin smiled and took the towel and ran it over his hair and face. "Thanks. That does feel better. Your turn," he said, handing the towel back. Brian's wet t-shirt clung to his body, accentuating the strong arms and broad chest. Justin felt it all through his body as the electricity coursed through him.

In the dim light of the truck cab, Brian could see the sparkle in the smile and the clear blue eyes of his passenger. He felt that familiar feeling in his groin and decided that being on call tonight wasn't such a bad thing after all.

The two men sat in silence for a while as Brian drove into town. The rain had finally stopped but the sky was still mostly overcast and there was a decided chill in the air. The truck heater felt good against the damp cold. Brian broke the silence by asking what was wrong with the car. Justin told him about the brakes. "Could be low on fluid or the master cylinder is bad. You're lucky it didn't happen somewhere where you could have been hurt." A few lights in the distance indicated that they were coming into town. Brian took the first exit off the interstate, made a few more turns and pulled into the stony lot in front of his garage. "Here we are. Come on, get out and I'll unhook the car."

Justin watched the practiced moves as Brian quickly let the car down. There was enough light from the streetlights for Justin to see Brian's muscles ripple under the damp t-shirt as he moved. "It'll be safe here for the night. I'll check it out tomorrow and see what's needed. Probably won't be able to do anything until Monday though. Go ahead and get whatever you need for tonight out of the car."

Justin opened the back door and leaned in to get his bag. He turned around in time to catch the mechanic checking him out. "Is there a motel around here? I know it's kind of late."

Brian didn't seem the least bit embarrassed at being caught staring. "Motel closed the beginning of the year. Owner died and no one's taken it over yet. No big deal. We don't get much tourist traffic. Um, you're welcome to come back to my place with me."

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Justin said, although he was thinking that would be exactly what he wanted to do.

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. You could sleep in the car tonight." Just then the sky lit up wit a flash of lightning, followed a few seconds later with a loud clap of thunder. Brian watched with amusement the look that came across the younger man's face.

"Your house, it is. Besides, I haven't filled out the paperwork yet."

"Yeah, can't forget the paperwork. Do you need anything else from the car?"

Justin shook his head then changed his mind, grabbing his messenger bag.

"Come on, then before the rain starts again." Brian placed the bags in the small trunk of the Corvette as Justin got into the passenger side. "Nice car. A little small, isn't it? It can't be very practical for the desert."

"It gets me where I need to go around town. I have a 4-wheel drive Jeep for the adventurous stuff. So, where are you headed?"

"Phoenix. My friend lives there."

"Friend? Close friend?"

Justin smiled. "Very close. We've known each other for ages."

"Mm." Brian stared straight ahead, trying no to let his disappointment show. He so hoped this gorgeous blond wasn't with anyone. "So, you live in Pennsylvania. Sort of a long distance relationship, isn't it?"

Justin was staring out the side window, trying not to give away his secret. "Sort of. How about you, anyone here that will mind my barging in this late?"

"No one will mind." Maybe the long distance friend wasn't what he thought. Maybe he was just a friend. Brian's hopes for the night were looking up.

"You bring home strays often?"

"Occasionally," Brian offered, not wanting to give out too much information. "I live alone. Kind of like it that way."

"Oh." Justin wondered exactly what that meant but put it out of his mind. "You keep looking in the rearview mirror like you're expecting someone to be following us. Is everything okay, or should I be worried?"

"Don't worry. It's just that the local cop has it in for me, I guess you could say. He stops me for doing two miles over the speed limit." Brian shook his head.

"You mean Sam from the highway? He seemed pretty nice."

"Yeah, Sam from the highway. I think I've personally paid for the new SUV over the past few years."

Justin laughed. "He said you were the best mechanic around."

"He did? Well, he's right."

"Then my car is in good hands." Justin imagined those hands wandering over his body. A slight shiver went through him.

"We're here."

"We're where? I don't see a house." He looked around and saw only shrubs and trees, an unexpected difference from the surrounding desert.

"I like my privacy and I have a great gardener."

"It's like an oasis."

"That was the plan." As he pulled into the secluded driveway, a few large drops of rain hit the windshield. Brian retrieved that bags from the car and unlocked the front door. "Come on in." He turned on a table lamp and set the bags on the floor. A loud clap of thunder muffled the sound of the door closing. "We made it just in time."

"I though this was the desert. It's not supposed to rain this much here, is it?"

"It's a little wet right now, but in a few months, we'll be begging for rain. Would you like something to drink or eat? I could make you something."

Justin saw the opened bottle of beer and partially eaten food on the table as he sat down on the sofa. "Um, if you have another beer, that would be great. If not, anything."

"Two beers, coming right up." Brian picked up the old food and carried to the kitchen. Justin heard the refrigerator door open and close then what sounded like a paper bag. Brian returned with the beers and a small plate with chocolate brownies on it. He opened each bottle and handed one to his guest. Justin's hand brushed Brian's fingers as they held the cold glass. Again, both men felt the charge as hand touched hand.

Justin held onto the bottle just as Brian let go. He took a long drink, hoping his heart would slow down and the pounding in his ears would stop. He didn't know that Brian was having the same difficulties.

"I thought you could use a snack, too. They're really good. And, no, I didn't make them. A friend did. I'm going to put on a dry shirt so make yourself at home. It's small, but I like it."

As Brian left the room, Justin remembered his dead phone. "Oh, Brian," he said loud enough for the other man to hear in his bedroom.

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I charge my phone? It's dead. I'm lucky Sam came by when he did or I'd still be sitting on the highway."

"Help yourself. There's an open outlet by the brown chair."

"Thanks." He got the phone and charger from his bag and found the outlet. Once the phone was charging, he took another drink of beer then broke off a piece of the brownie and popped it into his mouth, savoring the taste of the rich chocolate. As he ate, he looked around and took in the space with an artist's practiced eye. He wasn't sure what he expected from the home of a small town mechanic, but this wasn't it. The house was spotless. There were two framed photos sitting on a side table. Justin picked them up and examined them closer. One was of a baby wrapped in a blue blanket and wearing a little blue cap with a white pom-pom on top. He was being held by a pretty woman with blonde hair. The other was of an older child, probably four years old, but recognizable as the same child. He wondered who it was, noting the resemblance to Brian. Brian padded silently from the bedroom and stood behind the younger man. "That's my son. His name's Gus."

Justin jumped at the sound of Brian's voice. "I didn't mean to snoop. They were sitting right there."

"It's okay. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know. It happens all the time. I get so involved in stuff, concentrating so hard, that an airplane could land on my roof and I wouldn't hear it. You have a son?" Justin sat the pictures down on the table.

"Yeah. His mom's an old friend of mine. She made the brownies. Her name's Lindsay. That's her holding him right after he was born. He lives with her in town here. I see him fairly often, almost every day, in fact. He's a great kid." He saw Justin's confused look. "Yes, I'm gay. It's a long story."

"I didn't mean to pry."

"No problem. Sit down." Both men sat on the sofa. "You'll probably be here for the weekend unless you want to catch a bus to Phoenix and pick up your car on the way back."

"Maybe."

Brian's heart sank with that one word. He was looking forward to having this houseguest for a few days.

Justin yawned, covering his mouth. "Sorry. It's been a long day."

Brian stood. "Sure, for me, too. Let me get you a pillow and blanket." Brian pointed toward the hallway. "Bathroom's first door on your right. Towels and such are on the shelf. Can't miss 'em. Use whatever you need. If you want to shower tonight, go right ahead."

"I'm so tired. I think I'll just brush my teeth and go to bed."

When Justin came out of the bathroom he was holding his shirt and his jeans were unbuttoned, showing his pure white Calvins. He was surprised to see Brian tucking a sheet under the sofa cushion. "Oh," he said, startled, trying to cover his bare chest.

Brian stared at the pale, perfect skin. "Just thought I'd be a good host and make up your bed. Sorry I don't have a mint to put on your pillow," he said lamely.

"I'll get over it, but you won't get a four star rating."

Brian saw the bright smile and felt a stirring in his jeans and knew he had to get out of there before something happened. "I'll just be in there," he said, indicating the closed door of his bedroom. "See you in the morning."

"In the morning. Okay."

"It's pretty comfortable. You should sleep well." Brian walked slowly to his bedroom.

"I'm sure I will." Justin stood by the sofa.

"The thunder gets pretty loud out here." Brian had his hand on the doorknob.

"I don't think it will keep me awake." Justin sat down and picked up the pillow.

"I usually wake up early. I'll try not to bother you." Brian pushed the door open.

"I'm an early riser, too." Justin fluffed the pillow and set it back against the arm of the sofa.

"Good. See you in the morning."

"In the morning."

Brian closed the bedroom door and Justin turned off the lamp. They each lay in their respective beds, minds wandering to the person in the other room.

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