Taxed To the Max
Feet slapped against the treadmill – rhythmic and constant. Sweat poured off his
brow and down his back. His breathing was raspy and labored. His heart pounded
in his chest.
But Brian Kinney pressed on. He forced his feet to keep the consistent rhythm,
even though they wanted to slow down, wanted to stop. His lungs felt like they
were going to explode. His throat was raw from breathing through his mouth.
And still he ran.
He glanced down at the gauge that said how far he’d gone. Eleven miles. That was
more than he had ever done, but it wasn’t enough. He was going to do twelve if
it killed him. And it just well might.
Brian ran on hoping he would pass that mythical wall that he had heard about. If
he could run long enough and hard enough, he wouldn’t have to think. If he could
tax his body to the limit, he wouldn’t have to feel. If he could exhaust every
aspect of his being, he could make his mind a blank. Then maybe he could sleep.
As soon as that realization hit Brian, his mind went into overdrive. He had seen
Justin several times in the last few days, and that was not a good thing. As
much as he enjoyed looking at his former lover, it caused nothing but problems
afterwards.
He hadn’t been sleeping. There were unwanted dreams featuring someone with a
slim body and blond hair.
He hadn’t been very productive at work. His mind kept wandering to thoughts of
hurt blue eyes staring at him.
He hadn’t been enjoying Babylon. As many blowjobs and fucks as he got, they only
served to remind him of someone who did those things much better.
He hadn’t been able to get drunk enough to forget. At the bottom of every glass
was a megawatt smile that mocked him.
Brian ran on. If only…
After another mile, gradually Brian began to slow down and finally stopped the
treadmill. He leaned on his knees gasping for breath, covered in sweat and
unwanted memories. He wiped his brow with the palm of his hand and headed for
the shower.
Hot water sluiced down his body as he just stood there letting the water wash
away the tiredness. At least that was the theory he was working with. Too bad it
didn’t seem to turn out the way he hoped.
Brian’s mind headed to another unwanted place. How much was a man supposed to
endure? How much could he take and still put on the smug face that he presented
to the world? He was Mr. Cool, never rattled, never upset. To all who saw him he
appeared to be able to handle anything. At least that’s what he wanted the world
to think. If only that was true…
That fucking nephew of his – he truly was demon spawn. It had hurt Brian,
wounded him, when John had accused him of molesting him. The little shit had
stolen from him, had taunted him. Sticking John’s head in the toilet was nothing
compared to what he really would have liked to do to the little asshole.
But Johnny had got his revenge. He had told Claire that Brian had molested him.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it. The worst was when his sister and mother
believed it – without question. There was no benefit of the doubt, no possible
assumption that John could be lying, just condemnation for Brian. That was his
fucking family for you!
Brian turned off the water and got out of the shower, reaching for one of his
towels. The shower hadn’t helped his attitude. At least he didn’t stink anymore,
but there was another kind of stench attached to him in the eyes of the world.
No amount of hot water was going to wash that away.
Brian dried off, still wondering what he was going to do about John’s
accusations. His life was a fucking mess.
He pulled on some old jeans, well worn and comfortable. Even they didn’t feel as
good as they usually did. With a sigh he donned a white wifebeater. He headed
for the bar cart, where he poured himself a Beam.
He had just taken his first sip when the buzzer went off.
“Fuck!” Brian muttered. He walked over to the intercom. The last thing he wanted
was to see Michael or Emmett, or worst of all Debbie. “What?” he barked into the
speaker.
“Um, Brian, it’s me Justin. I’ve got something to tell you,” came the hesitant
reply.
Well this was the last thing he had expected. “Come up,” Brian stated pushing
the buzzer to release the door. He pulled the loft door back and leaned against
it as he waited for Justin to appear. He couldn’t help but wonder what Justin
could be doing there. Brian needed to get his game face on. He leaned
nonchalantly against the doorframe as he waited for Justin to arrive. Better to
keep Justin on the landing than let him inside. Brian wasn’t sure he could
control himself if Justin was inside the loft. He adjusted his jeans at the
thought.
A blond head appeared in the stairwell.
“Hey,” Justin said with a smile as he came up the final step.
“Hey,” Brian replied. Why the fuck did the kid have to smile like that? “You
have something to tell me?” Brian asked getting right to business. He tried to
keep his voice calm and aloof.
“Something to tell you and something to give you,” Justin replied with another
one of those smiles.
Brian managed to stifle the groan that wanted to escape. He merely raised an
eyebrow to ask for an explanation.
“This is yours,” Justin said. He held Brian’s cowry shell bracelet in the open
palm of his hand.
“Where did you get that?” Brian asked with a frown.
“It seems that it was one of the things that your nephew stole from the loft.”
“How…?”
“I did a little investigating,” Justin said with a grin. “Carl confronted John
at your sister’s house. Debbie and I were there.”
“And…?”
“John finally confessed that he took the bracelet and some other stuff from the
loft. He also admitted that you didn’t molest him.”
“I can’t believe he would…” Brian said. This was more than he could ever have
hoped for.
“He really didn’t have much choice,” Justin said. “Let me put this back where it
belongs.”
Brian held out his arm while Justin tied the leather strap of the bracelet
around his wrist. He didn’t give a fuck about the bracelet, but if what Justin
said was true, maybe things were looking up. Wearing himself out might have had
some positive consequences, however unexpected.
“There,” Justin said with satisfaction as he tucked the ends of the leather in
around Brian’s wrist.
Brian wondered if Justin felt the same little pings of electricity as they
touched each other that he did. Probably not.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your boyfriend?” Brian asked.
“That’s what I’m doing.” Justin’s sincere blue eyes stared back at him, willing
Brian to understand what he had just said.
Brian studied the face that looked up at him. “Are you saying what I think
you’re saying?”
“I am if that’s what you want,” Justin said with another of those smiles.
Brian hesitated for a fraction of a second before he pulled Justin into his arms
and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.
“Did you miss me?” Justin whispered when Brian finally let him come up for air.
“Not at all.”
Justin laughed, and Brian thought that was the best sound he’d heard in weeks.
He grabbed Justin’s hand and pulled him into the loft. He had tried to wear
himself out on the treadmill. Now he could do the same, but in a much different
and much more satisfactory manner. He yanked the loft door closed and locked it,
before pinning Justin against it with another kiss full of hunger and want.
He hadn’t missed Justin at all. He’d show the lad just how much he hadn’t missed
him … all night long. And when he had taxed every ounce of strength he had in
his body, he’d fuck him some more. He had no doubt they’d both sleep soundly
afterwards, if there was any of the night left for sleeping when they were both
worn out.
Brian kissed the smiling face once more before they headed for the bedroom.
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