Strange Music

The fireplace was lit and the fake flames were flitting to and fro in the darkened loft. The guys were settling into their usual spots. Brian seemed to have a frown, maybe a fake, on his face as he opened up the discussion.

"Ethan's going to play about ten notes by himself and you want me to go to the whole symphony just to hear them," he growled. "Every time Ethan plays a couple of notes by himself we have to go. Couldn't he just stop here on his way and play those ten notes for us. We could applaud right here and save ourselves a trip?"

"Cut it out, Brian," Justin laughed at him. "It's a big thing for Ethan. I would like you to go with me to the symphony. That's why I asked you, but if you don't want to go, don't go. I can go myself, but since I would do anything for you because I love you so much, I'll even stay home too if that's what you want."

It was Brian's turn to laugh. "Not a chance, Honey," he told the kid. "You don't want to go either but you still want to act like a martyr. If I stay home, I do want you to go, even if I have to suffer an extra three hours without your company. I'll be glad to do that because I love you so much and I know how very much you want to hear Ethan play his big solo."

"Brian," Justin tried to sound reasonable. "You like the symphony and I bet you really do want to go. Why are you trying to make me feel guilty? Sometimes you're just mean, Mr. Kinney. But you will go, won't you?"

"Yeah, I'll go," Brian replied, "And we'll take Ethan and Tom up to a late dinner at Gino's afterwards too, if they're free. But you are right, Baby, I am mean sometimes. I just can't seem to control myself but I'm working on it."

"That's OK, Bri," Justin purred. "I love you even if you are mean sometimes."

"And I really appreciate that," Brian purred back as he snuggled the kid closer to him.

It was more than a little while before the conversation resumed, on the same topic though. "What the hell is Ethan playing anyhow?" Brian asked. "Chopin's violin concerto?"

"Chopin didn't write a violin concerto, Brian," Justin informed him. "He didn't write a symphony either."

"Geez," Brian responded. "We have something to look forward to then. Maybe it's not too late. I can't wait to hear Chopin's first symphony. That I'll really want to hear."

"Well if you're that eager," Justin countered, "Maybe we should go to every symphony performance just to make sure we don't miss it?"

"It might be just as easy if we asked Ethan to alert us when it gets on the schedule," Brian countered back. "You always like to do things the hard way but I think my idea's better this time."

"As always, Brian," Justin acquiesced, "Your slightest wish is my command." They both laughed.

"You know, Bri," Justin continued. "The love of Chopin's life was named George. But George Sand was really a woman."

"Operating under false pretenses, I guess," Brian commented. "Poor Chopin. You'd think he would have figured that out though."

"Oh, I think he knew, all right," Justin agreed. "But I think he wasn't all that disappointed."

"Takes all kinds to make a world," Brian opined.

After another short period, Brian wondered: "You know, Kiddo, this is the first time we've been to the symphony this year. They may have hired some new hot guys. I think I'll take binoculars along to check them out."

"You might look a little silly with binoculars, Bri," Justin warned him. "The seats are in the third row."

"Well then I'll take them along," Brian decided, "But I won't use them unless I need to. I wouldn't want Justin the concert-lover to be embarrassed."

"You really are mean, Brian Kinney," Justin grinned at him.

"Like I said, Baby," Brian responded. "Sometimes I can't control myself."

After another briefer pause, Justin took the offensive. "You know, Bri," he alerted the big guy, "Maybe in about twenty years or so, our Gus will be playing with the symphony. Then we will have to attend every program. That will be really neat, won't it?"

"And you know what, Sweetheart?" Brian came back. "I think I'm going to go out tomorrow and buy Gus a baseball glove."

"Whatever you say," Justin answered, "But the symphony only plays about twenty-four programs a year and they only take a couple of hours each. The Pirates play eighty some home games every season and they last about four hours apiece. But whatever you think you want to do …."

"Maybe a football would be better than a baseball mitt," Brian reconsidered. "I think the Steelers only play eight home games in a season."

"Yeah," Justin replied, "But they play in some really cold weather. You're not crazy about cold weather, Brian. You might freeze."

"But I'll have you there with me," Brian reasoned. "I'll just pull you over onto my lap and use you for a blanket. I'll bet you could keep me warm."

"I think I could at that, Brian," Justin thought out loud, "Maybe, I better come along with you tomorrow when we get Gus the football. I want to make sure he gets the very best and you're not that good of a shopper. Gus will never become a great player without the very best equipment."

"OK," Brian agreed. "Then at least I won't have to listen to you criticizing what I pick out. Good idea, Twink."

"Gee whiz, Brian," Justin complained. "You know very well that I never complain about anything. And anyhow, thanks for coming to the symphony with me. I love you, Brian."

Justin ran his hand across Brian's face and through his hair. "I love you," he repeated.

"You know what, Baby, I'm cold," Brian told the kid.

"It's not cold in here, Bri," Justin responded. "It's actually a little on the warm side. I hope you're not coming down with something."

"I don't think I'm coming down with something but I am cold," Brian insisted, pulling Justin up onto his lap. "I think I need to use you for a blanket. And you know what else, I'm hearing music too. Maybe it's Chopin's first symphony. Yeah, that's what it is. I'm sure. Can't you hear it?"

"But it's really not cold in here," Justin maintained, "And there's no music either. I think you must really be coming down with something."

"You know, Kiddo," Brian concluded, putting both arms around Justin and nuzzling the kid's hair with his nose. "I told you that sometimes I just can't control myself."

"That's OK, Brian," Justin decided. "Sometimes you just have to let yourself go. And you know what else, I don't think you're coming down with anything after all. Could you please hold me a little tighter? I'm beginning to feel the chill myself."

Brian adjusted his grasp slightly as requested. "How's that, Baby?" He asked the kid.

"That's a lot better," Justin allowed, "And I gotta tell you something else too. Bri. I think I can hear the music."

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