Chapter 9

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Brian

"Would you just shoot?"

Ted looks up at me. "Pool is a game of precision and science, my friend. It involves intricate eye hand coordination, geometry, specific gravity, molecular density."

Bullshit. I grab the cue ball. "It's a fucking ball and stick." I look at Mikey, "Will you take the shot, Mikey?"

"I can't, I've gotta meet David."

"Why doesn't he ever meet you here?"

"Um, because he doesn't like my friends." Meaning me.

Ted looks up at me. "I don't like your friends."

I stand up and move over to a seat. "What about his buddies? Does he have any?"

"Hey, I sunk one," says Ted.

"Yeah, well, you're stripes," I tell him.

"Yeah, sure, he has friends," Mikey continues.

"Have you ever met any?" I ask.

"No."

"Maybe he doesn't want you to."

"Hey there," says Justin as he approaches us with two beers in his hands.

"Well," Mikey turns to me. "At least his friends are his own age."

"What are you doing here?" I ask Justin as he frowns when Emmett takes his beer away. "I thought it was a school night."

"You're here," he retorts.

"I'm a grown up."

"Barely," he shoots back.

"Go home," I say.

"No," he mouths at me and brings a condom up to his mouth and bites it. Great, now I'm hard. It seriously takes all my strength not to follow him as he turns and goes. Fucking cock tease.

"So, what is this? Adopt a trick?" asks Mikey. He still isn't over the whole Justin thing. "First he's a one night stand and now he's moved in."

"It's only temporary."

"Until he grows up?"

"Until I figure out what to do with him." Mikey starts to leave. "Mikey! Tell the doc we miss him."

"Bye!"

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

"Brian's home," I hear Justin say when I come into the loft. He's on the phone. "Really?" he asks and then pulls the phone away from his ear. "My mom says hi." I just look at him. He puts the phone back to his ear. "Brian says hi, too," he lies while looking at me reproachfully. "So," he continues. "Does Dad ask about me?" Why the fuck does he care so much what that asshole thinks? I say good riddance. "So, he's still mad? Can you talk to him? Make him understand. No. No. I can't." God, he's starting to cry. "I can't come home. Not if he still feels that way. Mom. Mom… I'm gonna go. Give Molly a kiss for me. Yeah. You too." He turns off the phone and rubs his eyes.

"You know, it's really not worth crying about," I tell him.

"I wasn't crying," he says. "It's just my allergies."

"Your father's an asshole, who treats you like shit, and he practically killed me. I say; forget about him."

"Yeah, but he's my dad," he replies. "I mean, could you forget about your father?"

"I already did, a long time ago."

"You mean you never see him? Or talk to him?"

"What for?"

"Just to hang out and be together."

I try to imagine hanging out with my father. Not. "Just because he got my mother pregnant doesn't mean there's some special bond between us. He served his purpose. That's all he was good for."

"I could never feel that way about my dad," he replies.

"Well, then," I say. "You'll always be hurt."

The phone rings and Justin picks it up. "Hello? Oh hi. Yeah, hold on. He's right here."

He brings the phone to me. "It's Lindsay. She sounds upset."

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

"You vicious, homophobic cunt!" I arrive at the hospital to find a strung out looking Melanie yelling at some nurse.

"What's going on?" I ask her. "How is he?"

"I don't know," Melanie cries. "They won't let me back there."

"Why?"

"I'm not legal. I'm not anything, except apparently going crazy," she laughs a bit hysterically.

"What's that?" I look at the nurses. "Your fucking bureaucracy?" Jesus. This is such bullshit.

"Excuse me." Mel grabs a male nurse. "This is the father." She points at me.

He heaves a sigh as if the whole situation is a huge fucking bother to him. Excuse the fuck out of us for having a sick baby. "I'll take you back to him," he says.

"She's going too." I point to Mel.

She shakes her head. "Don't worry," she says. "Just give this to him," she hands me a blanket.

I take it and follow the nurse to my Sonny Boy.

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

The next morning I'm at the gym working on my thighs. "Not even six months old and my kid's already a drama queen," I say to the guys with a smile. Turns out he just had a case of the flu.

"Well," says Ted. "At least you know he's yours."

"The good news is he's all right," Mikey adds.

"Yeah, and I had to go to the hospital myself, because someone left their cell phone off," I look at Mikey pointedly.

"I had to deal with my own crisis," he retorts. "David's throwing a dinner party. Us and two other couples. One of them is straight."

"He eats with straight people?" I ask.

"Ick," comments Ted. "You never know where their hands have been.

"So, what's the problem?" Emmett asks Mikey.

He switches machines with me as he answers. "The problem is what do I talk about?"

"What do we talk about?" says Ted.

"What we've done, who we've done. Who we want to do," laughs Emmett.

"These people aren't like us," Mikey complains. "They're professors and doctors and things."

"We're things," argues Ted. "Ad execs." He points to me. "Accountants." He points to himself. "And…" he points at Emmett and stalls.

"Couturiers to disco trash," Emmett answers brightly.

"The thing is," says Mikey. "After two minutes, it will be painfully obvious that I don't fit in and David will dump me on the spot."

"Then we better get busy," answers Ted. He looks to Emmett. "Right, Professor Higgins?"

"Right, Pickering." He looks to Mikey. "We'll turn you from a simple flower girl into a lady."

Oh my God. This I have to see. I invite them over to my loft later for this fucked up Miss Manners experiment.

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

Justin

I'm sitting at the bar of the loft observing as Ted and Emmett attempt to give Michael a lesson on dinner party etiquette. They have him sitting at Brian's table in front of a formal place setting. This should be good. Have you seen Michael hold an eating utensil?

"Miss Manners says," Emmett talks while he shakes out a napkin and puts it in Michael's lap. "To be sure and always compliment the hostess."

"I am the hostess," replies Michael.

"And you look lovely," Brian says from across the room where he's changing a light bulb in one of his designer lamps.

Michael blows out a breath and stares down at the table. "Okay."

"Now, which fork is for salad?" asks Emmett.

Michael just stares at the place setting and I can't keep quiet any longer. "Go from the outside in," I say a bit smugly. I've never been more grateful for all those fucking Saturday afternoons I spent at the 'Etiquette for Kids' classes at the country club.

"I thought you were studying for your calculus exam," Brian comments. God forbid I should say anything to his precious Mikey.

"I'm taking a break," I say, not looking up from the video game I'm playing.

"Well, get back to work," he replies.

"Now, where's the bread plate?" Emmett asks.

"On your left," I say without looking up.

"Water glass?" continues Emmett.

"On your right," I say.

They both look up at me and I just smile sweetly at them.

"Well," says Michael. "As long as we only have salad, bread and water, I'm all set."

"Now," interjects Ted. "Topics of conversation. Stay clear of religion, because you never know where everybody stands. Avoid politics like the plague and uh, you should probably steer clear of the economy as well."

"Well, so far he should have no trouble," comments Brian. "Mikey's never talked about religion, politics or the market in his life."

"Well, what do I talk about?" complains Michael.

"Movies are always a safe bet," I say. "If you want to appear current without sounding controversial." I look up from my game and smile sweetly at them again.

"I saw X-men six times," Michael replies.

I snort at him.

"Yeah." Ted stands up and walks over. "Somehow, I suspect that won't wow the art house crowd."

"Look," says Brian. "You're making too big a deal out of this. You show up, you talk, you eat."

"These are David's best friends," Michael replies. "I want to make a good impression."

"And you will," says Emmett. "You just have to remember a few simple rules."

"Don't talk about anything that matters," says Ted.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Brian covers his mouth with his hand.

"Well, what if I burp?" asks Michael.

I smile at him. "Just cover your mouth with your napkin and say, 'excuse me,' to no one in particular."

"Just be yourself and you won't have anything to worry about," comforts Ted.

"I just know that somehow, someway, I am going to fuck up."

"Well, that's what he means." Brian gives him a gentle slap on the cheek. "Be yourself."

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

Later that afternoon, Brian and I are at Lindsay and Melanie's house for tea. Thank goodness Gus is okay. Brian was so worried when Lindsay called him to the hospital last night. Brian is sitting next to me on the couch holding Gus. He is so gentle and loving with Gus. They are really beautiful together.

"He seems fine to me," Brian says while holding Gus close to his face. "Aren't you, Sonny Boy?"

"Thank God after last night," comments Lindsay.

"Yesterday, life and death, today, tea and cookies," laughs Mel.

"They're good," I say with my mouthful of cookie. I'm starving. Brian never has good stuff to eat at his place.

"It's a mix," replies Lindsay. "But," she continues, "It makes you realize how important it is to be prepared."

I can tell that Brian is instantly on his guard. "For what?" he asks her.

"For like what happened with that nurse," replies Lindsay.

"God, she was a real bitch," agrees Brian.

"Thank you," smiles Mel.

"Justin, would you like some ice cream?" Lindsay asks me suddenly.

"No, I'm okay," I reply as I munch on another cookie. It's obvious they want to talk to Brian about something and I'm totally curious.

Finally, Brian snaps. "What are you getting at?" he asks them point blank.

"Well, it's something we talked about before Gus was born," replies Lindsay. "Only we never got around to doing it. Melanie would like to petition for second parent adoption."

Hmmm. "What's that?" I ask.

"Well," states Mel. "I'm not Gus' biological parent like Lindsay or Brian, so I need to file papers to make me his legal guardian."

"Only Melanie can't get the process going until you sign papers to…" she pauses and looks at Brian. "Give up your parental rights."

"No way!" I sit up. I can't believe they are asking this of him. It's totally not fair. "He's Gus' dad!"

"No one's denying that," Lindsay answers. "You know you'll always be part of his life," she adds to Brian. "The same way we'll always be part of each other's."

"You don't have to convince me," says Brian, not taking his eyes off Gus. "Just tell me where to sign."

"What?" I say in disbelief. "You mean you're actually going to do it?"

"Justin!" Mel says and looks at me pointedly.

"He'll be better off. What do I have to do?"

"Sign some papers," says Mel. "I'll have them drawn up."

"You can't!" I say to him. This is such bullshit. Brian is a great dad.

"Would you stay out of this?" he snaps at me.

"You're his father!"

"And I'm teaching him a lesson," Brian replies. He looks down at Gus. "Don't count on your old man." Now I don't know if he's talking to me or Gus.

Mel smiles happily and kisses Lindsay on the cheek, but Lindsay just looks at Brian and Gus with a sad smile.

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

Brian

"Insouciant," I give Justin the next vocabulary word off his SAT list.

"Unconcerned, nonchalant," he replies from his spot in my shower. "That's what you are," he says as he turns off the shower. "Insouciant."

I ignore his little tirade and give him his next word. "Sycophant."

"Uncaring," he replies as he dries himself off.

"That's wrong," I reply. "It means ass kisser."

"It doesn't say ass kisser," he smirks.

I look at the sheet and read the definition. "One who seeks favor by flattery. Ass kisser."

"Who cares what it says?" he snaps at me. "How can you give away Gus?" Christ, are we still on this? "He'll think you didn't want him."

"He'll be right," I answer as I keep shaving. I never fucking wanted a kid. I never said I wanted a kid. This was all Lindsay's deal, so she can have it.

"I don't believe you," retorts the little fucker. "I was there when he was born. I saw you give him a kiss. I saw…"

"Not everyone's cut out to be a father," I interrupt him.

"Well then, what are you going to tell him, someday when he's old enough, why you didn't want him?"

"I'll tell him the truth. These two dykes I knew wanted a kid so I jerked off into a cup."

"That's not all there is to it," he says as he starts rubbing shaving cream on his face. Like he fucking needs to shave again today. Give me a break, kid. "A boy needs a father. Believe me, I know."

Oh, yes, at age seventeen, he is all knowing. "Yeah, well, you haven't had a father for almost two weeks."

Okay, I know that was a low blow, but fuck, he really needs to mind his own business.

"Even if he gets angry," he replies, "even if he's not always there. It's better than not having one at all." He looks at me.

"Yeah, don't be so sure," I retort as I rinse the rest of the soap off my face.

"Your father must have loved you," he says earnestly. "He probably just didn't know how to show it."

I snigger at him. "Yeah, he knew how to show it all right. Especially after he'd had a few."

"At least he didn't give you away," he replies.

Low blow, Blond Boy. "Garrulous," is all I say in reply.

"Loquacious, chatty," he returns. I move into my room and get dressed. "Where are you going?" he asks.

"Out."

"I thought you were going to help me."

"If you want help, call your father," I reply coldly.

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

I huddle into the warmth of my leather jacket as I jog across the street to the union hall. I'm not sure what's driving me to seek him out tonight. I guess it's Mel and Lindsay's request to sign over my rights, and Justin's emphatic insistence that it would be a mistake.

Whatever the reason, I take a breath and push my way through the doors into the smoke filled room. I spot him across the room in the midst of a poker game. I make my way through the straight, blue-collar workers who are playing darts and shooting pool. Wow, same as we fags do at Woody's. Imagine that.

"How's it going, Pop?" I ask from my spot behind his chair.

"Better days," he answers without turning to look at me. "And for sure, better hands. Say hello to the guys."

"Hello, guys," I respond dutifully to the other men at the table.

"I'm out," says my father as he throws his cards down and stands up. "I was bluffing anyway."

"As if you were fooling anybody," retorts one of his friends.

Pop throws an arm around my shoulders and leads us over to the bar. "What'll you have, Sonny Boy?"

"Beer's good," I reply.

"Hold your fire!" he says to a couple playing darts as we walk through. "A tumbler of your best scotch, Spike," Pop tells the bartender. Well, so much for beer. "So, how's that fancy job of yours?" he asks.

Yeah, Dad, anything that doesn't involve a union or an hourly wage is 'fancy,' isn't it? "My fancy job is just fine. I can't complain," I reply.

He snorts. "Leave the complaining up to The Warden. If it was up to her, I'd never have any fun." He looks around us, anywhere but directly at me. "Listen, um, I'm a little short. You know, the end of the month. I was just…"

I don't let him finish as I reach in my pocket and pull out the envelope of cash that I have for him. I guess it's good to know some things never change. I guess my 'fancy' job is good enough to pay for his poker and booze.

He slides the envelope into his pocket and turns, hitting me on the shoulder and then pointing at me. "You're a good boy. I'm keeping strict accounts. Every God damned penny," he says.

Yeah, right. "I know," is all I say.

He turns to the bartender. "Mr. Executive is treating," he says pointing to me. Fuck if he should use some of the cash I just gave him to buy me a fucking drink. No, don't waste on something as useless as your own kid. He raises his glass so I raise mine and tap his. "Don't you work too hard now," he says.

"Thanks for the advice," I answer.

"Save some time for the ladies," he hits me playfully on the shoulder.

"Oh, I always leave time for the ladies," I reply with a smirk.

"Don't let 'em tie you down, you hear."

"Don't worry about me, Pop."

"Cause that's what they all want to do, no matter what the hell they say."

"I think I can handle it," I reply, really wanting to get off this subject, now.

He picks up his drink and downs it. "You know…you and me…we're a lot alike."

"We are?" I ask. Fuck, I am nothing like him. I've spent my whole fucking life proving it, too. Right?

"We weren't meant to settle down," he says to me. "Sometimes, God damnit, I look in a mirror and I say, 'Jack Kinney, you dumb son of a bitch, you should never have been a family man.'"

"Then why did you?" I ask, knowing that I shouldn't. That I should just leave and not wait for the answer he will give me. The answer that I know will cut me like a knife, just like it does every time. "Why did you marry Mom? Why'd you have me?"

"Jesus!" he exclaims. "You're a smart kid. You mean you never figured it out?" I push off the bar and start to walk away. Why the fuck do I keep doing this to myself? "Now, come on Sonny Boy. Sonny Boy!" he calls. "You just stay. Come on and have another drink with your old man. Come on, have another drink." He turns back to the bartender. "Two more."

And I do it. I stay. Maybe because when we're drinking together is the only time he's ever been able to tolerate me. Maybe it's because he's right and we are alike. Maybe all that time I spent running from him just took me right back to him.

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Michael

Hey, sorry to jump in. I know that this is Brian and Justin's story, but this part has to be told by me. Mostly because Brian was so wasted that night he won't be able to tell it accurately and, well, really, if it was up to him it wouldn't be in here at all. I think it's something important that you should know, but don't tell him I told you.

It's late at night and someone's knocking on our door. "Emmett, you can't keep losing your key," I call out, annoyed to be dragged from my cozy bed.

I open the door and Brian's standing there, holding a bottle of whiskey and smelling like a fucking distillery. "Hey, Sonny Boy," he slurs.

Alarms are going off everywhere in my brain. "Aw, shit," I say, "you went to see your dad."

"Hey, stay here and have a drink with your old man," he answers.

"All right, come on," I say as I wrap my arm around his waist and lead him inside, kicking the door shut behind him. "Come on."

We stagger to my room and his legs buckle. It's a struggle to get him on my bed, where I take off his jacket. "Well, we lost the game again," he says in a gruff voice.

"Uh huh," I reply as I move to take off his shirt. "Lift up your arms."

"Yeah, we, uh, threw away a thirteen point lead in the last ten minutes," he says.

Brian has never watched a game in his life, let alone cared who won one. "Oh, boy," I say as I rest my forehead against his for a moment. I gently push him back on the bed so I can get his pants off.

"The boys down in electrical. They might strike," he says as I undo his belt. Oh, yeah, he's channeling Jack again. He does this every fucking time he goes to see his dad. You'd think he'd learn.

"You don't say," I reply. "Now your pants," I pull them off his long legs. "There you go."

"Tony Kateras is thinking about retiring next spring. Well, if he goes, you know…" he trails off.

"Well, good for Tony," I answer as I get his pants off over his feet. I stand up and push his legs onto my bed. "Now, get in," I say as I turn off the light, cover him up and climb in on the other side of him.

Brian rolls onto his side and I spoon behind him, rubbing gentle circles on his arm. "You should have heard him," he says with a wry laugh. "'How's my successful son?'" he imitates his dad's voice again. "'I'm a little short of cash. I never should have been a family man.'"

"That's ancient history," I whisper to him. "Now go to sleep." It tears me up to see what his father does to him every single fucking time.

"It never changes," he says and there's a hitch in his voice and I know he's crying. "Not his bullshit. Not his life."

"When are you ever gonna learn?" I ask him softly. "It's all he is. All he can be."

And Brian, my handsome, successful, tough, self-centered, self-reliant, best friend sobs into my pillow like a lost little boy. Just as he has done since that first time he came running to my house with a bloody nose, not long after we became friends when we were fourteen. He snuck into my room that night and lay in my bed, in my arms, and cried just like this. In the morning, he was gone, just as I know he will be when I wake up tomorrow. It's not something we ever talk about; it just is.

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

Brian

I'm at the munchers' house waiting for Melanie to bring the papers so I can sign away my rights to Gus. He's sitting in his little carrier on the table next to where I'm sitting. He really is a beautiful baby.

Mel comes into the dining room. "I had my assistant flag the places for you to sign," she says as she places the document in front of me.

"I need a pen," I say.

"Ooh, got one," Mel says as she hands me one.

I try to sign on the first line and the fucking pen won't work. "There's no ink in there," I say as I toss it on the table.

"I have one," Lindsay says as she starts rummaging through a drawer behind me. "Here you go."

I take the pen, but as I can't make myself write. Gus starts to fuss a little and I look at him.

"Brian," prompts Lindsay softly.

Mel puts a hand on Gus. "Oh, what is it? Sweetie? Honey, I thought you changed him," she looks at Lindsay.

"I did," Lindsay replies. "Maybe that new formula doesn't agree with him."

I try to comfort him a little and then Mel speaks again. "Well, I guess we should get on with it." She smiles sweetly at me.

"I changed my mind," I say as I reach over and pick up my son.

"Brian, please don't do this," Lindsay begs.

"I'm not signing it," I say as I cuddle Gus close to me.

"We had an agreement," states Mel and I can see she's upset and pissed, but I can't help that.

"That was before," I say. "Gus didn't exist then."

"Oh, God, I knew it," breathes out Mel as she turns away.

"Brian, you know how important this is to us after what happened at the hospital."

"Well, I'm sorry for that. That was wrong, but so is giving up my kid." I hold Gus out and look at him. "Isn't that right, Sonny Boy?" I whisper softly.

I know how much hell I'll catch for this, but Justin was right. I don't ever want him to think I didn't want him. That I don't love him with all my heart.