The Score

Prologue

"I believe this new proposal will increase your marketshare--" Brian paused as he saw Cynthia wave to him from the door. "If you’ll turn to page three, Gina will walk you through the next step of the campaign. Excuse me."

Gina stood and began efficiently moving through the new boards while Brian joined his secretary in the hall. "Is someone dead?" he snarled.

"Lindsay called and I told her you were in a meeting, but then your pager went off. I’m sorry, if she’d said it was an emergency--" He took the pager from her and saw the caller had entered 911.

Justin. Fucking drama princess.

He didn’t bother to remind Cynthia that Lindsay would always enter G-U-S, 487, if it were an emergency. If he did, he’d have to explain who else had the power to pull him from a meeting.

Fucking twat.

He left his flustered assistant wringing her hands in the hall as he hurried to his office.

Craig Taylor must’ve seen him rush past because he caught Brian as he was about to shut his office door for privacy. "Shouldn’t you be--"

Brian barely spared him a glance. Craig knew he wouldn’t leave a major account meeting for no reason. "Gina’s got it, I’ve got a family emergency."

Craig nodded gullibly. "I hope everything’s alright, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Brian mumbled, picking up his phone. He started dialing, but hung up as Craig retreated and shut the door behind him. Brian opened his desk drawer and pulled out a cell phone he kept for just these occasions. He hit the only number programmed into speed dial and waited for the boy to answer.

"Bri-ian," Justin sniffled.

Brian rubbed his temple to ward off the headache that was starting and forced himself to keep his irritation in check. "What’s wrong?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

"You know what’s wrong," the boy sobbed. "Mom said you’re not coming to my party! Brian, you pro-m-mised," he hiccuped. Then his voice lowered hesitantly, "Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" Justin was wheezing now and Brian knew he had worked himself into an asthma attack. "You d-don’t lo-ove me any-mo-ore…"

Jesus Christ. Goddamn heteros and their fucking pillow talk. Craig had just told Brian about the sudden trip to Chicago this morning, but Jennifer had already opened her big fucking mouth to the kid. "Justin, stop…Justin, listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Y-yesss…"

"Where’s your inhaler?" Brian heard the boy fumble around with the phone and then the inhaler puffed next to the phone. He held his own breath as he waited for Justin’s to even out. Finally, the boy sounded better. "Justin, where are you?"

"At the park, on our bench," Justin warbled softly. "Don’t worry, no one’s around."

Brian heaved a sigh of relief. At least the kid had learned to have his tantrums in private. The older man was so fucking close to… fuck, he wouldn’t let anything ruin his plans now.

"Brian, please come, you’ve never missed my birthday," the boy pleaded. Brian rolled his eyes. All two of them that the kid had since they’d known each other. "I’ll do anything you say--"

"It’s out of my hands, Justin, your dad set up the meeting and I have to go. You know I would be there if I could."

"But why can’t it wait until next week?" Justin huffed. "Tell him--"

"What?" Brian snapped. "That I can’t pitch the account because I promised to fuck you this weekend?" The end of the line was silent and Brian softened his tone. "We’ve been trying to get this meeting for weeks and your dad isn’t going to understand any reason I give for passing up this account for your birthday party. I’m just an employee, Justin, I only get invited to these events because it’s polite."

And because Craig thought Brian, his straight, married, hard as nails, senior ad exec, was a good role model for his overly sensitive, unmotivated, late blooming, disappointment of a son…If you only knew, you fucking piece of shit.

"That’s not true," Justin cried. "They love you, and when they find out--"

"Justin," Brian barked. "You know we can’t tell them about us… not yet."

Justin sniffled again. "But my mom--"

"Do you want to put her in that position?" Brian asked sharply. "Force her to choose between her gay son and her homophobic husband and tear your family apart?"

Not until I’m ready.

"No," Justin answered miserably, "but it’s not fair."

"Trust me, it’ll all work out. Have I ever lied to you?"

"No."

"Have I ever let you down?"

"No."

"Then do you think I’ll somehow manage to make it up to you for missing your birthday?"

"Yes…"

Brian knew Justin was itching to ask him when and how, but he restrained himself. Good boy. "How about tonight?" he offered as a reward, rapidly readjusting his schedule in his head to shift their personal party to a few days earlier.

"Really?" Justin asked, his voice hopeful.

"Really," Brian confirmed. "I’m going to tell your dad there’s been a family emergency out of town and we need you to take care of Gus tonight. All night."

"You want me to spend the night this time?" Justin was suddenly breathless again, but Brian knew it wasn’t his asthma this time. "Does this mean--"

"Yes, sweet cheeks," Brian purred, "I’m going to fuck your tight little virgin ass all night long. Happy Birthday."

"Oh, Brian…Shit, wait—what about Lindsay?"

"She and Gus went to Grandma Deb’s yesterday and they won’t be back until Friday."

"Oh, my god, we’re finally going to do it," Justin exclaimed in awe. "I love you, Brian."

"You’re going to love my cock in your ass even more," Brian smirked, impatiently ignoring the kid’s sentiment. He didn’t have time to play the ‘prove you love me’ game today. "Alright, I gotta go, but I’m leaving early so I’ll pick you up after school."

He turned the phone off and slipped it into his briefcase before heading down the hall. Brian poked his head into Craig’s office. "My mother-in-law fell and broke her hip and Linds is hysterical. I need to leave early, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon." The lie was smooth and effortless. It should be after two years.

"You’re going to New York? Do you need to reschedule the meetings for next week?" Craig asked.

"Albany," Brian corrected, "and no, I’m just going to go with Linds tonight to make sure she’s alright, but then I’ll come back. I don’t want to leave Gus alone for more than one night. You don’t mind if we have Justin stay with Gus, do you? I think the turmoil will just upset him, and Linds can’t deal with him right now. And if I have to take care of her…"

"Of course, happy to help. Let me know if you need anything else." Yes, Craig was all about projecting the image of a caring boss and devoted family man.

Fucking hypocrite.

"Sure," Brian nodded, careful to keep his real feelings for the man from showing through. "So, I’ll just make sure Gina has everything under control before I go."

***

Brian pulled the boy from the shower and quickly dried them both before tossing Justin over his shoulder and carrying him to the bedroom.

"Brian!" the boy squealed as the older man slapped his ass and tossed him on the bed. He scrambled to the center of the mattress, pretending to try to get away as Brian pounced.

Brian pinned his prey down, rubbing his erection against Justin’s ass. Justin moaned, lifting his hips in invitation. Fuck, he was a hot little twink.

"This is going to feel so good," he whispered in the boy’s ear, waiting for the predictable flutter of Justin’s eyelids as the blue orbs popped open to see him. Justin always wanted to see him.

Knowing the boy was watching, Brian reached for a condom from the nightstand.

Justin’s brows furrowed. He pushed Brian back and sat up. "Brian, I thought…"

Brian made a show of pausing and brushing his thumb over the boy’s cheek. The eyelids fluttered again as Justin turned his face into the touch. Beautiful—right on cue.

"You know I’ve been with other men, this is to protect you. I would never hurt you."

Justin’s lower lip trembled. "But now that we’re together--"

"But we can’t be together yet," Brian corrected. "You still have to finish school and--"

Reality hit hard and Justin angrily slapped Brian’s hand away. "You’re still going to fuck other guys!"

"Justin, it’s just fucking," Brian rationalized calmly, "we’ve talked about this. But it’s not the same as what’s between us." Christ, he sounded like a damn lesbian. "You know that right?"

Justin’s eyes flashed defiantly as he held back the tears that threatened to spill. "I don’t believe you."

Brian felt an unwelcome twinge of…respect for the boy. He quashed it down and reached under the pillow for his surprise. Keeping the small box under his palm, he feigned indignation. "Then what the fuck have I been doing all this time? Risking my career to be with you, probably risking my LIFE if your asshole father finds out you’re gay and I’m fucking you before you graduate. I let you into my son’s life, Justin. If you think I do that with just anyone, then I guess we’re not ready for this." He lifted the velvet Jeweler’s box and studied it. "I knew this wasn’t a good idea. You need more time, Justin. You’re too young to make a commitment like this."

"No," the boy cried. "I love you!" He threw his arms around Brian’s neck. "That’ll never change, I swear."

That test would come soon enough.

An uncharacteristic wave of fear washed over Brian and he shoved it aside.

He held the trembling boy against him and opened the box. "Give me your hand," he whispered, nuzzling the soft blond hair at the base of Justin’s neck. The boy always smelled and tasted so sweet.

Brian took the ring out and held it up to shine under the soft blue glow. It was a simple silver band with ribs around each side. It looked like any number of rings you could buy at the mall, but this one had an infinity symbol stamped inside. Brian showed it to Justin before slipping it on the middle finger of his left hand. "Now, if anyone asks, you can tell them you just bought it for yourself and we’ll be the only ones who really know what it means." He lay Justin back down, covering the smaller frame with his own. "What you mean to me--forever."

My future is in your hands.

"You belong to me now," Brian said huskily as he settled between the boys spread legs.

Justin instinctively wrapped them around Brian’s waist, pressing bodies closer together.

So easy to manipulate. "Say it," Brian demanded.

Justin sighed and wiggled against the older man, his erection hardening further as it slid against Brian’s. "I’m yours. I’ll always be yo—ahhh…" he gasped as Brian’s hands squeezed his ass cheeks, roughly kneading the smooth globes.

"Always…remember that," Brian ordered gruffly as he traced a finger along the crack.

Justin eagerly arched into his touch. "Yesss…"

"Remember this…" Brian rubbed his finger against the puckered opening and Justin twisted in his arms, trying to feel it inside.

"Brian, please…"

"Alright, sweet cheeks." Brian put some lube on his finger and pushed it into the tight hole. He watched Justin’s head toss on the pillow and he could hardly contain his own excitement.

This was it. Once he fucked the boy, Justin would do anything for him.

"I love you, Brian," Justin moaned as the older man continued to gently prepare him.

"I love you too."

***

Later, Brian would blame his slip of the tongue on the ridiculous romance of the moment—exactly why he avoided that shit. But it had served his purpose so he didn’t dwell on it. Justin was a pawn, nothing more. Okay, he’d admit the boy was a pleasant diversion as well, but absolutely nothing more.

In three days, Justin would turn seventeen and Craig Taylor’s life as he knew it would never be the same. Brian thought it was only fair since the man had destroyed Brian’s world when he had been Justin’s age.

It was time to settle the score—eye for an eye.

Taylor’s family for his.

***

TWO YEARS EARLIER…

"Getting settled alright?" Craig asked for the third time that afternoon.

Brian looked up from the papers Cynthia had given him to sign and gestured she could leave. As the woman walked past their new boss, he noticed Craig visibly ogled her ass. He assumed Craig wasn’t balking that Brian insisted he bring his own assistant on board anymore. Brian filed that little tidbit of information away. It might come in handy later.

Craig crossed the room and stopped at the large silver picture frame Brian had placed on the credenza. "Beautiful family," he complimented. "How old is your boy?"

"Five…going on fifty," Brian answered wryly.

"Ah, his own little man," Craig laughed. "I remember when Justin was that age."

Ah, do you now? I’d have thought you were too drunk to remember almost killing your son.

"Anyway, we’re having a company picnic at my house on Saturday. Bring your wife, we’re going to barbecue-- sort of a spring fling, we do it every year. And bring your son, there’s a park across the street for the kids."

"We’ll be there."

***

"Honey, I’m home," Brian called as he let himself into the house.

Lindsay appeared in the kitchen doorway with a glass of Jim Beam in her hand. "How was your day, dear," she asked sweetly as she handed him his drink.

Brian gratefully took a hard gulp and set it down before spinning his friend around and dipping her over the sofa. He kissed her squarely on the lips. "I love you woman… if you only had a dick you’d be perfect."

Lindsay laughed. "If only you didn’t, you’d be perfect."

"Daddy, look what I made today!"

Brian released his ‘wife’ and she fell against the cushions.

"Brian!" she huffed, struggling to sit up again.

"No hetero displays in front of the boy," Brian chastised sarcastically. "I don’t want to warp Sonny Boy’s mind. Come here, Gus." He scooped the child up and set him on the back of the sofa. "Show me what you got."

***

After an hour of ‘family time’, Brian got another drink and went to the pool house. Well, what had been the pool house before he moved in. Five years ago they remodeled the ramshackle hut into a sleek, modern, fag haven for Brian to entertain tricks.

Occasionally, Brian remembered the shocked look on Mrs. Peterson’s face when they finally revealed the hoax to her. It was the last time she ever set foot on the property. Good riddance. Brian hated that charade.

It was the last weekend before Lindsay and Brian, best friends since they were freshmen, started their final year of college. They were getting high and skinny dipping in the Peterson’s pool while her parents were out of town for the weekend. Given the pot and their rambunctious mood, they decided to fuck each other just once out of curiosity. Unfortunately, it was a disaster and the condom broke, resulting in Gus.

Lindsay refused to abort the baby and Brian refused to have anything to do with it. But he did agree to a mock engagement to get Lindsay back in her parents’ good graces when her father’s health rapidly declined. He certainly understood the desire to fuck them over for disowning her when they found out she was a lesbian. And it worked like a charm. The Peterson’s gave them the house as a wedding gift and her father died a week before Gus was born. Brian could honestly say he was glad the fucker never met his grandson.

Sometimes he’d wished he’d been so lucky. The first time he saw the little bundle he knew he couldn’t turn his back on his son. The original plan had been to sell the house so Lindsay would have the money to support the baby without Brian, but after Gus was born, they decided to stay a makeshift family. Brian renovated the pool house for his own personal space while Linds had the main house to entertain her lezzie friends.

Lindsay hadn’t finished school. Instead, she freelanced on some art projects when the whim struck. On the other hand, Brian graduated with honors and a couple of hot prospects with the biggest ad agencies in Pittsburgh so he got a job and became the primary breadwinner while she raised their son.

And that was how they ended up where they were today. And how he ended up in another charade like the one they'd pulled over on the Petersons. He'd used Lindsay's debt to get her to go along with his scheme against Craig Taylor. After all, he needed the support of his ‘wife’ to get close to the homophobic prick.

Brian dropped the phony wedding band on the nightstand and started unbuttoning his shirt when Lindsay knocked on the screen door. "Bri, you decent?"

"You know better than that," he smirked.

"Are you naked?" she clarified.

"Not yet. Come on in and I’ll give you a show."

"No thanks," she replied as she let herself in.

"Where’s Gus?"

"Watching TV."

Brian knew something was on her mind. She respected his privacy and only went looking for him when she needed to talk about something Gus shouldn’t hear. And considering they had just been together… "What’s up?"

"Tell me how your day went."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t we just discuss daddy’s new job?"

Lindsay smacked his arm and stretched out on the bed. "Yeah, but you left out daddy’s new boss."

Brian hung his suit in the closet and slipped on a pair of sweats before lighting a cigarette and lying beside her. Lindsay wrinkled her nose, but didn’t say anything. As long as he didn’t smoke around Gus, she didn’t care what he did in his own space.

"I think he might be a womanizer. I caught him undressing Cynthia with his beady little eyes. I’d be surprised if she didn’t feel violated."

"Poor thing," Lindsay sympathized. "But I can understand why, she’s hot."

Brian rolled her eyes. "Am I the only one not trying to get in her pants?"

Lindsay giggled and shrugged.

Brian gave her a pointed look. "Neither one of you has a chance, she’s got the biggest balls of any chick I know."

"I’m just saying…" Lindsay held up her hands in submission. "So, you think he’s cheating on his wife? Is that the plan? Rat him out so she can leave him and take half of everything?"

"Actually, she’d get everything because it’s her father’s company. He’s just running it like a good son-in-law. Besides, he could just have a wandering eye. It’s too soon to know if he’s really cheating... and losing anything that way wouldn’t be much of a loss, I don’t think. He wouldn’t really feel any pain from losing a company he didn’t actually build himself, you know? And as far as the wife, he strikes me as the type of guy who’d just go out and get himself some bimbo trophy for wife number two. No real suffering there either." He took another drag. "No, there’s got to be something else…and you can help me dig up some dirt on Saturday. We’re going to meet the Taylors."

***

An elegant, perfectly mannered, blonde woman greeted the Kinney family at the door. "Come in, you must be Brian. I’m Jennifer Taylor."

Brian shook her hand and introduced Lindsay and Gus. Jennifer offered them drinks before leading them out onto the patio. Brian quickly scanned the crowd and saw Craig Taylor at a table surrounded by children brandishing markers and crayons-- and an angry teenager.

Brian walked up behind them holding Gus’ hand.

"I said I’ll watch them," the blond boy said obstinately, not realizing a stranger was listening.

"Justin, this is your party, you should be mingling with your guests, not coloring with the other children. You’re fifteen now, for Christ’s sake."

"It’s NOT my party, this party sucks. You always invite people I don’t know to my birthday. You mingle with them. They’re YOUR guests."

"Your mother--"

"Said I should keep the kids entertained because it’s too muddy to take them to the park, so that’s what I’m doing. Why don’t you go have a drink, dad."

Oh, yeah, that hit a nerve.

"That’s enough, young man--" Craig bellowed angrily, drawing the attention of the other guests.

"Excuse me," Brian cut in deflecting his wrath. "Got room for Gus here?"

Craig turned, startled by the interruption. "Well, I--"

"Sure," Justin replied. "Hi, Gus. I’m Justin. You can sit by me."

Gus looked up at his dad for permission and Brian nodded, releasing his hand. The boy ran over to the table and climbed up on the bench next to his new friend.

"So, Brian, glad you could make it," Craig said, obviously letting his son win this round instead of causing a bigger scene. "Where’s your lovely wife?"

Brian tipped his head toward the corner of the yard. "By the rosebush with Jennifer. I’ll introduce you." He rounded the table and ruffled his son’s hair. "I’ll be right over there, Sonny Boy."

"Stop it," the boy huffed, wiggling out of reach. "Look what you did," he accused, showing Brian he had caused Gus to draw a crooked line.

"My apologies," Brian offered contritely. "I’m sure Justin will give you a new piece of paper."

"No problem," Justin agreed, handing Gus a clean sheet. While the teen was distracted, Brian glanced at his picture. The kid was a fucking teenage Rembrandt.

"Is something wrong?" Justin asked nervously.

Brian realized he’d been staring. "No, I was just looking--"

Justin blushed. "I was just doodling." He shoved the sheet under a stack of other scrap paper, but Brian pulled it out again.

"If that’s ‘doodling’, I’d like to see something serious. You’re very good."

Brian caught a look that father and son exchanged before Justin’s eyes dropped to the table again. "No, I’m not."

Brian decided to leave it alone for now and Craig led him over to Lindsay.

They were halfway across the yard when Brian felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He looked back, thinking something was wrong with Gus, and saw Justin’s blue eyes raking over him.

Obviously, like father like son. Except… well, wasn't that was interesting.

***

"Another drink?" Craig asked, but Brian shook his head. It was getting late and they were the last guests left.

"No, thanks, but go ahead if you’d like."

"I don’t drink," Craig told him curtly. Brian didn’t say anything, but they both knew the other was thinking about Justin’s comment earlier. "I used to," Craig explained, "but I don’t anymore. You know how teenagers are, always throwing your sins back in your face."

With good reason.

"I think it’s time to call it a night. Thanks for everything," Brian said as they walked to the kitchen and joined Jennifer and Lindsay.

"I’ll call Justin and have him bring Gus back," Craig said. With no other children left to play with, Brian and Lindsay had agreed to let Gus go to the park with Justin, despite the mud, if they tried to stay clean.

"No, I’ll walk over and get him, I could use the exercise," Brian replied.

He heard Jennifer comment behind him as he left, "He is the last person who needs to worry about exercise."

Then Lindsay laughed. "I know. He really just wants to have a cigarette."

Bitch. He told her to make nice with Jennifer, but she didn’t have to give away all his secrets.

***

Brian was impressed to see Gus only had one muddy shoe.

"Sorry," Justin mumbled as Brian inspected his son. "He accidentally stepped in that puddle by--"

"Don’t worry about it," Brian told him. "I’m surprised he doesn’t look like a pig in slop."

"Daddy, I want to stay," Gus pouted.

"One more trip down the slide, Sonny Boy, then we have to go home. Mommy’s tired."

Gus kicked the ground. "Ten."

Brian smirked. "Five."

"Deal," the boy squealed, running back to the slide.

Brian sat down next to Justin on the bench and stretched his legs out.

"So he learned that from you?" Justin asked, laughing. Obviously, he’d already been hit with Gus’ negotiating tactics.

"Actually, his mother taught him that. She likes to negotiate the chores. Women’s lib and all that shit."

Justin snorted. "Maybe she can teach my mom so she doesn’t let my dad push her around all the time."

Brian raised an eyebrow. "It looks to me like your mom’s pretty smart, for a woman. And a smart woman knows how to pick her battles. Like I bet she lets your dad push her around a little, but she doesn’t let him push you around, does she?"

Justin looked surprised by his insight, then appropriately chagrined as he stared at his hands. "No."

"She knows you’re gay, doesn’t she?"

Justin jumped up, panicked. "I’m not--"

Brian grabbed his wrist before he could run away. "Easy, boy, I’m not going to tell anyone." He rubbed soothing circles in the palm of Justin’s hand with his thumb. "Come on, sit back down."

Justin obeyed, nervously perched on the edge of the bench. Brian let go of his hand and picked up the sketchpad that had been knocked to the ground. He saw the drawing of Gus on the swing and he lightly traced the detail of his son’s face. "This is amazing."

"How did you know?" Justin blurted out.

Brian chuckled. "Come on, sweet cheeks, I know when I’m being cruised."

Justin’s mouth gaped. "I wasn’t--"

Brian rolled his eyes. "Whatever. How about ‘takes one to know one’?" He let that sink in for a moment and finally Justin’s eyes widened.

"B-but you’re married!"

"I see you got dad’s brains instead of mom’s."

Justin scowled at him. "Is that a blonde joke?"

Ooh, a mama’s boy, defending her honor.

Brian softened his tone. He didn’t want to antagonize his new little friend. "No, just an important lesson. Things aren’t always as they appear. I’m gay and Linds is a lesbian."

Justin’s brow furrowed. "What about Gus?"

"He hasn’t decided yet."

Justin scowled again, but he had to admit he walked into that one so Brian didn’t feel bad having a little laugh at his expense.

Justin squared his shoulders, obviously angered by Brian’s making fun of him. "I mean, how did you have a kid if--"

"I’ll spare you the gory details since I’m sure you know the basics from school. Let’s just say too much pot makes any wet warm hole look good to your dick."

Justin scrunched his nose, showing his age again. "Ewww…"

Brian had to agree with that, not one of his finer moments. "Anyway, we raise Gus together so he has two parents like other kids."

"I can tell you really love him."

"I do, which is why I really need this job with your dad." Right. Like he couldn’t go some place better. "But we both know he wouldn’t have hired me if he knew I was gay, right?"

Justin nodded.

"And you won’t tell him about me if I don’t tell him about you?"

Justin smiled slightly. "Deal."

Brian smiled back as Gus ran over to them. The boy took the sketchpad from his father and looked at the picture. "That’s me!"

"Yes, it is. Justin drew that. He’s good, isn’t he?"

"Good," Gus agreed solemnly. "Like mommy."

"See, I told you," Brian said to Justin. "Lindsay is an artist too, so we Kinney men have been trained to recognize real talent."

Justin nodded absently, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he picked at an old scar running along his collarbone. It was a nervous habit Brian had noticed earlier in the day. Brian took Justin’s hand away. "Is that from the car accident when you were, what, five?" he asked, knowing full well it was. When Justin looked at him questioningly, Brian shrugged. "Your mother mentioned it," he lied.

Justin shifted uncomfortably, tugging on his collar to cover it up.

"I have one too," Brian added in consolation. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the long gash running along the inside of his arm, from his elbow to his armpit. Although it had healed ten years ago, it still glowed white against his tan.

Justin’s eyes flickered for a moment, then he looked away again. Brian paused. Did the boy remember?

"Me too," Gus interjected, not to be left out. He pushed his hair away from his forehead and revealed a small scratch he’d gotten a few days before when he’d crawled through the underbrush at day care.

It relieved the tension and Brian and Justin laughed.

"Well, that’s enough manly scar swapping for one day," Brian said dryly. "Next time we can talk about cars." Justin scoffed and Brian shook his head. "No cars, no pussy, what do you and your dad bond over? Sports?" he asked sarcastically.

"We don’t," Justin replied tersely, the humor gone from his eyes. "He tells me what I should like and we just do it."

"Like have company picnics for your birthday?"

"Yeah, I’m honored," the teen spat.

"I can tell."

Justin immediately apologized for his outburst. "I’m sorry, I’m glad you came. You’re the only one who really talked to me, everyone else was just here to kiss my dad’s ass." He glanced at Gus and covered his mouth. "Sorry."

Brian shook his head. "He’s heard worse."

Justin relaxed again. "Uh, and I don’t know anyone else who’s…uh, gay. So, thanks for telling me."

Brian smiled. "I bet you do, you just don’t know it. Or they don’t even know it. But you’re welcome."

Brian stood, but Justin remained sitting. "Want to walk back with us?" Brian asked.

Justin shook his head. "I’m going to stay and draw the sunset…but wait." He tore out the sketch of Gus. "You can have it."

Brian carefully rolled it up. "Thanks, but that’s hardly fair. It’s your birthday and you’re giving the gifts."

Justin shrugged. "Whatever."

Brian leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday."

Judging from the boy’s sharp breath, Brian figured he’d be the center of a few jerk-off fantasies the next few days. Probably gave the kid the best fucking present of his life.

"Brian," Justin called after them.

Brian man stopped and turned back.

"I wouldn’t have told my dad about…you know. Even if I wasn’t…"

"I know."

***

Brian was sitting next to the covered pool, smugly pleased with himself as he sipped his beer. Lindsay came out after tucking Gus into bed and handed him a jacket, but he didn’t need it. She laid it across his legs and sat in the chair next to him.

"Brian, I know I agreed…I don’t like this. Craig Taylor is a bastard for what he did, but Jennifer…and Justin, they don’t deserve to be hurt because of your…past."

She said it like it was HIS dirty secret. Brian turned his head and coolly flicked his eyes over her. "Are you forgetting she covered for him? She’s just as guilty."

"What about Justin?"

"Trust me, we’re doing him a favor."

"By destroying his family? All that does is make you feel better, but what about him? Brian, if anyone tried to hurt Gus, I’d do anything. And so would you. I’m not saying Craig Taylor shouldn’t pay, but I think Jennifer did what she did to protect her family. Please try to understand that and be the better man. Let it go."

She walked back to the house and Brian threw his beer bottle at the door, letting it smash around her feet. She wisely froze in place.

Brian stalked over to her and hissed, "Mikey may have pulled the trigger himself, but that fucker put the gun in his hand." He took her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. "You like Justin? How are you going to feel when Craig does the same thing to him?"

Her eyes widened and filled with tears. "No…"

"YES," Brian insisted. He hugged her tightly. "He’s gay, Linds, and I want him to have the chance to be a better man. His own man, instead of a sissy faggot whose dad made him ashamed of who he is."

Brian watched Lindsay’s resolve return and he struggled to keep the triumphant smile from his face. Fuck, he was good.

Still somber he said, "But you could be right about Jennifer. I can probably forgive her," no fucking way in hell, "if she stands up for Justin. And then everyone wins, but that bastard. Justin gets a chance at a better life out of the closet and Craig’s own homophobia will make the imagined social slights of his whispering neighbors drive him insane until he puts a gun to his own fucking head."

Lindsay shuddered and he squeezed her again. He lifted her up out of the glass so she didn’t get cut and carried her inside the house. "I’m sorry," he whispered contritely and gently kissed her cheek. "I’ll clean it up."

She nodded, wiping her eyes as he deposited her on the sofa. "So what are you going to do?"

Brian paced in front of here. "First, befriend the boy and teach him the ropes." He saw Lindsay’s mouth open in horror and he rolled his eyes. "Not THOSE ropes, I’m not into chicken. I mean, the poor kid doesn’t even know any gay people. I thought he could babysit Gus once in a while, meet some of our friends. See Liberty Avenue. We can show him there’s a community he can be part of instead of feeling like a freak." He sat next to her and took her hand, leaning in earnestly. Christ, he should get an Oscar tonight. "Shit, Linds, you saw how talented he is and his dad fucking stifles him. You could take him to the GLC and let him see the art exhibit next month. Then, when he’s ready," or I am, "he can tell his dad to fuck off."

She squeezed his arm and leaned against his shoulder. "You’re a good man, Brian."

He scowled, ignoring the sudden indigestion that hit. That’s what he got for drinking bottled piss. Screwing on a smirk he replied, "I’m fucking great, and my subjects await on their knees to suck the cock of the greatest stud in town."

She sighed as he disentangled himself and he knew she was thinking he’d never change. So, what was wrong with that?

***

As soon as Brian arrived at Babylon, he headed for the backroom. It only took him a moment to pull a prime piece of beef. The trick was built like a brick shithouse and had skin as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Mmm…speaking of…Brian squeezed his ass and the trick moaned, spreading his legs. Yes, he’d do. But first…

Brian pushed him to his knees and pulled out his cock. The trick eagerly fastened his lips around the hard shaft and Brian let the first jolt of pleasure crackle through him. As the man started bobbing up and down, Brian leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He was starting to tingle…the air was heavier…the smell of sex became thicker…

Behind his lids a vision of blond hair and blue eyes floated in front of him, creamy porcelain skin that smelled of apples and cinnamon…

Justin.

His eyes flew open as he started to come uncontrollably, bucking hard into the trick’s throat.

Brian barely registered pushing the man away as he stumbled out of the room and forcefully shouldered his way through the crowd to the bar. He ordered a double shot of Beam and sagged against the bar, still breathing heavily.

What the fuck was that? Christ, he felt like a goddamn pervert.

He slammed the shot, letting it burn into his gut and making his eyes water, but it didn’t clear the image of the boy from his mind.

Brian waved to the bartender for another. Even if it took all night, he’d eventually drown the little shit out.

***

"I have a present for you," Brian told Justin as they filled their plates at the grill.

Justin’s eyes lit up, flitting around to make sure no one else heard. "Really?"

Brian nodded. "Meet me in the park in an hour and I’ll give it to you."

Justin nodded before he went to a table and sat down. Brian took his plate back across the yard and sat down with Gus and Lindsay.

***

An hour later, Justin took the opportunity to sneak away by offering to run to the grocery store down the street for his mother and Brian slipped out a few minutes later to smoke.

When they met in the park, no one else was around, it was another wet, chilly, spring day like the year before. However, Brian wanted to be out of anyone’s view if they stumbled along, so he took Justin’s hand and pulled him toward the path that wound through the wooded area.

They walked along silently, Brian deliberately keeping his stride a little slower than normal not to wind the boy and set off an asthma attack. About a hundred yards into the woods, he figured they were safe and stopped. He was about to start with the presentation when he noticed a slightly overgrown path branching off toward the lake. Out of curiosity, he pushed through the foliage and shortly came to a small clearing by the water with a dilapidated bench set on the edge.

They were completely secluded. Christ, it couldn’t have been more perfect if he’d planned it.

He set Justin on the bench and carefully sat beside him. When he was sure the plank would hold both of them without falling apart, he relaxed.

"This is beautiful, Brian, thank you," the boy sighed, looking at the water.

"You’re welcome." Hell let the kid think it was intentional. Brian leaned back and stretched his arm along the back of the bench, hovering just above the boy’s shoulders. He knew it drove the kid nuts to be so close. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the new cell phone. "Happy birthday, sweet cheeks."

Justin took it and let it sit in his hand for a moment. "Uh, thanks, Brian, but I already have--"

"You already have one your dad gave you, this one’s from me."

Justin’s brows furrowed. "But how am I supposed to explain--"

"You’re not," Brian cut him off again, struggling to be patient. The kid didn’t seem to have a duplicitous bone in his body until Brian came along, but he still had a long way to go. "This one’s just for you. You keep the one your dad gave you for your normal day stuff, but if you ever want to call a new…friend that you don’t want your dad to know about, you can use that one. I’m going to pay the bill so your dad will never know who you’re talking to. You’re sixteen now, it’s none of his business who your friends are."

"Oh!" Justin exclaimed, his face beaming.

Dawn breaks. Jesus.

Brian leaned forward, his face just inches from the boy’s, peering down at the phone. "Open it." Justin did as he was told and Brian showed him how it worked. "And here," he hit the menu for the programmed numbers, "I put my new cell phone number here. If you want to call me for anything…you know, just between us, just hit one and no one will ever know." He pulled out his new matching phone. "And I have your number programmed in this one."

"Right, because my dad gave you a company phone too," Justin whispered as he put the pieces together. Brian almost laughed. It would be fun to see if he could get the kid to believe aliens were planting chips in his brain while he slept too…

"And don’t forget I live with a nosy woman," Brian added. That one wasn’t far from the truth. Christ, they used to have the perfect arrangement, but ever since Lindsay had taken Justin to her bosom, she was like a fucking bear protecting her cub. If Linds knew what he was up to now, she’d cut his balls off. But he wouldn’t let that stop him. Things had been progressing, but not in the manner he liked, so it was time to take the reins and steer them back on course.

After the bizarre incident in the backroom of Babylon the night he’d met Justin, Brian had thought maybe Lindsay had been right. He should just leave the kid alone-not for Justin’s sake, but for his own. He’d do anything to get Craig Taylor, but even he drew the line at child molesting. And that’s what Justin was. A child. He knew that. And Brian had been honest when he said he wasn’t going to fuck the kid--Christ, the thought made him sick--but he wasn’t above manipulating the boy’s attraction to him and that’s where the trouble lay.

Eventually, Brian had convinced himself he’d just gotten off on the idea of being so close to making Craig pay and Justin was the symbol of that retribution. He hadn’t come because of the kid, he wasn’t interested in underage twinks, but anyone would’ve come so hard their heads blew off if they’d been waiting as long as he had to make that fucker suffer for what he did. Yeah, that was all it was, and over the past twelve months, he kept reminding himself of that when he’d get a hard-on thinking of the blond boy with the perfect bubble butt. Sweet cheeks, Jesus.

If one kiss on the cheek had made Brian come that hard fantasizing about a blow job, the closer he got to fucking Craig over, he was afraid he couldn’t control himself and he would fuck the kid just for the spectacular release of FINALLY ending it. Brian didn’t generally have a problem controlling his emotions, but he knew when some were bubbling up from the confines of their tightly sealed pit and he made every effort to beat them back down. He knew in his gut making Craig Taylor suffer would cause an eruption like Mt. Vesuvius and Justin was the catalyst heating everything up.

He KNEW that, so he backed off and let Lindsay take charge of mentoring their new foundling and things had been working well for a while. Brian only had to step in recently when Justin required a male influence to guide him through a new crush. The older man still couldn’t believe Lindsay had introduced the boy to a fiddling protégé at the center a few months before.

How could she not know it was a fucking disaster waiting to happen? Teenagers were notoriously reckless when it came to their hormones so it wouldn’t be long before the two boys got caught jerking each other off in the driveway and all of his planning would be ruined. With his still fragile self-awareness barely flowering, Justin would be easily cow towed by Craig’s tyrannical control over his household and that fucker would win again.

So the solution, of course, was to quickly put an end to the budding affair. That was done easily enough. Brian simply brought the boy’s attention back to him again. A few lingering hugs, pecks on the cheek, and kind words, and Justin couldn’t remember the other kid’s name anymore.

Besides, given the year he had to observe and prepare, he was fully capable of taking on the tempting twink and keeping the upper hand now. And as of yesterday, when Justin turned sixteen, it all became perfectly legal… let the games begin.

"Now you have to be careful with this damn thing," Brian cautioned seriously, handing the phone back to Justin. "Don’t leave it on when you’re at home. If your dad finds it, we’re both in deep shit trouble."

"I won’t, I promise," Justin swore. "Oh, thank you, Brian," he suddenly cried, flinging his arms around Brian’s neck and hugging him.

Brian let him hold him for a moment before gently prying him off. He kissed his cheek and stood. "We should get back."

"Brian, wait," Justin stood in front of him, focused on the buttons of Brian’s jacket as his cheeks colored. "I-I…um…willyoukissme?"

Huh. Looked like the twink got a set of balls for his birthday. And here he’d been trying to plan a delicate way to make the first move.

Brian put his hand under the boy’s chin and tipped his head up so he could look him in the eye. "Justin, I’m flattered, but--"

"I just don’t want to be the only guy in my class who hasn’t kissed anyone yet," Justin quickly rushed to explain, squirming a little under Brian’s scrutiny.

Brian let his skepticism show. "What about Eric? No, it’s Ian--"

"Ethan," Justin supplied.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely forgotten yet. "Right, Ethan. I thought you two really hit it off."

Justin shrugged. "He’s alright, but…" Justin boldly looked him in the eye again. "How am I supposed to kiss him or anyone else if I don’t know what I’m doing? They’ll laugh at me. You have to help me!"

The kid was being overly dramatic again, but Brian had to give him points for a decent argument-from a horny teenager’s perspective. However, he still couldn’t give in that easily. "Justin, I understand, but that’s part of growing up. You experiment with boys your own age and learn it all together. That’s part of the fun."

"Okay, I understand. And you can keep your stupid present." Justin dropped the phone on the ground and started to walk away, but he only got two steps before Brian grabbed his arm.

"Excuse me?" Brian asked coolly.

"No, I will not," Justin snapped back. "You say you’re my friend and you want to help me, but when I ask you for one thing-the ONLY thing I’ve ever asked you for-you say no. You suck as a friend, Brian and I don’t want to see you anymore." He jerked his arm away and ran for the path again, but he stopped before he disappeared into the underbrush. "I knew you were just pretending all along."

Oh, shit…

"You never wanted to be my friend, did you? You just wanted to fuck me. I can tell by the way you look at me, but I still wanted you to because you’re hot, and…and I like you. So I gave you a chance, but you’re too chicken. Fuck you, Brian."

Brian took a deep breath as his heart started beating again… Goddamn that lesbian cunt! Yes, he blamed her for this. Obviously, Justin had picked up a few of Lindsay’s less desirable qualities-like thinking she knew how to manipulate Brian--when Brian hadn’t been paying attention. "Justin, wait!"

He jogged after the boy and caught him just before they joined the main path. The kid had to stop to puff his inhaler since he’d gotten himself worked up. Justin was wild-eyed as he struggled to maintain his breathing so Brian knew he needed to tread lightly or the kid would bolt again and how the fuck would he explain him keeling over on the path?

"Justin, you’re right…" Fuck, he could do this, "I do want you." Justin collapsed in his arms and Brian was grateful the kid hadn’t seen him blanch from his own words. Christ, he had to pull himself together before he choked on his tongue.

The boy’s arms wrapped around him and Brian mimicked the gesture. Justin buried his face in Brian’s neck and the older man let his nose delve into the soft blond locks. "That’s it, just relax," Brian murmured for both their sakes.

After a few moments, Brian released his hold. "Hey," he whispered.

Justin lifted his head and blue eyes so deep and trusting blinked up at him. For a second, Brian didn’t think he could go through with it. If he did this, there was no turning back.

"Justin, we shouldn’t do this, you’re too young."

"If I’m old enough to drive, essentially controlling a big piece of machinery that could potentially kill other people in my path, I think I’m old enough to decide who I want to make love with. And the lawmakers of the state of Pennsylvania agree."

Brian’s brain wouldn’t even register the car analogy, but he would’ve again been impressed with the kid’s logic if that fucking four-letter word hadn’t stuck in his craw. ‘I love you’ was just something straight people said to each other to get laid, but it was complete bullshit and Justin needed to learn that lesson before it was too late. Fucking was honest and efficient. You got a maximum of pleasure with a minimum of bullshit and you were a happier fag for it.

Any doubts Brian had about toying with the kid’s emotions were quickly banished. Hell, he could still use the kid to get back at his father and not lose a wink of sleep because in the end, breaking the boy’s heart would be doing him a BIG favor. Someday, Justin would thank Brian for teaching him that lesson early enough to save himself a lifetime of more heartache.

With renewed determination, Brian lowered his head and gave Justin his first kiss.

***

Brian parked the car, and waited for the trick to pull up behind him. Because it was raining, it had been an unseasonably warm December, still no snow, he ran ahead to the pool house and opened the door. He turned and held the door open for the other man and that’s when he saw Justin huddled under the tree next to his car. How had he not seen him when he pulled in?

Before he could react, the trick was on him, grinding against his crotch and kissing his neck. Brian saw the pain of betrayal slash across the boy’s wet face and he knew he had to act quickly.

Son of a bitch.

He pushed the trick away, taking his elbow and dragging him back down the driveway. As the rejected trick cursed at him, Brain looked over his shoulder at Justin and pointed back to the house. He assumed his face told the boy not to argue or he would beat his ass because Justin only hesitated for a second before he ran inside.

After getting rid of the trick, Brian returned to the house and found Justin shivering in the doorway. Brian started stripping off his wet clothes as he barked, "Jesus, Justin, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Who is he? Do you love him?" Justin asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. "No, Justin, he’s just a trick."

"You were going to fuck him? What about me?" the boy asked, his voice raising angrily.

"I’m not fucking you, am I?" Brian asked pointedly.

Justin looked as if he’d been slapped. "But you can, I want you to. I love you!"

"Justin--"

"You don’t love me, do you? If you did, you wouldn’t be fucking other guys!"

Oh, Christ, he was crying again. "Why the fuck do you think I’m fucking other guys?" Brian shouted back, taking him by the shoulders roughly. "Because I’m not fucking you! Don’t you get it? I WANT to fuck you, it’s making me fucking insane to not touch you like that, but I-I can’t do it. You’re not ready." Jesus, when did his life become an after school special?

He pulled Justin into his arms. "I don’t want to hurt you. But I can only jerk off just THINKING about you so many times." Justin sniffled against his shoulder and held him tighter, which Brian took as a sign he was buying it. But just to make sure… "You’re still here, Justin, and he’s not. What does that tell you?"

"You love me?" was the muffled response.

"Are you asking me?"

Justin lifted his head. "You love me," he said again, firmly.

If that’s what got him through the night, far be it for Brian to crush his dream. He kissed the boy’s soft cool lips, running his tongue over the plump flesh. Justin sighed and opened his mouth in submission. Their tongues tangled together, softly gliding against each other. Then Justin withdrew, playfully flicking his tongue over Brian’s parted lips to entice Brian to follow. The older man fell for the trap and found himself sucked into the boy’s wet heat.

Brian couldn’t contain a groan as he imagined that sweet suctioning mouth on his dick. The boy had definitely come a long way since that first bumbling kiss nine months ago. Brian hadn’t been lying about having to fuck other guys to quell his rampant desire to fuck that tight little ass. The kid was an unbelievable cock tease. On cue, Justin dropped to his knees, fumbling with Brian’s belt.

Regrettably, Brian pulled him back up. Tempting as that was, they’d never been together anywhere but their hidden bench at the park or parked on a deserted access road between their houses. Having Justin suck him off ten yards from Lindsay made him unbelievably fucking nervous. Not to mention the other two controlled environments had limited their action so Brian had been able to maintain an aura of need that drove the boy crazy for him without giving in just yet…

It was all about control--and timing.

So, the fucking kid was derailing his plans again. Christ, why was he surprised anymore?

"What’s wrong?" Justin asked frowning.

"Besides the fact that my nuts are shriveled raisins in these wet pants?" Brian snarked, slipping the rest of his clothes off. "What are you doing here?" he asked again as he started taking the boy’s clothes off too since Justin didn’t seem to understand he was going to catch pneu-he was going to get sick if he didn’t warm up.

"Um…my dad is taking us…Brian, what are you doing?" he asked shyly.

Brian would’ve thought it was cute if he wasn’t so fucking hard seeing the kid’s pale skin blush pink as he stood naked in front of him. Jesus, Justin had his dick in Brian’s mouth all summer, and now he was embarrassed because Brian was looking at it?

And that ass. Okay, so the kid probably felt Brian’s eyes burning another hole into him. Thought he was old enough to handle hard core fucking, huh? Jesus, kids.

"Come on." He took the boy’s hand and pulled him to the bathroom. "We’re getting in the shower before you’re a popsicle."

Brian adjusted the taps and stepped under the steamy spray, tugging Justin in beside him.

"Ooh…" Justin gasped. "That’s too…gooood…ahhh…"

For a moment, Brian thought maybe it was too hot, the kid was already red as a lobster from the hard spray beating on his skin, but he seemed to adjust quickly enough. Brian turned him around and pushed his head under, wetting the blond hair. As he soaped Justin’s head, he again asked why the teen had come.

Justin frowned, obviously dismayed by reality crashing into their steamy little cocoon. "My dad’s taking us to Paris for Christmas, to visit my mom’s uncle. Some rich old guy who’s about to die. I guess dad wants to be sure we get some money."

"So?" Brian asked as he rinsed the soap out.

"I’ll be gone for a whole month, Brian! I don’t want to go-I can’t go. What about us? I want to stay here with you!"

"Absolutely. Fucking. Not."

"But--"

"Justin, are you insane? Do you want us to get caught?"

"I don’t care," the boy hissed. "I want us to be together. I hate hiding!"

"Justin, If your dad finds out--"

"He can’t do anything! I’m six-almost seventeen!"

"That just means he can’t have me arrested, but he can still do plenty! Do you want me to lose my job? What about Lindsay and Gus? This involves more people than just us. And what do you think he’s going to do to you? He’ll certainly forbid you from ever seeing me again."

"I won’t let him!"

"What are you going to do? Run away? And go where?" Before Justin could say it, Brian held up his hand. "You can’t stay here. How am I going to support all four of us if I don’t have a job? And who the hell would hire me after it got out I was fucking the boss’ teenage son?"

"My mom wouldn’t let him do that," Justin interjected vehemently. "If she knew I loved you she would help us."

Brian shook his head. "She may not care that you’re gay, but she will certainly care that you’re sleeping with someone who’s twelve years older than you. It’s just too big a gap, especially since you’re still in high school!"

"But--"

"No, end of discussion," Brian cut him off tersely. "Justin, we’ve already talked this to death a hundred times. If you don’t like keeping our relationship a secret until you graduate, then we’re through. I can’t be with someone who is only going to think about himself."

Justin gaped at him. "No, Brian! I didn’t mean-I’m sorry. Don’t send me away!"

Brian couldn’t tell if those were tears on his cheeks because they were in the shower, but the trembling lip was a pretty good give away. The kid’s waterworks were as dependable as Old Faithful. "Are you going to go on vacation with your family and not cause any problems?"

Justin hung his head in defeat. "Yes."

"Good boy." Brian lifted his chin. "It won’t be that bad, you’ll see. Once you get there, you’ll be so busy the time will fly by. You can even take your phone and call me once in a while, but don’t get caught, okay?"

The boy nodded.

"Besides, it’s probably better you’ll be gone, I won’t have a lot of free time myself. I have family obligations too." Riiiight. But there was the Jingle Balls contest at Babylon. And Deck the Stud at the Tool Shed. Lots of Christmas cheer to go around…

"Now, how did you get here? What did you tell your parents?" Brian asked, pulling his thoughts back to the little present at hand.

"I waited until they went to bed and I snuck out. Then I called a cab."

"Jesus, Lindsay could’ve seen you!"

"I had him drop me down the street and I walked up the alley." The boy was learning. "I was careful. I just didn’t know it was going to rain. I almost went home."

Brian picked up the soap and started lathering the boy’s chest. He made big soapy circles down to his cock, giving the growing shaft a few quick swipes before moving around to cup the boy’s luscious bubble butt. "I’m glad you didn’t."

He let his soapy fingers slip into the crack and circle the puckered opening.

Justin eyes widened. "W-what are you doing?" he asked coyly.

Brian flashed a feral grin. "Making sure you’re squeaky clean for a little dirty playtime. You up for it?"

Justin gulped. "Are you going to--"

All that bluster and bravado dissipated awfully quick.

"No, we’re not going to fuck…yet. We need to build up to that slowly…and I want all night when we do. Tonight, I’m just gonna show you something new, if you want, before I take you home."

The boy nodded. Put at ease, his eyes blazed bright with anticipation.

***

"Now you know what rimming is," Brian smirked as he settled next to the panting boy, kissing his shoulder. He rolled Justin onto his side so the boy’s back was against his chest. He bit back a moan as the boy wiggled against his neglected cock. "Be still," he chastised, putting a few inches between them again.

"Brii-an," Justin pouted.

"Juus-tin," Brian mimicked playfully, lubing his fingers. He let one slip between the boy’s cheeks, rubbing against the loosened opening, and Justin moaned. "Just relax," he whispered soothingly as he eased a finger into the tight hole.

Justin whimpered and Brian stilled his hand.

"Easy…" Brian kissed the boy’s neck, his other hand gliding over Justin’s chest, fingers teasing the hard nubs. Justin moaned again, arching into his touch. Brian knew he was adjusting to the intrusion so he withdrew and pushed in again.

"Ungh…Bri…" Justin’s head turned to the side, his eyes glazed.

"Like that?" Brian asked as the boy starting moving his hips. "How about that?" Brian nudged Justin’s prostate and the boy’s eyes popped open.

"Oh, god!"

Brian smirked and removed his finger. "Give me your hand." He lubed Justin’s fingers and guided his hand to his ass. "Now you do it." The boy looked shocked, but Brian insisted, "Touch yourself, Justin, see how good it feels." Justin’s blush deepened, but he did it. "Go slow," Brian warned, stroking his hip. The boy awkwardly moved his finger in and out until he got used to it.

"Mmmm…"

Brian nuzzled his ear. "Good boy…now another."

Justin started to insert another finger until he felt the uncomfortable stretch.

"Go on, you’ll get used to it again," Brian encouraged.

Justin bit his lip and nodded, pushing through the tight ring. Brian reached around and stroked his flagging erection to take the boy’s mind off the discomfort. Soon Justin was thrusting into his hand and moaning excitedly again.

"Please…" his head rolled on Brian’s shoulder. "I…I need…"

"Okay, sweet cheeks." Brian let go of his cock and gently dislodged Justin’s hand. The boy grunted his disapproval and Brian chuckled. "Horny little bottom now?" Justin just blinked at him, pouting, until Brian rolled him onto his back. He settled between the boy’s spread legs, sliding two slick fingers into the relaxed hole and Justin purred, pushing down to urge him deeper. Brian stroked his prostate and the boy mewled loudly. "You want to come now?"

"Yesss," Justin hissed.

Brian took pity on him and wrapped his lips around the head of Justin’s cock. He flicked the leaking tip with his tongue and Justin groaned, clutching the older man’s head. Brian knew Justin wouldn’t start thrashing and choke him, he’d taught they boy well, so he continued to tease until Justin was practically screaming.

He lifted his head, surveying the sweat-slicked heaving torso and the boy’s wild blue eyes, dark as midnight, as they stared back. "Come for me," he ordered before finally taking the entire shaft in his mouth.

Justin bucked uncontrollably, working his ass onto Brian’s fingers as he pushed Brian’s head further down on his dick. Brian relaxed his throat and let Justin pleasure himself until the boy came hard.

Brian moved back up and settled next to the trembling form again. He detested cuddling, self-respecting fags did NOT snuggle after coming, but he knew Justin liked to be held until he stopped shaking so he ignored his own impulse to roll away and wrapped his arms around the boy.

"That was amazing," Justin sighed, burrowing closer. "Thank you."

Brian smirked. "Now your trip won’t be so bad will it? When you miss me, you can remember what it’s like to feel me inside you."

Justin blushed and giggled, demurely looking up at the older man. "What if I want to suck you?"

Brian raised an eyebrow. "Then you’ll have something to look forward to when you get back, but in the meantime…" He rolled onto his back in invitation. He was still hard since he hadn’t come yet and when his boy got that eager glint in his eye, he knew he wouldn’t be neglected much longer.

Sure the kid was naïve, but his exuberance more than made up for it.

***

Brian dropped Justin off down the street from his home a few hours later. "When you get inside call me, so I know you didn’t get caught," he instructed. "And don’t sneak out again-it’s not worth the risk!"

"But when will I get to see you again?" the boy whined.

"We’ll find time," Brian assured him. "And if you get horny in the meantime, you know what to do."

"Brian," Justin moaned and Brian knew he’d be playing with his ass again as soon as he got to bed.

"Sweet dreams," he grinned as he pushed the boy from the car.

***

Brian quickly drove to Babylon to get another trick after he was assured Justin was safely tucked in. As he drove his cock into the tight heat of the first willing man who bent over, he couldn’t stop himself from remembering the blond boy ass writhing in his bed. Hell, he didn’t even try.

***

"It hurts," Justin hissed. "Does it always hurt?"

Brian kissed his neck. "A little bit, that’s part of it…or so I’ve been told. I for one have never had any desire to put a hole in my tit, so..." Justin was holding his shirt up and examining his new nipple ring, another present for his seventeenth birthday, but Brian was ready to collect his due for taking the boy to get pierced. He tugged the offending garment over Justin’s head and pulled him away from the mirror. "But if you remember last night, sometimes a little pain can be a good thing. In fact, I do believe it was just this morning you said," he raised his voice slightly to mimick the boy, "‘Oh, Brian, I’m so sore! But it feels sooo good, I can still feel you inside me.’ Ring any bells?"

But Justin was still gingerly feeling around the new ring. "Is it really supposed to be this bad?"

Brian rolled his eyes and swatted Justin’s hand away. "Weren’t you paying attention when they were explaining everything to you?"

Justin scowled at him. "I was too busy trying not to pass out and embarrass myself."

"Too late for that after you screamed like a girl."

"Fucker," Justin mumbled, shoving the man away.

"Come here," Brian laughed, pulling the boy down on the bed with him. "Let me kiss it and make you feel better."

Justin put up a hand to hold him back. "You can’t touch it," he reminded Brian.

"I wasn’t talking about that hole," Brian smirked, squeezing the boy’s ass.

Justin moaned, but Brian couldn’t quite tell if it was good or bad. Shit, as much as he wanted to fuck the boy again, he didn’t want to hurt him. "Or if you don’t want to ride my dick, you can just suck it," he offered magnanimously. Brian rolled onto his back and pulled the boy on top of him, "But either way, you owe me for your little adventure."

Justin sat back, letting Brian’s hardening cock nestle between his cheeks. "Riiight," the teen drawled. "I’m onto you, Brian. You think it’s hot. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let me do it."

Cocky little shit. "I didn’t LET you do anything, it’s your body, your decision. You’re old enough to make up your own mind."

Justin ran his hands over the older man’s chest, tweaking his nipples roughly. "You think it’s hot," he repeated. "You can’t wait to pull on it with your teeth and make me scream your name."

Brian coolly managed to keep his face blank, although uncontrollable heat was pooling in his belly. "I can make you scream right now, I don’t have to wait."

The boy’s eyes sparkled. "Do it."

Alright, now the kid had asked for it. Brian bucked the boy off his lap and quickly flung his legs over the side of the bed and flipped Justin around so he was sprawled across Brian’s thighs. The boy squirmed, but Brian had a firm hold. "You’re not too old to be spanked, little boy," Brian growled, punctuating his statement with a stinging swat.

"Brian!" the boy squealed, doubling his efforts to get away.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. Brian hit the other cheek, carefully eyeing the red mark that rose to the surface of the creamy flesh. Beautiful. Several more blows had Justin’s bottom warmed nicely. He pinched the red skin, drawing another whimper from the boy. Brian could feel Justin’s erection poking his thigh so he knew the kid wasn’t really distressed. He leaned over and nuzzled the back of Justin’s neck. "Are you going to be good now?" he asked, his breath against the boy’s ear making him shudder.

Justin wiggled a little, moaning incoherently.

"I can’t hear you, sweet cheeks, what’s it gonna be? Suck or fuck?"

"Fuck…you."

Oh, so Justin thought he was going to win this game?

"Just for that, you get five more—with a paddle."

Justin finally lifted his head and looked him square in the eye. "Ten."

Brian’s cock twitched in anticipation. "Deal."

***

Since Justin won the first round of negotiations, the arrogant brat generously agreed that Brian could pick which position they used to finally fuck. And since he had been the one doing all the work to this point, Brian decided it was the boy’s turn. He stretched out on his back and had the boy climb aboard.

Brian groaned as Justin swiftly sank down on his cock. But Justin got more than he bargained for so the boy’s cocky grin quickly turned to a grimace. Brian’s hands clawed at his slippery skin to pull him back up, muttering, "Jesus, don’t hurt yourself," but as quickly as the pain appeared, it seemed to be lost in a rush of pleasure.

Justin’s mouth hung open as he shifted around, grinding Brian deeper. The boy who had just lost his virginity a few hours earlier had suddenly become an insatiable little masochist.

"Oh-oh-a… ahhh…Brian…"

Entranced by the feel of the tight tunnel pulsing around him and watching the myriad of expressions playing across Justin’s face, Brian couldn’t manage to do anything but let the boy enjoy his ride.

Fuck, he loved this kid’s ass.

He almost regretted not being able to keep it around.

***

When Brian woke a few hours later, Justin was snuggled against his chest, staring at the new ring on his finger as it gleamed in the afternoon sun. On impulse, Brian brought the hand to his lips and kissed it.

What the fuck?

Brian bolted up, dislodging his young companion and the boy’s happy smile.

"What’s wrong?"

"We gotta go," Brian snapped tersely.

"Brian, it’s only two, it’s fine," Justin tried to reassure him.

"It’s not fine," Brian bellowed. He saw Justin cower back and immediately regretted his outburst. Shit. He tiredly sank to the bed and held out his arms. "Justin, come here." Justin let himself be held, but he was clearly nervous. Brian kissed his temple. "You’re right. I just got… disoriented."

Christ, that was an understatement!

And Justin obviously wasn’t buying it. "Maybe it is time to go," the boy said softly. "I know you have to get ready for your trip tomorrow and--"

"Justin, stop, I don’t want you to leave yet, I just--"

"You freaked out."

As sheepish as it made him feel, the kid was right. Brian nodded. "Yeah, I got confused, I thought it was later and--"

"Bullshit. You freaked out because you gave me this ring."

Fuck. How the hell…

Justin pulled back a little so they were eye to eye. "Do you want it back?"

Yes. "No." Brian could tell Justin didn’t believe him. He tugged on the boy’s arm and slid him around so Justin was sitting on his lap facing him. "Look, I just have a lot on my mind. You, your dad, us. I’m just afr—concerned things might get out of hand. But we can’t go back now, so we’ll have to deal. You okay with that…if something, um, happens?"

Justin looked at him quizzically. "I’m the one who said we should just tell them and you’re the one who wanted to wait, so why are you asking me this now?"

Brian didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about either so how could he answer that?

"Shit, I don’t know," he muttered, resting his chin on Justin’s shoulder. "No wait, I do. You’re such a goddamn drama princess all the time, obviously you’re rubbing off on me. I should see if I can get a shot or something."

Justin feigned annoyance. "Really? Well, I got your ‘shot or something’," he huffed before erupting into playful giggles. "Right here," he added, wiggling his cock at the older man. "Maybe if you swallow another dose, you’ll build up your immunity."

Brian took the offered ‘injection’, wishing it were really that simple.

Then the phone rang.

***

By the time he dropped Justin off at home a few hours later, Brian had had enough time to bolster his resolve again and was feeling back to normal. He blamed his nerves on knowing that things would be ending soon. Of course he was having doubts, if he didn’t pull this off just right, he would’ve wasted twelve years of planning.

"Brian, you okay?"

Brian turned to the boy, a genuine smile finally emerging again. "Never better, sweet cheeks."

Justin finally seemed reassured. "Good," he replied as he got out of the car. "Bye."

"Justin," Brian leaned over to stop him from shutting the door and the blond head popped back in.

"Yeah?"

Brian touched the ring on the boy’s finger. "This means no good-byes. From now on, I am always going to be with you, no matter what. Remember that, okay?"

Justin stared at him, happily blinking back tears. "O-okay."

Brian smiled again, wiping away a stray tear that escaped. "Good. I’ll call you later then."

"Later," Justin echoed before shutting the door.

Despite the inevitable pain he was about to inflict, Brian hoped someday the boy would remember he hadn’t always been a bad guy.

He pulled out his cell phone and called the trick he’d hired to take the pictures of Justin’s deflowering. He waited for him to answer and set up a time to meet. Brian couldn’t wait to see the photographs.

***

Brian had been right, they were hot. After choosing a few choice shots to be messengered to Craig the morning of Justin’s birthday—just a few hours before the party—he selected one to keep for himself as a souvenir.

It was by far the best one. Lots of pink skin and that expressive angelic face twisted in rapture for the first time. The ones he’d chosen for Craig weren’t that revealing. Brian didn’t want to mortify the boy, after all Justin had been just a means to an end, but the selected photos definitely left no room for interpretation.

Craig’s sweet baby boy was definitely getting his ass fucked.

Okay, so Justin would be embarrassed anyway, the boy blushed so easily--as was shown in exquisite detail, that trick really was a fantastic photographer--but Brian figured it was a minor consequence considering it would ultimately spare the poor kid another disappointing company picnic that lamely doubled as his birthday celebration. That had ultimately been his final reasoning for choosing that day. His one little concession to Justin to prove he’d meant well in the end…

When planning his vengeance against Craig Taylor, the timing had been considered carefully. So many dates to choose from… the day of the accident… the day Vic died… the day Mikey committed suicide… the day Brian became someone else… but in the end, it all came down to Justin…

He’d been instrumental in making it happen, so it was only fair he get some reward…in the end…

Brian took one last drag from the joint and washed it down with another swig from the bottle of Beam. All these thoughts about the end were killing his buzz. He’d rather think about tight ends.

He put the photograph down and struggled to get up. Time for Babylon. But before he could locate his keys, he’d stumbled over his own goddamn feet and landed back on the bed. Maybe he was too buzzed to drive. Hey, that was alright, he could call the tricks to come to him. He picked up his phone from the nightstand and hit speed dial. Speedy delivery…

Justin answered after the second ring. "Brian."

Brian was surprised, but this was better than a trick. This boy had the best ass he'd ever fucked. "Hey, sweet cheeks, what's up?"

"Just laying here, waiting for you. What are you doing?"

"Just laying here, waiting for you," Brian repeated. "I want to fuck you."

Justin’s breath hitched on the other end of the line and Brian chuckled. "You started without me."

"What?"

"You’re jerking off, aren’t you?"

"No, I--"

"Come on, sweet cheeks, you can’t lie to me, I know you’re horny. You’re sixteen for fuck’s sake. When aren’t you jerking off?" He cradled the phone against his shoulder and lit another joint. He expelled the first hit and settled back for the game. "Tell me what you’re doing."

"I’m not!" the boy insisted. "My parents might catch me. Or hear."

Right, right, right… that’s why they hadn’t had phone sex before. "Okay, then let’s try this. You be as quiet as a church mouse—put your shorts in your mouth if you have to—and I’ll tell you what to do. You have to do everything exactly as I say."

"Bri--"

"Put your fingers in your ass and tell me how good it feels. Tell me you wish it were my dick filling your tight little hole. Tell me," he took another hit, "how much you love it," he sputtered as the smoke burned his lungs and he started to cough.

"Brian? Are you okay? Brian, answer me!"

Shit, shit, fuck.

Brian swallowed a couple gulps of Beam, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he put out the joint. He coughed some more clearing his throat. "Stop shouting," he barked hoarsely. "You’ll wake up your parents."

"Are you okay?"

Brian shook his head, forgetting Justin couldn’t see him. "No, I’m not okay," he snapped back.

"Brian, are you drunk?"

That was a relative term and given their past history, not something he felt like debating at the moment. He had other things on his mind.

"If your dad finds out about us, do you want to come live here?" he asked brusquely.

"What? Brian, you said--"

"Never mind that. Would you?"

"Brian, you’re scaring me."

Shit. He didn’t mean to do that. "Just answer me. I promise it’ll be okay."

"Yes, I want to be with you forever."

Brian nodded to himself. "Good."

"Brian, please tell me what’s going on!"

"I just don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? When your dad finds out about us, you don’t have to worry."

"What do you mean? You said we can’t tell him until I--"

Brian’s head was spinning, but he did realize he may have revealed too much. He tried to shake off the dizzying haze and focus… "Can you wait that long, until you graduate? I thought you wanted to tell him now."

"But you said you need this job. What about Gus and Lindsay? Brian, I understand--"

"No, you don’t understand. Listen to me. Listen. I got another job."

Justin gasped. "That’s what dad was so mad about! Why didn’t you tell me?"

Because you weren’t supposed to know. "Because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up. But that was what that phone call was about today." The final piece of the plan—until Brian started formulating another plan in the last five minutes.

"Oh, my god, Brian this is great!"

"Shhh, keep it down," Brian hissed. "It doesn’t mean anything’s changing tomorrow, but…soon. When everything’s set. And Justin, your dad only knows I’m being headhunted, I’m not going to tell him I’m accepting the job, so don’t say anything."

"Okay. I love you, Brian."

Brian closed his eyes and squeezed the phone tighter. Shit, the kid didn’t expect him to start saying it back now, did he? "Later, sweet cheeks."

Brian tossed the phone aside and flopped back on the bed. Fuck it, he was keeping the kid.

Wouldn’t Craig just love that?

***

The next morning, Brian felt like a jackhammer was splitting his skull open. He saw the opened bag of pot and papers discarded on the nightstand and the forgotten bottle of Beam had spilled under the bed. He picked it up and took a hard gulp from the little bit left inside. Slowly his conversation with Justin filtered back into his mind.

He hunched over with his elbows on his knees as he cradled his head. What the fuck had he done? He vaguely even remembered some poppers and other disco pharmaceuticals earlier in the evening in preparation for Babylon, but he’d never gotten there because of the goddamn pot.

Fucking seed of Satan. Because of it he was stuck with another kid he didn't want.

***

"Craig wants to see you right away," Cynthia told Brian when he entered the office.

He rolled his eyes showing just how much he cared what Craig wanted. "Will you run across the street and get me a double latte and one of those thingies Lindsay likes so much?" Cynthia and Lindsay were tight friends and supported each other’s donut habit so she knew what he was talking about.

Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "You want a crawler? Rough night?"

"Want a rough day?" he snapped.

"Be right back, Boss," she wisely replied, but he heard her snickering down the hall. Cunt.

Brian had just set down his briefcase and removed his jacket when Craig stormed into his office and slammed the door shut.

"Were you even going to tell me?" he bellowed.

Brian winced as the noise reverberated in his head. But he wasn't going to let Craig think he was rattled about being caught signing on with a compeitor. He needed to continue the ruse that he'd been in Albany with his distressed 'wife' and injured mother-in-law -- instead of fucking Justin's tight virgin ass.

"She’s fine, thanks for asking," Brian replied tightly.

Craig gaped at him, obviously taking a moment to pull his thoughts together, then, "Right, your mother-in-law…glad to hear it."

Brian sank into his chair and squinted against the glaring overhead lights as he looked up at the other man. "That wasn’t what you were talking about though, was it?" he asked, deliberately appearing confused.

"You look terrible, are you feeling alright?"

"Fine, just a long night, you know. Gus misses his mom." Craig nodded understandingly. Sucker. "So what did you want to talk to me about? Something wrong with my trip this afternoon?" Brian asked. He wanted Craig to believe he was still loyal, eager to please.

"No, no, that’s fine, if you’re up to it," Craig waved him off.

"I’m fine."

"Good... ah, Brian," Craig sat in the chair across from him, looking contritely at the desktop, "I wanted to talk to you about a call I got yesterday. From Stern and Meyer.

Brian furrowed his brows. "Oh?"

"You didn’t know?" Craig asked anxiously.

Brian shook his head. "I talked to them a few weeks ago when they approached me, but I told them I wasn’t interested." At least until next month. "Why? What did they say to you?"

Craig stood, obviously relieved. "Nothing important. Take the rest of the morning off and relax before your flight."

"Thanks, but I have that meeting with Jo--"

"We can handle it, go on. I want you in top form for tomorrow."

Brian wasn’t letting that fucker close his deal, he wanted to take the Johannsen furniture account with him when he went to Stern’s. "I’m ALWAYS on top," he assured his boss.

But Craig shook his head. "That’s an order, Brian. Go home." He turned back from the door. "Your son needs you."

Worry about your own, asshole. Brian glared after him as Criag let himself out. Venting his irritation, he swiped his arm across his desk and sent his briefcase skittering across the floor.

"Brian?" Cynthia held up his breakfast to prevent his wrath from being directed at her as well.

He waved her in and she set the bag and cup on the desk, then picked up his briefcase, and set it beside the desk. "Can I do anything else?"

He shook his head, knowing better than to open his mouth and take more of his anger out on her. He wanted her to come with him to Stern’s, so alienating her now was not in his best interest. She left him alone and he sat tapping his long fingers on the desktop, devising a new strategy regarding the Brown Athletics campaign. If he played it right, he could sign them to an exclusive contract instead.

Brian was about to call Cynthia back in to do some last minute fact checking when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

Justin.

Could the morning get any worse?

***

When Brian got to their bench, Justin was already there. It was obvious the boy had been crying, but his eyes were dry now.

Dry and dull.

Brian cursed under his breath as he held his arms open and Justin sagged into him. Brian immediately noted it wasn’t a dramatic collapse worthy of his princess’ ability and the knot in his stomach tightened.

Ever since Justin called and asked to meet him, just politely asked, no sobbing or pleading like a few days before when Justin been hysterical about the birthday party, Brian had a bad feeling. He’d assumed it had something to do with his phone call last night and although he really didn’t want to talk about it, he knew better than to upset the boy before he left. He’d just been sent home anyway, so he agreed to meet Justin in the park.

But now, Brian could see it was something much more serious, something that had beaten the boy’s spirit down and left him numb. Justin had seemed to age two years in two days. Brian angrily pushed aside the empathetic feelings that bubbled up. "What did he do?" he asked tersely, knowing it his gut it was something Craig had done.

Justin took a deep breath and pulled away from Brian’s chest, sitting back against the bench and staring at the lake. "Do you think I’m a sissy faggot?"

Jesus Christ, where the fuck was this going?

"I think you’re a drama princess, rather prone to theatrics, but I assumed it’s your artistic nature," he replied, trying to keep it light. Until he saw Justin’s eyes close and his shoulders slump further. Shit. "But, no, I don’t think you’re a sissy, Justin. You’ve never wanted to hide who you are or that we’re together and that’s very brave." He turned Justin’s head to look at him. "I mean it." And he did, surprising himself.

"Despite my ‘artistic nature’?"

"That has nothing to do with it. Your talent is just another part of who you are, but it isn’t why you’re gay and you don’t have it because you’re gay. You know--"

"That’s not what my dad thinks."

Brian squeezed his shoulder, biting back a retort. "So what happened?"

"My grandparents showed up this morning to surprise me for my birthday. They decided to come a day early and my parents even let me take the day off from school to spend with them."

"So why are you here?"

"Before we even finished breakfast, my dad and Grandpa started talking about Dartmouth. And of course, everyone just assumes that’s where I’m going. So, I told them I want to go to art school. I’ve never wanted to go to business school. I figured it would be best to get it out in the open now before I start filling out applications in a couple months."

Oh, fuck.

"Dad’s response was his son is not going to be some sissy faggot artist. I’m not allowed to have anymore art supplies or take any elective classes next year. And he ordered me to clean out my room by tomorrow, or he’ll do it for me."

"What the fuck? TODAY he decides to become a First Class prick?"

Justin hung his head again. "Mom said I embarrassed him in front of my grandparents."

"Bullshit," Brian snapped. "You were just being honest. And what happened to your mom’s unwavering support?"

"She supports ‘my hobby’, but she also assumed I would work for my dad too. She said she’d talk to dad about it later, but she didn’t want to make a bigger scene in front of her parents."

That got Brian’s attention. "HER parents? What’s her relationship like with her dad?"

Justin scowled. "Like mine. I always thought that was why she put herself between us." He paused for a moment, picking at the peeling paint on the bench. "And sometimes I think she only married my dad to make her parents happy. And dad’s definitely happy to be the son they never had. Especially since his parents died when he was in college. He likes to make it sound like he worked hard to get to the top, but Grandpa just turned everything over to him when he had his stroke a few years ago because he didn’t trust anyone else and he wanted to keep control of the firm in the family. So, of course it would make dad look bad if I’m a sissy faggot artist instead of a chip off the old piece of shit block. Grandpa might take his toys away in punishment, so instead he’s taking mine."

Brian knew the kid had a rough time with his dad, but he didn’t realize the boy was so bitter. "Why didn’t you tell me this before?"

Justin shrugged. "You didn’t seem interested."

Shocked, Brian struggled to keep his composure. He pulled Justin to him and wrapped his arm around Justin's shoulders. "Why the hell would you say that? Haven’t I been--"

Justin looked up at him, his big blue eyes staring at Brian flatly. "Yes, you’ve always come when I asked you to, but we always fooled around instead of talking. You never seemed interested in anything else."

Nervously, Brian retorted, "If I’m such an asshole, why do you want to see me anymore?"

"Because I know you can have anyone you want and you’re still with me. Because I knew if I really needed to talk, you would." Justin smiled slightly. "Like now. I know you think I'm just a kid, but you've never really treated me like one. Not like my mom and dad. You love me."

"Whatever," Brian muttered defensively and the kid actually laughed. Little fucker. Brian looked at his watch, annoyed at the kid’s audacity. "I have a plane to catch. What does this have to do with your dad? I don’t know what you expect me to do about it."

Justin sighed. "I just needed to see you. I wanted to know someone understands… or even fucking cares about what I want."

"Justin--"

"Can you tell me why my dad hates me?" he asked softly. "I’ve never done anything to make him ashamed of me, but it’s like he’s always just assumed I would, so he’s been punishing me all along. How much more do I have to put up with?"

"None," Brian seethed angrily before he restrained himself. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else because he feared saying too much as he had been doing lately. Instead, he took comfort in the thought that tomorrow Justin would be out and out of his dad’s house. The photographs being special delivered to Craig would see to that. "Come here," he said more gently and pulled the boy to him, but Justin put his hand up, holding him back.

"Brian, what’s going on?" he asked suspiciously.

The older man pulled more insistently until Justin settled against him, but the boy still wouldn’t relax. Brian nuzzled his temple to soothe him. "Nothing, I just--"

Justin shook his head, craning his neck to look up at the other man. "That was not nothing. And neither was last night."

"That has nothing to do with this," Brian cut in.

"I tried to tell myself you were just drunk, but I don’t believe it," Justin continued anyway. "You’ve told me repeatedly that we had to wait to tell my parents about us, but then last night you said it didn’t matter anymore. Why?"

God dammit, he knew that was going to bite him in the ass. "All I said was if--"

"IF my dad finds out about us, it’ll tear my family apart." Justin took a deep breath. "And I can’t do that to them."

Brian felt like he’d been punched in the gut. "Excuse me? Two seconds ago you couldn’t put up with it anymore, but now you’re going to let them dictate the rest of your life?"

Justin recoiled a little at his outburst, but stared back at him resolutely. "No, but I can’t deliberately hurt them just because I’m mad at my dad."

"Justin, telling them who you are is not deliberately hurting them. Not telling them only hurts you!"

"I’m going to tell them, but not like this. How can I expect them to respect me if they find out I’ve been lying to them about you for the past two years?"

What the fuck? NOW he wanted to keep it a secret?

"That’s your dad’s own fault for being a homophobic asshole," Brian ground out.

"What about my mom?"

"What about her?" Brian glowered. "What EXACTLY did she do for you this morning?"

"Brian, I can’t--"

"Yes, you can!" he shouted. Brian saw Justin shrink away from him and he turned his back in disgust.

Fuck it. He didn’t need the kid. He had the pictures and they would still do the job.

Brian started to walk away, tuning out the sudden sniffling that he knew was a weak attempt at holding back the wailing sobs Justin had perfected, when he couldn’t help but notice they never came. The abrupt silence sent a chill down his spine.

When he turned back, Justin was still sitting on the bench. His face was expressionless and hard as stone, except for the almost imperceptible trembling of his lower lip.

The sight was so…WRONG.

Brian’s heart lurched in his chest. What had he done? He suddenly realized he was no better than Craig, and that was a worse feeling than the unrelenting pain he’d endured over the past twelve years.

He warily reached out and touched the boy’s arm. "Justin, I--"

"H-He’s my…my d-dad…" The crystal blue eyes filled with tears, but they didn’t spill.

God, he was a bastard.

"I know." He kissed the wet lashes and felt the salty stream run over his lips. Then Justin clutched him like a drowning man.

Back in familiar territory, Brian sagged on the bench in relief and held Justin while he cried himself out.

***

"Let’s go to get your art stuff," Brian said later, when Justin had calmed down. "We’ll tell your mom you’re giving it to Lindsay so it doesn’t go to waste. Then you can use it when you come over, but your dad will think you’re being a good little boy."

"Really?" Justin asked hopefully.

Brian nodded, thumbing away the last stray tear.

Justin leaned into his touch, but still held his gaze. "Why?"

Jesus, the kid had lived in a fairy tale all his life, but NOW he was taking off the rose-colored glasses? Again, Brian was reminded Justin had been paying closer attention than he gave him credit for. But that hardly seemed to matter now.

Brian shifted, pulling the boy closer, and was gratified to hear the content sigh as Justin burrowed against him. "Because I want you to be happy," he whispered into the blond hair nestled under his chin. He tipped Justin’s head up and kissed him softly.

"You make me happy," Justin replied. "I just need more time to figure out how to make them understand."

Brian shook his head. "Justin, I--" What? What the fuck was he going to tell him? How was he going to make him understand who his dad really was? How deep his hate ran? It wasn’t in the boy to be able to understand, he was still too naïve and innocent—and Brian did not want to be the one to kill that. And he wouldn’t let Craig either. Brian pressed their foreheads together. "Do what you need to do."

"Thanks," Justin murmured, kissing Brian, holding him this time and deepening their attachment.

Brian gently pushed him away, feigning ignorance. "What was that for?"

"I told you, to thank you," Justin whispered huskily, leaning in once more.

"But I thought you wanted to talk," Brian mocked, relieved the mood had lightened.

"We talked. Now I want to fool around," the boy replied coyly. "Brian, I need you. Before you have to leave and I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again. Unless you don’t want me anymore." He added a bratty pout for emphasis.

Brian arched an eyebrow. He knew that ploy. "Now you’re being a princess again."

Justin couldn’t hide the smile twitching under his still drawn face. "But you love me anyway."

Brian rolled his eyes.

"And you want to fuck me."

Couldn’t deny that, but he was still in charge. "First, we move your shit, then we fuck," Brian ordered, pulling Justin up and leading him home.

***

With the grandparents off to visit the firm, Brian was grateful he missed that tour, the men honestly told Jennifer that Justin had called Brian and wanted to give his art supplies to Lindsay to prevent them from being wasted. Brian added a good dose of sympathy for Lindsay’s injured ‘mother’ and how much she depended on the sanctuary of her studio during troubled times so Jennifer didn’t have time to process the obvious. Brian figured she would eventually realize Justin would use them at Lindsay’s when he was babysitting, but strangely, he got the feeling she really felt bad about what Craig was doing and wouldn’t tell him.

Who knew she would actually put her son’s best interests first for once—or maybe not. He still didn’t trust her.

Once they unloaded Justin’s stuff and stored it in Lindsay’s studio, Brian and Justin went to the pool house. Brian sent the boy to the shower while he called the trick with the photographs.

"Tony, Brian Kinney…yeah, listen, cancel the messenger for Taylor tomorrow and send the package here... no I wasn’t going to sell…Tony, shut the fuck up. I’m not selling them to you or anyone else, send the prints AND the negatives… ALL of them…Don’t fuck with me or I’ll make sure you never get a legit job again… Uh-huh, whatever… I don’t fucking hire tricks at the office… Not my office… I’ll get you an interview at Ryder, alright? But that’s IT… He’s a good guy and your work speaks for itself… Not that work, asshole…just do it…I don’t want to hear it…no, no, I’m hanging up now…Keep dreaming, I’ve had you… No, Tony, you don’t want me to fuck you again, you wouldn’t like it, understood? …I’ll make the call after I get the package."

Brian dropped the phone on the bed and went to help Justin reach all those hard to reach places. After all, they only had an hour before he had to take the boy back for lunch with his grandparents and head to the airport. At this rate, they’d only get two or three fucks in as it was.

***

It had been a long weekend, but Brian got the account, as if there was any doubt. The cab dropped him off in front of the pool house and he wearily pulled his bags inside. He couldn’t believe that regardless of how tired he was, he would swear he could smell Justin’s aftershave and his cock stirred.

Of course, it did. He may be tired, but he wasn’t dead. And despite finding plenty of men to blow him in the Windy City, he never stopped thinking about the blond twink. Which was obviously why he thought he could still smell him in the room. He sniffed the air, expecting to find his mind had just been playing tricks, but the scent was still there.

Brian shrugged it off and reached for the lamp. Actually, it made sense, the kid had been there before he left and the place had been close up since so the smell still lingered.

"Daddy!" Gus called from the doorway of the other house.

"Hey, Sonny Boy! Did you miss me?"

"Yes!" The boy cried, starting out across the pavement.

"Stay there," Brian ordered. He knew Gus didn’t have any shoes on and Lindsay would have his balls if Gus crossed even that short distance in the cold with bare feet. "Let me put my bags down and I’ll be right over."

Brian’s hand finally connected with the lamp switch and he flicked it on as he dumped his bags next to the closet and yanked off his tie. He didn’t even look at the bed. As badly as he wanted to nap, he knew Gus wouldn’t wait, so he’d go visit him, then shower and nap, then maybe see if Justin wanted to sneak out and come spend the night. He wanted to see him. So much so that he could probably hold off long enough to listen to a narrative of the birthday party he’d missed before fucking the kid’s brains out.

Yeah, he’d been thinking about their little talk before he left. He could make more of an effort. It appeared he had to if he wanted to stay one step ahead of the conniving little shit. Jesus, being an insensitive prick had been much easier. Now he had to REALLY think about the boy’s feelings. He snorted to himself as he turned and set his watch on the nightstand and finally saw Justin—naked and sprawled across the mattress.

"Miss me?" Justin grinned.

Brian eyes darkened, his gaze roaming over the boy. "You shouldn’t have snuck into my home without permission, sweet cheeks," he growled playfully, unable to hide his obvious pleasure at this turn of events. But he was still in control. "You’re going to have to be punished for that."

Justin’s eyes twinkled. "I know…but I brought your mail in," he nodded to the package of photos. "Don’t I get some sort of leniency for that?"

Jesus, Brian had forgotten about them. If the kid only knew… but he didn’t, so Brian brushed it aside. It was done and over with.

"Well, then you’ll get an extra special reward," Brian amended, slowly removing the rest of his suit, "after your punishment."

He reached out to caress the smooth skin glowing under the dim lamp when his attention was diverted again.

"Daddy!" Gus yelled from the other house.

Shit. "Don’t go anywhere. I need to tuck him in, then you’re next," he told Justin.

"Okay, daddy."

Brian scowled and Justin laughed. "Gonna spank me again?" the boy asked.

"So hard you won’t sit down for a week."

Justin’s eyes lit up, until he heard Lindsay calling out to Brian as well. "Hurry, before mommy comes and ruins all the fun," he teased.

Brian snarled and gave him a warm-up swat before slipping on a pair of sweats and rushing out to intercept his friend. The last thing they needed was the woman finding Justin in his bed. He wasn’t about to let anyone, not even Lindsay, jeopardize his plan—what was left of it.

What WAS left of it?

Fuck.

***

Brian carefully slipped from the bed so he wouldn’t wake Justin. He’d only gone to sleep an hour ago, and in a few more Brian would have to sneak him back home before his parents woke up.

Brian carried the packet of pictures to the counter and poured a glass of Beam, biting back a cough as he downed it in a harsh gulp. He poured another glass and stared at the bed, soaking up the nude form sprawled across the sheets. The moonlight was filtering through the small window above the bed. Brian usually pulled the blinds, but in the heat of the moment earlier that night, he’d forgotten, and now he liked that the soft light illuminated Justin’s pale skin.

Christ, he was beautiful.

And naïve and trusting.

Brian sure as hell didn’t deserve that trust… but…he wanted to.

He turned on the light over the sink and ripped open the envelope. He pulled out the photographs and negatives, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Justin hadn’t stirred from the disturbance. Sure he could check undetected, Brian quickly went through the pile to make sure they were all there. However, his perfunctory examination was hindered by his dick. He flipped through the photos again more slowly, his cock growing harder with each image.

Jesus, why the fuck was he torturing himself with pictures when he had the real thing in his bed?

Just then, a pair of arms slipped around his waist. Brian dropped the pictures, turning them over on the counter. He twisted around and returned the embrace. "What are you doing up?"

Justin snuggled against his chest and sighed, then looked up, sniffing. "Why are you drinking?"

"I’m over 21," Brian huffed. "I just couldn’t sleep."

Justin wiggled against Brian’s hard-on, obviously assuming that was the reason. "Why didn’t you wake me up, I can help you with that." Before Brian could respond, Justin dropped to his knees and engulfed the older man’s hard cock.

"Fuck…" Brian’s eyes rolled back as the teen’s lips sealed around the shaft and slid back up. Justin sucked at the tip, his tongue teasing along the slit. Brian had always been impressed the boy had become quite a talented little cocksucker. But the days of having to be satisfied with blowjobs, no matter how masterful, were gone and he had two years worth of longing for that ass to make up for. "Come here, sweet cheeks," he growled as he pulled Justin off his dick and bent him over the counter.

Justin was willing, but Brian handled him a little roughly to play with him, and to divert his attention. Brian pressed Justin’s cheek to the cool countertop, holding him in place with a forearm across his neck. The boy grunted and squirmed, and Brian thought maybe he was pressing too hard until Justin rasped, "Fuck me."

Brian reached over and opened the drawer next to the sink. He pulled out the lube and a condom from the drawer. "You want it? Want my dick in your tight little ass?" He slid the photos into the drawer and shut it.

"Yes," Justin mewled as Brian nudged his legs further apart. "Do it," he groaned when Brian’s sheathed cock slid between his cheeks.

Brian moved his arm from Justin’s neck and folded himself over the smaller frame, covering Justin’s hands with his own as the boy held onto the edge of the counter. "I love…fucking you…" Brian gasped as he pushed inside.

Justin twisted his head to see Brian over his shoulder. "I love…you too."

Brian grabbed Justin’s hips and plunged deeper, making the boy cry out as he was fully impaled. Brian took a handful of blond hair and yanked Justin’s head back further so their lips could meet.

Justin’s arm twisted back and pulled Brian’s head down, craning his neck painfully but the older man didn’t care. He let go of Justin’s hair and returned his hand to the slight waist, continuing to pound into the boy’s hole.

"Come for me," Brian ground out against Justin’s smacking lips. He captured the boy’s darting tongue and sucked on it as he reached around for Justin’s cock.

"Oh…oh…"

Brian threw his head back and grunted in response as Justin’s convulsing hole milked his own orgasm from him.

Once the waves passed, they slumped against the counter, spent and trembling. Brian pulled out and discarded the condom before pulling Justin back to bed. He pushed Justin onto his back and gave his slick belly a thorough tongue bath before flopping on his back and drifting off again. He didn't even move when Justin snuggled against his side.

***

After dropping Justin off so he could sneak back into his room before mommy came to wake him for school, Brian hurried home to shower for work. He was meeting Cynthia at the office before everyone else came in so he could fill her in on his plans to take the job with Stern and Meyer. The move included her, if she was interested. Which he was pretty sure she would be. Then he needed her to finish up the paperwork required to migrate his clients with him—before Craig found out he’d been lying.

Two hours later, while his ecstatic and agreeable assistant was busy making arrangements for the switch, she hated Craig Taylor’s constant ogling and calling her Cindy, Brian was stepping into his first creative meeting of the day. Despite his haste, he did remember to run the photos he’d stuffed in his briefcase through the shredder, but he didn’t notice the soft, constant chirp of the cell phone—the one only Justin used— coming from his discarded briefcase as he hurried down the hall.

As he stepped into the conference room, he was surprised to see Craig and a junior account exec greeting HIS client. What the fuck?!

"Ah, here’s Brian now," Craig said, rather coolly. He fixed Brian with blatantly hostile glare that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "I was just telling Mr. Kramer that you had a family emergency and Derrick here will handle the pitch this morning. Go ahead and hand over your material and they can get started… and you can be on your way home. To your poor wife," he hissed in Brian’s ear so only he heard the last part.

Brian had a sinking feeling Craig knew.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He numbly handed over his portfolio to Derrick and made his apologizes to Kramer and his team. As he and Craig left the conference room, his boss poked him in the back, pushing him down the hall.

"My office--Now."

Brian picked up his step so he couldn’t push him again and led the way. His mind was racing during the short walk, but he forced himself to calm down and wait until he found out what Craig knew. No point in panicking and giving away more than he had to. This could be a false alarm.

When he stepped into Craig’s office he turned to face his boss, only flinching slightly as the door slammed behind them. And then Craig punched him. "You fucking pervert!"

Brian stumbled from the force of the blow, but somehow managed to keep his balance.

No, not a false alarm.

Brian wiped at his bleeding lip with the back of his hand. At least now, he knew where he stood.

"What’s the matter, Craig?" he sneered, finally able to let the amiable façade fall. "Wasn’t it you who called him a sissy faggot? You can’t really be that surprised now."

Craig lunged at him again with an angry bellow, but Brian was prepared this time and blocked the punch as he landed one of his own. Craig reeled back against the wall, holding his jaw. "I’ll have you arrested for assault and child molesting!"

"You assaulted me first, I was just defending myself," Brian countered. "And the legal age of consent in Pennsylvania is sixteen, dad. I didn’t touch him before that and I can’t be arrested now just because YOU don’t approve of him sucking my dick."

Craig visibly blanched.

"So how’d you finally catch on?" Brian asked. "I must admit I was a little disappointed you were so easy to fool."

"I trusted you!" Craig shouted angrily. "I didn’t know you were a fucking faggot corrupting my son behind my back. How many times did he sneak out to let--to--to fuck?"

"Ah, so you caught Justin sneaking back in this morning. I told him we didn’t have time to fuck again, but he insisted. He’s very demanding when he wants something, isn’t he?"

"You’re disgusting," Craig growled. "I don’t know how you seduced him, but it’s over. You’re fired, Kinney, and I guarantee you’ll never work in this town again."

"You can’t fire me for this Craig, I haven’t done anything wrong. Besides, I quit. I signed with Stern before I left Friday. He already knows I’m gay and that I have an… unorthodox relationship so nothing you say now will matter."

"Is that what you call your sham of a marriage?" Craig balked.

Brian arched an eyebrow. "What marriage? I’m not married."

Craig flushed even redder. "Lindsay. Your wife. Gus. Your son. The pictures on your desk. That ring on your finger!"

Brian chuckled. "I never said I was married. You just assumed. Then I didn’t want to burst your idyllic little bubble so I played along." He tugged the ring off his finger and dropped it on the desk. "You can keep it as a souvenir."

Craig tossed it back to him. "I already have one." He pulled a ring out of his pocket and held it up for Brian to see. Justin's ring. "Like I said, whatever hold you had on him is over." Craig crowed at Brian’s obvious shock. "He sees you for the pervert you are now. He knows what he did was wrong."

For the first time since the confrontation began, Brian felt dread twist in his gut. "There’s nothing wrong with him, he’s just the way he’s supposed to be. And no amount of manipulation or threats on your part is going to change that. Ever," he snarled.

Justin loved him. He swore he would stay with him. Craig was full of shit… or was he? What the fuck happened this morning?

Craig rolled the ring between his fingers. "Did you really think he’d choose you over his family? Forever’s just not as long as it used to be, is it?" he sneered. He put the ring back in his pocket and picked up the phone. "Send security to my office," he barked into the receiver.

Brian gaped at him. Twelve years of planning his revenge and…and he’d failed.

After a moment, the office door flew open, but Justin rushed in instead of security. "Brian!"

He ran to the older man, but Craig cut him off. Brian watched in shock as father and son wrestled until Jennifer stepped into the room.

"Stop it!" she shouted. "Craig, let him go or I’ll have you arrested for hitting your son!"

Jarred from his surprised reaction, Brian now clearly saw the bruise on Justin’s cheek. Suddenly enraged, Brian grabbed Craig, punching him again. "You son of a bitch!"

Jennifer and Justin tried to break them up, but it took security to yank the men apart.

"Escort this trash off the premise," Craig shouted.

"No," Jennifer cut in, blocking the doorway as Brian struggled out of the men’s grip. "They can wait outside until I’ve finished what I came to say."

"Jen--"

"Do you want your employees to hear this, Craig?"

Brian knew that translated into ‘You don’t want them to know you have a faggot son, do you, honey?"

Craig grudgingly nodded for them to leave and Jennifer shut the door. "What are you doing here? Why isn’t he in school?" he ground out.

"He wouldn’t go until he saw Brian."

Brian’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe…

Craig glared at the boy. "Justin, I thought I made it perfectly clear--"

"You did, dad. Crystal. If I ever see Brian again I’m never to set foot in your house again."

"And you said you wouldn’t!"

Justin shook his head. "You misunderstood. I meant I wouldn’t go home again."

Brian arched an eyebrow. Fuck.

"But you gave me your ring and said you didn’t want it anymore!"

"I said I didn’t NEED it. Despite what you think, I know Brian loves me." Justin cut his father with an icy gaze. "You didn’t even listen to anything I said this morning. You just heard what you wanted to."

But Craig was obviously tuning him out again. "I’ve had enough of this nonsense. I want this bastard off the premise and away from us right now." He reached for the door handle, but Jennifer stopped him.

"I haven’t had my say yet." She turned to Brian. "Justin’s bags are in the trunk of my car. If you’ll come down with us we can put them in yours."

Brian barely blinked before Justin dove into his outstretched arms. He hadn’t even realized he’d held them open.

"What?!" Craig bellowed. "You’re letting this monster take our son?"

Jennifer’s frigid expression didn’t waver. "I’ve never seen this man hit my son. Justin wants to be with him right now and I don’t blame him. And I WILL NOT lose another child because of you."

Justin’s head flew up from Brian’s shoulder. "Mom?"

But Jennifer’s attention was still locked on Craig, an obvious battle of wills playing out in the thick silent air between them.

Brian was just as surprised at that interesting little tidbit of information, but he couldn’t concentrate on it now. He wanted to get Justin away from them both. Jennifer may have come through for Justin for the time being, but he knew what kind of power Craig had over her. He would never trust her.

He kissed Justin’s temple and nudged him toward the door. "Let’s go get your bags."

Craig glowered at them as he jerked the door open. "Fine. Get out, Kinney, and take him with you. But remember this—you’re through. I’ll blacklist you with every agency and account in town. No one will work with a pedophile."

Brian laughed in his face. "You wouldn’t dare. If you did, you’d also have to tell everyone your son’s a fag." He saw Craig recoil and spat at him, "You’re pathetic."

"Fuck you, Kinney."

Brian just walked out the door, then stopped, and turned back. "Actually, it's Grassi. My name is Brian Grassi."

Then Jennifer fainted.

***

It was a stalemate in the office while Jennifer was revived. Brian hadn’t expected such a dramatic response. Now he understood where Justin got his theatrical side. She slowly came around as Craig and Justin flanked her, and Brian stood off to the side watching carefully.

“Mom? What happened?” Justin asked, holding her hand as she settled onto the sofa and they both looked at Brian.

Craig too turned his attention back to other man and snarled again. “I don’t care what your name is, just get out of our lives!”

Brian never took his eyes from the Justin. “Justin, you coming?”

“No,” Craig bellowed, “he’s not!”

Brian’s face was expressionless, although he was gratified to see Craig obviously disturbed by his announcement. So much so, he now wanted to keep the gay son he’d just disowned.

Justin looked at his mother. “Mom?”

Jennifer hugged him. “Go on,” she said weakly. “I’m alright.”

Brian rolled his eyes. She was a constant martyr.

Justin shook his head, looking back at Brian. “No, not until I find out what’s going on. Brian, why did you say your name is Grass—Grazzi--”

“Grassi. Because it is.”

“Why did you lie?” the boy asked.

Brian glanced at Jennifer and Craig. This was why he was here, to destroy them in the eyes of their son and take him from them-- and now he couldn’t do it. As much as he wanted to crush them, make them feel the pain he’d endured for the past twelve years, he couldn’t look at Justin’s open and trusting face and deliberately hurt him.

But how was he going to get out of it? And still keep Justin's love?

“Brian?” Justin persisted.

“I didn’t want your parents to remember me,” he admitted slowly, his mind working out a half-truth to get him through the moment. “My birth name Kinney. I changed my name to Grassi when I turned eighteen.”

Justin looked at his mother and father, obviously wondering if they knew what he was talking about.

“Justin, it doesn’t matter, he’s a liar and that’s all you need to know. Can’t you see how it’s upsetting your mother?” Craig rasped harshly.

“She’s had twelve years to get over it,” Brian barked, his anger returning. “If she can’t live with her own lies now, that’s her own problem. But at least she’s showing some sign of remorse, you don’t even feel that, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” Justin cried, jumping up from the sofa and standing away from them all. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“Justin, calm down, or you’ll have an attack,” Brian ordered softly.

Justin blinked at him, but ceased fidgeting and took a deep breath, then waited silently for Brian to continue.

“You have no right--” Craig sputtered, obviously envious of the way his son responded to Brian’s command.

Justin jumped at his tone and Brian instinctively opened his arms, seizing an opportunity to tear a wider rift between father and son. He didn’t feel bad for that, it was Craig’s own doing. And it just might be the only advantage Brian had at the end of this. His calculation paid off when Justin gravitated toward the safe haven he offered. Brian wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Then he tugged a little at the collar of Justin’s sweater and lightly ran his fingertips over the scar there. “Do you remember when that happened?”

Justin stiffened, his eyes widening as he looked at the older man. “Sort of, we had a car accident…but I was only five.”

Justin frowned, trying to recall the old memories. Brian didn’t have a problem conjuring them up. Vic’s leg was broken and pinned inside the car. Michael lost it, but Vic managed to calm him down and directed Brian to help the people in the other car. It was late, there were no other cars on the deserted street, no one else to help, and the storm was getting worse. They could hear a child crying, but no one else was moving. When Brian looked inside the other car, Jennifer was barely conscious and Craig was in shock. He pulled Justin out of the car, cutting himself on the broken window because the door wouldn’t open.

“I just remember a lot of people… and being scared…trying to find my mom and dad,” Justin said.

“Oh my god,” Jennifer’s eyes were filled with tears, “you pulled Justin out of the car. For days he said the angel came and--”

Justin gaped at her, then Brian. “The scar on your arm,” he gasped. “I remember that, but I couldn’t see your face—you saved me!”

“He caused the accident!” Craig bellowed. “Their car hit us. You wouldn’t have been hurt if it wasn’t for him!”

Jennifer blanched. “It wasn’t Brian’s fault.”

How generous of her. Brian glared at her, barely controlling his rage. “Justin, go put your bags in my car.”

“But I don’t understand—so you lied about your name because you thought my mom and dad would remember you, and blame you for the accident?” Justin asked.

It took all of Brian’s control not to say anything to correct him. His nod was barely perceptible.

“Oh, Brian,” Justin hugged him, peppering kisses on his face. “It was an accident. I would never blame you.”

Brian was torn between laughing at the boy’s naïve display and crying at the sweet sincerity of his words. But then he saw Craig’s face flushing red again and knew there would be no avoiding another outburst. Jennifer obviously also noticed more brewing and handed Justin her keys. “Just leave them with the guard,” she said.

Justin took them hesitantly. “Bri--”

Brian disentangled himself from the boy’s grasp. “Go on. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

Justin gave his mother another hug and left.

“Justin--” Craig called after him.

“Yeah, I know, dad,” Justin didn’t bother turning around. “I won’t come back.”

Brian watched coolly as Craig glared after him. At least the fucker didn’t have any more to say. But Brian was far from done. He smiled broadly. “I don’t know about you, but I just feel like this huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”

“Don’t think this is over, Kinney,” Craig sneered.

“Grassi,” Brian corrected snidely, but Craig ignored him.

“He’s confused and he doesn’t know what he’s doing. But with help he’ll understand--”

“Help?” Brian laughed harshly. “What? A shrink? Brainwashing? You want to subject him to a bunch of quacks and psychoanalysis because he doesn’t think like you do?” His smile disappeared. “If you come anywhere near him,” his eyes grazed over Jennifer’s stricken face, “I swear Justin will never speak to either of you again when I tell him the truth about that accident. That you lied to the police. That your wife covered for you. That you ruined two people’s lives and now they’re both dead—because of you.”

Jennifer was ashen. “Brian, please--”

“Shut up,” Craig barked at her.

“No, I’ve let you—oh, god,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know…” She tried to compose herself and glanced at Brian briefly, unable to hold his angry gaze.

“Jen,” Craig warned ominously. “Don’t do this.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry about your friends. I know Mr. Grassi got sick in the hospital… and the other boy… he shot himself. I always wondered if it was connected.”

“Bullshit. That fag died because he had AIDS!” Craig shouted.

Brian shook as he took a step closer to the other man. “He died,” Brian said flatly, “because he caught pneumonia from being exposed to the cold and rain waiting for an ambulance. He recovered from his injuries, but the damage was done. After that, it was just one complication after another until he just gave up and died. By then, Michael was so overwhelmed with guilt because he’d been driving the car. Because he thought if he’d done anything differently, Vic wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Then when Vic died, Michael couldn’t take it anymore and killed himself.”

“You can’t blame that on us,” Craig shot back. “My wife lost our baby that night so don’t tell me--”

Brian couldn’t believe it. Jennifer miscarried after the accident? And she still lied for him? Well, fuck her. Fuck ‘em both. He didn’t give a shit about their pain. They brought it on themselves. “Are you proud of that Craig? Does it make you feel like a man that you can sleep at night and not want to blow your brains out from the guilt? Michael was a teenager. No older than Justin is now and you killed him just as sure as you pulled the trigger yourself. I want you to think about that. For once, think about someone beside yourself, think about Justin, and imagine what would’ve happened if he’d been in Michael’s place.”

Craig seemed to be speechless for a moment. Then he mumbled, “It was an accident. The police said it was no one’s fault. It was just the rain. He shouldn’t have--”

But he did. He blamed himself because you lied. But so what. So, you don’t care about a kid who blew his brains out. You killed your unborn baby! You could’ve killed Justin. How the fuck do you live with yourself?” He heard Jennifer sob again and glared at her. “Or you. How could you let him do that to your children? How could you cover for this pathetic drunk asshole?” She paled and gaped at him. “Jesus, don’t look so surprised. I saw him in the driver’s seat when I pulled Justin out of the car. At first I thought he was hurt, but then I realized he was just plastered.”

Criag had finally come around, Justin’s cries for his parents rousing him. Craig stumbled from the car and tried to take his son from Brian, but Brian instinctively kept him, fearing the boy would be injured further if the drunk man got a hold of him. Craig could barely hold himself up. And that was when Brian’s life changed forever.

When the scene was cleared and the police were writing up their report, Brian realized by protecting Justin, he’d allowed Craig to protect himself. Unencumbered by the responsibility of watching the child, under the guise of concern for his wife, Craig had managed to pull himself together enough to cover his ass. When the police and ambulance arrived, Jennifer, unconscious by then, was in the driver’s seat.

“But no one believed me because I was just some scared little faggot trying to cover for his friend. The cops checked us for booze and drugs, they were sure we were hiding something. But they never fucking touched him,” Brian sneered.

“Brian,” Jennifer pleaded, “it’s not--”

Brian waved her off, exhausted by the emotional purging. He suddenly needed to get away from them. He went to the door, but before leaving he said, “I lost the most important person in my life the day Vic died. But now I have Justin. I think we’re finally even.”

“You son of a bitch, is this some twisted game of revenge?” Craig spat. “My son isn’t some--”

“Just catching on, Craig?” Brian drawled. “He’s not your son anymore. The game’s over. I win.”

“I’ll kill you!” Craig roared as Brian pulled the door open and beckoned to the security officer still waiting to escort him out of the building.

The guard saw the couple struggling as Jennifer tried to subdue her enraged husband. “He’s threatening his wife! Do something!” Brian ordered. The guard rushed in to break them up and Brian slipped out of the office.

He stepped off the elevator as Justin was returning his mother’s keys to the guard in the parking garage. The boy rushed to him. “Brian, he still has my ring--”

The older man took his arm, steering Justin back toward the car. Brian didn’t want to risk another confrontation just to get the cheap thing back. “Forget about it, sweet cheeks, I’ll get you a new one.”

“But--”

Brian stopped, pulling Justin into his arms and kissing him hard. Once he was sure Justin had forgotten his own name, let alone any memory of the damn ring, he released him. “Come on, let’s go home.”

***

Brian was glad Lindsay was on a field trip with Gus’ class for the day. It would give him time to figure out how he was going to explain Justin moving in with him.

The two men spent the rest of the morning making space for Justin’s things. Then they fucked most of the afternoon away. Finally, Justin was asleep and Brian had a few moments to himself. He knew the boy was still full of questions, Justin had been obviously itching to ask about any number of things since they’d left his dad’s office, but he was easily distracted by the new living arrangements. However, Brian knew that wouldn’t last for long.

He rolled away from Justin's warm body, sitting on the edge of the bed as he fumbled in his pants for a cigarette. Once it was lit, he leaned back against the headboard and Justin half-consciously wormed over against his side again before settling back to sleep.

Brian took a deep drag and let the smoke rings circle around his head as he tried to pull his thoughts together. He had to figure out what to tell Justin, Lindsay… and eventually Deb.

“Mmm…” Justin snuggled closer, kissing his thigh.

Shit. Brian wanted him to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through the blond hair. Which definitely got Justin’s attention. His blue eyes blinked sleepily, then focused and gazed up at him. “Hey,” the boy whispered groggily.

“Hey, yourself.” Brian couldn’t help smiling at him.

Justin wiggled onto Brian’s lap, wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck and pressing his warm body flush against Brian again. Brian’s dick twitched as the boy’s sweet plump cheeks rubbed against it. He put the cigarette out so he could use both hands to knead the globes.

“Brian…” the boy moaned.

The older man let his fingers stroke along the crease, lightly teasing over the puckered opening.

“Brian,” Justin said more firmly, although obviously aroused. He pushed back a bit and sat down on Brian’s thighs, his ass now out of reach.

“Justin,” Brian growled back.

“Tell me why you changed your name.”

Brian glared at him, angry at being caught unprepared. Angry he had to deal with any more emotions for the day. He pushed Justin away, about to tell him it was none of his business, but when he opened his mouth he said, “Vic Grassi took me in when my parents kicked me out.”

Justin frowned, confused. “Like you and me now?”

Brian grimaced. “No. Vic lived with his sister and her son. My best friend. They were my family.”

“Oh.” Justin bit his lip for a moment, looking at the bedspread. Then he asked, “Will they be my family now too?”

Brian looked at the hopeful face, suddenly realizing the full impact of what he’d done to the boy. He’d been so focused on his revenge and, he could finally admit, his own selfish desire to keep Justin with him, that he hadn’t ever considered the full ramifications of how Justin would truly be affected. Brian had managed to pry the boy away from his parents, but now there wasn’t anyone else to take care of him.

Just Brian.

***

Brian slowly pulled out of the driveway, ignoring the urge to turn back and fuck the kid again. Justin couldn’t handle the myriad of emotions he was feeling though. He needed a trick who didn’t mind a really rough fuck. He needed to pour all the anger into another willing receptacle before he did rough the kid up.

Fuck, he wanted to though—which only made his anger increase exponentially as he berated himself for wanting Justin so much, to use the lithe pale body to exorcise the demons until the boy was screaming for mercy.

Brian wanted to see if the kid would take it. Would he stay? Would he still hold and comfort Brian like he had earlier? Or would he run when he realized what really lurked in the deepest darkest corners of Brian’s mind?

He clutched the steering wheel defensively. Brian was an asshole, but he wouldn’t deliberately drive the kid away and he was sure that would do it. Brian was all he had now so he would do what he had to protect the boy, even from himself.

Pulling up to the baths, Brian started prowling for his evening’s entertainment. This would keep him from taking it out on the innocent kid. Brian remembered how vulnerable he looked, spread out in the big bed and the thought of Justin back at the house asleep in HIS bed, warm and pliant, made him unbearably hard.

And it annoyed him even more. He didn’t want to think about Justin now.

He didn’t want to see the boy’s tears when he told him Vic and Michael were dead. At first, Brian wasn’t sure if the waterworks were for himself or for Brian, although given the boy’s tender consoling kisses across his face and neck, Brian knew Justin was crying for him. Amazingly, despite everything he’d just been through, Justin had just lost his own family and was desperately trying to find something to hang on to, he was only thinking of Brian’s feelings.

Fuck, if he really knew the whole story…

***

Several hours later, the demons at bay for the time being, Brian let himself into the pool house and was surprised to see Justin sitting up, the sheets pooled tantalizingly around his bare hips as he sketched. “Why aren’t you in bed?” Brian asked.

Justin didn’t look up from the pad. “I am,” he replied tersely.

The sharp tone got Brian’s attention. “Asleep,” he clarified.

Justin’s eyes raked over him briefly before flitting back. “A little whiskey isn’t going to make me pass out for the night like some pussy. I’ve been drinking my dad’s since I was fourteen.”

Brian rolled his eyes at the child-like defiance. He hadn’t expected the kid to pass out, he’d just given him a little glass to help him relax and go to sleep. Obviously he should’ve tried pot instead. That was a good idea actually. He walked over to the nightstand and pulled out his box.

“How could you?” Justin huffed, slapping the pad against the mattress and crossing his arms over his chest.

Brian raised an eyebrow. They obviously weren’t talking about a little self-medication anymore. “What?” He noticed Justin’s eyes welling up again and sighed. He sat down next to the boy and wrapped his arm around Justin’s shoulders. “Come here.”

But Justin resisted, swatting his arm away and scooting to the other end of the bed. “Don’t touch me.”

“Justin--”

“You reek. I can smell him on you.”

Brian’s temper flared. “What the fuck? Don’t sit there like some wronged housewife. You know--”

“I know,” Justin hissed. “But I thought it was going to be different now.”

Brian stared at him. “Why?” he asked coldly. He should’ve fucking known...

“We’re living together!” Justin cried indignantly.

Brian rubbed his temple to stop the headache coming on. It looked like Justin would be running sooner than he thought. “So?”

Justin gaped at him, then his lower lip started to tremble and he quickly looked away.

Brian stood and stripped off his clothes. “I’m taking a shower. Just--”

Justin stood as well. “It won’t make any difference. I’m not sleeping with you.” He took his pillow and tossed it on the sofa.

Brian shrugged. He wasn’t doing it for Justin’s sake, he just didn’t feel like going to bed all sticky tonight. “Fine.” He went to the closet and pulled out a blanket and handed it to the boy. “Sweet dreams.”

He walked to the bathroom and heard a soft gasp behind him. Clearly, Justin had expected him to grovel and promise love and fidelity for eternity. Brian snorted. When hell freezes over.

***

When he came out of the bathroom, Justin was back in his bed. Brian ignored him and lay down.

Justin slid closer. “Brian?”

The older man rolled away. “Go to sleep.”

Justin’s fingertips brushed his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Craning his neck, Brian sneered, “You want to hear about it now? The guy gave great head, and--”

Justin closed his eyes and softly asked, “Were you mad at me?”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Brian exploded. “I just wanted to fuck.”

“You could’ve fucked me.”

“I did,” Brian reminded him. “And I wanted mo--”

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Brian’s breath caught. “I--”

Justin crawled over him and sat so they were facing each other. Brian noticed he was nervously twisting the sheets in his fist. “If you needed something… I would do it.”

Shocked, Brian blurted, “What the fuck are you talking about?” The harshness of his words was softened by his hand over Justin’s.

Justin looked him in the eye, struggling to hold his gaze. “Your back… it’s scratched,” he took a deep breath, “and bruised. It must’ve been real… really rough. If you want me to--”

“No!” Brian barked suddenly and Justin flinched.

Quickly recovering, Justin’s jaw clenched resolutely. “I can take it.”

The guilt twisted in Brian’s gut. He didn’t want Justin to become another trick that let Brian use and break him to try and keep him around to fuck him again. “You don’t have to.”

“But I want--”

“I don’t want you to,” Brian snapped. He pulled Justin down and kissed him hard. “I want to come home to you,” another kiss, more softly, “just like this.” He slowly licked across Justin’s bottom lip. The boy tasted like mint and Brian swiped his tongue back across.

“But--”

Brian pulled back, cupping Justin’s cheek. “It’s just fucking, sweet cheeks. He looked away as he muttered, "You’re... more important than that." His gaze flitted back. "Understand?”

Justin nodded, turning his head to kiss Brian's palm.

***

The door sliding open woke Brian up. He blinked tiredly and shifted, feeling Justin burrowed into his side. He hadn’t gone anywhere. Must’ve been dreaming…

“Daddy!”

“Gus,” Lindsay admonished softly.

Brian pried his eyes open again and saw his son crawling onto the bed.

Lindsay appeared, pulling him back. “Sorry,” she whispered. “He snuck out.”

Justin stirred, drawing Lindsay’s attention as he stretched. “Hi, Lindsay,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. The timbre combined with the pink hue creeping over his cheeks made Brian’s cock twitch.

“Justin!” Lindsay cried in surprise.

Cold reality doused any lewd intentions Brian might’ve had though as Lindsay pinched his arm and hissed, “What have you done?!”

***

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Justin cried. “My dad threw me out and now I live here.”

“Oh, my god, Brian! How could you?” Lindsay asked as her face paled.

“He didn’t do anything!” Justin repeated more angrily.

“Justin, honey I know you’re upset, but--”

“Linds,” Brian pried his arm free from her grasp, “take Gus back to the house and I’ll be there in a minute.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Brian nodded to their son with his wide eyes taking everything in and she quickly scooped him up and took him out.

As soon as they were gone, Justin plastered himself to Brian’s side. “She’s not going to make me leave, is she?” he asked nervously. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Brian struggled to control his temper. This was not how he wanted to spend his morning. This was not how he wanted Lindsay to find out. He looked at Justin and his anger increased. Brian hated being clung to, and he hated himself even more because he knew why Justin was clinging to him. It was his fault. He twisted out of Justin’s grip and pulled on a pair of jeans.

“You want me to leave,” Justin said softly from behind him.

Brian turned in time to see Justin sliding off his side of the bed—his side. Christ. Justin pulled on a pair of sweats. He stood still for a moment, contemplating, then knelt down and reached under the bed to pull out the luggage they just put away the night before. He jerked the dresser drawer open and started stuffing his clothes into the suitcase. Fucking drama princess. “What are you doing?” Brian huffed despite himself.

“Going home,” Justin replied petulantly.

Brian raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Justin’s shoulders shook and Brian knew he was struggling not to cry. “I do if I don’t see you anymore. And you don’t want me so--”

“Stop it.”

Justin’s hand froze and his wet eyes slid to Brian.

“Just…stop--” Brian didn’t realize he was holding his arms out until Justin scrambled across the bed and dove at him.

Justin’s arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. “Brian--”

“I said stop,” Brian growled, squeezing him back. Then he quickly pushed him away so he was sitting on the bed. “I need to go talk to Linds. Put your shit back—in the drawer.”

Fuck, he’d almost said ‘where it belongs.’

***

Lindsay was making pancakes for Gus when Brian joined them. She set a cup of coffee in front of him and casually leaned against the counter, but Brian didn’t miss that she was holding the spatula like a weapon.

“Step away from the stove, Linds,” he deadpanned.

She scowled at him, but turned off the burner and sat down at the table.

Brian helped Gus pour his syrup and cut the pancakes for him. “Before you start--”

“What the hell are you doing, Brian?”

Brian glared at her over their son’s head. That was twice she started something in front of Gus so he knew she was more upset than he’d imagined. “Hey, Sonny Boy, why don’t you take your plate to the living room and watch cartoons.”

Gus craned his neck to look at him surprise, then glanced hopefully at his mom. He was rarely allowed to eat in the living room. Lindsay gave him a weak smile and nodded. Whooping with excitement, the little boy hopped from his chair, but one discouraging look from Brian and he settled down quickly. Brian handed him the plate and sent him into the other room with a pat on the head.

“I couldn’t leave Justin with that asshole,” Brian said finally.

Lindsay studied him for a moment and then sighed. “Tell me what happened.”

“His dad found out he’s gay and--”

Linday’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

Brian stared back at her. “He saw us together.”

“Brian! He’s just a boy, how could you--”

“He’s seventeen,” Brian spat back at her. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions.”

“But you manipulated him to get back at his parents. He didn’t have a chance to make his own decision and you know it!”

“Like I did?” Brian snapped.

Lindsay’s eyes widened. “Yes, you did! You always had a choice Brian. You could’ve given up your ridiculous vendetta and--”

“Fuck you!” Brian roared, standing so quickly his chair toppled behind him. “I’m not giving up destroying Craig Taylor and I’m not giving up Justin!”

Lindsay gaped at him. “My god, you’re in love with him.”

Brian glowered at her. “The fuck I am. I—he--“

Lindsay waved her hand at him. “Give it up, Brian. If all you wanted was to destroy his father, you wouldn’t have cared what happened to him.”

“He’s gay. I wouldn’t let his father abuse him just because--”

“No, I know. But you wouldn’t have cared enough to take him in yourself. No matter what you think of his mother, you know she would’ve left Craig Taylor to protect her son. You would’ve gotten what you wanted, but you also would’ve been rid of him. But you don’t want to be rid of him at all. This was your plan all along. You brought him here because you love him. I think that’s very--”

“Shut the fuck up,” Brian sneered. “A minute ago you were going to rip me a new asshole for being a pedophile, but now that you have some romantic notion that it’s love, it’s okay? That’s totally fucked, Linds, even for you.”

“I didn’t say it’s okay now. We still need to talk about what to do with him, but now I do understand why you did it.”

“There’s nothing to do with him,” Brian huffed. “He’s staying right where he is.”

“What are people going to think?” she cried. “You can’t have a seventeen year old boy living with you.”

“I don’t give a fuck what people think. He’s over the age of consent.”

Lindsay shook her head. “I think he should stay here in the house.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Anyone who’s going to think I’m a pedophile for living with him is only going to assume he’s living here to cover up the fact that I’m a pedophile. Might as well save him the trouble of sneaking in and out of my bed every night.”

“Brian--”

“End of discussion,” he said pointedly. “But if you really want to take your new guardianship seriously, make up some more of those pancakes. I’m sure Justin’s hungry.”

Lindsay nodded and went back to the stove. “So what happened with Craig and Jennifer? I’m assuming you got it out of your system now?” She poured the batter into the pan and glanced over her shoulder, her brow creased. “Brian, does Justin know? I mean about his parents and what happened that night?”

Brian paused at the door. “No, and it’s going to stay that way.” Then he left to bring Justin over for breakfast.

***

The next few days passed with relative ease. Brian started his new job and Justin went to school. If Brian went out, Justin went to the house and spent the evening with Lindsay and Gus. But Brian knew he was fooling himself if he thought Justin was adjusting without any problems. Things were cramped with the two of them in the pool house. And the kid obviously missed his mom.

Which was why Brian didn’t have her thrown out of his office when she turned up unannounced.

He wasn’t about to send the kid over to stay with Lindsay, he meant what he said about the fucking neighbors. And he would only admit it to himself, but he liked having Justin in his bed every night. However, depending on what Jennifer Taylor had to say, he would consider sending the kid back home where he belonged. If that’s what Justin wanted.

“Mr. Kin-Grassi,” Jennifer stood stiffly on the other side of the desk, “thank you for seeing me.”

“Call me Brian… I am living with your son, mom.” He was pleased to see her blanch but keep her mouth shut at the implication and waved her into a chair. She definitely wasn’t there to fuck with him so he would hear her out. “What can I do for you?” he asked with forced amiability.

“I wanted to explain--”

“If you’re here to blow smoke up my ass about Craig--”

“No. It’s about me. What I did.”

“I know what--”

“No, M—Brian, you don’t,” she said harshly and he stopped protesting. She clutched her purse more tightly in her lap and plowed ahead. “I didn’t intentionally cover up for my husband like you think. I didn’t remember the accident. I told the police what Craig told me.”

Brian blinked at her. Was she for fucking real? “You expect me to believe you blocked it out?”

“Yes. I mean, not on purpose. I lost my baby. I was drugged and confused and the doctors said it was normal to experience some short term memory loss. I didn’t remember anything after dinner that night. Craig told me I insisted on driving because he’d been drinking and then I started having stomach pains and lost control of the car. I believed him. I had no reason not to, until about two years ago.”

Brian glared at her. “Then what?”

"I was rear ended at a stoplight, nothing major, but it jogged my memory. I remembered everything from the accident.”

“What? So you did know! Why the fuck--”

“Ten years had passed!” she cried before composing herself again. She brushed at her hair and looked him steadily in the eye. “My baby--my daughter was buried. Craig was sober. I had Justin to think about.” She let her eyes drop when she added, “Your friends were already dead. What good would it have done?”

Brian let the cold numbness seep through his limbs. He needed to—he—

“I’d like to see Justin, please,” she asked softly.

“Why didn’t you leave him?” Brian asked abruptly. Jesus, the man had killed her child. Even ten years later he could never forgive that. He hadn’t.

“And do what?” she shot back. “I’ve been a housewife for twenty years. Craig runs my family’s business. I had nowhere to go and no way to support myself. And Craig would’ve taken Justin from me.”

Brian arched an eyebrow. “How? You’re his mother for Christ sake. No court would take him away from you--”

“He threatened to declare me unfit.”

“Justin was fifteen. How could you fuck that up?”

Jennifer hung her head and buried her face in her hands. “I was an… I…”

Brian rolled his eyes. He’d never get an answer from her like this. He walked around the desk and awkwardly patted her shoulder. When she lifted her head, he handed her a tissue and stayed behind her as she put herself back together. “Jennifer, tell me what happened,” he said as genuinely as he could muster.

“After the accident,” she sniffed, “after I remembered… I was taking…I was addicted to valium. Craig threatened to tell my family and have me put in a… hospital.”

He eyed her warily. If she was still popping pills she was hardly trustworthy. “And now?”

“I quit. I quit that day.”

Brian grabbed the arms of her chair and turned her to face him. He looked directly into her eyes and snarled, “Just like that?”

She didn’t blink. “Just like that. He’s my son.”

Brian nodded and straightened himself, smoothing his jacket as he returned to his seat. He wasn’t going to think about it anymore. It wasn’t his call. He jotted the phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to her. “This is Justin’s cell phone.” If she was surprised he had a phone of his own, she didn’t show it. “It’s up to him if he wants to talk to you. But, Jennifer, if I find out anyone else has called him, like Craig, I will change the number. And I’ll tell him why.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She stood and turned to the door.

“Jennifer.” Brian didn’t know why he stopped her. “I—care for him,” he said before he could stop himself.

She smiled sadly at him. “I know.”

***

“Justin’s on line two.”

Brian closed the folder he’d been staring at and tapped the line. “Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Brian, don’t be mad, okay? I didn’t call her, I don’t know how she got it. I--”

“What are you talking about?” Brian snapped. He hated when the kid started to ramble.

“My mom called. But I didn’t talk to her.”

“Why not?” Brian asked. Had he misunderstood the kid’s moping around?

“I don’t know how she got the number! And--”

“Justin, it’s okay,” Brian sighed. Christ, the kid was wound tighter than a pocket watch. “I gave it to her. If you’d check your messages you’d see I called to tell you she came to see me. Talk to her if you want to.”

“It’s okay?”

“She’s your mother, for fuck’s sake,” Brian huffed.

“W-what did she want?” Justin asked nervously.

“She wants to talk to you,” Brain replied, forcing himself to be patient. Jesus Christ.

“She’s not going to take me home is she? Do you want me to go?”

Brian was surprised. “You don’t want to?”

Justin was silent for a moment. “I want to talk to her. But I don’t want to live there. Not with my dad… and I… I want to be with you.”

Brian squeezed the phone tighter involuntarily. “Call her,” he replied gruffly.

“Okay,” Justin said, perking up slightly. “When will you be home?”

“I--” Brian had an urge to go to Woody’s after work and get drunk and fuck, but suddenly it gave way to something stronger. “I’ll pick you up at six and we’ll go out to eat.”

“Do you want me to tell Lindsay?” Justin asked. His new mommy had insisted they eat as many meals together as possible to make Justin feel like he still had a ‘family’.

“Tell her we’re going out,” Brian said, “but it’s just the two of us.”

Justin gasped. “Like a date?” he asked excitedly, making Brian cringe.

“Be ready at six,” Brian barked before hanging up.

***

When Brian turned into the driveway, he didn’t see the car parked across the street. He had just gotten out of his jeep and was walking toward the pool house when the car sped up the driveway behind him. Brian didn’t recognize it, but he realized its intention immediately and barely dove over the hood of the jeep as the driver tried to run him down. The driver didn’t have time to stop, looking back Brian would realize he never had any intention of stopping, and crashed into the pool house.

Brian watched in horror as the small building’s structure collapsed in on itself.

Where was Justin?

“Justin!” Brian screamed, searching for a way inside.

Lindsay ran outside. “My god, Brian! What happened?” She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him from the wreckage, but he shook her off.

”Where’s Justin?” he yelled at her, looking over her shoulder to see him in the house and not… not...

Lindsay gasped and started shaking. “He just—he’s--” she sank to her knees sobbing and Brian let her go.

He pulled out his cell phone and called 911 as he tried to dig his way in. Once the ambulance was on the way, he hung up and decided to try and crawl through the car if it wasn’t completely crushed.

He opened the back door and climbed over the seat, finding himself face to face with the unconscious driver. Craig Taylor. Brian probably would’ve beaten what was left of the man’s face to a pulp against the steering wheel if he wasn’t desperate to find Justin.

The windshield was already cracked so he kicked it out and scrambled over the debris on the hood.

“Justin?” he called, coughing from the dust swirling around him. “Justin, answer me!”

He didn’t get an answer, but when his eyes adjusted, he saw the blond head poking out from under a pile of rubble in the kitchen.

***

“He’s conscious,” the doctor said and Lindsay sagged with relief against Brian’s shoulder. He wanted to push her off, but he was afraid he would fall if he wasn’t leaning back on her.

We’re going to keep him overnight for observation,” the doctor continued. “If there aren’t any complications from the concussion, he should be able to go home tomorrow.”

“What about his memory?” Brian asked. “You said before he might not remember everything.” Brian hated himself for hoping it was true, but if Justin remembered…

He saw Justin buried under the rubble clutching a photograph and the guilt twisted his guts again.

Justin had found the photograph Brian hadn’t destroyed. He’d totally forgotten about it. The one of them fucking the first time. The one he’d saved for himself when he planned to send the rest to Craig.

Just before he was almost killed, Justin had discovered what Brian had done and the thought of Justin hating him for it was unbearable.

Please don’t let him remember, Brian begged silently as he crushed the crumpled photo in his pocket.

The doctor’s response was cut off by Jennifer Taylor’s arrival. “Brian! What happened? I trusted you to protect him,” she cried hoarsely.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Brian hissed at Lindsay.

“She’s his mother. I called her,” Lindsay replied, taking Jennifer’s arm. “This is Doctor Sweetland,” she told Jennifer. “He was just telling us Justin’s going to be fine.”

The doctor shook her hand. “Yes. He has a broken collarbone that’s been set and he lost consciousness briefly, but he’s awake now. We’ll keep him overnight, but he should go home tomorrow. Besides that, he’s only got a few cuts and bruises. He’s a very lucky young man.”

“Can I see him?” she asked.

“Ab “Brian!” Lindsay gasped in shock.

“I warned you,” he glowered at Jennifer. “You did this! What did you tell Craig? Did you two plan to run me down and just take Justin home?”

“What?” she paled, slumping into a chair. “Craig?”

“If you do not control yourself, Mr. Grassi, I will have security escort you out,” the doctor cut in. “Regardless of what Justin wants.”

Brian glared at him, but Lindsay interjected, “Did Justin say something?”

“He asked to see Mr. Grassi. You can see him for a few minutes after he’s settled in his room. After that, you ladies may see him as well, but only for a few minutes,” he stressed again.

"Thank you,” Lindsay said and the doctor left them alone.

Jennifer clutched Lindsay’s hand. “Please! Tell me what happened!”

Lindsay sat beside her, glancing warily at Brian. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything before, but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Craig tried to run Brian over and crashed into the pool house.” Jennifer shook her head questioningly and Lindsay clarified, “That’s where Brian lives since we’re not really married.” Jennifer nodded that she understood that and Lindsay continued. “Justin was inside and some of the falling structure hit him.” Jennifer started to cry and Lindsay squeezed her hand. “But he’s alright, you heard the doctor.”

“I didn’t know,” Jennifer sniffed, trying to regain her composure. “Craig—I told him I was leaving him. I didn’t know he would—oh god…”

Lindsay hugged her, meeting Brian’s gaze and he looked away.

“Where is he?” Jennifer asked after a moment. “Has he been… arrested?”

Brian nodded. The fucker didn’t weasel out of it this time, although he still got off easier than Justin. Again. “The EMTs checked him out at the house,” he replied bitterly, “but he was fine so they hauled him off to the drunk tank.”

“He was drunk?” Jennifer gasped.

“Jennifer!” a voice boomed down the quiet corridor.

Brian, Jennifer, and Lindsay looked up to see an elderly gentlemen storming down the hall.

Jennifer stood. “Dad,” she replied shakily. “What are you doing here?”

He stopped in front of her, barely giving Brian or Lindsay a glance as he towered over his daughter. “Craig called me. What the hell is going on here? I have to go to the police department to bail out my son because no one told me Justin ran away from home? How dare you embarrass us like this!”

“Craig is the one who got drunk and drove into a building, almost killing my son,” Jennifer replied hotly.

Brian was impressed by the sudden transformation. One minute she was a sniveling mouse and the next she was a dangerous lioness.

“He was protecting your son from a pervert,” her father roared. “One I understand you let have him!”

“Justin is old enough to make his own decisions,” Brian countered, stepping forward as Lindsay pulled Jennifer back from the irate man. “He didn’t run away. Craig threw him out for being gay.”

Jennifer’s father glared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the pervert,” Brian replied coolly.

The tense stand-off was suddenly interrupted when a nurse timidly cleared her throat. “Mr. Grassi? You can see Justin now.”

Brian felt a wave of dread wash over him. The doctor hadn’t answered his question about Justin’s memory. Would he remember the picture?

Brian stared past the nurse toward the exit. He could just walk past her. Leave right now and never come back. Justin would certainly be better off if he did.

Brian was sure Justin would be alright with his mother now. She’d taken the first steps toward making things right and he believed she would carry it out. He couldn’t believe he suddenly respected her, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He was tired of dwelling on things for so long.

Justin’s grandfather clamped a hand on Brian’s shoulder as he tried to pass. “You will never touch my grandson again.” He turned to the nurse. “Call security. I want this man removed from the premises and arrested.”

“Sir--”

“Do it, or I’ll have your job!” he snapped.

“You have no right,” Jennifer shouted angrily. “Brian hasn’t done anything illegal. Craig is the one in jail! Where he belongs!”

“How dare you talk to me that way?” her father replied indignantly.

Jennifer squared her shoulders. “I’m surprised you even heard me. You’ve never listened to anything I’ve said before.”

“Listen here,” he stammered, his face reddening—if that was possible.

“No, you listen, dad. Brian is going to see Justin and we’re going to talk. About Craig and Brian and a lot of other things you don’t know about. Like Justin. And my daughter.”

Her father’s mouth gaped open and Brian took the opportunity to get by him. Lindsay grabbed his arm and kissed his cheek. “Give that to Justin for me.”

Jennifer squeezed his arm as well. “Tell him I’m here, please. And I’ll see him as soon as I can.”

Brian nodded and followed the nurse down the hall.

“This isn’t over,” Justin’s grandfather threatened as Brian turned the corner.

Hardly necessary since Brian fully understood it had really just begun.

The nurse pushed open the door to the room at the end of the hall and held it open for Brian, but he hesitated. “I, uh… what about his memory? Do you know--”

She smiled. “As far as we can tell, he hasn’t experienced any significant loss. He seems to remember everything up to losing consciousness. But we didn’t tell him much about the accident. We want to see if he remembers a little more on his own.”

Brian let out the breath he’d been holding. If Justin had asked to see him, he obviously didn’t remember the picture. It was probably discovered just before the crash and the memory was lost in the trauma.

Brian pushed anymore thoughts about it aside and focused on what was more important. He had to tell Justin his own father almost killed him. And why.

He wasn’t keeping anymore secrets from him.

***

“Brian,” Justin sighed with relief when he saw the other man. He tried to reach for him, but winced in pain from the break in his collarbone and the tight sling immobilizing it. His hand limply dropped to the bed. Brian saw his eyes cloud over as he bit his lip, obviously trying to stop himself from crying. Justin fidgeted on the bed, despite making things more uncomfortable for himself and Brian could hear his labored breathing and the beginning of a wheeze as Justin struggled to stay calm.

Jesus, the kid must’ve been terrified waking up in a hospital room with a bunch of strangers and nobody telling him anything. Brian put his hand over Justin’s to stop him from hurting himself anymore as he squirmed anxiously.

But he wasn’t holding it. Justin didn’t need to be coddled. No, Brian was just covering his hand, keeping him still.

“You’re okay,” Justin said, seemingly to himself. “They said there was an accident. I thought you--” his eyes closed for a moment and he laid his head back against the pillow. “I thought--” he tried again, brows furrowed. “You’re okay,” he repeated, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

Brian nodded, tentatively running his finger along the edge of a bandage on Justin’s cheek. “There was an accident,” he confirmed, his hand sliding around Justin’s neck to gently knead the tense muscles. “What do you remember?”

Justin looked at him questioningly. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” When Brian just raised an eyebrow he scowled. “I was talking to Lindsay and I realized it was almost six so I went back to the house to change,” he recited for what was probably the tenth time already. “I was looking for a scissors in the nightstand, to cut a string on my shirt, when I heard you pull up. And then I woke up here, but I didn’t know where you were. What happened?” he demanded. “They won’t tell me anything else!”

Brian struggled to keep his face impassive. Justin didn’t remember finding the photo in the nightstand. His stomach flipped when he realized he’d forgotten it was there and Justin could’ve found it any time. Christ. “It’s a good thing you didn’t find the scissors, or you might’ve been hurt worse,” he remarked off-handedly, watching Justin’s reaction. “You could’ve accidentally cut off your dick when you—when--” When your dad almost killed you.

But he couldn’t say it. Shit.

“There weren’t any scissors in the drawer, just papers and stuff,” Justin huffed impatiently. “You should clean it out and put things were they belong.”

Brian studied the boy’s face. Jesus. He really didn’t remember… or maybe he never actually looked at it? Could he have just been holding it, but didn’t notice it before—

“Brian, what happened?” Justin prodded.

“A car… crashed into the pool house,” Brian finally replied. “When you were inside. The roof collapsed and you were trapped underneath.”

Justin’s mouth gaped open. “A car? Your car?”

“No, it was… your dad. He must’ve been waiting for me to get home and tried to run me down. He lost control and crashed. I’m sure he never thought you would be inside.”

Justin paled as his mouth twisted in horror. “Dad?”

Misinterpreting Justin’s shock, Brian squeezed his hand. “He’s alright, Justin. Everyone’s fine.”

“He tried to kill you!” Justin cried, shaking as he clung tighter to Brian, “Because of me! It’s my fault!”

Brian shook his head. Always the drama princess thinking the world revolved around him.

Okay, so this time he was right.

“No,” he said pointedly, “it’s not your fault. None of it was ever your fault.”

“But I--”

“Justin, your dad and I have more history between us than just you and I. That’s what this is really about.”

Justin shifted to watch Brian more closely as he started to pace, but the pain made him gasp and Brian took his hand again. “Jesus, stop doing that,” he reprimanded.

“Tell me--”

But Brian shook his head again. “Tomorrow,” he decided aloud. “You need to re--”

“I can’t rest!”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a twat. It can wait until tomorrow. Trust, me another day won’t matter.” He awkwardly patted Justin’s leg, not wanting to hurt any bruises and not wanting to tempt himself into staying longer if he touched him anymore. “I’m going to go and--”

“No, don’t go,” Justin pleaded.

“Just--”

“They won’t let me sleep,” he argued, “because of the concussion. Please stay. Tell me what’s going on.”

But Brian still couldn’t do it. The kid had been roughed up enough for one night. “Your mom’s here,” he told Justin. “She wants to see you. And I’m sure she’ll want to stay with you.”

“Mom?” Justin echoed. Brian detected a note of hope, yet wariness, in his voice. “I-I want to see her,” Justin admitted, “but I don’t want her to stay.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need her,” Justin replied defiantly, clearly missing the irony of clinging to Brian as he said it. “I’m not a child.”

But he was, Brian knew, and he felt his guts twist again for what he’d done to this innocent kid. Jesus, those pictures alone were unforgivable.

“Everyone needs a mother,” Brian said before he could stop himself.

“You didn’t. You went to live with Vic when your parents kicked you out.”

“I had-- ” Someone else. He loved Debbie like the mom he never had growing up. But Justin didn’t need a surrogate when he had his own mother and she loved him enough to put him first.

“I have to go,” Brian said abruptly. “Your mom will be in a minute.”

“Brian, wait! I can go home tomorrow, right?”

Brian paused and nodded.

“But where are we going to stay? The pool--”

“You’re going home with your mom. Where you belong.”

“No! Brian--”

But the door shut behind Brian and he ignored Justin’s pleas as he hurried down the hall. He saw Jennifer heading toward him and he pointed back to Justin’s room. “He’s waiting for you,” he said as he kept walking. “Where’s Lindsay?”

“Outside. She wanted to call the sitter.”

He nodded and said, “Good night, Jennifer,” as he headed for the elevators.

“Brian, wait,” she called as she followed him.

He stopped and glared at her. “What?”

She wrung her hands nervously, but didn’t back down from his gaze. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for Justin, but I think--”

“I didn’t do anything for Justin,” he cut in angrily, letting the mask drop. By her startled step backward he realized it would be easier than he thought to cut their ties. “It was for me. I wanted your asshole husband to pay for what he did so I plotted for a long time and then Justin literally fell into my lap. Making him love me was almost too easy. He really is a sweet kid.” He calmly thumbed the button for the elevator and turned back to her. “And just as I predicted, Craig couldn’t handle it so the fucker is going to rot in prison for trying to kill me.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he waited for the elevator doors to open. “It’s too late for Vic and Michael, but better late than never I guess. Your husband should’ve been in prison years ago and I’ve been planning to put him there ever since that night.” He sneered at her shocked face and added, “Fucking Justin was just the cherry on top. Pardon the expression.”

He didn’t see her hand come up to slap him, but he wasn’t surprised when he felt the sting. He just stepped back into the open elevator and waved as the doors closed.

Brian walked outside and leaned against the building as he lit a cigarette and watched Lindsay pace a few feet away as she talked on her cell phone. He let the first drag push the remaining pain away and then started toward his friend.

Shit. She’d never let him hear the end of it when he told her Jennifer was taking Justin home again. Fucking maternal bullshit, blah, blah, blah.

He took another long drag and eyed the cigarette with annoyance. He definitely needed something stronger and he wondered if Anita would be at Babylon yet.

He waved to Lindsay and headed to the car. He could hear her heels clicking across the cement as she hurried to catch up with him and he steeled himself for her interrogation on the way home.

But first…

Pulling out the photo in his pocket, he used his lighter to burn it and left the ashes smoldering in the parking lot.

***

Brian rolled over and felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He remembered fucking the dark-haired, olive-skinned trick in the parking lot, but he didn’t think he’d brought him home. Brian was about to tell him to take a hike when he realized the lithe body pressed against his back was shorter than he remembered, one knobby knee pressing against the back of his thighs. Brian shifted and saw the arm anchoring him had pale skin and fine golden hair. He felt warm lips brush against the back of his neck, gently pulling at the shortest hairs along the nape and making his dick leap like a marionette. Twisting further, he held his breath until he could see the tousled blond hair out of the corner of his eye.

“Justin,” rushed from his lips before he could stop himself. He didn’t care how the kid got there, he was just—

“Jonah,” the trick corrected him, his green eyes coming into focus as he hovered over Brian. “How hard is that to fucking remember?” he huffed.

Brian scowled at him, the disappointment rising like bile in his throat. He pushed the kid away and sat up. The room teetered a bit and he hung his head in his hands to stop the throbbing that suddenly threatened to make his head explode.

He stared down at the ratty beige carpet under his feet and then his eyes settled on the red and green pattern of the bedspread with its gold fringe. Jesus, where the fuck was he? He glanced around again and saw the keycard on the nightstand. He recognized the hotel crest and realized he must've stumbled into the dive down the street from Babylon.

The trick scrambled behind him, pressed to his back again. “It’s not that big a deal, call me anything you want,” he offered, kissing Brian’s neck again. “Just fuck--”

“Fuck off,” Brian growled, shoving him away again.

The kid bounced to the end of the mattress, but quickly upended himself and sat with his legs tucked underneath. He cocked his head to the side, lips pursed in annoyance. “I thought you liked that. You said--”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Brian snarled with a piercing glare.

The green eyes flashed back like sharp emeralds and Brian had to look away from the brightness. “You said I could stay. You said--”

“Alright,” Brian snapped. Clearly, he’d said a lot of shit he couldn’t remember.

Clearly, he’d lost his fucking mind if he went trolling for chicken just to—Jesus, he was a fucking pervert.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, standing on shaky legs as he searched for his pants. “I’ll take you home.”

***

Brian let himself into the quiet house, grateful Lindsay was out. Things had been extremely volatile between them since Brian had pushed Justin away. It was definitely enough to make him consider scrapping the pool house remodeling all together and just moving into a loft downtown.

Except he liked being close to Gus. Which was why he let Lindsay talk him into staying in the guest room while the pool house was being repaired in the first place. At the time it had seemed like a logical solution. But now he barely came home except to change clothes between rotations of work, going out fucking, and back to work again.

And he definitely needed to change now. It had been two days since he’d last been home. He’d stormed out of the house Friday night and hadn’t returned since after Lindsay left the article of Craig Taylor’s plea bargain on the kitchen table.

Fucking cunt.

He let himself into the house and headed for the shower. As soon as he cleaned up, he would pack a bag and move into a nicer hotel, close to the office, while he decided what to do about a permanent place to live.

But first, he detoured to the liquor cabinet.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" a voice behind him asked.

He turned to see Debbie standing in the hall. She looked him over as she crossed the room and took the glass from him with a disgusted grunt. "Or too late, from the look of you."

"What are you doing here?" he grumbled, snatching the glass back and taking a large gulp. Although if he wanted to guess, he’d say the cunt called her. God dammit.

Debbie didn’t need this shit. Yes, once the dust settled and he had something to tell her, like Craig Taylor was going to spend the rest of his life bent over as some other con’s bitch, he was going to let her know he’d finally done it. The bastard was paying his pound of flesh… over and over. But until then, he didn’t want to dredge the pain up again. He’d never do that to her.

"What? I need a reason to come see you kids?" she snapped.

Brian arched an eyebrow. Did she really fucking think he’d buy that one? "Yes. You haven't come back to the Pitts since Gus was born." He refilled his glass and pushed past her.

Debbie grabbed his arm, her talon-like nails digging into his skin. He knew better than to try and get away until she was ready to let go, he’d seemed to molt off layers and layers of skin on demand from her like that over the years, so he stood still, glowering at her in defiance instead.

"You know I didn't want to be anywhere near here," she replied flatly. "But I didn't realize you'd be getting yourself into such a mess without anyone here to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

“What mess?” he sneered. “I’m beautiful.”

“Not right now you ain’t, kid. You’re a fucking mess. I haven’t seen you this bad since Mic--”

His hand flew up and lightly touched her lips. Yeah, he could think it. Plot to avenge it. Live with it. Fucking smother in it. But he could never say it out loud to her. Never. “Don’t,” he pleaded gruffly. “Just… go home, Deb.”

Brian rolled his eyes. He’d never get an answer from her like this. He walked around the desk and awkwardly patted her shoulder. When she lifted her head, he handed her a tissue and stayed behind her as she put herself back together. “Jennifer, tell me what happened,” he said as genuinely as he could muster.

“After the accident,” she sniffed, “after I remembered… I was taking…I was addicted to valium. Craig threatened to tell my family and have me put in a… hospital.”

He eyed her warily. If she was still popping pills she was hardly trustworthy. “And now?”

“I quit. I quit that day.”

Brian grabbed the arms of her chair and turned her to face him. He looked directly into her eyes and snarled, “Just like that?”

She didn’t blink. “Just like that. He’s my son.”

Brian nodded and straightened himself, smoothing his jacket as he returned to his seat. He wasn’t going to think about it anymore. It wasn’t his call. He jotted the phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to her. “This is Justin’s cell phone.” If she was surprised he had a phone of his own, she didn’t show it. “It’s up to him if he wants to talk to you. But, Jennifer, if I find out anyone else has called him, like Craig, I will change the number. And I’ll tell him why.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She stood and turned to the door.

“Jennifer.” Brian didn’t know why he stopped her. “I—care for him,” he said before he could stop himself.

She smiled sadly at him. “I know.”

***

“Justin’s on line two.”

Brian closed the folder he’d been staring at and tapped the line. “Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Brian, don’t be mad, okay? I didn’t call her, I don’t know how she got it. I--”

“What are you talking about?” Brian snapped. He hated when the kid started to ramble.

“My mom called. But I didn’t talk to her.”

“Why not?” Brian asked. Had he misunderstood the kid’s moping around?

“I don’t know how she got the number! And--”

“Justin, it’s okay,” Brian sighed. Christ, the kid was wound tighter than a pocket watch. “I gave it to her. If you’d check your messages you’d see I called to tell you she came to see me. Talk to her if you want to.”

“It’s okay?”

“She’s your mother, for fuck’s sake,” Brian huffed.

“W-what did she want?” Justin asked nervously.

“She wants to talk to you,” Brain replied, forcing himself to be patient. Jesus Christ.

“She’s not going to take me home is she? Do you want me to go?”

Brian was surprised. “You don’t want to?”

Justin was silent for a moment. “I want to talk to her. But I don’t want to live there. Not with my dad… and I… I want to be with you.”

Brian squeezed the phone tighter involuntarily. “Call her,” he replied gruffly.

“Okay,” Justin said, perking up slightly. “When will you be home?”

“I--” Brian had an urge to go to Woody’s after work and get drunk and fuck, but suddenly it gave way to something stronger. “I’ll pick you up at six and we’ll go out to eat.”

“Do you want me to tell Lindsay?” Justin asked. His new mommy had insisted they eat as many meals together as possible to make Justin feel like he still had a ‘family’.

“Tell her we’re going out,” Brian said, “but it’s just the two of us.”

Justin gasped. “Like a date?” he asked excitedly, making Brian cringe.

“Be ready at six,” Brian barked before hanging up.

***

When Brian turned into the driveway, he didn’t see the car parked across the street. He had just gotten out of his jeep and was walking toward the pool house when the car sped up the driveway behind him. Brian didn’t recognize it, but he realized its intention immediately and barely dove over the hood of the jeep as the driver tried to run him down. The driver didn’t have time to stop, looking back Brian would realize he never had any intention of stopping, and crashed into the pool house.

Brian watched in horror as the small building’s structure collapsed in on itself.

Where was Justin?

“Justin!” Brian screamed, searching for a way inside.

Lindsay ran outside. “My god, Brian! What happened?” She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him from the wreckage, but he shook her off.

”Where’s Justin?” he yelled at her, looking over her shoulder to see him in the house and not… not...

Lindsay gasped and started shaking. “He just—he’s--” she sank to her knees sobbing and Brian let her go.

He pulled out his cell phone and called 911 as he tried to dig his way in. Once the ambulance was on the way, he hung up and decided to try and crawl through the car if it wasn’t completely crushed.

He opened the back door and climbed over the seat, finding himself face to face with the unconscious driver. Craig Taylor. Brian probably would’ve beaten what was left of the man’s face to a pulp against the steering wheel if he wasn’t desperate to find Justin.

The windshield was already cracked so he kicked it out and scrambled over the debris on the hood.

“Justin?” he called, coughing from the dust swirling around him. “Justin, answer me!”

He didn’t get an answer, but when his eyes adjusted, he saw the blond head poking out from under a pile of rubble in the kitchen.

***

“He’s conscious,” the doctor said and Lindsay sagged with relief against Brian’s shoulder. He wanted to push her off, but he was afraid he would fall if he wasn’t leaning back on her.

We’re going to keep him overnight for observation,” the doctor continued. “If there aren’t any complications from the concussion, he should be able to go home tomorrow.”

“What about his memory?” Brian asked. “You said before he might not remember everything.” Brian hated himself for hoping it was true, but if Justin remembered…

He saw Justin buried under the rubble clutching a photograph and the guilt twisted his guts again.

Justin had found the photograph Brian hadn’t destroyed. He’d totally forgotten about it. The one of them fucking the first time. The one he’d saved for himself when he planned to send the rest to Craig.

Just before he was almost killed, Justin had discovered what Brian had done and the thought of Justin hating him for it was unbearable.

Please don’t let him remember, Brian begged silently as he crushed the crumpled photo in his pocket.

The doctor’s response was cut off by Jennifer Taylor’s arrival. “Brian! What happened? I trusted you to protect him,” she cried hoarsely.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Brian hissed at Lindsay.

“She’s his mother. I called her,” Lindsay replied, taking Jennifer’s arm. “This is Doctor Sweetland,” she told Jennifer. “He was just telling us Justin’s going to be fine.”

The doctor shook her hand. “Yes. He has a broken collarbone that’s been set and he lost consciousness briefly, but he’s awake now. We’ll keep him overnight, but he should go home tomorrow. Besides that, he’s only got a few cuts and bruises. He’s a very lucky young man.”

“Can I see him?” she asked.

“Ab “Brian!” Lindsay gasped in shock.

“I warned you,” he glowered at Jennifer. “You did this! What did you tell Craig? Did you two plan to run me down and just take Justin home?”

“What?” she paled, slumping into a chair. “Craig?”

“If you do not control yourself, Mr. Grassi, I will have security escort you out,” the doctor cut in. “Regardless of what Justin wants.”

Brian glared at him, but Lindsay interjected, “Did Justin say something?”

“He asked to see Mr. Grassi. You can see him for a few minutes after he’s settled in his room. After that, you ladies may see him as well, but only for a few minutes,” he stressed again.

"Thank you,” Lindsay said and the doctor left them alone.

Jennifer clutched Lindsay’s hand. “Please! Tell me what happened!”

Lindsay sat beside her, glancing warily at Brian. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything before, but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Craig tried to run Brian over and crashed into the pool house.” Jennifer shook her head questioningly and Lindsay clarified, “That’s where Brian lives since we’re not really married.” Jennifer nodded that she understood that and Lindsay continued. “Justin was inside and some of the falling structure hit him.” Jennifer started to cry and Lindsay squeezed her hand. “But he’s alright, you heard the doctor.”

“I didn’t know,” Jennifer sniffed, trying to regain her composure. “Craig—I told him I was leaving him. I didn’t know he would—oh god…”

Lindsay hugged her, meeting Brian’s gaze and he looked away.

“Where is he?” Jennifer asked after a moment. “Has he been… arrested?”

Brian nodded. The fucker didn’t weasel out of it this time, although he still got off easier than Justin. Again. “The EMTs checked him out at the house,” he replied bitterly, “but he was fine so they hauled him off to the drunk tank.”

“He was drunk?” Jennifer gasped.

“Jennifer!” a voice boomed down the quiet corridor.

Brian, Jennifer, and Lindsay looked up to see an elderly gentlemen storming down the hall.

Jennifer stood. “Dad,” she replied shakily. “What are you doing here?”

He stopped in front of her, barely giving Brian or Lindsay a glance as he towered over his daughter. “Craig called me. What the hell is going on here? I have to go to the police department to bail out my son because no one told me Justin ran away from home? How dare you embarrass us like this!”

“Craig is the one who got drunk and drove into a building, almost killing my son,” Jennifer replied hotly.

Brian was impressed by the sudden transformation. One minute she was a sniveling mouse and the next she was a dangerous lioness.

“He was protecting your son from a pervert,” her father roared. “One I understand you let have him!”

“Justin is old enough to make his own decisions,” Brian countered, stepping forward as Lindsay pulled Jennifer back from the irate man. “He didn’t run away. Craig threw him out for being gay.”

Jennifer’s father glared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the pervert,” Brian replied coolly.

The tense stand-off was suddenly interrupted when a nurse timidly cleared her throat. “Mr. Grassi? You can see Justin now.”

Brian felt a wave of dread wash over him. The doctor hadn’t answered his question about Justin’s memory. Would he remember the picture?

Brian stared past the nurse toward the exit. He could just walk past her. Leave right now and never come back. Justin would certainly be better off if he did.

Brian was sure Justin would be alright with his mother now. She’d taken the first steps toward making things right and he believed she would carry it out. He couldn’t believe he suddenly respected her, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He was tired of dwelling on things for so long.

Justin’s grandfather clamped a hand on Brian’s shoulder as he tried to pass. “You will never touch my grandson again.” He turned to the nurse. “Call security. I want this man removed from the premises and arrested.”

“Sir--”

“Do it, or I’ll have your job!” he snapped.

“You have no right,” Jennifer shouted angrily. “Brian hasn’t done anything illegal. Craig is the one in jail! Where he belongs!”

“How dare you talk to me that way?” her father replied indignantly.

Jennifer squared her shoulders. “I’m surprised you even heard me. You’ve never listened to anything I’ve said before.”

“Listen here,” he stammered, his face reddening—if that was possible.

“No, you listen, dad. Brian is going to see Justin and we’re going to talk. About Craig and Brian and a lot of other things you don’t know about. Like Justin. And my daughter.”

Her father’s mouth gaped open and Brian took the opportunity to get by him. Lindsay grabbed his arm and kissed his cheek. “Give that to Justin for me.”

Jennifer squeezed his arm as well. “Tell him I’m here, please. And I’ll see him as soon as I can.”

Brian nodded and followed the nurse down the hall.

“This isn’t over,” Justin’s grandfather threatened as Brian turned the corner.

Hardly necessary since Brian fully understood it had really just begun.

The nurse pushed open the door to the room at the end of the hall and held it open for Brian, but he hesitated. “I, uh… what about his memory? Do you know--”

She smiled. “As far as we can tell, he hasn’t experienced any significant loss. He seems to remember everything up to losing consciousness. But we didn’t tell him much about the accident. We want to see if he remembers a little more on his own.”

Brian let out the breath he’d been holding. If Justin had asked to see him, he obviously didn’t remember the picture. It was probably discovered just before the crash and the memory was lost in the trauma.

Brian pushed anymore thoughts about it aside and focused on what was more important. He had to tell Justin his own father almost killed him. And why.

He wasn’t keeping anymore secrets from him.

***

“Brian,” Justin sighed with relief when he saw the other man. He tried to reach for him, but winced in pain from the break in his collarbone and the tight sling immobilizing it. His hand limply dropped to the bed. Brian saw his eyes cloud over as he bit his lip, obviously trying to stop himself from crying. Justin fidgeted on the bed, despite making things more uncomfortable for himself and Brian could hear his labored breathing and the beginning of a wheeze as Justin struggled to stay calm.

Jesus, the kid must’ve been terrified waking up in a hospital room with a bunch of strangers and nobody telling him anything. Brian put his hand over Justin’s to stop him from hurting himself anymore as he squirmed anxiously.

But he wasn’t holding it. Justin didn’t need to be coddled. No, Brian was just covering his hand, keeping him still.

“You’re okay,” Justin said, seemingly to himself. “They said there was an accident. I thought you--” his eyes closed for a moment and he laid his head back against the pillow. “I thought--” he tried again, brows furrowed. “You’re okay,” he repeated, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

Brian nodded, tentatively running his finger along the edge of a bandage on Justin’s cheek. “There was an accident,” he confirmed, his hand sliding around Justin’s neck to gently knead the tense muscles. “What do you remember?”

Justin looked at him questioningly. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” When Brian just raised an eyebrow he scowled. “I was talking to Lindsay and I realized it was almost six so I went back to the house to change,” he recited for what was probably the tenth time already. “I was looking for a scissors in the nightstand, to cut a string on my shirt, when I heard you pull up. And then I woke up here, but I didn’t know where you were. What happened?” he demanded. “They won’t tell me anything else!”

Brian struggled to keep his face impassive. Justin didn’t remember finding the photo in the nightstand. His stomach flipped when he realized he’d forgotten it was there and Justin could’ve found it any time. Christ. “It’s a good thing you didn’t find the scissors, or you might’ve been hurt worse,” he remarked off-handedly, watching Justin’s reaction. “You could’ve accidentally cut off your dick when you—when--” When your dad almost killed you.

But he couldn’t say it. Shit.

“There weren’t any scissors in the drawer, just papers and stuff,” Justin huffed impatiently. “You should clean it out and put things were they belong.”

Brian studied the boy’s face. Jesus. He really didn’t remember… or maybe he never actually looked at it? Could he have just been holding it, but didn’t notice it before—

“Brian, what happened?” Justin prodded.

“A car… crashed into the pool house,” Brian finally replied. “When you were inside. The roof collapsed and you were trapped underneath.”

Justin’s mouth gaped open. “A car? Your car?”

“No, it was… your dad. He must’ve been waiting for me to get home and tried to run me down. He lost control and crashed. I’m sure he never thought you would be inside.”

Justin paled as his mouth twisted in horror. “Dad?”

Misinterpreting Justin’s shock, Brian squeezed his hand. “He’s alright, Justin. Everyone’s fine.”

“He tried to kill you!” Justin cried, shaking as he clung tighter to Brian, “Because of me! It’s my fault!”

Brian shook his head. Always the drama princess thinking the world revolved around him.

Okay, so this time he was right.

“No,” he said pointedly, “it’s not your fault. None of it was ever your fault.”

“But I--”

“Justin, your dad and I have more history between us than just you and I. That’s what this is really about.”

Justin shifted to watch Brian more closely as he started to pace, but the pain made him gasp and Brian took his hand again. “Jesus, stop doing that,” he reprimanded.

“Tell me--”

But Brian shook his head again. “Tomorrow,” he decided aloud. “You need to re--”

“I can’t rest!”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a twat. It can wait until tomorrow. Trust, me another day won’t matter.” He awkwardly patted Justin’s leg, not wanting to hurt any bruises and not wanting to tempt himself into staying longer if he touched him anymore. “I’m going to go and--”

“No, don’t go,” Justin pleaded.

“Just--”

“They won’t let me sleep,” he argued, “because of the concussion. Please stay. Tell me what’s going on.”

But Brian still couldn’t do it. The kid had been roughed up enough for one night. “Your mom’s here,” he told Justin. “She wants to see you. And I’m sure she’ll want to stay with you.”

“Mom?” Justin echoed. Brian detected a note of hope, yet wariness, in his voice. “I-I want to see her,” Justin admitted, “but I don’t want her to stay.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need her,” Justin replied defiantly, clearly missing the irony of clinging to Brian as he said it. “I’m not a child.”

But he was, Brian knew, and he felt his guts twist again for what he’d done to this innocent kid. Jesus, those pictures alone were unforgivable.

“Everyone needs a mother,” Brian said before he could stop himself.

“You didn’t. You went to live with Vic when your parents kicked you out.”

“I had-- ” Someone else. He loved Debbie like the mom he never had growing up. But Justin didn’t need a surrogate when he had his own mother and she loved him enough to put him first.

“I have to go,” Brian said abruptly. “Your mom will be in a minute.”

“Brian, wait! I can go home tomorrow, right?”

Brian paused and nodded.

“But where are we going to stay? The pool--”

“You’re going home with your mom. Where you belong.”

“No! Brian--”

But the door shut behind Brian and he ignored Justin’s pleas as he hurried down the hall. He saw Jennifer heading toward him and he pointed back to Justin’s room. “He’s waiting for you,” he said as he kept walking. “Where’s Lindsay?”

“Outside. She wanted to call the sitter.”

He nodded and said, “Good night, Jennifer,” as he headed for the elevators.

“Brian, wait,” she called as she followed him.

He stopped and glared at her. “What?”

She wrung her hands nervously, but didn’t back down from his gaze. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for Justin, but I think--”

“I didn’t do anything for Justin,” he cut in angrily, letting the mask drop. By her startled step backward he realized it would be easier than he thought to cut their ties. “It was for me. I wanted your asshole husband to pay for what he did so I plotted for a long time and then Justin literally fell into my lap. Making him love me was almost too easy. He really is a sweet kid.” He calmly thumbed the button for the elevator and turned back to her. “And just as I predicted, Craig couldn’t handle it so the fucker is going to rot in prison for trying to kill me.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he waited for the elevator doors to open. “It’s too late for Vic and Michael, but better late than never I guess. Your husband should’ve been in prison years ago and I’ve been planning to put him there ever since that night.” He sneered at her shocked face and added, “Fucking Justin was just the cherry on top. Pardon the expression.”

He didn’t see her hand come up to slap him, but he wasn’t surprised when he felt the sting. He just stepped back into the open elevator and waved as the doors closed.

Brian walked outside and leaned against the building as he lit a cigarette and watched Lindsay pace a few feet away as she talked on her cell phone. He let the first drag push the remaining pain away and then started toward his friend.

Shit. She’d never let him hear the end of it when he told her Jennifer was taking Justin home again. Fucking maternal bullshit, blah, blah, blah.

He took another long drag and eyed the cigarette with annoyance. He definitely needed something stronger and he wondered if Anita would be at Babylon yet.

He waved to Lindsay and headed to the car. He could hear her heels clicking across the cement as she hurried to catch up with him and he steeled himself for her interrogation on the way home.

But first…

Pulling out the photo in his pocket, he used his lighter to burn it and left the ashes smoldering in the parking lot.

***

Brian rolled over and felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He remembered fucking the dark-haired, olive-skinned trick in the parking lot, but he didn’t think he’d brought him home. Brian was about to tell him to take a hike when he realized the lithe body pressed against his back was shorter than he remembered, one knobby knee pressing against the back of his thighs. Brian shifted and saw the arm anchoring him had pale skin and fine golden hair. He felt warm lips brush against the back of his neck, gently pulling at the shortest hairs along the nape and making his dick leap like a marionette. Twisting further, he held his breath until he could see the tousled blond hair out of the corner of his eye.

“Justin,” rushed from his lips before he could stop himself. He didn’t care how the kid got there, he was just—

“Jonah,” the trick corrected him, his green eyes coming into focus as he hovered over Brian. “How hard is that to fucking remember?” he huffed.

Brian scowled at him, the disappointment rising like bile in his throat. He pushed the kid away and sat up. The room teetered a bit and he hung his head in his hands to stop the throbbing that suddenly threatened to make his head explode.

He stared down at the ratty beige carpet under his feet and then his eyes settled on the red and green pattern of the bedspread with its gold fringe. Jesus, where the fuck was he? He glanced around again and saw the keycard on the nightstand. He recognized the hotel crest and realized he must've stumbled into the dive down the street from Babylon.

The trick scrambled behind him, pressed to his back again. “It’s not that big a deal, call me anything you want,” he offered, kissing Brian’s neck again. “Just fuck--”

“Fuck off,” Brian growled, shoving him away again.

The kid bounced to the end of the mattress, but quickly upended himself and sat with his legs tucked underneath. He cocked his head to the side, lips pursed in annoyance. “I thought you liked that. You said--”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Brian snarled with a piercing glare.

The green eyes flashed back like sharp emeralds and Brian had to look away from the brightness. “You said I could stay. You said--”

“Alright,” Brian snapped. Clearly, he’d said a lot of shit he couldn’t remember.

Clearly, he’d lost his fucking mind if he went trolling for chicken just to—Jesus, he was a fucking pervert.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, standing on shaky legs as he searched for his pants. “I’ll take you home.”

***

Brian let himself into the quiet house, grateful Lindsay was out. Things had been extremely volatile between them since Brian had pushed Justin away. It was definitely enough to make him consider scrapping the pool house remodeling all together and just moving into a loft downtown.

Except he liked being close to Gus. Which was why he let Lindsay talk him into staying in the guest room while the pool house was being repaired in the first place. At the time it had seemed like a logical solution. But now he barely came home except to change clothes between rotations of work, going out fucking, and back to work again.

And he definitely needed to change now. It had been two days since he’d last been home. He’d stormed out of the house Friday night and hadn’t returned since after Lindsay left the article of Craig Taylor’s plea bargain on the kitchen table.

Fucking cunt.

He let himself into the house and headed for the shower. As soon as he cleaned up, he would pack a bag and move into a nicer hotel, close to the office, while he decided what to do about a permanent place to live.

But first, he detoured to the liquor cabinet.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" a voice behind him asked.

He turned to see Debbie standing in the hall. She looked him over as she crossed the room and took the glass from him with a disgusted grunt. "Or too late, from the look of you."

"What are you doing here?" he grumbled, snatching the glass back and taking a large gulp. Although if he wanted to guess, he’d say the cunt called her. God dammit.

Debbie didn’t need this shit. Yes, once the dust settled and he had something to tell her, like Craig Taylor was going to spend the rest of his life bent over as some other con’s bitch, he was going to let her know he’d finally done it. The bastard was paying his pound of flesh… over and over. But until then, he didn’t want to dredge the pain up again. He’d never do that to her.

"What? I need a reason to come see you kids?" she snapped.

Brian arched an eyebrow. Did she really fucking think he’d buy that one? "Yes. You haven't come back to the Pitts since Gus was born." He refilled his glass and pushed past her.

Debbie grabbed his arm, her talon-like nails digging into his skin. He knew better than to try and get away until she was ready to let go, he’d seemed to molt off layers and layers of skin on demand from her like that over the years, so he stood still, glowering at her in defiance instead.

"You know I didn't want to be anywhere near here," she replied flatly. "But I didn't realize you'd be getting yourself into such a mess without anyone here to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

“What mess?” he sneered. “I’m beautiful.”

“Not right now you ain’t, kid. You’re a fucking mess. I haven’t seen you this bad since Mic--”

His hand flew up and lightly touched her lips. Yeah, he could think it. Plot to avenge it. Live with it. Fucking smother in it. But he could never say it out loud to her. Never. “Don’t,” he pleaded gruffly. “Just… go home, Deb.”

Brian rolled his eyes. He’d never get an answer from her like this. He walked around the desk and awkwardly patted her shoulder. When she lifted her head, he handed her a tissue and stayed behind her as she put herself back together. “Jennifer, tell me what happened,” he said as genuinely as he could muster.

“After the accident,” she sniffed, “after I remembered… I was taking…I was addicted to valium. Craig threatened to tell my family and have me put in a… hospital.”

He eyed her warily. If she was still popping pills she was hardly trustworthy. “And now?”

“I quit. I quit that day.”

Brian grabbed the arms of her chair and turned her to face him. He looked directly into her eyes and snarled, “Just like that?”

She didn’t blink. “Just like that. He’s my son.”

Brian nodded and straightened himself, smoothing his jacket as he returned to his seat. He wasn’t going to think about it anymore. It wasn’t his call. He jotted the phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to her. “This is Justin’s cell phone.” If she was surprised he had a phone of his own, she didn’t show it. “It’s up to him if he wants to talk to you. But, Jennifer, if I find out anyone else has called him, like Craig, I will change the number. And I’ll tell him why.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She stood and turned to the door.

“Jennifer.” Brian didn’t know why he stopped her. “I—care for him,” he said before he could stop himself.

She smiled sadly at him. “I know.”

***

“Justin’s on line two.”

Brian closed the folder he’d been staring at and tapped the line. “Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Brian, don’t be mad, okay? I didn’t call her, I don’t know how she got it. I--”

“What are you talking about?” Brian snapped. He hated when the kid started to ramble.

“My mom called. But I didn’t talk to her.”

“Why not?” Brian asked. Had he misunderstood the kid’s moping around?

“I don’t know how she got the number! And--”

“Justin, it’s okay,” Brian sighed. Christ, the kid was wound tighter than a pocket watch. “I gave it to her. If you’d check your messages you’d see I called to tell you she came to see me. Talk to her if you want to.”

“It’s okay?”

“She’s your mother, for fuck’s sake,” Brian huffed.

“W-what did she want?” Justin asked nervously.

“She wants to talk to you,” Brain replied, forcing himself to be patient. Jesus Christ.

“She’s not going to take me home is she? Do you want me to go?”

Brian was surprised. “You don’t want to?”

Justin was silent for a moment. “I want to talk to her. But I don’t want to live there. Not with my dad… and I… I want to be with you.”

Brian squeezed the phone tighter involuntarily. “Call her,” he replied gruffly.

“Okay,” Justin said, perking up slightly. “When will you be home?”

“I--” Brian had an urge to go to Woody’s after work and get drunk and fuck, but suddenly it gave way to something stronger. “I’ll pick you up at six and we’ll go out to eat.”

“Do you want me to tell Lindsay?” Justin asked. His new mommy had insisted they eat as many meals together as possible to make Justin feel like he still had a ‘family’.

“Tell her we’re going out,” Brian said, “but it’s just the two of us.”

Justin gasped. “Like a date?” he asked excitedly, making Brian cringe.

“Be ready at six,” Brian barked before hanging up.

***

When Brian turned into the driveway, he didn’t see the car parked across the street. He had just gotten out of his jeep and was walking toward the pool house when the car sped up the driveway behind him. Brian didn’t recognize it, but he realized its intention immediately and barely dove over the hood of the jeep as the driver tried to run him down. The driver didn’t have time to stop, looking back Brian would realize he never had any intention of stopping, and crashed into the pool house.

Brian watched in horror as the small building’s structure collapsed in on itself.

Where was Justin?

“Justin!” Brian screamed, searching for a way inside.

Lindsay ran outside. “My god, Brian! What happened?” She grabbed his arm, trying to pull him from the wreckage, but he shook her off.

”Where’s Justin?” he yelled at her, looking over her shoulder to see him in the house and not… not...

Lindsay gasped and started shaking. “He just—he’s--” she sank to her knees sobbing and Brian let her go.

He pulled out his cell phone and called 911 as he tried to dig his way in. Once the ambulance was on the way, he hung up and decided to try and crawl through the car if it wasn’t completely crushed.

He opened the back door and climbed over the seat, finding himself face to face with the unconscious driver. Craig Taylor. Brian probably would’ve beaten what was left of the man’s face to a pulp against the steering wheel if he wasn’t desperate to find Justin.

The windshield was already cracked so he kicked it out and scrambled over the debris on the hood.

“Justin?” he called, coughing from the dust swirling around him. “Justin, answer me!”

He didn’t get an answer, but when his eyes adjusted, he saw the blond head poking out from under a pile of rubble in the kitchen.

***

“He’s conscious,” the doctor said and Lindsay sagged with relief against Brian’s shoulder. He wanted to push her off, but he was afraid he would fall if he wasn’t leaning back on her.

We’re going to keep him overnight for observation,” the doctor continued. “If there aren’t any complications from the concussion, he should be able to go home tomorrow.”

“What about his memory?” Brian asked. “You said before he might not remember everything.” Brian hated himself for hoping it was true, but if Justin remembered…

He saw Justin buried under the rubble clutching a photograph and the guilt twisted his guts again.

Justin had found the photograph Brian hadn’t destroyed. He’d totally forgotten about it. The one of them fucking the first time. The one he’d saved for himself when he planned to send the rest to Craig.

Just before he was almost killed, Justin had discovered what Brian had done and the thought of Justin hating him for it was unbearable.

Please don’t let him remember, Brian begged silently as he crushed the crumpled photo in his pocket.

The doctor’s response was cut off by Jennifer Taylor’s arrival. “Brian! What happened? I trusted you to protect him,” she cried hoarsely.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Brian hissed at Lindsay.

“She’s his mother. I called her,” Lindsay replied, taking Jennifer’s arm. “This is Doctor Sweetland,” she told Jennifer. “He was just telling us Justin’s going to be fine.”

The doctor shook her hand. “Yes. He has a broken collarbone that’s been set and he lost consciousness briefly, but he’s awake now. We’ll keep him overnight, but he should go home tomorrow. Besides that, he’s only got a few cuts and bruises. He’s a very lucky young man.”

“Can I see him?” she asked.

“Ab “Brian!” Lindsay gasped in shock.

“I warned you,” he glowered at Jennifer. “You did this! What did you tell Craig? Did you two plan to run me down and just take Justin home?”

“What?” she paled, slumping into a chair. “Craig?”

“If you do not control yourself, Mr. Grassi, I will have security escort you out,” the doctor cut in. “Regardless of what Justin wants.”

Brian glared at him, but Lindsay interjected, “Did Justin say something?”

“He asked to see Mr. Grassi. You can see him for a few minutes after he’s settled in his room. After that, you ladies may see him as well, but only for a few minutes,” he stressed again.

"Thank you,” Lindsay said and the doctor left them alone.

Jennifer clutched Lindsay’s hand. “Please! Tell me what happened!”

Lindsay sat beside her, glancing warily at Brian. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything before, but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Craig tried to run Brian over and crashed into the pool house.” Jennifer shook her head questioningly and Lindsay clarified, “That’s where Brian lives since we’re not really married.” Jennifer nodded that she understood that and Lindsay continued. “Justin was inside and some of the falling structure hit him.” Jennifer started to cry and Lindsay squeezed her hand. “But he’s alright, you heard the doctor.”

“I didn’t know,” Jennifer sniffed, trying to regain her composure. “Craig—I told him I was leaving him. I didn’t know he would—oh god…”

Lindsay hugged her, meeting Brian’s gaze and he looked away.

“Where is he?” Jennifer asked after a moment. “Has he been… arrested?”

Brian nodded. The fucker didn’t weasel out of it this time, although he still got off easier than Justin. Again. “The EMTs checked him out at the house,” he replied bitterly, “but he was fine so they hauled him off to the drunk tank.”

“He was drunk?” Jennifer gasped.

“Jennifer!” a voice boomed down the quiet corridor.

Brian, Jennifer, and Lindsay looked up to see an elderly gentlemen storming down the hall.

Jennifer stood. “Dad,” she replied shakily. “What are you doing here?”

He stopped in front of her, barely giving Brian or Lindsay a glance as he towered over his daughter. “Craig called me. What the hell is going on here? I have to go to the police department to bail out my son because no one told me Justin ran away from home? How dare you embarrass us like this!”

“Craig is the one who got drunk and drove into a building, almost killing my son,” Jennifer replied hotly.

Brian was impressed by the sudden transformation. One minute she was a sniveling mouse and the next she was a dangerous lioness.

“He was protecting your son from a pervert,” her father roared. “One I understand you let have him!”

“Justin is old enough to make his own decisions,” Brian countered, stepping forward as Lindsay pulled Jennifer back from the irate man. “He didn’t run away. Craig threw him out for being gay.”

Jennifer’s father glared at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the pervert,” Brian replied coolly.

The tense stand-off was suddenly interrupted when a nurse timidly cleared her throat. “Mr. Grassi? You can see Justin now.”

Brian felt a wave of dread wash over him. The doctor hadn’t answered his question about Justin’s memory. Would he remember the picture?

Brian stared past the nurse toward the exit. He could just walk past her. Leave right now and never come back. Justin would certainly be better off if he did.

Brian was sure Justin would be alright with his mother now. She’d taken the first steps toward making things right and he believed she would carry it out. He couldn’t believe he suddenly respected her, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He was tired of dwelling on things for so long.

Justin’s grandfather clamped a hand on Brian’s shoulder as he tried to pass. “You will never touch my grandson again.” He turned to the nurse. “Call security. I want this man removed from the premises and arrested.”

“Sir--”

“Do it, or I’ll have your job!” he snapped.

“You have no right,” Jennifer shouted angrily. “Brian hasn’t done anything illegal. Craig is the one in jail! Where he belongs!”

“How dare you talk to me that way?” her father replied indignantly.

Jennifer squared her shoulders. “I’m surprised you even heard me. You’ve never listened to anything I’ve said before.”

“Listen here,” he stammered, his face reddening—if that was possible.

“No, you listen, dad. Brian is going to see Justin and we’re going to talk. About Craig and Brian and a lot of other things you don’t know about. Like Justin. And my daughter.”

Her father’s mouth gaped open and Brian took the opportunity to get by him. Lindsay grabbed his arm and kissed his cheek. “Give that to Justin for me.”

Jennifer squeezed his arm as well. “Tell him I’m here, please. And I’ll see him as soon as I can.”

Brian nodded and followed the nurse down the hall.

“This isn’t over,” Justin’s grandfather threatened as Brian turned the corner.

Hardly necessary since Brian fully understood it had really just begun.

The nurse pushed open the door to the room at the end of the hall and held it open for Brian, but he hesitated. “I, uh… what about his memory? Do you know--”

She smiled. “As far as we can tell, he hasn’t experienced any significant loss. He seems to remember everything up to losing consciousness. But we didn’t tell him much about the accident. We want to see if he remembers a little more on his own.”

Brian let out the breath he’d been holding. If Justin had asked to see him, he obviously didn’t remember the picture. It was probably discovered just before the crash and the memory was lost in the trauma.

Brian pushed anymore thoughts about it aside and focused on what was more important. He had to tell Justin his own father almost killed him. And why.

He wasn’t keeping anymore secrets from him.

***

“Brian,” Justin sighed with relief when he saw the other man. He tried to reach for him, but winced in pain from the break in his collarbone and the tight sling immobilizing it. His hand limply dropped to the bed. Brian saw his eyes cloud over as he bit his lip, obviously trying to stop himself from crying. Justin fidgeted on the bed, despite making things more uncomfortable for himself and Brian could hear his labored breathing and the beginning of a wheeze as Justin struggled to stay calm.

Jesus, the kid must’ve been terrified waking up in a hospital room with a bunch of strangers and nobody telling him anything. Brian put his hand over Justin’s to stop him from hurting himself anymore as he squirmed anxiously.

But he wasn’t holding it. Justin didn’t need to be coddled. No, Brian was just covering his hand, keeping him still.

“You’re okay,” Justin said, seemingly to himself. “They said there was an accident. I thought you--” his eyes closed for a moment and he laid his head back against the pillow. “I thought--” he tried again, brows furrowed. “You’re okay,” he repeated, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

Brian nodded, tentatively running his finger along the edge of a bandage on Justin’s cheek. “There was an accident,” he confirmed, his hand sliding around Justin’s neck to gently knead the tense muscles. “What do you remember?”

Justin looked at him questioningly. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” When Brian just raised an eyebrow he scowled. “I was talking to Lindsay and I realized it was almost six so I went back to the house to change,” he recited for what was probably the tenth time already. “I was looking for a scissors in the nightstand, to cut a string on my shirt, when I heard you pull up. And then I woke up here, but I didn’t know where you were. What happened?” he demanded. “They won’t tell me anything else!”

Brian struggled to keep his face impassive. Justin didn’t remember finding the photo in the nightstand. His stomach flipped when he realized he’d forgotten it was there and Justin could’ve found it any time. Christ. “It’s a good thing you didn’t find the scissors, or you might’ve been hurt worse,” he remarked off-handedly, watching Justin’s reaction. “You could’ve accidentally cut off your dick when you—when--” When your dad almost killed you.

But he couldn’t say it. Shit.

“There weren’t any scissors in the drawer, just papers and stuff,” Justin huffed impatiently. “You should clean it out and put things were they belong.”

Brian studied the boy’s face. Jesus. He really didn’t remember… or maybe he never actually looked at it? Could he have just been holding it, but didn’t notice it before—

“Brian, what happened?” Justin prodded.

“A car… crashed into the pool house,” Brian finally replied. “When you were inside. The roof collapsed and you were trapped underneath.”

Justin’s mouth gaped open. “A car? Your car?”

“No, it was… your dad. He must’ve been waiting for me to get home and tried to run me down. He lost control and crashed. I’m sure he never thought you would be inside.”

Justin paled as his mouth twisted in horror. “Dad?”

Misinterpreting Justin’s shock, Brian squeezed his hand. “He’s alright, Justin. Everyone’s fine.”

“He tried to kill you!” Justin cried, shaking as he clung tighter to Brian, “Because of me! It’s my fault!”

Brian shook his head. Always the drama princess thinking the world revolved around him.

Okay, so this time he was right.

“No,” he said pointedly, “it’s not your fault. None of it was ever your fault.”

“But I--”

“Justin, your dad and I have more history between us than just you and I. That’s what this is really about.”

Justin shifted to watch Brian more closely as he started to pace, but the pain made him gasp and Brian took his hand again. “Jesus, stop doing that,” he reprimanded.

“Tell me--”

But Brian shook his head again. “Tomorrow,” he decided aloud. “You need to re--”

“I can’t rest!”

Brian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a twat. It can wait until tomorrow. Trust, me another day won’t matter.” He awkwardly patted Justin’s leg, not wanting to hurt any bruises and not wanting to tempt himself into staying longer if he touched him anymore. “I’m going to go and--”

“No, don’t go,” Justin pleaded.

“Just--”

“They won’t let me sleep,” he argued, “because of the concussion. Please stay. Tell me what’s going on.”

But Brian still couldn’t do it. The kid had been roughed up enough for one night. “Your mom’s here,” he told Justin. “She wants to see you. And I’m sure she’ll want to stay with you.”

“Mom?” Justin echoed. Brian detected a note of hope, yet wariness, in his voice. “I-I want to see her,” Justin admitted, “but I don’t want her to stay.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need her,” Justin replied defiantly, clearly missing the irony of clinging to Brian as he said it. “I’m not a child.”

But he was, Brian knew, and he felt his guts twist again for what he’d done to this innocent kid. Jesus, those pictures alone were unforgivable.

“Everyone needs a mother,” Brian said before he could stop himself.

“You didn’t. You went to live with Vic when your parents kicked you out.”

“I had-- ” Someone else. He loved Debbie like the mom he never had growing up. But Justin didn’t need a surrogate when he had his own mother and she loved him enough to put him first.

“I have to go,” Brian said abruptly. “Your mom will be in a minute.”

“Brian, wait! I can go home tomorrow, right?”

Brian paused and nodded.

“But where are we going to stay? The pool--”

“You’re going home with your mom. Where you belong.”

“No! Brian--”

But the door shut behind Brian and he ignored Justin’s pleas as he hurried down the hall. He saw Jennifer heading toward him and he pointed back to Justin’s room. “He’s waiting for you,” he said as he kept walking. “Where’s Lindsay?”

“Outside. She wanted to call the sitter.”

He nodded and said, “Good night, Jennifer,” as he headed for the elevators.

“Brian, wait,” she called as she followed him.

He stopped and glared at her. “What?”

She wrung her hands nervously, but didn’t back down from his gaze. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for Justin, but I think--”

“I didn’t do anything for Justin,” he cut in angrily, letting the mask drop. By her startled step backward he realized it would be easier than he thought to cut their ties. “It was for me. I wanted your asshole husband to pay for what he did so I plotted for a long time and then Justin literally fell into my lap. Making him love me was almost too easy. He really is a sweet kid.” He calmly thumbed the button for the elevator and turned back to her. “And just as I predicted, Craig couldn’t handle it so the fucker is going to rot in prison for trying to kill me.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he waited for the elevator doors to open. “It’s too late for Vic and Michael, but better late than never I guess. Your husband should’ve been in prison years ago and I’ve been planning to put him there ever since that night.” He sneered at her shocked face and added, “Fucking Justin was just the cherry on top. Pardon the expression.”

He didn’t see her hand come up to slap him, but he wasn’t surprised when he felt the sting. He just stepped back into the open elevator and waved as the doors closed.

Brian walked outside and leaned against the building as he lit a cigarette and watched Lindsay pace a few feet away as she talked on her cell phone. He let the first drag push the remaining pain away and then started toward his friend.

Shit. She’d never let him hear the end of it when he told her Jennifer was taking Justin home again. Fucking maternal bullshit, blah, blah, blah.

He took another long drag and eyed the cigarette with annoyance. He definitely needed something stronger and he wondered if Anita would be at Babylon yet.

He waved to Lindsay and headed to the car. He could hear her heels clicking across the cement as she hurried to catch up with him and he steeled himself for her interrogation on the way home.

But first…

Pulling out the photo in his pocket, he used his lighter to burn it and left the ashes smoldering in the parking lot.

***

Brian rolled over and felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He remembered fucking the dark-haired, olive-skinned trick in the parking lot, but he didn’t think he’d brought him home. Brian was about to tell him to take a hike when he realized the lithe body pressed against his back was shorter than he remembered, one knobby knee pressing against the back of his thighs. Brian shifted and saw the arm anchoring him had pale skin and fine golden hair. He felt warm lips brush against the back of his neck, gently pulling at the shortest hairs along the nape and making his dick leap like a marionette. Twisting further, he held his breath until he could see the tousled blond hair out of the corner of his eye.

“Justin,” rushed from his lips before he could stop himself. He didn’t care how the kid got there, he was just—

“Jonah,” the trick corrected him, his green eyes coming into focus as he hovered over Brian. “How hard is that to fucking remember?” he huffed.

Brian scowled at him, the disappointment rising like bile in his throat. He pushed the kid away and sat up. The room teetered a bit and he hung his head in his hands to stop the throbbing that suddenly threatened to make his head explode.

He stared down at the ratty beige carpet under his feet and then his eyes settled on the red and green pattern of the bedspread with its gold fringe. Jesus, where the fuck was he? He glanced around again and saw the keycard on the nightstand. He recognized the hotel crest and realized he must've stumbled into the dive down the street from Babylon.

The trick scrambled behind him, pressed to his back again. “It’s not that big a deal, call me anything you want,” he offered, kissing Brian’s neck again. “Just fuck--”

“Fuck off,” Brian growled, shoving him away again.

The kid bounced to the end of the mattress, but quickly upended himself and sat with his legs tucked underneath. He cocked his head to the side, lips pursed in annoyance. “I thought you liked that. You said--”

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Brian snarled with a piercing glare.

The green eyes flashed back like sharp emeralds and Brian had to look away from the brightness. “You said I could stay. You said--”

“Alright,” Brian snapped. Clearly, he’d said a lot of shit he couldn’t remember.

Clearly, he’d lost his fucking mind if he went trolling for chicken just to—Jesus, he was a fucking pervert.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, standing on shaky legs as he searched for his pants. “I’ll take you home.”

***

Brian let himself into the quiet house, grateful Lindsay was out. Things had been extremely volatile between them since Brian had pushed Justin away. It was definitely enough to make him consider scrapping the pool house remodeling all together and just moving into a loft downtown.

Except he liked being close to Gus. Which was why he let Lindsay talk him into staying in the guest room while the pool house was being repaired in the first place. At the time it had seemed like a logical solution. But now he barely came home except to change clothes between rotations of work, going out fucking, and back to work again.

And he definitely needed to change now. It had been two days since he’d last been home. He’d stormed out of the house Friday night and hadn’t returned since after Lindsay left the article of Craig Taylor’s plea bargain on the kitchen table.

Fucking cunt.

He let himself into the house and headed for the shower. As soon as he cleaned up, he would pack a bag and move into a nicer hotel, close to the office, while he decided what to do about a permanent place to live.

But first, he detoured to the liquor cabinet.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" a voice behind him asked.

He turned to see Debbie standing in the hall. She looked him over as she crossed the room and took the glass from him with a disgusted grunt. "Or too late, from the look of you."

"What are you doing here?" he grumbled, snatching the glass back and taking a large gulp. Although if he wanted to guess, he’d say the cunt called her. God dammit.

Debbie didn’t need this shit. Yes, once the dust settled and he had something to tell her, like Craig Taylor was going to spend the rest of his life bent over as some other con’s bitch, he was going to let her know he’d finally done it. The bastard was paying his pound of flesh… over and over. But until then, he didn’t want to dredge the pain up again. He’d never do that to her.

"What? I need a reason to come see you kids?" she snapped.

Brian arched an eyebrow. Did she really fucking think he’d buy that one? "Yes. You haven't come back to the Pitts since Gus was born." He refilled his glass and pushed past her.

Debbie grabbed his arm, her talon-like nails digging into his skin. He knew better than to try and get away until she was ready to let go, he’d seemed to molt off layers and layers of skin on demand from her like that over the years, so he stood still, glowering at her in defiance instead.

"You know I didn't want to be anywhere near here," she replied flatly. "But I didn't realize you'd be getting yourself into such a mess without anyone here to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

“What mess?” he sneered. “I’m beautiful.”

“Not right now you ain’t, kid. You’re a fucking mess. I haven’t seen you this bad since Mic--”

His hand flew up and lightly touched her lips. Yeah, he could think it. Plot to avenge it. Live with it. Fucking smother in it. But he could never say it out loud to her. Never. “Don’t,” he pleaded gruffly. “Just… go home, Deb.”

“The fuck I will,” she sighed squeezing his hand. She pulled him back to the sofa and pushed him down before sitting beside him. “It’s not healthy for you to be still hanging onto him like this,” she said finally.

Brian pulled his hand from hers and stared at the wall across the room. If she wanted to talk, he’d let her. “I let them both go a long time ago,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb the delicate balance he’d been keeping inside himself for so long. She understood that right? “But he had to pay.”

“What about you? You paid enough yet?” Debbie’s voice crackled in his ear.

Brian squeezed the glass in his hand tighter. The sharp pain in his knuckles did nothing to divert the pain in his chest, the deep bitter ache that seemed to swell and crack everything inside as it expanded more and more, but he focused on it anyway. Just the sweet throbbing in his hand was all he could feel… outside where it didn’t hurt as much. “It’s never going to be enough,” he heard himself say. “There’s no way I can--”

“Stop it,” she barked, slapping his cheek. “Get down off the damn cross already. It’s been twelve years and you’re stinking up the place like a rotting corpse. But I got news for you, honey. Vic and Michael, god bless ‘em, aren’t appreciating your sacrifice anymore than I am. They loved you as much as you loved them, but they’re dead and you’re not. Not if what Lindsay says is true.”

Fucking Lindsay. Burning anger was misdirected at Debbie as he glared at her. “Which is?” he seethed.

She took hold of his chin and stared at him right back. “You’re in love with that boy. Justin.”

Brian shook his head loose and leaned back against the sofa, trying to show some illusion of calm, despite the sudden reversal of shifting organs in his chest. The pain he thought couldn’t get any worse was now a vice, squeezing the life out of him. He took another drink of the whiskey, letting it burn into his gut and set fire to everything. Set it all free. When the glass moved away from his mouth, his face was a blank mask again. “He’s sweet,” he said coldly. “But he served his purpose. You of all people should understand. He’s Craig Taylor’s son, for Christ’s sake. End of story.”

“Bullshit,” she snorted. “You make him sound like the spawn of Satan instead of some poor kid with shit luck when the parent lottery was on. Something you should understand.”

“Deb,” he warned. Jesus, why didn’t she just pour the salt right over him now and finish him off?

“So is that why you’re acting like some lovesick Romeo who just lost his Juliet?” she asked, ignoring his cautioning tone. “You think you have to martyr yourself because he’s the son of your sworn enemy?”

“Christ, woman,” he huffed. “Would you just--”

“Like I said, you haven’t been this bad since Michael died,” she continued. “Drinking yourself into a stupor, fucking everything that moves, disappearing for days on end and doing god only knows what else to yourself.” He started to interrupt again, but she jabbed a finger at him and his mouth snapped shut. She softened her tone and patted his leg. “Honey, I know you loved Michael. I don’t know if you boys would’ve ever made it together, but I do know that since he died you haven’t given yourself the chance to love anyone else. To be happy.”

“But, Deb,” he scoffed, his mouth gratefully taking over out of habit when his brain shut down. As soon as she said his name, he couldn’t think. “I’m deliriously fucking happy. It’s all a dream come true. I’m married with a kid. I live in the ‘burbs. Tomorrow we’re getting a dog and adding the white picket fence. What more could a fag ask for?”

“A hot twink with a perfect bubble butt?”

Okay, so he couldn’t help laughing at that. It ripped right out of him, dark and hoarse. She fucking knew him better than anyone. Even now.

“But not that twink,” he replied somberly after a moment. Trying to gather his thoughts again. She had to understand. Maybe if she did, Lindsay would back off. Maybe they would leave him in peace. Leave him with the Jonahs in his bed at night. Not much different… just not the same. “Justin… he’s just a kid and he’s already been through so much shit because of his dad… and me. He needs to be with someone--”

“He loves,” Deb finished for him. “He loves you.”

Brian was not going to listen to that shit. What the fuck did he know about love? He was fucking seventeen years old. He stood suddenly, moving to refill his glass. “He’ll get over it,” he said over his shoulder, the fear hidden from her.

“You didn’t. You may think he’s just a kid,” she said, reading his mind and he instinctively rubbed his temple to drive her out again, “but he’s the same age you were wh--”

“Stop… god, just…” Brian felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest and had to clutch the cabinet to catch his breath.

“Don't make him go through the same pain you did. He doesn't have to. I don't know if it'll last, but I know you'll both regret it for the rest of your lives if you don't try,” she said. She was standing beside him again. “Give him the chance Michael never had, to be with you. Let him love you." She patted his cheek and added, "No more regrets.”

Bian didn’t respond. He couldn’t after the blood rushed to his head and seemed to be drowning him, constricting his air, flooding through his ears and behind is eyes as the walls closed in around him. He stood staring blankly into space with her words stuck in his head, looping around and around, long after she’d left the room.

Gus found him there when Lindsay brought him back from the park.

“You called her,” he said dryly, licking his lips as he looked at the bottle of Beam, but he didn’t want it anymore. He picked Gus up instead and held him tightly to his chest.

Lindsay tentatively moved closer, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “I didn’t know where you were. You wouldn’t talk to me. I’m sorry, Brian, I just--”

Brian reached out and pulled her closer, kissing her softly on the lips. “I know.”

Debbie appeared again and cuffed him lightly behind the head before taking Gus and setting him on the floor. “Too big now,” she muttered. She took his hand instead. “Come on, baby, you can help grandma make the lasagna. And you,” she sniffed at Brian, “if you’re going to come back to the land of the living, go take a shower and wash that dead stink off, would ya?”

He nodded and contritely replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

***

EPILOGUE

one year later…

Brian pulled up to the front of the school and parked in plain view of the front doors. A moment later the bell rang and after a few seconds the kids poured outside. It was the last day of the year so there was an electricity buzzing around them, especially the seniors.

Despite the noise and bodies flowing around him, Brian carefully watched for the blond mop of the boy—no, man—he was going to take home with him.

Finally.

Justin was eighteen now and had just finished high school. Jennifer had given her blessing and packed Justin’s things and Craig Taylor couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

Not that he hadn’t tried. When Brian tried to make-up with Justin, Craig thought he finally had a way to hurt Brian back, especially since he still had Jennifer’s parents wrapped around his finger. Despite knowing what an asshole their son-in-law really was, they still chose him over the disgrace of a messy divorce.

So even though Jennifer had left him, she even got a restraining order, he was still threatening to fight her for custody of Justin if she let Brian near him. Despite pleading guilty in exchange for probation on the charges against him, he still thought a court would side with him because he’d attacked Brian for molesting his son.

And given the homophobia obviously rampant in the system, they only gave him probation for Christ’s sake, Brian was afraid Craig would win if they pushed him. But Jennifer pushed back anyway. She swore she would drag them all through the mud with every dirty secret if Craig and her parents didn’t leave Justin alone. They did back down, but Brian still kept his distance for the most part, in case they tried anything else.

Jennifer was granted a quiet divorce and Craig kept the company. Outwardly things appeared to be the same and there was hardly a ripple in the social circles regarding their separation. If Brian had really cared anymore, he would’ve been furious.

He would’ve considered it a failure. But it didn’t matter anymore.

Justin stayed with his mom and quickly matured into a confident young man. By the time his eighteenth birthday approached, he’d already been accepted to PIFA and made it public knowledge he would be moving back into the pool house with Brian. His lover.

Though Brian had long since purged himself of the rage he’d felt for Craig, he couldn’t help laughing when he imagined the look on Craig Taylor’s face when he heard the news.

As the crowd thinned, Brian got out of the jeep and leaned against the hood, anxiously lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag to calm his nerves. It wasn’t that he was unsure of his decision, but Justin’s reaction--

“Brian?”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” Justin asked cautiously.

Brian took another drag. “Need a ride home?”

Justin’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Sure.”

Brian pulled the backpack off of Justin’s shoulder and opened the door.

Justin didn’t move though. “But what are you doing here?” he asked again. “I thought you were in New York. Did you get the account?”

Brian tossed the backpack into the back seat and he smiled as Justin’s eyes followed the bag and then grew wide as saucers. “I lied,” Brian replied simply.

Justin tore his eyes away from the other boxes and bags stuffed in the backseat, his books and clothes and art supplies—his life—packed into the back of the jeep, and repeated, “You lied.”

Brian noticed the color of his eyes darkening and since they weren’t fucking that wasn’t a good sign. He knew Justin was going to be a shit about it. Rigid little fucker. Though everyone else thought it was good for him, that Justin kept him in line.

Whatever.

“Justin,” he growled, quickly losing patience. He didn’t make such grand gestures very often because of shit like this. He most certainly was not going to let Justin cause a scene in front of all his friends in the damn parking lot.

“You promised!” Justin seethed. “No more lies. No more--”

“This isn’t the same thing,” Brian shot back. “It’s a surprise. I thought you fucking liked surprises!”

“Not yours,” Justin snapped. “Yours end up with cars in the fucking house!”

He just was not going to let that go. Fuck!

“Justin, I thought we were past this,” Brian said, feigning more control than he was feeling. “I thought this was what you wanted,” he jabbed a finger at the backseat. “But if you’re not ready--”

“Oh!” Justin jabbed his own finger into Brian’s chest. “Don’t give me that shit! I’m not some stupid seventeen year old anymore. You can’t manipulate me like that again.”

Christ, he may be a man now but he was still a fucking drama queen.

“I just meant,” Brian hissed, twisting his finger around Justin’s to stop the fucker from bruising his chest, “if you can’t tell the difference between a real lie and a surprise, we are in deep shit trouble.”

“No, you’re in deep shit trouble,” Justin replied as he slid into the jeep and slammed the door.

“Fuck,” Brian muttered as he walked around and let himself in.

“Justin--”

“So you weren’t really in New York?”

“No. I wanted a few days to arrange things.”

“So you let me think you were going to miss my graduation because of work.”

“But I’m not,” Brian reasoned. “I wouldn’t do that--”

“But I didn’t know that,” Justin huffed. “Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How my grandfather had a fucking field day thinking you abandoned me on the most important day of my life?”

“Who gives a fuck what he thinks?” Brian snorted. “How the fuck did he even know?”

Though Brian knew, Jennifer had called to warn him, he wanted to hear what Justin had to say. Jennifer hadn’t told him Justin was this upset.

“He came to the house yesterday and overheard mom and I arguing about you being gone. He said he just wanted to tell me he wouldn’t pay for school if I insisted on seeing you. He was even going to generously let me still attend PIFA, but I had to stop seeing you. But now that you’d really shown your true colors, it was a moot point. He was happy to see I wouldn’t be throwing my life away after all and he’d send the check to the Bursar’s office immediately.”

“And you said?”

“I told him to shove it up his ass.”

Brian grinned at him. “Good boy.”

“That’s not the point,” Justin scowled.

Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Brian took hold of Justin’s chin and turned him so they were facing each other. He wanted Justin to know he was serious now. “Then what is the point?”

“They’re still treating me like a fucking pawn. I’m not a person, I’m a thing to be controlled. It wasn’t about the money, Christ, he thinks I’m stupid! I know my tuition was part of the divorce settlement so it’s already paid for. It was about keeping me and mom under his thumb, about trying to drive a wedge between you and me. And I know dad put him up to it. As part of this vengeance thing he has against you. Why the fuck is he doing this? Why can’t you two just stop?” he yelled. “I’m not your fucking pawn!”

Brian figured he had that coming so he let it slide. All things considered, Justin had accepted the truth about his father and Brian pretty well. And Brian had told him everything, well, almost everything, so Justin was allowed to lash out a bit since he was still working through it all.

Brian’s hand slid around Justin’s neck, squeezing gently. “Justin, you can’t control other people. Believe me, I know. You and I are going to live our lives and he’s going to do whatever the fuck he’s going to do.”

Justin continued to glare at him, but Brian saw his jaw twitch a little, meaning he was caving.

“Now,” Brian asked, pulling his keys from his pocket, “are we going to go home and unpack your shit, or what?”

***

They were only able to unpack the immediate necessities before Jennifer and Melanie arrived at the house for the celebration dinner.

Lindsay and Debbie had been cooking all day so Jennifer and Melanie took over while they rested with a glass of wine. Brian was in charge of the grill and started the coals while Justin and Gus swam in the pool.

As Jennifer brought the steaks out, Brian saw Lindsay head into the house where Melanie was alone and he rolled his eyes at Jennifer. “You had to get a dyke lawyer,” he muttered and she laughed.

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time, and Lindsay really likes her too. In fact Mel’s a lot like you, I can see why they hit it off.”

“Don’t blow smoke up my ass, woman, she’s a--”

“Daddy!” Gus squealed, “Watch me!”

All eyes turned to the pool as Gus jumped off the side into Justin’s waiting arms.

Debbie appeared at the grill as well and handed Brian a spatula. “Sunshine’s good with him. He’s a good kid.”

Jennifer smiled proudly and Brian knew she was relieved Debbie was comfortable around them. Their first meeting that past Christmas had been a little tense, but as soon as Debbie had seen Justin she couldn’t stop pinching his cheeks, the ones on his face either, and dubbed him ‘Sunshine’.

Brian couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her so happy. She’d been back to Pittsburgh more in the last six months than she had been since Michael died and Brian wondered if he could eventually talk her into just moving back.

***

After dinner, Brian tucked Gus into bed and realized Justin had disappeared when he returned outside.

“I think the other one’s ready for bed too,” Melanie snickered.

“Mel,” Lindsay chastised as Jennifer looked away. “He’s just excited about the skylight Brian had put in. I saw him unload his easel and some pads. I think he’s going to be sketching all day tomorrow,” she warned. “The new light is going to make everything look different.”

“Great,” Brian replied with mixed feelings. He was glad Justin liked his new space, at least Justin had forgiven him for lying about New York while the renovations were done, but he wanted to fuck all day tomorrow.

Though they’d technically been ‘together’ over the last year, there hadn’t been a lot of sleepovers. Brian was definitely ready to make up for some lost time that phone sex or the occasional trick hadn’t been able to fill.

He left the women outside to finish off the wine and talk about whatever the fuck the last episode of ‘The View’ was about while he hunted down his missing boyfriend.

Sure enough, he found Justin unpacking his art supplies.

He grinned sheepishly. “I just wanted to--”

Brian grabbed Justin around the waist and pulled him tight against his chest. “I want to fuck.”

***

“Brian…” Justin’s fingers clenched in his hair as he rode out the initial pain.

Brian pushed deeper, feeling Justin’s slick calves slide down his back until they were just inches apart and he could see the strain on Justin’s face. His thighs were pressed tight against his chest and his ass probably throbbed from the rough penetration. Brian hadn’t exactly been patient, but as Justin’s eyes clouded over, the discomfort giving way to the pleasure, Brian knew he didn’t exactly mind.

Brian withdrew a little and slid back in, his head dropping to Justin’s chest and Justin’s arms and legs and ass squeezed him tighter. Brian inhaled and did it again, exhaling as Justin convulsed around him once more. Christ, it was a perfect, easy rhythm. In and out…

His lips were sliding back and forth across Justin’s damp skin… everything moving together… when he felt the scar along his collarbone.

Justin’s eyes slowly opened when Brian stopped moving and he saw Brian staring down at him. “Brian?”

Brian kissed the faded pink line and then moved to the other side where the bump from the more recent break protruded slightly.

If Brian thought the pain he’d endured because of Craig for so many years was bad, he couldn’t imagine what it was like to have to look at his dad’s hate marking his skin everyday like Justin did.

Brian looked at Justin, staring back at him in confusion and he suddenly realized Justin didn’t see it that way at all. He didn’t even know what Brian was looking at.

He would’ve considered it a failure. But it didn’t matter anymore.

Brian didn’t look at it again and instead kissed Justin’s lips, his eyes, his ear, and Justin arched beneath him urging him to just fucking move already.

***

Brian rolled over and felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He felt a lithe body pressed against his back, one knobby knee poking the back of his thighs. Brian shifted and saw the arm anchoring him had pale skin and fine golden hair. He felt warm lips brush against the back of his neck, gently pulling at the shortest hairs along the nape and making his dick leap like a marionette. Twisting further, he held his breath until he could see the tousled blond hair out of the corner of his eye.

Bright blue eyes blinked back at him before Brian buried his head back under the pillow-- the fucking sunshine was blinding him.