Kinney Have Your Heart, pt. 1

Justin kept thinking he needed to stop the older man as Brian unbuttoned his shirt, but the man’s tongue was still tangled around his making speech impossible. The blonde buried his fingers in the detective’s hair intending to pull his head away, but they disobeyed and held him tighter. Finally, Brian released his mouth and Justin gasped for breath, his protests on the tip of his tongue then, but all that came out was a moan as the older man’s lips closed around his adam’s apple.

Brian felt the vibration against his lips and it resonated straight to his cock. He continued lower, licking and nipping his way down the artist’s neck until he reached the hollow of his throat. There he could feel Justin’s pulse racing just beneath the surface. Brian pushed the blonde’s shirt away from his shoulder and buried his nose in the warm crook of his neck, inhaling the soft scent of vanilla that had been teasing him since that first day.


Christ. The detective never heard anything hotter than this kid purring his name. He reached up to unwrap Justin’s arms from around his neck and pulled away slightly so he could take the blonde’s shirt off. Brian looked to the younger man for permission and froze.

Justin’s eyes fluttered open when he realized Brian had stopped moving, stopped touching him except for holding his hands. When his gaze focused, he saw the older man staring at him. "What?" he asked nervously, barely a whisper.

"Now I know why Debbie calls you Angel."

Justin blinked at him, then lowered his eyes as he blushed.

The demure posturing only made him look more ethereal to the older man. Brian kissed his temple and led him to the bed, but the blonde hesitated. The detective sat down on the mattress. "I can’t read your mind, Justin. Tell me what you want."

"I-I…don’t know." But that wasn’t true. He knew what he wanted, but he couldn’t have it. There was no way to turn back time and be with Brian a year earlier, before he was injured.

"Come here." Brian took his hand and pulled the younger man so he was standing between his legs. If Justin wouldn’t talk to him, he’d just keep doing what he had been until the blonde stopped him. He put his hands on the artist’s hips and felt him tremble. Justin’s hands flew up to Brian’s shoulders to steady himself. The detective pulled the younger man’s shirt out of his pants and pushed it up over his belly, leaning forward to kiss the exposed skin. Justin ran his fingers through Brian’s hair again, and the older man finally worked the shirt off.

Justin keened when Brian’s teeth nipped his navel. Then his tongue flicked out to sooth the sting. He felt Brian lean back and instinctively followed him to keep those soft lips pressed against his skin. Brian’s left hand guided his left knee to the bed and the detective’s right hand settled between his shoulder blades as he deftly flipped the younger man onto his back and lay him on the bed underneath his larger body. "Okay?" Brian asked him, his hand resting on the artist’s right thigh, making sure he wasn’t in pain. The stunned blonde could only nod.

"Good," Brian murmured as he leaned in and kissed Justin again. He trailed kisses over his jaw and neck, moving lower to his chest. The older man sucked a hardened nipple into his mouth and Justin moaned. He moved over and lapped at the other erect bud until the blonde was writhing beneath him. Brian’s hand moved lower to Justin’s belt and the artist’s hand suddenly covered his. The detective looked up at the younger man and waited.

"Brian…" He wanted to…but he couldn’t let him see. He couldn’t do this. Brian would be… disappointed.

The older man moved his hand back up to the artist’s cheek and turned his head to look at him. "What’s wrong?"

Justin looked at the warm hazel eyes and felt his insides melt. Fuck, he was so damn gorgeous. It would be worth it…even if it was just once…Justin sat up on his elbows, pushing Brian away slightly. He needed space to breath. To think. "I just…can’t," he finally said. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... lead you on." A memory of a similar discussion flashed in the artist’s head and he tried to push it away.

"You can’t do this to me," Eric replied.

Justin cringed and tried to squirm away from the other man.

"Justin?" Brian grabbed his arm, confused by the sudden reaction. What had he done to make the blonde think he’d be such an asshole? "I’m not a teenager. I’m not going to sulk because you’re not ready."

Before either of them could say anything else, the phone rang. Brian appeared to be ignoring it, but it was just the distraction Justin wanted. "You better answer that," he told the other man. Before Brian could argue he added, "It might be important."

Brian rolled over and grabbed the phone, hardly surprised when Justin got up and gathered his things. "What?" he barked, knowing exactly who it was.

No reply.


The blonde froze.

"Hello?" When still no one answered the detective growled, "Fuck off, asshole," and slammed the phone down making the artist jump.

Justin’s mind screamed. It couldn’t be… how could he have found him here?

"Justin." Brian’s voice was soft again. The detective didn’t want him to leave like this. He touched the other man’s shoulder and the blonde was shaking like a leaf. Was it because of him? Or was it something else? He turned the younger man around and struggled not to react when he saw how pale Justin had become.

"He’s trying to…he’ll just keep…"

Justin’s voice was so low Brian could hardly hear him, but he knew Justin had put it together as well and he cursed his friend again. "He’s just being a prick. Ignore him." He tipped the blonde’s chin up. "If you don’t want to be with me because you don’t want me, then I’ll accept that. But don’t listen to anything Michael said before. He’s just being…Michael."

The blonde laughed suddenly. "Michael?" Although Brian didn’t see the humor, Justin continued to laugh rather harshly. "I thought it was…I just…" The artist’s eyes filled with tears as he doubled over holding his sides, hysterical laughter filling the room.

Brian wondered what the punch line was. "Were you expecting someone else?"

The blonde just nodded. He leaned against the table to steady himself as he continued to laugh at… at how ridiculous it all seemed. He couldn’t stop. He was sure he was going insane. Brian would be easily convinced.

The detective rolled his tongue in his cheek when the other man nodded. What the fuck was going on? He went to the closet and rummaged in his coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He crossed the room again and flung the window open before lighting up and taking a deep drag to wait out whatever the hell was possessing the kid.

Finally, Justin calmed, straightening up and wiping his eyes. The cold wind from the open window made him shiver so he put his jacket on over his naked torso and limped over to Brian. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to the cigarette.

The older man handed it to him and watched as the artist took several drags before handing it back. Brian closed the window to just a crack for the remaining smoke to clear out as he stabbed the butt out on the windowsill, flicking it to the sidewalk. "You want to tell me what that was about?" he finally asked.

The blonde held up his hands and shrugged, smiling sadly. Christ, how was he going to explain he thought his last lover was a heavy breathing phone stalker? It was one thing to think he was calling him at home or at work. But to track him down in another man’s hotel room was…not possible.

Brian watched the artist’s emotions cross over his face knowing there was something really big the younger man wasn’t telling him and he needed to know before they would get any further. "I’m listening."

Justin looked at the floor and took a deep breath. He had nothing more to lose now. "It’s been a year since…the accident. Monday is the anniversary of my first-- and only to date--show at the gallery. That was the night I broke up with my last boyfriend. Andhehitmewithhiscar."

Brian stared at him. "Did you just say he was driving the car that hit you?"

The blonde continued to avoid his gaze as he nodded. "I guess I’ve just been paranoid the last few days. Thinking he’s calling me, I’ve gotten a couple of wrong numbers at home and…I don’t know, I just—it’s stupid. I even thought that was him just now. That he was following me. Guess they should’ve locked me in the psych ward while they had me in the hospital, huh?"

But something in Brian’s gut told him it wasn’t in Justin’s head. "Where is he now?"

Justin shrugged. "Europe I guess. His troupe--"

"What? He’s not in prison for running you down?"

The artist’s head snapped up. "No."

"Why the fuck not?" Christ, no wonder the kid thought he was being stalked.

"He got a ticket for driving too fast for conditions. The officer on the scene said the ice was to blame. So Eric paid his fine and went back to Paris."

"That’s bullshit," Brian replied incredulously.

Justin suddenly stiffened. He didn’t need someone else judging him. "Fuck you," he snarled and turned to the door. He heard Brian step behind him and whirled around, his cane raised.

The older man blocked his swing, and yanked it from his hand. The blonde cowered against the wall when Brian flung the cane across the room and turned on him, red-faced and eyes blazing. "You swing that thing at me again, and I’ll knock you on your ass, bad leg or not. Understand?"

Despite his fear, Justin raised his chin defiantly, jaw clenched and glared back at the man.

"Stubborn twat," Brian mumbled as he picked the artist up and carried him over to the bed. Justin knew better than to fight him and held his breath, waiting for the pain in his leg, but the detective was careful not to hook his arm under the other man’s knees. He kept his forearm under Justin’s ass so he was almost sitting as they moved. When the blonde was settled against the pillows, Brian grabbed the champagne glasses and sat next to him. Justin look a long swallow, almost draining his glass and the other man refilled it. "Now do you want to tell me what that little tantrum was about?"

When Justin still didn’t answer, the detective lifted his chin. "Why didn’t you press charges?" He was grasping at straws, but he couldn’t believe no one did anything besides give the guy a ticket…although it wasn’t unheard of. He remembered a gay kid who got hit in the head with a baseball bat at his prom the year before and his attacker, a former lover, got probation. Some days he just wanted to quit his job and run one of the restaurants for Vic.

Justin jerked out of Brian’s grasp and leaned back against the headboard, sipping more of the champagne. It had been ages since he had any alcohol so it was going straight to his head. He’d take anything to calm his nerves. "I didn’t think he did it on purpose," he finally replied. "I couldn’t. He said he…loved me. He was devastated when I broke it off. But things weren’t working out. That was part of why I agreed to come back for Emmett. I needed to be somewhere else for a while. And it was too hard, being in the hospital for so long. I couldn’t face it. Emmett already felt so guilty. He suspected…and he thought it was his fault. I was just relieved when Eric left."


Justin looked at him blankly.

Brian took away the glass of champagne when he saw how dilated the blonde’s pupils had become. That hadn’t been such a good idea, the kid was probably doped to the gills as it was. Smooth, Detective, give him alcohol and let him O.D. "What changed?" he clarified. "You think he did it on purpose now, don’t you?"

The blonde shrugged and rolled onto his side to get more comfortable. "He called me from the airport before his flight back. He was drunk. I tried to forget about it, but I just…he said it hadn’t worked out like he planned, but now no one else would want me and that was good enough for him. At first, I thought he meant it hadn’t worked out with me going back with him, but after a while I wondered if he meant that he intended to kill me, but crippling me was sufficient revenge."

Brian rubbed a hand over his face and blew out a breath. No wonder the kid was skittish. He watched Justin snuggle down further and realized despite a hundred other questions he wanted to ask, he wasn’t going to get anymore answers tonight. Or anything else for that matter. Which was fine. He wasn’t just looking for a fuck. He was surprised by how much he cared for this kid. If he were honest, he’d admit he had from the first day. And he would do whatever it took to get close to him. To keep him close. It had been a long time since he wanted to actually hold someone in bed…The detective made progress, and that was something. He was surprised Justin opened up as much as he did. "Look, it’s getting late. We should probably get some sleep. We’re expected at ten for brunch." While he talked, he stood and removed his shirt and shoes. He walked around the bed and picked up Justin’s cane from the corner, leaning it against the nightstand so the artist could reach it.

Justin watched him moving around and wondered if he was supposed to go stay or go to his own room. Maybe…he gasped suddenly when Brian turned to him.

The detective knew immediately what he was looking at. "What?" he feigned confusion. "My appendix scar? I know it’s not pretty, but--"

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…to stare." Justin tore his eyes away and sat up. He should definitely go to his own room. He didn’t think this night could possibly get any worse.

Brian sat next to him, leaning on his elbow over the younger man’s legs, blocking his escape. Justin again found himself staring at the wide jagged scar that started under the man’s left arm, arcing across his ribs, and ending in an ugly starburst an inch above his navel. "You can stare. You can touch it. You can ask anything you want about it, Justin. It’s probably the worst one I have, but it’s not the only one. And I’m sure I’ll have a few more before I’m done. But that’s life. It sucks. Just like your accident. But you’re alive and you can walk. You’re one lucky kid. And I got lucky that fucker didn’t stick me any deeper or a few inches to the left or I would’ve been dead. So, I figure we’re both doing alright. And we’d make quite a pretty pair of beach bunnies don’t you think?"

Justin snorted, smiling despite himself. "If you like the Frankenstein look." His face grew somber as he reached out and put his hand on Brian’s chest. He didn’t touch the scar, but felt the older man’s steady heart beat under his palm. For some reason, it reassured him. "What happened?"

"It was my first year as a patrolman and we answered a domestic abuse call. When we got there the woman who called was alone. We were talking to her when her crazy boyfriend flew out of the kitchen, he snuck back in through a basement window, and he had a broken bottle in his hand. He sliced me across the chest and I lay on that shitty, smelly carpet thinking I was going to die right there. I could just hear my pop ranting about how I was an embarrassment to the family."

"Your dad is a cop?"

"Was. All the Kinney men are policemen. Even the queer."

"Did he really say that to you?"

Brian was quiet for a moment and Justin thought he wasn’t going to answer when the man nodded. "Yeah. He railed on me good, right there in the emergency room." Brian was again mulling something over in his mind, and the blonde just waited. Either he would tell him or he wouldn’t. "I was so out of it," Brian added, "I decided that was as good a time as any to tell him I was gay too." The older man shifted and lay down on his back next to the blonde and Justin nestled against his side, his ear to the man's heart now. He listened to it beating hard and fast against Brian’s ribcage.

"He said it would’ve been better if I’d died in that house. And that was the last thing he said to me because the bastard died of a heart attack two weeks later. Fucking some whore in the third ward. Keeping up a fine Kinney tradition." Brian looked down at the blonde head nestled under his chin and couldn’t believe he’d just told the younger man what his father said to him. He’d never told another soul. Not even Michael.

"My dad kicked me out when he found out I was gay," Justin told him. "I went to Liberty Avenue when I was seventeen. I was determined to get laid, but instead I met Emmett." They both laughed. "We became friends, but my dad found out I was sneaking out to the bars and threatened to kick me out if I didn’t quit my ‘disgusting lifestyle’. I didn’t even have a lifestyle yet. All I’d ever done was kiss some guy who bought me a beer once. I told my dad to go to hell, but he threatened to have Emmett arrested for molesting me. At least then my mom told him to go to hell too because even she knew Emmett wouldn’t hurt me. I moved in with Emmett and my mom kept my dad off my back until I turned eighteen. Then she divorced him."

Brian listened as the other man talked, slowly stroking his bare back under the jacket he still wore. He should get up and close the window and they could get under the covers. "How are things with him now?"

"I haven’t spoken to him since I told him I was going to PIFA instead of Dartmouth. He wanted me to be a business major. When I told him I wanted to be an artist, he refused to pay my tuition. My mom and I scraped the first year’s tuition together, and then I got lucky and had scholarships for the rest. At least when I went to Europe after graduation, he stopped giving mom such a hard time about Molly. Since I wasn’t around to influence her with my now well-established lifestyle anymore, he didn’t feel the need to constantly micromanage her life. But the damage was already done. She was acting out and getting in trouble all through high school."

Brian rolled onto his side, pushing the other man onto his back. Having met the two Taylor women, the detective was pretty sure he knew where this train of thought was going. "You know that’s not your fault, right?"

"Yeah," the blonde replied unconvincingly, but Brian didn’t push. He knew all too well how hard it was to know something in your brain and reconcile it with your heart. Especially in his job.

Justin looked up at the man hovering over him and felt his stomach flutter again. It suddenly hit him that he was half-naked with this man in a hotel room. For the next four days. And Brian wanted him here. He didn’t doubt that. And not just for sex. The older man really wanted to just be with him. And he didn’t want to be anywhere else. The artist pulled the older man’s head down and kissed him lightly. When Brian kissed him back, he licked across the man’s lower lip, seeking entrance. The detective opened his mouth and sucked the blonde’s tongue in.

They forgot themselves for a few moments again as they eagerly tangled together, and Brian carefully spread himself over the smaller body, nudging Justin’s legs apart with his thigh as he straddled the blonde’s left side. Justin pulled his mouth away and looked up at the man, breathing heavily, his eyes wide, searching for something.

The older man berated himself for getting carried away again. He didn’t want the kid to think he was pushing, but he just couldn’t stop touching him. He was about to suggest going to sleep again when Justin surprised him.

"Make love to me."

Now it was Brian’s turn to study the artist’s face. He pushed the short bangs away from the blonde’s eyes and pressed his forehead to the younger man’s. "Justin…"

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