Blasts From the Past

Chapter 1

“Dada, you and Daddy are going to be at camp this afternoon?” Bree asked as Brian adjusted her Dora the Explorer backpack on her shoulders.

“We’ll be there, Squirt,” Brian said with a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“Good.”

“My dads are going to be there too, aren’t they?” Patrick asked.

“You can take that to the bank, Little Red,” Brian assured him.

Patrick smiled at his uncle, as the bus pulled up in front of them.

“Hope to see you later today,” Cassie, the counselor, called from the bus.

“I’ll be there,” Brian said with a wave as the bus drove away. He watched the bus disappear down the lane feeling kind of strange about what had just happened. He turned to walk back into the cottage. He shook his head and smiled wanly to himself. He made his way out into the sun porch where Justin was working on the painting of Brian’s angels that he had promised to do.

“What are you looking so quizzical about?” Justin asked when he looked up from his concentration on the canvas in front of him.

“I … I just fucking waved goodbye to a school bus as it drove down the lane,” Brian stammered.

“Yeah? So?” Justin asked with a frown.

“I’m standing in my quiet lane wearing my fucking designer jeans and waving at a fucking school bus. How the mighty have fallen.” Brian shook his head again.

Justin snorted derisively. “I hate to burst your self-pity bubble, but you weren’t waving at a school bus. You were waving at our daughter whom you love more than life itself, so buck up. Your reputation is safe with me.”

“But a whole busload of kids saw me,” Brian griped with a silly lopsided grin.

“I’m sure they’re reporting your out of character behavior to the tabloids as we speak.”

“Can’t I get a teensy-weensy bit of sympathy?” Brian whined.

“What the fuck is the matter with you today?” Justin demanded dropping his brush in the cleanser can and moving over to Brian. He wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist.

“I just feel like my life has changed so totally. I’m not sure who I am anymore.”

Justin sighed and then kissed Brian’s lips lightly.

“See,” Brian said, “in the old days your tongue would have been down my throat and your hand would have been down my jeans.”

Justin leaned back to look into Brian’s eyes. “Is this a cheap ploy to get some gratuitous sex?” he asked with a smirk.

Brian had to laugh at that comment. “Is it working? And our sex is never gratuitous.”

“You got that right, bucko!”

“Bucko? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Brian couldn’t hide the gleam of humor in his eyes at the caustic comment.

“It doesn’t mean anything, Brian. I’m trying to cheer you up.”

“You’re not doing a very good job.”

“Shit! I thought when you laughed I was making progress.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “I … I never envisioned that I would have a family and a daughter and a son going off to university and…” Brian stopped, looking very serious again.

“Hey, where am I in all that?” Justin demanded when Brian didn’t finish his list of supposed atrocities that had beset his life.

“Top of the list.”

“Okay then,” Justin said sarcastically. He wasn’t going to let Brian get him down.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” Brian continued. “I just feel out of sorts.”

“You’re not getting out of going to Parents’ Day at Bree’s camp. She’ll kill both of us if we don’t show up.”

“I want to go for her, but…”

“But what? Oh wait, it’s the other hundred screaming kids that have you worried.” Brian nodded. “I’ll protect you, big guy,” Justin promised.

“You better.”

“I will,” Justin restated. His lips found Brian’s and his tongue found his husband’s tonsils. His left hand popped the buttons on the designer jeans and snaked its way down to the hidden treasures inside.

Brian groaned mightily. “Now that’s more like the kind of cheering up I had in mind.”

Justin laughed. “I knew this was all a ploy.”

“We have hours before we have to be at the fucking camp. Let’s go back to bed,” he whispered in Justin’s ear.

“I was going to work on your painting.”

“I’d rather work on your body.”

Now it was Justin’s turn to groan as Brian dragged him to their bedroom. The painting would still be there later, but their bodies needed the attention right then.

 

*****
 

“Are you sure we have to do this?” Brian asked as he pulled the SUV to a stop amidst the myriad of other cars already assembled for the Camp Little Flowers Parents’ Day.

“I thought I had fucked all that negativity out of you,” Justin said smugly.

“You certainly tried.”

Justin grinned. “We haven’t had a marathon like that in a while.”

Brian snorted. “You call three hours a marathon?”

“Yes I do.”

Brian turned off the engine. “I remember when we could go all night and never blink an eye.”

“Maybe we should see if Ted has any Viagra if that’s what you want to do,” Justin laughed.

Brian glared at him but didn’t take the bait. He slid out of the car and walked around to Justin’s side. “Where the fuck are we supposed to go?” Brian looked around at the tables and booths and games that started at the edge of the parking area and extended as far as the eye could see. It looked like a perfect representation of Hell to him.

“Come on, ya big grump,” Justin said grabbing Brian’s arm and pulling him towards the assembled masses.

“Daddy! Dada!” a little voice screeched.

Before they could reach the edge of the parking area a little blonde bombshell crashed into them wrapping an arm around each of their legs.

“I thought you’d never get here,” Bree scolded. “Everybody else’s daddies and mommies are already here.”

“Sorry, Squirt, your Daddy kept me busy,” Brian said with a smirk.

Justin stifled his retort not wanting to upset his daughter. “We’re here now, Sweetheart. What should we do first?” He glared at Brian who merely smiled smugly.

“Hotdogs!” Bree said definitively.

“Hotdogs,” Brian groaned.

“Great!” Justin said cheerfully. “I’m hungry. Your Dada didn’t let me have lunch.”

“I waited to have hotdogs with you,” Bree said pulling on each of their arms. She led them over to the food area where John, Bobby and Patrick were already munching on hotdogs.

“’Bout time you got here,” John said as he bit off some of his dog.

“Good dog?” Brian asked ignoring the implied criticism.

“Best tube steak I’ve had in years,” Bobby laughed. “Right, Patrick?”

“Yep,” Patrick agreed as he continued to eat his own dog.

Bree was at the table ordering hotdogs for each of them. She handed one to her Daddy and another one to her Dada before taking her own. Justin doused his with mustard and ketchup and added ketchup to Bree’s.

“What do you want on yours, Brian?” he asked.

Brian snorted. “A steak.”

“Be serious.”

“You don’t know how I take my hotdogs after all these years?” Brian asked in a mocking voice.

"It's been so rarely that I've ever seen you eat a hotdog," Justin said seriously.

"You can count the number of times on the fingers of one hand," Brian replied with a superior sneer. "Do you know what's in those things?"

“Good, Dada,” Bree said her face smeared with ketchup.

“Oh fuck, throw on some mustard,” Brian told Justin. “There’s a time and place for everything.”

Justin handed the mustard clad hotdog to his husband. Brian took a big bite and chewed without too much grimacing. They all knew Brian would do anything to please his little princess.

“Good, Dada?” Bree asked.

“Fabulous.”

That elicited a big ketchup smile from the little girl. Justin also smiled fondly at his husband, and Brian knew he had done the right thing by eating the fucking hotdog.

“Here, wash it down with this,” John said handing Brian a paper cup filled with red liquid.

“What is it?”

“Red Koolaid.”

“Yummy!” Brian snarked, but he took a drink hoping it would help the hotdog disappear.

“Time for games,” one of the counselors yelled.

The kids started jumping up and down as Brian watched in horror. What the fuck would they expect him to do – dunk for apples or throw balloons full of water? He shivered at the thought.

“I told them we’d play soccer, Dada,” Bree said, as Justin wiped the ketchup off her face.

“Soccer?” Brian asked perking up at that comment. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Good girl,” he said to Bree as she took his hand to lead him over to the soccer area.

 

*****
 

Teams Briana and Brian Kinney-Taylor and Patrick and Bobby Morrison-Anderson were both victorious in their respective sports, each returning to Edna’s Treasures with trophies. Glorious songs of triumph were sung throughout the night. The spoils of war were proudly displayed on fireplace mantels.

“Daddy, did you see my field goal?”

“I saw, Baby Girl,” Justin crowed proudly as he chopped vegetables to stir fry.

“Did you see mine, Sunshine?” Brian said with a wink and a smirk.

“I saw. And I also saw your long ass legs flying over six year olds. Not fair, Bri.”

“Hey, there were other moms and dads on the teams. I can’t help it if they can’t play soccer for shit.”

“Yeah, Dada had a soccer collar-chip! He can’t help it if he’s the best soccer player ever.”

“Yeah,” Brian said smugly as he hugged his number one fan.

“If this mutual admiration society would curtail the accolades for a while, maybe we can set the table for dinner,” Justin announced sternly.

“Yes, dear,” Brian replied contritely as he took a stack of plates out to the sun porch.

“Yes, Daddy,” Briana said meekly as she sucked her lips into her mouth. She carried the cutlery and napkins.

Justin chuckled as he added the chicken to the pan.

 

*****
 

“Admit it, little bro, you had fun today,” John commented as they passed around a bowl of fresh cut up melons for dessert. “You looked good out there.”

“John, it was a game with kids and a bunch of parents that were lucky if they knew which goal was which.”

“Maybe, but I could imagine what you must have been like on the field at Penn. You’ve still maintained your competitive spirit. It shows in your business and your game. And you’re in great shape. I don’t want to hear you complain about growing old. You may have aged Brian, but you’re far from old.”

Brian had no words, so he gave his brother a crooked smile.

“Dada, Unca Bobby has lots of trophies at Grandpa Doctor Dan’s house. Do you have trophies?” Bree asked innocently.

Slightly shocked at the question, Brian had no answer for his daughter. How could he tell her that he never brought any of them home because his parents wouldn’t have cared?

“Bree, I don’t know if your Dada has any of his trophies hiding someplace, but I saw many of them,” Bobby answered for Brian.

“You did?! Where?” Bree asked as her eyes grew large with wonder.

“I went to the same university that your Dada did. His trophies are there.”

“Can we go and see them some day?” Bree pleaded to her fathers. Brian, unable to refuse any reasonable request from his daughter, nodded slightly.

“Brian, Gus will be going to Penn for orientation soon. We can all go. Make it a family vacation,” Justin said reasonably. John and Bobby agreed.

“I haven’t been back since I graduated. I’d love to show Patrick the campus; maybe he’ll want to go there someday,” Bobby added, ruffling his son's bright red hair.

“Gus is a great kid; we’ll all lend him our support, Brian,” John contributed.

“A Kinney invasion, Penn will never be the same,” Brian snarked as he popped a small cube of melon into his mouth. “I foresee a road trip in our future,” Brian declared as dessert continued.

 

*****
 

“Daddy, can I paint for a while before I go to bed?” Bree asked. Justin knew she was very tired from the busy day they all had; however, Bree always had enough energy to paint.

“Okay, Baby Girl. I’ll set you up at your easel. I have a painting for your father that I’m working on.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” Bree said cheerfully. She looked over at her daddy’s canvas and recognized herself in her daddy’s arms as he sat in her rocking chair in her bedroom. “Pretty, Daddy.”

“Thank you, Sweetheart.”

The artists painted until the sun set over the meadow.

 

*****
 

“John, you’re fidgeting. Is there a storm coming?” Bobby asked his husband as they lay together in their bed.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. It feels like something is out there, waiting to cause us trouble,” John said pensively. Bobby had never discounted his spouse’s sixth sense about the weather or other things and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Do you mean that literally? Because Beau is quiet. If he heard anything outside, he’d sound the alarm.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just something or someone wanting to upset our lives. Bobby, we just have to keep our eyes open.”

“Whatever you need me to do, John, you know I’ll do it.”

“I know, love. You’re my heart and soul.” John wrapped his longer body around his love. “Make love to me, Bobby,” John entreated. “I want you.”

“I love you, John,” Bobby whispered as he made gentle love to his man.

 

*****
 

“What is it, Bri? You’ve been acting strangely all day,” Justin said as he snuggled close to his mate. The cottage was quiet, the kids fast asleep, exhausted from the events of the day.

“It’s nothing really, Sunshine,” Brian murmured softly as he kissed Justin’s temple and wrapped his arms around him. “Just have some things on my mind.”

“Like what?” Justin asked. He turned in Brian’s arms so he could see his lover’s face.

“You know Mikey’s stalker?”

“What about him?”

“It turns out he’s Dr. Dave’s son. He just showed up out of nowhere. Mikey isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or not. And then...” Brian hesitated to tell Justin about Brandon.

“Go on,” Justin encouraged his lover with a small kiss.

“I met toupee guy at the picnic,” Brian said with a sullen tone.

“Who is he?”

“Brandon.”

“Brandon? The fuck bet, Brandon?”

“Yes.”

“What does he want?”

“Me.”
 

Return to Blasts From the Past