Acknowledging Fears

Chapter 8

As Brian finished tidying up the loft, he realized he had yet to call Jennifer Taylor to set up the lunch date, er appointment, he corrected himself. She was one of only two women who had the unerring ability to make him feel like a teenager again, like he was being called into the principal's office for some minor infraction. For reasons unclear to him, he knew he had to tell her himself. After all, he owed her that much and more. He knew he'd never be completely comfortable with her but they'd come a long way since the day she'd stormed into Brian's office with a bag full of Justin's stuff and a check. Christ, he'd been pissed.

So it was with not a little trepidation that Brian dialed her number. To his surprise, it was a young female voice who answered though. Molly, he thought.

"Hey, Just," Molly said. With that disdain only younger sisters could manage. Must be a female thing, he thought. God knew that Claire had it too and Brian remembered none too fondly occasions when she'd given him grief. But after the show that afternoon Brian had little desire to think of family, particularly his own.

"Molly, it's Brian."

She smiled. She liked her older brother's lover even if he was kind of old. But she was not too jaded at age fourteen to recognize that Brian was hot, kind of like Tom Cruise or George Clooney.

"Hi, Brian." The emotion in her voice wasn't forced. She was genuinely happy to hear from him.

Brian couldn't help smiling. He liked Molly Taylor who, at fourteen, was beginning to come into her own. With strawberry blonde hair and Jennifer Taylor's looks, she was bound to be a heartbreaker. He particularly liked the way she gave her brother hell. Throwing Justin off his game wasn't easy to do but Molly did it with a certain panache that would stand her in good stead in adulthood.

"Your mom around?" he asked, hunting for a pack of cigarettes. He knew he had one unless his blond had been devious and hid it from him. He figured the situation called for one or two. Maybe smoking would settle his nerves. They were jangling like a fucking tambourine.

"Yep," Molly said. She did like Brian even though her father refused to acknowledge he even had a son. As if that woman he was obviously sleeping with was better than Brian, she thought bitterly. "Let me get her for you."

A shrill "Mom" came through the receiver at earsplitting volume and Brian winced, holding the receiver away from his ear. Teenage girls, he thought amusedly. Not that I have much experience with them, he amended his thought. Teenage boys, yes. Somehow that thought didn't comfort him much.

Finally finding the cigarettes, he shook one out. Lighting it, he took a drag while he waited for Jennifer to come to the phone. He realized that this was one of the few occasions he'd called her for help or to talk. He wasn't entirely comfortable with her and he knew that despite her assertions to the contrary she still had some reservations about him. He couldn't exactly blame her.

Molly finally tracked her mom down in the room she had converted into an office, sitting at the desk, with her glasses perched on top of her head. Jennifer looked kind of frazzled and Molly knew her mother would be surprised to hear it was Brian and not her son. "Mom," Molly said. There was a delayed response as Jennifer turned to look at her younger child.

"What, honey?"

"It's Brian."

Hmm, Jennifer thought absentmindedly. Then her daughter's words sank in and she took the receiver, panic settling in. "Brian, is Justin all right?"

Oh shit, he thought, hearing the panic creep into her tone. Of course she'd go into panic mode. Because he called so rarely. Damn it. "He's fine. I actually wanted to talk to you about your dinner invitation."

Relief ran through Jennifer as she relaxed. She leaned back in the chair, attention diverted from the contract she'd been scanning for a house she was closing on. Someday she hoped that she'd be finding her son and his partner one of their own. It was a mother's dream, she realized, but it gave her hope. After all, the loft was a "fuck pad" and she'd loved seeing the expression on her son's face when she'd uttered those words. Utter shock. Brian, however, hadn't even blinked. Mr. Cool, she thought. For too long, she'd been reserved and attentive, the perfect suburban housewife. Stepford wife, she mentally corrected herself. For way too long, she'd been the perfect wife for Craig until her eyes had been opened. God, they'd been opened rather rudely as she'd careened into a life of single motherhood and independence at age forty. She had many things to be grateful for.

"Oh?"

Brian took a drag on his cigarette. "Yeah, Justin and I'd like that. I have some time in a week if you want to go. But I wanted to ask you to lunch on Wednesday."

Huh? Jennifer's eyes went wide. She set down her pen and kicked off her pumps. Brian never ever asked her to lunch. "You and Justin?"

"No. I have something I wanted to talk to you about." Then he realized where those words might lead her and hurried to add, "I'm not proposing." Christ, that would be a nightmare.

Jennifer nearly laughed. Brian had made perfectly clear his stand on gay marriage. She doubted he'd ever bend. But nevertheless she sensed something was not quite right with her son's partner. "Something wrong?"

He'd forgotten just where Justin had gotten his tenacity. "Uh no. Consider it a thank you for all your help with Kinnetik." God, that was a huge fucking lie. Thank God she can't see my face, he thought.

She glanced at the huge calendar that was on the blotter. "A late lunch?" she suggested.

"Yeah," he said, figuring he'd need a glass of whiskey to get through this one. Probably more than one. And tonight, he thought. He was dreading facing Lindsay. "You can call Cynthia to set it up. I don't have my calendar in front of me. Unless you'd rather do dinner." Christ, am I still Brian Kinney? He thought. This had to be a first. Me going to dinner with a straight woman who isn't a client. And no, Debbie didn't count.

Jennifer rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was hearing things. Brian suggesting dinner. Well, the world hadn't fallen off its axis. "Lunch is fine. Chez Marie okay?" Figured he'd be enough out of his comfort zone without them doing a dinner. Too straight, she thought, for her almost son-in-law. But lunch was fine.

Brian grinned. There were reasons he adored his partner's mother. And adoring Jennifer Taylor was not something Brian would have ever predicted. In fact, he'd thought he'd forever remain her mortal enemy and had been pleasantly surprised when she'd slowly but surely come to accept him. A shared love of French cuisine was one of the things they held in common, other than Justin, of course. "Chez Marie is fine."

Jennifer nearly sighed. It had been so long since she'd been out and Chez Marie was one of her favorite places. "I'll call Cynthia tomorrow to set it up."

Privately she thought it had been too long since she and Cynthia had gotten together. She liked Brian's assistant, had ever since Cynthia had been her unwitting accomplice back when she'd thought Brian was the devil incarnate for seducing her son. Now, they shared tidbits of gossip though Cynthia had been remarkably reticent about Brian when she'd last spoken to the woman. That had peaked her curiosity though decorum and breeding had prevented her from prying. After all, even Brian was entitled to his privacy.

Ten minutes later, Brian had thrown on a black shirt over the tank. Dressed him up a little more. He realized he wasn't at the top of his game but damned if he'd greet Lindsay and his son looking like the Grim fucking Reaper. He walked over to make sure all the shards of glass had been removed and was thankful, yet again, that he'd refused to carpet the loft. He liked all the hardwood though at times he'd wished rather fervently for it when he'd ended up on his back under a certain blond's assault. That made him smile.

He walked over to his desk, straightening papers and his eyes fell upon the desk calendar. He recognized the date and, for a moment, simply forgot to breathe. Oh, holy mother Mary, Brian thought. Christ, this is just the worst fucking day of my life. He wondered if Lindsay remembered. Then realized a moment later that there was a better chance of Lindsay suddenly deciding to take it up the ass or that she liked dick than there was of her not remembering the import of this date to both of them. And he had put it out of his mind for years. Someday he'd have to explain their connection to Justin, why it seemed a platinum cord bound them together. And it wasn't just Gus or the fact that he'd been her last male lover before he'd informed her that he thought she preferred pussy to cock, and that he certainly preferred dick. Not one of his finer moments as he'd delivered that bomb with his usual lack of tact.

Before he could slip into brooding mode, he heard footsteps clattering up the steps and, glancing at the wall clock, realized it was Justin and Daphne. It was too early for it to be Lindsay and his Sonny Boy. He slid the loft door open and a giggling Justin and Daphne nearly fell through the suddenly open door. "Hey, gorgeous girl," Brian said, in his best seductive tone.

Justin threw him a glance and Brian smirked. He could flirt with the best of them and even straight women sat up and paid attention to Brian. You could make book on that. "Brian," Daphne said, inclining her head just as Brian kissed her cheek.

He could have wept when she didn't ask him how he was. Thank God, he thought, she isn't treating me like an invalid. Not that Justin had either, he admitted, but it had been a long day. It was bound to be a long night and not for a good reason like fucking all night long. "Daphne, you want something to drink?"

She smiled. "Sure," she said. "Glenlivet if you have it." She was teasing, of course. She hated whiskey. But Brian downed the stuff like water. She figured it was the Irish in him.

He narrowed his eyes. "You known better than to ask an Irish man for Scottish whiskey. That's a mortal insult, my dear," he said, slipping effortlessly into an Irish brogue.

She glanced at Justin, who merely shrugged. He rather enjoyed the show when his lover and his best friend got together. The shrug said, don't ask me. You're the one who got him started. Deal with it.

Chocolate brown eyes met hazel. Brian's were sparkling. "Beer's fine, Brian. Thanks."

"You know where it lives."

Oh God, I love this man, Justin thought. He was feeling better. He scanned the loft, noting the remains of the bottle had been cleaned up.

Daphne snorted as she made her way over to the fridge. She opened it, scanning the contents. It baffled her how Brian could survive on so little, like he could survive on a diet of cum and Justin. But maybe that was all he needed. Men, she thought. "Want anything?" she tossed over her shoulder.

God knew, Brian did but he was forced to be good. He couldn't exactly tell Lindsay if he were half drunk. And he'd never wanted to get drunk more than he did at that moment. She'd never forgive him and he didn't want his son to see him inebriated. He remembered rather too well the occasions when Jack had stumbled in from an evening out with the "boys" of the electrical union, slurring words and walking into walls and stumbling. That wasn't something he wanted to expose his son to despite what Melanie, the she-wolf, might think. He did have some principles. "Glass of guava juice." Justin's dick, he thought silently.

"Just," Daph asked, getting out a bottle of Dos Equis for herself and the container of juice for Brian, the lord of the manor. And Brian had never looked more regal, she thought, even if he was carelessly casual, even rumpled.

"Same as you," he replied, taking a moment to study his lover.

Brian looked better, like he'd gotten some of his color back. He walked over to stand near Brian and was surprised when the man said softly, "Come here."

Justin crept closer and Brian pulled him into an embrace. Said softly against his hair, "Have I thanked you for standing up to Claire?"

"Uh no," Justin said, tipping his head back so he could meet Brian's eyes. Long gone were the days when he'd just stand by and watch those who supposedly loved Brian rip into him without saying anything. Brian meant more to him than that. And people needed to remember that even baby lions have claws and fangs and know how to use them. He'd be reminded of that in days to come.

"Thank you, baby," Brian said softly, knowing that he'd rarely if ever called Justin anything other than Sunshine or Sonny Boy. And even those occasions were rare. He just wasn't that demonstrative when it came to emotions.

Shocked more at the endearment than anything else, Justin kissed him, lips brushing gently against Brian's. It wasn't a sexual or provocative kiss, more sensual than anything else. Daphne watched the two of them and realized that it wasn't sex that bound the two of them together but something more fundamental than that. They complemented each other in so many ways. Like two halves of a whole, she thought. Someday she'd like to have that. Maybe someday her prince would come, though she thought that Brian would hate being called anyone's prince. But she was practical enough not to believe in fairy tales or happily ever after.

Still she cleared her throat, waiting as two pairs of eyes met hers, almost guiltily. It wasn't as if she'd caught them in bed, she thought, but still it was an intimate moment between lovers. She handed Justin his bottle of beer and Brian the glass of guava juice. Brian's eyes met hers and what she saw there rocked her. But it was fleeting. Like a flash of lightning, there one minute, gone the next.

"Care to sit?" Brian said, indicating the pillows and futon mattress. The loft was still rather bare of furniture. Most of the budget that would have gone towards refurnishing the loft had been sunk into Brian's business.

Daphne rather doubted that Justin minded. As long as it didn't look like an opium den and he had Brian, Daphne knew Justin would accept just about anything. She followed the boys' lead and sank down onto a pillow, nearly sighing at the softness. Christ, he has good taste, she thought, thinking of her own homey apartment that felt Bohemian rather than upscale. Brian's had always felt more like a showroom for expensive Italian furniture than anything else. She remembered her wide-eyed wonder the first time she'd seen it and him.

She watched as Brian pulled Justin back against him. These carelessly intimate moments were an insight into their relationship that she knew was rare. A side the denizens of the backroom never saw, that his friends probably never saw. There were those rare moments when Brian's guard was down and he was completely relaxed. She doubted that his friends would doubt the reality of Brian's feelings for Justin if they saw this tableau. "Want a cigarette?" Brian asked. His nerves were on edge but he was calmer than he'd expected. Calmer than the situation warranted. Under the circumstances no one could blame him if he was a little crazy or neurotic.

"I'm fine."

Brian studied her, this friend of Justin's that he'd gotten to know so well over the past few years. Daphne wasn't really a part of their circle but she was a part of the circle he and Justin made. As such, Brian was fiercely protective of her. As she was of him, a fact which amused him. "You want to surf the net?"

Eyes narrowed, Daphne looked at him. "Kinney, you trying to get rid of me?"

Brian laughed. "No, Daph, honey. You'd know if I was trying to get rid of you. I'd have my hand down Justin's pants or my mouth on his dick."

Bluntly and unapologetically honest. Vintage Kinney, she thought. "Yes, I know. I've seen the floor show, remember?"

"Rather enjoyed it, didn't you?"

She smiled a little nervously. "Two gorgeous men fucking the hell out of each other. Who wouldn't? And I believe Cynthia enjoyed it too."

Brian's arms tightened imperceptibly around Justin. He knew the blond still felt faintly embarrassed by that. It had been a moment spurred on by a stupid bet and one Justin probably regretted. Feeling vaguely uncomfortable, Justin turned to look at his friend. "Daph, you know I love you."

"Yes," she said, caution creeping into her tone.

Justin avoided looking back at Brian, simply nestled back against him. "But please don't bring up that night. It was a one-time shot. No repeats."

Got it, she thought. As I have the video courtesy of one Brian A. Kinney. She'd been surprised when she'd received the Fed Ex package. Even more surprised when she realized that the video camera on the tripod in the corner of the bedroom had actually been on taping every moment in live, living color. Only Brian could be as casual about his sexuality. Her oldest friend was a little more reserved. "I know that, Just." And just like that the subject was dropped.

An hour later, school had been discussed and work and Brian had actually made a few suggestions about wardrobe improvements that Daphne considered. And the pizza order had been made. Just as they were beginning to become bored again, they heard the knock on the door. "Ah, that would be Sonny Boy and Lindz." Brian said, rising to his feet, gently dislodging Justin so that he fell on the pillow.

He slid open the loft door and a giggling, squirming toddler ran full-tilt into his Daddy's arms. It took full control for Brian not to wince, when Gus locked his arms around his knees, coming dangerously close to his balls. "Bri," Lindsay said, looking kind of frazzled herself. Then she noticed Justin and Daphne sitting on the pillows. And she wondered again just why Brian hadn't wanted her wife along for this dinner. She let Brian deal with their son for a moment then walked into the kitchen, setting the bags down on the counter. She removed two Greek salads and then stuck them into the refrigerator before joining everyone in the living room. She kicked off her heels and wondered again what sadist had decided that women would look better in such beautiful torture devices.

"Hey, Gus," Justin said, sitting up as Gus ran towards him.

"Just," Gus said, excitement clear in his voice. He liked his daddy's Justin. Daddy had been sad when he wasn't around. Daddy was happy now. He looked at his mommy and she looked kind of sad.

Brian met Lindsay's eyes, saw the question in them, and shook his head. Not now, he mouthed. At the moment, he'd have cheerfully killed for a cigarette. Gus looked around, seeing a stranger in their midst. Daphne noticed Gus's attention and realized just how much his son looked like Brian. The child dubbed Mini-Me by Justin wasn't far off the mark. "Hi," Gus said, unsteadily rising to his feet and toddling over to Daphne.

He climbed into her lap and Daphne couldn't help smiling. The child had his mother's eyes but his features were definitely stamped with Kinney heritage. "I'm Daphne. Call me Daph," she said, figuring the nickname was easier for a nearly three-year-old to handle.

"Like on Scooby Doo," Gus said. I'm going to like her, he thought, snuggling up against her. She smelled a bit like Mommy.

With that simple phrase, Daphne fell a little bit in love with the littlest Kinney-Peterson. "Yep, like on Scooby-Doo."

Brian and Lindsay looked at each other. Both smiled. Their son had charmed yet another person. And he'd connected her name to a cartoon he loved to watch in re-runs. Brian smiled, realizing that he'd watched the originals. And didn't that make him feel old?

"Hi, Daphne." Lindsay said, finally remembering her manners.

"Lindsay," Daphne said, adjusting herself so Gus could become more comfortable. "Nice to see you again." It hadn't escaped her attention that the blonde's eyes had grown cool. What's up with that? She wondered. But there was something just a bit off in the way Lindsay studied Brian, she noted. Like she had feelings for him or something, she thought. No, that can't be it. Lindsay's a lesbian. But Daphne made a mental note to study that further. She knew that Brian and Lindsay had past history, past intimate history.

"You want something to drink, Lindz?" Brian said, glancing at the statuesque blonde.

"Uh, yeah. You have any Perrier?"

Brian looked at her. "You wouldn't rather have a glass of chardonnay?"

"Can't. I'm driving, remember?" She threw a rather pointed look at him.

"Yes, I remember." Brian said, disgusted. Couldn't he do anything right? "I'll get it for you."

"No, that's OK. I can get it."

Reining in his temper took effort. "Lindsay," he hissed, "I'll get your fucking Perrier."

Now he couldn't miss the daggers she looked at him. Fuck it, Brian thought. Hormonal women. She wasn't even the one having the baby. And she wondered why he didn't like pussy?

Temporarily diverted from paying attention to Brian, Lindsay studied Justin. The young man looked good, she admitted. Justin always looked good and she'd wondered about the week they'd spent apart recently. Wondered if it was just another of their typical spats. If Justin had walked in on Brian and another trick. She'd never understand their relationship but she didn't condemn it the way her wife did. Hell, she couldn't. She remembered him in college and in the early years after he'd graduated. Brian had calmed down a bit and that was saying a lot. "Justin, how's school going?"

Justin looked at her. He knew that she'd probably rip into him for not telling her about Brian's illness but it wasn't his place to tell her. It was Brian and she that shared a child, after all. He was just the father's lover. It took effort for him not to feel better about that but he knew that his position in Brian's life would always be transitory. "School's going good. I have to do a portrait of someone close to me or a self-portrait."

"You decided who you're going to paint?"

From the kitchen, Brian listened attentively. It was the first time he'd heard about this new project and then realized that the assignment had probably come up during their time apart. But he realized with a sense of guilt that he rarely asked Justin about school even though he was paying for it. "Um no," Justin said, throwing a glance Brian's direction, knowing the man was paying attention even if he appeared that he didn't notice what was going on. Brian was remarkably observant.

"Is this a full self-portrait? Or are you studying nudes?"

Justin squirmed a bit on his pillow. This was making him a little uncomfortable. He still felt a bit uncomfortable with freehand drawings and paintings, and leaned a little bit on the computer program Brian had bought him. But he was gradually becoming more used to using his hand, though it cramped after twenty minutes so he couldn't do more than that at a stretch. The professors were accommodating but the lasting effect of the attack irritated him. "Um, it can be either."

Ok, Brian thought, my attention is definitely peaked. And, why hasn't he mentioned this before? He could see just how uncomfortable his lover was. But then Justin said, "I don't want to do a self-portrait of myself."

Uh oh. Brian uncapped the bottle of Perrier and rejoined the small group in the living room. Before he could ask any probing questions, the buzzer for the downstairs door sounded. Ah, fuck, he thought, making a mental note to talk to Justin about the project later. He pushed the series of buttons to let the party gain entrance to the building. A few minutes later, Brian was paying the pizza delivery guy and locking the loft door behind him. He'd called and left messages on nearly everyone's voice mail telling them to leave them alone for the evening. He hoped, really hoped, that Michael would respect his wishes just this once. The last thing he wanted was the whole Liberty Avenue gang in the loft. Not tonight.

Justin rose to join his lover in the kitchen and kissed Brian's shoulder. "Hey, how you doing?" Justin said, voice soft so as not to arouse suspicion.

"I'm fine. I just want to get this over with. You know?"

"Yeah, I know." Justin could completely understand where Brian was coming from. "I'm here for you."

"Not going anywhere?"

"No." It was the closest Brian would come to admitting he needed Justin there for support and Justin knew it. Knew it and wouldn't press. "I love you," Justin said.

"I know," Brian said, smiling a bit. He didn't need to hear it all the time and more often than not it made him uncomfortable. Yet there were times when Brian needed to hear it more than anything in the world. And when he'd woken up alone in that hospital room, it had been Justin he'd wanted. He'd desperately wanted to have the blond's arms around him and hear him say that he loved him. Yes Virginia, even Brian Kinney needed to be loved, needed to hear it.

"Mind grabbing the plates?"

"Not at all," Justin said, recognizing and accepting Brian's need for changing the subject. "Hey guys, you all set with drinks? Lindz, what does Gus want?"

"Soda," Gus said, his little voice piping up.

"Sorry sweetie," Lindsay said to her son, watching as her son's mouth formed a pout. "He'll have milk."

Brian grimaced. "All we have is soy, Lindz. Will he drink that?"

Since Gus spent so little time at the loft, Lindsay couldn't exactly blame Brian for not having 1% skim milk or rice milk. But she still felt vaguely irritated. He'd been so goddamn mysterious, she thought. What the hell is going on? But aloud, she said only, "Guava juice is fine, Bri."

Daphne hadn't missed the interaction between Brian and Lindsay and wondered again just what exactly there was between the two. Brian seemed more on edge than usual and that was considering his cancer. She looked at Justin and saw that he too was considering Lindsay. Her eyes met crystal clear blue ones and Daphne knew that he was wondering what was up with her also. It would bear discussion later, she thought, resolving to talk about it with her friend.

Justin and Brian returned to the living room and Brian handed his son a sippy cup of juice. He had no desire to clean up a spill. Lindsay took a slice of cheese pizza and opened the container which held her salad. Drizzling it with vinaigrette, she took a bite. It didn't escape her notice that Justin had nestled into Brian. If they started feeding each other, she was going to have to say something, she thought.

"So how's work at the gallery, Lindsay? I hear there's a new Auerbach exhibit. I bet you're busy," Justin said. He knew of the eccentric artist's work on canvas and off canvas.

"Yeah, the show will be interesting. Daphne, what are you studying now?"

Justin wondered at the abrupt change of subject. Usually Lindsay was as passionate about art as he was. He felt Brian's arm tighten around him and knew the man was summoning courage. He'd had a rough day. And Justin wished he could give Brian comfort. He knew rationally that sex wasn't all they had between them but sometimes it was the glue that held them together. Now was a true test of what they had.

"I'm pre-med." Daphne's tone was cool as she appraised the other woman. "I'm taking microbiology and virology and some other courses."

Brian looked up, making a mental note to talk to Daphne more. She probably knew about testicular cancer and he was kind of relieved that Justin had had her to talk to. God knew, that the support system they had was not infallible and sometimes collapsed in on itself. He looked at his son and felt again strongly that he needed to play a stronger role in his son's life. Though he'd once joked about Melanie providing the masculine influence in Gus' life, Brian now knew that he wanted to be an active participant in his son's life, not simply an observer. That Gus deserved more from him.

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