Complications of the Mind

Chapter 13

While Brian was debating the future of his friendship with Michael, Michael was trying to figure out a way to make things right with his best friend. He opened the door to the apartment and threw his keys halfway across the room, narrowly avoiding hitting Hunter who'd just opened his bedroom door.

"Dude, what the hell is your problem?" Hunter asked, warily eyeing his guardian and sometimes friend. He'd found that he much preferred hanging out with Michael to hanging out with Ben; sometimes the professor got just a bit too cerebral for him.

"Nothin'," Michael said, flopping down on the sofa.

"Uh huh. You have a fight with Brian?" Hunter asked. "The stud turn you down or something?" Though he was joking, the comment had the effect of holding a match to a stick of dynamite: Michael exploded.

"He told me to give him back his key, the fucker. He chose the twink over me. Told me I wasn't family but the twink is. I'm the one who has been there for every major event in his life and I've never left him."

"You forget about your husband?"

Michael glared at the teenager and Hunter flinched, then stood his ground. What the fuck was he thinking? "No, I didn't forget about Ben. I love Ben. I wouldn't give up my relationship with Ben for anything. Not even Brian."

"But you still wonder what he's like in the sack? You still wonder what it's like to be fucked by the famous, the legendary-"

"Hunter, shut the fuck up," Michael said. "I'm trying to think here. You're not helping."

"Excuse me. I didn't know you could think, Mikey."

"Don't call me that," he snapped, irritated that Hunter had used the nickname Brian had laid claim to so many years ago.

Hunter sat down on the sofa next to him and Michael moved away. "I flirt with the stud but I know it's going nowhere. I know he's never gonna fuck me. And I like girls, too. But the 'twink' isn't going anywhere, Michael. Even I can see how much Brian loves him. If you want him as a friend, you're going to have to accept the fact that there are parts of his life that you aren't a part of anymore. It's not a dynamic duo anymore and you're not Robin to his Batman anymore."

"I love him," Michael said, miserably.

"I know, Michael. And you've been Brian's family for a long time, but he's got Justin now and he's not going anywhere."

"He left him before."

"And he came back twice," Hunter reminded him. "They love each other and nothing's gonna change that. The stud'll cool off and then things'll be back to normal between you two."

Michael wasn't so sure. He'd rarely seen Brian quite so pissed off and it worried him that he'd been asked to give up his key. There had been so many occasions over the years when that key had been a lifesaving device for Brian. When things might have gone terribly awry if Michael hadn't had access to the loft. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen when Justin was gone, gone to California. How Brian would handle things.

As it drew closer to midnight, Justin and John shared a pint of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream. "So you were seventeen when you met my uncle?"

"Yeah," a faint smile graced Justin's lips.

"You get all moony when you think about it," John observed, amused.

Justin licked some ice cream from the back of the spoon and narrowed his eyes at John. "I thought he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen."

John took another clump of ice cream and sucked it off. Hanging out with Justin while Brian had gone to do whatever the fuck he needed to do hadn't been bad. His uncle's lover wasn't half bad, he acknowledged. Much more fun than he'd thought. "So when'd you know you were gay?"

"When I was around your age," he reluctantly admitted. "But I think I knew when I was a lot younger and just couldn't define the feelings."

"So how often did you beat your meat?"

The question startled Justin at first and then he remembered that the kid had Kinney blood even if he was only Brian's nephew. But there were so many striking similarities between nephew and uncle that it was disconcerting to a bystander. "A lot. Even more after I met Brian and he told me that we couldn't fuck again."

"He turned you down?" John asked, incredulously.

Remembering the night he'd appeared at the loft and been so summarily dismissed by Brian, Justin took a few seconds before responding. "Yeah, he turned me down. He said that I was too-"

"Young for me. And I was too old for you because I was twenty-nine. Why are you telling the kid fairy tales?"

Justin and John turned to face the voice coming from behind them. Brian had quietly come in and closed the door behind him, not wanting to intrude on their conversation. He tossed the down comforter in John's direction and said, "There are earplugs in there."

He removed the phone and plugged it into the outlet, carefully picking up the shattered remains of the dead phone and tossing them in the wastebasket. He was silent as he did so and Justin and John stared at each other, wondering at his mood. Justin could sense danger on the wind, as easily as he could tell when a rain storm was blowing in.

Brian said nothing as he finished his task and then went to the bedroom, shedding clothes as he disappeared into the bathroom. John watched his uncle disappear and then glanced at Justin, who looked shaken. "Go find out what's wrong. I'll turn the music up. Just let me know when it's safe so I can go take a shower."

Justin scrambled to his feet and followed his lover's path into the bathroom. He opened the door and locked it behind him. The water was running and it was steamy in the bathroom as he shed clothes. He opened the shower door and winced at the heat. He looked at Brian and saw the tension tautening his muscles as he stood under the water.

He put his hands on Brian's shoulders and the older man allowed him to turn him. "You okay, Bri?" Justin asked, needlessly because he knew all too well that Brian was far from okay.

"No," he answered in a strangled voice. "I'm as far from okay as you can get. I bet John thinks I'm crazy."

"He's worried about you, Brian. So am I. Please tell me what's wrong."

Brian reached for the loofah and the bath gel, handing them to Justin and said only, "Get me clean please. I feel so dirty."

"You're clean, baby."

"No, I'm not," he replied. The seriousness of his tone clued Justin into the fact that Brian was deadly serious and this wasn't one of their customary games. There was little play in Brian's voice.

Justin silently poured a little bit of the gel onto the loofah and began to lather Brian's shoulders and back. He then progressed down his lover's back, lathering the curve of his buttocks, and then the backs of his strong thighs, and the hollow behind his knees. As he was washed clean, Justin kissed every inch of skin as the soap was washed away. He could feel Brian shudder under the gentle touch and wondered at his lover's skittishness. The last time he'd seen Brian like this was after his surgery when he'd been so reluctant to be touched, even by someone he loved.

"Justin," Brian's voice sounded alien even to his own ears. Justin moved around to face him and saw the naked fear in Brian's eyes.

"You're scaring me," Justin admitted. "What's wrong?"

Brian shuddered and then slid down the wall to the floor of the shower. He grabbed Justin's hand and pulled him down to sit next to him. "You know how you always complain that I don't tell you everything?"

Justin hesitantly nodded as Brian looped an arm around him, to pull him closer. "I found out tonight that my old man was raping Claire on the nights he wasn't beating the shit out of me."

He couldn't help gasping at the unexpected admission. "What?!"

Brian laughed dryly. "I thought I was the one who had the fucked up relationship with him. I guess I got off lucky. At least, he never fondled me."

"Why didn't she tell you years ago?"

"Cause she knew I'd have kicked his ass and probably ended up in juvie or worse because Mom would have taken that bastard's side. I think she thought it was better for me if I didn't know."

"So Claire was actually protecting you?"

"In a way, yeah. It just never occurred to me that I got the better bargain, having the shit kicked out of me. I went to school with so many shiners that I got a nickname for it. But Claire was playing surrogate for Mom. Christ, Justin. My family is so fucked up."

He didn't know quite how to comfort his partner so he just stayed silent, letting Brian hold him for the moment. Neither was aware when the water began to run cold until they both began to shiver. They looked at each other and laughed nervously. Justin stood up first, turning off the water and opened the door, preparing to step out, when Brian said, "I do need you. Don't let me push you away."

He looked back at Brian who stood up and smiled half-heartedly. "Not a chance. No cliffs in sight."

"I called Miranda tonight."

Justin paused as he reached for a towel and looked back at Brian. The question "why" died unasked on his lips as Brian closed the shower door behind him. "The guy at the store was cruising me and for a brief second, I entertained the thought of fucking him, and then I remembered that you were waiting for me at home. I turned him down, saying I was in a relationship. The guy said that what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you but I couldn't. When I got to the parking lot, I was having a panic attack, not full-blown but for the first time I understood what it meant when Tony Soprano described the sensation as having ginger ale in his skull. I called Miranda and she came to the store. She talked me down. She wants us to go in and talk to her before we fuck bareback. She also wants a session with me and John."

The reason for Brian's dinner with Claire had fled Justin's mind as soon as he'd heard about Claire's experience with their father and now it came back to the forefront of his thoughts. "Um, what did Claire say?"

Brian responded with arid delivery, "It is fine if John stays here. I'll enroll him in classes next semester and in the meantime try to get him the makeup work so he doesn't fall so far behind. I think she's kind of relieved that she won't have to deal with him. Talked to me about urges teenage boys have and how she thinks it'll be good for him to be out from underneath Saint Joan's thumb."

"You going to put in an offer on the loft downstairs?"

"We are going to put in an offer on the downstairs loft, sunshine."

"Equal partners?"

"Equal partners, kiddo. No bank would grant you a loan but they'll grant me one and your name will be on the title."

"I think you're doing the right thing, Brian."

"Doing the right thing often fucks my life up." Remember Stockwell?

"And sometimes it makes things all better," Justin reminded him. "Sometimes it reminds you that you haven't lost everything."

At his words, Brian took a step forward, cocking his head as he heard the blaring music, and laughed genuinely. "I think John thought we were going to fuck, Sunshine." He turned more serious as he met his lover's gaze and said, "Shouldn't disappoint the kid, now should we?"

Justin smiled brilliantly at him. "No."

He spread a towel on the floor and lay down on his stomach, legs spread apart. Brian glanced down at his lover's form and then knelt down next to him. "Something's wrong with this picture."

"What?"

Brian smiled as he said with a straight face, "You're not on top."

Justin turned over and looked up at Brian. He found himself hesitating and saw Brian's expression change. "You not in the mood?" he snapped.

Fuck. Fuck. In answer, Justin opened the shower door and retrieved a condom packet and the tube of lube. He watched as Brian lay on his back, looking up at him. "Slow, baby. I want this to last."

They'd fucked a thousand times or more, Justin knew, but this was different. It dawned on him as he looked down at Brian that this would be the first time they'd made love, knowing that they both loved each other. Seemed the realization occurred to Brian as well because he said, "I love you, Justin. I don't regret telling you."

"I love you, Brian," Justin whispered. He lay down next to Brian and they turned onto their sides so they faced each other. Brian's expression was questioning and Justin ran a hand down his arm, over the curve of his hip, and down his thigh. "You sure?"

"I think that's the first time you've ever asked me that."

"I just don't want to do anything you don't want to do. I want to be sure that this is what you really want and isn't coming out of the mess that we're dealing with."

Brian put a finger to his lips and Justin's tongue darted out to lick it. Brian smiled as Justin's mouth opened up to take his finger inside, sucking it as he did his lover's dick. Brian pulled his finger free and met his lover's eyes. "I'm sure. You know how you once said that this was the place we first made love?"

"Yeah," Justin said, in a near whisper.

Brian shook his head, "All that's come before is just practice. This is the real deal."

Tears shone in Justin's eyes as he stared in shock at Brian. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's romantic, Brian."

"Yeah, well, I know it's not candlelight and roses and a string quartet but it's the best I can do." He heard the words and realized he was falling back on his old companions of sarcasm and dry humor.

Justin laid a finger to Brian's lips and met the hazel eyes. He saw trepidation in the hazel depths and said, "I've had candlelight and roses and a string quartet, Brian. I'd rather have you than any of that. Just you. Only you."

"That's incredibly sappy, Sunshine. Way to ruin the moment," he teased.

Justin turned so that his face was near Brian's dick and his own was near Brian's mouth. Recognizing the maneuver and realizing what his lover wanted, Brian smiled slightly. I can do this, he thought. He felt Justin's tongue on his cock and then Brian stopped thinking. He gently stroked his lover's cock, feeling it jump under the gentle touch and smiled again. The day he couldn't have that affect on the blond would be the day he'd throw in the towel. He opened his own mouth and licked the underside of Justin's silky shaft in long, leisurely strokes as he felt Justin offer the same ministration to his own.

In the living room, John found himself scrolling through the hundreds of television channels finally coming across an old rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond. He couldn't help wondering when Brian and Justin would emerge from the bathroom. Christ, they'd been in there long enough, he thought. He was laughing along with the audience when the phone rang, disturbing him. John cast a glance at the closed bathroom door and figured there was no harm in answering the phone. The men were clearly engrossed in their own nocturnal activities.

"Hello," he said, forgetting to check the caller ID display.

"Hello, John," a familiar voice said. "You think I don't know who you told about our little adventure. What do you think your grandmother would say if she knew that you got off on it? That you liked it as much as I did. And that her son fucked her favorite minister."

"You sick fuck," John breathed. "Leave me alone!" He ended the conversation and glanced at the closed bathroom door, figuring that he'd given them enough time to reacquaint themselves with each other's bodies. He looked at the Bose audio system and turned down the music as he made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door.

Both men were drawing close to an orgasm, when they heard the knock on the door become increasingly insistent. Brian jacked Justin's dick as he sucked, digging his tongue into the piss slit as he felt the blond do the same to his own. Justin shot before Brian did, and Brian welcomed the warm flow of jizz as he felt his balls unload in Justin's mouth and him swallow.

Satiated, the two sat up and glanced at each other, with dopey smiles on their faces. "Fucking hot," Brian breathed as he glanced at his lover.

"Yeah. Love the taste of jizz in the morning," Justin quipped. He heard the knock on the door and then heard John's voice, "Come on guys. Stop fucking."

Brian recognized the panicky note in his nephew's voice and saw a worried expression on Justin's. Reaching underneath him for the towel, Brian wrapped it around his waist and Justin did the same with a fresh one. Brian opened the door and saw his nephew's pale and panicky expression. It reminded him vaguely of the day he'd come home and found out that Justin had run into the fucker Chris Hobbs at the hospice.

"What's wrong?" Brian asked, leading his nephew to the bed. For once, he didn't care that he was getting the duvet and sheets wet.

John let loose a strangled sob and Brian looked at Justin. "I'll make some tea," Justin said.

Brian only nodded, grateful that his lover knew what to do. His country-club upbringing came in handy sometimes. "It's okay," Brian murmured, voice soothing as it only became when he was trying to calm Gus down and prevent a tantrum. "Tell me what happened."

"I just," John gulped and then said, hiccoughing, "heard from Father Padraic. He said he was going to tell Grandma that I enjoyed what he did to me. That I got off on it. And he was going to tell her how you fucked her favorite minister."

Brian felt himself go hot and then the familiar Kinney ice began to flow. "Is that all he said?"

"I hung up on him, Brian."

Justin handed John a cup of tea and then handed one to Brian, saying only, "There's more Beam in yours than tea, Bri."

"Thanks, Sunshine," Brian said, returning his attention to his nephew who was now shaking. "It's okay, kid. He can't hurt you."

Justin wore a questioning expression and Brian met his eyes, as he said in explanation, "Father Patrick called to tell John that he was going to tell the martyr how he enjoyed being raped by him."

"Shit," Justin breathed and Brian nodded wryly. "That about sums it up."

Brian looked down at his nephew who still looked pale and said, "I'm going to call my friend Debbie's boyfriend, John. I'm going to tell him what happened."

"Do I have to go home to Mom?" John asked, a pleading expression on his face.

"No," Brian said. "She's okay with you staying here. In fact, I think you can stay here for the long haul unless you don't want to. If my life with Justin makes you uncomfortable, you just say the word and you can go home."

"I had a friend at school who is gay, Brian. I know that not everyone is a perv or scary. You're not."

"Thanks," he said dryly.

"I just mean that I know you're not into weird shit. So I really don't have to go home to Mom and see Grandma?"

"You don't have to see anyone you don't want. That includes your grandmother," Brian said, resolving to keep his nephew as far away from his grandmother as he could. The last thing the kid needed right now was to hear his grandmother espousing the virtues of the Catholic Church. "Stay here with Justin while I make the call."

He glanced at the digital readout of the bedside clock. "Deb's going to kill me for disturbing her beauty sleep."

"I think she'll understand, Bri."

Brian walked downstairs and found the phone where John had dropped it. He scrolled through the incoming call readout and realized that the bastard had called from the Diocese. Brazen fucker, Brian thought. He dialed Deb's number which hadn't changed from that of his childhood. When the sleepy voice of Deb came through the phone, Brian said without introduction, "Is Carl there?"

Debbie squinted at the readout of her clock and then said, "Brian, do you know what time it is?"

Like mother, like son, he thought. "Yes, Deb," he said with a patience he was far from feeling, "I know what time it is. Is Carl there?"

Recognizing the desperate note in Brian's voice, Debbie struggled to a sitting position and turned on her lamp. "He's at the station. He pulled a double shift today. Baby, what's wrong?" Her earlier ire at him for what was happening with Michael went unmentioned.

"Police business," Brian said, not really wanting to get into it with her. "Does he have a direct line? I don't really want this call to go through the central phone system."

Debbie reached for the small phone directory she kept in the drawer of her night table and thumbed through until she reached the 'H's. She rattled off the number and he said, "Thanks."

"No problem, kiddo." She paused a moment and then said, "Brian, I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

"I'll fill you in later, I promise. Thanks, Deb."

"Yeah," she said, then realized she was listening to dead silence. She hung up the phone and turned off her light, settling back into an uneasy sleep as she wondered what Brian needed with her boyfriend.

Brian sat down at his desk and waited as the phone rang. "Horvath."

Relieved that he hadn't gotten the aging detective's voice mail, Brian said, "It's Kinney, Carl."

Carl sat down at his desk and said, "Brian, what's wrong?" He knew something had to be dire when Brian Kinney enlisted his aid.

"You know what's going on with my nephews, right?"

"Yeah, I heard something about it. That's fucked up, Brian. So why are you calling me?"

"The sick fuck who raped my older nephew just called the loft and threatened him."

Suddenly Carl became more alert, reaching for his cup of coffee and taking a deep swallow of the tepid brew. "What exactly did he say, Brian?"

"That John would be sorry for saying anything. That he enjoyed it and he'd be sure to tell my mother that. That he'd also tell my mother that I fucked her minister, who she regards as a son."

Carl set down the mug and narrowed his eyes. "Um, you fucked your mom's priest?"

"I didn't know, Carl. He was naked and, hell, you know the rest. The point is the sick fuck knows he's staying with me. And he's threatening the safety of my nephew. Can't we do something about that?"

"I don't know that I can get a warrant to put a tap on your phone. And, frankly, I don't know if you'd want me to do that."

Brian narrowed his own eyes and cursed aging cops with lingering homophobia. "I have a partner, remember?"

"Yes, Brian, I remember. But I also know that you haven't always and that you aren't a stranger to paying hustlers for sex."

Fucking Michael, Brian thought angrily. "I haven't done that in months. If you run my credit cards and my internet account you'll see that the most dangerous or nearly illegal thing I've done in months is charge a shitload at Armani and Prada. Not that it's any of your fucking business."

"Okay, Brian, calm down. I didn't mean to piss you off. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, I suggest you keep your nephew off the phone. If the bastard calls again, let me know."

"Frankly, it bothers me that he knows where I live and that John is staying with me."

"You want me to put you boys up in a hotel room? Would that make you feel any better?"

Brian thought about the suggestion for a moment and then shook his head, feeling foolish as he realized Carl couldn't see the gesture. "No, I can do that myself. Maybe a few nights at the Hilton will do the boy some good. He can veg out and forget about all the hard shit."

"If you decide to do that, let the cops know." Carl hesitated a moment and then said, "I've never known you to run scared, though."

"The boy's fourteen," Brian reminded him. "Fourteen and scared shitless."

"The 'boy' also accused you of molesting him, not so long ago."

"He's not crying wolf, Carl. The boy has been fucking traumatized by this. You saw the detailed statement he gave the cops when he accused me. He wouldn't know all that if he wasn't telling the truth."

"Okay, okay," Carl said. "I don't think a priest is likely to fuck with you, Brian. You can be a scary fucker when you want to be."

"Thanks, I think."

"I'll tell the cops on duty and make sure a report is made. Keep them updated."

"They didn't seem to care much once they heard my name. Seems Stockwell still has a long reach."

"Yeah, the boys in blue have a long memory and a lot of us are old dogs who had a lot of respect for the man, Brian. But that shouldn't prevent us from doing our job. I'll keep an eye out and make sure that the cops assigned to your nephews' case are doing their job. You've got my word on that."

Since Horvath's word was as good as platinum, Brian said, "Okay. Thanks."

He hung up the phone and looked up to find both Justin and John standing beside him. "You hear all that?"

Both nodded and Brian said, "It's late. I've got to make an appearance at the office tomorrow and I think you've got class, Sunshine."

"I can skip it," Justin suggested.

Brian shook his head. "No way," he said, eyes reminding his lover that it was he who was financing his education.

"Does that mean I'm gonna be stuck here by myself until you two get home?"

Brian and Justin met each other's eyes and then looked at the teen. "You can either go with Justin to the Institute. Or you can come with me to Kinnetik. I can put you to work running off stuff."

"For free?" John asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

"No," Brian said, grinning at his nephew. "I'll pay you, you little shit. And it'll keep you safe and under my watchful gaze."

"I don't need a babysitter," John snarked. "I'm fourteen, you know."

"Yeah, kid, so you keep telling us. You think about it and let me know. Now go to bed."

John headed to the pile of blankets that covered the futon mattress and retrieved the goose-down comforter and the earplugs. He climbed fully clothed into the nest and curled up in a fetal position, knees drawn up to his chest. "You can have the bed, John."

John turned to face Brian and shook his head. "I'm fine here. You guys take the bed."

He started to put the earplugs in and Brian said, "Your mom said that she has a friend at work who can bring your twin bed over. Do you want to do that?"

"Yeah," he said eagerly and Brian couldn't help smiling at the kid's enthusiasm. "Thanks, Uncle Brian."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, kid, I thought I told you to stop calling me Uncle Brian."

"Okay, Brian," he said, smiling as he put the earplugs in his ears.

Brian turned off the computer and lowered the volume on the ringer as he carried the portable phone up to their bedroom. "You think he's going to call again?" Justin asked in a low voice.

"I don't know," Brian admitted. He let the towel drop to the floor and watched as Justin did the same. He slid into bed and waited silently as Justin slid in on his side. Brian moved closer to him and nestled his nose in Justin's damp hair. "God, you smell good," he murmured.

"You still horny?"

Brian hesitated a moment and then pulled the covers back as he stood. He proceeded to close all the panels that enclosed the bedroom before returning to bed. Justin watched his actions and wondered at them. Brian turned onto his side facing Justin. "I don't want to fuck the kid up more, Justin. I don't want to traumatize him."

"I think the kid has a natural curiosity about what you and I do in bed, Brian. He asked me how often I jacked off, thinking about you. I think he's confused and scared by what happened but I think he's also intrigued by us, despite the vitriol he's been fed by his mother and grandmother."

Justin slid a hand between their bodies and trailed his fingers through the nest of Brian's chestnut pubic hair. "What are you doing?" Brian whispered.

"Killing you with kindness."

Brian turned onto his other side and reached for a condom and the bottle of lube when he hesitated. He looked over his shoulder at Justin and said, "I'm ready, are you?"

"What about talking to Miranda first? And the three months?"

"I don't think I can wait that long."

"I'm starting to feel guilty for suggesting we fuck raw."

At the words, Brian lay back against the pillows and Justin moved so that he was lying astride him. He trailed his fingers through Justin's hair and said, "I was pissed the first time you suggested it because you were so young. And I wasn't exactly fucking only you. But ever since the diagnosis, I've been cutting back. And before the ride, I realized that a lot of times I only wanted to fuck you. There were times I went to the baths and could get hard but couldn't get off."

"Huh?"

"Fuck you, twat. It doesn't happen to me often but it does happen." Brian's eyes dared him to make an old age crack. "And then I'd get home and you'd go down on me and it was like a frigging missile launch. One touch of your mouth on me and I'd shoot geysers."

"What are you saying?"

"That it's better with you than with anyone else. Because it means something and it's not just fucking."

Justin slowly shifted and felt Brian move underneath him. Their cocks brushed against each other and they met each other's gaze. "Are you sure?"

"No. But I want to feel that with you. It's been a long time since I've had someone's cum-load up my ass, Justin. I've always been the one delivering the load."

Justin licked the long column of his throat and sucked on the place where throat met neck, then began to slowly progress down Brian's torso. He twisted one of Brian's nipples and felt the man wince at the pain, even as the nubbin began to harden under his touch. He did the same to the other and then replaced his finger with his mouth as he licked the area around the areola and then took the hardened point into his mouth, sucking lightly at first and then with greater intensity. Brian bucked on the bed and Justin paused for a moment, feeling him settle back down. "Don't stop," he hissed. The condom lay forgotten for the moment on the bed next to him as he was lost in the sensations Justin was providing to him. Leaving his nipples alone for the moment, he felt Justin's tongue trail down his treasure line, nose nestling into his pubes. He couldn't help shuddering and saw Justin look up at him. "Keep going," he ordered.

Justin felt Brian's cock under his cheek and avoided it with an effort that seemed Herculean in nature. Brian was fully aware that his lover was prolonging this as long as possible. Justin licked the curvature of his hip and then proceeded to trail his tongue along his thigh, finally reaching his ankle, licking the ankle bone. Brian couldn't help groaning as his eyes went dark. He was nearly ready to beg to be fucked. Justin turned his attention to the other side of Brian's body, noticing when Brian shifted, spreading his legs wider.

He paused and looked up at him. "Well?"

"Suck my dick," Brian ordered.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to suck my cock," he all but growled. He saw the faint hint of a smile grace Justin's lips and nearly snarled at him. He knew the young blond was playing him and for the moment he couldn't complain about being played.

"Really?"

"Hey, twat, I want you to suck my fucking cock. Now."

"Yes, sir."

Justin flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin encasing Brian's balls and then drew one inside his mouth, rolling it slightly, tonguing it before turning his attention to the other. He could no longer tell which one was prosthetic and frankly, at this point in the game, he couldn't have cared.

Brian writhed underneath the insistent motion of Justin's tongue, hands fisting so tightly in Justin's hair that he feared it might be painful for the young blond. He was so lost in the sensation that he gasped when he felt Justin's hand brush against his cock as he continued to concentrate his attention on his sac.

Finally, Justin licked the vein that ran along the underside of Brian's shaft, from base to tip. He opened his mouth and went down on him as Brian bucked up off the bed, forcing his cock deeper in Justin's mouth. Justin, recognizing his lover's need, relaxed his throat muscles. He didn't want Brian to shoot just yet and he knew how close his lover was, so he pressed down on the spot behind his balls, to prevent an early orgasm.

Brian settled as Justin began to concentrate his attention on the flared head, gently flicking his tongue at the tip. "Jesus fucking Christ, Justin," Brian moaned. He had never wanted his lover as much as he did at that moment. At that moment, Brian would have done just about anything Justin asked of him. No pride, no dignity, just lost in the sensation of his lover's adoration of him. Brian was freely leaking pre-cum and felt Justin's tongue swirl around the sensitive head. He gripped the sheets so tightly he feared he'd pull them loose from the mattress.

Justin was fully aware of how close his lover was and slowly eased off, so that the head of Brian's cock rested on his tongue. Then he let him spring free as Brian glanced at him in shock. "What-what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, sitting back on his heels. "I just want to see you jack off."

"You dirty boy."

"Well, you once told me to have balls, so I'm asking you for what I want. I want you to bathe me in your jizz."

Brian grinned at him and said, "I've taught you well, grasshopper."

"Well?"

Brian paused for a moment and then smirked. He ran his hand up and down his shaft, using the pre-cum he was freely leaking as lubricant, eyes locked on his lover's. He gently ran his hand up and down the shaft, noting just how sensitive he was. He could see from the gleam in Justin's eyes that he was fully aware of the effect he was having on him. Cocky little fucker, Brian thought, as he began to move his hand faster on his cock.

Justin watched his lover whacking off and his tongue peeked out from between his two pink lips, hand drifting down to his own cock as he watched Brian. He was fully aware that he was closer than Brian was, that he'd been close to the edge since he'd sucked him. That taste was something he'd never get rid of; it was burned into his brain.

Brian's hand was moving at a blur as Justin matched the frequency of his lover's motions. He bit his lip as he felt his load surge up from his balls and began to shoot. His first shot landed on the tip of his nose, and his eyes turned inward trying to see where it was. "On me, Sunshine. Shoot on me," Brian instructed as he moved his hand even faster, knowing as he did so that the sight of Justin shooting on him would push him over the edge.

Justin did as his lover ordered and milked his balls dry as Brian followed suit, moments later. Brian aimed high so that his jizz bathed Justin's chin, some dripping down to land in the hollow of his throat, reminding him of a diamond. He glanced at his lover and saw the blond's eyes were glazed with lust. Justin reached for the corner of the sheet to wipe the gleaming pearls from his chest and Brian shook his head. Giving him a curious glance, Brian said only, "Wet and sticky."

Justin gave him a questioning glance and Brian sighed. At the familiar sound, Justin realized there was a story behind his lover's request. "I once told Michael that it's really love when you want to lie with your lover all wet and sticky after he's shot." Not sure what he expected, Brian became quiet after the admission. Sometimes Justin's reactions were volatile when it came to Michael.

Justin straddled him, tongue tracing his bottom lip, nipping gently at it. He met Brian's eyes and tilted his head back, a familiar move that was as much a request as an order. Brian recognized it for what it was and licked at the droplet of cum that had landed in the hollow his lover's throat. He licked his lips and then kissed Justin, amused when Justin sucked the traces of cum from his tongue.

"So you really love me?" Justin said when Brian broke the kiss.

"You've got no reason to doubt it," Brian quietly admitted. "I may not say it all the time. But I couldn't have gotten through these past few days without you by my side."

"We're better together than we are apart."

Brian nodded and glanced down at his own torso which was streaked with Justin's cum. "You were storing jizz, weren't you?"

Justin laughed and then began to slowly lick the cum from Brian's chest, some transferring from his torso to Justin's chin as Brian's eyes darkened again. Justin lifted his head and Brian pulled him towards him, ignoring the sudden flash of pain. He licked Justin's chin and was rewarded when the blond smiled at him. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and lit one. He took a drag and then handed it to Justin. Justin took a drag, and then rested his head on Brian's chest as the older man smoked silently. It may have been a cliché but it was an experience they'd shared together since the very beginning. When the cigarette was little more than a stub, Brian finally crushed it out. He slid down and Justin moved with him. Brian moved his legs apart and Justin was able to settle between them, Brian moving one leg so he anchored Justin in place, twining their limbs together. "I wanted you to fuck me," he admitted. "But this was good too."

"Glad you enjoyed it," Justin said, fatigue creeping into his tone.

"Sleep now, baby," Brian said as he hit the button to turn off the blue neon lights. He wrapped his arms around Justin, holding the blond to him. He eased into sleep as the hour crept closer to dawn.

John was the first to awaken, pulled from sleep by nature's insistent call. He crept up the stairs, noticing that his uncle slept with Justin on top of him, arms holding him so close that he didn't think anything could pry them apart. He noticed the wet towels on the floor in the bathroom and hung them up, figuring they'd been forgotten.

He peed and was creeping back into the bedroom to return to his pile of covers when he noticed that his uncle was awake. "You sleep okay?" Brian whispered, a hand caressing Justin's creamy white back, an absent motion that conveyed the tenderness he felt for his lover.

"Yeah," John whispered. "Thanks for not treating me like a scared kid."

"I think you're pretty fucking brave, kid," Brian said, recognizing the words as ones he'd once uttered to Justin so long ago. It seemed a lifetime ago now.

John smiled slightly. "Um, if your offer still stands I'd like to go with you to Kinnetik."

Brian nodded and said, "No problem. Cynthia will show you the ropes."

"You have anything around here to eat for breakfast? I'm starving."

Brian smiled and realized that he'd have another hungry young 'un to feed. He could see the amount of his grocery bill increasing incrementally. "Yeah, there should be some cereal. We could catch something on the road if you wanted to."

John smiled and spoke quietly, "You really love him, don't you, uncle Brian?"

Brian pulled the sheet up over Justin as he noticed the blond's skin was pimpling with goose bumps. "Yeah. I'd do just about anything for him, John. He's my soul."

John didn't know quite what to say to that so he crept silently down the stairs. "Hey, kid," Brian stage-whispered.

Turning around to face his uncle, John said, "Yeah?"

"You know how to make coffee?"

John nodded. Brian slipped out of bed and John flushed as he realized that Brian was fully nude. Noticing his nephew's reaction, Brian grabbed for a pair of sweatpants. Never being embarrassed of his nudity and having flashed nearly everyone in their small community, Brian nevertheless felt guilty as he gave his nephew an unintentional view of the full Kinney package.

"Sorry," Brian muttered.

John was speechless. "Um," he murmured. Holy Christ, he thought. And Justin takes that up his ass?

Brian glanced at his nephew and then wryly said, "It's not like you've never seen one before, kid. Stop gawking."

Jolted out of his reverie, John could only glare at him. "I just-" he began, then finally settled on saying, "Fuck you, Brian. I just didn't expect to be flashed."

For the first time, Brian considered the possibility that the priest's words, however maliciously delivered, might have merit. He reached for a copy of the Rage comic which had JT melting Rage's cold heart and tossed it to John. "What do you think about that?"

John flushed and looked down at the cover. His eyes lingered for a moment and Brian felt a dawn of recognition. If the kid wasn't intrigued, he'd have dropped the comic to the floor and been obviously appalled. John flipped through the pages and stopped on a section that had JT paying lavish attention to Rage's dick. He looked at his uncle and handed the comic back to him. His hands went to cover his package and then he turned tail and ran into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Brian followed him and could hear the great gulping sobs from inside the bathroom. Shit, Kinney, that wasn't kind. He knew full well that Justin was the better person to handle this. He glanced at his sleeping lover who had cuddled his pillow like a teddy bear and then back at the bathroom door. Seemed it was up to him. He turned the knob, relieved when it opened. He'd figured the kid would lock the door behind him. He saw John standing in the shower jacking off. Well, fuck me, he thought, turning away. He knew the instant John realized he wasn't alone in the bathroom. "Get the fuck out!"

"My bathroom, John. You need to jack off there's no need to hide like a scared little girl in the bathroom. We're all men, here."

John gave his uncle a baleful look, then reached for a washcloth to wipe his dick clean. "My mom says it's a nasty, filthy habit," he finally said.

"It's perfectly natural," he responded. "You've got the Kinney package, John. That's nothing to be ashamed of. You should be pretty fucking proud that you didn't get stinted in that department."

"You shouldn't have looked."

"You don't really think I'm going to hurt you, do you?"

John hesitantly shook his head. "I'm just not used to someone as comfortable with their sexuality as you are. I've always been taught that masturbation is wrong, no matter the circumstance."

"Did the comic book turn you on or was it just because it's early in the morning and you sprung a wood?"

"I don't know," he answered miserably.

Brian took a deep breath and then said, "Do you want to find out?"

"Mom says I should find a good little Catholic girl and marry her and have babies. That's what I should want."

"What do you want, John? Forget about your mom and the church and your grandmother for a minute. Just think about what you, John Padraic Brennan, want."

John crept out of the shower and closed the toilet, so he was sitting on it, the towel covering his genitals. He finally met his uncle's eyes. "What the priest did made me feel dirty but I shot my load, Brian. When I looked at the picture on the comic, I got hard. But I get hard when I look at pictures of girls like Lindsay Lohan too. I think about sex all the time."

"Natural. All teenage boys are horny, John. It's a fact of life. I'd be worried if you weren't jacking off."

"I'm confused!"

Join the club, kid, Brian thought, but wisely refrained from saying it. "I knew when I was fourteen that I was gay, John. I'd go into the locker room and compare my dick to the other guys, knowing that I had most of them beat in that department. I got hard watching them soap themselves up, watching them soap their dick and balls. But when I saw the coach watching me through his office window one afternoon, I knew that here was someone who could grant me what I was dreaming about at night. The images that I was jacking off to didn't involve girls. And it was good with the coach at first. He told me all the things I didn't hear from my old man. And I'll never forget the first time he fucked me."

"Didn't you ever date a girl, Brian?"

"My son's mother, Lindsay. I dated her in college. We were involved for a little while and she got pregnant. She ended up losing the baby, though. And I knew she was a dyke before she did and then I dropped the news on her that I preferred dick."

"It was weird when I kissed Stacy Burke at school, Brian," John admitted. "She felt odd to me."

Brian suppressed a sigh. "Experimentation is good. I did a lot of experimenting. I was fifteen the first time I fucked another guy, John. It changed me, but I knew that was what I wanted. That the mere thought of having my dick up another guy's ass was what made me hard."

John stared at his uncle and quietly said, "Is it okay that I don't know who I want?"

"Yeah, kid, it's okay. I'm not trying to push you into either mold. If you like girls, that's fine. If you like boys, that's fine. If you like both, that's okay, too. But at some point you're going to be confronted with a situation where you have control and you're not being dominated by some fucking pervert like Father Patrick."

"I saw your porn that day I took your bracelet," John admitted. "And the beads."

"I heard what you said to Justin about the beads. How do you know about that?"

"Um, Father Patrick showed me a magazine and then a video."

Motherfucker, Brian thought, feeling the rage rise. "I'm sorry, John. This is no way for a kid to learn about his sexual identity."

"You knew when you were fourteen," John reminded him.

"Yeah, I did. That doesn't mean I want you to follow in my footsteps, John. I've made a lot of mistakes over the years. I've put myself in situations that were dangerous. I've played Russian roulette with my health."

John stared hard at him, and Brian finally flinched under the gaze. "I'm terrified."

"You can talk to me, you know. I'm not going to go run and get the Bible every time you have a question about sex. I'm not going to punish you for whacking off. And as long as you're honest with me about where you're going and what you're doing, I'm not going to be riding your ass." Brian paused and then said, "Okay, bad choice of words but you know what I mean. I'm not your mother, John. I'm probably the easiest person to talk to about sex because I've been where you're standing. And you can talk to Justin. He's a pretty cool guy."

"Is he still going to California?"

"He says no but he still needs to talk to the producer."

"Do you want him to go?"

"No," Brian admitted.

"Scared to be alone with me?" asked John, with a smirk.

"Little asshole," Brian said, and then grimaced as he realized he'd used one of Debbie's favorite insults. "Sorry. No, I'm not scared to be alone with you. I'll just miss him if he goes."

"You're really in love with him, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. But I haven't always felt that way about him. He's always felt that way about me but it took me longer to come to the same conclusion."

"Scared?"

"Yeah, I was fucking terrified of falling in love with Justin. Our relationship bothers a lot of people, John. He's twenty-one now, but at the beginning, everyone thought I was nuts, including me." He glanced at his nephew and said, "Get dressed and I'll buy you breakfast."

"What about Sunshine?" John said.

"My nickname for him," Brian corrected. "That's my nickname for him. Mikey calls him boy wonder but Sunshine is mine."

Recognizing the deadly serious tone of his uncle's voice, John nodded. "Can we get pancakes?"

"Yeah, kid, we can get pancakes," Brian responded. He watched John make a hasty retreat, pulling on his jeans and then rifling through his backpack for a clean t-shirt.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and glanced down at his sleeping lover. He tucked the sheet closer to Justin's body and gently kissed him on the forehead. He wrote a note letting him know that he'd taken John to breakfast and then they were heading into Kinnetik.

He opened the doors to his closet and removed a burgundy shirt and a charcoal tie, then reached for his Armani charcoal slacks and jacket. Finally dressed, he knelt down and retrieved a box from underneath his bed. He removed his cowry shell bracelet.

"Brian, what are you doing?" John asked.

Brian startled and then said, "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on people?"

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

"I wanted to see why mom and grandma hated your life so much."

"It never occurred to you to just ask me?"

"You hated me."

"Yeah, well," Brian sighed. "Yeah, I guess I did. I haven't handled dealing with you and your brother very well, have I?"

John shook his head and smiled ruefully. "Well, neither have I. I found the beads and some porn tapes when I looked under your bed when you were in the shower. I saw the fake cocks."

"Dildos," Brian corrected him, and then felt himself blush. "Those fake cocks are called dildos."

"I do believe that the great sex god is embarrassed," John crowed.

Reminded slightly of Justin at seventeen, by the mocking tone of John, Brian glared at him and said, "Let's just go get some fucking breakfast."

"Can you say a sentence without using that word, Brian?"

"I don't know. I've never had to try," he said, aware his tone was snarky.

"Want to make a bet?"

Brian's eyes narrowed as he followed his nephew down the stairs. He stopped to grab his cell phone, his wallet, and his keys and then opened the loft door and closed it quietly behind him, stopping to lock it. Once they were en route to the restaurant, Brian asked, "So what's the bet?"

"If you can go all day without saying the word 'fucking' or 'fuck', I'll clean the loft."

"And if I can't?"

"You have to buy me an I-Pod."

Brian laughed. "You're on, kid."

Since he fully expected to win the bet, Brian was full of his usual cockiness. Perhaps he shouldn't have been.

He watched with amusement as John dug into a pile of Belgian waffles. The kid definitely had an appetite and he ate as if he was starving. The waitress poured him another cup of coffee and Brian drank the coffee quietly.

When John finally ate the last saturated bite of waffle, Brian felt relief. He glanced at his watch and said, "You ready to go?"

John nodded. "So your office is an old bathhouse? What exactly does that mean?"

How to explain this delicately, he wondered. "It's a place where gay men went to congregate and have anonymous sex. There were various rooms for various activities."

John stared at him and Brian felt uncomfortable. "What else?"

"Um, some of the rooms had drains in the floor and others had sunken tubs for other activities. Some had showers."

John sagely nodded and Brian felt relieved that his nephew wasn't asking more prying questions. John was fully aware that his uncle had to watch his words in the explanation and thought that he'd have no trouble winning the wager. Somehow he'd figured out that his uncle hated losing.

When Justin woke up, he found the loft empty. He rolled over and found the note Brian had left him. Padding naked downstairs, he felt slightly itchy and then remembered that he hadn't showered after his late night sortie with Brian. He poured a bowl of cereal and then sat cross-legged on one of the pillows as he watched a morning cartoon.

He finished the cereal and was rinsing the bowl out when he heard a knock on the front door. Not expecting anyone, he padded naked to the front door, rationalizing that if Brian could do it so could he. He opened the door and was greeted with the unwelcome early morning visit of Hunter.

"Dude, go put some fucking pants on," Hunter said, forcing his way inside.

Justin rolled his eyes and returned upstairs to put his sweatpants on. When he returned he found Hunter flipping through the channels.

"Why are you here?" Justin asked, in a world-weary tone.

Hunter inhaled and then smiled cockily. "You smell," he said.

"How observant of you," Justin drawled. "Brian and I fucked all night long. What do you want, Hunter? Did your daddy send you?"

Hunter glared at him and said, "No, Michael and the professor don't know I'm here. I want to find out if you can fix the problem between Michael and the stud."

"That's between them, Hunter."

"And you can't tell me that you don't have any influence with the stud, Boy Wonder. You are the one sharing his bed, after all."

Justin narrowed his eyes and said, "What the fuck did Mikey tell you, rent-boy?"

"Just that Brian made him give him his key and told him that you were his family."

"Your foster father likes to watch my lover in action, rent-boy. And don't call me Boy Wonder. I hate that fucking nickname."

"Then don't call me rent-boy. I'm retired."

"But you'd be more than willing to come out for one last performance if Brian gave you the slightest bit of encouragement."

"Yep," Hunter said, grinning.

"Not gonna happen. What's going on with Michael and Brian has to be fixed by them. The last time I stepped in to fix things between them was the last time. Michael has fucked me over when it comes to me and Brian more times than I care to count. I have no desire to help him."

Hunter glared at him and said, "You know that if you really cared about the stud, you'd fix things between him and his best friend."

"Hunter, you have no idea how I feel about Brian. I'd do just about anything humanly possible for Brian. I love him that much. But I'm not going to step in to fix things between him and Michael. My relationship with Brian is not a three-way and neither is his relationship with Brian."

"But-"

Justin shook his head. "Go on to school, Hunter. You tried. Stay out of this."

Shrugging, Hunter said resignedly, "Okay, okay. You don't have to be an asshole. I'm going."

Justin shut the door behind Hunter and locked it. He picked up the portable phone and called the number for the superintendent. "Yes, this is Justin Taylor, Brian Kinney's partner. We need to get the call box downstairs fixed and we also need the locks changed."

He listened a moment and then said, "Thank you."

Half an hour later, Justin was clean and on his way to school. While he hated public transportation, there was no other choice when he hated the idea of Brian buying him a car. But he was beginning to realize that he just might have to bend a little. The presence of John Brennan was changing everything.

Return to Complications of the Mind