Finding Your Own Way Back

Chapter 10

Brian took his time returning to the loft, thinking about what Jennifer had said to him. It wasn't a ringing endorsement but at least she no longer thought of him as the Antichrist. He was deep in thoughts when he slid the loft door closed.

"You okay?" Justin asked. He'd been more than a little nervous when his mom had asked to speak to him alone. He remembered the last time his mom had cornered Brian. Then it had been to ask him to stay away from him. He only hoped that she wasn't running interference this time.

"I'm fine, Sunshine. I'm having lunch with your mom on Tuesday."

"What?!"

Brian sank down next to him on the couch. "She wants to get to know me better." The idea struck him as strange. "So we're having lunch. You know, that meal between breakfast and dinner." The idea baffled him.

Justin swatted him. "Don't be a smart ass. So you're having lunch with Mom. You scared?"

Brian met his eyes. "Yeah. I'm fucking terrified." Funny thing was he wasn't sure if he was scared or not. The idea hadn't really sunk in.

Justin smiled at the expression on his face. It was always interesting to see his reaction when he was taken out of his comfort zone. Lunch with Mom is definitely taking Brian out of his comfort zone, he thought.

"So you still want to go to Babylon on Wednesday?"

"It's Latin night," Brian said. "Salsa. The mambo. The lambada," he leered.

Then Justin said, "I don't think we can keep this quiet much longer, Brian. I don't want to be creeping in shadows because we don't want to be judged."

"I've never cared what anybody else thought," Brian said. "But I think it's time we proved a point to Liberty Avenue. And besides, it'll give the boys something to talk about at breakfast on Monday morning."

"What do you have in mind?" Justin asked.

Brian smiled mischeviously. "Well, I was thinking you could come in and sit down on my lap. Then we could proceed to make out until Debbie comes swatting at us with a dish towel. And we can give the boys in the backroom a reminder of just why it is that we are the two kings of Babylon."

"And at the office?"

Brian's mood turned serious. "Your mom's right, Sunshine. We have to be careful. That's not to say that you and I can't have an occasional quickie. I wouldn't mind you coming in and surprising me with a blow job. I've found that having an orgasm at least twice a day during the work day makes me more productive," he said, teasingly. "But it's important that people not clue in to the fact that we're fucking each other. I'm a partner but Gardner will always have superiority over me. And, damn if he doesn't wield that power with relish."

"I'm not going to blow this for you."

Brian looked down at his lap, then up at Justin, "Well, you might just blow one part of me."

Glancing over at Gus, Justin said, "You're kind of glad the Munchers are picking him up tonight, aren't you? Instead of in the morning."

"Truthfully?"

Justin nodded.

"Yeah, I am. I love spending time with Gus but I want to fuck you all night long. I want to take the time to savor you like we didn't do last night at the office. I want the opportunity to make you writhe with need," Brian said. Then he met Justin's eyes. "It's time to let everyone know that we're back together."

"Are we?"

"Are we what?"

"Are we back together?"

"Yeah in a way," Brian said. Don't turn this into a relationship discussion, Sunshine. It's too fucking early for that.

Content with that for now, Justin slid closer to him. They glanced over at Gus and saw that he'd collapsed on one of the pillows, the television screen gone blue as the end of the credits had rolled. "How long has he been asleep?"

"Not long. I'm sure I can fix him mac and cheese for dinner. I got some of that Velveeta shells and cheese kind. He prefers that to Kraft."

"Smart kid."

"As if any product of your genes would be less than a veritable genius," Justin said, knowing just how to stroke Brian's ego and other parts of the man's anatomy.

"You're good with my kid," he observed.

"Thanks, he's a good kid." Justin paused a moment, "You know I'd like one of my own someday. It bothers you when Melanie calls you an asshole in front of him."

"You got that, huh?"

Justin merely rolled his eyes. God save me from a sarcastic Brian.

"Yeah, it does. It fucking pisses me off when she cuts off my balls like that in front of Gus. He's still my fucking kid. It's my seed that made that little miracle happen and she's content to think it happened as if by immaculate fucking conception. But Gus is not a Christ child. He's a Kinney." He took a deep breath realizing that he was still smarting from the earlier encounter. "I'm trying my damndest to be a good father. It's not like Jack was any example of what fatherhood should be. What kind of impact will it have on him to know that one of his mommies hates his father?"

Justin lay his hand on top of Brian's, his head resting on his shoulder. "Lindsay makes sure he knows that you love him."

"And yet she lets her wife take my fucking balls every chance she gets. You know Melanie turned me down as a father for their second kid. Turned down the opportunity for Gus to at least have a half-sibling because it was me. Melanie resents the hell out of me and didn't want my sperm. It's not as if I were thrilled with the idea. But I was willing to do it. For Gus. And yet they turned to Michael. Michael whose partner has AIDS. Do you know how fucked up that is? Don't get me wrong, I like Ben. I think he's a great guy. Hell, I even fucked Ben, but I'm negative. And I'm always careful. What happens if the condom breaks and Michael gets a full shot of Ben's load?"

Since Justin agreed he simply nodded. There wasn't much he could say to that.

"I wonder why Lindsay asked me to father her child. She could have gone to a fucking sperm bank. It's kind of hard to get an erection in a sterile clinic where the only incentives are a stack of cum-stained Hustler magazines or Penthouse. Not a dick in sight." There were times he wondered why the hell he'd agreed. If Michael was right and it was simply because he'd been high as fuck when Lindsay had asked.

Wow, he's really pissed, Justin thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Brian this wound up. In fact, he usually got colder the angrier he got but this fire was definitely burning hot. This was like a cold fire. "Would have made Melanie happy I suppose." Justin felt Brian's arm go around him, pulling him closer.

"You think Lindz did it to piss Melanie off?"

"No, I think she didn't think I'd actually agree. I think she thought that I'd say yes then back out at the last minute." He remembered sitting in the hospital room with her the night Gus had been born, saying that he'd have fucked her if he didn't think her lover would beat the shit out of him. It had been a joke but there was truth to the comment also.

Justin snorted.

"What?"

"Just that you slept with her. More than once if you two are to be believed," he pointed out. "You'd think she'd know better than to underestimate you. You are Brian Kinney, after all."

"And Mini-Me over there has my genetic pool running through his veins. I'm the spawn of Black Jack and Saint Joan. What chance does Gus have?"

"Bri, you're not your dad," he said, reminded of the events of the previous night which had led to a miniature meltdown. Showing him a side of Brian which had alarmed him because it was so well-disguised.

Brian leaned back against the pillow cushion, looking absolutely dejected. "I just don't want to fuck it up. I don't want to fuck him up. I don't want him coming back to me twenty years down the road and hating me for not being around more. I want him to be proud of me."

The way your dad should have been of you, Justin thought. Funny how both of us are still wishing for the approval of our father's. Not to mention that of one from beyond the grave, he realized. He wondered just what had happened all those nights Brian would disappear and return home drunk as shit, talking nonsense about RBI's or the men at the union. Now, he realized, that was because Brian had spent time with Jack. How badly did our fathers fuck us up? He asked himself.

Brian knew he'd never really expressed his fears about Gus to anyone. Not even Michael. It meant a lot to him to be a good father especially since no one thought he would be. Brian stood, hunted for the pack of cigarettes, finally finding a pack squished between two seat cushions. Lighting one, he took a drag before handing it to Justin. "Could be a joint but I'm being good." Could be a fucking line, he thought.

Changing the subject seemed like a good idea so he said, "You ever get scared?"

"Like Freddy Krueger scared?"

Trust Brian to make a joke when he was asking a serious question. "No scared. Like bone deep scared."

Interesting that Justin asks me a question Stockwell asked me, Brian thought. He remembered getting in the hot tub with the smug, oily politician and feeling as though he were being bathed in acid. He'd never felt so unclean in his life; not even at one of the orgy rooms in the baths. But that wasn't what Justin wanted to know. Deciding to forego a glib answer in favor of the truth, he said, "Yeah. The night of the prom."

He could still feel the intensity and animosity of the students staring at him as he'd entered the ballroom. Thirty years old and he'd been scared down to the marrow. Scared of his feelings and what he was revealing to Justin. And of people's reactions. "I was terrified that I was going to be asked to leave. That I was making things worse for you." God, how many times have I relived that night in my head? How many times have I thought that I made the wrong decision? That standing there in that tux I'd never felt more naked in my life. Exposed myself to you for a moment of pure happiness that you don't remember and that I can't ever forget. But, of course, he didn't say any of that.

Meanwhile back at Muncher Villa…

Lindsay sank down on the sofa, kicking off her three-inch stiletto heels. Her feet ached and she could hear Melanie slamming around in the kitchen. The other woman slammed a cupboard door so hard she could hear the hinges squeak.

"Melanie, stop it."

Melanie blazed in, a small ball of barely contained fury. "Stop what, honey?" Sarcasm seeped from her like perfume.

"It's clear you're angry." Understatement of the year.

"No, I'm fucking pissed. You always, always put that asshole first. Do you still love him? Is that it? Are you secretly wishing that Brian would come riding in on a white charger and whisk you away to a castle in the clouds?" Melanie's tone was bitter. She would never be what some called a lipstick lesbian. She was far too scrappy, more of a street fighter. A bit like Brian if she'd ever let herself think about the man she'd deemed her mortal enemy with any semblance of rationality. They actually had a lot in common.

"Of course, I love him. I love him because he's my best friend. He's Gus's father."

"That's not what I meant," Melanie said, seething. "And you know it. Sometimes I think you've just been waiting for Brian like Sleeping Beauty waited on her prince in a glass fucking coffin."

"That's not fair," Lindsay said, eyes welling with fresh tears.

"Life's not fair, sweetheart. You know his comment about our sex life is accurate." Fucking asshole.

Angry now herself, Lindsay hissed, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You want the truth? Cause I'm not sure you can handle it."

A hesitant nod. Melanie proceeded, voice vicious, "You have a longer and better orgasm when you are fucked with a dildo than with a vibrator. You have to have the penetration or you don't come. It's not enough for me to go down on you. I'm not enough for you."

"Do you have to be graphic, Mel?"

"Honey, you don't know what graphic is. I'm just calling it as I see it." Melanie sighed, looking at her wife, thinking once again just how sheltered she'd been. "Lindsay, I've known I was a dyke since I was fourteen and realized the idea of dick repulsed me. I've been with two guys in my entire life and one raped me. The other was a drunken mistake at a frat party. I don't like dick. I never have. And yet your best friend, Brian, is a fag and he's fucked you more than once. I think he's right. How many times did he fuck you? I think on some level you question who you are."

"I don't know." She knew even as she said it that it was a lie. She could remember every single time she and Brian had sex.

"I had my first lesbian experience when I was sixteen, Lindz. Brian told you when you were twenty. Hell, it was with a friend of his that you had your first experience." And I went out looking for my own, she thought. And then I met Leda.

"I love you, Melanie."

"I know you do, honey. But I want my wife back."

"So do I," Lindsay said sadly.

They stared at each other, wondering exactly where to go from there. Lindsay studied her wife, saw the hurt and pain and fatigue in Melanie's eyes. Fear too. The kind of cold fear that ices your veins, slick and insidious.

She took a deep breath. "We need to talk to Brian."

"No."

The knot expanded so it felt like a fist in the ball of her stomach. "No?" she repeated.

Melanie's smile was sad. "You need to talk to him. Resolve your issues."

"I don't want Brian."

Yes, you do, Melanie thought. But the one good thing I can say about the asshole is he's never encouraged you. He's never cock-teased you like he did with Michael. Never gave you the idea that there was a chance of you two ending up with the dream of a white-picket fence and 2.5 kids. He's always been honest even when he posed as your husband when we were trying to get Gus into that school. What a French farce that turned out to be. "Talk to him. I'm going out for a while."

"Where?"

"Don't know. I just need some air. I won't be gone long."

As Melanie watched, she saw the shutters come down over Lindsay's eyes, blanking her expression. Lindsay sat in the easy chair for a long time, seconds passing into minutes without her noticing. The shrill sound of the phone ringing jolted her out of her near-trance.

"Hello," she said, weariness creeping into her voice like fog rolling in over the moors.

"Lindz, it's Brian."

Of course, she thought bitterly. Who else would it be? She deliberately smoothed her voice. "Bri." Voice cold as black ice and just as treacherous.

At the loft, Brian watched Justin playing with their son. He recognized the dispassionate tone Lindsay had adopted. He used a similar one.

"We need to talk."

It took all her considerable effort not to rip into him. To make him hurt as she was hurting. "Yeah, I know. How about we have lunch sometime this week?"

"Fine. Any day but Tuesday."

"Okay," she said. "Has Gus been good?"

Looking at Gus, he smiled. "He's been fine. He met Justin's mom today."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he charmed her."

Lindsay could hear the pride in his voice, pride in his son. "Well, he is your son."

"Yes, he is. I was going to give him a bath later. Is the shower OK?"

Lindsay leaned back on the couch, feeling the pain shoot through the ball of her ankle. Damn stilettos, she thought. They are murder on a woman's feet. "As long as you're in there with him. He loves being naked and hates getting dressed." Like his dad, she realized, thinking of how many times she'd dropped by the loft to find Brian unabashedly naked.

"Did you pack his PJ's?"

"Yeah, they should be in the diaper bag. He can be slippery. I can't tell you how many times he's taken off and he's slippery as a seal."

"Yep, he's my son."

She couldn't help laughing. Even when she was pissed as hell at him, he could turn on the Kinney charm and charm her out of her mood. Damn him. "See you later tonight. Mel and I are going to dinner. Tell Gus I love him."

"Yeah."

Back at the loft, Justin looked at him. "Lindsay and I are going to have lunch one day this week. Talk about stuff."

"She still pissed at you?"

"Not as much as she was."

Glancing at the wall clock, Brian saw it was late afternoon, nearing six p.m.. "Do you want to go ahead and order dinner?"

Justin nodded just as Gus said, "Daddy, I hungry."

Justin smiled at the two-year-old. "Want pizza, Gus?"

"Yeah, Jus'n," Gus clapped excitedly.

Brian merely rolled his eyes. There went the idea of macaroni and cheese. He remembered how often Emmett did the same thing. Gus was two. What the hell was Emmett's excuse? Though he gave the nelly queen a hard time he actually respected Emmett for being so out and proud.

"And what does Daddy want?"

"Pizza's fine," he said, resigned to the thought of the time he'd have to spend on the treadmill burning off the carbs. You, he thought. He wondered briefly if there would ever be a time he didn't feel a sexual draw between him and Justin. Nah. Not gonna happen.

"I think there's some leftover Thai in the fridge, if you'd rather have that," the blond informed him.

He nodded. "Pizza's fine, Justin." He handed him the phone, then said, "I need to check my e-mail. You mind keeping Gus occupied for a few minutes?"

Since it wasn't an order disguised as a request, Justin saw no harm in complying. "Sure. C'mon, Gus. I'm going to call the pizza place." He took the toddler by the hand and led him away from his Daddy.

Brian sat down at the computer desk, scrolling through e-mails, noting a few from the escort service he'd used. He wondered how Justin would feel knowing he'd pumped someone else while imaging Justin. He made a mental note to suspend services. Why pay for an imitation when the real thing is back in my life? He asked. Besides Justin was always better than any hustler, knew exactly what he liked and he didn't have to force himself to bring Justin off. That had been evidenced by their encounter in the shower. God that had been fucking hot, he remembered, seeing Justin looking up at him as he lapped the cum out of the palm of his hand. God knew, the only time Justin had been with a hustler it had been a disaster of epic proportions, leaving the door open for Ian, leaving Brian feeling as if he were drowning, gasping for air. And nursing wounds to heart and pride. He supposed one day he'd have to admit just what it had done to him. And he'd had to cope alone because everyone thought their break-up was his fault because Sunshine could do no wrong. Nice support system, he thought bitterly.

He heard Gus giggle at something Justin had said and saw the teen had removed ingredients for salad from the refrigerator. Good, he thought, Sonny Boy'll have some vegetables tonight. His lips curved into a slight smile. He saw an e-mail from Stockwell's campaign manager and scanned the contents. It bothered him that his so-called family thought he had so little integrity and so few stakes in the gay community. Just because he didn't go to every GLBT meeting didn't mean he didn't give a shit about gay rights. He hated Stockwell but it was just business. And, maybe, if he told himself that enough he might actually believe it. He was kind of surprised that Justin hadn't mentioned it. But since it wasn't one of the accounts Justin had been assigned to he might not know.

Brian was many things but he always, always stuck by his word. Except for things like say, Vermont. "Hey, Justin, what kind of salad are you making?"

"Garden. We have everything here. For once."

Brian barely acknowledged the dig. "Why don't you go ahead and order the pizza?" He closed down his e-mail server after shooting off his response to Stockwell's campaign manager and went to join them in the kitchen. "Need any help?"

Um. Huh? It took effort for him not to do a double-take. But Justin said only, "You can slice the French bread for garlic toast."

"Okay," he said, standing behind Justin, arms looped casually around the teen's waist. Justin reached for the phone and dialed their favorite pizza delivery service. He ordered the pizzas they'd discussed earlier. "Bri, cash or card?"

"Card," he said.

He felt Justin lean slightly back against him and smiled. Justin turned in his arms to study him, the salad forgotten for the moment. "What?" he asked gently.

"Nothing. Just you," he said, wonder made his voice soft and gentle, sliding over Brian like silk. Watching Brian it occurred to Justin that he seemed happy, genuinely happy. It was a rare sight and a dead certainty that no casual trick had ever seen Brian like this. In daddy mode. Planning dinner with his boyfriend and son.

Justin broke the connection, and leaned back against Brian, feeling the man's arms tighten almost imperceptibly around him. Felt the man inhale and realized that Brian was sniffing him. Some things never changed. And yet something has changed, Justin realized. But he wasn't sad. He was happy. Happy that he'd gotten this second chance. Happy that he hadn't lost the most important thing in his life to him. Yet there was a foreboding sense, he realized. A sense that something would happen to challenge him and Brian. Maybe forever alter their relationship. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling. And wondered if Brian felt it too.

Brian smelled Justin, smelled the clean scent of soap and shampoo and boy. Realized that it wasn't overlaid with the musk of another. For some reason, his happiness was tempered by the thought that challenges lay ahead. Rain's coming, he thought, even as his arms tightened around Justin, holding him closer. Never wanna let you go, he thought.

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