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The Things I Cannot Change

Suz


Disclaimer - CowLip/Russell T Davies/Showtime own them, I don't.

A season one AU, definitely set before 107. Brian/Justin, angst baby. Oodles of thanks to my nel *smooch*.

Note: Though this will mostly be by me, sometimes as a necessity of the fic I'll be quoting directly from the show. Those moments - and sometimes entire scenes - belong expressly to CowLip, and I'm just borrowing them. Much like the characters ;D



Part 4

The knocking on the loft door came as a rude awakening.

Having made out with Brian for what felt like hours, Justin eventually fell asleep lying half on top of him. It was just about the most content he'd ever felt, and when the loud, repetitive knocking jolted him out of sleep, he moaned in complaint.

Then moaned again when Gus started crying.

Muttering, Brain started dislodging Justin. "Shit, we were out for a while. He probably needs changing anyway." Running a hand through his hair - Justin loved his bed head look but would never, ever tell him that - Brian sighed. "I'll get Gus. You kill whoever's at the door."

Amused, Justin slid off of Brian, then the bed, and scurried across the loft, barely stifling a yawn as he started pulling open the door. "Here, I'm here," he said around an unsuccessfully-stifled yawn this time, just wanting the noise to stop. It did, and when Justin saw who was standing there he frowned. "Mel. You're back early."

Doing some frowning of her own, Mel looked into the loft like she was about to brush by him. "Is Brian here? If he's left you alone with Gus..."

"He's here," Justin promised, stopping the rant before it really started - and wondering what *would* have been wrong in leaving just him with Gus. "And I'd never do anything to hurt Gus."

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Mel studied him apologetically. "Oh, honey, I know how much you care about him. I'm sorry, I just..." Closing her eyes, she sighed before opening them again. "I just spent more than twenty-four hours with my mother, which is more than anyone should have to spend with her in an entire lifetime."

Understanding the frustration, Justin smiled and stepped back out of the way. "Come in."

"Mel!" Brian's voice declared, making them both turn to see him walking towards them, holding Gus. It was only then that Justin realised that Gus had stopped crying. "I see you're returned from the mother ship early. What happened? They realise you had no interest in a rectal probing?"

Sometimes Brian really didn't make life easy for himself.

Justin would've expected Mel to rise to the bait, but this time she didn't - instead staring at Brian's hair before looking at Justin and moving back to Brian's hair again. "Jesus Christ, Brian - is he just here so you can fuck while you're supposed to be looking after your son?"

Expression darkening, Brian handed Gus over to Justin. Getting the message, Justin took Gus back into the bedroom and gave the two of them some privacy. He figured he was doing a pretty good job of distracting Gus, but Justin could still hear everything Brian and Mel were saying.

"One, you're never bitching at me in front of my kid again, and two, don't tell me you and Linds never munched with Gus in the same room because I don't fucking believe it."

"Whatever Linds and I did is none of your Goddamned business, and-"

"Actually," he interrupted, "it's none of your business anymore either. Not since you fucked around."

"And what would *you* know about monogamy?" she argued. "Don't tell me you suddenly believe in it; that you of all people are actually *judging* me for sleeping with someone."

"Don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorted. "You're both idiots for agreeing to monogamy in the first-"

"Although..." Now it was Mel's turn to interrupt. And she sounded smug. Incredibly smug. "When was the last time you fucked someone who wasn't Justin?"

Oh, shit.

Worried, Justin started bouncing Gus on his knee.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Yeah, Brian sounded about as pleased as Justin thought he would. He really didn't want Brian to get into some great descriptive list of all the guys he'd fucked who weren't Justin.

"All Michael's talked about for weeks now is that you're never at Woody's or Babylon anymore. That you're never in the backroom or in a toilet cubicle getting sucked off. In fact, you never seem to do anything 'fun' anymore."

Brian sounded bored. "You really think those are the only two places in Pittsburgh that I can pick up guys?"

Mel ignored the question - she was clearly intent on finishing what she'd started. "Or *maybe*," she continued smugly, "that little kid has got you wrapped around his little finger." She snorted. "More likely his cock."

Groaning quietly, Justin tried to take some joy out of how happy Gus seemed to be at the moment. Mel knew exactly how to press all of Brian's buttons - implying monogamy, attacking his 'studhood' - and the outcome wasn't going to be pretty. In fact, it was going to be so far from pretty that even Brian might look pretty fucking ugly.

And then Brian said,

"Nice try, Mel."

Justin blinked, and Brian kept talking.

"I applaud your valiant efforts to try and piss me off, but I know *you're* pissed off at life in general and I'm not fucking falling for it. Take it out on someone else." Justin shook his head to clear it; making sure he wasn't hallucinating. Brian not arguing with Mel was like Brian not liking cock - impossible. "And though it's none of your fucking business where I go and what I do when I'm not with Gus, I haven't been going to clubs and bars lately because I'm an alcoholic. Recovering."

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Justin moved off the bed so quickly he nearly fell over. Securing Gus into his carrier, he all but ran out of the bedroom empty-handed to find Brian and Mel standing a few feet apart. Mel looked stunned, and Brian looked vaguely bored - although he was clearly anything but.

"Go ahead," Brian taunted, not looking away from Mel at all. "This is the part where you tell me how I deserve it. That it was only a matter of time until something like this happened."

Mel didn't say anything like that at all, finally jolting out of her shock and walking towards Brian until she was scant inches away. "Have you ever, *ever* been drunk when you've looked after Gus?"

If he said yes, Justin had no doubt Mel would've disembowled Brian right there with the nearest blunt object.

"No," Brian swore, and there was absolutely no doubt he was telling the truth.

Mel stared at him for a long, long time before seeming to accept it. "Who else have you told?"

"Technically," Brian laughed dryly, "you're the first person I've told."

"But not the first person who knows."

Brian shrugged. "Emmett knows. Vic figured it out. Justin..." He flicked his gaze towards Justin before quickly moving it away. "He knew before I did."

"Really?"

"He's an observant little fucker."

Justin felt pleased by that statement, but he also felt a stunned sense of disbelief. He still couldn't believe Brian had told anyone at all - had actually said the words I'm an alcoholic. Least of all to Mel.

Mel seemed to be having the same problem wrapping her mind around the situation. "So...the one person you've told is the one person who likes you the least?"

He shrugged. "Save the worst for first."

Mel gave him the finger.

The earlier argument having deflated and Mel and Justin obviously still looking surprised, Brian told them to sit the fuck down. Mel actually did what he said and headed towards the sofa - after stopping into the bedrom to get Gus. Justin, of course, wasn't going anywhere, still standing by Brian while he slid the door shut.

Looking vaguely uncomfortable, Brian scratched the back of his head and tried not to look at him. "Where's Gus?"

"With Mel. Brian..." he so wasn't letting him get away with changing the subject. "I...*why*?" This was such a huge change from the last time they'd talked about it.

Sighing, Brian stared off to one side. "Look, they would've figured it all out eventually. Vic and Emmett already know. Mikey knows something's wrong. Nosey fuckers that they are, they would've worked it out and probably tried to treat me like I was about to fall apart or some shit like that. This way I get to control how they find out and tell them upfront not to treat me any fucking differently."

Control again.

It was something Justin never, ever would've expected but the reasoning was so completely Brian that it actually made sense. "You really *don't* like being predictable, do you?"

"Yeah, that's it," Brian grinned even as he rolled his eyes, "I did this just to keep you on your toes."

He didn't object when Justin reached up to hug him, although he did make a point of coping a feel - probably to make it seem less sentimental than it was. Justin didn't care, and cared even less when he felt a few tears start to fall.

"Justin?" Brian asked quietly, obviously noticing. "What the fuck?"

"It's nothing," Justin pulled back, shaking his head and wiping at his face. But it wasn't nothing. It was being so *fucking* proud he thought he'd burst, that Brian had actually been able to come this far at all, that it wasn't going to be some big, dirty secret anymore. That Brian had no need to be ashamed of it.

"Nothing your magnificent ass," Brian argued, pulling him back for another hug.

Clinging tightly, Justin closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. Saying nothing for a while, Brian just kept holding him. Eventually he moved his head until his mouth was next to Justin's ear.

"Silly twat."

Laughing once, Justin placed a wet kiss on Brian's shirt. "Love you too, asshole."

Brian slapped him on the ass.

But that was all.

______°°°______

Mel was kind of...*nice* to Brian after that. Not that she stopped thinking he was an asshole - that much was clear. They still called each other names and mocked each others issues, but instead it felt like a comfortable routine. Like something they were used to doing, with no genuine feeling behind it.

Well, not much genuine feeling behind it.

There was, certainly, conflict when Mel declared that seeing as she was back early, she could take Gus home with her immediately. Brian and Justin both resisted - Brian mostly using bad language - but eventually they reached a compromise. They'd keep Gus for another night, and Mel would pick him up in the morning and take him back to her cousin's with her. She'd been living there ever since she and Linds had separated.

By the time she left it was nearly 7pm, and both men slumped down onto the sofa together, staring at Gus as he gurgled from the comfort of his carrier.

"So," Justin began, bringing up the subject that'd never been far from his mind, "how are you gonna tell the others?" He still couldn't believe it.

Brian pretended to think about it. "Full page spread in Out." Holding up his arm, he moved his hand from left to right as if to demonstrate a headline. "'Kinney's An Addict - And It's Not Sex'."

Barely stifling a chuckle, Justin twisted his head towards him, resting it on Brian's shoulder. "Make sure they don't over-charge you."

"They'll be paying *me* for the exclusive."

"Of course," Justin sighed, kind of content. This whole thing was so weird - Brian actually making plans to tell his friends the truth. But if it was what he needed to do Justin would go along with it every step of the way. The reality of actually telling everyone probably wouldn't be that easy, but he had no doubt that Brian knew that. If they needed to deal with or talk about it when the time came, they would. Or at least Justin would, and Brian would simply have to listen to him. "What now?"

"Now?" Brian asked. "Now *you* do your homework."

Well that seemed totally unfair. "Brian, it's Saturday..."

"Do you not normally do the bulk of your homework on a Saturday?"

Time for another tack. "I'm with you and Gus."

"That first one is hardly unusual, and I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself. As for Gus," he gestured towards his son, his carrier resting on the coffee table, "right now he seems to be more fascinated with his own snot than in discovering what you're up to."

Babies could be totally gross sometimes. Still... "I'll suck you off."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

Good point. "I *won't* suck you off."

Brian wasn't having it. "Homework. Now. Or Gus'll throw snot at you."

Babies weren't the only ones who could be totally gross sometimes. "You'll regret this when I won't let you fuck me later."

"Yeah, like that'll happen."

Completely expectedly, Brian turned out to be right.

*

Justin moped when Mel took Gus the next morning. He still didn't want to be a full-time parent - or even a part-time parent, really - but he definitely missed Gus when he wasn't there. Brian moped too, just in different ways. They mostly consisted of fucking the shit out of Justin on every available surface, and Justin really didn't mind that form of pain management at all.

Eventually, however, Brian started to get antsy; snapping at him over stupid things and Justin quickly recognised the signs - he needed to be alone. He'd had a lot of company over the past few days, in Brian terms, and he simply wasn't used to it.

Leaving Brian with a particularly hot kiss to remember him by, Justin headed off to the diner. He'd told Deb on Friday evening that he might not be able to make his Sunday shift - Gus was an excellent excuse - but he could at least see if she wanted him to lend a hand for a while.

Surprised to see him when he walked in, Deb immediately pulled him into a hug. "Sunshine, what're you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he promised, extracting himself from her hold. "Mel came back early, so we figured she should spend some time with Gus too." Personally, he doubted Mel got to spend a lot of time with Gus since the break-up. "Anyway, I thought I'd see how things are here. Need a hand?"

"Bless you!" she mock-prayed, clasping her hands together. Justin laughed and pulled his jacket off.

When Em turned up for lunch he all but jumped on Justin, demanding details of the weekend with Brian. Taking his break, Justin divulged all he could in that time - including Brian's 'coming out' to Mel.

Eyes wide, Em lifted his hand to his throat in shock - although not quite for the reason Justin thought. "Mel? Of all the people he could've told, he chose *Mel*?"

Justin grinned. "You almost sound offended."

"I am!" he insisted. "Why couldn't he have told *me*?"

Now he was just being ridiculous, and they both knew it. "Because you already knew?"

"Oh pish," Em pretended to argue, waving a fork around, "that's never the same as hearing the news first hand. Anyway," he picked up his knife and cut neatly into a waffle, "tell me more about this fabulous fuck session. And don't forget to include any and all tongue-usage."

By the time Justin finished working, he was in a remarkably good mood and was glad he'd gone. Catching up with Emmett had been great, and not a single customer had tried to grope his ass. Hopeful that he had another hot session with Brian to look forward to, he practically bounced up the stairs to the loft.

Before he could even knock on the door it began to slide open, and Justin's smile faded the moment he saw Brian's expression.

Realising Justin was just outside the door, Brian froze. "Didn't expect you back this soon."

"Just helped out for a while," Justin murmured, staring up at him. "Where are you...?" No. He didn't need to ask. Judging by the blankness on Brian's face, he knew exactly where he was going. He didn't know how and why he'd made the decision, but he at least knew his destination. "Want me to come with you?" Justin knew Brian would probably refuse, but he had to offer. "I can wait in the car." And frankly, he was worried about what Brian would do if things didn't go well.

Shaking his head, Brian released his hold on the door, leaning against the doorway. "This...thing." He looked down. "Recovery. Part of it's trust, right?"

Where was he going with this? "Right."

"You have to trust that I'm not gonna fuck up again. But I have to earn it. So I have to go alone."

There was that Brian logic again. "You don't have to do anything alone."

"I know," Brian said, finally looking back up. "That's why you're gonna be waiting for me. In my bed. With your ass lubed and ready."

Justin's cock twitched. "You sure know how to romance a guy."

"I know - I've been doing it for years."

Managing to huff out a laugh, Justin reached out and placed a hand on Brian's arm. "I *will* be here when you get back. For whatever you need." He didn't let any doubt, any fear show, letting Brian know that he had faith in him.

"Like I said before," Brian retorted, looking uncomfortable, "silly twat."

"Yeah," Justin agreed with a small smile. "That's the only reason I've stuck around this long."

Naturally, the moment Brian left Justin started to freak out. Not that he didn't trust Brian; he just didn't trust *life*. It always seemed to be fucking with Brian, delivering bad news, pushing his limits.

Brian was kind of OCD about keeping his loft clean, but Justin somehow found something to clean anyway. After that he called Daph, listening to her squeal about her SAT scores and pretending he wasn't worried about anything - which didn't help. After *that* he called Em and panicked down the phone, while Em kept assuring him that everything was going to be fine.

Em was trying to distract him with tales of sex with Steve when the loft door started sliding open.

"Gotta go!" Justin yelled, hanging up the phone and running towards the door. Brian had been gone for a grand total of one hour and eight minutes. Not so long, really, but from the expression on Brian's face, also long enough to be a lifetime.

That wasn't all Justin saw on Brian's face.

A bruise.

There was a bruise just under Brian's left eye. It wasn't huge but it was there, and it sure as fuck hadn't been there before he left to see his dad.

Mother fucking piece of shit!

"You could say," Brian sounded exhausted, "that it didn't go well."

Not finding anything remotely funny, Justin took Brian's jacket and ordered him to sit down on a stool by the kitchen counter. Yanking open the freezer, he pulled out a chunk of ice, wrapping it in a towel before handing it to Brian. He didn't wait any longer to start the interrogation.

"Did he do that to you?"

Holding the towel carefully against his face, Brian hissed slightly anyway. "No, it was a giant squirrel."

"Brian!" Justin couldn't believe that even Brian would joke about this.

"Well who the hell else do you think did it? Jesus, what a dumb question."

Okay. Maybe he had a point. Maybe. Besides, all that mattered was...Jack Kinney hit Brian. Hit his own son. He hit *Brian*. "What happened?" Regardless, Justin still felt the urge to kick the shit out of Brian's dad.

"He didn't take it well."

"*Brian*..." Justin wanted details.

"I told him," he sighed, giving in, still holding the ice to his face. "He said I should be the one dying instead of him." Jesus Christ. What kind of father *said* something like that? "And..."

"What?"

"He..." Brian paused, slumping. "He said some shit about you. Figured out who you were. Accused me of molesting you."

Mother fucker. Biting his lip, Justin swallowed harshly. "What did you say?"

He actually produced a smirk. "That you're eighteen and love taking it up the ass. That was when he punched me. Or tried to. I saw it coming - he's not as fast as he used to be."

Understanding the smirk, Justin still didn't produce one of his own, instead pulling Brian into a hug. It was kind of awkward - Brian was still on his stool, still holding the towel and wasn't hugging him back - but he didn't care. "I love you," Justin whispered. "I love you so much. Your dad doesn't know shit."

Brian didn't say anything; didn't try to hug him back. He just let Justin hold him. When he spoke eventually, Justin tried not to notice that his voice was rougher than usual. "Are all my requirements for my return in place?"

"Not the naked and in bed part," Justin replied enthusiastically, trying to sound cheerful, "but that can be fixed in about ten seconds."

And it was.

*

After they fucked, and Justin pretended not to notice that Brian was shaking as he lay on top of him, the two of them wrapped around each other in the blue glow of the light above Brian's bed.

"Why'd you decide to tell your dad? What made you do it?" He still didn't know and he was curious. Even if Brian didn't give him an answer, at least he'd asked.

Brian didn't reply. Brian didn't even blink, as if he hadn't heard a single word.

And then he did reply.

"He never knew me. He never knew me at all."

______°°°______

Unfortunately Justin had school the next day and there was no way Brian would let him skip it (this was despite Justin giving him what he considered to be an extremely hot blowjob and Brian enthusiastically fucking him in the shower).

Grumpy, he felt a little better when Brian dropped him off at school with a ball-drawing-upingly good kiss, but then felt frustrated when Brian shoved him out of the car and screeched away in the Jeep, leaving him standing on the curb.

As if she'd managed to develop a Just-dar over the weekend, Daph suddenly appeared from nowhere. "Soooooo?"

Still feeling dazed, he looked at her blankly.

She slapped his arm. "How was the weekend with Brian? Spill!"

Justin knew exactly what he had to say - Brian had more or less given him permission to tell Daph everything - but this wasn't the time or the place. "I'll tell you at lunch," he promised, turning and starting up the steps. "Just don't eat anything that stains."

Frowning, Daphne looked at him funny, clearly trying to understand.

At lunch she did, spitting out the fry she'd just started chewing.

"Oh my God. Brian's an *alcoholic*?!"

Justin just barely stopped himself from slapping his hands over his face. "Could you keep it down, Daph? Before everyone in school knows that my older male lover has a drinking problem?" He wasn't embarrassed by Brian or himself, but the jerks like Chris Hobbs already had enough ammunition as it was.

"Sorry," she mumbled, immediately contrite. "I just...that's just...holy shit!" Justin knew exactly how she felt. "How's he doing now?"

"Pretty good," he shrugged, going into some detail of his relapse, and what'd happened over the weekend he'd just spent with him - though he decided to leave out the part about Jack actually hitting Brian. "...and he said Brian should be the one dying instead of him."

Daph was fucking *scary* when she got angry. "Fucking fucker! How the fuck could he say something like that?" she ranted, apparently not noticing that her 'enthusiasm' was drawing a few curious stares. "I know Brian can be kind of a jerk sometimes, but that's just..." Daphne shook her head. "I guess you and Brian both have dicks for dad's."

Something about that phrase - dicks for dad's - amused the hell out of him and he started grinning despite the fact that Daph still looked pissed as hell.

It was funny, and bizarre, and he'd finally, finally told Daphne the truth and a pressure that he'd barely noticed pressing down on him was finally gone. He didn't have to hide anything anymore, and he just couldn't stop grinning.

Daphne frowned. "What's with you?"

He just kept smiling. "I love you, Daph. You know that, right?"

Eyes wide she sat up straight, her right hand clasped around a clump of fries. "I love you too, doofus. Now pass the ketchup."

Sharing almost everything with her had been emotionally exhausting, and Justin was wiped for the rest of the school day. When school finished part of him wanted to go straight over to the loft - even knowing Brian wouldn't be home from work yet and he'd have no way of getting in - but part of him also knew he really should put in an appearance at Deb's.

Besides, there was someone he wanted to talk to.

The person in question made it easy for him, already sitting at the kitchen table when Justin walked into the house. Not even stopping to take his coat off or put his bag down, Justin walked right up to the table. He wasn't pissed exactly (okay, maybe a little), just of the very strong belief that Vic's advice had been absolutely the wrong thing to say. "Why did you tell Brian he should come out to his dad?"

Vic's greeting died on his lips. Slowly and methodically removing his glasses, he folded them up and placed them on top of the newspaper he'd been reading. "Because it's his father."

"And that gives him the right to know whether Brian's gay or not?"

"Yes."

"He hit him," Justin argued. "Brian told him, and his dad hit him."

Closing his eyes, Vic sighed regretfully. "Stupid asshole. Me," he confirmed, opening his eyes again. "I'm the asshole." He paused. "But I stand by my decision, Justin. Sometimes it's harder never knowing how your parents would've reacted."

Justin stared right back at him. "And sometimes it's harder knowing exactly how they did react."

"Sometimes," Vic admitted.

Glad that he'd made his point, Justin's curiousity was suddenly piqued. "How did your parents react?"

Leaning his arms on the table and clasping his hands together, Vic smiled slightly in fond remembrance. "Dad was a good man, but he died long before I ever came out. Mom...she didn't exactly hate me for who I was. But every day, without fail, she'd pray for my soul."

It could've been worse, Justin supposed, but it still didn't sound very happy. "Then why did you tell Brian he should come out to his dad? If it didn't go so well for you and you knew what his dad was like..."

The answer, apparently, was simple. "Because Brian never takes any chances. Or rather," he amended, "the right kind of chances." As he looked at Justin he arched an eyebrow in a move so Brian-like, that Justin wondered if Brian had actually stolen it from him.

He knew what Vic meant, though. Brian had always drunk too much, taken drugs, gone home with complete strangers. And though he had every right to do any of those things, it didn't make them safe.

Of course, taking other kinds of chances were dangerous in their own way.

"Things change," Justin said softly, knowing better than anyone the truth of it.

Vic just smiled, apparently having nothing else to say - something that changed when Justin quietly turned away, intent on heading upstairs to get changed. "Justin?"

He turned back. "Yeah?"

Smiling, Vic held out an envelope that'd been resting on the kitchen table. "You got something today."

Knowing what it was as soon as he took the envelope, he turned it over and read the delivery address. It was still a little weird sometimes, not seeing his old address beneath his name. When he'd moved into Brian's, Mom had simply ferried over any mail he received - usually through Deb, or sometimes even Brian - but since moving into Deb's they'd actually gone through the process of getting his address changed and his mail forwarded.

And it was probably weird that he was focusing more on the outside of the envelope instead of the contents. He probably should've felt excited or nervous or both, but SATs felt kind of insignificant when you had to deal with people like Jack Kinney.

He knew they were important. He'd even applied to colleges, but there was no way in hell he was going to any college that took him away from Pittsburgh - or Brian. IFA was his biggest hope but the places were so limited, and...

Still holding onto the envelope, Justin turned back towards the stairs.

"You're not gonna open it?"

Justin kept walking. "No. Not yet."

*

He hadn't been sure if Brian was going to pick him up tonight - they had just spent four nights in a row together, not to mention nearly the entire weekend - but when the honk came Justin was ready as ever, picking up his rucksack and thumping down the stairs. Grabbing his coat from the rack, he yelled out a "See you later!" and bolted out the door.

Justin easily imagined Deb rolling her eyes and Vic's smirk, but all he cared about was getting to Brian. He wasn't sure why he'd felt so uncomfortable and almost depressed since getting the envelope, but being with Brian always made him feel better.

"How was work?" he asked, tugging on his seat belt. Truthfully, although he did want to see Brian for his own selfish reasons, he also wanted to know how he handled his day after last night.

"It was work. I was brilliant." The bruise was still on his face, not hidden at all and Justin wondered how he would've explained it when anyone asked.

Shaking his head, Justin forced a laugh. He seemed okay, at least. "Good thing you're not advertising modesty."

Waiting for a car to pass, Brian pulled out onto the road. "Modesty is overrated."

Justin actually kind of agreed - how could he not, being involved with a guy like Brian?

Shifting about in the drivers seat, Brian glanced over at him. "So, how was your day, dear?"

The day Brian seriously called him 'dear' or 'sweetheart' was the day Justin was having him committed. "Pretty good. Okay. I told Daphne." He fell silent, then felt stupid for falling silent. "She thinks your dad's an asshole."

"Popular perception."

Justin didn't doubt it, but didn't want Brian to focus on his dad too much and quickly changed subjects. "My SAT scores arrived."

Brian looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"I didn't look at them yet."

"Why the fuck not?"

Before he knew it, he was blurting out everything he'd thought earlier - that in the grand scheme of things they had no importance; they were just a bunch of numbers. That they didn't seem to matter when there were Jack Kinney's, homophobic pricks, and addictions to deal with.

Brian wasn't impressed. "That's exactly *why* your SATs are important."

He didn't get it. "Huh?"

"To show that shit like that isn't gonna stop you from getting everything you deserve. Look," finding a place to pull over - Justin suspected it was highly illegal but wasn't about to point out - Brian turned in his seat to face him. "I know I'm not easy to deal with. I can be downright shitty to you sometimes." No point in arguing that - they both knew the truth. "And so can life in general. But don't ever let it take your enthusiasm away, Justin. That's how we'll know they've won."

That was probably the longest speech not fuelled by anger that Brian had ever given in his life, and Justin felt kind of stunned, fumbling for words. "What about you? What about you losing yours?" he asked, knowing full well that they weren't quite talking about enthusiasm.

Facing the front of the Jeep, Brian rested one hand on the top of the steering wheel. "Never had a chance," he replied, trying to make it sound funny - and not succeeding.

"I know what we should do," Justin suddenly declared, his mouth somehow getting ahead of his brain. "Every weekend - or whenever we get the time - we should go do something you always wanted to do when you were a kid." The that your parents were too shitty to let you do was left unspoken.

Obviously uncomfortable, Brian didn't look at him. "There's nothing I haven't done."

As a man, maybe. But as a boy? Justin's dad may have turned out to be an asshole, but at least he'd had a relatively good childhood. Brian, on the other hand...

Realising that Brian really, truly didn't like this concept at all, Justin began to think that maybe he'd pushed too hard. "Just something to think about," he said quickly.

Pulling the Jeep back out onto the road, Brian ignored the statement. "Open your goddamn mail."

*

Ultimately, Justin felt pretty proud of his 1500. In fact, he ended up having a great deal of enthusiasm for doing so well, purely because Brian was so clearly proud of him (Justin was convinced Brian had been about ten seconds away from letting him fuck him when he'd turned over and pushed Justin face-first into the mattress). After their first fuck Brian even let himself be sprawled out on one of his designer chairs, while Justin straddled his body and force-fed him spoon after spoon of vanilla ice cream. He complained the whole time about calories of course, but not once did he actually stop Justin from feeding him.

Licking the latest dribble from Brian's chest, Justin enjoyed the gasp it produced and grinned, sitting back up. "One spoon left. You want it?" He held the spoon up carefully - the ice cream had melted so much by now that it was practically liquid.

"No, it'll mean ten more minutes on the stair master."

There was no real argument in his voice and they both knew it. "Come on, I wanna see you lick it off the spoon." Pretending to resist Brian eventually obliged, licking the spoon until it was clean. Holding the empty ice cream tub in one hand and the spoon in the other, Justin leant down and rewarded him with a sticky kiss. "You should eat more," he said when he straighened up. "My mom says that you're too skinny."

"Your mom?" The disbelief was obvious.

Justin grinned. "She doesn't completely hate you, you know." Now for some fun. "I told her that you were always skinny, though. Even in high school."

Brian's frown was directed towards him. "You don't know how I looked in high school."

"I live in Michael's old room, remember? With all those old yearbooks. Pictures of you." He'd definitely gone through them more than once. "You were a geek," he teased.

Brian tried to look offended, but there was a smile beneath it somewhere. "I was never a geek."

Please. Sometimes Brian was still a geek even now. "Then explain the chemistry club."

"That's where I learnt to build the bomb to blow up the school. But Mikey talked me out of it," he concluded, sounding almost wistful.

It didn't escape Justin's attention. "Good thing he was around." The two of them still weren't spending much time together - in fact, he couldn't remember the last time Brian and Michael had hung out together with no one else around. Justin was sure that Brian had been purposefully avoiding him, trying to hide what he was going through, but now that he'd decided to tell everyone... "Maybe you should give him a call. See how he's doing."

"Probably fucking the doctor," he mumbled.

Jealousy? Interesting. Leaving it there to think over it some more later, Justin carefully leaned to one side, placing the tub on the floor with the spoon inside. "I'd prefer not to think about Michael and David fucking," he said when he was straddling Brian again. "Not when I have you right where I want you," he finished, bracing his hands either side of the top of the chair and moving his hips.

They'd both been hard for a while, and groaned in unison as their cocks rubbed against each other. Brian's hands instantly latched onto his ass, encouraging the rhythm as Justin's mouth descended towards his. They kissed open-mouthed, Justin still finding and enjoying the taste of Brian and ice cream, throwing a moan into the mix whenever there was a particularly good thrust.

They could've made it last for ages - they'd gotten good at that - but both of them seemed to be in the mood to get off quickly, so they rocked and rutted and licked and nipped, sticky with sweat, ice cream and come, and when Brian came this time he moaned and latched his mouth onto Justin's neck, biting but not breaking the skin. Throwing back his head at the pressure, Justin practically howled and came all over both of them.

Collapsing on top of Brian he panted for breath, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the hand slowly running over his ass.

Yeah, SATs were definitely a good thing.

______°°°______

Justin almost cried when he realised someone was knocking on the door. "You seriously need to move to Siberia."

Brian simply groaned.

It wasn't fair, Justin thought, as he regretfully peeled himself away from Brian. They never seemed to get any fucking privacy. Someone was always knocking or calling or generally butting in. Sighing, he padded up to the bathroom and wiped himself clean with a towel. Stepping out to lob it at Brian, he located his cargo pants - they'd been pulled off his body earlier, using only Brian's teeth - and slipped them on, waiting until Brian was safely out of sight in the bedroom before pulling open the door. He was vaguely aware that his chest wasn't covered, but whoever it was would just have to put up with it. Being interrupted post-fuck was not conducive to one of Justin's better moods.

The moment he slid the door open and saw who was standing outside, he slid it right back again.

Jack shot his foot out, stepping on the door track and effectively stopping Justin from shutting it.

It wouldn't stop him for long. "I'll keep this door moving and crush your foot," Justin warned, staring Jack down. "Don't think I won't."

He didn't seem particularly concerned, although he did look surprised. "You're a fiesty one, aren't ya?" Justin was so *not* in the mood to be patronised. "Least you're not one of those effeminate types." Jesus Christ.

The anger just burned hotter. "Stay the fuck away from Brian."

"Justin." And there was Brian himself, wearing only a pair of sweats and deliberately wrapping an arm around him. Getting with the program - and maybe even liking it more than violence just then - Justin wrapped an arm around Brian, too, and let his head press against his chest.

Proud.

"What are you doing here?" Brian demanded.

"I'll only be a minute," were Jack's first words to him, his hands held up in supplication. "I found something when I was going through those boxes. I thought you might want it."

So far Brian had given Justin precious little detail about exactly what'd happened last night, so he could only assume Jack had been clearing something out when Brian'd turned up.

Digging into a pocket inside his jacket, Jack extracted what looked to be a photograph and held it out. Taking it from him with his free hand, Brian held it towards himself where Justin got a good look at the picture. Jack, much younger, holding a baby. Obviously Brian. Gus really did take after him.

"It's me and you when you was five months old," Jack confirmed. Was it meant to be some kind of peace offering? If so, why?

Brian didn't seem impressed. "Why are you smiling?"

"It's a photograph - isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

Releasing his hold on it, Brian let the image flutter to the floor. "I don't want it."

"You might change your mind some day when I'm gone," he pointed out, maybe trying to appeal to his son's sentimental side. Yeah, right. Jack had probably done everything he could to destroy that himself before Brian was even a teenager.

"I doubt it."

"You know, you can really pack a wallop for a fag," Jack said, completely changing subjects and making Justin stiffen. Brian had made no mention whatsoever of defending himself or striking out after his dad had hit him, and he couldn't see any marks on Jack at all. What the hell *had* he hit? "Just don't tell your mother, you understand?"

"Yeah, because she'll take it so much worse than you did," Brian snorted. "You think some shitty old photograph suddenly makes everything right? That, once upon a time, you didn't treat me like you wished I'd never be born? Fuck that," he continued. "I have my own life now. A good life. And I don't fucking need you *or* your bullshit." Placing his free hand on Jack's chest, he pushed him back firmly and slid the door shut.

Justin stared at the photograph where it was lying face-up on the floor, before being dragged into the bedroom - not that he put up much of a struggle. When Brian collapsed onto the bed Justin went with him, but stayed kneeling up, rubbing a hand slowly over Brian's exposed back. He wasn't entirely sure what to do. For once Brian didn't seem to want to fuck, so he just stayed nearby, letting him know he was there.

Eventually, Brian spoke. "Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"There's a...in my briefcase," he faltered. "There's a bottle. Get rid of it."

Fear made Justin freeze momentarily, but it was quickly overtaken by the knowledge that Brian had told him before he'd drunk anything. Not knowing whether to hit him or hug him, Justin settled for a little of both - a kiss on his back and a slap on his ass - before pushing himself from the bed. Locating the briefcase by the sofa, Justin opened it up and found a small bottle of vodka inside. Seeing nothing else of any concern, he snapped the briefcase shut, left it on the sofa, and emptied the vodka down the sink.

After the sink'd been rinsed clean and the bottle thrown into the trash, Justin hesitated by the photograph still on the floor. Making a decision he bent down, picked it up, and shoved it into one of the many pockets on his cargo pants.

Back in the bedroom he joined Brian on the mattress, sharing a toe-curling kiss (although he tried not to make it feel like a reward for good behaviour. Brian wasn't a kid or a dog, despite the fact that he could behave like both from time to time). Settling down next to him eventually, Justin sprawled on his front and threw his arm across Brian's body.

It was clear there'd be no discussion of Jack again tonight, and Brian telling him he'd bought alcohol was a huge step, so... "Did you know that back in the olden days - you know, when you were at school," he waited for - and heard - the expected snort, "Mensa used to accept people who scored higher than 1250 on their SATs? Which makes me, officially, a genius."

"What it makes you is a pain in the ass, Einstein."

Pleased that Brian sounded so very much like himself, Justin sat up and shifted until he was straddling Brian's back. "You wish."

Trying to turn to see what Justin was doing, Brian didn't get very far. "What are you up to back there? If you have plans involving your dick and my ass, think again."

"Nothing like that," Justin assured sweetly, "I'm just going to demonstrate what a pain in the ass I *can* be." Leaning over to Brian's bedside table, he tugged open the drawer and pulled out the string of anal beads.

*

During the drive to school the next day, Brian stopped off for coffee. Justin didn't want any himself, so simply watched Brian as he sipped his drink, driving one handed.

"You drink too much coffee."

Briefly looking at his drink, Brian gestured with it. "This isn't coffee, it's latte."

"Just coffee that costs five bucks," Justin argued cheekily. "And it still causes high blood pressure, heart attacks...poor sexual performance." He emphasising his last statement by pointing at Brian's groin. He didn't really mean any of it of course, but it was fun to mess with him sometimes.

Brian, being Brian, didn't seem the least bit concerned. "Haven't had any complaints."

"Not to mention insomnia." That one he meant semi-seriously - Brian really didn't sleep well most nights.

"Well," he shrugged, "usually when I'm in my bed I'm not asleep anyway, so it really doesn't matter."

Grinning, Justin deliberately sounded smug. "See, fortunately *I* have youth on my side. I can stay up all night fucking, and still score 1500 on my SATs."

Obviously holding back a smile, Brian shook his head. Something in him seem to have revived since last night, and Justin was glad for it. "I was thinking last night, you could get into any school you wanted with a score like that."

Justin nodded, absurdly pleased that Brian'd been thinking about it. "I applied to Dartmouth, Brown..."

Brian's head snapped towards him. "You're going out of state?"

Oh, this was too good. "Why? Do you give a shit?" He knew perfectly well that Brian did.

"It's just the first I've heard of it, that's all," he shrugged, looking back through the windshield, seriously doing a bad job of hiding his concern.

Practically giddy, Justin almost started bouncing in his seat. "You so care about meee," he sang as they pulled up outside school. "You love me *so* much!"

"Get out," Brian ordered gruffly.

Opening the door, Justin stepped onto the sidewalk - but turned and leant back into the car. "Don't worry, Brian," he said with a grin. "I'd never let you live without me."

"Fuck you."

Laughing, Justin shut the door and watched the Jeep as it drove away. Pleased with himself, he started up the steps when he noticed Daphne already standing there.

"Well, *you* look self-satisfied," she greeted, smiling. "I'd even go as far as to say supercilious."

"We all know you got seven hundred verbal," he laughed. "Stop showing off." Nudging her shoulder with his own, he continued up the stairs.

"So, what did he say to you?" she asked.

His grin was *so* never going away. "Hmm. It's what he didn't say," he said mysteriously. Naturally, Daph bugged him all the way to class for details. When they reached homeroom, it was to see Chris Hobbs bullying Paul Mendelson.

"I'm not a faggot," Paul was saying, obviously defending himself from some name-calling.

"You look like one to me," Chris sneered. "Do you wanna suck my cock?"

Daphne was as disgusted as he was. "Christ. Can't they think of anything more original to say?"

"Leave him alone, Hobbs," Justin said as he walked between the desks, not willing to put up with that kind of shit - especially at his own school.

"Oh, must be a faggot convention."

Yeah, that was mature. "Don't take it out on him."

"Take what out?"

"Your dick." Okay, so that wasn't mature either, but it felt good - even if Chris did start pushing him. Pushing back, Justin tried to shove him to the back of the room when Mr Dickson's voice intruded. He must've only just walked in.

"Okay, you two, break it up. Now!" he yelled, and the boys reluctantly separated, glaring at each other. "Taylor," Dickson continued, "next time you cause trouble you can talk to the principal."

What. The fuck? "What?" It was Chris who was the homophobic asshole!

Daphne was appalled, standing near the classroom doorway. "Sir, Justin didn't do anything. It was Chris. He called him a faggot."

"Take your seats," he ordered, clearly not willing to listen. "Both of you."

Mentally giving Dickson the finger, Justin slumped down into his seat as rolecall started. Jerk.

Things did seem to calm down, though. Lipman turned up late but rolecall was going fine until...

"Ruiz?" Dickson asked.

"Here."

"Taylor?"

Before Justin could say anything at all, Chris answered for him. "Queer!"

Everyone started laughing, and Mr Dickson did nothing about it. Absolutely. Nothing.

"Okay, class, quiet down," he ordered. "Thomas?"

There was absolutely no way Justin was standing for that. Determined, he stood up. "Excuse me, Mr. Dickson."

"What is is, Taylor?" He didn't sound pleased.

"Chris just called me queer."

Feigning ignorance, Dickson shrugged. "I didn't hear anything."

Lying asshole! "How could you not hear it? Everybody heard that." Everybody had laughed.

"Sit down, Taylor."

"I want him to apologize." That was all he wanted, really. An acknowledgement that Chris had done something wrong.

"I said sit down."

"Aren't you gonna do anything?" he asked, disappointed that a teacher - someone who was supposed to care about the welfare of all his students - was letting Chris get away with this. "Or are you just gonna pretend that nothing happened?"

Apparently he was. "One more word from you and I'm sending you to the principal's office."

Shaking his head, almost vibrating with anger, Justin picked up his rucksack and started walking out of the room, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Don't bother." As he passed Daphne she grabbed his arm, trying to get him to stay, but he shook her off. "The queer is going, the queer is out the door, the queer is gone!"

"That's enough of that!"

Pausing by the door, Justin swung back around to face Dickson. "Oh! What do you know? He says it," he gestured towards Chris, "you don't hear a thing. But when *I* say it..." Only one action, one response came to mind. "Well, listen up now that your hearing has *returned*." Leaning forward, he gave Dickson the finger with both hands. "This queer says *fuck you*!"

______°°°______

His feelings of triumph lasted until Mom started the drive to Deb's. Waiting outside the principal's office, being given what was probably meant to be a stern talking to, Mom being called into school and finding out he'd been suspended - none of it'd bothered him at all. He was right; Justin was absolutely convinced that he'd done the right thing. He'd stood up for himself and hadn't let Chris or that fucking teacher get away with anything.

Mom didn't agree, and let him know that as soon as they were in the car.

Away from prying eyes, of course.

Justin knew she was complaining, but only seriously tuned in to what she was saying after her first minute of ranting.

"...and honestly, Justin, things are hard enough already. If your father hears about this..."

Oh, yeah. That'd definitely been his main concern. "What's he gonna do?" he asked bitchily. "Throw me out?" Mom gave him another I am *so* not impressed look and Justin turned away, slumping in his seat and folding his arms. "Besides, I told you what happened - Chris was being a jerk and so was Dickson. I didn't do anything wrong. It's not my fault they're a couple of homophobic pricks."

"Justin..."

Rolling his eyes, he stared out the window moodily. God forbid anyone should ever use bad language, even in situations like this.

Neither one of them said anything else for the rest of the journey and when Mom pulled up outside Deb's, Justin immediately opened the door, fully prepared to get out without a saying a word.

"Justin," she pleaded again, reaching out to grab his arm before he could escape. Sighing, he settled back into his seat and turned to face her, expressionless. "Sweetheart," she continued, "it's not that I don't believe you, and I fully intend to have words with Mr Dickson myself. It's just..." Letting go of his arm, she gently touched the side of his face. "I love you *so* much and you're *so* strong, but things are so difficult for you already." Shrugging, eyes glistening, she gave him a small smile that obviously wasn't real. "I just don't want you to make things harder than they have to be."

Having heard enough Justin pulled away from her, feeling a vindictive kind of satisfaction as he held tightly onto his bag and climbed out of the car. "I don't make things harder for myself," he insisted, bracing his weight on the edge of the car and staring in at her. "Pricks like Mr Dickson do that for me." Slamming the door shut, he turned away from the car and walked into Deb's front yard.

Vic was on the sofa, already turning to look at him when Justin let himself into the house - he'd probably heard the key in the door.

"Justin?" he frowned even as he stood up. "Why aren't you at school?"

No one at Deb's knew anything about what'd happened yet, so Justin spilled the whole story. By the time he finished venting he still didn't feel any better - in fact, he probably felt even more pissed off.

Vic was sympathetic, of course, calling Chris and Mr Dickson more than a few choice names, but this time his words of wisdom about 'that just being the way life is sometimes' didn't make him feel any better. Stomping upstairs, Justin slammed into his bedroom and settled in for good sulk.

Well, Vic insisted it was sulking. Justin preferred to think of it as contemplating.

By the time Deb appeared most of the anger had drained out of him - which was just as well, because Vic had obviously told her everything and Justin had a feeling Deb's anger could wipe out entire city blocks.

"Those fucking assholes!" she ranted, releasing him from a hug. "All you're doing is what's right, and they suspend you? Assholes!" Shaking her head, she suddenly snapped her fingers. "I know what you need - cookies! I'll bring you up some cookies."

"Uh, Deb..." For once he didn't feel like eating much of anything.

"Cookies!" she yelled back, well out of his bedroom by now.

Resigning himself to the fact that he was going to be getting cookies whether he wanted any or not, Justin grabbed a sketch pad and sprawled onto this bed. Still feeling mopy, he was absently doodling whatever came to mind when Deb actually knocked for once. She'd been gone for a while, and seemed much calmer. Justin figured Vic had managed to talk her down.

"Hey," she greeted as she let herself in. Closing the door, she smiled as she walked towards him, glancing down at the mug and plate she was carrying. "You know the last time I brought hot chocolate and fig newtons up here?"

The answer seemed obvious. "When Michael lived here?"

"Smart kid," she nodded. "He'd lock himself in here for hours and hours. Told me he was playing with his model airplanes. Ha!" she laughed, smirking. "I know what he was playing with." Justin managed the barest smile as she set the hot chocolate down on the bedside table. "Here," she said, holding out the plate. "Want one?"

"No, thanks."

Sighing softly, Deb lowered herself down until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. "It's a lousy thing that teacher did."

No kidding. "Yeah, I could punch that dickhead Dickson's face in," Justin replied, making a stabbing motion with his pencil. "Chris Hobbs, too." Assholes, both of them.

"Only then you'd be just like them," she pointed out.

Some days that didn't seem so bad. "So what? They deserve it."

"Sure they do," she agreed, surprising him. "But there are better ways of handling it."

"Quit school?" Never having to see either of them again would be really, really good.

"And give them the pleasure?" Picking up one of the fig newtons herself, she took a bite out of it before offering him one again. Justin shook his head. "You know..." she continued, "there were people - when they found out that Michael was gay - who said and did the cruelest things. Friends...neighbors...family. My own goddamn sister wouldn't even let her kids come over here. Was afraid Michael was gonna molest 'em or something!" Obviously still understandably appalled by that, she took a moment to calm down. "Because that's the way people are. They're ignorant, and they're scared. And there's nothing you can do...except educate 'em, or shoot 'em." They shared a small smile. "Me, I joined PFLAG 'cause I figured it was more practical than shooting 'em." Chuckling, she took another bite from her cookie. "Do you have a gay club at your school?"

She so had to be kidding. "Are you crazy?"

"I've been accused of it," she admitted with a smile, not sounding the least bit bothered.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm, like, the only gay student there." No one else that he knew at school had ever come out.

Smiling broadly, Debbie regarded him fondly. "I doubt that, Sunshine. Gay kids are *everywhere*. Only they're not all like you," she reached out and touched his face like Mom had earlier, only this time it didn't bother him. "'Cause they're afraid to show their faces. That's why maybe...you've got to do something to help them know that they're not the only ones."

Do something? He wouldn't know where to start. "Like what?"

"You're the genius who got 1500 on his SATs," she smiled, "you figure it out." Her mood changing suddenly, she held up an index finger. "And don't think I've forgiven you for not telling me that personally, Sunshine."

Shit. He hadn't even told Vic, yet. "How did you hear about them?"

"Brian stopped by the diner for lunch," she said. "He tried not to look proud, but I saw right through him." Not even Justin's bad mood was going to stop the grin that *that* produced, and he smiled hugely. Snorting out laughter, Deb reached up and ruffled his hair. "Look at you, Mr Innocent. You know you've got that man wrapped around your little finger."

Justin just blushed, shrugging, before flopping back onto the bed. He had a lot to think over, he knew, but now that he was feeling better about things he didn't feel like being cooped up in his room all night. It'd been ages since he'd just hung out with anyone. "Deb, you don't mind if I go out, do you?"

"Of course not, Sunshine," she pushed herself off of the bed. "It's not like you've got school tomorrow." Cackling, she walked out of his bedroom.

Following her out of the room and downstairs, he grabbed the phone in the kitchen and made a quick call. Pleased to discover that Emmett was already at Woody's - he hadn't been there in what felt like months - he finally got changed out of his school uniform and into something Woody's-appropriate, and headed out to Liberty Avenue.

When he arrived, he found an unusual grouping seated at the bar: Em, Ted - and Mel.

"Hey, guys," he greeted, taking the spare seat next to Melanie. "What's up?"

Mel was busy smoking what looked like the next in a long line of cigarettes. He hadn't even known that she smoked at all. "Linds is marrying some French douche bag to help with the mortgage and so he can get his Green Card."

It was his own fault, really. He *had* asked.

Linds was marrying someone? A guy? "Did she turn straight?"

"He's gay," the guys retorted.

Oh. Still... "Isn't that like a felony or something?"

"No shit," Mel muttered, furiously stubbing out her cigarette and immediately lighting up another one. "Believe me, we tried to reason with her. The four of us went over there-"

"Four?" Justin asked, knowing that his maths skills were good and that Mel plus Ted plus Emmett didn't equal four.

"Brian came."

"Oh." Brian went? Things really must've been serious. "That sucks."

"The way he insinuated himself!" she declared, for what Justin suspected wasn't the first time.

"Right, like...like it was his house," Em agreed.

Ted nodded. "That he belongs there."

She puffed some more on the cigarette. "Like Brian and I were like a couple of strangers." Sighing, she hung her head. "This is all my fault. If it weren't for me, none of this would be happening."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Em told her. "You made a mistake, but now it's Linds that's making this one. Anyway," she continued cheerily, obviously trying to improve everyone's mood as he addressed Justin, "not that we aren't *thrilled* to see you, sweetie, but what're you doing here on a school night?"

"Don't you have homework to finish?" Ted quipped.

He shrugged. "I got suspended."

Mel stared at him. "You?"

"For two days. I saw this student getting bashed and my homophobic teacher wouldn't do anything about it. So I told him to fuck off." He felt proud telling his friends about it; even more so when they all laughed, and he was more convinced than ever that he'd done the right thing.

"You go, sweetie," Em toasted him.

"That brings back memories," Ted murmured. "Getting the shit kicked out of you on the playground."

"Mmm," Em replied. "Having lit matches thrown at you in the locker room." He paused. "Good times."

"Yeah."

After a moments silence they laughed, clinking their bottles together in understanding of their own individual rite of passage into queerdom.

Speaking of queerdom... "Oh, hey! While I have you guys here, I was thinking of starting some kind of gay-friendly club at St James. Any ideas?"

"Any ideas?" Emmett bounced precariously on his stool, spreading his arms wide. "Let's talk decorations!"

Not quite what he had in mind, but it was a start.

*

By the time they drove away from Liberty Avenue and turned onto Barker, it was after eleven and Justin was really, really horny. He wasn't drunk or even tipsy - but he was really, really horny (it was important, so he gave it a lot of attention).

"Ted, would you mind dropping me off at Brian's instead of Deb's?" Time for a booty call. He laughed at the thought, and decided that maybe he *was* a little bit drunk.

That was okay. Little was acceptable. He didn't think turning up at Brian's shit-faced again would be nice, given that he was trying to give up alcohol. Although Brian was a big boy - in more ways then one, ha - so he had to get used to seeing other people being drunk even when he wasn't. This was an important lesson to learn. Yes.

"You sure about that?" Ted asked, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "It's nearly midnight. He could be sleeping or...have company."

Justin hadn't even considered the having company part. A quick blowjob would make Brian forgive him if he woke him up, but he didn't want to walk in on Brian fucking some other guy. But if he didn't even take the chance... "I'm sure. It'll be fine."

"Of course it will," Em assured, leaning over to give him a brief, one-armed hug. "He'll bitch and he'll moan, but he'll be happy to see you."

Confident that Emmett was right, Justin leaned against him for the rest of the journey.

After being dropped off just outside Brian's building, he waved the others off and let himself into the building. Feeling too lazy for the stairs he pressed the button and waited for the elevator, smiling stupidly by the time he started knocking on Brian's door.

Okay, he may have been smiling stupidly for a while.

It didn't take long - three, maybe four attempts at knocking - for Brian to open the door. He didn't have bed head, so he couldn't have gone to sleep yet, but he did look kind of pissed off.

Oh, well. He who never took risks...something something. "Hi, Brian!"

His eyes narrowed. "You're drunk."

Shit. "I am not!"

Sighing, he just rolled his eyes. "What're you doing here this late?"

"I got suspended and I'm horny."

For once, Brian completely ignored the horny part. "Why the fuck did you get suspended?"

"Stupid homophobic teacher," Justin explained. "Total cunt. I told him to fuck off."

Looking vaguely amused now, Brian bit his lip before pulling the door open further. "Come on."

Trying not to look smug - and probably failing - Justin walked into the loft, turning around to face Brian as he slid the door shut and locked it, setting the alarm. "Thanks."

Brian shrugged it off. "So where'd you go?"

"Woody's," Justin answered, pulling off his jacket and throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the sofa. Brian was wearing a black wifebeater and a pair of jeans - and nothing else. There was something about Brian's bare feet that just drove him crazy. "With the guys." Moving forward until he reached Brian, he wrapped his arms around him and started nipping gently at his throat.

"The guys?" Brian asked, not stopping him.

"You know, the guys," he said, turning the nips into licks. "Em, Ted, and Mel." Pausing, he stuck his nose against Brian's neck and inhaled deeply. "You smell really good. I hear Linds is marrying a frog."

"Yeah, he looks like one too," was the reply as Brian slowly started walking them across the loft. "You are so wasted."

There he went with the accusations again. "I am not!" Brian gave him a look. "Okay, maybe a little." Guilt swept over him in a wave and he held on even tighter, stopping them from moving as he rested his forehead against Brian's chest. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here drunk. Not when you're trying not to drink. It was thoughtless and inconsiderate." He sighed. "I was just so horny!"

Laughing, Brian resumed their journey across the loft and into the bedroom. "You're forgiven. The power of my cock is understandably persuasive."

"See? You get it." At least someone did.

"Besides," Brian huffed as he gently pushed Justin onto the bed and started tugging off his sneakers, "seeing you act like a complete idiot is really not encouraging me to drink in any way, shape or form."

So he'd totally done the right thing after all - he was an exhibit on the dangers of drinking. Score. "Will you fuck me now?" he asked, as Brian shifted him about until he was lying on the bed.

"Later," he promised. "Get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," Justin yawned.

"Uh huh."

Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes. "I'm not."

"Tell it to someone who buys it, Sunshine."

He was going to say something in response to that, he really was, but he felt the covers being pulled up over him and it was so *comfortable* that he started to let his mind drift.

Until Brian's voice prodded into his murky thoughts.

"I stopped by Deb's tonight."

And he hadn't been there. He hadn't even thought about that, and he was too tired to worry about it now. "Maybe you should call next time."

"Yeah," Brian said quietly. "Maybe."

______°°°______

When Justin woke up the lights were still on. Blinking momentarily against the brightness, he was glad to realise that his head didn't hurt at all - then startled when a bottle of water suddenly appeared in front of his face.

"Here, drink this."

Shifting until he was sitting up, Justin took the bottle and studied Brian - sitting next to him on the bed, propped up against the headboard as he went through some paperwork. "Thanks." Twisting the cap off, he took a healthy gulp. "How long was I out?"

Shrugging, Brian frowned at something on the latest piece of paper he was studying. "About ninety minutes."

That explained why he didn't have a headache. Yet. Even if his head did feel clearer. Taking another swig, he pursed his lips afterwards and stared at Brian. "I'm sorry about-"

"Forget it," he interrupted, turning the paper over. "Frankly, if you *didn't* act like a normal teenager occasionally, I might get concerned."

"Are you implying that I'm not normal?"

Turning his head to finally look at him, Brian did the eyebrow thing. "I think you know the answer to that one, Sunshine."

Putting the cap back on the bottle, Justin placed it on the table on his side of the bed, before pulling Brian's paperwork out of his hands.

"Hey, I was reading-"

Letting them fall by the side of the bed, Justin straddled Brian even as he kissed him. Wrapping his arms around Brian's neck, pulling him close, Justin broke the kiss. "You haven't fucked me yet."

Brian didn't push him away; instead his hands slid up to play with Justin's hair. "Maybe I did while you were sleeping."

"I think I would've noticed," he whispered, smiling, kissing him again.

When that kiss broke apart, Brian's hands were firmly tangled up in his hair. "Your hair's getting long."

His hair? They were kissing, enjoying the actual foreplay before the actual fucking, and Brian wanted to talk about his hair? "Maybe if you fuck me hard enough it'll fall out," he nipped at his ear.

Snorting, Brian had finally had enough and rolled them over and away from the head board until Justin was lying on his back. "I like it like this." Tugging at Justin's top, he pulled it off over his head, placing a few kisses on his stomach. "Tell me about school."

And really, the things that happened at school didn't seem *quite* so bad when Brian was stripping him as he told the story - and even better when he got to strip Brian. It wasn't long at all until they were both naked, slowly kissing and biting, rubbing against each other. The whole time Justin talked about school, and as Brian rolled on top again he realised he could help.

"A gay-straight what?"

"Student alliance," Justin repeated, kissing Brian's chin. The guys had helped him come up with the concept at Woody's.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a club. A forum where students discuss issues, plan events. You know," he nudged Brian, "to promote understanding."

"I'm asleep already."

He'd been willing to listen earlier, but by now he'd probably reached the 'too horny to care' stage. "I need your expertise," Justin insisted, slapping him lightly on the thigh.

Brian simply looked down at him. "I think I've given you plenty."

Moving back, Justin shifted a little. "Your *business* expertise. It's a tough sell, especially at St. James." He made his best pleading expression face. "So say I brought this concept to you at your office. How would you market it?"

Debating it for a few moments with his eyes closed, Brian eventually caved and sighed. "Okay." Rolling away from Justin, he lay on his left side. "You're the client. Have a seat, Mr Taylor."

Dutifully sitting up cross-legged, he frowned when Brian started laughing. Unfolding a leg, Justin kicked him playfully. "What's so funny?"

"Well, this is just how I imagine all my clients," he explained, getting up until he was standing on the bed. "I picture them naked. I can't believe I'm doing this. Okay!" Stepping off the bed onto the floor, he started walking back and forth across the bedroom - not caring in the least that he was naked. "So you have this concept. The 'Gay-Straight Student Alliance'," he made quote marks with his fingers. "Let's all live together. Power to the people. Peace. That's boring as shit."

Justin watched him. "I could take out an Uzi and shoot everyone. That would be exciting."

"Well, at least you'd get their attention," he pointed out. "Now, we have to figure out a way to sell it."

"Right. How?"

"Same way you sell everything else." Sitting back down next to Justin, Brian held out a condom he picked up from the bedside table. "Sex."

Taking the condom from him, Justin stared down at it. "Sex?"

"You wanna get them in the tent, hand out these."

"Condoms?" It seemed pretty obvious now that he thought about it. Everyone was fascinated with sex.

"You said it was an alliance," he retorted, leaning over to the condom bowl and taking out a handful. "What better way for everyone to *come* together?" he finished, dumping them all over Justin's head and squashing the last few against his face - but he was grinning playfully when he did it.

Ass. Grabbing a condom, Justin laughed and threw it at him but Brian was already swooping in for a kiss, and - well. He wasn't about to stop him.

Ending up on his back this time, it wasn't long until Justin was groaning as Brian thrust into him. He knew that (well, read about the fact that) some gay guys genuinely didn't like fucking. It was nothing to do with preferring topping or bottoming; they just found the whole ass thing distasteful, and they had other ways of getting off anyway.

But as Brian thrust back in, over and over, hitting his prostate, Justin just. Couldn't. Imagine. Not loving every fucking second of it.

Tipping his head back he moaned, squeezing hard around Brian's dick and enjoying the resulting grunt. Brian leaned down to kiss him, and their mouths were still haphazardly pressing together when Justin, then Brian, came.

Panting, Justin licked his tongue over Brian's lips before pulling his head away to suck in more air. Arms tightening around Brian's relaxed body, Justin willed him not to move. He loved it like this - relaxed and satiated, with Brian still inside him. It was almost better than the sex.

Life felt fucking good right now. Hobbs and Dickson still existed, but Justin still had Brian, and when he went back to school his plan to get people to join his club would be a big fucking success because Brian knew everything there was to know about advertising.

He ran a hand over Brian's rapidly cooling back. "Brian?"

"Mmm?" He didn't move.

"The jerk-offs at school...Chris, Dickson...did anything like that ever happen to you?" Justin couldn't imagine anyone bashing or bullying Brian, but then he also knew that Brian had been a geek in high school.

"Mmm," he snuffled against Justin's neck, his words faintly obscured but understandable. "Well, once this straight football jock picked me up and dumped my head in the toilet."

Dumped his head in the toilet? Shit. He could picture that happening to Michael at school, but to Brian - even a geeky Brian? "What did you do?"

"I followed him to his locker. It was open, and his hand was resting on the open edge, you know?" Justin murmured his understanding. "He was laughing, so I slammed the door on his hand so hard it broke three of his fingers."

Holy shit. He knew Brian had a temper, but...holy shit. "Wow."

Moving, Brian began to shift. "That was the end of the season for him." Carefully pulling out - and not looking at him, Justin realised - Brian removed the condom and tied it off, dropping it off the side of the bed. Even though he was moving, he seemed still. Too still.

"Brian..."

"I'm fine," he said, reaching down by the side of the bed to turn the light off. When the blue light flicked off, he got up and turned the rest of the lights off with the switches by the loft door. Returning through the darkness, he lay back on the bed and turned away from Justin. "'Night."

Pressing his lips together, Justin stared at Brian's back before reaching out to place his hand against it. "You were just a kid, Brian." He couldn't say that he'd thought he'd done the right thing, because there was quite a difference between getting your head dunked and actually breaking bones. Of course, he didn't know the full history either; if this kid had been messing around with Brian for a while, or...he sighed. Life would be so much easier if he could just stop *thinking* so much.

Shifting his body closer to Brian's, Justin draped an arm over his waist and closed his eyes.

*

Justin had no school-related reason for getting up the next day, but he definitely had a Brian-related one. Brian being awake at all pretty much meant that he wanted to fuck, and he had no intention of missing out. Waking up when Brian's alarm went off, they fucked, showered, then fucked again.

Rooting around later in the kitchen cupboards, Justin was trying to decide what he wanted for breakfast when he found it.

A box of Lucky Charms.

A box of Lucky Charms that definitely hadn't been there the last time he'd looked in that cupboard.

"Brian?" he straighened up, waving the box around. "Did you buy this?"

"Sure," Brian said smoothly, fussing with a cuff-link as he stepped down from the bedroom. Too smoothly. "I picked a few things up yesterday."

But...Lucky Charms? "For Gus?"

"Sure," he said, picking his coffee up from the other side of the counter and sipping experimentally. "Or whoever wants it."

Then again, there was no way Mel would let Gus anywhere near processed shit like this, and he was probably too young to eat it anyway. And Justin'd had certainly never mentioned liking Lucky Charms, so Brian couldn't have bought it for...oh.

Okay. Every now and then, even he missed the obvious. "Cool," he said, taking two bowls out of a cupboard, and two spoons out of the cutlery drawer. "You wanna join me?" He made a point of asking the question as he turned towards the fridge, opening it to take the milk out. "Haven't had Lucky Charms for ages." It was a bad excuse and they both knew it - as if he couldn't manage to eat cereal by himself. But whatever helped Brian save face was a good thing.

As it was, Brian didn't make it difficult, settling onto a stool. "Why not?"

Not touching the box of cereal again, Justin let Brian open it and the bag inside, pouring some of the contents into the bowls. When he was done, Justin uncapped the milk and added that to the mix.

He didn't know what breakfast had been like for Brian when he was a kid - he had no first hand knowledge. Jack'd seemed like the kind of dad who wouldn't want his kids to eat anything 'sissy', but Justin seriously had no idea what Brian's mom had been like. He'd never mentioned her at all.

Regardless, this whole situation - and the way Brian was acting - made him strongly suspect that Brian'd never had Lucky Charms or anything like it as a kid - at least in his own house - and once he became an adult his own personal code wouldn't have let him buy any, even if he did want them.

Until now.

Sitting at opposite sides of the counter in the kitchen, they both dug into their bowls of cereal.

It took Brian all of ten seconds to say something.

"These taste like shit."

Grinning, Justin totally agreed. "Yeah."

______°°°______

After Brian left for work, Justin spent most of the day helping out at the diner - he might as well make some money while he was off school - and was told in no uncertain terms that he wasn't spending the night at Brian's that night.

"Christ," Deb said, "can you remember the last time you actually spent the night at my place? Not that I don't think you're good for him - 'cause God knows you are - and I know you're one of the few who can handle him. But every time your mom's called lately to talk to you, you're over at Brian's. And as much as I love the two of you, the deal was that you live with me - not Brian."

He hated that she had a point. "Do you tell her where I am?"

"I just tell her that you're doing what gay eighteen-year-old boys do - out sucking and fucking," she winked, but Justin wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

There was no way he was hiding his relationship with Brian - it was part of the reason he'd left home in the first place - and he was over eighteen, so legally mom couldn't do anything anyway.

But...she'd moan. Look at him disapprovingly. And generally irritate the fuck out of him with her passive-aggressive approach to everything. Mom hated open confrontation; instead she used carefully chosen remarks designed to infiltrate his brain and lay there, festering.

And, quite honestly, staying at Brian's night after night was starting to get exhausting. Not just physically, but emotionally. And, as he'd also discovered, sometimes Justin needed to get away from him. Escaping to Woody's last night and hanging with the guys without Brian had been great. It may have gotten easier, but dealing with Brian still required a certain kind of...management, and it was nice to take a break from that.

"Okay," he sighed eventually, earning himself a facial cheek squeeze from Deb, eagerly pulling free when the bell dinged and his order was up.

Later that evening, he was alone in the living room when the phone rang. Deb was still at the diner and Vic was taking a nap - his meds made him drowsy, sometimes - so Justin crossed the room and paused at the edge of the kitchen, picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"I wonder if you could help me with a problem I'm having."

Brian! Grinning, all thought of being tired vanishing, Justin just barely stopped himself from twisting the phone cord around his finger. Now was not the time to turn into a teenage girl. "What problem would that be?"

"I need someone to see to my needs."

He couldn't keep a straight face, which didn't matter because Brian couldn't see him anyway. "What kind of needs?"

"Physical labour," he replied. "It's quite strenuous activity, requiring a great deal of hard work."

Couldn't Deb have waited one more day to give him the guilt job? She seriously had the worst timing. "I'd love to assist you, Mr Kinney. Unfortunately, I'm fully booked until tomorrow evening." Holding his breath, he waited to see how Brian would react.

He simply paused momentarily. "There's no chance of rescheduling?"

"Sadly not. My manager is insistent that I maintain former contracts - at least for one night. I'm sure after that we'll be able to return to our previous work schedule." At least for a while. Deb tended to get distracted easily; probably because she always had so much going on.

"I see," Brian hmphed, sounding every bit the disgruntled businessman. "I'll admit, that's not what I wanted to hear. But I suppose we can't let this one lapse affect our working relationship."

Justin's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Trust Brian to find a way of saying they had a relationship without actually *saying* they had a relationship. The man was infuriating. And brilliant. "I concur. We have an excellent track record." He was grinning when he said it, knowing how ridiculous it sounded - and just how far from the truth it was.

Brian's voice reflected the same humour. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Taylor. But, very well. I'll see you after your regular work hours tomorrow. And, if you're agreeable, I thought we might try out a gay drinking establishment."

Justin's grin faltered, but only a little. Brian had clearly been giving it more thought. "If that's what you'd like, Mr Kinney, I'd be most agreeable." He'd go, and support Brian in whichever way necessary.

"Good. I'll contact some of our acquaintances and see if they'd like to join us, too."

They'd just about beaten the metaphor to death, and Justin fell out of character. "Including Michael?"

The pause this time was longer, Brian's breath the only audible noise passing through the phone line. "Yeah, I'll call him. See what he's up to."

Good. "Cool," Justin said, feeling like he'd managed to ruin both their moods with one question.

"Gotta go," Brian said quickly, "yet another new account to work my genius on. And...Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck with your gay club thing tomorrow."

Brian hung up.

Justin did too, smiling again, then almost jumped out of his skin when the phone rang immediately. "Hello?" he frowned, picking it up again, thinking Brian might have forgotten something.

"Hello, Justin."

His shoulders slumped in recognition. "Hey, Mom."

*

Back at school the next day, Justin got straight to work, giving no sign that he'd ever been away. Between classes and during recess he and Daphne hit the hallways, handing out condoms and flyers.

They ended up emptying the entire cardboard box they'd filled with condoms, handed out nearly all their flyers and - despite another run-in with Chris - Justin just *knew* things were going to go well.

The reality was a little different.

Eight people turned up. *Eight*.

Daph sidled up to him after school, in the classroom they'd commandeered. "I thought a lot more people would come, didn't you? I mean, considering all the condoms we handed out..."

"Yeah," he replied, glancing at the few students sitting at desks - most of them looked bored already, and were talking amongst themselves. "I guess they couldn't wait to use them." They shared a quiet laugh until someone else walked into the room.

"Hey!" Deb greeted, carrying a tray of...cookies? "Not a bad turnout, huh?"

Justin just stared at her. What the hell was she doing at his school? Had she ever even been there before? "Deb! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I thought you could use some cookies and moral support," she grinned, turning towards the other students and placing the tray on a desk near the front. "Here you go, kids. Enjoy yourselves." Embarrassed or astounded - maybe both - Justin smiled in bemusement and lifted his hand up to cover his face.

Daphne just laughed.

"Home baked," Deb continued, chuckling. "My great-aunt Faye - who was in Burlesque - said you should never go on in front of a hungry audience."

Appreciating the support in whatever form it came, Justin lowered his hand and smiled at her. He was really fucking lucky, sometimes.

Turning to face Daph, he shrugged. "Well, I guess we should get started, huh?"

Deb fussed over them some more - kissed Justin on the cheek, thankfully wiping the lipstick off afterwards, wished them both luck - and then squeezed herself behind a desk at the side of the room.

Stepping forward, Justin cleared his throat and addressed the room. "Could we have your attention, please?" Nothing. None of them paid attention; they just kept talking, passing the cookies between each other. Why'd they bothered coming at all? They had to be at least a little bit interested to even turn up, but now they seemed more interested in eating Deb's cookies.

Fine.

Justin opened his mouth.

"Faggot!" That got their attention. The conversation stopped, but Justin didn't. "Cocksucker! Homo! Fudge-packer!" Sure now that everyone's attention was focused solely on him, he continued, making sure to look at everyone. "Those are a few of the names that I've been called...because I'm gay." He'd never actually said that at school before. Everyone knew, he was sure - it was an 'open secret', especially since Brian had dropped him off after that first night. But this was different. It felt good. "I've also been told that I'm going to hell and that I should die of AIDS." He paused, thinking - hoping - that he wasn't imagining a few understanding faces. He didn't seem to be alone, after all. "Maybe the same thing has happened to you. That's why we're here. To see if we can learn to accept our differences and recognise our similarities. Because, gay or straight, we all want the same things."

Naturally, that was when Mr Dickson walked in.

"All right, Taylor. That's enough."

He glanced towards Deb instinctively. "We're just having a meeting."

"Did you get permission from the principal? Did you ask to use this classroom?" Shit. "Do you have an advisor?"

Standing up, Deb faced Dickson defiantly. "He's got me."

"And who are you?" he demanded.

She didn't back down. She was Deb - she wouldn't. "Debbie Novotny. Who are you?"

"I'm a member of the faculty."

"Then you'll be happy to know that we're having a little educational program here," she nodded towards the front of the class. "So why don't you sit down? You might learn something."

Clearly not impressed, Dickson held up a condom. "Is this a part of your curriculum?"

"You bet your ass it is."

That wasn't good enough for Dickson - he ordered everyone out of the room, then and there. The rest of the students put up no argument and slowly filed outside - but at least they left with some encouraging remarks.

Watching them walk out, Justin's mood darkened further when he saw Chris Hobbs outside the class with a friend, laughing. Justin and Daphne may not have been trying to hide what they were doing, but he wouldn't be surprised to learn that Chris had told Dickson exactly what was going on.

Fucker.

*

Brian picked Justin up from the diner, and could apparently tell right away that something was wrong.

"I take it your 'harmony for all sexual preferences' seminar didn't go well."

Justin wasn't in the mood. "Fuck off. And why are we driving, anyway? Woody's is just down the street."

Turning off of Liberty, Brian glanced at him. "You really don't take failure well, do you, Sunshine?"

Like Brian was any better. Instead of replying, Justin's response was a lack of response - a stony silence.

Sighing, Brian apparently elected to move on. "Mikey can't make it tonight - he and the good doctor are flying off to Paris first thing tomorrow. But he suggested we all drop by while he's packing. Ted and Emmett are meeting us there."

Oh. His mood lightened, just a little. He may have screwed up on the Gay-Straight Alliance front, but at least there was progress with Michael - surprising as it was. "Paris? Paris, France?" He couldn't picture Michael ever leaving the country, especially on his wage from The Big Q.

"Well I didn't mean Paris, Texas."

When they arrived at David's, Justin wasn't surprised to learn that he had a nice place. He also wasn't surprised to learn that David was paying for the holiday. Not that he thought there was anything wrong with that - Mikey didn't have the means to make that kind of money himself, and he and David were practically married anyway.

Ted and Emmett had already been there when he and Brian arrived, and the four of them had a lot of fun teasing Michael, accusing him of being a gold digger. The whole thing improved Justin's mood considerably - especially when Michael got defensive.

Justin even grabbed the video camera they were planning on taking with them, shooting film of the guys as they mocked Michael some more.

"Check out this luggage," Ted nodded towards the luggage in question.

"Ahh!" Em screamed dramatically, making Justin laugh. "It's even got his initials on it!"

Michael nearly blushed. "It does not!"

"My, my," Em regarded him with a smile. "Certainly going in style, aren't we?"

Rolling his eyes, Michael started poking Emmett in the side - making Em skip away. "You *told* me I shouldn't deny him the pleasure."

Ted smirked. "Oh, he must be delirious."

"Look," he explained, "I offered to help pay but he wouldn't let me."

"Don't worry, Mikey," Brian told him, coming to stand next to him. "You'll pay. One way...or another." Turning to Justin, he nodded towards the door. "Let's go to Woody's."

"Okay."

Wishing Michael a safe trip, everyone filed out of the house until Justin was the last one of the visitor's remaining. Turning the camera off, he handed it over to Michael. "You want my advice?" he grinned. "Hold out for a Rolex."

Michael just stared at him blankly.

Finding somewhere to park at Liberty at night was never easy, but they eventually managed to find a place for both cars. When they all met up by the Jeep, Brian turned to Ted.

"By the way, Theodore, I won't be drinking tonight because I'm a recovering alcoholic. Other than that, I'm the same asshole I always was." Turning away, he started walking towards Woody's, and Justin scrambled to keep up with him. Apparently Brian'd decided to go for the band-aid removal technique - get it all out in one sudden moment.

They didn't say anything for the first twenty yards, so Justin reached over to grab Brian's ass. Before long they were teasing and nudging each other, and Justin was laughing as they took the steps up to Woody's.

But that was when he turned his head to the right, and saw him. Chris Hobbs. On Liberty Avenue. He was with a bunch of his jock friends, obviously there to make fun or cause trouble.

"Shit!" Not even turning around, he reached out and managed to grab Brian's arm.

"What?"

"It's Chris Hobbs," Justin said, nodding towards him, still watching.

"That asshole from school?" Brian asked. "Forget about him."

Finally turning to face him, Justin met Brian's gaze. "He has no right to be here." Not if he was just there to point and laugh. Not after everything he'd done.

Brian studied him seriously. "He's not worth it, Justin. Forget about him."

He couldn't. He didn't *want* to. "No." Pulling away, he took the first step down when suddenly Brian's hand wrapped around *his* arm, and swung him back around until they were facing each other again.

"Justin..."

He was vaguely aware that Ted and Emmett were at the bottom of the steps, watching, probably wondering exactly what was going on. He was also vaguely aware that they were blocking the stairs for anyone who wanted to get in or out of the bar. But all he could see was Brian's other hand - his free hand - being held out towards him in clear invitation.

Fuck, he thought. I am such an idiot.

Standing up to jerks like Chris *was* important, but so were things closer to home. Brian was about to walk into a bar for the first time since he'd stopped drinking, and for once he was making it clear - absolutely making it clear - that he didn't want to do this alone.

There was no contest. Not when it came to Brian.

Taking his hand, Justin grinned up at him stupidly as he felt Brian's other hand release his arm. Stepping back up, Justin found himself on the receiving end of a brief kiss, and then Brian was turning away and tugging him up the stairs.

Feeling giddy for some reason, Justin laughed as they opened the door and strode inside.

Woody's was open for business, and its most popular visitor was back where he belonged.

______°°°______

It didn't take long for Brian to convince the group of bears using the pool table to leave - he may have been gone for a while, but he was still Brian Kinney. As far as Justin was concerned Woody's hadn't changed at all since Brian's last visit. There was the occasional new face, but nearly everyone knew who Brian Kinney was.

The downside of that was that everyone also knew that he'd been gone for a long time.

The whispers started almost immediately - fags were never subtle about gossip. Brian hadn't been in Woody's or Babylon for months, but he had been at the diner. Justin was a little surprised to realise that he must've been missing hearing gossip for a while - the boys of Liberty Avenue must've been talking about Brian after his sudden retreat from the club scene - but then he'd been spending most of his free time with the man of the moment, away from gossiping eyes.

Had Brian considered how the people who *weren't* his friends would react? Most of the men on Liberty had been fucked or rejected by him - which could lead to quite a nasty following.

So Justin kept a close eye on him, but Brian didn't seem to be bothered by anything at all. Well, except the game of pool they were playing.

"Fuck!" he cursed, as a striped ball ricochet out of the intended pocket.

"Hmm," Ted mused with obvious amusement, "it seems you're getting rusty in your old age."

"Not as rusty as you," Brian retorted, squinting down at the table, still holding on tightly to the cue stick. "I bet you even squeak when you fuck." Sighing eventually, he held the stick out to Ted. "Here, you take a shot. I'm getting drinks. What do you guys want?"

Ted just asked for beer; Emmett a Dirty Shirley. Brian headed for the bar and Justin decided to join him, figuring an extra pair of hands would save him the trouble of making two trips.

Brian smirked towards him as they walked. "Come to make sure I don't drink anything bad, Sunshine?"

"Believe it or not," Justin replied, "I do actually think you can take care of yourself. Just thought I'd help with the carrying." He wasn't upset - Brian getting defensive wasn't exactly unexpected behaviour, especially given the situation.

Reaching the bar, Brian leant against it and turned towards him. He stared at him intently for a while, seemingly trying to figure something out. "I can take care of myself, huh? That's good to know."

"Sure," Justin agreed. "You can take care of yourself. You just have a lot more fun when you let me babysit you," he finished with a mischievous grin, knowing that just because they were at Woody's, Brian wouldn't want him to take it easy on him. Though it could frustrate the fuck out of him, Brian loved being challenged.

It had the expected reaction.

"You little *shit*," Brian grabbed him, tugging him closer - then immediately started tickling. "I don't need you to fucking babysit me."

Oh, shit. Justin hated being tickled, and Brian fucking knew it. "Brian. Brian!" he screeched, trying to slap his hands away, trying not laugh and failing miserably. "Stop, stop it!" Justin bumped into a guy on a stool behind him and heard a grumbled complaint, but it didn't stop Brian for a single moment.

"Say it," Brian insisted, grinning.

The man was *evil*. Justin was trying to pull Brian's right hand away from his side when he gave in. "I didn't mean it! I was - shit - joking, okay!"

Smirking in satisfaction, Brian released him. "That'll teach ya."

"Oh, yeah," Justin stepped back quickly, still feeling paranoid, "the big, bad, Brian Kinney tickled me into submission. That's one to feel proud of."

He nearly jumped when a smiling Brian reached out to grab him again, but this time it was to pull him into a kiss. Not about to resist that, Justin didn't fight it at all, enjoying the feel of Brian's mouth against his even as his quivering fingers pressed against Brian's sides.

"You tickle me," Brian said against his lips, "and I will never fuck you again."

Sighing, Justin slumped his shoulders and pulled away - and it was only then that he noticed they were the centre of attention. This wasn't just gossiping queens or nosey fags - this was absolutely everybody in Woody's staring at them. Flushing, Justin looked away and leant next to Brian on the bar as they ordered their drinks.

Oh, well. At least he was back with a bang. Brian had always loved melodrama.

"And what do you want?" Brian asked, completely unfazed as he turned to look at him.

Okay. Justin could be unfazed too. "Whatever you're having."

He wasn't impressed, frowning. "Have what *you* want. We're in a fucking bar, for Christ's sake. Don't avoid alcohol just because I-"

"I *am* doing what I want," Justin argued. "Haven't I always?" It was the truth, but he did have another reason. When they kissed later - and they would kiss later - he didn't want Brian to taste alcohol on his mouth or in his breath.

Eyeing him sceptically, Brian turned back towards the barman. "What's the most disgusting non-alcoholic drink you have on the menu?"

Justin slapped him on the arm, and Brian ordered two ginger beers.

The rest of the evening went as fine as it could, and Justin witnessed more than a few Brian highs and lows. Every now and then he'd start behaving like a defensive asshole, but then suddenly he'd be handling the situation so well that Justin was almost convinced that he was dealing with a different man.

They played pool, Brian and Ted made fun of each other, Emmett squealed about Steve - Brian told him he should bring the guy along next time ("If he's that hot, I've probably fucked him.") - and they all wondered how Michael would enjoy Paris.

"He's going to *love* it," Emmett told them sincerely. "I've never been there myself, but it's always looked fabulous in the movies, don't you think?"

"The problem with France," Brian lined up another shot, "is that it's full of French people." Taking the shot, he nodded triumphantly when this one went in.

Ted translated the implication. "The French aren't exactly Brian's favourite people right now."

Right. Lindsay and her French husband-to-be. That entire situation sucked. Justin didn't know what the hell Lindsay was thinking. "I know you guys have already talked to her, but do you think there's anything else we can do to talk Lindsay out of it?"

"She's pretty insistent," was all the help Brian gave, leaning over the pool table again.

"There's always reporting her," Ted suggested, but it was clear no one was about do that.

"Oh!" Em snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. "We could report him for cruelty to animals!" Having no idea what Em was talking about, Justin just stared at him blankly until he started explaining. "He served rabbit. *Rabbit*. Bunny rabbit!" Huh.

"Need I remind you," Ted butted in, "that you ate some? And enjoyed it?"

"That's not the point," he sniffed. "I'm still opposed to the basic idea."

Justin had certainly heard of rabbit being served before, but he'd never eaten it himself. "What did it taste like?"

Ted and Emmett looked at each other. "Chicken."

Just then a hot guy passed their table - a newcomer since Brian's absence, Justin suspected - and eye-fucked Brian for a good ten seconds. Wasting no time at all, Brian stood up from his latest shot and lay the cue stick on the table. "I'm taking a leak."

He'd known this would be a possibility - Brian, back in his old stomping grounds after months away, reclaiming what he'd missed - so Justin plastered a smile on his face and let him do whatever he had to. "Okay!"

Ted didn't look at him. Emmett just smiled, very carefully not giving Justin a sympathetic look - thank God. Stepping around and away from the table, Brian approached Hot Guy and slowed right down as he passed him, scant inches between their bodies, initiating the eye-fuck himself this time...and then, completely ignoring Hot Guy, he turned back to face the guys at the pool table.

"Justin, you coming?"

Shock blinded him to a few things. Ted may have snorted out a laugh; Em may have been clapping, delighted; Hot Guy may have looked confused as hell - but Justin just saw Brian's small smirk, the fuck 'em all expression on his face, and the challenge in his eyes.

Don't back down, Sunshine. Not now.

In a few jogged steps he was next to him, ignoring Hot Guy and grinning up at Brian so widely his face was probably nothing but teeth. Realising that was a gross mental image he laughed, but shook his head when Brian looked at him curiously.

Throwing an arm around Justin's shoulder - and yes, Justin was very, very aware of how it looked to everyone watching and yes, it did make him very, very pleased - Brian guided the both of them into the bathroom, and then a cubicle.

When Justin locked the door, Brian turned him around and pushed him back against it, leaning in for a demanding kiss. Pulling back afterwards, Brian just looked down at him, and Justin waited to see what was going to happen.

Biting on his bottom lip, Brian spat it out. "I've given you plenty of reason to think so in the past, but..." he paused. "Even I'm not that much of an asshole."

"I know," Justin said quietly, "I *know*." And that was the kicker - he really *did* know. Probably better than anyone else. But sometimes even he forgot how far Brian had come, how much he'd changed. There'd been so many Brian behaviours he'd had to accept in the past, things he'd just had to get used to, and old habits were hard to break. As much as he liked to think he knew Brian well, could always judge his behaviour, every now and then the old insecurities cropped up and he forgot something vital he'd learnt.

But then he'd never claimed to be perfect. He was just doing the best he could.

"Good," Brian replied, accepting it for the truth it was. "Besides, shit like that really pisses me off."

"Shit like what?"

"Anyone with two brains cells could see that we were here together." Okay - there was *another* surprise. Jesus. "When I used to think you were just a fuck it didn't matter so much, but now that we're..." He stopped, either not knowing how to define it, or thinking he'd said too much.

The opportunity was there. Justin *had* to take it. "Fuck buddies? Partners? Happily monogamous?" With each question, Brian's expression got darker and darker. "Soul mates?" He knew he shouldn't be teasing him, that he was fucking up, but it was just so *surreal*. They were finally, actually talking about *them* - and they were doing it in a toilet cubicle in Woody's.

"Look," Brian warned, "all I know is that you're my best fucking friend and I keep fucking you. Which goes against pretty much everything I've ever believed in. Don't push it."

Justin's humour faded as the words sunk in. Holy shit. Best friend? He knew Brian and Michael hadn't been close for months now, but what about Lindsay, or...

Wow. He really *was* Brian's best friend.

Reaching up with his right hand, he tugged Brian's head down - meeting a glare, but no resistance - and spoke mere millimetres away from his mouth. "Promise not to tell if you won't."

When they returned to the pool table, their hair was mussed up and their clothes were wrinkled. Neither one of them gave a fuck.

Turning to Ted, Emmett arched an eyebrow. Sighing, Ted took a twenty out of his wallet and handed it over.

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