Chapter 34 - A Conspiracy

Justin

Last night, I was too fucking tired to react to Brian's news. I mean, it's great and stuff, but things had been ... well ... crazy at the diner. Kiki is sick again, so I had to work for two, and when I got home, Brian only just managed to get me upstairs before I passed out. But I did hear him tell me that the statements of certain people turned Claire's case, and Youth Welfare was willing to let the matter go. I guess they had a little chat with Father Tom, who explained a few things about Saint Joan. So today's party won't be just a surprise birthday thingy but also a victory party of sorts. I grin. Today is my twentieth birthday, and this time, Brian won't ignore it. And he won't give me a hustler, either. And I won't go to a concert at P.I.F.A. like I did last year. Shit. It's only been one year. One fucking year and I almost lost Brian, my sanity, and maybe even my life. And I gained not only a partner and a house, but a whole new life. Oh my ... how sappy can you be? But it's true. This non-marriage Brian and I have now – we'd never have gotten to this point if it hadn't been for Ethan. Or at least I don't think so.

I burrow my head in his pillow, breathing in his scent... Then it hits me. I'm alone. He isn't lying next to me. I sit up, my eyes wide. Where the fuck is he? My question is answered when I hear a loud noise downstairs – it sounded suspiciously like breaking china – and a number of swearwords. They are followed by a loud "Get your ass down here, Taylor, and help me straighten out this mess." Uh-oh. I wrap the sheets around me, and pad down the stairs. Oh shit! Apparently he tried to be oh-so romantic and let me have breakfast in bed. The only problem is that there were all those toys lying in the hall – I had tried to push them under the stairs, but evidentially I missed one of Gus' trucks. And Brian tripped over it. Now he's giving me his death-glare, and not even my puppy look helps. "This is all your fault." I see. And how do you figure that? "You had to have a birthday, didn't you? And you had to volunteer to sort out the mess my son left in his wake last time he was here. And you failed to do it properly!" He's busy wiping up the spilled coffee, and by the smell of it, he used the good – and fucking expensive – Colombian beans.

I'm about to lean down to pick up the shards of the mugs, plates, etc. when he stops me, "Are you completely insane? You're barefoot for fuck's sake! Get dressed!" I've known him long enough to not argue with him. Besides, it's sweet how he worries about my welfare. I'm half-way up the stairs, when he shouts, "And get a shower, Sunshine. You stink of greasy food." Hmm, I guess that's true. Fuck, the whole bed smells like the diner. I guess I better change the sheets before he gets even more worked up. After the bed linen is hidden away in the laundry basket, I start the shower, and sigh as I step under the warm spray. My eyes are closed, and my head is thrown back when I feel a gush of cold air along my back, which is soon replaced by a warm body. Firm hands are stroking my chest and stomach, and soft lips kiss a path along my neck. Once they reach my ear, I hear him whisper, "Happy Birthday, Sunshine." His voice is lacking any annoyance that was present just a few minutes ago, and I feel my legs turn to jelly at the love and, well, tenderness in those three words.

He turns me around, and I find myself entranced by his hazel eyes – just like I was when I met him. When I fell for him. And I feel it happening again, if that's even possible. He smiles, and if he doesn't give me any other present, this will be enough – more than enough, really. This smile of his, that always told me more than words ever could. Except for the time I stopped listening. "I'm afraid that my first present ended up on the floor, but..." the smile turns to his tongue-in-cheek grin, "I'm sure you'll enjoy your second gift..." And with that he drops to his knees gracefully, and his lips close around the head of my cock – half-hard already. It doesn't take long until I'm fully erect, and I'm glad for his hands on my hips because I'm not sure I could remain upright on my own. And then he swallows me whole, his hands on my ass now, massaging and squeezing... I'm losing it the moment he pushes a finger inside me and come down his throat. I force my eyes open, and fuck, he looks like the cat that got the cream – pun intended – and I'm bucking again.

I think I'm blacking out for a second, because the next thing I know is that I'm pressed against the cool glass, and he's thrusting into me. And he doesn't withdraw, but begins a slow rocking motion inside my tight channel, and I can feel my dick growing hard once more. I catch myself wishing that it'll always be like this. That we'll always have this connection, this strong pull, this... This bond that always brought us together, that made him go against his own set of rules, that made it possible for me to get closer to him than anyone had ever been – including Mikey and Linz. And somehow I think we will have it forever. Somehow I think it's nothing I have to worry about. So I don't and just push back, groaning as his cock grazes my prostate, and I'm seeing stars. "Justin..." Fuck. Just the sound of my name makes me shiver. Because I can hear it, can hear what he's really saying. I love you. It's been there even before the bashing – before the Prom when his feelings were almost painfully obvious. I could kiss Chris Hobbs for running into me that day and making me remember. Making me remember the look in those beautiful eyes when he swept me off my feet – literally.

I turn my head, and our lips meet for the first time today, and as his tongue caresses mine, his right hand closes around my dick, and somehow it only takes a few strokes, and I'm exploding again. And he follows my lead, moaning into our endless kiss. And somehow I think he can read my mind, because he stays inside me, drawing me as close as possible. Finally, of course, he slips out, and we both bemoan the loss of the physical connection, but know that... And I will so not continue this line of thought because he would have my balls if he ever found out about it. It's so fucking mushy, and he's still allergic to too much mawkishness. And I guess that'll never change. He's still Brian Fucking Kinney even if he settled down, even if he opened up in ways I never dared to hope for. He's still the Stud of Liberty Avenue, and I'm still the King of Babylon, and that thought makes me smile. He sees, of course, and raises an eyebrow in question. I shake my head, and turn around to grin at him. "I just... Love you, Brian..." That always works when I want to distract him. His eyes shine, and I know that he's no longer afraid of those words. He finally knows that he deserves to be loved, and that he is able to love someone as well. That he's safe with me...

"Love you, too, Justin..." There. Didn't I say so? My diversion tactic works just fine. He leans down to kiss the tip of my nose before reaching for the soap bar to wash me from head to toe. Oh, I forgot how great it is to be pampered like this. And then he surprises me by saying, "I know I always said that a birthday wasn't something to be celebrated, but I was wrong. Linz... She said something very true last year. I was just too scared to listen properly. She said that the fact that you were still alive after the bashing was more than enough reason to celebrate, and she was right. But I was afraid that if I gave you any gift – other than that fucking hustler – you would know how much you meant to me. And somehow I couldn't let you know." Shit! He's apologising, isn't he? I mean, I figured it all out myself, but to hear it from him... He's smirking now, "I suppose I blew my cover after the fiddle fuck shot me, didn't I?" I snicker, not wanting to think of that moment too much, and nod. "I guess it's just as well... Because the house would have been a damn give-away, anyway." He turns off the water, and drags me out of the stall, drying me off with one of those huge fluffy towels he insisted on buying.

And when I step back into the bedroom, I see two trays with fruits, and toast, and cereals, and God-knows-what on the bed. The only thing that is missing is coffee. Oh well, I'm awake anyway, so it doesn't really matter. Soon, we are lying side by side, feeding each other pieces of apples, bananas, French toast, and all the other delicious stuff he put together. Finally I'm dropping down on the mattress, too full to eat even one more grape. He grins, reaches for his bedside table to retrieve a small envelope and drops it onto my head. I guess I should be pissed at that, but I'm too curious to see what he got me. I've been racking my brain over his hint – in style – but couldn't come up with anything. So I'm tearing up the envelope to find two first-class tickets to – shit! I'm so stupid! Of course! Where else can you celebrate in style? I grin at him, and he smiles back, "I guess my choice meets with your approval?" I nod, and he smirks, "But I won't, I repeat, I won't spent the whole time in museums this time! There are shops we have to check out, not to mention the gay scene..." Yeah, right. This is my birthday present, and I drag him to every gallery and museum if I want to. And if he takes offence to that – tough! Well, alright. So I won't do that to him.

But I certainly want to see the Tate Britain, the National Gallery, the British Museum, and not to mention the Tate Modern. And maybe I can even drag Bri to the Globe Theatre, at least for a tour of the building. And then there's all the musicals... And, yes, the stores. Harrods, Liberty, and Selfridges come to mind. I guess I'm going to drive him crazy with my shopping for souvenirs, but how often do you visit London, I ask you? And I want one of those shirts – My ... went to London and all I got was this lousy T-shirt. That'll be perfect for the Mollusc. We can pretend that it's the only thing we got her, and only once she's close to tears... I know, it's mean, and unfair and stuff. But she's my annoying little sister, so I'm entitled to it, aren't I? She made my life a living hell after all, so I can repay her for it, right? Right. Oh, I can't wait for Spring Break.

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Brian

I think Justin is really looking forward to our little trip. At least he's beaming like mad and tells everyone that I'm taking him to London and stuff. Linz is of course dragging him away to tell him what he has to visit – fucking artists! Well, at least that gives me a chance to take Mel and Claire aside to see if dearest Joanie is really and truly finished now. Cause I wouldn't put it past her to try something else after Youth Welfare squashed her attempts to take the ex-Spawn away from Claire. But Mel grins and shakes her head, "She can try all she wants, it won't do her any good. Besides," she exchanges a look with my sister, and I'm getting scared here, "we've been thinking." Oh fuck! When Mel starts thinking, I'm always forced to do something I don't want to in the end. "You know, you are Claire's brother – and I'll pity her for it as long as I shall live..." Fuck off, Mel! "Anyway, if you're okay with it, she could sign some papers that would make you the kids' guardian as soon as something happens to Claire..." I'm not sure what makes me nod, but somehow I do, and suddenly my arms are wrapped around two silly women. Fuck!

The boys themselves are busy playing with their cousins and Molly. Or rather, Peter is playing with Gus, while John is trying to protect Jenny from Justin's sweet little sister. I guess someone should intervene, but maybe we ought to let the kids fight this out themselves. Besides, the sight of John hovering over Justin's daughter – our daughter – is just ... well ... adorable. I never thought he had it in him. Justin and Linz choose that moment to join us, and the little shit is going "Aww" and "how sweet" and then he actually dares to inform everyone that John is almost as cute as I am. I beg your pardon?! I don't do cute! Never have, never will. And that's final. "You should see him with Jenny. He's baby-talking to her, and the way he holds her, like she's the most precious thing in the whole wide world..." I think there will be bloodshed later on. No one gives away such secrets and lives another day. Not even Justin. Or maybe... Well, I already paid for the trip, so it'd be a waste of money.

Mel catches my eye, and smiles. Smiles! Melanie Marcus smiles at me. I'm still not used to that, and somehow I doubt that I ever will get used to it. Sure, I like her – in some really sick way. And she's the mother of Justin's child, and that thought alone fills me with such pride that I can hardly stop myself from grinning like a lunatic day in, day out. I mean, the thought that Justin's a father. I'm trying to forget that it was Mel who popped out Jenny. If it had been Linz, Jenny would have blond hair, and I'll never forgive Mel for screwing that up. I know they all think I'm being childish, but so be it. Jenny is Justin's kid, so is it wrong that I want her to look like her daddy? That I want another Sunshine? Mel's voice breaks me out of my reverie. "Who would have thought that Brian would ever be a proper father. I guess it's true what they say about daughters and their fathers..." You bet. Even if she isn't my biological daughter. "And who knows, maybe there will come the day when the two of you have your own kid, you know, as full-time parents..." Justin looks startled, and I just glare. How could she?!

Luckily Daphne rescues me then, and she's bouncing like Emmett. "Seven weeks! It's only seven weeks, Brian! I'm so happy for you." Yeah, thanks Daph. Why don't you just shout it out for everyone to hear? Women! "Justin's mom told me that she finally found a venue, and she took me there last week... It's a fucking palace! Did you already think up a plan? You know, how will you get Justin there without giving anything away?" I nod and explain my idea to her, and she's smiling, and pulls my head down so she can kiss my cheek. "I really can't wait. It'll be so exciting. Even though it won't be legal here, but it's the meaning behind it that counts, right?" Does she ever stop to breathe? "Brian?" Suddenly she seems all serious, and I want bubbling Daphne back. "I was really afraid you wouldn't make it. And I'm, shit, I'm proud of you. Because you took him back and became the man he always saw in you – and more. You are good for him, you always were." For some reason, praise from Daphne means more than praise from anyone else. Because she's Justin's best friend... Now I have to hug her, and she starts bouncing again. "You know, of course, that I still have this crush on you, right?" I nod, and chuckle. Of course she does. I'm prefect after all...

"Who has a crush on you, Brian?" Fuck! He had to hear that. Damn it all. It's not like he doesn't know that his friend simply adores me – who wouldn't? I turn my head to gaze at Daphne, and she's whistling to herself, glancing around as if our little conversation was none of her business. Smart girl. But I'm having none of that. If I go down, I'll drag her with me because she landed me in this mess. So I grab her and pull her close. She gasps, and I use that moment to cover her lips with mine. "Brian!" Justin sounds shocked, and I have to chuckle. I break the kiss, and Daphne looks – well – flushed. She's actually a little wobbly and I have to hold on to her so that she doesn't drop to the floor. My blond twink just shakes his head and starts giggling. "You know, Daph, I love you and all that. But I'm afraid this kiss will be everything you ever get from Brian. I don't share..." Yeah, well, and I don't like being shared so that's okay.

Daphne has finally regained her composure, and is glaring at me. "You had to do that, didn't you? Give me enough to dream about but not see it through." I shrug. "Lucky for you that Justin loves you so much, and that I love him. Else you'd be a dead man." She turns to Justin and hugs and kisses him. "I think I understand what you see in him. I mean, if that kiss is anything to go by, he must be simply stunning in bed. It's a shame really," she heaves a dramatic sigh, "all gorgeous men are either taken or gay. Especially in Pittsburgh. It's not fair. You know, we girls also want to have some fun..." Mel and Linz are joining us at that moment, and Mel suggests that Daphne tries out the life of a dyke. She shudders – just like Justin and I. "Um, I think I'll pass, Mel. I'm sure my Prince Charming is out there somewhere. I just hope he's something like Brian..." I smirk, and now it's Mel's turn to wince. "And for the time being, I'll just dream of that kiss..."

I give her my tongue-in-cheek grin, and Justin grumbles. "I knew it! I knew this would happen. She's been bugging me for details – you know, about our love life – anyway. It'll only get worse now. Well, done, Bri, very well done!" He stalks off, and we start to chuckle. I think Mel even slaps me on my back and tells me that a possessive partner is always a good thing, and that Justin is very possessive, indeed. Yeah, like I need her advice. I already know that Justin has these jealousy issues that have nothing to do with my tricking. Just like I can't stand by and watch Emmett drape himself all over my partner. And if that isn't fucked, then I don't know what is. But maybe it's also a good thing. Because it keeps our relationship passionate and alive. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with passionate. On the contrary.

I gaze from the Munchers to Daphne and back, and smile. "I guess it's just as well that I catch the three of you... Mel? How's the research doing?" She grins and tells us that she sees absolutely no obstacle, provided Father Tom agrees to go through with it all. He's going to risk his career within the church, but somehow I think that won't stop him. "And it will be semi-legal, yes?" Mel shrugs and says that as long as we don't get a new law, this is as legal as we can make it. She's actually winking at Linz who's shaking her head. Mel would be forced to convert, and she already went against her beliefs when allowing Jenny to be baptised. So Linz doesn't even want to talk about this. "Okay then. I called Father Tom, and he can't wait to do it... I guess he hopes that it will somehow change my dearest mother's opinion, but I'm doubting it. On the contrary." When he mentioned it, I was even willing to call it all off, or at least his involvement. He's done so much for us already, and this could be the end of him, professionally at least. But he just waved it off and told me not to worry.

I'm turning to Linz, "I finally figured out a way to go about the whole thing..." The Munchers are as taken with my plan as Daphne was, and even Mel is hugging me. Things are getting a little out of hand here, and I have to leave them before I'm turning completely mushy. I've noticed a disturbing trend. And it's fucking scary, boys and girls. Because I've changed so much in less than a year, and instead of feeling shitty about it all, I'm actually happy. No, not happy. I'm fucking elated. Uh-huh. And I'm a fucking dyke. I guess that's been firmly established by now. Or, even worse, I'm a love muffin like Mikey and the professor. Joy of joys. And just like them, I feel like we could do with a child of our own – in a few years, that is. Provided Mel can keep her fucking mouth shut. The moment she lets something slip in front of Linz, I'm done for. Then it'll be "Oh, Brian. You know you only have to ask" here, and "I'd love to carry a child for you" there. And somehow I don't think I want either of the Munchers to be the mother of any kid Justin and I... Oh fuck it.

"You're thinking too much, Brian. Don't." That's Kathleen. She's got this grin on her face that makes me want to punch her. It's as if she wants to say "I know something you don't" and that's fucked. "Then again, go on thinking. Might bring business my way." She bats her lashes, and I'm so fucking screwed here. How did I end up being friends with a shrink? Fuck! Oh, I know. It was Justin's fault. He had to be the perfect little WASP, didn't he? He had to invite Eamon and Kathleen that first time, and now they have made themselves comfortable in our circle of friends and aren't likely to leave any time soon. Great, just great. "You know, rumour has it that you were a piece of shit last year around, is that true?" I glower, but what would send everyone else running only makes her arch an eyebrow. So I shrug. "Well, I'm glad that you came around." Not nearly as much I am. But I'm not telling her. She knows enough already. More than enough. Fuck. If she ever decides to forget about her oath...

"You know, I shouldn't be telling you this. But then again, it wasn't an official session, so..." What the fuck is she on about now? "You are aware that I've been working with Justin, right?" I nod. It was one of the things I more or less forced Justin to do. Right after we came back from Paris, actually. When I realised that talking to Kathleen was helping me to get a new perspective on things, and after accepting that talking to me simply wasn't enough for Justin to get over certain things... Well, he's been in therapy ever since. Even though it's not really therapy. At least not anymore. Kathy is a friend who simply helps us when things get a little too messy. Yes, and Ted is going to win this year's King of Babylon Contest. "Well, Justin told me about that hustler and Vermont... And I can tell that you still blame yourself for all of that. Don't! Admittedly, that hustler was a bad idea, but you had no other choice as far as your trip was concerned. And he understands that now. He knows why he didn't get it back then. And he managed to forgive himself for it all – just recently. I think the house and Jenny did the trick... But ... the thing you're planning ... it'll never work if you can't stop this guilt trip you're still on. Let the past rest and look towards your future."

Fuck her! Why the fuck does she know me so well? "I understand that there are things that you wish to set to rights. But instead of focusing on those, you could do something much better. You could allow yourself to be happy. For good. Don't try to undo the things you did wrong, and don't try to wipe away bad memories. Least of all with that step you wish to take." Oh damn. She's fucking right. Why did I choose that particular date? Because of all the shit that happened at the Prom and last year. "I'm not saying that it's not a wise decision to replace the bad memories with good ones. But don't do it solely for that reason. Because then you'll carry the bashing and the shooting with you forever." Shit. That's the last thing I want. "All you have to do, Brian, is to let go. Stop blaming yourself for Chris Hobbs' and Ethan Gold's actions. And use that day as a new beginning for both of you. To finally let go and look forward. Embrace the future, and don't look back..."

I nod, and draw her close enough to kiss her forehead. Because now I realise why I chose that day, and why it was the right choice in the long run. It will always have a special meaning for us – not because of the bashing or the shooting, no. But because of the good things that happened. Because two years ago, I went against everything I believed in and came to his Prom. And last year I finally told him that I loved him. Those are good memories. So in order for it all to work out, I should stop trying to erase what happened in the garage or in front of the jeep. We should rather celebrate the other things. And we will. And fuck if I don't know how to do that...