Chapter 46 - A Family Weekend

Justin

You should never plan ahead. As in never ever. Cause the moment you do, the fates decide to spoil your lovely schedule of fucking and sucking and set you up with two little kids for the rest of the weekend. Fuck! You see, after spending Friday night at the loft, and driving over to the diner for breakfast – and I still don't get it how my car ended up in one of the diner's parking lots – we decided on a quiet weekend at home, or rather a not so quiet weekend in bed. And we only wanted to leave for the obligatory family dinner on Sunday. That was the plan – and what a charming plan it was. I have to say my ass and cock were really looking forward to it. But, as I mentioned before, the fates had other ideas. The fates ... also known as Mel and Linz.

They were waiting for us when we pulled up in front of Britin, and for a second I hoped they just wanted to visit – you know, to see how Brian was doing – or to gloat a little ... whatever. Five minutes later, we knew we were fucked. Okay, so we had offered to take the kids whenever the girls felt like doing their unspeakable Munchers stuff. But why does it have to be this weekend? Mel explained that Linz had been working her ass off for my show – fuck Mel and her Jewish guilt shit – and so they decided to spend a last-minute vacation in some small inn / hotel near Harrisburg – sans the kids, of course. And since we're their daddies... Did I mention our plan of fucking and sucking? Pretty much out of the question with Jenny and Gus around. Especially since Gus was bouncing around as if his breakfast had consisted of nothing but sugar.

And he's still bouncing half an hour later while we pack the kids into the Sharan to take them – somewhere. I suggested the zoo – I mean, Gus loves it, and last time Brian didn't even get spat at ... yeah, cause I did – but Brian gave me this are-you-out-of-your-fucking-mind look and said we should drive to the river and take it from there. Works for me as well since there's this lovely little playground near the riverfront restaurant – where Brian will take us for lunch, I'll makes sure of it. But he's a step ahead of me. While I'm pulling out of the driveway, he first calls the operator and then the restaurant to make reservations for a – fuck, I'm so glad that my heart is in perfectly good shape, otherwise I might have suffered a little attack or something cause Mr I-hate-this-domestic-shit just made arrangements for a family brunch on the restaurant's deck. I'm so not imitating Gus right now...

He's fucking amazing – Brian, that is. About a year ago, he'd have removed Mel and Linz from his home by their ears if they had sprung something like this on him without any warning. And now he seems to be fucking thrilled that our weekend plans have been thwarted. Sure, he grumbled and huffed, and even whined a bit. And just for the record, we all know that Brian Kinney doesn't whine. Ever! That's Mikey's prerogative. Yeah, sure! Anyway, despite all the huffing and puffing, he still took Jenny's diaper bag like that wasn't out of the ordinary. And maybe it isn't for him. He practically worships the ground she crawls on, and most of the time even steps down from his high-and-mighty pedestal to change her. I swear, I thought I was seeing things the first time I witnessed it. He's so fucking tender when handling her. And I know that he thinks of her as our daughter – and she is, just like Gus is our son. Even Mel seems to be okay with that.

Mel and Brian – that's a shocker still. Somehow they managed to overcome their differences and are now... "Um, Sunshine? Hate to break you out of your musings, but... You better turn right here..." Oh shit! I almost missed my turn. Fuck! And Brian knows just why that is. I'm surprised he hasn't called me... "A little brainy, aren't we?" There you have it. He can be such a shit – and doesn't even have to try. Cause he doesn't mean this in a positive, life- and intelligence-affirming way. Oh no. It's what he calls me when I'm getting into my brooding-mode, and he thinks my brain might explode from overuse. Fucker! However, Gus is around, and you can always count on Gus to make Brian squirm. He pipes up now, asking Brian why I'm brainy. Let's see how our advertisement genius gets out of this one. "Well," he turns around a bit to face his son, "you know what Mommy said about being very attentive when you cross the street?" Shit! I don't think I like where this is going. I see Gus nod in the rear-view mirror, and Brian continues. "When driving, you have to be even more attentive, Gus. Lots of things to consider, you know... Like signs, and traffic lights..."

Gus grins and mutters something about catching the right turn, and Brian pushes his tongue into his cheek. "Exactly! Now, your Daddy Jussie likes to analyse everything that's happening, and while that is a pretty smart thing to do most of the time," he winks at me, "I think we can both agree that he shouldn't do it while driving..." I know I'm repeating myself, but ... he's such a fucker! But it's also kinda endearing how Brian explains stuff to Gus, patiently answering every question the little boy might have. Shit, and he seriously thought he'd be a bad father... He's fucking great with the kids, and I believe he'd be brilliant as a full-time parent as well... 'Don't go there, Justin. Take things as they come, but don't start hoping for something he might not be able to give you...' Brian chuckles. "You're doing it again, Sunshine."

Now Gus wants to hear the story of my nickname again, and Brian smiles fondly at the memories that particular tale evokes. Of course, he doesn't mention the bashing. However, I'm getting the impression that it didn't take Brian until that night to understand why Deb always called me Sunshine, even though he said as much. Anyhow, Gus apparently likes Brian's explanation and asks if he has a Sunshine smile as well, and if Brian would mind him calling Jenny Sunshine Junior. I think it's safe to say that I never saw Brian like he is now – shaking with laughter. Me ... I'm trying to fucking concentrate on driving while I'd love to give those two clowns a piece of my mind. Yes, Jenny inherited my trademark smile – and my eyes, and my tendency to queen out big time... But if you look closer, she is as much Brian's kid as she's mine. She's already a small label queen, only wearing the most expensive baby clothes – courtesy of a certain ad-exec who wishes to remain anonymous.

"Justin? Parking lot ... right there..." Fuck! If I keep this up, he'll never let me drive them again. I'm pulling up in front of the restaurant, and the moment I pull the handbrake, Brian's in my face – and I mean that in the most literal way... By the time he pulls away, Gus is giggling and clapping his hands, and I'm decidedly light-headed. "There you are. Now you really have something to think about..." Then he's off and his seat's vacant in record time, and he snatched up Jenny and disappears from view. Gus is chuckling even harder and demands that I help him out of his own seat. I do, lock the car, and as I turn back to our little copy of Brian – cause he is, he really is – he's holding out his hand for me to take, and we set off on our search for Brian and Jenny.

We don't have to go very far. Brian has found an empty bench close to the playground and is now pointing out things like ships and families and dogs and whatever-the-fuck-else to Jenny. Shit. Where's the digital camera when you need it? Or my sketchbook? Gus is tugging on my hand, a huge frown on his usually sunny face. "Dada love Jenny more than me?" Oh fuck! How do you explain stuff like this to a two-year-old? How do you tell a kid that his Dada was fucking terrified of turning out like his own father, but that he's gotten over that misconception by now? And then I know what to say – just like that. I bend down to meet Gus' eyes and explain that Brian is trying to do Mel a favour by making sure that Jenny turns out to be a second little Kinney. Cause he's so fucking proud how well Gus turned out... Gus bounces. "Dada wants Jenny to be like me?" I nod and he giggles.

An hour later – Gus finally grew tired of the slide and swing – we're walking around the park. Jenny is resting against Brian's chest in this strap-on thingy I never thought I'd see him wear – like I said, I'm just the biological father here, and Brian is doing his best to forge a tie and shit like that. It's nothing to do with the fact that he's absolutely smitten with her, oh no. Gus is walking between us, chatting and babbling away happily. Once in a while, we lift him off the ground, making him squeal delightedly. I can almost see the smile that threatens to break Brian's face in half, but he manages to cover it up by glaring at all those homophobic idiots who stare at us like our little family is some scientific experiment gone wrong.

At some point – we just passed two elderly ladies and hear one of them mutter how we'll go to hell and shit like that – Brian snaps. But instead of telling them to shut up, he just places his left hand at the back of my head and draws me into a steaming kiss. Gus once again chuckles like mad, and I hear something that sounds like "The poor child...", and that does it for me. I'm about to tell them how happy the poor child really is when Brian drags me away. Fucker! Like it's okay if he glowers at everyone, but if I want to defend our family it isn't? That's completely fucked, even for Brian. But then I see him point at Gus and Jenny, and I understand. I mean, Gus is used to Brian being ... well ... controversial. But I am sweet and loving Daddy Jussie, and Brian doesn't want to taint that image. That, and he doesn't want me to get all worked up again. I guess he is a little scared of me when I'm in full battle mode...

I'm grinning at my own private joke, and Brian's just shaking his head and then he's kissing me again – to make a point, I guess. Cause if there's one thing that really gets him fuming it's this – someone suggesting that Gus and Jenny aren't happy, that there's something wrong with the way we raise them. And that's not exactly surprising, is it? After the shitty childhood he's had, he is doing everything to ensure that Jenny and Gus know ... all the things he didn't. Starting with the basics. Our kids – and I don't get a kick out of that, oh no – our kids will never have to wonder if they are loved. And whichever path they'll choose to follow in their lives, we'll be there to support them – well, unless they want to become serial killers or something like that. Brian's family – they were never interested in him, only in his money, and Brian gave it because despite it all they were still his family, and he wanted them to – if not love him, then at least to acknowledge him as one of their own...

"Justin?" Uh-oh... "What the f..." Yes, Brian. Gus is here, and we wouldn't want him to pick up certain expressions, would we? "Whatever is wrong with you today? Did the thinking bug bite you?" That cracks Gus up, and even Brian has to smirk. "You know, I really appreciated how you ripped Debbie a new one..." Yeah, cause he'd never do it himself, too scared that she might turn on him. "But that doesn't mean you have to right every wrong right now." He locks eyes with me and adds offhandedly, "Not that there are many wrongs left as far as I'm concerned..."

It's things like this that remind me why I latched onto him the way I did all those ages ago and never let go – save for my little trip into insanity, of course. It's these little things that he'd never have said in those months after the bashing and before my birthday. And after the Vermont disaster... That day when I visited Ben at the Allegheny, and Mikey was this close to falling apart ... I really was fucking deaf. He told me how Brian had said that he was strong enough for the both of them, how Brian wouldn't have... I still don't know why he said it. No, that's not true. Now I know it. He wanted me to see, to fucking open my eyes and see what was really going on. But back then I was just...

Sometimes, you have to love the Monster, cause its rumbling now breaks me out of my musings, and Gus is bouncing around because there might be fries for him soon, and Brian just shakes his head at us and leads the way to the restaurant. But before we go in, he pushes me against the wall, sucking the air out of my lungs. When he eventually draws back, because we're still human and need to breathe once in a while, he murmurs against my cheek. "Stop brooding, Sunshine. It's unbecoming. To quote Auntie Em: 'We're here, we're queer, and we're going to have a fabulous time.' Fretting about things that are long gone is a big no-no. Okay?" He grins, and I know I am too and I can only just stop me from acting like a total brat by chanting ... well ... what I chanted that morning he was driving me to school... Cause he does care about me, and he fucking loves me so very much indeed. Thank God he's opening the door and doesn't see the shit-eating grin on my face. "After you, my dearest wifey." Shit! His eyes are twinkling, and his tongue is pushed into his cheek... And I thought I was on to him.

---

Brian

I really don't want to know what was on his mind just now. But it's not hard to guess, cause it's not as if I'm not looking back sometimes ... just to make sure I'm not fucking things up again. But Justin has this masochistic streak, and whenever things are going great, his brain does its utmost to remind him of stupid fiddlers and baseball bats and God-knows-what-else. I think it's because he finally remembered the best night of his life... Been there, done that... But I got over it, thanks to him. Shit. That's another reason why I never wanted this relationship crap – you have to talk about stuff. Well, there's no better time than the present. Gus is munching his fries, starring at the water like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen – I guess life at the Munchers' is fucking dull... And Jenny just fell asleep in her little seat. Who'd ever have thought that I would become a fucking family man at some point? 'Focus, Kinney! First you've to talk sense into Justin, then you can ponder the wonders of life.'

Right. "Justin?" He looks up from his plate – and once again I'm wondering where he's putting it all, cause it's fucking unfair that he can eat whatever he wants without having to worry about his weight. Well, just you wait till you hit thirty and your metabolism – right now that of a hummingbird – slows down. Payback's a bitch, especially if Mother Nature is involved. Anyway, he looks up, smiling rather sunnily. Yeah, cause there'll be tirami-fucking-sù for desert, and he plans on sharing some of it with me. What a fine act of selfless generosity – also known as Justin's own brand of deviousness. 'What did I just say about focussing?' Um, right... "Could you do something for me?" The word "anything" is on the tip of his tongue, but then he censors himself – because "anything" can be quite dangerous with me. And how the fuck do I know this shit? Can I suddenly read minds or do I simply know him far too well?

This time, I'm catching myself before the little voice at the back of my head can get a word in, and I see Justin shrug and smirk. Okay then... I'm quickly checking that Gus is still preoccupied with watching anything and everything, and then I'm treating Justin to my tongue-in-cheek grin, muttering, "Could you tell your brain to stop living in the past? Cause, you see, it's over. Finito. Kaputt. You can't undo anything that went wrong, even if you spend the rest of your life wishing for it. However," I'm reaching for his left hand now and run my thumb over the platinum band sitting on his ring finger, "a blond twink once told me that we can learn from our past mistakes – and you know how I don't do repeats, so... I have to admit he was right ... he often is." Shit! I'm so mushy it's uncanny, and I so want to check if my dick's still attached cause I obviously turned into a dyke. Fuck!

And what does the aforementioned blond twink do? He tries to blind me with his smile cause Christmas and Easter and his fucking birthday came very, very early apparently. "I guess I'm a little too brainy for my own good, huh?" You don't say, Sunshine... He's gazing at me, and I feel like I'm drowning in those blue pools. I did mention that I'm a lesbian, yes? Good. Cause I am. I swear the God-Stud of Liberty Avenue – may he rest in peace – is fucking tossing and turning in his grave. Cause this – the person I've become – is something he never wanted to be. Something he always mocked. Little did he know about persistent little brats who make you feel things you never thought you were capable of. Well, from where I am now, I can say one thing, and I don't care if my dick will go permanently soft – well, it won't, it had time to get used to this romantic bullshit – I'm glad he's gone. With things being what they are, I don't need him anymore... Fuck. This thinking bug is contagious. But Justin doesn't notice, thank God. He's staring at our linked hands and whispers, "I just waited for..."

"...for the other shoe to drop?" Did I really just finish his sentence? Shit! I used to fucking hate it when couples did that. 'Yeah, cause you had no one to do it with...' Can you murder the little voice inside your head without killing yourself in the process? Will have to read up on that. But not right now. There are more important matters that require my attention. "It won't drop. We won't let it, okay? Before, you had to sort out your own problems, but ours as well – without any help from me. No wonder we crashed and burned. But now we both want this to work, I thought you understood that by now." He nods and this whole situation is far too sappy for my liking, so I add, "Besides ... that shoe is Prada, and you know how I feel about Pradas..."

Now he snickers, "Yeah. Prada is your God. And so are Armani, Gucci, Dolce ... need I go on?" Little shit. "Brian?" Uh-oh. "I'll tell my brain, okay? But you know how stubborn it can be, so you might have to remind it again and again to stop brooding. The best way would be to ... you know ... keep it occupied." Shit. He's leering, and practically drooling all over the place. And there's shit I can do about it here. I mean, we can't leave the kids alone for a little while to make a trip to the bathroom, can we? No, I assume we can't. The old Brian might have done it... Then again, he would have left Justin watching the kids while fucking one of the waiters. It's funny, but that is no longer appealing to me. Why would I want to stick my dick anywhere but where it rightfully belongs? Yup, I guess I turned into the biggest fucking wannabe-breeder in existence. Sue me.

Justin, apparently sensing my ... well ... my little problem – though there really is nothing little about it – Justin reaches for my left hand... Hang on. When did I let go of his? Shit! I really need to keep track of these things if I want to stay ahead of him. And I have to. The moment he takes over, I truly am doomed. The way things are now... I can at least still pretend that I'm pulling the strings... Anyway, Justin reaches for my hand and whispers under his breath, "Later..." And that's a fucking promise I'll hold him to. Now I only have to will my hard-on away... 'Think of Mel and Linz and what they are up to...' Well, that worked like a charm ... only ... I might never get it up again. Right. Who am I kidding? Justin always got a reaction out of me, even when I wanted him to fuck off once and for all. Truth be told, I don't think I really wanted him gone. I was just scared shitless because he made me hope – for something I was sure I didn't deserve.

And look where I am now. It's Saturday – not one p.m. yet – and I'm sitting in a restaurant in Breederville with my husband and our kids. And I don't hate it. I'm actually enjoying myself, and that's mostly because of this beautiful young man who sits opposite of me. This brave ex-twink who defied everyone to be with me, who chose me over his family when that dickhead father of his... "So you're now flaunting your depraved lifestyle in front of law-abiding, decent citizens in broad daylight?" Fuck! Note to self: never think of Craig Taylor. "And it's like Mrs Kinney said – you're dragging innocent children down with you." One of said children is eyeing this new man who showed up at our table suspiciously, and then demands to be hugged by his Daddy Jussie. Gus is fucking smart. He saw how Justin's face fell, and is now trying to cheer him up again. And it's working. Craig looks like he bit into something sour ... but Justin... He's smiling one of his special smiles at my son, clearly unwilling to deal with his father.

So it's up to me... I see two paths opening up in front of me. I can either tell him exactly what I think of him, or I can flip him off. For a moment, I'm tempted to take the first option. But it only takes one look at the three people who mean everything to me to make me reconsider. "You know, Craig, this is a family brunch. So why don't you go and annoy someone else? Cause you really have no right to be here. Oh, and next time you see Joanie, tell her that her gay son sends his love. And now excuse us. I have to take my husband home to screw his brains out." Justin snickers, and Craig is this close to popping a vessel. But then the waiter arrives with Justin's desert, and Craig turns on his heels and walks back to the young bimbo who's apparently this week's replacement for Jen. Like there can be a replacement for Jennifer...

A spoon appears in front of me, and I'm being force-fed. Shit. That stuff's really good. Which is why I stay clear of it most of the time... Justin smirks, and then he and Gus dig in. Five minutes later, the tiramisù is history, and my son's getting sleepy. That's my cue to get the cheque, and herd my little family back to the Abomination. I'm even forced to drive the thing cause Justin is busy stroking his pot-belly. "I swear, if you grow fat on me, I'm getting a divorce." The little shit just smiles. He's lucky I'm driving, or else... Suddenly his left hand is on my leg, and it's not meant to arouse but ... probably some very dykish shit I don't want to think about. It's really pathetic, no matter how you look at it. The King of Babylon and the God-Stud of Liberty Avenue either turned into dykes, or – and this is even worse – breeders. But if we're really, really lucky, we're just a couple of Stepford fags, like Mikey once put it. Mikey. My best fucking friend Mikey, whom I always mocked because of his fairytale ideas of true love and romance and the rest of that shit.

And just look at me now... Yeah, I'm brooding. So what? I can at least pretend to be the man I was before, cause if I ever show those lunatics we call family how happy I really am... I really don't want to be committed. So I just growl and bark – but I won't bite anymore. That's me now – I'm Pittsburgh's first dickless fag. Thank fuck we just got home, cause taking care of the kids – and later of Justin – will shut my brain up, that's for sure...