Risks, Chapter 4
By Xie

“Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk everything, you risk even more.” -Erica Jong

Justin’s POV

I woke up to the sound of the alarm, and heard Brian groan from somewhere on top of me. I was lying on my stomach, my head partially under the pillow, and the rest of me mostly under Brian.

He rolled off me, and then hit the alarm. I burrowed a little deeper under the pillow, and he swatted my ass through the cover. “Nice try. Get up.”

I shook my head, even though he probably couldn’t see it. He laughed. “Up.”

I grabbed at the duvet he was pulling off me, but I was too late. I rolled over, groaning. “Jesus, Brian, I’m a mess.”

He looked at me, his tongue shoved in his cheek, and then nodded. “It’s kind of sexy, in a raunchy, debauched way.”

I laughed, and rubbed my eyes while I stretched. “You’re supposed to tenderly clean me off with a warm towel, not pass out on my back.”

He leaned down and gave my hair a tug. “I tenderly passed out on your back. Now get up.”

I heard him turning on the shower, and I stretched again, then got up and followed him in there.

We got to Ben and Michael’s a little late, but they hadn’t started eating yet. It wasn’t really warm out, but it was sunny and cool, a beautiful October day, and I went out to the back deck with my coffee. Mel was sitting at the picnic table, watching Hunter push JR in the swing.

I sat down across from Mel. “Where are Lindsay and Gus?”

She shrugged. “Gus had some kind of microscopic baby football thing this morning.”

“Huh?”

Melanie groaned and put her head down on the table. “Tiny-Mite football. For six-year-olds.”

I sipped my coffee. “Wow. Tiny-Mite. I think they had that when I was little, but I must have repressed it.”

She nodded glumly. “Anyway, Lindsay took him. He seems to have some kind of natural athletic ability.”

“Yeah, Brian’s good at most sports.”

“Now you tell me.”

We sat there drinking coffee until Emmett stuck his head out the back door. “Brunch is served, if you want more than just caffeine.”

Brian was already sitting at the table with Ted and Blake, and I sat across from him. Ben smiled and put a plate in front of Brian, and one that looked just like it in front of himself when he sat down. “Egg white omelets. Low carb toast.”

Michael set a plate of waffles, scrambled eggs, and sausage in front of me. “And for us, real food.”

Emmett laughed and took a plate out of his hands. “Gimme some of that.”

Ted grinned at Michael. “Real food over here, too.”

Ben smiled. “So, Brian, are you going to join us campaigning for Casey this afternoon?”

Brian snorted. “Yeah, Professor, that’s just what’s going to happen. I’m going out door to door for a candidate whose slogan is, ‘A Democrat who’s almost, but not quite, as far right as Santorum’.”

“Santorum is one of the worst enemies our community has ever had. Casey’s not perfect, but he’s not Santorum.” Ben was frowning.

“Great, that’s his other slogan: ‘Vote for me, I’m not Santorum.’ Christ, the Democrats are such pussies.”

I interrupted. “Brian’s already given the legal limit to Casey.”

Brian stirred sugar into his coffee. “We also serve who only write large checks.”

Emmett had gone into the kitchen for more coffee, and was standing there, a speculative look on his face. “So, Teddy, are you still a proud registered Republican?”

Every eye in the room turned to Ted, who shrugged. “I’m not ashamed of being a fiscal conservative.”

“But?” Emmett looked amused but also determined.

“But, I’ve changed my registration to “no affiliation.”

This time Blake interrupted. “He changed it three years ago.”

Emmett’s eyes softened. “Oh, Teddy. And you let me think you were a Republican all these years.”

Hunter shook his head while he shoved in a forkful of pancakes. “Dude, a gay Republican, that’s twisted.”

Melanie smiled at Michael as he refilled her coffee cup. JR was sleeping on her lap. “You told me you were giving up on the Republican Party when we were going door to door against Prop 14, Ted.”

“The Republican Party gave up on me.”

Melanie snorted her coffee. “Oh please, that bunch of right wing nut jobs never wanted you. You’re just a fucking faggot to them, and not all the Log Cabin Republicans in the country can change that.”

Brian bumped my leg with his foot under the table, then stood up. “And on that happy note, I think I’ll leave all you happy little campaign workers to your appointed rounds. I have an empire to run, and a plane to catch in the morning.”

Michael laughed and walked Brian to the door. I started helping Emmett clear the table.

I took Ben’s plate, and saw his hand go to his back while he stood up. “Let me help with that.”

I frowned. “I’ve got it, what’s wrong with your back?”

He shook his head. “I must have twisted something at the gym the other day.”

Michael came up behind him. “He pushes too much. But then he takes his shirt off and I can’t find it in my heart to tell him to stop.”

Ben smiled and kissed Michael’s cheek. “I promise not to stop as long as you keep looking.”

Brian’s POV

I unfastened my seat belt before the plane came to a full stop, ignoring the reproving look from the flight attendant.

When I got to the house around midnight, a light glaze of frost was covering everything, and I left footprints in the ice crust on the front steps.

I came into the house and turned off the hall light and started to go upstairs, and noticed the light was on in Justin’s studio. I went in and saw him sleeping on the sofa, and knelt down and shook his shoulder. “Hey.”

He opened his eyes and blinked twice before his eyes focused, then sat up, shoving his hand through his hair. “Hey. You’re back.” He blinked again.

I stood up, slung my bag over my shoulder, and pulled him up. He followed me upstairs, and by the time I got out of the bathroom, he was curled up in bed, the duvet thrown back on my side, his bare leg lying outside the cover.

I got into bed, and he rolled into me, and I kissed him, feeling his arms wind around my neck, listening to the soft moan humming in his throat when I shifted him onto his back.  He was spread out under me, naked and open, just like he always was for me, and I pushed inside him while his legs wrapped around my waist.

His hands were on the back of my neck, and his eyes were locked on mine, and his pupils were dark. He was rocking his ass up onto me, using his muscles to stroke me inside him. I dropped my head, resting my forehead on his, trying not to come yet, even though I knew he wanted me to.

He moved one of his hands to his cock, and I shifted my weight a little and slid my hand between us, too. Mine was covered in lube, and he let it grasp him, but kept his own hand over mine. He gripped me with his ass muscles again and I moaned and kissed him.

“Justin…” He moved my hand faster. I stopped trying to hold it back and made three rapid thrusts into him, and then froze while I came. He held his hand still while I grunted and pulsed into him. When I was done I stayed kneeling between his legs, and he took his hand away. I looked into his eyes and fisted his cock until he came, staring at his face, watching him flush and his eyes get even darker.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been asleep when I felt him jerk in my arms. I opened my eyes and held his shoulders with my hands. “Justin.”

He jerked a little again, and I repeated his name and held onto his shoulders more firmly, and this time he woke up. He licked his lips and shook his head. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay, what was it?”

I felt him shrug a little while I pulled his back against my chest. “The old one.”

“Mmmmm.”

He sighed. “Do you think these will ever stop?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know. But they’ll probably go back to how they were before.”

Justin didn’t answer, and I thought maybe he’d fallen back to sleep, but when I looked down at his face, his eyes were open.

He smiled a little. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Not saying you told me so. About talking to Daphne and stirring all this shit up again.”

“Yeah, well, if it wasn’t still in there, it couldn’t get stirred up.”

Justin laughed shakily. “That’s true, I guess.” He turned around inside my arms and I let him settle into me, his head on my shoulder. I felt my eyes drifting closed again, but I forced them open and bounced against him a little.

“Hey. Don’t go back to sleep yet. You’ll just start the dream over.”

He sighed and stirred, and opened his eyes. “I know.”

“Tell me about your paintings.”

He moved his head off my shoulder and rested it on my chest. His hair felt warm and soft under my hand, and I let my eyes close while he talked.

“I’m really happy with them.” His voice sounded sleepy. “I just… keep painting. I don’t even know where it’s coming from most of the time.”

 “Justin?”

“Mmmm?”

“Think about painting now… just imagine you’re painting something and fall asleep.”

I felt his lips smile against my skin. “Okay.”

I let myself fall back to sleep.

The next morning, I was downstairs waiting for the ready light on the coffee maker, when Justin came into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing up?”

He shrugged. “My sleep times got all fucked up when you were gone.”

I looked at him for a minute. He had dark circles under his eyes. “You should go back to bed, Justin.”

He nodded. “I will. I just want some coffee.”

“Addict.”

“Pusher.”

He leaned into me, and I slung my arm over his shoulder. He was looking down, his cheek against my chest.

 “Jesus, Brian, you have bare feet.”

I glanced down. “Jesus, Justin, you have extremely dirty white socks on.”

“There’s frost on the ground outside. Aren’t you cold?”

“We have central heat. The frost is outside.”

He nodded. I left him sucking down coffee at the kitchen table, his feet tucked under him on the chair, and went to Kinnetik.

I was on a conference call late that afternoon, when Ted came in the room. He made a slicing motion across his throat with his finger, and I raised an eyebrow, and then hit the mute button on the phone.

“What?”

“Michael tried to get you on your cell, he’s at the hospital with Ben, they found something on his ultrasound. He sounded really freaked out.”

I was punching in the number for Michael’s cell phone before he finished talking. “Get Cynthia to take over, or… do you want to come with me?”

He shook his head. “Go. One of you call me when you know what’s up.” He sat down at my desk and I grabbed my coat and left. I’d just gotten Michael’s voice mail, they probably made him turn off his phone at the hospital.

I was halfway there when my phone rang. It was Michael.

“So, what’s going on?”

“I got your message, you don’t have to come…”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up. What happened?”

“They were just doing a routine ultrasound to start him on the TIND protocol, and they saw something weird on his pancreas, some kind of cyst.”

I heard a voice in the background, and then Michael came back. “A pseudocyst.”

“Is that Deb?”

“Yeah.” Good. She was there.

“Where’s Ben?”

“They’re admitting him, they say they have to do more tests and then, if everything else is okay, they have to do surgery on his pancreas.”

Michael sounded like he was losing it, and I mentally cursed the assholes in front of me and every red light between Kinnetik and the hospital. All of which did a shitload of good. Then I heard scuffling noises, and then Deb.

“Brian? Michael went out into the hall, the doctor wanted to talk to him. And they’re putting Ben in a room now.”

When I got to the hospital, the three of them were in a room, and Ben looked fine. Michael seemed a lot calmer, too, and Debbie was cracking her gum and beaming at them from a bedside chair.

Michael jumped up when I got there, and Ben smiled at me, and made an almost imperceptible motion with his head towards Michael.

Ben started a conversation with Deb just as Michael got to my side, and I pulled him out into the hall.

“What did the doctor say?”

Michael shrugged. “He said we wouldn’t know more until some of the tests were back, they’re concerned about his kidneys. Hopefully they can do the surgery the day after tomorrow, they want him on antibiotics for a couple of days first.”

I nodded. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

Michael looked at me for a minute. “You don’t think so?”

“I don’t think so.” I said it firmly. “What does Ben think?”

“He says he feels fine.”

“See?”

He went back in the room, and I called Justin, but just got his voice mail. A passing staffer glared at me for using my cell phone, and I turned it off and followed Michael into the room.

After around half an hour, I was starting to think if Michael stroked Ben’s hair or hand one more time I was going to murder them both. Debbie gave a particularly loud snap of her gum.

“So, Brian, Carl dropped me off, any chance I could get you to take me home?”

I knew a hint when I heard one, so we said goodnight and walked out to the Corvette.

“So.” Her tone was conversational. “This sucks dick.”

“That about sums it up.”

She huffed in annoyance. “Can’t this poor guy ever get a break? I mean, he’s just about to start this new drug therapy. And now, this.”

She slid into the Corvette passenger seat, and I shut her door and went around and got in on my side. She was fastening her seat belt.

“Good fucking thing I stuck with my diet, or I’d have never gotten in here. Or out.”

I smirked, then pulled out of the lot and headed for Deb’s place.

“Did you get Sunshine?”

“I left Justin a message. He hasn’t called back yet.” I’d checked my cell as soon as we got out of the hospital.

Debbie looked out the window as we drove, and after a few minutes, rain started falling. I turned on the windshield wipers.

“This weird ass weather, first the frost, and now all this rain.”

“Well, you know what they say. Into each life some rain must fall.” I turned down her street.

Debbie gave me a sharp look. “Uh huh. I always know we’re in trouble when you start spouting clichés. What do you think, really?”

I didn’t answer right away. “I think we have to wait and see what the test results show.”

“Do you know anything about this?”

I wished I didn’t. “Yeah, sometimes the pancreatic problems cause kidney failure.” Respiratory failure, too, but I decided to leave that part out.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

I nodded as I pulled up in front of her house. “That about covers it.”

I got out and opened her door, holding my hand to help her out. She stood on the curb next to me, and I let her look into my face for a long time. She smacked my cheek and then went up on her toes and gave me a kiss right where she’d smacked me.

“Thanks for the ride. And for being there for Michael.”

I shrugged while she rubbed her lipstick off my face. “Old habit.”

When I got home, only the automated lights were on. I frowned and went into Justin’s studio, and he was sound asleep on the sofa, in the dark. I could see his cell phone in its charger on his desk, in the dim light from the hall. I switched on the lights in the work area, and stood looking at his paintings.

“Brian?”

I didn’t turn around. “These are good.”

“Thanks.” He yawned. “Did you eat?”

I didn’t answer, and he came up behind me. I shook my head. “I called, but it went to voice mail.”

“I wanted to concentrate. Is something wrong?”

“Ben’s in the hospital.”

“Fuck.” He went and sat down on the sofa again. “What happened?”

I shoved my hand through my hair, and walked over and sat down next to him. “He has to have surgery on his pancreas. Assuming his kidneys are functioning.”

Justin sat there, chewing his lip. “How’s Michael?”

I shrugged. “He’s fine.”

“Fuck.”

I looked at him. “What?”

Justin got up and went to his desk, and picked up his phone. “He called, too.” He kept hitting the button. “He called three times. I’m an asshole.”

“You were working.”

“I was asleep.”

That seemed weird to me, but I couldn’t think about it just then. I just sighed. “Let’s go to bed.”

Justin laughed, not happily. “I just woke up. And I need to work.”

I got up and walked to the door. “I’ll see you when you come up.”

I stripped off my clothes, and half-talked myself into doing something more productive than sleeping, like working out or getting in the hot tub or drinking half a bottle of scotch in front of the TV. But at the last minute, I just got into bed and fell into a black sleep.

Justin's POV
 
I went up to bed and crawled in with Brian at around 4. I made myself get up when the alarm went off, because I wanted to vote and then go to the hospital. But I felt like crap.

Brian and I were standing in line at the polling place near the house. It was the first time I’d voted out there. I was blowing on my hands to warm them up, and Brian reached out and held them. His hands were warm, and I felt a little shock at the heat of his skin against mine. I smiled into his eyes, and he smiled back. One of our neighbors was staring at us from over by the coffee table, but I just smiled at her and nodded. She turned bright red and looked away.

I mouthed, “Bitch,” and Brian laughed and kissed me.

“Fuck her.” He said it right into my mouth. “Go vote Santorum out on his right wing ass. That’ll show her.”

After we voted, we stopped at the hospital. Michael was already there, but official visiting hours didn’t start until 11, so we couldn’t see Ben. Brian got Michael on Ben’s room phone, and he came down and met us in the cafeteria.

I was eating a muffin and drinking more coffee when he came in. Brian saw him first and stood up and hugged him. I got up and hugged him, too. He looked tired.

I got him a cup of coffee, and he sat there, not drinking it.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Do we have to pull it out of you one word at a time, or are you going to just tell us?”

“They said his kidney values aren’t good enough for surgery, they want to try a few more days of antibiotics and fluids first.” He took a swallow of the coffee, then made a face. “I put too much sugar in this.”

I took the cup and went and dumped it, and filled it again. When I got back to the table, Michael was shredding a napkin and Brian was listening intently to him. I put Michael’s coffee in front of him, and he murmured, “Thanks.” But he didn’t drink it.

Brian put his hand on Michael’s, and he instantly stopped pulling the napkin to pieces. “So, they’re keeping him until they see how his kidney values respond to the treatment?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, because he could need dialysis.” He choked a little on the word. “And they said they have to watch his lungs, when the kidneys fail, sometimes the lungs do, too.”

Brian kept his grip on Michael’s hands. “He’s going to be fine, Michael.”

Michael looked at Brian, and then at me. “You don’t know that.”

“Sure he does.” I said it with total confidence.  “He’ll be fine. And so will you.”

Brian looked sharply at Michael. “Did you go home last night?”

He shook his head.

“You should get some rest.” Brian’s voice was as gentle as I’d ever heard it. “Let me stay with Ben, or Justin can, and you go home and sleep. Then come back this afternoon.”

Michael looked from me to Brian. “I have to vote, too. They’ll let Ben vote here, but I have to go to the polling place by the house.”

Brian nodded. “Good. Let’s go, Justin can stay with Ben until you get back.”

I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder and took the elevator up to Ben’s room. I hesitated, and knocked softly on the open door. Ben opened his eyes, and smiled at me.

“Hi, Justin. Did you see Michael?”

I walked over and kissed his cheek. “Yeah, Brian’s taking him to vote and get some sleep, and I had to promise to sit with you until he came back.”

Ben laughed, then held his side for a second. I bit my lip. “You don’t have to sit with me, Justin, I’m probably just going to sleep. They’re giving me morphine.”

“Yeah, well, Michael made me promise. So, you’re stuck with me. But go ahead and sleep. I thought I might have to hang out at Kinnetik, so I brought stuff to do.” I gestured at my bag, which I’d set on the floor next to the bed.

Ben looked at me for a minute. “How did Michael seem to you?”

“Tired. But okay.”

He nodded. “I’m glad Brian’s taking him home. He didn’t sleep much last night.”

I smiled. “He’s not getting the good drugs.”

Ben chuckled. “You’re welcome to my share.”

I shook my head. “I’ll stick to recreational drugs, thanks. Hospital grade opiates aren’t my idea of a high.”

He laughed. “Well, I offered.”

Ben fell asleep a few minutes later, and I got out my sketchpad. I drew him, because he was there and I felt like drawing. But I hadn’t slept much the night before, either, and after a while I felt my eyes starting to close. I set the pad and pencil down, tucked my feet under me, and went to sleep, my head pillowed on my balled up jacket.

I woke up from a confused dream, a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes, and it was Debbie.

“Hey, Sunshine.” She was whispering, or as close as Debbie ever got to whispering. I glanced at the bed, and Ben was still asleep.

I stretched, and yawned. “Michael went home to sleep, and I promised I’d sit with Ben until he got back.”

She nodded. “I know, Brian called me, he’s downstairs. He thought you might want to go get some lunch, I’ll stay for a while. Go.”

I put my sketchpad in my bag, left Debbie with Ben, and went down to the lobby. The Corvette was right outside the main doors, and I got in and slammed the door. “Hey.”

“Hey. Hungry?”

“Brian.”

“Sorry. My mistake.”

We went to the diner, and I made Brian order something. But he didn’t eat much except french fries he stole from my plate, drowned in ketchup. I wordlessly offered him some of my milkshake, and he shook his head. “I have to draw the line somewhere.”

I smiled. “It’s good to have principles, however idiotic.”

He tried to smirk, but it didn’t work. I sighed. “This sucks.”

He nodded. “Funny, Debbie said the same thing. And it didn’t even suck quite as bad as this at that point.”

His cell phone rang, and he glanced at it, then answered. “Theodore.”

He listened for a few minutes, and then sighed. “I’m at the diner with Justin, can you bring them over here? We’re going back to the hospital.”

The waitress brought our check just as he snapped his phone shut.

“Problem?”

“They need my signature on some paperwork.” He shrugged. “Ted’s bringing it over.”

We waited out on the sidewalk for Ted. It had gotten colder; it almost felt like it might snow. I shivered, and Brian opened his coat and wrapped it around me. I stood there with his arms around me, the warmth from his body trapped under the coat, my face on his chest, and thought about when he was sick, and how Michael must feel. I pressed my forehead into him.

He kissed my hair.

I was too tired that night to sit up and watch the election results, and despite his addiction to electronic toys, Brian had never wanted a television in the bedroom.

“You could bring up your laptop.” I was pulling my sweater off, and kicking my shoes onto the floor of the closet.

He shook his head. “No, let’s go to bed. Then we’ll wake up in the morning and we’ll know.”

I kissed him when he leaned over me, and when he slid his cock inside me and started to suck the skin of my neck into his mouth, I thought I’d explode from the feeling. He was fucking me slowly and tenderly, almost too slowly, and I asked him for more, for harder. He paused for a second, and then thrust deep inside me in one hard motion, then pulled out and did it again, with me arching up and throwing my head back.

He fucked me hard, and I choked his name and came, not even touching my cock. He fucked me through my orgasm and then kept going, until I almost wanted to beg him to stop because it was too much. Then I felt him coming, and all I wanted was to feel that forever, that rush of heat and wetness filling me inside.

I fell asleep with Brian still inside me, but when I woke up, he was shaking my arm and saying my name. I ground my teeth and hit the pillow with my fist. “FUCK.”

I knew he hated it when I got angry about the nightmares, but I was sick of waking up almost every night. And I needed to sleep.

I took a deep breath and let him pull my back against his chest. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He didn’t keep talking, and I thought he’d fallen back to sleep. He usually tried to keep me awake for a little while, so I didn’t just go back into the nightmare.

I sighed and rested my head on my arm and tried to sleep, but I was really just staring off into the darkness. After a few minutes I felt Brian’s lips on my neck, and I turned my face to him and kissed him. It was a deep, wet kiss, and I broke away after a minute. I put my hand on the side of his face.

“I’m okay, Brian, you don’t have to….”

He snorted and pulled my hand down to his cock. “Yeah, I do.”

I laughed. “My post-traumatic stress disorder turns you on?”

He pulled my hips back against him and buried his face in my hair. “No, I think it was your bare ass shoving up against my cock that turned me on.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s one of the symptoms of PTSD. Bare ass shoving.” I demonstrated.

This time, when I fell asleep, I didn’t wake up until morning.

Brian’s POV

Justin and I woke up to the news that the Democrats had taken the House, and had a shot at the Senate, and Santorum was out on his gay-hating ass.

Unfortunately, the day went downhill from there. Ben’s kidney values were worse, not better, and they were seriously discussing the possibility of dialysis. I was in the kitchen, drinking coffee and pinching the bridge of my nose while I talked to Michael on the phone, when Justin stumbled into the room.

“Michael? Hang on.” I glared at Justin. “You, back to bed.”

He shook his head. “I’m going to help Hunter at the comic store for a while.”

“Fuck that. You had three hours of sleep last night, if that.”

He ignored me, and I told Michael I’d call him back. My headache got worse.

I sat at the table while Justin made his disgusting herbal shit and drank coffee.

“Does your acupuncturist know you’re not sleeping?”

He nodded. “Yeah, she changed my herbs. But just a couple of days ago.”

I tapped the table with my finger.

“She also knows my partner is an obsessive, anal-retentive control freak.”

I smiled. “Does she have herbs for that, too?”

Justin laughed. “I’ll ask her.”

I stopped at the hospital on the way to Kinnetik. Michael came down, and we talked for a while. He was acting anxious, and I knew he wanted to go upstairs. I promised to come back at lunchtime, and went into the office.

My phone rang around 12. “Hey.”

“Hey. Do you want to get some food and then go to the hospital? Hunter’s okay here, and I said I’d come back around 4 so he could go visit Ben.”

I swung by the store and picked him up. I didn’t feel like eating, but Justin made me stop and get pizza slices.

When we got to the hospital, Michael was sitting in the lobby with Melanie and JR.

“They wouldn’t let her upstairs, so I was just visiting my little pumpkin down here.” Michael had that besotted look on his face he got when discussing his daughter. Which was better than the look of fear and exhaustion he’d had that morning.

Melanie smiled at me and hugged Justin. “Lindsay’s upstairs with Ben, and Debbie’s on her way. So now might be a good time to go up.”

Justin went upstairs, and after a minute, Melanie went with him.

“Any news?”

Michael smiled into JR’s eyes. “More of the same.”

I watched him make a fool of himself with the baby. “Ben must be happy about the election, though.”

Michael laughed. “He’s thrilled. So am I.”

The elevator doors opened, and Lindsay got out. I stood up and kissed her cheek, and she smiled. “They said only two of us at a time.”

Michael looked up, alarmed. “That’s new.”

Lindsay smiled reassuringly. “Probably just some power-mad administrator, Ben seemed fine. A little sleepy.”

Michael nodded. “It’s all the pain meds they’re giving him.”

Justin came down when Debbie got there. I drove him back to the store, and he was biting his lower lip.

“What?”

“He looks worse.”

I didn’t say anything for a while. “It could just be the meds and stress.”

He nodded. “Hunter’s going over now, and I’ll come home after I close up. I need to work for a while.”

I started to say something, and he cut me off. “AND I need to go to bed, I know. I will. I promise.” He leaned over and kissed me, and I watched him go into the store before I pulled away from the curb.

I went back to the hospital after work. Ben was asleep, and Michael had gone home to take a nap. Hunter and Debbie were sitting in the room, and Debbie came out to talk to me in the hall.

“They say if his kidneys aren’t improving by tomorrow, they’re going to start dialysis.”

“Fuck. Does Michael know?”

“Not yet. He’d gone home to sleep when the latest test results came in.”

“I’ll go by the house, and tell him.”

She shook her head. “Let him sleep, he’ll be back here the minute his eyes open.”

I knew she was right. I hugged her, stuck my head in the room to tell Hunter to hang in there, and then went home.

Justin was in his studio, the sleeves of his paint-spattered sweatshirt pushed up.

“Hey. I was just about to clean up.”

I doubted that, but I didn’t say anything, just went and looked at what he was working on while he washed his brushes and changed into a clean sweater.

We went out to the media room, and I poured myself a large glass of scotch. I held the bottle up and raised an eyebrow, and he nodded. “Just one.”

He sat next to me on the sofa and we watched television for a while, jumping from one news show to the next, watching the Republicans try to spin total defeat into some kind of victory. And failing. It was almost enough to cheer me up, especially after I’d finished off what was left in the bottle.

I walked over to the bar to get more, and Justin watched me from the sofa.

“He’ll be okay.”

I snorted. “Like Vic was okay?”

Justin walked up to me, ignoring my death glare, and put one hand on each side of my face. He looked right in my eyes. “No. Like I was okay, like you were okay. Like Michael was okay. He’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that.”

Justin was quiet for a minute. “No, I can’t. But I believe it.”

I broke away from him and shoved my hand through my hair. “I don’t fucking know what that means, Justin.”

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his voice was quiet. “I know you don’t.”

I felt a rush of anger, and I didn’t even try to shove it down. “Who knows what’s going to happen in a year, in ten years? Who the fuck knows what’s going to fucking happen tomorrow? You of all people should know that.”

Justin stared hard into my eyes. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, trying to think what to say. I looked away from him, and back.  My face felt stiff. I was too fucking drunk to have this conversation. Which unfortunately didn’t shut me up.

“Justin. I’ve given you everything I can. You want me to believe in happily ever after, too? Well, I can’t.”

I hated the look I saw on his face before he turned away from me. How someone who’d been thrown out by his own father when he was just a kid, nearly gotten killed by some asshole he’d jerked off once, and loved me for six years could still believe in fairy tales was a fucking mystery to me. But he did.

“Justin.” I had no idea I was going to say anything until I heard myself say his name.

He had his arms wrapped around himself, and he turned around and faced me. “Brian, I really, I can’t right now. I just can’t.” And he walked out of the room.

I stood in front of the window for a few minutes, staring after him. And then I followed him upstairs.

I must have stood at the window longer than I thought, because he was already in bed, the duvet pulled up over his shoulders, his back to me, and the lights out.

I got in and almost just lay down on the far edge of the bed, and then I thought, fuck it, and slid up against his back. I felt him sigh, and I put my head on his pillow, his head under my chin, my arm over him, and closed my eyes.

I woke up the next morning, and my mouth tasted like dirty socks and my head was pounding. I groaned, and raked my hand through my hair. Justin wasn’t there, although when I went into the bathroom, his towel was damp. I went downstairs, and he wasn’t in his studio. I looked in the garage, and his car was there.

I grabbed a jacket and went out the front door, and headed down to the bench by the swings. He sat there sometimes and sketched. He didn’t look up when I came down the path, just kept drawing. His hand was shaking a little, so I knew he’d been there a while. And it was cold. I sat down next to him.

I could only see the side of his face, and his lips looked tight. “Did you look for my car?”

I was embarrassed, but I just answered him. “Yeah.”

He kept sketching. “I’m not leaving.”

“I know.”

“Are you?”

I shoved my hand through my hair. “Fuck, Justin.”

He stopped sketching and just waited. I put my hands on his shoulders and turned him to face me. “No, I’m not leaving.”

He stared at me, then nodded, and went back to his drawing, and I snapped. “Justin, for fuck’s sake, look at your hand.”

He dropped the pencil.

I sighed and took his hand, but he pulled it away and shoved it in his pocket.

“I know you’re pissed. Or hurt.”

He started to say something, and I cut him off. “Justin, just let me… just let me, okay?”

He looked at me, and nodded.

“I’m not giving you some message. I’m just telling you the truth. I don’t know if I can have that kind of faith in the future. It’s not that I don’t have faith in you.”

His whole body was tense. He didn’t say anything.

I cleared my throat. “You told me once we need to want the same things. I thought we did want them. Don’t… don’t change the rules on me now.”

I got up, and stood staring down at the swings. I couldn’t look at him.

I heard him sigh, and I turned around. “Brian…. I just, I don’t know. I did say that, but it’s not a rule, it wasn’t a … a condition of our being together.”

I nodded, but I didn’t say anything. My brain felt blank. I really didn’t know what he meant.

He seemed to realize that, so he tried again. “I didn’t mean you have to want what I want for us to be together. I meant that the only way we’d have a future is if we did want the same things.” He sighed, sounding frustrated. “God, I hate this.”

I laughed. It sounded bitter. “That’s my line.”

“Everyone always tells me I sound like you.”

I tipped my head back. “God. I didn’t know.”

Justin got up and came over to me. “Brian, I know you. I know what you’re telling me. I don’t really care what you can and can’t say. Everything you do, everything you’ve done, says you do believe in a future for us.”

I felt a muscle twitch in my face. Justin kept talking. “You kept our wedding rings. You kept this house, and even after I went to New York, even when you told me you honestly thought you’d never see me again, you finished remodeling it. You built my studio.”

He put his hands on my shoulders from behind. “I’ll just have to keep believing what you do instead of what you can’t, or won’t, say. I guess it’s just a habit I can’t break.”

Part of me wanted to tell him to break it, not to believe that hard. I would never understand how Justin kept believing in things, but I didn’t have the energy to fight it. I turned around and let him stand inside my arms. I didn’t think. I didn’t mentally argue with him. I just stood there, my chin on his head, my eyes closed.

Justin’s POV

I honestly didn’t know what to say after we got back to the house, so I just shut up. I think Brian was surprised I didn’t go into my studio, but I went into the kitchen and made some eggs and a fresh pot of coffee. I ate my breakfast while Brian scrambled his egg whites, and we sat there drinking coffee and not talking.

Brian got up, put his empty cup in the sink, and turned to face me, leaning on the counter. “I’m going to the hospital.”

I looked at him, my eyebrows lifted.

“If you want to come.”

There were times when Brian reminded me of Hunter at his sullen, teenaged worst.

I nodded. “Let me change, I’m not going in sweats.”

When I came downstairs, Brian had pulled the Corvette out of the garage and was idling it in the driveway. I got in, and he pulled out while I was still fastening my seatbelt.

The news at the hospital was actually good. They’d changed Ben’s antibiotics and his kidney values had improved slightly. They were even talking about sending him home in a few days, and then trying to do the surgery in a month.

I started to tell Michael I’d cover the store for the next few days, when I caught Brian shaking his head at me. I shut up, and he dragged me into the hall.

“Justin, your paintings are due in two weeks. Less.”

“I can do both.”

“Yeah, good thing you don’t need to sleep.”

“What do you want me to do, Brian? Just let the store be closed?”

“Let Hunter do it.”

“Hunter has school.”

“You have work to do.”

We stood there glaring at each other, and then I decided to give in. Somewhat. “He has a midterm at the end of the week, I’ll cover for him just that day.”

Brian jerked his head and went back in the room, and I thought for a minute about the irony of Brian telling me to get more sleep and work less.

Then I went home to paint.

Brian’s POV

I stood in Justin’s studio. He’d come upstairs and told me he was done, and then got in the shower.

I was still standing there when he came hesitantly into the studio, his hair wet. “Well?” He actually sounded nervous.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever painted. There really wasn’t a better word. Not all Justin’s paintings were beautiful, even if they were all brilliant. But this one was. It was a great swirling mass of blue, with bits of black and silver in it, just a gigantic explosion of sky and night. And I’d have gladly given back every painting of Justin’s I had, the four pieces I wanted for Kinnetik, every drawing he’d done of me or Gus or the house, all of it, to have this.

“Justin.”

He smiled at me.

“I want this one. If you don’t want me to buy the others, too, I want this one more.”

He laughed a little. “Do you remember the night after I had a nightmare, and you told me to imagine I was painting?”

I thought for a second, then nodded.

“This is the painting I imagined while I fell asleep. And then the next day, I started painting it.”

I folded my lips in, and stared at him. Then I turned and stared at the painting. When I turned around, he’d gone to his computer. I walked over to him, and cleared my throat.

“Thanks.”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

Justin had a meeting with an agent Adrienne Bennett had recommended, in New York the day after Thanksgiving. We’d decided to drive down on Thanksgiving, and spend the weekend dancing and fucking and doing drugs, interspersed with shopping.

We left late morning on Thursday. About half an hour outside of Manhattan, Justin pulled off the road, tossed me the keys to the Land Rover, and crossed over to the passenger side of the car. Smart lad.

I unpacked while he tried to make a dent in the hotel’s hot water supply, and he finally emerged from the shower with one towel tucked haphazardly around his waist and another he was about to use on his soaking wet hair.

I walked over to him and took the towel out of his hands, and rubbed his hair. He leaned his weight into my hands, and closed his eyes. After a minute, I let the towel drop to the floor and started kissing him. His skin was cool and damp, and he tasted like water. I unhooked the towel from around his waist and tossed it on the bed, while he pushed harder against me and opened his mouth for my tongue.

I pushed him face down on the bed, and lay on top of him, my weight on my hands and knees, my mouth on his neck. I dragged my tongue down his spine, licking the water off his skin. He wriggled into the bed, making the little sounds he makes when he’s happy and turned on. I put just the slightest pressure on his thighs and he opened them for me, letting me nuzzle his cheeks apart with my face and hands, lifting up just enough so I could see his hole, pink and damp from the shower, his balls hanging heavy beyond it.

I stared at him for a minute, and he pushed back a little, looking for my tongue, and I trailed it down his crack and lightly over his hole, swirling it around the little smooth spot behind his balls. I licked his balls, tracing their surface with my tongue, then probing a little harder, feeling the contours of what was inside them while my finger pressed against his perineum.

Justin was barely breathing. I slid my tongue back and flicked it over his hole, then blew across it, and he shuddered and said my name softly, imploringly. I suddenly pressed my tongue flat against his opening and worked it into him, feeling the rough little ring of muscle clench and then open, letting me in.

I don’t know how long I licked him and kissed him, nibbling at the pale smooth skin of his inner thighs, playing with his balls, pressing on his prostate from the outside and rubbing it on the inside. I felt breathless and dizzy, and I never wanted to stop. My dick was hard and begging me to fuck him, and I ignored it, burying my face in the heat between his legs, and my tongue in the hot tight tunnel of his ass.

Justin moaned and reached around and grabbed at my hand, dragging it to his cock. It was hard and leaking. The towel was soaked, and I worked the pre-come all over the head and shaft, while Justin shuddered under me, and then started chanting, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck, Brian FUCK ME,” over and over.

So I did. He turned over while I lubed myself, and I slid my arms under his legs and lifted him up a little, my hand reaching around and under him to hold my cock at his opening. I pressed the head in, feeling him bearing down and opening up at the same time, letting it slide all the way in, slowly, until I was deep inside him.

I bent over him, still holding his legs on my arms, pressing my forehead against his shoulder, kissing and biting at the skin of his neck and throat, tasting his sweat and the salt of his skin. His ass felt hot and tight around my cock, squeezing it and releasing while I pulled back and then moved back in, against the tightness. He clamped down on me hard and I gave a startled moan, and pushed in deeper.

When I came, it lasted a long time, and I felt him come, too, his hand working his cock between us, his come flooding out hot onto my abdomen and chest.

I followed the pools of come on his skin with my tongue, licking them up, letting my tongue play with his nipples and in his navel. I cleaned his cock and his pubes, and then I slid my arms under him and lifted him up, licking my own come out of his ass and from between his thighs.

At first he was boneless and pliant, his arms thrown back over his head. But he started to thrust his asshole towards my mouth while I licked him, and when I touched his cock, it was getting hard again. I settled myself between his legs and mouthed his cock, tracing the vein that ran down it, then swirling my tongue over the head. I felt it get rigid against my lips, and Justin gasped when I pressed my tongue against the sensitive spot under the rim.

He came the second time with his hands grasping my hair and his back arched, his feet flat on the bed on either side of my shoulders, moaning my name.

Justin usually liked to talk after sex. Not this time. The minute he finished coming, he curled onto his side, burrowing against me, shaking. I wrapped him up in my arms and held him until he calmed down, and then watched him fall asleep. I pulled the blankets out from under him carefully, and covered him, and went into the other room.

Justin’s POV

I felt Brian’s lips brushing the nape of my neck, and I murmured and pushed back against him without opening my eyes.

“Dinner’s here. You have to get up.” But his voice sounded like that might be negotiable, so I just murmured again. Wrong.

“Justin?”

“Hmmmm?”

“You’re one second away from me pulling the blankets off and dumping you on the floor.”

I opened my eyes and shoved the blankets off with my legs, and then streteched against the sheets, smiling at him.

He looked at me. “I can’t fucking believe you’re hard again.”

“I’m young yet.”

He shook his head. “I rimmed you until you lost the power of speech, I made you come twice, the second time so hard you passed out for an hour, I ordered your Thanksgiving dinner, and then I sat out there amusing myself all alone waiting for it to come while you slept like a dead person in here. Get up and eat.”

I laughed and sat up. Brian went into the other room, and I pulled sweats and a sweatshirt and socks out of the drawer. Brian had unpacked all my stuff. I was just lucky he hadn’t gotten around to organizing it by color and fabric yet.

I followed him into the other room, lifted one of the silver covers off a plate, and laughed. “The traditional Thanksgiving steak and french fries?”

He grinned at me.

After dinner, I took another shower, and got dressed. I was staring out the window at the holiday lights edging the commercial buildings of the New York skyline when Brian came out of the shower. He stopped when he saw me.

“Where the fuck did you get that?”

I smiled. “Emmett and I went shopping.”

“That’s hot.”

“He said you’d say that.”

Brian walked up to me and ran his fingers down the front of my shirt, and then trailed them over the bare skin at my waistband. “Fuck.”

“He said you’d do that, too.”

I stood by the door waiting while Brian shrugged into his leather coat. He pulled something out of the pocket and showed it to me.

I laughed. “The traditional post-Thanksgiving dinner hit of ecstasy?”

Brian grinned and raised his eyebrow.

I shook my head. “Not tonight. I want to be able to get some sleep, to meet the agent tomorrow.”

He nodded, smiled, and took mine as well as his.

We got to the club, and walked down the stairs into a big, open space. It wasn’t as full as it probably was on a normal Thursday night, but it was crowded. I felt the music and the lights have their effect on me, even without Brian’s ecstasy. We danced for a while, and I felt him moving against me, his arms in the air. I put my hands on his shoulder and shook my hair out of my eyes, and danced with him. He smiled at me, his eyes black, and then let his arms slowly drop down until they were resting on my shoulders. He touched my forehead with his.

We danced a long time, and then we kissed, and he walked me backwards to the wall near the bar, and kissed me some more, his hands sliding up under my shirt, his fingers gently pulling on my nipples and tickling my belly. I could have stood there all night, letting Brian kiss me, but I decided to be a good boyfriend and keep him well hydrated. I pulled him over to the bar and bought him some water. He smiled at me kind of dreamily and tipped his head back when he drank it. I watched the muscles in his throat as he swallowed, then traced them with my tongue after he put the bottle down.

I nuzzled into him and guided him the few steps back to the wall, where a partition stood to keep people from seeing directly behind the bar. It was dark on the other side, and I let enough of my weight fall onto Brian that he leaned against the wall in the dim light.

I’d opened his shirt on the dance floor, and I traced his chest muscles and nipples with my tongue, and unfastened his jeans. He had his head back against the wall and his eyes closed, his hands lightly resting on my shoulders.

I let my face slide down his chest and belly, and felt his sweat on my cheek. My hands slid under the waist of his jeans and pushed them off his hips, and I freed his cock and sat back on my heels, looking up at him.

He smiled down at me, and I grinned back, then deliberately licked from his balls to the rim under the head of his cock, and back down again. I glanced up, and his eyes were closed again. He had one arm down at his side, palm flat against the wall, and the other barely resting on the back of my head, his fingers curved around my neck.

I sat up a little more and let his cock bounce against my chin and then pressed my throat along the length of it, leaning into him and bending my head back. He looked down at me, startled, and his lips parted and his eyes half-closed when he saw me. He started to breathe faster.

I settled my mouth around his cock and stroked him with my lips, and wet my finger in my mouth. When he felt me wetting my finger, he shifted a little, moving his legs further apart. I didn’t know if he even realized he was doing it.

I touched his hole, circling my finger softly while I sucked his cock, then pressing it inside at the same moment I let him slide into my throat. His hands grasped at my hair then, and I felt his back arch, his thighs straining.

He tried to spread his legs more, but his jeans weren’t all the way down, and I bent my finger and brushed his prostate. He groaned my name, and I kept swallowing him and playing with my finger in his ass, my knees pressing into the cement floor, my face buried in the soft hair at the base of his cock.

When he came it was sudden. One minute he was arching into my mouth and panting, and the next he was holding my head tight against his groin, not moving, while I swallowed the hot rush that hit the back of my throat.

When he was done, I stood up and kissed him. He was still breathing hard, and when he looked at me, I smiled and blinked, and kissed him again.

He cleared his throat and folded his lips in, and smiled, his eyes half-closed. “Was that the traditional post-Thanksgiving dinner public blow job?”

I laughed. We danced for a little while longer, but I dragged him back to the hotel before 2, so I could get some sleep before I met with the agent. He complained the entire time we were in the elevator, but he was sound asleep before I even got into bed.

Brian had an amazing ability not to suffer the effects of whatever he’d done the night before. Two cups of coffee with breakfast and he was ready to shop. I was still groaning at him to shut the fucking drapes when he cheerfully slammed the suite door on his way out.

When I got back to the hotel, he still wasn’t there, but there was a message from him on my cell phone, wanting to know how the meeting went. I called him, and he answered on the first ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey. It went really well, I liked her. A lot.” I’d met with three other agents, suggested by Lindsay or Adrienne, but this was the first one I’d felt really looked at my work the same way I did.

“Good. What’s next?”

“She said she’d send an agreement to my attorney and we could proceed from there.”

“Which means you need an attorney.”

“I thought I’d use the guy who reviewed my contract with Armand.”

“Okay. Where are you?”

“At the hotel.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

He walked in, and dropped his coat on a chair.

“Didn’t you buy anything?”

He stared at me. “Of course I bought things. I’m surprised, in fact, there’s anything left in Manhattan for anyone else to buy. I’m having it all shipped.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

We spent the weekend fucking and dancing, and I went to a gallery with Kalli while he shopped on Saturday afternoon. On Sunday afternoon, we retrieved the Land Rover from the custody of the hotel, and went home.

It was dark when Brian turned down our street. I was surprised to see Christmas lights on our house.

Brian ducked his head to see out my side of the car better. “It looks like the fairies were at work while we were gone.”

He turned into our driveway and hit the garage door opener. He left the door open, and we walked back outside to look at the house.

“I still can’t believe you had Emmett do this again, with Gus not staying with us this year.”

“Well, I wanted the neighbors to see how it’s done when faggots are in charge.” He glanced scornfully towards the house across the street. Last year, they’d had a gigantic inflatable Frosty the Snowman on their front lawn, and it had deflated slowly over the course of a week. Fortunately, you couldn’t see it from our house.

I stood there in the cold, Brian’s arm lightly resting on my shoulder, looking at the lights. And after a little while, we went inside, switched off the timer, and went to bed.

Continued here…