Together

Chapter 31

To Catch a Thief - Part 2

At the loft, Jason parked between the fire hydrant and the red light. As soon as they stepped inside, he toed off his shoes and walked stocking footed to the wall where The Kiss and Life is Beautiful II were hanging, and stared at them for a while.

“What will you drink?” asked Brian.

“Single malt scotch.” A glass of Laphroig in hand, he then spent a good amount of time looking at the wall of portraits.

“Where is your other one?” he asked. He knew Brian had three of Justin’s paintings in his home, and Brian realized there was one he had not seen previously. He pressed the electric command that opened all the panels of the bedroom platform, letting the Red painting appear in all its glory.

Jason nodded. “Where it belongs, obviously,” he said.

He came and sat down on the Italian sofa, across from the chair where Brian was already lounging. “Justin is amazingly gifted. In a lot of ways, he has opened a whole new dimension to abstract painting. The way he makes you feel what he feels when he paints, that sharing of his emotions. That is unique to him. I have watched him paint. I have analyzed his finished work. I don’t know how he does it. And somehow, it translates poorly on photographs, unless they are of extremely good quality, and then you only really get an echo of it.”

He savored his drink and chuckled. “At least I know he’ll never dump me to sell his work on the internet. He needs live expos… He’s also getting better and better. Brandon!” He shook his head. “I have never seen the like. Two dimensional paint and geometrical forms on a canvas, and you feel like you have the man right there breathing over your shoulder.” He put down his empty glass on the coffee table. “I suppose the more you know Mr. Bloomquist, the more you feel him in that painting. But even someone with as superficial an acquaintance to him as I have, can feel him in there. I have no idea how much people will pay for their own “Portrait”. He grinned and rubbed his hands. “I’m going to make out like a bandit with this boy…”

Brian laughed. “It’s good you have your priorities in order…”

Jason grinned. “I have three more kids to put through college, my friend, and very expensive tastes.” He looked around with a knowing smile. “As do you.”

“I only have one child to worry about, and I share the burden with two…” He smiled to himself, “No. Three other people. The beauty of being queer: Lots of disposable income.”

“Why didn’t you ask those Lithuanian guys for the address of the warehouse in Queens?”

Brian was not thrown by Jason’s leap in the conversation. He was getting used to the man. “I assumed our thief got in the van as soon as they dropped it off, and drove it to the current paintings' location. It’s somewhat significant that it’s in Queens, as opposed to say, Noho, because it must be closer to his final destination than Brooklyn, but other than that…”

“Yes. I thought the same. No way to track it either.”

Brian’s cell rang. “Mr. Kinney? This is private citizen Hamill. Your van is a rental. It is four days overdue. The renter is a businessman from Chicago, who reported his driver’s license stolen on Thursday, when he could not find his ID to get on his plane home. Also stolen was his emergency credit card, the one he never uses… He is in the electrical business, married, father of two, comfortably well off. His only prior was for soliciting sex from a police officer posing as a hustler, in Los Angeles. It seems this gentleman has an affinity for young men. By probing lightly, a detective from New York, whose name he will not recall, had him admit to a dalliance with a young man he met at his hotel bar, in New York for a conference apparently, by the name of Aidan. Blond, longish hair, 5’7 or 5’8, 150lbs, hazel eyes, nice smile, though in his opinion, he could not have taken his property, because ‘he was very sweet and they were really connected…’ though he can think of no other time when he and his wallet were apart in the presence of a third party…”

She sighed. “We are all fools for love,” she said. “I hope this helps you. That’s as far as I can go without opening a police file.”

“Thank you very much. What are you doing the 26th in the evening?”

“That’s a Friday? No plans yet…”

“I’m having a surprise party for Justin at a friend’s house. I’d love for you and an escort to join us. It will be a bit fancy, but for fun…”

“Ooooh! I do so like getting dolled up. I don’t get to do it enough in this job. And my beau looks very fine in a suit…”

“Excellent. I’ll send you the details via e-mail, OK?”

“Thanks. I love a good party…”

Aidan? Brian had never heard of an Aidan. But a blond, short with a nice smile sounded just like the description given by the Lithuanians. If only there had been a way to track that van. He should have gotten the address, they could have gone up there and asked around. Maybe someone noticed something.

He dialed Matas.

“Alo?”

“Matas, this is Brian Kinney. I forgot to ask you earlier. What was the address at which…” He realized that was a complicated sentence and simplified. “ Where did you leave the van?”

“Steinway and 20th Avenue. Not far from Long Island City. Not good neighborhood. My grandfather and I happy to get in subway.” He laughed. “We walk on crack little bottle next to building. Not good.”

“Thanks, Matas.”

Brian sighed. “Sounds like the warehouse was in Gangland. I don’t think two white guys in a Porsche are going to get anything more than a beating if we go up there.” He thought for a moment, and dialed his phone again.

“…”

“LaShaun, it’s Brian, triple espresso Brian?”

“Hold up.”

There was the sound of a door closing and a baby crying far in the background.

“I ain’t working the corner Saturdays, you know that.”

“I need to talk to you about something. To help Justin.”

“ Justin OK?”

“ No. He was robbed. I’ll tell you about it. Where can we meet?”

“The corner bar near your place, half hour.”

“You know where I live?”

“…”

“All right. See you there.” Brian hung up, glad he had a sophisticated security system. Not that he didn’t like LaShaun, but the fact that the drug runner had bothered to find out where he lived was…unsettling.

“OK, so who are we talking to now?” asked Jason, curious.

“A drug dealer that mans the Starbucks corner in the morning. Justin got him to enroll in adult education to learn to read. Now he's preparing for his High School Equivalency.” Brian smiled. “Justin has many friends. He sees the good in everyone, and somehow, people feel compelled to rise to the challenge and meet his expectations. Like me. Like you.” He added seriously, “Which makes this entire situation even harder to understand, really.” He got up and started pacing. “I hate feeling so fucking helpless. I’m reaching at straws now. Fuck. Did you ever hear him talk of an Aidan?”

“No. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because I haven’t figured out what he wants. I don’t know if he wants me to leave the whole thing alone or look into it. He might just want to wait for the ransom demand. He might just write the paintings off and move on. I don’t know if he wants to discuss it or not. I don’t know how best to help him. God, I wish he’d at least take the fucking money from me. That's the one thing I can do for him.” He rubbed his face with his hands, wishing he knew what to do. His phone rang.

“Kinney.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

Justin. Brian was amazed how happy he was to hear that voice. “Home. Working. You?”

“Pratt, working, thinking about how very much I love you.”

“… Sunshine. I…” God, he had so needed to hear him say that… “Thanks.”

“Brian, could I ask you a favor?”

There was nothing he could refuse this man, nothing that could be harder than five weeks apart from him. Whatever Justin wanted, he would make sure Justin got. “Anything Justin. You know that.”

“Would you…” Justin was taking a deep breath as if it was hard for him to ask. It scared Brian a little, but he’d meant it. Anything…

“Would you consider loaning me the one hundred thousand dollars at five percent interest over three years? To get my paintings back, if the thieves ever call? If you’d rather not have money issues between us, I’ll understand. There are a couple of other people I might be able to ask. I don’t want to put you on the spot either, you can think about it…”

“Oh, Sunshine. I never thought you’d…” Shut up, shut up, shut up. He started again. “I’ll be very happy loaning you the money. At 3 % for 5 years. But I am sure you will be able to repay me after the expo, no problem.” Trying for casual, when inside he was completely undone.

“Thank you, Brian. It’s not… It’s not going to change things between us, is it?”

Aside from the fact that I love you even more? “Absolutely not. I promise. You can set up an automatic payment. Neither of us has to ever think about it.”

“OK. I think my paint is dry. I…” Justin sighed. “It’s a weight off my mind. Now I can concentrate… Later.”

“I am glad you asked Justin. Now forget about it. Later.” Brian had been pacing. He just fell in his chair, feeling completely happy for a second. Justin had asked for help, for his help. With money. Justin was going to take the money from him. He knew Justin loved him and trusted him, but this was… different, somehow.

The acceptance that their partnership was more important to him than his pride. He had an idea of how hard it must have been for Justin to ask. And by asking he was making a declaration, accepting Brian’s love and support at a new level. It was ridiculous that it should mean so much to him, but despite what had happened today, Brian felt incredibly happy.

He realized Jason was looking at him with a little smile. Brian could not help but smile back.

“Shut up, I don’t need comments from the peanut gallery.”

“I haven’t said a word.” Jason smiled wider.

“You’re thinking too loud. Come on. Time to go meet LaShaun.”

They walked to the corner bar. It was a neighborhood establishment, where the same people met all the time. Brian only very occasionally made an appearance, but Sylvia, the barkeep, made it her business to know who was who and greeted him with a “Hi, Brian.”

LaShaun was sitting at a booth. Gone was the do-rag, the falling off pants, the $120.00 high tops and the enormous sweatshirt that hid who knows what. Bare headed, he was wearing a turquoise polo shirt, jeans that fit, and Stan Smith tennis shoes. He looked like an NYU student, and was drinking a Coke.

Brian sat across from him and raised his eyebrows questioningly. LaShaun gave him a teasing smile. “You're not wearing your work clothes either, are you?”

Well, there was no denying that. “LaShaun, this is Jason. He’s Justin’s agent, and a friend as well.”

They shook hands over the table, and LaShaun cracked up. “This is like one of them jokes, you know? A fag, a nigger and a kike walk into a bar…”

Jason burst out laughing. “I’ll have to look one up on the internet… Nice to meet you, LaShaun.”

“So what’s up, man?” LaShaun asked Brian. “Surely you did not perturb my dominical rest for nothing?”

“Working the vocab list, LaShaun?”

“Teacher says, you want to remember them, you got to use them… And you want to get anywhere you got to talk like a white man. So I read them lists, and I imitate Dan Rather. I’m going to college some day.”

“Sounds good. So here is the situation. Someone stole Justin’s paintings from Pratt. We tracked these two men, fresh immigrants who thought they were doing a legitimate job. They dropped off a white van in Queens, at 20th and Steinway, where the man who they thought was the owner of a gallery was waiting for them. They left. We assumed he drove the van away to a hideout. The van is a rental now four days overdue. They said it was a bad neighborhood, crack vials on the sidewalk. It was Tuesday, around 11:00 AM. I’m thinking someone may have noticed a white man wearing a suit standing at a corner in a neighborhood where crack is sold…”

“No doubt. Somebody had their eye on that dude the whole time… He’s lucky nothing happened. They probably didn’t know what to make of him. Do you like that? Didn’t know what to make of him? That’s from the last Spiderman comic. The sh…stuff you learn reading comics…” He smiled. “I shall inquire. I believe Queens is Chinese gangs territory. You understand it may take a little time. I have to go through my fellow runners. You do not want to be indebted to my boss for anything, believe me, not even information. Give me a few days. I will give you updates with your morning coffee.”

“I would prefer Justin remain unaware…”

“I shall be…circumspect. Is that right? Circumspect like careful, not obvious?”

“Yes. An excellent use of the word circumspect.”

“I want something in return for my help,” said LaShaun, not looking at him.

Brian had expected that. Any service required payment, in the real world. “Yes?” he asked, wondering how much it was going to cost him.

“I’m doing well with English, and math’s a breeze. Sciences, well, the book is good, you know? Plus a lot of it you’ve heard about before. But history is really hard though. I need help.” He finally made eye contact. “I need you to tutor me in American History. I figure you’re a college man. You know this shit backwards and forwards. I am completely clueless, and the book is not so helpful. It’s like it expects me to know some of that stuff already, 13 colonies, Boston Tea Party, stuff like that I guess you learn in grade school. I only went to grade school for the free breakfasts and the hot lunches, because we lived in a crack house… Didn’t learn anything. I started running drugs when I was 9. No more school after that…”

Well. That was different. He had aced American History, of course, but that was a while back. Still. He could do it. “Twice a week?” he asked.

“OK”

“Mondays and Thursdays, 6:30 right here.”

“All right.”

“After you give me what I want.”

“No problem. Well, it’s been fun, but I got some people to call. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” And LaShaun was out the door.

“Interesting character,” commented Jason. “Very resourceful and driven. He’ll be mayor someday…”

“I thought I had a crappy childhood…” said Brian.

“The fact that his was worse does not make yours any better.”

“It just put it in perspective, I guess. Well. Anyway. That was my shot in the dark at trying to track that van. Anything you can think of?”

“Sadly, no. I think at some point you should try to find out if Justin knows an Aidan, or somebody who fits that description who might have an issue with him. It might be something personal.”

“Let’s go back to the loft. I need the internet,” said Brian.

“You go home and check the internet. I have an appointment. I’ll drop by again afterwards and see if either of us has thought of something useful.”

“You don’t need to come back. You can just call.”

“I’ll drop by.”

“OK.”

Brian got back to the loft full of nervous energy. He changed into running clothes and ran hard for eight miles thinking of nothing but his stride, and then walked for two. Chinese gangs. That didn’t sound good, though did gangs ever sound good? He took a quick shower and got dressed again.

Brian brought his computer to the sitting area and wondered where to start. Who did he know might have a personal grudge against Justin or himself? He thought it was possible the attack on Justin was somehow directed at him.

Tuscan, of course, was his first suspect. He googled him. There sure was a lot of crap there. Brian had not bothered following his downfall. He felt he’d done his share, and after that, it was out of his hands. He refined the search by adding sons. Well the twins were out for sure now… There were several articles about them and a couple of interviews. Ah. A family photo. The youngest son was blond, and much shorter than his brothers, if just as stocky. He looked like a wrestler, not a football player.

Brian had Lindy’s number. He dialed it.

“Lindy Holmes.”

“Hello, Lindy. This is Brian Kinney.”

“Oh, hello, Brian. How are you?”

“Fine. I have a question for you. I don’t really want to go into why I need to know this, it’s too long a story, but I’d appreciate if you could tell me how your younger son feels about what’s been happening to his father.”

“He has moved in with me and has changed his name to Holmes, if that’s any indication. And for a long time he addressed his father with ‘Ah, father’. As in, ‘Ah, father, pass the salt’, ‘Ah, father, what time does the game start?’ We all thought it was just a weird mannerism. He just admitted to me that AH stood for Ass Hole all these years. Does that help?”

Brian chuckled, and she laughed with him.

“Yes, Lindy. Thank you. That’s all I needed to know. Next time we see each other, I’ll tell you why I needed to know. Bye.”

“Bye, Brian.”

Well. That was that with the Tuscan boys. Brian knew that Phil what’s his name, from Legal, had only one living relative, his mother. She had called to apologize for her son’s actions. Nice woman. He had pointed out to her that he had not been the injured party and that she had not been the injuring party, so that an apology to him from her was completely unnecessary. She had said she felt partially responsible for her son being so close minded, and did not want to speak to “Brian's young man” for fear of reawakening bad memories. He had thanked her for her apology and forgotten about the conversation in the next three minutes.

Who else was there? Could one of his many one-night stands have had enough feelings towards him to resent his boyfriend for having what they never could get out of him? He’d had a couple of semi stalkers through the years, but could hardly remember them. Had there been any blond? Who the fuck knew? This was pointless. He didn’t even know any of their names. If this was the connection, they were out of luck. His buzzer went off. It was Jason, returned.

“Beautiful security system,” commented Jason as he stepped off the elevator. “Very elegant, and no keys. I like it. It would never work at my house. Too many people knowing the codes… Anything new.”

“Not a thing. No one who stands out in my checkered past…”

“It would make much more sense to look into Justin’s past, and Justin is certainly in a much better position to do so,” Jason pointed out.

Brian’s palm pilot beeped reminding him of an appointment. Fuck. He’d completely forgotten. He was supposed to go over the menu for the party with Jessica, and had to be there in… way less time than was necessary to get there.

He dialed her number.

“Madame Jessica’s House of Carnal Pleasures, how may I direct your call?”

“Nice one. More upbeat than the funeral home anyway. I’m going to be late.”

“How late, Brian?”

“It depends on how much time I spend on the phone. So far, about ten minutes.”

“Click.”

She’d hung up. Brian laughed. He really loved that woman. Jason looked at him questioningly.

“Jason, I have to go. I have a meeting with your mother to finalize the menu. As it is, I’m going to be at least ten minutes late. Sorry.”

“I’ll drive you. You’ll be on time. Let’s go,” said Jason with a grin.

Once in the car, he slapped a flashing light on the roof and started a siren. They drove through every red light, and sped the rest of the way. He pulled into the parking garage under his mom’s building where he had a reserved spot, and put the flashing light away in the glove compartment, giggling like a manic child on too much sugar.

“I don’t do it too often, but wasn’t it fun?” he asked.

Brian was laughing. “Can’t you get arrested for that?”

“Oh, sure. But you know, there are so many sirens in this damn town, who’s going to check?” They walked to the elevator. They entered Jessica’s lobby with one minute to go.

“Madam is in the breakfast nook, Mr. Jason,” said the butler.

“Thank you, Brook.”

When they entered, Jessica looked up from some list she was checking. Brian noted she did not use glasses, which was just plain unfair. She looked at her watch, and smiled at Brian. “You are exactly on time.” Then in a motherly scolding voice, “Jason, did you use that fake siren again?”

Jason grinned at her. “Hello, Mother” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she pretended not to notice he had not answered her question.

“It’s almost Havdalah. I’ll see you later.” She watched him leave, a fond smile on her face.

“What’s Havdalah?” asked Brian.

“A short ceremony at the end of the Jewish Shabbat, which separates the holy from the profane. It is good for Jason to be with his family to lead the service.” She smiled. “Shabbat is a time of rest, of religious observance, of family. You are not supposed to conduct business, or drive, or…many other things. There is a disconnect between what Jason thinks Shabbat should be and what his hyperactive, driven, triple A type personality will allow. So his wife and children accept the fiction that Jason spends a lot of time after the Shabbat services in my company. You see, Jason lives on the fourteenth floor of this building.”

“The whole fourteenth floor?” asked Brian.

“Good heavens, no! Only a few of the apartments retain their original ridiculous dimensions. This is one of three, I believe, though I am the only one with the roof garden, obviously. The rest were subdivided a long time ago. Jason has a five-bedroom apartment. Large by New York standards, but still perfectly reasonable. But enough about my son. Let’s talk food and taste some yummies…”

“You do know I would trust your choices, don’t you?”

She grinned wickedly. “Of course you would, Brian. But then I would not have the satisfaction of knowing you will be running an extra twenty minutes for two weeks to expend the calories you will be taking in this afternoon…”

“You are a very evil woman. Now pass the canapés.” Jessica laughed her wonderful laugh.

They were trying the desserts (Strawberry tartlet, chocolate mousse, profiteroles, tarte tatin, fruit salad or pavlova?) when Brian’s phone rang. Justin was heading home. Brian voted for the tartlet, the mousse and the fruit salad (the tartlet was unbelievable), and told Jessica he had to get home. She agreed on his votes, told him he would have to trust her choice of dessert wine, and sent him out the door, laughing, shaking her head.

It did not take much food to decide if the taste was good or not. An eighth of a mini-quiche was enough as far as he was concerned. He had tried everything, and was quite sure he had not taken in more than a thousand calories. And that could be expended in a couple of wild fucks with Justin which, hey! he happened to have every day!

He laughed at himself in the cab, realizing how impatient he was to see Justin. It had been less than seven hours. He was getting used to this crazy addiction, and wondered how long it would take to wear off. At this point, it was still the other way around, getting worse all the time. Surely after a few more months it would dissipate as they got used to each other? He thought so, though of course he had only logic, but no actual basis for comparison.

When he got to the loft he knew Justin was home because of the alarm setting, and of his shoes and coat in the closet. He must be through with his shower, there was no water running. He himself had restored the bedroom panels to their normal closed position after his run. Justin must be getting dressed. He walked up the stairs and entered the one open area.

And thought: There is a God, and he loves me. Justin, fuck, he was so beautiful, Justin was leaning against the wall, completely naked, jerking off. His eyes were closed on some secret fantasy, and he was smelling Brian's moist shirt from his earlier run. He had lost weight, and his torso had gained definition, his abs especially. His luminous skin was gorgeous, his neck stretched back and his lips apart. His cock, God, Brian loved his cock so much, was wet with lube and precome, and he was holding it at a right angle to his body, as if he was fucking someone. Brian took off his clothes: He was getting into Justin’s ass as soon as he got a chance. He put a condom on his very hard erection, and lubed it well.

He wished he could see the images in Justin’s head… Suddenly Justin started talking, “Brian, you are so beautiful… I love you so much, don’t stop, here I come…” So, he had been imagining that Brian was fucking himself on that amazing cock of his. That was so fucking hot. Brian watched him come hard into his shirt, and gave him the time for a couple of breaths. Then he took the shirt out of his hand, and kissed him, pressing him against the wall.

He wanted to fuck him right there, right where he was standing. “You look so hot when you wank, Justin. Relax for me, love, let me in…” He loved the fact that as usual, Justin, who had just come, responded with unabashed enthusiasm and that, just like that, he was ready for him. Gliding into his tight channel was wonderful and once deep inside he stayed still, letting Justin adjust. Justin wrapped his legs and arms about him, like a koala on a branch, hanging on happily, and Brian had to move.

It was heaven. Their position dictated the pace. It was fast, and so deep, and fuck it was good. He was looking at Justin, watching the lust and the love in his eyes. Justin was such a sexual being, loving, loving this.

“You’re so tight and soft inside. I love it. I love you Justin…” Brian whispered, still somewhat disbelieving of his need to talk to Justin as they made love.

“I love you. I missed you. Oh, fuck, Brian, this is so good. Are you ok?”

And Brian was so glad to be loved, to have been missed and to give this man pleasure. Was he OK? Life did not get any better than this… “You weigh nothing, love. I could do this all night. But it’s too good for that. I’m going to come soon, come deep in your ass. Kiss me…” Give me your luscious lips and your soft tongue and shut me up before I tell you all the secrets of my heart.

Their kiss was perfection, their fucking was perfection, Justin’s ass in his hands was perfection, his smell, the sounds he made as Brian’s dick slid again and again into his ass… he couldn’t slow down, and didn’t want to. Instead, he let the pleasure carry him and with a long shiver and an involuntary cry came into his love, his dick immediately massaged to amazing post coital bliss by the contractions of Justin’s muscles as he too had an orgasm.

He managed to bring them to the bed to collapse in a heap. There was a happy, content look on Justin’s face, no trace of sadness at all, but somehow Brian did not entirely believe it. Justin’s loss this morning had been so grievous. He would let Justin deal with things his way, though. Justin had had plenty of experience with loss and betrayal. He would know how to handle it best, and Brian would just try to be there for him if Justin needed him.

They did go and play pool. First against some girls Justin had refused to take at face value, forcing them to show their true selves in the phony bar environment, and Brian had actually appreciated their self-assured, teasing persona and enjoyed the game against them.

After a couple of drinks, the game against the doctors was even more fun. Justin’s ass, in his new cargo paints, should have carried some kind of warning. It was a thing of beauty and Brian had a hard time keeping his hands off it. It didn’t help that Justin was like a house cat on catnip, unable to pass next to him without rubbing his obviously hard dick against some part of Brian’s body.

The doctors were amused, and not a little turned on as well, but they lost gracefully. Brian was glad to go to Essengy. That place would always be special to them. The first time he had seen Justin, he had been working on the Essengy logo with Chaz Anakian. The first time he had danced with Justin, had kissed him, had brought him to orgasm had been here at Essengy. If he was strictly honest, he had to admit this was where he had fallen in love with Justin. This was where they’d spent New Years Eve, and more importantly to him, reenacted that magical night after being apart from Justin for four and a half weeks and fearing he had lost their special connection forever.

The crazy twins made an appearance, but to his great surprise, one had a boyfriend. It was that short top he had met by fucking him in the ass, whether he liked it or not. Apparently, he had liked it. He must be 5’6” at most, but was absolutely gorgeous, his body beautifully proportioned, and with a fabulous smile.

Brian had six or seven inches on Justin and already felt like a giant. Rob probably had ten on Curtis, and easily sixty pounds. Still they looked good together, and they had all seen Rob loving taking it up the ass from his mini lover, so what did it matter?

Kissing Justin at Essengy was full of significance, and he could tell Justin was aroused enough that he might come just from his kiss. He adored the way Justin still surrendered to him, letting him take his mouth, his tongue as he melted against him completely. Earlier in the shower, Brian had used his mouth and his throat, fucking them, and Justin had loved it. He had this way of giving himself over that was the most arousing, the most tender thing in the world, but then he could tie up Brian, slap nipple clamps on him and spank his ass in the next breath. He was the most versatile, amazing lover Brian had ever had.

Right now, with the soft yielding Justin in his arms, Brian would have liked a chance at taking that offered body, at making it his, but this was Essengy, not Gillian’s. He didn’t want a quick fuck from behind, Justin leaning against the wall. Then Justin rose on his toes and said, “Take what you want, Brian. Whatever you want, It’s yours…” And why the hell not?

Brian found a free couch, covered the less than spotless cushion with his shirt for Justin, and forgot where he was, just concentrating on his man and on making love to him, and it felt so fucking right. They took their time, riding the waves of pleasure, knowing instinctively what the other needed. Finally, Brian could feel the change in Justin’s body even before Justin warned him of his impending orgasm. Justin looked taken by surprise, and Brian could see and feel the strength of his release and how long it lasted beyond the simple ejaculation. He was so glad, felt so gratified to have given Justin so much pleasure, and his possessive nature got the best of him, as he claimed Justin in every way while filling the condom inside his body.

They were reminded of why Gillian’s was a better place to make love than Essengy. Thank god there were terrycloth towels at least, but they both looked forward to a nice hot shower, which they got into as soon as they got home. Leaving the bathroom, Justin had been saying something about the weird dynamics of the doctors’ relationship, but just stopped in the middle, and Brian was amused to find he had fallen asleep mid sentence. It had been a rather long and emotional day.

Three hours later, he was awakened by a feeling of deep sadness, and realized it was not his, but Justin’s. Justin was crying, Brian could feel it though he gave no signs of it. Brian touched Justin's beautiful face and was not in the least surprised to find it bathed in tears. Justin turned in his arms, and sobbed against his chest. Brian held him, caressing his head and his back. If Justin wanted to talk, he would. Otherwise Brian would just be there, a loving solid presence. Brian knew he had only a faint idea of what Justin was feeling, and was not going to pretend otherwise, yet his Sunshine’s pain was a living creature in Brian’s breast.

He wanted to utterly destroy whoever had hurt him. There was a blond man sleeping somewhere who had no idea what was coming his way if he were found. When Justin’s tears were spent, Brian handed him a shirt to wipe his eyes and blow his nose, then held him close as he fell back asleep. He was himself halfway there when Justin said softly, “Thank you, Brian. I love you so, so much.”
 

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