Slowly, But Exceeding Fine; Chapter Eleven
Title: Slowly, But Exceeding Fine
Author: lemon_bar
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to 'A Thousand Beautiful Things'. Brian Kinney lives in the highest loft on Tremont Street. He has imported Italian fixtures, designer clothes and neon blue lights above his bed. He has also gone to bed every night for the past three weeks holding a teddy bear with movie-star glasses and a purple T-shirt, and can't help thinking the bear is just a placeholder.
Previous Posts: Chapter One; Chapter Two; Chapter Three; Chapter Four; Chapter Five; Chapter Six; Chapter Seven; Chapter Eight; Chapter Nine; Chapter Ten;
Chapter Eleven: Two Wrongs and One Right
Justin woke with a cold nose pressed to his temple and a quiet ‘ruff’ puffing warm air into his ear. “I’m awake,” he said, rubbing his eyes and trying to pull himself fully into wakefulness. Justin had very quickly gotten used to sleeping in, he’d quite enjoyed schedule-free days filled with whatever he felt like doing.
“Ruff!” Goose said.
“Okay, okay,” Justin said, yawning and stretching. Rolling over into Brian’s pillow for a moment before finally getting out of bed, as had become a habit. His job wasn’t high paying or high profile. He worked in a bookshop called ‘The Book Nook’ which sold both new and used books. It was old-fashioned in that the owner, Merrik Tidewater, stored his books in heavy oak bookshelves, and that there were so many books some of them were simply stacked in corners in piles as tall as Justin. There were plush chairs to read that Justin thought might be actual antiques.
Merrik himself was an old man with white wisps of hair and thick glasses that magnified his eyes so they looked as large as his frames. He spoke quietly, but laughed loud and rasping, and knew every book in his store. He’d taken a liking to Justin immediately and was fond of Goose, who had been accompanying Justin when he’d seen the little sign that declared the ‘Book Nook’ was looking for a new employee.
Justin pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped a hoodie over his head while he headed down the stairs. “There’s water in your bowl,” Justin was saying. “And food. I’ll come back at lunch and let you out, so don’t you dare think of marking-up Brian’s hardwood.” He poured coffee into his red travel mug, popped a Pop Tart into his mouth, picked-up his messenger bag and was out the door after setting the alarm and locking it. If he paused for even a moment, he’d start to get upset about leaving Goose all alone in the loft. As it was, he couldn’t leave without setting out the puppy’s toys and clicking on the radio.
“Justin!” Merrik greeted as Justin pushed open the door.
“Good morning,” Justin greeted.
“We have music today,” Merrik said.
“You fixed that old radio?” Justin asked curiously. Merrik was forever tinkering with an ancient radio. Justin had offered to bring in a new one, but Merrik refused to give-up on the one he had.
“Not yet, cursed thing that it is. But we have a street performer! Didn’t you hear him?”
“Not on my way in,” Justin said, setting his bag behind the cash register and checking the sheet to see if there were any shipments to prepare. They made contributions constantly to churches or children in need. Merrik left book selection to Justin, insisting he would know what the young people might want, but Justin was pretty sure Merrik would know more about some of the books than Justin did. Still, it always amused Justin (and Brian teased him constantly) that his reclusive reading in the library during his years at Liberty had actually prepared him admirably for his work.
“He must have gone to lunch,” Merrik said.
“It’s a bit early for lunch,” Justin said, smiling. Brian had met Merrik when he’d arrived at The Nook as a surprise to Justin. He’d taken to calling Merrik The Hobbit, because the man was small and oddly furry, and was quite fond of eating. Justin and Merrik got along quite well.
“It’s never too early for lunch,” Merrik muttered, heading into the back room where they stored things that they couldn’t possibly pack onto the floor. “Where is that mischievous dog of yours?”
“He’s at work,” Justin said. As had been his intention, Merrik laughed loudly, and emerged from the backroom carrying a stack of books.
“I wouldn’t mind, you know, if you brought him in. He seems quite well trained. I’m sure I could find a nice rug he could make a bed out of.”
“Are you sure?” Justin asked.
“We’ll try it out. Think of it as probation. If he behaves well, then the offer will stand,” Merrik said. “Now, if you find room for these on the floor, lunch is on me.”
Right about the time Justin found space for the third book, the music started. It was violin music, which Justin had never taken notice of before. His mother had given him a choice between piano lessons and sailing lessons, and Justin had gone with the sailing lessons. In high school his interests had been art and avoiding the general populous, so he’d never been to any of the school concerts.
He listened to it all morning, as he helped customers, organized the shelves filled-out a shipment of books destined for a woman’s church group. Merrik brought in warmed croissant sandwiches with the egg on it, which Justin loved, and then shooed Justin out to get Goose.
It was getting quite chilly, and he tucked his scarf around him and smiled when he felt the gloves stuffed in his pocket. If he ever pointed it out, he was sure Brian would stop doing it. So long as he pretended he didn’t notice, then Brian would continue. He was getting the hang of dealing with Brian’s quirks.
Goose was more than happy to leave the loft, and armed with two plastic bags just in case, Justin and Goose headed out to the Nook once again. The musician had moved to a place across the street from the Nook, and once he caught Justin’s eye, Justin couldn’t quite look away. He sat on a bench with Goose sitting by his feet, and they simply watched.
The passion was something Justin was familiar with. He felt the same way whenever he held a pencil or a paintbrush. Whenever he bowed his head over a piece of paper or a canvas and just created something. His brain wasn’t even entirely involved; it was something else, something not quite instinctual that guided his hand. This musician was the same. He played until it seemed the music he was created was in every breath, until the music became a physical thing pushing and pulling at the man’s body. It was hypnotic. It made Justin feel like they shared something, like they were equals, because clearly the man knew the same passion Justin did. As if they shared something he and Brian never could, because Brian couldn’t shut his head off the way this man did when he created ads, he relaxed and carried on with life and sometimes a slogan would come to him, but it wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t going so deep into yourself that you forgot where you ended and the world began. It wasn’t like this.
Goose’ restless movement recalled Justin from his thoughts, and he stood up, tugging on the leash and heading back into the Nook. That man was lucky. Music was his life; he lived and breathed for it. Art, for Justin, was just a hobby.
....................
Justin unclipped the leash and smiled as Goose charged to the corner of the loft where he’d left his rope-toy. Justin dropped his messenger bag by the door and kicked off his shoes before heading to the shower. He used Brian’s products, mostly because Justin didn’t know where to start buying his own.
Changed, and with his hair damp, Justin headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was adding vegetables into the stew he was preparing when Brian came into the loft. He didn’t say anything, but he crossed directly to the kitchen area and pressed his body to Justin’s back, his arms slipping around Justin’s waist and his lips pressed to the side of Justin’s neck.
Justin dropped the stirring spoon and closed his eyes. He loved when Brian touched him, he loved feeling wanted and desired. But then again, he’d never actually explained that he couldn’t go further. “Wait, wait,” Justin gasped. “Stop.”
“What?” Brian said, he kept his body still, and did exactly as he’d been requested.
“I just ... the stew might burn,” Justin said.
Brian was silent for a moment, knowing that wasn’t the reason, but willing to accept it if it was the only one Justin felt comfortable enough to give. “Okay.” He stepped away and headed to the shower.
“Brian,” Justin said, his voice quiet. “I just ...” He stirred the stew because he didn’t want to turn and face Brian, didn’t want to see disappointment on the other man’s face. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Okay,” Brian said. He headed up the stairs, dropping his things in the hamper, and almost missed Justin’s frustrated mutter of ‘but Christ, I want to be.’ It made Brian smirk.
..........................
They were in the Jeep, leaving Liberty Avenue after an early dinner with the Gang, and Brian was doing his best to ignore Justin, but he was fidgeting and there was no overlooking his clear agitation. “What the fuck is wrong?” Brian finally snapped.
“Nothing,” Justin said. “God!”
Brian might have laughed, but he wasn’t in the mood for it. He drove in silence, until the came to a red light and he glanced over and his blond passenger. “Well, if you pick the leather off my truck because of that great big ‘nothing’ that isn’t bothering you, than you can pay for it to be replaced.”
Justin looked at where his fingers were picking at Brian’s Jeep and pulled his hand away sheepishly, tucking them between his knees as if they needed the extra restraint to prevent more fidgeting. “It’s David,” he said. “He creeps me out.”
Brian snorted. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Nothing that I can point to and be like ‘Hey, he’s a creep.’ But he still creeps me out. And he keeps touching me, or bumping into me.” Justin bit his lip, then asked the question that had been bugging him since he’d met Brian’s friends. “Do he and Ben have an open relationship?”
“Fuck no,” Brian said.
“Well, then what’s their problem?”
“Isn’t that enough of a problem?” Brian muttered.
“I’m serious, Brian,” Justin said. “David’s acting like creep of the fucking year, Ben’s practically humping your leg when he isn’t making Bambi eyes at you, and I watch it and think, Christ, if I don’t put out where the fuck am I going to end-up?”
“What?” Brian asked, his tone flat but Justin knew it all too well. He’d never heard that tone directed at him, though.
“Nothing,” he said, recovering quickly. He turned his head to the window and stayed very still and very quiet. He thought he might win this one, because Brian hated talking, but then the Jeep swerved into a spot at the side of the road and came to a stop.
“What to repeat that?”
“No, it’s nothing. God, you’re such a drama queen!” Justin said. Brian didn’t rise to the bait, he just looked with that dangerous, intense expression, and Justin didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he was willing to promise he’d never do it again. “It’s just something David said,” he admitted. “That you trick around.” Brian sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t care,” Justin was quick to assure. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, we’re not even really together until I ... well, you know.”
“Jesus Christ, Justin,” Brian said.
“No, I know. You’ve given me so much, and if this is what you need ...”
“Don’t do the fucking martyr thing, it makes my dick soft.” Justin wanted to say ‘Good. Let it be soft, because then you’re not shoving it up other people’s asses when it should be up mine!’ but he didn’t, because Brian had really done more than anyone, more than he even deserved, and Justin was willing to accept Brian in any way he could have him. He’d swallow down the hurt, he’d ignore the shattered romantic notions he’d been holding onto and accept the reality, because reality, however bitter, was a better than nothing.
“David’s an asshole, you said so yourself,” Brian said.
“Actually,” Justin said. “I called him a creep.”
“And Ben can hump my leg all he wants, I’ve had him, that’s done.”
“So it’s true,” Justin said. Doing his best to keep his voice steady and have this discussion like the rational adult he was trying to be. “Anyone once, but only once.”
“I’m going to say this once, and then we’re not doing this again because it’s ancient fucking history,” Brian said. This wasn’t how he’d seen this conversation going. Not at all. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then decided to bite the bullet. “I’m not doing any romantic walks on a beach or whatever the fuck you’re imagining. That’s not who I am. But I’m not who David thinks I am, either.”
“So he lied?” Justin said.
“No,” Brian said.
“Well then, what the fuck, Brian?”
“It hasn’t been like that since Liberty,” Brian said.
“So, you’ve been celibate for seven months?”
“Give or take,” Brian said.
“What does that mean?”
“I tricked when I got out,” Brian said. Justin remembered Brian telling him that he’d gone back to his ‘old life’. “And after the first month in Liberty.”
“You fucked someone at Liberty?” Justin asked. “Who?”
“The janitor,” Brian said.
“Bill? He’s old! And ugly!” Justin said.
Brian cringed. “Not Bill,” he said.
“Oh, the new guy. Mr. Monday-Wednesday-Friday,” Justin said knowingly. “You’re a shit.” They were silent for a moment. “But since I moved in?” he was almost afraid to hear it.
“I’m not answering that, you’re head’s going to fill-up with hot air,” Brian said.
“I’ll be absolutely silent. I won’t say a word,” Justin was quick to promise.
“No one,” Brian said. He looked sharply at Justin, but Justin mimed zipping his mouth shut. Brian looked out the front window, then glanced back at Justin. Justin was almost vibrating in his seat. Brian laughed and shook his head. “Just say it, get it out of your system.”
Justin looked at Brian with large eyes and pressed his lips together, the words spilled out anyway. “You so care about me!” he said. “You love me soooo much!”
“Fucking little shit,” Brian said, which had become a term of endearment. Justin leaned over and kissed Brian hard. “You don’t have to ... put-out,” Brian said, pushing Justin back.
“Okay,” Justin said, he leaned back in and when Brian leaned away frowning darkly Justin rolled his eyes. “It’s just a kiss, Brian. It’s not a marriage proposal, it’s not a lifetime commitment, it’s not even sex.” They kissed again, and Justin sat back in his seat. “Can I put-out if I want to?” he joked. Brian rolled his eyes and ignored the question, steering the Jeep back into traffic. “David is still a creep, and I don’t like how Ben keeps flirting. Just for the record.” Brian snorted. “Hey, Brian, this is my stop!” he said, flapping his hands. Brian pulled the Jeep to the curb again, and Justin grabbed his gym bag and hopped out of the Jeep. “Later!” Justin said, shutting the door behind him.
“Later,” Brian said, smiling as he watched Justin’s confident stride into Street Smartz.
on to Chapter Twelve
Author: lemon_bar
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to 'A Thousand Beautiful Things'. Brian Kinney lives in the highest loft on Tremont Street. He has imported Italian fixtures, designer clothes and neon blue lights above his bed. He has also gone to bed every night for the past three weeks holding a teddy bear with movie-star glasses and a purple T-shirt, and can't help thinking the bear is just a placeholder.
Previous Posts: Chapter One; Chapter Two; Chapter Three; Chapter Four; Chapter Five; Chapter Six; Chapter Seven; Chapter Eight; Chapter Nine; Chapter Ten;
Chapter Eleven: Two Wrongs and One Right
Justin woke with a cold nose pressed to his temple and a quiet ‘ruff’ puffing warm air into his ear. “I’m awake,” he said, rubbing his eyes and trying to pull himself fully into wakefulness. Justin had very quickly gotten used to sleeping in, he’d quite enjoyed schedule-free days filled with whatever he felt like doing.
“Ruff!” Goose said.
“Okay, okay,” Justin said, yawning and stretching. Rolling over into Brian’s pillow for a moment before finally getting out of bed, as had become a habit. His job wasn’t high paying or high profile. He worked in a bookshop called ‘The Book Nook’ which sold both new and used books. It was old-fashioned in that the owner, Merrik Tidewater, stored his books in heavy oak bookshelves, and that there were so many books some of them were simply stacked in corners in piles as tall as Justin. There were plush chairs to read that Justin thought might be actual antiques.
Merrik himself was an old man with white wisps of hair and thick glasses that magnified his eyes so they looked as large as his frames. He spoke quietly, but laughed loud and rasping, and knew every book in his store. He’d taken a liking to Justin immediately and was fond of Goose, who had been accompanying Justin when he’d seen the little sign that declared the ‘Book Nook’ was looking for a new employee.
Justin pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped a hoodie over his head while he headed down the stairs. “There’s water in your bowl,” Justin was saying. “And food. I’ll come back at lunch and let you out, so don’t you dare think of marking-up Brian’s hardwood.” He poured coffee into his red travel mug, popped a Pop Tart into his mouth, picked-up his messenger bag and was out the door after setting the alarm and locking it. If he paused for even a moment, he’d start to get upset about leaving Goose all alone in the loft. As it was, he couldn’t leave without setting out the puppy’s toys and clicking on the radio.
“Justin!” Merrik greeted as Justin pushed open the door.
“Good morning,” Justin greeted.
“We have music today,” Merrik said.
“You fixed that old radio?” Justin asked curiously. Merrik was forever tinkering with an ancient radio. Justin had offered to bring in a new one, but Merrik refused to give-up on the one he had.
“Not yet, cursed thing that it is. But we have a street performer! Didn’t you hear him?”
“Not on my way in,” Justin said, setting his bag behind the cash register and checking the sheet to see if there were any shipments to prepare. They made contributions constantly to churches or children in need. Merrik left book selection to Justin, insisting he would know what the young people might want, but Justin was pretty sure Merrik would know more about some of the books than Justin did. Still, it always amused Justin (and Brian teased him constantly) that his reclusive reading in the library during his years at Liberty had actually prepared him admirably for his work.
“He must have gone to lunch,” Merrik said.
“It’s a bit early for lunch,” Justin said, smiling. Brian had met Merrik when he’d arrived at The Nook as a surprise to Justin. He’d taken to calling Merrik The Hobbit, because the man was small and oddly furry, and was quite fond of eating. Justin and Merrik got along quite well.
“It’s never too early for lunch,” Merrik muttered, heading into the back room where they stored things that they couldn’t possibly pack onto the floor. “Where is that mischievous dog of yours?”
“He’s at work,” Justin said. As had been his intention, Merrik laughed loudly, and emerged from the backroom carrying a stack of books.
“I wouldn’t mind, you know, if you brought him in. He seems quite well trained. I’m sure I could find a nice rug he could make a bed out of.”
“Are you sure?” Justin asked.
“We’ll try it out. Think of it as probation. If he behaves well, then the offer will stand,” Merrik said. “Now, if you find room for these on the floor, lunch is on me.”
Right about the time Justin found space for the third book, the music started. It was violin music, which Justin had never taken notice of before. His mother had given him a choice between piano lessons and sailing lessons, and Justin had gone with the sailing lessons. In high school his interests had been art and avoiding the general populous, so he’d never been to any of the school concerts.
He listened to it all morning, as he helped customers, organized the shelves filled-out a shipment of books destined for a woman’s church group. Merrik brought in warmed croissant sandwiches with the egg on it, which Justin loved, and then shooed Justin out to get Goose.
It was getting quite chilly, and he tucked his scarf around him and smiled when he felt the gloves stuffed in his pocket. If he ever pointed it out, he was sure Brian would stop doing it. So long as he pretended he didn’t notice, then Brian would continue. He was getting the hang of dealing with Brian’s quirks.
Goose was more than happy to leave the loft, and armed with two plastic bags just in case, Justin and Goose headed out to the Nook once again. The musician had moved to a place across the street from the Nook, and once he caught Justin’s eye, Justin couldn’t quite look away. He sat on a bench with Goose sitting by his feet, and they simply watched.
The passion was something Justin was familiar with. He felt the same way whenever he held a pencil or a paintbrush. Whenever he bowed his head over a piece of paper or a canvas and just created something. His brain wasn’t even entirely involved; it was something else, something not quite instinctual that guided his hand. This musician was the same. He played until it seemed the music he was created was in every breath, until the music became a physical thing pushing and pulling at the man’s body. It was hypnotic. It made Justin feel like they shared something, like they were equals, because clearly the man knew the same passion Justin did. As if they shared something he and Brian never could, because Brian couldn’t shut his head off the way this man did when he created ads, he relaxed and carried on with life and sometimes a slogan would come to him, but it wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t going so deep into yourself that you forgot where you ended and the world began. It wasn’t like this.
Goose’ restless movement recalled Justin from his thoughts, and he stood up, tugging on the leash and heading back into the Nook. That man was lucky. Music was his life; he lived and breathed for it. Art, for Justin, was just a hobby.
....................
Justin unclipped the leash and smiled as Goose charged to the corner of the loft where he’d left his rope-toy. Justin dropped his messenger bag by the door and kicked off his shoes before heading to the shower. He used Brian’s products, mostly because Justin didn’t know where to start buying his own.
Changed, and with his hair damp, Justin headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was adding vegetables into the stew he was preparing when Brian came into the loft. He didn’t say anything, but he crossed directly to the kitchen area and pressed his body to Justin’s back, his arms slipping around Justin’s waist and his lips pressed to the side of Justin’s neck.
Justin dropped the stirring spoon and closed his eyes. He loved when Brian touched him, he loved feeling wanted and desired. But then again, he’d never actually explained that he couldn’t go further. “Wait, wait,” Justin gasped. “Stop.”
“What?” Brian said, he kept his body still, and did exactly as he’d been requested.
“I just ... the stew might burn,” Justin said.
Brian was silent for a moment, knowing that wasn’t the reason, but willing to accept it if it was the only one Justin felt comfortable enough to give. “Okay.” He stepped away and headed to the shower.
“Brian,” Justin said, his voice quiet. “I just ...” He stirred the stew because he didn’t want to turn and face Brian, didn’t want to see disappointment on the other man’s face. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Okay,” Brian said. He headed up the stairs, dropping his things in the hamper, and almost missed Justin’s frustrated mutter of ‘but Christ, I want to be.’ It made Brian smirk.
..........................
They were in the Jeep, leaving Liberty Avenue after an early dinner with the Gang, and Brian was doing his best to ignore Justin, but he was fidgeting and there was no overlooking his clear agitation. “What the fuck is wrong?” Brian finally snapped.
“Nothing,” Justin said. “God!”
Brian might have laughed, but he wasn’t in the mood for it. He drove in silence, until the came to a red light and he glanced over and his blond passenger. “Well, if you pick the leather off my truck because of that great big ‘nothing’ that isn’t bothering you, than you can pay for it to be replaced.”
Justin looked at where his fingers were picking at Brian’s Jeep and pulled his hand away sheepishly, tucking them between his knees as if they needed the extra restraint to prevent more fidgeting. “It’s David,” he said. “He creeps me out.”
Brian snorted. “Did he say anything to you?”
“Nothing that I can point to and be like ‘Hey, he’s a creep.’ But he still creeps me out. And he keeps touching me, or bumping into me.” Justin bit his lip, then asked the question that had been bugging him since he’d met Brian’s friends. “Do he and Ben have an open relationship?”
“Fuck no,” Brian said.
“Well, then what’s their problem?”
“Isn’t that enough of a problem?” Brian muttered.
“I’m serious, Brian,” Justin said. “David’s acting like creep of the fucking year, Ben’s practically humping your leg when he isn’t making Bambi eyes at you, and I watch it and think, Christ, if I don’t put out where the fuck am I going to end-up?”
“What?” Brian asked, his tone flat but Justin knew it all too well. He’d never heard that tone directed at him, though.
“Nothing,” he said, recovering quickly. He turned his head to the window and stayed very still and very quiet. He thought he might win this one, because Brian hated talking, but then the Jeep swerved into a spot at the side of the road and came to a stop.
“What to repeat that?”
“No, it’s nothing. God, you’re such a drama queen!” Justin said. Brian didn’t rise to the bait, he just looked with that dangerous, intense expression, and Justin didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he was willing to promise he’d never do it again. “It’s just something David said,” he admitted. “That you trick around.” Brian sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t care,” Justin was quick to assure. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, we’re not even really together until I ... well, you know.”
“Jesus Christ, Justin,” Brian said.
“No, I know. You’ve given me so much, and if this is what you need ...”
“Don’t do the fucking martyr thing, it makes my dick soft.” Justin wanted to say ‘Good. Let it be soft, because then you’re not shoving it up other people’s asses when it should be up mine!’ but he didn’t, because Brian had really done more than anyone, more than he even deserved, and Justin was willing to accept Brian in any way he could have him. He’d swallow down the hurt, he’d ignore the shattered romantic notions he’d been holding onto and accept the reality, because reality, however bitter, was a better than nothing.
“David’s an asshole, you said so yourself,” Brian said.
“Actually,” Justin said. “I called him a creep.”
“And Ben can hump my leg all he wants, I’ve had him, that’s done.”
“So it’s true,” Justin said. Doing his best to keep his voice steady and have this discussion like the rational adult he was trying to be. “Anyone once, but only once.”
“I’m going to say this once, and then we’re not doing this again because it’s ancient fucking history,” Brian said. This wasn’t how he’d seen this conversation going. Not at all. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then decided to bite the bullet. “I’m not doing any romantic walks on a beach or whatever the fuck you’re imagining. That’s not who I am. But I’m not who David thinks I am, either.”
“So he lied?” Justin said.
“No,” Brian said.
“Well then, what the fuck, Brian?”
“It hasn’t been like that since Liberty,” Brian said.
“So, you’ve been celibate for seven months?”
“Give or take,” Brian said.
“What does that mean?”
“I tricked when I got out,” Brian said. Justin remembered Brian telling him that he’d gone back to his ‘old life’. “And after the first month in Liberty.”
“You fucked someone at Liberty?” Justin asked. “Who?”
“The janitor,” Brian said.
“Bill? He’s old! And ugly!” Justin said.
Brian cringed. “Not Bill,” he said.
“Oh, the new guy. Mr. Monday-Wednesday-Friday,” Justin said knowingly. “You’re a shit.” They were silent for a moment. “But since I moved in?” he was almost afraid to hear it.
“I’m not answering that, you’re head’s going to fill-up with hot air,” Brian said.
“I’ll be absolutely silent. I won’t say a word,” Justin was quick to promise.
“No one,” Brian said. He looked sharply at Justin, but Justin mimed zipping his mouth shut. Brian looked out the front window, then glanced back at Justin. Justin was almost vibrating in his seat. Brian laughed and shook his head. “Just say it, get it out of your system.”
Justin looked at Brian with large eyes and pressed his lips together, the words spilled out anyway. “You so care about me!” he said. “You love me soooo much!”
“Fucking little shit,” Brian said, which had become a term of endearment. Justin leaned over and kissed Brian hard. “You don’t have to ... put-out,” Brian said, pushing Justin back.
“Okay,” Justin said, he leaned back in and when Brian leaned away frowning darkly Justin rolled his eyes. “It’s just a kiss, Brian. It’s not a marriage proposal, it’s not a lifetime commitment, it’s not even sex.” They kissed again, and Justin sat back in his seat. “Can I put-out if I want to?” he joked. Brian rolled his eyes and ignored the question, steering the Jeep back into traffic. “David is still a creep, and I don’t like how Ben keeps flirting. Just for the record.” Brian snorted. “Hey, Brian, this is my stop!” he said, flapping his hands. Brian pulled the Jeep to the curb again, and Justin grabbed his gym bag and hopped out of the Jeep. “Later!” Justin said, shutting the door behind him.
“Later,” Brian said, smiling as he watched Justin’s confident stride into Street Smartz.
on to Chapter Twelve