"Queer Identities" -- Chapter 50 "Incredible"
I promised you all a great vacation for Brian and Justin --
and more surprises that you would love.
This chapter -- I think it will live up to its name.
Incredible!
This is Chapter 50 in the "Queer Identities" series.
The narrator is Brian Kinney, and features Justin Taylor, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Vacation visitors. Cardinal Lake, Ohio, August 2003.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. This is for fun, not profit. Enjoy.
By Gaedhal
I hate this fucking vacation.
Well, maybe not hate. Loathe. Detest. Revile.
Think pain in the ass. Think mosquitoes. Fucking trees dropping shit all over the place. Fucking birds waking you up in the morning. Fucking lake. Fucking cottage. Fucking cooking out.
Fucking drive-in and fucking flea market.
Fucking incredible!
"Brian? Hey -- are you awake? Look what just popped up to say good morning!"
I guess I don't hate everything about vacation. I like the fucking fucking. That really IS incredible.
Until...
"Who the fuck is here?" I poke my head up from the hammock.
"Um -- I was going to tell you, Brian! I swear! But then... I forgot."
My clothes are in the cottage. My ass is in the hammock. And between them -- Lindsay, Melanie, Emmett, and Ted. And the kids.
I grab Justin by his nipple ring and give it a twist. "Get my jeans. Like, yesterday."
"I'm getting."
And he goes. At top speed.
"Daddy! Daddy! Trees! Lake! Wanna swim!" Gus is so wired that he's practically exploding. "Daddy! Now!"
"We'll go swimming in a little while, Sonny Boy. Why don't you go and look at the house with Auntie Em and Uncle Theodore?"
"'Kay!" he cries and romps off towards the cottage.
"Brian." Lindz grins down at me. "I bet you're surprised to see us."
"'Surprised' is not the word I was thinking of." I'm still in the hammock, a towel covering my dick.
She leans over and kisses me lightly on the forehead. "I'm so glad Justin invited us. When Gus heard we were coming to see you, he was so excited he started jumping up and down. And Melanie couldn't say no to a few days up at a cottage by a beautiful lake. It seems so restful here. So relaxing."
"It was."
"You wanted to see the kids and spend time with them," she continues. "Justin thought this was the perfect solution."
"Well..."
"And..." she adds. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I've seen your penis before. More than once. I've done more than just see it."
"That was Midsummer Madness," I remind her.
Lindsay raises an eyebrow. "And it's midsummer!"
"No fucking way!"
"I was only joking." She looks around. "Here comes Justin."
He's running back at top speed. And he has my jeans. "Here, Brian. Hi, Lindsay. How were my directions?"
I jump out of the hammock and pull on my pants.
"Perfect. And it didn't take as long as I thought it would."
"That's great!" he says. "Melanie is unpacking a lot of food in there."
"We brought enough to feed an army," says Lindz. "I wasn't sure if there were stores around here, and with Ted and Emmett coming with us..."
"What's with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum along for the free ride?" I ask, buttoning up.
"Justin said it would be nice to invite them." She smiles sweetly. "He said there'd be plenty of room. And they can help watch the kids."
"Wait until you guys meet Missy and Lydia," says Justin. "They're artists. We're going over to their place for a cook-out tomorrow night."
"We are?" No one fucking tells me anything!
"I thought I mentioned it." He glances at me and shrugs. "You'll really like their place, Lindz. Their art is everywhere and it's amazing. And they have five Corgies."
"Oh, Gus will love that! He's started asking for a dog," Lindsay confides.
"Great. That's all you need," I comment. "With a three-year-old and a new baby, a fucking dog!"
"What's wrong with a dog?" asks Justin, slyly. He's been hinting about a dog forever.
"Besides the fact that you're fucking deathly allergic to them? They eat your clothes, they chew your furniture, they shit all over the place, and you have to walk them in the rain, snow, and sleet, that's what's wrong."
"He loves dogs. Really," Justin insists to Lindsay. "You should see him with Armani, Ron's old dog. Diane has him now. But he loves Brian. He's a Shih Tzu."
"Oh, I remember from when we visited last year. With the little red bow in his hair!" Lindsay gushes. "He was so cute!"
"Cute as a fucking wart on your ass," I say. "That Armani is a fucking menace!"
"He's kidding," says Justin.
"No, I'm not."
"I should go inside," Lindsay interjects. "I'm sure Mel needs help unpacking all those groceries."
I leave the dykes to the food, while I stomp off to the lake. I strip off the jeans I just put on and swim out to the raft. Justin is right behind me, splashing to keep up.
"Brian! Wait up!"
"I'm not speaking to you." I pull myself up onto the raft. The sun is beginning to go down below the trees, but it's still nice and hot on the lake.
"This is a great opportunity to spend time with Gus and Charity," he says. "Before you have to leave."
"Who says I'm leaving?"
He hangs onto the side of the raft and tries to pull himself up. "I know you're leaving, Brian. You have to go back for reshoots and dubbing. I heard you talking to Dorian on your cell."
I reach out my hand and drag him up. "Use the fucking ladder!" I tell him as he shakes off the water. "It's not like I'm going tomorrow."
"I know." He lies down next to me. "Gus misses you. And you miss him."
I don't answer.
"It's only for a few days. There's room in the cottage. Ted and Em can sleep on the porch. I told them to bring sleeping bags."
"So this was all planned?"
"Not really," he admits. "I only called them yesterday, but Mel was able to take some time off. If you have to be mad, then be mad at me. I invited them. Don't be a bitch about it to everyone else."
That stings. "I'm never a bitch to anyone! Who says I'm a fucking bitch?"
"No one."
That always burns my ass. People thinking I'm not a kind person. Not a sympathetic person. I may have my faults, but that's not one of them. I'm extremely empathetic! And fuck anyone who thinks otherwise!
We lie there quietly.
It is fucking beautiful at the lake.
"I'm sorry," he says, finally.
"Don't apologize. Never apologize."
"But I want to," he says. "I should have asked you. We should have discussed it. That's what partners do."
Partners. Yeah, well... "And I shouldn't be a bitch about things, especially not when you're right."
I lean over and kiss him. And he kisses me back. It's just getting interesting when...
"Justin! Hello! And Brian!"
Fabulous. It's the two females in their fucking canoe.
"Hi, Missy! Lydia!" He waves at them and they paddle closer.
"Are your guests here?"
"They just got here. They're in the cottage."
"Don't forget about tomorrow, boys. We're planning a feast!"
"We won't. Bye!"
They go paddling off.
So the old dykes saw my dick. I no longer give a shit at this point. After all, who hasn't seen my dick by now? It's practically a National Monument.
"I think it's time to go inside."
"I'll race you to the dock," he says. And dives in.
The fucker. He's always one step ahead of me.
You have to love that. It's incredible.
***
One thing I'll admit about having the munchers here -- they take over all the food preparation. Not that Justin and I were having any difficulty in that department. Justin can do a great breakfast -- waffles, pancakes, eggs, you name it -- and we both can throw a steak or a burger on the grill. But regular cooking is a fucking pain and so is cleaning up. Having someone else do it is... nice.
Lindsay immediately gets into the kitchen and starts cooking. She and Melanie and Emmett chop and stir and mix things up, while Justin and I -- and Ted -- light the firepit and the bug torches. The girls bring out shish kabobs to put on the grill and potato salad and corn and cold pasta and a fucking chocolate cake for dessert.
Yeah, I eat everything. I'm going to have to hit the gym double time when we leave here or I'm going to be bigger than a fucking house.
We're sitting around the fire, enjoying the evening breeze, while Lindsay and Mel put the kids to bed.
"That was good," sighs Justin, leaning back in his lawnchair. He ate even more than I did. But he's a growing boy. Let's hope all the growing isn't going to be in his ass.
"Anyone for more cake?" Emmett is doing his catering thing and making sure everyone is stuffed to the gills.
"No, thanks," says Ted. "I'm full."
"Me, too!" says Justin. "That tasted like Vic's recipe for devil's food cake."
"Your taste buds are very talented, sweetie," says Emmett. "You are entirely correct. But the icing is my Aunt Belle's Coca Cola and chocolate -- a Hazelhurst specialty."
"Coca Cola? You're cooking with fucking Coca Cola?" I shake my head in disbelief. Emmett sets the bar for redneck faggotry.
"Of course," Emmett asserts. "You should taste my mother's Dr. Pepper brownies."
Blah. The thought makes my stomach turn a little. "No thanks."
Emmett puts his hands on his hips. "Why, Mr. Brian Don't-Knock-It-Until-You've-Tried-It Kinney! How can you say such a thing? I know you've had worse things in your mouth than my mother's brownies."
"Please don't put the words 'mother' and 'mouth' in the same sentence. I'm trying to digest my dinner."
"Justin, I saw a computer in the cottage. Do you think I could check my e-mail?" asks Emmett. "I might have some inquiries I need to reply to."
"Sure," says Justin, yawning. "Help yourself."
"Could you come in with me?" Emmett leans down and whispers something in Justin's ear.
"Oh, really?" says Justin. "Sure!"
"What are you two up to?" Whenever Emmett and Justin put their heads together I get suspicious.
"Nothing." Justin gives me a quick kiss. "I'm just going to get him online."
They hustle off towards the cottage, leaving behind me and Ted.
"This is... pleasant," says Theodore.
"Don't ruin it by trying to bond with me."
Ted coughs. "I would never be so presumptuous. But it is pleasant here. I want to thank you for inviting us."
"Thank Justin. He did the inviting. Which he'll pay for after you all leave."
"Of course." he nods. "I should have known."
"But as long as you're here..."
"Yes?" Ted perks up.
"Keep out of my fucking way. Then everything should be fine."
We sit. It's quiet, except for weird nature sounds. Crickets. And the trees moving in the breeze. And things plopping in the water -- frogs or fish or something.
"I've got to go back to Los Angeles," I say, out of the blue. "Soon."
"Is Justin going with you?"
"No." There's a long pause while my stomach clenches. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You mean, without him?"
That's it. Without him. I don't know what I'm going to do without him, even if it's only for a few months.
"Yes."
Ted takes a deep breath. "Do you have a sponsor? Or meetings you can go to?"
"Fuck sponsors. Fuck meetings. Fuck that 12-Step bullshit."
"It works," says Ted. "At least for me."
"You're you. I'm not -- thank God!"
"Everyone needs a support system, Brian. Especially when you're... recovering." Ted is trying to step carefully so I don't kill him.
"I have friends out there. And I'll be working." I hope. Once the shit over 'The Eastern Front' dies down I hope I'll have some more fucking work. Eventually.
"You won't fail, Bri," he says. "You're a strong person."
"Yeah," I sniff. "Which was why I fucked up in the first place. Because I'm so fucking strong! And if you say I need to take it one fucking day at a time, I'll punch you out."
"Then I won't say it." Ted stares up at the sky. "Look at those stars. They look so bright. So close. You never see that in the city."
"No," I reply. "You never do."
We sit until the fire begins to burn down and the mosquitoes get more aggressive. The cottage is lit up and I hear laughter. And someone has put on music from Earl's father's old record collection. Sounds like Sinatra. Ted and I get up and go in for the night.
Lindsay and Melanie are in the kitchen, putting dishes away.
"Lovely meal," says Ted. "That potato salad was almost like my mother's."
"Oh, I should get her recipe," says Lindsay.
"I'll leave you girls to swap cooking tips," I say.
"Brian?" Lindsay touches my arm.
"What now?"
"We're having a wonderful time," she says. "And Gus is over the moon."
"Great." Gus. That's what it's all about. My kid. "Tomorrow I'll take him swimming. And Justin can take him out in the canoe. There are children-sized life jackets in the boat locker."
"Thanks, Dad," Lindsay teases. I see Mel rolling her eyes, but I ignore it.
"Whatever."
Justin and Emmett are at the desk in the living room, peering at the screen of Earl's computer. Justin has the fire going in the hearth and the record player cranked up, a pile of vinyl next to it. Frank is crooning about being drunk in a bar and mooning after some broad. What else is new?
"What's up, ladies?" I ask.
"Oh, nothing," Justin and Emmett both say a little too quickly.
"What are you two up to?" Something is going on.
"Nothing at all," says Emmett. But Justin bursts into laughter. He can't keep anything in, so something is definitely going on.
"What are you looking at? Het porn? I told you that shit will warp your tiny little brains."
"Not het," Justin giggles.
"You looking at hot guys there? Let me see." I push Emmett out of the way and take his seat. "Where are the pictures?"
"No pictures, Brian," says Justin. "This is stories. Fanfiction."
"Fanfiction? What the fuck is that?"
"Stories about TV shows. Or movies. Except with lots of sex." Justin clicks on a link. "See? Here's one group we were looking at. Emmett found it."
I blink at the screen and start reading. "'Bobby unzipped his leather jacket and said, "Suck me now and make it good." Guy dropped to his knees and swallowed Bobby's nine-inch dick in one bite.' "Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm gonna cum in your mouth!" said the star Olympic athlete, his green orbs glazed with lust.' Green orbs? What the fuck is this shit?"
"It's 'Olympian' slash," Justin says. "Actually, it's not technically slash, since Bobby and Guy are having sex in the film, so it's really NC-17 fanfiction."
"Who the hell is writing this stuff?" I scroll up the screen. "Who the fuck is BobbyGirl86?"
"She's the writer," says Emmett. "She writes a lot of Bobby/Guy stories."
"She? You mean females are writing this stuff? It's gay porn! Bad gay porn, but still..."
"Well, Brian," says Justin. "You've said yourself that women like watching hot guys having sex the same as straight men like watching two women doing it. This is just like that, except the women are writing the stories and most of the readers are women, too. I've told you about fanfiction before."
"I know, but this is... strange." I read some more. "Wait a minute -- what they're doing. That sounds impossible!"
"I know," Emmett smirks. "Some of the things they write aren't terribly realistic, but what they lack in technical knowledge, they certainly make up for in enthusiasm. Except that the guys never seem to require any lube."
"I know," says Justin. "Ow!"
"What's this over here?" Justin has another window open and I click on it.
"No, Brian! Wait a minute!"
But I'm already reading. "'The evil blonde twink rubbed his hands together in glee. "This is part of my evil plan! I will lure Jimmy to the warehouse and then take him prisoner and kill him until he's dead! With Jimmy Hardy out of the way, Brain will be mine forever!"' Brain?" I look up. "Who the fuck is 'Brain'?"
"She means Brian," says Emmett. "Some of these stories are lacking in proofreading."
"Or a basic knowledge of the English language," Justin adds.
I stare at the screen. "Brian -- and Jimmy? And who is this evil blond twink?"
"That's an RPS group," says Justin as if that explains everything.
"Real Person Slash," Emmett clarifies. "They mean Jimmy Hardy. And you, Brian. And the evil twink is..."
"Me!" Justin laughs. "All these stories -- and I'm the villain in every one of them. Of course, this is a Brimmy fan group, so it's to be expected."
"Brimmy?"
"Brian and Jimmy, as in Brian Kinney and Jimmy Hardy," says Emmett.
"Jesus Christ."
I read some more of the so-called fiction. The evil blond twink captures Jimmy and is torturing him. Except Jimmy is enjoying it, which makes the evil twink angry, so he tortures him some more. The story comes to a climax with 'Brain' coming to Jimmy's rescue -- and killing the evil twink. It ends with Jimmy and 'Brain' fucking in some ludicrous position.
"This is totally fucked up! Justin, I don't like it."
"It's harmless," he says. "In fact, it's pretty funny."
"I don't think so. I think I need to call my lawyer. Where is this shit being posted?"
Justin grabs the mouse and closes the windows. "That's enough. It's just a bunch of stupid stories. I told you we shouldn't let him see them, Em."
Emmett shakes his head. "Your fans, Mr. Kinney."
I get up and go out to the porch, slamming the screen door behind me. Justin comes out and puts his arm around me. "It's funny, admit it."
"No, it's not," I say. "They used your name. And mine. And Jimmy's. And the things they have you doing.... I don't like it. Those females hate you! What if one of them... did something? Or tried to do something to you?"
"They won't," he assures me. "It's just fantasy. It doesn't bother me. There are thousands of groups like that, for every show and movie, and for every star. It only means that fans are really invested in certain stars. You're one of them."
"But all that stuff about me and Jimmy..." Something inside me feels queasy. "And then they drag you into it -- except it's all turned around!"
"I know," he whispers. "I didn't mean to upset you. Emmett wanted to show me one of the groups and we were laughing at it. It's silly, Brian. It doesn't mean anything."
"I don't like anyone out there thinking about hurting you -- or killing you -- even in a story."
"I'm fine," he says. "I'm right here. We're on vacation. You want to check out the hammock? It's nice and dark outside."
"Maybe."
"Come on." He takes my hand. "I promise it will be incredible -- 'Brain'!"
"Shut the fuck up!"
But he's right. It is incredible.
As always.
and more surprises that you would love.
This chapter -- I think it will live up to its name.
Incredible!
This is Chapter 50 in the "Queer Identities" series.
The narrator is Brian Kinney, and features Justin Taylor, Others.
Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.
Summary: Vacation visitors. Cardinal Lake, Ohio, August 2003.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. This is for fun, not profit. Enjoy.
By Gaedhal
I hate this fucking vacation.
Well, maybe not hate. Loathe. Detest. Revile.
Think pain in the ass. Think mosquitoes. Fucking trees dropping shit all over the place. Fucking birds waking you up in the morning. Fucking lake. Fucking cottage. Fucking cooking out.
Fucking drive-in and fucking flea market.
Fucking incredible!
"Brian? Hey -- are you awake? Look what just popped up to say good morning!"
I guess I don't hate everything about vacation. I like the fucking fucking. That really IS incredible.
Until...
"Who the fuck is here?" I poke my head up from the hammock.
"Um -- I was going to tell you, Brian! I swear! But then... I forgot."
My clothes are in the cottage. My ass is in the hammock. And between them -- Lindsay, Melanie, Emmett, and Ted. And the kids.
I grab Justin by his nipple ring and give it a twist. "Get my jeans. Like, yesterday."
"I'm getting."
And he goes. At top speed.
"Daddy! Daddy! Trees! Lake! Wanna swim!" Gus is so wired that he's practically exploding. "Daddy! Now!"
"We'll go swimming in a little while, Sonny Boy. Why don't you go and look at the house with Auntie Em and Uncle Theodore?"
"'Kay!" he cries and romps off towards the cottage.
"Brian." Lindz grins down at me. "I bet you're surprised to see us."
"'Surprised' is not the word I was thinking of." I'm still in the hammock, a towel covering my dick.
She leans over and kisses me lightly on the forehead. "I'm so glad Justin invited us. When Gus heard we were coming to see you, he was so excited he started jumping up and down. And Melanie couldn't say no to a few days up at a cottage by a beautiful lake. It seems so restful here. So relaxing."
"It was."
"You wanted to see the kids and spend time with them," she continues. "Justin thought this was the perfect solution."
"Well..."
"And..." she adds. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I've seen your penis before. More than once. I've done more than just see it."
"That was Midsummer Madness," I remind her.
Lindsay raises an eyebrow. "And it's midsummer!"
"No fucking way!"
"I was only joking." She looks around. "Here comes Justin."
He's running back at top speed. And he has my jeans. "Here, Brian. Hi, Lindsay. How were my directions?"
I jump out of the hammock and pull on my pants.
"Perfect. And it didn't take as long as I thought it would."
"That's great!" he says. "Melanie is unpacking a lot of food in there."
"We brought enough to feed an army," says Lindz. "I wasn't sure if there were stores around here, and with Ted and Emmett coming with us..."
"What's with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum along for the free ride?" I ask, buttoning up.
"Justin said it would be nice to invite them." She smiles sweetly. "He said there'd be plenty of room. And they can help watch the kids."
"Wait until you guys meet Missy and Lydia," says Justin. "They're artists. We're going over to their place for a cook-out tomorrow night."
"We are?" No one fucking tells me anything!
"I thought I mentioned it." He glances at me and shrugs. "You'll really like their place, Lindz. Their art is everywhere and it's amazing. And they have five Corgies."
"Oh, Gus will love that! He's started asking for a dog," Lindsay confides.
"Great. That's all you need," I comment. "With a three-year-old and a new baby, a fucking dog!"
"What's wrong with a dog?" asks Justin, slyly. He's been hinting about a dog forever.
"Besides the fact that you're fucking deathly allergic to them? They eat your clothes, they chew your furniture, they shit all over the place, and you have to walk them in the rain, snow, and sleet, that's what's wrong."
"He loves dogs. Really," Justin insists to Lindsay. "You should see him with Armani, Ron's old dog. Diane has him now. But he loves Brian. He's a Shih Tzu."
"Oh, I remember from when we visited last year. With the little red bow in his hair!" Lindsay gushes. "He was so cute!"
"Cute as a fucking wart on your ass," I say. "That Armani is a fucking menace!"
"He's kidding," says Justin.
"No, I'm not."
"I should go inside," Lindsay interjects. "I'm sure Mel needs help unpacking all those groceries."
I leave the dykes to the food, while I stomp off to the lake. I strip off the jeans I just put on and swim out to the raft. Justin is right behind me, splashing to keep up.
"Brian! Wait up!"
"I'm not speaking to you." I pull myself up onto the raft. The sun is beginning to go down below the trees, but it's still nice and hot on the lake.
"This is a great opportunity to spend time with Gus and Charity," he says. "Before you have to leave."
"Who says I'm leaving?"
He hangs onto the side of the raft and tries to pull himself up. "I know you're leaving, Brian. You have to go back for reshoots and dubbing. I heard you talking to Dorian on your cell."
I reach out my hand and drag him up. "Use the fucking ladder!" I tell him as he shakes off the water. "It's not like I'm going tomorrow."
"I know." He lies down next to me. "Gus misses you. And you miss him."
I don't answer.
"It's only for a few days. There's room in the cottage. Ted and Em can sleep on the porch. I told them to bring sleeping bags."
"So this was all planned?"
"Not really," he admits. "I only called them yesterday, but Mel was able to take some time off. If you have to be mad, then be mad at me. I invited them. Don't be a bitch about it to everyone else."
That stings. "I'm never a bitch to anyone! Who says I'm a fucking bitch?"
"No one."
That always burns my ass. People thinking I'm not a kind person. Not a sympathetic person. I may have my faults, but that's not one of them. I'm extremely empathetic! And fuck anyone who thinks otherwise!
We lie there quietly.
It is fucking beautiful at the lake.
"I'm sorry," he says, finally.
"Don't apologize. Never apologize."
"But I want to," he says. "I should have asked you. We should have discussed it. That's what partners do."
Partners. Yeah, well... "And I shouldn't be a bitch about things, especially not when you're right."
I lean over and kiss him. And he kisses me back. It's just getting interesting when...
"Justin! Hello! And Brian!"
Fabulous. It's the two females in their fucking canoe.
"Hi, Missy! Lydia!" He waves at them and they paddle closer.
"Are your guests here?"
"They just got here. They're in the cottage."
"Don't forget about tomorrow, boys. We're planning a feast!"
"We won't. Bye!"
They go paddling off.
So the old dykes saw my dick. I no longer give a shit at this point. After all, who hasn't seen my dick by now? It's practically a National Monument.
"I think it's time to go inside."
"I'll race you to the dock," he says. And dives in.
The fucker. He's always one step ahead of me.
You have to love that. It's incredible.
***
One thing I'll admit about having the munchers here -- they take over all the food preparation. Not that Justin and I were having any difficulty in that department. Justin can do a great breakfast -- waffles, pancakes, eggs, you name it -- and we both can throw a steak or a burger on the grill. But regular cooking is a fucking pain and so is cleaning up. Having someone else do it is... nice.
Lindsay immediately gets into the kitchen and starts cooking. She and Melanie and Emmett chop and stir and mix things up, while Justin and I -- and Ted -- light the firepit and the bug torches. The girls bring out shish kabobs to put on the grill and potato salad and corn and cold pasta and a fucking chocolate cake for dessert.
Yeah, I eat everything. I'm going to have to hit the gym double time when we leave here or I'm going to be bigger than a fucking house.
We're sitting around the fire, enjoying the evening breeze, while Lindsay and Mel put the kids to bed.
"That was good," sighs Justin, leaning back in his lawnchair. He ate even more than I did. But he's a growing boy. Let's hope all the growing isn't going to be in his ass.
"Anyone for more cake?" Emmett is doing his catering thing and making sure everyone is stuffed to the gills.
"No, thanks," says Ted. "I'm full."
"Me, too!" says Justin. "That tasted like Vic's recipe for devil's food cake."
"Your taste buds are very talented, sweetie," says Emmett. "You are entirely correct. But the icing is my Aunt Belle's Coca Cola and chocolate -- a Hazelhurst specialty."
"Coca Cola? You're cooking with fucking Coca Cola?" I shake my head in disbelief. Emmett sets the bar for redneck faggotry.
"Of course," Emmett asserts. "You should taste my mother's Dr. Pepper brownies."
Blah. The thought makes my stomach turn a little. "No thanks."
Emmett puts his hands on his hips. "Why, Mr. Brian Don't-Knock-It-Until-You've-Tried-It Kinney! How can you say such a thing? I know you've had worse things in your mouth than my mother's brownies."
"Please don't put the words 'mother' and 'mouth' in the same sentence. I'm trying to digest my dinner."
"Justin, I saw a computer in the cottage. Do you think I could check my e-mail?" asks Emmett. "I might have some inquiries I need to reply to."
"Sure," says Justin, yawning. "Help yourself."
"Could you come in with me?" Emmett leans down and whispers something in Justin's ear.
"Oh, really?" says Justin. "Sure!"
"What are you two up to?" Whenever Emmett and Justin put their heads together I get suspicious.
"Nothing." Justin gives me a quick kiss. "I'm just going to get him online."
They hustle off towards the cottage, leaving behind me and Ted.
"This is... pleasant," says Theodore.
"Don't ruin it by trying to bond with me."
Ted coughs. "I would never be so presumptuous. But it is pleasant here. I want to thank you for inviting us."
"Thank Justin. He did the inviting. Which he'll pay for after you all leave."
"Of course." he nods. "I should have known."
"But as long as you're here..."
"Yes?" Ted perks up.
"Keep out of my fucking way. Then everything should be fine."
We sit. It's quiet, except for weird nature sounds. Crickets. And the trees moving in the breeze. And things plopping in the water -- frogs or fish or something.
"I've got to go back to Los Angeles," I say, out of the blue. "Soon."
"Is Justin going with you?"
"No." There's a long pause while my stomach clenches. "I don't know what I'm going to do."
"You mean, without him?"
That's it. Without him. I don't know what I'm going to do without him, even if it's only for a few months.
"Yes."
Ted takes a deep breath. "Do you have a sponsor? Or meetings you can go to?"
"Fuck sponsors. Fuck meetings. Fuck that 12-Step bullshit."
"It works," says Ted. "At least for me."
"You're you. I'm not -- thank God!"
"Everyone needs a support system, Brian. Especially when you're... recovering." Ted is trying to step carefully so I don't kill him.
"I have friends out there. And I'll be working." I hope. Once the shit over 'The Eastern Front' dies down I hope I'll have some more fucking work. Eventually.
"You won't fail, Bri," he says. "You're a strong person."
"Yeah," I sniff. "Which was why I fucked up in the first place. Because I'm so fucking strong! And if you say I need to take it one fucking day at a time, I'll punch you out."
"Then I won't say it." Ted stares up at the sky. "Look at those stars. They look so bright. So close. You never see that in the city."
"No," I reply. "You never do."
We sit until the fire begins to burn down and the mosquitoes get more aggressive. The cottage is lit up and I hear laughter. And someone has put on music from Earl's father's old record collection. Sounds like Sinatra. Ted and I get up and go in for the night.
Lindsay and Melanie are in the kitchen, putting dishes away.
"Lovely meal," says Ted. "That potato salad was almost like my mother's."
"Oh, I should get her recipe," says Lindsay.
"I'll leave you girls to swap cooking tips," I say.
"Brian?" Lindsay touches my arm.
"What now?"
"We're having a wonderful time," she says. "And Gus is over the moon."
"Great." Gus. That's what it's all about. My kid. "Tomorrow I'll take him swimming. And Justin can take him out in the canoe. There are children-sized life jackets in the boat locker."
"Thanks, Dad," Lindsay teases. I see Mel rolling her eyes, but I ignore it.
"Whatever."
Justin and Emmett are at the desk in the living room, peering at the screen of Earl's computer. Justin has the fire going in the hearth and the record player cranked up, a pile of vinyl next to it. Frank is crooning about being drunk in a bar and mooning after some broad. What else is new?
"What's up, ladies?" I ask.
"Oh, nothing," Justin and Emmett both say a little too quickly.
"What are you two up to?" Something is going on.
"Nothing at all," says Emmett. But Justin bursts into laughter. He can't keep anything in, so something is definitely going on.
"What are you looking at? Het porn? I told you that shit will warp your tiny little brains."
"Not het," Justin giggles.
"You looking at hot guys there? Let me see." I push Emmett out of the way and take his seat. "Where are the pictures?"
"No pictures, Brian," says Justin. "This is stories. Fanfiction."
"Fanfiction? What the fuck is that?"
"Stories about TV shows. Or movies. Except with lots of sex." Justin clicks on a link. "See? Here's one group we were looking at. Emmett found it."
I blink at the screen and start reading. "'Bobby unzipped his leather jacket and said, "Suck me now and make it good." Guy dropped to his knees and swallowed Bobby's nine-inch dick in one bite.' "Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm gonna cum in your mouth!" said the star Olympic athlete, his green orbs glazed with lust.' Green orbs? What the fuck is this shit?"
"It's 'Olympian' slash," Justin says. "Actually, it's not technically slash, since Bobby and Guy are having sex in the film, so it's really NC-17 fanfiction."
"Who the hell is writing this stuff?" I scroll up the screen. "Who the fuck is BobbyGirl86?"
"She's the writer," says Emmett. "She writes a lot of Bobby/Guy stories."
"She? You mean females are writing this stuff? It's gay porn! Bad gay porn, but still..."
"Well, Brian," says Justin. "You've said yourself that women like watching hot guys having sex the same as straight men like watching two women doing it. This is just like that, except the women are writing the stories and most of the readers are women, too. I've told you about fanfiction before."
"I know, but this is... strange." I read some more. "Wait a minute -- what they're doing. That sounds impossible!"
"I know," Emmett smirks. "Some of the things they write aren't terribly realistic, but what they lack in technical knowledge, they certainly make up for in enthusiasm. Except that the guys never seem to require any lube."
"I know," says Justin. "Ow!"
"What's this over here?" Justin has another window open and I click on it.
"No, Brian! Wait a minute!"
But I'm already reading. "'The evil blonde twink rubbed his hands together in glee. "This is part of my evil plan! I will lure Jimmy to the warehouse and then take him prisoner and kill him until he's dead! With Jimmy Hardy out of the way, Brain will be mine forever!"' Brain?" I look up. "Who the fuck is 'Brain'?"
"She means Brian," says Emmett. "Some of these stories are lacking in proofreading."
"Or a basic knowledge of the English language," Justin adds.
I stare at the screen. "Brian -- and Jimmy? And who is this evil blond twink?"
"That's an RPS group," says Justin as if that explains everything.
"Real Person Slash," Emmett clarifies. "They mean Jimmy Hardy. And you, Brian. And the evil twink is..."
"Me!" Justin laughs. "All these stories -- and I'm the villain in every one of them. Of course, this is a Brimmy fan group, so it's to be expected."
"Brimmy?"
"Brian and Jimmy, as in Brian Kinney and Jimmy Hardy," says Emmett.
"Jesus Christ."
I read some more of the so-called fiction. The evil blond twink captures Jimmy and is torturing him. Except Jimmy is enjoying it, which makes the evil twink angry, so he tortures him some more. The story comes to a climax with 'Brain' coming to Jimmy's rescue -- and killing the evil twink. It ends with Jimmy and 'Brain' fucking in some ludicrous position.
"This is totally fucked up! Justin, I don't like it."
"It's harmless," he says. "In fact, it's pretty funny."
"I don't think so. I think I need to call my lawyer. Where is this shit being posted?"
Justin grabs the mouse and closes the windows. "That's enough. It's just a bunch of stupid stories. I told you we shouldn't let him see them, Em."
Emmett shakes his head. "Your fans, Mr. Kinney."
I get up and go out to the porch, slamming the screen door behind me. Justin comes out and puts his arm around me. "It's funny, admit it."
"No, it's not," I say. "They used your name. And mine. And Jimmy's. And the things they have you doing.... I don't like it. Those females hate you! What if one of them... did something? Or tried to do something to you?"
"They won't," he assures me. "It's just fantasy. It doesn't bother me. There are thousands of groups like that, for every show and movie, and for every star. It only means that fans are really invested in certain stars. You're one of them."
"But all that stuff about me and Jimmy..." Something inside me feels queasy. "And then they drag you into it -- except it's all turned around!"
"I know," he whispers. "I didn't mean to upset you. Emmett wanted to show me one of the groups and we were laughing at it. It's silly, Brian. It doesn't mean anything."
"I don't like anyone out there thinking about hurting you -- or killing you -- even in a story."
"I'm fine," he says. "I'm right here. We're on vacation. You want to check out the hammock? It's nice and dark outside."
"Maybe."
"Come on." He takes my hand. "I promise it will be incredible -- 'Brain'!"
"Shut the fuck up!"
But he's right. It is incredible.
As always.