Leopard and Lace & Nautical Misunderstandings

By Kattali

Leopard & Lace

Summary: Feeling bad for Justin, after Brian tosses him aside for another, Emmett invites him back to his apartment
for an evening of innocent fun. Or is it innocent? Brian has his suspicions.

Brian crouched down and gazed over the yellow ball. Yes, the exact point to aim for if he was going to make the
shot. He then returned to the position of the cue ball. Aiming, he moved the cue stick between his fingers with an
easy glide, stroking it back and forth until it felt just right.

Emmett leaned into Ted and whispered, "He can't do it. It's impossible. He won't make it. There's no way he'll make
the shot."

"Will you shut the fuck up," Brian growled.

"Oh, sorry," Emmett winced. "Tic-a-lock."

Brian regained his focus. His voice grew soft, "Five ball and eight ball in the corner pocket."

Michael held his breath. Justin kept his eyes glued on Brian as the pool stick glided forward and hit the cue ball. The
follow-through was perfect. The tip of the stick met its target and drove the ball across the table in its intended path.
The ball hit the diamond mark on the cushion rail, then set forth at the angle toward the side pocket. Keeping its
momentum, the cue ball first hit the yellow ball then the black ball with such force that they battled against each
other before the yellow ball toppled into the pocket. The black ball teetered on the edge, then finally met its death as
well.

Brian stood up tall and cocky. "Game over."

"Shit!" Michael yelled.

Justin smiled proudly.

"Lucky asshole," Ted grumbled.

"I knew he could do it," Emmett said. "It was a perfect set up. He had the perfect shot."

Michael glanced at his watch. "I have to go. Inventory night at the Big Q."

"I have to go, too," Ted grabbed his jacket.

"Why, Ted, do you have a date?" Brian teased.

"Fuck you," he snapped, leaving abruptly.

"Was it something I said?" he smirked.

"You can be such an ass," Michael said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Whatever," Brian said halfheartedly, for his attention had shifted to the tall muscular man, who slowly walked by
maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.

"Brian," Justin spoke up. "Let's go."

"I've got plans," he said, setting the pool stick on the table.

"You have plans with me. Remember?"

"I didn't promise," Brian said.

Justin looked away, hurt and angry.

Emmett put his arm around the young man's shoulders as they watched Brian walk over to his next fuck du jour and
whisper in his ear. The man smiled coyly, left his beer on the counter, and followed Brian out of Woody's.

Justin sat silently.

"Well, it's just you and me," Emmett gave him a squeeze. "A queen and a princess abandoned by an unruly court."

"The only one who's being unruly is Brian, and that's not going to change," he grumbled. "I'm his back up plan.
That's all I am. That's all I'll ever be."

"Brian is a -"

Justin cut him off, "Don't say anything bad about him."

"Princess, since you don't have any plans, how about coming back to my place? Little porn, some pizza, black
raspberry ice cream. How about it?"

"Guess it would be better than sitting at home watching T.V. with Vic," he sighed.

"Damn right it would be," Emmett declared. "Nothing against Vic. He's a sweetie. I mean for his age. Not that he's
over the hill. I totally respect men his age. I mean we're going to be old some day. Not that he's old, old. You know
what I mean."

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Brian didn't make it to his jeep before the first encounter of the night. Pressed against the building, he felt the eager
fuck du jour unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. Already aroused, heat filled his body. The man's thumb caressed
the sensitive head as his stalk throbbed with anticipation. Brain was in no mood to fool around.

"Suck it," he ordered.

The man flicked his tongue against the deep red tip, as beads of pre-cum juice formed at the piss-slit. Brian moaned
and humped toward the man. He rammed his cock deep into the man's gullet and began thrusting. His cock jerked
and twitched as his load erupted, finally giving him the relief that was weighing him down.

The man, aroused by his own mounting hard-on, started pumping up his cock. Brian zipped up his pants and waited
for him to finish himself off. He glanced over at the entrance to Woody's. Emmett and Justin came out the door and
headed down the street with their arms around each other's waists. Brian furrowed his brow.

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Emmett shut the door and threw up his arms in Vannah White style. "This is my humble abode. Make yourself
comfortable."

Justin scanned the room. It wasn't what he expected. Although he wasn't sure what he did expect -- perhaps lava
lamps and orange fuzzy rugs. He dropped his jacket on the back of the kitchen chair and set out to explore.

There were a few pictures scattered about. Mostly they were of Emmett and Ted, and Emmett and Michael. Some
were of Emmett, Ted, Michael, and Brian. A spark of jealousy went through Justin. As much as he wanted to be part
of the boy's club, he couldn't be. They had a history together. He was becoming more accepted by the group. At least
he was getting that feeling. Michael wasn't throwing around angry, snide remarks as much anymore. But they all
still thought of him as the school boy who couldn't possibly know anything about anything. Justin knew better. He
had grown up fast over the past months.

"Coming out" had forced him to face bigotry at school and in his own home. His relationship with his father had
deteriorated because of his sexual orientation. His father didn't want anything do with his "faggot" son. His parents
had divorced. He was living with a new family. Liberty Avenue had become a second home. Brian Kinney had
schooled him in the art of fucking, and Justin was good at it. No, he was excellent. After all, he excelled at
everything he did.

He turned the corner and separated the hanging beads to the entrance into Emmett's bedroom. Justin smiled. This
was more like it. The pink, orange, and violet pinwheel patterned bedspread practically jumped off the waterbed.

He walked around the room, taking in everything - the Cher poster hanging on the wall, the shelf of gold, silver, and
leather cock rings, and autographed pictures of porn stars.

"Fuck me," he whispered, fingering the long black wig sitting on a dressing table.

Emmett sashayed into the room, "Pizza ordered. Oh! You found Cher."

"Huh?" Justin furrowed his brow.

"If you could see me now," he sung, grabbing the brush off the dressing table and taking an ostentatious pose. "Did
you know that Cher's real name is Cherilyn Sarkasian?"

"No," he shook his head.

Emmett studied Justin's face. "You have beautiful features."

"Thanks. I guess."

"We should have some fun. Escape Pittsburgh. Escape life as we know it. We should become someone else for the
night."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked.

Emmett smiled impishly.

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Brain lay on the bed as he watched the man pull off his t-shirt. His butt was magnificent and enticing. Brian had the
urgent need to get his cock deep inside it. The man lowered his jeans and his dick flipped out. It was long, thick, and
standing up like a flagpole. Brian felt his own dick hardening, and he reached down taking his shaft and stroked it
with long easy moves.

"What's your name?" Brian asked.

"Jared," he answered, lying down next to him.

Brian straddled the man, taking his massive dick. He rolled his foreskin between his fingers, feeling the hard head
under the soft skin. Pre-cum oozed out. Jared pulled Brian toward him, kissing him hard.

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"You are gorgeous as a blonde," Emmett swung open the door to a shelf full of wigs. "But I think as a red head
you'd be a knock-out. Hmmm," he looked over the selection. "Firehorn Red. Yes, this is the one!"

He removed a canvas head holding a beautiful red wig that was shoulder length in a page style. The bangs were
feathered and the style layered.

"Now that we have the hairstyle all picked out, we need to do your make-up. Have a seat," he pointed to the chair by
the dressing table.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Justin said.

"First the base," Emmett put on his serious face and began applying the cream make-up to Justin's cheeks.

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Brian pulled away. "Not so fast." He pushed Jared down on the bed and anchored Jared's wrists. "You're a little too
eager."

Jared was breathing heavily. Brian liked being in control, taunting and tormenting the man. He kissed his way down
his chest and into his pubic hair. Jared's cock stood up like a column of rock. Brian gripped his balls. The man
gasped, then let out a moan.

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"The secret of blush is to blend," Emmett applied the russet colored blush to Justin's cheeks. "You have beautiful
cheek bones. Now the lips."

"What color?" Justin looked over the tray of lipsticks. "I don't want anything that makes me look slutty."

"Of course not, darling," he said. "How about Panic Button?" He slipped the lipstick out of it's container.

"That's nice," he approved.

Emmett found a matching lip liner and shaped Justin's lips before applying the red shade of lipstick with the lip
brush.

"Smack you lips together like this," he instructed.

Justin did so.

"Now we blot," Emmett placed a Kleenex between his lips. "Now the eyes. We need to bring out those gorgeous
baby blues of yours. I have it! A combination of midnight blues!"

"I feel weird," he admitted.

"Oh, hon, don't. You wait until you see yourself! You'll be wishing you had done this sooner!"

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Brian's dick and balls were throbbing. He rolled Jared over face down and knelt astride his legs. He grabbed a
condom off the night stand and ripped it open with his teeth. He rolled it down his shaft, then grabbed the tube of K-
Y. He applied a liberal amount to his fingers.

Jared squirmed. "Fuck me."

"In time," Brian slid a finger inside the man's asshole.

He was tight, but with some work Jared's anus was stretched at last to accommodate three fingers. Brian's dick nosed
into the cleft between the man's cheeks, throbbing. He grabbed Jared's hips and pushed with his dick, burying it deep
inside. The man grunted.

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"Let me see," Justin reached for the hand mirror.

Emmett slapped his hand. "Not yet. You want to take in the whole experience at once." He fitted the wig cap on
Justin's head. "Lean forward."

"Here goes," he leaned over.

He felt the Firethorn Red wig being tightly fit on his head. Once in place he looked up.

"Oh!" Emmett covered his mouth. "Darling, you...look...fabulous. Let me style." He took his brush and gently
arranged the locks. He paused for a moment and stared at him. "I've created a masterpiece."

"I want to see," Justin stood up to glance in the mirror.

Emmett grabbed him by the shoulders. "Not just yet. You need an outfit. Something adorable. Something retro.
Something, something...I have just the outfit!"

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Brian's body was like a fucking machine. His enormous cock was buried deep inside Jared as momentum had taken
charge of him. Muscles that tilted his body drove his shaft. His dick burned as it slammed harder and faster into
Jared's asshole. His muscles tensed as his thrusts became more urgent. His mouth twisted wryly and his eyes
squeezed shut; the desperate need to release was locked in his expression. Jared moaned and groaned underneath
him as Brian's body convulsed, wracked with spasms. His load burst free, then he collapsed on top of the man.

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Justin smoothed his hands down over the leopard print leather mini skirt that was so short he felt the lower part of
his ass-cheeks would be exposed if he bent over even the slightest. He then adjusted the garter belt holding up the
opaque hosiery. The lacy thong underwear felt strange and itchy, but Emmett assured him that it would feel more
comfortable with time. The padded bra wasn't any better. It was odd seeing himself with breasts. The tight orange v-
neck lacy belly shirt accentuated them. Wispy red locks framed his face. He steadied himself on the leopard pumps
as he turned first right, then left as he gazed at himself in the mirror.

"I don't look like me," he commented.

"That's the whole purpose of being in drag," Emmett said. "You get to be someone else. And tonight you are...You
need a new name." He thought for a moment. "I have it. Desiree. Which in French means..."

"Desired," Justin said.

"And hon, you'd be desired by any man," he kissed him on the cheek.

As odd as Justin felt, there was a rush of excitement that spread through him.

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Brian looked over at Jared, whose dick glistened wet with semen.

"That was fabulous," the man rolled onto his side and rested his head on a propped up hand.

He didn't answer. His thoughts were on Justin - the milky color of his skin, his perfectly formed body, his tiny, pink
nipples, the firm globes of his butt, and his smooth cock that had a tint of illusive pink. Brian felt himself harden. He
wanted Justin more than ever.

The thought of Emmett and him walking down Liberty Avenue with their arms around each other's waist bothered
him. Emmett always hugging and kissing Justin. A peck on the cheek here. A hug there. But would they fuck?

"Are you ready for another round?" Jared asked.

"Get out," Brian snapped.

"What?"

"I said leave," he got off the bed and pulled on his jeans. "We're finished."

"But we just started," Jared said.

"All good things must come to an end," Brian smirked.

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Emmett disappeared behind the bedroom door while Justin paid the pizza delivery man, got out a few beers, and set
up the living room coffee table for their late evening snack.

He was given the task of picking out a good porn movie, which was difficult given the numerous videos Emmett had
in his collection.

"How did you get so many videos?" Justin yelled.

"I belong to a video of the month club," Emmett yelled back. "When you first join, you get to pick twelve videos for
the fee of ten dollars. Then you only have to buy four videos at the regular price. Which isn't a problem for me."

"Obviously," he sighed. "Any suggestions?"

"Do you have a specific interest?"

Justin didn't want to admit it, but he was hoping that Emmett had some S&M videos. Nothing hardcore. Something
mild with bondage and spanking. He had heard Brian talking about the Leather Ball, and it intrigued him.

"How about bondage with some S&M?" Justin waited for a reaction.

"S&M?"

"Not hardcore."

"Third shelf, in the middle. The Fallen Angel series. It's not really hardcore, but it's not mild either. I think you'll like
any of those," Emmett called back.

He scanned the third shelf. "How the Hell does he know the location?" he mumbled to himself.

"Whooo!" Emmett appeared at the door dressed as Cher in a purple halter top and matching hip hugger bell-bottoms.
He flipped back his black hair and pointed to Justin. "I got you, babe."

Justin laughed.

Emmett remained in true form and swung his hips from side to side as he approached the boy. "I got you to hold my
hand. I got you to understand," he slid his hand around Justin's waist and took his right hand in his left. He sang
softly as they danced. "I got you to walk with me. I got you to talk with me. I got you to kiss goodnight." He brushed
his lips against Justin's. "I got you to hold me tight. I got you, I won't let go. I got you who loves me so. I got you,
babe." He pulled the young man closer. "You're no backup fuck, Justin," he whispered. "Brian will realize that when
he decides to stop being a prick."

He rested his head on Emmett's shoulder and continued the slow rhythm of the dance.

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Brian slammed the phone down. "Fuck!"

Justin wasn't home. There was only one other place where he could be spending his time. And that would be at
Emmett's apartment.

He grabbed his keys.

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Justin threw the half eaten slice of pizza down on the plate. "I'm stuffed."

"With your appetite? I'm shocked!" Emmett said dramatically. "But us gals do need to keep our figures."

"You can eat anything."

"Metabolism, darling. It's all in the metabolism. Doesn't hurt working out, though," he grabbed the video and
inserted it into the player. "Now that we have our snack out of the way, and we can turn our full attention on eating
dick and ass, let's start our descent into butt-pounding, throat-choking, leather, flogging, bondage, hardcore sucking,
fucking, and rimming."

Justin laughed, "You have a nice way of putting things." He made himself comfortable on the couch.

"Have I told you tonight how fabulous you look?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah," he blushed. "It still feels weird."

He took a seat beside him. "Desiree?"

"Yes, Cher?"

"I'm glad I wore my hip huggers instead of my red velvet jumpsuit," he smiled and hit the play button.

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Justin and Emmett jumped when the doorbell rang and repeated crashes came down upon the door at the same time.

Justin shut off the television.

"Hold your balls!" Emmett yelled as he ran to answer the door. He paused before he removed the chain. "Who is it?"

"Open the fuckin door!"

He removed the chain, turned the bolt, then opened the door. "Brian. What brings you by so late this evening?" He
flipped back his long black hair.

"It's not Halloween." He pushed his way past Emmett. "Where's Justin?"

"Justin? There's no Justin here."

Brian walked straight into the living room. "Justin!"

Emmett came up beside him.

Justin, who had slumped down in the couch, stood up and made himself visible. He turned around slowly to face
Brian. His baby blue eyes looked intensely at him. He brushed the wisps of red hair off his face.

Brian's mouth dropped open. "Justin? Jesus, Emmett. What the fuck did you do to him?"

"Desiree. He's Desiree tonight." Emmett said flippantly.

Brian turned to him. "Fuck you," he said angrily.

"Don't be angry at him," Justin spoke up.

"Why the fuck did you let him do this?" Brian spurted out.

"We're just having fun," he answered.

"You're coming with me," he took his hand.

Justin yanked it away. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he glared at the boy.

"I have plans with Emmett! And unlike some people I know, I don't renege!"

"You're not staying here," he grabbed Justin's hand in a tight grip.

"Let go!" Justin yelled, pulling frantically in an attempt to free himself.

"You asked for it," Brian roughly tossed him onto his shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing? You let me down!" he struck him on the back.

Brian looked at Justin's exposed ass. "Oh for fuck sake!"

Emmett cocked his head. "He does have a nice ass."

"Did you fuck him?" Brian mouthed.

"Moi?" Emmett placed his hand on his chest. He shook his head.

Brian's eyes were daggers as he stared back. He leaned into Emmett and whispered, "You say one word about this to
anyone, and I'll string you up by your balls."

He stormed out of the apartment with Justin over his shoulder.

Emmett sighed, "The White Knight saving his Princess." He furrowed his brow. "And from me. Who would have
thunk?"

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Brian sat Justin down on the passenger seat of the jeep, then locked and shut the door. He quickly slid into the
driver's seat.

Justin kept trying the switch to spring the lock, but it wouldn't work. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Give it up. It's on child lock." Brian informed him. "Put on your seat belt."

"This is kidnaping."

"Put on your seat belt," he repeated.

Justin didn't move.

Brian shook his head and reached over, grabbing the seat belt. "You can be so damn childish." He stretched it over
Justin's shoulder and waist and anchored it in place.

Justin looked out the side window.

Brian brushed the red hair off the young man's cheek. His hand was met with a swat.

"Get your hands off me."

He turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the side of the road. "You really like being in drag?"

Justin snapped around and gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, I like it."

"Really?"

"I love it. All of it! The wig. The make up. The outfit. It makes me feel sexy."

Brian thought he'd have a little fun with this declaration. "So you wouldn't have any problem going out in public like
this?"

Justin hesitated, then said with the most assertive voice he could conjure up, "Not at all. I love this look."

"You do look exceptionally sexy. Let's go to Babylon or Woody's."

He bit his lip. This was not what he expected. "No. I don't trust you. I don't have my wallet. You'll hook up with
some hot guy you'll want to fuck and leave me high and dry. I'll have no way to get home."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Brian said.

"Yes, you would," Justin countered.

"Well if you're that concerned, then we'll go to the diner," he suggested. "That way you can show off your hot, new
sexy self, and if I do find some guy to take home and fuck, then you can go home with Deb."

"Fuck you!" he swatted Brian in the chest. "Take me back to Emmett's."

"No way," Brian said. "That Queen's a bad influence on you."

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Justin's continued resistance to cooperate resulted in Brian having to carry him up to the loft. He was getting tired of
his childishness. He dropped the young man onto the couch.

"You don't own me," Justin crossed his arms.

"Don't insult me," Brian spat. "I'm the last person on this earth who would own someone."

"I'm not your backup fuck!"

"Who the Hell is filling your head with this shit? Emmett?"

"I don't need anyone filling my head with ideas. I can think on my own," Justin stood up. He teetered on the leopard
print pumps. Regaining his balance, he headed for the kitchen. He knew where Brian kept a stash of cash. He'd only
take enough for a cab.

"What are you doing?" Brian came up behind him.

"It's your fault I don't have my wallet," Justin shut the cupboard after taking a couple twenties. "I'll pay you back."

"You're not going anywhere dressed like that."

"I don't have much choice since my clothes are at Emmett's, you asshole!"

Brian backed him against the counter. He grabbed Justin by the back of the neck. Their eyes met. He pressed his lips
against Justin's, then thrust his tongue deep inside with a desperate hunger. The young man answered back by
slipping his tongue into his hot, wet opening. Brian lifted him up onto the counter and moved his hands up and down
the young man's inner thighs.

Justin pulled off Brian's t-shirt. He brushed kisses against his neck and nibbled on his ear.

Brian had his pants off and was standing naked in front of Justin. The young man's eyes drank Brian in like a glass
of fine wine: the supple neck, the sensuous, full lips, broad shoulders, lithe arms, firm stomach, lean body, and
impressive cock. His magnificent slab of manhood was growing hard by the seconds.

"You can't honestly tell me that you like being in drag." Brian pulled the orange lace belly shirt off Justin.

"No. It feels weird," he admitted.

He unhooked the bra with one hand. "B cup. You think he'd at least put you in a C-cup."

Justin smiled.

"Now this is more like it," Brian slid his hands over the young man's chest, then kissed each of his tiny, pink nipples.

He teased Justin's nipples with his tongue, licking and sucking. He took the nipple ring in his mouth, tugging and
pulling until the young man moaned.

"I want you," Justin whispered, the ache in his cock growing stronger.

He wrapped his legs around Brian's waist and hugged him. He was lifted off the counter and carried to the bed.

Brian laid him down. He unzipped the skirt and pulled it off. He stared at the bulging lacy underwear and garter belt.
"Jesus, Justin. I could kill Emmett."

"It's not Emmett's fault," he said. "I agreed. I don't let anyone do anything to me that I don't want done."

Brian removed the leopard pumps from Justin's feet, then unhooked the hosiery from the garter belt. He slid off the
hose, first one leg and then the other.

"Have I been bad?" Justin asked teasingly, sitting up. He brushed his thumb against Brian's lower lip. His baby blues
sparkled with a wide-eyed innocense that was merely a smoke screen. "Are you going to punish to me?" He darted
his tongue into Brian's mouth.

Without warning, Justin found himself being thrown over Brian's lap with his ass up in the air. A hand came down
on his naked ass-cheek. The stinging slap brought tears to his eyes.

"Ow!" Justin cried out.

"That'll teach you," Brian said.

He pulled off the lacy thong underwear and the garter belt. Justin felt Brian's cock pressing hard against his thigh.

"Fuck me," Justin said.

Another stinging slap met his ass-cheek.

"Ow!" Justin gripped the sheet. "Enough!"

"You said you wanted to be punished," Brian pushed him onto the bed.

"Are you going to fuck me or not?"

Brian climbed on top of Justin and ground his body against him. His fiery flesh aroused every sense in the young
man's body.

"The wig has got to go," he whispered into his ear.

His hot breath on Justin's neck sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't concentrate even as Brian pulled off the
Firehorn Red wig and the cap liner underneath.

"Mmm, better," he ran his fingers through Justin's golden locks.

Then Brian took the young man's mouth, sucking the sweetness from it. Justin squirmed under him. Brian's lips
blazed a trail down his neck, pausing to lick and suck his nipples before moving downward until contacting the tip
of the young man's cock. He ran his tongue along the bulging vein, feeling it pulsating. He flicked his tongue against
the head, then lightly kissed it.

"Fuck me," Justin whimpered. "Now. Do it now."

Brian rolled a condom down his rock hard shaft, then lifted Justin's legs up over his shoulders. He lubed his dick,
then squeezed a liberal amount into Justin's hole. The young man moaned and arched his back, offering up his
hungry ass.

Brian pressed the head of his cock against Justin's anus. He eased it inside, but stopped when he felt Justin's
sphincter muscle gripping the shaft. Brian put his arms around the young man and held him, feeling the satisfaction
and excitement of penetrating him like that.

Justin was moaning and groaning as Brian drove his dick slowly into him. The young man was overcome by the
incredible sense of fullness. The dick felt enormously satisfying in his rectum. Holding Brian inside him, possessing
him, having him gave Justin a feeling that they were one.

Innately, they succumbed to their natural rhythm, first thrusting slowly then faster and faster. Brian could feel
Justin's dick thick and rigid against his stomach. His hips were wildly thrusting, sending burning sensations along
Brian's shaft. The young man's cock began twitching and jerking, preparing to launch his wad. Frantically, Brian
shoved and pulled with his hips, slamming his shaft unmercifully into Justin. His jaw was clenched as he let out a
grunt. His whole body convulsed with heaves as he shot spunk, erupting through his dick again and again in
ecstasies that almost drove Brian out of his mind. Justin soon followed. Wracked with spasms his load burst free, the
white sticky jizz spattering over his and Brian's chests.

Exhausted, Brian collapsed on top of Justin. He stayed that way until his heart stopped thudding and his breathing
became more controlled, then he slowly pulled himself out of the young man. He rolled onto his back and looked
over at Justin.

"That was incredible," Justin whispered.

"I always save the best for you," Brian reached over and caressed his cheek.

Justin kissed him, then rested his head on his shoulder and draped his arm over his chest. "How did you know where
I was tonight?"

"I saw you leave Woody's with Emmett," he admitted. "Arm in arm."

"You were jealous," Justin smiled.

"Not true," Brian said flatly.

"We were watching porn," he brought up. "Getting fuckin horny. Wanting to suck each other off."

"Did you?" he asked as calmly as he could.

Justin felt Brian's muscles become tense.

"Would you care if we did fuck?" Justin asked.

"No."

"Liar. You care."

"Shut the fuck up," he growled.

"You want me all to yourself. Deny it all you want, but I'm onto you," Justin relished.

"Shut the fuck up," he said sternly as he slapped the young man gently on the cheek.

"You love me, Brian Kinney," he whispered.

Brian grit his teeth. He knew one more `Shut the fuck up' would instigate Justin into another one of his ridiculous
comments. He stared at the ceiling, trying to block out the thoughts of that evening that rolled over and over in his
mind. Jealousy and possession were not words in his vocabulary, and he'd deny it until the day he died.

Justin drifted off into a restful sleep. Brian lost the struggle to keep his eyes open. The last thought he had before he
surrendered to sleep was how good it felt to have the warmth of Justin's body against his own.

Nautical Misunderstandings

Summary: A misunderstanding complicated by Brian's past, leads to significant problems between Justin and Brian.
References to Leopard and Lace.

Justin's excitement intensified as the elevator climbed to the top floor. The message that Brian had left for him at the
diner had him tingling from head to toe. He loved surprises and Brian's were always the best. It was the creativity,
one of the many things Justin loved about Brian. He could turn ordinary everyday experiences into the most sexually
exciting moments that it made Justin dizzy just thinking about it. He couldn't imagine what Brian had in store for
him this time.

Justin lifted the elevator door and fumbled for the key. Once he gained entry into the loft and reset the alarm system,
he spotted a package sitting on the counter. Actually there were two packages. He shrugged off his jacket and draped
it over the chair, taking his time so as to heighten his anticipation.

He decided to open the shirt box first. Justin ran his hands across the top of the smooth box then slid his fingers
down the sides. He gently lifted the lid. His brow furrowed as he examined the clothing.

"This can't be right," Justin said aloud.

He pried the lid off the round box next to it and peered inside.

"No," he shook his head. "Brian can't be serious."

He grabbed the telephone and dialed the ad exec's office. "Cynthia. This is Justin. Is Brian available? . . . Oh. When
will the meeting be over? . . . No. Nothing important. Just tell him I'll be waiting for him when he gets home.
Thanks."

Justin set the phone on the cradle and stared at the contents of the boxes. After the escapade at Emmett's apartment
and the warning Brian gave him, this surprise surpassed anything he expected. He picked up the phone and dialed
the diner.

"This is Justin. Let me speak to Sal. . . . Sal, tell me again about the message Brian left for me."

"Hon, I'm busy. I've got orders backed up a mile high," Sal's voice was tinged with irritation.

"Please. It's important," he pleaded.

"Okay, hon. Let's see. He said to come to his loft after work. He's leaving you a package. You'd know what to do
with it."

"That's all?"

"Darling, don't tell me you don't know what to do with it," Sal said. "Okay. What is it? I'll give you a quick lesson."

"I know what to do with it. I'm just shocked," Justin admitted.

"Sweetheart, if it isn't anything that's going to cause you bodily harm, then go for it," Sal advise. "A little kink won't
hurt, and you'll end up enjoying yourself. Now go have some fun and let me get back to business."

Justin sighed. Brian must be on some sailor fantasy after seeing Anchors Aweigh the other night. He kept calling the
teen his Sailor Boy and used "naughty" Nautical terms, leaving them both in giggling fits. After the casual teasing
they ended up fucking all night. Justin mentioned the idea of sailor hats, but he didn't think Brain was paying
attention.

Still the warning he gave the last time Justin was in the dress up mood with Emmett left a profound impression on
the young man. Brian was dead serious. He didn't want it happening again. So what did all of this mean? Was he
forgiven? Was Brian really turned on by the sexy leopard skirt and the lacy thong underwear?

"Whatever," Justin grabbed the boxes and set off for the bedroom.

He planned on following Brian's instructions. One thing he learned--never disappoint Brian.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justin grimaced as he applied the mascara. He didn't know how Emmett did it. The make-up was the worst part. He
should have paid better attention when Emmett was doing him up, but everything about that evening was
overwhelming. Justin didn't like being in drag. It felt odd. The only reason he was doing this was because Brian
made the request. Hell, he even put the entire make-up case in with the wig. He blinked a few times, trying to get
use to the feel of the mascara then found the lipstick brush. Justin looked over his choices of lipstick shades. He
didn't have a clue. If he'd been smart, he'd have gotten Emmett to come over to help him. It was too late now. Brian
would be home shortly. Going for the pink shade, Justin smoothed the creamy lipstick over his lips. He pulled the
blonde curly wig over his head, added the white sailor cap, then stepped back to see the final results.

The blue sailor suit enhanced his baby blue eyes. The skirt was just as short as the other skirt and the mid-drif top
was tight. Brian was serious about his C-cup comment. The padded bra included in the box made him look as chesty
as Lindsay. Justin was glad he remembered how to put on the nylons. They were tricky and uncomfortable, but he
could put up with them for one night. He slipped on the high heels.

"Jesus," he grabbed the bathroom counter to balance himself. "How the fuck do girls stand these things."

"Beats me."

Justin turned quickly, startled by the voice. Losing his balance he landed flat on his ass. "Fuck! Damn it, Michael!"

"Ah, shit. I didn't mean to scare you," he laughed, holding out his hand. "What are you doing?"

Justin's face turned beat red. "It's not my idea." He struggled to stand up. "Fucking shoes. I'm going to twist an
ankle."

"Whose idea is it?"

"Brian's! He left a message at the diner that he wanted me to come over. He left a package for me. Said I'd know
what to do with it."

Michael stared at him.

Justin shrugged his shoulders. "What?"

"That's not the package. That was left for me," he explained.

"What?" Justin's eyes grew big.

"Brian did me a favor. That's a present for Emmett. I wanted to get him something special for the Drag Queen
contest at Babylon," Michael explained.

"Fuck," his mouth dropped open. He heart started pounding at record speed. "Michael! I'm so fucked! Help me get
out of this." He pulled the shoes off.

"It's okay, Justin," Michael said. "No harm done. You didn't ruin it."

"No! You don't understand," he said.

"Really. It's okay," he smiled. "You look cute in drag."

Justin looked down at himself. He didn't want to hear this. He opened his mouth to say something when Brian
appeared behind Michael.

"What the fuck did I tell you about that?" Brian growled.

Michael jumped. "Christ! When did you get here?"

Brian pushed past his best friend and grabbed Justin by the arm. "Did you think I wasn't serious?"

Justin swallowed hard. He'd never seen Brian this angry before. He was even angrier than the time his loft was
robbed because of Justin's carelessness.

"You get out of this outfit," Brian pulled the blonde wig off Justin's head, then firmly took his jaw. "And wash this
shit off your face."

He released the young man with a slight shove. Justin gripped the counter to avoid crashing to the floor.

"Jesus, Brian! Take it easy," Michael yelled.

Brian stormed into the bedroom, leaving a shaken Justin behind.

"Are you okay?" Michael asked.

Justin unbuttoned the shirt.

"Justin," Michael repeated. "Are you okay?"

"No," he admitted. "Please, get out so I can change."

"Yeah. Sure," he hesitated, not knowing what else to say.

Justin waited until the door closed then the composure he fought so desperately to keep intact unraveled. Tears
slowly found their way down his cheeks as he cried softly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brian poured himself a glass of Jim Beam. He'd already shed his work clothes and now was comfortably clothed in a
pair of jeans and tank top.

Michael came up beside him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Stay out of it," Brian warned.

"Justin didn't ruin anything. He didn't know the sailor's outfit was for Emmett."

"Shut the fuck up!" he punctuated each word, his face just inches from Michael's.

Justin emerged from the bedroom with the boxes. Without saying a word he placed them on the counter, grabbed his
jacket and headed straight for the door.

"Where the Hell are you going?" Brian bellowed, following close behind him.

"Home," he yelled back.

Brian's hand closed over his when Justin had the door partly open.

"No. You're not," he said, forcing it shut.

Michael stood off to the side near the couch. He felt uncomfortable in this situation. Brian was being an ass. Justin
was obviously hurt. And here he was caught in the middle.

"I don't have to stay here and take your shit," Justin said in a low voice. "It's bad enough Michael walked in on this. I
was fucking embarrassed as it was. You didn't have to humiliate me in front of him."

"Then stop being a closet Drag Princess!" Brian smirked.

Justin shook his head in disbelief. "You think I like doing that? I told you I didn't! I couldn't fucking believe it when
I saw those packages sitting there! I thought you lost your fucking mind!" He turned away.

Brian slid the door shut.

"I called your office. Cynthia said you were in a fucking meeting! I called Sal at the diner and asked him once again
what you said. You left me a package. I'd know what to do with it. What else do you do with a sailor suit and wig?
Water it and watch it grow like a Chia plant? So I put it on because I thought that's what you wanted!"

"You opened the wrong package!" Brian glared at him.

"There isn't any other package!" Justin snapped back.

Brian took Justin by the arm and led him toward the bedroom. "I said the package was on the bureau. Even if that
piece of information didn't get passed on you should have known you had the wrong package when you saw the wig
and skirt!"

He stood Justin in front of the bureau.

"What the fuck do you call that!" Brian slammed his hand into the large box, leaving a dent in it.

Justin bit his lip, rigidly keeping his tears in check. He wasn't some little faggot.

"Brian," Michael intervened. "Take it easy."

"You had your girlie dress-up fun with Emmett," Brian told Justin.

"Dress-up fun?" Michael looked puzzled.

"We discussed this, Justin," Brian said firmly. "I told you never again. What the fuck did you think? That I wasn't
serious? Do you get into this girlie shit that much?"

Justin swallowed hard.

"Jesus, Brian!" Michael interrupted. "Listen to yourself! You sound just like your--"

"Shut the fuck up!" Brian snapped, swinging around to face Michael. "Don't fucking say it!"

"You need to calm down," Michael pulled him aside.

Justin leaned against the bureau and stared at a spot on the floor. He could feel his face burning as his humiliation
and embarrassment deepened. The sudden desire to escape consumed him. Everything had turned from bad to worse
within a matter of seconds, and he couldn't handle it anymore. The evening was already a disaster. There was no
chance of recouping anything. All he wanted to do was leave.

"Don't do this," Michael held Brian securely by the shoulders. "Don't make this about you."

Brian shook his head, bewildered. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Justin moved down the platform stairs and across the living room to the loft door. He looked over his shoulder. The
two men were still deep in conversation. He grabbed his backpack sitting by the counter and slipped out the door.

"How you're treating Justin," Michael said.

"Mind your own business, Mikey," Brian snarled. "You don't have a fucking clue about anything."

"Don't give me that shit! I know what this is about!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Brian seethed with anger. He turned to face Justin, but found the teen wasn't where he left him.
"Justin!" He stepped down into the living room. "Justin!"

Michael followed him. "He probably left. I can't blame him."

Brian searched for the backpack that was sitting by the counter. It wasn't there. "Fuck! It's your fault, Mikey! If you
hadn't distracted me, Justin wouldn't have left!"

"It's probably a good thing he did. You need to get your fucking act together, Brian! You came down on him pretty
hard," Michael reproved. "Justin didn't do anything wrong and you know it! This has to do with you. Face it!"

Brian grabbed the bottle of whisky he left on the counter and took a swig. "Fuck you, Michael!"

"That's great, Brian. That's just great," he gathered up the packages intended for Emmett. "I'm going to deliver these
to Emmett, then we're going to Woody's like we planned. You do whatever the fuck you want to do."

Brian was speechless as Michael left the loft. He pulled out a small vial of fine white powder and rolled it between
his fingers.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vic heard the front door slam and the familiar sound of feet landing heavily on each step of the staircase. A bedroom
door shut with a thwack. Vic threw down the dishrag and headed up the stairs.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justin kicked off his sneakers and wrestled to get out of his sweat jacket. "Fuck! Fuck!" He freed his arm by pulling
the sleeve inside out. He threw the jacket on the floor. Justin stood still for moment with his eyes closed. "Fuck," he
whispered.

He fucked up again. What was supposed to be an evening of fun filled excitement and all night fucking ended up
being spoiled because he didn't think.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Justin pressed his palms against his eyes as he shuffled his way to the bed.

He crawled on top of the covers and pulled his pillow to his chest. Brian would forgive him. Maybe not today or
tomorrow or the next day. Maybe not for the rest of the week. But he'd come around. He always did.

The rap on the door pulled him out of his thoughts. "Yeah?" Justin called out.

"Mind if I come in?" Vic said.

"No," he sighed.

Vic recognized the all too familiar sad tone that crept into the boy's voice when something had gone wrong between
Brian and him. "I thought you were spending the night with Brian."

"Change of plans," he shrugged.

Vic sat down at the end of the bed. "One of the infamous Brian Kinney bad moods?"

"Wasn't in one until I fucked up," Justin said sullenly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about. I made him mad. There's no one to blame but me. I did something stupid."

"So it's all your fault," Vic was unconvinced.

"I'm to blame! I did something Brian told me not to do," Justin defended his position. "Even if I didn't mean to. I
misunderstood something. That's all."

"So what are you going to do about it?" he questioned.

"Nothing. There's nothing I can do. I fucked up. The damage is done."

"What are you saying?" Vic asked. "It's over between you two?"

"There's nothing to be over. We're not boyfriends," Justin said adamantly.

"Could have fooled me," he laughed. "What are you then?"

"I don't know. Single. We're single," he said flippantly, remembering the answer that Brian always throws in his
face.

Vic gave him "the look" that Debbie often gave him. At that moment he wasn't sure if they learned it from their
mother or from each other. Justin hated "the look."

"I don't know what we are!" Justin admitted. "Brian doesn't commit. He doesn't believe in love or boyfriends or
relationships. I'm a backup plan. A convenience. His boy-toy. The trick that never went away. Call me whatever you
want." His voice trailed off.

Vic hated when Justin sunk into his self-deprecating mode. "Brian really hurt you tonight."

"I brought it on myself." His eyes became teary.

"Justin, you are more to Brian than a backup plan or boy-toy or a trick that never went away even if he won't admit
it. You are in a relationship with him. Whatever the misunderstanding was, the two of you need to talk it out."

"I can't talk to him when he's mad."

"Then when he calms down. Don't let a misunderstanding come between you two," Vic advised. "And more
importantly, stick up for yourself. Don't let Brian walk all over you. I know you love him, but don't compromise
yourself for him."

"I'm not," Justin said in small voice.

"Really?" the older man raised his eyebrows questioningly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hands-caressing, roaming, exploring. Mouths-kissing, sucking, eating. Brian threw back his head and let his body
take over. All he wanted was to escape and sex on top of a hit of E was the best way. He let his body take over. That
was the best thing about The Baths. Everyone was there for the same thing: sex. No faces. No names. No
connections. Just bodies taking in sensations. Now all Brian had to do was blank out his mind to make the escape
complete. He needed to make it all go away. His fucking father. Mikey and his stupid accusations. The sight of
Justin in that blonde wig and sailor dress. The lipstick on his pouty lips. His fucking asshole father.

"Fuck!" Brian pushed away from the men who were pawing him and made his way to the rooms where the orgies
were taking place.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Close your eyes," Emmett yelled from the bedroom. "And no peeking!"

"Don't be so fucking dramatic," Ted grumbled.

"Such a sour puss," Emmett declared.

"When has Em not been a Drama Queen," Michael laughed. "Okay, eyes closed. Strike a pose."

"Teddy?" Emmett checked to be sure.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ted covered his eyes. "Strike a pose. Get it over with."

Emmet stepped out, adjusted his sailor hat and skirt, then leaned forward every so slightly and placed his hands in
prayer position under his chin. "Ready!"

"Wow!" Michael smiled. "You look fabulous!"

Ted grinned. "You did it again, my friend. No doubt about it. You're going to be crowned Babylon's Drag Queen."

"Goody," Emmett clapped his hands.

"What have you decided to sing?" Michael asked.

"It's a toss between Honey Bun and I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair." Emmet wiggled his hips as he
took baby steps over to the couch.

"That skirts a little on the tight side," Ted remarked.

"It accentuates my ass. My mother always told me to me to find my best feature and play it for all its worth,"
Emmett turned around and stuck out his buttocks.

"And you play it well," Michael said. "You should have seen Justin in that outfit. His ass looked mighty fine in that
tight skirt."

"Justin?" Ted's eyes grew wide. "With that bubble butt I'm sure it did. When did he have it on?"

"When I went to pick it up. He was in full drag. Make-up. Wig. Everything right down to the stockings and shoes.
Talk about sexy! Good thing he's not in that contest, Em. He'd give you a run for your money," Michael asserted.

Emmet felt his muscles tighten and his anxiety level rise. "Wh-where did you see the boy in drag?"

"At Brian's," he answered. "I went to pick up the outfit and Justin thought Brian left it for him. So he went ahead and
got all dolled up. He was surprised and a little embarrassed to see me."

"I bet!" Ted chuckled.

"Did Brian see him?" Emmett inquired.

"Oh yeah. And it wasn't pretty. He blew a gasket," Michael became serious.

"How bad?" Ted had seen Brian's temper flare before. He'd been on the receiving end of hurtful words that
penetrated deep.

"It got rough. Justin was hurt, but I think he knew it was coming," Michael said. "The minute he found out that
package was for Emmett he couldn't get out of the clothes quick enough. But Brian came in before he could do
anything and all Hell broke loose."

"Fuck," Emmett whispered.

"What do you know about this?" Michael's brow furrowed.

"Nothing," Emmett tried to look as angelic as possible, remembering Brian's threat.

"Liar!" Michael accused. "Brian said something to Justin about having had his girlie dress-up fun with you. What
dress-up fun? What did you and Justin do that got Brian upset?"

"Brian dumped Justin one night. The boy was feeling bad so we had some fun," Emmett acted innocent.

"Holy shit, I know where this is leading," Ted snorted.

"Now!" Emmett daintily brushed back a few strands of blonde hair. "We didn't do anything wrong. We became
someone else for the night. I was helping the boy to get his mind off his heartache. How did I know Brian was going
to come over in a fit of jealous rage? Oops!"

"Fit of jealous rage? How intriguing. Do tell," Ted sat up straighter.

"Yes," Michael inched closer to Emmett. "Do tell."

Emmett stood up. "Can't say anymore. I'd like to keep my balls if you don't mind." He headed for the bedroom.
"Shall we go to Babylon? After I change, of course."

Ted raised his eyebrows at Michael. "How was Justin when you left?"

"He left before I did," Michael said. "He was really upset, Ted. He wouldn't have left unless he was."

"What's Brian's problem?" Ted grumbled. "He gets into the Drag Queen scene as much as the rest of us do. Shit! He
even helped to get that sailor get-up for Emmett and that wasn't an easy feat."

"It's complex," Michael said softly.

"Brian hasn't had a simple day in his life," Ted commented.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Justin lifted the waffles out of the iron and laid them on the plate. He padded over to the table and sat down heavily.
Vic waited for the boy to douse them in strawberries and canned whipped cream. All Justin did was rest his head on
a propped up hand and stare at the plate.

"Are you counting the squares in those waffles?" Vic asked.

"Huh?" Justin only heard squares and waffles.

Vic reached over and spooned some strawberries over the boy's waffles, then squirted a spiral of whipped cream on
top. "You're miserable. Call Brian."

Justin sighed. "No. He hates me."

"Brian Kinney is smitten with you," Vic smirked.

"Not any more," he plunged his fork into the whipped cream and made trails through it.

"This isn't the time to be a Drama Princess."

Justin screwed up his face and dropped his fork. "I'm not. You weren't there. You didn't see how angry he was with
me."

"Brian doesn't stay angry for long. Bat those baby blues, and he'll be putty in your hands. Whatever you did can't be
so bad that the two of you can't work it out," Vic said.

Justin pushed his plate away. "I can't eat this. I don't feel well."

"I'm sure you don't," Vic agreed. "It's called Lover's Cardio-Infractus"

"Not funny," Justin grumbled. "I'm serious. My head aches and my stomach's upset. I'm going to bed."

Justin shuffled toward the stairs.

"Hiding away in your bedroom is not the cure for Lover's Cardio-Infractus," Vic called after the boy. "Try I-C-K
instead."

Justin stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Huh?"

"I-C-K. It's been found to be a very effective treatment," the older man smiled.

"What is that?" Justin's curiosity was peaked.

Vic chucked softly to himself. "Ice Cream Kisses."

His mouth dropped open. "Brian told you?"

"It was a slip of the tongue," Vic teased. "Don't worry. It'll stay between the three of us. Just think of it as a gift two
young lovers gave an old man. Ah, I remember the days of ice cream kisses."

Justin became teary as he ascended the stairs.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As much as Justin wanted to call in sick to work, doing so would mean that Brian won. For some reason it mattered
to him that Brian saw that nothing of the previous night had bothered him in the least bit. He had gone on with his
life. Hey, Brian hadn't called him all day. He obviously didn't care anymore. They weren't boyfriends. They weren't .
. . He didn't know what they were.

Justin shoved the dirty dishes into the plastic basin a little too hard, forcing pieces of silverware to crash to the floor.
"Nothing. We're nothing," he grumbled under his breath as he crouched down to retrieve them.

Four pairs of feet gathered around him as he reached for the last fork hiding behind the table post. Justin quickly got
to his feet.

"Hey, Boy Wonder," Michael greeted him.

"Hi, baby," Emmett smiled.

Ted was at his elbow. "Maybe we should wait for another booth."

Justin could feel Brian's presence behind him.

"There isn't one. This place is packed," Emmett scanned the diner. "Justin will have it ready in a few minutes."

"I need to get rid of these," Justin said as he grabbed the basin of dirty dishes, "then I'll wash it down. I'll be right
back."

Justin walked away without turning toward Brian. He didn't want to make eye contact. Brian hadn't said a word, but
he could feel his eyes on him as he crossed the floor to the kitchen.

The guys slid into the booth, assuming their regular seating positions when Justin returned with a dishrag and
disinfectant spray.

"Did animals sit at this booth?" Ted questioned.

"Just about," Justin forced a laugh.

Michael searched Brian's face for any hint that his anger toward Justin had passed, but the Kinney deadpan face
gave no clue.

"This should do it," Justin sprayed down the table after he wiped it.

"My, my! You have him trained well," Emmett directed to Ted.

"Wasn't me, but it's a good idea. It's flu season," Ted brought up.

"It's part of the health and safety regulations," Justin said.

"Since when?" Michael asked.

"The diner was due for an inspection so I went on the net and got the updated regulations," Justin explained. "Then
Sal, your mom, and I went over everything in the diner with a fine tooth comb to make sure we were up-to-date.
We're going for a perfect rating."

"Good thing you're not going for a perfect rating on the service," Brian quipped. "Would you bring us some water?"

"Huh?" Hearing Brian's voice caught Justin off guard.

"Did you lose your hearing from listening to your own chatter? Bring us some water," Brian said in a low firm
voice.

"Ah, sure," Justin glanced at Michael before leaving.

Emmett waited until Justin was out of earshot before speaking. "Perhaps a Justin dessert would get rid of those
uglies. Your attitude is a bit wearing."

"Shut the fuck up," Brian growled.

Deb approached the booth and dropped the menus on the table. "Hi, boys. Baby." She kissed Michael on the cheek.
"This place is eye-candy tonight. I haven't seen so many pretty boys dress these booths since last year's Drag Queen
contest," Deb snorted looking around the diner.

"Please, Deb!" Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Baby, no one holds a candle to you," Deb assured him.

"Ma, he already has a swelled head," Michael complained.

"I do not," Emmett slapped Michael's shoulder.

"He can't even decide what number he's going to sing," Ted said.

"Well good. It will spare everyone from hearing his twangy voice," Brian snipped.

"What has you in such a good mood?" Deb asked sarcastically.

"Here's your water," Justin set the glasses down. "I'll get you some silverware."

Ted, Emmett, and Michael gave a slight nod toward Justin. Deb picked up quickly.

"So Em, honey. How are you deciding on which number you're going to sing?" Deb asked. "The contest is in four
days."

Justin returned with the silverware packages and napkins. He half listened to the conversation while trying to keep
his composure in front of Brian. He didn't want to let on that Brian's silence was getting to him.

"I have both numbers perfectly rehearsed," Emmett announced. "It's just a matter of choosing which is the best one."

"Why don't you perform them for the boys tomorrow? Let them give you some feedback," Deb suggested.

"A mini performance! A fabulous idea!" Emmett perked up. "Two o'clock. You'll come, Justin?"

"Come? Where?" Justin asked.

"For fuck sake, Justin! Listen when people are talking to you!" Brian scolded.

"Fuck you, Brian!" Justin countered, then stormed off to the kitchen.

Deb glared at Brian. "What the fuck is wrong with you! Yelling at Sunshine like that! You can be such an asshole!
You apologize to that boy!"

All eyes were on Brian, condemning him for the insult he slung at Justin. He didn't know how it happened. The
words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. What was wrong with him? The answer was simple. He
was fucking miserable. But Brian couldn't admit that to Debbie or anyone else. The sight of Justin turned him inside
out. Of course the first glimpse he got of him was of his firm ass sticking out from the booth. How he loved that ass.
Brian wanted to run his hands over the young man's silky globes and spread his cheeks to reveal the asshole he
longed to lick and. . .

"Brian!" Deb said firmly.

"All right!" he scowled. "Get off my case!" Brian slid off the bench and sauntered down to the end of the counter
where an empty bar stool was waiting. He sat down heavily and waited for Justin to make his entrance. He couldn't
hide in the kitchen for the rest of the evening.

Deb came around the counter. "I'll get Justin. You be sincere or you'll answer to me, Brian Kinney."

"I get it," he couldn't curb the tone of annoyance that crept out.

Deb gave him "the look." He cringed. That "look" always bore a little too deep inside him. His mother had a "look,"
but for some reason he could deflect it. She had no power over him. Deb, on the other hand, had a way of knowing
what went on inside his head ever since the day he sat down at her kitchen table at the age of fourteen. Brian hated
that even though, secretly, he liked being mothered.

Brian slowly pulled a napkin out of the dispenser while he waited. No apologies. No excuses. No regrets. Fuck!
Brian let out a heavy sigh. He hated what Justin did to him. How Justin made him feel. How Justin made him break

all the Kinney rules that made life uncomplicated. Brian gave the napkin a sharp tug from both sides pulling the
napkin apart.

A white aproned body appeared before him. "Deb said you wanted to see me."

Brian looked up at the young man. Justin's creamy complexion framed by his golden locks, piercing baby blue eyes,
and luscious full lips tempted him to grab the young man and devour his mouth.

"When do you get off work?"

"What do you care?" Justin tried to make his voice devoid of any emotion.

"I asked didn't I?" Brian was going to remain calm despite the young man's game.

"Eleven," he answered flatly.

"Going to Babylon?"

"No," Justin shook his head.

"Why not?" Brian asked nonchalantly.

"I don't feel like watching you dance with other guys or see you go off to the backroom to fuck with your tricks or
end up having Ted give me a ride home because you found someone hotter than me," Justin's voice rose with anger.
"Obviously, you're not done punishing me. I'm not your fucking emotional punching bag! It was a
misunderstanding. Sorry is bullshit to you so there's no sense in apologizing," Justin walked away.

Brian pushed his tongue into his cheek. He wasn't going to make this easy, and Brian wasn't in any mood for games.

"Fuck this shit," Brian slid off the stool and headed for the door.

Michael followed him out into the street. "Brian."

"What now?" he searched his pockets for a pack of cigarettes and matches.

"What happened?" Michael asked.

"I'm going to Babylon. I'll meet you there," Brian lit up and took a long drag.

"What are you going to do about Justin?"

"Nothing. The little shit is impossible. He gets in these moods, and you can't do anything with him," Brian let out a
series of smoke rings.

"Oh right. Like you've never been in a mood!" Michael scoffed.

Brian scowled. "Stay out of this, Mikey. Justin's being a Drama Princess. Let him have his little teenage tantrum. I
don't have time for games." He headed down the street.

"Brian!" Michael shouted after him. "Brian!"

His friend kept walking.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, where did Mr. Grumpy go?" Emmett finally asked while he placed a tip on the table.

"Babylon. He'll meet us later," Michael answered.

"Well I, for one am keeping my distance," Ted said. "When he's in the best of moods he's a first class asshole. When
he's in a shit-ass mood he goes off the fucking bastard scale."

"My guess is he'll be in the backroom most of the night," Emmett glanced at his watch. "We should get going."

Michael kept looking toward the kitchen for Justin. He was sure the teen's shift had ended. "I'll catch up with you
guys. I want to talk with Justin first."

"Bring the boy along. He could use some fun," Emmett said. "I'll find a cute twink for him. That will take his mind
off Brian."

"I'll see what I can do," Michael said.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Ma," Michael sat down on a stool near the register.

"Hi, sweetie," she gave him a kiss and hug. "You're not going with Ted and Emmett?"

"I'll wait and walk over with Justin," Michael said.

"That's sweet of you, baby, but Justin isn't going to Babylon tonight."

"Can't blame him," he said softly.

"Michael, do you know what's going on between Justin and Brian? Sunshine came home all upset last night. He
wouldn't tell Vic or me what was wrong. All he said was that he made Brian mad and it was all his fault. My guess
is that it's all Brian's fault. He can be such a prick," Deb placed her hand on her hip.

"Brian over-reacted to something that happened," Michael sought to appease his mother without breaking either
Brian or Justin's confidence.

"Brian needs to stop making mountains out of mole hills," Deb stated. "He's making Sunshine miserable. The poor
boy couldn't even eat breakfast this morning."

Michael chuckled softly. "Don't think you have to worry. The way he packs away food he'll make up for it."

"It's not funny, Michael," she looked at him sternly.

"I know," he nodded.

Justin came out of the kitchen wearing his jacket and hat. He slipped on his gloves. "See you at home, Deb."

"Okay, baby," she smiled. "Be careful out there."

Justin's eyes met Michael's. He didn't say a word.

"Mind if I walk with you?" Michael asked.

Justin shrugged. "Thought you were going to Babylon."

"It can wait." He zipped up his jacket and pulled on his hat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael and Justin walked in silence down Liberty Avenue in the opposite direction from Babylon. The street was
crowded like it always was on a Saturday night. Colorful people dressed in various styles that you could find
nowhere else in Pittsburgh. Comfortable. It was comfortable to walk down this street on any other night except this
night.

Michael battled with himself over how much he should confide in the teen. The secrets he had with Brian were
sacred. They were to be kept from womb to tomb. Yet a part of him felt that this one secret he should share with
Justin. Maybe then the teen would understand why Brian was so angry. Then again his friend would get over all of
this in a matter of days. As long as Justin abided by the rule he set down to never be in drag, he'd be okay. However,
Michael wasn't all that sure if Justin liked being in drag or not. Judging by Brian's over-reaction, he had to be sure.
He glanced at Justin. The teen looked terribly unhappy. Since day one, Michael had noticed that the kid wore his
emotions on his face. He couldn't hide them no matter how much he tried.

Justin became entranced with the superstition of not stepping on the crack or you'll break your mother's back;
therefore, he unconsciously was placing his steps carefully between the cracks in the sidewalk. His mind was blank,
giving him relief from the anguish he felt.

They turned down a side street leaving the crowded avenue behind. Michael knew the route so well that his body
was on automatic. He didn't have to think. Sometimes he did it so mindlessly that he'd find himself standing on the
front steps of his house wondering how he got there. Michael glanced over at Justin again, wondering if the teen had
gotten to that point as well. He looked away to gather his thoughts before beginning.

"It wasn't your fault," Michael opened the conversation.

Justin swallowed hard. "Brain told me that he didn't want me in drag. I should have known better. He was right."

"Justin, it has nothing to do with you," he insisted.

"How can you say that? You saw him!" Justin was astonished. "Michael, I don't even like being in drag. It's not for
me. Emmett might enjoy doing it. But it feels weird to me. I only tried it once when I was at Emmett's. It's not
something I do all the time. I swear."

"Whoa! Justin, you don't have to explain anything to me. If you like or not, it's none of my business. The fact is,
how Brian reacted had nothing to do with you. He was in the wrong, not you."

They turned down another side street leading to the childhood home that Michael knew so well and Justin had
learned to call his own.

"Shit," Michael whispered. He stopped to face Justin.

"What?" Justin asked.

"You've got to promise me something, Justin. That what I'm about to tell you never goes beyond us. You can never
tell a living soul."

"Sounds serious," Justin said.

"It is. Especially don't tell Brian. I mean it. If you want the both of us to be walking around with our male genitalia,
then keep this between us."

"Maybe I don't want to hear this. Sounds too risky," he started walking at a quick pace.

"No. You need to hear this," Michael caught up to him. "It's why Brian reacted the way he did."

"It's about Brian?" Justin asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "But you have to swear this stays between us. No one knows about this. Not even Ma."

"All right already. I swear," he stopped at the walkway in front of the Novotny home.

"Let's sit down," Michael gestured toward the front steps.

Once the two were seated a wave of anxiety swept through Michael, but there was no turning back now. He'd
already put the ball in motion, so he had to see it through. Justin loved Brian. That much he knew for sure. No one
would put up with Brian Kinney's moods unless he did.

Michael picked up a twig and poked it at the step. "Brian's dad drank a lot, and he was quite brutal. Well, abusive
would be the proper term."

"I know that," Justin said.

"Bear with me," he took a breath and let it out slowly. "Brian was supposed to help me with my homework. So I
went over to his house. His dad answered the door . . .

. . . Hi, Mr. Kinney. Is Brian here?"

He leaned close, within inches of Michael's face. "He's in his room."

The heavy odor of alcohol slapped the boy in the face. "Um, Brian's helping me with my homework," he winced.

"Go on up," Jack lifted the beer and took a swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Michael ran up the stairs. He hated when Brian's father drank. The man was loud and rough. . . and mean. If Brian
hadn't been grounded, they could have been doing homework at his house. Damn Brian for skipping school the
previous day! Michael tried to persuade him not to do it, but at the last minute his friend snuck out of the building
right after fifth period class.

"Behave yourselves! No fooling around like a bunch of girls!" Jack bellowed after him.

"Bunch of girls?" Michael whispered. He walked quietly down the hall to Brian's bedroom. Suddenly Claire's
bedroom door opened.

"Shit," Michael whispered.

Claire was more than an annoyance. She was a down right pain in the ass.

"Michael," Claire spoke in a soft voice. "You tell Brian that he better not ruin my things! And he owes me a
lipstick!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he whispered back.

"Michael!"

"What?" he turned around and glared at her.

Her voice took on a compassionate tone which was so unlike Claire. "Daddy was really mad."

Michael's anxiety grew two-fold. 'Ah shit. He must have really beat up bad on Brian,' he thought to himself.

Brian's bedroom door was closed. He rapped on it lightly. "Brian, it's me. Michael."

He pushed the door open slowly and walked in, stopping short when he saw his friend sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Holy shit!" Michael exclaimed.

"Don't you fucking laugh!" Brian warmed, hurt and anger seething from his eyes.

"I-I wouldn't," he said. "What the fuck happened?"

Brian looked away as Michael took a seat beside him. "Nothing. My father's just being an asshole drunk again."

"But why this?" he touched the pink pleated skirt.

"His idea of a sick joke," Brian said angrily.

"Can't help but lie! Can you?" Jack pointed a finger at his son.

Both boys jumped at the sound of his voice. Neither one knew that his father was standing there.

"Well? Tell Michael the truth, BriANNA," Jack snickered. "That's what we're calling the girlie now, Michael.
BriANNA. Since he wants to be a girl so bad." He gestured with a limp wrist. "He makes a lovely girlie, don't you
think?"

Michael cringed, feeling his friend's humiliation. He couldn't look at Brian. If he did, it would make things worse.
Every horrible, bad thing Brian felt would be doubled.

"Pretty in pink," Jack continued his taunting. "Stand up, boy."

Brian slowly rose to his feet.

"Like this blouse, Michael? It goes with the skirt. The Mrs. found it at this posh department store. Nothing but the
best for our little Claire. God damn fucking thing cost me my gambling winnings! But what the fuck! Pretty
embroidered pink flowers and lace on the collar. Pink skirt. Pink looks good on Claire. Her being blonde, you
know," he pushed his hand against Brian's chest and laughed. "But I say it's looks even prettier on our little
BriANNA. He might not be blonde, but he sure does like 'em blonde! Probably shoulda got you a blonde wig."

Brian turned his face away.

"What's this?" Jack grabbed him by the jaw, turning his face toward him.

His son flinched.

"It's worn off! Go put more on. Now!" he yelled, pushing him back with a shove.

Brian fell back onto the bed.

Michael started to reach out to him, when his friend shook his head. Any interference might cause more harm than
good. Michael closed his eyes briefly and made a wish, 'Go away, Mr. Kinney. Leave us alone. Go away.'

"What's taking you so long?" Jack asked. He took a swig of his beer. "Show Michael how you put on your make-up,
BriANNA."

Michael looked completely baffled as Brian walked slowly to the full length mirror near his bureau. His friend
picked up a slender silver lipstick case and uncapped it. Staring down into the barrel, he turned the bottom until a
pink shade of lipstick appeared at the top.

"Daddy, he's gonna waste it!" Claire cried out.

"Get in your fucking room!" Jack yelled. "I'm not telling you again! I'll whip your ass 'til you can't sit down for a
week!"

Claire's sobs could be heard as her feet pounded on the floor all the way back to her room. The door slammed, then
reopened. "Sorry, Daddy. The door slipped," she choked out, then a soft click was heard.

Michael's feet were frozen to the floor. These were one of the moments when he was glad he didn't have a father. He
didn't know who his father was, but if the odds were fifty-fifty that he was going to be like Jack Kinney, he wasn't
going to lay down the father card.

"What are you waiting for?" Jack hit his son on the back.

Brian caught himself before careening into the mirror. He gasped, then quickly ran the lipstick over his lips.

Michael tried not let his friend know he was watching. It was bad enough he was being totally humiliated once again
in front of his best friend without being made the object curiosity. He couldn't help himself though. He was curious.
He wondered what it felt like. The lipstick looked silky. Michael snapped out it quickly at the sound of Jack's voice.

"You fucking like this?" Jack grabbed Brian by the jaw once again. "All this shit on your face? The girlie clothes?
You like being a girl? Have you had enough of your girlie fun? Or should I cut your fucking dick off?" He pushed
him against the mirror.

Brian's eyes grew wide with fear.

"Jack," Joan interrupted.

Michael exhaled. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath. He stared at Brian's mother.

"What?" Jack asked angrily.

"Larry is downstairs in the driveway beeping the horn," she answered in the most annoyed voice she could conjure
up.

"Poker night!" he sang out, releasing Brian. "I'm off!" He grabbed his beer off the bureau and headed toward the
door. He turned to his son before leaving, "Don't you fucking leave this room or get out of that outfit until bedtime!
You hear me?"

Brian nodded.

Joan stepped aside to allow her drunken husband to pass by. He grunted in recognition. She watched out of the
corner of her eye as he walked down the hallway, then descended the stairs.

Michael and Brian didn't move. Michael because he didn't know what to do. He was sure Brian didn't move because
he knew his mother all too well. The wrath of one parent was enough.

Joan spoke once she heard the front door slam. "Brian, leave Claire's clothes on for a half hour. Just in case your
father has forgotten something and returns. Then take them off. Be careful not to get any make-up on them. It's hard
to get it out in the wash. I paid dearly for that outfit, and it's one of Claire's favorites. I expect you to pay her for the
lipstick, and don't ever get in her make-up again," she turned to leave, then hesitated. "You brought this on yourself,
Brian. You have no one else to blame. How did you expect your father to react?" When her son didn't answer, she
looked sternly at his friend. "Michael."

"Uh, yes, Ma'am?" he answered.

"You'll have to find someone else to help you with your homework for the rest of the week. Brian will be busy
attending church with me in the evenings," she announced.

Brian pushed his tongue against his cheek and stared out the window. Michael watched as Mrs. Kinney shut the
bedroom door.

"Brian? You okay?" Michael whispered.

His friend shook his head.

Michael walked over to him and took his hand. "Come on," he led him back to the bed. "Sit down." He gently
pushed his friend down by the shoulders.

"I don't want to be a girl, Mikey. I wasn't putting on all of Claire's make-up. It was just her lipstick. I don't know
what happened," Brian said. "I saw it sitting there. It was all smooth and silver. All I did was open it. I thought. . . I
just put a little on. It was just a little. Then Dad. He saw me. He started calling me a sissy and. . . a faggot. . . a girl.
He. . . made me. . . put this on. I hate that fucking asshole."

Michael embraced his friend when he saw a tear slip down his cheek. All he could do was offer his best friend silent
reassurance . . .

. . . so, Justin, it wasn't you. Brian got caught up in bad memories and his dad," Michael said.

Justin screwed up his mouth as though he were in deep thought. He let out a breath. "Brian doesn't talk to his dad or
see him"

"Not very often. When he does, it doesn't go over well."

"His dad doesn't know he's gay," Justin stated.

"No," Michael shook his head.

"How can he not know?" he looked at him with disbelief.

"Just like your dad didn't know. He didn't want to."

"Did his father ever beat him?" Justin wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Michael nodded.

"Fuck." He fell silent.

Michael was always uncomfortable with silence except when it came to Brian. They didn't need words. Being in
each other's company was enough.

"It is me," Justin said. "Brian doesn't get mad at Emmett when he's in drag."

"It's not you, Justin," Michael emphasized again.

"Do you ever get in drag?" Justin asked.

"Sometimes. So does Ted. Usually for some party or event. It's all in fun."

"Does he ever get mad at you for being in drag? Or Ted?"

"No," Michael answered.

"Then why me? Michael! He was furious! It was worse than when I let his place get robbed. You saw him! You
heard what he said to me!" Justin looked at him for some explanation. Some reason to help him understand. He
quickly looked away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable over remembering all the ugliness and embarrassment he felt.
"Why did you have be there?"

"Justin," Michael's voice grew soft. "There was nothing wrong with being in drag."

"I didn't like it! I told you that. I told Brian! Why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"Calm down!" he said firmly. "I believe you. But there's nothing to be ashamed about. If you like being in drag or
not, it doesn't matter. Brian gets into the Drag Queen scene just as much as anyone else. He doesn't do drag, but he
likes the scene."

"Not me in it! He's not being fair!" Justin stood up. "It's not like I'm parading around in drag all the time! The first
time I was having fun with Emmett. It wasn't planned. This time it was a misunderstanding. I could give a fuck if I
ever dressed in drag again!"

"Justin--" Michael was on his feet. "It's different with you."

"Why should it be different? Brian lets you and everyone else get away with it. He reams me out. Brian's dad was an
asshole, but it doesn't excuse the way he treated me, Michael," Justin turned toward the door. "It's been a long night.
The diner was busy. I'm heading to bed."

"Yeah," Michael descended the steps. He heard the screen door open. "Justin."

"What?"

"What I told you about Brian. It stays between us. Don't say anything to him. And don't go blabbing it to Daphne."

"I'm not some fucking faggot tabloid," Justin growled. "I love him, Michael. I'm not going to hurt him by revealing
the little secrets you two share."

Michael buried his hands in his pockets as the door shut behind Justin. Ever since the Boy Wonder had entered their
lives he was a big complication. Brian's "I'll do anything, say anything, fuck anything: no excuses, no apologies, no
regrets" life style seemed to be crumbling. All because of the blonde twink. Justin was different. He wasn't like all
the other boys. He got to Brian.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yeah, lick it." Brian felt his dick harden in the trick's mouth. "Suck it." He steadied himself against the post in the
backroom of Babylon.

The raven-haired trick opened his mouth wide and let every inch slip inside. His long slippery tongue swirled in
liquid heat tantalizing a thousand nerve-endings. Brian closed his eyes as he was brought to orgasmic peak. Justin's
face flashed before him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brian peeked through the window. The kitchen light was on and he could make out Vic sitting at the table. He
rapped lightly on the glass pane and waited. Vic was bound to make some comment about his rude behavior of late
night visiting after determining that the Novotny clan was fine. No, there wasn't any crisis. No, he wasn't drunk or
stoned.

Brian scraped his shoe against the porch floor. Many years had passed since last he stood on this very porch in the
wee hours of the morning waiting to gain entrance to warmth and love held within the walls of the Novotny
residence. It had always been his second home. No, his first home. The Kinney house wasn't a home. It was room
and board; nothing more.

Vic pushed aside the curtains. Seeing it was Brian, he opened the door. "What are you doing here? Is Michael okay?
Deb?"

"They're fine. What about you? Are you doing okay? I mean . . . being up so late. You're not in pain or anything?"

"No. Couldn't sleep. Part of the curse of being old," Vic smirked. "Why are you here? Wait. Let me guess. Justin."

Brian raised his eyebrow.

"Christ, Brian. He's been asleep a couple of hours. Solve your lover's quarrel in the morning."

"Justin's temper tantrum has gone on long enough," Brian pushed past Vic. "I'm taking him back to the loft so we
can settle this once and for all."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brian pushed open the bedroom door and slipped into the darkened room. He blinked a few times, allowing his eyes
to adjust. The familiar sound of Justin's breathing filled the room as a body took form on the twin bed. Justin was
lying on his right side, turned away from where Brian was standing. The covers were draped across his body so only
a bare shoulder was showing.

Brian moved quietly around the bed and opened the blinds on a nearby window. The moonlight illuminated the
room. Brian stared down at the teen. Angelic was the only word that he could come up with to describe the sleeping
Justin. His porcelain soft features accentuated the ruby red lips, all framed by golden locks. Brian lowered himself to
the floor and gently caressed Justin's forehead, smoothing his thumb across the teen's temple.

"Justin," Brian said softly.

The teen moaned and licked his lips. Brian fought the urge to devour that mouth.

"Justin," he spoke louder. "Wake up."

"Brian," he sighed, opening his eyes a little then closing them.

"Shit. You sleep like a fucking rock. Justin, wake up," Brian jostled him.

"What?" he groaned, opening his eyes. The teen stared at Brian.

"Get dressed."

Justin furrowed his brow. "It's night time."

"I know," Brian said.

"You're sending me home? What did I do?" Justin asked sleepily, raising himself up.

"No. I'm taking you back to the loft with me," he clarified. "Will you wake the fuck up!"

Justin stared at him, then everything sank in and clarity took over. He glanced at the clock on his night stand. "What
the fuck are you doing here?"

"I told you. I'm taking you back to the loft."

"I'm not going," he scowled.

"Why not?"

"Because all we'll do is fight, then you'll send me home or banish me to the couch. Or you'll want to fuck me and
think that's going to solve everything."

Brian grit his teeth. The little shit wasn't making it easy. "Then we'll settle it here and now."

Justin lowered his head, speaking softly. "I'm not supposed to have tricks in my bedroom after twelve."

"What the fuck?" Brian got to his feet and walked to the door.

"Fuck you! Go! Nothing matters to you anyway. You never think about me. Go home. Go to Babylon. Go do
whatever you want!" Justin snarled.

Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek, gripping the doorknob tightly. He hated this fucking emotional tug-of-war game
that Justin played. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to care," he whispered.

His hand slipped from the doorknob. "I came here, didn't I?"

"Why are you so angry with me?" Justin whispered.

"I told you," Brian kept his back to the teen, not moving from his spot at the door. "I didn't want you in drag."

"Fine, Brian. I won't make that fucking mistake ever again. Just go." He pulled the covers over himself.

The hurt in Justin's voice raked over him. He'd come to settle this matter, yet nothing had been resolved. He had
choices. He could fuck it all and leave. But the fact was he wanted Justin in his bed. Brian let out a breath and turned
around to face the wounded teen buried under the blankets. He was beginning to feel a headache forming. Brian
sauntered over to the bed and sat down.

"I was wrong. I over-reacted," Brian admitted. "It was an honest mistake on your part. I had no right to get so angry
with you."

Justin heard the words. They were as close to an apology as Brian would ever give. However, it didn't explain
everything to his satisfaction. He turned over onto his back. Brian's hazel eyes were locked on his blue eyes.

"Were you mad that I was in drag or were you mad that I disobeyed you?"

"What kind of fucking question is that?" Brian growled.

"The way you acted, Brian. It was like I was your rotten kid who disobeyed you. Then you scolded me in front of
Michael. It was embarrassing and humiliating and mean." Justin dropped his eyes. "You've said things before. Mean
things. But it's been to protect yourself. To keep me at arm's length. This was different. You were being mean to hurt
me. I didn't like it, and I don't have to put up with it. I thought I meant something to you."

Brian's chest tightened. The conversation was becoming too emotional, too "relationship-ee" for his own comfort.
He stood up, ready to bolt.

Justin grabbed his hand. "Don't leave. Please."

"Justin," Brian hesitated. The warmth of the teen's hand felt good within his own. He felt their fingers entwine. It felt
natural and right. Anything physical with Justin felt right. He lowered himself to the bed. "I don't own you. I told
you that I didn't like you in drag. I asked you not to do it. I didn't order you. Last night I over-reacted. I was wrong.
That's the best I can do."

Justin's eyes became teary. He released his grip, but Brian didn't. Justin felt some reassurance. "Why is it me?"

Brian furrowed his brow. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Why do you get so angry when it's me in drag? You don't get all bent out shape when it's Emmett or Michael or
Ted or anyone else. I asked Michael."

"Yeah? What else did Mikey tell you?"

"Nothing. Just that he's been in drag before and you never got upset with him. So it has to be me. So why? Why is it
me?"

"Fuck!" Brian dropped Justin's hand to the bed and stood up. "Stop trying to get in my fucking head!"

"I'm not! I'm trying to understand why you hate me," Justin explained.

"I don't hate you," he punctuated each word as he leaned in close. "I don't know why it upsets me. It just does. Got
it?"

Justin nodded.

Brian paced the room. His head was pounding from all the tension. "What the fuck is the issue? Because I don't
know anymore, Justin. You wanted me to admit I treated you badly. I did. I was in the wrong. I hurt you. I can't take
that back. I can't promise you it won't happen again, because I'm bound to fuck up. I'm an asshole. You knew that
from the beginning. When it does happen again, I'll admit it. But don't you dare ask me to explain something that I
can't! You fucking want to be in drag, go right ahead. I'm not your keeper. I asked you not to, but I was wrong to ask
you do to that. I'll get used to it."

"That's not what I want!" Justin proclaimed. "I hate it."

"Then what the fuck do you want!" Brian growled.

The teen gasped. "I want you to hold me and tell me that everything's okay between us."

Brian took a seat on the bed and pulled Justin into his arms. The teen nestled his head on Brian's shoulder as he
wrapped his arms around the man's waist. Brian slid his arm up Justin's back and rested his hand against the nape of
his neck. He held him firmly. He breathed in the teen's sweet scent. The same sweetness that lingered on his own
pillows at the loft even after the cases had been removed and washed.

"I've missed you," Brian whispered.

Justin closed his eyes. "Everything's okay?"

"Yeah." He kissed the teen's neck, then turned the teen's face toward his. "Everything's okay."

Their eyes locked for a moment. The world ceased to exist as their lips met. Brian traced the soft fullness of Justin's
bottom lip with his tongue. The delicious sensation sent shivers of desire racing through him. He plunged his tongue

into the recesses of the teen's mouth which was matched with a gentle, savage harmony. Justin quivered at the slow
drugging kisses Brian followed it with and found himself growing weak in the man's arms.

Brian leaned his forehead against the teen's. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Justin managed to answer. "Stay with me."

Brian toed off his shoes and removed his jacket, then lay down beside the teen. Justin snuggled in close, lying his
arm across Brian's chest. Safe in the older man's arms, Justin slipped into a deep sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Debbie stood before her brother with hands on her hips. "Well? Are you going to explain to me why Brian's jeep is
parked in front our house or am I going to have to cause a ruckus?"

"Now, sis," Vic took off his reading glasses. "It's not what you think. Brian came over to work out their lover's
quarrel."

"Bullshit! He came over to fuck Sunshine. I wasn't born yesterday."

"They were fighting a little while ago," he looked up at the ceiling. "It's been quiet for about twenty minutes."

"What are you? The CNN news?" Debbie quipped. "Justin knows the rules, and so does Brian. And so do you, Vic.
It's two thirty for Christ sake. You should have told Brian to come back in the morning."

"Love doesn't wait." Vic shrugged his shoulders.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deb rapped on the Justin's door. No answer. Not even a stir in the room. "Fuck this," she turned the knob and pushed
the door open. The light from the hallway cast a warm glow into the room.

Brian and Justin lie sound asleep in each other's arms. Brian, fully clothed, lay on top of the covers while Justin was
secure under layers of blankets.

"God damn fucking romantics," Deb whispered, wiping at her tears. "This time only. Break my own fucking rules."
She closed the door.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ted, Brian, Justin, and Michael leaned against the catwalk railing as Emmett accepted the Drag Queen of Babylon
Crown. He wowed the crowd with his musical number, and he looked fabulous in his blonde curls and nautical
attire.

"A thousand dollars richer and a trip to the Bahamas," Ted raised his beer. "That's one happy nellie queer."

"I still say you could have given Emmett a run for his crown, Justin," Michael grinned. "You made one sexy sailor
Drag Princess."

Justin glanced at Brian, then turned his attention to the dance floor.

"That would have crushed Emmett," Brian spoke up. "Being beaten by a twink. Especially Justin. Fuck! Justin's too
damn sexy in drag. Too pretty. He puts the whole drag scene to shame."

Michael's mouth dropped open.

"You mean it?" Justin asked.

"Fuck yes," Brian slipped his arm around Justin's waist. "Let's get out of here. I have a surprise waiting for you at
the loft."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brian placed a shirt box in Justin's hands. "Go ahead. Open it."

"Brian." He pulled his lower lip through his teeth.

"Go on," he encouraged as he pulled off his shirt.

Justin sat down on the bed. He carefully lifted off the lid and threw it off to the side. "Brian." His anxiety grew as he
removed a sailor's hat. "I don't want to go through this again."

"It's not what you think," Brian said as he sat down beside him.

Justin took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He removed a blue and white striped mid-drif sailor shirt, then a
pair of white leather sailor pants.

"Turn them around," Brian directed.

"Fuck!" Justin smiled at the sight. "No ass!"

"No. Your ass goes there. I want free access. Now go put them on, my sailor boy."

"Where's your outfit?"

"Don't worry. The captain of the ship is never unprepared," Brian kissed him, slowly, thoughtfully. "Hurry up."

Justin smiled and laughed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The loft was filled with music. Brian, dressed in black leather pants and a captain's hat, held his sailor boy in his
arms as they danced. Brian ground his hips into Justin's. The natural rhythm was as easy to find on the dance floor as
well as in bed.

"Brian, let's put in the Dirty Dancing CD," Justin suggested.

"It's the wrong theme, Sailor Boy." Brian's lips brushed against Justin's as he spoke.

The kiss sent spirals of ecstasy through him. "Please. I want us to do 'Love is Strange.' You like that. I know you do,
loverboy."

"We do that all that time. Don't you get tired of it?"

"No," Justin pouted. "Please."

"You're incorrigible." Brian released the teen.

Justin smiled like a Cheshire cat as he strolled over to the stereo. Brian kept his eyes on the teen's fine exposed ass in
the white leather pants.

"I could eat your ass right now," Brian commented.

Justin laughed as he hit the play button. Mickey and Sylvia's voices filled the loft. Justin slinked over to Brian and
wrapped his arms around his waist. He planted a tantalizing kiss on his lover's mouth then forced his lips open with
his thrusting tongue. Their bodies swayed to the music.

Parting the kiss, their eyes met and softly their voices met in harmony. "Your sweet loving is better than a kiss.
When you leave me sweet kisses I miss."

"Brian."

"Yes, Justin?"

"How do you call your loverboy?"

Brian smirked and pushed him away, then backed up toward the bedroom. "Come 'ere, loverboy!"

Justin crossed his arms, not moving. "And if he doesn't answer?"

"Ohh loverboy!" He coaxed him with his index finger.

"And if he STILL doesn't answer?" Justin made his way over to his lover.

Brian sat down on the end of the bed. "I simply say baby, Oohh baby, my sweet baby, you're the one." He inched his
way back on the bed.

Justin smiled, crawling on top of Brian.

They sang together. "Oohh baby, my sweet baby, you're the one."

Brian was the first to break out in laughter.

"You asshole!" Justin slapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey!" He slapped Justin on the ass. "I'm the captain of this ship. Now Sailor Boy, I order you to swab my cock with
your tongue!"

"Is that my punishment?" Justin's blue eyes twinkled.

"That's just the beginning." Brian ran his fingers down the crack of Justin's ass and pushed it gently against his
asshole.

"Mmmm, I like the idea of that, Captain." He reclaimed his lover's lips with a cruel ravishing kiss.

This was the kind of dress-up play that Justin loved.

END