Some background on the story:

Justin is 17 and is working at his aunt's hotel, Debbie Palace Hotel, during summer. His main job is to take care of the hotel's mini market, but he is basically doing everything else as well.

Brian is the son of the owner (Debbie) and cousin of Justin and is also working there fulltime as a manager of sorts.

Lindsay is Brian's best friend and receptionist at the hotel.

Michael is Brian's brother who is working there mainly as a bartender.

Debbie is also around, taking care of everything and everyone, as a good owner should do.

The whole story is from Justin's POV but I don't promise it will stay that way.

Oh and, by the way, it's based on a true story.

"Good morning Sunshine!" Justin looked at his aunt and responded to her ritualistic greeting with a smile. It was 9:30 am for god's sake; he wasn't about to start talking before 11. He is not a morning person.

"Hey, Justin, you need to run to the basement for the order that just came in." Lindsay, always at her post, always reliable, informed him about his chore without waiting for a reply. Justin liked Lindsay.

Justin didn't like mornings; especially those mornings. Summer mornings at the hotel. His favorite cousin was still fast asleep, recovering from his bartending services and wouldn't be up till after noon. Similarly, his other cousin, not his favorite in terms of personality and friendship, but definitely, absolutely, inarguably favorite in term of hotness, would not leave his room till after 11 am.

Morning passed quickly, what with deliveries being sorted, inventory in the mini market, fixing a toilet or two up in the rooms. The usual stuff. Justin tasted disappointment when his hot cousin, Brian, didn't make his appearance on his usual time. He was probably too exhausted from fucking that chick from 354. He's been fucking her every night for over week now, didn't he get enough already? During lunch, he casually mentioned him to Michael, his favorite cousin, to see if the other had any idea what Brian was up to all night.

"God knows what he's been doing all night" Michael couldn't be more indifferent.

"Or who." Crap. Justin shouldn't allow any bitterness to slip through his façade.

"That's right, who! Although I didn't notice him cornering any hot girl last night at the bar". That would be a first.

Later that day Justin was doing his homework at his usual place in the mini market. The day was still very hot and humid, and the view of the pool didn't help one bit in his attempt to focus on algebra. He was starting to get restless over Brian's absence. Sure, he always came down from his room late, but never after noon. Should he worry? Nah. He's a big boy. In many ways.

As he sat there, his mind drifted away from algebra and landed on its favorite subject: his crush on his cousin. Justin knew that it was probably moronic, sinful and pointless to experience sexual attraction towards his own cousin, but what could he do? It wasn't his fault that one of the hottest men alive happened to be related to him by blood.

In any case, Justin knew that no matter what he thought and how he felt, Brian would never be his. Brian Kinney was advertising himself as straight as it goes, if the continuous casual fucks with female guests of the hotel mean anything. Not only that, but Justin was sure that Brian despised him. Actually despised him. As far as he could remember, he was always nothing but kind, generous and non-judgmental towards Brian. But the look of disgust he got almost every time their eyes met was unmistakable and could only mean one thing. Brian knew. He knew that Justin was gay and, even worse, he knew that Justin was in love with him. He might even know that the only reason Justin had been working at the hotel for the past three years was so that he could be in close proximity with Brian.

Ah, well. It's not like there is anything Justin can do about it.

Admittedly, working here had other huge advantages as well. Firstly, his aunt was more than generous with his wages. He reckoned he made more than most of the common employees of the hotel. He was always Debbie's favorite nephew (thank god she has no idea of his feelings towards her son).

Secondly, he got to practice his German and Italian, since there were many guests from these respective countries.

Thirdly, he got to interact with numerous hot men, although not nearly as hot as Brian. He would spend endless hours sitting there, watching hot men at the pool, having lunch, drinking and partying, and he never, ever, made any move.

He didn't know what was stopping him. One of those days he would tell himself. The days would become weeks, the weeks months, and the months the whole freaking Summer.

As he was pondering all that, his mind registered something weird. At first he couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew something was off. A few minutes ago, one of the hot Italians came down the stairs. That didn't directly mean anything, because people were going up and down constantly. But wait a minute. The Italian's room was 339, at the other side of the complex. What was he doing on those stairs, the ones that lead to the part of the complex that included Brian's room?

Justin's stomach gave a nudge and he felt butterflies. Could it be that Brian and the Italian spent the whole night having sex? He immediately started fantasizing about that. Needless to say that he got a boner instantly. Thank goodness for his nice and cozy seat behind the mini market counter.

"Justin!"

"Huh? Yes, Linds, what up"

"Have you been daydreaming again sweetheart?"

"What? No, of course not. I'm stuck here with these trigonometric identities, that's all"

"Anyway. Could you do me a favor? I can't find Mike or Deb to stay in the reception and Brian asked for this iron" She showed an iron to him.

"What? Brian needs an iron? Since when does he do his own ironing? I thought one of the maids did that."

"You're right but apparently none of the maids did it this time so he has to do this just as everything else by himself, as he yelled through the phone a few minutes ago."

"Got it. Sure, I'll be happy to help you Linds." Happy? Justin was ecstatic. "Just make sure someone checks on me if I'm not back in, say, 10 minutes."

"Oh come on, give the man some credit. You know he would never kill you! I will check on you in ten minutes however."

As Justin climbed the stairs, he couldn't believe his luck. He would go to Brian's room. Not that he'd never been there before, of course. But never with Brian there as well. He was battling to keep a straight face while he knocked the door.

"Who is it!" Yup. Brian was in a horrible mood.

"Brian, it's me. I brought the iron."

"I asked Lindsay to bring it, not you!"

Justin didn't reply to that, he just waited.

After a few seconds, Brian answered the door. That twat. He was wearing a white T-shirt and had a towel around his waist. Would it kill him to be less shy? Justin knew he had a body to die for, since he has observed it over his clothes innumerable times.

"Hey, here's the iron."

"Thanks Justin. Tell Linds that she is a moron and I want HER to come up here. I have no fucking clue how to use that thing and I need my shirt and my pants RIGHT NOW!"

"What? You don't know how to iron a shirt? Seriously?"

"Will you please shut the fuck up and go do what I asked you to do? God, why do I have to put up with morons every single day?"

"Lindsay cannot leave the reception desk, there's no one there to replace her."

"Oh, that's just great." Brian started closing the door, as Justin had an idea.

"Um, I know, you know."

"What?" Brian looked at Justin through the half closed door.

"I know how to use the iron. I have had to iron my clothes many times, you know how busy my mom can be."

"So…"

"So, if you want, I can iron your shirt and pants for you. It won't be a problem for me at all."

Brian stood there, his face expressionless. Justin could feel his heart racing, and his palms getting sweaty.

"OK, come on in. Only be quick, I need to go to the restaurant and check tonight's menu ASAP.

Justin was trying not to think. He was afraid that the smallest thing could set off a sensitive balance and he would find himself thrown out. Although the actual procedure of Brian grabbing him and throwing out, and the physical intimacy it required, didn't exactly repulse him. No. Focus. Finish the ironing, and get out. This is a great opportunity to fix your relationship with Brian, Justin told himself. He didn't listen, of course.

"So what happened." Fuck. He couldn't control himself.

As Brian looked at him, his face a huge, gorgeous, question mark, Justin explained:

"What happened last night. You are not that late usually."
"That's none of your fucking business."

"I'm just making conversation."

Brian ignored him. What the hell, this was the greatest opportunity ever presented to Justin and he was going to grab it by the balls.

"I just saw that Italian from 339 coming down the stairs. It's weird; his room is nowhere near this place. What do you think?"

"I think you should shut up and focus on my shirt."

"Well I think he visited a room up here. Probably had sex with some guy."

"What? What makes you think he had sex with a guy. Why not a woman."

"Oh please, he is as gay as it goes."

"You would know."

Justin became redder than mature beets. Why did Brian say that? Even if he knew of his sexual orientation, he also knew that Justin never discussed about it and kept it a secret.

"Yes, I suppose I would." There. Two of us can be shockingly honest.

"You can tell then. Can you tell for others as well?"

"Of course. Right now, we have 9 homosexual men in the hotel."

Brian didn't say anything. He sat down on his bed, apparently deep in thought. After a few minutes, while Justin was finishing up his pants, he talked to Justin again.

"How about me."

"What about you." Things are starting to get interesting here.

"What can you tell about me."

"Brian, there is nothing I can tell about you. Your hundreds of casual fucks with female guests speak for themselves."

"Yes, but other than that, what can you tell."
"I don't know." Fuck. I shouldn't have said that. That was the truth, however. He never managed to bring himself and say that Brian is straight if he looked at him objectively.

"Fuck you, you fucking faggot! Who do you think you are and can talk to me like this!"
"Brian, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, I was just taken by surprise…"

"Fucking surprise my ass! Get out! Give me that!"

"Brian, wait, the iron is still hot…"

The next few minutes evolved as if in slow motion. Justin saw his cousin grab the hot iron from his hand and try to jerk it away. Somehow, it slipped and started flying through the air out of control. The last image Justin had was one of the bottom of the iron reaching his face. After that, it was pure pain and agony.