Familiarization of Liberty

I don't own anything; it's the property of JKR, Raincoast, RTD, Cowlip, Showtime, et al.

Warnings for this story: slash, of course, language, adult themes.

Additional notes, including spoilers, etc, can be found before the first chapter.

Originally posted: 16 May 09

Chapter Four

Draco found himself at the diner again the following weekend. Molly was at her father's, and Aunt Jennifer had previously scheduled something she called a girl's retreat with friends. It had been postponed a couple of times already, and Draco urged her not to cancel because of him, assuring her that he could manage on his own for two days.

Aunt Jennifer made sure he had the cell phone she'd given him and that he knew how to use it, making him promise to keep it with him, just in case. She'd programmed a series of numbers into it – her own, which made sense, but also all of Justin's, Craig's, and Debbie's.

Justin still hadn't returned his mother's calls, so he'd have no idea who his cousin Draco – or his cousin Daniel, which was the name he'd chosen to use – was, and Craig certainly hadn't been pleased at learning that Draco was know living with his ex-family, so he wasn't sure why she'd included them. If it were a dire emergency, he might call Debbie, since she had at least heard of him and hadn't recoiled at the sight of him.

It was that thought and the realization that the only two friendly people he knew in this country were otherwise occupied that lured him to the Liberty Diner. After the others had left on Friday, he hadn't had quite enough time to work up the courage to leave the house. He'd rather enjoyed the time alone, actually, and, he was embarrassed to admit, he had enjoyed the opportunity to control the remote for the television (T.V., his inner Molly corrected). But after thirty hours of solitude, he was ready for company. Debbie might be a friendly face, but what interested him was the Diner itself. The wizarding world wasn't opposed to homosexuality, exactly, but given the traditional emphasis on blood and family, it couldn't be entirely welcoming, particularly not in the Malfoy circles, and he was intrigued.

He called for a taxi, since he wasn't quite confident enough to chance the bus – the idea of public transportation was horrifying – but when he handed over the fare, he decided it was one fear he'd have to get over quickly if he enjoyed himself on Liberty Avenue – that, or he'd have to learn to drive as Aunt Jennifer had threatened.

Draco looked at the tacky establishment – the lights and shadows of the night only made it worse – then squared his shoulders and entered. He found an empty booth near the door and sat gingerly, trying to watch the other patrons without being obvious about it.

He hadn't been there more than a couple of minutes before Debbie entered from a door at the back. She'd paired a leopard print with a block-printed scarf and a yellow flower in her hair; unsurprisingly, her voice was as loud as her outfit as she exchanged remarks with a couple of patrons as she passed them on her way to the door. Draco was caught off guard, however, when she stopped next to his table. "What are you doing here?" Her tone was not belligerent, exactly, but something unreadable and a bit challenging.

"Hoping to get something to eat?" He threw in a quick grin, the one that usually convinced females to give him his way.

She snapped her gum and gave him a measuring look. "I don't think you'll find what you're hungry for on our menu."

Draco assumed the innuendo was unintentional and wasn't sure how to reply without drawing attention to it. She seemed to take his silence as agreement.

"Come on. My shift's finished, and you're not going to find what you're looking for here."

She didn't give him a chance to respond to that either, practically hauling him out of the booth and out of the diner.

"Where are we going?" The Malfoy in him was nervous at the thought of entering any room with 'this sort' of woman.

"You wanna know? You're gonna have to come with me to find out." Her tone was challenging, as though she'd known why he'd asked.

He knew he could explore on his own. The diner was filled with people who looked like they were going to or coming from somewhere interesting, including a table with three guys just a bit older than he himself not far from where he'd been sitting. Even if Jennifer hadn't told him, however, it would have been obvious that she knew everyone; the number of people that Debbie had been hailed by as she walked through the diner proved that she was a valuable contact.

What most prompted his reply, though, was that he didn't want to hurt his Aunt Jennifer or this strange, gaudy woman. Vanquishing the Ghost of Lucius Malfoy, at least temporarily, he extended his arm gallantly. "Far be it for me to deny a Lady an escort," he said, careful not to allow a hint of sarcasm creep into his tone.

She barked a laugh but took his arm. "You'll do just fine, Moonlight."

"I'm terribly sorry. I didn't introduce myself. I'm D-aniel. Jennifer Taylor's nephew. She pointed me out the other day?"

"I know who you are."

A block or so from the diner, Debbie hailed an approaching man in a blue shirt, whom she introduced as her brother Vic. She introduced Draco as 'Moonlight' and continued a stream of chatter that made it impossible for Draco to interject and correct her.

Her monologue – which lasted, uninterrupted, for the duration of their walk – made it clear that none of Debbie's innuendo was unintentional. That was disconcerting. He'd never met anyone as earthy, loud, or unapologetically brash as Debbie Novotny. Before long they arrived at a place called Woody's, where Debbie waved him up the steps. It was a pub – a bar, he corrected himself – not too dissimilar to the Three Broomsticks on the few occasions when Draco had been there outside of term time. It was also incredibly busy. He started to follow Debbie as she headed to a table, but she sent him off. "Sitting with us, you'll attract guys looking for a Mama's boy, and I don't think that's your type."

Having resigned himself to spending his evening making polite conversation with his aunt's friend, he gave her a rueful sort of grin. He was still a bit uncomfortable with the bold innuendo from a woman of her age but strangely looking forward to the time when he wouldn't be.

Wandering up to the bar, he was immediately hit on by a couple of guys, neither of whom was worth his time. He ordered a soda, since he was underage and didn't look old enough to be served alcohol. He'd been disgruntled to learn that not only did Muggles not come of age at seventeen, but they had ascribed random ages for various activities to be legal. He assumed that even Muggles had fake IDs, however, and he would have to look into getting one in the future. Tonight, he was only mildly disappointed since losing control in an unfamiliar environment would be more dangerous than he was willing to risk at the moment. The room revealed a few prospects, and he watched them for a while, getting a feel for how things were done outside boarding school and fending off offers that were just as practiced and just as execrable as the ones he'd had back home.

He was at the bar, ordering another drink when a firm, lean body pressed against his back, hands sliding around to settle on his hips. "You said you were heading straight home. You should be punished for telling lies like that," an incredibly sexy voice whispered in his ear, before lips began nibbling on it.

Draco pressed his hips back slightly and stifled a groan. "It's not that I don't appreciate the sentiment—" because he really, really did "—but I think you've confused me with someone else." The accent must have given him away; the body behind him began to pull back even before he'd finished speaking, leaving him enough room to turn around.

When he did, Draco nearly groaned again.

He was gorgeous, with dark, tousled hair, eyes that were slightly too hazel to be considered green. His body was built for sex, and he had the look of a man who knew how to use it. Unfortunately – and given his luck lately, unsurprisingly – he knew who this was. "Brian Kinney?"

The older man recovered quickly and was willing to play, though questions continued to shadow his eyes. "I see my reputation has traveled farther than I'd realized," he replied, confirming Draco's guess with a grin.

"I've met a couple of fans." When it came to Craig and, to a lesser extent, Molly, the words would have been sarcastic, but Aunt Jennifer had expressed admiration more than once for what Brian was doing for her son, especially given how the senior Taylors had treated him. If her admiration was tinged with jealousy, Draco certainly wasn't going to mention it, not to Jennifer nor to Brian. Debbie had also mentioned him on the way to the bar, in the context of her son's best friend, with equally mixed emotions. Over Brian's shoulder, Draco caught a glimpse of her watching intently with an expression of worry. That was enough to remind him of what he could be risking if he were to continue this game, and he offered his hand to Brian for a friendly shake rather than a flirty one.

"I'm Daniel." He waited until Brian had taken his hand before adding, "Taylor." He felt the flinch, faint as it was, though there was no visible sign of it. "Aunt Jen's mentioned you."

I'm sure she has. The expression crossing Brian's face was as obvious as if he'd spoken the words aloud, and Draco realized two things: Brian Kinney hadn't the slightest idea how grateful Jennifer was, and it was astounding that he was able to maintain his reputation as a heartless arse if he couldn't hide emotions better than that.

"No one's mentioned you." Brian sounded piqued, and Draco was hard-pressed to hide a smile.

"He doesn't know I'm here. He hasn't returned his mother's calls."

Across the room, Michael Novotny finally noticed his best friend.

"Holy shit."

"What?" Ted looked up from the shot he was setting up on the pool table.

"Brian's found another one."

Rolling his eyes, Ted returned his attention to the game. "When it happens daily for the better part of fifteen years, Michael, it's no longer news."

"No, look." The younger man gestured with his pool cue. "He's got a clone of the Boy Wonder."

"Holy shit."

"What?" Emmett, returning from the bathroom, scanned the room to see what had them so shocked. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Your mother is entitled to a life, Sweetie. Sooner or later you're going to have to let her grow up."

"My mother's here?" Michael searched the room frantically and emitted a noise of pain when he finally found her. While he headed for Debbie and Vic's table, Ted pointed out Brian's latest conquest to Emmett.

"Huh. I know you should stock up when you find the perfect accessory, but I hadn't realized that also applied to twinks."

With more subtlety than Debbie had shown earlier that evening, Brian maneuvered Draco away from the bar to corner where they could speak uninterrupted.

"So you're Justin's cousin."

Technically, it was a statement, but Draco heard the questions that would follow and braced himself for the interrogation. Draco Malfoy would have told the Muggle exactly what he could do with himself and his questions, but Daniel Taylor – as much as it galled him to admit it – was dependent on the Taylor family, Jennifer's branch of it at least, and in their own ways, Jennifer, Molly, and even Craig had made it very clear how important Brian Kinney was in their lives, for better or worse.

"What are you doing with Jennifer if you're Craig's nephew? I would have thought that would have been verboten."

"I'm not Craig's nephew, I'm Jennifer's," he replied, answering the question that was asked but not offering additional information. It could be considered antagonistic, but he preferred to think of it as Slytherin, and he was astute enough to recognize someone who belonged to his house, even if the man in question were a Muggle.

"I know the Country Club set doesn't cotton to that sort of thing," Brian drawled before sharpening his tone to match his stare. "If you're his mother's nephew, why do you have his father's name?"

Draco could have used 'Black' as Jennifer had; it was his birthright as much as 'Malfoy' was. She'd kept her married name after the divorce, however, so he'd have been the only one, and he'd decided that if he was going to have a pretend family, he was damned well allowed to pretend to belong to it. That it annoyed Craig Taylor to the point that he'd consulted lawyers was a bonus.

"Well, I could have kept the one I was born with, but that would rather defeat the point of running away from home," Draco replied, trying to keep his answers light but knowing he'd been less than successful.

Brian caught the bitterness, his eyes zeroing in on Draco's. "Serious?"

Unbidden, Draco's mind flashed a series of images, scenes in which Draco was trapped in the future his father had planned for him, and he worked to suppress a shudder. "Yes," was all he said.

Brian stared at him for another long moment before nodding. He tapped the neck of his beer bottle to the rim of Draco's glass before raising it in a gesture that could have been mocking but felt congratulatory. "Fuck 'em," he said and drained his beer.

Draco picked up his glass with a faint smile. Fuck 'em, he repeated silently, wishing that letting go of Voldemort and his father really was that easy, and drank.

The rest of the interrogation was relatively painless.

Justin was watching television when Brian returned to the loft.

"How's your mother?"

Justin surfed through four channels before answering. "Fine." The silence stretched for several moments before he caved and asked, "Why?"

"You're usually on the phone with her regularly." Or you used to be, they both amended mentally. "I haven't heard you lately. I wondered if there was something wrong, if she was out of town...."

"No. We're both just busy."

"Uh-huh." The sound was full of disbelief, but Brian just stared at him for several moments before turning toward the bedroom. Just as Justin began to relax, thinking he might actually leave it at that, Brian paused on the stairs. "Don't you think you've punished her enough? Considering you won?" Brian watched Justin's finger hovering over the volume button, but he chose not to risk it, instead surfing violently past several more channels.

"You can't shut her out forever, Justin. She cares about you."

"I did it."

Justin was almost grateful for the lingering nervousness that he felt as he continued, alone, down Liberty Avenue. Without it, he might have danced or burst into song, which was a bit too enthusiastic a reaction to walking down the street, no matter how long it had been or how significant it was.

And it was significant. One of his top three most significant walks on Liberty Avenue, Justin snorted mentally, and that's not a list most people have.

In at least one very important way, this was at the very top of the list: unlike the first night, when he'd met Brian, or the horrible day after he'd been released from the hospital and he'd come looking for Brian, this time Brian was there, watching and waiting. For him.

Feeling triumphant, Justin debated what to do next. Brian would have to go to the apartment to change before the charity dinner, and if Justin were there, he'd use him as excuse not to go, or, more likely, deliver not only the promised blow job but a marathon fuck that wouldn't end well after the event was over. The Center was an important and valuable resource, but even Justin had to admit it was run by assholes. Given attitude of the committee chairs, Brian would happily take – or create – an excuse not to accept the Center's award. Talk about not being gracious in victory.

Thinking about what Brian had said the day before, Justin realized how unfair he'd been to berate Brian for how he was treating Michael given how awfully shaky his moral high ground was. He was being irrational and petty in his treatment of his own mother, he knew that, and he was lucky that Brian hadn't called him on his hypocrisy.

Being Sunday afternoon, the bus wasn't crowded, so Justin had a seat to himself in addition to plenty of time to wonder what his mother's reaction would be to him suddenly showing up on her doorstep. He decided against calling to let her know he was coming, in case he changed his mind, which he nearly did, several times. He didn't, though, so he found himself there, staring at the door for several moments, wondering if he should just walk in. It seemed strange, the idea of knocking. His mom and sister lived there; it was supposed to be his home. Supposed to be but wasn't, and not just because it wasn't the house he'd grown up in. He didn't belong in any version of the Taylor household anymore. Knocking, accepting that, would be best for him.

His mom answered the door. "Justin!"

She was so surprised and so obviously happy to see him that he felt guilty for having avoided her. She moved to hug him, but stopped herself. Seeing that, Justin was overwhelmed by waves of emotion: guilt, again, gratitude, ... love. He decided that if he could tease Brian about blowing him on Liberty Avenue in broad daylight, he could hug his mom. He stepped into her embrace, her arms wrapping around him tightly enough that he could feel her suppressed sob.

He was beginning to feel concerned that there would be a repeat of the party they'd had for Micheal before he moved to Oregon, when Deb couldn't release her hold on her son, but she let go, reluctantly, before he needed to say anything. He noticed her eyes were glassy as she pulled him into the house, but his apology was forgotten when she spoke.

"Come on in, Honey. There's someone you should meet."