Brian's POV
For the following week, Justin kept me on bed rest. The slightest hint of leaving the bed for anything else other than the bathroom, he'd get all bossy and snappy. Any other time I'd have found it hot, but it was driving me crazy. Not in a good way, too.
Between the pills and Dwayne's daily visits, including Justin's attempts to massage me; which didn't compare at all to what Dwayne did, but I didn't have the heart to tell him no, my pain let up.
This morning I'd adventured to the kitchen—or tried to, because I barely reached the door of our bedroom when I found myself calling for Justin. He rushed upstairs, eyes narrowing.
"Get back in bed!" he'd demanded.
"I'm sick of that bed. I want to have my coffee in the kitchen."
A small glaring contest later, he helped me down the stairs. Thankfully, we drank the coffee on the couch when I could lean back, ignoring the shots of pain coming from my lower back muscles.
I was grateful when Dwayne appeared for my eleven o'clock appointment. With his help, I returned to the bedroom—a place I started to hate.
Justin spent most of the day in the attic, where he'd installed his art. He only emerged to bring me food a few hours ago, saying he had to return to his painting while the sun was still shining and he was inspired.
I bided my time on my laptop. Working from home was never my favorite past-time activity. At the moment, the cat was the only thing making me feel better. I never believed that cats could heal people or make them feel better. Since my backache started, she never left my side, staying curled on my lap, or my chest, depending on my position in bed.
After Dwayne's last session, this morning, I felt close to no pain, which made me brave enough in the late evening, to go in search of Justin.
As always, the cat jumped off me, before trotting out of the room as if she hadn't been a real help. It reminded me a lot of myself—doing something good for someone else but not assuming the action.
She hadn't been something planned, because everyone knew pets and I didn't mix. But then one day she somehow ended up on the windowsill of my window at Kinnetik. It was quite high, and I still have no idea how she climbed there. The thing is she kept mewling until I stormed out of my office, went outside and with Theodore's help I pulled her down. When he put her in my arms, I was ready to freak at the hair and the idea of having something small and alive curled in the crook of my arm. But something happened. She mewled softly, rubbing her head on my expensive suit, starting to purr, and I knew I couldn't let her go.
All my friends decided getting the cat was a definite sign of me going crazy, but I didn't care.
I made my way carefully to the attic, pleased when my back didn't hurt. The cat was already curled on the only ray of light entering the room, making me smile. My attention was quickly diverted to Justin.
He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his ass, accentuating what was hidden underneath. That bubble butt of his would be the death of me. The hand holding the brush was flying over the canvas while the other held a painting pallet smattered in a variety of crazy colors. I couldn't see what he was painting, and I knew I'd be in deep shit for seeing it before he finished.
I stifled a chuckle as he scratched his blond hair, leaving a streak of blue on his strands.
"Go away, Cupcake. Not now," he muttered, not turning to me.
It made me laugh harder. He thought I was the dog.
"Aw, why grouchy, dear?" I walked closer wrapping my arms around him.
Justin jumped, tensing up. "Fuck, Brian. Why aren't you in bed?" He turned around.
"Not that entertaining without you there." I fingered his blue hair.
"Well, go back. I'll join you as soon as I figure out what to do with my painting."
After a quick glance over his shoulder at the abstract art work, I found his eyes searching my face. "I was thinking of changing my quarters. Do you want to watch a movie?" I was desperate to leave the bedroom.
"Sure. Just don't…strain yourself," he said softly, cupping my cheek. I could feel something wet on my skin, but it didn't matter. The disadvantages of living with a painter were dirty clothes and stains on everything. "Oh, oops." Justin extracted a handkerchief from his pocket and after spitting on it, he started scrubbing at my face.
I had no idea what surprised me the most—the fact that he possessed a cloth handkerchief or that he used it in a way only Debbie would when Michael had his face covered in ice cream when we were younger.
"Sunshine, what the fuck are you doing?"
He froze mid-scrubbing. "Shit. Sorry." He dropped his hand. "I fucking hated when Mom used to do that. I can't believe…"
I laughed. "Don't worry, but next time you decide to pass your saliva on me it better be covering my cock."
He chuckled nervously, pushing me gently to the door. "Go now. Be careful, okay?"
"You're making me feel old," I complained, taking the stairs down one at a time.
"You are old!" he called sweetly after me.
"Twat," I muttered.
As I reached the kitchen, an accomplishment it only took me about ten minutes, Justin breezed past me, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. He grinned at me before drinking.
I scowled. My small victory of walking on my own from the attic to the kitchen in ten minutes was stomped on by the young twink in-mate.
"Why the long face? Something hurting?"
"Yeah, my pride," I grumbled, sitting in the first available stool. "Could you not skip around while I'm in pain here?"
"I thought you said you were okay." He came closer, standing between my legs. "Want me to rub your back?"
"I want to do something, anything that doesn't require going in the bedroom."
Justin threw his head back, laughing loudly. "I lived the day to hear Brian Kinney saying he wants to avoid the bedroom."
I grabbed his chin, narrowing my eyes.
"Well, in that case…" He smirked. "Are you up to—"
"Always am, Sunshine." I winked.
Justin rolled his eyes at my antics. "I was going to say if you want to go to Woody's, or maybe even Babylon?"
"Oh. Yeah, I guess." Not like I could get out of the bed for the past few days, but I'd avoided talking to our friends. They didn't know any details on my sudden back injury. It was going to be mortifying admitting my age was taking a toll on me.
Justin palmed my forehead, frowning. "Do you have a fever or something? This back pain affected your brain."
"I grew up, remember?"
"Oh, right." He placed his hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eye. I was going to get a lecture à la Justin. "That's bullshit. Going out isn't off limits after a specific age."
"Yeah, because no one looks at bears, unless they're into that."
"By asking if you wanted to go out, I meant to go together, as a COUPLE!" He spat the word. "And I'd be offended if you danced with anyone else, let alone take them to the Backroom."
"I was joking, Justin," I explained.
"I hope so." He pecked my lips.
"That means we're going?" I looked at him hopeful. I missed going out with him, and I needed the distraction.
"Woody's?"
I nodded, wrapping my arms around him, palming his ass. Damn, if I was sure my back wouldn't burst in flames at the first strenuous activity, I'd take him right there, against the table.
oOo
Woody's was as packed as ever on a Saturday evening.
As we stepped inside, Justin fisted my shirt at the small of my back. I knew it was his silent way of telling me he was there.
I could tell my back pain had freaked him out, and it was my first time out and about since the faithful day.
Wrapping my arm around his waist, I walked to our friends, but Justin slipped away to get us drinks.
Emmett was the first to spot us. "Lookie who decided to join the outside world!"
I scowled, carefully sitting on a chair next to Mikey, and stealing his beer.
"How are you feeling?" he inquired immediately.
Rejecting his calls had been my favorite distraction while I was on bed rest.
"I'm still breathing. It was nothing." And so the fun began, dodging the questions.
Justin snorted, appearing at my side with two beers. He sat on my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck. For unknown reasons, I didn't push him away. Instead, I pulled him closer, nuzzling that spot behind his ear. He sucked in a breath, making me smile. Two could play a game.
"I know what back pain is," Theodore said seriously. "Being unable to move an inch, or see anything else besides the ceiling of your bedroom can get old fast."
I gave him a tight smile, not ready to admit he was right.
"Old being the key word," Justin whispered in my ear, giggling.
"What exactly happened, anyway?" Mikey demanded.
"Oh, you know Brian…we tried something new in bed." Justin absolved himself of all the being old teasing by taking my side so gracefully.
I turned his head to me, kissing him deeply, gripping tightly at his hair.
"Well, you know you're not a young stud anymore," Emmett reminded me in his airy fashion.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I was sick and tired of these grandpa jokes. "I can still have anyone in this bar." When Justin stiffened in my arms, I added quickly, "Not that I'd do anything. I want to make my point."
"You're on. I bet you twenty, you lost your touch." Emmett placed the bill on the table, smirking at me.
"Let me up, Sunshine. I'm going to school young Honeycutt in the art of seducing—no matter the age you are." I gave him a pointed look.
Standing, I looked around the room and spotted my prey. He was at the pool table looking abandoned by his friends.
"Watch and learn." I winked, making my way to the pool table.
The young man was arranging the balls, preparing to play alone. I stopped behind him, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. I could have used any of my pick-up lines, but I couldn't go through with all the promises, and I never lie. So I went with an easy, slightly inoffensive one.
"Need a partner?"
He glanced over his shoulder, smiling nervously. I knew the moment he recognized me—his eyes widened and he swallowed hard.
"Sure. Do you…do you want to break?" He handed me a cue stick.
"Always." I smirked, pushing him out of my way.
I should have thought my move through, so when I bent over the table, I would have realized my back wasn't up for such a gesture. Pain shot through my lower back making me grasp at the end of the table.
"Fuck," I hissed, grabbing my back.
My prey said something about not being into grandpas before hightailing it from there.
I'm in pain, asshole! I glared after him, trying to straighten up.
A pair of arms wrapped around me. "You said you were feeling better." Justin sounded accusatory, but worried.
"I was."
"I can see that, Brian. Come on. I'm taking you home."
"Don't treat me like a child."
"Stop acting like one!" Justin pushed me against the pool table.
"Uh, guys?" Mikey called from our table.
It was then I realized the silence in the bar. Not ready to admit defeat, I took Justin back to our friends, glaring at anyone who dared look at me the wrong way. It was none of their business what was going on with me.
I was surprised Emmett didn't squeal he'd won, but then I noticed the pitiful look in Theodore's eyes, the curious and amused look on Ben, the worried look on Mikey.
"Quit it," I muttered to them.
Emmett managed to break the awkward moment by calling me a drama queen, always being in the center of attention.
"It's my natural good looks." I winked at Justin when he groaned loudly. "Though, they do me no good when I can barely move."
The night went on smoothly with the usual lame jokes and many shots of JB. I only had one glass because I was still taking meds. Around midnight, most of the crowd started leaving for Babylon. I was proud of my baby still bringing as many clients as ever. And even though any other day I'd be there supervising them, lately I hadn't found that urge to join in the thumpa-thumpa.
"We're going home," I announced loudly.
Justin stopped putting his jacket on, one arm in the sleeve, one out. "You said your back stopped hurting."
"I'm better, yes. I don't want to take any chances. That's all. Besides, I want to go home and be alone with you."
"That's so sweet!" Emmett gushed.
Justin cringed, probably thinking I wanted to go over table seating, flowers or anything wedding related. Being unable to do much, I'd engrossed myself in the wedding preparations.
"Next time you come over to discuss the wedding, Brian's your guy." Justin patted my shoulder, smiling tightly at Emmett.
"That's wonderful, Brian! As I always say, the groom has a very important role in organizing the wedding, not only appearing at the ceremony in that penguin suit and saying 'I do'."
"Excuse me!" Justin growled, shrugging his jacket on, straightening it and glaring at Emmett. "We've been over this. Several times. I am the groom, too! And I'll be wearing said penguin suit, too."
"Easy with the claws, Sunshine," I whispered, placing my hand on the back of his neck. "Look at Mikey, accepting his role with dignity."
"For that one, you'll be screaming in pain and I won't rub your back!"
"Could be worse. You could withhold sex."
He raised an eyebrow at me in challenge.
"You'll come begging," I said seriously.
"Wanna bet?" Justin dared me.
I shrugged. "There's always the Backroom of Babylon."
"You wouldn't!"
"Oh, I would. I'm a man—a gay man. I need sex in my life. I don't know about you, but I won't be held responsible for my actions if you deny me your bubble butt."
Emmett wrapped his arms around our necks. "Now, now."
"Can you discuss Sunshine's behind at home? Privately," Theodore begged.
"Yeah, we don't want to hear about that," Mikey added, scowling.
Sometimes, I wondered how Zen Ben could accept that his wife was in love with another man as well. It was the truth, I loved Michael, but my feelings for him didn't come anywhere near as much as I loved Justin. Even when he irked the hell out of me, like at the moment.
We slowly migrated outside Woody's ready to say goodbye.
Emmett heaved a sighed, wrapping an arm around Theodore. "I guess the married, or soon-to-be married couples prefer to cuddle in front of the fireplace. It's just you and me, Ted."
"Actually," Theodore said quietly, slipping away from Emmett. "Blake's plane probably landed. He's back from the meeting he had in San Diego."
Emmett scowled. "More for me. So long!" He waved to us, walking in the direction of Babylon.
We split in different directions. On the way to the car, Justin pulled one of my hands from my pocket and intertwined our fingers.
"You know I didn't mean it, right? I just hate…" He leaned into me, wrapping his other hand around my arm.
"…being called the bride?" I guessed. "I understand you. It hurts your male ego."
"It does!"
"It's a joke, Justin. Really, take a leaf out of Mikey's book—"
"Stop comparing me to Michael! Why am I the wife? Because I bottom?"
"Correct." I smirked, kissing his head.
"Wrooong! You do too. To me. Seldom. But you do. And you don't see me calling you names."
"Justin…" I looked around worried someone might have overheard us.
"Oh, now you're worried about your reputation?" He laughed. "God, Brian."
"Can we talk about this at home?" I almost begged.
"Sure. Whatever you say, honey."
The car ride was tense, and all I could think of was I might have gone a notch too high with the teasing about Justin being the bride. It was a silly joke, and I planned to prove to him that I saw him like the man he was, the second we got home.
I was so happy Daphne had made peace with her parents and was staying with them. We could have the house to ourselves.
The second I parked the car, Justin was out, not looking back. He was truly upset.
I caught up with him when he was already in our bedroom.
"I'm sorry," I dragged the words out. My hand went to his hair, playing with it.
Justin froze, lifting a shaky finger and pointing to the bed.
"What?" I looked in the pointed direction and gasped. My hand fell limply to my side. "What's he chewing on?" I asked suspiciously.
"I think it's a shoe."
"One of mine, of course, because he has great taste. Not even the dog would touch your sneakers." I bumped his shoulder on the way to the bed.
Cupcake pulled away from his new chew toy and growled at me.
I raised my hands to show him I didn't want my shoe back. It would be the fifth pair gone to trash since Justin returned to me, along with his crazy puppy.
"Brian, I don't think it's a shoe," Justin said slowly, approaching the bed and placing his hands on my shoulders. "You don't happen to have any red shoes, do you?"
"Of course not!" I frowned at Cupcake.
"What's that, boy?" Justin asked gently, trying to pull away the object only to get a loud growl.
I got up, and started getting undressed. "Can you at least chew whatever you have there on the floor? I'd like my bed back."
"Brian!" Justin squeaked, making me look at him amused. "What was in that box?" He pointed to an empty shoe box poking from under the bed.
The blue box.
My eyes widened as I stared at the dog in horror.
"You fucking animal! That was my favorite dildo!" I lunged on the bed, forgetting about my upset back, which seemed to be on my side not acting up at the moment.
Cupcake jumped back, clearly startled. He abandoned his new chew toy in the process.
I picked what was left of the nine inch plastic dick with two fingers, lifting it in the air and fighting my gag reflex.
"Fuck!" I chucked it at the dog, groaning.
He wrapped himself around the dildo, going back to digging his fangs into the head, already missing parts.
Justin slapped me upside the head, before crawling to the dog. "Don't! Let go of it. Did you eat that?" He turned to me, looking scared. "You do realize he ate what's missing from the dildo, right? That's silicone."
"So?" I glared at the animal who was busy ripping through my favorite sex toy.
"Brian!" Justin moaned, turning white. "We need to take him to the vet."
"You're kidding. Fine, we go, but you explain what he ate."
He rolled his eyes, turning back to the puppy. "Come here, Cupcake. Drop that."
He got a loud growl in response and a warning bark when he reached to the dildo. I grabbed Justin's hand.
"Don't be stupid. He could bite you."
"Then what do we do? We need to take him to the vet. Why are you keeping the sex toys under the bed?"
"Oh no. Don't blame this on me. I always keep them under the bed, they're handy. And you know it. It's not my fault he decided to poke around and found my favorite dildo, claiming it as his new chew toy."
"We can buy another one. Cupcake is more important. Here, boy. Come here." Justin patted his thigh.
Cupcake stopped chewing, watching Justin for a few moments, head cocked to the side then resumed chewing.
"This is useless," I mumbled.
What felt like hours later, Justin managed to pull the dog away from the dildo long enough for me to chuck the chewed sex toy to the bathroom before we went to the car. It was after midnight, and there was only one clinic opened at that hour.
I'd needed it last year at some point when the cat was sick.
As we stepped into the clinic, Justin watched me worried. "Do you think he'll be okay?"
"I'm sure lots of dogs do this. The doctor will take care of him."
When said doctor appeared behind the counter, I suppressed a groan. It had to be the same guy I fucked last year, didn't it? He recognized me too, but Justin was already babbling about Cupcake.
Dr. Wilson led the way to a room to examine the puppy, while Justin kept talking. I knew by now he talked so much when he was nervous.
"It's going to be okay," I whispered, wrapping my arm around his shoulders.
"You think?" His tired, scared blue eyes looked at me, searching an honest answer.
"I hope so."
"What exactly happened? Can one of you hold him down?" Dr. Wilson nodded to the table in the middle of the room.
Justin walked there, putting Cupcake down and rubbing his back soothingly. The puppy had calmed minutely, probably realizing this was the place with needles. He'd hated all his vet visits so far.
"Well, what happened is that beast decided to get a taste of fake dick," I muttered.
Justin narrowed his eyes at me, but kept stroking Cupcake gently.
At the doctor's confused look, he explained. "Cupcake chewed on a dildo. I think he ate some of it too. I couldn't see the missing parts on the bed."
"Huh. Dogs do all kinds of crazy things. We need to scan his stomach and see if he ingested any of it."
"But he'll be okay, right, doc?" Justin asked almost pleadingly.
"I'll give him pills to eliminate the unfamiliar object he ingested. He should be fine, but he needs supervision over the next few days. Anything unfamiliar let me know."
"Unfamiliar object?" I snorted. "He got up close and personal with my favorite toy. He's very familiar with it."
"Brian, not now."
I stayed aside while Justin helped Dr. Wilson examine Cupcake, holding him and shushing him when he started whining after being stung by the needle. Looking at them, I reflected over our night. Maybe Cupcake finding a new chew toy saved us from a fight.
It was near three o'clock when we returned home from the clinic. Justin had Cupcake in a blanket, dozing off in the passenger's seat. I didn't want to think of Cupcake as his and the cat as mine, they were both ours, but I couldn't feel much love toward that dog when he ruined my favorite toy. And it had been so fucking expensive.
When we stepped inside, and Justin went as far as to put the dog in the guest bedroom to be comfortable, I made a mental note to buy lots of dog toys in the morning. Maybe that way he wouldn't go snooping at my toys.
Brian's better now, but of course, they don't get a moment of rest. How cute is Cupcake?