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Chapter Six
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Hunter stands in front of Justin when they reach the door, and as such, when Brian buzzes them up, he is of the opinion that Hunter is his only guest. But once the boys make their way up the rickety elevator and into Brian's doorway, it becomes clear that that is not the case.
"Okay," Brian says, standing there in a black wifebeater and jeans. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Deb's in the hospital," Hunter explains, pushing past Brian to enter the loft. Justin follows, looking nervous, and takes the time to wipe his feet before entering. As Hunter flops down on the couch, Justin takes off his shoes and places them carefully beside the door. It is then that Hunter elaborates, "She hurt her back."
Brian ignores Justin altogether. "So you're here," he says, "because Ben and Mikey didn't want you to have to see her all injured?"
"No," Hunter sneers. "We're here because she can't have too many visitors, and god knows she wouldn't want to see you."
It is clear to both of them that this is completely irrelevant, but it lingers in Brian's mind that maybe it's true. He casts the thought away, instead directing his attention toward Justin, who is sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Why are you on the floor?" Brian asks, keeping harshness out of his voice because he knows that the kid doesn't need that. Doesn't deserve that. Can't deal with that.
But thinking back to his own childhood, it becomes clear to Brian that there is really no explanation other than the fact that sitting on the floor is what Justin has been conditioned to do. So, aware that Hunter is gazing at him in bewilderment, Brian swiftly crosses the room and extends a hand to a petrified-looking Justin. "Come on," Brian says, as though his intents were not obvious. "I'll help you up."
Nervously, Justin takes Brian's hand and gets to his feet. "Um," he says quietly, almost imperceptibly. "Thanks."
Hunter chokes back laughter.
"So," Brian says loudly, looking at his watch. Eleven-oh-two. Great. "You guys want breakfast, or what? If we go to the diner, we won't have to see Debbie."
Justin quietly interjects, "I know how to cook, if you want me to. For breakfast, I can make eggs, french toast, pancakes… pretty much anything. Or bacon or sausage or… anything, really." He blushes and grins sheepishly. "Your dish is my command."
Brian and Hunter gape at him.
"Uh, yeah," Brian says slowly after a moment's pause. "Let's go to the diner, kiddos."
Hunter looks around and then proposes, "What if we order in? I mean, not from the diner. Like, from a pizza place or something."
Brian fixes him with an evil stare. "I don't eat pizza," he growls, alarming Justin. "And even if I did, I wouldn't eat it at eleven in the morning."
The younger boy whimpers. "But I want it," he whines.
Fully aware that there must be some sort of ulterior motive in the boy's request, Brian grumbles. "Fine," he drawls. "Justin – how do you like your pizza?"
"I haven't had it," Justin replies softly.
Hunter and Brian's eyes bulge.
"You've never had pizza?" Brian demands. "What the fuck?"
Justin recoils. "Uh… sorry," he mumbles.
Equally shocked, Hunter demands, "Then what do you eat?"
Justin takes the question seriously, and appears to be thinking. "Um, my last foster home gave me cereal sometimes, but no milk 'cause it's expensive, and sometimes I would share with A-A-Andy."
"Andy?" Hunter echoes.
But Brian knows what he means. "The dog, right?" he asks, dreading the answer but predicting it one hundred percent.
Hunter's been in shitty places in life before, but never that.
"Um," says Justin. "Yeah."
"That's fucking it, I'm ordering a pizza," Brian declares, and extends his hand to Hunter for his cell phone. The boy draws his phone out of his pants pocket and hands it to Brian, and when Brian snatches it away and crosses the room to order the pie, Justin looks suddenly nervous.
At Hunter's inquisitive look, Justin explains hastily, "I'm allergic to a lot of stuff, so if I get some sort of allergic reaction and break out in hives and my tongue swells up and I look like I'm suffocating, it's from whatever's on the pizza, and you can just, you know, let me sit there, 'cause it goes away after awhile, okay? Just don't try to give me water, 'cause that just makes it worse."
Hunter gapes.
"Um, yeah, medical attention, got it," Hunter says smugly. "Now get off your ass and let me give you a tour." He gets to his feet, then waits as Justin slowly rises. "Okay. Here's the kitchen. State-of-the-art appliances and all that jazz." As Justin surveys the gorgeous top-of-the-line culinary equipment, Hunter takes the other boy's wrist and begins dragging him in the other direction. "Front door," he narrates. "Security system. Forget to set it and you're fucked."
Justin nods, but can't imagine an occasion on which it would be left up to him to set the alarm. He says at much, and Hunter just shrugs.
"Now, over here's the main living area. Beuatiful Italian leather furniture, whatever. Costs millions of dollars, prob'ly." He smirks. "Spill something on the couch, I dare you."
As Hunter and Justin walk past Brian's bed area, Hunter lowers his voice to accommodate Brian's need for silence while on the phone. "This is his bed. Chances are you'll be seeing some of it in the near future, if you play your cards right."
Justin blushes a rather bizarre shade of pink.
"And… the bathroom," Hunter concludes. "Great place for sex if you ask me. The shower's awesome."
"Do you think about anything besides sex?" Justin asks in amazement, looking at the other boy like he is some sort of alien species that he has never seen before.
Hunter shrugs. "It varies. I used to be a hustler, you know. Sleeping on the streets or with some random guy in the back of his truck or something like that. But it's not just me, it's the whole gay culture. No – that's not fair, really, 'cause I'm sure heteros have clubs too. Fuck, I've been to them. It's just that with us it's a little more about sex. It's not the whole gay community, but it's a damn big part of it."
Justin nods. "Nice speech," he applauds.
At that, Brian closes Hunter's phone and approaches the two boys. "Hey," he says in the closest tone to brightness that he can possibly muster. "I got us the works. Two huge pies with pretty much everything. I figure if you can't gorge yourself to celebrate a new member of the family, what can you do?"
There is an expression on Hunter's face like he's fighting to keep from laughing. "Brian," he says seriously, "the last time I saw you eat more than a salad at one time was, oh, let me think… two Christmases ago."
"Oh, yeah," Brian grins, remembering. "That time we all went to your house – "
" – and Ben was threatening to force-feed us tofurkey," Hunter interrupts, cackling. To Justin, he explains, "Ben's a vegetarian, a Buddhist, and pretty much everything else that could possibly – "
He is interrupted by a soft beeping sound from inside his jeans. Glancing at his beeper, he winces and turns to Brian. The man nods and walks over to the kitchen, where he retrieves a bottle of pills and a glass of ice water.
Hunter draws out several differently-colored pills – Justin is familiar with the tactic of storing different types of pills all in the same bottle, to save space – and takes them, followed by a long sip of water.
At Justin's confused, I'm-not-going-to-ask-but-I'd-really-like-to-know look, Hunter explains, "I have HIV."
Justin nods, not unsympathetically, and replies, "So do I."
