Justin's Apartment – Ten Minutes Later
Justin lay in bed, exhausted. His eyes were closed but he found himself unable to sleep. His mind was simply whirling with way too many vivid emotions and memories of the day's events to allow him to sleep, despite his urgent need to do so.
The most unforgettable part of his day, however, was the event that occurred last. He couldn't help smiling softly as thoughts of Brian floated back to him. Tonight, he had finally seen the tender, gentle side of Brian again that he had remembered from before when they had been together at his loft and the diner; the side that actually appeared genuine and heartfelt. Justin knew instinctively that it was a side rarely seen by others – except for him, he was certain the proud, self-assured man only allowed himself to be that open with his son – and it helped to partly explain Brian's actions the other day at the diner. What Brian had said had hurt – no question about that, and it still gave Justin a small degree of pain still as he thought about it – but at least now he had an explanation for it, and Brian's words tonight rang strongly with the flavor of truth. Brian could have just let him walk away tonight, out of his life, if that was what he had really wanted. But he hadn't done that – he had come after him to explain his actions to him and try to make things right. Justin was so relieved and glad that he had. He hadn't realized how much the situation was weighing on his mind until he had felt the burden being lifted from his shoulders. Maybe now he could devote his attention fully to the second day of the competition tomorrow; something told him that the frantic pace and stress of today's start to the contest was just a preamble to what was to come.
The ringing of his cell phone startled him out of his jumbled thoughts as he groped in the darkness for the small object. He glanced over at the illuminated clock – 11:30 p.m. He groaned slightly – he hadn't realized how late it was getting to be – he HAD to get some sleep or he would be in no shape tomorrow to compete the way he needed to. He hadn't realized how much time he had spent with Brian on the front stoop a little while ago. Who would be calling him now? He figured Emmett would have been in bed by now, but maybe he had found so many "fans" at the expo's bar downtown, he had stayed out later than he should have. He really needed his business partner wide awake and alert tomorrow, though; he was going to need his assistant for all types of duties regarding his rather complicated cake design that would be starting to take shape tomorrow.
"Hello?" he murmured sleepily as he flipped the phone open and brought it up to his mouth.
"Hey," came the soft drawl; Justin's heart instantly sped up at the familiar sound of that sexy, baritone voice.
"I could have sworn I just saw you a little while ago," Justin teased him softly. He couldn't imagine what Brian had forgotten to mention when he had seen him outside. What was so important, anyway, that it couldn't keep until tomorrow? "Did you forget something?"
As he drove home in the 'Vette, Brian smiled at the drowsy sound of his Doughboy's voice; he had warred with himself over calling Justin – he knew how exhausted he was – and he felt guilty about calling him, but he found that he couldn't help it; he had to hear his voice one more time…..
"No," Brian admitted quietly; Justin could tell by the sound of his voice that he didn't seem perturbed – or concerned – about anything, to his relief. His voice sounded a little odd, though – almost quieter than normal.
"I…..know you need to get some sleep," Brian continued. "Did I wake you?" he asked suddenly. Shit – you idiot – What do YOU think? You probably woke him up…..
"No," Justin quickly assured him. "I was a little too wound up yet to go to sleep," he admitted to Brian's relief.
Yeah….I know the feeling, Brian thought. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting to sleep too soon after HE got home, either….his mind would no doubt be too occupied by the wonderful blond he had just left on his front apartment stoop; the man he desperately wanted to have back in his OWN bed soon. Since the last – actually, the only time they had been together, he corrected himself - he had found himself craving the man's body, lips and his touch again; hell, he wanted all of him again – over and over. "I….just wanted to ask if you needed someone to pick you up tomorrow for the competition," Brian told him.
He figured Honeycutt would likely be picking Justin up, since they were competing together as a team, but he had to have SOME logical reason for calling Justin so soon after they had parted. He had already blown his cover tonight as the non-caring, indifferent, fuck-em-once and leave-em kind of man; it wouldn't do now to tell the blond that he had called simply because he wanted to hear his voice again.
Justin pondered why Brian was really calling; surely he knew Emmett would be picking him up in the morning. Too tired to really analyze the reason why, however, he just decided to count himself lucky that he yet another opportunity tonight to speak with the man who he constantly found himself thinking about. There would hopefully be other chances tomorrow to see him during his breaks at the competition, as he reminded himself that Brian had advised him he was planning on attending the entire session.
"Thanks for offering," Justin told him softly, finding himself disappointed that he couldn't take Brian up on his offer; he would have loved to have seen him again before the competition resumed – it probably would have done wonders for his self-confidence. "But Em's supposed to come and pick me up in the van around 11:00 tomorrow. He's got some of our additional supplies for my design in the van, anyway."
"Oh," Brian answered him; Justin thought he possibly sounded disappointed, too, a fact that made him feel happy, actually; it was nice to know that Brian really did want to see him again so soon.
"Yeah….that makes sense," Brian admitted. Damn…I figured as much. "Well, then….I'll guess I'll just see you at the Expo Center later. I think Gus and Lindsey are coming down again, too….Gus is really fascinated by all the commotion, and he should really get a kick out of what everyone designs tomorrow; as long as he doesn't try to come down on the stage and eat it, too."
Justin chuckled, noticing again that whenever Brian talked about Gus, the tone of his voice was entirely different. His voice sounded not only tender, but also proud and more animated. Justin decided that anyone who loved his son as much as Brian did had a bigger heart than others realized; hopefully, Brian's heart was big enough to include him as well.
"That's great," Justin told him sincerely. "I'll have my own special cheering section, then. It'll be nice to look out into the crowd and see some smiling faces for encouragement. I have a feeling I'll be nervous as hell tomorrow," he admitted a little self-consciously. He had been so caught up in learning the routine today that he hadn't really had time to understand the enormity of what he was involved in; he had a feeling that tomorrow it would all start to sink in. In fact, as he pondered that fact, his stomach suddenly felt like a flock of butterflies were flying around inside of it.
He heard Brian emit a type of indignant huff on the phone before he said, "You'll be fine, Doughboy," he insisted. "They won't fucking know what hit them," he added firmly. "Don't start doubting yourself, Justin….you're incredibly talented."
Justin flushed at the unexpected compliment, so rare coming from this man who routinely and expertly controlled a multi-million advertising business. His stomach still felt like it was tied into a thousand knots, but just the sound of the strong conviction pouring from Brian made him feel like maybe he could just come out on top when the contest was over. "Thanks," he murmured. "That means a lot to me."
Brian smiled. Score one for me, he thought, although he really DID mean it. He had no doubt Justin could win. He suddenly realized how stupid it had been to even think about pushing the odds in Justin's favor; Justin didn't need the extra help and he would have been furious if Brian had managed to pull off his subterfuge. He was thankful, therefore, that he hadn't succeeded. "Well….that's all I wanted," he said softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, then…...Later."
Justin smiled at the simple parting words. "Later," he whispered back as he slowly closed the phone. Sighing in anticipation of everything to come tomorrow, he lay back on the bed and, after several minutes more, finally managed to drift off to dream of a particularly enigmatic, passionate dark-haired man who continued to amaze and to a certain degree, mystify him.
Next Day – Mid-Morning
Justin sat on the front porch stoop, waiting somewhat anxiously for Emmett to arrive. It wasn't yet 11:00, but Justin was eager to get started. As soon as he had woken up this morning, he found himself sketching some quick changes to his design. They were minor, but ever since he had come up with the idea itself, his mind had been constantly analyzing every nuance of the design for any possible ways to make it even better.
As he grabbed a bowl of cereal this morning, a flash of inspiration had hit him and he had hurried to jot it down. He had even given Emmett a quick call, luckily catching him at the shop, to ask him to bring a couple of additional items with him that he would need for the minor revisions. Now that he felt confident that his design would indeed be transferrable to the actual cake, he was eager to get to the Expo Center and get started. He couldn't wait to see his design take shape, although he was still somewhat worried about the reaction he would get. He was fairly certain that this particular concept had never been done before, at least on a nationally-televised competition. As he had told his partner yesterday when he had showed it to him, he felt it was either going to be a big hit or he was going to fall flat on his face. Only time – and the judges' reaction to it – would tell which outcome would result.
He looked up from the walkway as a short toot sounded and Emmett pulled up to the curb with the van. Justin smirked as his always-flamboyant partner opened the door and characteristically came rushing up to him dressed in a bright, rayon lime green and navy shirt, partially opened at the collar, and a pair of flared navy blue pants with a silver link belt made out of circles.
Justin felt certain that if Emmett hadn't needed to wear his Cakes of Art cap, he would have completed the hippie-inspired outfit by donning a matching beret to go with it. He did notice that Emmett had somehow located a silver necklace with the peace sign on it to accentuate his 60's look. Leave it to Em to steal the show, Justin thought to himself bemused, just before his friend eagerly bent over to hug him briefly and give him a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, Baby!" he said animately. "Ready for Round 2?"
Justin noticed that his partner seemed extremely excited to return to the competition; he had a feeling the other man was soaking up all of his temporary celebrity quite enthusiastically. Emmett was made to be a showman. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Justin told him, smiling, as he stood up to stand next to his friend. "Everything packed and ready to go?"
Emmett nodded as he placed an arm around his friend's shoulders. "All set, Master Cake Designer," he joked. "Just waiting for your creative touch. Ready to work your magic today?"
Justin smiled. "Let's do it, Partner," he told his friend, as the two of them walked purposefully to their van. It was time for Day 2 of their once-in-a-lifetime adventure.
Expo Center – Downtown Pittsburgh
As Justin and Emmett carried a couple of hard, plastic crates filled with a few additional supplies toward the stage, you could feel the energy emanating from the arena. All types of cables were strung around the perimeter of the temporary kitchens, and banks of rounded, black lights were lit up surrounding the entire stage, with Culinary Channel personnel running around left and right, some with microphones and others with paperwork attached to clipboards.
"Geez…..would you look at all the people?" Emmett marveled as he shook his head. Justin had to agree; there seemed to be twice as many people onstage as yesterday, no doubt due to the actual design part of the competition beginning today. Yesterday had simply been the preliminary element of the contest; today would be the actual start of seeing their ideas come to life. As they slowly carried their heavy crates back to their designated design area, Justin also observed a steady stream of spectators flowing into the seats below. He tried briefly to search for Brian, Lindsey, and Gus, but there were so many people quickly surging in, there was no way to find them easily.
He sighed a little in disappointment, mainly because he had hoped to find Brian there; just knowing he was down there in support of his efforts would have made the churning in his stomach abate just a bit and bolster his courage somewhat.
"You okay, Sweetie?" Em asked him as he placed his crate down on a nearby counter, noticing the look of disappointment on his partner's face. "Anything wrong?"
Justin placed his own box of supplies down next to Em's. Should he tell him what had happened last night, and why he looked disappointed? He knew his friend wasn't too convinced that Brian really cared about him, especially after what he had said about him in front of his friends at the diner. Should he tell him that he and Brian had reached an understanding last night?
He hastily decided that perhaps now was not the best to divulge that information to his friend, whose help was going to be greatly needed for the next few days. There would be time for revelations afterward, after the contest had been decided once and for all. He tried to smile reassuringly at Emmett instead. "I'm fine, Em, really. Just nervous, I guess." It WAS partially the truth, at least; as the room began to virtually hum with electric excitement, he was getting nervous as hell about performing in front of a live studio audience and quite possibly in front of millions of television viewers. Did he really have the wherewithal to pull this off? He certainly hoped so – at the very least, he was going to give it his best shot. If they didn't win, it wouldn't be because Justin didn't put his heart and soul into it.
Em seemed to accept that explanation as he nodded his understanding. "Well, that certainly makes sense," he said empathetically. He looked around the room at all the hustle and bustle going on. "This place is a fucking three-ring circus," he muttered. "Oh, look!" he suddenly emitted an excited, shrill cry. "There's Paul Winslow!" He leaned down to whisper confidentially in Justin's ear as he said, "I know the man's probably a total asshole, but he's still a sexy asshole!"
Justin rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Well, that counts for something, I guess," he teased. "Maybe later he'll let you rub his suntan lotion on that perfect body of his," he said sarcastically. From what he could tell so far, the man certainly had a high enough opinion of himself. "He certainly comes across as the greasy type," he quipped. He knew he was going to have to eventually endure the man's pompous company once more, probably several times more, before the competition was finally over. Hopefully, though, Emmett could run interference for him most of the time….He figured he was going to be extremely pressed for time over the next two days, getting his intricate design transferred from paper to edible form. And considering the cake had motion in it, he knew he would need all the time he could get.
Emmett laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess I'd have to agree…too much grease, not enough other ingredients," he cracked as the two partners shared a mutual smile at their joke. Their repartee was interrupted by the sound of someone speaking on an overhead doing a countdown to the start of Day 2 of the competition. A male voice intoned, "10…9…8…7…6…5..4..3..2..1," before they noticed a man wearing headphones motion to Winslow to begin speaking.
Sure enough, as soon as the man's hand dropped, they heard the blond, Nordic-looking host begin to address the audience, now at almost full capacity. "Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen, and welcome to Day 2 of the Wedding Cake Wars!" The crowd burst into applause at the prompting of a man standing offstage guiding their behavior. As soon as he indicated they were to stop, they all ceased their clapping right on cue.
Justin thought, so much for spontaneity, as their host continued. "Today starts the beginning of the exciting design phase. Each team has been assigned a particular theme that they must adhere to in order to continue in the competition. I will be visiting with each team to determine their progress so far, and the judges will be making rounds throughout today as well to study each team's creativity and ability to turn their design into reality. Today, the real competition begins, Ladies and Gentlemen – let the contest begin!"
All the contestants began to scurry around their design areas as the buzzer promptly sounded overhead, signaling the start of Day 2 of the competition, and the giant, red-numbered clock began its five-hour countdown.
Justin glanced at the clock; five hours sounded like a lot of time to the lay person, but to him it didn't seem like nearly enough. It had been fairly routine to get the actual cakes baked yesterday, although it was also a little nerve wracking using an unfamiliar stove as he kept his fingers crossed that nothing would go wrong until the three cake tiers came out of the oven. That part had proceeded smoothly enough, thankfully. Now, however, the real – and most difficult work – was about to begin.
As they donned their matching aprons and caps, Emmett asked his partner, "What first, Baby? You're steering the boat here."
Justin twisted his face at the irony. "Very appropriate, partner. Can you start mixing up the Rice Krispie mixture for the waves? I think we'd better concentrate on the water part first." He was intending to place his schooner on the base of the cake as if it were rocking back and forth in the churning waves; but he needed to add the additional layers of Rice Krispie treat mix to form the actual water element; once they were attached to the bottom tier of the prepared cake, he would need to use his icing sprayer to actually paint the various shades of blue, green and white on the fondant-covered Rice Krispies to simulate waves of water with white, foamy crests.
"You got it," Emmett confirmed, nodding. "I always did like to play with my food," he added, winking, eliciting a chuckle from the blond. Justin watched him don his apron and cap before he walked over to one of their crates and pulled out two large boxes of Rice Krispies and several packages of miniature marshmallows. Deciding that would undoubtedly keep Emmett busy for at least an hour, he turned to concentrate on prepping the second layer of his cake for the actual schooner as his partner walked over to their assigned refrigerator to get some butter.
While the large sheet cake would apparently be large enough for the ship, it was still going to require having to pare it down in preparation for shaping it into a replica of the 17th-century ships that had been favored by pirates on the open seas. Attaching the ship eventually to the bottom tier of waves, also, was going to be terribly tricky to do, since the goal would be to have it moving back and forth in the water. That would definitely involve using several , rather large wooden dowels. He would also need some smaller-sized dowels for the three masts that would be adorning the ship on the top. He silently thanked the rules committee of the contest for allowing the competitors to use up to 25% of non-edible components for their cake; if he had had to use all edible parts for his cake, there would have really been no way to truly make his project come to life the way he hoped it would. Of course, it still was open to interpretation how receptive the judges – and the public – would be to his finished project.
The studio audience would be allowed to cast a vote for their favorite just before the competition ended tomorrow; their vote would account for 25% of the final tally toward the winning submission. It was important, then, that not only the contestants win the favor of the judges, but also obtain popular support as well. How would the public react to his cake design? Justin wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to change anything about it now, though – he was determined to see his idea through to the very end.
From their vantage point in the audience, Brian watched intently from his center seat as the sole subject of his interest scurried around in preparation for the initial steps in making his cake creation come to fruition. After seeing Justin's two other creations – the Dimetrodon that his son had simply adored, and the Captain Astro cake that Mikey had been in awe of – he was dying to find out what his own little masterful Doughboy had come up with THIS time. Whatever it was, Brian had no doubt it would top everyone else's down there – it was a foregone conclusion as far as HE was concerned.
"Daddy!" his heart warmed as he heard a familiar-sounding voice chirp from the side of his aisle; he looked over and smiled broadly at the sight of Lindsey, his son being carried in her arms, slowly scooting sideways in front of other audience members to reach the two empty seats that Brian had held reserved for them.
"Hey, Sonny Boy!" Brian whispered tenderly. "How's my little man?" Brian noted with amusement that Gus was still clutching the toy that had started his father on an unexpected, wild ride with a certain blond dynamo that was currently front and center on stage and in his every waking – and sleeping - thoughts. He had never imagined how happy he would be to get into a fracas over a toy dinosaur in his life, but now he was thanking his lucky stars that he HAD…...
"Hi, Daddy!" the little boy repeated excitedly; as Lindsey finally managed to sit down with Gus on her lap, the little boy leaned over to give his father a rather sloppy kiss on the cheek; Brian couldn't help beaming at the action in spite of himself. "Where's Jus'n?" he asked immediately, as he turned his head toward the brightly-lit stage. His eyes shone with a typical child's curiosity as he searched the people hurrying around for the familiar, blond-haired head and blue-eyes of his favorite artist.
Since Justin had spent time playing with him, and had been responsible for his most favorite toy – not to mention the fantastic cake he had made – Gus had firmly decided that Justin would make a heck of a substitute daddy; that is, when his real daddy wasn't around. Or even when he WAS – he didn't see why he couldn't have TWO daddies – if one was good, two would be even BETTER.
Brian leaned close to his son and pointed over to the left side of the stage, where Justin was hunched over his team's assigned workspace, apparently making some minor changes to his preliminary sketch. "He's over there, Gus," he told his son, who, to Brian's amusement, immediately shouted out loudly, "Hi, Jus'n‼"
Several nearby spectators looked over curiously at the unexpected outburst to determine the source, either fixing the pair with titters of patient understanding or glares over the inconsiderateness. Brian merely chuckled at his son's faux pas as Lindsey blushed a little in embarrassment and softly tried to shush her son, who merely looked at her in confusion over all the fuss.
As Brian turned back to peer at the stage, however, he was rewarded with a bright smile from the object of their scrutiny, who had apparently had no problem hearing Gus' greeting, either. Justin beamed back at the little boy and actually waved at him, to Gus' delight; his son, noticing the action, waved back and, to Brian's slight surprise, blew him a kiss.
Give him one for me, too, Sonny Boy, Brian couldn't help thinking as his and Justin's eyes locked for a brief moment before Justin smiled softly once more and returned to his work. "I want to see his cake," Gus said, his lips turning under in a little pout as he squirmed restlessly in his mother's lap to be set free.
Lindsey sighed; it was just the beginning of the day's competition, and she dearly wanted to see how Justin did today. If Gus was already getting antsy, however, it was going to be a long day. "You can't just yet, Sweetie," she told her son soothingly in a low voice, careful not to disturb the watchful eyes of others studiously observing – and listening to – the events occurring on stage. "They just got started - I promise when it's all done, you will get to see ALL of the cakes, okay? Especially Justin's." The host, Paul Winslow, had mentioned at the beginning of the competition yesterday that ALL of the designers' cakes would be on public display immediately after the contest, as well as on Saturday, so everyone could see and admire their imagery and creative talent.
Brian stole one more quick glance over at his son, who was pouting slightly in disappointment; he grinned softly at his son's downturned face. "It's okay, Sonny Boy," he said soothingly. "I promise when this is all over I'll take you down there personally to see Justin's cake, okay?"
Gus pondered that statement, deciding at last that his father wouldn't lie to him. He finally nodded his head slowly, his face lighting up somewhat at his father's solemn promise. "Okay, Daddy," he answered congenially enough. "But can I have some cotton candy?"
Brian chuckled softly at his son's ploy; little charmer…..he learned well, he thought ironically with just a hint of pride. Lindsey rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile with her hand as Brian looked over at her knowingly. She nodded slightly as Brian told his son, "Okay, Gus….but you'll have to wait just a little while, okay?" Brian didn't want to miss one second of gazing on the blond dynamo intensely studying his latest design down on the stage. Brian found that he simply couldn't take his eyes off the other man; his blond hair shone radiantly under the hot, bright spotlights and to Brian the man stood out like a shining beacon among all the other contestants. He was relieved when it appeared the promise he gave his son apparently satisfied him; he nodded and proceeded to play with his toy dinosaur to occupy his wait. Brian knew, however, that he would only be able to avoid fufilling his son's request for a while; hopefully, he could get his son to wait until Justin was allowed to take a break. Until then, he kept his eyes fixed on the blond man onstage who was concentrated strictly on his work. Go get 'em, Doughboy, Brian silently encouraged him.
Time slowly continued as Brian kept his eyes peeled on the little Doughboy hunched over his design table; finally, he heard the host announcing the current status of the contest. "Four more hours, Ladies and Gentlemen! You should all be starting to prepare your cake by now…..keep in mind, the judges will be walking around to study your preliminary creations to make sure you are abiding by the rules and following your assigned themes."
The blond, tanned, oh-so-smooth host with not a hair out of place began to walk slowly toward the first pair of designers, the Lone Star Treats team. "Let's see how the first pair of contestants are doing," he stated to the audience as he spoke into the mike attached to his lapel. "This is the team Lone Star Treats from Texas, appropriately," he intoned, smiling almost a little TOO easily. "They have been assigned the theme of romance. Let's see what they've come up with, shall we?"
To Justin, who glanced over briefly at their host in curiosity, the man seemed to have the personality of a droid rather than a human being – the man's speech was just TOO smooth and rolled a little TOO easily off the tongue, as if he had rehearsed it so often he was now totally bored with the whole event. He watched for a few seconds longer as the panel of four judges walked up next to the host and stood there studying the pair of men from Team # 1 working diligently on their design.
Justin shuddered slightly; if that greasy man came up to their kitchen, and brought his quartet of judges with him, he was going to be extremely nervous. And at this juncture, no matter how much the man might want to know what he was up to, he was only going to get limited information about his idea from HIM. He would be willing to describe the schooner he was making, and the waves it would be resting upon, but as far as the actual characters, he wasn't divulging anything. He wanted that part to be a last-minute surprise. He figured it was going to cause enough controversy without revealing it initially.
"I'm glad we're #8," he said softly to Emmett, who was slowly stirring a large pile of the sticky, Rice Krispie confection in a huge pot on their commercial-grade stove. With the size of the ship, they were going to need a fairly substantial amount of mixture to mold to the bottom layer of the design for the undulating waves where the ship would be cradled as it rocked back and forth. "I'm not looking forward to our turn with Mr. Robo Host and his quartet from the Inquisition."
Emmett snickered as he nodded; his hand was quickly getting exhausted from the surprisingly strong effort he was having to make as he tried to stir the quickly-stiffening concoction in his pot. "Yeah…I think if any of those judges cracked a smile, the earth would open up and swallow them."
Justin smirked in agreement, considering the description extremely accurate; he noticed that the judges all wore identical, dour, stern expressions as they stood close to the pair of contestants and wrote notes down on a clipboard anchored on their arms. He watched nervously as the judges conferred among themselves; he also noticed with some trepidation that the judges were apparently being taped and overheard while they spoke.
If his experience at watching similar shows was any indication, these so-called "private conversations" would no doubt wind up at some point as highlighted features of the televised version; whether they would actually show up tomorrow on television before the finale, or later during a follow-up show, was unclear. But he had no misconceptions that anything he, Emmett, OR the judges said wouldn't be recorded and played back at some point for the television audience. He made a mental note to be careful about what he did – or didn't – say to either the host or the judges once they made their way over to their table.
Justin finished making a minor change to his sketch before he put his pencil down to join Emmett. "Need me to spell you?" he asked his friend; he knew from previous experience how difficult it could be to stir the Rice Krispies mixture once it had set a little further, and he had noticed Emmett stopping periodically to shake his hand, apparently to get some of the feeling back into it.
Emmett considered the request, but then shook his head. "It's okay, Baby…..I got it." He knew how easily Justin's hand would be affected if it used it too much; he considered the slight amount of discomfort he was experiencing of little consequence considering what the same type of exercise would do to his partner. They would need Justin's expertise greatly in the next couple of days for the actual design and creation; the least he could do was help prepare for the more complex work and keep his friend's hand from stiffening up so badly that he would be unable to work. That wouldn't do either one of them any good.
Justin smiled at him gratefully but didn't call Emmett out on his decision that he keep going; both of them knew exactly why Emmett was declining Justin's offer of assistance, and Justin was extremely grateful for his refusal. He knew that as much as he was willing to help with the stirring, if he DID do it, his hand would be in pain and near agony in no time. They both knew it was vital that Justin be able to use both of his hands for the intricate design work that was going to be needed shortly.
He nodded slightly in grateful understanding. "Well, if you're sure…..I think I'll work on the ship, then," he decided, pretending that both of them didn't know exactly what was going on. "Once we get the waves done, that will be the next step anyway. Let me know when it's ready and cooled off enough, and I'll put the ship creation on hold for a while. We need to get those waves molded while it's pliable so I can get the fondant on it soon as possible." Justin knew that once he started painting the fondant-covered waves with the icing paint, it would take at least 15 minutes for the quick-drying material to dry enough for him to be able to start anchoring the waves to the bottom cake base.
"You got it, Baby," Emmett told him, giving him a short tip of his cap to him before he turned back to his work. Justin was so glad that Emmett was his partner; the man was not only a lot of fun, he never complained about whatever task Justin asked him to do, no matter HOW trivial or mundane it was. Both of them knew if they were to be successful, they had to work together as a team. If they couldn't, it wouldn't matter HOW talented Justin was.
Thirty Minutes Later
"It's 1:30, Contestants! 1:30! You have exactly three and a half hours left! Make the most of it!" Winslow urged the contestants as he faced the cameras and studio audience. "There will be a short break of fifteen minutes at 2:00 p.m.," he advised the teams. Justin noticed with a degree of dread that the man and his team of judges were getting ever closer to their design area; they were currently speaking to the British team, Scrumptious Buns, located two kitchens from theirs, so it was just a matter of time before the group arrived at their kitchen.
"Don't look now, but we're about to be on Candid Camera," Justin muttered to his friend, who was presently trying to hold a large, flattened square of the Rice Krispie confection steady on the table while Justin used a cutting knife to shape the waves that would soon be covered with fondant and painted various shades of blue, sea green, and white.
"Oh, goodie," Emmett said sarcastically; his response actually surprised Justin, who knew his friend had been enamored of the suave host earlier; apparently Emmett was quickly seeing right through the blond surfer-type with his pasted-on smile. "At least I'll be on camera, though," he added, his face brightening at the thought. After all, he hadn't spent such a prolonged period of time picking out his outfit at Torso NOT to be able to show it off….
Justin shook his head in amusement as he quickly returned to his task; he had to get the mixture cut out into the several sizes of waves quickly before it threatened to dry out and be too rigid to work with. "Hold that corner a little more firmly," he asked his partner, who obediently turned his attention back to the pebbly mixture and pressed down on the corner of it with a cloth as Justin slowly cut the curvy shape of a larger wave out and separated it from the rest of the large square.
He finally stood up straight after a couple of minutes and leaned backward to stretch out his quickly aching back. He grunted in displeasure at the stiffness. "Shit – I shouldn't have leaned over for so long – my back is fucking killing me," he told his friend. "I'm glad it's close to break time – I definitely need to get some circulation back into my legs and back."
Luckily, shortly after he commented on it, a harsh-sounding buzzer sounded loudly overhead as the host confirmed it was 2:00 p.m. and the commencement of their 15-minute break. "Thank God," Justin muttered; he carefully wrapped the Rice Krispie waves in cellophane wrap to keep them pliable and put his cutting tool down on the table before he walked over to their small, single tub sink and ran his sticky hands under the water with some soap to clean them. Briefly wiping his hands on his apron, he untied the fabric and placed it down nearby on the counter along with his cap before he slowly shuffled off to the side of the stage to hopefully snag something to drink; his mouth was dry as sawdust after concentrating for the past couple of hours on his work.
As he approached the steps near the side of the stage, his heart began to beat a little faster as he saw two similar-looking brunet heads staring at him with almost identical grins. Like father, like son, he thought tenderly as he smiled back at the two males waiting for him.
As Brian waited for Justin to exit the competition area, he felt his son fidgeting restlessly in his arms; he had decided for the sake of security it would be wise to restrain Gus, for fear the boy would bolt onto the stage and make good on his wish to check out all the cakes and have a taste of them. Don't worry, Sonny Boy – if all goes well, soon you'll get a taste of the Doughboy's cake and I'LL get a "taste" again of the Doughboy himself…..
"Jus'n!" Gus called out as Justin approached them, grinning.
"Hey, Buddy! How have you been? I see you're taking good care of Dino…..It's good to see you're being such a good dad," he told the boy, who beamed at the compliment. Justin looked up softly at the boy's father. "I'm glad you're here," he told Brian as he let out an involuntary yawn suddenly.
Brian grinned. "Yeah, I can see how stimulating my presence is to you," he kidded him as Justin blushed slightly.
"I'm sorry," the blond told him apologetically. "I didn't sleep as well last night as I hoped I would," he admitted. Too many things going on and too many thoughts spent dwelling on YOU….
Gus held out a paper cup with a straw sticking out of it. "Daddy thought you might be thirsty, Jus'n," he told the artist. Here."
"Thanks, Buddy," Justin told Gus, but his eyes were locked onto his father's, who stared back at him intensely with an emotion Justin couldn't quite decipher. "I AM pretty thirsty, all right," he told them as he took a large sip from the straw and sighed. "That hit the spot," he said. "My throat felt like it was made out of sandpaper."
Brian looked around and noticed a small collection of portable, wooden tables and chairs scattered near the concession area close by. "Would you like to sit down with us for a few minutes?" he asked Justin, who quickly nodded. The blond noticed with amusement that Brian had a cone of cotton candy wedged into the fingers of his right hand as he handed it to Gus, who promptly pulled a large piece off and stuffed it in his mouth.
"Definitely," Justin told them as they walked over to one of the empty, round tables and sat down.; he sighed in contentment as he commandeered one of the chairs and was finally able to get off his feet. "Ah, that feels SO good," he told them. "I've been on my feet non-stop for the past couple of hours. I'm going to have to get me some of those gel inserts to go in my sneakers – I don't know how Debbie at the diner does it." He suddenly realized they were missing someone. "Where's Lindsey, by the way?" He knew he had seen her earlier out in the audience with Gus and Brian.
"She had to go down to the art gallery to keep some important appointment," Brian told him. "She asked me if I would mind keeping an eye on Sonny Boy until she got back – Gus kind of insisted, anyway," he said, smirking. Truth be told, Gus had put up such a fuss about leaving the show – and especially Justin's side – that they had decided to avoid any more outbursts around the others in the audience and just let him stay with Brian. Brian, actually, really didn't mind – he would never really admit it out loud, but he always enjoyed spending time with his son, who never failed to lift his spirits. As he looked over at Justin, however, he decided he now had TWO males that lifted his spirits. Having both of them together with him at the same time, then, was a double bonus.
"Yeah," Gus chimed in. "I wanted to stay…Dino, too," he added, holding up his charge for emphasis. Justin chuckled softly at his statement as he looked over at Brian, his blue eyes twinkling. "Well, I'm glad you did," Justin told him tenderly. "I'm glad all THREE of you decided to stay."
From his chair opposite Justin's, Brian's eyes met his and reflected the same sort of emotion that Justin's did.
As the buzzer loudly sounded again to signal the end of his break and interrupted his thoughts, Justin slowly rose with reluctance to his feet, dreading having to stand on his feet again or the next three hours, and also knowing that his and Emmett's "time in the spotlight" was fast at hand; he was definitely not looking forward to being interviewed by that conceited, perfectly coiffed man, nor having his ideas questioned by the judges. But he knew both of them were inevitable. "Well, I'd better get back," he told his companions. "Thanks again for the drink, Buddy," he told Gus as he affectionately ruffled his soft, brown hair, but his gaze was pointed, instead, at the little boy's father as he spoke.
Brian twisted his mouth in a sort of tender smile as he promised, "We'll be here when you get finished today; knock 'em dead, Doughboy."
Justin stood there for a couple of seconds, smiling as his body flushed with pleasure at the thought of Brian waiting for him and his encouraging words. "I'll see you later," he told the brunet. "Bye, Big Guy," he told Gus, as he reached over and gave the little boy a kiss as he sat contented on one of the chairs, still munching away on his cotton candy.
"What about Daddy?" Gus said, pointing his Dino-occupied hand over at his father.
Justin's eyebrows narrowed slightly in confusion. What ABOUT Brian?
"Yeah, Jus'n…..what about Daddy?" Brian said innocently, tapping his index finger against his cheek a few times in explanation.
Justin blushed slightly now that he understood. He hesitated slightly before he leaned over and placed a quick kiss on Brian's cheek, also. As he stood up and looked at father and son for a brief moment, Gus smiled and waved back at him with his free hand in a sort of circular motion as Brian smirked back at him with a sort of smug look on his face.
Justin rolled his eyes at the brunet before he waved back at Gus and hurried back to the stage, suddenly feeling certain that his burden was going to be just a little lighter the rest of the afternoon….