[Seven]
Brian flips on the TV to the early-morning cartoons so he can distract Gus from making a mess on the kitchen floor with the paint set Justin got him for Christmas. Instead of Pokemon or whatever show it is that both Justin and Gus are so equally obsessed with, there's news footage of the fires. Not their fires, though. The first ones, the ones that started up in Canada.
Brian turns up the sound.
"There are four more reported fires in the Toronto area. Our News Ten affiliates up in Canada are telling us that firefighters have been dispatched to all of the fire sites but so far they have not managed to put –"
Brian irritatedly changes the channel.
"- Thousands across the globe are flocking to churches and synagogues –"
He changes the channel again.
"- From an aerial perspective, the fires seem to be honing beacons –"
"- The Bible talks about this as being the end of the world –"
"- Although they cannot be doused, the fires do not need to be contained –"
"- Fires, crop circles, statues of the Virgin Mary crying tears of blood, all fanciful delusions – if not delusions than illusions, illusions set to make us believe in a higher pow –"
Brian switches off the TV. He sits in relative silence until Justin comes into the front room with a glass of orange juice for him. Brian doesn't care for orange juice but he takes it anyway. Their fingers touch.
"What were you watching?" Justin asks, flopping down beside Brian on the couch. He tucks a leg under himself and eyes Brian as he sips his orange juice.
"The news. Gus' show isn't on."
Justin snorts. "Thank God I don't have to sit through Jackie Chan Adventures yet again."
"Yeah, well. They're running bullshit about the fires on practically every station."
Justin tufts fingers through his bangs and yawns. Brian envies his nonchalance, even if it is put on for Gus' sake. The kid's enthusiasm for the fires is freaking them out. He keeps opening up the windows so he can smell the smoke. Every five minutes he asks if Brian or Justin can take him in the truck to go back and see them. It's fucking bizarre. "Shit. Must be serious."
The two of them share a significant look. "Yeah," Brian says.
The corners of Justin's lips dip into a worried frown. The urge to run his thumb over the curves of Justin's jaw, his cheek, the high point of his eyebrow, it's overwhelming.
So Brian does. Justin makes a low, relieved noise deep in his throat, leans into the touch. He opens his mouth to Brian's thumb when it passes over his lips and gently swipes it with his tongue. Teasing. The whole thing should be stupid. It really should be, except for some reason it's not. Brian smiles.
Gus toddles out into the living room. Brian can see a smudge of green paint on his gray t-shirt. He curses softly and drops his hand from Justin's face.
"Dad?"
"Sonnyboy?" He's distracted by Justin moving over into the cove of Brian's chest. Justin drops his head onto Brian's shoulder. They've always been embarrassingly touchy-feely. Nothing new here.
"Can we go into town for lunch?"
"We just ate." Brian's barely incredulous. He strokes the softness of Justin's inner wrist, moves up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and lightly tickles the pale skin hidden underneath with one finger. Justin gives a gasping laugh, moist breath seeping through Brian's shirt and skittering across his neck. Brian shivers.
"Not now. Lunchtime. I want to stop by the bookstore."
Gus can't read all that well. Justin can, so Gus will pick out books, Brian will buy them, and Justin will stay up past Gus' bedtime reading them aloud. It's a good system.
Brian contemplates. It would do Gus good to get away from the fire for an hour or two. "Fine. We'll get pizza or something." Gus beams at his father, and Brian quietly laughs at the excitement on his son's face over a book and pizza. "The things I do for you, honestly…"
"I'm gonna get ready!" Gus proclaims, just about skipping from the room.
"Don't hog all the hot water," Brian shouts after him. There's no response. Still smiling, he turns his head and leans down to kiss Justin.