---

Chapter One

---

After a long week of anticipating the new foster child, Ben, Michael, and Hunter get into the back seat of a taxi. Brian, who is so pissed at not being allowed to go with them that he is probably on his way to the foster center himself by now, so Michael rushes out, "Children's Home of Pittsburgh on Kentucky Avenue."

Once the cab is in motion, Hunter strains his neck back and rests his head as high up on the head cushion as it can go. "Remind me again why Brian couldn't come?"

"Because he'll see the kid tonight at his welcoming party," Ben answers wearily, having already said this about twenty-five times before. "Besides, he isn't going to be living with the kid, isn't he?"

Michael pipes up, "The kid is named Justin."

"That's a stupid name," Hunter remarks.

And Hunter thinks. If he had a real foster sibling, a real live-in best friend, what would he want him to say at this moment? Would he be sarcastic? Not all of us have hustler names like you, James. Witty? No stupider than "Hunter". Dramatic? Well, I kept the name my mom and dad gave me, unlike some of us.

Definitely sarcastic. The other two are lame.

Michael sighs. "Look, Hunter, I just need you to – we just wanted to say – I think it's important that you – "

Ben lays a hand on his arm. "Would you like me to take over?" he suggests. At Michael's nod, Ben turns to Hunter, carefully choosing his next words. "Listen. If we are going to have another child living with us, it is important that you, at least in the beginning, are on your best behavior."

"No," Hunter interrupts.

"Let me finish," Ben says with a sigh. "We don't want to make him uncomfortable. That means not talking about dying, not talking about hustling, not doing either of the above, not bringing tricks home… I mean, you'll be sharing a room with him! You'll have to just come up with some ground rules for the two of you, and also for yourself."

Hunter looks pissed. "That's lying," he snaps. "I don't want him to think we're this perfectly conservative-with-some-homosexual-content-added-in family. As a family, you guys and me and Brian and all the other guys – we do stuff other families don't. And we have to deal with stuff other families don't. Most families don't have drugs and booze and gay clubs in their lifestyle. Or former hustlers, or HIV, or kids with, like, six parents, or anything. I think it's important that the kid – that Justin – knows that we aren't like those boring families. We're different. There's no point in lying and acting like we aren't."

Michael and Ben consider it for a moment.

"But what if our lifestyle makes him uncomfortable?" Michael asks.

Ben answers, his voice firm. "Then he isn't right for us. Hunter's right. We shouldn't lie, but we should help him adjust first. Let him know what he's in for. If he doesn't like it, he can go back to the center."

"So we see him, we get him in the car – probably Brian's, 'cause we know he'll show up at the center provided he's not out fucking someone at –" Michael checks his watch "– ten in the morning. Then what? We start lecturing him on safe sex and telling him to be in from Babylon before two or we take away his fake ID?"

Hunter brightens. "Can I have a fake ID too?"

"I'm being sarcastic," Michael informs him.

Ben looks out the window. "We're a block away," he announces, and glances through the divider at the driver. The meter reads five dollars and sixty cents. "We'll get out here," he says, handing the driver seven dollars. Michael swings his door open and exits, followed by Ben and Hunter.

"Justin," Hunter murmurs to himself. "How old is he?"

"He'll be sixteen soon," Ben replies. "Birthday unknown, but they gave him an approximate date of birth that they all consider his birthday."

Hunter whistles. "You really did your research." He pauses, then asks casually, "Is he gay?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Michael grumbles, annoyed at being left out of the Q and A.

"Well, he's somewhat hot…"

Ben groans. "Playing for both teams now, Hunter?"

"Only on special occasions," replies the former hustler playfully. "Such as – "

"Brian!" chorus Michael and Ben, sounding like teenagers exposing their friend's secret crush. "And now Justin," Ben continues mournfully. "Hunter, I'm warning you, if you make any advances towards this kid, it will not be tolerated. Tricks are fine. Girlfriends, boyfriends – they're all fine. But if everything goes well, Justin will be your brother. Not fine. Are we clear?"

Hunter rolls his eyes. "Jeez, no need to lecture me," he mumbles. Then, looking up, he sees an enormous, intimidating building before him. "Is this it?" he asks.

"Yep," replies Michael with a tiny bounce in his step. "This is cool. We're going to be dads. Again."

"For the third time, for you," Ben teases. "I guess that makes you three times as old as Brian."

A figure standing behind his sleek new car steps out and teases, "Yeah, Mikey, I guess it does."

Michael hisses softly. "What are you doing here?" he demands.

Brian shrugged. "Came to see the kid and drive you home, I guess. Thought the dads and the little boys should have some time to chat before the Welcoming Committee gets ahold of the newcomer. What's his name again?"

"Justin," chorus the three Novotny-Bruckners. "Does this make him an honorary ex-trick, since you forgot his name already?" Ben inquires sweetly.

Brian scoffs. "Please. I'm not into chicken." He gestures toward the door of the foster center. "Shall we?"

With great trepidation, the four men enter.