For Justin, the world had become much more surreal than he ever imagined it could be. Cleo was growing (of course); in fact, she'd doubled in size in the last two weeks alone, and that simple fact had sent Justin's world to spinning on a different axis. She was pushing into his abdomen, putting pressure on his bladder, which sent him running to the bathroom what seemed like a million times a day. Another unfortunate side effect of her growth spurt was a shift in his center of gravity, so he sometimes had difficulty maintaining his balance. On top of that, he constantly struggled to find a comfortable position when sitting or lying down and was desperately afraid that he'd develop stretch marks.
One positive side effect was, ironically, being woken up frequently during the night by his now overactive bladder, for this caused him to remember his dreams. Somehow, they also seemed more vivid. The doctor had told him that this was likely the effect of hormones, which had transformed Justin into a whirl of ever-changing and often conflicting emotions. Another was, as Brian had coined it, Cleo's emerging wiggliness.
But through the chaos that was now Justin's usual physical and emotional state of being, Brian loomed large, quickly becoming Justin's mainstay, protector of his sanity. Brian rubbed cocoa butter on Justin's belly every night to prevent stretch marks, caught Justin whenever he wobbled (usually by wrapping his strong arms around him, one around his waist and one over his shoulder), and, to achieve the seemingly impossible (making Justin comfortable) arranged and rearranged pillows and blankets on, around, and even through Justin, as though he were a budding neoexpressionist and Justin, the center of his master work.
Even more surprising, Brian jumped whenever Cleo sent butterflies aflutter or bubbles afloat in Justin's belly (so much like the way he had made Justin feel that first day and every day thereafter), leaping and bounding across the loft in an attempt to catch her rare, fleeting performances, rubbed Justin's belly gently whenever it was within reach, and continued to speak to the baby, more now that his secret was out and he didn't have to wait until Justin was sleeping. Of course, Brian and Cleo still had midnight daddy-daughter chats, but less often.
********
Brian and Justin were walking through the park. They'd started doing that every evening. Justin still hadn't told Brian about what he'd overheard at the gym. After last week's Sunday dinner, he was relatively sure that those men were way off base, but he just couldn't bring himself to return. Not while his hormones were making him crazy. So Justin had told Brian a half-truth. He told him he'd read that walking was much better exercise for pregnant people, which was true, but he'd claimed that was the reason he no longer wished to go to the gym, which was a lie. He hated not being completely honest, but he much preferred that to appearing pathetic in Brian's eyes.
Brian had simply accepted Justin's wish not to return and the reason he gave. Justin thought that the man had done so a little too easily, but he was so relieved (in general, but especially where the pregnancy was concerned, Brian was a bit of a control freak; the sheer amount of water the man made Justin drink was case in point) that he'd let it go.
Truth be told, Brian was glad that Justin would rather not return to the gym. He was happy with the ways his life had changed, but, as much as he hated to admit it, all the gossiping bothered him. It was bad enough that Mikey wouldn't shut up about the talk floating around Liberty Avenue. He didn't need to hear it firsthand. Plus, Justin was extremely sensitive to stress and had plenty of potential sources without possibly becoming aware of the people pointing and whispering behind his back.
The gossipers would have had a field day if they'd seen Brian and Justin on their evening walks, for Brian always held Justin's hand, occasionally running his finger lightly over Justin's engagement ring. And tonight, Brian had caught sight of an ice cream vendor a ways down the path. So he'd suggested that Justin enjoy the street musicians playing while he made a call. Of course, that was just a pretext for him to sneak over to the vendor so he could surprise Justin with some ice cream.
On his way back, holding two cones with two scoops each of peach frozen yogurt, he saw Justin talking to a fiddler. The musician looked filthy and scruffy. Normally, Brian wouldn't give such a person a second glance, but Justin was looking at a CD while they chatted, sort of peeking up at him and blushing. Brian was suddenly experiencing dark urges (drop the cones and kick the living shit out of that leering beggar, turn and leave in search of a hot piece of ass to fuck into next week, etc.). But instead, Brian set his jaw and continued to walk toward Justin.
When Justin saw Brian approaching, he smiled so brightly that it seemed the sun had backtracked and was again shining overhead. Brian relaxed a bit and responded with a half-smile. Then Justin, without looking, set the CD back onto the make-shift table the fiddler had set up and walked toward Brian. Brian assumed Justin was coming for the frozen yogurt, so his eyes widened a little in surprise when Justin threw his arms around Brian's neck and cried, "You went for ice cream cones? You are sooo sweet!" The fiddler fumed.
Once Brian had recovered from shock, he grinned and growled in Justin's ear, "Not by a long shot, Sunshine. I just want to see your lips around one of these. I want to watch as you slowly draw your tongue along its surface."
Justin flushed, and his cock hardened. He replied in a voice husky with desire, "Fuck the ice cream. I'd much rather wrap my lips around your hard, leaking cock."
Justin didn't have to tell Brian twice. He ditched the cones, took Justin by the hand, and quickly led him to a secluded part of the park, but only after smiling at the now gaping fiddler. Justin immediately pushed Brian up against a tree, dropped to his knees, and freed Brian's cock. He sucked on the tip, gently at first, but then much harder, eliciting a moan from Brian. Then he began licking and sucking on the shaft sideways, as though Brian's cock were an ice cream cone. Finally, he deepthroated it.
Brian threaded his fingers through Justin's silky blond hair and watched, rapt, as Justin bobbed his head back and forth, drawing the entire length of Brian's cock into his hot wet mouth each time, sliding his plump cherry pink lips over his shaft. "Fuck. Those lips," Brian thought. That was about the only thought he could manage at the moment. Soon he was cumming. He almost got hard again watching Justin swallowing eagerly and then licking his lips and Brian's shaft to be sure he'd gotten it all.
Once Brian had zipped up, he pulled Justin into his arms and asked, "So what were you and that fiddler talking about?"
Justin replied absently (Brian relaxed almost completely at this point), "Violin music. I thought classical might be good for Cleo's development."
Even though Justin's interest seemed innocent, Brian couldn't get the image of Justin peeking up at the fiddler and blushing out of his head. He decided he needed to nip this in the bud, so he admitted, "Actually, any soft complex music is good for Cleo. I've been working on a compilation…"
Justin cut Brian off with a passionate kiss. He breathed, "I fucking love you, Brian Kinney!"
Brian hesitated for a moment, but then surprised Justin by replying softly, "And I love you, Justin Taylor."
Justin smiled, a smile that was much more radiant than the sun. At any hour.