Justin sat straight up in bed, covered in cold sweat. He ran his hands over his face frantically and sighed in relief when he felt nothing strange. Brian stirred a little and, still mostly sleeping, began rubbing Justin's back. He mumbled, "S'okay." Then he pulled Justin back into his arms. As he nuzzled Justin's neck, he mumbled, "Dream sumtin bad?"

"Yeah. It was so freaky! I was a leper. I had boils over half my face."

Justin could actually feel Brian wrinkle his nose. "Gross."

"Yeah, and I lived in an apartment on the fifth floor, but the kitchen was on the first floor. I kept trying to cook breakfast, but it burned every time, you know, because of the commute. Then someone who lived in the building, some scary-looking woman, gave me some of her leftover breakfast, but it was rancid."

"Didn eat it, didya?"

Justin laughed so hard he snorted. "No!"

Brian merely grunted in approval.

"Brian?"

"Mmm."

"What do you think it meant?"

"Dunno. Nuthin."

Justin lay there in bed for a long time wide awake. The dream he'd had that night wasn't terrifying like most of his dreams, but, for some reason, it seemed significant.

Brian fell back asleep the second Justin stopped talking, but awoke again an hour later when Justin started wiggling and groaning softly.

"Sumtin wrong?"

Justin sighed. "My belly is itching like crazy!" Then he wiggled some more. Now Brian was wide awake. He sat up and switched on the little lamp beside the bed. When his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he said, "Turn over. Let me see."

Justin flopped over onto his back and frowned. He was so desperate to scratch his belly, but if the chicken pox were any indication, scratching would just make it worse. Brian touched Justin gently and examined the area around his belly button closely, but saw nothing. Then he glanced up at Justin's face, which was tight. He was clearly in agony. Brian had a sudden brainstorm. Well kind of. He'd seen Debbie do this when Mikey had the chicken pox (As with everything, with the chicken pox, Mikey was a late bloomer. He got them when he was 15. But he was lucky. Any older and he might have had permanent scars on his face). Brian jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He ransacked the linen closet (some of the previous tenants had left things behind) until he found what he was looking for: a small bottle of calamine lotion. Then he stuck it in the freezer. Phase one was complete. Now he just had to distract Justin, giving the calamine lotion time enough to get cold. Debbie had used ice cream, but Brian and Justin still needed to go to the store (they were pretty exhausted after the drive, though Justin shouldn't have been; he'd slept for hours during the last leg). Brian shrugged. A little heavy petting should do the trick.

Unfortunately, and to Brian's dismay (up until now, he'd been under the impression that sex was the answer to everything), Brian discovered that itchy Justin wouldn't let Brian touch him. He kept pushing him away and snapping, "Brian, not now." Brian was so offended he had half a mind to leave Justin to fend for himself. But, instead, he just clenched a fist and plastered a smile on his face. But he stopped when Justin's eyes widened in horror. He guessed he'd overdone it with the smile. So after a heavy sigh, he asked, "That was a weird dream, huh?"

Justin frowned. "Yeah."

Brian had actually had a theory, but he'd avoided sharing for two reasons. One, he'd been really tired at the time and had just wanted to sleep, and, two, sharing would have meant bringing up a topic he'd sooner forget. He sighed again and then said, "I think the leprosy is just a manifestation of your growing insecurity about your body."

Justin's eyes widened almost to the size of saucers. He hadn't expected Brian to give his dream serious thought.

Brian continued, "Your belly's getting bigger and after what happened at the gym…"

Justin swallowed hard and colored slightly. He hadn't meant to tell Brian what the guys had said. It'd just sort of popped out after the tarot reading. Thankfully, Brian quickly moved onto the other part. "And the breakfast part is probably a representation of your discomfort with having to lean on someone else."

Justin furrowed his brow. "How do you figure?"

"Well, you kept burning your breakfast because you had to go up and down five flights of stairs. Don't ask me why you didn't just stay in the kitchen until it was ready. Anyway, the stairs probably represent your condition, the pregnancy, which makes doing for yourself more difficult. When you finally gave up, someone else offered you food, but it was leftovers and rancid. So when you depended on someone else, they failed to provide you with the care you needed. Since it was a woman, I'm guessing she represents your mother."

Justin just gaped. Brian's explanation made perfect sense. Justin was in such deep shock that he didn't notice Brian get up or see the calamine lotion coming. He jumped when he felt the freezing cold liquid being slathered on his belly. But, a couple of minutes later, he relaxed for the first time in almost an hour. His belly had stopped feeling itchy.

When Brian was lying back down and the light was off, Justin finally found his voice. He whispered huskily, "I'm so lucky to have you."

Brian swallowed hard, but he, as always, played it cool. He teased, "Damn lucky. Be sure to sleep on your back. I doubt very much that they sell Egyptian cotton sheets anywhere around here, and I only brought two sets."

Justin smiled brightly, and when he felt Brian's face buried in his neck a few seconds later, he drifted off to sleep.