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Gus stared glumly at the paper in his hand, but no matter how long he looked at it, the numbers didn't change.
"It's not that bad," chuckled Ashley, seeing his face from across the room where she was stocking comics in their racks. "Considering how easy this job is, it's a pretty decent paycheck."
Gus sighed, stuffing the pay stub in his jeans pocket. "I know, but it's just so . . . ."
"Underwhelming?"
"Yeah."
Ashley shook her head, turning back to the books. "That's why I'm going to college. No way do I want to spend my life working for pennies. But for right now, this is a pretty cool deal."
Gus watched her bend over and retrieve more comics from the box at her feet. Nice ass. Actually, she was more than a nice ass. Over the past three weeks, he had gotten to know her better, and he liked what he saw in her. She was tough, independent, and confident. The girls at his school were always so shy, huddling in groups and giggling at the boys behind long curtains of hair and painted fingernails. Ashley would never have fit in with them, and he approved of that.
The bell over the door rang, and Gus watched as Keith sauntered through, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Ashley gave him a sour glance and continued working. Undaunted, Keith headed to the front counter, flashing Gus a friendly grin.
"Hey, man. How's it going?"
"Good. You?"
"Oh, it's all cool, man. It's cool." Keith set his pack on the counter and leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Hey, just wanted to check in and see if you need anything special, if you get my meaning."
Keith had stopped by a few times since Gus had started working at the comic store. After some tentative conversations, Gus had admitted how much he missed his buddies in Toronto and the times spent getting high and partying on weekends. Keith had offered to help him out, but so far Gus had declined. Right now though? After seeing his paltry paycheck, he needed to relax and have some fun or this entire summer was going to be an unbearable bust.
"You know, I could use a little something. This week's been boring as hell."
Keith nodded and reached into his bag. "Tell you what. First time's on me. You like what I give you, you can pay me for the next batch." Looking around first, he scooted two small plastic bags across the counter. Gus palmed them, sliding both into his own backpack under the counter. "No kidding, man, those are prime. You won't find any better in the Pitts."
Gus grinned. "Thanks, Keith. I definitely owe you."
"No problem. And if you're looking for more cash?" He glanced back at Ashley, but she had her back to them. "Just let me know. Rod used to help me out by selling when Mr. Novotny wasn't around. This store had some regular customers, and it was cool. Easy money, man. Novotny never knew a thing. You help me out, and I'll make sure you get some real cash. Not some minimum wage paycheck."
Gus hesitated. "I'll let you know, okay? Gotta think about it."
"Sure. No rush. Enjoy the goods, okay?"
Keith winked and exited the store, slapping Ashley on the ass on his way out. She glared after him.
"Asshole. I have no idea why you bother talking to him."
"He's not that bad." Gus walked over and whispered in her ear. "He gave me free stuff!"
She rolled her eyes. "That's great, but next time, he'll want his pay."
Gus bent over and picked up a stack of comics. They worked together in silence for a few minutes before Gus finally cleared his throat.
"So, uh. Want to do something with me Saturday?" He avoided her gaze, continuing to sort the racks.
"You asking me out on a date?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you want to call it. Just thought maybe we could get some dinner and hang out. Wherever."
He chanced a glance in her direction. She was smiling so wide, he could see the small gap between her front teeth. It was unfairly adorable.
"Sounds great. And here I thought you would never speak up."
Patting him on the cheek, she grabbed the now empty box and headed for the storage room. Gus watched her go, blushing hard but feeling triumphant. This weekend was going to be awesome.
Daphne stepped out of the dressing room of Banana Republic and pirouetted in front of Justin before striking a pose.
"So? What do you think?"
She looked stunning in a black, spaghetti strap dress that flared out above her knees. Justin often thought that if he'd been straight, he would definitely have been all over Daphne.
"Elegant. Perfect for the new doctor looking for love."
Her mouth dropped in a scowl. "I'm not looking for love. I'm running from it."
"Okay, so Rob was a bad egg. That doesn't mean you won't find another great guy, Daph."
"I don't care if I do," she sniffed. "Maybe I'm better off single."
"No, you're not. You're gonna find the perfect guy and live happily after."
"Like you and Brian?"
Justin sighed. "I hope not. It took a lot of agony to get where we are. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."
"He loves you deeply, Justin. You're a lucky guy."
"I know that. But it wasn't always this easy."
She disappeared back into the dressing room, and Justin wandered the store while he waited. Daphne had recently broken up with her boyfriend, leaving her without a date for her end-of-residency party at the hospital. Finally, after years of study and long hours of practicing medicine as a medical student and then a resident, she was a full-fledged doctor starting a career at Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh. Justin had agreed to accompany her to the event.
After stopping at the desk to purchase the dress, they headed out into the mall, pausing to get a coffee at Starbucks. A circle of iron-wrought tables and chairs surrounded the front of the shop, and they sat to sip their drinks while watching the people flow by like flotsam in a current.
"So, how are things with Gus?"
"Better." Justin winced as the coffee burned his tongue. "He's saying a lot more than 'fuck off' now. We actually have real conversations, and he eats with us."
"That's great! I always thought you'd make an awesome dad."
"I'll settle for friend. It's too late for him to think of me as a father."
"It's never too late. He really loved you when he was little, remember? What was it he called you again?"
Justin suppressed a grin. "Jussy."
"It was so cute! He'd come running as soon as he saw you."
"Well, he's almost an adult now. I can't woo him with crayons anymore."
"You don't need to. Just be yourself."
"You should drop by and meet him. He said he kind of remembers you."
"I'll do that! It'll be fun." She raised her cup to take a sip and froze, smile disappearing. Her eyes widened, riveted somewhere to Justin's left.
"You know, are you ready? Why don't we head out?" She stood up so fast, she knocked over her bag sitting by her feet.
"Daph? What's wrong?"
She reached down, snatching the bag while slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Nothing. I just think it's getting late, don't you?" She glanced off to the side again, a definite look of panic crossing her face.
Frowning, Justin turned just as a harsh voice spoke just behind him.
"Taylor?"
Time seemed to slow, the faces around him blurring as Justin stared up at the man who still dominated his nightmares. The sounds of the crowd quieted, unable to repress the crack of the baseball bat Justin still heard in his memory.
"Hobbs."
He released the cup of coffee to rub his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants. He could only hope he didn't look how he felt: trapped in a cage of skin and bone while his soul struggled to flee.
Hobbs lifted his chin, staring down his nose at Justin. "I thought it was you. Came crawling back to Pittsburgh, huh? New York didn't want you?"
Breathe. Just breathe.
"I didn't want New York. I had better places to be."
"Like here?" Hobbs scoffed. "What's the matter? You miss your elderly fag lover? Isn't he in an old people's home yet?"
Justin stood, clumsily tipping his chair over. It fell with a clang that rattled his already frayed nerves. He clenched his fists as he faced his high school nemesis.
"That elderly lover happens to own the top advertising firm in the Midwest. You're nothing but an ant to him, Hobbs. And even less to me."
The other man stepped close, his cruel sneer only inches from Justin's face.
"If you think I've forgotten what you did with that gun in my face, Taylor, you're sorely mistaken. I haven't forgotten a thing, and I don't forgive either. You better watch your step in Pittsburgh, little cocksucker, because if you want to play with guns, you're asking for trouble."
He looked over at Daphne and smirked. "Still hanging with faggots, Daphne? Why don't you find a real man?"
Snickering, Hobbs turned and melted into the crowd without a backward glance. Suddenly lightheaded, Justin gripped the edge of the table, closing his eyes as he released a sigh of relief.
"Justin, you all right?" Daphne gripped his arm, peering into his face. "Fuck, you've gone pale as a ghost. Let's get out of here, okay?"
Wobbling slightly, Justin grabbed her hand and let her lead them toward the exit. His coffee remained behind, forgotten.
Gus had no idea what exactly led him to explore Justin's studio. Probably because it was the only room in the house he hadn't yet seen. Justin kept the door closed most of the time, even when he wasn't at home.
He loved the room. Situated at the corner of the first floor, it was lit by two large windows, one of which faced the pool and patio, while the other faced a small garden on the side of the property. A large work table sat in front of the largest window, flanked by two cubby hole bookcases. A plethora of art supplies filled the shelves. On the back wall by the door, several large canvases lay propped against the wall.
Gus wandered over to the desk, his attention caught by multiple unfinished panels for Justin's comic strip, Maddie. He had always been a fan of Maddie, relishing its similarity to his own family, although he was a boy with two moms instead of a girl with two dads. When his mom had discovered that he followed the strip, she had told him that Justin was the creator.
Intrigued, he saw the comic in a new light, wondering if the story was Justin's fantasy of having a family. The thought angered him. Why couldn't Gus and his dad be Justin's family? They could have been if he had not run to New York!
Glancing over the drawings, he was surprised to find that Justin was introducing a new character: a boy named Sean, who was being adopted by Maddie's dads. Maddie had been the result of a friend who acted as surrogate. Sean was adopted from an agency. Another dimension to the ever-changing picture of same-sex parents.
Continuing to look around, he opened the door of a closet in the corner. It was full of various drawing pads, as well as something in the back covered by a sheet. Curious, he pulled the cloth aside to find three square canvases, no larger than two feet. They were unframed, and unlike the other canvases in the room, the backs had no title written on them. He pulled them out of the closet and lined them up side by side against the wall, kneeling down to scrutinize each one.
They were very different from Justin's other paintings. Gus was no art critic but even he could discern the darkness in these pictures. Despair and anguish lurked within the bold streaks of black and red. One was of a white scarf, soaked in blood, lying in a dark corner. The second depicted a dark tunnel, the silhouette of a person running down the middle, oblivious to the shadow on the curved wall. The shadow stretched menacingly toward the figure, the shape of a baseball bat clutched in an enormous fist.
The last one was painted in the same shades of black and grey as the others. In the center, two men danced together, their features blurred in shadow. At the periphery of the picture, a crowd watched, giving the men a wide space to move. A disco ball hung at the top, scattering circles of light around the dancers. The remarkable thing about the painting was the way it was drawn as if the viewer was seeing the scene through a window, its glass streaked with tears of crimson. Blood.
Faintly, he heard the sound of a car outside and hastily gathered the three pictures, stuffing them once more in the back of the closet. With a last glance around, he closed the studio door and headed downstairs.
The front door opened, and Justin walked in, followed by a petite, pretty girl with a cloud of black curls. Gus knew immediately that something was wrong. Justin was very pale, his eyes vacant. He barely looked at Gus before heading to the stairs.
"Gonna get a shower."
The woman watched him ascend, looking frustrated and helpless.
"Fuck," she whispered, hands clenched at her side. Her eyes flicked to Gus, widening as she took him in.
"Gus?" When he nodded, she beamed. "Wow, it is you! You look so much like your dad. I know you don't remember me, but I used to help Justin babysit you when you were little."
"Yeah, that's what he said. You must be Daphne."
"Yep! It is so good to see you after so long." Her face fell as her attention switched back to where Justin had disappeared. "I'm sorry it's not at a better time."
"What's wrong with him?"
"We ran into that asshole, Chris Hobbs, at the mall. I think Justin's kind of shell shocked. He's barely spoken since we left."
"Who's Chris Hobbs?" She talked so fast it made his head spin.
Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my God! You don't know the story? About Justin getting bashed?"
What the hell? "Justin was bashed? When?"
She swore. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but I'm so worried about Justin. Is your father around?"
"No, he's at work." He could hear the sound of the shower being turned on upstairs.
She rubbed her forehead, thinking. "I don't want to bother him, but I don't think Justin is okay. Do you have his phone number?"
"Sure." He led her to the kitchen where his cell was lying on the counter. After giving her the number, he followed her to the sofa, where they both sat while she dialed her phone. Gus glanced at the ceiling, listening to the shower.
"I'm sure he's fine. Just getting a shower."
"Trust me, he's not." She shifted the phone closer to her mouth. "Brian? It's Daphne. You got a minute?"
Brian had just returned to his office from a meeting in the boardroom when his cell vibrated in his jacket pocket. He dropped into his plush leather chair as he answered.
"Kinney."
"Brian? It's Daphne. You got a minute?"
A slow smile crossed Brian's face. "Sure. What kind of trouble are you and Justin making this time?"
She giggled. "We never make trouble!"
"Are you kidding me? Whenever you two get together, Justin brings home a head full of romantic shit he wants to try. I get dragged out to some new cafe where we can design our own mugs or to museum full of weird metal sculptures."
"Those didn't come from me! Totally Justin's ideas, I swear." Her voice turned somber. "Brian, something happened while we were at the mall today. I'm worried about Justin."
"What happened?"
"We ran into Chris Hobbs."
Fuck. Brian stood up and retrieved his briefcase from behind his chair. He began stuffing the papers on his desk inside while holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder.
"What do you mean you ran into him?"
"Well, we were drinking coffee and he saw us. I was hoping he would just walk by, but he walked over and started talking to Justin. Giving him shit about moving back to Pittsburgh."
Brian snapped the briefcase shut. "I'm heading to my car now, Daphne. Where are you and Justin?"
"At your house."
"I'll call you back when I'm on the road, okay?"
He placed the cell in his pocket and headed for Cynthia's office. Her door was open, so he poked his head in.
"I'm out of here for the day. Can you handle anything that comes up?"
She looked up from her computer. "Everything okay?"
"Don't know yet. I'll call."
When he was on the freeway, he dialed Daphne back.
"It's me. Where is Justin now?"
"He's upstairs getting a shower. At least that's what he said he was doing, and we can hear the water running."
"We?"
"Me and Gus. He's here too."
"Okay. Tell me what Hobbs said to Justin."
She told him about the confrontation. "Brian, what was he talking about? About Justin using a gun?"
Brian increased the car's speed, wishing he had a cigarette. He could hear the echo of Justin's voice, telling him about Cody, the gun, and Chris Hobbs.
"I'll tell you later. Just keep an eye on him until I get there."
She let an exasperated sigh. "I can't just go in the bathroom while he's taking a shower!"
"Why not? You're a doctor for Christ's sake! Nothing you haven't seen before. You guys even fucked once, remember?"
"Brian!" He could just see her mouth drop open. Daphne was so emotional. "He's my best friend! I can't invade his privacy."
"Then just listen for him, okay? I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Unfortunately, a car collision slowed him down just as he neared his exit. Frustrated, he slammed his fist on the steering wheel. Damn it! He needed a cigarette. He needed this traffic jam to clear out. He needed to be home now.
By the time he screeched into the driveway, it had been thirty minutes since he hung up with Daphne. He entered through the garage, tossed his briefcase and jacket in the kitchen, and came upon Daphne and Gus still sitting on the sofa.
"Where is he?"
"Still upstairs." Daphne gave him a worried look. "The water's still running. He's been in there a long time."
"Fuck."
He gave Gus a quick squeeze on the shoulder before taking the stairs, two at a time. Flinging the bedroom door open, he glanced around and saw a pile of Justin's clothes on the floor by the bathroom. The bathroom door was wide open. Moving slowly, anxiety stirring in his gut, he entered.
The shower was surrounded by glass, very similar to his old shower in the loft. A milieu of water droplets clouded his view, but he could make out Justin huddled on the floor in the back corner, knees drawn up to his chest. Without hesitation, Brian flung the glass door open.
"Justin?"
The curled body didn't move. Justin's face was hidden, his head resting on his knees. The water was cold. Not lukewarm. Cold.
"Justin."
Alarmed, he entered the shower, clothes and all, and knelt by Justin, wrapping his arms around him. He managed to coax Justin to his feet, and got him to step out of the water. Grabbing a towel hanging on the wall, he flung it across Justin's shoulders, pulling the other man against his chest and into his arms. He could feel Justin shivering, his entire body convulsing.
Cupping one hand around the base of Justin's head, he pulled him closer, lowering his lips to the dripping hair.
"Justin. Talk to me. What's going on?"
When Justin didn't answer, Brian gently pulled him into the bedroom and proceeded to dry him off. Usually, drying each other off was a routine of seduction, but not tonight. Once Justin was relatively dry, he laid him in bed and shed his wet clothes before climbing in next to him. Justin was still trembling, so he wrapped himself around the slighter body, trying to warm the cold skin next to his.
He closed his eyes, but blood and rage flowed through his thoughts, so he opened them. Justin burrowed closer, and that was encouraging. He could feel Justin's breath tickling his nipple, and he curled around his lover, slowly running his palms over Justin's back and arms. The goosebumps disappeared; the tremors slowed. Touch had always been their main line of communication, sensuality their expression of love. Justin began to respond, tentatively brushing his nose across Brian's throat.
"Don't want to talk yet, huh?"
Justin didn't answer, but it wasn't necessary. Brian could feel Justin's anxiety in the grip of his fingers, a disquiet that would paint bruises on Brian's skin later. He welcomed the grasp, rolling Justin to his back while initiating a slow kiss, a warm caress to chilled lips. When they were no longer quite so blue, he dropped his mouth down to Justin's neck, licking rigid tendons and lapping at the rapid pulse. His partner released a long sigh, dropping his head back.
That's it. Come back to me.
Encouraged, he moved lower, then lower, tracing abstract patterns with tongue and fingers. How long had it been since he had last worshipped every inch of Justin's body like this? Too long. He took his time, lingering over sensitive spots, enjoying the feel of Justin's skin. When he felt Justin's cock rise, he smiled and pulled it into his mouth.
His lover twitched, reaching down to yank at Brian's hair, silently begging him to come back up. Understanding, Brian rose, covering Justin once more with his body. As Justin wrapped his arms and legs around him, Brian licked one hand and took their cocks, stroking them. As Justin craned his neck to kiss him, he rolled them to the side, chest to chest.
The kisses deepened, melding them together while they thrust into Brian's fist. There would certainly be bruises tomorrow, but the thought only made the sex hotter. He moved his fist faster, catching Justin's moans with his lips. The fact that Justin was responding was a good sign, and Brian was determined to blow any memory of Hobbs right out of thought. As Justin's fingernails raked his shoulders, he nipped at the nearby earlobe and whispered.
"That's it. Come for me."
Justin went taut, and warmth spilled over Brian's hand, bringing him to orgasm also. He thought he heard Justin say his name, but it was lost to the roar in his ears as everything whited out. Their bodies collapsed together, sated and limp. Justin curled into him, uncaring of the stickiness, but he had never been one to run to the bathroom immediately after. Brian was the fastidious one, but he held Justin until his breaths grew quiet before slipping out of his arms to clean up.
He hadn't forgotten about Daphne and with Justin asleep, he dressed and went downstairs. He found Daphne in the kitchen with Gus, drinking a soda and chatting. As soon as she saw him, however, she halted mid-sentence to interrogate him.
"Well? You were up there forever. He okay?"
He glanced at Gus. "Sonny boy, would you excuse us for a minute?"
Gus made a face, but slipped off the bar stool and headed outside to the patio, dropping into a lounge chair near the door where he could still hear them. Rolling his eyes, Brian took Daphne's arm and guided her into his office, closing the door.
"Well? Brian, I've been worried about him for hours."
"I know. I apologize for the delay, but he was in panic mode. I was trying to calm him down." Brian sighed. "I don't suppose you have a cigarette handy?"
"I quit smoking before you guys did. Doesn't exactly look good for a doctor to smoke."
"Thank you for getting him home. He's sleeping now. I think he's better, but I'll check on him when he wakes up."
Daphne nodded, staring down at her feet. "I think you should also know that Gus wants to know who Chris Hobbs is. I take it he's never heard the story?"
Brian plopped down into a chair, wiping his hand over his face. "Probably not. As you can guess, it's not something I enjoy talking about. I don't know if Mel and Linz ever said anything."
"They didn't. He didn't know about Justin being bashed." She sat beside him, distressed. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything in front of him, but I was so worried about Justin. He wanted me to tell him what's going on, but I didn't say anything else. I figure that's something you and Justin should do."
"No. I won't put Justin through that. I'll talk to Gus myself."
She put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If there's anything I can do . . . anything . . . call me, okay? I'll help in any way I can. And I expect you to keep me updated."
He smiled and placed his hand over hers. At one time, he would have scoffed at the offer of help. How things had changed.
"Thanks, Daphne. You're a good fag hag."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm the best fag hag, and you know it."
"Except for Debbie." He couldn't resist the dig.
"She's not a fag hag. She's a gay man wearing the skin of a woman."
The laughter lightened the tension, leaving Brian grateful that Justin had such a good friend. The world seemed less bleak with such people in it.
After Daphne left, Brian found Gus in the main room between the kitchen and the stairs. He was watching television, but hit the mute button on the remote when Brian entered.
"You going to tell me what's going on?"
"Just a second."
Brian went to the kitchen cupboard containing the alcohol, and retrieved a bottle of scotch. Grabbing a glass, he went back to where Gus was sitting and sat in a chair facing him, pouring himself a shot. He downed it in a practiced gulp before finally meeting Gus's gaze. After all, if he was going to tell this story, he needed ammunition.
"I'm sorry you were never told about this, but the truth is that it's a difficult story to tell. What happened . . . it was pretty horrible." Shoving the glass aside, Brian took a swallow straight from the bottle. Gus watched, obviously worried. Brian didn't normally drink much in front of his son. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"Was Justin bashed?"
Brian flinched. Hadn't he developed a thick skin against this long ago? Apparently not.
"Yes." He took another pull of scotch, felt the heat burning all the way to his stomach. There had been a time when he had wished for that heat to consume him, obliterate everything. Thankfully, that time had passed. But only because of Justin.
"It shouldn't have happened at all. If I had stayed away, it probably wouldn't have."
"That's bullshit."
They both startled at the quiet voice coming from the stairs. Justin stood there, wearing a bathrobe. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was still pale, but the look he gave Brian was full of fire, and his words never wavered.
"It's utter and complete bullshit."