Chapter 7 – Craig's Call

It was good to be home.

Justin ran up the stairs to his room, hoping to find Brian there.

The weekend had been surreal – life couldn't get better than this.

Brian's arrival. Opening his first show.

Visiting with Debbie, Daphne and his mom at the show on Saturday - watching their reactions whenever a piece sold.

Watching his art sell – that had been a high like no other. Lisa had been right. His stuff flew out on Saturday after word got out that both John Avery and Simon Caswell liked it.

Celebrating with Brian.

Sleeping in this morning and waking up wrapped around an already aroused Brian.

Making the most of his morning with Brian.

Meeting Marc and John. He'd been so busy since he'd arrived in New York, he hadn't had time to make many friends. The new faces had made spending Sunday afternoon at a hockey game worthwhile.

Justin burst into his room to find Brian sitting on the bed, working on his laptop, half naked. Time to celebrate again!

"So how did you enjoy the hockey game?"

Justin tossed his sketchbook into a corner and grinned as he started to undress. "It wasn't too bad - more exciting than the baseball games my dad used to take me to."

Brian's eyes darkened to brown at the reminder of Justin's dad. "Did you enjoy looking at all that padding?"

"Not really, but I did learn a few new things."

"Oh – like the size of Marc's stick?"

"No," Justin laughed as he reached out and set the laptop on his dresser. He crawled to where Brian sat in the middle of the bed and leaned in to start kissing him. "Like what a two-on-one is. Or a three-on-one." Justin tackled Brian to the bed, laughing. "My favorite was body-checking." They started to kiss. Champagne kisses, full of light and laughter.

Brian's mood brightened in response to Justin's happiness. He flipped Justin onto his back. "Well, my favorite is the penalty box." Brian held Justin's hands above his head with one hand and started tickling him with the other, enjoying the feel of Justin's uncontrollable wriggling beneath him.

"Brian! Stop that!" Justin was laughing so hard that his eyes started to tear. The phone rang. "Brian - let me get that." Justin's smile lit up his face as he grabbed the phone. "Yeah?" He shot up.

"Dad?" A brief pause and the smile started to fade, laughter vanishing slowly from Justin's blue eyes, replaced by concern and the remnants of love for his father.

Shit, Brian thought, he's going to do it. He's going to go through hell to save that bastard. Brian knew that Justin's response of "I need to think about this," meant that he was already figuring out how to make it happen, but it was obvious that Craig didn't understand his son at all. Justin's face started to harden as he listened to his father.

"I should do this because I owe you? For what? Throwing me out? Having me arrested? Trying to kill Brian?" Justin moved away from Brian as he listened to his father.

"Oh, so it's my duty as your son to save you? That's all that's left here, isn't it, Dad? Debt and obligation," Justin's voice was choked with pain, the last shred of hope for reconciliation with his father dying. "Let's be clear, Craig. I don't owe you a goddamned thing," and with that, Justin slammed down the phone.

"Brian," Justin's voice wavered as he reached blindly for comfort. "My father, he…he wants me to…" Justin couldn't finish.

Brian interrupted gently, "I know." He pulled Justin down into an embrace with Justin's head on his chest, gently stroking Justin's hair as he felt tears drip down.

Justin's head came up "You know? How do you know?"

"He told your mother on Thursday. She told me. We wanted you to have your show, and a couple of days weren't going to make a difference to your father. The bastard was supposed to wait until tomorrow to call." Brian shook his head lightly in disgust, "I guess he didn't want me to tell you about it first."

"He's dying."

"Yeah, and that sucks. It doesn't mean you have to risk yourself to save him."

"He's my father."

"Really? I've never noticed him acting like one." Brian made a visible effort to reign in his anger.

"No shit." Justin was thinking back to all the pain his father had caused him over the last six years. But, still - "I guess some part of me still hoped…" the thought broke off.

"I warned you about that. As long as you care, you can be hurt."

The comment brought Justin's repressed anger to the surface. "Why am I letting him hurt me?" Justin shook his head in agitation. "Why am I even thinking about helping him? Why should I care about him? He kicked me out. He attacked you."

Justin's face contorted as the rage erupted. "I know he'd rather see me dead than gay. He's like all the rest of them… like the guy who set off the bomb. Christ, for all I know, he is the guy that set off the bomb. He's certainly capable of it. He's treated me like shit, treated my mother like shit. I do not have to help him."

Justin was moving now, frantic, unable to sit still. "Why do I feel guilty? Why am I even considering helping that bastard out?" He looked at Brian with eyes full of anguish. "Why can't I be strong enough to walk away? You escaped your father – why the hell can't I escape mine?"

"I didn't."

"What?" Justin was startled out of his rant.

"I didn't escape my father." Brian looked at Justin, no expression on his face except for his eyes. His eyes were on fire. "He kept reeling me in. I gave him money for years. Let him get to me. You had 17 good years with your father. I don't think I had 17 good minutes with mine and I couldn't escape him."

"You never said anything."

"Why the fuck would I?"

Justin heard a lifetime of pain behind that statement and suddenly deflated onto the bed. The anger had run its course. "What am I going to do? Brian – what the fuck am I going to do?"

"The right thing for you. Not him."

"I don't know what that is."

Brian smiled, thinking back. "You'll figure it out. You always do."

Justin leaned into Brian's body, consoling himself by lighting caressing his lover as he thought. "Let's go home to Pittsburgh tomorrow. I need to talk to my Mom and I - I don't know – I just want to go home." Justin was having a hard time articulating his need for his family - his real family.

"I'll book the flights."

Justin lifted his head and started to kiss Brian. Slow, tender kisses that soothed the soul, eased their sorrow. Brian felt Justin's need like an aching void demanding something, anything to fill it. Brian was at a loss, desperately wanting to help, but not knowing how.

Justin reached for a condom and started to roll Brian over onto his stomach. Brian resisted, stopping the motion. He looked at Justin, reading him, trying to understand. It slowly dawned on Brian that Justin needed to take control of something to help him cope with the things he couldn't control.

Brian let himself go.