Okay, so prepare for Michael to go WAY OOC throughout this fic - the rest I think are staying relatively true to the original character with the odd tiny change to make them semi-realistic in this situation but Michael is well gone =( SORRY!

Michael pulled the jeep up outside the loft's building and Brian got out, before helping Justin out. The kid just fell against the older man limply, he was still shivering and although it was less severe than it had been, it was still clear the kid was drained emotionally and physically.

"I'll ring you in the morning," Michael said out of the window as Brian struggled to keep the kid propped up and open the door to the loft's building at the same time. "Oh, and Brian."

"What?"

"Don't fuck him."

Brian just smiled and gave Michael and Emmett a little wave before virtually carrying the kid into the elevator and then dragging him from the elevator to the sofa.

"You can sleep here," Brian said angrily, going to a cupboard to get some warm blankets. He threw them over Justin and intended to leave it there. But he could still hear the kid's teeth chattering. Brian touched his hand to Justin's face and found his skin was like ice.

"You could do with a shower," he frowned, his tongue going to his cheek as he tried to work out what would be the best way to do this. After a few moments of contemplation, he decided that it would be easier if he just got in the shower with the kid, purely for convenience obviously.

He stripped them both off slowly but Justin just stood slumped against the shower wall as though half asleep … or half dead. So Brian wrapped his arms around the smaller man as he allowed the water to cascade around them. For a few minutes, Justin's frozen skin seemed to be turning the hot water cold rather than the other way around but eventually, the colour returned to Justin's skin and he started to warm up.

"I'm feeling a lot better now," he said, as he reached out from Brian's embrace and grabbing a bottle of shampoo, "thank you."

Brian just nodded as he soaped the kid's back slowly. He felt the kid shudder a little under his feather light touches but he knew that this shudder had nothing to do with being cold. After a few minutes, Justin decided he'd had enough of standing under the shower. So silently, he opened the glass door and slid out. Brian watched the kid dry himself slowly for a bit before he left the bathroom, showing off that perfect ass as he went.

"Shit," Brian muttered to himself. He couldn't do this. He couldn't fuck this kid. It would just mess things up even more but knowing that wasn't stopping the primal urge inside him to just grab the kid and slam into him. "Come on, Kinney," he muttered, washing his face vigorously, "resist." He's not even your type, he told himself, though he almost smirked at his own lie, every guy with a pulse and a great ass was his type and this kid certainly had a great ass. He shook his head and put conditioner in his hair. He had to stop thinking like that or there'd be no stopping him.

He turned the showers water down a lot and although it took a while the cool water and his constant thinking about Debbie meant he finally felt like he'd calmed down enough to go back out and see the twink without feeling the need to pound him into the mattress. He should have known better.

He tucked the white towel carefully around his waist and then walked out into his bedroom to find Justin lying flat on the bed, completely naked, with his legs in the air. He looked beautiful and so virginal and tight. Brian knew at that second there was no way in hell he would be able to stop himself from having this this kid especially if he was going to offer himself up like a dish on a delectable menu. But he tried to stay cool, just for a moment longer.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"That Mikey guy…"

"Michael," Brian corrected immediately.

"Right," Justin nodded, his tongue poking out as he worked hard on keeping his legs above the mattress, "him. He said this was your favourite position but I don't get it. You can't sleep like this."

"It's not a sleeping position," Brian smirked. "How exactly do you think fag's fuck?"

"I - I," Justin stammered, blushing a little, as he lowered his legs. "I don't know," he admitted sheepishly. "I've never…."

Brian scowled, something didn't add up. "Didn't your dad say he caught you fucking another guy?"

The kid nodded a little. "It was just a blowjob. Not that it matters. If you hadn't been there," he shuddered at the thought of what could have happened.

"Don't think about it now," Brian suggested, unwrapping his towel and sliding into the bed. He had to turn away from Justin, the sight of his all-too-perfect body just lying there ready to be ravished was too much for Brian's ever depleting will-strength. After a few seconds, of working really hard to roll over and grab the kid he said, "why don't you go to the sofa now?"

"But…" Justin started. Then he was silent for a second and the temptation got too much, so Brian flipped over and was met by a pair of bright blue eyes.

"But what?" He snapped.

"Well," Justin blushed a little and fumbled his words but eventually he said, "I was thinking maybe you could show me…." He trailed off, lifting his legs just a few inches off the mattress again to better explain his point.

"You want me to fuck you?" Brian asked, raising an eyebrow bemusedly. Resist Kinney, a tiny voice in his head yelled but Brian had barely ever listened to that voice anyway so when Justin nodded, Brian smirked predatorily and moved over to the kid. He took Justin's legs and placed them over his shoulders. "That easier?" He asked softly.

Justin nodded. He was trying to fend off crying and grinning like a lunatic at the same time. He was terrified of this man. This man who'd nearly killed him, this man who'd shot his dad, this man who'd taken him in, this man who'd helped him get warm in the shower, this man who was more beautiful than anyone Justin had ever seen before. And yet, Justin had never wanted anything more in his life than this.

"Just ... take it easy, okay," he whispered.

"I know," Brian whispered back, leaning down to kiss Justin passionately and then that was all there was … kissing and fucking until they eventually passed out with exhaustion.

Brian woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and sausages filling his nostrils. Shit. What the fuck was going on? He rolled onto his back and sat up slowly. That stupid, fucking kid must have been cooking breakfast. What a fucking breeder thing to do.

Brian's worst nightmare was confirmed when Justin came up the stairs slowly, concentrating very hard on not spilling the tray all over the place.

"Hey," he beamed, when he noticed Brian was watching him. "I made you breakfast."

"I don' want it," Brian snapped immediately, rolling away from the kid.

"But it's the only thing I could do to say 'thank you'."

"I only saved your life," Brian sighed, "no big deal."

"Not for that," Justin insisted, moving around to the side Brian was facing so that the older man found himself forced to look at this kid. "For letting me come back here and for warming me up in the shower." Then he blushed a little adding, "and for keeping me warm in bed."

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly, before pushing himself into a seating position and saying, "lets get one thing straight. Last night, it was just a fuck. We're not some breeder couple. We're not married and I'm not your boyfriend. It was just a fuck, a one night only special event."

Justin stared carefully at the older man and nodded, saying, "so, do you want this?" And put the tray on Brian's lap. The older man wasn't sure what he'd expected, maybe some crying, some kind of massive queen out, in which it would have taken all his effort not to shoot the kid but Justin had been very calm about it.

"I hope you like bacon and sausages," Justin shrugged, lying on his belly and kicking his legs up like a girl behind him.

"Actually," Brian said, as he looked down at the full cooked meal, dripping in grease that was in front of him, "I try to avoid fat like a troll in a bathhouse."

"Oh," Justin said, looking really disappointed and for some reason, Brian couldn't bear to see that expression on that beautiful face.

"But I guess I had a good work out last night, right?" He forced a smile and cut a miniscule piece of bacon off and popped it in his mouth. "Not bad."

Justin beamed back at him, a wide, infectious, sunshine smile and Brian took another slightly larger bite.

He'd almost finished a piece of bacon and half a sausage and some of the bread when he noticed Justin wasn't eating anything.

"Where's your food?" He asked.

"I had another plan for breakfast," Justin shrugged a little embarrassedly and Brian noticed the red in his cheeks growing hotter.

"Which was?"

"No, it's stupid now after … what you said." Justin was looking at the blue duvet with new found interest as he twisted the material nervously in his fingers.

"Just say it," Brian growled.

"I was hoping for something a little higher in protein," Justin mumbled, raising his head so his eyes met the older man's. His eyes were glinting a little mischievously as his gaze flicked lightning quick to Brian's cock and back again.

"Well," Brian said, setting the tray carefully on the floor, "who am I to stop a young boy from getting all the protein he needs?" He pulled the duvet back and grinned. He was incredibly grateful that his first assessment of Justin as a frigid stuck up country club boy had been wrong. This kid was as filthy as the rest of them and Brian fucking loved it.

After several more rounds of fucking, each one with Brian promising himself it would be the last, the two managed to drag themselves of the bed and into some clothes. Justin went to make Brian some coffee, on his request whilst Brian flicked on the television and immediately wished he hadn't.

BREAKING NEWS were the words that flashed right across the screen in bright red followed by a picture of Justin in his school uniform.
"Eighteen year old, Justin Taylor, was kidnapped last night from his house in the suburban part of Pittsburgh. His parents, Craig and Jennifer Taylor, say that they were in the middle of a family dispute when a tall man with dark hair burst through the door, shot at Craig before kidnapping the child." A picture of the house was shown and then a picture of the tire tracks Mikey had left right outside the fucking house.

"Police say although they have some leads, the evidence so far seems to be severely limited and it is the belief of Police Chief Jim Stockwell that this was the work of a hardened gang." Stockwell flashed onto the screen.

"It is our belief that this was the final stop of a gang of criminals who'd methodically broken into every house with children who attend St James Academy. This is not an amateur job and whoever has Jason Taylor is armed and extremely dangerous."

"My name's Justin," the kid scowled from the right of Brian. He was holding the steaming cup of coffee at a slight tilt as he was drawn in by the news. "You'd have thought he should have known that."

"This is Jim Stockwell," Brian explained, taking his cup of coffee from the kid, "the man with the reputation for ignoring anything bad that happens to the gay community. This will all blow over in a couple of weeks, citing lack of evidence." He took a sip of his drink confidently.

And then an E-FIT picture popped filled the screen, a perfect black and white replica of Brian's face and then another less perfect replica of Emmett.

"Shit," Brian breathed.

"These are the men suspected of Justin Taylor's kidnap," the news woman continued. "We are yet to know the names of either of these men but if you have any information please call our information hotline, the number is being shown at the bottom of the screen now. It is believed both these men are slim and around 6ft 2. It is also suspected that there was another man involved though we are unclear at this time what he looked like. Please remember if you see these men, do not approach them. They are armed and extremely dangerous."

The number and the two E-FIT's shrunk a little and moved to the corner of the screen, still visible for anyone who was just turning the channel on as the main part of the screen was taken up by the kid's mom, sobbing hysterically in some kind of press conference.

"Please," she was begging, staring straight into the camera, "if you have my son, bring him home to me. Please. Justin, if you can see this, I want you to know that I love you and your dad and I will do everything in our power to bring you home." The hysterical sobbing continued and Brian noticed Justin sink dejectedly to the sofa.

"You okay?" he asked.

Justin nodded, but it was clear he was lying as he watched his mother staring out of the screen continually begging him to come home.

Suddenly, Justin's eyes felt red, itchy and tears began to leak down his face.

"Stupid allergies," he muttered as he dried his cheeks on his sleeve. Brian handed him a tissue as he sat before going to his desk and sitting down and pinching his nose as he tried to work out what they were going to do and then, everything got a million times worse.

"We have a name for one of the men," the newswoman announced proudly as Brian's own E-FIT suddenly grew again to fill the entire screen. "His name is Brian Kinney. That's Brian Kinney. If you have any information on this man please get in contact."

"Fuck," Brian shouted. His stomach seemed to fall away as the realisation that he was totally fucked dawned on him but he didn't have time to be worried. He had to get out. "Kid," he ordered, "grab a bag, fill it with clothes, shoes and food now."

Justin nodded and quickly grabbed two bags stuffing anything he could find into the bags. It was at the moment the phone rang.

"What the fuck Brian!" Michael screamed at him down the line.

"I don't know. Are you ready to go?"

"I'm packing now. But where the fuck are we gonna go?"

"West Virginia of course," Brian said, "I always knew that house was going to come in handy. Where's the jeep?"

"I took it to the Big Q, pulled off the number plates and burnt it out, there's no way they'll trace that back to us," Michael said proudly.

"Good job, Mikey. Right, has Ted still got that old warehouse security system he was trying to do up?"

"I think so."

"Well, make sure he brings it and then get him to drive his car over here and then we can go but we need to move soon."

"On our way Brian," Michael said enthusiastically.

Brian hung up the phone and then screamed for Justin.

"What?" The kid said appearing in seconds holding up two large duffel bags.

"You ready to go?"

He nodded eagerly.

"Good," Brian said. He chewed on his thumbnail for a second and then moved quickly towards his bedroom. He flipped the mattress up and onto it's back, knocking everything off his bedside table and all over the bedroom. Glass smashed all over the floor, his alarm clock started to bleep as it made contact with the faux wooden floorboards but he didn't give a shit, he just hit a button and typed in a code. Justin couldn't believe it as he watched the bottom of the wooden bed frame slide away to reveal, line after line of impressive looking guns.

Brian started picking and choosing carefully from his collection putting them into a bag that looked like a laptop case. Then he picked up the matching bullets and slid them into the many pockets in his bag. Finally, he clicked the bag shut and pulled two more guns from the hidden draw. They were both revolvers and he loaded them both quickly with the deft ability of a pro. Justin gulped as he watched Brian slide the loaded gun, into the back of his trouser's waistband and then held the other one out to Justin, who just stared back with awe and fear.

"You got an inside pocket in that jacket?" Brian asked.

Justin nodded dumbly.

"Right, put this in there," Brian said firmly. "Do not use it unless absolutely necessary, got that?"

Justin nodded again.

"Don't touch it. Don't even think about it being there. You only use it if it's kill or be killed."

Justin nodded again. He felt like his jaw was wired shut, as he stood frozen to the spot. Kill or me killed? How serious was this? But that question was answered as Brian slid the metal gun into his hand.

The metal felt cold, really cold but at the same time it was powerful. There was a thrill he couldn't explain as he held it. Just knowing the damage this could cause, made him feel in charge and naughty, like a small child who knew he couldn't get caught for stealing the last cookie. Except this was much bigger than stealing a cookie. This was a matter of life an death. In his hand he held the means to kill another human and as that thought crossed his mind, his hand went limp and he almost dropped the weapon to the floor.

Brian was studying the younger man closely..

"You okay?" He asked. He remembered what it was like to hold a gun for the first time, you felt invincible and free to the point of insanity. Brian remembered how he'd nearly blown his own head off in giddy excitement when he and Michael had snuck out to a deserted sports ground to try out a gun they'd found under Deb's pillow but Justin looked more like he was going to vomit.

"Like I said," Brian said as softly as he could, "just put it in your pocket. Hopefully, we won't have to use it."

Justin nodded mutedly and then feeling like perhaps he should actually say something he whispered, "okay," and slid the gun into his pocket. "Just…" he trailed off.

"Just what?" Brian asked carefully eyeing his watch, and keeping his hand firmly on his cell. This waiting was killing him.

"Don't leave me," Justin pleaded, fixing his blue eyes on Brian's brown ones.

Brian stared at him for a second, his eyes flicking all over this innocent face ahead of him. He took a deep breath, "I won't."

And Justin flashed him a watery smile and reached out to hold Brian's wrist in his clammy, shaky hands. Figuring the kid could probably use any miniscule amounts of comfort he could get, Brian resisted throwing him straight off and allowed him to clutch at his wrist with nothing more than a sharp bark to warn him to be careful of his bracelet. It was black string, cowry shells with his initials carved on one of the shells. It wasn't particularly special or even very expensive but it had history. He'd bought it when he was hiding out with Michael in Mexico on his very first and only other fuck-up. Ever since he'd bought the bracelet every job he'd ever done had gone smoothly and so, the logical, practical, hardened gang leader Brian Kinney had developed a superstitious attachment to his 'lucky bracelet' and hadn't been be seen without it for almost twelve years.

It was only a few more minutes before Brian's cell began to ring in his palm. He looked down to see it was Michael's number. He answered and the only word that was uttered was 'outside' and Brian looked at Justin seriously.

"Let's move."

Hey! Little bit of a cheeky request, but does anyone fancy beta'ing this fic for me? In my head I've moved on way too far with the story, characters and relationship to really be able to look at these chapters properly ... because the characters seem sort of alien. This probably makes no sense but I am looking for a BETA so if anyone's interested ... please let me know!