


Taylor

by violette7



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-08-03
Updated: 2010-08-22
Packaged: 2013-09-13 15:44:57
Rating: M
Chapters: 24
Words: 56,433
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5273052/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1047068/violette7
Summary: A fateful meeting during a sleepover when Brian and Michael are 16. Where or, rather, when did Justin and Brian really meet for the first time?





	1. Brian's First Time

"Brian. Tell me!"

I'm on top of Brian, tickling him, so he laughs as he responds, "No!"

Then he shakes his head like a defiant 2-year-old, arms crossed and everything.

"It's none of your business."

"Come on…pleeeaaassseee…"

"Nope."

I sigh. "OK…just tell me how old you were."

Now it's Brian's turn to sigh.

"Fine. I was (something garbled)."

"I didn't quite catch that."

Brian sighs again, but much more loudly.

"I. was. 16. You happy?"

Shocked, I ask incredulously, "16?"

Brian looks at me with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, daring me to make a big deal out of it. "Yes. 16."

"So…the gym teacher didn't pop your cherry. Hmmm."

"You're brilliant. I'm surprised some top-secret think-tank hasn't snapped you up."

"I wonder who it could have been…"

"As much as I would love to continue this discussion, I have to get to work. So are you gonna come blow me in the shower or not?"

Brian doesn't wait for my response. He just climbs out of bed and into the shower.

"Arrogant asshole," I mutter as I follow him in.

"What was that?" he calls from the bathroom.

I smile brightly and reply, "I said, 'I'll swallow you whole.'"

"Hmmm…I like the way that sounds."

"I thought you might."

************

I don't have school today. So after Brian leaves, I return to Deb's and climb into bed. I don't even take my clothes off. Lying there, I try to imagine what Brian's first time was like. I must be tired from last night's love-in because I drift off almost immediately.

************

"I can't believe you are having a sleepover, and you expect me to go."

"You're my best friend! You have to."

"Mikey, we're 16 now. Don't you think we've outgrown slumber parties?"

"Sissy Melnik's brother is coming. She'll be here for a while, and she likes giving blowjobs."

"She's a girl. Why the hell would I want her sucking me off?"

"It doesn't matter. Just close your eyes."

"Fuck that! Are there any hot guys coming?"

"Well Tom Busida is kinda cute."

"He's a troll and as straight as an arrow."

"Oh. Sorry."

"I'll come, but I can't promise to stay all night. If it gets too lame, I'm bailing…"

"Ok."

************

When I wake up, It's dark out. I can hear people laughing downstairs.

I get up and pad down the hall. I peek downstairs and see Michael and some kids I don't know lying in sleeping bags on the living room floor. What the hell? Then a familiar voice surprises me.

"Hey kid. Who are you? Where'd you come from? Are you here for the sleepover?"

I turn to face Brian.

"Brian…"

What the hell? Brian looks like a teenager. He's still gorgeous as all hell, but his eyes look softer, warmer, and he looks less sure of himself. He's also an inch or two shorter.

"How do you know my name?"

This cannot be happening. I decide to wing it.

"Um…I was here for the sleepover, but…"

Brian laughs. "But it's kind of lame."

I smile bright. "Yeah."

He seems thrown by my smile.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here?"

"Sure."

************

God, he's hot. His jeans hug his gorgeous ass, and he's wearing a sheer blue top, tight in all the right places. Blond hair, crystal blue eyes. When he smiles at me, I'm lost. I hadn't fucked or been fucked by anyone yet. I'd told Mikey that I'd fucked before, but I'd lied. I hadn't met _the one_ yet. He'd never believe that I wanted my first time to be special, but I did. I couldn't even believe it. Now it all makes sense. I was waiting for him. I am going to fuck this beautiful boy tonight. Maybe I'll even let him fuck me. I had the urge to do anything, everything with him. Everything I'd only seen in porn movies. I'd heard about this…being irresistibly drawn to another…love at first sight. But I'd thought it was a bunch of crap. Now I believe it. I believe everything now. If this boy told me that Santa and the Easter bunny were real, I think I'd believe him.

************

"So what's your name?"

Shit…uh. "Taylor."

"Taylor. Nice name. Different. I'm Brian."

"How old are you?"

"16."

16? No shit! Is he still…?

"How about you?"

"18."

"Really? You look like you're 14."

"I know. Everyone says I look younger than I am."

"Here we are."

"Where's here?"

"My house. My parents and my sister are at my aunt's for the night. We'll have the place to ourselves."

"Cool." I can barely contain my excitement.

When we reach his room, I can't control myself anymore.

Brian is sitting on his bed. I move his knees apart and sit between them on the floor facing him. I thread my fingers into his and lift myself up so that I am looking right into his beautiful hazel eyes.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but I have to say it."

"What?" He smiles at me. So open. What a difference 12 years makes!

"I know you don't know me, but I feel like I know you. You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and, as long as I live, I know that I'll never see anyone as beautiful as you."

He blushes. Brian Fucking Kinney blushing!

"I know what a freak I must sound like, but…I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone, and I know that that won't change. Whomever I may be with over the years, I'll never desire anyone the way I desire you." My voice breaks on the last part. I know how completely weird it is for me to say these things, but I can't help myself. Everything I'm saying is true, and this version of Brian is much more open. I can just feel it.

Brian cups my cheek with the hand I'm not holding.

"I…kind of feel the same way. When I saw you, when you smiled at me, I thought that maybe this was what it was like to fall in love."

Oh. My. God.

"I knew right away that I want my first time to be with you."

"Your first time?"

"Yeah." Brian colors.

"I've given and received blowjobs, but nothing else."

I don't think I've been this turned on since my first time. This cannot be real. Just a fabulous dream. The best dream I've ever had. Or ever will have.

"Have…?"

I can tell Brian is nervous.

Brian Fucking Kinney nervous!

"Have you ever…?"

Shit, what do I say? 'I'll lose my virginity to you in 12 years.'

"Uh…my first time will be with you." There. That's not a lie.

He smiles bright. Christ, I need his lips on mine, his cock buried inside me, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

I climb into his lap, straddling him. I rub my erection against his, nudge his nose with mine, and brush my lips over his.

Brian lets out a low, guttural moan.

I lick his bottom lip and push my tongue into his mouth. Brian pulls me against him tight and returns the kiss. Then we are kissing like it's the only way we'll survive.

I break away suddenly, tears glistening in my eyes. "Brian," I whisper, my breath ragged. "I love you. Crazy as it sounds, I know you're the only person I'll ever love. If we don't see each other after this, for a while, I'll be passing each day, just waiting until I can be here again. In your arms."

Brian returns my gaze; his eyes….are they damp?

I send my lips crashing back down onto his and devour him, his mouth, his tongue, his lips.

************

When Justin asked me about my first time, it took everything in me to act nonchalant. How could I tell him that my first time had been with someone who looked exactly like him? Whose name was similar. Taylor. Who was an artist just like he was. I knew that they couldn't be the same person. I mean, Taylor was 18 when I met him. 12 years later, I met 17-year-old Justin Taylor. But when I saw him under that streetlamp, I wondered.

Taylor had said that if we didn't see each other again for a long time, he'd just be waiting for the day he could return to my arms. I realize that I've been waiting, too. After that night, I couldn't get close to anyone. I didn't want to. No one was Taylor. Not even close. After a while, I refused to fuck blue-eyed blonds. Too painful.

Until I met Justin. That night, my life had been irrevocably altered a second time. I hadn't been the same since. The things Taylor had said, the feelings he'd evoked, even his scent…so like Justin's…It's hard to believe that they are different people. So much so that the first time I'd fucked Justin, I'd told him that I loved him. Words I hadn't said in 12 years…words I had so desperately wanted to say. I'd never said them to anyone else, except Mikey and Gus, but that didn't count. After our first night, I'd wanted to tell Justin that I loved him, every day, but I felt so guilty. Like I had betrayed Taylor. I kept pushing Justin away, but I couldn't stay away for long. I am as hopelessly drawn to him as I had been to Taylor.

************

I'm lying on top of Taylor. God, he's even more beautiful out of his clothes. Not super built, but toned. He has a nipple ring, and his cock is huge. As big as mine. His skin looks like porcelain. So soft. As soft as his silky blond hair. I caress his back, running my hand down its length, and, then, bury my face in his hair, nuzzling his neck.

Suddenly, Taylor flips over. I guess I look surprised because he says, "I want to look into your eyes when we do this."

I smile. He's so sweet.

"How?"

"I'll put my legs on your shoulders."

"Won't that be uncomfortable?"

"No. I mean, I don't think so. Even if it is, it'll be worth it. I want to see the look on your face when you enter me, when you cum."

I smile. "Ok." God, I never smile this much. I'm genuinely happy. I can't even remember how long it's been.

I put Taylor's legs up on my shoulders as he slips a condom on my cock and lubes me up. He places a lubed finger inside himself. Then a second and a third. Stretching himself for me. I've never seen anything sexier. He just flashes me a million-watt smile. Then he pulls his fingers out.

With a giggle, he says, "Ok. Your turn."

I'm so nervous. I'm afraid I'll hurt him. I think he can read my mind.

"It's ok. Even if it hurts, I won't mind. I need…need you inside me."

That does it. Seconds later, I'm pushing myself inside him. Christ. I have never felt anything so good. His ass is heaven to me.

Taylor grunts, and I pause. A moment later, he's pushing back. Pushing my cock deep inside him. He continues until I am completely buried in his gorgeous ass. Oh Fuck! That's incredible. Taylor shoots me a naughty smile, which quickly becomes a look of desperate desire. He whispers, "Fuck me, Brian."

I oblige. I begin thrusting. Taylor moves his ass around until my cock hits something inside him. The look on his face when that happens is amazing…as though he's never felt such incredible pleasure. I smile even as I moan. My cock caused that pleasure. I love knowing I make him feel good. I thrust more quickly, being sure to hit that spot every time.

"Oh. My. Fucking God. Brian. Brian. Fuck. Fuck me harder, please."

I couldn't control myself now if I wanted to. I hold Taylor's legs tighter and fuck him hard. He's moving against me. We are both moaning loudly. Taylor's mouth is open slightly, and his eyes wear an expression I can't read. Soon, Taylor is cumming on his chest, and I am cumming into the condom inside him. Neither of us had even touched his cock. Time seems to stop, and colored lights are exploding behind my eyes. Without even thinking, I moan, "I love you, Taylor. I love you."

I let my head fall onto his chest. I feel something drip on my hands. I look up. Taylor is crying. "I love you, too, Brian. God, I love you."

*************

16-year-old Brian and I are in his shower. There isn't much room, but we can both stand comfortably. I am so excited to show this version of Brian my superior cock-sucking skills. I am certain he's never had a Justin Taylor-quality blowjob yet. I kiss him on the lips. A gentle caress at first. Then I tilt my head and slip my tongue into his mouth. His meets mine eagerly, and he slides his hands behind my head to deepen the kiss.

I throw Brian a million-watt smile and lower myself to my knees, giving both of his nipples a lick-suck-nibble on the way down. He smiles at me shyly when he realizes what I'm doing. I lick the underside of his cock slowly, flattening out my tongue and tracing the vein that runs along it. His eyes immediately darken with lust, and he licks his lips. I tongue his slit until he is moaning and, then, suck on the head. Brian braces himself against the shower wall with his left hand and puts his right in my damp hair. I take his entire cock into my mouth and start sucking and licking, my head bobbing. Every few downstrokes, I bring the head of his cock into my throat and swallow. The first time I did this, his eyes rolled back, and he moaned my name loudly.

I start bobbing my head more slowly, wanting to make this last as long as possible. A couple minutes is all Brian can take of the slower pace. His left hand meets his right behind my head, and he pushes his cock into my mouth faster. I let him thrust as much and as fast as he wants, but I swallow on every downstroke now. Brian is close. Hot water is sliding down his arms and chest, his nipples hard and his abs taut from the pleasure he is experiencing. He looks at me with half-lidded eyes, his mouth open slightly, his eyelashes especially long and dark because they are damp. He is painfully beautiful in this moment; I want to engrave the image in my mind, an image I will cherish always.

I lube a finger (so glad I had the forethought to grab lube and condoms on the way in) and play with Brian's entrance. Then I slowly slip a finger in until I reach his prostate. The moment I touch it Brian shoots in my mouth. I continue sucking his cock until the aftershocks subside. I stand up, and Brian takes me into his arms, holding me tight. He lets his head fall on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, "Taylor, that was fucking incredible!" I smile brightly as he tenderly kisses my neck.

*******

After an amazing fuck (lovemaking session) and a spectacular blowjob, I am absolutely sure that I want Taylor to fuck me. He gave me so much pleasure, and I want to reciprocate. I'd like to suck his cock, too. Fuck, I have never craved anyone the way I crave Taylor. I want to do everything with him, lick, suck, touch, taste, and feel every single part of him. After the blowjob, I am so spent that I rest my head on Taylor's shoulder. After I tell him how wonderful it was, I whisper, "I want, no need, you inside me. Fuck me, Taylor."

Taylor must be surprised because for a second or two he goes limp in my arms. "You want me to fuck you?" he whispers back incredulously.

I just nod against his neck. I pull back, so I can look into his beautiful blue eyes, and I see that he's flushed. I smile.

Taylor turns me around, so I am facing the wall. He licks and sucks my neck a few times and, then, slides down to his knees. I am not sure why. He runs his hands over my ass, soft and slow, and, then, spreads my legs apart. Suddenly, I feel something hot and wet against my entrance. Fuck! That's his tongue. He licks my entrance with the flat of his tongue for a couple of minutes, and, then, I feel the tip inside me. He moves it deeper and, then, pulls out completely. The cool air sends a shiver down my spine. Before I know it, he plunges the tip of his tongue back in. That feels so good, I can barely think.

When he wiggles his tongue around inside, my cock starts throbbing and leaking.

I half-say, half-moan, "Taylor, I need you inside me now. Please."

Taylor stands up. I hear a condom package being ripped open. Seconds later, he whispers in my ear, "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

Taylor trembles a little. Then he takes a deep breath, puts his hands on my hips, and pushes inside me slowly. When he is only part of the way in, he stops, rubbing my lower back and licking and sucking my neck. The pain is excruciating. I'm glad he lubed his cock after putting the condom on. When my breathing slows, he pushes in until he is completely inside me. I feel his balls against my ass.

Taylor moves his body a little, putting it at a slightly different angle, pulls out, and thrusts back in. I am beginning to wonder why men like this when suddenly his dick hits some part of me, and I am enveloped by a wave of pleasure. Holy Fuck! I moan loudly. As though waiting for that cue, he immediately begins setting a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and, then, thrusting back in. Taylor is panting, and I'm moaning. Fucking hell, I never thought it would be this good. I try to relax, delay my orgasm, but, even though Taylor hasn't touched my cock yet, I know I'm close. I feel like I'm going insane.

I moan, "Taylor, faster, harder, please."

Taylor obliges. He quickens his thrusts and, then, grabs my cock, pumping it fast. Three strokes and I am cumming like never before. My ass clenches around his cock, and, soon, I feel Taylor cumming, too. He moans so loudly and shouts my name a few times. He rests his head against my back for a moment or two before pulling out. I feel so empty afterward. Now that we have fallen back to Earth, we realize that the water has gone cold. We reach for the knobs at the same time, and our hands touch. We laugh.

Soon, we are warm again, in my bed snuggling beneath the blankets.

"Taylor, this is the best day of my life. Hands down."

He smiles at me and says, "Meeting you was definitely the best luck ever had. Ever will have. I love you, Brian."

"I love you, too."

I pull Taylor more tightly against me and fall asleep.

*******

It's morning, and I'm still here. With 16-year-old Brian. I thought for sure that if I fell asleep, I'd return to 2001. What do I do now? Brian's parents will return today. Where should I go? I can't tell Brian what's going on, just in case it's not a dream, but I don't want to leave him until I have to.

For the moment, I content myself with drawing my lover. I find some plain (unlined) white paper and a regular (#2) pencil in Brian's desk. I sit down there and start sketching. He's lying face down, his head resting on his left arm and facing me and his right arm hanging off the bed. I have an excellent view of his lean ass and the muscles in his upper back and shoulders. Even at this age, Brian was athletic. I wish I had colored pencils or paint. The sun is shining through the window, bringing out the red and blond highlights in Brian's brown hair. Suddenly, Brian stirs. He looks up at me with droopy eyes and murmurs, "Morning, beautiful." I melt, smiling brightly. I feel like I'm in heaven.

*******

I can't get Taylor out of my head. I trace a finger along my shell bracelet, remembering our trip to Texas hopping box cars. I smile. That was a wild experience. Then I look at the drawing he did of me, which is now lying on my desk. I sigh. I smile when I read what he'd written on it: "I miss you already—Taylor." I don't know what possesses me, but I pull out the framed drawing Justin did of me. My smile fades when I see Justin's signature ("Justin Taylor"). The "Taylor" on each is identical to the other. What the hell? They couldn't be…


	2. On the Road

Taylor wants to get away and figure things out. Earlier, as we were lying in the afterglow of a morning fuck, he told me that his parents have his life all planned out for him. Attending some fancy business school. Becoming a partner at his father's company. Marrying some well-to-do girl. He doesn't want any of it. He wants to attend art school, become an artist, and live as an openly gay man. Unfortunately, without their help, he won't be able to go to school at all. So he needs to decide what to do. Making it on his own won't be easy, but living up to their expectations won't be a life at all. He knows his parents will come looking for him, and, apparently, they have tremendous resources, but he thinks he can evade them for a few days, maybe even a week. He asked me to come with him. I didn't even blink before I was smiling and nodding. It's summer, and I don't exactly get the spa treatment here at home. A week away from Jack and Joan is a more than welcome respite. Add Taylor to the mix, and I'd call it fucking paradise. Literally. He's afraid that his parents or someone they know will snatch him away before he can say goodbye, so he gave me enough money for a train ticket home and made me promise to hold onto it.

*******

I still can't believe it. Brian and I are going to "hop a boxcar" headed to Chicago. Once there, we'll travel to Mexico. Or as close as we can get. I've read about teenagers doing this, hopping boxcars and traveling from city to city all across the country, but I never thought I'd actually do it one day. Something about Brian makes me courageous enough to do anything if it means I can spend more time with him. Thankfully, I had fallen asleep in my clothes, and I'd just gotten paid. So I have a few hundred dollars, and things are cheaper here. We went to the Liberty Diner for breakfast (fortunately, Deb was off today) and, then, to the market for traveling supplies: bread, cold cuts, fruit, and snacks; a flashlight; a small radio; condoms and lube (thank goodness K-Y has been available over the counter since 1980); smokes; a new sketchpad and #2 pencils (shudder); and bottled water. Brian is currently packing toiletries and clothes, while I am making sandwiches. I am literally tingling with excitement.

Brian walks into the kitchen, sets down one of the two bags we're bringing with us, and comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. Sigh. This is heaven.

"Aren't you done yet? We have to make it to the tracks near the station by 11:30 if we're going to catch the noon train."

I shove a strawberry in his mouth and finish packing the sandwiches I made.

I turn around and say, "All done."

He pulls me in for a strawberry-flavored-Brian kiss. Yummy. He squeezes my ass, and I let out a small moan. He pulls back and asks huskily, "One for the road?"

I just smile. Seconds later, he's got me pushed over the counter, my pants down, his cock in my ass. You'd never know he was a virgin yesterday.

*******

Taylor and I top the hill next to the train station. We start walking down to the tracks when we see the noon train pulling out of the station. Fuck! I grab Taylor's hand and run. I knew I should have said no when Taylor offered me that blowjob, waggling his eyebrows at me seductively like a siren. But once you've had one, refusing another is nearly impossible and absolutely impossible when you're also a horny teenager.

We reach the train and see a few open boxcars. We head for the last one. I toss my bag in and, then, take Taylor's and do the same. The train is still going pretty slow, but it's speeding up. I take a running leap and make it on, and, then, I lean over the edge and reach out for Taylor's hand.

Taylor's panting and flushed. Fuck! He's having trouble keeping pace with the train.

He yells despondently, "Brian, I don't know if I can make it."

I'm scared, but I laughingly curse, "God damned artists! Come on Sunshine, you can do it!"

I have no idea what possessed me to call him Sunshine, but I think he likes it because he smiles brightly and runs faster.

Finally, I feel his hand in mine. Once I've got both of my hands on his arm, I pull him in. We go tumbling across the car and land in a heap, Taylor on top of me. His head is on my chest. I put my arms around him. He starts laughing, and I can't help but join him. We spend the next five or ten minutes like that, in a hot, sweaty, giggly heap. I was right. This is paradise.

*******

I scanned the signatures, printed them out, and took them to a handwriting specialist today. They look the same, but I need to know for sure. The handwriting specialist told me to return tomorrow. I'd also avoided Justin all day. I didn't go to the diner, I didn't go to Woody's or Babylon, I didn't call him, and, in fact, I'd turned my phone off. Until I know for sure, I just can't look at him, speak to him, touch him, kiss him, or fuck him. I have no idea what I'll do if I discover that somehow, some way, the impossible is possible, and Justin is Taylor.

*******

Taylor and I are sitting on the edge of the boxcar. He's on one side of the open door, and I'm on the other. Our legs are stretched out, and our feet, touching. We took our shoes and socks off shortly after we jumped on. At first, we hung our feet over the edge. Feeling the wind against our bare skin was incredible. But we thought someone might notice if we kept it up. So we switched to our current positions. Taylor's smiling at me now. I have no idea why I suddenly called him Sunshine before, but it really is the perfect nickname. Seeing Taylor smile and feeling his bare skin on mine, I'm so happy that it hurts. Sounds crazy, right? But, for me, it's not. I know it can't last. I learned long ago that if I was ever lucky enough to be happy, the moment would pass quickly, and, once it had, I'd need to pay dearly for the joy I'd experienced. All good things have a price. Taylor will most certainly be taken from me, probably forever, and who knows how Jack will make me suffer later. But Taylor is with me right now. I need to enjoy his presence with a light heart, as though tomorrow will never come. I smile back.

Taylor has been eyeing me curiously for some time. He's probably reading my mind again. He always seems to know what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. He stands up, walks to the center of the boxcar, and begins to undress. His body is flushed with desire, his cock erect and leaking, and his nipples hard from the evening chill. He crooks a finger at me and bites his bottom lip. That always does me in. In that tiny act, a nibble, there is innocence and desperate need, shyness and undisguised lust, pleasure and pain, just a few of the many contradictions that make Taylor the person he is. Seconds later, I am naked and standing in front of him, ready to give him whatever he wants, whatever he needs. Stupid as it sounds, at such times, I feel like this is what I was made for. To be Taylor's everything.

Taylor pulls me down to a sitting position, slides a condom on me, spreads lube on my cock, and, then, impales himself on it. Fuck! The combination of the tight wet heat enveloping my cock and the way he's looking at me, so intensely and with such love, drives me wild. I try to thrust, but Taylor holds my hips still, licks his lips, and, then, starts riding me. Slow at first, but then faster. So fast that I let out a visceral moan. Now he's squeezing me as he slides up and down my shaft. Fucking Christ! I can't take much more. I've never seen anyone or anything more beautiful than Taylor at this moment, the diffused pink orange light from the sun setting falling on his creamy white skin, giving him an otherworldly glow, the wind rustling his hair, and a mixture of wanton lust and deep love in his eyes. Taylor cups my face and kisses me hard. A moment later, we are both cumming like it's our first time.

******

I knew Brian was thinking about our inevitable separation. He was staring at me with unseeing eyes wearing a look of resignation. I wish his world weren't so bleak. My inability to help pained me, so I did the only thing I could do; I tried to make the right-now more pleasurable.

The train is approaching Chicago now. From this vantage point, it doesn't look too different from Pittsburgh, except that the downtown area has many more buildings, and they are much taller. I know we can't stay on the train until it reaches Union Station because it's underground. If we did, we'd be caught for sure.

"Brian, we need to look for a good place to, uh, 'disembark.' We can only stay on a few minutes longer."

He replies cheerfully, "Ok." I guess my 'Band-Aid' worked, for the moment at least.

We each grab a bag and peer out.

"Oh, there. It looks like we're going to switch tracks. The train will need to slow down. We should jump off there, that clear spot right by the river."

"Oh yeah…Wow, you have a good eye."

Brian just smiles in response, but, then, in a serious tone, he says, "Taylor, when your feet hit the ground, bend your knees and roll. Okay?"

I nod. He's trying to sound relaxed, but I know he's as nervous as I am. He's probably remembering the difficulty I had jumping on the train. I've never been good at anything physical, well, except sex and dancing, but those are very different from all the action-movie stunts this trip requires.

A minute later, we're holding hands and leaping off the slowing, but still moving train. I bend my knees and roll and end up rolling right into Brian's arms. He's hanging over the edge of the river holding me tight. If he hadn't been there, I'd have fallen into the water for sure. He rolls away from the edge and on top of me. We both start laughing uncontrollably. When our laughter subsides, Brian kisses me tenderly and, then, stands up, pulling me with him.

"Where to now?" he asks.

"Well, the train to Texas won't be here until 5pm tomorrow. So…I guess we should figure out where we're staying tonight and, then, hit the town. After all, Chicago's Boystown is the most famous gay neighborhood in the country."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm. It was the first."

"Cool. Are we far?"

I pull out my Chicago map and study it for a couple of minutes. "No, but it's too far to walk. 5 or 6 miles, I think."

I look around. I know Chicago has a good subway system, and we're downtown. There should be a station nearby.

"Oh, oh. Over there. Across that bridge, there's a subway entrance. Let's go." I grab Brian's hand and start running down Roosevelt Road.

He laughs. "Why so fast, Sunshine?"

I smile and shake my head. Silly Brian. "We don't have a schedule yet. We might miss the train we need."

I know he thinks I'm crazy, but he doesn't slow down. We reach the subway entrance in just a couple of minutes. I grab a subway map/schedule and start getting my bearings. I look at my watch and beam.

"We are so fucking lucky. It's 8:25pm. We have 15 minutes until the next train, and it just happens to be the one we need, the Red Line. We need to take it north."

Brian laughs. "It's all you Sunshine. I only started getting lucky when I met you, and I don't just mean the incredible sex."

My breath hitches, and I pull him into a passionate kiss. Then I groan. "We need to buy tickets and get to the platform."

I pull him toward the stairs.

******

The handwriting specialist confirmed my…what? My irrational hope? My deepest fear? I don't know which. Maybe it's both. Yesterday morning, Justin didn't have any knowledge of my first time or any memory of our trip. How is that possible? Was he just playing dumb? That can't be. Can it? Justin has never been one to cruelly toy with another's emotions. At least, not the Justin I know. Someone knocks on the door. Must be Justin. I called him 20 minutes ago and asked him to come over. I have no idea what I'm going to say to him.

I open the door, and Justin jumps into my arms, planting kisses all over my face and neck.

I laugh. I think he remembers now. Wait, I'm pissed at him. I set him down roughly and walk toward the bedroom. I turn around and look at him, trying to read the expression in his eyes and his body language. He seems confident and genuinely happy to see me. Not a trace of guilt. But his eyes wear a knowing look. He must realize what I want to talk about.

Just to be sure, I pick up the drawing Taylor made for me and hand it to Justin.

His eyes light up, and he flashes me a million-watt smile.

"Recognize that, Sunshine?"

"Of course, I do. I drew it."

I pinch the bridge of my nose for a moment and, then, look back up.

"How is that possible? The person who drew it for me made it 12 years ago."

Confusion in his voice, Justin replies, "I have no idea how it's possible. But I know that I drew it."

"So…you were the person who met me at Mikey's sleepover, you took my virginity, you traveled with me to Texas, and you gave me this bracelet?"

Justin answers evenly, "Yes."

"But yesterday, you had no memory of doing all that."

"No. For me, the trip ended this morning, when I woke up in the present day."

Annoyance evident in my voice, I say, "I see. It's a strange coincidence that you were asking me about my first time just yesterday, isn't it?"

"I'm not so sure. After I left the loft, I went back to sleep at Deb's. I was trying to imagine how you lost your virginity when I fell asleep, wishing that, somehow, I could have been your first. The next thing I know, I'm waking up at Deb's in the past, about to meet the 16-year-old you."

"I see." I turn away, trying to keep my feelings in check, but I just can't. I told him that I loved him, many, many times. I waited for him for years. I kept pushing him away in the present, making us both miserable, because my feelings for Justin of the present had me racked with guilt over Justin of the past. I felt like I was betraying my first love. Even though I now know they are one and the same, I still feel violated and betrayed. Tricked.

I wheel back around.

"How could you violate me like that?"

"What? How did I violate you?" Justin asks in shock.

I spit venomously, "You took advantage, contriving circumstances and lying to me so that I'd give you there what you wanted so desperately from me here! …and what the hell were you thinking when you said you'd just be waiting to come back to me? You knew how long it would take! That's fucking cruel! You co-opted my most important memories! My first time, my first and only love, my bracelet…How dare you?"

Justin stares at me, too astonished to speak.

"Get the fuck out! I can't even look at you right now!"

"No. Fine. You're right! I'm a horrible person. My staying was a complete violation. I should have locked myself in Michael's bedroom closet until the world started spinning on the right axis again. But I had no way of knowing it wasn't a dream. How the hell can you expect me to avoid you in a situation like that? Especially since you'd already seen me. Yes, I wanted you. I'd want you in any incarnation. But you wanted me, too! Before I'd said a fucking word, well, beyond hello, you'd decided that you wanted to lose your virginity with me. Don't you even try to deny it! I could see it in your eyes. Yes, yes, I began to fear that it was real somehow, and I made sure that you didn't know I was from the future. Why? Because every movie I've ever seen involving time travel warns against that. But beyond that, all I cared about was that you'd be okay after I disappeared. I needed you to know that you meant everything to me. That I wasn't leaving because I wanted to. I knew that you had trust issues, and I didn't want to add to them. I assumed we'd only have the one night. But then, I woke up there again, and I had no clue when I'd be sent back. So I told you what I needed to tell you. I didn't want my disappearance to be a surprise, and I didn't want you to worry about me after I was gone. But I never lied to you. Not once. Whatever feelings you developed for me as a result of your first time being with me and our trip were real. Nothing was contrived. This was fate! I have no clue why I decided that we should head toward Mexico. I didn't know you'd gotten your bracelet in El Paso. But when I saw it, I knew, I knew, I was meant to buy it for you. When I drew that picture and left it in your room, all I was thinking about was preventing you from being sad later. I was not, NOT, trying to leave a mark on your life or wheedle my way into your heart. But if you can't see that, then fuck you! That first night…our trip…they mean something, and not just to me. I wouldn't give up those memories for the world! Not even for you!"

Justin, in tears now, turns to leave, slamming the loft door on his way out.

Shocked by his animated response, I start thinking about what I would have done in his place. Probably exactly what he did. And he's right. I had wanted him the minute I saw him. I had felt a special connection the moment I looked into his eyes. His smile was the clincher, but he hadn't said much before then. Nothing a stranger wouldn't have said. His last words ring in my ears: "That first night…our trip…they mean something, and not just to me. I wouldn't give up those memories for the world! Not even for you!"

If he had been trying to play me, why would he be willing to give up now? That would defeat his purpose.

Shit! I fucked up big this time, didn't I? Ruining what should have been a happy reunion…one I'd spent 12 years longing for!

******

Well, I called Justin's cell phone. Went straight to voice mail. Then I called the diner, Deb, Mother Taylor, and Daphne. No one has seen him. Now what? I guess I'd better put shoes on and start combing the streets. I can't leave things like this.


	3. Rapture

We get off at the Belmont station. Belmont is the southern border of Boystown. I look at the map. We need to go right. We start walking, and, a few minutes later, I'm pleasantly surprised to see a small ice cream parlor across the street.

I say, "Ooo. An ice cream parlor. And it's still open. Let's go."

Brian looks amused.

I'm a little offended. "What? I'm a growing boy. I shouldn't be worrying about my weight yet."

In a mock serious tone, Brian responds, "Oh, of course not." But then, he bursts out laughing.

I start muttering, "Jerk. Well, if you don't like my ass, think it's too big, fine. You can just find another ass to plow. If you think no one else will want mine, you've got a lot to learn. My blond boy ass is a hot-ticket item, anywhere, anytime."

I cross my arms and glare at him icily.

Brian is still laughing, but more quietly. He grabs my ass and nudges my nose with his. Then he whispers, "Come on, Sunshine. I was just teasing. You know that I love, no adore, your ass. You're just too cute. So excited about ice cream. And food in general. You eat nonstop. I really don't know where you put it all."

No longer pissed, I laugh. "Well, you've been helping in that department. Giving me quite the workout."

He moves his hands to my waist and kisses me tenderly.

"So you're not mad anymore?"

I sigh loudly. "Well, no. But be warned. When we find a room, I'm gonna have you begging to get inside my tight ass. You'll need to rim me into near oblivion before I let your cock anywhere near it."

He smiles shyly. "Sounds like a plan."

God, he's so fucking hot. The rare moments he's shy drive me wild.

I grab his hand and run across the street to the ice cream parlor. A few minutes later, we're walking down Belmont with ice cream cones, still holding hands. I love holding Brian's hand. That's something I hardly ever get to do in the present.

Even after sunset, it's still warm out. Shortly after getting our ice cream cones, mine is dripping so much that I'm licking it like crazy to keep it from melting all over me. When I look over at Brian, I see lust darkening his eyes. He even licks his lips unconsciously. I laugh and put the entire ice cream part in my mouth and suck on it, pulling it out slow. Good thing it's hard ice cream. Watching me intently, Brian actually lets out a soft moan. He tosses his cone in a trash can and, then, grabs mine and does the same. He pulls me to him roughly, licks the ice cream off my lips, and kisses me deeply. I feel his rock hard cock pressing against my growing erection. We really need to take this off the street.

I look up and see that we've just passed Clark Street. Perfect!

I tell Brian excitedly, "Hey we've just officially entered Boystown. Clark Street is the western boundary, and Belmont is the southern boundary."

He stops sucking on my neck to look around. "Cool."

My eyes light on an orange fluorescent sign.

"The Abbott Hotel." It's a four-story red brick building. The sign advertises "color tv." In fact, each letter of "color tv" is a different color. How retro! The "T" and "E" in "Hotel" don't even light up. The hotel's name is also in orange fluorescent on both sides of the awning. I look up, and, despite the dying light, I see "Belmont Ave Hotel" engraved right below the roof.

"Brian! It's perfect! Wow! Free TV and free air. And the TV is color! Pretty swanky, huh?" I waggle my eyebrows. "The location is perfect. We could walk to all the bars from here."

Inspired, all thoughts of sex disappear, and I pull out my sketch pad. I walk over to a 2-foot-high brick post near a streetlamp. There are many such posts separated by iron gates spanning the building next to the hotel. I hop up and start drawing like mad. The hotel looks so retro and cool, and the awning looks really old. It's decorated with ornamental wrought iron and fashioned with iron piping.

When I finish, I jump down to show Brian. He's looking at me in awe. I laugh. The expression in his eyes makes me little nervous.

"What do you think?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "The drawing is beautiful, just like the artist."

I blush.

He slaps my ass. "However, I have my doubts about this hotel. It looks a bit rundown. What if it has cockroaches?"

"I'm sure it's fine. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Adventure sounds great until you see cockroaches scurrying along the floor."

"The location is perfect, it's so cool looking, and it's probably cheap. Come on!" I smile bright and take his hand.

******

I shake my head and laugh as Taylor pulls me into the hotel. He's my kryptonite. With one smile, he can get me to do nearly anything.

"Wow!" Taylor breathes.

There's no front desk. A young brunet man in tight black jeans and a light charcoal grey sweater sits at a small dark-red mahogany table with a matching roll-top desk behind him. A wrought-iron mirror decorated with golems hangs on the wall behind him. It has several panels. The lower floor is lit by two iron candelabra chandeliers. One is hanging in the lobby, and the other, in the next room, which contains a mahogany circular staircase.

"Wow, indeed!"

Even I'm impressed, and it takes a lot to impress me.

Taylor smiles at the man and asks if he has a free room. Distracted by the staircase and the chandeliers, I'm not paying too much attention to their conversation. A few minutes later, I look back. Taylor has a key in his hand; he's laughing at something the man said, his eyes shining bright. Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with jealousy. I know it's ridiculous, but I want to be the only one who makes Taylor laugh like that. I walk over to them quickly.

"Oh, Brian." Taylor takes my hand. "This is Stephen. He was telling me about the hotel and the club scene. Apparently, this was originally the Belmont Ave Hotel. It was built during the construction boom after the Great Chicago Fire in 1871."

I glare at Stephen and say flatly, "Wow. That's old. Ancient even."

Taylor pulls me so that I'm standing behind him, and wraps my arms around him, as though to tell me he's mine and proud of it.

Stephen laughs. "As beautiful as your boyfriend is (Taylor blushes, and I continue to glare), I'm not trying to pick him up. I have a boyfriend of my own, and we're monogamous. Well, outside of threesomes and foursomes."

I quirk an eyebrow, and Taylor laughs uncomfortably.

He continues, "In fact, Dennis and I just bought this hotel a few months ago. We've been fixing it up since. It was a real mess when we bought it. But it had so much potential."

"I guess I was out of line, but I won't apologize. I'd gladly offend all of Chicago, if necessary, to keep horny gay men and boys' groping hands off of Taylor. I'm well aware of how irresistible he is."

Stephen laughs again, more heartily this time. "That's the right attitude to have if you're going clubbing tonight. Everyone's gonna want to fuck him."

I hold Taylor a little tighter.

The older man asks Taylor, "Can you two be ready in an hour? We can meet you downstairs."

I look at Taylor in confusion.

Taylor smiles. "Oh, they upped the drinking age from 18 to 21 a couple years ago. But Stephen knows most of the bouncers. He can get us into the clubs."

I ask a little icily, "Who's going to watch the hotel if you go out?" I don't know how long I'll have with Taylor. I don't really want to split his attention with this man and his boyfriend.

He answers, "My sister." Then, he adds playfully, "With those plump lips and that luscious bubble butt, Taylor could get you into any bar you want. But he'd have to get a little friendly with the bouncers."

Sharply, I respond, "No way in hell is that happening."

The older man smiles. "I didn't think you'd like that option. So I guess we'll see you in an hour."

Taylor blushes a little. "Can we make it two hours? We have a lot of, uh, unpacking to do."

Stephen smirks. "You got it."

Then, Taylor shoots me a naughty smile and pulls me toward the staircase.

"I'll race you. Whoever makes it to the third floor first gets to be on top." He waggles his eyebrows at me.

Fuck, he's adorable. All my tension gone now, I smile bright. "You're on, Sunshine."

We race up the stairs. I win, of course. He must have known I would. I'm guessing that he just wanted to make me smile. And he does. Like no one else can.

******

I'm going out of my mind. I went to the park, walked the entire length of Liberty Avenue and back, and called everyone again. Justin is nowhere to be found. Suddenly, my cell phone rings. It's Justin!

"Sunshine, where the hell are you?"

"Chicago." He sounds sad.

I ask, "Chicago? What the hell are you doing there?" but I already know the answer.

Justin's crying now. "Brian, I need you. Stephen and Dennis are dead. They were positive."

"Are you staying there?"

"Yeah, in our old room. Apparently, they died a few years after we met them, but, for me, it's only been a few days. The last time I saw them, they were laughing and smiling and completely healthy. It just doesn't seem possible…"

Makes perfect sense to me. My whole world turned to shit when Taylor was no longer in it. It was even worse than before because I knew what I was missing.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll catch the next flight."

******

I'm sitting naked on the queen-sized bed that dominates the room. As much as I hated Stephen for making Taylor laugh with such abandon, I have to admit that he's got taste. The velvet comforter on the bed and the carpet are both a deep red, and the walls are crème colored. The lamps even match. The room lacks the tacky paisley or floral patterns one normally sees in cheap hotels. Taylor is standing in front of me. He starts taking off his clothes.

I whisper, "Slower."

I recline a little on the bed, and my legs fall open. My cock begins to harden just thinking about Taylor stripping for me. Seeing my desire, Taylor licks his lips, and his eyes glaze over with lust. He pulls his shirt up more slowly, unveiling his beautiful porcelain skin, now slightly flushed, an inch at a time. After he pulls it over his head, he drops it to the floor, turns around slowly, squats, and, then, swings his ass side to side, as he slowly comes back to a standing position. He looks over his shoulder at me, and, while unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, he winks, a small movement I feel in my cock. Then, he places his hands on his head as he wiggles out of them. I'm panting now. I sit up. Taylor hooks his thumbs in his briefs and slides them down as he bends over, his ass now a mere few inches from my face. My cock is throbbing in response. I'm dying to spread his cheeks and lick his bud until he begs me to fuck him. He slaps his ass, swivels around, and straddles me.

Taylor smiles bright, waggles his eyebrows, and asks, his breath a little labored, "How was that?"

I smile and answer, "Fucking HOT!"

He leans his head down so that his lips are close to mine, and I can't help but grab his cheeks and send my lips crashing onto his, my tongue exploring every inch of his mouth. Taylor moans softly. Fuck, I need to taste him. I flip him onto his back and crawl off the bed, getting on my knees. Taylor must like seeing me this way because he moans low in his throat. I gently caress his thighs as I spread his legs and dip my tongue inside his slit. Christ, he tastes good. Then I lick around the ridge separating the head and shaft of his cock. I start sucking the head, and Taylor begins to pant, his body turning a slightly deeper shade of pink. When I take his length in my mouth, he moans loudly. A few minutes later, he sits up fast, pushes me off of him, and growls, "I need you inside me now!"

I couldn't be happier to oblige. My cock is throbbing and leaking. He crawls onto his knees on the bed, and I climb up after him. I prepare him fast. As I start sliding in, Taylor pushes back so hard that I am all the way inside him in a couple of seconds. Taylor growls, "Move!" Damn, he gets bossy when he's horny.

I grab his hips and start fucking him, pumping him with slow thrusts and aiming for his prostate. Taylor lays his arms and face on the bed and moans, "Harder. Faster."

I do as he asks and half-whisper, half-moan, "Fuck, yeah!"

This is exactly what I need. I pull almost all the way out and ram my cock all the way inside his tight little ass over and over, as he moans, pants, and cries out with my name on his lips. It's just Taylor and me, and he's mine, all mine. I run my hands down his sweatslick back and thread my fingers into his hair. I'm hitting his sweet spot on every thrust now. Without even touching his cock, he starts cumming; then, his ass clamps down on my cock, and I start cumming, too. Cumming so fucking hard that I almost black out. I collapse onto his back, wrap my arms around his waist, and nuzzle his neck.

"I love you, Taylor," I whisper.

He whispers back, "I love you, too, Brian."

I slide out of Taylor, discarding the condom, and lie on the bed, taking him into my arms, not caring one bit that his belly's covered in cum. Guess that's proof enough that I really do love him. I hold him like that until he announces, "We need to get ready."

I groan as he stands up, trying to pull me to the bathroom for a shower.

I don't really want to wash. I wouldn't mind going to the clubs smelling of Taylor, but he's giggling and waggling his eyebrows as he pulls me up. That means he wants to suck me off in the shower. I can't pass up a chance to have his lips on my cock. I'd be insane to ever do that.

*****

Brian and I just had incredible sex, complete with a strip tease, and an amazing X-rated shower. Unfortunately, things started going downhill from there. It's a full-blown fashion crisis. I have one clubbing shirt, but Brian's already seen me in it, and Brian, being unemployed and in high school, is pretty much limited to what his parents buy him, which isn't much anyway, but they certainly don't shop at Torso. To make matters worse, the clock's running out. We only have 30 minutes to find something to wear. We throw something on and run downstairs. Okay, Brian walks coolly, confidently, like he can't be bothered to hurry, like the world will wait for him (and it usually does). But then, I grab his hand and start barreling down the stairs.

I nervously ask a young brunette at the desk if Stephen is back yet. Turns out, Stephen and Dennis actually live at the hotel.

Minutes later, we're in Stephen and Dennis's room. Dennis seems nice. Very friendly and a little silly. The perfect counterpoint to Stephen's sharp wit and skepticism. He has auburn hair and gray eyes.

Stephen pulls a few shirts out of a freestanding wardrobe, and he and I discuss what colors would best complement our (Brian and I) eyes and hair. When I realize that Brian hasn't put in his two cents yet, I look back. He's still in front of the wardrobe. Gaping. I stand behind him on my tippy toes and place my chin on his shoulder, peering over, trying to see what he sees. And then I do. Prada shoes. Armani suits. I forgot. Prada released its first line of men's shoes in 1985, and Armani suits had just become popular in the 1980s. The age of the power suit. For the first time, Brian had caught a glimpse of his Gods. I smile brightly and kiss his cheek. Then, I turn back to the task at hand. I don't want to interrupt such a spiritual moment.

Stephen and I decide that Brian would look best in a shiny button-down maroon shirt (with short sleeves) and black jeans. Thank goodness that Brian and Stephen are about the same size. Dennis is more my size, so he lends me a tight black short-sleeved shirt and low-cut blue jeans that cling to my ass. After we dress and spend a few minutes moussing (no hair gel yet) to achieve a freshly fucked look, we're out the door.

*****

Thankfully, we are right around the corner from most of the bars and restaurants in Boystown. There's no need to drive, which is great because the breeze is warm, and the air is fragrant with the scent of orchids, roses, and violets. Must be the flowers in Lincoln Park, just a couple miles East of here. We walk up to the corner of Belmont and Halstead and turn right. Hearing loud music that sounds a lot like funk, I look behind me. The source seems to be a brightly lit club with elegant-looking black drag queens out front. They are wearing taffeta gowns and dresses covered in sequins.

I ask, "What kind of club is that back there?"

Dennis replies, "Oh, that's Club LeRay. It has two floors. On one, there is the "Staircase to Nowhere," where drag queens perform songs by Patti LaBelle, Gladys Knight, and other R&B artists. On the other, there is a dance floor and DJs. Some say that the second floor is always so jumping that sweat drips down to the first floor along the walls."

At that, Brian quirks an eyebrow, and my eyes widen in astonishment.

Stephen adds, "It's an exaggeration, of course, but not much of one. We thought we'd go to Christopher Street, or C-Street, our favorite dance club. It's pretty cool and a lot less crowded."

I say with a laugh, "That's probably a good idea."

Stephen pats Brian on the back and agrees, "Indeed."

Brian just glares after him.

After seeing this version of Brian become insanely jealous of Stephen for talking to me, I didn't want to see what would happen if I were dancing in such a crowded club that everyone near me would be forced into my personal space. Don't get me wrong, possessive sex is amazingly HOT, but I hated seeing Brian so tense.

C-Street is similar to Babylon, yet very different. Hot young men, many of them half naked, are dancing.

The first song we hear is a remix of Miquel Brown's "So Many Men, So Little Time." The music has a thumpa, thumpa, thumpa of sorts, but it's less intense and slower. In addition, where Babylon would have go-go dancers, C-Street has huge televisions showing music videos. It's a shame Emmett isn't here. He'd know exactly how to dance to this. Praise Jesus-ing his way across the dance floor or some such thing.

When a Diana Ross remix of "I Will Survive" begins to play, I say, "I think I'm gonna need some ecstasy for this."

Stephen asks, "Ecstasy?"

Dennis laughs. "You're such an old man. He means Adam."

Stephen responds a little gruffly, "Well, he could have just said that."

Dennis pulls Stephen in for a kiss. "Don't be so sensitive, baby. The young kids have started calling it E or ecstasy.

I can't help but smile. They remind me of Brian and I, especially the Brian of the present.

When Stephen is sufficiently soothed, Dennis pulls away and says, "Here you go" and hands me two tablets.

"Cool. Thanks!"

I turn to Brian. "Have you ever tried E?"

He shakes his head no.

I giggle but, then, pause. If I tell him I've taken it before, he'll never believe I was a virgin before we met at the slumber party. I hate to mislead him, but I want him to know he's special, and he did 'deflower' me after all. It just hasn't happened yet. "I haven't, either, but from what friends have said, I think we're gonna LOVE it."

I put one tab in my mouth and grab Brian, kissing him passionately as I feed it to him. Then, I pop mine.

"We should switch to water. E can dehydrate you if you're not careful."

"So what does it feel like when it kicks in?" he asks. He's trying to act cool and relaxed, but I can tell he's a little nervous.

I smile brightly. "It's great." I pause. "I mean, from what I hear, it's great. On E, you're more sensitive to music. I've been told that you can feel it pumping through you like the blood in your veins. It's also a stimulant, so, as long as you drink lots of water, you are supposed to be able to dance or fuck all night. And…you feel happy and really close to whomever your with…physically and emotionally."

Brian smiles softly. "It does sound great."

"We'll we'll know soon enough. I think 20 or 30 minutes."

This is so crazy. I was with Brian when I took ecstasy for the first time, just not this version. Despite the small twinge of guilt I feel, I'm excited. I just know tonight's going to be incredible.

*******

On the way back to the loft, I decide to tell Ryder that I'm off to get the Brown Athletics account. That ought to buy me a week in Chicago. Of course, I'll actually have to get the account somehow, but I'm not too worried. I thrive under pressure and impossible odds. I call Cynthia and ask her to book me the next available flight to Chicago and arrange for a cab. I inform her that I'll be there a week wining and dining a potential client. A huge one. Then, I locate a box I'd put in the safe shortly after I met Justin, place it in my carry on, and finish packing.

Thanks to Cynthia, I arrive at the Abbott Hotel just two and a half hours after I called her. Standing in front of it, I think, "Wow, the place looks even more rundown now." I walk in and gape. The interior looks a million times worse. The gorgeous three-paneled mirror is gone, as is the mahogany table and roll-top desk. The chandeliers are still there, but the roof has obviously sprung a few leaks, as the ceilings are water stained, so the chandeliers are rusty. Thankfully, mahogany is resistant to wood rot, but the staircase still looks like it's falling apart, probably from hard use and neglect. It could definitely use a polish. Stephen must be rolling around in his grave. I walk straight up to our old room and knock.

Justin swings the door open and immediately falls into my arms. His eyes are red and swollen from crying. I hold him tight and kiss his forehead. We stand there in the hall embracing for a few minutes, and, then, I lead Justin into the room.

*****

I feel amazing. Taylor and I are dancing. He has his arms around my neck, and I have my hands around his waist. We touch each other everywhere, but it's not enough. Taylor rubs his soft cheek against mine and against my neck. I slip my hands underneath his shirt and rub his back…slide my hands down over his ass…thread my fingers into his hair…then pet his hair. We are kissing…licking lips and giving each other soft, tender kisses… pushing tongues into mouths and kissing passionately…rubbing our erections together until we are so close to cumming.

Dennis and Stephen are dancing next to us. Dennis leans over and notes, "There's a backroom here. I suggest you use it. The rest of the club is drooling just watching you two."

Taylor giggles and nods and, then, takes me by the hand. Dennis and Stephen accompany us.

Once there, Dennis and Stephen pick up a young blond. I ignore the nauseous feeling I get when I wonder why they chose someone so similar to Taylor and just observe. Stephen fucks the blond, while the blond fucks Dennis. Taylor watches me watching them and, then, whispers in my ear, "Brian."

I look at him and shake my head, laughing in embarrassment. "Sorry. I've just never seen that done before."

Taylor smiles and says, "It's okay."

He bites his lip and looks a little uncomfortable.

"Brian, if you want to be with someone else, I mean, for a blowjob or a fuck…I…I'd be okay with that. We are in Chicago, after all, in one of the oldest, most famous gay neighborhoods. It'd be a shame if you didn't enjoy some local culture."

He looks down.

"I know that you love me. Sex doesn't have to mean something."

By the end, his face is flushed.

I listen to him with an impassive expression, not wanting to show him how much I'm freaking out inside. Is he asking because he wants to fuck someone else? Or does he think I want to because I was watching Stephen and Dennis? I know I talk a good game to Mikey, and I never did care about anyone I blew or was blown by before, but Taylor's different. Doesn't he know that? I would never let anyone else fuck me, and I've never cared so much about anyone…never wanted so badly to please anyone. I want to be sure he knows…but I hesitate. Taylor would never intentionally hurt me, and I've already shared so much with him, yet I'm still nervous about making myself vulnerable. I've never been completely open with anyone before. I want to though. I'd say it was the E, but I think it's just Taylor.

I press my forehead gently against his. I ask, "Taylor, are you crazy?" and laugh.

Taylor seems puzzled.

I continue, "Why the hell would I want anyone here when I already have you? I've never seen anyone as beautiful, and no one has ever made me want the way you do."

Fuck, if I thought he was beautiful before, he's even more so now. He's a deeper shade of pink, and his eyes are slowly filling with tears.

His voice breaking, he breathes, "Brian, I…I can't tell you how happy you just made me. I want so much for you to want only me."

"There's no question that I do, Sunshine."

A second later, he's kissing me roughly and holding me tight. I can feel need and desire coming off him in waves. It mirrors my own. Suddenly, I find myself saying something I never thought I'd say in public. Hell, before I met Taylor, I never thought I'd say it in private, either.

"Taylor, I need you inside me."

"Wha-what?"

I laugh. "I want you to fuck me."

"Here?"

"Right here. Right now."

"In front of everybody?"

"Yes. Unless you don't want them to know I'm yours."

Taylor shakes his head roughly as he exclaims, "No, no. It's not that. Never that."

He kisses me deeply while unzipping and unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them and my underwear down. He nudges my nose with his and kisses me tenderly on the lips. Then he turns me to face the wall and bends down. He strokes my cheeks gently and lays soft kisses all over them. Every caress, every kiss sends currents of pleasure pulsing throughout my body. Then, he pulls my cheeks apart and starts rimming me. Fuck! He swirls his tongue around my entrance and pushes his tongue inside. Oh God! He slides it in and out, occasionally pulling all the way out to swirl his tongue around my entrance again. I'm pushing back and moaning, dying to feel more of him inside me, more sensation.

When he stands up, I whisper, "Skip the lube."

He stammers, "Ar-are you sure?"

"Yes," I reply firmly.

Soon Taylor is pushing his huge cock inside me. My opening stings and sears and throbs, but I relish it all. I just need to feel Taylor, to experience all of it, the pleasure and the pain.

I grunt, and Taylor pauses, pushing the back of my shirt up, placing open-mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach.

Panting, he says, "Off. Take it off."

I unbutton my shirt, and Taylor slides it off my arms, throwing it around his neck. Then he licks, sucks, and kisses my back, my shoulders, my neck, and my earlobes. My entire body is burning, throbbing, and rippling with pleasure beyond any I have ever experienced. Suddenly, I feel a need so strong I nearly cry. I guess Taylor wasn't kidding about the emotional closeness he mentioned. I turn my head to tell him to fuck me, but Taylor takes one look at my lips, and he's licking, sucking, and nibbling them. In short order, he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and kisses me so passionately that I feel dizzy. Not being able to tell Taylor what I need is so frustrating that I'm shaking. But, as usual, he seems to understand me and my body intuitively. When I begin to tremble, he pushes his cock all the way inside me. So incredibly relieved, I groan loudly. Taylor grabs my hips and moves his cock inside me until he hits my sweet spot, which I indicate with a deep moan. Then, he sets a steady rhythm. He does all this without ever breaking our kiss.

Too soon, I feel my orgasm bubbling up to the surface.

I pull my mouth away from Taylor's and manage to whisper, "Close. So close." He holds my hips tighter and starts pounding me, pounding my prostate.

I shout, "Fuck! Oh, Taylor!" and shoot hard against the wall at the same exact moment I feel Taylor's orgasm rip through him.

Panting, Taylor whispers, "I love you Brian."

I squeak out, "I love you, too, Taylor." I can't help chuckling at myself.

Taylor pulls out, discards the condom, wraps his arms around me, and nuzzles my back. I look over my shoulder at Taylor and see the other men watching us, smiling. I turn around so that Taylor is in my arms.

Dennis giggles, "That was quite a show you two put on for us."

*****

Justin's head is on my lap. I'm running my fingers through his hair and rubbing his back.

He half-sobs, half-says, "Stephen and Dennis seemed so healthy and happy when we met them. That means, Vic could just die one day, without warning. I mean, he seems so healthy now, but…"

Justin starts sobbing again. When he recovers a little, he continues, sounding so hopeless, "Stephen and Dennis were such great people, and they reminded me so much of us. What if one or both of us gets sick? Will everything we ever loved rot or fade away like this hotel?"

I reply sharply, a little more sharply than I mean to, "Neither one of us is going to get sick. They probably had HIV before people really knew what AIDS was."

Justin states solemnly, "We have to rescue this hotel. It was Stephen and Dennis's baby, their dream. We can't let people who obviously don't give a fuck about it continue to run it into the ground."

I agree, "You're right. We can't."

Justin sits up. "It was built in the 19th century. Maybe we can find a way to get it declared a heritage site or something."

"Yeah, maybe. Let me make some calls."

I stand up, and Justin lies back down, quickly falling asleep.

A few hours later, I wake him up. "Sunshine, I don't think Stephen and Dennis are dead. They may not even be sick."

Justin flashes me a million-watt smile that sends a shiver of happiness through my body. Christ, I'm fucked. Truly fucked. Since finding out that Taylor is Justin, I can't seem to control myself anymore. I don't even want to.

He asks, "What? How?"

"Stephen was ill for a while, and that's when the hotel changed hands. Something feels wrong about the sale. It was sold fast and for far less than it was worth. I'd bet a million bucks that a family member he trusted, maybe his sister, who had temporary power of attorney while he was sick sold it out from under them. I doubt that Dennis would have known what was going on before Stephen recovered. He probably spent all his time in the hospital with Stephen and left the sister to run the hotel."

"What a bitch!"

I just nod.

"I'm guessing that, after all the money they sunk into the hotel and Stephen's hospital bills, they couldn't afford to buy the hotel back or fight the sale in court. Hell, maybe they did fight…and lost."

"We have to find them!"

Justin's excitement is contagious. I find myself smiling and saying, "We will, Sunshine. We will."

*******

Justin looks down at the bed for a moment and then back up at me, pain and uncertainty clouding his eyes.

His voice soft, he asks, "Are we going to talk about what happened back in Pittsburgh?"

"Let's go get ice cream," I counter.

I am not quite ready for that conversation. I am nearly overwhelmed with feelings for Taylor, which had only intensified with time, desperate hopes I had clung to over the years, memories that had haunted me in my dreams, guilt plaguing me about the way I had treated Justin while trying to remain faithful to Taylor, and confusion as to how to proceed now that I know they are one and the same person.

Perceiving Justin's anxiety, I add, "We'll talk about it soon. I promise. I just think we should get some ice cream first."

Justin smiles shyly, hopefully, and replies enthusiastically, "Ok. Like I could ever turn down ice cream."

I laugh. It's true. He really is a whore for ice cream. That thought prompts confused memories, Taylor sucking on his ice cream cone lasciviously and Justin, straddling me, both of us naked, as he dribbles frozen yogurt onto my body and, then, licks it off.

As we head down the stairs, I hear Taylor's laughter, feel it bubbling through me. I remember the warmth of his hand in mine and rub my hand unconsciously. I cough and look down. I don't want Justin to see me cry, and I am crying. I can feel Justin's eyes on me. He's probably reading my mind, my heart. He could always do that. Then I wonder, "Who's he? Justin or Taylor?"

My mind flashes back to our (Taylor and I) first boxcar ride. Us laughing and rolling around on the floor. Cool air rushing over our feet. The feel of his bare skin on mine. A chaste touch that made me feel so happy and connected, yet so vulnerable and scared. Taylor removing his clothes slowly, an intense look in his eyes as they held mine. Me standing naked in front of him, and not just physically.

Justin touches my back, a gentle caress offering silent support. I know he wants me to know that he's here with me, there with me. I can't look at him, but when we get outside, I take his hand in mine, cross the street, and head toward the ice cream parlor we visited so long ago. I sneak a glance at Justin. He looks flushed but happy. I hold his hand a little tighter.

When we arrive, I look where the ice cream parlor should be and gape when I see a parking lot instead.

I just stand there gaping. Justin watches me uneasily.

This is exactly it. The hurdle I'm having difficulty leaping. Every moment Taylor and I shared meant so much to me. Then he was gone. Time continued to pass, but everything fell apart, took me further from the time we shared, further from him. The world seemed empty, its beauty fading. The time I spent with Taylor seemed to be the pinnacle of my existence; everything after that was necessarily less, disappointing.

Justin's fateful appearance in my life changed that somewhat, but I was too wrapped up in the past and my guilt to fully enjoy what we shared. I refused to let him all the way in. I can't explain it, but at that moment, I could feel something inside me give, something slipping out of joint.

Suddenly, desperately, I grab Justin, turning him to face me and placing my hands on his neck. I look deep into his eyes, eyes that have widened in surprise, but that are filled with love, and I whisper, "I missed you. So fucking much. I didn't know. I couldn't see."

I shake my head. "I was a fool. A blind fool. I love you, Taylor, Justin, Sunshine…whatever you want to call yourself, I love and want only you."

I can feel Justin trembling beneath my hands.

I pull his body against mine roughly and send my lips crashing down onto his, licking and nibbling on his lips, sucking on his tongue, plunging mine into his mouth and ravishing it, taking possession. Justin responds in kind and just as passionately, just as desperately. I feel tears dripping down my face, but I'm not sure whether they are his or mine. Probably both. I pick him up and carry him into the parking lot, setting him on his feet near the building that was once adjacent to the ice cream parlor. I kiss his face and neck as I cling to him, rubbing every part of me against some part of him.

Justin moans, "Brian, I need…I need you inside me, right the fuck now."

I couldn't be happier to oblige. I lift one foot and then the other, removing his socks and shoes, and unbutton and unzip his pants, removing them completely. Then I turn him, kneel, and push his cheeks apart, licking his entrance frantically. Soon, I am pushing my tongue inside him, fucking him with it. Justin pushes back and moans. That's all the preparation I can handle. I stand up, pull down my pants, sheath my painfully erect cock, and lift him into my arms. With one hand I pull his ass closer, until my cock is poised at his entrance.

Justin breathes in my ear, "Quickly, Brian. I need you all the way inside me now."

That's all I need to hear. With one thrust, I bury my cock completely inside him. We both moan in response.

I angle my hips so that I hit his prostate and start thrusting in and out slowly.

In this way, Justin and I make love. In a place that was once special to Taylor and I and that is, serendipitously, also beneath a streetlamp, just like the one Justin had been leaning on when I first laid eyes on him, or so I believed.

Every kiss is an "I'm sorry"; every moan, an "I want you"; and every "Justin," an "I need you." I hope he understands.

Renewing our connection, the past and present merge, and Justin and Taylor become one in my mind, my heart, forming one bright ray of sunshine that has and, I hope, will always light up my life.

*******

Walking down Halsted with Brian next to me, Stephen and Dennis a few feet ahead of us, is such a surreal experience. Halsted looks like a brighter, busier, longer Liberty Avenue. The E these days must be stronger than what I'm used to because the street seems to have its own unique energy and I can feel it coursing through me. Brian is smiling and laughing more than I have ever seen him, and he can't help but touch me in some way every few seconds. When I realize this, I smile brightly and start counting Mississippis.

one Mississippi two Mississippi shoulder bump

three Mississippi four Mississippi face caress

five Mississippi six Mississippi neck nuzzle

seven Mississippi eight Mississippi gentle kiss

nine Mississippi ten Mississippi ass squeeze

Finally, I grab his hand and lace our fingers together. Then, he alternates between squeezing my hand a little tighter and rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. Every once in a while, he pulls me against him and kisses my lips tenderly. I'm having such a wonderful time that I groan a little when we reach our destination, the Loading Dock. This club, like C-Street, is filled with beautiful dancing men and loud music, but the men are a little older, and the music is more disco-y.

Soon, Brian and I are dancing, his arms around my waist, mine on his shoulders, my fingers straying into his hair. Brian starts sucking on my neck. In response, I tilt my head and moan softly. Suddenly, I feel someone grinding against my ass. I whip my head around and growl, "Fuck off!" The man, a tall, beefy brunet, ignores me. Brian is glaring at him, which has no effect whatsoever. I move closer to Brian, hoping that the man will get the idea, but that just makes him more aggressive. He grabs my hips and pulls me against him roughly.

Brian's eyes grow cold and dark. Their icy expression sends a shiver down my spine. He pulls me out of the man's grasp and pushes me behind him. He and the man stare at one another for several interminable moments. Then, the man moves toward me. Before I know what's happening, the man is on the floor, holding a broken nose. Holy crap! Brian had just decked a man who had a few inches and about 50 pounds on him.

I scan the bar looking for Dennis and Stephen. Brian had gotten in a good punch, but the man looks like he could squeeze the life out of Brian, and, now, he's pissed. When I finally see Dennis and Stephen, a wave of relief washes over me. Apparently, they'd been watching us. Now, they're headed our way. Stephen is walking toward us purposefully, clenching his fists.

The man clambers to his feet and swings at Brian. Brian manages to dodge the punch, but, in doing so, he leaves his side wide open. The man quickly recovers and elbows Brian in the ribs with so much force that I can hear the dull thud over the music. Before I know it, I'm punching the man in the gut. That was a mistake. Despite his large girth and relatively undefined body, he's all muscle. I feel like I punched a wall. Worse yet, that gives him another opportunity to grab me. The man seizes my wrist and starts pulling me toward him, but Brian thrusts himself between us. I wriggle my wrist free, and, then, Brian shoves the man. Hard. So hard that it actually sends him back a few paces.

Unfortunately, the man's quick on the uptake. He moves closer to Brian and swings, and, with a loud crack, his fist makes contact with Brian's jaw, sending Brian roughly to the floor. Brian scrambles back to his feet, and the man throws another punch, but, thankfully, the cavalry arrives in the nick of time. Stephen steps in between them, grabs the man's fist, and squeezes it so hard that the man cringes audibly. I look back at Dennis in astonishment, but he just winks. Then, I pull Brian back so that his body's pressed against mine and wrap my arms around his waist. Stephen continues to squeeze the man's fist while twisting it behind his back. Finally, he lets go, and the man falls to the ground. Suddenly, we hear some yelling and see a couple of bears heading in our direction. They are pushing people out of the way roughly to get to us faster, and they look incensed. The man's buddies, no doubt.

Dennis grabs Stephen's hand and starts pulling him toward the door and motions to us to follow. Brian kisses my cheek and takes my hand, and we head toward the door. We make it out before the bears reach us and quickly enter the bar next door, LA Connection. Dennis leads us all the way to the back and, then, unlocks and takes us through a nondescript door. It blends so well with the wall that I wouldn't even have noticed it. Dennis locks the door again and calls out for someone named Mary. This place appears to be a small restaurant. There is a short counter with a few stools beside it and a couple of tables. Dennis points to a table and urges us to sit down. Soon, he returns with a short blonde heavyset woman and a couple of ice packs. He hands one to me, and I gently hold it to Brian's jaw, where a dark bruise is already starting to form.

Brian flinches a little and then laughs. "It's cold."

Mary chuckles. "Better that than let more of your pretty face turn purple."

Brian nods. "True."

Dennis introduces us. "Mary, these are our friends Brian and Taylor."

Mary says, "Nice to meet you. I'll bring coffee and some stew."

Dennis smiles, "Thanks mom!"

She pats his cheek and heads into the back.

I direct Brian to hold the ice pack on his jaw and unbutton his shirt to check his other injury. I place both of my hands against his rib cage and ask, "Breathe for me, would you, Brian?"

He looks puzzled, but inhales deeply and exhales slowly. As he does I lean closer, listening.

I declare confidently, "No broken ribs."

Brian asks, "How do you know?"

I smile brightly and reply, "I didn't hear any grating or feel any unusual movement when you were breathing."

He shakes his head and smiles. "You are amazing, Taylor."

I blush and look back down. Seeing that he's starting to develop a bruise, I grab the other ice pack and hold it against his ribs.

Brian continues to stare at me, a small smile on his lips, which makes me a little nervous.

I look over at Dennis and ask, "So Mary's your mother?"

He smiles. "No, more like a surrogate mother. I've known her since I was a teenager."

That reminds me of Brian and Deb. I wonder what Mary protected Dennis from.

"So she owns this restaurant?"

"Yeah. She's open for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the post-bar rush, but she closes in between. She makes what she makes, it changes depending on the meal and the day, so she doesn't need a cook or waiters and waitresses. Tonight, she's serving beef stew. Pretty soon, she'll open for the bar customers."

"Wow, cool."

Suddenly, I hear loud noises that sound like elephants stampeding. They seem to be coming from the second floor. In short order, a handful of boys, maybe 15 or 16 years old, emerge from a staircase I hadn't noticed. They wave at Dennis as they exit into the bar.

Brian and I shoot each other puzzled glances and, then, turn to Dennis.

Brian asks, "Who are they?"

Dennis's eyes darken a little, and he looks down.

Stephen answers, "They're hustlers."

My eyes widen.

"Mary's got a big heart. She takes in as many strays as she can. She can't stop them from hustling, but she can give them a bed and meals."

I silently pray that that isn't how Dennis knows her.

*******

I'd had my doubts about a restaurant this small located behind a bar, especially since the owner lives upstairs with the friendly neighborhood hustlers and serves only one dish at a time, but, after a few bites, I have to admit, the stew's delicious. Mary had brought out our food and, then, had sat down to chat while we ate.

She smiles and asks brightly, "So how did you all meet? Was it a foursome?"

Taylor's eyes widen. I don't blame him. She looks so sweet; it's hard to imagine that she even knows what gay sex is, let alone, talks about foursomes.

Stephen laughs, and, shooting me a broad smile, he answers, "We met at the hotel. Actually, I was hoping to pick Taylor up. You know how much Dennis likes blonds…and Taylor's got such a great ass…"

Fucking bastard. I knew it! I shoot him a death glare. Taylor blushes. He looks uncomfortably between Stephen and I and takes my hand in his under the table, giving it a squeeze. My anger flags a bit at that. Dennis, picking up on the tension, smiles weakly and elbows Stephen. That does not deter him in the slightest.

He continues, "But Brian is so possessive that I had to give up on that idea quick. That's how he got so banged up. Some bear wanted to sample Taylor's luscious ass."

Dennis laughs but then tries to look stern and warns, "Stephen!"

I just roll my eyes.

Taylor beams. "My hero!" He kisses me and turns to Mary. "You should have seen him. The guy was huge, all muscle, but Brian decked him, knocked him on his ass and broke his nose!"

I look over at Taylor and smile a little but, then, look down, remembering. "That shot was the only good one I got."

Dennis interjects, "But he was huge, and you're still so young."

Stephen laughs and adds, "Yeah, you just need to grow a bit, maybe hit the gym."

I glare at him but, then, smirk and say to Taylor, "Old men are so wise!"

Now, it's Stephen's turn to glare. Taylor, Dennis, and Mary have a good hearty chuckle at that.

Mary looks at Taylor and I and smiles. "You two look so good together, you know, because you're so different…in coloring, size, and, even personality. You complement each other well."

Taylor flashes her a million-watt smile. He exclaims, "Thanks! I couldn't agree more."

Then, he smiles at me. From the moment I saw that smile, I knew it would be the death of me. All my anger vanishes, and I offer him a small smile of my own. He kisses my lips and, then, turns back to his stew, but he continues to hold onto my hand. I shake my head and laugh. It's a tossup as to whether he likes food or me better, but I guess I should be glad that that's my only competition. If he meets a hot chef, I'm fucked.

In answer to her question, I say, "We're on a trip. Chicago was our first stop, but we're planning to leave tomorrow."

Mary shakes her head. "You can't leave so soon! Tomorrow's Sunday dinner."

She reaches over with a napkin and wipes a bit of stew off of Taylor's face.

She continues, "You'll probably be forced to eat a lot of junk on the road. But you're growing boys. You should stay and have another home-cooked meal before you take off. You're both too skinny, especially you Brian."

Dennis sighs. "Mom. You shouldn't pressure them."

Taylor looks at me and says, concern evident in his voice, "Maybe we should stay an extra day. You should probably rest a bit before we go. You're bruised up pretty bad."

I smirk. "She had you at 'home-cooked meal' didn't she?"

Taylor blushes. I smile softly. "If you want to stay, we'll stay."

Then, he smiles again. I'd walk through fire to see him smile. Another day of Stephen's taunting is a small price to pay.

Later, after we get back to the hotel, Taylor asks, "Is it really okay that we're staying an extra day?"

I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. Then, I pull back and look at him. "Yeah, I probably should get a little extra rest."

Taylor smiles, and he waggles his eyebrows. He purrs, "You were so great tonight! I think you deserve a reward."

That goes straight to my cock. I try to act nonchalant. "It was really nothing."

Taylor sighs in exasperation. "Shut up and kiss me."

I quickly oblige. I nudge his nose with mine and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Apparently, I'm moving too slow for his liking. He cups my cheeks gently, taking care not to touch my bruise, thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and explores every inch. I pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He moans softly and starts rubbing up against me. Feeling his hardness against mine makes me dizzy with desire. I squeeze his ass and, then, start caressing it gently.

Taylor pulls back and giggles. More seriously, he says, "That was the bone of contention tonight, wasn't it? Well, to the victor go the spoils." Then he winks at me. I fucking love it when he does that. He turns around and starts rubbing my erection with his incredible ass. I can't help but moan. He steps away to remove his clothes and mine. He hands me lube and a condom and, then, bends over the dresser. It has a mirror attached. Fuck, this is going to be hot.

When I don't move right away, Taylor clears his throat and wiggles his ass. Christ, he's gorgeous like that, all spread out and waiting for me. I take a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. I want this to last a while. I walk up behind him, run my hands all over his ass, and rub my cock against it, along his crack. I open him up fast because I can't wait. Soon, I'm pushing my throbbing cock inside him. I'm halfway in when I hear him grunt, so I stop, but Taylor doesn't want to wait. He looks at me in the mirror, licks his lips, and pushes back hard. Fuck! I grab his hips and thrust all the way inside him.

His eyes glaze over with lust, and he moans, "Fuck me, Brian. Fuck me hard."

He's fucking killing me. I'll never last now. Panting, I angle my hips until my cock grazes his prostate. When it does, Taylor closes his eyes and bites his lip. He's so beautiful. I hold his hips tighter and start pumping him, pulling almost all the way out and then thrusting back in hard. As he watches me fucking him, he starts stroking his cock and licks his lips again. I slide my hands along his chest, trace circles around his nipples, and, then, tug gently on his nipple ring. That sends him over the edge. He closes his eyes tight and cries out, "Fuck! Oh Brian, Brian!" as he cums. I thrust a couple more times before cumming, with Taylor's name on my lips.

Fuck yeah. I'd gladly take a million punches if I could have Taylor at the end of every day, well, and throughout, too, if possible. He's worth everything.


	4. Tracking Down a Judge and Other Stuff

I wake up and can't help but smile, finding myself wrapped up in Brian's strong arms. I still can't believe that, just yesterday, Brian confessed his love for me. After our tryst in the parking lot, we'd returned to the hotel and spent the rest of the evening and part of the night fucking. I'm deliciously sore. I nuzzle Brian's neck and kiss his lips gently. He breathes, "Sunshine" and holds me a little tighter. He is sleeping so peacefully that I can't bring myself to wake him up. I crawl out of the bed carefully, trying not to disturb him. I throw on some clothes, thinking that I'll go get some coffee. Brian is usually a little cranky and confused before coffee. Only when I step out of the room do I realize that it's not morning yet. What the hell? I am unaccustomed to waking up in the middle of the night. I turn to go back into the room but stop when I hear yelling. I walk up to the staircase and peer down. I see a short bald man in an ugly brown suit arguing with a tall, lanky, sandy-blond-haired teenager. The kid looks about 15, and, from his dirty hair and torn clothing, I guess that he's a runaway, probably a hustler.

Ugly brown suit man yells, "I don't care how you feel or what you think! Just do what I tell you faggot!"

I flinch at that.

The boy laughs. "That's kind of the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

Ugly brown suit man backhands the kid so hard he hits the ground.

I gasp and, then, bite my lip, hoping they didn't hear me.

The kid mutters, "Fucking bastard" as he rubs his face and stands up.

The boy folds his arms on his chest and glares at the man. He hisses, "I can't. I won't. He's a nice man. He treats me so well. How can I repay kindness with betrayal?"

Ugly brown suit man steps closer to the boy and leers, "If you don't, maybe I'll lock you in the basement and invite some friends over. Trust me, we won't be kind when we take turns pounding your ass."

I shiver, and I see the boy pale. He responds quietly, all his determination gone, replaced with fear and resignation, "Fine."

He looks away and continues, "What exactly do you want me to do?"

I see tears in the boys eyes, and my chest constricts.

The man laughs. "Nothing too difficult. Just convince him to fuck you here. We'll do the rest. All our hourly-rate rooms are wired for picture and sound."

He shoves the kid and hands him some cash. He explains with a sneer, "For your trouble."

The boy looks torn. He obviously doesn't want to take it, but he'd be a fool not to. He must come to the same conclusion because he closes his eyes and grabs the money and, then, storms out.

Ugly brown suit man rubs his hands together and laughs. Then, he growls, "Judge Corbett, you're ass is finally mine."

I wait until the man goes into the office and, then, go back into the room and wake Brian up. I pull him off the bed and toss him clothes. "We have to go!" I whisper urgently.

Brian asks, "What's wrong? Why are you whispering?"

I shoot him a pleading look. Brian stops asking questions and dresses. Then, we make our way to a 24-hour diner.

I sit beside Brian, and he puts his arm around me. Once I've related the story, I ask nervously, "What should we do? Warn the judge?"

Brian looks thoughtful. He responds slowly, "I'm not so sure that's a good idea. If we do, won't they gang rape the kid?"

I rub my forehead and close my eyes for a moment. Then, I suggest hopefully, "We could get the judge to help us find the kid and, then, hide him."

Brian sighs and replies, "Sunshine, we don't even know whom we're dealing with…but, from what you told me, it might be the mob. How the hell are we supposed to protect some kid from the mob, especially in Chicago? Now, if we were in the Pitts, we'd have more resources…you know people we could trust, places to hide him…"

I open my eyes wide. I have the perfect idea. I ask, "What about Mary? I mean, even if she couldn't hide him herself, maybe she'd know someone else who could."

Brian's eyes lose focus as he ponders this option. Slowly, he says, "I guess it couldn't hurt to ask. I wanted to speak to her anyway. She probably knows where Dennis and Stephen are. If not, she should have more information than I've been able to gather on my own."

I ask, "Do you think this situation is connected to Stephen and Dennis's disappearance and the hotel being bought out from under them?"

Brian sighs. "Probably."

I shiver, slide my arms around Brian's waist, and snuggle deeper into his chest. He holds me tighter.

He says softly, "Don't worry, Sunshine. Everything will work out okay. We'll find them, and I'll keep you safe…"

I finally start to relax. I'm so busy nuzzling that I completely miss the last word, uttered so low it's below a whisper.

"…somehow."

*************

Justin and I have been trying to locate Judge Corbett. Unfortunately, several male judges by the name of Corbett live in Chicago.

I throw myself on a park bench near a payphone. In an effort to help the little hustler Justin saw earlier that day, we had gone to Lincoln Park with a phone book. A little low tech for me, but we don't know for whom 'ugly brown suit man,' as Justin calls him, works, so I don't want to involve anyone in the Pitts, and I think it's best to avoid cell phones. They can be tapped into and traced pretty easily. On top of that, we can't be sure that our room isn't 'wired for picture and sound,' so we couldn't stay there.

I sigh at the list of five judges we've managed to assemble and ask, "What the fuck do we do now? We can't exactly call each one and ask, 'Do you like teenage boy ass?'"

Justin, who is presently lying on the grass, wrinkles his nose very cutely. He agrees, "True."

Suddenly, he sits straight up. I can almost see the glowing light bulb over the little twat's head.

He points to his chest. He cries, "Me!"

I deadpan, "You're fucking brilliant," smirking as I shoot him a disdainful look. "You're fucking lucky you have a gorgeous ass and lips made for sucking cock."

Justin glares at me and mutters, "Asshole," but, then, he smiles and asks, "What am I?"

I roll my eyes. "Now you're having an existential crisis? This is hardly the time, Sunshine."

Justin sighs deeply. "Sometimes you can be so dense, Brian. I. Am. A. Teenage. Boy."

When what he is proposing dawns on me, he rolls his eyes. I smile, my eyes no doubt lighting up and doing a little dance as they do whenever the little fucker impresses me. "Aha. So you wiggle your luscious ass in front of each one…"

He lies back down and finishes my sentence with a Sunshine-y smile, "And then you use that finely honed gaydar to sniff out the right judge."

I stand up, walk over to him, and lower myself on top of him. I breathe, "Twat" as I brush a few strands of silky blond hair off his forehead.

"You know I hate it when couples finish each other's sentences."

Justin's eyes nearly bug out of his head. He repeats, "Couples?"

I brush my lips lightly over his and reply softly, "Now who's being dense? When I said that 'I love and want only you,' what did you think I meant?"

Justin looks at me intensely and whispers, "I love and want only you, too, Brian."

Then, his face flushes, his eyes darken, and he licks his lips.

I laugh and say, "Oh…Sunshine wants some…If I don't put out, will you kick my ass to the curb?"

Justin giggles, but, then, he's all business again. He grabs my ass and starts grinding our cocks together. I groan and capture his plump lips in a passionate kiss. We might need to visit the restroom before heading out. I can't have him spreading it around that I don't please 'my man.'

********

Brian is indulging me in my newest obsession. Wait, I should back up. We've been spending the day in bed, so Brian can 'rest,' but he hasn't exactly been resting. I did try to convince him that he shouldn't be moving around so much, but, when he snapped, "Your parents and/or their associates could show up at any moment and take you from me…I don't fucking want to rest," I immediately stopped. I contented myself with getting him to pose for me once in a while, which required him to lie still.

I tried not to think about it, but the truth is, at some point, I would just disappear from his life. The thought had me so desolate that I felt like crying every time it crossed my mind. So we've been fucking and sucking the thought away. I must say, even though we were both sad for a while, that made our lovin more urgent, even desperate. Fucking HOT!

Ever since last night's 'mirror fuck,' I've become quite the voyeur. When Brian fell asleep while I was sketching him, I ran downstairs and quickly located Dennis. I didn't know how long Brian would nap, and I wanted to be there when he awoke. He'd been a little extra possessive today, not that I can blame him with the depressing thought that began our day. I asked the auburn-haired man, "Do you have any extra mirrors sitting in a closet somewhere?" He laughed and raised an eyebrow, but he managed to find three freestanding mirrors.

So now, Brian and are adding to our repertoire of 'mirror fucks.' I place one mirror on each side of the bed and one at the end. Then, I climb on the bed and get on all fours. I watch Brian in the right mirror as he rims me, swirling his deliciously hot, wet tongue around my entrance and then pushing it inside me. All this I could have imagined, but what I could never have been privy to before is the look on his face as he does so. I see lust and love in his eyes, but, unexpectedly, also wonder, and, every time I moan or pant, his eyes light up. This observation has me licking my lips and closing my eyes tight as I swallow hard, trying to slow the wave of pleasure washing over me. Soon, I can't take it anymore, and I half-moan, half-growl, "Brian, Brian, fuck me, fuck me NOW!"

He quickly obliges. Soon, he is pushing his huge cock inside me. He gets a rhythm going, aiming for my prostate. I ask him to slow down. Watching his cock slowly slide in and out of me is so incredibly hot. Even better, Brian is desperately trying to delay his orgasm, but it's a struggle. His face is flushed and sweaty, and he keeps biting his lip. He's so fucking beautiful. Seeing him bite his lip so hard he draws blood sets me on fire. I start pushing back and cry out, "Fuck! Fuck me hard. Please."

I see him relax finally, and he pounds my ass like there's no tomorrow. Wave upon wave of pleasure is passing through me, and it takes everything in me to keep my eyes open. I have to watch him cum. I grab my cock and stroke it a few times, hard and fast. Suddenly, my eyes widen, and I moan loudly as streams of cum shoot out of me. When my ass clamps down onto Brian's cock, his eyes shoot open, he throws his head back, and he thrusts inside me once more, as far and as hard as he can, arching his back, his mouth half open, crying out, "Fuck! Fuck! Oh Taylor, Taylor. I love you. I love you." That last declaration is half muffled, as he collapses on top of me. I laugh as I look down at my cock, which is already stirring again, and breathe, "I love you, too, Brian."

**************

As it turns out, three of the five Judges Corbett, although they live in Chicago, are circuit court judges for surrounding areas, Lake, DuPage, and Will counties. So we only needed to 'test' the remaining two. They were both in the criminal division. But first, we needed to get access to them, which required sweet talking someone at the clerk's office. As we learned, the court clerk oversaw all divisions; however, a deputy clerk and an assistant deputy clerk worked in the criminal division. Brian and I had been at the office for an hour, just watching, though we appeared to be searching public records on computers provided for that purpose. The deputy and assistant deputy were both women, a short voluptuous, bubbly blonde with curly hair and a tall skinny red head. The red head didn't seem friendly at all, but the blonde seemed a little too friendly. She was crushing on Brian, and hard. She kept sneaking glances at him and smiled brightly every time she caught his eye. Worse, or better, yet, depending on how you looked at it, at every opportunity, she was bending or leaning over, so Brian could check out her 'wares.' After a while, I wanted to strangle her. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd started humping his leg.

After an hour of pretending to be engrossed in public records and suppressing the urge to commit murder, the red head finally leaves the front part of the office, so Brian makes 'his move.' As much as I don't want to see this, I can't leave her alone with him. We walk up to the desk, and Brian smiles seductively.

Bubbly smiles brightly when she sees him and literally runs over to us. I roll my eyes and sigh. Brian chuckles.

Bubbly says, "Hi! Can I help you?"

Brian drawls, "I sure hope so. My little brother (I cringe) was supposed to interview a Judge Corbett from this division for his campus newspaper, but he managed to mislay the judge's contact information and the place they planned to meet for lunch; you know how freshmen are, so disorganized."

Bubbly giggles. "Yeah. My little brother's dorm room is a disaster area."

Brian nods and smiles. "Exactly. Is there any way that you could help? Maybe find out where the judge is lunching today? I know Jussy would recognize him by face (As if co-opting my sister's nickname for me weren't enough of a crime, the bastard actually ruffles my hair). This is his first feature article. If he screws it up, he's back to fact checking for other reporters."

I try to look nervous, and, I must do a decent job, because Bubbly looks at me compassionately. I imagine how I would kill her if given the chance.

Bubbly scrunches up her face and replies, "Well, I'm not supposed to give out information like that…"

Brian leans closer to Bubbly, whispers in her ear, and kisses her cheek. I can't hear what he says, but she turns three shades of pink, giggles like a schoolgirl, and rushes off.

I tilt my head and say sweetly, "This blond bimbo's exhibitionism continually threatens to bring up my breakfast, and her giggles have given me an excruciating headache, and yet if I were to kill her, I would be the one to go to jail…"

Brian chuckles and squeezes my ass.

I move away and shoot him a horrified look. "Brian! We're brothers! That's incest!"

He mutters, "Twat" just as Bubbly returns.

She looks around nervously. In a stage whisper, she says, "Here (She hands him a piece of paper). There are actually two of them, but I managed to find out where both are having lunch."

I notice that her number is also included.

Brian takes the piece of paper and gives her another seductive smile. He purrs, "Thank you (looking down at the paper), Suzanne. You just saved my brother's ass."

She blushes and smiles. As we are walking out, she cries, "Oh I forgot to ask your name!" but then, not discouraged in the slightest, "Call me!"

Not too bright, is she?

As we walk to the rental car, I say, stroking my cheek and imitating her high-pitched voice, "What a hunk! (sigh) I'm never going to wash this cheek again!"

Brian smiles and bumps my shoulder.

**************

We decide to start with Judge Hubie Corbett. I think Hubie is a ridiculously stupid name, even though it stems from an Old German word meaning 'shining intellect,' or so says the resident genius. Hubie is dining at the Bistrot Margot, a French restaurant that's not too far from Boystown, just south of Lincoln Park. I'm tempted to use the valet parking, since parking is such a bitch in Chicago, but Justin points out that we might need to make a quick exit, so we park seven blocks away (in the nearest parking spot) and walk.

When we arrive, a server approaches. I wave him away with a curt "We're waiting for someone" and scan the room looking for a man who could be a judge. The restaurant is cozy and dark, even though it's daytime. There are few windows and those there are have curtains. The tables are small with black cotton tablecloths and small candles sitting in the center. Suddenly, my eyes light upon a middle-aged man poring over papers. I nudge Justin gently. I think we have our man. We wait for an opening. When the man heads toward the bathroom, which is near the front of the restaurant, Justin makes his move. Sketchpad in hand, Justin walks toward the man and bumps into him. Then, he drops down, looking embarrassed when some of his loose drawings fall out onto the floor. He attempts to pick them up quickly. The man joins him on the floor, helping him to collect the drawings, but stops to examine one, which just so happens to be of Justin and I fucking in couple different positions. Justin manages to blush a deep pink as he says, very softly, "I think that's mine."

The man looks up, appearing a little surprised, and smiles in embarrassment. He replies, "Of course. Here you are."

Justin casts his gaze downward as he takes it and, then, peeks at the man from under his long blond eyelashes and purrs, "Thank you."

The man gazes at him with undisguised lust. Well, he's most definitely a fag. No need for my exceptionally fine-tuned gaydar. He might as well have made an announcement. But that's Justin. No fag, closeted or out and proud, can resist his charms. They gape and stare as though hypnotized.

***************

Dennis, Stephen, Taylor, and I arrive at Mary's restaurant for dinner. Apparently the restaurant is closed on Sundays because only Mary and the five hustlers we glimpsed the night before are there.

When Mary sees us, she runs over and gives us all hugs. When she gets to me, I take a step back, hoping she'll take the hint, but, then, Taylor shoots me a sad look, so I end up stepping forward again and allowing her to hug me. For good measure, I even throw an arm around her. Maybe that will score me points with Taylor. I think it does because he beams at me after.

Then, Mary starts introducing the hustlers. She points to a tall thin blond with gray eyes and pale, pale white skin, so pale it looks slightly blue, and tells us his name is Gabe. He nods but doesn't say anything. His eyes quickly lose focus, as though we barely register on his radar.

Next, she introduces Dan, who has black shiny hair and blue eyes that are darker and cloudier than Taylor's. He is about Taylor's height. He mutters hello and, then, retreats a bit so that he's standing behind the other boys, watching us with eagle-eyed vigilance.

Before Mary can introduce him, a boy with bronze skin, brown hair, and amber eyes steps forward. So far he's the only one who seems genuinely happy to meet us. He tells us that his name is Rafael and smiles warmly. Taylor's eyes widen when he mentions his name, no doubt wondering if Rafael's namesake is the artist. Rafael gestures to a tall boy with brown hair and hazel eyes, stating that his name is Sam. Sam approaches confidently, tells us he's happy to meet us, and shakes each of our hands, his grip firm, but not painfully so, and his movements slow and sure. I make a point of introducing Taylor as my boyfriend. He's probably just a friendly person responding to Taylor's own warmth, but the way he looks at Taylor, and the way he held onto his hand longer, makes me uncomfortable. It doesn't help that he and I look similar. Course, I'm a little taller than he is, and he is thicker in the chest, but that doesn't make me feel better in the slightest.

The last of the five saunters up and introduces himself as Nevan. I recognize the name as being Irish, and he looks the part, a tall, lanky red head with emerald-green eyes. He is as confident as Sam, but more aggressive. When he speaks to Taylor, I take the opportunity to study him closely. He is charming, with magnetic eyes, lilting voice, and graceful movements, making Taylor smile, blush, and laugh and, then, laughing softly with him, but there is cunning there, too, as though every move he makes is part of the point-counterpoint of a game, a game he means to win, or so the intensity of his gaze would suggest. When he turns to me, I smile and tilt my head, by all accounts friendly and unsuspicious, but when he tenses slightly, I know he can see the hard glint in my eye.

Taylor isn't even looking directly at me, but, somehow, he perceives the tension I feel. He pulls me away from the group and nudges my nose softly before kissing me gently on the lips. I want to plant a passionate kiss on him to mark him as mine, but I don't want to seem brutish. I've already acted like a fool when it comes to Stephen, not that I can help it. Something about him rubs me the wrong way, and I could tell immediately that he wanted Taylor, with a burning desire. Taylor surprises me by sending his lips crashing onto mine, kissing me deeply, as if to tell everyone there that he is mine. God, I fucking love that. In fact, he kisses me so deeply that Mary, Sam, Dennis, and Stephen start hooting. When we pull apart, Taylor blushes, but I smile proudly.

We all move to sit down, Rafael nudging Gabe on his way to get his attention. While the rest of the introductions were being made, he had pulled a small worn book out of his jacket pocket and started reading. When Rafael nudges him, he looks up, dazed, but, then, thrusts his book back in his pocket and follows us.

Mary serves lasagna. Taylor is adorable, as always when it comes to food, so obviously enjoying it, concentrating on little else at first.

Dan starts the conversation, asking, "So how did you two meet Dennis and Stephen?"

That gets Taylor's attention. He answers, "We're staying at the hotel. We met Stephen when we were checking in and ended up making plans for the four of us to go out that night."

Dan then asks pointedly, "So did you fuck them?"

Mary hits the boy in the head, just like Debbie does with Mikey, but he retorts defensively, "What? Did you see the way Stephen looks at the blond? It's like he'd much rather be eating him for dinner than your lasagna."

Taylor blushes crimson, and Dennis clears his throat uncomfortably, but I interject a little menacingly, a fake smile on my face, "I'm sure he would, but it's never going to happen."

Stephen laughs and says, "I'm surprised you haven't hired a skywriter."

Everyone chuckles at that, well, except Taylor, Dennis, me, and Gabe. Gabe seems always to be a little absent, as though the mundane and the personal are beneath his attention. Of course, he could just be extraordinarily shy.

*************

I walk over to the man and Justin and ask the man, "Is your name (I pause, shuddering) Hubie?"

"No, why?" he replies as he stands up.

I'm unnerved for a split second, but, then, my cool returns. I shake my head and say nonchalantly, "I'm sorry. You look like someone I know."

The man walks to the bathroom quickly, but not before throwing Justin a suggestive look. As if!

I tense up (and my jaw nearly hits the floor) when I see Justin checking the man out. Granted, he's not a troll, but still…As nonchalantly as I can manage, I say, turning my back to him, "If you want to fuck him, be my guest. Don't let me stand in your way."

Things like this used to bother me with Justin, but never inspired murderous rage, well, before now. Taylor and I were always monogamous, and Justin always wanted to be monogamous. Since I discovered that Taylor and Justin were the same person, well, once I had wrapped my brain around it, I assumed it would just be us from here on out. Maybe I was wrong.

Justin peeks around my shoulder and laughs. He turns me around and kisses me gently. Incredulously, he asks, "You don't really think I want to go fuck him in the bathroom, do you?"

I just shrug.

He wrinkles his nose and says, "I was just teasing...you know, payback for Roxanne or Suzanne, whatever Bubbly's name was."

I chuckle. "Bubbly?"

Justin nuzzles my neck and whispers, "Now, you I wouldn't mind fucking in the bathroom. But no one else."

That brings me back. The first time Taylor and I took ecstasy. Actually, it was the first time I had taken it, but Justin had taken it with the older version of me before then…This whole time travel thing is too much for my poor brain. I was so upset that Taylor had thought I might want someone else that I'd let him fuck me in the backroom of C-street. It's still one of my top 5 fucks. My voice husky with desire and something else, nostalgia maybe, I whisper back, "Once we find the judge, you can fuck me anywhere you want."

Justin moves so that he can look at my face, my eyes. He asks hesitantly, "So if I wanted to fly back to Pittsburgh for the night and fuck you in the backroom of Babylon, you'd be all for it?"

My face wearing a serious expression, I reply, "I'd let you fuck me anywhere you wanted." Then, I smile. "But if it were Babylon, we might need to move to a different city after. Too many people keep track of who I fuck, where, and how. Can't exactly work and live in a city where I'm a laughingstock. With my reputation, that's all every fag in Pittsburgh would be talking about…the rise and fall of Brian Kinney."

Justin's eyes lose focus as they widen.

I say, an edge to my voice, "I guess this is an adjustment for you, too. You're used to my older self being a cold control freak who can't love."

That brings Justin back. He replies, "I never thought that about you. I knew you could love, and I believed that you loved me. The control freak part I understand, at least, I think I do. Part of it is your childhood. But the rest…the rest is probably a mixture of things, all involving Taylor. You wanting Taylor to be special…you not wanting to be hurt the way Taylor hurt you when he left…the way I hurt you when I left…not wanting or being able to let anyone else in."

I clear my throat and whisper, "Something like that."

Then Justin smiles and exclaims, "Wait!"

I look up in surprise. "Wait, what?"

He explains, "The younger version of you called me Sunshine. Back then, you knew Debbie, but I didn't! Why did you do that?"

I shake my head. "I don't know." I really don't. "It just seemed to fit you perfectly. You brightened my life during a dark time, I mean, I couldn't remember the last time I was happy before we met, and your smile is pure sunshine..and, I don't know, I guess I wanted to give you a name only I called you."

Justin flashes me one of the aforementioned Sunshine smiles and offers, "But don't you see? That just proves that our meeting and being together then was fated…and that our being together now is fated!

I give him a soft smile.

Suddenly, a deep voice interrupts us, "You said you were looking for a man named Hubie?"

I look over at the source in surprise, nodding.

"My name's Hubie."


	5. Hubie and Billy

I am a little taken aback by the man's appearance. He is a very tall, fit black man with warm brown eyes. He looks a little older than Brian, maybe 36 or 37. I wonder why he would need to pay for sex. Brian, Hubie, and I go to a table in the back and sit down. Still a bit embarrassed by our mix up and a little nervous after seeing ugly brown suit man hit and threaten the sandy-blond-haired hustler, as soon as we are all seated, I ask the man for ID. He looks surprised, but he nods and hands me his driver's license. When I am satisfied that the man in the picture is the man sitting in front of me and see that the name on the license is Hubert Corbett, I smile and hand it back. I offer, "Sorry. I just didn't want to make a second mistake."

He smiles a little and replies, "I understand." Then, he takes a deep breath and asks, "So why did you need to see me?"

Brian and I exchange a glance. Then, Brian asks, "I'll tell you, but, first, could you answer a question for me?"

Hubie nods.

He inquires, all the while sizing the man up, "If you heard your name being spoken five minutes ago, why did it take you so long to approach us?"

Hubie smiles for a moment but then reassumes his serious expression. "I wasn't sure who you were or what you wanted, but, when I saw you kissing, I knew it was probably safe. I assume you know Billy. Are you friends from the Learning Annex?"

I shake my head. "We don't know him, but, this morning, I saw a man threatening him."

Hubie's eyes widen, and he asks quickly, his voice filled with concern, "Is he okay?"

I respond slowly, "Well…the man who threatened him hit him pretty hard in the face, but he seemed okay afterward. The man, who looked like he could be in the mob, mentioned you by name."

Hubie appears both relieved and tense at the same time; he exhales and smiles a little, but his right hand, which had been sitting on the table the whole time, is still clenched.

Brian states evenly, but in a lower voice, "You don't seem too surprised. I take it that you know the mob poses some kind of threat to you."

He admits, "They've been after me for years, alternately threatening me and trying to bribe me. They want me to help them get acquittals for their men and convictions for their enemies. So far, nothing they've attempted has worked. But I didn't realize that they knew about Billy and I. That's going to make resisting much more difficult."

I state, "You love him."

Hubie nods.

Brian, ever the cynic, asks, "Isn't he jailbait?"

Hubie laughs, "No. He looks young, which, I guess is good for his, uh, career, but he's 18."

Curious, I ask, "How did you even meet? I mean, you're from two different worlds."

Hubie shakes his head. "At a gay club. I'm not really into the scene, but even judges have needs, so I would occasionally go out. But everything changed when I met Billy."

I smile and inquire, "How so?"

Hubie smiles a little. "He's so…bold. He knows what he wants, and he pursues it tenaciously."

Brian chuckles and bumps my shoulder. "I know the type."

I flash him a million-watt smile and blush.

Hubie studies Brian and I for a second, smiles, and continues, "He saw me from across the dance floor (shaking his head) isn't that a bad 80s tune? and he just walked straight over and kissed me. I was so surprised that I kissed him back, but then I pulled away. He was beautiful, but he looked so young. He told me that he was 18, but I didn't feel I could risk it. As much as I hated to do it, I brushed him off. I didn't see him for a while after that. I didn't even know his name. Then, I saw him in court."

In response to our shocked expressions, he laughs and continues, "Not for, uh, that. He wasn't even charged. He was just watching. Apparently, he had spent two weeks looking for me."

I exclaim, "That must have been some kiss!"

He nods. "It really was. I hadn't been able to get him out of my head, either. So I was trying to act professional all the while Billy was staring at me…he smiled…tilted his head at me curiously…winked…That was the longest hour of my life. I was so relieved when I was back in my chambers. Then, Billy walked in. He locked the door and walked right up to me (I was sitting on a sofa) and climbed into my lap, straddling me. I kept telling him that we couldn't be doing this, but, undeterred, he grinded against me and placed soft kisses on my face, my neck…After a few minutes (especially after spending two weeks thinking about him), I couldn't help myself. I didn't even take my robe off. My law professors at Yale would probably have had coronaries if they'd seen what I was doing in it, and with whom."

Brian and I can't help but laugh at that.

I ask, "When was that?"

He replies simply, "Six months ago."

I exclaim, "Wow!" Then more carefully, I ask, "When did you find out, you know, that…"

He interjects, "That he's a hustler? Not too long after that day. Maybe two or three weeks. One night, I happened to take my sister to the Greyhound station a few miles south of Boystown. Once she was on the bus, I walked back toward my car, and, to my horror, and Billy's, I caught sight of him in a nearby alley. Some fat white guy had him pinned against a wall. I can't even tell you how I felt. It was agony watching him, but I couldn't look away. He just stared back at me, a tear rolling down his cheek. That probably doesn't sound surprising to you, but, if you knew him…he's fearless…outspoken. He dares you to talk down to him and then gives you a vicious tongue lashing if you do. At the time, I could never have imagined seeing him look so fragile."

Hubie's eyes lose focus for a moment, but, then, he shakes his head and continues, "Part of me was tempted to leave, but I just couldn't. Billy's so…real. He's not ashamed to just be himself. He tells you like it is, so you always know where you stand with him. I knew how rare a quality that was. I certainly never met anyone like that at Yale or in my normal circles in Chicago. After the john departed, Billy walked over to me (I hadn't moved an inch) and asked (no look of accusation in his eyes, not this time), 'So…am I too beneath you to be beneath you anymore?' I couldn't help but smile. Even in that situation, he hadn't lost his sense of humor. I grabbed him and kissed him hard. I knew then that I loved him."

Brian narrows his eyes and asks, "But you pay him?"

Hubie sighs and nods. "His pimp happened to see us and demanded it. Since then, I've paid him every time. I can't take the chance that he would (his voice breaks a little) that he would hurt him. Billy objected and strongly (he smiles and looks down, probably remembering, and then back up) After giving the pimp his cut, he gave it all back to me, taking some of his own money out his pocket to do it, but I wouldn't take it. When he said that I was the only man who'd never paid, I wavered a little (and felt a little nauseous at the implication), but I managed to stand firm. I wasn't about to risk his safety for anything. I also couldn't help but hope that he'd need to work less if we met more often."

At that, I stiffen, remembering that we're here to warn Hubie. I hesitate for a moment, but I know I have to tell him the rest. I say slowly, "Speaking of safety, or lack thereof…that scary-looking man who threatened Billy wants him to get you two on tape together."

Hubie's eyes widen. He exclaims incredulously, "Wait a minute. He works for the mob?"

Brian replies softly, "So it would seem."


	6. All My Hustlers, Take One

**Gabe and Rafael**

In part because I am hoping to change the subject and in part because I am very curious, I ask the amber-eyed boy eagerly, "So were you named after the painter, Rafael?"

He smiles at me and then looks at Gabe with something akin to adoration. The blond, who, until this very moment, had been staring off into space as he mindlessly played with his food, actually smiles a little and meets Rafael's gaze and then blushes shyly and looks down at his plate. I look from one to the other curiously. I never would have guessed that they liked each other. Up until now, the only contact they had was when Rafael nudged Gabe on the way to the dinner table.

Rafael gazes at Gabe for a moment longer and then looks back at me. He says, "Gabe gave me that name. I have no idea why. The day we met, he just started calling me that, and I liked it so much that I kept using it."

My eyes widen. "Really?" I smile and take Brian's hand under the table, threading our fingers together. I exclaim, "That's so sweet!"

Suddenly, without a word or a glance, Gabe stands up and leaves the room.

Watching Gabe leave with a concerned look in his eyes, Rafael excuses himself and follows.

I look at Dennis uneasily. I say, "I hope I didn't upset him with my question."

Dennis is about to respond, but Nevan beats him to it, laughing as he says, "Gabriel is our resident weirdo, and Raf, poor schmuck, is desperately in love with him. Don't ask me why."

Mary reaches across the table to smack him in the head. She snaps, "Don't you dare say anything bad about Gabe. He's perfectly fine, just shy."

Nevan rubs his head and laughs. Then, he puts his hands up as if in surrender when Mary shoots him a warning look. "Okay. Okay. I rescind my comment. Perfectly normal. Just shy."

Dan soon steers the conversation in a new direction, but I still feel terrible. I look over at the staircase, wondering if I should apologize. Brian squeezes my hand, and I turn back toward him. Then, as if he read my mind, he lets my hand go and says, "Don't let it gnaw at you."

I smile at him and excuse myself, claiming that I have to use the restroom. When no one is watching, I climb up the stairs, though nervously, for I feel like an intruder.

At the top of the stairs is a long hallway with a few doors on each side. I am beginning to think this is a bad idea, that I should head back downstairs, and I am about to do just that when I hear voices. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I follow the sounds. I end up standing outside a room at the end of the hall. The door's open a crack. I peek in and see Gabe and Rafael. Gabe is sitting on a bed, and Rafael is kneeling in front of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to draw attention to you. I just think it's sweet."

Gabe replies softly, "I know. I just get embarrassed."

Rafael smiles at him affectionately. "I know. I know you better than anyone."

Gabe smiles as he looks at the floor. "Yeah."

Then, Rafael stands up and walks to the other side of the room. He's still in Gabe's line of sight, or he would be if Gabe weren't looking at the floor. Rafael starts removing his shirt, a black button down that makes a nice contrast with his bronze skin. I always love seeing Brian in black for that very reason. At this point, I know I should leave. But I can't. I'm dying to see how Gabe will respond. I wonder if he even realizes what Rafael is doing. I observe Gabe closely, noting that he begins to fidget. He looks up at Rafael but then quickly lowers his eyes again and blushes.

Rafael chuckles. He is probably watching the blond even more closely than I was, so he undoubtedly saw what I saw. He lets his shirt fall to the floor and then starts unbuttoning and unzipping his very, very faded blue jeans as he slowly walks toward the blond. He stops for a moment, letting his jeans slide off of him (they are a size too big). He's not wearing any underwear. I must say that he's very well endowed. A bit smaller than Brian, but, then, most are. Gabe has been sneaking glances at Rafael, though Rafael was probably aware of each one. Gabe's fidgeting has increased exponentially with each step Rafael has taken. With one hand, he's playing with his longish hair, and, with the other, he's pulling at loose threads on his jeans.

Standing directly in front of Gabe, Rafael asks, in a voice that sounds both amused and desperate, as though he is, in part, pleading rather than simply asking, "Gabe, baby, look at me."

Gabe hesitates for a moment but then slowly lifts his head. He blushes and smiles the moment his eyes reach Rafael's cock. Rafael sits down on the floor, stretches his legs out, and leans back on his arms as he drawls, "Gabe? Do you like seeing me like this?"

Gabe just blushes and nods slowly.

Rafael crawls toward Gabe, spreads the boy's legs apart, and then cups the boy's cock, rubbing it through his jeans. Rafael purrs into the boy's ear, "I can tell that you do."

Then he stands up and pulls Gabe up off the bed. He gently shoves the boy's coat to the floor, pulls off his T-shirt, and unbuttons and unzips his jeans, causing them to pool around Gabe's feet. His jeans are a little too big for him, also. And, he isn't wearing underwear, either. Gabe's cock is actually a little bit bigger than Rafael's. He is most definitely liking what he sees; his cock is hard as a rock and leaking. Every time Rafael touches him, his cock twitches.

Rafael kneels and licks the head of Gabe's penis and then down the underside. Gabe starts trembling, and, when Rafael deepthroats him, he shuts his eyes tight and threads his fingers together. Rafael bobs his head a few times as he sucks on the boy's cock. Suddenly, the boy pushes Rafael away and moves so that he is standing facing the wall. His body is trembling harder, and he wipes his eyes. I'm very surprised, but Rafael isn't. He just sits on the floor, silent and motionless, but wearing a resigned look, as though this is a scenario that's happened many times before. He blinks a few times and takes a deep breath. Then, he stands up and smiles. He approaches Gabe slowly. Gabe cries softly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Rafael kisses his cheek and states encouragingly, "It's okay. Hey, you let me suck your cock a little longer this time."

Rafael places his hands gently on Gabe's shoulders. Gabe shakes his head and moans, "No. I'm a freak. You deserve better."

Rafael smiles more brightly and counters, "But I want you, just you. I love you."

Gabe turns to look at Rafael and whispers, "I love you, too. So much." He flinches and shuts his eyes tight, as though feeling physical pain. Then he drops to his knees and deepthroats Rafael. Rafael's eyes shoot open and he moans loudly. Gabe begins sucking Rafael's cock faster, grabbing onto his hips to balance himself, and Rafael cries out, "Fuck, Gabe! Fucking Christ!" He moans one more time but then pushes Gabe away, though gently. He gets down on his knees and strokes Gabe's cheeks.

Gabe whispers, his eyes filled with pain and confusion, "Weren't you enjoying it?"

Rafael laughs. "Of course, I was. Your mouth is like heaven, but just once (his voice breaks) I would like to give you that kind of pleasure."

Gabe sighs and looks down. "I'm sorry. I know I'm a freak."

Rafael blinks back tears. "You're not a freak. I can wait. I can wait forever if I have to."

Now, I'm the one blinking back tears.

Then more softly, Rafael asks, "Can I…can I kiss you?"

Gabe looks up at Rafael warily, but, then, he clenches his fists and nods. Rafael leans in, kisses the boy's lips gently, and pushes his tongue inside. Gabe whimpers a little but doesn't pull away. Rafael takes Gabe's cheeks in his hands and pulls him closer, deepening their kiss and moaning softly. Gabe slides his arms around Rafael's neck slowly and starts to kiss him back. Gabe might have mixed feelings emotionally speaking, but not physically. His cock is now purple and twitching. After a couple of minutes, Rafael pulls back and looks into Gabe's gray eyes, which are now not only glazed over with desire but also a bit hazy, as though he's not quite present.

Rafael asks nervously, "Did that feel good?"

When the question sinks in, Gabe blushes and nods.

Rafael, still nervous, inquires, "You weren't scared or uncomfortable?"

Gabe smiles and shakes his head.

Rafael smiles more brightly than I have yet seen him and takes Gabe into his arms, holding him tight. Gabe holds onto Rafael and buries his face in his neck. Gabe whispers, "Fuck me, Raf. Hard, no lube. I need to feel you inside me, really feel you."

I retrace my steps as quickly and quietly as I can. I don't want to intrude any more than I have already, and I am not sure I can handle watching anymore.

I climb down the stairs and re-enter the dining room. Everyone's chatting away, well, except Brian. I know it's unfair, but I wonder how they can be so happy and oblivious. Brian looks up the second I walk in. He must sense that I'm upset because he gets up and walks over to me. I just pull him out of the dining room, leading him outside.

He asks, "What's wrong, Sunshine?"

Rather than answer, I grab him and kiss him passionately. A few minutes later, I pull away. Once the shock wears off and Brian catches his breath, he asks, laughter in his voice, "What was that about?"

I smile and shake my head, blinking back tears. "We're just so lucky. So lucky."

**Sam, Dan, and Nevan **

Taylor and I are about to go back into the restaurant when we hear a noise on the left side of the building. Without even thinking, we both head in the direction of the noise. I see the source before Taylor does and step back, pulling him back with me. We peek around the corner of the building but remain out of sight.

Sam had stomped out the side door and slammed it (that was the noise we'd heard). Now, he stands on the sidewalk, looking away from us at the crowds of people walking by on Halsted.

A moment later, Dan emerges from the restaurant. He approaches Sam slowly, nervously. He asks softly, "Sam, are you okay?" and gently touches Sam's back. Sam wheels around, a look of pure rage on his face, and snarls, "No! I'm not fucking okay. What the fuck is it to you?"

Dan looks at the ground and bites his lower lip. Then, he replies, "I was just worried…I thought maybe I could…could…"

Sam snaps, "Could what? What could you possibly do for me?"

Dan clenches and unclenches his fists nervously. He shakes his head. "I don't know (He flinches a little when Sam unexpectedly steps closer; Dan stammers) Co…comfort you…"

Sam raises an eyebrow and scoffs, "Comfort me? I have no feelings to hurt. What I need is my cock sucked. If you're game, you'll do."

Sam moves to stand with his back against the wall and leers at Dan.

Dan asks, "Right here?"

Sam moves to leave. Indifferently, he says, "Suit yourself."

Dan calls out, "Wait. Okay."

Sam moves back to where he was standing before, and Dan kneels in front of him.

Suddenly, Nevan comes out. He announces, "Mary's serving dessert." When he sees what Dan and Sam are doing, his eyes widen, and he appears shaken. A moment later, his cool returns. "Sam are you going back in or not? Mary'll have your ass if you don't."

Sam frowns and agrees, "You're right."

Without a word or a glance for Dan, he goes back in.

As soon as the door shuts, Nevan snaps, "What the hell, Dan? You know he doesn't give a fuck about you. Why do you keep setting yourself up to be hurt?"

Dan doesn't move or speak. He lets his head fall.

Nevan walks over to Dan. He hisses, "Get up."

Dan remains motionless.

Nevan, his voice breaking a little, repeats, "Get up!"

Sighing, he reaches for Dan, pulls him to his feet, turns him around, and lifts his chin up until their eyes meet. He states more evenly, "Dan, Sam will never, NEVER, love you. Stop humiliating yourself and move the fuck on!"

Dan's eyes are damp. He replies softly, "But…"

Nevan looks down for a moment, probably trying to maintain something of his composure. Then, he looks back up and declares, "No. He will never return your feelings. You want to be a convenient fuck for him? You want to be his whore? That's all you can ever be to him."

Nevan sighs and continues, a little more softly, "Dan…you're smarter than this. Always so practical…so realistic about everyone and everything else…Why are you so dense when it comes to him? Fuck! (Then almost gently) Don't cry. (He sighs but then smiles) You'd better get in there before the hot one eats all the pie. (He chuckles) With the way he eats, I don't know how he stays so thin."

I smirk at Taylor and start poking his belly. He just glares at me and crosses his arms with a huff.

Dan nods, wipes his eyes, and goes back in.

Nevan stays motionless for a couple of minutes, staring off into space. He sniffs and blinks a few times (had he been crying??) and then follows.

Taylor and I exchange glances. He asks, "What was that about?"

I shrug. I pull him into my arms and kiss his lips gently. "I don't know, Sunshine. I don't know."

Taylor slips his hands over my ass and squeezes my ass cheeks gently as he licks and sucks on my neck. I pull away so that I can see him. His face is flushed, and his eyes are glazed over with lust. I moan softly when he rubs his cock against mine.

I ask, my voice a little husky with desire, "What brought this on, Sunshine?"

He looks down and then back up at me, a naughty glint in his eyes, as he states simply, "My being evil."

I raise an eyebrow.

He explains, "I thought about what Nevan was asking Dan, you know, 'you want to be his whore?' and I realized that I very much want to be your whore…"

My breath hitches in my throat. I push him up against the building and kiss him passionately. Then, I squat and quickly unbutton and unzip his pants. As I'm pulling them down, Taylor complains, "Brian…"

I flash him a tongue-in-cheek expression, say, "I'll be your whore now. You can be mine later," and deepthroat him. A ripple of pleasure passes through me when I hear him moan my name.


	7. Tracking Down Billy

Hubie looks thoughtful for a moment, his eyes, sadness evident within them, losing focus, but, then, he shakes his head. He declares, though a little uncertainly, "Even if he does work for the mob, that doesn't mean anything. The man had to hit him and make a frightening threat before he begrudgingly agreed to do what the man asked, right?"

Justin nods. He asserts, "If you'd seen the look on his face or (Justin's voice drops low) the tears, I don't think you'd be at all suspicious. Even if he knew who you were when you met, it's obvious that you matter to him."

Hubie looks down and rubs his eyes. Then, he offers quietly, "You must think I'm a shit for even wondering. For being uncertain. (Hubie sighs despondently) Billy deserves better."

Justin shakes his head and laughs. He interrupts Hubie's spiral into self-loathing, "Most would have left the bus station after seeing what you saw all those months ago, or they would at least have quarreled with him. So there is a limit to your understanding…big deal."

Suddenly, Hubie's eyes widen. He exclaims, "How the hell am I going to protect Billy from them? (He sighs in resignation) Maybe I should just give them what they want. At least, I'd have some bargaining power then. Maybe I could get Billy away from them completely."

Justin purses his lips. He responds, "Would Billy want to be responsible for that? Sounds to me like he's been trying to protect you from that part of his life."

I state, "We came here not only to warn you but also to find out how to locate Billy, so we can help him, maybe find him somewhere to hide."

Shocked, Hubie exclaims, "You'd do that? But you don't even know us…"

I smile and squeeze Justin's hand, which is lying on the table. I reply, "We're just suckers for romance, I guess, though I'm a new recruit."

Justin flashes me a million-watt smile and kisses my cheek. I can't help but smile back.

Hubie gives us all the information we need and his number, and we promise to call as soon as Billy's safe. Hubie nods, but, then, at the last minute, he comes running up. He explains, "This may not be the smartest idea, but I…I can't stay by the phone waiting. I need to come with you. I might be able to help.

I shrug, and Justin smiles. We all exit the restaurant and head for the rental car.

*******

Brian, Hubie, and I spent hours searching for Billy. Hubie directed Brian to all of Billy's haunts: the bus station and several alleys (where he waited for johns, both prospects and regulars), the abandoned building he called home (apparently, Billy had refused all offers of help Hubie had made, even the offer to move in with Hubie), the food cart Billy frequented at mealtimes, the shelter he stayed in during inclement weather, and, strangely, the Learning Annex (where, we learned, Billy was taking a GED course and attending a creative writing workshop). Brian had to bite back a laugh when Hubie first mentioned Billy's educational pursuits. Thank goodness Hubie didn't notice. He took all things related to Billy very seriously. Unfortunately, we had no luck. No one had even seen him today.

Now we are trying Hubie's apartment. Hubie doesn't believe Billy will be here, but thinks he might call. Brian and I follow Hubie inside. Lo and behold, Billy's lying on the couch napping, in all his glory (and glory it is, for he has a cock the size of Brian's and a nicely rounded ass, though not as nice as mine). I know this because Billy is lying on his side. He must have taken a shower because he looks cleaner than he did when I saw him this morning. I suppress the urge to exclaim, "Awww" when I see that he is snuggling Hubie's pillow.

Billy wakes up at the sound of our entrance, sitting up and stretching languidly, like a cat that had been napping in the sun. When Billy looks at us (probably wondering who the hell we are), Brian just nods his way and says, "Nice cock."

I smile brightly (that's Brian for you), but Brian's comment doesn't faze Billy in the slightest. He smirks and replies, "Thanks."

When Hubie catches sight of Billy, he rushes to his side and embraces him. For all his toughness, Billy holds Hubie just as tightly and nuzzles his neck. Hubie exclaims, "Baby, I was so worried about you! We've been everywhere trying to find you!"

Billy pulls back and looks at Hubie in surprise.

Hubie nods. "I heard about what happened at the hotel this morning."

Billy's eyes widen. Incredulously, he asks, "How?"

Hubie gestures to us. "Justin, the blond, and his boyfriend, Brian, are staying there. Justin happened to see you with that thug. He heard everything. Actually, they came to warn me that you and I are both in danger."

Billy swallows hard. Then, he inquires cautiously, "They told you everything?"

Hubie nods.

Billy jumps up and turns away from Hubie, clenching his fists and shutting his eyes tightly. A moment later, more composed, he spins around, an impassive expression on his face. He's good.

Billy asks simply, his voice even, "Where do we stand?"

Hubie tilts his head and gives Billy a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Billy holds Hubie's gaze, and his posture suggests confidence, but his eyes tell a different story. They contain fear and sadness. Apparently, Billy is resigned to the fact that Hubie thinks the worst of him after hearing about the altercation this morning. He expects Hubie to accuse him, to tell him to fuck off.

Billy replies slowly, "I know what you must think of me…finding out that I work for the mob and that I agreed to lure you to the hotel, giving them something to hold over your head."

I smile. Billy's in for a pleasant surprise. And he is surprised, floored really, when Hubie takes him into his arms. Fearing some deception, he just stands there woodenly, his eyes wide but glazed over, as he tries to understand Hubie's reaction.

Hubie, realizing that Billy isn't responding to his touch, pulls away, thrusting his hands into his pockets and looking at the floor. I'm about to say something, to try to help Billy understand, when Brian, oddly enough, speaks.

He deadpans, "Don't be a twat. You're seeing a problem where there is none."

Billy pivots, so he can see all three of us, squares his shoulders, and arches an eyebrow, eying Brian suspiciously.

Brian looks at Billy through expressionless eyes and continues, "Did Hubie find it suspicious that you just happen to work for the people who have been relentlessly trying to put him in their pocket, be it through attempted bribery or blackmail? Initially, yes. He's no fool. But after Justin provided more details about your encounter, Hubie realized that you were being coerced."

Billy continues to eye Brian suspiciously, though less so, but when Brian smiles a fake smile and asks in a mock sensitive tone, "There. All better now?" as he pats Billy on the back, Billy laughs. Loudly.

He asks, "You know you're an asshole, right?"

Brian smirks. "Are you kidding? That's my specialty."

Then Billy turns to Hubie and smiles.

*************

As Hubie, Billy, Brian, and I pile into the rental car, I laugh and ask, "Now aren't you glad you didn't get a corvette?"

Brian grumbles, "I suppose…"

In a voice tinged with longing, he adds, "Still…I would have liked to fuck you on the Z06's sleek, still warm hood after the adrenaline rush of charging down the highway at 175 miles per hour…shit, it purrs so softly that we could have left it running, felt the hum of the engine's 385 hp V8 engine spinning at 6000 revolutions per minute as I rammed my cock into your tight little ass."

Brian sighs.

I wonder if his cock is as hard as he made mine with that sad, yet strangely arousing reflection. I look over at Brian, our eyes meeting for a moment before I let my gaze fall. I slide my hand up his thigh and smile as I lightly trace his very obvious erection with a finger.

Brian quickly snatches my hand away, holding it firmly, and, in a low growl, warns, "Don't start what you can't finish, Sunshine." Then he smiles, but there's an intoxicating ferocity in it.

I press my lips together and then bite my lip. I tease, "You started this game, Brian. I'm just finishing it."

Brian's eyes widen, and he nods his head slowly. Suddenly, he grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me into an almost violent kiss, biting, not nibbling, my lips, driving his tongue into my mouth, probing every inch with a near frightening urgency, not simply taking my breath away, but knocking the wind out of me. Deliciously lightheaded, I melt into him.

Brian seizes the opportunity, wrapping his strong arms around my back and waist and placing me in his lap. He moves me so that I am straddling him and then slides one hand up to the back of my neck and the other down to my ass, deepening our kiss to an extent I didn't think possible, pulling my head and my ass closer while also grinding his hard cock against mine.

When he circles my waist with both arms and sends his hands up my back, drawing me impossibly nearer, I moan low in my throat. I am so close to the edge. I am struck by the very real possibility that I might cum right here in Brian's lap, fully clothed. But I don't care. I wouldn't care if my mother, my father, Deb, and every student who ever attended St. James Academy were here. I want so badly to extend and intensify this feeling, this feeling of being completely immersed in warmth, Brian's warmth, Brian, wave upon wave of heat and pulse upon pulse of electricity washing over me and surging through me, emanating, radiating from every cell in my body, culminating in a climax of unfathomable proportions…

(Sound of a turntable's tonearm being ruthlessly dragged across a record and then nothing. Silence.)

Hubie clears his throat loudly. Brian and I both look up in surprise.

Hubie grins. "Sorry to interrupt, but the light's green."

We look behind us, Brian with the rearview mirror, me through the rear windshield, our eyes widening when we see the long line of traffic and hear, for the first time, the cacophony of angry shouts and frantic honking. I climb back into the passenger seat, and Brian presses on the accelerator.

A couple minutes later, Brian clears his throat and says coolly, "I guess that wasn't the gear shifter."

After a moment of dead silence, I blushing bright red and Brian smirking, Billy and Hubie burst out laughing.


	8. Trippin

After we'd all eaten a slice of pie (well, Taylor'd had two already), Mary walks into the kitchen to make coffee, Dennis and Stephen in tow (for company). The entire time we were eating pie, Rafael had alternately been looking at Taylor and I and then back down at his lap, his right hand absently playing with a butter knife lying on the table. Once they'd left the room, Rafael asks (he directs his question to me, but probably only because Taylor currently has a mouthful of pie), "So…Brian, you and Taylor are leaving tomorrow, right?"

I nod. "Yup."

"Where to?"

At this point, Taylor has finished his pie. He pipes up, "We're heading toward Mexico, seeing how close we can get. We can go through St. Louis, Little Rock, Dallas, and San Antonio or Memphis, New Orleans, and Houston. Or we can take the more roundabout route, that is, Kansas City, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Los Angeles, and Tucson."

I watch Rafael closely, waiting for him to speak again. I'm absolutely sure that he will. He's clearly bothered by something and seriously pondering the choices Taylor laid out.

All this time, Gabe had been sitting at the table silently, looking down at the floor. I hadn't even realized he'd been listening, but he must have been because he looks up suddenly and inquires, his voice a near whisper, "Why are you asking about their trip, Raf?"

Rafael looks at Gabe and smiles softly. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he inquires, "Can Gabe and I come with you? We won't be any trouble. We have some money saved up."

Gabe's eyes widen in surprise.

Taylor looks at me, asking me with his eyes whether I mind. Of course, I do. I hate the idea of sharing Taylor with anyone, especially since we have a limited amount of time remaining. But his face holds such a hopeful expression, and I can't deny him anything. I suppose having Gabe and Rafael along wouldn't be too terrible. Rafael is friendly, and Gabe, quiet. Plus, I know that neither of them will make a play for Taylor.

I shrug. Taylor kisses my cheek and informs Rafael enthusiastically, "Sure. That'd be great!"

I can't help but smile. He's naturally so open and giving, so trusting, and he welcomes new experiences. I hope that never changes.

Gabe looks at Rafael in alarm, but Rafael calms him with a gentle caress.

Sam appears to be upset by this development, although I'm not sure why. Is he in love with Rafael? Or Gabe?

Unexpectedly (well, I saw it coming), Sam inquires, endeavoring to appear nonchalant, though he probably only fools Rafael and Gabe, "You plan to move to Mexico?"

Rafael laughs. "No, of course not."

Sam relaxes visibly. "Then what?"

Rafael replies, "I thought that Gabe and I could take a little vacation. Dennis and Stephen told me that Taylor and Brian got here by hopping into a boxcar while the train was moving and that they plan to continue traveling that way. I thought it might be fun." Rafael's tone is light, and he smiles at Gabe (actually eliciting a soft smile in return), but I can sense an urgency there, skillfully veiled fear. I'd guess that Gabe is in some kind of danger, maybe from a crazy john.

Sam looks down at the table, his jaw clenched. I'd guess that he wants to ask more questions, but won't because that would make his 'feelings' known to all.

Dan, who had been observing Sam closely since he first spoke, asks Rafael, "How long will you be gone?" Dan smiles when he sees Sam relax a bit. Nevan, who had been watching both Dan and Sam, sighs heavily in response. Everyone (well, everyone but Dan, Taylor, and I) looks at him in surprise, but no one asks for an explanation.

Rafael shakes his head, presumably at Nevan, and then remembers that Dan had asked him a question. He looks at Gabe hopefully and then replies, "I was thinking maybe two weeks."

Dan cautions, "You and Gabe shouldn't go traipsing across the country alone. I mean, who knows what Taylor and Brian's plans are. They may not have two weeks."

Sam smiles and seizes the opportunity Dan presented him. He agrees cheerfully, "Yeah. Maybe we should all go." But then in a more offhand way, he adds, "It would be safer."

Dan smiles brightly. "Yeah. That'd be a lot of fun!"

Nevan twirls his finger in the air and responds sarcastically, "Woo hoo."

Everybody bursts out laughing in response. I couldn't help but chuckle. I'm about as excited as Nevan at the prospect of bringing all the hustlers with us.

Rafael looks at the other hustlers in turn and then at Taylor and I. He states enthusiastically, "It's decided then. We'll all go."

I stifle a groan, but Taylor somehow knows exactly how unenthusiastic I am. He whispers in my ear, "We'll have plenty of time alone together. I promise." Then he purrs, "And…that will include lots and lots of fucking."

In response, I whisper, growl is more like it, "It'd better, Sunshine. If they take up too much of our alone time, I'll gag you, toss you over my shoulder, and sneak off with you in the middle of the night, leaving them wherever we happen to be."

Taylor just giggles. He must like the idea of my kidnapping him (maybe just the bound and gagged part). My cock definitely likes that image (and especially Taylor's response to it).

We hadn't noticed, but Mary, Dennis, and Stephen had returned with the coffee. However, we can't help but notice their presence when Mary exclaims, "You're going where?"

We all stare. No one says a word.

Once Mary recovers from the shock of the hustlers' announcement, she turns back around, returning to the kitchen. We all follow her in. She starts pulling pans from the drawer below the oven. We just stare. Finally, when she starts taking mixing bowls out of an overhead cupboard, Rafael inquires softly, "Mary? What are you doing?"

She shakes her head and replies, "You boys will need food to take with you. I can make blueberry muffins, banana-nut bread…"

Rafael steps closer. Even more softly, he states, "We'll only be gone a couple of weeks…"

Mary turns around, tears in her eyes, and grabs Rafael, hugging him. "I know. I'm just going to miss you boys so much…"

Gabe, Dan, Sam, and even Nevan join Rafael in hugging her.

After a couple minutes, she moves back. "Now you get out of here. Go to the bar or something. I have a lot of baking to do."

Taylor shoots Mary one last sympathetic look and then turns to leave, pulling me with him. We are soon joined by Stephen, Dennis, and the hustlers.

Dennis pauses in front of the table, looks at Stephen, and then asks everyone, "So…shall we?"

Taylor looks up at me and smiles. "You wanna go?"

I shrug and smile a little.

Apparently, the hustlers are game, too, because they all head for the door separating Mary's from the bar, although Rafael appears increasingly uncomfortable as he and Gabe draw nearer.

Suddenly Nevan stops and declares, "Fuck the bar."

He smiles mischievously, his eyes dancing. "I have some great acid. Why don't we drop and go to the park?"

Rafael smiles brightly, squeezes Gabe's hand (he seems a little nervous about the prospect), which he's been holding since we left the kitchen, and replies, "Yes, let's!"

Dennis turns to Stephen (who shrugs) and then actually giggles and rubs his hands together. "It's been so long…"

Taylor looks at Nevan uneasily and then leans back into me (without even thinking, I wrap my arms around him).

He pronounces slowly, "I don't know. I've heard bad things about acid."

Nevan laughs. "Are either of you schizophrenic or clinically depressed?"

Taylor giggles in response. "No."

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

Rafael smiles at Taylor warmly. "I won't lie to you. You'll probably both act weird, so will we, and you might have hallucinations, but they are rare and generally mild. Acid is lots of fun. It causes this incredible euphoria, which I've always likened to every cell in your body orgasming. Your body feels incredible, and more so when someone else touches you. Acid also makes you hyperaware of everything. Little things you normally take for granted, like telephones, will seem wondrous, and experiencing anything, everything, will bring you great pleasure."

Taylor looks up at me. He's much more relaxed, but still unsure. I lean closer and nudge his nose with mine and then whisper in his ear, "I bet it makes sex even more amazing."

Taylor smiles brightly at that.

"…and you know you're always safe with me, don't you? Even if I have to be someone's punching bag, I won't let anyone or anything hurt you."

Taylor whispers back, "My hero…"

I can't help but chuckle.

Then he turns back to Nevan and Rafael and says excitedly, "Okay. Let's do it!"

**Forty-five minutes later…**

Brian and I are at the park with Stephen, Dennis, Rafael, Gabe, Dan, Sam, and Nevan. We're all sitting on the grass. The acid has just kicked in. I can't stop smiling, and my body feels like an infinitely large field of small undulating waves of warmth and pleasure is moving through me. I think Brian must be feeling the effects, too, because a minute or two after I notice a difference, he wraps his arms more tightly around me (I am sitting between his legs, leaning against him). Every once in a while, I feel a delicious shiver pass through me, from head to toe, well, actually, from toe to head.

If I'd thought the flowers were fragrant the night before, they are doubly so now. I am sniffing the air, trying to identify them all.

Suddenly I realize that Brian is staring at me.

When our eyes meet, amused, he inquires, "What exactly are you doing, Sunshine?"

I giggle. "Stopping to smell the roses…and the violets…and…and the orchids, which smell so nice…I think they're my favorite…and something…something else…"

I sniff the air again, but I can't place the mystery scent. I jump up and start walking. Brian's goofy giggle heralds his warm embrace. Soon his arms are around me again, which is good because, for a moment, I forgot that he's not part of me. I expected him to still be behind me, holding me, when I stood up.

He turns me around to face him, giggles again, and then asks (between more giggles), "Where are you off to?"

I answer matter-of-factly, "To find the source of the mystery scent."

That sends Brian (and everyone else, who I'd forgotten were with us) into another fit of giggles, through which he barely manages to get out, "Like a beagle?"

I quirk an eyebrow.

He tilts his head adorably. "What? They're cute, sweet, and intelligent…just like you."

The peanut gallery awws (well, not Gabe).

I sigh, place my hands on my hips, and then state firmly, "No. I'm going to walk around until I see it. The scent is so strong (suddenly distracted, I start looking around)…it shouldn't be too far away…"

But now I'm no longer confident. I turn back to Brian and ask for confirmation. "Right?"

Brian looks off to the side thoughtfully, but then nods his head slowly. "Yes. I agree. It's a good, solid plan."

The peanut gallery is literally rolling with laughter, (well, not Gabe, but he is smiling).

Rafael stands and pulls Gabe to his feet. He suggests, "Why don't we all walk to the pond? It's pretty by moonlight, and I never see anyone but Gabe and I there at night."

Brian quirks an eyebrow, and I smile and nod excitedly. Sounds so romantic. Romantic. Without even thinking, I lean in and place a chaste kiss on Brian's lips. But when I feel his soft lips against mine, the undulating waves passing through me intensify and in one part of my body especially. I kiss him again, this time, our lips mingling, and then I nibble on his lower lip. Brian growls low in his throat and catches my lips with his own, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and pulling my body hard against his. As he devours my mouth, I slide my arms around his neck and hold him tight, cling to him really, kissing him back with such a desperate hunger that I feel like it might consume me. He grabs my ass and grinds against me.

Suddenly Rafael asks, laughter in his voice, "You two coming?"

That gives everyone else (even Gabe) a chuckle.

Brian smiles. I blush and reply, "Uh, yeah."

I move to follow them, but Brian says, "Uh uhn" and shakes his head.

He picks me up. I giggle and wrap my arms and legs around him, but the desire in Brian's eyes soon quiets me. I just kind of stare at him, falling into the depths of his hazel eyes. Then Brian kisses me, just as deeply as before, but slower. So much slower. As though he is savoring me. Nothing exists but his lips, his eyes, his flushed skin, his soft chestnut hair, and his strong arms. No kiss has ever felt so intense. Time seems to stop, so I am surprised when we are suddenly at the pond. It felt like mere seconds had passed, but the others tell me the walk took fifteen minutes.

Then it hits me. I call out excitedly, "Evening primrose!"

Everyone looks at me in confusion.

I explain, "The mystery scent. It's evening primrose. They bloom at night. That must be why the scent is so strong."

Brian chuckles. "Sunshine, you are truly unique."

"Is that why you love me?"

Brian replies simply, "Yes."

*************

Once we arrive at the pond, Stephen drags a giggling Dennis into the darkness, presumably to fuck. Taylor and I sit on the grass and watch everyone else. Rafael and Gabe walk twenty or thirty feet away from the group holding hands. Rafael stops at a large oak tree, leans back against it, and pulls Gabe to him, sliding his arms around his shoulders and nudging Gabe's nose with his. Gabe blushes and smiles shyly. Rafael laughs softly and lifts Gabe's chin with a finger until their eyes meet. Sam had been watching them, seething with jealousy. Dan had likewise been observing Sam, but now turns away. He moves to sit on the bank and stares into the glimmering water.

Taylor says excitedly, "This is as good as TV."

He's so captivated that I can't help but smile.

I hadn't even noticed, but Nevan must have been watching Dan because as soon as he sits down, Nevan approaches from behind us. He plunks down beside Dan, picks up a few flat stones, and starts skipping them across the water. Dan raises his head and watches in wonder.

He asks, "How do you get them to go so far?"

I expect Nevan to respond with some smart ass remark, but, instead, he demonstrates how to hold the rock and how to throw it. Then he gives Dan a rock and places his hand on Dan's, guiding him. Dan lets out a victory cry ("Woo-hoo!") when his rock goes almost as far as one of Nevan's. Taylor and I exchange an astonished glance when Nevan smiles. Genuinely. Dan's yell draws everyone's attention (well, except Stephen and Dennis. I can hear them grunting and moaning softly somewhere behind us in the darkness).

Sam is particularly interested. He approaches Nevan and Dan. Nevan sees him coming and rolls his eyes. When Sam is about two feet away, Nevan suddenly lunges at Sam, landing both of them in the water with a huge splash. Sam stands up, drenched to the bone and enraged. I can't stifle a giggle. Someone needed to take him down a few pegs.

He bellows, "You dick! What the hell did you do that for?"

Nevan smiles and shrugs. Then he winks at Dan, which sends Dan into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. (Taylor is giggling, too.)

Sam asks (his voice a mixture of anger and amusement), "You think this is funny? Do you?"

Dan is too choked with laughter to answer, but he nods. Sam runs at him and pulls him into the water by his feet.

Dan yowls, "Fuck, that's cold!"

When Nevan splashes Dan, Dan laughs and starts splashing back.

Taylor jumps up and starts stripping off his clothes. He suggests eagerly, "We should go swimming, too!"

I chuckle. But then I stand and start undressing. When we are naked, Taylor grabs my hand and takes off running toward the water. Pretty soon, all of us are in the water, splashing and dunking one another. When Stephen and Dennis return, they join us.

After a while, Taylor starts shivering, so I pick him up and carry him out of the water.

Taylor cries, "Why are we coming out? The water felt so good against my skin. Didn't you like it?"

"You probably couldn't feel the cold, but you were shivering."

"Oh." He wrinkles his nose cutely.

Once we reach our clothes, we put them back on fast. Then I take Taylor in my arms and start rubbing him with my hands to warm him up. Taylor giggles and then sighs contentedly. He moans softly, "That feels incredible…"

I kiss his lips gently and resume my rubbing.

Meanwhile, Nevan and Dan are struggling in the water, both trying to dunk the other, but I don't think Nevan's really trying. Dan slips at one point, falling so that he and Nevan are face to face. They are both laughing one minute and staring into each other's eyes the next.

Taylor whispers into my ear, "Ooo…they are _so_ gonna kiss."

I chuckle. It certainly looks that way, but just as Nevan leans in, Sam tosses a large rock into the water next to them, making a huge splash. Just enough of a distraction to ruin the moment. Then Sam climbs out of the pond and lies down on the grass, his arms folded beneath his head. Dan watches him exit the water, staring at him as though hypnotized. Nevan observes Dan with a mixture of anger, resignation, and disgust. After a couple of moments, he exits the water and sits down next to us.

The acid must be making Nevan uncharacteristically unguarded because the moment he sits down, he exclaims, "Dan is a fool! But then…so am I."

Taylor observes Nevan sadly. He states softly, "You're not a fool."

Nevan looks at Taylor as though he's lost his mind. He snaps, "Did you miss the floorshow?"

"Unfortunately, no, but if you care about Dan, if you want him, really want him, you should pursue him all the same."

"You're kidding, right?"

Taylor shakes his head.

Nevan just looks at Taylor incredulously.

Taylor smiles.

Finally, I weigh in. "Sunshine, I hate to disagree with you, but I think Nevan's right. Dan clearly wants Sam. Nevan would be a fool to keep pursuing Dan. He's a lost cause."

Taylor shakes his head. "Not necessarily. Even if a person seems dedicated to a certain person or a certain way of life, that doesn't mean it's permanent or even real. Sometimes the best loves are hard won." He nods as if to say, "And that's that." He's so fucking cute right now that I just want to eat him up.

I quirk an eyebrow and inquire apprehensively, "So…if I looked at someone else the way Dan looks at Sam, you'd pursue me?"

I assume that he'll need to think about his answer. Just the idea of Taylor looking at someone else the way Dan looks at Sam turns my stomach…makes me so angry that I feel like punching something, or someone. But Taylor fixes me with an almost frighteningly determined look and declares firmly, "I'd pursue you as long as it took. I'd even stalk you if I had to. I'd make you see that my feelings were genuine and unwavering, and you'd be so touched that you would begin to take me seriously, really see me, and realize that we were meant to be together."

I am shocked to say the least. I ask softly, "You'd open yourself up to who knows how much rejection and humiliation…for me?"

Taylor smiles and answers brightly, "Without hesitation."

Nevan seems as taken aback by this response as I am. He looks out over the water, a contemplative expression on his face. I am…I don't even have a word for what I am feeling. I grab Taylor, look deep into his eyes for a moment, and then kiss him passionately, hoping that somehow Taylor can understand just how much he means to me, how touched I am by what he said.

In a husky voice, I whisper, "Let's go back to the room. When we peak, I want to be deep inside you."

For a second, Taylor looks like he's having trouble breathing. I can't help but chuckle. When he is capable of speech, he replies, "I can't tell you how much I want that…"

I inform Nevan, "We're going back to the hotel. You and the rest of the bunch just come by after you wake up tomorrow."

He nods, though absentmindedly, and I lead Taylor away.

*************

The walk back to the hotel was a little scary and probably seemed twice as long as it actually was. So many strange-looking drunk (or otherwise fucked up) people were out and about, and they all seemed to be staring (or leering) at us. But at the worst moments, Brian would squeeze my hand, and suddenly, I wasn't scared anymore. Of course, when we finally make it back to the room, I shut the door quickly and lock it, throwing my back against it and trying to catch my breath.

Brian just chuckles.

"Glad to be back?"

I laugh. Then I cry, "Are you kidding? I'm fucking thrilled to finally have a locked door between you and me and those freakshows on the street!"

Brian pulls me into his arms and whispers in my ear, "You're so fucking cute when you're tripping!"

I pull back so that I can see his eyes. "You think so?"

He nods. His hazel eyes are dancing.

Then in a husky voice, he says, "I've been dying to get back here, too, but not for the same reason."

I ask playfully, "No? Why then? Were you dying to enjoy the free cable?"

He swings me around and backs me up to the bed.

"No…Dying to kiss every inch of your beautiful body, suck your cock, fuck you…ride you. I want…everything. All of you."

My breathing is ragged now. "Oh Brian, I want that, too…"

Brian rubs my erection through my pants. He tilts his head and smiles. "I can tell."

He leans in, nudges my nose with his, and then kisses me, deep but slow at first and then with more urgency. I slide my arms around his neck and kiss him back almost desperately. Meanwhile, he unzips and unbuttons my pants and pushes them down. We separate so he can pull my shirt off. Then he says, "Lie down" and strips off his own clothes in record time.

He joins me on the bed, first just holding me in his arms and rubbing our bodies together. The feeling of his skin on mine is incredible. So warm. Like melting.

Then Brian starts laying open-mouthed kisses down my neck and chest, stopping to trace my nipples with his tongue and to suck and nibble on them before continuing downward, laying kisses on my belly and then suddenly engulfing my cock with his mouth, taking it all in one go. I moan loudly and arch my back in response, sending the tip of my cock into his throat. He swallows around it, eliciting yet another moan, this time a deep body moan.

My eyes are open, but I can't see anything, just patches of color changing shape. Melting into others. I feel warmth and a delicious burning that begins in my pelvic region and rolls outward, through me. Almost tickling me, tickling me to orgasm. Then I'm cumming and moaning Brian's name over and over.

The patches of color continue to change shape and move into and away from others. But then I see a bright light, so warm; it's Brian. He emerges from the patches of color. His face in perfect relief. Smiling at me. I sort of float upward toward him, catching his lips with mine and then thrusting my tongue into his mouth. He kisses me back passionately.

Suddenly, I'm sitting on top of him, sliding a condom on his erection and opening myself up. A moment or two later, I impale myself and start riding him. I feel his huge cock inside me, and my body thrums with the pleasure of it rubbing against my prostate…I can hear it, too, the thrumming.

Next thing I know, Brian is on his knees pounding my ass, fucking me harder and harder, moaning and grunting, all the while looking into my eyes. I'm overwhelmed by the expression therein. So much love and need and fear. Then he's cumming hard and moaning and then whispering, "I love you, Taylor." Without even thinking, so naturally it's like breathing, I whisper back, "I love you, too, Brian. So much. So fucking much." Wetness. Am I crying?

Then I'm in Brian's arms again. We're all sweat and heat and tears (mine), and he's holding me tight. So tight. Nuzzling my neck. I never want this moment to end.


	9. On the Road Again

Brian, Hubie (the judge who the mob has been trying to bribe or blackmail into obtaining convictions for its enemies and acquittals for its members), Billy (his 18-year-old hustler boyfriend, who, as it turns out, works for the mob), and I drive to where the Loading Dock (the bar in front of Mary's restaurant) used to be. To me, it seems like just a few days ago that Brian and I came here with Stephen (the first person we met in Boystown, who used to own the Abbott Hotel and who flirted with me shamelessly, mostly to nettle Brian) and Dennis (his younger, hipper, kind, and slightly silly boyfriend, who, strangely enough, had a "thing" for blonds). That night, Brian had decked a scary-looking bear who wouldn't take no for an answer. Unfortunately, Brian's chivalric behavior had earned him bruised ribs and a bruised jaw, but I had rewarded him with incredible mirror sex later that night, and we'd spent the next day in bed. When we weren't fucking, I was drawing Brian in various poses. That next night, we met the 16-year-old hustlers (Gabe, Raf, Nevan, Dan, and Sam) for whom Mary was mother hen.

As we pull up to the curb in front of where the Loading Dock used to be, I note that the bar is now called the 'Cell Block.' I wonder if Mary's restaurant is still at the back of the building. I also wonder, not for the first time since I'd woken up in the present, where the hustlers are and if they are well. I hope Mary knows.

Once Brian turns the car off, I step out and look down Halsted, remembering the walk to the Loading Dock, holding hands with Brian, and the incredible sex we'd had before that in C-Street's back room. Brian must be remembering, too, because he comes up behind me, slides his arms around my waist, and nuzzles my neck. Then, to my great astonishment, Brian says, his voice soft and husky with emotion, "Are you crazy? Why the hell would I want anyone here when I have you? I've never seen anyone as beautiful, and no one has ever made me want the way you do."

I turn, still very much in Brian's arms, and look into his eyes. He's smiling, and his eyes are bright, but they glisten with tears that Brian is no doubt struggling to keep from falling. I reply just as softly, just as huskily, "I can't tell you how happy you just made me. I want so much for you to want only me."

"There's no question that I do, Sunshine."

At that, I attack Brian's lips, his mouth, kissing him passionately, my own eyes filled with tears that threaten to fall. Brian, I observe with a painful twinge in my heart, kisses me back desperately, holding me so tight that it hurts a little, as though he hadn't seen me for years. Twelve years to be exact.

Our bittersweet reverie is broken when Billy snaps, in a voice containing both amusement and annoyance, "We'll never get anything done if you two stop to make out everywhere we go."

Brian chuckles, and I blush. We separate, but Brian takes my hand in his and leads me to the back of the building. Hubie and Billy follow. We walk past the side door, where we'd unwittingly been witness to the first segment of the Sam, Dan, and Nevan show, and past the place Brian had offered to be "my whore," fell to his knees, and sucked me off, to the door in the back. Brian must have been having the same thoughts because he squeezes my hand a little tighter.

To our surprise, Mary's restaurant is still there, and it's open. I smile at Brian. Maybe she'll be able to tell us where Dennis and Stephen are, if they still live. She was, after all, like a mother to Dennis.

We walk in quickly, an air of eager anticipation surrounding us, but stop dead in our tracks when we see the sign next to the kitchen, which used to read "Mary's Restaurant," but now reads, "The Halsted Diner." The rich brown tables and chairs that used to be here are gone, replaced with shining white booths and a long gleaming white counter with blue stools. A couple of waitresses in pink uniforms walk around delivering food and refreshing coffee cups, and the place is filled to capacity with businessmen having late lunches and families, early dinners. Crushed, but unsure where to go from here, we sit down at the only available booth.

*************

That morning, as Brian had asked, the hustlers come to the hotel. We had already packed our two small bags. When we had tried to pay for the room, Stephen had refused to take our money. Now Dennis and Stephen are both in the lobby, waiting to say good bye. Dennis hugs the hustlers and both Brian and I, although Brian is a bit uncomfortable during his hug, standing there woodenly, but then patting his back a little. Unexpectedly, Stephen hugs me, too, as Brian, glowering, watches. When I realize this, I pull away and shake my head. Maybe that wasn't such a surprise after all. Stephen grins broadly and pats Brian on the shoulder. Then he says good bye to the hustlers, shaking hands and ruffling hair. Just as we turn to leave, Dennis pulls me aside and gives me a small freestanding mirror. He smiles and says suggestively, "Travel size."

I laugh and blush. Then I follow everyone out the door. We take the Red Line back to Roosevelt and walk to the part of the river bank adjacent to the train tracks to wait for the 9:25 train. I'd purchased more maps, so I sit on the grass and begin studying them. I hadn't had much time this morning to plan, since Brian and I had been tripping (talking and fucking) until dawn. Then, feeling pretty wretched, we took a long hot shower and fell into bed. Dennis came in to wake us at 8am, bringing a breakfast tray. We'd eaten, showered again, and dressed, and, a few minutes later, the hustlers had arrived.

When I look up, I notice that Sam is stretched out on the grass, leaning back on his elbows, Dan is watching for the train, Gabe is standing reading a book, from the looks of it, the same book from the day before, Raf behind him, his arms around his waist and his head on Gabe's shoulder, and Nevan and Brian are sitting next to each other on the grass near me. The last observation is the strangest. Nevan and Brian, being outsiders by choice, are the least likely to be socializing, let alone with each other. In fact, after last night, I'd expected Nevan to be colder toward both Brian and I.

When Brian notices that I'm looking at him, he smiles, almost imperceptibly, and asks coolly, "So what's the plan?"

I smile back and reply, "Looks like we'll need to get off at St. Louis and switch trains. That should be a 6-hour trip."

Brian nods.

I smile brightly. "But…a couple miles before the train pulls into the station, there is a huge park, Forest Park. We could stay there for the night if you all want. There's a lake with two small islands in the middle and a boat house and, on the other side, there are restaurants, an art museum, and even a zoo!"

Brian teases, "Ooo! A zoo!" In a mock shy voice, he asks, "Will you hold my hand and buy me peanuts to feed the elephants?" Then he drawls, "I could call you, 'Daddy'; that'd be a little perverted, but, as always, I'm game."

I sigh, roll my eyes, and say, "Shut up, you!"

Nevan is nearly rolling with laughter.

Suddenly, Dan calls out, "The train!"

Brian, Nevan, and I all jump up. Sam follows, but more slowly. The train only pulled out of Union Station a couple minutes ago, so it's not moving too fast yet. We wait until we see two open cars at the end and then trot beside the train. Brian throws both our bags on, and everyone else follows suit. I jump right away (wanting to avoid, at all costs, what happened the first time, that is, waiting too long and then not being able to keep up). I'm still not very agile though, and I go rolling to the other side (thankfully, at an angle, so I don't roll out), hitting the far wall with an "Ooph." Brian is right behind me, but, of course, he manages to stop his forward momentum. I'm a little jealous of his agility, but I'm a little relieved that he doesn't go careening into me (he's taller and heavier, even in his current younger state).

Sam and then Dan follow. Once Nevan sees that Dan is alright ("Awww!"), he jumps on. Gabe, clearly nervous about the prospect of jumping onto a moving train, pales and balks, but, after Raf encourages him, he manages it.

That just leaves Raf. The train has started to pick up speed, so he huffs and puffs, pumping his legs hard to catch up. Brian and Nevan look at each other, as though communicating wordlessly, and then both head to the edge, leaning down and stretching out their arms. They each grab one of Raf's arms and actually lift him up and into the car.

Raf exclaims, "Wow! Thanks guys!" and then falls onto his back, trying to catch his breath.

I crawl into Brian's lap, and he slides his arms around my waist.

Gabe must have been very worried and now equally relieved because he does something I've yet to see him do, that is, make the first move with Raf, crawling over to him, laying his head on Raf's chest, and looking up at him sweetly. Raf's smile is as bright as the sun.


	10. The Waitress

**At the Halsted Diner, formerly Mary's Restaurant**

A brunette waitress with a page boy cut approaches our table. She hands us four menus and water in dirty glasses and then quickly departs. Brian grimaces when he sees bright pink lipstick on the edge of his glass and pushes it away in disgust. I'd been a little hungry before, but the sight turns my stomach and sends my appetite packing.

I whisper, "Gross!"

We look at the menus, but I doubt anyone feels like eating. A couple minutes later, the waitress, whose nametag reads Joanie, returns, chewing gum and cracking it loudly. She asks hastily, "So what'll it be, boys?"

Brian smiles his sexiest smile and drawls, with just a hint of sarcasm that I doubt anyone else can detect, "Joanie, what a beautiful name!"

Joanie flushes with pleasure.

"…I'll let you in on a little secret…We didn't actually come here for lunch."

Joanie shoves her ticket book into her apron, slips her pen behind her ear, and places a hand on her right hip. She smiles seductively and then purrs (well, attempts to purr), "So what did ya come for?"

Brian looks around and then shoots Joanie a disapproving glance. "This is a glorified dump. I bet you don't make much in tips."

Joanie shrugs. "I do okay."

Brian tilts his head and smiles. "Surely a beautiful, intelligent woman like yourself could do much better in another line of work."

Joanie frowns. She protests (loudly), "I ain't into that no more. And even if I was, I wouldn't do the four of ya all at once…"

Brian's eyes widen, and Hubie, Billy, and I fidget and clear our throats in discomfort. But then, Brian laughs. "I didn't mean anything like that."

Joanie raises an eyebrow. "Then what…"

Brian gestures for her to move closer and then whispers, "I need some information, and something tells me that you're very well informed."

She narrows her eyes suspiciously. "Maybe…depends what you wanna know…"

Still whispering, Brian asks, "What happened to the woman who used to own this place…Mary?"

Joanie freezes and then looks around uncomfortably. She whispers, "I might have the information you need…but you're gonna havta come across with a lot of dough…A lot of dough"

Brian smiles. "Money's no object."

She nods and looks around again. Then she says, "Good. Meet me at the junkyard on the corner of Meeker and Limpid at midnight. And bring cash."

With that, she runs off, disappearing into the kitchen.

Brian smiles and squeezes my thigh. "We're finally getting somewhere."

We arrive at the junkyard on the corner of Meeker and Limpid a few minutes before midnight. Brian insists that I wait in the car with Hubie and Billy. At first I refuse, but he is so adamant that, eventually, I give in. I hate the circumstances, but I can't say I mind how much Brian worries about me. I follow Brian with my eyes as he moves deeper within the junkyard.

I see a figure emerge slowly from the shadows. I hold my breath and fold and unfold my hands until I see that it's the waitress from the diner. Brian and Joanie start to talk. Still scared out of my mind, I mentally implore Brian to hurry. Less than a minute later, Brian and Joanie both freeze, glancing around nervously as though looking for the source of an unusual noise. Suddenly, a gunshot cracks through the air. My heart actually stops beating. I jump out of the car and run frantically toward Brian before Hubie and Billy even realize what I'm doing. I hear them crying out, "Justin, wait! Don't!" as I near Brian, but I ignore them. I clutch his waist protectively and look a short distance beyond him, where Joanie had been standing. She is now lying on the ground in a pool of blood. My eyes grow as large as saucers. Brian bends down to check Joanie's pulse.

I cry, "Oh God, Brian! Is she dead?"

Brian doesn't answer. Instead, he pulls me into his arms and sighs.

Then he breathes, "We need to go, Sunshine. Come on." He takes my hand and quickly leads me back to the car. Brian appears calm, but his hands shake as he slides the key into the ignition. That's the only indication that the grisly scene had any effect on him.

We speed away. No one speaks for several minutes. Finally, I squeak out, "Shouldn't we call the police?"

Brian rubs my thigh gently and reassures me, "I'll call from a payphone."

I just nod and stare into space blankly.

Hubie asks hesitantly, "Did you get what you needed?"

Brian just nods. Then, the car falls silent again. No one feels like talking.

A few minutes later, when I notice that we are pulling up to Hubie's apartment building, I ask anxiously, "What are we doing here?"

Brian declares firmly, "I want you to wait here with Hubie and Billy. I'll check us out of the hotel, call the police from a payphone, and then meet you back here."

Before Brian even finishes, I start shaking my head frantically.

Brian smiles softly and says, "I'll be fine. It won't take long. I promise."

Still shaking my head, I moan, "No. No, Brian. You can't go alone. You can't. I can't lose you."

Brian leans close to me and whispers, "Sunshine…I've waited twelve years for you to come back to me. Do you really think I'd let anything separate us now that you're finally mine again?"

I counter, "Brian, you can't control everything..."

At that, Brian leans back and quirks an eyebrow. I can't help but smile.

Without warning, Brian grabs my neck with both hands and pulls me to him roughly. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, kissing me passionately, more and more deeply with each passing second. I feel like he's trying to swallow me whole. Some moments later (the kiss had bereft me of the ability to sense the passage of time), he breaks our kiss, gazes into my eyes for a long moment, places a tender kiss on my lips, and then presses his forehead gently against mine. He breathes, "I love you, Justin."

I whisper huskily, "I love you, too, Brian." After a pause, I add, "Promise you'll come back to me."

Brian smiles, kisses my nose, and then says, "I promise, and you know I never break a promise."

I smile weakly and nod.

Brian chuckles and adds, "Plus, you still owe me a public fuck."

I flush with pleasure. My heart is beating a mile a minute. I ask breathlessly, "You still want me to?"

Brian holds my gaze as he nods slowly. Then he says loudly, "Now get the fuck out."

I smile, give him one last longing look, and then follow Hubie and Billy out of the car. We stand on the sidewalk, watching Brian drive off. Brian looks back at me and smiles, but then turns away. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by an unbearable ache in my chest. The pain seems to increase with the increasing distance between us. When I can no longer see the car, I let my head fall. Hubie and Billy both rub my back for a minute and then lead me into the apartment building.


	11. Making a Break For It

I curse. I'm being followed by two nondescript men in dark suits driving a Lincoln Town Car. When the implications of that fact hit me, I freeze and grip the steering wheel so firmly that my knuckles turn white. If they'd been following me since the junkyard, Justin could be in grave danger. I'd just left him alone with two mob targets: a traitor and a judge who won't play ball.

I try to regulate my breathing and resist the urge to make a U-turn. I need to lose the thugs first. I spot a narrow alley coming up fast on the right. I take a chance that it isn't a dead end and cut the wheel sharply to the right, veering into the alley. When I see the Lincoln making a U-turn at its mouth, having unsuccessfully attempted to enter it, I find myself in the strange position of being grateful to the inept clerk at the rental place who screwed up my reservation and gave me a compact. I should send the pimply faced jerk a muffin basket.

I breathe a sigh of relief. The alley is not a dead end. I turn right as soon as I can, down another narrow alley, and gun it. The second alley is quite long. I make it almost the entire way back to Hubie's apartment building before I need to turn back onto the main drag. I spend the rest of the way trying not to cause an accident as I divide my attention between the road ahead and the road behind. There's no sign of the Lincoln.

As I approach Hubie's street, I actually pray (I've done men of God, but I certainly can't, and generally wouldn't want to, count myself among them) that the men in the Lincoln are still looking for me on the road and that the mob had sent only the one car after us. When I finally reach Hubie's apartment building, I scan the area, but see nothing suspicious. Then I look around frantically for an out of the way place to park the car. I need to leave it out of sight, but not too far from the building just in case we need to make a break for it.

My anxiety increases as the seconds pass without my finding a viable solution. Hubie's building doesn't have an adjacent parking lot and is surrounded by a huge lawn. Fuck it! I drive up over the curb and the sidewalk and onto the lawn, continuing until I reach the back of the building. I park behind some trees, situating the car so that no one on Hubie's street can see it and in such a way that, once inside, we can drive straight out onto a road intersecting Hubie's street. If I hurry, we might get away before the men in the Lincoln can spot us (they're more likely to keep watch on Hubie's street than the cross-streets, or so I figure).

I slip out of the car and shut the door as quietly as I can. Then I head for the building, sticking as close to the trees as possible. When I reach the back door, I try it, but it's locked. Fuck! I have to go through the front. Unfortunately, there are no trees near the side or the front. With my back to the building, I sidle along, avoiding the occasional pools of light from streetlamps.

When I reach the front corner, I peek out and look both ways. I draw my head back quickly when I see headlights. A car is turning from the main drag onto Hubie's street. My anxiety mounts as I wait to see whether the car will pass Hubie's building. I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding when it does and turns out to be a Monte Carlo. I peek out again. The coast is clear, so I make a run for the door. Just as it swings closed, I hear the low rumbling of a car moving slowly. I take yet another deep breath (my heart is pounding, and I'm hopped up on adrenaline) and head up to Hubie's apartment. I decide against using the elevator, just in case that car was the Lincoln and the thugs are hot on my heels. Better to fool them (into thinking no one has recently entered the building) than to try to outrun them. I take the stairs four or five at a time, climbing (or, rather, skipping up them) as quickly as I can. I make it to the top on sheer willpower alone. This becomes even more clear when I nearly double over from a coughing fit. I hope to hell no one is in the stairwell with me. If so, it's all over.

After I recover, I peek out the door into the hallway, scanning both sides for trouble. I see and hear nothing, so I head toward Hubie's apartment. It's not far, so a few seconds later, I'm knocking softly and then clenching and unclenching my fists as I wait. Justin actually answers the door. When I see that he's alright and in no immediate danger, in one movement, I step inside, nudge the door shut, and take him into my arms, holding him tight, so tight, and burying my face in his hair.

Most likely alarmed by my quick return and my ultra-lesbianic greeting, Justin asks anxiously, "Brian? Is everything okay?"

I reply, a defeated tone to my voice, "Fraid, not, Sunshine."

But I don't let go. Not yet. I need to hold him for a little longer.

*************

I'm really scared. I've never seen Brian so freaked out. I shouldn't say "seen" because I feel rather than see his anxiety. Just the way he takes me into his arms, as though he recovered me from the very depths of hell, holding me so tight and so completely, with every part of him touching a part of me. When Brian finally releases me, he slips his hand into mine and threads our fingers together. Then he leads me into the living room. Hubie and Billy look up at Brian in surprise.

Brian informs them flatly, "I was being tailed. I lost them, but they probably started following us at the junkyard. We need to leave, so grab whatever you think you might need. We don't have much time."

Hubie squeezes Billy's hand and then jumps up, heading into another room. Billy looks especially distraught, and I don't blame him. Ugly brown suit man had already designed a horrific 'punitive measure' should Billy fail to entrap Hubie. I look at him compassionately and pat him on the shoulder. I want to reassure him, but I know any comforting words I offer will sound hollow.

Hubie returns with a small bag, and we head toward the door. Brian opens it and looks out, but then immediately steps back, closing and locking it quietly.

"Does this apartment have a fire escape?"

Hubie shakes his head. "Unfortunately, no."

Brian closes his eyes for a moment and sighs. Then he walks over to a window in the back of the apartment, overlooking a copse of trees behind the building. He pulls me along with him, but then releases my hand for the first time since he arrived. He turns off all the lights so that the only illumination is moonlight streaming through the window. He opens the window and peers down and to the right and left, finally craning his neck to the right when (I imagine) he catches sight of something promising.

"There's only one fire escape; it must be attached to a hall door that the whole floor can access. But we can get to it from the wide ledge right below the window."

Billy looks down. He must be scared of heights. Hubie must be aware of this because he rubs his cheek against Billy's and then whispers something I can't quite make out in his ear. My attention is immediately drawn back to the window and Brian when I hear the sound of rubber against wood. Brian crawls up onto the window sill, kneels so that he's facing us, and then grabs hold of the edge of the sill and lets his legs hang out the window. I stop breathing when he starts to inch his hands back slowly. He could fall at any moment. I look out the window and notice, with great alarm, that his feet are at least a foot above the ledge.

"Brian, let me help."

Brian looks up, studying my face for a moment, and then nods. I take his hands in mine one at a time in such a way that I'm half holding his hands and half his wrists. Then I start to lower him, all the while peering out the window to monitor his progress. A few moments later, when his chest is no longer partially resting on the sill, and I'm supporting his full weight, I slide toward the window and nearly drop him. I gasp, and Hubie grabs me by the shoulders to steady me. My heart is beating a mile a minute. I've never been more afraid in my life. But Brian doesn't seem fazed at all. He looks up at me, no trace of concern in his expression, and smiles a little. I'm startled by the trust in his eyes. Finally, mercifully, Brian's toes touch the ledge. I lower him a bit more, until he is standing on solid ground. I slide my hands up until only our hands are touching. Then I let my hands linger there for a moment and smile brightly.

"Ok, Sunshine. Get up on the sill and turn until you're hanging out the window. Then I'll grab you and set you down."

I'm still a bit shaky, so I slip a little as I maneuver myself into position, nearly tumbling head first out the window. Thankfully, I manage to brace myself up against the jamb. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Then I try again, this time successfully. When I feel Brian's hands on my waist, I relax involuntarily. No matter what the situation, his touch always calms me. I can't help but smile a little when I feel his strong arms around me. Brian sets me down, but doesn't let go right away. Instead, he holds me tight for a moment. It's heaven to me. Then, he lets his arms drop, and I move to the right to make room for Hubie and Billy.

Hubie comes down first (after leaning out to hand Brian his bag). I'm amazed at how strong Brian is. He doesn't wobble at all when he sets the much larger man down. Then Hubie helps Billy out. At first, Billy balks, bracing himself against the jamb and staring down at the ground, his eyes as wide as saucers and filled with terror.

Hubie, his voice rich and warm, reassures him, "You can do this. Just look at me, nothing else. There is no window, no ledge, no ground, just you and me."

Billy looks into Hubie's eyes. He doesn't move at first, but his body relaxes a bit. Before I thought he might break apart (quartering himself) he was pushing his limbs so hard against the jamb. After a couple of minutes, Billy kneels, never breaking eye contact with Hubie, and turns around slowly. Just when his chest is against the sill and he's starting to extend his legs out the window, we hear a loud pounding on the door. This startles Billy, and he lets go of the edge of the sill. Billy then slides out the window, fast. I gasp, and Brian moves closer to Hubie. Miraculously, Hubie manages to catch the boy, but he's thrown off balance. If not for Brian lending his weight to steady the man, both Hubie and Billy would have fallen to the ground. Once Billy is on the ledge, Brian grabs my hand and leads me toward the fire escape. Hubie and Billy follow.

The pounding gets louder and louder, but then ends with a crash. Whoever we're running from managed to kick Hubie's door down.


	12. Oh Fu k!

A/N: In this story, Justin's father owns a furniture store, not an electronics store.

The crash of Hubie's door falling to the floor sends a surge of adrenaline through my body. I pull Justin in front of me and push him toward the fire escape. The entire way there and down, I try to position my body between him and our pursuers. By the time we reach the fire escape, our pursuers realize we went out the window and start to follow.

Now we are running toward the car. I risk a glance back at the apartment building. As I expect, I see the two brawny dark-suited thugs who had been chasing me in the Lincoln Town Car. They are climbing down the fire escape. I run faster and urge Justin along. When we are a few feet from the car, almost home free, shots ring out. Fuck! They're shooting at us! Thankfully, their first volley goes far off target, hitting a couple of trees behind us, splintering the wood. They must still be at too great a distance from us to get a good shot. Fortunately, Justin is on the opposite side of me, as far away as possible (given the situation) from danger. However, the shots startle him, and he tumbles to the ground. I quickly help him up, and we take off running once more.

We finally make it to the car. I'm so glad I had the good sense to leave the doors open. When I see Justin, Hubie, and Billy scramble in, I breathe a sigh of relief and reach for the door handle. Just then, more shots ring out. Suddenly, I feel an impact to my arm, as though I were near an explosion and a piece of rock or steel had ricocheted off of it. I try to pull the door handle up, but I can't. In fact, I can't move my arm or my hand at all. Then I'm falling, and I feel a burning sensation, like my arm is on fire, inside and out. I can hear almost nothing, mostly just a rushing in my ears. The world starts fading to black. I try to keep my eyes open; it's so hard. I'm incredibly sleepy all of a sudden. But I have to make sure Justin is ok. I try to turn my head toward the car, but I can't. Apparently, my body is on strike. It only does half or less of what my brain tells it to.

Then I see Justin's beautiful face swimming in front of me. I smile a little at first, until I see that he's crying. His voice sounds muted and alternately grows louder and softer, as though he were speaking to me on a cell phone in an area with bad coverage.

He cries out, "Bri…love you…please…you…live. Hold on…for me…"

I want to reassure him, but all I can get out is "I…fine."

My eyelids are so heavy. I need to tell Justin that I love him. I need to make sure he knows. But I have difficulty forming the words, and I know I can't stay conscious much longer. Finally, I manage to whisper, "Love…Sun…shine." Something wet falls on my cheek, and something soft and warm surrounds the hand of my uninjured arm. Then I see and hear no more.

*************

Hubie and I pick Brian up and carry him to the car, while Billy gets in and starts it up, ready to gun it as soon as we're all seated. I crawl into the back seat and pull Brian in, finally plopping down when I reach the far side and placing Brian's head in my lap. Once Hubie shuts the other door and hops in the front passenger seat, Billy floors it, and we're off.

The men chasing us reach the copse of trees Brian had parked behind just as we're pulling out. They shoot at us, but no bullets fly through the windshield. If they hit the car at all, they must miss all the sensitive areas because nothing explodes, and the car is still running.

I examine Brian's arm, noting that the bullet went right through, and then remove my shirt and tie it tightly around both wounds. That seems to staunch the flow of blood. I look up and nearly vomit when I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. I'm literally covered in Brian's blood. I lean down and rub my cheek against Brian's. He's still breathing, though erratically.

Seeing Brian lying there, so pale and lifeless, I can't stop tears from springing to my eyes. I feel an unbearably painful ache in my chest and a cold lump at the pit of my stomach. If he doesn't make it…a wave of desolation, and nausea, passes through me at the thought that he might not.

I cry out desperately, "We need to get him to a hospital."

Suddenly, Brian stirs. He mutters, "No…no hospital."

I look down at Brian in horror. "What do you mean no hospital? You've been shot!"

Hubie asks calmly, so calmly that I could scream, "Is the bullet lodged in his arm?"

"No, but what if the wound gets infected? And he's lost a lot of blood. He might need a transfusion."

Hubie sighs and furrows his brow, contemplating the problem.

Finally, he says, "Brian's right. That's the first place those guys will look for us. Granted, he needs medical care, but he might be in greater danger at a hospital. At night, after visiting hours, he'd be alone and unprotected."

In frustration, I moan, "Then what are we supposed to do? He could die if we don't get him help! He can't die. He just can't!"

Unexpectedly, I feel Brian's hand, which I'd been holding, move. I can barely choke back a sob when I realize that he's trying to squeeze my hand, to comfort me.

Hubie, still maddeningly calm, offers, "I have a friend who's a doctor. We could take him there."

"Can we trust him?"

"I've known him since I was in pre-law. We were roommates. I introduced him to his wife. I'd trust him with my life."

"But can we trust him with Brian's?"

"I think he's Brian's best chance."

After an uncomfortably long pause, I reply softly, "Ok."

*************

So far Hubie's doctor friend seems to be worth the trust Hubie places in him. He didn't ask questions. He simply cleaned and bandaged Brian's arm, after checking for pus, swelling, inordinate redness, and faint red lines radiating from one or both of his wounds (I was looking over the doctor's shoulder the whole time, asking questions. I wanted to know what to look for). Then he checked Brian's lymph nodes for swelling (under his armpits, in his groin area, along his neck, and behind his ears) and took his temperature. By all indications, Brian's wounds aren't infected.

Once Brian was resting comfortably in a spare bedroom, me by his side, of course, Hubie's friend even went to the hotel to collect our belongings. On the way back, he made several stops and eventually took back roads, where a tail would be impossible to miss. He hadn't been followed.

Hubie and Billy are sleeping on a pullout couch in the living room, Hubie's friend is sleeping in his own bed, and I'm still in the spare bedroom with Brian, except that now I'm on the floor refolding all our clothes. Apparently, Hubie's friend was a little freaked out at the hotel. He just shoved our clothes and sundries into our suitcases and bolted. Brian will have a meltdown if he wakes to find all his clothes a rumpled mess.

I get all the way through Brian's clothes (in the large suitcase), having folded them all neatly in exactly the same way he does, so I decide to check his carry on. You never know with Brian. Few people would put clothes in a carry on, but Brian plans for everything. It would be exactly like him to pack an outfit just in case his other luggage were misplaced or damaged.

I smile. He had, in fact, packed a pair of jeans, a wife beater, and a club shirt in the small bag. Then my eyes widen when I see a medium-sized wooden box tucked beneath them.

Oh God.

With just one glance, I know exactly how the box came to be. The box was handmade, perhaps in a shop class. I swallow hard and pick it up, cradling it gently in my hands. Then I examine it more closely. Brian had made the box with cherry wood, giving it a reddish tinge, sanded it perfectly smooth, and rubbed it with linseed oil to keep it from cracking or rotting. (All this I know because I spent a great deal of time with my father in his furniture store. My father passed many a lazy summer afternoon teaching me how to judge the valuable from the worthless.) Then…then…(I blink back tears) Brian had inscribed "Taylor" on the top. I can't bring myself to look inside.

Imagining the pain I had inadvertently caused Brian, imagining the nightmare my life would become were he not part of it, wondering whether his leaving me would be, should be, my punishment for taking what I wanted in the past without having a clear idea about the consequences, I draw my legs up, my head down, cradling the box now with my body, and sob. I am so distraught that I don't realize Brian has awakened until he speaks to me. In a warm, soft voice, he asks, "Aren't you going to open it?"

I dry my eyes quickly and rush over to the bed. I smile so brightly that my cheeks hurt a little.

"You're awake! How do you feel?"

Brian grins, though weakly. "Like I've been shot."

I roll my eyes. "Ha. Ha. You're so funny…Not."

I just stand there next to the bed, still holding the box (to my chest), grinning like a fool.

Brian reaches out for my leg and strokes it gently. "So what was with the waterworks?"

I clench my jaw and shake my head. "It was nothing."

Brian sighs and rolls his lips into his mouth. He regards me for a long moment before, apparently, deciding to change the subject. "So…are you going to open the box?"

My eyes widen in surprise. "You don't mind?"

Brian smiles, one of his rare soft smiles, though they have been appearing more and more often lately. "It has your name on it, doesn't it?"

I smile shyly and sit on the bed next to him. Then I take a deep breath and open the box. I see a great many things I recognize.

The flashlight and radio we bought in Pittsburgh before leaving town.

The train timetable, subway schedules, and various maps of the Midwest and the South that we, mostly I, had pored over and unfolded and refolded into puffy crumpledness.

The small ("travel size") freestanding mirror Dennis gave us to facilitate mirror fucks on the road. Ah mirror fucks. Once Brian is healed up, I'm going to drag him straight to the nearest mirror. It's been too long (though much, much longer for him).

The drawing I did of the Abbott Hotel that first warm summer evening in Chicago.

I hold the drawing up and examine it carefully.

When Brian whispers, "The drawing is beautiful, just like the artist," the exact same words he used the first time he saw it, I flush with pleasure. Then I laugh, remembering Brian's initial objections to our staying at the Abbott.

I giggle. "Even at 16, you were a snob."

Brian quirks an eyebrow. "Say what you will, but you didn't seem to mind the Carlton's fluffy white robes and room service, amenities conspicuously absent from the Abbott."

I blush. "You got me there."

Drawings I'd done of Brian while trying to keep him immobile in bed, as he was healing up from his defense of my honor, well, of my ass, anyway. When I see the sketches of him clearly depicting his bruises from that fight, I frown. I look back up at Brian, gaze at him is more like it, and whisper, "You're always my hero, no matter what the cost to you." I swallow hard. "What did I ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?"

Brian replies evenly, holding my gaze, "Everything. Because of you, I believe and hope. And love. You were and are my Sunshine."

I stop. In every sense of the word. My heart, my breathing, my voice, …every part of me is touched into paralysis. However, as I learn a moment later, the shock I feel is just the tip of the iceberg. I glance down and catch sight of a pile of brochures and ticket stubs. I pick up the pile and start looking through them.

Oh God.

Brochures from art schools and business schools in Pennsylvania (PIFA, Carnegie-Melon, etc.) and from many, many others all over the Midwest and the South…brochures with ticket stubs to match.

Suddenly my chest aches, and my breathing is erratic and almost painful. My voice barely reaching a whisper, I choke out, "You went looking for me?"

Brian freezes, eyes wide. Apparently, he'd forgotten they were in there. He snatches them from my hands and places them carefully back in the box, along with everything else. As he does so, he shakes his head and confesses helplessly, "I thought…maybe…" Then angrily, "I don't know. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking…"

I set the box on a nearby end table and crawl into bed with Brian, snuggling up to him on his good side. I bury my face in his neck and, my body and voice still trembling from the force of this revelation, say, "I love you, Brian…Words don't even begin to express just how much..."

My voice breaks on the last few words.

Brian pulls me closer with his good arm and whispers, in a husky voice that causes my chest to ache even more painfully, "I just missed you…so fucking much…I would have done anything, gone anywhere…"

When he stops speaking, I look up at him. His eyes have lost focus and glisten with unshed tears. I have no idea what to do or say. I do the only thing I can. I hold Brian tighter. But I'm not sure whether I'm comforting him or he's comforting me…


	13. All My Hustlers, Take Two

A/N: In case you forget which of Mary's hustlers is which...I wrote a couple little synopses...

Gabe has longish blond hair, gray eyes, and pale, pale white skin that's almost blue. He's painfully shy and likes to read. Gabe gave Raf his name, but Raf doesn't know why (he chose it). Dan has black hair and blue eyes, but they are darker and cloudier than Taylor's. He's about Taylor's height. Rafael has longish brown hair, amber eyes, and bronze skin. He's warm and friendly. He calls Gabe "Baby." Sam is a big jerk with brown hair and hazel eyes. He looks similar to Brian except that he's not quite as tall and is thicker in the chest. He's exceedingly attracted to Taylor (he held Taylor's hand longer than he should have when they met). Nevan has red hair and green eyes and is tall and lanky. He's as confident as Sam, but more aggressive. He's very attracted to Taylor, too and even charms Taylor when they meet, making him blush and laugh (He later calls Taylor "the hot one"). Nevan has magnetic eyes and a lilting voice and is graceful, intense, and very intelligent.

Gabe and Raf are a couple, Sam is jealous of Gabe and Raf's relationship, Sam uses Dan for sexual gratification, even though Dan is (or seems to be) in love with Sam and is constantly looking out for Sam's interests, and Nevan likes Dan and wishes to disrupt the hold Sam has on him. Dan is pragmatic and shrewd in every area of life but love (basically where Sam is concerned).

**All My Hustlers, Take Two (Heading to St. Louis)**

Everyone's pretty beat from our acid trip last night. I doubt any of us got a decent night's sleep. So a couple hours into our 6-hour train ride, Sam, Raf, Gabe, Dan, and Taylor are happily snoozing. Taylor's curled up in my lap, his head on my chest, Gabe and Raf are wrapped up in each other's arms in a secluded corner, and Dan and Sam are sleeping sitting up on opposite sides of the car, right next to the open doors, but a safe distance away. I should sleep, but in this situation, where Taylor and I are illegally riding in a boxcar, with people we barely know, I just can't relax enough. Mostly out of boredom, I ask Nevan, "So why is Gabe so shy and uh…?"

Nevan smiles. "Freaky?"

I chuckle. "Yeah."

Nevan sighs heavily, and his eyes lose focus. A little more softly, he explains, "Everything stems from one horrible night."

Nevan pauses for a moment, but then shakes his head and continues, "Sam and Raf were each other's firsts you know?"

That surprises me. I'd just assumed that Sam was smitten with Gabe, not Rafael. I guess I thought that a boy who looked so similar to me would have similar tastes, and though Gabe is not, to me, half as beautiful as Taylor, and though they are very, very different, they have the same blond hair and porcelain skin and a similar shy innocence about them. Taylor also has courage, strength, and a light inside him that I've never seen in anyone, that I doubt any trauma, however severe, could ever diminish, and he has more talent in his little finger than most have in their entire bodies. Plus, he has a strange, but wonderful capacity for silliness, and a way of being so…present, experiencing more in a single moment than many do in their entire lives.

"The thing is, Raf wasn't in love with Sam. He was attracted to him, sure. They'd fuck. A lot. But that was it for Raf. Then, one fateful night, Raf encountered Gabe. He fell for him instantaneously. After that, Raf didn't even look at anyone else. Gabe quickly became Raf's entire world. Sam couldn't handle that. Though he'd never told Raf, he was in love with him. And, of course, he still is. Now Gabe was always shy, but he wasn't always so…troubled. That happened shortly after Raf and Gabe met. I have no proof of this, but…"

Nevan draws nearer to me and whispers, "I think Sam paid a couple of other hustlers he knew to 'aggressively seduce' Gabe. I think he figured that if Gabe were unfaithful that Raf would break up with Gabe. Unfortunately, the guys were a little too aggressive."

I swallow hard. I don't like where this is going. "What do you mean?"

"They basically raped him."

My eyes shoot open, and, unconsciously, I hold Taylor a little tighter.

"From what I heard, from what Gabe managed to tell Raf later, I gather that one of them held him down while the other started sucking his cock. He kept saying no, he kept trying to will his body not to respond, but, well, a guy's body and mind don't always synch up. He got hard and then the guy who was sucking his dick started riding him. I guess the guys figured that once he was hard and everything, he'd change his mind about wanting it. He didn't. After he came, he curled up into a ball and started sobbing. The guys ran off. When Gabe didn't come home, Raf went looking for him. He found him in the park, half naked, still in a ball crying."

I'm too stunned to react. I just gape at Nevan. He nods and continues, "Raf understood, of course, but Gabe still hates himself for what happened. Before, though I'm betting Sam didn't know this, Gabe and Raf hadn't done more than kiss. Gabe was shy, and Raf didn't mind waiting."

Nevan notes my incredulous expression and chuckles and shakes his head. "I know. It seems crazy that a person who sells his body would be so prudish with a boyfriend, but Gabe has always been the 'giver,' if you know what I mean. He'd never been sucked off or fucked anyone. And he was shy and a romantic. He wanted all that stuff to be really special. Anyhow, Gabe gives Raf head and lets Raf fuck him, but he has trouble whenever Raf tries to reciprocate or even kiss him. Every time he starts experiencing that kind of pleasure, he remembers those guys holding him down, and he still feels guilty. He thinks he should have been able to control his body or at least fight them off."

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah."

I narrow my eyes. "How do you even know this?"

Nevan shrugs. "I hear things."

"Why do you think Sam had anything to do with it?"

"From Gabe's description, they sound like a couple of hustlers Sam used to fuck regularly. After Raf and Gabe met anyway. I'm guessing that Sam thought that an indiscretion on Gabe's part would put space between Raf and Gabe, but, to his horror (I imagine), it had the opposite effect. Raf is even more devoted to Gabe than he was before, though, I mean, he was really, really devoted from the very beginning, so the difference is small. But if Sam had any hope of ever coming between them before, he has absolutely none now. The fucked up thing is that Sam had a better chance doing nothing at all."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Raf might have gotten impatient with Gabe if Sam had just bided his time. Then again, maybe not. But now, now, Raf would wait an eternity."

"So how does Dan fit in?"

Nevan's face darkens. His voice a near growl, he replies. "Dan's been smitten with Sam for the last couple of years. Ever since Sam popped his cherry. Sam's being in love with Raf just made Dan want him more. The messed up thing is that before Raf met Gabe, Sam and Dan had only ever fucked the one time. But since Raf and Gabe hooked up, Sam's been occasionally turning to Dan for 'comfort.' Sam is such a selfish son of a bitch. He knows, _he knows_, that Dan's in love with him. He doesn't care who he hurts if it means he gets what he wants."

Nevan scoffs, "But Dan wouldn't think he walked on water if he knew that Sam was involved in that thing with Gabe."

"Why don't you tell him?"

Nevan sighs. "I have no proof. Plus, I don't want to win that way. I want…I want…"

"What?"

"I want him to realize that he should be with me. Not because Sam's an asshole, but because of who I am. And…I don't, I don't even want Dan to give up on Sam because he finally gets it through his head that Sam will never love him. I want him to do it because of his feelings for me."

Nevan looks down and sighs. "But of course, I can't stand to see Dan prostrate himself in front of that fuckhead. Sam treats him like dirt. I keep telling myself that I've given up and that I'm just trying to be Dan's friend…but…I just can't help wanting him. No matter how pathetic I feel."

*************

I wake up (I'd taken a couple-hour nap on the train) to find Nevan and Brian deep in conversation. I shake my head and smile. Nevan is a continual surprise. Brian, too. But as soon as Brian feels me stir, he shifts me so that I'm straddling him. He tilts his head and drawls, speaking to Nevan, but looking at me, "Pardon me. Something's come up, and it can't wait."

I smile brightly.

Then Brian picks me up and carries me to a dark, empty corner holding onto the wall to maintain his balance. Even now, he is so tall that he can easily reach above the open door to the wall there.

When we reach the corner, he sets me down on my feet. He stares at me for a moment, as though deciding something and then directs me to lie down on my back. I eagerly comply, not sure what he has in mind, but certain I'll enjoy it. Then he kneels, unzips and unbuttons my jeans and frees my cock. I'm surprised and so excited. Brian has never sucked me off in front of anyone before (I don't count the almost blow job in the jeep our first night). This younger version of Brian let me fuck him in C-Street's backroom, but he was high on ecstasy at the time.

Brian then frees his own cock and crawls on top of me the opposite way, feeding me his cock as he takes mine into his mouth. I suck Brian's cock so vigorously that, in short order, he is moaning and writhing, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth, quickening the pace. His moaning and the subsequent vibrations against my cock drive me wild. That plus his swallowing around the tip of my cock every time it enters his throat makes me feel like I'm floating. I can't help but thrust upward, pushing my cock in and out of his mouth faster. I'm close. Brian lets me do all the work now, just licking and sucking as I push my cock into his mouth and then swallowing when the tip reaches his throat, but no longer bobbing his head. We cum simultaneously.

Once Brian and I are sitting up and fully dressed again, I notice that Nevan is staring at Dan, with dark, lust-filled eyes. But his eyes contain sadness and longing, too. I look at Brian and frown. I feel kind of guilty for our little floorshow. Then I hear movement in the corner where Gabe and Rafael were sleeping. Brian and I must have woken them up because they are now rutting against one another. Brian and I exchange amused looks.

Dan starts making noises. He's waking up. Suddenly, Nevan looks at me. Our eyes meet, but his quickly lose focus, as though he is deep in thought or remembering something (perhaps my suggestion that he pursue Dan relentlessly). For a moment, I see vulnerability there.

But then he unexpectedly jumps to his feet and approaches Dan. He sits next to him and whispers something in his ear as he rubs Dan's obvious erection through the fabric of his pants. Dan moans softly.

Pretty soon, like a chain reaction, our sixty-nine spurs an impromptu orgy. Everyone but Sam, who is still asleep and snoring, starts fucking. In one corner, Rafael has Gabe on his lap (Gabe is riding him), but he has Gabe's coat slung over them, so they have some privacy. I can't help but smile at that. Rafael is so sweet.

Nevan had taken Dan to another corner and had pulled down his jeans (apparently none of the hustlers wore underwear because Dan wasn't wearing any) and, now, kneeling before him, he wolfs down Dan's cock. Dan begins to pant. When Dan is close (he'd moaned softly, "Oh God, Nevan, I…oh fuck…"), Nevan stands up and then spins Dan around and pushes him up against the wall, but not roughly. Then he frees his cock, sheathes and lubes it, and starts pushing it inside Dan. He goes slow and pauses whenever Dan grunts. When he's all the way in, Dan leans his head back onto Nevan's shoulder, and Nevan starts licking, sucking, and nibbling on Dan's neck as he thrusts in and out of him slowly. I think Nevan must be trying to stifle his own moans with the kissing because when he stops working on Dan's neck, he immediately moves to his mouth, placing a few tender pecks on Dan's lips and then kissing him passionately. When Nevan is close (I can hear him moaning softly even though he and Dan are still making out), he begins jerking Dan off. They come together, still kissing, but now frantically.

After Nevan pulls out and tosses the condom out the nearest door, he kisses Dan's cheek tenderly and smiles. I think, "Aww..." and smile brightly at Brian. Brian actually smiles back at me. Dan blushes (I guess he just now realizes that we were watching), and, when he catches sight of Sam's sleeping form, he closes his eyes and frowns, moving away from Nevan quickly to return to his original position across from Sam. I guess he feels guilty. None of this goes unnoticed by Nevan. He pulls up his pants, leans against the wall, and then lets himself slide down (he's still in the corner). He doesn't even fasten his pants. He just watches Dan go, his jaw clenched. My heart aches for Nevan.

Brian and I had mostly been watching Nevan and Dan, but we both turn toward Gabe and Rafael now. Gabe is riding Rafael faster and faster, his eyes closed tight and his cock purple and covered in precum. Suddenly Rafael pushes Gabe onto his back, surprising not only Brian and I but also Gabe. He pulls out of Gabe, rips the condom off his dick, and then deepthroats Gabe even as he starts to jerk himself off. Gabe's eyes widen. I watch in alarm, afraid that Gabe will freak out. Rafael deepthroats Gabe feverishly, even desperately, sucking and swallowing like a man possessed. Gabe mewls and then cries out (that's the loudest I've ever heard his voice) as he cums into Rafael's mouth. After Rafael finishes gulping Gabe's cum down, he leans back. Gabe, quick on the uptake, pushes Rafael's hand away and deepthroats him twice. Then Rafael cums into Gabe's mouth, moaning a deep body moan. Afterward, Rafael and Gabe smile at one another, Rafael brightly and Gabe shyly. Then Rafael pulls Gabe into his arms and pulls Gabe's coat over them. They are so fucking adorable! Even Brian seems to think so. His eyes light up, and he pulls me into his lap, nuzzling my neck.


	14. Sam's Out

**Forest Park, St Louis**

We had arrived in St. Louis and disembarked without incident. We spent what was left of the afternoon walking through the park. We had even visited the St. Louis Art Museum (admission was free). We were all a little nauseated by Lovis Corinth's grotesque female nudes (one was nearly obese and the other was almost anorexically thin, and both had huge boobs) and puzzled by Alexei von Jawlensky's clownish, slightly frightening figures, but we all thought that Michele Tosini's (young) _St. John the Baptist_ was pretty hot, and I was fascinated by Kayama Matazô's _Star Festival (Tanabata)_, a 6-panel folding screen (it looked like a simple design, but was actually quite complex), and Gerhard Richter's _Ölberg_, an abstract painting in red, yellow, green, and blue. Nevan was cold toward Sam, of course, but Brian seemed unusually annoyed by Sam, and even disgusted with him. I wondered if he knew something I didn't or was just trying to be a good friend to Nevan. After our visit to the museum, we pigged out on chili dogs (older Brian would have been appalled by the number of chili dogs young Brian consumed, particularly since he wasn't even high). When it neared dusk, we decided that spending the night on one of the islands in the lake would be cool, but we knew that we'd need to sneak over there, as people weren't allowed in that part of the park after dark. So Brian, Raf, and Nevan went in search of a secluded spot we could swim from or cast off from (if they were able to find a boat we could 'borrow').

Gabe, Dan, Sam, and I are now waiting for Brian, Raf, and Nevan in a copse of trees not too far from the lake. Gabe is reading, as he is wont to do, and I am covertly sketching him (I don't want to make him feel self-conscious, but he is a very interesting subject). Dan is sitting with his back against a tree watching Sam, but trying not to be too obvious about it, and Sam is lying on his side, staring at Gabe. I wonder why. Is Gabe the object of Sam's 'affection?' I'm suddenly glad that Gabe is always so far removed from the rest of the world. Between Sam and I, he'd be extremely uncomfortable if he weren't.

Suddenly, Sam declares, addressing Dan, "I'm horny. Suck me off."

Gabe continues to read, but I glance up. Dan looks like he's about to comply, until his eyes meet mine. I feel bad for the kid, and I think he perceives my pity because he blushes a deep crimson and stays seated.

Sam observes Dan's reticence and is none too pleased. He growls, "Forget it" and moves to leave, I imagine, in search of someone else to do the job.

Dan jumps up and cries out desperately, "Wait. Umm, why don't you and I go somewhere we can be alone."

Sam smirks. Then he approaches Dan slowly and drawls, "Come on, I thought you liked it when people watched." When he reaches Dan's side, he pushes Dan to his knees, unzips and unbuttons his jeans, and pulls out his dick. Then he starts rubbing against Dan's lips. Oh my fucking God. What an ass! Seriously, could he be any more demeaning?

Dan just sits there (well, kneels there), not saying or doing anything. I can't read his expression.

Sam licks his lips and then drawls, "I know you're a cumwhore. Come on. Suck it."

At that, Dan leaps to his feet and glares at Sam. "Fuck you!"

Then he runs off. I give Sam a dirty look and follow Dan. Unfortunately, it's dark now, and Dan runs fast. After five minutes of looking, I still can't find him, so I head back. When I reach the copse of trees where we had been sitting, Gabe is no longer there. Brian, Nevan, and Raf choose that moment to return.

Nevan and Raf look around quickly, concern clouding their eyes, and then in unison, they ask me, "Where's Gabe?" and "Where's Dan?"

I point the way Dan went and reply, "Dan ran off that way. I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find him. When I came back, Gabe was gone."

Nevan inquires, "Was Dan upset?"

I nod. I look uncomfortably at Sam. I'm not sure what to say. Nevan must have an idea what Sam did because he mutters (Sam's way), "Asshole" and heads off in the direction Dan took off.

Brian suddenly comes up behind me and slides his arms around my waist. I jump when he first touches me, but then smile and relax into his embrace.

Raf turns to face Sam and asks, "Where's Gabe?"

Sam just shrugs and smiles.

Panic evident in his voice, Raf presses, "What do you mean, you don't know? You were with him, weren't you?"

Sam just stares at Raf.

His voice rising with his increasing panic, Raf asks, "Well, how long has he been gone? Was he upset?"

Sam shrugs again and replies coolly, "You could say that."

At this point, I'm about ready to smack Sam. I can't imagine how Raf must be feeling. Raf snaps, "What happened?"

Sam kicks at a tree stump and looks down. Then he smirks and looks back up at Raf. "I don't know. He might have gotten the impression that you prefer brunets."

Raf stiffens. "You didn't tell him about us, did you? That's ancient history."

Sam clenches his jaw. Then he smirks again. "Let's see…what did I tell him…maybe that you like guys who aren't scared of their own shadows. That you enjoy the occasional ass pounding. That you'll never be happy with someone who can't ever take the lead and who freaks out when you try to blow him."

As Sam was speaking, Raf grew paler and paler. I don't know if Brian does this intentionally, but he holds me a little tighter. I smile and take one of his hands in mine, threading our fingers together.

I expect Raf to explode, and he does, lunging at Sam and pushing him up against the nearest tree. Sam could make Mother Theresa go berserk. Raf hisses, "You son of a bitch! Why? Why would you say those things? None of that is true! And what the hell has Gabe ever done to you?"

Without even thinking, Sam spits out, "He took you, didn't he?"

Raf's eyes widen. He chokes out, "What?"

Sounding very much like a five-year-old, Sam whines, "Before he came along, it was just us. We were happy."

Raf releases Sam and backs away. He shakes his head and looks at the other boy helplessly. He states softly, "Sam, that was just fucking. I love Gabe."

Sam glares at Raf, his eyes burning with jealousy and rage. Then he smiles. "Well, he'll never fuck you. I made sure of that."

Raf's eyes widen. "What?"

Sam hisses, "You remember the night you found him crying in the park? I asked a couple pals of mine to teach him a lesson."

Raf stiffens. He just stares at Sam incredulously. He's as white as a sheet. I wonder what Sam means. Did his friends beat Gabe up?

Sam continues to taunt Raf (a very unwise move). "Gabe will _never_ be yours. Not really. Not after his 'ordeal.'"

I'm expecting Raf to attack Sam again. Brian must be, too, because he moves us back, putting a little distance between us and Sam and Raf. But my eyes nearly pop out of my head when Raf asks sweetly, "You did all that for me, Sam? You really want me that much?"

It's got to be a trick. It makes no sense otherwise.

Raf steps closer to Sam, rubs his cheek against Sam's neck, and then starts placing open-mouthed kisses along it, all the while rubbing his groin against Sam's. Raf whispers, "I've missed you, you know." Sam moans softly, but, then, he replies, "I've missed you, too. So much."

Raf slides his hands over Sam's ass and purrs, "I bet."

He squeezes Sam's ass and starts nibbling on his earlobe, eliciting a shiver from Sam.

Then he adds, "You used to love it when I pushed you on all fours and slid my cock inside you. I'd thread my fingers through your hair and rip your head back as I fucked you. Oh…the way you used to moan and cry out my name. The way you used to beg me to fuck you harder and faster. You liked it when I fucked you so hard that you could feel me inside you days later, didn't you?"

Sam actually whimpers and replies, his voice barely rising above a whisper, "Yes, oh yes."

Raf whispers, directly into Sam's ear, "You want me to fuck you like that now?"

Sam begs, "Please, oh please," trembling a bit as he does so (I never thought I'd see the day when a guy like Sam would be begging for cock, especially not in front of an audience, but I don't think he's really aware of us anymore. All he can see is Raf).

I didn't think it possible, but my eyes grow even wider when Raf unzips and unbuttons Sam's jeans and pulls out his cock. Then he starts stroking it. Sam closes his eyes and moans loudly.

Suddenly, Raf stops jerking Sam off, though he's still holding Sam's dick, and pulls out a knife. I gasp. Brian whispers in my ear, "We 'borrowed' that to cut the rope holding the boat. The knot's too tight." I shake my head. Raf is the sweetest, friendliest guy. Leave it to Sam to turn him into a knife-wielding maniac. Course, if Sam threatened Brian, I would do the same thing.

Raf places the knife, edge forward, against Sam's shaft, at the base. Sam's eyes shoot open.

Raf's eyes and voice are cold as he answers Sam's plea ("Please, oh please.") "Never. I'll _never_ fuck you again. You disgust me. Now tell me where Gabe went, and I won't cut your dick off."

Brian laughs. I look back at him in surprise. But I fight the urge to admonish him. After what Sam's been doing with Dan, after getting his friends to harm Gabe, and after fucking with Gabe's head, Sam is getting exactly what he deserves. That rarely happens.

Raf and Sam don't seem to have heard Brian. Raf is glaring daggers at Sam, and Sam looks frightened.

"Raf, come on, you can't be serious."

Raf growls, "Try me."

Sam sputters, "But…"

Raf hisses, "But what? You just admitted to orchestrating Gabe's rape (I gasp and stare at Sam in horror). I should slice your dick off and then use your life as a bargaining chip to find out where Gabe went. You fucking deserve it."

Sam cries out, "You talk about your feelings for Gabe, but what about my feelings for you? Don't they matter?"

Raf hisses, "What are you trying to say? That you love me?"

Sam nods slowly, a serious look in his eyes.

Raf scoffs, "You don't love me! You don't fucking know what love is! Love is putting someone else's needs above your own. Love is wanting the person you love to be happy even if it's not with you. Now fucking tell me where Gabe went or say goodbye to your dick!"

Sam mutters, "I told him you'd be better off without a freak like him who couldn't meet your sexual needs… (Raf clenches his jaw) that if he loved you, he should take off to parts unknown. So he went back to the station."

Raf steps back. As he puts the knife away, he growls, "I can't fucking believe you. I guess I never knew you at all. If I ever see you again, I'll fucking kill you! You got that?"

Sam stares at Raf in shock. "Wait, what?" Sam can't actually believe that there's a way to come back from this.

Raf explains, still seething with rage, "I want you to disappear. I can't even fucking look at you. If I see you again, I'll slit your God-damned throat!"

Nevan and Dan suddenly appear and stand next to Raf. I'm not sure how much they heard, but probably most of it judging by the angry looks on their faces. Raf takes off in the direction of the train station. Nevan follows.

Sam turns to Dan with a pleading look in his eyes, "Dan…"

Dan seems sad, but he shakes his head and follows Raf and Nevan. Brian and I head in the same direction.

A few seconds later, we hear a loud, "Fuck!"


	15. The Past and Present Intersect Again

13 North Tenth Street

St. Louis

In my hand (the hand on my good side), I hold a note with these six words written in the loopy cursive one mostly sees in the homework of young girls. This is all the help the waitress was able to provide before being gunned down. So that's where we're heading.

Earlier, I'd called the car rental place, telling the guy on the phone that I was ill and asking whether a friend could return the car for me. I don't know what the usual policy is, but the guy said that that would be okay. So Hubie's doctor friend returned the car and then loaned us one of his (he had two).

We'd decided that driving to St. Louis was the least conspicuous way of getting there. Remembering the chat we'd had about transportation, I laugh and pull Justin closer (he's sitting next to me in the back seat). Justin actually suggested that we hop boxcars to get down to St. Louis, but I wasn't sure Billy and Hubie would be able to do it, with Billy being afraid of heights and Hubie older than me and unused to exercise outside of the gym. Hell, I wasn't sure I could do it anymore. I wasn't quite as limber as I was when I was 16, and then, of course, my arm was in a sling. When I'd pointed that out, Justin had turned bright red and shook his head. He had apologized, "What the fuck was I thinking? I'm sorry," but I'd shook my head and smiled. Then I'd pulled him into my lap and, with uncharacteristic nostalgia (something that had been occurring more and more often after I'd realized that Justin was Taylor), I whispered, "I would have liked to do that with you again. So many of my happy memories, pretty much all the good ones from adolescence, involve you and boxcars." That caused Justin to smile brightly (and made me feel warm all over; the feeling I got when I made the kid happy was like an incredible drug, and I was quickly becoming addicted.).

So now we're driving. Well, Hubie is. With my arm still fragile and achy, I can't. My mind is racing, though I doubt anyone would guess from my most likely impassive expression. I'd practiced that expression for so many years that now it's my 'normal' expression, the one my face wears without my even thinking about it. I'm reviewing what I know, desperately trying to make all the pieces fit.

1. The mob now owns the Abbott Hotel and acts as pimps for young hustlers (like Billy), even using them and the hotel to blackmail johns (like Hubie).

2. Stephen and Dennis used to own the Abbott Hotel and seemed quite determined to fix it up and make it not only a neighborhood landmark but also their home.

3. A decade ago, Dennis's surrogate mother Mary had been in the habit of giving young hustlers food and shelter, treating them like her children.

4. Dennis had most likely been a hustler when he met Mary. That's probably how she became his surrogate mother.

5. Mary had sold her restaurant and had apparently moved to St. Louis, even though there were still hustlers in dire need of mothering in Boystown and she'd called Chicago her home for 50 or 60 odd years.

6. Stephen and Dennis were apparently alive, but gone, who knows where. They'd most likely had their hotel bought out from under them and had been unable to get it back. The mob had probably threatened them, sending them into hiding.

7. Ten years ago, Raf had been scared for Gabe, desperate to get them both out of town. Why? I had always assumed Raf was trying to protect Gabe from an abusive john, but perhaps what Raf feared was much stronger and more terrifying than one violent customer. Maybe the mob had started to muscle its way into the hustler trade way back then.

What seems clear is that everything, the past and present, is connected somehow. The fates of Stephen, Dennis, the hustlers, Mary, Billy, and Hubie are all linked. I just need to figure out how. I repeat (in my head), "The past and the present are connected somehow." Justin keeps saying that he and I are fated to be together, and (though I wouldn't tell anyone) I actually believe him. But perhaps, we were thrown together not only to love one another (I shudder a little at that; I'm still unused to the words, the idea that I'm in love with Justin) but also to out whatever horrible secrets bind all these people together. Justin and I never discuss his actual trip back in time. We talk about what happened while he was there, but not how he got there or why he was sent. Yes, by the time I met Justin, I was closed off, but most of the reason for that was that I'd loved Taylor so deeply and then lost him. Why not simply have me meet Justin when I was 29? Why have him figure as part of my past, closing me off only to open me up again later? Why did we go to Chicago first? Why did Mary go to St. Louis (our second stop) years later? Our stops seemed random, but were they? Are we (and have we always been) acting out some pre-choreographed dance? I suppose I should stop analyzing everything and just be happy that Justin is here with me, that he was there with me. That we seem destined to be together.

Justin suddenly asks, "Are you okay, Brian?" pulling me out of my head. I look at him in surprise. My expression must have given me away. I shake my head and smirk. "Of course. Just thinking of ways to fuck you with one arm. The sling is inconvenient."

Justin flushes and leans in, whispering, "I can always ride you. You love it when I ride your cock."

My breath ragged, I whisper back, "I do indeed." I readjust myself (my pants have grown uncomfortably tight), but I smile when I see a sign heralding a rest stop. I close my eyes and imagine sitting on the grass in some out of the way place, Justin sliding up and down my shaft. I open my eyes and clear my throat. Then I say, "We should stop soon. I need to stretch my legs."

Justin laughs (and smiles brightly). "Yeah, me, too."

A/N: I'll post the second part of this chapter in a few hours, picking up with the search for Gabe.


	16. The Search for Gabe

Raf is walking so fast we can barely keep up. Thankfully, the train station isn't far, and Gabe would have headed for the place we disembarked to wait for another train, so we don't need to waste time looking. Once we reach the station, we head for that same place. Raf is still walking fast. But when a train pulls in, he starts running, pushing people out of the way and dodging light poles. Finally, we reach the place we had disembarked earlier. All of us (all but Raf) are bent over, our chests heaving, desperately trying to catch our breath. Raf is breathing heavy and sweating profusely, but he manages to remain upright, turning this way and that, frantically scanning the area for Gabe.

Suddenly, we hear a rustling noise. A moment later, Gabe emerges from the shadows, his bag slung over one shoulder. He glances over at Raf and then away. Raf seems frozen for a second, but then rushes over to Gabe, pushes his bag to the ground, and pulls Gabe roughly into his arms. Tears stream down Raf's face as he moans, "How could you just leave, without even saying goodbye? What were you thinking?" (I stiffen, imagining Brian asking me that very same question one day). Then Raf pulls Gabe back and looks at him, waiting impatiently for an answer. Gabe shakes his head and looks down.

Gabe trembles as he whispers, his voice hoarse, "I was thinking that you…that you were better off before we met. You had Sam, someone who could give you everything….everything you want, everything you need."

Then he turns away from Raf. We can hear him sobbing softly.

Raf lets his head fall and sighs. Then he clenches his jaw and lifts his head once more, his eyes burning with determination. He grabs Gabe's shoulders and spins him around. Then he hisses, "Why can't either of you let _me_ decide what's best for me? What I want? What I need? Huh?"

Raf's voice rises to a fevered pitch. "Fuck, Gabe! You're all I want, all I need. Ever since I saw you, all I wanted was to be with you. Yes, I fucked Sam, but that's all it ever was, and it wasn't even that good. It was nothing to what we do."

Raf's voice falls to a whisper. If I'm not mistaken, his voice is trembling now. "Gabe, the way it feels when I kiss you, when I pull your body against mine, when I run my fingers through your soft hair, when you slide your mouth over my cock, when I push my cock inside you…nothing, nothing compares. Nothing I've ever experienced compares. Fuck, if all I could do was hold you while you sleep, I'd be happy. I just want to be close to you, for you to be mine. Whatever that means. Yes, I want to be able to bring you off by just sucking your cock, for you to be comfortable fucking me, but I can wait. I can wait forever if I have to."

Gabe's eyes are brimming with tears now. He shakes his head and whispers, "But…"

Raf pulls Gabe into his arms again, squeezing him so hard that it looks like it hurts, and, his voice husky, he cries softly, "Do you want to hurt me?"

Gabe pulls back so that he can look Raf in the eyes and shakes his head furiously, "No…I would never hurt you… not intentionally!"

Raf moans, "Then why are you always trying to run away? Huh? Just…just stay with me. If you want me to be happy, just stay with me."

I close my eyes to keep tears from falling. When I open them again and turn toward Brian, his are glistening, too. He slides his arm around my waist, as though he could keep me here by simply holding onto me. Turning back to Gabe and Raf, I note that Gabe looks like he doubts his presence alone will make Raf happy, but he nods anyway. When Raf laughs and asks, "Okay?" Gabe says, "Okay" and smiles. Then Gabe surprises us all by staring at Raf for a moment (that's not the surprising part), his eyelids growing heavy with desire (that's not the surprising part, either), and then attacking Raf's lips (_that's_ the surprising part). That might have been the first time Gabe had ever initiated anything with Raf. Brian and I had certainly never seen Gabe be so forward. Gabe whimpers and Raf moans softly as they kiss passionately, even desperately. I smile a soft, muted smile and then turn into Brian's embrace and follow Gabe's lead, kissing Brian passionately. After a few minutes of scorching hot kissing (and near fucking), Gabe and Raf separate (though they are holding hands). Brian and I separate, too, when Nevan nudges us, grinning broadly. I slip my hand into Brian's and thread our fingers together. Then we all head back to the copse of trees for our bags. Not surprisingly, Sam is gone. If Gabe is surprised by his absence, he doesn't say anything. A couple minutes later, we are in the boat. Brian pushes us off with an oar, and then we are gliding toward the huge tree-lined island in the middle of the lake.


	17. The Lucky Penny

We used the rowboat Brian, Nevan, and Raf had found earlier to get to the island after returning from the train station. It started pouring just a few minutes after we made it to the other shore. But after we'd gotten high (under a tall tree with thick foliage), we didn't much mind being in the rain or being stuck under the rudimentary structure we managed to build. Brian had the brilliant idea to hoist the boat (upside down) on four thick branches. It was easy to push our makeshift posts into the dirt, or rather, the mud (it had been raining a while before we attempted it). Then we took big branches with networks of little branches and leaves attached, six of them (two for each of three sides), and leaned them up against our boat shelter. Gabe had had the great idea to tie the branches together (at the top) with the rope from the boat so that the branches would be less likely to fall (the wind was blowing pretty hard). Course, he hadn't presented this idea to all of us, but had whispered it into Raf's ear. Gabe's shyness was no joke. I really hope we can draw him out a little during the trip. For the final touch, we laid a few branches on the "floor" of the shelter (to keep it dry) and used our jackets and other clothes as padding.

Now we are all sitting in our boat shelter, relatively dry (we'd gotten a bit wet making it) and comfortable. The rain's patter on the "roof" is giving me the most pleasant shivers. I'm sitting in between Brian's legs. His arms are around me. We're all damp and filthy, but happy. When Raf breaks out the muffins Mary made us, we're even happier. We have the munchies, and bad.

Out of the blue, Raf cries out, "Ow!" He moves over a bit and pushes his jacket aside to discover a pine cone. He laughs and throws it outside our boat shelter. Then he exclaims, "Oh wow!"

I ask, "What?"

Raf smiles brightly. "A penny. It's right-side up…and it's from 1972."

Raf nudges Gabe's nose, and, though it seems impossible, he smiles even brighter. "That's Gabe's birth year. That's gotta be a sign. This trip is going to be phenomenal. I just know it."

I look up at Brian. I kind of expect him to roll his eyes, but, instead, he breathes, "Yeah. I think you're right." Then he holds me tighter.

*********

I glance down at the note the waitress had given me. It reads 13 N. Tenth Street. I look back at the street sign, N. Tenth Street, and then down at the number on the mailbox for the structure in front of me, 13, but I still can't believe it. It is, or was, a house, but there's not much left. Someone had burnt it to the ground. And many years ago, if the tall grass growing through the cracks in the foundation is any indication. I sigh as I look around at the nearby houses. This might have been a nice neighborhood a decade ago (the neighboring houses are tall and well built, with large porches and garages. But now most are covered in chipping paint, dirt, and graffiti. Quite a few have blocked up windows, and the grass is scraggly and littered with junk (carburetors, broken lawn chairs, etc.) and garbage, though, of course, there is, arguably, some overlap. To no one in particular, I say, "I'm guessing that it would be pointless to question the neighbors. Even if they lived here when this happened, which I doubt, they probably wouldn't tell us anything."

Billy huffed a laugh as he looked around. "Nope."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Justin calls, "Brian, come here. I think I found something."

While I had been surveying the neighborhood, Justin had been pawing through the grass, looking for clues. Justin smiles brightly as he hands me a blackened metal box. Hubie and Billy follow. We are all standing around it as I open the lid. Inside is a piece of paper folded in half, a fortune from a fortune cookie, and a penny. Justin removes the paper and unfolds it. His eyes grow as big as saucers. He whispers excitedly, "Oh my God!" Then he shows it to us. I recognize it immediately. But Hubie and Billy are confused. "Do you know him?" Hubie asks about the figure depicted. I nod. "It's Gabe."

Billy inquires, "Who?"

Justin explains, "Someone Mary knows. This and the penny, 1972, confirms that she was here and with Raf and Gabe. Maybe Dan and Nevan were here, too."

Looking at the penny and the fortune, I chuckle. "That's Raf in a nutshell."

Hubie asks, "What?"

"The fortune. 'The strangest, most generous, and proudest of all virtues is true courage.' He probably thought that the fortune was a message from the universe. Despite everything, he was so hopeful, stupidly hopeful. He believed in lucky pennies and that random things, like lyrics from a song that just happened to come on the radio and fortunes in fortune cookies, could be profoundly meaningful."

I shake my head. "But from this wreckage, it seems clear that the penny didn't do him much good."

Justin had been observing me carefully, a sad expression on his face. Suddenly, he takes my hand and squeezes it. "But the fact that we're together and here to find the penny…the fact that the penny and the drawing somehow survived the fire…that has to mean something. And that makes me hopeful."

I can't help but smile softly. Then I lean in and whisper, "Well, the trip was phenomenal."

I can feel Justin smiling one of his million-watt smiles. Then he breathes, "That it was. That it was."


	18. Death and Sex

We're at a diner trying to figure out what to do next. We carefully examined the rest of the wreckage, but found no clues as to Mary's whereabouts or even who had been with her. Despite the fact that Billy and I warned him that doing so would be a waste of time, Justin, ever hopeful, knocked on every door on the street (about 16). Most people who were home peeked out from behind filthy curtains and declined to answer. The remaining few slammed the door in Justin's face without providing any information. On the way to find a restaurant, we happened to see a world news place, so we stopped, and I grabbed newspapers from Chicago and Pittsburgh. While Justin fills up on bacon, eggs, and pancakes, I'm sipping coffee and scanning the local sections for any news related to our escape. Two burly guys shot at us, and I was wounded. It was night, but guns make a lot of noise. You'd think someone would have called the cops. On top of that, we'd reported the waitress's murder. Surely, there'd be something about that in the paper.

Strangely, there was absolutely nothing about either. I'd gotten the Pittsburgh paper more out of habit than anything else, but I'm glad I did. As it turns out, that paper was the only one with anything of interest. The headline, albeit small (the article is about 5 sentences long), jumps out at me: "Lawyer killed in office. Police stumped." Apparently, the lawyer had no known enemies and was happily married. The lawyer, according to the article, was clearly murdered, but the cops found no clues as to the murderer and know of no one with motive to kill him. But I do. The lawyer in question is Alan Wells, the man I asked to look into Mary's whereabouts. He's also the person who investigated the sale of the Abbott Hotel and Stephen and Dennis's apparent deaths. Fuck. I got him killed. And…he hadn't shared anything with me since my first day in Chicago. So his death was pointless.

I sigh. Justin actually looks up from his breakfast, a concerned expression on his face, and asks, "Brian, what's wrong?" I say nothing, but push the paper toward him. After a few moments of studying the page, he zooms in on the article that peeked mu interest, inquiring, "Who was Alan Wells?"

I state simply, "My lawyer."

That gets Billy and Hubie's attention. They read the article in turn. Hubie asks softly, "Are you sure that his death is related to this, this situation?"

I nod slowly and sigh. "He became a lawyer because that was his parents dream for him. He always wanted to be a PI, so he dabbled in his free time. I asked him to investigate the hotel and, after we visited the Halsted Diner, Mary's whereabouts. A couple days later, he was found dead in his office."

Justin shakes his head and sighs. "Who is so opposed to our finding Mary and why?"

I shrug. "It seems clear that Mary was running, probably from the mob. That wreck of a house seems to indicate that the mob found her or came close to finding her. They either burned the house down to cover up her murder or as a warning…to let her know that they were close behind, to scare her. If they wanted something from her, maybe they offered to let her live if she gave it to them."

Scared and frustrated, Billy asks, "How the hell are we supposed to figure out where she went? All we have is conjecture. No solid clues."

Justin smiles unexpectedly. "Brian, if Gabe and Raf were here, maybe they visited the island."

My eyes widen. In different circumstances, I would have wanted to go back there with Justin. Even now, I'm excited by the prospect. I can't speak for the hustlers, but the trip we took that summer was the happiest part of my adolescence. And my young adulthood. I wouldn't have been surprised if they felt the same way.

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

*******

After the rain stops, we make a fire and turn on the battery-operated radio Taylor and I purchased before leaving the Pitts. It's completely dark now. Before we turned on the radio, all we could hear was crickets chirping, the occasional rustling of some nocturnal rodents in the brush, and the hooting of owls. Our portable drug store (Nevan) breaks out with the E, and soon we are tripping balls. We strip naked (even Gabe): The summer air is warm and fragrant, and the mud feels nice against our skin. We all start off dancing to the radio, to the Bangles' "Walk Like an Egyptian," Wang Chung's "Everybody Have Fun Tonight," the Whispers' "Rock Steady," Expose's "Point of No Return," Samantha Fox's "Touch Me," the Pet Shop Boys' "West End Girls," Janet Jackson's "Nasty," etc. But we eventually end up rolling around in the mud. It begins innocent enough…a few adolescent boys tackling each other and throwing mud balls, but soon, there's kissing and groping…before I know it, we're all lying in the mud jerking each other off. There's no intercouple touching though. We're tripping, but, if anything, the E just enhances our emotional attachments. Course, I'd be lying if I said that the voyeuristic element wasn't an extra turn on. Afterward, we take a little moonlight swim to wash off the mud. A little while later, we're on the grass in the least muddy area, beneath the canopy of a huge oak through which we can see the stars twinkling, fucking each other's brains out (well, except Gabe. He still can't handle fucking Raf). You'd think we'd want privacy, but we're all getting off on the naughtiness of sneaking peeks at other couples. When we're all too sated and exhausted to get it up again, we dress, return to the fire, and snuggle with our partners in front of it. It might be jumping ahead to call Dan and Nevan partners, but they fuck each other, whatever that means. When the fire begins to burn down, Dan, Gabe, and Taylor volunteer to get more wood. A minute or two after they take off in search of fallen branches, I blurt out, "I'm afraid Taylor's going to leave. One day, he'll just be gone, and I don't think anything I do or say will bring him back to me."

After a brief silence, Raf confesses, "I'm afraid that Gabe and I will never be able to make love without him flinching and trembling, without seeing fear in his eyes."

After another brief silence, Nevan admits, "I'm afraid Dan will never like me as much as he liked Sam. That he'll always wish Sam hadn't done what he did, that he was still here."

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Then Taylor, Gabe, and Dan return.

TBC…

Next time…

"_Oh God, Brian! The boat's gone!"_

_Billy hushes us and points. Three figures are moving amongst the trees. Toward us. _


	19. The Best Day

Today has to be the best day in the world. Granted…I say that every morning I wake up next to Taylor…but still, I think today is the best day (so far anyway). Stephen and his ogling (of Taylor) and mocking (of me) are 300 miles behind us. Sam's gone, along with his ogling (of Taylor) and general jerkiness. I probably sound like an asshole. I mean, what he did to Gabe was horrible and wrong, and Dan deserves more than Sam would ever have given him. But mostly, I'm just glad he's gone because he wouldn't stop staring at Taylor. Of course, I don't think Taylor would have touched him (or anyone else, for that matter) with a ten-foot pole, but still…With him and me looking similar, it's better that he's gone. Speaking of…Taylor's sleeping on me. His head on my chest, and one arm slung around my waist. Or he was. Fuck. Now he's on top of me, grinding his erection against mine, though his eyes are still closed. Fuck. Sounds nuts, but this kid really intoxicates me. I get drunk kissing him, touching him, and especially being inside him. Oh God. He slid down my body, and he's now got my dick in his hand. And oh Fuck! In his mouth. I didn't even mention how drunk I feel when his mouth is wrapped around my dick. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Actually, everything we do together makes me feel more like I'm tripping. Every cell in my body awake and burning, melting. I moan, "Oh fuck, Taylor!" as my dick explodes in his mouth. Yes, today is the best day in the world. Hands down.

That (my moaning) wakes Dan, Nevan, Gabe, and Raf, although I'm not really aware of them until Taylor's cumming down my throat. They think it's funny to hoot and holler. Nevan's the worst: "Suck that dick!" Son of a bitch. I might be blushing (my body's hot all over, and not in a good way). I shoot Nevan my coldest glare. I'm gonna have to work on being more fierce. Then no one would make fun of me, no matter what I was doing. Then again, I doubt I'll be doing much sucking and riding dick when Taylor is gone. Fuck. There goes my perfect morning (my chest aches now). Live in the moment, Kinney. You're good at that. You get good at that when your mom's an uberbitch and your dad likes to use you as a punching bag and drinks like a fish. From one moment to the next, you never know what will come. Will it be scathing criticism, a punch, or pretend kindness (for the benefit of neighbors and people at church)? You never know. Even at Deb's, that's kind of true. One minute she's hugging me…the next she's teasing me…and sometimes the teasing isn't really teasing. I don't think she likes the way Mikey looks at me. And follows me around like a puppy. Though he pretends he's not into me. That's life I guess. The only person I care about who's consistent is Taylor. I knew the second he looked at me that he wanted me, that he was falling for me. And every day since. I'm really gonna miss him when he's gone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck (I kind of feel like I'm gonna cry). Come on, Kinney. Live in the moment.

This moment is pretty good. The six of us are in the water, splashing each other. A few minutes after that, we're all drying in the sun. The grass is soft (not at all poke-y), and there's a gentle breeze. Smells like flowers. I bet Taylor could name them all. He's nerdy cool like that. Skin being warm after being so cold (in the water) feels incredible, but what makes it amazing is Taylor holding my hand. Our fingers are intertwined, and he's rubbing his thumb slowly, gently over the back of my hand. Shit! Now we're running for the trees. I didn't even realize Missouri got freak rain/thunderstorms. I know they get them in Georgia and Louisiana. Or so my mom said (that's where her 'people' are from, not that I've ever met any of them; Jack hates my mom's family). Now we're wet and cold again. Course…when Taylor starts dressing me, I no longer care. He looks so serious, biting his lip as he buttons and zips my pants and then buttons my shirt (I'm so glad I thought to bring a couple of long-sleeved shirts). Inspired, I dress Taylor when he finishes with me, kissing his neck as I pull up his jeans (I'm standing behind him). He really, really seems to like that. He's smiling (so bright) and resting his head on my shoulder. And he keeps kissing me on the lips while I'm (trying to) button up his shirt, causing me to laugh and then growl (which, in turn, causes his dick to harden, if his tenting jeans are any indication). His shirt…I should say my shirt. God, I love seeing him in my clothes, and I fucking love knowing my mom would keel over and die if she saw the shirt she gave me last Christmas on my gay lover. She picked a real pretty blue. It matches his eyes. I pull him behind the tree we were all standing under and swing behind him. I unzip his jeans and take his dick in my hand, jerking him off as I lick and suck on his neck. Can't give my boyfriend blue balls. That's just impolite. After, he whispers, "I love you, Brian." I whisper back, "I love you, too, Taylor." Fuck. More chest aching. More tears wanting to come out. But I swallow it all down. And just hold Taylor tighter.

A/N: I'm writing soo slow, as usual...so this is the first of three updates for Taylor. I'll try to post the other two before midnight eastern.


	20. How Raf Got His Name

A/N: Today was the crummiest day...so I'm feeling a bit off. I really hope this doesn't suck.

"Oy, oy! We are all bleeding idiots!"

We all turn to look at Nevan, who is pointing at a spot in the center of the island forest. But we don't look where he's pointing. We're staring at him.

He widens his eyes comically and nods slowly. "What?"

We burst out laughing. Brian gives voice to our question. "Um…what's up with the British slang? I thought you were Irish."

Nevan blinks. Then he replies, "I don't know about you, mate, but I'm American."

"Still not British..."

Nevan shrugs. "Just trying it on. Adding a little color to the linguistic repertoire. Is this better? (now mimicking a surfer) Hey, dudes, we're a buncha dickweeds! Check it out."

Brian, Dan, Gabe, and Raf laugh, and I smile, but I'm less interested in Nevan's floorshow than his intended audience. He keeps shooting sideways glances at Dan. I just want to hug Nevan. His outlandish behavior just screams, "Like me, like me, like me!"

Finally, finally, we look where he's pointing (everyone but Nevan beat me to it). In the center of the island forest is a cabin. It's not easy to see during the day. No wonder we missed it.

Then nodding and smiling broadly, Nevan adds, "Totally tubular!"

Brian mutters, "Dumbass," shoves Nevan gently, and walks past him, pulling me along by the hand. I kind of want to whisper to Nevan, warn him not to lay on the antics so thick, but everyone's so close, they'd all hear me. Nevan bows and flourishes. I shake my head and follow Brian. Raf, Gabe, Dan, and Nevan (in that order) trail behind us.

The cabin 'ain't much" (it's a glorified shed), but it has four walls, a roof, and a floor, and we can probably all lie down without being smushed together like sardines.

We're all thinking the same thing. This is confirmed when Brian, again, gives voice to our mutual thought. "You wanna wait out the storm here?"

We do, indeed. We run back to the makeshift shelter for our packs and set about making ourselves comfortable, again laying out our jackets and clothes for padding. We break out the banana nut bread Mary made us and a two liter of cola we'd bought the day before. I'm sitting in between Brian's legs, leaning back on his chest, Raf and Gabe are laying on their chests side by side, and Dan and Nevan are sitting cross-legged against one of the walls. For a few minutes, no one speaks. The only sound, besides the pouring rain and thunder, is popping plastic (from squeezing the two liter). Then Nevan pulls out a joint.

After the second go round, Brian asks, "So Raf, how did you and Gabe meet?"

Raf smiles. "Nevan and I got high in the park one night. Almost a year ago now. Gabe was laying on a bench, one of those under the lights, reading by it. I thought I'd seen an angel. An actual angel. With his porcelain skin, blond hair, and beautiful gray eyes. I did this dance-y walk up to him and smiled. He peeked up at me from behind his book, his eyes getting all wide. But then he smiled that shy smile of his." Raf picks up Gabe's hand then, caressing it gently. "I was lost. Especially after he whispered, 'Raf.' Like it was the most beautiful word in the world. And it was. Coming from his lips, it was."

Gabe smiles one of the aforementioned shy smiles and even giggles. His tolerance must be very low. Then softly, he interjects, "That's not how we met."

Raf turns to look at him, his brow furrowed. "What?"

"You protected me."

Raf's eyes are as wide as saucers now. "I don't understand."

"My first night in the park. I…I'd just left home. I was cold and scared, kind of wandering. I wasn't looking where I was going, and I bumped into you. You grabbed me by the shoulders, kept me from falling. You smiled…and then you kissed me."

"What?"

Gabe blushed and looked down. "You asked me to come home with you. So we went to Mary's. It was really late. Everyone was asleep. The bars were all closed. You took me up to your room."

"How can I not remember this?"

"You were real drunk. You kept running ahead and spinning and then running back as we walked. We stripped and got into bed. You kissed me again. But then you just held me. You fell asleep after just a couple of minutes."

"I would've remembered waking up with you in my arms…"

"I woke up when it got light…I felt uncomfortable, so I left. But you kept me safe and warm…and you gave me someone to think about…you know when…so I named you Raf, like the angel."

TBC…soon


	21. Playing Chicken

A/N: Sorry I didn't move the plot along in the last few chapters...I kind of wanted the boys to bond more, and I desperately needed to write some fluff...Next week, more exciting things will happen.

Raf asks, his voice nearly a whisper, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Gabe shakes his head (still looking down) and shrugs. Raf sits up and pulls on Gabe's hand. He's smiling so brightly. "Come here."

Gabe manages to avoid Raf's eyes as he crawls into his lap, straddling him and burying his face in his neck. Raf just holds Gabe for a couple of minutes. Then Gabe moves to sit sideways on Raf's lap. We're all pretty high at this point, so we just watch. I don't think any of us realize how long it's been until Raf asks, "So Brian, how did you and Taylor meet?"

Brian kisses my neck softly (brushing his lips against the part of my neck just below my hairline and then placing a lingering open-mouthed kiss there) and takes my hand, threading our fingers together. He rubs my leg with the other. I fucking love being high with Brian; in all incarnations, pot makes him more physically expressive. That's one of the reasons I know Brian loves me back in the present. When Brian-Fucking-Kinney spends hours just touching your body, how can you not know what you mean to him? I'm so absorbed in my memories (of our future) that I reply, "On a street corner" just as Brian replies, "At a slumber party."

I close my eyes tight, inwardly kicking myself.

Nevan laughs, a long warm laugh. "Which is it?"

I look back at Brian and shake my head. "I'm sorry; I was just thinking that our first meeting story wasn't very romantic…" I silently will him: Please believe me; please believe me.

But, turns out, I'm worried about nothing. Brian chuckles. "You think meeting on a street corner is more romantic than meeting at a slumber party?"

I shrug and smile weakly.

"It doesn't really matter where two people meet. What makes it romantic is what they say to each other."

I smile. "That's true…"

Brian holds my hand tighter and teases (I assume he's teasing; amusement is bubbling up through his voice), "Should I tell them what you said to me?"

I look back at him again. "Do you remember?"

"It was only a few days ago. I'm not _that_ much of a stoner."

Nevan interjects merrily, "I am!"

That makes everyone but me and Brian laugh. We're still looking at each other. I feel like we're playing chicken. I swallow hard. Then I (try to) tease, "If you do…I'd have to tell them what you said to me."

Brian tilts his head in acknowledgment.

"You sooo don't want me to tell them!" I shake my head in incredulity, though my voice is light, playful.

Brian smiles his Mona Lisa half-smile, daring me. Maybe he just wants to see whether I really remember.

My face is a furious red at this point. I'm actually kind of embarrassed by what I said to Brian (and embarrassed on Brian's behalf about what he said to me). Older Brian would rather shave his head (or donate a kidney) than make such an admission. Until now, I didn't realize how much I picked up from him. Mel called me a 'disciple of Brian,' and I guess she was right (at least partially). But I'm still me. So I take another hit off the joint, which is so tiny now I can barely hold it, and I say, "After you."

"Taylor said…"

I turn back to Raf, Gabe, Nevan, and Dan, but, after a quick look around, I hide my face behind my hand. Brian squeezes me tighter, and, then, against my skin (the warm puffs of his breath sending delicious shivers down my spine), he repeats (slowly), "Taylor said, 'You are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and, as long as I live, I know that I'll never see anyone as beautiful as you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone, and I know that that won't change. Whomever I may be with over the years, I'll never desire anyone the way I desire you.'"

Now my face is buried in both my hands, and my face is scarlet (it has to be; it, and the rest of my body, feels like it's on fire). I peek at Raf, Gabe, Dan, and Nevan through the space between two fingers.

Raf says, "Awww!!!" and Gabe smiles. But Nevan and Dan start giggling. Fuckers. I'm so glad my humiliation is a bonding moment for them. Through giggles (he's giggling so hard he can barely speak), Nevan says, "That's…so…lame!"

Brian nudges my back. In an excited voice, he urges, "Do me now."

I remove my head from my hands and look back at him. First, I grin and waggle my eyebrows. "_Do_ you?"

Brian sighs, but he smiles, too. "What are you, twelve? You know what I mean."

I ask, my voice solemn now, "Are you sure you want me to?"

Brian looks at me with that half-amused, half-I-don't-give-a-fuck expression older Brian does so well, though his eyes sparkle. He really wants me to do this. I turn to face Raf, Gabe, Dan, and Nevan, who are now looking at me expectantly, and, in a whisper, I say, "Brian said, 'When I saw you, when you smiled at me, I thought that maybe this was what it was like to fall in love.'" My voice breaks a little on 'fall in love.' Then to Brian, I say, "I'm not telling them the rest. That's nobody's business but ours."

This time, Nevan and Dan don't laugh, Raf doesn't "Awww," and Gabe doesn't smile. They all just stare. Finally, after an unbearably long, long moment of silence, Gabe (oddly) speaks, putting into words what I can see in everyone's eyes. "Wow…"

Brian just kisses my neck and holds my hand tighter.

I glance at Dan and Nevan expectantly, opening my mouth to speak, but I freeze when I see the expressions on their faces. Dan looks startled, and paler than usual, and Nevan shakes his head frantically, his eyes wide with…is that fear?

TBC…


	22. Visions, Love is fear

A/N: I'm trying to get back to writing every day...but it'll probably take me a while to get back in stride.

**Chapter 28D: Visions**

Dan breathes, "What the?"

Nevan glances over at Brian and me and then back at the door. I follow his gaze, but see nothing. Nevan closes his eyes, opens them, and then blinks a few times. "How can you be here and…"

Before Nevan can finish, Dan cuts him off with a wave of his hand. He cocks his head. "Do you hear that?"

Brian looks at me. I shrug. All I can hear is the rain drumming on the roof and the gentle sliding of rubber on wood. Gabe nervously shuffling his feet.

Nevan freezes. "Yeah…but it's muffled. Like someone's talking in another room."

Brian frowns. Gabe shivers and crosses his arms, placing his hands on his shoulders and rubbing them slowly. Raf tries to laugh his warm, merry laugh, but it comes out wrong. Nervous, edgy. He clears his throat and tries again. Not a laugh. A dismissal. "Man, you smoke too much!" Gabe smiles a little, with a "Hunh," and lets his hands fall to his elbows.

Brian's still frowning, staring at Nevan and Dan.

Nevan shakes his head. "Naw. I mean, yeah, but this isn't the pot. And what about Dan? I…wait..."

We all look at Nevan expectantly, even Dan.

Suddenly Nevan yells, "Fuck, dude, run! Then he jumps to his feet and clambers to the door. He swings it open with such force that the door knob knocks against the wall. Three times. We watch incredulously as he runs outside (maybe ten feet) and then stops.

Nevan's staring out at the water, the rain coming down in sheets. In a matter of seconds, he's drenched.

We all stand and shuffle toward the door.

Nevan's running his fingers through his rain slick hair and scanning the shore. "I don't…The boat! Fuck! Where's the boat?"

I swallow hard and step out into the rain. Brian grabs at my hand, but not hard. My fingers slide through his. I wipe some of the rain off my face, push my hair off my forehead, and quicken my pace.

When I reach Nevan, I grab him and turn him clockwise. Then I point. "It's right over there. Just where we left it."

Nevan shakes his head. "No, no." He turns back toward the cabin, but looks beyond it. "Shit, they're coming! They're coming."

I follow the line of his gaze, but see nothing. Just swaying trees. I squeeze Nevan's shoulder. "Nobody's coming. Seriously. It's just the six of us here."

"No…I…" Nevan looks around frantically. Then he stops and blinks a few times, his mouth open, gaping. He glances back at the water and then at me. For the first time since his episode or whatever began, he seems to really see me. "But I thought…"

Nevan's interrupted by a yell. Coming from the cabin. We run over to find Brian, Raf, and Gabe standing over Dan, who's on the floor, kneeling. He reaches his hand down slow and lets it hang a few inches above the floor. He pats the air. He chokes out, "Taylor, Taylor's dead." Then he looks up. But he doesn't appear to see us. His eyes grow wide. He whispers, "Sam?"

******Chapter 28E: Love is fear**

Suddenly terrified.

That's me.

All I can hear is breathing (Taylor's … I can't explain what it is that I recognize … but I know what his breathing sounds like), rain (now pounding down … on the roof … on the still open door), the wind whipping, whistling, through the trees, and wood groaning, creaking, beneath some undefined heaviness… I'm not sure whether it's the wind making the cabin sway or … just me.

Me barely able to stand. Fuck, I can barely breathe. My chest aches, and there's a cold lump in the pit of my stomach.

Fucking Nevan.

Fucking Dan.

Especially Dan.

This has to be the pot. Or traces of ecstasy still in their systems.

It has to be.

I wish I could say the same for me…that my fear was a response to the pot. Or the ecstasy. But I'm suddenly sober. And sweating. Shivering.

I fucking hate this. I don't like being so … I don't know … weak, I guess.

My dad would shove me in the chest (hard) and tell me to quit being such a pansy.

Maybe worse.

According to him, feelings are for girls. Especially fear. Well, and love.

In this moment, I can't blame him. I want this to stop. I need it to.

I don't want to miss Taylor when he's gone. I don't want to worry that he'll meet someone he likes better (loves deeper). I don't want to be afraid that something bad will happen to him (trying so hard to ignore the word reverberating through my head).

It doesn't exist.

Can't happen.

I swallow hard.

But that's the flip side of love, right? Sadness, jealousy, and fear. Maybe it would be better to take what I can from people, whatever makes me happy, and leave the rest. I'd give almost anything to make these feelings disappear. Almost being the operative word.

But I can't. Not with Taylor. It's not even a choice. I could no more stop (another hard swallow) loving him than I can stop trembling, aching…than I can stop wanting to grab Dan by the collar, shove him up against the nearest wall, and demand answers. Force him to make sense.

In fact, that's exactly what I do. Before I can think too much about what this will or won't achieve, I grab him by the shoulder, pulling him up to a standing position, and then push him up against the left wall. Dan looks at me with wide eyes and lets out an "ooph" when his back hits wood.

I turn all my fear into anger, put it into the cold darkness of my stare, and hiss, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Until then, everyone had (like me) been frozen. Staring. But now there's a gasp (probably Gabe). more creaking, and the shuffling of feet. Nevan yelling, "What the hell?"

And then … a gentle touch. Taylor's hands sliding around my waist. Pulling me away. Slow. And a whisper. He says, "Come on," but what he means is "I'm here."

"I'm here."

So I let go. But I don't say I'm sorry (I'm not). I do, however, raise my hands in surrender and let Taylor draw me back to the center of the room. Walking backwards is weird. I trip on someone's coat. But Taylor catches me, holding me tighter against him, and laughs. That fucking musical laugh of his. And warm. Warmer than Raf's. Pure sunshine.

Now Nevan's by Dan's side, rubbing his shoulder, asking what he saw … if he's okay… Raf and Gabe are nearby, watching attentively, Gabe rubbing his right wrist with his left hand, Raf's hand automatically straying to Gabe's lower back.

But for the moment, I'm … I don't know.

Just here.

Just being.

Taylor's laugh is still ringing in my ears…and I can feel the warmth of his hands on my stomach (even through my clothes)…his arms tight (so tight) around me..his chest rising and falling against my back, his breath tickling my neck.

And I just am.

Trying with everything inside me to hold onto this moment, to stretch it out, far, so far, to pull the sense impressions in, deep, so deep, that it lasts … they last … forever.

*******

It's night when Billy, Hubie, Justin, and I make it to the middle of the lake.

I'm sweating, but not from rowing (Justin rolled his eyes and laughed when I picked up one of the oars). No. I'm sweating from all the crouching, running, and dragging (the boat). I'm mildly uncomfortable (with the sweating and my achy arm), but there's a nice breeze, and the sound of the oars sliding through the water is relaxing, almost hypnotic. I kiss Justin's forehead. I can't help it. Revisiting old haunts makes me profoundly grateful. I don't have to worry about losing Justin/Taylor. Not anymore.

Next time (seriously :) )

"Oh God, Brian! The boat's gone!"

Billy hushes us and points. Three figures are moving amongst the trees. Toward us.

TBC...


	23. Nexus

Once we reach the shore, we pull the boat up onto the grass and head toward the cabin. We can't see it from here, but Brian and I remember the way. It's such a relief to be away from Chicago, steeped as it is in loss and fear … with Stephen and Dennis's hotel and Mary's restaurant under new ownership, Mafia guys chasing and shooting at us, and people dying. But here, now, fireflies light our path, and crickets chirp. Everything is as it was. Even the cabin. Brian seems as caught up in memories as I am. He actually smiles. "I can't believe the cabin's still here. It was about ready to fall down last time." Brian opens the door and walks in. "I remember it being bigger though."

I giggle and bump Brian's shoulder with mine. "You were just shorter."

Brian laughs and bumps me back.

Billy pipes up, "What are you two babbling about?"

…..

A tall man dressed in a black Italian suit carrying a briefcase walks through a rickety door and onto the roof of an apartment building. He walks to the edge and kicks a red-breasted pigeon wandering near the edge. It flaps its wings, flying upward, and coo-coos, finally resting in one of many square holes lining a large vent to the man's left. The man kneels on the black tar, sets the briefcase down, and opens it. One by one, he pulls out five black metal pieces, stock, forestock, barrel, scope, and tripod, screwing each together in turn. The man shoves the briefcase aside, sending two curious blue-breasted pigeons skittering away, positions the rifle toward a house on the street below, and lays down in front of it. He closes one eye, looks through the scope with the other, and adjusts the rifle until it's directed toward a big window at the front of the house. He can see the living room through to the kitchen. Then he waits.

He wipes his brow and frowns. His work is never done. His enforcer days long behind him, he shouldn't be here. But the task he set himself over a decade ago, the guiding force of his life, the reason for everything, couldn't be left to an underling. No one could know. Telling even one person would render what he'd already done, what he'd spent his entire adult life doing, the sacrifices he'd made, pointless.

A man driving a Bentley pulls into the driveway opposite the apartment building and then into the garage. The man on the roof sighs. He almost feels bad. A doctor in the prime of his life. He's worked so hard to establish himself in the medical profession that he hasn't had time to marry and have kids. And now he never would. Oh well. Some things were more important than the life of one man.

The doctor enters his house through the door off the kitchen (leading from the garage inside), tosses his keys on the counter, and then looks through some mail the maid placed on the kitchen table. The man on the roof squeezes the trigger, just once, and even gently, but that's all that's required. A bullet whizzes through the air, pierces the front window, and continues on until it's lodged in the doctor's jugular. The doctor freezes, makes a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood from his neck, and then collapses onto the floor.

The phone rings. Once. Twice. By the fourth ring, the shooter's exiting the building. And by the sixth, he's speeding down the road in his Lincoln. Next stop, O'Hare International.

…..

We're all back where we were when Dan and Nevan starting seeing shit. The rain stopped, and the wind died down. It's suddenly very quiet. Dan's embarrassed and contrite. "Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you guys out. I guess I'm just really high. I thought I saw … never mind. It's nuts."

Raf and even Gabe are smiling now. Relaxed. Now everything makes sense. It was all just a bad reaction to drugs. Nevan raises his arm and nods toward the remaining muffins. Raf shakes his head and tosses Nevan one. Then he asks, "Where'd you get that shit anyway?"

Nevan shrugs. "Joe. Same as always."

But I'm not relaxed. Or content with the explanation. I stand up and walk outside. Taylor follows me. He stands real close behind me and then slips his hand into mine. I thread our fingers together. "We should leave."

"What? Why?"

I turn and look at Taylor. I don't say anything. Just hold his eyes with mine.

Taylor sighs. "He was just high and scared. Paranoid. He just learned Sam's secret and that combined with his imagination and the pot, making Sam seem like a real danger. Getting guys to attack Gabe is douchey and criminal, but it's hardly murder. Plus, after the way Raf threatened him, I doubt he'd come back."

I turn away again, looking at the water. "Why take a chance?"

"Why give his paranoid delusions power by feeding into them? Changing our plans because of them?"

I sigh and drop my head.

"Let's just wait until the morning. I like it here. It's pretty…and we have our own cabin."

I turn back toward Taylor, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. My chest aches again, but now for a different reason. I'm literally in awe of him. "How did you get so brave?"

Taylor whispers, "It was all you, Brian. All you."

My eyes widen, and I gape a little. "What?

Taylor shakes his head and laughs. "Umm … I just mean that being around you makes me feel … I don't know … like anything is possible. Like we're invincible."

I shake my head and pull Taylor closer. In a husky whisper, I reply, "No one's invincible."

Taylor kisses me on the lips and then thrusts his tongue into my mouth. A moment later, he pulls away, laughs, and says, "Come on, grandma. Let's fuck."

…..

He should've taken Brian out years ago. But after Taylor disappeared, Brian had no interest in Dan, Nevan, Raf, or Gabe or Chicago for that matter. He hadn't been back. Not for 13 years. If not then, he should've taken Brian out last week. The second he set foot in O'Hare. But something stopped him. Nostalgia maybe. He didn't know. But he hesitated.

And then the unimaginable happened. Brian approached the hotel room door, and it opened to reveal …

Taylor.

And he hadn't aged a day.

TBC…

Next time for sure (sorry I didn't get to it in this part)

"_Oh God, Brian! The boat's gone!"_

_Billy hushes us and points. Three figures are moving amongst the trees. Toward us. _


	24. Discovered?

"Mr. Rotto wants to see you."

The man driving the Lincoln slows to a stop at a red light and sighs. "I'm on the job."

"You know as well as I do that Mr. Rotto doesn't make requests."

"Yeah. Okay. I'll be there in ten minutes."

The man presses end and tosses his cell phone on the passenger seat. After another heavy sigh, he does a U-turn and heads back toward Boystown.

…

The moon is almost bright enough to see inside the cabin (with the door open). But not quite. We brought flashlights, but once I spotted the lantern, I discarded mine, lit the lantern, and hung it on a metal hook (maybe five inches from screwed in part to hook) on the wall. Now the cabin is bathed in a warm orange glow.

I stand in the doorway … warm orange glow on one side and floating points of orange and blue light, crickets chirping, and the moonlight on the other. I don't want to leave. And only partly because people are hunting us on the mainland.

The lantern's new. It sure would have been handy the last time Brian and I were here. As is a cot (placed along the back wall) complete with sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. Someone's been spending time here. And whoever it is reads Kafka and Ellison. My first thought is Gabe. The night we had dinner at Mary's he was reading _The Invisible Man_.

Hubie and Billy are outside (by the water). Billy's leaning against Hubie (Hubie has his arm around Billy, and his face nuzzled in Billy's neck). I guess the ambiance is affecting them, too.

Brian flips through the books (they're in the back left corner on the floor) a foot or two from the bed, and I walk over to the cot and sit down. The bed's made. I run my hand against the blanket. It's soft. I stare at it, lost in thought. It's a striped afghan (pale green, light orange, white, and brown). I've seen it somewhere before. Not at Mary's though. I rack my brain, but can't place it.

Out of the blue, Brian says, "Bingo."

That's when it comes to me. I saw the afghan at the Abbott. In Dennis and Stephen's room. Hmmm.

Why would Gabe (and possibly Raf) have Dennis and Stephen's afghan? Maybe it's not the same one. I examine it more closely. I stand up and pull it off the bed … looking for something. Something that would tell me if it's handmade. A tag, maybe. Do storebought afghans have tags? I don't even know.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't hear Brian's revelation. What brings me out of my head is … well, pain.

Brian pinches my ring-less nipple. Hard. So hard in fact that I yelp. But my cock twitches, too. (I'm seriously fucked up).

Then I laugh. "What the fuck?"

Brian shakes his head. His eyes are wide (like they get sometimes when he's annoyed). "Don't you want to know what I found?"

"Oh … yeah."

"A couple of pictures. They were in one of the books."

He hands them to me. They're both Polaroids. One is of a kid giving some older guy head. Neither looks familiar. The kid's wearing jeans and a red T-shirt, and the older guy a white button down shirt and a blue suit jacket. Can't see his pants. Probably pooled at his feet. The second photo is actually a shot of the same thing only from a different angle. Someone's behind the older guy. Fucking him while he's getting head. Can't see his face (it's buried in the older guy's neck), but he's bare to the waist. And a bear. Huge and hairy. Hmmm. I look at both photos side by side. Looking for a detail that would date them. I got nothing.

I look back up at Brian. He's grinning.

I laugh. "What?"

"Look at the background."

Can't see much of anything besides parts of bodies. I lean closer and squint. Two minutes of staring gets me nothing. It's dark. I can't make anything out (except bodies and faces). The rest is indecipherable darkness.

Brian laughs. "First picture, middle right."

I focus on that part. It has a little light (and color). I thought it was part of the kid's T-shirt, but it's not. It looks like letters. Fuzzy and run together. I can't read them.

Brian's eyes dance. "L-E-T-O-H."

"L-E-T-O-H?" A moment later, I jump. "Hotel reflected in a mirror?"

Brian nods. "And in red lights."

"Oh…you think it's the Abbot?"

Brian nods. "The T and the E aren't lit."

"Oh yeah…the 'hotel' on the awning."

Brian nods again. "Must have been reflected in a side view mirror."

I laugh and shake my head incredulously. "I can't believe you noticed that!"

Brian raises an eyebrow.

I huff and mutter, "Arrogant asshole."

"So we know where these were taken … but not when."

Brian nods. "I was hoping the jacket would give me a clue. But they're a dime a dozen and a style that's been common for a decade."

…

A summons from Mr. Rotto is like being called to the principal's office. Well, if the principal's a psychopath. The man in the Lincoln hadn't been summoned in years (the one time he missed … in his defense, no one else would have been able to make that shot). He was lucky to get out with all his fingers and toes (well, and his life). This couldn't be good. Had Mr. Rotto discovered his secret? The man had been so careful. No one could know. But if he'd messed up … Mr. Rotto would kill him personal … and slow. No one, no one, disobeys a direct order and lives. Not even Mr. Rotto's brother managed that.

The man mutters, "Fuck, fuck, fuck …" Punctuating each word with a punch to the steering wheel. He needs to get to St. Louis and fast. If Mr. Rotto doesn't know already, he will soon. If his men get their hands on Brian and Taylor (and they are trying, albeit ineptly so far), it would only be a matter of time. The first domino to fall.

He was lucky he'd managed to kill that waitress. Just not lucky enough to do so before Brian arrived. Or to kill Brian and Taylor before Mr. Rotto's men showed up.

Should he assume the worst and run?

No.

No.

The man sighs.

People, one person in particular, depend on his being able to keep this secret.

No.

As always, the only way out is through.

…

It's late, and we're tired. We decide to stay the night in the cabin (that way, in the morning, we can check out the woods surrounding the cabin for more clues and take a second look at the stuff inside the cabin). Billy and Hubie take the cot, and Brian and I take the pillow and blanket and sleep on the floor. Despite his injured arm, Brian thinks sleeping on the floor is safer ... I do kick sometimes, and the cot's not very wide. He doesn't want to end up falling onto the floor. I snuggle up on Brian's good side. We use our jackets for extra padding, but Brian still grumbles (even though he picked the floor) … well until I slide down, relieve him of his jeans, which surely must have been chafing him, and start sucking his dick (Brian fucked any sense of shame I had out of me months ago).

I wake up sore. And I have to piss like a race horse. I stumble outside (I'm half asleep and it's still dark out), pull my jeans down and start pissing, my dick in one hand, rubbing my eyes with the other. It's not until I pull my jeans up (and I can see properly) that I notice something is missing.

I run back into the cabin and start shaking Brian awake. In an urgent whisper, I say, "Oh God, Brian! The boat's gone!"

"What?"

"Come see for yourself."

I run back outside, where we pulled the boat up onto the shore. By now, Billy and Hubie are awake, too, and standing next to Brian. The three of them are in various states of undress.

Brian brushes a hand through his hair. "What the fuck?" My reaction exactly.

"Lakes don't have tides big enough to…"

Billy hushes us (saying, "Shush" and waving his hand) and points. Three figures are moving amongst the trees. Toward us.

TBC…


End file.
