


Criminal Consent?

by Annymc



Category: Queer as Folk
Genre: Angst, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2014-01-24 20:29:06
Rating: M
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,393
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9885717/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/203907/Annymc
Summary: AU Season 1 – A 'what if' story. What if the legal age of consent in Pennsylvania was 18, not 16?





	Criminal Consent?

Title: Criminal Consent?

Pairing: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor

Rating: NC-17 (descriptive sexual situations, language)

Warnings: underage (but not really)

Summary: AU Season 1 – A 'what if' story. What if the legal age of consent in Pennsylvania was 18, not 16?

Author's Note 1: There's discussion of underage consent, and other issues discussed that do not necessarily reflect my (the author's) actual views on the subjects. Age of consent and maturity are a complex issue. This merely explores how I believe Justin and Brian might react to this situation.

Author's Note 2: The characters in this story are canon aged for season one, which is not illegal in any way, shape, or form. The story asks what would have been different if in the QAF universe the age of consent was changed by two years. If underage relationships are not something you want to deal with then you've been warmed. No sexual relations happen in the story between a minor and an adult, but past relations are discussed.

Brian dries off after his shower, tugging on soft faded jeans, and a black tank, no underwear. There's no reason to get all dressed up for his planned night in. It's Sunday, and the only thing he has on the agenda tonight is Thai food and Justin. The little shit is coming over for the evening. He'd begged and begged until Brian relented and agreed to help him study for his upcoming SATs. Staring at himself in the mirror, he runs his fingers through his hair, casually ruffling the front, and making a face at himself. Still fuckable, even at almost-30, but also not trying too hard. Perfect. The phone ringing near the bed has him flopping down across the mattress to answer it.

"Hello?" he asks.

"Don't freak out, ok?" Justin's voice is strained. Brian sits back up immediately. This could go one of two ways. Either Justin is queening out over something teenager angsty, or something could actually be wrong. Brian's fairly sure it's going to be the first option. Turns out he has guessed incorrectly.

"Justin. What the fuck?" he asks. An audible deep breath.

"My Dad has completely lost it this time, Brian! My mom just called me. I can't believe he's doing this. But I knew I had to call you ASAP!" Justin says rapid fire over the line. Brian's eyes close, his forehead, unfortunately, creasing.

"Justin," he says sharply. The rambling stops.

"My mom called. She says he's gone to the cops. He's saying you statutory raped me! The cops could be there any minute…" Justin says softly.

"FUCK!" Brian says.

"Brian?" Justin says over the line.

"FUCKING CHRIST!" Brian says. He climbs to his feet.

"I'm so sorry! Brian, you have to believe that!" Justin pleads. Brian stands in the middle of his bedroom and breathes for a minute.

"This isn't you. This is your asshole father. FUCK! Tell me everything you know!" he demands. Then he starts sweeping the loft while Justin talks. The cleaning service had come through that day while he'd been at work. Everything was freshly shined and scrubbed. The laundry shipped off and probably already done and ready to be returned the next afternoon. The bed sheets were Downy fresh, the trash cans emptied. The shower was scrubbed clean, well except for his recent solo shower. So no harm there. Justin stops talking.

"Brian? What are you doing?" he asks. Brian fights the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm checking the apartment for incriminating evidence. We've fucked in a lot of places, Sunshine," Brian says.

"Did you check the chaise?" Justin asks. Brian sprints across the apartment, but even the black leather of the chair looks freshly decontaminated. His cleaning service really is thorough. He should tip them more.

"Yep, show room new," he says, sinking down on the couch.

"Fuck what about the recreational drugs?" Justin asks. Brian leaps back up off the couch, and starts collecting shit. "Fuck where are you going to hide that stuff, Brian? They could be there any minute!?"

"Don't worry about it. Where are you?" he asks. Justin sighs.

"Deb and Vic's. I was getting ready to come over when she called. I don't suppose it's a good idea now though, huh?" he tries to laugh but it sounds sort of broken.

"Not so much. Look, Justin they're going to question you," he says, even as he starts to various illegal substances in a take-out bag. He stops and cleans all the poppers out of the fridge. "Don't say anything," he warns. Justin scoffs.

"I'm going to say plenty!" Justin replies. Brian resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"No. You're going to keep your goddamn mouth shut. Going on a crusade about how you're old enough to make your own decisions is not going to help either of us, Justin. You keep your mouth shut and you let my lawyer handle this. Got it!?" he asks. Justin's breath hitches in his chest.

"This is completely un-fucking fair!" Justin says between gritted teeth.

"I know! But the world isn't fair, Sunshine. You should be aware of that by now," Brian replies. He heads for the far window, and unlocks it. Leaning out, he drops the bag under the window, watching it fall to rest on the metal grate of the fire escape, glad he'd found a black shopping bag. It's hardly noticeable. Closing and relocking the window. "Just stay calm. If they question you, say nothing. Don't rise to the bait. And ask for a child advocate. Tell them you don't want anyone your parents are paying for, because you don't trust them. Tell them you don't want to talk without speaking to a lawyer first. I'll see if Mel knows someone."

"Can't I just use, Mel?" Justin asks. Brian snorts.

"No. Because hopefully I will be." Brian heads back across the loft stepping up into his bedroom. Crouching down he digs through his closet. If he's getting arrested he needs to be wearing shoes. And he should probably put on some underwear just to be safe. He finds his old running shoes, and pulls them on over a pair of socks, taking the time to strip off his jeans and put on a pair of underwear first. "I have to go. Just keep calm and don't answer any of their questions."

"Ok. I'm sorry, Brian," Justin's voice is quiet and remorseful.

"Sorry is bullshit," Brian says quietly and hangs up the phone. He takes a deep breath before dialing again. He sits down at his desk and boots up his computer to start clearing his browser history.

"Brian? I'm surprised to hear from you," Lindsay says in surprise. Brian smirks.

"Yeah, well I'm surprised to be calling. Is your wife available?"

"Mel? Why would you want to talk to Melanie?" Lindsay asks. Brian sighs.

"I'm sort of about to be arrested," he says. He hears her laugh.

"Brian!?" she says, like he's playing a prank.

"I'm serious. Justin's dad is claiming statutory rape. They should be here any minute," he says.

"Fuck me…" Lindsay whispers. Brian grins a little at the lack of decorum, but doesn't laugh. He hears her call for Melanie. A minute later, Mel's on the line.

"Arrested huh?" she asks. Brian sighs.

"Probably. Any minute now. Can you meet me at the station? If you won't take my case, I'll understand. If you can just handle tonight…" he trails off. She's silent a minute.

"His father called it in?" she asks. Brian nods.

"Yep, and apparently he's poker buddies with one of the big wigs down there. I'm expecting a pounding on the door any second. Will you come?"

"You couldn't make me come with a 9 inch dildo that vibrates and spins," she snorts. Brian stays silent, not in the mood. "Yes, I'll be there. Leaving now. Tell me you are smart enough to know to keep your fucking mouth shut until I get there. Nothing but your name, vital info, and the words 'I want my lawyer,' got it?" she prompts.

"Yes, Ms. Marcus. I got it. Justin's freaking out. I told him to keep his mouth shut. To not answer any questions and to ask for a child advocate. Not to trust who ever his father sends down there," he pauses. "This can't touch him," he says softly. He hears her moving around.

"We won't let it. He's a good kid, Brian. That was good thinking. I'd represent him too, but that would be a conflict of interest. And it would make you look guiltier than you undoubtedly are." Brian grunts but doesn't respond. He shuts down his computer, and stands from the desk. He walks to the middle of his apartment, and shoves his free hand down the front pocket of his jeans. He doesn't know what to do now. There's nothing to do but wait. "Shit! The pot!" she says over the phone.

"I put it all in a bag. It's out on the fire escape. I should call Mikey and have him come get it for me later," he says pulling the hand free to run through his hair.

"Call him now. I'll call you back in two or three minutes when I get to the car. I want to be on the line when they get there if possible." Brian nods.

"Thanks, Mel," he says quietly.

"You're going to owe me so much for this, you fucking asshole," she hangs up but doesn't say goodbye. Brian puts his head back, and dials for a second time.

"Hey, Brian. What's up?" Michael asks.

"Mikey," he sighs. "I need you to do me a favor…" he says.

He spends the next few minutes explaining to Michael what is going on, reassuring him that everything is going to be alright, and then harassing him into coming to pick up his stash after the cops leave. He begs off a few minutes later. Just in time to receive Mel's call.

"You on your way?" he asks.

"Yes, Brian. I'm in the car headed there now. I'll be there before you are. Any sign of them yet?" she asks. He's staring out the window by then, and sees the two cop cars headed up his street.

"About to get here I believe. Two cruisers just pulled up out front."

"Ok, listen, Brian. Do not mouth off. Do not resist. I'm staying on the line to make sure they don't fuck it up. Just put the phone on speaker phone and set it on the counter. You might want to leave your cash at home, just to be on the safe side." She urges. Brian reaches for his wallet, yanking out the cash inside, he drops it in his desk drawer, pulling off his bracelet, he puts it away too. He's ready. For whatever is about to happen.

"I just put 200 cash and my bracelet in my desk drawer. It better fucking be there when I get home," he warns her. She's still laughing when the pounding on the door starts. Brian sets the phone to speaker sits it down on the counter, and goes to meet his fate.

Brian's never been booked before. Believe or not, he's made it all the way to (almost) 30 without being arrested. This was actually quite an accomplishment, as far as he is concerned. All the shit he's pulled in his life, the drinking and drugs, and public sex… he should have quite the track record, but he doesn't. Just a few speeding tickets. And who doesn't have a few of those. They send 4 guys to the loft to arrest him. They find him fully dressed, willing, and ready to go. They do a preliminary sweep of the loft, probably making sure he doesn't have underage boys stashed under the bed, or chained to the bathroom wall, before cuffing him, reading him his rights and taking him out. He insists on setting the alarm before they go. He's warned they're in the process of obtaining a search warrant for his residence and will be back later. Then he's being taken downstairs and shoved into a waiting police car. The whole thing is sort of anti-climactic and by the book. Brian carefully does not let on that he recognizes one of the beefier guys from the backroom of Babylon.

He's searched, photographed, and finger-printed, then left in a cell to wait. It's an hour before they take him to a room for questioning. He's not cuffed anymore, but he does make a show of rubbing his wrists where they've left faint red marks from the car ride over. The detective given the case seems hardened. But Brian supposes that makes sense. This is a sexual assault case involving a minor. He can only imagine the other cases the guy has dealt with recently.

"Your name is Brian Kinney, correct?" the man asks. Brian nods.

"Yes. And yours is?" he asks.

"Detective Roth. Are you aware of the accusations that have been filed against you?" Roth asks.

"Statutory Rape," Brian says. The man looks up from the file to meet his eyes.

"Actually in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania, the phrase is statutory sexual assault. You are accused of committing a second degree felony. By engaging in sexual intercourse with a minor under the age of 18, whom you are more than four years older than; you have committed statutory sexual assault." The man looks at Brian for a reaction.

"Well I can honestly say I'm glad rape has been dropped from the phrasing. It's such a nasty word," he replies. The man's eyes harden.

"You know a Justin Taylor, age 17?" the man asks.

"Yes. I know, Justin," Brian replies.

"And is Justin Taylor, age 17, your boyfriend?" Brian smirks.

"I really think I'd like my lawyer to be here for this conversation," Brian says leaning back in his chair.

"Of course, as soon as your lawyer gets here, they can join us. But for now," Brian cuts him off.

"My lawyer is here. Don't mess with me Roth about something like this. I called her before the cops even knocked on my door. She was on her way here before I'd been cuffed. She probably got here before I did. So I repeat: I want my lawyer here for this conversation." He closes his eyes tilting his head back. The discussion is over as far as he's concerned. He doesn't react when the detective stands up and leaves the room. He's back a few minutes later with Melanie.

"I'd like a few minutes alone with my client," she says. The door closes again. "Ok, how are you?" she asks. Brian opens his eyes and shrugs at her.

"I'm ok. Bored as fuck, but that can't really be helped. They weren't rude and I wasn't man-handled. I was a good boy and didn't even proposition anyone. When I asked for you he tried that lame ass bullshit about 'when she gets here, she can join us.'" He rolls his eyes. "I told him I knew you were here and I wasn't answering anymore questions, until I talked to you," she nods, sitting down beside him and pulling out a folder. She starts to flip through it.

"What questions did you answer?" she asks. Brian sits forward folding his hands together on the metal table.

"My name. And he asked me if I knew Justin Taylor, age 17. I said yes, I know Justin. When he asked if Justin was my boyfriend I said I wanted you," he explains. She blows out a huff of air.

"Be straight with me. Has anyone witnessed, in person, you and Justin doing anything that could get you into trouble?" she asks. Her phrasing is awkward.

"No," he replies.

"Is there any physical evidence at the loft?" she asks.

"No," he replies. 

"None?" she asks. He rolls his eyes.

"Cleaning agency came today," he answers shortly. She nods.

"I called Justin. He wants to deny anything happened. I told him lying wasn't the answer. To just keep his mouth shut. They can't compel him. There's no evidence to the contrary. You refuse to answer too and it's your word against his fathers. They won't convict you on that alone." He lets out a long breath. She leans closer and whispers in his ear. "You won't be able to touch him until after his birthday in March, you get that, right?" she asks. He stares straight ahead, his jaw working in aggravation, but he nods. "Good. Now we wait. You don't answer any questions without my say so." He nods again. This is her show now.

The detective knocks on the door a few minutes later and she gives him the ok to come in.

"Now that your lawyer is here, I have a few questions, Mr. Kinney. If you don't mind?" he asks.

"Fire away," he says. He turns to the side a little, angling so he can see Melanie in his periphery.

"You've already answered the first question but I will ask again with your lawyer present. Do you know Justin Taylor, age 17?" he asks. He sees Mel nod.

"Yes."

"Is Justin Taylor, age 17, your boyfriend?" another nod.

"No," he replies. The detective studies him more intently.

"Justin Taylor is not your boyfriend?" the man asks. Brian fights not to smirk.

"No. I don't have a boyfriend. I've never had a boyfriend," Brian answers. "I don't believe in relationships." Mel nudges him with her foot. He leans back in his chair.

"But you have had a sexual relationship with him?" the detective asks. Mel doesn't nod.

"I don't think I should answer that," Brian says.

"It's a simple question. Have you had a sexual relationship with Justin Taylor?"

"Sexual relationship… that can have so many different meanings," Mel nudges him with her foot again, harder this time.

"Have you had sexual intercourse with Justin Taylor?" the man asks, frowning.

"My client is refusing to answer that question. Move on," Mel says, pen moving across her notepad quickly.

"You are aware that Justin Taylor is under the age of consent for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania?" Mel nods.

"I am now, yes," Brian answers. "I was unaware of the age of consent until this evening."

"You were, however, aware that the victim is 17?" the detective asks. Brian frowns.

"Yes. I know that Justin is 17. Though I doubt he'd be too happy about you referring to him in anyway as a victim," Mel practically kicks him that time. He turns to look at her.

"When did you learn of his age?" the detective asks. Brian looks back at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Justin's?" he asks. The man frowns harder.

"Yes. Justin Taylor. When did you learn of his age?" the detective asks.

"The night I met him. He told me he was 20. But later admitted he was 17," Brian replies, it's not a lie.

"When was this?"

"September 17th."

"You remember the exact date?" the man asks.

"Yes. My son was born that night. His mother calling to tell me he'd been born interrupted us," he explains. "That's when he told me his real age," Brian confesses.

"What were you doing when you were interrupted?" the detective asks. Brian smirks.

"We weren't having sexual intercourse, if that's what you mean," Brian replies.

"What were you doing?"

"That's irrelevant to this investigation." Mel kicks his foot again. The detective frowns.

"These are serious allegations, Mr. Kinney. You would do well to cooperate." Brian looks to Melanie.

"Detective Roth, I understand you're doing your job, responding to a complaint by Justin Taylor's father. However you need to realize that this complaint is baseless. Craig Taylor is an abusive homophobe, who is trying to control his gay son, by having my client arrested."

"That's a very serious statement, Ms. Marcus. I hope you have evidence to back it up," the detective says.

"Craig Taylor, has, in the last few months physically attacked both my client and his son. He has hit Justin, and at one point broke two of my Mr. Kinney's ribs. Both instances were in front of witnesses, who I am sure will be willing to testify. We also suspect that an inquiry will prove that it was Mr. Taylor's grey sedan that brutally rammed my clients Jeep, not once but twice, back in November, leaving the scene of the accident before police arrived. A report was, of course, filed about the hit and run. Mr. Kinney ended up in the emergency room with a concussion and facial contusions. His jeep was totaled." Melanie leaned forward, her expression hard. "He threw his son out of the house for being gay and believes my client is somehow responsible for having 'converted' him. Something that any reputable psychologist will testify is complete hogwash. Craig Taylor is an angry man, who is willing to use any means to control his son, even threatening my client to get what he wants. He's the danger here." The detective watches her closely.

"And why would Justin Taylor care about what happens to Brian Kinney?" the detective asks.

"Justin is 17. He thinks he's in love with Brian. He follows him around like a little lost puppy trying to get his attention in any and every way that he can. When his parents threw him out, my client let him stay on the couch at his residence. He even tried to get Justin and his parents to reconcile. When that failed to work, he found a secure and safe place for Justin to live, and even helped him to get a part time job to help support himself. Brian and Justin Taylor are not lovers, or boyfriends, or partners. Justin isn't living with him or sharing his bed. And Brian is not the reason that Justin is gay." She sits back in her chair. "My client won't be answering any more questions."

Mel has him out a few hours later. His bail was lower than he'd thought it would be. The non-violent, first offense nature letting him loose for less than he'd thought it would be. Mel drives him home. He finds Michael there, straightening up the place. The police had been by. And they'd been very… thorough. Brian bypasses the mess, hugs Michael tightly, and then collapses on the couch.

"At least you got me home tonight. I can still make it into work tomorrow," he says to Melanie. She scoffs.

"That's one positive. I can't believe that asshole did this!" Michael says, sitting down beside him.

"This is far from over, Brian," Melanie says. There's a pounding on the door. She gets up to slide it open and suddenly Justin is there, Debbie hovering behind him.

"Brian!" he says, launching himself across the room. He lands in Brian's surprised lap, his mouth sealing to Brian's, his arms twining around him. Michael huffs, standing up, and walking over to greet his mother.

"He insisted on coming over. Can you believe this bullshit!?" Debbie asks, pulling her coat off. Brian reaches up to pull Justin closer, kissing him back, one hand roaming up the back of Justin's t-shirt. "Jesus, Sunshine! Don't try and eat him alive. There will be plenty of time for that later!" Debbie says with a laugh. Melanie shakes her head.

"Leave 'em alone, Deb," Melanie says. The care in her voice freezes Brian's blood. He breaks the kiss turning to look at her.

"What the fuck?" he asks. She frowns.

"I was going to tell you. The detective told me while you were being processed for release. Justin's father is petitioning for an order of protection. The judge isn't going to deny it, which means that as of tomorrow morning there will likely be a legal order keeping you away from Justin. Enjoy tonight while you have it. You won't be able to see or talk to each other for however long this lasts. And Brian, that could be a long time," she turns away then, sitting on a stool at the counter, and flipping through the folder in her hands. Brian clenches his jaw, and feels like his stomach is being yanked out through his chest. Justin stills against him.

"He can't do this!" Justin says, his voice desperate.

"Unfortunately he can," Mel says. "Justin, he's your father. He still has a legal claim on you. As soon as you turn 18 you can petition to cancel the order. That's if this isn't taken care of before then," she explains. Justin's jaw drops.

"My birthday isn't for like 3 months!" he says in objection.

"Stop being a drama princess. It's only two and a half," Brian says, smacking him on the ass. Justin stands up, pouting. And Brian follows, pulling Justin's body back into his own. "Come on," he pushes Justin toward the bedroom.

"Don't fuck him, Brian. I'm serious!" Melanie calls after them without looking up from her files.

"Yeah! Yeah! I heard you!" Brian calls back, sliding the floor to ceiling shutters closed to give himself and Justin some semblance of privacy. As soon as he turns around he has Justin wrapped around him like an octopus. Justin clings to him, and Brian takes a deep breath. "You're not going to cry are you?" he asks. Justin presses his forehead into Brian's neck, and shakes it from side to side, even as he sniffs quietly. Brian wraps one arm around Justin's shoulders, the other hand slides into Justin's blond hair, cradling the back of his head. "Nothing is going to come of this. They have no proof of anything and in 10 short little weeks you'll be all grown up. Finally." He feels Justin's body heave with a deep shaky breath.

"I can't believe this is happening," Justin says, pulling back. He covers his face with both hands, but not before Brian catches sight of the tears on his cheeks. Brian fits his palms to Justin's hips, pulling his pelvis tightly to his own.

"There's nothing we can do to change it. It's not worth dwelling on," he says, expression blank. Justin sighs, pulling his hands away. His face is left slightly damp, but the tears have stopped, which sort of makes Brian oddly proud.

"What are we going to do? I mean if I can't see you or talk to you…" Justin trails off. Brian shrugs.

"We'll manage. It's not forever, Sunshine."

"But you could get arrested for just talking to me, for running into me in the street!" Justin protests. Brian moves to the bed, tugging Justin down with him, until they're stretched out across the wide surface.

"You're going to go back to Debbie's house. You'll go to school. Work at the diner. I will go back to work, and avoid all of those places. It's not forever. You need to stop freaking out about this!"

"You could go to jail! All because my father is fucking homophobic asshole who wants to punish me for not pretending to be the good little country club straight boy he wishes I was!" Justin complains. Brian laughs.

"He'll learn. He only has legal control over you for a few more weeks. He's grasping at straws trying to regain control over your life in any way he possibly can. He's desperate. It's pathetic," Brian spits the last word out with disgust. It makes Justin laugh but he stops only a few seconds later.

"I'll miss you," he says. Brian jaw clenches with some unnamed emotion.

"Well I'm looking forward to having a little more peace and quiet around here," he says, raising an eyebrow. Justin pouts, smacking him in the shoulder. Brian laughs, bending down to press his mouth to Justin's. Justin moans, opening to him as he always does, tongue darting out to meet Brian's. His hands come up to grip Brian's shoulders, to grip the back of his tank.

A hesitant throat clearing from the end of the bed has them breaking apart. Brian looks up, expression stony. But it's Michael standing there, looking reluctant at having to interrupt.

"What, Mikey?" Brian asks.

"I'm sorry, but it's getting late. Ma says Justin has school in the morning, and Mel says she wants to talk to you for a few minutes before she heads home. She has to be in court first thing tomorrow." Justin makes a pained sound, flopping back across the bed limply.

"We'll be right there," Brian says lying back beside Justin on the bed. Michael turns and leaves the doorway. Justin turns his head to look at Brian, a resigned look in his eyes.

"I should go," he says. Brian doesn't respond, just blinks at him. Justin turns to stare at the ceiling, and after a few quiet beats of silence, he sits up on the side of the bed. Brian moves quickly, snagging him by the back of his long sleeved shirt, and tugging him back down. His mouth presses to Justin's again, tongue diving inside to steal Justin's breath. They break apart panting.

"Don't be a drama princess for the next… however long. And remember that as soon as it's legal for me too I'll be back inside that tight little ass of yours," he growls. He ignores the way Justin's eyes go wide, and how his whole face lights up with his namesake sunshine grin. "Now get out. You have school in the morning," Brian growls, pushing him toward the edge of the bed. He climbs out himself, loping down the steps in the main room of the loft.

Avoiding Justin takes more planning that Brian originally anticipates. Liberty Avenue is suddenly a lot smaller than it had always seemed before. Debbie calls him every week with Justin's work schedule at the diner. If Justin is working that day, he doesn't go near the place. He avoids Debbie and Vic's house too. At first he kind of enjoys getting to opt out of Debbie's bi-weekly family dinners. Her living room isn't big enough for him to stay the requisite 30 feet away from Justin in order to comply with the court order of protection. But he finds he misses the heavy carb riddled Italian food she always forces on them. He misses the loud chatter of too many bodies in too small a space. But that's nothing to how much he misses Justin.

He tries to deny it. He'd never admit it. Not to anyone, especially NOT Justin himself, but he notices the space where Justin used to be. And when the fuck did that happen? But somehow it had and it bothers him, even though he tries to ignore it. There are no books strewn across the counter, or the desk, or the coffee table. There are no dirty sneakers kicked off by the front door, no sketch pads left lying about. There's no milk in his fridge, or candy or chips in the kitchen cabinets. No stupid kid shows on the TV.

The first week he tries to revel in it. He spends every night at Babylon, one of the few places they've all forbidden Justin to even attempt to go. Both Babylon and Woody's were, naturally, given to Brian in their divvying up of Liberty Avenue between them. But eventually fucking a different guy, or sometimes two, each night sort of gets boring. And if that's not a wake-up call, Brian doesn't know what is. So he starts working extra hours, bringing home work from the office to keep himself occupied.

And if he starts to spend an evening or two each week hanging out at the Muncher's happy home, no one comments. Though he does see the fleeting smirk on Melanie's face, when he shows up at the door unannounced for the third time that week.

"Brian. What a surprise. Come on in," she says. There's a glass of red wine in her hand. And she gestures with it when she steps back from the door. "Lindz, he's back!" she calls. Brian raises an eyebrow and heads for the living room. Lindsay is lounging on the couch with Gus in her lap. She smiles at him when he comes in, holding the baby up when he gets close enough. Brian takes him, flopping down at the other end of the couch. Lindsay yanks her feet out of the way just in time to avoid getting squashed.

"Brian," she says warmly. Brian huffs, bouncing Gus in his lap.

"Lindsay," he says, leaning towards her to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. Melanie sits down in the spare armchair. Brian's attention turns to her. "So, Mel. Any news?" he asks. She sighs taking a big drink of her glass of wine. She slumps down in the seat, her legs spread.

"Not since I talked to you about it last. You know, yesterday," she says. He raises an eyebrow. "Ok, I'll recap." She sits up again. "Your court date hasn't been set yet because the DA still hasn't gotten their case together. They have no physical evidence and everyone they ask about your relationship with Justin gives the same standard reply. Yes you guys dance, yes you make out like nobody's business. But no they've never seen you suck each other's dick or ram each other's asses. It's a good thing what happens in the backroom stays in the backroom. Technically they have no proof of anything," she explains.

"And Justin?" Brian asks, his eyes focused on his son's bright face.

"Justin is being a stubborn little shit. We couldn't ask him to be doing any better. I think he's hoping that eventually he'll wear the DA down and she'll drop the charges. He keeps coming up with new demands. He wants his mother there but not his father. He wants his own lawyer. He wants me there. He wants Debbie there. He wants you there," she snorts with laughter. "He's got them running in circles playing his perfectly innocent little boy routine. And they were buying it for the first few weeks. But I don't think it will last much longer."

"Well then what will happen?" Lindsay asks, concern etched across her face. Mel shrugs again.

"With this DA? Who knows. Margaret Harris," Mel shakes her head. "She's a stubborn old bitch who doesn't like backing down. If she was a lesbian she'd be the quintessential bull dyke," Mel gulps down the last of her wine. "We're not going to let anything happen to Justin. But he is getting dangerously close to pissing this woman off. That might not be the best idea."

"Then what do you recommend?" Brian asks.

"I'm going to suggest we have one big group interview. Make sure she hears all about Justin's father. Let her make a fully informed decision. But it will take the DA, and Justin's lawyer agreeing to it. And I'll have to convince one of his parents to sign off." Brian smirks.

"You know if they actually do interview him, his mouth could cause a lot of damage," Brian says.

"Justin's not an idiot. Even he knows not to let himself speak before he thinks, even if he is a teenage boy," Lindsay says. A stilted silence descends on the living room. "But maybe we should ask Deb to talk to him before the interview happens?" Lindsay suggests. Brian laughs shaking his head.

It's not the first the time he's seen Justin in person since the night he'd been arrested. There had been a few near misses, when they'd still been staking out their claims on Liberty Avenue, and once when Justin had come in to cover for someone else at the Diner, on a night when it was supposed to be safe for Brian to come by. Each time Brian had frozen in place, Justin had looked up as if sensing his presence, and they had stared at each other for a few seconds. And each time Brian had backed away without engaging Justin in any capacity and thereby getting himself into trouble. So yeah, he'd seen him, but he hadn't talked to him in almost 3 weeks. He wasn't allowed to call, or email him, and all of his Justin news had been transmitted through their mutual friends, and often from Melanie in her legal capacity. Brian had drawn the line at sending cutesy little messages back and forth. They weren't in a relationship after all. But actually getting to legally walk into a room where Justin was going to be was somehow oddly thrilling. Brian tramped down on that emotion real fast. He was not a fucking lesbian.

The DA is naturally the first one there, and she takes a seat at the head of the long conference table. It's wide and solid. Brian catches himself imagining what it would be like to fuck Justin while the younger man was spread out across it, and decides that he seriously needs to get laid, ASAP. He is mentally making plans for what to wear to Babylon later that night, when Justin arrives. He's accompanied by a short chubby woman with bottle blonde hair, his advocate Brian reasons, and his mother. Jennifer Taylor looks frazzled, upset, and harangued. Brian can just imagine the shit she has putting up with from Justin the past few weeks. He bites his lips to contain the smile but Melanie elbows him in the ribs anyway. His eyes track Justin who smirks in his direction as he sits down on the other side of the table. He chooses the seat directly across from Brian, and smiles at him, sitting up straight in the seat.

"Hey, Brian," he says sweetly, biting at his lower lip. Brian shakes his head and clears his throat.

"Justin," he says in greeting. "Mrs. Taylor, you're looking well," he says, folding his hands and putting them on the table in front of him. Jennifer huffs in irritation, shrugging out of her coat and yanking out the chair next to Justin. Her eyes meet Brian's, and immediately skid away.

"Brian," she replies with a nod. Her eyes move to follow Justin's lawyer as she sits on his other side, closer to the DA, and starts to pull papers out of her briefcase. They sit in silence, Brian letting his eyes occasionally fall to rest on Justin, only to find that Justin's gaze never falters, and never waivers. He slowly slides down in his seat, his mouth dropping open as he stares. "Justin, Honey, sit up," his mother complains, tapping his wrist. Justin pulls his hand away, but does as she says.

"Do you miss me?" he asks, eyes still focused solely on Brian. Brian thinks carefully before replying, knowing they are being observed by pretty much everyone in the room.

"Why would I miss my 17 year old stalker?" Brian asks, blinking innocently. Justin takes it for what it is, a term of endearment, and grins lasciviously in return. That's approximately when Justin's father arrives, stony faced with a man in a suit that Brian assumes is his lawyer. The DA, introduces herself as Margaret Harris. She's yet to talk to Brian, mostly because Melanie has repeatedly refused in an effort to keep stalling but also because she had wanted to talk to the supposed victim in the case first.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin. Today's meeting and interview has been a long time coming. We all had to agree to a few things for this to happen so there will be a few ground rules," here the DA pauses as Craig Taylor leans forward.

"I didn't agree to have that pervert here. I don't want him anywhere near my son. He's breaking a court order by being here!" he growls. Brian raises an eyebrow and sits back in his chair, refusing to engage the crazy man.

"I did not need your permission to have Mr. Kinney here, Mr. Taylor. I needed only one parental signature, and your wife gave it to me. It was the only way Justin would talk to us. You do not have to be here, as you are not a witness, defendant, or victim. So please be quiet. If you have a question state it politely," her tone is cold and Brian turns his head to meet Mel's eyes. Mel takes a deep breath but turns back to her papers. Craig Taylor scowls at the DA before sitting back in his chair. "On to the ground rules," Harris repeats. Brian listens to her lay them out. She is the one asking questions. Justin's lawyer was there to protect his rights. Melanie and Brian were to sit quietly. They were not to interfere in the questioning, or to ask any questions themselves. Mr. Taylor and his lawyer were to be quiet too. Everyone nods in agreement.

"Justin, I understand your reluctance to talk about what happened, but you must understand how serious these allegations are. This is not a misdemeanor charge. Mr. Kinney is facing jail time. So I need you to be completely honest and upfront about what has happened. Do you understand?" she asks. Justin nods at her, his eyes leaving Brian for probably the first time.

"Yes. I understand," he says, face serious. Brian has to bite the inside of his cheek. This is going to be so good to watch.

"Good. Justin would you like to tell me what happened between you and Brian Kinney?" she asks. Justin stares back at her.

"Not particularly," he says crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat. Harris frowns.

"Justin, you agreed to cooperate with this investigation," she says gently. Justin smirks a little.

"I agreed to come in and talk to you. Not to spill the details of my private life for both my parents and half of Pittsburgh to hear. It's called a private life for a reason. What Brian and I did or did not do, is none of your business. Anything that happened was with my complete consent, and I'm not some victim. I don't know what else you expect me to say," he says.

"Why don't you tell me how you met, Mr. Kinney?" Harris asks. Justin smiles, his face lighting up.

"Fine. I told my parents I was spending the night at my best friend Daphne's house. Then I hitched a bus down to Liberty Avenue. It's the gay district. I was gay. I wanted to see what it was like."

"You were not gay! He made you this way," Craig yelled. Justin rolled his eyes. Harris sent a glare down the table.

"Mr. Taylor, this is your first warning. Another outburst like that and you will not be allowed to stay for the interview," she warns. Craig slumps down in his chair again, his lawyer leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"I was definitely gay. I've known I liked boys for a very long time, Ms. Harris. Brian didn't make me gay. You can't make someone gay. It's not a choice, or a disease that's catching. It's something you either are or aren't. I am." Justin replies, and Brian feels a small surge of pride. Melanie leans over.

"Did you teach him that?" she asks quietly. Brian shakes his head no.

"So you met Mr. Kinney on Liberty Avenue?" Harris prompts. Justin nods.

"Yes, he was leaving a club with a group of his friends. He saw me. He came over, he asked me if I had any plans and I said no. He invited me to go back to his place and I said yes." Justin shrugs his shoulders. "So we did."

"And did he have sex with you?" Harris asks, making notes. Justin smirks.

"Define sex?" he asks. She looks up to meet his eyes.

"Did he have sexual intercourse with you? Did he put your penis in his mouth, or put his penis in your mouth?" She asks. Justin smiles.

"No," Justin says. "We got interrupted. The telephone rang. It was only after that when he told me I had to go home and I objected that I told him how old I really was."

"What did you tell him?" Harris asks.

"I lied. I told him I was 20. Then I came clean and told him the truth. I'm 17," Justin explains.

"You lied to him?" she asks. He nods. She makes another note. "Then what happened?"

"We went to the hospital. He let me tag along because I had nowhere to go. I met his newborn son, and his two mothers, and then later we left," Justin says trailing off.

"Did you go back to his apartment?" she asks.

"Yes," Justin answers.

"Justin, did you have sex with Mr. Kinney?" she asks. Justin presses his mouth together.

"I'm not going to answer that question," Justin says quietly. "You can't make me answer that question. And my refusal will never be enough proof for you to get the jury to convict him. Especially when I know you have no physical evidence, and no witnesses. All you have is the so called victim's testimony, and if you put me on the stand I will refuse to answer. I'd like to see how well that goes over in court," Justin says smirking a little. Harris glowers at him.

"This is not a time for games. The law must be carried out, Justin. If he had sex with you then he broke the law and must be punished for it," she says gently. Justin shakes his head.

"What are you going to do to me if I don't answer your questions? If I don't testify? Are you going to put me on trial? That will go over great with press. I can see the headlines now '17 year old victim tried for refusing to testify about his sex life. Held in contempt of court'?" he asks.

"I'm afraid that is a reasonable assumption of what would happen, Justin. Why won't you cooperate?" Harris says, removing her glasses.

"I have to ask this: Why am I old enough to drive? Old enough to be held responsible for contempt of court? Or for obstructing an investigation? But I'm not old enough to decide whose dick I let up my ass?" he spits, face flushing. "I dare you to take this to trial," he says. "I'll sit up there and not say a fucking word. And you'll be the monster who tried to make me. Brian has never hurt me. He's taken better care of me than either of my parents have these past few months, and I will never say anything that could even partially indicate he's done something to the contrary. You have no witnesses, no evidence, just a bunch of rumor and speculation, that's all." Justin sits back in his seat.

"What about this?" Craig asks. He reaches into his briefcase and tosses a sketch pad onto the table. Justin snatches it as it slides down the length of the wooden surface.

"This is my sketchpad!" Justin says. "This is personal!" Craig yanks it away from him, caring it down to the DA.

"Flip through it. Tell me how he could draw those things if he never did… THAT with Kinney," he says. Justin glares at him.

"Drawings are subjective," Melanie says. "They're not proof of anything, Mr. Taylor. Most artists have very high levels of creativity and wonderful imaginations," she replies. "If Justin drew the face of an actor on a naked body it would be no proof he'd seen that actor naked, let alone had sexual relations with him."

"Justin," Jennifer says quietly, and everyone turns to look at her. "I know you slept with Brian. I know, because you told me." Justin frowns.

"I did no such thing," Justin says, crossing his arms. Craig sat back in triumph.

"Yes you did. You told me at the therapists when I took you a few months ago," Jennifer says. Justin rolls his eyes.

"I believe my exact words were and I quote 'I like dick. I want to get fucked by dick. I want to suck dick. I like sucking dick. And I'm good at it, too.'" He smirks and Brian has to hide his smile behind a hand, inordinately proud of the kids gall. "I don't recall ever mentioning Brian's name in connection to any of those activities. Brian's the only one who has ever turned down a blow job from me." Brian has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud, and he sees Melanie curl into herself with suppressed mirth.

"Jesus, Justin. How many men have you slept with?" Jennifer asks. Justin turns his eyes to the ceiling, making a show of mentally calculating.

"If we count hand jobs, blow jobs, and fucking then approximately 17. And I'm fairly sure most of them were older than 21. Should I start making a list so THEY can all be brought up on charges too?" he asks, looking at the DA. Jennifer's jaw drops, and Craig sits back in his seat a horrified look on his face. Justin glances at his parents. "What!? I'm young, pretty, blond, and I've got a fabulous ass. Add that I can dance like a well-paid Go-Go Boy and that I like to flirt, and it's a recipe for getting a lot of action." He looks at his mother again. "Oh, but don't worry, I always use a condom." He smirks again, his eyes landing on Brian's amused face. His eyes sparkle as his smirk stretches into a full blown grin. The DA clears her throat.

"I'm beginning to think this case may be a lost cause," she flips through her notes. Justin laughs a little.

"The only reason my father filed is because he hates that I'm gay and he hates Brian," he pauses then, like he's contemplating something. He frowns, all the amusement disappearing off his face. "I was actually hoping you could help me with something."

"With what, exactly, Mr. Taylor?" Harris asks, looking tired. Justin smirks.

"I want an order of protection against my father, and I want to know why you haven't filed assault charges against him yet?" he says, hands folded and resting in front of him on the table.

The chaos that erupts is sort of hilarious to watch. Craig jumps out of his seat and starts screaming, his lawyer fighting desperately to calm him down, Jennifer's jaw drops open and she stares at Justin like she's never seen him before in her life. Justin's Advocate starts flipping through a folder in front of her, pulling out papers to pass to Harris. The DA looks around with mild aggravation as she takes the papers, and starts to flip through them. Brian turns his eyes to Melanie only to see her shaking her head, and digging through her own files. He glances back to Justin only to find his blue eyes are once more focused solely on Brian, the smirk on his face undiminished.

"That's enough!" Harris yells, she nods, and two uniformed cops step into the room. Craig slumps back into his seat, face red and furious, chest heaving with anger.

"Justin, you can't do this!" Jennifer pleads, reaching for him. Justin jerks away.

"What can't I do? He hates me. He thinks I need to be deprogrammed or something! He threw me out of my home, attacks people I care about. He tells me my 'lifestyle' is disgusting and unnatural. And he's already hit me once. Don't lie, Mom. You saw him do it! Why wouldn't I want an order of protection against him?"

"This is serious, Justin. You need to consider what you're doing very carefully," Harris says. Justin glances at his Advocate. She nods, clearing her throat.

"Justin turns 18 in just 7 weeks. Until that time he wishes his father to be kept away from him for his own protection. Craig Taylor has been verbally and physically abusive. He's attacked both Justin and Mr. Kinney, in front of witnesses. He's insisted on filing these baseless accusations without concern for the damage done to Justin's wellbeing. He has withdrawn all financial and emotional support for Justin. And Justin has managed to deal with all of this in a mature and adult manner. Frankly if he wasn't turning 18 in less than 2 months, I'd be applying for emancipated minor status," she explains. Harris' lips tighten.

"Mrs. Taylor, did you witness your son being verbally or physically abused by your husband?" she asks. Jennifer looks stricken.

"He's said some things in his anger, but I don't think he meant them. Not really…" she says, voice pleading.

"And did you see him strike, Justin?" Harris asks. Jennifer looks down, straightening her shoulders.

"Yes," she says solemnly.

"Jennifer!" Craig yells. She flinches.

"You want me to lie, Craig? You hit him! Right there in the middle of our driveway," she answers angrily. He glares at her.

"Tell her about the car," Justin says, eyes on his mother. Jennifer frowns.

"What about the car?" she asks. He rolls his eyes.

"The same day he hit me, the car was in the garage all smashed up," he prompts. She shakes her head at him.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," she says. Justin turns to Harris, than to Melanie and Brian.

"The night before my father hit me, Brian was rear-ended and then T-boned by a grey sedan, while sitting at an intersection. The next day my dad's grey sedan is all wrecked. Practically totaled. Coincidence?" he asks. Jennifer shakes her head.

"Your father wouldn't do that," she says.

"Mr. Kinney, you filed a police report?" Harris asks. Melanie hands it over.

"The driver left the scene. We didn't get a plate, just a minimal description of the car. We never heard anything further," she says.

"Here," Justin pulls a folded up piece of yellow paper out of his pocket and hands it over too. "I found that at the house. It's a receipt. Dated two days after the accident, for extensive front-end damage to my dad's grey Lincoln." He watches her compare the dates. "Brian was injured in that incident. He had a concussion and suffered cuts to his face. And it's not the only time my father's hurt him," he explains. Harris eyes Justin, before turning to Brian.

Brian tips his chin up, keeping his face emotionless. 'Justin, you smart little fucker,' he thinks proudly.

"A few weeks later my father attacked him on Liberty Avenue out of nowhere. Completely unprovoked. He hit me and Brian in front of witnesses. Then told me I was never allowed to come home again. I can give you a list of their names if you'd like."

The DA drops the charges. Brian slumps to sprawl on his couch as Melanie tells him the news. He closes his eyes and feels the weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank you, Melanie," he says sincerely, squeezing the words out carefully. She laughs on the other end of the line.

"I didn't do anything this time, Brian. You owe it all to Justin. He's a devious little shit, you know that?" she asks. Brian grins glad no one is there to see it.

"You're just figuring this out now?" he asks. He's tempted to hang up on her renewed laughter.

"So here's the deal. You're no longer under the watchful eye of the Pittsburgh PD, but Justin is still underage and you are still facing the order of protection," she explains. "You can't have any contact with him. He turns 18 in 6 weeks, but until then, he can't ask for the order of protection to be dropped. Jennifer seems unwilling to do it. But luckily it appears the judge is willing to issue a second order protecting Justin from his father. So I'll take that as a win."

"Good. And you know Justin will report Craig if he breaks it."

"That would serve the bastard right. Have you changed your mind about getting your own order of protection?" Melanie asks. Brian shakes his head even though she can't see him.

"Nah. Let the bastard come after me again. I don't go anywhere he goes. If he ends up on at the loft, my job, or anywhere on Liberty, it should be fairly obvious that he was the aggressor."

"I disagree, Brian. All you'd need is some homophobic asshole on the bench or at the DA's office, and they wouldn't do anything to him. This is a good judge. Cover your ass. Better safe than sorry," Melanie warns. Brian stares at the wall of the loft, her words rolling around in his head. He nods.

"Fine. Go after his ass. I don't want him coming anywhere near me."

"Ok. Consider it done. You know it never ceases to amaze me. You fuck his underage son, and instead of getting into trouble for it, you get his ass in a sling, and walk away scot free," she complains. Brian smirks.

"Just get it done, Mel."

"Yeah yeah. I'll call you when I have news." She hangs up without exchanging goodbyes.

Within a few days a full scale investigation is begun looking into Craig Taylor and all of his actions. Melanie gives all the guys a heads up that they might be questioned, and turns over all of the evidence they have about the incidents, including insurance information on the totaled jeep and medical reports on Brian's injuries. A judge does end up granting Brian an order of protection, but a fear of the criminal justice system proves to be enough to keep Craig Taylor away from both Justin and Brian.

The most surprising thing to happen as a result of the whole mess is that Jennifer leaves Craig, and takes Molly with her. She shows up on Debbie's door one night with a car full of packed bags, and a drowsy and confused Molly in tow. Her lawyer, she says, thinks she has a high probability of getting full custody of Molly, especially when Jennifer hands over a half dozen hate-filled tapes of voicemail messages Craig'd left her. Her stay at Debbie's is brief, and soon she and Molly move to an extended stay hotel until they can find a place to rent. Justin however chooses to stay with Debbie, all though, Brian hears through the grapevine, his relationship with his mother has drastically improved in the past month and a half.

More time passes and Brian tries hard not to count the days. He only figures out something is being planned because everyone doesn't make a big deal about Justin's upcoming birthday. There is no discussion of a throwing a party, or buying presents, or arranging a night out on the town. Not even the mention of a "family" dinner at Deb's house. Everyone is being entirely too nonchalant about the whole thing.

But as the big day approaches Brian keeps walking in on whispered conversations that appear to miraculously end the moment he enters earshot. He barely manages to refrain from calling them out on it each time it happens. It would only encourage them all.

Internally he has a rolling countdown clock of just how much longer he has to wait in order to see Justin again. But that is something he would never admit to anyone, not even himself.

He barely manages to not roll his eyes at Michael's rather grudging invitation to dinner at the diner followed by a night at Babylon with him and the boys the night Justin turns 18. Do they think he's stupid? As if he doesn't know that dinner at the diner is really a surprise birthday party for Justin, and that the after-party at Babylon is probably already planned out to be a three-way with him, Justin, and the Backroom. Instead of agreeing he stays noncommittal as always, and shakes his head at how pathetic and fairytale romantic the whole thing is.

Instead he stays late at work, goes by the gym for a little stress relief and a blowjob, and then heads home later with a bag of take out and a case of beer.

He ignores all the missed calls on his phone and eventually turns it off completely. He's not in the mood for a lecture right now.

Brian is not even a little surprised to find the loft door unlocked and the whole space lit up blue with the flicker of TV light. Justin turns to look at him offering a smile and a wave before turning back to the TV. Brian fights back a smirk and goes for reprimanding instead.

"You left the door unlocked!" he calls sliding the door closed with a rumble and flicking the lock into place. He arms the alarm for good measure and drops his food onto the counter.

"I knew you'd be home soon," Justin answers. He's concentrating so hard on the TV that Brian finds himself smirking out right.

"What are you even doing here?" he asks sticking the case of beer into the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. He has a perfect profile view of Justin's face as he grins a little wickedly. Brian tries not to stare at the way Justin's hair is lit up by the light from the TV like some sort of blue halo.

"I knew you'd be home soon," Justin repeats. He turns to look at Brian dead on again, and Brian feels what little resolve he had crumble away.

"Hmm, you can be perceptive like that," Brian says as he walks across the loft leisurely and spreads himself out across the opposite end of the couch. "How was your little Birthday party? Get everything you wanted" he asks. Justin shrugs but his fingers are twitching. Brian is suddenly glad he changed at the gym because his dick is already hardening in his jeans. He'd hate to ruin yet another pair of dress pants with a come stain and he hasn't even touched Justin yet.

Justin turns toward him on the couch, pulling his feet up under his ass and almost bouncing in place, face flushing just a little.

"Pretty much. New clothes, a couple of CDs. Emmett got me a gift certificate to his shop, and Lindz and Mel got me a box of art supplies. Debbie bought me a bottle of lube and a box of condoms."

"Hmm… everything a young gay man could possibly hope for. All that's missing is the illicit drugs and the underage alcohol," Brian teases. "Oh and an orgasm or five."

Justin's eyes get wide and he laughs, mouth falling open in surprise. He presses up onto his knees and shuffles closer.

"Yeah… about that. There was one present I haven't gotten to open yet," Justin says, going for coy and missing the mark. Brian cocks his head at him.

"Oh?" he asks, teasing. Justin practically slithers into his lap, pressing his hips hard into Brian's, letting his hands trail down Brian's button up and down to the button of his jeans.

"Yeah. It's different from the other ones. Big and hard and…" he presses his hand into Brian's cock through denim and squeezes, "pulsating," Justin finishes. Brian groans, tilting his head back to press into the top of the couch. He arches, lifting his hips into Justin's hands. Justin actually smirks in answer, before licking a stripe up Brian's throat to bite at his lips. Brian picks his head up and finally lets himself touch. He grabs Justin's hips, pulling them hard against his own and making the younger man groan. Justin makes a sort of pained desperate sound. "Brian," he whispers, voice pleading. Brian nods, sliding his hands under Justin's t-shirt and yanking it off his head, Justin's arms flying up to take it off in one practiced move.

"Wouldn't want to deprave the Birthday Boy," he says, trying for teasing. It sort of just comes out brutally honest, and Justin kisses him hard and eager, hands going back to Brian's fly. He pops the top button, pulling down the zipper carefully, hands shaking just the tiniest bit. "Calm down," Brian says. "You've done this before," he reassures. Justin takes a deep steadying breath and when he moves again his hands are steady and familiar and confident again. Justin kisses Brian fiercely and when he pulls back from the kiss, his mouth red and wet and tempting. He moves back, sliding down to kiss across Brian's collarbone where his shirt has gaped open. Brian starts unbuttoning it, giving up half way down to pull it off over his head, and then relaxing back to let Justin do as he pleases.

Justin kisses down, licking and sucking, and scraping his teeth as he moves further and further south until he's nosing at Brian's hard on.

"Best present ever," Justin says almost to himself, his tongue flicking out to taste. Brian barely keeps his hips in check, and lets one hand tangle in Justin's hair in encouragement.

"Come on," he says through gritted teeth.

He shouldn't be surprised that his cell goes off just then. He momentarily contemplates flinging it across the room. But he refrains. He does grimace and let out a groan of frustration that makes Justin pull off his dick laughing. Brian tightens his fingers in Justin's hair, gives him a scolding look before guiding his head back down again.

"What. Do you. Want?" he asks. He barely registers Debbie's voice in full on lecture mode, before he's pulling the phone away from his ear and letting his head fall back again. Justin gives a long strong suck that has Brian's stomach tightening in anticipation. He tenses all over and rocks up into Justin's mouth. He brings the phone back to his ear and Debbie's still going. "I got it Debbie. I'm a fool, and an asshole, and blah blah blah. I'm kind of busy at the moment, so I'm hanging up now." He hangs up the phone, tossing it to the other end of the couch and reaches for Justin. He tugs at Justin's hair near his ear, and Justin pulls off dutifully wiping at his mouth with one wrist, and grinning up at Brian. Brian tugs again, and Justin crawls up to press his mouth to Brian's.

Brian sucks and licks at Justin's mouth, reaching for Justin's fly. He unbuttons it with one hand, using the other to slide down the back of the waistband to squeeze at the flesh of Justin's ass, bare beneath his jeans. He finally gets Justin's pants open and reaches in for Justin's erection. Justin sighs against his mouth, twisting his head to change the angle and wrapping one hand around the nape of Brian's neck as he arches into his touch, the other wrapped around Brian's dick and moving in a steady quick motion. Brian breaks the kiss to suck in a breath, panting just a little.

"You missed me?" Brian can't help but ask, mouth grazing Justin's with each word. Justin nods, licking at Brian's mouth before answering verbally.

"Yes. Yes. Yes," Justin says quickly, fingers scratching at Brian's scalp. He lets go of Brian to push at his own jeans. "Come on. It's been months. Fuck me!" he says demandingly. Brian chuckles.

"Well, since it's your birthday," he says. He smacks Justin once on the ass, and let's go of his dick. Justin hops up eagerly, pushing at the pants on his hips until they slide free and he can kick them off. He wraps one hand around his own dick, and pends down to grab his backpack off the floor, aiming his ass in Brian's direction as he does so. Brian lunges in his direction reaching for him intent on showing the little shit just who is boss, but Justin dances away. He walks backward toward the bedroom, holding up his newly gifted box of condoms and bottle of lube.

"I want it hard and sloppy," he demands, backing up the stairs with Brian in hot pursuit. Brian sheds his pants in the doorway, dropping them to the side, and watching Justin sprawl out on the bed. "I want to feel it for the next three days," Justin says arching like a cat before rolling over onto all fours.

Brian can do that. Brian can definitely do that.


End file.
