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Guys, here is chapter three. Thanks again to my great team, Pfyre, Roz, Jen and Alan. ALso check out Jen's illustration for the next chapter, it's pretty HOT!! Thanks for reading, Randall

Reconstructing Brian

Chapter 3

Gus was sleeping soundly in his portable crib. Most of Lindsay's gear was stored in the small bedroom at the end of the hall, where she and her son were bivouacked. Brian lit a fire and poured the wine, choosing soothing music for the sound system. He sat beside her with his arm across her shoulders. The box of tissues on her lap had been purloined from his bedroom. "Start over," he insisted. "I couldn't understand what you were saying when you were crying so hard. Something about Melanie working late and then going out for Chinese?"

She sighed, shaking her head and blowing her nose into the wadded tissue in her hand. "She's been going out with a Chinese woman."

"What are you talking about?"

"Cheating, Brian! You know all about cheating, don't you?"

He sighed. "Don't make this about me," he cautioned her. " I haven't done anything wrong."

"I know, I'm sorry," she said as she patted his arm. "If it were the first time, but it isn't. She didn't even deny it. She was all self-righteous about it, accusing me of following her, checking up on her. Well, why shouldn't I? Every night, she's late, claiming to be working on a case, but she's really out with this China doll. They go to some sleazy hotel and spend the whole evening together and then she comes home to me smelling of ginseng and ginger which she claims is from some herbal tea."

Brian suppressed a smile. "So what did she say when you hit her with it?"

"Nothing, it turned into a horrible fight. She has no respect for me or my career. I'm just the mother who stays home with the baby while she buys the bread. You know what? I buy bread too. I may not be a lawyer, but I also have ambitions beyond raising a child."

"I remember when we were young, and you were going to be this sophisticated and vastly successful art dealer in New York," he said with a smile and she sighed.

"Is it too late for that?"

"Linds, I don't know. When is it ever too late to pursue a dream? But reality is ugly. Dreams don't always come true, and making a living is harsh."

She glanced at his handsome profile. "Were you off today? I called your office and they said you were out."

Brian nodded. For the rest of the month, they would take messages for him, and not reveal that he had left the firm. Once he went off their payroll, that would change. "Yeah, I was off." He just couldn't tell her the truth. He was too ashamed. "What did Mel say about your leaving?"

"She said 'Oh sure, run off to your precious Brian. That's where you've always wanted to be anyway'. I told her she couldn't reverse this and make me feel guilty when she was the one cheating. She said I had a filthy mind and no faith in her and that she was sick of my being such a drama queen and a drain."

"Can dykes be drama queens?"

"Brian!"

"I'm just asking..."

"Anyway, after she left for work, I packed up and here I am."

"Yeah, here you are. What the hell do you plan to do?"

"I don't know, Brian. Get my head together and maybe pursue that dream of mine?"

"Do you know how expensive it is to live in this city, Linds? In a place where Gus would be safe? And then there's the issue of a nanny, of a private school, of...how do you plan to pay for all this?"

"We can sell the house in Pittsburgh. It's half-mine. Until then, I have the money you give me for Gus and a little in the bank...I don't know, Brian. I was hoping you could help me. It's not like I wouldn't pay you back."

He leaned back with a sigh, feeling the pressure settle in on his chest like an anvil. "Fuck." He didn't realize he had said it aloud until she glared at him, welling up for another thunderstorm of tears.

"Forget it, then! I can take care of Gus on my own. I'll get a job, I'm smart, I'm educated, I don't fucking need you or..."

"Shut up," he said calmly, shaking her shoulders gently in both hands. "Just shut up for a minute. Finish your wine. I have to take a leak. I'll be right back."

He went into the bathroom and leaned against the door, his eyes closed. His old friend, Mr. Headache, returned with a vengeance. Next to Mikey, Lindsay was his oldest friend. His former lover. The mother of his only child. Even if he had no feelings for her at all, he had a responsibility to Gus. He couldn't let her do anything rash that would place Gus in danger. But what could he do? He had enough money to exist for a few months, without this extra burden. With it, how short was his fuse? When he finally went back out, with an expression of forced good humor, he found her asleep on the sofa, still holding her wine stem. He gently took it from her hand and covered her with the afghan, checking on Gus before he went into the kitchen, wondering what they could stretch to feed another.

Dr. Friedman's Notes:

Justin Taylor (JT), 20, W-M, self-identified homosexual. Student. Lives with domestic partner, Brian Kinney (BK), 32, Advertising Executive. JT was referred by Lydia Johnson. JT was the victim of a hate crime over two years ago. He suffered a head injury, see notes in file, and was in a coma for several weeks. He has residual motor control issues as a result of that injury for which he is still undergoing physical therapy.

JT left BK and became involved with another man, but that relationship was short-lived. He has reunited with his first partner, and as part of their attempt to build a stronger relationship, both are undergoing therapy, individually and as partners. They were victimized by another man who is now facing criminal charges. An additional emotional burden it the fact that JT's younger sister is recovering from leukemia.

JT complains of occasional bouts of night terrors and non-specific anxiety. I asked that he submit to a physical examination, and the complete results are in the file. Overall, his health is good. His only physical limitation is his motor skill injury, for which he is being treated. JT arrived on time for his first session. He is a charming, amiable youth. Handsome, clean cut, casually dressed. He has a nervous habit of chewing on his thumbnail as he thinks, and he sits with one leg tucked under him in a boyish manner.

Excerpt from transcript:

Doctor: Have you been through therapy before, Justin?

JT: Once, my mom took me to see this shrink because I guess she thought she could talk me out of being gay. Mom was at the session with me.

Doctor: When was that?

(Winces, contemplates.) JT: When I first came out. A couple years ago.

Doctor: How did it go?

JT: (Laughs.) Well, I told her I liked sucking cock and we never went back. I think my Mom realized it was hopeless.

Doctor: You think it was her attempt to prevent you from being gay?

JT: She was scared of it.

Doctor: Were you?

JT: How can I be scared of something I am? That's like saying I'm scared of having blue eyes.

Doctor: When did you realize you were gay?

JT: I've always been gay. I have no memories of ever believing I was straight. As a kid, I had crushes on men. I was nervous about it, not sure how to go about it, but there was no doubt in my mind, ever, whether I was queer.

Doctor: When was your first sexual experience?

JT: When I was seventeen, with Brian.

Doctor: He seduced you?

JT: Other way round. I went to Liberty Avenue with the express idea of getting laid, at last. Only, I wasn't having much luck. I wasn't sure where to go. The whole scene was intimidating. And then I saw Brian getting into a Jeep with some friends. He was so fucking hot.

Doctor: You approached him?

JT: No, I made him approach me. As soon as his eyes met mine, I knew.

Doctor: What did you know?

JT: That he was the one.

Doctor: For your first sexual experience?

JT: For my life partner. At least I knew that, physically, this was my ideal partner, everything I wanted in a man. I guess he could have turned out to be dumb or boring or an asshole, but he didn't. (Laughs.) Well, maybe an asshole, but we all are from time to time.

Doctor: So you went home with him?

JT: Yes, to his gorgeous loft.

Doctor: How did it go?

JT: You want details?

Doctor: I'm not after the prurient, Justin. Tell me what you think is important.

JT: I was terrified. I wanted it but I was unsure of what to do. Brian undressed, showing off that perfect body of his and he is so well hung...sorry.

Doctor: You aren't going to shock me, Justin. Continue.

JT: He was very gentle and sweet about it. It hurt at first, but I got into it pretty quickly. We were interrupted by the birth of his son.

Doctor: Excuse me?

JT: Yeah, he had donated sperm to a lesbian friend, and she delivered that night. So we went to the hospital and visited them. I even got to weigh in on the baby's name. Brian dropped some E on the way home, so he was pretty tweaked.

Doctor: Do you use drugs?

JT: I have used drugs, everyone does. Mainly E, tried coke once, grass. A few disco drugs, like K. But both Brian and I have cut way back. We just aren't doing the scene anymore and it's stupid to do those kind of drugs when you're a couple. We still smoke grass to mellow out, occasionally.

Doctor: Let's spend some more time on the drugs later. For now, let's talk about that first night. So after the hospital, you returned to his home?

JT: Yeah, we did it all night. Brian was funny. He was so tweaked, he was showing out all over his loft, messing the place up, really funny. And then we started fucking, and that was all that mattered. By the next morning, he had forgotten everything. Who I was, that he had a baby, what he did to the loft. But he hadn't forgotten the sex, and we did it again in the shower.

Doctor: How did you feel about the loss of your virginity?

JT: Sore! He's huge. Seriously, I felt like I was madly in love with him. Looking back, I know it was a reaction to the whole sexual introduction thing and the dynamics of being with a man as handsome and experienced as Brian. I see the difference between how it was to THINK I was in love with him, and how it is to BE in love with him, as I am now. I was in lust and had a crush. Now I love the man.

Doctor: Did it take you awhile to get to that separation of emotion?

JT: You wouldn't believe how long. Lots of pain, lots of growing up, for both of us.

Doctor: How old was Brian at this time?

JT: 29.

Doctor: Were you bothered by the age difference?

JT: No, I figured he was somewhere between his mid- twenties and early thirties. I didn't care. I teased him about it, but I thought it was kind of cool to be fucking an older guy. I couldn't stand boys my age. Up until recently, I thought they were all homophobic assholes.

Doctor: Did boys your own age give you a hard time?

JT: Are you kidding me? I'm lucky I made it out of high school alive. Seriously. I was almost killed at my prom.

Doctor: The prom is the event that led to your bashing?

JT: Yes.

Doctor: How much do you remember about it?

JT: Not much.

Doctor: Tell me.

JT: I thought you were going to make me remember.

Doctor: I'm not going to MAKE you do anything, Justin. I'm going to help you remember, if you want. But before we do any regression, I'd like to know what you remember now.

JT: Some of it is mixed up with what people have told me. I had asked Brian to go to the prom with me but he flatly refused so I went with Daphne, my best friend. To my surprise, Brian showed up. It was his birthday, he'd just turned thirty. He looked so elegant in a dark tux and shirt with a white silk scarf against his lapels.

Doctor: That must have caused quite a commotion.

JT: Oh yeah, everyone was staring as he walked up to Daph and me. I didn't care. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was so thrilled, I couldn't stop smiling.

Doctor: And then?

JT: ( winces.) And then he asked me to dance. Nothing. I don't remember any of it although Daph says it was the most romantic thing she'd ever seen. I know we stopped the show, everyone watched. I know I walked to his car with him and he put his scarf around me as we kissed. I know Hobbs was waiting for me in the garage and that he hit me in the head with a bat. Most of that I know from what people have said. I have had a few flashes of memory, of Brian twirling me on the dance floor. Of his kiss. Of his screaming my name in the garage, when he saw Hobbs. But they're nothing more than sound bytes. They just last a millisecond.

Doctor: What is your first memory after the bashing?

JT: I woke up with this horrible headache and a big thirst. I could barely open my eyes. My mom was there. I was in a bed in a strange room. My hand felt like a lead weight was pressing it to the bed. I asked for Brian.

Doctor: Was he there?

JT: No. He wasn't there. I thought he just forgot about me when they told me I'd been in a coma for weeks. He wasn't into boyfriends, especially not sick ones. I knew I had to get well and track him down. I didn't want to lose him. Months later, I find out he was at the hospital every night, watching me sleep. He just didn't want anyone to know. And he wore that white silk scarf that was covered in my dried blood under his shirt every single day.

(JT sighs, looks down, becoming emotional. I give him a moment to recover.)

Doctor: Do you want to leave it there until the next session, Justin? We're almost out of time.

JT: (nods.) Please.

End of excerpt.

Justin walked into the loft, surprised when Gus toddled up to him like the friendly two year old going on three that he was. He was also verbal enough to speak in sentences, and generous enough to hand him a soggy cookie. Justin scooped him up and the baby straddled his hip as Justin glimpsed Lindsay asleep on the couch and Brian busy in the kitchen.

"Mama's sleepy, shhhhhhhh!" Gus cautioned as Justin carried him into the kitchen and looked up to receive Brian's kiss.

"Are you cooking?"

"I'm warming up the leftover scampi and making a salad for us, and I opened a can of Spaghettios for the kid. I have cans of it left over from his last visit. Your position in the kitchen is secure."

"Daddy!" Gus held open his arms for Brian, who took the handoff from Justin, and gave him the spoon to stir the saucepan.

"What's up with this?" Justin asked carefully, nodding towards Lindsay.

"Down," Gus demanded, and Brian let him down on the floor, instructing him to go play with his toys in the other room. He then turned to Justin when they were alone.

"Fight with Melanie. Big one. Thinks she wants to move to New York. Doesn't know about my job. Say nothing."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Brian. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Please?"

"Okay, sure, if that's what you want. What will she do? Where will she live?"

"Right now, in the spare room down the hall," Brian responded and they shared a grimace.

"For how long?"

"I don't know, Justin, we haven't discussed it. She's an emotional mess right now. I'm just letting her vent. She and Mel will put it back together and she'll go back to Pittsburgh and that's that. This is all some kind of dumb misunderstanding."

"This is all you needed, Brian. I'm so sorry."

Brian shrugged. "What can you do?"

"Some people would tell her good luck and help her find a hotel. Not you. Because you're a big softie underneath that big bad wolf costume."

"Shut up, or I'll eat you up, mutton chop," Brian teased.

"Again?" Justin teased back. "Lunch wasn't enough?"

"Never enough," Brian pressed against him, nibbling his neck. Justin moaned and leaned into him, closing his eyes, as Brian said, "What did the shrink say?"

"Oh, that's romantic," Justin said with a giggle and Brian smiled.

"We can't be too romantic with a toddler running wild in the house and his mother zonked out on the couch."

Before Justin could respond, the front door buzzer rang, startling Gus, who began to cry and then ran full speed into Brian's arms. Brian picked him up, comforting him, as Justin went to the squawk box and said, "Yeah?"

Lindsay sat up, groggy, but cognizant enough to fluff her hair and look for her crying son. Justin buzzed up the person whose voice he couldn't hear above Gus's wails. Lindsay walked over and took Gus from Brian, calming him with a mother's soothing murmur and embrace as Justin opened the door to the biggest, strongest-looking bull-dyke he had ever seen.

"You must be Justin, the boyfriend," she said, holding out a hand and shaking his hand firmly. "I'm Mick, the lawyer."

"Uh, yeah, come in," he waved her in and she looked around the loft's main room, then at Lindsay and then Gus, who had finally stopped crying, and finally at Brian, who came from the kitchen, then back at Lindsay, noting her tension.

"Looks like you're having dinner," she said, as she handed Brian an envelope. "I just need a minute."

Brian led her into his bedroom and closed the door. The problem with loft living was that almost all of the space was open. The bedrooms and bathrooms were the exceptions. "What's up?" He was annoyed that she didn't call first. He wasn't ready to handle the inquisition from Lindsay.

"I got real excited after reading your partnership agreement and looking at some New York law on non-compete agreements and dissolution of a professional partnership. We have a case, Brian. They've fucked up more ways than one. I wanted you to read this little position paper I threw together. This is purely on the letter of the law concerning those two areas. I haven't even touched discrimination, yet. Ignore the typos. Scott, my secretary, is back tomorrow and will clean me up. So who's the hot blonde?"

"I told you, he's my partner, Justin," Brian said, glancing at the memo written to him under attorney-client privilege. Mick laughed and sat down on the edge of his bed. Brian imagined his bed recoiling slightly, unaccustomed to visitors like Mick.

"God, you're such a fag. I meant the woman. With the baby."

"Oh," he sat beside her, still perusing the paper. It was concise and well-written. She was at least as smart as he imagined. "Lindsay, old friend and mother of my son. The kid is my boy, Gus."

"I thought they lived in Pittsburgh."

"They do. Major meltdown with lesbo lover. Look, she doesn't know anything about this, doesn't even know I've been fired, so..."

"Hey, man, whatever we talk about is privileged. She's gorgeous."

"Yeah," Brian said absently, looking up when Justin entered. He shut the door behind him.

"What am I supposed to tell Lindsay?"

"Nothing," Brian responded. "I'll tell her I'm having a will drawn up or something."

"Ok, well, the scampi is starting to stick to the pan," he hinted and Brian glanced at Mick.

"I don't suppose you'd want to stay for dinner..."

"Sure!" She accepted immediately, and Brian and Justin exchanged a look, surprised to have a polite question taken as a serious invitation.

"I'll go set another place," Justin said, thinking of ways to further stretch the food they were already stretching to cover Lindsay. He needn't have worried. The wine got a better workout than the food, and Gus was the only one with a strong appetite, eating all of his Spaghettios and half of a second serving. His skill with a spoon was roughly equivalent to Michael's ability with eating utensils, holding it in the same way, but getting a little less into his mouth. The New York Times was spread beneath the small plastic chair and table that Brian had purchased the last time Gus visited.

"No diet aid is better for cutting back than watching a little one eat," Mick said, glancing at the creamy red blend of canned spaghetti and milk from a sippy-cup that Gus had created in his plastic bowl, also a purchase from his last visit. Brian smirked as another spoonful landed on the newsprint.

"You'll notice I sat with my back to him."

"That's mean," Justin said with a laugh. "He's not that much worse than Mikey."

"Point taken," Brian agreed as Lindsay winced.

"You guys are so evil!"

Brian noticed she perked up with another lesbian in the room, even one as butch as Mick. She had smoothed her hair back when they were in the bedroom and even put on some lipstick. It was a phenomenon he didn't understand, but then lesbians were pretty much an enigma to him. A life spent rejecting dick and eating pussy was not on his radar screen.

"I actually love kids," Mick said with a smile. "I have two sons and a daughter."

Brian choked on his wine and Justin leaned over to slap his back until he waved him away. "Excuse me?"

She landed an unflinching gaze on Brian's handsome face. "What? You think no man could get past this formidable barrier of mine?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Brian!" Lindsay chided him, but Mick laughed.

"No, it's okay, people are always shocked to hear I was in a heterosexual marriage for nine years. Had three kids, twin boys and a girl. The fact is, it surprises me, too. I didn't look all that different then. I was thinner, but who wasn't thinner at twenty?" She glanced at Justin, who was twenty now, and Brian, who was as slim as a rake, and sighed. "Except fags, of course. Anyway, I was a Kansas farm girl, accustomed to hard labor. Had a big family, married a boy when we were straight out of high school. I was a clueless virgin, and so was he."

"Fancy wedding?" Justin asked, enthralled by her story and she smiled at him, as Brian rolled his eyes.

"In my little town? We got married in a church, I wore a dress and shoes, so yeah, it was fancy. We had the reception at the Holiday Inn on route seventy. That was big time."

"Did you love him?"

"Justin!" Lindsay cautioned him as Brian got up, clearing the dishes from the table. Both Lindsay and Justin were too caught up in her story to help.

"He's a sweetheart, a good guy. But neither one of us had a clue about love. We worked his farm together. I got pregnant immediately, of course. Had my daughter, then got pregnant again with the twins. By the age of 21, I had three babies," Gus toddled over to her, holding out his filthy hands and smiling under a face smeared with spaghetti sauce, gesturing to be held. "Whoa there, ranger," Mick said, wiping his hands and face with her napkin that she dampened from her water glass. She then lifted him up to her lap, and he leaned against her solid body, recognizing the easy manner of a woman comfortable with small children. She put an arm over his chest and bounced him gently on her knee as she went on. Lindsay beamed at the two of them, and Brian was amazed by this whole dynamic.

"When did you go to law school?" Lindsay asked, and Mick shrugged.

"I took undergrad classes at the community college just to get away from the kids for awhile. I had a faculty advisor there who informed me of three important truths. First, I was gay. Second, I was brilliant. Third, I had to get out of this marriage and out of town."

"Your lover?" Lindsay asked, enraptured, and Mick shrugged.

"More of a mentor, but we fooled around a little. Enough for me to know she was right about that first thing."

Justin giggled. "So what did you do?"

Brian was interested now, picturing this big, raw-boned farm girl faced with an alien dilemma. He stood behind Justin, crossing his arms on his lover's chest as he rested his chin atop his head. Justin closed his hands over Brian's arms. Gus sucked his thumb, fighting off a doze, oblivious to the conversation. Mick continued. "With my mentor's help, I was offered a scholarship to Smith. My husband and I talked about it, and agreed I should go. The kids were in school by now, and his mother was a widow, living with us, so she could help him with them. There I was, this big ol' dyke-in-training with a wardrobe straight out of the Sears catalogue among all these tight-assed blonde girls with turned up noses and silver spoons," she glanced at Lindsay. "Much like you."

"Hey!" Lindsay said with a blush. "I may look the part, but I was a misfit too. Right, Brian?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, Linds. Your folks have money, and all the boys wanted to fuck you. Some of us did fuck you, in fact. No one thought you were a dyke, including you, until junior year."

"Did you get a divorce?" Justin interrupted this detour into the Brian and Lindsay in College show.

"Eventually."

"What happened to the kids?"

"Nothing happened to them. They stayed with their father. He remarried, had three more. They visited me in Boston when I was in law school, and we were always in touch. My daughter's at NYU now, so she's living with me. One of my sons is in the Army, Military Intelligence, travels around the world. The other was killed by gay bashers when he was nineteen."

A sudden pall fell over the table. Justin's smile faded. "W-what?" Lindsay asked and Mick nodded, showing no emotion as she said,

"He was a sophomore at the University of Kansas. Smart boy, creative, wanted to write plays when he grew up. He loved everyone, never met a stranger, was completely stupid about his sexual orientation. He believed there was nothing wrong with it, so why keep it quiet? One night he was being a little too vocal about gay rights while in a local bar. These two good old boys followed him out, beat the shit out of him, threw him in the back of their truck like a sack of feed, drove him to the countryside and used a tire iron to administer the fatal blows. Left him dead in a ditch. He got covered up with snow. It took three days for them to find him."

"Christ," Justin said softly, tightening his grip on Brian's arms, who leaned down to kiss his forehead and remind him that he was fine. Lindsay had teared up again, and she reached over to squeeze Mick's hand gently.

"Up until then, I had been living a rather quiet life as a gay woman trying to make it in law. I didn't lie about it, but I didn't make a big deal out of it either. When I lost my son to a couple of bigots, I declared war on the straight world, at least that portion of it who has declared war on us. I advocate for changes in the laws, I write books and articles, I fund outreach programs, I try cases where gays have met discrimination. None of it will bring my boy back, but I owe him at least that much."

Brian took a sleepy Gus from her arms. "I'll put him to bed," he said quietly, wanting a few minutes alone with his son after listening to that story.

"Make sure he pees first," Lindsay said. A turning point had been reached when Gus successfully potty trained himself, even remaining dry through most nights. She went over and hugged Mick gently before returning to her chair and dabbing at her eyes. "I am so sorry. I don't think I could survive if anything happened to Gus."

"You'd be amazed what you can survive when you have to, Lindsay. I was a terrible mother, I loved the kids, but they were never my focus. I guess I regret that fact more than any other. I wasted a lot of years that I could have spent with him."

"But you have to be true to yourself. Your example was probably inspirational to him, allowing him to live his life the way he wanted," Justin reassured her. "Even though it was a terrible ending, he was himself, not hiding behind a lie."

"You're a sweetheart."

Justin blushed. "No, I just think all kinds of parental role models are okay, so long as they love their children and are there for them. You don't have to live with them to be there for them. Look at Brian."

"Look at Brian what?" He came back in, carrying Gus who was now dressed in snuggly flannel pajamas with feet in them and yellow ducks in the print. "He wants to tell everyone goodnight."

"I was just saying you don't have to live with your kid to care and to be a good role model."

Gus leaned over to kiss first Lindsay, then Justin, and then insisted on giving Mick a kiss too. After that, he locked his arms around Brian's neck, resting his face against his shoulder, exhausted. Justin beamed at them, smiling, watching until they left the room. "I love him with Gus. He's never sexier than when they're like that together."

"For your sake, I hope that's not entirely true, but I know what you mean," Mick teased. They all laughed.

Later, Justin rested the back of his head against Brian's lap as he stretched out on the sofa while Brian sat with his feet propped up on the coffee table. Mick had just left and the three remaining adults polished off the wine and grew progressively quieter. Finally Lindsay said,

"I'm going to have lunch with Mick tomorrow. I want to pick her brain about the situation I'm in with Mel. What are my rights? That kind of thing."

"I don't think she does that kind of law, Linds," Brian cautioned her.

"Why not? She did your will. It's all family law stuff. "

Brian frowned, caught by his lie. He hated lying, he could never keep up with it. "Whatever. If she doesn't, she could probably recommend someone who does."

"I like her."

"I noticed. Not your type, is she?"

"Not really, no, but she's fascinating. And I'm not looking for a girlfriend, Brian. I'm not even rid of the one I have. But I'd like to be Mick's friend."

"Whatever floats your boat."

"I promise not to stay here long, Brian. I know we're in the way."

"Bullshit, stay as long as you want," he said, feeling Justin grimace against his thigh. "I guess I'd better put my other boy to bed. You?"

"Not quite yet. I had that nap. I'll turn off the lights."

Brian nodded and stood up, bringing Justin with him. He paused to kiss Lindsay goodnight, and put an arm around his lover, leading him to their bed. He had no idea how he was going to manage all this, but for now it was rather nice to have his little family unit together.

Go to Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The television show Queer As Folk and its characters are the property of Showtime and CowLip Productions. No money is being made. Stories and discussion are intended purely for the entertainment of fans of Queer as Folk, the Brian and Justin characters, and Randall's writings.
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July 25, 2004